Holonet Classifieds
found: a hidey hole
need a plaCe tO stay? the Man keeping you down? coMe on over 2 key's house of happiness 4 users of the good side. 770. tired of being alone? 92.14 find others who believe the same things you do, like Justice, and lEts give us a chance to grow big and strong in safety. just Do It! training facilities available upon request.
ooc: this is non-traceable and the Imps can't figure it out because the Jedi group needs a break. mmkay?
Last edited by Ann R. Key; Apr 30th, 2009 at 04:56:02 PM.
"I will stay."
That is what he'd said. There'd been no details specified and no promises made. Once Jackson's leg was healed, the boy offered him one chance to leave with him, then left. Indecisive tag-alongs made tiresome travelling companions. Loki was alone again and was glad of it.
In the days following his departure from the lower levels, Loki occupied himself with finding shelter and stealing food, never staying in the same place for more than two nights and never looking back. When he wasn't preoccupied with his own survival, he watched people and listened to their conversations; he found that in the lower levels conversation was mundane and banal whereas during brief stints on the surface, he noticed people entertained ideas and topics far greater than themselves. Although polar in nature, he found the opposing cultures of the rich and poor on Coruscant to be as equally decadent and self-indulgent as each other. It was stifling and he was beginning to realise how much he needed to escape.
WANTED: BRASH BLACKADDER
He froze in his tracks and turned to face the Holonet terminal. He stepped closer and cast a wary glance up and down the length of the street, there were youths huddled on the corner but were too busy being rowdy to pay him any attention. Pressing a finger to the screen, the article opened up before him, it was about a pirate on Nar Shaddaa who was responsible for the theft of sensitive government materials and was to be considered highly dangerous, the authorities were asking for any information on him or his accomplice, a young boy called The Kid. Loki sighed.
The article also featured security footage of Brash Blackadder raiding a supply depot for spare engine parts and taking the time to pause and wave to the camera, grinning wildly through an enormous fake beard, before darting out of sight, his velvet cape flapping dramatically in the wind. There was also a fuzzy image of him taken from an earlier incident on Nar Shaddaa which resulted in a ferocious cantina shoot-out. He winced at the sight of himself wielding a blaster, and hearing footsteps nearby, he prodded the screen furiously until the incriminating picture was gone and replaced by a long list of advertisments. He scrolled casually through the classifieds while the stranger passed by, and once the coast was clear, he moved to close the window when something caught his eye:
found: a hidey hole
It sounded ridiculous but the fact of the matter was he had nothing to lose. He read on, annoyed by the grammatical errors and the... random numbers. When he got to the end, he immediately re-read the message. His eyes danced over the words, gleaming in the pale glow from the terminal, and as he read it one last time he fished in his pockets and pulled out a single credit chit. It rolled into the terminal with a dull clunk and he thumbed the numbers in rapid succession:
24.770.92.14 connecting...
The transmission connected, and after a few moments the comm on the other end of the number clicked open. Loki's ear was blasted by rock music, and the sound of someone singing along to it over the original vocal track.
Badly.
"I don't give a damn 'bout my bad reputation...!" The voice grew louder as whoever was singing boogied over to the comm, and then, "Key's house of Happiness, what can I dooooo for you?"
Loki glared at the vibrating loudspeaker and quickly lowered the volume on the terminal. Immediately, his eyes shifted back to the advert he'd just read and double-checked the name: Key's House of Happiness. This was it, he concluded with resignation. He leaned in close and spoke in an undertone.
"I saw your advert for... a hidey hole. Where can we meet?"
There was a moment of only blaring music, and then - "What? Can't hear ya!"
The music abruptly shut off. "You saw my what?"
"Your advert. In the classifieds. Where can we meet?"
Ann swiveled around in her chair and her heavy boots clunked on the deck plating as she picked up the handset for the shipboard comm. She whispered dramatically, "Shhh!"
Looking around over both her shoulders at the empty cockpit she was sitting in, she said, "Dantooine. Two days. And bring your dancing shoes."
"If by asking for me to bring dancing shoes you're inferring the rendezvous is to take place in a cantina of some description then your clue, while lacking in subtelty, requires more detail as I have no knowledge of the planet. However, if you simply wish for me to arrive on Dantooine wearing dancing shoes you will be disappointed. Furthermore-"
A beep-beep issued forth from the terminal, drawing Loki's attention to a flashing warning on the screen. He spluttered into the comm.
"I have ten seconds left, please speak quickly!"
"Dantooine, the Lucky Pirate, two days, don't be followed and don't bring the Imps and try to act normal." Ann rattled off the words in about four seconds, then took a huge breath. "AND BUY ME A DRINK!" she bellowed.
The connection was terminated and Loki was left staring at the blank screen turning over a trio of thoughts: Dantooine. Two Days. The Lucky Pirate.
Forty-two hours, one stolen library card, two cold meals, and a long-haul interstellar journey in a cargohold full of livestock later...
Loki was on Dantooine. He found himself at a small outpost in the heart of nowhere. A tall perimeter fence flanked the lone port and the few buildings nestled around it and beyond was a vast expanse of crimson flats and fields of yellow ochre. He took in the night air, a concotion of engine fumes and fried meat, and winded through a small cluster of down-and-outs gathered around a stack of flour sacks. A farmer scaled the sacks and hand-picked his workforce, those left behind dispersed and shambled to the nearest source of shelter from the rain.
