Oh, the queen of peace / always does her best to please / is it any use? / somebody's gotta lose / like a long scream / out there , always echoing / oh , what is it worth ? / all that's left is hurt
ind . sel . star wars oc crafted by mills . est 1/2017 . theme credit to iniziare
he’s torn IN HALF doomed to walk a fine line between repression and giving into his senses completely ( jaq & atton , apathy & atonement , walking away & giving into her ) . maybe he’ll never understand her and the convoluted code she clings to , but he RESPECTS her boundaries , would never push her to a place she’d be uncomfortable with . trust is the most the important foundation of whatever it is they’ve got going , he’s not stupid enough to break that so easily . still the kiss had been real enough — unchecked and lacking in restraint . even now he can tell she’s fighting something within her , waging war with conflicting emotions just as he is . maybe a little PUSH is what she needs . maybe she even wants him to , placing collision in his hands . there’s a feeling that transcends the usual lust , buried DEEP beneath the haze her lips have made around his mind . it’s rooted someplace unfamiliar , unused ; too complex to define , too dangerous to put a name on . but it’s enough to know that one measly kiss on the floor of the cargo hold isn’t going to get the blasted woman out of his system . dark eyes transfix on the green of her own , the flush of her cheeks , smooth curvature of her mouth . it hadn’t been enough , hadn’t nearly been enough , and really he should know by now that it NEVER would be . he’s not a man so easily satisfied . or placated .
he sits up slowly , follows her motion , both hands raise in a gesture of surrender , but ultimately UNREPENTANT .
she’s saying a whole lot of nothing , mouth moving , evading a confrontation he’s decidedly postponed . sure , he could just brush it off with a way to kick me while i’m down , and go drown the rest of his troubles with some whiskey in the cockpit . but he DOESN’T . the last faltering grip on his self control slips as he moves his hands to cup her face , hovering DANGEROUSLY just above her mouth . ❝ mmm hmmm . ❞ a hum , non-committal , and consequences be damned , he’s kissing her again , purposeful and more insistent this time , lips hard and searing .
a hand drops from her cheek , drags along her back and then to the ground behind her , supporting himself as he leans in further , a playful nudge from his mind to her own as if to say ‘ try and walk away from this one ‘ and space , he hopes she doesn’t .
There was something strange within their minds, a self destruction that took form in the eyes that only saw a striving BEAUTY. She kicked herself, she was slipping from the cautious grips of control he had on herself, on those stupid emotions that tugged at her heart, to be so reckless to allow herself to become so VULNERABLE. The trust the redhead dared to settle into the pilot was something that developed so easily over such an amount of time. Lingering eyes and wandering thoughts were the very fabric of their relationship ——– hesitated touch, meaningful curls of their lips. How WONDERFUL it felt to tiptoe that line of such a magnetic pull. He was tugging at her, pushing her to simply take the stupid LEAP of faith. She was watching him, and there was a sensation that dug into her deeper than any sharp blade. The very painful truth came to her and it was made very visible by his own touch. Her chin lifted in his hands, making their very gaze undivided. No matter how much a part of her wanted to pull —– her own reckless CRAVING for him would render her frozen, only for him to melt her with his very burning gaze. And she was falling —– back, back, back —- and it was almost every inhale was HIM, every sensation was HIM. LET GO, TIDREEN. Such celibacy couldn’t contain the acceptance and enjoyment from the submission she laid against his dominating persistence. They knew this was coming, it was only a matter of time. Lips moved with the others, a lost grunt seeping from her as her entire petite form had altered, moving with him as if they’d become one steady and synchronized force of the same goals. Thin fingers move to keep a hanging grip on the back of his neck, tangling into the darkened strands of his hair. Oh if only the Jedi Council could see her NOW. She pushed into him, unarmed, unbarrred ——— He’d won. She was VULNERABLE. This wasn’t about a battle for control anymore, this was a victory of REALIZATION and ADMITTANCE to the very uncontrollable hunger they possessed for one another. STARS, and this was the reward. How could she be so SILLY to run from this very relief from loneliness? And she BREATHED. For once, she was content. Sliding onto her own backside, her lips pried from him from circumstance —- and she SMILED. Vibrant greens persisted shut for just another moment as if stuck in a beautiful daydream. Her nose danced across his, stuck in a naive pull to just stay close to him. He’s going to get ADDICTING. She’s BREATHLESS, inching for more, and her own innocent lure to DARE once again.
— This blog is selective. I have the right to be picky with who I interact with or not.
— I do, in fact, look at your writing. I try to be very open minded, but there’s times where if I cannot reply nor understand what you are trying to say, then we have a problem.
— I try to reply to every ask I get, if I don’t reply: I don’t know how to respond, or it got eaten because Tumblr gets hungry too.
