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Post by Whill Shaman Kahul on Nov 10, 2020 8:45:56 GMT -8
An ancient JvS location temporarily brought back in remembrance of a friend.
The Boob. A place of ridiculousness. A place of shennanigans. A place of stupidity. A place of, some might call it, love. And that person wouldn't have been Villa. Inside the tables were adorned with fresh cucumbers, bottles of what one could assume were wine but probably shouldn't, and that lingering odour of Carni that was so comforting. It was dingy, yet well it at the same time, shadows flickering along the walls, as if to say....Well, I am not allowed to say what they would say........the floor boards creaked and moaned, much like Villa's Mum, and somewhere, off in the distance, if you were to listen very quietly, you could hear Az.....But don't listen too carefully, you will regret it.
There was a sign in bright pink neon flashing on the wall behind the bat that said Simply:
LOVRO.
-Erevis/Inky
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Lamia Bes'tial
The Vegemite Enclave
Posts: 66
Affiliation: VSE, The Vegemite Enclave
Traffic Light: Yellow
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Post by Lamia Bes'tial on Nov 10, 2020 9:09:48 GMT -8
Lamia stood outside of the door. A flood of memories filled her head as she thought back to her days as a young togruta. Her days under the tutelage of Sinistra and Flagg seemed so far away. She looked over at Riddick, their son. He was a spitting image of his late father, from his stance to the deep complicated look in his eyes. He carried himself proudly. He was strong, and agile and a gifted fighter. She was immensly proud of the man he had become.
"Are you ready to go in? I know this must be hard for you. You will meet a lot of people from our past today. Some will have fond memories of your father, some not so much. But one thing is for sure, he made an impact on everyone that knew him."
Lamia reached up and touched the sterling silver cucumber pendant that hung from her neck. A gift from Leto, She smiled to herself. On the outside, he was a brute. He was intimidating and brooding. But there were those moments, in private, when she saw a different side of him.
Lamia took a deep breath and pushed open the door. "Let's go Riddick. It's time to honor your father."
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Deadniquitous
Retired High Councilor
I AM THE LAW!! Wait.....wrong movie. Sorry.
Posts: 182
Affiliation: The Force
Traffic Light: Blue
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Post by Deadniquitous on Nov 10, 2020 11:12:48 GMT -8
Being dead was kind of boring. Being a force ghost was far more entertaining. He flickered in a booth, in a dark corner (all corners were dark here), silently contemplating everything around him. It 'felt' good to just sit. as far as he ever really could just sit anymore. One of the irritations of the Force being so fickle and not deciding what the hell it wanted to do with him..... The door swung open and in walked a semi familiar face. A Togruta. Lamia. Wife of Leto. His old friend. He sighed, his darkness flickering once as he stood. He walked over to the woman and her child, his signature all at once solid and incorporeal, his purple eyes glowing sadly
"Lams. It is a terrible thing that seems to be bringing us all together today. I am heart broken. And for me, that is a feat"
The odd timbre of his tri tone voice still echoed when he spoke. It seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere all at once. He looked her dead i nthe eyes as he spoke.
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Lord Nexus
The Vegemite Enclave
Posts: 174
Affiliation: Chaos
Traffic Light: Blue
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Post by Lord Nexus on Nov 10, 2020 11:50:13 GMT -8
His presence was heralded by his footsteps - heavy clomping echoed through the entry way as the Lord of Chaos entered the room. His armor was more ornate than usual- half hidden under a thick black cloak which hung over his shoulders-, though his helmet remained the same - wrought from the bones of the fallen. Darth Nexus entered the boob in a somber demeanor - a silent silhouette in mourning- yet his footsteps echoed. Slow, steady, akin to a march.
As he passed the threshold, he held a single hand out - one that was quickly filled by a cup of Kashyykk fire brandy. The sith removed his helmet, showing scars and age that did not match the fluidity of his movements. He noted his blood in the room by way of a force ghost, giving 'Deadniquitous' a solemn nod, before taking a dreg from his cup, only to pour the remains on the threshold of the boob in memory of their lost friend. He muttered something in ancient sith tongue, it sounded deep and reflective, though he merely said "Save some cukes for the rest of us in the Afterlife"
With that, the sith made his way towards Lamia and Riddick, giving them a solemn bow.
