#pravin winscliff II

[monocytogenes]

WIP wednesday

Tagged by @theluckywizard!

Looks like I haven't done one of these in ages--I've been writing a decidedly ambitious fic featuring Pravin (my agent) and Theron, which I've been describing as "two spies from different factions go up against space!Spectre and have interpersonal conflict because one thinks he's in a Bond film and the other thinks he's in a Bourne film and neither is 100% right." I more or less had an idea earlier this year to take some of the plot beats from SoR but make it a continuation of the Star Cabal narrative, and man, has it turned into a thing.

Here's a snippet of these idiots stumbling into each other's respective ops on Manaan, with some Theron snark that keeps making me laugh.

“You can come out; I know you’re there,” Theron said, looking straight at his hiding spot. Pravin stiffened. Forcing a breath, he slunk out from behind the fountain, tamping his surprise into annoyance. “What are you doing here?” “What are you doing here?” he retorted. “Cipher.” In a flash, Pravin was bare centimeters from him, fingers grasping the vibroknife beneath his own jacket; Theron moved just as quickly, catching his forearm and pressing a palm against his shoulder. They locked eyes, glowering at each other, until Pravin retreated a step, wrenching his arm free. “I knew you were SIS,” he spat. “Theron Shan.” “Yeah, no shit, Remar. Or whatever you’re calling yourself.” Theron slid a thumb into his pocket, resting his weight on one foot. “What’s your plan here? Bumping off another civilian?” “I ought to shove you over that railing.” “Yeah, nobody’s going to notice that.” “Fuck you.” Pravin closed the distance between them again, inclining his head slightly to stare him down. “Why were you in that office?”

[monocytogenes]

Isra is an Arabic name the internet tells me means 'nocturnal journey'/'traveling at night', which I picked because, you know, Sith lord. I constructed her birth surname, Taluwe, out of some African name phonemes to suggest something distinctly foreign in a setting that's effectively British (which factors into her particular attachment to it as an alien who's faced oppression); the surname of her adoptive parents, Hyrak, came out of me looking into sounds present in the sith language, since, well, that's what species they are.

Pravin means 'skilled' or 'talented' because the guy's a professional spy, lol. I'll note that for the swtor version of the character I pronounce it "pray-vihn', because they're space!Brits. His surname Winscliff was created out of Englishy phonemes via me perusing census data. And because I needed it to be pretentious--his family's Imperial new money--he's technically Pravin Winscliff II, named after an uncle. (Which ended up being a really interesting characterization point, honestly--him growing up in enough privilege to have benefited from the Imperial system, for Intelligence to trust in his loyalty, but also being kind of an extraneous son who "didn't even get a name of [his] own", as he puts it in my fic.)

I would've probably picked something else as Pravin's forename in DA had he not started out as a casual AU attempt that spiraled rapidly out of control (lol), but I pronounce it there as 'prah-veen' there to align it a little better with the languages the characters are speaking (it's technically Pravín, I think, given similar constructions I've seen in Spanish.) His other name components I just picked up by looking through Latino names; fwiw, his middle name (Atreo) means "fearless." What is more interesting is his stage name--the surname, Frye, was yoinked from the Intelligence operating name I'd given him (itself just "standard English last name"), and I felt it worked well as something he'd deliberately select for himself whilst cutting himself loose from his old life to pursue his dream of acting because it means "free" (I have some back-logic that he picked it in part to honor his time in Ferelden too.) For the forename, I wanted something alliterative, and settled on Fidencio on account of its Spanishness and various meanings--I've seen "confidence" and "daring", "trustworthy and faithful"--various brave and positive connotations that I think he'd want associated with him in the public sphere.

why'd you choose your oc's name?

[theluckywizard]

SWTOR Imperial Agent: Pravin Winscliff II

Painted @monocytogenes's boy Pravin! Honestly painting a shirt and chest hair worthy of him was one of my favorite parts! Is he scowling in annoyance at Theron? Possibly.

[monocytogenes]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged by @theluckywizard!

A bit of angst from the Pravin and Theron fic, featuring the main ship (though believe me, there'll be a little something-something between Pravin and Theron too)--Pravin, in the midst of stim withdrawal and actively avoiding discussing his insecurities with Shara, dreams about a time when he physically couldn't tell her what was up. Hurt/comfort ensues.

“Did you make contact?” His tongue felt sluggish in his mouth, even as his heart hammered, nerves wound tight enough to break. “Yes. I spoke to Kothe.” “How did it go?” “As planned.” Not the words shrieking behind his eyes; not even close. “He—he—” “Cipher.” Shara’s features were all concern, her gaze that searching squint, trying to parse meaning out of his stammer. “Is something the matter?” I need help. He’s controlling my mind. I just had a seizure and puked my guts out; can’t you tell that something’s the matter— “Everything is fine,” he heard himself say; distantly, as though through water. “Collypod.” An old challenge code from when she’d been his Watcher, asking him if he were under duress. Sleen, he thought. Sleen. I am under duress. Sleen sleen SLEEN— “Rancor.” “Understood. I’d suggest you catch some rest; you seem a bit out of sorts—” He woke with a jolt. For a long moment, he laid there, heart pounding, watching neon-tinged shadows play on the ceiling. He could hear Shara’s slow breathing beside him, feel the weight of her body sagging the mattress, feel the tension of the blankets tucked about her sleeping form. Little details to ground him, bring him from the nightmare, punctuate his whispered mantras. Mind control. Castellan restraints. Ontomatophobia. Iconoclasm… His legs ached as he stood, a deep, raw pain. The world tilted; he gripped the edge of the mattress for support. Shara shifted a little. Nausea roiled in time with the throbbing of his head as he stumbled to the refresher; he sank onto the edge of the tub, squeezed his eyes shut and breathed deeply. “Iconoclasm,” he hissed on the exhale. “Iconoclasm…” The creak of footsteps made him still. “Pravin?” “Sorry.” His voice sounded hoarse and strange to his own ears; a distorted imitation. “Didn’t mean to wake you.” She padded over the rug, gingerly lowering herself beside him. “You’re alright. You’re safe.” He felt his face burn, mortified that she’d overheard his rambling. “You don’t need to—” “Yes, I do.” Firm, insistent; a hint of her old authority. Her hand went to his back, massaging taut muscles. “Sssh. You’re alright.” He relaxed by degrees into her touch, sagging against her. She pressed a soft kiss against his hair.

