#concordian oc

[bl00dblight]

Unstoppable force v.s. Immovable object

[moonflower-pies]

My Concordian girl so far:

[parmsnik]

Sigh.. have some food chat. I made a new oc. His name is Java Dee. He's a Ecks kisser... their ship name is XD

Transparent version under the cut

[flovverworks]

was thinking about type0 figaro a bit last night again cuz as always im obsessed with that game. but i rly think figaro and machinas dynamic would be interesting aauuughhhh.....boy who was forced to be put into a situation where he becomes lcie talking to rubrum lcie makes me rly. shakes fence. i wish they had him talk with caetuna or zhuyu..............

[asharkapologist]

CRIMINAL CASE OCS, PT 1

This has been a WIP for quite some time, but I have finally finished the OC sheet for my Mysteries of the Past player character, Ethel Evanoff! (Note: she's not the same player character as the rest of the games). Tagging @chelleinyy as asked! Information about Ethel is found under the cut. Spoilers for Mysteries of the Past, and TW for mentions of mild sexism, physical and mental illnesses, and war.

Born in the United States, parents were immigrants from the Russian Empire

Always wanted to be a police officer/detective, but no one in her local departments wanted to hire a woman. However, she’d heard of Concordia’s progressiveness and willingness to give women opportunities other cities were not, and so she moved to Concordia and worked with the Concordian Police Department.

Over the years, grew irritated with corruption and laziness in the police department, and therefore showed great interest in the Flying Squad when it was formed, and was hired by Arthur at age 28 in December of 1897.

Always tried to be a mediator between suspects and the police, not very prone to anger--the “good cop,” if you will. However, this kindness while still being professional led to her growing quite fond of many suspects and liking them as people. This led to her being more affected than other detectives/officers when they died.

The events of Sinner’s End, Coyote Gorge, and Crimson Banks very negatively affected her. Seeing the Flying Squad’s complete inability to catch the Scarlet Slayer in Sinner’s End until she’d already killed countless young women, being unable to protect Vinnie after promising him protection, and being unable to prevent innocent civilians, including children, from being often fatally dragged into the gang war caused immense guilt, and her mental health began to suffer.

After Capital Peak, she was depressed and traumatized, having lost a friend she cared greatly about and not being able to save enough people who counted on her during her career. Her depression worsened when her parents both died in the early 1900s.

After her parents died and not feeling capable of working in a job where she was never able to prevent death, she retired from the Flying Squad, although she remained friends with her former colleagues.

Instead, she began to train to be a nurse, hoping that while obviously she couldn't save everyone, she would atone for all of the lives she couldn't save during her career by being able to actively work to help and save lives, hoping saving lives would assuage her persistent guilt.

Being a nurse didn't "cure" her depression by any means, but she found more purpose as a nurse than she did as a detective. She always smiled when a patient recovered from an operation or illness and was able to return home, and patients loved her for her ability to listen and her care for each individual in the hospital she worked. Additionally, she was able to befriend several coworkers.

Of course, when doctors failed to save patients, she felt the familiar sting of grief and guilt, even if she had nothing to do with the patient's conditions and any operation that failed to save their lives. She continued in her work, working herself to the bone to do her job as best as possible.

When World War I broke out, she was asked to serve as a nurse, considering her background in being more familiar with blood and violence than other nurses, and her high quality of work. While reluctant, she agreed, influenced and swept up in all of the pro-war, guilt-tripping propaganda constantly bombarding her (and everyone else in the nation), and at least hoping that she could still continue to save lives on the warfront.

While serving as a nurse, she was bit by a rabid racoon that wandered into her encampment. It was able to be put down before biting anyone else, and she was able to get a rabies vaccine before she contracted the disease, saving her life.

The war greatly disturbed her, making her PTSD and depression worse. Although she was indeed able to comfort and help many people in the war, the horrific injuries she saw on young men in the war never left her and joined her nightmares, along with images of particularly bad crime scenes she’d seen in her life. 

However, what worsened her mental health most of all is the fact that all of her brothers--her only siblings-- served in and died in the war.

During the war, she fell in love with one of her fellow nurses. They courted, and he was able to bring some happiness, and companionship to her. They wrote letters while stationed in different places, which was a small comfort through the death of her brothers.

He proposed near the end of the war. However, before they could marry, he died in late 1918 of the Spanish flu, leaving her even more grief-stricken and heartbroken.

After the war, she spent time in urbanizing cities, appreciating the hustle and bustle/noise of industrialization over the quietness of nature, where there was little to distract from her troubled thoughts. She frequently painted as a way to cope with/distract from the death and blood she had seen for years, and frequently painted her would-be husband and family.

When war broke out again in 1939, she was in failing health and could not be a nurse again, and struggled to express herself in her art due to her poor health. Hearing of the violence happening again, on an even larger scale, throughout the world greatly distressed her and brought back disturbing memories of the death she had seen in her careers and personal life.

Kept letter correspondence with friends and colleagues throughout her life, but died alone in 1940 at the age of 71.

