#wraekage

Qira had left before the Empire fell, to become her own Sith, to not be under her father's shadow for the rest of her life. When it did fall, she could only smirk in response. She had been right to see it as weak, that they had strayed from the true Sith ways. It only fueled her to continue finding artefacts of Sith origin, to learn as much as she could.

One of the things she learned was how to halt her aging, to give herself more life. It came at what most would see as a caveat. She would have to take the life from others, draining and killing them, in order to keep herself youthful. To her, it was a necessary sacrifice, but she had gotten sloppy as of recent. A string of deaths followed in her wake, and they showed a pattern. Said pattern was enough for @wraekage to hunt her down, unbeknownst to her.

Currently, Qira was sitting at a local bar, looking for her next target. The drunk were always the easiest to persuade. She used her own Force to suppress her otherwise immense power, allowing her to also shift her eyes to their original blue so they weren't so obvious. It took a good amount of her focus to keep it up, so when she wasn't looking at the patrons walking in, she was staring down into her half consumed cup of hard liquor, letting it ground her and keep herself from letting it all go into the open.

"Master Kenobi?" Violet stood behind the Jedi for the first time nervously. "I don't know if you can help me or not… But Shmi was my mother." (The Anakin she is referring to is mine. Also welcome to my chaotic gothic child. Aka Pain in the ass Jr.) || @wraekage

It was a rare gift that the 212th Attack Battalion was granted leave on Coruscant. Having just returned from a brutal tour, the Jedi Master decided to leave the Temple and walk among Coruscant. While the Temple did offer him a semblance of comfort and clarity in an otherwise tumultuous time, it was also incredibly helpful for him to walk the streets.

Here - deep in the chatter, the buzz and hum of Coruscant - he remembered what he was fighting for. The temple and the ships were so isolated that it could be hard to remember that peace did exist. There were trillions of people across the galaxy living ordinary lives, with no idea of the war.

That is what he was fighting for.

Standing at a less popular lookout spot - but a nice one nonetheless - he heard someone call out to him. It was not uncommon now. As the war raged on, his popularity grew alongside Anakin's. Becoming the poster Jedi for the war. Twirling around, he offered a polite smile, preparing himself for whatever they would ask of him.

Obi-Wan's thoughts faltered at Shmi's name, and his expression hardened.

"Say no more. I'll help." Violet lowered her jacket's hood as she eyed the man in front of her. "No cost." (from wraekage)

The Zygerrians were not anyone that Bron'ig had ever wanted to come across again. In fact, he had thought they were gone. Which, he supposed, was quite naive of him. Look at what happened with Death Watch after all. The last thing he wanted was to remember his time in their care, but even more so, he couldn't stand to allow them to rise again.

The only problem was that it seemed they had learned from last time. No longer were they boastful; it seemed everything was more underground. More discreet. It was infuriating: the number of leads that he continuously bled dry with nothing to show for it.

The reality was, he needed help.

He had no money and was not willing to get credits to hire someone.So his plan was either you help me, or I go on my way.

With that plan in mind, he went in search of someone who could help him. Fate took him to none other than Violet. Thankfully, he hadn't even had to get far in his proposition to her before she was agreeing. His eyebrow raised in slight surprise as she lowered her hood.

Bron'ig reached into the Force for an inquiry.

" it's just, when you add obviously, it feels a little less obvious. " / @wraekage

[  TXT  ]  :  you  can't  ignore  me  forever. @wraekage       ⤷ 𝚃𝚁𝙰𝙽𝚂𝙼𝙸𝚂𝚂𝙸𝙾𝙽     𝚁𝙴𝙲𝙴𝙸𝚅𝙴𝙳

[   TXT     ⤷    VI   ]    i  dunno  where  you're  getting  that  confidence  from. [   TXT     ⤷    VI   ]    would  you  like  me  to  prove  otherwise?  because  i  could.  easily.

Juniper rubbed the palm of her hand soothingly against her jawline. The Tusken Raider had really knocked her a new one, and as red as her face was now, there would be dark, bruised splotches by nightfall. She couldn't blame them exactly. They were just protecting their territory, but did they have to whack first and ask questions later? ❝ Those staffs really pack a whallop, ❞ she commented, twisting her jaw from side to side, hoping it would feel like it would set back in place. She laughed, though it sort of hurt to. ❝ I wish I could say that was the first time it happened. ❞

aurora is no stranger to the woods ‘round her castle — in fact, the princess would argue that these trees, the glens and the abandoned cottage she often occupied were sometimes more of a home then the cold ivory walls of her palace.

however, as naive and reckless as the princess was, she did actively try to avoid running into . . . well, trouble. trouble like strangers, or rather, bandits and thieves.

aurora smiled weakly at the other, a basket of berries on the crook of her arm. “ i’m sorry, i didn’t realize this part of the forest belonged to someone, “ her, technically, but she wasn’t about to upset the bandit — who was far prettier then other bandits she had seen in the village . . . and even vaguely familiar.

                𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙷  𝙰  𝚂𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙿  𝙴𝚇𝙷𝙰𝙻𝙴,  𝚂𝙺𝚈𝚆𝙰𝙻𝙺𝙴𝚁  𝚂𝙴𝚃  𝚃𝙷𝙴  𝙳𝙰𝚃𝙰𝙿𝙰𝙳  𝙰𝚂𝙸𝙳𝙴 , the glow of its screen still burning in his peripheral vision. his fingers pressed against the bridge of his nose, massaging away the mounting pressure, but the ache remained, throbbing in time with his heartbeat.

❝working too hard might give me a heart attack, but doing nothing would probably drive me crazy,❞ anakin muttered below his breath, the words a familiar bitter mantra, before his throat tightened on a dry rasp as he swallowed, the motion almost painful. an acrid taste lingered on his tongue. blast — he hadn’t eaten in hours, had he? he squeezed his eyes shut, but the darkness behind his eyelids offered no solace. instead, it intensified the sharp pinpricks lancing through his temples.

                 maybe violet was right. the concession slipped through unbidden, reason whispering against stubborn pride. but stopping, even for a moment, felt impossible.