Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Gibel

̸̵͞͝͡ ̶͘͟͠҉ ̴̧̕͟ ̸̧̀͢͡ ̷̵̨͢͠ ̵́̀͟͞ ̷̨͘͡ ̷̶͟ ̢ ̧̕͞ ͏̶̴̧̧ ̵̷͟ ̴͘ ̴̡ ҉͡͡ ͜ ̕͞ ̨͟ ̴̶̧̧ ̸̀̀͘͜ ̵̸̡́ ͏̀ ͡҉̷̀ ̢̧̡̛ ̶̸̨͡ ̡̡͢ ̨̨̛͟҉ ̸̴̛ ̶̵̸̕͞ ̶̡̛̀̕ ̡̀ ҉͟ ̢͡ ̨́͜͝҉ ̶̸͢͜͜ ́͘ ̛ ̕͟ ̶͏҉̕͡ ͘͠ ̛̀͡ ̵̡͟͢͞ ̶ ̴͞ ́́͞ ̨̨͝ ̴̡́͢ ̶ ̢̧̨̀ ͘͡ ̴͜͠ ̸̨̛͟ ̀͠ ̶͟͢ ͡͝ ́͏҉͘ ̵̵͏̨ ̷̴̢͞ ̧̧̛́͟ ̡̕ ҉̨͟͠ ͜͏͢͏ ̢̢̛̀
Ḽ͓̦u̦̯s̝͔͙̝ṱ͖͇̠ͅ ̟̯͜F̺̩͔̖͟o̩r̝̜̩͙ ̠͉Ĺí̯̘f̷̭͚̰͇͚e͍͡ | In̵teracting w͢͢͠i҉t́̕͏h [member="Kole Harper"] ~ High Hopes ~ "Broken bottle̶s in̛ ̵t̷h͡e ͏hot̛el̵ ͢l̷o͡b͟by, s̢eem̢s̷ t̀o͏ m̴e̡ ̴l͞ike̛ I̢'͡m҉ ̶j̨ust scared of never feelin̷g͠ ͞i͞t͡ again."
————͏̷̡͠—͘͞҉̷—————̷̏̿̐͊—ͫ͗ͩ̐——————̻͙̝̝̤́̕—̰̪̬͓̠̬̼͎—̡̹͚̪͜ͅ—̴̝̖͔͕̫̣—̵͓ͅ—

Her smile was always soft unless she was planning something.

It didn't seem soft now.

̜̲̻"̧̪̣̫̥̱Ǹ̰o͏̱̬̠̙,̼̘̥ ̪͙͇c̤̣ͅom͖̪̟̜̘ḙ̲̤͍̕ͅ ͏̹̰̩ͅo͚n̫̩̝̜,͔͙̺̤ͅ"̸͚̖͈̻̭̙ A protest, "͙̬͎͓̪̙̀W̧̩e'̳͢v̝̰͇̰̬̤̲͠e͓̭ ͕͕͎̠͈̝̦g̶̦̺̜̘͖ǫ͔t̴ ̡̣̖̞̲̘w̟̞͎̠͚͈̰o̦r̵͙̺͎̘k͈͔̟̙͖ i͇͎͙͘n ̙t̺̟̩ͅh̶͕̼e̮ ̻͍̻̱͙m̹or̗͕̥ṉ͚̱̻̩ͅi̻͖̦͔͎̭̪ń̖̗͓̱̲ͅg͉̟̙̮̣͓̥,̘̹̘̙̣͓͕ ͉̬͙̭̱͈͝di̞̭̣͓͢d̛̜̩̗͖̩̳ͅn̖̜̥̭̱̹͟'t yo͖̟u̡͕͙̦ͅ ͔̭̥̺̠s̭a̶̫̲y̼̤͉̠͚?̹̩͇̪͓̺̕"͇̜
 

Rakaan Horne

Guest
Orto Plutonia, Some Capital City, The Place, Evening
Fixing | Interacting with [member="Lynnori Cruz"] ~ Wanna Fight
——————————————————————


No. I don't think there'll be any work tomorrow.

