Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Dominion Remebrance and Healing | AC dominion of Mirial


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Objective 1
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Tag Eina L'lerim-Vandiir Eina L'lerim-Vandiir


"Interesting," thought Isla, as Eina actually made her evaluate her own perception of love. "I suppose love is a connection that goes even beyond family, almost like that person becomes part of you perhaps?" Worried about Eina taking things to literally "I don't mean an actual part of you, I mean... hmm, I don't know really. Part of your feeling, you crave them when they are not there and would put them above all else."

"I knew the Jedi were looking for the perfect balance. If they refuse something because they are afraid of the consequences, isn’t this Bogan’s will? Because they’re afraid they can’t keep their balance?"

This actually made Isla grin "now that my friend, is a philosophical debate for generations of Jedi to argue over." She supposed in a way Eina was right, Jedi that based their actions, or inactions on fear were taking steps in the direction of darkness. She herself followed a fairly strict life based on her faith, but never thought of denying herself over fear.

"As much as what you are feeling hurts, it does get better over time," she said, with sincerity, even if it wasn't all thay convincing right now.

"I don't want you to go home on your own Eina, I can't stop you, but I want to know you are safe, and I don't mean physically safe, I know you can handle yourself, I mean emotionally."

She looked kindly at the fragile woman in front of her, a woman with such strength but also such vulnerability.

"I want to give you something, this is my personal comm, this is not a 'work' thing, this comes straight to me, as my friend, and I want you to use it if you feel alone, or if you just want to hear a friendly voice. Will you do that?"

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Eina L’lerim-Vandiir, the First
Princess of the Eternal Empire and Terraris; Angelic mascot and representative of the Ashlan Crusade
Matriarch of the Valkyrja; Leader of Sanctuary; Liaison of the Fjölkyngi Smiðr Guild
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Location: Sacred Pillar Memorial Hospital
Objective I.: Building thee Facility
Equipment: Sverð Fyrstr (weapons) | Skrúð Engill Fyrstr (armour) || Empyrean gland | OPBC-01m
Tags:: Isla Draellix-Kobitana Isla Draellix-Kobitana (interaction) | Aridius 'TK-1575' Aridius 'TK-1575' | Heinrich Faust Heinrich Faust
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[ Never Meant To Belong ]
<"High Nelvaanian"> | ~ telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >>

"Crave?" she didn't know that feeling either.

The whole thing was still completely incomprehensible to her. She told Gei how she felt, but there was no such thing in it. Or she just couldn't tell. If she conveys her emotions, it would have been a lot easier, but it would have been just a pain now, nothing else. She said nothing about whether it would get better over time. Eina didn't know yet, but she could have tried it, since time passes differently in the Netherworld. But she felt that if she didn’t get answers or explanations, it wouldn’t be better.

"I'll survive." now she was as cold and emotionless as if only her mother had said it.

The Valkyrja looked at the comlink number; she received a biochip, although she was not used many times. She didn't have to be in the Nether, and here she talked to people who were close to her or she could go to them at any time. Eina only realised now, she didn't know Gei's number either. It was so natural for her to show up there near someone she wanted to talk to, she never thought so. She just looked at the number and MANIAC recorded it in the database.

"Thank you… I think." said, still confused, then became invisible and immaterial, and left for Netherworld.


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Tags: Cass Gemini Cass Gemini
Equipment: In bio | Standard loadout

Her shots pretty much tore the poor girl apart... as well as the jockey and his mount. The Fathier sent them flying and for a moment Shai was worried that the fall would kill her bounty. Thank kriff it didn't. Holstering one pistol, Shai removed her helmet as she descended to stand a few feet away from Cass to get a proper look at her.

Shai didn't look much better. Exhausted and with a massive headache still going strong, her eyes looked like they were seconds away from closing as she studied her opponent. Apart from the stun bolts having taken their toll, Cass looked like she came off far better than the rider who still didn't move. They couldn't hang around, sirens were already closing in on the track as they stood there on the finely trimmed grass. A tired smile formed at Cass' request as Shai gave a shrug in response. "Of course. You owe me a drink for all this." She quipped before her pistol let loose with a few bolts directly at her head to knock her out.

If successful, she would proceed to hogtie her with her grappling line and fly off with her bounty, back to her ship to take her away. Only issue was that she didn't come with her freighter, a fact that dawned on her only when she landed by her Basilisk waiting patiently for her return. She and Cass were going to have to get very comfortable with each other in the cockpit on this trip back to HQ...
 