[nomnomdiary]

Introducing My OC ^_^

⚠️ Mentioning physical illness, mental illness and suicidal thought. ⚠️OC x Canon related ⚠️Death of Alive Character

*I updated the biodata. I have deleted the old post because it underwent some changes*

Enjoy :)

Constance Emily Wood

~

General Bio :

Name : Constance Emily Wood Age : 25 (In the story events), 33 (marrying with Arthur :v) Birth : Concordia, 12 January 1873 (in my HC, the setting is 1898) Origin : Concordia, US Ethnicity : Anglo-American Pronouns : She/her

Personality :

MBTI-Enneagram : ISFJ 6w5 Characteristic : Heartwarming, kind, emphatic, but she has some trust issue with commitment. Likes : Chocolate, flower bucket, ball gown, novel book Hates : betrayal, seeing other people get hurt, incompetence colleague

Physical traits:

Blood type : AB+ Height : 5'1 ft/155 cm Eyes : Brown Hair : Darkest Brown

Family and Love Interest :

Love interest : Arthur Wright

Family : Ernst Wood (Father) ✝, Amelia Wood (Mother) ✝, Edward Wright (son), unnamed grandchild, Constantine Wright (great-grandson)

Affiliation :

Concordian Police Department : Officer (1893-1896) Detective (1896-1898)

Concordian Flying Squad : Detective (1898-1919), Captain (1900-1903), Chief (1919-1929)

Concordia University : Lecturer (since 1910) Professor (since1918)

Characteristic :

Constance is known to be quiet women. Due to her past as an orphan and being shunned by friends, Constance became accustomed to being alone. Her trait faded when she joined The Flying Squad, where she was invited to have lunch with her colleagues while she was used to eating alone.

Because of her past for being black sheep, she has trust issues and like to against authority. She’s so idealistic that led to debates with Chief Wright when her first time in joined the flying squad. She did have a bitter view of the world, but she didn't act cold. She covered it up with professionalism, competence, and the ability to work with other officers. The cases she handled and the people she met taught her the meaning of life. At least, there are still good people who appreciate her behind the cruel world.

Since she was a child, Constance grew up with a million of dreams. Her father always taught her to be optimist and never giving up on dreaming even though they were from the working class. She proved that she worked hard to save money, attend courses, for go to the police academy. Constance shattered the argument that the working class can be anything.

In addition, Constance has a great sense of empathy. Being an orphan and having been bullied in her childhood, she cannot stand to see others suffer. This is disturbs her in working a detective sometimes.

Background story :

Born into a working-class family, little Constance lived with her father, who worked as a construction worker. Her mother passed away during childbirth. Constance became obsessed with becoming a police officer when she saw some police had better live than her when she works to shining the shoes. Her father always taught her optimism and never giving up, despite coming from a working-class background.

Unfortunately, her father died in a fire in their house when she was 5 years old. This horrific event traumatized Constance, especially when she accidentally saw her father's charred body. She developed a strong aversion to eating meat because of it.

There are no family members willing to take care of her so the local police placed Constance in a catholic orphanage in New Haven. She was in a state of deep grief and refused to interact with anyone. Then, she met her first friend, Josephine. Josephine was cheerful and had many friends. She comforted Constance and invited her to play.

After being visited by the police, Constance remembered her dream again. She started working part-time at a textile factory in New Haven. She saved money for her police education and other needs. Unfortunately, this made Josephine jealous of Constance's increasing income. Josephine stole Constance's money and got caught. With her manipulative abilities, Josephine framed Constance as the villain, turning all the people in the orphanage against her. Constance became a public enemy since that.

Constance was bullied by everyone. She was often beaten by her friends who got manipulated by Josephine. There was a time when Constance couldn't take it anymore and fought back against Josephine, easily defeating her and making her nose bleed. This resulted in Constance being punished by the nurturing nuns.

From then on, Constance was frequently punished by the nurturing nuns, always being falsely accused by Josephine. Her back was repeatedly beaten with a stick until it bled and left scars that lasted into adulthood. There was no one who stands with her. Almost no one.

Until one day, she couldn't take it anymore. She decided to attempt suicide by jumping from a building. She was inspired by a girl from the orphanage who had died due to similar act some time ago. When she attempted it one night, her action was stopped by a nun, Aunt Schulz. Constance rebelled and bit Aunt Schulz's arm. She no longer respected anyone, as she felt that it was pointless since she was always blamed even when she didn't do anything. But instead of punishing her, Aunt Schulz embraced her tightly. Surrendering, Constance could only cry loudly in her embrace. Aunt Schulz promised to free Constance from bullying and find her opportunities to reach her dreams.

The next day, Constance's room was moved to the building where the babies were kept. She was free, no longer with the friends who tormented her. She only needed to work to calm the babies there. Soon, Aunt Schulz found an opportunity to earn money again. Constance worked as a nanny at Lady Georgina Uppertown's house. She was thrilled to be able to observe and learn the etiquette courses held there.

Her life in the orphanage continued until she was 17 years old. She left the orphanage and enrolled in the police academy. Of course, Constance faced ridicule because she was a woman and came from a working-class background but she was strong to face it. This bullying was nothing compared to what she experienced in the orphanage. Additionally, she was also deeply shocked that she had to deal with corpses in the police field, where she had trauma related to it. She fought hard to overcome her trauma and succeeded.

She graduated from the academy at the age of 19 and started working as a police officer. At the age of 25, she was selected to be one of the members of the Concordian Flying Squad, an elite police unit specially formed to handle serious cases with selected police officers.

Relationship to other characters : *It's talking about the relationship and some HC from me so it will be different from the game canon*

Isaac Bontemps :

Their relationship is quite good as colleagues. Constance is supportive of him. She comforts Isaac when he is sad to see Marla making “something” with another man due to her financial problems. She also helps treat Isaac's trauma with horses.

Maddie O’Malley :

Like Isaac, their relationship is quite good as colleagues. However, Constance gets annoyed when she sees Maddie with absinthe in her hand. At the end of the main event, Constance visits Maddie's house, comforts Maddie and her baby after Charles' death.

