Swishycapes​ // Lando Calrissian

@cravked​ // Trilla Suduri

even if she no longer felt any kind of loyalty to the empire, or any dependency on the dark side of the force like she had for so long, it would have been a foolish mistake to label trilla as a nice, friendly person. there was still empathy that blossomed inside of her chest, a desire to help people that she did not like to admit existed, but she was all rough edges on the exterior, intense stares and snappy comments that weren’t necessarily underlain with some kind of care. many pieces of who she had been in the past had been recovered in the last two years of isolation and healing, but there were some aspects of her people skills that still needed work.

navigating their way back to the city is no particular challenge for her. although trilla was not particularly familiar with the area, her senses were especially sharp with the use of the living force around her, sensing problems long before they could arise and correcting appropriately. there’s not much of a nicer place to stop in front of, given where they were. but it was water and food, and a chance for the other to get some assistance better for their own long-term goals.

“no.” it wasn’t an interesting answer by any means as trilla stepped inside of the cantina, glancing back to make sure that they were still following. “i don’t like crowds,” she offered as some half-assed explanation, the truth infinitely more complicated than anything that she was willing to explain to a stranger. but despite the lack of interest that she’d displayed before, she did have some questions for them, waiting until they had seated in an otherwise empty corner. “so what’s someone with armor like that doing stuck in the middle of nowhere?” she knew their reputation, at least. “bounty gone wrong?”

At the mention of their armor, she froze. Once content to explain the significance of the metal, the pride that came with bearing its weight, Sabine now bit the inside of their cheek. After...after everything that had happened to Mandalore, the only strangers that asked questions were the ones who saw the metal she bore as a prize, a husk to be shucked and taken as spoils of war. So often these people thought her disposable, some sick challenge to defeat in order to stake their claim to the only piece of her family she had left. It was a move more than one piece of bantha shit had tried to pull on them before. Trilla didn’t seem like a person with ill intentions; they appeared to be a fatigued traveler, just as herself. But the Mandalorian had been wrong before, and the price for this kind of misjudgment was not forgiving.

“Something like that, yeah.” They exhaled thickly, glancing now across the restaurant, scanning for threats. For escape routes. Their breathing quickened as she remembered all of the times she’d been trapped in places like this. Was it safe here? Was someone after them? Who was this person at the table in front of her, to offer their help and accept no thanks? Muscles tensed, and Sabine forced their breathing to slow down. 

Think, chakaar. You can’t keep yourself safe if you’re not calm. The Empire isn’t here. Just talk.

“I came here on the good word of a friend, looking for information. But, all I got was a busted speeder bike and a waste of my ship’s fuel.” A hush fell as Sabine thought of the lightsaber hilt, lying in wait on Trilla’s waist. Flashbacks of the scarlet blades, of eyes filled with hatred and hearts without mercy. Being hunted ruthlessly as a child, guilty by association. Being hunted now. Fingers drummed anxiously on the table. Surely the person in front of her couldn’t be-- If they’d wanted to kill her, they would have done it by now.

“What about you? Can I ask how you found yourself in this backwater system?”

amaryllis :   what is something or someone that your muse takes pride in ? how do they express that pride ?

// Sabine definitely takes gratification in the company they keep. After choosing to leave the Imperial Academy, she was ostracized from their family and spent some time wondering whether or not they deserved the isolation they received. Ketsu’s betrayal only strengthened this resolve and left them in doubt about their worthiness of friendship. This affected her ability to trust, and the first few months with the Spectres were a rough adjustment. Now, though, she loves them all fiercely. Sabine can’t believe that she got lucky enough to make the new family that they did, and they hold the Ghost crew in high respect and admiration. Though they’ll brag about their second family for hours and hours to any willing ear, she might not always vocalize that respect directly to the Spectres. Instead, she likes to focus on silent acts of love. If you find yourself with a new bottle of your favorite spirit of choice, find your blasters checked and polished, or if you feature in one of their artworks, just know-- Sabine truly loves you. // 

@spectreoflasan

generally-scheming​ // Armitage Hux

Hux peered down his nose at his glass, following the proper steps of savoring a new wine as he considered her comment about destruction. They must know about Starkiller, then. Good. Let her spill more and more of her intel in the guise of gloating. The comment about Rens wrinkled his nose, a gesture he hid behind sniffing his wine. And if the absurd pretense of a date meant they were suggesting anything other than professional history, Hux studiously ignored the implication.  “The Knights of Ren are an entire group which I’ve had the misfortune of associating with. You’ll need to be more specific.”  And in doing so, show exactly which cards were in their hand.

