#&& unknown and unloving; eadric claermoore

[kyberled]

There’s something rotten in the House of Claermoore...

Admiral Eadric A. Claermoore | Karvan Nel | Padawan Braig of the Order | Dr. Shiv K. Welan

[kyberled]

Send me ‘Dad’+ A Question and my muses Father will answer it || ACCEPTING

Anonymous asked:

Dad + Opens a window over Eadric’s head and drops a water balloon. What’s in it? Not water. :) 

He just screams. It’s as wordless as it is furious. The nearest trooper damn well jumped out of his skin before turning on his heel to leave. He’s either decided he doesn’t get paid enough to deal with whatever’s going on in there, or he’s off to find a cleaning droid.

After all, ink that dark is REALLY going to stain.

[kyberled]

SEND  ♂️ + A QUESTION TO ASK BRAIG’S FATHER THE ADMIRAL || ACCEPTING

Anonymous asked:

♂️ - Admiral! I’m so glad I found you. I have something for you. It’s imperative that you take it immediately. (It is most definitely not a handful of spiders. Who would even do that?)

“What is it?” The urgency in the question has him turning quickly, completely disregarding the conversation he’d been in moments ago. (It was only one of those factory-made units that called itself a soldier, anyway. Hardly as though he were addressing an officer of equal standing.) 

It’s a mix of drilled-in etiquette and in-the-moment instinct that has him holding his hand out to accept the–

He springs back with a very undignified sound. Spiders go everywhere. 

They’re just… Everywhere. 

There are so many spiders. 

How did you fit so many in your hand in the first place? 

It’s quite impressive.

Maybe while the good Admiral is shouting at the trooper to remove you from the premises and attempting to swat off all the spiders (there are so many) you could consider writing a how-to about spider holding. It would probably fly off the shelves.

Unlike the spiders, who are not flying off of anything. 

They’re notoriously sticky.

And they’re everywhere.

[kyberled]

send me  ‘ hc ‘  + a word and i’ll write a headcanon about it regarding my character. || ACCEPTING

Anonymous asked:

Hc + Parents

Braig doesn’t know his biological parents. It’s probably best that he never does. He’s much better off with the Jedi. I’ll talk a bit about his biological father, his biological mother, and then some of his thoughts on the situation.

His biological father, Eadric Alden Claermoore, is a General in the Grand Army of the Republic, a rank he carried over from a lifetime spent in the Republic’s Navy. He made that rank his life after everything else fell away. The Claermoores were a military family. They always were. This goes all the way back to the Ruusan Reformations, but carried on in various ways since then. Government positions, naval positions, and now back in the Grand Army. Yes, it’s the naval branch; no, he’s not Force-sensitive. He is, however, exactly the sort of awful person you’d expect from someone who defines himself by his rank and his wealth and only barely - if ever - acknowledges the nepotism that went into it. 

He never wanted children. He figured he’d have to have one eventually, to carry on the name and all, but he never wanted one. Like most other things, it felt like a duty. An obligation, rather than a privilege. He was that sort of person. He also wasn’t too concerned about it, as his younger sister, Adarine, had children, but first-born this and patriarch-that and blah blah blah. ‘You know how it is’. Most people who know him thinks the war might be the only thing he ever loved, as it reaffirmed his status. That’s not entirely true. He loved his (ex) wife. Shiv brought out the best in him, people would say. Most who knew him had never seen him relax, let alone smile, until she came around. Shiv wanted kids. He agreed on one. He figured that was a good enough compromise. He also figured he wouldn’t necessarily have to be that involved with the more ‘difficult’ parts of parenting. Read: The actual parenting part. He figured he’d pick up extra duties to make up for the ‘loss of income’ (as if he needed it) while Shiv stayed home with their baby. 

It probably could’ve worked out, if their kid wasn't born Force-sensitive. But he was. So, of course, the Jedi took interest. Shiv said no, Eadric said yes. The Jedi figured they’d just keep an eye on them and try to educate the new parents on what the Force meant for their son. Just so they could fully think over their options and decide what was best. Then Shiv went to provide aid to a planet in the Outer Rim. When she didn’t come back, she was declared KIA. Eadric, quite rightly, decided he can’t raise a child by himself. Yes, he could have asked family or friends to help. Yes,he could have left the baby with the nanny droid he owned that was already looking after it. He could have. 

