Gui Sol

Equite 4, Clan Odan-Urr, Jedi, Sentinel
243
Total Fiction Activities
51
Regular Fiction
19974 words in 28 activities
Run-Ons
926 words in 1 post and 1 activity
Roleplaying
11716 words in 20 activities
Displaying fiction activity reports 41 - 50 of 51 in total
Competition
[COU-PLA Phase 2] Fiction - Duel of the Fates
File submission
We Meet Again.pdf
Textual submission

Tisto

Competition
[COU-PLA Phase 1] Fiction - Song and Stories
Textual submission

Haiku

Desired

The desired one

Mysterious to the closed

Minds must be open

To unlock contents

Hidden deep within the stone

Listen to the dreams

Competition
[GJW XIV Phase I] Fiction - The Old Tongue
Textual submission

The Old Tongue
Format - Free Verse

DESCRIPTION

A code cylinder of ancient design. Carved out of bone. This archaic piece has an assortment of ancient sith words carved into it and is still tinted with an ink that may very well be blood. The handles are black in coloration and red pieces of fabric, giving way to age, adorn them. The roller itself is hand-carved and the words appear to be randomly placed. However, upon proper alignment through Force divination and when the cylinder is saturated and then rolled onto a parchment, the words are ordered into what can best be described as a prophetic vision of a future plague snuffed out by a 'Maverick'.

When the stars align
A man bearing a sign
Of war and endless blight

Shall enter our world
Shaking our core
Like the quakes of mysteries might

Death shall come in the night..

Eyes are focused
A mouth consumes like the locust
Devouring the Force with a bite

He comes like wrath
Spilling blood for a bath
To wash the Force from his sight

Visions of seven
Crippling the brethren
Of guilds made of metal and bone

Darkness ascending
This tale is unending
A Maverick sits on an iron throne

(4224) Gui Sol

Competition
[GJW XIV Event Long] Fiction - The Tragedy of Darth Panda the Pantsless
Textual submission

A black mane with streaks of grey was tidily combed back and an Officer uniform was worn with straight seams and polished buttons. The man known as Howlader was the image of perfection and refinement until a yawn severed his focus.

"Do I bore you Sergeant?" His superior spoke with grit and discontent. "Perhaps you'll wake up in the mines of Kessel?"

The Sergeant merely shrugged his shoulders and stared blankly. "Nah, probably not."

For a long time he felt special and placed himself on a pedestal. Something stirred within, his reflexes, despite his burdening fatigue, were sharp.

"What did you say to me?"

"Sorry, I meant to say, probably not. Sir?" He grinned as his yawn faded. He had little respect for the man barking orders. For his 'superior' was merely a pawn without any combat experience. He was a wet noodle, a green-horn with good academic scores.

"If it wasn't for your piloting skills and sharp dress, you'd be out of here!" He knew that Howlader was held in high regard and viewed as an asset. In essence, he was becoming untouchable.

"What about now?" Howlader smirked, dropped his pants and tussled his hair. "Pants don't make the man, nor does ass kissing your way into leadership roles. A role you're currently just playing at."

The men in line shifted their attention to their comrade and their jaws dropped.

"Maybe I'll take that position from you, sir." He added, delivering a sarcastic salute that caused his superior's blood to boil.

Even as starships departed their designated pads and the world around them proceeded without a flicker, the world of the ranking Officer slowed to a crawl as he forced the lump in his throat down with a gulp.

"Stand down, Sergeant!"

"Stand up, Commander. Be a man!" Shouted the pantsless one. "Were at war and you want to run drills from that brand new datapad of yours?!"

"I, I-"

"I'll fight this whole war, as I stand." Howlader yawned again. "But you have to give me those bars." He growled, jabbing the Commander in the chest with his index finger.

"How dare y-"

"Eh, shut up." Howlader continued as the men surrounding him became riled with rebellion and flocked to the man they wanted to fly with, fight with, die with.

Shouts and jeering filled the courtyard as the men grabbed the Commander and forced him to his knees.

"This is my armada now." Spoke Howlader as that familiar energy lifted his soul with torrents of energy.

With two fingers, Howlader plucked the bars from the sniveling Commander's breast coat and pinned it to his own disheveled uniform.

"Send him to Kessel." Howlader sneered and threw his arms into the air. "To war!"

"But sir, your pants." One of the men pointed.

Howlader burst out into laughter before shifting into a steely gaze.

"A promise is a promise, ensign."

Newfound loyalty was found that day and Howlader stayed true to his word. His men would follow him to hell and back. Not because he was an Officer. But because he was one of them. It didn't matter what one looked like, only that they had the balls to stand up and face off with the status quo.

Competition
[GJW XIV Phase I] Fiction - In Opposition
Textual submission

[Option 2] Purge The Platform

Breakthrough, thought the Ongree bigot as his feet touched down on the Nesolat Platform. The Collective had delivered a surprise, soul shattering blow to Brotherhood forces that had left a hole in their defenses. Not the kind that the Doctor was used to patching, rather, one that he could exploit.

"My lord, Oligard," his oddly shaped mouth wheezed within his custom-fitted security armor, "At this rate, the brain of the Brotherhood will belong to the Collective in no time."

"Splendid!" came a hazy reply, "I knew I could count on you!"

The praise tingled Rakkas' narcissistic spine and filled him with an overabundance of confidence as he took up his shield and pointed to one of the platforms entrances with his blade.

"Go!" He shouted and out of the shuttle a group of Hive Marines, in unison, jettisoned from the vessel. "Don't kill them all, I need two of these specimens, alive. Bring them to me." His eyes rotated on their stalks as he flipped a dead body over onto its back with the sole of his boot. "Vile."

