10-20-2017, 08:28 PM
Tier 5, Coruscant. 11 AM.
This sucks, Stein mentally groaned at himself. Greg had informed him that this tier was the best for a hero to get some work done, but… Greg had to work! Damn responsibility!
Outfitted with micro dash cam rigged haphazardly to a sideways baseball cap’s bill, he was prowling the streets, recording via Bluetooth to the handy dandy Omni-phone in his pocket. The Hero was masked up again, with a new pair of shades, compliments of Greg’s boy. The goggles wrapped around his head on an eslatic band and he had pinned the band to the underside of the hat to keep it from sliding off. It was an odd combination, but it seemed to work well enough.
Stein stuck out like a sore thumb. Though his face was covered, like many possible ne’er do wells, his clothes were cleaner and more “higher tier,” a combination that many did not seem to have. Higher-tier clothing was ratty, while lower-tier was manufactured a bit more rugged. Longer lasting, not intended for style as much as purpose. In all honesty, he might be shopping down here, considering his profession. Longer lasting clothes would definitely benefit in the long run.
More than once, people moved away from him. No doubt he looked like one of the many gang members patrolling the streets. That was fine, for the moment. Fame was not his highest priority, so he’d happily blend into the crowd for the time being. It might even be to his advantage in the long run, considering what fame did back home.
Two hours… Two hours of walking around, peering into the dark alley ways actively looking for trouble… Crime seemed to be avoiding him. He knew that was not true, but it felt like it. That was pretty much how it wound up back home. Stein could not count the number of times he would walk up to a crime in progress and the perpetrator would just groan and leave. Why? There was just no point.
It was rounding our three, when something finally happened. It was not a crime, per say, more of an unwanted confrontation. Stein felt a slight tremor up his spine right before a hand landed upon his shoulder. He was turned about and brought face to face with a tall looking man with odd twin tentacles trailing from the top of his head down to his waist. The ruddy red skin and patchwork plastic-looking white armor gave him an odd appearance.
“I ain’t never seen you around, pipsqueak. Don’ know what gang yer in, but I think yer in th’ wrong place.” The hand upon his shoulder shifts to grab Stein’s neck, lifting slowly till the Hero’s feet was off the ground. “An’ I don’ take kinly ta record’n in my turf, ya see?” The gangster looks right into the camera as he reaches to grab it.
Stein lifted a hand into the camera’s view, blocking the gangster’s path to it. “I warn you, if you continue on this path, I’m going to defend myself.” The hand stopped for a moment and the red-tentacle-headed man laughed.
The twi’lek’s grip tightened around Stein’s neck. It seemed to have no effect on his captive. At least his expression seemed too stubborn to change. “Heh… Little boy, do you really think ya have what it takes to—“ His showboating was cut off by a sudden grunt. In the blink of an eye, the red-man was pushed backwards, his hand wrenched free of Stein’s neck.
After the Blink Shield, Stein’s hands instantly occupy themselves with two Palm Shields. The little glassy orbs hover above his hands, charging up. “Hello Youtube and welcome to a Point-of-View Heroing Adventure. Let’s get our shields ready!” He held his hands up, showing the palm shields as the orb shatters and reforms into the transparent barriers.
“Hey! You cocky little brat, you think you’re gonna walk away from this?” A swing and a miss; Stein did not even have to use the shields to evade the incoming strike. He could tell by the tingle up his spine, that even though the strike was slow it held power behind it. It was still rather wild… Poor guy was all about that brute strength.
Stein was almost an acrobat compared to this guy. They were pretty matched for speed, but this fellow was obviously just swinging for the fenses. All power, no control. Stein turned his head with every missed blow to watch the fists fly by him. “And this is why it’s very important to actually practice aim, not just power. This knuckle head is beating my dust to death. I mean, speed. Flurry of punches, but slow, and wild? I mean what am I, a brick wall?”
The Twi’lek roared. A powerful crawling seized Stein’s spine as the brute set his left foot and lifted his right in a powerful kick. He maneuvers the palm shields down to deflect the attack to his gut upward and with the mildest lean, the leg soured right over him. Sadly, the upward angle was not something the gangster expected. His grounded foot was no longer grounded, the weight of his attack carried him upwards. The Hero only needed the lightest sweep of his own leg to knock the steel toe boot of his enemy away from the solid floor below.
In a heap now, the red-toned man stared up at Stein, seething. “Why don’t you FIGHT ME?” His hands balled into fists, slamming against the alley’s cracked cemented ground.
“Do you think you could keep up? Maybe I should just use my killer move then?” Stein slowly brought the two Palm Shields together. His eyes closed and he began to hum a low, rumbling note.
“Wait, wait, I ain’t ready to die!” The hero smirked. Twice. “What do ya want? Name yer price, man, common!” The Twi’lek was downright pathetic, his imagination obviously running wild with him.
Stein’s hands parted, the shields remaining as they were before, though they seemed to shimmer a bit more now, purely visual effects, of course. “How about a little information? Know where any action is? Maybe a good drug deal or a little organized crime?”
Thick, hairless brows furrow. “What? Ya just want in on some action?”
“Something like that…”
For almost a solid minute the grounded man was considering his options. Stein took the time to look around the alley. It was pretty devoid of life for the moment, passersby on either end, but no one really walking through the gap with two, seemingly gang affiliated guys duking it out.
