I really like the gritty, darker style of the show, so I'm thinking that our characters will be bounty hunter duo. After backing out of a deal with the First Order, or just doing something to piss them off, then have to fly across the Galaxy to try and get away from them.
Name:
Gender:
Sexuality:
Age:
Race:
Personality:
Alignment:
Appearance:
Attire:
Weapon of Choice:
Languages spoken:
Family:
Home Planet:
Name: Winston Locke
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Straight
Age: 22
Race: Human
Personality: He is a joker by nature, even in situations where his life is in danger. He's most comfortable when smiling and often is seen with an alcoholic beverage in hand.
Alignment: Neutral Good
Appearance: He has medium length light brown hair that he slicks back every morning with gel, but it will often begin to come undone by the end of the day and falls over his face. His skin is naturally tan, even during the winter. His jawline is almost always dusted with a thin covering of hair, despite the fact he shaves every morning. His left hand has been replaced by a mechanical prosthetic after getting into a fight with a Tusken Raider. He wears a glove at all time to hide it. He is around 6'0", but most likely on the shorter side
Attire: The light blue blazer, along with the matching linen pants and spit-shined black dress shoes. When causal, he typically wears a white tank top under an aviator jacket, with a pair of frayed and faded jeans and simple boots.
Weapon of Choice: A280 Blaster Rifle
Languages spoken: Um….name them, he can speak it
Family: None
Home Planet: Corellia
Name: Bianca Ducain
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Bisexual
Age: 19
Race: Human
Personality: Bianca is more than a little uptight, and often serious. She tends to be stern and determined, and has a very low tolerance for nonsense.
Alignment: Lawful Good
Appearance: Bianca is a bit above average height and slender, with light brown skin and dark brown hair that's often pulled into a tight bun. Her face is ovular, with a strong jaw and a smattering of freckles across her nose.
Attire: More used to robes and dresses than pants, but will wear either. Casual outfit is a dark red shirt and navy pants, along with sturdy boots.
Weapon of Choice: ELG-3A blaster
Languages spoken: Speaks Basic and understands Droidspeak, limited grasp of Huttese.
Family: She stopped seeing her family after accepting her position as a handmaiden to Queen Verluer
Home Planet: Naboo
(So, they would've been working together for about 5 or 6 months at this point)
Pain. That's what greeted Winston when he woke up. A deep, burning pain coming from his left side, almost like it was coming from beneath his skin. The last thing he remembered last night was taking his 15th shot and playfully smacking the back of a Wookie's head. Shit, what did he do this time?
The home he was in was hot and barren, with literally no moisture in the air at all. The walls seemed to be hastily built out of some sort of sandstone, all uneven and rough. Everything was covered with a thin layer of dust, even the blanket he was under. And, sadly, his entire mouth, since he was a mouth breather in his sleep. A single glass window placed in just the right spot to let the sunlight fall onto his face did its job perfectly. So, to sum up his morning in one word was shitty.
He noticed the slim figure next to the window once his eyes recovered from the attack the harsh Tatooine sunlight laid down on his pupils. Her hair was tied into an incredibly tight bun that looked like it was tied with wire rather than a hairband. Ah.
"How badly did I get my ass beat last night?" Winston asked, sitting up despite the pain.
(Heads up, I won't be on on until a bit later tonight)
(I'll probably be in bed, so I might not get a response tonight)
Bianca's arms still ached from dragging Winston out of the scumpit that was Mos Eisley's best bar (or, more accurately, Mos Eisley in general) after watching him drink fifteen shots in about fifteen minutes before smacking a Wookiee on the head. Or she assumed it was meant to be a smack. Fifteen-shot Winston didn't have much depth perception, which was probably why the Wookiee had lifted him up and slammed him against the bar. Luckily for the both of them nothing had broken the skin, but the distinct crunch of breaking bones was there.
"Honestly?" she said, walking closer to the bed. "It was probably the worst ass beating that I've seen since the last time I worked with a Corellian."
"That bad, huh?" he asked, moaning in pain as he sat up. Fucking Christ, that Wookie did a number on him. It felt like his insides had been ground into mush and put back into the wrong places. Aggressively.
