hello.
so i've decided to move on from roleplaying here. i have felt for a while that the community has become quite toxic and unwelcoming, even though i have not been a part of it for a while. i don't feel it is as welcoming as it may have been.
i am in no way finished with the fox squadron's story. i will still be writing fanfiction. if you would like to ask questions my askbox is open. au revoir!
so iâve been gone for quite a while---and I wanted to bring you all an update. basically, i have been focusing 110% of my energy on college applications. the program i am applying to is extremely competitive and involved. while i still love my characters to death, i just donât feel like i have the energy to write them anymore. therefore, this blog is going on hiatus. i may remake it when I come back---Iâm not too sure. i just wanted to update everyone. i will most likely still be writing on my ao3, and mutuals can always ask for my skype or twitter to keep updated.Â
Lottie has dealt with three of Pazimaâs overdoses. After the second (which Iâm currently planning to include in future writing), she gets all legal right to oversee any medication Pazima is on. Basically, if someone wants to put or give Pazima anything-painkillers, anesthetics, cold medicine, anything-they need to clear it with Lottie first or, more likely, Lottie gives Pazima the drugs herself.
The coupleâs words from the other room were muddled by distance, drowned out by the dull bum bum bum of Adamâs heartbeat coursing through his head. Distantly, however, he managed to make out Lukeâs southern-tinged voice drawling out I donât know if heâs ready for that. The sentence was patchy, but he could put it together well enough. It shifted his balance upon the situation just a little, made his brows crinkle together as the rest of their conversation faded out of his earshot as their tones lowered. It could have meant anything under the sun â hell, Adam never felt ready for anything â but his investigative nature, a kind term for his perpetual nosiness that just so happened to lend itself nicely to his career choices, made him curious. He couldnât think on it for too long, however, as drowsiness and drunkenness made his head dip sharply and unexpectedly, and he settled into the soft cushions of the couch. Lottieâs form approached him again, her hands holding damp cloth.
     He met her eyes, mossy brown irises half-covered by eyelids tinged a dusky purple. By the three hours of sleep he had managed the night before that one or a sister injury to his concussion â or, very well, both â one couldnât tell. â You two look like youâve got some shit to figure out, â Adam said, voice quiet and raspy. His gaze flickered from Lottie to Luke and back again. â Nothing specific, yâknow? And not just because of the bleeding man on your couch, either. â Understated splaying of his fingers, as if to illustrate a point. â Yâjust strike me as the typeâa people who always have a shitton of shit following them around. â He pointed a languid, bloody finger at Luke, smiling lazily with half his mouth. â Trust me, I know âem when I see âem. â
Lottie followed the line of Adamâs finger, resting her gaze on Lukeâs face. She gave a small giggle at his embarrassed face, and nearly chortled at his embarrassed response.
âYou heard that?â he asked, scandalized.
Lottie shook her head, turning back to taking care of Adam. âIgnore him,â she said, in reference to Luke. âHe can be a bit old-fashioned.â
âIâm not old-fashioned!â he protested. âI just donât want everyone in the world knowing about our ar-disagreements,â he corrected.
âIn any case, Luke is right. Itâs none of your business. We have problems, just like any couple. Just like you, in fact.â Lottie raised her eyebrows. âCâmon, youâre one to judge. A little domestic dispute compared to...well, this big one here.â She gestured to the fight by tracing a bruise, brows knitting together as if seeing it for the first time.
She put the rag on the floor, pressing her fingers lightly against his temple. âWhat did you do to your eye? Did this guy punch you, or did you hit the table, or what?!â
A very descriptive and detailed profile of your muse.
Repost with the information of your muse, including headcanons, etc.
If you fail to achieve some of the facts, add some other of your own!
When youâre done, tag 15 other people to do the same!
âââââââââââââââââââââââââ-
{ LIKES }
COLORS:Â Ballet pink.
SMELLS: Cigarras, baked goods fresh out of the oven, strawberries.
FOOD:Â Anything Coruscanti, cakes, and cookies.Â
FRUITS:Â Strawberries, melons.
DRINKS: Vodka, cheap ale.
ALCOHOLIC BEVERAGES? yes [ x] || no [ Â ] ||
â¨FAVORITES: Sharpening her swords, dancing, new ballet shoes.
âââââââââââââââââââââââââ-
{ OTHER DETAILS }
SMOKES? yes [ x] || no [ Â ] || Occasionally [ ]
DRUGS?: yes [ ] || no [ x ] || Occasionally [ ]
DRIVER LICENSE?: yes [ Â ] || no [ Â ]
âââââââââââââââââââââââââ-
DONE! Now tag other 15 people [ or more/less if you want ]: tbh anyone who wants to!!!
