#vicioushope

[obi1archive]

" no -- no , lie still. you shouldn't move. " a firm but gentle hand against the girl's shoulder as she wakes with a jolt , pressing her back into the earth. his other hand finds her forehead , fingers just brushing , searching -- there are injuries , yes , but none immediately life threatening. " are you able to tell me what has happened to you? my padawan has gone for help. " @vicioushope

[flxmekeepr]

" i'm almost done. " her head doesn't lift to greet the other. eyes and hands glued to the task at hand: a panel torn apart on the inside of the ship. she hadn't been given much time to fix the damn thing and it was a mess. most of the wiring would need to be fully replaced but this wasn't the time nor the place. her boss ran a quick service business. ships were in and out within minutes most times. she would need to simply rig it up and hope the entire thing didn't explode somewhere on its journey. " if this thing starts sparking midway through . . . don't blame me. " / @vicioushope

[stillsolo]

@vicioushope 𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚎𝚍 :: " i assume that the rumors surrounding you are all false and unrelated to why you're bleeding out on my sofa? "

               𝚂𝙿𝚁𝙰𝚆𝙻𝙴𝙳 𝙾𝙽 𝙹𝚈𝙽’𝚂 𝙲𝙾𝚄𝙲𝙷 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝙱𝙻𝙴𝙴𝙳𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙵𝚄𝚂𝙴𝙻𝚈 ,  han solo turned away to scowl up at the ceiling.

❝just thought your sofa might need some redecorating, so here i am.❞  solo waved his good arm, the action halting and cut short with a hiss.  shavit—was he still bleeding?  jaw set taut, he rolled his shoulders, finally working off the soaked fabric that seemed adhered to his skin, sliding it down his biceps until it gathered at his elbows.  ❝y’know i like to accessorize with red.  adds contrast—and character.❞

jokes aside, he’d made it out alive, hadn’t he?  han flexed his fingers and winced at the discomfort lancing up his side.  injuries had long ago become the norm for him, and he was no stranger to pain, but… come to think of it, han couldn’t recall the last time he came across a sleemo whose skill with a blaster perhaps rivaled his own.  the slimy bastard had intercepted him while crossing the docks, emerging from between a stack of crates before demonstrating one hell of a quick draw.  it would’ve fetched him a genuine compliment if he didn’t immediately level the blaster at han’s center mass, like this was a stickup and han wasn’t the type of man who’d shoot first and ask questions later.

❝so, rumors, huh?  dunno ’bout that, but y’know how it is.  people love to talk; they make me sound more exciting than i actually am.❞  with his head still spinning and his shoulder burning something fierce, han slanted a sideways grin at a face he hadn’t seen in over a year.  ❝you keepin’ tabs on me?❞

he should’ve taken the guy more seriously though, especially after his furious spluttering about a botched job and lost credits, that it was han’s fault his sweetheart had left him high and dry.  it all painted a picture han was pretty sure he had nothing to do with.  regardless, it’d been mistake to try reasoning with a nova-happy kreetle clearly off his repulsors.  as for his final mistake?  well, in hindsight, han reckoned that telling the guy to go frink himself was probably not the best way to deescalate the situation, but how could he have known the bastard had brought muscle with him?  like a mynock out of hell, the gran dropped in fast, closing the distance between them and nailing han square in the face, leaving him stunned and disoriented.

    memory blurred beyond that point.    han only vaguely recalled spotting a prybar and the stark flash of a vibroblade powering on in the dark; his own startled shouts of pain amid the thunderous drumming of his heart, and an additional mix of voices, lost somewhere in the commotion…  han shut his eyes and shook his head, letting a breath go slowly before he tugged at the rest of his dirtied clothes with sudden haste.

 they could chat about what happened later, preferably after he plugged what bloody holes now littered his body.

[pistolslinger]

@vicioushope said: ugh, i think i got blood on my coat.

"free red dye for you," he can't quite see her, still a distance away and turning over unconscious heads with his foot to inspect the damage; three so far aren't breathing, one had a definite hole in the skull that no amount of grisha magic could fix in time for him to go home. if they hadn't picked a fight with jesper and jyn on a completely peaceful night, he might have felt sorry. not to sound like a cad, however, he adds, "someone else's blood, or your own?" and then: "if you did get hurt, do you want me to kiss it better."

[fals3nd]

@vicioushope said ; i haven't slept since sunday . for bodhi!

the dark shadows under his eyes say much the same without the need for words. it has been - - - hard, recently. bodhi believes everyone around him has realized this without him having to say it. force knows how many nights he has woken any nearby with screaming or thrashing, or how often one of them have found him hazy and only half-aware, having wandered down some hall partially cognizant.

