Roleplay
Tell stories and roleplay in the world of Flight Rising.
TOPIC | Grey Matters a Star Wars RolePlay
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"A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away...."

War is in full swing between the Jedi, and Sith forces. The very galaxy dangling in the balance as the seemingly endless clash wages on.

Our story begins in the year 1000 BBY, on the smugglers' moon Nar Shadaa. With an unlikely band of fellows joined together by their greyed out beliefs of the way the world truly works. Regardless of whis side they originated on the suspicious acts and atrocities they've witnessed have driven them to the conclusion that something is amiss in the grand scheme of things. As if some undetectable hand pulls upon the strings of the battles, twisting the hands of both factions.

Together the odd company will have to face unyielding consequences all for the pursuit of the questions why, and who. Can they band together and overcome it all, or will the grey matters at hand prove to be too much? Only time can tell our inquisitors' tale.


Character Roster
Xegur Oucoa

Vho

Aniath
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Grissha'vellu

Daxx

Pinglist

@ResidentLunatic
@ImpossibleJedi4
@Nijiryu
@Arrayth


Do you wish to become an inquisitor too? Perhaps you can! Please consult our OOC page for further instructions.
"A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away...."

War is in full swing between the Jedi, and Sith forces. The very galaxy dangling in the balance as the seemingly endless clash wages on.

Our story begins in the year 1000 BBY, on the smugglers' moon Nar Shadaa. With an unlikely band of fellows joined together by their greyed out beliefs of the way the world truly works. Regardless of whis side they originated on the suspicious acts and atrocities they've witnessed have driven them to the conclusion that something is amiss in the grand scheme of things. As if some undetectable hand pulls upon the strings of the battles, twisting the hands of both factions.

Together the odd company will have to face unyielding consequences all for the pursuit of the questions why, and who. Can they band together and overcome it all, or will the grey matters at hand prove to be too much? Only time can tell our inquisitors' tale.


Character Roster
Xegur Oucoa

Vho

Aniath
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Grissha'vellu

Daxx

Pinglist

@ResidentLunatic
@ImpossibleJedi4
@Nijiryu
@Arrayth


Do you wish to become an inquisitor too? Perhaps you can! Please consult our OOC page for further instructions.
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Well, I'll shoot her with my ray gun when she comes. Yes, I'll shoot her with my ray gun when she comes. Yes, I'll shoot her with my ray gun, oh, I'll shoot her with my ray gun. Yes, I'll shoot her with my ray gun when she comes. When she comes!
Xegur had been to many a back water planet, and even more sleazy moons, as was part of every wanderers life. He knew how to spot trouble before it caught up with him, yet he still found himself clenching a fist around the items in is robe pocket. He'd rather not have to hunt down another petty thief, the last one squealed far too much. Not to mention the scene it had caused. Ever since Dathormir he'd learned that being in the center of attention wasn't a good thing. He continued on his way brushing past all sorts of folk with his head bowed, hood secured over his head by his horns, cantina bound. Wherever there was liquor and a meal to ba had, there would be gossip. Gossip usually led to his next ride off planet.

He ducked inside and maneuvered his way to the bar, he didn't have much to spend as of right now so he ordered cheap. Hunched over his drink he began to listen waiting for a key word to launch his plan. Nursing the foul liquid as though he truly had come only to drink.
Xegur had been to many a back water planet, and even more sleazy moons, as was part of every wanderers life. He knew how to spot trouble before it caught up with him, yet he still found himself clenching a fist around the items in is robe pocket. He'd rather not have to hunt down another petty thief, the last one squealed far too much. Not to mention the scene it had caused. Ever since Dathormir he'd learned that being in the center of attention wasn't a good thing. He continued on his way brushing past all sorts of folk with his head bowed, hood secured over his head by his horns, cantina bound. Wherever there was liquor and a meal to ba had, there would be gossip. Gossip usually led to his next ride off planet.

He ducked inside and maneuvered his way to the bar, he didn't have much to spend as of right now so he ordered cheap. Hunched over his drink he began to listen waiting for a key word to launch his plan. Nursing the foul liquid as though he truly had come only to drink.
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Well, I'll shoot her with my ray gun when she comes. Yes, I'll shoot her with my ray gun when she comes. Yes, I'll shoot her with my ray gun, oh, I'll shoot her with my ray gun. Yes, I'll shoot her with my ray gun when she comes. When she comes!
“Exasperated: If you do not wake up now, they will turn on the incinerator, and you will die.”


