#anyway ahuska's having a great time

[dingoat]

something something silly dance video

#>.> #THE GANG #Five is participating under duress #ahuska #thirteen #steel crow #five #mojo dojo dream house #probably #anyway ahuska's having a great time

[vexredain]

Perks (and some cons) of Dating :: Vex Redain

“Been said by a well-beautiful lass that I’m either dangerously bold, or dangerously stupid. I’d say I’m much more o’ th’former’n th’latter, but ye know what? I think bein’ both’s what makes me bleedin’ great.”

Both the pros and cons of dating the dashing Captain Vex Redain can be found under the cut below!

Tagged by: @mother-muscles [Thank you!!!]

Tagging: @keeperslovebetrayal, @moonlifter, @moko-ffxiv, @fiendofearth, @zurri-xiv, @kaori-ishikawa, @vayduh, @stygian-steel, @humanrevolt, @ahuska-ffxiv, @elezendad, @chxsingthemoon, and anyone else that sees this and wants to participate! Tag me in it!

Passion. Whether in romance, or a multitude of other activities ranging from sailing to fighting to drinking, Vex takes to them with unbound passion. There’s not much that gets her down, and she lives her life with a staunch, unstoppable belief in the optimistic. Vex is a skilled and passionate romantic who is exceptionally prone to fits of flair, whether it’s by grandiose shows of her affection, or through simple physicality. 

Charm. Perhaps the quality she’s most proud of, Vex has a famously, or maybe infamously, silver tongue. Having spent many of the cycles of her youth travelling across Hydaelyn Vex quickly learnt the importance of charisma from her previous captain, seeing how far it got him and at first doing her best to replicate it. Of course, it’s been a long time since then, and Vex has truly mastered the art of talking herself out of - and into - situations as per her fancy. 

Wealth. A lifetime of privateering, and a particular taste for robbing Thavnairian ships, has enabled Vex to accumulate a large fortune. Having, quite frankly, far more gil than she knows what to do with, Vex lives more than comfortably. 

Confidence. It’s likely that no one could be said to love Vex more than Vex does, and this gives her a near insurmountable amount of confidence in herself, her activities, and her relationships. She’s hardly prone to jealousy when no one could possibly be better than her, or so she thinks, anyway. This brings with it an unrivaled sense of security in any relationship. 

Looks. Vex is a well-built woman who takes more than a little pride in her looks, she invests much of her free time into keeping herself in shape. While Vex is certainly strong, her time is often spent making herself look good, a body more made for showing off. An athletic figure with thickly corded muscles underneath perfect, unblemished grey skin, it’s easy to see why she’s so proud of it. She’s also got a stunning chest. 

Power. The captain of the Navigator’s Prow, a corvette in service to the Maelstrom-aligned Black Sails Privateers, Vex wields a significant amount of personal power, having a crew of experienced privateers who most often serve as the vanguard, as per the Black Sails’ particular choice to specialise in assault operations, not to mention a vessel with a decent amount of cannon. She has a good standing amongst her peers in the Storm and her city-state at large. 

Cons:

Self-Absorbed. Vex’s pride, ambition, and love of herself can often make her completely blind  to the emotions of others, or cause her to appear distant as she’s often wrapped up in, quite simply, herself. It’s also quiet difficult to get through her delusions of grandeur, of which there are many when dealing with one that sees herself at best as the chosen of Llymlaen, and at worst, her daughter. Things can, at times, become too much about her. 

Wanderlust. Never being able to stay in one place for long, Vex is fit to disappearing for moons at a time as she plies her trade across Hydaelyn, and she’s more than equipped to do so in both wealth and equipment. It’s hard to get Vex to stay in one place, and even then, she’s often dreaming of her next adventure. 

Blindness. Not so much in the physical sense, but Vex does tend to find it difficult to relate to others, particularly when they’re vulnerable or acting differently. This might cause her to seem distant, or that she’s creating distance, when in fact she’s simply blissfully unaware. 