"May his deeds never be forgotten."
The sith looked towards Riddick, offering a small box which was initially concealed in his cloak - he gestured for the boy to take it, before looking at Lamia.
"A gift, in honor of the fallen."
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Post by Alkor Centaris on Nov 10, 2020 12:12:54 GMT -8
Few things could have brought together so many people from so many different walks in life.
One of the greatest mysteries of the Force was how it touched people, and through who. For Alkor, Leto Bes'tial was only a ripple; but a ripple had potential to reach far beyond the initial point of impact. They met for the first time in the courtyard of the Xendorian Citadel. Reign, Leto, and Alkor were sat talking and the elder Corellian had allowed a small amount of his vast ocean of rage to trickle out into the open. The topic of Corellia itself was taboo to both men, but for very different reasons. One loved his home, and the other felt only hate.
Both men had in common that it had been stolen from them.
Perhaps in another lifetime, he would have been able to know his fallen Brother in the Dark Jedi better. He still lamented that he knew so few of them well at all. He spied Iniquitous- the spirit of a man he had vowed to kill, now dead. It was never a hate that existed between them. There was only the grim duty to be done, and a man who had been made the target. Now that Inquitous existed beyond corporeal form, he felt no need to sling acerbic speech or draw his weapons. Instead, he nodded respectfully to a man who had at some point in his life been one of the strongest in the Galaxy.
In turn, he passed the Sith Lord Nexus, and finally stopped before Lamia and her son. The son of Leto Bes'tial, who had his father's face. He remembered crossing blades with the man, and the words of a man he once learned from echoed through eternity. Battle is a game of the mind. First to get in the other's head is the victor. Though stoic in his expression, Alkor felt compassion for both the woman who had lost someone dear, and the child who had lost his father.
He gave both of them a respectful bow.
"The Force once served him," he said quietly, "Now it has set him free. I am sorry for your loss."
With those words, Alkor moved away from the more crowded area of the Boob and back toward a seat where he promptly ordered a Cassandra Sunrise.
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Lamia Bes'tial
The Vegemite Enclave
Posts: 66
Affiliation: VSE, The Vegemite Enclave
Traffic Light: Yellow
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Post by Lamia Bes'tial on Nov 10, 2020 13:23:33 GMT -8
Lamia led Riddick into the bar... not even half a step in, the smell of motor oil and Villa's mum stung her nose. Riddick gagged a little. "Don't worry about it Muirnin, you will get used to it." She looked at the tables and chuckled to herself when she spotted the cukes. "And for the love of all that is holy, DO NOT say yes if someone asks if you want a cuke. Trust me."
In a booth just over to the side was her old friend Inquitous... well, er... the ghost of him. Lamia smiled at him and tipped her head. "Good to see you old friend. Yes, it was quite a shock. It's unfortunate that this is what is going to bring us together, but I'm happy you made it." She turned to make her way to the bar when the site of crusty thongs caught her eye. Riddick followed her gaze. "Ma... why on earth... " Lamia shook her head. "Mo chroi, I could explain it all to you, but it might be better to just experience it." Lamia turned to see a man she hadn't met before.
-"The Force served him, now it has set him free. I am sorry for your loss". Lamia nodded. "Thank you. Please, get a drink and stay for awhile. It will be just the party Leto would have wanted."
Lamia finally made her way to the bar and pulled two bottles of Manaan's best whiskey from the back.
"Riddick, it's time you learned about the VSE. But first, you will need this bottle. All of it."
