Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

Register a free account today to become a member! Once signed in, you'll be able to participate on this site by adding your own topics and posts, as well as connect with other members through your own private inbox!

Public Simple Tricks and Nonsense (open to underworld/spacer Force-sensitives)

And where did they get that car?
Unknown but dubious people have hired Jerec Asyr, grudging master of the Force, to hold relatively open training in an abandoned warehouse in the underbelly of Coruscant.

Word of mouth has spread. Decent turnout so far, comfortable and eager. There's a couple of Gray Paladin gunslingers plinking away at impossible targets, a Sarlacc Enforcer showing off its assassin arts, a mangy Wookiee cutting upari crystal with a hammer and chisel, a whole sparring circle of Matukai against Morgukai, a Zeltron showing off a death-dance, a Whiphid fortune-teller, a Keshiri telepath, and a sketchy Disciple of Twilight futzing around in the rafters, probably. Other stuff too, and not a Jedi or Sith in sight.

Jerec, a big Ithorian dressed like the used-ship salesman he is, wanders around the warehouse giving bad advice and stopping fights before they get too interesting. He's got a crude lightsaber at his belt and a lum can in his hand. He probably shared a few words with you when you got here, pointed out who was doing what, and is open to talking more. He doesn't look like much but he broke the arm of some Sorcerer of Tund or Rhand or something. There's more cans of cold lum on a keg droid.
 
Last edited:
Razmir had some time to kill until his connect-shuttle departed. The bender on Zeltros hadn't left his brain fried completely, not to the point he was stuck in a motel room curing a hangover. A stimcaf and a breath mint had him back on his feet, if looking a little rumpled with the creases in his suit. With time on his hands and trapped in the underbelly of the galaxy's largest ecumenopolis, he figured he might as well attend that underground warehouse exhibition the Besalisk had told him about over breakfast.

If he was going to get stabbed and robbed on Coruscant, it might as well be at a street art gallery, a place with a cultural touch and some flair.

The warehouse had turned out to be almost exactly the opposite. Lots of fringe hermits and mystics, seemingly all gathered to see a wizard Ithorian or exchange details about their philosophies or whatever cloaks did all day.

Razmir eventually came to stop by a Vurk emphatically debating a Selonian. Raz barely listened to what the discussion was about. He'd overheard something about whether a doughwrap was a sandwich. What kept him there was the Vurk's presence. Somehow, the older Vurk made even the most mundane words seem captivating, and Raz almost found himself agreeing with his position.

The Vurk even had a little tag with a name written in sharpie. It read: Coleman, Jal Shey.

Raz quirked an eyebrow at the name. He wasn't very cultured, he'd be the first to admit it, but the name Jal seemed a rather peculiar first name for a Vurk. A stage name perhaps? Regardless, this Jal fellow was talking some real sense about doughwraps and legal definitions of sandwiches.

// OPEN
 
Last edited:

zeU8GQy.png



mYykm3M.png
Pet (hair): Fuzzy (Sha'rellian toop)

Jobbi's dad Whottoomuzz Chantin Whottoomuzz Chantin sent a hololetter telling her of a special lesson taking place away from the temple, like an extracurricular one or something.

The 85 year old Hutt didn't know better than to question going to the underbelly of Coruscant, they were barely an adolescent by humanoid standards.

A 660lb force-using adolescent, that also happened to be heir to the Chantin Kadijic.
She slithered into the warehouse and immediately could tell this was the right place. It felt like home, half the people here, particularly the Nikto and Zeltron, looked like her dad's 'Business Friends'.

The Hutt straightened Fuzzy on top of her head and fidgeted in the corner, somehow managing to look out of place in Coruscant's underbelly despite the slug-like form of hers.

 
Regardless, this Jal fellow was talking some real sense about doughwraps and legal definitions of sandwiches.

a Whiphid fortune-teller

"Leave it to a belts and vests specialist to be that pedantic," said Velok to Razmir out of nowhere, somehow somewhat sotto voce. "The Jal Shey's position on doughwraps is uselessly abstract and borderline elitist. But don't tell him that or he'll enchant some socks at you. Hello there; what are the odds, and how did you find the book?"
 
And where did they get that car?
The Hutt straightened Fuzzy on top of her head and fidgeted in the corner, somehow managing to look out of place in Coruscant's underbelly despite the slug-like form of hers.

Jerec's Huttese was of course flawless. It better be: he'd sure bargained for his life, kneecaps, and credit rating often enough.

