Log:A Sight for Sore Eyes
The GLADIATORIAL ARENA of the WHEEL is a sight to behold. The stands are set out in a massive circle around the spoke of the Wheel's central pylon, and in the center of the pie, eight great ring platforms make up the actual contest grounds. The rings are endlessly configurable, and even now are drifting around the space, offering onlookers an ever-shifting array of angles from which to view the action.
Right now, contestants in tonight's show of skill are floating along on the first ring, a blank canvas meant simply to hold them on display until the real event begins. Along with, of course, several large holographic renderings of a smirking man's face.
The same man's face appears on the large screens above the arena, cameras tracking him from a position high in the center of the stands on an elevated pedastal as he begins speaking into a microphone. "COME ONE, COME ALL, and feast your eyes upon the most marvelous /sight/ you will ever /sight/ in on," he says with an identical smirk to those holograms. "For I, Tarion Tavers, the most generous benefactor and patron of performance art the galaxy has ever known, have taken it upon myself to in-/cite/ ex/cite/ment of the most thrilling variety! These contestants you see before you will prove themselves in a test of skill and daring, the most- uh, the best of them will win the sight! It's- hang on," he fumbles in his pocket.
"It's a CAYLIE-MER... Callie? Hm. It's- a big thank you to CALLIE MER-SIGHT for sponsoring this event!" he finishes with a flourish, waving the prize in the air before shoving it out towards the first ring where the contestants are waiting. "And say hello to our brave advertis- I mean, contestants! Introduce yourselves!"
A hovering camera droid whirs down to the platform, its lens like an enormous single eye mounted on a dining-plate body. The glass is reflective and shoves up close to each face in turn for their introduction.
Dalrion is looking over his blaster when the man begins to talk. he jumps slightly in surprise, but his face lights up at the grandiose display. "hah! Marvelous!" The tall, broad man with piercing blue eyes gave a bright smile to the others here. "I think i've had the pleasure of bumping into a bunch of you before. But uh.. Well, im Dalrion! future explorer and who knows what else. I guess it depends on what i set my 'Sights' on! want to get out into the galaxy and see all the sights!" he seemed very proud of that. "So dont take it as a slight but i got my eye on the prize my friends!" his face was jovial, his smile easy , and the teasing good natured.
The camera's lens captures next one who looks less like a contestant, and more like someone's mother has wandered into the wrong place at the wrong time. The diminuitive Chadra-fan is poorly suited to the armor she wears, by all appearances seeming like she would be more comfortable in an apron. Still, she waves a tiny hand at the camera, and audience, in sheepish excitement.
"Oh hi, well, this is all just so exciting, doncha know. I'm Kliq, and - oh, y'know, I am just happy to be here!" The small voice squakes out, her hands clasping together at her chest, jangling the junk armor protecting it. "You all look just so strong, I'm sure this will be fun."
Declan steps forward as he's offering a grand wave the junk armor he's wearing making a horrendous sound as it clatters together with every movement, "Greetings and salutations you lovely audience you! I am Declan Aasir of Legit Logistics for all your hauling needs! Unfortunately for the other contestants I don't plan on walking away empty handed!" With a bit of a bow with even more of a clatter of his armor he steps back with the rest of the contestants.
Saanvi arrives at a crisp stride, medpack slung lengthways across her shoulders. She scans the milling crowd with an air of uncertainty as she seeks to gain her bearings and find a spot to " She recognizes Dalrion and smiles, watching the introduction before resuming a hunt for where she will park her ass.
While most of the spectators seating was moving to allow a good view of the contest to begin, one kept close to the 'arena' level, and it was filled with a collection of medical personnel, all apparently suited up to make the field at a moment's notice. Among them, was one Doctor Tamsin Cas, who glanced up only briefly to mark the name of each contestant and to place that name with a face and/or form, before she returned to arranging the supplies she might need for whatever came ahead.
Brother Bizz waddles into the stands. His Bantha Breakfast Biscuit with signature blue sauce from BISCUIT BARON is in one hand and a large cup of alcoholic Ardees is in the other. "Oh I hope there's a Mandallian Giant tonight!" He takes a seat in the spectating bleachers, preferring the live show to the holocam broadcast in the casinos.
Boba Fett emerges from a doorway at the top of one of the audience seating areas. Covered head to toe in armor, he moves around the back of one of the seating lines, his mirrored eyes looking out at the activities unfolding within the arena this evening. Armed, but with the carbine hanging at his side, Fett just walks with a slow, and casual, pace toward a dias area where he starts up one set of stairs to take a position on a balcony point. He approaches a railing then, and moves his gloved hands out to rest them on the edge of it, silently observing like so many others here this night...
