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By the hands of the Gods, you have been plucked from your time and from your world, dropped into the box. Only the box is a world of its own.

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Private effortlessly epic... or not

Discussion in 'Horizon' started by Lift Reyes, Dec 16, 2017.

  1. Lift Reyes

    Lift Reyes The Stormlight Archive

    Posts:
    612
    Gender:
    Female
    Occupation:
    Thief / Knight Radiant
    Race:
    Human - Surgebinder
    Age:
    14
    Alignment:
    Chaotic Good


    JANUARY 15, YEAR 7
    EARLY EVENING | AROUND 1850
    @Jesse McCree



    Turned out, shopkeepers in Horizon were just as dumb as them what was in Pandora Town. Lift had filled her pockets to bursting with various pastries and sweets from the bakery - everywhere seemed to have a bakery, and it was her mission to rob every single storming one; who knew what types of donuts she might miss if she didn't? - before the chubby bloke with the apron had even noticed. What was it with bakeries and being run by chubby people? Did they just eat the food they sold for every meal? Not like Lift could blame 'em. She would totally exist on just donuts if she could. Well, she would if that wouldn't just become boring. But sometimes she couldn't be picky.

    Most of the time, really. She was always hungry.

    "You're always hungry because you use an unnecessary amount of Stormlight, mistress," Wyndle explained - for the millionth time - with exasperation when she complained about it halfway across the bakery yard with the chubby baker flailing along behind her yelling. "You should really think about using less."

    "But that'd be rude," Lift said, voice muffled as she ran along with a cinnamon bun lodged halfway in her mouth.

    "Rude? I am not certain I follow, mistress."

    "You're following me right now," Lift pointed out, grinning at the spren's sigh from behind her. She pulled the bun out of her mouth. "It'd be rude, 'cause - as ya like to remind me 'til you're blue in the... vine - you give me my awesomeness, right? It'd be rude and ungrateful of me if I didn't use it every chance I got." Behind them both, the baker was huffing and puffing and flagging behind. Storms, she wasn't even awesome yet! This was just normal speed and he couldn't even keep up! She was totally doing him a favour by running away. Maybe he'd stop being so chubby if he got robbed more and had to waddle after thieves more often.

    "That's... I think I would manage to survive the affront if you stopped using Stormlight so much." The spren exaggerated the word so much she could almost visualise it like a frying pan swinging toward her face. He really hated it when she called it awesomeness, which just made her do it more.

    Lift turned a corner, and then another immediately afterwards. The edge of the town was pretty close, and after the edge of the town, there was lotsa sand. Nice open sand. "Really? Ya barely survive the affront of me saying awesomeness as it is. See? I saw ya twitch."

    "That was merely the breeze ruffling my leaves, mistress."

    She snorted a bit of laughter. "What a loada crem. It was a twitch, sure as I got ten fingers." From somewhere behind her, she heard the baker calling out to someone, whinging that they'd got bested by a kid. "We gotta go," she told Wyndle, before she took in a sharp breath, making herself awesome. The sun was setting, the white vapour trailing from her skin faintly visible. Only faintly.

    The sandy ground took a gentle slope downwards, and she took a few steps before launching herself into a slide, making herself all slippery so sand slid along below her and air slipped over her. She sped along, away from the town and the whiny fat baker and whatever poor fool he'd roped into tryna catch her. No one could catch her when she was like this. She wasn't touching nothing, not really, everything slipping over her form, picking up speed, the desert wind whipping her long hair back as she--

    Thud.

    Her foot caught on a rock with a flash of pain, and she somersaulted through the air, coming to land very heavily on her back, staring up at the darkening sky.

    Crem.


     
    #1 Lift Reyes, Dec 16, 2017
    Last edited: Dec 17, 2017
    Jesse McCree likes this.
  2. Jesse McCree

    Jesse McCree Overwatch

    Posts:
    53
    Gender:
    Male
    Occupation:
    Bounty Hunter/Gunslinger
    Race:
    Human
    Age:
    36
    Alignment:
    Chaotic Good


    Jesse had settled in as Commander of Town Defense Guild pretty easily-- and despite the mouthful of a title, the job was one that mirrored what he’d been doing for years. Trying to dispense justice, in a way that was fair and equal, in a way that made a place safer. A good and honest day’s work that you could feel alright about when you put your head on your pillow at night, no regrets to sleep on.

