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4 yrs ago
Current I teach my first online lecture today... this shouldn't be too hard right?
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8 yrs ago
Tout ce qui est fait n'est plus à faire
9 yrs ago
"Ash nazg durbatulûk, ash nazg gimbatul, ash nazg thrakatulûk agh burzum-ishi krimpatul."
9 yrs ago
"El amor es como el fuego. Suelen ver el humo los que están fuera antes que las llamas los que están dentro."

Bio

H E 𝕏 A F L E 𝕏 A G O N

Hex | Too old for this shit | Writer of pretentious walls of text

Most Recent Posts

@HeySeuss@vietmyke@Mercenary Lord@Draken@AlexStarsion@Mike73
The glorious or not so glorious once a month posting schedule continues. Things are going to quiet down for a little bit. Give y'all a breather from having to write frantic action for at least a while. But you know what that means character interaction and gasp maybe even plot!




Left!

The truck veered hard as it narrowly avoided another large pine that had materialized out of the darkness. Whatever accoutrements that had not been vacated previously were tossed around haphazardly throughout the interior. Shaking hands smashed the gear shift and prayed to whatever powers existed that the whole rig didn't stall. Somewhere beneath the roar and protest of the engine, the sound of branches snapping in the distance followed as their pressures maintained a close distance.

Setzer peered out into the darkness from his position at the back of the truck. He clutched his sword waiting and watching ready to repel any persistent robots. A roar sounding off in the distance and somewhere to the right of them a cluster of trees exploded. With all the lights turned down, their attackers were forced to go off of audio clues and their accuracy was seeing the worst of it. Not that Setzer was complaining as just one lucky shot from one of those machines was probably enough to blow all of them sky high. Somewhere ahead of him he heard Gideon somewhere ahead of him yell out another direction and felt the entire truck jerk. The Princess was doing surprisingly well at not crashing them yet.

His eyes flickered upward towards the skies. He intently watched a cold and unwelcoming blanket of skies watching, waiting. And then he saw it a slight flicker of bending light that marked the slow pursuit of the cruiser. He watched the slight glow as it began to charge for another bombardment. He turned his head and called back towards the driver’s cabin yelling as he did.

“Oi! The Fireworks are about to start up again.”

Chasing after the vocal conformation the sky flashed with a rapid strobe of hot white. Collette saw the flash in the rearview and a second later the landscape ahead of her began to detonate. It was almost as if night had become midday as the area around them was oversaturated with light. The heat licking at their skin and drawing the moisture from the body. Trees were tossed through the air like pieces of straw, boulders flung about like pebbles, and the earth itself spewed up chunks of molten material. The truck jerked and weaved dodging detonations that nearly toppled the truck just from the resulting shockwave. The smell of burnt earth and fire filled the air.

The explosion having acted like a flare to their pressures continued their own volley in earnest their shots landing much closer to their intended target. For the first time in a long time Setzer wasn’t one hundred percent confident about anything. They were going to die. They were going to die in a shitty fucking truck, in the fucking woods. They were going to die more hungover than drunk. They were going to die and he could do nothing about it. He couldn't swing his sword at a cruiser and even if he could he wasn’t quite sure that it would necessarily do anything.

This manic chase ontinued for what felt like an eternity. Eventually tires bounced from dirt roads to slick asphalt. The woods ended they had no choice but to go back to the highway. The bumping subsiding somewhat as the Truck began to pick up speed. Illumination coming once more from highway lights. It would be it. They could now get an easy shot off at them especially from the ship.

And then something strange happened.

Their pursuers stopped. Mechanical frames halted at the very border of the woods. Raised Cannons were lowered. Eyes flickered from a piercing orange to an unassuming blue. And very slowly they began to disappear back into the darkness. The ship froze in the sky. Another low tone from somewhere within its bowels was sounding that seemed to stretch across the land and vibrate their very bones but it stopped. It flickered and then vanished scattering like a disturbed reflection at the water’s edge.

