#*Marixah

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Oh No that was the 4000th post on this blog -- admitting I have a perverse fascination with trash love interest Quinn. Lmaoooo

Have some fanart (by me) of me & Dani’s Quinn ship w/ canon Warrior TD’s apprentice, Marixah.

[acapellapotato]

not sure which color scheme i like better for Taraia who starts off as a very “don’t rock the boat/status quo” news anchor 🤭

[stardriveskickstart]

Organizing a Starfinder campaign

To playtest some of the rules from my recently Kickstarted Stardrives supplement, I'm looking for players for a military-oriented campaign set during the Drift Crisis as the Marixah Republic/Gideron Authority conflict heats up.

Players would be Marixah privateers hired to provide security for a field test of an experimental FTL drive intended to compete with Gideron's Helldrives. I'd like to start at level 5 and use the squadron rules from SOM, though you could run a single large ship if you'd prefer.

I'm on CST time and available evenings except on Monday, hoping for 3-6 players.

If you're interested please reply.

[storiesforsims]

ENTRY 1013-11 - AUDIO

I'm... tired. Sorry. That isn't your problem. I'm sorry. But I was stupid, like I said, and I've been really sick... for-- for what seems like years, and I just-- I haven't eaten much for the last seven or-- six days? No, it's probably two-- four at most. There's nobody I can go to for help. I don't know anyone, at least not anyone I could ask for help. That's my fault. I should have tried harder. I was stupid. So stupid.

I put all my time into trying to grow food, and-- and I was... afraid. I knew that anyone I talked to would know I was stupid, and I... wanted to believe, just for a little while, that maybe someone would like me.

But that doesn't matter. And maybe I don't, either.

I did manage to-- I got a bucket of water from the creek, and... very tired... I'm going to read-- read for a while-- Mary Hopper, just the first chapter, then sleep, and maybe I'll feel more like eating, or having a drink, and washing up a little, and-- or reading a... a little longer... or....

...or maybe I'll even... do something. Do something right... for once... in my life....

(Her voice trails off... but the entry doesn't end. You check the screen, and it shows a shutdown due to inactivity. The next entry is three days later-- and this time, it's a man's voice.)

If you're still listening, this is Alezand Marixah. I'm here with my sister Iraley Sarimal, and I don't have anything else to say right now, because we have to take care of our sister Kadukan. But when she's feeling better-- and-- and she WILL get better, she has to get better-- believe me, we've got a LOT to tell you. Signing out.

(End of entry.)

[villainship]

Found the image of the fabric tag somewhere & shared it as “Tag your OC” --

-- immediately afterward: I stumbled across an old screenshot of Dani’s sith warrior, Marixah, opening her arms to her dumb, delicate husband. X)

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[villainship]

SWTOR OC Challenge: Dani - Day 1

[15-day Q&A by @wolfboywarmachine]

Just to confuse all our followers because I didn’t start this at the same time as gf.

1. Prologue. Where was your OC before the class story? How’d they end up on the starter planet?

- Lucianna -

[Human Sith Sorceror]

Cianna is our “canon” inquisitor in our collection, so I’ve kept the pieces of backstory she had. I haven’t selected a specific planet yet, but she was born into slavery on an Imperial world and there she stayed until her power came to light at the very end of her teenage years. As a teenager, she was effectively a maid and occasional unwilling playmate to the small daughter of a very wealthy family. She did not get along well with the seneschal of this estate, and one day when he took things too far she force-pushed him to his death -- much to her own surprise. From there she was ushered off to Korriban.

- Mirnaj’uli’eris -

[Chiss Imperial Operative]

Juli is the “canon” agent for us! I go back and forth on her backstory quite a bit. Lately, I’m leaning towards her parents having raised her on Dromund Kaas in the first place. She has always harboured some resentment towards the larger Empire, given their treatment of non-humans, even though she’s a Chiss and marginally more accepted than some other species. She bore no particular ill will towards the republic either, given that most average people living on the Imperial homeworld are quite removed from the war. Therefore the military didn’t appeal to her, but Imperial Intelligence seemed like a fun way to explore the galaxy on her own terms. Obviously it wasn’t.

None of my other OCs really follow the class stories at all, but prior to the era in which SWTOR takes place...