"Still can't get used to it." Murmuring to Bizz Bliptettjupp, Chani Tahn professes her disbelief at the spectacle unfolding. Glimpsed from the seats that wind their way around the arena, Chani takes one of the chairs in a position that's either bored or attempting to defend herself against the displays of violence about to unfold. "I mean, youth quoits wasn't exactly quite friendly in the water, but.." The young Naboo native trails off and leaves the rest unsaid. Her jacket pinches closed because of her crossed arms, with her right hand tucked into the crook of her left elbow and her left hooked under the bony protrusion in her right arm just beneath the elastic cuff of the jacket. "What's a Mandallian Giant?" The question, unbiden, is poised.
Slipping in among the crowds, armor reflecting the light it touches in swirling patches of iridescence across the midnight purple caught between the silver-blue edging and geometric patterns, Hadrix Kora comes, making his way through to find himself a place to set down with Gripper floating along over his right shoulder,
"This is a switch..." the smoky woman's voice, synthesized by the droid, quips once the big man is more or less settled in. <"What?"> "You're usually the one down in those pits." <"I don't need the prize."> "Fair enough."
An overpriced wares hocker is signaled too, to get a bag of warra nuts and the helmeted head turns to spot Brother Bizz close at hand, <"Well. There goes the galaxy, I guess.">
Saanvi turns and double-takes as her gray gaze sweeps across gripper-and then her tall companion. Her eyes widen and she makes her way towards Hadrix, "Commander!" she calls, her voice easily lost in the noise of the crowd as she shoves humans and aliens alike out of her way en route.
"Thank you, thank you," Tarion's somewhat grating voice blares again over the loudspeaker after each tinny introduction is finished. Once Declan has said his piece, the screens show the bounty hunter gone showhost's smarmy face once more. "And again, thank you to Callie Mer-sight: 'with our sights, you'll never look twice,' not something you can say for the competition!" On this cue, the camera droids zoom in on the dinky pistols from competitor Czerka the contestants are wielding.
"And now: LET US BEGIN!"
The first platform bearing the trio hovers over to the next, the orange energy ropes overlapping and fusing into one before a gate opens in the middle, the two docked and allowing the three to filter onto the next. "For your first test, you must!" The crowd waits with anticipation.
"You must!" The anticipation reaches a tipping point. "You must!" Tarion's vacant eyes play on the screen, staring off into nothing.
"Oh right. You must SHOOT a FISH before the PELIKKI can SWALLOW IT!" The crowd titters, unsure of the thrill-factor of this challenge; meanwhile, three tubes rise from the floor of the platform looking for all the world like very short smokestacks. A tallish, awkwardly long aquatic bird accompanies these three, trundling up out of a hatch and sitting on a perch, webbed feet splayed over it.
Then the 'smokestacks' reveal themselves as tiny cannons, as with a BOOSH of out-thrust air and water, colorful fish go rocketing skyward, arcing upward and then falling back into the fish-cannons.
The pelikki's eyes bulge and it launches into flight, its gular pouch billowing open eagerly.
Dalrion bursts out laughing at the absurdity of the concept of shooting a flying fish. This was clearly NOT what he was expecting, but he is so there for it! eyes still watering, he raises his gun. "Alright! lets put some holes in some fish!" he gives a laugh, squeezing the first two shots off! clearly his eyes were still misty from the laughing as the first two shots go horribly wide, scoring marks in the wall and maybe causing a few to yelp and scurry away from the stage a bit more. he blinks a few times, focuses and tracks the fish. "Alright you soaring seafood.. take this!" the blaster screamed and the bolt manages to score a hit on the fish, turning the flying fish into fast food.
"Shoot... Oh, a fish?" There is almost something of disappointment in Kliq's tone as she eyes the pescetarian projectile. Her disappointment, however - whether directed at having to shoot an animal or not shoot at people - soon shifts to her own performance. "Aw, shucks." The Chadra-fan sighs after her final shot whizzes past the intended mark, allowing the pistol to fall back to her side. Turning to see how her fellow contestants are faring, Dalrion earns a small tittering of excited clapping. "Excellent shot, young man!"
Declan gets settled into a firing position as he watches all the fish start to get launched up and down he grins... Lines up the sights squeezes the trigger and misses completely. A groan from the totally not a smuggler as he re-aligns the sights and fires off another shot with a complete miss, "Well that could have gone better!" A glance over at Dalrion's hit fish and he grins, "Well done!"
Bizz gnaws on his Bantha Breakfast Biscuit causing crumbs of biscuit to fall all around his seat. He says to Chani, "Well you see. Mandallian Giants were, or are, big green sentients. Bigger than Wookiees! It was said they even defeated the Mangolorian Crusaders, and then joined them, and introduced Mandallian narcolethe as a drink to their people. They served it at the ancient Oyu'baat tap cafe! Where they played bes'bev flutes with besquar embouchures, and balalaika guitars with besquar strings!" He guzzles his large BISCUIT BARON-branded cup of Ardees to wash it down, then watches the fish being shot.
