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Re: For the Good of...Who? [P, Flame and I]

Postby MillietheWarrior » 05/24/2010 9:35 PM

Sole was still a free man. Well, as free as he might ever be. His last run in with the bounty hunter had left him reeling; he was confused, not only by her actions, but by his own as well. He’d never opened up to anyone, spoken with such clarity and assurance on anything so personal; and all she’d done was ask him a simple question. It frightened Sole to think that he was losing control of the situation, but like the captain he was, he gathered his wits back about him, and he went on with his mission. He was lucky that recoil had been around to help him get free of his embarrassing confinement; he still bore deep rooted lacerations around his wrists, bound now by white bandages, that were certain to leave very noticeable scars. His shoulder still ached painfully if he moved too quickly or turned a certain way, but he learned to ignore and live with the pain, as he always had. The physical wounds would fade with time, but his doubt and his confusion seemed a near constant and permanent fixture in his life.

He was doubting himself, something he’d never done before. And it wasn’t Astraea’s strange abilities or her inhuman speed that had him second guessing; it was her words. Sole had been desperately trying to wrap his head around her motives, the reasons why she didn’t kill him, or why she continued to prolong the hunt. It didn’t make sense, and like all things that didn’t make sense to him, it baffled and infuriated the man like a thorn in the backside. So like any smart man, Sole left the rickety little apartment he’d come to call home for the time being to drown his confusion in…juice. He chuckled as he leaned against the table, staring into the dark glass of Muja juice. He sincerely doubted other men drowned their sorrows in juice, but he was the rare exception. Besides, alcohol was a pointless and frivolous concoction that turned even the best of men into drunken idiots and dulled the senses.

Sole glanced up as a Twi’lek waitress sauntered towards his table, smiling brightly. He was taken aback by the vivid red of her skin when she leaned in close, her eyes flashing a brilliant blue as she moved to refill his cup. “This all, honey?” she asked, clearly wishing she could visit his table more often. Sole merely smiled back, waving his hand dismissively. “Yeah, thanks, sweetheart…But I may need a refill sometime soon, so if you wouldn’t mind coming back by…?” He trailed off, raising a suggestive eyebrow, and the Twi’lek giggled, clearly flattered by the attention. “Of course. Anything for you, handsome,” she twittered, running a hand along his arm before sauntering off to wait on another table. Sole shook his head, chuckling softly to himself as a slow shiver ran it's way up his spine. Apparently, you could get quite a bit if you just knew the right words to say.

He lifted his gaze from the refilled glass and towards the door of the bar. The music was loud, shimmering lights lighting up the dance floor as the beat pulsed and boomed in his ears. The table he’d chosen was relatively dark, the light unable to reach his seat. Sole liked it that way; it drew less attention. Of course, he was hard pressed to escape the attention of the Twi’lek waitresses, who flashed him a smile whenever they passed or made sure to stop by his table whenever they had a spare moment. He swore he’d had about five cups of juice so far. In truth, the attention of so many females both baffled and frightened him. He didn’t know how to react to their advances, and he wasn’t sure if anything he’d said was proper or respectful.

What did normal men do in these situations, Sole wondered, as he waved shyly at another waitress who passed by, twittering happily when he glanced her way. He didn’t think he was all that good looking, so what was it that drew them to him? He frowned contemplatively, his eyes drifting to the door, then to the bar, and then to the dance floor where a few brave strangers were dancing the night away. Sole sighed, and placed his head in his hands, grumbling quietly to himself. His life was full of complications, and one puzzle after another. He was finding it difficult to pick them apart, and his lack of focus and concentration was beginning to frighten him. Maybe the waitresses had spiked his drink; he didn’t know. All he knew was that he needed a night of rest after trying for weeks to figure out what was wrong with him, and all the problems he was facing.

[16]

I love adventurous tales like that. That uplifting feeling that comes from seeing unknown lands and the knowledge that you came across—nothing can replace it! It opens a path from which self-confidence, experience, and important friendships—from the sharing of life or death situations—are born! But hearing it just isn’t the same. I want to create my own magnificent story!



A great adventure!


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Re: For the Good of...Who? [P, Flame and I]

Postby Flame » 06/29/2010 5:12 PM

It was another typical night at the local bar, and seeing as it had already been several hours since evening had fallen, the town’s nightlife had begun to stir in preparation for another sleepless night. It was now that the otherwise quiet settlement (it really wasn’t large enough to be called much else) really came to life in all of its brilliant, vivid shades, otherwise unknown to those who only came to see what little the town had to offer during the day, which, to be entirely honest, wasn’t much. At night though, the Dead Coast (and aptly named) was just like any other metropolis, at least, if you knew where to look. It was surprising, the sort of people you met in what outwardly seemed like such a quiet and altogether lackluster place; the town just did a good job of hiding it during the daylight hours.

Immersed amongst the rest of the flashing neon signs, the endless flow of alcohol, drunk men, and general scantiness of clothing, the pub was decked out in full apparel (figuratively speaking), and being the largest of its sort in the vicinity, it was the hub for much of the less savory traffic making its way through the neighborhood. Judging by the general shabbiness of the town, one would think that much, if not all, of the income (as little as it was) that came in was spent on ‘nighttime leisure’, which was probably true. Nonetheless, due to the fact that the town was, for the most part, ‘off the map’, it attracted a lot of business from clientele who preferred to remain safely anonymous. This was the sort of place where no questions were asked, disappearances were quite common and went unnoticed, and it was best to keep your business to yourself.

It was for this purpose that Astraea happened to be in this part of town during this hour. It had been over a week since her last run-in with the absconding Clone whom she’d been sent after, and since then, she’d seen no sign of him. Then again, she also hadn’t been actively hunting him either; truthfully, she really didn’t want to catch him – not quite yet, at least. She’d taken on another bounty since then, and it was because of that that she was here tonight, in the hopes of gleaning some information on her new target while she was in town. Like any good bounty hunter, she was certainly dressed for the occasion; her goal was not only to blend in with the usual crowd, but to use what she had at her disposal to her advantage. This had meant doing a bit of shopping before heading into town; after all, her wardrobe wasn’t particularly extensive, nor did she make it a habit of wearing the sort of get-up she happened to be outfitted in right now.

While aiming to fit in with the other women at the bar, Astraea preferred to preserve a measure of her pride and dignity, so instead of the more common outfits which revealed more than they covered, she opted for a somewhat classier look (well, as classy as these kinds of clothes could get). She had chosen a floor length single-shoulder dress in a rich shade of crimson, the silky, fluid, wine-hued material hugging closely against her skin. Astraea wondered vaguely how women could do anything while strapped into such a straitjacket-like contraption, but that did say something for the two hip-high slits fashioned into the gown. The only thing that really bothered her at all was the open back of the dress, which swooped all the way down to the small of her back, leaving her feeling distinctly exposed. Nonetheless, she shook the feeling off; some trade-offs had to be made if she was going to get the job done. After all, it was quite extraordinary how much a little bit of allure could loosen a man’s tongue. There was a time for playing things low-key; this just wasn’t one of them.

