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Vaelre Detris. Human. Death Witch. [ NAVIGATION | RP Blog ]

[vaelredetris]

PERSONALITY MOODBOARD | VAELRE

[vaelredetris]

carocofiego‌:

Like the Devil’s Got Your Hand ( Vaelre/Caroc | Korriban | 3954 )        — content warning: murder

Caroc does the calculations in his head. By his measure, the one before him is respected among their colleagues, his leash-holder included. Previously it had been explained that devouring allies could prove problematic, but… If they’re an ally and were hunting this one, then surely what they say is law. Despite the uniform and the familiarity, the man in his arms must no longer be an ally. 

It’s not quite a smile, but Caroc’s eyes narrow in pleasure. Regardless of anything else, a snack between meals is always welcome. And he does not know this one, so there is no hesitation or guilt to make its home in the pit of his stomach. 

“Thank you,” He murmurs, just before tilting the man’s chin up towards him. Every Maelibus has their own favored feeding technique, but it has always made the most sense to Caroc to capture the breath from their lungs as he draws the song from their vessel. 

Their lips don’t quite touch, but from the outside it’s almost a kiss, tender and sweet. But for the fugitive’s progressively limp body, but for his panicked hands, scrabbling for purchase as the fear of death breaks through the haze Caroc put him under moments ago. Caroc knows how to sing them through this, is fully capable of easing them through to death as gently as going to sleep, but this is in part a show for the waiting audience. 

It never hurts to appear a touch more frightening. 

By the time the man in his arms is finished, the last violent shudders of death straining against the unyielding strength of Caroc’s arms, he’s an empty shell. A husk of the man that was running through the halls with so much life just moments before. It’s difficult to pinpoint what exactly the force drains out of a being– though the vessel has aged, skin pulling taut and muscles thinning, there is something else missing as well. That undefinable spark of life. 

Caroc drops the corpse to the floor, absent of the care he’d shown just moments ago while holding the man through his last heartbeats. 

“You have made a very good impression,” He returns his attention to his audience, “What should I call you?” 

Vaelre’s heart drums, beat after beat, never missing the tempo. Their breath is stuck on staccato. They follow the lines of what appears to be an exoskeleton. It shines like precious irons and minerals. The captivating scene just a couple of steps ahead of them seizes and commands their attention. Their eyelids never drop even once. 

The last strands of life from the defector is gently coaxed from his body. There’s a weightlessness in Vaelre’s as if they’re intoxicated by the sight alone. They don’t even flinch when the man’s skull strikes the concrete floor below. 

“You can call me whatever you want after that demonstration.” They release the breath that they kept in their chest. Something close to the sound of laughter chases behind it. They toss their hair over their shoulder. They recite a short prayer to the Sith lords from generations before with words that are only spoken in their mind. The talisman doesn’t require an incantation anymore and Vaelre doesn’t view the prayers as such. The habit is burned into their bones regardless. 

Sparks ignite from their palm. They lean down and press their hand over the man’s skull. The threads of lightning bloom around their hand. “I like to play it safe and make sure these fuckers stay dead.” The burning flesh scent signals that it’s been long enough.

“They call me Chimera,” they say proudly. “You got a name?”

[astramessiah]

Visit Original Link

Everything Black (feat. Mike Taylor) - Unlike Pluto

[vaelredetris]

“The wolf does not pity the lamb. The storm begs no forgiveness of the drowned.” from caroc bc Murder Buddies

     「 — @carocofiego | 3954 BBY | Korriban 」

Vaelre continues stroking Vogel along his spine. “Of course not,” they respond. The varactyl shifts around even in his state of slumber. “Power distances those who have it and those who don’t. When you’re that above others, you don’t have to sympathize with them. Your reasoning and actions are in a language that won’t translate to them.”

 A small bug crawls between Vogel’s feathers. Vaelre reaches out. Their index finger and thumb closes in around the bug and squishes it. “Sometimes I wonder why the lamb would insist on expecting the wolf to reject its true nature.”

