Ask Nar Shaddaa Red Like Adrenaline

[Inès]

Nar Shaddaa, 13:00 local time

Tap, tap, tap. The distinct sound of aluminum being rapped against a concrete surface made faint echoes throughout the empty hallway as Inès absentmindedly continued the rhythm, too lost in thought to be fully aware of the noise.

Tap, tap, t- The noise came to an abrupt stop when the can was finally brought away from the ground and held in front of the indigo twi'lek's oddly colored eyes. She regarded the can with vague interest, half-heartedly scanning the blurb of aurebesh on the back that supposedly listed legal warnings and ingredients. She had been on her own for a year now — comparatively, at least — and the days had begun to blend together. It'd been a few weeks since her last job, which meant money was running thin again. Worst case scenario she could go back to the home and ask if she could come back. She was sure they'd say yes. After all, she was one of Father's children. And she went over for dinner sometimes anyway. And she-

"Gods, Inès, you gotta get your hands busy, girl." She interrupted her own spiraling thoughts, jumping up onto her feet as she grumbled at herself under her breath. The same hand that had been tapping the spray paint can began to shake it back and forth, bouncing around the glass marble inside and mixing up the paint. A familiar feeling began to rise up as heat in her chest, weighing her down and invigorating her at the same time. She needed to do something. She needed to do something crazy. Then she'd feel better, and then she'd go find work.

The tattooed twi'lek emerged on the busy Nar Shaddaa streets. She tucked her hands into the pockets of her paint-stained jacket, one gripping the red spray paint can and the other curled around her shitty brick of a phone. A pair of edgy black sunglasses were perched on her nose, shielding her bi-colored eyes from the moon's harsh sun. They rose up above the bodies around them, above the colorful fabrics shading market stalls, and above the rooves of the buildings to search for her target. "There it is."

Not too far off in the distance, there was a billboard towering above the tops of buildings. It ran pretty standard advertisements. 'Need droids? Look to Blackwell!' sat on the screen, then transitioned to 'Bonheur' in big, fancy black letters with the fashion empire's stoic white face right beside it. So many advertisements for huge corporations. Anywhere else, there'd probably be government propaganda there too, but this was Nar Shaddaa for the gods' sake. But, regardless, it was big, ugly, and boring, and Inès wanted to spice things up.

Weaving and bobbing through the crowd, Inès made a beeline for it, slipping through alleys and vaulting over gates and obstacles. But her attention was snatched away by the unmistakable sound of paint being forced out of a can.

Curious, Inès peeked around the corner. Her eyes settled on the back of some unknown figure and the tag that they were in the midst of throwing up onto a wall. Her eyes sparkled in recognition. She'd seen that tag around, a lot. Yet someone she'd never stumbled across its owner until now.

Content with not knowing who it was — she had her own mission anyways — Inès turned to leave. As she did, to her dismay, the spray paint can in her pocket slipped out and hit the concrete ground with a very loud clanging sound.

@Fine Dining Set

 

[Vossari Khaldun]

Vossari kept to the shadows in Nar Shadda. Too many times burnt, too many times threatened, too many times strung out for someone so new to the planet. Their face risked becoming a known quantity, and having the local bottom feeders of Nar Shadda nibbling at their heels was decidedly low on their list of priorities. They had already run afoul of a minor Hutt lord, destroying their vacation penthouse in a flashy display. An offense to one Hutt was an offense to them all.

But the danger had an allure to it. He risked the chance of being caught by some Hutt goon or planetary drifter to work on his craft. In alleyways, gutters, old transit stations, one could find the tag of the ΣΙθ επανάσταση - the Tethysian graffiti artist. The name was always accompanied by geometric patterns - zigzagging hexagons of red and black. When he had enough time, the design could become quite elaborate. Interlocking rings, floral patterns and roots, detailed figures made of contrasting shapes and colors emerge and spread across the wall.

He had been working since eleven. So far, he had completed the piercing, red eyes of a looming monster made of words and lines in the Wrean language. It was crude, in their opinion, a lower kind of art. But today was the beginning of something greater. He was Sith now, even if only an acolyte. And his work was truly beginning the ΣΙθ επανάσταση - the Sith Revolution.

Their arms were covered by oversized, black workwear - a painter's suit with mask and goggles. While, most importantly, it concealed his face, it had the dual function of filtering the harsh pollutants of the clouds of paint he sprayed. He bobbed his head along to a longtime favorite as paint splattered the wall ahead.