As the contest began, the seating area that Tamsin had been settled in locked into place. It might take a bit of a leap to jump down, on the off-chance that the bird decided one of the contestants should be peeled out of their tin armor for its next meal. But what was work without a little risk, yes? Each of the trio of shots gained the doctor's attention, though she seemed more concerned with the trajectory of the shots which did //not// end up perforating a fish. One never knew what sort of security was in place for the spectators at this arena.
The rapid discharge of blasters doesn't make Chani clench, but her eyes blink after the first scream rips free of the weapon's barrel. With each contest firing multiple shots, the scent of burnt ozone is distinct in the air, as if the volatility of the blaster's shots were enough to demolish the atmosphere they passed through as much as the things they impacted. She sees one of the fish get tagged out of all those that fly, and the sheer number of misses speaks to either the complexity of the task or the lack of skill of the shooters. Maybe both, but the latter is the most worrisome when she's the one sitting in the stands. "Why join with the Mandalorians if they defeated them? And what's besquar? I've never seen instruments inlaid or stringed with it." Her chin angles towards Bizz, but it's not until a natural lull in all the shooting that her gaze finally makes the trip over, too.
Saanvi moves to claim a spot in the stands and offers cheers of encouragement for Dalrion as he goes shooting for fish but at some point she stops and tilts her head, puzzled by the task.
From his balcony level, Boba watches the shots as they start to pepper the area around the fish, he doesn't really react to it beyond simply watching. He does turn his head when a serving droid floats up to him, and tries to peddle him some beverages, and foodstuffs. Boba just shakes his head at the droid, even waving a hand lightly at them to usher them away. It's a second after that, that someone speaks his name, and Boba turns from the entertainment to walk toward a large alien in finely dressed attire who occupies the observation room beside the balcony. Fett starts to walk toward him, at a calm pace.
Head lifting when the title 'Commander' comes out - galaxy keeps spinning and some things remain the same... the irony isn't lost to him and Hadrix turns slightly, visored gaze sweeping the area close by and when the red pinlight behind it falls on Saanvi there is a bow of Hadrix's head and a slight bob as though inviting her to come over if she wishes.
Then the mad space-hobo is bellowing about shooting fish and his attention is arrested again, head tilting to one side while he shifts how he sits, finding that small area he can fit his backside on with his jetpack still being worn. Shooting fish, well... that's certainly a method of small mobile object targeting. Another look towards where Saanvi is made again, to see whether she is, or isn't coming near. Spying her moving on he returns fully attention to the goings on, while giving addendum to Bizz's explanation,
<"The Mandallians weren't conquered and fought the Crusade to a standstill. So they were given the option, for those who wished, to join the clans."> His warra nuts arrive, and now the question: save for later or take his bucket off?
"OOOOOH, he actually hit one!" Tarion laughs with unbelief, pointing down at Dalrion, looking more like just another gawking spectator than the host. "With one of those kriffing Czerkas, even, talk about a miracle!" As the other shots go wildly wide, the audience begins to get into it, their appetites whetted by the chum in the air. With great relish and a thrumming WARK after each fish it catches, the pelikki swoops through the air, swallowing fish after fish until none remain to launch from the cannons and it settles with a heavy gular pouch back on its perch.
"It's a shame you didn't have a CALLIE MER-SIGHT... wait a second. Callie Merk'd? A CALLIE SIGHT by your side!" the bounty hunter calls, throwing away his notecard over his shoulder as he does so. "ON TO THE NEXT CHALLENGE!"
As the first platform did, the second hovers up to the third, docking and merging barrier ropes once again. "For this challenge, you must!" The crowd murmurs with malcontent at the repeated sticking point from last time. "No, I remember this one. You must jump across a pond of slime on the backs of seven gampassa turtle shells while dodging the spit of the Jagomiri BOG SPITTER!"
The next platform matches this description, a broad pond through which slowly meander (within a certain spacing of each other) seven round reptilian shells belonging to the gampassas that swim beneath the surface. On the far end, a bank has been formed, and on that bank sits an enormous lizard, horned and finned, watching the contestants across the green bog from under lazy red eyelids that hold a sort of indifferent evil to them.
Saanvi does indeed make her way towards Hadrix she just paused to voice encouragement before making her way towards the familiar face, "Forgive the detour, commander. It is good to see you!"
Grafn Struss snorts himself awake, why he'd been in something of an booze and vittle induced coma having started on the vittles and the booze way before the event actually began! The wild-haired and abundantly toothed male glances about wildly for a few brief second, and then pops a kernal of some vittle into his mouth, and washes it down with a swig of something likely boozey. "Excellent!" His eyes blink wildly as they focus slowly, which in turn sets his brows into a roving dance of wild undulation. Why yes, Grafn's focus slowly drifts and latches onto proceedings and with a hearty clasp of his hands, the old pilot lets slip a wild cheer as those fighting for that fine prize scurry about and shoot and what not. "Marrrrvelous!" The old Coruscanti positively rumbles with brandy-soaked delight.
