A Jedi walked into a bar...

[GABA]

"Notting insecure, justing too curious to hows they ising doing it." she replied, "Nevering sought harms ins asking. Also I doing notting like prying eyes and ears. Just whos I ams." The knight explained herself, "I willing having the eyes and ears ons others and thems notting on me."

 

[Saint]

For whatever reason, it was certainly taking the two Jedi a long time to walk their happy butts out of the club. Deacon had glanced over at them briefly before returning his attention back to the races. His rider was in the lead!! See? He didn't need no stinking Jedi to predict the races for him. So long as they didn't crash and kill his choice, he could pick them just fine. Scratching at his bearded jawline, he watched as the racers turned onto the straightaway. Only two more laps to go.

Taking another drink of his Galaxy Rush, Deke turned his attention back over towards the Jedi Padawan and the ol' veteran mercenary, or at least, that's what he appeared to be. Then again, appearances could be deceiving. Perhaps he'd go over and introduce himself; strike up some conversation; see where it led. He gave a crooked, mischievous grin as he once again glanced over towards the entryway, those two Krath-damn Jedi still loitering and not leaving. What was taking them so long?

He finished off his drink as the Violent Vornski rounded the last corner a bit roughly, sliding up against another of the racers. The two scuffled and punched, Deacon's rider having the advantage as the tip of his speeder just barely inched out his opponent's in overall length. They were less than a hundred yards away from the finish line when a third speeder managed to pull up alongside them, grin and wink, then pull ahead for the win. Bantha Crap!! Well, at least taking second still made him a little bit of money. Oh well...

 

[Malz]

Her motives were as confusing as her accent. Or at least to Malz they were. He was a curious man to be sure, as most science-minded individuals were, but he'd never invade someone's privacy like that. Get infected by a virus for the sake of having a willing test subject for vaccine-making, sure. But using others for information gathering just for the sake of doing it? Hm.

He positioned her near the door and told her he'd be right back. He maneuvered through the crowd until he reached Deacon, which was ironically easy to do since all he had to do was go to the one Force-silent spot in the whole bar. Upon reaching the man he bowed, "I apologize if my Jedi companion has done anything to offend you. Please understand we're not all...how did she put it...mind rapers?" He sighed for what must have been the thousandth time this evening and waited for his response. If none, he'd just go back to escorting Rehni out.

 

[Saint]

Drawing the vibro-knife quickly from its sheath on his left calf, Deacon twirled the blade about deftly so that it was pointing up, -just- before he shoved the tip through Malz's Adam's apple, standing up with the striking blow and adding more force to it with a dual-handed grip on the handle, he ensured that the blade buried itself up DEEP in his brain. It wasn't the most slow or painful way to die, but it was -A- way.

The Jedi's eyes began to blink in rapid succession, his nerve endings losing control as he mouth dropped open, agape in shock and disbelief as his neck began to twitch, causing his head to make sharp, repeated turns to the left. A wicked gurgling sound good be heard as the Jedi Healer tried to breathe, but the blood from his deep, grievous wound was beginning to just -pour- down his windpipe, nearly to the point of suffocation.

Leaning over into his face, Deacon's gaze was a harsh, cold one. His cybernetic eye was not helping at all as it glowed a bright, malicious red. His words a malevolent whispering tone, he went on to say, "Apology accepted Jedi... in blood you fecking mind-rapist." With that, he kneed the dying Jedi squarely in the gonads, forcibly bending him over. With a look of disgust, Deke unceremoniously shoved the nearly dead fool aside.

By now, the other female Jedi had finally begun to respond, herself nearly in a drunken stupor. With that stupid lisp of hers, it was clear to Deacon that she could NOT hold her liquor. Too bad. Drawing his other blade from the sheath on his opposite calf, he had had as much of her as he could stand already, and really didn't want to draw too much closer. With an accurate and mighty throw, Deke sent his vibroblade slicing through the air, straight on a collision course with Rehni's face.

Taking a moment to process it all, the drunken female Jedi stood NO chance as she ignited her lightsaber only a moment too late. The tip of Deacon's vibroblade had already penetrated six inches deep into her face, -right- between her eyes. She blinked too a couple of times, realization setting in before whispering some soft, prudent curse before falling straight back, flat onto the hard, unforgiving flooring of the Outlander's Club. Within moments, both her and Malz were lifeless corpses; their spirits (or whatever the frak the Jedi called them) becoming one with the Force. So long Suckers!!

