#phm#ryland grace#rocky the eridian#project hail mary spoilers
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girl you should be less excited about being choked...💀💀
jk have fun you two!!!
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Name: Linora
Sex: Female
Age: 24 ( in human years)
Bio: Linora is a traveling merchant, she collects various spices, herbs, and many oddities. This is how the grubb survives on a day to day basis. The traveler carries everything she owns on her back, tent, food, inventory- you name it! Her favorite thing to do is find a cozy spot near the roads, just close enough to greet other fellow travelers alike. Here, the Grubb offers services as well as goods such as fortune telling, traditional tattoos, and.. music? Yes, if requested, Lin will strum a few cords on a ukulele.
Her tattoos are represented as a sun on the right forearm and a moon on the upper left arm. They embody what she perceives as the world's balance. She'll light up the hookah and share wonderful stories of all the places and people she's met, maybe even dabble into celestial ties.
Not posting this to the instagram simply because I have people irl who follow me there-
This is gooner art fr
Anyways, this is my oc Linora, she is who I use to practice… ahem, “anatomy”
Sorpreso a rubare in una struttura ricettiva, arrestato 27enne
Sorpreso a rubare bottiglie di alcoolici in una struttura ricettiva, arrestato 27enne
L’uomo di origine marocchina aveva trafugato numerose bottiglie di alcoolici (more…)
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Balmorra
The smell of ozone filled the air, acrid and angry, and screams echoed across the ground, across the radio, across the Force. She was on Balmorra, and the Republic and Empire had met in the worst possible place. An open field, the only effective cover provided by portable force fields, the lightsabers of Jedi and Sith, and the craters left behind when artillery or bombers hit a formation. Shrapnel from destroyed fighters rained from the sky, and all around Linora, people died. Imperial soldiers. Republic troopers. Sith. Jedi. Master Shan had vanished from her side, rushing off to break an Imperial armored charge against Republic infantry. She and three other padawans remained on the front’s left flank. There was little to do but defend, deflecting blaster bolts so that the trooper with the squad assault weapon could continue firing in relative safety. Then she felt it. The edge of her perception. The Sith was trying not to be perceived. Linora called out a warning to the others. In a hail of motion, three troopers fell, the crimson saberstaff slicing through their armor as if it were air and leaving them lifeless before they hit the ground. The Sith was a man, or perhaps one of the larger Pureblood women - nearly seven feet tall, broad, built for power but able to move with inhuman quickness and utterly silently. She wondered for a moment if that was assisted by technology or the Force - possibly both; the Sith did love their enhancements. The Sith’s mask was black steel, two slits revealing glowing red eyes. This was a Sith lord. He did not speak as he turned to engage the padawans. He shot left first, toward Master Orgus’s padawan. Human. Male. Dark skin, playful eyes. The weakest of the three of them. The Sith’s certainty of that washed over them all like a wave. But Orgus’s padawan got his lightsaber up in time, blocked the blow. Linora activated her second saber, its blue blade igniting alongside the green of her favorite, and moved to engage. Ashara, the Togruta with her yellow saberstaff, started to circle the Sith. The next few moments were a blur. The Sith was faster than any of them, terrifyingly strong, with immense reach, but three well-trained padawans were able to hold him at bay. Mostly. She could see Orgus’s padawan’s arms weakening, already exhausted from covering the SAW, and feel the ache in her own shoulders as the Sith drove his saberstaff again and again onto her defenses. They were doomed. She knew that. This was the moment they were going to die. Understanding made acceptance easier. There was need only to fear the unknown. There is no death. There is the Force. When her death could be accepted, so too could the pain in her arms, and she pressed the Sith with renewed vigor. Drove him back for a moment, before he changed tactics. She felt the darkness draw itself around the Sith an instant before he released one hand’s grip on his saberstaff. It was against Orgus’s padawan that he sent the lightning, purple bolts arcing around his lightsaber. Most of it was still absorbed by the weapon, but, weakened as he was, what remained was enough to throw him backward, to fling his lightsaber from his hand. He landed at an odd angle. There was not time to check him, even to spare a thought for sensing whether he lived or not. Having tasted blood, the Sith seemed rejuvenated, and turned his full attention to the remaining padawans. As much as her serenity allowed Linora to ignore the pain in her arms, she knew, in the part of her mind that was not full of the Force, that muscle and tendon would give way eventually. Soon. Even if the Sith’s superior skill did not allow him to find an opening before that. Ashara saved her, forcing the Sith to give up on breaking past her defenses with lightning instants before she would have been forced to lower one of her sabers. She saved Ashara, managing a glancing blow against the Sith’s side that slowed him just enough for Ashara to get her saberstaff back into position. Cleverness and desperation kept them alive, but they were well past the expected expiration date of those advantages, and they’d been fighting the Sith for less than three minutes. Then the world was wind and fire and light. The Sith reeled back, and a voice spoke in Linora’s mind at the same moment it spoke aloud to Ashara. Stay back. A single lightsaber, blue, flashed against the Sith lord’s saberstaff, and the Sith lord stumbled. Lightning shot from his fingers, but Master Shan raised one gloved hand, drawing the lightning in and snuffing it out. The Sith lord’s certain rage turned to fear when he recognized the face of the Grand Master of the Jedi Order. There was rage in Master Shan, but it was put aside. The Sith lord had harmed, tried to kill, her apprentice. Had severely wounded Master Orgus’s padawan. But that was not why the Sith would die. The Sith would die because it was the will of the Force that he die today. Master Shan swatted away another blast of lightning, caught a trooper the Sith tried to throw at her in the air and gently put him down, all the while never ceasing her advance. Each blow of her lightsaber pushed the Sith’s saberstaff downward, to the left, until it was entirely out of position. Desperate, his fear the only thing left to empower him, he tried to throw the ground itself at Master Shan. The Jedi master stepped through the cloud of rock and dust, and it did not touch her. An Imperial fighter screamed overhead, fired at them all. Master Shan’s lightsaber flashed again. The bolt from the fighter was deflected, ripping through the ship’s own engines. In that same motion, her blade sliced through the Sith’s neck, and he fell. The will of the Force was done. “Collect your friend,” Master Shan said. “Make your way to the medical tents. He is wounded, but should survive with treatment.” She started to walk away, paused, allowed her serenity to slip just enough for Linora to see her pride, her concern, her fierce affection. “You did well, here, but your work is done for now.”
