murder :   my  muse  walks  in  on  your  muse  committing  a  gruesome  murder. 

The scent of spilled blood mixed with the sour stench of with terror mixed sweat rushed against Ziv like a wall, crushing against her so hard the Tynnan almost stumbled. She had set after the Spacer when she had seen them grabbing for their blaster, yet she only just stumbled into the corridor when already the Rhodian was laying on the ground and the inside of his skull splattered over the steel-tiles. At this hour of the Nightcycle the buzzing noises of the station throbbed past the corridor like the pulse of a never sleeping heart and Ziv felt this beat in the tact of her own eartbeat until the roots of her teeth. “Wha-?!”, The Tynnan let go of a strange sound, something between a suprised huff and a yelp of pain- a short, utterly desperate and utterly disturbed sigh that was so brokenly the rest was stuck in her throat like a heavy clot, almost suffocating her. A second passed, just a second, just the blink of an eye. Then the young woman hurried rushed to the Rhodian Spacer, she fell on her knees before the stranger, drenching her white pelt and the edges of her dress with blood that felt so hot as if it was broiling: “That does not give you the kriffing right to kriffing kill them!” Hasty her white paws grabbed to the with blood smeared throat to search for a pulse- there was none, what was under her paws was lifeless and unmoving and nothing and - -a pulse flickered weakly under her callouse fingers, small and weak like a scared little bird.   Zivs head snapped up and she looked over her shoulder to the Droid, with her pelt bristled and her teeth bared almost as if she was snarling: “Help me bring them somwhere cleaner, I can still help them-!”

At this time of the starstations daycycle the automaical adjusted Ligts were still dull,almost colourless as their light wrapped the bar in a shimmer that wrapped around the few guests, the tables and stools like a grey veil.  Until before a hour Ziv had been on the ship of two Spacers where one of them had called her because the other had been shaking from a fever they had caught somwhere in the way to the starstation and that had clinged to them like a curse. The fever had been caused by a small scratch the spacer had got when making reperatures on their starships engienes and as always, a small scratch was easily ignores-at least easily ignored until a infectio would bite deep into the body like stinking,rotten teeth. The Tynnan had reopned the small cut and cleaned it, then she had spend the rest of the starstations nightcycle fighting against the infection with of red-mold prepared tinctures and lowered the fever, until the spacer had finally fallen asleep,calmly breathing like a child. Now the young woman was tiered, yet the scent of fever and infection still clinged to her- her pelt and her memory- so sleep was nothing but a unfullfillable wish. The Droids question made the Tynnan look up over the edge of her teamug as if she wa only now realizing that she must look like hell, her eyes swollen from the lack of sleep, her pelt untidy and dull from the stressful night. Automatically Ziv combed her thick white pelt back over the scar with her sharp claws, huffing a little. The scar did not hurt,not really,not exactly,but when her claws softly tapped against it it throbbed like her head had throbbed in that one second when she had been in a sickbay years ago and had leaned over a Clones shredded stomach only for the second to turn into another second in which she had looked up to see in the black hole of a blasters-muzzle held by a troup of Droids who had no definition of warcrimes programmed into them. And this second had been nothing but blackness, as black as that blasters muzzle that had been so dark it seemed to have wanted to swallow her like a black, eager mouth.

“So beeing a kriffing barkeeper in fact gives you the proper expierence to recognize blasterwounds,hm?”,the smile on the young womans pale muzzle was more amused teasing than friendly, it showed a few of her ivory carnivore teeth and it looked almost as if she as snarling if the corners of her mouth would not reach so far up: “But yes, it is. Kudos to your barkeeper-sensors. Its from times we both really do not want to talk about.” The Tynnan smoothed the thick pelt over the side of her head, now completly hiding the scar like it was drowning in the deep white of her fur: “And it does not hurt- I would be a kriffing bad healer if I would not be able to treat a wound properly enough to heal without stinging.” Just sometimes,on bad days,on bad days fullof memories she did not wanted to think about, the scar throbbed.

