05-29-2017, 10:41 AM
If there was anything that Kuzuru was, and he was many things, punctual would be it. He never much cared for or understood the desire to be fashionably late or the urge to procrastinate, especially when it came to something he truly enjoyed. Just as he never understood the allure to showing up unreasonably early, to him either extreme seemed unnecessarily rude. So when he arrived in Coruscant with time to spare it was this reason above all others that he didn’t head straight to Luci’s abode. Not that he wasn’t excited for their upcoming “date”, far from it, but when one was in the business of hunting heads one would be foolish to trade human politeness for overeagerness. Besides Coruscant intrigued him and this gave him a proper excuse to explore the crown jewel of the Empire.
Tier One, however, turned his gut over. One massive tourist trap covered in a sterile shell of authority and regulation. How boring. Tier Two wasn’t much better, though it did lack some of the pretentious nature that its big brother had. Tier Three and Tier Four was where the demon began to feel more comfortable. Big brother’s omnipresence began to dissolve and give way to the seedy eye of gangs and other miscreants. Sex, drugs, and a dissolution of human morality was on sale here, and baby, people were buying. As much as the demon would have loved to poke his nose around, his mark was deeper yet. Tier Five was his favorite yet, keeping the questionable ethics of Tier Four, but forgoing the wealth. Violence was in the air and it was positively electric.
Kuzuru sniffed the air and grinned. This was the kind of humanity that got his rocks off. Those living so close to their true nature. They fight and they fuck and they live life to a more visceral degree than their posh counterparts. For a long while the demon simply wandered about, blending into his environment and observing with reserved excitement. Something subconscious pinged at him and forced him to stop. His eyes were drawn to a couple of punks. It was hard not to notice them they were skeezy peacocks decked head to toe in bright colors and sparkling metal. Kuzuru posted up across the street from them and leaned against a graffiti covered wall.
They turned into an alleyway and sparked up. For a while they stood there talking and making frantic motions with their hands. They’d glance over at Kuzuru and he’d pretend to not notice them. After a bit Kuzuru noticed a well dressed man walking down the street. The man was carrying a battered suitcase and looked to be rather haggard. As he passed the alleyway the two punks stepped out and blocked his path. After a few seconds of heated arguing a switchblade flashed into existence and found its home pressed against the business man’s throat. The other punk ripped the suitcase from his hand and the duo bolted. They didn’t make it far. The suit reached inside his blazer and drew a chrome-plated handgun. He fired without hesitation, striking both punks in the back with a series of shots. It took a few moments for the sudden shock and bloodloss to do the trick, but they went down before the man holstered his gun. Kuzuru watched as the man grabbed his suitcase, searched the ground for bullet cases, grabbed them, and dipped out.
“What a great appetizer,” Kuzuru smiled to himself and checked the time.
It took him the better part of an hour to arrive. He chose to walk, partially because traffic was shit, and partially because he hoped to see more acts of random violence. Much to his disappointment he saw little else worth seeing. Tier Five was punctuated with bright and colorful acts of violence, but the space between the brutality was a grey and mundane experience. The place looked rather unassuming. It certainly wasn’t a fortress carved into the side of a mountain, but rather the sort of depressed looking structure that one would expect of a rough city. However there was a splash of life to be found in the smattering of spray-painted graffiti and art that covered its otherwise muted walls. The demon adjusted his hoodie and ran a hand through his hair. He popped a mint and knocked on the front door.
“Anyone home?!” he shouted with a sheen of sarcasm, “your order of one badass bounty hunter has arrived in the flesh, better hurry up, he’d be disappointed if you kept him waiting too long!”
Tier One, however, turned his gut over. One massive tourist trap covered in a sterile shell of authority and regulation. How boring. Tier Two wasn’t much better, though it did lack some of the pretentious nature that its big brother had. Tier Three and Tier Four was where the demon began to feel more comfortable. Big brother’s omnipresence began to dissolve and give way to the seedy eye of gangs and other miscreants. Sex, drugs, and a dissolution of human morality was on sale here, and baby, people were buying. As much as the demon would have loved to poke his nose around, his mark was deeper yet. Tier Five was his favorite yet, keeping the questionable ethics of Tier Four, but forgoing the wealth. Violence was in the air and it was positively electric.
Kuzuru sniffed the air and grinned. This was the kind of humanity that got his rocks off. Those living so close to their true nature. They fight and they fuck and they live life to a more visceral degree than their posh counterparts. For a long while the demon simply wandered about, blending into his environment and observing with reserved excitement. Something subconscious pinged at him and forced him to stop. His eyes were drawn to a couple of punks. It was hard not to notice them they were skeezy peacocks decked head to toe in bright colors and sparkling metal. Kuzuru posted up across the street from them and leaned against a graffiti covered wall.
They turned into an alleyway and sparked up. For a while they stood there talking and making frantic motions with their hands. They’d glance over at Kuzuru and he’d pretend to not notice them. After a bit Kuzuru noticed a well dressed man walking down the street. The man was carrying a battered suitcase and looked to be rather haggard. As he passed the alleyway the two punks stepped out and blocked his path. After a few seconds of heated arguing a switchblade flashed into existence and found its home pressed against the business man’s throat. The other punk ripped the suitcase from his hand and the duo bolted. They didn’t make it far. The suit reached inside his blazer and drew a chrome-plated handgun. He fired without hesitation, striking both punks in the back with a series of shots. It took a few moments for the sudden shock and bloodloss to do the trick, but they went down before the man holstered his gun. Kuzuru watched as the man grabbed his suitcase, searched the ground for bullet cases, grabbed them, and dipped out.
“What a great appetizer,” Kuzuru smiled to himself and checked the time.
It took him the better part of an hour to arrive. He chose to walk, partially because traffic was shit, and partially because he hoped to see more acts of random violence. Much to his disappointment he saw little else worth seeing. Tier Five was punctuated with bright and colorful acts of violence, but the space between the brutality was a grey and mundane experience. The place looked rather unassuming. It certainly wasn’t a fortress carved into the side of a mountain, but rather the sort of depressed looking structure that one would expect of a rough city. However there was a splash of life to be found in the smattering of spray-painted graffiti and art that covered its otherwise muted walls. The demon adjusted his hoodie and ran a hand through his hair. He popped a mint and knocked on the front door.
“Anyone home?!” he shouted with a sheen of sarcasm, “your order of one badass bounty hunter has arrived in the flesh, better hurry up, he’d be disappointed if you kept him waiting too long!”
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