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On Linora
When Linora was born, the Sith were a true culture. It was millennia before Darth Bane instituted the Rule of Two, stipulating that there would only be two Sith at a time. Centuries before the extinction of the Sith purebloods, the red-skinned natives of Korriban who, together with a group of outcast Jedi, formed the Sith Order as an organized philosophy. This was the time of Emperor Vitiate, when thousands of Sith roamed the eastern galaxy, ruling over all they touched with blood and lightning.
She was born on Korriban, and would probably have become one of the tyrants who drove the Empire’s legions of slaves to build great works or its fleets of starships to conquer and pillage and ravage entire star systems on a whim if not for a particularly daring Jedi and her equally daring apprentices and military allies. They staged a night raid on Corriban, intent on damaging the Sith Order and showing them to be weaker than they claimed. The attack cost two padawans and a dozen soldiers their lives, but was whispered about in the Jedi temple for years after. The Jedi took home prizes as well - intelligence on Sith activities, a few holocrons, and a single Sith pureblood toddler, taken from one of their indoctrination tubes.
The Sith would call it a kidnapping. To the Jedi, it was a rescue.
The child was named Linora.
Despite some misgivings among the Jedi Council about the idea of training someone who had the Dark Side in their blood, she was accepted into the Order as a youngling, raised alongside the other children brough willingly by their parents from across the Republic or smuggled out of the Empire’s colony worlds. She stood out there, her skin and the sharp bony ridges under her eyes marking her as someone who perhaps never should have become Jedi.
She felt passion and rage and hate and fear in her blood, but she listened to the Jedi masters and found serenity through the drumming in her veins. In doing so, she earned the favor of Setalle Shan, who would one day become Grand Master of the Jedi Order.
Perhaps her story should have ended there, thirty-six hundred years before Order 66 and the rise of Palpatine’s Galactic Empire. Maybe she would have died in battle against the Sith, or at an old age after a retirement spend teaching younglings the ways of the Force. But neither of those things happened.
She does not remember who put her into carbon freeze, if she ever knew. But she spent three and a half millennia in the guise of a piece of installation art, a reminder of times long past. She passed from collector to collector, from display to forgotten warehouse to archaeological curiousity back to display, until she wound up in the hands of the Rebel Alliance.
They woke her up.
And now here she is. A shadow has descended on Coruscant, which was once the heart of light in the galaxy. A Sith Lord leads the Senate and the government of what once was the Republic as its new Emperor. And, as far as she knows, she is the only Jedi left in the galaxy.
She was born to evil, taken in war, but she knows the Force. If she is what remains of the galaxy’s greatest light, she will shine all the brighter, bright enough to pierce the shadow that spreads from Coruscant to the Outer Rim.
Her mission has not changed. She will act out the Force’s will - and, unless the Force explicitly tells her otherwise, she will destroy the Sith.
Carbonite Dreams
She is six years old.
She is alone in one of the wide rooms in the Jedi Temple on Tython. A bandage has been applied to the cut on her head, another to a shallower but longer cut across her arms. The medical droid silently tends to the three bruised ribs, to the cracked bone on her ocular ridge. She does not speak, even when its ministrations cause a jolt of pain to shoot through her mind.
She heard the boys as the masters brought them to seperate rooms to recount their stories. “Hosun was teasing her,” one said. “She just went mad…” “It was the only way we could make her stop.” Hosun had been the one least invested in the beating they gave her. It seemed they were punishing him for that by making him shoulder what blame she would not.
Finally, the door to the main conference room opened, and from it stepped the tall, striking figure of Master Setalle Shan. She would be the next Grand Master, when the old man who held that position finally became one with the Force. Which would be any day, now, it seemed… the medical droids and healers maintained his life because the Order needed his wisdom, but they were at the end of their skills.
“Youngling Linora,” Master Shan said. “Come.” She waited just long enough for the medical droid to move out of her way, then rose to her feet. Her ribs screamed. She swallowed the scream and followed the Master into the conference room.
They were alone, there… the other Masters had left. If she was to be expelled from the Order, she would face it with dignity.
“I am ready for my fate,” Linora said, kneeling as Master Shan knelt.
“So quick to give yourself to punishment?” Setalle Shan’s lips curled. “Patience, youngling. I am certain the day for punishment will come, but today is not that day. We have divined the truth of this incident. Three of the boys have confessed; the rest will soon. They attempted to provoke you with words about your ancestry, and, when you would not be provoked with words, they moved to blows. You still mastered your rage.” Her smile was fond, now. “You do have anger, youngling. I can feel it below your skin. But you have mastered it, far better than your age or your training would prepare you for.”
She did her best not to show her surprise. “I… have a lot of time to practice, Master.”
“I have been too long without an apprentice,” Master Shan said. “I would like to rectify that… and you are ready. You will be my padawan.” Setalle rose to her feet, and Linora rose with her, letting the fluidity of simple ceremony push away her shock. Padawan? To Master Shan?
She was halfway to Master Shan’s office before she remembered how badly her ribs hurt.
Linora, Warrior who will kick your butt in the name of kicking butt