They heard something clang behind them, and their brown eyes darted back. A Hutt goon? His hand went to his utility belt beneath his painter's clothes - reaching for his hidden lightsaber. But he caught sight of the can of paint.

No.

A grin crept beneath his mask. Whoever was here was first to witness the greatness of his work. "You're not one of the normal Hutt dogs." Curiosity tinged with voice, as did his obvious sense of self-importance. He gestured to the swirling, ominous mass of shapes that formed the alien beast he had painted on the wall. "Didn't realize I had to worry about stalkers."

@lizziie

 

[Inès]

She didn't even have a chance to wince at the sound as she instinctively moved to snatch it up from the ground. But her reflexes weren't enough to save her from being noticed. She straightened herself back up, and as she did she could see the figure turning as well, their hand reaching for their belt. That was never a good sign, especially when she'd surprised them and this was Nar-fucking-Shaddaa, Inès could feel her heart start to race. But they didn't draw their weapon — they spoke instead — and while Inès couldn't help but feel a little disappointed as her heart rate calmed, it was for the better. She wasn't looking for a fight.

She couldn't help but snort at being called a 'Hutt dog', or not a "normal one", at least. "Far from it, my guy," she said in response, resting her weight and a hand on one hip as she surveyed them and the mural they'd been throwing up behind them. Two eyes — one piercing yellow, the other a bold orange — traveled along the flow of the graffiti, taking in the lines, colors, imagery, and text within it. There was no masking of her emotions on her face; if Vossari was at all insightful, they would know Inès was not just someone looking at their art, but actually judging it.

Her eyes lingered on the text a little longer than anywhere else. ΣΙθ επανάσταση. They were words in a text she didn't recognize the meaning of, but she'd seen them before.

The corners of her lips curved up. Whoever they were, they had an eye for their art. It wasn't just an explosion of color thrown up on a wall to fill empty space. Though, she would have no qualms with such a thing either. "This your tag then? I've seen this pop up places. Wasn't expectin' to run across whoever's been doin' it today. Puttin' a face to a name n' that. Or, mask rather."

"What's it say?"

Vossari wouldn't get a chance to answer, let alone decide whether or not they wanted to, because their little exchange would be interrupted by the heavy footsteps and distinct harsh chattering of gamorreans. They rounded the corner, stopped, and their eyes were drawn toward the mural.

"Hey! Ain't that- ?" "Yeah! Get 'em!"

Masked or not, standing in front of the mural belonging to someone who had ticked off a Hutt was evidence enough for the hutt dogs, and Inès wasn't going to stick around and find out if she was being included in that "em" or not. Her eyes jumped from the guards to Vossari. She looked far from concerned, maybe a bit thrilled, even. And then she was off.

"Stop!" One of the guards started to run after Inès, while the other leveled his weapon and began to head straight for Vossari as menacingly as he could muster.

@Fine Dining Set

 

[Vossari Khaldun]

Few but Wrean, and even fewer among the Wrean, would understand the symbols of his work. That was the idea - create symbolism so arcane and so unique that it would burrow into peoples' minds, create a locked puzzle that would eventually lead them to the mysteries of the Dark Side. They opened their mouth to explain their genius, but the Gammorreans appeared, grunting first.

Now outnumbered, Voss had to act quickly and think quicker. He could try to fight - either kill or be killed. Killing them would only raise his bounty. And getting captured would make him the subject to a fate far worse. So, they did what they knew: Voss ran. He pointed his spray paint and the armed Gamorreans face and squeezed, sending a barrage of color directly into the pigman's eye. The guard snorted with pain, and Vossari followed up with a quick kick to the ribs, using the momentum to bounce off of the guard sprint away.

Into another set of guards' arms. "You kriffing pigs!" He yelled, as the Gamorreans walloped on him. Each one of their fists hit like a sack of bricks. He should have just murdered them from the beginning. This whole 'less-violent resistance' kick was starting to get old.

His eyes darted around. Knocked to the ground, Voss could only see Inès's shoes against the pavement as she ran away. "Hey! HEY! DON'T LET THESE FASCISTS TAKE ME!" Each time he tried to reach into his pockets, he took another hit from the Gamorreans. If they could just be distracted, he could probably get the kriff outta there.

