|
|
|
last online Apr 19, 2013 18:45:53 GMT -5
Master
|
|
|
Sept 17, 2012 15:21:38 GMT -5
Post by Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy on Sept 17, 2012 15:21:38 GMT -5
Ervisa was cognizant of the fact she was scooped up by strong arms and carried, a reality which caused a quick spurt of coughing, but she wasn't exactly capable of doing anything.
Time sort of blurred together as she bounced slightly with each step by Horst, the pain stabbing in her chest every time. She lapsed into a state of semi-consciousness, reaching out with Force techniques to stifle the pain.
When it seemed as if it would never stop, they came to a halt. Horst set Ervisa down in tall grass, which felt comfortable and soft beneath her, and started up a smoke signal. Ervisa's thoughts were elsewhere however.
There was a growl, and the sound of animals moving in the brush. Ervisa could sense them through her pain, maybe five of them. Perhaps six. Undoubtedly predators.
And she was helpless to do anything. But that didn't mean she was going to give up.
There was a fallen log a few feet away, and Ervisa began the laborious task of crawling towards it...
|
|
|
|
|
Fromikeable
Keeper Of The Techxts
1,616 posts
628 likes
...and I'm comin'! *guitar riff*
|
|
last online Nov 20, 2024 17:01:54 GMT -5
Moderator
|
|
|
Sept 17, 2012 20:01:09 GMT -5
Post by Fromikeable on Sept 17, 2012 20:01:09 GMT -5
Horst stood still, knees bent, knife weakly held in his broken hand, the gun held firm in the other. He hoped the weapon packed a punch; it'd be about as useful as a rock otherwise.
The moving patches of grass were multiplying, and as they stalked about and hissed and growled, Horst tried to count them. Their movement made it difficult, but he was pretty sure he counted six of these things.
An entire pack. Horst couldn't think of anything he'd done to provoke the aggression. Maybe these creatures didn't like the smoke. Perhaps Horst had inadvertently stumbled into their territory. But even then they wouldn't be so confrontational. Not if Horst and Ervisa were only on the border.
Horst must have wandered way into their territory.
The patches of rustling grass were inching closer, sweeping back and forth diagonally. One seemed particularly confident, out considerably further than the rest, who seemed to hang back, almost as if waiting, observing.
They're testing me. The closest bunch of grass moved quickly, almost beelining.
Horst checked the pistol; it was ready to go. Holding it at the ready, Horst held it with his good hand, not trusting his cast to be steady nor wanting to put his broken hand in harm's way.
Suddenly, the creature burst from the grass, being a blue blur. It knocked Horst to the side, aiming for his chest but knocking into his good shoulder instead thanks to a quick shuffle on his part. Regaining his balance, Horst looks over before the creature darts away in preparation to try again.
It was a glow wolf. It's hairless skin was a deep navy, with bio-luminescence visible all across its body. It's back reminded Horst of a lizard's fray, minus the light diodes of course, and its claws looked long and sharp enough to rip through steel.
And there were six of them. Perfect.
The lead wolf darted back into the grass, growling loudly. Horst tightened his good hand on the gun... only to discover it was missing. He tilted his head to the side; there it was on the ground a few meters away. The creature must have knocked it out of his hand.
Grabbing the knife with his good hand, Horst cursed silently as he waited. It would be suicide to leap at this thing, since Horst figured it was probably way faster and more agile than he. Beyond that, if he attacked, the rest of the pack might get involved.
The growl hit a low pitch, gurgling slightly...
Again, the wolf came sprinting out of the grass, this time slightly more to the left. Horst was ready this time and brought up his cast, twisting his body and preparing the knife with his good arm. He spun out then, whacking the creature to the side while it was still in the air. Yelping quietly with the pain of using his broken hand as a club, Horst wasted no time jumping after it, pinning the creature on its side. It thrashed and snapped its jaw and roared as Horst brought the knife down with a heave, driving the metal into its chest. The struggling slowly died as Horst continued to pin the creature, not letting go.
Finally, all movement ceased, and Horst stood up. A large smear of blood covered his face, and his cast seemed to have ripped open slightly on one of the wolf's teeth. He disregarded both, jerking his head in the direction of the rest of the pack.
They were moving, sprinting across the clearing. But they weren't retreating.
They're attacking! Horst looked over at Ervisa; she was moving, slowly crawling toward a log.
And it seemed that he wasn't the only one who noticed.
Sprinting toward Ervisa, Horst scooped up the gun and fired a multitude of shots. A few hit, pegging two of the wolves as either dead or wounded. Reaching the ex-Jedi, Horst took a second to actually aim, and squeezed off about 5 more shots before the wolves were upon them. Two more fell.
The sixth one, however, was upon them.
Horst tossed the gun to the ground and yelled madly, letting out a grunt of pure instinct.
"HAH!!!!" Arms out-stretched, Horst leaped at glow wolf, it recoiling in surprise. Attackers tended not to be the attacked, and so the creature was in a moment of shock. Horst managed to grab it around the neck before it began thrashing, slashing and squirming in all directions as it let out roar after growl after roar, trying to escape and fight back.
Horst simply hung on, waiting for an opportunity to finish it.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
last online Apr 19, 2013 18:45:53 GMT -5
Master
|
|
|
Sept 17, 2012 20:35:40 GMT -5
Post by Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy on Sept 17, 2012 20:35:40 GMT -5
Ervisa reached the log and turned herself around so her back was resting on it, propped up to remain upright despite the pain of motion. Of course by the time she reached it, Horst was just shooting the second to last predator.
