(no dupes) Too many sweets. Just. Too many.

[directordisaster]

After the weapons' test on Jedha was a great success, that night (or what passes as "night" on the Death Star) Krennic is en route to his personal quarters to do a little private celebration. Technically, he throws a party in the officers' lounge, the one for high-ranking officers (although of course the petty officers and tech people are welcome to celebrate in their own lounges), but he avoided coming there right now since he heard that the Grand Moff is there, stealing his spotlight. Krennic knows that he can't possibly avoid him forever, but a drink or two from his own personal collection, and he would be gold dealing with his archrival and the bane of his existence. However, when he exited the turbolift to his level, he came out in a...strange place instead of the usual corridor with stormtroopers patrolling through it.

He ended up in the Plaza of the Nexus. He was first confused, then irritated, and started asking around (demanding more like) about where in the stars he is, and got the same explanation. Krennic couldn't really accept it, thinking that this was some sort of a weird dream or a holographic prank someone played on him (most likely Tarkin, to keep him out from his own party celebrating his own greatness), but while he is still in the phase of denial, a random someone foisted him with a bag of sweets, telling him "Happy Halloween" and left before Krennic could accost him, and then another, and then another. In the end, he ended up with too much sweets--foreign sweets that he had never even seen before--his hands full of it, and what's worse, one of those idiots who forcefully gave him that told him that he had a nice costume. They think he was dressing up for this weird "Halloween" event, whatever the kriff it is.

He should probably sit down, or drop all the sweets, or better yet, throw them to somebody's face since that's how infuriated Krennic is right now, but as it stands, he's currently standing in the middle of the plaza with hands full of sweets. Someone please help him. 

Comments

[sweetcandygirl]

One of the worst options of 'help' has arrived on the scene. Really, it was the stark contrast of the man in the white uniform, holding an armful of candy, that attracted Harley to come a little closer.

Harley is in the Halloween spirit herself. She is wearing a ringmaster costume. It compliments her hair, as she wears ponytails, one that is colored pink at the end, and the other is colored blue at the end.

"Wow! What a haul! Lucky!" She grins at him.

[directordisaster]

Krennic's...far from pleased right now, and it shows. He contemplates just leaving all of them in the nearest table or sofa and then bail (and perhaps just take one or two for himself, after all it's been a long while since he had a candy, no candy in the Empire especially not for its officers, and he just wanted to try it out, yes, not because he had a sweet tooth or anything), but unfortunately for him, before he could execute his plan, the woman approached him first.

She was a riot of colour, wearing some sort of a costume, and Krennic started to wonder if he stumbled on a celebration of sorts in this strange place. Well, his dream anyway. He must have fallen asleep somehow. This could only be a dream.

"A haul?" he said, noticing the way her eyes gleamed at that. "Why, of course. I have more than you. Aren't you getting anything? And people here thought I was wearing a costume." he said the last part with disdain, but he still relished having more candies than her, because Krennic is petty and it's an achievement of sorts, you know. "Is this some sort of a celebration?"

[sweetcandygirl]

"Tsk tsk tsk. Who says I don't have any?" Harley pulls her ringmaster hat off her head, waves a hand over it. And pulls out a chocolate bar. "A magician always has a trick or two up her sleeve."

She starts to unwrap her chocolate bar. Nodding slightly at his disdain that his outfit was called a costume. "Ya'think that people would notice that you take pride in that uniform. And to call it a costume... just shameful."

"You don't have Halloween in your world, Mistah?"

[directordisaster]

"That's impressive," he said, had to crack a little smile at that. He's still annoyed at ending up in this weird place, of course, but at least there is someone he can talk to. "So you're dressing up as a magician?" Krennic had never seen a ringmaster before, and besides, if there is, they would dress differently, space circus and all. Therefore he had to ask.

"Yes," he said, slightly relieved that someone understood his annoyance/infuriation. "I suppose I just arrived at the wrong time in this weird place. Still, no excuse to disrespect an Imperial officer like that," he crinkled his nose in disdain. "No, what's a Halloween? Does it has something to do with the costumes and the candies?"

[sweetcandygirl]

"A ringmaster actually. The leader of the circus... which is appropriate, since this place is the biggest circus I know." Harley grins brightly. "The trick with the ringmaster is that they have to know how to keep the audience entertained, which includes a magical trick or two."