- Zetnu’ri -

[Twi’lek Smuggler]

Zet was actually my first character on SWTOR and she’s based off of my Edge of the Empire character. I picked up her backstory and dropped it into SWTOR because it works just fine here too. She’s born and raised on Nar Shaddaa by parents who managed to escape slavery. They didn’t have a lot of money, but her home life was very warm and loving. In her late teens and young adulthood, Zet began doing the less dangerous sorts of jobs for the Black Sun - playing lookout, running parcels and messages, and so on. She doesn’t have the vicious mindset one would need to truly advance with the Suns, and she kept her work secret from her parents, knowing they wouldn’t approve. Eventually she started to move goods offworld as well, which is when she learned to smuggle and pilot. The turning point for her was when she discovered the shipping crate she picked up was full of slaves; when she docked, she called it in to the local authorities instead of completing the delivery and disappeared in the chaos. The Suns put out a bounty on her head as a thank you.

- Isaq -

[Mirialan Jedi Guardian]

Isaq is Kirryl’s younger cousin. He would have followed along to Tython a few years behind her, and he eventually falls in love with her padawan, Kira. Anyway... We haven’t settled on a homeworld for them yet, it may well have been Mirial. There were plenty of force users in their family and his childhood wasn’t particularly remarkable, just Very full of their large green family.

- Keran -

[Cyborg Sith Assassin]

Prior to Korriban, Keran was living a life of extreme wealth and privilege!! At least one of his parents was Sith, and both came from wealth themselves. “Home” was likely Dromund Kaas, but I don’t think they were there for more than a couple of months out of the year. His parents took him with them when they had cause to travel and work on other planets. 

- Thalia -

[Mirialan Sith Juggernaut]

Thalia also would have grown up wherever Kirryl and Isaq did, but she’s older than both of them. Her father is very gentle, and her mother was a scientist with an Intense interest in the unknown region. When Thalia was five or six, her mother went on an expedition and never returned. She and her crew were presumed dead, and she and her father were left to mourn alone. He met another woman a few years later, remarried, and then Kirryl was born, making her Thalia’s little half-sister. They had a fairly large family with three parents among them and a handful of siblings, plus extended family, so Thalia spent the rest of her childhood in that busy environment until she was sent to Tython to begin training as a Jedi.

- Marixah -

[Pureblood Sith Marauder]

Marixah doesn’t come into our story until much later, towards the end of TD/Cianna’s class stories. I haven’t given a lot of thought to her pre-Korriban life, but as a force-sensitive pureblood Sith, I’m sure it wasn’t particularly dramatic or difficult. She and her first master were marooned on Eadu (there’s no TOR canon for what that world was like this long before the OT so.... fight me) for years. Her master didn’t survive, in the end, and she was rescued entirely by chance. Upon her return to civilization, TD took her on as an apprentice.

[villainship]

Faction-swap Marixah the Jedi consular (looking extra red).

Maybe I should start a pride rainbow of OCs (Dani says this one will be a girl-romancing lesbian) …

[villainship]

Leaving Odessen [Part II]

(Continued directly from the last writing post!!!)

“Thank fuck…”

Marixah doesn’t look up from the controls. “Eager to be on your way, my lord?”

Pulling both his gloves off, Tarskal pinches the bridge of his nose for a moment and then slides his whole palm down his face. “On each others’ nerves again.” He finishes the movement with a distracted scratching of his beard. “Another day of that and it would not end well.”

The young woman never offers any commentary on his relationship with his wife and children. His longtime apprentice certainly spends enough time around his family to have formed many opinions, but whether she agrees or disagrees with his version of events she never says. Tarskal has come to expect this sphinx-like reticence from her. Instead, she follows with another question to smoothly change the subject. “Katiya has come a long way these past few months. Will she be sent to Korriban like her brother?”

Her mentor is appraising her expression, watching the red sith from the corner of his eye. “Possibly. Certainly not before she has a real grasp of the significance of discipline. We’ll have to see what the next year brings.”

They finally break the treeline, Marixah piloting the shuttle towards the central command base of the Alliance. “The academy has changed since you or I attended it, my lord. As I’m sure you know. The training is more grueling, and the punishments for failure more harsh.” She might as well be commenting on the sun in the sky.