Rude. Vex isn’t the most savoury person on the Crystal, and is quite prone to belittling and insulting others when she doesn’t approve of their behaviour, actions, or personalities. If she doesn’t like someone, it can be almost impossible to change her mind on such matters. This can cause problems if she were to take a dislike to friends or family, as Vex has little patience and hardly is one to hide her emotions, thoughts, or feelings. 

Rear. Vex has incredibly narrow hips, as well as not being particularly plentiful in the rear. She’s also incredibly touchy about it, to the point that she wears padded clothing and jackets that make it seem like she has more than she does. This is a sore point, and one that she does not react well to people bringing up. 

Commitment. Being brought up in a staunchly traditionalist Keeper clan, Vex sees the concept of monogamy and eternal bonding, too, as trappings of Hyur, Elezen, and other Spoken. The concepts not existing in her culture have caused her to have a particular disdain for both. 

#vex #character profile #memes

[dingoat]

THE APOTHEOSIS IS UPON US (yaaaay)

Ahuska and Crow decided on a much more niche Halloween outfit this year, but they’re having a great old time with the whole musical alien zombie schtick! (Ahuska tried hard to stay in character and act suitably horrified but couldn’t help offering people poisoned cups of coffee at every given opportunity.)

Anyway this is largely in honour of the fact that after two long years of international travel rescheduling, I finally got to hang out in the same physical space as @koboldgirl again and was introduced to the joy that is ‘The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals’. COME HANG ON MY COUCH AGAIN SOON <3

#halloween #all star's eve #ahuska #crow #the guy who didn't like musicals #tgwdlm #emma and paul #barista ahuska #GET YOUR CUP OF ROASTED COFFEE #(all you gotta do is) #join us and die #8) #it's inevitable #dingoat does art

[dingoat]

Epilogue II

[So naturally I had to get my vengeance on @askshivanulegacy for writing TERRIBLE SADNESS after we spiralled into a pit of what-ifs when Ahuska rolled really really badly against a venomous lake serpent and nearly died (it’s OK SHE’S FINE SHE’S OK she’s pretty much fine I swear). One thing lead to another and we wound up imagining The Worst Ending where nobody’s okay and almost nobody survives.

So anyway, what follows here is bleak. Really bleak. If you’re not keen on character deaths, especially characters choosing death, you’re probably best off turning around right here. Nobody’s having a good time.]

---

His bright blue eyes were the last things she saw before the lake swallowed her.

Good, she’d thought. He’s safe. He’s safe. They can still help him here.

She fought, still, thrashing underwater to free herself from the serpent’s grasp, not realising that it was her jolting movements that eased the venom further through her body, joints slowly seizing up until she could thrash no more.

Against man and metal she’d fought, she’d raged. She’d escaped the cages, she’d been freed of the traps and the lies and the years and years of being used, one master after the next. To finally succumb out in the wild, as part of nature’s great cycle, was not so terrible a thing.

Bubbles drifted upward as she sighed and went slack. Her spirit dissipated from her physical form before her final breath escaped her lungs.

—

Five had always known that his affection for Thirteen was a weakness.

When the remains of the hawkbat had been brought to him, one otherwise perfectly ordinary drizzly afternoon, he became aware of just how wretched a weakness it was. There wasn’t much left of him, and yet it had been enough, more than enough, to make Five finally feel something again.

Regret flooded his walled up heart, and it hurt.

Is this what my life amounts to? He mulled over his third glass of thousand-credit scotch, overwhelmed by the emptiness of his estate. Intelligence had officially retired him, his Ciphers all turned over to other Watchers, the team program abandoned.

Spread too thin, they’d said. Even regular Ciphers work best handled one on one, and the werebeasts always did require very particular care and attention.

A marvel, they’d said. Truly, a marvel, that he’d handled them all so well for as long as he had. He ought to be proud. 

Proud. Proud! Pride had no place in him, any more.

