Seasonal Someone's Halls Are Gettin Decked (underworld/spacer holiday hangout, everyone welcome)

[Dagge Krudar]

T A G S | Lady Venge
O B J E C T I V E | Drink Until You Drop
T H E M E | Kayfoundo Naweea (Hungry Eyes)​

---

The Order came swift from the bartender as the potent drink was poured into a giant glass fit for a herglic or a whiphid and gently handed over to the Hutt Ruling Councilor for enjoyment. While the other patrons of the establishment began to converse amongst each other there was a singular individual that caught the attention of Grangga, none other than a member of the Sith Order. The Sith had risen from the ashes once more to carve out a powerful empire, surviving the great collapse which brought about the end of several factions such as the New Imperial Order and the Ashlan Crusade.

He had had dealings with Darth Carnifex on Quesh, but this was an opportunity to expand his contacts towards other sith. So guiding himself nearer to the Sith Lord, while hooking bejeweled chubby fingers around the glass handle as grease and sweat dripped from the white mustache growing out of his bulbous head. His entourage was nearby after all, so there was no worry about being killed certainly not in front of these scum.

<<Chuca..Sith Lorda. It is not often that the Sith Order mingle with the Criminal Underworld, certainly not within the territory of the Galactic Alliance.>> Grangga explained sorta off-hand to make conversation; although asking a valid question as the Strategic Intelligence Agency was always nearby when it came to Alliance Space. The Sith had not ruled the galaxy for quite some time, not since they lost Coruscant.

 

[Jerec Asyr]

At the moment, she still wanted Jerec Asyr to pour her a drink

One did not keep a Sith Lord waiting for her drink, but apparently that particular travesty had transpired. Jerec apologized profusely and dished out a generous Starshine Surprise.

Furthermore, unordered appetizers began to materialize: everything on the limited menu and then some. Wharfrat wings, proatmeal balls, spicy dustnuts, fried bedjies. And other treats — samples of Denon's finest spice.

Lest Grangga the Hutt feel slighted, all the same things went to him too. Damn the profit margins, full speed ahead.

 

[Lady Venge]

Venge took the drink offered up from Jerec Asyr , placing a few credit chips on the bar, and silently shaking her head to indicate that she wasn't interested in all the appetizers being placed before her and Darth Amarok. Before she could take the first sip of her drink, she heard a deep rumbling voice off to her right, beyond Lord Amarok.

<<Chuca..Sith Lorda. It is not often that the Sith Order mingle with the Criminal Underworld, certainly not within the territory of the Galactic Alliance.>>

As the Hutt came into view, Venge silently appraised its appearance. Opulent was the very first word that came to mind as she took note of the richly tailored Coruscanti clothing the Hutt wore.

"Lady Venge and Darth Amarok," Venge said, introducing herself and her companion. "And who might you be?"

TAGS- Grangga the Hutt

 

[Judd]

"I use ingredients from here and there, things of significance. One of the ingredients is condescension. The whole affair works so much better when all these little people can see me as ridiculous. Because otherwise they'd see me like they see you."

The Whiphid earned a quizzical glare for that one. If he fed off of condescension... then he might just choke on Judd's. The street witch woke up that morning, and had decided to dust off the ol' cauldron. It was ridiculous.

"I'd rather them see me like me, than see me like you," he said, though his heart wasn't in the words. Despite his sass, he understood where his fellow monster was coming from. The constant fearful looks. Forced to be something bad, because you looked like you could crush a man on your forehead like a tin can.

Judd growled, seemingly debating the offer, before reaching up, and using one clawed hand to scrape off a sliver of tusk. With a casual flick of his hand, he sent the ivory Velok's way. "Right, dumpster wizard."

"What does your ice say about my future?"

- Velok Brokentusk -

 

[Velok Brokentusk]

​

Judd growled, seemingly debating the offer, before reaching up, and using one clawed hand to scrape off a sliver of tusk. With a casual flick of his hand, he sent the ivory Velok's way. "Right, dumpster wizard."

"What does your ice say about my future?"

Velok picked up the sliver deftly between the three huge claws of his hand. He deposited it in the cauldron with mumbled ceremony. The brew dissolved it on contact. He stirred it once with a lightsaber-scarred ladle and sipped daintily.

And jerked like he'd been tasered. Words and cauldron brew slopped past his metal-capped tusks.

"I see a blue face, half humanoid and half tentacled. I see two starving nuna birds eat each other. I see the gates of Grontessiant open. I see a-" He wiped his stinging eyes. "I see a mountain slide into a city, and the landslide bears the mark of the Maw. I see a sleen dragged screaming from its cave and given a silver crown. I see two red lanterns over Black Spire."

