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commanderbengiskywalker · 4 years ago

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may i req 74 ( “What are you doing?”) whump and found family with Plo and Fordo, my lad?

Who is Watching You’re Back?

74: “What are you doing?”

Characters: Fordo and Plo.

Summary: Ever since he got assigned to the Kel Dor who happened to accompany him on this mission, he noticed things others seem to ignore.

A/N: This is an AU I have been going around in my head and I wish to test it. The Clones aren’t by neither the Jedi, Republic or the Kaminoans. They are Mandalorians and were taken away from Kamino early and have a treaty with Republic. The Jedi, on the other hand, belong to the Republic ever since Darth Malgus’ raid on Coruscant, as they failed to protect the Republic. I hope you enjoy.

The group moved through the dense forest as they proceeded to their target, the Separatists’ comm tower. Fordo has lead countless missions behind enemy lines to get back at Separatists for their Buir and to save his vod for any oncoming assault.

“Thatch,” he called to his comms, as he spied on the comm tower. “What is the amount of resistance?”

There was silence in response, as they waited for the scout team to report.

“Says there are six on the highest platform, six at the entrance.” The voice of Grounder replied.

“How many inside the tower?” Fordo asked.

“Twelve more inside.”

“Seems easy,” chimed Dare through the comms.

“What of our special “help”, Ori’vod?”

Fordo frowned behind his helmet. He didn’t know much of the Kel Dor Jetii that Wolffe dropped on him, but from his loose statements of being a “di’kutla Jetii” on their first meeting, he didn’t say much else. His records show that he was involved in both the Hyperspace War as leader because the previous Jetii died to an ambush, and the Yinchorii Uprising as a servant to the Republic’s whims. He had good reputation as the Republic dog he was, but he never talked much as he preferred to stand at the side during briefings with his vod. Or he would await in the hanger bay or training deck for occupying his time. He was strange compared to how the others were described by working on a ship or meditating alone.

“Kel Dor,” he called into the comms, “what is your position?”

He was only greeted with static. Not the first time a Jetii greeted him with static as response, as he worked with a Shistavavan Jetii who never talked.

He sighed. “Let’s move forward.”

The group moved to the target as Thatch snipped out the ones in front before they could react. They halted at the door while Fordo kicked the droid in the faceplate and shot the other in the chassis.

“Wire, open it up,” Fordo said.

Wire approached the panel, but before she could do anything the door opened to a bunch of dismantled Battle Droids and a single Kel Dor with a brandished Lightsaber.

“How did you get in?” He asked, as he entered.

The Kel Dor deactivated his Lightsaber and hung it belt before clasping his hands behind his back.

“My apologies, General.” The Kel Dor responded. “I merely saw a vantage point to the west of the platform and entered there.”

Fordo huffed and turned to his vod. “Wire, disable their transmissions, inform Cody and Rex that we’re ready.”

“Yes, Ori’vod.” Wire nodded, as she turned to the console.

“The rest, let’s head to the platform.” He ordered, as he walked to the stairs. “You too, Jetii.”

The rest of group made there way up the steps, passing by the occasional droid as they went. Fordo didn’t bother with them, as his concern fell to the Kel Dor’s twitching talons. He frowned from behind his mask. ‘Is he always this twitchy?’ He wondered absently.

They were greeted with a beautiful skyline over looking the forest and the occasional bird flying by from the west. The Kel Dor stood next to Grounder as they scan the area, he noticed him grabbing the railing tightly.

Fordo felt the familiar tap of Thatch, as he turned ti see him point to an oncoming battalion of Super Battle Droids coming from the west. There were also a few tanks accompanying them.

“Grounder, ready the rocket launcher for those tanks,” he ordered, as he grab his pistols.

“What of the rest?” Grounder asked, as he set up his launcher.

“We’ll handle it. Wire, where’s the reinforcements?”

“On there way, but Vultures droids are blocking them.” Wire replied through the comms.

“Then we’ll hold out.”

The group grab their weapons and ready for the assault. Grounder fired a rocket to the nearest tank disabling them, but in turn alerting them of their position. Thatch snipped several on the ground though more took their place.

“If only we had bombers,” Grounder grits, as he fired at the second tank, “then we could take a load of them out.”

“We’ll just have to hold, vod’ika.” Fordo replied shooting down the others.

A blur passed by him as the Kel Dor jumped off the platform and toward the battle below, but the sound of crackling came off of his body while the smell of burning ozone filled his nostrils.

“The Kriff is the matter with him?!” He shouted, as he watched him fall.

Suddenly there was an explosion of electricity that went around the droids. The shockwave went about three feet away from the intisl blast radius, disabling multiple droids in the process. The only thing that was left the smell of burning ozone that filled the air.

Fordo stared blankly as he had never seen anything like that before. Is this what Republic was hiding from them? A Jetii who can shoot lighting. He shook his hea as he fastened his cable to the railing.

“Let’s move.” He ordered, as he jumped off and down to the battle below.

The Kel Dor blocked the on coming blaster fire, as they others reached the ground. Several grazes hit his arms as he attempted to bloc the overwhelming fire, flinched at the ones that suddenly came behind them. He turned to me Fordo’s pistol aimed at the nearest droid.

“We need to talk,” the General shouted, as he walked up beside him.

“Yes, Sir.” The Kel Dor replied automatically, while blocking the shoots

“Hey, Fordo,” called from the comms, “need some help?”

“Get down here, Warthog.” Fordo order to his comms.

Then a line of ships fired down on top of them and at the droids. Then they came back around to fire bombs at those in the rear, cutting off further assult to the ground team.

A gunship landed next to them with blue and animalistic designs. The group ran towards it as Wire followed behind them with the Kel Dor blocking fire for her. They shut the doors as were all accounted for.

“Take us up, Sky.” Fordo called up.

“Alright, Ori’vod.” Sky called back.

Fordo felt the familiar jostling of the ship, but he couldn’t his eyes iff of the twitching Kel Dor as his fingers with crackle with electricity.

_______________________________________

When they reached the Resolute, they stepped off of the gunship. Wire rubbed her arm, as the graze bleeding through her greys, while Grounder and Thatch went to put down their weapons. Fordo walked up to Cody and Rex, they greeted them at the hanger.

“It was successful, I hope,” said Rex as he held his grey a blue helmet under his arm.

“You can say that, vod’ika,” the eldest replied, removing his red and black helmet. “Wolffe never said his Jetii can do lighting, though.”

“What?” The two said in unison with bewildered expressions.

“Di’kut Jetii,” he called, over his shoulder, “come here.”

The Kel Dor walked up beside him with hands clasped behind him, his shoulder straightened and his tilted up.

“Tell me, what did you think you were doing jumping down into battle like that?” He asked firmly.

“Apologies, sir,” the Kel Dor said, bowing. “I merely was providing a solution. I will take the according punishment for my mistake.”

“Punishment?”

The Kel Dor stiffened, as he slowly straightened. He shuffled from foot to foot nervously. Was he always this nervous?

“It is forbidden to use such an ability that I am capable of, sir.” He explained. “If are were to, there must a punishment or it is informed to the Republic.”

“Indeed.” The posh voice of General Tarkin echoed in the hanger bay, followed by another Besalisk Jetii behind him. “The asset is forbidden to use such abilities outside of those that are instructed to them.”

“Is that really necessary? Surely the Jetii has a name.”

“Yet you insist on calling him a Jedi, but never bother to ask.”

Fordo glanced at the Jetii, who stepped back a bit. He never once said his name or neither did he ask. Names are important to his vod as they choose them after Buir run away with them twenty years ago, but he never bothered to ask him.

“What’s your name, Jetii?” He asked gently.

“It doesn’t matter, sir.” He replied flatly.

“No, what is it? You’re name.”

“Plo, sir. Plo of clan Koon.”

He smiled at the clan name. ‘Seems very far away from his clan..’ he thought, as he reached out his hand.

Plo stared blankly at the offer before going to reach, but another hand grabbed his.

“What do you think you are trying to do, Guard?” The Besalisk barked, tightening his grip on his wrist.

“I..I was simply…” Plo stammered, gazing up at the taller Jetii.

“He was being polite and giving me a hand shake.” Fordo cut in.

“Apologies, General, but Kel Dor have the ability see thoughts by touch. He doesn’t do handshakes.”

Fordo tightened his hand into a fist as he brought to his side. He glared up at the Jetii as he glared back at him. His vod murmured in Mando’a insults behind him.

“We shall take the beast with us,” Tarkin states, as he scowled at the Plo. “He shall be punished accordingly for his blunt miss use of his abilities.”

“That isn’t necess—,” the eldest tried to cut in, but they already turned to drag off Plo with them.

“Kriffing Republic scum.” Rex muttered, as he glared at the group.

“Tell Wolffe to comm me if Plo ever returns.” Fordo states, firmly as he walks away from his vod. He didn’t feel right abandoning Plo like that.

—————————————————————

The next time he saw the Kel Dor was on another joint mission a few months later. He walked into the bridge as his vod’ika talked while the Jetii stood off to the side. The Togruta and the two human Jetii stood close to each other near one of the modules while his vod’ikas surrounded the map. What caught his wmeye was Plo, who stood in the far corner clasping his hands, his bandaged hands.

“What kriff?!” He shouted, as he walked up to Plo. “Why didn’t you tell me, Wolffe?!”

Wolffe and the others glanced Fordo, as he approached his Jetii, grabbing his hands. The Jetii stiffened at the outburst.

Wolffe frowned. “I asked as well. He wouldn’t say.”

Fordo frowned as he inspected the injuries, as the fingers were in the splint for obvious broken bones for one reason… he used the lighting.

“What did they do to you…?” He whispered, running his hand against the bandages.

“It is alright, sir,” Plo whispered, as he tried move his hand away. “It is alright, I am fine.”

Fordo frowned. “Someone has to watch your back.”

“Others need their backs watched, sir. Mine is fine.”

That was one thing they had in common, they preferred look after those younger than themselves over watch themselves. Fordo made a vow to adopt this Jetii, if it’s the last thing he does.

__________________________________________

A/N: I hope you enjoyed. I really wanted to try this AU with Clones being actual Mandalorians and leading battles while the Jedi served as their guards. I hopevI achieved with what you wanted. I am still doing more requests if you are interested.

#plo koon #commander fordo #commander cody #captain rex #wilhuff tarkin #pong krell #au #star wars #star wars: the clone wars #star wars: the expanded universe #star wars the prequel trilogy #bengi writes

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leahazel · 3 years ago

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More about my morally-grey heroines and their messed-up relationships

I wanted to elaborate on this post I wrote about D&F and BFS, but it turns out that adding readmore links to reblogs is a PITA, and I just now that this is gonna turn into a fucking novelette.

So here we go.

Time to go into some detail about this!

Let’s define our terms:

“Decline and Fall” is my 120K+ series of loosely chronological, interconnected short fics, set in a tiny fandom for a visual novel that’s been in alpha development since 2015. For the record, the word count disincludes unfinished drafts, and stories that I’m holding back because they’re based on canon spoilers.

“Blood from Stone“ is my 100K unfinished Skyrim WIP, which began as a response to a kink meme prompt, and is not so much a rarepair as a non-existent one.

Both of these stories centrally feature young female protagonists and their sexual relationship with a much older man. Both heroines are... “grey” to say the least.

Let’s compare our fandoms, shall we?

Skyrim is a juggernaut fandom for a super-popular RPG which is part of a 30-yo franchise. The setting is moderately dark and casually sprinkled with murder cults, cannibalism, secret police death squads, and the prison industrial complex. The player character can be a thief and a murderer and everyone just learns to be okay with it because the only alternative is a fiery apocalypse. They also rob graves for the lulz.

Seven Kingdoms: The Princess Problem is a pinkie-toe-sized fandom for a hybrid RPG and dating sim where attractive young people flirt and date for the purpose of brokering world peace. The setting is one where you can actually broker world peace effectively. The player character can perpetrate a fair amount of proxy violence, but maintaining a good reputation dishonestly is legitimately difficult.

Now, let’s compare our heroines:

Corinne is a 24-year-old bounty hunter who became a folk hero, a soldier, and a cult assassin. She’s living alone and working for a living since she was 18. She’s never been in love, but she’s had multiple sexual and romantic relationships in the past. I deliberately wrote her as being very sexually confident and self-assured. She also has combat training, magical training, her special Dragonborn powers, and an incalculable amount of social clout. By every metric, she’s a powerful character. Though she can talk her way out of a tight spot (all my favorite characters can), she can also fight her way out.

Verity is (at the beginning of D&F) not yet 18 years old. She’s a princess from a very conservative kingdom who was raised to become a barter bride in a diplomatic marriage. The values that were passed to her were duty, tradition, and absolute obedience. Her primary skills are social, charisma, eloquence, and persuasion. Then she was dropped into the deep water of a diplomatic summit and had the weight of future history put on her shoulders, without ever having been taught how to make her own decisions or live with her regret.

To sum up, we have one hyper-competent, confident, and independent badass, universally recognized as powerful and dangerous, and then we have someone who’s basically a deconstruction of a traditional fantasy princess.

Okay, what about the more specific setting within the game world?

BFS is set in Markarth, arguably the most corrupt city in Skyrim, and the site of a localized war, on top of the 2-3 other wars that Skyrim has going on. The city is controlled by the cartel-like Silver-Blood family, and their enemies are swiftly and brutally eliminated. The rule of law is a joke. When the player character arrives at Markarth, they witness a chain or murders and are drawn into a conspiracy that sees them sentenced to life in prison for a crime they didn’t commit. The ruling elite suppress the native underclass by a variety of inventive methods. The roads into the city are controlled by the remnants of a violent but failed uprising, and this uprising is actually the origin story of Skyrim’s entire civil war storyline.

D&F is set in Revaire, explicitly the most violently war-torn of the seven kingdoms. Once the epicenter of a conquering empire, it was a country full of arts and culture, until a bloody coup slaughtered the entire royal line and instituted a new and more brutal regime. The new regime is on shaky grounds and foresighted people predict its imminent fall to rebel forces. So much, so canon. In D&F, I made a point of developing the new royals and their small coterie of supporters, as well as illustrating their constant struggle to conceal how widely reviled they are by the populace, and most of the former nobility. Their apathy to the plight of the common people is underscored in contrast to Verity’s compassion, which is ridiculed as a sentimental feminine affectation.

I’m attracted to certain themes, as you might have noticed.

Now, we get to talk about love interests.

Thongvor Silver-Blood is rather anemically characterized in Skyrim’s canon, so much of the information that I include in BFS is inferred. From his limited number of dialogues in the game, we know that he’s politically ambitious, a Stormcloak supporter, easily angered, and that he has one legitimate friend in the city. Like most Skyrim characters of his age bracket, he served in the Great War. He’s defined by his relationship to his generational cohort. In BFS, he’s def8ined in contrast to his brother. Thonar is comfortable being thought of as a villain. Thongvor still needs to believe that he’s the good guy. And I’m gonna get more into that in later chapters, too.

As a love interest, he’s initially in awe of Corinne, and always genuinely adoring, but more than a little jealous and possessive. BFS is not a story about love redeeming bad men (don’t get me started), but Thongvor shows different sides of his personality to different people, and the side that Corinne gets to see is much nicer than what most people do.

Hyperion Asper is a character of my own devising, whose existence in 7KPP canon is purely implied. We know his children, Jarrod and Gisette, and we knew that he organized a coup to seize the throne. I posit him as a tyrant and unrepentant child-killer (not directly stated in D&F, at least not yet). He’s ruthless and manipulative and his sole purpose is maintaining a sense of personal power. I structured him as the bad example that Jarrod tries -- and fails -- to live up to.

As a love interest... look, he’s a man who’s cheating on his wife with his son’s wife. He seduces Verity and manipulates her, and takes a special delight in pushing her buttons. All his compliments to her are mean-spirited and back-handed. He’s also jealous and possessive... which is especially pathetic, since he’s jealous of his own son, whom Verity doesn’t even like. His rage is a constant implied undercurrent in the narrative.

And the relationship dynamics themselves?

Corinne kisses Thongvor, proposes marriage to him, and then sleeps with him before riding off into mortal danger. She’s fond and affectionate, but she shies away from intense emotions, whether negative or positive. Since they spend most of their time apart, their marriage has been defined by Thongvor yearning like a sailor’s wife, while Corinne ran around doing violence and crime. They only just had their first fight. It will change when they get to spend some more significant time together... but on the whole, their marriage is fairly happy, and the emotional dynamic favors Corinne -- so far. It’s not a pure gender reversal, but that element is definitely dominant.

Hyperion starts seducing Verity on their very first meeting, and relies on a combination of magnetic attraction and Verity’s inexperience in life to keep her coming back, against her better judgment. Their relationship is mutually defined by a combination of attraction and resentment of that attraction. The danger of the situation is an essential element, to the point where it’s hard to imagine their affair would survive without it. It’s a puzzle and a battle, a source of fascination but not of comfort. There’s lust involved, and curiosity, but not a shred of love or even like. The closest thing to genuine affection is when Verity briefly imagines that there could be a version of Hyperion she actually liked, cobbled from his various, hidden good qualities. Any trappings of a genuine relationship are deliberately discordant.

I have tried, more than once, to imagine an alternate universe in which these two could be happy. It can’t be done. they are a study in dysfunction.

So where’s the similarity, with all these differences outlined?

