@AHeartlessNobody Will do.
Renny
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STATUS: "An apology is a promise to do things differently next time, and to keep the promise." - Ging Freecss 4 yrs ago
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"An apology is a promise to do things differently next time, and to keep the promise." - Ging Freecss
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“If you want to find the secrets of the universe, think in terms of energy, frequency and vibration.” ― Nikola Tesla
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“I think and think for months and years. Ninety-nine times, the conclusion is false. The hundredth time I am right.” – Albert Einstein
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“Yesterday I was clever, so I wanted to change the world. Today I am wise, so I am changing myself.” ― Rumi
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“Stand in the ashes of a trillion dead souls, and asks the ghosts if honor matters. The silence is your answer.” ― Javik
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Maema Nisshoku
Remaining composed… Where’s the Boom!
Maema, believe it or not, had an itching feeling that Akumako wouldn’t take kindly to Roga’s belittlement; like the pre-teen she acted like, she wouldn’t enjoy being looked down upon. When the table was launched up a bang of heat, dark smoke, and embers spluttered to the dull floor around them. He hid a wicked smirk in the blur of motion. The little girl had a certain flare that spoke to him. To be frank, though it was but a inkling of intuition, he believed he had felt a certain like towards the group already.
Maema stifled a smile as he held his arm over his head to block the messy downpour. Akumako went on about her own capabilities and Roga started on about how he could spearhead the operation. Maema, who now stood with his hand tucked in his splatter trousers, rubbed the back of his hair with uncertainty. While he had already developed a rather unpleasant idea of Akumako’s leadership skills, their was a kind of reassurance when she got serious. A feeling that he could depend on her strength.
While Roga had declared his own background, his clan being the perpetual underdog it was, Maema had remained--visually bored. Sitting in a empty seat facing the once-upon-a-table; Maema suddenly spoke up. “No hard feelings, Roga, but I'd like to have all my eggs in a basket before making a decision. Quite frankly I think the Commander has put Little Bull in charge for a reason, if none other than to supervise us. She seems to be able to retain knowledge, I think we should give her a chance to speak on her own prowess.”
Maema stifled a smile as he held his arm over his head to block the messy downpour. Akumako went on about her own capabilities and Roga started on about how he could spearhead the operation. Maema, who now stood with his hand tucked in his splatter trousers, rubbed the back of his hair with uncertainty. While he had already developed a rather unpleasant idea of Akumako’s leadership skills, their was a kind of reassurance when she got serious. A feeling that he could depend on her strength.
While Roga had declared his own background, his clan being the perpetual underdog it was, Maema had remained--visually bored. Sitting in a empty seat facing the once-upon-a-table; Maema suddenly spoke up. “No hard feelings, Roga, but I'd like to have all my eggs in a basket before making a decision. Quite frankly I think the Commander has put Little Bull in charge for a reason, if none other than to supervise us. She seems to be able to retain knowledge, I think we should give her a chance to speak on her own prowess.”
@AHeartlessNobody I hate to say this but I think I'm going to drop from this. I thought that I was prepare to hop back into the saddle but I've grown busy IRL and in other threads. I'm going to have to back out, Heartless.
@AHeartlessNobody That post was really concise. I liked it. I work tonight so I'll probably be hitting the sac early. I'll post in the morning when I come back.
Ben Solo
18 | Padawan | DagobahThe stuttered final breaths that left the storm tropper was a sickening sound. It was without much speculation his death. Ben held a cold, dead-pan stare with the man’s lolling head. The mark of his lightsaber against the man’s armor had been molten red, a dull glow in the gray-tinted room.
His force senses were strained through the temple, keeping watch of his back and near-by surroundings with all-consuming vigilance.
He sighed as his mother’s would-be disappointment scoured him. He knew Leia wouldn’t be proud of him for selfishly killing another, one who had opted to run instead of fighting. Han might’ve felt different but due to bitter circumstances, he didn't particularly care.
As he felt his way through the temple, the hue of his lightsaber flooded the degraded halls. Moss and vines seemed to shy and slither up the walls. Small mammals, shadow-cloaked avians, and fierce looking insects scurried away at the harsh, sudden glare. He touched the moist bricks as he delved deeper, feeling a strong pull towards a darker, ague corner of the temple.
He felt his stomach churn as he stared at the door carved in the temple. Ben narrowed his eyes and tentatively reached out with the force out of caution. The moment he did, the Force reached back out with the warning of a vicious and surreal vision.
Ben snatched his arm back out of terror and complied a shield around his person.
Those visions had plagued him enough; he didn’t need nor want any more. Inching backwards was just the beginning of his retreat, fear of the dark-clad warrior intruding upon his reality had sent him sprinting away from the pull. He tripped over himself once before catching his footing and dashing up the stairs.
No! I refuse it! I won’t go through this again. I can’t! Underneath the turmoil he tried to compose himself under the realization that other storm troopers were scouting nearby.