[vaelredetris]

carocofiego‌:

Like the Devil’s Got Your Hand ( Vaelre/Caroc | Korriban | 3954 )          — content warning: murder

Notes of discord echo off the walls long before the mayhem reaches Caroc. Conflict always has such an interesting sound, such a complex flavor, songs jarring against each other and refusing to harmonize (excepting, of course, those rare times when conflict becomes an intricate dance). Before the shouts have begun, and before anyone has rounded the corner, Caroc is already standing straighter, interest piqued. As the sounds get closer and settle thick on his tongue, he can pick out their familiarity– one passing, a face in the crowd, the other… Finding it’s home in those hazy half-blurred memories he does his best to forget. The earlier days that he doesn’t, can’t, dwell upon. And those more recent, more pleasant times he’s seen them. A rumble starts up deep in his chest as the first order is given, swelling in concert with the end of it. Though he no longer slumps against the wall, Caroc doesn’t make any physical moves towards the defector either. His song first grows, until it fills the space between them, and then focuses down until it’s all that his quarry can hear, and his quarry is the only one to hear it. Finding the man’s song is simple, it is staccato and screeching with fear, standing out harshly among the rest. From there it is simple. Caroc’s song mingles with his, half rising to match and half dragging the man along, until both songs are as one. A single, harmonizing melody. A lullaby. The man’s pulse slows as his steps do, until he’s barely stumbling in Caroc’s direction. By the time Caroc can reach out and touch him, the man’s eyes have begun to droop and he’s barely remaining standing. Like a benevolent protector, Caroc catches him by the shoulders and embraces him. Then, slowly, he turns the man to face his pursuer “Is this a present for me?” Caroc makes eye contact with the one across the way, his song’s effects continuing past the end of the harmony, “How generous.”

The soft whirring tickles Vaelre’s left ear. Their right ear hears the crescendo building up to what sounds like every air molecule is splitting apart. The screech envelops everything within an instant and disappears just as quickly. Vaelre exhales as if they held their breath for minutes. The amulet around their neck used to have a low hum that they aren’t able to pick up anymore. But even now, they’re used to the way it has a slight warmth against their skin when it activates.

Their mouth parts just a touch. This marks the first time they’ve seen Lord Uro’s guard up close. The man they pursued groans as his body becomes limp. Vaelre’s pupils zero in on the delectable scene in from of them, unable to look away. 

“Well, I can’t make a good first impression if I came empty handed,” they smile. They brush hair back, out of their face, with a swift hand movement. “No, really.” They saunter towards the two of them, hands clasped behind their back. 

“Do what you want with him.” The suggestion drips off their tongue like honey. Anticipation fills every pause between their words. As their third execution for the day, there exists a gnawing need for anything to break the monotony. Ever the optimist, Vaelre hopes this won’t end on a sour note.        

[vaelredetris]

very important stats // adapted from a personality test by marshmalines

[vaelredetris]

「 boazshol‌:

He watched her. A thing they did — watching one another, waiting for something neither of them really knew what was coming. A laugh, a snarl, a knife in the gut. That was Sith doing, he was sure. He was never this jumpy until the Empire started calling him theirs. Boaz shook his head, letting her take what she wanted. Another thing they always did — Vael wanted, Boaz gave. 

“Family tends to be a soft spot for most people,” he says, offhandedly. The man had lived close to them and every time the word family was brought up — one of the multitude of trigger words that Boaz used to cause a response and he would cross his arms or put hand on top of the other, all protective or defensive movements. He shook his head at her other questions. 

“Not anything that wasn’t bullshit. He told me the Empire was wrong. Who knew someone could care that much about the Republic that they’d — just up and die for it. Why do you think he’d risk all that for it?” 

             A loaded question. Boaz knew how Vael felt about the Empire — how she staked her whole life on it, breathed it in and brought her own special twist to their instructions. Boaz — did not understand causes. How could something bigger than yourself mean enough to offer your throat to a knife and say cut clean? 

“People buy into false hope.” She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear so she could hear him better. “Like a drug.” Despite the variety of people they’ve had in the chair over time, the responses always felt the same. The captives would say anything to regain the control over their lives that they relinquished once Boaz and Vael got them in the chair. No matter how much they insulted her devotion to the Empire, the conversation ended with her ripping their faith out with her hands. Their blood ran down her palm lines as she folded her hands in prayer.