Grissha grumbled and turned over on her bedroll, letting out a small hiss as she got too close to the grates that covered the incineration panels of the trash chute. She glowered, quietly, at the droid head resting beside her. “Always at the best part… you *******.”

“Annoyed: I am not the one who prefers to sleep for free in the reclamation area, rather than for a pittance in a hotel.”

“You call it a pittance, I call it half my damned chit.” She sits up, and grabs the chatty vocal box, shoving it into the bag beside her bedroll, before making a b-line for the maintenance doors. HK wasn’t wrong. If she’d stayed any longer, the chute would be active again, and then not only would it would be hot… it would also stink. She’d survived a lot worse than an incinerator turning on while she was still inside, but she’d rather not smell like burning refuse for the next week.

She slides out the maintenance hatch, and flings on her robes, which she of course left OUTSIDE the potentially inhospitable room, since, well… She can survive burning, with a few weeks of concentrated meditation and a shot of kolto… her Llymean Spider-silk robes on the other hand… not so much.

She makes her way down the halls beneath the market district, finding the locker room of the maintenance personnel with little problem, and bumps the keypad with her hip, causing the faulty device to spark and hiss, before the door releases. She’d been through this place enough times in the past few months to know which doors worked and which didn’t… She’d even palmed a few passcodes, not that she ever needed them.

Being functionally homeless sucked, but… eh, it’s a way to survive.

She slid into the locker room, and made her way over to the sonic showers, pulling the drapes closed behind herself and turning them on, disrobing again to scrub off, before emerging, sparkly clean, and heading up and out of the hatch just to the left. She JUST managed to dodge the first maintenance man on shift, slinking away toward the Cantina just as he pulls open the hatch.

~~~

Making her way down the not-so-crowded promenade, she passes the massive hutt statue, stealthily throwing a rude gesture in its direction as she heads into the Cantina itself. Walking down the slope, she glances around. Technically, it was late for most people… but for a cantina it was still prime business hours. Most of these drunks wouldn’t leave for another 4 or 5 hours, if at all, and the holo-band was just getting set up, as the real players were leaving at the end of their shift.

She gives a wave to the passing bith and their dancers, giving a wink to the togruta girl in the back, who laughed and slapped her shoulder, before continuing on her way.

She stepped onto the dance floor with the start of the first song, and allowed herself to enjoy dancing, just for a little while.
“Exasperated: If you do not wake up now, they will turn on the incinerator, and you will die.”


Grissha grumbled and turned over on her bedroll, letting out a small hiss as she got too close to the grates that covered the incineration panels of the trash chute. She glowered, quietly, at the droid head resting beside her. “Always at the best part… you *******.”

“Annoyed: I am not the one who prefers to sleep for free in the reclamation area, rather than for a pittance in a hotel.”

“You call it a pittance, I call it half my damned chit.” She sits up, and grabs the chatty vocal box, shoving it into the bag beside her bedroll, before making a b-line for the maintenance doors. HK wasn’t wrong. If she’d stayed any longer, the chute would be active again, and then not only would it would be hot… it would also stink. She’d survived a lot worse than an incinerator turning on while she was still inside, but she’d rather not smell like burning refuse for the next week.

She slides out the maintenance hatch, and flings on her robes, which she of course left OUTSIDE the potentially inhospitable room, since, well… She can survive burning, with a few weeks of concentrated meditation and a shot of kolto… her Llymean Spider-silk robes on the other hand… not so much.

She makes her way down the halls beneath the market district, finding the locker room of the maintenance personnel with little problem, and bumps the keypad with her hip, causing the faulty device to spark and hiss, before the door releases. She’d been through this place enough times in the past few months to know which doors worked and which didn’t… She’d even palmed a few passcodes, not that she ever needed them.

Being functionally homeless sucked, but… eh, it’s a way to survive.

She slid into the locker room, and made her way over to the sonic showers, pulling the drapes closed behind herself and turning them on, disrobing again to scrub off, before emerging, sparkly clean, and heading up and out of the hatch just to the left. She JUST managed to dodge the first maintenance man on shift, slinking away toward the Cantina just as he pulls open the hatch.