Tamsin, having finally settled her supplies just as she wanted them, finally turned her attention to the contest at hand. Just when it was getting good. Slipping, possibly falling, potential work on the horizon. Clearly, ever day was a day to look forward to the potential for work. Certainly, those who knew the doctor might say that was every day. But today was special. "Oh, thank you," came the woman's comment, as a bottle of sealed water was handed over in her direction.
Lord Borgol the Hutt sits among the crowd; even if some of that crowd has been edged away by a small contingent of personal attendants and thugs. It is all in the interest of creating an adequate space for the Hutt to stretch out and truly enjoy the opportunity to partake in a little brutality and competitive spirit. While the onyx-skinned lord watches the proceedings with a measure of detached interest, one thick-fingered hand idly stroking across his blubberous chin, which in turn smears a liberal amount of thick slime across his skin.
Each of his golden eyes - one organic and the other cybernetic - travels across the arena and the competitors therein. The Hutt's presence has been stoic to say the least, with little in way of energy or jubilation erupting from Lord Borgol. In fact aside from a few contemplative grumbles from time to time, he has been relatively quiet while he witnesses the gladiatorial event.
Dalrion turns and gives a massive smile to those giving cragatulations, offering a playful bow. "Thank you! everyone gets luck once right?!" he laughs merrily, watching the others take aim and shoot. Each attempt brings forth a cheer and applause from the man. "That was close! well done!" he looks to the crowd, a bit surprised by so many showing up. he waves merrily, spying Saanvi in the crowd. "Saanvi! i hit one!!" he is TRULY proud of this. "Ohh! and Doc Tamsin! i got lucky did you see!" he is clearly enjoying the competition and the revelry. then the next challenge is called. He blanches slightly and rubs his temple. "oh slag it.." he looked to Tarion, "hope you dont mind the armor getting slimed!" he exhaled slowly, eyeing the shells that appeared. "i swear.. this was NOT what i expected. ok.. light on the feet.. " with that he darted off, moving quick for a big ma. The first few shells he bounded over easily! and it seemed to bolster his confidence. "Haha! i can do thi---" SPLAT so close.. the end was so close.. but down went Dalrion. Right as the bog spitter spits thought! the attack goes wide from the falling and flailing man. and as he pushes himself up, covered ins lime, he begins to laugh. he looks over his shoulder at the others. "So uh.. see what i did? dont do that."
"Stories about Mandallian giants and the.. Mangalorians," Chani relates to Kasia, and pauses a moment to recall the direct term Bizz had used. "Oh? Which one?" Her gaze casts itself into the arena as if the mere mention might be enough to help her identify the competitor in question. There are no name tags or holo signs to point them out, though, and Chani relies on whatever verbal description Kasia might use to help her search. Or would, if some metallic-tinged voice distorted through an internal communications system didn't catch her attention with mentions of 'Mandallians' and 'Crusaders'. The newcomer in all the armor -- a famed Mangalorian, as Bizz would say -- who seems vaguely familiar in some way that Chani isn't able to quite discern receives a brief look from Chani. "Ah." History corrected. Or challenged, at least. Is the Jedhan monk correct, or the acolyte of the warlike culture whose name Bizz often mangles? Chani doesn't know, but the announcements of the next challenge demand her eyes front, and Chani finds herself sucking in short breaths with every hop the competitors make in their journey across. "Oooh!" It's blurted out when the first makes it to the last shell before falling in, with Chani wincing at the near miss that sends him plummeting. "I think I saw him once. At the Blue Light."
We must be doing /what/ now?" Kliq blinks, letting out another excited titter as the platforms change. Maybe this isn't what a middle-aged being should be doing with their spare time, but it seems that nothing can dullen the little Chadra-fan's spirit. "It's certainly been some time since I've had to do much jumping, dear." She chides Tarion up on the screen with a grin as she gets a running start aaaaand - SPLAT. She lands three shells before missing on the fourth, plummeting with a short-lived "eek!" into the grime below.
Kliq emerges from the muck with a wicked laugh before remembering the Bog Spitter - she is, at least, able to roll out of the way of that danger. Now covered head to toe in muck, she wades her way to the other side to haul herself bodily free.
Brother Bizz has another bite of his Bantha Breakfast Biscuit with blue sauce with a CRUNCH. There is some chewing and then swallowing, and a polite nod to Kasia as she joins them. "Besquar is the Mangolorian metal, that is said to withstand even lite swords. The smiths of olde could make it into plates, foam, mesh, even strings! It was only found on Mangolore and Concord Donk. But many of the skills of olde are lost, and Mangolore is now a wasteland filled with hicks, petty warlords, and bandits. So much wisdom lost! By the FORCE." He belches and squints at Hadrix as his lessons are interrupted.
Declan looks at the next platform and the floating turtle shells and just sighs, "I'm gonna be nasty smelling when I get done with this." He stretches a bit and gets all prepped to take a running leap at the first shell and just sails right into the slime. As he pops his head up a bit he gives a thumbs up, "Safe from the Spitter at least!"