And then he did something that made her seem far less crazy in comparison. He bear-hugged the glow wolf and wrestled with it in what she saw through the daze of pain as a clear act of suicide.
Stupidity or not, she realized she had to do something. One hand snaked down to her belt and pulled out her lightsaber, igniting it. The other hand reached up as she called upon the Force.
Telekinetically, she yanked apart the two with all the strength she could command, and then with all her willpower she pulled back her arm and swung it forward, sending her lightsaber flying in a tumbling arc that caught the glow wolf in the torso.
It whimpered and scampered off with a mortal wound, trying to die in some lonely place out of sight. The lightsaber hit the ground and deactivated.
With her rescue done, Ervisa flopped back against the tree trunk and passed out from pain and exhaustion.
|
|
|
|
|
Fromikeable
Keeper Of The Techxts
1,616 posts
628 likes
...and I'm comin'! *guitar riff*
|
|
last online Nov 20, 2024 17:01:54 GMT -5
Moderator
|
|
|
Sept 17, 2012 21:47:12 GMT -5
Post by Fromikeable on Sept 17, 2012 21:47:12 GMT -5
The glow wolf snarled as it turned its head to the side, ready to bite Horst in the shoulder. The Engineer cursed himself audibly, noting his own stupidity and his awful memory for not keeping his knife handy. He had tossed it aside with the gun in a fool-hearty move that was about to get him killed.
Suddenly, something tugged at Horst, propelling him through the air strongly before he landed a good meter away. Getting up with a heave, Horst got his head above the grass just soon enough to see the glow wolf glow with the light of a lightsaber as it was sliced across the abdomen.
It fell, and the flying weapon returned to the log.
What in the... Horst stood up, dusting himself off and checking for wounds. What had just happened? One minute he's close enough to that wolf for them to be classified as a murderous couple, and the next they're both flying in the air, one landing in grass, the other getting gutted.
And I was wondering why I didn't like Jedi before Geog. Nothing was ever simple with those bastards.
Still, Ervisa had just saved his life (probably. Horst considered that if he'd managed to get in the right position, he could have won, but that wasn't important at the moment), and that prompted Horst to walk over and say, "Thanks."
If only she had heard him, because she was out cold.
Horst grabbed the pistol and checked the magazine; there were 3 shots left. He put it between his waist and belt again before searching around for his knife, which had lodged itself in the log a few feet from Ervisa. Pulling it out, Horst wiped it clean of any blood and restored it to the sheathe he kept on the side of his boot, checking his laces.
Aside from a few more cuts and bruises, he had actually managed to do pretty well.
Still, if Horst hadn't been tired before, he was exhausted now. Crashing to the ground next to Ervisa, Horst looked at her again. He was genuinely concerned this time, smacking her cheek lightly again. She was out, but in the mere seconds she had been able to think straight, she'd dispatched a deadly predator with her mind. Horst shuddered a little at the thought.
Jedi were no demi-gods, but they were powerful. Horst was just glad to say he knew one that liked him.
Well, "like" is a weird word to use. It had been a long day with Ervisa, and in the course of it, she'd come onto him, confided in him, raged at him, and flirted with him. What was he supposed to make out of all that?
Horst just shook his head to no one, watching the smoke rise from the signal. He had no idea what to think of Ervisa, and probably wouldn't for a while.
She's a strange one. Then again, so was Horst.
He waited next to his unconscious companion, wondering just where in the nine Corellian hells that rescue chopper was. He got up and inspected the wolf carcasses, wondering just how many had died. There was the first one dead of stabbing, two dead of being shot. When Horst went over to see if the one Ervisa had sliced had lived, he noticed something metal on the ground.
Lightsaber. Horst stared at it. It had been one of these things that had killed Geog. What the heck was it anyway? He resisted the urge to kick it away, knowing Ervisa would be mad if he did. It was just so alien to him, though. So... unnatural.
Picking it up carefully with his good hand, Horst felt it, noting that one end had an opening, and the other didn't. A few knobs were present, as well as a button. Flipping the saber over so that the open-end faced the sky, Horst pressed the button, nearly dropping the weapon as a beam of light protruded with a strange sound.
Horst wasn't sure what to think of this lightsaber any more. He turned it in his hand slightly, hearing the beam make another odd sound as it shifted. It was incredibly light; Horst had been pegging it to at least be as heavy as a sword handle, and yet it was light as a feather. How could anyone fight with the thing?
Weird. Odd. I don't like it. Horst pressed the button again, retracting the beam with a hiss and a small whiff of smoke. He'd take his repeater and revolver any day of the week. Besides, he had history with these things, and he wasn't quite ready to forgive them yet.
Just then the roar of rotors sounded over-head, and Horst immediately stashed the saber in his pocket. A chopper, not too unlike the one Ervisa and he had crashed in, circled around the smoke for a minute. Horst stood up and ran out a short distance, waving his arms. The pilot spotted him and waved back, setting down to land. Horst jogged back over to Ervisa, still unconscious, and picked her up, gently as he could, just like before.
The chopper landed, and the rotors made a mess of the red smoke, sending it everywhere. The pilot was in the troop-compartment, waving Horst over frantically. Horst made his way over, placing Ervisa on the floor of the compartment. He then heaved himself up, which took a minute as he tried not to use his broken hand. The pilot looked at him and the downed Mirialan with raised eyebrows.
"The heck have you two been doing out here, bub?" The pilot pointed at Horst's face, which was still smeared with glow wolf blood.