~~~

Making her way down the not-so-crowded promenade, she passes the massive hutt statue, stealthily throwing a rude gesture in its direction as she heads into the Cantina itself. Walking down the slope, she glances around. Technically, it was late for most people… but for a cantina it was still prime business hours. Most of these drunks wouldn’t leave for another 4 or 5 hours, if at all, and the holo-band was just getting set up, as the real players were leaving at the end of their shift.

She gives a wave to the passing bith and their dancers, giving a wink to the togruta girl in the back, who laughed and slapped her shoulder, before continuing on her way.

She stepped onto the dance floor with the start of the first song, and allowed herself to enjoy dancing, just for a little while.
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Vho was relieved to be in a ship. It wasn't his ship, sure, but it was better than skulking around the dark belly of whatever planet he was on at the time.

Of course, they were about to land, and on Nar Shadaa no less. He knew this planet had quite the reputation, and while droids weren't quite as... Conspicuous, there were gangs of them who would fight each other for spare parts.

That wasn't particularly promising.

But it was better than if Daxx had shot him through the optic and turned in his bounty.

He sighed, an entirely unnecessary, electronic sound, and began initiating the landing sequence. Stretching a leg, he wondered if he could get some wiring that had been damaged in the crash replaced.

The pilot's seat turned as he called out to Daxx, "We're here. Nar Shadaa, as requested."
Vho was relieved to be in a ship. It wasn't his ship, sure, but it was better than skulking around the dark belly of whatever planet he was on at the time.

Of course, they were about to land, and on Nar Shadaa no less. He knew this planet had quite the reputation, and while droids weren't quite as... Conspicuous, there were gangs of them who would fight each other for spare parts.

That wasn't particularly promising.

But it was better than if Daxx had shot him through the optic and turned in his bounty.

He sighed, an entirely unnecessary, electronic sound, and began initiating the landing sequence. Stretching a leg, he wondered if he could get some wiring that had been damaged in the crash replaced.

The pilot's seat turned as he called out to Daxx, "We're here. Nar Shadaa, as requested."
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Call me Blue, or any iteration of my username you'd like.
~Emerald Lightning DOM Shop~Force-Sensitives Subspecies~
~Kyber Pixels~Gaoler Adopts~Dragon Sketches~
Stay curious, stay weird, stay kind, and don’t let anyone ever tell you you aren’t smart or brave or worthy enough.
Aniath


A tall shadow broke the light of its surroundings, the heavy metal clatter of his unboothed legs tapping against the ground reverberating through his immediate surroundings.. The shadow of his hood lent itself well to the covering of his face, leaving only the tentacle like beard on his lower chin visible and available, the faint shimmer of the golden lip ring really the only thing that stood out as special on the sith pureblood..

His path was simple, he was simply headed for a Drink, and given his menacing looking demeanor, not too many people bothered engaging with him, he found himself kinda thankful for that.. He enjoyed polite conversation but..considering where he was that was incredibly unlikely...
At his side hung his lightsaber, his weapon of choice, and mounted on his form, the shield generator that allowed him to be in the thick of the fights without too much worry beyond..well.. the usual..

Finding his way to the bar he entered, having passed enough people offering winks at him, Local dancers, he carried no interest..
"Ill have an Urrqal." He stated to the tender, moving over to settle by the bar and pulling back his hood..
His face was pleasantly unscarred which was odd for a sith, the black long hair swept back and his piercing yellow eyes looked about as cruel as could be..not that that was neccessarely his faulth..but thats neither here nor there...

the Drink he had ordered was Brought to him with reasonable haste, credits were exchanged, and he settled to drinking..not really sure what the day held.
Aniath


A tall shadow broke the light of its surroundings, the heavy metal clatter of his unboothed legs tapping against the ground reverberating through his immediate surroundings.. The shadow of his hood lent itself well to the covering of his face, leaving only the tentacle like beard on his lower chin visible and available, the faint shimmer of the golden lip ring really the only thing that stood out as special on the sith pureblood..