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Lahash de Fortia
Member
Posts: 14
Affiliation: Xendorian Guard, Dark Jedi Order, Barsoomian Empire
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Post by Lahash de Fortia on Nov 10, 2020 13:54:19 GMT -8
It had been a long while since he'd breathed this air. Thyferra was a wet world, and the smell of life, and death, lingered here. Reflecting on the passing of time and it's unerring march, Lahash stepped over the threshold of the Boob. Opening himself up to the power of the Force felt like he'd finally breached the surface of a pool he didn't know he was drowning in. A deep rush of life filled him and he was aware of exactly who was within even as his eyes adjusted to the dim flashing pink light, as well as the usual low lights. A brief glance towards them, a few long strides to the bar, and he stood a meter off, holding a slightly smoking drink.
"Lightyears and heavy ones my friends."
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Syren
The Vegemite Enclave
Posts: 229
Traffic Light: Blue
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Post by Syren on Nov 10, 2020 17:07:18 GMT -8
*Avarath stumbled out of the jungle, a fowl nesting in the green of her hair and that edge of manic glee, ever present, in her golden eyes. She dusted the jungle fowl out of her hair and combed a few sticks as well. She still held the half bottle of Han Solo rum. She looked half victorious... then the train of thought re-railed and the half crazed Thallassan stumbled into the bar.
She caught sight of Lamia, the ghost of Villa's mum... No, that's not right. Avarath squinted at the Force projection. No idea who that guy is. And then, Leto...
She stumbled a bit, confused.*
"But I felt it..." *She mumbled as she approached Riddick. He looked so much like Leto, but no, this must be his son. Humans, they grew so fast only to be taken away just as quickly.
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Post by Reyn Skirata on Nov 10, 2020 17:23:11 GMT -8
The door to one of the most wretched hives of scum and villainy in the galaxy opened to admit the heavily armored figure on the other side. He moved in to the room, the door closing behind him, causing the hem of his forest green cape to wave ever so slightly in the displaced air. Baroque armor of dark red and chased silver enclosed a form a bit large and strangely proportioned for a human, and his head turned almost imperceptibly to take in all assembled through the t-shaped visor of the antique beskar mask that covered his face.
Many old faces indeed.
He continued his walk into the room, a case of tinkling glass under one arm, and large jugs tied to the ancient axe of bone he leaned on like a staff. He had walked battlefields that had seen less depravity than this place, but he walked easily and purposefully, as if inured by life long and thoroughly lived. He reached the bar and placed the case upon it, it's label marking it as "Ne'tra Gal b'Lehon", then carefully untied the jugs, marked with a caricature of a mandalorian helmet, the aurebesh characters spelling "Skirata's Own Tihaar, 180 proof. Kagaht'kranak special." He placed the ancient weapon he carried with such care and gravity upon the bar it was nearly palpable, then began to remove his helmet.
Long braided hair that bore the clear look of coal black gone to grey, fell below his shoulders, perfectly, despite the helmet he wore, as though his hair knew no other way to lay. He placed the helmet down next to the axe, and turned to look at all assembled, with eyes of piercing emerald set inside a weathered grey face, cranial ridges decorated with intricate tattoos, and a mien that spoke simultaneously of barbaric pride and savage strength, but also warmth and kindness equal to any man.
Te Goran Mand'alor, the Dragon of the North, the Scourge of Kad, Reyn Skirata, Alor Mando'kar, had come to pay respects.
"Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la"
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Kaine Australis
The Vegemite Enclave
Consuming Copious Coopers
Posts: 1,029
Affiliation: Vegemite and Mandalore
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Kaine Australis on Nov 10, 2020 17:40:15 GMT -8
The ambient background music changed noticeably as another visitor approached the main doors of the Giant Boob. The thumping of the drums preceded the entrance of Kaine alor Australis, former Mand'alor te Ramikad, the Old Boar of Myrkr, Field Marshal, and Grandfather.Kaine removed his helmet once he passed through the doorway, clipping the buy'ce to his belt and letting his blue eyes scan the room.He'd come to pay respects to one of the finest and toughest fighters he had ever faced in his sixty years of life, and his fourty plus years of armed combat. They had once faced one another in the semi finals of a tournament that was open to the greatest fighters in the entire galaxy, and though Kaine had lost that bout, he had gained a great deal of respect for his opponent.The Australis Alor made his way into the cantina, noticing the gathered notables who had likewise come to pay their own respects. He found a side table and produced his own flask of tihaar, from which he took a sip, and then raised it to the central bonfire. Not gone, merely marching far away. Kaine toasted the valiant dead.It was a hard thing to survive while those you cared for and respected passed on to the next life. You had to think they were up there, raising their drink down to you, as you raised yours to them. The way of the warrior was something that Mando'ade understood, but it also transcended cultures. Aruetii weren't all without honour, and that should always be respected.