[monocytogenes]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged by @theluckywizard!

This is from the same WIP I referenced last time, where Pravin and Theron are working together; since this is loosely based on SoR, Theron's been disavowed by SIS and had a notice put out for his arrest. Here, Pravin realizes something's off while they're sharing intel at a diner and gets the better of an assailant.

Fun fact: I wrote this before recently reading Annihilation and was like "omg, Drew Karpyshyn and I were on the same wavelength here" so. Backstory shoutout!

“You know what that reminds me of? This story—” He passed the device to Theron, who skimmed the onscreen message. I’ll leave first. Wait, then go. Find an isolated area; I’ll have eyes on you. “Yeah, where they tried to pin it on the Exchange!” he exclaimed, pretending to scroll. “Shit, that was huge. The rumors going around—” They coordinated with ease—Pravin claimed to have an upcoming business meeting, departing in good cheer, and Theron poked idly at his datapad for a few minutes before following suit. He strolled past a windowed storefront, weaving between two twi’leks and a gran, and thought he saw a tailing figure in the reflection, a murky smear set against flickering neon. Resisting the urge to look back, he walked a few blocks, then ducked into an alley, stepping across rusted junk and an overturned trash can, making a show of fumbling in his jacket as though to place a call. A memory rose to mind: a miscommunication-induced fight with a fellow agent in a similar, stinking alley. He’d gotten distracted, bickering with Trant; hadn’t heard the agent approach. The crunch of a footstep—he spun— With a yelp, the falleen from the diner crumpled, body jerking uncontrollably. Pravin watched her convulse on the pavement for a moment, the stun pulse arcing through her limbs, then, when she’d gone still, bent and withdrew his knife, clicking it off and wiping green blood from the blade onto her leggings. Theron rushed to his side. “One of yours?” Pravin asked, as Theron took a knee. Theron scooped up a holdout blaster from where it’d tumbled from her hand and looked it over. He recognized the model—the sort of thing SIS gave to undercovers as a concealable weapon. Nodding, he gazed up at Pravin in surprise. “How’d you clock her?” “Saw her staring at you, and she was eating steak with a fork. Locals eat it with their hands.” “Damn,” he said, genuinely. “Great catch.” “It’s called ‘being observant’ and ‘using your brain’; things you ought to start doing.” Pravin reached down to rifle through her pockets, withdrawing a wallet and peering at a stack of credit chips. “Things she ought to do as well. Carrying five hundred unsecured credits is an excellent way to invite a mugging.” “Oh, look at that.” Theron snatched it from him. “My unused PTO.” “Congratulations,” Pravin deadpanned, hooking his arms beneath the woman’s shoulders. “Now, help me move her.”

[monocytogenes]

Oh man, that reply I did yesterday got the wheels turning on this one--

It's principles for Isra. Her entire identity is tied up in her role as an honorable, patriotic warrior; she has a code of ethics that she takes pains not to break. She knows what it's like to be a noncombatant in war, as well as to be discriminated against, so she tries to rescue civilians and deal patiently and compassionately with low-ranking enlisted or wet-behind-the-ears officers. When Jedi fight fair, she'll meet them in kind, and dispatch them respectfully when she brings them low. She does carry out the time-honored Sith tradition of vengeance, but generally with a bigger-picture aim beyond her personal grievances--this is a woman who did a fair amount of murdering in KOTFE beneath the justification of "these assholes are complicit in the mass killing of thousands of my countrymen" layered atop her "I'm pissed the fuck off about them stealing five years from my life." Personal grudges are one thing; it's the greater costs that give her license in her own mind to go apeshit.

Her insistence on purporting herself in a principled manner is also something of a reaction to times in her life where she didn't have that luxury. Baras had her carrying out a whole lot of dirty work that didn't sit right with her but, in the interest of earning her lordship, she assented to anyway--cutting down enslaved people, taking out agents whose only crime was becoming inconvenient loose ends. After Baras decided she herself was a loose end that had to be snipped off, she fretted over whether she could have handled much of that differently, while knowing that doing so would've been playing a very dangerous game. She's determined never to become trapped at the beck and call of such a man again.