Winston slowly slipped out of the bed, a hand on his side the entire time. His breathing was ragged and painful, two clear signs of a broken rib. Or multiple. He wasn't complaining, however. He knew he was lucky to even be standing at the moment.
"You got anything t' drink?" The bounty hunter asked, looking around for his rifle. It laid on a table on the far side of the room, cloaked in a layer of orange sand. Damnnit, I'mma have to clean that damn thing. One of the only things he actually kept well-maintained was his rifle, which he treated like his child.
(I have to get to bed, I'll reply after school tomorrow)
(Also, how many years ABY is this going to be?)
(9 years ABY)
(Cool, thanks!)
"Besides water? No," Bianca answered. "And even then we're running low." They'd been on Tatooine for at least three months after the TIE incident, trying to lay low until they gathered enough credits to pay for a ship. So far they were decently close, but the spare credits she'd kept out for supplies were starting to dip. She sighed heavily and fiddled with the bracelet around her wrist, then paused.
"A bit more if I can sell this," Bianca added, holding it up. It was small and silver, with the small floral seal of Naboo burned onto a dangling pendant.
"Damn…." Winston mumbled, watching the light glint off of the metal pendant. She had killed people over that bracelet. It was one of the only thing she had that reminded her of her home, and the fact that she was willing to sell it made him feel beyond guilty. "Are you sure, man? I can just get an actual job in town to go along with the whole bounty hunter shit. We'll have enough money in a few weeks if I do that." He failed to acknowledge that his injuries would prevent him from any real work for at least a few weeks.
"Are you kidding?" Bianca replied. "You can barely sit up in bed, and no one's going to hire a guy with broken ribs. Besides, it's just stuff." She shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. The bracelet had been given to her by Lena back on Naboo. Before the uprising, before the blood and death and chaos. But if it was all she had to sell…the choice was easy.
Winston was deeply conflicted inside, but the look in her eyes told him there was no arguing. Plus, she was right about how bad he was hurting. No rest for the wicked, though.
"If you're sure about it, then let's do it," he said, walking over to the gun laying on the table and slinging it over his shoulder. The pain wasn't going away anytime soon, but he's been hurt worse. Mind over matter he thought to himself as he looked around for his shoes. "I was told that some old fuck surfaced with a couple of Stormtroopers, lookin' around from valuable objects from different planets. He's throwin' out big money, too.
"How big?" Bianca asked. She grabbed a pair of macrobinoculars and slung them over her shoulder, then checked to make sure her blaster was still holstered. "Big enough for a one-way trip offworld?" Stars and skies, she couldn't wait to be off of Tatooine. She was starting to miss Naboo, really miss it as opposed to the dull throb of regret she often felt. She'd shoot a man dead for a chance to jump into one of the lakes after spending three months on a glorified dust ball.
"I sure as hell hope so," he mumbled running a hand through his hair and growling in frustration. "These god damn boots…."
He finally found them underneath the bed, surprisingly clean despite the environment they've been in. After a painful, curse-filled process, he managed to get both of the boots on the right feet, and one of them tied.
"Eh, fuck it," Winston groaned, straightening up again and wincing, "This'll have to do for now. I wouldn't be runnin' anywhere anyways."
"Damn right you won't be," Bianca replied. She kicked the wall lightly to get the dust off of her boots, but only succeeded in causing more to fall down. She swore loudly and adjusted her poncho-like jacket. "If I spend one more night on this Force-forsaken planet-" she started, then stopped, biting her tongue. She knew that she wasn't supposed to mention the Force, even if she couldn't use it. Yes, the New Republic wasn't like the Empire, but the fear of being overheard and handed to authorities still surrounded her all these years later.
"Never mind," Bianca said. "I just want to leave this place. Get some fuel and a cheap ship from Mos Espa, because I'm not going back to Mos kriffing Eisley, and maybe swipe a cheap astromech unit to use. Then I'll go to Tosche Station for converters, and we can get outta here before sunset." She looked out the hovel's window and saw the blazing twin suns. "Well, maybe a bit after sunset. You were out for a while."
