#ALL THE TOOLS ARE EITHER SO GENERIC OR COMPLETELY UNUSABLE

[t0t411y-n0t-hum4n]

fuck trying to make blinkies online, im making them in microsoft paint, not adobe photoshop YOU PUSSIES

[bluepillednormfag]

This post was inspired by @zerodaytime, who made a great analysis of this poem back in april. I've really based my own thoughts on his point that the main theme of the poem was power. (I've chopped up the poem a bit just for ease of explanation: the full poem is here and zerodaytime's analysis of it can be found here)

"The gun may be the perfect weapon," he said,

standing between a rock and a hard place

"But a gun is nothing without a bullet," I replied

As zerodaytime put it, someone is suggesting to the speaker that the gun is the ultimate source of power. But the gun's dependance on the bullet makes the gun nothing: powerless. Allegorically, this implies that to experience true power a killer must be completely independent and in control.

Furthermore, I think it's important that the gun is a very impersonal weapon: it is not actually the gun kills someone, it is the bullet. The speaker is suggesting that that the power experienced in killing is not felt through any tool used to bring you there, but through the final and tactile act itself, and thus that any truly perfect weapon/murder cannot have even the illusion of separation from that act, as a long-range gun does.

I am my bullet.

The speaker, who is almost certainly Cal, views himself as the final piece to a perfect weapon. By being a bullet, he implies that his only purpose is to hurt. If Cal is bullet, there is a sense of inevitability about Zero Day: a bullet can either harm people or go unused and wasted- in a way, this is the "rock and a hard place" mentioned before: the choice between a wasted life or completing Zero Day. This sentiment is also seen in the final line of the poem.

Additionally, by being his own metaphorical bullet, he is in a way owning himself: being dependant on nothing and no-one, having complete control/power in the act of killing: All of which make it seem that he views his murders as an experience of perfect and ultimate power.

I live my life along the parabolic arch of purpose, meaning

Describing the path of his life as parabolic connotes that his actions are simultaneously natural and mathematical: predicable and unchanging in their destination- Cal feels Zero Day is inevitable and meticulously planned/executed.

I really like what zerodaytime pointed out about this line: a life lived in an "arch" suggests that Cal is in a continuous upward motion, implying striving for a higher purpose. However: an arch has both a rise and a fall: the fall being Cals planned suicide and the uselessness of any life beyond the culmination of Zero Day? Perhaps I am reading too much into it here.

And then there was that time when you stepped on a landmine

And I never forgave you

And you could feel the entire rise and fall of the Third Reich at your feet.

Here I am less confident about what the poem means. I do think it is interesting that the person who the speaker addresses has been the victim of some event (compared to a landmine and the Third Reich under their feet) and this victimhood, being at the losing end of some massive destructive power, is what angers the speaker. This could suggest what what most repulses Cal is the idea of victimhood and powerlessness in life.

Also the tense of "I never forgave you" stands out to me: the fact that it is in past tense implies that Cals ability to forgive the person is gone- because he himself is too consumed by the anger that motivates Zero Day? or because the person he is speaking to died as a result of their victimhood? Either way, its interesting.

It's a wasted life.

zerodaytime suggested that the life that Cal is speaking of is that of the person who stepped on a landmine, conveying that a life spent as a helpless victim is a useless one.

Alternatively, he could be speaking about life more generally, or his own life, as reflected his earlier implications that continuing his life without Zero Day would be pointless or perhaps impossible.

I love this poem so much and I really hope that you guys like my analysis :)))

[clover-karin]

An unpopular opinion about Reboot Gwen’s “superpower”

Many fans seem to be complaining that Reboot Gwen doesn’t have any superpowers unlike her classic counterpart. While I’d love to see her getting more chances to fight villains on her own, I’m not a huge fan of her being a part-Anodite because I personally prefer pure magic over alien mana lol 

Plus, this is supposed to be a reboot, so it doesn’t have to the exact same as the classic continuity. Just like how Reboot Kevin has his own Omnitrix instead of being an energy-absorbing mutant. And the RB crew confirmed that the Antitrix was originally based on one of the unused idea for Kevin 11, so I was thinking maybe we could do something similar with Reboot Gwen, too.   

Classic!Gwen originally didn’t have any superpower, either, until she got Charmcaster’s spell book. Before the episode A Change of Face, her main abilities were her wits, martial arts skills, and brilliance in technology.  She often used her personal laptop for research, and sometimes she received special gadgets to help her cousin. 

Reboot Gwen is also the brain of Ben’s team and a skilled martial artist, so maybe her new “power“ could be about technology ---- especially because the idea of Gwen being a tech wiz hasn’t been used anymore in the classic continuity since UAF. 

And this idea of Gwen dealing with technology isn’t totally out of place because we’ve already seen RB Gwen using her smartphone and tablet to search for any information that would help Ben. She also received various gadgets to temporarily fight along with him and their grandfather in the show.  

So instead of giving her a completely new power, we could expand this idea further. RB Gwen still wouldn’t have any superpower, but she’d permanently get her personal weapon instead and join a fight more often. We’ve already seen Rook and his Proto-Tool, so I think this idea could work quite well.  

The most probable option here would be a powered armor as we’ve already seen Gwen getting one in Roundabout. Although I wasn’t too fond of the design, but I did like the idea. Too bad it was only used once.

Speaking of a powered armor, I feel like Gwen was the one who really should’ve gotten the Glitch armor in the movie. It was originally meant for Ben, but both Ben and Kevin already have their watches. And Gwen and Glitch seem to get along with each other quite well in the show. They even worked together to solve a problem in episodes like Vinn Diagram.

Plus, we’ve already seen Future Gwen in her battle suit working with Hitch together to fight the Xerge in Ben 100,10. We know that Glitch can be resurrected with a proper repair, and she didn’t show any magical superpower. 

I know the future changes all the time in Ben 10, but giving Gwen a superweapon does sound more natural than giving her a magical power at this moment.

----Or she could get some kind of energy field generator just like the one from Alien X-tinction, too. This would make a nice nod to her classic counterpart’s Anodite power. But she’d be still a regular human child, so she’d be able to fully enjoy her ordinary life with her family. 

If the next Ben 10 series is really a RB sequel, I’d love to see Gwen in action more. But at the same time, I wish the writers would still remember the main characters are all kids who want to have fun! After all, that was one of the best things about the reboot. 

[hopeshoodie]

I just realized how helpful reposting things is because @ariendiel​ posted screenshots of twitter threads that I couldn’t read in their entirety because I didn’t have a twitter account. And I realized that the Fusebox glassdoor reviews are also behind a ‘make an account’ screen, so maybe not everyone can see them.

So here are all the Glassdoor reviews for Fusebox Games

Image descriptions below the cut

5 Stars review from a current employee of less than one year, posted Jun 8, 2021

Title: Great people, company is indeed in the process to transform and that upsets some who got used to way things used to be.

Pros

People are great! I worked before in big companies with terrible culture and know what bad is. Salaries are matching the industry and have recently been increased quite a bit. The game, even though old and people are bored, is the leader in its genre. Very flexible working, half day Friday.

Cons

The company is rebranding and changing course and that is upsetting some who want things to be as they used to be. I think they need to understand that game companies need to make money if they want a job. So…I wouldn’t listen to all this people complaining. Come and join, now there opportunities for people to advance as old people leave and help us all shape a new future us all.

1 person upvoted this/marked it as ‘found helpful’

1 Star review from a current employee of less than one year, posted Jun 30, 2021

Title: A company killed by managers

Pros

None now, but the workers are amazing human beings. They are being pushed out one by one by upper management.

Cons

Upper managers have set the company towards failure. They stonewalled any attempt at bettering the production process, giving teams more structure and improving the tools, and now are set on the path of outsourcing everything to external partners, while they reap the benefits by owning the IPs. This company had some of the best workforce culture I have ever seen, but the CEO, together with current managers, have sacked key workers and managers that were fostering a collaborative and inclusive culture. They replaced these with corporate behaviour and a complicit newly hired HR department, using the bad financial position the company was in (and for which their decisions and actions were completely at fault for) as an excuse to force workers who wanted to better things out of the door.

7 people upvoted this/marked it as ‘found helpful’

1 Star review from a current employee of less than one year, posted Aug 17, 2021

Title: Corporate gaslighting

Pros

None now, but the workers are amazing human beings. They are being pushed out one by one by upper management.

Cons

Upper managers have set the company towards failure. They stonewalled any attempt at bettering the production process, giving teams more structure and improving the tools, and now are set on the path of outsourcing everything to external partners, while they reap the benefits by owning the IPs. This company had some of the best workforce culture I have ever seen, but the CEO, together with current managers, have sacked key workers and managers that were fostering a collaborative and inclusive culture. They replaced these with corporate behaviour and a complicit newly hired HR department, using the bad financial position the company was in (and for which their decisions and actions were completely at fault for) as an excuse to force workers who wanted to better things out of the door.

7 people upvoted this/marked it as ‘found helpful’

1 Star Review from a former employee, posted May 23, 2021

Title: Proceed with caution

Pros

Flexible hours Work from home Fair pay rises recently introduced

Cons

Extremely poor communication from the Senior Management. The team often don’t know what’s going on with decisions made in a haphazard way. There’s a rapid ‘hire and fire’ mentality - members of the team ‘disappear’ suddenly and without logic when it appears that their ‘face doesn’t fit’ or expressed an opinion to the top level of management that they didn’t want to hear. Hiring is random - ‘friends’ and ‘friends of friends’ get hired rather than those with suitable qualifications and experience. Bullying exists here and if reported you might be asked to leave rather than the complaint being dealt with properly.

14 people upvoted this/marked it as ‘found helpful’

2 Star Review from a former employee of more than one year, posted May 20, 2021

Title: Toxic place full of wonderful people

Pros

Fusebox is a company full of wonderful, caring and talented people that will make you feel at home.

Cons

Management doesn't care about employees and their opinion/feedback. Redundancies happen out of the blue and without clarity of reasons. False values get sponsored as a honey trap. There is no structure in most of the departments, no clear career path and people get squeezed until they have a breakdown.

14 people upvoted this/marked it as ‘found helpful’

2 Star Review from a former employee of more than one year, posted May 27, 2021

Title: Helmless ship -- with the best worker crew you will ever interact with

Pros

Genuinely the greatest workers you may ever have as colleagues. The workers are fun, helpful, energetic, passionate, skillful, witty and an incredibly friendly fellowship.

Cons

Management, or lack thereof. Driven by pseudo-corporatocracy: those who are quite happy scapegoating or throwing capable colleagues under the bus to distract from their own mistakes.

7 people upvoted this/marked it as ‘found helpful’

2 Star Review from a current employee, posted May 20, 2021

Title: A Blowing Fuse

Pros

- Very diverse, inclusive, friendly and respectful workforce.

- Good work-life balance, very understanding of needing personal time and generous with it, including for physical and mental health matters. 

 - Good benefits (occasional Fridays afternoons off, duvet days, training time and budget, private healthcare...), good salaries (much improved from a few years ago, although there might still be discrepancies between the teams). 

 - Promotions happen regularly, either to higher seniority levels or to different departments, which is nice, but can also be a con (see below).

 - Give chances to graduates/people looking for new roles (which can be a con, see below).

Cons

In summary: most of the management and staff is either incompetent, indecisive or not listened to, which makes the development of current and new games nigh impossible and the atmosphere increasingly negative. The management is attempting to make things better, but so far they have not actively listening and communicating with their workforce, and don’t seem to care much about them since they arbitrarily lay-off competent and appreciated employees. 

 - Indecisive and disorganised management, leading to slow or frozen project development, especially for new projects. 

 - The staff is not listened to; upper management makes decisions without consulting their teams, even the leads. Leads are often as clueless as their teams, if not more, about what is happening in the company. 

 - No creative direction/vision owner, no one seems to know what to do nor how to do it. 

 - Huge tech debt, the Unity project of the live game is almost unusable. 

 - Upper management does not understand how games are made, therefore can't provide the development teams with what they need. 

 - Somewhat exploitative towards junior staff, hiring straight from uni without proper mentoring/management; they abuse from their lack of experience and expect them to do all the work without any manager properly helping them, and/or expect them to do multiple jobs at once. There's a fine line between encouraging graduate/junior hiring, and hiring graduates because they're cheap and won't speak up because they have no other experience. 

 - Seniority is not always representative of the industry level, junior staff is sometimes being misled into thinking their skills and workflow are at industry level, because they get promoted without proper mentoring.

- Repeatedly make empty promises for years on, keep the staff motivated by promising new game development but it never happens, go back on their words, say everything and their opposite whenever it suits them. 

 - Mislead on hiring about what the role will be or can't always deliver on it; don't provide adequate support to get the job done or don’t give them the opportunity to do the work they were hired to do, don't understand game development workflows. - Poor communication across the different departments, there is no or very little aligment between the teams, teams often discover other teams have done work relevant to them long after the fact. 

 - The teams are not treated equally, some are treated as better than the others (which leads to very different experiences of the company between teams). The upper management does not understand the real impact each team has in the making of a good game. 

 - Sharing publicly feedback and questions with teammates and managers is reprehensible, many of the staff and managers can't take criticism; they say they want to improve that but they don’t put their money where their mouth is, the company communications are out of touch if not dishonest. 

 - Used to pride themselves on inclusivity but removed it from their values, and the teams are forbidden from making the game stories as inclusive as they want to; there are concerns of homophobia/transphobia with the product direction despite a good part of the company being queer. There is also a history of sexual harassment from higher-up. 

 - Office culture used to be good but company reorg led to a colder, impersonal communication with the staff. Live, honest communication is discouraged (even if they say they do want it). 

- HRs don’t have genuine talks with the staff, leading to a feeling of hypocrisy and disconnect between the company’s values and what the staff really wants.

18 people upvoted this/marked it as ‘found helpful’

1 Star Review from current employee, posted Jul 2, 2021

Title: Management do not know how to make games at all

Pros

Decent pay, lots of benefits, decent office, remote work if you need it

Cons

They do not care about their workers, full of people who don't know what it actually takes to make games, repeatedly lie to and ignore their employees' concerns, then blame those same workers when things go wrong, full of yes men and ideas people and led by people from outside the industry who have no idea what they are doing, avoid at all costs

9 people upvoted this/marked it as ‘found helpful’

5 Star Review from a former employee of less than 1 year, posted May 7, 2019

Title: Loved every minute, fantastic company to work for

Pros

Fun, relaxed environment and culture. 

Fantastic team. Everyone is so friendly, approachable and easy to talk to, including management. We had some great laughs. You'll make friends for life here. 

Beautiful new office in a handy location, although the company has almost outgrown it already within just a few months. 

I really enjoyed the work. The role is something I enjoy anyway, but the projects are a lot of fun and it's so satisfying seeing the fruits of your labours coming to life. 

Management has been ramping up efforts to be attentive, respond to and act on employee feedback and concerns as the company grows. 

The company's in a pretty good place, so job security is good (considering the industry's reputation). Fusebox ain't goin' nowhere. It's a particularly good place to get your start in the industry. 

This studio doesn't believe in crunch/unpaid overtime, which is... pretty rare. Management is dedicated to ensuring that Fusebox is as positive and non-exploitative a company as possible; for example, they take a great, understanding attitude to things like mental health. I always felt like I could talk to them. 

Overall, I had a brilliant experience at Fusebox and would 100% have stayed if I hadn't been offered something career-changing, which in itself would not have happened without the experience I got from this studio. Particularly for narrative designers, this role provides fantastic opportunities to develop your branching narrative skills. I've never written such a positive review for a former employer in my life and I would definitely work there again.

Cons

Lacking process and structure in some areas, though I believe this is something the company is actively working on tackling and it's definitely just a teething issue given the company's rapid growth. 

The pay is about average/maybe slightly on the lower end, but it's technically a startup, so... 

It's gradually growing slightly cliquey as the company grows, which is unfortunate but also to be expected, and everyone is still perfectly friendly and nice. Again, I believe management has been taking steps to mitigate this as much as possible, for example by introducing Slack integrations to encourage people to get lunch together at the same time rather than just in their friendship groups. 

Opportunities for upward/sideways career movement need improving/illuminating, especially for teams like integration.

1 person upvoted this/marked it as ‘found helpful’

1 Star Review from a current employee of more than 1 year, posted Nov 20, 2019

Title: Not a great company

Pros

Flexible hours 

Nice team 

Ability to work from home

Cons

Management not decisive 

Staff take advantage 

Senior member of staff sacked trying to make decisions 

No transparency

Impossible schedules

10 people upvoted this/marked it as ‘found helpful’

5 Star Review from a current employee of less than one year, posted May 27, 2019

Title: Amazing place to work!

Pros

Really friendly environment, surrounded by talented, fun people who are passionate about the work, lovely office space.

Cons

No cons! A great environment.

No one upvoted this/marked it as ‘found helpful’

5 Star Review from a current employee of less than one year, posted Jan 24, 2017

Title: The most marvellous mobile games company in London

Pros

Fast paced, super creative business working in partnership with some of the biggest names in entertainment. Making huge games for TV shows loved all over the world.

Cons

It all happens very fast and very professionally- keep up! (Sometimes less is more, don't you think? Not here though)

No one upvoted this/marked it as ‘found helpful’

[waxesnostalgic]

Making Normal Channels in GIMP (with njob)

Hello everyone! I was explaining how to do this in the Sims of History discord server and realized how much of this process I learned through trial and error. There isn’t really a good step-by-step tutorial about how to do this in GIMP, only in Photoshop (at least no text-based tutorials). While I use both Photoshop and GIMP for various things, I prefer to make my normal channels in GIMP. This tutorial will walk you through the process and hopefully demystify normal channels in GIMP.

Normal channels (bump maps) add additional depth beyond your mesh, which is useful for things like folds, painted on pockets, and buttons.

This tutorial is particularly for how to make Create-a-Sim items, not objects, but a lot of steps should be transferable.

You will need (all free programs):

GIMP

njob

Sims4Studio and/or CAS Tools

First, open your diffuse texture in GIMP. I often try to use the light/base texture rather than one I have colored already, but if you have already colored it and didn’t save a base, don’t worry, it doesn’t make much of a difference. Don’t use an image which has a pattern applied to it, as that will create a bump on the pattern and appear like applique or something along those lines (unless that is your goal).

I recommend doing this step after you have tested your diffuse texture image and mesh (if applicable) in the game. If you have any last minute changes to either of these, you will probably need to re-do your normal from scratch.

If your image is in layers for recoloring, or not, choose to flatten the image.  Transparency isn’t helpful in making normal channels, so get rid of it so you won’t have to worry about it later.

Once you have flattened it, the background usually turns either black or white. It doesn’t really matter which one, it won’t make much of a difference in njob.

Now, select the crop tool. You can see the current dimensions of the image in the “aspect ratio” box. For a CAS items, the original will be 1024:2048, which is 1 x 2. We will need to crop the image into a 1 x 1, or perfect square.

To have your normal channel as high quality as possible, you should use 1024:1024. This will work for clothing items like full body outfits, tops, bottoms, gloves, socks, and tights (basically anything mapped in this bottom portion of the UV map). For all of these items, you must use a square and cannot crop it to be smaller. For shoes, this means a very large blank area.

For accessory items like jewelry and hats, the cropping is different. For instance, a hat would be 512:256. If you are unsure of the dimensions to use, export the normal channel on the maxis item and copy its dimensions. The following instructions will assume you are making a clothing item and not an accessory item.

Click anywhere on the image while you have the crop tool active, then adjust your dimensions in the box to the left. You can manually type it in or drag the box and follow the size in the box as you drag.

The box should be perfectly aligned with the bottom and have no space below. If you have space below, just drag it as far to the bottom as you can. GIMP will stop you from dragging it outside of your current dimensions. If a little is sticking out at the top, that is okay. Nothing can be mapped outside of the 1024:1024 dimensions, so it is probably just bleed over or space filler that you are cropping off.

Press “Enter” on your keyboard to complete the crop.

Optional Step: If you desire, you may want to decrease the brightness and increase the contrast on your image so there will be more for njob to pick up. If you already have a lot of contrast, you may not need to do this.

Next, export your image as a PNG or BMP. Be sure to not overwrite your original diffuse texture.

You can now close GIMP, though you will need to open it again later.

Open njob, then your saved, cropped image.

Maximize your screen so you can see what you’re doing.

Go to Filter > Diffusemap > Heightmap and select that option.

The screen will pause to load for a bit before opening up a new box.

Your image will convert to black and white and may look a bit strange. The first step is to change your “Course Detail” setting to the lowest (or close to the lowest) setting and your “Fine Detail” to the highest setting. I generally play around with the “Mid Detail” and “Scale” until I get what I want. Try to have what you want to be visible stand out, while folds should be soft and fuzzy but still somewhat distinguishable.

Once you have what you need, click OK and go to Filter > Heightmap > Normalmap

There are two settings, “Scale” and “Blur Radius.” Neither of them have “ideal” settings, so you will need to adjust as you need. “Scale” controls the depth of the contrast and “Blur Radius” impacts the softness of the image. If your edges are too harsh, your normal map may look odd in game.

You will probably also have lines in areas in no texture. This is normal, and I will go over how to remove those later.

Once you are satisfied with how things look, save the image as a bitmap.

Now, open your bitmap image in GIMP. It is time to clean up the image and get rid of the artifacts. Unfortunately, unlike a specular, a normal map doesn’t have a mask to prevent bleed over onto skin or other textures. The unused areas need to be a midrange, solid grey. It is easier to edit at this step before you create your transparency.

Select a midrange blue color from one of the blank areas with your color selector and make it your background color by using the arrow button between the foreground and background colors.

Select the areas that should be blank and delete them, which will replace the lines with a solid blue color. This would be areas around the neck, wrists and ankles, and also places like the filler beneath skirts and tops that doesn’t need texturing. Be sure to select the odd lines around the image, which are usually a bright teal or hot pink color. Those can be very visible.

Sometimes, you may need to take your paintbrush and clean up the artifacts if they are in curved or very small areas. If anything looks too sharp, you can also use the smudge brush to smooth it out (very lightly). But don’t move anything around too much.

Once you have cleaned up your image, export it again as a bitmap. This is just so you can go back to it if you make a mistake later or need to modify it. Usually I save it as a new image, but you can overwrite the old one if you are feeling confident.