He didn’t. 

In his defense, he was trying to think of the long-term consequences. Nanny droids don’t work forever. And the boy was Force-sensitive; he needed to be trained by people who know what they’re doing. And, logically, he’s right. The Force is too dangerous - and draws too many dangerous people - for a lack of training to be even remotely safe. And - not that Eadric cares anymore - Braig is legitimately happy with the Jedi. So it really is the best choice. Of course, Braig was actually far too young to be given to the Order at the time. From what I can tell, kids are usually passed on to the Jedi at over a year, maybe even three. Braig wasn’t yet a year old. The young knight who’d been sent to do a wellness check/update hadn’t been prepared to take a baby. Eadric, in essence, handed him Braig and then locked the door and went back to work. He considered it like ripping off a bandage. The Jedi saw this as a cause to Not Panic, But Get Very Concerned At A Rather Fast Pace. He eventually just figured he had no choice but to take the baby back to the Temple and ask for advice. 

When Shiv showed up, not dead and very mad about why her baby was gone, things went sour fast. To make a long story short, they’re divorced now, and he hasn’t seen her in over a decade. He tried to explain his thought process to her. Tried to make a case for himself, and why this was best. She didn’t agree. It was a nasty argument. Eadric never really got over it. He never really got over her. Over the years, his understanding of the situation shifted from ‘this never would have happened if I’d kept our child from the Jedi’ to ‘this never would have happened if he hadn’t been born Force sensitive’ to ‘this never would have happened if he hadn’t been born’. Eadric lives alone now in the fancy surface-level Coruscant residence that’s run in the family for generations. The sort of place money can technically buy, but you won’t ever have enough money. He exists as living proof to the old adage, ‘wealth cannot buy happiness’. He’s a bitter, angry old man who’s devoted himself to the militaristic ideals that the Claremoores have lived by - regardless of who calls the shots. When the Republic becomes the Empire, he stays as an Imperial officer. He doesn’t see a problem with it. The strong prevail.

End of discussion. 

Then there’s Braig’s mother. Dr. Shiv Kiera Whelan is not a product of money and breeding, like her ex husband was. She’d come from the mid-levels of Coruscant. Not the glitterati, but high enough in the city to see what she might one day be able to achieve. Her family was loving and close, even if they were stretched thin financially. She was a middle child. She had an older brother named Cor, an adopted sibling the same age as her named Shina (shee-nah), and two younger sisters named Reni and Tel. They lived in a somewhat cramped apartment with their parents (Braig’s grandparents), Olan and Ama Whelan. They worked in factories across the street from each other, and met by chance - their love story bloomed over the course of many shared lunch breaks and continued throughout their marriage. Theirs was a hard life, and they did what they could to give their children better, while still making sure they knew the truths of the world. Shiv was the first of her siblings to attend higher education. She decided on medicine when she was young; you see a lot of need for it in the mid to lower levels. It’s what she felt was her calling. So she studied hard, saved up, worked herself to the bone. Loans and scholarships became her best friend (aside from her siblings). 

On a planet of trillions, medical care is always in high demand. Shiv took to it like a duck to water, finding her place among medical droids and scanners and sutures as if she’d always been there. She expanded her horizons by not only taking what her colleagues often deemed ‘charity cases’, but also offering medical aid off-world to military operations. That’s how she met her future (ex) husband, actually. A naval scrape that went badly but could have gone worse. His family opposed the marriage, hers didn’t care as long as they were happy. And, for a while, they were happy. It could have worked out great. They’d discussed kids, come to their agreement, and Shiv was excited to be a mother. She’d always liked kids, and they were well off enough that she could take some time off to be at home with the baby, and have nurse droids to help. It would be simple. 

It should have been simple. 

