Azrael Rhys (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
mercifulsith) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
boxofmisfits2021-06-10 07:52 am
mercifulsith) wrote in boxofmisfits2021-06-10 07:52 am
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An Imperial of old might call this planet a lawless and chaotic place. Azrael would not. It wasn't the orderly cities of the Sith Empire, with its military presence and carefully maintained control, but it was peaceful. The arguments were over simple, petty things, and fights were rare. Crimes most certainly happened, as they did everywhere where any significant number of people lived, but not with such frequency as to be a problem, and they were most commonly quickly taken care of.
It was peaceful.
That was why the intent to kill stuck out so much. That sense of something being wrong had been persistent throughout the day. Darkness spreading through the light threads of the Force that bound all living things together. His unease had been noted by his employees, and though his cantina had been set to be open until late into the night, he sent everyone home early after telling them all to be careful.
They didn't understand, of course. But they trusted him, which was what mattered.
It was dark outside by the time he could feel a familiar mind as he reached out with the Force to try and determine just what was setting him off. Closed off, but familiar nonetheless. But something was wrong- he could tell. The familiar mind was closed off, but there was a second one- different, but similar enough- and a third that felt open. Human. And that mind was fearful.
The red Sith didn't need to stand around sensing the aggression that hung in the air once he'd zeroed in on the two Chiss minds and the human one. With an easy movement he'd retrieved his lightsaber and was out the door, rushing through mostly empty streets.
By the time he came upon the scene they were surrounded, and as though Azrael needed further prompting, seeing some thug point a blaster at Thrass was more than enough to tell him that he didn't need to show any restraint here. In a split second the blade of his lightsaber flared to life and as he flung it forward, the thug lost both his blaster and his hand, and with Force in his step, the Sith had leapt into the thick of things, pulling his lightsaber back to him- now in between this group of thugs and Thrass and the other Chiss and the human. There was an outcry as two thugs reacted by shooting at the newly arrived opponent- each blaster bolt deflected back at them, hitting them in the thigh and arm respectively. A swipe of his hand sent one large alien aggressor sideways and into a wall with enough force to crack it- and crack some bones too by the sound of it- followed by getting slammed down into the ground hard enough that he wouldn't be getting up for a while.
Two men faltered and ran, one was down and out, three were nursing injuries and scrambling away as quickly as they could, knowing that they had lost any sort of upper hand. Azrael's gaze swept over the battlefield, until his eyes landed upon a final man caught somewhere between contemplating continuing this attack or running. He raised his blaster, and the invisible grip of the Force immediately tightening around his throat likely told him that the correct answer had been to run however good the payday would have been, hoisted into the air, clawing at his throat as he tried to breathe, the wild flail becoming feeble squirms until his entire body went limp- unconscious, not dead. Only then did Azrael let him drop into a heap on the ground. His lightsaber was returned to his side as he immediately turned to the two Chiss and the human man, and his demeanor went from that commanding presence to something much warmer and worried, gaze flicking to the two unfamiliar men briefly to make sure they weren't actually injured and in need of medical attention, before focusing on Thrass as he approached, reaching out to touch his face and brush a few strands of dark hair away gently, looking at him intently.
"Are you alright? Are you hurt?"
He could still feel trouble brewing. Whatever this was, whoever those thugs were, there were likely more of them. But right now, things were calm and he would fret a little.
It was peaceful.
That was why the intent to kill stuck out so much. That sense of something being wrong had been persistent throughout the day. Darkness spreading through the light threads of the Force that bound all living things together. His unease had been noted by his employees, and though his cantina had been set to be open until late into the night, he sent everyone home early after telling them all to be careful.
They didn't understand, of course. But they trusted him, which was what mattered.
It was dark outside by the time he could feel a familiar mind as he reached out with the Force to try and determine just what was setting him off. Closed off, but familiar nonetheless. But something was wrong- he could tell. The familiar mind was closed off, but there was a second one- different, but similar enough- and a third that felt open. Human. And that mind was fearful.
The red Sith didn't need to stand around sensing the aggression that hung in the air once he'd zeroed in on the two Chiss minds and the human one. With an easy movement he'd retrieved his lightsaber and was out the door, rushing through mostly empty streets.
By the time he came upon the scene they were surrounded, and as though Azrael needed further prompting, seeing some thug point a blaster at Thrass was more than enough to tell him that he didn't need to show any restraint here. In a split second the blade of his lightsaber flared to life and as he flung it forward, the thug lost both his blaster and his hand, and with Force in his step, the Sith had leapt into the thick of things, pulling his lightsaber back to him- now in between this group of thugs and Thrass and the other Chiss and the human. There was an outcry as two thugs reacted by shooting at the newly arrived opponent- each blaster bolt deflected back at them, hitting them in the thigh and arm respectively. A swipe of his hand sent one large alien aggressor sideways and into a wall with enough force to crack it- and crack some bones too by the sound of it- followed by getting slammed down into the ground hard enough that he wouldn't be getting up for a while.
Two men faltered and ran, one was down and out, three were nursing injuries and scrambling away as quickly as they could, knowing that they had lost any sort of upper hand. Azrael's gaze swept over the battlefield, until his eyes landed upon a final man caught somewhere between contemplating continuing this attack or running. He raised his blaster, and the invisible grip of the Force immediately tightening around his throat likely told him that the correct answer had been to run however good the payday would have been, hoisted into the air, clawing at his throat as he tried to breathe, the wild flail becoming feeble squirms until his entire body went limp- unconscious, not dead. Only then did Azrael let him drop into a heap on the ground. His lightsaber was returned to his side as he immediately turned to the two Chiss and the human man, and his demeanor went from that commanding presence to something much warmer and worried, gaze flicking to the two unfamiliar men briefly to make sure they weren't actually injured and in need of medical attention, before focusing on Thrass as he approached, reaching out to touch his face and brush a few strands of dark hair away gently, looking at him intently.
"Are you alright? Are you hurt?"
He could still feel trouble brewing. Whatever this was, whoever those thugs were, there were likely more of them. But right now, things were calm and he would fret a little.