Bernadine Rochester :

If asked who Constance's closest friend is, the answer would be Bernadine. Their meeting began with thwarting Bernadine's suicide attempt. Constance saw that Bernadine was suffering in the same way. Their lives were shattered after being left by their parents (both parents and uncle) and often being slandered, making them a public enemy of evil people. Constance was determined to protect Bernadine and help her destroy the Rochester family. In the end, Bernadine had to die by Horatio to protect her lover, Arthur. Her death made Constance depressed because she lost her only friend who accepted her as she was, unlike her friends at the orphanage. Since then, Constance started wearing a black skirt. She didn't want her grief to be visible because of her job.

Arthur Wright :

Initially, their relationship was like cats and dogs. Constance was idealistic and Chief Wright was a little bit pragmatic leader. As the case ended, their relationship improved. They learned from each other, respected each other, and were willing to work together. Sometimes Chief Wright asking to Constance about his depression due to the loss of her lover, Bernadine. They both are losing Bernadine. Their relationship as colleague continued until Chief Wright's term ended. He became a senator for the Concordia district. Seven years later, Arthur began to recover from his depression and suddenly fell in love with Constance. The tragedy makes his hobby of socializing with the upper class is getting faded away, and he start fell in love with a girl who had a working-class background. He saw Constance as a hardworking and empathetic girl. Constance's lack of confidence and trust issues made it difficult for her to approach him, but she eventually succeeded. Constance realized the depth of Arthur's love and realized that she deserved to be loved. They finally got married a year later (yes, it was forced by his parent because he’s getting older).

Viola Pemberton :

Constance was very angry to find out that Viola had betrayed them in order to be recognized as a member of the Rochester family. As an orphan, she was furious to see Viola caring more about her biological father who had raped her mother more than her stepfather who loved her heartfeltly. In the end, she had to make peace for the sake of professionalism in their work. Over time, their relationship improved.

Justin Lawson :

Initially, their relationship was good. Justin admired Constance for her bravery in criticizing Chief Wright's pragmatic attitude. Justin and Constance were both idealistic and justice-oriented. However, in the end, Constance was horrified to see Justin Lawson's ambition, his hypocrisy, and she starts to hate him.

Marla de Paradis :

They are quite close. Constance was amazed by Marla's caring spirit in adopting some kids. After the main events of the game, they made donations to several orphanages.

Fun facts :

The story of Constance has a connection with Cinderella. She was given an expensive Cinderella storybook by her father and it created a connection with Cinderella. After becoming an orphan, Constance was placed in an orphanage, which is equated with Cinderella's stepfamily as her new family after her father death. Constance was treated poorly by almost everyone in the orphanage, just like Cinderella was mistreated by her stepmother and stepsisters. Then Constance fought back against Josephine, symbolizing Cinderella's courage to attend the party clearly disliked by her stepfamily. When Constance was at the height of despair and finally tried to commit suicide, her attempt was successfully stopped by Aunt Schulz, symbolized by the fairy godmother that saved Cinderella from her despair. Aunt Schulz helped her find connections to achieve her dream of becoming a police officer, like the fairy godmother who created the glass slipper that created connections and privileges to achieve Cinderella's dream of a better life.

She always wears gloves to recovered the scars from whip she got when she was in the orphanage.

She fights using street-fight. Apart from Josephine, she also fought with Fiona Flanangan which caused serious injuries to both of them

Although she was raised in a Catholic orphanage, she is Protestant but she is not so religious. She witnessed puritans ravaging her orphanage and was repeatedly beaten by the Catholic nuns in the orphanage. She's not anti-religion, just not very religious.

She loves cooking

She always advising Evie to organize her files. She little bit doesn't like some messy

Usually girls in orphanages are taught household skills. Constance had this ability so she was assigned to go undercover as a maid at Rochester Castle.

Her hobby is reading novels. When she feels sad or uncomfortable, she starts reading novels. This hobby developed when she was little. Her father gave her a Cinderella book at Christmas. She also likes reading some non-fiction books and has shown an interest in the world of criminology since college. She has published several books based on her experiences as a detective.

Constance once cried when arresting a man from the working class. His daughter ran to him and cried over her father's arrest. Remember of her father, Constance ran out of the crowd and cried in the back. She was reprimanded by Isaac because she had to act professionally as a law enforcement officer.

She’s good in financial management. As people from the working class, she manages finances to survive and achieve her dreams.

Rather than jewelry, she would rather buy a beautiful gown

She dislikes socializing with the upper class because she knows she will definitely be looked down upon by them due to her working-class background.

Even so, Constance really likes dancing, especially with her lover (ex-)Chief Wright. She felt like a princess overnight and felt the romantic love she never felt before. Of course she learned to dance before.

She speaks a little Irish Gaelic and makes Maddie jealous sometimes. She got it when she was in an orphanage where there were lots of Irish children. She also grumbles in Irish Gaelic after arguing with Chief Wright *yes I change it. Being fluent in Irish Gaelic from the orphanage is not makes sense I think*

After the game event, Constance enrolled at Concordia University in the Criminology department with a scholarship from Lady Highmore for her services in saving Concordia. Several years after her graduation, she pursued further studies to obtain a master's and doctoral degree, eventually becoming a professor in the Criminology department at Concordia University.

Her undergraduate thesis focused on the Rochester scandals. The thesis received a high grade.

After becoming chief of the Flying Squad, in 1929 she decided to leave the police and focused to be a professor at Concordia University.

She died in 1962 at the age of 92.

Trivia :

I was inspired by Judy Hopps (Zootopia), Johan Seong (Lookism), and ofc Cinderella.

I am also inspired by one of my family members. They often tell stories of their childhood suffering as an orphan, experiencing loneliness and discrimination. It truly inspires me, both for myself and for shaping the character of Constance.

