Public Matchsticks Are a Girl’s Best Friend

[Scherezade deWinter]

. : Ukatis : .
A field. Somewhere. Could be anywhere. Precise location is not the point.​

The breeze swept her long tresses away from her face. Glowing green eyes surveyed the horizon, where sky met a bunch of trees, giving off an impression that some failure of a beginner artist was probably trying to paint, thinking it would somehow show talent or get them ahead on the field.

The air smelled… Well, to be frank, it stank. Because today was fertilizer day, and the stench hung heavy in the air. Scherezade was breathing very carefully. Her nose wasn't getting accustomed to it.

And yet, that was perfect. The stink was an omen, if you asked her. Fertilizer meant growth, meant crops, meant all the boring stuff farmers dedicated their lives to. Things meant to nourish, sustain, and provide. The exact kind of stability Scherezade had a bad habit of ruining.

Her boots sank half a centimeter into damp soil as she walked. Each step pressed against the order of this tidy little patch of High Republic peace. Somewhere behind the pastoral charm, behind the neatly plowed fields and whitewashed homesteads, the Republic banner probably fluttered from a flagpole. Safety, security, guardians in the stars. All of it.

She snorted. "Guardians don't smell like bantha poodoo."

The point of Ukatis wasn't in its crops or its peace. The point was that she was bored, and boredom with her was combustible. She hadn't come here with a plan. Plans were for politicians, merchants, and the kind of Sith who needed their conquests mapped out like holiday cruises. She'd come here because the Force had whispered, go somewhere green. And fire looked better against green than it ever did against durasteel or sand.

All it would take, she had calculated, was one small spark the matches she had ready in her hands.

---

Tags: Open

 

[Aiden Porte]

Ukatis
Scherezade deWinter

Aiden Porte paused along the dirt path, letting the breeze wash across his face. Fertilizer. Heavy, clinging, natural. And yet, beneath it, the Force carried something else. A wrongness... Not danger in the immediate sense, but tension, the feeling of breath held just before a flame caught. His gaze swept the horizon. Rows of crops stretched into the distance, a tidy quilt of green stitched together by hard hands and hopeful hearts. This was what the High Republic promised people: order, stability, the simple chance to grow. But the longer he stood there, the more he felt that order strained, as if one thread pulled, might unravel the rest.

The Force whispered again. Not in words, but in unease—an impression of fire against green, destruction poised like a hawk above the fields. He drew a slow breath, centering himself against the disturbance.


"Not here," he murmured to himself, though he wasn't sure if it was hope or warning. His hand brushed the hilt at his side, not in readiness but in reassurance. He had been on Ukatis to find an old friend, he succeeded in that task. Only to know he was looking for his own peace. So he opted to remain and help him find that. Whether that be at his old friends side or from a distance. He let him be the judge of that. And know as a pledge to Roman Vossari and Corazona von Ascania he would be here on Ukatis to ensure peace, yet peace was rarely so fragile as when it seemed most serene.


There was someone out there. He could feel it. Not the farmers in their homesteads, not the workers in the fields. Something sharper. Someone with intent. And the Force was leading him straight toward them. Aiden let the unease sit in his chest a moment longer, then started forward. Each step was measured, his boots sinking into damp soil that whispered of rain and growth. The fields should have been a comfort. They weren't.

A spark waiting for fuel as he adjusted course, leaving the path for softer ground, tracing the feeling like a hunter might follow tracks. Birds stirred in the distance, their wings beating into the sky, and Aiden noted the way their flight curved around one stretch of the horizon as if even they chose to avoid it. His hand brushed the hilt of his saber once more, not drawing it, only acknowledging its weight. He prayed he wouldn't need it. Peace was always the first choice. But the Force rarely gave warnings without reason.

He slowed at the rise of a small hill, eyes narrowing. Beyond it, he felt the disturbance stronger now, closer and more defined. Whoever it was, they stood against this world's calm, like oil on clear water.

Aiden breathed in, let the Force guide the next step, and began his silent approach.

 

[Calyx Sundrift]

A field.
Could be anywhere.

