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dredreadsdrawing · 4 years

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Oc-Tober Day 16: Palette

my tablet annoys me but i continue to draw with it :,o oof.

I used this Palette day for my other beloved DnD oc. Reir the bastard half-elf rogue from a prestigious elf-mafia lolol. Thank goodness I had already wrote her backstory in a word dock like, in February XD Augh writing one bigass story is enough for today. Here it is:

Reir is a half-elf. She was born from the daughter of the biggest elf-run criminal organization, and a poor young farmer. Whilst on the run, her mother was injured and almost died, but Reir’s father found and saved her. They fell in love while she recovered, but she was picked up quickly by her brother and taken back to their city base.

She missed the farm and countryside, so she’d sneak to visit her love secretly for years. When her father and brother found out, they freaked. A lowly, much younger human was no worthy life-companion for their rose. After losing Reir’s grandmother, they became incredibly overprotective of her because of her, and this situation was no exception. They put her under house-arrest and threatened the farmer with violence.

After years of tolerating their suffocating doting, she couldn’t handle any more. She broke out and ran to him. He agreed to running away with her, to start over somewhere else. Things were going well along their travels, until they hit an impasse and were ambushed. Her love was killed in front of her eyes. She was taken back to be a bird in their cage, her will to fight now extinguished.

A month later, her pregnancy was diagnosed. Her brother was the only one to find out along with her, and before he could report it to his father, she pleaded to keep it a secret. She wanted to keep the child; she had a new reason to live. He gave in and helped her hide it from their father, unknowingly assisting her in her last attempt to escape as well.

She ran away again, planning to get her child away from their overbearing crime life, but she had waited for too long to put her plan into play. She started giving birth mid-way into her travel, stuck somewhere alone with no help for miles. By the time her family found her, her brother forced to tell his father the secret, she was dead, her child wrapped around her arms and kicking fussily.

Her father was in despair. He punished her brother severely, blaming him for her death, while also dropping the baby to be his responsibility. He refused her legitimacy. He had plans to expand their territory and claims, but died soon after the incident, rumors floating that he took his life from the grief. Now the brother was alone as the head of the family, stuck with a baby without a family name.

He planned to abandon her to an orphanage, thought there was no place for a child in his life. But her likeness to her mother outweighed her likeness to her father, and he couldn’t go through. He ended up dumping her to two of his subordinates; a half-orc and another half-elf. She was to live in seclusion at the top floor of their base.

He was an absent father figure to her. He’d visit rarely and briefly just to overlook her education. He saw the job of raising her as a lower priority, put his duties as the leader of the organization above all else. To quiet her every time she acted out of line, he would punish her the same way his father would his sister; he’d lock her in a quiet, dark room. Instead of taking the punishment meekly and learning to be good, she took it as a challenge and rebelled from everything he threw at her.

She grew picking up the worst habits. If she wanted something, she’d no longer ask for it. Stealing was easier and more fun. If she wanted to know what others were doing, she’d simply follow them; she trained herself to be quiet and stealthy. Because she was constantly thrown into the room, she learned to hide things in her clothing and body, to pick locks, to adjust to the darkness quickly and to climb from ledges half an inch thick. As a child, she was a nuisance. As a teenager, she was a menace. As a newly fledged adult, she was an outright criminal working outside of her uncle’s interests and solely for her own.

When she became of age, she thought he would finally induct her into the gang, but that day never came. He assured her she would never be a part of them and gave her a list of reasons why. She took it ‘in slide’; if he didn’t want her, it was his loss. She went crazy with her crimes, never thinking of the consequences, or of the mess she’d leave behind. She could always run back to the comfort of the organization’s name even when she wasn’t a part of it.

She was giving their business a bad reputation. If he couldn’t control his own brat, how could he keep his subordinates in check? Contacts began pulling back, the city law enforcement was asking for bigger bribes, everything was going to shit. Her uncle was done covering for her, and he gave her a final threat. He told her no more tricks, no more stunts, no more getting out of the house. She would be a good girl, or she would be disowned completely. He wasn’t playing around. She nodded along, but rationalized his anger as stemming from her debt. So she just needed to pay everything back huh? As soon as he left, she planned her biggest scam.

She stole millions from the mayor, not knowing he was already under the gang’s thumb. She stored the money in the organization’s vault, and proudly paraded her deed. She was called to her uncle’s office, and she prepared herself for her induction. She dressed in her finest, prepared a beaming smile. She opened the door, going into a speech about how it was finally time for her to make her grand entrance, but one look at her uncle’s face shut her up. She smiled awkwardly, trying to get a rise out of him. What, no hug? A high five? Her uncle raised his hand. Excited, she made to move towards him, but was immediately knocked out by henchmen behind her.

Without a word of farewell, she was shipped far away, dumped across the world with a two day stay at an inn, a dagger, and a bag of coins. She woke up confused and without even a note of explanation. She was alone, and cut off.

Extra info:

The half-orc and half-elf truly love her and treat her like their daughter. Her difficult relationship with her uncle was the root of her bad behaviorism though, and they felt powerless as they watched her fall into more and more hopeless tries for his attention. When she was shipped, they were heartbroken. They were never told of her final threat or how it happened, they were simply fired from their job as ‘nannies’, and reinstated in grunt work. They hold a grudge against her uncle and fully plan on escaping the organization to look for her.