Pulling out his scatter gun from behind his back, the Black Sun Crime Shadow stalked over towards the Jedi Padawan, cocking the weapon with one hand before leveling it at his head as he stated, "Run you cur. Run!" Fortunately, this Padawan was a smart Padawan. Deacon didn't have to tell him twice. With a yellow stripe down his back as wide as the San Francisco Bridge, the youngling took off like a bat out of hell, a wild-eyed look of shock and horror upon his face as he ran. For good measure, Deke let one blast fly from his weapon. If it hit the young Jedi, it wouldn't hurt him too bad, but would certainly leave a mark. A mark to remember.

With a rumbling, wicked laughter, Deacon shoved his gun away back into place behind his back as he walked over towards the female Jedi. After withdrawing his blade from her face, he spit at her as he made some foul remark that only a few could hear; then cratered her face with a heavy stomp from the heel of his boot. As if suddenly deciding that wasn't good enough, he repositioned himself at her head and did it one more time, sending blood and cartilage flying. He nearly slipped on the pool of blood that she'd already let spill all over the floor.

Bending over, he wiped her blood off of his blade with her attire, stripping her of what attire was providing her with a measure of modesty on her upper torso, revealing her nakedness to all gathered before moving over towards Malz. With him, he withdrew the blade from under his chin, shaking his head as he commented, "Should've jus' kept on walkin'.... Jedi." Then he wiped his blade off on his attire as well, though leaving him fully clothed.

Retaking his seat at the bar, Deacon tossed up a hefty purse (the one he'd won from the bet he'd made with Rehni's direction) up onto the bar and barked, "Next round's on me!!" The place went up in an uproar, clapping, cheering, and chanting praise as well as swears and curses against the Jedi. Women of all races (shapely ones at that) flocked to his sides, purring as they rubbed their luscious bodies up against their dark Hero. Deke just grinned as he soaked it all in, grabbing up his glass of Galaxy Rush and downing it in one go. What A Night!!

Snapping out of it, Deacon shook his head lightly at the Jedi who had approached him, a male, not nearly as good-locking as Rehni, but then again, Deke didn't bark up that kind of tree. Clearing his throat a bit, he replied as he waved a dismissive hand, "I could -really- care less Master Jedi. I'm a'ready in a foul mood. I'd appreciate it more if you both just walked yer ass-ends outta here." He gave Malz a sidelong glance that wasn't threatening, but rather, just one showing that he wasn't exactly kidding.

Deacon was a little on the drunk side too, heh.

 

[GABA]

OOC: What violent thoughts...

Malz moved her next to the door, she frowned, she wasn't that drunk enough that she would fall over if not leaning upon something. She could tell he didn't like her answer, or how she functioned nonetheless, but before the Knight could get another word out to Malz he had walked away. Approaching Deacon? Why?

She sighed and decided she would wait for him to return.

 

[Malz]

The young Knight twitched at the rudeness, but left it alone nonetheless. He would normally try to push positive feelings on the person, but Deacon's Force-nullification-or-whatever-thingy-presence [That's what Malz is calling it] would probably negate it. Ah well, best to leave it alone. He simply nodded and backed away.

Eventually he got back to Rehni and muttered, "Nice fellow. Now I remember why I don't go into bars." He offered his support again and continued leading her out. Finally they made it outside. He looked at his fellow Knight for a moment before nodding, "Sooo you need a lift somewhere? I don't know exactly how far away the nearest temple is, but you're welcome to come onto my transport with me."

 

[Saint]

OOC: He may be a little... dark. ;)

Deacon -finally- got to watch as the two of the Jedi -finally- departed the Outlander's Club. Krath damn, it'd taken them long enough!! He turned his attention back towards a view screen showing the next round of races. For whatever reason, he'd lost his interest in betting on them. Checking again, he made sure that the pacifist Jedi and his drunken counterpart had actually left the tavern. He'd actually had to help hold her up to get her to leave.

Nice... Nothing like a drunken Jedi to start the night off right. We wondered what they did for fun when they got drunk... then decided it wasn't important or interesting enough to really consider. Probably each other. No doubt, that male Jedi that had only recently departed was probably seeking, or at least hoping, to score with his drunken counterpart. With her level of intoxication, it shouldn't be -too- hard for him, but then again, he was a Jedi...

Swirling his drink about, Deke decided to sit around a bit longer before making any further moves. No need to strike up a conversation now, just to have those two Krath-damn Jedi wander in and interrupt it. Quirking a humored look, he chuckled to himself as he reflected on how that whole thing -could've- panned out if he hadn't had his amulet on. Heh, yeah... if they could've picked up on -any- of his thoughts? Yeah... probably wouldn't have been good... at all.

 

[GABA]

OOC: Well I don't think a little mind-rape and reprogramming would do him harm :P

Rehni held her breath the entire time Malz spoke to Deacon, she felt there was nothing to worry about, but no one ever knew what would ever come next. He muttered to her about why he didn't visit bars and she shrugged at his comment and waved off his support. However, a free ride back to the temple, she couldn't refuse, "I woulds having notting guessing you lived at the temple." she smiled accepting his offer, "Wes canning always hitting ups another bar." she laughed.