"We need to at the Waypoint medical center NOW." Horst's voice was commanding and left zero percent room for debate. The pilot jumped slightly, not expecting such forwardness. He then ducked back into the cockpit, handing Horst a pair of headphones. Horst put them on and picked up Ervisa again. The chopper began to rise, and Horst looked around for a place to lay her down. The bench? She'd slide off. The floor? Same thing.
Should've closed tha' compartment doors. Horst sat down on the bench at its end, laying Ervisa's lower body and lower torso on the metal. Her shoulders and head, however, lay on the Engineer's lap, and as the chopper rose above the tree line, Horst resumed slapping Ervisa lightly on the cheeks and shaking her head slowly, trying to get her to wake up.
Horst frowned, worried. She's in bad shape. The chopper pitched, and they were off. Horst activated his mic and uttered a short phrase to the pilot.
"And step on it." The chopper pitched forward a little more, but Horst was too preoccupied to grin at his imposing.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
last online Apr 19, 2013 18:45:53 GMT -5
Master
|
|
|
Sept 17, 2012 22:32:42 GMT -5
Post by Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy on Sept 17, 2012 22:32:42 GMT -5
Throughout the helicopter ride, Ervisa could vaguely feel her cheeks being slapped, and in a few more lucid moments she'd flail her arms trying to get that to stop. By the end of the flight however, she was truly and deeply out of it, passed out cold.
Her skin was a dark green color quite unlike her normal emerald sheen, proof not enough oxygen was reaching her body. She was limp, she was cold, and she was barely breathing.
Upon arrival she was placed immediately onto a stretcher, with an oxygen mask over her face, and taken into surgery. Her lung was repaired, the fractured rib was put back into place, and she was treated for shock.
The Mirialan ex-Jedi herself remained completely unaware of what was transpiring, and was instead deeply immersed in her own mind, dreaming deep in what was almost like a vision.
The past, the present, and the future were all mingling for her in one surreal experience...
"Master..."
A smiling blue face appeared as Ervisa lay on a soft bed. It was attached to a youthful Twi'lek she knew well, but hadn't seen in long years. It was for a very simple reason, he'd died. He'd been killed, murdered, and she'd mourned him. She'd never stopped mourning, had never grown past it.
Seeing him again, her breath was taken away and a giddy exhilaration took her.
"Bola!"
Ervisa didn't ask how he was alive, or why, but merely revelled in the fact he was still alive. The closest thing she'd ever had to a son...
"Yes Master. We were worried you might not remember..."
A snowy-haired man came into view, and for a split-second she thought it was Asyr. But no, it was someone she'd known long before, one she recognized by a goatee and serious expression.
"Master Yarni!"
Ervisa glanced down and saw she was clad in Jedi robes, fully dressed, and lying in the old room she'd had in the Jedi Temple. So all this was a dream? Bola's death, leaving the Order, addiction, depression, despair?
Could it be?
She knew what she'd seen. Bola was dead, she'd held his body in her arms...
"Am I dead?" She asked.
Bola shook his head no.
"No, you're not dead Master."
Ervisa stared at him, realizing that if she wasn't dead, there was only one explanation.
"I'm dreaming..."
"It is a good dream then."
All too soon it started to fade. The sunlight streaming in through the window's slats grew dark, and blackness filled the room. Yarni faded, and then Bola vanished away, leaving everything void and empty. She felt cold, she felt afraid.
Ervisa's eyes opened and she bolted upright, heart beating quickly. What had just happened? She remembered what had just happened so vividly. Bola's face, his voice. Yarni's stern visage before her eyes... It was so real...
The Mirialan woman sank back down onto the bed, pained and fatigued by her rise, and wounded by the fact her dream had been nothing more, and that the daylight of reality had spoiled what she longed for.
The world was back. Another day of struggling. Another day to look back on her past failures, to see where she'd lost her way, to look back and see her time in prison, her time on the streets.
To feel lonely, to feel the need for spice in her body, to feel the need for the bliss of alcohol. To feel the need for the ecstasy of sex. So many physical sensations, but she would have traded all of that to be back on Felucia seven years ago with a lightsaber in her hand, with more knowledge, with more skills. To change the past.
In the course of seven years she'd fallen from one of the Guardians of the Republic to a common street wh0re. She'd been the peak of virtue, virginal and pure, and now she was polluting her body with tabac, and alcohol, yielding to the sexual cravings she felt inside.
Out of control, with nowhere to go, without a destiny of her own. Lost.
She could never go home.
Ervisa pulled her tattooed hands to her face and started to cry.
|
|
|
|
|
Fromikeable
Keeper Of The Techxts
1,616 posts
628 likes
...and I'm comin'! *guitar riff*
|
|
last online Nov 20, 2024 17:01:54 GMT -5
Moderator
|
|
|
Sept 18, 2012 15:14:00 GMT -5
Post by Fromikeable on Sept 18, 2012 15:14:00 GMT -5
Horst had carried Ervisa into the facility in his own two arms, stiff and tired they might have been, until a duo of nurses convinced him to put down the broken vessel of Ervisa on a stretcher. He'd put her down gently and ran alongside the nurses, half-asking, half-demanding to know how she was. The doctor had tried to stop him from entering the operating room.
Emphasis on "try".
He yielded, however, when the nurses told him that they needed as much space as they could get. Shifting from determined hardheadedness to concerned yielding, Horst retreated slowly to the observation room, never peeling his eyes away from Ervisa's limp, dark-green body.
Horst had watched the entire surgery with a hard look, wishing he had known more about basic anatomy and medicine. He wanted to run in and help, not just sit there watching others fix his mistakes.