"Welcome, friend. I'm Jerec Asyr, master of Quekko's Choice Ship Emporium and of the Force, in that order. I'm excited to feel the Force so strong in someone from beautiful Nal Hutta. What would you like to learn? We have a smorgasbord. Can I interest you in recordings of Rasho the Hutt, dark Jedi blademaster, flopping nobly through enemy ranks with impeccable Vaapad and a double-bladed lightsaber?"
 
Razmir turned around, not expecting the face of the Jutrand fortune teller among the attendees.

"Their position is something, alright. The whole 'sandwich taxonomy is arbitary' spiel went over my head, if I'm honest, but if you'd asked me I would have wholeheartedly agreed with him," Raz chuckled, earning a displeased glance from the Vurk, to which he gestured apologetically.

"That book turned out to be more interesting than I'd anticipated," Raz fished around the inside of his jacket, producing a thin datapad with a flickering display. "I dedicated some time to write up notes on it, cross-reference for potential leads and all that. You ever read it? Willing to trade a few thoughts?"

Razmir's notes primarily evaluated the outlined pathways to power by their practicality, including side notes outlining half-chewed plans to pursue the most promising leads. The three he'd designated as most interesting were the Artusian crystals, Talzin's unorthodox methods, and Emperor Varanin's empowerment ritual. The last approach in particular appeared several times throughout the outlines, as a potential starting point for more ambitious pursuits, though it had a similarly long list of potential risks attached in each instance.

Velok Brokentusk Velok Brokentusk
 
"I dedicated some time to write up notes on it, cross-reference for potential leads and all that. You ever read it? Willing to trade a few thoughts?"

"Yes, Grandfather insisted I read all his work. I never took to it much - I was a Sith Marauder, not a scholar - but that one I remember fairly well. The Reborn crystals and Stonepower and so forth."

Their discussion now had the attention, at a little distance, of the Vurk Jal Shey, who was now less interested in sandwiches. Velok's voice tended to carry.

"Excuse me," said the Vurk, "are you referring to Let the Worthy Prevail by Velok of Toola? You actually have a copy?"

"He does," said Velok. It made sense, come to think of it, that a Jal Shey, with their powerful crafting focus, would find the book interesting. So much of it had to do with physical objects and conferred power.

The Jal Shey turned to Razmir with something like respect. "What was your sense of the limits of these Reborn crystals? Could they have more specific applications than just granting sensitivity?"
 
"I got the sense it's something like a tapered booster. If we go by Velok's spear analogy, it can leap someone from the bottom end to the tip, but if you're close to that spear tip you'll be lucky to move the needle at all," Razmir said, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I'm not really sure about the mechanics, but the crystal seems to be a kind of focusing lens that directs power from the outside into one being. I figure, if that's possible, then the inverse process could also occur. Take someone strong, hook them up to an Atrusian crystal, and make their power disperse into the surrounding area."

Raz shrugged. He was dredging up dangerous half-knowledge from what felt like a lifetime ago. It seemed plausible to him but he'd barely learned the ABCs of the Force back then.

"I'm no robe scholar, though. So take it with a grain of Arconan salt."

Velok Brokentusk Velok Brokentusk
 
"I'm no robe scholar, though. So take it with a grain of Arconan salt."
Jal Shey were definitely robe scholars whether Coleman was currently robed or not (he wasn't), but Coleman seemed too enraptured by the reverse Artusian crystal idea to get offended. He and Velok agreed that the paradigm made enough sense to be worth testing. Someone's uncle's wife turned out to have an Artusian crystal necklace and someone went off to try negotiating that.

In the meantime, Coleman and Velok bickered briefly about whether the crystal approach really could take someone from spearbutt to blade point, or whether there were natural biological limits, and how midichlorian counts complicated the book's thesis. It was on the verge of getting downright dry when someone produced a nice piece of pontite and Jerec, the Ithorian, started radiating power out of it for general snacking.

"Turns out that was a very good idea of yours," said Velok to Razmir Tezhyn Razmir Tezhyn , holding out his massive three-clawed hands toward Jerec and the glowing crystal like they were a space heater. "I'd forgotten what it's like to be around Force practitioners with resources. I'm out in Firefist mostly, where the Nagai telepaths don't have anything like this."
 

zeU8GQy.png



mYykm3M.png
Pet (hair): Fuzzy (Sha'rellian toop)

"Welcome, friend. I'm Jerec Asyr, master of Quekko's Choice Ship Emporium and of the Force, in that order. I'm excited to feel the Force so strong in someone from beautiful Nal Hutta. What would you like to learn? We have a smorgasbord. Can I interest you in recordings of Rasho the Hutt, dark Jedi blademaster, flopping nobly through enemy ranks with impeccable Vaapad and a double-bladed lightsaber?"