“I’m glad he had something that he cared so much about. Just so he could die knowing that they didn’t save him. The Republic can’t even save themselves right now.” The curved line formed between her lips and stretched across her face. Her soul was heavy with the sweet comfort of vindication. 

She observed his movements, trying to note any signs that he may be feeling better. It was hard to tell. ( The task was always hard for Vaelre. ) “Whatcha thinking?” she asked. Her chin rested in her hand.

[vaelredetris]

✧ for a caroc!

send me a ✧ and i’ll bold all that apply to your muse.┊ ✖↺ @carocofiego​

I would kill you. ✧ I would physically hurt you. ✧ I would attack you unprovoked. ✧ I would manipulate you. ✧ I dislike you. ✧ You annoy me. ✧ You scare me. ✧ You intimidate me. ✧ I hope I intimidate you. >:3c ✧ I pity you. ✧ You disgust me. ✧ I hate you. ✧ I’m indifferent toward you. ✧ I’d like to get to know you better. ✧ I’d like to spend more time with you. ✧ I’d like to be friends with you. ✧ I’m unsure what to think of you. ✧ I’m unsure how I feel about you. ✧ You are my friend. ✧ You are my best friend. ✧ You are my mentor. ✧ I look up to you. (in a very literal sense) ✧ I respect you. ✧ You are my hero. ✧ You inspire me. ✧ You are my enemy. ✧ You make me happy. ✧ I want to protect you. ✧ I would fight by your side. ✧ I consider you an equal. ✧ I think you are beneath me. ✧ I think you are above me. ✧ I would lie for you. ✧ I would lie to you. ✧ I would sleep with you. ✧ I would sleep by your side. ✧ I would hug you. ✧ I would kiss you. ✧ You are family to me. ✧ I would die for you. ✧ I would kill for you. ✧ I would trust you with my life. ✧ I would trust you with my most precious belonging. ✧ I would trust you with a secret. ✧ I would trust you with my biggest / darkest secret. ✧ I love you (platonically). ✧ I love you (romantically).

[vaelredetris]

[ boaz ] ✧

send me a ✧ and i’ll bold all that apply to your muse.┊ ✖↺ @boazshol

I would kill you. ✧ I would physically hurt you. ✧ I would attack you unprovoked (with physical affection!). ✧ I would manipulate you. ✧ I dislike you. ✧ You annoy me. ✧ You scare me. ✧ You intimidate me. ✧ I hope I intimidate you. ✧ I pity you. ✧ You disgust me. ✧ I hate you. ✧ I’m indifferent toward you. ✧ I’d like to get to know you better. ✧  I’d like to spend more time with you. ✧ I’d like to be friends with you. ✧  I’m unsure what to think of you. ✧ I’m unsure how I feel about you. ✧ You are my friend. ✧ You are my best friend. ✧ You are my mentor. ✧ I look up to you. ✧ I respect you. ✧ You are my hero. ✧ You inspire me. ✧ You are my enemy. ✧ You make me happy. ✧ I want to protect you. ✧ I would fight by your side. ✧ I consider you an equal. ✧ I think you are beneath me. ✧ I think you are above me. ✧ I would lie for you. ✧ I would lie to you. ✧ I would sleep with you. ✧ I would sleep by your side. ✧ I would hug you. ✧ I would kiss you. ✧ You are family to me. ✧ I would die for you. ✧ I would kill for you. ✧ I would trust you with my life. ✧ I would trust you with my most precious belonging. ✧ I would trust you with a secret. ✧ I would trust you with my biggest / darkest secret. ✧ I love you (platonically). ✧ I love you (romantically).

[vaelredetris]

Make us monsters. We’ll show you MONSTERS // @boazshol

[vaelredetris]

「 boazshol‌:

Boaz jumped, too lost in his own thoughts and circling those thoughts with more thoughts to see her coming. He was often fairly aware of those approaching him — he could pinpoint everyone in this room without him having to look, their presence echoing and overlapping and he could feel them. It was one of those special tricks they talked about using the Force. Boaz used it to his advantage — well, until he isn’t paying attention. 

Then was a free for all and Vaelre has more often than not been the one to sneak up on him. His hand went immediately for the blaster he kept close at his hip but recognition and something like relief went through him. Oh. Vaelre. 

