There was a long minute passing where the ever longing thoughts cleared from the hermit's mind. All of her calculations, slowly disappearing, all of her continuing stories, tucked away. Soon it was just her, the man, and her constant guard keeping strong anywhere near her hut. A few more moments passed, when out of no where it seemed the man was in her boots.
Yes, he was wearing black boots, and tangled dirtied red hair laid in an emotional side flip over one eye. In front of him laid a few crew members of some type of gang. He could move in this simulation, but words and forced actions made themselves too heavy to avoid. It was clear, after just a look, that she wore a large dangling blue pendant with ancient writing surrounding the rust that held it. Her outfit was something tight grasping, showing most of her toned body proudly. A few scars and all around the arms and waist area, where it was uncovered. "Blue," One of the members called as a sack of credits flew in the air, caught quickly by the gloved hand.
Kiara felt it once, then her head forced its way to look at the group with a painful upset glare resting on the few. "This isn't even enough for a full tank." She explained her frustration. Of the buffer of the few, they came forth with arms crossed. Kiara didn't bulge her form. "It's your cut." "My cut isn't enough." She argued again. A sudden red spot of pain fell over her cheek, then a blinding white blow to her stomach. Kiara grunted as she fell forward lightly in her seated position, only to be bashed again on the side. She fell over, keeping a grip on her small bag of credits. "Got it?" Sneered the leader of sorts in the operations. Kiara kept quiet, then forced herself to sit up. The pain was quickly targeted into a white spot in the few areas. At least she knew where it was. At least Solan could feel the pain.
The setting passed without so much more than a grey smokey transmission like the wing of a dragon, powerful and painful stroke of existence. Kiara was dressed in a new outfit, this time a full combat suit from something around twenty years ago. In her hand laid a pair of blue, green, and red blooded throwing stars. She stared forward with her one clear eye, staring at the four bodies with several cuts in their faces. She killed them in her sleep. A new sound interrupted the confusion that was her emotions, and before she could turn, she felt her body scoot forward as a bolt layered armor. She flipped around. Within an instant, the helmet targeted the man. One of the new crew members, fresh off the street with rags and a pair of sandals.
Kiara walked forward as bolt after bolt flew by or hit her in the most armored places. Soon she stood before the trembling boy, just his height thanks to the suit. She kicked the gun out of his hand as if it were nothing, then slid off her glove and forced it against his chest. There was a feeling of draining coming from her body, forcing itself into a painful energy fueling the boy. Once she was finished, she withdrew her hand and pulled off her helmet, staring at the boy frozen before her.
Kiara's lips moved slowly so the stranger could hear every word she spoke. "You are to tell everyone I killed these men. If you don't, I'll kill you." Her voice was young and firm, but just in that moment the vision cleared, and Kiara started to fiddle with her mechanics again, back in the hut. "There ya go, the beginning."
[member="Solan Charr"]
