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| Child of Sight; Beviin's backstory | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Jul 24 2010, 12:05 AM (293 Views) | |
| Beviin | Jul 24 2010, 12:05 AM Post #1 |
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Diet Dew Fiend
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Child of sight-- Part 1 Spike stands on the rooftop of his coruscant apartment, watching the streaks left in the night sky by passing speeders. He has to admit he is more than a bit nervous. Tonight was an important night. He had been courting a lovely young lady, who called herself Hettyc. She was a mandalorian, he knew, but she didn't seem as savage as tales implied. She was sweet, and warm. He enjoyed being around her. At the same time, she scared the hell out of him. During the most recent date, in a restaraunt hardly within his salary and over a bottle of liquor, he had finally gotten her to regale him with her exploits as a warrior-for-hire. It was obvious she was witholding details for his sake, but the stories still made it hard for him to beleive such a lovely girl was capable of such things. He would ask her what made her take up such a living, and she only smiled, played with her glass and replied: "It's in my blood". She immediately changed the subject to Spike. Wanted to know what it was he did for a living. Spike worked for coruscant security, a beat cop. His job was to prowl the seedier corners of the city-planet, weeding out any lawlessness he was able to. "That sounds dangerous," Hetty replied, leaning over the table, her brown locks obscuring half her face. "Not compared to working for the trade federation, I'd imagine." "You'd be surprised," she said, smiling. "Basically the same folk, just got on the bad side of someone with money. My equipment helps, too." Spike shot a knowing glance toward hs dinner guest. "I've never seen real mandalorian armor before... maybe you'll let me see you in it sometime?" Hetty's visible eye widened briefly, then shut tight as she laughed. She leaned back in her seat, letting the low light shimmer on her dress. Spike suddenly felt self-concious. Maybe he had made a social error. "Did I say something wrong?" "No, no..." Hetty composed herself, brushing her hair back to look directly at her date. "Most men I've seen have only wanted to get me OUT of my beskar'gam." Spike folded his arms and stared at her for a moment. Something wasn't adding up. "Something is bothering me, Hetty. What I know of mandalorians leads me to think they arent very prone to dating like this. What happened to the other men you've seen?" Hettyc shook her head. "Why do I have to like the smart ones? Look, Spike, I... really..." she took his hand in hers, "like you...". She looked him right in the eye, all joviality gone. Her face was a portait of stoicism. "If you really like me too, and you're serious about being with me, things get a little risky. There's something you need to do before we can be together, and you might not survive it." Spike stared back at her in disbelief. It was hard to fathom his charming companion really meaning what she said. He opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted. He could feel her push a note into his hands. "Don't answer right away. Think on it. I dont want you to get hurt." She stood up, walked to Spike's side of the table, and whispered in his ear. "I appreciate the meal. Next time I'll let you buy." He looked directly at her, and she leaned in, looked into his eyes, and gently headbutted him. She had walked away before Spike opened the paper parcel in his hand. In legible but elegant handwriting, it read: "Spike, These past few encounters with you have been wonderful. I've never known anyone like you. I knew you were special from the moment I saw you, when you attempted to 'save me' from that mugger. But now that I have grown to know you, I have grown also to care deeply about you. You are mandokarla, Spike. You have 'the right stuff'. But this lends me equal parts joy as well as sadness. You see Spike, most mandalorians marry young, and to other mandalorians. But my full name is Hettyc Talyc, of the Eparavu clan. My clan is rife with traditions, those pertninent being the rites of acquisition. In order for an outsider to be adopted into the clan, or for anyone-mando or non-- to marry in, they must survive an attempt on their life by the clan. If you want to be with me, then by mandalorian and clan law we must be married. And I must try to kill you. Meet me on the roof of your apartment at midnight, if you dare. If I do not see you, I will not despair for though I will not have you, I will know you are safe. I hope for your safety, Hettyc Talyc Eparavu-- --Burning Bloody Devourer." * * * * * * * * So now stands Sgt. Spike Akeshi, Coruscant security, atop a building in the night, wondering what the hell he is doing. He hopes this is some kind of joke, but is armed to the teeth nonetheless. He has told his department not to interfere, that he is in 'deep cover'. He wears a long black coat, to protect him from the draft. The least of his problems, he wagered. But it was resistant to small energy weapons, albeit a tad flammable as a result. He wears both of his standard issue blaster pistols, as well as a hold out emp blaster in his sleeve. He worries he is underprepared. Which is why he 'borrowed' a confiscated vibrosword from evidence. He stares at the city traffic, and wonders out loud again. "What the hell am I doing here?" "The same thing we all do, where I come from," Comes a familiar voice behind him, with a slight electronic edge. "Fighting for what you want." He turns, to face the voice. A figure stands before him, covered entirely in a blood-red bodysuit, an ominous sight in the low light. Over the bodysuit lay metal plates, dark green and black. The face is obscured by a helmet, deep red and black in parts, with a green visor. "This is your last chance to back out, Cyar. It's all or nothing." Spike stares into the expressionless T-visor. Funny, he thinks to himself. I never expected my first interaction with a mandalorian to be like this. Meanwhile, a less rational part of his mind screams: IMINSANEIMGOINGTODIEJUSTWALKAWAYYOUMORON "All in." In the blink of an eye, Hettyc drew a pistol with her right hand and fired. The weapon silently sent a projectile whirling by Spike, as he half dove aside and drew his pistols. 