— I try to reply with icons mostly.
— I know I suck at this roleplay thing, no need to remind me.
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— I follow the tag alderastars.
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— I do not replace, do not think I have replaced you for any reason. This is my blog and I am allowed to roleplay with anyone I please, even duplicates of other characters. If it truly bothers you to an extreme amount, come talk to me.
CODEX.
She would be brave. She would be heroic. She would make her own destiny.
CODEX.
NAME: TIDREEN KILLSPREE
AGE: 22
HEIGHT: 5'5"
HOME PLANET: Alderaan
ABILITIES: Jedi, Force Sensitivity
BORN TO A RATHER STRUGGLING FAMILY, Tidreen wasn’t the only child. Her family was a rather kind folk, raising two girls, one five years older than the other. While Tidreen was still young, the Empire had gotten some hold on the worse for wear families, ripping away the eldest sister, taking her for their own to raise to become the perfect assassin they wanted, and the younger was left behind with a broken family.
NOT LONG LATER, the parents realized what would happen when Tidreen’s sensitivity to the Force was exposed, how she would soon belong to the Jedi Order, an order in which she would accept wholeheartedly. She was pragmatic, easy to please, compassionate, and dedicated to the greater good, as well as the inner desire to fill the hole that the Empire had ripped from her. She doesn’t remember the name of her sister, Hiveen, and perhaps it’s better that way.
THERE IS A SCAR in the shape of claws across her face, a close encounter with wildlife when she was seventeen. Her eyes are green, her hair is red, and she always makes the right choice. She takes a keen interest in the history of everything, as if it’s going to answer every question she has about the universe. She is ambitious, and adores adventure, no matter how deadly it could be.
ONCE MS. KILLSPREE had finally picked up a trail on her sister, she took it with little to no hesitation, an action that spiked the trail that the organization had started on her. Once close enough in their trap, Tidreen’s neck was embedded unwillingly with the very tracking device that allowed slight control and manipulation over. After a year, during a training of her padawan, Tidreen was attacked and abducted for weeks. During this absence, the redhead was put through the very same training and submission as her sister, only much worse. They weren’t making an assassin, they were making a weapon, out of her.
THROUGH THESE TRIALS, a friend slid through, seemingly helping her break from the hell and cage – however, the friend took such advantage of Tidreen, forcing her through a shock collar and threats of hurting her family and padawan to do her dark bidding. Tidreen slaughtered through gangs, hoping for freedom and keeping protection among her loved ones. It wasn’t until her friend had commanded she use her newfound ability against innocents that Tid was found and saved. The shock collar was broken off of her neck, and the implant had simply become a part of her, launching an increased protection and excelled self repair on Tidreen.
AMONG THESE ABILITIES, her increased strength in the Force exposed such a power that is something relatable to a resuable bomb, something that pains and drains the Jedi into unconsciousness. Along with her offensive abilities, the Jedi is a highly skilled dual weilding warrior, an acrobatic dancer in combat, trained in blaster use through her time in militarial forces.
VERSES
THE OLD REPUBLIC
( v. of her illumination ) : She is the rays in which illuminate the lives around her. With a monster raging inside her, she became a MARTYR for the Force, for the goodness she believed wholeheartedly in. Jedi ways raised her into a position of leadership, to guide those who she believed in. The Old Republic had granted themselves a JEDI who would fight for the greater good, even if it is to cost her her LIFE. (main.)
( v. i am more than what he does ) : sub. Outlander verse. Follows Jedi Knight storyline.
( v. she trails stardust in her wake ) : sub. The iconic Jedi hero Revan, hidden behind a mask, powerful beyond any sort of recognition. In a past of military success and Force vigor, among it all, in the betrayal against the Jedi, she was not her own head. For the Emperor controlled her mind, using her a puppet to gain a control on the galaxy. She watches, trapped in her own mind, helpless to stop any of the deeds, the slaughtering, the alliances. Among being bombarded with the Jedi Fleet, the Emperor, knowing his failure, escapes her mind, leaving the suffering Tidreen to pay for crimes she did not commit. Her memory was wiped, and she starts over, trying to find just who she is or was. A true living Legend.
