Log:The Twins, Part 4: Open House
Open House
OOC Date: September 24th, 2019
Location: Lothal
Participants: Sajin, Rheisa Dirleel, and Jehni'va Cihn as GM
Dramatic Upscroll:
The search continues for the lost art of TROMETH HIRK BWU'KEN! Following a harrowing venture into gang violence on MALASTARE, lovesick dug YORTO'JA has turned on the ASYUI-EN DAI GANG and has been living aboard the FOOL'S ERRAND with the promise to assist efforts to retrieve the art. He has explained that the dug BODWA of the YUKKTI GANG was hired by a mysterious benefactor to clear out the vault of the ASYUI'EN DAI'S benefactor on MALASTARE and bring the contents to LOTHAL. The ASTUI'EN DAI caught BODWA on LOTHAL, but before they could make off with the goods he stole, they were attacked! The man let the dugs go, so long as they turned over certain items - all of it art. The ASYUI-EN DAI, intent on revenge before the recent attack on their base, identified the man as DEXLAN DEVIGERA, an unbelievably wealthy anx living on LOTHAL.
JEHNi'VA CIHN has brought a retinue of help to break into DEXLAN DEVIGERA'S mansion, locate a vault hidden in the basement, and liberate the lost artwork of TROMETH HIRK BWU'KEN once and for all...
"...So we get in, get th'art, and get out. Easy enough, right?" Jehni'va Cihn asks over her shoulder. She's rented a speeder that is currently weaving its way through Lothal's streets. Devigera's mansion is visible even from here, looming with wanton extravagence: a spire of purposeless wealth. The building is surrounded by an electrified fence, and the front yard is crisscrossed by barriers that contain a variety of exotic, wild animals. "Even has a mena-jerry." Jehni'va comments, her palms going sweaty as she parks the speeder in an alley within sight of the mansion.
Yorto'ja sits in the passenger seat, humming a throaty tune and bouncing the holo-pad, containing the schematics of the mansion, in one foot. "We should go in da back, I tink. But da gate will be a problem." He comments, vaulting out of the speeder once they come to a stop. Jehn gives her trash mongers a final, nervous grin. "Alright, I'll let you lot off here... Try not t'get arrested? If y'need a speedy evac, just let me know." She taps her comm device. "Good luck!"
Sajin is wearing his flight suit, DL-44 strapped to his hip. The Powerarmor he had would have been too much for this particular mission. He looks around absently, watching the buildings and people as they go by, dreamy Hazel eyes enticed by the wonder of it all. "Oh... time to go?" He opens the door and hops out, making sure to take the time to stretch. "So ah..." He bends forwards down to his toes. "A Gate? Well, I'm not really any good at that... well I guess I could climb it and unlock it from the other side." He then stretches side to side before walking around the speeder to join the others. "I'm drek with computers."
FLAPFWITTYJINGLECLATTERFLAPFLAP
That's the sound of all Rheisa's finery whipping around/behind her in the wind in transit. At least, the portions of drapery that she didn't manage to clutch up in hands. She's the last to climb out, having a need to reattach one of the headtail sleeves and recenter the glitzy little bauble on display there. "Dekslan Devigerrra..." she mumbles the name to self, watching the horned head of some penned creature bob around over the top of the shrubbery. "If gate is one problem, are animals not another? Is best to see what live around house, no? Is food, or will make US food?" The notion of 'pet' just doesn't in the forefront of her brain.
"If da animals make a problem, den Yorto'ja will make dem a feast fitting for Rheisa Dirleel. But in cages, maybe they not bother us." The dug promises, dreamy-eyed, as the three depart Jehni'va and her speeder. As seen upon approach, beyond the tall, electrified fence that surrounds the sprawling, verdant fields of the Devigera estate is a mansion of white stone. Yorto'ja leads them towards the back gate - which, in itself, isn't sketchy: the street runs along there, and sometimes people pass, not sparing them a glance. Throughout the back lawn, statues are artistically scattered; tall, posing, maybe even vogueing. There is a keycode on the back gate, and two guards are visible alongside the mansion, moving in a lazy patrol. They're hired muscle in too-fine armor; they are there for show just as much as any statue or wild animal.
