illuminator, progress

the Jedi Council's reformation on Dantooine and its immediate destruction, duly avenged by our General whom the Lord of Betrayal foolishly left alive.

(she fell to her knees, here - the two Masters to the ground, there and there and there. you retrace the footsteps and lunges, each trace back to its disturbance, inference for the rest.

"Milady, are you sure you wouldn't have any sort of paper trail? I've written and encrypted the report, but our keyring is a few major versions out of date.

The Sith trooper looks around the well-appointed office from behind a mirrored faceplate. "Also, thank you for the... anonymization measures? But this helmet will go with my kit."

"Indeed, so be it. Your mother has asked after you, but Setesh Rahel’s death is otherwise unquestioned. Well done, dispatching that vagabond we sent you with! I was worried she might be here in tow with you.

Bastila, a martial woman of noble bearing, smiles indulgently. “I have worked with too many urchin magnets in my day." The trooper sets Traya's holocron on the table, her own helmet on the couch.

Under Sara’s eyes are slight dark circles, blue-tinged against the deep red of her skin. She sweeps her hair up in a high ponytail; a radial sigil is shaved behind her ear. “The Republic has most of its droid back. Logistics doesn’t need much specialized hardware, as I understand it.”

Bastila sighs. "Unfortunately, I'm sure Atton will clear things up for Ann eventually. But I'm glad you're taking an interest in Revan's former master."

Malachor’s skies are a perpetual swirl of grey and black. you are enraptured, when your shuttle engines explode upon touching a fork of neon-green.

a small constellation of Jedi prospects crawls upon the rocky terrain, lucky to have not landed in a chasm. someone may be screaming. heavy footsteps nearby cut through the wind.

one by one, you draw your training swords, each an identical synthetic bloodshine, left in bulk by nameless predecessors. amidst the fight, you are battered hard, left cowering -

something flings the oncoming monstrosity through the air before its claws catch you. the Master finishes the beast through its eye sockets, sparing the hide.

"You all have survived your first storm beast. Setesh, what have you learned by observing Harper?" you try to gauge Master Visas from the purse of her lips beneath the cropped velvet veil, slowly tightening.

“Jaal, I don’t get it. The Republic’s going to throw me out in a month, and I can’t get Mical to step in as my sponsor. He’s disbanded the whole Infinite Empire research program, you know?”

you can see Harper peripherally, playing at a smile, until a junior faculty saunters over. "Normally we do cull the storm beasts, but it's funnier to let them have the foolhardy students.

Mira frowns. “The older ones that couldn’t learn. Damn weather surprised us. Someone must’ve let the generator maintenance slide.”

“Darling, I did the analysis for him. Reading your papers was a delight, but these rubrics... the attenuation of the Force in proportion to ennui, historically demonstrated in the masters’ ‘loss of divine mandate‘ does not shift the needle, so to speak.”

“I wish I’d stuck to Mandalorian Studies. I mean, I can’t believe people are still fighting that war! But someone should at least read my field notes on the Vong. I can’t possibly publish...”

my apprentice loves me, loves me not. discard each petal of the three-thousand-years tetrahedron in turn. recall the cynosure’s wisdom.

"We're very lucky to have the cohort intact. The Order will remember Mira's sacrifice. Another Star Map seemed almost possible... damned savages."

SETESH: They fell upon us, dozens, the moment we got the interface working. Scouts, heavily scarified beneath keratinous growth. Some sort of armor? Strength-enhancing and lightsaber-resistant.

HARPER: They held snakes in their hands like staves. Whips, that lunge. If they weren't vulnerable even to explosive decompression, we'd be done.

"In the interviews, we've got conflicting versions of how they got to the shuttle."

SETESH: My air would've run out. She didn't have to... I...

HARPER: Mira was reviving Rahel, trying to get her up before we had to detonate. The warrior was all smashed, but its snake got her on the calf.

the wandering / the foreshadowing running from the scene / manic bloom dead inside / muse don't say a word / sonata arctica

1. our fragile conscience lies awaiting for a war what you're doing, what you do has the logic of a soldier

2. and then the pain i feel, the times i stray would be the slightest regret that i just push away

3. you can bring me back to life, on the outside you're ablaze and alive my skin is warm to caress, i'll control and hypnotize

4. mother always said my son, do the noble thing make me believe it, oh i know you lie

5. (then love-devouring life do what she dare) like fire and powder, which as they kiss consume

rise the fire hot as to freeze, by searing the nerves before they transmit. its wielder one who boasts truly, both drunken threats and dizzying dreams.

that they are inevitable ends justifies her difficult ends, the illuminator’s work. it is this progress by which rage produces fairness, and freedom defines good.

what if force powers all scaled off of different stats, like dungeon world splats, or han solo’s force-sensitivity? these sith power gauntlets could give their bonus to force wave and force crush

nameclaiming an Exile because I love this pun too much, and I can't be arsed to file my OC wank out of meta every time. since in-canon scribes (ignoring holocrons as a long-lasting audio record) would naturally produce variant spellings over, oh, 3k years:

mettia, pronomen (given/domestic), poorly-attested in the late republic, perhaps surviving among commoners sutekh, nomen (family), after the god of the desert, an usurper and a protector at turns ansegdniss, cognomen (epithet), old english supplanted by the latin for sacrifice

tria nomina can be taken to structure a nickname to reference (usu.) a campaign - so far, just Sith names, except formally recognized by a certain Republic. cf. @babedur's no-malachor!AU Tiniat Sol(eria), invoking cosmic poetry and the salt-sea dragon-goddess

canon!Exile is best ignored in the first place, granted, but could be admitted as an uncontroversial reading of history? if the 'immortal sith emperor' thing arose as pure morality play, first off Sidious happens anyway, and second off, what can we say by comparison to the Chiss histories and remaining Neo-Crusader sites?

some children grow up despite war. some do not escape, but grow with it.

(or, sabine uses the weapon of her exile against the empire. family supports family. also, ezra tries to help.)

Slight AU, named villain dies. Ezra enabling Sabine, and Ursa too. 753 words.

it's really not a disfigurement thing

(alteration brings out the original pattern in relief, doesn't crush but chrysalises! the corruptor doesn't understand)

it's just, the hagravens are honored elders, before they're senile

(so, was it before he promoted you? how long after we met did you decide to curse- don't tell me again, you didn't think it would be dangerous)

you helped me to commit the murder

I haven’t found a good way to eat the gods and keep my friends, either. I have some bad ones though? Seems more appropriate.

you could give safiya to one-of-many deliberately, and it’d go f* yeah that’s hilarious, until it realizes one day that she is not only conscious, but knows exactly how to take power amongst a flock of wolves.

it’s just like when the founder gave any spirit-eater ass before yours to akachi. someday, in an airless place-between-places -

accompanied only by your shadow, a spirit-husk wreathed with peacock-feathers and ram-horns, you hear its child’s lilt drop to a woman’s tones, their familiar measure turned to chaos. and she asks if akachi is free or your slave, now.

it’s all in place / the times i’ve known / gone a fool to rely on fate the diagrams i’ve drawn / someday you’ll wait / for the moment she appears

i know, i’ll be the one / be anyone, that you want

火鼠

masochistic, nihilistic / urging wrecked up thoughts let me tell you boy / about the lies i lead

atyn the radiant, support paladin (of vengeance), chasing a paragon. definitely not addicted to magic, as if her crossbow would hardly work without it.

(psa that neutral evil is the most chaotic neutral alignment)