Corinne’s choice to marry into the Silver-Blood family makes her complicit in their rule of the Reach, corrupt and reactionary as it is. Her reluctance to accept being called by their name reflects a reluctance to confront unpleasant truths that’s fundamental to her character. Choosing to be one of them affects and will continue to affect how other people see her, mostly negatively, and mostly without her being aware of it. Being Thongvor’s wife has gained her enemies. The fact that she doesn’t share his more reactionary views is something that they’ve both chosen to elegantly ignore, but the rest of the world won’t be so generous.

Verity’s choice to marry into the Revaire royal family makes her complicit in their violence against the forces rebelling against them, albeit in a more subtle way. Her personal dislike of Jarrod and the fact that their marriage was purely political will not absolve her in anyone’s eyes. Neither will her compassionate and charitable character, which can only be seen as a fig leaf to the Revaire royals’ general brutality. She has lost at least one good friend -- who will never see her the same way, since she chose to throw her lot in with his enemies. She will go down in history as an Asper wife -- but if she’s lucky, not just as that.

Both Corinne and Verity choose to accept some of the violence of the system that they live under, in order to serve their own lofty, long-term goals. Both of them are more image-driven than they care to admit, and though they are genuinely caring and compassionate, they will readily sacrifice compassion in service on their goals. They are queens (or queen-like figures), one-degree-of-separation members of the ruling class, implicated but not directly in control.

And their relationships serve to highlight what they are willing to accept, even though it goes against their conscience.

Is there a conclusion to be drawn here?

Sort of. I want to write about power, compromise and complicity. For whatever reason, it turns out that yw/om relationships are... a really good vehicle for exploring that. I can’t really explain why that is, just yet. I just... have had these thoughts floating, unstructured, in my head for months on end. I needed to get them out on paper, and give them some semblance of order.

I don’t even know why anyone but me would read this, as long and meandering as it is. But having it accessible might be of use to me.

#blood from stone #decline and fall #train wreck verity #i don't know why anyone would read this #it's nearly 2k words #and it has no real conclusion #hazel's d&f/bfs meta spiel

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aion-rsa · 3 years ago

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HBO Max New Releases:. July 2021

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

LeBron James might be out of the NBA playoffs, but he’s still angling to be a big part of the summer entertainment season. That’s because HBO Max’s list of new releases for July 2021 is highlighted by a very special sequel.

Space Jam: A New Legacy premieres on July 16. will find LeBron teaming up with the Looney Tunes in a Warner Bros. IP-extravaganza. Can ‘Bron and the Looney Tunes beat the Goon Squad before Warner Bros.’ server steals LeBron “Bronny” Jr.’s soul (or something)? Let’s hope so. The two other major WB releases this month, No Sudden Move and Tom and Jerry in New York, both come to HBO Max on July 1.

HBO Max is also bringing some fun TV shows to its stream this month. The long-awaited Gossip Girl revival premieres on July 8. That will be followed by Mike White’s satirical limited series The White Lotus on July 11. Ronan Farrow’s excellent book Catch and Kill gets a docuseries adaptation on July 12.

July 1 will see the arrival of library titles like Planet of the Apes, Reservoir Dogs, and Scream. Recent hit Judas and the Black Messiah comes to HBO Max on that date as well. It’s a good month for geek TV with the Doctor Who 2020 Christmas Special (July 1), Nancy Drew season 2 (July 3), and Batwoman season 2 (July 27) all coming home to their streaming residence.

HBO Max New Releases – July 2021

TBA FBOY Island, Max Original Season 1 Premiere Romeo Santos: King of Bachata, 2021 (HBO) Romeo Santos Utopia Live from MetLife Stadium, 2021 (HBO)

July 1 ¡Come! (aka Eat!), 2020 8 Mile, 2002 (HBO) All Dogs Go to Heaven 2, 1996 (HBO) All Dogs Go to Heaven, 1989 (HBO) Behind Enemy Lines, 1997 (HBO) Beneath the Planet of the Apes, 1970 (HBO) Bio-Dome, 1996 (HBO) Black Panthers, 1968 Blackhat, 2015 (HBO) Brubaker, 1980 (HBO) Cantinflas (HBO) Conquest of the Planet of the Apes, 1972 (Extended Version) (HBO) Cousins, 1989 (HBO) Dark Water, 2005 (HBO) Darkness Falls, 2003 (HBO) Demolition Man, 1993 Dirty Work, 1998 (HBO) Disturbia, 2007 (HBO) Doctor Who Holiday 2020 Special: Revolution of the Daleks, 2020 Duplex, 2003 (HBO) Escape from the Planet of the Apes, 1971 (HBO) Eve’s Bayou, 1997 Firestarter, 1984 (HBO) First, 2012 For Colored Girls, 2010 (HBO) For Greater Glory: The True Story of Cristiada, 2012 (HBO) Full Bloom, Max Original Season 2 Finale Ghost in the Machine, 1993 (HBO) The Good Lie, 2014 (HBO) Gun Crazy, 1950 House on Haunted Hill, 1999 Identity Thief, 2013 (Extended Version) (HBO) Ira & Abby, 2007 (HBO) Joe Versus the Volcano, 1990 Judas and the Black Messiah, 2021 (HBO) Laws Of Attraction, 2004 (HBO) Lucky, 2017 (HBO) Maid in Manhattan, 2002 Married to the Mob, 1988 (HBO) Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil, 1997 Mississippi Burning, 1988 (HBO) Monster-In-Law, 2005 Mousehunt, 1997 (HBO) My Brother Luca (HBO) No Sudden Move Pleasantville, 1998 The Prince of Tides, 1991 Project X, 1987 (HBO) The Punisher, 2017 (HBO) Punisher: War Zone, 2008 (HBO) Rambo, 2008 (Director’s Cut) (HBO) Reds, 1981 (HBO) Reservoir Dogs, 1992 (HBO) The Return of the Living Dead, 1985 (HBO) Return of the Living Dead III, 1993 (Extended Version) (HBO) Rounders, 1998 (HBO) Saturday Night Fever, 1977 (Director’s Cut) (HBO) Scream, 1996 Scream 2, 1997 Scream 3, 2000 Semi-Tough, 1977 (HBO) The Sessions, 2012 (HBO) Set Up, 2012 (HBO) Snake Eyes, 1998 (HBO) Staying Alive, 1983 (HBO) Stuart Little, 1999 The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, 2003 Tom and Jerry in New York, Max Original Series Premiere Trick ‘R Treat, 2009 (HBO) Tyler Perry’s Daddy’s Little Girls, 2007 (HBO) Tyler Perry’s Diary of a Mad Black Woman, 2005 (HBO) Tyler Perry’s I Can Do Bad All by Myself, 2009 (HBO) Tyler Perry’s Madea Goes To Jail, 2009 (HBO) Tyler Perry’s Madea’s Big Happy Family, 2011 (HBO) Tyler Perry’s Madea’s Family Reunion, 2006 (HBO) Tyler Perry’s Why Did I Get Married Too, 2010 (HBO) The Watcher, 2016 (HBO) The Water Horse: Legend of the Deep, 2007 (HBO) Westworld (Movie), 1973 White Chicks (Unrated & Uncut Version), 2004 The White Stadium, 1928 Won’t Back Down, 2012 (HBO) Zero Days, 2016 (HBO)

July 2 Lo Que Siento por Ti (aka What I Feel for You) (HBO)

July 3 Let Him Go, 2020 (HBO) Nancy Drew, Season 2

July 7 Dr. STONE, Seasons 1 and 2 (Subtitled) (Crunchyroll Collection) Shiva Baby, 2021 (HBO)

July 8 The Dog House: UK, Max Original Season 2 Premiere Gossip Girl, Max Original Series Premiere Human Capital, 2020 (HBO) The Hunt, 2020 (HBO) Looney Tunes Cartoons, Max Original Season 2 Premiere

July 9 Frankie Quinones: Superhomies (HBO)

July 11 The White Lotus, Limited Series Premiere (HBO)

July 12 Catch and Kill: The Podcast Tapes, Documentary Series Premiere (HBO)

July 15 Tom & Jerry, 2021 (HBO)

July 16 Betty, Season 2 Finale (HBO) Space Jam: A New Legacy, Warner Bros. Film Premiere, 2021 Un Disfraz Para Nicolas (aka A Costume for Nicolas) (HBO)

July 17 The Empty Man, 2020 (HBO)

July 18 100 Foot Wave, Documentary Series Premiere (HBO)

July 22 Through Our Eyes, Max Original Documentary Series Premiere

July 23 Corazon De Mezquite (aka Mezquite’s Heart) (HBO)

July 24 Freaky, 2020 (HBO)

July 26 Catch and Kill: The Podcast Tapes, Documentary Series Finale (HBO)

July 27 Batwoman, Season 2 Real Sports with Bryant Gumbel (HBO)

July 30 Uno Para Todos (aka One for All) (HBO)

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

Leaving HBO Max – July 2021

July 3 The ABC’s Of Covid-19: A CNN/Sesame Street Town Hall for Kids and Parents Part 2, 2020

July 4 Annabelle, 2014 Annabelle Comes Home, 2019 (HBO) The Conjuring: The Devil Made Me Do It, 2021 The Curse of La Llorona, 2019 The Nun, 2018

July 5 Lost And Delirious, 2001

July 8 Mad Max: Fury Road, 2015

July 10 It: Chapter 2, 2019 (HBO)

July 11 An Elephant’s Journey, 2018 In the Heights, 2021 Thanks for Sharing, 2013

July 15 Burlesque, 2010

July 17 The Notebook, 2004

July 26 The King’s Speech, 2010

July 31 17 Again, 2009 A Clockwork Orange, 1971 A Nightmare on Elm Street 2: Freddy’s Revenge, 1985 A Nightmare on Elm Street 4: The Dream Master, 1988 A Nightmare on Elm Street 5: The Dream Child, 1989 A Nightmare on Elm Street, 1984 A Nightmare on Elm Street, 2010 Adam’s Rib, 1949 America’s Sweethearts, 2001 Anaconda, 1997 The Apparition, 2012 (HBO) Are We There Yet?, 2005 Argo, 2012 (Alternate Version) (HBO) AVP: Alien vs. Predator, 2004 (Alternate Version) (HBO) Badlands, 1973 Beau Brummel, 1954 The Benchwarmers, 2006 Beverly Hills Chihuahua 2, 2011 (HBO) Beverly Hills Chihuahua 3: Viva La Fiesta!, 2012 (HBO) Billy Madison, 1995 (HBO) The Book Of Eli, 2010 (HBO) Bram Stoker’s Dracula, 1992 Bringing Up Baby, 1938 The City of Lost Children, 1995 The Color Purple, 1985 The Comebacks, 2007 (Alternate Version) (HBO) The Conjuring 2, 2016 The Crocodile Hunter: Collision Course, 2002 (HBO) Don’t Let Go, 2019 (HBO) Downton Abbey, 2019 (HBO) El Angel (aka The Angel), 2018 (HBO) Eyes Wide Shut, 1999 Fool’s Gold, 2008 Fort Tilden, 2015 (HBO) The Four Feathers, 2002 (HBO) The Gay Divorcee, 1934 Get A Job, 2016 (HBO) The Goonies, 1985 Grand Canyon, 1991 (HBO) Hairspray, 1988 Happy Gilmore, 1996 (HBO) Hellboy Animated Collection, 2006, 2007 The Hurricane, 1999 (HBO) I Know What You Did Last Summer, 1997 Iniciales SG (aka Initials S.G.), 2019 (HBO) J. Edgar, 2011 Jackie Chan’s First Strike, 1997 Jacob’s Ladder, 1990 (HBO) Jeremiah Johnson, 1972 Keeper Of The Flame, 1943 Kill Bill: Vol. 1, 2003 (HBO) Kill Bill: Vol. 2, 2004 (HBO) Kung Fu Hustle, 2005 The Lego Ninjago Movie, 2014 Less Than Zero, 1987 (HBO) Life Stinks, 1991 (HBO) Lincoln, 2012 (HBO) Little Children, 2006 (HBO) Little Man Tate, 1991 (HBO) Lovely & Amazing, 2002 The Lucky One, 2012(HBO) The Madness of King George, 1994 (HBO) Marisol, 2019 (HBO) Me 3.769, 2019 (HBO) Michael Clayton, 2007 Mickey Blue Eyes, 1999 Monster-In-Law, 2005 Mulholland Dr., 2001 Muralla (aka Muralla, The Goalkeeper), 2018 (HBO) Murder on the Orient Express, 1974 (HBO) Music and Lyrics, 2007 My Dream Is Yours, 1949 My Girl 2, 1994 My Girl, 1991 My Sister’s Keeper, 2009 Now, Voyager, 1942 Old Dogs, 2009 (HBO) The Opposite Sex, 1956 The Pledge, 2001 (HBO) Precious, 2009 (HBO) The Producers, 1968 The Prophecy, 1995 (HBO) The Prophecy II, 1998 (HBO) The Prophecy III: The Ascent, 2000 (HBO) Prophecy IV: The Uprising, 2005 (HBO) Prophecy V: The Forsaken, 2005 (HBO) Pulp Fiction, 1994 Rachel and The Stranger, 1948 Radio Days, 1987 (HBO) The Reluctant Debutante, 1958 Revenge of the Nerds II: Nerds in Paradise, 1987 (HBO) Revenge of the Nerds IV: Nerds in Love, 2005 (HBO) Revenge of the Nerds, 1984 (HBO) Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves, 1991 Roger & Me, 1989 Rollerball, 2002 (HBO) Romance on the High Seas, 1948 Rumble in the Bronx, 1996 Safe House, 2012 (HBO) Salvador, 1986 (HBO) Shall We Dance?, 2004 Shallow Hal, 2001 (HBO) Shocker, 1989 (HBO) Sinbad of the Seven Seas, 1989 (HBO) Sprung, 1997 (HBO) Stop-Loss, 2008 (HBO) Sunshine Cleaning, 2009 (HBO) Swing Time, 1936 Tea for Two, 1950 Thief, 1981 (HBO) This Is Spinal Tap, 1984 (HBO) Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, 2011 (HBO) Top Hat, 1935 Trapped in Paradise, 1994 (HBO) Troll 2, 1990 (HBO) Troll, 1986 (HBO) Two Minutes of Fame, 2020 (HBO) Underdog, 2007 (HBO) Untamed Heart, 1993 (HBO) Up in the Air, 2009 (HBO) The Visitor, 2008 Waiting for Guffman, 1997 The Wedding Singer, 1998 Wendy, 2020 (HBO) Wildcats, 1986 (HBO) The Wings of Eagles, 1957 Without Love, 1945 Woman of the Year, 1942 Worth Winning, 1989 (HBO) Young Man with a Horn, 1949

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sandsofoneiros · 3 years ago

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No Light, No Light.

Disclaimer: Don't own anything in this other than Ro and Seraphine. Empress is @thembohux oc. Also, you'll be reading this while I'm on vacation! So, I won't get to discuss anything until I get back!

Description: The one where Poe is in the First Order and Senator Citlali doesn't want him around her. Could feelings grow between them? Let's find out.

Word count: 4941.

Warning: Slight mention of anxiety, using the word blood, and there's the use of blasters. Some cursing as well.

Tagging: Lemme know after you read it if you want to be tagged.

Chapter One: In The Presence of Enemies.

Three Days before. . . .

The Senator stood beside the young Queen as they watched another transport shuffle load up with more of the Nabooians. It was a bittersweet moment that shouldn’t be happening. These individuals shouldn’t be asked to leave their homes and their lives behind, but this was for this safety. This was for the future of Naboo. The Final Order was on their way to claim the planet, but Naboo was more than that. So much more. This still caused a dull ache in Ro’s heart as she watched her own family load up on the transport. Her sister’s eyes were puffy and red from their last goodbye. Her arms were full of the last dresses that had created in the Citlali dress shop. Her aunt Eira was doing her best to stay strong for Thalia. This shouldn’t be happening. The Resistance should be here stopping the Final Order. The New Republic should be here to help them, but neither had come. Now, her planet belonged to the Final Order. Her family would be safe, but she couldn’t say the same to herself. She had decided the moment Queen Seraphine had told them about the evacuation that she would remain. They had dressed the Queen in her black dress that was inspired by the dress that was once worn by the handmaiden, Sabe. Seraphine had told Ro that it was the highest honor to wear the dress as she helped her people. Ro, in return, had dressed like one of her handmaidens instead of her usual senator attire. She wore the dress that was orange velvet with the red hood today. To know that it was Padme’s blood taking over the planet made her even more upset. What would the former Queen say if she were here now? Would she tell them to fight? Would she tell them not to lose hope? Ro had always looked up to Senator Amidala since she was young and had been the whole reason she had pursued this career. Yet, here she stood watching the world around her fall apart, and she didn’t know what she could do.

“Any falcons in the skies?” Seraphine finally asked before glancing up at the Senator. They had spoken in code to keep any unwanted listeners from learning anything private.

“No, but we hear there are foxes in the woods,” Ro answered back before shaking her head. The falcons meant TIE fighters and foxes were the troopers on the ground. There had been no TIES today, which struck her as odd. The TIES had been flying overhead since Emperor Ren sent the transmission that he would take Naboo for the Final Order. The TIES were to keep any unwanted visitors away and also to stop any type of uprising. Storm Troopers had arrived the day after and patrolled the grounds. They didn’t interfere with people who were leaving the planet but made sure that the ones who were staying understood that they wouldn’t tolerate anyone starting trouble. Hearing them march or hearing the TIEs fly overhead made Ro’s stomach churn, and she would fight not to become sick. She never thought that certain sounds would ever make her sick. It almost made her feel embarrassed. She couldn’t show fear. Ro wouldn’t allow the Final Order to see her fear. The senator wondered if there would ever be a chance that everyone could return to Naboo. They should fight, but they wouldn’t stand a chance against Emperor Ren and his forces.