If it was, we wouldn’t be here. Shiv is like her son in more than looks; his self-sacrificing tendencies are both nature and nurture. People needed help. A skirmish between warring factions in the Outer Rim, it happened all the time. Shiv had plenty of experience doing field work on planets where that was often the best they got, and, much as she loved her baby, she’d gotten a bit stir crazy. It’d be fine, she’d go out for a week or two, give people some help, stretch her legs, and come back before the nurse droids even needed to be recharged. Unfortunately, bad intel comes for us all, eventually. It wasn’t just a skirmish between local factions. It was a fight between spice cartels. Nobody was entirely sure which cartels, once the dust settled. Some said the Black Sun, some said the Pikes. All reports said the medic camp was wiped out. Shiv along with it. 

Now, of course, Shiv wasn’t dead. She was in very bad shape, yes, but not dead. She got lucky. See, when you get a reputation for giving help to those who can’t afford it, they remember. A lot of those people gather at the Outer Rim, and a lot of people talk. A doctor that helps anyone, regardless of credits, is a good thing to have around, so Shiv got rescued by some of the ‘charity cases’ she’d taken over her life. It was a while before she was fully lucid, a while later that she was able to make contact and get back to Coruscant. By the time she got there, her son was gone. 

The real tragedy is that, if given enough time, she probably would have agreed to it, herself. Given time to think it over, given more conversations with the Jedi to learn more about them, about what the Force meant for her son, given the extra years she was supposed to have to come to terms, she probably would’ve agreed that the proper training was necessary for him. She didn’t get any of that. 

She just came home and he was gone. 

As you can imagine, this led to a terrible argument between herself and her husband. Eadric tried to justify his decision by saying he thought she was dead, and, either way, he’d been looking out for their son’s best interest. He was where he should be. Shiv, who was already dealing with one major trauma and frankly didn’t have time for another, was furious that he’d given her baby to ‘a cult’ (despite the Jedi not being anything of the sort). 

If you were to talk to Shiv now, she’d tell you she was divorced, though there was never any formal proceedings; Eadric just doesn’t talk about his personal life. Whereas Eadric will tell you he never had any children if you ask, Shiv will talk about who she hoped her son would be, and the injustices that face him now in the life he must live. Their opinions have grown to differ so much that they’re on different sides of the war, as well. Eadric stayed loyal to the Republic, and continues to serve the Grand Army. Shiv felt as though the loss of her son opened her eyes to the Republic’s corruption, and as such, she’s since offered her allegiance and her medical prowess to the Separatists. She hasn’t been to Coruscant in years, and the two of them - Eadric and Shiv - haven’t had any contact with each other in even longer. 

It should go without saying that Braig doesn’t know his biological parents. He doesn’t particularly want to, either. He knows, from records, where he’s from, and he also knows he came to the Temple far younger than he should have. As far as he’s concerned, there are a few potential reasons for this:

The first is that his parents were unable to care for a child. Given that he knows they were from the upper levels, and ergo well-off, he finds this unlikely. The second is that something happened to them, they had no relatives able to seize custody, and the Jedi took him in rather than having him float around the system for a few years. This is unlikely, as the Jedi keep tabs on prospective families, but it’s possible, and, if it is the case, it’s not worth looking into. And the last option he could think of is that they just didn’t want a kid, and again, that doesn’t merit looking into. He knows who his family is - who raised him, who cared for him, who taught him, who stood by and continues to stand by him every day of his life. That matters much more to him than blood.

[kyberled]

Send me a ♂ and a question and my muse's father will answer it. || ACCEPTING

Anonymous asked:

♂ are you proud of your child?

“I see no reason to be. Tell me - has he accomplished anything of merit? Tied his name to anything important?”

...

“As I thought.”

[kyberled]

new ask game send me a 🌻 and ill just tell you whatever the fuck i want || ACCEPTING

@wanmins​ asked:

🌻 🌻 🌻

🌻 Darian and I have been discussing the Braig/Boba wedding and the first thing they do as a married couple is ruin everyone’s speeches when Boba threatens to shoot anyone who mentions Braig’s Jedi status in regards to marriage or how Boba went to prison, and Braig offhandedly drops that he wasn’t the first married Jedi even in recent history (noting that Master Mundi had five wives). A lot of people threw out their note cards. Newlywed gremlins thought it was everyone else’s fault for not fact checking or for writing bad speeches.