Her flirtatious behavior set him on edge.   (And that was exactly the point, wasn’t it?)   He had no doubt the individual across the table would sooner kill him than kiss him, and that, at least, was mutual. Every suggestive whisper or raised eyebrow was met with a narrow-eyed glare or a tightening of his well-practiced emotionless mask. But the mention of his father Brendol cracked the facade, a flash of raw fury lighting up his eyes. Hux smothered the fire and considered his options.

“To disappointing our parents,”  he answered instead, raising his glass to meet theirs. Weighing his words carefully — he had selected this bistro for its acceptance of an Imperially-aligned clientele — he met her gaze with singular intensity.  “Such a decorated figure in his field, my father. I can only imagine how pleased the New Republic would be if anything were to happen to him.”

.

There it was, the flash of emotion behind a facade of indifference. For just a second, this man let go of the carefully crafted mask. Then he quickened back to the haven of professionalism and dug at them, asking her to share what they knew of the Rens. Sabine understood the game. And she knew that he did, too. Perhaps better than anyone they’d had the pleasure of dining with of late. Information could be traded and turned like pawns in a game of chess. And it simply wouldn’t do to lay their playbook out for him to read at his lesiure.

“No, I don’t think I will. You seem like a man who just loves a mystery, Armitage. Besides, a girl’s gotta have their secrets.”

Instead, they zeroed in on his discomfort (anger? hatred, perhaps?) with her casual aside about Brendol. So, they’d guessed right. His name was like a spear, offering a chink in the armor of apathy. She took the gateway with greed, digging a foothold in the injury.

“Oya.” They took a sip of the wine. It would have been pleasant if it didn’t carry so much baggage. But, there wasn’t time for that. The game was in session, and it was Sabine’s turn to move. “I won’t disagree with you on that front. He is quite distinguished and respected, isn’t he? I can only imagine how hard it was for you to grow up in the shadow of such a dignified man. But we’re not here to talk about him, Hux.” They made sure to address him this time by the name shared with his father before echoing his words back at him, “If anything were to happen to him...how would you feel?”

kryzeofmandalore​ // korkie kryze

   Having awoken on Mandalore, Korke wasn’t sure when he was, clearly time had passed as Mandalore had looked far worse than the last time he’d been there. Korkie wasted no time finding a ship that besides a few repairs was still flyable. Korkie now was planning on finding other Mandalorians, they would have to rebuild their world, and their people together. First things first, he had to find his Aunt Bo-Katan. She would know what to do. Much to Korkie’s relief many cantina workers did not want issues with someone in a full suit of Beskar and so were quick to give him the information he asked of them, although he imagined his being polite about his inquiries had added to to their compliance.  

Korkie had received word that there was a Mandalorian sighted at Coronet City on Corellia, and so Korkie quickly made his way there not wanting to lose the lead he now had. Arriving on the planet, it didn’t take long before Korkie finally found the Mandalorian he as looking for approaching them, he removed his helmet, smile on his face.  “It is so nice to finally see another Mandalorian, from what I understand we’ve become a rarer and rarer sight. I am Korkie Kryze of House Kryze, who do I have the pleasure of meeting?” 

@call-me-spectre-five​

Hesitation rolled over their skin like a wave of static. It was electric, the surprise. This wasn’t exactly how she’d planned the day’s events to map themselves out, but it wasn’t by any means a negative. This newcomer seemed friendly enough, and there was something in his armor that she had seen before. The patterns, the linework, it was familiar. The hues were reminiscent of Bo-Katan Kryze’s followers. And at the admission of his name, the younger Mandalorian was granted some semblance of clarity. Following his gestures, she removed their helm, too, and offered an extended hand.

“Su cuy’gar! Forgive me, but...you’re Duchess Satine and Bo-Katan’s nephew, right? I think we’ve met before. I am Sabine of Clan Wren, House Vizsla.” A pregnant pause filled the air before they continued with a question long-anticipated (just one of many). It was one they’d held on to for years, waiting for the right pair of ears to receive. “Perhaps you knew my mother, Ursa?”