@lizziie

 

[Inès]

Inès would've kept running, but there were two things that stopped her. One, the gamorrean stopped running after her. The thundering footsteps stopped as the guard turned back, and Inès glanced backward to see the green-skinned alien's back. "Lame." Her eyes jumped past him to Vossari, who was... not doing well. Their plea reached her cone ears, and she realized she'd have to make a decision about this right now.

She didn't know this guy, and she'd learned over and over again that no one other than her sister or the other Children had her back, but gods be damned. Fuck the hutts, and fuck, she did want to know what the words on the mural meant. They'd looked like they were about to explain.

Plus, if she wasn't going to be chased, what was the point in running?

The twi'lek leaned back and put her weight into her leading heel, bringing her sprint to a stop, and used that leftover momentum to fully spin herself around. "Fuck, more of them?" Two more guards had arrived. There was no way she could go toe-to-toe with four gamorreans without a blaster. In fact, all she had was a spray paint can and a knife.

That would do. "Hey pigs!" Inès shouted. "Think fast!" The twi'lek took her vibroblade and sank it into the side of the pressurized can, then slung her arm forward like a pitcher. The metal slid out of the can as the force of the swing dislodged the can, and the pressurized insides sent red spray spraying everywhere in a rapid circle. The can arched perfectly over Vossari, assaulting their eyes, mouths, and noses with red paint and toxic fumes.

A moment later, Inès crashed into one of the guards, using her shoulder to cushion her impact. It threw the guard off balance and he stumbled away. The chaos that had ensued would give Vossari a chance to escape, albeit briefly.

"C'mon!" Inès grabbed Vossari by the closest thing she could get a hold of — whether that was their arm or their hood — and attempted to drag them up so the two of them could book it out of there.

@Fine Dining Set

 

[Vossari Khaldun]

Vossari took the opportunity to sprint. Their first instinct was to ignite their bloody, red saber right there and finish the job on these fascists. But revealing himself as a Sith right here, right now, would do more harm than good. So, instead of fighting, he tumbled away from the blinded Gamorreans. Now was the time to fly.

Taken by the twi'lek's hand, Voss ran down the alley, extending a middle finger to the guards as they did so. They vaulted over chain fences, through alleyways, and crept up small buildings to escape the guards. They had a knowledge of the streetscape and a nimbleness that only Nar Shadda's degenerate vandals could muster. He wheezed as he ran; his body wracked with bruises and maybe broken ribs.

Eventually, they reached a clearing - a balcony that acted as a proverbial hill, opening the maw of Nar Shadda's immense skyline to the two of them. Hovercars zipped past as ads of neon hues hummed everpresent in the background. In the din of the chatter of commerce & crime, the pair would feel safe again. They were just small drops in an endless sea of criminals.

When the adrenaline faded, Voss slumped down to clutch their aching ribs. From the folds of his jacket, they produced a cigarra blunt - marcan herb carefully wrapped in cigarra leaf. He lit one, took a long pull, and passed it to Inès. He let the smoke fill his lungs for a long moment before exhaling from his nostrils, plumes of gray slowly wafting out into the air.

"Thanks for the assist back there. Slick move with the spray paint - I'ma have to remember that." They spoke plainly, exhaling with a pain. "I wasn't done that piece, though. Kriffing pigs." He groaned out a cough, clutching at their ribs again. "I'm gonna pay them back."

They looked at their newfound ally. Why had they helped them? Had they attracted the Gamorreans in the first place? Now, that wouldn't make much sense, but its was possible, right? In time, they hoped, the truth would reveal itself. "I think you've earned a question or two, stalker. Go on. I'm an open book."

@lizziie

 

[Inès]

The thrill of the chase; the thrill of being chased. It was a thrill in itself, but it wasn't the meal she wanted. Inès knew they'd get away. The gamorreans only had so much chase in them, and both she and the stranger she was fleeing with had an innate knowledge of the streets on their side. The pigs never stood a chance. It was like a thrilling appetizer. Meh.

Still, her heart was racing from the exercise even if the adrenaline had since worn off, so the cigarra was appreciated. The twi'lek accepted the blunt from them with a grin, then leaned forward with her forearms on the balcony railing while she took a drag of the blunt. The smoke filled her lungs, hot and heavy, and burned the back of her mouth as she exhaled it out her nose. A hovercar, a bit off the stream, zipped by and took the smoke cloud with it.