                     Little comforts are better than nothing, he supposed. ( Comfort being a loose word. This is not the word often used to describe Vaelre Detris. Chaotic. Wild. Unhinged. But — none of those words knew Vaelre the way Boaz did. Well — listen, listen it’s complicated. )

“And nearly scared the shit out of me,” he said, hand clapping to his chest. “… what? What?” He follows her glanced down at his hands and for the first time seemed to notice the red beneath his fingertips. He wiggled his fingers against the table. “Ah. Right. Thank you.” He accepted the napkins first, wiping away what he could before he went for the pudding. There was a moment of general quiet before Boaz shook his head again and once more ran his hand through his hair. He was going to yank it out one of these days. 

“That was rough. You’d think an old man would break easier than that. I feel like I’ve been — I’ve been yanked through hyperspace by my nose.” He was too tired to think of anything more creative. “Didn’t mean to just walk out on you. Sorry. You have any trouble with him?” 

Boaz always drifted. She used to study his expression for any signs, any hints, at why he often escaped to somewhere she couldn’t follow. At some point, she grew tired of it— Of being patient, understanding, quiet. Now, she formed a habit of digging her hands into any hairline fracture of his trances just to pull him out. She liked watching him get startled as if all that life rushed back into his body at once, causing him to jump. It was amusing. Cute, even.

She took a seat, pulling her knees close to her chest. “Hmm,” she hummed. Her head bobbled from side to side as she thought. “It was fine. I was surprised he held up so well when I made his family appear. Not a damn peep from him for a whole hour. What a sick bastard. Thanks for pointing out his reaction regarding his grandson.”  

The old man spat at her when she switched tactic and used the grandson as the bait. She remembered what he did. When she thrusted her blade into his gut, she remembered. The act was no more challenging than her stabbing her fork into the reheated flash frozen cafeteria meat. It was, however, annoying to clean up. 

“How’re you though? Did he say anything to you?” She made a face at the dry mystery meat that was served. While she waited for Boaz’s response, she took the opportunity to grab her plastic knife and steal a scoop of his pudding. 

[littlewickedthings]

[vaelredetris]

boazshol‌:

「 DIDDLY SQUAT ABOUT YOUR OWN ASSHOLE.    location | outer rim territories. chorlian sector malachor v.   status | claimed by vaelre detris.    content warning | violence, blood, cursing, and boaz’s poor choices. 

—  ●        The food on Malacahor V was decent enough. 

The Base was efficient in making sure that every member, employee, and bumblefuck this side of the galaxy was properly cared for — present company included. He scraped a spoon across the plate, uninterested. It wasn’t the food that bothered him — it was something else. He looked across the table to the empty seat and saw the small pool of blood dripping from the nose of the informant picked up on Artus Prime. The man had picked his head up from the table and grinned, a gruesome red smile and said that they were losing. 

            ( “You think you know a thing or two about wars, boy? You think them Sith got all the answers? You don’t know diddly squat about your own asshole — well, lemme clue you in. You’re losin’.” )

He blinked and the man was gone — had never been there. He was dead now. One quick blaster shot to the head and he crumpled like the rest of them, still grinning. Boaz hated it when they smiled. He hated it even more when their words kept rattling around inside his head. Pushing the plate away, he ran his fingers through his hair and glanced about the small — cafeteria? Eatery? Boaz never learned the actual name of this place. 

The unsettling feeling darkened, his stomach clenched and Boaz sucked in a quick breath. That was as far as it went, the air around him was thick with something he could not explain. They said it was because he could feel the air. The Force — Boaz just knew it was an ulcer in the maker. 

He caught eyes with someone in the … cafe? Restaurant? Really, he should learn the names of the rooms on the Base. He looked a whole mess and that he knew. There was still blood on his fingertips, his clothes that was made all the worse by his vivid red eyes. He hadn’t changed after the interrogation — those words had made it hard for him to be alone. You think them Sith got all the answers? He didn’t — and they didn’t have to know that. The other made a face at him and Boaz made one back. 

             No one had to know. And he hated that too.            

「  content warning | violence, blood, depictions of murder

—  ●        A bleeder, that one. Annoying too.                 Vaelre happily volunteered to get the tinder ready.

