#venator add ons

[deoxyribovoltaic-acid]

THE BUILD IS COMPLETE!

UCS Venator: 5374 pieces

UCS Venator MOC Addons: 1309 pieces

Total: 6683 pieces

MOC addons include:

- 2 Arquitens-Class Cruisers

- 1 Pelta-Class Frigate

- 2 Gozanti-Class Starships

- 1 Consular-Class Frigate

- 6 V-19 Torrent Starfighters

- 4(5) Republic Gunships

- 4 Y-Wing Bombers

- 1 Republic Stealth Craft

- 1 Republic Attack Shuttle

- The Twilight

- Anakin and Obi Wan’s Jedi Starfighters

Stand Pieces

- 8 Transparent Stands (multiple pieces)

- 3 Transparent horizontal stands (multiple pieces)

- 25 Transparent 1x1 Round Bricks

- 6 Transparent Handles w/ Stud

- 12 Transparent Stick Aerials

- 12 Transparent 3x3 Satellite Dishes

[brineffxiv]

Aw hell.

Back up a bit.

So there we were, Venat and I, trying to enter Ktisis Hyperborea in order to track down Hermes, when who should we re-encounter...

Haha! It turns out that despite claiming to not believe my story, Emet-Selch has been (with Hythlodaeus' assistance) investigating the same things Venat and I have been. I am so happy about this. I was literally chanting "Yes yes yes!" When Hythlodaeus explained what they had been up to.

*Ahem*

We have uncovered similar facts and reached the same conclusion: since it seems unlikely that Hermes himself wants to bring about the Final Days, he may yet be recruited to help prevent them.

(ha... ha... in retrospect....)

And then Hythlodaeus laughs at him. I adore these two.

It's too late Emet! You've been contaminated with my friendship (highly contagious) now you'll never be rid of me! 12000+ years in the future you will care about me so much you'll plan for me to succeed after I kill you.

...oh no now I'm crying again...

Keep it together, you've got two whole posts to write to catch up with the plot. No way you're fitting this all in one.

Right. Right.

I find Hermes (and Meteion) in the depths of the Hungering Gardens and convince him to meet with our little group outside.

I tell him what I've told them.

Though reluctant to believe my tale, Hermes agrees to theorize based on his knowledge of dynamis. He concludes much as I have already suspected: that it is likely the varying densities of the people which produced the different effects in each Final Days - the warping of creation magics and the transformations of the people themselves.

But Hermes also points out something new: dynamis is itself only an energy, set in motion by emotion, which must have a source.

It would follow then, that this source... it must be a thinking being, in order to have emotions? Mustn't it? It's not a what. It's a who.

And as Hermes points out, the celestial currents form the outermost layers of the star. If the phenomena appeared first where those were weakest, then...

Someone out in the great expanse is trying to kill us.

Ah. But we have only a moment to reflect on this new horrific revelation, when...

Fuck. Oh, fuck. Hermes, you goddamn idiot.

But no, it's not a new "friend", it's Meteion's sisters reporting in. Meteion proceeds to "suspend" her individual consciousness and connect with the shared one.

Ah.

Oh. No.

Something has gone very very wrong.

Aaaaa!

Meteion is screaming inside my head, and only I can hear her. The rest can tell that something has happened, but they cannot see the truth of it.

And then, quite suddenly, she has disappeared.

Hermes explains that this is an ability Meteion has to avoid confrontation; she alters her aetheric density to blend in with her surroundings.

It's likely that I could hear Meteion's voice just then when the others couldn't because Meteion utilizes dynamis to speak in her mind and my comparatively thin aether left me susceptible to it. This means I'm the best chance we've got to track her down. We split up and search.

Danger music is playing! Danger music is playing! This is not a drill!

Several times I encounter Meteion or her voice and several times she runs away. Disappearing again. I glean from the brief snatches of dialogue that she is fighting her programming to compile and make her report. Something about the data her sisters have transmitted has frightened and upset her, and she does not want to present it to Hermes.

Our search party regroups to find a new plan; I will continue tracking Meteion via her voice, and Emet-Selch will follow, prepared to rain aether upon her to disrupt her vanishing trick. The rest of our party will work to blockade any avenues of escape, a task made easier in that it appears Meteion has fled towards Lethe.

Um. Lethe? The river of forgetting in the underworld? Can we uh... Can we not go into there? I have a bad feeling is all.

I am at once delighted and extremely distressed. The danger music is still playing loud and clear.

The plan works perfectly, for good or ill, and Meteion is cornered. Her voice in my mind begs me to protect everyone. She can no longer flee, and commences her report.

Everywhere Meteion has gone she has found the dead and the dying. Her dispassionate voice continues behind our mounting horror.

Emet-Selch points out the obvious problem in the mission Hermes tasked Meteion with: he did not account for a negative result. The premise of Hermes' question - what others live for, what gives their lives meaning - is flawed, if Meteion encounters only those who are dead or do not wish to live.

Venat orders Meteion to cease her report, suspend her mission, and return home. But Meteion is not listening. Emet-Selch determines to take Meteion back to Amaurot, as she will be needed in order to retrieve all of her sisters.

Hermes is still stunned from the revelation of both the answers to his questions and the astounding oversight in his instructions to Meteion. He kneels in front of her and seems about to acquiesce to Emet-Selch's demand, but...

Memories of Meteion and his promises to her fill Hermes' mind, and he resolves to accept the answers in her report, whatever they are.

Suddenly he transforms. Declaring that he will not allow Meteion to be taken from him until she has delivered her full report, he takes her in his arms and flies off towards Ktisis Hyperboreia.

We chase after them as quick as we can, but arriving at Ktisis we find a crowd of confused researchers outside. An alarum is sounding and the facility has been evacuated and put into a state of alert - a field of dampening magics is now in place effecting any who aren't Ktisis researchers.

Nonetheless, we must enter the facility.

OMG OMG OMG

(Of course Emet is a Dark Knight. He fights with love! In this essay I will...)

This dungeon is a downright delight. All the little bits of commentary and characterization!! HHHhhh!!!

Also I somehow managed to get Venat killed by double stacking a mechanic on her during Hermes' fight and Hythlodaeus res'd her. Hythlodaeus, my man, you are a Bard with a resurrection spell: you have got to stop saying how bad at everything you are because you are clearly not.

Yes, Hermes, you are indeed a mad, desperate fool, but you are a mad, desperate fool in serious need of therapy and someone to talk to. Your problems, to me, seem to stem from the fact that you feel so alone. Your compassion is hampered by the fact that you're entirely too caught up in your own head, and unfortunately, you do not seem to be much of an intellectual. You need friends, people you can share your thoughts and feelings with, and who you can bounce ideas off of so you don't send your emotionally fueled, vulnerable bird-daughter out into space with no means to shield herself from negative feelings. Bad idea, that. Also you need to calm the fuck down.

Together, we defeat Hermes, who returns to his humanoid form.

Emet-Selch declares he is taking both Meteion and Hermes into custody on behalf of the Convocation. As Emet moves to do so, Hermes turns to Meteion and apologizes to her, for being unable to hear out her full report. Hermes has just time enough to ask one final question of Meteion: was there happiness to be found in those stars?

Meteion's answer is long and features examples of failed civilizations that appear to hit close to home for each of our ancients. Those probably deserve closer examination, but that tangent got three paragraphs long before I realized there really wasn't time for it, because as she's giving us this answer Meteion is beginning to leak the black smoke that signals dynamis corruption.

A- Ah. AH. Oh. It's not. It's.

It's Meteion.

The thing out there that's trying to kill us.

It's Meteion. The Meteia. Her sisters.

They are the source of the emotions behind the Final Days.

And Hermes...

You. YOU. You...selfish monster. You bloody hypocrite!

"If man can learn to value all life and retain his will to live he will surely find a way to avert his demise"

It's not enough that you throw your precious creations at us to slow our advance through Ktisis, no, in making your judgement on man you in turn curse every life upon this star to share our fate. Or, have you not considered the method by which you sentence us!? Perhaps you are too distracted by your own despair to truly hear what she is saying: Meteion is bringing death to the star itself, not selectively killing off Man. You know this from my own account of what the Final Days will bring.

You're just like the rest of us; how cheap other lives become in the presence of Man, whether you seek to better us or to destroy us. I couldn't see, couldn't fathom, how you could be the Fandaniel I met in the future. But you've been him all along, haven't you? When push comes to shove you crumple under despair and it's not enough to take your own life, no, you'll make everyone suffer with you. Everyone must feel your pain.

Hermes causes the Final Days. In full knowledge of what he will bring, the pain and the suffering. He knows, and he chooses this. Unlike Meteion, who has become corrupted, unlike the Convocation, who will never know against what they struggle, Hermes stares evil in the face and embraces it. A mental breakdown will not absolve you Hermes, in this moment you damn yourself.

No. NO.

I forgot about that thing!

Hermes orders Kairos to rewrite the memories of all within Ktisis Hyperborea, beginning at the point of Emet-Selch's arrival in Elpis. Our memories are to be replaced with a vague recollection of Meteion and her sisters' shared consciousness becoming unstable and exploding, triggering Kairos.

Kairos begins counting down.

A lot of things happen, very quickly, all at once.

With his back to us, Hermes bids Meteion fly to the far edge of the universe where none can reach her.

Venat breaks her bonds and launches herself at Meteion, intent on stopping her, but Hermes blocks the blow and Meteion leaps into the air.

