Zola
Knight of the Obsidian Order
Location: Dathomir, deep in the forest
Perhaps trudging through the forests of Dathomir by herself wasn't the smartest thing that Jemmila Kyrgen had ever done, but being on the edge of a mental breakdown, caused a woman to do some pretty odd things. After losing her relationship with her younger sister who had all but abandoned her to join the Jedi Order, Jem had been flirting with disaster. She and her sister were close, almost obsessively so and the absence of the other woman in her life had left a seemingly endless void that sex and alcohol just didn't fill. The young Hapan woman needed to clear her head and what better way to lose herself in the deep, dense fog of the woods with some cigarettes, alcohol and spice.
Dressed in a long army-green trenchcoat, draped over a man's black suit, with combat boots on her feet, she aimlessly walked, swigging directly from the bottle and blowing a generous amount of smoke out of the side of her lips. Jem liked the way her boots sunk down into the swampy mud, the wet earth beckoning to her to descend. As the forest got deeper and wetter, she felt a dark energy stirring inside her, a strange sensation that seemed to intensify as the surrounding fog began to cloud around her. As the path in front of her became more hazy, eventually she lost sight of the path and merely followed the trail of her own cigarette smoke.
[member="Isley Verd"]
Perhaps trudging through the forests of Dathomir by herself wasn't the smartest thing that Jemmila Kyrgen had ever done, but being on the edge of a mental breakdown, caused a woman to do some pretty odd things. After losing her relationship with her younger sister who had all but abandoned her to join the Jedi Order, Jem had been flirting with disaster. She and her sister were close, almost obsessively so and the absence of the other woman in her life had left a seemingly endless void that sex and alcohol just didn't fill. The young Hapan woman needed to clear her head and what better way to lose herself in the deep, dense fog of the woods with some cigarettes, alcohol and spice.
Dressed in a long army-green trenchcoat, draped over a man's black suit, with combat boots on her feet, she aimlessly walked, swigging directly from the bottle and blowing a generous amount of smoke out of the side of her lips. Jem liked the way her boots sunk down into the swampy mud, the wet earth beckoning to her to descend. As the forest got deeper and wetter, she felt a dark energy stirring inside her, a strange sensation that seemed to intensify as the surrounding fog began to cloud around her. As the path in front of her became more hazy, eventually she lost sight of the path and merely followed the trail of her own cigarette smoke.
[member="Isley Verd"]
