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superprincesspea · 4 years

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Chapter 3: Homeland

Home has never felt so far away.

Masterlist

Edithe remained perfectly still as she sat amongst the endless sobs of her people. She was numb to their despair and tears would be nothing but wasted energy to her now. With her hands bound and a Viking heathen watching her every move she had little else to do but wait, spending the entire night in a trance until one word snapped her awake.

“Ragnar,” someone called and Edithe’s heart jumped.

Everyone in Briton knew that name. It was the name which struck fear into anyone's heart. It was the name of the bogeyman. A warning mothers would use to stop curious children from wandering too far, “Ragnar waits in the cave, Ragnar hides in the tide, Ragnar eats naughty children.”

Edithe’s breathe caught in her throat as her gaze slowly travelled to find the man whose fame was only surpassed by his brutality. He had markings etched around the sides of his head and his hair trailed down his back in a long plait. When his gaze met hers he smiled, his eyes filled with the cunningness of a fox right before it sneaks into the hen house.

She was so transfixed by how he watched her that she hardly even noticed Rollo or the way he began to push through the slaves to grasp her chin and pull her eyes to him with a stern expression. She didn't know what he said but she recognised the reprimand in his tone and pulled her face away from him.

What more could he do to her? He had killed her family and taken her as his slave. Obedience would serve her no purpose except making him happy and she had no intention of doing that. If he disliked the way she looked at Ragnar then she would only look at him more.

Although when she glanced towards Ragnar again she instantly regretted it. She might have hated Rollo but the stories of Ragnar hadn’t just frightened children, they’d frightened her.

When the sun was barely at his peak the heathens began to move out, gathering the slaves like cattle and herding them into two long lines. Edithe managed to linger at the back, quietly saying goodbye to a place which had once held so many happy memories but now lay in complete desolation.

She wondered if her sister was safe, if people would come and give her family the burial they deserved. But more than anything, and maybe selfishly, she wondered if she would ever see this place again. Hope still found shelter in her heart and perhaps that was a childish thing but she clung to the idea that someone would rescue her, or that somehow this would all turn out to be the stuff of nightmares.

But Edithe wasn’t waking up, instead, her weary legs were marching steadily on and as the longboats began to come into view she had no choice but to accept the truth. Nobody was coming to save her. She was leaving her homeland forever and even worse she was leaving it as a slave.

This single thought was enough to make her run, blind panic carrying her feet anywhere they would take her. It wasn’t surprising that her escape was over as quickly as it had begun. Nor was it surprising that her capturer was once again Rollo and his laughter filled her ears as he scooped her up, shouting foreign words to his men who all laughed along with him.

Edithe struggled tirelessly against him. “Let me walk,” she demanded, feeling disheartened without the words to tell him that she wanted to say a proper goodbye to her homeland. To feel the rich soil of her childhood under her feet one last time.

Although, she thought sadly, there was little doubt he would care for sentimentality even if he could understand her. All a man like Rollo could ever understand was cruelty and for as long as she lived she’d never forget the way he’d killed her brother or how much he’d seemed to enjoy it.

With little effort he carried her into the water, the light waves catching her skirts and from there he handed her to a man who was already in the boat before climbing in behind her. With a knife pulled from his belt he sliced open the bindings at her wrists and remained silently towering over her, his bare chest glistening in the sunlight and his eyes just daring her to try her luck with running again.

But she was broken, grief was weighing her heart like an anchor to the deck. On this boat Edithe belonged to him, her fate resting in his calloused hands and although she wanted to cry, she didn’t. She held her head high and watched as the Vikings set sail, and home became nothing more than a forgotten line on the horizon.

The other slaves had all been taken to different longboats, making Edithe the only Saxon on board but she was not the only woman. A viking woman named Solveig was put in charge of watching her. An honour which seemed to displease Solveig as much as it did Edithe.

Solveig seemed to find every excuse to elbow her in the rib or kick the bucket from under her skirts when she was relieving herself. Life on board this vessel seemed impossible. Outside of it there was nothing but endless water. There was no privacy, no familiarity and nothing to do but wait.

Edithe had no idea how long this voyage would take. Already it had been three uncomfortable nights and the idea of another only added injury to her weary muscles.

