tarre says ... ❛ i keep on hoping nothing has changed . ❜
“Yeah, me too.” She sat in the expanse of sand next to them, staring into the dying embers of the campfire. A solemn weight pressed itself against the two Mandalorians. It was inevitable, she knew, but having another set of shoulders to carry the load was reassuring. “I never knew ghosts could weigh so heavily on a heart.”
@finitefm
beskarbuir // din djarin
── THE CANTEEN IS EASILY CAUGHT, its coolness permeating past leather. it’ll be another while before they drink from it, at least until they can find another retreat from eyes, though they raise it up with a slight shake to signal thanks. they swallow down the lingering iron.
as anxiety passes through her, nicks at her speech, din lifts themself from against the ship’s side and approaches her with a languid stride. there’s not much else to indicate that there shouldn’t be so much worry around questioning them ─ though when they finally reach them, a hand grips their upper arm as reassurance before falling back to their side. the touch is as brief as a breath. in truth, they’re surprised she had waited this long to ask. her patience is wholly appreciated, of course, but they do not open themself from within. they could hide themself infinitely. a being encased in shell upon shell, they must be pried with anything but a knife. ❝ yeah. ❞ their tone is open, paired with a nod. wariness lies there, too. ❝ go ahead. ❞
in turn, nerves do not bind them but an old weight pulls at their spine, pooling at their feet and the ends of their fingers. they’re not sure what to expect, what vital differentiations will contrast the both of them. one of their tenets already invites perplexed looks ─ sometimes it leads others to cruelty, like it was a challenge to break it for them. ❝ i’d like to know more about yours, too ─ ❞ really, they already know the response before it leaves them. but if their companion sought permission for their history, they will give the same courtesy. ❝ ─ if you’re willing. ❞
The trepidation, though never malignant, was always present. It was a dance Sabine had practiced with every sibling by creed, but none more so than this one. There was no resentment or exhaustion or shame in it-- this was just the cost of their relationship. And Sabine was more than content to measure their words, to weigh their steps, to share meals in separate rooms, to avoid painful questions-- if it meant spending time with her friend. For them, it was worth it.
Their touch was as gentle as it was brief, and it returned her to the present. Sabine greeted his gentility with a waning smile from unmasked lips. Their answer was relief, another brick to the altar of trust built by them both. Of course, he knew her reply. Though nothing in the steel countenance conceded it, the fact made itself known. She would share with him whatever was asked. (They appreciated the formality nonetheless.)
“Yeah. Um. I think that would be...Yeah, I would like that.”
There was no telling where to start. Certain things were known, yes, but others? How were they to tread the trauma they’d experienced in the last few years alone? And how much of it did they really share? Amid the torrent of questions, a quiet reassurance chimed from the back of their mind: let’s start here.
“Did you-- er, do you have a family?”
❛ do you think i’m stupid ? ❜ (From Alton)
“Not necessarily.” She spoke was clarity and precision, every word punctuated with a sharpened edge. They held no love for the man who had smeared her family’s names and painted them as traitors during the birth of the Rebellion.
“Quite the opposite, in fact. Someone who profits on the suffering of others needs to have some level of intelligence to survive as long as you have.”
Their voice remained steady. She would not give him the satisfaction of emotion.
“You’re cruel, and you’re cowardly, but you’re not stupid. If you really want to know what I think of you--” they smiled, though it was empty and devoid of emotion, “--just know, it’s not fear or anger. I pity you, Alton.”
@cravked // trilla suduri
it wasn’t that unusual, by all accounts, but perhaps her own standards had shifted with the way that she had spent the last two years of her life. any kind of contact with other sentient creatures was not quite as dreaded as it had been before. she was changing, whether she liked it or not. she couldn’t be miserable for the rest of her life. she realized that she didn’t want to be, either. that meant accepting some of the ways that she had changed.
“you’re lucky i took pity instead of leaving you for the thugs,” she offered, not quite willing to yet let go of her nature to underplay things.
standing up once again with the other, trilla drew her cape around her frame so that it was more hidden. “i suppose you would think that, with that armor that you’re wearing,” she remarked. her words weren’t particularly spiteful, despite the history that she was well educated on. “don’t count on learning too much. if you haven’t noticed, i’m not as chatty as you appear to be.” which was fine by her standards, really. she much rather the stranger do all of the talking.
