What Drugs?

[Ash]

Jakob approached his door in the same way he did to any sensible puzzle in his life, in no particular set way. He has all but forgotten what he was doing back at his apartment, but he remembers needing to go back. Something about how he wasn’t sure he was properly equipped for the adventure he needed to go on. He slotted his key into the old-timey lock, the teeth making as little noise as he could prevent them from doing. The drug addict prime was on his knees and looked to be more drunk than anything as he eased the brass key into place.

He looked around thoughtfully, slowly his head turning in either direction before he continued his work. Jakob twisted the key in the lock and sighed a sound of relief when it disengaged the arm that held the door firmly in the frame. He looked particularly proud of himself at this point, and then pulled the key back and gently turned the knob.

A minute later he cracked his door and looked through with his grey colored eye. The room he looked into was a mess. There were piles of clothes everywhere you looked, old fast food bags full of no doubt the remains - if any - of past meals inside them. Papers and boxes that held delicious fast paced high priced food stacked every where you can imagine. He stared for a very long time, paying close attention to the abused floor. Nothing seemed out of place.

Jakob slammed the door back shut before getting to his full height, then with all the grace and finesse he usually held the Russian entered the room. The door smacked angrily into the wall behind it, adding to the chipping hole in the drywall and coaxing a neighbor to scream something incoherently. The man in his apartment ignored him to hold up the crowbar in his red arm and look around in the open concept room. Beside him sat a large standing dresser, which shook with the force of the door’s opening. On top of it, a few pill bottles have fallen and roll to a stop against some socks.

The Rigger looked about until he was confused to why he assumed someone was in here, and longer until even those thoughts turned to blank spaces where his reasoning should stand. Eventually, he even closed his door, put the hook of his crowbar into the hole in the wall and flopped down on his unmade bed. The mattress was torn asunder, cotton clumps decorating its top and hiding the springs that lay in wait for you to put your guard down. His blanket did little to hide whatever nightmares that plagued him during his sleep but did make for an uncomfortable knot in his thigh.

He sat there. Staring into space for a long time before he finally realized he was zoning out. His mind immediately went straight to how he should take some more painkillers before his leg got really bad. Jakob got right back up and approached the pill bottles stashed in various places in his mess.

He found fifteen empty pill boxes, thirteen pill bottles, and two mini baggies he remembered having Bliss in them. He looked at his collection of bottles and boxes with great disappointment and frowned. His lower lip sticking out and creasing his chin with his pain. “Vhere do I get more Bliss now?” He asked himself as if he had all the answers. His slightly future self would know the familiar sting of disappointment a moment later when he realizes he didn’t have all the answers. Lucky for him, however, he quickly formed an observation to latch onto. Here in Coruscant there were things such as drug dealers. He new he was limited in who he’d be able to convince to give him something, buy he should be able to reach out to someone, da?

Da.

Jakob, with his mind, made up, walked over to his crowbar, picking up the impromptu weapon, and yanked open his door once more. It did not damage the wall further this time, but the man that exited the apartment did get yelled at once more by his neighbor. Quickly enough, he was forgetting to lock his door and headed down to tier 5. Where he could hopefully find another thing of Bliss.

[Ash]

Surprisingly the way down to teir 5 was amazingly uneventful for Jakob Volkov. He stood there in the elevator as it took off at neck breaking speeds towards the lower tiers. His hair fluttered in the wind as he stared at his equally bored reflection in the half metal half glass doors.

Jakob scratched himself.

First, his hand was just itching the half leg he still had and then it ended up in his crotch where he adjusted his belongings. His hand crawled up his stomach where his nearly nonexistent fingernails clawed at his stubble and then eventually his hand found it's away in his dirty hair.

He would have to try very hard to remember to shower and shave later on. It always seems to escape him how much time has passed.

Jakob found himself at the start of T5, stepping out and glancing about at the gang-infested surroundings. At the moment he did he saw a perplexing amount of crimes happening and did nothing to stop it. Instead, he was thinking about where the nearest drug dealer might be.

-

A few minutes later he found an overly crowded 1970’s theme whore house. It had girls hanging from the small balconies, topless and waving their boobs and hands his way. They tried to get his attention, but it was the group of men at the corner that had his mind focused as much to their dismay.

“I vant Bliss, how much I pay?” He said, already sporting a cred stick that probably wasn’t really his.

Instantly he had the men’s attention. They were all very nicely dressed, most smoking cigarettes, half of them wearing hats, the other half have slicked back their hair with some kind of oil based product. The leader had a pencil line mustache that moved with his upper lip as he scoffed and turned to the red metal armed man. “Depends. What kind of Bliss are you looking for?”

The very bored and very nonchalant look on Jakob’s face crept into surprised shock. “I did not know there are different grades!” He sounded excited.

The leader looked at his buddies with a smile and laughed, then moved over to Jakob’s side and threw an arm around the similarly sized Prime. “Of course, my friend. Bliss comes in all kinds of forms.” He smoothly turned him around to wave at the girls who blew kisses their way. “Bliss from sex.” He turned back to face his friends. “Bliss from friends.” He waved and one of them presented a leather-bound briefcase, opened it up and presented to Jakob a variety of several drugs and items. “Bliss from chemicals.”

“Dat one,” Jakob said, sounding decidedly determined. He then handed the man the cred stick. “How much?”

“Hear that boys? This is a man who knows what he wants.” The stranger said happily, laughing a bit. He pushed the card away though. “Cash, buddy. And it can all be yours. Who says money can't buy happiness, right?”

[Kaleigh Dactomb Nox]

Claire took up her position with the casual precision of a professional who had done this a thousand times. In reality, it was likely only a couple hundred, but exact details like that didn’t matter so much. She had already assembled her weapon, gotten into a comfortable position on her stomach, and had now braced her weapon onto the low wall in front of her, giving her a clear view out into the city. Somewhere out in the mass of people and vehicles was her bounty.