The break in Hermes' concentration appears to have freed the rest of us from our chains, and as Emet-Selch summons his weapon to challenge Hermes, Venat leaps aboard Argos in pursuit of Meteion. As the two shoot skyward, Hythlodaeus leads me to the edge of the platform. He tells me that here, this is their fight to wage, but that I must take the knowledge I have gained here back to my time, to my own battle.

Meteion is rapidly approaching the bounds of the star, with Venat in close pursuit. Just before Venat can catch her, Meteion shapeshifts into an actual bird (Hey! My friend has that minion! What!?) and speeds away into space, but not before Venat manages to tag her with a spell.

Emet-Selch and Hythlodaeus sacrifice themselves to allow Venat and I to escape with our memories intact. Kairos completes its final process as we soar above their heads.

In the final few seconds left to us, Emet-Selch proclaims that he still doesn't believe my story, but, if it must be said, to not squander the legacy he leaves to me. In futility I reach for him, feeling the weight of our history falling into place.

Honestly, I could barely manage to take screencaps of this part I was crying so hard.

But I caught his smile.

...

Outside again, Venat collapses on the grass, exhausted both physically and mentally by what we've just been through.

The spell Venat tagged Meteion with is a tracking spell, one with which we can track her. Though she is already unimaginably distant and beyond our current reach.

Venat uses Argos to check on our friends, now exiting Ktisis Hyperborea, with Hermes in tow.

As expected, they have no memories of the events that Hermes contrived to have us forget, and Hermes himself appears devastated at the loss of Meteion.

Wait, what? No. No no no no! You've just seen, literally just seen, that even when Emet-Selch believes something to be completely ludicrous he will do his due diligence to investigate it. Tell him. Tell them, the Convocation. Even if they don't believe you at least let them know about dynamis, so they can recognize it when the Final Days begins! We cannot reach Meteion where she is now, but you have time. Time to work to stabilize the aether currents. Time to find an alternative solution so that when the Final Days arrive it's not necessary to summon Zodiark. Don't you start this again. This information control.

Leaving aside her asinine view that public knowledge of the contents of Meteion's report would lead to some sort of further catastrophe... Venat is against telling the Convocation the truth because of her fears of what Hermes would do if he learned the truth?? Venat, have you lost your mind? Hermes is one man. The only reason he was able to do what he already did was because we had the deck stacked against us, we confronted him in his seat of power with our own abilities severely limited. It was a very specific set of circumstances!! Outside of these exact conditions what he did would not have worked! Hermes' greatest weapon is our ignorance, that's why he contrived to have us forget in the first place. You are wasting the opportunity our friends sacrificed all to provide us with!

You already know the key thing that Hermes will contribute to resolving the coming crisis! The knowledge of celestial currents! Share this knowledge and you will have no need of him!!

It needn't be senseless and seemingly inevitable at all if you would bloody well tell people! Hope is so much stronger when built on a foundation of knowledge. We cannot stop the Final Days from coming, but you can yet mitigate it. All needn't be lost. You can yet choose to do something different. I beg you, use this time to find a different path.

Please Venat, please do not let your future become my past.

[asleepinawell]

always thought it would be veeeeery interesting to hear about their society from someone who wasn't a high ranking city government leader or a scientist on a fancy research island. (the fact that someone can be high ranking already denotes a hierarchy)

did they still have jobs that were considered "menial" or had creation magic replaced those? (which...hmmm don't like that). could bob the amaurotine plumber get an invite to the convocation holiday party if everything was so fair and equal?

who was azem out meeting and helping? what kind of help did they need in a "perfect" society? I have so many questions

Once again being haunted and vexed by the concept of the amaurotine economy. What does that look like. Why do they have minted currency. What.

[laughhardrunfastbekindsblog]

My headcanons about Tech and Echo's relationship:

- They were insta-besties the moment Echo officially joined the squad

- ... Insta-besties who also lowkey annoy the crap out of each other 😂 (But they still love and respect each other enough to more than make up for it)

- Tech took the lead in filling Echo in on all the CF99 plans and helping Hunter figure out where Echo would fit in with the plans; Echo appreciated the information and doesn't mind Tech being overly talkative sometimes

- However, Echo frequently gets exasperated with Tech (THE info dumper) somehow neglecting to mention key details, and always calls him out on it ("That would have been good to know beforehand, Tech")

- Echo wonders how Tech can be SO smart yet so obtuse at the same time

- Tech is too self-confident and calm to take offense to Echo's exasperation

- Especially since Tech is just like "... No but seriously, that was so obvious, do I need to spell EVERYTHING out??"

- Between the two of them, Tech is definitely more of a risk-taker

- Both have a notable chaotic streak, though, which is why they often work together and come up with/follow through on insane plans

- Actually, the real reason why they often work together is because Hunter somehow keeps thinking of Echo as the more levelheaded "normal" one so he pairs Echo off with Tech in order to keep Tech in line... And then Echo's wild side kicks in and he actually goes along with (or even adds to) Tech's crazy plan and that's how we end up with Hunter over here dodging a collapsing deck on a Venator thinking well this actually isn't the most dangerous plan they've ever had so we're just gonna roll with it...

[lonewolflupe]

Battle Scars (One-Shot)

This was inspired by @fea-warriorheart's recent post. Seeing how Echo reacted to the medbay in 'Aftermath' TBB S1E01 (after the food fight), it's only reasonable to think he would have a hard time coping with the procedure to remove his biochip. And of course I had to add some Fives, since there was only one mention of him in three seasons of TBB. I'm not bitter about that at all

Summary: when Captain Rex brings the Bad Batch aboard a Venator-class cruiser to extract their biochips inside the ship's decommissioned medical facility, Echo has a hard time dealing with memories from his past (or in short: TBB Echo's POV on their biochip removals (TBB S1E07)) Rating: Teen and up Tags: light angst, light triggering of PTSD, emotional hurt/comfort, SFW Words: 821 Characters: CT-1409 Echo, CT-7567 Captain Rex, CT-9901 Hunter, CT-9902 Tech, CT-9903 Wrecker, Omega; mentions of: ARC-5555 Fives Read this one-shot here on AO3

“Is it supposed to take this long?” Echo asked with concern, turning towards Rex. Wrecker was still inside the surgical pod, and Echo was becoming restless. Not only did he fear for his brother’s well-being after the procedure and his prior rampage, but he dreaded the moment it was his turn. “I’m not sure. I’ve never been on this end of it,” Rex replied slowly, averting his puzzled gaze from Echo.

The machine hummed as Tech’s fingers slid over the console’s various buttons, before he exclaimed: “The procedure’s complete.” With a whirring sound, the surgical bed with Wrecker on top of it slid out of the illuminated tube. Omega walked over to Wrecker expectantly, but he wouldn’t wake.

A nauseating feeling took a hold on Echo. The air was pushed from his lungs, and it felt like an invisible grasp took a hold of his throat, tightening it, making it hard to breathe. His chest started heaving, his eyes darting around the medbay. The humming of the pod, the whirring of the machinery, the blue illumination of the tube, the flickering of the lights around them. It brought him back to a place where his body and his mind hadn’t been his own.

He was shaken from his thoughts when Omega firmly insisted she would stay at Wrecker’s side until he would wake up. Rex turned around from his conversation with Hunter, which had been lost on Echo, and when he did, he noticed Echo’s shaken state. His face softened, and after a moment of silence in which he contemplated his next move, he gestured towards the ARC trooper. “Echo, with me,” Rex shot at him, in an urgent yet kind way. Echo nodded sharply before following the Captain outside the medbay.

As soon as he made it outside the room, every ounce of restraint crumbled down. “Rex, I-I-I.. I’m not sure if I can do this,” he confessed with a shaky voice, his widened eyes darting around as he tried catching his breath. Rex put a hand on Echo’s arm, trying to ease him, to snap him out of his panicking state. “Echo, it will be okay,” he started, his voice slow and comforting. “I know this is hard, but it is way more dangerous to keep it inside your head.”

Echo opened his mouth to reply, but it took a moment before the words came out. “I-I’m not sure, Rex. I survived long enough with dangerous matter in my head.” A faint smile appeared on Rex’s face, but there was pain behind the Captain’s eyes. “I’ve seen what it does to our brothers. I am not ready to bury any more of them,” he said softly, almost in a whisper, before continuing: “Please, do it for Fives. We.. I owe it to him.”

Fives. Echo swallowed when Rex mentioned him. Focusing on his lost brother helped him distract his thoughts from the imminent procedure. Rex averted his gaze from Echo, lost in his own thoughts. “He figured it out and I wasn’t there to save him. I can’t bear to lose you too - not again. Please, Echo.” He was almost begging him, and when Rex looked back at him, Echo couldn’t help but notice the Captain’s vulnerability. It was only for a moment before Rex regained himself.

“I-I should have been there. I-” Echo stammered, until Rex interrupted him. “Echo, please. You couldn’t, so don’t let the guilt consume you. He’d understand. If we knew you were alive earlier, he.. He’d been first in line to get you out.”

The words hit him like an elevated speeder train. He tried swallowing the lump in his throat. “Alright, I.. I’ll do it for Fives,” he said at last, granting the Captain another sharp nod. Rex smiled at him whilst briefly patting his shoulder piece. “Good man. Thank you, Echo,” he said softly. Echo took a deep breath and walked back into the medbay to check on Wrecker. Rex lingered for a moment longer, leaning against the medbay’s doorpost. He took his helmet between his hands and turned it around, deeply lost in thoughts.

---

The surgical bed felt cold against the back of his head as Echo tried laying still. The bright, blue illumination of the tube shone on him ominously, as the pod was ready to devour him. His chest started heaving again, his hand clenched in a fist as his widened eyes darted around. He wasn’t sure if he could make it through this procedure.