In contrast to her unhappiness was Rollo, who stood at the front of the ship, relishing the spray as it cascaded over the bow. He was like a boy, carefree with the sun beating down to colour his skin and whenever he caught her watching him his smile would broaden and she would chastise herself for her admission. She still hated him even if he was the only entertainment to catch her eye.

Occasionally he would make his way to sit besides her and point to things, teaching her the strange words of his people. Even if she appeared to ignore him she would be listening, honing her knowledge like the edge of a blade. She never knew when she might need it.

Every time she was forced to feed the contents of her stomach to the neverending sway of the sea he didn’t laugh at her like the others. He soothed his hand across her back and she hated it more than the mockery. She felt like his pet and didn’t want his gentle touches or any touches at all. She pushed him away and it wounded him but only momentarily before he was once more chatting happily or entranced by the water.

And so it went on, night after night on board this strange ship, surrounded by these heathens and their strange words. They didn’t seem to rest. Even when the wind emptied from the sails they carried on, rowing tirelessly with a frightening determination. The same determination they’d brought to her village. If they wanted something they would take it. It seemed no surprise to her now that they had conquered her people.

When land was finally near Edithe could sense a change in the mood. The northmen began to laugh, waving to the other boats and celebrating in their private tongue. No doubt thanking the Gods for their good fortune and looking forward to returning to their families.

Edithe could only watch them, wondering if they could even comprehend the incredible cruelty of stealing someone away and leaving them forever homesick. Of course they couldn’t.

She turned her attention to Rollo. His grin was now as broad as she had ever seen it, crinkling deep lines into his cheeks as if to prove he was a man who loved to smile. Or to mock, she decided bitterly. Though he had done nothing to harm her on the journey she was not fool enough to believe that things would remain the same way on land. He was a northman, no better than an animal in her opinion.

With all the merry faces turned towards home, realisation began to seep into her bones like ice. She could not go with him to this new land. Sorrow had weighed her down long enough. This was her chance, perhaps her only chance. She might die trying to escape but it would be better than a life with these heathens.

She wore no bindings on her wrists, the water had seen to her capture as good as any prison. So while they all cheered and looked towards home, Edithe moved as carefully as she could and climbed from the boat.

Even though she barely made a splash, hitting the cool water was like hitting solid stone. The shock of it caused her to scream which only served to let the water suck into her lungs as she fell into its depths.

She thought first of her mother and then of Rollo and the way he smiled. No, not smiled, sneered. The glisten of the sun seemed to beckon her like the hand of God and her hatred for Rollo stoked her. She was alive and although it would have been easier to sink into oblivion there was fire in her belly.

God did not love those who gave up their lives so easily. She had to fight, it was not a choice but a compulsion of pure instinct. Her legs kicked, desperately pushing her to the surface but it was no easy task.

The shore had seemed so close but as she fought the waves it began to float away while her dress weighed heavily on weary limbs. The sounds of shouting told her that she had been spotted and her heart began to pick up speed, her legs kicking the water wildly.

Behind her she could hear splashing and as she turned her head she spotted Rollo gliding over the waves as easily as his longboats. It was a frightening sight and an even more frightening feeling. The panic began to make her flounder, her strokes losing rhythm in their struggle to out race him and the weight of her skirts finally beginning to win as she sank under the water.

His hands were strong when they grabbed her, dragging her by the bodice of her dress until she broke the surface and sucked in the fresh air with a splutter. He shouted at her in his foreign tongue, the anger in his eyes making the water around them seem even icier and when he produced a long knife from below the water she tried to kick him away.

But he was steadfast, slicing at the bindings of her dress until it began to fall from her. Now she felt weightless but she was not free of Rollo. He held her tight, fighting the waves with tremendous strength to bring them both to safety.

When they reached the shore he dragged her from the water, his hands fisted into her undergarments before he let her fall to the sand, spluttering for air. Part of her thought he might kill her while the other part reasoned he would not have bothered saving her if that was the case. Still, he looked at her violently, his chest rising and falling in ragged breaths.

She looked away from him, her gaze drifting to find some comfort to look upon but there was nothing. A thin strip of beach turned into pebbles which turned into rocks so tall she could not see past them. The only sign of life was a single tree, it’s branches twisted and barren. So she focused on the coarse sand beneath her fingertips, squeezing a clump of it in her palm and watching the way the water bubbled for freedom from her clasp.