To further explain her bad behavior from her uncle’s perspective: Her mother was a model-obedient girl type. She was an angel who always did what she was told (until she fell in love.) She had been kind, patient, and loving; the perfect sister and the perfect woman in her uncle’s eyes. Her daughter though, was the worst. She was a brat, rebellious, selfish, overconfident, and had zero regard for others.

Her nannies could see where all of these negative properties stemmed from as she grew. She became rebellious as a form of getting his attention, she’s self-centered because she was never taught to work in a team and never even had any friends, and she’s overconfident because she’s learned a lot from what she considers the best criminals. However, her uncle never spent much time with her at all. He never truly got to know her, and never had one on one conversations with her about herself. He was only ever around long enough to see the bad, never stuck around to figure out the good.

She was extremely caring towards her two father figures, the half-orc and half-elf. She’s clever and an extremely quick-learner; gifted in everything she put her mind to. She was determined to the point of being naïve; she always believed even when she pretended she didn’t need it, that her uncle would open up and accept her one day if she did a job big enough. She’s also super optimistic. She never lets anyone or anything bring her down, and has never let herself get depressed. She’s smart enough to get through anything; her overconfidence always shone through.

I’m uh, making some quick stuff for oc-tober lol. im sooooooooo behind :,o but i managed to get semi-caught up..... tomorrow ill have to do today’s theme lol Im jsut abit too depressed today :(

#oc #oc-tober #dnd #dnd rogue #dnd oc #dnd half elf #half elf #reir #digital art #digital sketches #elf #elves #half elves

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spoon-writes · 4 years

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Ends of the Earth | Chapter 18

Fandom: The Mandalorian

Pairing: Mando x OC

Read on FFN or AO3

Summary: When Sinead's husband is ripped from her, she escapes the Hutt Empire and goes on a quest to find him. Since being a runaway slave in the Outer Rim isn't exactly easy, she makes the Mandalorian an offer he can't refuse, and soon they travel across the galaxy looking for her missing husband.

Chapter index

Chapter 18 - Bad Company

Sinead sat down in the belly of the Razor Crest, turning the Loovrian emblem over and over, as if she just turned it for long enough, it would somehow give her the answer she needed. She should be angry. She wanted to be angry, but all she felt was a numbness, cold and empty as the void that hurtled past outside the ship.

The quiet of the ship was only broken up by the hum from the engine and the occasional sound from the child who slept in his crib.

The emblem was heating up between her fingers. She ran a thumb across one of the force pikes, gnawing at her lip. A small but insistent thought kept popping up, unbidden: what if that little emblem had stayed hidden on Celvalara and they'd never gone to Loovria. Would the trail have gone cold? Would she have kept searching until finally one day she'd just give up? Hand over the whip to Mando for service rendered and just ... stopped?

Her long train of thought was shattered when someone cleared their throat. Mando stood by the ladder to the cockpit, fiddling with his gauntlet. They hadn't talked since Seavo. Her little outburst made her toes curl in embarrassment.

"I, uh ..." his voice was rougher than usual. "I know someone who might have information on Vekkass."

Sinead slipped the emblem into her pocket and sat up straighter. "Who?"

"He's a former ... associate. Works out of a station in the Tammuz sector."

Associate was a carefully neutral word and could really mean anything. Still, it wasn't like they had anything better to go on.

"It's not Guild," he said, interpreting her silence as reluctance. "And we're running low on credits. Ship's nearly out of fuel."

She hadn't even noticed that, too caught up in her own thoughts. "Sure. Why not," she said and let her eyes wander to the sleeping kid, who made a little gurgling sound at the back of his throat.

Mando stayed there, his head slightly tilted to the side like he wanted to say something. The silence stretched out between them, neither one wanting to break it. At last, Mando nodded once and climbed up the ladder, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

She pulled out the emblem and started turning it.

... ... ... ... ...

The ship dropped out of hyperspace with a lurch and a dull boom. Straight ahead the space station was a small blinking light amidst the stars, easy to miss unless you knew what you were looking for. Sinead breathed out, her stomach already in knots of nerves.

"You should stay in the ship," Mando said, not taking his eyes off the slowly approaching station.

"Why? I thought you knew these people."

He sighed and was quiet for a couple of seconds. "Ran and I used to work together. A long time ago. He always kept an eye on the underworld."

She leaned further into her seat, trying to dispel the still growing feeling of foreboding. "Let's hope he's kept an eye on this one. And what does he want you to do in return?"

"He said he had a job."

"Right. So why do you want me to hide in the ship."

"It's just ... easier to do it this way. I don't want the kid mixed into all of this."

Sinead looked at the child who sat in his little seat, the Mandalorian doll clamped under one arm. That made sense. If it was up to her, none of them would go anywhere near the station.

"Okay. I'll do it if you keep a comlink on you. I want to know what's going on."

"Fine." The word came out as a sigh. He led her down into the hull and told her to crawl onto the bunk. Once she'd folded her legs on the thin mattress, he placed the kid on her lap.

“I'm pretty sure that if someone looks inside, they're gonna see me."