"Mm, yeah. Guess you'll have to be faster next time," Inès commented. She turned around so that she was facing toward the seated Vossari, forearms still supporting her lean. At their comment about payback, a grin spread across her lips, revealing sharp white teeth. Getting back at the Hutts? She fucked with it.

"Might wanna save those thoughts of revenge 'til you're not clutching your side," she said as she passed the blunt back to them. Her grin shifted to a more humorous, lopsided one. "Easier to fuck shit up if you ain't fucked up yourself."

"Stalker." Inès exhaled sharply out her nose at the second mention of that word. But oh my, two whole questions? "Damn, really? How generous." Guess it was worth it to save their ass if she'd get to ask the question she'd had in the first place.

She held up her thumb for the first one. "Well, again, what'd the text say? And uh- " She put up her index finger with the thumb, but paused for a few moments while she tried to think of another question. In the end, Inès couldn't think of anything she thought she might care about, not at the moment at least. "What's your name?"

That'd work for now.

@Fine Dining Set

 

[Vossari Khaldun]

"Vossari. Vossari Khaldun." He answered the latter question first, an easy enough answer. Soon the whole galaxy would know their name. "And you are?"

To the first question, though, Vossari pondered a thorough response. Again, he believed it was too soon to reveal his outright Sith ties. But the whole point of the art was to communicate ideas - maybe this moment would be instructional to their work. "It says...the truth. There's a new wind blowing in the galaxy. It's going to knock down the corrupt foundations of this whole galaxy." The Sith were no longer an Empire...some lamented the loss of power, but being an empire had only ever chained the Sith to the petty politics of the Senate. Now, they were returned to an idea. An ideal of freedom, of power at any cost, the ability to control one's own fate and destiny. To control the destiny of the galaxy simply through the force of one's will - that was the greatest of the Sith ideas.

"'The Old Beast has Shed Its Skin.' That was the name of the mural. It's a lot more, uh....poetic sounding....in Tethysian." They mused. It sounded a little long-winded in Basic, now that they actually spoke it. "But that's just theory. Theory without practice isn't worth much." Yes, creating delicate, interesting depictions of Vossari's thoughts on the dark side was fun, but taking action and embodying those beliefs was far more important. "Do you know a lot about 'The Force'? A lot of my work deals with that." An entry-level question, to see if it would be worth talking more about the subject.

They took another pull from the blunt, watching the speeders pass by in the glow of the night. It reminded them of nights in the past - when they were younger, new to the scene of Nar Shadda. Just smoking, talking, and making art. That was the only thing that mattered back then. "You make art too, yeah? What's your tag?" Maybe they had seen it before.

@lizziie

 

[Inès]

Inès'ziveri," she answered in turn, putting a short pause in between her first and clan name to indicate it wasn't all one name. A lot of the time, twi'lek names got standardized into a first name and last name — in her case, Inès Ziveri — in official documents and such, but twi'leki convention did it differently.

No matter, it was good to now have a name to the face. A name for the one who had been leaving sprayed murals up around Nar Shaddaa. As Vossari explained, a curious look would wash over her face. "A new wind, huh," she repeated as she readjusted her stance to put her weight on one leg. They had the right idea, at least. Probably more than they realize, she thought smugly. Inès had no idea how much more similar both of their philosophies were than she thought at that moment.

Her attention was clearly grabbed when Vossari mentioned the Force. Her eyes had started to drift off a little like her attention was distracted for a moment, but they snapped back the second it was mentioned. The look of surprise on her face was disguised after she realized what her reaction had been, and her response came out sounding a little too intentional for someone who kind of just seemed to say things. But not that much.

"I know of it, yeah," she started, intentionally not answering about the extent of her knowledge. There was a small debate going on in her head at that moment. She so desperately wanted to know why Vossari was throwing up pieces 'dealing' with the Force. There were so many questions she had. But the last thing she wanted to do was feel the sharp pain of disappointment if it turned out her hopes were misplaced.

Before she could decide whether or not to be nosey, they posed their own question to her.

"Ah, yeah. I tag shit with this." The indigo twi'lek reached into her pocket and pulled out her brick of a phone. A few taps and swipes later she held out the screen toward Vossari for them to look at. On the screen was a slightly blurry picture of a mostly blank grey wall with her tag front and center. "This is my tag." She didn't bother to explain what it said — "bomb" — since it was written in ur-Kittât anyway. "I got this shit all over Nar Shaddaa. Even got one up there." She turned and pointed up toward a towering building off in the distance, implying she'd climbed it to tag it.