"An Imperial officer." She smiles again.

"Halloween... or All Hallows Eve... has Pagan roots. Way back then, it was believed that by dressing up as the ghosts and ghouls on Samhain, that you could trick the dead instead of having them trick you. Now days, it is all about the candy. And a few tricks, too."

lol my wifi name is Clown Queen cos my sister loves Harley

[directordisaster]

"Is it?" Krennic said, intrigued, tilting his head to better look at her. "The biggest circus you've ever known? What is this place, actually? Don't tell me I've stumbled on a real freak show. That kind of thing usually only happens in the Outer Rim."

He spoke the last part with another sort of disdain, and studies her for a moment. "Why, of course. I am an Imperial officer. An important one, at that. Have you ever seen one of us around..." he gestures around the place vaguely, "...here?"

He lost his interest at what she said next. He wasn't very keen on celebrations, unless it involves the Empire in some way, or himself. "Oh, I see. It does sound like something some systems in the Outer Rim would celebrate. But I wouldn't know about that," he smiles, a little too brightly, "so are you going to trick me? Or are you going to show me the way to the nearest ship? I have my own party to get back to."

hope I do her justice. i love her too

[sweetcandygirl]

"The biggest. And I have been at a lot of circus... wait, what is the plural verb for circus. Hmmmm..." She bounces on her feet for a moment. "I used to date a clown."

"And this is the Nexus. A meeting place of many different worlds and different universes." She doesn't think that he will believe her. That is typical for her.

"Nope. Not another Imperial Officer. But I have seen some interesting stuff."

She smiles again. "I do love tricks, Mistah. But I don't think you want one of mine."

First time outing with Kraggles, please be gentle.

[lastravagerstanding]

Proving to be no help, ever, to anyone, Kraglin sort of sidles up in the way that only the consummate reprobates ever master and leans in to a distance that is 'too close' for almost sensibilities. This is, not least of all, because he's covered in engine grease at any given time and smells like the inside of a pirate starship.

He's not allowed to have the fin installed yet, so instead it's fairly apparent that he's had some pretty major cybernetics work done to the top of his head recently. The grin he flashes Krennic is one of a mouth full of metal teeth, not quite the right shape for his mostly human appearance.

"You gunna eat all them? Only, you don't much look like summun who wants all them sugary things."

you're doing fine so far, no worries!

[directordisaster]

Krennic is too busy contemplating about what to do with the sweets--he could try and track down the people who forcefully gave it to him, for example, and throw it in their face, and then arrest them in the name of the Empire for harassing an Imperial officer--that he doesn't realise Kraglin's arrival. He only realised it when he started to smell the stink, and like any normal person, he quickly jerked away, especially once he noticed that the other man is pretty much covered in engine grease. Krennic definitely do not want to get that on his pristine uniform.

"No, obviously not. They were foisted on me by some random idiots who didn't know that harassing an Imperial officer is an offence punishable by law," he said, with apparent disgust, not only at those people he mentioned, but also at Kraglin's not-completely-human appearance--the metal teeth were especially distracting. And that accent. He looked like a scum from the Outer Rim. "Smuggling, too. You certainly looked like the type."

He put some distance between him and the other man, not only because he's rude and taught to be fairly discriminative towards people who aren't completely human, or who just aren't human, stat, but also because he wanted to protect the sanctity and cleanliness of his uniform. "And please, do not stand so close to me, you will ruin my uniform. And I could smell you from miles away. Was everyone on this place like this?"

thank you

[lastravagerstanding]

This guy reminds him of Nova Corps. Only, about a thousand times more uptight, which is fairly impressive given the sticks wedged firmly up the Nova Corps.

"Oh, an Eem-peeree-al officer. Which empire's that then? You ain't Shi'Ar, definitely not Kree and Xandar don't call themselves empire." Kraglin sidles in closer again, purely to be a jerk because it makes the other man uncomfortable. "Look a smuggler? Nah, not a smuggler. Profit margin sucks."

Usually. Some things are worth smuggling, but Ravagers stand out a bit too much to be good at it. "White seems awful silly for a uniform. Can't get anything done in white without showin' the blood. Or the grease. No idea 'bout this place. Where are we?"