Pravin is...interesting as far as principles go. I think he's someone who is fundamentally a good person, and when he does bad or selfish things, it's generally out of anger or fear. He can talk a good story about wanting to take out the Star Cabal for the good of the galaxy--and mean it, really--but whereas for someone like Isra that'd be the bulk of her motivation, he's much more driven by personal grievance. When I ran him through the expansions, he made far more questionable choices than Isra did (including letting the sun reactor explode and accepting Valky's power) because he was intensely aware of his position as a badass normal in a sea of Force users and didn't want to die. He had one unarguably heroic, utterly selfless moment in his class story, which was the choice to not go along with Jadus' plan at the end of Chapter 1 (with full knowledge that he might be reduced to a stain on the floor for his trouble), but given everything that transpired after that...the man's got some damage now.

All that said, the instances where his conscience pings him are really compelling, because they're usually a result of his empathy overcoming his more negative impulses. There's a moment in ATTWSG where he makes a snap decision to talk down his terrified copilot and save his life because the man's PTSD-induced overreaction mirrors his own experience. Similarly, he has an opportunity to kill an unconscious Theron in the fic I'm working on--a pragmatic choice, given that he suspects Theron's SIS and the guy's seen his face...and he can't bring himself to do it, because it reminds him of a time he offed an injured teenage kid to maintain his cover, a choice that haunted him in retrospect. The ethical boundaries are there, they just shine strongest through the lens of personal encounters with people.

So yeah, I do think he's more loyal to people on the whole. It's that person-to-person stuff that affects him, and he certainly has folks in his life that he'd do damn near anything for, like his bestie Vector and Shara, the woman he's in love with. It's not that he doesn't care about doing right by a greater code or the greater galaxy, it's more that he thinks his heroism is well behind him, leaving a whole lot of poorly processed trauma and the precious comforts that come through interpersonal connection.

(He thinks it's behind him, but I reckon he's wrong.)

Is your OC more loyal to people, or to principles?

[monocytogenes]

For Shara x Pravin (Cipher 9) 1. Who fell first? Who fell harder?

32 How would they describe one another.

72. If someone flirted with or showed an interest in their S/O, how would the other react?

Who fell first? Who fell harder?

I do think the physical attraction was instantaneous and mutual when they met--like you can do in canon, they literally flirted in front of their boss, haha--but that didn't translate into anything romantic for some time. Shara had, after all, read Pravin's file; she knew that seduction was a frequent tactic of his in the field, and more than that, she'd worked with agents like him before. She wasn't in the business of stroking a man's ego by being his girl of the week, and certainly not when he was one of her assigned charges--that was a whole mess of objectification and hurt feelings that she'd rather not deal with.

Pravin, meanwhile, did initially just want to sleep with her--not in a callous way, because he was intrigued by her as a person, but still in the most casual manner possible. He managed to pester her into going out with him once and nothing really came of it other than them getting to know each other a bit more. They had a physical something-something before he went to face Jadus, which was a little more emotional than he might've liked, and then--

He risked his life to save thousands of innocent people.

That was a side of Pravin Shara hadn't anticipated--a goodness that had been creeping beneath his genuine inquiries after her well-being, perhaps, but that became clear through an act of sheer, selfless bravery. She'd cared about him as one of her operatives, hoped and feared for him, but she hadn't loved him until that moment, where he finally showed how much he cared--about justice, about righteousness, about doing the best he could even when the public would never be the wiser.

She invited him over; told him he was brave and good. They slept together, and while he didn't consciously let the thought of love broach his mind, he started to fall through that encounter and the easy domesticity they shared the following morning, after he'd uncharacteristically conked out in her bed of exhaustion.

Her feelings for him were stronger and more self-aware at that stage, which made it particularly painful for her to broach the topic of fraternization and break off whatever they had when she was promoted to Keeper. He pretended he was fine with that, but honestly got more attached as she worked to move on--I do think it was the first time he'd experienced that sort of intense, vulnerable connection with someone after years of curating his love life into a series of light, superficial liaisons, and he couldn't go back from it. She ruined a perfectly decent slut, lol.

How would they describe one another?

"Very intelligent, thoughtful, professional, charming even when he's not trying to be. He has a wonderful sense of wit; dry with a bit of an edge, very clever. An excellent listener, compassionate, and deeply caring. He has strong foundational ethics despite the pain he's been through, with the sense of obligation that entails. He's also got this theatrical background, so he's into film and music and other types of art, which are so interesting for me to learn about. And he's quite handsome, besides!"

"Both smart and beautiful. She's a born-and-bred genius; an absolute whiz at maths, speaks all sorts of languages, and utterly kind and personable besides. Dark hair, light skin, lovely eyes, incredible curves. Just ridiculously attractive."

If someone flirted with or showed an interest in their S/O, how would the other react?

Shara doesn't mind if it's only flirtation, for the most part--Pravin's very conventionally attractive, after all; he gets flirted with all the time. She sets some contextual boundaries once they get together: he can reciprocate if it's work-related and he's purposefully trying to ingratiate himself with people towards an end, though she expects him to be honest with her about what happens and not let it escalate to sex (for the sake of her own health.) Other than that, a bit of playful banter is okay, but she draws the line at anything physical. She might sidle up to him and show a bit of intimacy if things start getting more lusty than she's comfortable with--touch his arm, fix his clothes, kiss his cheek to show that he's hers.

Pravin, on the other hand, is a hypocrite in this regard: he can't stand watching men flirt with Shara (women, sure, because she's straight and they're therefore not a threat, but not men.) He pretends it doesn't bother him but it does. He'll hover. He'll oh-so-charmingly interject. He'll drape an arm around her and regard the other person with a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. He has enough social acumen to generally distinguish between guys who are being friendly and those putting the moves on her, so she tends to find his behavior more cutely protective than annoying, but still tells him to back off on occasion because she can handle the situation herself, lol.