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Post by Bedrovelse Hevn on Nov 10, 2020 22:40:46 GMT -8
The chirp of the data pad came as a surprise as he lie quietly in bed. He kept his comms quiet to all but a select few. His arm probes from the warmth of the furs to flip it from the stand towards his face. His eyes struggle to adjust to the piercing bright backlight after hours of lying awake in his dim personal chamber.
The pale sapphires crawl from left to right over the text in disbelief. A dream. Brain fog. Ignorant refusal. It didn’t process. It wouldn’t stick. He blinks fiercely, pinching himself, and tries again. The words stayed the same. Over and over he read them until they bled into wet inky smears. His face contorting in pain. His lungs seize a shallow breath that they refuse to release. His intestines grind with sickening pain. Teeth clench as the tremors of emotion quake systematically through his body.
‘Breathe!’
It comes out in a shuddering gasp. Control was their mantra. Their creed. One the fallen would have his brothers stand by. The grip of the biting cold came gnawing on his flesh as he rose from bed. A sensation that pales to what he feels inside. ‘I’ll be there.’ His fingers slowly peck in reply.
.....
Hevn never had the pleasure of visiting The Giant Boob before today. He pulls a thick cloud of smoke as deep into his lungs as he can muster before letting it crawl in spiraling wisps from his nostrils. The death sticks seemed to be the only thing keeping the shakes from his hands, the bounce from his foot, and despair from making a home in the hole left behind by the loss.
He feels no entitlement to the coursing feelings of anguish that left him so unsteady. There were so many who knew him better. Many who loved him more. They were on the other side of that cantina door. That realization brought his strides to a halt some distance from the entry. He watched for a time, frozen silently in place, as embers consumed the tobacco and ate painfully into fingertips that made no effort to flee the sensation of the sting. So many walks of life fluttering before his stupefied form. The web woven so vast and so strong between them all by that singular thread.
He was not alone in seeking to honor the man. The courage to rise to it just took some time to muster. His fingers slither into his pockets for another death stick. If the stories were true, this wasn’t the kind of establishment you needed to check your smoke at the door.
And by the force did it help him cope with the smell. The rank cloud of debauchery would’ve made him gag had he not saturated every taste bud and lung cell with resinous cancer. The tears blurred every other person in the room into smearing shadows as his gaze fixated on the glowing pink sign.
Lovro.
You were why I had to be the best. You were why I had to be a champion. Why I could not fail. It was my honor, and duty to uphold and maintain the glory of the Jen’jidai. The standard you set, was one I always sought to at the very least meet, and at best strive beyond. To prove to Reign I was worthy of following in your steps. To prove to everyone who went toe to toe in the arena with me that I could be one of you.
He ignored the blistering holler of a barkeep who was clearly in way over his head. The Old Guard had a zero tolerance policy when it came to sobriety. A full bottle of rum found its way to his free palm and he held it up in the pink light to bathe its glow upon his face.
For what else could fill a hole so deep and dark inside?
An ensemble of self humoring ghosts took it upon themselves to offer cukes the very moment the thought crossed his mind. After his thoughts bitterly suggest where they might stick them instead each poltergeist bounced happily away on their self satisfied vegan pogo sticks. A smile crept over his face in spite of them. His thumb tears over the cap of a the rum with force enough for it to jump to the ceiling.
Toasting the sign, he mutters. “May the warriors of Valhalla find you as witty and ill tempered as ever, brother.” A fitting memoriam to a warrior whose words could skald as fiercely as his lightsaber. He pulls from the bottle, letting fire pour over the grinding gears in his stomach.