They drove onward in continued silence still on edge. Setzer could of swore he could hear the heartbeats of his companions pounding waiting for the other shoe to drop. Yet all that was heard was the occasional cry of a wolf somewhere in the distance and the sound of wheels against asphalt. Cautiously the lights of the truck were flicked back on and headlights cut through the darkness. The sounds of the radio left on from before and seemingly forgotten in the chaos began to slowly fill the truck.

Collette’s hands were still shaking. Her heart felt like it was somewhere in her neck and refused to move down. Very gently she pulled her foot of from the gas pulling them from a frantic gallop down to a slow and steady trot. The old engine letting out a low sigh of relief as it did, a few seconds away from overheating itself. She flickered her head towards Gideon who still peered into the darkness ahead of them.

“You know you can loosen up a little bit.” She commented but whatever or wherever the jab was supposed to land somehow fell flat. “But uhh thanks for making I sure I didn’t flip this thing and kill all of us.”

In the back Setzer collapsed finally into a seat. The sword vanishing back into the mist. He breathed deeply wincing slightly as the adrenaline that filled his body slowly began to subside and the pain came rushing in. Nothing was broken from what he could tell maybe some deep bruising and a cracked rib but nothing that the magic of medicine couldn't fix.He peered out the back watching the lonely and desolate landscape roll on by. He tried not to think about those that didn’t make it. That wasn’t conducive to moving forward, to the mission. Yeah guess that was what they were on now, a mission.

He fished around in his pants and pulled out his cell phone that had somehow survived. The screen was cracked and half the buttons seemed permanently pushed in but it still turned on, which was something. The signal was weak but it existed. Though he didn’t even know who they would call, who would they tell. Oh yeah, we have an enemy princess that was here on a diplomatic mission, her shipped crash and then robots tried to kill us. Who would believe them? At best they would take it as WARDEN trying to prolong the war at worst they would take them as rogue agents acting out of line.

A warning light flickered on as the gas began to run out. Sighing Collette followed the signs off of the highway. Still very much in rural Rassvet the town they pulled into could barely be considered a town more of a rather large rest stop. Yet it was what they had going for them. Silently they pulled up to a self-service gas station harshly illuminated by an artificial glow that was disrespectful to the eyes. Somewhere within a small kiosk an employee pulled away from their phone to look at the scorched and banged up truck. A cock of the head and then a shrug as they want back to whatever they were doing. Attached to the station was a ramshackled building whose flickering sign of neon red advertised motel and vacancies. The prospects of sleeping an appealing idea. A key turned, an engine stopped.

Setzer dropped out of the truck and stretched. As he did he looked around at the emptiness that stretched out beyond them. The only sign of life beside them and the employee being the five or so long haul trucks parked in the motel parking lot.

He sighed, tired.

“So what’s the plan?”


S O L D I E R E N C A M P M E N T - Z A L E R A T U N D R A

“Hmmm. Oh. Don’t mention it.”

The steel covering of the foot locker pushed open upon soundless hinge. The wind battered the outside of the tent distorting the wailing calls which it carried. Running a hand through his hair he looked down at the contents of the locker. The large engine head of his staff, a harsh cube carved from a single portion meteoric ore whose contents contained whirring pieces of archaic machinery barely understood outside of Rabanastre; blade and pole hidden within the cube’s confines sealed until deployment. He dropped the piece of metal atop of the cot that had served as his bed for the past week, fabric pooling downwards from the newfound weight.

Quickly stripping down from his abundance of furs and cloth that covered his upper body. The chill of the tundra air a distant afterthought. He brought out a simple garment, long sleeved and black and almost alien to the touch. A moisture absorbing, quick drying, flame retardant and bullet dampening mixture of synthetic compounds and science that Corr didn’t care to look into - the only real piece of ‘military sanctioned’ gear that he owned. It clung tightly to the body like a second pair of skin. Checking to make sure everything was fitted properly he went about the process of redressing himself in his garbs of fur and cloth. They carried a surprising amount of weight to them partly from the sheer density of their entire assemblage and partly due to the thin ceramic plates woven and hidden amongst the strands. The whole process more like donning chainmail than it was a simple jacket or shirt.