🌻 Braig has two family members who serve the Empire. The first is his father, Eadric, who was a general in the Republic Navy, kept his position when it became the Grand Army of the Republic, and kept it still when the Republic turned into the Empire because he frankly didn’t care. As far as canon currently goes, Braig hasn’t seen his father since he was four months old, and subsequently has zero memory of him. Given that Braig got almost all of his looks from his mother and stopped using his surname when he was a young teenager (perhaps earlier, though, legally, it was during his teens), nobody outside of the two of them would ever have any idea - but, if they ever met, they might be able to figure it out. His other relative on the other side of the war is his nephew (through his half brother), Rilan. Rilan was also the closest of that side of the family to figuring out Braig was related to them (something Braig also doesn’t know), but didn’t quite make it. Rilan decided to make a break for it with a bit of blood for a tracing database, got his speeder shot down by Crater/CR-8R (a reprogrammed Commando droid who’s part of Braig’s Rebellion squadron), and was left dazed and prone on the ground. Though Braig was fully aware Rilan was still alive (as Braig was a trained medic, Force-Sensitive, and they’d made eye contact), he announced that Rilan was dead (after getting the sample back) and ordered the squad to head out - regardless of what crest he wore, Rilan was 17, and Braig couldn’t bring himself to kill a child. Rilan never did figure out the Jedi was his uncle, but he did start questioning what he’d been told about the Empire. (Eadric, who sucks, never really questions the Empire, because he sucks.)

🌻 As I’ve said before, Braig re-does his braid after every shower, bands, beads, and all. Obi-Dad, who also helped Qui-Gon with his hair, taught Braig many different braid styles over the years. What I’m saying is Braig is very good at braiding hair and will absolutely do his friends’ for them if they ask. (It’s a bonding activity that holds a lot of significance for him, since his master/dad, and his best friends, all used to braid his hair, and he’d sometimes help the twins or Hano with their braids when they were able to be together. Please let him braid your hair.)

[kyberled]

@wildpawed​ asked:

What social class is your character born into?

His birth family was quite wealthy, actually. His mother, Shiv, is a doctor, and his father, Eadric, is a general in the Republic’s Navy. Between the two of them, they were affluent enough to afford life on Coruscant’s surface level. For Shiv, it took a lot of work, since she hadn’t been born there. Eadric, on the other hand, came from old money - and old military - and didn’t have to struggle his way to the top. That’s not to say that he didn’t earn his rank; He did, and was proud of it. The pay was only part of the charm. 

Of course, his parents are divorced now, and while Eadric remains in the luxurious Claermoore apartments, Shiv has defected to the other side and eaks out a living as a combat medic for the few sentient troops the Separatist deploy (as well as a general doctor, but healing victims of the war seems to be her calling). It’s enough to keep her comfortable, and that’s all she cares about.

Braig has no idea who either of them are, so this doesn’t really impact him.

[kyberled]

SEND ‘FLASHBACK’ FOR A RANDOM MOMENT FROM MY MUSE’S PAST! || ACCEPTING

@teardownheaven​ asked:

Flashback!

The scent of Merenzane Gold permeated the air of the foyer and burnt his nose with every inhale. The liquid in his glass swirls bright with its namesake colour. He throws it back and reaches for the bottle. It’s almost empty. 

Again. 

He grunts his displeasure and fills his glass again. The baby is crying. The baby is STILL crying. It’s been… How long has it been? He looks up and around, squinting through blurred vision until he spots the chrono on the wall. The numbers danced and swirled. He realized he didn’t know exactly when he’d started drinking. It had been a long time, though. Long enough that the damn nurse droid should’ve done something by now-!

“IC-89!” He shouts, then winces. His own voice is like a hammer to his temples. A muffled growl precedes his next words. “IC Unit!” A door opens somewhere upstairs. Methodical clanking steps that grew closer and closer. So did the crying. 

“Yes, sir?” The droid’s emotionless face stares down at him from the landing. The baby continues to fuss in its arms. Eadric pulls back again.