In the middle of it, between rows of crops and the stench of fertilizer, stood Calyx Sundrift. Dark pants, loose and muddied white shirt, hands shading his eyes. No shoes, no bags, and absolutely no sense of direction.

Could he be blamed? Aside from a treeline on the horizon, everything looked the same. Flat, bland, desolate.

Still, it was nice, in a way. The place had a different kind of stink than Troithe, Denon, or Niamos.

He just would’ve preferred something to shield him from the sun. Or that mean little breeze that cut through now and then.

Or, well- his bags, really.

Waking up in a field was one thing. Getting robbed blind was another.

Not that it had come as a total surprise, of course. He had made a few ill-advised comments about his pilot’s pin-up girls before realizing they were, in fact, pictures of the man’s daughters.

But his boots? Really? At least leave a man his dignity.

He squelched onward through the mud. Somewhere out here, someone had to be willing to help.

Scherezade deWinter Aiden Porte

 

[Alana Calloway]

Tags: Open Calyx Sundrift Aiden Porte Scherezade deWinter
Gear: In Bio

Alana adjusted her duster as she looked about at the gathering, and fiddled with the cigarillo she had in hand. Currently, she was doing her best to not reflect back to Dantooine.

She was trying the whole listen to the Force routine, and now it had led her-

Right to the middle of nowhere.

She ignored the clinging of mud to her boots, feeling the suction as she went forward. Still having not lit up the cigarillo in her hand, she directed her attention to the bystanders before her, and felt that maybe if she still had her hat, she’d look like she’d belong her.

She did have a capacity to look like a ranch hand, long as she kept her tattoos hidden. At the recollection, she tugged at her duster, trying to cover up the Nar Shaddaa gang tattoo on her collarbone.

She would need to get that removed sometime, probably wasn’t the best look. One hand in her pocket, the other still holding her unlit smoke, she trudged on ahead, glancing back and forth to see how many other suckers had gotten conned by the Force to show up.

Or maybe this was just some round about way for some Jedi Master to host a bonfire party.

She wasn’t going to complain if that was the case.

Well actually, if no one brought any alcohol, she’d take a pretty big issue with this.

Seriously, who the hell hosts a gathering out here and doesn’t pre-plan a party?

Damn lack of hospitality is what that was.

What if it was invite only?

Would they make her leave?

The thought crossed Alana’s mind, and her expression shifted to one of annoyance.

Oh, there would be hell to pay if they turned her back now….

 

[Roman Vossari]

​

LOCATION: Ukatis
TAGS: Scherezade deWinter | Aiden Porte | Calyx Sundrift | Alana Calloway

​

The morning broke as it always did for Roman now: quiet, steady, with enough work to fill the hours before the heat settled over the land. He rose with the sun, shaking off sleep, pulling on his familiar worn shirt and boots. A shag of unruly red hair fell across his eyes, he brushed it back. His hands were already rough from days of labor, and he welcomed it. These were his anchors now, simple, solid things Ukatis had given him.

He had learned to appreciate the quiet. The endless green fields, the rhythm of tending cattle, the sound of his horse's steady breath. This was a different kind of survival from the one that had haunted him before. There were no knives waiting in the dark, no traps sprung on city streets. Here, danger didn't wear a face. It might be a storm on the horizon, a drought, or perhaps nothing at all. He preferred it that way.

Aiden had been lingering lately, lending a hand when the mood struck, and Roman didn't mind. In truth, it was good to have his oldest friend close, even if the Jedi's reasons weren't entirely spoken. Still, this morning the fields were quiet. No trace of him at the corrals, no quiet remarks over the fence rail. Roman smirked as he swung into the saddle. Perhaps the knight had finally been driven off by the labor: pitching hay and mending fences felt far less glamorous than lightsabers or battle meditations.

The horse shifted beneath him, strong and familiar, as Roman guided it toward the pasture. The herd needed grazing; simple, good work. But halfway across the field, something snagged at him. A pull. It was low in his gut, sharp enough to draw his eyes up from the cattle. The Force. A faint, steady disturbance pulsed, like a ripple moving under calm water.