"There's a billboard I gotta get my paws on though. Probably do more than just tag it, though," she added with a grin.

@Fine Dining Set

 

[Vossari Khaldun]

Was that...Ur-Kittat? He had seen this tag before, back when he had first heard about the Sith. The art is the first thing he had learned, the symbols painted on buildings. They were appetizing, a puzzle that lodged their way into his mind. Before Param, before the academy, before anything, it was this tag that had taught Vossari about the Sith. Their insatiable thirst to uncover the deeper meanings of these texts had put them on the track they're on now. In a way, then, Vossari realized they were speaking to their first teacher.

Vossari's amber eyes widened, mouth dropping, which they quickly covered with their respirator once more. "No fucking way. That's you?" He imitated an explosion with his hands, opening his mouth to speak a pained, broken Ur-Kittat. <Bomb?> They tried to hide their obvious enthusiasm, but it suddenly struck them:

They were about the same age. How old had Inès'ziveri been when she came up with this tag? How did this random Twi'Lek deadbeat know Ur-Kittat? He had to know more. But, learning this things was a delicate game - most of the graffiti artists they knew were incredibly paranoid about their art and identities. It would be improper to pry. For now, though, they had a shared understanding that both of them had secrets tied to the Dark Side of the Force. Both had something to learn from the other.

And they had a game to play. "A billboard? What's the plan?" He rose to his feet. With each hit of the blunt, the pain subsided. He felt ease coming to his breath. "Wanna take my bike?"

@lizziie

 

[Inès]

Initially, Inès wasn't surprised. She grinned, knowing that since she'd been tagging since she was a preteen, there was a decent chance they'd recognize it. But when they imitated an explosion and-

Hold up, hold up, they knew what ur-kittât was? Who the hell had she stumbled into meeting today?

Regardless, her surprise was tangible. She was infinitely more curious about them now than she had been before. The twi'lek was no longer leaning on the railing anymore, though she had one hand gripped around it. Inès had so many questions, but like Vossari, she was hesitant to go spewing questions.

But, billboard? "Fuck yeah, aight- " Inès proceeded to give Vossari a rundown. Tall ass billboard. Sketchy ass ladder you probably needed a harness for, but no security since no sane person would attempt to climb it. But it was very climbable for anyone who had the balls to give it a go. And at the very top, nothing but boring, plain corporate and government bullshit. Plenty of room to fill. "Shit you got a bike? Let's fucking go!"

The billboard was a little bit away, but heading there via bike would shorten the time by quite a bit, and it made up for all the "lost" time Inès spent between stumbling across Vossari in the first place and now. Like Inès said, there was no security, unless the chain wire fence that surrounded it counted (it didn't). Past the interlocked grey wires, a thick pole of metal shot upward into the sky up to the railed balcony that surrounded the massive advertisement board. A singular ladder led up one side. Like most of these things did, the ladder was suspended several feet off the ground, but that would only pose a temporary issue.

"There should be... yeah, yeah! Here we go." Inès had wandered off a bit, and after pushing away a broken pile of boxes with her foot, pulled out a backpack. Objects within the backspace were pushing into the fabric, making it look a bit lumpy. "Took a risk stashin' some cans here, but it paid off."

@Fine Dining Set

 

[Vossari Khaldun]

Vossari led them down a long alleyway, slowly, deliberately, to avoid straining his injuries. Eventually, somewhere in the direction of the mural, there sat a speeder bike. They slipped into the driver space, and patted encouragingly on the space behind them. "Hold on tight." They sped off into traffic, coursing their way into a different district of Nar Shadda, with different problems.

He listened as Inès explained the score: It would be easy enough to just take the hover speeder straight to the top of the billboard, but Inès seemed so excited about the rickety climb up, Vossari couldn't help but indulge. They parked their speeder a fair distance away as they approached the ladder. He picked up the first can he saw - an orange lid sat on it. Vossari leapt up - force power adding to their natural agility - and clamped on to the ladder.

Slowly, he began to climb up, swaying in the polluted winds. As he climbed, he peered into the skyscraper around them. They saw their reflection, and looked down to see how far from the ground they were. A slip would be fatal. "Why here?" His palms were starting to sweat from strain. Was there some greater meaning to this? But, his curiosity took over. This twi'lek had been a major inspiration for the development of his work.