“You were the only one who knew what my kriffing name meant.”
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Post by targus on Nov 11, 2020 1:12:48 GMT -8
With feet leading the way more than anything, a man walked down the road, seemingly in a drunk stupor. But this affliction was stronger than anything brewed or grown. This was the stupor of man lost out of time and who finds himself inhabiting a body that has seen better days.
Seeing a sign in the shape of a giant boob, he pauses and looks up, eyebrow raised quizzically. At first, knew not where he was or even who he was in fact, but he knew he should know this place.
Slowly coherent thought came back to him, like light seen through closed eye lids, insistent and penetrating.
He wished it didn't.
Rubbing a hand down a weary and time worn face that is hidden deep in the cowl of his hood, he sighs. He was at rest for so long and now he was called back. The call of duty and paying a debt is a call that echos deeply into the river of the Force. The call to remember.
The air was thick, heavy with power and will of beings better suited for stories and legends than congregating in a bar. Opening the door, he can taste...well things he would rather not identify too closely, but never the less, aroused him.
Making his way to the bar, his mind is elsewhere, back in time to when debauchery ruled the galaxy and people were not so quick to take offense. Ordering a drink, he leans aganst the counter and casts his minds eye back to the bond of brother hood that was the VSE.
The VSE were a mangy group of scum and degenerates that took in all as long as you could take it raw and then give it. People assumed that they were drunken convicts and could not carry a conversation let alone a lightsaber or fly a ship or command a war. Yet they proved people wrong and Leto was a big part of that.
Leto has a soul that is old and deep and quickly moved to passion and fury and hilarity. He lived the virtues we all strive for. Drunkenness with a healthy dose of impropriety and a bit of random murder. There were to many memories boiling up within him and he could feel his control wavering. Out of all the people, it could have been, this loss really took him by surprise.
'Fucker. It should have been Inky.
Tossing his drink back, he beckons the bar man over for a refill.
'Live in the Force and our thoughts brother, your weight has lifted.
Spinning in his stool, he turns and surveys the rest of the bar and how it is filling.
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Post by Reign on Nov 11, 2020 4:17:09 GMT -8
The door opens. A familiar figure walks through. Familiar to this establishment and many of its patrons, although it had been many years since he'd been seen, either here nor anywhere. But like the others, he had been called here, summoned by a higher calling to pay his deep and personal respects to his fallen comrade, his former apprentice, and his long-time friend. With a heavy heart, he heads to the bar, orders two drinks, and downs the first.
"It is better the live one day as a lion, than a thousand days as a lamb."
He takes a moment now, thinking about those words his old friend once said, before downing the second drink and continuing
"Well old boy, you certainly did that. I just wish you could have had ten thousand more. Rest in peace brother."
He sighs and shakes his head, looking down. All the wishing in the world couldn't change this, and all the good intentions in the galaxy couldn't reach back through time to say the words he should have. But he could, in the end, at least do this - remember. And looking around the bar, he could see he was not the only one. The mark of the man Lovro had been had brought out quite the ensemble. As he stares around the room, each face brings back memories, and emotions that threaten to break his facade....
Reign orders two more drinks. If this were to be a send-off, it would be one worthy of the man.