“Can’t you-” He furrows his brow and rubs at his temple. “Can’t you quiet that down?” The droid looks down to the baby being bounced in its arms, then back up to Eadric.

“He seems to be in great distress. I am doing my best.” It took a moment for the words to process. Between the screaming and the pounding headache, Eadric would say it was a wonder he heard anything at all. He finally shook his head and waved dismissively, returning to pacing the foyer. The droid clunked away. A door opened and shut and did little to muffle the baby’s ‘distress’. 

Distress. 

The baby was distressed. The baby? The baby was not distressed. The baby was needy. He was distressed! He was in mourning! His wife was gone! She was dead, and there was nothing he could do about it. That child did not understand ‘death’. That child did not know Shiv. That child… 

That child was supposed to be picked up by now. Where was the Jedi? 

— — —

The lift filled itself with some approximation of classical music. If Dhaan Osteers had to place a bet, it was probably from one of the shows that played at the Opera. He didn’t know for sure, though. He’s never been a music buff. But, carving? He could tell you all about carving. 

…

This was a long lift ride.

This was a tall building, but the lift felt like it was moving through molasses. The Force mulled around him, rasping across his senses and settling down low. He knew what that meant. The tinges of cold and gray only proved him right. 

Something was wrong with this situation.

Of course, he knew that already. This entire thing was weird. It was the first time he’d ever been out to visit a family alone. He’d been with his master every time before this. Yes, Dhaan was a knight. He’d happily served the Order for a full twenty-three years so far, with no plans of stopping any time soon. But he didn’t have that much experience with outreach. Master Rin was sick, though. ‘Just a cold,’ he’d said, ‘but no need to expose the little one to that.’ And he was right. Dhaan would be fine, just like Master Rin said. It was just a check-up. Of course, it was a check-up with the Claermoores. They were hard to prepare for. The father - a rear admiral, if Dhaan remembered properly - was receptive, the mother - a doctor - was not. That wasn’t too out of the ordinary. Mixed feelings were common, he’d been told. Especially early on. That’s why it was just their job to educate. They had to teach the parents about what the Force meant to their child, what to expect, and what their options were. Jedi, Whills, or a group connected to the family’s own culture, that didn’t matter. That’s what the masters always said. As Master Rin had put it, ‘trained is best’. Best for the child, and best for everyone else. It was just a matter of convincing the pa–

Ding.

Oh! The lift ride was over. Dhaan blinked and ran his hand over the frills on his head to make sure they were properly sorted. He caught his reflection in the gleaming chrome of the door as it slid open. He looked… Alright. Like a typical Rodian in typical robes. Very out of place in this luxury environment, but that was more for being a Jedi than anything else. They didn’t exactly mesh with ‘lavish’. He exhales, glances down to make sure he still has his datapad of information (he does) and the leaflets about different Force-sensitive groups to leave with the parents (he made extra copies) and steps out of the lift. His boots sink into the plush carpeting of the halls. Even though he wiped them off on the building’s entrance mat, and they’d hardly had any dirt on them to begin with, he still felt like he wasn’t clean enough to be here. It all felt so… Artificial. It set his nerves on edge.

… Actually, that wasn’t him. 

Someone nearby - a couple someones, actually - were drowning in anxiety. Had something happened? Dhaan’s brow furrows as he walks forward. He debates reaching for his saber, but, no. Not yet. He approaches the same door he’d stood at with Master Rin a month or so ago. He knocks. The gatekeeper droid emerges from the wall. It surveys him, rumbles out a question. 

“I was invited.” Dhaan says. He glances to the droid, then back to the door. Yeah, this was it. Whatever was going on, it was happening behind this door. 

Oh great.

The droid studies him a second longer, then pulls back into the wall. It remembers him, Dhaan knows, but it’s taking its time. He hopes that’s a good sign. The door slides open and it’s a physical strain to avoid wrinkling his snout. The air burns. He doesn’t just mean in the Force. 

That’s alcohol. 

Oh, great.

“You’re late.” The father - Oh, what was his name? Eadric, that’s right. Eadric stands a few feet inside the door. Even now, his posture is immaculate. Dhaan decides once again he doesn’t want anything to do with the navy. 