Like a wave of destruction the Collective forces washed over the platform. Turbolasers and blaster fire seemed to be as numerous as the stars as Rakkas stalked forward with his trademark limp, only to freeze as he heard a familiar hum coming from behind. The wily Doctor was trained to recognize the energetic moan of Lightsabers and if he had lips, a smile would have creased his face.

Atlast, he thought as he charged forward, crossing the threshold of the entrance as the hum grew louder behind him, sealed inside as his blade lashed out at the control panel rendering it useless in a cascade of sparks.

"You've made a fatal error in thinking I would be an easy target." The Ongree turned to face the sound. "Magnificent, I'll give you that." He hissed, eyeing the fierce red blade of a young Human. "Are you a student?" Rakkas asked, his words were poison. "Or something more?"

The young Human was clearly a novice as he fanned his blade and flashed an arrogant smile that had failed to impress the Doctor as intended, an inexperienced rush would follow.

As the Human slid forward and lunged, Rakkas saw the attack from various angles and took advantage of the strongest weakness he perceived. A side step allowed him to easily dodge the lightsaber and with his shield, he smashed into the Human's over extended elbow. The Novice growled in pain and dropped his weapon as the shield shifted and swept his legs.

The Ongree smelled a fresh kill and really couldn't stop himself as his hatred guided his blade through the neck of the fallen, the floor becoming a chopping block. The blonde-haired head rolled and the Doctor scoffed at the ease at which he dispatched his foe.

"Surely someone here will offer a challenge. What are the Force Sensitive cretins learning here?"

The towering creature pushed deeper inside the facility, following piles of bodies left in the wake of his Marines' bloody advance. His eyes rotated within his helmet as he saw rows of unattended archives. A sense achievement welled up inside him as the secrets of the Brotherhood, the Sith, the Force were at his disposal.

Collective troops collected their spoils, what they deemed valuable data, and destroyed the rest. An evacuation sequence triggered, the Academy forces were pulling back, undoubtedly because they were caught off guard and feeling somewhat defenseless.

"Take what you can, we will destroy this facility once and for all." The doctor shouted into his comm-link. A "Yessir," was the only necessary response from those wading into the fray with him.

"Lord Oligard himself will be arriving shortly, he'll want to see this personally."

"See what, sir?"

"The schematics to every Brotherhood facility, their infrastructure, military strategies, the very life-blood of our enemy."

Competition
A New Haiku
Textual submission

Hope has been restored
The Galaxy will find peace
The Force will guide you

Gui Sol
PIN: 4224

Competition
Kidnapped! [Fiction]
Textual submission

Manually added by Warden Aurora "Aura" Ta'var

Competition
The One That Got Away
Textual submission

Lost Sol

The past few years of Gui's life had been a turbulent set of circumstances, all outside of his realm of control. Once a young and aspiring Jedi of Odan-Urr, his future and aspirations had become muddled by the currents of change.

Bells and whistles spontaneously broke the silence of his reflection as Barry, his PIT droid pointed at the Treasure-Hunter's Navcomputer.

"Alright, alriiiight," Gui responded with irritation. "I'm aware. Just leave me alone." Acting out of character, the look on the Kid's face was somber as was his attitude.

The door to the cockpit sealed behind the tiny droid as it stormed away. If it were able to feel emotion, chastisement would've been what it felt and would be the most accurate word to use for the sake of description.

"I didn't mean-" Gui growled. "What does it matter anyway?" He questioned himself. He had grown and learned much from the Jedi of his Clan. He had even been recently charged with the guidance and protection of the younglings. The wise Masters felt that making him the Rollmaster would teach him the much needed lesson of patience he was in dire need of learning. But to Gui, he felt out of place. He was destined to be a Sentinel, a warrior, a champion of the light. Now he was tasked with wiping the noses of younglings and slapping their wrists when they made mistakes. The Knights of Allusis taught him to be more.

"They're gone," Gui sniffled as he traced his bare fingertips over a piece of metal that showed signs of carbon scoring. It was a piece of what was once a door to the training courtyard of New Tython's temple. Psychometry pointed out the things the Kiffar wanted to forget, but in keeping the scrap, he was able to look into the faces of those who fell in the wake of Lord Pravus' bloody reign. He was able to see their faces and hear their lessons once more. To feel their memory.

A single tear streaked down his face and in the midst of the chaos rampaging throughout his mind he found comfort in reciting the Jedi Code.

"I miss them all so much." He whispered in a hushed tone. "They all meant the world to me. Even when my own mother abandoned me, they were there." Anger started to well up inside as he threw the piece of scrap as hard as he could against the bulkhead across from him. "Where are they now?!" He shouted, falling back into his seat.

He wiped the tears with the back of his hand and then flipped one of his long dreads out of his face. In doing so, his hand made contact with his Aureate Hair-Clasp. A gift from his father, and he could still hear his voice.

"You'll never be alone, my son."

Gui's eyes slammed shut as he heard the voice of his father.

"As long as you have this," Gui replayed the gifting of the Hair-Clasp in his mind. "I'll always be with you. Now, go with Liam. He is wise and good, he will show you how to be a better man than I ever could. You're going to be a Jedi, Gui!"

Those words used to mean something to the young Kiffar, but now he felt alone in a Galaxy filled with people. His heart was empty and his soul felt hollow.

"Barry!" Gui, shouted to his little droid. "Turn the ship around. I need to speak to the Council, this darkness is scaring me!"

A sharp whistle resonated from beyond the durasteel hatch and the ship slowed and turned on a dime before creasing the void in the blink of an eye.