I hate you (open)

[Ishmel Rykov]

Rykov stood over the cowering figure. His pale hair hung to his high collared jacket as he his chest moved up and down with rugged breathing. He wiped the blood from his nose, wiping it on his pant's leg. Ishmel spit his blood colored saliva onto the back of the wretch in front of him.

"You picked the wrong person to fight with today Bruno."

The huddled man whimpered, shivering as the man looked up into Ishmel's gray eyes. Rykov smirked, spitting blood on Bruno again.

"You think my sickness makes me weak? You made that bet with those other fools in the bar that I was just some sickly wimp that you could push around, an easy fight. You lost the bet, and so did your friends."

Ishmel pointed his thumb over his shoulder to the skinned bodies hanging from the rafters. Bruno's eye appeared, wide with fear as he looked to see the dripping bodies, he cried, holding himself only harder.
Bruno had made the bet and left the bar in search of Ishmel, not knowing that his prey was hiding in the back, this event expected and was rumored to be coming for a long time now. Hours later, when he had returned, the bar was a massacre. Confronting Ishmel, the fight had lasted nearly 15 minutes.
Blood was splattered across the wall, belonging to Bruno, his crew, and Ishmel. The bartender had been paid with all of Ishmel's savings to leave the bar and never return. Ishmel had told him he wouldn't have any of his regulars after this night anyways.

"But don't worry, I intend to leave you in far better condition than they. My voice is gonna haunt your nightmares. My gray eyes and my pale skin are the Grim Reaper to you. When you die, in the gutter as you are destined to, you will see my face. And you'll hear my voice..."

Rykov kneeled down to Bruno, whispering into his ear.

"...I hate you Bruno. I hate you. You were born normal, you were born without an extreme flaw, you cannot amount to anything above or below the normal standards and for that, I hate you."

He stood, unrolling his sleeves and spitting his blood on the floor again. He began to leave but before he could make it to the door, Bruno turned and yelled,

"TO THE ABYSS WITH YOU RYKOV!"

Ishmel ignored him, closing the door behind him as he assumed a brisk stride along the streetside.

[Zereth Lancer]

Zereth sat on a nearby rooftop watching Ishmel walked out of the bar, he jumped down from the roof and followed the strange man

He hid in the shadows as he followed Ishmel, his black Ninja-like garb his him better in the shadows.

[Ishmel Rykov]

Rykov continued down the street, his breathing finally returning to a normal rate by the time he reached his condo. He punched his access code into the keypad and ran his keycard through the lock and the door opened, quickly closing behind him as he headed up the stairs.

The dingy lamp swung from the ceiling as the stairway creaked under Ishmel's weight. He passed the other rooms and got to his room, undoing several locks and making sure they were tightly locked back once he got inside. He took a quick glance about the windowless room. Not a light was on but Ishmel could see bare outlines of the objects in the dark with what little light came from under the door.

Rykov slipped his jacket off his shoulders and let the 80 pound jacket heavily thud to the floor. He stretched, flexing his muscles as he listened to his own breathing. A smile crept across his face as he thought of Bruno. Ishmel had paid Bruno in full for all the torment Rykov had been given. Ishmel stretched for a few more minutes before frowning.

He needed to use the refresher and he smelled his underarm, he needed a shower. He walked to the door, unlocking it and entering the hallway. He entered the bathroom and stared into the dirty mirror. There was only one window in the bathroom that had a wonderful view of a brick wall that led to the fire escape. With the light from the window, Ishmel could see his own reflection barely.

It wasn't much. His mother had told him he had the bold features of his father before she had died of malnutrition. He believed his bold features but he wanted to know who he could hate more for passing along the genetic defect that plagued him. His skin was almost white, his hair was sickly pale, and his eyes were milky gray. Ishmel's eyes though couldn't decipher color. It was one big black and white holo-movie for him. And for that, he hated it all.
He clenched his fist as he stared at his reflection, closing his eyes. Why was he the one chosen to befall this illness? Why did he have to suffer?

[Zereth Lancer]

Zereth climbed onto the roof of the building he was hiding by, with his night vision goggles he could just barley see Ishmel through his window

He jumped down from the roof and ras upto the fire escape, Zereth started of the steps not making a noice

He finalt reached Ishmels window which he peeked on through

Ishmel had greatly interested Zereth by his ways if dealing with those he didnt like, Zereth moved closer to the window.