This was his home now, his land and may God help her.

#Rollo #Rollo Vikings #Vikings #Fanfiction #Clive Standen #Rollo/OC #Romance #Slow Burn

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dregstrash · 5 years

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“is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?” || kanej modern college au||

Requested by @hestiaforever and this little drabble from this comes from #6 of this list! (this also turned out way longer than I intended- whoops) (if you want a drabble just let me know!)

Inej lived by a certain set of rules-- or more specifically three rules. They are unwavering, unbreakable, and the only things that have kept her sane when the months of being away from her family had been almost too much. Ever since that first trip during her first year of secondary school, they were always reassuring her that the sacrifice was necessary so that she might be able to do something great with her life. If she was another child, she may have kicked and screamed and demanded that she could learn all she could with the circus, with her family.

Unfortunately, Inej was just her, and she dutifully obeyed even if her heart was perpetually homesick. So she went to Ketterdam’s School for the Gifted. She went and was determined to be the star that her parents wanted her to be. But plans sometimes change, friendships that should never have happened happened, and her world of black and white, blended into a silvery gray.

That’s why she needed the rules. It kept her resolve steadfast when she told her parents she was staying for college. It led her away from the insane parties Nina was always throwing in their dorm. And more than once, her rules have let her keep her heart at ease.

Rule 1: Be the flower, but never hesitate to show your thorns

That was something her mother had told her about, and something that Inej regularly practiced. After all, that was how she met Jesper during her second year in school. He was in detention because he got caught trying to orchestrate an underground poker game [I’m telling you, Inej, I was so close to winning that hand Principal Van Eck is just a drip]. And Inej was in detention because some boy was harassing one of the younger girls. Jesper laughed a lot when Inej showed him her bruised knuckles.

Rule 2: Sometimes right and wrong are just words

It wasn’t until their senior year of high school did Inej really know what that rule meant. She had heard Kaz say it ever since they had been partnered up for a science project during their first year. Inej wasn’t entirely sure if it was wise to be trying to form some sort of alliance with the strangely silent and brooding boy. But he had once warned her that the girls in their class were planning on breaking into her locker and putting unsavory pictures of boys to prove that she wasn’t as “innocent as she seemed.” Ever since then, they had stuck together. They stopped the incident before it ever happened, and Kaz, somehow, got them suspended on top of that. Inej felt guilty over it in the beginning, but he said Rule 2, to her and she just nodded.

He reminded her of that as he gathered Jesper, Wylan (who was the surprisingly rebellious son of the principle), Nina (who could sweet talk any teacher into giving her anything), and Matthias (the star football player, cut from the team when he refused to be a part of a hazing ritual concerning the new kid, Kuwei). It was the a week before finals, and Kaz said that Principle Van Eck was blackmailing their fellow senior, Alys, with some horrifying pictures unless she did what she told him. It didn’t take long after that explanation for their particular group to agree to his crazy plans.

Their school still spoke of that day. The day when finals week started, the school opened, and playing over their screens was Van Eck, red in the face as he cornered sweet Alys. They still spoke of the day that papers littered with threatening letters and bribes taken by school board members were plastered on every inch of the hallway and classrooms. They called it the Day of Reckoning. Inej and her friends called it The Ice Court Job.

Rule 3: The heart is an arrow, it demands aim to land true

The saying was a favorite of her father’s. It helped her pick law major, it also helped her want to work for nonprofits up and down Kerch that had to do with abuse victims. This rule allowed her to think clearly when Nina was trying to decide whether they should dorm or find an apartment. This rule guided her steps away from boys with easy smiles and fake promises.

It was a good rule.

Unless it had something to do with Kaz Brekker, because when it came to her long time friend, Rule 3 seemed useless and flimsy.

He was never shy with his cruelty. Kaz wasn’t one to be ashamed of the dark impulses that came to him when someone looked at him wrong. She supposed it had come from the heavy limp that had plagued him for as long as she’s known him. But it didn’t stop her from scolding him. And it didn’t stop him from giving her that condescending look and that annoying smirk.