He’d lost his Hawkbat the day he’d turned his blaster on him, without even the nerve to follow through. Things had never been the same, and he’d never found the will to try and seek something new.

For the first time in his life, it wasn’t his sister in his thoughts when Five wept.

He made his arrangements that night, finding himself filling the paperwork for Thirteen’s star at some ungodly hour. Future generations of Intelligence deserved to know who had come before them, who would always be the best. Headquarters could have its star, but Thirteen’s body was his, only his, and his fireplace blazed white hot that night.

Dawn was only a few hours away when Five finally found himself climbing the citadel tower. He still possessed the right equipment from his years on the field, he still knew how to scale the impossible, and yet it almost felt laughable, out, alone, in the dark against the wind and the rain. He would have laughed, had he not remembered that Thirteen used to have flown him up here, for their exercises. Five’s face twisted as an ugly sob rent itself from his lips.

He let Thirteen’s ashes take to the wind and spread where they may. Thirteen had always loved to fly.

You are my undoing, Five had said, the night he’d proposed. He’d known it, even then, even if he’d never guessed it would eventually culminate in this.

He’d dressed well for the occasion, one of his best suits that had been a particular favourite of Thirteen’s. He’d done his hair, for what it was worth, already plastered flat and falling into his eyes after the climb. Lightning still split the sky, thunder rolled overhead. Thirteen was dead, and Dromund Kaas went on as it ever had, the Empire would carry on as it ever had.

Thirteen was dead, and there were few things Five still had the power to control.

He waited until he saw the distant burst of light that assured him his old family home would no longer be owned by anyone. He watched the hearty flames that would erase all that remained of the boy he’d been and the sister he’d lost, ensuring that nobody could take those scattered fragments and twist them into something untrue. And yet seeing his estate consumed by flame offered no balm to the aching, violent wound inside him.

He knew exactly where Thirteen had stood all those years ago, his back to the great and merciless drop below. Five had nobody to face, when his heavy steps took him to that same ledge, but he turned his back all the same. He spread his arms, feeling the rain on his face, the pull of the wind in his hair, and allowed his body to tip backward. By the time his innate survival instinct kicked in and had him claw at empty air, it was too late.

There were many spires and flagpoles between himself and the ground. He hoped one would have the decency to claim him.

—

Crow had felt it when Ahuska died, though he hadn’t know what it was, or why he’d been plagued with nightmares of drowning for a week.

When Thirteen died, he knew.

His grief was deep and profoundly alone. Blakk had left him some time ago, not that he could blame him. Crow had nothing to offer him any more, and it had grown increasingly difficult to try and connect with the little shadow who had robbed him of everything and given nothing in its place.

For a few days, he flew aimlessly, wretched with despair. It shouldn’t matter, not any more, not after all this time without a word.

But it did, it did, it did.

He stared blankly out into the void of space, spinning his ring endlessly about his finger. Why had he kept it? When it had come down to it, when it had really mattered to choose, Thirteen had made it blatantly obvious that he came second. Crow had been a fool to ever believe otherwise. An utter idiot. But he’d have been a happy idiot, living in the bliss of ignorance, had Blakk never returned to them.

He’d done the right thing, getting Blakk out of there.

And the right thing had destroyed the best thing that had ever happened to him.

Crow twisted in on himself, wracked with grief, and very nearly allowed himself to simply perish in the dead of space.

When his grief eventually took on a different flavour, Crow’s thoughts finally turned to Five, and with absolutely nothing left to lose, his weak and shaking hands set the ship’s navigation to Dromund Kaas.

He arrived far too late to change anything.

As he strolled, blank faced, through the charred and crumbled ruins of the Highbridge Estate, he jolted in shock to see another figure there, wearing the face of a ghost. The man was a little taller, his hair a few shades darker, and his face was perhaps a little narrower and leaner than Five’s had ever been. But in his eyes, his nose, the shape of his lips, the resemblance was undeniable.

