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He hated Coruscant for a reason. So many people, packed so close together, there was always something. He was tired, bloodied, bruised, and more than a little angry, making his way from one rooftop to the other, casting furtive glances over his shoulder as he went. Coming to the edge of one rooftop, he tried his jetpack, and the nozzles sputtered for a second then died.
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Shab."
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Peering over the edge of the roof, he let out a low sound of annoyance, helmeted head scanning the nearby rooftops for protrusions. Extending his arm, an aiming overlay projected itself into his vision, and he fired his grapnel, the line arcing out into space, reaching it's azimuth before gravity took the weighted grapnel head and dragged it down, causing it to wrap itself around a ventilation duct jutting from the side of a structure. Closing his eyes a moment, he rolled his shoulders before stepping off of the rooftop.
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He dropped into thin air, heart in his throat until he STOPPED with a sickening lurch and a groan of distressed metal from the ventilation duct. Swinging, he extended his legs to absorb the impact as he made contact with the side of another building, absorbing momentum to allow himself to swing, slowly, until he was simply hanging by one arm. Scanning around, slowly spinning on the line like a burra fish on a hook. He was about to curse himself for his stupidity before he looked straight down, realizing he was within safe dropping distance of a fire escape.
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The line uncoupled and he dropped, heavily, onto the fire escape, knees compressed to their maximum, armored form causing the entire metal structure to groan. He attempted to stand, before simply listing to one side and slowly sliding down the wall, slumping to a seat. Without bothering to look around, he clawed at his helmet, dragging it off of his head and dropping it beside him. His neck was a mess of blood and dried bacta, his hair matted down to his head and slick with sweat and oil. Producing a cigarra, he simply bit the tip off of it before pressing it between his lips, lighting it with a small tongue of flame from his gauntlet mounted thrower.
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It was only as he took a long drag from the smoke that he bothered to look around, and thus, realize that he was not alone. Grabbing at the helmet, the paused, and then just left it where it lay, realizing that he simply didn't have the energy to care. The stims were wearing off, and the comedown had him. If this is where it ended, this would be the end. So be it. A single dark eye gazed down at the street below, watching ridiculous, colorful shapes wiggle to and fro, before glancing at his companion, finding himself possessed by an uncharacteristic fit of gregariousness.
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"Bad day?"
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The irony of this statement, coming from the soldier, civilian clothes burnt, bloody, and torn beneath his beskar armor, was readily apparent. Possibly intentional, given the Mandalorian's proclivity for wit so dry it made Tatooine look like Felucia. What he was was apparent, the cut and composition of his battered, dull grey armor unmistakable despite it's antiquated design. The helmet itself was odd, more curves than angles, with twinned lines molded into the plate to give the impression of tears, wept from the helmet's eyes. The man himself was dark of hair and complection, his one remaining eye gazing from a deeply shadowed socket, as though the man had gone his whole life and never really slept.
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As he waited on a reply, he gazed down at the street below, cocking his head at the odd flash of fire from beyond his view... and even more so at the strange, sconce-like blaze within the center of a mass of blobs. Extending his remaining grapnel line, he hung it off the edge of the fire escape, slowly spooling it out like a fisherman, until it came to a stop right above the fire itself. Electrochemical returns formed the shape of a person within the mass, but it was with confusion and perhaps a lack of real hope that his gesture might have any use that he let out a high pitched whistle, aiming to get the trapped humanoid to notice the grapnel hanging over their fiery head.
