Jagaimee
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Posts posted by Jagaimee
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Oh, too late. I was going to suggest you give Tora your stuff before you go. Have fun.
Dang it, I'm ALWAYS too late to ask "Can *I* have your stuff?" Always! Uuugh. One day, I shall be quick enough to ask that before anybody else can. I shall be the beneficiary of the stuff!
Okay, seriously though - really, OP? You quit because of trolls? You...might as well quit the internet, then, because trolls are everywhere. You either learn to deal with them (ignore them, report them, turn off chat, grow a thicker skin), or you retreat to your safe place where nothing can hurt you. :/
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Here is something for the Quinnmancers to chew on. What are the chances/probability of Quinn and the SW having a child or children who are force sensitive like their mother? And if they are how strong would they be?
The reason I ask is that myself and a friend got talking about this very topic the only real difference being it was in regards to my SW and Captain Piett having kids.
So let the speculation commence
Probably pretty high. If the Sith warrior comes from a powerful bloodline (as they keep reminding various NPC's throughout the game), then it's likely they'll pass down that bloodline's heritage to their own kids.
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Tee hee. I really wish they'd change my forum name to Darth Lunafox. *jumps up and down and points* Heeeeey! Eric!!! Darth me, will you?
I loved this. You are awesome. I like you. Come here and sit by me. And Misha and Jenny and J2 and Cloud...all of us. I have tea and snacks. Quinn won't mind if we just...I dunno, stare at him for awhile, would he?
The last bit, dunno if anyone watches Westworld but it made me think of when they show a modern photo to a host. "Doesn't look like anything to me..."
Poor Quinn. He's a host. Here for our pleasure.
*angelic chorus begins playing* I have been accepted into the inner circle by Darth Lunafox... I CAN DIE HAPPY NOW!
Quinn: ...staring. At me.
Yes. You still don't get the concept of fangirls, do you?
Quinn: I understand the concept, but I simply cannot imagine why anyone would want to do so. Or, barring that, be in such a state of insanity as to stare at me. That is highly uncomfortable.
You're handsome.
Quinn: It was bad enough when [fem!warrior] was going googly-eyed, now all of you? And...you said yourself that I am, and I quote, "a bunch of pixels on a screen."
Yes, and you're a HANDSOME bunch of pixels on a screen! ...with an amazing voice (that I can't actually imagine saying "googly-eyed," but whatever)! ...and a character that makes everybody either despise your or adore you. Not your fault. You're written that way.
Quinn: ...you imply that I have no free will.
You're talking to me right now, aren't you?
Quinn: You're typing what I say. I would ask you to stop. ...please.
Aw...
Quinn: *eye twitch* *looks at Darth Lunafox* ...tea would be lovely, my lord.
Pour it for us. *angelic doe-eyed look* We can watch you. Happily. We'll just be sitting here. Staring. Don't mind us.
Quinn: *twitching*
...I broke Quinn.
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It's been a while since I've done the SW story, but I got the impression that Quinn was Baras's man going back all the way since Druckenwell, and Baras planted him quite deliberately with the SW after Balmorra. Now, I don't think Quinn was aware that he was intended as Baras's spy. (So we could be saying the same thing here.) I thought I remembered, (although it's quite possible my brain made this up to fill in the blanks) that Quinn was about to be court-martialed, or maybe even was, but Baras stepped in and gave him a post on Balmorra, basically saving his career. I assume Baras did this on purpose in order to make Quinn feel that he owed a very big debt to him, all with the intention of calling in that favor later on if he ever needed it.
When it became obvious that the SW was still alive after several attempts to kill her, Baras decided to put Quinn into play. I think in the beginning, loyalty to Baras and loyalty to the SW were one and the same for Quinn, and it was only when Baras told him that he wanted Quinn to kill the SW that he realized that he had to choose who to be loyal to.
I wonder if the writers left all this stuff with Quinn deliberately vague, just so we'd spend years discussing it.
Quinn: Yes. That is correct. Baras - I can see it clearly in hindsight now - manipulated me into owing him a favor. As I explained several times to my Lord [the warrior], I did owe him my career. I felt indebted to him. He was a powerful Sith Lord; how could I not?
You don't need to explain yourself, Quinn. We believe you. but please do go on in your flowery outburst of poetry--I mean, defending yourself...just keep talking so we can hear your voice, dangit.
Quinn: As a matter of fact, I--wait, you believe me?
Yeah. We do. Us the fangirls. Remember us?
Quinn: On second thought, you believing me is, perhaps, not helping my case.
Yes, it is! You have a whole army of fangirls toting weapons of Quinn-love to back you up! *pout* I completely fail to see how you fail to see this is a good thing.
Quinn: ...you weaponized love.
Yup.
Quinn: You. Weaponized. Love. Are you all Sith?
Nah, not all of us. Well, most of us. I'm kind of grey. There's Darth Lunafox, though; she's awesome.
Quinn: ...Darth...Lunafox...is she your leader?
Sort of...kinda ish not really I don't know?? We don't really have a leader.
Quinn: So you're not like the Sith; you're like the Killiks. A hivemind. Except you used the personal pronoun "I." *warily pointing pistol*
We're not a hivemind. We're just united in our love for you.