“I know you want to fight, Senator Citlali. I see the fire in your eyes.” Seraphine stated as she looked over at the woman standing beside her. She admired Aurora in the short time that she had gotten to know her. She had become like an older sister to her, but now that her own family had left, Aurora was the only family she had left. Seraphine clung more and more to the woman in these last days, where the future was unknown to them.

“Forgive me, m’lady. I simply don’t want to lose our home.” Ro’s fingers twitched at her side as she watched the transport shuttles close and departed. This would be the last transport for Naboo. There weren’t many left now. Just the ones who were too stubborn to leave, and no one dared fight them. They had been through too much to just leave their home. No one had ever told her the surrendering was hard. No one had ever told her that surrendering would make a wildfire spread through her body.

“Shall we take a walk?”

“Of course, m’lady.”

The arrival. . . .

They had spent all night preparing for this moment and no matter how much they smiled or laughed; it didn’t ease their fears. Ro had spent most of the morning preparing the Queen for their guests. They dressed her in a replica of Queen Amidala’s gown. The queen had worn the crimson and black dress when she had met with the Trade Federation so long ago. Seraphine had hoped that she would channel the beloved Queen’s bravery, but so far she felt even more scared. Adding the headdress had been the hardest part for Ro. Glancing in the mirror, she sighed. This would be the last time that she would ever wear this or any of her other gowns. Ro had sworn it wouldn’t but the young queen knew the truth. She was going to accept it. Senator Citlali had left alone to finish getting ready. This was the last time that they would be home. One last look in the mirror, Seraphine nodded at herself and turned to leave the room. She would meet Aurora in the throne room, where they would wait for the Final Order to arrive.

Senator Citlali stared at herself in the mirror. Her long hair braided and resting over her left shoulder. Dressed in a long black saffron dress, the plunging neckline opening of her dress that stopped just a little above her belly button revealed her black bra underneath. The light golden details showed the lace details on the bra itself. She would wear the black drape around her shoulders. She looked as if she was mourning, and she was. Her fingers stroked the pendant that rested at the bottom of her necklace. It could easily be mistaken for just a simple necklace, but there was a much more sinister purpose. One that she hadn’t even told the Queen about. This was just a precaution. This was if things became too much and Ro couldn’t believe that she had let herself do this. Aurora wanted to believe that maybe something would go differently today when they arrived, but that was a cruel lie that she was telling herself. Slipping on the ebony sandal that had thin straps that went to her ankles, Ro reached for the black drape that had the same gold stitching as her bra. The last thing she grabbed was the blaster and kept it covered. It was time.

The Queen sat on her throne with the Senator sitting beside her. It had been quiet for the longest time until Seraphine watched Ro. The woman was sitting straight up with her leg crossed over the other. Looking at the white polish on her nails that Seraphine had done last night. However, her outfit had caught the Queen off guard.

“Are you planning on seducing the Final Order, Senator?” Seraphine chuckled. She knew the question was going to catch Ro off guard and hearing the Senator laugh was better than the silence they had been sitting in.

“Seducing the Emperor? The Empress would have my head. No, I thought I would just woo a trooper and take his blaster. A daring escape.” Smirking, she uncrossed her leg and winked at the young girl. She could only imagine what she was feeling in these moments, the weight that had been on her shoulders, and now it was being lifted in a way. She reached her hand out to take Seraphina’s and gave it a squeeze. They only had each other now, and it might not be for too much longer. The Final Order could do whatever they wanted when they got here, but they weren’t alone.

“Show them no fear, m’lady.”

xxxx

Captain Dameron and his squadron were the first to land, and Poe was more than happy to stretch his legs. Storm Troopers were already crowding around him to give him their reports and he only half-heartedly listens to them. It wasn’t their fault for simply doing their duty, but he had other things on his mind. He had been securing the area before Emperor Ren’s boot touched the soil of Naboo. His eyes scanned over the capital and stopped at the sight of the palace. Was it checked recently?

“Is the palace cleared out? What about the Queen?” Captain Dameron asked as he walked towards the palace. He didn’t want this to turn into a bloodbath the moment that they went into the palace. He was certain it wouldn’t end well for the rioting side.

“Queen Seraphine hasn’t left the planet along with another. We have identified the other individual with her as Senator Citlali, and they’re both in the palace. They haven’t left since the last transport.” The trooper spoke as Poe listened. So there was a fourteen-year-old girl and a senator in the palace? That wasn’t awful.

“What do we know about the Senator? Are they dangerous? Any ties to the Resistance?” Poe asked. He wanted to make there wasn’t anything that they weren’t walking into some trap. People did ridiculous things when they were desperate, and this time he didn’t want to shed any blood. He especially didn’t want to shed any blood in front of a teenage girl. He never understood why Naboo had always elected to have young Queens. He couldn’t imagine that being his daughter or even son. He would constantly be worried about them. The other thought that bothered him was that the family of the Queen had just left their daughter. They left her alone. That very well could be the reason the senator was still here.

“She doesn’t have any ties to the Resistance. No military training. She was born here. That’s all we know.”

That was reassuring. Not a threat to him or anyone else. It was time for them to make their way to the palace to do one more last sweep, and then he would report back to Kylo that it was safe for his arrival. However, Kylo had nothing to fear, anyway. He could easily eliminate any threat that even attempted some attack. However, Poe knew this was a precaution. This was to make sure that nothing went wrong. He would give the Emperor hell for doing his dirty work one day. It was always nice to be the childhood friend of the Emperor and Empress. It always helped that he was on the good side of the most high-ranking officials of the Order. However, he knew there were officers and others that questioned his loyalty. They thought he would turn traitor at the moment that it benefited him. That moment had never come. Poe was well aware of what they whispered the moment his back turned. He wanted to think that they were merely jealous. He was one of the greatest pilots in the entire galaxy, and he was in the good graces of the Order’s top command. Most didn’t know the bond that they all shared. How they were practically family. How he will do anything to make sure that not only were they safe but also the galaxy. They were his family.

The walk to the palace was taking longer than he expected, but his droid had joined him not long after. The droid was better company than some troopers that marched beside him. The area surrounding the palace was just as remarkable as the royal palace itself. No wonder Kylo had insisted on claiming this planet. Although he wasn’t enjoying how quiet it was. He knew that there had been an evacuation the days prior, but he had caught glimpses of faces in the windows of what he thought were businesses. Poe hoped that in the future that he could see the streets bustling with people once more. He would love to see it thriving once again.

“One more sweep of the palace. Check everywhere. Meet me in the throne room when you’re done. If you come across anyone, bring them there and we’ll see what to do.” Poe ordered while the troopers nodded and scattered to start their sweep.

“Alright BB, let’s see what happens in that throne room. Kylo won’t mind me keeping the throne warm for him.” Poe smirked before scratching the shaved part of his undercut. It was getting long again. BB replied with several beeps that caused the pilot to laugh while they made their way to the throne room.

Upon entering the throne room, Poe wasn’t expecting two things. One, the two girls that were occupying it. Two the warning shots from the blaster that the woman had aimed at his feet. She was certainly an excellent shot, and it had stopped the captain in his tracks and even made BB move behind him. His hands were up in defense to keep her from taking another shot. His eyes scanned the room to look for anyone waiting to ambush them. His eyes landed on the young queen, that was gripping the edges of the armrests of the throne. Her knuckles were paling as she looked at the other woman. The Queen had sprung up to grab the free arm of the woman and whispered pleas not to shoot him. That had to be Senator Citlali. His gaze trailed up her form and noted the rather interesting dress that she wore. She had tossed the dark drape to the side that hid the blaster. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of her. Was that a custom dress style for Nabooian women?

“Is that a traditional Naboo welcome, Senator?”

“It is for the tyrants and their dogs.”

“I was talking about the dress.”

Poe grinned, watching as Senator Citlali gripped the Queen’s hand tightly. She was certainly distracting. He couldn’t help but trail his eyes down the chain of the long necklace that she wore. The pendant meant nothing, but his eyes would wander even more to where his imagination could start. She still had the blaster pointed at him, and he was certainly in no position to be upsetting the woman. Yet, a sneaking suspension told him she wouldn’t do anything that would harm the Queen. Poe didn’t want to harm either of them. He wanted no more bloodshed, and especially not in front of a teenage girl. There had to be a way to calm the Senator down to talk, at least. Kylo might not be in such a forgiving mood when he got here.

“Senator Citlali, please lower your blaster. I’m not here to harm you or the Queen. You can trust me.” Poe kept his hands where she could still see them. He knew she would not believe him, and she had every right not to. He was the enemy. Her enemy. He had a hand in taking her home. The captain was surprised that she had given him a warning shot, she could have easily gotten a better shot. She could have taken him out, but she hadn’t. It was possible that she didn’t want to subject the Queen to such a sight. They were agreeing on one thing, it seemed. Making sure that they caused no more trauma to the young queen. They were doing their best to keep her in mind during this altercation between them.

“Trust the lapdog of the Final Order? Please tell me you understand why I have a hard time doing that.” She scoffed at him before guiding Seraphine behind her. She was serving as a shield for the young girl and was doing her best to be brave for her. The sounds of the marching Stormtroopers only got louder. A thin layer of sweat was forming on her brow, and she felt her stomach tighten once more with nerves. Her hand remains steady as she kept the blaster trained on him and her gaze was cold. There was no chance of her lowering it soon. The stand-off couldn’t go on much longer with the troopers making their way to the throne. That was all they needed. They would outnumber her, and she wouldn’t be able to keep Seraphine safe.

“I understand your hesitation but imagine the stormtrooper seeing this. You’ll have more on your hands. Just lower the blaster and we can talk. I won’t approach you yet.” He continued to keep his eyes on her. The troopers would only add more stress to this situation. People did crazy things in stressful situations. Her arm slowly lowed, and he gave her a small smile. She would listen, and that was a step in the right direction. However, the queen was hugging the senator tightly, and that caused her to wrap an arm around the teenage girl and nestle her into her side. Her walls were coming down as she whispered what Poe assumed were words of comfort.

“Don’t come any closer to us. I will shoot.” Ro warned him, as she let the blaster fall to the floor and completely wrap her arms around the queen. She had no plans to shoot him. She just wanted to calm Seraphine more than anything. The stormtroopers had cut their moment short upon their arrival into the throne room, blaster drawn. Poe could have screamed at all of them. The senator had swept the queen back behind her and went to reach for the blaster.

“Hey! Lower the weapons! She will not shoot!” Poe’s tone had changed, and he glared at all surrounding troopers. This throne room was getting too crowded for his liking and this was going to add more edge to the situation that he had been trying to handle previously. The senator would fall back into her fight-or-flight response, and Poe knew she was going to fight before ever running away. She was already proving how much of a fighter she was, and not with just her words. “The Emperor won’t enjoy having to hear my report about stormtroopers who disobeyed their commanding officer. Grand Marshal won’t like it either. Now, stand down and let me handle this.”

The troopers did as they were told, and Ro’s shoulder remained tense as she watched them. Seraphine hadn’t stopped shaking, and Ro continued to hold her tighter and tried to keep her calm. It wasn’t working. Her mind told her to reach for the blaster that rested behind her left foot, but that would be foolish, and she opened herself. Her best bet was to just let the captain actually do his job and listen to his offer. What was the worst that he could do or say? Her own heart had pounded in her chest, and she felt herself fighting back any tears that threatened to fall. Don’t show fear. Ro thought of her previous words. She wouldn’t show fear. The thought of why the captain was keeping his men from doing anything was looming in the back of her mind. He could easily save a harsh punishment for her. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment and counted to herself, hoping that she could ground herself again. It was hard to remain strong when she could feel herself breaking. The situation grows more intense with each passing second.

“Senator Citlali, I think it would be best if you came with us back to the Steadfast where we can discuss what will happen next.”

“I refuse to leave the Queen. We stay together.”

“I can make sure of that. Will you come peacefully or will I need to use binders?”

The mention of binders made Seraphine grip her dress tighter. Ro didn’t want to parade the poor girl around as if she was some prisoner. She didn’t want to look that way, either. Sighing, the senator realized that she would have to play nice with the enemy. She would have to be on her best behavior. Before she could answer, there was another sound of footsteps that were coming down the hallway. They echoed louder than what the stormtroopers had, and Ro knew without a doubt that Emperor Ren and his knights were here. . .

“Shit. I told him I would tell him when it was safe.”

Poe couldn’t help but groan as everyone in the room seemed to squirm. They all knew who was about to make his presence known, and that meant that anything could occur. The captain could only hope that Kylo would make anything worse. He figured that Empress would have told him to be on his best behavior while he was down here just in case. The room seemed to go older upon the Emperor and his knights stepping into the room. A slight shiver ran up Poe’s spine and he watched as everyone stood at attention for their leader. Exhaling through his nose, he waited to see what the man would say about his tardiness in contacting him. Still, his eyes remained on the Senator, who was doing her best not to fear what was to come. He wanted to promise her it would be alright. That Emperor Ren wasn’t looking to harm anyone. He wouldn’t Kylo do something so foolish. He watched as her fingers gripped the queen’s dress. Seraphine hadn’t even lifted her head up to see who was coming into her throne room. She wasn’t trying to be a Queen anymore; she was just a teenage girl. A scared teenage girl.

“Captain Dameron, you sent no communication. We were worried something had gone wrong.”

“Worried? I think you mean impatient, your highness.”

“Are these the prisoners?”

The word prisoners made Poe cringe a little. He hadn’t called them that and had even said he wouldn’t use binders on them. Kylo was making him look like a liar, and he could feel the glare from the senator on him. That wasn’t the way he wanted her to look at him. The knight stood close to him and their emperor. The silence of the room was deafening as they all waited to see what would happen.

“This is Queen Seraphine and Senator Citlali. I told them that if they came peacefully -”

“He wouldn’t put us in binders, but he’s a liar! Much like everyone in the Final Order.” Ro spat as she looks at them. His shoulders squared before moving Seraphine behind her once more. Poe knew what could happen, and he didn’t want to see that. He didn’t want Kylo to harm the woman who was just upset over what was going on. However, Poe knew Kylo didn’t have the best temper. He was in a tight spot.

“Your highness, I said that. I wanted to them see we weren’t so horrible. I kept her calm.” Poe continued, but he wasn’t sure if Kylo was listening behind his helmet. His umber eyes remain on the older woman to make sure that she wasn’t being touched by the Force. He would have to step in if Kylo tried to use it on her.

“Do you believe her to be harmless, Captain?” Kylo asked, before turning to face Poe. The captain already turning to face him. They trusted each other. Poe wasn’t entirely sure that Senator Citlali was harmless, but he didn’t want to be deemed a liar.

“Yes. I will escort her and the queen to the shuttle. I say we discuss everything back on the Steadfast. Both of them are clearly distressed about the situation.”

“Fine, take them to the shuttle and prepare to take them back to the Steadfast. I have matters to attend to here. I’ll keep my knights with me. Prepare the others to depart with you.” Kylo spoke, as Poe nodded his head.

“You heard your Emperor. Prepare to depart! Senator Citlali, Queen Seraphine, please come with me.” Poe held his hand out to the Senator. Her eyes held nothing but pure disgust before she took a few steps towards the exit, bowing to the Emperor. The Queen did the same and squeezed Ro’s hands as they left the room, leaving Poe alone with the Emperor. The men waited a few moments before Kylo took off his helmet, a gloved hand carding through his hair to push it back.

“I had it under control. She was just scared and I don’t blame her.” Poe started before Kylo rose a brow.

“I’m sure you did. That’s why there’s a blaster mark on the floor. Tell me, how did she distract you? How did she catch you off guard? Your thoughts are loud, Dameron.”

“Like you have room to talk when it’s your wife. Now, if you’ll excuse me, your highness, I need to make sure they’re comfortable.” Rolling his eyes, Poe started out of the throne room with BB-8 close behind him. It didn’t take him long to catch up with the others, but he noticed how the senator kept the queen close to her. Clearing his throat as he approached them, he gave them a small smile. “The transport isn’t too far, and I won’t be separating you. I ask that you don’t kill me on the way. I’m certain we can find you some food and water if you need it? Maybe caf.”

He noted that the woman wasn’t listening to him in the slightest, but Seraphine seemed to be a little more relaxed. With a curt nod, he led them to the shuttle and spoke little. He saluted all that he passed along the way and tried not to let the silence of the girls bother him. Poe wanted to show them that the Final Order wasn’t as horrible as they thought. They were going to keep the galaxy safe and bring order. This was going to be better for everyone. He truly believed that. He believed in what they were doing. Approaching the shuttle, Poe took one last look at Naboo and made a note that he would visit again. He might even bring the senator back if she would allow him. “Watch your step, Seraphine.”

“Queen Seraphine.” Senator Citlali snapped, which cause him to lift his hands up once more.

“You have some bite, Citlali. I might have to put you in those binders.” He grinned before following behind them to prepare for their departure.