He nudged the horse onward, letting instinct guide the way. Cresting a rise, he slowed. There, across the stretch of farmland, he saw him: Aiden, moving carefully, tense in his stride, as if expecting danger where there shouldn't be any. Roman sat back in the saddle, squinting against the light, watching. The breeze tugged at his shaggy red hair, and the horse stamped once, impatient.

"What are you up to now, friend..." Roman muttered under his breath. For the moment, he stayed at a distance, perched on his horse, wary but watchful. He would let Aiden's unease tell its story before deciding whether to ride down and join him.

 

[Hanna]

Location: Field - Ukatis
Objective:

• Set a field on fire.
• Do anything that Scherezade deWinter says.

Tag: Scherezade deWinter Aiden Porte Calyx Sundrift Alana Calloway Roman Vossari

The Agents of Chaos were defunct, and had been for years. Hanna was a mercenary now, working primarily with the Mandalorian Empire as a Writ of Iron signatory. A position that entitled her to generous stipends, benefits, salvage rights, and certain legal protections with the Mandalorian Empire. In general, she had little reason to venture outside of Mandalorian space beyond what was required for her missions.

But for this, the Qilin had made an exception.

For one, Scherezade was a friend. A sister of a sister. A fellow Wild Huntress. That alone was enough reason for Hanna to be curious, if only to see what the Blood Hound was up to after so long, and perhaps to help her find Madalena, if she was still alive.

However, there was also the promise of chaos.

Hanna had never truly abandoned her faith in Discordia. However, it had certainly undergone a crisis. She hoped that this excursion—or sacrificial pyre—would trigger a reawakening within herself. Something that would reignite her fervor after years of deprivation. In that, she didn’t need the Agents of Chaos to come back. She just needed to feel a breath of the same passion she had felt during her time in the Wild Hunt.

And what better way to achieve that than through casual arson?

Thus, Hanna worked quickly as she finished setting up the acid covered glitter explosives which had been set at various points across the field. While potent and dangerous, the glitter was ultimately a distraction for the true course, which would come next.

Iadrium.

“The glitter is set. It's ready to go off on your signal.” Hanna transmitted to Scherezade deWinter over their ghostwave-concealed, encrypted comms as she glanced across the field. It was only then that the Qilin caught sight of movement from various figures. A redheaded man seated on a horse. A white-haired woman clad in a duster. A disheveled man dressed in a muddied white shirt, who seemed to have woken up from a dirt nap. And then, another man standing on the rise of a hill in the distance.

Hanna frowned.

“I think we have company.”

 

[CT-312]

//: Scherezade deWinter Hanna Ruus Kote | OPEN //:
//: Nearby: Aiden Porte , Calyx Sundrift Alana Calloway Roman Vossari //:
//: Field , Ukatis //:
//: Attire //:
//: EQUIPMENT: Halcyon Armour| M.I. 'Sunstroke' jetpack| M.I. 'Halo' jump boots | Contact Lenses | Wrist Mounted APG | Ancile Shield | Navi/Barca //:
//: WEAPONS: VW 864 Maser Rifle | LO-18D | M.I. Model 7 shotgun | LO-22S | Sunshot Pistol | M.I. Model 6 hybrid pistol //:
//: 40|40 Active Mag : 2 Backup Mags x LO-KI/22 Standard Slug Round //:
//: ADDITIONAL EQUIPMENT: 2x Kushute Grenades | 6 x Shiva Knife | S.A.N.D. Powder //:
//: 2x Ion Grenade | 2x Flash Grenade | 2x Incendiary Grenade | 2 x Smoke Grenade //:
//: 1 x Arrow head of Absence | Taozin amulet | LK Spider Slicer Droid //:
​

Another shore leave. Not her idea, but she went with it. CT-312 received a ping by their newest member, Scherezade deWinter . Odd one. Chaotic as hell. Not bad at all, capable and interesting. Gets the job done. CT-312 couldn’t complain about results. Granted, she was curious about this ‘adventure’ Sherezade mentioned.

"Something, something, the Force was telling her to go out into 'High Republic' space." The Scout didn’t get it. Not for a second, but tagged along anyways. Research and observation. To see what others did during their off-time.