His path was simple, he was simply headed for a Drink, and given his menacing looking demeanor, not too many people bothered engaging with him, he found himself kinda thankful for that.. He enjoyed polite conversation but..considering where he was that was incredibly unlikely...
At his side hung his lightsaber, his weapon of choice, and mounted on his form, the shield generator that allowed him to be in the thick of the fights without too much worry beyond..well.. the usual..

Finding his way to the bar he entered, having passed enough people offering winks at him, Local dancers, he carried no interest..
"Ill have an Urrqal." He stated to the tender, moving over to settle by the bar and pulling back his hood..
His face was pleasantly unscarred which was odd for a sith, the black long hair swept back and his piercing yellow eyes looked about as cruel as could be..not that that was neccessarely his faulth..but thats neither here nor there...

the Drink he had ordered was Brought to him with reasonable haste, credits were exchanged, and he settled to drinking..not really sure what the day held.
_
I like to RP
_
If ya see any of my dragons you like! hit me up!
Systematitize your down time, find peace within the methodical process of rifle maintenance. Disassemble. Clean. Polish. Reassemble. Her distorted reflection glared back from the polished metal, blackened lips twisted into scowl.

"We're here. Nar Shadaa, as requested."

Ah, yes. The droid. She couldn't tell exactly what had possessed her to save it. It hadn't been too difficult disposing of the other hunters her pulse rifle left very little room for anything but success, and as much as she wanted to line her pockets, she also wanted to be able to complete other tasks while en rout to her next job.

Speaking of her ship it was a sizable monster. A war torn Kom'rk she'd picked up at scap yard and fixed. As a cruel joke she named it the prodigal son, later renamed unironically, to "Par'jila Ad" by a former partner. After that the name just stuck and the Triumphant Son had served her well.

Daxx settled into the copilot's seat to check that nothing had been tampered with. "Good. You didn't lie about being able to fly, I suppose I'll have to keep my word as well. You'll stay at my side unharmed until such a time as I am killed. Our destination is the cantina, there's always work to be had in places such as these."

She waved for the droid to follow as she stalked out, rifle on her back; blasters at her hips. She stepped in and swept the room visually bristling as several sets of eyes settled on her. It was rare to see a Rattataki off their brutal homeworld, and strange to find one bearing so many tattoos. When no one pulled a gun she settled internally finding a table to sit at until work presented itself to her armored form. She cast a glance at the dancers for a moment, fate had not handed her beauty like them, or rather if it had years of combat had erased it. She turned away and called for a server to order a drink noting the Sith a little ways off with dampened surprise. "I've a feeling that life is about to air onto the side of the ludicrous droid, and I shall become entangled with it."
Systematitize your down time, find peace within the methodical process of rifle maintenance. Disassemble. Clean. Polish. Reassemble. Her distorted reflection glared back from the polished metal, blackened lips twisted into scowl.

"We're here. Nar Shadaa, as requested."

Ah, yes. The droid. She couldn't tell exactly what had possessed her to save it. It hadn't been too difficult disposing of the other hunters her pulse rifle left very little room for anything but success, and as much as she wanted to line her pockets, she also wanted to be able to complete other tasks while en rout to her next job.

Speaking of her ship it was a sizable monster. A war torn Kom'rk she'd picked up at scap yard and fixed. As a cruel joke she named it the prodigal son, later renamed unironically, to "Par'jila Ad" by a former partner. After that the name just stuck and the Triumphant Son had served her well.

Daxx settled into the copilot's seat to check that nothing had been tampered with. "Good. You didn't lie about being able to fly, I suppose I'll have to keep my word as well. You'll stay at my side unharmed until such a time as I am killed. Our destination is the cantina, there's always work to be had in places such as these."

She waved for the droid to follow as she stalked out, rifle on her back; blasters at her hips. She stepped in and swept the room visually bristling as several sets of eyes settled on her. It was rare to see a Rattataki off their brutal homeworld, and strange to find one bearing so many tattoos. When no one pulled a gun she settled internally finding a table to sit at until work presented itself to her armored form. She cast a glance at the dancers for a moment, fate had not handed her beauty like them, or rather if it had years of combat had erased it. She turned away and called for a server to order a drink noting the Sith a little ways off with dampened surprise. "I've a feeling that life is about to air onto the side of the ludicrous droid, and I shall become entangled with it."
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Well, I'll shoot her with my ray gun when she comes. Yes, I'll shoot her with my ray gun when she comes. Yes, I'll shoot her with my ray gun, oh, I'll shoot her with my ray gun. Yes, I'll shoot her with my ray gun when she comes. When she comes!
Grissh peeled herself off the dance floor with a soft sigh as she rolled her shoulders, making sure the wrappings over her lek were still in place as she wandered over to the bar proper.