Quinn: "Love" is not burying a man beneath a squealing pile of fangirls. Which, by the way, do not carry fans. I found that out first-hand. So to reiterate, "love" is not burying a man beneath a squealing pile of girls who like to hug - crushingly - and tickle and squee and generally make me go deaf over their exultation.
...are you done yet?
Quinn: And being this obsessive over one man does not seem healthy.
You're a bunch of pixels on a computer screen who happens to look good and you have a nice voice. We are perfectly justified.
Quinn: I'm WHAT!?
Whoops.
*fourth wall detonates*
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Bumping the thread. Please, can this be fixed?
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And voice, why won't that actor be in more things I can watch on netflix?! I find the male agent everywhere and he's great but I need more Quinn voice.
Pretty sure Quinn's voice actor was in a few episodes of Downton Abbey. The...last season, I think...?? I only know of that through IMDB; never watched the show.
But there's that. -
There was a really fun Q&A with Quinn on Tumblr awhile ago. I was trying to find it and got lost in Tumblr land. "F**k Yeah Malavai Quinn" has grown quite a bit and I couldn't find it, but so many other fun things!
Ah, found it!
Oooh, neat. I don't have a Tumblr account (...I'm...honestly not even sure what Tumblr even is - yes, I swear, I'm a teenager/young adult in this day and age!
), but I'm curious about this now... thanks for the link! -
They probably cut Kaliyo slack because she's a romanceable who's a woman. I guess b**bs can invoke a lot of forgiveness.
Y'know... I often do wonder about that. Kaliyo does arguably worse - she not only betrays you but THE ENTIRE EMPIRE because...why? Money. Because she can. It's fun. Etc.
Quinn betrays the warrior because he's under a heck of a lot of pressure, his career and even his life are at risk and he feels like he has no other choice (either go up against one powerful Sith or another powerful Sith, pick your poison)...as has already been detailed extensively earlier in this thread.
And yet Kaliyo's forgiven and Quinn somehow isn't. o_O Is it really because of gender alone? ...that's just sad.
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Yes! Bring it on Jagaimee! Bring on the Quinn <3
Quinn: "Bring on the Quinn?" I object to that...objectification...
Don't know what you're so upset about. You have a bunch of fangirls adoring you. How bad is that?
Quinn: ...fan...girls?
Oi vey, not you.
Quinn: I have no concept of "fan girls." Do girls sit around and wave fans at me?
If you asked us to, we probably would.
Quinn: "Us."
Yes. Us. We are everywhere.
Quinn: *shifty eyes*
We haunt your dreams. Actually, you haunt our dreams.
Quinn: *backing away*
We want you baaaaaaaack.
Quinn: *backing away faster*
Hey, what's the problem? Seriously. We don't bite. We just...smother a bit.
Quinn: I DON'T WANT TO BE SMOTHERED! *fleeing for his life*
TOO BAD! YOU WILL BE! FANGIRL ARMY, MOBILIZE! *epic chase scene*
Might have to make a thread in fanfiction about this.
Quinn Reacts - post a weird situation and Quinn will comment on it.Quinn: Or run screaming from the indignities I shall inevitably be subjected to.
But of course, my dear Malavai. That's part of the fun.
Quinn: *air of long-suffering intensifies*
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Congrats! *pins medal on you* You win the internetz today! THAT was AWESOME!!!!
Mission accomplished.
*ninja-somersaults out of the thread*Quinn: ...what are you doing.
Somersaulting. You should try it sometime. I used to be able to do it easily when I was in gymnastics as a kid, but now it just makes me dizzy...
Quinn: You...still are a kid...
Hey! I am a legal adult!
Quinn: I find that hard to believe, given your...immaturity.
What immaturity!?
Quinn: You sicced a pack of rabid fangirls on me in your last post and implied that it ended in an orbital bombardment of the infection--I mean, "Quinn-love."
....yeah, so?
Quinn: *silent air of long-suffering*
...I get carried away writing things like that.
On a different note, does anyone else occasionally go up to Quinn on the bridge of their ship and click on him a lot to hear his random responses? *raises hand* -
That's allowed. In fact, that's encouraged. (Can you imagine Quinn's reaction to having strange women running up, hugging him and then running off? Priceless)
Female Warrior: So, Quinn, what shall we do today?
Quinn: I believe we--
*random woman runs up, hugs Quinn, then runs off giggling*
Quinn: ............................exCUSE me!?
Female Warrior: ...is there something I should know about...?
Quinn: I have no idea who that was.
*another woman runs up and blows a kiss at Quinn*
Female Warrior: o_O
Quinn: Is the Force itself devising a plot to torment me? Who are these...miscreants? That conduct is highly unbecoming of Imperial citizens--
*two more women run past and blow kisses*
Quinn: *turning a fine shade of dark red* What. Is going. On.