Arriving at Ukatis, it was just some fields. Endless farmers' fields stretching far out. CT-312 trudged in silence behind Scherezade. Boots grinding in damp soil. BARCA marked the surrounding area with streams of text across her visor. Her Taozin amulet tucked away. CT-312 always kept it close whenever missions or places involving Force sensitives were around. Made her… quieter and easy to miss. Another layer of protection, just in case.

Ruus Kote was in the area too. Worked a few jobs together before. Reliable and steady. Easy enough to move with. Another woman, Hanna as well. New, at least to CT-312, but not Scherezade. The Scout kept quiet, stationing herself near. Watching. Listening. It was quiet all around. Too peaceful one may say.

She snorted. "Guardians don't smell like bantha poodoo."

CT-312 froze mid-step. Repeating it back under her breath, slow and flat. “Bantha. Poo. Doo.” Visor tilted towards Scherezade. A flicker of amusement began to set in. Weird, but it broke the monotony. BARCA pinged a point of interest. A single hard blink–lenses zoomed in, looking towards the POI. Yellow warning scrolled down her HUD.

[ BARCA ]
[ Caution - Air Index Content ]
[ Methane | Ammonia | Hydrogen Sulfide | Carbon Dioxide]
[ Flammable & possible asphyxiation. Explosive conditions. ]

It was… a manure pit. Another hard blink— zoom off. CT-312 passed the information of the “Explosive conditions” through their linked systems. Her visor found Ruus, giving him a simple upward nod. An unspoken gesture of: Nice helmet. Bantha poodoo indeed.

“The glitter is set. It's ready to go off on your signal.”

‘Glitter?’ CT-312 stilled once more. Glitter as in Glitterstim? Were they about to flood a whole field with spice? Drug the crops? No. couldn’t be. As she was about to ask, Hana made mention of company. That pulled CT-312 back sharp. Posture shifted as her spine straightened and weapon already drawn tighter to her chest. Her boots dug into the soil as she dropped her weight subtly, one knee flexing. Muttering to herself, “Barca. Systems stand-by.” A quick double-blink, her lens switched to infrared. Heat signatures burst across the field. Four hazy glows in the distance as CT-312 mapped them out.

Her visor stayed fixed on the sudden 'company'. CT-312’s voice crackled through the modulator, low and flat with an edge of sarcasm. “You think they want to have a chat?” Double-blinking again, vision back to normal. She wasn't here for fighting. Off-duty or not, this was supposed to be an 'adventure', not an operation. But if it came to engagement... Her grip tightened against the weapon stock, low but ready. Standing silently, visor watching.

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Tags: Alana Calloway Calyx Sundrift CT-312 Roman Vossari Aiden Porte Hanna
Location: RUNNING FROM THE FIELD BECAUSE FIRE

---

The stink still clung to her nostrils. No matter how carefully she tried to breathe, fertilizer was fertilizer, and fertilizer was bantha poodoo by any other name. Though, she had an aunt who specifically collected and sold various kinds of poodoo, but that little nugget of information is probably not to the interest of absolutely anyone in this thread right now.

"Guardians don't smell like bantha poodoo," she muttered again, louder this time, as if repetition might make the Force laugh. It didn't. Boo.

The breeze carried something else now, shifts in the air, presences brushing along the edge of her awareness. Hanna and CT-312 were by her side, and both had been promised a day of fun by the Sithling, though it wasn't specifically their presence that she was now beginning to sense. Hanna was an old contact, and Scherezade's ego wasn't too great to admit she had missed the diminutive Discordia-lover. And CT was someone Scherezade had already saved once before (or during?) adopting her as a teammate.

And the smell… Was it… Were those farmers? No, farmers didn't walk like that. Farmers didn't feel like that. Jedi stink was different. It always carried that self-important sparkle at the edges, like a glowstick trying too hard to be a sun.

Her lips twisted into a grin. It reminded her a little bit of her best friend, who was still a Jedi last she saw him.

Perfect.

Boots squelched again in the damp soil as she stepped off the neat little track, ignoring how the mud licked greedily at her soles. Somewhere behind her, Hanna's voice crackled through the ghostwave comm, steady and professional. The glitter is set. Oh, the glitter! That was going to be beautiful. And loud. And shiny. And Scherezade giggled like a mad princess woman.