I was also influenced by K-drama The Glory, The Mask Girl and K-Movie The Handmaiden lol *I’m so obsessed with them*

In the development, she got many changes. Initially, Constance was a cheerful and enthusiastic girl. As time went on, without realizing it, I made Constance into a Byronic character.

Where did the name Constance come from? Yeah actually this is a bit ridiculous. I am obsessed with a German Journalist, Constantin Schreiber and usually when I like someone, I also like their name. And… I got the Constance name. Moreover, the Constance name is suits with her nature, steadfast and constant.

[chelleinyy]

For the OC ask, for Sebastian:

🎯🥊❤️✂️🍀🙌🍎🧠

Sorry that's so much --i love your OCs!!

SEBASTIANNN LETS GOOO

🎯 - If Vivian is good at writing and speaking her thoughts, then it can be said that Sebastian is great when it comes to analysis and comprehension. Takes everything into account, no matter what the situation may be. This makes him a good listener, and what makes him a rational person.

🥊 - He likes playing his guitar. Its his stress reliever, and even better if Vivian accompanies him by singing the song he's playing. Its their love language hhhh

Sebastian cannot tame his hair. No matter what he does, it stays messy, unkempt. He breaks several combs whenever he tries to fix his hair before going to city hall. This leads to frustration, and in the end, he leaves it as it is.

♥️ - Playing the guitar with his mother when he was young. He was the one to sing along as she played, and eventually, she teaches him how to play.

Another one was when him and Vivian finally left Concordia, to puruse careers abroad together, having helped one another with their studies despite being from different universities.

✂️ - Being interrogated during Capitol Peak along with some other clerks. During that time, he was given the oppurtunity to become a clerk alongside others, including Florence Samuels.

But when she murdered Judge Takakura, he was hauled in for questioning, and for what seemed like a long time, was interrogated if he was aware of Florence's plans.

Whatever was happening in the regime was enough to ensure any Concordian to stay in their lane as much as possible.

But what Sebastian saw and heard at the courthouse and city hall as a court clerk terrified him, and he was well aware of what might happen if he failed to act as the regime intended for everyone to be.

🍀 - After rewatching the cases of Ivory Hill way too much, my mind consisted of IH brainrot. I kept thinking about the dynamic that Lawson and Archie had, and I thought what if I contrasted that.

Mayor Castletown is likely to have an assistant, so I expanded more on Sebastian, who was a character from one of my fics. Since I wanted him to contrast Archie, which includes appearance, I gave him messy hair since Archie had clean curls.

🙌 - Sebastian has an older brother!

🍎 - Sadly, Sebastian's father died when he was young, so he and his brother were left in the care of their mother. They were close to her growing up, and she raised them well. She's actually the reason why Sebastian knows how to play the guitar.

🧠 - What I like most about him is how he expanded from a mere side character to a now fleshed out OC, who I came to love

My intention for him was to be an OC that appears in Ivory Hill, being the most rational out of everyone he works with. I also like his possible dynamic with Archie, since it's funny to think about

[lucero-is-here]

NOW I KNOW I HAVE RICHARD HEADCANONS TO POST- BUT PLEASE LET ME-

(The work below was written by me, do not steal anything I have written or you will be dealt with)

TW: Blood, death

You step into the morgue…Paying the coroner of the Concordian Flying Squad a visit…The room is cold and the air is stale…The scent of iron lingered in the air, the scent only getting stronger the further you stepped into the room…your eyes couldn’t help but rest on the small trails of blood splatter on the floor…and in the far end of the room, you see a tall, slender man, raising a scalpel in the air before he brought it down onto what you believed was a dead body.

You felt your stomach churn as you heard the slight sounds of the sharp blade slicing through skin…How a drop of blood immediately found it’s way onto the floor…You hasten your footsteps, the tension killing you! Your ears ringing, your heart pounding so hard against your chest you swore you heard a crack from your ribs! You clenched your eyes tight, as you slowly open them to lay eyes on the coroner…His blood stained coat reaching the back of his knees… his navy greyish blhe slacks and dark brown boots…his disheveled brown hair…More blood splattered onto the floor…and you could see the body of a man laying straight on the metal table…But no that can’t be!

You haven’t had any murders to solve lately- but most importantly…You never sent Richard any bodies!

Who? Who was this man Richard was dissecting open on his operating table? Where did he get this man?

You shakily approach Richard, your shoes clacking against the wooden floors of the morgue, until he turned around. He had blood splatter all on his blue shirt…The red carnation pinned to his right shined brightly. His hand grasped a scalpel tightly. While a bloodied scalpel was grasped tightly in his hands. He gave you an unsettling grin…as he motioned you to take a look at the body.

Every part of you said no…But your legs moved towards the operating table as Richard moved aside to give you space to stand. You tried to shut your eyes…But grim curiosity got the better of you, as your eyes remained wide open. You looked down onto the body…A rather young looking man laid lifeless on the metal table. His chest had been sliced open for autopsy…as a beautiful dark blue jacket with suns, moons, stars clouds on it covered his arms and shoulders…Underneath you could see a black turtleneck…jeans with suns, moons and stars on them..the man’s skin was pale and cold…He had fluffy white hair which gently hugged his pale cheeks…Long white eyelashes…

You were feeling awfully sorry, as you stares at the man, reaching your hand out to touch him…When all of a sudden his eyes shot open, revealing a set of eyes…Changing from a rich dark brown to a starry dark blue…His lips curved into a smile as he got up and stares at you, giving you a small smile. Richard gave an applause.

“Hello~! Did we scare you?”

The man asked excitedly, his eyes sparkling with excitement as he stared at you. Richard was applauding, bursting into hearty laughter.

You found yourself standing there, after being completely fooled by the two men.