Just when Tech was ready to inject him with anaesthesia, Rex appeared on his other side. “Echo, we’re right here. If anything happens, we’ll pull you out. Understood?” Trying to focus on Rex’s calming voice, Echo nodded hesitantly, his lips parted to let out shaky breaths. But he knew Rex was right; he had to pull through. He had to get that chip out. For Fives. So his brother’s death wouldn’t be in vain.

Echo taglist: @welcometo79s @covert1ntrovert

[freesia-writes]

The Hero We Never Knew We Needed: A Tribute to Bop

GIF thanks to @skybson

Word Count: 484

Minutes Spent Laughing While Writing: 19

-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-

The Clone Wars were a grim time, a galaxy torn apart by opposing ideologies and forceful rulers who sought to unite everyone under their own structure. Clones were created by the millions, raised at twice the speed of a normal life and thrown onto the battlefield as soon as they were able. Battalions would go forth, brother after brother falling under the relentless forces of the Separatists. Replacements were shipped in daily, as though one man could just as easily replace another, as though their entire lives were for one singular, dismal purpose. The heavy weight of conflict crushed the freedom and enthusiasm of the previously free systems, and what little joy there was to be found was fleeting, often followed by despair, death, and defeat. Wave after wave, soul after soul -- some would argue that those who survived had a harder time, somehow spared from the sweet release of death and instead forced to repeat their worst nightmare every day.

And then there was Bop.

A brave and fearless soldier on the battlefield, Bop would mow down droid after droid, dual-wielding his blasters and charging forth alongside his brothers with a fierce battle cry no matter how grisly the odds were. He was unstoppable, a force to be reckoned with. He fought hard.

And he played harder.

See, Bop knew how to live. His scarce time off was spent at 79s, where he could be found dancing the night away, a euphoric grin plastered across his face. His joy was infectious, and he didn’t care how many or few were on the dance floor -- he was there to start (and finish) the festivities. There were droids assigned to contribute to the jovial atmosphere, moving in their jerky rhythms to entice others to join, but they had nothing on Bop. He was CT-1999, because that was how he partied***.

He was such a battlefield hero that he was promoted to officer, assigned to a Venator-class Star Destroyer and placed over the ship's weapons systems. He traded in his plastoid armor for a slick uniform with gloves, a belt, and a gray cap, and proudly wore his rank insignia plaque on his chest. Insightful and quick on his feet, Bop was a legend. Droids feared him, fellow clones respected him, and creatures of all species yearned to be the one he would take home at night.

But Bop had only one mission. He did his job with precision and excellence, and when he was finally released to enjoy the temporary illusion of autonomy, he sought out his place of zen. His sanctuary. His place to both rejuvenate himself and restore hope and wonder to the galaxy through the delight of dance. The neon lights of 79s would illuminate every angle of his jive, painting the dance floor with his unbridled groovy enthusiasm.

Bop would die one day, whether by age or by artillery, as we all must fall. But today was not that day.

***(this line was a comment from @nika6q and was so good I had to add it)

@doublesunsets @rosechi @501st-rexster @meshlaxbunny @anxiouspineapple99 @softsunburstlove @starrylothcat @the-bad-batch-baroness @thecoffeelorian 😂😘

[merlincmgirl]

Power Play - Waxer x FReader - NSFW

Summary: Waxer has caught himself a traitor. Is there anything that you can do to change his mind?

Characters: Waxer, mention of Obi-Wan and Commander Cody

Pairing: Waxer x F!Reader

Word Count: 5,029

Warnings: PinV sex, fingering, oral sex (male receiving), one spank, dirty talk, bit of dubious consent but it's all consensual and planned out

Authour's Note: I just want to add that this is all consensual and that Waxer and Reader had previously spoken about everything off screen before this happened.

chayaik’ika - Little Tease

You clutched the data stick to you, hurrying down the corridors of the Venator-class destroyer and hoping to meet at the rendezvous point in order for you to get off the ship. Your employer was counting on you getting this information off the Republic ship and into Separatist hands. And they were willing to pay handsomely for the data that you had.

You were close to the hangar, a few more minutes and you would be able to hijack a ship and escape. The stick was slippery in your slick hand, sweat beading at the back of your neck. It felt like every person you passed knew exactly what you had done, what you were planning on doing. Trying to calm your breathing and keep your gaze ahead, hoping you looked like you had a meeting to get to and was not to be interrupted, you prayed that nobody would stop you.

Breathing a sigh of relief as you reached a corridor that was deserted, your escape was pretty much guaranteed as soon as you got into the hangar. Clenching your hand tighter around the data stick, you let your shoulders relax and knew that the end was near.

However, before you could get any further, a strong grip clutched at your wrist and you were pulled into an empty consultation room. The air was knocked out of you as you were shoved against a wall. An arm was pressed against your chest, pinning you to the wall and knocking the air out of your lungs. Struggling got you no where and you felt hard plastoid press against your front.

“Target acquired. Retrieving data stick now” the trooper that caught you reported into his comm. He gripped your wrist, your hands closed around the data stick and determined to not let go of it.

“I don’t know who you think I am, but I am not the person you’re looking for” you told him firmly, looking up at the trooper in front of you. He was dressed in full armour, a picture of a young twi’lek girl painted on the side as well as a number of tally marks. You knew this trooper. You had a few passing conversations with him during your stay on the ship.

“Looks like a spy to me. How about we do this the easy way. You give me the data stick and I’ll take you in and you won’t get hurt” Waxer bargained, pinning your wrist next to your head, stilling your already limited movements.

“Lieutenant Waxer, right? I think you’ve made a mistake, I was just on my way to visit my friend in the hangar” you excused, hoping he’d believe your excuses.

“Ah ha, sure” he drawled, and you didn’t need his helmet to be off to realise he was looking at you in disbelief. “How about you start telling me the truth?” he instructed, the arm across your chest lightening just a bit.

“How about you get your hands off me and I won’t kick your ass?” you retorted, quickly trying to raise your leg to knee him.

He chuckled, quickly spinning you around in his grip until your chest was pressed hard against the unforgiving metal. “You’re pretty funny, ad’ika, but you’ve got two choices. We either do this the easy way or the hard way. Either way, I’m taking you to General Kenobi and Commander Cody” he offered you, making sure that he was plastered against your back.

“I haven’t done anything!” you protested, trying to think of a way to get out of this situation. If you were caught, your employer wouldn’t bat an eyelid at you going to prison. No, he’d just try again with someone else and you’d be left to rot.

“Come on, ad’ika, there’s no need to make this difficult for yourself” he tutted, codpiece pressed firmly against the curve of your ass.

Gritting your teeth, you rolled your hips back into his, hoping it would distract him enough for you to break free of his hold. However, Waxer just went along with it, a slight chuckle escaping him as he kept a firm grip on you. “Fine, I’m sure we can work something out, Lieutenant” you grumbled, hand squeezing firmly over the data stick.

“I’m listening” he hummed, his warm breath caressing the soft, delicate skin of your neck. “Give me your best offer” he instructed, hand that was gripping your wrist sliding along your arm to squeeze your elbow.

“I’ll give you the data stick and you let me go” you bargained, closing your eyes as the feeling of his coarse gloves running over your skin sent tingles up your arm.

“I don’t think my General and Commander would be too happy about that” he chuckled, shaking his head as he pressed against you even more.

You were running out of ideas, if you didn’t get this data stick to your buyer, he would end up killing you. If you gave it up to the GAR, you would be labelled a spy and never see the light of day again. It was a no win scenario, and none of your options were appealing. “Please, if you just let me go, I can get away and you can be the hero because you’ve retrieved the data out of enemy hands” you implored, trying to twist to get a look at him. Even if he was wearing his bucket, you hoped if he could see the desperation on your face, he may show you mercy.

Waxer held a hand to your hip, squeezing you there briefly before his fingers began to wonder up your body, skimming the hemline of your shirt. “Perhaps we could come to a different arrangement” he suggested, grinning under his helmet as he felt you shiver against him.

“You can’t be serious!” you protested, shaking your head and struggling against his hold of you. “I’m not that kind of-” you gasped.

“Kind of person?” he finished, low voice sounding even lower through the speakers of his voice modulator. “Honey, you’ve just stowed away onto a High General’s command ship, stolen classified documents and tried to escape. You’re a spy, that’s the kind of person you are” Waxer scoffed, tightening his grip on you and pulling your ass even further into the cradle of his hips.

“Please, I’ll do anything else. Please just let me go” you cried, biting your lip as you tried to free your arms. If you could just get a hand underneath you to push yourself off the wall, you’d have a chance. A very slim one, but a chance nonetheless.

Waxer pulled back at your pleas and you gave his boot two taps with your own. His grip tightened up once more and he twisted you back around to face him. “Here, I’ll even play fair and put this here. Then when we’re done, you can go and I’ll have the data stick” he assured, tugging the stick from your hand and resting it on a table not too far away to his left.

“You’ve got the stick, you don’t need me!” you protested, looking around you for a way to escape. You didn’t want to draw too much attention to yourself, no doubt there would be backup coming and that would reduce your chances of escape drastically.

“Oh sweetheart, I’ll have to deal with Cody breathing down my neck for losing a spy. That’s what’s pushed the price so high” he tutted mockingly, gliding his long, dexterous fingers down the side of your cheek. “So, if you want to make sure you don’t get sent to prison on Triple Zero, I’d suggest you have a think over your options” he warned, thumb coming to tug your bottom lip out of your mouth, as arousal was building inside of you.