Tarskal shrugs, replying mildly, “No worse than what she’ll face in the unsheltered expanse of the galaxy, Apprentice. She’ll want to go. And I hardly think this campaign headquarters will be a better fit for her future.”

“As you say. It would be my honour to help her prepare. Even if only by allowing her to crack my husband’s head open.” Marixah flashes a smirk at him in referencing Quinn’s recent trauma-by-child.

Her master’s grin in response is unusually mechanical, and the laugh she would have expected doesn’t follow. He isn’t even looking her way. Instead he watches the jumble of rich, green mountains and fresh blue sky out the cockpit window, recalling instead the brittle air of Korriban, smoky with malice and the thrill of ambitious, vicious youth.

“Such contributions are appreciated,” he says finally, inviting a period of silence between them.

It’s not long before the shuttle’s console beeps. Marixah looks down to see the holo light flickering. “Priority call coming in from the commander for you, my lord.”

Tarskal’s jaw sets. He slowly slides his gloves back on, flexing his fingers as they reach the tips. Let her wait for a few extra seconds. These days the barest glimpse of her has been putting him on edge. The thought of another perfectly civil interaction? Enough to raise his blood pressure. Now her missing bug-brained husband has been found, the Commander has been the one to keep a cool head. Not only rational but seemingly content. At-ease. Patient.

It doesn’t suit her.

Not that anyone is going to ask his opinion. He’s sure his wife would prefer he not have one at all.

Drawing a sigh, Tarskal adopts a professional expression with an easygoing hint of a smile. He activates the comm. “Good morning, Commander.”

Mirnaj’uli’eris’s face blinks onscreen. The chiss woman doesn’t smile to see him, but her tone is unfailingly polite. “Same to you, general. We’ve scheduled our briefing for noon. Will you be here on time or should we plan to holo you in?”

“Depends. Have you got the classy droid doing drinks, or will we have to divert course for something caffeinated?”

Crisply, Juli replies, “We’ll be serving lunch. It’s just a small group today.”

“I expect whipped foam and the bitter flavour of quality.”

Fronting a nonchalant tone is as effortless as breathing for him, but Tarskal can feel a tension in his shoulders. He’s conscious of his hands: the way he’s posed them to appear most relaxed, draped from the armrests on either side of him. The risk of revealing any hint of stress to the ex-intelligence agent is increasing his agitation. The sense that the keen-eyed chiss isn’t paying attention rankles him more.

“Hm. You said you’re prepared to be in the field for a while? I need you on Hoth for the next several weeks.” There’s something on her face, a twinge of her eye or a twist of her lip, that suggests his employer is expecting that to get a rise out of him.

He doesn’t need to give her the satisfaction. The way things are, isolation from all non-essential social contact will be a welcome retreat. The longer the trip, the better. “Understood.”

“Good. We’ll discuss it when you arrive.” If she’s disappointed, he won’t get to see it; Juli closes the channel.

The shuttle falls quiet save for the hum of the engine. Tarskal slouches back in his chair, resentment bringing the twinge of a frown to his face.

Marixah is silent, but there’s a palpable weight to it. He catches her darting a look at him out of the corner of her eye, and he knows she’s barely holding back the urge to make a comment.

“Seems like everything is working out, then.” He speaks before she can say a word. “You weren’t counting on being home sooner than that, were you? Or on keeping your chin-tips toasty warm.”

She shakes her head. “I go where I’m needed. Malavai understands, and I don’t have children waiting for me at home.” There is still something left unsaid. Tarskal watches her, waiting. He won’t deign to prompt her with a question. Eventually, Marixah shrugs. “I’m only surprised you didn’t protest, my lord. You hate Hoth.”

Red in his eyes flickering at the echo of Juli’s ambiguous, taunting subtext, Tarskal scoffs. “There’s nothing good about it. On the other hand–which is relevant to my volunteering myself–it’s not here.”

Marixah sucks on the inside of her cheek as she considers her next sentence. “So… It’s the commander you’re avoiding?”

His eyebrow raises, and he says nothing, his silence inviting her to clarify.

“With respect, my lord.” Marixah flashes a look at him, then focuses very intently on her flying. “You’ve been more irritated by her than usual for the past few weeks. But I’ve observed that she is less inclined to bicker with you.”