The most disconcerting part of all of this, are the calls of those caged animals in the front yard that can be heard from the group's current position. Yorto'ja scratches at the loose skin of his throat, giving a frustrated gurgle as he stops there. "I don't tink I can crack dis." He huffs, echoing Sajin's earlier sentiments as he waves a shriveled foot at the keycode, glancing nervously at the guard retinue. They haven't paused to consider the three strange beings at the back gate, yet.
"Well you might want to try again, because..." He glances back over his shoulder towards the Guards, "They're going to come back this way." He glances to Rheisa to see if she can make heads or tails of the keypad. He lets his fingers wrapp lightly on the wooden handle of his DL-44 as he looks back to the guards once more.
It's true, that most of the path to Rheisa's heart is paved by promises of food and provisions. She's a simple kind of lady. Simple enough that she's about as useful as one of those front yard beasts at poking code into the pad. 1234. Stumped. Her brow crinkles lightly beneath the weightless swoop of chain hanging there and a wary look goes up, over shoulder. The beautified shawl shrouding her montrals isn't so thick that it negates the echolocative sensitivities completely. That, and - believe it or not - there is an ear hidden under a membrane somewhere in the basal folds of the trifecta of lekku.
"I can do two things, here." She whispers. "I can make them see me - distrract with lies" (everyone knows what a great liar Rheisa is, right???) "Give you more times. Or. I can shoot. Is quiet shooting." A shrug of some draped layers reveals an ornate bow and small quiver of arrows strapped over her back.
Sajin and Rheisa have both noticed the lazy pattern to the guards patrol: they linger in the front, they move down both sides of the mansion, cross at the back, and then move back up in the opposite direction. It leaves a brief opening for the gang to get the gat open and get inside, if they want to avoid a confrontation. "Quiet shot would be good." Yorto'ja hums as the guards come into view again, and the dug turns abruptly away from the gate to point up the street, at nothing. "Ah! Look at dat, huh! Dey don't make dem like dat back home!" He continues on in this manner until the guards criss-cross their way back to the front. "Maybe shoot da... Keycode ting - dis. Maybe work, maybe not? What you tink, big guy?"
Sajin looks to Rheisa, "We got some time left. They're not quite back yet." The handsome Hapan puts his hands on his hips as he studies the lock, one hand moving up to scratch the side of his head as he thinks. He presses in one code, then another, and another. Nothing. "If I shoot it, it's going to be loud." Which defeats their stealthy purpose for being here. He wasn't adverse to shooting his way out though. He keeps punching in random numbers, met with a red blink and obnoxious tone. Then, once frustrated enough he just beats on the keypad until that tone goes even horrible, then stops. When Sajin stops he sighs and lets it go and then suddenly. Clink... it pops open. The dullard blinks, "Really?" He should have just brought a hammer... or buckets. He opens the gate for Yorto and Rheisa, "Ladies first..." He doesn't know what Yorto is because he's dumb.
Yorto needn't finish his sentence before Rheisa is slipping the bow off shoulder and fingering the feathery tuft of a 'holstered' arrow. By the time Sajin's freed their point of ingress, she's got the arrow nocked and is staring down the line of sight, calculating trajectory with more than one sense in play. Like she's oft to say:
Rrrreesa do not miss.
But the guards are spared, for now. The highpitched release of lock sees her lowering the arrow and slackening bowstring toward ground. "Lady first, and Yorto next," Rheisa invites the Dug along to dwell in her shadow, possibly flushing some darker shade of headtail stripes beneath all that finery. Is she perhaps basking in Yorto's approval and encouragement of her primitive methods? Yes. I mean, that /dulap/ is just rockin her sense of fascination. Still.
