Post #1591659 in The Wanderers, a roleplay on RPG

Snippet #1591659

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Badlands

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#2011-07-11 04:24:53, as written by onetrickpony

At this very opportune moment, yet another Legion soldier came galloping from the direction of the camp, a frail, bird-like girl trailing behind him like a a ragdoll flapping in the wind. One of her hands was gripped tightly by the soldier as he dragged her along at an impossible pace for her small legs, the other was tightly gripping a crown of dead flowers that she was attempting to keep on her head, even as the withered petals streamed behind her. He could be heard huffing and puffing agitatedly as he tried to aggressively explain, "Sorry we're late but this little bitch wouldn't sto--Oh shit, fuck, is that?" He thoughts interrupted by the sudden realization of just how opportune their sudden appearance was. He almost threw the girl's arm from him like it was diseased, reaching immediately for his gun holstered neatly on his hip. "Shit," he repeated, sweat dripping heavily from his face.

The young girl, however, seemed completely oblivious to the tension radiating from every body as if it were heat and the eyes no doubt dissecting her small form. She seemed more concerned with something in the direction of the camp. "But, but, but, but," she repeated over and over again, raising a thin, limp arm indicating their camp. At a first glance, her presence would have been quite perplexing. Her appearance was rather queer and out of place. Barely 12 years old, the battlefield hardly seemed like a place for a girl. A closer inspection gave no answers, only more questions. She wore a giant, navy blazer--perhaps her fathers? What kind of father would allow their daughter in an environment like this? It swallowed her wiry form and hung to her knees. Underneath, a thin white nightgown billowed in the dusty wind, yet it seemed saturated in something filthy. Mud or blood, or possibly a combination of the two. Army style combat boots, comically small, protected her tiny feet, while her black hair skewed any possible glimpse of her face. Her ragamuffin appearance was definitely a product of this desolate world, but this didn't explain the katana strapped to her back.

Her figure slumped in defeat, and her bottom lip seemed like it might be quivering. For a moment, it seemed as if she were going to burst out into tears.
"But--," she whispered hoarsely once more, her bewildering mantra, "I think they wanted to play," she finished. All at once, her head snapped up, and her strange "face" could be distinguished. She wore a mask, completely hiding her features but for her giant blue eyes which darted and skittered, searching desperately for a playmate. Her eyes flitted across everyone's anxious faces and landed on Luke. Ignoring all the others, she glided to his side and placed her small palm in his hand without looking at him a second time, instead, eyes fixing on distant enemies, imagining that they were no doubt discussing their plans in the same frantic manner that this small group was.

Snippet #1591659

located in Badlands, a part of The Wanderers, one of the many universes on RPG.

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