- Joined
- Nov 26, 2016
- Messages
- 655
- Reaction score
- 463
Dantooine
Late Evening
Late Evening
It did not make much of a difference what part of the galaxy you were in. Whether you were in the beating heart of the crumbling Republic, the domain of the Sith, the protected world of the Jedi or the war-territores of the Mandalorians. Walking the streets of a populated area at night was an oft-unwise and less than recommended practice. Yet the figure continued to walk, his hood pulled back just enough to show the faint outline of youthful features. His robes were light and it should have been easy to spot whatever weapon he carried. Yet for some reason not a soul even glanced his way, perhaps he was not even there, an apparition in the night.
Darth Cain, Dark Lord of the Sith, Lord of the Mind, Obliterator of Tython, Steward of the Dark Side and Pontiff of the Sith Empire. That was who he was. That was the horrific reality beneath the veneer of the charming smile he gave the Duros bouncer as he approached the cantina. That was the truth of the man who shook the Duros' hand and offered him words of pleasantry before stepping into the loud confines. That was the terror that had just stepped foot into an enclosed space filled with civilians, both armed and unarmed. Yet he was not here to cause a scene, nor was he here for mischief unless it found him.
He was here for a drink and good conversation.
Cain in the guise of the young Wake Olpierr, the identity of the man he left behind, made his way through the busy place. Music played around him with cheery ups and downs that drove the patrons to dance their cares away. Drinks rose and fell on tables as males and females drank, cards were dealt by droids and smiles abounded. Cain drank of all of it, after all-this too was a form of passion. He felt strong in this place, alive, more so than the abomination beneath the carefully crafted force illusions and barriers to disguise his presence. The six eyed creature lurking just molecules beneath the surface.
Another pack of patrons crossed his path. A male gave him a husky smile and he returned it, biting a lip and raising an eyebrow before passing him by. He winked at a female faleen as she brushed his shoulder, offering a word of apology. All the while he worked his way to the counter, and to that neat head of white hair behind it. It took some doing, but he finally found a seat at the counter. A trandoshan gave him a leery look and he shot back with a grin of his own, throwing back his hood and revealing his pleasant face. The reptile turned away, more interested in his drink as Cain leaned into the counter. He waited until she approached, and then he took in every detail of her face.
White hair and golden eyes marked a fair face that had been weathered by trials and tribulations. He leaned an elbow on the counter, resting his chin on it as she approached, appreciating her figure for a moment before locking eyes with her.
"Hello Shae. Haven't seen you since Ossus." He said, tilting his head subtly toward the crowd as a warning. He wasn't here for blood, but he certainly was not above drawing it if he had to. The entire cantina was his hostage as far as he was concerned. "How are you?"
Darth Cain, Dark Lord of the Sith, Lord of the Mind, Obliterator of Tython, Steward of the Dark Side and Pontiff of the Sith Empire. That was who he was. That was the horrific reality beneath the veneer of the charming smile he gave the Duros bouncer as he approached the cantina. That was the truth of the man who shook the Duros' hand and offered him words of pleasantry before stepping into the loud confines. That was the terror that had just stepped foot into an enclosed space filled with civilians, both armed and unarmed. Yet he was not here to cause a scene, nor was he here for mischief unless it found him.
He was here for a drink and good conversation.
Cain in the guise of the young Wake Olpierr, the identity of the man he left behind, made his way through the busy place. Music played around him with cheery ups and downs that drove the patrons to dance their cares away. Drinks rose and fell on tables as males and females drank, cards were dealt by droids and smiles abounded. Cain drank of all of it, after all-this too was a form of passion. He felt strong in this place, alive, more so than the abomination beneath the carefully crafted force illusions and barriers to disguise his presence. The six eyed creature lurking just molecules beneath the surface.
Another pack of patrons crossed his path. A male gave him a husky smile and he returned it, biting a lip and raising an eyebrow before passing him by. He winked at a female faleen as she brushed his shoulder, offering a word of apology. All the while he worked his way to the counter, and to that neat head of white hair behind it. It took some doing, but he finally found a seat at the counter. A trandoshan gave him a leery look and he shot back with a grin of his own, throwing back his hood and revealing his pleasant face. The reptile turned away, more interested in his drink as Cain leaned into the counter. He waited until she approached, and then he took in every detail of her face.
White hair and golden eyes marked a fair face that had been weathered by trials and tribulations. He leaned an elbow on the counter, resting his chin on it as she approached, appreciating her figure for a moment before locking eyes with her.
"Hello Shae. Haven't seen you since Ossus." He said, tilting his head subtly toward the crowd as a warning. He wasn't here for blood, but he certainly was not above drawing it if he had to. The entire cantina was his hostage as far as he was concerned. "How are you?"
@Sreeya