Arik Illian
Nov 18th, 2002, 11:23:10 AM
This thread is an introduction of a new face in the Star Wars Universe. Please, feel free to leave feedback or anything other comments you would like to make. Have a great day! :D
It was a strange night altogether. The darkness of Coruscant gave way to a soaking rain, which was rather fierce. Sub-levels hardly ever saw this kind of rainfall past the high rises of the upper-level skyscrapers. The fat rain drops drenched the broken streets and tired people with a sad exhaustion in their fall. Children--though it was night--played out in the street, as rain was a rare occurance. Nevertheless, Coruscant carried on with normal business as the city-planet always did.
As one would understand, all business on Coruscant was not normal, however. The streets were filled with black markets and dirty dealings. This night was no exception. The back alleys and sidestreets flourished with different kinds of sales and services rendered. Among them was a dark man, like any other. His long sweeping cloak wrapped around his body as the winds of the small storm gently threw the cloth around him. His collar stretched up to envelop his neck so that all that could be seen was the glow of his eyes through a dark mask. The man was tall and well-built, as was evident by the tight body suit worn underneath the cloak. It hugged his muscular physique that twisted and contorted with each step.
Coming to the corner, he had been there before. He stopped pausing to scan the scene. Sighting his target, he approached with heavy footsteps. The other man stood, clutching his jacket tightly in the icy wind. Approaching him, he lowered his head to meet him eye-to-eye, dwarfing the other by almost a foot.
"Well?" The cold, short man spoke. He was very uncomfortable and impatient. His eyes almost quivered as he spoke, a sign of his nervousness. "Did you get him?"
"Yes." The tall, dark man spoke, his eyes unchanging. "He is detained." Reaching his hand out from behind his cloak, he produced a small clump of hair. Outstretching his hand to meet the other's, he let go of the lock into his hand. "Proof. Come."
Leading him through a maze of alleys and catwalks, the pair eventually came to an even more secluded corner. Tied to a pipe by flexiplastic wire, a young man was held captive. The masked man turned to the other. Quickly, the man pulled from his pocket a bundle of credits--200 or so. He looked at the masked man one last time and then turned to the captive.
"Well, it looks like I finally found you." The man spoke, cracking his knuckles and advancing towards the boy. He reached into a pocket, pulling out what appeared to be some type of hard knuckles.
"Rosco, hey! I was just coming to see you to give you that payment I--"
"Shut up!" The boy attempted to waste time before the imminent threat, but he knew what was coming. "You've run me around long enough, boy." With little hesitation, he unleashed a few punches to the stomach of the boy. Crying out in pain, the boy looked at the mask man. The white eyes met with the now teary ones of the boy. For a moment, they softened.
Quickly, he turned his head away. Business was business. Do not attach yourselt to anything or anyone, because as soon as you do, they will become your weakness. Turning to face the wall of the nearest building, he dug a handful of sharp claws into its surface, climbing swiftly to the top, cat-like.
"Wait!" Rosco turned away from his pummeling for a sigle moment. "You did a good job, kid. How could someone like me get a hold of someone like you for future business? What's your name?" His eyes looked towards the figure that stood strong atop the ledge.
"I am a shadow. I have no name." He then turned, disappearing into the shadows that engulfed the night. From there, he crouched examining the city rooftops. He jumped to several other rooftops, quickly running across the tops of the buildings.
Who was he? Did he even know anymore? Six years ago, he had been a happy, twleve year old boy. He had parents, a sister, a pet boonta. He was in school, he had friends, a life. He was so happy. Now what did he have?
Nothing. Just the shadows.
Such was fate. Little could be done to change it, only to adapt to it. He had lost and all, and he would adapt. The past six years he spent training for this survival. It was all part of his life, his destiny. He moved on from planet to planet, searchig for work to survive on. Perhaps one day, when he had ammassed the necessary funds, he would settle down. Somewhere quiet. For now, though this was his life. He was young, fresh, inexperienced. But he was eager to learn. The life. The trade.