In the beginning, Inej was determined to keep their friendship to associates. Like that of two partners who could do without the other, but throughout the years, she had started to notice that he treated her different than their other friends. Not in the kind of possessiveness that she’s seen, but in the way that there was always one less wall with her. He seemed to relax his injured leg more when it was just her. The lines on his face would decrease significantly, and in the most quiet afternoons of their study sessions, he would almost look peaceful.

It was in those moments that Inej let her mind wander down paths that it shouldn’t. It led her through ideas that Kaz could tell her how exactly he had broken his leg, why he never seemed to have any family to write or call to, and why he was always trying to keep himself apart. In those daydreams, Kaz was softer, kinder, and maybe not so made out of stone.

But then he’d make some sharp remark and she’d shake her head and roll her eyes. It was useless trying to imagine Kaz as someone different. Kaz was Kaz. And despite it all, Inej preferred him like that.

Though this led to the indecision that warred against her. Did she like him? Did she want to like him? Did it matter? Should she tell him about the offer to go back home and practice law at a local firm? Would he care? Should she care that he cared?

When Kaz was involved, her heart wasn’t sure where to aim.

And that’s exactly what she was thinking as she crept into her empty dorm and kicked open her bedroom door and flicked on the lights.

The sight in front of her was too ridiculous, too unreal, and too unthinkable that Inej thought it might have been a strange delusion from spending all day in her Chem Lab.

“Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?” Inej asked loudly to the prone, pale form of Kaz Brekker.

From what she could see from the doorframe, he was in nothing but his boxers. His pale (and surprisingly muscular) arms were wrapped tightly against her pillow and she had a full view of the lean lines of his shoulders and she felt a hot blush bloom in her cheeks as she noted the shape of his backside.

“Kaz? Did you hear me?” Inej tried louder, but he barely even stirred and Inej felt her shock transform into worry.

Tentatively, she touched his skin, and felt the warmth of her cheeks spread to the rest of her body.

“Hmmm...” He grumbled. She caught the faint scent of alcohol on his breath, but even then she breathed a sigh of relief. At least he was alive.

“Kaz.” She shoved a little harder this time, and was rewarded when one of his dark brown eyes cracked open.

“‘Nej.” He mumbled.

“What are you doing here?” Inej tried to keep her voice calm and patient, even when he turned his body revealing his unfairly perfect chest.

“I-um-” He unwrapped an arm from her pillow and rubbed his eyes awake, “Um-wait-I- I-”

“Do you know where you are?” She felt her brows furrow. This wasn’t like Kaz. He was known to be a drinker, but he was always so controlled and himself.

“I- I thought I was in my dorm room.” He grumbled his face in his hands.

“Your room is further down the hall, remember?” Inej lifted her hand from his shoulder and tried to ignore how cold her room was without her hand touching him.

“Y-yeah,” He shuddered, and still didn’t look at her, “I’m sorry- I didn’t mean to-”

“What happened?”

“I drank. I drank a lot.”

“Yeah, I can smell that. But why? Did Jesper make you buy him drinks again?”

He shook his head. “It’s-” He coughed, and then lifted his face up to hers. “It’s the anniversary of my brother’s death.”

The words sucked all the air out of Inej’s lungs. He had mentioned once or twice that he had lost someone, but she couldn’t stop the deep stab of sympathy she felt at hearing the words come out of his mouth.

She took a step back towards him and, again, put her hand on his shoulder. His dark gaze never left hers.

“I’m sorry, Kaz.”

He gave her a rueful smile, “It happened a long time ago. There’s nothing to be sorry about.”

“But you’re drunk, so it still has to be important. What-what happened?”

He looked away, and the moment stretched on. Inej wanted to take the words back, he had never shared anything about his family before. It almost felt wrong to take advantage of the situation. Just as she was about to put distance between them again, he covered the hand that was on his shoulder with his other hand. A faint shiver seemed to ripple through him, but he kept her there.

“My brother fell in with some bad people. It was the only way he could support us.” He slurred, his eyes growing distant and unfocused, “One day we were riding our bikes through a park, and they jumped both of us. They whaled on me, and when Jordie got his bearings he tried to shield me with his body. Which was dumb, cause then he didn’t see the knife. He died right on top of me.” A faint sheen of tears appeared in his eyes. “And I’ve been dead ever since.”