He looked up to her, he was scared to admit. He wanted to know her opinion. He needed her respect. "What's the motive?"

@lizziie

 

[Inès]

In preparation for the climb, Inès shrugged off her jacket, leaving the bulk of it aside in favor of the simple black tank top she wore underneath. Her tattoos, which had been hidden before, were finally visible.

While Vossari was able to just leap up, grab the last rung on the ladder, and pull themself up, Inès lacked one of the variables in that equation in order to follow suit. Instead, she ran toward the pole and leapt. The momentum from her sprint allowed her to get a couple of steps up the pole before gravity started to do its job, but she was ready. Just as she might've fallen backward off the pole, Inès pushed off backward as hard as she could, reaching her arms out back and above her head as she did. Her hands smacked into the ladder, and she quickly closed her palms around the rung. A few seconds later she was up climbing after Vossari.

Climbing behind Vossari made the risk feel even higher. She didn't know them, so she didn't know if shit like this was slightly crazy or absolutely insane to them. Inès had done this before; her muscles were used to this. If Vossari slipped and fell, she'd surely be knocked off as well.

Why here? What was the motive? "I'll tell you if we reach the top," she shouted back, grinning. They still had a bit to climb, and it would only get windier as they moved past the buildings that would shield them from the winds of Nar Shaddaa.

The ladder was rusted in some places, and some of the rungs would surely have been weakened from it. Every time the wind blew they would feel their muscles struggling against it, pulling them closer to the ladder as the wind tried to push it away from them. At some point Inès held on with only one hand, using the other to clip the backpack straps together across her chest. They were several hundred feet above the ground by now.

Every time the wind blew a bit too hard, or every time Inès became aware of how high up she was again, a rush of adrenaline shot through her veins. The danger and recklessness of it all made her feel alive. She hoped by the time they reached the top, Vossari would understand as well. If not, well, there was always the prize of getting to deface a giant billboard too.

@Fine Dining Set

 

[Vossari Khaldun]

Vossari cast a gaze out from the rickety ladder, examining the busy skyline and zooming speeders that glinted as far as the eye could see. A cherry red skycar ripped past them, forcing Vossari to grip tightly. As the ladder swayed, Vossari gently opened their left palm, sending their intention towards the rickety ladder. Slowly, it stablized. He hoped he hadn't given himself away, but, at this point, assumed it would be inevitable by the end of their excursion. In truth, that was what made his heart beat this mission: Her. The acrobatics and antics were always fun, but, since becoming a Sith, now felt more like a job than anything else. He had gotten better and better at navigating cityscapes, but had less and less time for his art. That was his true passion.

And Inès was the catalyst to take his art to the next level. Vossari had to know who she was, how she knew the Sith language way out here...how she became so talented at her craft. To that end, they had to protect her as she had protected them, and would do everything in his power to make their climb as easy as possible. At the summit of the ladder, some levels up from the nearest landing, Vossari crawled to a narrow ledge beneath the billboard.

They took their pain can from their hands and discarded the lid. It caught a breeze and flew, falling, falling, falling to the distant streets beneath. One slip here could mean death. Vossari took a seat at the ledge, relighting the blunt, to think for a moment before painting. They wanted to make something meaningful.

After another puff puff, they passed it to Inès. "Ur-Kittat. What's that mean to you?" Vossari searched her face for answers, his brown eyes gleaming with the glow of the city's skyline. In their mind burned one question: Was she another Sith, too?

@lizziie

 

[Inès]

Inès was surprised at how easy the climb was, all things considered. The wind, the skycar, and the rusty ladder; all of those factors surely should have led to some mishap or another. Perhaps she was getting too good at things like these. Maybe she should set her eyes toward bigger horizons?

"I do it because it makes me feel alive," she answered, fulfilling her promise to explain to the Wrean what the point of all this was to her once they both reached the top. Her palm curled around the last rung as she pulled herself up onto the balcony, her muscles flexing under her tattoos as she made the final effort up. The twi'lek took a seat down next to Vossari, and continued.

"The adrenaline. The thrill." She glanced down toward the ground, so far beyond where her boots hung and the sky began and felt the surge of emotion as her body fought her mind. She grinned. "This is freedom. Putting your life at risk, succeeding, and feeling all that emotion."