[directordisaster]

"What?" Krennic said, more irritated now than ever, especially since this man was clearly making fun of him. And stars, those grease, and the smell. It offended his Imperial sensibilities so much, and Krennic moved away again, putting more distance between them, scowling at Kraglin. "Don't come any closer again," he growled, an obvious warning. "And I've never heard of any of that. I am an officer of the Galactic Empire, the only Empire, under the leadership of the great Emperor Palpatine." he lifted his chin while he said that, looking at Kraglin imperiously and smugly, obviously proud of what he is and of his part in the Imperial cog machine. "You do look like a smuggler from the shadier parts of the Outer Rim to me," he said, giving the other man another condescending look. "Probably after taking a dip in the Sarlacc pit because you smelled like Bantha poo. But if you're not a smuggler," Krennic looked him up and down, "then what are you?"

He dumped all his sweets on the nearest table, snagging only a chocolate bar and an interesting looking candy for himself, hoping Kraglin won't notice. Then he glared at him again, at the jab on the colour of his uniform. "I'm Imperial Intelligence," he said, stiffly. "Tarkin Initiative. Weapons Research. Director of it, to be exact. So you see why I wear what you call 'awful silly for a uniform'," he said. "Technically, it's all classified, but since we're here in this stars abandoned place, I don't think it matters."

Krennic was obviously proud of his uniform too, because being in the Division--leading it--is one of his most proudest achievements, although clearly not as much as building a mobile battle station the size of a small moon capable of destroying cities and planets with a single button, so insulting it is a very bad idea. He's already planning to ditch this smelly, offensive man, and find someone else to talk to, someone who won't give him tons of sweets or thinks his uniform is a costume or, well, a smelly, offensive smuggler.

"I don't know," he shrugs. "I read the pamphlets and they call it the Nexus. That was before they gave me the sweets. I'd just arrived, too."

[lastravagerstanding]

Kraglin pulled a face. It might be meant to be an appeasing expression, or it might just be displeasure at being called out on sidling closer but as soon as the food was dumped on a table, he was sidling up to that instead, far more interested in the allure of eating than harassing someone with a giant stick up their ass.

"Ain't heard of no Galactic Empire, no Pal- pal-pee-teen or a Sarlacc pit." Being given condescending looks wasn't a bother; Yondu had given them all the time and the man was the closest he had to a best friend.

"... 'm a-" He paused, frowning. Reached up and scratched at the tattoos on his neck. "Well. Guess I ain't a Ravager no more. Ain't a Guardian. I dunno. Guess I'm between jobs since Yondu killed everyone and then got himself spaced."

He took one of the sweets and unwrapped it, sniffing it before giving it an experimental lick. "I'm Kraglin Obfonteri, former First mate of the Eclector, of the Ravager 99th."

i'm sorry he's a rude asshole

[directordisaster]

Throughout all of this, Krennic watched Kraglin with an expression somewhere between fascination and disgust, or perhaps fascinated disgust, like a xenobiologist watching a particularly morbid and disgusting flesh-eating bacteria from some backwards Outer Rim planet. After all, Krennic is a scientist--an engineer and an architect more like--so he had that scientific curiosity, although clearly not as much as his old friend Galen, and he did carry himself with a soldierly mien than a scientific one.

"I've never heard of any of that either," he said, still observing Kraglin, managed to reined in the disgust somewhat. "Guess we really are at the crossroads between worlds and universes. Or so the pamphlets and the welcome party told me. Not the one who gave me all those sweets," he added, watching the other man moved towards the dumped sweets. Now this is xenoanthropology, Krennic never thought that he would be put in this sort of situation, but here he is. He probably should take out his datapad and make some notes. What an...interesting specimen. And the smell. It brings out the scientist in him, even if he's more into engines and weapons and machines than people and alien beings.

"It's Emperor Palpatine," Krennic corrected. "Stars know that if you pronounce his name like that and my Death Troopers are with me, I'll arrest you. But as it stands, I seem to have left behind in my universe...or whatever. Infuriating."

A brief pause, as he studied the other man some more. Contemplating putting more distance between them, too. "Did this Yondu guy kill you too? I mean I would, considering your smell. But you probably have your uses."

