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@antiquaanima
Antiqua Anima carrd
( Sideblog to kaleeshbled ) multimuse rp blog for characters from Star Wars ranging from the Old Republic to the Prequels and Sequel movies. Muses include. . . - Darth Nihilus - Dread Master Raptus - Jango Fett - Captain Rex - Kylo Ren
Jango: I mean, if I went around sayin’ I was Mand’alor just because some aruetii had lobbed a beskad at me they’d put me away!
Satine: Shut up! Will you shut up!
Jango: Ah, now we see the violence inherent in the system.
Satine: Shut up!
Jango: Oh! Come and see the violence inherent in the system! HELP! HELP! I’m being repressed!
Several years later…
Jango: -and that was how I lost my Mandalorian citizenship.
Boba: wtf dad.
GLIMPSES OF THE PAST: a headcanon / prompt collection because sometimes it's not enough to write about your muse's past and how it affects them, you just gotta write a little scene. these prompts are designed to be a little writing prompt related to your character's past, essentially!
send FORGED for a scene from my muse's past that they think made them stronger in the long run
send REMINDED for a scene from my muse's past in which they encountered something that reminded them of a difficult experience / trauma
send CONFESSED for a scene from my muse's past in which they revealed a secret about themselves to someone
send TRICKED for a scene from my muse's past in which they misled, tricked, or lied to someone
send IMPRESSED for a scene from my muse's past in which they tried to impress someone, successfully or not
send ACHIEVED for a scene from my muse's past in which they completed / achieved something they were proud of
send CHANGED for a scene from my muse's past that represented a turning point in their life
send DIFFERENT for a scene from my muse's past that they feel changed their outlook / personality / etc, for the better or worse
send CRITICAL for a scene from my muse's past in which they thought about / were reminded of something they're insecure about
send SCOLDED for a scene from my muse's past in which someone told them off, justifiably or not
send STRAINED for a scene from my muse's past in which they interact with someone they have a difficult relationship with
send SOBBED for a scene from my muse's past in which they broke down in tears
send LOST for a scene from my muse's past in which they felt lost, literally or figuratively
send BLINDSIDED for a scene from my muse's past in which they were betrayed or shocked by what someone did
send INJURED for a scene from my muse's past in which they sustained a significant injury
send AFRAID for a scene from my muse's past in which they were scared / under threat
send HELPED for a scene from my muse's past in which someone helped / saved them
send CAUGHT for a scene from my muse's past in which they were caught doing something they shouldn't
send BLUSHED for a scene from my muse's past in which they received a compliment that really got to them
send VICIOUS for a scene from my muse's past in which someone said something cruel that really got to them
send SWOONED for a scene from my muse's past in which they were infatuated with someone
send PINNED for a scene from my muse's past in which they were stuck somewhere, literally or figuratively
send GRIEVED for a scene from my muse's past in which they had recently lost someone / something
send MORTAL for a scene from my muse's past in which they had a brush with death, either themselves or someone close to them
lil inbox call! Like this and reply for a specific muse and I'll send something in
♢ — send [ META ] + a word / phrase / person / etc and i will write a head canon around it.
Raptus in the modern times is an amusing concept. Despite the rumours that all the Dread Masters were human, he was in fact not. Raptus is a Sith Pureblood. Which isn't exactly a species seen in the time of the Republic, plus being highly tuned into the darkside, he would stick out so badly. But, as well, he would be quite lost. It was mentioned that the Dread Masters started being driven mad further with the death of Styrak, so with the others being gone, Raptus feels completely empty and confused. Although, unlike other Sith from ancient times, he would not immediately attack a Jedi. Over the eons of being contained on Belsavis, a lot of the madness and power has settled. Still does not mean such power cannot be reawakened the longer he is moving about.
[Starter for @antiquaanima (rex)]
How time trapped flies by like a never ending sleep. Not dead. Not alive. Hust drifting. Until one day..you wake up to the sensation of a living being near you. Your spirit rouses.
His eyes open. Cold and almost icy sensation of life filled the room as the spirit roused from its slumber. Silver glowing hues staring back down at a group of men identical to eachother. The spirit had only just awoken from his slumber. And now he was watching something he hadn't seen since the temple was abandoned years ago.
His Lightsaber lay crumpled on the ground. Handle coated in shards of the substance they trapped it in. As a deep unsettling hiss was pointed into the mind of the one leading them.
What looked to be a Mando of a age of the new. So long he's lived. Attached to this weapon. This beautiful universe was now gone. His armies. His apprentice. Even his body was gone. But now..
