mordacitatis
Of Beginnings and the Names of Things
Some texts are born literary, some achieve literariness, and some have literariness thrust upon them ~ Terry Eagleton
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If you were to play your Anakin's sibling OC in a D&D game, what class would you choose?
This is such a good question that I had to call my friend @quantim on the phone who knows far more about Star Wars than I do (which is to say, I know nothing at all).
He asked me questions to get me actually thinking about this godforsaken Star Wars oc I made up when I was six years old.
What I included in the original post is 100% all I remember about her and probably all I ever developed for her in the first place because I was so young. That said, I want to keep to the spirit of child me, so I tried to think of the character the way I would have back then.
So Tim asked me some good questions just now like:
1. She was abandoned and denied the chance to train with the Force. Does she reject her latent talent or embrace it as a tool?
She definitely embraces it because it gives her an edge to accomplish her revenge plot.
2. Is she more of a mind-fighter or a martial fighter?
As a kid I was far more obsessed with light saber battles than any of the force throws., so we’re going with martial.
We considered Sorcerer as a class, which seems obvious. Latent Force abilities & potential goes well with the idea of bloodline magic.
We tossed around Ranger, because she developed extreme & unusual survival skills in her own to ultimately get off Tatooine and now she’s using those skills to obsessively track someone.
But ultimately we went with Warlock, and my friend suggested a Pact of the Tome Warlock.
I asked him to text it to me & I’m just going to copy+paste what he wrote:
“Pact of the tome warlock—you’ve tapped into a power beyond what a small child could comprehend, maybe a visiting collector or even an errant sith (darth maul hunting padme) dropped a holocron you found.
Your patron is the “great old one” malevolent dark side of the force that seeks to corrupt you and all the beings you meet.
You’ve learned a few neat tricks that help you survive—small force powers like minor telekinesis and sound tricks from the holocron, but a small, innocent part of you is reluctant to rely on it.”
Anyway, now that I’m thinking in terms of her as a DnD character, I might as well name her. I used the fantasy names generator set to Star Wars and picked out Tamet Nalle, and I thought, “oh I bet that’s the name of some character in an old folk story/song she’s obsessed with and she just uses the name and hopes no one else knows it.”
And then I realized that’s literally what Flynn Ryder did in Tangled.
But I’m sticking with it anyway.
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can i gnaw a hole into your chest cavity and live inside of it or do i need to wait for the second date
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i'm sorry but this is the only submission to this trend that i'll consider giving any thought to
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ppl irl know me as a weird fag but they dont even know how weird and faggy i can get
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astarion asks tav to describe the scars on his back and tav gets a piece of copy paper and a crayon and does one of those leaf rubbings
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You know what? Fuck it.
The amount of notes that this post gets by the end of April is the amount of words I'll write for one of my books.
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This is a nice sign to look at. 10/10 for composition.
he looks so confident
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does anyone want to have a concerning power dynamic with me
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many ways to read this and all are good
puts his arm around everyone as an excuse to put his arm around daphne
puts his arm around members of his polycule
he just loves his friends a lot
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Throwback to when I took painkillers and woke up with Photoshop open on my computer to this image I had made
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at least there are pansies and fairies and faggots and dykes and transsexuals on this earth. thank god.
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i know my ass is up too late because i’m losing my fucking mind over accidentally typing george of the gungle
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As I gaze at the structural column in Copley Station, cracked nearly in two and held together with zip ties that have been carefully painted over to match the column underneath, I feel my soul intertwined with that of a small Italian boy of days gone by, who also stopped to look up at a large, groaning, newly painted tank full of molasses
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