Body disposal had less going for it compared to execution. She would choose the experience of feeling the body put up its last fight over standing over the landfill every time. It was glorified babysitting for a corpse transitioning to ash. Today was a rare exception. She dragged the body with a chain, the hooks impaled through the former informant’s chin, through the halls. After a flick of her wrists, the tinder and body went up in flames. The scents of charred flesh and smoke danced hand-in-hand toward a darkened sky. 

A short whistled tune preceded her as she made her way to the cafeteria. The cremation incited an insistent demand from her own body to fill her stomach soon. She hated this place but she went where her partner went. It was one of their unspoken rituals to spend time together after an interrogation. And she was nothing but a lover for rituals. 

She scanned the room for him and found him quickly. Boy. He looked like crap. ( This is why they had their ritual. )

Her face scrunched like she experienced the worst shit of her life. It was her best effort to mirror his constipated face. Maybe it’d get a laugh out of him— Or maybe not. His reaction beckoned a loud cackle from her lungs though. With her devilish grin, she charged forward over to where he sat. She slammed her tray down on the table. 

“Got you some pudding,” she wiggled the cup in front of him. “And napkins.” Her gaze gracefully lowered and landed on his hands. She raised her eyebrows as she held both items in each hand. 

[fearlessskywalker]

The bass was thrumming through the cantina making what little glass there was vibrate as bodies in the dancing pit fit together in strange dances that worked for each species –both humanoid and not. Deamora threw her head back as she ground back against some tall Twi’Lek to the beat and let her lekku pick up every twitch of those close to her. She may be in a cantina for a night out but that didn’t mean she could allow herself to completely let go, she still needed to make sure that she was alert to those around her.

Whipping around she faced the gorgeous dark blue male Twi’lek to grind on his knee all the while pulling him towards her with the force. She wondered what she could get out of this man if sources were to be believed and he was the right one –he was apart of the Order. A human seemed to be making their way through the crowd of the cantina and it had her curious. They had a clear force presence and kriff if Deamora found it fascinating. 

With one final rough kiss to the nameless Twi’Lek, Deamora held her saber into his side and ignited it only quickly enough to tear through the humanoids torso before letting him drop to the ground with a scream of agony. The man had a chance of living even though the wound was serious. After all, it had been cauterized. If he did live it wouldn’t be a pleasant life, but she wasn’t one for mercy killings. Using the mass confusion after the scream he’d let out that had been heard even over the deep bass of the music. Deamora fought her way through the crowd towards that odd presence that was so clear over all of the other force presences within the cantina.

[vaelredetris]

Vaelre allowed the rhythm to pull her body any way it wanted to. Her head swayed with eyes half-lidded. The scream filled the space in the most delectable way. The cantina attendees scrambled like roaches. She remained in the dance pit, soaking in the energy of the venue. The purple montrals entered the corners of her vision. The only sound louder than the scream was the hum of the saber. It melded with the drone of the bass but Vaelre sensed it. She hoped to see more of a fight than this but this was equally fun.

“Long time no see, Dea,” she grinned. She was unsure whether it was her that the Togruta was eagerly looking for ( although she kept her fingers crossed ). “You hogged him all to yourself. Rude.”

[vaelredetris]

CHARACTER QUESTIONNAIRE PROMPT

01. Tell us about your character’s name. Was it given to them or chosen? Does it hold any special meaning? If your character has aliases or nicknames, how did they get them and what do they mean?

CONTENT WARNING: suicide mention //// vaelre was the name of a priestess-in-training who sacrificed herself when mandalorians came to tear down one of the krath temples. she took out the invaders by showing up at their camping site and blew the place up. 

chimera was assigned to her. “a thing that is hoped or wished for but in fact is illusory or impossible to achieve.” they needed a name that they could brand her with. she had to become the enigma they needed her to be. her name is spoken like an omen and is especially foreboding when used in tandem with her partner’s alias.

02. What is your character’s relationship to their homeworld? Do they hold fond memories of it, or do they hate it? Are they still here, and if not, do they miss it?

if given the choice to go back to rhelg, she wouldn’t be against it. it just won’t be super sentimental. home is neither rhelg or the temple walls she grew up in. home isn’t the ashes of her parents who crumbled to their own ambitions or the death witch she called her guardian. for however long her childlike innocence lasted, those years gave her enough fond memories to last a lifetime. she’s not reliant on those feelings. they do provide her with experiences that she can draw from when she plays a role.