“Hmmm.” Tarskal tries to treat this as though he is considering her evaluation, but his attempt to sound unconcerned is so heavy-handed it comes off as unconvincing. “Do I seem irritated?”

“Yes.” No hesitation this time.

“Really?” He’s aware his apprentice isn’t buying this act, and he doesn’t care. “You’d have to admit she never treated me very respectfully. Perhaps the dearth of well-deserved recognition has worn me down.” He doesn’t bother to filter the hypocrisy out of his contrived excuses either.

“I’ve witnessed some of your arguments, along with everyone else who frequents the operations base.” Marixah gives him another sidelong glance. “She wouldn’t have given you a proper rank if she didn’t bear some respect for your skills, master. It’s not like she did it out of friendship.”

Tarskal haughtily returns his attention to the view again. “Oh yes; bestowing the rank of General and allowing me to command the troops I brought to this Alliance.” He grits his teeth against the bitterness slipping into his tone, re-establishing composure and feigned disinterest. “You’re fully aware, I know, that I have my reasons why I’ve put up with it; but I’m sure you also realize I’ve been overqualified for anything I’ve ever done for her.”

Outwardly he merely sounds finished with this conversation, and someone Force-blind might be fooled into believing he’s grown bored. Marixah knows better. She can smell prideful anger smouldering behind the measured neutrality on his face. A dark mood crawling to life like kindled flames: simmering low, fastidiously confined and vented, with all the menacing potential of the blaze to come.

[villainship]

[villainship]

RE: last reblog -- while it’s ACTUALLY important in real life that there isn’t a big power imbalance (which often comes with age gaps) and fictional shipping isn’t the same thing, we were just talking the other day about how Marixah (Dani’s marauder) x Quinn is only good for us if she’s like 30 years old while he’s about 40-ish. Lol.

She’s still an apprentice, but TD isn’t the first Sith master she’s trained with. Quinn’s life/sense of self is in absolute ruins at that point in time. Marixah is the beacon of sanity to light his world with hope for the Empire again. 8]

[villainship]

[Adventures in being green]

Another video of Lyir’s smuggler journey will be up on my twitch for a bit ~

Also ur last chance to watch pre-75 Kirryl working hard to help consular Marixah on a vet-mode Czerka FP. . . 

Observe our struggle on the first boss, where we didn’t realize until the end that my robot baby was completely missing. LOL. (Something to keep in mind for next time -- make sure my buddy finds their way down to the watery lightning pit.)

. . . and the 2nd boss, where it’s very clear I cannot dodge circles. . . huueheh.

and. . . the last boss, where I fkn die and then Dani can’t find her consular combat res (I googled it while I was dirt-napping) so uh. >X) Had to try that a 2nd time.

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A sulky jerk!!

I have played this MMO with people who were not born yet when I first invented the fantasy-genre wizard version of this character.  (Attachments to stuff from when you were 14 is what makes being 34 feel SO OLD.)

Anywayy. . . He’s going to be Cianna’s apprentice. Probably during her time seated on the Dark Council. A little bit younger than TD & Cianna’s son, Tyren. TD’s apprentice at the time, Marixah, is older still--but they have enough interaction for her to feel like his “older sister” of apprentice-ing. Probably one of the better influences in his life (if not exactly “good”, she’s got some morals).

Luukey is real small but angery. Packed to the brim with frustrations and unwieldy Force powers almost as volatile as his personality.

[villainship]

[SWTOR OC challenge: R - Day 2]

[15-day Q&A] [Part 1]

2. Family. Is your OC’s family a large part of their story? Why or why not? Are they on good terms? Are any of your characters related?

- Tarskal - As referenced in pt. 1, his backstory involved his parents dying. He has no siblings. Doesn’t like to think of anyone else being related to him. HOWEVER: he’s had a longstanding goal to create his own personal family lineage. Eventually he commissions a clone. He & Cianna marry to raise that son together, and some years later they ~collaborate~ on a lab-grown daughter as well. TD also considers apprentices of himself & Cianna to be their children. . . kind of. Lower in his hierarchy than “real” family members. There’s also some recognized “honorary aunt/uncle/kindred” people in this arrangement.