The machine looked away. “If the CIS every hurt you or your friends… I want ya to know there weren’t any hard feelings, al’rite?” It chirped in the classic B-1 voicestyle. “But t’he past is t’he past…” ….B-12V-TX looked back at the furry thing.  “Whatch’a here for’e little one? Just lookin’ to relax for a night?”

“Yeh, only the hard feeling of a kriffing  blaster pressed in my face.”, the Tynnan tilted her head to the side with grim amusement drawing a smirk on her furred face that looked as friendly and welcoming as a open, gaping wound: “You were not programmed with kriffing consideration, were you?” It was not like she had forgiven the droid who had actually shot her years ago, although Ziv had been fast enpugh to reach out and push the blaster down so the blasterfire had only shot a inch over her shoulder, burning the flesh adn scorching her pelt instead of burning a hole through ehr head. But in the same manner the young woman was also sure that that droid was now nothing but a rusting heap of metal somewhere on a forgotten planet, so in fact there were no hard feelings now, beside the sudden flash of a memory of starring into the muzzle of a blaster that sometimes would creep out of the black dark corner of her mind  when she forgot to keep it locked away like the itching of a old wound that would ache on stormy days.  The Tynnan automatically ran a paw over her face, pressing her fingers against her whiskers to ground herself and shove the memory of the blastermuzzle back into that dark corner of her mind where she could pretend it did not existed. It needed a few seconds and the Tynnans smile had not become any more warmer as she looked up to the droid: “But, aye, the past is in the past. No kriffing chance to change it now.” For a second, just a second, Ziv wondered why this sentences made her feel so bitter although she was so very sure it was a truth she had accepted since years. Then the second ended. Then Ziv forced the second to end.  With a annoyed huff the young woman shaked herself a little, shaking off that strange feeling and instead walked over to the barcounter to peer over it with her muzzle that was just high enough to reach over it as if she was a child. 

“No ‘little one’, actually a kriffing normal sized Tynnan named Ziv Odiz’Zee who would like to have a drink and a small summary of what kind of kriffing starstation I end up on.” Elbows nonchalantly leaned on the barcounter the young woman whistled up to the droid:  “I think you can at least fullfill me kriffing one of my wishes, hrm?”

Send “How Tall?” and I’ll compare our Muses’ heights!   Please specify Muses if multi-muses are involved! Generator here!  B12V-TX is 180cm and Ziv is 130cm (With Ears) !

The Tynnans white ears moved up and down and up and down and down as if she was a leery animal.She was still remembering that the last time she had seen the Cis-crest had been years ago as a Teenager when she had been in a sickbay and had leaned over a Clones shredded stomach only for a second to look up and see in the black hole of a blasters-muzzle held by a troup of Droids who had no definition of warcrimes programmed into them. As if she was that little girl serving as a healer once again, Ziv couldn´t help but tense her shoulders, almost as if she was expecting to see again that blasters muzzle that had been so dark it seemed to have wanted to  swallow her like a balck, eager mouth.

 “...now it had been kriffing long since that crest had been pressed against my snout.”, Ziv said slowly, her tail swiftly wagging from one side to another tensely.

  panodras-box  god i hate the...

Didnt need to reboot the originals because they were masterpieces. Prequals sure weren’t as good but not as aweful as the sequals. I get no SW feeling at all for the latter. At least the prequals expanded the lore and added tons of good shit.

ok i’m gonna stop you right there because the prequels are terrible from a film critique POV and besides since when does being a masterpiece stop anything from being rebooted.

  god i hate the ris.e of sk.ywalker so much 

Mark my words the sequals are going to be rebooted in 10 years.

  him and him boy[[MOR]

quality family time

i love the “expectation vs. reality” meme of this and it’s like

expectation: phil noto art, luke carrying vader in his arms bridal style, stoic faced