[monocytogenes]

OK for all your SWTOR blorbos! 8) How do they feel about the opposite faction?and 15) Who is/are their least favorite companion(s)?

Thaaaaank

8) How do they feel about the opposite faction?

To begin with, Isra and Pravin, as Imperial citizens, were both taught from a young age about the genocides that took place on Korriban and Ziost after the Great Hyperspace War. These events are an enormous component of Imperial national identity, and since they were framed by the Republic and understood by the Empire as an attempted eradication of both a government and a culture, the average Imperial sees conflicts with the Republic in ideological terms--"they hate who and what we are and want us dead."

Both Isra and Pravin thus understand the Great Galactic War (which, when not called "the war", I've headcanoned has such localized names as "the Patriotic War of Just Retribution") as a fundamentally righteous conflict between the two factions. Both of them also have nuanced takes on war due to the reality of it in their own lives. Isra lost her mother to the conflict and (while I play with the timeframe of the subsequent Cold War a bit) has foundational memories of witnessing the destruction in real time; she thus believes that while armed conflict can be necessary, it is still terrible to be caught in the crossfire as a civilian, something that informs her compassionate treatment of them even when they're from the Republic. Pravin had a more stable childhood as a privileged kid on Dromund Kaas, but saw enough shit as a field agent in places like Balmorra and Corellia--dealing with the workings of institutional violence more intimately than Isra tends to--to believe, much as the old Minister did, that it's a sordid enterprise best avoided, regardless of the hatred he was taught. Isra does, at least, have the comfort of Sith glory to be found in dueling worthy opponents and standing as a highly visible bulwark between her vulnerable countrymen and the enemy; for Pravin, it's dark and awful business all the way down.

Apart from her experiences of war, Isra's perspective on Republic citizens, particularly noncombatant civilians, is also informed by her understanding that the dynamics of indoctrination can work in both positive and negative ways--she is, after all, an alien in a society where so many people are raised to believe her race inferior. Ordinary people in the Republic have an obligation to unlearn their incorrect beliefs about history and society, sure, but she recognizes that's a leap for the average person, and has far more belief that their leadership--people who are educated and hold power and should know better--are deserving of harm. She reserves her greatest vitriol for the politicians and high-level military officers, on account of an odd vein of respect for the Jedi--a recognition that they're damn good at doing what she does, albeit from an opposing worldview. She doesn't find that worldview particularly threatening from an intellectual or philosophical standpoint, either; she thinks their use of the Force is inefficient, their attitude about emotions is warped and their notions of destiny are just ambition wrapped up in layers upon layers of justification (the Force serves you, Isra insists, not the other way around), but would probably be personally content to let them do their thing if they weren't calling her relationship to the Force inherently evil and wrong. Like, okay, she's seen Sith use the Force in fucked up ways that needlessly harm others and will probably burn out their own bodies well before their time, but that's the user, not the tool, you know?

Pravin has some similar views, albeit with less trust in the correctness of the Imperial perception of reality. He, for instance, definitely thinks the Sith shouldn't be running a country (whereas Isra, while recognizing the Dark Council has made some shitty decisions, still thinks people like her are particularly fit for leadership.) Neither is he terribly inclined towards Republic ideas of governance, though; he may love watching senators go at each other's throats on the Republic version of C-SPAN but his poli-sci degree from an Imperial university sure pointed out the flaws in representative democracy. Like Isra, he has far more beef with Republic higher-ups than ordinary people, and in his case, particular beef with the SIS, who he alternately views as incompetent, unprofessional morons and the worst kind of bastards--self-righteous hypocrites who talk a nice story about being more ethical than their Imperial counterparts but still do terrible things when it suits them. He also has an attachment to Imperial culture that, as much as he tried to shirk it in his time away, does hold aspects of that culture above Republic cultures--such as the Imperial focus on polite and professional behavior and the clearer demarcations between relationships in public life and those in personal life.

15) Who is/are their least favorite companion(s)?

I play a bit fast and loose re: which companions are actually in my characters' parties, so:

Isra, in my headcanon, recruits Vette, Quinn, Jaesa and Pierce. Of them, Quinn's necessarily the favorite--she does marry him, after all. She doesn't bond with him as immediately as she does Vette--whose sense of humor and ability to roll with the punches of Isra's frankly wild life quickly places her in the role of friend and confidant--but apart from being very sexually compatible with her, Quinn's the one who shares her values the most. He's a hardworking patriot with a big-picture mindset, one who believes in doing right by his country's citizens rather than abusing power for personal enrichment or respecting authority for authority's sake. (The fact that he countermanded an order to win a battle and save the lives of a bunch of troops is immensely attractive to her, as shameful as the fallout was to him.) She also has a deep admiration of his ability to navigate elite spaces and use diplomacy to achieve useful ends; it's an art she's not nearly as talented at given her middling upbringing and the racism she's faced, and she aspires to match his polite, discerning skill. Quinn's immensely professional and great at what he does, and she finds his anxiety over his work just as illogical as he finds her fears and uncertainties as she figures her shit out as an early-career Sith. It's a you need to see yourself as I see you dynamic, and it's good for both of them.

