ad astra per aspera

osira santo. xxxv. rebel. architect. jedi knight.

[osiras-blog]

alone together | osira & fein

location: an unused room of the jedi temple date & time: 1/05, 4:00AM tag: @feinkomo​

Osira sits alone on the temple floor, legs crossed, eyes closed, hands folded in her lap. She does not meditate, at least not successfully. She can’t bring the peace of the temple within herself , not now, not after what happened on Jedha. She should be in her office, working, designing, helping. (What good did her help do at the riot? What now does she have to offer?) But she can’t focus, can’t close her eyes and bring herself to a world of solid foundations and intricate networks of hallways. Her eyes close, and she sees the glow of lightsabers, the spilling of blood, and the mouths of civilians, echoing her words.

“What if you’re wrong?”

It had only been a whisper, only four words. But what does it matter if she didn’t mean to say it, if she never intended for anyone to hear? She put words to the feelings of an angry crowd. She should have known better, been better, should have kept her mouth shut and blended wordlessly into the crowd like she was meant to. Four words, and everything changed.

She told herself she came out to the familiar quiet of the Jedi temple for reprieve from the emotions of the underground (sadness, confusion, regret, even here, they echo in her), but the quiet only amplifies her own turmoil. ‘I should be working,’ she thinks, but it’s empty. She hasn’t slept a wink since Jedha (how could she, in the bunks with the others, on a night like this?) - her mind is too tired to work properly anyway. A sigh escapes her lips, and she gives up the pretense of meditation, leaning back on her palms. She opens her eyes to the darkness of the temple, still lit only by starlight, and listens to the quiet.

Then, the soft sound of footsteps on the stone floor. She tenses as she looks over her shoulder,  but relaxes as she sees who it is.

“Fein,” she says, and the smallest hint of a sad smile crosses her weary features.

[osiras-blog]

Plotting Call - Revenant

During the announcement.

Osira feels that something is wrong before she hears it. She’s never been to Jedha, but the names Bail & Leia Organa make something go tight in her chest. Being with rebellion as long as she has, she knows those names well, knows how important they are. She isn’t a fighter. She’s never been a fighter. But her lightsaber hangs heavy at her hip. She is a Knight now, one of the few left with training in lightsaber combat, and a gift for renewing other’s strength. The emotions of the rebel base wash over her, and something tells her has to go. They ask for volunteers, and she raises a shaky hand.

During the extraction.

She stands in the crowd, only meant to be backup, to offer support if things go south. The crowd thrums with emotion, tension building and building, anger and fear, so much of it, all pointed in the same direction. Osira’s hands ball into fists. She cannot meditate here, cannot do anything but be swept away by the waves of feeling. The crowd wants to scream - she wants to scream - instead, she whispers.

“What if you’re wrong?”

She doesn’t mean to say it; it just falls from her lips like an exhale, giving life to the thing so many around her feel. And then the whisper begins to echo through the crowd, begins to get louder. She presses her hands to her mouth, she hadn’t meant for this. But it’s too late, the dam is breaking. She feels it, watches it - the anger building, the tension rising - whispers turning to shouts.

And then, the sound of blaster fire, of lightsabers igniting, of civilians shouting. And then, chaos.

Aftermath.

With shaking hands and a pounding heart, Osira finds herself back on the ship, horrified at what has happened. She should never have come. She should have known. The dread and fear of the New Order seeps into her bones - knowing they’ve been found, that their faces are known - but even they are overcome by an emotion all her own. Guilt. She does what she always does, she goes to those most tired, offering any strength she can. But her hands tremble. She speaks in whispers. She doesn’t dare look her fellow rebels in the eye.

A loose outline of what Osira’s been thinking, feeling, and doing during the first event. Either like this post so I can reach out to you or send me a message (either here or on discord) if you’d like to get a thread going!

In Discussion

Atticus Prior

Noa Niedra

Mathias Ilesar

Fein Komo

Dorian Valara

Rishla Ilesar

[feinkomo-blog]

Ø

The soft scratching of pencil on paper, soaring ceilings and foundations laid deep to last - when he see’s her again for the first time, after so many blood soaked years, those are the first things he feels. She fills the spaces around them with quiet ease, the sharp pain of his past easing, numbing, the edges frayed and erased like some hazy dream he’s already half forgotten, and as their voices echo into the skeletons of the structures she’s created he see’s, for the first time, something beyond hope - a future. 

[nightvales-voice-moved-blog]

Send me a Ø for an inner monologue my character has had about yours.

[astraeax-deactivated20190809]

ARA: OSIRA SANTO

“There is no emotion,” you say aloud, turning once more to your old manta, desperately trying to keep your head above water. “There is…” you cannot bring yourself to finish the sentence. War rages all around you, at every turn you feel the toll it takes - the anger, the fear, the grief. You cannot promise peace, not anymore, not even to yourself.