His eyes found focus again. He had no idea what most of those scraps of vision might mean, and that unnerved him down to his toes.

"You will find health, wealth, and every other kind of prosperity," he lied. "The omens are excellent."

 

[Jerec Asyr]

"Lady Venge and Darth Amarok," Venge said, introducing herself and her companion. "And who might you be?"

Jerec interjected smoothly, lest Grangga take offense at not being recognized on sight. "May I introduce His Gloriousness Grangga the Hutt, of the Huttese Ruling Council, who the Mandalorians call the Great Enslaver."

They did not call him that; by all accounts they called him something else. But Jerec was not about to use such words to describe a being whose enforcers were currently drinking half the bar. A being who could flatten Jerec to a fine paste given the appropriate mood.

 

[Levi]

Jerec Asyr - Kingsley - Bushi Nadora​

"Captain Kingsley of the legendary Erevana can be utterly relied upon to do exactly what's in Captain Kingsley's interests. He Will Steal The Thing..."

"He stole part of the thing," Levi corrected, but was willing to drop it until Kingsley fired back. "Mind tricked? You can't be serious!" He pointed at the bird, "You put the whole palace on alert, vomited on everything, then tried to leave the rest of us in the dust while you made your escape!" That which he hadn't seen for himself, had all been relayed to Levi by his crewmate Judd, who had very much seen it all. By now though, Levi had realized the futility of arguing with Kingsley's delusions.

"Far be it from me to tell a young prospect what to do with their career," Levi waved a hand, looking back at Bushi, "But consider yourself informed on that would-be employer."

"...A bird of the same feather..."

"I resent that remark," He stated plainly, at the same time raising a finger in request for a drink from the Ithorian. Whatever was on tap.

 

[Dagge Krudar]

T A G S | Lady Venge Jerec Asyr
O B J E C T I V E | Drink Until You Drop
T H E M E | Kayfoundo Naweea (Hungry Eyes)​

---

Bejeweled fingers paused for a moment as the various appetizers appeared from behind the bar, although unordered by him or the Sith Lordas. Each one of them did look like scrumptious and it would be unpolite to decline this generous tribute from the bartender, so one piece after another from each plate was picked up and dropped down into the never-ending maw, taking a drink to wash it down after each single bite. A long tongue descended from said maw, licking the crumbles away as drool cascaded down. The Hutt Ruling Councilor waited for a brief moment as the sith pair introduced themselves as Lady Venge and Darth Amarok, names that were unfamiliar in the memory banks of the Hutt. It was clear that they were lower rung of Sith compared to the Mighty Darth Carnifex.

He was about to voice his displeasure at the pair for not recognizing whom he was, it seemed the Bartender was keen to interject before the situation got worse within the bar, no use in bringing unwanted conflict to the establishment. Grangga was impressed by the introduction as was natural given his high status within Hutt Society and his power and influence across the Criminal Underworld. Moving the glass back up to his lips to finish the rest of the beverage before the conversation could carry on, throwing a few credits from within his mustache pouch onto the counter.

<<Ho Ho Ho...you do me a great service..Jerec Asyr.>> The Hutt Lorda laughed in sorta a bellow, having heard of the Ithorian.

<<Though that doesn't answer my inquiry...Lady Venge..What brings a pair of sith so close into Alliance Territory.>> The question was posed once again in hopes of an answer, if the answer was not to his liking then he could always send the information to the Strategic Intelligence Agency or the New Jedi Order. Information was the key to the galaxy, and those who controlled it..controlled said galaxy completely.

 

[Judd]

"I see a blue face, half humanoid and half tentacled. I see two starving nuna birds eat each other. I see the gates of Grontessiant open. I see a-" He wiped his stinging eyes. "I see a mountain slide into a city, and the landslide bears the mark of the Maw. I see a sleen dragged screaming from its cave and given a silver crown. I see two red lanterns over Black Spire."

Judd kept up his tough-guy act as the Whiphid began his prophesy, but as it got more strange, more specific, more recognizable, the Dowutin's face fell more and more into shocked neutrality, not meaning to hold his breath. The tentacled blue face, the Maw, Black Spire... it was too specific to be nothing. The large alien's final lie came just a bit too late.

"The hell?" Judd said it calmly at first, then repeated it more forcefully. "The hell do you mean, prosperity? None of that sounded prosperous to me." Judd took a step back, using his irritation to mask... genuine fear.

"Fethin' useless... waste of time..." Judd pounded away, immediately trying to banish the words from his mind, explain them away as a drug-addled trash-man's ramblings. But they stuck.

Oh, how they stuck.

