i knew this guy in middle school who when asked about his future plans, even by school counselors or teachers would without fail always chant,
KICK ASS, GO TO SPACE
REPRESENT THE HUMAN RACE
i wonder what he’s up to these days.
Anonymous said: "What happened doesn’t change anything." - F!Revan/Bastilla
YO, USUAL KOTOR 1 MEGASPOILER WARNING
also I love you for giving me an excuse to write these two
this ended up pretty long, that’s what you get when you ask me for this ship
"You don’t have to go," Revan had said, but she knew she did, so here she was. Holding a glass of something blue in fingers that felt ridiculously weak. It had been decided that the celebratory party would be hosted by House Panteer, as Alderaan had been more or less untouched by the recent wars. In the setting sun, the long shadows cast by tall columns over the outdoor pavilion were fading into general gray. Everything was soft blues and purples, restful on the eyes, which Bastila appreciated as she struggled to keep a smile plastered on her face.
People approached her- military officials, politicians, heads of state, financiers, all the pillars of the Republic important enough to get an invitation. It was easy enough to tell how much they knew. Some greeted her as befit the Jedi Knight Bastila Shan, the pazaak card up the Republic’s sleeve, congratulated her as one should congratulate a war hero on her victory. Others came to stare at her, faces full of curiosity and wonder. They were the ones who knew a bit more, the ones who wanted to see what a double traitor looked like.
Someone touched her arm and she flinched, a quick reactive movement before she could catch herself. “Hey,” someone said, and she looked up at Carth, resplendent in full dress uniform, the lines on his face and premature gray in his hair for once conveying dignity rather than stress. He held out a full glass. “Trade?”