A mechanic, most likely, or a tech of sorts, Even when he was still an engineering student in Brentaal, Krennic had never been covered in that much grease. He's judging him so bad. "I've never heard of your ship. But that means you're a spacer, then," he said, tilting his head, the gears in his head turning. "Means you could get me out of here, since I don't trust all the 'just step into the right door and you'll end up back home' Bantha poo."

He paused for a moment, considering whether or not to introduce himself back, gauging Kraglin's usefulness. "I'm Director Krennic, of the Advanced Weapons Research Division in the Imperial Intelligence," he told him, grudgingly. "If you have a ship of sorts, you should consider borrowing it to me. I have a very important event to get back to."

it's okay, kraglin is too

[lastravagerstanding]

The sugary confection definitely had more interest for Kraglin that annoying the uptight bloke. He bit into the candy, those metal teeth proving more that decoration as they easily sheared through it. He rolled it in his mouth, waiting for any allergic reaction before deciding it must be safe and swallowing it down. "Not bad," he mumbled. "Prob'ly don't go off, neither. What?"

He contemplated it for a bit, eating the rest of the sweet. "... oooh, like a place where all these different dimensional existences can, whachacallit... meet for a singular shared reality." Looked and sounded like a backwards hick; was actually capable of maintaining and running hyper advanced technology and understanding the science to do so.

"Sure, him, Emperor Palpiteen." Kraglin, being marginally less of an asshole than Yondu was, was still an asshole. "Yeah, sure, whatever. I got arrested a lot, never sticks none." He stuck a finger in his ear, wriggling it about.

And then started laughing. It wasn't a pretty laugh. It involved some hacking and clutching his cybernetics, because laughing like that hurt a lot so soon after surgery, but this guy was hilarious. "Borrow you a starship? You're fuckin' hilarious, you should go on stage!"

[back_in_business]

The Ethereal in the flowing conjuror's robes pauses a moment to take in the sight of the irritated human with his hands full of candies. Though he comes from a completely different universe, Xevozz recognizes an officer's uniform when he sees one. No foot soldier would dare go into a battle wearing a billowing cape. No, that's an outfit of a man in charge. Or a man who wants to be in charge.

Either way, it might be worth further investigation...

Reaching into the violet void of the space between his enchanted wrappings, he pulls out a large red lollipop and adds it to the pile. "An authentic Styleen's suckerpop," he comments drolly. "I didn't realize it was already Hallow's End."

[directordisaster]

Krennic has a certain sort of premonition, a feeling that someone or something is nearby, but as always, he was too wrapped up in his own aggravation to care. He could just dump all of this on the floor, he thought. After all, he doesn't want this, nor ask for any of this. He certainly had taken the wrong turn, after that turbolift. He sighs, and was about to accost the nearest person so he can vent out his anger and dump his sweets on them, when a certain someone (Being?) added a large red lollipop into his pile. He scowled at the person doing that, but at least this one stuck around long enough for him to do that to him.

"What do I care? I have no use for...these," he pressed his lips into a thin line, clearly displeased. "What the kriff is a Styleen's suckerpop, anyway?" not that Krennic wanted to know in particular, but the words already escaped his lips. "I didn't realise I was in a place with so many idiots, some of which thinks that I am in costume," he snarled, clearly angry with this assumption. "Now who are you?"

Sorry it's taken me so long to tag! D:

[back_in_business]

"It's a candy from Azeroth," he answers, blatantly ignoring the man's irritation. "My former world was fond of costumes and sweets around this time of year. I personally don't have stomach for it."

He'll let Krennic enjoy that pun for a moment before turning on the charm, his already rich voice turning unctuous and conciliatory. "My name is Xevozz, a humble arcane weapons merchant currently headquartered in the Shopping District. And to whom do I owe the pleasure of speaking? You're obviously not in costume. A man of your qualifications and standing would dare to degrade himself with such a frivolous display."

It's okay, i'm technically on a semi-hiatus so it'd took me forever too. you're good!

[directordisaster]

"I don't really have a stomach for it either," Krennic said, still scowling, still holding the pile of unwanted sweets, now with a big red lollipop on top of it too. "So you don't mind if I put all of these into the nearest table, do you?" and, since he never asked nor waited for permission, he indeed dumped them all into the nearest table, only taking one chocolate bar and one interesting-looking candy. Then he makes his way back to Xevozz. "It's not like we ate sweets and chocolates, in the Imperial military," he said, his earlier irritation still lingers. "Quite the opposite, actually."