She reached into her satchel, fingers brushing across the familiar hilt of a knife, the cool weight of incendiary capsules, the lighter she'd stolen last week just because it had a tiny cartoon tooka-cat painted on the side.

If the Force wanted a bonfire, she was going to give it the greatest, sparkliest, fire-foamy type of bonfire it had ever seen.

Her head tilted, hair whipping across her cheek as she spotted movement: a rider on a horse ( Roman Vossari ), a shadow on a hill ( Aiden Porte ), the awkward scuffle of someone barefoot and muddy ( Calyx Sundrift ), a woman with a duster ( Alana Calloway ). Strangers and not-strangers. Curious. Watching. Waiting.

"Well," she said to no one in particular, glowing green eyes sparking with mischief, "looks like the party brought itself. I hope you guys are ready to run. Stay close to me!"

And with that, the Sith removed a lighter from her pocket, and lit it. Do you know what happens when the very air is so heavy with fertilizer and someone lights a match?

"RUN RUN RUN!" the Sith screamed, already running herself. She wouldn't leave her teammates behind, of course. Her o.m. was all about getting them safely back once the fun was over. But they were absolutely going to have a gay old time!

"RUNNNNNNNN!" she screamed again, legs going wild, circling back to make sure that if any of the group was slower than her at running, she could use the Force to get them away from the fire, her laughter cackling through out the entire thing.

And the field?

Well. Fire. Lots and lots of fire!

 

[Aiden Porte]

Aiden caught wind of others, there was to many people at play here for this just to be an isolated incident. He looked back up, feeling the presence of Roman Vossari and then there was another Calyx Sundrift

And then he could see her, Scherezade deWinter and her companions, playing with fire so to speak. "Stop!" Aiden said as he moved closer to them, but it was too late, the match in her hand. She wasn't here for vengeance, this was seemingly a game to her as he took note of the smile and demeanor that she held. Aiden saw the match leave her hands, and thus erupted into a fire storm of events. The reflection of it shown in his eyes, he moved a step closer, to do what must be done.

He dropped into a wide stance, drawing a deep breath as he thrust both hands forward. The air around him thickened, vibrating with the strain as he pulled the currents of the Force into a solid wall. Flames reared up like living things, crashing against the invisible barrier that shimmered faintly in their light, bending and curling but failing to cross. Sparks danced against it, hissing harmlessly into smoke.

His jaw clenched, every muscle taut as he widened the barrier, pushing it outward like a dome. The fire pressed in hungrily, as though testing his resolve. "Not today, Ukatis has suffered enough....." Aiden growled under his breath, eyes narrowing. He could already feel the sweat beading along his brow, not from heat, but from the weight of the Force singing through him.

Through the haze of fire and smoke, Aiden caught a glimpse of movement she a woman darting, laughing, her joy as sharp and jagged as glass. She was pulling others with her, dragging her team clear even as she reveled in the destruction.

She was turning the fire into a spectacle. But he was here to dampen it.

CT-312 Hanna

 

[Adele Adonai]

Even a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. ~ Caamasi Proverb

It came quietly, a ripple in the weave of stillness.

The Iridonian's head turned from under her grey cowl, the worn fabric shifting with the slow swivel of attention. From a distance came raised voices, sharp and tense, the brittle edge of fear, manic joy, confusion, and anger braided together. The sound carried across the fields, threading into the shells of her ears.

And then came the fire.

A sudden roar of heat and crackle, the breath of the land itself exhaling in flame as the fertilizer caught. Orange tongues leapt hungrily skyward, dancing through rows of freshly laid crops, carried swiftly by the wind. The field burst alive in fury, sparks scattering as the wind picked up the embers into the air.

A'dele did not rush, but her stride lengthened as she drew near. One pale, weathered hand rose in a subtle gesture, and the Force flowed into her with a quiet calm.

And with the next breath, the Force surged out.

