Post by Val - Warning:Contains Sarcasm on Sept 10, 2009 23:02:19 GMT -5
Character Name: Uniform
Character Source: SWU
Character Faction/Alignment: Self Interests
Type of Roleplay: Any
Roleplay Requirements: Mentor's choice
Reason for Request: An improvement from mediocre.
Notes: Uniform is an ex-Green Meadows assassin who specialises in dual slugthrowers and driving. I'd like the RP to take place not long after her break from the company during which time she's on the run.
swrponline2.proboards.com/index.cgi?board=frinaccept&action=display&thread=5524
Doesn't require an immediate response. Any mentors can feel free to post here or PM me about details if necessary.
Roleplay:
Her headquarters was a tunnel.
It was just past midnight, clouds barring the passage of the moonlight, shrouding the city in a blanket of darkness, where external lights failed them. No stars, no moon, even some high altitude vehicles obscured by the low hanging cloud. The city beneath the haze had its own light source, of course, though even some, or most, of its buildings were too high to not suffer from being cut in half by the membrane between the inside and the outside. The buildings led down to the streets with few people walking around at this time of night, but the lanes of traffic were full, as could be expected from any type of urban area at night. Below the buildings, though, lay the tunnel systems which drained away water from the streets into the rivers. In the pitch black lay the rodents and animals of the city which do not serve any particular use to the above societies. No use other than a parasite on their life. Deeper within the tunnel, far beyond the point any natural or artificial light permeated the air, a metallic object rested against the stone floor. It shook a little, the body inside twisting to try and force herself into warmth.
It wasn't like this the previous night. It was getting colder, clearly. She rolled over, the leather of the back seat making noises at every movement of her body. The makeshift pillow beneath her head, usually an overshirt, lay just over her arm. Little in the way of any kind of comfort, and she was just about at the point of giving up and laying awake. She shivered, her mind abuzz with the thought in her mind about how this animal-infested construct had somehow became the typical place for her to return to on a daily basis. A headquarters. It was almost depressing. Her head shifted to the other side, turning to face the left, eyes open and ears listening to the sounds of dozens of feet scratching against the ground as they moved throughout the area. It was almost enough to tempt her into using her guns to kill them, if she didn't have a problem with ammunition at the moment. 23 rounds, because she hadn't had the foresight to stock up nor reload. She felt like such a rookie. Depression. A little twinge went off at the back of her mind. It was an interesting one.
Moaning in a whispered tone, her head lifted wearily from the pillow and rested against the back of the seat, staring into the blackness of the ceiling above. She could hear water dripping around her, clearly her base of operations had a leak. Her hands groped for the overshirt, picking until she felt the hole and pulling it over, feeling a wave of warmness collapse over her chest. Her guns rested on the seat next to her now, previously under her stomach. They were safe there at night, and close. It made her feel safe having them there. In the non-existent light she could pick out the shapes of each, taking them up and stroking her fingertips along the barrels. It would be a long night before morning, and then she'd need to return to her primary goal at the moment. She needed a form of interstellar transport in order to leave. Get away from her past - both what she could remember and what she couldn't, and go somewhere else. One primary goal, one objective.
Escape Mustafar.
Character Source: SWU
Character Faction/Alignment: Self Interests
Type of Roleplay: Any
Roleplay Requirements: Mentor's choice
Reason for Request: An improvement from mediocre.
Notes: Uniform is an ex-Green Meadows assassin who specialises in dual slugthrowers and driving. I'd like the RP to take place not long after her break from the company during which time she's on the run.
swrponline2.proboards.com/index.cgi?board=frinaccept&action=display&thread=5524
Doesn't require an immediate response. Any mentors can feel free to post here or PM me about details if necessary.
Roleplay:
Her headquarters was a tunnel.
It was just past midnight, clouds barring the passage of the moonlight, shrouding the city in a blanket of darkness, where external lights failed them. No stars, no moon, even some high altitude vehicles obscured by the low hanging cloud. The city beneath the haze had its own light source, of course, though even some, or most, of its buildings were too high to not suffer from being cut in half by the membrane between the inside and the outside. The buildings led down to the streets with few people walking around at this time of night, but the lanes of traffic were full, as could be expected from any type of urban area at night. Below the buildings, though, lay the tunnel systems which drained away water from the streets into the rivers. In the pitch black lay the rodents and animals of the city which do not serve any particular use to the above societies. No use other than a parasite on their life. Deeper within the tunnel, far beyond the point any natural or artificial light permeated the air, a metallic object rested against the stone floor. It shook a little, the body inside twisting to try and force herself into warmth.
It wasn't like this the previous night. It was getting colder, clearly. She rolled over, the leather of the back seat making noises at every movement of her body. The makeshift pillow beneath her head, usually an overshirt, lay just over her arm. Little in the way of any kind of comfort, and she was just about at the point of giving up and laying awake. She shivered, her mind abuzz with the thought in her mind about how this animal-infested construct had somehow became the typical place for her to return to on a daily basis. A headquarters. It was almost depressing. Her head shifted to the other side, turning to face the left, eyes open and ears listening to the sounds of dozens of feet scratching against the ground as they moved throughout the area. It was almost enough to tempt her into using her guns to kill them, if she didn't have a problem with ammunition at the moment. 23 rounds, because she hadn't had the foresight to stock up nor reload. She felt like such a rookie. Depression. A little twinge went off at the back of her mind. It was an interesting one.
Moaning in a whispered tone, her head lifted wearily from the pillow and rested against the back of the seat, staring into the blackness of the ceiling above. She could hear water dripping around her, clearly her base of operations had a leak. Her hands groped for the overshirt, picking until she felt the hole and pulling it over, feeling a wave of warmness collapse over her chest. Her guns rested on the seat next to her now, previously under her stomach. They were safe there at night, and close. It made her feel safe having them there. In the non-existent light she could pick out the shapes of each, taking them up and stroking her fingertips along the barrels. It would be a long night before morning, and then she'd need to return to her primary goal at the moment. She needed a form of interstellar transport in order to leave. Get away from her past - both what she could remember and what she couldn't, and go somewhere else. One primary goal, one objective.
Escape Mustafar.