[Ishmel Rykov]

Ishmel lifted off his dirty muscle shirt and tossed it into the small shower. He ran a hand through his hair, feeling the oily grease. Rykov's lip lifted in a small sneer as he scratched his back. He looked into the mirror again. His body was muscular but the pale pigment gave a weakly look to it. He lifted his finger and rubbed at the dried crust of the blood from his nose.

"You're no better, you're just as weak. And who to hate more than yourself for your own weaknesses?"

Ishmel examined his finger. Blood was supposed to be the color red and Ishmel didn't even know what that looked like. He had a gray crust on his finger that he recognized as blood because he had spilled so much of it, his own and others.

Rykov moved to the shower, turning it on, the hot water beginning to steam instantly. The water fell onto the muscle shirt and washed off into the drain. He might as well do laundry while he took a shower. He slipped his heavy boots off and didn't even bother with his pants when he stepped into the shower.

He gritted his teeth as the steaming water splashed against his bruises. He pushed himself against the wall as it ran through his hair and burned at his scalp. He opened his eyes, looking out the window just to look. He liked the view, the brick wall was a confirming mental fact that Rykov was trapped. Trapped by his own weaknesses, to never enjoy those simple things; colors, simplicity in life, nondiscrimination for what he looked like. And he hated the brick wall for it, just like he hated everything else.

But this time, as he looked out the window, he saw something obstructing his view of the wall. He squinted in the darkness; his muscles tensing. Something was outside his window and it had the nerve to bother Ishmel Rykov in his own home?

His gaze had only stayed on the unknown for a moment; Ishmel tried to play it off as if he had not seen him. He finished his shower and rinsed out his shirt before stepping out. Ishmel pressed the button to turn on the drying system and in a few moments, he was dry and so were his clothes. He put his shirt back on before returning to the mirror and staring into the reflection of the obvious figure outside his window on the fire escape.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

As he looked out the window, there was a knock at his door.

[Zereth Lancer]

Zereth moved away from the window when he heard the knock on the door just when I'm about to show myself to this guy someone else has to show up he thought ot himself as peeked through the window again.

[Ishmel Rykov]

Ishmel's head snapped to the doorway. His gaze went to the mirror quickly, the obstruction of his view was gone, but he had definitely seen something. He closed his eyes for a moment. Ambush? Had Bruno come back for revenge? Ishmel was sure he had beaten that out of him... What if Bruno had hired someone? Plausible...

Ishmel sneered, throwing the bathroom door open and running to his room. The locks came undone easily as he dove in the room, grabbing his jacket and making sure he had left nothing behind. Whoever it was at the door had obviously set someone up at the fire escape to prevent Ishmel from leaving. Little did they know that Rykov had spotted their man out his window, he smiled, cracking his knuckles before stepping outside his room and relocking the door.

He slowly came down the stairs and stopped on the last step where a pad was for opening the front door automatically for convenience. Yes, very convenient. Ishmel clenched his other hand, standing on the balls of his feet so he could be sure to move at any given moment. His hand passed over the pad and the door opened...

[Lilaena De'Ville]

A startled droid looked up as the door opened and Ishmel stood there, ready to fight or flee. "Oh my goodness gracious me! I am merely delivering a message." The droid held out a datapad in one clamp-like hand, looking relieved when the man took it. "And will there be a return message?"

The datapad held a concise message addressed to Mr. Rykov.

Mr. Rykov:

I could not help but notice your handiwork at the bar. Impressive, but the work of an amateur. If you are interested in learning how to harness your feelings to work for you, and not the other way around, then meet me tomorrow night at the Cuppa Joe tapcaf.

Sincerely,
De'Ville

[Ishmel Rykov]

Ishmel didn't read the message until he examined the data pad. Making sure that no bomb or trap awaited an unexpecting reader, he decided it was safe enough and read the message, giving the droid annoyed glances as he did so.

"Yes."

He cleared the pad after memorizing the place to meet. He typed in (Agreed) and thrust the pad back to the droid. Slamming the door on the droid, Ishmel turned and cautiously headed back up the stairs to his room where he locked the door and thought over the night.