His apparition coiled like a snake over the leading man. Sending his pulse. Feeling his breaths. His words. To his men echo through the old Jedi temple. His transparent blue fingers hovering over his head..reading thoughts. Memories in a instant as he smirked.
'Pick it up..' he whispered. His words reaching like a cold icy clamp around his mind like a beckoning siren call.' Take it.. the lightsaber..' each word met by a echoing whisper behind it. Weak as he was. Old and tired. He had power to speak to them from within their souls.
A moment of silence. His hands hovering closer to Rex's temples. Strengthening the connection to him.' Bend..relinquish you're will..'
Maybe it came about from countless battles alongside General Skywalker and Commander Tano -- or well, fighting alongside Jedi no matter the situation -- that started to give Rex a sense of the situations before stepping into the fray. Well, General Kenobi and the other Jedi to say everyone is connected to the Force, some just have more affinity than others. Not like he really bothers with it, he's got his training to get him through fights. He will leave the Force stuff to the Generals. Yavin IV had seemed to have its fair share of history. Perplexing that it became a focus of the 501st, Rex leading a group of a few newer Clones mixed in with his regular picks into an old temple. Skywalker is somewhere nearby, investigating something with Kenobi. He had reassured the two that he would be fine, not expecting there to be something vile or nefarious going on in an old abandoned temple. Rex takes the lead, guns at the ready just in case some creature comes out of the cracks or there is other dangers laying in wait. Moving carefully and observing every point that could be used as an ambush. Strangely, nothing. Still, he remains vigilant, even as the group reaching the inner sanctum of the old building -- a place that had most definitely seen better days. A silent gesture to the others to keep on their toes but take bearings of their surroundings. His own steps carry him towards the center, catching sight of something quite familiar to him, “ Don't touch anything. Jesse, grab one of the Generals. I think they should see. . . ” words trail off for a moment, having to glance over his shoulder to see if he could pinpoint the voice that had just echoed in his mind. When Jesse calls out his name in question, Rex shakes his head, “ They may want to see some of this. I doubt this is Jedi memorabilia. ” He waits for the Clone to nod before heading out of room and back out of the temple before returning to the surrounding. Pick it up. A wince in response to the echoes. There is hesitation, clenching hands into fists -- flexing fingers in and out. Mumbled words so only he himself could hear, “ Like that's not a stupid thought. Pick up the ancient lightsaber of unknown origins. ” There is no mistaking the hilt of a lightsaber, although it looks different than the ones he has seen during the war. Despite the words, his eyes remain fixated upon the ancient weapon. Something triggers that sense he gained from being around the Jedi. Something is not right. . .
The way somebody knows if they are on Jango's good side is when he starts using Mando'a words when talking to them or about them. If really close he will start using affectionate words like cyar'ika or kar'ta or ner kot. He will most definitely not be the one to tell them what the words mean if the other does not know Mando'a. He was also responsible for 1) giving unintentional names to Clones and 2) teaching a few of them Mando'a words including curses // bad phrases like Kaysh mirsh solus or Haar'chak. He was better at holding his tongue when it came to curses around Boba than the Clones he helped train
Rex being surrounded by 3 Sith and a Bounty Hunter: I'm not the one in danger here, you all are 😠 Also Rex: haha. . . I'm in danger 🙃
Ever wondered how Crosshair got his name?
// carrd is "done" aka just enough to be posted. I still gotta work on verses and bios but it's enough to include the muses and rules!
Things that are better than sex:
1. when a masked character does the head tilt thingy
Nihilus is a living horror entity. Something you do not want to encounter especially being a force wielder. He latches onto whoever holds his mask like a leech and sucks the life out of them. He offers the person power in exchange to continue feeding his undying hunger, but in majority of cases the person themself becomes a victim. They will be unable to keep up with him, eventually succumbing and becoming another soul devoured by him. He is the equivalent of an eldritch abomination in the SW universe, unrelenting and ever dangerous. Able to reach out and sense those with the force. No amount of preparation can save yourself from him. The only way to counter him is to ensure his mask and holocron are never taken at the same time, or to be a wound in the force yourself
For how long must a clone different from the others be treated like trash. No more. The life sucked freely from him. And the more he held the holocron the more he felt itchy to its powerful presence. The warmth growing outside the aura of cold that spread through the forested area. Icy and black. And yet Cross had felt none of it. As if he wasn't feeling an ounce of its overwhelming icy cold. His breath seen as he breathed like an animal just finished feasting on its prey. A whole platoon dead..his white eyes then..slowly came back into view. His grip on the holocron still tight as he would stumble back. A short lived power trip. A power trip that wore off as fast as it came. His body tingled with the sensation.