He was Arik Illian, Bounty Hunter.
It was a strange night altogether. The darkness of Coruscant gave way to a soaking rain, which was rather fierce. Sub-levels hardly ever saw this kind of rainfall past the high rises of the upper-level skyscrapers. The fat rain drops drenched the broken streets and tired people with a sad exhaustion in their fall. Children--though it was night--played out in the street, as rain was a rare occurance. Nevertheless, Coruscant carried on with normal business as the city-planet always did.
As one would understand, all business on Coruscant was not normal, however. The streets were filled with black markets and dirty dealings. This night was no exception. The back alleys and sidestreets flourished with different kinds of sales and services rendered. Among them was a dark man, like any other. His long sweeping cloak wrapped around his body as the winds of the small storm gently threw the cloth around him. His collar stretched up to envelop his neck so that all that could be seen was the glow of his eyes through a dark mask. The man was tall and well-built, as was evident by the tight body suit worn underneath the cloak. It hugged his muscular physique that twisted and contorted with each step.
Coming to the corner, he had been there before. He stopped pausing to scan the scene. Sighting his target, he approached with heavy footsteps. The other man stood, clutching his jacket tightly in the icy wind. Approaching him, he lowered his head to meet him eye-to-eye, dwarfing the other by almost a foot.
"Well?" The cold, short man spoke. He was very uncomfortable and impatient. His eyes almost quivered as he spoke, a sign of his nervousness. "Did you get him?"
"Yes." The tall, dark man spoke, his eyes unchanging. "He is detained." Reaching his hand out from behind his cloak, he produced a small clump of hair. Outstretching his hand to meet the other's, he let go of the lock into his hand. "Proof. Come."
Leading him through a maze of alleys and catwalks, the pair eventually came to an even more secluded corner. Tied to a pipe by flexiplastic wire, a young man was held captive. The masked man turned to the other. Quickly, the man pulled from his pocket a bundle of credits--200 or so. He looked at the masked man one last time and then turned to the captive.
"Well, it looks like I finally found you." The man spoke, cracking his knuckles and advancing towards the boy. He reached into a pocket, pulling out what appeared to be some type of hard knuckles.
"Rosco, hey! I was just coming to see you to give you that payment I--"
"Shut up!" The boy attempted to waste time before the imminent threat, but he knew what was coming. "You've run me around long enough, boy." With little hesitation, he unleashed a few punches to the stomach of the boy. Crying out in pain, the boy looked at the mask man. The white eyes met with the now teary ones of the boy. For a moment, they softened.
Quickly, he turned his head away. Business was business. Do not attach yourselt to anything or anyone, because as soon as you do, they will become your weakness. Turning to face the wall of the nearest building, he dug a handful of sharp claws into its surface, climbing swiftly to the top, cat-like.
"Wait!" Rosco turned away from his pummeling for a sigle moment. "You did a good job, kid. How could someone like me get a hold of someone like you for future business? What's your name?" His eyes looked towards the figure that stood strong atop the ledge.
"I am a shadow. I have no name." He then turned, disappearing into the shadows that engulfed the night. From there, he crouched examining the city rooftops. He jumped to several other rooftops, quickly running across the tops of the buildings.
Who was he? Did he even know anymore? Six years ago, he had been a happy, twleve year old boy. He had parents, a sister, a pet boonta. He was in school, he had friends, a life. He was so happy. Now what did he have?
Nothing. Just the shadows.
Such was fate. Little could be done to change it, only to adapt to it. He had lost and all, and he would adapt. The past six years he spent training for this survival. It was all part of his life, his destiny. He moved on from planet to planet, searchig for work to survive on. Perhaps one day, when he had ammassed the necessary funds, he would settle down. Somewhere quiet. For now, though this was his life. He was young, fresh, inexperienced. But he was eager to learn. The life. The trade.
He was Arik Illian, Bounty Hunter.