"I'm lucky I ain't dead," he mumbled, reaching out and opening the door.
The stories that surrounded the name of Winston Locke were well known in the town of Mos Eisley, passed from person to person by word of mouth. He had been in the town for longer than a year at this point, since his escape attempt with Bianca ended with them getting shot down by a TIE fighter. While plenty of things had been told about him, but there were three major ones: That he killed an entire squadron of stormtroopers by himself during his time with the Rebellion, (An outright lie, since he was never a part of the Rebellion to begin with) he fought off 5 Tusken raiders after getting his left hand cut off, (only two, but still impressive) and that he had over 20 bounty kills to his name. (Actually true, but over half were with Bianca) The one thing that wasn't overstated was his accuracy with his rifle. There wasn't a straighter shooter on the planet of Tatooine, and if he didn't have such a party-first personality, they would've probably been off of the planet by now.
"Shit, I'm guessin' we don't have any pain meds?" he asked, stepping out into the desert air and letting out a loud sigh.
"I've got nothing," Bianca said, pulling her hood over her head. It kept the sun off of her, and it threw her face into obscurity, which was helpful. Beyond her travels with Winston Locke, she had her own set of stories. She'd been ten when the Death Star had fired on Alderaan, and the galaxy's railing against the Empire had only grown from there. At twelve, she was made a handmaiden to Queen Verluer, and by fifteen…
By fifteen she'd been trying to slide Naboo out of the Empire's grasp. By fifteen they had been scattered across the surface. By fifteen they had all fled or been killed. She could remember them clear as day, even the ones who'd died, like Lena, shot through the heart by the ISB, and Ania, who'd fallen so far with a knife buried in her back. And a part of her resented, even loathed, the ones who'd gotten away. Jezebel, who'd stolen a royal astromech and hotwired a docked ship to escape. Kaz, whose leg had been blown off at the knee and who Jezebel had saved. Trino, who she'd last seen propped up unconscious in the copilot's seat. And Mirana.
Mirana.
Mirana, who'd been so distraught at losing Ania that she'd fled. Mirana, who was supposed to have been picking off the imperial guards. Mirana, whose cowardice and grief that day had led to Lena's death. Though the girl had only been thirteen, Bianca couldn't forgive her. If Mirana had been there that day, Lena would be here now. Of course Mirana had gotten off planet, stolen a Naboo starfighter and slipped passed the busied blockade.
When Bianca got off planet, she'd find a way to make Mirana pay for what she'd done.
"But if we've got any credits left after we get all our shit together, I can get you some. Or maybe we'll find some spice runners."
"Spice runners, for sure," he decided, sliding his blaster in front of him and checking the large power cell that hung from the front of the trigger guard. Half-charged. It would have to do. "They're cheaper, and their shit lasts a lot longer."
They walked into the dirty, derelict town side by side, carrying their blasters in a casual but alert manner. Everyone's head turned when they walked past, no matter what the task. All of them wondered if they were the duo's next target and all of them breathed a sigh of relief when they passed without busting a cap into their asses.
"It appears our reputation precedes us," Winston mumbled to Bianca, giving her an amused grin despite the pain in his side. It was the thing he said every time they walked into Mos Eisley and it never seemed to get old to him.
The old Imperial hide-out was easy to spot, since two stormtroopers stood on guard at all times, their armor stained pink by the hard Tatooine sand.
"Hello, fellas!" Winston called cheerfully as the duo approached. The idea that the stormtroopers might be concerned by the stories told about him went right over his head. That was, until they leveled their E-11 blasters at his head. "Woah, where's the Imperial hospitality?"
"Probably blown up with the second Death Star," Bianca muttered. She moved to angle the slender muzzle of her blaster into the fabric of her poncho, but kept her finger on the trigger. The stormtroopers' helmets were caked with a thick layer of sand and dirt, the visors nearly brown with it. One stormtrooper stepped forward.
"Where do you two scumrats think you're going?" The trooper asked, his voice made gruffer through the modulation. Bianca's grip tightened on her blaster, slowly switching it from kill to stun. Last thing she needed was for the two of them to leave a corpse in their path. That hadn't worked out too well in their last escape, and had led to some very unflattering "wanted" posters.