Mando stepped back and touched a small keypad on the side of the bed, and metal panels slid down with a whir, cutting her off from the rest of the ship. It wasn't a bed. It was a safe room. Only faint light found a way through minuscule cracks along the otherwise solid hatch. She pressed a hand against the cold surface.

"It won't be long." Mando's voice was muffled through the thick barrier. She could hear him return to the cockpit.

The kid looked up at her and babbled softly, his eyes unfathomably deep and much wiser than a small child had any business being.

“Won’t be long,” Sinead mumbled and closed her eyes.

A shudder and creak went through the ship as it touched down on the station. Once Mando had left the ship, Sinead turned on the comlink and held it up to her ear, closing her eyes as if dimming one sense would strengthen another.

“…ando.” A faint voice came through the comlink. “…at you under that bucket?”

“Ran.” Mando sounded guarded.

“…know if I'd ever see you...” The voice kept falling out, and Sinead pressed the comlink harder against her ear, screwing her eyes tightly shut. “…surprised when you reached out to me. You know, cause I … I hear things…between you and the Guild aren't working out.”

She jumped when Mando’s voice exploded out of the comlink.

“I’m not working with the Guild on this one. I need some information.”

“Might be able to help…” there was a long silence where she thought Mando might have turned off the commlink. And then, “…after the job.”

Sinead’s hand clenched into a fist on her thigh. Of course, it would never be that easy. From the snippets heard through the comlink, they were going to need the ship. It was hard following what was happening, but it sounded like Mando was being introduced to the rest of the team. Her heart skipped a beat when one of them turned out to be an ex-Imperial. It wasn’t like she had never associated with criminals, and her past wasn’t squeaky clean either, but the combination of criminal and ex-Imperial sounded like a recipe for disaster.

The more she listened, the more it dawned on her that she didn’t know Mando, not really, even though they had been traveling together for quite some time. She didn't even know his real name. She had never asked him.

“I thought you said you had four,” Mando said.

“He does.” This voice was new, sounding feminine and husky at the same time.

“Xi’an.” Mando sounded guarded.

This Xi’an moved closer, her voice becoming clearer. “Tell me why I shouldn't cut you down where you stand?”

Sinead’s hand closed around her blaster until she realized with a sinking feeling that she didn’t know how to get out of there. For some reason, she had allowed someone to lock her in a tiny box without a second thought.

“Nice to see you too,” Mando said in an even voice, proving that she had not cut him down.

Xi’an spoke again, her voice so loud she must have been standing right on top of Mando. “I missed you,” she purred.

Missed Mando?

“This is shiny. You wear it well.”

"Do we need to leave the room or something?" Another voice. Maybe Mayfeld?

"Well, Xi'an's been a little heartbroken since Mando left our group," said Ran.

What?

"Aww. You gonna be okay, sweetheart?"

"I'm all business now. Learned from the best."

"All right, lovebirds. Break it up till you get on the ship. Right now, we don't have much time."

Sinead turned the comlink off just in time before someone made their way into the ship. Every step they took clanged through the ship. It was either a droid or someone wearing shoes with metal soles. She pulled out her blaster and laid it out of reach of the kid but close enough that she could grab it in seconds.

"We sure this thing even flies?" A voice said suddenly, close to the safe room.

"S'worse than I remember," Xi'an said. "Never thought about getting an upgrade, Mando?"

There was a grunt of laughter, which cut off abruptly when the ship started up again. Something heavy moved around just outside the safe room.

"Scared of flying, big guy?" Mayfeld said.

A deep voice rumbled out, "shut it." So that was Burg.

"Will you sit. Down," A female voice ground out. Xi’an.

There was a bang when something slammed against the side of the ship, and then the sound of shuffling feet right outside the safe room. Sinead swallowed thickly.

"Hey, hey, hey," Mayfeld said. "I get it. I'm a little particular about my personal space, too, so let's just do this job. We get in, we get out, and you don't have to see our faces anymore.”

“Someone tell me why we even need a Mandalorian?”

Mayfeld said, “Well, apparently they're the greatest warriors in the galaxy. So they say.”

“Then why are they all dead?”

That triggered a tittering of laughter across the hull. Sinead's grip on her blaster tightened until her knuckles were white.

“Well, you flew with him, Xi'an,” Mayfeld continued, oblivious or indifferent to the tension that Sinead could feel all the way through the thick metal plates. “Is he as good as they say?”

“Ask him about the job on Alzoc III.”

Sinead had thought that Mando wouldn't reply, but to her surprise, he said, "I did what I had to."

Images of what he might have ‘had to’ flashed through her mind.

“Oh, but you liked it. See, I know who you really are.”

“He never takes off the helmet?” Mayfeld asked.

Xi’an squeaked out another laugh. “This is the way,” her voice was a deep mockery of Mando’s. Sinead had to ask him about that later.

“Hmm ... I wonder what you look like under there. Maybe he's a Gungan. Is that why yousa don't wanna show your face? You ever seen his face?”

“A lady ... never tells.”

There was a new, malicious quality to Mayfeld’s voice. “Aw, come on, Mando. We all gotta trust each other here. You gotta show us something. Come on, just lift the helmet up. Come on. Let's all see your eyes.”

Sinead’s heart was pounding.

Burg let out a bark of laughter. “I’ll do it.”