Then he saw it, The Lucky Pirate, written in blue lights above a door to one of the larger buildings. He hurried inside and dusted the water from his hair. Looking thoroughly unremarkable, he crossed the room taking note of the men lined up at the bar and the sight of heavily-liquored punters slumped in a corner leering at a half-naked woman dancing on their table in soft pink light. Loki scowled and hoped he'd encounter the mystery woman he'd spoken to days previous sooner than later. Suddenly, he was spun around on the spot, a heavy hand clamped upon his shoulder, and was presented with a tray of colourful beverages. It was forced into his open hands.
"Oi kid, I don't pay you to loiter! Table Six!"
"All right!" Ann snaked up a drink off a girl's tray, dropping a few credits in return, and downed it. "This is my kinda party!"
Dressed in short shorts, striped knee socks (Pink and blue on one leg, yellow and green on the other), red combat boots, suspenders and a raggedy two layer tank top with "FRELL ME" typed on it in bold letters, Ann climbed up onto a table with one of the strippers.
"This song," she burped, "is dedicated to everyone!" Ann held an imaginary microphone and began belting out "I did it my way" as the stripper gyrated just behind her, upside down on the pole with her legs spread wide over Ann's head.
And then a kid arrived at her table with another round of drinks, and the adept jumped off the stage and grinned. "Hooray! More medicine!"
Loki froze. That voice. The singing. The volume. Behind him the ground actually trembled from the weight within those boots. He turned, slowly, and allowed his eyes to glance over the woman in one quick sweep. Inwardly, he cringed but the expression on his face remained... expressionless. He offered her a glass.
"Your drink, as requested."
She unloaded the drinks from the tray to the table, then grabbed the edge of it. Ann's eyes narrowed. "Hey, aren't you a little young?"
Then she brightened as her brain suddenly registered the familiar voice. "Meeting someone here are ya?" Ignoring the drinks, she got to her feet again. "Come on, lets get you home to your mommy."
She grabbed the kids arm, all the while winking expressively at him.
"This does not fall under the definition of 'acting normal'. Please unhand me. This is extraordinarily patronising!"
He rattled off his string of objections while being tugged unceremoniously out of the Lucky Pirate. Despite the humiliating circumstances of his departure he had to admit to himself that he was pleased to be in the open and on the move again. Now he offered resistance and yanked his arm free of the woman's grip, he gave her a scathing look and assessed the damage to his attire.
"Kindly refrain from dragging me around in public," he said grumpily, smoothing a crease out of his sleeve, then he looked up and added, "Or in private for that matter. My name is Abarai Loki."
Man but this kid was yappy. Ann leaned back from him, arms folded in front of her and one hip jutting out. "Nice t' meetcha Loki," she said seriously. A twinkle in her eye betrayed her true feelings, however, as the kid fussed with his clothes.
She mimicked him a bit, pretending to straighten her tank tops, and then she jerked a thumb over her shoulder. "M'name's Key. Ann Key. M'ride's over there, and we should probably get goin'."
He watched her immitating him for the briefest of moments; he wondered if she was trying to amuse or mock him, then he decided it trivial and started off in the direction she'd gestured. She was quick to join him with a rather animated march. They hadn't gone far before his first and most important question bubbled to the surface:
"Are there others?"
"Other rides?" she quipped, but then quickly added, "Not yet kid. You're the first."
They drew up beside a dusty and decrepit looking landspeeder, painted a garish blue with a rainbow pattern on the rear thrusters. Ann flung her long limbed body inside, scrunching down in the driver's seat and pulling a leather aviator cap over her short and unruly blonde hair. A set of huge driving goggles completed her look, but they were also necessary as the two seater didn't have a windshield.
Loki found another set of goggles in the passenger seat.
"First of many, kid," Ann cried, firing up the engine. It rattled loudly, and then roared, a belch of smoke rising around them as it jerked forward a bit, rocking on its repulsors.
"I gave you my name, please use it."
Half of his face engulfed in goggles, unfortunately they were neccessary, Loki glanced over his shoulder for any potential followers then instinctively gripped the underside of his seat as the speeder lurched forward. Rushing air whipped at his bare skin and the roar of wind drowned out the agonised wails of the engine.
"So why are you doing this?" he said as loud and clear as possible without yelling, "Why now?"
"Well, Loki," Ann yelled over the wind, "Why not now?" She didn't feel like getting into the details of it while bugs were flying in her teeth.
She turned her head towards the side of the speeder and spat one out, nearly getting it back in her face. Looking back at Loki Ann grinned devilishly, and gunned it, sending the landspeeder hurtling over the grassy plain.
Loki's eyebrows knitted at Ann's answer, it was oddly sufficient, and he gave her a curious glance. He opened his mouth to speak when the speeder flew like a bullet over the peak of a hill. His stomach lurched in objection at the burst of speed. They sailed down an aggressive decline into the belly of an expansive valley. There were pickets grazing in clusters around their nests and the raging speeder sent them scattering, startled. Loki couldn't help but wonder at how they sounded so similar to cattle, except louder and somewhat... taller. Something cannot possibly sound taller - what nonsense.
Then he saw it, the nose of a large vessel tucked neatly behind an outcrop of tall trees. He glanced at Ann, who beamed and gave the vehicle one last push, prompting Loki to clutch desperately to the chasis, the dashboard, the seatbelt, anything. Mercifully, the aptly-named speeder slowed to a sane cruising speed and no sooner had it reached a full stop that Loki was out of his seat and on solid ground again. His eyes narrowed.
"Ann R. Key," he said in the calm tone of a teacher reading the class register, "Do you not think such reckless driving risks garnering unwanted attention and that, given our position, it is prudent we avoid such... entanglements?"
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