#orderlived

This wasn’t good. 

Okay, that was a bit of an understatement. This was bad. This was very bad. 

It was supposed to just be a routine mission - as much as any mission could be ‘routine’. Touch down, take out the droids, provide relief to the units already on the ground. Standard faire. (When had military missions become standard for them? … It didn’t bare thinking about.) It should have been easy. 

Of course not. 

It could have been worse, he supposed. They could be dead. They weren’t dead, so that was good. Their masters could be dead. He was fairly sure they weren’t, given that that was their transport carrying on ahead. Braig squinted against the swirling dust and smoke and sun to try to make it out. His comm pinged and he looked down to it. The light stuttered, but… But it worked. 

Sort of.

“Hello?” He leaned into the tiny device, but flinched back when it spat a shower of sparks. He wrinkled his nose in a mix of distaste and discomfort. He was fairly certain that was his master’s voice crackling through, but it was so choppy and distorted it was impossible to make out. 

“I-I can’t hear you.” He works his jaw around the taste of dust and copper. “But, we--” He looks around. The Force weighs heavy and stale with death, but there’s a spark there. One of them made it. Judging by the way it stirs, it’s Master Billaba’s padawan - Caleb. 

“Caleb and I are alright. Everyone else is- Down.” That hurt to say, for more reasons than one. The medic part of him insisted he should lie still and wait for help, just in case. The soldier part of him told him that would get them both killed. The Jedi part said it was a pretty good thing the Force was with them. It always was. 

Okay.

Step one was getting out of here. 

“Hey, Caleb?” He grunted, worming his way out of the restraints. “Are you awake?” He squinted at the light, once again searching the clouds. 

     𝐀𝐈𝐑  𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐃  𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐊  around  them  ,  a  strange  force  binding  two  opposites  together  .  to  what  extend  their  love  would  grow  ,  no  one  knew  .  but  worry  was  written  on  a  pained  face  -  as  fingers  𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐘  traced  the  hull  of  a  grey  mask  .  an  accident  which  would  haunt  the  jedi  forever  -  weakened  without  his  eyesight  .  (  varn  unable  to  look  into  teal  hues  𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍  .  )  alive  and  well  ,  words  first  used  after  rumors  spread  across  the  empire  .  kanan  assuring  adan  that  his  health  was  no  longer  at  risk  -  though  this  ?  was  𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐄  .  ❝  stop  it  .  ❞  firm  words  spoken  ,  as  killed  fingered  reached  to  remove  the  mask  .  (  wound  which  remained  unseen  by  varn  .  )  sensing  how  tense  his  lover  had  been  before  .  no  secrets  .  false  promises  which  𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃  in  their  minds  constantly  .  

     𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑  𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄  𝐊𝐍𝐄𝐖  no  bounds  ,  still  his  words  stung  nonetheless  . the  what  ifs  flooded  the  admirals  mind  -  believing  himself  to  be  strong  enough  to  save  kanan  from  this  𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐂  event  .  (  lips  pressed  to  a  thin  line  .  )  ever  careful  as  he  leaned  closer  ,  kissing  the  scar  .  ❝  it  is  not  you  who  makes  that  decision  .  goddess  death  cannot  take  a  valuable  and  𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐃  soul  .  ❞  softly  whispered  ,  ocean  hues  desperately  wishing  to  look  into  his  eyes  -  though  they  remained  shut  .  ❝  mia karelul  ,  look  at  me  ,  please  .  ❞

pinky promise?                          pinky promise.

                 He wasn’t sure.. what drew him here.. but something told him to come. Something told him that he needed to be here. It didn’t take too long to figure out why. He went to explore and it.. isn’t long after setting off that the redhead finds himself feeling that pull again. Like a tug only found through the force, one that told him that he needed to come this way. Regardless of what he found, he was ready.

                He finds himself in.. it was hard to explain. In some ways it reminded him of the marketplace on Bracca. A small place with vendors trying to sell their goods so they could go home to their families. He loves these kinds of things. But it’s not why he is here. The force tugged him another way.. he had to trust it. Blue pools search, looking for the semi-familiar presence that seemed to inhabit wherever he was being brought.. There’s someone up ahead and it feels like that’s who he’s bring brought to..