A glint of light flashed around Trilla’s waist as she adjusted her cloak and Sabine sobered for a moment, struck by the image they saw. It was only a quick glimpse, but it was enough. A lightsaber. This stranger carried with them a lightsaber.
They averted their gaze, instead focusing on the landscape before them, but she couldn’t deny that her curiosity about the stranger grew. Was she being assisted by a Jedi? Or a Sith? Or, could this traveler, like their friend Ahsoka, be neither? Was she the weapon’s original owner or, like Sabine’s experience with the Darksaber, had it merely passed into her hands over time? Was she here of good will, or did she have an ulterior motive? Sabine didn’t sense any danger from their travelling companion, but she could never be too sure.
One thing she was certain of was this: as mouthy as she had been, Sabine’s sudden shift to silence would not go unnoticed. Trilla, whoever she really was, was very intelligent, that much they could tell. So, they threw out a quip in response to the other’s taunting.
“Well, that’s okay.You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to. I’m sure these plants make excellent conversationalists,” they teased. “In fact, I bet they’re even better at being brooding and aloof than you are.” She checked their datapad, gathering a quick mental map of the surrounding area. “And it’s only an hour or two’s trek to the next settlement. Unless you know the area better?”
She would hold conversation and accept what help was offered, for now. After all, it’s better to wait with sharp ears and eyes than walk into the jaws of a Rancor unknowingly.
@swishycapes // Lando Calrissian
sabine was a lot of things, that much had been immediately certain upon meeting them –– he liked that kind of person, really, even if they weren’t so precisely aligned with his motives, like they had been at the time. but the way that she stuttered over her words, struggled to get through a sentence, that didn’t seem like her. so the little mandalorian wasn’t the best at holding her alcohol. that was cute, in the kid kind of way.
“i do like to gamble,” he clapped them on the back. “if i didn’t know any better, i’d say that you’ve already been gambling with something. or is that just the alcohol?” he grinned, his smile all friendly teeth. he took the pastry from her without hesitation, taking a bite out of it. “alright, your turn. why don’t you go for… this one?” he picked up one of the purple cupcakes on the table, handing it to them.
A hearty slap on her back, and she nearly choked on the drink they were holding. They hid the growing smile behind her hand as giggles racked their way up her throat. Maybe this scoundrel wasn’t so...scoundrel-ey after all! Force, the music was so loud in their ears! She bobbed up and down on their feet, body pulsing with the rhythm of the performers. Is this what f r e e dom felt like? Hell, not even the Empire could catch up to them now! Her friend’s face was blurry when they turned to face him, almost everything moving too slowly. With a snort, she mouthed a laugh, but no sound came out. Well, none she heard.
“Wha-what you don’t get,” they hiccuped, then reached haphazardly for the dessert they were extending so temptingly towards her.
“Is that I don’t gamble, Lando” She stressed the last syllable, almost as if singing a song. “I win!”
It wasn’t true, but they didn’t need to worry about that just right now. Ignoring it was just too much fun.
Forget the explosion – look at the colour!
cravked // Trilla Suduri
there are several things on display, and trilla had to admit, she wasn’t sure if she was disturbed or impressed by the amount of gall that the hapans must have possessed to put some of these things on display. as they observed what was held out, an eye was also placed on those around, mildly surprised to see a familiar face casing the room. hm. they watched sabine briefly before deciding to approach. “does all this seem a little crass to you too?”
.
It had taken more than the Ghost Crew’s fair share of advice to calm her temper upon hearing how the few remnants of her people had been stolen and put on gross display as some twisted show of colonization. But, now? Standing here? Sabine nearly felt sick to their stomach, looking at the skeletal remains of another warrior, their armor and weapons hung up by those who benefitted from Mandalore’s destruction. So lost in their fury did she hardly notice the figure that spoke into the silence, their tone easily recognizable.