“Fine… just… fine!” you huffed, stopping all your movements in his arms.

“Be a good girl and do what I tell you and I’ll think about letting you go” he ordered, leaning his bucket against your head. His hand slid down to your throat, wrapping around the tense muscles as you breathed shakily against his bucket. You were surprised the HUD wasn’t fogging up. Pushing his head against yours briefly, he straightened himself up. “Now, how about you show me how clever your are and remove my codpiece and bucket” he suggested, voice smug as he took a step away from you so that you could think and see clearly without him pressing down onto you.

You huffed, fingers instantly coming to his codpiece and scowling up at the visor. All you could see was a reflection of yourself but you hoped the message got across. It clattered to the floor in between you and Waxer toed it out of the way somewhere behind him. He nodded in appreciation before your hands carefully and mindfully disengaged the airlocks on his bucket before pulling it off his head. This you placed over onto the table next to you, being very mindful of it and making sure you didn’t drop it.

Waxer was incredibly handsome. You couldn’t help that was the first thought in your head as you saw him. Obviously you had seen what clones looked like, had seen their identical faces, but the face that stared at you was more breath taking than any of his brothers. You couldn’t help but take in the sight of this gorgeous trooper; his head was shaved bald, his sharp prominent nose and soulful brown eyes. You wanted to reach up and stroke through the cute little goatee he had under his bottom lip, but Waxer’s hand snatched your wrist out of the air, holding it still.

“Good girl, so you can follow some instructions” he said, his large hand coming to cup your cheek. You couldn’t’ help but sigh at the warmth that soaked into you from his touch. “Now, you’ve talked your way onto this ship. I want to see what else this mouth can do” Waxer smirked, thumb coming to run along your bottom lip.

Scowling at him, you enclosed your lips around his thumb, grimacing at the taste of the material and wishing he’d just taken them off. But he didn’t, this was what he wanted you to do. Your comfort meant nothing to him. So you hollowed out your cheeks, trying to give him a good show of what your mouth could do to show him that you weren’t to be cowed or beaten by this situation. No, you would let him do what he wanted and then you would go. With the data stick in hand.

Waxer let out a delighted groan, feeling the way your tongue brushed against his thumb and the suction of your mouth. He could just imagine sliding his cock into your wet mouth, have you suck him until he spent into you. It made his hard cock give a painful twitch in his blacks.

Deciding to move this tryst forward, Waxer pulled his thumb out of your mouth with a small pop. “Such a tease, chayaik’ika” he murmured, wiping a trail of saliva from his thumb down to your neck. He let out a short laugh as you quickly tried to bite at his hand. However he just gripped around your throat, forcing you back into the wall and shaking his head at you mockingly. “Careful with those teeth, if I feel them anywhere near me, deals off. I’ll throw you to the mercy of my brothers” he warned, eyes boring into yours.

No, you didn’t want that. Your goal was to escape and snatch the data stick back off him on your way out. Having him call for reinforcements would ensure that you would never get free. So you nodded, letting yourself relax back into the wall as much as possible with him pressed so close to you.

“Clever girl” he cooed, the hand around your throat keeping you still, while his other hand slipped up your shirt. He groped at your breast, squeezing and groaning at the weight in his hand. He pulled down your bra, enough so that he could slide his fingers towards your nipple and give it a pinch. The clone trooper’s breath hitched at the loud gasp you let out from his touch. He rolled the pebbled nub between his fingers until you were arching against him, pressing your chest against his hand.

Letting out a small groan, Waxer pulled his hand from under your shirt and gripped your shoulders, pushing you down and forcing you onto your knees between him and the wall. “Alright, honey, time for you to show me how much you want to get out of here” he told you, eyes dancing with excitement as you reached for his blacks.

You could already see the bulge that had tented his pants, smell the musk of him as he was so close to you. There was barely any room between his covered cock and the wall. Glaring up at him, you hooked your fingers underneath his waistline and pulled his blacks down until they got caught on his cuisse plates and his cock sprung out. Waxer groaned from above you and you wasted no time spitting in your hand and gripping his shaft. You were pleased to hear his stuttered breaths as you began to pump him, the shiny red tip of his cock leaking pre-cum, using it as lube to help ease the glide of your hand.

“Fuck! Kriffing stars, stop! I want your mouth!” he growled, one hand smacking yours away from his cock and his other hand tangling into your hair and tugging your mouth closer. Apart from your initial capture, this was the first time he had gotten rough with you.

Taking the head of his cock in your mouth, you sucked at the tip, the taste of him bursting on your tongue. The hand tightened in your hair and you slid your hands up to grip at the top of his cuisse plates to steady yourself. Closing your eyes, you bobbed up and down on his cock, running your tongue along the underside of his length as you took him further into your mouth. Waxer was letting out little huffs of pleasure as you worked his cock.

“Fucking stars, ad’ika, you feel amazing. Like you were made to suck my cock” he gasped, eyes sliding shut as he bucked his hips into you. He couldn’t help but curse as he felt you gag around him, pulling you off him so you could catch your breath.

Panting against him, drool spilling from the corner of your lips, you leaned your heated face against the cool plastoid plates of his armour. “Not good enough… if you’re still… talking” you retorted, voice rough and coarse from his cock.

“Get to it then!” Waxer ordered, guiding your mouth back onto him. His other hand came to cup your cheek and you let out a little moan. “Gonna fuck your mouth now, mesh’la” he grunted, and your eyes met him in wordless assent. Tilting your head back slightly, he pressed his cock into your throat, not stopping until his balls was against your chin and your eyes were stinging with unshed tears.

Waxer groaned heavily above you, feeling your throat contract around him before pulling out just as swiftly. You gasped, air rushing back into your lungs as you tried to steady yourself. You could take him, you knew you could. Rapping on his cuisse plate, he thrust in once more and you took in steadying breaths through your nose as he began to fuck your mouth.

The slide of his cock against your tongue felt so good, you could already feel your pussy clench around nothing and he hadn’t even touched you yet. He was heavy in your mouth, but you tried hard to swallow him down, to not be beaten by him as drool trailed down your chin, making everything slick and messy.

The clone trooper above you couldn’t help but moan and grunt out small curses as he tightened his grip in your hair, guiding you up and down his cock just like he wanted. The noises you were letting out were going straight to his balls and he could feel them tighten up with every thrust against your lips.

A hand slipped off his armour and you slid your fingers under your waistline and between your legs. You were already soaking your panties. Your fingers lightly brushed over your covered slit, making you moan around the cock in your mouth. Just that small touch had lightning shooting up your spine and your hips to roll against your hand.

“That’s it mesh’la, you love it when I fuck your face like this. Touch yourself, bet you’re so kriffing wet down there” Waxer hissed out, teeth gritting as he felt the vibrations of your moans surround him.

You couldn’t help but let out a whine, doing what he said. Sliding your underwear out of the way, you quickly pressed a finger into your opening. You would have sighed in relief if you could, finally getting something inside of your aching hole. It wasn’t enough though and soon you were adding another, pressing and curling them in the way that you liked as you desperately searched for that spot inside of you.

As you curled your fingers into the spongy part of your walls, you couldn’t help but cry out around Waxer’s cock, the sound getting lost to the thrusts that Waxer still maintained with every roll of his hips. Clenching down around your own fingers, you felt even more slick and arousal leak out around them. Just as you were building yourself up to your first orgasm of the night, hopefully, Waxer pulled away from your mouth and reached to tug your hands out of your pants.

“You dirty, cheating-” you cursed, voice rough and hoarse from his rough treatment of your throat. But you were determined to let him know just how much you hated that he had stopped you from a perfectly good orgasm.

“What? You think we’re doing this just for your pleasure?” Waxer scoffed, tilting his head at you mockingly. He reached out to cup your cheek with a derisive smile, brushing away the tears that had run down your face as he fucked your mouth. “Oh no, honey, you’re not coming until I let you. Maybe I won’t, after all, spies don’t get to cum” he shook his head, pulling you up to your feet.

“Everyone thinks the GAR is so perfect, that you’re our saviours, but I’ll tell them the truth” you spat out, trying to shove him away.

However, Waxer quickly grabbed your hands and used your momentum to spin you around and pin your arms behind your back. He reached for the binders attached to his belt and clipped them into place. You struggled against the cuffs, squirming and pulling at your bindings until you were forced to still. A hand came to squeeze your hip and you nodded.

“You can tell them, sweetheart. It won’t make a difference to what happens here. Either way, I’m still getting that data stick” he shrugged, hands sliding up your front and to your breasts. He played with them as he slotted his hips against your ass, keeping you steady against his front. Teasing fingers pulled and tweaked at your nipples, and you couldn’t help the small gasps and moans that you let out as the warmth that had been building began once more in the apex of your legs.

“Kriff, you’re so beautiful, honey” he breathed, laying open-mouthed kisses along the back of your neck. You rolled your hips back into his, feeling his hardened length press against your ass as you did. Waxer groaned, fingers pinched at your nipples in retaliation before he bit into the juncture of your neck, soothing it with a stroke of his tongue.

“Waxer!”

Pressing one last kiss to the underside of your jaw, Waxer pulled away from you. But he didn’t get far, as he hooked his fingers into the waistline of your pants and shoved them down to your ankles, taking your underwear down with them. You were bare from the waist and the cool air of the ship’s ventilation had you crying out as it hit your wet mound. You shivered as you felt two calloused hands – sans gloves – run up along your thighs to your ass, squeezing your cheeks apart and exposing you even more to the cool air and Waxer’s gaze.