“Touch me and I’ll make sure that this shuttle never makes it to the Steadfast,” Ro spoke as she turned to face him. Her shoulder squared as she tried to make herself a little bigger. He liked her.

“Aurora, leave Captain Dameron alone. Please take your seat.” Seraphine spoke sternly as she had buckled herself in. Poe rose a brow as he watched Aurora turn on her heels and go to the queen. He hadn’t planned on learning her first name, but now he couldn’t help but grin. He could see how devoted Aurora was to the young queen, and he could admire that. He was just as loyal to Kylo and the others. They were his family.

They spent the rest of the time in silence as Poe began his flight preparations. None of them will break that silence just to make awkward small talk. Instead, Ro had helped take off the headpiece that Seraphine had been wearing. She even took down her hair to comb through to help the young queen relax during the journey. Seraphine had curled up the moment that they took off. Her eyes grew heavy, and she had fallen asleep. Ro’s slender fingers working through her hair as she slept. The cold air of the shuttle made goosebumps form on the exposed skin of her midsection and the top part of her cleavage. She cursed herself for not grabbing the drape when they were leaving the throne room. Her arms were getting goosebumps from the chilled air.

“Here.” Poe’s voice startled her as she looked up at him. In one hand, he held out a black leather jacket with the symbol of the Final Order on the shoulders. She took it with reluctance. Placing her arms through the sleeves, thankful for something to put a barrier between her skin and the chilled air. Next, he handed her a cup of hot tea. Her eyes following the tendrils of steam as it swirled in the air. “I didn’t have any caf. It’ll help you warm up. Not too much longer until we arrive at the Steadfast.”

She only nodded her head at him before taking a small sip of the tea. The leather jacket smelled of the captain, but she couldn’t help to feel a little comfort from it. It was probably just from the warmth that was giving her. Captain Dameron had gone back to his seat and was back to watching all the control along with their course. Seraphine stirred for a moment before Ro hummed once more. She would not let the teenage girl feel alone, especially not around their enemies. They only had each other now. They wouldn’t establish trust with anyone from now on. They had to show them they were strong and wouldn’t be their prisoners. However, Ro already felt like a prisoner despite not wearing the binders. Her new journey made her feel like a prisoner.

“Twenty minutes until arrival. . .”

#TW: the use of the word blood #TW: mentions of anxiety #FO!Poe x OFC #My writing #My OC #Mar's writing #TW: Slight cursing #Scheduled post

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dailyaudiobible · 4 years ago

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05/13/2021 DAB Transcript

1 Samuel 14:1-52, John 7:31-53, Psalm 109: 1-31, Proverbs 15:5-7

Today is the 13th day of May welcome to the Daily Audio Bible I'm Brian it is wonderful to be here with you today like every day as we come around the Global Campfire together and just find our places and allow the Scriptures to continue speaking out the journey before us. We’re in the book of First Samuel right now in the Old Testament and we have been learning about Israel's first king, Saul. And Saul indeed has a lot to teach us about leadership and about our own motivations and our own fears and all of our Achilles heels. And we will see some of that continue in the story today as we get to know Jonathan, Saul's son, Prince Jonathan. And, so, let's dive in. First Samuel chapter 14.

Commentary:

Okay. So, in the book of first Samuel today we got a situation that Saul has navigated himself into. I guess probably a decade maybe, I don't know how long ago there was this song, it was a very popular song, it was even used in a television commercial, but the…sort of the lines, the payoff lines in the chorus were, “it feels like the only way is the wrong way.” I guess I always remember that song because sometimes it feels like that. It’s just kind of what Saul has navigated himself into - the only way is the wrong way. And, so, what we witnessed today is the first kind of…it's a small one, but it's an actual uprising against the king, a confrontation with the king who is supposed to have the power of life and death in his hand. And now we see that the people aren’t so sure about that, at least those in his army. So, we just read the story. Very briefly, Jonathan the Prince, like the son of the king takes his armor bearer and they go and confront the Philistines and that sets off a chain reaction where the Philistines begin to fight with each other and then the Israelites charge down and they get in the battle and Saul sort of seeing that the enemy is in disarray wants to take advantage of the situation, but trying to appear to be this mighty strong leader, like he commands his army, “nobody eats until we've got our vengeance.” And these guys are in battle. They are in hand-to-hand combat. So, they’re expending a lot of energy and they're losing it quickly, and they cannot continue without eating. And, so, this slows them down. Of course, it was Jonathan, it was Jonathan who started the whole thing. He didn't ever hear the command, “not eat anything.” And, so, he eats the honeycomb and he's refreshed and the whole thing is a little bizarre to Jonathan because he knows like everybody…we have to have energy if we’re going to fight. In the end this comes down to “God won't talk to Saul”, and Saul wants to figure out who disobeyed one of his commands. And, so, as the story goes, it's Jonathan that's identified. That…that's the situation that Saul has gotten himself into where the only way is the wrong way because he's put a curse on anybody who eats. Like he's saying that…that the person who has sinned and disobeyed him is going to die, even if it's in his own family. And, so, now he's in the situation where the Prince of Israel is about to be executed for disobeying his dad, disobeying a command that he never heard, that he didn't even know about until after the fact. So, Jonathan's like, “okay it was me. I did it and I'm ready to die.” Saul, his dad, is like “and die, you will”, basically. “And die, you shall. This is, you know, this is…this is the punishment.” It's pretty staggering, actually. And, so, the people then confront the king and there like, “no. no. this is not right. This is not how this should go because the enemy is in flight from us, and that could only be have…have been done by God. And Jonathan is the one that brought us this victory. So, there's no way we’re gonna execute Jonathan.” And, so, Saul once again then is humiliated before his people. One of the things that he is most sensitive to, like this is his weakness and he's humiliated again. He wants to be a strong leader, but probably more important, he wants to look like a strong leader. And, so, he's plagued by this insecurity. He’s like more concerned with the image of the thing than actually being the king. And that insecurity just about cost him his son. So, we can look at this story and go, “okay. I see it now. I see it.” Shake our head up and down, “yes, I see this now. I see how this is affecting his kingdom and his kingship.” And then we can take our head in disagreement. Like, “no. That…that shouldn't be done.” And then we have to go look in the mirror. How many times, how many situations have we navigated ourselves into where the only way was the wrong way? And, so, the thing we’re trying to navigate away from, right, we’re trying to protect our pride or we’re trying to keep our insecurities hidden but then we get into these situations and then we’re humiliated, and our pride is exposed and our insecurities are exposed and people get hurt and misunderstanding and just all this stuff that starts to unravel, when there was pride and insecurity and then a precipice, a fall. It’s incredibly interesting how much of ourselves we can see in king Saul and how much the story of King Saul invites self-examination and change.

Prayer:

Holy Spirit come. We invite You into…into everything that’s ever said from the Scriptures. We need You to lead us into all truth. Your…You are the final point of truth. It is You that we seek. It is Your guidance that we seek because we are quote unquote truth from all angles. Everybody thinks that they've got a corner on things when it is You and You alone that can lead us into all truth. And, so, do that please we ask of You in the name of Jesus, lead us into all truth, that we might be continually transformed, that we might be light, that we might be true, that we might be Christlike. We pray this in the name of Jesus. Amen.

Announcements:

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And that's it for today. I’m Brian I love you and I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow.

Community Prayer and Praise:

Hello DAB family this is Dr. John from Jordan New York. To the young lady that called stating that she was six weeks pregnant and not sure what to do. I heard this on my way back from the hospital just after delivering a baby. And it’s interesting because I’ve had other patients who have been told by other doctors, they can’t get pregnant and then they come to me pregnant. So, yeah, you’re not the first person to be told that and it not be true. God doesn’t make mistakes. This pregnancy is not a mistake and God has a special plan for this child of yours. Whether that’s for you to have the…the child go up for adoption to provide a couple who can’t have children with children…a child or whether it’s for you to raise a child, I’m not sure. That’s something that you’ll figure out with God. But just trust him. Trust him that he will provide a way for you, He will provide everything that you need. And be thankful for this great blessing that you have. So, if you have any questions or just want another ear you can email me [email protected]. And just put in the subject DAB and that will alert me to the sender. All right take care sweetheart. Good luck we love you and God is with you.

Hello Daily Audio Bible my name is Caroleena I’ve been listening for about three years or so thanks to my amazing sister-in-law who shared this with me. But this is my first time calling. Today in the United States we’re celebrating Mother’s Day. And I just want to pray for those who maybe are going through a difficult time and this day is not a day to rejoice, maybe if anyone has lost their mothers or grandmothers and miss them dearly or a maternal figure in their life or maybe your mom is alive but for whatever reason you’re not talking to them or maybe yourself you’ve been trying to become a mom. I was one of those and it was only until God led me to adoption that now I became a mother and my little one is my biggest joy and my biggest gift. So, Father I…I lift everyone who is suffering today, and that this day is not a day of celebration. I ask that your love it’s upon them that you make them feel that they are seen, and loved, and cared for Lord no matter the circumstances. And that whatever miracle they need in their life and that they could also hear voice clearly as to what to do Lord. We love you. We thank you for this day, despite how difficult it is for many. And thank you all our Mom’s who’ve poured so much into our lives.

Good Evening Daily Audio Bible family my name is Reverend Joseph Sackett. I was just very moved by Carissa who called in yesterday about her uncle Joey who struggles with alcoholism. I just want to let you know it struck me because I too have six siblings one of whom passed away. I am 50 years old and for 30 years of my life I was a more or less hopeless variety of alcoholic. I was saved at a young age, but I was very depressed and struggled with alcoholism from about 18 to about 45 years old. However, after finally hitting those rock bottoms and ending up homeless and in jail six years ago I can let you know that there is hope, there is light at the end of the tunnel. Nobody thought that I would ever stop drinking Charissa, but I am an Uncle Joey. I’ve been called Joey all my life. I’ve got the six siblings and I’ve got the alcohol problem. And God delivered me April 7th, 2016 and in the past six years I’ve become an ordained minister and I pastor in a recovery ministry helping other people. I just had to call him and say, Joey can make it because Joey already did. In Jesus’ name I pray for Joey to be delivered from this alcoholism and I recommend that maybe he tries out something in your community called celebrate recovery. God bless you. Brian y’all are…

This is listener in Maryland, and I have come to the community of Daily Audio Bible to the campfire. I like that analogy because if you are moving through the night and you see the light of a campfire you move towards it and when you…you get to the campfire you…you feel the warmth of the campfire and then the community of the campfire and all of that is very comforting and centering. So, this is a place that I come for comfort and centering. I do it daily usually early in the morning because that’s when I have to put on my full armor of God to make it through the rest of the day. And particularly now with this night that we are moving through, some call it the pandemic or whatever, but we need the light and warmth and destination of a campfire. So, thank you, Brian for providing this platform. Thank the staff that makes it run. And for the rest of us, give, i.e., throw a couple logs on the campfire whenever you can. And as…whatever you can to keep the light in the warmth and community of this campfire going.

Hello and greetings from beautiful Cincinnati Ohio. I’m actually…this is Daniel Johnson Junior by the way. I’m in Northwestern Hamilton County about 25 feet from the Great Miami River. I’m in a park that’s often become a place I’ve come and done a DAB long walk in many years passed. And I’m looking at the Great Miami River. It’s…it’s…it’s much greater and stays than usual. Probably the top of it’s probably traveling along at a good clip probably about 25 - 30 miles an hour. But I'm also struck by just these birds that are singing. Listen to that. God is taking care of these birds. They’re just so joyful and going out and getting their food looking for whatever it is. And I'm struck by like…Gods taken care of me too. In the past years I…there was one year that I actually wrote in the sand alongside this great Miami River first Samuel 4:12 thus far the Lord has helped us. And I took a rock from the side of this this riverbed, and I have…I have it with me today to this day. God's taken care of me. God's taken care of the birds of this air. I don’t know what my job future holds right now but God is taking care of it. And I'm struck by that emotionally today. It is made the 10th. We just got done reading one of the psalms and it was recounting Israel's history and just was another indication for me that the only way to know about Israel's history or our history and to reclaim…to talk about the ways that God has been helping us is to record it. And it's another just call for me to continue journaling. So, hey, from beautiful Cincinnati OH I wish you could be here with me right now. This is so beautiful. But you are because I'm thinking about you guys, all of you. It's Daniel Don Johnson Junior. God, bless you make it a great day.

Hi yes, my name is Dana Smith and it's been a while since I've been on here. I live in Alabama and I just have a prayer request. I work manufacturing and about two weeks ago I had finally had enough of…of being pretty much bullied at work and went to human resources. And anyways it just has been a rough 2 weeks and the men that are doing this, it's just there's a lot that's happened. I know God's in control but if you all could pray that God will soften their hearts and…and turn them away for the way that they're being, but also those that are in management that are in control that know that it's going on will step in. You know, we think as we get older that things like this won't happen, but they do. And, like I said, I know God's in control but I'm struggling because God blessed me with an amazing job, an amazing job. And because I grew up in an abusive home, I have a hard time dealing when people are…especially men…have that domineering way about them. And, so, it makes me hard to stand up for myself. And a lot of people don't understand that and they're like, “manufacturing is a rough job, a cut through job, and blah blah this.” And I'm like, you know what, it doesn't matter where you work at you should never have to put up with bullying. So again, my name is Dana from Alabama. If you all could pray that God's divine…he will divinely intervene and that everything will work out because right now being isolated and being not part of a team, it’s just gotten really bad. And this is…this is my life this is my job. And I just ask for y'all's prayers, that everything will come together in God's will. Thank you all so much.

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judgmentofcorruption · 4 years ago

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Episode 10–The Court Ends; Scene 5

Judgment of Corruption, pages 288-294

These spectacles by the name of “trials”—when was it that Gallerian had first made them into a farce, I wonder.

Was it when he declared Bindi innocent? Was it what happened with Loki? Or perhaps it was when he first acted as head judge in Ma’s trial.

No, now that I think on it, it was the first trial that Gallerian had been witness to—when he was a baby, and Elluka had received the death penalty.

From birth, he had always been involved in sham trials.

“I shall declare my verdict.”

Head judge Gallerian’s calm voice rang through the courtroom.

The visitor’s gallery was packed with people. This spoke to how closely society was watching this trial.

“Kill the vicious general!” someone from the gallery shouted.

As the courtroom began to fall into an uproar, Gallerian pounded the gavel he held in his hand twice.

“Silence.”

With just that single, calm word, the courtroom immediately fell silent.

The power to command the room—you could say that was one of the abilities sought after by a head judge.

…Looking at Gallerian now, I couldn’t help but feel as though I was seeing what Hanma Baldured had once been.

I know what happened to him after he left the Dark Star Bureau.

But I have no need to explain that here.

This is Gallerian’s story, not Hanma’s.

“Defendant Tony Ausdin—is innocent.”

Just as expected, the gallery exploded into chaos and shouts from Gallerian’s pronouncement.

“You’re bullshitting me!”

“There’s no way you’ll get away with this tyranny!”

Most of them were leveled at Tony and Gallerian.

He ignored them, and proceeded on to explain the reasons for his verdict.

--To sum up, he essentially accepted Tony’s version of events.

That the act of the second division was a just deed, committed due to the possibility of the Zenosai villagers having defected to the enemy, and to protect their unit.

His reasoning was that it was a villager who attacked first, and thus the unit’s counterattack was not an issue in wartime conditions.

Second Lieutenant Shiro Netsuma’s death was an accident due to a gun misfire, and not through any error of the defendant…And so on.

After finishing his explanation, Gallerian announced amidst the continuing racket:

“Court is adjourned.”

Then he struck his gavel one last time.

After taking a look at Tony’s satisfied smile, Gallerian stood and started to head for the exit.

--There was a figure in the final row of the visitor’s gallery who quietly watched him go.

It was the former sergeant major of the USE allied forces, Gammon Octo.

He had quit the military after his older brother’s trial. It seemed that presently he had become a member of the “Tasan” party in Elphegort.

After Gallerian left the courtroom, Gammon muttered to himself, “…Now you’re finished. Gallerian Marlon.”

Just as he said, this was to be—the final trial Gallerian would conduct as head judge.

There to greet Gallerian when he returned to the director’s room was Bruno, Hel, and Feng.

“Oh, what’s wrong? You’re all three here.”

Hel stood in front of Gallerian as he cheerfully took his seat, and declared:

“—I’ve decided to quit PN and the Dark Star Bureau, effective today.”

“…What!? You can’t just do that without permission from—” As Gallerian thoughtlessly moved to stand, Hel smacked his cheek with the palm of her hand. “…What are you thinking, Hel?”

“I’ve had enough. First it was Bindi, and now you’ve declared Tony innocent. –Tony, the man who murdered our friend Shiro. I’ve tried to put up with it, but I can no longer stand to be by your side. I don’t want my child to be ashamed of me, working for such a corrupt man as you.”

“…Were you not watching the trial? Shiro’s death was an accident.”

“Like I’d believe you after you accepted a bribe from the defendant!”

“That’s nothing but a rumor!”

Bruno moved between the two of them as they shouted at each other.

“—Director. We’ve received word from our secret intelligence unit. It seems that the Tasan party in Elphegort has obtained information that Tony’s defense attorney deposited money into your account. They’ve already started on the proceedings to indict you for this.”

“…Why did you not inform me of this before the trial!?”

“I only heard about it just now. After you had already gone ahead and declared your verdict. Tasan also apparently intends to investigate into suspicious areas of your past as well, Director.”

