𝙖𝙣𝙖𝙠𝙞𝙣 𝙨𝙠𝙮𝙬𝙖𝙡𝙠𝙚𝙧 𝙞𝙢𝙖𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙨

• magic man •

  
"You're asking me to do the impossible," You grumbled, spraying yourself with sweet-smelling perfume. "This is never going to work."

"He's here almost every night, gets drunk out of his mind, and doesn't leave until he's kicked out," Pavo replied with an eye-roll. "He is not the same man that destroyed the Sith. He is but a shell of his old self, making him an easy target."

"Can't we just leave him be?" You asked, turning to face him. "He's barely even a Jedi anymore."

"He killed Father," Pavo stated bluntly, glaring at you. "Did you just forget that?"

"It was his job to kill him," You argued. "Everyone has a job."

"And now it's our job to avenge him!" He yelled.

You didn't respond, your eyes downcast as you focused on the ground.

"You may not have agreed with what he was a part of, but he was still our father," He continued, before raising an eyebrow at you. "Now, are you gonna do this or not? Because I could just find another way-"

"I'll do it," You cut him off with a sigh, nodding. "I'll do it."
     
      
      
You entered the dimly lit club, scanning the tables of drinkers. There was a band playing jazz music on stage, the smooth tones doing their best to calm your nerves, but failing. And then, you spotted him. 

Anakin Skywalker was sitting alone at a small circular table, multiple empty glasses and bottles surrounding him. His head was in his hands, but you knew it was him. You walked over and sat down besides him, causing him to look up at you with a slight frown.

"You okay?" You asked him with a raised eyebrow. "You've been here a while."

"Muh," He groaned, a lifeless look in his eyes. "Don't wanna... go home."

"Well, this place closes in an hour, so you're gonna have to go home eventually," You explained, slowly reaching your hand into your pocket.

He rested his chin on the rim of his glass, a slight pout on his lips. "I hate home."

"That sucks," You sighed, trying your best to sound sympathetic while watching as he moved his head down to rest it on the table. Glancing around to ensure nobody was looking, you took out the small vial of Charon venom from your pocket and quickly poured it into his drink, putting the vial away once it was empty. You used the Force to mix in the poison with the drink, so that it was unnoticeable.

He lifted his head again, his eyebrows furrowed. "Is it still Taungsday?"

"You seem to be going through something," You commented, leaning closer to him. "Why don't you finish your drink?"

"Good idea," Anakin mumbled, picking the glass up and holding it to his lips. The glass was tilted upwards and you watched in anticipation as the liquid glided towards his mouth, but before he could take a sip, a large Chistori male grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back.

"You owe me, Magic Man!" He growled with narrow eyes. "Pay me, or that will be your last drink."

You inwardly sighed at the interruption, though death by Chistori was still death, after all.

"Fuck off," Anakin replied with a wave of his hand. "I owe you shit."

"Oh yeah?" The man picked Anakin up before throwing him into the table, breaking it and sending all the bottles and glasses crashing into the ground - including the glass with the venom in it. You cursed yourself for not bringing more with you.

Before the Chistori could kill him, the club owner came over in a hurry, flailing his arms around. "No, no, no! Not tonight, Mota!" He turned to look down at a groaning Anakin before rolling his eyes. "I should've known. I've had enough of you, drunkard! From now on, you're banned!" He gestured for the security guards to come over, two of them lifting up Anakin and dragging him to the door before throwing him out onto the streets.