Difference between revisions of "Template:FocusRoleplay"

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{| class="mp2right" width="100%" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="5" style="vertical-align:top"
 
{| class="mp2right" width="100%" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="5" style="vertical-align:top"
! class="nounderlinelink mp2lefttitle" style="font-size:120%; border-width: 1px; border:1px solid #E8ECF4;background:#E8ECF4;-moz-border-radius:10px;padding:6px 6px 6px 6px;" | <center>'''''Focus Roleplay - December 2007'''''<br>
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! class="nounderlinelink mp2lefttitle" style="font-size:120%; border-width: 1px; border:1px solid #E8ECF4;background:#E8ECF4;-moz-border-radius:10px;padding:6px 6px 6px 6px;" | <center>'''''[[:Category:Focus Roleplay|Focus Roleplay]] - July 2012'''''<br>
'''[http://sw-fans.net/forum/showthread.php?t=16449 Years From Now...]'''</center>
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'''[http://sw-fans.net/forum/showthread.php?t=22750 Meanwhile, on Coruscant]'''</center>
 
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|}
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0 ABY[[Image:Moc.jpg|right]]
  
[[Image:SerenaOld.jpg|thumb|right|The wise Jedi Master Serena Laran]]
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Zizzy Starseed was shoplifting again. Dana Stryder cast the teenager a sideways look, the blue skinned Twi'leki lurking by the candy aisle wearing a canvas jacket three sizes too big for her skinny frame. Their eyes met briefly, and the thirteen year old alien girl quickly averted her gaze and walked briskly out of the store.
'''Characters:'''
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* [[Dasquian Belargic]], Chancellor of the Galactic Alliance
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* [[Salem Ave]], Emperor of the Galactic Empire
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* [[Grace Van-Derveld]], Director of Alliance Intelligence
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* [[Navaria Tarkin]], Jedi Master and Councilman
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* [[Sanis Prent]], Senator
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... and a cast of many more.
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[http://sw-fans.net/forum/showthread.php?t=16449 Years From Now...] is a Star Wars Role-Play unlike any other. Set over twenty years ahead of the current SW-Fans.Net storyline, the thread chronicles the outbreak of a virus - engineered by the malicious Imperial Executor [[Vega Van-Derveld]] - that threatens to throw the entire Galaxy into turmoil, turning the citizens of Coruscant into mindless zombies. As survivors try to escape the Core, the Masters of the Jedi Council and leaders of the Galaxy's political parties struggle to reach an agreement on how best to deal with the cataclysmic shift...
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Dana rubbed a hand gently over her bulging stomach, shuffling forward in line as the checker seemed to have fallen asleep while counting up change at the register. The shopping basket on her arm was beginning to drag her down toward the ground and she looked up with relief as it was lifted from her arm. "Oh, thahnk you Corrahn."
  
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Her husband leaned over and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Anything for the mother of my child," he teased, sorting through the contents of the basket before adding in a pack of stims.
  
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Dana frowned. "You sahd you were going to quit. The smoke..." She tapped her pregnant belly and added, "I know, you're going to smoke outside."
  
'''Sneak Peek'''
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"Yeah, yeah, I'm going to," Corran agreed, as they finally got to the checkstand. He started unloading the items onto the conveyer belt as the check-droid scanned and put them into bags. "And then I'm going to quit. I promise. Before our baby comes." He kissed her on the tip of her nose and gathered up the bags as she fumbled with a credit chit. The droid waited patiently for her to program the correct amount onto the chit, and then accepted it from her, pressing it into a slot on it's barrel-like body.
  
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"Have a good day, gentle beings," it said haltingly, and then turned to the next customer.
  