As he finished tying the last of the bindings his eyes caught something tucked away at the bottom of the chest. Beneath a pile of loosely assembled papers with various degrees of hastily assembled handwriting, peaking out amongst the pages was a leather bound cover. Despite the gravity of the situation, a small smile crested along the corners of the mouth. Brushing the papers he looked down at the book. A gift from a lifetime ago, something serenely beautiful in its simplicity. A simple tuft of yellow stuck out from within the middle of the text. Cautiously like one disarms a bomb he plucked at the splash of yellow and pulled it from its confines.

Cradled in impossibly large hands was a small pressed flower, golden in hue. Long since dead it still managed to conjure up phantom visions of life. Particular smells and sounds dragged from resting places long buried in the recesses of the mind. A particular smile, a particular laugh.

Caught in his reverie he didn't notice another body enter the tent until a throat was cleared.

“Commander Rhinebeck? The Shyps are waiting.”

A steady hand repositioned the memento and dropped the book back into the foot locker resealing it with a well placed boot heel. He turned a smile breaking across his features as the sirens continued to wail in the background.

“I suppose they are.”

Aboard the Shyp


He sat down as pretty much as far back into the ship as was possible. His eyes flickered across the space searching for fleeting moments of human contact, giving out any last gazes of encouragement. Then easily they fell back to the ground focusing upon the slightly raised hills of the rivets holding the metal plating together.

He exhaled breath snaking out of nostrils in a small plume of white. His face a mask of concentration as he dwell upon the state of affairs. He already didn’t like the mission from the start. It felt the wind before a storm heavy and filled with bad news. And now the added complications only seemed to further spell bad omens to come. A sane man may have protested but Corr was not a sane man he was a brave one. He was there to protect people, he had a job to do and he wouldn't stop until that job was done.

He buckled in the heavy restraints effectively pinning himself to the chair given that such things were not typically designed for such a creature of his stature. Giving the straps an experimental tug which didn’t do much to assure his own worries he pushed his head back against the wall of the craft feeling the metal vibrate as it slowly began to take off from the ground. The quiet rumbling, a low comfortable static to his buzzing aerial slowly fading away into peaceful oblivion.

_______

When his eyes opened his was in a familiar space. An empty expanse of darkness stretching all around and all consuming. Corr didn’t dream per say anymore, nor was he plagued by nightmares. Instead he had whatever this was. He stood alone in the darkness, stark naked and impossibly cold. Somewhere ahead of him impossibly far like the sun upon the horizon was a gargantuan figure sitting atop a throne. The light being cast from it harsh in the surrounding darkness, making it impossible to truly perceive the Giant. The great rumbling cacophony that he had become accustomed to over the years sounded out all around vibrating through his body from head to toe.

Corr gritted his teeth at unwanted sensation. Taking a single step forward he found the ground as it were beneath him sink. The ink like texture grabbing and sticking to flesh. He grunted out of frustration as he ripped the foot upward and took another step towards the glowing figure in the distance. Another step moving forward even as the figure seemed to grow more and more distant. The rumbling still continuing.

His voice rang outward even as his mouth remained close, echoing and amplifying. It filled the space overpowering the rumble, a singular question.

“What do you want?!”

▲̷͞▲̛͞▲̀͏̀͟

The rumbling intensified, the ground shifted and seemed to spin driving Corr down to one knee. The dark ink-like substance that made up the floor sneaking up the flesh of the leg like a tendril. He reached a heavy hand down and grabbed at the black substance ripping it away from his leg and throwing it to the ground as he stood up. He took a single step forward feeling the terrain give even more resistance to his movement, trying to stop him, trying to consume him.

“I . D O . N O T . U N D E R S T A N D . Y O U .”

▲͘͡҉̛͟▲̵̧▲̨̀͜͟͡

He sensed it before it happened something impossibly large driving into his back. He fell plummeting face first towards the ground. Before where it was like a thick molasses now it shattered beneath him like glass. Yet he did not fall, rather it was like the whole floor had flipped with him in a roll forward, his feet never leaving the ground. When he looked up he was now at the feet of the Giant. The human like shaped blurred by the intensity of the heat, skin screaming outward in pain like standing next to burning napalm. His body froze, muscle tightened and he couldn't move. What was that feeling. Fear? Awe? He couldn't quite tell.