Kole only trudged along. He had endured the initial pain, and that regenerative nonsense that a Combat Model HRD could possess had seemed to begin it's work. That area had become numb, but only free of the pain. His hand, caked in his own blood, had become lowered- resting down by his own side; it was kept firm in it's positioning, unwilling to sway as the stiffness of his gun-wielding hand remained. There was a trail behind him, and it was red- but only in droplets. Except for the rather small pool of it back by that counter top. How much artificial blood did he really have? Enough to make it convincing, but maybe more than he needed in a desperate effort to ensure the legitimacy of this deception.

He turned a corner beneath that over-sized sight-seeing tower- it was only a Casino, or so Kole assumed. Maybe there was more, maybe there wasn't. He was only ever interested in those that were inside. It was with gritted teeth that the Droid found itself in such close proximity to another obstacle, another person that needed to die. His weapon hadn't been fired, instead swiped across the side of it's face, and boy did it leave a nasty wound that caused this individual to do more than flinch. It fell to the ground, and as it did Kole shot it as if it were a dog. His ascension, up those stairs, had then begun. Someone came speeding down them, but they soon tripped and fell in a painful manner after something sliced straight through their flesh.

There wasn't much for him left now. He could reach this person, but then what happened? Where did he go, what did he do? She wasn't coming back, and no matter how much blood he spilt, nothing would change it. Suppose this was the Scorpion's tale after all, no? You hurt, and hurt, and hurt, until you can hurt no longer. And it is in that moment you sting yourself, and you sink, drowning, dead.

He was so full of rage and bottled-up sadness. He'd hate, more than anything, for Lyn to see him like this.
 
̸̵͞͝͡ ̶͘͟͠҉ ̴̧̕͟ ̸̧̀͢͡ ̷̵̨͢͠ ̵́̀͟͞ ̷̨͘͡ ̷̶͟ ̢ ̧̕͞ ͏̶̴̧̧ ̵̷͟ ̴͘ ̴̡ ҉͡͡ ͜ ̕͞ ̨͟ ̴̶̧̧ ̸̀̀͘͜ ̵̸̡́ ͏̀ ͡҉̷̀ ̢̧̡̛ ̶̸̨͡ ̡̡͢ ̨̨̛͟҉ ̸̴̛ ̶̵̸̕͞ ̶̡̛̀̕ ̡̀ ҉͟ ̢͡ ̨́͜͝҉ ̶̸͢͜͜ ́͘ ̛ ̕͟ ̶͏҉̕͡ ͘͠ ̛̀͡ ̵̡͟͢͞ ̶ ̴͞ ́́͞ ̨̨͝ ̴̡́͢ ̶ ̢̧̨̀ ͘͡ ̴͜͠ ̸̨̛͟ ̀͠ ̶͟͢ ͡͝ ́͏҉͘ ̵̵͏̨ ̷̴̢͞ ̧̧̛́͟ ̡̕ ҉̨͟͠ ͜͏͢͏ ̢̢̛̀
Ḽ͓̦u̦̯s̝͔͙̝ṱ͖͇̠ͅ ̟̯͜F̺̩͔̖͟o̩r̝̜̩͙ ̠͉Ĺí̯̘f̷̭͚̰͇͚e͍͡ | In̵teracting w͢͢͠i҉t́̕͏h [member="Kole Harper"] ~ High͢ ̧H̷opes ~ "I know it's crazy to believe in sill̀y̢ th͏in̸gs, but i͜t's not ̢t̕h͠a̧t̶ e̢asy.̷"͢
————͏̷̡͠—͘͞҉̷———̢̜̝͕̯—̗̖͖̮̀—̷̏̿̐͊—ͫ͗ͩ̐——————̻͙̝̝̤́̕—̰̪̬͓̠̬̼͎—̡̹͚̪͜ͅ—̴̝̖͔͕̫̣—̵͓ͅ—