- Kirryl - Family IS kind of a big deal with Kirryl, despite her Jedi ways. Leaving her (three) parents was hard. Even more difficult was trying to detach from her older sister when they were together on Tython--and dealing with the ultimate outcome of Thalia’s unwillingness to “let go” of her own mother. By the time her younger cousin Isaq is also sent to Tython, Kirryl is no longer as strict about distancing herself. They’ve often undertaken missions together as full-fledged Jedi.

- Arameis - “Arameis” is actually the name shared by his mother’s family members. The gesture of assigning it to himself was meant as a way to distance him from himself as an individual. Ranieh does intend its use to honor those things that formed him: a representative of that past now that he’s not a part of it. He wholly broke contact with his family to commit to his interpretation of Jedi ideals. Maybe he was inspired by complicated views he holds about his father’s choices: bowing out of connections with the Jedi order, more-or-less abandoning the code and “the cause”. Meanwhile, Ranieh’s older brother was everything a Jedi should be, from his perspective. He’s hasn’t seen him in years. Aravan left on what has turned out to be a very long mission while Ranieh was on Tython struggling to graduate from padawan rank. . . . This young man makes everything very difficult for himself.

- Kallir - Wow they’re all dead and he has no clues about who they were. RIP. . . . He would probably LIKE to feel any particular way about this, but with all that he’s usually going through in the present tense, he’s never found time to try emotionally processing it.

(Bonus)

- Elenir - The famous armor smiths/artisans/merchant craftspeople-! She had oodles of relatives in way-too-close proximity. Beloved & frustrating & chaotic -- and dearly missed now that she’s on her own. I’m sure she writes to them (some of them) frequently.

- Lukar - [Human Sith Apprentice] Lucianna’s third(?) inquisitor apprentice, co-current with Tarskal mentoring Marixah (older “sister” apprentice), and with the parenting of Tyren (a “brother” apprentice probably close to his age) and Tiya (little terror jr. "baby sister” apprentice). . . I’m not too sure what his relationship was/is like with his own parents (in most other AUs, he’s Tarskal’s son & unwilling heir LOL), but I know that his place in TD and Cianna’s constructed family is very significant to him. Shrimpy nerd who accidentally calls the teacher “mom” and almost wishes it were true. Tarskal mostly terrifies him though, so-- life is kindof a struggle.

[villainship]

[”Come home to me”]

In a far future: Lucianna & Tarskal are still each other’s number one priority. Partners for life.

(This is a collaborative RP adaptation! A glimpse of our Ship in their natural state... Part 1 mostly has a bunch of ~romantic~ mushiness. Just a few hints of the sub-surface drama. The prose-formatting of part 2 is in the works.)

Late mornings on Odessen are cool this time of year.

The sun is high in the sky, but the rugged terrain and tall, densely packed trees block much of it out here. Standing tall and at ease despite his massive metal armor, a wide-shouldered, broad-chested man waits on a shuttle pad outside of a cluster of freestanding family quarters. His cape stirs in the slight breeze, rippling against the hem of his thick robe. At his right elbow, a slight sith woman with a lightsaber on each hip is overseeing a couple of cargo droids as they load the small craft.

Lord Tarskal--once the emperor’s Wrath in younger days, now a mere general in the outlander’s Alliance--watches for his family to emerge for their goodbyes.

The relative peace is shattered by the sound of small, pounding footsteps on metal, prompting a grin to wrinkle the corners of his eyes. A young girl bursts outside and races towards him, arms outstretched. He responds in kind, catching her to his chest in a bear hug, then fully lifting Katiya off her feet.

“Come back soon!” His daughter punctuates this with a kiss on the cheek and a tight squeeze around his neck.

“Yes Tiya, sweetie. I know you’ll miss me too much.” His foolish smirk still on his face, Tarskal’s eyes drift over her shoulder, fixing upon his wife as she emerges through the sliding double doors.

Lucianna’s simple black robes are pulled snug around her against the chill in the air, her red hair hanging loose around her shoulders. A smile curves her lips as she watches him with their youngest child.

Their teenage son reluctantly follows a few steps behind. “Don’t strain yourself,” Tyren comments, observing the careful way Tarskal sets Katiya down again beside him. The unspoken “old man” after his remark is implicit in the silence, communicated through tone and the vaguely insolent look on the young clone’s face. Tarskal is in a mood to allow it. He makes no response beyond a chuckle, fondly petting the back of his little girl’s head and ruffling her hair, until Tyren lifts an arm in invitation to his kid sister. She scampers back to him, tucking in like an eager duckling under her guardian’s wing.