It spilled from her palm in a luminous swell, weaving outward to join the straining barrier Aiden Porte already held aloft. The shield thickened, layered, its trembling lines steadied by the quiet addition of the Jedi Master's strength. Threads of her will entwined with his, reinforcing the wall against the ravenous blaze.

"Be still," she murmured to the storm of fire, her voice a calm, low whisper carried through the weave of the Force. However, the shield alone would not be sufficient. She reached deeper, steady as a stone in a river's current, and bent her will into the air itself.

And the Force listened.

Oxygen slowly began to falter beneath her shaping touch, pulling thin, displacing, and stripping it from the fire's eager mouth. The flames started to writhe, slowly being starved of breath, their hunger beginning to be smothered where her unseen hand pressed down.

All the while, her lipid blue gaze lingered on the waning flames, her breath soft with the Caamasi proverb in the roaring chaos.

"Even the fiercest fire can be smothered by calm air."

Scherezade deWinter | Aiden Porte | Roman Vossari | CT-312 | Calyx Sundrift | Alana Calloway ​

 

[Roman Vossari]

​

LOCATION: Ukatis
TAGS: Aiden Porte | Adele Adonai | Scherezade deWinter | CT-312 | Hanna | Calyx Sundrift | Alana Calloway

​

The blaze erupted faster than Roman's mind could piece the chaos together. One heartbeat he was staring at Aiden, stiff with tension; the next, the fields went up in a rush of fire and sound. His horse reared beneath him, eyes rolling white, nostrils flaring with the stench of burning fertilizer. Roman gritted his teeth, both hands on the reins, holding tight as the animal fought against instinct to bolt.

"Easy, steady," he murmured low, his rough voice breaking against the roar. He let his words carry with the Force, a quiet, stubborn will pushing out to the frightened animal. His presence reached for the horse, a steadying weight, a hand on the heart. Slowly, the thrashing stilled, though the animal's breath still came fast and panicked beneath him.

Ahead, he saw the pale gleam of Aiden bracing against the inferno, arms raised, the invisible wall of his power bowing under the flames. And beside him, another. A woman, cloaked, calm in a way that seemed to cut straight through the chaos. Roman didn't know her, but he didn't have to. The air itself was bending under her will, feeding strength into the barrier, smothering the fire where Aiden alone might have been consumed.

Roman's jaw tightened. Ukatis. Always someone trying to make ashes of what little peace the planet scraped together. First wars, now Sithlings playing with matches like children. What was it about this place that drew ruin to its fields?

He swung down from the saddle, boots sinking into damp earth, one hand still pressed firm to the horse's neck as he moved closer. His other arm stretched out, calloused palm open. He wasn't wielding the Force as a weapon; instead, he offered what he could: his steadiness, his stubbornness, the same quiet strength that had kept him alive when he should've been long dead. It wasn't elegant or truly trained, but he set his will into the wall Aiden and the stranger held, acting as a third voice in the harmony, a stone pressed into the crumbling dam.

"Hold, Aiden!" Roman called above the roar, his eyes narrowed against the smoke and sparks. "You're not alone in this!" The fire cracked and snapped, the air thick with the stink of burning, but Roman planted his boots and refused to give an inch. This land had given him something worth protecting, worth standing against nightmares for. He would not let Ukatis burn, not again.

 

[Hanna]

Location: Field - Ukatis
Objective:

• Set a field on fire.
• Do anything that Scherezade deWinter says.

Tag: Scherezade deWinter Aiden Porte Calyx Sundrift Alana Calloway Roman Vossari CT-312 Adele Adonai

Hanna studied the oncoming figures through her helmet’s optics. A number of them were clad in the rough-spun attire of farmers, yet carried themselves with a poise that suggested something else.

What that was, Hanna could not yet elucidate.

"Well," she said to no one in particular, glowing green eyes sparking with mischief, "looks like the party brought itself. I hope you guys are ready to run. Stay close to me!"

“Got it. Coming towards you!” Hanna chirped out over comms, her voice an urgent, yet playful melody. Then, in a swift, fluid motion, the Qilin drew one of her verpine shatter pistols and she zipped towards the Blood Hound via her repulsorlift skates, before gracefully drifting to a halt next to her ally. By that point, the match had been thrown, its tiny flame kissing the stinking pile of fertilizer and combustibles—and the liquid iadrium canisters concealed beneath.