â I was, for a short time. Unfortunately, I wasnât able to stay long â- business back home. â She bobbed her head to one side, just so. â I knew you were there, though. I was happy to feel you in the Force so close to safety again. â A pause, and Rosalie let out a gentle chuckle, picking up her tumbler again and swirling the dark liquid inside. â Sorry, â she said, thickly lilted voice dipping low with a casual rasp. â I know you feel strange about that. â
âOh. Good to celebrate with your family, I guess.â
She took a smaller sip of wine, (small for her, at least) wiping the excess liquid from her lips. Her hand shook unconsciously as she set the glass down, running it through her thick hair. ââS alright. I donât feel strange about talkinâ about it, itâs, well, Iâm just sick of people asking stupid questions. Yâknow, what torture was like, or how I escaped, or-well, I guess you wouldnât know.â Lottie went quiet for a moment, realizing she was babbling again. She could almost hear Pazimaâs smooth voice scolding her.
She took a deep sigh, putting a smile on her face. âAnyway, yeah, Endor was nice. I was safer than youâd know.â
For Lottie: Vampire: Someone offers you a chance at immortality. Do you take it, and why or why not?
MONSTER-THEMED IC ASKS: ACCEPTING.
âHeh. You should know above anyone, Rosalie, itâs a sin to live longer than ya should. Didnât you learn that when you were a Jedi?â
âIâm certainly not gonna live forever. Anâ I donât wanna. If someone said I could, I wouldnât wanna take it.â She says her words with a morbid finality, the voice of someone well acquainted with death.
Her mirthless laughter follows her out of the hangar at the mere suggestion. She would not die this day, nor the next.
sheâd died before a mess of unknowns and reawakening haze of pain loss fearâ-
Head shook sharply, ripping herself out from that train of thought.
The stormtroopers are closer to her than the hangar now, she guesses, and follows the closest sound of clattering boots around a corner. The butt of the rifle rises in an instant, smashing into the helm of one of the Empireâs white soldiers. It doesnât hurt him much, but it staggers him long enoughâa blast from the rifle is promptly placed into the chestplate.
Surgical, cold. There was no time for compassion.
Wedge noticed the woman pausing for a moment. It caught his eye, simply because he knew it all too well. Flashbacks. At the least opportune moment.Â
His own rifle (modified by the best, Pazima) helps to shoot the stormtroopers with ease. Even with his shooting, and Daniâs impressive fighting, the stormtroopers continue to bombard the hangar.
âIf we ever wanna get outta here, weâre gonna need some backup,â he calls to the woman, his voice juxtaposed with staccato blaster shots. âLet me comm some of my troops. They can fly in here in a few.â
Taggers : my girl @seraeda
Tagging : anyone who wants to do it and hasnât been tagged tbh.
under a cut cause multimuse part 2/??????????
NEEDINESS:Â Being affirmed and nurtured by others is a central requirement for you to feel safe. This means you can be slow to warm up to other people, which is difficult because what you most need from them is their warmth. Yet you know how to be vulnerable: to let down your defences and accept that you need another person. This lack of pretence is a valuable trait, and ultimately more endearing than the macho efforts others make to deny their childlike sides.
AGGRESSION:Â One part of your character is anger in all its forms: frustration, outrage â and when anger is suppressed â bitterness, grumpiness, and bodily aches. Fundamentally, frustration comes from hope: you get upset because you expect your life will be more than a valley of tears. One way to deny aggression is to direct it inwards, as self-criticism. But youâre at your best when you acknowledge anger, and act it out clearly and in a focussed way, with honour.
EXHIBITIONISM:Â Thereâs a strand in your nature which loves making an impression â perhaps with your clothes, or conversation, or in a self-revealing blog or a novel. You like to dramatise yourself, to pose as a unique, perhaps mysterious person, to joke or exaggerate your part in adventures. Though you might more than once have been called a show off, it is actually a generous tendency: you want to please and entertain others. It could be the start of good teaching and leadership.
RATIONALITY:Â You like clarity and intelligent simplicity and you get frustrated at messy thinking. This can make you seem unreasonably pushy to some, but it is actually a virtue: you are motivated by a horror at pointless effort and a longing for precision and insight into how things and people work. Your ability to synthesise and bring order is essential in producing thinking which is truly helpful.
INDEPENDENCE:Â You donât set out to be different for its own sake; you are more easily guided by what interests and moves you. You are more concerned about what is right for you than about the pressure to fit in. In sex you are more aware than others of impulses which are not entirely conventional. You know the value of selective irresponsibility, of forgetting occasionally about being âgoodâ.
ORDERLINESS:Â You love it when everything is neat and tidy: when there is a proper way of doing things, and you can tick things off the to-do list and know where everything is. So others, at times, are to you unbearably sloppy and messy. And you run into things that canât be ordered (a child, a partner, a colleague at work) which drives you slightly nuts. But your desire for order is a good one when it is focussed where it is needed and when youâre okay with a bit of mess.