In she slinks.
The dug has been smitten since that bar scene, so the Togruta has a wide-eyed audience as she strings her bow. Yorto'ja's throat inflates, just a little, until a banging sound beside him turns that rubbery muzzle towards Sajin. "Well, dat was far from delicate but it gets da job done!" With a gurgle of laughter, he waddles through the gate after Rheisa, dropping to all fours to sprint through the statues and immaculate ground foliage to reach the back door. Luckily, the guards are lazy - they have no reason to believe that this place would come under attack! They are there for show, and it's easy to become distracted by the caged animals in the front yard. So, the back door is easily accessible once the gate is bypassed. Yorto peers at the mechanism - blinking dumbly at the door. "It is not locked, I do not tink." They don't have time to ponder - he presses a button beside the door, and it opens, allowing them to slip inside the mansion before the guards convene in the back once more.
The inside of Devigera's estate is just as lavish as the outside. White stone walls and pillars are veined with golds and crystals of every color imaginable. A grand staircase of a deep, red wood spirals upwards from the of the golden-tiled foyer in which the group now finds themselves. There are three doors to adjacent rooms: from the schematic, they know these to be the library, the kitchen, and a trophy room. A chandelier hangs from the ceiling, and rare works of art adorn every wall, pedestal, and shelf.
Sajin slips in with the rest of them, making sure to close the door behind him. He looks around carefully before he moves over to the Dug and goes over the blue prints. He points to something on the upstairs blue print. "I'm going to go up there and see where that is. Too small for Art but who knows." He shrugs and starts to slink (he's not overly good at it) Towards the stairs.
"Trophy is like prize, yes?" Rheisa whisper-speaks in bent-over fashion to put it in the Dug's ear before turning about to confirm with Sajin as the taller man goes by. "I go there."
The arrow peeps first into the room, followed by an advancing bow, hand, arm...one eye peers around suspiciously before the rest of Rheisa follows, lowering her weapon in favor of putting those fingers to more tactile use. Because there is SO much to admire! Sculptures abound in this room - sculptures sculpted in similar style of similar material, this much she takes note. The veins of exotic gypryst pulsing red throughout one of the artworks draws her nearer for a /very/ closeup inspection. Very. This means touching. It's only because of the gypryst that she spends more time petting the weird hair of the sculpted anx than the actual hair of the disembodied animal heads stacked in a far corner. Although those /do/ get their moment of her attention. Mostly sniffing and a stealthy yoink of some whiskers.
"You are a prize to see." The dug grins. "I will look for different prize in here." He points to the kitchen and waddles in that direction. The trophy room looks to have been the ego project of a hunter in a past life, but it holds a new purpose now. The hunting trophies have all been stowed in a case in the back of the trophy room, making room for sculptures. They are beautiful works of synthstone... And one of gypryst. The very material in the lone 'Twin' sculpture which brought all of them here. Rheisa is discovering this, along with some other key details. All of the sculptures bear the mark of the same individual - one whose name is etched into a plaque beneath the mounted head of a saber cat in the back of the room: Nolox'tur Devigera.
As Sajin climbs the stairs to investigate a strange object in the bedroom, he will abruptly find that he is not alone. "N-Now you'll stop right there!" A bardottan stands at the top of the stairs. He is dressed in an impeccably pressed and fitted formal suit, a silken hat sits atop his small head, and he is shakily pointing a blaster at the intruder. "You are trespassing on the p-p-p-property of the Devigera family!"
From the kitchen, there is a clatter as Yorto'ja obliviously helps himself to Dexlan Devigera's food stores.
Sajin creeps, and creeps, and creeps some more. Though, he stops suddenly when the Bardottan orders him. Hands jolt up into a non-threatening position and he turns to face the creature. "Woah woah woah, man. I'm just the Janitor looking for the closet. You're out of Lemon Spledge, you gota buy soem more man." It's probably the worst attempt at bluffing and if Yan was here he might cringe, especially with that monster of a blaster on his thigh and the vibroknife on his belt. The noise from Yorto in the kitchen isn't helping Sajin's case either.