I have to point out that sometimes you can get away with not cleaning the artifacts from your image. But I have had too many issues with it in the past to skip this step.

Now it is time to make the normal map. Finally!

In the layers area, right click on your single layer and add an alpha channel to it. There is also a small button at the bottom you can use to add an alpha channel. You will need this transparency for the next step.

Next, go to Colors > Components > Decompose.

A small box will open up. Change your color model from RGB to RGBA to enable the alpha channel as a separate channel (layer).

Now, a new image will open that is your bitmap but greyscale. You will see four layers on the side called red, green, blue and alpha.

Select the red layer and click CTRL + A on your keyboard to select the entire layer. Then, click CTRL + C to copy the layer. (If you don’t have a keyboard, you can do “Select all” and “Copy” but this takes longer).

Now, go to your layer named alpha and press CTRL + V (paste) and CTRL + H (to anchor the layer). Now, you have replaced the alpha channel with the red channel.

Next, go to the green layer and select and copy it. Paste and anchor it into the red and blue layers, just as you did before with the red layer and alpha layer.

Your image won’t look too much different right now, it will just look like the green alpha channel rather than the visible red alpha channel when you opened it. Go back to the top bar and choose Colors > Components > Recompose. This will alter your original image, so the one you have open in layers will stay open. Go back up to the top and select the original image to go back to it, or close your layered image.

Now, your image should have changed from mostly blue to a transparent, mid-range gray with only a few elements visible. This is how it is supposed to look. If you don’t have transparency or it looks very different, then you probably messed up somewhere. Generally, I find it easier to go back to the original cleaned up bitmap (that you saved for future use) and start from scratch rather than trying to figure out where I messed up. That is usually faster.

Next, export your single-layer image as a PNG or DDS file (your preference). You will need a DDS plugin to save DDS files.

Open your item in Sims4Studio and import your new image file in the normal texture category. You will see a small preview in the box, which will probably show more details than you were able to see in GIMP. If it looks correct, save it and go to check it in game or in CASTools (which has a feature for previewing bumpmaps that can help you check for alignment problems). CASTools can be particularly useful if your computer doesn’t open the Sims quickly and you want to preview multiple bumpmaps. The only issue with CASTools is that it doesn’t really look much like it will look in game.

In CASTools. You have to select to see the bumpmap in the Previewer tab.

In game.

As I have only been making normal channels for a few months now, it’s possible I have missed some things, so if you know an easier or better way let me know and I can update the tutorial. I hope this is useful to you!

[whattolearntoday]

October 18th is...

Chocolate Cupcake Day - Celebrates the sweetness of small chocolate cakes. With a dollop of frosting, one sweet serving satisfies chocolate and cake lovers!

Clean Your Virtual Desktop Day - A clean and organized space offers fewer frustrations. Everything is in its file and you know where to find it. Archive old files. Create short cuts. This will help your computer run faster and help you find them more quickly. Pin favorite apps to the start menu.  Name photos and put them on a thumb drive. Clean out that email, too. Delete unused icons. Make sure your virus protection is up to date and run it. Make sure it runs on a regular schedule. 

Developmental Language Disorder Awareness Day - DLD Day for short was launched to initiate the new terminology that described previous speech disorders. With the campaign ‘DLD 1-2-3’, it promoted awareness of these issues and helped spread knowledge about how common DLD can occur in children’s lives. Developmental Language Disorder is when a child or young adult has difficulty understanding language and speaking.

Exascale Day -  This era in technology will have a profound impact on nearly every aspect of our daily lives. It will impact everything from healthcare and manufacturing to understanding new energy sources and the origins of the universe. Exascale is defined as a quintillion computations per second. For perspective, if all 7.7 billion people on earth each completed one calculation per second, it would take over 4 years. An exascale computer can complete a quintillion computations in 1 second.

International Legging Day - Once a necessity providing an added layer of warmth, the legging is now an iconic style combining comfort and fashion. Leggings truly set a trend in the 1950s and ‘60s as a standard wardrobe piece and workout essential. Over time, breathable materials, textures, designs, and prints ushered in the undeniable era of leggings. Now, modern-day leggings are feats of engineering designed to enhance your workout. While they continue to be a gym essential, legging styles are now so versatile that they’re widely acceptable to wear as pants. In a wide range of looks, comfortable leggings offer something for everyone.

No Beard Day - Whether you have had your beard for years or it is relatively new for you, this is the day to shave it off and go smooth. Achieving a close, kissable shave is a lost art that faded with a generation that had the first color televisions installed. Consider investing in the tools your grandfather or possibly your great-grandfather used – either a safety razor or a straight razor will give you the closest shave along with a natural bristled shaving brush and shaving soap. More care and time may be required, but the results are well worth the effort.

World Menopause Day -  If you are a woman, there is no escaping menopause. Every woman will reach a point in their life in which they no longer have their period. A woman reaches menopause after it’s been one year since their last period. For many women, reaching menopause stirs up various emotions. Women are happy to no longer have their menstrual cycle. However, this can be devastating as well as it means their childbearing years are over.  The fluctuations in hormones also cause symptoms that can be hard to manage.

[haliyam]

No matter what

eren x historia; yeager bro moments (or zeke wishes lol)

Summary: The time has come for Marley to choose its new Warriors, and Eren has a decision to make. (Also, "some things never change.") Warriors AU for erehisu day.

AO3 link if you prefer to read there

--

Happy erehisu day! I saw this amazing erehisu art by beforelightsout on twitter where Eren and Historia are Warrior candidates + Eren became a shifter. Since it's erehisu day and everyone has come out with such wonderful stuff, I wanted to contribute somehow and write something for that AU. I've been dying of work and a covid scare so I was running on the fumes of my love for this ship and everyone else's stuff and also VIBES while writing this in the last hour, so, it's barely edited, if it even makes sense. Sorry in advance. I hope you enjoy though! 

Also, for this AU (or really for the fic to work lol), my headcanon is that the war keeping the previous Warriors dragged on, so Reiner's generation don't get selected until they're this age (Historia and Eren are 17). As for Zeke... idk. Maybe Mr. Ksaver had more time too. Anyway who cares about Zeke here!!! (me I still do)

No matter what

“You know this counts as cheating.”

Eren shoots Zeke a look. They’re standing at the courtyard in HQ, watching the younger candidates wheeze through their training while Magath and his assistant instructors bark orders in the background. Days before selection, and with Zeke already holding the Beast Titan and Colt preparing to inherit, their generation doesn’t need to be put through their paces as often anymore—or maybe Commander Bruning is just letting them off the hook for the week.

They both doubt that. 

Up ahead, Falco trips over an unseen pebble, and Zeke sighs. 

“You don’t have to do this, you know?” he says, out of misplaced brotherly affection. Eren appreciates it, but that’s not what he needs right now. “You already have the armband.”

“This isn’t about me.”

“I know,” Zeke raises his hands in surrender, but the playful gesture doesn’t take away the scrutiny in his gaze. For all his levity, he doesn’t once glance away. Eren knows he’s seeing their father in him, trying to decide whether that’s a positive or a negative. 

“So?”

Zeke scratches the back of his ear. “You already know you’re in the running for the Attack Titan and the Armored Titan. Porco and Reiner are on your heels for the Armor. As for the Attack Titan…”

Zeke tilts his head in a shrug. Eren exhales, and then nods. “Thanks.”

His brother peers at him, a small smile curling at the corners of his mouth. “Thanks what?”

Eren is grateful, reassured, but not that grateful. “What am I, ten? I’m not calling you big bro.”

Zeke lets out a long-suffering sigh this time, the kind he uses to guilt trip the others into helping him with paperwork at his age. “You used to be such a cute kid.” He’s quick enough to reach over and ruffle Eren’s hair, and then withdraw before he can smack his hand away. “Now you’re all grown up.”

Eren rolls his eyes, but claps a hand to his brother’s arm in earnest. “Thanks, Zeke.”

The man gives him a thumbs up, and Eren belatedly catches a sliver of gold pass one of the windows behind the courtyard ahead of the other girls. His feet take him forward before he can bid his brother goodbye.

“Go on,” Zeke says, right as Eren catches himself almost sheepishly. He goes to her without another thought.

--

There’s no big to-do when it comes to the selection process. Apart from their generation of candidates, there’s only Zeke, standing to the side with the other instructors who assist the captain, while Magath and Commander Bruning themselves stand together, as imposing as the day they first met.

Maybe a little less now that they’ve earned their stripes, training for a decade with the extension of the war in the South, but Eren can feel the pressure of this moment bearing down on him. 

The others have been chosen. They stand at the other side of the room, putting on their most dignified expressions and trying to contain their shock at their commander’s question. 

“There remain two Titans, Eren Yeager,” said Commander Bruning seconds, maybe a minute ago. Eren’s mind is still reeling. “Which of them, in your estimation, best suits you?”

“Me, sir?” he had asked dumbly in response. Bruning had only nodded.

It isn’t supposed to happen like this. From the group ready to receive their red armbands, he feels Marcel’s eyes burning into his side. Marcel, who was pulled aside by Magath and Bruning earlier today. Eren expected the same treatment—not this. Is this a test? 

Porco and Reiner stand to his left, behind him because he’s stepped forward, and he feels hazel daggers ready to strike at his back. He doesn’t care about them right now. It’s the blue to his right that envelops his all. The air is replete with Historia’s expectation, drowning out all the others in the room. He feels weightless in it, a drop in the ocean that is her existence to him. 

Eren knows he could be more. If he gives the right answer, she might just see him as more.

But Historia isn’t the ocean to these people. She’s a tool, or she could be, and he cannot let that happen. Eren remembers the ground under his feet and peers into the commander’s eyes.

“If I may, sir, I believe Braun has always had the most endurance among the candidates,” he says clearly, just like he’s rehearsed with Marcel. He tries not to imagine the way Historia’s stomach drops. “Nowadays he takes Leonhart’s hits like they’re almost nothing. And for myself—I’ve come to specialize in close quarters combat. The Attack Titan would suit me best.”

Reiner sighs in relief not far from him. Porco and Historia are utterly silent. He can’t even hear them breathing.

Bruning and Magath seem not to notice. They only exchange glances, and if they think anything of Eren answering more than what was asked of him, they say nothing. 

After a few nods, Bruning turns toward them with pride. “It’s as we thought. I see no reason why we should delay for pointless suspense or further deliberation.” With a small motion of the commander’s hand, Reiner steps forward. “Congratulations, Yeager. Braun. You have earned the honor of becoming the new sword and shield of our great motherland Marley.”

--

The room erupts with excitement as soon as the Marleyans are surely gone from the hallway. Eren is already headed for the door when Porco tries to grab him by the shoulder.

“Eren, what the hell? You know this asshole isn’t better than me!”

Reiner sneers at him from behind before Eren can even shrug him off. “Apparently the brass knew different, Pock. Don’t take it out on Eren—he only affirmed what they were already thinking.”

Porco growls, turning on Reiner instead, which means it’s going to be one of those afternoons. Eren is happy to turn back for the door—he feels bright blue trained on him now, and it’s all he can do not to scamper for the exit.

Clutching the cigarette pack in his uniform pocket, he manages to get as far as two floors down before Historia catches up. She’s been calling out to him since she gave chase.

“Hey!” she yells. He was stupid to head for their usual spot. There’s a corridor in this building that’s gone unused for a while that they found, once, when it was their turn for cleaning duty. It’s been theirs since then, and one of the windows has the best view of the city right outside the internment zone’s walls—and the zone entrance itself. So they don’t forget what they’re supposed to do. 

“Eren!”

She’s starting to lose her breath, unable to match his longer strides. His footsteps start to slow, right as they reach that window. He turns around when hers stop too.

Hands still in his pockets, he stares down at her. “What is it?”

Historia glares at him, dignified even as she tries to catch her breath. “What the hell are you doing?”

Eren fishes out the cigarette pack from his pocket and shows her. It’s really Zeke’s, but he figured he’d need it after today. He isn’t wrong. 

She scoffs. “Since when do you smoke?”

“I’m going to be a shifter,” he shrugs. “It doesn’t matter much now, right?”

Historia shakes her head, smart enough to ignore the diversion. “Eren, what the hell was that? I thought… I thought we understood each other.” Always to the point. “I thought you and I would become Warriors together. Change things from the inside and convince the others to do the same.”

The truth of her confusion, her frustration and growing anger pulls at him. She’s everything she didn’t used to be, back when she was still playing the perfect little Warrior who unnerved him so much. It’s exactly why he needs to keep a straight face. 

“Ah… yeah. Sorry about that,” he murmurs, his tone completely level, fingers pinching at the cigarette pack in his fist. “I just gave it some thought, and… I think Reiner would be better as the Armor, not me. So—that left me as the Attack Titan.”

The pain in her eyes is almost too much for him. If only they were cold, just like she’d been the moment he saw her true self for the first time. That way he could crystallize himself in them and shatter instead of having to face her like this. But she hasn’t been cold for a long while, and the warmth in her gaze even after his betrayal does him in. 

“You’re lying,” she realizes the moment his gaze flickers away from hers. Eren curses himself for it. “You once said you could always tell when I was being fake. You think, after everything we’ve been through, that I wouldn’t know it with you either?”

Eren bites his tongue and forces himself to meet those eyes again. He reminds himself why he did it. It’s all that keeps his hands steady as he carelessly flicks the cigarette pack open and reaches for a stick. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Historia swipes her hand at his, knocking the pack from his grasp. It hits the ground with a pathetic smack. “Don’t lie to me, Eren!” she says, pleads even when she’s angry, because they’re friends, aren’t they? If only that were all she is. “You know I deserve more than that. Why are you doing this!? We were going to become Warriors together. We were supposed to have thirteen years together!”

She’s free to vent her frustrations in the hallway like they always have with each other, voice shaky and shakier still as the grief escapes her. By the time she mentions that number, Historia is on the verge of tears, but she blinks them away with the fury that remains. How unlike him, who wants to fold more than anything, feeling like the slightest breeze, the slightest word from her can knock him over. He can only stare at the ground as he swallows down the emotion rising in his throat, and that’s when he realizes it. She’s right, like she always is. He can’t stand lying to her. 

The prospect of having to utter his next words terrifies him more than the idea of paradise. But he manages it, because she deserves to know the truth.

“You know why,” he says, trembling only at the last word. Shamefully, face red with self-disgust, he lifts his eyes to hers, fearing the worst. 

She catches his meaning. Of course she does—she knows him best. He expects her to leap at him, punch him, anything that will make the guilt of his selfishness ebb even just a little, but she only stands there. Shocked, and then her cheeks flush in only the most beautiful way. He already knows he’ll never forget how the light from the windows illuminates her face like this.

But then her brows furrow, shoulders raising angrily, and she stomps her foot on the ground. “Am I supposed to be grateful for that?” she snaps. “Should I say thank you for making this decision without me? What about what I wanted?”

“No!” Eren stammers, hands up in submission as if that will placate her. “Of course not! I didn’t do this for your gratitude!” 

“Then why did you do it?” Her voice is still raised, but her tone is resigned. Historia knows that even if she gets the answer, Marley’s decision is set in stone.

That’s the thought Eren takes comfort in. The tears that dampen his eyes are tears of relief, no matter his shame, no matter his remorse. And here he thought he’d grown out of this when he turned sixteen. 

Pressing his lips into his teeth in an attempt to maintain his composure, Eren lets his gaze drop again. “I want you to live,” he admits, so quietly she almost misses it. “I want you to grow up and have a family like you wished you could, if you weren’t pushed into this when we were children. Get married, have children you’re free to love the way…”

He trails off. The last thing he wants to do is mention her mother. He knows she understands when she doesn’t press him to finish.

“I want you to grow old,” he continues. “Live past thirty. Get to fifty, seventy… Then you can be as grumpy as you want to be without anyone saying it doesn’t suit you. I want you to be happy.”

A slight hiccup leaves his throat, one Historia misses only because she does the same. Eren swallows it down, but his nose is already stuffy. When he looks at her again, he’s the most serious he has ever been, and it’s no performance. He reaches for her hands. 

“I’m not prepared to sacrifice your life for our cause,” he confesses. Eren imagines he could bear never to look out that window and see the walls torn down, the way they’ve dreamt together for the past few years, if it means she will live to see it herself long after he’s gone. He’s not articulate enough to say it, his ears and his throat so full with everything he wants to tell her in this moment that he’s speechless. How can he be otherwise, when she’s looking at him like that? All he can blurt out is, “I’m sorry.”

A silence brews between them. Eren wonders if it’s time to step away, to leave her to her thoughts. Maybe he can still beg for forgiveness later.

He loosens his grip on her hands, meaning to wipe his eyes, and that’s when she seizes his. “You stupid crybaby,” she murmurs quietly, fondly, “do you really think I’d be happy knowing you sacrificed yourself for me? Why do you think I promised you that we’d complete our mission within the next thirteen years?”

Eren can only look dumbfounded. 

“I wanted to spend them with you, you idiot,” she gives him, even as her voice quivers with the same desperate longing he’s felt ache in his chest for as long as he can remember now. “I would have been happier spending thirteen years with you, fighting together, than sitting out the fight and living the rest of my life without you. Isn’t that what we agreed on? To work toward what we promised? Together? What did you think I meant by that?”

Eren opens his mouth, body drained of the cool facade he’s found solace in the last few weeks since he came to terms with his greed.

“Historia,” he breathes. Remembers to. “You—?”

She’s had enough of him, he can tell by the look on her face—but he’s wrong again, because Historia grabs him by the collar and pulls him down to her, meeting his mouth with hers in a bid to help him see the truth. His fingers find her face on instinct, lips parting as they kiss so he can partake of her further. 

A moment, a hum from her and something stirring deep inside him, and Historia pulls away as if in punishment. She’s flush again, glaring until those blue eyes soften at his stupid expression. 

“Get it yet?” she asks.

His thumbs slide across her cheek, a small grin pulling at his mouth. She really is the ocean, Eren thinks, and dives in again, drinking of those soft lips, drowning in the scent of her hair, the feeling of her hands sliding down his chest. She’s everything.

What feels like both a moment and an eon passes as they stand there, him bent down as he kisses her, her tiptoed to grant it to him, until they eventually part. Only a little, because they can’t bear the distance just yet. Just so their foreheads are pressed together.

“I’m sorry,” Eren murmurs, before he’s lost in her again. “I didn’t know.”

Historia’s lashes flutter as she blinks away her own tears. This doesn’t change the consequences of the decision he’s made on his own, but she knows she can’t give him up, either. When she opens her eyes, she’s more resolute than he’s ever felt in his life. “There has to be a way,” she tells him. “Go to Paradis. Retake the Founding Titan… and come back. Then we’ll do as we promised.”

“Change the curse,” he replies, like they’ve planned, looking out at the stars from his roof in the zone. “Free our people.”

Historia nods. “No matter what.”

“No matter what,” he agrees. 

She smiles, and he can’t help that the way her lips purse when she tries to stifle it moves him. Eren draws closer—

“There you are!”

—and nearly stumbles as he and Historia untangle their limbs from one another, practically standing at attention when they hear his brother’s voice and Marcel’s surprised ah.

Unfortunately, not even the most perfect posture can erase the affection still blooming in their cheeks, or the slight swell of their lips resulting from that affection. Or the smiles they just can’t help for one another.

Zeke squints. Also unfortunately, nothing gets past this asshole. “Oh, so it finally happened?”

Marcel glances between the two of them, coming closer. “Seriously?”

Zeke snorts, palm open to the new Jaw. “Pay up, Galliard.”

Marcel scoffs. “Come on. Is it really fair if you had inside information?”

“Are you kidding? My baby brother tells me squat.”

“Oh. Yeah, I mean I guess I understand that…”

Historia lets out a very audible sigh. “Can we help you?”

Marcel meets Eren’s gaze, gratitude and apology in his smile, while Zeke tries on his new Warchief role for size. He clears his throat.

“Now that Porco and Reiner have settled down, Bruning and Magath want to see us again. Discuss our steps going forward, run tests on the new Warriors… The works. Time to go.”

Marcel sighs. “Talk about eager.”

“All right,” Eren says, finally, because he prefers serious Zeke to his annoying brother right now. He feels vulnerable enough, and he doesn’t care to be that way in front of these two. Or anyone else but her, really. “Lead the way.”

Zeke and Marcel turn to leave, starting to argue the terms of their wager as they disappear around the corner.

Historia and Eren look to each other. A shy smile finds its way to his face as he offers her his hand. 

“By the way, Eren,” Zeke pokes his head into the corridor again, finger waving at the mess of sticks on the floor, “you owe me a new pack of cigarettes. And clean that up.”

Eren groans. “Shut up!”

“But that was my favorite brand! The things I do for love,” his brother whines, to Marcel’s quiet chuckling, and finally they leave for good. 

“Sorry about that,” Eren mutters. Not that Historia hasn’t seen him like this before.

She only laughs as she accepts his hand. When she shakes her head, smiling as she pulls him forward, he feels like they might actually do it. That they might be able to find a way past those thirteen years.

And even if they don’t, he can’t feel regret. As long as they’ve managed to accomplish their mission… No, as long as he can ensure that Historia lives on, he’ll pay any price.

No matter what.

//

I'll take any opportunity to give Marcel more screentime. Well, I actually debated with myself whether it would be Marcel or Bertholdt in the last scene, but Marcel made more sense so that Zeke could whine about being an older brother to someone who could relate. (And yes, Marcel and Eren made a deal to have Reiner become the Armor. I’M SORRY REINER)

Writing Eren's parts made me realize how much I'm in love with Historia??? Like I've always loved her but I guess I realized I'm IN love with her XD Also my hc is Eren here likes to think he's the strong one protecting them both or he at least likes to project that image to the others, but really he takes his cues from Historia who is much stronger emotionally and mentally imo. Idk, I just think she's the boss in this relationship (though of course they are able to be vulnerable with one another which is the biggest thing for me).

Anyway. Thank you for reading! Happy erehisu day!

P.S. I forgot to mention that 'Commander Bruning' in my hc is the guy who tells Magath that it's a good idea to use child soldiers as their Warriors. I imagine he was in charge of a certain number of Eldian soldiers, including the Warrior program, while Magath was the 'captain' who directly managed the kids until his and Bruning's eventual promotions when they were able to conquer nations with such success.

