NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: This role play is only open to those three people who I have already given permission to in the role play In One Man We Trust. Those nation would be Gnufasur, Royale Diato, and Hubble-Bubble (or something along those lines, sorry for not remembering.) This is running concurrently with the other thread so if if those nations already roleplaying there would continue to do so it would be greatly appreciated.

IC:

Jarrod Xavier stood at his mother’s bedside, waiting for her to awaken. It had been nearly two weeks since she had fallen sick, and three days since she had woken from her slumber. Jerrod was the last remaining member of the Xavier family on Nascent. His father was a reservist for the loyalist army, and thus had been called for active duty once the war started, while his two older brothers, Zachary and Caleb had left to fight for the rebel forces, leaving him to care for his mother and thirteen year old sister Mara by himself. It was a thankless job made even tougher when his mother had fallen ill and his sister had been taken into custody by the local police force for prostitution to make money to pay for the medicine their mother needed. Now however, Jerrod knew that it was doubtful if he ever saw his little sister again. The jailors in the area were known for being extremely corrupt and would often sell prisoners to high ranking officials within the government.

Being seventeen Jerrod had been called to serve both the loyalists and the rebels, but he could not choose. And how could he? He would either be fighting against his father or his brothers, both of whom he loved dearly. No, he would stay with his mother and watch her as she slowly slipped away from the physical world and into the spiritual one.

It had been nearly three months since his sister had been taken, and now Jerrod was forced to scrounge for whatever money he could find, often being a courier between towns, sending packages and letters that could not be sent by regular mail. Jerrod knew that he had been carrying packages for the rebels, but he did not know what was in them so he figured that he was innocent of any crimes. This assumption would not last however.

“Bye mother, I’ll be back by night love you,” the boy whispered into his sleeping mother’s ear. He did not expect a response and he did not receive one; however he had done this every time he delivered a package, knowing that he could be stopped by thieves or the local police.

Jerrod opened the rickety screen door on the side of his house and hopped onto his small moped and started it after several tries. He pulled on his helmet and pulled back on the throttle before putting the machine into gear and driving towards the small town of Kettleton. He was stopped at a checkpoint just outside of town and was only allowed to pass after showing the guards on duty that he was a registered citizen of the town. He told the guard that he was going to Kettleton to receive a shipment of medicines for his mother and that he would be back by nightfall. He had used this excuse many times before at the checkpoints ever since they began springing up outside of towns with the smallest bit of significance to them. He was stopped again in Kettleton and after giving the guards there the same excuse he had given the ones in Yuri he was allowed to pass. The drove down several side streets, making sure he was not being followed before going to his target.

It was a small shack covered in years of dirt and grime. A vine crept its way up the poles of the shack’s small wooden porch giving the illusion that the vines were the only thing keeping the porch’s shingled roof from caving in on itself. Jerrod pulled into the overgrown gravel drive way and hoped off the bike leaving the motor running. As he stepped up onto the porch several boards creaked, causing a curtain in one of the small windows on either side of the door to flutter. Just as he had made it to the front door and was about to knock the door flew open and the man inside grabbed Jerrod and flung him inside shutting and locking the door behind him.

“Ah J-Jerrod my son, I-I’m sorry for being so rough with you, it’s just the police have gotten wind of my operation and I cannot take any chances.” The man looked visibly shaken up, his face was pale as chalk and a thin sheet of sweat glistened on his forehead and cheeks.

“Do you have something for me to deliver Mr. Porter?” Jerrod smiled as he held out his hands, waiting for the letter or package he was supposed to deliver to be placed in them.

“Y-yes, just p-please wait, I can’t do it, run my boy, it’s the loyalists, run!”

Just as Mr. Porter finished his sentence a hail of bullets flew towards him, several of them lodging themselves into his back. Jerrod tried to run but was quickly cut off bye two men with rifles. He turned and tried to go out the back but was once again stopped by men with rifles. Soon he was cornered by the five men who had set the trap for him.

“P-please, I didn’t know, I swear.” Jerrod’s screams for mercy were met with the butt of one of the men’s rifles, him sprawling to the floor with a broken jaw. One of the men pulled out a large combat knife and waved it in front of Jerrod’s face, watching as the boy’s eyes filled with tears and his pleas for mercy turned to sobs. The man with the knife grabbed Jerrod by the hair and placed the blade of the knife on the right side of his forehead and sliced diagonally through his eyes lid, across his nose, and through his lips, stopping once he reached the tip of his chin. Satisfied with his handy work, the man threw Jerrod’s head violently against the hard wood floor of the shack, and then motioned for the others to follow him out of the building.