“Oh I think I can die happy just from seeing you like this mesh’la” he whispered, awe filling his voice as he took you in. Sliding his fingers through your wet folds, he gathered your arousal before lightly rubbing your clit. The swollen nub ached for attention and you couldn’t muffle the whines in time as heat raced through you. “Good girl, you’re so wet for me” he breathed, kissing your shoulder through your shirt.

You couldn’t believe you were both still technically dressed. Waxer was in most of his armour, only his bucket, codpiece and gloves removed. While you were still wearing your shirt and bra, your pants trapped around your boots. “Thought you were going to fuck me. Knew you were all talk” you goaded, wiggling your hips slightly to get him to move, to do something other than drive you mad.

Waxer let out a chuckle before a sharp smack filled the air and pain bloomed on your ass cheek. “Alright mesh’la, no need to get so testy” he grinned, stepping back up to you so you could feel the slide of his cock through your folds. He made sure to brush your clit with the tip of his cock, having to catch you when you stumbled forwards.

Deciding to do something about that, he shuffled you forward until his body pressed your entire front to the metal wall, the heavy weight of him keeping you pinned. Waxer kicked your feet apart as much as your pants would allow, stepping in between your spread legs and ensuring you had a steady footing. He laid little nips across your neck and shoulders while he rolled his hips into your ass, his hardened length sliding between your cheeks. Seeming to reach the end of his control, Waxer gripped your hips, pulling them towards him enough that your back arched. “Good girl, now stay right there while you take my cock” he instructed, one hand at the small of your back to keep you bent while the other teased his cock head against your entrance.

The first press of him inside of you had you letting out a sound that you had never experienced before. The way he slid inside of you, pressing against your walls and ensuring that you opened up for him felt so delicious. You choked on a cry as you felt fuller than you’ve ever experienced before. God fucking damn Jango Fett, there was no way the galaxy should have to deal with all of his clones being this fucking perfect.

Waxer panted out short breaths as he stilled inside of you, waiting for your nod to move, to tell him you were ready for him. It took a little longer, your muscles fluttering around his length as you relaxed into his hold. Squeezing your hip, he saw you give an encouraging nod for him to move.

When he pulled out, it wasn’t the quick, rough withdraw that you expected. No, Waxer slid out just as he had pressed into you the first time, slow, even and torturous. Enough to have you clenching around him to keep him inside of you but not enough to satisfy you. The kriffing bastard knew what you wanted and needed but refused to give it to you.

However that thought was soon pushed from your mind as he thrust back in, the move powerful and quick that it had you jolting up the wall, your front blushing at the feeling of getting filled so suddenly.

“That’s it, honey. All you needed was my cock inside of you to keep you quiet, huh?” he teased, setting a cruel rhythm that kept you both on the edge. He wanted this to last as he felt you clench around him. His slow, steady withdraws were in sharp contrasts to the rough, quick jabs of his hips into your soaked cunt. The squelching noises echoed around the room with each thrust, only just heard over his pants and your moans.

“Kriff! Don’t stop! Please don’t stop!” you begged, hands scrabbling to reach for his. Waxer seemed to know what you wanted because he entwined your hands together, pushing down further on your back to keep you arched up for him.

“Never, could never stop” he whined, resting his head on your back as he squeezed your hip, pulling you further back into his unrelenting thrusts.

You could feel the coil getting tighter and tighter, your legs beginning to quiver at the feel of your release rushing towards you. Waxer tilted his hips, the new angle hitting that spot inside of you that had you seeing stars. He must have heard the change in your noises because he continued to thrust up into that spot, sending you hurtling towards your orgasm that was ripped away from you before.

“Need you to cum baby, need you… need to feel you around me” Waxer gasped, hand sliding from your hip to reach around to your bundle of nerves.

“Yes, yes, please Waxer. Please make me cum” you cried, thrusting your hips back into his as much as you could from your position.

The tight, rough circles on your clit had you shouting out his name, your cunt spasming around his cock as he pushed you over the edge. You faintly heard a cry of your own name before Waxer’s hips were shuddering against you, and you felt him shoot his load into you. Your own release had triggered Waxer’s and he held you tight against him, shaking just as much as you, as you both came down from your highs.

When you both had caught your breath and felt like you could stand without wobbling over, Waxer pulled out of you, pressing a lingering kiss to your cheek. He lifted your pants and underwear up and you couldn’t help but groan at the feeling of his cum leaking out of you and collecting in your pants.

“You okay, love?” he whispered, turning you back around and scooping you up into his arms.

Not minding the plastoid you were pressed into, you gave a small hum of happiness as you soaked in his warmth. Waxer lay soft kisses along your crown and temples, both of you happy to just be in each others arms.

Grimacing at the feel of a glob of slick falling out of your sore entrance, you pulled up straight. “I think we need to hit the refresher and bed. I for one, would love to have some cuddles” you suggested, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down for a sweet kiss.

“You always have good ideas. This was certainly one of them” he smiled, hugging you tight to him. He gave you one last lingering peck before he released you, gathering his codpiece and helmet and securing them into place. He pocketed the data stick with a wink that made you giggle, before taking your hand in his own large one and leading you out of the conference room that you had been dragged into.

After returning to your quarters and showering, you tugged Waxer back into your bed, eager to fall asleep in his arms. You had both been working hard and your little role playing fantasy had certainly taken what little energy you had left out of you.

As you lay in Waxer’s arms, head pillowed on his chest and one leg flung over his hips, you felt him give a quiet murmur of your name.

“Was everything alright for you? I mean… I didn’t hurt you did I?” he asked, hand trailing down to reach your own and bring it up for the both of you to see. There was a faint mark around the edge of your wrist from where you had struggled against your binder and that seemed to be a concern for him as he pressed a kiss to the irritated skin.

“No, you were perfect. You didn’t hurt me at all, I really enjoyed it. I’ll wear this mark with pride, knowing just how wonderful you felt fucking me into the wall” you assured, looking up at him with a playful grin.

“You’re a menace. Keep talking like that and I’ll have to fuck you into the bed” Waxer groaned, shaking his head at you. “Was there anything you didn’t like?” he questioned, trailing patterns between your shoulder blades as you relaxed into him.

You hummed, giving it some thought and replaying back the events of your role play. “I liked it, but I didn’t like not kissing you. Next time, I want to be able to kiss you whenever I want to” you told him, resting your chin on his chest, looking at him with soft affection.

“Next time? There’s going to be a next time, mesh’la?” he chuckled, holding you to his chest.

“Yeah next time, that is if you want to do it” you said bashfully, turning to look at his excited face. The spy and soldier routine had been your idea, but if he didn’t like it then you wouldn’t make him do it again. The clones didn’t have enough agency as it was, you were determined to give him every option in your relationship. No matter if it was as big as this, or deciding on what bubbles to put into his bath.

“Of course I want to do it. Let me tell you about some of my fantasies!” he growled playfully, rolling you onto your back as he hovered over you. He beamed down at you before pressing a kiss to the corner of your giggling mouth.

[skellymom]

"Vagabonds" Chapter 11 "In The Depths of Darkness"

Ongoing fanfic Hunter x Reader/Fem Reader/OC

Hunter meets a smuggler Nomaadi Star Woman with a powerful force sensitive teen who changes the trajectory of CF-99's lives...as they ALL try to escape from The Empire together.

ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜰɪᴄ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴꜱ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ 18+ ᴅɴɪ

To read Chapter 10:

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/743633412345282560/vagabonds-chapter-10?source=share

Word Count: 1.4K

Background: Echo, Tech, and Wrecker help the crew of the Beldame. Will Hunter have regrets? Two flashback sequences.

Warning: Star Wars swears, Earth swears, fear, physical pain, fainting, blood, hypothermia, dog bites human, human bites human, human takes knee to balls, human takes fist to nose, canon-typical violence, medical trauma.

(Credit: Cool moving star dividers by @4ngelic-wh1spers )

Recap: Echo broke the silence, “DEFINITELY BSC! The message keeps repeating. Don’t know what the other part is...” 

Tech interrupted excitedly. “Notes on the musical scale!” 

Tech repeated the Basic Alphabet that corresponded with the notes to Echo. 

“With the Basic Standard Code...” Echo started the sentence... 

...and Tech finished it, “They’re coordinates!” 

They both spun their seats around and immediately engaged the Marauder. 

Wrecker stopped humming and tapping. “YOU’RE WELCOME!” 

"In The Depths Of Darkness"

It took some doing, Echo and Tech finally found the Beldame floating aimlessly out in space.   

The hulking ship was dark. 

“Are they...?” Wrecker was even afraid to finish his sentence.   

“I certainly hope NOT.”  Tech was EVEN MORE worried now. 

Wrecker replied. “But...What HAPPENED??? Where’s the Venator???”  

“I cannot answer that question. It... seemed to have...vanished.” Tech was baffled. 

“We can dock topside on the Beldame.”  Echo pointed to the top hatch.  “Allow access while keeping an oxygenated seal between the two ships.  Then haul the crew up into the Marauder...whatever their status is.”  Echo’s large amber eyes tried to hide his deep concern. 

“We should wear our helmets with oxygen gear, and each carry a light source.  I am unsure how long it’s been since their power failed” Tech added. 

“I'm on it!”  Wrecker started gathering equipment. 

Tech and Echo landed the Marauder on the Beldame’s back and secured the seal between the ships. 

When they were finally able to open the hatch and enter, the scene surprised them. 

The whole interior of the ‘Dame was covered in a very thin sheen of frost.  Wrecker, Tech, and Echo could see their breath with each exhale...when their flashlights caught it.  Otherwise, the cabin was completely DARK.   

