[font=arial" size="1] Despite his intentions, Rhailo’s words sank into Demagol deeply. A flush vortex of thoughts encompassed his mind and drew up more than half a dozen scenarios. One thing was painfully obvious, he didn’t have much time to ponder his choices where the both of them were currently standing. No, as said before, time was of the essence. At first, his actions were completely wordless as he took steps toward the Auroun. By ignoring the pain in his side he kept himself from limping, but it was inevitable that he was losing blood and energy. The line that Demagol gave Rhailo probably wasn’t as descriptive as she had liked, but in his eyes, it was enough for now. Enough for until they got out of the vicinity. “With me. The rest will be spoken of later.”
With that he holstered his WESTAR-35 and brought an arm around the female’s waist. There was a certain carefulness about the motion as the Mandalorian heaved her up over his shoulder. It could have rooted from a large number of reasons. Perhaps he simply was looking at her as a package and didn’t want to damage her when he turned her in. He knew of the S'zari and their workings, but had never given much thought as to what would happen when he turned this female over. At the same time, how could he feel sorry for a criminal? How could he show pity for someone who had caused so much bad that there was such a high price on their head? Demagol was conflicted. Was he saving a damsel? Or was he aiding a criminal? Maybe it was both. Even as he effortlessly carried the female out of the casino and to an open street the thoughts were still rushing about his head like rapids in a river. He guided her around a building that would obscure them from the roof of the casino. It would grant them safe passage to use the sky to their advantage. He must keep his strength up. His, no, both of their lives depended on it now. “Soar.”
The two of them flew upward toward the roof of an adjacent building, one taller than the casino in itself. Demagol’s landings had become softer than before because of the new subject he carried. This was for a multitude of reasons, one of which being that she wasn’t clad in Mandalorian Shocktrooper armor like he was. Why did Demagol come off so cold and robotic as he did? Because of shit like this. Because emotions had no place in a job. They made one second guess themselves and their objective. They coaxed one to put their own desires above the mission. To his very core, it was nature at work. He couldn’t help it. Something about this helpless damsel seemed to be worth saving. He had quite literally destroyed her life in his onslaught to catch her, though, that was his plan all along. But they had to stay low for now, those cannons on the rooftop were rather high caliber, high enough to punch holes through even Demagol’s armor. The situation might have been different were he wearing a heavysuit, but that’s not how he worked. For sake of speed, Demagol sacrificed near invulnerability.
The rooftop’s skirting was high enough to obscure most of their figures by itself. But they were still too close. He kept Rhailo upon his shoulder and crow hopped to another couple buildings farther away. Right now there was no immediate destination, only the desire to get out of the Roth Khaanian-controlled zone. Once they were out of such things would become much smoother. Time was ever-dwindling though, and those who followed up in the casino would see the cloth draped over Jaxisher Dynasty’s face. They would see the S'zari’s insignia. They would call for war, without question. It was quite the move on Demagol’s part, but he needed to do something to divert attention from himself and the Auroun he carried like a prize over his shoulder. He commanded this ship, all responsibilities ultimately fell upon his shoulders. Keeping the both of them alive wasn’t just a mission, it was a means of survival at this point. When the duo landed on a rooftop even higher and more obscured than the last the Mandalorian placed Rhailo on the ground in front of him.
“Your bounty was worth 50,000 credits to the S'zari. Jaxisher’s is worth over 250k. In reality, you are meager in comparison. A small tidbit to add to the profit I have made today.” Demagol’s voice didn’t sound outlandish, not even from behind that helmet which covered his head. He actually didn’t sound very alien at all. The voice actually sounded almost human. Any thoughts that stemmed from this were interrupted by the Mandalorian’s next words. “I could turn in this bounty of Jaxisher via a small port and instantaneously have enough money to get me countless worlds away from this place.” A moment of silence passed and Demagol peered over his shoulder, still not satisfied with where they were. They needed to get inside. The woman was quite literally almost naked. If he wasn’t careful she would suffer hypothermia. So he picked her up and took off again, this time skyrocketing the two of them toward a massive hotel complex. It was out of the Roth Khaanian zone and resided in a neutral area, probably hard to find for the most part on this terrible planet.
Ever so carefully Demagol landed the duo on a balcony on a floor about halfway up the building. The actual number of the floor was completely unknown, but the Mandalorian looked through the outer door to make sure the room was vacant. It was. Though the door was locked, something as simple as this would not deter the Mandalorian, who, quite literally, ripped the door open sideways. With a slight shove he moved Rhailo Destros into the unoccupied room and stepped in, forcibly closing the door behind himself. Steel grated against steel and proved the door would likely not open ever again for any regular being. The room was nothing extremely spectacular, but it was definitely multiple steps above what the female had been residing in beforehand. Lights were available. There was a chest for personal belongings. A single bed. A desk and a couple chairs adorned one of the corners. Now, to the injury which festered Demagol’s side. His suit seemed to have just about anything, but combat salve was an obvious need for any mission. After removing some from a compartment on his left bracer he exposed the torn flesh of his injured side and lathered it with the salve. A low, jaw-clenched growl omitted from the Mandalorian as the wound began to seal itself. After a few passing moments it was mended flesh. The placed it back in his bracer afterward.