"Th͈̫̹̤̦̫̠e̠̖͎̫̟̗͡ͅ ̡͙̝ẉ͖̯̖͙̫̜̕o̭̮̭r̟̙̖̤̥̬̰͟k̝ͅ ̻̲͈͈̺̗̲w̫̰̖̼̖͈i̠̺l͍͍̘̤̘̻l ̛̪̗͖͖̻̙e̢̮̠͇̱n̮̗̻͙̥ͅd̢͈̜̝͇̗,̦̙̭̺"̧̞͈̠͎̲̲ Almost a whisper, tender, loving, "B҉̤̰u͙̖t҉̜̦̺̳̙ ̷͚y̕o̱̜̮͇u̲̝̖͕̗͠ ͈̼͖̱̝̠̗w̧̼o̭̲͘n̥͓̞̥͓̘̬'̹̞̘͓͎̖t͕͕̹̜̰̙͚ ̨̖d͏͚̗͖̺̦o ̹̱̺̻̺̀ḁ̣͎͚̖͓͞n̳͚̮̫̘ỳ̞͎̜̺̰̯o͎͉n̙̳͈̯͝e̳͉͓̜ ҉͚͖̞̰̫̫a̞̕ny͉͉̗̼̠͕̳ ̨͓̗͈g̜o̱̕o̴d͚͕̲̘ b̀y ̥́b̼͇̥͉̤̳͕ę̮͈̲ḭ͔̖͟n̥͔̖̭̝g̣͇̬̰͉ ̞̼̬͖̺ṱ̷̠̭̖͍̖i̡͔̲͉r̠̖̮͈͕̪͎e̦͎ḍ͉͕̮ ̝͔a̘l͕͈̹͇̳͍͔͘l̶͓ ̘t̡͉͕̞̠ͅhe̴͍̩̞͖͓̳ͅ ̰̰͘ti̸͈̠m͞e̻̲̮̦͕.̭͉͇̠̩͈̜̕"̼

"͚I'̦͖̙̣̬̕l̶̖̝͈͈͚l͎̟̤ ̫̱͇̮̪ͅb̦͖͈̥́e̱̻̫̻̤͖ h̢͓̳ere̘͚̪͙.͚͡"҉̖̣͙̩̬

"̢A̸l̴w͞a̸ys w̴i͜ll͠.͝"
 

Rakaan Horne

Guest
Orto Plutonia, Some Capital City, The Place, Evening
Fixing | Interacting with [member="Lynnori Cruz"] ~ Wanna Fight
——————————————————————


There came this sudden, sharp, sting that coursed through him; it were as if it were a stab, but it wasn't- it was a bullet wound. He pressed his arm against the doorway, leaning against it as a breathy sigh escaped him. Kole couldn't quite explain it. The reality of it, although, was rather... amusing. This was purely the ability of believing something should kill you to the point that you basically let it. His eyes turned to the console, and he grunted after allowing himself to fall down onto a knee. His hands had rummaged through the electronics, a certain masterful and sloppy precision had been made, ultimately forcing that very door -- armoured and all -- to open with that of a swoosh.

His steps inside were slow, as if he had won, but he felt no victory. Kole hadn't seen anyone within either, but as he stepped through the doorway there happened to be a thunderous charging of feet slamming their way down in his direction. The Droid rapidly pivoted, but all he felt was something piercing his skin once more- this time a blade, albeit a small one, a knife. Kole's hand fired down on the trigger, and the discomfort of being so close had pressed it's barrel downwards. A bullet rippled through their leg, striking the knee cap, and forcing them to the ground. This man, larger than most, had pressed Kole up against the wall, leaning against some items of storage. The Droid, in all it's unnatural existence, had feared death for a brief moment. Kole spat blood from his mouth, clutching the wound on his right side, his gun loosely held within his hand.

That was it, huh? It was only going to take another bullet, one more to finish off the job once and for all. Maybe that might work for some, but not for Kole. He pushed through the deathly pain as slower than before steps had been made, his hand still pointlessly trying to hold that blood within him. That coward ahead of him staggered backwards, crawling their way until being met with a wall; heavy, frantic breaths left that thing as it leant against the wall behind it. Kole thrust out a foot, striking it in the face. He didn't seem to stop, though. He did it again, and again, and again, and again. He found no satisfaction with each pressing kick, even as his boot had well and truly entered their face. There was nothing, Lyn was still dead and he didn't feel any closer to having her forgive him or care for what he had done. Maybe he enjoyed that prospect most. Lyn might shrug those pink shoulders of hers, flick that blue hair over her shoulder, and bat those pretty golden eyes in boredom.