[5-falsehoods-phonated]

When Our Hands Next Meet

Series summary: Soulmates are given memories of their past lives when their hands touch. For Virgil and Logan, each memory is happier than the last.

This series was created for @analogicalweek and made in collaboration with the lovely @birdsongisland! Please go look at the wonderful piece they did with this and support them with reblogs so their work can be seen!

All the credit to birdsongisland as well for beta reading this!! It wouldn't have come out half as well without them ^-^

Chapter 3: Lay With Me

Chapter Summary: Having a soulbond means sharing dreams- and nightmares. Logan and Virgil comfort each other with hopes for their future.

Day 3 Prompt: Nightmares/Dreams

Warnings: implied death mention, nightmares, claustrophobia. If there are others please let me know!

WC: 2109

AO3 link

Taglist (ask to be added or removed): @ace-in-a-shopping-cart @janus-is-an-adorable-snek-boi @logans-library @im-an-anxious-wreck @edupunkn00b

It was hot and dark and close and loud.

The sharp clanks of pickaxes piercing his ears combined with the sparks flashing in his eyes made his head spin with overstimulation. His hands and arms are numb as the constant vibrations of his own tool send prickling shock waves up his arms. No matter how tightly he would tie the respirator mask, the attempt to seal out the dust flying in the air was in vain as he could practically feel each particle rip its way through his throat and settle in his heaving chest. Still he worked- legs shaking, arms heavy with blackness threatening to snuff out the weak light of his head lamp if ever he grew too comfortable in his precarious position. The general din of tools slamming against rock, raspy hum of those few who could stand to carry a tune and the bark of supervisors pounded against his skull but for all the distractions he could swear he still heard the ominous creak of the wooden support beams beginning to buckle under the weight of the tons of earth above them. 

It was a job with risks but one of the only ones he could find readily available and had taken it without a moment's thought when faced with the choice of that or living on the streets. It barely paid a decent enough wage to build up their savings but if it put food on the table at the end of the day he found it hard to complain. He was often described as a victim of circumstance, doomed to the heavy labor of mining for the coal industry for the rest of his days unless by some miracle he managed to find something better. Everything around him was owned by the industry- even the store he bought his overpriced bread from- but everyday he made his way home and was greeted with a warm dinner and an even warmer smile, promises of something better spoken on lips that pressed against his still dusty cheek. So he took a step forward in the claustrophobic darkness and took another swing that just barely broke off anything usable from the wall in front of him and hoped that today when he went home his dreams of something better would finally become a reality.

His next swing was punctuated by a crack that echoes through the low tunnel he was working in, making him squint in confusion at the wall that up until this point had remained stubbornly solid. Another loud crack sounded to his right just as he felt thin trickles of dirt rain down on his helmet from above. He knew what this was- had read about it and been in adjacent tunnels enough to recognize the beginnings of a cave-in- but he knew even before he dropped his tool and yelled out a warning as he started sprinting towards the entrance that it was too late. Desperate screams and warnings swirled around him to mix with the ever more frequent cracks and heart stopping sounds of splintering wood. He wasn’t fast enough, he couldn’t dare hope to compete with the will of earth this deep underground. Dust rose up  as the walls began to buckle and cave, debris from the ceiling blinding him and turning him around even as he tried desperately to claw his way out- real exit be damned.

He ended up by one of the only walls still left standing, workers shoving past in an attempt to not be left behind. The exit was already gone as was most of the cave they had been hauling great piles of coal and dirt out of for the past month. He couldn’t see his feet and realized with a start that dirt was pouring around him at a quicker rate than he had cared to notice in his panic, cementing him in place while the support beams above him moaned and splintered. He hardly had time to close his eyes and send out a quick and silent goodbye to the one waiting for him at home before the beams snapped, dirt filling his grave and leaving nothing but a blanket of sudden calm in the wake of disaster.

-----

Logan shot up in bed, breath coming out in sharp gasps as he threw the blankets to the floor and fumbled with the oil lamp on the bedside table. Seeing the warm glow hardly helped setted his nerves, merely reminding him he was in fact in his apartment in bed and not underground with nothing but a few poorly secured sticks holding up the earth above him. Something stirred beside him and he was quick to turn around, placing a calm hand on the cheek of his soulmate who’s eyes snapped open at the touch, panic evident in his sleep deprived gaze.

“You didn’t tell me you were having those dreams again.” Logan murmured kindly, laying on his side as he stroked Virgil’s cheeks. His husband puffed them out in something that resembled a pout, the leftover fear from his nightmare ruining the effect.

“I hate that you see them too. You don’t work in the mines, you shouldn’t have to live them.” One of the upsides- or downsides depending on how you looked at it- of having a soulmate was dream sharing. Whether it was of your most pleasant memories to your most gruesome thoughts, dreams were shared and projected regardless of proximity so that one would always have their soulmate close in a sense. This meant, however, that Virgil’s increased anxiety over being caught in a cave-in with no way of getting back to Logan was easily shared with him no matter how hard he tried to hide it, which infuriated Virgil but made Logan increasingly concerned about being able to leave the town for something better before something actually did happen. 

And now they were here, their chests still heaving from the unused adrenaline and looking at each other as if either one of them had the answers they so desperately wanted. 

“Do you require space to calm down? I can scrounge up some tea.” Logan wasn’t sure if they actually had any in the house but if they didn’t he’d think of something. Comforting Virgil after dreams like this was always his first priority. 

“You experienced the same thing as I did just now. You’re allowed to ask for comfort for yourself.” Virgil gave him a stern look, the effect somewhat ruined by the soft smile still playing on his lips.

“I know but-”

“Logan.” Virgil sighed and reached for his shoulder, flipping them around and somehow managing not to tangle the blankets as he went. “Just come and lay with me.”

Logan had to admit he liked this solution much better, tucking himself snugly under Virgil’s chin and feeling his strong arms wrap around him in the way that always made him feel safe and secure no matter the circumstance. Smiling he snuggled in further and wrapped his own arms around Virgil, trapping his hands in the warm pocket between his back and the sheets. Gradually they both relaxed completely, even as Logan's mind raced and a frown eventually carved its way onto his face. Hoping to hide it he buried his face against Virgil’s chest, earning a kiss to the top of his head for his efforts even if a moment later he was being booped in the same spot by something that he couldn’t quite place in his half asleep jumble of thoughts.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Virgil murmured, prompting Logan to look up and roll his eyes at the stuffed shark not two inches from his nose. Penny the Shark was something they had used back before they figured out how to voice their thoughts as something silly to talk to that didn’t put as much pressure on either of them when it came to speaking about messier things- something Virgil had nervously brought up as a possibility and Logan had immediately agreed to. They hardly needed it now, this far into their relationship, but sometimes it was a nice  reminder that there wasn’t any pressure to know how to voice what was bothering you or even know what was wrong in the first place. Plus, Logan mused, it was an extremely adorable sight seeing a half asleep but blushing Virgil hide his face with a bright purple and cartoonishly blushing stuffed shark.

“I’m just thinking of the job I applied for. If I can get it we can start saving up and finally leave. There’d be no reason for you to risk your life in the mines and I could actually help support us instead of you having to do everything.”

Virgil laughed. “And what job would I have if I left the mines?”

“You’re good at whittling.” Logan said immediately. “You can paint- and barring all that you’ve worked heavy labor jobs most of your life, I doubt you’d have trouble finding someone who would hire you for that alone when you’re ready to work again.”

Virgil hummed thoughtfully, bopping the shark up and down and making Logan wrinkle his nose where it kept booping the tip. Loathe to move his chin and ruining his view of the man underneath him he instead freed an arm from its confines and stole the shark away, turning it against his former attacking and viciously tapping his nose with the soft toy. Giggling Virgil ducked beneath it and squeezed him just a bit tighter, bringing him up enough to steal a chaste kiss from the other man, earning a small squeak for his efforts. He grinned as Logan buried his face back into his shirt, grumbling obscenities while cuddling the shark into their sides. Cupping the back of Logan’s head, Virgil gently twirled the hairs around his fingers and hummed softly, staring at the dark ceiling until his eyes began to droop.

“We’ll figure it out, Lo.” He mumbled sleepily. “We’ll have a house with a big porch and an actual yard and neither of us will dream of anything except the kids from your future classroom and the garden we plan on growing in the spring. It’ll just be us with no anxiety or obligations past being happy in our own little bubble.”

He thought he heard Logan make a noise of agreement but he couldn’t be sure, drifting off even as the words left his lips. He had hope things would get better, he always did, with Logan especially he couldn’t imagine a future he wasn’t happy in.

-----

“You’ve been working on that one all day, what is it?”

Virgil looked up from the block wood he had been whittling down to a curve for the better part of the afternoon, finally having gotten the angle right and most of the details etched out. It was a bit crude for his liking and his knives definitely needed sharpening at some point but it wasn’t one he was planning on selling so it was more the thought than the final product that mattered anyway. Holding it up so Logan could see he smiled sheepishly. “It’s Penny. Thought it’d be nice to have something to remember her by.”

Penny the shark had been one of the casualties from their old home, having been burned down in the process of them moving out of it. They were both incredibly grateful that Logan had gotten the job teaching at the nearby university and they had transferred most of their things to the new house before the casualty but as silly as it was the loss still stung, and Logan smiled as he sat down next to his soulmate on their new porch. He hid a grin behind his drink as he watched Virgil’s tongue stick out in concentration, carving out a couple of fins along the bottom of the curve. He knew if he mentioned it Virgil would blush and be flustered and as fun as that was to see he really just wanted to watch him happily creating in his own little world. 

It was such a far cry from how things used to be and Logan appreciated how far they were able to come from something he had never been sre they could work themselves out of. But now they were here, with Virgil safe and happy selling creative wares and Logan finally able to teach after years of study and searching for a position. Sitting back he closed his eyes and drank in the peaceful air around them, content to be met with darkness since he was already living his dream with the man he loved. 

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[faithofgods]

we know that magic exists in your world, but can you tell us more about the magic system? also, do magical creatures exist?

Magic in Epos is primarily a tool! It’s something that most possess in some amount (aside from exceedingly rare cases like Cían), though the ability to wield it effectively to any extent (like Khiita or the MC) is outside the realm of possibility for most people.

It’s a tool in that it assists: summoning magelight, creating warmth or fire, these are basic tasks that are easy enough for even unskilled mages to do. Anything more advanced, like drawing moisture from the air to form water into its liquid state, requires a stronger natural talent or countless hours of study and practice. Magic is no easy feat in this world!

There are two distinctions of magic: innate and acquired. Innate magic is that which comes from the natural world, either from the land or the spirits that inhabit it, while acquired magic is that which comes from a person’s own will. Within these two distinctions fall several trees:

Healing. Things like soothing wounds or pain fall under this, but also blood magic, which is a lost art that manipulates a user’s own blood to either help or hinder. Strong mages, whether through natural means or not, can manipulate the blood in another person. Protection magic, whether through carved sigils or actual spells, would be another branch of healing.

Elemental. Anything regarding the four elements (fire, water, wind, and life) would fall under elemental. A branch of this would be enchantment/binding magic or summoning magic.

Animation. This tree has a comparatively narrow use in that it relates directly to anything used to power inanimate objects. An offshoot of this tree is control or compulsion of living beings.

Sensory. Used for the detection of things like glamours, traps, or even compulsions. Another branch within this tree is what is known as negation, which is an incredibly rare skill set that enables one to completely block another’s magic use and at times can act similar to compulsory magic in that it can stop a person from moving or thinking entirely.

Typically, a person’s abilities only extend to one tree of magic, so most pick a branch to specialize in. Elemental is by far the most popular as it possesses a wide versatility, while healing is a dying art, as it is the most difficult to learn.

Magic use has a lot of drawbacks, the primary one being that it exhausts the user both mentally and physically, and puts an incredible amount of strain on the body: magic tends to weaken one’s immune system and can agitate things like open wounds, which can cause them to continue bleeding or even get corrupted by that magic (similar to how a spirit attempting possession would corrupt its host).

There are ways to avoid these drawbacks, and the most common one is done by utilizing previously stored magic reserves so as to avoid exhausting one’s self, and this is done by connecting with and drawing magic from something that has been enchanted. It’s an effective way to get past the body’s natural limits, but it comes at the cost of destroying whatever was enchanted!

Enchanted items have their own drawbacks beyond being destroyed: the shelf life for magic stored is typically very short if using acquired magic and done by someone unskilled, and the effectiveness of such magic fades the longer it’s left unused.

As for magical creatures, there aren’t any traditional types. Most magical beings come in the form of fae or spirits, rather than being physical + tangible. Some examples of fae would be sumena (protective beings that guard the land) or surella (a form of fae akin to demons).

Spirits, meanwhile, have many different forms and versions, though they all fall under the general classification of spirit. A notable example of a form of spirit would be gen, which is a shape-shifting being that likes to take on the faces of those it follows.

Related to all this, dragons do exist, but only in imagery and only in Kison.

[hrtiu]

Do No Harm

Written for the 2020 @starwarssecretsanta, this is for @part-timewizard. Featuring Kix and some good ‘ol Blyla, I hope you like it! I think it might be my favorite thing I’ve ever written, so thank you for the inspiration! It’s also pretty long so you might want to read it on AO3. Happy holidays!!!

TW for some medical gore, non-graphic, star wars-y violence, canonical character death, and a vague mention of suicide

It’s not as sad as it sounds, I promise!

32 Years After the Battle of Yavin

The ordnance was supposed to be deactivated, but they’d all known that equipment this old was bound to be unstable. Salvaging the cargo was a calculated risk, and one that should have been mitigated by Kix’s experience with GAR resources. Unfortunately for the crew of the Meson Martinet, Kix was a medic, not a demolitions expert.

“We’ve got a hull breach in the cargo bay!” Reeg said, his large yellow eyes whipping back and forth as he looked from one monitor to the next.

“Kriff!” Quiggold said. “Well at least the goods can’t blow the rest of the ship up if they’ve been sucked out into space.”

“We should get to the escape pods!” Reeg said.

“No.”

Captain Ithano’s monosyllabic response was enough to completely shut down that line of thinking for the whole crew. Everyone, Kix included, looked to their sanguine leader for a long, silent moment. Then Sidon turned from them and took up his position in the pilot’s seat, his mask betraying no concern for their imminent demise.

“Well, you heard the captain!” Quiggold said. “Batten down the hatches! Lash anything that can move down!”

Kix jumped to attention, his soldiers’ instincts kicking in. He’d only been on the Martinet for six months, but he’d picked up his duties quickly and it didn’t take any additional prompting for him to rush to the engine room to secure maintenance tools and parts.

Kix tried not to think too hard about how impossible a landing Sidon was about to attempt. The Martinet’s captain had a knack for getting out of impossible situations, and as a crew they’d already decided to put their fates in his hands. There was nothing for it now except to prepare and hope.

“Everyone get in your seats!” Quiggold yelled from the cockpit. “Brace for impact!”

Kix sprinted for his seat in the common area, strapping in and holding his harness with two hands. They hadn’t yet entered atmosphere as far as he could tell—now it was just a waiting game.

Reveth clicked in next to him, her eyes wide but her jaw set.

“You ready to die, Kix?” she asked, her words full of bravado but her eyes betraying fear.

Kix gave her a humorless smile. “Already did it once. What’s there to be afraid of?”

The ship jolted as they passed through the upper atmosphere of a nearby planet—Felucia, if he remembered correctly. Their breached hull had compromised the ship’s insulation, leaving them at the mercy of the burning heat of atmospheric entry.

Sweat dripped down Kix’s neck and his grip on his safety harness tightened. A thrill of fear raced down his spine, and a feeling so unfamiliar to Kix that he almost didn’t recognize it accompanied it: he felt alive.

Kix let out a harsh bark of laughter and Reveth shot him a wary look. “You alright there?” she shouted over the roar of their rapid descent.

“Yeah!” he shouted back. And he was. Ironic that now that his life was in real danger of ending, he’d finally started to care if it continued.

The searing heat gradually ebbed and the ship ground with effort as Sidon attempted to wrestle it into a controlled descent. Kix greeted the twins of powerlessness and mortal danger like old friends, his mind calling back to dicey drops and aggressive assaults of decades past. This was something he understood.

“Getting closer!” Quiggold yelled from the cockpit.

Reveth’s breathing grew loud and labored, and Kix looked over at her, his instincts to assist and comfort overriding the sense of emptiness that had accompanied him since his awakening.

“It’ll be alright!” he said, loud enough for her to hear but somehow still imbuing his voice with the practiced compassion of a medic.

Her frightened eyes latched onto his, seeking solace in his peace. This is right, a voice from his past whispered. This is what you were meant to do. The voice was his own, from when he knew who he was and what he stood for.

BOOM!

The Meson Martinet made impact.

---

19 Years Before the Battle of Yavin

Bly dropped his head back behind the seat of the Separatist shuttle, letting it clunk hard against the durasteel wall. The distance between them and Maridun grew in proportion to Bly's sense of security. He closed his eyes, going through the steps General Secura had taught him for cooling down after battle. His breathing slowed, his racing mind calmed, and gradually the adrenaline of fighting for his life left him. His body was utterly spent, and now he could finally afford to let himself feel it. They were safe.

“Are you feeling better now, Master?” Commander Tano asked General Skywalker, the two of them seated next to each other across the shuttle from Bly.

“Yeah, not 100%, but close.” 

Commander Tano let out a sigh of relief. “Don’t scare me like that.”

General Skywalker chuckled. “Whatever you say, Snips.”

The young Padawan’s concern for her Master was palpable, and Bly couldn’t help but remember her and General Secura’s conversation from earlier.

As a Jedi, it is your duty to do what is best for the group.

Bly couldn’t agree with that sentiment more. It was their job as clones, too. It was why he couldn’t afford to stop to memorialize Cameron, Lucky, or Flash. It was why he didn’t have time to mourn the loss of almost the entirety of the 327th. It was why he was prepared to lay down his life anywhere, at any moment, for the cause. General Secura understood that. It was one of the things he respected most about her.

His wandering mind recalled his feet pounding the earth, running away from the Separatist weapon as fast as his body could manage. Then he was flying through the air, a slender, strong arm wrapped around his waist. His heart was in his chest, but he knew he’d make it. He had absolute confidence in his General.

The shuttle docked on General Skywalker’s flagship, jolting Bly from his meditations.

“There’re rooms for you and Commander Bly in the officer’s quarters,” General Skywalker told General Secura, and she nodded her thanks.

They disembarked, and Bly followed General Secura to the rooms Skywalker had indicated.

“Are you alright, General?” he asked. She didn’t look injured, but things had been pretty rough-and-tumble on Meridun. And if she was hurt General Secura was likely to ignore it as long as possible.

“I’m fine,” she said shortly. “Let’s debrief before rest and recuperation.”

“Yes sir.”

He walked behind her through the halls of the Venator, blaster held at ready despite their relative safety and his aching arms. General Secura marched ahead of him and he could sense her mood. He doubted anyone else would be able to tell, but there was a weight to her step and a tension in her shoulders that spoke plainly to her anger and frustration. Bly’s grip on his blaster tightened. It took a lot to shake General Secura.

General Secura reached her room and punched the control panel with more force than necessary to open the door. Bly stepped in after her, wary of what was to come.

“Take a seat,” she said, gesturing across from her as she pulled a chair out from behind a large desk at the back of the room.

Bly obliged, setting his blaster down first and slowly sitting down. He waited for General Secura to start the meeting with her typical no-nonsense efficiency, but instead she set her elbows on the table and rested her forehead in her palms, her eyes closed and her shoulders tense.

Well, he supposed he could get the ball rolling. “Meteor Company is on leave in Coruscant. We can work with them until our fleet is rebuilt.”

“Rebuilt with what?” she said, her voice muffled by her hands.

“Pardon?”

“I said, rebuilt with what?” General Secura said with more force, moving her hands away. Bly nearly flinched when he realized there were tears in her eyes.

“The shipyards are already at work on new Venators, and there are the next generation of trainees from Kamino-”

“Rebuilt with men,” General Secura said forcefully. “Nearly the entire battalion was wiped out. A battalion made up of men. Men who were my responsibility.”

Bly floundered for a moment, unused to seeing his General so conflicted. She was his anchor in the madness of the war. What would he do if she was unmoored?

“They were my brothers, and this loss is… difficult to bear,” Bly said, feeling strangely disjointed. 

He was gutted by the death of the clones in his battalion, but at the same time he felt an odd sense of disconnect. Maybe it was some anti-social characteristic inherited from Jango Fett, maybe it was genetic engineering courtesy of the Kaminoans, but either way he didn’t feel the sorrow residing in his heart in the way he intuitively knew he should.

“My apologies, Commander Bly,” General Secura said. “I’ve been so focused on myself when this must be so much harder for you.”

Bly shook his head. “No, I mean… They were my brothers, so I know they understood their sacrifice. Myself and every other clone in the GAR is prepared to sacrifice ourselves for the Republic. It’s like you said, it’s our duty to do what’s best for the group.” 

“That’s what I told Padawan Tano, and I believe it. But there’s a difference between not allowing personal attachment to cloud your judgment, and just standing back while tens of thousands of men die.”

“We did all we could-”

“But it wasn’t enough!” General Secura said, rising from her seat and slamming her fist on the table.

Bly fell silent, thinking there was no response he could give that would help. General Secura stared at him for a long moment as her frame shook with anger and frustration. Gradually, the rage melted and gave way to a deep, abiding sorrow. She sat back down again, her customary grace and stillness returning to her.

“Bly, I swear to you today that so long as it does not endanger civilian lives, I will do whatever I can to protect you and your men,” General Secura said.

“Ma’am, that’s not neces-”

“Yes it is! Each and every man who died in Quell mattered to me. You matter to me. It’s one thing to stop missing my Master too much. It’s another thing entirely to casually dismiss the deaths of my men. If that’s what it means to be unattached, then it’s not worth it to me.”

Her declaration shocked Bly into silence. Nothing was more important to General Secura than the Order, and he couldn’t imagine her turning her back on one of its precepts.

“General,” he ventured cautiously, “You’re distraught, and that’s understandable. But perhaps that’s not the best frame of mind in which to decide to leave the Order.”

“I’m not leaving the Order,” she said firmly. “I’m only recognizing that, as a Jedi, I have multiple ideals that, should they come into conflict, I need to prioritize. And my promise to you—my promise to myself—is that I will always prioritize compassion over detachment.”

