0bserver

[0bserver]

Character Name: Nika Jadeonar

Character Source: SWU

Character Faction/Alignment: Fringe / Chaotic neutral

Type of Roleplay: Well, the general idea is that Nika's being chased and caught by guards of her mark, and abuse and general bad things happen from here. Everything else is up to mentor.

Roleplay Requirements: Mentor would play a small group of guards.

Reason for Request: A bit of a psychological barrier I am trying to deal with. I feel very bad, if not outright sh*tty when bad things happen to my char, aka if they are hurt, both physically and psychologically. I hope that exposure to those kinds of things would rise my tolerance to them.

Notes: Make her situation hopeless.

Roleplay:

_________________


Things were going to hell.

You know that statement is true, when you're running down one of the narrow, garbage-filled back-alleys of Nar-Shaddaa, and have three or four more dudes chasing after you. They have blasters in their hands, and only many turns and twists of said alleyway are preventing them from getting a good shot at you. At this point, you should be running for your life, and ask yourself: "How the hell did this happen?!"

Those were exact thoughts that were running through Nika's head, as she found herself in the situation described above. her armor was charred, dirty, signs of a few glancing blaster bolts across it. Running through a dark, abandoned alleyway, putrid trash, broken glass and rubble crumpling under her boots. Jumping over an occasional trash can, dodging stray blaster shots, and shooting behind herself blindly, in a hope of thwarting her pursuers, if only for a little bit. And swearing under her breath.

- Oh for crying out..., one tiny screwup, and already 4 blockheads are after my ... ngh... head... - an annoyed groan escaped her throat when a blaster bolt came a little too close to her side. Heart raced, and she had to keep attention both on her pursuers and watch under her legs - one misplaced bottle would mean she would trip, and be done for.

The twi'lek was running from her target, and his men. A petty swoop gang leader, which distributed spice. He was causing troubles to local law enforcement, and they offered her a nice sum for bringing his sorry ass in. Locating the guy wasn't hard enough, but one thing Nika forgot, was that it was a swoop GANG leader, and that he would probably not be alone...

- And this is the last... frikkin... time I take contracts like this... If I get out of this mess first... - the girl muttered, throwing the trash can on the ground behind her, before turning around another corner. Her breathing was heavy, and heart felt like it would jump out of her throat. She couldn't run like this for too long, she had to stall them...

PEW! PEW! PEW!

Pressing herself against the wall, she shot around the corner with one of her blasters, not aiming, to force her enemies into cover, and allow the twi'lek to catch her breath. She had her second blaster at hand two, in case of even more trouble. Though, it was hard to imagine more trouble than the one she was in right now. A tinge of fear completely suppressed by adrenaline rush and feeling of danger.

If not for the situation being life-threatening, this would've been kinda fun. But Nika was more preoccupied with other things right now. I need to get to the crowded streets... They'll lose my trail among the people... - thoughts spun frantically in her head as she leaned out a bit and shot a few more times, aiming this time.

Just how many scumbags were there?!

[Dean]

You want some character to make your characters life miserable? ABLIDGED!

EDIT: Sorry, did not know that.

[Jenno]

Aarati, these threads are only for the members requesting a Roleplay Mentor and the Roleplay Mentor who's going to be helping the applicant with their writing. Please keep this in mind in the future.

[Kella]

Thank you so much for your patience! I shall adopt you now, and our writing adventures shall be grand! =D

And definitely devoid of delusions of grandeur. <.<

Anyway. If you ever want any more specific/general feedback, or have any questions, or concerns, or just want to discuss writing concepts or anything like that, absolutely let me know. I do this for the fun of it. =D

And definitely not for the power trips... >.>

<.<

Anyway. Let's get started!

May 24, 2012 7:26:02 GMT -5 0bserver said:

Things were going to hell.

You know that statement is true, when you're running down one of the narrow, garbage-filled back-alleys of Nar-Shaddaa, and have three or four more dudes chasing after you. They have blasters in their hands, and only many turns and twists of said alleyway are preventing them from getting a good shot at you. At this point, you should be running for your life, and ask yourself: "How the hell did this happen?!"

((I looooove that you're experimenting a bit with the storytelling here. >D Awesome. Though, the second-person present-tense really doesn't fit, especially since the board rules do restrict things to third-person past-tense. It helps everything stay coherent and make sense. That being said, I really like the way things are presented here, so you could keep the same structure and just change the tense/narration, and it'd be a great hook of an intro.))

Those were exact thoughts that were running through Nika's head, as she found herself in the situation described above. Her armor was charred, dirty, signs of a few glancing blaster bolts across it. Running through a dark, abandoned alleyway, putrid trash, broken glass and rubble crumpling under her boots. ((Technically a sentence fragment, so it either needs a subject at the beginning, or another independent clause at the end. Like 'she was running', or 'Running ... boots, she could feel her heart beat in her ears.')) Jumping over an theoccasional trash can, dodging stray blaster shots, and shooting behind herself blindly, in a hope of thwarting her pursuers, if only for a little bit. And swearing under her breath. ((Same with these last two sentences, as far as fragments. You actually can get away with them for effect, you just want them to be a little less frequent. Like, if you changed the first of the last two sentences to make it complete, you could leave the last fragment as it is, 'cause it's got nice atmosphere and pacing being a fragment.))