At least, well, Kole could die now. He leaned backwards into the wall, almost slumping down beside the corpse he created with his hand holding this own wound. He couldn't die here, no, he had to die out there; out in the snow, out with her.
 
̸̵͞͝͡ ̶͘͟͠҉ ̴̧̕͟ ̸̧̀͢͡ ̷̵̨͢͠ ̵́̀͟͞ ̷̨͘͡ ̷̶͟ ̢ ̧̕͞ ͏̶̴̧̧ ̵̷͟ ̴͘ ̴̡ ҉͡͡ ͜ ̕͞ ̨͟ ̴̶̧̧ ̸̀̀͘͜ ̵̸̡́ ͏̀ ͡҉̷̀ ̢̧̡̛ ̶̸̨͡ ̡̡͢ ̨̨̛͟҉ ̸̴̛ ̶̵̸̕͞ ̶̡̛̀̕ ̡̀ ҉͟ ̢͡ ̨́͜͝҉ ̶̸͢͜͜ ́͘ ̛ ̕͟ ̶͏҉̕͡ ͘͠ ̛̀͡ ̵̡͟͢͞ ̶ ̴͞ ́́͞ ̨̨͝ ̴̡́͢ ̶ ̢̧̨̀ ͘͡ ̴͜͠ ̸̨̛͟ ̀͠ ̶͟͢ ͡͝ ́͏҉͘ ̵̵͏̨ ̷̴̢͞ ̧̧̛́͟ ̡̕ ҉̨͟͠ ͜͏͢͏ ̢̢̛̀
Ḽ͓̦u̦̯s̝͔͙̝ṱ͖͇̠ͅ ̟̯͜F̺̩͔̖͟o̩r̝̜̩͙ ̠͉Ĺí̯̘f̷̭͚̰͇͚e͍͡ | In̵teracting w͢͢͠i҉t́̕͏h [member="Kole Harper"] ~ High͢ ̧H̷opes ~ "I know it's crazy to believe in sill̀y̢ th͏in̸gs, but i͜t's not ̢t̕h͠a̧t̶ e̢asy.̷"͢
————͏̷̡͠—͘͞҉̷———̢̜̝͕̯—̗̖͖̮̀—̷̏̿̐͊—ͫ͗ͩ̐——————̻͙̝̝̤́̕—̰̪̬͓̠̬̼͎—̡̹͚̪͜ͅ—̴̝̖͔͕̫̣—̵͓ͅ—

The conversation seemed so strange and familiar, stitched from various memories he held onto like a python winding around prey, choking them of air. It'd been the evening when she'd told him that sh--

"͜O̼h̴̞̱͈̪, ̡͈̞j͏u͏͎̖͓̬ͅs҉̺̪t̗͓̪͍̮ ͙̝̗c̵̬̭̪̫̙om͏͍̤͔̬͇e͠ ̞͉͝l̨̯͖̟i̵̼̙̞͔̮e ̫̲̘͠d̜̩o͈͔̞̱̱̥͡wn͏,̴̱͖̭"͍̤̥͔͉ Chiding, temporary, chiding ever always, "̛͔̗̞̠͉͖͍I̛̱̞'̮̫͈̞̞̜̭m͈͉̟̱ ̴͕n̢̞̜͚͉̭̞o͖͙̩̣t̳̥͚̥̱̱̭ ͝s̶̞̯̰̬̠͎ͅo̲ ͓̻̜b̹̙̟̠̺͟a̵̙̦̙ͅd͕͎ ̝͘t̝̺o̜ ̳͍̦̺̱̀b̷̙e̸̟͎͚ ͓̗̱͈̖w͟i͍͠ṯ̷̩̼h̴̦̻͔͔̺͍.̡͚̗͉̙͙̰̠ ͚D̝͝ó̯̥͙̮̝̝̺n̰͚͖̙̘͖'̮͈̠̯̗̟t̛̫̬̖̻̬̬ ̢̭b̼e ̴͓̲͎a̯͖̜͖̱͍ ̖͎̬̦ͅb̗̫̤̜̩͕͎a͙̬̹̙͢b͚̯́y̭̺̱̹̮̳.͔͢"̺̱͖̘
 