There were sounds of fighting and then—

The safe room opened with a whoosh. Sinead's hand shook as instincts screamed to draw her blaster, and the logical part of her brain screamed that she shouldn't start a firefight with the child on her lap. Logic won out in the end.

A bald human jumped to his feet. "Who the hell are you?" So that was Mayfeld. "Mando, who the hell is she?"

Beside him, a purple-skinned Twi'lek appeared, spinning a throwing knife around her finger and staring intently at the newly revealed Sinead. Two filed canines poked out over her lower lip; it was the first time Sinead had seen a female Twi'lek with filed teeth. "How interesting," she purred. Xi'an. That just left Burg, who turned out to be a huge Devaronian even by Devaronian standards.

Slowly, Sinead got to her feet while holding the child tightly against her chest. Mando had frozen in place, and

"You get lonely up here, buddy?" Mayfeld looked her up and down, and Sinead wanted to crawl back into the safe room and close it up. She barely managed to repress a recoil.

"I hired the Mandalorian to take me to Neth safely. There are so many unsavory types in the Outer Rim." She didn’t take her eyes off Mayfeld.

The kid made a small sound.

"What is that?" Mayfeld walked closer to get a better look at the child. "Is it like a pet or something?"

"Yeah. Something like that," Mando said quietly. Hands balled into fists at his side, his helmeted face had been trained on Sinead ever since the safe room had opened.

"My, my," Xi'an said, moving across the floor in a fluid motion to stand in Mando's space, tilting her head to look at him through her lashes. "Pets and damsels in distress. Didn’t think you were the type. Has that code of yours made you soft?”

Mando stood silent and still as a statue, the blank helmet an intimidating sight, but Xi'an didn't seem to worry. A smirk spread across her face.

Sinead hadn’t noticed Mayfeld before he was too close and reaching out for the child, a sort of cold curiosity in his eyes. She moved back without thinking, hitting the side of the bunk.

"What, don't wanna let me hold it?" He did not try to take the kid again but kept standing uncomfortably close. "You think I'm gonna hurt it or something?"

You wouldn’t hesitate.

“How do you know he won’t hurt you? He might bite.”

Mayfeld bared his teeth in a smile. Suddenly, his hand shot out and nearly grabbed the child. Both Sinead and Mando flinched, and the hull was filled with laughter.

"Relax," Mayfeld said, finally stepping back. "I'm starting to think you might be hiding something."

Sinead forced herself to breathe slowly, meeting his eyes calmly, coldly.

A disembodied metallic voice filled the hull. “Dropping out of hyperspace. Now.” The ship shook as it dropped back into the real dimension. Sinead sat down on the bunk, holding tightly on to the kid, who giggled softly in her arms. This was Tatooine all over again.

When it seemed like the ship had evened out, Sinead got to her feet again.

“Commencing final approach. Now. Cloaking signal. Now.”

Without further warning, the ship flipped sideways. It felt like the gravity generator had malfunctioned. Sinead was lifted off her feet, weightless for a moment, before she was slammed into the side of the ship with a bruising force, biting her tongue in the process.

"Engaging coupling. Now."

The ship swerved one last time before landing on a solid surface, the resulting boom more felt than heard.

"Coupling confirmed. We are down. And relax."

Sinead unfurled from her awkward fetal position that had saved the kid from being thrown clean across the hull and stood. Her shoulder, the one that got acquainted with the metal wall, throbbed. She looked up to see Mando watching her, giving her a single inconspicuous nod.

"Commence extraction. Now."

Xi'an got to her feet with a snarl. "That useless droid didn't even give us a proper countdown!"

Burg threw two crates across the floor with a grunt. The kid jumped when they crashed to the ground, and she bit her already bleeding tongue hard not to snap at the Devaronian.

"Zee," Mayfeld called up to the cockpit, "you sure they can't see us?"

The voice warbled out again, "the Razor Crest is scrambling our signature, and I'm inside the prison system. It's impressive that this gunship has survived the Empire without being impounded."

They were breaking into a prison? Sinead let out a long breath and stared hard at Mando, who once again was an impregnable statue. Before Sinead could ask, he was called away to hack the hatch to the prison. She hadn't felt the telltale rumble of the ship going through the atmosphere, which meant they were still in space.

Xi'an bounced lightly on the balls of her feet while watching Mando work. Her dark eyes glittered in the sudden light when the hatch opened to a sterile white hallway that seemed blinding in the perpetual dimly lit Crest.

One after one, the temporary crew dropped through the hatch until only Mando was left. He turned towards her. "Keep an eye on the droid." His voice was low and tight. "Don't let it see the kid. This is a New Republic prison transport, be ready to leave in a hurry."

"Be careful." It came out as an awkward croak and she shifted the child to another arm to avoid his eyes.

Mando climbed down the hatch, and Sinead closed her eyes for a second before placing the kid in the safe room. "You'll be safer in there," she whispered to the little guy. His ears lifted, which she took as a sign of understanding and pressed the button to shut the safe room tight.

It was strange seeing a droid in Mando's seat, watching the monitor with the kind of rapt yet detached attention that only a droid could have. She recognized it as a protocol droid, made to translate and serve. It had no inbuilt weapons, which explained the blaster rifle leaning against the chair.