- Oh for crying out..., one tiny screwup, and already 4 blockheads are after my ... ngh... head... - ((Definitely use quotation marks. x3 It can be confusing coming to SWU from other RPing formats, so definitely no worries. But we to tend to more formal writing conventions here, just 'cause in general SWU tends to focus on writing/storytelling so much more than other RPs.)) an annoyed groan escaped her throat when a blaster bolt came a little too close to her side. Heart raced, ((You do probably want 'her heart raced', 'cause with these things, you have to either totally commit to stream-of-consciousness broken fragments, or more complete thoughts/narration. Mixing them tends to get confusing. :/ Always fun to experiment with, though, so just work on finding that balance.)) and she had to keep attention both on her pursuers and watch under her legs - one misplaced bottle would mean she would trip, and be done for.

The twi'lek was running from her target, and his men. A petty swoop gang leader, which distributed spice. He was causing troubles to local law enforcement, and they offered her a nice sum for bringing his sorry ass in. Locating the guy wasn't hard enough, but one thing Nika forgot, was that it was a swoop GANG ((Same thing here as with the quotation marks, technically you want italics instead of caps. BUT. I am very entertained by this thought process. xD)) leader, and that he would probably not be alone...

- And this is the last... frikkin... time I take contracts like this... If I get out of this mess first... - the girl muttered, throwing the trash can on the ground behind her, before turning around another corner. Her breathing was heavy, and her heart felt like it would jump out of her throat. She couldn't run like this for too long, she had to stall them...

PEW! PEW! PEW!

Pressing herself against the wall, she shot around the corner with one of her blasters, not aiming, to force her enemies into cover, and allow the twi'lek to catch her breath. She had her second blaster at hand two, in case of even more trouble. Though, it was hard to imagine more trouble than the one she was in right now. A tinge of fear completely suppressed by adrenaline rush and feeling of danger.

If not for the situation being life-threatening, this would've been kinda fun. But Nika was more preoccupied with other things right now. I need to get to the crowded streets... They'll lose my trail among the people... - thoughts spun frantically in her head as she leaned out a bit and shot a few more times, aiming this time.

Just how many scumbags were there?!

You did a great job of jumping right into the action and hooking the reader's interest here. You've also got a good sense of pacing -- enough detail to get an image, but not so much that the action suffers.

Because I love to ramble about all matters psychological... I'm not sure you entirely want to become desensitized to the situations your characters end up in, good, bad, or ugly. Now, granted, I tend to sort of sadistically plan tragedies for my characters so I can mess around with their psychology and how they work through them. >.> But. Sometimes you can channel that sort of anxiety and concern into your writing. How does it make you feel? What reaction do you have to it? How would your character react differently? I get a lot of inspiration for how to handle my characters from what's happened to me and how I think about things -- as much making my characters different from myself, as using my reactions. So, use that sympathy and conflict you feel when your characters are in trouble, and make your readers feel the same way.

That being said, since you have asked for a dire situation, you'll get the benefit of that aforementioned sadistic tragedy-planning. xD

Anywho.

Onward!

---

Nar-Shaddaa was hell.

Yatik B'sar had always been taught that Hell was not a place -- Hell was what happened when good men lost their convictions and let evil do what it always did -- trample and burn.

But if Nar-Shaddaa was Hell, then Yatik was a demon. He'd abandoned his religious sentiments when he'd abandoned his homeland, but that thought had always stuck with him.

It was a numb, sad knowledge. That so many people lived every day in Hell without knowing it. Wasn't like they could leave, though.

No, Hell chased them like he chased the girl, devoid of remorse and fueled by a sense of debt. Did she deserve the voracity of their hunt?

Did he deserve his own hellish life?

Such questions meant nothing in Nar-Shaddaa. Meant nothing to Yatik. He simply followed the current matter at hand, like an emaciated dog followed a scrap of meat. He dodged and ducked around the various obstacles, deftly maneuvering through the alley.

He lacked both Boar's desperate edge and mountainous physique. The other man growled as he smashed through trash bins and crushed bottles underfoot. While Yatik had a pistol, Boar had an assault rifle. Yet, Yatik knew that Boar's ferocity came from the face that, deep down inside, he was the most vulnerable of them all.

There were two other guards in the group, for a total of four. Other quartets harmonized in barber shops -- this quartet harmonized in combat. It seemed strange, for such an insignificant operation to have such capable operatives. But the operation was significant enough to them, and growing up on Nar Shaddaa had a particular way of bonding people.

Suni was the only one who fired while they ran, as the diminutive epicanthix was an excellent shot. It seemed as if the man's stature would leave him often underestimated, but all it took was a moment of eye contact before he set your spine a chill. He was the one Yatik most feared crossing.

The last was Kip, a young, strong, heavily tattoed Kathar. Of them all, Kip had had it worst. He was born in Nar Shaddaa's darkest wards, and rarely did any more have to be said.

Young. Another numb, sad thought.

The oldest, their leader, Marx, whose life they were loyally defending, was twenty-five.

Nar Shaddaa had a way of burning through a soul, aging it. The Twi'lek woman disappeared around a corner, and all of the men followed, except Boar. He took another angle with purpose, and Yatik knew the other man intended to head her off.

That was the other thing about Boar. He was smart.

A wild, desperate spray of blaster bolts compelled Yatik to calmly settle behind a crate. Kip and Marx dodged with more haste, while Suni began to open fire. The others followed suit, and soon the alley glowed with blaster shots.

But Marx raised his hand, and each man's fire stopped, except Suni's, which only slowed.

"No use wastin' clips. She in't goin' anywh'r."

Sure enough, Boar's massive silhouette appeared at the other end of the alley, on the other side of the girl.

Fast. Boar was also fast.

He closed quickly, reach spanning the entire alley. There was no slipping past Boar. He would grab her from behind, and at that moment, Yatik would slip next to him to cover the gap, in case she tried to slip around. Suni would have his blaster locked on her skull and Kip would be watching for any sign of ambush.

And Marx would be grinning malevolently. There was a reason he was the leader; he had the charisma.