- Velok Brokentusk -

 

[Lady Venge]

Venge had forgotten that the Hutts prided themselves on being instantly recognizable by name and reputation wherever they went. However, what could honestly be expected of two Sith Lords who had never engaged in any dealings with the Hutts? Thankfully, Jerec Asyr interjected, keeping the situation from becoming any more awkward than it had to be.

"A thousand pardons, oh Gracious Grangga," Venge said. "Indeed, Lord Amarok and myself have never had any dealings with the Hutt Ruling Council. In answer to your question, we're on Denon to enjoy ourselves for the evening, and perhaps broaden our base of allies."

TAGS- Grangga the Hutt

 

[Dagge Krudar]

T A G S | Lady Venge Jerec Asyr
O B J E C T I V E | Drink Until You Drop
T H E M E | Kayfoundo Naweea (Hungry Eyes)​

---

There was a single glance shared between them as Lady Venge explained that she nor Lord Amarok had ever had dealings with the Hutt Ruling Council. It was natural because both of them were mere plebians in terms of importance, not fit to look at rocks in a field, they would never interact with the Mighty Hutt Clans which ruled over a small portion of the galaxy for centuries. Though the answer to the inquiry was also given as they were both here to enjoy themselves amongst the company of the Criminal Underworld on Denon and attempt to gather important allies during the evening. It was a lackluster reason for being amongst them tonight but it was not important enough to report to the Strategic Intelligence Agency at this stage, maybe blackmail for later down the line when things got difficult to manage.

<<A bold reason but a smart one given the climate of the galaxy>> The Hutt Lorda explained moving his jeweled hand around to make a point, the galaxy was at a constant stage of warfare and allies were few and far between certainly within the criminal elements that thrived. Another drink was given from the bartender, this time a surprise concoction that delighted the Kajidii of the Jiramma Clan.

<<Tell me is there anyone of importance amongst the crowd that could be a useful ally>> another question but this time less personal and more opinion based.

 

[Lady Venge]

<<Tell me is there anyone of importance amongst the crowd that could be a useful ally>>

"Certainly nobody as important as a Hutt of your stature and reputation, O Mighty Grangga," Venge answered before taking a sip of her drink. StarShine Surprise was potent stuff, there was no denying it. Though she'd imbibed far worse in some of the seedier outposts across the galaxy, this stuff could put her under the table in a hurry if she wasn't careful.

TAGS- Grangga the Hutt

 

[Ijaat Mereel]

Mia was mid swig of her drink when Ijaat stepped from the shadows, she smirked into the glass of whiskey before draining it, setting it aside on one of the tall tables dotted around the makeshift ring. She gave him a slow deliberate once over. She'd been wanting to punch him since Pomojema, now was a good a time as any.

"Mar'e, ori'vod." She moved back to the ring, beckoning him. When Ijaat was clad in armour, Mia bore none, she had refused it. Dar'manda did not wear beskar'gam. But she was not in the least bit worried that it gave Ijaat any edge over her. If anything, it simply made it more fun. "Let's see what you've learned while I've been sleeping."

She set her stance and waited for him to advance. Around them bets began to flow.

Ijaat Mereel

Reaching up, Ijaat tapped the diamond of his chest plate in a strange pattern. There was a hiss, and planting fell off him in a clatter. He would not dishonor himself in such a way as to fight Mia armed and armored. Rolling the flightsuit down to his waist, he tied the arms off, leaving his torso bare and stepped into the ring himself, stalking forward lightly. His stance might be peculiar to some, but to those who appreciated the Pictii form of shock-boxing would recognize it, and a smile scrawled across his lips as a hook lanced out from his left hand, a simple probing strike as he continued circling on light feet, never crossing his legs, and the crooked grin never quite touching his eyes.

He might care deeply for Mia after this go around, and those thoughts had his belly turn that he could think of her as a friend after her using him, as he considered them. But it didn't erase the fact that he dearly wanted to make her bleed her own blood for her part in what they had wrought on Manda'lore.

"Won't be as easy this time, cyar'ika... You don't have your puppet-king to blame. No Ra here to end your pain or damn you with the machinations of his masters... No Sith, nor their puppet. Just you and me..."

Another punch laced on the heels of the left-hook as he circled her and finished his accusation, a straight jab from the right. This one a little more oomph behind it, a flicker of something in the smith's eyes as it sought her nose.

Mia Monroe

 

[Mia Monroe]

Mia moved with him, matching his foot work, his left strike glancing off her guard. It was a probing jab nothing more. Mia merely smirked circling with him, finding the rhythm he moved with and matching it.

"Won't be as easy this time, cyar'ika... You don't have your puppet-king to blame. No Ra here to end your pain or damn you with the machinations of his masters... No Sith, nor their puppet. Just you and me..."

Mia's smirk dropped, as did her guard. "What?"

CRACK.

