#ardentglare

send an emoji to learn how good/bad my muse is at that particular skill

🍳 — cooking

Ehhh. She’s very good at basic things like noodles or sandwiches.

🔫 — long range weapons

Not very good at all. She’s not patient enough for them.

🍺 — alcohol tolerance

lord huron sentence starters.

        the finalizer is dead silent save for beeps and a distant whir of doors opening, the occasional thump on floors as stormtroopers march down winding corridors. the duffel bag is hauled over his shoulder, essentials shoved inside along with wrapped up food for a long journey ahead of him. all his money shoved into a pocket of his robes. he sets out from his quarters, skin crawling.

       it’s too much. it’s all too much. the war and everything that comes with it. the night prior he had a dream about the day he and ben solo kylo ren brought about the end of those they called their brothers and sisters, their friends and, to an extent, their family. the screams echoed in his ears, terrified faces in his mind. children his age and even younger dropping dead to the ground.

       then the victims that came later. followed by the instance where he retrieved the scar marring his face, where a stormtrooper burnt and dead fell to the ground before him, the one who took the full brunt of the explosion set off from his misstep. he remembered his parents’ faces, and then he thought he heard them crying and asking him what had happened to their dear child.

       the hangar is oddly empty. only a few troopers crossing the expanse, no one really giving him a second thought. they must think he’s just on some routine mission for intel. no one stops him, asks him questions, and he moves to his little ship. the ramp slides downwards, he begins making his way inside when—

       “if you’re leaving, i gotta know why.”

       he freezes, blood running cold. the last thing he wanted was for a fellow knight to catch him. especially leva. he doesn’t want to explain, doesn’t want her to watch him go. but perhaps he’d rather leave with her face fresh in his mind. even so, the memories of each victory, laugh, argument replay in his head. shining eyes, little smiles, embarrassed blushes. andacis turns, slowly, to find leva having moved only a foot behind him.

       “i—…” he doesn’t know what to say. would she think him weak for leaving? because he can’t take it anymore? andacis stares, sadly, reaches out and sees her tense as his fingertips brush against her cheek. a shaky inhale taken, he leans forward and draws her into an embrace like he’s done so many times before. inky black hair stroked slowly, he draws back only after pressing a firm kiss to her forehead. “sorry, leva. i’m not as strong as you thought i was.”

       there’s a lump in his throat. “i’m not going to the resistance. i don’t— don’t know where i’m going, actually. but it’s gonna be far away. please don’t come looking for me.” vision is growing bleary. andacis doesn’t let himself cry. leva reaches out, brows furrowed, and he shies away.

       “i’m sorry. i love you, leva. you know that. and— tell him i love him, too.”

       andacis doesn’t hear her response, doesn’t see her expression because he turns away fast and walks quickly into the ship. the ramp slides into place, locking itself so it does not open during the trip. the droid in the corner is activated, he tosses his bag aside, then settles in the pilot’s seat.

When Plo Koon arrived on this planet, he made an effort to conceal the fact he was a Jedi, making certain his lightsaber was well hidden beneath his cloak, and to show no sign of having a connection to the Force. He did all this mainly because he wasn’t certain of whether or not a Jedi would be accepted on this planet, and honestly, the only reason he was even on this planet was because it was as far as the transport shuttle he had been on could take him with the credits he had left. His primary objective was to find a way to make contact with the Resistance, since when he asked about the Republic on the shuttle, a passenger had scoffed and insisted a faction of some sort called the Resistance would be a better contact than the Republic, claiming it to be a lost cause, which made the Kel Dor fear the Republic he once fought for was now in the tight grip of the Sith. 

So now here he was, in a crowded cantina, looking for somewhere to sit and simply listen to the room, find out who would be the best person to ask about the Resistance. He managed to find a seat at the far end of the bar, right next to a woman whose face was concealed by a black hood which appeared to go along nice with the black dress she was wearing. So as he took his seat next to her, he gave her a friendly nod and almost in an instant the Jedi was focused on getting a feeling for the environment around him. 

While there wasn’t much to really get a feel of, he did pick up on a darkness in the environment, a darkness he was very familiar with for he had felt it in the likes of Asajj Ventress, and he felt it within the woman he was sitting next to. He decided to investigate, but with caution, if this woman did indeed have connections with the dark side, who knows if she may have agents planted around the area. So he shifted his gaze over to her, and decided to start things off a bit casually, hoping to try and ease into conversation about the state of the galaxy, perhaps even about the Republic and the Resistance.