My mistakes. My weaknesses. He'd been too weak and unprepared today to stop that bull and keep Ervisa from agitating her rib. He'd been too weak and too slow to stop that sixth glow wolf to the degree where Ervisa had had to save him a second time. He'd been too stupid and too weak to keep her body protected and keep her from getting any worse.
It was his fault. All of it.
For a second, Horst was tempted to punch something again. Fortunately, he looked down at his cast, remembering how it had gone last time.
A nurse came over to the ex-smuggler as soon as Ervisa was out of the operating room and offered to fix his cast. Horst refused to let her even touch it. He chastised her then, demanding to know why she was there worrying about him when the Mirialan woman just entering post-op was more important. When she tried to explain how Ervisa would be fine, Horst left.
The doctor refused to let Horst see the Mirialan for a full hour, claiming he needed to simmer down and she needed to rest. Horst eyed him before yielding again, letting the doctor sigh in relief.
Nearby, the security guards likewise relaxed.
For an hour, Horst sat outside the door to post-op, trying not think too much. It had been a good 36-or-so hours since he had last slept, and as he sat, he nodded off, too exhausted with worry to stay awake.
Another nurse tapped on his shoulder when the hour was up, waking him. As Horst asked if something was wrong, she smiled gently and responded that he could see his friend now.
He practically sprinted to Ervisa's room, where he found her unconscious still. She seemed to let out a soft groan or mumble every now and then, and Horst sat next to her bed, concerned, trying to decipher what each mumbling meant.
He fluffed her pillow. He adjusted her blankets. He shifted her bedside table. He lowered the blinds. He even tinkered with the room's vidscreen when he thought it was was too unresponsive to the remote. Finally a nurse came in to check on Ervisa and told him to get some relax. "You look like you haven't slept in days. She'll be fine."
Horst sat down and stared at Ervisa. He had to make things better for her now, at least. He'd made life hell for her in the past two days now, and he wanted to try and shift the tides. He didn't care that she was an ex-Jedi. He didn't care that she was an ex-addict or an ex-prostitute or an ex-convict.
All he cared about was seeing her breathe under her own power.
But as Horst's mind raced, his body calmed, and soon dreariness threatened to overtake him. He fought it, nodding off slowly.
And just like that, he was out cold, sleeping. He didn't even hear Ervisa wake up, snoring softly.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
last online Apr 19, 2013 18:45:53 GMT -5
Master
|
|
|
Sept 18, 2012 17:58:54 GMT -5
Post by Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy on Sept 18, 2012 17:58:54 GMT -5
When Ervisa finally gained control of her breathing and stilled her tears, she became aware of two things. The first was that her chest pain was subsided and her breathing was proper again. That was a blessing. The second was that she was wearing one of those damned paper gowns hospitals were so fond of.
Swiftly she became aware of a third thing. Horst was snoring in a chair.
How long had she been out?
Not long enough... Ervisa thought as she recalled the sweet dream again.
The Mirialan woman closed her eyes and worked hard to regain composure. It wasn't like she had any choice but to live. She'd been through so much already that it was too late to just give up. She had to continue, she had to keep living. She had to move on and face life one day at a time.
No planning, no worrying. Live in the moment. Nothing else.
Ervisa opened her eyes and looked down at her skin. Emerald green once more. She explored her side with her hand, finding it was still sore, but much better than before. Somehow she'd managed to avoid a needle in her arm and those sensor readouts on her body. There was no annoying beeping machine.
Apparently the Waypoint hospital was less than cutting edge, which wasn't to her surprise.
What was nice was a monitor hooked up to visual channels hanging on the opposite wall, and a clicker on a table halfway across the room. Luckily there were a few perks to being a Jedi.
A green hand reached out, and the remote darted straight to her hand, summoned by the Force. Promptly she turned on the channel and took a look at the programming.
"Tonight on Keeping Up With the Calrissians!"
Ervisa changed the channel.
"New on Corellian Idol!"
A Twi'lek man holding a microphone started to sing boisterously, a popular ballad with instrumental backing. He sounded something like a dying rancor with a debilitating speech impediment.
A Rodian judge applauded, and a Mon Calamari looked at him with what might have been a very fishy variety of disgust. In a gravelly voice he spoke up.
"That may possibly have been the worst performance I've ever heard on this show. You sound like a Gammorrean who swallowed a brick."
A Twi'lek woman leaned forward to her microphone and spoke.
"I think you were wonderful."
The Mon Cal grumbled. "No one cares what you think Pala."
Outside the screen, Ervisa debated changing the channel, but instead decided to keep watching. The real issue was that she had no cigarette.
|
|
|
|
|
Fromikeable
Keeper Of The Techxts
1,616 posts
628 likes
...and I'm comin'! *guitar riff*
|
|
last online Nov 20, 2024 17:01:54 GMT -5
Moderator
|
|
|
Sept 18, 2012 21:14:45 GMT -5
Post by Fromikeable on Sept 18, 2012 21:14:45 GMT -5
Horst's mind remained clear and fazed as he slept. He was far too tired to dream. As he grew more and more rested, however, his subconscious began to mull over the events it had experienced, and pretty soon Horst was dreaming in a haze.
He was running... no, walking... striding? It was hard to tell. He was walking on nothing particular, and come to think of it, there was nothing in particular in existence.
Just him. Walking-striding-running.
Suddenly, there was something. A plant. It was green. But wait, why did it have that white thing in the middle? No, that was a shirt. So it was a person. A green person. Yes, a green person. Horst got closer, still run-stride-walking. It had long black hair. A woman, he thought. Yes it was a she.
Suddenly, she opened her mouth, and started singing. Terribly.
