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Scherezade deWinter

Scherezade deWinter

Member Since 20 Jan 2018
Online Last Active Today, 01:01 AM
*****

The Dance of Fifteen Blades

08 May 2019 - 03:43 PM

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Citadel

Golbah City

Geonosis

Little after dawn

 

Scherezade didn't do much of the sleep thing these days. While it was true that she was no longer chased by the Darkness in her dreams, she still felt a gigantic discomfort with the whole being unconscious thing. Sleep never felt safe to her, not since the day she was broken out of the pebble, and it continued to feel unsafe without a Shield of Darkness to give her some sanity on the matter. Yet where her heart had for so long bled at the thought of that, there was now a certain numbness. It was not a scar, not yet, but the wound was closing. Sometimes she wondered if it would ever truly heal.

 

She had woken up long before dawn, fretting around her little kitchen to prepare more of her air dried sausages, before taking her Loth Wolf Baal on a morning run. They'd returned just as the sun was rising, but there was still no rest inside of her. Running from mission to mission, doing double, sometimes triple work, on top of other obligations she had and was counting down to when they would be over, the idea of having a few days off was entirely foreign to her, and was enough to cause anxiety.

 

So she'd packed a bag full with her weapons and blades, and headed to the Citadel. At that hour, there were very few organics there anyway, which means she could pick the training room of her choice. Quickly enough, she found her favorite one; the last one down the hall. It was small, and offered less options than some of the bigger training rooms, but she liked the intimacy of it, the privacy of it. To find it taken by others on occasion almost felt like she was getting trespassed.

 

Not bothering with the door, Scherezade set the area up. Bullseyes floated all around the room, and she closed her eyes, balancing one of her Czerka Knives in her hands. She didn't even have to look anymore. All it took was just focusing, and throwing.

 

Her first Knife hit the bull's eye right in the center. As did the ten that followed it.

 

She called it warm up.

 

 

Isadora Lycinius

 


Hunting the Fallen

07 May 2019 - 06:08 AM

Scherezade stared at the planet as her ship broke through atmosphere. It was another one of those missions she'd taken up in the hopes of improving her personal record. There was a lot to atone for after too many things had happened, and once again she found herself in a position in which she was over expanding and trying to make up for things she didn't necessarily have anything to do with. This mission was one that… Frankly, she had no personal care about. Jedi gone rogue, and all of that.

 

A group of them had deflected and turned shadow. While maintaining the claim that they were Jedi, they had kidnapped various people and enslaved them. There were reports of abuse as well. Normally the Confederacy did not prioritize these things; not as a whole, anyway. But this group had been working with the Confederacy in the past, helping them rebuild on Monastery. It was personal to the Confederacy this time, and this was why the group had been tracked to Trenwyth.

 

So Scherezade had been assigned along with Executor Taramaz Laurs. For all intents and purposes, she would appear as a Knight Obsidian Pathfinder on his records as well as on the mission statement, since only those of high enough clearance would know she was in truth part of the Ministry of Secrets now.

 

Her meet up point with the Executor was planned to happen several minutes from now, a few miles off from where the Jedi base was. They'd have to treck on foot for a few miles before actually finding them. And the mission this time? No mercy. It was going to be a bloody massacre.

 

Scherezade parked her ship, and waited for her mission partner to either arrive or make his presence known. They were going to have fun.


Mutual Whines

06 May 2019 - 04:02 PM

Scherezade was hungry. She was not used to actually feeling it so acutely; yet in between running from mission to mission, some of them being with the Knights Obsidian to keep the act up and some of them being for the Ministry of Secrets, between running from classroom to classroom to do her community service to fulfill the sentence she'd gotten instead of getting beheaded, and between… All her personal projects, she was tired. But more so – she had no time to hunt, and she hated buying food for the fridge, so… Cafeteria it was.

 

As such, she found herself sitting there right there and then, with a bowl of brown sludge in front of her. Of all the things she'd done in her year and a half of existence, eating that was probably the biggest one that was making her question all her life choices up until that moment. Scherezade was sort of certain that there was meat in there, but there was no way to guess what meat it was, how long ago it was slaughtered, or what the heck they had cooked it in.

 

Making a face, the Sithling pushed the bowl aside and rose to go back to the food buffet. Sure there had to be something better that she could eat there? Otherwise she'd have to go look for restaurants, and… Frankly, there were better places to eat out on than Geonosis. Even if the Viceroyalty would swear up and down that this was not the case.

 

Kaross


Feedback: Scherezade deWinter

26 April 2019 - 07:07 AM

I started writing Scherezade about a year and a bit ago. With over 180 threads (the tracker is a few days outdated), most of my post count being IC, and managing to write in threads with a whole bunch of people (though it's never enough), I think I'm ready to receive critique and feedback on the character.

 

You can find her bio, thread tracker, and more, here.

 

How can I improve her? What are her weak points? What might be interesting to explore with her?

 

Stage's yours :)

 

Character TLDR; she's gone from being an innocent kid out of the pebble, to loose canon, to being betrayed, to becoming a drunkard, to attempting to undo her existence, to coming back, and is still far from her "who and what am I" arch. But after so many threads, it'd be nice to get some input :)


Memories of Blood without Language

26 April 2019 - 12:38 AM

Geonosis. The planet where Scherezade was most commonly found on when she was not busy doing missions for the Knights Obsidian or the Ministry of Secrets. More than anything, it was a habit at this point. A point to which to return to, where everything was known and was more on the safe side of things. Something that was… Stable, in a life that had so little of it no matter which angle you looked at it from.

 

It was something new. Prior to her sort of death, Scherezade had spent some time on the planet as her cheapest parking spot, but she hadn't actually known the planet beyond the dock yard and the Citadel. Things were different now. She had walked the streets of Golbah City so frequently and so often that she essentially knew it by heart at this point, knew the beat of the city, its pulse, where to find the best deals and where the poorest people were. She knew the different sectors by heart, and knew that the heart of the city lay not within them but in the sprawling neighborhoods just outside of them.

 

Against all odds and despite her hatred for the arid climate of the planet and city, Scherezade had come to love it in the weeks that had passed since her return from the space between dimensions.

 

And one spot – one spot was her favorite one, above all. She had stumbled onto it entirely by accident, its view hidden behind the dockyard of the Citadel. There was a small slummy neighborhood there, made up mostly of low-level organic workers and cleaners. Fences to separate it from the dockyard and citadel had been constructed, though for what reason, Scherezade was not certain, since the dockyard was large enough to put a whole lot of distance between the neighborhood and the dockyard.

 

But just behind there, in one special spot, was the abandoned playground. It had its own fence, which was grown over with pale yellow growth that she did not recognize, and she'd never seen a child there, never seen a couple of teenagers trying to hide from their parents. It was, effectively, a ghost playground.

 

Once she realized that it was as such indeed, she masterfully planted her Vita Stones around it, wanting to keep it safe, wanting to keep it… Sane.

 

And then it had become her playground. She could spent entire evenings and nights just sitting on the swings, letting them rock her gently back and forth. There was a unique sense of inner peace that she found while there. Not a complete one, but definitely a hue and a layer that she did not experience anywhere else.

 

And that was where she sat that evening, watching the sun set over the city's skyline as the swing took her back and forth in a lazy rhythm.

 

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Jenmae Ophiro