     𝐔𝐍𝐔𝐒𝐀𝐋  𝐒𝐄𝐒𝐍𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍  𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓  burnt  along  a  tortured  body  ,  trying  to  hide  the  embarrassment  that  lingered  on  a  frowning  expression  .  never  before  had  an  individual  cared  for  his  markings  -  𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆  them  almost  immediately  when  they  spoke  about  them  .  (  past  that  haunted  the  admiral  still  .  )  unsure  how  to  address  the  discomfort  .  instead  hues  faced  the  ground  -  feeling  as  careful  fingers  allowed  to  roam  ,  tensing  when  𝐂𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍  areas  were  reached  .  ❝  do  not  think  of  me  less  .  .  .  ❞  a  tired  response  given  ,  lips  turning  into  a  very  thin  line  .  (  it  was  not  for  kanan  to  see  .  )  so  very  fragile  their  𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏  was  .  the  jedi  being  the  very  thing  adan  should  have  hated  .  

     𝐒𝐔𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐋𝐘  𝐇𝐄  𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐃  roaming  hands  ,  allowing  his  chest  to  fall  in  relaxation  .  some  things  would  have  to  remain  secret  .  ❝  please  ,  these  scars  carry  a  heavy  burden  .  one  i  do  not  wish  to  be  remembered  of  .  ❞  heavy  words  from  a  man  that  seemed  always  𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐘  to  strike  .  but  his  past  should  stay  forgotten  forever  .  (  even  when  kanan  would  eventually  figure  it  out  .  )  ❝  i  am  sorry  .  ❞

IDENTITY ASKS

@orderlived​ asked:

❛ i don’t know who i am anymore. ❜ 

“Oh?” He raises an eyebrow. He watches Caleb - or Kanan, he supposes - for a moment. Studies him. Then he looks away.

It’s true, they’ve both changed. He’s not sure he’d recognize the person he used to be. It had been so long. They’d both been through so much. They’d changed more than he could put into words. 

“I suppose that’s fair.” He says, settling his hands into his lap. “But then, that gives you an opportunity, doesn’t it?” He lets that hang for a moment before continuing. "You have a blank slate. A fresh start. You can be whoever you want.” He watches the sky, tracing the movement of clouds with his eyes. It’s rare that they get quiet moments like this. Moments to think, to talk, to feel. The galaxy was in constant turmoil, and they were in the middle of it; no wonder Kanan was feeling out of sorts. He glances over again eventually, giving his head a curious tilt. 

INJURY ASKS

@orderlived​ asked:  ❝  did you just wince?  where are you hurt?  ❞

He almost laughs. He doesn’t, but he almost does. What comes out is more of an exhausted chuckle.

“At this point, where am I not hurt?” He shrugs one shoulder. He’s… Mostly kidding. It’s been a long fight. It’s been a long life. It will be longer still. 

But as old as he may be feeling right now (two decades older than those he lost, two eternities of aged grief in his veins), he can still outpace their enemies. Just- 

Not quite as well as he would’ve liked, this time around. He was alive. They were both alive. He should be grateful enough for that. Almost grateful enough to ignore the faint smell of singed flesh. He hoped Caleb hadn’t noticed that. It would only make him– Okay. He was already worried. But it would definitely make it worse, so if that could be avoided, so much the better. 

send  “OBSERVE” for a mini-drabble of how MY MUSE sees and/or thinks about YOUR MUSE while they do something completely ordinary. || ACCEPTING

This can be them reading, cooking, sleeping, just ordinary moments the often get glossed over in threads and roleplays. Feel free to specify what your muse is doing if you want to!

@orderlived​ asked:

OBSERVE

It’s always interesting to see people off the battlefield, when that was his first impression of them. Perhaps that’s a strange thing to think. It’s just… He can’t help but think that this is how Caleb is meant to be. This is how they’re all supposed to be living. The sun filters through the glass paneling over the garden’s roof. It paints the scene before him in a buttery golden warmth. Caleb and his friends are meditating, just as Braig had been only moments ago (before his alarm reminded him he had a training session to get to). The Force hummed serene and content through the room - it really was the perfect spot to relax. It would seem that the younger padawans agreed with that. Here, the stress seemed to roll off of Caleb, shedding the shackles of commander and being allowed to just be a Jedi. To just be himself. He was so young - and Braig knew he was a hypocrite in that sense - and had so much growing to do. 

“I know I’ve said it before,” he said as he collected his robes, “but you would have been proud with how he handled himself the other day. He did wonderfully.”