Female Warrior: *shifty-eyed*
*horde of squealing fangirls descend on Quinn*
Quinn: AUGH-- *disappeares beneath said horde of fangirls*
Female Warrior: HEY-- *is shoved off to the side and drowned out by the squealing*
Quinn: *surfaces for air* WHAT IS GOING ON-- *pulled back down*--help me please--*surfaces*--HELP WOULD BE APPRECIATED--*pulled back down*--excuse me that tickles--*surfaces*--COMMENCE ORBITAL STRIKE--*pulled back down*
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...level forty-eight? Whoa. That there's a pretty major bug. You shouldn't be able to start that storyline until level 60. And...honestly, even if you *are* able to start it at level 48... there are two separate warnings that pop up on your screen before you start, explicitly saying "Warning: starting this will lock you out of all previous content including your class story, are you sure you want to continue" or something like that.
Contact customer services and see if there's anything they can do. I don't know how much help they'll be, but this bug has been popping up for a little while...perhaps they can reset it. Good luck!!
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You seem to be missing the point. We're not talking about farming points when you're at / near max level. We're talking about your class story for levels 1-50. You simply do not gain enough light / dark points to rank up from doing your story to trigger the special light / dark options during natural story progression.
You shouldn't have to halt your story progress just to spend hours farming light / dark points. This is not how the class stories are meant to be played and its not how they are played by the majority of people.
Sorry.
I misunderstood; I see the point now. (It was really late at night when I wrote my last post, in my defense. XD) -
You must do a lot of craftin 1-50 O.o
I'm talking about when you first start out with a new story and character with the base game. Making 5,000 points worth of dark side decisions should not make your own toon lecture you about how you stink of lightness.
Literally *everything* you do has light or dark points - crafting, warzones, flashpoint, I'm pretty sure even normal conversations that don't have explicitly light or dark decisions. That includes combat. Kill an enemy, you automatically get light or dark points depending on which side you have toggled on.
The huge amount of points necessary to reach any tier is made up for by the fact that EVERYTHING now has light/dark points attached to it.
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Yes... it's supposed to. It even says on the item description, "This item will remove any hair or Zabrak horns" (or something to that effect).
...at least it did, last time I checked. o_O Has that been changed?
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Thanks for the constructive criticism!
Not everyone is a hard core gamer and doesn't expect to have to play that way when NONE of the missions leading to it require those skills.
I take it I need to play PVP to learn these skills.... geesh.
You don't need to play PVP. You just need to have a very solid grasp of the way your class works - how you can do and take damage. Be smart about it. And if you genuinely can't succeed, try switching to another discipline and do it that way... or, wait, can you invite a friend to help you on missions? I know they won't have their own missions completed by helping you with yours, but they can at least help with the fighting, right? (I'm not sure. o.o)
What class/advanced class are you? Dulfy has a whole list of class guides here: http://dulfy.net/2016/12/22/swtor-5-0-class-guides-master-list/
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I didn't see Quinn, but I'm about 90% certain I heard Andronikus' voice towards the end. Of course, his VA does a lot of characters in SWTOR, so it may be him doing another character.
Probably Bey'wan Aygo, then? Steve Blum also does his voice...
Also, that was an awesome trailer. Purely because of the female warrior. Now if we squint, tilt our heads, and go cross-eyed, we can see Quinn somewhere in the background, screeching righteous indignation about being left out of the trailer.
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Here's Dulfy's list of class guides
http://dulfy.net/2016/12/22/swtor-5-0-class-guides-master-list/
More specifically, here is a sage healer guide
http://dulfy.net/2016/12/28/swtor-5-0-seer-sage-pve-guide-by-dianiss/
And a sorcerer healer guide
http://dulfy.net/2016/12/26/swtor-5-0-corruption-sorcerer-pve-guide-by-seetsu/
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Me too, I've never heard that, do you remember where he says that?
On Yavin IV, in the Imperial Guard training grounds, I believe.
...thirteen years from vanilla to the end of KOTET?? I...wha. I've...always thought it was six or seven years, at the most... Three for the whole vanilla story. Two/two-and-a-half for Makeb, Shadow of Revan, Ziost, beginning of KOTFE. One year for the rest of KOTFE/KOTET (including the time-skip between them). What did I miss. o_o
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Try the Valiant Jedi set? http://torf.mmo-fashion.com/valiant-jedi/ Or at least parts of it. And I'm pretty sure you can dye the cloak and armor parts (on the chest piece at least) to be the same/similar color.
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Im very sorry to reply to this sooo late, but did you ever figure this out? I'm in the tunnels and haven't found ANYTHING that he requires...
You need to turn in a lot of materials (check the quest log for what types) to raise his influence level to 10. Once you do, he'll give you the probes for the rakghoul tunnels. If Lokin's influence level is less than 10, he won't give you the probes for the tunnels.
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@MishaCantu: Thank you!
Seraji has (by now) looooooong since completed her class story (she's part way through KOTFE, actually), but I'm just now going back and writing stories about it... mostly due to Hunsi's interruption. He as a character appeared one day, long after Seraji's story was over and done with, planted himself in these stories, and firmly refused to budge. -_- Oi. Hopefully one day I'll get around to explaining the enigma that is Hunsi...As for Seraji, it's hard to drop hints about her life and experiences without either going overboard and just blurting it all out, OR being *so* vague that it gets annoying. e_e
Prompt: Life or Death; Turning Points
Character: Seraji
Spoilers: Bounty hunter's prologue on Hutta
Note: Seems this piece of music -
- is highly appropriate for this story...There was a spring in her step that hadn’t been there for a while now. Seraji bit the inside of her lip in happy anticipation as she headed down the back corridors of the cantina. The smell of spice and smoke and alcohol and drunk aliens didn’t bother her so much now; it wasn’t that she’d gotten used to it, so much as she had learned to filter it out of her mind. Just ignore it.
