Thread: A New Queen for a Chief {darkest_Fate&Jack Stalker}

As the two men roughly grabbed Emma, her brow furrowed. A protest rose and died on her lips as she looked up at them. She recognized neither. True, often white people, particularly Europeans or, worse, Americans, would say that all black people looked the same. Same features, same build, etc. But Emma had never been one of those. She knew what the villagers looked like, particularly after spending a few days working with them. Even if she hadn't, Emma had studied enough about the area to recognize renegades that likely belonged to one of the local warlords. She'd heard about a handful that were taking control over the area, though she'd been assured, they all had been, that none would interfere with their efforts. Humanitarian aid rarely drew too much negative attention, even when there were cameras and famous people involved. Logically a warlord wouldn't want to draw international attention to himself, and targeting a group would do that. Targeting a group that included a celebrity? Suicidal, surely. None of that logic changed reality. Emma forced herself to relax as they escorted her toward the tent. She fought to keep calm as she entered, finding not the leader she'd seen before, but an imposing, domineering black man. He had to loom at least a foot over Emma's relatively petite five five, and his arms were nearly as big around as the petite actress's torso. He'd have been intimidating even if he hadn't had an automatic firearm nearby, or several guards. Emma felt her heart speeding up, panic settling in, telling her that she was quickly becoming another statistic. Her hope lay in cooperation, and in the hope that perhaps he'd just want the supplies or some wealth. At this point, she'd almost settle for ransom, since that generally meant leave the hostage unharmed. The actress tried to meet his gaze as he removed his glasses, though she couldn't quite hide her trembling. As he asked her name, she gave a short nod, though Emma already knew better than to say something, to interrupt. She knew what these people would be like, and she could already tell that Tyrese in particular was someone who liked being obeyed. It galled her, but she knew she had to do it, at least for now. Though her heart dropped as he explained... the name did sound familiar, as a particularly strict but oddly fair warlord known throughout this region. She'd been told he'd leave them alone. Clearly whoever told her that had been wrong. Those are for-- she started, only to stop herself, partially as a guard gave her a slightly surprised look, partially because Tyrese continued. Emma looked back, a protest rising and dying on her pretty pink lips. She knew they'd been invited by someone . There had always been a chance the goods would be confiscated by a local warlord, but... well, Emma had been hopeful. They all had. Yet there one sat, smiling like he owned the world, passing instructions and threats with equal casualness. Fortunately Emma knew how to follow direction, and she was smart enough to realize that he meant it. She almost fell to her knees, wincing slightly as her bared flesh hit the rough floor below. she waited until he'd finished, waiting for her answer, before talking I apologize, General Krutanga, came out first, the actress knowing it was precisely what he'd want to hear. I was under the impression we had gotten permission to come here. We truly are just here on a mission of humanitarian aid. Our goal is simply to help these people, your people, to live a better life. I'm here to do that, and to pass along what Im doing so that other people might be inspired to do the same. We do not wish to interfere with your business or--or anything, she stumbled there at the end, fear starting to make her tremble. There was just something so... so imposing about this man, that hit her deep inside, deeper than she cared to admit.