#( cm : lucas kuiega the hitman )

[vendettavalor]

// @tacticalvalor requested a bingo card!

LUCAS KUMIEGA

[vendettavalor]

Lucas was silent past the few words offered. Even throughout his hunt of the would-be assassin, he said very little. Yet in just seven words, he betrayed an uncanny familiarity to his voice. Something past the guttural gravel of a past smoking habit. Something smooth and low and sweet, ensnared in the memories of a history that began to blur despite the desperate attempt of the mind to preserve it as much as possible. Memories of a boy. A beautiful boy, just a little taller than her, and lanky but holding the promise of muscle if he could just get enough to eat, and the sweetest cheek dimples, and such warm brown eyes, and the most beautiful curly hair.

But... that was just a coincidence, wasn't it?

Fennec drew up a pouch full of credits in her hand, weighing it for a moment before tossing it to the bounty hunter. He caught it easily and felt its weigh in his own hand. He wasn't one to count. He knew the reliability of Boba Fett. He was expecting it to be the right amount. What he wasn't expecting was Fennec's followup.

"There's plenty more where that came from," a pause. "For both of you."

Her gaze flickered between the two of them, studying their movements, their responses. "You made quick work of this job. Showed up when called, got all of your details, and finished it up as fast as your started it. That's impressive. But then again, that's to be expected from a man of your reputation, isn't it? You pride yourself on being effective. That's why the name Lucas Kumiega has become so infamous in the galactic criminal underworld."

No. No, it couldn't be...

"As for you," Fennec turned her attention towards the captive. "You're not bad. You did your research, you were well prepared. You even managed to escape. Only downfall was the fact that you picked the wrong target." The smirk on Fennec's lips betrayed her amusement. On the other side of the throne, Delphine was markedly less impressed. Her lip curled slightly and she fixed Fennec with a puzzled, almost disbelieving expression. She could not believe what she was hearing.

"Still, you show a lot of promise. Clearly, you're not just an every day bounty hunter. You're trained. Well trained. The Daimyo could always use someone with your type of skill, Valeriya Khorkin." Sincere as the offer sounded, the revelation that they knew her name revealed it was a thinly veiled threat. (Beside her, the man who caught her seemed to finally betray a response by stiffening slightly.) She had two options now.

Join them, or be Rancor fodder.

⚔️ @tacticalvalor

There was both comfort and unease in the silence that'd greeted her statement. A familiarity in the way it'd blanketed between the pair. She was more than happy to accept it as it was, not being in much of a mood to chatter with the discomfort of the blaster against her spine (though if she were honest, she rarely was in such a mood). Their brief stop was the only thing to command her attention from the dense sands before them, dark eyes following the other's as he examined the speed-bike that sat in place. Valeriya took in the details of it, committing its image to memory should she escape the circumstances that'd awaited her.

But as the time passed, and as they came to a halt within the Daimyo's throne room… She suddenly began to feel less confident in the likelihood that she would. Especially as she was promptly shoved to her knees, and as well-trained eyes fell upon them. Those of her target: Boba Fett.

The visor of his helm concealed the way his eyes traveled over the pair, though the subtle tilt of his head was enough to give away his intrigue of the events that conspired to lead the two here. He had been a bounty hunter himself, and still often was, though taking a more… unconventional approach to the matter. Being sat atop the throne wasn't something many in their shared line of work did. Still, he seemed pleased in it. Pleased by the capture of his would-be assassin, and the straightforwardness of the captor as he watched the exchange between the two. Valeriya's eyes narrowed, muscles winding as she sent a terse look over her shoulder.

"I was." He stated, matching the bluntness of Lucas' own tone. Even still, he made it point to show his appreciation. "Didn't take you long, either."

A subtle gaze to his two guards. A subtle nod to signal Fennec to grab the payment from behind the throne.

[vendettavalor]

- @tacticalvalor

"Hm, love me that much~?" -> From Val, of course 🖤

"My heart has always been yours." He admits it honestly and with no hesitation. "Any other would struggle to measure up to the mark you have left in my soul."