Stepping into the pub, she was immediately rewarded by several heads turning to glance at her as she glided in. A faint smile played on her lips as she glanced about the room briefly, subconsciously noting the eyes that lingered too long. If it was information that she needed, there was certainly a lot of fair game in this bar, that she was sure of. Syria had been left outside, as her presence in the pub would have been both intimidating, would raise too many questions, and altogether draw far too much attention to herself and her mistress. After only a moment or two of observation, however, Astraea’s attention was sidetracked by the distinct feeling that there was something slightly…‘off’ about the atmosphere; like there was something she ought to be noticing, but remained at the fringes of her awareness, just out of reach. It both perplexed and frustrated her, and while she felt the need to figure out exactly what the source of the presentiment was, she couldn’t exactly stand here and block the doorway until the solution came around and smacked her in the face either. It would look far too suspicious (or just make her look like an idiot), especially with all these eyes currently fixed on her. So, she picked a direction, half by instinct and the other completely at random, and strolled leisurely into the bar as if she knew exactly where she was headed.

Almost completely ignorant to the catcalls and some of the bolder hands which were scattered along her unwavering path, her puzzlement only grew as she reached the shady back corner of the pub, where the clients were much fewer and farther between. Here at least, she had more time to mull over the inexplicable hunch that there was something she wasn’t catching on to. Her sapphire gaze swept slowly across the whole room, looking for something, anything that might give it away. It was only when she’d looked almost a full 360° around her that it hit her; actually, it was the distinct scent of blood, much fainter than she last remembered, that tipped her off, although she half doubted that what her own senses were telling her. There’s no way that…Her gaze fell upon him, the man whom she’d been hunting for so long, then had stopped hunting altogether. Unless her eyes were deceiving her now too, she’d literally walked straight into one of the last people she’d been expecting to ever see again.

Despite her experience with maintaining an emotionless façade, genuine surprise flickered in her eyes for a moment as her mind caught up with the rest of her senses, temporarily stricken mute. She hadn’t immediately caught on to his presence, due both to the fact that she hadn’t been expecting to see Sole again, of all people, and the fact that there were so many people currently inhabiting this pub as well, and she’d made a point of blocking out the impression that she’d just strolled into the world’s largest walking buffet. It happened to be one of the side-effects of vampirism, and one which she’d learnt to deal with.

“What are you doing here?” She’d finally found her tongue again after a brief second or two of shocked silence; it was rather difficult to be any more eloquent after her initial surprise. After she’d gotten past the preliminary jolt though, her first reaction was anger; after all, she’d purposefully let him off the hook with fair warning to give him a chance at the freedom which he’d said he’d so yearned for, only to run into him while deliberately not looking for him. However, as much as it infuriated her, she couldn’t let herself go in the middle of a crowded bar; it would draw entirely too much attention to both of them. So instead, she put a stranglehold on her temper and forced a passably pleasant expression onto her face for the rest of the world to see, although her fury was quite evident, although only to Sole, in the dangerous glint in her steely sapphire eyes.


{Sorry that reply took so freaking long to get up. x3 Apparently, my muse is happy not to be cooped up any more though. ^^ -wiggles- And the world's most unlikely couple is now officially back in action! 8D}
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Re: For the Good of...Who? [P, Flame and I]

Postby MillietheWarrior » 07/14/2010 3:59 PM

The door opening and admitting a new member to the ‘club’ was nothing out of the ordinary, so Sole didn’t look up at first. There was a decided hush that fell over the crowd at the bar, before the noise resumed and the chattering of voices rose over the music. His head was still in his hands, fingers rubbing circles on his temples; he wondered briefly if the waitresses had been spiking his juice, then decided after one glass of something like that, he’d have been passed out on the floor. No, he probably just had a headache. Too much hard thinking and not enough sleep, he decided.

The flashing of the lights was distracting, but when they were blotted out completely, Sole mentally sighed, and prepared to look up; he knew someone was standing beside him, and he figured it would be one of the waitresses. Of course, when he lifted the gaze to the feminine figure blotting out the lights, he was thrown for a literal loop. He stared up into a pair of eyes and a face he’d become quite familiar with over the past few months, and he couldn’t help but let his mouth fall open in shock.

“What are you doing here?”

Sole’s mouth worked silently, as if trying to find the right words to reply, but all that came out was a curious squeaking sound. “What…” He managed briefly, before he leapt from his seat, arms straight down in front of him and palms flat on the table. He lifted a hand and pointed at her, his brows drawing together angrily. This was the last thing he expected, and the last thing he wanted. He just wanted one night alone, one night out to spend some time being a real person, instead of looking over his shoulder and wondering if he was being shadowed by some crazy, self-regenerating blood-drinker.

She was not supposed to be here. Had she really been following him this howl time? If he hadn’t noticed her, then he was definitely getting rusty; he’d have to brush up on his observational skills. Right now though, he was full of indignant anger and annoyance as he pointed accusingly at her. “You!” he growled. “What do you mean ‘what am I doing here?’ What are you doing here?” He narrowed his eyes, taking a step forward until he was toe to toe with her.

He tried very hard to ignore the fact that she was wearing a very appealing form fitting dress, or that he could smell the faint scent of cinnamon on her skin. He was glaring down at her, quietly willing himself to focus on her eyes, as a low growl rumbled deep in his chest. “Get lost. I’m not in the mood for your osik tonight, and I certainly am not in the mood to deal with your freaky, biologically impossible, 'should-be-dead' self. Understand?”

[17]

(Phail...Just phail. Sorry about the lameness of this post.)

I love adventurous tales like that. That uplifting feeling that comes from seeing unknown lands and the knowledge that you came across—nothing can replace it! It opens a path from which self-confidence, experience, and important friendships—from the sharing of life or death situations—are born! But hearing it just isn’t the same. I want to create my own magnificent story!



A great adventure!


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Re: For the Good of...Who? [P, Flame and I]

Postby Flame » 07/20/2010 4:12 PM

Astraea glared down frostily at Sole, her patience still tethered at the very edge of its breaking point, although only by the finest of threads. She’d only come here looking for clues and information on her current target due to the fact that this unlikely pub happened to be a hotspot for passing travelers, and instead, what did she find? The very last person she’d been expecting (or hoping) to find. It was understandable that she might be rather upset over his blatant carelessness and apparent disregard for his own safety. At this moment, she was very ,very tempted just to knock him out and drag him off to the person who apparently had it out for him. As someone who had hunted down countless ‘uncatchable’ targets, this man had to be the stupidest bounty she had ever hunted (or lack thereof).

She watched disdainfully as the realization of who was currently keeping his company hit him face-on, her expression never changing as he struggled to find his tongue. She seemed to radiate a cold fury, even despite the fact that she kept her face carefully straight to keep any unwelcome attention from the rest of the patrons in the pub at bay. However, Sole didn’t seem to have the same concern, and as he leapt out of his seat to accost her, the only response he received was one eloquently arched eyebrow clearly giving him her distinctive ‘Oh, really?’ look.