She hoped the figure before her harbored no ill will at her alliance shaped by birth. It’s not like there was much family left to be loyal to, anyways.

location: mandalore

characters: tarre vizsla, sabine wren, din djarin

finitefm // tarre vizsla

cracks   of   golden   beskar   GLEAMED   under   the   harsh   light   as   they   watched   the   contrasting   pair   of   mandalorians   make   their   way   through   the   ruins   of   the   square.   one,   purely   unadorned   silver   –   the   other,   the   most   eyecatching   burst   of   color   that   they   had   ever   before   seen.   that   alone   would   have   been   enough   to   draw   their   attention   without   the   force   screaming   like   a   JAI’GALAAR   in   their   ears,   a   resounding   call   of   fate   pulling   them   forwards.

the   silhouette   that   had   graced   a   thousand   mandalorian   memorials   stepped   out   of   the   rubble,   a   hand   raised   in   calm   greeting.   they   had   no   darksaber   to   raise,   but   a   blade   lay   sheathed   on   their   hip.   the   shriekhawk   symbol   rested   like   a   crown   on   the   front   of   their   helmet,   their   dark   cape   swaying   behind   them.   they   looked   as   if   they   had   stepped   out   of   a   LEGEND   to   take   physical   form,   and   maybe   they   had   :   tarre   vizsla,   far   from   their   time,   mand’alor   that   was   and   shall   be.

they   stood   where   once   had   been   a   CITY   ,   now   left   for   the   sand   to   reclaim   as   so   many   pieces   of   mandalorian   history   had   been,   preserved   only   in   holos.   it   was   undomed,   no   longer   suitable   for   life,   but   it   had   been   a   home   to   them.   they   had   laid   their   early   plans   here,   had   raised   their   call   for   vengeance   –   the   site   of   the   old   vizsla   compound,   the   old   vizsla   MASSACRE.   they   had   eventually   left   it   abandoned   during   their   lifetime,   privately   named   the   ground   unholy.   battles   had   raged   there.   history   was   made   there.   the   first   true   test   of   their   darksaber.   it   was   a   place   of   memory,   and   it   burned.

but   the   unflinching   metal   of   their   helmet   revealed   nothing   of   the   ache   beneath   their   boots   as   they   came   to   a   stop   in   front   of   the   pair.   ❛   su   cuy’gar,   ❜   they   greeted,   head   tilted   with   curiosity.   ❛   i   had   thought   this   place   FORGOTTEN.   ❜   they   knew   nothing   of   any   remembrance   by   house   vizsla   before   the   purge.   they   had   barely   begun   to   grasp   the   spread   of   their   name.   they   were   simply   glad   to   find   that   they   were   not   ALONE.

.

The pain was overwhelming. Even without an inclination to the Force, the grief filled their bones, pulled the breath from her lungs. The last few days had been...harsh, to say the least. Never had Sabine been more grateful for the friend at their side, for a companion bound by shared creed and skill. A few nights they had traveled, rising by the light of the sun and eating in what privacy and seclusion could be found among the ruins. Guilt filled her every step, shame flooded their senses as she weighed the cost of their actions in the days of the Empire. But that’s what this was about, right? Making peace with the past?

The passage held its own form of healing, like the sting of bacta spray on an open suture. Finally, they were approaching familiar territory, the ruins of their childhood quite literally brought to her feet. Yet, by the light of the suspended star above, a figure stood, dark armor casting shadows across the wasteland. As they drew nearer, the figure rendered itself familiar, a sculpture given life. One memory flashed vivid, a pilgrimage to visit a famed statue with family in tow. The countless times they’d held this visage in sight-- osi’kyr, was this real?

How was this possible? Sure, Sabine didn’t understand much about the Force, but this? This seemed too haamyc to be true. But, who else had this armor? The stature? Shit, how was she supposed to respond? If they were right, then this was none other than--

“Tarre Vizsla? By the Ka’ra...”

Paralyzed with shock, they fell on one knee, head bowed in respect. Hundreds of times she had seen their image, had read their teachings, but this was something else entirely. And, if they were wrong, at least she had her vod to cover her six.