(The young man who you probably thought was dead is my OC/self-insert who goes by several names. For now though…Refer to both me and this OC as Lucero or Ronnie)

[bojangos]

... Bee headcanons :) ?

is it headcanons if he's my own character LMAO (for those of you who aren't aware, Bee is a sort of OC for The Righteous, acting as Jaster's armorer and family! drew him here.... sweet ba'buir...)

I will give you a few non-spoilery tidbits nonetheless:

I've said before he's jaster's uncle, but specifically he's jaster's mother's younger brother. he was the third of four siblings and the only manda-touched of the bunch

he learned Ryl when one of his first apprentices was a twi'lek originally from ryloth.

However. he. doesn't speak Basic LMAO. In Fact, he doesn't technically speak standard mando'a - only Concordian and Ryl, but standard mando'a and concordian are mutually intelligible so it doesn't really cause issues.

infamous even among other armorers for being extremely perceptive, occasionally giving unnervingly accurate prophecies, a Font of sage wisdom, and because a solid quarter of armorers well known in mando space apprenticed under him at Some point. mf had his first student when he himself was like twenty

he is somewhat of a singer, as is demanded by a Keeper of Tradition like an armorer is, and he sounds like Einar Selvik, specifically in Lyfjaberg (complete with Huge Drum).

i love my sweet baba and I hope everyone else loves him when they get to meet him!!

[hjaltemod]

ah....i also wanna add my type0 ocs....

[bl00dblight]

DID I COOK?? Meet Chargrin, an ex-Wattanist with quite the criminal history. No matter how threatening they may sound, they're actually quite a pushover—especially now that they have no access to Connectar.

My ask box is always open for questions about them! :]

[ujalayi]

Messy sketch of my Command-ocs…OC-ommandos? … My Foxtrots!!! Mostly trying to work out designs for comic ideas - gotta let these guys exist instead of just live in my brain 🤨 Briin looks grumpy here but he’s just introverted and camera shy ;v;

More info about them if you are interested!!

- Pak (Pahk)

space duolinguo streak maniac. Battle strategy and tactical specialty. Has been running an advice blog on the holonet under an assumed name where he answers people’s relationship questions and gives his opinion on tough romantic situations, despite never having been in a relationship himself. When questioned about this, his response is usually something along the lines of “Coaches don’t play.”

- Briin (Brr-in)

name is derived from the word Owl in Concordian Mando’a (Briinaar)- as in: “BRIIN. QUIT STARIN’ AT ME WITH THOSE BIG OL’ EYES.” Sharpshooter + long-range combat specialty. Loooud heavy metal/outer-rim punk music fan, much to the dismay of his bunk mates. Nocturnal. Habitually guilty of playing Runescape on his datapad during mission sitrep.

- Cass (Kass)

Politico of the bunch. Close-range combat specialty. Clones’ rights activist. Almost always reading the Coruscanti political register, the political holoforums, or listening to some bizarre/niche political podcast between missions. Can be found: on his soapbox.

[ace-dindjarin]

the best i can do is regret | ch 2: cin vhetin (fresh start, lit. white field)

Fandom: Star Wars: The Bad Batch

Relationships: Hunter & Omega, Crosshair & Female OC, The Bad Batch, minor Hunter/Male OC

Summary: Where Omega wasn’t Hunter’s first daughter. He thinks he made the right choice with her; but he's not so sure about Omega.

Notes: This is the chapter that’s been fighting me. Hopefully it’s readable. CW: descriptions of blood, kinda gory descriptions about body parts, genocide, mentioned insomnia, and minor character death. And Hunter has a breakdown. 

Something is wrong.

It’s not the planet, although Concord Dawn is definitively the strangest planet Crosshair’s been on—and the Bad Batch have been to Wild Space. Glass that shouldn’t be there crunches beneath his boots as he pushes forward, rifle ready to fire. In the atmosphere, a behemoth rock wall looms, formed by one end of the asteroid-blasted hole in the planet. It casts a permanent shadow over the region, and still there’s light blinding Crosshair’s sensitive eyes from the war-blasted glass reflecting a distant fire. A planet of hypocrisies, things that shouldn’t be.

And yet, it’s not what’s wrong.

“Up ahead,” he calls. Squinting past the agonizing brightness, he points his rifle in the general direction of the fire and searches for the source. He hears the tinkling of the glass distantly behind him as the rest of the squadron rush to meet him. When he tilts the scope towards the brightest area, white assaults over his eyes, sending a burning current through the veins of his eyeballs.

“Osik.” Crosshair drops his rifle, trying to blink away the flash. There’s still a bright blue blob obscuring his vision. “Hunter, you up for this?”

“Why wouldn’t I be,” he snaps, and pushes Crosshair out of the way.

Hunter’s the one that’s wrong. Ever since they received the Concordian distress call on the Marauder, the sarge’s gotten snappier—to the point that Tech grumbled under his breath that he was worse than Crosshair. It wasn’t just his attitude; he was wrong down to the way he stood. Crosshair saw it all: his slumped shoulders, hands hanging aimlessly by his side, and a permanent crease between his eyebrows.

Most worryingly, he’d skipped one of his sleep cycles. Crosshair’s the oldest; he’s been with his squad throughout their entire lives. He saw how their “desirable” mutations took a toll on his squadmates—Wrecker’s ribs had to be rebuilt with durasteel fibres because they couldn’t support his mass, Tech came out of the tube with a faulty lung that had to be replaced, and Crosshair himself still used an inhaler. Hunter’s curse was insomnia, caused from nights interrupted by the sounds and sensations of everything, everywhere. Crosshair used to accompany him to the Kaminoan’s therapy wing once a week and he still reminds him to take his medication every day.