While I did have a dark side Jaesa, I see her as less rabidly evil than in canon, but even with that in mind I think she's probably the toughest for Isra to deal with. Jaesa gets her first taste of true freedom and copes with it exactly the way a sheltered kid from a strict environment would, and for Isra, who's a twentysomething herself and actively working out the kinks of her own professional identity, figuring out where to set boundaries is hard. She wants to be the Cool Mom figure who encourages Jaesa to enjoy life and be in touch with her emotions, but also recognizes that she needs discipline and direction so she doesn't self-destruct. I do think the appreciation for each other flows both ways, and in dire situations they've got each other's backs, but Jaesa does test boundaries and Isra does feel the strain of having to model good behavior for Jaesa when she isn't altogether sure of herself. (Sometimes Quinn fills the role of adult in the room, but there's a weird power dynamic since he's not Force-sensitive, and his perception of what constitutes good behavior is...stricter than Isra necessarily wants for Jaesa, haha.)

Pravin recruits Vector, Lokin and Raina and works with Kaliyo in some capacity I haven't wholly decided. Vector is 100% his ride-or-die bestie. Like, platonic life partners energy so thick that Pravin tries to make out with him at one point because he doesn't know what else to do with the feelings. Much of that arises from the fact that Vector is, despite the weirdness of being in a hivemind, both a "safe" person by virtue of being a fellow Imperial in a different civil service branch with full knowledge of Pravin's professional status, and just straight up interested in people in a decidedly innocent way. As an intelligence agent, Pravin's generally omitting a substantial part of his life from the people he might otherwise consider friends--the people he enjoys spending time with while undercover can't know who he actually is, his old friends from school or the navy can't be made aware of his job, and his work friends, well--he can be fairly honest with them, but there's still a bit of needing to keep up appearances for the sake of his career. With Vector, he can be frank and not have to worry about blowback--Vector's enough of an outsider in the Diplomatic Service that any shit-talk about Pravin would be unlikely to take root, and he's not the kind of person liable to shit-talk to begin with. Vector ends up being Pravin's lifeline after the mind control arc, a shoulder to cry on and a voice of sanity to pull him up and out of the muck of his rage and despair, and the benefits of their relationship go the other way as well--Pravin accepts Vector's status as a Joiner to a degree that no one else really has, assists his diplomatic aspirations, nurtures his interest in culture through their travels together, and, well, gives Vector's impulse to care for others an outlet. No romance or sex, but they've got kind of a domestic thing going.

As I said, I'm not totally sure about where Kaliyo falls in my canon--I definitely can't see Pravin affording her the amount of trust the narrative gives her though they probably had absolutely insane sex--so while she'd otherwise take the "least favorite" role, I'm going to talk about Lokin instead! Whereas Vector eased his way under Pravin's defenses, Lokin kept doing well-meaning things that smacked right up against them. He's semi-retired Intelligence and thus was technically a colleague Pravin felt the need to save face around (strike 1), compulsively conceals his own feelings behind a chipper facade, unlike innocently honest Vector (strike 2), and got to inquiring after Pravin's physical and mental health at a time where Pravin very much Did Not Want to Address That (strike 3). I definitely think he wanted to position himself as something of a mentor figure for Pravin but couldn't bring himself to meet Pravin's emotional vulnerability in kind, which just made Pravin feel that much more of a mess any time Lokin expressed concern. They're still on decent terms, especially since he and Vector are friends, but Lokin definitely likes Pravin more than Pravin likes him--in a scene I recently wrote with them talking, they're both addressing each other by operating names (I've always held that "Eckard Lokin" is an alias), but he's firstnaming Pravin while Pravin's lastnaming him, lol.

[monocytogenes]

OC in three

Thanks for the tag, @theluckywizard!

Pravin Winscliff II

Pravin Talavera/Fidencio Frye

Isra Taluwe

[monocytogenes]

Here's Pravin!

Sometimes I think his face looks a bit wonky ingame, but I have Jeenu Mahadevan as a fc:

And I'd be REMISS not to include this insanely beautiful art by @theluckywizard (think he'd lose the jewelry and scruff in an office setting, but nevertheless!):

A la my reply to the original post, "he'd be trading snarky remarks with someone while gripping his caf mug with two hands and pretending he's not hopped up on stims", lol. Poor guy was Going Through It in his class story.

Any swtor peeps have an agent I can borrow? I got a bit inspired by my own post about the ImpInt breakroom where all the imperial agents go to eat their evil dry ration bars... I need people to seat in there

[monocytogenes]

△ for DA Pravin: how likely would he be to remove Thalia from the Inquisition if he had a legit chance of doing so?

For SWTOR Pravin: what would it take for him to sleep with Lana???

DA Pravin:

Lol he'd probably rate that like a 7/10. Do not perceive him.

(Setting this about where my published fics are--)

"A decade ago, I had a chance to remake my life. And while it wasn't easy, I came to understand that freedom is everything. If you tie yourself to a cause, an authority, an institution--it may give you influence in the short term, but it's a terrible bargain. Someday, they always come to collect.

Thalia thinks she has mastery of all this, but she's young and naive and...she hasn't seen what I've seen. She thinks they're all good people, but--blight it, they've let the poor girl become a legend. If I could do it without Nightingale leaving me dead on a roadside for my trouble, then I--I just don't want them make her a martyr, too."

SWTOR Pravin:

Hahaha 9/10

"Well, you have to consider the whole matter of my former colleague who I have a, uh... [vague hand motion] ...something with, and how I'm certain she'd object, and there's the fact that Beniko is Sith and could crush my throat with her mind, and--this sort of thing never ends well, really. There's copious examples. Sith are like that, they're socialized like--

--I mean, I suppose if there was something I really wanted from her, and she was open to it, I could offer the option as a bargaining tool. That's technically work. It's not like I haven't done as much on assignment before.