The droid turned when she appeared in the doorway. “You are not supposed to be here.”

Sinead didn’t bat an eye at the droid’s lack of manners; having spent any time in the Outer Rim, it wasn’t the first droid with wonky programming she’d met. “And yet here I am.”

The droid stared at her for an uncomfortable amount of time before turning wordlessly back to the screen.

She stood behind it, watching the four red dots make their way through the facility. The droid guided them down corridors towards the control room, all the while completely ignoring her presence.

This was the second time in a very short period that Sinead had sat useless in the ship, trying to piece together what was happening from scratchy soundbites and the jumbled screen. It was clear that everything did not go according to plan.

"It seems your presence has been detected. Redirecting security alert away from your position," the droid said as the screen flashed red.

Sinead grabbed the back of the pilot chair so hard the metal cut into her hand.

“Zee, open the door!” came Mayfeld’s voice through the commlink.

“I'm detecting an organic signature,” the droid said. A fifth red dot had appeared on the screen.

“Yeah, okay, all right. Just open the door!”

A new wave of uselessness wrenched her gut as she stood there listening to Mando trying to talk a lone guard down. It was hard to parse what happened precisely, but the end was all too clear: the guard died, and with that shit hit the fan.

"Idiots," Sinead hissed between her teeth, watching the screen with unblinking eyes as if she could somehow reach in and smack whoever was responsible for bringing down the New Republic on their heads. There was a big difference between a jailbreak and a jailbreak that left a corpse behind.

An alarm blared through the ship, making Sinead jump.

The droid adjusted its scomp link, and the alarm fell silent.

"Zero to Mayfeld. Zero to Mayfeld," it droned. "I detected a New Republic distress signal homing in on your location. You have approximately 20 minutes."

Was that really enough time to get out of there? A million scenarios whirled through her head, adding to the feeling of dread that followed her like a shadow.

Zero suddenly rose from the pilot seat, and Sinead took a step back, giving the bug-eyed droid a guarded look. “What are you-“

It swung its metal arm at her face.

She reacted instinctively, throwing up a hand to catch it. The force knocked her off her feet; she landed on the floor with a loud thud, letting out a sharp cry as her bruised shoulder was wrenched into an unnatural angle.

Sinead let out a feral snarl, trying to get to her feet while pushing Zero away. The droid pushed her down with strength it shouldn't have possessed.

"Do not resist," it said in its calm, metallic voice. A hand came out of nowhere and whacked her on the head.

Ears ringing, head throbbing, she flailed blindly against it.

Zero's vice-like grip closed around her wrists, and she kicked against it, screaming, spitting. Before she could wriggle away, he wrapped a thin binding wire around her wrists and fastened it to a metal bar under the seat.

“Fuck you!” She kicked wildly, trying to trip the droid, do something, but he ignored her, taking her blaster and sitting back in the pilot seat.

The droid ignored her. There was a whirring sound when it turned its scomp link, and a translucent figure appeared above the dashboard. The blue light reflected on Zero’s metal body, and Sinead lifted her head to see the recording.

"M-Man-M-Mando-o-o." The projection flickered and skipped, the image stretching in strange contortions. Sinead didn't recognize the human, but something told her he was bad news. "Mando, I received-received your tra-transmission. U-upon your return, deliver-liver the quarry directly to the client."

Cold dread washed over Sinead, wrenching a hollow gasp from her chest.

"Interesting," Zero turned off the transmission.

"No." It took a second for Sinead to realize she had said it out loud. Her voice shook. "If you touch a single hair on his head, I'll-"

Mayfeld's voice filled the cockpit. "Zero, we got Qin. Mando's done."

Done? As in …

"I found some information on the Mandalorian from the Bounty Hunters' Guild," the droid said.

With renewed energy, Sinead tried getting free, but the thin wire held, cutting a red line into her wrist; the pain was dulled by fear and adrenaline. The edges of her vision blurred.

"Yeah yeah, do whatever. Just get us off this ship."

"I have neutralized the human. What shall I do with her?"

"I don't give a shit, Zee! Shoot her in the fucking head, just get rid of her!"

The droid turned and looked at her. "Affirmative. You have 10 minutes remaining."

Zero stood, pulling its blaster rifle with a fluid, mechanical motion. It stepped around the pilot seat and towered above her.

The rifle clicked, loud as a cannon.

Everything faded into shadow, even the sound of blood rushing in her ears.

She closed her eyes.

Nothing happened.

After an eternity, she chanced a peek.

The monitor was trilling a steady stream of beeps. Zero had moved back to the pilot seat.

The world screeched to a halt. She released a shuttering breath.

"Zero to Mayfeld," the droid said. "You have a potential problem. He has escaped."

At first, Sinead didn't believe her own ears. He had escaped? Mando wasn't dead?

A hysterical giggle bubbled to the surface, and she shook with adrenaline. They were so fucked.

Relief soured into cold fear when the child appeared in the doorway, tilting his head with a curious stare. He seemed impossibly small standing alone on the floor.

Go! Sinead mouthed, trying to nudge him back with her foot.

Zero hadn't noticed him. "Zero to Mayfeld. Mayfeld, do you copy?" White noise came from the comm, and the monitor faded into static. "It seems comms are no longer functioning, therefore, you cannot hear me. You are on your own."