Gallerian turned back to Hel.

“I see. So you heard all that and thus hardened your resolve to leave me. –Hey, Feng. She struck me just now. That’s an act of assault. …Arrest Hel!”

But Feng didn’t move. Instead, he said to Gallerian, “Sorry, but I’m also no longer a member of PN.”

“…You’re abandoning me too!?”

“That’s not it. You betrayed us first, Gallerian. That I’ve obeyed you for this long was out of my sense of duty for you…But you threw that away yourself.”

“—Tch.” Gallerian pulled out a pistol from a drawer in his desk and pointed the muzzle at Feng. “If you two are to become my enemies, then I’ll kill you right here.”

“Hold on. I don’t know what’ll happen if that goes off in a place like this, and I don’t think you know either. And anyway…I wouldn’t be felled so easily by a peashooter like that. It’d be simple enough to rip out your throat before I die, at the very least.”

“…”

Appearing to give up on thoughts of detaining them, Gallerian quietly put the gun down.

“Gallerian. We’re leaving the Dark Star Bureau…but we don’t intend to become your enemy. We have no designs on your life—Though I won’t deny that I have thought about it. You need to face the judgment of the law, after all. The law that you twisted to your own ends.” Feng turned around, and said finally, “…For that’s what you yourself believed in, once.”

Then he left the room with Hel in tow.

Gallerian and Bruno were left alone in the director’s room.

“—What do you intend to do?” Gallerian asked Bruno.

“…Nothing. Only continue to serve you as I have done.”

“Your friends have left me. That just leaves Ma and—and two dead soldiers, a serial killer, and an inscrutable mail carrier. …You’re the only one who’s decent.”

“I wonder at that. I might just be the craziest of us all. I haven’t turned on you yet, despite these circumstances.”

“Why? Why have you not betrayed me?”

Bruno replied, chuckling faintly, “If I wanted to, I would have done so long ago. …To speak frankly, right now you are just as Feng says—you’ve forgotten the convictions you once held. You’re trash. Even if you have Michelle.”

“…”

“But I suppose it’s enough that there be at least one person who will stand by such trash until the end.…Just like the ‘Servant of Evil’, who once remained as an ally to the prideful princess, the ‘Daughter of Evil’, even dying in her place.”

“What, did you borrow that book from Ma and read it too?”

“Unfortunately I look nothing like you, so I wouldn’t make much of a body double, Director,” Bruno said, this time laughing more openly.

Several days later, just as Bruno’s information said, the Tasan party moved to indict Gallerian.

But contrary to expectation, they weren’t able to arrest him immediately. On Gallerian’s request Bindi had made preparations beforehand in secret, forbidding the World Police from acting.

--But this in turn invited the worst possible result.

Losing their temper, the Tasan Party leaked all of their information on the corruption of Gallerian and those around him to all forms of mass media.

These changes affecting the world that still hadn’t stopped, the continuing warfare—already miserable from these things, the hearts of the populace were ignited by these reports on the corruption that enfolded their government, their military, and their justice system.

On September 4th, year 983, a portion of the people in Holy Levianta’s capital Alicegrad started an uprising.

And from there, Levianta was engulfed in the flames of a civil war.

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woodlandtrust · 4 years ago

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A Forest Hymn - William Cullen Bryant

The groves were God's first temples. Ere man learned To hew the shaft, and lay the architrave, And spread the roof above them—ere he framed The lofty vault, to gather and roll back The sound of anthems; in the darkling wood, Amidst the cool and silence, he knelt down, And offered to the Mightiest solemn thanks And supplication. For his simple heart Might not resist the sacred influences Which, from the stilly twilight of the place, And from the gray old trunks that high in heaven Mingled their mossy boughs, and from the sound Of the invisible breath that swayed at once All their green tops, stole over him, and bowed His spirit with the thought of boundless power And inaccessible majesty. Ah, why Should we, in the world's riper years, neglect God's ancient sanctuaries, and adore Only among the crowd, and under roofs That our frail hands have raised? Let me, at least, Here, in the shadow of this aged wood, Offer one hymn—thrice happy if it find Acceptance in His ear.

Father, thy hand Hath reared these venerable columns, thou Didst weave this verdant roof. Thou didst look down Upon the naked earth, and, forthwith, rose All these fair ranks of trees. They, in thy sun, Budded, and shook their green leaves in thy breeze, And shot towards heaven. The century-living crow, Whose birth was in their tops, grew old and died Among their branches, till, at last, they stood, As now they stand, massy, and tall, and dark, Fit shrine for humble worshipper to hold Communion with his Maker. These dim vaults, These winding aisles, of human pomp or pride Report not. No fantastic carvings show The boast of our vain race to change the form Of thy fair works. But thou art here—thou fill'st The solitude. Thou art in the soft winds That run along the summit of these trees In music; thou art in the cooler breath That from the inmost darkness of the place Comes, scarcely felt; the barky trunks, the ground, The fresh moist ground, are all instinct with thee. Here is continual worship;—Nature, here, In the tranquillity that thou dost love, Enjoys thy presence. Noiselessly, around, From perch to perch, the solitary bird Passes; and yon clear spring, that, midst its herbs, Wells softly forth and wandering steeps the roots Of half the mighty forest, tells no tale Of all the good it does. Thou hast not left Thyself without a witness, in these shades, Of thy perfections. Grandeur, strength, and grace, Are here to speak of thee. This mighty oak,— By whose immovable stem I stand and seem Almost annihilated—not a prince, In all that proud old world beyond the deep, E'er wore his crown as loftily as he Wears the green coronal of leaves with which Thy hand has graced him. Nestled at his root Is beauty, such as blooms not in the glare Of the broad sun. That delicate forest flower, With scented breath and look so like a smile, Seems, as it issues from the shapeless mould, An emanation of the indwelling Life, A visible token of the upholding Love, That are the soul of this great universe.

My heart is awed within me when I think Of the great miracle that still goes on, In silence, round me—the perpetual work Of thy creation, finished, yet renewed Forever. Written on thy works I read The lesson of thy own eternity. Lo! all grow old and die—but see again, How on the faltering footsteps of decay Youth presses,—ever-gay and beautiful youth In all its beautiful forms. These lofty trees Wave not less proudly that their ancestors Moulder beneath them. O, there is not lost One of earth's charms: upon her bosom yet, After the flight of untold centuries, The freshness of her far beginning lies And yet shall lie. Life mocks the idle hate Of his arch-enemy Death—yea, seats himself Upon the tyrant's throne—the sepulchre, And of the triumphs of his ghastly foe Makes his own nourishment. For he came forth From thine own bosom, and shall have no end.

There have been holy men who hid themselves Deep in the woody wilderness, and gave Their lives to thought and prayer, till they outlived The generation born with them, nor seemed Less aged than the hoary trees and rocks Around them;—and there have been holy men Who deemed it were not well to pass life thus. But let me often to these solitudes Retire, and in thy presence reassure My feeble virtue. Here its enemies, The passions, at thy plainer footsteps shrink And tremble and are still. O God! when thou Dost scare the world with tempests, set on fire The heavens with falling thunderbolts, or fill, With all the waters of the firmament, The swift dark whirlwind that uproots the woods And drowns the villages; when, at thy call, Uprises the great deep and throws himself Upon the continent, and overwhelms Its cities—who forgets not, at the sight Of these tremendous tokens of thy power, His pride, and lays his strifes and follies by? O, from these sterner aspects of thy face Spare me and mine, nor let us need the wrath Of the mad, unchainèd elements to teach Who rules them. Be it ours to meditate, In these calm shades, thy milder majesty, And to the beautiful order of thy works Learn to conform the order of our lives.

#woodland trust #William Cullen Bryant #tree poetry #poetry

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jeanandthedreamofhorses · 5 years ago

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Eren the Free, Part 1: Response to linkspooky’s ‘Eren the Slave’

Thanks for asking for my response, anon, because it has allowed me to string together and articulate my own thoughts on Eren’s character at this stage of the story.

Needless to say, I have several interpretive, philosophical disagreements with @linkspooky‘s ‘Eren the Slave’ and these are expressed in my ‘Eren Jaeger – Who Freer than the Tyrant?’ meta, so please read that first. The purpose of this post will be to argue against specific claims made in linkspooky’s meta and tackle what I believe to be logical flaws in my opponent’s argument. This meta is in two parts not to flex but because my computer had an aneurysm trying to load the whole post.

Well, if the Defence in the trial of Eren Jaeger may take the floor, my opening statement is thus: Eren is no slave, and has pursued the path of freedom further than any other character.

Narrative and Personal Narrative

linkspooky draws a distinction between the Narrative of the manga and Eren’s Personal Narrative, the story he tells himself. They argue that people who have faith in Eren’s self-conception fall into his personal narrative.

But is his story not a Narrative? It is quite natural to expect character development from characters in a story - it could only rightly be called a mistake when it comes to real life. And do Eren’s detractors not themselves fall into the Personal Narratives of Armin, Mikasa and Zeke? They have repeatedly made the statement that Eren is not free, that he is being controlled by Zeke or Grisha, and every time he has proven them wrong.

There is indeed an authorial Narrative separate from the characters’ Personal Narratives which can be detected through symbolism and the course the story takes. I find that the course of the story thus far lines up far more with Eren’s Personal Narrative than it does with those of his detractors. We can tell this from how he has disproved Armin, Mikasa and Zeke’s accusations of manipulation and also how, in the last chapter, he symbolically rips free of his chains.

There is also the fact that we the readers are more in the dark about Eren’s thoughts and intentions than we are about any other character. How could we be seduced into a Personal Narrative we know next to nothing about? And why would the story deliberately hide from us the very perspective that is meant to deceive us? I think it is far more likely that the reason Eren’s intentions have been shielded from the reader is because they take the nature of a terrible truth that must be dug up with bloodied hands.

Whenever Eren opens up about his thoughts and feelings, the meta unfairly dismisses them as mere lip service despite Eren having no reason to lie to Reiner and Falco as two people he intends to kill.

Rather than our side of the fandom being deceived by Eren’s Personal Narrative, I find that the opposing side dismisses it out of hand because they have no intention of listening to Eren’s side of the story. Why is Eren’s perspective less valid than anyone else’s, especially when he knows more than every other character by virtue of his ability to literally see the future?

The only explanation I can find for this attitude, if I may be forgiven the presumption, is that people approach the topic with the automatic assumption that what Eren is doing has to be wrong instead of questioning their own morals - which is, after all, what Attack On Titan is all about.

Armin even says that he no longer understands Eren. I don’t think we should trust the perception of a character as being authorial Narrative when he explicitly makes a statement like this. linkspooky does have an explanation for this scene, however, which I shall address in the next part.

Armin and Mikasa’s Perceptions of Eren

linkspooky claims that the reason for Armin’s confusion is that his romanticised view of Eren is falling apart, which indeed it is, and the same is true of Mikasa. However, I don’t think it’s right to claim that their new perception of him is an accurate one, since they still haven’t heard anything from Eren himself apart from what both I and linkspooky agree are lies to distance himself from them.

While they both once focused excessively on the positive in Eren, now they focus excessively on the negative, not considering the reason for Eren’s actions that I believe we have received hints of in the last two chapters.

linkspooky and I both think that Eren wants to protect his friends - in my case I most definitely see it as his primary motivation. If Armin knew this about Eren, I do not think he would condone him, but I don’t think he’d so roundly condemn him as he does here either.

So I don’t think it is right to consider Armin’s words the straight truth here, given the lack of information he’s working with, and that indeed, the fandom is working with. Because Eren is doing the most morally questionable things, and because we are seeing things more often from Armin’s perspective than his these days, there is perhaps an impulse to put faith in Armin’s words over Eren’s. But in this series, nothing is ever so black and white.

In Mikasa’s case, her treasured memory of the scarf is now being being challenged by the memory of Eren murdering the kidnappers - but we know from 121 that Eren places special value on the scarf as well, instead of just the murder.

Rather than trying to paint Eren in a white or black light, they need to see Eren as he really is: like the freedom he represents, a force beyond good and evil.

Enemy of the World

One of linkspooky’s arguments is that being the ‘Enemy of the World’ is just Eren’s fantasy as he frequently relies on others. However, linkspooky also mentions how Eren manipulates everyone close to him. I would argue that the person who manipulates you is, in fact, your enemy, and that Eren is the Enemy of the World not because he never relies on help but because he is entirely on his own side.

Indeed he knows that assistance from others is necessary even just to activate the Founder’s power, and he also refers to the Survey Corps as his friends, or even comrades, depending on your translation.

This is why he manipulates them - and the reason he manipulates rather than relying on them is because he feels that his Will contradicts the Wills of everyone around him. There is no-one who desires the outcome that Eren desires, not even Floch and the Eldian nationalists, I believe: I think even they will baulk at the scale of destruction Eren intends. Historia is the only character I think may be an exception to this rule as the other bearer of the ‘enemies of mankind’ moniker.

This otherwise total isolation of intention is what makes Eren the Enemy of the World. Because he fights for his freedom, he rebels against peace.

I think this panel is another example of why the authorial Narrative itself supports the idea of Eren being an Enemy of the World. The positioning of the speech bubble and outside text was entirely the decision of Isayama and his editor, and is not a thought bubble from Eren’s head. He has never actually addressed himself as ‘the Enemy of the World’: Historia calls him the enemy of mankind and Willy says he rebels against peace, but while Eren has said he “might just destroy the world” and only in response to Willy’s words, he is still not ascribing himself a title or role.

Eren’s Individualism

linkspooky claims that the scene in the FT arc, where the Levi Squad is slaughtered because Eren didn’t rely on his power instead of theirs, is misinterpreted because Eren also lost the fight on his own. However, this is where I think this meta falls prey to one of its greatest weaknesses: the omission of the Uprising Arc from the analysis of Eren’s character, wherein his most pivotal transitions take place.

The event that caused Eren to trust in his own strength over the strength of others was not his fight against Annie, but when a similar situation repeats itself in the Crystal Cave.

In this circumstance, Eren is able to protect all of his friends by relying on his own strength, when they would have died had they attempted their risky manoeuvre. Eren has become strong enough to protect them on his own - this was the first inkling of that realisation.

I say ‘first inkling’ because Eren does say this afterwards, which seems to influence Armin towards his current ideology. Such an idea seems at odds with what I believe to be Eren’s current aim to genocide those different to him as a wholly antagonistic force, like the bullies in Armin’s memories who Armin now wants to make peace with.

I believe this is because Eren soon learns that those differences between people are simply too great and too much of a threat to his freedom. People are stronger together, but only if he can be confident that they will follow his Will, which is how he learned to manipulate his allies. The differences between him and Levi in the Serumbowl nearly caused the loss of his best friend, and then, when he receives Grisha’s memories and learns of Marley’s treatment of Eldians, he learns just how deeply divided humans are and loses faith in overcoming those differences.

Far from character stagnancy, this is the development I see in Eren that has led him to this individualistic conclusion.

I would also like to address what I think is a fallacy in linkspooky’s analysis of the fight Eren loses against Annie. Eren loses both with his comrades and without them - how does that make the former path any better than the latter? Eren was actually doing very well in his fight against Annie, and only lost when he realised her identity from her fighting stance.

What I think Eren really took away from that fight is the lesson he is applying now - he cannot show any mercy to his enemies.

Levi Parallelism

I find the parallels drawn between Eren and Levi quite interesting and am not necessarily opposed to it, but personally I find that Levi has more parallels with Mikasa than Eren as two Ackermans driven by their love for others (though of course this is a big part of Eren’s motivation as well). Mikasa realising she can’t protect Eren or always be by his side is more in line with Levi accepting that he can’t save everyone imo.

Those Who Push Themselves into that Hell

linkspooky draws attention to Eren’s use of language to indicate that he is not free, such as in the following scene:

They argue that the ‘something’ pushing Eren along means he is not moving from his own will.

However, I find this claim to be contradicted by the distinction Eren makes within this very scene. He differentiates between those who are pushed into hell by their circumstances and those who “push themselves into hell”, clearly putting himself - at least as he is now - in the latter category. So I find that Eren is articulating that, because his whole past and future are manifestations of his own Will (as I argue in the attached meta), he is freely choosing to enter this arena rather than being forced to do so.

I Just Keep Moving Forward

linkspooky also argues that the reluctance in the line “I just keep moving forward’” suggests a lack of freedom. I would argue that continuing to fight for your goal even though you are frightened is a sign of strength of will rather than the reverse.

They also argue that, because those words are remembered as Reiner is about to kill himself, they are portrayed in a negative light. But this omits the crucial follow-up to that scene, where Reiner does not kill himself and finds a reason to live after hearing Falco express his desire to protect Gabi. Reiner is saved by that will to keep moving forward.

They further argue that Eren takes these words from Hange and twists them to suit himself.

But this is untrue. As they pointed out themself, Eren first heard these words in his training days from Reiner where it did mean what he thinks it means. Furthermore, there is no panel showing Eren having any special reaction to Hange’s words. He is shown with the other key Serumbowl players before Hange says them, but not afterwards, where the focus is solely on Mikasa.

I believe Isayama has Hange say Eren’s tagline because it is a key phrase in the themes of the story, and not because it has any special effect on Eren.

I Didn’t Have Any Other Choice

Lines such as “I didn’t have any other choice” and “Is there another way” are similarly argued to be indicative of Eren’s enslavement to a single course of action.