The Giant leaned down form it’s thrown bringing up a hand - so big it could cup the world in its palm, down towards Corr. A single finger reaching towards him. His vision filled with the glowing light, blinding him.

When his eyes opened he was no longer at the ‘feet of the Giant’, he was above the canal that he knew they would be crossing soon. It was day and the sky around him was a perfect shadow of boundless blue. And then he was falling, falling, falling. The waters approaching his vision closer and closer. As he neared the surface it exploded upward, a human face being crafted from the rushing waters. It’s jaws opened and swallowing the man. And then there was darkness once more.

T H E C A N A L


Eyes focused upon a simple light fixture. A green ready light casting its quiet emerald glow over the surrounding darkness. Somewhere in his periphery words were being spoken but they were distant like they were underwater. He could feel himself slowly pitching downward. Clarity rushed back to the brain. The words becoming clear.

“Brace-!"

An eternity later the force of the descent lead in one hell of a crash. The restraints mind to hold down smaller individuals flexed, buckled and finally snapped sending Corr smashing into the opposite wall. He managed to pitch his body mid flight in such a way that the broadside of his back took most of the impact. For normal people such a hit probably would of snapped the spine, for most SOLDIERs it might of left a bruise, Corr barely felt it. He body slumped to the floor of the Shyp in an ever increasing pool of frigid water. Making a sound akin to a stricken ox he reached up to find purchase to pull himself up. Hands slipping on now drenched material.

He felt something grab at him and with surprising amounts of strength help yank him to his feet. He stood face to face with Natalya. Nodding his thanks he moved forward. Ahead of him voices swallowed by screaming metal and rushing water he saw some of the others moving towards the crack in the metal which seemed to be their only exit. He moved forward as he watched them disappear into the rushing water. He pushed his way through the water with his greater height it not being as much of an issue as it was for some. He felt the chill pull and gnaw at his skin and bones beneath his clothing. A small crack burst on the wall to the left of him splattering his face. The whole ship groaned in protest as light alloys designed for aerodynamics not for surviving rapids continued to buckle and distort all around them.

Corr raised an arm which began glow harshly illuminating the darkened interior. Casting light about dark thrashing water and the surrounding interior giving those inside something of an easier path to navigate. He beckoned the other forward heavy hands steadying their progress and in some cases out right ferrying them to the exit as the water threatened to swallow their smaller forms in the ever increasing deluge. He did dive nor would he until the others had all gotten out. He was confident enough in his ability to swim. Memories of diving into the rushing rapids in the forests adjacent to the monastery and seeing how quickly he could get out. Memories of having to scrubs the floor for weeks in retribution for the gray hairs he had caused.

Beside it's what he did, protect people. Corr never claimed to be big on the whole self-preservation thing.

"Come on people this shit ain't gonna hold for much longer!"
@Gowi
Guess who did a thing finally. Probably sucks but you know.




Charuri Rol





“Anything is better than indebting ourselves to a Hutt.”

Charuri breathed outward through her nose heavily. The frustration starting to finally begin to outweigh the fear. Naat was right of course. Dealing with a Hutt even one as apparently reputable as Zaarda would only end up bringing them more trouble. Another favor to weigh over their heads, another issue that would end up poking its head up once eventually. But not reaching out for help would be admitting that they were alone, stranded and fucked. That they were going into a Sabacc game down money and against a dealer that was playing for the other side. She slapped her hands hard against her legs in anger throwing the upwards as they walked.

"So then what? Getting on any transport is out of the question, those are going to be scanned of course. That leaves us with stealing a ship? And even if we manged to do that all we do is piss off more people and then you fly your way through the defense fleet that's been sitting up there since the Separatist attack?" Charuri questioned voice still a whisper rising in volume. Eyes constantly flickering away from her companion watching the other denizens walking through the streets. Like most in the under city they seemed preoccupied at the moment. Caught in their own business never minding the prison standing next to them.