And she's not hard on the eyes, either. Maybe a touch charming in a bookish, managerial sort of way. It could be an interesting experience--

--what the fuck am I on about."

[monocytogenes]

Ask game! Ask game!

👩‍💻 share a snippet that you worked on for a long time or struggled with

Okay so--you know those moments when you set up a scenario and then you're midway through the scene going 'how the hell is my character going to get out of this?' Yeah.

So, one of things I do in my agent!Pravin fics is really think about what kinds of fights he could conceivably survive, and how he'd go about that. Video game mechanics being what they are, there's multiple instances ingame where he's shooting and stabbing dudes who use lightsabers, and I'm like--nah, realistically, I think he'd get cut in half in under a minute.

This brings us to a WIP where Pravin's facing down Ardun Kothe, the enemy spy who, along with his team, exploited that mind control shit Pravin had in his brain (that he was ranting about in the other WIP I shared with you.) In canon, the guy's an ex-Jedi who fights you with a lightsaber and, being a Jedi, has a whole smattering of telekinetic powers. So yeah I was like, nix the lightsaber, but then I got about to the part in this snippet where Pravin cusses him out and then I was like--okay, how the fuck is he going to escape, haha.

Picked at it for a while before I wound up literally reading about interrogation techniques and came up with this solution. Kothe's line about his actions being "unforgivable" is a reference to some actual dialogue, and I thought, ohhh. I think Pravin can lean on that to distract and rattle him.

Also, the ticking clock element here is on account of Pravin having called an airstrike on his own position in order to put a stop to Kothe's plans and hopefully murder him in the process. In canon another character does that; I was like 'nah, this seems like the kind of batshit insane thing Pravin would do himself given the mental state he's in.'

(A quick warning--Pravin uses some really explicit language below.)

As he squeezed the trigger, with preternatural precision, Kothe lifted a hand and caught the bolt, the energy fizzling out ineffectually against his palm. “Well, well,” Kothe said, with all the mild disappointment of a mechanic assessing a cracked repulsorlift engine, “This explains a few things.” Pravin backed up a step, keeping his weapon pointed, his hand trembling slightly. “So you found a way to overcome the restraints. Alright.” He gestured vaguely at Pravin’s bloodstained jacket. “Should I bother asking where Wheel and Saber are?” “I don’t think you’d like the answer.” Kothe sighed. “Seems I was right about you.” A laugh, half-hysterical, escaped Pravin’s throat; the fury rising to choke him against his better instincts. “Tell me, Ardun, does it hurt?”

“To be betrayed?” “No, bending over to suck your own cock, you sanctimonious cunt,” Pravin hissed before he could stop himself. “How clever you are, how smart! What else could have possibly come of mucking with my brain to make me your slave?” Fear tightened his throat in the wake of his outburst but, to his surprise, Kothe faltered a bit. “I know that much was unforgivable. But I couldn’t risk this op.” Rationalizing. He can fizzle a kriffing bolt with his hand and he’s rationalizing. A snippet of interrogation training swam to mind, much as it had when he’d stood on the bridge of that dreadnought and asked Jadus question after question about his plan: attack his pride. Invite him to justify his actions. Let him try to vindicate himself. “Couldn’t you?” Pravin snapped. “I ran from my country, I turned my back on everything, and what the fuck did I get? I risked my life, I brought Chance back to you when he couldn’t speak a word to me, and you lot raped me over, and over, and over. Like it was easy. Like you enjoyed it.” “I didn’t enjoy it, Legate—” “Then why did you keep doing it?!” he shouted. “Because this is bigger than you and me!” insisted Kothe. “Because I’ve watched war tear this galaxy to shreds, and I’d do anything to keep peace alive.” Pravin brought up his other hand to grip his pistol, a deliberately-clumsy gesture that allowed him a glance at his chrono. Six minutes had elapsed—that meant he had nine to book it out of the facility if he were lucky, four if he wasn’t. He hoped he’d destabilized Kothe enough. “Anything?” he sneered. “Anything.” “I see it now, why you failed as a Jedi, why they kicked you out. You sound just like a bloody Sith.” “That’s enough—” Kothe went for the gun at his belt. With his dominant hand occupied, the man wasn’t fast enough—a flick of a trigger, and a bolt connected with Kothe’s shoulder, punching a hole through flesh.

[monocytogenes]

Ammyyyyy from the SWTOR Character Ask Meme, can you tell me about Isra and Pravin's answers for the following questions: 1. What is [character]’s favourite event, & what do they like about it? 9. What do they regard as their culture, & do they distinguish between their culture and heritage? and 13. If there were a Commemorative Statue released of them, what pose would they be in?

I presume this refers to the recurring ingame events, sooo--

I played Pravin on the Bounty Contract event and man, that is his SHIT. Post class-story I imagine him getting by outside the Empire through doing a lot of private security and investigator work, and bounty hunting is really just that plus the "capturing fugitives" bit. He'd always use the drink option and bring them back in carbonite in lieu of killing them, lol.

Realistically I think he'd be wary about doing too much of that sort of work because it's super confrontational and he doesn't want to make enemies, but if the money's right...hey, some of those troublemakers must have long histories of pissing off multiple legal and illegal enterprises, right? And he likes the investigatory part. It's what he enjoyed about working for Intelligence--the relationship-building and social engineering; figuring out how to get people to disclose information or allow him entry to restricted spaces. His talent at it is kind of his superpower, and it really gives him a thrill.