<blockquote>Rain lashed the shores of Orotoru G'am. Though the ocean-world of Dac – or Mon Calamari as it was more commonly known – was no stranger to storms, this particular torrent was putting all others to shame. It was Endor Day, the day that memorialized in the minds of the masses the losses sustained by both the Rebel Alliance and the Galactic Empire at the Battle of Endor. Twenty-two years later and the tides of war had still not subsided, only stilled a while in truce.<BR><BR>
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Dana hurried out into the afternoon twilight of Coco district, the manufacturing zone where she and Corran both worked. He was waiting outside, a stim already between his lips. She felt like scolding him, but sighed instead and took one of the thin plastic bags from him. "C'mon, let's go home."
  
To honor the memory of those who had been lost, on both sides, the Calamarian Council and chiefs of the Galactic Alliance had commissioned a number of additions to the Hall of Heroes, favoring these somber plaques over audacious parading and galas. Although the Alliance had made substantial gains on the Empire, establishing footholds throughout the Galaxy and winning the support of billions now free from Imperial disenchantment, it was far too early for celebration. The battle might have been over, but the war certainly was not.</blockquote>
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Corran grinned at her, that grin that made her weak in the knees and her heart skip a beat, and she found herself grinning back, despite the humidity of the day and her exhaustion. They were lucky to have each other, and luckier still to have jobs in Coco. Thankfully she looked human enough, but it was a matter of record that she was a quarter Balosarian. Having to live in Invisec, or, as the Empire liked to call it, the Alien Protection Zone, would be a nightmare. Here in Coco Town different species lived together in relative harmony, as long as everyone kept their heads down and no one rocked the boat.
  
- Bryna Belargic, [http://sw-fans.net/forum/showthread.php?t=16449 introductory post].
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The Stryders did not rock the boat.
 
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<noinclude>[[Category:Main Page Templates]]</noinclude>
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Latest revision as of 08:46, 9 July 2012

Focus Roleplay - July 2012
Meanwhile, on Coruscant
0 ABY
Moc.jpg

Zizzy Starseed was shoplifting again. Dana Stryder cast the teenager a sideways look, the blue skinned Twi'leki lurking by the candy aisle wearing a canvas jacket three sizes too big for her skinny frame. Their eyes met briefly, and the thirteen year old alien girl quickly averted her gaze and walked briskly out of the store.

Dana rubbed a hand gently over her bulging stomach, shuffling forward in line as the checker seemed to have fallen asleep while counting up change at the register. The shopping basket on her arm was beginning to drag her down toward the ground and she looked up with relief as it was lifted from her arm. "Oh, thahnk you Corrahn."

Her husband leaned over and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Anything for the mother of my child," he teased, sorting through the contents of the basket before adding in a pack of stims.

Dana frowned. "You sahd you were going to quit. The smoke..." She tapped her pregnant belly and added, "I know, you're going to smoke outside."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm going to," Corran agreed, as they finally got to the checkstand. He started unloading the items onto the conveyer belt as the check-droid scanned and put them into bags. "And then I'm going to quit. I promise. Before our baby comes." He kissed her on the tip of her nose and gathered up the bags as she fumbled with a credit chit. The droid waited patiently for her to program the correct amount onto the chit, and then accepted it from her, pressing it into a slot on it's barrel-like body.

"Have a good day, gentle beings," it said haltingly, and then turned to the next customer.

Dana hurried out into the afternoon twilight of Coco district, the manufacturing zone where she and Corran both worked. He was waiting outside, a stim already between his lips. She felt like scolding him, but sighed instead and took one of the thin plastic bags from him. "C'mon, let's go home."

Corran grinned at her, that grin that made her weak in the knees and her heart skip a beat, and she found herself grinning back, despite the humidity of the day and her exhaustion. They were lucky to have each other, and luckier still to have jobs in Coco. Thankfully she looked human enough, but it was a matter of record that she was a quarter Balosarian. Having to live in Invisec, or, as the Empire liked to call it, the Alien Protection Zone, would be a nightmare. Here in Coco Town different species lived together in relative harmony, as long as everyone kept their heads down and no one rocked the boat.

The Stryders did not rock the boat.