Saanvi offers a broad smile and lifts her hands to applaud in encouragemenmt for Dalrion, she has no idea what the point to any of this is but Dalrion seems excited so she reflects back beaming encouragement to her strange and cheerful friend. She then winces and lowers her hands as Dalrion goes splat, "Fair Effort, Mr. Dalrion!" she calls out, cupping her hands around her mouth and then saying to Hadrix, "You would like Mr. Dalrion, he's a chipper sort."
"That one," Kasia says as she points in the direction of Dalrion, and then adds his name just to clarify to Chani just who she's talking about. "Not well, but I've met him a few times. He seems nice." She goes quiet as Bizz continues explaining things, giving him a curious look after a few moments. "What a unique way of pronouncing some of that. Is that an ancient way of saying it?" she asks, curious. "I don't know much about them beyond what I've learned second hand, and I know even less of their history."
Fully awake? Possibly! Coherent? Highly unlikely! Chewing on a morsel and washing it down with some delicious drink? Absolutely! Grafn exhales and shifts his gaudily coloured bulk within his seat, the old Bantha Rider being clad in quite possibly the brightest and most unsuitable colours going. If one ignores the wild mop of grey hair and the sarlaccian teeth, and merely focuses on the clothing? Bright reds, golds, yellows. He looks like a fading sun. And as he shifts, brushing a few crumbs from his stomach, the old Coruscanti bellows a cheer for the participants. "That's the spirit! Onwards and up..." Oh nope. Declan missed. "Almost!" A bright rumble of mirth erupts and Grafn sweeps a hand through his wild locks of grey and focuses on one for the moment. "Excellent tactics there, wonderful!"
<"Not lost, just waiting to be recovered."> Helmet stays on, for now, watching people hop and dodge the spitters or fall into slime. Hadrix's left hand holds his nibbles bag and his right remains free. Gripper simply floats, silent again, though both turn towards Chani bobbing simultaneously in silent greeting, the youth's face reflected in the transparisteel that conceals his features behind its tinted barricade.
<"It's only a matter of finding the strings to follow.">
Saanvi's comment pulls his attention away, black T-visor centering on the dark haired woman, <"I've met him, briefly."> inclining his head towards the competing man being referred to. <"Good in s fight, but I've had little other experience with them thus far."> a slight tick of his helmet towards the arena, <"Doesn't have much for dancing feet though.">
As each of the contestants tumbles into the slime in turn, Tarion's expression fills with ever-greater joy. The thick substance filling the pond could accurately be described as mucous. Sticky, stanky, and clinging to every inch of the contestants that drag themselves out of it, it refuses to be left behind, much like the memory of an unfortunate haircut or kid sibling.
The Jagomiri bog spitter, for having such an instense name, appears barely interested in the contestants and suffices itself with a few disinterested loogies lobbed their way before settling down with an errant fish to start gnawing.
"Oh, folks, I can't tell you how well this is going, because I haven't been keeping track." A droid attendant nudges him with something, and he lifts it to his face. "Oh, uh, Dalrion holds the lead at the moment. ON TO THE NEXT CHALLENGE!"
Once more the platforms rise up to the next ring, joining together and permitting the contestants to enter, laden with slime and nary a towel to be seen. "For this event, you must mount and ride an UNTAMED BLURRG! Whoever stays on the longest wins! And uh, for bonus points, there's a droid! Shoot the droid while on blurrg-back and we'll all be very impressed!"
Three fenced-in stablepens barely contain three blurrgs jockeying for their moment of freedom, each with a short run-up of stairs to assist in mounting the blurrg. Unfortunately, there is no tack at all to assist in staying on the blurrg. The aforementioned droid whirrs around mid-air, painted gold.
Saanvi ahhhs, "I have not seen him in a fight-that is high praise coming from you." She flashes a smile up, clearly pleased to see Hadrix, "Perhaps once I have earned enough to replace my gear I may see for myself how he is. Assuming it does not involve fish or leaping." She pauses and then leans up and wonders, "What is the purpose of these challenges, Commander?"
Clearly there's something humorous about people falling down in nearly any culture. For Lord Borgol begins to laugh. It is a deep and booming noise one would expect of a god. While the sound is powerful and practically shakes the air around his presence within the audience, the sound soon passes and once more the Hutt Lord is left to observe the efforts of the contenders in his own reserved silence. The prospect of the next challenge involving not only an act of skill with an UNTAMED BLURRG!, there's also the prospect of a fine display of martial skill as well with the whole matter of shooting a droid (yay!) while trying to stay mounted on that same UNTAMED BLURRG!. This, of course, seems to result in Lord Borgol sitting a little more upright and his golden eyes widening as though that would suddenly make him take in even more details of the upcoming feats.