She knew very little personal information about the person she was hunting, except that he was a solo drug dealer that had been stepping on toes of people much bigger than them. Normally, she wouldn’t consider helping drug cartels with their problems, but something in their bounty posting had caught her eye. This solo dealer had been operating outside of the law, which didn’t bother her, but they had also been cutting their drugs with dangerous stuff in order to turn a bigger profit. Overdoses were suddenly much more common in their area of operation, and THAT was one good enough reason for her to take up the contact.

A much smaller reason was that this dealer had somehow been quite problematic to track down. Despite operating in a relatively small area, no one had been able to physically locate where the dealer was, or even who it was. Witnesses spoke of a person selling out of something similar to a newspaper stand, except one that was armored up on all sides and operated out of a rotating box. The couple of times they were cracked open, they had been completely empty.

Claire’s current hope was that they were a teleporter, and that firing into one of those stalls while it was being operated would take them out. It wasn’t a sure thing, but it was the best plan she had at the moment. 1000 meters away, it wasn’t even that risky, and if she got them in broad daylight it would be public knowledge in a matter of hours.

As she searched through the scope of her rifle for her target, however, she suddenly spotted something she hadn’t expected. A very familiar red arm, with a recognizable star design, unmistakably attached to someone she hadn’t seen in a long time.

Claire’s heart jumped when she first saw him, and she followed him in her scope as she tried to figure out if it was really him. Jakob Volkov, the man who refused to die, despite every attempt to the contrary. As she confirmed his identity, she noticed the group of people he was talking to. Curious, she patiently watched him, waiting as they chatted for a bit about something. Then, one of the better-dressed men pulled out a briefcase and went to open it. In response, Jakob grabbed it and dumped its contents onto the ground, bags and vials of something spilling out, which quickly drew out the ire of his current companions. They grabbed the now empty briefcase, which Jakob seemed to let go without a fight, and then proceeded to push him around a bit before shoving him away, leaving him on his own to wander down the street.

“Naughty boy.” she whispered to herself, clicking her tongue in a disapproving tone and shaking her head slightly.

Her attention was now fully on Jakob and what he was doing, her earlier plan almost forgotten entirely as she watched where he went next. He stumbled down the path he had been walking, seemingly at random, towards a destination that she doubted even he knew. To her mild surprise, less than a minute later he ended up at the very armored newsstand she had been scouting out, and he leaned against it like he needed to catch his breath. She watched his head perk up suddenly, and that told her all she needed to know about whether there was someone inside or not.

Her mind slowly went through a few scenarios in her head. There was no way she could make it down to him in time. Even if he was distracted for several minutes and she ran at full speed, she almost certainly wouldn’t make it before he got himself lost. And in this sprawling city, once she lost him he was as good as gone. Then there was the matter of her job. Finding out where the newsstand would be today had been entirely lucky, and there was no telling when she would find it again. If she took a shot, then she would certainly have to leave Jakob behind.

Decisions, decisions…

With a quick sigh, she ejected the magazine from her rifle and then unchambered the loaded bullet. She held it up to her lips, giving it a quick kiss before reloading it back into the magazine. Then she slammed it back into place and rechambered the shot. She took aim, clicking the safety off and holding her breath. A second passed, and then she squeezed the trigger.

“With love, from the barrel of my gun straight to your heart.”

-

Jakob hadn’t heard clearly what the man had said, but he had heard something about drugs, and that was enough to interest him. He lifted his head and stared at steel barrier like he expected it to grow a face and speak directly to him.

“What drugs?” he asked curiously.

“I said, are you looking to buy or not?” the voice responded, clearly annoyed, “I don’t got all day, and if you aren’t buying then piss off!”

“I-” Jakob started, and then something picked him up and slammed him hard into the cart in front of him. He ricocheted off, flying backward and rolling until hitting a wall. With a groan, he twisted himself onto his back, leaning his head against the wall and looking up at newsstand he had just gotten a bit intimate with. The steel had a nasty hole in it now, big enough that he could probably climb through if he wanted. He started to push himself off the ground to do that.

His legs wouldn’t move.

Confused, he looked down, and then he noticed the massive hole in his chest, similar to the one in the armored newsstand. With his human hand, he reached up and touched it, feeling the hot, sticky liquid that was bubbling out of him.

“Oooh…” he said with the tone of a child who had just figured out that the square peg didn’t fit in the round hole. He poked a finger into himself, and then found he could easily fit his entire hand in. “Dats… not good.” he added thoughtfully, closing his eyes.

It was at this point that he realized he wasn’t breathing, and that he hadn’t been breathing since he hit the ground. Somewhere, far away, he heard someone scream. Except, it was the wrong scream, the voice was too deep, and it wasn’t screaming his name. He tried to reach out, but his hand wouldn’t move anymore, and then he felt cold. That was wrong too, it was supposed to feel hot, unbelievably hot. He tried to open his eyes again, but that didn’t seem to work either.

Slowly, he realized this was different, everything was different. He allowed himself to believe that it could be different…

Maybe… he’d actually die this time…

-

Claire casually disassembled her rifle and packed it in its case. 1000 meters away, she didn’t have to worry about anyone finding her anytime soon. This far away, the bullet would have hit a few seconds before the sound was heard, and people might not connect the two right away. She stood up when she was finished packing, hefting the 30lb case and glancing back towards where she had shot.

“See you in seven days, Jakob.”

I was given permission to kill off Jakob by his writer, it’s all part of our deliciously evil plan. Never fear, Jakob fans, he will return better than ever in 7 days!!