"We came to look for you," Bianca said, summoning up all of that good-innocent-girl vibe that she'd had as Verluer's right hand. Well, it was more of an impression of Lena than anything else, but it served her well. If she went all fluttery eyelashes and wide eyes, she could lowball the two of them and get a better price. "We heard you were looking for some valuables, and…"
Bianca purposefully trailed off and raised her bracelet-clad arm to fiddle with her hood, allowing the metal to catch the light.
"I've got this," she added, holding out her arm.
The stormtrooper reached out and roughly grabbed her arm, his body twisting slightly as he slipped the bracelet from her arm. Winston caught a glimpse of the handle of a blaster poking out from a holster and recognized it immediately.
The Security S-5 was a heavy blaster pistol produced by Theed Arms for the Royal Naboo Security Force and only for the RNSF. It had a distinctive handle shape that no other blaster manufacturer was able to replicate, hence his recognition of the gun solely from it. It was well equipped with a kill and stun mode, a flashlight, and even a grappling hook.
"Hey, uh, bud," Winston said, leaning slightly to get a better view of it. Bianca's about to kill this guy. "Where'd you get that blaster?"
"Shut up," the trooper responded as he examined the bracelet, completely oblivious to the fact that the girl in front of is was Nabooian.
Winston stepped closer to his partner, gently tapping her hand in a discreet manner. They had developed a simplistic version of Morse code during their short time together as a way to talk in situations like this. He tapped her hand twice rapidly, then again, then one singular tap: S-5. Back. He prayed to whatever got watching over them that she understood the message because it was pretty vague.
Bianca's fist clenched as she felt Winston's message. An S-5? Was the man even from Naboo? Her eyes narrowed, and she contemplated how damn easy it would be to shoot the trooper and steal the blaster, but then remembered the second part of the message. Back. She knew she shouldn't pick a fight right now. Then again, maybe he meant to take the blaster back. She knew that probably wasn't his intention, but it would be one hell of a tool to have on her. And besides, no Imperial deserved to hold that weapon. She paused for a second, then faced the trooper.
"Sir, where did you get that blaster?" Bianca asked politely, willing her voice not to betray her rage.
"This thing?" He held it up for a moment too long, long enough to gloat. "Took it off a guard during the standoff. The poor bastard was knocked clear through the palace window, so I figured I might as well help myself."
So it was Filip's blaster then. Bianca kept her face emotionless.
"'Course Polaco did most of the work there, and the Order was more keen on those damn agents than us troopers. She got the glory, I got the guns. But last I heard, she's not so glorious now." The trooper continued.
"What've you heard?" Bianca prodded, though she knew she shouldn't.
"Well, little lady, I'm afraid that's confidential."
Confidential, my ass, she thought bitterly. If some basic stormie could know that bitch's whereabouts, so could she. Athena Polaco was barely behind Mirana Sunru on her list.
"How confidential?"
"Depends on how much you want for the bracelet."
Bianca turned to Winston. She couldn't waste their one chance of escape on Athena kriffing Polaco.
(Had to research USD to credits conversion)
They needed exactly 5,000 credits to buy themselves the shitty cargo freighter that was abandoned near the junk yard. the only reason why it was that high was because it had an extra booster just…..laying inside of the cargo hold when it was found. The damn thing was too heavy to pull out, so they just included it with the package.
"10,000 credits," Winston answered after a moment of deliberation. "Minimum."
"10,000?" the stormtrooper responded, obviously surprised. "Hell no. This thing is work 5,000 at most."
Could he've taken that offer as-is? Yes. But Winston was good at this negotiation shit. He was going to milk this motherfucker as long as he could.
"8,000. You're putting my balls in a vise here, though."
"6,000," The stormtrooper responded, his frown evident in his voice.
"7,250, take it or leave it."
After a lengthy debate between each other, the two stormtroopers opened the door behind them, handing Bianca her bracelet back. "The broker knows the amount you are to be given, so don't play any games. You will give the bracelet to him, and then get the fuck out once you get your money."