To add difficulty: everything not tied down was floating around the interior of the ship.  The gravity had failed as well.  Luckily the crew of the ‘Dame was tied together for warmth and moored to one of the bunks. 

Wrecker floated in first and clamped a heat lamp to the interior of the ship and aimed it at the crew.  Echo, then Tech slid in.  

Muffled barking commenced, and Tiggy excitedly scrambled out from the mass of bodies.  She doggy paddled in zero G towards Tech still barking. 

Tech floated over, embracing her, then tucked the pup into a pocket on his utility belt.  He immediately started to scan the crew for vitals. 

“They are ALL alive, however, severely hypothermic.  Wrecker, help me get them immediately to the Marauder!”  Tech started to untie the binds to grab the first crew mate to take to the Marauder.  Wrecker followed suit. 

Echo assessed the interior of the ship, pushing floating objects out of Tech’s and Wrecker’s path.  He brought his hand back and found it slick with spots of fresh blood. 

“SOMEONE is actively bleeding!” 

Wrecker grabbed Hunter and...” Love has dried blood all over their face!  What IS GOING ON???”  He started to pull them with him out of the group. 

Tech immediately spotted the source.  “It’s not Love’s blood.  Mad is hemorrhaging!”  He noticed the area around the top of her inner thighs soaked through considerably.  She was horribly pale. 

Tech grabbed Mad and sailed back through the opening towards the Marauder.  Tiggy whimpered concerningly. Wrecker followed with Hunter and Love in tow. 

Echo grabbed hold of Sil, who even though passed out, was still tightly hugging Omega and brought them back to the Marauder. 

Cold black space remaining...black...darkness... 

Mad... treading through darkness... 

...voices echoing...touches brushing against her skin... 

...stabbing her arm...under the skin...searching for a vessel... 

Didn’t she escape this once before?  A long, long time ago?  How was she here again? 

Mad screamed and darkness filled her mouth, threatening to choke her into silence. 

Wires and medical lines flowed and coiled around her like seaweed, brushing her skin, threatening to tangle Mad’s limbs. 

Up above...a tiny light penetrating the darkness...she swam furiously towards it.  As she ascended the light grew larger, the voices louder...but the quality was distorted. 

Something from the deep blackness gripped her leg. 

Elongated white arms, hands with long fingers...like the bloodless corpses of snakes... 

Milky eyes peering up from the dark depths...whispering...where are you going, experimental subject number... 

She fought and kicked, gasping for air, swallowing some of the darkness...retching... 

...then kicked harder breaking free.  Treading water like her life depended on it.  Floating up...up...up... 

...breaking the surface, her retch turned into a terrified scream. 

Awakened from one nightmare into another.  Mad, bolted upright from a bunk in a foreign environment.  Cold steel and lighted mechanical panels surrounded her, no longer in the warm, comfortable environment of her own ship...  

 ...there was a mechanical scomp in her face.   

Echo, assisting Tech to place an IV catheter was the victim of bad timing.  Poor Echo NEVER saw it coming.  Mad powerfully kicked out, catching him full in the chest.  He sailed back and slammed into the wall.  Tech, concerned with Mad tearing out her catheter, grabbed her arm.  Mad sucker punched him in the face while screaming hysterically.  Poor Tech never saw that coming.  He fell to the floor holding his nose. 

Mad ripped out the catheter and sprang from the bunk. 

Echo ALMOST recovered...but Tiggy intervened.  The puppy, suddenly driven by her owner’s behavior viciously attacked him.  He managed to stave her off with his scomp.  But she kept coming for him, snapping and growling. 

“WHAT THE FUCK???” Echo yelled out. 

Hunter DID sense this coming. The second Mad awoke, he did too. He bolted from the front of the Marauder to the back.   

Mad didn’t get very far, as he grabbed and held her fast.  Both arms pinned to her sides in a secure bear hug.  She screamed obscenities and growled at him.  Clearly, she didn’t recognize Hunter at that moment.   

“Mad... ” She was clearly delirious. "We're not going to hurt you!"

Struggling did no good against Hunter’s strength.  Mad kneed him hard in the crotch.  Hunter gasped and went down on both knees but didn’t let go. 

Mad screamed like a banshee.  Her anger rising. 

In the next room Sil had a full-blown panic attack.  Omega held his hand, trying to talk him through it. 

Wrecker ran in and grabbed up Tiggy. The pup acted as if she didn’t recognize him at all. She bared her teeth and actively tried to attack him too. Wrecker tossed her from hand to hand like a hot potato to avoid being viciously bitten. 

Mad’s anger hit her limit.  She slammed her face down into the crook of Hunter’s neck and sunk her teeth deeply into the flesh... 

...at the same time Tiggy bit Wrecker. 

Both men simultaneously cried out from the pain. 

Hunter released one hand from Mad, attempting to get her teeth out of him.  Her free hand scratched at his face viciously. 

Tiggy slashed Wrecker with her nails. 

STOP!  Love placed both hands on Mad’s head.  She immediately went limp, released her bite, eyes rolling back in her head... 

...as Tiggy immediately went limp and did the same. 

Tech got up from the floor, nose bleeding.  “I...managed to record EVERYTHING!” 

“Fantastic! Could’ve used some help there.”  Echo full of adrenaline.  “Good thing the kid knocked her out.”  Nodding to Love. 

Echo and Tech grabbed Mad and put her back up on the bunk, then resumed replacing her IV catheter. 

Wrecker sat Tiggy on the bunk and offered his good hand to Hunter. 

Hunter shook his head and groaned, cupping his injured manhood, actively bleeding from his shoulder and face. 

Wrecker understood completely. “I’ll get the bacta patches.” 

Down...down...in darkness again.... 

...Mad drifted down landing on her back...A heaviness on her abdomen... 

...nightfall on Dathomir.  The stars shining above, heat of a bonfire, surrounded by Night Sisters. 

They tended to Mad’s every need during labor.  Empathetic, sweet, and powerful women helping to usher a new life into the world. 

Mother Talzin present and chanting over the fire.  Mad’s breaths corresponding with Mother’s chants and the contractions of her uterus.  Night Sisters breathing in unison as well.  Wiping the sweat from her brow and tending to her labor pains. 

It was the least the Sisterhood of Dathomir could do.  Mother Talzin’s son refused to be present for the birth of his own child.  Leaving the planet to live his own separate life as he pleased.  Talzin did her due diligence to be present for her grandbaby’s arrival. 

Mad was sorrowful, as the Nomaadi Community attempted to contact Mad on Dathomir to also attend to baby’s birth. Mad eventually discovered she was purposely being kept isolated from her own family. 

Two ships: the Dread Beldame and the Vardo covertly hovered out of sight in the sky, ready to take Mad and her child away at a moment’s notice.  Mad’s clone sister “SHE” rallied the few Nomaadi warriors who were able to help. 

Mother Talzin was none the wiser of this.   

Several Night Sisters understood and respected Mad’s choice. And, disagreed with Mother Talzin’s methods.  They helped plot secretly to assist with the intervention...some planning to leave with the Nomaadi as well. 

...because Mad knew beyond a shadow of a doubt Mother Talzin was only playing at being accommodating.  Mad could see the omen of celestial bodies in the sky above her.  A baby born under these conditions signaled to Mother Talzin this child would have some sort of significance.  She would keep the baby and NEVER let Mad’s child leave this planet.   

And she would NEVER let Mad leave alive, either. 

PLEASE like, comment, and/or REBLOG!

To read Chapter 12

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/747902380483526656/vagabonds-chapter-12?source=share

[asleepinawell]

while they've definitely improved some of that, the npcs will always run to the middle for that particular stack in holminster (similar situation with the armadillo in malikah's well). I suspect it's to prevent them from dropping the aoe puddle in the middle of the safe area since it would then be harder to program the AI to avoid that during the next part but idk. by comparison, they do come to you for the line stack in the last boss and in some other places. I'm not sure what the logic was in the hydaelyn fight because I rage quit after that since urianger had already murdered me and I didn't want to start over

and speaking of that armadillo boss, it does a proximity mine in the center followed by a donut aoe. so you need to get out to the edge until the proximity goes off and then in to the center get out of the donut one. the scions will always run into the center before the proximity goes off. it doesn't seem to be that big a problem except sometimes the healer will run directly on top of the proximity and instantly die. I've had urianger do this 3-4 times now. I just know to bring alisaie along now if I don't have a rez myself

in general, learning the scion AI behaviors in trusts is kinda like keeping track of another mechanic since in a lot of instances they're programmed to go to one specific place. for the second boss in vanaspati they all seem to have a set water bubble to run to and will get hit if you take their bubble

despite that, I do like that the supports/trusts let you follow the scions around to learn mechanics and I think it's great for people who are nervous about doing something new with other people and messing it up (like me!), but there's definitely some fun quirks you need to get used to. like the fact they'll often stand exactly one pixel outside of an attack so if you're following them and aren't directly on top of them you may still get hit 😔

though the flip side of that is that sometimes I simply do not learn the mechanics. ktisis hyberboreia is one I run exclusively in support (love the elpis squad) unless I'm playing with someone else and the first time I went in with real people I realized I had no clue how the snake man's head attacks worked because I usually just followed venat around like a lost baby bird. also everyone went to a different spot for the cross line aoes and I was Distressed™ because I was so used to where the npcs went

ALSO (minor 6.3 dungeon spoilers will try to leave vague) in the latest dungeon, on the last boss, there's a super confusing bunch of line and circle aoes that vanish before they go off and the scions will sometimes just go stand directly in one and fuck you over. thanks team!!!!

and then there's the thing where I swear sometimes urianger will get an aoe spread and just run full speed right at me. that guy. but really it's mostly that the npcs are programmed to go to a specific location with those and once you know it's not a big deal but man it can lead to some hilarious disasters

the funniest moment I ever had in a trust was in the hydaelyn fight when I got a stack marker and all the scions came running over to me and then. then. at the very last second every single one of them ran out from under the stack to group in the middle (AI anticipating the next attack I presume) and the stack went off .0001 seconds after they ABANDONED me before I could catch up and the wol's mom resundered the shit out of my poor lizard boy. the sheer and utter betrayal of that moment. exquisite. hydaelyn was like yeah you guys should probably just get on the moon ship and gtfo

[vyingeyes]

I believe in my heart of hearts that there are five clones per squad in Star Wars. Yes, I am using Domino Squad as my lone supporting evidence. They are arguably the most definitive example of a standard CT squad we get (at least in the TCW show).