He was stumbling towards cover when he felt pressure on his mental shield; on the Force inside of him that he had piled up to block out the Unifying aspect, specifically the part that allowed visions. Ben was mercilessly in his pursuit of peace. His arm snapped backwards at Odd as he started to release a furious, hot-white force push. But the moment he noticed her scuffled appearance and hastily cut hair, he instantly came back to normal. “Odd,” he mouthed concerned, looking at her from behind a decrepit corner.
The moment he heard the casual, careless talk of the passing soldiers; Ben pressed himself against the wall. His expression sunk with guilt in hopes that she hadn’t noticed the intent in his earlier gesture. Once she had made it to him, Ben had looked her over with worried eyes. His examination ended with him smudging away dirt on her cheek as she mentioned not being stronger. He cringed inwardly at her doubtful outlook.
His eyes softened with affection, the rest of his face remained taunt. “I’m just… really happy you’re not hurt, Odd. Forget about your hair. This look,” he stressed, running his hands through the strands of her now short hair. “This beautiful, alive look is the only thing I could ever ask for.”
The emotion that rushed from his core and out his mouth had been delayed on his mind. When it finally reached him just how much goo and cheese he had spouted, his cheeks reddened. To keep himself from being too embarrassed, he hugged her tightly to conceal his blush.
He glanced from side to side awkwardly for a distraction. “Uh… Di-Did you know they’re called Storm Troopers? Kinda like Jedi, they’re taken at a young age and trained for war. All they’re doing is the only thing they’ve ever known. Following orders.” The next moment was meant for thought on Odette's part. He wouldn’t give her enough time to voice them however. “But enough of faceless enemies, if you’ve got the map than its time to get out of here. I don’t want to linger and risk losing you.”
His force senses were strained through the temple, keeping watch of his back and near-by surroundings with all-consuming vigilance.
He sighed as his mother’s would-be disappointment scoured him. He knew Leia wouldn’t be proud of him for selfishly killing another, one who had opted to run instead of fighting. Han might’ve felt different but due to bitter circumstances, he didn't particularly care.
As he felt his way through the temple, the hue of his lightsaber flooded the degraded halls. Moss and vines seemed to shy and slither up the walls. Small mammals, shadow-cloaked avians, and fierce looking insects scurried away at the harsh, sudden glare. He touched the moist bricks as he delved deeper, feeling a strong pull towards a darker, ague corner of the temple.
He felt his stomach churn as he stared at the door carved in the temple. Ben narrowed his eyes and tentatively reached out with the force out of caution. The moment he did, the Force reached back out with the warning of a vicious and surreal vision.
Ben snatched his arm back out of terror and complied a shield around his person.
Those visions had plagued him enough; he didn’t need nor want any more. Inching backwards was just the beginning of his retreat, fear of the dark-clad warrior intruding upon his reality had sent him sprinting away from the pull. He tripped over himself once before catching his footing and dashing up the stairs.
No! I refuse it! I won’t go through this again. I can’t! Underneath the turmoil he tried to compose himself under the realization that other storm troopers were scouting nearby.
He was stumbling towards cover when he felt pressure on his mental shield; on the Force inside of him that he had piled up to block out the Unifying aspect, specifically the part that allowed visions. Ben was mercilessly in his pursuit of peace. His arm snapped backwards at Odd as he started to release a furious, hot-white force push. But the moment he noticed her scuffled appearance and hastily cut hair, he instantly came back to normal. “Odd,” he mouthed concerned, looking at her from behind a decrepit corner.
The moment he heard the casual, careless talk of the passing soldiers; Ben pressed himself against the wall. His expression sunk with guilt in hopes that she hadn’t noticed the intent in his earlier gesture. Once she had made it to him, Ben had looked her over with worried eyes. His examination ended with him smudging away dirt on her cheek as she mentioned not being stronger. He cringed inwardly at her doubtful outlook.
His eyes softened with affection, the rest of his face remained taunt. “I’m just… really happy you’re not hurt, Odd. Forget about your hair. This look,” he stressed, running his hands through the strands of her now short hair. “This beautiful, alive look is the only thing I could ever ask for.”
The emotion that rushed from his core and out his mouth had been delayed on his mind. When it finally reached him just how much goo and cheese he had spouted, his cheeks reddened. To keep himself from being too embarrassed, he hugged her tightly to conceal his blush.
He glanced from side to side awkwardly for a distraction. “Uh… Di-Did you know they’re called Storm Troopers? Kinda like Jedi, they’re taken at a young age and trained for war. All they’re doing is the only thing they’ve ever known. Following orders.” The next moment was meant for thought on Odette's part. He wouldn’t give her enough time to voice them however. “But enough of faceless enemies, if you’ve got the map than its time to get out of here. I don’t want to linger and risk losing you.”
@AHeartlessNobody Of course its okay. Technically its your story and I'm just a supporting, male, love-interest. I haven't read the post yet but I'm going to kick one out soon adn get this RP back on the road.
@AHeartlessNobody I'm down, I was just thinking of Star Wars
@BCTheEntity I'm fine with the NPC.