His interest perks up for a bit at the mention of 'former world', and he didn't miss the pun, but didn't quite return it, either. Sadly, they didn't only ban sweets and chocolates in the Empire, but probably also puns and fun. "Former world, you say?"

Praising him and validating his already huge ego definitely got Krennic's attention, and it managed to defuse his hair trigger temper, too. Although he generally looked down on merchants, as well--actually, he looked down on everyone who doesn't contribute to the war effort in some way, especially merchants, who in his world are often another world for smuggler, and smugglers often intersected with Rebels, also known as the worst kind of scum in the galaxy--but this one certainly knows how to get his attention. Krennic smiled, turning on his charm, as well. He is as well-versed in the art of mingling as he is in the art of weapons and partying, with the right company, and with people who doesn't belittle or insult him in any way.

"Thank you," he said, almost gracious, but at least sounding genuine. "Yes, obviously I'm not in costume. These idiots just didn't know any better. They didn't know I could arrest them for harassing an Imperial officer," he added, tilting his head to better look at the other. "And I am indeed an important person," he smiled again. "Coruscant owes its most magnificent buildings to me. And I've built the greatest thing, no, the greatest contraption human beings could ever hope to achieve." he paused, slightly, smiling privately, remembering his achievements. He's going to get back to his own world soon, and to his party, and everything is going to be okay. The Death Star is going to be his. It was a comforting thought. "Ah, I apologise for the tangent. I'm Director Krennic, of the Imperial Intelligence. It was a pleasure to meet you."

[back_in_business]

Candy might not be his thing, but Xevozz can't help but notice how Krennic keeps a couple of treats for himself. "I operated mostly on Outland, but my network extended to Azeroth as well," he explains. "Unfortunately, I had to... relocate. The Nexus has been most welcoming in that regard."

He's not about to spill the beans to a potential client that he was serving out a lifetime sentence on Dalaran before he escaped. It's bad for his image.

"Likewise, Director," he murmurs, when Krennic finally gets around to introducing himself. So, this Imperial officer doesn't seem to realize that he is a long, long way from Coruscant or wherever it is that he's from. And yet he seems unfazed by speaking with an Ethereal. "Oh, and please don't apologize. I must admit, you have me quite intrigued over this invention of yours. Would you care to tell me more about it?"

[directordisaster]

Well, it's been a while since he ate something sweet, and those things are pretty much banned in the Imperial Military, and Krennic's chosen main vice is alcohol, so this is something of a chance to introduce a little variety in his life. He did hope that Xevozz wouldn't notice, though. "Oh, I see," he said, trying to sound enthusiastic about this conversation. Orson Krennic wouldn't be Orson Krennic if he's genuinely interested in whatever other people was saying that wasn't about him or his achievement. "And this...Azeroth. Where is it? As far as I understand, the Nexus is a meeting point of different universes and worlds, or so I've read before I got foisted with sweets, but is it a planet? A system? A city?"

It's a good move on Xevozz's part not to divulge his criminal information. Krennic doesn't particularly liked criminals, although ironically, he is a war criminal himself. The irony level is over the roof here.

"Oh, of course," Krennic said, suddenly becoming very interested in the conversation. As he had previously said, he was aware to some degree that he was in the Nexus, but it did not yet hit him how far he is from his own galaxy (which, by the way, is also far, far away) and he's only started to realise that the person he's speaking with wasn't entire human. But at least they seem courteous and intelligent enough. "It's called Project Stardust, and we had just levelled an entire city with it from orbit. Although of course this is top secret, classified information. But it is my life's work," he smiled, a little wistfully, to himself than to his conversation partner. "And we're in the Nexus now or whatever, aren't we? So it doesn't matter all that much, I suppose."

[back_in_business]

A keen businessman does his best to notice everything. Even if he doesn't seem to have eyes, or... any facial features, really. Still, there's something about the tilt of his head that suggests vague amusement. From one liar to another, he gets the impression that Krennic is faking some of his enthusiasm. That's fine by him; the less he needs to divulge about himself, the better. Still, he goes through the trouble of answering his polite inquiry. "You are quite right about the Nexus. As for Azeroth, it is a planet. Outland was a planet formerly known as Draenor until there was an unfortunate incident involving the Burning Legion and a cursed orc. Now it is merely the shattered remnants of its former glory."

