Made Of Stardust
and seafoam
ABOUT ME
27-year-old college student
currently on summer break
she/her
social butterfly with anxiety
roleplayer since 2012
PREFERENCES
multipara/literate
flexible post lengths (i don't have a minimum requirement as my own creativity fluctuates heavily)
long-term/slow-burn
romance (mxf) though not mandatory
adventure
OTHER
please be patient, I have a life outside of RPN
I prefer to keep things on RPN, in DMs
no spoilers, please. I'm watching the movies and series at my own pace
we can do OCxCanon or OCxOC, just let me know your preferences
if the idea below doesn't seem interesting to you, feel free to share your own! i'm flexible and open to coming up with ideas together
if someone is wants to help my self-indulgent ass and is willing to play Anakin in a doubling rp, I'd greatly appreciate it! I am a bit of a simp.
THE AWAKENING (an original SW concept)
Brown eyes fluttered open, a slow and disorienting process as her senses slowly took in her surroundings. She found herself lying in a pod, the interior slick with condensation and dust. The pod door was ajar, damaged but still functional enough to release her from its confines. She felt a dull ache in her limbs as she sat up, peering into the dimly lit room. It bore the marks of a fight; scorch marks adorned the walls, debris littered the floor, and shattered machinery sparked sporadically. Disoriented, she swung her legs over the edge of the pod and stepped onto the cold, hard floor, her bare feet barely making a sound. She stumbled, her knees buckling from the unexpected weight of her body. Her muscles screamed in protest; it felt like she hadn’t used them in ages. Her body had been dormant for so long that it had grown weak.
She sat there for a moment, catching her breath and willing strength back into her limbs. With great effort, she managed to pull herself up, using the pod for support. Her mind was a blank slate. She couldn’t remember her name, her past, or how she had ended up in this place. An overwhelming sense of urgency gripped her—she needed to find answers. She scanned the room, her eyes landing on a tattered bag partially buried under a pile of rubble. Kneeling, she brushed away the debris and grabbed it. Inside, she found a few pieces of clothing. Selecting what fit her, she dressed quickly. The makeshift outfit was a blend of necessity and functionality.
Hyleen explored the facility. She wandered through the labyrinthine corridors, finding broken computers and locked doors at every turn. Each obstacle amplified her sense of isolation and desperation. The elevators were non-functional, and their control panels smashed beyond repair.
While rummaging through the debris in one room, she found a curious object, something that looked like a metal rod. The handle felt strangely familiar in her grasp, but she had no idea how to use or activate it. Inspecting it closely, she noticed a name crudely carved into the hilt: Hyleen Bayshar. Was this her name? She strapped the rod to a belt she fastened around her waist, hoping it might prove useful eventually.
After what felt like an eternity, she stumbled upon a ladder leading up to a hatch. Climbing the ladder, she pushed against the latch, but it wouldn’t budge. She scratched and pounded at it until her knuckles bled, her persistence finally rewarded as the hinges gave way. The hatch fell open, clanging noisily down the shaft. A blinding light poured in, causing her to squint and shield her eyes. Sunlight. It was overwhelming after the dimness of the underground facility. Taking a moment to adjust, she climbed out, finding herself surrounded by endless sandy hills. The stark landscape stretched out in every direction.
Hyleen stood there, the wind whipping her hair. The answers she sought were out there, somewhere in this desolate wilderness, or perhaps far beyond these sandy hills. Taking a deep breath, she set off.
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