Bly’s throat tightened. It wasn’t often a clone was told that he mattered, and for that sentiment to be coming from someone as beautiful, as kind, as gracious as General Secura? Even Jango Fett’s cold heart couldn’t help but be moved by something like that.

“I’m honored, General,” he choked out.

General Secura’s features softened and she rose from her chair, walking around the table to put a hand on Bly’s shoulder.

“I need someone I can trust, Bly,” she said. “I need someone to guide me and push back if I’m not thinking clearly or if my decisions are rash. I need someone to help ensure that this never happens again.”

“I can be whatever you ask of me, General,” Bly said staunchly.

“Please. Call me Aayla,” she said. “What I need is a friend.”

---

“Execute Order 66.”

General Skywalker and Commander Tano stood in front of Kix, their backs to him. Next to him, Rex, Fives, Jesse, and Tup slowly raised their blasters, expressions grim but determined.

“No! Wait!” Kix called out to them. “It’s a trick! Don’t shoot!”

But it was too late. All four of his brothers opened fire, catching their superiors—their friends—completely off guard. Skywalker and Tano both dropped in an instant.

“No!”

Then, to his horror, Kix’s hands raised his own blaster. As he watched on, eyes wide and mind unwilling, his fingers squeezed the trigger three, four, five times, sending burning blaster bolts into their prone bodies. 

“No!”

Kix thrashed in protest, and pain exploded from his legs and chest. He opened his eyes, frantic, but he didn’t see General Skywalker or Captain Rex or anyone else he’d just imagined. Dreaming, he’d only been dreaming.

Kix’s hazy mind still had no idea what was going on and he knew his body was in bad shape, but so long as the nightmare wasn’t real, that was alright with him.

“He can’t come in here, he’ll endanger my other patients.”

“Lady, he’s easily the most injured person here. Who the kriff is he a danger to?”

Voices sounded above and around Kix, noise buzzing in and out of his fuzzy head. He tried to sit up and a firm hand pushed him down.

“Just relax, friend. Don’t move too much,” came Reveth’s voice.

“That thing was made for violence, and I won’t serve him,” the voice said. It was female, but Kix didn’t recognize it. That wasn’t really unusual. He didn’t recognize most of the world he’d awoken to several months earlier.

“That thing is my crewmember,” came Captain Ithano’s raspy voice in harsh rebuke.

“Are you a doctor or not? I thought you weren’t allowed to refuse to help someone in need,” Quiggold added.

Kix’s blurry vision slowly cleared and the sight of blue skies, thick vines, and glowing fungi greeted him. The ordnance, the explosion, the crash—it all came back to him. They’d made it to Felucia, at least mostly in one piece.

Ugh. Thought I’d never have to see this blasted planet again.

“Fine. Bring him in. But as soon as he’s well enough to stand, he’s out of here,” the unidentified woman said.

Kix craned his head up, catching a clouded glimpse of a middle-aged woman with a stern look and odd, blue-ish hair.

“Suit yourself lady,” Quiggold said, and suddenly Kix was moving again.

---

It was past 0300 and the lights of the Venator had been switched to the flickering dim of the night cycle hours ago, but requisitions flimsiwork didn’t care how little sleep Bly had been getting lately. He signed off on a request for more medical personnel—there never seemed to be enough—and set his datapad down for a good stretch. He was closing in on the end and sleep was in sight, but there were still a few things left to do. There always were.

Bly’s office consisted of a small alcove open to the main hallway just off the bridge, and though he would have appreciated some privacy he understood that space was at a premium on a military vessel. The only person onboard who got a private office (or a private cabin, for that matter) was Aayla, her office connecting to Bly’s through a small door at the back. The layout made Bly feel like a glorified secretary at times, but he accepted it since it made it easier to get ahold of the General.

Bly checked what was next on his to-do list. Oh yes, order more munitions for the AT-TE division. Bly braced himself, then settled in for another round of tedium.

“Ahh!”

A loud gasp sounded from behind Bly, and he whirled around in his chair. It was coming from Aayla’s study. Without a second thought Bly jumped from his seat and sprinted through the door separating him from his General.

“General! What’s wrong!”

Aayla looked up from her desk, a hunk of mysterious food hanging from her mouth and a look of surprise on her face. Whatever was going on, she was definitely not in danger.

“Bly! I’m sorry, I was just reacting to this broadcast.”

“What broadcast? Is someone under attack?”

“No…” Aayla said, her lekku flushing a deep blue.

It was then that Bly decided to pause and actually listen to the broadcast.

“But how could Gorges be the murderer? He wasn’t even at the depot when Mr. Waxillium died!”

“He may not have held the blaster, but he set events in motion to cause the death of his supposed good friend, Mr. Waxillium. Didn’t you, Gorges? You were the one who told Mr. Waxillium to go to the depot that night, weren’t you? You were the one who gave Jasna the blaster, weren’t you?”

“You can’t prove a thing!”

Bly’s brow furrowed, the audio from Aayla’s transceiver only confusing him more. “What… what is this?”

“It’s a transceiver drama,” Aayla said with a sheepish smile. “It’s my guilty pleasure, I’m afraid.”

Bly pursed his lips, unsure how he was supposed to respond. It was difficult to imagine Aayla having any guilty pleasures, and he had no idea what a “transceiver drama” was supposed to be.

Aayla’s smile wilted the longer Bly went without responding. “You… don’t know what I’m talking about, do you?”

“I’m afraid not, sir.”

She grimaced. “It’s Aayla, especially when we’re not talking business.”

Bly coughed. “I’m afraid not, Aayla.” 

It was still so hard to call her Aayla. He’d managed to start thinking of her as Aayla in his head, but actually saying the words aloud? As if they were friends? As if they were in any way on equal footing? It was a struggle.

“Transceiver dramas are pieces of fiction that are broadcast over transceiver for entertainment. They’re just… fun stories to listen to,” Aayla said. “I don’t listen to them often, but I’m partial to the mysteries.”

“Oh, I see.”

“You never listened to any dramas? Or watched any holos?”

“Only for educational purposes, si-” Bly cut himself off with a curt shake of the head. “Aayla.”

“Well that just won’t do,” Aayla said, standing and pulling a chair from the corner of her study to rest next to hers. “Come, sit and listen with me.”

“I still have some requisitions-”

“Come on, Bly. Everyone needs to relax sometimes. It will help you work better tomorrow.”

Bly still hesitated for several heartbeats, though he knew he’d always end up doing what she asked. He sat carefully in the chair, as if it might eat him alive for slacking off, and slowly eased into the back cushion. Aayla watched him with an amused expression.

“You won’t know what’s going on in this one, but another starts up right after this. You’ll love it—there’s a detective who’s looking for the man who murdered his wife, and he’ll stop at nothing to find him…”

Aayla excitedly described the plot of the upcoming show, her eyes glowing with pleasure as she delved into the twists and turns of the detective’s search. Bly had never imagined that she had such a carefree side to her, never envisioned her indulging in melodramatic entertainment, but he was thrilled by the discovery. She looked so relaxed and at ease, and there was a simple happiness to her habitually world-weary demeanor that Bly desperately wanted to see more of.

The new show started and, despite the mess of names and plot points swirling around in his head, Bly soon found himself sucked into the story. He gasped when Aayla gasped and added to her theorizing when a new clue was discovered. It was fun, an emotion that Bly barely recognized.

Aayla gave him a piece of whatever she was eating and Bly inspected it carefully, discovering after some study that it was dried meat.

“Try it,” Aayla said.

Bly gave the hunk of meat an experimental chew. His tongue was met with an intensity of savory flavor that he’d never imagined could exist, and his eyes widened. “That’s good!”

Aayla chuckled. “A lot better than what they serve in the mess, I’d wager.”

“Definitely.” Bly paused to chew the meat, not expecting it to be so tough. Then a thought occurred to him. “Wait a second, I thought Jedi were vegetarians.”

Aayla looked at him blankly then burst out laughing. “Certainly not! Take Master Yoda, for example. His species is carnivorous. If he was vegetarian he’d starve.”

“Oh…” Bly said, heat rising to his cheeks. “Well I… how was I supposed to-?”

“Shh! We’re missing the next clue!” Aayla said, still trying to hold back her laughter.

Bly slouched into his seat with an undignified pout, and Aayla leaned over and patted him on the arm. The motion should have felt patronizing, but By couldn’t bring himself to resent anything that resulted in her touch.

The drama continued, ending the episode on a cliffhanger with the detective about to be captured by the Hutt crimelord. Advertising played and Bly sighed, bracing himself to get up and finish the requisitions forms.

“...There’s another episode after this one, if you’re interested,” Aayla said with forced indifference.

He really shouldn’t. He was constantly running short on sleep—he needed to finish his work and hit the bunk as soon as possible. He opened his mouth to say as much, then noticed the hopeful tilt of Aayla’s brow. 

“Sure, I could stay for one more,” he said.

What was a few more hours of lost sleep?

---

Kix came to in an aged hospital bed, both legs in splints and his chest aching from what could only be broken ribs. For half a moment his eyes sought Coric, or Rex, or someone else who could tell him what was going on. Then he remembered.

Kix sighed and closed his eyes, letting his head fall back onto his pillow. Maybe it didn’t really matter that much where he was or how he’d gotten there.

Reveth stirred at Kix’s bedside, her eyes widening as she noticed Kix.

“You’re up!” she said, sounding almost cheery.

“Yeah,” Kix said, struggling to sit up without hurting his ribs. 

Reveth jumped to her feet and lent Kix a hand, stacking a few pillows behind his back so he wasn’t staring at the ceiling. They were at the far end of a long room and he was lying in one of several beds partially cordoned off by screens and curtains. The familiar sight of medical equipment provided Kix with a sense of comfort, though the equipment was old and the furnishings dingy.

“How long have I been out for?” Kix asked.

“Just a day. The doctor says you’ll be all better pretty soon.”

“Any other injuries?”

“Us in the common area got it the worst. I had a concussion and a broken wrist,” she said, raising up the bandaged appendage. “Everyone in the cockpit was fine.”

“And the Martinet?”

Reveth grimaced. “She’ll fly again, eventually. Progress is slow because there aren’t any major starports nearby. Kriff, we’re lucky this clinic is even here. I think the doctor is one of those do-gooders who goes to the ass-end of nowhere to serve the needy.”

“Hmm…” Kix said, recalling the way the doctor had at first refused to treat him. She hadn’t seemed particularly charitable then. “How angry is the captain?”

“Ehhh…” Reveth hedged.

“Am I dead? Or just kicked off the ship?” Kix asked. Sidon Ithano was a fair captain, but even he couldn’t just look the other way when a crewmate led them to treasure that ended up tearing apart their ship.

Reveth waved a hand. “The captain seems tough but he’s softer than you’d think.”

“Somehow I doubt that.” 

“Don’t get me wrong, I’d avoid him for a few days if you don’t want another broken limb. But he’ll get over it.”

Kix tried to sit up taller but his ribs protested. He fell back into his pillows with a grunt. “Thanks for the advice.”

“It helps that Reeg thinks he can salvage the explosives from the other cargo bay. Only by the grace of the Force did they not blow up in the crash.”

Kix raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t that dangerous?”

Reveth shrugged. “Probably. He said he can extract the titanoid from the charges without setting them off if he soaks everything in moletan first. Still sounds risky to me, but it’s his leather hide.”

Kix nodded thoughtfully. The deconstructed charges wouldn’t be quite as valuable as they would have been whole, but much safer to transport. And that amount of titanoid should make their excursion profitable enough that Sidon probably wouldn’t decide that Kix had to pay for their losses.

“Oh yeah, and your box of stuff was in cargo bay two as well,” Reveth said, reaching for a crate under her chair and kicking it over to Kix.

Kix leaned over the side of his bed with a wince, confirming for himself that the crate really was the one he’d recovered from the crumbling Republic medical center a few days earlier. It was this modest collection of possessions that had brought Kix to back to the old base; the explosives had just been a monetary justification for the trip. The entire crew of the Marinet had understood that, which was why Kix’s concern for Sidon Ithano’s ire was real. They’d risked carrying dangerous explosives onboard just because Kix had wanted to recover a tiny box of worthless personal effects.

Reveth grabbed the crate and set it on Kix’s lap.

“Thanks.”

“So what’s in there?” Reveth asked, leaning forward to see. “What was worth all the trouble?”

“Not much, really. Just a few odds and ends,” Kix said vaguely.

Reveth looked doubtfully at him but didn’t press. 

Kix opened the box and pulled out the first item, a medal he’d been awarded in medical training on Kamino. Medals didn’t interest him much—he still remembered the swell of pride when it had first been awarded him, but now it seemed more like an empty method of placation. He dug further, rummaging around his Phase I helmet, a field medicine guide for venomous creatures and poisonous plants, a musty pair of gloves. He finally found the old pauldron he was looking for,the faded blue painted over with designs of starfighters and explosions—the result of an energetic, easily-distracted mind.

He held the pauldron up to Reveth. “My friend painted this. He sacrificed himself for our company, crashing an enemy fighter into their ship to break a blockade.”

The gently mocking angle that always seemed to tilt Reveth’s mouth disappeared. “Sounds like he was a great man.”

Kix nodded, putting the pauldron carefully back in the crate. “He was.” 

He didn’t know exactly what he was going to do with all this stuff, but the idea of it left to turn to dust on some distant, abandoned base was unacceptable. Despite the crash and despite Captain Ithano’s anger, Kix was glad he’d gotten it back.

The door at the end of the room whooshed open, and the doctor Kix vaguely remembered from before walked in.

“Hey doc! He’s up!” Reveth called.

The woman walked across the room and fully opened the screen that marked Kix’s territory, her nose scrunched up like she smelled something foul. Now that Kix got a better look at her, he realized she was a Twi’lek hybrid. Stubby lekku extended from the back of her head down to her shoulders, barely visible through a shock of thick, blue hair. Her skin was a distinctly human hue of tan.

“He’s conscious? Good,” the woman said, looking Kix up and down. Her eyes narrowed disapprovingly at the crate that still rested on his lap, and without comment she picked it up and pushed it under his bed. “How are your ribs?”

“Broken,” Kix said.

The woman nodded. “They’ll hurt for a while. Some nysillin will help, but time is the best healer.”

Kix groaned his agreement. The splints on his leg looked good and the room, though out-of-date and spartan, was well-maintained. Whoever this woman was, as a man of medicine Kix could respect her.

“Well, try to get some sleep,” the woman said, making some notes on her datapad. “You’ve got a punctured lung, a few broken ribs, and two broken legs, but considering the state of that ship of yours, you’re in pretty good shape. I’ll be using some bacta on those legs and you should be able to get around fairly easily in a day or two.”

Kix closed his eyes again, performing a mental self-examination to confirm her diagnosis. It all checked out.

He opened his eyes again. “I’m Kix. Who are you?”

The woman pursed her lips like she didn’t want to tell him. He remembered what he’d heard when they were bringing him in. That thing is made for violence.

“You can call me Dr. Bosc,” she said eventually. “Pleased to meet you.”

---

“Bly! I need you to get over to that ridge and bring down those turrets!” Aayla shouted over the din of blaster fire and mortars.

“On it!” Bly shouted back, motioning for two ARC troopers and two heavy infantry to follow him and sprinting out from behind cover. 

Bly. Bly. Bly. She never called him Commander anymore. Everything would be so much easier if she would.

His team made short work of the turrets, moving with the grace and efficiency Bly drilled into them day in and day out. It was that skill that would hopefully keep them alive.

Until the day Aayla had broken down after Maridun, Bly had just assumed he’d end up dead before the war was over and hadn’t thought too much about it. Now he thought differently. He wanted to live and he wanted desperately to ensure that every man under his command lived too, no matter how impossible that sounded. It was harder to live this way—harder to maintain hope every day only to have it dashed by the devastation of each casualty his battalion suffered—but Bly could live with the pain. Anything was better than the empty detachment of resignation.

Other things had been different, too. Now that he’d convinced himself he’d live beyond the end of the war, he’d started thinking about his life after. And that was dangerous, dangerous thinking for a clone like him.

“Get down!” Quark yelled.

Bly barely had time to throw himself to the dirt before a hail of blaster fire tore through the air. He crawled through the gravelly earth to the base of the turret they’d just destroyed, using the low platform on which it rested for cover. His team stayed pressed to the ground for several minutes while Bly looked for an opening, but it was no good. A whole company of battle droids had followed them up the ridge, blocking their way out.

“General Secura,” he said into his comm, “We’re pinned down on the ridge. Requesting backup.”

“On my way,” came her snappy response.

I didn’t mean you had to come personally, Bly thought. She surely had more important places to be on the battlefield. He knew she had more important places to be—he could hear that from the comms. 

“Sir! They’re flanking us!” Broadside yelled, and sure enough, a squad of clankers was coming up the other side of the ridge, boxing them in against the steep dropoff beyond the turret.

“Damn,” Bly said. “Alright, we’ve gotta go over the edge. Clankers are worse at covering terrain.”

“Sir?” Broadside said, alarm evident in his voice. “We’ll be totally exposed!”

“I know, but this is our only chance. I’ll try to provide covering fire as long as I can.”

“Sir-”

“That’s an order, soldier!”

Broadside saluted sharply, then pulled his WESTAR M5 from its harness around his back and handed it to Bly. He and his fellow ARC trooper attached their grappling hooks to the base of the turret, lashed themselves to one infantryman each, and started a rapid, precarious descent down the steep face of the ridge. 

Bly grabbed the M5 and switched it to burst mode, then unleashed a spray of blaster bolts on the advancing droids, trying his best to draw fire away from the exposed troopers. After a minute or two of concentrated fire, he chanced a look down to check on their progress. Three troopers were dashing back to the safety of the rest of the battalion, while a fourth lay broken at the bottom of the ridge.

“Karking hell,” Bly hissed. He’d lost another one.

A blaster shot singed a glancing blow off the top of his helmet, and Bly put a halt to his self-recriminations. One of the ARC troopers had helpfully left his grappling hook attached, so Bly grabbed it with two gloved hands and barrelled headfirst down the steep incline. He let his momentum carry him, his feet finding their next hold by instinct and sheer luck, and in less than a minute he was at the bottom. His hands tangled in the wire of the grappling hook, and in the split second it took to free himself, a high-powered blaster bolt nailed him right in the ribs, cutting straight through his plastoid armor.

Bly was on the dirt, face up, waiting for death, when a pair of arms grabbed him under the elbows and dragged him away.

“You’re not dying today, sir!”

The chaos of battle sounded around him, but Bly had very little sense of what was going on. Then the unmistakable whirr of a lightsaber cutting through air and metal filled his ears, and he started to believe that he might make it out alive.

The trooper dragged him into a somewhat sheltered alcove, and suddenly Aayla was by his side.

“What happened, Bly?” she demanded, her elegant features hovering tense and fierce across his field of vision.

“Clanker nailed me,” he managed to get out. “Forgot to duck.”

She narrowed her eyes at his attempt at humor, then sliced the chestplate right off him with several expertly-placed cuts of her lightsaber. She let out a sharp hiss at the sight of the wound, and Bly couldn’t bring himself to tilt his chin downwards to look.

The sound of fighting grew near again, but Aayla didn’t seem to notice. She knelt over him and carefully placed both hands just around the searing pain emanating from his ribs and closed her eyes, her breath coming in deeply through her nose. Nothing happened.

For several long moments all Bly could hear was the not-so-distant crackle of blaster fire and the slow, even breaths of his General. 

“They’re closing in on our position, sir,” a clone voice called out, and Aayla cursed under her breath.

The hands on Bly’s torso pressed down with slightly more force and Aayla gritted her teeth. He could practically feel the force of her will urging his body to knit together, but nothing happened.

“Why oh why can I never heal when I need to?” she muttered, her accent growing thick with frustration.

The sound of blaster fire drew closer, and the shuffle of nervous clone feet reached Bly’s ears. Expending nearly all of his remaining energy, he forced a hand up to grab Aayla’s wrist.

“Aayla. You told me to tell you when you’re being rash.”

The harshness of her expression held for a moment, then melted into resignation. She looked up to some trooper outside of Bly’s field of vision.

“Broadside, I want a medevac for Commander Bly right now.”

“Yes sir!”

She placed a hand on either side of Bly’s face and pressed her forehead to his, her breath warm and comforting against his face. “Don’t die on me, Bly.”

He muttered something about promising and that he’d be fine, but his vision was already starting to blur. More friendly arms lifted him up and onto a stretcher of some kind, and suddenly he was moving again.

All he could see was the sky above him, fixed and immovable as terrain warped and shifted in his peripherals. His thoughts were muddled and confused, but they always seemed to end up returning to the same fact: he was in love with Aayla Secura.

---

It took four days for Kix to be able to put weight on his legs again. 

“It would have been faster if I could spare more bacta,” Dr. Bosc said as she helped him out of bed. “But my resources are limited.”

Having watched her clinic operate the past four days, Kix had to agree. Dr. Bosc was the only medical professional for miles, and she was regularly inundated with patients seeking treatment for a variety of maladies ranging from eye infections to traumatic brain injuries. Kix imagined the unpredictability was also difficult to manage—some days were slower and other days she was entirely overwhelmed.

“I understand, doctor,” Kix said, gripping Dr. Bosc’s forearms firmly to steady himself.

Dr. Bosc gave him a curt nod, then stepped backwards, urging him to test his newly-mended legs. Kix took a tentative step forward, his leg shaking slightly under his weight but ultimately holding firm.

“Looking good there, Kix!” Quiggold called from his seat in the corner, and Kix thanked him with a small smile.

At least one member of the crew had come to visit Kix every day, which he appreciated. It still wasn’t close to approaching the feeling of having his brothers at his back, but Kix was beginning to feel a genuine camaraderie with his crewmates. It was one of the only things about his new life that gave him any measure of comfort.

Dr. Bosc led Kix in several wobbly loops around the clinic, past a Felcuian laid up with a high fever, a Human with a broken leg, and a Weequay woman suffering from dementia. The clinic had really filled up in the past day or two, and Kix had to give it up for the doctor for juggling all her patients with no help.