“It’s apalling.” Sabine seethed, nails digging into the skin on her palms. Despite their anger, her tone remained the same, a slow drip of cold emanating outwards in every direction. “These relics, they don’t belong behind glass cases and locked doors. They belong in the hands of my people.” And they would be, soon. If Sabine could do nothing else, they’d see this done. “Sorry, Trilla. I’m not trying to direct my feelings about this onto you.”
cptfulcrum // alexsandr kallus
Kallus has long since known that the Ghost crew had forgiven him for the atrocities he’s committed. Even as he struggled to understand how or why, he would be grateful to his final days for friends such as them. Sabine would understand the significance of this in a way that no one else tasked would. They would understand the research that had gone into this, the inner turmoil while he had struggled with the Imperial idea of his body. Years later and it haunted him, the guidelines beat into their soldiers. “ Thank you. “ he said simply, nodding his head as he put his personal code into the datapad. Then he handed it off to them, the picture simple and not able to be understood to someone that didn’t know him. The Fulcrum Symbol featured, with fauna native to Lira San in another image. Finally, a third image of some flowers native to Lasan. He’s no artist, but has a vision. He knows Sabine is the one to execute that for him. “ This is quite personal to me. I want a tattoo. “ it’s to the point, lacks the emotion he has surrounding the whole idea, and his insecurities about how Zeb would feel about the whole thing. “ If it’s amenable for you, I’d prefer you to help me with this. “
The image drew a sharp inhale from the Mandalorian. The concept was striking, a symbol equal parts sharp and soft, a contrast of edges and curves. It was as though the picture itself was blooming before her eyes; she could already see the colors springing to life, filling the spaces between lines. They thought of the equipment that sat just inside her ship and the weeks since it had been used. It was a practice she was well-versed in-- but this time was different. It was so much more than ink and skin.
“Kallus, I...” But what words could she speak to answer a request so heavy? Sabine understood, of course they understood, what this meant to him. They could imagine the struggle he’d faced just to ask so much of her, the nights he must have wrestled with the regulations the Empire had imposed on him since boyhood. The tattoos she had were-- like so many other things-- an act of rebellion against them. And now it was his turn. Wordlessly, she nodded, holding his tired gaze with their own. Their grip on his hand tightened.
“When do you want to do this? I can have a few digital drafts made up withing a few hours, but I won’t rush you. Take it on your own time, and I’ll follow you.”
xspectre-1 // kanan jarrus
it had taken kanan years to get here. to feel this comfortable with his emotions… with others. having children had never been the plan, even when sabine and ezra had joined. kanan had insisted they wouldn’t matter– they would be a crew, that was it.
oh how wrong he had been.
the family the six had created… it was the reason for their success. for their strength.
but watching them grow– seeing them now. he couldn’t have guessed how it would have made him feel. how proud he had become.
kanan smiled a bit, a small chuckle on the edge of his lips. they had always been okay in the end, hadn’t they? perhaps their collective number of loses keeping them from… much.
but as sabine continued, the small smile fell, perhaps sad to divert so quickly. to face reality. what he had missed– what he had caused even.
not that the words were expected.
“what- no, i mean. no more than anyone,” he continued, hands returning to them, worried they might slip away. “i mean, that’s what the rebellion is, isn’t it?”
.
Seeing his smile again...it was like a sunbath after a year of winters, a remnant from a time when her family-- not just one, but both-- had been whole. Years ago, they couldn’t have considered this a possibility. Couldn’t have imagined she’d be standing here on the shining plains of Lothal (a place that held so much shared history for the Spectres). Yet, there she was: in the arms of their parent, now returned to them at last. It was a gentle reminder: in the here and now, the Mandalorian was truly safe. And that was enough.
They almost had to concede a chuckle at his disbelief. She’d seen him perform feats they’d never be able to dream of, had seen him walk through blaster fire alone and blind-- yet return home unscathed. And still he tried to play humble.
“I know it’s hard to believe, right? Who would have thought a knucklehead like you could ever be a war hero?”