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Ishmael
Member
Posts: 134
Affiliation: The Way of Lapay
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Post by Ishmael on Nov 11, 2020 8:05:22 GMT -8
*I entered the Boob without preamble or announcement, heralded only by the rustling of threadbare robes and the steady clunk of my wooden staff on the cantina's floor. The Quixoni crystal at its peak gleamed with vicious light, reacting, I suppose, to the veritable of maelstrom of power I'd entered.*
*I let my amber gaze peruse those who preceded me, lingering briefly on those I knew, and even more briefly on those I did not, before spotting a table yet unoccupied.*
*I fell heavily into one of the chairs, weary in a way both melancholy and indescribable, yet unable to resist a smile as I caught sight of a cucumber laying atop the table.*
*It's funny, isn't it, how a simple visual cue can flood the mind with memories long thought forgotten? 'VSE,' I mused fondly.*
*Leto was an enigmatic figure to those who knew him well; to me he was a bonified mystery. I was not privy to any inner circle of his, nor do I imagine he would recognize my face. Yet the passing of such a powerful duelist and insightful philosopher had stirred something within me I'd thought long dead. Buried somewhere deep beneath cynicism and arrogance, a spark of what once was.*
*Clutching the nearest mug of liquor in pale fingers, I raised it to my nose in suspicion. Sniffed. Shrugged, and lifted it higher.*[/color][/ul][/ul] *My words were little more than a murmur, directed at no one. I drank.*
*I remembered.*
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Lamia Bes'tial
The Vegemite Enclave
Posts: 66
Affiliation: VSE, The Vegemite Enclave
Traffic Light: Yellow
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Post by Lamia Bes'tial on Nov 11, 2020 13:18:57 GMT -8
Lamia took two glasses and filled them for her and her son. She took a long draw off the whiskey and let the warmth spread through her like the memories from this place. She looked at Riddick and smiled. He was his father. She inhaled slowly, took another drink and set it down.
"Muirnin, look at these people. Some of them didn't know your father very well... but they all knew of him. He was a legendary fighter, as you will be. He taught you everything he knew; and you took to it like a duck to water. They are here because, as complicated as Leto could be, he was well respected." Lamia paused and scanned the room. Familiar faces were starting to fill The Giant Boob.
"I remember the day I met your father.... there was a man called ATD. Bigger than life. Couldn't understand a fracking thing that came out of his mouth. He was married to my first master, Sinistra. He needed an escort to a wedding, and asked me to attend. It was the first time I had been in a crowd that I wasn't trying to rob. The wedding was ridiculous and absurd. The groom, Carnifex, was Leto's best friend. That's the first time I laid eyes on your father... and wanted nothing to do with him. Actually I think we ended up pulling weapons on each other. I was pretty untrusting of others. I figured he was not sincere. But he kept coming around, for days and weeks after that wedding. We fought fiercely. But we also had each other's back."
Lamia's voice trailed off as she let her mind travel back to a time many moons ago... to that ridiculous spectacle of a wedding, the fight they had that very first night and the chaos that embraced them for many years after that. It wasn't perfect, but it was them.
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Deadniquitous
Retired High Councilor
I AM THE LAW!! Wait.....wrong movie. Sorry.
Posts: 182
Affiliation: The Force
Traffic Light: Blue
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Post by Deadniquitous on Nov 11, 2020 19:49:02 GMT -8
He floated/walked away from Lamia with a nod and wandered to the bar. Leaning his frame..well, as much as a ghost could lean, against the bar and held out his hand. Instantly the greatest GM in the history of JvS's 13 years appeared. The EPBOW. Or Ever Present Bottle of Whiskey. A plot device, a force creation, our intrepid writers insane drinking habits from back in the day....Whenever there was a drink needed, it was there. Always full. Easy to find. He thumped it on the counter loudly, motioning for Reyn, Nexus, the other Reign, Targus, Alkor, Hevn and Kaine to join him. Old School Royalty of DJO, VSE, Mando's, the GBA, countless arguments, ridiculous friendships and some of the best stories told, all in one place. Brought together for the first time in probably 5 years or more by the unfortunate passing of their mutual friend.
You're not crying. I'm crying.
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Adi
Crew of the Wayward Son
Posts: 1,108
Affiliation: Crew of the Wayward Son
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Adi on Nov 12, 2020 5:28:17 GMT -8
Well now, this was disturbing news.
A day or so ago, Adi had received word that a former compatriot, one of the finest fighters he had ever known, had fallen. There was only one thing to do...find out where Iniquitous was. Matango knew not if the old man was alive or dead, but that mattered little. There would be no way that the Faceless Lord would miss this one. It took little effort, as the tracer chip placed in the left arm of the warrior was still somehow active. Finding his way from the small hovel he was currently residing on some backwater planet, he had made his way to a place called The Giant Boob.