Whoever this De'Ville person was, they knew about him and what he'd done. They complimented him and followed up with the label of "amateur." That didn't help his conclusions of the man and the offer of help annoyed him almost as much.

He began to exercise, stretching and lifting the weights in his room to help keep himself calm. He would go to see what this De'Vill wanted but the thought still existed in his mind. A possible fear that this De'Ville had ill intent towards Rykov. No one in this part of Coruscant wanted to make friends and be well with each other. He would see.

(The next evening)

Ishmel, somewhat cleaner from another shower in the morning. Slightly shaken from the events of the prior night, Rykov's stride wasn't as confident and he kept looking over his shoulder expecting to see some figure watching him from the shadows.

He reached the Cuppa Joe tapcaf and entered. He had no clue of what race or figure this De'Ville had he wasn't going to make any estimations yet in fear of under or overestimating this person. He took a table for two and sat waiting. He didn't order anything, having little money and finding most drinks disgutingly unappettizing most of the time. Nothing else to do but wait.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

A fairly attractive woman in her seemingly late thirties approached his table. "I could not help but notice you sitting here alone. Mind if I join you?"

[Silus Xilarian]

Across the room, a blonde haired man sat lazily kicked back in his chair. His eyes followed the lady to the table, where another male sat. He looked interested, and made no attempt to look otherwise.

[Zereth Lancer]

Zereth had fallowed Ishmel to the Cuppa Joe tapcaf, He walked through the door and sat down at a table in a dark corner wher Ishmel couldn't see him

He watched Ishmel like a hawk watches its prey, he could feel the darkside in the woman that was talking to ishmel.

[Ishmel Rykov]

Ishmel had the funniest feeling she wasn't just asking to sit because she was possibly attracted to him. With a sarcastic smirk, he gestured to the seat.

"Not at all."

Ishmel examined her before quickly looking over the room again. He only saw one person that kept their constant attention to his table and he made sure to keep the person in his view. Maybe he was De'Ville. Or the woman. Maybe De'Ville was an organization; he had no clue but he was sure he would find out.

"Can I help you with anything?"

Ishmel's voice wasn't in any way helpful but he was sure the woman knew what he meant, of course, if she was affiliated at all with last night's events. Otherwise, she could take him for the cold hearted wretch he was and bugger off.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

She sat smoothly, arranging her skirts around her legs as she got comfortable. "I was merely wondering if you needed some company tonight, Ishmel. That, and I have a proposition for someone of your...sensibilities." De'Ville turned her head slightly to smile at the waitress who'd just approached. "I would like a chai tea, please."

[Ishmel Rykov]

Ishmel waved the waitress off when she looked to him for anything and she curtly left to fill the woman's order. His smirk didn't leave his face but his eyes betrayed his surprise that she knew his name and used it so casually. He regained himself quickly enough, pulling his leg up so it rested on his other knee.

"Should I presume you are De'Ville? You already seem to know me quite well. I would like to know what this proposition is that you would require a Gray Man for?"

Ishmel didn't really have a clue who he was dealing with but he knew he wouldn't let any leverage being put upon him that he could stop. He was obviously at a loss; she seemed to know much more of him than he did of her. He wanted to know more before he stuck his foot in the Sarlaac.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Lilaena nodded, and leaned her chin lightly on her left hand. "Indeed, I am the one who sent you that note last night. And you were on time and are still very curious about me. I, and my associates, have been watching you these last few days, Ishmel Rykov. You make enemies easily, it seems. Would it not do you good to make an ally instead?"

Before he could reply she added, "Tell me, what do you know of the Force?"

[Zereth Lancer]

Zereth could hear what they were saying from where he sat, he smirked this De'ville woman is a very strange person indeed he thought to himself.

[Silus Xilarian]

Silus glanced over a few tables down. It had taken long enough for someone to sit, most likely due to the dim lighting of that corner. Shady people always sat in shady spots, and this shady individual shared the same interest as Silus. As the waitress walked by, Silus stopped her and spoke in a low voice...

"The man in the corner, order him another round, and dont bother telling him who sent it..."

[Zereth Lancer]

Zereth was suprised when the waitress walked up to his table and set a drink down "A nice gentleman sent this for you" she said as she walked away

He smelled the drink and got a little bit on his finger and tasted it good, no poison he thought as he took a sip and continued to watch the two at the other table.