“I’m- Sorry?” Dhaan begins with a blink. 

“You ought to be.” There’s a gruffness to the man’s voice that’s new - or, at least, new to Dhaan. He’d always been courteous before. It had been his wife - the doctor - who’d been the prickly one. Dhaan composes himself and brushes off his tabard to give himself a moment. 

“I came as quickly as I could.” He said. “And I-” He sorts out the datachips and documents in his hands and holds them out. “I brought the information Master Rin and I discussed at our last visit. Outlining different options?” Eadric takes the offerings and blinks at them, sniffs, blinks again. 

“That won’t be necessary.” He said, tossing everything onto one of the couches in the foyer. Then he regarded Dhaan again, furrowed his brow, and leaned out of the doorway to glance down the hall. “You didn’t bring your master with you?” Dhaan leaned back and shook his head. 

“No. Master Rin sends his regards, but he’s unfortunately fallen ill.” He waits for Eadric to move back into the door before straightening. Eadric hums a single note and turns towards the stairs. 

“IC unit!” He shouts up the stairs. Dhaan isn’t sure who winces more at the sudden volume: Himself or Eadric. It was definitely a close contest. The Force around the man soured further as he scowled, and Dhaan had to make a conscious effort to not step further back. A slow, methodical clunking, accompanied by a quiet snuffling, came from upstairs. There was a cold sort of misery bubbling from that direction. Dhaan narrowed his eyes and pursed his snout. There was one thought in his mind that was louder than all the others. 

Oh no. 

The IC unit appeared, fussing baby in its arms. Dhaan kept his eyes on the child. He didn’t sense any injuries or illness, which was good, but what he did sense didn’t do much to ease his concerns. The poor thing was despondent. 

“Is everything alright?” He asked. He wasn’t sure if he was talking to Eadric anymore. 

“It will be.” Eadric responded anyway. He seemed too flippant for what was going on - at least on the surface. The Force around him whirled and shrieked a maelstrom of emotion. None of it was good. "Now that you're here." 

"Uh…" Dhaan blinked. "I'm happy to be of service." It's an automatic response. 

"Good." Eadric waves his hand towards the IC unit. It approaches, bouncing the still-fussing child in its arms. 

"Is he okay?" Dhaan is already stepping towards the child, ignoring the fact that he hasn't technically been invited in. No Jedi could ignore an innocent child in need. Especially not in a situation as concerning as this. He's intercepted before he can reach the baby. 

"That's no longer my concern." Eadric said stiffly. Though Dhaan could only see his back right now, the Force hinted at what kind of expression might be on the Admiral's face. 

It wasn't a smile. 

Eadric turns, and the baby is in his arms. Then the baby is in Dhaan’s arms. Eadric speaks before he has a chance to react. 

“I’ll have the necessary datawork transferred to your Order by sundown - good day.” 

And then the door closes.

And Dhaan is left staring open-mouthed at a plane of unfeeling metal.

“Wait-!” 

Even he wasn’t entirely sure what he was about to say. ‘Wait, I can’t just take him without the datawork’, ‘wait, this isn’t how things are done’, ‘wait, none of this makes sense’, anything like that. 

The baby is still crying. Dhaan looks at him, then to the door, then holds the baby a bit tighter. 

You know what? 

He’s actually not going to give this little one back - not unless the Masters say otherwise. 

[kyberled]

Send me ‘Dad’+ A Question and my muses Father will answer it || ACCEPTING

Anonymous asked:

Dad + what about Braig?

“Who?”

[kyberled]

Send me ‘Dad’+ A Question and my muses Father will answer it || ACCEPTING

Anonymous asked:

Dad+ Do you not care for him even a little? Not even a shred of pride?

“Brean is an acceptable soldier. He learns quickly enough, does as he’s instructed, and knows to mind his place. He serves his purpose well.” 

“I’ll be proud when he earns such a thing. Blood alone does not an officer make.” 