Jobbi blinked her widebeyes, her flabby cheeks darkened in a bashful flush.

"O-Oh! Um..." she rumbled, her voice quivering with excitement and unsurety, partially relieved that she didn't have to try to speak Basic. "I... I never heard of Rasho the Hutt before. But if he was strong... and noble... I'd love to learn like he did!"

She shifted her enormous bulk awkwardly, her tail giving a guilty thump against the floor. From the top of her head, Fuzzy peeked out with a soft squeak, sensing her nerves. Jobbi gave her tiny companion an encouraging pat with a pudgy finger, as if brushing a stray hair back into place.

"Master, uh... sir," she said, trying very hard to sound brave and official in front of the Ithorian "I-I wanna learn! Anything you think...um...won't break things right away."

She attempted an earnest bow — no small feat given her size — and nearly toppled a nearby stack of scrap metal, catching it at the last second with a panicked burst of Force energy that only made everything rattle harder.

Jobbi straightened up awkwardly.

"Maybe... If you have recordings of Rasho that are uh... slower first?"

She wasn't exactly confident with her speed.

 
Last edited:
Razmir flashed a quick grin. Apparently, he'd made sense. To someone. The discussion that followed his little theory about an inverse-Atrusian-focal-lens went a little too far off the deep end for him to follow, though he did try.

When the discussion died down and the Ithorian produced the crystal, Raz settled in besides the fortune teller, a little lost as to whether he should be holding out his hands as well. It didn't seem harmful, so he figured it wouldn't hurt to join in.

"They seem a crafty lot, the force-practicioners here. A lot more charming than your average Sith or Jedi," Raz said, giving the small gathering a few glances. Apparently a Hutt had made it down here, causing something of a ruckus with a heap of scrap.

"What's it like out there in Firefist anyway?" Raz asked Velok Brokentusk Velok Brokentusk . "Don't meet many Nagai out here these days. Last one I ran into tried to vaporize me over a game of sabacc. Didn't really give me the chance to make small talk."
 
And where did they get that car?
But if he was strong... and noble... I'd love to learn like he did!"

"The most noble," he lied through his figurative teeth. He'd met some of Rasho's numerous neglected offspring.

"Maybe... If you have recordings of Rasho that are uh... slower first?"

"Some of the tapes are faster than others, so I'm sure you'll find a lot of value in them."

The recordings were procured. In due course (he was also busy helping with someone's crystal stunt) Jerec tossed one up on a holoprojector and treated himself and Jobbi Chantin Jobbi Chantin to footage of a Hutt with a lightsaber and a hooded cloak slaloming vigorously through Republic speeder cavalry.

"Look how he used his momentum. Such impressive bulk."
 
"They seem a crafty lot, the force-practicioners here. A lot more charming than your average Sith or Jedi,"

"Believe it or not, none of the traditions represented in this room think of themselves as the one true way. Unlike the Jedi and the Sith, they understand they're part of an ecosystem of agency and diversity and expression. That lends itself to being interesting."

"What's it like out there in Firefist anyway?"
"Don't meet many Nagai out here these days. Last one I ran into tried to vaporize me over a game of sabacc. Didn't really give me the chance to make small talk."
"Firefist is its own universe. Billions of stars, hundreds of thousands of nice worlds. The Nagai are big on face and respect but they're people like any others. Most of my homestead's neighbors are Nagai — I live on Jaibrek, one of their frontier worlds. Beautiful place, very far from our galaxy's perpetual nonsense. Good spot for perspective."
 
"Sounds like a lovely place..." Raz trailed off, thoughtfully watching the crystal radiate in the Ithorian's hands. "If I wasn't so caught up in, well..."

How did you explain a complex web of interweaving smuggling operations, multiple heists in planning, and an upcoming assassination without sounding, well, criminal? The fortune-teller had said he'd been a Sith once upon a time, on some level Raz imagined he'd be understanding enough not to be appalled, but you never knew who could overhear these kinds of things, and..

Raz thought it best to keep it simple with the small talk while they waited.

"I have a lot of business matters that require my direct involvement. The galaxies had to align for me to have enough time to manage to visit this convention. Though, if I did find the time, would you mind if I dropped by for a visit? If that's not too forward, I mean. I could use a break from that perpetual nonsense."

Velok Brokentusk Velok Brokentusk
 
Last edited:

Users who are viewing this thread

Top Bottom