According to Wookieepedia, though, this does not add up. The wiki claims that each corps had 36,864 troopers to be led. This, notably, does not divide by 5. It does divide by 4, but why would Domino Squad be the outlier? I find it much easier to justify why the canonical 4-trooper squads (specifically the Bad Batch and Delta Squad) would have 4 members rather than a "standard" 5. And contrary to all of this, the wiki purports the idea of each squad having nine members. Which... Yes, that adds up, but the idea of ALL THREE OF THE AFOREMENTIONED SQUADS being outliers somehow drives me up the wall.

Instead, I propose a corps of 40,960 troopers. Each corps has 16 regiments (each being 2,560 troopers). Each regiment has 4 battalions (of 640 troopers), and each battalion has 4 companies (individually 160 troopers). This is where we get into the units that we're more familiar with—such as Ghost Company and Torrent Company. Breaking the companies up gives us 4 platoons, such as the one headed by Waxer. Here is where I step out again from the trenches of division and multiplication.

I want a division between Platoons and Squads. This is where my "Units" come in. A unit is two squads squished together. Unlike a squad or a platoon, which are static, a unit might be a combination of clones best suited for the assignment at hand. Units would be referred to as their squad names combined (ie "Green-Crown Unit", "Orbit-Nexu Unit") and the mix-and-match nature would allow skills to be better distributed for the needs of the clones within. You could pair a squad with a medic with a squad that's going to be under heavy fire, or a squad with a heavy gunner can be put with a squad that needs to be covered while they try to help retrieve the wounded from the field.

There would be two "heads" of a unit, since each squad would have a single squad lead. Rather than pick between the two, they would be expected to work together and coordinate their squad members together.

A platoon would be 4 units, or 40 troopers in total.

EDIT 8/27: This just got reblogged again and for anyone interested I have made a few tiny changes based on some reblogs (which I did not see soon enough to reply to meaningfully). For one thing, I agreed with the comment that it's stupid to not have something between Corps and Regiments. In come Divisions. As far as I can tell (from Wookieepedia and memory, because I'm not going through every episode to fact check for a niche military unit type) Divisions were Not really used consistently in TCW era. For my worldbuilding purposes, a division is 1/4 of a corps and composed of 4 regiments. Every day George Lucas makes me do more work. Someone needs to pay me for doing math in my free time.

Also, I think there's been a good bit of critique on my idea of units having two leaders. I use the term "leader" very loosely. In terms of actual power, they have none. They're in charge of keeping their squads on task and coordinating with each other; some squads will naturally have chemistry with others, especially if they've worked together before, but for squads that don't get along, think of them as supervisors connecting two different work branches. Their only special job is to make sure the ACTUAL jobs (determined by higher ups [Lieutenants, Captains, Commanders, etc etc]) is done.

I liked the bit of commentary on backend workers (In TCW, this would include the troopers we see on the bridge of the Venators or in the security rooms in prison, etc) but I do think they're just specialized squads/platoons/etc. I do not have the willpower to give them any sort of special category in my already incredibly twisting Obsidian vault.

Also, the question of "how long did this take?": I am an English major :') Math is hard. Many hours. Many separate days. I am still changing it when it seems unrealistic. I have no actual military experience so a lot of research is involved. I THINK my numbers are approximately comparable to Life but I may be wrong. Sometimes I'll be writing and go "wow, this is bad" and then have to clarify ANOTHER section of unexplored worldbuilding. Why did you do this to me, George? Save me Dave Filoni.

[farfromdaylight]

so i've been replaying endwalker on an alt, and my main prevailing thought is: man, it is thematically dense. and yet, at the same time, not at all.

like, okay. the first half of endwalker is mostly about resolving earlier plot threads (garlemald, zodiark) and it's already pretty fucking heavy there: it asks you not to forgive the failing empire, but to acknowledge its citizens as people worthy of your help despite their nation's atrocities. zodiark you fight not out of hostility, but necessity: fandaniel, rejecting the mantle left by the fallen ascians, wishes to die and take the world with him. thus brings about the final days, which leads to some awful shit in thavnair wherein you struggle to save even one family in the midst of absolute chaos, and which asks whether you can hold onto hope in the face of despair.

but then you get to elpis, and you start to see how it ties together. hermes is ridden with angst over the day-to-day reality of his job as overseer in elpis. some creations must be remade or removed, and he can't bear the thought, much less the idea of his beloved friend fandaniel passing on and leaving the set to hermes himself. the specter of death hangs heavy over everything. and then you get meteion's report back, and it's clear that it goes far beyond etheirys itself. the universe is littered with dead civilizations.

add to this what happens to the ancient society itself — how venat ensures that they will live, at the cost of the bliss they once enjoyed. the only life that can survive must struggle.

then in ultima thule, you learn how despair overtook the other civilizations meteion visited. the ea stand out to me in particular: the futility of life, in the face of a universe that will inevitably die. a common science fiction concept, but so fucking unexpected for what began as a fun little fantasy adventure.

death, death, death. it all comes back to death. in the dead ends, pestilence, war, and ennui are the killers.

and yet, and yet: what is the ending, but proof that life prevails? what is the point of any of it, but fundamental proof that life is fucking hard, and it's still worth living? THAT is the pervasive theme of endwalker. it's told in myriad ways and i don't personally think they all work, but in the end, the punch lands. it's worth fighting. it's worth it to keep going, even when you're at your worst.

endwalker is fucking depressing. it's also one of the most hopeful stories i've experienced. at every turn, you still get up. you still keep going. in the face of impossible odds, you don't let up. what's the point of it all, if not that?

[stormclaws]

thinking about the parallels between venat and g'raha and i need to lie down (but i rambled for 1.5k words instead)

major spoilers up through the end of endwalker

like they're both victims of circumstances beyond their control, right? there's no right choice to make. there's no objective way out to save everyone. but if they don't act, then there will be nobody left to save at all.

there's one person they know could do the impossible. all they need to do is put their entire trust in them, structure hundreds (or thousands) of years of their life into a singular plan to prevent disaster, and wait for them to kill you.

let's think about old sharlayan. the day theme is so pretty! the atmospheric singing is a bit hard to make out but it adds to the vibes. you can tell that they planned the city the best they could around the terrain. everything is grouped together in places that make sense, structured around learning and preserving knowledge.

we find out that beneath the city is labyrinthos, but deeper beneath that is the aitiascope. they've gone looking for god and they've found her.

and all this time she is singing. she is guiding souls gently into the afterlife with a gentle lullaby. you finally realize it: this is the singing you hear in old sharlayan. you can hear god alive and well.

imagine her watching the other reflections. each of the rejoinings. an imperfect decision that led to the final days of other entire worlds (i mean. not directly her fault but you get it) and just watching as those calamities ripple over to the source. holding on to the world she split apart. planning escape routes for humanity with the best possible outcome leading to her death.

like can you just imagine that. waiting for the one who will ultimately save the entire universe, the only one who will have then known you personally as the human you once were. who will have SEEN this put in motion and you trust them not only with your life, but the life of every person on etheriys.

and you've been holding on all these years because you want to give them one final test and blessing, culminating in your death. you grow weaker every day. and one day you finally see the strange adventurer from all those years ago come into existence and make ready for them to end yours.

do you even think about the fact that they might fail? that instead, you kill them and all of this will have been for nothing? will your love for humanity and trust in this one, singular individual have been enough?

you wait and you sing.

and back above the surface, you (the player) find some sort of familiarity in old sharlayan that you can't quite place at first. i mean yeah, there's new sharlayan in the hinterlands but you figure that the two would look similar. but when you think of the singing, another city comes to mind: the crystarium.

g'raha mentions that he based the look of the crystarium after his time in old sharlayan. it's easy to see once you pay attention: the domes, arches, white brick, and the overall elegance of the city. but even more importantly, it's designed in such a smart way that every part of the city has its own section. you can even draw similarities between the studium and crystal tower as center points.

beneath the city, they're growing plants to try and restore some of the damage from the flood of light. there's precious knowledge they want to save. they can use the crystal from the tower in the domes as protection.

the crystal exarch loves his people, but he loves his home world beyond imgine. he promised with his life to keep it safe which is why he locked himself away in the crystal tower; it was the only way to prevent it from falling into the wrong hands. he was promised to be woken up when things finally got better. instead, he awoke to a future where everyone and everything he's known is dead.

do you think the blue crystal of the domes was a reminder for the people of the crystarium of the blue skies they lost a hundred years ago? or for the home g'raha could never return to?

there's no right way forward, but there is one thing he could try. there's one person he knows could make things right. so he spends a building a city, protecting his people, and studying the tower's secrets so he could tear that one person from the source and bring them to the first. it's incredibly dangerous for the warrior of light, but ultimately the crystal exarch will be the one to pay the consequence for this: his life.

like we all know how tragic it is, right? waiting all that time with the stories of the warrior of light to keep him company. he wanted to be an adventurer just like venat wanted to spend her retirement traveling the star. the game makes it very clear that he talks about what he would have loved to do if his duty didn't set him on this path. i don't need to re-invent the wheel.

but let's take a minute to let that sink in. all of this time and effort for the best possible outcome to lead to your death. imagine that there's no other way out. you've had all this time to think about it; what's one life in exchange for countless others? it's the love of his world and the warrior of light that keeps him going. (consider that love how you will--admiration, romantic, trust)

he needs that love to be the blade that kills him.

and this whole thing might fail, too. he's risking your life on this bet as well. it might be too much for the warrior of darkness and the corruption might create the most powerful light warden ever imagined. but the people of the first and source were already doomed. he reassures himself that threading this needle is the right way. he reads the tomes of the warrior of darkness's deeds over and over and over, imagining it was him by their side instead of alone in the tower.

as a lover of stories, he'd want to make this a good one. one that hurt less for the protagonists. if he can convince everyone (including himself) that he betrayed the warrior of darkness for his own selfish deeds in his final moments, it'll be easy to let him go. painless and hated. cauterize the wound on the killing blow.