As Jerrod lie there in a pool of his own blood he began seeing visions of his father, being tortured by loyalist forces in a prison camp. He saw his two older brothers being lined up against a wall and shot by a firing squad. He saw his sister being raped repeatedly, then only after every man in the police station had taken their turn, shot in the head. Finally he saw his mother, lying in her bed, surrounded by a wall of flames. Jerrod could feel the heat rising around him as well. He struggled to open his eyes to see what was happening, but could only make out a bright orange blur. Knowing that the end for him and his family had come, Jerrod closed his eyes once more, allowing the visions of his family’s death fill his head with anger and hatred and blocking the searing of the flames lapping at his body. Then, just as Jerrod was about to give in to the pain, a voice filled his head where the visions had once been.

“Get up,” the voice said, “get up and fulfill your true destiny.”

"There it is again." The hunter stood from his crouched position behind a wall in a shelled house, He turned his head towards where he had felt a psycher, he as a witch hunter, out to slay the heretics and mutant beasts that soiled humanity, he was branded a traitor and was being hunted himself, but had succesfully faked his own death, he was now free to fight the way he felt was neccesary, fire with fire, he had let his psychic powers develop so that he could hunt down and destroy other psychers, but this one was particularily strong, and evil, he could sense it's intense hate and power from sucha distance, he could also sense that it was trying to influence a younger and as yet un-developed psycher, he was weak too, physically. "I must find and destroy them both, but the young one isn't strong enough to get a location on, I must be patient." The hunter moved across the street, hiding in a second bombed out house. this time he found a reletivly intact fridge turned on it's side and sat down on it, to wait, for a second surge of energy from one of the psychers.

After spending weeks in Nascent, the Sith Marauder finally found what she had been searching for...

A Force Adept...


The soldiers manning the checkpoint lower their weapons towards the lone, black cloaked firgure approaching them. "Halt. Identify yourself!" They barked at the figure.

Nearing, the figure raises its head just enough for the bottom portion of her decidedly feminine face to be seen. She speaks, making a short wave motion with her hand. "I may pass as I please."

The soldiers immediately draw up their guns, returning them to a rest position. "My apologizes, ma'am. You may pass as you please."

She continues pass them, then stops. "You never saw me." She says, then contniues. The soldiers continue to stand watch, not seeming to notice the woman in the black robe.

Methodically, she traveled through the city of Kettleton, her pace and saunter very eased, in no hurry or rush.

Ahead, just another block or two, a house was set fire to, and mere minutes later, a triplet of government vehicles rush by. The government was still entrenched in battle against the rebel forces, but with her assistance, the rebels would yet prevail...

Ah. I'm getting ahead of myself, aren't I now? She smirked, as she came to the burning building. Here... She reached out, feeling for the boy, and finding him. He was in pain!

She quickly touched his mind, speaking to him through the Force. "Get up! Get up and fulfill your true destiny!"

"Come to me. Your destiny awaits outside..."

“Come to me. Your destiny awaits outside…”

No matter how hard Jerrod tried, he could not block the woman’s voice from his mind. “Just leave me alone,” he yelled out, “Just let me die!”

Still the voice did not stop, the words echoing through his mind. Finally giving in to the voice, Jerrod struggled to his feet. His clothes had all but burnt off of his body; his tennis shoes had melded onto his feet, making every step he took agonizing. He steadied himself against a wall while he made his way to the front door, the woman’s voice still echoing in his head. When he had finally made his way to the door he grabbed the handle with his hand and turned the knob, but when he pushed on the door nothing happened. “Great,” he thought to himself, “how am I supposed to fulfill my destiny when I can’t even leave a burning building?”

Just as Jerrod was about to give up, the door flew open on its own, sending in a flood of sunlight and air. Confused, Jerrod walked outside, the smoke from the house making it hard to see more than a few feet in front of him. In the distance he could hear the wails of the emergency response team coming to put out the flames that had been meant to kill him. Suddenly Jerrod’s legs gave out, sending him towards the pavement and hitting it hard, nearly knocking the boy out. Instead of trying to get up, Jerrod just lay there not able to move. He was exhausted and he was badly burnt on his legs and back. His eyes became extremely heavy as the weight of recent events finally settled in on him, but before they had closed completely, Jerrod saw the outline of a figure, a woman, standing next to him. With his last ounce of strength, he raised his arm, and tried speaking, but all he could manage sounded more like a moan than words before he fell into a world of darkness.