Dalrion stares slack jawed and slimey at Tarion. "what!? a real! like.. " he snorts, wiping more of the slime off himself. "First you get us all slimey, then you put us on a bucking wild animal! its madness... and you are a genius sir!" he looks at the blurrg and swallowed. he glanced to the stands and spied kasia. a grin played over his face. "look! its almost like the nerf! but its still got its head! lets see if i learned a thing or two!" with that he off toward the blurrg, mounting the thing and readying his gone. he nods he was ready.. he was not ready. The animal bucks to life and dalrion is whipped around like a ragdoll, blaster flailing every which way BUT toward the drone. three shots ring out, but none of them are remotely close to hitting their target, in fact one is delivered while Dalis flying through the air, tossed aside by the beast. he hits the ground and rolls away, couching and then laughing, "yeah.. maybe.. got more to learn"
"A metal that can both be malleable enough to make strings for instruments and can also withstand powerful energy emissions?" Chani's skepticism is plain even if she never voices it. Between the armored man's interjections and Bizz's tendencies of grandeur, Chani finds it difficult to remain focused on being a spectator who should be spectating. Bizz, however, leaves once he's finished with his biscuit and his drink, and Chani spares a glance for the Jedhan monk waddling off before returning her attention to Kasia. "Dalrion sounds right. Or maybe he never shared his name. He was one of the customers at the bar when I was having breakfast before heading back to Naboo." Though she speaks to Kasia, her gaze has truly settled back on the competitors. The aforementioned Dalrion is in the lead. "I was expecting something more.. painful, but if an untamed blurrg is anything like the Blue Light mechanical nerf.." Chani's voice trails off.
Just because Kliq looks like an animal, doesn't mean she knows how to handle them. The short-statured female barely comes to the shoulder on any one of the bluurgs, and so requires a great deal of clamboring, panting, and clattering to climb up and make a grab for a passing beast.
It goes poorly.
"Oh, oh dear!" Immediately, she can only clutch at whatever purchase she can find on the bluurg's back, being twisted one way and then another! Trying to free one hand to shoot ends disasterously, dropping her down to the ground with a squeak! Her time on the floor is brief, however, as she is snatched up by a foot and left to dangle pitifully. "I wonder how /you/ taste!" The little bat-woman grumbles as she is waves around like a rag doll - but this affords her a unique view of the targets and, with accuracy that would have surprised her had she been able to see, manages two shots as she is limp-noodled from one end of the paddock to the other.
"Dear me! Did I hit any?"
Declan stares at the Blurrg and just shakes his head, "I'm getting too old for this." With a leap and a prayer he jumps onto the back of the beast as it starts to buck and spin he points the pistol in the general direction of the drone and prays that the blaster shoots true... Which at first it looks like it's going to the red bolt of the Czerka 411 flying at the Drone right on target and then it just loses it's coherency and scatters before impact, "That's right. I forgot about the range of these things." The second bolt was when the drone was closer but it goes wide.
Kasia spots the grin from Dalrion and grins back at him. "Well done!" He might be able to see her cheer for him, but the actual cheer may be lost in the din of the crowd. She slants a look over to Chani after a moment, nodding her agreement. "It sounds too good to be true, doesn't it? Some material that can do all of this? Sometimes I wonder if some of it isn't just stories to make it all seem even more special and valuable than it already is. Adds an air of mystique to their artisans of old, too." She has no real idea about the truth of any of it, and now Bizz is gone and can't even help to educate them further.
"I'm not sure if we should be more worried about the contestants or those poor Blurgg's," one of the medics sitting with Tamsin commented, as the riding attempts....took a turn. "You would think that that time spent at the Blue Light would have helped. But, let's be honest, I was just as terrible when I first started. It is a work in progress, clearly." The water bottle is cracked open, a sip taken, "And I don't imagine the slime from that swamp is helping, at all. Oh, yes." Tamsin reached into her bag, removing a small twist-topped canister, "Just under the nose. It helps, believe me." She handed over the canister to the medic.
Grafn Struss has spent some ungraceful moments atop the headless nerf, mostly when suitably fuelled by cheap brandy and wild notions of being above such notions as gravity. But to witness these skillful folks attempt quote a more dangerous thing here? Grafn pours out a healthy tumbler of some some Alderaanian brandy, and hoists it high to annoint those attempting to scrabble atop the blurrg and shoot that poor little drone. "That's the spirit!" The drink sloshes, but it is artfully thrust into the air, and soon guzzled in one delicious duck of that old hand of his, and the sudden slurp of his lips! That warming sensation settling once more as he follows through with more food. Or attempts to. He's out of little sporting vittles! But a few pats of his abundant pockets, and Grafn finds a ration bar of dubious date and provenance. Well. Said bar is soon opened and chomped upon! A brief pause to digest the utter lack of flavour, and Grafn shrugs and continues to eat. "I ache just witnessing this."