"Devi...gerra." Rheisa sounds out after a few attempts at reading the plaque at the saber cat's base. "Nolock-ks-turrr." Pause. "Is family?" Rheisa frowns, taking a second look around at the sculptures while the wheels turn in brain. "Very similar to 'Twin'..." she murmurs, then fumbles a moment with datapad beneath all that drapery and shawl bits to get fresh eyes on the simplified schematic. Library. Is books. Is not Rheisa's forte. Umak's uppity preschool professors would agree.
A few seconds later, the Togruta is back in the foyer, casting suspicious looks to Yorto's noise in the kitchen, en route to....the library.
The voices from the upper level finally catch Yorto'ja's attention, and the dug waddles back to the foyer with a strip of raw meat hanging from his long face. He slurps, and it disappears, slapping his cheek a little as it does. He offers another long strip of the pink, slimy mystery meat out towards Rheisa as she exits the trophy room. "Da pretty one sounds like he can handle dis." He decides nodding up towards the sounds of confrontation at the top of the stairs, pressing a button to activate the schematics again. Yorto tries something, but it doesn't work - he slaps the device with a grunt of frustration as he follows Rheisa towards the library.
"Janitor." The butler repeats, his blaster still shaking as its leveled at the Hapan's head. This handsome lad certainly sounds like a janitor, but - no, wait a minute! "N-now you stay right there! I am in ch-ch-charge of the upkeep of the Devigera estate and we do not employ j-janitors! What do you want? I will call the guards!" Belatedly, the bardottan glances at the weapon in his own frail hands. "And I know how to use this!" He promises.
He most certainly does not.
In the library, all four walls of this room are shelved and covered with books. In the center of the well-lit library, a plush, round rug is surrounded by thick, cushy armchairs. The archway leading back to the entry room is hewn from blue stone and encrusted with crystals of every color. "Do you tink dese rich oda actually read dis much?" Yorto'ja scoffs, arching a fleshy eyebrow. "Or is all for show?"
Sajin blinks, lowing his hands a bit, they were starting to get tired stretched strait out like they were. "OKAY! I'm not the Janitor. I am however the Local...ah..." He glances towards the bedroom where the mysterious thing is, "Whatever /that/ is inspector... I have the authority of the local assesors board and everything. For real, real!" He turns and just walks into the bedroom to inspect the place, not minding the butler one bit. He didn't feel like trying to knock out the poor shakey fellow at the moment. He knew green when he saw it. This was already such a harrowing experiance... why does Sajin care so much for his wellbeing? Stupid.
A heartfelt thrum of thanks rewards Yorto's generosity, re: meat matters. Rheisa doesn't slurp her portion, so much as neatly fold it up, shove onto bristled tongue, and swallow mostly whole. Followed by a dainty finger lick. Gotta get under dem talons. "It sound like a small someone," Rheisa concurs, because Sajin - as they know - is a big someone.
"Do you need see picture of the sister, again?" The artsy alien inquires while reaching a hand overhead on her way in to touch all the pretty nooks and crannies of the crystaline-rocky archway. Her fingertips rub together, pilling up a thin veil of dust between them. She wipes them clean on hip and shoulders the bow anew. To go to ground.
"Is clean, down here..." she points out the drag marks on the rumpled bit of rug, tracking from armchair to bookshelf. Something moved...in this way." Rheisa creeps after the drag marks to the shelf and snoops around that section of the shelving. "Do not know anyone who read dis much," she belatedly answers the Dug, eyes glazing over the meaningless titles. "Maybe Umak's teacher do. Think she is so smart..." there's definitely a note of scorn in her growly grumble there. And then a chirp of delight. "Is pretty picture on dis--" Rheisa fingers the book that's slipped out of alignment with the rest and pulls it out the rest of the way to look at the cover.