A puzzled look quickly ran across the hunters features. "The young one's signature is gone. Strange, well he's either dead or unconscious." He stood and headed down the street, his weapons easily concealed, he had decided that the best way to find the psychers was to wander if he got closer the signal would get stronger.

Darth Visas had deliberately not moved to help the boy. The injuries he'd sustain trying to get out would leave very bad burn scars. These scars would serve him well, a constant reminder of what had been done to him. They would let him see the festering hatred within himself, grant him the drive to seize that hatred and turn it into power.

Ultimately, the scars would assist in sumberging him fully into the Dark Side.

She watched as he sub-consciously uysed the Force to tear the door open, then stumbled, before collasping. She moved near him, and with the last of his strength, reached a hand towards her, before finally slipping into unconscioussness.

Sighing, she stooped next to him, scooping his tiny body in her arms. That's when she felt it. The Interloper... He is near... I will have to teach this interloper a lesson later. She said, shrouding her presense in the Force with shadows and mis-direction. Any attempt to find her through the Force would be fruitless. When she was to deal with the Interloper, she'd make her presense known to him...

With the boy in her arms, Darth Visas fled the area, moving to a safe location where the boy could rest, regain his strength, and prepare for his path to the Dark Side....


The building she came to was a rather run-down wharehouse in the industerial district of Keetleton. The manager's office in the back of the wharehouse was a perfect place for her to lay the boy. The desk in the office was built into the wall, and wasn't removeable. She laid him on the hard surface, quickly glancing over him to ensure that he had suffered nothing terribly disabling.

Once satisified that nothing would hamper his progress to the Dark Side, Darth Visas took a few steps back, then sat cross-legged on the floor, going into a meditative state, waiting for the boy to come to...


((OOC: Hab-Bubble, I'm not ignoring you. Just, if you want to fight Darth Visas, you'll have to wait a little while. Mmkay? I still wanna RP with you, just not quite yet. Don't get discouraged! ^_^))

OOC S'all good.

IC: "Huh apperently they're both dead or too far away for me to detect, I guess I'll head home and wait for a new assignment." The hunter quickly turned on his heels and walked away, passinga burning house with a mother and child infront, ignoring the woman who was shrouded with cloth and the badly burned boy he walked briskly to the train station.

OOC: Sorry for taking so long to reply, Ive been busy and havent really gotten a chance to write anything.

IC: It was several days before Jerrod regained consciousness, but once he had, his body had already healed itself, leaving his body badly scarred, but for what he had gone through this was to be suspected. Large portions of his back and legs had been nearly completely covered by the scars, and the path the soldier with the knife had carved into Jerrod’s face had been preserved, starting on his forehead, cutting across his eyelid and over the bridge of his nose, stopping just below his cheek bone. Both of his eyes had swollen almost completely shut, staying open barely enough for Jerrod to make out the silhouettes of people and items against sunlight the provided the only illumination for the small room he was in.

Jerrod slowly turned his head, trying to make out his surroundings. The only thing he saw was the door that led out of the room. Still somewhat disoriented, Jerrod rolled off of the desk, his body smacking against the hard tile floor of the room. He struggled to pick himself up off of the ground by using the desk that had served as his bed, but his strength had not yet been fully returned to him and he collapsed to the floor, his chin striking the edge of the desk on his way down. Feeling defeated Jerrod lay on the floor and began to cry for his family, and for his weakness.

Before long the sounds of footsteps could be heard from the other side of the building, causing Jerrod to stop crying and try to turn his body so that he was facing the doorway. Jerrod began twisting and turning his body, flailing his arms and legs around, trying to spin his body around. When this did not work, Jerrod tried using his arms to push him, but his arms were still too weak and succeeded in nothing but aggravating Jerrod more. The footsteps had stopped sometime ago and now all Jerrod could hear was the faint laughing coming from the doorway. It was the voice that had told him to escape the burning house, or at least he thought it was.

“Who are you, and why have you brought me here,” Jerrod tried to yell, but really only managing a loud whisper.

He waited for a reply, but when all he heard was the laughing of the woman, he became angry. His body began to warm, feeling as though it had been lit on fire once more. Every muscle in his body tensed causing the veins in his body to raise the skin, making Jerrod’s body look more like a road map. Jerrod clenched his fists and smashed them against the floor, and using all the strength he could gather, pushed himself from the floor and stood up. However, doing so drained Jerrod of nearly all of his energy and before he could brace himself against the desk, he fell to the floor once and passed out, allowing images of darkness to overwhelm his weakened mind.