But this is just the conflict between long and short term gratification – enduring hardship to obtain your goal is an example of a strong will, not an enslaved one. Even if he is enslaved to circumstance, this is the case for everybody else as well, and it is an enslavement he seeks to permanently free himself from by crushing his enemies for good. After that, he and Eldia can do whatever they will.

Born This Way

The lines “I’ve always been that way, ever since I was born”, and “It’s probably been like this since the day we were born” are argued to be a form of enslavement to one’s sense of self. I cover this in my attached meta, where I argue that it is rather an affirmation of his own Will and right to exist.

One specific point I’d like to address is the claim that Eren saying those words after Reiner tries to take personal responsibility for his actions is evidence that Eren is running away from his guilt, and is therefore not at peace with his actions, and is therefore not free. But rather than in denial or frustrated, Eren appears to be in a state of sad serenity.

Eren does not say these words in immediate response to Reiner, but only after he hears Willy say “Because I was born into this world”. I think that here Eren is simply recognising that Reiner was simply following the unique nature of his Will - doing it because he wanted to, not because he had to, which is indeed what Eren is doing - and acknowledging that it is something he cannot criticise him for, but also something that he cannot spare him for. That is the command of Eren’s unique Will.

As for Eren not being at peace with his actions meaning he is not free, refer to the short/long term gratification point I made earlier.

Jealousy of Mikasa and the Need to be a One Man Army

linkspooky claims that Eren is still trying too hard to be as strong as Mikasa and Levi, but once again the meta suffers due to a lack of consideration for the Uprising Arc. In that arc, Eren got over his jealousy of Mikasa and Levi and explicitly stated as much.

This, I think, is also sufficient evidence against a persisting desire on Eren’s part to be a One Man Army (as opposed to freedom, which he does have a desire for). His words here make it clear that he wishes to fight alongside his friends if possible. He has simply learnt that, to achieve his goals, ruthless manipulation and rugged individualism is necessary.

Need to be Special

This is also something Eren overcame in the Uprising Arc. He thinks of himself as a normal person, the son of a special father, that he never needed to happen.

He is not doing all of this to be special. He has simply become special by pursuing his birthright: not a birthright of exceptionalism, but of the right to exist, something I shall explain further in the ‘Meaning of Carla’s Words’ section in the next part.

As with the One Man Army, it is a matter of necessity rather than desire. I cover this more in my attached Eren meta, but Eren’s character has developed in a perfect loop. Though his actions remain the same, his understanding of them has increased dramatically: that is to say, he has come to understand himself.

Indeed, people are not naturally special. But can one really argue that special people do not exist at all? To say such a thing would be to argue that there is no difference between Daz and Erwin. People become special - Supermen, to reference Nietzsche - because they relentlessly pursue their Will to Power, their driving force to actualise their desires.

linkspooky also argues that the reason Eren’s change is the most dramatic after the time-skip is because in actuality he hasn’t changed. My argument is that it is simply the result of having the most explicit and tumultuous development in the story up to now, and crucially, the ability to see a future no-one else can.

Read the rest in Part 2 here!

#shingeki no kyojin #eren jaeger #eren yeager #snk meta #meta response #snk spoilers #aot spoilers #I haven't directly quoted since I was asked not to #but I hope it's clear I'm arguing in good faith #Also @ls please feel no obligation to read this behemoth #It's a ridiculously long response

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pengychan · 5 years ago

Text

[Good Omens] Winging It - Revelation 12:7-8

Summary: Shockingly, attempting to destroy an angel without consulting God first comes with consequences. There is more than one way to fall, and a thousand more ways to inconvenience an angel and a demon who just wanted to be left in peace. Characters: Gabriel, Crowley, Aziraphale, Beelzebub, Michael, Uriel, Sandalphon Rating: T

Prologue and all chapters are tagged as ‘winging it’ on my blog.

A/N: I apologize in advance.

***

The War - the very first war to ever be fought, a violent uprising that came as a surprise to most because ah, for all the rumors they had never thought anyone would have the audacity to rally arms against God - raged for eons and yet for a very short time.

Because at the, er, time, time had not been invented yet; or at least, its linear nature had yet to be established. God still had it in the backburner, and would only will it into reality later. Relatively speaking. Without linear time, the concept of later was rather fuzzy.

But in the chaos of the battle, everything was.

Gabriel had been in mid-air, spear in hand and trumpet at his belt, preoccupied with nothing but the message he had to deliver - reinforcement to the Gates, they’re almost there, reinforcement to the Gates - when something had ensnared him.

A net.

Wings trapped, unable to break the bonds, Gabriel had been unable to defend himself from the attack that had followed. He’d been thrown down on ground that was not ground, next to a yawning abyss, and had brought up his spear just on time, the few inches the net allowed him, parrying what would have been a crushing blow.

The concept of death was not a thing around there, either, but there was no need to wait a few eons until Cain and Abel’s disagreement to guess a crushing blow to one’s head was best avoided. There was a snarl, and the rebellious angel above him brought the axe up again, four wings blotting out the light coming from the stars as she towered above him and-- and--

CLANG.

The axe came down, but never reached Gabriel, or his spear. A sword came up to meet it, cracked and shattered, but surprise was enough to make the rebel step back, seemingly incredulous. “Ba’al? What are you doing?”

Ba’al?

It was them, hilt of the broken sword still in hand, standing between him and his attacker. But it made no sense - Ba’al was one of them, they had turned against God and made themselves an enemy of Heaven, they--

“This one is mine.” Ba’al voice was low, threatening. The other angel, who would be known as Dagon once her current name was lost to memory, stepped back. With all her stunned attention on Ba’al, she didn’t notice Gabriel frantically slicing through the net that kept him trapped.

“Your sword is broken.”

“He’s just a messenger. A glorified errand boy, and ensnared. I can deal with--”

“Gabriel!’

A crack of thunder, the rush of wings through the air, Michael’s voice. Gabriel rolled some distance from the chasm and looked up to see her diving down towards them, sword lifted, ready to help him - but before she could reach him the one who’d become Dagon flew up to meet her. Weapons clashed, and Gabriel threw the last of the net off himself before he stood, and lifted his spear.

Before him, Ba’al had sunk on one knee; now Gabriel could see they had overexerted themselves in the heath of the battle, while he soared over it to deliver vital messages. They were weakened and, with the sword broken almost to the hilt, virtually unarmed. One strike was all it would take. He lifted his spear, which had never felt so heavy in his hands before.

“The wrong sort,” he rasped. “I tried to warn you.”

His voice came out a sorrowful murmur; Ba’al looked up at him, defiance there again despite their predicament. “You still have time.”

“Time…?”

“To join our cause.”

This one is mine.

But you’re wrong. We belong to God. Why rebel? Why fight?

“... Abandon this folly. You the one who’s still on time.”

A scoff. “Even you can’t be so stupid. You know we cannot turn back.”

Spear still raised, Gabriel shook his head. He knew it was true, but he didn’t want to admit it any more than he wanted to put the spear in his hands to use. “If you surrender, and plead for mer--”

“Never!” Ba’al voice came out a furious buzzing, and they stood with what seemed a terrible effort. The sword in their hand gleamed, the broken blade still dangerous. “I will never beg!”

“Shut your stupid mouth and listen to--”

“Gabriel, what are you waiting for? Strike them down!”

“Ba’al! Strike now!”

Two voices rang out, Michael’s and that of the rebel angel, still engaged in a fight above them. Both Gabriel and Ba’al looked up to see Michael was gaining the upper hand, and fast; she was a fierce warrior, something Gabriel had been unaware of as none of them had ever had a reason to fight before the rebellion started. Any moment now she would make away with her opponent, then she’d turn her attention to Ba’al, and… and…

Strike them down!

I don’t want to.

For a single, terrifying moment, Gabriel found himself at a crossroads: obey an order that he knew came straight from God - defend the Gates, cast out the rebels - or… not doing that.

Join our cause.

He didn’t want to join their cause. He didn’t want to cast them out. He didn’t want to be struck down. He didn’t know what to do, and he never had to go through the agony of making a choice: Ba’al took the matter into their own hands. With a sudden cry they rushed at him, nimble and fast, swinging the broken sword up before Gabriel could even try to parry.

The broken blade glinted, flashed towards his face, and never hit him. What did strike him was the hilt, slamming against the side of his head. Gabriel tumbled down, stunned, and the spear was torn out of his hands. When he looked up, Ba’al was towering over him, the tip of his own spear only inches away from Gabriel’s face. An easy target. An easy victory Ba’al did not claim.

“... Fool. Next time you cross my path, I shall take you down,” they said, their voice flat, and it was the last thing Ba’al, the Virtue, would ever say to him. They soared up the next moment with a powerful beat of their wings, leaving him on the ground next to the chasm they could so easily have cast him into, to aid their fellow rebel in the fight against Michael.

It was a fight they would lose, but Gabriel was not there to witness it. He had a message to deliver and so he did, ignoring the ache that had not been caused by the blow, focusing on duty and duty only as he’d always done and would continue to do for eons to come. Soon enough the War was won, all memory of the Fallen faded and so, too, did the ache.

They all welcomed it: forgetting fixed everything, took away the loss, vanquished regret.

You can’t miss someone you don’t remember.

***

“... He seems to be doing well.”

“Yes.”

“He does look good.”

“I don’t think the facial hair does much for him.”

“He got rid of it, see? This photo is dated the following week. It’s called shaving, I believe.”

“Ah, I see.” There were a few moments of silence, all three of them staring down at the photos they had just been handed by a low-ranking angel. As it turned out, giving the task of checking on Gabriel to someone he was unlikely to recognize and who knew how to blend in with humans had been a good idea; Gabriel hadn’t realized he was being watched at all.

The photos showed him at different times: leaving work, sitting in a café with a couple of mortals, jogging in a park - which Sandalphon believed was something he used to enjoy before, too, but he was no longer entirely certain - and he did seem… fine.

“Hard to imagine him being all right with life as a human, huh?” he muttered in the end, but the truth of the matter was that it wasn’t. It wasn’t hard at all, because… because…

“I am not sure I remember enough about him to know what we ought to have expected,” Uriel said, her voice quiet, speaking for all of them. “We remember things about him because we have been writing them down. We don’t remember him. We no longer know him.”

It was true, of course, and there was probably little point in dancing around it. Lies didn’t go very far in Heaven, unless very well crafted. But ah, Sandalphon found he’d have preferred a lie.

“... The alternative is forgetting even that,” Michael said, putting the photos away. “I am not prepared to.”

“Even if God wills it?”

Uriel’s question was far more loaded than her calm tone suggested. It made Sandalphon recoil, and he found himself swallowing. His eyes shifted to Michael, who looked back at them with calm, steely resolve. “Even if God wills it,” she replied.

Coming from an arcangel, such words were dangerous. A moment of silence followed; there was no crack of thunder, no appearance from the Voice of God telling them to pack up and leave Heaven for good. As Sandalphon breathed out a sigh of relief, Uriel nodded.

“... May I have one of the photos?” she asked.

They each took one; Sandalphon got the one where he had that funny thing humans get on their faces, and put it in his pocket before speaking again. “Do you think he will ever call for us?”

“I don’t know. We should hope he never has to.”

“Unless he forgets about us, too.”

“He didn’t seem to have forgotten us at all last time,” Michael said, her voice bitter. The memories at the forefront of his mind clearly hadn't been good ones. “He certainly has not forgotten Aziraphale yet, he spoke to him recently. He’d have forgotten him too if--”

“Why isn’t Aziraphale forgetting him at all?” Sandalphon asked, causing both Uriel and Michael to look back at him. He shrugged. “I know some things don’t apply to him - like he didn’t burn with Hellfire - but I was thinking… after the War, he forgot about the Fallen like all of us.”

There were a few moments of silence. “... Something in him clearly changed since,” Michael finally said. She didn’t speculate aloud as to what it may be, and she didn’t need to. They knew.

What had changed, without a shadow of a doubt, was that Aziraphale had hardly ever returned to Heaven in over six thousand years.

***

No matching results.

“Ah, goddammit.” Daniel Brown closed his laptop with a sigh of frustration - almost slammed it shut, but it was an old thing he’d bought second-hand and he couldn’t afford to break it - and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples.

Still nothing, he thought. Christ, there was nothing anywhere even confirming that his sister had existed at any point. Memories of her were few and in-between; he had nothing of hers, not even a picture, a letter, a scrap of a document. Maybe he could find a way to get to her birth certificate, which would get him precisely nowhere in his search for her but would at least confirm that he was not crazy, that he wasn’t chasing after a woman who’d never even existed.

It made no sense: there had to be something somewhere, people don’t just vanish like that. His wife had been dead for years, but he could still find traces of her. There was obituary, her name still on the electoral roll at the address they lived in before she died and he lost the house.

There was the mention of her in that little article about her second prize at the local flower show - they had used a pretty unflattering picture, Liv had been more annoyed than she’d let by - and that long-deserted Facebook account she had made a couple of years before her death and barely used for anything, other than sharing pictures of cats and deep quotes about life by famous people who had all died before turning thirty. At least she’d made it to forty-seven.

It wasn’t much, of course, but still traces of a life that he could find with an Internet connection. When it came to Alison no matter how much he scoured records, including the kind you have to pay to access - he could find nothing, and was running out of options. He already had, really, just kept trying the same shit over and over in hopes it would somehow wield a result next time.

But it won’t. I had my chance when she wrote and I blew it.

With a long sigh, Daniel stood - and then he faltered, leaning on the table a few moments when his vision swam and he felt faint. Ah, he’d forgotten to have dinner again. Maybe he should eat something now but he was tired, his head ached, and had an early morning ahead of him.

He’d go to sleep, he decided, and have a good breakfast the next morning. Maybe he’d ask Gabriel to schedule his shifts a bit later in the morning for the next week, a little favor to a friend, and go on to have a normal day, trying not to think of his sister. Maybe he’d go out for a drink.

Then, at night, he’d be online to try again. Dead or alive, she had to be somewhere.

She had to.

***

“It’s impossible. You know it’s impossible.”

“My Lord, we have scoured all the archives--”

“Then look better! I swear to Satan, are all the underlings on archive duty so incompetent--”

“I have personally scoured the entirety of the archives when they failed to find a thing, my Lord.”

Ah. Beelzebub’s features twisted in a displeased scowl; a couple of blisters on their face burst, a few flies trying to land on them before they shooed them away with a wave of their hand, the blisters immediately re-forming. As much as they wanted to continue with the tirade, they knew there would be no point to it.

Dagon wasn’t known as the Lord of the Files for nothing; if she said that there was no folder for any Alison Brown born in Plymouth between 1948 and 1950… then that meant there was no folder for any Alison Brown born in Plymouth in 1948, 1949, or 1950. End of discussion.

Even if it made no sense.

“How can it be? There must be a folder, even if she’s not in Hell,” Beelzebub muttered, their fury turning to confusion. They had one of those for every single mortal who was ever born on Earth. Every one, without fail, without exception. Bureaucracy in Hell was… hellish, and unorganised to be hard to navigate, but just as relentless as the one Heaven prided itself with. “Perhaps the idiot is mistaken over the birth years--”

“I have checked the previous few years, and a couple after that. I found nothing. Maybe he was mistaken by several years, or about the name. Or the place of birth.”

“Seems unlikely. He is an idiot, but not the sort of idiot who gets this kind of thing wrong.”

Dagon didn’t argue. She was wonderfully incurious over the reasons behind Beelzebub’s orders, and it suited them just fine. They were not looking to explain that they were making deals with a soul they were supposed to just collect, or why.

“Either way, there is nothing on the mortal he described,” Dagon said. “The only explanation is that this person never existed, or else she’d be in our files.”

That, Beelzebub knew, was true. It had to be true. “... Maybe he is, indeed, that kind of idiot,” they muttered. It had to be a mistake. They could see no reason why Gabriel would make them waste time by looking for the files of a person who did not exist.

“Do you wish me to order the underlings to keep looking?”

“As there is no folder to find, it would be useless, tedious labor wielding no result nor reward,” Beelzebub said. “Excellent. Do that and tell them the inevitable failure shall be punished.”

“I will, my Lord,” Dagon promised, her mood lifted at the prospect as the Lord of the Flies disappeared in sulphur and fire, leaving behind a few burnt flies and a scorch marks on the side of the throne.

***

Scorching hot water, Gabriel decided, was one of the most oddly satisfying things to endure once your body - mortal body, that is - gets used to it. So much so, in fact, that the vast majority of his time in the shower was spent simply standing beneath the stream of hot water, eyes closed and head tilted back.

How lucky, he mused, that not all the necessary tasks that plagued human existence were unpleasant. This was something he could keep doing for a long time, and he found it was surprisingly helpful when he had to focus and think.

Not that his thoughts were doing much more than running in circles at the moment.

Next time you cross my path, I shall take you down,

Had what he’d remembered really, truly happened? It had all come flooding back to him while he was asleep, after trying and failing to recall things as far back as he could, so there was no telling whether it was truly a memory or just a dream, or a memory tainted by a dream. Just last week he’d dreamed something absurd about putting cake batter in the oven and pulling out a live goose with a blonde wig, which had then proceeded to wreak havoc in the room.

It could very well be something like that, and if it was… well, Beelzebub wanted memories, and real ones at that. So before he told them anything about-- this one is mine -- the dream he had, he needed to be certain it was, indeed, a memory. And besides, even if it were, that was not what Beelzebub had demanded of him. They already knew that Gabriel had passed on the chance to strike them down during the War.