Inej’s blood felt cold and the weight of his words seemed to crackle the empty space. She watched as Kaz’s eyes started to close again. He looked so much younger now, he wasn’t Kaz Brekker who was the downfall of many a corrupt official and the man to go to for test answers. He wasn’t the man of mystery their classmates were both terrified and attracted to. He was just a boy, drunk and alone.

His head started to droop, and his grip on Inej’s hand began to limp. With some care, she guided his body back onto her bed and made sure his head was propped up on a pillow. She shook out her favorite blanket and tucked him in.

He mumbled something in his sleep, and Inej leaned down to his mouth.

“What was that?” She whispered.

“I-” He mumbled, “I-I don’t feel quite so dead when you’re there, Inej.”

Her heart hammered to that, but before she could respond. Kaz’s breath deepened and lengthened. She had no idea if he would remember this moment. She had no idea if he would remember the way he gripped her hand as she tried to leave or the soft, sadness that lingered on his face.

She set down a glass of water and a couple of Aspirin tablets on the bedside table she felt Rule 3 being brought back into her mind.

If her heart was an arrow, Kaz Brekker’s was the unsteady, rocky target that could either break or undo him. And while every cell in her body wanted to aim for it, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She couldn’t bring herself to even consider trying, because darkness was a dangerous thing that could drown her as well as him. Maybe in the future, when Kaz learned that his soul was more vibrant than he believed and when Inej could understand her own wants, they would be able to look back at this moment and laugh at the ridiculous situation they had gotten themselves into. But until then, Inej flipped the lights off and shut the door.

#kanej #kaz x inej #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #kanej modern au #this was way long #my bad #but i had fun writing this #hope everyone likes it

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iojhcor · 5 years

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H E A D C A N O N S // io.

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?

IO — given to him by his human mother, it came from one of those fairy tales about a goddess who lived on a moon of ice and was pursued by a rival moon. she ran within the shadow of a giant with a great red eye. the giant fell in love with her and called her the jewel of his crown. as they danced together, moon and planet, the giant would hide her away whenever the rival moon appeared on his horizon. hidden shadow-deep, the goddess and the giant were married. to this day, they are lost in their dark space, lost in one another, dancing for the rest of time. io was the name of the moon, the bejeweled crown. JCHOR — was his father’s surname which in the sephi language would translate into roughly ‘the faraway one’ or ‘distant one’. it is derived from a word in the sephi high language that described the beauty of a star on the horizon during the twilight hours.

content warning for torture / violence / abuse.

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?

io was born on coruscant to a human mother and a sephi father — but most of his memories are of the jedi temple. he was brought to the temple when he was five years old and was raised in its shadow and in its teachings. it is the only home he knows. he did not see much of coruscant during his early years aside from minor missions down in the lower levels. even as a padawan, he didn’t much like to explore to it. fond memories, absolutely. does he miss it — in a way, yes. he is homesick for it but he also understands that there is nothing left for him there. it would not be his memories he would be returning to. his home resides in the balance of the force which will never leave him.

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?

given to the jedi at such a young age, io does not remember much of his parents, if anything. he remembers his mother and her dark hair but there is nothing of his father, nothing more of his life before the jedi. raised and trained to be jedi, it is the only life that io knows. along with the other younglings, io learned how to balance the nature of the force inside himself and how that can ripple into the world around him. io thrived in that, lived inside that balance. his masters taught him well, kind and patient and io wanted to learn more than anything. he was a good student and even more, a good jedi.

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?

as a jedi, io’s relationship with the force is that it exists within everything — heartbeat to heartbeat, it is a living thing that intertwines and connects the world together. he centers himself within it and finds his strength there, letting the edges fuzz until the world makes sense again. he very much believes in it and at this point in time, it is the only thing he has left to him. he leans toward the light but his current choices and attitude call that into question.