“You must be the older brother,” Crow said, his voice rough.

“Mmm,” the man agreed mildly, his lips tight, his brow creased. “And you would be…?”

“Aahhh. I… lived here, for a little while.”

Eyes that may as well have been Five’s own appraised him slowly. “He did enjoy entertaining all types. So long as they weren’t blood.”

“Mm,” it was Crow’s turn to mumble a vague response. “If it helps, he left me with even less.”

“My brother never was particularly good at sharing.”

Crow found himself spinning the ring about his finger again, and nearly broke down at the memories that assaulted him. He shuddered, and swallowed. “Nah. He had a generous side, somewhere in there. Stars help me, but he did.”

Five’s brother’s expression was shrewd, and thoughtful. “You knew him in a way he never shared with family. Which is to say, you knew him at all in his adult life. It feels too late for any good to come of this, but… would you care to let me know my late brother a little better?”

Crow wasn’t sure he had it in him to see another dawn. But a conversation, perhaps, he could manage. He could make sure somebody remembered Thirteen, could talk about the man who’d brought out the best parts of the monstrous Watcher. “Offer me a few drinks and promise to tell me about Fi- about the brother you knew first, and you got a deal.”

—

Once she’d abandoned physical life, he had been easy to find. Her soul sung through the Force, and wove itself through all that had been lost, and he was there, she knew it, through every glittering thread that her self had become.

A tiny whisper of a soul, scattered and lost, she drew it in and pulled it together as part of her, and as a tiny, independent thought clawed its way free she realised, she realised that he had never been lost, he would never be gone, not in the way that she’d feared for so long.

Did you get out? Did you get away, are you free…?

The whisper tugged at her, the hope that he’d clung to, the one thing at the forefront of his mind when his soul had been loosed from his body. And there was nothing of him beyond that. These whispers of Blakk knew nothing of the mountains, of Manaan, of the forested world that had eventually taken her. But they knew the meadow, and the market, and the rainbow dew in the early morning light. The wolf wound around the fox, and in the Force they were one.

As they were with every other life that had shaped them and been shaped by them.

None of them could ever be the beings they were without each of the others. For good or ill.

Yes, my fox. I’m free.

#terrible soul crushing VENGEANCE #ugh #werewolf au #an au for the au #the Worst Ending #making each other cry that's what rp is all about right?? #Right????? #wolf and fox #and a crow and a bat and a worst worst boy

[dingoat]

What would happen if Ahuska and Crow discovered they are more biologically compatible than expected and she's now carrying his kiddo?

Hoooo boy! So, I guess, if somehow such things fell completely out of my own hands for some reason, Ahuska’s in character response would be to be completely surprised, and unexpectedly thrilled. The topic of kids has come up a small handful of times between her and Crow, though it’s something she hadn’t even remotely thought about before meeting him, and while ‘having a baby’ has never at all been a life goal of hers, the thought of actually raising a child with him is something she’s definitely daydreamed about and appeals to her. She almost certainly dwells on it more than him; after all, Crow’s been there, done that, lived the single dad life and has experienced having a kid be the center of his world. Even though Ahuska has formally adopted his daughter and loves her as her own, the fact remains that Nela was already on the cusp of her own independence and Ahuska’s impact on who she has grown up to be is minimal. She does her best to impress Mandalorian values on her but is having to watch her travel a very different path anyway, which hurts her heart a little but she’d never ever ever ever breathe that aloud to a soul. Adoption of a young child has always been a peripheral option, but Ahuska’s life has been such that it’s never exactly been prudent to go looking, and certainly none have stumbled their way across the battlefield. They’ve also met a Whacky Sci-fi Geneticist who’s promised them he’d be able to make it possible, but that idea got a lot of side-eyeing and Ahuska has quietly stashed it on the shelf to consider later.

She’d no doubt be forced to actually settle down in one spot for a while, and even though Ahuska has never exactly gone looking for trouble she’d probably have to start making some serious effort to stop trouble coming for her. 