 

[Malz]

Malz shook his head and replied, "Oh no, I suppose I don't even have a temple to call home. Pretty much anywhere with a big library, if I have free time. Otherwise I tend to, as I said before, hop from system to system helping those in need. It's largely kept me out of the war so far, which works for me. War was one of the few things that legitimately made him sad. So much pain and misery, and he can only do so much to help. And, once he did help, off they were again to kill and be get yet another injury anyway. It was such a vicious cycle.

He turned to her with a raised eyebrow at her last question, "I think we've had enough bar adventures for a while, or at least I have. Drunken beings aren't exactly on my list of favorite things; and believe me, I've got a long list."

 

[Saint]

With two of the three Jedi gone now, Deacon picked up his drink and made his way over towards where they had been previously seated. Gesturing towards a vacated chair, he asked the young Padawan, "This seat taken?" Giving the mercenary a sidelong glance, he awaited a response before just up and sitting down. Glancing over at one of the view screens briefly, he further commented, "Either of you bettin' men?" With that, he turned back towards them, ready to take the empty seat he was next to as he took a good sip from his glass.

 

[GABA]

She smiled, she didn't think he would want to go to anymore bars but thought back to him mentioning avoiding battle.

"Healers woulding being much appreciated ons the battlefield." she whispered thinking about her experiences, then shrugged, then she had a thought and laughed, "But drunken soldiers aftering battles probably would notting keeping you theres for very longs. What elses ising ons that list ofing things you do notting like?"

 

[Raider]

With two of the three Jedi gone now, Deacon picked up his drink and made his way over towards where they had been previously seated. Gesturing towards a vacated chair, he asked the young Padawan, "This seat taken?" Giving the mercenary a sidelong glance, he awaited a response before just up and sitting down. Glancing over at one of the view screens briefly, he further commented, "Either of you bettin' men?" With that, he turned back towards them, ready to take the empty seat he was next to as he took a good sip from his glass.

Segor stretched out an open hand toward the empty seat the man had asked about in a clear gesture that signed he had no problem with him filling it.

"Depends. What we bettin' on?"

He said. A sly smile creeping up the sides of his face. Betting was something he'd enjoy far more than listening to anymore Jedi stories.

 

[Saint]

As he took a seat, Deacon tilted his head towards one of the view screens that was displaying swoop bike races. Replying simply as he adjusted his chair, drawing himself closer to the table, he stated, "The Swoop races." Adjusting his vest a bit, he reclined some in his chair as he went on, "It's one thing t'bet with the tellers an' such in their automated system." Pulling out a stack of credits, he laid a couple hundred down on the table as he quirked a grin, "Quite another t'bet another fella head-on."

Nodding towards the view screen once again, he began to make a wager, "I'd bet two hun'erd credits on the Duracrete Dungan for this nex' race. You game t'pick a racer for y'self an' bet straight up?" Glancing over at the Jedi Padawan, he rather hoped the young man would get involved with it as well, but he wouldn't hold his breath. Jedi were Jedi. However, Padawans typically weren't as... bland?... or perhaps the correct word was anal... as their Knight and Master counterparts. Heh.

 

[Malz]

Malz looked away for a moment. He knew he was needed. Someone of his skills would surely be an asset on the battlefield. But he simply couldn't do it. He knew he wouldn't be able to handle the amount of death that would surround him. Heavy Force sensitivity came with a price, and he wasn't ready to shoulder the extra burden. Not yet.

To her question though he turned back and smiled, "Oh very few things. I'm typically a happy-go-lucky guy. But I guess to actually answer your question, I'd have to say, besides drunkenness, fighting I suppose. It's been years since I've even ignited my lightsaber. I wonder if it even still works, haha."

 

[GABA]

"Perhapings it mays having months inside." suggested Rehni as a joke, "You notting always fight withing a lightsaber, what if you having to defend yourself?" she asked, "Then whats? Will you notting fight?"

 

[Malz]

He chuckled, "The way I see it, if I want to cut something, I'll use the lightsaber. So far I've never wanted to cut anything, barring certain medical procedures. The Force is a good enough weapon for me, and it's not as lethal. If I can incapacitate an attacker without killing, I will do it."

 

[GABA]

"Eh, ifing wes having too many fighters in the Order, I guessing we would notting being much of Jedi." she gave a small shrug, "Howevers, wes still could using a healer like yous ons the batttlefield. I woulds feeling more comfortables going into-ing a fight knowing we having Jedi Healers waiting for us to returns."