...but the thing is, that's not what happens.

so let's actually reroute for a minute. we've spent this entire game with the mantra "for those we have lost, for those we can yet still save".

estinien sharpened his life into a blade for revenge. he built himself for one purpose and was ready to die to achieve it. when he begged for us to kill him after the final steps of faith, we said not today and found a way to make him live.

g'raha--at least one version of himself--ultimately lived because we found a way out together.

there's no way to save venat. either we kill her, or she kills us and dies in the final days.

imagine g'raha recognizing himself through her. that used to be him. do you think he would have tried to find another way out for her? stayed up at night for weeks on end afterwards wracked with survivor's guilt?

he, above anyone else, could understand completely the way she felt. maybe instead he felt catharsis in the fact that she could die with a duty fulfilled? with the dignity she wanted? did he feel grateful for her sacrifice, empowered by the fact that he got to live a second time when so many others couldn't?

do you think he was proud that he could fulfill her one last wish, the same one he had in a different lifetime?

maybe he found peace in the fact they both knew this: even if they die, their love will live on. everyone else lives because they won't.

...admittedly, despite this whole thing being about endings, i'm not great that myself. i've got literally no idea how to wrap up these wramblings, but i've been listening to the sharlayan day theme, the crystarium night theme, and flow on repeat while writing this. the music in this game carries so much weight so i think i'll just leave you with some lyrics from these to ponder on instead:

Deep, dark, far away, I have heard your voice, weighed your every choice Now our hands join round the meaning you sought I'll catch your tears, quench your fears with joy, til you near the shore Where in time, all shall as hope be reborn

Stand tall my friend, may all of the dark lost inside you find light again, this time, tumbling, turning, we make amends, eternal winds from the land ascend here to lift us that we won’t end!

[deoxyribovoltaic-acid]

I was perfectly reasonable

Not even god could comprehend some of the gizmos Lego engineering mfs be crafting

[lookbluesoup]

Do people ship Azem/Venat much?

I see tons of Azem paired with Emet Selch, Hythlodaeus, Elidibus, and even know about some Hermes and a Lahabrea... but I'm not sure I've ever seen one with Venat.

It seems like lots of potential there, they were obviously very close if Azem took over her seat.

And a similar possible dramatic fallout to an Emet or Elidibus ship (or any Convocation member), since Azem wouldn't join Venat in summoning Hydaelyn either, even when asked.

There's all the potential narrative drama it adds to the MSQ. We know Emet never got over the loss of Azem, but did Venat? Would seeing Azem's shards struggle and suffer and die over and over make it harder for her if the two had been lovers, instead of friends?

Plus uncomfortably familiar almost-not-quite-memories for the WoL, any time they speak with Hydaelyn.

idk, aside from the narrative potential - she's pretty, she's spunky, she's a rebel. As popular a character as she is, it occurs to me I just personally haven't seen shippy stuff with her, yet. I'd have expected it to cross my dash at least now and then!

[hello-there-cyarika]

More Hive Troopers <3

More bee troopers! ... Boopers.... BEE-PERS (all of my file names that feature these boys so far have referred the them as "the beepers" lol)

Anyhow, I figured I'd add some more information on how the hive troopers operate below, so keep on reading!

At the start of the war, the venators were outfitted with barracks for the troopers that were fully furnished with bunks and such things

The troopers.... didn't really like the bunks... like at all

The would take the bunks and push them all over to one side, and use the rest of the room as a building space for a huge wall of honeycomb!

Eventually the Jedi caught on, and helped the troopers remove all of the unused bunks

The troopers build huge, ceiling to floor, winding walls of honeycomb to act as the hive's living quarters

The honeycomb compartments come in a variety of sizes!

The biggest compartments are longer than a trooper is tall, and about 2x a trooper's width (wings and secondary abdomen included) in diameter, so these compartments are the ones for sleeping in!

Some are even wider, for those who like to share :)!

The sleeping compartments are filled with comfy pillows and blankets left from the bunks

Various smaller compartments are perfectly sized for storing extra pillows and blankets, datapads, personal items, and all sorts of things!

The gear lockers, which came with the original furnishing of the room, are built into the thicker walls of the honeycomb

The troopers will only very begrudgingly admit that the gear lockers are more suited for storing their kit than the honeycomb (they're very salty that the locker is not an optimal shape to fit in with the rest of the honeycomb)

Gear lockers are not honeycomb optimized

Anyway

Troopers are capable of creating beeswax just like any bee, albeit for much longer during their much longer lifespan, and in much larger quantities

Hence why in the doodle above, Wooley, who is off duty and helping to build up the honeycomb, is not wearing upper armor.

Bees produce wax from the underside of their abdomen, and trying to reach around to collect that while in full upper armor is... less than comfortable lol

Speaking of anatomy, despite being clones, all troopers' wings are entirely unique!

Well, almost entirely- twins have identical wings!

(this may or may not be a Secret of the Wings reference that movie is so good)

Clone trooper twins are grown in the same tube, and have a special connection

Twins are also SUPER rare

The iconic @cacodaemonia invented this concept for me, and as far as I'm concerned their OC Kom'mrk is 10000% canon and has matching wings to Boil!

(please for fucks sake yall go read Open Skies I stg my life has not been the same since)

Cadets have very weak wings when they're first decanted

It takes until they're about 3.5-4 standard for their wings to fully develop and strengthen enough for them to fly

Until then, they practice by buzzing a whole lot to strengthen the muscles in their torso

On another anatomical topic, the way that troopers communicate in the "hive mind" is via pheromones!

Just like bees, they have extremely sophisticated and complex pheromone signals that can only be detected by other troopers via their antennae

During the night cycle/sleep hours, troopers will try and keep quiet and communicate primarily via pheromones

If you're not a trooper (or a Jedi lol), the only way you'd be able to figure out their silent communication is with super complex and specialized equipment

On the other hand, troopers have to watch out for weapons from the Separatists that involve pheromone-mimicking gases

The gases could cause them to lose their sense of direction, get cut off from the rest of the hive, or other disorienting things

Speaking of directions!

(fuck i have so many ideas to get out lol)

While the idea of the troopers doing a proper bee waggle dance is absolutely hilarious and so cute to me, I think that in reality it'd be a bit more calm

Instead of lots of crazy shaking back and forth, it's more of a purposeful sway!

This.... does make dancing at 79's significantly more confusing when they first start learning to dance for fun

Echo: "are you telling me that there's something I need to go find 400 klicks away at 32 degrees??"

Fives: "what no I'm just having fun"

Unlike bees, who only use the sun, troopers can also use the moon to calculate their maps!

On planets with multiple moons and/or suns, the commander will choose one sun/moon to be used as the reference for all maps

When on a moon for a campaign, the moon's planet can also be used

In rare and difficult situations, troopers can also use particularly bright stars! Usually only the ARFs are skilled enough for that, though

I think for my next doodle I'll either do wolffe, fox, thorn, tup, and dogma OR the bad batch + omega... haven't decided yet! let me know if you have a preference lol

anyway thank you all for giving so many lovely comments on my previous post about these boys! i love yall so much <33333

<3 I do not give my consent or my permission for my art to be re-posted or reuploaded on this or any other website <3

[orangedodge]

I was tagged by @danzafila.

"Here's the rules: Once you've been tagged, make a poll of your favorite female characters (no limits--as many or as few as you like) to see who your followers like the most. Then, spread the fun and tag however many more people you want!"

I'm not really sure how polls work so I did enforce a limit on myself to only include twelve characters, to make sure nothing would get cut off. To add some variety I tried to hold myself to no more than three characters per medium, and no more than one character per work (or series of works). I've included only characters for whom official artwork exists, to avoid accidentally stealing fan art.

Honorary mentions include Captain Janeway, Kira Nerys, Daenerys, Cordelia Chase, Starbuck, Luthien, Illyana, Kreia all defeated by the arbitrary rules I've subjected myself too, or in one case by my inability to find a JPEG. You're all in my thoughts always.

Tagging: @dannybagpipesarecalling @maastrichtiana @isagrimorie @liesmyth @secretlyasummers @sekaithemystic @mikeellee @notsobignews @northstarfan

I tried to stick to people I haven't seen play this game yet. Feel free to ignore if you don't like tag games.