A relapse, however small, is very bad. But Hunter leaves the cockpit every time Crosshair brings it up.

All he can do is keep an eye on Hunter. Hunter falls to his knees, picking up shards of glass and letting them fall against the ground. Crosshair sticks close to Hunter as he follows the trail, his eyes still bleary from the blinding light. Tech follows, nervously gripping his datapad. He’s been quiet since Hunter decided on becoming Crosshair 2.0. He’d normally be talking their ears off about the properties of the glass. Instead, he’s flitting wide eyes from Hunter to the fire and back. Wrecker gently bumps his vambrace against Crosshair’s pauldron—his way of asking if Crosshair’s alright. He nods, warmed by Wrecker’s constant nature. At least Wrecker is his brash, kind self, no matter what.

When they’re a couple paces from the source, blaster fire shatters the glass before their feet. Wrecker throws the lot of them behind a jetty of rock, and Tech starts laying out some cover fire. Crosshair blinks out the last of the bleariness and raises his rifle to the source of the blaster bolts. Beskar flashing against light, red jai’galaar on black paint.

“Mandos,” he calls back. “Death Watch.”

Hunter swears. “Cross, Wrecker, you two handle them. Tech, you’re with me.”

Tech looks very much like he’d rather die by the hands of a Viszla. Crosshair decides to give him a break.

“Tech’s better with Mandos.” It’s true—Tech once engineered an altered deactivator that somehow targets beskar. “I’ll go in with you.”

Hunter stares at Crosshair. His eyes are cold behind the dark visor.

Crosshair sighs. He doesn’t want to fight right now.

For once, Hunter’s on the same page. “Fine. Stick close.”

Crosshair obeys, slinking away from the rock jetty with the sergeant as Wrecker distracts the Mandalorians. Once Crosshair checks that the skies are clear of further Death Watch, he turns his gaze to the source of the fire.

It’s a village. Ornate, dirt-baked houses burn in shambles. There isn’t a wall without a hole through it. The acrid scent of blaster fire fills the air, enough for Crosshair to want to reach for his inhaler. Fresh red fruits lay scattered across the road, bruised from the harsh treatment. Bodies, strewn across the village, lay limp, covered in ash. Some have died next to more, smaller bodies, and others grip blasters in their cold, swollen grips. Every one of the corpses have eye coverings, whether it be a colourful silk fabric or a sturdy metal band.

Crosshair’s only met one other Miraluka. A Mandalorian Protector who’d rescued the Batch from a Separatist planet when they’d crashed their old transport—the one with Senator Amidala painted on the nose. He remembers his long white hair, blinding grin, and the blue fabric tied over his eyes. He’d gotten along with Hunter; the Mando had made the stoic sergeant laugh as they worked on ship repairs. Crosshair imagines it would be nice if someone made him laugh.

Oh.

Crosshair lays a hand on Hunter’s pauldron. Even through the thick duraplast, he can feel Hunter shaking. “Where is he?”

Hunter lets out a trembling exhale. “I don’t know,” he whispers.

They perform a routine inspection, searching from left to right, then back to left. Hunter’s holding his blaster like a lifeline. Crosshair tries his best to ignore the itch in his throat from all the smoke he’s inhaling. He wonders what the Miraluka remnants had done to earn a wipeout by Death Watch, then decides he’s better off not knowing.

“Crosshair.” The distortion of the comms highlight the tremble in Hunter’s voice. Crosshair turns to see Hunter standing in front of the ruins of a small hut. The building’s so thrashed by ammunition, it’s barely recognizable as one anymore. Death Watch clearly had a vendetta against the resident.

Crosshair surveys the hut from corner to corner. It’s difficult to find anything, since everything’s covered by a thick layer of ash. All that said, there’s no silhouette of a body, nor charred beskar.

But Hunter doesn’t move. “Can—can you hear it?”

Crosshair tightens his grip on his rifle. If Hunter hears something, it means they’re in trouble.

For a long minute, all Crosshair hears is the distant crackling of fire and wind whistling against glass. Then, Hunter makes a hurt noise. “Fuck, Cross, it’s—it’s a karking baby.”

Alarm flashes through Crosshair’s body. “Where? Here?”

Hunter doesn’t respond, but the way he falls to his knees and starts brushing off the ash on the floor is telling enough. Crosshair picks up a synthfiber broom that miraculously survived the firefight to help Hunter’s crusade. At first, it’s futile, just glass and threads of a carpet long gone. As Crosshair gets to the corner of the hut, he sees a tiny crack in the flooring—far too even to be a fault in the ground. He follows that line, sweeping out a rectangular panel.

“Here?” he asks Hunter. The sergeant places his hand on the panel, taking off his helmet to get a more direct feedback.

Hunter’s eyes fly open. “Yes—fuck, we gotta open this.” Pulling out his knife, he works on prying open the panel. Crosshair runs his fingers across the rim of the panel, searching for a grip, a handle, or—

A button. The panel springs up upon pressing it, not jumping fully out of the way but lifting enough for them to get a grip. Crosshair can hear the wailing now, faint under the thick glass but still ear-piercing. They work together to get the panel lifted, a slow process of one-two-three-pull interrupted by the gradually loud screams of the infant underneath. Crosshair wants to clap his hands over his ears. He imagines it will be worse for the sergeant.

With a final heave, they pull the panel up from its slot. They set it down to the side and hurry back to the pit they uncovered. Crosshair hopes Hunter will be ready for what he sees.

The Mandalorian lies at the bottom. White hair stained copper, head slumped over to the floor, helmet scattered to side. For a moment, Crosshair thinks he’s dead—then he sees the minute shifting of his shoulders, indicating breath.

