Log:Question Game

The Question Game

OOC Date: November 1, 2016
Location: Lost Circus, Lehtera Street Nar Shaddaa
Participants: Naelyn, PR-3742(Pyre)

It was an action filled night, lots of dancing and laughing and revelry, there are still a few baskets of goodies scattered among the pillows all over the ground where people were settled the night before. A certain androgynous dancer wears a simple dark grey tunic that reaches down to his knees, oversized enough to slip off a shoulder stylishly, he is probably wearing short shorts under it, feet bare, long hair brushed and pulled back in a single braid as he is on his knees on the stage, idly scrubbing at something with a white rag.

The cadenced sound of polished white plated boots striking the ground likely make the approaching Stormtrooper known to Naelyn and any others in the immediate area before that polished white armor comes into view. The same expressionless helmet is worn, tying this trooper to his brother and making him all but indistinguishable were it not for his size. The large tank on his back marks him as a flametrooper, though the nozzle is currently 'holstered' where it hangs hooked to the side of the tank. In addition to that, a shouldered blaster rifle hangs from his left shoulder while a stun baton hangs from his hip. He currently bares no weapon, however, a simple datapad in his hands that has seen better days.

Naelyn looks up from his cleaning at the sound, turning slightly to watch the entrance to the tent with a slight lift of his eyebrow and a soft smile. He carefully gets to his knees and hops off the stage, folding his hands in front of him and bowing deeply. "Greetings...I am afraid you missed such a wonderful show the other night, we may repeat it however. How can I help you today?" That voice is still soft and lilting with that purr in his sss amd rr sounds due to his accented Basic.

"Greetings, Citizen," the Stormtrooper says, voice distorted by the vocorder inside that pristine white helmet. "I am looking for someone by the name of Naelyn. My sources have him as the owner of this circus. Is that you?" The Trooper stops directly before the dancer, hands easing down to either side while he holds the data pad.

Naelyn gives a slow nod, pressing his hands to his chest and extending them in a gesture to himself. "Yes, I am called Naelyn." He glances towards the data pad and then back at the storm trooper. "May I ask the name of who wishes to know?" A tilt of his head. "Forgive my manners, would you care for something to eat or drink?"

There is a shake of that white helmet before the large Stormtrooper says, "No thank you. Acceptance if such while on duty is against regulation." The Stormtrooper does square his shoulders before he says, "I am Master Sergeant PR-3742, and I am on assignment regarding the contacts found on this datapad which is believed to belong to a known war criminal. A green twi'lek. Likely makes use of cybernetic augmentation in the arms and legs. Your contact information was present on this datapad." As if in evidence, PR-3742 holds the pad up.

Naelyn eyes the datapad for a few moments, blinking and looking back to the stormtrooper. "What is your assignment regarding those you find in the contacts list? Many people have me in their contact list due to my...unique talents." He gives a little smile. "But if you have questions, please ask."

"It is believed that this Twi'lek is in league with, or at the least in contact with the terrorist group that attacked Lord Eebua's Starport and murdered those civilians present. The same group that released false propaganda to vilainize my soldiers the last two evenings." There is a pause as Pyre turns his head to gaze around the tent before saying, "As of right now, there are no orders directly related to the contacts on this pad other than their questioning. It all depends upon the level of cooperation."

Naelyn nods slowly and just quirks an eyebrow. "Dear Master Sergeant, you continue to talk to me about your duties, but you have asked no direct questions. How can I cooperate with anything if nothing has been presented to clearly respond to. You have your beliefs, you have your leads, but unless you have traced the posted propaganda to this specific datapad what grounds do you really have to tie the two together, further more, beyond knowing that getting your tech specialists to track the signal of the sliced broadcasts which...is relatively simple...what is it that you want from me?"

The Stormtrooper stares down at Naelyn and shakes his head. "Your friend, this Twi'lek, is a known war criminal. He along with the terrorist that attacked the starport and was featured in this propaganda video attacked a First Order outpost on Sullust several months ago. So I am not attempting to tie the Twi'lek or this pad to those broadcasts, I am linking him to them. I am here, asking what your relation to this man is, and would like for you to tell me where he can be located."

"Green Twi'leks are not rare, so tell me the name of the man you seek so I do not send you after the wrong one. I will not have innocent blood on my hands." He begins to saunter closer to the stage, standing on his tip toes to tug a knapsack closer so he can slip out q sleek datapad. "With the correct name or image, I can find almost anybody...it is...part of my skillset. You can ask Lord Eebua." Naelyn moves slowly however to make sure the trooper knows he is not going for a weapon.

"Hex, is the name that we found on the datapad. I do not have an image of the man with me, though one can be procured. As I said, he is likely using cybernetic augmentation and is likely to have some manner of burn scarring." Pyre paces the dancer, his hands remaining in the beaten datapad. "We also found the names of other such criminals currently wanted by the Hutt Lord. I do hope that you are not harboring such fugitives here in this place."

Naelyn exhales softly and rolls his eyes. "Hex is not a Twi'lek name." Then he just looks at the storm trooper as he powers his device on, idly tapping at the screen. "I am not harboring anyone but I was not aware than the First Order is now the force acting as thugs and mercenaries at the beck and call of Hutt Lords seeking to collect debts...." A slow shake of his head. "Why come here first and not to others?"

Pyre shakes his head again and says, "My patience is growing thin with these insults, Naelyn. I do not know if Hex is a Twi'lek name or not. I said it was the name found in the ownership documentation on this Datapad. I am asking for your assistance, not your insults. Do I look like the thug of a Hutt? Have I spoken anything in my time being here to make myself seem interested in collecting bounties? I am looking for fugitives. Murderers of children. Spare me your condescension. These people are not simple people who have stolen a drink from the Hutt and he is now seeking to have their legs broken."

