Well, That Happened..

[Xaefo Mardekin]

Somewhere within Coruscant, Xaefo ran amok freely, jumping around from object to object. It wasn't often that the boy got a hearty meal, but when he did he made sure to get good use out of it, typically with parkour. The art had seemed to died throughout the human race, but it was something that he enjoyed doing nonetheless, both as a form of exercise and as a way to simply express himself. The boy's heart was racing, yet he continued to run, as he had been for the past fifteen minutes. It was as if his stamina was never ending, and his speed was on par with it.

"Wahoo!" he screamed, leaping from the rooftops to other buildings. What he was doing was rather dangerous, but he had a thing for adventure, and he couldn't have a care in the world when he was running. At least he thought that, until a clever slide down a ramped building landed him next to a group of men who didn't seem to happy to see him. "What are you doing here, punk?!" one of the men asked him, but the boy just raised his hands, motioning for the men to back away.

There were only three of them that he could see, so he was rather confident of his chances against them, but he knew he wouldn't leave without a scratch. It was best to try and avoid the fight at all. "Woah, woah," he grumbled, "I don't want any trouble.. Just.. Dropping in." He snickered a bit at his comment, but the thugs didn't seem to appreciate his humor as much as he did. A man he hadn't seen lunged out from behind him, grabbing the boy in a tight headlock. He tried to struggle, but he just wasn't physically strong enough.

"Crin-" The boy's swear would be cut off by a powerful blow to the stomach, causing him to fall limp for a moment, gasping for air. He didn't even know these men, and they were already beating the life out of him, but what for? It wasn't until he was nearly on the ground until he realized what they were assaulting him for. As he noted his surroundings between his near-blackouts, he could see small jars of spice which had fallen out of a bag, presumably that one of the men had been carrying. Did they think he was trying to stop their spice trade?

Whatever their reasoning, they continued to pummel the boy, even after they had dropped him to the ground where he would lie in his own vile. Bruises were apparent already on his skin, yet they continued their attack, laughing as though it was something normal around the area. Would anyone be brave enough to help the boy?

[member="Maleus"]

 

[Maleus]

In Maleus's past life going to the heart of the republic was the last thing on his mind. Now he walked through bustling the streets of Coruscant. He'd look into the artificial techno-scape above. He admired such ingenuity, it reminded him of his own times of improvisation on Taris. "Hmm.." He amble through the streets, his gray tunic fluttering evenly in the wind. He fancied slipping into dark corridors mainly because there was so much mystery behind every shadow. Nothing would change, he did just that. But something caught his notice. Voices. There seemed to be a scuffle.

In the crowding nexus of bodies he could see a lump in the midst of a gruesome beating. He'd step forth, his vestigial horns hid from view thanks in part to the cowl which hugged his face. 'Thugs... 'His right arm rose chest-level his extremities opening to allow his exposed palm to grasp their attention, which it did not so he'd be forced to speak. "Stop... Now..."
[member="Xaefo Mardekin"]