Looks great! Can't wait to meet some of these infamous Blackguard.
freedomliveson
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STATUS: Taking off early thanks to crazy personal stuff. Posts on Tuesday! 6 yrs ago
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El Taco Taco,
The Elvenqueen
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6 yrs ago
Current
Taking off early thanks to crazy personal stuff. Posts on Tuesday!
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6 yrs ago
Life can be...just wow. Lessons learned from my hiatus: it's ok to be vulnerable with those you care about, the people who love you will always remain in your life and be true to what you want.
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6 yrs ago
Aaaaand work got busy again. Breaking my rule of posting on Friday, but that'll be when I have time again.
6 yrs ago
Tied up at work! Be back tomorrow.
6 yrs ago
In the words of a famous Scottish king; "T'was a rough night". Taking off early for the weekend. Posts back on Monday!
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Bio
"She'll make soap out of you. That's what she does. Makes soap out of people."
-Little kid, Big Fish
-Little kid, Big Fish
Most Recent Posts
Yay! I'll get to that tomorrow...more papers to grade xD
The moment she agreed lifted a GIGANTIC weight off his shoulders, the duo sharing a tender embrace on the balcony after her poking fun at his inability to choose socks and telling him quite frankly that he could've picked anything.
"Well, it was between that ring and a hollowed out credit chip. I figured you would've liked the former rather than the latter." He shot her a mirth filled smile as he got back into his seat. Yerbol hadn't even tasted the dessert, so focused instead on his now bride to be(chills) that all of his senses were directed at enjoying her company. They strolled through the grounds, arm in arm, quietly sharing their thoughts while savoring the momentary divide from the bleak realities of the galaxy that they knew would hit them in the face sooner or later. For now, though, nothing mattered except her. No, not just her. Them. Together.
Chills.
___
"When did you promise that?! I don't remember making any kind of...oh. Oh this wasn't made when I was around, was it?" He sighed melodramatically, bringing her closer as he told her in the most resigned tone he could muster:
"I suppose we can tell her first...although the smug sense of satisfaction that she'll be wearing on her face might be too much for me to bear." There was a moment of quiet between the duo, prompting a realization in the Champion's mind.
"We're going to have a wedding ceremony, aren't we?" He looked down at her with amusement.
"Where are we going to have it? Coruscant isn't exactly the prettiest spot. Maybe here? It'd be pretty significant. We can't exactly have it on MY home planet...unless we want Rakghouls to show up as the flower girls." Suddenly the thought of Rakghouls prancing down an aisle strewing orchid petals from wooden baskets flitted through his mind, a chuckle escaping his throat.
"We can figure that out in the morning, though, huh?" He closed his eyes, left arm cradling Aria's form, words falling out:
"I could get used to this for the rest of my life."
____
“That can’t be right.”
“But that is the order we received, sir!”
“Yes, but…” Yerbol sighed, shaking his head in resigned disapproval.
“Just set them up wherever you need to.” The Zabrack lifted her nose in haughty disapproval, strolling back to her cargo van filled with autumn blossoms and daffodils before pointing at them to gain the attention of her mixed species crew. The squadron of decorators began their work of arranging flowers, dotting the hedges that created the square shaped enclosure normally used for group meditation with the incorrect plants. They had ordered different flowers entirely…and yet, they still would enhance the day. A smile creased his face as he scanned the area in approval, noting the arch covered in white lotus blossoms set at the opposite end of the garden, said arch having a background of vibrant flora from both the decorative flowers and the already present foliage that the Academy students were growing on their own in conjunction with the gardeners hired on before they opened their doors to students. In front of the arch were white padded chairs in rows of ten horizontally and vertically, allowing for seating of around one hundred people. Originally their ceremony was intended to be small in nature, but the list of invitees grew as they planned, the duo deciding finally on capping the number at one hundred. He vividly recalled exclaiming that they probably hadn’t befriended a hundred people between the two of them, yet it seemed like ever since they announced their engagement, more and more individuals crawled out of the figurative woodwork to offer their congratulations and not so subtly hint at their desire to attend. Not only was the growing number of people an issue, but also deciding on who would be in his grooms party. He eventually decided on Abbeth and Manso, seeing as those are the two men he interacted with the most and actually kept in touch with(other than Bex of course). His original selection for best man was his father, but after telling him his plan, Vol shook his head and proclaimed that it would be good enough for him to sit in the audience and watch this “momentous occasion happen right before my eyes”.