AUTHORITY:Â You are good at making decisions; you have a clear sense of what needs to be done and what others should be doing. Played out inside yourself, this tendency drives you to value willpower and self-control. You may be accused of bossiness. But acting on your desire to dissuade, restrain or guide is often appreciated by others â who might secretly like a clear direction, and some firmness.
AGGRESSION: see Lottieâs!
PLAYFULNESS:Â You are good at seeing whatâs funny, at relaxing and finding the pleasure of the moment. Play is random, whimsical, fantasy-driven behaviour which releases internal tension. Because it is detached from some pressures it allows you to act on weirder, perhaps neglected, parts of yourself. The downside is that it is no help in sticking with things that are not much fun but which need to be addressed. So it is well complemented by its opposite, Stoicism.
REVERENCE:Â One part of you dreams of giving yourself up â perhaps just for a while â to a hero or mentor. In the right circumstances you can flourish by letting go of your ego. In your inner life, reverence plays out as a willing submission to your own conscience. In the outside world, you might get frustrated searching for something worth believing in â a country, a person, a company â but you will always be open to feeling respect, admiration and wonder.
helloooo!!! as you can tell, I was back today! I got my wisdom teeth out today, so I will be around this weekend as Iâm basically just sitting around lol. i posted a new chapter of piledriver waltz (finally)! watch that space for more writing as Iâm hoping to post some more as Iâm recovering.
Leia lowered her brow at the familiar face as he walked into her line of vision. âDonât give me that look, Wedge. I come to the cantina all the time.â It was half a lie â she came often on business, or to seek out contacts, but she hadnât gone for pleasure in a long while. It had been months since Leia had relaxed at all, let alone taken a night off. âGlad to see you too. I miss anything interesting?â
âYou do?â Wedge senses the half-truth, but doesnât comment.  âWe seem to be missing each other-then again, I have been drinking at home more often. In any case, Iâd love to see you here more.â His last sentence is definitely a hint of flirtation, the alcohol making him just a tad braver.
âAh. No, not much here-unless you count the Rogues destroying one of the bar tables as âanything interesting.ââ
            â  Ah, do forgive me. Psychometry is the ability to read objects through touch; to find out things about events that took place around it. Sometimes it even works on people, â  she clarifies finally with a sheepish smile.Â
              The nature of the look on her face is slightly amplified by the given compliment ( given she never did know how to react to those ).  â  Classier, you say? Thatâs an interesting choice of word of choice. Somehow I feel as though Iâve lost a fair deal of class over the past many years-â but you have my thanks. âÂ
               The finality of her sentence is punctuated by the arrival at their destination or, rather, their first destination. From here on, they have yet to descend into the planets lower levels to avoid detection.  For the time being, however, Rein finds herself in need of a defence against the overwhelming degree of NOSTALGIA that hits her like a tidal wave.  â  ââââ Is it? Could you âŚÂ describe the sights to me? â  She doesnât really need sight anymore, but the visual image of the planet beyond the energy it expels is all but an outdated memory at present.
Lottie notices the womanâs voice, wistful, but almost accidental. As if she did not want, or really mean to convey it. Itâs one she knows too well-the two women were, after all, going to a planet that was very much a home, albeit at different times.
âOf course,â Lottie said, getting up and sitting in a chair near the pilotâs. âItâs-well, the light, itâs almost blinding. You can see the big ships even from this far away, zoominâ about. All the buildings-at least on this level-they stick out like...like candles, really, havinâ all that light at the top of âem. Every color you could imagine, anâ probably some ya âavenât. It looks like those toys you give a child. Movinâ their liâle ships back anâ forth through a fake city, but itâs real.â
Her voice is cracking a little. Sheâs home. She never even considered the upper levels her home. In fact, in a way, she hates them-a symbol of tyranny, they people who destroyed her home. She almost laughed at herself. If she was getting this emotional just at the surface, when they reached the disgusting, artificially lit, dangerous levels where she grew up, she might weep with joy.
â Help yourself. Please. â She meant it, no jesting humor behind the remark; she knew who she was dealing with. There was, however, a gentle cant to her lips, friendly and welcoming as it always had been. Another sip, demure compared to Lottieâs eager gulps, and Rosalie set her glass down, lacing half-gloved fingers atop one knee, folded over the other.
      â I was so glad to hear of your freedom, Miss Reynard. I would have seen you sooner, had I the time. â
A reddish eyebrow raised, taking a sip of alcohol as the assassin mentally noted the silence of her friend. In any other situation, she may have made a comment on her posture, or perhaps, just how she was-sprawled across the chair and gulping down alcohol by the glass. Her prison sentence may have been five months ago to her, but to most, this was the first time they had seen post-prison Lottie. It was as Luke said-everyone would tread lightly around her. Lighter than usual, at least.
ââFanks,â she said, in-between gulps. ââS not your fault. I couldnât really show my face after. I âad to hide.â
