#ecsile

they don't often talk about the war. carth generalizes, canderous lauds, and bastila approaches it with a distant intellectualism meant to end the conversation as quickly as possible. each offering a truth that lyn can't help but feel is incomplete. like they're being given only the border pieces of a puzzle. tidreen, they've noticed, rarely offers words of her own, but she always listens. follows along with the others in a way that feels like something more than just listening. like a measurement. [ like a judgement. ] but her truth, when she offers it, feels closer to what lyn seems to be looking for.

they seem destined for the underbelly of things — the undercity of taris, the depths of manaan, the shadowlands of kashyyyk, the few dark spaces of tattooine. secrets and uncomfortable truths live in places where they can burrow and remain unseen, and only by canvassing, cutting through the damp and dark can they begin to unravel the knots that wrap themselves around truth. whether it's another star map or tidreen's past. “ i thought i could destroy all my enemies with a single glorious victory! ” @ecsile says, but she does not sound glorious when she says it. they thinks she sounds wretched, like she's nursing a wound, and lyn aches with her.

“ glory is a lie — told to sweeten the taste of blood, to ease it down the throat. ” they say suddenly. the words come out in a strange rhythm as if repeated from another, pulled from a place in the mind they couldn't see. the empty space with the missing pieces. “ and in war it is a lie most will fall for, at some point. ” there's a hardness, a bitterness [ a regret? ] to their tone that surprises them. it feels like a memory but they're unable to place it, grasping for further wisdom but finding only empty air, and they drop their gaze from tidreen. lyn sighs, rubbing their eyes with a sudden tiredness, and is disappointed to find tension they feel doesn't leave their body with the exhale.

blair witch starters || accepting

      The street is quiet, almost eerily abandoned -- odd, considering it’s just past nightfall in a district of London that had once been teaming with shops and restaurants and life. A few torn and weather-beaten posters remind citizens of the epidemic, the more human one, that’s ravaged populations in the city and beyond and the piecemeal measures taken to try and contain it.

      And if that wasn’t enough, now there’s the rising plague of an entirely different nature to contend with. Not that the average person is aware of what comes crawling out of the sewers every night. That’s the way Geoffrey would prefer to keep it, really -- if people knew what was out there, it would only make the Guard’s job harder as every politician and average Londoner would start getting ideas in their heads about solutions to problems they couldn’t comprehend. No, it’s better to keep the masses in the dark and hope they stayed there. 

      Which is why Geoffrey never likes when his patrols are interrupted by a member of those blissfully unaware masses. In spite of his best efforts, he knows what the Guard’s reputation is with the general population, and it’s hardly positive, particularly in the posher districts. Those under his leadership are labeled as thugs more often than not by those that don’t understand their mission. 

perhaps it was inappropriate for her to follow the other through the streets of her planet.    not for the fact that following someone was just,  creepy,  and weird,  but for the fact that she could easily be recognized by her own people.   stopped at any given moment by those who lived on corona only to have her not so inconspicuous cover blown and to make it known that she was actually following the new face.    it wasn’t like she had to personally greet every newcomer who’d stepped foot on corona soil but,  she liked to make a point to at least introduce herself.   and to ensure that corona’s out of harm’s way;  even with that in mind,  though,  corona still held the belief of allowing those who just need a place to stay, a safe roof over their head.    it was only when the other turned around, though, when rapunzel’s eyes held panic.   she’d been caught.    “oh,  um..    hi.   hi.   welcome to corona.”   // @ecsile liked for a starter.