"Huh?!" Horst woke with a start, jolting his head up. Why had Ervisa been singing? And why was she so bad at it?!
But no, it had been the TV. As Horst rubbed his eyes, which were now sore with a rude awakening. He looked around; he was sitting next to Ervisa's hospital bed, where he'd dozed off. The room was full of florescent light, as the blinds had never been reopened. There was a surprising lack of beeping and machinery pumping. Then again, this place wasn't exactly a Coruscant hospital.
Horst finally noticed Ervisa, who was apparently channel-surfing. She looked noticeably better; her skin had reverted to its emerald coloring, looking far healthier. Her breathing was easier, and she even looked comfortable.
It was enough to make Horst sigh in relief rather audibly, relaxing as his worries melted. She had made it, and he had managed not to make anything worse. That in and of itself was a personal victory, and it made Horst smile warmly. For once, he was truly happy just to be alive, sitting there with someone he thought might not be as well.
"How ya' feelin'?" His voice was unusually relaxed, almost like he was talking to someone at the end of a long day.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
last online Apr 19, 2013 18:45:53 GMT -5
Master
|
|
|
Sept 19, 2012 14:46:23 GMT -5
Post by Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy on Sept 19, 2012 14:46:23 GMT -5
Horst woke up while Ervisa was watching Corellian Idol, and she looked at him with a nod of acknowledgement before looking back at the display. For a few long seconds she stared and avoided the question he asked, aware that she didn't like the answer.
It was yes, and it was no. Physically she could feel much better, but mentally she was still a mess, and to make things worse she was an unhappy mess. Give her spice or a bottle of rum and she'd have a grand old time, happy as a clam right up until the effects wore off. Put her in bed with a stranger and she'd relish it. Those were her usual mental faults.
This feeling, this bad and awkward feeling, was not pleasant. It gnawed at her, and the only way to escape it was finding something else to do. In this case, it was immersing herself in the holonet.
"OK," She finally answered quickly before promptly changing the subject.
"I always liked Coruscant's Got Talent better."
In actuality she had little opinion, since she rarely saw any holonet programming. It was far from normal for her, when her usual pastimes were... Different.
"There was a Quarren on last season who could play pola tunes on a double viol, while dancing. Sadly he had a voice like a drunken bantha."
Ervisa paused her commentary and sighed deeply.
"I'd kill someone for a cigarette right now, I'll trade you sex for a pack and a lighter..."
|
|
|
|
|
Fromikeable
Keeper Of The Techxts
1,616 posts
628 likes
...and I'm comin'! *guitar riff*
|
|
last online Nov 20, 2024 17:01:54 GMT -5
Moderator
|
|
|
Sept 19, 2012 16:00:14 GMT -5
Post by Fromikeable on Sept 19, 2012 16:00:14 GMT -5
Horst smiled a little more as he heard the words he had sought desperately for the last 3 or 4 hours.
"OK."
Sitting back in his chair, Horst closed his eyes and sighed with contentment, listening to Ervisa explain how someone on the last season of whatever they were watching had been great at some instrument Horst had never heard of, but had been just as bad as the voice that had woken him. He listened, but was merrily enjoying his relief at the same time.
And yet, part of him knew that something was still off. He'd spent enough time with Ervisa now to know that she had more than physical wounds. When she made a statement about trading sex for a pack of smokes, Horst's smiled dampened.
He sighed again.
"Ya' know, people can like you for more than just your body." Horst opened his eyes, looking Ervisa straight in the face. His tone was solid like it had been with the pilot, assertive, and yet it remained soft, almost supportive.
For a second, Horst was quiet, trying to think of something to say to help his previous statement. He liked Ervisa. He did. He could say it with certainty now. After being through hell and high water together, he at least considered her a person, which was leagues better than what he would have labeled her a week ago. Surely he could say something like that?
"Like me. I like you." The phrase wasn't nervous or in any way suggestive. Horst was just stating fact, and the tone said the same. He liked her as a person. She was gritty and fierce and interesting. He liked her for those reasons, and for nothing more.
Although, all things considered, she was attractive.
He was still tired, though, and he had never been much of an orator to begin with. Beyond that, he hadn't known Ervisa long enough to start talking about her; what he'd said was about the deepest he could go at the moment.
So he sat there. Watching Ervisa's face. Hoping she wouldn't slap him for being honest.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
last online Apr 19, 2013 18:45:53 GMT -5
Master
|
|
|
Sept 19, 2012 17:31:48 GMT -5
Post by Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy on Sept 19, 2012 17:31:48 GMT -5
Horst sighed and seemed to be lecturing Ervisa about her body. Sure, people liked her for more than her body. Tell that to every man she'd ever met. Then there was Asyr, and despite her thoughts there'd been something there, even he wanted to stay as friends with benefits.
People wanted the Mirialan pilot for her body. Not for her personality, not for her soul. Besides, the former was mostly a lie and the latter was so wounded and agonized that no one would want it.
What she had was a body, and a good one. People wanted it. People wanted her. What did it matter? For a few moments of her day she'd be desired and loved, if only in a physical sense. No loneliness, no depression.
Or she could stick her nose up in the air and have high standards, waiting for some knight in shining armor to scoop her up and take her off to a palace to live as a perfect princess, only to die disappointed after a life of loneliness where she'd never been intimate.
It was better in her estimation to bounce from stranger to stranger and one night stand to one night stand than it was to be lonely for years. She only had so many years left before her beauty faded, before she was no longer desirable.
To be honest, she was hoping she'd be dead by then. Dead or living some picture perfect life, but of the two she knew which was more real.