Looking around, there were faces he remembered, some he did not. His memory wasn't that good lately, however....copious amounts of Endorian Endo do that to a person. He could have very well known every single person in here...In fact, he more than likely did. But that was a long time ago....and a LOT of pot ago. He did, however, remember the man who ripped his arm off, and used it to wipe his ass...Carnifex.
It was then he began to remember more. Each of these individuals were part of an old guard....a group long-thought split among the stars. Alkor Centaris, the technical fighter...William Reign, the one to end Adieumus' unlikely run at the finals of the second tournament....Kaine Australis, a thorn in Matango's side for almost the entirety of his time on Honoghr....Reyn Skirata, the finest smith ever known in the universe, and a dear friend....Bedrovelse Hevn, Siren, Lahash DeFortia, Lamia, even Lord Nexus.....
So many faces from the past were here. Good and bad, dark and light, and everything in between. Some here had been enemies, others friends and allies....but today they were here for very different reasons....reasons that insisted on candor, and a calm heart. They were all here for the same reason, and that reason demanded that all past animosity be put to rest. Most here had known him during his tenure as a Jedi master. They might not even recognize the man that had just entered the establishment anymore. But, through the haze of Endo resin in his brain, the memories came flooding back of his time in this corner of the universe. For so long, all that Adieumus wanted to do was forget. Now? He did all he could to remember.
He made his way to the bar, not pulling the black hood from his head as he approached Inky. Snatching the bottle from the old darksider's hand, he grabbed shot glasses, and began to pour for everyone surrounding them. Using a touch of the force, Adi carefully gave each one present a shot of the amber colored liquor. It didn't matter that a lot of these people were former enemies...today? They were one united force. Raising his glass, he flipped his hood back, smiling broadly at Iniquitous.
"I raise this toast to friends, and enemies...both still in this world, and those that are no longer with us. May we all find comfort in this reunion, and solace in each other's presence.
To Leto! May he forever rest in the embrace of the Force, and find peace in the beyond. You will be sorely missed, old friend."
Waiting only a moment for the others to follow suit in the raising of glasses, he slammed back his shot, wincing as the GMed whiskey burned its way down his throat. He never did acquire a taste for the stuff, but as it was what seemed to be very readily available, it didn't matter. It was time to celebrate a life cut short far too soon, and celebrate he would.
The finest "Janitor" that the Battle Arena had ever seen deserved every bit of this celebration...and so much more. He had touched so many lives, helped so many that were floundering, given advice that was life-changing, and bitched at those that dared rile him. Adi had not known him as well as he would have liked, but from the little exposure he had to the man, the Arkanian knew one thing...there was no one who was more deserving of a long, happy life....
And yet, the Force had seen fit to take him from the world. The force working in mysterious ways or not, it was a tragedy that he hoped never befell anyone else here anytime in the next lifetime. Each and every single one here had saved Adieumus in one way or another....enemies and friends alike.....and Leto had been a massive influence in his career in the Battle Arena. In his heart, Adi truly hoped that there was peace and happiness in the beyond for him.
It was what someone as amazing as Leto Bestial...Nay, Lovro.....deserved above all.
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Lord Nexus
The Vegemite Enclave
Posts: 174
Affiliation: Chaos
Traffic Light: Blue
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Post by Lord Nexus on Nov 12, 2020 6:10:49 GMT -8
Silence and intimacy shifted to bedlam as the Giant Boob quickly filled with those who sought to pay their respects. To the untrained eye, this bar was a disaster waiting to happen as Mandalorians, Sith, Jen'Jidai and Jedi alike filled the room. Yet there was no tension - this place had become a sacred ground, held with respect and reverence - here, past rivalries and fueds were bygone thoughts, as allegiances and vendettas were left at the door.
The Sith loomed in the room, looking upon many faces that he had not seen for decades. He saw both Reyn and Kaine - giving them a nod of respect, as distant but admired acquaintances. Then he saw Reign, Lahash, Hevn and Targus one who had been his brother in arms from a bygone era - one where Nexus was a notorious war monger with hot blood and an insatiable appetite for warfare. Finally he saw Adi - one who he had a strained relationship, where they would often find one another on opposing sides on the fields of War. To him, Nexus said nothing - he was slow to trust, and while The Dark Tide ended allying with Adi, Nexus was ever weary.