“I heard Berzek was selling at that ol’ mansion… Set up shop where he could live like a king, ya know? He’s been up there for a couple of hours by now…”
Absolutely perfect. “Directions, please…”
This sucks, Stein mentally groaned at himself. Greg had informed him that this tier was the best for a hero to get some work done, but… Greg had to work! Damn responsibility!
Outfitted with micro dash cam rigged haphazardly to a sideways baseball cap’s bill, he was prowling the streets, recording via Bluetooth to the handy dandy Omni-phone in his pocket. The Hero was masked up again, with a new pair of shades, compliments of Greg’s boy. The goggles wrapped around his head on an eslatic band and he had pinned the band to the underside of the hat to keep it from sliding off. It was an odd combination, but it seemed to work well enough.
Stein stuck out like a sore thumb. Though his face was covered, like many possible ne’er do wells, his clothes were cleaner and more “higher tier,” a combination that many did not seem to have. Higher-tier clothing was ratty, while lower-tier was manufactured a bit more rugged. Longer lasting, not intended for style as much as purpose. In all honesty, he might be shopping down here, considering his profession. Longer lasting clothes would definitely benefit in the long run.
More than once, people moved away from him. No doubt he looked like one of the many gang members patrolling the streets. That was fine, for the moment. Fame was not his highest priority, so he’d happily blend into the crowd for the time being. It might even be to his advantage in the long run, considering what fame did back home.
Two hours… Two hours of walking around, peering into the dark alley ways actively looking for trouble… Crime seemed to be avoiding him. He knew that was not true, but it felt like it. That was pretty much how it wound up back home. Stein could not count the number of times he would walk up to a crime in progress and the perpetrator would just groan and leave. Why? There was just no point.
It was rounding our three, when something finally happened. It was not a crime, per say, more of an unwanted confrontation. Stein felt a slight tremor up his spine right before a hand landed upon his shoulder. He was turned about and brought face to face with a tall looking man with odd twin tentacles trailing from the top of his head down to his waist. The ruddy red skin and patchwork plastic-looking white armor gave him an odd appearance.
“I ain’t never seen you around, pipsqueak. Don’ know what gang yer in, but I think yer in th’ wrong place.” The hand upon his shoulder shifts to grab Stein’s neck, lifting slowly till the Hero’s feet was off the ground. “An’ I don’ take kinly ta record’n in my turf, ya see?” The gangster looks right into the camera as he reaches to grab it.
Stein lifted a hand into the camera’s view, blocking the gangster’s path to it. “I warn you, if you continue on this path, I’m going to defend myself.” The hand stopped for a moment and the red-tentacle-headed man laughed.
The twi’lek’s grip tightened around Stein’s neck. It seemed to have no effect on his captive. At least his expression seemed too stubborn to change. “Heh… Little boy, do you really think ya have what it takes to—“ His showboating was cut off by a sudden grunt. In the blink of an eye, the red-man was pushed backwards, his hand wrenched free of Stein’s neck.
After the Blink Shield, Stein’s hands instantly occupy themselves with two Palm Shields. The little glassy orbs hover above his hands, charging up. “Hello Youtube and welcome to a Point-of-View Heroing Adventure. Let’s get our shields ready!” He held his hands up, showing the palm shields as the orb shatters and reforms into the transparent barriers.
“Hey! You cocky little brat, you think you’re gonna walk away from this?” A swing and a miss; Stein did not even have to use the shields to evade the incoming strike. He could tell by the tingle up his spine, that even though the strike was slow it held power behind it. It was still rather wild… Poor guy was all about that brute strength.
Stein was almost an acrobat compared to this guy. They were pretty matched for speed, but this fellow was obviously just swinging for the fenses. All power, no control. Stein turned his head with every missed blow to watch the fists fly by him. “And this is why it’s very important to actually practice aim, not just power. This knuckle head is beating my dust to death. I mean, speed. Flurry of punches, but slow, and wild? I mean what am I, a brick wall?”
The Twi’lek roared. A powerful crawling seized Stein’s spine as the brute set his left foot and lifted his right in a powerful kick. He maneuvers the palm shields down to deflect the attack to his gut upward and with the mildest lean, the leg soured right over him. Sadly, the upward angle was not something the gangster expected. His grounded foot was no longer grounded, the weight of his attack carried him upwards. The Hero only needed the lightest sweep of his own leg to knock the steel toe boot of his enemy away from the solid floor below.
In a heap now, the red-toned man stared up at Stein, seething. “Why don’t you FIGHT ME?” His hands balled into fists, slamming against the alley’s cracked cemented ground.
“Do you think you could keep up? Maybe I should just use my killer move then?” Stein slowly brought the two Palm Shields together. His eyes closed and he began to hum a low, rumbling note.
“Wait, wait, I ain’t ready to die!” The hero smirked. Twice. “What do ya want? Name yer price, man, common!” The Twi’lek was downright pathetic, his imagination obviously running wild with him.
Stein’s hands parted, the shields remaining as they were before, though they seemed to shimmer a bit more now, purely visual effects, of course. “How about a little information? Know where any action is? Maybe a good drug deal or a little organized crime?”
Thick, hairless brows furrow. “What? Ya just want in on some action?”
“Something like that…”
For almost a solid minute the grounded man was considering his options. Stein took the time to look around the alley. It was pretty devoid of life for the moment, passersby on either end, but no one really walking through the gap with two, seemingly gang affiliated guys duking it out.
“I heard Berzek was selling at that ol’ mansion… Set up shop where he could live like a king, ya know? He’s been up there for a couple of hours by now…”
Absolutely perfect. “Directions, please…”