darth malgus & kilran appreciation society

( Born to be a sword. )

( the martyr- )

That's right... it's back...

In light of the server transfers and the influx of so many new people we're kicking off a brand new Kink!Meme. The Grand Kinkmeme is still around don't worry. We just wanted to have a space for all the new anons to come and play.

Ya'll know how this works!

- anon posting only to keep it fun
- if you request something, it would be awesome if you pls filled another request for the love of nic cage
- give people something to work with, not just a pairing?? like... everyone/roy, hot make-outs
- art, fic, banjo serenades and interpretative dance are all welcome
- we are not a serious guild
- did i mention we are not a serious guild?

Keep in mind that most of this will be Not Safe For Work...

Have at it!!

Time to bring this thing back to life!

Welcome welcome new people and welcome back folks who have been away for a while.

Welcome to the SWTORumblr Insane Journal!

With the events of the server merge and the influx of people I thought it would be great if we could get things going over here again. What can we do over here you ask?

WELL....

• Journal Style RP! - Some folks have expressed a lot of interest in kicking off journal response style RP scenes and here is a GREAT place for it! Create a thread - open or closed - and have some fun with your fellow players!
  
• Head Canon Posts! - ALL THE HEADCANON... so we might know who we are hanging out with and their availability for rp fun!
  
• Fan Works- A great place to post stories, poems, pictures, screen shots whatever your heart desires!
• The Illustrious Kink!Meme 2.0 - that's right it's back...and waiting for you anon
• And a ton more!

So here it is, the kick off... from here on out lets see some more activity over here and get the ball rolling!

Force be with you

-Worst Jedi Ever

So you have your character and you have your story... but have you ever thought about how else it might have gone? What would it take to make your lightsider go grey or dark, what coulda ignited a one-color passion in a greysider's heart? Where are your character's limits?

It doesn't matter how far you might have to reach into their pasts or what you set in their future. Break them. Remake them. And tell us about it. You might learn some interesting things along the way.

( "What can I say? The ladies love a hero." )

( Green troopers? LET ME IN! )

So I finally got around to writing something for InsaneJournal! I can't say I'm really proud of what I've got written down but it's something and I've got to get out of this habit of not writing at some point. I also cut it short, so I'll be writing this story in parts whenever I get around to it. Hopefully it isn't too inaccurate with things.

( Read more )

It isn't much but it's something. Enzo could use some buddies or allies or... idk family? He's fresh out the box new and I only know a little bit about him. And blatant entry for taun faun drawing....

ANYWHO!
( Onto the Headcanon! )

Taris.

Something about the whole planet made Xendar shudder with a chill. He could not pinpoint the exact reason, but then, he found there were already enough reasons to feel dread in such a place. Everything in the landscape screamed wasteland, from the dense foliage creeping over the ruins of civilization to the way the bog stank of death and decay. Then there were the rakghouls, the terrible, mutated creations of the Sith, and the rumors of a superweapon fueled by the remains of the long-dead.

Besides, Xendar mused darkly, this is Empire space.

The man had wanted nothing more than to remain clear of Imperial territory, yet duty called; since he'd been nearest to Taris at the time, the Jedi Council had requested he assist the Republic soldiers garrisoned at various outposts with a pirate threat. According to the reports, they'd been raiding supplies and even attacking civilian farms established near the outposts.

What the reports hadn't stated--and what Xendar had been both dismayed and infuriated to discover--was that Republic scouts had spotted a Sith in the pirates' company. Tall and well-built, the file said, with red skin and black hair. A Sith pureblood, the Jedi instantly concluded.

Xendar had taken a speederbike through Republic resettlement territory and now skirted the perimeter, keeping an eye out for pirates or any other suspicious activity. But there was only swamp and swamp and more swamp. Shaking his head to clear away any exhaustion and boredom, he thrust his bike into the next gear and swooped around the foundations of a derelict building, cresting the hill it sat upon for a better vantage point.

A year ago, the rundown building in front of Xendar had been a medcenter. Sure, it hadn't been the most legal business, what with mercenaries, fugitives, smugglers, and street hoodlums coming and going through its doors every day, but it had still been a place where the wounded died or were saved. The old man who run the place had been gruff but fair, and Xendar would be forever grateful that he'd given the runaway an opportunity to earn money for his trip off-world.

But that had been a year ago. Now the graffiti on the outside was chipped and faded, and wooden planks covered the windows to prevent unwanted trespass. The front door was sealed shut, its lock melted so the metal held fast.