Please, go! If she thought it loud enough, maybe the kid would hear it.

He did not. Instead, he smiled toothily at Sinead and cooed softly. Her heart stopped when Zero turned around.

"Curious," it said in its flat voice, turning to grab its rifle that lay across the dashboard.

"No!" The scream ripped from Sinead's mouth. The edge of her vision blackened until there was only the droid.

Zero stood and froze. Sinead craned her neck back to see that the child had disappeared back into the ship, and she let out a shuddering breath. Zero stepped over her and jumped down the hatch, leaving her alone in the cockpit.

Frantically, she started pulling with all her might, the wire biting farther into her skin.

She looked around, blinking sweat out of her eyes, searching for something, anything, that could help, when her eyes fell on a small black instrument lying on the console—a fusing pen.

A dull thud rose from the hull and spurred her into action; rolling onto her shoulder with a grunt, she contorted her body in ways it wasn't meant to do. Tears welled up in her eyes as her muscles spasmed. It felt like she was being torn in two.

Her flailing foot caught the instrument, and it clattered to the ground. Rolling onto her side, she pushed it closer until she could grab it from the floor with her mouth, finally dropping it into her waiting hand.

The pen came to life, and she nearly dropped it as it burned through the wire, leaving circular burns on her wrist.

The binding wire fell away and with it every last coherent thought in Sinead's brain. She scrambled to her feet and stumbled out of the cockpit, shoulders heaving with every pant. Numbly, she grabbed a warped length of pipe forgotten on the floor and dropped into the hull.

The safe room opened just as her feet hit the ground. Time slowed.

She swung the pipe with both hands, and the droid’s bulbous eyes exploded in a shower of glass, knocking it to the ground.

It raised its hand. "Do not-"

She brought the pipe down, again and again. A strangled scream tore from her chest as she smashed through the metal shell, exposing wires and circuitry. Foul-smelling oil leaked onto the floor.

A burst of sparks crawled up the droid's broken body, and with that, its lights went out.

The pipe slid out of her hands and landed on the floor with a dull thud.

Mando was watching her silently, standing by the open hatch. After a long moment, he took a deep breath.

The floor spun. With every breath Sinead’s shoulders heaved like she had run a marathon.

A slight babble broke the silence. The kid watched her, head tilted to the side, ears lifted in earnest curiosity.

"It's okay." She picked him up with hands that still shook. "It's over." It was more for her benefit than his.

Someone hoisted themselves into the ship from the hatch and stood, a Twi'lek male with the same purple skin. He was built like a tank, his barrel-like chest seeming larger under a dirty tank top. "Can't say I missed this hunk of junk." His voice was like sandpaper, and when his eyes fell on Sinead and the broken husk of Zero, he flashed a pointy-toothed smile.

"Where's the others?" Her voice was surprisingly even, considering her entire body still strummed with adrenaline.

"Later," Mando ground out. He lifted the child out of her arms, never turning his back on the Twi’lek, whose, Sinead realized, hands were bound with thick durasteel manacles. She touched her wrist where the binding wire had cut deep into the soft skin.

"Keep an eye on him," Mando said in a low voice. "Do not trust him."

She nodded once, feeling the aftereffects of the adrenaline start to kick in. Her legs felt weak, and every sound was dulled but somehow still echoed in her head.

Mando and the child disappeared up the ladder, and the ship broke off from the transport. Sinead picked up Zero’s blaster rifle and propped it against her leg.

"So you hate droids just as much as old Mando up there?" He said, looking pointedly at the jagged metal remains of Zero.

She stared at him.

He narrowed his eyes. "What was that little green thing? Didn't look like nothing I've seen before."

“Pet.”

"You're almost as talkative as Mando." He leaned his head back against the fall, still not taking his eyes off her. "Wanna know how I ended up rotting on a prison transport."

"Guess you're gonna tell me either way."

The Twi'lek bared his pointed teeth in a grin. "Mando up there-" he pointed upwards with his bound hands- "left me behind to get picked up by those kriffin' New Republic bastards. Threw me in a cage without even a proper trial. Now he's left my only sister to the same fate. That ain't right." He didn't seem too torn up about it. "That's what Mando does. He leaves people behind."

"Everyone has their reasons."

The Twi'lek's eyes darkened. "He has his code, always do the job. Load of shit."

The ship exited hyperspace, and Sinead breathed a sigh of relief. Nauseating pain radiated through her head, and she wanted this stranger off the ship.

The Crest landed, and Mando jumped down the ladder without the child. Sinead watched with mistrustful eyes as Mando freed the Twi'lek, who made a show of rubbing his wrists once the bindings fell away.

The ramp came down and revealed a human man with unruly grey hair and beard. His beady eyes narrowed when he spotted Sinead leaning against the opening.

When the Twi'lek saw Ran, he let out a gruff laugh and sauntered down the ramp. Mando followed behind him, walking stiffly like he was a spring ready to be released, and Sinead imagined him scanning the hangar for danger.

"Where are the others?" Asked Ran, scanning the ship as if he expected the rest of the crew to come running down the ramp.

"No questions asked. That's the policy, right?"

Ran bared his teeth, more sneer than smirk. "Yeah. That is the policy."