A sith pureblood, a ratatakki, a dathomiri zabrak and a lethan twi'lek all walk into a bar. "... I feel like I just walked into a bad joke. Okay, where's the Hutt in a dancer's silks? I don't see the punchline..." she mumbles as she settles on one of the high stools, just beside the Sith.

She held no actual grudge against purebloods. They had just as much potential as anyone else to be decent people, if they tried hard enough, and this one just wanted a drink. She couldn't fault him there.

However... when she actually took the time to examine her barmates. "... nice beskar. On both of you..." she mumbles, eyeing the Ratataki's armor, and more notably, the mandalorian iron legs on the sith.

The silvery-blue sheen gave it away. "Those legs must be worth a small fortune."

Welcome to hell, boys. The chatty Twi'lek.

She turned toward the bar man, and smiled. "Mandalorian black, please. If you don't have that, I'll take Jewel fruit brandy. If you don't have that... well... I guess I'll take whatever swill you can get on this rock that's aged more than ten years and actually tastes like something other than star ship fuel."

Fortunately for the tender, Jewel fruit is easy to grow, or he would never hear the end of it, as he poured her a tumbler of the brandy, passing it over.

"Awww... I was really hoping for the ale..."

The droid just... stared at her, it's optics narrowing. "Importing from Mandalor is more expensive than the owner prefers. Check when next the Empire lifts their tariffs." the machine states in the all too familiar, tinny voice.

"... They always tax the fun stuff..." the red skinned woman mumbles, pouting.
Grissh peeled herself off the dance floor with a soft sigh as she rolled her shoulders, making sure the wrappings over her lek were still in place as she wandered over to the bar proper.

A sith pureblood, a ratatakki, a dathomiri zabrak and a lethan twi'lek all walk into a bar. "... I feel like I just walked into a bad joke. Okay, where's the Hutt in a dancer's silks? I don't see the punchline..." she mumbles as she settles on one of the high stools, just beside the Sith.

She held no actual grudge against purebloods. They had just as much potential as anyone else to be decent people, if they tried hard enough, and this one just wanted a drink. She couldn't fault him there.

However... when she actually took the time to examine her barmates. "... nice beskar. On both of you..." she mumbles, eyeing the Ratataki's armor, and more notably, the mandalorian iron legs on the sith.

The silvery-blue sheen gave it away. "Those legs must be worth a small fortune."

Welcome to hell, boys. The chatty Twi'lek.

She turned toward the bar man, and smiled. "Mandalorian black, please. If you don't have that, I'll take Jewel fruit brandy. If you don't have that... well... I guess I'll take whatever swill you can get on this rock that's aged more than ten years and actually tastes like something other than star ship fuel."

Fortunately for the tender, Jewel fruit is easy to grow, or he would never hear the end of it, as he poured her a tumbler of the brandy, passing it over.

"Awww... I was really hoping for the ale..."

The droid just... stared at her, it's optics narrowing. "Importing from Mandalor is more expensive than the owner prefers. Check when next the Empire lifts their tariffs." the machine states in the all too familiar, tinny voice.

"... They always tax the fun stuff..." the red skinned woman mumbles, pouting.
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Vho held the tongue he didn't possess as he followed Daxx out of the ship and through the crowded streets, having donned his cloak and his messenger bag. The damaged wiring in his right leg caused him to limp ever so slightly, but luckily it was no more than a twinge to him, at least for now. Repairs were needed, but they could wait. He didn't exactly want to stick with someone with such a dangerous occupation, but thought better of trying to leave. And she did have a ship.

He didn't want her to change her mind and begin hunting him down. He'd rather risk further damage than risk that.