“So, tell me, Auroun..” The Mandalorian turned sideways and reached upward toward his helmet, grasping upon the lower rim of it and speaking a couple words.
“Helmet, disengage.” A slight hissing noise emitted from mechanisms that synchronized helmet with suit, and in a tantalizingly slow manner Demagol removed the helmet from his head. What the female saw may have shocked her, but perhaps not in a bad way. Demagol was indeed human. Matted, 3-4 inch long black hair was reminiscent of a once kept comb-over. His skin was white, not quite as pale as the female’s, but only a little darker. His eyes were a dark blue, showing that they may have once been brighter in years passed. For the most part his face was unmarked, save for a scar which curved along his right cheek and traveled toward the top of his ear. His jawline was chiseled, overall facial structure giving him a handsome appearance that was more often than not lost behind the obscurity of that helmet he wore. With a light clunk he placed his helmet upon the nightstand upright and turned to face Rhailo Destros.
“I could buy out your contract here and now and you would be free of the S'zari, forever. However, that would make you my property, to do as I tell you. So you will pick. Either I drag you to the S'zari myself and turn you into them to be whatever they want you to be.. Or I don’t, and keep you for myself instead. It is obvious that complete freedom is no longer yours to bargain with anymore. The decision is yours. Now, choose.” He left the ending responsibility upon Rhailo. In reality, he had no ill intentions to do upon the Auroun. In reality it would have been absolute that the S'zari treated her worse. Afterall, they sent Him after her. No bad blood was between the two as far as he was concerned. It was just a job up to this point. But this, this would decide whether or not the job continued.
With that he holstered his WESTAR-35 and brought an arm around the female’s waist. There was a certain carefulness about the motion as the Mandalorian heaved her up over his shoulder. It could have rooted from a large number of reasons. Perhaps he simply was looking at her as a package and didn’t want to damage her when he turned her in. He knew of the S'zari and their workings, but had never given much thought as to what would happen when he turned this female over. At the same time, how could he feel sorry for a criminal? How could he show pity for someone who had caused so much bad that there was such a high price on their head? Demagol was conflicted. Was he saving a damsel? Or was he aiding a criminal? Maybe it was both. Even as he effortlessly carried the female out of the casino and to an open street the thoughts were still rushing about his head like rapids in a river. He guided her around a building that would obscure them from the roof of the casino. It would grant them safe passage to use the sky to their advantage. He must keep his strength up. His, no, both of their lives depended on it now. “Soar.”
The two of them flew upward toward the roof of an adjacent building, one taller than the casino in itself. Demagol’s landings had become softer than before because of the new subject he carried. This was for a multitude of reasons, one of which being that she wasn’t clad in Mandalorian Shocktrooper armor like he was. Why did Demagol come off so cold and robotic as he did? Because of shit like this. Because emotions had no place in a job. They made one second guess themselves and their objective. They coaxed one to put their own desires above the mission. To his very core, it was nature at work. He couldn’t help it. Something about this helpless damsel seemed to be worth saving. He had quite literally destroyed her life in his onslaught to catch her, though, that was his plan all along. But they had to stay low for now, those cannons on the rooftop were rather high caliber, high enough to punch holes through even Demagol’s armor. The situation might have been different were he wearing a heavysuit, but that’s not how he worked. For sake of speed, Demagol sacrificed near invulnerability.
The rooftop’s skirting was high enough to obscure most of their figures by itself. But they were still too close. He kept Rhailo upon his shoulder and crow hopped to another couple buildings farther away. Right now there was no immediate destination, only the desire to get out of the Roth Khaanian-controlled zone. Once they were out of such things would become much smoother. Time was ever-dwindling though, and those who followed up in the casino would see the cloth draped over Jaxisher Dynasty’s face. They would see the S'zari’s insignia. They would call for war, without question. It was quite the move on Demagol’s part, but he needed to do something to divert attention from himself and the Auroun he carried like a prize over his shoulder. He commanded this ship, all responsibilities ultimately fell upon his shoulders. Keeping the both of them alive wasn’t just a mission, it was a means of survival at this point. When the duo landed on a rooftop even higher and more obscured than the last the Mandalorian placed Rhailo on the ground in front of him.