The interest Xevozz shows when the conversation turns to Krennic's accomplishment is quite genuine. He leans in a little, hands resting loosely on his hips. "An entire city?" he repeats, clearly impressed. "That is quite a weapon... ah, I don't suppose if you could tell me if there is any arcane energy involved, or if it is purely based on technology? I realize that your project is classified," he adds quickly to smooth past any potential reluctance, "But as you so astutely noted, we are in the Nexus, and not your home universe. Any sort of non-disclosure contract is null and void here."

[literalidiotball]

Wheatley had managed to get settled in. Here he is, currently resting next to a decorative pumpkin on a table, contenting himself with greeting the passers by. This wasn't too bad of a place, you know. No testing, no humans to have to keep track of, nothing was on fire... Things were good.

Then this guy shows up with a huge pile of sweets. Wheatley does the logical thing and talks to him.

"Hey! Hey, hey! Spiffy costume you got there, mate! What's it supposed to be? No, wait, don't tell me- You are dressed as... Uh... Colonel Sandurz? From Spaceballs? Except the outfit's white, so... That can't be it."

[directordisaster]

Krennic is having a bad day. It was good this morning until Tarkin told him to only destroy a city and not the entire moon, and then it snowballed from there, culminating in this moment in this stars abandoned place, where people thought his uniform was a costume and gave him tons of sweets that he had no use for. He doesn't have a proper idea of where he is just yet, just that he's somewhere called the Nexus. And he was still worrying about the celebration back home, the party where he was supposed to be the star of it, not kriffing Grand Ass Tarkin.

He was more than a little surprised when Wheatley greeted him, but immediately registers him as a droid. Only, a droid wasn't supposed to have such a...liberal programming, much less Imperial ones. And the way it talks. Stars, Krennic wanted to drag it personally to maintenance for a little tidying up. Or he could always do it personally. After all, engines and droids were one of his specialities other than architecture and weapons.

"This isn't a kriffing costume," he hissed, angrily. "And I don't know who the kriff you're talking about. Stars, you're all kriffing idiots here, aren't you? You see an Imperial officer and you kriffing assumed that it's a kriffing costume." he let out a tortured, drawn out sigh, as if contemplating whether to murder someone or not. "Droid, why don't you take these things off my hands?" he ordered. "Aren't you programmed to help your human masters?"

[literalidiotball]

"Wha- You don't have to shout, mate! I'm right here, you know."

This guy sure is rude, isn't he? Wheatley would take more offense if he wasn't already half-used to being yelled at by Her.

Not that it made the yelling less frightening. No, far from it. He couldn't help but shiver a little.

"Uh... Look, I don't know what a 'kriff' is, but I don't actually have any arms or anything..." He moves his upper handle a little like he was demonstrating something. "But you know what you can do? You can just leave the candy on the table here... Make a neat little pile or something... So maybe some other people with sweet tooths can have it, since you don't seem to appreciate sweets that much."

Please don't kill him. He's only a stupid robot trying to live his robot life.

[directordisaster]

"I am NOT shouting," Krennic said, glaring, obviously raising his voice, and clearly shouting. "Maybe it's your circuits that's impaired. You probably needed maintenance, droid. Where's the maintenance droids around here? I should call them to haul you over to the maintenance workshop," he said, tone dropping but isn't any less rude or displeased. "Or I could do it myself. I used to fix broken droids back at school, you know. You're no different."

Then Krennic looked him over, studying him, though it's hard to do, with all the sweets he's holding. He glared at Wheatley, then sighed, but his expression hardened again. "That's the first good suggestion I've heard all day, so perhaps you are not in dire need of maintenance and probably a memory wipe," he said, making a beeline to the nearest table, and dumped all the sweets in there. Just to spite other people, he mixes them all together, not exactly making a mess, but people who enjoys categorising things and people who enjoys sweets in one pile and chocolates in another would probably cringe. Then he strode back to Wheatley. "Even if you should be the one doing it, droid. How come you don't have arms? What's your programming? Are you a welcome droid in this place? What's this place? How can I get back?"