Posts: 14,942 Harry Potter RPG:
- Anastasia Novak
_________________________ Marvel RPG:
- Hope van Dyne/Wasp
_________________________ Ready Player One RPG:
- Journey Watts
_________________________ X-Men RPG:
- Maeve Charbonneau
_________________________ Firefly RPG:
- Inara Serra
- Wendy Carter
_________________________ Lost RPG:
- Kate Austen
_________________________ Once Upon a Time RPG:
- Aurora/Charlotte Briar
- Ella of Frell/Gail Carvine
- Henrietta Jekyll & Hyde/Gabriella Stevenson & Elle
Since I don't have the time nor mind to figure out The nursery rhymes that helped us out in making sense of our lives The cruel uneventful state of apathy releases me I value them but I won't cry every time one's wiped out
Roose had some difficulty on Sihnon. It was a heavily-controlled core planet, so he stuck to the lower-rent places. Of course, even the lowliest dive on Sihnon was better than the classiest place on Deadwood. He sat at a corner table, reading and steadily drinking a root beer. Ordering it had gotten odd looks from here and there; usually there'd be a notion to start a fight. Sihnon just wasn't the type of usual Roose was used to.
He didn't know where he was going. He didn't have a plan, and he didn't have a goal beyond avoiding the law. He remained silently concerned about Izzy; an ex-Alliance pilot? There was no way she wasn't on official papers if they got checked. Roose had the benefit of being considered dead by most, but that could change very quickly.
"Hey." The voice was Dyton Colony. A shaggy-haired, grizzled man with a heavy gut and thick arms. Roose looked up. "Can I help you?" "Think I recognize you, I think. Yes, I think so." "You probably don't." The man leaned down, one of his hands pressing across the book Roose was reading. "What's your name?" There was a cold pause. "Espenson." "Right. Espenson. Well, I'm Thomas Jude. Ever done time, Espenson?" "I'm an honest man." "That wasn't the question, Espenson." Jude slurred the name. Roose looked back at him. "I've never done time." "So if I pulled your sleeve down, I wouldn't see a Face Gang tattoo?" "Not at all. Take your hand off my book." The smile on Thomas Jude's face darkened. "Are you telling me what to do?" Roose fetched a deep sigh from his stomach. "I just want to finish my book. Now get out of my face." Jude smiled brightly again. Then he swung his fist. Roose ducked and tipped over the table. This was not a productive use of his time. He swung a punch, then another. The second punch didn't connect, and in a sudden blur Roose was hitting the wall. He wasn't even sure how it happened, but then thick fingers were around his neck while Jude used his free hand to strike him repeatedly. Each hit felt like a plank of wood to the nose. It was getting harder to breathe.
Then, as he scrambled blindly for a weapon, he grasped the neck of his fallen root beer. He didn't realize the base was broken until after he'd pushed it into Jude's left eye. Freed from the larger man's clutch, he pulled himself up, tasting blood in his mouth. He ran as screams of pain and rage followed him.