What they expected of Gabriel was to tell them why.

I don’t know, Gabriel thought, and it was… only partially true. The reason why they had made no move that day, why they’d tried to get the other back on their respective side, was well within his reach. All he had to do was will himself to look at it, but it scared him in a way he couldn’t put into words. Once he did, once he knew, there would be no turning back. Chances were that Beelzebub may not appreciate whatever truth he may find there, either, and shoot the messenger because of course they would.

Maybe he should-- ah, the water was beginning to run cold. Snapped from his musings, Gabriel shivered and reached to turn off the tap. All right, then: time to get out, dry off, and try to figure out what kind of nourishment he could get with as little work as possible before it was time for him to leave. He could think over his dilemma later, he decided, and pulled aside the curtain.

To be greeted by the sudden appearance in the bathroom of a ball of fire.

“Gah!” Gabriel cried out, trying to instinctively step back, and slipped, landing painfully on his backside and hitting the back of his head against the wall in the process. He made a face, reaching up to rub his head, just as the flames dissipated and Beelzebub appeared, sitting on the toilet seat as they would on their throne.

They didn’t seem very impressed to see him soaked through in a heap on the floor.

“Why are you wet?”

“I was showering, humans need to keep clean--”

“Why are you on the floor?”

“You startled me!”

“Ah, so I did. Well, that was the intention.”

“Why!”

“I am the Prince of Hell,” Beelzebub pointed out, and Gabriel groaned.

“Fair,” he muttered, pulling himself up from the slippery floor of the shower. It was a good reminder, if anything. Beelzebub, not Ba’al. The Prince of Hell, not the Virtue he’d known a long, long time ago and was just beginning to remember. “Can you hand me the towel, I left it hangi--”

Beelzebub raised a hand, and the towel came off the hook, pooling on the floor. That was… not handing it to him, but Gabriel supposed he deserved it for thinking he could ask the Prince of Hell for a simple favor. “Many thanks,” he grumbled, walking out to pick it up. He wiped his face first, quickly towelled himself dry, and wrapped it around his waist because may as well - humans did tend to cover up below the waist and he saw no reason to differ. “Why are you he--”

“They did do a number on you.”

Beelzebub’s voice was quiet, and something about it caused to Gabriel to go very still. He turned slowly to look back at them over his shoulder; their expression was blank, their eyes fixed on Gabriel’s upper back, where his wings had been. Where the scars were left.

Don’t look, he wanted to say, but words stayed stuck in his throat. He glanced over at the mirror, but it was too misted to see a thing on it. Better that way, he supposed. He didn’t need to see them. “... Michael is not known for leaving jobs half done,” Gabriel finally said, and turned to face the Lord of the Flies, hiding his back from their gaze. “Why are you here?”

Beelzebub shrugged. “We had a deal, did we not?”

Ah, yes. That. Gabriel drew in a deep breath, fully aware of the fact he was not dealing with a patient being who saw the value of delayed gratification.

“I… haven’t got around to sit down and try to dig up memories yet, but I can--”

“The mortal you asked about never existed.”

Gabriel trailed off, blinking. He’d expected some anger, a demand to hold up to his end of the bargain, not… that. “I beg your pardon?”

“I’ll spare you a jab over who you’re begging for pardon. This Alison Brown does not exist.”

That… couldn’t be. “That’s the name he gave me. I am sure. Alison.”

“Wrong place?”

“He said they were both born in Plymouth--”

“Wrong dates, then.”

“But she was twenty-five when he was eleven, and he was born in 1963, so that means that certainly within the time frame I estimated--”

“Spare me the maths. There is no one that matches.”

“Perhaps, if she changed her name-- maybe a new surname--”

“It would be on our records along with the old one,” Beelzebub pointed out, sounding in equal measure bored and annoyed. “Every mortal who is ever born has a folder, both in Hell and Heaven, keeping track of their sins and good deeds respectively. Every one of them, without exception. You of all people ought to know that, since you were such a pain in the ass about it when you insisted the forms should match.”

Gabriel frowned. “Well, it made perfect sense that they should match, if we were to ever compare them in case a soul appealed--” he trailed off when Beelzebub reached to knock the can of shaving gel off the counter, entirely expressionless as they did. It bounced on the tiles with a clattering noise, rolling at Gabriel’s feet. He held back a sigh. “Why did you feel the need to do that?”

“You’re changing the subject. Don’t.”

“Or you’re going to knock down my toothbrush?”

“I may just go straight for your teeth, so you no longer need it,” Beelzebub buzzed, and Gabriel promptly shut his mouth. Truth be told, he was beginning to doubt Beelzebub would act on… most of their threats to him, but either way there had to be a line somewhere that he didn’t want to be stepping over. At the very least he should pick his battles; this one was not worth his teeth.

Unaware of his thoughts, Beelzebub seemed very pleased by Gabriel’s silence.

“That’s a smart human. If all you told me is true, can you explain how come there is no trace of this person’s existence anywhere in Hell’s archives?”

“Perhaps you misplaced the folder?”

“I misplace nothing.”

“I mean-- someone else? Whoever is in charge of that department?” Gabriel muttered. There had to be something, unless Daniel had entirely made up that story about his sister… but why would he? What reason would he have to make up a story like that to tell him over a drink? He had nothing to gain from that. And regret had been so obvious on his face and in his voice, Gabriel couldn’t imagine he had simply pretended for no reason whatsoever.

“Impossible,” Beelzebub was saying. “That is Dagon’s department. Lord of the Files. She is more likely to distribute candy to orphans across Earth than she is to misplace a folder.”

Gabriel, who was still not entirely over watching the Antichrist choose not to be the Antichrist as well as an angel standing in Hellfire without a single hair being scorched, almost pointed out that impossible should probably be erased from all vocabularies in existence. But as he was not looking forward to an argument over Hell’s competence or lack thereof - Beelzebub was touchy on the subject, he’d found out over the millennia - he decided not to.

Picking his battles and all that.

“Perhaps an underling misplaced it,” he said, picking a less unlikely suggestion. Beelzebub paused, clearly thinking that was… slightly less beyond the realm of possibilities.

“If that is the case, they will be punished.”

“It’s not necessary--”

“Harshly.”

“There really is no need--”

“Don’t presume you can tell me how I should run Hell.”

“... Right. Yes. Of course. Do you think you can-- go make sure they check again?”

“They already are. Of course, there is another way to be absolutely certain,” Beelzebub muttered, tilting their head on one side. “Someone ought to check upstairs. If they have no folder either, then I am right, you are wong, and this person never existed.”

Ah, of course. That was an option, he supposed, except for the detail he had no intention whatsoever to turn to turn to Heaven for help. Perhaps Aziraphale would, but-- ah, it still left a bad taste in his mouth, turning to him for more help after… after everything.

“I’m sure it won’t be needed. There must be a mistake, I’m certain the search will turn up--”

“What is it, are you afraid to be proven wrong?”

“No,” Gabriel snapped, annoyance coming back in full force. “I am not that petty. I simply don’t think Heaven need be involved.”

Beelzebub paused a moment, blinking. “Ah, right,” they muttered. “You are still afraid of them.”

Was he? Gabriel was not sure. He dreaded the idea of finding himself in their presence, but it was something more visceral than simple fear of harm; he knew they would not. They had no reason to harm him, not anymore; they had never wanted to.

But they had. His brethren had struck him down, while the being before him… a long time ago...

No, no, no. He couldn’t go there. “I am not afraid,” he snapped, gaining himself a scoff.

“You know where lies land you, don’t you?”

“I cut ties with them, all right? It’s not like I can simply turn around and go ‘Michael, I need you to do me a favor, can you come help me out?’ and she will simply drop everything to--”

Should you ever need us, all you need to do is call out our names, and we’ll be there.

Wait.

Gabriel’s brain caught up just a moment too late - which was an improvement on his usual track record of ‘several moments too late’, but still not enough, and trailing off did not help. There was a bright bolt of lighting out of seemingly nowhere, surprisingly non-deafening in the enclosed space of the bathroom, and the next moment Michael stood before him, a clipboard still in her hands from… whatever duty he had accidentally called her from.

Gabriel really, really should have stayed in bed that morning.

***

A few doors down, Daniel Brown still lay in his own bed. He’d forgotten to set the alarm the previous evening, which would have made him late for work, but that morning it mattered not.

He wasn’t there anymore, anyway.

***

"Then war broke out in heaven. Michael and his angels fought against the dragon, and the dragon and his angels fought back. But he was not strong enough, and they lost their place in heaven." -- Revelation 12:7-8

***

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#good omens #ineffable bureaucracy #ineffable husbands #archangel gabriel #beelzebub #winging it

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honekitteh · 5 years ago

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Fic: Countdown - Chapter 6

Fandom: SWTOR Pairing: Theron Shan/f!Jedi Knight Rating: M Genre: Angst, H/C, Romance, Canon-Typical Violence, Humor, Canon-typical levels of poor decision-making Synopsis: A distress call leads the Jedi Battlemaster to Ziost, but time is running out. Follows the storyline of The Rise of the Emperor and inserts missing scenes. Warnings: See Chapter 1

“This is a door?”

Kira nodded to me as I walked towards the circle window like fixture on the left side of the entrance hall of the People’s Tower. I tried to keep my focus on the entryway to the next level of the building as opposed to the corpses now laying at our feet. The amount of bodies that were being thrown towards me to try to prevent us from our path, with little more purpose than for just simple mayhem and death, was overwhelming. There were very few meditation techniques that could fully block out the scent of the dead at this point, but I needed to press on. The fate of this world felt like it was slipping out of my grasp and it felt like it was up to me.

Again.

I couldn’t find the way to open the door easily, looking around for the controls. I reached out with my senses. “Locked.”

“Typical Imperials,” Kira huffed, “So rude to guests.”

I frowned as tried a few things with the Force. “I’m not sure I can bust it myself.”

My friend took a step up and closed her eyes. Then she shook her head. “I doubt even the two of us could do it alone, even if one of us was on the other side. Unless Lana is miraculously right there, we’re on our own. We need something else.”

I frowned. Not really willing to give up quite yet, I tested the door again with my senses.

“Jyana, I think we need something with a bit more explosive power.”

I sighed heavily. “Fine. What do you have in mind?”

Kira scanned the entrance hall. There was a large holographic map of Ziost on display on the middle console. She took a scan beyond it. “There’s something over there, but I think we’ll have to fight our way there.”

“Sounds about normal,” I sighed.

We worked our way over there quickly, myself leaping into battle with a Sith Lord. I only felt slightly bad about engaging him in battle, cause I was fairly sure he’d want to thwart whatever we were planning on his own volition. I couldn’t tell how long he’d been under Vitiate’s puppetry, but it didn’t matter now. A poor imperial medic was unfortunately in the crossfire, which was something that I did feel terrible about. But our situation did not give us a lot of time to reflect or regret. We had to keep moving.

When the enemies had fallen, as they refused to stop until they were ended, I noticed the thing Kira thought she had seen. I picked up the rocket launcher and looked at it with great suspicion.

“That looks promising,” Kira said.

“This might be overkill,” I stated looking at it and checking to make certain it was loaded.

“Pft,” Kira waved that off, “No such thing as overkill.”

“Let’s move.” I put the rocket launcher over my shoulder, loosely letting the strap on it secure it there. I looked back towards the door and frowned. “Did you invite more friends to the party?” I asked motioning towards the four imperial commandos that were now between us and the door.

“I need to hire a new party planner.”

I was getting so tired of fighting, but I tossed my lightsabers to draw the commandos’ attention. I wasn’t sure I was quite comfortable opening with my typical leap into the fray. Adding the rocket launcher to my back would wreck the physics of the leap or at least set it off that I wasn’t sure I had the right read on it. I already had a habit of overexerting and I really could not afford to do it at this stage. I was already exhausted. I knew the final battle was soon, but I could not completely estimate how much longer I had to go. I couldn’t go overboard now, not at this stage.

Kira pushed the last of the four back as he fell. She frowned looking down at them. A glance up at me showed me she was feeling what I was. Overwhelming sorrow. Both of us knew what it was like to be out of our own control. Both of us had broken free, but it did not pass without some level of scars. Such was our life.

We got to the door and I unholstered the rocket launcher. This wasn’t my first rodeo. I checked all the mechanisms, made certain the ammo was set just right.

“Maybe we should knock first?” Kira asked.

“This is me knocking,” I said and fired.

The explosion shock the building and threw both of us back. Startled at the reaction I dropped the rocket launcher and used the Force to cushion our fall.

“That’s what I’m talking about!”

I stared at Kira as I picked myself up off the floor.

“I gotta get me one of those!” she said as she was pointing at the rocket launcher.

“Later. We don’t have any way to reload it and we’ve got to keep moving.”

“No fun.”

I sighed and rolled my eyes and jumped through the door.

It felt like Vitiate had an endless supply of bodies to pile up between us and our destination. It also took a great deal of concentration to focus on jumping up along the elevator shaft to the next level of the building. The screams of the dying, the terror, the fear, all the feelings of deep buried rage kept trying to overwhelm my senses.

“Watch out!” Kira shouted as turrets opened fire on us after we gained our footing on the floor.

A flick of the lightsabers sadly was not all it took, but we did make fairly quick work of them.

My wrist computer blinked at me, telling me that I had an incoming call. I flicked it on as we were besieged by another group of soldiers.

Lana’s voice came through the call saying, “Before we go ahead with this... you and I should talk—in person. I’ll see you shortly.”

I frowned then looked down at the coordinates now showing on the small data viewer after the comm cut off.

“This way.”

I looked at the forcefield over the door to the room that Lana had indicated and let out a heavy sigh. Kira motioned there were electrical panels on the outside of each door. Nodding we both threw a wave of the Force at the panels, causing them to explode. This knocked the forcefield down.

There were many civilian employees within the room. I tried to raise my hands in a defensive pose. “I don’t want to hurt any of you...” I said before they started to lunge at Kira and I, shooting and even some just trying to go at us hand to hand. I sighed, looking at each of their eyes as they fell, fighting to their last with no control of their own bodies. The silver eyes, showing their actions belonged to him.

In the corner of my eye, a green and black cloak flicked by, moving towards the console in the back of the room. Kira and I sheathed our sabers and moved to join Lana.

“You’ve made it,” the Sith Lord stated without looking up as she pushed on the controls, “Good. Time is short—so is reliable assistance.” She fiddled with the holo communication controls on the console and continued talking without really looking back at me. “I have Agent Kovach assembling a suppression team out of whatever droids he can find, so I approached another agent to assist us.”

Theron Shan appeared on the holo and he looked around between us and did what could only be described as striking a pose. He rested his hand on his hip with ease and comfort that belied the exhaustion that was evident in his eyes, even from within a holo communication. I raised my eyebrows and gave a sigh. I partially wondered if he was trying to play it cool with Lana. Then again, this is Theron. There were so many layers behind the surface. I am not entirely sure how many I’d seen behind, but there was a selfish part of me that would like to think that I was one of the few that had.

Of course, now was not the time to think about those kinds of things. Lana addressed him quickly, “Are you in position?”

“Yeah, but this setup isn’t anything like what you described.”

“So what you’re saying is you can’t figure it out.”

“Don’t get all…” he sighed and put his hands in front of him, “I’ll figure it out.”

“We’re about to begin, so that would be nice.”

“He has Teeseven with him, he’ll be fine,” I quickly cut in.

Theron gave me a grateful nod and cut out the communication.

As soon as his image flickered off, I asked, “What exactly are we about to begin, Lana?”

“You’re going to make Vitiate angry. So angry that he’ll place all his attention on killing you.” She punched in some controls on the console and then turned to look at me. If I didn’t know better, she had a very Jedi way of masking her emotions, but that could be partially from how she had to keep her mind focused on defense, lest the incorporeal former Emperor decide to take her body for a ride. She continued on, “When the time comes, you’ll lead him to an electrostatic weapon stored there, in the heart of New Adasta. It’s meant to be a last resort against major civil uprisings, but Theron’s modifying it to be non-lethal. With the reduced charge, its radius of impact will diminish.”

I raised an eyebrow and shared a glance with Kira before looking back to Lana. “You have a weapon designed with the sole purpose of killing your own people?”

Lana waved it off as if it was a non-issue. “It’s not as if we install one in every metropolis. We nearly lost New Adasta to unrest once before.”

“Well in that case...”

I could see her eye slightly twitch, but she ignored my snide remark. “Shall we get started?” she asked and pointed towards the holo comm device.

Suppose it was time for my performance art masterpiece of a monologue. I really hate monologuing. But certain people seemed to love it. Maybe it will do the trick.

I took a deep breath and nodded to Lana and she opened the comm. “Vitate! I am the Battlemaster of the Jedi Order. I’ve struck you down once already. Today, I’m finishing the job. Today, you will face justice.”

Lana cut off the communication and glanced over at me, her expression unreadable except for very obvious exhaustion.

“I think that did it?” I questioned, pondering over if I should have monologued longer, or been harsher, and I almost got caught in my train of thought until Lana cut me off.

“I have to go now. There’s much to be done.” She sighed heavily, “Too much. I shouldn’t have come here, truth be told.”

I reached out and took hold of her shoulder. A year or so ago, she might have flinched at the contact, but not today. “Be strong, Lana. Stay focused. You’ll be fine.”