Lowering his antennas, he pulled up his hood as they entered the bar, trying his best to avoid notice by any organic beings who'd be opposed to his presence there. Sitting next to Daxx, he sat quietly, hands folded in his lap. "Interesting crowd," he said very quietly, also noticing the Sith pureblood, zooming in with his camera optic briefly.
Vho held the tongue he didn't possess as he followed Daxx out of the ship and through the crowded streets, having donned his cloak and his messenger bag. The damaged wiring in his right leg caused him to limp ever so slightly, but luckily it was no more than a twinge to him, at least for now. Repairs were needed, but they could wait. He didn't exactly want to stick with someone with such a dangerous occupation, but thought better of trying to leave. And she did have a ship.

He didn't want her to change her mind and begin hunting him down. He'd rather risk further damage than risk that.

Lowering his antennas, he pulled up his hood as they entered the bar, trying his best to avoid notice by any organic beings who'd be opposed to his presence there. Sitting next to Daxx, he sat quietly, hands folded in his lap. "Interesting crowd," he said very quietly, also noticing the Sith pureblood, zooming in with his camera optic briefly.
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Call me Blue, or any iteration of my username you'd like.
~Emerald Lightning DOM Shop~Force-Sensitives Subspecies~
~Kyber Pixels~Gaoler Adopts~Dragon Sketches~
Stay curious, stay weird, stay kind, and don’t let anyone ever tell you you aren’t smart or brave or worthy enough.
Aniath

The pureblood raised the glass with his drink of choice with a solemn motion, eyes trailing along the counter as it became more and more apparent this day was not going to be like the last. The golden piercings shimmered with the licks of light as they danced throughout the room..
His gaze of course narrowed at the twi'lek, he didnt find it an oddity, considering where this was, curious collections of creative consortiums were a high probability occurance..but he instead just responded with a smirk and a little shake of his head.
"A Neccessity to continue my work, Their expense is something I could.." He paused...and canted his head...before delivering the line about as dryly as aged forehead skin from a Ferrazid. "Foot...considering their utility." He drew his gaze back to his drink, returning to work on it.
"Taxing non fun stuff means a lowering of credits comming in..so of course they would tax what people want."
Aniath

The pureblood raised the glass with his drink of choice with a solemn motion, eyes trailing along the counter as it became more and more apparent this day was not going to be like the last. The golden piercings shimmered with the licks of light as they danced throughout the room..
His gaze of course narrowed at the twi'lek, he didnt find it an oddity, considering where this was, curious collections of creative consortiums were a high probability occurance..but he instead just responded with a smirk and a little shake of his head.
"A Neccessity to continue my work, Their expense is something I could.." He paused...and canted his head...before delivering the line about as dryly as aged forehead skin from a Ferrazid. "Foot...considering their utility." He drew his gaze back to his drink, returning to work on it.
"Taxing non fun stuff means a lowering of credits comming in..so of course they would tax what people want."
_
I like to RP
_
If ya see any of my dragons you like! hit me up!
"Oooh, both sides and their taxes can rot for all I care." she grumbles, her cheeks puffing outward. You wouldn't think she was almost thirty, considering how she acted.

"That said," she spins on the stool, the rings around her ankles and wrists jangling as she pulls her knees up to her chest, hooking her heels onto the very edge of the stool she sat on, staring at him with ocean-blue eyes. "What, by the force, brings a pure blood so far from Korriban and the Academy. Aren't almost all of you force sensitive?"

She paused, and looked him over, her eyes narrowing, "Though, admittedly, you are pretty enough to be some Hutt's favorite little lordling... Which is a very uncomfortable thought. Oh... please tell me you're not here wooing a hutt."
"Oooh, both sides and their taxes can rot for all I care." she grumbles, her cheeks puffing outward. You wouldn't think she was almost thirty, considering how she acted.

"That said," she spins on the stool, the rings around her ankles and wrists jangling as she pulls her knees up to her chest, hooking her heels onto the very edge of the stool she sat on, staring at him with ocean-blue eyes. "What, by the force, brings a pure blood so far from Korriban and the Academy. Aren't almost all of you force sensitive?"

She paused, and looked him over, her eyes narrowing, "Though, admittedly, you are pretty enough to be some Hutt's favorite little lordling... Which is a very uncomfortable thought. Oh... please tell me you're not here wooing a hutt."
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