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

exhausted, sad, trying-too-hard

resilient, steadfast, and honor-bound.

tahir: “belongs in sunlight”

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?

under normal circumstances, io would have leaned more towards fashion. he took time to make sure that he was put together and orderly and while the jedi robes did not offer much in terms of fashion, he did have his own little tastes added to it. a lining of color on his robes, a colorful belt, robes that were made for ornamentation rather than function — the masters had many talks with him about modesty and humility. io never saw it as a means of haughtiness — only that he thought it was pretty. he would also wear jewelry such as ear cuffs, dangling earrings, ring bracelets, and way too many necklaces — he particularly liked feathers and would incorporate those whenever he could. he would also try to incorporate traditional sephi clothing where he could — long, layered sheer robes and ornamental jewels in his hair. much of his fashion tendencies were reserved, however, for ceremonies. currently, io is doing the best he can with what he has. stolen sith uniforms that are singed, ripped and dirty to blend in should someone stumble on him. he’s a little more gaunt at the edges, pulled apart by what all he experienced and he doesn’t at all feel like the jedi he was — but he still maintains order where and when he can. his hair is unevenly chopped, his hands shake too much now to shave, and people don’t look twice at bumbling space vagabonds but at least his face is clean. in his own space, io is very organized and clean. he likes functionality in his space, being able to breathe into it and exhale out of it. he doesn’t have very many possessions and he doesn’t keep much with him. just a place to rest his head and meditate and that works well for him.

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

he tends to keep all his secrets and thoughts and feelings to himself. a part of him doesn’t want to burden others with whatever he is dealing with — often he believes that he has to find the solution for himself. it’s very difficult for him to ask for help because he doesn’t want to appear weak. he will hold everything in until he finally just explodes. io does not like his anger, he doesn’t like being out of control. angry, he will say things that he doesn’t mean and things can get out of hand very quickly. this has become more of a problem due to his new trust issues.

io tries to not indulge in guilty pleasures, keeping a balance within himself and his wants. he did, however, keep small little stashes of jewelry and make up — he enjoys making himself look and feel pretty. he loves luxurious baths and soft things. he’s sensitive to tactile sensations and so things that feel good against his skin he tends to hold onto. they aren’t things he indulges in but he enjoys them.

does things for the aesthetic like meditating in front of a pool of water, staring out at the sunset as he talks, uses high speech when he doesn’t need to.

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?

io is actually very picky about his food. it’s a matter of texture and flavor and certain things just don’t taste right or feel right. he isn’t adventurous because of that, preferring to stick to things that he knows. he likes staple foods because he’s learned to tolerate them and trusts those flavors / textures. he is vegetarian and likes spicy dishes and hearty soups. he absolutely avoids anything remotely related to the ocean / water. if anything even looks like it could be mushy or slimy, he will avoid it. well, when he had means to avoid it. these days, he’ll take what he can get.

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?

a misconception about the jedi is that they cannot love — the jedi can love and they do. love is a powerful thing and a strong part of the force. attachments are only dangerous without balance and can be used against the jedi. it is when love begins to translate into obsession and that becomes possession which quickly devolves into power to possess the object. it no longer is love at that point — it is a tool to collect power and use it for selfish reasons. master aima, his first master who was known for her radical views and zealotry, told him this. io was warned later after her death to take her words carefully. io, however, has had dreams. and in his dreams, he falls in love. it has never been anything that he as acted upon or sought out. the feeling has only ever been a passing curiosity, an interesting thought. he has had feelings before but they’ve all remained undeveloped and io slowly let them go. he doesn’t allow himself to get too attached for people beyond gentle compassion. for love, he has no experience with it and thus has no opinion. it would not be something he would immediately deny, however.

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?

a trained jedi knight, he can very much hold his own in a fight. injured, he is still dangerous as he can also use the force and the powers that lends to him. he can take a lot and that was a surprise to him. io is very naturally stubborn which was a trait that the jedi sought to smooth over as a padawan and for the most part, they did — however, it has come in handy. during his torture, io has managed to to keep himself alive thus far. he doesn’t want to find out what his breaking point would 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?

a lightsaber. he is formally trained for melee combat but he has tried his hand with ranged weapons as well as hand-to-hand combat. his preferred fighting style is form ii, makashi — a very elegant and flowing style. io is very much a duelist, quick, efficient and precise as he doesn’t have brute strength to back him up. he doesn’t like to fight dirty, every battle should be balanced but that doesn’t mean he won’t.