"You - don't - hey!" The bardottan butler sputters and fumbles his blaster, nearly dropping it, as Sajin walks on past. "Now wait just one m-minute!" He trots after the Hapan into the grand master bedroom. It takes up the majority of the upper level of the mansion: sweeping curtains, lavish artwork, intricate - oh, hey, a safe! There's a safe against the far wall. "That's - don't touch that!" The bardottan warns. He's given up on the guise of intimidation, and the blaster pistol hangs limp at his side. "...Please?"
"Look at me!" Yorto'ja calls, lounging across one of the large, plush armchairs of the library. An empty drink glass was set on one of the small end tables, and the dug now postures with it, crossing his arms in the 'richest' pose he can. "I am rich oda now. Where are da servants? Moisturize me!" He grins again and goes to stand on the rich rug, just as Rheisa pulls a book from the shelf.The dug and the rug both disappear into the ground with a startled yelp: a cover has slid aside, revealing a hidden set of stairs.
Back upstairs, the bardottan wrings his hands behind Sajin, his blaster now forgotten on top of a dresser. Despite Sajin making no threatening move on him, the butler has slowly talked himself into absolute terror. The big guy has the weapons to do him in, should he decide! "I - master will do away with me, he will. If - look! If you let me live, I'll give you the combination. And h-he has much better stuff hidden in the vault below, too! J-j-just promise you won't hurt me."
"I dink I broke a toe." Yorto'ja groans, wrapped in a rug, several steps down the industrial spiral staircase.
Sajin blinks, glancing towards the Bardottan, "Who said anything about ki-" Then there is the thump and shout. He looks over his shoulder. "Just open the thing, I need to check the security measures and then I'll leave." He makes a note about the vault down below. It's just credits and Jewels here, not what they're after. "Alright." He closes the chest. "Stay here, I need to check that vault down stairs and for whatever reason. If it's blaster fire, shouts, yells, cried of absolute bloody terror. You don't move. Got it?" He doesn't stick around for the butlers answer and heads out the door. He pauses before stepping back and peeking in the archway. "And find a better employer." Then he's making his way with haste back down stairs.
"..."
Rheisa lets the book drop, entranced instead by the sudden crater in the floor. And lack of Dug. Who has broken a toe.
"Is brrruise?" she inquires down the chasm where once a rug did sprawl. The quiet tinkling of glass beads and golden chain sounds out her peek over the edge, before she follows via more conventional means. "Is not very safe floor. Would say trrrap, but is stairs."
"Da book opens a secret passage?" The dug groans, straightening up and rubbing at his backside. He holds his left foot closer to his chest. "Well, dat is cliche. Onward and downwards, I suppose." He doesn't seem too bruised and bothered by his embarrassing display, beyond the toe: perhaps he is still high on that image of raw meat swallowed whole by a horned, foot-wrestling goddess. Sajin, however, will find a gaping hole opened in the center of the library floor containing a rug and a dug, with Rheisa following after. "Find anyting upstairs?" Yorto'ja asks, hearing more footsteps as Sajin approaches.
"Just the butler, he shouldn't be a problem." Sajin mentions as he inspects the stair way. "Well... lets get going. We don't want to be here too too long. All this noise might have alerted the guards." He isn't so gentlemenly this time and just starts down the stairs right away and into the passageway.
"Shh," Rheisa cautions as they descend, picking up on a disturbance in the air, some spirals below. Movement. She stoops on a step and does a bit of tucking and tying up of this and that, until her legs from knees-down are bared and free of rustling, fabric snags. The bow is slung back around into hand and arrow nocked at the ready. A little elbowing of the bruised Dug signals she means to take point and goes slinking soundlessly down the stairs like the graceful(at times) predator that she is. Shadows and dim lighting shan't be an issue, as a little glint of eyeshine reveals.