Seeing the specter of his uncle summoning him, Nexus made his way to the bar. Leaning against the bar, Nexus scanned the specter with his cold blue eyes for a few minutes before his lips curled into a sly smile.
"Glad to see your 'retirement' didn't stop you from saying farewell. How fares the abyss?"
Nexus set his bottle down on the bottle, summoning for a glass. Filling it with his noteworthy preference of spirits, often referred to as Wookie paint peeler, the sith brought the glass to his lips, taking a large drag before letting out a sigh as the burning sensation went through him. He turned to note each toast by raising a glass in honor of the fallen.
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Lord Sinistra
Retired High Councilor
VE Human Capital Management & Talent Acquisition
Posts: 1,474
Affiliation: The Vegemite Enclave
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Lord Sinistra on Nov 12, 2020 8:09:06 GMT -8
From some distance across the open land outside the Giant Boob, a procession made its way towards the storied bar. The members of the procession couldn't be picked out clearly but what could be discerned from across the divide was the sound of ...jazz. Bright notes of brass instruments carried over the plains, as the revelers danced their way towards the bar, leading a barge of drunken men and women dressed in gothic black with lace umbrellas and spikes on their neck collars.
The peculiar tradition known to some as a New Orleans second line had come to play Lovro to his eternal rest the only way they knew how, with drink, dance and revelery in the streets. A life ended celebrated for the impact and reach it had on others they had touched. At the back of the barge, Sinistra sat sipping a whiskey, her foot tapping along with the beats of an old Southern jazz cover of a gospel tune.
The procession took over the parking lot, the grounds and streets outside the boob, the music and singing lifting the spirits of any who might hear them and surely some had to because there were enough brass outside to wake the bones of the Earth.
With a sigh, she slammed the last of her glass, and rose a little woobly to her feet as the barge stopped. She had cleaned up for the occasion, wearing a neat lavender and grey long coat over a black silk blouse and grey slacks. Her heels were conservative, but polished to a shine to complete the ensemble. Her neckline head a bright purple crystal on a cord and her ears dripped cut amethyst earrings that flashed in the dim lights. Her long salt and pepper hair hung loose and nearly to her waist.
She stepped lightly off the barge and headed for the door of the Boob, pausing at the door for a breath before she entered the room. It was just as she had imagined, right down to the smell. So many familiar faces. So many of them forlorn and in pain. Every stripe of them morally grey to the blackest of hearts. And yet, still touched by the same man who would pick a fight with any of them over this particular spectacle.
Sinistra walked over to the bar and grabbed a bottle of whiskey and headed to Lamia.
"Howdy there Maddox. May his fire burn brightly through chaos and remind us of our duty to live."
She tipped her head in respect to the boy by the togruta's side.
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Post by House of D'Ordinii on Nov 12, 2020 9:04:49 GMT -8
A crystal orb rolled into the bar from a direction that couldn't quiet be placed. As it had to break rules of both time & space to reach this place. As it rolled through the doors of the bar before they could swing shut, it bounced into the air as if it had been kicked. The holographic gatekeeper of the orb appeared, caught it & solidified into a truly physical structure.
He had been old, once, but now he looked young & fit again. Clad once more in the heavy black & red plates he had worn in his days serving the Mandalorian Empire. He had come not to wage war though, but to pay respects to a foe that had stood on opposite him. They had never met in person. But many times they had passed like warships in the dead of night.
-Z'har Ijaa kyrayc ka'ra!
There were already several here that Z'har knew more personally. Lord Sin a powerful if distant foe. Iniquitous who he had fought in places that didn't exist. Kaine, a sort of rival, but also a bit of a friend. Though his daughter thought far less of the old mando. Reyn, the old master that taught him smithing. So many others, some familiar, others not. All here for the same reason.
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