Open RP A Fist Full of Dollars

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Salis D'aar, Bakura

The hum of hovercraft filled the night air and the stars were blinded by the neon lights of the city. Salis D'aar was the base of operations for the one the criminal underworld had started to call, "The Marquis of Death". He was known for being brutal and violent leaving a trail of death behind him as he went. He was ruthlessly efficient in his killing and execution of any jobs he pulled. He was wanted in connection for several high end robberies and assassinations. An award for his death or capture was a generous amount.

Andras stood back in the shadows of the already dark alley as he watched the two thugs he hired beat a dock worker. "What platform is the shipment arriving on?" A thug growled.

Blood seeped out of the workers mouth. "OK...ok, it's arriving on 36B." The worker said between breaths. He fell to ground once the workers released him.

Andras exited the shadows. His black suit and red shirt always attracted eyes every where he went. Andras was not a small man, not only was he a taller human but he had a muscular and broad stature. He stood out, and was remembered. Upon looking at his face though was a blank expression of the helmet that he wore. Only four small thin optical lens broke up the darkness. He reached down and picked the worker up, throwing them back against the wall of the alley.

"Please, please, just let me go. I got two kids at home." The worker begged.

Andras reached out to the force, hand outstretched and attempted to force Choke the worker. Nothing. He was still blocked for some reason. He enjoyed using the force. He enjoyed the rush of power he felt when using it. He hated being blocked from it. In his anger, his hatred shifted onto the dock worker. A vibroblade quickly sliced itself across the abdomen of the worker then plunged itself into the throat right at the base of the skull. The worker was dead before he hit the ground. Another body in the wake of Andras' hatred. He cleaned the knife on the workers body.

"Let's go." Andras turned to exit the alley when a couple of blaster bolts lit up the alley dropping his two thugs.

"Marquis! Stop right there." Andras stopped with his back still toward the voice. "Get on your knees." Andras reached out to the force one more time. It was painful and actively fought him the whole time. He tried to turn the pain into his favor, only for a brief second was he able to sense where the two men stood behind him. They make the mistake of being within his striking range. Apparently two overconfident bounty hunters wanted his bounty.

Andras slowly lowered himself until he was close to the ground then spun quickly diving to one side. Blaster bolts landed where he once was. As soon as he came out of his roll, two throwing knives with pintpoint accuracy hit their marks and the bounty hunters fell. Andras walked to their bodies drawing his own blaster double tapping each of their chests after retrieving his knives. He walked back to his thugs reclaiming the credits he paid them earlier that night. He would've killed them anyway so it didn't bother him. Andras exited the alley holding two fingers to his temple as a headache came on from using the force. I need a drink he thought to himself.

Andras sat in the corner table at a very rough bar, again standing out from the other customers simply based on his attire. A fancy looking cocktail sat mostly drank in front of him. Now he waited for some people to show. He had put out word that he was looking to start a crew.
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"There once was a gold-digging slut-"

It was always surprising how a single voice raised in song could filter above the teeming masses.

"Whose mouth was as large as her gut-"

It was likely no surprise that the words were slurred, but perhaps it was some surprise that the man singing was actually in tune.

"A man thought he'd get tossed
But instead he got lost-
Lads, don't stick your dick in a Hutt!"

A mug of questionably foaming liquid was plunked down on the table across from Andras, and from the state of the person holding it, it wasn't the first one this evening. He was large for a human, the sort of large that people didn't expect to see on a human at all - nearly seven feet tall and probably half as wide, with arm muscles that would rival most people's thighs and some people's waists.

He took a seat, which seemed almost abusive, but the chairs in this sort of place were used to people of all sizes and this one barely even squeaked in protest.

"You." His eyes met Andras', a surprisingly piercing blue that no one expected with his dark coloration. "You're lookin' for a crew. And you've got money."

One of these seemed to be more important than the other. The man transferred the mug to his other hand, and stuck out the first, which probably could have doubled as a shovel.

"Name's Kellan Rexx. You can pay me in cash."
Andras sat coolly in his chair, and annoyingly brushed a drop of the man's beverage off his suit jacket. Without acknowledging the man's outstretched hand, Andras glared right back into the man's eyes through his helmet.

"Besides your size and simple mindedness, what skills or qualities do you possess that would be of use to me? Why should I choose you over that Dowutin in the corner." Andras with a small motion of his hand, gestured to a large, burly Dowutin lounged in the corner

Just because the man was large didn't mean that he could use his size successfully and operate efficiently. Andras wasn't looking for just anybody of the street. He had goals and targets in mind, and he wanted beings that could contribute.