It had been great to have the kind of support his parents and…well, everyone else close to them offered. Neta, after cackling gleefully on their holocall the day after the proposal, swore that she would get the best caterers in the galaxy, no questions asked. The Elders offered the meditation garden as an optimal place for the ceremony, going so far as to cancel all classes that day and encourage the students to witness a public endorsement of marriage as a healthy part of the Qyaari philosophy(done right of course). As presiding tie-breaker, Voldon was given the right to officiate the ceremony and aided in the logistical planning along with those in the newly minted Alliance Information Service(a play on the old SIS acronym) base just down the way from the Academy. Many of the students volunteered to help set things up, mail invitations and aid wherever they could, which was gigantic help. This was extremely comforting to the couple, who had spent the three months attempting to cram in a year’s worth of wedding planning into a short span of time. They managed to carve out time for themselves when they could, but SO much of their days were spent planning that they could only look at each other with exhausted eyes before crawling into each other’s arms at night and falling asleep.
During the course of this planning, it became evidence that there were a number of people that were more concerned about attending for the sake of “being important” rather than any sentimental attachment to the couple. Yerbol had received a message from a supposed second cousin and his family begging for an invite along with a few other “uncles” and “cousins removed”. Where was all this coming from? Was it because of their renown status? Was it the notion that people could “rub shoulders” with “important” figures? Was their wedding indicative of the “freeloaders” that would continually hound them as long as they stayed in the public spotlight?
This line of questioning was cut short(thankfully!) by a massive hand clapping him on the back, nearly knocking the wind out of his chest.
“Big day is finally here, huh?” Bex stood next to him, three piece suit and all.
“No one ever tells you that the best part of the day is knowing you’ll never have to plan another one of these.” A shared chuckle as Yerbol looked past the entrance to the meditation garden up towards the stone steps to the back entrance.
“How are things inside?”
“Just walking through made me antsy. Catering people are fussing at anyone that goes near the dining hall, the students are all buzzing around asking anyone around if ‘the wedding started yet’ and the guests are all chumming it up in the atrium.”
“Anyone seen Ari?”
“Nope…well, scratch that, I saw her this morning running past me with Neta in the command center for reasons I do not know nor was I interested in knowing judging on the way they were shooting laser beams out of their eyes.”
“Stressful times.”
“Man, it’s a WEDDING. Should be a joyful occasion, not a time for people to get jazzed up.”
“Fair point.” He shifted in his jacket uncomfortably, loosening his tie as the sun bore it’s full strength on the garden.
“Joyful, man.” Bex patted his arm, noting the strained look on his friend’s face.
“I know. Believe me, if it wasn’t for the planning and…well, everything AROUND the ceremony, I’d be much more enthusiastic.”
“You’d better be more than enthusiastic when she shows up.” A genuine smile crossed the young Champion’s face.
“Oh I will be.”
______
The guests had filtered in, Yerbol chatting with a few guests here and there, but staying at the arch for the most part in position for when the ceremony actually began. It was strange to see the intermingling of people: his mother laughing with a few of the younger students, Janika and Neta making hand motions towards some of the foliage, Elara and Matt conversing in a corner with mutually stern expressions among the highlights that he was able to process while in the most nervous condition of his life.
“Stop worrying.” Voldon chided, the Battlemaster’s tone more playful than normal, which may have coincided with his clothing. Instead of his normal beige robe and armored leggings, he was wearing an aqua colored tunic with dark pants, making him seem more…well, approachable.
“I’m not worried.”
“Don’t argue with your Elders.” A momentary pause.
“It’s just…” He cast a wary eye at the officiating Elder as he elaborated:
“I don’t want to screw this up. She’s so great and I…I can’t imagine living without her. What if I do something to drive her away?” This elicited a guffaw from the Elder, one so powerful that some of the guests who were beginning to find their seats looked up in alarm.
“Yerbol, something I’ve learned is that when a woman loves you, TRULY loves you, she will love you unconditionally. There were times that I made some terrible decisions, ones that I regret because they caused Kira harm. But she would tell you the same thing in regard to some of her decisions. We’re human. Fallible. We WILL make mistakes, but the beauty of marriage is that even through all the stupid mistakes, our love for each other will never be extinguished.” Yerbol sighed in regret.
