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Homra Azner

Character Prompt: Fear

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Homra Azner    92

It's the month of spoopy spooky stuff, and this is the perfect time to talk about fears and whatnot. Could be rational, could be not, could be something as small as cynophobia (fear of dogs) to panic-attack inducing fear of death.


Of course, this ain't just any other character prompt where "Ok, [Insert Name Here] is afraid of [xyz]" nah. Gonna spice it up a bit. Write a short passage showing the character and that fear and have fun! :D


Could be one character, or all if you have more than one. Not necessarily just for a single character.






'Fear is the path to the dark side since it leads to anger... or so a far as anyone's concerned. Shit, I forgot how it goes.' Homra's knuckles were white, mails trying to dig through the durasteel table. His teeth were trying to leave a vivid bruise on his lips, and he could feel goosebumps crawling across his exposed skin. The recycled air felt colder as it crawled up and down his back, but beads of sweat still formed across his forehead despite the near frigid temperature.


Beady black eyes stared back at purple irises, fathomless and seemingly curious. Homra was once plagued by nightmares thanks to this creature, that it took a year of meditation and pretending the fear doesn't exist before he can sleep peacefully. Fate seemed to have thought it funny to have it confront him when he was a full-grown adult, and was just getting used to life in Dantooine.


Technically, the archivist often encountered such creatures when he was travelling around prior to his Knighting, but it did bother him a lot. That was why he spent most of the days before returning to the Order exhausting himself to the point of having little to no dreams once he dropped unconscious on wherever he was going to spend the night. It wasn't that easy, and it seemed so trivial and irrational.


A high-pitched squeal pierced through the air, and the Echani leapt over the table as the creature rushed towards his direction. The table toppled over, datacrons and datacubes crashing over the floor, and a hundred-twenty pound near-human fell into a graceless heap of limbs on the carpeting.


Homra groaned, his right elbow slammed on the cold floor, and painful pinpricks ran across his arm. It felt like the air was knocked right out of his lungs, and his chest felt like a herd of nerfs just stampeded all over it. He lied face-down on the floor, and it felt like forever before he turned over on his back, the front of his thighs felt sore and his knees wobbly.


Another high pitched squeal, and the Echani found himself staring at the little monster that was halfway across the room, staring back at him. There was nothing good in its eyes, only pure evil in those endlessly black depths. It tilted its head and took a step forward towards Homra's direction.


"Oh no - don't you dare!" The Echani warned, trying to scramble into a sitting position. His whole body felt like a bantha decided he'd make a good footstool. "I'm warning you!"


As if it truly understood Homra, the rat skittered towards the prone Jedi with its disgusting humanoid-looking paws and probably dirt-infested fur.


On the office right next, Jun wondered when did Knight Azner began terrorizing eight-year old girls. She pictured pigtails and adorable sun dresses.




Ren's eyes were large and bright, nearly luminous, as he stared back at his reflection. Bruises seemed to bloom beneath his eyes, and he was starting to lose what little weight he gained for the past year. Sleep was becoming more and more of a luxury for the past few days.


There were weeks like these, where sleeping was something to be avoided - something to be dreaded.


Ren would find himself waking up with phantom sensations across his skin, fleeting snatches of a nightmare fading away as he tried to catch his breath. Other times, it followed him well into the day.


He could feel scalpels gliding across his skin, the pain sharp and lingering. Some days, he could feel the shock of electricity across his neck, pain lancing across his body from his head down to his toes. Then there were the times where he dreamt of some faceless Sith - sometimes Meracus, sometimes Corvus, sometimes a nameless or faceless Sith - holding him by his neck with invisible hands, Ren floating and his toes barely brushing against the floor.


Those were the worst. Because Ren forgot.


Ren forgot that he was no longer among enemies, but rather - tentative comrades. On these days, he'd spend the day seeing enemies everywhere, perceptions skewed by something that did not happen. So on these days, he kept to himself and threw himself into training. His progress in saber forms were basic at best and abysmal at worst, which frustrated him to no end. That often pushed him to just tinkering with whatever droid or computer terminal he could get his hands on, even if watching paint dry was twice as exciting.