Cianna had stepped aside to let Tiya pass, now she takes Tarskal’s hand in hers as she stops before him. Her amber eyes shift to Marixah, standing politely apart from them. “Keep him out of trouble.”

“Of course, my lord.” Her husband’s apprentice nods politely; the dip of her head isn’t enough to hide her smirk. Taking in the pair of them, she clears her throat. “Master, I’ll see to the pre-flight check.” Marixah bows respectfully to Cianna before retreating into the shuttle.

“Bye, children.” Satisfied with the moment he’s shared with them, Tarskal lets his voice carry the strong hint of dismissal to his offspring. His attention is on Cianna now. So too his relaxed, smiling gaze.

Never sorry to escape his father’s grating presence, Tyren uses the half-hug grip to usher his sister along. “Come on, Tiya.” The girl’s earnest farewells follow behind them as he leads her back inside.

A beat of silence passes between wife and husband. They’ve been quarrelling about the finer details of childrearing for days now. First it was Tyren: Cianna caught Tarskal berating him after a sparring session. She had told him off for being too harsh with their son. For once he hadn’t argued, but his private confessions to her were of high expectations of himself as a teacher and their son as a pupil, not his ideas to resolve the issues or revise his behaviour. After all that, yesterday’s incident: Katiya had appeared out of nowhere to sweep-kick Malavai Quinn to the ground so hard he nearly bit clear through his tongue. There’s no love lost between Cianna and Quinn, as everyone knows. She’d likely have celebrated if Tiya had murdered him. It’s just that she had made it explicitly clear years ago that Tarskal’s pet traitor isn’t allowed anywhere near her children or her home, so the opportunity never should have presented itself.

Tarskal can feel Cianna’s lingering frustration bubbling below the surface, and she’s aggravated in turn by the untroubled nothing that so often emanates from him.

And yet this may be the last time they’re alone for a while. Cianna lets out a slow breath as her fingers tighten around his. She steps into him, inhaling deeply, and wraps her other arm around his shoulders. “I’ll miss you,” she murmurs into the crook of his neck.

Tarskal’s heavy arm slides around her waist and pulls her in close. He turns his face for his lips touch her temple softly, then press to the edge of her hair near to her ear. “You always get significantly more work done.”

“Without my favourite distraction.” Cianna laughs quietly and nuzzles his cheek. “Come home to me.”

He slides a glove off, cupping the left side of her face in the warmth of his palm. “Yes, darling.” He isn’t teasing or patronizing her. They make these lovers’ contracts all the time, and Cianna knows he is merely accepting the terms. He seals it with the long kiss that follows, her chin aimed by his touch and held gently throughout.

Cianna fists her fingers in his shirt and stretches up onto her toes to fiercely return the affection. Her tongue brushes his lips, she presses her body close; she holds tight and savors his taste, breathing herself into him as if she could ever be enough to fill him up.

When she stops for air, dropping back to the flats of her feet, she reaches up to touch his jaw. “Goodbye, my love.” The storm brewing behind her eyes seems smaller now, broken by her undeniable affection for him.

His thumb strokes her cheek as he smiles at her. “Goodbye, wife. I’ll speak with you if there’s a secure opportunity.” Tarskal leaves her a last peck on the lips, at last removing his arm from her waist. His intimately familiar, sentimental gaze is how he looks at his best friend. “Take care, Cianna.”

She reluctantly lets go. Her fingers brush his forearm, and Cianna steps back, folding her hands in front of her. She watches him turn away, heavy cape flowing from his bold stride, vanishing through the shuttle hatch in his flourish of stately drama, and sighs.

The door seals behind him as soon as he boards.

In the cockpit, Tarskal grips the back of a chair next to Marixah as his apprentice begins their ascent, then drops himself gracelessly into it. “Thank fuck…”

Marixah doesn’t look up from the controls. “Eager to be on your way, my lord?”

[acapellapotato]

went back in & changed Marixah’s outfit to something that fits the “mood” of her character i guess. there’s some cyberpunk stuff but only medieval noble outfits (that i noticed)