Then, it was time to move.

Hanna took off in a blinding burst of acceleration, repulsorlift skates propelling her through the field with all the speed of a rocket as she left the burgeoning inferno as a diminishing orange flower in her wake. A glance over her shoulder confirmed that Scherezade and CT-312 were giving a valiant chase. Still, with how fast the skates could carry her, the Qilin had raced past them as if they were standing still.

Satisfied that she had created enough distance, Hanna pivoted with a ballerina’s precision to a sudden halt, her skates skimming the air as she swerved to face the blooming explosion she had left in her wake. Fire and smoke filled the area in a raging dome, expanding quickly to cover a portion of the field before meeting an unseen metaphysical barrier.

Hanna adjusted her optics, zooming in on the figures gathered around the fire, arms outstretched as they wrestled with the flames through sheer force of will.

And as she did, a smile teased at the corners of her lips.

“Here comes the glitter!”

POP! POP! POP! CRACK!

Several explosions of pink and blue glitter went off in sequence, rippling through the air like confetti at a party. And like all glitter, it was mercilessly pervasive, drifting lazily toward the group of Force-wielders ( Roman Vossari Aiden Porte Adele Adonai ) desperately trying to stop the spread of the inferno, in addition to anyone else within the vicinity. including towards the trio of Force-wielders who were attempting to stop the spread of the inferno. Should the seemingly innocuous specks find their marks, the acid-laced glitter would eagerly begin to feast on flesh, bone, and armor alike, potentially distracting the Force-wielders’ efforts, in the process!

Spoiler: Loadout

• Sparkle Velocity
  
  • Gauntlets and Vambraces
    
    • Modular Weapon Mount (3) - R
      
      • PC-05V Plasma Caster
        
        • Ammunition
          
          • Medium Plasma Gas Canister
      • NML-02VTB Nano Missile Launcher
        
        • Ammunition
          
          • Depleted Baradium-tipped Baradium Nano Missiles (12)
    • Modular Weapon Mount (3) - L
      
      • IceJet Miniaturized CryoBan Projector
        
        • Ammunition
          
          • CryoBan Canister
      • Repulsor Projector
• Hanna’s HB-42 Disruptor Pistols (2)
  
  • Ammunition
    
    • FAE/AM-01-S2 Energy Weapon Cartridge - Ethaerium X Gas and CryoBan Coolant (12)
  • Attachments
    
    • 1-5x FAE/S-08 Electro-Sight
• Glitter Roses (2)
  
  • Ammunition
    
    • Extended Magazine - Standard Penetrator: Void Stone Treatment (2)
    • Standard Magazine - Antimatter Explosive: Void Stone Treatment (4)
  • Attachments
    
    • 1-5x FAE/S-08 Electro-Sight

 

[Calyx Sundrift]

Calyx saw the specks in the distance. He’d needed a moment to confirm that they weren’t grazing animals, but five minutes and another distance crossed confirmed that they were, in fact, people. He supressed a cry of relief. Hours of walking alone through endless fields made one starved for contact. Especially one such as Calyx.

Of course, that all became less of a relief when some of these dots started running and the field ignited. Painting the sky with black smoke and a fiery ball of light.

He still stood a distance away - far enough not to be caught in the initial blooming fire. Not far enough to be safe for another fifteen minutes. The fire spred fast, it’s tongues whisking a way through the field toward him faster than even water could. It was the fertilizer, he presumed.

“Oh by Surik’s blade.” Calyx muttered as he turned and went into a light jog. “Of course the only people I find on an entire planet just so happen to be arsonists.” Calyx scanned the horizon. The fire would outrun him eventually. He’d need to find a way out of this volatile field.

He’d barely set three steps before his gaze fell on another figure, a short distance away. A tough-looking woman in a duster Alana Calloway . Calyx brought a hand to his mouth and yelled. “Oi lady!” He threw caution into the wind. If she levelled a blaster at him, so be it. “Might wanna stop freezing and start running eh?”

Maybe she had a way out of here. That’d be marvellous.