Su'cuy gar. I am Karlii Alor'ade. A woman of many names and faces: Daughter of Mandalore, Former Republic Intelligence, Proto-Hand, Commander-in-Chief of the Milky Way Mandalorians, Council Ambassador for my people and Galaxy, as well as a expatriate resident of the Milky Way.

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Independent/Crossover Mandalorian OC living in the Milky Way. Any RP interactions, please tag as karalorade.
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Drabble Prompts: In Love and War


1) My muse finds an old journal they kept in their teens (or equivalent). After reading the entire thing, they fall asleep and dream of people they once knew, both friends and enemies.

2) Your muse and mine have a conversation before a great battle in which they will both take part.

3) Every day for weeks, someone has been sneaking into my muse’s home or office and leaving a note which reads “Why did you do it?” I will write a drabble about what my muse assumes the note is about.

4) Send me a character and the word “love” or “war.” For love, I will write a romantic scene between that character and my muse. For war, I will write an argument between that character and my muse.

5) Your muse and mine meet on the battlefield.

6) My muse is in love with yours, but your muse loves another. (Feel free to also send the name of the character your muse loves.)

7) My muse has survived a great battle, but someone they love has not.

8) My muse either finds, or loses, their faith in a higher power. (Specify which.)

9) Your muse is injured or grieving. (Specify which.) My muse will assist or comfort them.

10) A drabble about my muse’s first love.

11) A drabble about my muse’s worst enemy.

12) My muse’s first contact with a representative of another culture (or species, in an SF/F setting).

posted on 3/20/2014, with 365 notes (source: inboxideas) — reblog
cptmquinn sent: Hello

Hello: And I will write our characters’ first ever meeting.

"Forgive the insubordination, sir, but you want me to work with her?”

Surrounded by the opulence that was the Supreme Chancellor’s chambers, there stood two very different characters before him.

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posted on 2/16/2014, with 3 notesreblog
bloodbeautiful sent: Night/Oops

Oops: I will write our characters getting into some trouble.
Night: For the two am text/call

[MSG:]  r u still on ns

[MSG:] cuz i could use help

[MSG:] duros sector

Sleep, which usually eluded her had almost come to her when she was disturbed by the chirping of comlink informing her of new messages. Checking her inbox, she simply sighed, threw off the covers and got to her feet, pulling herself together in some nondescript outfit, her weapons all concealed and in reach, some extra goodies in her utility belt. Save for during the war, a message at this time of the morning from someone usually meant there was dead body, and being a former black ops assassin  had made her quite informed when it came to corpse disposal.

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posted on 2/16/2014, with 1 notereblog
meilkor sent: Run!

Run!: I will write some action with our characters involved.

"Tell me why did I sign up for this? I could be doing shots of  tihaar off a bar in the lower levels right now…”

"Because you love TQ, and me?"

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posted on 2/15/2014, with 0 notesreblog
formerbravo sent: Run!

Run! : I will write some action with our characters involved.

"I don’t understand how you can be so calm at a time like this." Erin looked over a the Mndalorian woman, dressed in a uniform of a Ceberus Operative, looking oddly serene in the chaos as they attempted a hasty exit.

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posted on 2/15/2014, with 1 notereblog
tapcaftogo sent: "All night long."

17.  Not having sex.

The  two are found alone on a couch, far from having any sort of sexual connection. Or rather, Mereel sat and watch as the Mandalore fished through the couch cushions for a lost code cylinder.

"You know you could always help…" she remarked, gritting her teeth, face skewing into a look of annoyance as she feels around in the unknown for the missing object.

"I would…" Mereel began, sipping his drink as she bit back a curse, "But you have tiny lady hands. It’s a tight fit."

"Said Ripley to the android Bishop."


Naas, Mer’ika.”

posted on 2/6/2014, with 1 notereblog
bloodbeautiful sent: ✺ for our muses being snowed in together

She was silent for most of the time they were together, more absorbed with the ‘pad than anything, even more so than usual. This silence was different than expected from Kar, the air had a thick undercurrent of tension, not unlike facing a caged animal. 

Kar despised the snow, being trapped in it was hell. She tried to avoid it as much as possible, keeping the memories at bay…

The crunch of boots would bring back memories of broke bodies, the stench of burned flesh, of ozone, stark in the crisp, cold air. The screams of Jedi and Mandalorian alike as they were wounded or killed in the melee, the nearly similar crunching sound of her father’s body hitting snow in his final fight, the world turning red, and subsequent snap back to reality after killing two Jedi— being bodily thrown over a shoulder kicking and screaming to the ext ship offworld…

She felt the crawling feeling, partially aware she was going catatonic as it all replayed in her head, the cold feeling in her stomach as panic set in— panic at things that had passed. A desire to run, to escape, to rend bodies long since dead…

She hadn’t heard the other woman getting her attention until about the fifth peal of her name.

"Are you alright?"" Mesh’la asked, feeling concerned, but unable to put her finger on the problem.

Kar smiled shakily, lying. “Yeah, just getting antsy.”

"Well," the other woman replied, attempting some cheer in her voice, "They’re saying the storm should blow over by tonight— transports should be able to pick up by the morning."

posted on 2/5/2014, with 2 notesreblog
cptmquinn sent: "Oh, it's you."

Our muses have been set up on a blind date, yours has taken this more seriously and mine notices; feels a little under-dressed and tries to make some sort of amends.

"I’m going to wring his scrawny little neck if I ever see him again." She hissed, half audible to the man before her, mentioning the third element to this party who conveniently so was likely hiding under the protection of his superior. 

She sighs, looking down, up, then around her, thinking. “Welllllllllll…we could just go back to your place and I just cook for you, or I think some of my stuff’s still there, I could change…?”

posted on 11/25/2013, with 1 notereblog
solustracyn sent: "Oh, it's you."

It’s the middle of the night and my muse is woken by yours knocking on the door wanting attention

It had been one of the rare nights she could manage more than few fleeting hours of rest, settling in the bed that had been used far less than her couches. She’d finally settled in, dozing slightly as she tried to finish the chapter of her reading. Until Sophia mentioned there was an unidentified person at her door. 

With a groan, she rose from the bed and down the stairs, through the living area to the door, side arm ready and punched the panel to open the door. Kar scowled, more out of annoyance than dislike, disheveled, armed with a blaster in nothing but a large men’s shirt— the previous owner unknown, 

"This better be life or limb," she finally says, "Or I’ll make it that way."

posted on 11/25/2013, with 1 notereblog
cptmquinn sent: 11

11- a massage from my character

He grudgingly accepted the ministrations, shedding his jacket as requested. Even so, he slightly flinched at her hands as she placed them upon his shoulders, kneading away tension, tension built upon their work. It was no less stressful behind a desk than it was in the field, each did their part for  an assured success.

This act was to busy herself during the downtime, the gesture intimate, caring, a friend seeking out to help the other. 

"You don’t have to do this."

K’uur. I am.”

He continued his work and fell silent for a few moments, allowing her to work, feeling infinitely better as she worked out a few knots. Finally he spoke up again, more musing than complimenting,

"You have surprisingly gentle hands."

Kar said nothing, merely smiling faintly and continued.

posted on 10/20/2013, with 2 notesreblog