Naelyn just takes a deep breath, eyeing Prye with not defiance and not fear but something critical, dark, and blank, chest rising and falling slowly as he just stares up at Pyre, and something snaps in that fragile framework that is his good graces as his voice grows softer and the purred sss grow more pronounced. "Insults....I have not yet begun to insult you...that would suggest I had need to feel superior or somehow better than you, no...my beautiful faceless beast. I would love to feel your arms around me, to see just how hard you could slap and handle me, see how easily I could break in your grip before recovering and baring myself for you once more...again...and again...and again....but insults and condescension are so far....away from my mind." He bites his bottom lip and grips his datapad more tightly, looking down with a soft giggle and collapsing to his knees as he lays back slowly stretching out a leg and idly tapping into his data pad. "Shhhh...I shall make you a present and all will be answered...." He makes a soft sound in the back of his throat, taking a deep breath. "Just tell me again what you want....Master and I shall make sure it is wrapped for you all pretty like. But...but I cannot tell you where the green one is because he is hidden in the mixed bag of nuts..." A soft laugh and shake of his head. "Hmm..lets see what we can fiiind..." Tap tap tap.

Pyre's head twitches to the left at the banter sent his way from Naelyn. Almost a tick that proceeds a rapid finger clench on the free hand not holding the battered datapad. His free hand lifts to slide that datapad into his utility belt and then drifts to rest atop the handle of the business end of his incinerator. He does not lift the weapon free of the hook, but when he speaks once more there is a deathly quality to his voice, "Do not make me hurt you, Naelyn. I have come peacefully to request information on these fugitives. My patience is wearing extremely thin with you..."

Naelyn looks up at Pyre, tossing his datapad aside as the screen is now blank and flickery and he gets to his knees, looking the storm trooper over slowly as he shifts his weight to his hands and knees, spine and hips undulating in a faint slither like motion as he just watches the trooper, eyes darting to the incinerator and then back to Pyre and back again curiously. "Do you think I am resisting Master?" A hint of a pout. "I have myself lowered at your feet and I am trying, I am trying to give you what you ask...I want to be good, but I cannot tell you what I do not know."

Pyre's hand grips the polished white butt of the incinerator as his attention shifts toward that datapad that has gone blank before shifting quickly to pull the riot control baton from his left hip. His gloved fingers move across the controls and squeeze the trigger that powers the 'humane' weapon, electricity arcing across the end. "You are in this pad as a contact of this Twi'lek! Do not play me for a fool!" he barks harshly.

PR-3742 wields his Sonn-Blas Z6 Riot Control Baton to bear and with the press of a button the baton comes to life with a growling electric field!

"I never said I was not in the contacts." Naelyn responds with chuckle, tearing up and giving a shake of his head. "But I am a slut, an entertainer, a companion to many...why would you think I am special to this Twi'lek enough to know exactly where he is? If he is drunk, there are bars. If he is injured, there are clinics. I do not wish to play you as a fool..." He crawls forward slowly. "But I can play many many...games." He presses a finger to his lips. "The questions game is my favorite, but you must ask the right questions or I just will not know..."

"Is that right?" Pyre growls. "And is that why you were involved with those terrorists that killed those poor people on the Starport the night of the execution? You just happened to slice into the live feed if the Hutt at the same time as the attack happened? And you just so happen to be associates with another known war criminal?"

Naelyn smiles slowly and giggles softly. "There was so much blood and burning and bumbling and blundering the chaos was dripping with senseless purpose...." Then no smile at all. "Yes, I just so happened to slice it. The attack took me by surprise and ruined any chance that we the people had to look upon the faces of the execs who have been abusing us. The resistance are not saviors, they are remnants of a spirit that the First Order will wipe out. Freedom and choice." Then he slowly shakes his head. "I am not associates with a war criminal. I am the brother to someone who you have already broken. I do not recognize your war...because petty skirmishes will not decide the fate of this galaxy...the real war will move moons, shatter stars and collapse planets and that...is the beauty worth basking in..." He gasps and moans softly tracing a finger over his bottom lip. "Then you can come to see me and ask me a about who I know."

With a hungry electric growl, PR-3742 swings his Sonn-Blas Riot Control Baton toward Naelyn!

There is a growl of growing electrical charge as Pyre swings across wildly with the stun baton, the weapon swinging for the dancer's head as the soldier behind the helmet growls in anger, "Silence! You know NOTHING of my war or my soldiers. Nothing of the virtue of our mission you fool!"

Naelyn smoothly twists and flips backwards to avoid the strike, looking up at the stormtrooper with a hiss and a grin. "There is the beautiful beast, the monster that haunts dreams..." He purrs softly. "C'mon then, tell me of your war, your virtue, your mission...give me a reason to lick your boots and show my belly, precious."

With a hungry electric growl, PR-3742 swings his Sonn-Blas Riot Control Baton toward Naelyn!

Pyre presses the attack, one big boot after the other stomping into the ground as he follows the flipping and twisting Naelyn as he dodges away from that crackling electrical current. A roar of anger sounds through that vocoder, the helmet's sound systems squealing slightly in protest at the expression of fury as Pyre swings the weapon completely around his head and continues the arc around at the end of his arm's extension, swinging low for Naelyn's ear. "Honor! Devotion! Power!" he yells.

Naelyn moves with a serpentine grace, but there are some things that are unavoidable as he never lets his eyes leave the faceless face of the storm trooper, a flicker of a darkness in his gaze as he smile slowly just before that baton slams into a highly sensitive ear, electricity flickering and force knocking him sideways as he crumples onto his side, looking oddly at peace, and younger.