She looked up at the mask that adorned his face, the eyes of the jai’galaar still in tact. It had been years since they had painted them on, but for him, it was only a matter of weeks. Months, maybe. Despite the time, she remembered well enough. Those first few nights after Malachor, in the cabin of the Ghost (when words were seldom spoken, but the pain and grief were a shared). Shared by those that loved each other most--
“Dank farrik, Kanan! Have you met with anyone else? Zeb, Hera?”
Therein was hidden the silent question only she knew was being asked of him: did Kanan know about Jacen? Did he know he was a father not only by bond, but also by blood? By the Ka’ra, he needed to know they were safe. He needed to see them healthy, and alive.
skywalkerxlegacy // Luke Skywalker
The human talking to Mando was not someone that Luke was familiar with. His head is cloudy, his thought in a haze. One hand holds the brownie in his hand and the other holds a glass of some bubbly liquid. He doesn’t think it’s champagne, as it looked nothing like the glass he’d had with Leia earlier. It’s colored and he takes a sip. It’s surprisingly smooth down his throat. “ Who are you? “ he questioned, looking at the colored hair. His brows are raised. He wouldn’t normally be so blunt, but he’s curious about who his friend is spending time with. It shouldn’t matter, really, but it does. “ I’m Luke. “
@call-me-spectre-five
Kriff, she was so glad that their friends had dragged her to this ridiculous party. It seemed so uptight and stuffy at the time, but now? Now she was surrounded by drinks and having the time of her life! It was only a few minutes after eating one of the brightly-colored desserts on display that Sabine noticed the man she had only heard rumors about, approaching them with a pointed gaze. A giggle escaped her lips at the question-- of course she knew who he was!
“‘m Sabine! Sabine Wren. Pleasure to--” hiccup “-- to meet you, Luke.”
They caught a server droid passing by and grabbed two drinks off the tray, offering one to the man in front of her.
“I fucking love your...” they paused, trying to form the words on her tongue (it felt so loose. that was weird, right?) “I love your outfit!”
BANITA SANDHU // have you met SABINE WREN yet? SHE/THEY is a/an 29 year old DEMIWOMAN HUMAN. they’re originally from MANDALORE and now show loyalty to THE REBELLION. they are best known for being a/an WEAPONS MASTER, and i hear they’re pretty INVENTIVE yet also STUBBORN at times; I hope they survive the galactic civil war. (JO, 20, CST, ANY PRONOUNS)
THE PAST
War has always been a part of her culture, their heritage. After all, the Mandalorian people are not known for being a friendly one. Sabine was raised in war, being only a child when she was conscripted to the Imperial Academy. But when she saw the weapons they created for the Empire being used against their family, she left and was branded a traitor by the Mandalorian people.
For years after that, they worked alongside the crew of the Ghost; Hera Syndulla, Kanan Jarrus (Caleb Dume), Ezra Bridger, Garazeb Orrellios, and the droid Chopper! They worked with this crew to fight against the tyranny of the Empire, and to bring equality and freedom back to the galaxy.
THE PRESENT
Sabine now works loosely with the Rebellion, still coming to terms with the Emperor’s Rift and adapting to the changes it brings with each passing day. They struggle with the genocide of their people, and she carries the survivor’s guilt of being one of the only Mandalorians left in the galaxy. In order to face this trauma, Sabine has decided (with their newfound friend and fellow Mandalorian, Din Djarin, to visit Mandalore and search for answers-- for catharsis. She does what they can in order to help out in the galaxy, trying to mitigate the pain their past actions caused others.
PERSONALITY
Sabine is a free-spirited young Mandalorian with a plethora of spunk and creativity, as well as an inherent refusal to follow instructions she does not believe in. They take pride in their artwork and pyrotechnics, two particular skills she’s very knowledgeable in. She sees the world as a canvas-- something that can always be taken and repaired and made beautiful. They do, however, have much internalized guilt about the role they played in the Empire as a child, especially in the genocide of her people-- something they blame themself for to this day. Sarcastic and as quick-witted as a Wookie is hairy, Sabine is loyal to a fault and will protect those closest to her with all her might.
Artist. Madalorian. Weapons Master. Rebel. "My friends make the impossible possible." // RP account for galacticshq
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