Ren shook his head, can still feel the lingering traces of a nightmare heavy and deep in his bones. It was one of those rare nights where his dreams were a horrifying mix of half-remembered memories and surreal nonsense.


Either way, he still needed to sleep, even if nightmares greeted him once he closed his eyes.




Everything turned white, her whole world a discordant ringing and muffled shouting. For a minute, she thought that she lost all sensation and that she died.


Except, when the light faded out into indistinct shapes, the ringing turning into screaming and burning and gods I can't breathe I can't breathe it hurts I -


Jun blinked, brows furrowing together as she stared at the enormous piece of durasteel before her eyes. Its edges glowed a faint orange from the heat, and it was jagged and curved and warped from its original shape. Shards of plating surrounded the durasteel piece, red seemingly blooming from the sides as her gaze traveled down. It was about two inches deep right below her chest and right above her navel.




She can only stare at it in disbelief, not quite believing that it was sinking little by little, blood dripping out in tiny rivulets. Should Jun get it out? Ammunition from slugthrowers shouldn't be removed unless they're still making their descent since that would just reopen a cauterized wound and cause more bleeding. She could feel it going in deeper, and she felt rather... ambivalent about the whole ordeal.


She must still be in shock, then.


There was someone talking to her, but Jun thought she'd gone deaf. Something roared against her ears, and she could feel someone pushing her down and shouting. Her breath hitched and the shrapnel seemed to groan and shake, gloved hands pulling and tugging her armor and Jun was going to bleed out if they took it out and -


Pain exploded across her body, and she wanted to scream but all the breath from her lungs had gone. Her whole body was on fire, her armor too constricting and tight and burning. She needed to get it off, needed to get out. She can't breathe and it's pressing down on her and she's going to die and -


Dark spots danced across her vision, and Jun doesn't know if it's okay or not but she can't fall asleep. Not here and now, she needed to get up, needed to get somewhere safe, needed to live.


Her eyes felt too hot and the sudden blurriness had her heart racing because she can't see and -

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Mirran Kai    70



Her father said sternly, "You have failed us, Mirran....you are a disgrace to our vision and to our people." 


Mirran felt like she had been kicked hard in her stomach. The things she dreaded the most was to be told by her own parents was to be told she had failed them. She had only been three when she had been basically torn away from her parents but her memory was crisp and she remembered her parents very vividly. The Jedi claimed they took children at a very young age to prevent such attachments. However, Mirran had an eidetic memory. This meant she remembered things that others would normally not remember. While most children's feelings and memories of parents would have faded over time, Mirran's had not. While the distance of time had distanced her from her parents, she still had very distinct feelings and thoughts for her parents. 


"But....I respect the ways of the Jedi...."


"Who refused to see our vision of the Jedi and the Republic interconnected." 


Mirran stood defiantly or tried to, "But this is more than the Jedi or the Republic. You should know that, father. I follow the will of the Force." 


"Then you should trust our vision. We are following the will of the Force." 


Mirran cocked her head. "But who is to say that my vision and my will of the Force isn't different than yours." 


"Is that what the Jedi have taught you? To deny the vision of others and follow theirs instead?" 


She shook her head. "Father please....you don't understand." 


"Apparently so. You are not my daughter, Mirran....you shame us. You shame the Mirraluka, you shame your mother and me. Go belong to the Jedi....you are no longer my daughter." 


Mirran woke up suddenly in a cold sweat. Thank the Force it was only a dream. However, what if such dreams were visions, visions of the future?  She began to pace back and forth? I don't want to fail my family. I don't want to fail the Jedi either. 


What if I fail both? What if I am doomed to fail my parents, my people, and the Jedi? I don't want to fail them. She began to cry. Please, I don't want to fail anyone. I don't want to fail. I don't want to fail!!



Edited by Mirran Kai
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