A jarring musical chord played. Charuri watched as the projector ahead of her changed from the orange flickering form of a nude Twi'lek beckoning passerby's into a nearby strip club with the well dressed form of a human woman. On the bottom of the screen in scrolling letters the words Breaking News flickering the harsh white glow illuminating Charuri's face. As the woman looked up to face the camera, real time footage of the Jedi Temple still ablaze appeared on the video screen.

"Kalla Tyree with Republic Nightly News coming to you with updates to an ongoing story. In a statement we received from the Chancellor's office in response to the attack on the Jedi Temple. Republic intelligence had uncovered a Jedi plot to assassinate the Chancellor in collaboration with their Separatist allies following the directive of the late traitor Count Dooku. From this point forward any Jedi seen shall be considered traitors to the Republic and wanted criminals with a bounty of Seven million credits upon each head. And in further news a military curfew shall be enforced tonight from...."

Charuri stood in abject horror at the display hands balled into fists. Traitors? Them traitors? After all they had done. After all her friends and allies that had died for them. Traitors? Why? Just why. And then the announcement flickered away and the glow vanished replaced with the flickering orange warmth of the animated stripper. She turned to Naat and then looked around at the eyes now seemingly all suddenly drawn to them, starring at them. Whispering to one another. Pointing.

"There is a dock, three levels down. Let's go." She said grabbing onto her hand and yanking her more forcefully than intend trying to calm the shaking in her hand.

The first time she had entered the Undercity with Feemor she was overwhelmed to say the least. They had gone down as a gesture of good faith towards the Security Force, helping deal with some local hooligans and criminals. That night she moved through the motions like a droid following orders and staying as close to her master as possible. Afraid that if she let go she would be swept away in the current of bodies never to be seen again. In that evening along they deal with two assaults, three stabbing, seven robberies and one drive-by all within short order of one another. An overwhelming deluge of death and suffering unseen since the occasional whispers of it she received back at Zulo's.

It took time and repeat visit for her to grow accustomed to the constant subliminal motion of the dredges. A deranged experiment whose controller had their thumb jammed on the fast forward button. Stop moving catch your breath for a second and you were swallowed up. Go too fast and you draw attention to yourself or worse break the delicate balance and vanish quicker than those that became complacent. The next trophy for some deranged killer or a slave getting packed and shipped away to the outer rim.

She was grateful now to have learned the rhythms and the dance. Now as she moved as prey, harsh neon illuminating pinheads of moisture collecting on her light fur. Painfully aware of the pounding in her chest and the contract and release of her lungs. She turned down another alley some fifty yards out from the dock when she stopped. She felt something, she could tell that Naat felt it as well. She dropped her hand reached down towards her light saber not drawing but ready.

Out from the shadows ahead of them a man with shoulder length auburn hair walked out flanked by three thugs. The clack of feet behind her made her eyes flicker in the other direction where four more thugs walked lead by a calm Rodian in smugglers leathers.

"Now what do we have here." The man spoke in a lazy drawn out drawl.

"Two stinkin Jedi from the looks of it." The Rodian called back in shrill Huttese.

"You're mistaken." Charuri started towards the man even as she whispered under her breath to Naat. "You take care of the guys behind us."

"Ooh I don't think em' mistaken little lady. Cause I see fourteen million credits standing right in front of me. Man could do a lot with that couldn't he?"

"Feed his family. Get a nice ship. And then some." The Rodian responded as they edge closer.

"Listen we have had a really long day and we don't want any trouble." Charuri answered eyes focused on the man watching as his hand rested causally on the heavy blaster on his belt.

"Naw you listen. You two give yourselves up and we bring you into the authorities only slightly used."

"How bout you die in a kriffing hole?"

With that the man draw his blaster and fired the sound being with the snapwhirr and a flash of green as a lightsaber was ignited and sent the blaster shot wide sending a nearby sign into a shower of sparks. One of the man rushed her viborsword drawn and slammed it downward. Charuri parried upward expecting to slice the blade in twine but instead was met with solid resistance as the saber sparked across the cortosis-weave. She knocked the blade away and pushed forward in a strong offense blade and saber sparking against one another as the thug matched her blows with her own. She overextened going to far and the thug broke through her guard and smashed a free elbow into the side of her head sending her backwards.

