ʚ   A POSITIVITY MEME  :  Many folks in the RPC tend to ebb and flow when it comes to life, as does anyone. Whether it’s friends, writing partners, or just a safe place to create, let’s celebrate the positives!

🎁 : a mutual who’s a gift to the RPC

Okay, hear me out: I think the HoloNetDaily was truly a gift to the SWRPC; we all unclenched our butts and remembered to have fun with it. So @holonetdaily you're doing the work of the Jedi Order ty ♥

😭 : someone whose writing always hits you emotionally

⸻ ⛧ 𝘏𝘌 𝘐𝘚 𝘍𝘜𝘔𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘚𝘐𝘛𝘛𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘖𝘕 the chair, wrists bound and tied to the table before him. It's completely unfair ( actually, entirely fair given the laws ) to have been inappropriately ( appropriately ) arrested for trafficking kyber & selling it for profit. He wonders if they figured out his documentation was false or if the crime syndicates in Ord Mantell City had done a damn good enough job for him to be a true enough citizen of Ord Mantell in the Republic's eyes. Though he doesn't think that falsified identification was as much of a crime as the kyber. ( & neither the drug paraphernalia that was, at least, personal & not intended for resale & yet they took his lovely spice & pipe from his pockets as well )

He wonders how difficult it would be to escape from the Jedi Temple. Then again, if he had any decent means of escape he would have done so during the route to Coruscant. Surrounded by Jedi, he doubts that even slipping between stone or metal floors would only get him so far. ( damn, they took his knives too... he better get those back somehow ) He could make a knife out of the table, actually. It seemed metal enough. Casimir could already make out the shape of what he would make. It could have a nice curve at the end that would make it hurt worse when it came out⸻

Yet his thoughts are interrupted by the opening of the door to the interrogation room. It is... a small sort-of man. Casimir does not think he has seen such a person in his handful of years in the greater galaxy, but he supposed there was always room to be surprised. It-- he looked rather old, but how was he to really tell? It was another Jedi & they were, seemingly, all the same really. He has come to know of some of their ideals & he had never found one that he agrees with. It is one of the reasons he likes Ord Mantell anyway. Not much of a Jedi presence. Not like Coruscant.

He decides... not to greet his new captor. That since he was not offered the dignity of escape he would not offer anything or unintentionally incriminate himself. So as an act of defiance, he presses his lips together & diverts his gaze. Maybe when this was over, he could break out of his chains & slip through the door before it locks again. Perhaps this great Temple was made of enough stone to come crumbling down.

Send a location for a drabble! || Accepting

He’d been training for this. His whole life had led up to this moment. 

He’d made it. He’d actually made it. He’d made it through the war, made it through training, and now he was here.

He made it. 

Now he just had to get through it. 

Mind your breathing, he thought to himself. This isn’t a sprint, it’s a marathon. Outlast it. Easier thought than done, of course - this was brutal. He could feel sweat dripping down the back of his neck every time he parried. He felt the weight of exhaustion in his shoulders every time he struck. But he'd made it this far. He could go further. He would go further. He’s not giving up. Not when he’s so close. So close- Another parry. Another counter. An opening. Take it. Strike once, twice, three times. Follow up. Flick of the wrist, pivot, torque-

And his opponent is disarmed. 

His breath comes in heavy draws, and he swallows it down. Blinks against the stinging salt in his eyes. Holds his stance. Waits.

“That’s enough.” Master Windu says from his seat. Braig gives a quick duelling salute to his opponent, then extinguishes his sabers and returns them to his belt, turning to face the masters. Another measured breath in through his nose, hold for three, breathe out. Hold your posture, this is formal. At his side, he’s vaguely aware of his opponent collecting their weapon and stepping back. Their part in all of this is finished. His is about to be decided. He does his best to get a handle on his nerves, and, for the most part, he succeeds. He knows he gave his all in the trials; he couldn’t have done any better. He had been trained well, and he wouldn’t have been brought here if the masters didn’t think he was up for the task. He knows this… But it’s still somewhat intimidating to be scrutinised like this. The unspoken glances they exchange don’t help either. He can feel the Force swirling, but he knows better than to prod - he wouldn’t get anything, anyway. The silence feels like an eternity, but it’s only been a matter of seconds. Then, finally, Master Yoda smiles and nods. 

“Come forward, Padawan.” He says, and Braig does. Master Yoda gestures to the floor, and Braig kneels as Obi-Wan stands. That familiar blue saber ignites. Braig glances up, meets his master’s eyes, and smiles. Obi-Wan smiles too- then his expression shifts. Becomes something pained and distant. Braig frowns. What? Was something wrong? He didn’t dare move- not even when the beeping got louder.

…

Beeping?

What was beeping? 

What was-

R7 rams into his chair, jolting him awake. 

“Ah- Caraya’s soul, what?!” He snaps. It’s so bright, and his head is pounding. He squeezes his eyes shut and grumbles as he works the heel of his palm into his temple. It doesn’t help. R7 starts up again. That hurts more.

“What- Slow down. What do you mean?” Forcing his eyes open, Braig paws around the table to find a half-finished bottle. He grimaces. It’ll have to do. “The Inquisitorious never comes out this far, there’s nothing…” He pauses with the bottle half-raised to his lips. The Force snarls against his throat, lapping ocean-cold down his spine. 

Ah. 

kissy kissy prompts || @degobahsage (anakin - test)

A huff of laughter escaped him in a puff as he pulled his arm away from Anakin's lips. The sentimental throwback to when Obi-Wan would do the same to him, using the Force to relieve some of the pain if he got hurt, was so wholesome and out of place for war; Obi-Wan couldn't help the fit of giggles that rose from him.

send 🗣 for my muse to blurt out the first thing they think of when they see your muse. || ACCEPTING