Crosshair looks up to Hunter: eyes shaking, abnormal breath speed. So Crosshair does what he’s done for his brothers ever since they were children—he grips the sergeant’s arm tight and presses their foreheads together. “He’s alive, okay? He’s breathing.”

“He—the baby—” Throat constricting, legs twitching—

Crosshair tightens his grip, fingers certainly digging a bruise into Hunter’s arm now. Out of his own fear upon seeing his sergeant so unravelled, or for Hunter’s sake, he’s not sure. “Hunter. Help me pull him out of there.”

Hunter’s eyes flicker for a moment more. Then, his eyes harden. “Okay.”

They debate a bit on how to get down, ultimately deciding that the foundation can handle two grown men hanging off a grappling hook without shattering. Hunter lands at the bottom clumsily (legs toppling under him, hand shooting out to stabilize himself, eyes widening in panic) and scrambles his way to the Protector’s side. By the time Crosshair’s hit the ground, Hunter’s got the Miraluka’s head resting on his lap.

The Miraluka lifts his face. His eye covering is long gone, exposing the eerily empty heat pits that sit in place of his eyes. He draws a shuddering gasp.

“Shh, don’t push yourself,” Hunter whispers, carding his hand through the blood-caked hair. His eyes are glassy at the corners.

“Hunter,” the Mando breathes, Core accent highlighted in the rasp of his breath. He coughs, splattering blood on Hunter’s chestplate. “Ni…enteyo ven jorhaa’ir…”

I must speak with you. Crosshair drops to his knees, placing a hand on Hunter’s shivering back. He’s tempted to reach out and comfort the Miraluka as well, but he feels like he’ll burst their moment if he interferes.

“You can tell me when we get you out of here,” Hunter says, and it sounds like law out of his mouth. He looks at Crosshair, and it’s years of working together that lets Crosshair know what he wants. He reaches for the Miraluka, wrapping his arm around the Mandalorian’s torso. Hunter supports the Protector’s other side.

“No, no, nayc—” The Miraluka tries to struggle against their grip, but he’s so weak Crosshair can barely feel his squirming. He’s covered in wounds; Crosshair counts at least three capital injuries along what he can see of his torso. “Hunter, gedet’ye, ni kar’tayl—”

The sunlight decides to enter the pit then, shining a light onto the stained dirt under the Mandalorian’s body. Where a child wails.

Crosshair’s seen a lot of babies, but it’s the first he’s seen one that doesn’t share his face. He’s entranced by them—by the way the child’s nose sits wide on their chubby face, by the way white, fuzzy hair sticks haphazardly out from their round head, by the way the silk eye covering sits against soft skin.

For a moment, everything fades in the face of this child. Crosshair feels a smile tugging at the corner of his lips—almost.

Then he notices the way the child’s cheeks round, their familiar brown skin, their pouty lips. Crosshair’s seen the same in thousands, millions of babies. It’s…impossible. Clones are sterile. The Kaminoans never documented fertility as one of Clone Force 99’s mutations.

But when Crosshair turns to look at Hunter, his face is turgid with the same fear blinding Crosshair—the fire, once again.

The Miraluka suddenly groans, slipping out of Hunter and Crosshair’s grip and tumbling to the floor. Before Crosshair can reach for him again, the Mandalorian curls into himself, gasping and coughing. All the grace, ease, confidence of the man who saved their lives long ago is gone. The Protector’s arm stutters as he reaches for the sergeant.

Hunter takes it, clasps it with both hands. Presses a kiss against the bruised knuckles. “Onnik…”

“Ni kar’tayl, Hunter,” the Mandalorian says, so hoarse Crosshair can barely hear him, “gar kaysh buir.”

Buir. Crosshair feels dizzy.

Hunter shakes his head. Eyes wide. Hammering pulse. “I can’t—”

“Hunter.” All of a sudden, the power is back in the Mandalorian’s voice. “Swear it.”

This is crazy. Hunter is in no position to do what the Protector demands.Crosshair looks to Hunter. He looks as lost as Crosshair feels.

And yet, he says the words. “Haat, Ijaa, Haa’it.”

The Miraluka’s grip relaxes. A smile spreads across his face. “Vor entye, cyare.”

Crosshair sits back on his legs, tips his head to the sky and rubs his hands over his face. His heart’s hammering in his throat. He replays the words that have been spoken in front of him.

I know you as this child’s father.

I swear it, on truth, honour, and vision.

Thank you, beloved.

Fuck, he’s so dizzy he can barely think. He pushes through, though, despite the way his head throbs and his eyes burn, because he hates the haze, how the reflected glass blurs the truth.

He focuses on Clone Force 99, forces himself to breathe. Would they be on the run, from the Republic that was their home since their birth? Would it be worth it, however blindingly bright the small chubby-cheeked baby was?

Somehow, despite everything, Crosshair hopes it will.

[merigreenleaf]

Hey there! 19 for your secondaries.

Thanks for the asks! I’m still kinda on hiatus, but I need the distraction, so I’m catching up with some of these asks from last week. I love that you asked about the secondaries! :D

19.) What is your favorite fact about your OC?-Sapphire: ack, so many things are spoilers about her! I think I’ll go with how her hair is naturally blue. Weird natural hair colors isn’t a common thing for Concordians anymore (although hair dye is), but she’s been around for quite some time. ;)

-Feren: He puts weights into his shoes because Artisan shoes are lightweight slipper type things and he misses being able to stomp around and be dramatic, like he used to do with the boots he wore when he was Adair’s sentinel-intended.

-Camille: I think @ageekyreader came up with the fact that even though she pretends that she doesn’t like the comforts of Concordia, under her heavy, bulky, uncomfortable clothing, she wears underthings made from nice, expensive fabrics lol.