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

not so much words or catchphrases but he goes from speaking casually to speaking rather formally with very little warning. his formal speech or high speech comes from his encounters with sephi folk who are considered elegant high-browed conversationalists. he’ll wax poetic about something he enjoys or he’ll curse every known hell when he’s angry. it peppers throughout his speech and he’ll go from lmao to ‘you’ve set a mountain upon my heart — how can you expect me to take a step when every word you have spoken has hooked sharp claws into my flesh — do you wish to hear me scream? the sound of my agony?” in like two seconds flat.

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?

all of his negative experiences, io lays down at the feet of the sith. for if not for them, the jedi would not have involved themselves with the war. io would not have lost both of his masters. he would not have lost his home, his family, his senses, perhaps even his mind. they have invaded and entangled and trapped every good thing that io as known, spreading that dark corruption through and beyond. he would not be chasing shadows, searching for survivors among the slaugtered, unable to sleep because of the nightmares. he would not have been tortured for four years. he would not have lost tahir. io has never wavered in his faith to the order. he would continue to uphold it and its precepts until his dying breath. ( i say this but also like pls try to make sith warlord au happen. )

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

heartbroken. in many ways, io feel responsible for those around him. he feels that as a jedi, he should be the one to guide them to the right path. f someone decided to stray from that or were twisted from it — io would feel that he failed them.

15. Describe a memory that your character finds embarrassing.

a mission as a freshly made knight just went really badly because he did not ask for directions and he had to listen to several lectures from his masters about the importance of asking for help when one needs it. io understands all of that was important but he was trying to look cool and that did not pay off. this has not stopped him from doing things simply because he feels like it would make him look cool. he also just sometimes says really embarrassing things in high speech and like have to deal with that as people just look at him funny for a whole minute trying to understand what he said.

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?

survival. right now, it’s simply just staying alive. he would like to find the other jedi and seek an end to this conflict but that won’t happen if he doesn’t stay alive long enough to find safety.

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?

io would not change his life given the chance. there would be minor tweaks, things that he would wish he could change but understands that even if he could, it does not mean the outcome would be different. io lives with what has been decided either by himself or by those around him and he continues on. he does not hold onto the past to try and fix mistakes — he pushes forward into the present to fix them.

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 themself and / or those close to them? If so, do they regret it when all is said and done?

io will do what it takes to survive but he would have regrets about killing or hurting someone. he understands that war is war and lives will be taken but he would justify it as self-defense — protecting those close to him and himself in order to survive. one life, however, is not worth more than another. that said, he will absolutely kill someone if he means that he can make it out of this alive.

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

the aftermath of continuous torture. he has night terrors and his hands shake. there are times he stops breathing, echoes of pain that he can’t stop feeling in his body. he is constantly checking over his shoulder for bounty hunters, assassins, or anyone with ties to the sith. this makes getting anywhere very difficult. also tahir.

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

as a padawan, he was very gentle. master aima almost didn’t believe he had the heart to learn combat skills. he would look after those younger than him or those struggling with something. a student struggling to meditate and io would simply sit with them and patiently guide them through it. he was very compassionate and he wanted to be helpful to those around him. his personality has changed over the years but that want to help has not gone away. it’s just buried beneath the torture.

he’s superstitious. he believes in those small little remedies for luck, fortune, and good will. he will pick up good luck charms or little pocket spells or talismans and keep them with him. he has a tendency to believe that when bad things happen, it’s because of a curse which has lead to an imbalance of the force. salt in his pocket, cutting his hair at certain times, crossing his fingers, making symbols, repetitive touching on good luck objects, all of it.

io in his natural habitat probably would be a 1950s starlet collapsing dramatically onto a settee in a silk robe with her arm over her head saying ‘oh, darling!’ as the light falls dramatically and perfectly over her face. but make it star wars.

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

we must always follow the way of the jedi ... Always .... unless we meet that son of a bitch tahir and then we must Fight

lowkey thinks he’s better than u and goes out of his WAY to prove it

“we are Not friends”

“you are and will always be without honor” who talks like that

designates himself as ur dad friend and u have no say in the matter

hogs all the blanket bc “”“i’m cold””” yeah right

will not let a moment escape where he wants to talk to u abt ur life choices and why they’re wrong

“have you ever considered—”

EXcusE Me? ? ??

>:I to >:U in like 3 seconds flat

is honestly just a fancy gay space elf