“Your bounty was worth 50,000 credits to the S'zari. Jaxisher’s is worth over 250k. In reality, you are meager in comparison. A small tidbit to add to the profit I have made today.” Demagol’s voice didn’t sound outlandish, not even from behind that helmet which covered his head. He actually didn’t sound very alien at all. The voice actually sounded almost human. Any thoughts that stemmed from this were interrupted by the Mandalorian’s next words. “I could turn in this bounty of Jaxisher via a small port and instantaneously have enough money to get me countless worlds away from this place.” A moment of silence passed and Demagol peered over his shoulder, still not satisfied with where they were. They needed to get inside. The woman was quite literally almost naked. If he wasn’t careful she would suffer hypothermia. So he picked her up and took off again, this time skyrocketing the two of them toward a massive hotel complex. It was out of the Roth Khaanian zone and resided in a neutral area, probably hard to find for the most part on this terrible planet.
Ever so carefully Demagol landed the duo on a balcony on a floor about halfway up the building. The actual number of the floor was completely unknown, but the Mandalorian looked through the outer door to make sure the room was vacant. It was. Though the door was locked, something as simple as this would not deter the Mandalorian, who, quite literally, ripped the door open sideways. With a slight shove he moved Rhailo Destros into the unoccupied room and stepped in, forcibly closing the door behind himself. Steel grated against steel and proved the door would likely not open ever again for any regular being. The room was nothing extremely spectacular, but it was definitely multiple steps above what the female had been residing in beforehand. Lights were available. There was a chest for personal belongings. A single bed. A desk and a couple chairs adorned one of the corners. Now, to the injury which festered Demagol’s side. His suit seemed to have just about anything, but combat salve was an obvious need for any mission. After removing some from a compartment on his left bracer he exposed the torn flesh of his injured side and lathered it with the salve. A low, jaw-clenched growl omitted from the Mandalorian as the wound began to seal itself. After a few passing moments it was mended flesh. The placed it back in his bracer afterward.
“So, tell me, Auroun..” The Mandalorian turned sideways and reached upward toward his helmet, grasping upon the lower rim of it and speaking a couple words.
“Helmet, disengage.” A slight hissing noise emitted from mechanisms that synchronized helmet with suit, and in a tantalizingly slow manner Demagol removed the helmet from his head. What the female saw may have shocked her, but perhaps not in a bad way. Demagol was indeed human. Matted, 3-4 inch long black hair was reminiscent of a once kept comb-over. His skin was white, not quite as pale as the female’s, but only a little darker. His eyes were a dark blue, showing that they may have once been brighter in years passed. For the most part his face was unmarked, save for a scar which curved along his right cheek and traveled toward the top of his ear. His jawline was chiseled, overall facial structure giving him a handsome appearance that was more often than not lost behind the obscurity of that helmet he wore. With a light clunk he placed his helmet upon the nightstand upright and turned to face Rhailo Destros.
“I could buy out your contract here and now and you would be free of the S'zari, forever. However, that would make you my property, to do as I tell you. So you will pick. Either I drag you to the S'zari myself and turn you into them to be whatever they want you to be.. Or I don’t, and keep you for myself instead. It is obvious that complete freedom is no longer yours to bargain with anymore. The decision is yours. Now, choose.” He left the ending responsibility upon Rhailo. In reality, he had no ill intentions to do upon the Auroun. In reality it would have been absolute that the S'zari treated her worse. Afterall, they sent Him after her. No bad blood was between the two as far as he was concerned. It was just a job up to this point. But this, this would decide whether or not the job continued.
Forever?
Oh, my darling,
If only you could see what war has done to me.
Oh, my darling,
If only you could see what war has done to me.
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Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 11-03-2015, 04:27 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by deific - 11-03-2015, 04:30 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 11-03-2015, 04:38 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by deific - 11-03-2015, 04:40 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 11-03-2015, 04:41 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by deific - 11-03-2015, 04:42 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 11-03-2015, 04:44 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by deific - 11-03-2015, 04:46 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 11-03-2015, 04:47 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by deific - 11-03-2015, 04:49 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 11-03-2015, 04:50 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by deific - 11-03-2015, 04:52 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 11-03-2015, 04:52 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by deific - 11-03-2015, 04:54 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 11-03-2015, 04:55 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by deific - 11-03-2015, 04:56 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 11-03-2015, 04:58 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by deific - 11-03-2015, 04:59 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 11-03-2015, 05:00 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by deific - 11-03-2015, 05:01 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 11-03-2015, 05:02 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by deific - 11-03-2015, 05:03 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 11-03-2015, 05:03 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by deific - 11-03-2015, 05:04 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 11-03-2015, 05:05 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by deific - 11-03-2015, 05:07 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 11-03-2015, 05:07 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by deific - 11-03-2015, 05:09 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 11-03-2015, 05:10 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by deific - 11-03-2015, 05:13 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 11-03-2015, 05:13 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by deific - 11-03-2015, 05:15 AM
RE: Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 11-03-2015, 05:17 AM