@beskarbuir​ // din djarin

──   A  HIDDEN  SMILE  FLICKERS,  hinted at with the slightest incline of the helm,  likely read with ease.  well  …  he wouldn’t regard tatooine so harshly,  but he’s known the threats of the land and remains gratuitous towards tuskens who had made traversing such a place bearable.   maybe even agreeable,  while in their company.   the hunter takes heed,  carefully considering her words,  noting how she flutters on the topic.   ‘ just something to keep the ship flying and stomach full, you know ? ’  he understands this well  ─  the mutual circumstance of earning their keep.   she spoke more than he would have,  offered more than he would have,  and he tucks that observation away;  the smallest fraction of himself acquiesces to trust.   even so,  half-curled hands at the sides indicate a wariness imprinted upon him over the years. 

at her proposal,  a tongue runs along the back of his teeth,  as if counting.   most similar situations ended with undesired outcomes,  something he’d been extraordinarily unlucky with in recent memory.   however,  the most invaluable allies had been gained through coaction.   din holds her most visible weapons under scrutiny:  a reasonable personal arsenal, though admittedly,  the beskar would be more than enough.   the bounty wasn’t meager,  either,  and the final confrontation had a chance to languish.  a pause is given to measure the odds. 

pragmatism eventually tides suspicion.  ❝  if we did, it’ll be a quick job for both of us.  ❞  they briefly glance to the horizon,  the destination,  the coming pursuit.  ❝   …  even split in earnings,  and there’s a deal.  ❞

The agreement came quickly. Half the credits each, and the bounty was as good as secured. Sabine had even offered to throw in a bottle of spotchka for the other if the target was acquired before sunsdown. After all, hunting didn’t have to be just business. Why not add a little bit of fun to an already interesting situation?

It had taken a little over an hour’s ride to meet the signal on the tracking fob. The near-endless sand wastes led them to a dusty village good for little more than moisture farming and aggrandized storytelling. Still, by the looks of the settlements, the decorations on doors, there seemed to be immigrants from planets all across the galaxy. It was a good place for refugees to hide out without prying eyes (even the ex-ISB agent they were looking for). Sabine felt a jolt of unease at the size of the town. She really didn’t like endangering innocents if it could be avoided. 

As they trekked through a bustling marketplace, Sabine couldn’t help but notice the stares the two attracted. No doubt one Mandalorian in this corner of the planet was a rarity, let alone two. She was used to these looks, the glares accumulated from childhood on. From the painted beskar’gam to their ever-changing hair (now concealed neatly beneath a similarly colorful helmet), it was easy to draw attention. For just a moment, they wondered if the other warrior felt the same way, if attention hounded at his heels no matter where they traveled. In her experience, it was far easier to be alone. Not just easier, but safer. Still, there was a job to finish (and perhaps an allyship to be formed).

“Time to get to work. You happen to know the area any better than I do, by chance?”

@cravked​ // trilla suduri

it wasn’t that unusual, by all accounts, but perhaps her own standards had shifted with the way that she had spent the last two years of her life. any kind of contact with other sentient creatures was not quite as dreaded as it had been before. she was changing, whether she liked it or not. she couldn’t be miserable for the rest of her life. she realized that she didn’t want to be, either. that meant accepting some of the ways that she had changed.

“you’re lucky i took pity instead of leaving you for the thugs,” she offered, not quite willing to yet let go of her nature to underplay things.

standing up once again with the other, trilla drew her cape around her frame so that it was more hidden. “i suppose you would think that, with that armor that you’re wearing,” she remarked. her words weren’t particularly spiteful, despite the history that she was well educated on. “don’t count on learning too much. if you haven’t noticed, i’m not as chatty as you appear to be.” which was fine by her standards, really. she much rather the stranger do all of the talking.

A glint of light flashed around Trilla’s waist as she adjusted her cloak and Sabine sobered for a moment, struck by the image they saw. It was only a quick glimpse, but it was enough. A lightsaber. This stranger carried with them a lightsaber. 

They averted their gaze, instead focusing on the landscape before them, but she couldn’t deny that her curiosity about the stranger grew. Was she being assisted by a Jedi? Or a Sith? Or, could this traveler, like their friend Ahsoka, be neither? Was she the weapon’s original owner or, like Sabine’s experience with the Darksaber, had it merely passed into her hands over time? Was she here of good will, or did she have an ulterior motive? Sabine didn’t sense any danger from their travelling companion, but she could never be too sure. 

One thing she was certain of was this: as mouthy as she had been, Sabine’s sudden shift to silence would not go unnoticed. Trilla, whoever she really was, was very intelligent, that much they could tell. So, they threw out a quip in response to the other’s taunting.

“Well, that’s okay.You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to. I’m sure these plants make excellent conversationalists,” they teased. “In fact, I bet they’re even better at being brooding and aloof than you are.” She checked their datapad, gathering a quick mental map of the surrounding area. “And it’s only an hour or two’s trek to the next settlement. Unless you know the area better?” 