-Ametrine: I LOVE that he fights tradition in order to be granted a triad link with Gilly and Chell. Traditionally a romantic relationship is required, but he’s aro/ace so he has to prove that he cares about them just as much as he would if it was romantic.

-Piquant: Speaking of links, Piquant gets one of the very first ones, back before tradition called for only triads. The link originally existed to protect those with magic from imps and who better to protect an arcane artist (Daegal) from imps than an imp?

[tanadidreamer]

Not really an OC, but your version of Tarre Vizsla for A, F, and P

Eh, that can count ;)

A: 

1. Tarre  has always had an unusual interest and talent at mechanics and engeering, which leads to the unique design of both lightsaber and some of his other kit. Tarre’s always had a natural talent for sneaking around as well, which is something he’s been doing since he was a young child.  He’s always been very sympathetic towards his surroundings, to the extent that he could sense the reactions of the victims during the Battles of Cathar, Malachor V and Serroco.

2. Mandalorian battle rings, and lightsaber spars for the most part. Tarre has often assisted his Master in planning out battles  or teach soldiers Mandalorian tactics. He’s also taken part in the Mandalorian War, assisting his clan in locating Mandalore’s mask and the First Jedi Purge. 

3. Fluency in other languages aside from Concordian and Mando’a, mastering lightsaber combat and his Force abilities. As well as keeping his temper under control and meditation, he was especially bad at these two when Revan took him under his wing.

4. Tarre is terrible with telekinses, he can barely lift a rock. As well as actually dealing with people. Like Canderous Ordo, he is a very blunt guy which tends to lead to a lot of trouble. He also developed some of Revan’s traits when it comes to following orders and curiosity.

5. As a result of having a natural talent with Force empathy, he’s always been excellent at reading people. It’s difficult for most people to hide something from or lie to him. Even if he tends to be obvilious sometimes.

F:

1. Either spending time with younglings or finding a way to tease his fellow warriors and Jedi. If he’s actually in the mood, he is very creative with pranking people. He also tend to read frequently.

2. Something wild and likely troublesome. 

3. It’s either Revan, or, surprisingly, Ferroh. 

4. It honestly depends on the situation and who set the rules.

5. Very often, he hates staying in one place for two long.

P:

1. Probably his compassionate attitude.

2. Defiantly his impulsivness, he tends to act before he thinks 95%, even as a Jedi Master.

3. Those that have given him a chance hae learned to love his more jovial attitude towards life

4. Due to his heritage, there are many who actually despise his more mititarian and impulsive nature.

5. Tarre learned to eventually accept himself, even if he had spent a while hating his impulsive nature. Tarre isn’t very fond of anybody who’s too narrow-minded or those with double natures, mostly because of what he’s dealt with. He’s still always going to resent Revan and Malak for the men they became.

[type-0-mitsu]

Muse information

A boy who bets his life and goes through the spiral in order save the person he has fallen with.

Icon Artist: Roux/Rugichi

Final Fantasy Type-0 Oc Canon cycle: Regular Type-0 Mitsu.

-a ninth class but was moved to first class bc of his tendencies and a troublemaker -works under the commandant and basically any one in the consortium of eight. -an immigrant from milites -a brother of the concordian l'cie. -lowkey deja vu boi -has been in every cycle and only had one job in every spiral -trying to save the dead man, kurasame bc he gets attached to him on the very first cycle. -bets his life just to save kurasame and make him happy. -limited time and ends up dead.

Reaper of the Icy blade Cycle - Mitsu;

-Remembers the other cycles. His goal is to save Miwa and Kurasame in this one because he thought Kurasame would be happy with her.  -Kurasame and Kazusa’s friend before Emina came. -Casting a powerful heal spell decrease and deteriorates him so he always had an elixir and Phoenix Down for himself. -An All-rounder support even though his body is frail. -A class-0 cadet. He wields an ice blade and fire blade in both hands. Extra but his known LB/signiture move is Glacial Pyre, he freezes using the ice and cut them with the fire blade. -He likes Miwa, platonically. -If he did come in time, just before Miwa healed Kurasame, he would heal them but eventually dies after. His phantoma depletes. -If he doesn’t came on time, he would stay with Kurasame until the very end and still would feel guilty for Miwa. -He’s not recorded as a champion but his good since all he does is follow Kurasame to the point where he earned a title: “Mitsu, the lost puppy”

Type-0 Mitsu but as a class 0 cadet:

-The meaning of his name, Mitsu (みつ) means three. -Grows up with class-0 and posed as a big brother to them, he’s 18 so eldest too (?) -Class-0’s with Kurasame human child’s sized rag dolls as his weapon. It’s imbued with phantoma and an 11 years’s worth of hair from brushing the class-0’s hair. -he makes doll charms for class-0 as stat accessory and makes Arecia and Tonberry charm that had auto-shell, curada and auto-protect. -Sees the Class-0’s cadets as family. -Takes care of them -Ironically calls Arecia, “Mother” -He’s gonna die with the cadets. -He’ll take responsibility and punishment for them. By any means necessary. -He is close with Nine the most but he sees them equally. -Calls Ace “Chocoboy” -He braids Cinque’s hair. -He’ll listen to Trey and say ‘good shit, Im in’ enthusiastically. -Listens to Deuce’s flute when she plays it. -Drags Nine to the library and ties him to study. -Tries to 1-on-1 with Eight but fails because he’s not a physical person. -Helps Jack cleans his katana for no good reason. -Clay thrower for King and Cater -Helps Sice with her hair out of habit. -Studying with Queen and Seven. -Deja vu but ignores it. -Kurasame doll was his first made doll and he hadn’t even know the man.