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Objective 1
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Tag Eina L'lerim-Vandiir Eina L'lerim-Vandiir


"Stay safe my friend," said Isla as Eina faded out or the material plane, she didn't feel she had gotten through, maybe there was a glimmer if hope that Eina would think about her words and it would cheer her up a little. At the least she hoped that knowing she had a friend would make her feel less lonely.

Isla wished she knew more about Eina to be able to help more, it was something she would put effort into addressing when she saw her next. Hopefully on calmer terms.

Looking at her data slate, she had about two hours until she and Petro would convene for the evenings races, she was already running through her mind what she might say to him. She would not mention Eina just yet, personal heartbreak was not a matter for public discussion.


Much later that evening...at the race track



What a day, Isla thought to herself as she picked herself along the racecourse. Her meeting with Eina, then her evening with Eina, then watching those two chase each other across one of her races, why now? Was Ashla really trying to test her patience.

She came to the place where the cameras had caught Cass Gemini Cass Gemini and Shai Maji Shai Maji riding the Farthier, or more accurately having a gun fight over them. The authorities had turned up nothing, but this looked a lot like enclave handiwork, some kind of bounty they had said. A jockey had been killed so they would investigate, but they didn't hold out much hope at tracking them down.

Isla felt she needed to be here herself, the area was deemed safe and she had found herself popular on Mirial so she felt no risk on looking. She pictured the red and black woman in her head, running for her life and being taken down by that mandalorian, was she even alive.

Isla couldn't tell anyone why she was here, but then in her role she didn't have to justify her actions to anyone save their absent leader. That was probably lucky as there were questions she wasn't yet ready to answer.

As she walked along, something caught her eye, glinting behind a power unit. She went over an knelt down, nestled between two heavy cables, easy to miss was a light saber hilt. She lifted in the air and flip the activator, a black plasma blade hummed out of the hilt and crackled on front of her, she waved it gently left and right, almost in disbelief of what she was holding.

"Oh Isabella, what have you gotten yourself into now?"

Today had been a very interesting day. Isla deactivated the saber and clipped it to her waist underneath her heavy overcoat, being careful not to let the local authorities see.

"Nothing over here officers, I am ready to return to my suite, sorry to waste your time."

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Location: Out In The Desert | In Town
Objective: Musings | Chasing Down That Drink
Tags: Gorthalon Gorthalon

Vyrien gave a short, affirmative nod to the Yuzzem's suggestion, "I'll see you there, then," and followed the Alliance grunt with his pale stare as the furred individual hopped on their rental and sped off, kicking up grains of desert that were only blown into pursuit by a gust, and leaving him along in the sands, again. Parking his equally pale and clothed rear end back on the saddle of the speeder behind him, Vyr mused on the interaction that had just occurred; knowing full well that there was a time in his life, a time in the not-too-distant past that such an exchange could have gone quite differently, when the form getting more distant by the moment, on that rental speeder, might have been the enemy? That was food for thought.

All this from one day that changed everything, and invoked a recurring nightmare... if that is what it was. His mouth a thin line, the crusader threw a leg over the other side of the saddle, engaged the engine, and sped off to meet Gorthalon for that drink.

A drink at least a part of him needed.



Fifteen minutes later...

So they had used the same rental shop, he assumed, upon spying the furred Alliance man awaiting him close by when he pulled into the speeder yard to drop off his rental and hand in the key fob. This meant nothing, of course, a matter of coincidence, but it was a matter of course for him to notice things... including the handshake he had left unreciprocated, a gesture that still seemed unusual to him, even long separated from the environs of his formative years. A touch that felt as if it was lacking something, he concluded, despite focusing on the flexing and release of his right hand for a scant few moments when leaving the yard, but his eyes lifted, his head followed, and anchored on his to-be drinking companion, in short measure.

"We meet again," he greeted, almost deadpan, as if the pointlessness of such an obvious statement amused him in some indiscernible way, "let us go find 'trouble'," and he gestured for Gorthalon to follow, hardly stopping in his steady paces down the reasonably busy thoroughfare, heading for a hole-in-the-wall bar he'd seen while walking the streets in the crisp minutes of dawn and noticing everything.

After a handful of minutes, he stood aside at the entrance, allowing Gorthalon to enter first, and followed the taller being in, whereupon they quickly found seats as it was much too early for the evening crowd, and went about ordering a couple pints of a good local brew that had come recommended by the staff.