As he stomped up to stand toe-to-toe with her, Astraea was forced to tilt her head back to look up at him (he was still slightly taller than her, even when she had stilettos on). Folding her arms stolidly over her chest, she stared impassively back at him in the face of his annoyance, the only sign of her own anger being the furious glint in her eyes. “Well, unlike some people,” she hissed, her voice dangerously soft, “I actually have work to do here, rather than just sitting around and wasting my time drinking and flirting.” She snorted derisively. “I came in here hoping to dig up some information on my next target, and what do I get? The very bounty I’ve been making a point of NOT looking for.” Her tone seemed to drip acid as she addressed him, her ire clearly evident although her expression still remained deceptively cool. Nonetheless, the passing clientele and waitresses alike seemed to give the pair a wide berth, probably for their own safety’s sake as well. “I wonder why they offered so much for your capture...I mean given enough time, you probably would have walked straight into their hands. Now stop that; you’re making a scene.”

However, his next words definitely were not what she had expected to hear, and just for a moment, she almost did lose her cool simply from the shock of his statement. This time, it was her turn to be disconcerted, but she knew that if she let it show, it would be a dead giveaway that he’d managed to strike a nerve somewhere. Did he know? How could he possibly have found out? It wasn’t as if it was a piece of information she freely gave out on a regular basis; it was what gave her the element of surprise, not to mention the fact that her ‘condition’ was probably not all that socially acceptable, as far as she could predict. The only people who knew anything about her at all were in the government, and no one would have thought to look over twenty years back in the records for information on a twenty-something-year-old woman, right? Plus, it wasn’t as if Sole was even under the employ of the government any more anyways. Nonetheless, the direction that the conversation had taken made her extremely suspicious, and she studied his face with narrowed eyes, her gaze penetrating. “’Should-be-dead self’? Please, explain what you mean by that statement, I beg of you,” she replied, the sarcasm evident in her voice as she glared up at him.
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Re: For the Good of...Who? [P, Flame and I]

Postby MillietheWarrior » 08/02/2010 5:00 PM

Sole let out a hiss of air from between his carefully clenched teeth, trying to keep the look on her face from further adding fuel to the already raging fire of ‘annoyance.’ “Well you’ll have to excuse me, Miss ‘I Know Everything,’ because I didn’t anticipate running into you here. You’ll have to forgive me for thinking I was allowed to have a drink in a dark corner, where no one was bothering me, I might add, until you came along.” He prodded her in the shoulder, and studiously kept his eyes on her face. It didn’t matter that she was a freaky non-killable person, or that she was a bounty hunter after his head; she was still a woman, and it was still fairly difficult for Sole to concentrate on what he was saying when she was standing there in that dress.

“I am not making a scene, thank you very much,” he growled under his breath, but knew that she was right; already, there were murmurings circulating through the crowd, and a few of the waitresses had stopped to stare openly at the two quietly arguing combatants. If he didn’t stop this soon, the two of them were going to draw way too much attention. This was a place where rumors began, and he certainly couldn’t allow any of those rumors to get back to his superiors. They’d question his ability to get the job done, and that, he knew, was the last thing he needed. He had a feeling that if anything got back to command, Traveler would staunch the flow of questions and buffer them with witty answers and embellished promises that would leave their superiors full of faith in his skills and leave their doubts at their feet. But that could only happen for so long before they became wise to his lieutenant’s tricks. Sole needed to get them out of the limelight.

Without thinking, Sole grabbed her hand and tugged, hard. He used enough force that it would have sent a normal human reeling, and then dragged her towards the dance floor. The lights still flared, and the music still boomed. Sole was lucky that there were more and more couples making their way onto the dance floor as well; he didn’t look like such an idiot out there by himself. He wrapped an arm around her waist, and then grabbed her hand, crushing her against him. “Don’t act like you don’t know,” he hissed, ignoring the feel of her body against his as he moved to the beat, spinning slowly. “I shot you. Shot. And your alive. It was. Point. Blank. You should be dead. I don’t know what you are, but apparently, I was mislead by your appearances.”

And by my superiors. No one told me I’d be going up against a freak of nature, he thought bitterly, twirling them easily around the floor. He was a surprisingly good dancer; light on his feet and strong, he actually seemed to know how to dance, which would be, of course, a surprise to anyone who knew him for more than ten seconds. This was a weird thing for a soldier to know and participate in, but apparently he knew very well what he was doing.  “So tell me, what are you, really?” His face was inches from her own, light red eyes watching her curiously, though there was a dangerous glint hidden in their depths. “You're not human, that’s for sure…and I’ve never run into anything like you. So I’m curious; why didn’t you die, hm? Or should I just shoot you again and try to figure out the answer for myself?”

I love adventurous tales like that. That uplifting feeling that comes from seeing unknown lands and the knowledge that you came across—nothing can replace it! It opens a path from which self-confidence, experience, and important friendships—from the sharing of life or death situations—are born! But hearing it just isn’t the same. I want to create my own magnificent story!



A great adventure!


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Re: For the Good of...Who? [P, Flame and I]

Postby Flame » 08/02/2010 8:18 PM

Cold blue eyes glimmered dangerously in the half-light of the back of the pub as Astraea glared back at Sole, concentrating furiously on maintaining a façade of indifference when she wanted nothing more than just to punch him in the gut right there and then. “Well obviously, you don’t take your life or your freedom very seriously if you didn’t ‘anticipate’ being seen by someone in a hub like this.” Her low undertone remained an angry hiss, although her temper flared when he prodded her in the shoulder, and she came dangerously close to socking him in the face in return for touching her. The only thing that currently held her back was the fact that they were undoubtedly beginning to draw an audience, and an unwanted one at that. All they needed was for her to give them an excuse, and all hell would break loose. Despite how tempting a good, proper fight sounded right now, it was the last thing she needed, and she knew it.

“Of course you aren’t…tell that to your audience, why don’t you?” Her voice dripped with sarcasm as she retorted, although she was beginning to feel more and more edgy as the seconds ticked by and more eyes turned in their direction. Her goal when she had entered the bar tonight was to remain unnoticed and under the radar, but it seemed that thanks to her unexpected and unwanted companion, they were doing a brilliant job of catching all the attention of the patrons and employees alike. She was about to add to her barrage of general abuse when suddenly, completely out of the blue, he grabbed her hand and proceeded to drag her across the room. He caught her completely off-guard, and she would have stumbled (as any other woman in three-inch heels being yanked with that sort of force would have) had she not caught herself at the last second, not given the opportunity to even try to fight him off while she simultaneously tried to keep from falling over and follow him at the same time.

It became apparent, after a brief moment of doubt, as to what his plan was. Furious, and yet unable to show him just how displeased she was with him (at least while in the middle of a crowded bar), she could only shoot him a glare that seemed almost venomous enough to level him where he stood. However, she had to admit, however grudgingly, that this was probably the only way they could throw off the attention they had managed to gather while they’d been arguing. She hated this, she hated him, and yet for once, he had her backed into a corner, and there was nothing that she could do but go along with it.

She gasped almost inaudibly as she felt herself suddenly crushed against him as he pulled her disconcertingly close, almost more surprised than she was angry for a moment. A soft, menacing growl rumbled threateningly in her chest as she narrowed her gaze at him before reluctantly letting him take ahold of her, letting her hand come to rest on his shoulder, nails digging in discreetly as she mutely voiced her distaste at the situation she’d been put in. She expected him to be just like all the other men she’d danced with in her life, with two left feet and absolutely no grace whatsoever. Great, just what she needed; a terrible night, and to top it off, bruised toes as well. However, to her astonishment, he almost quite literally swept her off her feet on the dance floor, and there was a moment’s hesitation as she lagged behind, half disbelieving the ease and confidence with which he moved across the dance floor.