03. Describe your character’s relationship with those who raised them. Was it positive? Negative? Neutral? What sorts of ideologies were they raised with, and do they still stand by them now?

she did love her parents. although they tried to push her into believing that the force and the sith was everything supreme in life, she idolized her parents above all. the way they spoke with such devotion towards their beliefs, she saw them as the ones who opened up the universe and hung the moons and stars. now that they’re gone, so is her faith in the practices of the krath belief. there are some beliefs that she can’t help shake herself of, but she knows that she can’t follow in their footsteps.

galentra, thIS MF. if vael’s parents were the ones who held the heavens up, galentra was someone who fell like lightning from heaven. she groomed vael to take her place as a cog in the sith empire. but she didn’t let vael go without giving her the tools to fall back on. to this day, vael won’t trust anybody completely due to her fear of being betrayed again.

04. What is your character’s relationship with the Force? Is your character Force-sensitive? Whether or not they are, do they believe in it? Do they lean more towards the dark or the light or are they somewhere in between?

she yearns for it in the most holy way where she wishes it will stain her through and through. she knows she’s not meant to commune with it in the same way others are. she accepts the closest proximity to it as she can manage. it surprises no one that she would submerge herself in the dark ways of the force if given the chance.

05. What three word would you use to describe your character? What three words would your character use to describe themselves? What three words would someone close to them use?

i’d call her a weaponized manic pixie

vael would call herself “FuN EdG3 L0rD”

boaz would describe her as a “charmingly cute disaster” or “(the) headache i (can’t/won’t) get rid (of)” the latter is more than 3 words and i misused the parentheses but i don’t care. it had to be said

06. Describe your character’s aesthetic. Do they tend towards fashion or function? Do they like to accessorize? How does this extend into their own personal spaces, such as their home or their workspace?

her habits ranges from wearing the same outfit for 3 days straight to constantly changing outfits mid day. and no, the outfits she changes into aren’t always clean. ultimately it depends on if she’s working or not. but her everyday outfits has a lot of gold and deep red tones. long flowing fabrics are fun but she doesn’t always have enough money for those. her workplace is described as organized chaos, but it’s more chaos than organized. she’s a bit of a hoarder. just a tad.

07. What are your character’s vices? Guilty pleasures? Bad habits? Weak spots?

haha. sex. it’s sex. she was taught that sex could be used as a tool to control others. but she also treats it like small talk about the weather because this is how she gets to know someone. for most it’s a quick hack into seeing what their personality is like. but most times she’s just having a great mf time.

she also drinks a lot

as far as bad habits go, she likes poking at her bruises. doesn’t drink enough water. chooses foundation that’s too late for her complexion but says it’s part of her aesthetic. 

she has a weak spot for people who start talking about stuff they’re real passionate in. *chef’s kiss* she loves that shit

08. Tell us about your character’s relationship with food. What are their favorites? Do they enjoy cooking? Are they adventurous? Will they eat absolutely anything or are they hard to please?

will eat cardboard if she has to. she’s the type who puts ketchup on stuff and calls it a day. she’ll try anything once really. 

09. How does your character feel about engaging in relationships—romantic and / or sexual—with others? What is their history like? Do they fall in love easily? Are they constantly in and out of relationships?

she doesn’t do love. she does hate being alone. she’s dated a string of people just because she had the time and found someone attractive. humans, near-humans, aliens, nobody is safe from her! she’s gotten out of that habit for the most part recently. having the work spouse around has “””grounded””” her. like having an external conscience that’s a lot harder to ignore 

10. What is your character’s pain tolerance like? Can they hold their own in a fight, despite injury? If someone hurts them with the aim of gaining information, how much can they take before they cave?

that scene in Umbrella Academy where Klaus was tortured but he got turned on. that’s the approach vael would take with being hurt for the sake of intel gathering. she knows how unsettling it is for other people. when she’s set on something, her stubborn mind will sacrifice everything to reach the goal. sometimes she’ll get so angry that it clouds every pain receptor in her head. she’ll bulldoze her way over to you in a fight, intestines trailing along if need be.