[vendettavalor]

⚔️ WHAT FORM WOULD YOUR DAEMON TAKE? ⚔️

LUCAS KUMIEGA

FOX Your daemon would take the form of a fox! Those who have fox daemons are cunning and sly, socially savvy but preferring to work behind the scenes. Their expertise is charm and seduction, and their mastery over words combined with their playfulness makes them natural tricksters. Specifically, ARCTIC FOX Your daemon would take the form of an arctic fox! You are an observant and thoughtful individual with a refined aesthetic. More so than others with fox daemons, those with arctic foxes are more quiet, very logical and thorough and know how to put pieces into place. They are excellent at reading others' motivations and getting to the heart of issues, and are often judgmental people who take pride in their appearances. NAME: Basilikhan

[vendettavalor]

// throwback to that one time I made an animatic over the course of 3 days and this is still my favorite frame of it

[vendettavalor]

She knew how to pick her fights? She could have fooled him.

All this struggling like a helpless sand-mouse, kicking up a fuss and fighting so fervently in the dark night and for what? To still be caught under the claws of a seasoned dune-cat that had spent hours meticulously following her trail through the grains, stalking silently, letting her glance only the quickest glimpse of its tail before pouncing on her and taking her to the ground. If she was wise enough to pick her fights, she would have never done something to catch his attention to begin with.

Now, she was marched along. The barrel of the blaster sat tight to her spine, pressed painfully against the bone as she was led along like cattle to slaughter. Long and slow was there shuffling across the sandy grounds of Tatooine. Lucas stopped to look at his speed-bike, contemplating potentially taking her aboard to get to the palace faster. But he decided against it. A desperate mouse could still cause pain if it thought it had a chance to escape. Better to continue on foot.

So they did. They walked and walked, through the cold, dark night all across the sprawling sand city of Mos Espa until at last, they found themselves before the palace of the mighty Daimyo. The Gamorrean guards at the door crossed their spears before the two, only parting when they saw the tracking fob Lucas held up. He shoved her forward, continuing on until he stood in the throne room before Lord Fett and his entourage. He promptly kicked the backs of her knees, forcing her to kneel before him and look up at the Mandalorian, the Assassin, and the Foxfolk that sat just a few short steps above her.

"I believe you were looking for this." Lucas' voice was deep, gravelly. The sound of an echoing gunshot and the growl of a predator. He offered no theatrics to his presentation. He was too cold and too blunt for that.

⚔️ @tacticalvalor

The sudden weight on her was enough to bring Valeriya to the ground, and it was over as soon as it had started. She writhed when he had first began to grab at her, blaster abandoned and her sole focus on escaping the entrapment. Unfortunately, passionate as her efforts were, they were made moot once he'd planted himself and cuffed her. Yet she was still resistant as he'd yanked her to her feet. Heels pressed into the sands beneath their feet. Muscles tensed, and she briefly considered slamming her head against his in one last—perhaps vain—effort to deal the final blow. The blaster being pressed against her, however, disuaded her from the attempt.

At least, for now.

So, with one piercing gaze to her captor, Valeriya turned her head forward and walked. Allowed Lucas to guide her through the alleyway. Though not without complaint. One particularly rough shove earned another terse glance.

"Relax," her voice was quiet as she broke the silence between them, dripping with displeasure. Oddly familiar to the other assassin, too. "I know to pick my fights."

And if the rumors were true about what it was 'Lord Fett' did to those who dared make an attempt on his life, she'd need every bit of strength to confront the rancor he reared beneath the throne room. Or to survive his own confrontation, if he'd felt particularly motivated that day.

[vendettavalor]

A clean leap.

A perfect landing.

Both soles of his fancy dress shoes dug into her back, bringing down the full weight of his hard, muscled body down onto the woman and taking her to the ground. With crushing, bruising force, he pinned her into the sandy dirt below. Heels dug into shoulder blades, and hands came down from above to grab her wrists. With a simple twist and pull, he'd disarmed her and brought both arms behind her back. The element of surprise served him well.

He planted himself on her lower back to resist any bucking or kicking she might try and give himself more leverage to snap the cuffs on her. Once that was done, he rolled off and yanked her to her feet before him. The muzzle of his own blaster against her back, cold and steady, said all that he refused to.

It's over. I've won. Now start walking.

As quickly as it had started, the hunt was over. He walked away now with a golden prize to present to Lord Fett. A handsome reward would await him. And even more than the credits was the promise of reputation earned through the solidness of his work. Long term, this would do well for him. Keep food on his table and clothes on his back during such uncertain times. And that was all he could really ask for as he shoved her quite roughly back down the stretch of alleyway they'd come from and back towards the speeder bike he'd rode in on.

⚔️ @tacticalvalor

Mikhail would have been proud of that one. Had the assassin tailing her peeked around, this little chase of theirs would have been over before he'd realized it. It would have been clean. Efficient. Just how she liked her jobs.