Nonetheless, ever unwilling to let him get the best of her, as soon as she recovered she matched him pace for pace, pushing the rhythm in an unspoken challenge, her gaze locked fiercely on his. Her steps were light and careful but unwavering, as if she wasn’t quite sure what to expect from him next. However, she found the fact that she was pressed so tightly against him highly unnerving for several reasons. First of all, she liked having her personal space be personal; secondly, it was extremely difficult to ignore the warm scent of blood, especially when it was so close that she could literally feel it pumping through his veins, and finally, the way he was holding her, his grip powerful and almost possessive, woke some distant memory that had remained hidden in the recesses of her mind, forgotten for countless years. That, if nothing else, bothered her the most, and she suppressed the memory lingering at the very edge of her thoughts, although it remained as restless and distracting as ever.

“Well, maybe you’re just not as good of a shot as you thought you were,” she replied shiftily, although she knew that there was no way of avoiding suspicion now. She cursed silently to herself; she should have been more careful going about his capture that day. Now she was feeling the repercussions for her mistake. “Now, what kind of ‘element of surprise’ would that be if I just went around telling people? It would just take all the fun out of the surprise.” She was pretty much bluffing her way through this right now, but being a person who knew what to look for in a liar, she made for a very convincing one, although what she was saying were more half-truths than outright lies. “Plus, tell me, what do you think would possess me to tell something like that to someone like you? Right now, you are the last person in the world I’d tell anything to, as you should very well know.” She snorted, but despite her agitation, she never missed a beat, as if her body was moving completely separately from her mind. “You’re quite welcome to do your worst, as I’m sure that would do so much for ‘not drawing attention’. It's not like you'd learn anything I didn't want you to know anyways.” At this moment, it was getting extremely tempting to just flash him a fanged grin (it certainly said something for retractable fangs) just to get the satisfaction of giving him a good jolt. However, that desire, just like every other one tonight, was quashed and set aside, no matter how enticing it was.
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Re: For the Good of...Who? [P, Flame and I]

Postby MillietheWarrior » 08/15/2010 8:42 PM

Sole hid his smile of satisfaction when he read the carefully veiled shock and astonishment on her face. What, had she expected him to be a klutz or something? Maybe any other man might’ve been less than light on his feet, but Sole liked to prize himself on being the best at everything he did. If that included dancing, then all the better for him. It had certainly thrown his would-be bounty hunter off, if only momentarily. But Sole didn’t have much time to revel in the fact that he’d thrown her off kilter. He had more pressing matters to attend to. “Growl all you want, sweetheart. It’s not gonna change a thing,” he said, shooting her an infuriatingly smug look.

His grip on her waist tightened almost imperceptibly, putting just enough pressure to warn her not to try anything stupid. Not that he imagined she would; to do that, she’d have to be stupid in the first place, and from what Sole had gathered, she was far from it. “I’m sure you expected me to be a less than competent dancer. Guess I have a few surprises of my own.” He twirled them effortlessly across the floor, grip firm and almost crushing as he kept her close to him. When the tempo of the song sped up, so too did Sole, and he whirled to dip her precariously, debating on whether or not he should let go and just let her hit the floor. As entertaining as that sounded, Sole knew that would draw way too much negative attention. So he lifted her from the dip, hand keeping a steady pressure against the small of her back, and resumed his quick-step across the floor.

“Oh, I know how good of a shot I am,” he said with a dark look. “And I know I never miss. I hit you point blank. Yet, somehow, you magically and miraculously healed yourself, something which shouldn’t be possible. Not even a Jedi could survive a shot at point blank range. Surprise or not, I’m very curious to know.” She was playing it by ear. She was dancing around the question like a ballerina. It was time to find out the truth behind her strange little secret. Sole was a persistent man; he hadn’t survived this long by just rolling over and giving up. “Believe me, sweetheart, you do not want me to ‘do my worst.’ You might end up with a few missing limbs as a result. If I get curious, there’s very little I won’t do to satisfy my curiosity. I wonder if you can re-grow arms as easily as you can stitch yourself back together?” He smirked darkly, his face inches from hers, and his gaze locked on her own. “So tell me,” he began testily, his fingers digging into her hip and hand with sharp, angry pressure. “What are you exactly?”

I love adventurous tales like that. That uplifting feeling that comes from seeing unknown lands and the knowledge that you came across—nothing can replace it! It opens a path from which self-confidence, experience, and important friendships—from the sharing of life or death situations—are born! But hearing it just isn’t the same. I want to create my own magnificent story!



A great adventure!


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Re: For the Good of...Who? [P, Flame and I]

Postby Flame » 11/15/2010 12:19 AM

Astraea couldn’t deny the fact that she was surprised by her unwanted partner’s prowess on the dance floor; dancing wasn’t one of the talents she had been expecting to see from a battle-hardened, albeit AWOL soldier. Base jumping or rock-climbing, maybe, but certainly not something as ‘refined’ as dancing. She couldn’t help but wonder where someone like him might have learned such an art, or what might have possessed him to do so, let alone where he would have picked it up. It didn’t seem like one of those things that they would teach during training, but who was she to say? Nonetheless, she could almost feel the smug satisfaction radiating from Sole as he maneuvered them across the dance floor, and she knew that he had sensed her surprise. It only served to fuel her frustration with him, but she refused to let his cockiness get to her. The only sign of her annoyance was the tightening of her grip on his shoulder and the glint of irritation that flashed in her eyes as she stared impassively at him.

“Perhaps you overestimate your own abilities. You know, there is such a thing as being too full of yourself, and I’d have to say that you suffer all the symptoms of having a chronic, overinflated ego.” The small smile she flashed him in the dim, wavering light of the pub was as equally condescending as the look he had shot her earlier. “You know what they say…“Curiosity killed the cat.” Maybe you shouldn’t be sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong, hmmm? You might not like what you find.” At that moment, Sole chose to swing her into a dangerously low dip, bending her back so far that her long, dark hair cascaded down to brush lightly against the ground. Her piercing gaze remained locked on his as they hovered for a moment, and she was half-prepared to catch herself should he suddenly decide to drop her – which she certainly wouldn’t put past him – and in return, do as much damage on the way down as possible for his trouble. However, she was somewhat relieved when he decided against it and pulled her back up towards him to resume their course across the floor.