The twi'lek grew quiet, giving Vossari the opening to ask their question of her. She'd already gone back to think of Father and the Children, and the mention of ur-kittât brought the topic straight to it. Out of all the others, Inès was one of the few that ever really seemed to thrive on the dangers they were put up against. She couldn't count on two hands how many times she'd brushed shoulders with death. In a way, it had started as a coping mechanism to deal with, mentally, the stress of the missions she and the others were sent on. "For the Sith." The Sith that would one day take their rightful rule of the Galaxy.

She accepted the blunt, took a long drag, and pondered what she was willing to tell them. They knew ur-kittât. Were they Sith? Or were they like her? Perhaps, more than anyone else, they would understand.

Inès turned her cheek to glance over at Vossari, meeting their gaze with two intense colors of her own. She studied them back for a second, unabashed, then took one more hit before handing the blunt back and answering.

A burst of wind whistled by as she began to speak. "It's the language of the future. Of the Sith." She reached out toward the city skyline and clenched her fist as if she were grasping something from the air. "There are those who are born destined to rule the galaxy. The weak cannot accept this; they stand in the way." As reckless and carefree as Inès might have seemed before, her tone was completely serious now. She meant every word she spoke.

"Father taught me," came the more concrete response. "He was Sith." Was she said, because she was not sure whether or not the man was dead or alive.

The serious look washed completely off Inès' face, replaced with a grin and a devious look in her eyes. "What do you think of that, Vossari? That what you expected?" She had a good feeling about them, but if push came to shove, well, she had both hands on the balcony and they were the one with the blunt.

"What's it mean to you, then?"

@Fine Dining Set

 

[Vossari Khaldun]

Vossari listened intently as Inès explained herself. A daughter of the Sith? Someone who knew their philosophy, their language, enough to pass it on to a daughter? Vossari had not seen her at the academy - perhaps explaining her deliberate choice in language. Her father was a Sith. She was not.

"Destiny." That was a curious concept. Yes, the Sith were destined to rule, but equally destined to fall. They waxed and waned like phases of the moon, unable to truly cement a lasting hold on the galaxy. It was this period, this moment, that was most exciting; it was easy to be a Sith when one had the apparatus of an Empire backing them. It was a challenge when they were weak, and hard times made for stronger Sith. "Exactly. At the dawn of creation, before the existence of light, there was darkness. Before there was restraint, there was passion. This is the first story ever told, and it's the galaxy's destiny to return to its origins."

This blunt was really hitting. He leaned back, brushing his braids out of his face to the night sky, before engulfing the two of them in another cloud of smoke. It slowly wafted out into the polluted sky. He watched as her eyes twinkled, delighted to revel in her story.

"I think that destiny has put us here, together, at this moment." Wobbly, he rose to his feet. "For I, too, inherit your Father's legacy." He withdrew his lightsaber from his waistband and tilted it aloft, giving Ines an opportunity to appreciate the craftsmanship of the blade. They ignited the blade, and blood red plasma leapt to life into the sky.

Like a moth to the flame, waving around a lightsaber instantly attracted attention, even this high up. In the distance, another set of gamorrean thugs spotted them, this time seeing Vossari standing there maniacally. A patrol craft whizzed through traffic towards them - aiming to fire.

Vossari's eyes widened and they shut their blade off and took out their paint canister, hurriedly tagging the letters F U onto the billboard as the craft careened their way. "Oh shit that was dumb. Uh, let's just be quick with our tag and get out of here?"

@lizziie

 

[Inès]

Her indigo skin was bathed in violent, neon red light after Vossari pulled forth their lightsaber and ignited it before her. Her eyes grew wide at the sight, but not in fear. Not, not at all. At first, it was awe, but then it was replaced with something far more passionate. Sith. Right before her eyes.

Unfortunately, before the two could talk further, the gamorreans were making their return. "Damn it," she sighed as she leapt up onto her feet. Shoving her hand into her backpack, Inès yanked out a can at random and quickly popped the cap on. Shaking it as she moved, Inès reached up and threw her tag up in a few seconds.

"Right, get out of here how?" Inès glanced down the ladder. If they tried to climb down, the guards would just have free range to shoot them at will. But what if they could get them to come close enough to the balcony...?

"Hey!" Inès waved over to Vossari, her eyes moving from them to the approaching patrol craft, a wicked grin on her face. Her eyes jumped back and she asked, "You thinking what I'm thinking?"

She'd never stolen a patrol craft before.