On an OOC note, I’d probably have to do some sort of timeskip or Weird Fake Science or something because writing/playing out pregnancy or dealing with an infant has absolutely zero appeal to me whatsoever, hah.There’s a heap of reasons why I’m unlikely to go there in a hurry; (and that is definitely one of them) but also my Science Brain does kinda buck against hybrids. I mean; I absolutely accept that they’re a Science Fiction staple, that a lot of people really really dig them, and the ‘but how???’ is not a necessary question to answer when it comes to people just having fun with characters and telling a great story. I’ll never tell anyone their hybrid character shouldn’t be, it’s not remotely a dealbreaker for me (hell, I’d never be neck deep in this absolutely fantastic RP experience that has my heart and soul if it was!!) and I will love other people’s hybrids OCs as much as any other, but I’m just not sure I’d make one for myself. Science faff aside, I also prefer biological parenthood as a hurdle for interspecies couples to have to face and discuss and possibly sacrifice for rather than just handwave-everyone-can-have-a-baby, and I think I owe my feelings in that regard to the fact that I so very firmly believe that family is what you make it; family is who loves you and not necessarily who is linked to you by blood.

Sorry if this is a whole lot more than you were anticipating, haha, but it was kinda a loaded question for me I guess! Thanks, anon!

#character asks #ahuska asks #anon

[dingoat]

The Right Way | Part Thirteen

[ previous | the beginning | next ]

In the timeline where Crow turned right, he knew he’d eventually have to face up to his past.

Even though he’d lost all contact with his former comrades, he’d managed to pick up on the murmurings, here and there. Nothing on Nines and Lyrisal themselves, of course… but there were whispers of a breakout at one of the less secure Republic facilities. A place where Crow was reasonably certain some of the lower ranking Deserters had been held; recent recruits, civilians who had not abandoned their army but rather been disillusioned by their former lifestyles, ordinary people seeking a different status quo.

“Come on, are none of you out on this fething frequency anymore? It’s me. Crow. Don’t tell me there’s nobody listening…” But if there was someone listening, they weren’t responding. He’d started trying to contact them again a few weeks back, but to no avail. And with every unanswered signal, he grew increasingly certain that his comm was purposefully blocked, and he knew why.

Coward. For years he’d tried to push it out of his mind, the way he’d fled, the terror he’d known.  No matter that he’d tried to turn things around; no matter that he’d turned his ship back to the fight, it had all come to naught, as they were eventually rounded up and marched into their cells… without him. Because he’d abandoned them. Because he’d been afraid of exactly that. And if the Free People’s Army was mobilising once more, if they were finally breaking themselves free… oh, Nines would never suffer his cowardice to go unpunished.  One way or another, she’d get to him.

He turned his weary blue eyes to the co-pilot’s seat, where Nela was curled up asleep.

Nel.

The only thing that had kept him going all these years. His only reason for being. High paying jobs in his line of work were either extremely dangerous, or deeply unpalatable. She was the reason he’d opted more for the latter, in recent times. Better to do unsavoury work and be able to see to her dinner the following day.

But now… well. It was all going to catch up with him. And he knew he’d have to make sure her future was accounted for before it did.

***

“Well! I think it’s time we pitted our newbloods against one another, get a look at their hand-to-hand skills.” The toned zabrak warrior, chieftain of his clan, turned his eyes to the two newest recruits of Aliit Motir’ang.

Ahuska gulped. Life had certainly taken an unpredictable turn in the last few weeks. She’d never had much hope for being invited into another clan; and especially not now, after the Eternal Empire had rained its blows across the galaxy and soldiers, warriors, tried and proven fighters were all that any rebuilding clan was after.