“I wish that you were my Master when I was training.”
“No you don’t. Ask Kira about what it’s like.”
“Kira was your Padawan?” A grin.
“A story for another time.” Music gently floated in from speakers cleverly hidden in the hedge walls, guests taking the cue and seating themselves. After a few minutes of getting sorted out, the entrance music for the groom and bridal party began, Yerbol silently hoping that “the bestest man ever” Bex had gotten Manso and Abbeth sorted out in their roles as groomsmen. Otherwise, the processional would be off to a rocky start.
"Well, it was between that ring and a hollowed out credit chip. I figured you would've liked the former rather than the latter." He shot her a mirth filled smile as he got back into his seat. Yerbol hadn't even tasted the dessert, so focused instead on his now bride to be(chills) that all of his senses were directed at enjoying her company. They strolled through the grounds, arm in arm, quietly sharing their thoughts while savoring the momentary divide from the bleak realities of the galaxy that they knew would hit them in the face sooner or later. For now, though, nothing mattered except her. No, not just her. Them. Together.
Chills.
___
"When did you promise that?! I don't remember making any kind of...oh. Oh this wasn't made when I was around, was it?" He sighed melodramatically, bringing her closer as he told her in the most resigned tone he could muster:
"I suppose we can tell her first...although the smug sense of satisfaction that she'll be wearing on her face might be too much for me to bear." There was a moment of quiet between the duo, prompting a realization in the Champion's mind.
"We're going to have a wedding ceremony, aren't we?" He looked down at her with amusement.
"Where are we going to have it? Coruscant isn't exactly the prettiest spot. Maybe here? It'd be pretty significant. We can't exactly have it on MY home planet...unless we want Rakghouls to show up as the flower girls." Suddenly the thought of Rakghouls prancing down an aisle strewing orchid petals from wooden baskets flitted through his mind, a chuckle escaping his throat.
"We can figure that out in the morning, though, huh?" He closed his eyes, left arm cradling Aria's form, words falling out:
"I could get used to this for the rest of my life."
____
“That can’t be right.”
“But that is the order we received, sir!”
“Yes, but…” Yerbol sighed, shaking his head in resigned disapproval.
“Just set them up wherever you need to.” The Zabrack lifted her nose in haughty disapproval, strolling back to her cargo van filled with autumn blossoms and daffodils before pointing at them to gain the attention of her mixed species crew. The squadron of decorators began their work of arranging flowers, dotting the hedges that created the square shaped enclosure normally used for group meditation with the incorrect plants. They had ordered different flowers entirely…and yet, they still would enhance the day. A smile creased his face as he scanned the area in approval, noting the arch covered in white lotus blossoms set at the opposite end of the garden, said arch having a background of vibrant flora from both the decorative flowers and the already present foliage that the Academy students were growing on their own in conjunction with the gardeners hired on before they opened their doors to students. In front of the arch were white padded chairs in rows of ten horizontally and vertically, allowing for seating of around one hundred people. Originally their ceremony was intended to be small in nature, but the list of invitees grew as they planned, the duo deciding finally on capping the number at one hundred. He vividly recalled exclaiming that they probably hadn’t befriended a hundred people between the two of them, yet it seemed like ever since they announced their engagement, more and more individuals crawled out of the figurative woodwork to offer their congratulations and not so subtly hint at their desire to attend. Not only was the growing number of people an issue, but also deciding on who would be in his grooms party. He eventually decided on Abbeth and Manso, seeing as those are the two men he interacted with the most and actually kept in touch with(other than Bex of course). His original selection for best man was his father, but after telling him his plan, Vol shook his head and proclaimed that it would be good enough for him to sit in the audience and watch this “momentous occasion happen right before my eyes”.
It had been great to have the kind of support his parents and…well, everyone else close to them offered. Neta, after cackling gleefully on their holocall the day after the proposal, swore that she would get the best caterers in the galaxy, no questions asked. The Elders offered the meditation garden as an optimal place for the ceremony, going so far as to cancel all classes that day and encourage the students to witness a public endorsement of marriage as a healthy part of the Qyaari philosophy(done right of course). As presiding tie-breaker, Voldon was given the right to officiate the ceremony and aided in the logistical planning along with those in the newly minted Alliance Information Service(a play on the old SIS acronym) base just down the way from the Academy. Many of the students volunteered to help set things up, mail invitations and aid wherever they could, which was gigantic help. This was extremely comforting to the couple, who had spent the three months attempting to cram in a year’s worth of wedding planning into a short span of time. They managed to carve out time for themselves when they could, but SO much of their days were spent planning that they could only look at each other with exhausted eyes before crawling into each other’s arms at night and falling asleep.