He couldn't remember..
All but blackness clouded his mind before a voice in the back of his head screamed.' Wake up.. wake up!' A jolt from his body made him wake up. But not somewhere he recognized. He was in the cockpit of a ship taking the wheel. Already shooting through hyperspace as he groaned from a massive headache.
"What an..odd dream.." he couldn't remember anything.. as if it was all merely a dream that vanished when he awoke. But no..his eyes held a tenderness to it as he looked at a reflection in the glass that made up the view port.
Blood..lots of blood coating his face. Looking at his hand his gaze hollowed. Something inside was telling him how to feel..like his feelings were connected to someone..connected to Nihilus.. he didn't care. It didn't matter..they were Reg's anyway. The fools had it coming..
'They deserved it~'. His own voice hummed at him. His own thoughts twisted even. Then of copper and the crusted blood that lined his nostrils.' What good have they ever done for you? They were going to leave you for dead. You killed them before they could finish the job.' It was true. And there in the corner of the room..was the dim glowing Holocron. Placing the ship into auto pilot he approached it. And picked it up.
"Care to explain what happened to me?" He asked as he looked at viewport." And where we're going?" His mind thought to an old temple or something of simular connection. Sith have many hiding places. And his brothers..
The mention of his squad made his stomach churn in disgust and disappointment. 'Weak..none of them have the power you have..the only force sensitive clone in the history of the clone wars.. no..not a clone..not anymore.
He only had just suspected Nihilus was there because he could vaguely remember the holocron and what happened when he left.
The feeling of everything around him was different. His armor didn't even fit anymore as his head would nearly hit the top of the door. Where before he could walk in without a problem. Taking the holocron with him as he took a walk through the ship. Occasionally coming across dead bodies of Reg's. Barely even giving the bastards a second glance as he began to rip his armor off at the chest. The damn thing started suffocating him as he threw the entire chestplate to the ground. His helmet left behind on the planet now everything else as the door opened to a bathroom. The mirror sharing his new form to his eyes. His eyes wondering amidst his body. Muscle grew as well as his height. His skin slightly paler with a hint of a grey twinge to his veins. He barely looked like a clone anymore. The thing that got him was the blood. And there was alot of it. Was it..the blood of his Reg 'brothers'? It was the worst pain of his life and even then his body still hurt as he placed the holocron on a counter top next to him.
"Your mask..made me into a force sensitive..?" He looked at his hands. Clenching them tight as he curiously reached his hand out towards a hair brush too far to reach from where he stood..before he knew it the item flew into his hand. Just narrowly missing the catch as he laughed for a moment.
"This has to be a dream.." muttering his thoughts aloud with confusion in his tone. Though not very scared. He seemed..ecstatic. so many ambitions..plans to do with this power..he'd be the man that killed captain rex.. the heart of his hatred always laid with the higher ups. Why would the bad batch become anything close to that rank? No.. he'd catch the fool by surprise.. he'd choke him slowly. The only thing he deserved was a slow death. Along with every other Reg..
If his brothers got in his way? They'd be dead men along with them..his interests weren't with the jedi. He had no real interest in them. He wanted to kill..absorb more..more power.." I need more.." he hissed.
"So much more."