With that in mind she frowned, almost glowering.
"You don't even know me," Ervisa said bitterly before turning her attention back to the display.
|
|
|
|
|
Fromikeable
Keeper Of The Techxts
1,616 posts
628 likes
...and I'm comin'! *guitar riff*
|
|
last online Nov 20, 2024 17:01:54 GMT -5
Moderator
|
|
|
Sept 19, 2012 17:50:36 GMT -5
Post by Fromikeable on Sept 19, 2012 17:50:36 GMT -5
"No, I don't." Horst nodded, confirming Ervisa's accusation. He said it simply, like it was old news (which it was). He wasn't going to pretend that he could read her like an open book after a day and a half of crisis, fighting, and squalor. Horst hated pretending anyway.
He was a man of simple fact and honesty.
"But from what I do know about you, I like you." Horst leaned forward in his seat, leaning on his elbows which rested on his knees. He continued looking directly at Ervisa, his expression relaxed and plain. When he spoke, it sounded like a casual conversation. Inside, however, he was becoming determined. Ervisa might not like it, but he liked her. And nothing had yet to escape the determined grip of Horst "The Wrecking Wrench" Stellar.
Horst had met a lot of people in his life. Some were emotional, some were of stone-hearts, and others were like Ervisa. Too hurt to feel. Too closed off to care. Too vacant to rightfully give a damn. He'd seen in it in a few people; soldiers who had nothing left, fringe that were dragged through hell everyday, and people with simple ideas making every moment of their existence torture.
Not once had any of them been happy. Not as they were. Horst hoped Ervisa might be different. He'd give up everything down to the shirt on his back to see that emerald face smile warmly, just once.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
last online Apr 19, 2013 18:45:53 GMT -5
Master
|
|
|
Sept 19, 2012 19:50:24 GMT -5
Post by Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy on Sept 19, 2012 19:50:24 GMT -5
"If you knew me better you'd like me less," Ervisa said flatly, quickly working herself into one of her moods of self-loathing.
She managed to avoid a soliloquy about how she'd gone from being a great Jedi Knight to what she was right now, and managed to avoid dragging her spirits down any lower than they already were. But she easily could have gone on a rant about how worthless she felt, fixated on that idea.
It didn't matter if Horst liked her. She didn't even know how she really felt about him.
Further rumination on that point was dropped when an interruption occurred. A uniformed nurse walked in to the room with a datapad in hand and looked over the human and Mirialan. When she spoke it was with a pronounced Agamar accent.
"Doctor says y'all all fixed now, you're gettin' released. We need the bed for a hunting accident. Luckily for y'all them folks in town recruiting paid for your surgery. So, up and at 'em."
The nurse tossed a bag of clothing at Ervisa and the Mirialan woman caught it one-handed, quickly rifling through it to discover that it wasn't what she'd worn in, and was instead a spare pair of scrubs. That made sense as standard practice was to cut off the existing clothing.
The green-skinned woman sighed and swung her legs off the bed, promptly and immodestly shedding the gown and pulling on the scrubs instead, though she was fortunately handed back the boots she'd been wearing, which were no longer caked with mud.
With all her personal effects returned, Ervisa got up and walked to the accent, side twinging slightly with each step, but otherwise relatively pain-free.
As soon as she was outside the room, she looked at Horst.
"Have you called Spearpoint yet to send someone to pick us up?"
|
|
|
|
|
Fromikeable
Keeper Of The Techxts
1,616 posts
628 likes
...and I'm comin'! *guitar riff*
|
|
last online Nov 20, 2024 17:01:54 GMT -5
Moderator
|
|
|
Sept 19, 2012 21:00:55 GMT -5
Post by Fromikeable on Sept 19, 2012 21:00:55 GMT -5
Ervisa dismissed Horst's statement again, saying he was too unfamiliar with her. Horst simply looked at her, denying it. It was in his experience that the more he got to know someone, the more and more he liked them.
The conversation was interrupted when a nurse came in, explaining that Ervisa was good to go and that they needed to clear out ASAP; some guy had gone and gotten himself banged up in a hunting accident. She smiled before tossing Ervisa a bag of clothing. Ervisa caught it and searched it with a sigh. She then promptly got up and began undressing herself.
Horst raised a hand to his eyes, not even peeking this time.
Changed into an extra pair of scrubs and the pair of boots she'd been wearing before, Ervisa exited the room. Getting up with a heave, Horst followed her, his hands in his lanky pockets and a microscopic grin on his face.
Ervisa asked if Horst had taken the time to get a ride home yet. He had far too busy worrying to have taken the time to phone in to base, though, and so with a sigh, he replied, "Nope. Been too tired." In truth, he had been more preoccupied with watching her, but there was some truth to his words. He would have done it had he not fallen asleep in that chair.
The duo exited the facility, winding up on the same street they had both seen the morning prior and the night prior to the morning. In the full-blown sunlight and mid-day traffic of Waypoint, it looked considerably different. Waypoint wasn't a big settlement by any means, but it was still, indeed, a settlement, and its streets were filled with all matter of patrons, practitioners, and even a few pick-pockets.
Horst noticed a comm booth right outside the medical facility. Walking over, he stared at the screen for a minute, trying to remember the commercial number for SPHQ. Luckily there weren't a lot of numbers with the Oataran planet-code, given that there were only so many comms on Oatara, and eventually Horst was on the horn with SPHQ command.
"Commander Stellar! You and Miss... Thhhhhhhrani have been AWOL since last night."