11. What is your character’s weapon of choice? Are they more skilled as a melee fighter or do they have more skill with ranged weapons? What’s their fighting style like? What sort of training do they have behind them?

she wields a mid-length serrated blade. it’s not the most efficient weapon but it is effective for maiming. her combat skills aren’t as refined as other fighters. her fighting style is more sorcery based for mid to long range fights. she specializes in manipulating bolts of lightning.

12. Does your character have any words or catchphrases that they say frequently? Tell us about how they picked them up.

she’s a parrot. she’ll pick up anything she hears often and then lose it if she’s not constantly around it. right now she’s in her “LOOK....LOOK” phase

13. Tell us about a negative experience your character has had with either the Jedi or the Sith, and how this has affected their standing. Whether currently aligned or unaligned with either faction, if forced to choose, how would they side?

there is a distinct memory of a directive officer who questioned whether boaz was purposely letting their captive off easy. the officer used vael as an example to get to her partner. she was left tip toeing the edge of consciousness before the officer had let the offense go. it took her weeks to recover fully. 

despite vael having more negative experiences with the sith than the jedis, the sith culture is all that she knows. she grew up hearing about the monster on the other spectrum of the force for so long, she’s never stopped to question it. she’s convinced that she’s help convert and torture so many of them, that they would not offer the luxury of repentance to her. 

14. How would your character react to seeing a relative or friend on the opposing side of a battle or mission?

::::||| oh you mean, how will she react to being betrayed? she’s grabbing her knife and charging

15. Describe a memory that your character finds embarrassing.

these memories mostly of the nsfw nature. once she tried to sit on someone’s face and accidentally broke their nose. it’s like 60% embarrassing, 40% funny to her

16. What goals does your character hold for themself and what steps have they taken towards achieving them? How far are they willing to go to reach them? What is their be-all and end-all?

essentially, vael aims to go through life unapologetic and uncensored. she outgrew her objective to be stronger than her parents. she realized she doesn’t want to become strength embodied. in actuality, she just wants to be adjacent to it and be in its company. she wants to find something to be passionate and devoted to, something to lend her skills to. the sith empire is the closest thing that fulfills that need

17. What is the one thing your character would change about their life if they were given the chance? What other lives could they have lived as a result?

she would like to have killed galentra before she had the chance to sell vael off. she imagines herself being a vagabond, traveling through space. there’s a part of her that assumes she’d still end up where she is today.

18. Living in such a high-conflict time, how does your character feel about doing what they must to survive? Will they hurt or kill others—either directly or indirectly—to protect themselves and / or those close to them? If so, do they regret it when all is said and done?

it’s kill or be killed. she’s never held others’ life in high regards. if someone needs to be taken down, she’ll get the job done. what is a regret.... if her parents were alive, that would present quite the dilemma for her though. good thing they’re DEAD. D-E-D. DED

19. What is the biggest problem your character is currently dealing with?

adjusting to having her audio perception being out of whack. any time someone talks to her on her right side, she can’t hear shit. 

20. Give us 3+ headcanons of any length or subject matter.

she experiences frequent night terrors. it’s only when she’s absolutely exhausted that her mind won’t jolt the rest of her body awake in the middle of the night. this is why she’ll always be the one who sneaks out first after a one-night stand

she is a really good artist. with her illusion based powers, she’s required to picture the scenes in her mind first. this comes naturally to her as she’s a visual person. she’s completely self-taught

it’s in her gut, this feeling that the other shoe will drop any time soon. she doesn’t know what she’s expecting exactly. it’s not like things are going super well for her, but she is comfortable. she has this paranoia that sometime will change drastically in her life.

bonus. Give us a list of any length telling us why our “fave is problematic.”

cries on command to get sympathy

impulsively spends money

steals boaz’s rings sometimes

takes everything personal

always plays the victim

cackles by default. no giggles. no small chuckles. just cackling.

can’t navigate to save her life

never learned how to drive/pilot either 

stole candy from a baby once

[babelesque]

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What are you? A chaos.

Anaïs Nin, Fire: From a Journal of Love (via wordsnquotes)