“Perhaps if you were as competent of a thinker as you are a dancer, you would have been able to figure that little conundrum out for yourself, huh?” She offered an infuriating smirk, seeming completely unfazed by his threat, is if it were a triviality which she came across every day (which was not too far removed from the truth). In reality, most people were all bark and no bite, and she knew that he wouldn’t risk doing something that stupid in the middle of a crowded bar. Of course, she wouldn’t put it past him to actually carry through with it if the circumstances were different, but for the moment, she held the upper hand, and she wasn’t afraid to wield her advantage shamelessly while it was hers. “Plus, where’s the fun in that? You’re a clever boy, you should be able to figure it out for yourself.” Her tone was playful and provocative as she taunted him, curious as to what it would take to get a rise out of this intriguing – if exasperating – character. “Or perhaps I’ve sorely overestimated your intelligence, in which case, this was a fun game while it lasted.” The challenge in her voice was unmistakable as she matched both his gaze and his step, daring him to overstep his bounds. “Give it your best shot. After all, what do you have to lose?”
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Re: For the Good of...Who? [P, Flame and I]

Postby MillietheWarrior » 11/15/2010 12:45 AM

Sole couldn’t help the smug smile that crossed his features. She was playing with fire, and she didn’t even realize it. He was loathe to draw attention to himself, but Sole was a thinker, and he was a soldier, and he knew very well that if something terribly strange or dangerous were to happen in the middle of a crowded room, half the people would panic, while the other half would stand around in confusion as they tried to figure out what to do. He was well aware of how much leeway he had to get away with taking her down. Besides, he had a few theories and ideas to test out, and with her pressed so close, those theories and ideas would be perfectly simple to carry on with.

“What can I say?” He shrugged nonchalantly, still smiling. “I guess I’ve been sick all my life, then.” She was playing it cool, unfazed by his charm, his prodding, or his infuriatingly eloquent smile. She danced along to the music as easily as she danced along with his banter. But Sole was an ARC. Elite. Dangerous. Unpredictable. He supposed that now was a great time to live up to the stigma of the ARCs. “Oh, I don’t know, sweetheart,” he said, casually dropping his hand from her waist and spinning her away, keeping a firm grip on one of her hands. When he pulled her back to him, his hand did not return to her waist, but instead, pressed a small, almost invisible blaster to her stomach.

“The thing about me is, I’m not one to ‘get killed’ so easily. In fact, I’d say I’m the one who killed the cat in the first place.” He continued to dance as if nothing were amiss, and no one around them seemed any the wiser. The point of the blaster pressed painfully against her, and he smiled darkly, his eyes glinting with an angry, feral light. “Since I can’t ‘figure you out,’ nor can I weasel any answers from you, I’ll just have to experiment again. This ‘clever boy’ has decided that, if you won’t tell me your secret, then I’ll just find out for myself. And if you wind up getting killed in the process…”

Here he shrugged, seeming unconcerned with his own nonchalance about killing her. “-then I suppose my curiosity will be sated, and the game will finally be over. And what’s one less nuisance in my life, hm?” He leaned in closer, until his face was only an inch away from her own. “You see, the thing about it is…I like to take things literally. So how about I give it my best shot? Cause sweetheart, I’ve already lost it all.” Sole smiled darkly, before he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers in a move that stunned even himself. Then he leaned back a little, and fired.

((Some kind of crazy, I tell you.))

I love adventurous tales like that. That uplifting feeling that comes from seeing unknown lands and the knowledge that you came across—nothing can replace it! It opens a path from which self-confidence, experience, and important friendships—from the sharing of life or death situations—are born! But hearing it just isn’t the same. I want to create my own magnificent story!



A great adventure!


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Re: For the Good of...Who? [P, Flame and I]

Postby Flame » 11/15/2010 7:11 PM

If his self-assured expression was anything to judge by, it was apparent that Sole was more than confident in his own abilities and the belief that he could best her, regardless of the circumstances. Likewise, Astraea was certain that he underestimated her and what she was capable of. But of course, only one of them could be right, and she was determined to prove him wrong. After all, he was just like every other conceited, arrogant fool out there, and it was her job to put him back in his proper place. She’d done it a million times before, and she would have no issue with doing it again.

From what she’d seen so far, it seemed that Sole was all talk and no action, and Astraea seemed determined to push him to his limits, regardless of how dangerous it could potentially be for her in the long run. After all, she was used to living on the edge, and no chase was fun unless there was an aspect of risk in it to raise the stakes. However, she was somewhat surprised to find how quickly her companion rose to the challenge when she felt the unmistakable sensation of the barrel of a blaster pressed against her abdomen, both the movement and the weapon discreet enough to escape the notice of those around them. To be honest, she hadn’t expected him to jump to this solution, and certainly not this quickly. If anything, this just gave her less time to formulate a plan of her own, and she had to admit that she was reluctantly impressed by his spontaneous decisiveness.

“Tisk, tisk,” she sighed, shaking her head lightly in mock disappointment. “Is that the only thing you can come up with? Is your solution to every problem you can’t figure out to whip out your gun? I have to say that I’d expected better from you.” He wouldn’t be stupid enough to actually shoot her in the middle of a crowded bar…would he? Her gaze was as unwavering and condescending as ever as she returned his stare, but as much as she hated to admit it, she had no idea what he planned to do next. It was the first time that someone completely bemused her, and she didn’t like it one bit. Generally, it was easy to read people through the tiniest, almost imperceptible signs that they couldn’t help exposing, no matter how skilled they were, but trying to read Sole was like trying to read a book with blank pages; he wasn’t giving any secrets up anytime soon, and Astraea didn’t have the time to waste.

It soon became apparent though, that he wasn’t bluffing; she could tell from his voice and the deliberateness of his movements that he meant business. However, both of them knew quite well that the tables had been turned on her, and that as quickly as she had gained it, she’d lost the upper hand to him, and now they were playing the game by his rules. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she glared at him, her ice-blue eyes suddenly dangerously cold as she stared him down, almost daring him to do the deed. She was at a deadlock, and as much as she hated it, she knew that for this brief moment, she was held completely at his mercy, subject to whatever his unpredictable mind fancied. That moment though, was very short, and he could either choose to make his move or once again give the advantage back to her as soon as she was given the chance to retaliate. Apparently, he was shrewd enough to know that it was a one-time opportunity that would likely never happen again, and he took it.

It seemed though, that Sole did indeed have more surprises up his sleeve that Astraea hadn’t anticipated. There was nothing in the world that could have prepared her for what happened next. In a swift movement that allowed her no time to react, even with her heightened reflexes, Sole made his attack. However, despite the fact that she’d taken on almost every type of assault imaginable in her years of experience, this was the first to catch her completely off guard. Something, a memory that she thought she had locked up and buried far beyond the point of no return, stirred in the recesses of her mind like the catch of a long-forgotten melody. In that brief fraction of a second of vulnerability, she seemed to melt into the unanticipated kiss, but as quickly as the moment came, it was gone again. Astraea wrenched herself away from the unwanted gesture; everything about this situation was wrong, wrong, wrong. The place, the time, the person…For a fleeting instant she had been somewhere else before reality hit her once again like a freight train.

A second later that impact manifested itself in physical pain as sudden agony tore through her abdomen. At that moment, the memories that had been hovering at the fringes of her consciousness broke free from the shackles that had restrained them for countless years, raging through her mind like an insatiable tempest of anguish. Despite the control which she prided herself in, for a few seconds, she was captive to the prison that was her own mind, oblivious to the chaos that erupted around her. At the sound of gunfire, the bar had naturally exploded into a mess of panicked confusion, and people were scrambling left and right like startled cats, trying to get away from the unseen threat. One hand had instinctively lifted to cover the fresh wound, the freshly-spilled blood warm against her fingers. Luckily, the deep crimson hue of her dress hid the damage from immediate sight, and for the moment, the startled crowd was none the wiser.