The three creep down, warned of possible danger by their token predator, but there are little places to hide in a spiral staircase, and as soon as Sajin's boots meet the final curve of the staircase, he is awarded the briefest view of a corridor. Overly plain, scantly lit and undecorated in harsh contrast to the rest of the lavish mansion: but at the opposite end of the corridor is a vault door. More importantly, however, are three individuals, two of whom are heavily armed - and the moment Sajin steps into view, the sound of blaster fire fills the area. Thanks to Rheisa's keen senses, they were expecting this. The shots echo with a hollow, deadly scream as they burn into metal and stone, their voices dullened by the stone and ground encompassing them.
"Tchagga!" The dug swears, fumbling his blaster loose and arming it. "I tink we found da vault... Or at least da guards." More bolts ring out, but something else, as well. "Stop! Halt! Wait!" A voice calls out. "Hello? Brigands? Whatever they are paying you, I will pay double!" Yorto'ja immediately shouts: "Two hundred tousand creds is what dey are paying us!" Then he winks, but as soon as the dug goes to take a tentative step down, blaster fire rings out again. "It seems he was lying." He shrugs and readies his blaster.
Sajin doesn't even have time to really stop as a blaster bolt screams by his head and smashed into the wall beside him. He doesn't flinch. Instead, like a honed gunslinger, he draws his DL-44 and pulls the trigger as it levels. One bolts slams into the chest of the Human Guard, the other blasts his head clean apart. He moves his wrist only slightly and pulls the trigger once more, blasting to Gotal in a well placed center mass shot. It all happened in a matter of one second, that's how fast the Hapan was. The room is still echoing loudly with blaster fire even though it's ended. Smoking corpses and wounds permiating the air with smells of burnt flesh. "That was a bad move, I'd give up." The Hapan declares in that deep brooding raspy voice of his.
"Drrao sa ghut!" Rheisa shouts back after a brief pause and glance at Yorto's wink, voice almost drowned out by the blaster fire. It's a promise she means to keep. And does.
The arrow finds a narrow gap in the Gotal's armor, between breastplate and hip. It lodges there with a meaty 'thwick' fractions of a second before - or after - Sajin's pistol redirects its firepower from human to furry-faced Gotal. "Am Rrrreesa Dirleel," she intones much more softly than Sajin's booming recommendation. "Daughter of Shili, Curator of the Muse. I do not miss." In figure, she is far less menacing than the heavily armored Hapan, but there's an air of calm, collected certainty about her in the way she's eyeing the still-smoldering meat shields. And that Anx.
"You is Dek-slan Devigrra?" she calls next, slowly drawing another arrow from quiver to fit into place while the arm steadying the bow moves not an inch. "You take something which did not belong to you. From someone who also did not...for whom...it did not belong." Okay, so her mastery of the Basic language still leaves something to be desired, but the point's sort of discernable. "The sister. We have come for her."
The best that money can buy? Dexlan should have paid more. A flurry of fire overtakes the confined space, deafening and blinding and all-consuming in its brief fierceness. Yorto'ja, his foot injured by his fall, takes a shot to the shoulder and his retaliatory blast goes wide, pinging off the vault in the back. When the fury is brought to a rapid conclusion, the human guard is dead, his gotal companion nearby, breathing still - but barely - and behind them, his back pressed to his vault, stands a finely dressed anx. "I see." Dexlan Devigera clears his throat, straightening up and adjusting the neckline of his silken tunic. "I can see when I am clearly outmatched." He sighs, raising his hands level with his painted head-crest in a show of surrender. "I am unarmed; I had hoped that my retinue would take care of any... Trespassing. I see that my security will need to be overhauled, of course. What are you here for - do you want money? Are you here to kidnap me? Really, this will all be a lot easier if you just tell me what you are after, now that all this posturing is out of the way." Sweat rolls down the anx's exaggerated cranial ridge. "I can see to it that Zihb provides you with any funds you are seeking... I do need to ask: did you kill my butler? That would be a shame indeed." He smacks his lips, eyes narrowing at Rheisa. "The... Sister? I know not of the sister. But... Credits and jewels -" He clears his throat again.