( v. something is electric in your blood ) : sub. Jedi Exile verse. As a padawan, Tidreen Killspree, at the ripe age of 19 had been implanted with the power of utter and complete destruction. Among the Mandalorian wars, the young padawan thirsted for the true action of war rather than the discussion and lack of action the Jedi refused to take. She disobeyed, running into the war not truly understanding that power inside of her, being tricked through idolization and simply the right words by Revan to construct as much damage in order to win. On Malachor V, in the heat of the true fight came to being. Frustrated by the casualties, curious as to this power Revan had said she had, she gave very little warning while running into the battle. Shot after shot, she’d scattered into the clusters of enemies, focusing on the destruction ——— unknowing just how STRONG this power was. Expecting only a dent to be made, she’d continued, unable to stop until all of the life on the planet and seemingly disintegrated. By the time Revan’s forces arrived, all that was left were ashes and HER. Unlike many of her Jedi partners, she’d stepped before the Jedi Council once again, trying to explain just what happened, justifying her reasons. And for her wound in the force, they’d severed her connection to her power ——– however, the beast was unsatisfied, and clung to the power that it had kept. Taking up a life handling a blaster and neverending blame for her actions, she’d allowed herself to be exiled, but never truly gave up hope for the Empire’s reign to end. ( atton exclusive with hedeserted. )
GALACTIC REPUBLIC
( v. with liberty comes its price ) : A loyal servant of the Galactic Republic, a fiery spirit would be such a waste to not put to use her combat skillset or her diplomatic rationality. A wondrous teacher raised many younglings once, her own torture ensued in such a bright mind. Alderaanian born beauty used light to guide those she cared for, and she commanded, fought, powered BRAVELY. (prequels.)
THE REBELLION
( v. through the darkness we shall prevail ) : Through such a fight, the Rebellion acquired a fighter, one who stayed in archives as a child, studying the ways of the old, learning of the religions that conquered. Having such training in military tactics, she fights.
.
THE RESISTANCE
( v. the path of chaos to the hopes of harmony ) : Within ranks, an Alderaanian descendant fought through such pain and loss to only end up within the arms of resistance. Order reigns, war rages, and hope is rare — and yet, she continues.
.
MODERN
( v. the galaxies know no night when she smiles ) : Raised from a middle class family, the sun arose through determination and the very dream to politically make her way to helping those in a way only WORDS may. With services dedicated to diplomacy, a body is toned with gymnastic training, a soul is combed and decorated with such a compassion.
ASSASSINS
( v. within those shadows she glows ) : An American Assassin, combed with reason and graced with such SWIFTNESS, under her hood would be the warrior for the very right thing, Goodness flowed in her veins, while the sun pulsed in her chest. ( time eras will adapt accordingly. )
.
OVERWATCH
( v. oh how they shudder at your touch ) : An American sweetheart, raised in a family who raised their respect in their sole surviving daughter, she arose in ranks, fighting for the better good of the people while war raged. Adept in firing all weapons necessary, MAJOR ranked Killspree led an example of optimism, goodness, fairness, and cooperativeness. As high as Icarus rose, she’d fallen, captured in the front lines against will — AND EVERYTHING CHANGED. Tortured, changed, an implant embedded into her brainstem that made her just as dangerous, just as terrible as THEY were —- the Ominics. Unpolished, unfinished, and smarter, after months of the hell they made, to make her like them, make her BETTER — she had run. Broken chains rested in her wake, a shocking tingle in her spine awakening her to the dangers the world offered. Then, hope had found her, frightened, scared, shaking in a newborn awareness that made her faster, stronger, UNSTOPPABLE. Her mind was a deadly machine, and with a blink of an eye, she saw the world as they did. Tiptoing around the line that made her human, Killspree fought, defended, cooperated with the heroes — armed with dual laser swords & shock filled bracers, she was a deadly force all on her own. Once shut down, oh, no — she was too dangerous. She knew too much. A political microphone, she fought for a voice, stayed under heavy watch. Where she would be safe. They would all be safe.
FALLOUT
( v. blessed be the atomic angel ) : A native to the Capitol Wasteland, her story is something of legends. Breaking from her family once of the stable age, her tale begins as a rising rank in the Brotherhood of Steele, seeking to protect the wastelands in the finest way possible. Dug deep into the history of the world before the war, blinded by her desire to go as much good through punishing the evil and taming the wildlife, she was well on her way towards becoming a Paladin. A bright shining star, she dimmed while her signal was lost, her armor stripped, and was presumed dead. Within the mysterious halls of the institute, Tidreen was altered, tested, distorted, and trained, trained to be a bond of human and synth benefits. With upgraded technology embedded in her skin, she absorbs the nuclear radiation in the air, as plentiful and beneficial it is to breathe, to recharge. She runs on it, bathes in it, survives on the distorted world she sought to protect. As she breathes it in, it emits from her, as an aura. She cannot have a home, go back to any family nor friends, stay in any city or settlement too long, in fear of depleting any human civilization rebuilding. She wanders, escaping from coast to coast, hiding in plain sight. They speak of a NUCLEAR ANGEL, a WASTELAND GODDESS, the EVE of the ATOM BOMB. A treat on the eyes, to the mind, a curse in search of any sort of rest.