She offered me a tired smile. “Thank you. We’ll see if you’re right.”

I looked behind me after I pressed the button to call the elevator to the top floor. Master Onok and Master Landai were both unconscious, but free. I could still hear their voices demanding for me to kill them, even though they weren’t really their own voices. I electrocuted them. They would make it. Doc and Lord Scourge were on their way to retrieve them and get them off world as soon as they could. I needed to focus though.

As I stepped in the elevator and punched the controls to take us up, I wondered if Lana’s plan would work. Kira gave me a poke. I gave her a tired smile. She was right. There was a time and place to dwell on what has happened since I stepped foot on this planet, and now was not one of them.

We walked onto the platform to find Theron and T7 working on opposite sides of the entryway.

“That’s it, Teeseven,” he called out to the droid then looked up from his work to see us. He gave a quick nod and what I thought was a slight smirk to me and continued, “Got it set up for as big a non-lethal burst as we can manage.” He looked over to T7 as the droid unplugged himself from the wall socket. “Thanks buddy,” he said to the droid then turned back to Kira and I. “Should be enough to zap anyone in range into a nice, long, involuntary nap.”

I looked up at the large device that was on the ceiling over the open air platform. Frowning I muttered lowly, “Should be?”

Theron shrugged. “Hard to come up with a one-size fits all solution. Lot of guesswork involved. Wish there was a way Teeseven and I could have done a test run before...”

As his vocalized thought trailed off, I looked back towards the entry point I had just come through. I didn’t sense anything quite yet, but I could feel it wouldn’t be too long.

“They’ve got to be closing in,” Kira stated aloud, echoing my own thoughts.

“Then come on,” he said, waving me over to where he had a device waiting for us, “We need to be shielded.” I followed him, still studying my surroundings. He straightened up after ensuring the shield was properly set and looked to me. “Okay. We should wait until they’re good and close.”

I closed my eyes briefly, allowing my senses to reach out to get a good feel for how much time we had. It wasn’t much. I moved slightly closer to Theron and said softly, “I wasn’t sure when I’d run into you again. Not the greatest circumstances, but still.” I very nearly reached to him but halted myself with a small glance behind me. It wasn’t Kira though that I sensed when I could feel we weren’t alone.

He offered a weak but knowing smile. “Maybe next time the lives of an entire world won’t be in danger – but, yeah, feeling’s mutual.”

I felt my heart flip flop a bit at his smile and met his with my own. Soon though, I could feel them. His amber eyes shifted from mine to behind me. Closing my eyes for a brief moment, I took a deep breath, then reopened them to follow his gaze. Kira had already drawn her dual-saber, its green light reflecting against the metallic floor.

Theron pulled out his data pad and started tapping. “Okay, here comes the puppet brigade. Fingers crossed…”

It was a fairly sizable group, Imperials, Republic troops, and even some Jedi. I silently cursed the Chancellor and added it to the growing list of matters I will add to a report, should I bother to file one. At this particular moment, the choice words I had planning were significantly less Jedi than they had been the beginning of this entire fiasco. The horde moved closer and Theron triggered the device.

That Theron even had to modify it to be non-lethal was not lost on me. As I saw the soldiers all be stunned and fall to the ground, I could not help but wonder what the result would have been had that modification not been made. The Empire, putting a weapon in one of its capital cities with the capability to kill a vast amount of their own citizens? If they had one of these in New Adasta, they could have it on Kass City, or in a number of other cities. But why? Because of riots? Gee, I wonder why anyone would riot against a ruling body that had no regard for their lives.

My eyes glanced over to a Republic soldier that had collapsed. Were we even better? The Republic should be better than this. Theron followed my eyes and let the shield dome collapse. He approached the soldier and knelt. “This one was closet, took the biggest hit.” He reached for his neck, checking his pulse as I walked up beside him. I looked out towards the door and across the landscape of unconscious bodies. “Still alive,” Theron confirmed, relief in his voice, “We did it! Let’s just hope we got all of them.”

“Let’s hope,” I murmured, still scanning the surroundings. Something still felt off. This moment was far from over, I could feel it.

“We should call Lana now, see if she has a plan for what’s next.”

The bodies began to float in the air. “I have a better idea,” a booming male imperial voice spoke through the woman sauntering onto the platform. With a small flick of a hand motion, the bodies crashed back away from her, clearing a path. Her eyes yellow and wild, she smirked as she drew her lightsaber.

“Master Surro.” Theron’s entire stance sunk and he moved to stand between me and the unconscious puppet army and the approaching Jedi Master. “No...” I lightly reached an arm to his shoulder, trying to pull him back and shift him behind me, but he stood his ground.

“Watching you believe you had a chance; it’s amused me.” Master Surro raised her hand sluggishly as if it were pulled by string, the Force lifting a dazed Imperial lieutenant into a sitting position. “Now this whole charade is pathetic.”

I shifted my own position, trying to assess the situation and moved in front of Theron. Not soon enough, as Master Surro summarily executed the dazed man she’d just set up. The range of emotions in the man beside me went from shock, to horror, to anger. It took a great deal of my own willpower and Force meditation to not absorb Theron’s pain and have it fuel me and complement the dread that I felt; the very dread I’ve been feeling rising since the moment I’d received his distress holo.

Master Surro’s lips turned in a cruel sneer. “Now, how do you wish to die? In combat or on your knees?”

Lana raced from within the building, lightsaber drawn and poised to attack.

“Go away, little Sith.” Master Surro easily shoved the approaching Sith Lord with a shove. Theron moved in front of me again and drew his weapon but was immediately lifted in the air. He gave me a wincing glance before he was unceremoniously thrown against the wall and crashed the ground. I looked between Lana and Theron and took the last reserves of my energy to take a deep breath.

Glancing back to Master Surro, I furrowed my brow and drew both my shoto. The Emperor controlled puppet smirked. “This has nothing to do with your friends. This is you and I.”

Igniting my sabers, I leaped into the air.

The original clash was brief, a flurry of blades. Kira flanked our opponent, trying to keep her busy. There was no way that she was going to let me fight alone, even if I sensed that was what Master Surro desired. We just had to stay vigiliant.

If I could keep my eyes from glancing over at Theron long enough to stay focused.

Of course Surro, no… not Surro, Vitiate… he figured out my distraction and pressed the attack on me, completely ignoring Kira who was trying to sneak attack from behind. I tried to block a downward strike with both my shoto but I lost track of my direction and Surro took the opportunity to kick me and Force push me at that moment. The push knocked me near complete off the edge and drop my shoto completely. I reached out quickly and barely grabbed hold of the edge.

I took this time to reflect on my life choices. Trying my hardest to keep as many people alive as possible, even the possessed jedi that Vitiate used to try to taunt me. Kill them, he had said, I won’t mind—and neither will your dear ally.

I sighed. I tried so hard to compartmentalize my feelings. It wasn’t working. I took a deep breath. Theron’s been through worse, he’ll be fine. They’ll all be fine.

I heard a squeak as I sensed Kira get knocked out, not far from where Lana was. Closing my eyes, I found my sabers and lept into the air.

I landed on the other side of Master Surro, flipping overhead her before she’d noticed I’d gotten there it seemed. She gave me a sneer. “Why won’t you die, little girl?”

“No matter how powerful you are, I’ll never fall to you.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Confident—to the end.”

My lightsabers returned to my hands, I ignited them and pressed the attack. I did not relent, I would not back down, and he had to know that.

It took some time until Master Surro finally collapsed at my feet. I took a deep breath and studied her, not wanting to take any chances. When she looked back up, her eyes were their natural color.

#swtor fanfiction #theron shan x jedi knight #theron shan #kira carsen #lana beniko #t7-01 #female jedi knight/hero of tython #oc: jyana kai #otp: come what may #fic: countdown #ziost #swtor: rise of the emperor #swtor #fanfic

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flaminggildedrose · 6 years ago

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@fallesto continued from {x}

🌹 Radovid wasn’t a man of mystery and those that knew not of his name would never forget it even as they were left broken and bleeding upon his or the soil of their homeland. His movements, plans, and heavy feet were worn into Redaina’s very foundations now. It would be hard to smear him from history so easily and even if the far future generations lost ink and parchment, memory and the story would live on.

That was what it was like to be king. You were in the hearts and souls of your people and no matter your actions they were to keep you alive. Despite the rivers of blood, he had gained everything a proper monarch should. Maria did not look down on such actions for what king did not build his legacy on corpses to gain and keep their castles.

Slowly the honey-haired maiden started a pace she could not move far for her state left her over-encumbered. Keeping hands pleasantly placed before her swollen form she thought over his request, or rather a means to show her truly how ‘little’ she knew.

He didn’t bluff he would take action and Maria had witnessed it Loc Muinne. Her memory of the blood and burning flesh still stung her nose and the unholy screaming, wailing and begging would never leave the knights memory. Nor would she let it knowing that most of the blood there was innocent. Many innocent.

“ I seek not to give such beings forgiveness, The Lodge will burn......you have my back on that .....I’ll never forgive them for what they’ve done......Never, ” the maiden stopped the long train of her dress even taking a heavy tone despite the crimson velvet shimmering with calming ease,” Oh no Your Majesty, do not see my ‘mercy’ to be for such figures that wish to play within the shadows then honor their enemies face to face. I understand our world has balance and must stay in balance but one can’t always hold all the pieces. Yes, a fair share of them can be held on your side of the board but....... it's foolish to think that the other pieces in play will lay down and take it.........no.....No I ask but nothing but your fitful and unbridled wrath to such figures.”

She eased her shoulders trying to calm herself of the anger and sadness welling up inside of her. They cost the North so much and thought it might have not stopped the young king’s advancements to have the North for himself ....such things as marriages would at least bond the countries for the time being if not for treaties and agreements. At least Temaria had tried to bond together peacefully, Maria had no kind words for Kaedwen. That spoke volumes for she tried to find good in almost everything before her.

Turning back Maria made her way back her golden curls still bouncing despite the now lack of movement in her figure. Did he think her truly a stupid woman? Why did she even really ask that to herself for she knew the answer? Still, she had a question to answer or at least a mean to be humored.

“The first solution was taking the life of the one that had offended you, I’m shocked that you would settle with but eyes and not let her bleed out like all the rest you let on the pikes or pyres. Focus on the lodge and I’m sure that the rest of the followers shall lose spirit,” this would be a pointless push but she would continue even at the disadvantage he gave her,” You need only punish the hands reaching to pull you down. If you will not offer mercy then offer a compromise for but a while, you hold more power then any so why not flex it and show just who you hold? Blind brutality loses it stings after a while soon you shall only have more uprises more magic users that wish to lash back. Though you have handled many well.....you hold a key. There are many mages that have been wronged, backstabbed and used who would stop at nothing to get a taste of what you’re accomplishing.......”

It was a risky bet being as that those that shared a taste of such lusts would also act in the same manner causing more issues that would cause the king to fall deeper into paranoia.

“ I speak in such manners as in means of if you have one deserter in your army do you sentence the whole battalion to death for one at fault? You lose many men when you could harness the few you have left to prevent what once had befallen them thus weeding out the problem. We put an end to desertion with our own hands and so what would be better than pitting mage against mage?”

The honey haired maiden hated being the one to say it but she was that type of puppet. She only did magic thanks to the church and therefore hunted her kind, it had been child's play to her.

“I could look into a way to track, tag and even organize such bands .....a test group and those that fail....well it’s not like you’re short of kindling......” Sickness welled up in her but this was how it was. She was just as much of a monster as he was. She had to be.🌹

#fallestro #//hope you don't mind I moved this ?#long post

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cageddovepoetry · 6 years ago

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Cauldron Bound

A Nessian fanfic taking place after the events of ACOFAS. Chapter 3.

Chapter One/ Chapter Two/ Chapter Four

Chapter Three: The Oncoming Storm

Cassian and Nesta cleared the trees. Devlon stood at the head of the camp watching their approach. Cassian straightened his spine, the posture of a commander. He felt Nesta beside him a quiet calm, a storm of steal and furry. A witch Devlon had called her the last she had been within the Illyrian camp. Now she seemed to exceed the power of witches, not cauldron blessed, but a warrior who had taken from the cauldron and survived. A queen who had claimed her birthright.

Devlon nodded the only respect he had ever shown to the commander of the Illyrians.

“Devlon” Cassian said his voice void of emotion.

“Shall we discuss matters?” Devlon asked. Nesta noted the lack of title in the question.

Cassian motioned towards the tent behind Devlon. Nodding his head in its’ direction. They had talked war, fought strategy and planned death within its’ canvas walls.

Once within the tent Devlon looked in Cassian’s direction, “we are discussing matters in front of the witch?”

Cassian said nothing. Nesta could hold her own. She did not need his commentary.

“I believe what you meant to say was, we are discussing matters in front of the witch, commander.” Nesta said her voice a quiet rage. She looked Devlon up and down a quick assessment. “You may find a witch’s company welcoming when staring down the enemy.”

Devlon’s eyes moved to Nesta’s. The glare between them a power struggle. Whatever Devlon had seen within her gaze was enough that he responded directly to her. “The enemy is our brother witch.” His words dripping with disdain.

Nesta eyed the map on the war table. Her mind calculating as her eyes gazed over the figures. “And yet they mean to attack your camp, your people. Family does not equate to unity.”

Devlon nodded considering her words. Nesta felt Cassian’s approval of her statement though she did not need it. Devlon refocused his gaze to Cassian as he responded, “the descent has grown. A coup is no longer a whisper, but a scream within the mountains. Commander.” Devlon added nearly spitting out the word.

Cassian examined the figures then. He had known as much from Azriel’s reports. The situation had become critical. The Illyrian Steppes had always known infighting, brother against brother, but the last few months had escalated the conflict between camps and even within Devlon’s own.

“Have the defenses been prepared?” Cassian responded his eyes not leaving the figurines that marked the opposition.

“According to your plans.” Devlon responded.

“What is the morale within camp?” Cassian replied, already sure of the response.

“The seed of descent grows.” Devlon’s eyes trailed to Nesta as she moved towards the war table.

Cassian did not let his eyes drift to her as she placed her hands upon the table. “What has been done about this talk of betrayal?”

“As you had commanded the supplies you purchased have been disbursed among those left needing by your war.”

“And those who are still in need?” Cassian asked.

“Illyrians’ do not need or want they provide on their own.” Devlon responded his impatience evident .

Nesta pounded a fist upon the table, the fire flaring in her eyes. “And so you would leave them to starve and freeze?”

Cassian’s mind flashed to a sister left hunting in the woods. Starving and alone in the wilderness. This was a discussion for another time. A talk between sisters who had not healed from years of poverty that had left them hungry and wanting.

“You do not know our ways witch.” Devlon said his voice raising as he turned to face Nesta.

“Perhaps that is why they talk of treason.” Nesta said raising from her crouched position over the map of the Illyrian camps.

“An Illyrian provides for his own or else he starves.” Devlon replied squaring up Nesta.

“Illyrians are more than their males. They are women and children too. They deserve fair treatment and ALL deserve to given the chance to survive when others have more.”

“Females and younglings.” Devlon corrected with contempt. “If they do not have males to provide they do not deserve a hand out they can clean and cook as they have always done.”

“You would ask your people to starve as others thrive?” Nesta said stepping closer to Devlon. Iron in her voice and gaze.

“We provide for ourselves.” Devlon responded not backing down from Nesta’s approach.

“Your people have just known war. Everything was taken from them.”

“It was not our war. This is the pain that has been inflicted to protect the very people who looked down upon us. Who saw our wings and called us lesser.”

“And yet you fought.” Nesta said taking another step.

“Least we be called the traitors that we are now ordered to kill.”

“I remember no one, no commander or Illyrian, forcing your hand.”

Devlon and Nesta stood only feet apart neither backing down from their position.

“You know less of power or war then you credit yourself for, witch.”

“How do you plan to extinguish an uprising with their words upon your lips?”

Devlon growled. “I have served this camp, bled for it. I have killed my people, and you call me traitor?” Devlon took a step forward. Hatred radiating in his glare.

“I am stating that if you want to see change, peace, that it must start from within you if you wish to command it in others.” Nesta spat.

Devlon did not show shame or understanding. Perhaps Illyrian pride could not express it. His eyes drifted from Nesta’s gaze breaking eye contact. He turned to Cassian. “I will reassess the needs of the camp upon sunrise.” He said his voice remaining free of any emotion that Cassian imagined lay within him.

Cassian nodded, “I expect a report afterword. If we are to prepare for war the camp will need to be in full form.” His words did not show the softness he felt for the immensity of change that had come from the shift in conversation. The change Nesta had forced the leader of his camp to face. His people, their people, stood at a precipice wither they chose to fall or fly would be dependent on these formative days. Cassian could only hope that change would befall upon his people. For better, or worse a storm was coming. He only hoped they could withstand this war. “Tomorrow.” Cassian said, a promise and a thanks.

Devlon nodded.

As Nesta and Cassian left the tent Cassian noted where Nesta’s hand had pounded against the map. The piece her fist had fallen upon appeared aged and crumpled. They passed each other hands brushing against one another their bodies close. Cassian felt the rage and longing within Nesta as if it were his own.

A storm was coming. A storm indeed. Where they stood within the fallout would be determined within the coming days. Today however, there was a visit they still had yet to make. Lightning struck as they made their way onward. Thunder rumbled and crackled in the distance as the rain began to pour down. Time, it appeared, was running out.

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