During the course of this planning, it became evidence that there were a number of people that were more concerned about attending for the sake of “being important” rather than any sentimental attachment to the couple. Yerbol had received a message from a supposed second cousin and his family begging for an invite along with a few other “uncles” and “cousins removed”. Where was all this coming from? Was it because of their renown status? Was it the notion that people could “rub shoulders” with “important” figures? Was their wedding indicative of the “freeloaders” that would continually hound them as long as they stayed in the public spotlight?
This line of questioning was cut short(thankfully!) by a massive hand clapping him on the back, nearly knocking the wind out of his chest.
“Big day is finally here, huh?” Bex stood next to him, three piece suit and all.
“No one ever tells you that the best part of the day is knowing you’ll never have to plan another one of these.” A shared chuckle as Yerbol looked past the entrance to the meditation garden up towards the stone steps to the back entrance.
“How are things inside?”
“Just walking through made me antsy. Catering people are fussing at anyone that goes near the dining hall, the students are all buzzing around asking anyone around if ‘the wedding started yet’ and the guests are all chumming it up in the atrium.”
“Anyone seen Ari?”
“Nope…well, scratch that, I saw her this morning running past me with Neta in the command center for reasons I do not know nor was I interested in knowing judging on the way they were shooting laser beams out of their eyes.”
“Stressful times.”
“Man, it’s a WEDDING. Should be a joyful occasion, not a time for people to get jazzed up.”
“Fair point.” He shifted in his jacket uncomfortably, loosening his tie as the sun bore it’s full strength on the garden.
“Joyful, man.” Bex patted his arm, noting the strained look on his friend’s face.
“I know. Believe me, if it wasn’t for the planning and…well, everything AROUND the ceremony, I’d be much more enthusiastic.”
“You’d better be more than enthusiastic when she shows up.” A genuine smile crossed the young Champion’s face.
“Oh I will be.”
______
The guests had filtered in, Yerbol chatting with a few guests here and there, but staying at the arch for the most part in position for when the ceremony actually began. It was strange to see the intermingling of people: his mother laughing with a few of the younger students, Janika and Neta making hand motions towards some of the foliage, Elara and Matt conversing in a corner with mutually stern expressions among the highlights that he was able to process while in the most nervous condition of his life.
“Stop worrying.” Voldon chided, the Battlemaster’s tone more playful than normal, which may have coincided with his clothing. Instead of his normal beige robe and armored leggings, he was wearing an aqua colored tunic with dark pants, making him seem more…well, approachable.
“I’m not worried.”
“Don’t argue with your Elders.” A momentary pause.
“It’s just…” He cast a wary eye at the officiating Elder as he elaborated:
“I don’t want to screw this up. She’s so great and I…I can’t imagine living without her. What if I do something to drive her away?” This elicited a guffaw from the Elder, one so powerful that some of the guests who were beginning to find their seats looked up in alarm.
“Yerbol, something I’ve learned is that when a woman loves you, TRULY loves you, she will love you unconditionally. There were times that I made some terrible decisions, ones that I regret because they caused Kira harm. But she would tell you the same thing in regard to some of her decisions. We’re human. Fallible. We WILL make mistakes, but the beauty of marriage is that even through all the stupid mistakes, our love for each other will never be extinguished.” Yerbol sighed in regret.
“I wish that you were my Master when I was training.”
“No you don’t. Ask Kira about what it’s like.”
“Kira was your Padawan?” A grin.
“A story for another time.” Music gently floated in from speakers cleverly hidden in the hedge walls, guests taking the cue and seating themselves. After a few minutes of getting sorted out, the entrance music for the groom and bridal party began, Yerbol silently hoping that “the bestest man ever” Bex had gotten Manso and Abbeth sorted out in their roles as groomsmen. Otherwise, the processional would be off to a rocky start.
Sounds good! I'll get it up ASAP.
So I started writing and I realized something...