Rakaan Horne

Guest
Orto Plutonia, Some Capital City, The Place, Evening
Fixing | Interacting with [member="Lynnori Cruz"] ~ Tears in Rain
——————————————————————


Kole wandered down the stairs, his own blood drowning his hand as he could almost hear the sound of a trickling liquid. He hadn't been sure as to what it really was, for he might of been going insane. He knew that was the case, and so he was perfectly comfortable with dying; but Kole had never been one to truly accept defeat, but maybe Lyn was right. He should just go lie down, rest his eyes, only for a little while. A stained hand slid down the railing with each step to the ground floor Kole took. His boots, flecked with blood of himself and others, had finally done so. His movements were sluggish and slow, but this building was empty. Another set of doors, glass in their appearance, and in a duo as the other entrance had appeared before him. A bloodied hand had pushed against it, forcing it open.

He was met by the cold air, and it took him by force. But Kole really didn't react to it in the same way he would've before. His head had been bowed into himself, finding the warmth of his coat to be the true saviour. He trudged through the snow, descending a smaller flight of stairs in which he inevitably sat. It was uncomfortable, extremely so, but he simply didn't care. A hand was outstretched, catching those snowflakes in his hand as Lyn did moments prior to her death. It replayed in his head over, and over again. It was never going to fade away, and so maybe it was more beneficial that he truly wiped everything from his mind; permanently.

The Droid had raised his hand from his side, holding it before his face and within his lap. There was all that blood, and it didn't seem to stop going. That subtle frown of his was still present, watching, acknowledging, accepting. His hand reached within his coat, grasping at an item he then held out before him: it was that image, of himself and Lynnori. She looked so happy, and for a moment that made him happy. A sad smile creased across his features. His bloodied thumb slid over the part that contained her face, as if he was trying to touch her one last time. It was with that in hand that he began to lean backwards, slowly staring into the sky just as she had and closed his eyes as he laid against the stone, cold steps.

​He could die here, and for a second he had. Kole believed himself capable of reuniting with Lyn, and so, as he died there was nothing but bliss.
 
̸̵͞͝͡ ̶͘͟͠҉ ̴̧̕͟ ̸̧̀͢͡ ̷̵̨͢͠ ̵́̀͟͞ ̷̨͘͡ ̷̶͟ ̢ ̧̕͞ ͏̶̴̧̧ ̵̷͟ ̴͘ ̴̡ ҉͡͡ ͜ ̕͞ ̨͟ ̴̶̧̧ ̸̀̀͘͜ ̵̸̡́ ͏̀ ͡҉̷̀ ̢̧̡̛ ̶̸̨͡ ̡̡͢ ̨̨̛͟҉ ̸̴̛ ̶̵̸̕͞ ̶̡̛̀̕ ̡̀ ҉͟ ̢͡ ̨́͜͝҉ ̶̸͢͜͜ ́͘ ̛ ̕͟ ̶͏҉̕͡ ͘͠ ̛̀͡ ̵̡͟͢͞ ̶ ̴͞ ́́͞ ̨̨͝ ̴̡́͢ ̶ ̢̧̨̀ ͘͡ ̴͜͠ ̸̨̛͟ ̀͠ ̶͟͢ ͡͝ ́͏҉͘ ̵̵͏̨ ̷̴̢͞ ̧̧̛́͟ ̡̕ ҉̨͟͠ ͜͏͢͏ ̢̢̛̀
Ḽ͓̦u̦̯s̝͔͙̝ṱ͖͇̠ͅ ̟̯͜F̺̩͔̖͟o̩r̝̜̩͙ ̠͉Ĺí̯̘f̷̭͚̰͇͚e͍͡ | In̵teracting w͢͢͠i҉t́̕͏h [member="Kole Harper"] ~ High͢ ̧H̷opes ~ "I know it's crazy to believe in sill̀y̢ th͏in̸gs, but i͜t's not ̢t̕h͠a̧t̶ e̢asy.̷"͢
————͏̷̡͠—͘͞҉̷———̢̜̝͕̯—̗̖͖̮̀—̷̏̿̐͊—ͫ͗ͩ̐——————̻͙̝̝̤́̕—̰̪̬͓̠̬̼͎—̡̹͚̪͜ͅ—̴̝̖͔͕̫̣—̵͓ͅ—