Maema Nisshoku
Exploring Chimney & The little Bull
Maema closed his eyes at the young girl’s misguided emphasization of his name. He hadn’t expected to be dealing with a superior whose own attention was the equal of a eight year old. And if that wasn’t bad enough he couldn't help but feel their first mission was suicide. It felt kinda forced and, though the commander had made it seem opportune, daunting.
Outwardly Maema exerted a calm before slowly turning the gold of his father’s dog-tag. He must’ve known something so dangerous would happen and if that was the case… then he knew that he was prepared both mentally and physically. The old swordsman wouldn’t had tossed him to his death.
Atleast that was what his mind was reminding him. He sparsely recognized that it was possibly some reassurance for his own fears that voiced those thoughts. Maema faintly shook his head of the discovery before sighing his surrender. Considering the situation I’m in I’m not the least bit surprised.
The minutes that he had believed would be filled with inquiries and worries were interrupted by--who he had decided to nickname--The little Bull. She chimed in with a odd mix of innocence and resolve. Admittedly, Maema was caught off guard. He didn’t think The little Bull could summon that much determination. In the moment she spoke of her shrine he saw his reflection in her face.
The little Bull pressed that “Chimney” and himself would first go to her room. And just like that, Maema had saw The little Bull as the annoying superior that he had first met minutes ago. He stood up in his seat quietly and bowed to the group casually. He waved bye to the few at the table before saying, “Take it easy guys.” He spoke with a natural drab tone, all while rubbing the back of his head.
He followed The little Bull with a less than stellar enthusiasm. The Commander’s sister was a busy body. Not that there was anything wrong with that. Honestly, the fact that she seemed so inexperienced wasn’t what bothered him; it was more so how she acted. Maema felt that the Commander wouldn’t have given the girl authority if she hadn’t the traits to back it up.
The next fifteen or so minutes were near unbearable. They grabbed their “Akumako specials’” and headed to a table where they sat and begun to discuss some form of a plan. It wasn’t really a plan but rather some obscure reference to what he thought was a manga. Growing up in Kumo, with his distant father, and grief-stricken history had forced him to forsake those childhood pleasantries.
Maema smirked to himself and quietly, shook his head at her enthusiasm.
When Roga asked for him to elaborate on his kekkei-tota, Maema seemed to glance up towards some void. “I can. It’s not a big deal really, I can just create and control mercury. It can be very poisonous, Little Bull, Roga.” He moved his eyes towards Akumako. “I would take that into consideration when making a plan if I were you guys. Honestly though, I could probably take out that statue on my own.”
“I would die by overwhelming numbers but I could take it out on my own.” He rambled, looking blase and disinterested all together. He pondered momentarily on actually eating the Akumako Special.
Outwardly Maema exerted a calm before slowly turning the gold of his father’s dog-tag. He must’ve known something so dangerous would happen and if that was the case… then he knew that he was prepared both mentally and physically. The old swordsman wouldn’t had tossed him to his death.
Atleast that was what his mind was reminding him. He sparsely recognized that it was possibly some reassurance for his own fears that voiced those thoughts. Maema faintly shook his head of the discovery before sighing his surrender. Considering the situation I’m in I’m not the least bit surprised.
The minutes that he had believed would be filled with inquiries and worries were interrupted by--who he had decided to nickname--The little Bull. She chimed in with a odd mix of innocence and resolve. Admittedly, Maema was caught off guard. He didn’t think The little Bull could summon that much determination. In the moment she spoke of her shrine he saw his reflection in her face.
The little Bull pressed that “Chimney” and himself would first go to her room. And just like that, Maema had saw The little Bull as the annoying superior that he had first met minutes ago. He stood up in his seat quietly and bowed to the group casually. He waved bye to the few at the table before saying, “Take it easy guys.” He spoke with a natural drab tone, all while rubbing the back of his head.
He followed The little Bull with a less than stellar enthusiasm. The Commander’s sister was a busy body. Not that there was anything wrong with that. Honestly, the fact that she seemed so inexperienced wasn’t what bothered him; it was more so how she acted. Maema felt that the Commander wouldn’t have given the girl authority if she hadn’t the traits to back it up.
The next fifteen or so minutes were near unbearable. They grabbed their “Akumako specials’” and headed to a table where they sat and begun to discuss some form of a plan. It wasn’t really a plan but rather some obscure reference to what he thought was a manga. Growing up in Kumo, with his distant father, and grief-stricken history had forced him to forsake those childhood pleasantries.
Maema smirked to himself and quietly, shook his head at her enthusiasm.
When Roga asked for him to elaborate on his kekkei-tota, Maema seemed to glance up towards some void. “I can. It’s not a big deal really, I can just create and control mercury. It can be very poisonous, Little Bull, Roga.” He moved his eyes towards Akumako. “I would take that into consideration when making a plan if I were you guys. Honestly though, I could probably take out that statue on my own.”
“I would die by overwhelming numbers but I could take it out on my own.” He rambled, looking blase and disinterested all together. He pondered momentarily on actually eating the Akumako Special.
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