She’d met Alor Scottrys and his rallymaster, Sydica, doing a simple fodder delivery, overseeing the transport of a crate of live nuna from Dxun to Tattooine. She’d had no idea at the time that their clan were dedicated beast handlers; trappers and trainers both, and in sore need of more hands at that. They didn’t have to watch her handling her sleek silver varactyl long before they extended the offer to join them, and just like that, she found herself telling her old mentor Mirshko’vlk the news, packing her things and getting ready for a whole new life.

Though he was sad to see her go, his pride was undeniable, and the thought of trying to keep her back unthinkable. “Bout time you got yourself off the ranch and out into the galaxy” he’d said, shuffling into her room with a squirming ball of fur and teeth bundled in one arm.

The look that the young Bothan shot him; wide blue eyes, soft and sincere and struck with sudden concern, just made him laugh. “Oh, don’t even think about it, Hus’ika. Don’t you dare think of sticking around on my account. I’ve got Reyr to help around the place, and I’m sure there’s an ad’ika or two down in the Vale that would be happy to earn a few extra credits if she’s not enough. I’ll miss you, sure. The beasts will miss you doubly. But you deserve the chance to make something more of yourself.” The little thing he was carrying revealed itself to be a ten week old Nexu cub with a yowl and a wild flailing of her gaping jaws, at which point Mirshk’ deftly grabbed her by the quills and offered her out to Ahuska. “Here. I know you always wanted one. Something to remember the place by, hm?”

“Oh. Oh shab. Shab! She’s beautiful!” Ahuska scooped her up in an instant, and already those eyes of hers were brimming over. “Vor’e, Mirshk! Vor’e!”

She’d been so busy in the following weeks, she hadn’t even taken the time to settle on a name for the little cub, that now squeezed its way up from her lap and onto the top of the bar at which she sat with her new clanmates. Just a few days prior she’d helped them reclaim their old stronghold, having learned that they’d been forced to abandon it during the galactic conflicts and it had since been settled by a tribe of Sand People. That had been somewhat confronting; as brief and mild as the firefight had been, it was the first time in her life that she’d turned a blaster on another sapient being. But she had handled rifles before, was a reasonable hunter and had been forced to defend herself against dangerous animals before.

This, however? A fist-fight? With a complete stranger? This was something new. And in its own way, completely terrifying.

The man who sat a little way down the bar had to be at least a decade older than her. He’d been lounging there, wise-cracking, making cheeky remarks toward Sydica like he’d known her for years as opposed to having been pulled out of the Hutta swamps and invited back to the clan base only a couple of days ago. Ahuska had been too deathly shy to say anything to him just yet, but now she stared at him, at his bright blue eyes, the brightest she’d ever seen… his shaggy mop of slate grey hair, the rough stubble that accented his jawline and the striking tattoo that coiled its way up the right side of his face…

And then he was turning his broad, toothy grin toward her, and she found herself suddenly shaking her head. “Fight? No… I don’t… I mean I don’t really know how, I’m not sure I’d be any good to… to go up against…”

“Come on,” he said, getting up to his feet and motioning to the door with an incline of his head. For all that he’d been cracking wise and smarmy a moment ago, he now looked so utterly warm and encouraging, Ahuska started to feel herself unravel. “You’ll be fine.”

With her new Alor and rallymaster urging her on, Ahuska followed her roguish new clanmate down to the compound’s arena.

He knew what he was doing; she did not. The fight was short, finished when he delivered a blow to the end of her snout that took her so by surprise she wound up flat on her rear, doing all she could to stop hot tears of pain springing into her eyes. She was hurt, she was embarrassed at her own miserable ability, but she was overjoyed in an utterly inexplicable way.

“I’m going to have to go check in on Nela,” he said, after helping her up and clapping an arm about her shoulders. “But if you want a few pointers some time, I’m pretty sure my tent is right down from yours. Ahuska, was it?”

She nodded, flustered, with her hands pressed to her nose to try and stem the blood flow.

“I’m Crow, not sure you caught that earlier. You did great.” He gave her arm a gentle nudge before heading on his way, and Ahuska felt her heart swell like it never had before.