"̭͓͢Ju͎̘̼͖͙̱͠ͅs̴͉t̵̪̯ ͖g͖̳e̟͖͝t̳̥͍ ̙͓̣̖̜s̱̖͈̭̤͖͙o̲̮̯̺̜̘m̛̜̜͉͕̱͇͈e̩͇̞͕̱̦̙ ͈̻s̝͈͠ḻ̫̠̼̹e͎̦͘e̟͓͎̬͙̤p̥̱̼.͏ͅ ̼̗̹͜W҉̝o͔r̥͔̥͇̼̭͇k̸ ̯̫̝͔̪̘͔i̲̱n̸ ̛̲͔t̟̫̣͙̮̝ẖ̛̹̺͍̺͎ͅe̥͎̞̲̳͔ ̦͔̭̙̙̟͚̕m̦͔̦ͅo͕͓͔̝̗r͎̗̙͖͚̻͜ͅn̖͎̞̘̦̩͍ị̗̣͙̥͢n͙̩g͖̜̘̜̖,̣͇̖̱̝̰̣ ̩̞̗̗r̗͖ȩ̦ṃ̯̖̙͝e̷m̶̟͇̪͙͍b̟͔̬̣͇̫͢e̝̤̼̜̫̼r̺̩̼?҉"̢

Temporary.

"̨̡͡͡I͢͜͢͡ ̵̸̡͜͝l̸̢̛͟͞ơ͘͝v̸̨̀͘͟e̸̡̨͢҉ ̀͘͟͠y̵̸͜͡͞ơư̡.͏̛́͡"͜͝͞͡

That was it, wasn't it? What she'd said?

"̧̪̹̤̝͉T̺̞͢h̝̱ẹ̴̜̥̮̼̩r̗̖̼̗̜̳e͝'͔̠̩̀s͎̝͞ ́w̟̫͍o̸̺͖̯͚̮r̭̻̻̟̮̩͖͟k̷̮̝̮͍ ̮͚̤̘̬i̱̦̖͈̟̻n͚͚̳̣̯̖̳ ͈̬͞ͅt̢̘h̲̱̱̪e̲̘̘ ̱̝͍̺m̱̤̯͈o͏̼̥͉r͖͍̘͢ṇ̛̻̩̤ͅi͖̫͈̪̙̗͡n̲̗̘̫͖̥̝g͜.̱"͜ She kept saying that. What did it mean? There was no work. There wasn't even any 'her'. Just blood on
snow and the numbing cold of this Godforsaken planet.

But what if there was work? Death couldn't be an end.

Maybe it was a beginning, too.
 

Rakaan Horne

Guest
Orto Plutonia, Some Capital City, The Place, Dawn
Fixing | Interacting with [member="Lynnori Cruz"] ~ Tears in Rain
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There was a light that beamed down upon him. It was bright, it was blinding, had it been death? No, only the Sun. His torso felt stuck in place, his skin almost stretched as the blood had become dry and flaked against his skin. His legs, however, almost appeared covered in snow- he didn't know what to think as a near frozen layer of something leaked across him. It was with a sluggish movement that he had risen, that image in his hand still, almost frozen beneath his finger tips. A gust of wind, however, took it elsewhere; out onto the wind had it flown, soaring, disappearing.

He felt anger, and for more reason than one. He shouldn't be alive, he was only some human- or so he thought. He sighed, almost angered with it. He embraced his death, hoped for it, but it never came. Maybe it wasn't meant to be, he wasn't meant to meet Lyn in the afterlife. Of course, Kole had soon risen and trudged off through the snow once more.

There were unnatural ways of getting someone back to you, and Kole knew the right kind of people that dabbled in the unnatural.
 

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