"I did the job."

"Yeah, you did," Ran said, pulling out a pouch with deliberate slowness and throwing it to Mando, who caught it easily.

"And the information you promised me?"

"What's he talking about?" The Twi'lek said.

Ran's eyes flickered to Sinead. "Since you got Qin and left the team behind, I figure it's fair you only get half the reward."

The Twi'lek sniggered.

"Ran ..." Mando's stance shifted slightly, hand inching towards his blaster. Sinead pushed off the wall, leaning back to eye the blaster rifle propped up against the bed.

"Mando." Ran's voice was even. They stared at each other for a moment, neither moving a muscle.

Mando's hand's curled into fists, and for a moment, it looked like he was about to deck Ran. Instead, he turned and stalked up the ramp.

Anger flashed through Sinead’s system. They'd all nearly been killed and it had all for nothing.

"Mando!"

He stopped and slowly turned.

"The fella you're looking for. Dunno where he is, but I heard some of his crew hangs around Alpha on Zessol. Might wanna check it out."

Mando was silent for a moment before giving him a curt nod, still moving backwards into the ship. When he was inside, Sinead pressed the button to close the ramp.

"Zessol, huh?" Sinead had heard stories about Alpha, an old space station hovering above the planet, but she had never been there herself. Complicated emotions swirled in her chest. "You ever been there?"

But Mando had disappeared. As soon as the ramp closed, he had hurried up the ladder and was already starting the ship when Sinead entered the cockpit. It wobbled as it rose and floated towards the exit.

Sinead sat down in the same chair she'd been bound to what felt like ages ago and drummed her hands on her thighs. "You think they’ll try something?"

"Yep," Mando said, activating the thrusters while the ship was still a bit too close to the station.

"And what are you gonna do about it?"

"Left a tracking beacon on Qin."

Three fighters dropped out of hyperspace in front of the Crest. Sinead's stomach flipped as the ship dove to avoid a collision. She smiled for the first time in what felt like an eternity. "Wanna stay and watch the show?"

Mando replied by jumpstarting the ship into hyperspace, the sheer force making the metal creak. "Zessol is on the other side of the galaxy. It'll take days to get there."

"I guess." Sinead reached over and grabbed the child's hand, pulling his attention from the swirling mist right outside the window. "Would've been nice to see, though."

Mando hummed in response.

The child nearly fell from his seat as he tried to climb across Sinead’s arm. She pulled him onto her lap, letting him play with the end of her frazzled braid.

"What did you do to the others?"

"Left them in a cell. Let the New Republic deal with it."

"Because they’re so good at that." She thought back to the slave ring on Loovria, operating right under the New Republic's nose.

Mando grunted, and they both fell silent. The navicomputer calculating the fastest route. 83 standard hours before they would arrive at Zessol. 83 hours until she got some answers. A hard ball of nauseating fear formed deep in her stomach. 83 hours.

<- Previous chapter - Next chapter ->

#the mandalorian #din djarin #the mandalorian x oc #mando x oc #din x oc #din djarin x oc #fanfiction #ends of the earth #oc: sinead

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breitzbachbea · 3 years

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(p1) okei, what i think I can gather about you from your art/writing,(bare in mind i haven't read your long fics/most drabbles yet tho). Your 200+ OC's of different nationalities show you want to live in a thousand cultures, have a thousand lives and live in every part of history, but as you cannot, you have 200 OCs which is almost like containing 1000 souls (very relatable tho).... But 200+ OCs and your longest AU's are massive, show yeah 👀👀 And you enjoy ships that bicker... cos....

(pt2) cos the intimacy needed for that is HUGE. You love the 'i love you, i hate you, but i cannot escape from you' -> bonus points if it's history, language or culture that ties your ship together. Additionally: -completed devoted to the one they love (and would suffer for them) is a dynamic that interests you -u think the italian language is hot af -i get the feeling that michele is either how u want to be loved (idyllic love), or michele is how you love, cos that's your comfort ship (sic/ire)

1. That's pretty accurate! I have this fear that I'll never have enough time on this earth to do what I want (but I've been working on getting rid of that fear. There's enough time). I'm so fascinated by the world that we're living in, what used to be and how it relates to what is. The endless multiplicities of identity that a group can contain or even an individual.

So indeed, I make OCs based on what I learn about the world and in turn the OCs give me a good way to interact safely with the knowledge I find. It's a perpetuum mobile of creativity and knowledge.

And history is just the entirety of human experience on this planet, so trying to breathe some more life into it via Historical AUs is one of my favourite ways to engage with it. I love writing term papers as much as trying to apply the scientific findings to actual people. (I think one of my favourite things may be Sexuality in the res publica AUs, the do's & don't's that aren't the same as they are now. I freed Michele & Lovino from their catholic guilt, only to immediately constrain them with the class & gender expectations of the Roman Republic lmao).

2. I never thought about it like that, but yes! I enjoy bickering because it's an admission of closeness! You can't have friendly bickering if you're not close! (Which is why Hugo & Alois Are Like That. I enjoy them constantly mocking each other greatly, but it's never friendly and it always ends in a mess).