<"Win a prize, I don't quite get the obstacle course - but to each their own, eh?"> one shoulder lifting, <"It's an odd use for fighting pits, but the one hosting is... odd."> there is a moment where the big man may be parsing his thoughts, choosing the words to be forced through the mechanical broadcast of his helmet, turning his already broken stone voice into something inhuman.
<"Personally I'd have had them fight a Gorax from Sanctuary Moon and whomever had done the best to fell the creature wins the prize. Would give the medics and on-call surgeons plenty of work after. Broken bones, dislocations, that old song and dance."> there's a shift in tone that suggests he's grinning behind the iron and transparisteel of his helmet and the pin light behind the right visor branch flashes momentarily.
Saanvi ahhhs, "I understood the incentive, not the the obstacles. I came because I thought there might be need for a physician but it seems all...fairly beneign." She then turns and peers towards the host, "Who is the host? How do you know him?"
The blurrgs are having approximately NONE of what the contestants are offering, and shortly after mounting up, all are cast to the platform floor in various levels of ignominy, except for Kliq! In a minor miracle, she lands two shots on the whirring golden drone, that seems to be somewhat dazed as it almost flies into one of Declan's shots that just barely misses.
"Did he?! Could he have?!" Tarion calls in sensational overtones before turning frankly to the droid attendant. "No, really, did he hit that? No? Well. Shame! Kriffin' shame," the bounty hunter remarks amiably, turning back to the stages. "ON TO THE FINAL CHALLENGE!"
For the next and last time, the rings elevate to the next platform, joining together as the cordons merge.
"For this round, you must! Climb to the top of the rotating pylon, using Alderaanian walking barnacles as your only grips! /IF/ you somehow reach the top, you win the round and may take a shot at ME for bonus points!"
"Now we're talking!" a rabble-rouser shrieks from the crowd.
"That's right!" Tarion replies with a broad grin. "But if you fall!" The screens pan down to the area floor below the single towering pylon standing forty feet tall. "You will land in a pool of- wait, there's nothing down there." The droid bleeps something. "Oh, it comes on after? Oh right, because otherwise the burns," the bounty hunter chuckles.
The pylon is a cylinder ten feet thick, one width from top to bottom, but every ten feet rotating in an opposite direction and each at different speeds. The entire surface is covered with a wide variety of motive, mobile rocks that, at intervals, cease their wandering and stick to the surface of the pylon. Those are the barnacles.
Grafn Struss pushes up, sending an abundance of crumbs scattering for their lives, tumbling down and down and down! Like a myriad of Dalrion's asked to climb something. A moment to steady himself, a firm approving nod to follow, and Grafn takes his wavering leave. A fine event! But Grafn needs to sleep it off.
"Like so many things," Chani agrees with Kasia's question in an affirmative. "Do you think he'll win? He's in the lead and this is the last challenge." Her arms unfold and she scoots farther towards the edge of her seat, with her hands braced against the edges of the arm rests to aid the movement. She leans forward and braces her elbows against her knees, fingers lacing and providing a platform for her chin to rest against while the next challenge is explained. "I'm glad no one's gotten truly hurt so far. And this one looks kind of fun." Chani's eyes float from one section to the next, as if imagining the logistics of trying to prepare for each section of the polyon rotating at different speeds. "Looks like good exercise, at least. Especially in all of that heavy armor."
Dalrion winces at the mention of climbing. "Well... this has done a fine job for showing me all the things i DONT know how to do and am shite at. Between slime and jumping and animal riding.. i have a litany of skills to improve." he laughs merrily and looks at the wall. "Well.. lets add one more skill to the list. Climbing!" he takes a deep breath and then rushes toward the wall. "im going to enjoy shooting you Tarion.. for the slime i mean!" he laughs again, getting half way up the wall. "This is so baaaa---" his hand slips. his foot slips.. and down he goes. There is a sudden BURST of flames and Dalrion vanishes beneath the stage!
<"I've run into him a few times. So I know him only from those brief instances. Little more. He's erratic."> a touch of disdain in the last word there. A hand lifting in a 'see' gesture with the notion of taking shots at Tarion at the culmination of all this. <"I don't get it...">
Maybe too pragmatic for his own good, but Al'Verde Kora reaches with one hand to lift the rim of his helmet enough to shove a few warra nuts into his mouth before letting it drop back down again with repetitive sounds of seals releasing and closing over once again.
<"Someday I should attain such a prize and see how people would fare on Dxun. Your services would be needed there, for certain."> a certain relish creeping into Hadrix's voice at the idea, <"Strangle vines, drowner weed, boma and all the other interesting species of flora and fauna...">
He can't help himself either, aural sensors scrubbing background noise and he interjects at least one more time on Ms. Tahn's converations, <"Heavy armor is good for exercise and training. Anything heavier than what you would normally be in, or using, is better. It makes you quicker, and being used to working with greater force means when no longer weighed you strike harder. It's why training weapons should be two to three kilos heavier than the real thing.">
Kliq eyes up the towering obstacle, head tilting to one side. "I will be feeling this tomorrow." She assures herself before cracking her knuckles, giving a minor stretch, and leaping up to grasp at the handholds.
