#jurrian

“I – “ the man struggles. “I was ordered to wait in this hanger, I was supposed to – “ Another wave of coughing. “ – wait for a certain Republic agent to land his ship here, ambush him, get the job done – “ he hacks  “ – quickly. Before the diplomats arrived.”

“Well, you found me instead.” Jurrian smiles widely, showing his teeth. “How fortunate for the both of us, eh?”

“I wouldn’t…say that,” the man mutters. He is clutching his stomach now, unable to rise from the floor. Jurrian squats down so that he is directly facing the man at eye level. He considers the man’s face carefully – the navy bruises forming under both eyes, the way his skin has paled to a sickly ashen color, the blood dripping from his nose and ears. 

“I suppose you wouldn’t,” Jurrian concludes, solemnly. He reaches out and runs his hand across the man’s cheek. It is still warm, despite the lack of color.

“Tell me something else,” he commands quietly. “You report to Keeper, don’t you? You’re an Agent of the Imperial Military?”

“Yes, I – I work for the Empire, not the Republic,” the man shakes beneath Jurrian’s touch. It annoys Jurrian for some reason. Leave him alone, Juri, a voice rustles in the back of his mind. You’re being a bully. It is the voice of some forgotten child. Jurrian doesn’t remember the child’s name. “You’re a Sith,” the man states, obviously. “You work for the Empire too.” The man’s voice rises slightly as he finishes his statement, making it sound more like a question.

Jurrian wraps his hand around the man’s jaw. He likes the feeling of it; those hard, angular bones.

“What was the name of the Republic agent you were assigned to kill?” Jurrian asks calmly.

“Ror – Roric,” the man coughs out. “A smuggler. His ship is The Adoration.”

“What a stupid name for a ship,” Jurrian sighs. He runs his hand down across the man’s jaw to his neck. A slender, lovely neck. His hand fits nicely around it.

“You’re – are you – “ a drop of blood falls from the man’s nose onto Jurrian’s exposed arm. “We’re on the same side, surely you wouldn’t – “

“Wouldn’t what?” Jurrian frowns. “Kill you?”

Tears are streaming down the man’s face now. Some Agent he must have been. Weak, all of them are weak. For a fleeting moment, he imagines the dying man’s eyes replaced with glowing red lights, and it satisfies him. “I’m an Agent of the Imperial Military,” the man repeats, somewhat desperately.

Jurrian leans in close to whisper in the man’s ear, his voice taking on the low, intimate quality a lover’s might. “Let me tell you a secret,” he explains, softly. “I fucking hate Imperial Agents.”

“I – “ the man struggles. “I was ordered to wait in this hanger, I was supposed to – “ Another wave of coughing. “ – wait for a certain Republic agent to land his ship here, ambush him, get the job done – “ he hacks  “ – quickly. Before the diplomats arrived.”

“Well, you found me instead.” Jurrian smiles widely, showing his teeth. “How fortunate for the both of us, eh?”

“I wouldn't…say that,” the man mutters. He is clutching his stomach now, unable to rise from the floor. Jurrian squats down so that he is directly facing the man at eye level. He considers the man’s face carefully – the navy bruises forming under both eyes, the way his skin has paled to a sickly ashen color, the blood dripping from his nose and ears. 

“I suppose you wouldn’t,” Jurrian concludes, solemnly. He reaches out and runs his hand across the man’s cheek. It is still warm, despite the lack of color.

“Tell me something else,” he commands quietly. “You report to Keeper, don’t you? You’re an Agent of the Imperial Military?”

“Yes, I – I work for the Empire, not the Republic,” the man shakes beneath Jurrian’s touch. It annoys Jurrian for some reason. Leave him alone, Juri, a voice rustles in the back of his mind. You’re being a bully. It is the voice of some forgotten child. Jurrian doesn't remember the child’s name. “You’re a Sith,” the man states, obviously. “You work for the Empire too.” The man’s voice rises slightly as he finishes his statement, making it sound more like a question.

Jurrian wraps his hand around the man’s jaw. He likes the feeling of it; those hard, angular bones.

“What was the name of the Republic agent you were assigned to kill?” Jurrian asks calmly.

“Ror – Roric,” the man coughs out. “A smuggler. His ship is The Adoration.”

 “What a stupid name for a ship,” Jurrian sighs. He runs his hand down across the man’s jaw to his neck. A slender, lovely neck. His hand fits nicely around it.

“You’re – are you – “ a drop of blood falls from the man’s nose onto Jurrian’s exposed arm. “We’re on the same side, surely you wouldn’t – “

“Wouldn’t what?” Jurrian frowns. “Kill you?”

Tears are streaming down the man’s face now. Some Agent he must have been. Weak, all of them are weak. For a fleeting moment, he imagines the dying man’s eyes replaced with glowing red lights, and it satisfies him. “I’m an Agent of the Imperial Military,” the man repeats, somewhat desperately.

Jurrian leans in close to whisper in the man’s ear, his voice taking on the low, intimate quality a lover’s might. “Let me tell you a secret,” he explains, softly. “I fucking hate Imperial Agents.”

Reeid never knew his mother, and has no desire to find out anything about her. Despite all of the Imperial intelligence at his command, he has absolutely no feelings towards the matter one way or another. His mother isn't someone who matters; she's just another human, dead or alive, somewhere in the galaxy. 

Jurrian: Jurrian is Chrispistols' Noemme's little brother. Stay tuned for more info, Chrispistols and I have yet to discuss their family dynamic in more detail.  One thing is for sure: Juri loves his sister and looks up to her; he sees her as his role-model (this is how I envision it anyway). Maybe he has kind of an older sister complex, who knows :3

2. Vanity (a.k.a Physical Appearance)

Sabrini: Sabrini is gorgeous and doesn't know it. Have you ever met someone just so totally stunning but they just have absolutely no clue that they are? Well, that's 'Rini. If asked, she'd tell you she was plain; in truth, she's one of the most unique and pretty Mirialans out there (that's not just her creator talking I swear). That being said, as a Jedi she doesn't really spend much time on her appearance or clothing or hair: it's just not part of the job description. Sabrini's most prominent features are her stunning amethyst-colored eyes (which match her similarly colored hair). She tends to get a lot of attention for her looks without noticing said attention; she tends to be totally oblivious to that kind of thing. To her, being a Jedi is worthy of note, not her physical appearance. Then, of course, she met Thaos, and started to wonder if being attractive might not be a good thing after all...of course, she'd be way too embarrassed to ever admit that! ;)

Reeid: Reeid considers himself a fairly normal-looking dude, and he's right, he is. While not unattractive, Reeid has the uncanny ability to go unnoticed at nearly all times. He considers this "innocuousness" vital to his success as an Imperial sniper, and is therefore quite thankful for it. When he was a child, his father used to call him "Summer Eyes" because of his bright, leaf-green eyes. Reeid hated it at the time, but thinks of the nickname fondly now, with his father gone. Reeid tends not to care if anyone notices him or not; he prefers to be left alone, and could care less if women (or men) flirt with him - not that anyone ever has to begin with. But then everything changed when the fire nation attacked, and by the fire nation I mean Erkal.