#savazh

[serennian]

@savazh​

   He regards the beast before him; a hulking mass of muscle and sinew, of broiling rage and seething strength waiting to be unleashed. Inelegant, perhaps, but impressive nonetheless. He had meant what he’d said to Mother Talzin when she presented his newest servant. And with the right guiding hand to direct such ferocity... “Tell me, Savage: what do you know of the Force?” The training would soon commence, and no doubt be long and arduous as he attempts to refine the animal. But in starting to build the correct approach to doing so, Dooku finds himself struck by an inquisitive notion. One which would only greater inform his methods, beyond any personal satisfaction. That would just be an additional indulgence. “What understanding of it do you hold as we begin on this path? I am curious to know what one such as you could have learned of it on your homeworld.”

[kalesera]

        @savazh​  sent  :    “   you  think  i’m  some  kind  of  monster,    don’t  you?     ”

        “    your  actions  speak  for  you.    ”        the  words  are  sharp,    even  while  the  duchess’  voice  is  low.    bright  eyes  cut  like  glass,    gazing  through  the  transparisteel  of  her  cell.        “    you  have  given  nothing  for  me  to  judge  you  by,    besides  the  works  of  a  monster.    how  many  of  my  people  have  you  and  death  watch  killed?    how  many  more  will  fall,    to  suit  your  whims?    ”

[menaceborn-a]

‘ i feel like my life could still have meaning. ’

he sits across from his brother,   dimmed eyes looking both at  &  past the broad-shouldered silhouette.    he’s been where Sav is  ( or at least where Ayru thinks he is;  he’s never been good at reading people outside of brawls ),   spent most of his life there:  without control of his own existence.    even when he regained the power to command his own path,   it took years before his mind was convinced it was truly so.    now he saw things clearer,   the true color of life no longer diminished by the hand that strikes.

the air is still between them.    this is a delicate subject  &  it deserves more forethought than a hurried reply.      ❝   I don’t believe one’s life could ever truly lose its meaning.   ❞      perhaps he puts too much faith in the force,   but without it,   he concludes,   his life would truly have lost its meaning.    to go on believing it was all for nothing,   no greater plan or atonement for the atrocities committed against him  &  countless others,  that would truly be unbearable.    it was a notion he was not willing to accept.   

reality is malleable,   a product of your will.      ❝   I believe your life has whatever meaning you choose to assign it.   ❞

@savazh​

[nabooarchivedagain]

       @savazh​  asked:  ❝  i  am  not  a  fool.  those  who  thought  otherwise  no  longer  draw  breath.  ❞

       TWISTED,  BROKEN  THING.  her  heart  breaks  and  seizes  in  great  fear  all  at  once  as  she  looks  upon  him——though  she  tries  her  best  not  to  look  for  too  long  or  surely  her  blood  would  freeze  over  like  the  tunnels  beneath  hoth’s  hills.  it  was  not  his  towering  stature  nor  his  horns  that  made  him  intimidating  but  rather  his  GAZE,  piercing  and  burning,  eyes  as  terrifying  as  that  of  his  brother’s.  but  she  has  no  other  choice  to  LOOK,  reading  the  words  spilling  from  his  lips  before  his  merciful  silence  granted  her  an  excuse  to  look  toward  her  feet  once  more.

       ‘  no,  you  are  not  foolish,  ’  she  says,  DARING  to  speak.  ‘  only  the  path  you  follow.  ’

[alligais-a]

frank herbert’s dune prompts. @savazh​​ sent,     “any man who retreats into a cave which has only one opening deserves to die.”

savage opress is not what one would call talkative,  that much has become apparent in the short time that she’s been forced to spend with him.  then again,  she was the one who walked over to him to begin with,  so it might be incorrect to say that she’s been forced;  he may have kidnapped her since,  but really,  what did she think would happen if she went to a gang leader?  oh,  well,  whatever.  whether he’s her captor or something else,  the fact of the matter is that the man doesn’t even answer her half the time;  except now,  when he’s seen it fit to start philosophizing on her.  or perhaps not  —  he follows that strange remark only with silence,  as if his point is so correct that it requires no elaboration.

vencikye suspects that asking him to explain that will be as futile an endeavor as trying to free herself from captivity,  so she’s left grinding her teeth and repeating the phrase in her mind.  a cave that has only one opening.  perhaps he’s referring to the civilians endangered in this mess?  then again,  if you’re cornered by criminals,  it’s not your fault that there’s nowhere to run.  maybe it’s just his general perspective on life,  but why the hell would he feel the need to share that with her?

abruptly,  she realizes that maybe he’s referring to her.  she’s told him she’s the duchess’s niece,  and he’s certainly not stupid.  he must’ve realized that she was sent to safety by her aunt,  and yet she’s out here on her own,  confronting dangerous criminals and risking her neck.  wait a minute.  he’s calling her stupid.  vencikye jerks her chin up and narrows her eyes at him,  giving him her best glare.

“  you’re forgetting to consider that the man might intend to die,  ”  vencikye counters,  her tone as sharp as a knife.  “  or that he might not be retreating.  besides,  who do you think you are to judge who deserves death and who doesn’t?  just because you go around killing people weaker than you,  you think you’ve a right to say they deserve it?  there are people who would say that you deserve to die for committing murder.  maybe you should think about that and get off your high horse.  ”  though she was just lecturing him,  her eyes suddenly soften  and she looks at him almost kindly.

“  i say no one deserves to die.  not a man who retreats into a cave with only one opening and not a criminal,  whatever his crime.  ”  she pauses,  nails digging into the soft flesh of her palms.  “  i’m not sure it matters,  when they’re killed anyway.  ”  she doesn’t mean to say that last,  but the words slip past her lips before she can stop them,  her voice wavering just a little.  “  my mother doesn’t deserve to die either.  the kyrt’sad is still going to m-murder her.  ”

[maraelia]

a foot taps distractedly against the duracrete ground,  the rhythm of the gesture drowned out by the light & cold rain that falls just beyond the edge of the awning under which mara stands,  comfortably dry.  idly,  she tosses a credit with her left hand,  her right resting snugly against the hilt of her saber.   ❝  i don’t want trouble,  &  you don’t look like you do,  either.  ❞

@savazh​