Well, mostly. There were some scents she couldn’t ignore. Like the acrid smell of blaster discharge. Seraji shook her head. Someone had had a shootout, and she hadn’t been there to see it. Too bad. She would have wanted to know the outcome: if there were such crimes punishable by police here…or whatever passed for police…or if anybody would be punished. Who knew, maybe shootouts were as common as—
…breathing…hold on a minute.
Smoke was wafting out of the room Braden used as headquarters. Smoke, and the sting of blaster discharges.
Seraji’s heart crashed against her throat in sudden fright.
She crouched low on instinct, moving as quietly as she knew how with her armor. A hunter, a predator, like Hunsi had taught her. Her ears perked up, struggling to catch any sound, but there were none save a very faint sizzling noise. And even that might not have come from that room, but from the cantina nearby. Discordant music was still thumping out from the lower levels.
Seraji closed her eyes and concentrated hard, all her senses straining towards the room, slowly filtering out any other sound, or smell, or taste.
She couldn’t feel Jory’s heartbeat – he was a Nikto, large heart, and easily excited besides. Usually his heartbeat was stirring her ear fur all the time when she so much as stood in the same room as he.
She couldn’t scent Braden’s warm, comforting smell, or Hunsi’s air of cold alertness. Or Jory, again – but she could scent the wine he usually kept nearby. Still fresh, because it had a sweet tang to it that soured quickly once opened.
She couldn’t hear anyone moving about, or talking. No footsteps, no swish of fabric against metal, no clink of armor, no squeak of leather.
Seraji opened her eyes and her hand fiddled about on her blaster’s grip. She crept forward until she was at the threshold of the door, heart pounding – oh stars don’t let anything have happened to them; she was vaguely surprised she cared – and then she threw herself around the door frame, blaster out and pointing at anything that…
At…at anything…that might…
…challenge…her…
Oh stars.
Burned holes dotted the walls and ceiling and floors, smoke still twisting up from them. The furniture was pockmarked with bolt holes, some chairs overturned, the couch on its back.
Jory’s limp body was sprawled across the table he normally sat at, head turned to the side – his eyes were still open, but they were too still, the pupils not reacting to any change in light, his expression frozen in shock and fear.
Braden was on the floor, face down, arms wrapped around too many wounds on his stomach and chest.
Hunsi was sitting slumped against the wall, eyes closed, his longcoat spotted with still-shining blaster wounds – one hand still gripped his pistol, the barrel still glowing as though he’d fired off one last shot before his death.
Seraji’s own pistol hit the floor. Her hands were shaking too badly to hold anything. Her knees went limp and she wobbled down to the ground, legs tucked underneath her, as she stared in horror at the dead bodies of her team. Her…her allies. Friends.
…family.
“No…no no no…” It took her a moment to realize those were her words, whispering from a throat tight in grief. “No, dear stars, no…” Not Braden. Jory. Hunsi.
How…? …who?
Grief began to give way to a boiling in her veins, a pounding red haze in the back of her head. Her fists clenched, spasming with the shock and adrenaline bursting through her nerves. Whoever did this would pay dearly.
“Braden! Hey, I’m back!”
The chirpy voice sent a jolt through Seraji as effective as any lightning bolt. Her nerves simply overloaded and she twitched around, losing her balance and awkwardly catching herself with one elbow on the ground. “Ma—“ Her voice cracked. “Mako,” she tried again. “Mako, d-don’t come in here…”
“What? Why not?” Mako appeared at the doorway. “What’s so—what thhh…” The human girl’s eyes went wide, and her dark face paled. Seraji had learned to recognize that as a sign of horror or shock or fear. All three, maybe. “Wh…Braden…?” Mako cautiously moved into the room, eyes on her fallen mentor. Seraji numbly scrambled out of her way, clinging to the wall to help her get her balance back. “Braden,” Mako said again, in a voice broken with tears. “Braden…no…”
The human girl ran to the old Mandalorian and frantically shook his shoulders. “Braden!” she half-sobbed, half-yelled. “Braden! Wake up! Please, please wake up! No…” Her words gave way to full-on crying. Then, abruptly, she looked up at Seraji. Her eyes were wet but fury shone through them. “Did you do this?” she hissed. “Who did this!?”
“Did—“ Seraji instinctively bared her teeth. “No! Why would I do this!? I just—I just found them all here…just a few minutes ago. The—the wounds, they’re still fresh – this happened right before I got here…” She struggled to her feet. Her legs were still wobbly, and her stomach was still clenching uncomfortably, but she made her way – slowly but steadily – to Hunsi’s body. The chiss’s face…there was a single tear pooling in the corner of his eye. “Hunsi,” Seraji whispered. Her heart felt like it hit the floor. “You tried to protect them, didn’t you…”
She reached up to wipe away the tear – and as she touched the chiss’s face, she realized, he was still warm. Seraji’s ears perked up. She could still faintly hear his heartbeat – or was that the music bleeding in from below? Seraji leaned closer. No. It was Hunsi’s heartbeat. “Mako – Hunsi’s alive!”