Horst chuckled at the mispronunciation, not bothering to correct it. "I'll give a report to Captain Moreill myself later. For now, we need extraction from Waypoint ASAP."
"Roger that Commander, the chopper is prepping now. ETA 5 hours." With that, the call was over, and Horst was erasing his call from the log.
He looked over at Ervisa, still in her scrubs and boots. The clothing looked artificial and starched, sanitary practically. It was down-right un-Oataran.
"Dispatch says we've got five hours to kill. Wanna' get some real clothes?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
last online Apr 19, 2013 18:45:53 GMT -5
Master
|
|
|
Sept 19, 2012 21:31:50 GMT -5
Post by Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy on Sept 19, 2012 21:31:50 GMT -5
Ervisa leaned against the duracrete wall of the hospital while Horst talked on the comm with Spearpoint, not even trying to listen in on the conversation. Instead she'd fished out a pack of cigarettes and was smoking one gratefully the whole time, savoring the spicy smoke.
It was then a little girl walked up with a stuffed bear and tugged at her sleeve.
"Doctor!" She squeaked. "Mister Fluffy needs help!"
The Mirialan woman crouched down with a patient look.
"What's wrong with Mister Fluffy?" Ervisa asked as she imitated looking for a pulse.
"He's got a HOLE!"
Ervisa reached into her personal effects and pulled out a needle and thread she usually kept just in case, though she was far from an expert seamstress.
"All right, let me just give him some stitches and he'll be as good as new."
Green hands nimbly maneuvered the needle and thread in and out, tying the halves of the hole together with a quick whipstitch. It only took her a few seconds to complete the task, without even pricking her fingers, and then she handed the bear back to the child.
"Play gently with Mister Fluffy while his stitches heal."
"Thanks Doctor!"
The little girl bounced off happily just as a worried-looking woman came down the hospital stairs and reunited with her. Ervisa gave them a quick wave as she returned to her cigarette.
When she was finished, Horst asked if she wanted some real clothes. She nodded and puffed out a cloud of grey smoke.
"Yeah, let's change me before I get mistaken for a Doctor by someone older than twelve."
Ervisa walked along the sidewalk, heading for the outfitter shop she'd come to upon arrival, trusting Horst would be right behind her.
|
|
|
|
|
Fromikeable
Keeper Of The Techxts
1,616 posts
628 likes
...and I'm comin'! *guitar riff*
|
|
last online Nov 20, 2024 17:01:54 GMT -5
Moderator
|
|
|
Sept 19, 2012 21:53:31 GMT -5
Post by Fromikeable on Sept 19, 2012 21:53:31 GMT -5
Horst smiled as he saw Ervisa disproving her own perception, helping a little girl fix her teddy bear. As the "surgery" was completed, the girl scampered off happily, smiling because her bear had been healed by the Doctor.
Ervisa waved to the girl and her apparent guardian before they departed. It was enough to make Horst chuckle warmly.
Evisa was ahead of him, but he walked within hearing distance. Still chuckling, he said loud enough for her to hear, "Guess I was wrong after all. What sort of monster fixes a little girl's teddy bear with a smile?" He didn't know if she had heard him, but to him it didn't matter. To him, at least, she'd just made herself even more likable.
The duo arrived at the outfitters quickly, with Horst resisting the urge to jog ahead and hold the door open. He was afraid that she might take it as a snide insult, and so refrained, allowing her to open the door on her own.
As they entered, the air-conditioning hit Horst like a cool wall, and he exhaled in relief. It was hard to realize how hot Oatara was until things got cooler.
"We're on lent credits here," Horst informed, pulling out his wallet and checking it. A good few thousands credits sat plumply within, waiting to be spent in the best way possible.
On the most expensive clothing the shop had to offer.
"That's another way of saying get whatever looks nice." Horst smiled mischievously. Having a rich friend had its benefits.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
last online Apr 19, 2013 18:45:53 GMT -5
Master
|
|
|
Sept 20, 2012 1:26:18 GMT -5
Post by Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy on Sept 20, 2012 1:26:18 GMT -5
Ervisa ignored the monster comment. She'd never said she was a monster. More like something you stepped in with your shoe and regretted instantly. Not horrifying, just... Not exactly the kind of thing you wanted to pick up off the ground and profess love to, or make a life with.
The Mirialan woman remained stoically silent, instead pausing to drop a cigarette butt onto the ground and resuming on her way, pausing again as soon as she'd entered the store.
She surveyed the interior, which showcased clothing from the practical to the ornate, as well as objects from all around the galaxy brought here for use. Blaster rifles from Eriadu, knives from Ryloth, and everything in between. Only the clothing interested her right now, and a phrase Horst said.
Get whatever looks nice.
"Will do," She said as she grabbed a shopping cart, walking along the floor of the store straight for the ladies section.
Upon arrival she scrutinized the undergarments before grabbing a pair, then in rapid succession obtaining stockings, a little black dress, and a pair of ridiculous heels. Then she looked at Horst and waggled her eyebrows suggestively.
"I'm trying these on."
A few short seconds later she was in the changing room, pulling off the scrubs and pulling on the dress, marveling in the mirror that green and black went really well with each other. And yes, she still had the curves to pull it off.
Secretly she had hopes that this would make Horst stare. Or if not him maybe she could feign having trouble locating an item just to get some male employee to stare.
Yeah, now that was a plan.