Isra would be into the Rakghoul event. She's a badass sword lady patriot who sees her role as that of a protector and defender, so heading out to put down a bunch of monsters to keep civilians safe is her idea of a good day's work. She'd also definitely be game for helping the scientists get samples and such, and feel pride in the praise she'd receive for that.

9. THIS IS A GREAT QUESTION you know I love this shit and will worldbuild about it forever

I'll start off by saying that I do think there's such as a thing as "Imperial culture", in large part because the Empire is a society with its own distinct values, norms, shared history and myths, as well as mass media. Much of this goes back to the outcome of the Great Hyperspace War--Imperials view their nation as a great power that was subjected to a retaliatory genocidal purge, and this desire to reclaim their place in the galaxy and not be victimized again brought about the militaristic, high-control government they accept as necessary today.

Dromund Kaas and Ziost are the main centers of culture, and that culture evolves in an environment where the only real "outside" influences are those from assimilated member worlds. Travel for ordinary citizens is restricted. There's a China-style Great Firewall which blocks most foreign media. Everyone watches the same holodramas, partakes of the same cuisine, observes the same fashion trends (albeit with some variation depending on what social stratum one's in)--if you reference, say, a joke from a popular novel in front of a large group of Imperials, ninety percent of them will know it. (Coupled with their tendency to couch humor in desert-dry sarcasm, this shared media landscape tends to make Imperial jokes incomprehensible to outsiders. It's like five-levels-deep memes all the time.)

Pravin and Isra both have complicated relationships with Imperial culture.

In Pravin's case, he doesn't like to think of himself as culturally Imperial on account of having left the Empire, but he is. He absolutely is. It's a fundamental piece of his personality, no matter how much time he's spent in Hutt Space, no matter how well he's come to speak other languages, enjoy other foods, incorporate other fashion influences into his daily wardrobe. He still has that kneejerk annoyance response to breaches of etiquette, such as when people aren't punctual or address him informally at a first meeting. He still feels uncomfortable wearing shorts or sleeveless tops in public, even as he's donning loud patterns and leaving his shirts halfway undone. He still cracks up at the humor. But yeah--there's always an unease there when he's made aware of his own attachments, since it forces him to contend with grief he's not altogether ready to process.

Isra defines herself largely by two identities: as a Sith Lord, and as a zabrak. The former gives her a role and a place in Imperial society--that of a powerful defender of her country and its people, ordained through superior genetics and years of training--and the latter defines her as both the inheritor of Iridonian warrior traditions and an oppressed person. She's simultaneously privileged and discriminated against, lauded and looked down upon, an insider and outsider to the culture she was brought up in. Much of her teenage desire to connect with Iridonian diaspora culture--despite not having been raised in that community--was a means of contending with how much of Imperial culture is not for her, both in a practical sense (e.g. not being able to eat some of the foods since she's a carnivore) and through all manner of subtle exclusion (e.g. lack of representation of people who look like her in most major media roles.) She claims Imperial culture as hers, she has to, but always in a way that incorporates her racial heritage. She needs feet in both in order to feel whole.

13. Pravin would be doing a James Bond pose because I'm a basic bitch. Like, probably this one but instead of a gun he's holding a vibroknife.

Isra would have her knees bent, ignited lightsaber in her right hand at a low guard position and her left hand raised up near her head, fingers splayed to use the Force. Basically the longsword plow stance but one-handed.

[monocytogenes]

Ffff, great prompt.

Pravin: a directionless deceiver

Isra: the state-sponsored butcher, or the ever-so-loyal Wrath

And because I love them, Shara and the minister (in relation to Pravin):

a manufactured confidant

a callous bureaucrat

Small swtor oc exercise: how would Valkorian describe them if they were a companion in the dream sequence at the beginning of kotfe??

[monocytogenes]

(belated) WIP Wednesday

Tagged by @theluckywizard!

I recently acquired a gaming laptop and have been back on my SWTOR bullshit, so I've been going through some older writing and working on fics with my imp agent Pravin! (His main fic is here, which is more or less "the agent Shadow of Revan mission but make it a heist.")

I have a lot of headcanons about how the denouement of Chapter 2 goes in his timeline, including that he has a bit of a freakout, tells Shara he's resigning and fucks off for a while. He reconnects with Vector, who ends up being a very needed voice of sanity and convincing him to go back.

So yeah, here's a bit from Vector's perspective, where Pravin's explaining to Vector what the hell happened to him. (Vector doesn't know his actual name here--I have this whole idea that agents have operating names before they earn their numbers to keep their true identities totally unmentioned, so the moment where he drops a first name is a shocked reference to Pravin's operating name.)

Spoilers for the imperial agent story; warnings for mental horror stuff and drug use.

Down a musty corridor with sagging paneled walls, the sconces coated in dirt and bugs, he found the room and pressed the bell. A mechanical ping sounded.

Nine cracked it open immediately. “Back up.”

Vector retreated a step. He leaned out just enough to scan Vector’s surroundings; the glint of a blaster’s barrel catching the light. Satisfied, he released the handle, wordlessly ushering his friend inside.