She heard the shot and reflexively brought he blade up to deflect as the red haired human tried to get a shot off while she was stunned. Her attention was drawn away though as her sword wielding friend came back with a flurry of blows. Charuri switched to the defense block after block. He came down a hard overhand blow and she counter saber rushing upward with a flash of green. Blades locking together. The thug with his greater strength pushed downward trying to bring the saber down atop of her. In an act of desperation Charuri kicked outward with one of her legs making solid contact and hearing the crack of a knee. The thug screamed out as he dropped to the ground as he did Charuri brought her saber down severing his sword hand from his body. As he screamed outward Charuri used the opportunity to channel the force and sent him flinging into one of his allies preparing a shot sending them down a crumpled pile.

Pushing the advantage she rushed towards the red haired man. The other remaining thug jumped in the way blaster raised. A flash of light as the barrel was cut off. A shout of surprise as a leg was swept out from underneath her. A thud as she crashed into the ground. A gurgled yell as a boot heel slammed into her throat keeping her pinned to the ground. Charuri turned towards the red haired human panting but saber still raised and pointed at his face.

"Run. Now." The man nodded and dropped his blaster as he turned and ran in the other direction. She sighed as she stepped off of the other thugs throat who breathed out a sigh of relief. Before she had a chance to make a move the young jedi give her a swift kick to the side of the head sending her off to the land of sleep with her two other fellows.

The sound of fighting had died down and she assumed that Naat had easily dispatched her own foes. She looked at two of the knocked out thugs. Their sizes were similar enough that she and Naat would probably be able to fit into their clothes. She began the slow and methodical process of stripping the bodies for their gear as she did she called over her shoulder.

"Hope you are alive. Cause I think we just got lucky for the first blasted time this night."
@vietmyke
Myke if anyone else said that I'd feel guily.

But yeah sorry bout that folks. Works been crazy and then a blizzard happened. But I'm working on the post. I can even link you to the google drive document so that you can watch me procrastinate in real time. lol
There ya folks go. A post there are many like it but this one is mine. And now I have to get ready to shovel a car out of 16 or so inches of snow. Woooooot.


M A N Y Y E A R S P R I O R

The end of the wooden staff slammed into the side of Corr’s head. A glob of blood fell limply splattering against stone.

“Faster.”

Vision slowly cleared as he reaffirmed his grip upon his staff. Jerome Rhinebeck stood across from him clutching the staff in his hand. He stood much like Corr shirtless, dark skin bare to the elements despite the winter chill that surrounded them. Despite his advanced age, he had the musculature of a man half his age. Long beard of black peppered with splashes of grey. The centuries old Weissbern Monastery silhouetted behind him by the first early rays of morning sun having just now broke the horizon. His own staff rested easily in a defense grip years of practice and toil making the motions effortless.

With a yell, the fifteen year old boy crossed the gap between them lunging forward with the staff. This started a small rapport of wood knocking against wood. Each blow being thrown out being easily deflected, the older man never loosing eye contact with his pupil. Corr overextended and his staff was easily pushed and anchored to the ground. As he attempted to pull it free from underneath his opponents staff, a foot easily rocketed into his solar plexus sendong him tumbling back.

Jerome tossed the staff back to him.

“Why do we fight?”

“We are the sword. Like the spirits we are double-edged refined both in mind and body.” Corr answered back reciting Scripture with ease.

This time his opponent rushed forward, the boy was barely able to pull his staff upward bracing against an overhand blow that made his arms quiver. As concentrated as he was at keeping the staff at bay he did not notice as a heavy leg sweeped out and knocked his legs out from underneath him. The air was forced out of his lungs in a small gale as he reflexively curled up against the pain. As no other blow came he pushed himself to feet seeing Jerome once again across the way from him.

“Why do we fight?”

“Cause beating up kids half your age makes you feel young again?” Cor answered as he circled more cautiously this time. He pushed outward with a feint, calling the bluff Jerome did not twitch as he circled counter to him. As he reached one hundred and eighty degrees on the circle, Cor swapped his footing and struck out. A similar exchange from earlier occurred as Jerome blocked blow after blow before slamming the staff into Corr’s right side buckling him before jabbing an end with just enough force to the top of the skull to send him stumbling backward flat on his ass.