'A verpine?!' He thought to himself. He quickly double tapped into his enemy's breastplate, which made a faint tink sound. 'That freaking armor!' His mind commented. It didnt help that he had his pistols turned down to stun. She fired again, running now paralell to him. It grazed off his ribs, and stung like hell. He drew his second pistol, and fired madly at her visor, hoping not to hurt his murderous amore, but buy himself some time. It worked, to the degree that while they did no visible damage, Hetty was unable to fire back. He saw her line up a shot again in the dim light, and quickly dug his feet in, changing direction. She fired ahead, and he repeated the flurry. Immediately after, he aimed carefully, standing stock still, and fired at the verpine pistol. Shots went wide, missing or striking armor plating, but one lucky bolt struck the fragile firearm as its owner fired. Blaster bolt passed neatly by metal round, as each went their own way, destroying respectively the verpine gun and Spike's right shoulder. "AAARGH!" he roared. How could this really be Hetty? His sweet girlfriend, mysterious but alluring. She couldn't really be this homicidal human weapon! "If you fight to spare my life Spike, you will lose yours!" Hettyc boomed at him, and boosted into the air with her jetpack. Twin geysers of flame erupted from her gauntlets and she sped over her beloved victim, bathing him in flame. His hands were seared, and he dropped his guns. His coat erupted immediately into flame, and he danced madly with it, trying to disrobe. 'Not of much use anyways,' He thought lamentably as Hetty came back for another pass. His hands shreiked with pain, his right arm was useless, but he was prepared now. He agonizingly gripped his EMP hold out blaster and fired as she came into range, and fired. Nothing came visibly from the gun, but the consequences were dire. Hettyc's jetpack faltered and died, the flames dying identically in her flame throwers, and she crashed hard to the ground and rolled. Spike hoped it was over, but was dissapointed when Hetty climbed to her feet, drew a sword from a sheath underneath her jet pack, which she discarded. She threw her helmet, powerless and hampering, to one side and pointed her blade at Spike. 'It IS her,' His mind disparaged. 'My lovely Hetty really is trying to kill me.' He drew his own vibrosword from the sheat that was once concealed under his now-ashen jacket, and hoped he was holding it right, in his left no less. His dominant arm hung useless at his side. He breathed heavily, his entire body hurt, either bleeding or seared. He tensed in preparation as hetty's lovely green eyes sharpened, her face hard, and she charged. Time seemed to slow to an infinity, as each clanking footstep nearing resembled the last clicks of a clock counting down to Spike's demise. 'Would I do it all again?' He mused briefly to himself. 'For her?' his mind replied, 'absolutely'. She was before him in a flash, brown braid streaming behind her, as she slashed downward wth her bes'kad. Spike swung upward to meet her, but her blow was a feint. She crouched, twirled, and slashed deeply across both of Spike's legs. She stepped with her back leg, and swept upward. Spike barely moved his face aside in time to save it, but his vibrosword was flung from his grip. He sank to his knees, unable to support himself. Hettyc raised the sword over her head, and looked down upon her helpless foe. Spike looked up into the eyes of the woman he loved. Sweet, sinister. Mysterious, murderous. Sexy, strong. She was more attractive to him then than ever before. He raised his left arm weakly, and punched her in the stomach plate. She was, predictably, unphased. She did not swing, but grasped his armor vest with her armored left hand and pulled his face to hers. Then to his surprise, she kissed him, deeply and lovingly. "That wasn't a kiss of death was it?" Spike panted. "No Cyar'ika. I am sorry. You were wonderful." She smiled, and headbutted him gently. |
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| Beviin | Jul 26 2010, 10:53 AM Post #2 |
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Diet Dew Fiend
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Sorry kyram must have this on top till i get ONE COMMENT that isnt you or mereel! |
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| Frostmane | Jul 29 2010, 12:26 AM Post #3 |
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Head Administrator
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Nice work Bev, I await the next part. |
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| Beviin | Jul 29 2010, 12:28 AM Post #4 |
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Diet Dew Fiend
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Thanks frost. I dont know WHY I named a csf sergeant spike. Something in my mind overpowered reason and made him synonomous with spike spiegel.