Yorto'ja, however injured the dug may be, is enthralled with this show of primitive strength. "Were it possible -" He mutters to Sajin. "- Da galaxy would be peppered wit our pups."
Sajin grits his teeth through clenched jaw, the muscles showing through his freshly shaven cheeks. He twirls his DL-44 around his finger and slides it back into his holster, stomping towards Dexlan with a very deadly glink in his usually dreamy hazel eyes... and just rocket clocks hims across the jaw. "You heard her you sack of pooduu. WHERE IS THE SISTER!?" Did he have any idea what that was, no? Though, he knew how to make someone scared and complacent to do his bidding far more than bluffing his way out of a situation.
"What is a 'butler'?" Rheisa retains her grumpy posturing, as the tinny ringing in her montrals left by the firefight and the unpleasently low frequency of the Anx's every word is cause for a bit of headache. Like the taunting onset of a migraine or nagging linger of one already passed. Not debilitating...but there. Annoyingly so. The hand-hewn, barbed tip of the arrow makes a minute adjustment, to target the Anx's throat, should it come to such. And Sajin's advance ensures it shall not.
Shehe flits a look to Yorto'ja and his crispy wound, then levels back on the rich punching bag. "The Twin. One half of the piece by Trometh. Is Bothan. Verrrry beautiful piece, with gypryst. So. Now is good time for you to open this door," she motions with a tip of montrals toward the vault. "We know was here. If is no more, then is no reason for us to be here. And no value of you to us. So maybe is best we do find behind this door, yes? Or I will leave you to these mens," she motions to both Yorto'ja and Sajin. "And maybe find myself hungry on way outside. So much to eat, trapped in those pens. Is like what the humans call...buf-fay?"
Dexlan Devigera opens his mouth, but the mighty Hapan's fist takes him against the side of the head, sending him sprawling to the ground with an unceremonious cry of pain and alarm. Yorto'ja hums in approval. "Please!" Dexlan begs from the ground, crying softly. "I don't - I don't know any sister! I didn't take anyone's sister!" His eyes grow wider as Rheisa elaborates, recognition sparking to life in a greedy mind. "No - my animals... They are very rare, it took me years to collect them, just -" He slowly rises to his knees. "You're here for... Bwu'ken's sculptures?" His expression darkens, and he wipes a spot of blood from his lip, letting it linger on his skin for a moment's reflection, stark against his hand, before daintily wiping it on his pants. Defeat and desperation swirl across the anx, but he stands.
"He was my father's greatest rival... With his work gone, Trometh will fade into obscurity while Nolox'tur Devigera will forever shine! It... How many children can say they truly made their parent proud? Can say /they/ brought their progenitors glory and honor? I can! I have erased my father's rival, locked his legacy away where it will do nothing more than collect dust beneath the feet of the Devigera brood. He lies within the foundation of his betters and there his work will /rot/!" He slams a hand against the vault and turns pleading eyes on Sajin and Rheisa. "Leave them here. Let Trometh die in obscurity - it's the only thing that I can do for my father. His spirit cannot rest quietly - he /deserves/ fame."
Sajin rolls his eyes at the end of the Anx Dialog. Perhaps there was a moment of pause where Dexlan thought he was getting through. Though, Sajin wasn't here to give into touchy feely Daddy didn't love me enough stuff. Instead, the large Hapan grabs the Anx by his long throat and squeezes, lifting him up with one hand. "I don't give a Kriff." And then throws him against the valt door. "OPEN IT. NOW."
Glory and honor? Rheisa's broadened headtails and suddenly a mite more slack, stripes no longer INKY bold. How many children can say such things? She can not say such things. She was bringer of shame, for progenitors. For her the pack. Small, weak little Tazi. Broken inside. Excluded from the hunt. Denied procreation rights. Left to die in the vastness of the turu sea...twenty-three years too late, by some's telling.