---

In the timeline where Crow turned left, Ahuska’a knew she’d crossed a line.

One very late night, when she’d successfully completed a hunt that only required the return of the hapless target’s head to receive full payment, she’d set up her camp out in the plains of Dantooine where she’d finally tracked the being down. A pirate of some sort, deserted his crew or double-crossed them or something, she didn’t particularly care about the finer details. Or even the greater details.

He was now just chunks of meat that she was carving up to feed her Anooba, old Rayshe’a, Resol and gangly young E’tad. It was blessedly late, and she was tired, and not looking forward to heading back out to find some game for herself. And so, while stoking her small fire, she came to the conclusion that she wouldn’t. What difference did it make, really? He was already dead. He was about to be devoured anyway. She could go out there and shoot down some animal; some lovely creature that had never crossed her, never done the galaxy a bad turn… or just share the meat with her dogs, a filthy criminal who the galaxy wouldn’t miss.

She knew she crossed a line that night, and felt just enough shame about it that she knew she’d have to keep it from her Clan, distant as she was from them these days. But not enough shame to stop herself.

***

It was a few months later that he tracked her down.

“Ahuska’a Ga’ihlr.”

She looked up from her patch of shade at the man who approached her in the bustling marketplace. A fairly unimpressive looking fellow, old but lean and spry in that way Sith often were, for Sith he surely was, judging by his eyes. “Mmm?”

“The Bothan Butcher?”

“Heh, that what they calling me these days? Easy, E’tad.” She placed a steadying hand at the nape of the young Anooba’s bristling neck. “Who d’you want me to shank, then?”

“Oh, no, no. If it were as simple as that, I’d be quite capable of handling it on my own. I’ve come with more of a… ahhh, business proposition, if you will.”

“Don’t need no partner. ‘n why would you need me if you’re not after a kill?” She spoke with the blunt confidence of one who trusted her reputation to keep her reasonably safe, in the right neighbourhoods.

He was equally to the point. “I need a Bothan. Preferably one with as few scruples as yourself.”

“Hrm?” The look she shot him was equal parts suspicious and curious. “Dunno if you’ve noticed, but I hardly fit the regular mould. Y’ haven’t thought to try Bothawui or Kothlis first?”

“Mmmm, no. I’d rather someone I could trust a little more to actually be on side with me. And, frankly, if you know anything about your own species you’d know why a Bothawui citizen would be less than ideal.”

“Hmf. You’re not really selling yourself, though. Gimme one good reason to hear you out.”

“I’ve watched your career, the last little while. You seem hell bent on punishing the galaxy. Would I be right in assuming it’s because the galaxy took something precious from you, some time ago?”

Ahuska’a stood abruptly, launching into the silver-haired man with a fierce kick to the guts that sent him reeling back a step. “Go feth yourself,” she snarled, pressing forward while her Anooba growled and bristled at her heels. “Before I set my dogs on you.”

He backpedaled swiftly, throwing up his hands in a gesture that was part surrender, part threat, as the dancing flickers of electricity crackled about his fingertips and made it plain he was prepared to defend himself. “What if I told you there was a way to undo that?”

Ahuska’a froze. A bewildering emotion seized hold of her, and it took a few long, furious moments for her to recognise it. Hope. How dare he give her hope. “You’ve got five minutes to convince me before I let my dogs eat you just for suggesting that.”

And so it was that Ulfran brought Ahuska’a on board on his hunt for the Tempus Shard.

=====

Aaaaaaa okay this segment is a little dear to my heart, because not only do we see the moment where Ahuska and Crow meet for the first time... but also the RP where I met @humanrevolt for the first time, too. And what a damned brilliant ride it’s been from that point!! I hope my memory serves it well.

#swtor writing #swtor #swtor fic #the right way #ahuska #crow #ulfran #bothan #bounty hunter #mandalorians #tatooine #my writing #other people's ocs #aaaa