They passed by Dr. Bosc’s desk, where stacks of paperwork and prescription orders towered, some teetering precariously close to the edge. The only other thing on the desk was an odd sort of T-shaped wooden totem with a chain of connected wooden ornaments dangling off each end.

“Now that I’m mobile I could lend a hand with your clinic, doctor,” Kix said.

Dr. Bosc shot him a contemptuous look out of the corner of her eye. “No, thank you.”

“I’m a medic. I have training. And it looks like you could use the help,” he said, looking pointedly at the desk.

“No,” she said, leaving Kix to balance on his own for a moment to straighten out the stacks most in danger of falling. When she was finished she picked up the totem and placed it in the neatest corner of the desk, careful to keep it safe distance from the edge.

She returned to Kix, and he pursed his lips but said no more. If any of these patients died because their doctor was too stubborn to accept help… 

They finished their final loop around the room and Dr. Bosc helped Kix back onto the bed. Kix started to get settled back into his pillows, but Dr. Bosc disappeared into a storage closet and returned with a set of crutches.

“Good job,” she said, handing the crutches over. “You’re discharged.”

Kix held the crutches and blinked up at her in surprise. Surely she wasn’t serious.

“He can barely walk, doc. He can stay another day, can’t he?” Quiggold asked.

“Does this look like a daycare center to you?” Dr. Bosc said, gesturing to her other patients. “I said he could stay until he could walk. He can walk now, so he’s no longer welcome here.”

Quiggold got to his feet. “What is your problem, lady? If you have a problem with Kix, you have a problem with all of us.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Dr. Bosc said, her golden-brown eyes flashing in anger.

“It’s ok, Quiggold,” Kix said. Then he turned to the doctor, curious to understand the mystery that had been eating at him since his arrival here. “My friends know what I am because I told them. How do you know what I am?”

Dr. Bosc glared. “Because you look exactly like my father.”

Kix froze, his brain short circuiting. Father. Father. You look exactly like my father.

“What?” said Quiggold.

Kix’s fingers tightened around his crutches, his knuckles turning white. “Your father was a clone soldier?”

“Yes,” Dr. Bosc spat. “So I have firsthand knowledge of the violence and deception hard-coded into your DNA.”

Deception? Violence Kix could understand, but deception?

“Well hey there, that’s uncalled for-” Quiggold started.

“It’s alright,” Kix said, struggling to his feet. “I’ll see myself out.”

Kix hobbled to the exit as fast as his busted limbs would let him. If this woman really was the child of a clone, then she probably had some justifiable grievances. Her father was likely a very limited part of her life, and perhaps he’d been more than simply negligent. But that did not mean that Kix was about to sit here and listen while this woman disparaged millions of his dead brothers.

Quiggold followed after him, lending him a hand once they were out of the clinic and guiding him through the musty town to where the Meson Martinet had landed. 

“What was that all about?” he asked. “Is she really the child of a clone?”

“I don’t know,” Kix said shortly. “It’d be a strange thing to lie about.”

“I guess that makes you her uncle.”

Kix leveled a flat look at Quiggold, and he raised his hands in self defense. 

“Hey, just an observation!”

Kix entered the cracked-open shell of the Martinet’s living quarters, stubbornly ignoring the ache in his leg though his medical expertise told him he couldn’t afford to.

“Just hand me an arc wrench so we can fix this ship and get off this miserable planet.”

---

“Get back!” Aayla yelled as the blast doors to the control room burst open.

Bly reflexively ducked for cover, knowing better than to hesitate when it came to his General’s orders. 

They’d been pushing to take out the Separatist base for days now, and they’d finally reached the control tower where intelligence told them the Separatist general would be. The nearness of their goal only reinforced the need for caution in Bly’s minds—those who led from the back often fortified their positions with the toughest security.

Bly used his viewfinder to sneak a peak over the duracrete barrier he’d claimed for cover, his alarm spiking as he realized why Aayla had warned her men away.

Aayla was locked in heated battle with the bald, malicious Sith assassin, Ventress. The dark Force user was wielding her twin sabers to great effect, and though Aayla was a famed duelist, her skills were clearly being put to the test.

“Hold your ground,” Bly repeated over the comm to his troops. He understood that they all had the same instinct he did to rush to the General’s defense, but Aayla had given Bly very specific instructions should this exact situation arise.

“If I meet another Force user in battle, I want you and the men to steer clear, you understand? Those abilities are above your pay grade and my opponent will not be above using you as sentient shields to get to me.”

Bly understood this in theory—had agreed with her, even—but putting it into practice now was a different matter.

Bly had seen Aayla spar thousands of times, frequently against other Jedi. She was undoubtedly more technically skilled than Ventress. But as Bly kept watch over the duel through his viewfinder, it became clear that Ventress had a ferocity—a raw, hateful power—that the General lacked. 

Back pressed against the duracrete, Bly’s fists clenched as he watched the duel progress. He fought the instincts that screamed at him to intervene, to assist, to defend—over all of those urges was the ultimate tenet of obedience.

The duel had moved its way down the hallway and away from the blast doors, and Aayla was now backed up against a wall of transparisteel with nowhere to go. There was a fatigue in her shoulders that Bly knew well, and she didn’t hold firm against Ventress like someone who knew they were going to win. Something snapped in Bly’s mind, and a decision was made.

“Everyone else, continue to hold your ground until I or the General say otherwise,” he said into his comm.

A chorus of “Yessirs,” followed him, and he leapt over the barrier and sprinted towards the duelists. When he was still a good 30 meters away, he pulled out his rifle and aimed carefully. All he needed to do was distract the assassin for a brief moment, enough to give Aayla an opening.

The shrill whine of blaster fire tore through the air as Bly opened fire, squeezing off five shots in rapid succession at Ventress’s back. 

Ventress whirled around, dodging and deflecting with sinuous grace. None of Bly’s shots struck true, but that hadn’t been the point. He’d wanted to get her attention, and he’d succeeded.

Behind Ventress, Aayla noticed her opening and lunged, but Ventress was already gone. She was sprinting full-tilt towards Bly, a sneer on her lips and murder in her eyes. Bly kept shooting at her, using his knowledge of Aayla’s movement patterns to predict where the assassin would dodge. One of his bolts singed her arm, but that only enraged her even more.

In an instant she was on him, his blaster tossed to the side and her hand around his throat. Bly resisted the urge to close his eyes, memories of what had happened to Colt passing through his mind. At least it would be quick.

“You dare to attack me?” Ventress hissed, her voice low and smoky.

Her fingers tightened around Bly’s windpipe, squeezing the air from his lungs. Bly summoned up the last of his breath to respond to her.

“Always.”

Ventress’s sneer turned vicious, and her fingers tightened further, completely starving him of oxygen and summoning black spots to his vision.

“Get away from him!”

The fingers around Bly’s throat disappeared and his body crumpled to the ground. Bly’s hazy world tilted sideways, and through his distorted vision Aayla pounced on Ventress with the ferocity of a gundark.

She slashed downward onto Ventress’s head and Ventress lunged sideways to avoid the strike. Then Aayla swung her blade around for a second strike, faster than lightning, this time aimed at Ventress’s midsection. The Sith assassin jerked backwards, but only far enough to avoid a killing blow. The tip of Aayla’s saber dragged a searing slash across Ventress’s torso, and she howled in pain and fury.

Aayla pressed her advantage, moving in on Ventress, but Ventress simply leapt away, switching off her lightsabers and disappearing out a nearby window.

Relief flooded Bly’s cloudy head, and he closed his eyes, letting himself relax. His blessed rest was interrupted when a hand grabbed his arm and pulled him to his feet.

“Bly? Bly, can you hear me?” 

Bly opened his eyes, the beautiful sight of a healthy and whole Aayla Secura greeting him. “Yes, sir.”

“Good. Then get back to the med tent ASAP.”

“Sir, I can fight-”

“Now, Bly.”

Aayla directed a trooper to help Bly to a medic, and several hours later found Bly waiting in his blacks, still foggy and dazed, in the corner of the med tent along with the rest of the non-critically injured. 

The comms told Bly that their operation was over, and not long afterwards Aayla herself marched into the tent, looking tired and angry. She scanned the room, finding Bly quickly and coming to fetch him.

“Debrief in my office. Now,” she said

The harshness of her tone cleared Bly’s cloudy mind, and he jumped to attention, following after her like he always did. They entered the tent that served as Aayla’s office in the field, and as soon as the flap closed behind them, she rounded on him.

“I was very explicit about what to do if I engage an enemy Force user, was I not?”

“You were,” Bly conceded.

“And yet my orders were not heeded.”

“All due respect, sir, I followed your orders until it looked like following them might get you killed.”

“It was a direct order, Bly.”

Anger bubbled up in Bly’s chest, a foreign feeling to him, especially when it came to Aayla. “I made a judgment call! You told me you needed not just a Commander, but a friend. If we’re going to be equals in any way, you need to trust my judgment.”

Aayla took a step towards him, her whole body tilting forward like she was still on the battlefield. “Well I don’t trust your judgment when it puts you in mortal danger!”

“I’m a soldier, Aayla! It’s my job to be in mortal danger!” he said, his voice rasping as his vocal cords reminded him of the abuse they’d been put through today.

Aayla stopped herself from saying more, though she was practically vibrating with anger. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, the tactic successfully calming her after several breaths.

Bly eyed her warily, though when she opened her eyes again there was a calm resignation there that assured him their friendship would survive. There was something else in her bearing, though, that gave him pause. Not hostility or anger, but something charged and weighty. It made Bly nervous.

She took another step towards him and lifted her hand to his chest, her fingers not quite touching though Bly could swear he felt the impact. She raised her hand further and pressed her fingers tenderly into the skin of Bly’s neck, and any remaining frustration from their argument was instantly erased.

“Are you alright?”

He swallowed, and he knew she could feel the muscles in his throat constricting under her fingers. “I’ll live.”

“You’d better. Hold still.”

Aayla closed her eyes and hummed in concentration, her entire body calming and entering a state of perfect stillness. The air buzzed with energy, but  the flowing, peaceful energy of the ocean rather than the frenetic energy of lightning. Bly had never felt so complete.

Her hands remained on his neck, and under her touch his skin warmed, then the ache gradually lifted, the tenderness melting away. 

Bly expected her to step away, but she stayed close, her hand sliding down his neck and landing on his shoulder, one thumb resting along his collarbone.

“I know you’re a soldier, and I know that means you’ll always be in harm’s way,” she said. “But if you died to protect me? If you died because of me? It would kill me, Bly.”

This couldn’t be real. Aayla was so much more than Bly was. She was more powerful, more beautiful, more important. How could he matter so much to her? Bly stared hard at her and shook his head, willing thoughts of kissing her, of loving her, out of his unworthy brain.

“That’s… silly,” he said lamely, not knowing what else to say.

“Why would that be silly?” Aayla asked, her beautiful hazel eyes going wide with confusion. She was still so close to him he could see the subtle shift in color of her irises. He’d never been close enough to anyone besides his brothers to see that before.

Her body leaned further and further into his as he floundered for an answer, his training on Kamino providing absolutely no insight. “I don’t matter that much,” he said eventually. “I’m just… Bly.”

She smiled, the motion crinkling the cerulean skin around her eyes. “Exactly.”

Her nose brushed his, but she didn’t move any further. She just stayed there, breathing the same air as him, teasing, taunting. For several tense, protracted moments Bly resisted. This was definitely not the kind of relationship he was supposed to have with a superior officer. This wasn’t the kind of relationship he was supposed to have with anyone.

Then Bly looked down into Aayla’s eyes again, and the love and affection there overwhelmed him. His brothers loved him, but this was a different kind of love—it was warm and fierce, possessive and generous, selfish and selfless all at the same time. She was so close to him, and she wanted him. Who was he to deny her?

Bly surged forward, catching Aayla’s lips in his. She gasped a little, as if she hadn’t actually believed he would kiss her, but she recovered quickly. She held his face in her hands, her thumbs stroking across the golden tattoos on his cheeks, and her careful, tender kiss made him feel like the only thing that mattered in the galaxy.

It was Bly’s first kiss and he had no idea what he was doing, but he thanked Jango for whatever instincts kept him from making an utter fool of himself. He sensed some uncertainty from Aayla, too, though she was better at hiding it. He decided not to worry too much and to just do what felt good and natural, so he slid his hands down to her waist and pulled her flush against him.

She sighed, the action heaving her chest against his, and he tightened his hold. Aayla slid her hands into his hair and deepened their kiss, her mouth moving against him with greater purpose and intensity.

Even though she was brave and strong and could kill him in a second if she wanted, she felt small and vulnerable in his arms. He wanted to envelope her completely, to protect her and love her and be her place of rest. He wanted to do some other things to her, too, that felt less pure but still mutually desirable.

One of Bly’s hands crept up her waist, his thumb hesitating at the bottom of her ribs, and the other moved to cup the back of her head under her lekku. She moaned and the sinful sound demanded retaliatory action. Bly took several steps forward, backing her into her desk, and he pressed himself against her hard. Her fingers tightened in his hair and her mouth opened, her tongue meeting his.

“General Secura! ARC trooper Broadside here with a status report!” a voice called from just outside the tent.

Bly and Aayla shot away from each other like two identically polarized magnets.

“Come in,” Aayla called, fussily sitting herself behind her desk and trying to distract from the azure blush to her cheeks.

Broadside came in and saluted sharply. “Sir! No more Separatist forces found in the area. Casualties are high and our medical resources insufficient to treat them. Requesting backups from the 361st.”

A slight frown crinkled her beautiful brow. “Of course. Stitches should have requested it even if I’m not there—there’s no need to wait.”

“We’re not allowed to request medical aid without your permission, sir. Stitches was looking for you for a while but couldn’t find you.”

Aayla’s flush deepened and she looked down at her desk, shuffling a few pieces of flimsi around pointlessly. “Well he has my permission now. Dismissed.”

Broadside left the tent and Bly stood awkwardly in the corner while Aayla rested her elbow on her desk, all signs of the happy, eager woman of a few minutes ago gone. Bly knew what she was going to say before she even said it. Hell, he even had to agree with her.

Aayla’s eyes flicked up towards Bly. “This was a mistake. I’m sorry.”

---

The first person to show up to the Martinet looking for Kix had a broken toe.

“I went to see Doc Bosc, but she told me Mrs. Xelaut is having a baby today and to come back tomorrow. It really hurts and I don’t want to wait that long!” the young Tholothian boy said, balancing precariously on his good foot just outside the Martinet’s main port.

Kix showed the kid mercy, letting him inside and finding him a chair. It had been two weeks since their crash landing and the crew was still in full-on rebuild mode, working long hours and getting creative with their supplies to put things back together with limited resources.

“I dunno, kid. I think the good doctor might not like it if I start treating her patients,” Kix said, his hands on his hips.

The boy’s face fell. “I’m not going to stop seeing her. I just need someone to wrap up my foot, and she’s busy right now!”

Kix studied the boy’s hopeful face, trying to weigh out exactly how much trouble he’d cause by lending a hand. Then his eyes fell to the foot the boy kept hovering a few inches off the ground so as not to jostle it. His shoe was off and his big toe was swollen black and blue. Kix’s jaw set. He was a medic, and it was his responsibility to treat the injured, no matter what anyone else said.

“Alright then,” he said, helping the boy to his feet. “Ship’s got a small medbay. I can get a biocast for you and get you some meds that will take the edge off a bit.”

The boy whooped and Kix couldn’t help but smile as he provided a steady arm for the boy to balance with while hopping through the ship. A half hour later and the boy walked out of the ship with a pair of makeshift crutches, a tiny biocast for his toe, and a smile on his face.

Word spread quickly of Kix’s services, and soon locals who couldn’t find a spot at Dr. Bosc’s clinic were showing up to see Kix at the Meson Martinet on a regular basis. Quiggold grumbled and Captain Ithano silently disapproved at first, but they changed their tune once grateful patients and their families started making an extra effort to get them the supplies they needed to fix the ship. 

At first it was only one or two people a day, and sometimes nobody at all. Dr. Bosc was an excellent physician, after all, and most of the time she could see her patients as soon as they needed. But then a nasty bout of the flu made its way around town, and soon there were five, ten, fifteen people coming round the ship a day.

Leveraging all of his scrappy field medicine skills, Kix jury-rigged together a tent with some cots and set up a clinic outside the ship. Captain Ithano’s patience was limited, and Kix figured the more he could keep patients from getting underfoot during the repairs, the longer the Captain’s good graces would last.

The flu was a particularly nasty strain, but thankfully as the ship’s doctor Kix had insisted that the whole crew get vaccinated for a wide variety of ailments several months ago, so none of them fell ill. The rest of the town was not so lucky, and soon it seemed every family had been affected one way or another.

By day four of the outbreak, Kix was more tired than he’d been since waking from cryo-sleep. He was constantly inserting IV’s, taking temperatures, changing sheets, getting bedding, and preparing bacta capsules. He was so busy that it took him awhile to realize something strange: he was happy.

Each discharged local felt like a personal victory. The relief writ clear on his patients’ faces when he told them he could help filled, at least partially, the hole inside of Kix that his brothers had left behind. He was in his element, using his skills and expertise to assist those in need.

That newly-discovered happiness deflated when he saw Dr. Bosc marching up to his tent clinic with narrowed eyes and balled-up fists. 

“I need to speak with you immediately,” she demanded as soon as she was within hearing distance.

“Certainly,” Kix said, first making sure his patient was comfortable, then leading Dr. Bosc away from the tent where she wouldn’t cause a scene.

“How can I help you, doctor?” Kix asked once they were a reasonable distance away.

“You know exactly why I’m here,” she accused, her tan features taking on a reddish hue.

Now that Kix knew her father was a clone, he could see the resemblance. The lekku were obviously not part of her father’s legacy, but her light brown eyes, thick, dark hair, and the way her mouth set in a wide, flat line all reminded him fiercely of his brothers. 

“I’m afraid you’ll have to be specific, doctor. I can’t imagine why anyone would be angry at a medic providing medical treatment.”

Dr. Bosc’s eyebrows rose, as if to question the audacity of his statement. Kix had to admit that raising her ire was somewhat satisfying.

“You are stealing my patients. What kind of a person takes advantage of sick people for profit?”

“I don’t charge my patients anything beyond the cost of materials. They are getting my time for free,” Kix said as calmly as he could manage.

“But money isn’t the only problem! These are patients who I’ve developed a rapport with! Patients whose medical histories I know! They’re happy you’re helping them now, but what happens in a month or two, when you’re not here anymore? Did you even think about that?”

“Yes, I did think of that, which is why I offered to help you over a week ago. But you said no. Then what was I supposed to do when people who couldn’t find a spot in your clinic showed up asking me for help? Turn them away? I swore an oath to heal the wounded and restore the weary, and I will not break it just to sooth your wounded ego!”

Dr. Bosc recoiled like he’d physically attacked her. She opened and closed her mouth soundlessly, her expression shifting between rage, guilt, and confusion.

“Maybe when you’ve figured out what you’re actually upset about we can talk,” Kix said.

He turned on his heel and walked away, trying his best to just leave it at that. He didn’t know what this woman’s father had done to her, but it didn’t justify the way she was treating him. It didn’t justify her judgment of all of the clones.

“Wait!” Dr. Bosc called from behind him, but Kix just kept walking.

She caught up to him and blocked his path, arms spread wide. “Just wait a second, ok? I’m sorry.”

Kix raised his eyebrows at her. “Is that so?”

“Yes, you were right. I haven’t been fair to you.”

“Fine,” Kix said, moving to walk past her. “Apology accepted.”

“No, wait, please!” she said, grabbing him by the arm. “I really am sorry, and the truth is… I could really use your help.”

“Really?” Kix said flatly. “Now you want my help?”

Dr. Bosc took a deep breath, then exhaled, her posture relaxing and her expression contrite. “Look, I have a lot of problems with my father, but that’s not your fault, and I apologize for letting it affect the way I treat you. I have resources you could use. Set up your tent outside my clinic, and together both our lives will be easier.”

Kix narrowed his eyes at her, attempting to gauge her sincerity. And even if she was sincere, would they be able to work together peacefully?

“Alright. I’ll move everything tonight,” he said.

He’d treated patients in the middle of open warfare. How hard could it be to get along with one middle-aged doctor?

---

Bly was back to calling her General.

He knew it hurt her feelings, but if he was supposed to forget the way she tasted , the way her body felt pressed up against his, then there was no way he could continue to call her Aayla.

They left the GAR headquarters on Coruscant together late one night, the details of their strategy meeting still buzzing around in Bly’s head. The war wasn’t going well. The GAR had seen some decisive victories recently, but it wasn’t enough, and there was no sign of hostilities ending any time soon.

“I’m shipping out tomorrow, but you should report to the Coruscant Guard in the morning. I agreed to lend you to Commander Stone to help oversee the training of a company of new arrivals from Kamino,” General Secura said as they approached the speeder that would take her back to the Jedi Temple.

Bly stopped in his tracks. “More training, General?”

General Secura turned her head back to Bly, her eyebrow raised. “Is there a problem?”

Bly’s jaw clicked. “No, sir.”

“Good.”

She opened the door to the speeder and slid inside. This was the part where Bly stood on the landing pad and watched while General Secura flew away, then turned back to the GAR headquarters and went to sleep in his tiny bunk in his tiny quarters. This was the part where he obediently listened to orders and did what he was told.

Bly slid into the back of the speeder after General Secura, shutting the door behind him and signalling the driver to depart. The driver shot General Secura a questioning look, and she first looked doubtfully at Bly, then nodded to the driver.

“Got something to say, Commander?” she said.

“You’ve got to put me back on the front lines, sir. It’s where I belong.”

“You’re just as much use to me here, Bly.”

“That’s not true and you know it. Please don’t do this out of some misguided attempt to protect me. This is what I want. This is what I was meant to do.”

A pained expression crossed General Secura’s face. “Don’t say that.”

“It’s true, and there’s no shame in it. I’m a soldier. I’m good at it. I enjoy it. Let me be what I am.”

“You are an amazing soldier, Bly, and I’ll bring you on this next campaign if that’s what you want. But are you sure… Are you sure you’ll never want anything else?”

The question gave Bly pause. “...I’ve never really thought about it.”

“I think that sometimes we have different purposes at different times in our lives. Maybe now you were meant to be a soldier, but some time in the future you can be something else. Maybe now I am meant to be a Jedi, but some time in the future…”

Bly stared at Aayla like she’d grown an extra head. Was she suggesting she might someday leave the Order?