Drawing a lightsaber from his belt, Xendar stepped toward the door. The blade shone blue when he ignited it, filling the dark and abandoned street with a brilliant glow. The Jedi cut through the door with ease, carving out a hole big enough for him to enter if he ducked his head. Once finished, he switched off his lightsaber, belted it, and kicked the debris away. From where he stood, he could peek inside, but only darkness greeted him.

He took a deep breath and stepped through.

Roy couldn't relax.

He cracked his knuckles again, rolling his shoulders out in a futile attempt to ease his tense muscles. Sleep had eluded him for a few days now, and it was beginning to show; there were heavy bags under his bloodshot eyes, his stubble looked more haggard than usual, and he lamely dragged his feet as he paced back and forth across the room. The bounty hunter's voice still rang clear in his ears - tossing around his brother's name like he had the right, speaking about Roy like his life was some book he could open up and read - and unfortunately no needle had been able to flush that face or those words out of his mind, as hard as Roy had tried. When that didn't work, in a moment of weakness Roy had done something he was certain he'd come to regret.

He'd asked Zemire to come over.

Not that he didn't enjoy the Mirialan's company; Roy liked the time he spent with Zemire, but telling him they had to meet, that it had to be Roy's ship and that it was about something important seemed heavy-handed in hindsight and Roy felt the familiar, nauseous twinge of regret gnaw at his stomach. Roy's ship was docked now, his droid attending the door while Roy waited in the lounge, stewing in his growing anxiety. Zemire would be here soon.

Some moderately high ranking Imperial officer was trading information to the Republic and Mitch's job was to make sure they died for their betrayal. It wasn't that he had any great love for the Empire - no, that certainly wasn't the case at all. More importantly, Mitch had a reputation to uphold as the guy that the Empire (or anyone else, for that matter) could count on to get the job done. He took the job and he wanted that to mean for any employer that it was as good as already taken care of.

( Read more... )

Matt had been staring at the height of the sun outside his window for what could have very well been eternity for all he knew before he even realized he was awake. It dawned on him then why he was so mesmerized by the midday sun - it wasn't a view he often saw from his bed. The Ungovernables didn't give him much time for naps and he'd practically forgotten what his bedroom at the headquarters actually looked like in the sunlight. He was always up before the break of day and always in bed long after the sun had fallen. The next thing he noticed was a headache that seemed to become more persistent the longer he remained aware of it.

( Read more... )

And another head-canon post featuring my newest in the guild lineup.

( What I want? What I want is a big fortune, a nice cruiser, and a couple hundred handsome guys to fly it for me and warm my bed. )

Timeline: Pre-game.
Summary: Shortly after arriving at the Jedi Temple, Xendar entered a duel with Oswen in front of the entire Academy... and used Force lightning. The next day, he goes to find the other padawan to apologize.

( Read more... )

The outpost was quiet this time of evening; the sun had already begun to set, and most of the soldiers and workers had filed off to attend their duties (or whatever it was that the Republic did on Voss, Roy was never entirely sure). He hadn’t planned on spending the evening in the outpost – he’d hoped to be back in Voss-Ka by now, getting drunk in that sorry excuse for a cantina, but the job he'd taken with Sinnan had taken longer than expected and the last transport for a few hours had already left.

Instead Roy sat hunched forward on a plain metal crate, absentmindedly rolling a pant leg up to inspect a scrape he'd received dodging some Gormak's blow. At least Voss had nice weather; his jacket afforded him just the right level of comfort, and there was something crisp about the outdoor Voss air, Roy would even venture so far as to say it was refreshing.

“Looks like we’ll be here for a bit,” the man glanced at Sinnan and smirked before dropping his gaze, “least you're stuck with my pleasant company.”

Hoth's shuttle bays never really kept out the cold. Zemire was fine in his temperature-regulated military armor, but he wasn't so sure that Sinnan was faring any better. They sat a little apart from each other on a rickety metal bench awaiting the shuttle. Ciely and Stahnis were supposed to meet them for separate reasons; it just so happened that they planned to gather in the same outpost.

No one else loitered in the waiting room. Most of the people in the outpost were soldiers stationed on Hoth, and they were busy with their own tasks, leaving the two Mirialans alone. A tense silence had reigned between them for the past ten minutes that has grown more and more obvious as time passed.

Zemire had finally had enough of it. Without looking at Sinnan, he said evenly, "So Ciely is your little sister?"

Nar Shaddaa

Hub of the neutral universe. Center of all vice and sin. Any pleasure that could possibly be had could be found somewhere on the moon. For a price. You could pay with money. You could pay with time. A body, some Spice, or a pretty trinket could do you well if something else didn’t work. The right things though… the perfect things… were truly priceless.

( Read more... )

[Try to keep it coordinated, feel free to pop in!]