Up, up, up - she's nearly halfway, now! This really isn't all that - and then an intended handhold shucks itself free and wobbles just out of her reach. There isn't enough time to correct, her weight already leaning her past the point of no return.
Oh, barnacles. Down, down, DOWN!
For those sat nearest to the point that she loses her grip, they are treated to a quickly diminishing "EEEEeeeeeee-!" as the Chadra-fan plummets from the pylon, down through a ring of dramatic fire, and onto a cushion. She lays there a long moment, trying to catch her breath as it has rushed out of her. It takes her awhile to stand, brush herself off, and hobble back up the stairs to the stage - she isn't as young as she once was.
"Is he? Oh good!" Kasia seems pleased to hear from Chani that Dalrion is in the lead, she hasn't been keeping track of successes and failures. Mostly it was just funny to watch people get slimed. "This event has been fun. Less brutal than a lot of them out there. It does all look like a lot of exercise though. I think I am content with my position at these things as being spectator only."
Declan begins the epic climb he's flying up the tower... Until a walking barnacle walks out of his reach and he's falling... And there's some lovely, "WHY IS THERE FIRE?!?!" As he plummets through the burning rings of fire he finds himself landing onto a very nice cushion... And he just lays there for a bit before he finally climbs to his feet and heads up the stairs back onto the stage.
Tamsin sipped her water as the third of the contests was announced. This looked promising. Until it didn't, and all three contestants fell to their not unlikely death. This was Tarion Tavers, after all. But, death was not always final in this galaxy. So, another sip of water, "I am glad I brought the emergency fire blankets." For they were small, but useful things.
Saanvi assures with a warm smile, "I am always at your disposal, Commander. I had been without set shelter but now I am most frequently found aboard a ship called the Enigma with a group called the Krayt Dragoons. I will gladly train with you any time you like. I could surely use the practice. Just give me time to earn new gear." She stands on her tip toes trying to see over the head of those standing infront of her, "Did someone say there was fire?"
At some point Lord Borgol had began to doze off and his head droops forward, large gold eyes begin to slide closed. Soon enough he's enjoying a light nap, which is surely courtesy of the screaming and cheering taking place around him. Eventually he's sure to make good his departure with his little gathering of retainers, but that'll come after his power doze.
"There goes one! Oh, and another! Ladies and gentlemen, all three of our brave contenders have failed to reach the top!" The pylon was perfectly positioned, but when each of the contestants fall into the flames beneath it instead, Tarion seems nothing but plussed. "I suppose they're all dead. This will make my job easy." The droid attendant interrupts with a poke at his side. "What? I said it should be- oh, well, that's a shame," he shrugs with a lopsided grin, thumbing at a control panel on his host's box to bring the last platform up to his level, along with the three contestants.
Striding out into the ring himself, he indicates three square spots on the floor of it. "And here we have the winner's days! To the right, in third place, please give a round of applause for DECLAN AASIR!" When the man steps onto his spot, it rises up a measure. "And to the left! Winner of the third round by a mile and SECOND PLACE! CLICK SQUEAMISH!" When the Chadra Fan takes /her/ slot, it rises by a more substantial measure!
"And rounding out the list and winner of the GRAND PRIZE from our sponsor Callie Something, it's DALRION!" This platform rises the highest, and Tarion passes up the gleaming sight modification. "Hold it up high, show the people what you've won! And uh, I've just been told if you mention DALRION at your next purchase, the folks at Callie will give you ten percent off! Everyone's a winner!" Confetti pops from three pathetically small balloons in corners of the stands.
Dalrion pops his head up from the stairs, after giving a dramatic pause for people to wonder if he had been consumed by the fire! but he hadnt been, and he laughed as he entered back onto the stage. As tarion motions to the platforms, Dalrion moves to stand where he is direct, a bright smile on his face. "This was an experience to say the least! Cant say i've done half of that before!" he claps as each winner is called out, cheering loudly. "Well done! well done everyone!" he is shocked when he gets called the winner, taking the sight and looking down it a moment. "Thank you! the sights i'll see with the sight! Thank you all!"
Nobody seems more bewildered by her second place position than Kliq. "I won the second round?" But, despite her confusion - not having actually seen and verified that her shots had found their marks that round - she is happy to accept the credits. "Well done, dear!" She praises Dalrion, turning to Declan. "You too - you... Well, you tried!" There is a wide, genuine grin before she jumps off her stand and begins to head for the exit. "It is going to take me hours to get this all out of my fur." She can be heard lamenting as she toddles off.
Declan gives a wave to the crowds as he comes up from the stairs and is fully on the stage with the rest of the contestants. As the winner is announced he gives Dalrion a grin and a whoop, "Well done sir! Next time I'll get ya!" He gives Kliq a grin and shrugs, "I tried. But it was fun while trying."