But it wasn't efficient. It wasn't over.

Valeriya cautiously leaned around cover to gauge the situation once more, dark eyes squinting as she searched for any signs of movement in the burrow before her. Nothing. Painted lips twitched at the lack of being, head tilting a bit as she weighed her options. Gave him plenty of time to, had he still been there, take the shot on his own. And it was inevitably the lack of blaster fire that'd drawn her out of her hiding. Muscles wound as she breached the position behind the dumpster, her grip on the blaster steady as she closed the distance one step at a time. Her breaths slowed, nearly halted, as she raised her arms and prepared herself as she turned the corner to find—

Nothing.

Shit, this guy was good. Had it not been her life on the line, she'd be very impressed. For now, though? The verdict was still out. Especially as she'd realized she really was a mouse. She had no idea where he'd gone. What direction he'd moved to. What vantage he'd had. A brief glance up revealed nothing to her trained eyes, though she didn't linger on the possibility as she was surrounded by various street access points. A low sigh left her lips, and she began to stalk along the way they'd came. She was establishing a perimeter, just as he'd predicted. Eliminating their steps one by one until they'd eventually collided again.

And collide they would, albeit sooner than she may have expected.

[vendettavalor]

A bolt of plasma rushed past his head and scorched the wall in front of him. Lucas examined the darkening stain it left behind, the steam and the smoke that curled and rose up from it. A small tilt of his head. She was trained then. Perhaps getting away was an easy enough skill to master, especially for those who lived here on Tatooine. It was practically basic survival skills. But to know where to aim the blaster for a headshot. Impressive.

And not easily mastered.

Time for a different approach.

The assassin rounded the building silently. A loth-cat slinking about around the other edge of the building until he found himself a ladder. Silently, he began to scale it. If she was trained, she'd likely be covering the perimeter. The only way to ambush her would be to come from above. Luckily, that was something Lucas excelled at. Feet landed softly on the stone rooftop and moved quickly and silently to the other side.

At the edge, he crouched down and carefully peered over, eyes scanning between clothesline's dotted with hanging clothes and sheets, shadows stretched long by the dim laps at the edges of the street, until he found her pressed against the wall, watching with clutched blaster and bated breath for any sign of him jumping out to begin a wild series of blaster shots aimed with burning her. He wasn't so tactless though.

And she'd be worth more alive.

⚔️ @tacticalvalor

Good. He was following.

Yet too followed a sense of unease that rarely shook the assassin. A sense that she had all but considered defunct in her mind. Valeriya had seen her fair share of cruel individuals. After all, Mikhail was taking contracts for the Empire. Contracts that, more often than not, required her to be present at the meetings. But there was something… different about the coldness that radiated off of the man pursuing her. Something familiar in it, too.

It was terrifying… and exhilerating.

Which is why she slowed herself after creating, what she had felt, was enough difference between them. Why her grip on her blaster adjusted itself, tightening like the restrictive clutch of a snake on its prey. She felt fairly confident of where he had positioned himself, yet there were too many variables at hand to confirm it as she'd crouched behind a trash container.

For starters, it was dark. Too dark. The lights from the surrounding streets hardly bled past the tall buildings, and the sky above was void of any life itself. Second, he was clearly trained. His footfalls had grown lighter in his stalking, and the sound of her own had all but drowned them out. Now that she was still, she hoped she could rectify that mistake and listen for an approach. One that she knew was inevitable, for one of them would get tired—or perhaps bold—enough to make the first move.

And Valeriya decided to test the waters; to trust her gut. She took a breath and leaned around the dumpster bin, taking aim and firing at the wall where (if her gut was correct) his head would be tucked behind. It wouldn't bring harm to him. It would send a message.

She was more than willing to play this game, and she had all intentions of winning.

[vendettavalor]

Shit. He missed.

Oh well. The hunt went on.

He watched her scamper like a frightened rat, her silhouette falling in and out of shadows, footfalls beating against the ground in a sweet rhythm of fear that stoked the predatory hunger in him. He let her run, slowly stalking after her with the deliberate confidence of a carnivore that knew its prey was cornered and desperate. There was something infinitely more terrifying about how casual he was about this. Cold, calculating, and so so casual. Like this was normal for him.

Running would only make things worse. But he welcomed the prospect of a challenge from her. He knew she was baiting him and he entertained the prospect, dancing just around the edge of the trap. He didn’t outwardly chase her. He simply kept walking, pausing at the corners of walls and listening for her feet, her panicked breaths, her quivering fingers clicking the trigger of her blaster. Patient and cautious. Experienced.