She would hold conversation and accept what help was offered, for now. After all, it’s better to wait with sharp ears and eyes than walk into the jaws of a Rancor unknowingly.

@spectrcsix 

Star Wars: Rebels // First and last episodes

generally-scheming​ // Armitage Hux

“I prefer documentaries, actually,”  Hux replied through a faint sneer.  “The linear progression of history. Cause and effect laid out in rational sequence. No cheap gimmicks or red herrings.”  He punctuated his answer with a sip of wine to underscore his disdain for this entire conversation.   (Which was growing by the second, now that they had indicated they were too well-versed in these games of intrigue to hand him any more free intelligence.)

He scoffed openly at Wr— at Sabine’s choice of words. No one who had ever met Brendol Hux would call him dignified, not even his friends. Nor could she begin to imagine what it had been like to grow up in Brendol’s shadow, and Armitage had no intention of illuminating her.  “Oh, bereft, yet I might just be able to hold back my tears for love of the Empire.” 

He narrowed his eyes. They were toying with him, dragging out the exchange to watch him squirm. Her opening gambit had been a threat; that meant she would give him nothing unless he offered something more valuable than she believed her   (yet to be substantiated)   blackmail to be. He had to determine their price — continuing to play would only benefit them, not Hux. So he cut straight to the point.  “But you’re right. You are obviously not here to ask after my father’s good health, so what do you want?”

_

The admission almost brought a huff of laughter to pass their lips. Of course he would. Never one to have a little fun now and again. Sabine could tell by now that he was growing impatient (irritable? resentful? at any rate, he was even more tightly-wound than she could have hoped for). His attempt to cut past the foreplay of it all was almost impressive-- if it wasn’t solely for his own gain. He wouldn’t attempt to harm the Mandalorian yet, so long as they proved to be useful. And she had a feeling that the clock was ticking.

“You’d certainly be right on that front, general.” She examined the drink before cautioning another sip, attempting to hint at the contempt they both shared for the man. Ah, but he seemed unamused and unwilling to bait the hook. Perhaps that conversation would have to wait for another, more opportune time...

“Besides the sheer pleasure of drinking with you, I did have a question. Armitage, indulge me, would you? Does anyone else know about your sleeping arrangements with the holonet reporter Alton Kastle?”

@spectrcsix​ // Ezra Bridger

closed starter for @call-me-spectre-five -

“please don’t hit me. or shoot me. or throw something at me!” ezra calls out as he approaches, gritting his teeth. he fully expects sabine to do at least one of those things after the choices he made - not that she thinks she wouldn’t have understood, but that doesn’t mean it was necessarily an easy decision for everyone to have accepted. he gets that. he does.

he stands by it, though, just like he knows kanan stood by his choice despite the cost.

he holds his hands up in an attempt to show he’s not here for a fight, his trademark guilty-embarrassed-bashful sort of smile on his face. not that ezra expects that to be enough to save his ass from sabine’s wrath, but he has to try. right? “would it help to know you’re like - the second person i’ve come to see? so pretty high on the list. that counts for something, right?

Sabine had heard rumors about Ezra since almost right after he disappeared. Where to search wild space, who knew anything, what to do in the face of her loss. After one lie too many, Sabine had closed themself off, prompting weeks of solitude and grief. She had promised herself then that she wouldn’t respond to another false informant, but this, this felt...different. They couldn’t explain it, only that it was a pull in her gut leading to the point of the rendezvous. And…they actually couldn’t believe the figure standing before her.

“Ezra?” They asked, voice weighty with emotion. No, this had to be a trick. It had been a long time (too long) and she couldn’t be lucky enough to win this one. If it was Ezra, what had she done to deserve him back? Why now? But he kept talking and moving and breathing and being so Ezra.

“Ezra! Fuck!” They dropped everything and leapt into him, nearly tackling him to the ground. He was taller than them now, but all she could do was throw her arms around his frame, pull him close. They exhaled into his side, feeling for the first time in months a genuine sense of hope. Kanan was back, and now, so was Ezra. Her family was back, and there was nothing else she needed in this moment. And then, despite his warnings, she gave him a light smack on the back of the head. Nothing that would hurt, but something reminiscent of times when they could show affection through sparring (both verbal and physical). “Copaani mirshmure’cye, vod’ika? Where the hell have you been?”