“Wha…?”
Seraji cautiously tapped the chiss’s shoulder, careful not to jostle his extensive wounds. “Hunsi? Hunsi! Wake up!”
Hunsi’s eyelids fluttered. A brief gleam of ruby red shone out from underneath his eyelids, then just as quickly disappeared. But even something brief was better than nothing. “Mako, where’s a medic?”
“Th…” Mako took a shaky breath, stirring the too-still air in the room. “Nem’ro’s palace, p-probably…”
Seraji pushed off of the ground and shot out through the door, arms pumping, willing herself to go as fast as she could, focusing everything on where she was going. She burst out of the cantina and pounded down the boardwalk to Nem’ro’s palace. Hunsi had saved Mako’s life once; now Seraji could save his.
--*--*--*--
Seraji found Mako on the roof of the cantina. The human girl had shown her, a few days before, how to get up there without alerting anyone else to their presence. It was…nice, up there. They could be free of the obnoxious music from the lower levels, free of the smoke and smells, free of anyone bothering them. There was the general stench of Nal Hutta itself, but that was tolerable up here. It was a nice view, too; for what counted as “nice” on Nal Hutta. It overlooked the forested copse of trees and the distant swamps. From here, one could see the sunset.
Right now, the sun was setting on Nal Hutta, disappearing behind the “glorious jewel,” Nar Shaddaa.
Mako was sitting down, watching the last rays vanish over the light-flecked world ahead of them. “Hunsi?” she asked, voice still wavering from hours before.
Apparently she’d heard Seraji… then again, it wasn’t easy to move quietly on a metal surface. “The medics say he’s still in danger,” Seraji reported. She carefully sat down beside Mako and looked over at the girl. Her face was wet with tears that hadn’t yet dried – and her eyes were still fluttering. Her nose was red. She’d been crying for a long time. Seraji’s shoulders slumped. “Did…did you find anything about who did this?”
Mako nodded jerkily, swallowing hard. She scoffed in quivering anger. “Yeah. The…here.” She held up a portable holocomm. “I—I downloaded the security camera footage on here…then I destroyed it in the old room.” She sniffed. “Not going to be needing it anymore…” A distant sleen bellowed a call as Mako fiddled with the holocomm.
The device lit up. There was an overhead view of Braden pacing about the room, Jory sitting at his table, and Hunsi leaning against the wall. “…think they’ll be okay?” Braden asked.
Jory laughed as he opened a bottle of wine. “<Boss, you worry too much. Mako can take care of herself. And Seraji’s a born hunter, you know tha—hey!>”
The side of the holocomm flickered, and three people marched into view. Hunsi had his pistol out and aimed in an instant. Two of the people aimed rifles right back at him. The third merely folded his arms. Seraji studied his image. A human man, tousled blonde hair, was that makeup on his face?...and wearing gleaming Mandalorian armor, too shiny and new to have seen any real danger. Seraji felt her lips peel back from her teeth in a reflexive snarl. “Braden. Still hoping to win the Great Hunt? With…what, these rejects?” His voice was alarmingly deep for a man who looked that girly.
“These ‘rejects,’” Braden said grimly, “are going to doing a hell of a lot better than you will, Tarro Blood. Are you trying to win again?” The old man shook his head. “Your dishonorable ways and cultural posturing got you disqualified once. For your sake, let’s hope it doesn’t happen again.”
“Oh, it won’t.” Tarro Blood laughed. Seraji had heard spice-addled Hutts with better laughs than that. “At least, not that you’ll know of.” He motioned to his guards.
One fired at Hunsi – who was already firing back, dodging and twisting to the side. Jory died instantly in the other guard’s stream of fire. Braden was two seconds too slow in retrieving his blaster. He caught most of the blaster bolts and stumbled back to the table, eyes going wide briefly then slowly closing as he slumped to the floor.
Somewhere past the low buzzing in her ears, Seraji heard an enraged scream. Like an animal that’s been hurt…or maybe like a mother bear seeing one of her cubs be killed. Hunsi barreled toward the guards, shrieking in a language Seraji had never heard. The chiss’s face contorted in rage. Seraji blinked away from the sheer fury, as though it were a physical force pouring out of the recording.
Tarro Blood backed away, and his two guards poured streams of bolts at Hunsi. The chiss staggered back, his own pistol still blazing, but his shots were going wide now. Seraji saw something splatter the wall behind him and she cringed. No wonder the chiss was still in critical condition… Hunsi slid down the wall. One of the guards aimed his rifle, but Tarro Blood held up a hand. “No need. Even if he lives – and I doubt it – he’ll be out of the running, possibly forever.” Blood smirked. “Too bad we didn’t get your precious slicer prodigy,” he mocked Braden’s dead body. Seraji’s hackles bristled. “Or the little runt-of-the-litter who calls herself a hunter. We will, don’t worry. You’ll all be together again in the Manda, how sweet.” With another wave of his hand, Tarro Blood swept out of the room, followed by his lackeys.
