Seravee

Frontier Justice (Wild West RP) [Closed Down]

A typical trip into town. A typical stop in the general store, and a typical journey home. There would be no drama, no violence, and she could be home before sundown. That was what Kizzy Cottman had assured herself would take place, and she sincerely hoped would take place. But nothing had been typical since Landon had been shot, and on occasion, she wondered if anything ever would. That afternoon, it seemed, was no exception.

"Miss Cottman!" the shopkeep had greeted with a nod and a grin. He might have waved as well, had his hands not been otherwise occupied. In short, practiced motions, the man shuffled paper from one pile to another, mentally noting totals even as he continued to speak. "Allers a pleasure to see you, ma'am."

His enthusiasm, though endearing, was not returned. "Afternoon," Kizzy answered simply, fingertips politely kissing the brim of her hat before she tugged it off. Even in a mere shop, she had been raised better than to parade about with her head covered.

"What brings you in today?" he continued cheerfully.

"Just need some sugar."

"Doing some baking?"

Kizzy paused, her hand hovering over a small bag as she mused over his words. What, pray tell, would be another use for sugar? But the woman bit back the retort. He was a good man, and she would be wrong to take out her anger on him. It just is not a good time.

There was no time for her comment, even if she had chosen to say it. A man who had previously lurked in the back suddenly raced by, a cloth bag laden with goods over his shoulder. His motions were unusual, she noted with some urgency, as she nearly toppled as he shoved past her. What excuse did he have for such behavior? Her first thought was a robbery, and the shopkeep's subsequent shouts confirmed her suspicions.

Her own shopping list was forgotten as she lunged after the man. Her boots thudded dully across the wood floor, and then the creaking porch, and finally the hard-packed, dusty street. But it was not until the blonde burst into the center of town that she realized the gravity of the situation. Men and women ran all about, their paths criss-crossing and apparently random, a sure sign of panic. Shouts carried from numerous buildings, accompanied by the familiar thunder of guns being fired. Immediately, her hand dropped to her own pistol.

So much for a typical day. But in Soursprings, what did she expect?

Rescue for the ages(Seravee/Freedomliveson)

That's fantastic! I am so sorry for the delay - I have a middle school teaching job, and we broke for summer last week. It was much more hectic than I had anticipated. I'll get you a post soon!

Frontier Justice (Wild West RP) [Closed Down]

Expect a post in the next day or two. I apologize for the holdup.

Frontier Justice (Wild West RP) [Closed Down]

Sorry, last week of school is proving more hectic than expected. I'm happy to jump in wherever you are.

Rescue for the ages(Seravee/Freedomliveson)

How exciting! Moving on to bigger and better things? :)

Rescue for the ages(Seravee/Freedomliveson)

Looks great! I don't mind that they left.

I had Leoria stop just outside the ship. They can continue their conversation there, or take it back to the ship. Up to you!

Rescue for the ages(Seravee/Freedomliveson)

The snow, as unexpected as it had been, seemed to be just what the pair had needed. Her own anxiety had cooled, giving way to mere worry, which sat heavy in the pit of her stomach. Yerbol had also calmed, his demeanor returning to the cool, collected normal that she had come to depend on. His hand was a firm, steady weight on her arm, and she returned a soft nod of thanks.

As the boy spoke of escape, Leoria shrugged her way out of her robes. Carefully, nearly painstakingly so, she wrapped the shimmering orange cube in the cloth. Briefly, she thought that it had seemed to lose a bit of its brilliance; even against the darkness, the bright light was not so stark. She chalked it up to Yerbol's force illumination, though that was mostly because she did not wish to dwell any longer than necessary. The experience had been so incredibly wrong, and the more she thought about it, the tighter the knot in her stomach grew. It had been like a nightmare, watching her friend's sanity slip away. And what had the snow been about? Was this the mysterious power of the artifact? Not taking any chances, the woman mused. Little did she know, the damage had already been done.

She was unable to do anything, and could only watch helplessly as her companion continued to mutter to himself. His mannerisms were more familiar, and she had almost been convinced that he was entirely back to being himself. But the words that he shot into the emptiness of the cavern still sent goosebumps racing up and down her now bare arms.