It took a force of willpower that she didn’t know she had to push the memories away momentarily and snap back to a semblance of awareness of the world around her. Despite her apparent regained composure, it was clear that she was deeply unsettled. Nonetheless, she grabbed Sole’s arm with her free hand, locking it in a surprisingly powerful vice-grip as she unyieldingly dragged him through the crowd towards the back door which led to a deserted alleyway, using the cover of confusion to escape unnoticed. They were met by Syria, who was clearly in a state of agitation as she paced restlessly back and forth just outside the exit, her bladed tails slicing through the air tensely, ears laid back as a dangerously low growl rumbled deep in her throat. She was clearly aware of the fact that something was wrong, and the sight of the man her mistress had in tow coupled with the scent of her blood was enough to kick her growl up to an angry snarl. She had never seen her mistress this distressed, despite how well she hid it; after the decades spent together, the two knew each other as well as they knew themselves, perhaps even better. However, a glance from Astraea kept her at bay for the moment, if with great reluctance.

Whirling with inhuman speed, Astraea turned on Sole, eyes flashing dangerously and one hand still holding her stomach although she could feel the skin steadily knitting itself back together under her protective palm. “Satisfied now?” she hissed, her voice uncharacteristically venomous as she stared him down, the heat of the hostility radiating from her gaze enough to melt solid rock. “If that was your ‘best shot’, apparently it still wasn’t good enough, was it? So, maybe you should seriously reconsider what sort of fight you’re getting yourself into before you end up regretting it. That’s strike two, and personally, I don’t have the patience for third chances. I’d advise you to quit while you’re ahead, soldier.” That said, she turned without another word and stalked silently away from him, a million thoughts coursing through her head simultaneously as she fought to come to terms with herself once again.


{Hehe, apparently, this is what happens when I keep my muse cooped up for extensive periods of time. XD Poor girl…she just got a punch in the gut from her past, almost literally.}
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Re: For the Good of...Who? [P, Flame and I]

Postby MillietheWarrior » 11/16/2010 12:39 AM

Oh, wow. Sole hadn’t quite been expecting that to happen. He glanced form the blaster to Astraea’s slowly bleeding wound, and frowned thoughtfully. Well, she hadn’t keeled over, so she probably wasn’t dead yet. As he’d predicated, the entire bar had erupted into undignified chaos, half the people jumping over chairs, and the other half using tables as shields against their ‘would-be’ attacker. Sole scratched his chin as he contemplated the meaning of her supernatural abilities. On one hand, she couldn’t be killed, and that was probably a plus for him. He was supposed to bring her back alive. On the other hand, she couldn’t be killed. Bad news for the GAR. A firm grip on his arm startled him, and Sole jumped, aiming the blaster again at the person who dared to try and take him ‘into custody’ for discharging a weapon in a public place.

Well, at least, that’s what he assumed was happening. He hadn’t expected to see the back of Astraea’s head, or feel her nails (Or were they claws?) digging into his arm as she drug him across the floor and out the door. Sole stumbled a bit, having been caught completely off guard. As they exited the bar, he quickly wrenched his arm away from her, and eyed the snarling, giant, razor-bladed cat who was currently watching him as if he’d just cut it’s foot off. “Interesting,” he said at last, fairly ignoring Astraea as she seethed at him. “I shot you twice. Point blank both times. How come you aren’t dead?” he looked at his blaster, then back at Astraea, and stroked his chin curiously. “So…you don’t die, I assume? Is there any way to actually kill you? I mean, if I cut your head off, would you die?”

He shook his head, seemingly talking to himself. “No, no, that seems a bit drastic. I wonder…maybe blood loss? Now how would that work? And for that matter, how do you knit yourself back together? Maybe you have some sort of genetic anomaly going on here. Maybe a new strain of the Jedi midi-chlorian? I suppose I wouldn’t be an expert on that though. Maybe if I got a blood sample….” He glanced up, as though just realizing Astraea was speaking to him, and chuckled. “Oh really? So I suppose when I felt you melt against me after the kiss, I was just imagining it, eh? I think someone is a little lonely.” He wiggled his eyebrows, and then leveled his blaster at her. It was beneath him to shoot anyone, especially a woman, in the back, although he was seriously considering it. “You can’t deny you felt something back there. I don’t know what, but your body didn’t lie. I don’t really feel like dwelling on it too much; it’s obvious your just desperate. After all, why would you let a bounty get so close to you?”

He smirked, eyes glinting darkly. Sole was playing it by ear now; he was making it up as he went. Half of the things he was saying barely made sense to him, but he was at his wits end. Not only did she not die when he shot her, but now he was faced with the mystery of what she was, and the possibility of her walking away from him. For reasons he could not fathom, the second thought scared him. He didn’t know why, but it did. He chalked it up to the fact that he’d be punished severely if he disobeyed orders and allowed her to get away again. “Going to walk away, then, bounty hunter? No time for round two?” He raised one brow, giving her a sideways glance. “And just when we were really getting acquainted. Come on sweetheart. How 'bout it?”

I love adventurous tales like that. That uplifting feeling that comes from seeing unknown lands and the knowledge that you came across—nothing can replace it! It opens a path from which self-confidence, experience, and important friendships—from the sharing of life or death situations—are born! But hearing it just isn’t the same. I want to create my own magnificent story!



A great adventure!


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Re: For the Good of...Who? [P, Flame and I]

Postby Flame » 11/16/2010 3:19 AM

Despite her better judgment, Astraea stopped for a moment, her back still facing him in unconcerned indifferent, clearly showing that she didn’t see him as any threat to her. Although she knew that she shouldn’t let him get to her so easily, she could feel irritation bubbling within her at his nonchalant words and behavior. The pain, both physical and psychological, made her temper dangerously short, and it took all she had not to turn around and give the offending party a proper piece of her mind that would be a constant reminder for the rest of his life. Just a broken limb or two would do. But regardless of her own annoyance, something still kept her from acting rashly and purely out of exasperation.

“Are you really still childish enough to believe in things such as immortality? Well, if that’s the case, then my answer is yes, no matter what you do, you can’t kill me. What are you going to do about it?” Even though her expression still remained hidden, the scorn which dripped from her voice was unmistakable in her response, her derisive tone alone managing to single-handedly make a mockery out of his intelligence. She was in no mood to deal with his little game right now; the damage that he had already done was going to take a very long time to patch up, and at the moment, he was the very last person she wanted to be around, if only because something was keeping her from physically dismembering him right here and right now to help alleviate her internal turmoil.

Now fully exasperated, she finally turned to level him with a glare once again, her expression patronizing. “Do you really think that’s something that I’d actually tell you? That would be just about as smart as you putting your neck between Syria’s jaws…although that would save me a hell of a lot of trouble.” She snorted; it seemed that everything that came out of Sole’s mouth was purely for the purpose of aggravating her to no end. “A Jedi? Please, don’t insult me. I think I can quite safely say that your imagination is even feebler than your intelligence. For someone as supposedly smart as you, you seem to live in an extremely small and limited world.”