The recording kept going, showing nothing but the still room. Hunsi didn’t move an inch. Nothing moved. Then, barely a minute later, Seraji herself whirled into the room, pistol pointing frantically at any phantom threats, wavering and then stopping entirely when she saw the bodies…
Mako clicked off the holocomm.
Seraji stared at the silent device. The images replayed over and over in her mind. Tarro Blood, a Mandalorian. His guards were the ones to actually do the deed, but he’d ordered Braden’s death…Jory’s death…Hunsi’s death. A Mandalorian. Those…rotten…spineless…mass-murdering despicable sons of…of… Seraji couldn’t think of a curse strong enough to describe them.
“There goes the Great Hunt,” Mako said softly. Seraji glanced up to see the girl staring off at the glittering planet above them. The fading sunlight glinted off of the metal structures deep out into the swamps of Nal Hutta – glinted one last time and then died. “The Great Hunt…Braden’s dream…any chance we had of getting off this rock…” Mako’s head drooped. “Seraji,” she whispered, “I barely even have the credits to feed just ourselves for the next few days – never mind paying for Hunsi’s recovery, if he lives…”
Hunsi. His words, days before, came back to Seraji.
“Don’t. Give. Up.”
“Then we get that sponsorship.” Seraji surprised herself with the strength behind her words. She immediately regretted saying that, but there was no going back now. Getting the sponsorship, how? It was just her and Mako now, no Braden to gently guide them, no Jory to manage their pitiful accounts and keep them in high spirits with all his lame jokes, no Hunsi to watch over them and offer advice. Just two young women in one of the worst places in the galaxy.
Mako raised her head, strands of black hair splashing down over her face, as she blinked quizzically at Seraji.
“If Nem’ro sponsors us,” Seraji went on, trying to reason through her brash statement, “then…then we at least get transport off of Nal Hutta. We get entry into the Great Hunt. That means credits. Credits we can use to—to keep us going and to help Hunsi…and…umm…uh, you still have those targets on this planet, right?”
Mako nodded. “Yeah.”
“Then we’ll get on those. Tomorrow morning. After we – we bury Braden and Jory. We keep going.” Seraji looked straight into Mako’s eye, hoping desperately that she could keep up a façade of confidence. “We keep going, because Braden and Jory would want us to, because Hunsi’s counting on us – because we don’t have any other options. We just…just keep going.”
Mako’s expression didn’t change, but there was a tiny gleam in her eye. A silent okay, Seraji. I trust you.
The last of the sunlight silently flickered away.
Edit: Procrastinating on schoolwork does wonders for writing.
Now, back to grammar lessons.Prompt: Goodbye
Character: Seraji
The next day, following the above story, so the same spoiler warning still applies.
Nobody should have to be buried on Nal Hutta. It was too humiliating. Seraji patted dirt down over Jory’s coffin. It was a crude thing – they both were, just boxes, really, but it was all she and Mako could find. Seraji hated that. Even her brother, an alien servant in the heart of the Empire, had gotten a more honorable funeral than this. Being buried on Hutta was too degrading even – or especially – for a Mandalorian.
Mako straightened up from the other coffin – Braden’s grave. “I think it’s done…” Her voice was low and still heavy with tears.
Seraji sat up. The space they had chosen to bury Jory and Braden in wasn’t any prettier than the rest of Hutta – but it was isolated, and it was high enough above the swamplands that the ground was dry. It was the best they could do. “Do Mandos have funeral rites or songs or something?”
“Thought you hated Mandalorians.”
“I…” Seraji rolled her shoulders back, ostensibly to get a knot out of them, but in reality more to disguise her discomfort. “…yeah,” she finally said. “I—I do. But…Braden was…different? He…wasn’t like other Mandos. They’d tell me they’re sorry they didn’t completely wipe out the cathar three hundred years ago. Braden…didn’t, he just…he…he…” Was normal. Was kind, even. Treated her like she was a person, not a scraggly undergrown furball, not a moving target practice, not a thing. “And he was your mentor, too,” she added, awkwardly stumbling over her words. “But he didn’t try and…and—do whatever Mandos do with their kids, brainwash them or…I—I don’t know.” She shook her head, suddenly frustrated. “I don’t know. He was just different.”
Mako was silent. Seraji looked over to see the other girl standing silhouetted against the rising sun. Her head was down, though – still looking at Braden’s rough grave. The swamplands beyond were silent still; the day hadn’t warmed up enough to wake the sleens, or rouse the akk dogs from their dens. Soon there would be a chorus of animal noises, but for now it was silent. There was just Mako, all alone on the hilltop, Nar Shaddaa’s glittering veil slowly fading behind her, and the sickly trees wavering in a weak breeze.
All alone.
Seraji slowly rose to her feet. No, not alone. Not anymore. Cautiously, careful of the freshly disturbed dirt that marked Jory and Braden’s graves, Seraji made her way over to Mako’s side. “We can do this,” she said quietly. She hoped she could back up her words.
“And hope Jory and Braden are proud,” Mako whispered. Seraji saw tears gathering in her eyes again.
