It would’ve been a lie to say she hadn’t grown fond of London over the years. Whilst she could hardly class herself as British, having been raised in the United States for as long as she could remember, there was something about it that felt homely. Not enough to make leaving her father behind in Porto Velho any easier, however...
“I hear the city was fairly uneventful during my absence.” Well, apart from the French bitch who should’ve died, obviously... A pity she’d missed that. Then again, had it stirred pity in anybody but the few animals who deemed her useful? “I don’t know whether to congratulate the good behavior or suggest we cause some trouble to liven things up a bit.”
The USA argues about sex ed and in the meantime Germany has at least two late night shows where a professional female sex expert talks with women and sometimes their partners about their sex life and what makes sex good. No taboos. Literally nothing. I love it
“those flashes are not something you are given for being lucky. we have worked for them our entire lives. we have trained harder and longer than anybody just to be deemed worthy of them. and to have access to better toys.”
despite this ad suggesting only 6 people, there is no limit of how many special forces pilots there are.
wookiepedia stub can be found here.
as TIE pilots all of them have their own ship and an astromech droid.
since they are a part of an elite unit, the have been through a lot - both on land and in space. they are devoted to the order, each other, and staying alive for as long as they can.
they have more stories than they care to tell. mostly because some of them should never reach the ears of their superiors. when you get shot down and stranded on a planet you know next to nothing about things just… happen.
first order TIEs are two seaters, what means that they often work in pairs.
more details will start appearing as the crew grows - for now everything about them is open! that includes their nicknames, personalities and hierarchy.
BLUELINE: reserved for inky
despite getting their nickname from a failed maneuver that almost destroyed their ship, they are known to be good soldiers. trigger happy? yes. suffering from overgrown bravado that only their superiors can control? of course. but they would probably take any hit for their unit and the order.
CENTURION: reserved for lark
oldest living member of the elite, often acting like a stand in superior officer in situations where they can’t receive orders from their real superior officers. most seasoned fighter and good observer. probably the leader of the unit.
QUICKSHOT: reserved for gray
not the best pilot of all, but definitely the best shot. scoring highest on the reflex tests, they have saved other members of the unit (and the whole operations) from untimely end. voted most likely to fall in love with their blaster.
FLATHAT: reserved for ellie
forever toeing the line of insubordination, they are known to have strong opinions on things and not being afraid to voice them - especially out of the officers’ earshot. probably the unluckiest of the unit, but also born with the biggest heart.
OFFICER: reserved for kay
not a part of the unit, but rather a glorified messenger between the unit and the high ranked officers. they are a secretary whose only job is scheduling check ups, meetings and passing along the messages and simpler orders. the unit’s best friend. doesn’t have a droid or a ship.
BOSS: pretty much self explanatory - the high ranked officer of the first order. the fate of the whole unit and the officer (who acts as the boss’ assistent whenever they are not contacting the elite) is in their hands. doesn’t have a droid or a ship.
The rain dripped gently from above, light, fresh, warm. His hair sunk slightly with the weight of the water, beginning to mat across his forehead and neck, as slender arms set down his backpack in the middle of the open field, just grass underneath him and the gray sky above. Off came one shoe, then the other, followed by socks placed inside the now vacant footwear. He nudged his oversized bag softly to cover his shoes, then stepped out into the field.
His chest swelled, hair slick against his forehead now, eyes closed as he turned up to face the heavens. Long arms stretched to the side, tiny motes of light gathering at his fingertips, spreading warmth and light like fireflies across the drizzling scenery, splotches of blue and red and yellow dragging across the world in slow streaks. His fingers continued to gently paint on the world as he spun, legs sliding with toes pointed across the grass, a spinning dance with nature as he continued to let the light spread and streak across the field, tiny orbs of warmth settling on the tips of quivering, straining blades of grass.
His feet came together slowly, toes wiggling against the ground, as his hands found their way deep into his pocket. He was humming, he realized absently, though for how long, he didn’t know. His chin tilted upwards as his eyes closed, water dripping down from the heavens and washing over him as he stood, enjoying the light rain.