It was his voice that startled her from the thought. The snow was gone, she noted, but that was not at the forefront of her mind; somehow, it had not been the strangest event of the day. Through a tight-lipped frown, she confessed the concern that plagued her. "Yes, we should go," she agreed, "but I'm not sure that I'm okay. Not really." The pair walked in silence as they retraced their steps, Leoria trying to find the words, and Yerbol giving her the time and space to do so. The door that had trapped them had opened once more, perhaps triggered by the removal of the artifact she clutched to her chest. And she choked back a bout of nausea as she passed the scattered, lifeless bodies of the troops. It was not until the approached the ship, now doused in milky moonlight, that she spoke again.

"I don't feel right. About this whole thing. About what you did. About what I did. Or, what I think I did." The blonde drug her lower lip between her teeth before adding, "I was so focused on the heat. I was so hot, and all I wanted was the cold. I thought of it, and how badly I wished I could cool down. And then... there it was." Her voice trailed, and she recognized how pathetic it sounded. "I know it doesn't make sense. But, nothing does. Not right now."

Frontier Justice (Wild West RP) [Closed Down]

@Corporal Hicks I find that the more I stress about a roleplay, the worse I write, and the less pleasant the experience is. I normally end up tuckering out. Try not to let it bother you! Enjoy the ride. Get to know the people you're writing with. Have fun. That's the important part. Remember, the GM would not have accepted you if he didn't think you were a good fit. :)

Rescue for the ages(Seravee/Freedomliveson)

Alright, there we go! The illusion I went with was snow, and cold. It was the first thing she could think of as she freaked out. She can see it as a flicker, but it should look fairly real to him. Basically like it just appeared around him, since he is sitting in it! :)

Rescue for the ages(Seravee/Freedomliveson)

The words tumbled from his trembling lips like the babbling of an old, crazed man. He spoke of Heralds, the true Sith. Then he spoke of the Empire, a wasted space, and a galaxy waiting to be reclaimed. With this, his tone changed, growing more robotic in nature. Like he's reading, the blonde thought, her gaze never wavering from the blank scroll. Her small frame shuddered.

This time, it was her turn to comfort her friend. With a single, fluid motion, she returned her lightsaber to its rightful place on her hip. Now lit only by the red-yellow light of the cube, the Knight let the scroll tumble to the dirty floor. It rolled a few feet before settling against the base of the shelf she had drawn it from. Both hands, small, but firm, grasped Yerbol's arms. Instinctively, her thumbs stroked the cloth of his robe, a small and ineffective, but genuine gesture intended to calm him. She leveled her hard, cold gaze on him. "Listen to me, Yerbol," Leoria began, her tone steady, supported by all of the calm she could muster. "You need to relax. You need to calm down, do you understand? I don't know what is happening to you." Or if anything is happening to you. Maybe you've just gone crazy. That paper was blank, was it not? "I am going to help you." Will I help you the way I helped those troops? This thought caught her breath in her throat, and she could only give a choked gasp as her companion pulled away. She was left, arms outstretched, as he slumped to the floor. The cube he had held fell to the ground, and without thinking, she scooped it up. Now clutching the only light source, she focused on the boy. Something was wrong.

"Yerbol," she cried, and then more urgently when his hands began to crackle with energy. "Yerbol!" Lightning. His fingertips danced with the same electricity that she had seen before. The same electricity that the troops had used. And she had killed them. I'm going to have to kill him too.

"No," she growled softly. Her better judgement warred with her immediate sense of panic, and her hands shook as they held the artifact. "No, I won't. I can't. I won't." It was hot, so hot. A fine layer of sweat dusted her brow, shimmering like diamonds in the dim light. Why was it so hot? "Yerbol," she said once more, voice now only a weak groan. "Please, stop. Please. Its hot."

And then it wasn't. It began with a cold breeze, drifting from no place in particular. It was impossible, of course, as Leoria had just checked for openings. But there it was. Her damp skin grew cold beneath the impossible breeze, and as her jaw dropped in surprise, she watched her own impossible breath condense, and carry away like smoke. In the darkness, something had appeared. Something impossible. It flickered oddly, seeming to blink in and out of existence, but she could not deny what she saw. A layer of snow.