The room was cramped, outfitted with a bed, a refresher and a kitchenette consisting of little more than a sink and a cooktop. The bedsheets were tossed about in a tangle; discarded clothes were strewn across the floor, and the remains of carryout containers filled the counter. Vector’s eyes widened in concern; Nine had never been a compulsively tidy person, but this level of disarray was unlike him.

Then there was the man himself, depositing his pistol on the nightstand and taking a seat on the limp mattress. He was clad in a short-sleeved undershirt, one of those issued with civil service uniforms, and his left arm was done up in a cast held in place by a sling. His sleep pants, sporting a lively geometric pattern, hung loose on his hips; he seemed gaunt, cheeks sunken beneath a layer of stubble. Unkempt curls tumbled about his brow; as he swept them back with his hand, his forehead shone with a sheen of damp.

He smelled sour with perspiration, tinged with sickly-sweet kolto and an edge of something sharper. Vector’s gaze slid to the nightstand. Emptied stim syringes lay atop torn-open packages of dressings, set beside a half-filled pouch of glittery spice.

“Stars,” he breathed. “Cipher—”

“Can you double-check that’s locked?” Nine interrupted, pointing at the door.

Vector turned, examining the lock, then glanced back at his friend. “Arnav, what in the galaxy happened to you?”

Nine opened his mouth and shut it again, his hand curling into a fist in his lap. “...I left Intelligence.”

“You did what?” Vector strode up and dropped onto the bed, his killik companion crawling out onto his shoulder in alarm. “Why?”

“They fucked me over,” Nine spat, the fuzzy edges of his aura sparking. “Those sons-of-scum stabbed me in the back. I just spent two months in a living nightmare because apparently I was too fucking good at my job, too fucking competent to be trusted—”

“You were—what is it called? Burned?”

“No.” Nine gave a humorless laugh. “No, no, I was...I was raped. Mentally. You know how they experiment on prisoners, and—how do I even kriffing—”

He wiped at his nose, searching for words. “You ever had sleep paralysis? Where you wake up partially and you’re seeing things going on around you, and you can’t move?”

“We know of this, yes.”

“That, but you’re fully awake. They tell you to stay, and you’re frozen. They tell you to go, and—” He swallowed. “You’re trapped in your head watching it happen. Can’t even scream.”

He looked towards the wall. “SIS got the trigger word. I don’t know how—one of them’s on the lam, they’re saying he’s got some other allegiance—but frankly, I don’t give a kark. For my part, I’ve fixed it; I took a hit of the chemicals and rewired my own brain because I had no other choice. And no amount of begging on Keeper’s part is going to change the fact that the people whom I trusted, the people whose job it was to be my lifeline, to be there for me whilst I’m running about hostile territory, doing what they don’t even have the guts to do, put me in that position.”

His voice caught; he motioned frenetically at himself. “I gave them six years, Vector. Six years of my life! I was loyal, I was good, I saved thousands of people, and this—this is how they repay me. Fine work, Cipher, you piece of rubbish. None of that meant anything at all.”

[monocytogenes]

Word search tag game

Tagged by @nirikeehan! She gave me disdain, chop, benefit, finger, and mixture.

I, shockingly, could NOT find disdain. Like, hell, I went back through my Hux stuff and figured it'd be there somewhere on account of his, well, everything, but it wasn't.

Chop occurs in somewhat boring context in a yet-unnamed WIP about agent!Pravin's experiences through the denouement of Chapter 2. The SIS folks are starting to realize stuff is not working during their mission and don't know why yet (iiiiiit's Pravin)

He cracked the door, checking to see if the hallway was clear, then cautiously stepped off. Sighing, Saber leaned back in her seat, watching those rhythmic lights. True to his word, about fifteen minutes later, a faint, garbled bit of speech came back in reply—hampered, as expected, by the thick walls of the complex. “I can’t understand you; can you walk towards my position?” “—ry,” the voice said; after a good thirty seconds or so, his voice came through choppy but recognizable. “I’d have to—further—be a power failure—”

Benefit shows up in Seems Like a Real Gentleman, where Cassandra and Varric have to go to a literal Orlesian orgy to recruit hire inquisition!Pravin on as a contractor to the Inquisition:

“Huh,” Varric remarked in mild surprise. “Seems like a real gentleman.” Cassandra uttered a scoff of disgust. Stepping forward, she called, “Fidencio Frye?” The man raised his head, a loose curl tumbling over his brow. “Qu’est-ce que c’est?” “We need to speak with you on a business matter,” she declared, in Common for Varric’s benefit. “In private.”

I seem to normally use finger in the plural but here's an instance where it appears in the singular in All the Times We've Said Goodbye, in the scene where the old minister and agent!Pravin talk business:

The former minister was dressed more casually than Pravin had ever seen him, in a leather jacket and scarf with a flat cap shading his face. He slid into opposite side of the booth, stripping his gloves finger by finger, and regarded Pravin expectantly. “Hello, Nine.”

Mixture shows up while inquisition!Pravin and Gaubert are talking politics in As With Any Shitshow:

“Have you heard about this Inquisition?” Pravin glanced up from his cup of tea, regarding the older man, who was reading the week’s copy of Le Royan through a pair of pince-nez. “What?” “Inquisition,” Gaubert repeated expectantly, sliding the paper across the table to him. “You heard about this?” Pravin squinted at the text through bleary eyes, lamenting again that the herbal mixture wasn’t coffee; the fighting might have slowed to a lull over the past few weeks, but merchant ships were still getting seized east of Val Chevin. Damn Gaspard and his stupid war. “So the Chantry’s finally doing something?”