Lurk intro thread

[Wisconsin Wookie]

Kirilo's choice of watering hole would leave most individuals scratching their heads and would likely even send them running in the other direction. The few windows that may at one time have allowed in some light, have long since been crusted over with smoke and grime. The placed wreaked of all the wrong things and the food wasn't any good. Even the name of establishment was enough to make the average citizen nautious: The Hutt's Hide.

The patrons at the Hide were all of the same varety: people you would not want to even talk to, much less meet them in a dark alley.

All of this is exactly what Lurk liked about the place. Nobody talked to him and he didn't have to talk to anybody either. Even the bartender kept his mouth shut. And so, with a death stick clinging to the left corner of his mouth and a half-gone bottle of booze on the table in front of him, Lurk enjoyed the quiet of his last day on leave; wondering what the Republic had in mind for him next, and trying to decide whether or not he cared. [/i]

[southpaw]

He made up his mind as the deathstick burned out: he really, really didn't care, as long as they paid him enough to get by. He'd seen how few creds were left on his last chip. Time to start conserving his rations.

He stoppered the bottle, shoved it in his sling bag. He flicked the butt at the back of the drunkard wrapped around the barstool and lit up as he shouldered his way to the door.

Last night of leave. He hated it. But then, he hated everything.

He stepped out into the tepid drizzle that pissed down on him. He couldn't even remember which planet he was on. Or rather, didn't want to remember. But then he always knew where to head for one last distraction. One last chance to forget himself for an hour before the Republic reminded him who he was.

[Wisconsin Wookie]

As he heads out into the Coruscant night (or was it morning? It was hard to tell at this low level), Lurk hangs a left and proceeds toward his destination. Though on vacation, he is a warrior through and through, and soon begins to realize that he has picked up a tail.

[southpaw]

That he could spot the figure following him for two blocks was something of a mild disappointment for Lurk; clearly the barman at the Hutt's Hide had been watering his booze, and Lurk wasn't as drunk as he'd hoped to be. Still, no need to let his tail know that.

He feigned a stagger as he took a corner, pushing his way through a gaggle of jabbering Hammerheads and stopped in an grubby alcove with a transperisteel pane that faced the Undercity street from where he came. He studied the faces of those who passed by; they kept their collars up and their hoods down, but his mechanical eye whirred to life and he saw their faces beneath the shadows: the faces of people who'd never seen the sky, never seen the stars with their own eyes. He scanned the reflections carefully, looking for a face that stood out in the despair, wondering who could be bothered tailing him.

Couldn't a scummer be left alone just for one night?

Search roll (4D+1D for eye): 2 1 3 6 5 : 17
Hide roll (3D+1): 3 4 5 : 12

[Wisconsin Wookie]

For the first few moments, Lurk wonders whether or not his feignt was for naught, as each passerby pays no heed to the mechanical Ubese hiding in the alcove. Just as he is about to resume his walk, around the corner turns the individual wearing the familiar coat and hat. The near-human scans the walk up ahead, trying to find his quarry.

[southpaw]

OOC: Familiar as in I'd seen the guy before this evening, or familiar as in the coat and hat is what I think the tail was wearing?

[Wisconsin Wookie]

OOC - what you think the tail was wearing

[southpaw]

Lurk watched the goon in the coat, pissed that the amateur had put a crimp in his evening. He could so easily give him the slip, then slide into those last hours of forgetting... but he could already feel it gnawing on his mind. He had to know who was following him, and why.

He sparked up a small flame at the end of his mechanical arm, fumbling with the crude prosthetics as he drew out another deathstick and lit it. Then he stepped out of the shadows, leaving smoke in his wake, and jabbed his arm cannon into the goon's back.

"Hey flyboy," he rasped. "Lookin' fer someone?"

Sneak check to move up on him without being spotted:
Sneak 3D+1 : 6 1 5 : 13 (and a 6 on the Wild Die if you're using them?)

[Wisconsin Wookie]

(ooc - I am using the wild die, and I will always assume the first one in your roll is the wild. If it's a six, go ahead and roll it again if you want and add it at the end. I rolled it again this time, and you happened to get another six!)

Lurk deftly sneaks around and comes in behind his would-be tracker. He jams his weapon into the near-human's back, who happens to let out a yelp. He throws up his hands and in a panicked voices stammers:
"D-d-don't shoot me. P-p-please don't sh-shoot...I don't want any trouble!"

[southpaw]

"Then you shouldn't be followin' me round, chummer," Lurk hissed. "Big mistake."

Lurk scanned the Undercity street, watching the 'pulsecars hover overhead, searching for security forces - and a dark, out-of-the-way alley more suitable for a proper chat.

"Yer lucky though, chummer. I'm feeling generous," he jabbed the goon's back once more, nudging him towards the shadows. "Talk and I'll let you walk."

Search (4D+1D eye) : 3 6 5 5 6 : 25

[Wisconsin Wookie]

Lurk does not notice any security forces and quickly spots a dark alley nearby. Lurk keeps his weapon well concealed and as he begins moving him torward the shadows, the guy falls to his knees and turns to Lurk, begging and pleading and talking really fast: "Please man, don't kill me, I don't even know what I'm doing here. S-s-some guy p-paid me a quick 100 to follow you around o-once you left that bar. I really needed the creds so I said sure. You want the money? You can have it. Here." In a panic, the man takes the money out of his pocket and thrusts it in Lurk's direction.

[southpaw]

Lurk pocketed the credstick then eyed the man thing. "Keep talkin', chummer," he spun the goon round and threw him against the wall, sticking the barrel of his arm cannon deep in the guy's neck. "Tell me everythin' you know bout who paid you. His name, what he looked like, where he was sittin' in the bar, when and where you were supposed to meet up with him and tell him what I was up to. Everythin'."

[southpaw]

OOC: I just realised that the whole "always-has-a-deathstick-in-his-mouth" schtick sorta makes the Ubese "must wear a breather apparatus in Type I Atmosphere or suffer -1D" kinda difficult.... but then I figured that technically deathsticks give off Type II Atmosphere pollution.... which would explain why he always has one in his mouth

[Wisconsin Wookie]

[Wisconsin Wookie]