    The good thing, maybe even the great thing about Pandora was that it wasn’t his world. It was, when Jesse had least expected it, a clean and fresh slate, a place that wasn’t cloudy and muddled with the residue of his past mistakes, his missteps and misjudgements. It was a chance to tell his own story, rewrite the past a little. Finally let go of it. It didn’t matter here where he’d come from, the people he’d hurt, the way he’d failed before. What mattered here was pure capabilities and from them--- a new life, maybe even a new relationship, things seemed to be going alright with Hanzo. As well as things were capable of going with Hanzo he figured, but even that was refreshing. The way they kept returning to each other, both of them fish-hooked clumsily through the cheek by each other and not quite sure what to do with themselves over it. It was unusual for him, to have somebody return, to keep returning. It pleased him even as it filled him with trepidation, the growing anxiety that maybe Hanzo might stop and then where would Jesse be? But it was no time to consider it, better to live on the edges of potential and let the future hold what it would-- even if it would hurt. It wasn’t worth the worry if there was nothing to be done about it.

    Horizon is also-- familiar. There is something explicitly home about it. Maybe it’s the dry hot air filling his lungs, maybe it’s the comforting cradle of returning to somewhere like the nowhere that you’d been born and raised in. He’d explored the world when he’d first gotten here, always a tumbleweed in his soul, but the desert drew him back. The quiet. And Horizon was that. Most of the time at least. Horizon was either the quiet sleepy feel of a small town where nothing happened or it was a bustle of panic and chaos because you never saw it coming those times when shit decided it was going to hit a fan somewhere. So Jesse is either doing-- very little, or he has so much on his plate to be doing that he doesn’t have time to have any emotional reaction to all the things he needed to do and that works for him really. Emotions couldn’t be avoided, not for him, he was jealous of those who could play hide and seek with their own self-awareness but he’d never been one of those people. What he could do was put it off until such a time that he could handle the inevitable come down. Until it was safe to feel like he might shake apart in the aftermath.

    Truth be told, he’s tempted to start calling himself Sheriff. Which would be-- self-indulgent, silly. He’s still tempted though.

    He’s contemplating what a star badge might look like on his chest when he’s quiet watch is interrupted, in typical fashion. Petty crime. He looks at the small dark-haired kid darting through the streets and Robert the local baker, wheezing out warnings about how she needed to stop and come back. Jesse rolls his eyes, can’t help it because he can’t but think he’s left himself open to worse than some kid stealing a few rolls by leaving the shop so unattended but-- it wasn’t his business and not his place. Instead he pats him firmly on the back with the cybernetic.”Leave it to a professional, alright?”

    He gives chase instead and he gains on the kid at first, get close enough to see it’s a young girl, somewhere in that middling puberty age, dark hair and slender frame. Probably the kind of kid who was used to pickpocketing and swiping to get by and equally good at not getting caught at it. Everything about her is….common, until it’s not. Jesse has no idea, magic or something else he doesn’t understand by suddenly the girl seems to practically fly across the ground, so fast it’s like she doesn’t even touch the sand anymore.

    Jesse follows her up the crest of a hill, the edges of town behind them and he’s breathing heavy, getting tired because he’s only human isn’t he? He could shoot her but he’s not about to draw his weapon or use something as deadly as his skills on a kid who stole a couple of sweet buns that are only worth a couple dollars at the most. He’s about to give up chase because there’s no way he can catch up to---whatever it is she’s doing.

    But then, she trips, he doesn’t know on what, one second she’s getting away and the next she’s tumbling over herself through the air, crashing heavily in the sand. He can’t help but chuckle, count one up for sheer dumb luck as he uses the shifting loose sand to ease his walk slide down from the crest of the hill. She looks fine, just stunned, wind knocked clean out of her probably. His spurs jingle as he walks up to stand over her, looking down into wide dark eyes.

    ”Well-- ain’t the most graceful dismount I ever seen but I’d give it a solid 8.5 outta 10.” He says warmly enough. Jesse had been, she really was little more than a kid-- small for her age if he were guessing, that hungry proud look of somebody who was used to watching after themselves. He sees more than just a bit of his own reflection in her. At least what he must’ve been like at 14 or thereabouts.

    ”Y’alright kid? Nothing broken but your pride I’d wager?” He offered a leather gloved hand for her and she looks at it, eyes narrowed suspiciously probably.

    ”Unless you’d rather lay in the dirt? Don’t make no difference to me.”