Because he knew that even a worm would turn.

He was waiting for her to make the first foolish move.

⚔️ @tacticalvalor

Breath stilled just as the air did around the assassin, her gaze fixated on the path she'd walked. Now and again, she would peer to her side, ensuring that there was no other who would get the jump on her. Ensuring her exit was clear in the event she would have to flee. It was as her head turned back that a sudden light stunned her, the beam's red glow illuminating her features. Wide, brown eyes adorned in dark makeup. An agape mouth disguised behind the mask she wore. A pleated braid draped neatly over her shoulder, now swinging as her head had turned. The blaster that was rested against her core, her finger dancing past the trigger guard and along the curved metal.

There she was; almost within arm's reach, too. Either she was bold, or she had too much confidence in her abilities.

A short breath escaped her, jaw clenching as she bit back the urge to curse. She quickly scanned the surroundings, eyes darting as they adjusted to the sudden return to darkness. Damn her vision. Knowing her options were quite limited, particularly in this divet, she did something bold—or overly confident—and ran. Gave her position further as her foot falls echoed through the narrow passage in hopes he pursued.

Baiting him, and it seemed she was not new to the concept by any means.

[vendettavalor]

Lucas was never one for title and fame. He firmly believed in letting the quality of his work speak for itself. Operations he performed were done with such surgical precision, he left hardly a trace of the fact that it was an assassination. His clients that could afford him would happily pass along his name and bring him in new company without the attention of the Empire.

But even he had to admit a golden opportunity when he saw one.

Her head came with a sizable bounty and the promise of secure employment and recognition. The fact she might be Imperial was just the cherry on top. And so, he pursued the lead. Tracked her like a dune cat silently pursuing a sand mouse, waiting for that golden opportunity to get just close enough to pounce before she even knew what hit her. Maybe she have escaped Fett's fox, but she would not escape him.

He followed her into the alley, obscured by shadows. On silent feet, he walked, no echo from his shoes as he padded after her. Silent as a cat, he drew his blaster from its holster at his hip just under his suit jacket and drew it close to her chest, finger resting on the trigger as he drew closer and closer to the corner. Stalking her like a predator and its cornered prey. He slowed as he neared the turn, mirroring her stance against the wall. Breath held, he waited a moment, then leaned past it and fired a shot into the dark, briefly illuminating it with a piercing red glow and the smell of burning plasma.

«────── « CLOSED THREAD » ──────»

FOR: @vendettavalor MUSE: valeriya khorkin; former streetkid gone lethal assassin. inspired by au development!

The bounty hunting scene was set ablaze by the resurrection of Boba Fett. A former legend, seemingly gone to time, miraculously brought back to life and now leading Mos Espa beneath an iron fist. People were paying attention. They wanted the fame that would come with an alliance… or a takeover.

It was why the attempt on his life had become all the buzz. A mysterious assassin, alleged to be allied with the Empire, now on the run after Fett's own guards protected him. One remained while one gave chase, and it wasn't long before there was a bounty on this upcoming hunter. It was good money, and would mean good review should one complete it. After all, working for the Boba Fett? Earning his appreciation, or at the very least his thanks? That could get someone places.

It could get Lucas places.

Places like the dark, dank alleyway he found himself in. He'd tailed the shrouded assassin for a while now, monitoring her every move while waiting to strike. A place such as this would be perfect. Out of sight, forgettable… if a bit cramped for his personal tastes. Still, nobody would know he was there. Nobody would know of the assassin's death but him, lessening the likelihood that someone could swoop in and claim the bounty for themselves. Of course, it also meant that she could get the vantage on him. Could turn the tides and be the one to escape their encounter. If she had evaded Fennec, then it would not be out of the question that she could evade him…

But now wasn't the time to think of that. Instead, their cat and mouse game simply went on.

Valeriya could sense something was off as she looked at the navigator in her hand. She had to be close to Mikhail's drop point by now, and damned would she be if she were to let the bounty on her head dissuade her from picking up more work from him. She owed him that much, after everything, and he'd sworn to her that he would take care of the situation in the meantime. Still, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched. That someone was on her tail. And so she turned sharply, tucking herself into an offshoot of the alley and tucking the navigator into its pouch. She, too, unholstered the blaster from her hip, pressing her back to the wall and listening to the distant footsteps grow ever closer.

Listening for the perfect opportunity to strike her own hand.