Where is the ceremony going to be?
Onderon? Zinuthra? Another planet I'm not thinking of? Let me know what you think and then I can continue writing xD
Where is the ceremony going to be?
Onderon? Zinuthra? Another planet I'm not thinking of? Let me know what you think and then I can continue writing xD
Gotcha. This gang was going to be a separate entity, so feel free to take it in a totally new direction if you wish.
Also, things got hectic on my end, so I won't be available until Wednesday. Sorry for the short notice, but life doesn't seem to wait for nay of us, eh? xD
Also, things got hectic on my end, so I won't be available until Wednesday. Sorry for the short notice, but life doesn't seem to wait for nay of us, eh? xD
Aaaaaaand more stuff came up for me as well. Also have an all day event tomorrow, so probably won't get you a reply until Wednesday :/
Sorry for that, but I'll make up for it with so many goofy Yerbol moments you won't know what to do with xD
Sorry for that, but I'll make up for it with so many goofy Yerbol moments you won't know what to do with xD
Busy day, but will post later in the afternoon my time :)
Heh, well, was trying to surprise, but I'll spill:
I wanted to do something with the Salamandra from Witcher 1, seeing as I kinda felt like they were underdeveloped in the game. This band of rogues is attempting to disrupt Vizima from within before Nilfgaard attacks. Defeat them from the inside kind of thing.
I wanted to do something with the Salamandra from Witcher 1, seeing as I kinda felt like they were underdeveloped in the game. This band of rogues is attempting to disrupt Vizima from within before Nilfgaard attacks. Defeat them from the inside kind of thing.
"I'm not looking for a miracle. I just need a Witcher's eye to go over something that I know we're missing...and that's hard for me to admit." Roche nodded to the two commandos who were unloading the cart before motioning for Eve to follow him back around the corner they had rounded earlier, chuckling a bit at Eve's curiosity.
"I don't think you've ever gone a conversation without asking at least three questions in a row." They walked up a ramp that led back to the main road, the Commando walking straight ahead to a massive wooden gate that wheeled open upon presenting his credentials. He stayed silent on the subject brought up by Eve until they were past the gate and onto a dirt path that was flanked on the left by a crystalline lake connected to the Pontar. Crates and other assorted paraphernalia related to shipping were strewn on the shore below, but Roche seemed more occupied with the shack sitting on wooden struts accessible by a plank bridge.
"They're old enemies of Vizima. Don't know if they're Nilfgaard, Redanian or anything else for that matter. All I know is that the normal gang issues that have infested the city have been replaced with more organized hits on shipping caravans, supply routes and an even more brazen attack on the outskirts of the palace(which was, thankfully, at night when the public couldn't be whipped into a frenzy). They seem to want to disrupt Vizima, but for what reasons? Still unclear. And that bothers me to no end." They walked into the shack to find a blue stripes commando seated in a chair next to a mangled mess of a corpse.
"That'll be all, Nek."
"Thanks be to Melitle." The guard mumbled as he slipped out, Roche motioning to the half severed arm, neck gashed open and other wounds.
"Tell me what you think. What killed him?"
"I don't think you've ever gone a conversation without asking at least three questions in a row." They walked up a ramp that led back to the main road, the Commando walking straight ahead to a massive wooden gate that wheeled open upon presenting his credentials. He stayed silent on the subject brought up by Eve until they were past the gate and onto a dirt path that was flanked on the left by a crystalline lake connected to the Pontar. Crates and other assorted paraphernalia related to shipping were strewn on the shore below, but Roche seemed more occupied with the shack sitting on wooden struts accessible by a plank bridge.
"They're old enemies of Vizima. Don't know if they're Nilfgaard, Redanian or anything else for that matter. All I know is that the normal gang issues that have infested the city have been replaced with more organized hits on shipping caravans, supply routes and an even more brazen attack on the outskirts of the palace(which was, thankfully, at night when the public couldn't be whipped into a frenzy). They seem to want to disrupt Vizima, but for what reasons? Still unclear. And that bothers me to no end." They walked into the shack to find a blue stripes commando seated in a chair next to a mangled mess of a corpse.
"That'll be all, Nek."
"Thanks be to Melitle." The guard mumbled as he slipped out, Roche motioning to the half severed arm, neck gashed open and other wounds.
"Tell me what you think. What killed him?"
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