His next comment though, only served to rankle her even more. He seemed determined to rub her the wrong way every way possible, and right now, if that was his goal, he was doing a splendid job of it. He’d inadvertently found her one weakness, the one flaw in her self-constructed armor of apathy which she wielded against the rest of the world. It wasn’t him or even the kiss that had brought her defenses down, but the memories he had unknowingly unlocked which now raged havoc on her thoughts and judgment. However, she would rather die than let him know just how profound of an effect his actions had had upon her. “Says the person who kissed his pursuer in the first place,” she replied with a derisive snort, refusing to acknowledge his previous statement. “Apparently, you’re desperate enough to imagine something as far-fetched as that. And I would assume that it’s for the same reason that you let your hunter get this close to you.”

Why was she still talking to him? She knew that she should have long since just ignored him and gone on her own way without looking back. She was a lot deeper in this than he could have ever known, and no matter what she did, there was no way that she could turn it back around again. No bounty had ever gotten the better of her before; only sheer, dumb luck had given him the momentary advantage, and it wasn’t one that she was about to let him exploit against her. It was just that she hadn’t been kissed since…

A short growl from her feline companion brought her back to the present and she stared impassively at Sole for a moment before turning on a heel and beginning to walk away from him once again, determined not to let him have his way. She refused to humor his goading and advances; after all, she had more than enough on her plate to deal with as things were. “Yes I am, and I doubt there’s anything you can do that can stop me, short of killing me. We’ve already established that you’re far from capable of doing that. It’s not that I don’t have time for ‘round two’…I simply don’t have time for you. So, I’ll warn you one last time, unless you have a death wish, I’d advise you not mess with things you don’t understand.”
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Re: For the Good of...Who? [P, Flame and I]

Postby MillietheWarrior » 11/25/2010 12:50 AM

“Perhaps. You never know. Maybe immortality is a myth; maybe people just get really, really, really old.” Sole paused, and frowned, lifting his eyes to bore into hers. “I wouldn’t know anything about that, of course. But you, my finely dressed friend, are about as close to immortal as they come. No Jedi, no Dathomir witch, no Sith, no scientist could survive something like that. You are not human, that’s for sure. But you bleed, and you feel pain. There’s no denying it.” Suddenly the joking, free-spirited demeanor he had exhibited through most of their encounters together disappeared.

His eyes narrowed to shrewd, calculating slits, glinting darkly in the pale street light. “You can be killed, there’s no doubt about that. If you couldn’t be, then you wouldn’t be as clever, or as cautious as you are. Don’t lie not me, bounty hunter.” He took a step forward, and this time, lifting the gun to eye level and pointed it at her once more; a point blank shot, a kill-shot, to the heart, should he decide to pull the trigger. “I wonder how many places I’ll have to shoot before I find that one little weak spot; that one spot that takes you out for good.” He smiled a dark, twisted smile, features warped by the shadows playing across his face. He flicked the charge on the blaster, and it beeped to indicate it was ready to fire.

His eyes darted first to the gun, and then to her, before he slowly lowered the weapon, bringing it to his side. An almost undetectable movement had it hidden once more somewhere on his person, though one might be hard pressed to figure out where. “I don’t know,” he shook his head, speaking after a long moment of silence stretched on between them. There were few, if any civilians on the street, and the darkness, save for the street lights, nearly swallowed them up, making it nearly impossible for anyone to see the emotions that flittered across his face; confusion, longing, anger, hurt.

“Maybe I wanted you to get close to me. Who can say, really? I can honestly tell you that you are the first and only person to ever catch me off guard. Then first and only person to ever physically injure me. The first and only person who I couldn’t figure out. Maybe that’s why you intrigue me; you’re a puzzle I want to solve, but I can’t. Maybe that’s why I let you get close to me. Because I want you to get close to me. I want to understand you. I want to know who and what you really are.” He fell silent again, lowering his gaze, as though defeated. He didn’t even know where the words came from, where the feelings came from. They surprised, angered and upset him, but Sole was nothing if not honest, and he said what he thought and what he felt to the best of his abilities. “I won’t ‘mess with things I don’t understand…’ So explain them to me. That’s all I ask. I know we’ll meet again, and one of us will die, I’m sure. At least give me this little piece of mind before you kill me.”

I love adventurous tales like that. That uplifting feeling that comes from seeing unknown lands and the knowledge that you came across—nothing can replace it! It opens a path from which self-confidence, experience, and important friendships—from the sharing of life or death situations—are born! But hearing it just isn’t the same. I want to create my own magnificent story!



A great adventure!


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Re: For the Good of...Who? [P, Flame and I]

Postby Flame » 11/25/2010 4:52 PM

“…and you feel pain.”

‘Yes…that I do.’ In fact, she felt it more strongly now than she had in a long, long time. He said that she was not human; that was true…at least, not anymore. There was a time when she was just as fully-alive and human as he was now, but that was in a distant past which she had long since locked deep away in her mind, somewhere where she wouldn’t remember it. At least, where she thought it was hidden away for good. However, in a surprisingly brief amount of time, this stranger had showed her just how wrong she had been on so many different accounts. So far, he’d gotten closer to figuring her out than anyone before him, a fact which both surprised and somewhat worried her.

He was smart, perhaps smarter than she’d given him credit for. Even though her back remained turned to him, she could almost feel the tension in the air as he leveled his weapon at her once again, this time aiming for something vital, no doubt. She knew that if he chose to fire, she had roughly a 50% chance of surviving should he aim to kill; either way, she’d be dead, or out of commission for a long time. However, she maintained her cool, emotionless air of calm, waiting to see if Sole would make his move. “What do you think I have to lose through death?” she asked, her voice mild, as if she were inquiring upon something of little consequence, such as the weather. “Maybe that’s why I’m good at what I do; I have nothing to lose, and yet at the same time, nothing to gain. I’m already living only half-alive as it is, which, I’m afraid, makes your threats somewhat inconsequential to me.” The irony of what she was saying was almost sardonically humorous; there, the truth was hidden in plain sight, the fact that she currently lived in the gray area that existed between being either truly dead or alive. She currently existed in the state she was in, neither favoring one or the other, but simply awaiting some form of closure, no matter what form it finally came it.

Although she resisted it, his next words still managed to stop her in her tracks once more. She could sense the change in his demeanor, although this time, she couldn’t tell what was going through his mind from his words alone. For a moment, it seemed as if he had let go of his inhibitions; even she could tell that what he was saying came straight from the heart, even if she didn’t know exactly what his heart had in mind. Either that, or he was a damn good actor. Whatever the case, she had to admit that he had her fooled. However, what he said still brought no resolution to the situation, only more confusion and frustration. “So, I just happened to have the fortune of being this next puzzle, game, project of yours? Well, I’m glad I managed to entertain you for a little while.” There was a hint of bitterness in her mocking words, her sarcasm evident even though her face remained hidden. “But then, assuming that there is anything for you to find out in the first place, the magic’s gone as soon as you’ve had your fun, and the game’s over.”

There was a faint undercurrent of resentment in her voice as she spoke, although she questioned herself as to why she would resent him in the first place. He held nothing over her; she was nothing but a game to him, and he was no more than a bounty to her. It was as simple as that. There were no ties that would cause her emotions to come into play, and yet, despite what she thought, it seemed that they somehow had. “Tell me, why would I, a nameless bounty hunter, be of interest to a renegade soldier such as yourself? On the contrary, shouldn’t I be the kind of person you ought to be avoiding? And if I do tell you, would you simply just go on your own way and leave me to mine? For some reason, I don’t think that it’s quite as simple as that.” There was a momentary silence as she paused. Then, she turned slightly to glance over her shoulder back at him, her gaze settling on his for a moment. “…I’m no one. That’s all there is to it.”