"The seedier the establishment, the more trouble you're bound to find," he said in a low voice as if sharing a secret, after seating themselves at a small table, "no matter the hour."

A vaguely derisive assessment, but entirely him. He relaxed into the seat, draping one arm over the back of it, and the other across the edge of the table as if this was natural, but it was only a well practised impression in that moment - it was hard to truly relax. The face he was moderately used to seeing across the table was attached to someone much smaller, and much, much less polite... and had removed themselves from his life a year or so prior. He still wasn't entirely certain whether he regretted that or not.

"You only need to know how to listen," perhaps he was speaking from experience... and at that, their pints were delivered, with Vyr wasting little time in accosting his by the handle, and lifting it, "To alliances and trouble, then?"

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Tag: Vyrien Paskal Vyrien Paskal
Location:
In Town
Objective: Chasing Down That Drink

The Yuzzem still leaning against the wall, marveling at all the different people making their way on the streets must have drifted off in his thoughts; since the next thing he knew, his newfound Crusader acquaintance has just stepped out of the same rental shop. With his calm disposition, Vyrien greeted him. – We meet again. Let us go find trouble. – The fair-haired person waved for Gorthalon to follow him, seemingly already with a spot in mind. Pushing himself away from the wall with his left elbow, the Yuzzem straightened up, then relaxed into a more comfortable posture. – Vyrien! – He said, with a mildly surprised intonation. His instincts tell him there is much, much more to this man than first meets the eye. First finding him out in the desert, all by himself, combined with his cool demeanor and apparent affinity for showing up out of nowhere, were definitely points the Pathfinder had noted about him in his mental catalogue. Nonetheless, he did not feel threatened, as they were on Mirial, a political checkpoint of the Ashlan Crusade. Vyrien's presence did not seem out of the ordinary in this setting.

- First round's on me. – The Yuzzem offered as he adjusted his gait to match the man's pace. Taking a short trip beneath Mirial's colorful urban vistas, they have arrived within mere minutes after their departure from the rental shop. Vyrien stops and takes a step sideways, beckoning Gorthalon to enter first. A chilling wind howls across the narrow alleyway they find themselves in. Taking a quick look at him with as much of a polite smile as his two gigantic fangs allow him, the robust soldier nods and ducks deep to be able to enter through the doorframe of the dingy cantina. Shivers run all over his torso as a result of the sudden temperature shift.

Maroon velvet curtains line all window frames of the establishment. The color black dominates all other aspects of the place's design characteristics, except for the furniture. The dim lights reflect off of the grey steel chairs and tables. The
oppressive bass of futuristic music filters through the concealed speaker systems at a volume that obscures most other conversations in the room. The female Mirialan bartender dressed in all black glances at the two new patrons and nods with a stern face, takes a drag of the cigarette hanging out of her mouth, then turns away to attend to her duties. The beast's snout doesn't pick up on anything out of the ordinary, which confirms the relative safety of this shady cantina for the moment. The cantina being sparsely populated, they easily find comfortable seating and wasting no time, Vyrien orders two local ales, which the Yuzzem notes as being a tell of good taste. While they wait for the drink, the Yuzzem, pursuant to the permission of the bartender switches his chair for a larger, sturdier one to better withstand his mass. The Yuzzem finally settles down across the table and comfortably sighs.

- The seedier the establishment, the more trouble you're bound to find. - Said Vyrien in a noticeably lower volume, almost obscured by the music in the background and the clanking of metal glasses emanating from the counter's general direction. – No matter the hour. You only need to know how to listen. - The refreshing, tasteful drinks quickly arrive, carried by a male human waiter also dressed in black.

- Believe it or not.. – The Yuzzem lets out a puff of air through his snout and takes his eyes off of the man in front of him, gazing across the bar in a relaxed manner, while simultaneously tapping on his pocket to feel out his credit chain. - … nine out of ten times trouble finds me. – He inhales and rests his hands atop the table, further conveying openness through non-verbal communication. - Of course, I also love playing cards, and I guess you know how those things can end up. – The Yuzzem wraps his hand around the drink that appears comically small in his grasp.

Vyrien raises his drink for a toast.
– To alliances and trouble, then?

The Yuzzem also raising and clinking his glass to the Crusader's, replies. – Let this world be a symbol of the bond between our factions. And to you, Vyrien Paskal, thanks for not judging by appearances!
 
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