@Fine Dining Set

 

[Vossari Khaldun]

Vossari matched her grin. In this chaotic Twi'lek, he had found a kindred spirit. That was rare enough - as exciting as Sith life was, so many of their people were so stodgy. Studying, playing the respectable politics games, and only letting their emotions drive them to senseless acts of violence. Here, he found someone who appreciated the artistry of the Sith culture; someone who had taught him that.

"I think I am." Vossari really wanted to get back at those guards. As the patrol boat closed in on the two of them, he grabbed her wrist. His eyes, big, burning, brown, met hers. They moved her hand to their heart, the rapid thumping signaling life. "You feel that? All this stupid shit we're doing is adding up. We have to be perfectly in sync for this to work." He was nervous, now, excited; perhaps a taste of the feeling that Inès so craved. Their adventure had turned his heart into a beating drum, a rhythm powerful enough to swallow them both up whole. "Leap with me."

Imbuing all of his focus into his feet, he leapt towards the patrol craft, hoping that Inès would time her jump with him. With their combined momentum, Vossari landed feet first onto the patrol boat, planting his feet into one of the guards. The velocity of their kick sent him sailing, sailing, sailing, to the level below.

Hope he had a parachute!

That left a single Gamorrean, who surrendered immediately. Vossari left him on the billboard, before turning the controls of the craft over to Inès. They offered a fist to bump.

"Good looks." Their grin widened as they looked at the sky - some hours had passed since their initial meeting, yet Vossari felt no closer to solving the puzzle that was Inès. He had to know more. Hopefully, this shuttle ride could do that. "Yo, did you hear that Ness Neukin is opening a new installation today?" Vossari referred to a truly famous Trandoshan street artist from Nar Shadda. He had recently...gone corporate, selling his intricate works of art to the highest bidder. From the street art community, his transition was met with a mix of envy and rage; envy that they weren't as famous as him, rageful that they would 'sell out' so blatantly. "Wanna crash it?"

@lizziie

 

[Inès]

The two of them landed on the craft. Vossari got a good kick at one of the guards, and Inès cheekily waved goodbye as the gamorrean fell unceremoniously to his death. Not every splatter of red on Nar Shaddaa's streets came from spray paint. "Sucks to suck."

After the other one was left behind to brave the climb down, Vossari and Inès headed off. The twi'lek jumped into the driver's seat and immediately routed them above the usual traffic, giving them a full view of the city from a perspective she had hardly ever gotten the chance to see.

"Real?" Ness Naukin wasn't a name she hadn't bothered to follow since the dude had gone corporate. She had mixed feelings about him; none of them were positive ones. "Fuck yeah dude, let's blow that shit."

Unfortunately, they probably shouldn't actually like, blow it up. She'd have to reroute home, nab what she had, and then there was the whole mess of having to plant explosives and everything... But, that didn't mean they couldn't make a show of things. Inès spun them around and headed toward the site of the installation, scheming all the while.

Still, they'd have a bit until they arrived, even traveling by craft. So after Inès dipped back down into traffic and fell in line with the other vehicles, she glanced over at the Sith and studied them for a moment before she spoke.

"So you're Sith?" There was an unmistakable sparkle in her eye, though what for, Vossari could only guess at for now. "Are there more Sith, then, on Nar Shaddaa?"

@Fine Dining Set

 

[Vossari Khaldun]

Vossari laid back into the seat of the skiff as the twi'lek drove off into the splendrous evening. Puffing plumes of tobacco and herb smoke into traffic, Vossari took time to consider her question. Likely, the best move was to reveal as little as possible. But also, he relished the opportunity to explain the power of the Sith. To convert another to their worthy cause. Perhaps that was reason enough to speak?

"Yeah, I am Sith...just an acolyte, though." They didn't expect she knew what that meant outside of the vaguest idea. "Sith are everywhere." They answered matter-of-factly. They smiled, reminiscing on their journey from a young, untrained force sensitive to a student of Sith. The secret doors one had to find to get there, the fear and anxiety that led up to joining. They felt almost like a different person, gone from a mere delinquent into the galaxy's destined people.

"You said your dad was a sith? He ever train you?" Maybe he could bring a new recruit back to the academy. That would be a positive outcome, yeah? "You know, I've seen your pieces a lot over the years. You've really developed as an artist. What's your inspiration - do you plan on staying on Nar Shadda your whole life?" Being back brought back feelings of nostalgia, but part of them felt like their juvenile delinquency days would soon have to be behind them.

@lizziie