Ervisa pulled open the curtain and did her sexiest possible walk out through the archway, pausing before the human man and making a full turn. She was showing off damn it.
|
|
|
|
|
Fromikeable
Keeper Of The Techxts
1,616 posts
628 likes
...and I'm comin'! *guitar riff*
|
|
last online Nov 20, 2024 17:01:54 GMT -5
Moderator
|
|
|
Sept 20, 2012 15:41:53 GMT -5
Post by Fromikeable on Sept 20, 2012 15:41:53 GMT -5
Horst meandered over to the weapons section as Ervisa took off towards the clothing. He browsed, not looking for anything in particular. A Togruta associate came over, bugging him by rattling off the stats and specs of some rifle and then the 34 different ammunition types a pistol could fire. By the time he was listing all of the attachements available for some blaster, Horst decided he had enough and politely asked him to beat it. The guy took it well though, and returned behind the counter of the gun case.
Horst could still see Ervisa as she shopped; the store wasn't that big after all. She was only a few meters away when she dropped a hint.
A BIG hint.
Horst merely rolled his eyes, however. She was hotter than the sun, for sure, but by this point it was getting old. Still, there was that mounting... "pressure" to worry about. Distracting himself, Horst returned his eyes to the gun case.
The Togruta associate seemed far more easily swayed, however. "Who is SHE?"
"Friend of mine." Horst detected a little growl in his voice, almost like he was being territorial. He didn't want to jump her bones (Okay, that was a lie), but at the same time he desperately wanted to know her better. Still, shouldn't the latter come before the former?
"So are you two..." The associate asked seriously, sizing up his chances.
"Nah." Horst lied, not feeling particularly bad about this one. The real answer?
I wish I knew.
Someone emerged from the dressing rooms, and when Horst turned to see who, his eyes widened a bit. There was Ervisa, looking stunning. The dress was form-fitting, accenting her curves and contrasting nicely with her skin. Her heels clicked the floor every time she stepped, and Horst could smell her pheromone-y scent now that the scrubs were off.
He resisted the urge to shudder a little. The associate beat him to the punch, however, whistling suggestively. Horst shot him a deadly glance, which he seemed to ignore, calling out "Hey baby!"
Horst grit his teeth and looked back at the case, angry that he was denying himself again and that this guy didn't have enough self-control to do the same.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
last online Apr 19, 2013 18:45:53 GMT -5
Master
|
|
|
Sept 20, 2012 19:31:38 GMT -5
Post by Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy on Sept 20, 2012 19:31:38 GMT -5
Ervisa quickly noticed Horst rolling his eyes, and she decided it was time to find someone appreciative instead. She was sick of either not getting noticed or getting dismissed out of hand. Luckily there was a Togruta man next to him who was actually interested, and she was mentally running through the list of species she'd been with, and she could safely say his race would be a first.
Ignoring Horst she walked straight up to the associate and turned on the charm.
"Hey yourself," She said with a wink.
She looked to Horst briefly and rattled off her sizes before issuing a command in a tone that made it clear she had certain expectations. "Horsty, please do see that you pick up a few pairs of utility pants and some tank tops. Now if you'll excuse me..."
Ervisa reached out and took the associate by the hand, guiding him off to the back of the store, her heels clicking on the tile floor as she whispered suggestive words. She wasn't exactly shy or subtle about she wanted, but the man wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.
Her hand reached down to his thigh, and his hand rested on her bottom. It was at that moment she turned around slightly and waved to Horst before disappearing into the back room.
In the back, two forms shed their clothes in a locked storage room, and began to embrace and touch each other. Their kisses were passionate, and as their bodies enmeshed the both made low sounds.
Horst was forgotten in favor of hot, anonymous sex with a willing, and very attractive, stranger. In other words, it was just like the old days.
|
|
|
|
|
Fromikeable
Keeper Of The Techxts
1,616 posts
628 likes
...and I'm comin'! *guitar riff*
|
|
last online Nov 20, 2024 17:01:54 GMT -5
Moderator
|
|
|
Sept 20, 2012 21:28:04 GMT -5
Post by Fromikeable on Sept 20, 2012 21:28:04 GMT -5
Horst's deadly glance became a lethal scowl as Ervisa returned that bastard Togruta's attention. She threw her sizes at him, then led the horny, no-good, rat-eating pile of Bantha-
Horst breathed, fuming, watching them go. The guy grabbed Ervisa's ass. She looked back at him, waving.
Horst broke his line of sight as soon as the door closed behind him. His body screamed at him to give in, rip the door off its hinges, punch that guy so hard his grandfather would feel it, and wreck that woman so long and hard that she'd never want to have sex again.
Then there was his annoying mind with its petty standards of "Don't sleep without knowing" and "Friendship is worth more than physicality". Horst simply stared at the gun case again, wondering who he'd shoot first if he loaded one of the weapons; himself, Ervisa, or the Togruta.
Hell, why not all three?
Horst walked over to the clothing wrack, trying to remember Ervisa's stupid clothing sizes. He pushed his hand at the rack, intending to shove aside the out-most clothes and look at the ones deeper in.
That made the resulting crash all the louder, as his good hand knocked forcefully into the rack, which fell backward into the next rack, which fell into the next, until a good four-fifths of the clothing section lay on the floor in unorganized, fallen heaps.
Horst stared at his destruction, growing even madder. Always destroying, never building. That was him, apparently. Ervisa wasn't making it easy, but still, he should be better at this damnit.
Horst huffed. Then he huffed louder. He picked up the nearest solid object and chucked it, creating a smashing sound from the wall. He picked up a piece of paper and pillaged the desk for a pen. He quickly, angrily scribbled down a note. He left then. He didn't know where he was going, and he didn't really care.
Just so long as it was anywhere but there. He left nothing behind him but a demolished store and a note, which read:
Find your own damn clothes.
|
|
|
|