It was the effect many would feel. In exchange for the power given by the mask, it would bestow some of the undying hunger of the spirit onto the keeper. It will cause a metaphorical hunger but also the same one that had plagued the spirit since that moment he stopped being a normal man. The power would come and go so quickly, a way to keep the target coming back, craving the power of the Lord of Hunger. Once the carnage is done, Nihilus' attention turns away from what is now silent from life. There is no reason to remain on this place any longer. More must be found. Playing the puppeteer, pulling along the vessel to the nearby ship. Exterminating any pests that still linger around. None of those others matter, they are simple fodder to feed the Sith's hunger. They are are simply that, no matter what face or role they play. Only when the ship is out in space does Nihilus step back -- lingering back in the shadows to once again observe. Watching in silence as the other awakens from what seems to be a trance. How odd, not a outward regret for the death of his own kind -- disconnected from it. The fate that seems deserving of the others. There is still much the Sith must learn about the galaxy's state. In the freedom of space, he can sense all the echoes reaching out, the dots of force flowing through bodies. So many more than before, a powerful nexus far away. They would come soon. Even if when he had been walking the plane of life Nihilus could destroy a planet full of Jedi, such would not be in his favor as a spirit. Still. . . there is the advantage that none of these Jedi would know of who he is. Ancient history seems to have been lost, worn away by the sands and buried with time. The dark side is quite muted in this time, only sensing a few specks amongst the ball of light. Would these modern Sith be even comparable to those he is used to? It would be quite fun to find out. . . The ghostly mask turns, unseen eyes glancing over his vassal. Seems to be far more aware of reality than before -- clarity from the craving of power for the moment. It tickles the spirit there is no fear, eliciting a low chuckle from him. True fear will come, that is the only way anyone will view the Sith Lord. “ My mask is part of what I am -- where some of my power lies. You have but a morsel of the power I hold. ” The room grows uncomfortably cold, causing even the bits of blood seeping onto the ground to begin freezing. Life drawn out of the air once again to the void of the spirit, “ Such will remain. . . ” A few of the lights flicker, one bursting that is closest to the holocron. In a sudden movement, Nihilus is in front of Crosshair, the ghostly hand latching onto the other's chin -- a touch that is ice cold, draining, “ As long as you follow my words. You survive and will continue in my will only because I deem it fitting. ” The ambition is easily something he can work with, but the focus needs to be broadened. These clones do so little to silence the hunger, to begin the process of gaining his presence back to the physical world. Revenge means so little to a spirit so old time has little meaning anymore. These others will fall without their Jedi to lead them -- without their leadership. But first his focus is on gaining strength, finding those with the ties to the Force. It would be a mistake to wander into their territory immediately. Even if they are not privy to his presence from before, a wound in the force could be detected and then investigated. There is no clear way to tell if the Jedi have ways to suppress the dark side or to counter Sith -- considering the lack of those wielding the dark side such could not be disregarded. He must work with the upmost diligence to ensure his revival is certain. “ Prove yourself worth my power, ” his voice remains even, lowering in tone as the room settles back down to the ambient temperature from before, “ Find a world worthy to test my gift amongst this Republic. ”
Kylo despises being called Ben Solo. He never knew the man he was named after and never felt comfortable with Organa or Solo -- since he wasn't even sure Solo was his father's true surname and he was not an Organa by blood. Even Skywalker feels like something he cannot claim. Just given a name with such big footsteps to follow and conflicted if he could live up to that place in the galaxy. Even after embracing the light side to assist in the second defeat of Palpatine, he feels far more comfortable being called Kylo rather than Ben. It is his name and considering after waking up alive, he tends to lean more on the dark side than that of light, it feels more fitting.
There was an eternal connection between Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker. When Anakin had children, it was self-explanatory that Obi-Wan's love and devotion extended to them and then to their children. Perhaps the Force had been pleased enough with his Skywalker-wrangling ability, because Kylo Ren was in distress and Obi-Wan was maneuvered to cross his path.
It was interesting to see recognition on the other man's face. He dipped his head in greeting, a mischievous smile on his lips. "Obi-Wan Kenobi, at your service." Until now he had watched some of the events from everywhere and nowhere, scattered in the Force and at peace. Now he was back in the flesh and had not yet decided whether he liked that. The grey hair had made way for the auburn of his glory days. "Or shall I say Ben? From one Ben to another, the Force works in mysterious ways. You seem to be in a bit of a turmoil, no?"
That is. . . “ This must be another trick of the force. ” Impossible. He would call the man in front of him a liar if not for the impeccable resemblance and how the force resonates. It is true, yet hard to believe. The young boy had been told stories about the one he was named after, a guardian to his uncle and the master of his grandfather. But dead long before he was born. When the question is posed, Kylo shifts his expression quickly -- from shocked curiosity to a defensive and slightly annoyed scowl, “ My name isn't Ben. It. . . hasn't been for years now. ” Even after reaching for the light, it did not set right. A name he did not deserve, one that comes with so many expectations, so much baggage, “ I doubt you can help, anyways, where everyone else failed. ” Both the light and dark failed him ; failed to teach him how to control it. What good would another trying to reach him will do? And it is not as if he is wallowing in his current conflict anymore. If anything has taught Kylo something, it is he cannot let things control him. He is a Skywalker, heir to a powerful legacy of Force Wielders.
hoping to get the carrd done today or at least into a state that it can be posted even with the bios not being complete. The agony of having muses that I want to put a full bio down for because I decided fuck canon they're mine now