Aayla shook her head and she rubbed at her temples.  “Don’t listen to me, I’m just feeling… out of sorts.”

Bly had noticed. Before their strategy session the General had come from a meeting at the Jedi Temple, and he’d seen the tension in her shoulders and the distant look in her eyes. 

“Is… something wrong at the Temple?” he asked tentatively.

General Secura looked sideways at him, her gaze hard and measuring for a moment before she relented. “Not wrong, exactly. I was just coming from the tribunal for Ahsoka Tano.”

“Oh.” Bly had heard about that. The young Jedi he’d first met at Quell had been accused of planting bombs at the Jedi Temple. It seemed unlikely to him, but you never knew. People could surprise you. “What was the result?”

“She was ejected from the Order.”

Bly remained silent. He’d known men who’d died in that blast.

“She wasn’t ejected because we found her guilty. She was ejected in order to stand trial in a GAR court. She hasn’t been found guilty yet,” General Secura clarified.

“I’m sorry. She seemed like a really good kid.”

General Secura sighed. “I don’t know if she did it. Maybe we’ll never know. But if one thing is clear it’s that something isn’t quite right within the Order. And I worry for Ahsoka and the other young Jedi. I worry what they’ll face in the years to come.”

The idea of the Jedi Order being less than perfect was entirely foreign to Bly. The Order was beyond reproach, it was the source of leadership for the entire GAR, the font of their moral authority. That General Secura would confide in him her doubts was both incredibly unsettling and a sign of immense trust.

“Well… You are a part of the Order. So I know it must be good,” he said, his eyes flitting shyly up to meet hers.

She smiled a soft, sad smile and rested her hand atop his on the leather seat between them. “Thank you, Bly. And thank you for… understanding.”

She didn’t elaborate, but Bly knew what she meant. He felt the same way. Thank you for loving me. Thank you for understanding the things that are important to me. Thank you for understanding why we can’t be together. Thank you for understanding me.

“Of course, Aayla.”

---

Dr. Bosc and Kix got used to working together surprisingly quickly. They were both medical professionals used to setting aside the minor problems to focus on the life-threatening ones, and cooperation was an absolute necessity due to the severity of the flu season.

At first Dr. Bosc was constantly checking over Kix’s work, grilling his patients about his bedside manner and double-checking that he’d given the right medication at the right time. It grated on Kix’s patience, but there was no place for ego on the battlefield, and he refused to let his irritation with her harm any of the people coming to the clinic for help.

Kix also felt the urge to be on his best behavior to prove Dr. Bosc wrong about clones. It rankled him that he cared what she thought, but he couldn’t get himself to let it go. It wasn’t fair to have to serve as an ambassador for all of his kind, but then again he was the last living clone. He was quite literally the only representation of who they were left in the galaxy.

Over time Kix’s consistent competence combined with the sheer amount of work to get done meant that Dr. Bosc stopped hovering and gave him more and more freedom to treat his patients as he saw fit. His grudging respect for her grew as well, as he witnessed her medical knowledge and the kindness and compassion she showed to everyone who stepped through her doors. Everyone but him, of course.

After another week of taking temperatures, replacing fluids, and administering medicine, the flu outbreak finally abated and the deluge of patients slowed to a trickle. Kix packed up the tent and temporary cots, but he kept on helping Dr. Bosc at the clinic. Work on the Martinet was progressing slowly, and Kix felt more useful assisting at the clinic than guessing at the right wrench to hand Reveth on the ship.

“Kix, can you get the maternity med unit ready for me?” Dr. Bosc asked one morning not long after the wave of flu patients had ebbed. 

Kix looked up from the sterilizer he was using to clean their bio-injectors. “Another one?”

Two women had already delivered at the clinic since Kix had arrived—both Felucians. Kix had been busy with the fever patients at the time so he hadn’t assisted with delivery, but he’d seen the women walk out of the clinic the next day with their tiny, rotund babies.

Dr. Bosc shrugged. “Felucians have a cyclical mating season. And seasonal mating-”

“-means seasonal birthing.”

“Exactly. And I’d appreciate it if you lent a hand on this one since we’re having a slower day.”

“Sure thing,” Kix said, finishing up with the sterilizer and going to get the maternity med unit out of storage.

“I won’t need help with anything too complicated.” Dr. Bosc said when Kix returned. “All you’ll need to do is-”

“Actually I’ve delivered a baby before. She wasn’t Felucian, but my understanding is the process is pretty similar.”

Dr. Bosc’s eyebrows rose. “Really? I didn’t realize you were trained in that sort of thing.”

“We focused on field medicine, yes, but we got a rough overview on everything else, too.”

“And when did you run into a woman in labor on the battlefield?”

Kix gave her a secretive grin. “Oh, it’s a long story.”

Dr. Bosc frowned, but any further questioning was halted by the arrival of the expectant mother, her round eyes wide with fear and her hand clenched tightly against her very pregnant belly.

They got to work, ushering the woman to her bed and giving her painkillers while explaining how the long process would go. Kix had only just gotten her settled when a panicked voice shouted out from the entrance.

“Hey! I’ve got a badly injured kid here!”

Kix and the doctor whirled around and a disheveled man staggered in carrying a young boy in his arms. The boy’s leg had been mangled almost beyond recognition and was covered in blood, his face ashen white as he clutched tightly to the man’s shirt.

“Oh my goodness!” Dr. Bosc rushed over to him and directed him to the nearest bed while Kix ran to get some bacta and a tourniquet to stop the bleeding.

“We were out on the combine when his leg got stuck on one of the beams and…” the man who’d brought the boy in said, choking off into sobs.

Kix grimaced as he tied the tourniquet tight and examined the leg. Some white was visible through the red, and his skin was torn to shreds.

The Felucian mother shrieked from somewhere behind Kix, and he jumped. He’d forgotten her in the rush.

Dr. Bosc put a hand on his shoulder. “You handle the kid. I’ll come over to lend a hand whenever I can.”

“You sure?” Kix asked. She’d been fiercely protective of her most serious cases so far, feeling ultimately responsible as the founder of the clinic.

“Yeah. You’re much better at trauma than me.”

Kix nodded, then turned back to the kid. “Alright. Now we’re going to stop the bleeding, then see what we can do to save the leg. What’s your name, kid?”

The kid was shivering, his eyes wide and his skin clammy with shock. “K...K...Kin.”

“Well that’s almost like my name! I’m Kix,” he said as he set bacta patches on the pieces of skin that wouldn’t need sutures to heal. “You’ve been very brave so far, and I know you can do this, alright? We’ll get through it together.”

“O...Ok.”

By nightfall the boy was resting peacefully in his hospital bed, a bio-cast over the entire length of his leg and a stuffed convor tucked under his arm. A tiny Felucian baby slept in a bassinet in the corner while his mother rested on the med unit. Kix and Dr. Bosc checked one last time to make sure there was nothing more their patients needed, then they both retreated to the storage room and nearly collapsed onto the futon at the back of the room.

“Ugh, what a long day!” Dr. Bosc said, stretching her arms wide and cracking her neck.

“I thought things would get easier after flu season,” Kix said.

“That’s the life we signed up for. At least every day is different.”

Kix’s mouth quirked upwards into a weak smile, and he shrugged his shoulders. “Better than the battlefield.”

Dr. Bosc leaned back in the futon and eyed Kix appraisingly, her stubby lekku fitting just over the backrest. “You’re a good doctor, Kix. Kin would have lost his leg if not for you.”

Kix’s smile grew into a smirk. “I’m a medic, not a doctor.”

She waved a dismissive hand. “That kind of certification only matters on a planet like Coruscant. Out here the only thing that matters is your ability. And by that measure you more than qualify.”

Kix didn’t need her approval. He hadn’t even really wanted it. But there was still something pleasant about knowing that working with him had increased her respect for him. “Thanks, doc.”

Dr. Bosc twisted her hands together nervously, and Kix noticed for the first time the blue shade of the palms of her hands. “I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to trust you. But I do now. Thank you for helping me.”

Kix laughed and let his head fall back over the top of the backrest. “Well, what else was there to do?”

She chuckled softly, and Kix closed his eyes, a deep fatigue setting into his bones. During the war this was when he would have busted out the stims, but Dr. Bosc didn’t have many of those and he didn’t want to keep them from people who really needed them.

“How are you still alive?” Dr. Bosc asked, the curiosity strong in her voice.”You should be much older. You should be dead.”

“I was in cryo-sleep,” Kix said, stifling a yawn. “From right before the end of the war until a year ago. It’s… a long story.”

“For another night,” Dr. Bosc said, getting to her feet with a groan. “You can sleep here overnight if you want. On the futon.”

“You just want me to take care of the baby when she wakes up in an hour.”

“The thought had crossed my mind…”

Kix wanted to say no. He wanted to get up and walk down the hill to the Martinet and collapse into his tiny bunk. ...But it was so far away.

“...You get first shift,” he said.

“Deal.”

---

Tomorrow might be the last day of Bly’s life.

That was technically true every day, but the possibility felt especially distinct tonight.

Bly looked over the holo displaying the plans for their assault, the blue glow of the projection appearing so benign compared to what it all might mean for him and his men. Each of those dark blips on the holo represented a full company of battle droids, and each battle droid was more than capable of firing the shot that killed any one of his men. But the munitions factory the droids guarded was key to their victory, so tomorrow they’d launch their assault.

“Everyone clear on the plan?” General Windu asked.

Commander Fisk nodded smartly next to Bly. “Yes sir.”

Bly found himself distracted momentarily by his fellow commander, the man who had replaced Ponds. Fisk stood with one arm behind his back, just like Ponds always had, and Bly wondered how much a clone’s Jedi General influenced his personality. He wondered if Fisk felt like just a replacement to the ever-stoic General Windu.

“Bly?” General Secura asked.

“No questions, sir.”

“This is likely to be a long, difficult battle,” General Secura continued. “But our victory will protect the lives of millions of Republic civilians, and help our other GAR battalions, too.”

General Windu nodded his agreement. “We’ve got a tough day ahead of us tomorrow. Rest up. Dismissed!”

Fisk and General Windu left the bunker they used as a portable command center and Bly turned to follow them.

“Hold up a moment,” General Secura said from behind him.

“Sir?” 

She was standing behind the holo, the Jedi robes she rarely wore draped loosely around her shoulders to ward against the cold of the frigid planet. Her hands twisted tightly in front of her and she bit her lip. “Tomorrow… could be a bad day.”

She was as radiant as ever, her beautiful azure skin glowing luminescent through the lights of the holo, but there was something heavy and serious about her demeanor.

“Yeah. But… we’re prepared,” Bly said, trying to find some words of comfort.

“We’re as prepared as we can be, yes. But even so, many men won’t live to see tomorrow night.”

Bly set his jaw. “We’ll both do everything we can to save as many lives as possible. That’s what we do.”

Aayla stepped out from behind the holo, wrapping her arms around her midsection. “I know, and I’m not pessimistic. I believe in our men, and I believe in the Force. But there’s something I want to give you before tomorrow.”

“Give me?” Bly asked, confused. He wasn’t really in the habit of owning things.

“Yes. I was waiting for the right time, but considering the dangers, I don’t want to miss my opportunity waiting for the perfect moment.”

She took another step towards Bly, but he stayed put by the door, ready to escape if he needed to. It had never been easy holding back his feelings for Aayla, but lately it’d been getting harder. She’d been closer, more familiar, always aware of him in a way that thrilled and tortured him. But he had to stay strong, for both their sakes.

General Secura noticed his caution, a look of hurt briefly flitting past her face. She stopped with a healthy distance between them, and she forced her hands to her sides .

“As soon as the war is over, I’m going to leave the Jedi Order.”

Bly’s mouth fell open. “What?”

“I’ve been thinking it over for some time now, and I’ve made my decision. I can’t leave now, not with the Republic and the 327th depending on me, but once the war is over I will renounce my vows.”

“But… why?”

She pulled something from a pocket in her robes and stepped just close enough to reach out and hand him a small wooden cube. He turned the cube in his hand, its smooth surface interrupted by precisely carved designs. Three sides depicted a yellow rectangle, identical in design to the tattoos on his cheeks. The other three sides were painted with diagonal blue stripes.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“Among my people there is a tradition. We pass down a wooden totem from mother to daughter, and when a woman gets married she adds a piece to it representing herself and her partner. As a Jedi, I never expected to participate in this tradition, but now that I am leaving the Order…” 

Bly froze, his eyes still trained on the wooden block in his hand. The golden-yellow of his tattoos, the deep blue of her skin.

Aayla closed the distance between them, setting her hand on his and closing his fingers around the cube. “When I leave will you go with me? Will you be part of my family?”

The textured sides of the cubes felt sharp and distinct under his hyper-sensitive fingers. It was like watching his own life from above, from the side, from anywhere else. Because how could this be real? How could this be happening to someone like him?

When they had kissed before it had made a strange sort of sense. General Secura was under a tremendous amount of stress, and though she talked tough and didn’t let it affect her command, she’d always had a soft spot for her men. Under those conditions he could understand her momentarily forgetting herself and misplacing her emotions onto him.

But this? Taking the time to carefully consider and then choosing him?

“I don’t understand,” he said, the understatement of the century.

Her head tilted to the side and her eyes softened as she stepped even closer to him, resting a hand on his cheek. “Oh, Bly. Why should it be so hard to believe that I love you?”

He melted at her touch, all of his defenses instantly neutralized. He closed his eyes and turned his cheek into her palm, the hand that wasn’t holding the wooden cube coming up to rest on the back of her hand. Still, he could not speak.

“You’re the best man I’ve ever met, Bly,” she said, her voice now a whisper, “And I would be honored to spend the rest of my days with you.”

A decade of training on Kamino, thousands of meetings about discipline and regulations, even the very structure of his DNA weighed against him, holding him back, pulling him down. Then he opened his eyes and looked into her powerful, fierce, compassionate, beloved face, and he found the strength to speak.

“Yes!” He gasped. “Yes, I want that. I want you. Aayla Secura.”

He wrapped his arms around her and held on tight, a feeling of breathtaking, unbelievable joy taking hold. His cheek rested on her lekku, and her fingers anchored into the lines of his back. 

“When the war is over, we leave together,” Aayla said, nuzzling gently into his neck. “No matter what anyone says.”

“Together,” Bly agreed.

---

It took two months, some elbow grease, and a lot of creative use of scrap, but eventually repairs on the Meson Martinet were finished. 

Quiggold insisted on a going-away party, both to celebrate the Martinet’s repairs and to thank the locals who had generously lent a hand. Reveth and Captain Ithano were against it, but Reeg was excited for any excuse to drink and Kix thought it might be nice to spend one last evening with Dr. Bosc, so the three of them outvoted the rest.

A generous spread of grilled fungi, nysillim soup, and other local delicacies filled up the small counter space in the ship’s mess, and the crew crowded around the table with Dr. Bosc, several local scrappers, and a farmer Reeg had grown close to. It was the Martinet’s way of saying farewell to the town they’d called home for two months.

The conversation was friendly and the food comforting, and Kix found himself relaxing, his mind called back to similar camaraderie in the mess hall and simpler times.

“And then Reeg came home with a power converter he bought off a Jawa, and he was surprised it didn’t work!” Reveth said, crowing with laughter.

“That power converter did work. It’s not my fault you broke it!” Reeg protested.

“Back me up here, Kix,” Reveth said.

Kix leaned back and laughed, feeling light hearted for the first time in what felt like ages. “It was busted from the beginning and you know it, Reeg.”

“Don’t listen to him, the hole in his head has turned his brain to mush!” Reeg said, his eyes glowing the particularly vibrant yellow that always accompanied an Arcona who was well in his cups.

Kix gave Reeg a mostly playful shove. He didn’t mind some good-natured ribbing, but Reeg’s joke hit too close to topics Kix would rather leave alone.

“I noticed that incision, Kix. What happened there?” Dr. Bosc asked curiously between sips of wine.

Kix grimaced. He’d thought his hair had grown back enough to cover it up, but he supposed it was inevitable that a trained eye like Dr. Bosc would pick up on it.

“Just a minor procedure. Not a big deal,” Kix said, eyes trained on the wall across from him.

“Not a big deal?” scoffed Reeg. “I’d say removing a mind control chip in your brain is a pretty big deal!”

“What?” Dr. Bosc asked, alarmed.

“Really, Reeg. Cut it out,” Kix warned.

The table fell silent, and Kix looked down at his plate and unenthusiastically pushed his fungus steak around. Out of the corner of his eye Dr. Bosc kept shooting him worried looks, like he might break out into a violent rage at any moment. Great. And I was just finally getting her to trust me.

“Doc, there’s really nothing to worry about,” Reeg said, noticing Dr. Bosc’s disquiet. “Good ol' Palpatine had a finger in every clone’s brain, but Kix figured out how he was doing it and had the chip removed.”

“I don’t know what you’re-” Dr. Bosc started.

“Got them to do all sorts of things they wouldn’t have done otherwise. How else do you think the Republic got every clone to summarily execute the Jedi without so much as a hearing?”

Kix’s grip on his fork tightened, whitening his knuckles. He really did not want to talk about this. The clatter of metal on ceramic echoed around the mess, and Kix looked up. Dr. Bosc had dropped her fork, and she looked about two seconds from throwing up.

“Doc, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-” Reeg said.

“Would you shut up already? Haven’t you done enough?” Reveth hissed.

Dr. Bosc shot to her feet, face sickly pale and eyes wide, and fled from the table without so much as a goodbye. Kix stared after her for a long moment, completely at a loss as to what to do.

The rest of the table fell silent and Kix swallowed, turning back to his plate. He started to take another bite of his fungus steak, but a cough from Captain Ithano forced his gaze upwards. The Captain was lounging comfortably in his chair, but his arms were crossed and his masked head tilted sideways. He caught Kix’s eye and jerked his head towards the door. Kix got up and started out the door after the doctor. The Captain wasn’t the kind of person you said no to.

Outside the ship, Felucia’s legendary night sky painted the heavens. It was a little cold, and Kix rubbed at his arms as he followed Dr. Bosc to a small clearing not far from the ship. She stood in the middle of the clearing, looking up at the sky with an oddly blank expression on her face.

“Hey, Dr. Bosc, I can leave if you want, but I wanted to make sure you’re ok-”

“Is it true, what Reeg said?”

“Is what true?”

“That there was some sort of mind control involved in the execution of the Jedi Order?”

Kix shifted from one foot to the other, unconsciously scratching at the still-puffy scar above his ear. “Yeah. I was in cryo-sleep when it happened, but I found out about it beforehand. I wanted to warn the others, but the enemy learned I knew and captured me. As far as I can tell, none of my brothers had any ability to resist when the order came through.”

Dr. Bosc stayed turned away from Kix, her oval face tilted up at the full moon. Kix maintained a respectful distance between them, though the shimmering reflection of moonlight on Dr. Bosc’s cheeks suggested she might be in need of comfort.

“Do you know why I hated you at first?” Dr. Bosc asked eventually, her voice cracking slightly on the words.

What did she mean? Kix had thought it was because her father had treated her poorly. “I’m… not sure.”

“My mother was a Jedi General, and my father was her second-in-command. When they sent me to my uncle and aunt, they said that they loved me, that they loved each other. But only a few months later when the Republic accused the Jedi of treason, my father killed my mother. Shot her in the back without a second thought.”

Kix’s heart stopped, and he stared at Dr. Bosc as if seeing her for the first time. Her stubby lekku extended just beyond her blue, curly hair. The palms of her hands were tinged with color like she’d been writing with a leaky indigo pen. She was tall and elegant, her doctor’s hands moving with a warrior’s grace.

“I came here to Felucia because this is where it happened,” Dr. Bosc continued. “I don’t really know why. Maybe it was morbid curiosity, or maybe I just wanted to understand why it happened. But now, maybe I finally have an answer.”

“Your father didn’t willingly kill your mother. That I can promise you.”

“That’s what I’d like to think, hearing what Reeg said about the chip in your brain. But I don’t think I’ll ever really know. How can I know what he was thinking?”

“Is your first name Ayy?”

She froze. “How did you know that?”

“Wait here,” Kix said, then he rushed back to his bunk on the Martinet, locating the crate of personal effects he had stowed underneath it. He rummaged around, then found what he was looking for at the bottom of his crate.

He turned around only to find Dr. Bosc waiting in the doorway to the crew quarters. Kix walked over to her and handed her the object, placing it carefully in her hands. She opened her fingers slowly, revealing a small wooden cube with yellow rectangles on three sides and blue stripes on the other three sides.

“There’s something I should tell you,” Kix said.

---

Bly thanked the Force and whatever gods there were that he was there when Aayla collapsed.

“Ahhh!” she moaned on the hard durasteel floor of her office on the Venator, her hand grasping at her abdomen.

“What is it?” Bly asked, alarmed. Aayla was tough, and he’d seen her take blaster fire to the back without flinching.

“I’ve been having these pains all day, but I took some stims and painkillers and brushed it off. But now- Ahhh!” she cut off with a sharp cry.

“Aayla? Aayla??” Bly crouched down by her side, unable to get her to her feet. She clutched tightly to his arm.

“Find a medic, please,” she said between gasps.

Bly rushed out of the office, and blessedly one of the first men he saw walking the halls had the red medic cross on his arm.

“Medic! Yes, you there! I need assistance immediately!”

Judging by his blue painted armor, he was one of the medics on loan from the 501st for training. If anything that might be for the best—Bly preferred as few troopers as possible see their General in her weakened state.

“What’s your designation?” Bly asked as he punched in the code to get back into Aayla’s office.

“CT-6116. Kix, sir.”

The door whooshed open and Bly and Kix rushed to Aayla’s side. 

“What happened?” Kix asked.

“I don’t know…” Aayla said through gritted teeth. “My stomach… hurts.”

Kix pulled off his helmet and set it on the ground, a grim expression on his face. 

“Could be appendicitis. Let’s get her to the medbay-”

“No!” Aayla said. “No… Just… Find out what’s wrong first. Here.”

Bly shot Aayla a confused look, but she just shook her head. Not now.

“If you say so, sir. Commander, help me get her onto the couch.”