She turned away again, this time, the silence almost brooding in quality before she spoke again. “You know, as reckless and impulsive as you might be, you don’t strike me as the type of person who would just roll over and accept death. What makes you think that we’ll meet again? Unless you come looking for me, I doubt such a ‘chance encounter’ will happen again. I will make sure of it.”
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Re: For the Good of...Who? [P, Flame and I, Mature]

Postby MillietheWarrior » 03/30/2013 4:36 AM

“Nothing, if I had to guess,” Sole said softly, his voice barely a whisper in the dark. The world seemed to cease around them, until nothing existed but he and the bounty hunter. “But then, you wouldn’t be the first to say that.” He was suddenly overcome with pity for this creature; yes, he knew she was not human, but he didn’t know what she was. He could only classify her as the unknown, and it frightened and thrilled him at the same time. Here was a being with which no living mortal had ever encountered and unraveled, and the mystery of who she was, was too enlightening for him to ignore. “Yes,” he said slowly, quietly, treading now on thin ice. He knew it was only a matter of moments before she disappeared completely. He couldn’t let that happen; for the Republic…and for himself.

“Yes, you do. Entertaining, yes. But intriguing, exciting, mysterious, captivating. You don’t even see yourself for the wonder that you are. If I could survive a point blank blaster shot, I wouldn’t have to worry about an untimely demise on the battlefield.” He smirked, a bit of the old Sole poking it’s head in as he eyed her with amusement. “Not that it’s a problem now, but I do have to worry about hard-to-resist bounty hunters and their shameless antics that could and probably will kill me in the end.” He stepped forward, slowly easing towards her, inch by inch. He lifted one hand, but then seemed to think better of it, and dropped it. “Who’s to say? I’m not a man who takes his interests lightly. How do you know you won’t be the one who captivates me for eternity? Not that I have eternity, but you catch my drift.”

Another step, another hand lift, but then it was back at his side again. He seemed to be having an internal battle, waging a war with his mind and his body to obey his commands. Something told him to go, and something forced him to stay. He didn’t seem to have a choice as he moved steadily closer, closing the gap between them. “I thought I was the one who interested you, sweetheart. Weren’t you the one who started chasing me? Besides-” He licked his lips, and stopped, tilting his head to the side as he pondered.

“-how would you know where my interests lie? The only thing you know about me, is that I’m a clone, I’m a deserter, and I’m a fighter. Oh, and I’m amazingly good-looking, but that’s beside the point. You say you’re ‘nameless’? Try being faceless. Try being one in a million, and waking up every morning to see everyone else is wearing your face. Try having all your rights and freedoms taken from you, and your choices disregarded. Try watching everyone around you die in painful, terrible ways, while you're helpless to do anything. Try waking up everyday with the knowledge that it could be your last. Trying living with the idea that you’ll die in your mid twenties, and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it."

"Try imaging that you’ll never have a family, a wife, and you’ll never come home. Try thinking about what it’s like to be expected to follow orders and kill whomever is in your path, whether they’re women, children, or old men. Try wrapping your mind around the idea that you’re nothing, and never will be, to anyone or anything, and that if you died, right now, no one would even know or care. You think you're no one? Sweetheart, you have NO idea what it’s like to be ’no one.’ I think your idea of being ‘no one’ is some kind of pathetic excuse to keep yourself sequestered off from the world, hiding away from them and from some great big, dark secret that you’d rather not have brought to light; an excuse not to live. You're just a coward, that’s all you are.”


Now he stepped forward, his body moving of it’s own volition. He slammed into her, knocking her flat against the wall, his body pressed tightly against hers. Their close proximity sent a deliciously dark shiver racing up his spine, as a heat pooled in the pit of his stomach, and he licked his lips again, his eyes inadvertently focusing on her own lips. He shifted against her, suppressing a rumble of sheer delight at the way her body melded with his. Forgotten were the encounters from before, when both tried to kill or maim one another. Forgotten was the giant armored cat who stood guard behind them, and forgotten was the bar and it’s rowdy patrons. All that there was, was the here and the now. And Sole very much liked the ‘here and now.’

His hands slid along her hips, then down her arms, pressing against her palms until he had enveloped them in his hands. He pulled them up above her head, not liking the idea of having anything between them, and gathered them in one hand. “What are you afraid of?” he murmured quietly, his breath fanning across her cheek. She smelt of perfume, the bar, and something ancient and thrilling and Sole gently buried his face against her neck, nipping lightly at the sensitive skin there, and then kissing it to soothe away any hurt he’d caused. His heart was racing at the sheer tenacity of his own boldness, and he pressed against her, enjoying every soft curve and smooth inch of skin that melded against his body as if it had been made to fit there. His free hand settled gently on her hip, running along the swell of her leg, and up her ribcage, stopping just below the sensitive flesh that rest above.

“You can’t possibly be afraid of me, can you?” He lifted his head, lips inches from her own. “Or maybe you are. What are you hiding? What are you hiding from? You can tell me. I can keep a secret.” He touched his lips to her in a feather-light caress, but drew away to nip at her neck again, soothing away the sharp pain from his teeth with gentle kisses and an experimental lave of his tongue. His free hand wrapped around the edge of her back, pressing her as close to him as he could, relishing in the feel of her against him. He could almost imagine spending the rest of his life with a woman like this, provided she didn’t want to kill him. Too bad this one did. “You’re really very beautiful, you know…despite what you may think.” And then his lips descended on hers in a hungry, demanding kiss, fiery and passionate, giving and receiving at the same time. He kissed her as if she were a banquet, and he a starving man just come upon the first food of his life.

It was possessive, wanting, eager, and a low growl rumbling in his chest as he claimed what was his with a sheer, primal instinct. He had never kissed or been kissed before, despite what his brothers might have thought. This was new to him; but some carnal, hidden urge thrashed its way to the surface, controlling his actions as he ran his tongue gently along her bottom lip, demanding the entrance that she gave only seconds later, wittingly, or unwittingly, with a gasp. His tongue battled with her own briefly, before he felt something sharp prick at his lip. Sole pulled back, breathless from the kiss as he panted heavily, and reached his free hand up to dab at the small smear of blood that welled up on his lip. His gaze turned smoky, desire flaring to life in the pit of his belly and elsewhere in his body. He wanted to possess her, to have her, to keep her as his for the rest of his very, very short life. He’d forgotten that she was wanted by the republic, and his current quarry. “Interesting,” he murmured, body nearly quivering with his reigned in desire. “Shall we continue this elsewhere?” he breathed, once more returning to nip hotly at her neck. “We can forget we’re enemies, just for a little while. I promise not to tell.” His eyes shone up at her with mischief and dark, hungry desire, no longer a bright red, but now a deep, smoky ruby.

I love adventurous tales like that. That uplifting feeling that comes from seeing unknown lands and the knowledge that you came across—nothing can replace it! It opens a path from which self-confidence, experience, and important friendships—from the sharing of life or death situations—are born! But hearing it just isn’t the same. I want to create my own magnificent story!



A great adventure!


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