I Saw This Great Technique From @cal-kestis And Immediately Wanted To Try It :)

I saw this great technique from @cal-kestis and immediately wanted to try it :)

Say what you want about Maul, but he was the only rival sith to actually get anything done while Palpatine was head sith.

Dooku and Vader were both either too afraid or too loyal to try to do anything significant behind Palpatine’s back.

The most they did is attempt to get an apprentice to potentially overthrow Palpatine with, and even then they didn’t get very far with that.

Maul acquired a loyal apprentice (for a while), established an alliance with deathwatch, formed a crime syndicate, took over mandalore, and started a civil war. Even after he lost his apprentice and Mandalore, he still managed to keep his criminal empire for around a decade into the Empire’s reign.

His ultimate legacy was failure, but he still managed to be the only sith that could be considered a legitimate rival to Palpatine. He probably would have thrived in an different era.

Dathomir Daily

These two are so… infuriating. They speak so softly, the rolling tongue of their homeworld. Because they think Maul doesn’t understand it. They don’t know Sidious hammered not only his own language, but several others at well. They don’t know what he is… well. Savage does. But Savage… it is a puzzlement.

This other brother, this Feral… Maul grimaces at the thought of what Savage described doing to him. It had plagued the hulking Zabrak, knowing that to save his brother, he’d have to wound him irreparably. Maul… doesn’t know what to think about that. Is it “wrong”? What is wrong?

Is there wrong?

Maul wants to do something that he only vaguely remembers doing as a boy; when he was overwhelmed, he’d wrapped his arms around his knees and rocked back and forth. It helped him feel safer. More secure. Sidious had rapped his head and shoulders with a metal rod for this. He was not supposed to look so pitiful in the presence of his Master… He sits still, fists clenched.

“Maul?” Feral moves toward him, that strange whispering voice hard to gauge for emotion, but Feral felt… innocent. Such an unfathomable state of being.

“What?”

Feral frowns at… something. Maul doesn’t care to decider what. “We are about to hunt. Come with us.”

“I do not hunger.”

“Yes you do. You are always hungry.” Feral’s pale gold eyes widen as he slowly lifts his hand to cover his mouth. “I… I am sorry. I did not mean to…” But then his face hardens. “Actually no. I am not. You are starving. You haven’t touched food since you have been here… please…”

“Please what?!” Maul’s voice explodes out of him like he’s been holding it all in. “I AM NOT GOING TO BE YOUR BROTHER. I AM NOT WHAT YOU WANT ME TO BE. EVER. I WILL NOT EVER BE.” A low snarl crackles up from somewhere deep in his chest. “Shā su vīn’kr!!”

The echo of Maul’s outburst shudders through the evening air. Savage, who’s been readying himself for the hunt, rises up out of the dust bath he was applying to himself, eyes heavy with worry.

“I have heard all your little conversations.” Maul hisses loudly. He is so SICK of being whispered about like he is a sickly little whelp. He was Sith. He has slain hundreds. He has… he… “You worry, worry, worry… stop. I have always watched over myself. I do not need either of you. I am STRONG.”

“If you don’t eat, you will starve.” Savage moves closer, placing himself between Maul and Feral. He’s seen Maul in an unstable state. He can’t let something happen to Feral. Not after everything that’s happened. “Maul… we just want to help you. We expect nothing from you… just… be here. With us.”

“I came here because you offered it to me. I did not come with plans. I am not… founding a village out here in the desert with you… do what you will. Leave me be.” Maul’s gaze bores into Savage’s hurt expression. And then shifts to Feral’s. He doesn’t look hurt. He looks…? Maul cannot tell.

He… he doesn’t care. No. Feral is one alone. Savage and himself can protect him. Savage needs more training. That is all he is to them. A means to an end. It’s all he’s ever been. This ruse of brotherhood is so useless. Unnecessary. Be honest with him at the very least.

Feral’s brow creases deeper into the cavern of a scowl. He glances at Savage. “What happened to him?”

The brothers had been picking their way over a pricklewing hive for two hours, hunting for one of the native mustelids that liked to eat the burrowing insects.

Savage’s huff of annoyance makes Feral bare his teeth in warning. “I’m sorry… I don’t know. He won’t speak openly of the time before I met him anymore. After the Mandalorians found us… he’s been different. Whimpers about a girl and her cheek in his sleep sometimes.”

Feral hums. “You said he doesn’t know our language.”

“I’ve never heard him speak it before…” Savage’s shoulder bunch and relax, his tattoos rippling as he shrugs. “I’m not surprised. He knows… many things.”

“What-“ Feral’s reply dies as out of the pricklewing towers lumbers a rancor. It braces it’s huge claws, long as a brother is tall, upon a particularly high stand of them and pushes them aside as if they are cloth curtains.

A rider, long white braids framing her lilac-tattooed face, leers down at them from her saddle. “Well well well,” she crows. “Where is your little Sith p-“

The rancor shrieks, throwing the rider off before she can finish. Feral would have missed the red star fall from on high and impale itself in the things forehead had he blinked. It howls, swiping at the tail of the star but hunks if seared claw and knuckle drop in huge, smoking piles as the creature tries to rid itself of the burning brand driven into its brain. When it finally collapses, the rancor shudders and writhes, arms hewn to stumps, huge glowing scores from the star’s flame carved across its face.

The Sister who rode it kneels in the dirt, her quarry forgotten, and weeps at the sight. She doesn’t react when the red star lifts up into the air and slowly trails its way over… into the red hand of its wielder.

Maul strides between his brothers, spinning his blades lazily as he approaches the wailing woman. She crawls over to her rancor, draping her arms about the ruined muzzle of the great beast. When Maul cuts her down, she is whispering to it.

Savage swallows loudly.

“You wanted meat,” Maul says flatly, sheathing his lightsaber. He turns, not looking at either Savage or Feral. “Lāsh dē bā.”

Tag list: @alexeithegoat @thesitharts @crc-jedi-knight-serushna @hotshot9 @smoooothbrain @gran-maul-seizure @foreverchangingfandomsao3 @herbalinz-of-yesteryear @justalittletomato @stardustbee @storm89 @by-the-primes @ohboi @and-claudia @eloquentmoon

@swsource​ one year celebration: Day 1 - Tropes

↳ Opress brothers tropes

Ive already asked this but i want it in poll form