Seraji didn’t know what to do. Didn’t people usually hug each other at times like these? She…didn’t really want to hug Mako. So she finally settled for hesitantly putting a hand on Mako’s shoulder. Was that too weird? If anyone did that to Seraji, she’d think it was her father about to backhand her again – a false show of comfort just to mess with her. But other people didn’t have fathers like that, and she’d seen Braden put his hand on Mako’s shoulder and Mako didn’t seem to mind, so…
Mako barely noticed.
They stood there for a long time, watching the mudflies emerge with the rising sun from their hiding places under decaying pieces of grass, buzzing over the graves, and moving on. Hearing the swamplands wake up – a sleen gave a hoarse call, and an akk dog bellowed a snarl in response. Jiguuna, behind them, was slowly beginning to bustle with the usual activity. A ship’s engines coughed to life, then died.
Seraji realized Mako was saying something under her breath; a halting, stuttering phrase: “…nur kyr—kyr’adyc, shi…taab’echaa…aa’jla…” Her voice broke with tears again. Seraji recognized a few scattered syllables as Mando’a, but she didn’t dare ask what they meant. That was between Mako and Braden's spirit—
Mako abruptly hugged Seraji, resting her head on the smaller girl’s shoulder, shaking with silent sobs.
Seraji just stood there. Arms out to the side. Blinking.
Then, eventually – slowly, unsure, moving with stuttering motions – she hugged Mako back.
Mando'a translation:
"Nur kyr’adyc, shi taab’echaaj’la" is a traditional Mando'a phrase for someone who is dead. It means "not gone, merely marching far away."
-
@YoshiRaphElan: Corso and a female smuggler are always great.
Kybucks are...scary. In-game, zoom in with the camera until you're staring right at their eyes. Their...yellow...glaring... demon eyes... o_o (My sith marauder keeps one around just so he can creep out his friend.
)Anyway! The ending, specifically this part, is awesome:
That gave her an idea, though.
She took her hat and hurled it into the air. Then, she rolled out of cover. The hat distracted the mercs for a split second. She fired two shots into the chest of the right-most merc and he dropped. Corso took out the other mercenary, leaving only the leader behind.
"Give it up!" Reela shouted. "Drop it, drop it!"
He kept his blaster steadily trained on her. Corso's rifle didn't waver a centimeter. Reela waved him down with her offhand. She faced the mercenary leader and narrowed her eyes coolly.
"I guess we'll just see who's a faster shot," she said.
"Guess so," the merc rumbled.
In the tense silence that followed, Reela kept her finger pressed over the trigger...but didn't squeeze. Yet. She intended to prove she was the fastest shot on the Rim. Maybe it was some trace of the Force that her sister had, or maybe it was years of instinct, but Reela could see the merc's finger tighten ever so slightly.
She fired. The merc's shot went wide, over her left shoulder. Her shot didn't miss.
Classic smuggler. Wonderful writing, too.
@Venn_Dras: Okay...this part, I absolutely melted.
Even as I could tell that the change was growing ever closer, that he was beginning to lose parts of himself within the beast. He and I both knew that the end was coming. Eventually he told me that I needed to go, using the excuse that I couldn't leave our job unfinished. It would ruin the reputation he had so painstakingly built.
That's the last time I ever cried.
He joked that he never thought I'd be so sentimental. That it ruined my snarky, smart assed reputation. But his calloused hands still wiped those tears away with a gentle touch and a grin that still lit up his face; despite the excruciating pain he must have been in.
That's an image I'll hold with me til the day my own journey ends.
I love Corso, I'll probably never say it, but I do. I've never met anyone more stubbornly set in their convictions about black and white, right and wrong. His innocence and honesty in matters of the heart is both sweet and frustrating to say the least. Some how without my noticing it, he whittled a hole into my heart and just as easily sealed it up behind him.
That's why I will stay by his side through all the the whispers, the looks, the pain and the nightmares. He once asked me why I never thought about settling down, and I told him the truth that day. From the day that smuggler died, I relied on myself and me alone. My ship was my home and a part of it always will be, though he's now taken that place for his own.
That was beautiful. You have a way with words that's just amazing.
...excuse me, there seem to be invisible ninjas in the room cutting unions under my nose... I--I'm not crying. Nope. No. Why do you ask. >_>
Prompt: Confessions. Ish. Is there a prompt for "two girls yakking about backstory?"
Character: Seraji, bounty hunter (again...)
Spoilers: Mako talking about how she met Braden.
“How do you know them?”
Mako looked up from her datapad. “Hm?” The light from the screen glinted off of her cybernetic implant.
Seraji rolled over onto her stomach, muscles protesting every movement. Despite her soreness and the late hour, she wasn’t tired yet. Besides, she was curious. “Braden, Jory, Hunsi… how do you know them?”
“Oh. Ah… pretty much the same way you met them?”
“You tried to shoot Braden and Hunsi scared the crap out of you with a few simple words?”