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| Frostmane | Jul 29 2010, 12:37 AM Post #5 |
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Head Administrator
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Lol, nice. |
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| Ky'ram Parjai'Kote | Jul 29 2010, 08:21 AM Post #6 |
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PART 2 PART 2 PART 2 PART 2 |
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SWAGORP chat! Go here plox! | |
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| Beviin | Aug 9 2010, 09:39 PM Post #7 |
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Diet Dew Fiend
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PART 2 Hettyc Talyc Eparavu stepped lightly, strafing around her opponent. She gripped her bes'kad lightly, ready to assume stance at short notice. The blue armored figure opposite her heaved his shoulders, fighting for breath. Both hands gripped an oversized great sword, proportioned to fit a great sword, and its weight was apparent. He watched Hettyc through his darkened t-visor and, satisfied that she was not making a move, lurched forward to swing. She allowed him to draw back his arm, then swing forward, before meeting the blow with her own bes'kad. She supported the blade with the palm of her other hand, and moving close to her opponent, met the low end of his blade, redirecting the blow down the length of her bes'kad and harmlessly out of the way. This was followed by meeting her opponent's helmet, still in descent from the swing, with the butt of her sword. The result of the skirmish, whish lasted but a moment, was the male mandalorian losing his blade, as his head snapped back awkwardly. He staggered back, impotently trying to seize his own face. "Ooowwww..." Came the voice of Spike from within the helmet. "You got me good that time..." Hettyc sheathed her bes'kad and removed her helmet, clipping it to her belt. "You think I enjoy beating you up?" "Yesh..." He replied, with faux injury. Spike removed his helmet in similar fashion, exposing his new buzz-cut to the fresh air. His brown eyes glinted mischievously at his wife. She lifted the great bes'kad with one hand, and proffered it to her husband, looking nonplussed. "You need more conditioning. How are you supposed to defend your family if just wearing armor tires you out?" "With atrocious swordplay," he replied, then added: "and my adorable dark red murder machine of a wife." Hetty blushed, and shoved him gently. "I'm serious, Spike! You need to be able to wear that armor and not pass out from exhaustion." Her face grew serious. "You need to get used to it. You agreed to this when you married me." "I understand that," Her husband replied calmly. "But what is the big hurry? I can't learn this stuff in a day." Hetty shifted her feet, and glanced away. "No... but you do have a time constraint..." "What? How long? Why didn't you tell me this before?" "I only just found out..." "Found out what?" He began to look blustered. Spike hated reticence in conversation, being initially drawn to Hettyc by her straightforward manner. She flushed again. "Spike... I'm pregnant." |
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| Ky'ram Parjai'Kote | Aug 10 2010, 08:34 AM Post #8 |
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PART 3 PART 3 PART 3 PART 3 Dude, this is amazing, and I learned a new word: reticence! |
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SWAGORP chat! Go here plox! | |
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| Beviin | Aug 11 2010, 12:12 PM Post #9 |
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Diet Dew Fiend
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I'm trying to hustle it to Bev. |
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| Beviin | Sep 14 2010, 02:17 PM Post #10 |
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Diet Dew Fiend
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Oh my god I need to do some editing. |
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3:15 PM Jul 11
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Thanks frost. I dont know WHY I named a csf sergeant spike. Something in my mind overpowered reason and made him synonomous with spike spiegel.
3:15 PM Jul 11