Mia's head snapped back as his punch found purchase, blood exploded from her nose. A rippling gran rose up from the bystanders. She shook the rattlers from her mind, and stepped back in, guard back up, face set. "The feth are you talking about?"

She retaliated, left strike for his side, hoping to pull his guard down for the right strike at his jaw.

Ijaat Mereel

 

[Ijaat Mereel]

"Oh... "

The word was surprised, and the grin turned sadistic with a tinge of sadness as he took the hit on the left side with a solid grunt as he stepped into her guard and delivered an uppercut aimed at her gut as he laughed mirthlessly. He would be brutally opened to any retaliation from his in-step, but if the hit connected Mia would find out what it felt like to have a blacksmith truly commit to punching you without reserve.

"Our Manda'lor was a catspaw ran by the Sith. All the death and devastation did was speed their plans along. We were nothing but their tools, in the end."

Mia Monroe

 

[Mia Monroe]

Ijaat's punch connected, threatening to force the contents of her stomach out.

But the pain was nothing in comparison to the realisation of his words. Time slowed, as a dozen memories tore through her mind, hundreds of puzzle pieces coming together. Her blood boiled and something in the back of her mind snapped. Rage overcame her, this wasn't a game or a test of skills, this was life or death.

And she'd kill Ijaat for waiting this long to tell her the truth.

The force flowed into her. Ijaat may have been a blacksmith, but she was a Mand'alor.

Her retaliation was brutal, the punch shew threw at his jaw had the weight of the force and her anger behind it, her face had torn into a snarl.

"Shabuir!" she spat, snapping the fist back to strike a second time. "Why are you only telling me now?"

Ijaat Mereel

 

[Ijaat Mereel]

Her punch connected, and he let it spin him around almost like a ballerina. He'd ride the shock wave of it, jaw obviously broken, and as he spun to face her again in the orbit of that punch, he launched a strike at her in retaliation. Oddly enough directly for her fist, the Force crackling through his mind and body, reading the shatterpoints of the appendage as he aimed to connect the blow and shatter her hand as the other lanced out at the opposite shoulder. There wasn't a thought of defense, but his eyes were oddly dead, cold, and whatever he felt that caused him to pull her from the depths of the Nether was gone to memory that overtook him.

"Even if I knew you didn't know, would you deserve to know it even now after what you did to me?"

The words were spat out, accusation cold and cruel in them as any iron knife he'd ever shaped on his anvil. Manda'lor was a title, not a power. Something he intended to show Monroe before he could really move beyond this moment. She might have been one, but she should remember what he did to the Mask if she thought it would place her above him.

Mia Monroe

 

[Mia Monroe]

Foresight should have made her pull back the punch, but she was blind to foresight, blind to reason. The noise as their fists connected was sickening. Mia let out a cry of pain. It cut through the burning rage like an icy knife. She was off balance, in more ways than one and the fist connecting with her shoulder spun her out.

She used the momentum to retreat, to put distance between them. Applications of crucitorn settled the screaming pain in her hand to a distant throb. "Oh, its always going to come back to that isn't it?" she spat at him, keeping distance if he followed

"Manda forbid that you take any responsibility for it yourself. You pulled the fething trigger, Ijaat. You. Not me. Did I manipulate you into it? Yes. Have a apologised for it? Wouldn't matter if I had, because the fact of the matter is that you cannot accept that ultimately, it boiled down to you and your inability to see through what was happening."

She stopped retreating. "If you brought me back just to kill me for it, then do it."

Ijaat Mereel

 

[Ijaat Mereel]

"I brought you back to apologize.."

He watched her, but neither advanced nor retreated, standing ready as he spoke evenly, if slurred and painfully from his cracked jaw.

"I damned your name. I celebrated your death even. Then I came back, met someone who taught me who I was. Runi Kuryida . She loved me, in her own way. But I could not, as I discovered when I died last, love her back. Much as she may deserve that return. I had to put something to rest before I could be truly capable of that depth again. And I have, and I forgive you, and take my part in what we did with equal share. What better way to air our grievances than this... Tell me... Now do you know why you stand here?"

He waited, face unreadable, jaw burning and eyes narrow.

Mia Monroe

 

[Mia Monroe]

Mia was breathing heavily, she stepped in close, she looked like she might punch him again. She really considered it.

"You have to actually say 'I'm sorry' for it to be real, Ijaat." he words were quiet, but hard. "N'eparavu takisit. Ni ceta. Pick one, and when you're ready to actually say it to me, come find me."

She turned on her heel and left the ring, slinking back through the bar. Her chest was burning with emotion. Emotion that wasn't safe to unleash around this many people. She'd make her way back to the ship Ashin lent her.

[Exit Thread]

Ijaat Mereel