Together they lifted Aayla onto the couch in the corner of the office, and Kix stuffed a few pillows under her shoulders to keep her head elevated. Kix knelt by Aayla’s side and began asking her a series of rapid-fire questions and Aayla answered as best she could between gasps and moans of pain. Bly hovered uselessly overhead, shifting his weight anxiously from one foot to the other.

“Commander, would you go to the medbay and bring me a portable med unit?” Kix asked.

“Right away,” Bly said, understanding that Kix was probably just trying to get rid of him but wanting to be useful all the same.

When he came back with the med unit, the door to Aayla’s office was shut and locked. He knocked on it, and Kix opened it only long enough to pull the med unit inside. When Bly tried to walk in after him, Kix shook his head.

“It’ll be just me and the General here for a bit, Commander.”

“You can’t order me-”

“General’s orders, sir.”

The door shut in front of Bly’s face, and he blinked uncomprehendingly at it for a long moment before going to his desk and sitting down. The longest thirty minutes of Bly’s life passed and Kix opened the door and motioned for Bly to come in. Aayla lay in the med unit, hooked up to various sensors and drips, but looking much calmer and at peace.

“So do you know what’s wrong? Will she be alright?” Bly asked.

Kix nodded to Aayla. “She can probably answer that better than me, sir.”

Aayla opened her eyes and reached a hand out towards Bly. He shot a sideways glance at Kix, but took her hand in his.

“Bly,” Aayla said, her eyes full of a strange mixture of fear and delight. “I’m in labor.”

Bly’s brain stuttered to a halt. In labor? Aayla? Aayla kept talking in front of him, but he heard her words as if through water. Did this mean she was about to become a mother? Did this mean he was about to become a father?

“Bly! I need you to focus!” Aayla’s sharp voice cut through the haze.

“Yes sir!” Bly barked.

Aayla let out a weak chuckle and squeezed Bly’s hand. “I know this is strange, but we have to figure this out. We won’t have much time if we want her to have a good life.”

“Her?” Bly asked.

Aayla nodded towards the medic. “Kix says It’s a girl.”

“How have you been pregnant this whole time, and nobody ever noticed?” Bly asked.

“I suspected... But I was so busy, and it seemed impossible…” Aayla said.

“It helped that Twi’leks bear smaller children, and on top of that this one’s premature. It’s still pretty surprising that nobody realized, though. We can only hope that the child will be healthy,” Kix said.

The thought hadn’t even occurred to Bly that his child might be in danger, but as soon as the words left Kix’s mouth a fear he’d never before experienced took hold of his heart. How strange, that a being he hadn’t even known existed mere minutes earlier had such power over him already.

“I’m about to get to the hard part. I want you here with me,” Aayla said, her fingers tightening around Bly’s.

“Of course,” Bly said, kneeling by her side.

“The silver lining of such a premature birth is that labor will probably be relatively easy,” Kix said, moving down to Aayla’s feet and helping her get into position. “That being said, a lot can go wrong, and the General has requested that we bring no other medics in unless absolutely necessary. Be ready for anything.”

Bly held Aayla’s hand and offered her encouraging words while the 501st medic coached her through her pushes. He felt powerless to offer any real assistance, but Aayla seemed to take comfort in his presence, so he tried not to let his feelings of inadequacy show. Aayla was beautiful and fierce, her warrior spirit showing through in spite of the sweat and blood and roars of effort.

When the child finally came, Kix wiped the mess of childbirth off and handed her to Aayla, her tiny pale form shaking from the shock of her grand entrance into a new world.

She was gorgeous. She had wispy, blueish hair and tiny lekku nubs on the back of her head, and her delicate hands faded in color from a pale tan to a greyish blue. She cried and cried, but to Bly they were the miraculous sounds of a brand new body working, and he’d never heard something so melodious in his life.

“She’s so small…” Aayla whispered. “And pale.”

“She’s quite a bit smaller than the average Twi’lek newborn, but her vitals are good,” Kix said. “And newborns are always born looking pretty pale. She’ll get her color soon enough.”

Aayla held the little girl out to Bly, and he took her delicately in his hands, handling her like a live grenade about to explode. Her tiny face scrunched up and her cloudy grey eyes blinked open and closed as she turned her meandering gaze on the room, her eyes never quite focusing on anything. Bly held a finger out to her, and her tiny digits wrapped around his index finger, her grip surprisingly strong. Bly’s heart rose to his throat, and he didn’t know what to say.

“She’s perfect,” he choked out eventually, handing her back to Aayla.

Tears were coursing down Aayla’s cheeks. “She is,” Aayla said. And for five perfect minutes, they simply basked in that fact.

The little girl’s crying stopped, and she blindly snuggled into Aayla’s chest. Aayla looked up at Bly, the tears of joy in her eyes turning cold and full of regret. “And now we have to find a way to keep her safe.”

“She doesn’t seem to be in any immediate danger, but this ship doesn’t really have the facilities to care for a premature newborn,” Kix said.

“And if anyone finds out where she came from, I’d be decommissioned, you’d be kicked from the Order, and who knows what would happen to her,” Bly said.

“I have family on Hosnian Prime who will take her in,” Aayla said, arms cradling her child even as they talked about sending her away. “I can issue the order to Kix now, give him whatever authorization he needs. I’ll send them word and ask that they watch over her until the war is over.”

“Until the war is over…” Bly repeated. He’d only just met this child, but he might not see her again until the end of this seemingly endless war.

Aayla hugged the child to her tightly, and she started to cry a tiny, mewling cry. 

“We don’t have any other choice,” Aayla said.

“I know,” Bly said, resting his hand on Aayla’s shoulder. “But… we should enjoy what little time we have with her now. What should we name her?”

Aayla held the little girl out in front of her, careful to support her neck, and looked into her adorable, slightly-smooshed face. “How about Ayy? It means star.”

Bly smiled. “I love it.”

They had thirty minutes with her. That was all. Then they handed her to Kix, who’d made a makeshift bassinet for her that he could use to transport her without drawing too many questions. Kix left them in Aayla’s study, and Bly held Aayla as she lay crying in her med unit until she fell asleep.

He knew it was for the best, but it felt wrong on a deep, visceral level to be sending their child out there into the universe without anything to help guide her way. If Bly had held any reservations about leaving the GAR after the end of the war before, those reservations vanished with the birth of his child. Anything that kept him from being in his daughter’s life was not worth the sacrifice.

An idea occurred to Bly and he jumped up from the med unit, kissing Aayla on the forehead and murmuring to her that he’d be right back before leaving the office. He jogged down the halls of the Venator to the shuttle bay, where he knew Kix would be headed with the baby to catch the first available flight off the ship. Hopefully Bly would be able to catch him in time.

Kix was already halfway up the gangplank to the shuttle when Bly found him.

“Hey, Kix! Wait up!”

Kix looked back, his hands still carrying the piece of cargo that looked like a simple crate but actually held Bly’s newborn child.

“Yes sir?” he asked.

Bly fished around in his utility belt for something, an object he kept with him at all times. It would be hard to see it go, but he wanted Ayy to have some piece of her parents to keep with her, so she’d always know that they loved her. He found the small wooden cube and placed it in Kix’s hand.

“Will you give this to her? Or to her caretakers, to give to her?”

“I’ll see to it personally, sir,” Kix said.

He knew it wasn’t a good idea. It would look strange to anyone watching, and might bring up questions. But Bly didn’t care. He knelt down next to the crate Kix was carrying and set his hand on it, leaning forward to rest his forehead against its cold metal surface.

“Know that you’ll always be loved, Ayy.”

---

“After I left General Secura and Commander Bly, I went straight to your aunt and uncle on Hosnian Prime. They took you but they wouldn’t let you keep the cube. They said that to other Twi’leks, it would be obvious what it meant. It would be too incriminating,” Kix said, sitting next to Ayy on his narrow bunk aboard the Martinet.

She fingered the cube in her hand, silently studying its painted surface. It had rested, untouched, in the vacuum of space for most of its existence, so it didn’t show any of its fifty years’ wear.

“They were right. This was definitely meant for my mother’s kalikori,” she said.

“Kalikori?”

“You know, the figure on my desk? It’s a wooden totem that Twi’lek families keep. A sort of genealogical record.”

“Ah,” Kix said, remembering. “Well I’m glad I could finally return it to you. I’m sorry it took so long.”

Ayy’s fingers curled around the cube, and her expression hardened. “Brain chip or no, if he loved us how could he have killed her?”

Kix pursed his lips. This was the hard part. How could anyone who hadn’t experienced Order 66 themselves truly understand? How could Ayy come to know the intentions of her long-dead father’s heart?

“You know that we were manufactured, right?” he said eventually.

“Yes… On a planet called Kamino.”

“That’s right. The Kaminoans created us to be the perfect soldiers. They tweaked our DNA, gave us specialized training, and even included a sort of failsafe. A chip in our brains that, when called on, could override our individual agency and force us to follow certain commands.

“I’ve read accounts from fellow troopers who were part of the destruction of the Jedi Order. It was an impulse that was impossible to overpower, completely inescapable. And afterwards, most troopers didn’t even realize what they’d done. Only a very few were able to break free, years later.

“I know it might be hard to believe but… I don’t want you to have to go through life believing your father willingly killed your mother. None of us had a choice. None of us ever had a choice, really.”

The sound of laughter coming from the mess of the Martinet penetrated their quiet bubble, and Ayy closed her fingers around the small cube and shut her eyes. She bowed her head, and for a moment Kix wondered if she was meditating, or praying, or somehow trying to commune with her departed parents. He wondered if it was working.

“Did you keep the chip after you had it removed?” she asked eventually, eyes still closed.

“Yes, in storage in the medbay. You can examine it, if you like.”

“I would like that.”

She leaned back against the cold metal wall of the ship and folded her arms, her eyes distant and contemplative.

“What were my parents like?” she asked. “My uncle and aunt didn’t really know my mother very well, and they didn’t know anything about Commander Bly.”

“I didn’t know them as well as I knew the people in my battalion, but from what I saw, General Secura was very disciplined and dedicated to the Jedi Order. She understood the sacrifices required of war, and prioritized the mission over individuals, including herself. Bly was the same, and he was also extremely loyal to General Secura. To be honest, I was shocked that they were involved. They were alike in a lot of ways—the last two people I would have suspected of breaking any rules for personal reasons.”

“Really?” Ayy asked, eyes alight with curiosity.

“Yeah. When I was helping with your delivery, and I realized that Bly was the father?” Kix shook his head at the memory. “Well I guess it’s just a testament to how much they loved each other.”

“Perhaps....”

She held the cube up to her face, examining it carefully with her golden-brown eyes. It was amazing how much things could change. He’d seen her as a brand new infant, only minutes old, with eyes a cloudy grey and skull still soft and malleable. There was something gratifying about having seen her then and now witnessing the woman she had become.

“Why is your name Bosc?” Kix asked. “If you’d gone by Secura I would have realized much sooner who you are.”

“My uncle and aunt’s cover story for me was that I was a distant cousin. They were trying to protect my mother, trying to prevent anyone from realizing who she was. And then after she died they heard rumors that the Empire was hunting down anyone related to the Jedi, so they kept it a secret.”

“And they were the ones who told you about your mother and father?”

“They heard about her death, but it wasn’t until later that they found out it was my father who’d pulled the trigger. When I was older, I looked up his service record. I thought I might find something to help me understand. Or I thought I might find that there was a mistake—that it was someone else who’d actually killed her.”

“Did it help?” Kix asked.

“Not really. He was a model soldier, even more decorated after the fall of the Republic than before...” she trailed off, her eyes going distant as she stared into the wall opposite Kix’s bunk. 

Then her brows furrowed, and she grabbed Kix’s arm in a vice like grip. “You know what he did after the war?”

“...What?” Kix asked.

“‘Above and beyond the call of duty,’ it said. ‘Exceptional bravery,’ it said. He was killed in combat not very long after my mother, rushing an enemy’s fortified position without backup.”

A terrible sense of dread built in Kix’s chest as he realized what Ayy was suggesting, what his brother might have been driven to by the dissonance between the screaming of his heart and the chip in his brain.

“The man I knew wouldn’t have been able to stomach how the war ended, even if his mind wasn’t his own,” he admitted, his gut tying in a knot of mourning that resurfaced any time he stopped working long enough to think about his lost brothers.

Ayy’s grip on Kix’s arm tightened until her nails dug into his skin, and her jaw clenched and unclenched as an understanding of who her father was and what he had done slowly dawned on her. She bit her lip, and a single tear slid down the bridge of her nose—a strong, arched nose that could have been copied right off her father’s face. Kix thought of how the older cadets had comforted him each time he’d failed in training, and he reached the arm she wasn’t holding over to her and patted her awkwardly on the shoulder.

The dam broke, and Ayy collapsed onto Kix’s shoulder, her sobs quiet but powerful. The physicality of it all was unfamiliar to Kix, but he wrapped his arms around her and held on tight, hoping that his simple proximity might help in some measure.

As his brother’s daughter cried in his arms, Kix noticed something strange. The knot in his stomach, the twisted coil of sorrow and regret and thousands of lost faces, slowly began to ease. The coils loosened and some pieces even slipped free, and he realized that Ayy Secura was perhaps the only person left in the galaxy who might mourn as deeply as he for his lost brothers.

“It’s not fair,” Ayy said, her voice hoarse from her tears.

Kix nearly barked in gruesome laughter at how well she’d summed up the past several years of his waking life. “No, it’s not.”

He pulled back from her, holding her shoulders so she could look him in the eye. “But they have some small scrap of justice, now. Something I think would make them happy.”

“What?” Ayy asked, wiping at her eyes and looking to Kix for guidance as if she wasn’t almost thirty years’ his senior.

“You know that they both loved you. You know where you come from.”

The corner of Ayy’s mouth turned up into a smirk that Kix had seen a thousand times on the faces of his brothers, though the skin of her lips had a distinct blue tinge to it.

“In the GAR we used to always say we were brothers. Same heart, same blood. You’re part of that brotherhood now, Ayy. So long as you want to be. Always.”

Ayy’s smirk turned into a full blown smile, and she wiped at her eyes again. “I’m glad your ship blew up over my planet.”

Kix laughed, though the more he thought about it he had to agree with her. Before coming to Felucia he’d begun to doubt that there was anything of importance left for him to do in the galaxy. Now he realized his brothers had left behind a great work for him to continue, and a legacy to protect.

That night he walked Ayy back to the clinic, and they talked about everything Kix remembered about Bly and Aayla as they strolled through the humid night air. When Kix ran out of things specific to her parents, he told her about the GAR, about his brothers and the Jedi who commanded them, about their camaraderie, skill, and passion.

When they reached the clinic, Kix lingered a long while. He didn’t know how good his odds of coming back to Felucia were, and it was hard to say goodbye to the person who felt like the last vestiges of his old life in the galaxy. In the end he didn’t have to say goodbye, because Ayy invited him in to help her with something important.

Kix followed Ayy to the corner of the clinic, unsure what to expect, but Ayy’s intentions became clear when she reached for the kalikori still standing watch from her desk. She pulled the wooden cube Kix had given her out of her pocket, and skillfully inserted it into an empty link in the chain of one branch.

“I used to have a fake one here, for the people who were supposed to be my parents,” Ayy explained as she worked. “But once I decided nobody cared who I was I took it out. It felt wrong.”

She stepped back and revealed the updated kalikori, the blue-and-yellow cube hanging between an intricately carved unpainted block and another block below it with symbols Kix recognized as both traditionally Twi’lek and Human. The kalikori was complete, the gap in her family tree filled.

“Thank you, Kix. I hope our paths cross again,” Ayy said.

“Me too.”

The next day as Felucia disappeared in the rear window of the Meson Martinet, Kix’s thoughts turned to the future for the first time since he’d awoken. He was ready to move forward now, doing what he always did. Healing.

Epilogue

Kix hadn’t meant to join another army, but somehow or other his wanderings brought him into the Resistance. He no longer fought, instead spending his days in the Resistance base’s medbay on D’Qar treating freedom fighters and researching improved procedures for restoration.

He never found out how she found his holonet address, but one day he received a message from a far-away friend on Felucia.

Dear Kix,

I realize that I never apologized for how I treated you, and I’d like to do so now. You’ve made my family whole. You’ve helped me be proud of myself and where I came from—both halves. In many ways you’ve given me back my parents. I wish you well in all you do, and know that you will always have a place here if your journey ever takes you back to Felucia. I am proud to have an uncle like you.

With my whole heart,

Ayy Secura

[guilt-ferrets-are-bastards]

Surgebinding for 5e DnD

Well yall asked fr it so here you go. gonna be a bit of a long post. Bear in mind that due to the lack of screen-time for Stonewards and Willshapers I unfortunately do not have them written up.  Knights Radiant Orders: 1st ideal: Life before death. Strength before weakness. Journey before destination.

As you progress through your oaths your bond with your spren deepens granting you new powers. There are 5 stages to your oaths. You gain the ability to progress in your orders as you level up 1st ideal at lvl 3, 2nd at lvl 6, 3rd at lvl 10, 4th at lvl 13, and 5th at lvl 17. 1st ideal: stormlight absorption, stormlight healing, order bonus 2nd ideal:  order bonus 3rd ideal: shardblades 4th ideal: order bonus 5th ideal: Highstorm channeling Stormlight Absorption-you gain the ability to imbibe stormlight from nearby gems (30 ft) as a bonus action. You can absorb up to 30x your level in stormlight at once. You are able to hold a maximum of charges of stormlight depending on your lvl.  Max stormlight 3-80 4-100 5-60 6-200 7-240 8-280 9-360 10-420 11-480 12-500 13-540 14-580 15-620 16-640 17-720 18-760 19-820 20-900

Spheres hold stormlight equal to their worth. You do not need to breath while holding Stormlight.

At the end of each turn 10 charges of stormlight leak out of you (20 if you talk or otherwise exhale).Taking heavy damage may knock the wind out of you requiring a concentration check to avoid losing extra stormlight. 

Stormlight healing- as a bonus action, you may expend stormlight in sets of ten up to 1+ your constitution modifier (for example a con of +3 lets you use up to 40 Stormlight) to regain 1d4 hp per 10 charges spent (this increases to 1d6 at the 3rd ideal and 1d8 at the 5th)

Surges: each order of Knights Radiant is associated with 2 surges. These surges grant minor passive effects at a negligible cost of stormlight. All these effects require touch and may be subject to a stormlight cost or an ability check at the DMs discretion. Surgebinidng rewards creativity and you are encouraged to experiment with your abilities.

Gravitation- you can manipulate gravity's influence on an object; increasing/ decreasing/ changing the direction of its pull

Adhesion- you can manipulate the bonds between objects causing things to stick or be drawn together 

Abrasion-you can manipulate how much friction affects an item ( jam a crossbow or make part of a stone floor slick.)

Division-you can destroy the bonds that hold objects together (destroy a lock mechanism or make a peephole in a wall)

Illumination- you gain a tool proficiency and can use that tool to decrease the stormlight cost of your spells

Transportation- you can teleport small items up 10 feet into an unoccupied space

Progression- you can accelerate the growth of plants and heal minor wounds

Transformation- you can see up to 10 feet into shadesmar at will 

Shardblades- upon swearing your 3rd ideal, you can now manifest your spren as any melee weapon. You are proficient with your shardblade while wielding it. A shardblade is a +1 (+2 at 4th ideal and +3 at the 5th ideal) magic weapon that deals an extra 1d8 on hit of a damage type that corresponds with your Order. Shardblades deal double damage to objects and constructs. 

Highstorm channeling- upon swearing the 5th ideal you unlock your Order’s true potential. In order to use this feature you must either be outside in a highstorm  or expend 700 charges of stormlight. 

The Orders of the Knights Radiant

Windrunners- (Spellcasting ability modifier - Dexterity)

“I will protect those who cannot protect themselves. ”

—The Second Ideal of the Windrunners

“ I will protect even those I hate, so long as it is right. ” — The Third Ideal of the Windrunners

Surges: Gravitation and Adhesion 1st ideal: you may expend 50 stormlight to cast Catapult at first level. You may cast the spell at a higher level by expending an extra 30 stormlight for each level up to 3rd. Second ideal: you may expend 100 stormlight to cast Fly on yourself. This spell’s duration is three rounds. After that you may spend 10 stormlight each round to keep up the spell. Additionally, while under the effects of the Fly spell, if you move more than 10 feet before hitting a creature with an attack the attack deals an extra 1d6 damage per 10 feet of movement. Third ideal: shardblade- lightning damage Fourth ideal: upon swearing the 4th ideal you can expend 300 stormlight to cast either Control Winds or Steel Wind Strike.  Additionally when casting Fly using your Second ideal trait you may specify any amount of creatures up to 1+ your Dexterity Modifier. These creatures count as Levitating as per the levitate spell and you may use your bonus action on each of your turns to move them up to your move speed along with you. Unwilling creatures must make a Wisdom save to avoid this effect. Fifth ideal: Upon swearing the 5th ideal of the windrunners you may expend 700 charges of stormlight to Cast Storm of Vengeance. When cast in a highstorm you gain control over the storm for a number of rounds equal to your constitution modifier allowing you to use your modified Catapult spell as a bonus action one each turn without expending any stormlight. 

Skybreakers- (Spellcasting ability modifier - Strength) I will put the law before all else. ” — A general form of The Second Ideal of the Skybreakers “ I swear to seek justice, to let it guide me, until I find a more perfect Ideal. ” — The Second Ideal of the Skybreakers The third Ideal, also called the Ideal of Dedication, this is a specific ideal to dedicate oneself to a greater truth. It is the minimum ideal required before the Surge of Division can be used

The fourth Ideal, also called the Ideal of Crusade, and requires that a Skybreaker undertake a personal quest and complete it to the satisfaction of their highspren.

Surges:Gravitation and Division 1st ideal:  You may expend 50 stormlight to cast Thunderous Smite. You may cast the spell at a higher level by expending an extra 30 stormlight for each level above  up to 3rd level. Second ideal:you may expend 100 stormlight to cast Fly on yourself. This spell’s duration is three rounds. After that you may spend 20 stormlight each round to keep up the spell. Third ideal: Shardblade- thunder damage Fourth ideal: Upon swearing the 4th ideal you are under the effect of the Crusader’s Mantle spell as long as you have at least 100 Stormlight (you can turn this on and off as a bonus action). Fifth ideal: upon swearing your 5th ideal you can expend 700 charges of stormlight to cast Invulnerability on yourself. When using this feature in a highstorm your movement speed doubles and if you move 20 or more feet towards a target before attacking your attack deals an extra 1d6 damage per 10 feet traveled. 