My family had and has its shares of problems, but I know that we love each other. Immensely. We're also that kind of family to constantly poke fun at each others, so I think that's why I instinctively resort to this kind of dynamic, with any kind of close relationships. It's not the ONLY one, because that would be boring, there are so many more ways to express love and it naturally doesn't suit every kind of character.

(I just remembered when we were at the lunch table and my dad spotted a magpie on the stable roof.

Mom: " ... why are my curtains pulled back again?"

Dad: "So that I can watch magpies.")

Here are some more non-romantic examples from my work/with my characters:

AA(The last one was a response to a tiktok that was basically "Asking your nice friends for fashion advice vs asking your mean/honest friends for advice")

3. I DO love the "i love you, i hate you, but i cannot escape from you". Maybe also for personal reasons, we're not getting that private on here. It's one of the inherent tragic aspects of Hetalia that has fascinated me for a long time: They're human and they feel like humans, but they lack part of their free will. They somehow have to survive entire lifetimes, loving and hating and remembeand worse, they have to bear decisions they themselves don't necessarily make. The relationships they form with the only other people like them, whether it'd be bonds of platonic, familiar or romantic love, the only solace and stability might have, may be snatched away from them. It can turn to hate or grow cold or another nation can disappear afterall and there is nothing they as individual people could have done about it. It's a double-edged sword - You tie yourself to someone who could be your raft as well as sink you to the bottom of the ocean.

I inevitably ended up keeping this kind of relationship in my "Like Father Like Son" Universe. Now, quick disclaimer - I am not saying they are solely the victim of their circumstances. They're all criminals in my AU and I have zero patience for making excuses for the Organized Crime. I worry greatly about the problematic aspects of my work and am well aware of them. The last thing I ever want to do is actively romanticize the Mafia. I want to add for the following part, too, that I draw as much on the real world as possible, but the structures of the organized crime in LFLS are a little more reminiscent of Monarchy or Aristocrazy.

With that out of the way however, the worldbuilding in LFLS mirrors their existence in Hetalia. Escaping their position would come with great dangers, even though their existence as is will never allow them true happiness. They're different from the people around them and there is a special connection between the Hetalia characters as bosses here - All of them inherited this position. They all basically suffer under the same yoke, they all are faced with the same difficulties. And, like in Hetalia, some of their decisions are out of their control. Business overrides their private life. They have to look out for their own people and families, for their own survival, so they may hurt the ones they love. And yet, and yet, they cling to one another. Try to make it as functional as possible. Take the pain for the relief. It's not pretty, but it's fascinating as an onlooker and fictional tragedies are also a great outlet for one's own emotions.

4. That also kind of ties in with "completed devoted to the one they love (and would suffer for them) is a dynamic that interests you". Hells yeah it does, because two people losing themselves is beautiful. Yes, it can be toxic, yes one should take care of oneself and have boundaries. But unconditional love is something I believe we all yearn for and I hope I one day get to devote myself to someone else again, as much as is healthy.

Again, it's also not just perfect for lovers, but for siblings and guardian figures. Paddy would lay his life down for Harry, Charlie & Soph. ("There's no pain that I won't go through/Even if I have to die for you" - Starset; "I love my children more than anything in this life! I will chose their happiness over mine, every time!" - Slightly changed version of Congratulations from the Hamilton Mixtape).

Gilbert who's so eager to be here for Ludwig and to protect him; to take anything off his brothers shoulder that he can.

And on the romantic side, is there anything better than two people simping head over heels for each other??? Or when a character wants to kiss/fuck another one so bad that it makes him look stupid??? I also love more quiet, more serene relationships, but to appreciate their calm, you have to make a storm to compare them to. All storm or all calm only gets you bored and exhausted.

5. Hell yeah do I think the Italian language is hot af, who'd disagree with me? It also unlocks emotions that were previously unavailable when I listen to Italian music. (German does the same. There is just something to each language that it can express certain feelings in a way like no other). YOU tell me that you listen to Shimmy Shimmy by Takagi & Ketra and aren't hypnotized by Giusy's voice. No other soundtrack for my Sicilians, Greeks and Turks fooling around on a beach and being highly erotic with each other.

6. Hm, this may be tying in with 2 again. I think I'm more of a Harry, personally, to be honest! (Nerdy, got aggression problems, cheeky, hothead, can't really cook). I think SicIre is my comfort ship because it's the type of love my parents had. It's what I am most accustomed to and there's also just a beauty in not caring what the rest of the world has to say and doing your own thing. And Harry isn't the prettiest bloke on the block and will probably never think of himself as beautiful, but that is fine because Michele looks at him like a sky full of stars. And the entire world can tell him Michele's a bastard, Harry won't listen to them. From a hetalia standpoint, these two are islands who had to suffer a lot from foreign occupation and being regarded as backwards & weird. Sicily tries to keep the autonomy it has and makes sure that others know they aren't like the mainland and Ireland fought hard for its independence from the British empire. From a LFLS standpoint, Harry embraces Michele with all of his past baggage and jagged pieces. Harry is the first person Michele never fell out of love with, the only one, and he's here to reassure Harry that he is worth caring for every step of the way.

#beareplies #amber #wow this was LONG lol #about me

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spicynbachili1 · 6 years

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Contest: Win a copy of Valthirian Arc: Hero School Story

For Steam and Switch

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