“O…kay, well, maybe not.” Mako giggled. She had a nice laugh. It wasn’t annoying like Dromund Kaas socialites, all high-pitched and breathy; laughing for the sake of laughing, aren’t-I-cute, sounding like a little girl. “I met Braden when I got on the wrong side of a gang on Nar Shaddaa. Left me bleeding in an alley.” Mako rolled one shoulder back. “Braden found me and took me in. He’s…kind of like my father.”
Seraji remembered her own father. “But Braden’s kind,” she said without thinking.
…silence.
Seraji looked up to see Mako staring at her with a very odd expression. “Never mind,” Seraji mumbled. “What about Jory and Hunsi?”
“Jory came with Braden. Sort of. He’s just always…been there, in the background.” Mako swung her legs up to her own bed and lay flat on her back, putting the datapad down by the side of the bed. “And Hunsi…I kind of got in over my head one time. Some thugs tried to rob me. I fought off a few, but there were just way too many – and then Hunsi was there. Blitzed in, flattened the gang and left them all unconscious, then just…asked if I was okay, I said yes, and he walked away. Braden later got in touch with him.” The dim light filtering through the window blinds illuminated Mako’s puzzled frown. “I kept wondering how Braden knew who Hunsi was – I just said he was a chiss with scars over his eye – and then Hunsi shows up again at Braden’s request. Weird.”
Something about that story was bothering Seraji… the bed creaked as she settled onto her side, and she once again hoped this rickety old cot wasn’t about to collapse underneath her. Or squeak so much in the middle of the night that she and Mako wouldn’t be able to sleep. It was weird sleeping in the same room as someone else again. At least she had her own bed this time, and Mako wasn’t a holy terror like her sister had been. “Wait…Hunsi left the gang unconscious? He didn’t kill them?”
“Nope. Just punched them into oblivion. I was surprised, too.”
“Huh,” Seraji muttered. A few strands of hair settled onto her ear, which instinctively flicked to get the ticklish feeling off. “Would’ve thought Hunsi would’ve just…blasted them all.” Maybe that had been what he was talking about. “Mad at other people – you lose control. You see red. You wake up from that, realize people are dead. Don’t ever do that.” Seraji felt morbidly curious how Hunsi had come to that conclusion.
“What about you?”
Seraji looked over to see Mako sitting up in her bed, rearranging the covers so she could crawl underneath. “I mean, Braden said you tried to kill him and was more of a danger to yourself than him. He wouldn’t say anything more.” Mako glanced at her. “Normally, I’d avoid you like the rakghoul plague. But Braden seemed pretty okay with it. So…what happened?”
Seraji winced. Her first instinct was to snap none of your business…but she thought better of it. She didn’t want to alienate Mako. And besides, the whole thing happened two years ago. She was better at hunting now, but it still made her skin grow warm and her hackles fluff up. She forcibly smoothed them down and reluctantly started talking: “A Hutt wanted Braden dead because…it was a Hutt. Who knows why. Nobody else would take the contract. I did, because I needed the money. I couldn’t figure out why everybody was either laughing at me or offering to pray to whatever gods they worshiped for my safety. Marched out of there declaring I’d bring Braden back in a coffin. I found him easy enough – he was in the nearby spaceport – and…and I found out I’m a lousy shot with a rifle…missed by a mile when I was standing twenty feet away, made a lot of noise, and Braden shot me without even looking.”
“He did what!”
“Then he saw I was a kid and panicked a little. Or a lot. He got me bandaged up – it wasn’t a bad injury – and then taught me how to shoot a sniper rifle. And then he taught me how to make that Hutt’s life a living hell for a while as payback.”
Mako gave a laugh – a rather incredulous sounding laugh. Seraji smiled at the sound. Mako was laughing at her story, not at her. “That’s…well, that’s Braden,” Mako said. “And that whole story’s so downright bizarre that, if not for you just telling me, I’d say it happened in fiction somewhere.”
“Aw, come on…” Seraji pulled the covers over her. “Good night, Mako.”
But even as she turned over, away from Mako and her innocent laughter…she was still smiling.
-
Yes; it was mentioned in the livestream - but only (I think) if you choose the Republic. I said "I think" because I'm not sure, exactly, if Jace (or Acina) will show up even if you don't choose their respective sides.
Choose the Empire: Malavai Quinn and Darth Acina return (Quinn as a companion, Acina as an NPC)
Choose the Republic: Elara Dorne and Jace Malcom return (Elara as a companion, Jace as an NPC)
*ninja-somersaults out of the thread*
I misunderstood; I see the point now. (It was really late at night when I wrote my last post, in my defense. XD)
Now, back to grammar lessons.
Thanks for Malavai Quinn. <3 <3 <3 This is a love thread, haters make your own lol.
in General Discussion
Posted · Edited by Jagaimee
Sith Purebloods are left-handed!
...well, most of them. Like how most of the human population of today is right-handed, with a small percentage being lefties. It's reversed for Purebloods: most of their population is left-handed, with a small percentage being right-handed.
Aaaaaand that is your fun fact of the day.
Edit: ...ralei. No. Bad. We don't SPEAK of those things. No no no no no no. THEY DO NOT EXIST. >_< (Kidding, of course... I'd really like to know what George Lucas was thinking when he came up with that brilliant ide...a...nope, can't even type that with a straight face. Oi. *facepalm*)