"i think there's still some caf somewhere." his hands don't pause in their rhythmic motions. bodhi has some scrap piece he's been taking apart and putting together repeatedly. it's something to do with his hands until he's cleared to do - - - anything else. at the moment he's still on strict light work duties, what with getting used to the prosthetic leg and his mind going blank and distant intermittently. "i'd - - - go with you to find some, if you'd like."

[myrlin]

✧ ˚ · . ✦  ›   @vicioushope  —  ❝ i'm going in alone. end of story.   ❞

                    regardless of how much he tries , the galaxy pulls him back into its quarrels. has he not suffered enough ? the loss of his order , his purpose for believing. all of it was crushed by the fist of the empire. there was nowhere safe to call home anymore , it was wherever he could sleep for the night. any job lasts months at best. the grey streaks in his beard were signs of how long it has been since then , yet it didn't make the grief in his heart any easier. the rebellion , however , ignited that spark of hope in his chest which burned out long ago. as much as he tried , he couldn't stop himself from helping them where possible.

                    the victory over scariff echoed throughout the galaxy , only to be followed by the destruction of the death star. it caused him to question his purpose in the galaxy. was it better to stay hidden ? or did his duty as peacekeeper demand he returned to the fight fully ? he supposed it had been answered as he crouched behind cover with the rebel fighter , jyn erso. the rebellion had reached out to him , asking if he could aid in escorting jyn off-world with whatever intel she had on her. ❝ that's suicide.   ❞ a beat , completely oblivious to the irony of his comment. ❝ i'll just have to leave this world with you if it means ensuring you don't get yourself killed.   ❞ one hand hovers near the hilt hidden beneath his robes , his identity still kept secret from the rebels. he couldn't trust anyone , not even those claiming to do good. the idea of furthering himself in this rebel plan didn't sound ideal for him , but it appeared he didn't have a choice anymore. ❝ let me come with you ... please ?   ❞

✧ ˚ · . ✦  ›  meme  —  accepting  !

[dsrtrose]

horse

[pistolslinger]

[arachost]

@vicioushope : i didn't ask.

“ so that’s kind of the thing about this gig, you don’t need to ask and i don’t really have the patience to wait for permission. ” the masked vigilante began with markedly great effort as the body in her grasp resisted her every attempt at holding on. gwen was accustomed to swooping in and saving the day — it was kind of what she did. what she wasn’t exactly used to was the rescued civilian fighting back. she grunted under her breath as she felt the woman’s sharp elbow connect with her ribs and her brows knit under the fabric covering her face. the blonde had half the mind to just let her go and see how she liked free falling from hundreds of feet in the air but the better part of her only grabbed the rough woman tighter. when she landed on the nearest roof, she let go of the brunette and rolled to a crouch.

“ you can’t tell me you were willingly letting yourself get cornered by all those guys down there. ” she gestured vaguely in the direction of the alleyway she had found the other in. pushing herself up onto her feet, she brushed off her suit and straightened up to place her hands on her hips. “ you’re free to go back to whatever fun business you were dealing with ooorrr, ” the spider jerked a thumb over her shoulder. “ i can show you a place where you can lay low for a while. ”

[wihltedarchive]

@vicioushope​

          none   of   us   are   afraid   to   die.               when   the   possibility   grows   from   day   to   day   ,               the   idea   of   it   becomes   reality   ,               there   isn’t   any   way   to   avoid   confronting   it.               there   has   always   been   stupidity   in   bravery   ,               in   doing   something   regardless   of   how   frightened   you   are.

“      maybe   you   should.      ”

then   they   would   never   let   you   out   of   their   sight   ,               serena   thinks   ,               head   turning   to   face   jyn.                there   is   only   one   more   thing   more   prevalent   than   the   knowledge   of   your   own   death   ;     the   love   of   your   friends.

[dsrtrose]

❛ just sit there and look pretty and let me handle this. ❜

if  eliza  looks  offended  at  the  mere  suggestion  of  such  a  thing,  it’s  because  she  is.  arms  cross  tightly  over  her  chest  as  she  mulls  over  just  how  intensely  she’ll  retaliate  against  the  other  woman.  the  look  that  jyn  receives  from  her  company  should  prove  just  as  such  -  in  fact,  it’s  rather  remarkable  that  eliza  doesn’t  act  on  total  spite  and  send  jyn  up  the  river  with  no  salve  in  sight.