Slowly, very slowly, the bow lowers, lowers lowers until the arrow is slackly 'aimed' at floor. Where once was righteous badassery seeping from the Togruta's pores, there is now a conflicted blend of feels. Her vicious side has wilted. "Om," she steps forward to lay a hand on Sajin's armored side with a guttural, single-syllable cease and desist order. "Stop. Cannot open door if is dead." Pause. "Unless have BOOM in belt." She pulls free her datapad and cues up a picture of the twin currently in their possession. "The life Bwu'ken put into stone already is free, to be enjoyed by any who see it. By keeping a piece of it here, you are not burying his spirit. Only adding weight and shadow to your own." She holds the datapad facing out so that the pummeled Anx can see it. "If you want fame for your father, you should take his beautiful work from this place. Like the rare spirits you 'collect' inside your gates, they should not be trapped here. But free."
"This I cannot do... It is... I am not enough of a legacy for so great a man." Dexlan sets his jaw. "If I die for my father's work, then I die a worthy death."
And then Sajin attacks him, and any poorly-construed fantasies of misguided and self-invented heroism go out the window. "Okay!" Dexlan gasps, his voice raspy and broken. "Okay." There are tears in his wretched eyes as Devigera, rises... Studying Rheisa for a long while. "My father deserved more." He growls... And opens the vault.
It is a graveyard honoring a dead man's mind; countless statues and sculptures marking the passage of a single lifetime and a hundred small deaths. Each day their creator was forgotten, just a piece more - within the synthstone and gryprst reside the markers of loss and obscurity. Memories and thought swirl within those red orbs - but the light suits them. It's as if the artwork knows that it is free, as if the living, red-stone within those pieces can feel salvation: the colors seem to grow a little warmer. Even the dust is suddenly loathe to rest upon such carefully crafted labors of beauty and reality - they have choked on the darkness for too long.
"Dis is the art you have fought for?" Yorto'ja asks, even an uncultured sod like him, a former gangster, seems to find some reverie and peace surrounded by the ghosts of Bwu'ken's work. "I do not tink all dis will fit in da Cihn woman's speeder."
Sajin looks to Rheisa and then steps back. The Vault opens and he looks on with his eyes, still clouded with that deadly glint, just incase. He keeps quiet and just starts moving things up stairs to load into the speeder. It's what he's here to do.
Rheisa's throat bobs with a little swallow when the full extent of the thefted works is unveiled. She performs a cursory scan of the contents from her present vantage point - outside the vault - before daring to venture inside. "Not all, no," a sad smile goes to the redeemed gangster. "But some. And some of Devigera's, if he would give his father the fame." She gives the cranially crested saurian a /look/ on her way inside and shrugs bow over shoulder so she may examine some of the pieces more closely. After a time, the grim realization is made.
"She is not here," she says of the sister piece, but picks up another in arms. "Which mean either he sell, or someone else steal from those who stole."
Dexlan merely watches the removal with dead eyes from where he sits, splayed on the ground. "We can work up a contract for some... Works of Nolox'tur." He sighs, defeated, as the stolen sculptures are pulled from his vault, past the fallen guards, and back through his lavish mansion. A new home is waiting for them; their future is uncertain, but at least it will be lived in the light. The dug grunts as he slides down the wall to join him on the floor. "You had my friend killed for dis art. Is not worth is now, eh?" Yorto'ja winces, prodding at the wound on his shoulder with a hiss. "We do strange tings for love, brudda. You give madam best contract: bygones be bygones, maybe." And the dug gives a small smile.
Upstairs, an anxious voice echoes through the foyer of the Devigera mansion. "O-Oh! Let me help you with those, sir and madam! I assume that you have my master's permission to remove property of the Devigera estate..."