“Why do we fight!”

Corr gripped at the palms of his hands hard. The veins in his arms bulging with tension. He looked from his staff still on the ground and back towards Jerome. He wiped the sweat from his forehead smearing blood across his face. And with a yell he charged at Jerome going low. The staff lashed out snapping like a whip across his left shoulder and back but he pushed. There was the sickening thud of impact as Corr met his waist and wrapped his hands around him. He pushed forward with enough force to send both of them crashing to the ground. Corr landing on top one on the chest, fist raised.

“To protect people!” He answered and slammed the fist downward where it met flat earth. Jerome’s head easily snapping out of the way. A smile broke through the heavy beard as he clapped his hands around Corr's head pulling it downward as he brought his own upward smashing hard skull against the bridge of the young man's nose sensing him reeling backwards in a splash of blood.

Getting up from his prone position he tossed his own staff away and raised his fists. The smile still on his face.

“Good. Again.”

S O L D I E R E N C A M P M E N T - Z A L E R A T U N D R A



As soon as they entered the mess tent Corr vanished. Partly this was because if he spent anymore amount of time next to Carmen, the Giant would probably have its own version of a meltdown, and also because he had to prepare the food. The camp as small as it was did not have a dedicated mess staff and it was expected that they could take care of themselves. And any excuse to get away was a good one.

Cooking was a strange thing. It was something that while he wouldn't be winning any awards for his fine cuisine it was something he could do. A skill honed through years toiling in the Monastery's kitchen, where the only punishment of failure was that your own dinner tasted like burnt crap. It helped him clear his head if whatever was happening. A task which he could throw everything he had against it and forget about everything else for a few blessed moments.

Luckily for the ragtag bunch of misfits across the way whose conversation was dulled to a lowed mumble, Corr had already been prepping for the meal earlier. Though of course with the increase of bodies some minor adjustments needed to be made. As he chopped and cooked he tried his best to ignore the grumbling of the Giant. He tried his best to ignore the fact that he was going to have to look after a kid that couldn't even handle long distance travel. He tried his best to ignore the fact that he would have to look after a team where half of them couldn't even seem to Control their Aeons and not have them perform minor outburst. He did not think, he only cooked.

Eventually he moved out from the opposite wall of the tent holding a platter easily afloat balanced across one gargantuan hand and a jug of simple water in the other. His ears picking up what introductions as he could as he slid over with surprising amount of silence given his stature. His gait slow and controlled careful so that he could hear the bits and pieces of conversation that flared up around him. Taking note of names and general bearings even though the briefing had told him as watch.

Yet you see Corr was an observant fellow, an observance only further increased by the Giant's embrace upon his senses. And he could feel something building, something akin to a time bomb about to explode in a glass factory. Something whose origin’s epicenter was at the direct middle point between Nic and Carmen. Corr was partly intrigued and mostly terrified. So he moved slowly in such a path so that his face came within both of their respective lines of vision for a fleeting moment.

The eyes first flickered to Nic and they were kind and they were beseeching a simple plea. Careful. You crazy bastard. Next they flickered towards Carmen much sterner this time but knowing it probably wasn't going to do much. Play nice. And after the brief half a second it took for him to pass and place the water down he pulled away. Content to let whatever was about to transgress to transgress, happy now that at least if somebody died he at least tried.

Moving as far away from the prospective blast radius as he could he placed the platter on the table. It was venison nothing that would make any heads roll, but surprisingly suitable to the pallette given the lack of material to work with. He made a motion gesturing for the others to dig in. With a sigh he sat down upon an unclaimed chair creaking underneath the newfound weight atop of it. He rubbed at the exhaustion in his eyes as he spoke to no one in particular.

“Corr. Mission is mysterious probably better that way. No time for second guesses. I was instructed to make sure you folks don't die. Cool? Cool.”

And then he closed his eyes trying his best to ignore the constant thrumming coming from somewhere in the back of his head.


@AlexStarsion
Why Adventure of course!



FYI I'm aiming for the next story post to hit Friday evening EST.
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