“like  hell  i  will!”  she  retorts,  making  quick  work  of  unfurling  her  arms  -  from  there,  it’s  mostly  spite  that  fuels  eliza.  and,  beneath  all  that  spite  is  a  well-honed  adoration  of  jyn  -  to  the  eyes  of  anyone  else,  the  way  she  kicks  at  the  other  woman’s  toes  before  turning  off  to  deal  with  said  situation  herself  would  demonstrate  something  besides  love  -  the  fact  that  eliza  has  the  respect  to  say  something  before  storming  off  shows  respect  enough.  “i’m  gonna  look  pretty,  an’  i’m  gonna  handle  it  -  try  an’  stop  me.”

*      MEME,    still  accepting    /    @vicioushope    🤍

[pistolslinger]

whenever i see u on the dash im blushing and twirling my hair and giggling

*twirls my hair for so long it all comes off my head like a big ol noodle* heyyyy

[popstr]

you’ve been avoiding me .

SIM WOULD CURSE HIMSELF FOR HAVING FINALLY PROVIDED JYN A KEY IF HE DIDN'T KNOW SHE'D FIND A WAY IN ANYWAY. with his personal space, he is both immensely private and entirely too open ; he's re-purchased enough key fobs for his friends and family to give his building manager cause for concern, and yet, his penthouse remains his castle, the place he retreats when he needs his solitude the most as if its walls are impenetrable, even though he's given so many people the ability to simply barge through the front door. he won't bother denying the accusation, not when he's made it so painfully obvious - and not when he knows perfectly well that he lacks subtlety in such arenas anyway.

❝ yet here you are anyway. kinda defeats the purpose. ❞ he answers dryly from within the mountain of blankets he's assembled in one L-shaped corner of his sectional sofa. it's not even that he's upset that she's here, that she cares about him enough to check ; rather, it's simply his nature to dig his heels that much deeper into his own misery when he gets like this. when the living room lights flick on - her brilliant idea, he assumes - he seems to retreat that much further into his cocoon with a discontented humph. before him on the coffee table lays the entertainment section of the new york times from several days before, pristine and unopened, partially obscured by a half-eaten bag of whisps cheese crisps. it's a review that keeps him trapped here ... or perhaps more accurately, the potential of a review. truth be told, he hasn't had the courage to so much as lay eyes on the critics' feedback about his debut into the world of broadway choreography. by now, after so long letting it sit, if it's good, he'll feel foolish for putting it off, and if it's bad, well, he'll absolutely crumble.

truth be told, he's a bit surprised ( and more than a little touched, though neither his mood nor her disposition will allow him to admit as much ) that jyn had sought him out in the midst of his self-imposed isolation. she might frown at his seemingly insignificant problems, might even laugh at him some little bit ... but that reality pales in comparison to the fact she's here at all.

❝ no brisket this week, I'm afraid, if that's what you're after, and momma won't be bringing any of hers until saturday, assuming I don't make it out to their place for dinner on friday. there's leftover chinese takeout in the fridge, though. ❞ instinctively, he knows it's not the food she's after, at least not primarily, but he wouldn't be simeon sommerfeld without the relentless attempts at humor, however dry. ❝ and ice cream in the freezer. unless you're just here to observe me in my miserable state. ❞ the blanket mound shifts as he pulls the closest one tighter around him, shifting his little white cat ilsa in the nest she's made beside him and prompting a cranky brrrow. more quietly, more resigned, he adds, ❝ I'll be fine, you know. ❞

DUSTY TOYBOX.

[taitropa]

❛ well, i’m not that type of hunter. ❜

Cart sellers try to wave them down on either side of the narrow cobbled street. Inej has only stopped twice since she’d left her ship docked in the harbor of Os Kervo. First, for a horrendously garish strip of fabric stained the wrong side of the color of spring, which she can picture tied loosely around the collar of one of Jesper’s favorite dress shirts. And second, for a fine silver chain to fit Kaz's pocket watch since he’d long lost the last one and refuses now to replace it. Both treasures sit in hidden pockets sewn inside her billowing sleeves. She won’t trust even Ravkans not to try anything, not after life in the Barrel.

Not everyone wants her attention though. The captain of the Wraith is unwelcome among anyone benefiting from the slaver ships she sinks. Only days ago she’d disrupted a route from the Southern Colonies of Novyi Zem. Those refugees refuse to come off the ship in this leeway point meant only for a supply haul. In another week, they will be returned home. Some of the merchants turn away when she passes them. Others very obviously contemplate taking advantage of her in the middle of the market.

“We all hunt for something.” Her companion admits as much in what she does not say. Inej doesn’t track down as many secrets for a Barrel boy these days, but she still knows the tell of one when she sniffs it out. Jyn can keep this one to herself. “Life at sea isn’t glamorous. But if you ever wanted to change your course, I would welcome you aboard.”

🔪 WEREWOLF BY NIGHT SENTENCE STARTERS.