[kyberled]

Send me ‘Dad’+ A Question and my muses Father will answer it || ACCEPTING

Anonymous asked:

 DAD + puts a whoopie cushion on Eadric’s chair when he’s not looking

He comes back from the break room, datapad in one hand and thermos of caf in the other. It’s only an instinctive glance downwards as he sets his thermos on the desk that spares his dignity. He gives a curl of his lip and an irritated grunt before tossing the offending item into the nearest garbage can.

This never would have happened if they had natural-born security. 

[kyberled]

Send me ‘Dad’+ A Question and my muses Father will answer it || ACCEPTING

Anonymous asked:

DAD - has it ever occurred to you that you're a massive piece of shit, sir?

He gives a dismissive snort without looking up from his datawork. 

“What a scathing review from someone of such high esteem. I am completely shaken.” … Something about his deadpan tone makes it seem like he’s not exactly being sincere. “Can I direct you to our complaints department?” Without waiting for a response, he reaches over and taps a button on his desk. 

“Trooper, escort our guest to the airlock. What you do with them from there is up to you.”

[kyberled]

Send me ‘Dad’+ A Question and my muses Father will answer it || ACCEPTING

Anonymous asked:

Dad + *Says nothing while I run over and get up close and sneeze in Eadric’s face.* 

He’s already on edge with how quickly you’re approaching. The last incident - featuring arachnids-which-shall-not-be-mentioned - has him suspicious about the level of security the factory-made ‘soldiers’ are capable of providing. (If it were up to him, they wouldn’t be there. He’d have real men, competent men, at every door. Then maybe things like this wouldn’t happen.) 

And would you look at that? He was right. 

The good Admiral’s face twists in disgust as he shoves you back, one hand gripping the holster of the blaster on his hip. 

“What is the matter with you?!”

[kyberled]

SEND  💑 TO TALK TO THE PARENTS! || ACCEPTING

Anonymous asked:

💑Do you even like each other? 

“Of course we do.” Eadric says, at the same time as Shiv scoffs and looks away. 

“We did.” She’s got her arms crossed tight over her chest, and one knee crossed over the other. She intends to make her displeasure as known as possible. Eadric sighs  heavily through his nose and runs a hand through his hair. 

“You can’t possibly still be mad--” He begins, only to find himself promptly cut off.

“Mad?!” She snaps, pushing out of her chair. “You think I’m just MAD?” Yes, she’s still mad. In fact, she’s still furious. Shoulders back, brow furrowed, eyes blazing. She’s near ready to rip the head off a rancor. Eadric is used to threats. He is used to violence. He is used to aggression. And yet Shiv’s fury nearly makes him balk. He does lean back, gripping his own armrests to retain his balance. 

“You gave my baby away!” She snaps. Eadric sets his jaw with the stubbornness they both share (that they both passed on to their son) and furrows his brow. 

“What was I supposed to do?” He demanded. Shiv snorted as she recoiled. 

“I don’t know, take care of him? Wait for me?” She threw her arms out in wild exasperation. 

“I thought you were dead!” He’s standing now, too. This is going well. 

“He was our son!” Shiv snaps. 

“And you think my position allowed me to raise a child on my own, let alone a child like THAT-?” 

“Oh, it’s always about your position-!”

… This is going to go on for a while. 

It truly is shocking that this marriage didn’t last.

[kyberled]

SEND  ♂️ + A QUESTION TO ASK BRAIG’S FATHER THE ADMIRAL || ACCEPTING

Anonymous asked:

♂️ are you disappointed in your sons? 

“Sons?” He raises an eyebrow and emphasizes the plural. That’s got him to look up from his datawork, at least. Then he scoffs and returns to what he’s doing. 

“You must be mistaken. I’ve only ever had the one.” He draws his eyes away from his work one final time to shoot a pointed glare. 

“And he’s hardly worth mentioning.” 

[kyberled]

Send me a ♂ and a question and my muse's father will answer it. || ACCEPTING

ANONYMOUS asked:

♂ how could a pile of bantha shit like you produce anyone like braig?

He scoffs. 

“While I don’t appreciate your tone, I do agree with the sentiment. If his mother wasn’t who she was, I’d doubt he was mine. Stars only know that boy didn’t inherit anything from me.”

“Certainly not a spine, in any case.”