Dustbringers- (Spellcasting ability modifier - Constitution)

Surges: Abrasion and Division 1st ideal: you may expend 20 stormlight to cast Create Bonfire or 50 to cast Burning Hands at first level. You may cast the spell at a higher level by expending an extra 30 stormlight for each level above 1st up to 3rd level. Second ideal: you may expend 100 stormlight to cast Fireball or Shatter at 3rd level Third ideal: Shardblade- fire damage Fourth ideal: Upon swearing the fourth ideal under the effect of Fire Shield as long as you have at least 100 stormlight (you can turn this on and off as a bonus action). Fifth ideal: upon swearing your 5th ideal you may expend 700 charges of stormlight to cast Meteor swarm. When you use this feature in a Highstorm the spell deals an additional 5d6 bludgeoning and 5d6 fire damage.

Edgedancers- (Spellcasting ability modifier - Constitution) I will remember those who have been forgotten. ” — The Second Ideal of the Edgedancers“I will listen to those who have been ignored. ” —The Third Ideal of the Edgedancers

Surges: Abrasion and Progression

1st Ideal- while holding stormlight you are unaffected by difficult terrain and your movement speed increases by 10 feet. Your stormlight healing trait increases to 3+ you constitution modifiers and as a bonus action you can expend stormlight as per your Stormlight healing trait to heal any creature you touch (doing so means you may not use the trait for yourself that turn). 2nd Ideal- While holding Stormlight your movement speed increases by an additional 10 feet, you gain advantage on all saves against being grappled or restrained, and gain a climb speed equal to your movement speed. Additionally you may expend 150 stormlight to cast Revivify. 3rd Ideal-Shardblade- Necrotic damage 4th Ideal-Upon swearing your 4th ideal you are under the effect of the Haste spell as long as you have at least 100 stormlight (you can turn this on and off as a bonus action). You may use your Stormlight healing or cast Revivify using this feature as a free action if you used your hasted action to move. However, whenever you are hit by an attack, you lose 50 Stormlight and may be required to succeed on a Dexterity saving throw (DC 10 or half the damage you took) or fall prone (if your last action was movement, if you moved into a creature’s melee range to attack on your last turn). Additional events may cause you to make the save such as sudden turns or hazards in your way. 5th Ideal- upon swearing your 5th ideal you may expend 700 charges of Stormlight to cast Mass Heal. when you use this feature in a highstorm half of the unused healing can be divided among creatures of your choice as temporary HP

Lightweavers- (Spellcasting ability modifier - Charisma) No ideals, only “Truths” Stormlight spellcasting: Casting spells with stormlight ignores somatic and material components. Cantrips cost 10 stormlight, other spells cost 20 X their lvl in stormlight (lvl1=20, lvl 2=40, lvl 3=60 etc) 

Surges: Illumination and Transformation 1st Ideal- Stormlight spellcasting (charisma) cantrips and 1st level spells, Soulcasting 2nd Ideal- 2nd and 3rd level spells, Stormlight Reabsorption (you may choose to end one of your illusion spells before its duration is over to regain half of the stormlight used to cast it as long as you are within 30 feet of the illusion) 3rd Ideal- Shardblade- psychic damage, 4th and 5th level spells 4th Ideal- 6th level spells 5th Ideal- upon telling your final truth you may expend 700 charges of stormlight to cast Weird. When you use this feature in a highstorm should the creature fail their 1st saving throw they must succeed 3 times for the effect to be dismissed instead of once. On succeeded saves they only take half psychic damage. 

Elsecallers- (Spellcasting ability modifier - Charisma)

Surges:Transformation and Transportation

1st Ideal- Soulcasting, You may expend 30 stormlight to cast Misty Step 2nd Ideal- You gain advantage on all Charisma checks involving Soulcasting objects. You May also expend 100 stormlight to cast Blink 3rd Ideal- Shardblade- Force damage, you may expend 25 stormlight per creature to transport yourself and any willing creatures into or out of Shadesmar. Once in shadesmar you can teleport 5 miles for every 5 stormlight you spend per creature. 4th Ideal- You can also now also attempt to soulcast creatures whose CR is equal to half your lvl or less 5th Ideal- Upon swearing your 5th ideal you may expend 700 charges of stormlight to cast Mass Polymorph. When cast in a highstorm, upon the spell ending (whether through lack of concentration, duration running out, or losing all temporary hp) each affected non-Invested creature must make a charisma saving throw using their polymorphed statistics. If they fail then the polymorph becomes permanent.

Truthwatchers (Spellcasting Ability Modifier- Wisdom)

Stormlight spellcasting: Casting spells with stormlight ignores somatic and material components. Cantrips cost 10 stormlight, oher spells cost 20 X their lvl in stormlight (lvl1=20, lvl 2=40, lvl 3=60 etc) 

Surges: Illumination and Progression 1st Ideal: Stormlight spellcasting (wisdom), Cantrips and first lvl spells, You may use your stormlight healing trait on adjacent allies as an action. If you do so you cannot benefit from stormlight healing this turn. 2nd Ideal: Upon swearing the second ideal you begin getting glimpses of the future. As an Action, you may expend 50 charges to roll a D20. Until you take a long rest you may, as a reaction, replace any roll with the number rolled. You may use this feature up to 3 times after which you require a long rest before you can do so again. (This is essentially Divination Wizard’s Portent feature), 3d lvl spells 3rd Ideal: Shardblade- Radiant damage 4th and 5th lvl spells 4th Ideal: 6th lvl spells 5th Ideal: Upon swearing your 5th ideal you may expend 700 charges of stormlight to cast Foresight on yourself. If you use this feature in a highstorm You also automatically cast Commune, Scrying (on a target of the DM’s choice), and gain 1 use of your 2nd ideal feature. 

***not a PC option***Bondsmiths-

“I will unite instead of divide. I will bring men together. ” — The Second Ideal of the Bondsmiths “ I will take responsibility for what I have done. If I must fall, I will rise each time a better man. ” — The Third Ideal of the Bondsmiths 1st ideal- Dalinar can see through the eyes of the stormfather, witnessing everything seen by the Highstorm and empower other Radiants’ abilities 2nd ideal- Dalinar Kholin unites the Realms, instantly recharging all gems within half a mile, granting all creatures of his choice 25 temporary hitpoints, and granting all surgebinders their maximum charges of stormlight The way these currently function is that each character has access to 2 Surges and to the Ideal specific abilities of their order. The abilities are pretty straight forward but the surges are based on creativity. All I told my windrunner player for example is “you can manipulate gravity and make things draw together” and had her go wild experimenting from there to figure out that she can walk on walls or send people to the ceiling.  I also have the spell lists for the Truthwatchers and Lightweavers but did not atach them because this post is long enough as it is. Ill put them up if people ask for them but they are for the most part Illusion and Enchantment spells for the Lightweavers and Illusion, healing, and plant growth spells for the Truthwatchers. Feel free to use any of these goodies but if you are going to share it please credit me for the endless hours i spent trying to make this not suck XD

[cryptonewsmanuelakanji]

Genius Tokens Cryptotoken A.I. Processing

Genius Tokens Cryptotoken A.I. Processing

More than a CryptoToken. Genius tokens are at the heart of a unique blockchain and software system.

https://www.gnus.ai/ #Genius #GNUS #Geniusventures #ICO #cryptotoken

Introduction:

Every day, more advanced technologies emerge across the business landscape. They bring innovation and disruption that continue to drive growth. Over the past few years, cloud service providers have helped businesses transform their extensive processes. Cloud solutions are a powerful industry that is rapidly maturing and becoming mainstream. But over time technology advances and developers need better tools and methods to handle the additional processing required for high volume data processing, which has increased the need for advanced computing and performance. Although cloud computing resources can support global applications, the centralized architecture introduces scalability problems.

Distributed computing solves the problem of scalability by spreading the demand for compute processes across multiple high-powered machines. To solve this problem, Genius Ventures is here.

How to Take Part in the $80 Billion AI/ML Industry Using Crypto | Machine Learning and Blockchain.

https://youtu.be/2cBU1mM0DWk

What is Genius Ventures?

The Genius Ventures system infrastructure serves as a distributed multi-purpose service with a cryptographic payment system that allocates computing resources and integrates them into real-world projects.

Genius Ventures utilizing unused cycles of Compute Devices on computers, mobile devices, and IoT devices, the system processes Artificial Intelligence and Machine Learning data on an end-user device. The end-user is then paid in Genius Crytpotokens that can be reused for In-App purchases or converted back to other currencies. In addition, the entire system easily integrates into Computer and mobile games and applications.

Aim of Genius Ventures

Genius Ventures seeks to implement a scalable, high-performance, secure, and a manageable infrastructure side chain that promotes a new form of distributed management, which includes key leaders in computing, large data, and cloud industries.

Genius Ventures aims at providing a system and method for distributed general-purpose computing with a crypto token payment system. This payment system integrates a slow blockchain crypto token with a fast DAG-based crypto token. This technology is based on smart contracts “Genius Tokens” from Ethereum and allows the creation of a virtual cloud infrastructure that provides high-performance computing services on demand.

Genius Tokens Blockchain

Utilizing unused cycles of Compute Devices on computers, mobile devices, and IoT devices, the system processes Artificial Intelligence and Machine Learning data on an end-user device. The end-user is then paid in Genius Crytpotokens that can be reused for In-App purchases or converted back to other currencies. In addition, the entire system easily integrates into Computer and mobile games and applications.

01 TRANSACTION

Customers request processing of data for Artificial Intelligence or Machine Learning and pay into an account that converts the currency into Genius Tokens. The transaction happens via a distributed web interface and payment / cryptocurrency conversion system. The customer then uploads or references data to be processed.

02 DATA TRANSFER

The data to be processed is uploaded to a encrypted area in a distributed file systems. As part of the transaction, the costs of storage are charged against the deposit. If the customer has storage for their own data, the system then references this data through secure SSL transactions with the individual customers own SSL public key

03 A.I.PROCESSING

Using a distributed networking system, similar to what peer-to-peer games use, the transaction is communicated to participants that have games and or apps installed that can process the A.I. Data. The workload is divided and distributed to indivdual nodes for processing either in a standalone app or while running a game.

04 VALIDATE AND ADD

After processing ,all nodes report back results to a fast blockchain that aggregates the results data and verifies that nodes aren’t cheating the system. The data is verified with a parity verification node and encryption verification. The data is then stored in the distributed files system or returned to the customers data storage area.

05 COMPLETE

After the data has been validated, a transaction complete is sent to the main blockchain. The blockchain moves the payment in Genius tokens out of escrow ready to be distributed to the individual nodes that processed the data

06 PAYMENTS

Once the process is complete the blockchain contract then distributes 70% of the Genius tokens to all the individual nodes wallets. The publisher of the app or game will then receive 20% with Genius Ventures receiving 10% The users can convert the tokens to regular currencies or use for in-app purchases.

FEATURES

The Genius Ventures system is truly cross-platform and can be integrated into most devices.

Works everywhere:

Code and SDK works on all devices, including Windows, OSX, iOS, Android, Linux, Windows Mobile, XBOX, Playstation, Nintendo, and IoT Devices

Customizable

A.I. or Machine learning algorithms can be selected by the customer through a customer portal and data can be uploaded or on customers secure servers

Fast

The hybrid Cryptotoken system uses a fast internal Directed Acyclic Graph (DAG) based blockchain that executes transactions in microseconds.

Always available

Stand-alone applications, embedded systems, or games with the SDK integrated can run the processing.

Organic

Growth is organic in two ways

1, User Acquisition costs are almost zero

2, Users get paid to process data, enticing them to use your game or app more.

Mobile-first

Development of the SDK is targeted for Mobile devices first and uses the compute devices on any system.

GNUS TOKENS

Token Sale & Values

Genius (GNUS) system is a hybrid token system with the GNUS token being released on the Ethereum network and the internal fast SGNUS token using a proprietary internal blockchain for fast processing

Start: July 15, 2021 (12:00AM PST)

Number of tokens for sale: 29,252,000 (59%)

First 12,500 ETH: Receives 1000 GNUS Tokens per ETH

2nd 12,500 ETH: Receives 800 GNUS Tokens per ETH

3rd 12,500 ETH: Receives 640 GNUS Tokens per ETH

4th 12,500 ETH: Receives 512 GNUS Tokens per ETH

Token Allocation

Funds Allocation

ROADMAP

The official Genius Ventures site features a roadmap with everything the team did so far with the platform.

It started with game development back in 2018, when the idea about this project was born. More than two years later, in October 2020, the team began developing a fast blockchain solution. In 2021, the team concludes working on a slow blockchain solution and connecting it to Ethereum’s dapps.

All in all, the stage is set for this ambitious project to take off, and the ongoing ICO is just one of the many planned stages for the future. If all goes well, Genius Ventures might become the next big thing in the AI and blockchain spheres, as it features some world-changing ideas, especially for gamers worldwide, who would get an opportunity to earn tokens doing what they love.

Genius Mobile App

Once you’ve entered our ecosystem, you can manage everything. Anyone with a smartphone. Computer, IoT devices, and an internet connection can participate in the global system.

Out Genius Wallet acts not only as an ERC20 Wallet, but it also acts as an independent DAPP built right in. This allows you to participate in the AI/ML global Processing and collect fees.

See your earnings in the App

Charts showing GPU Processing power

Transfer GNUS <-> SGNUS directly

Transfer GNUS tokens to another wallet

No more expensive fees

The Leadership Team

The ICO Crypto Team combines a passion for esports, industry expertise & a proven record in finance, development, marketing & licensing.

Kenneth Hurley: CEO

Brent Arias: CTO

Denis Trofimov: Director of Software Development

For more information please follow the link below:

Website: https://www.gnus.ai/

Whitepaper: https://www.gnus.ai/wp-content/uploads/2021/08/Genius-Tokens-Whitepaper-1.0_Final.pdf

Telegram: https://t.me/geniustokenschat

Twitter: https://twitter.com/VenturesGenius

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/geniusventures.io/

Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/company/geniusventuresio

Author:

Bitcointalk Username: Manuel Akanji

Bitcointalk Profile: https://bitcointalk.org/index.php?action=profile;u=2954998

ETH Address: 0x176a48a2Eb8FF8dfa46e58741E4A7b642C90F512

[beeblebrox-be-damned]

Drive Him Crazy (Part 7)(A bit of Christmas Fluff!!)

Dark!Alpha!Steve Rogers x Omega!Reader

Christmas normally gets me really down (moreso than usual), so I wrote bit of Christmas fluff to cheer myself up. More to come later uwu

Without the lab to go to, you were at a loss of what to do. Over the next month after the incident, you spent your time trying out various hobbies.

Sewing was a bust. It seemed you fingertips were magnets for the sharp ends of needles. Knitting went in much the same way, though the needles weren’t as sharp and mostly you just got your hands tangled in yarn. It seemed that everything you tried was either too boring or too frustrating to keep up with.

As the holidays drew nearer, you made up your mind to take up cooking. You were decent, but you were sure you could improve. Surprisingly, you took to it fairly well. Steve seemed quite impressed, and the domesticity of it was quite pleasant for both of you. At times Steve almost felt like he was back in the 40’s, with a doting housewife and baby on the way. It was addicting.

The domestic bliss carried over into the rest of life too. You threw your heart into being the best Omega you could, since you couldn’t distract yourself with working outside the home. Days spent cleaning, something you used to hate, now were rather enjoyable. You could work without Steve hovering over you as though you were made of glass. 

One month before Christmas, you decided you wanted to decorate. With quite a bit of cajoling, you managed to get Steve to relent to your whims. A trip to the store, with Steve accompanying you protectively of course, yielded strings of lights and classy ornaments, as well as a few other odds-and-ends. (Which included a very odd little kit that Steve insisted on getting but would not let you see yet. All you got a glimpse of was the silhouette of a very pregnant lady on the package cover.)

Of course, no homey Christmas is complete without a tree. Clutching Steve’s hand tightly in your own smaller, mitten-clad one, you trudged merrily through the snow. The Avenger’s Compound was located on many acres of woodland, which included many stands of evergreens. You had been fine with settling for a plastic tree, but Steve insisted upon having an authentic pine.

Breath clouding in front of you, you turned and looked at Steve. He was carrying an ax, sharpened and ready for whichever tree you determined to be suitable. Unbothered by the cold, he wore a plain plaid shirt covered with a thick jacket you had forced him to wear. Snow flakes settled in his hair and the scruff of a beard he’d been cultivating. You wanted to kiss him until each one melted away.

You, unfortunately, were dressed very heavily. Steve wouldn’t let you out of the compound into the bitter winter air without every stitch of winter wear you owned covering your body. You had protested, but he was every bit as stubborn as you and won out eventually. Your jacket puffed out everywhere, and he had cheerily forced a hat upon your head that even covered your ears. You swore you looked like the Stay-Puffed Marshmallow Man from Ghostbusters, much to your chagrin. When you had said this, Steve only grinned and patted your belly, telling you it looked terribly cute.

The snow wasn’t too deep, thankfully, or your legs would’ve hated you. You were in good shape, you were an Avenger after all, but the layers of heavy clothing, huge snowboots, and the baby-weight you’d put on were all very hindering to your general movement. Finally tired of walking, you stopped and plopped down on a fallen tree after swiping some snow off of it.

“I’m done walking,” you huffed, “we can find a tree here, yeah?” Steve glanced around the small clearing you’d entered, nodding.

“Looks good to me, little one. See anything you like?” He gazed over the trees, taking off his jacket so he could better maneuver his ax. His muscles rippled beneath his shirt delectably as he tested the weight and swing of the tool.

Your tongue swiped over your lips as you watched him. “Well, for one, you standing right there in front of me.” It was no secret your libido had been sky-high as of late, something Steve often took advantage of. 

He grinned and shook his head. “Woah there little girl, it’s too cold for that kind of talk.” He stretched one more time, just to tease you. “I meant, do you see a tree you like?”

You scanned the area, finally settling on a modest sapling. It was around six feet tall, not too big or too small to make a good Christmas tree. It was coated in snow, but the green needles peeked out at you invitingly. You lifted your hand and pointed, then realized it was probably a bit hard to see where you were pointing considering it was a bit hard to see your fingers, removed your mitten, and pointed again. “That one looks nice. What do you think?”

Steve walked over to the tree, brushing away snow. “Looks perfect to me,” he said, clearing snow away from the tree’s base. 

“Are you sure it isn’t too big? We walked quite a way and I don’t want you to have to carry it so far if it’s too much,” you fretted. Steve chuckled.

“Honey, this tree is tiny. I’ll have no trouble with it.” He took a swing at the tree’s base, making a sizable dent at the first try. “Y’know,” he said as he worked, “once I carried Bucky two miles in two foot-deep snow?”

“Really? Dang. What happened?” You leaned over as a wood-chip flew past your ear. 

Steve laughed, beginning to explain the story as he finished cutting the tree and the two of you trudged home. “Well, you see, Bucky had gotten a bit too tipsy the night before at the base…”

Steve made sure both you and the tree made it home in one piece. By the time you got back, all the snow had fallen from its branches, leaving it ready to be decorated. Once the two of you had wrangled it in and out of the elevator and got it into the apartment, you were buzzing with excitement. While Steve situated the tree in its water-filled base, you set to work unboxing ornaments and lights and tinsel.

The tree looked perfect. You and Steve had worked for over an hour to get it decorated just right, the display looking stunning. You grinned as you looked at your handiwork, handing the star to Steve. “One last touch.”

Steve pressed the star back into your hands, then grabbed your hips and lifted you easily. It wasn’t that far to the top, and you were light as a feather. You placed the star on the tree, connecting it to the strand of lights so that it lit up too. Steve sat you back down, wrapping his arms around you and resting his chin atop your head. “Perfect, ‘Mega. Good job.”

You grinned at the praise, a chill of happiness shooting up your spine. You tilted your head backwards and planted a kiss on the underside of his scruffy chin, then wriggled out of his grasp. You reached for a strand of unused tinsel, winding it around your neck like a fancy feather boa. You shot Steve a playful look, grinning. He shook his head and laughed, then a look of excitement flashed over his face. “I’ll be right back,” he said and left the room.

He returned a moment later with an unopened shopping bag. “Sit down and close you eyes, okay?” You looked at him warily, but sat back on the couch and let your eyes fall shut. You heard the rustle of packaging and raised your eyebrow. “Just what are you up to, Rogers?”

“Hush and let me work,” he said. You could practically hear his shit-eating grin. You flinched and giggled as he pushed your shirt up over your belly. You felt something cold on your belly, and you yelped. It tickled, whatever it was. “Hold still, little one,” Steve said, concentrating.

The ticklish torture lasted several minutes. Finally, Steve sat back and let you open your eyes. You snorted as you looked down at your belly, laughing.

The kit Steve had gotten was a Christmas-themed set of skin-safe paint, intended to be used to decorate a baby-bump. Steve had done just that, painting a large green wreath with a red bow on your skin. In the center was something you couldn’t quite read all the way. Steve grinned.

“It says ‘Alpha’s Christmas present’,” he said proudly, a mischievous glint in his eyes. You smiled, face burning with embarrassment and affection for the valiant Avenger.

Before you could react, Steve had whipped out his camera, snapping a photo of you. “I plan to get one of these every year,” he said, swiping his tongue over his lips. You raised your eyebrow.

“Every year?” you asked incredulously. Steve had talked like that before, but it was during coitus and you’d never thought about it seriously. 

Steve smirked and nodded, standing up and pulling you to your feet. “Every year,” he said, planting a quick kiss on your nose and then a longer, more sensual kiss on your lips. “Now, how ‘bout you let alpha get a sneak peak at his present?”

You blinked, stepping back and trying to process what you’d just heard. “Steve, every year? That’s a bit much, don’t you think?” You could hardly imagine it, bouncing young pups on your hips while struggling with more on the way.

Steve frowned, nudging you to sit back down on the couch. He kneeled in front of you, kissing your painted belly. “No,” he stated simply, “I don’t.” He trailed kisses down your belly, leaning you back so he could reach every bit of the skin between your navel and pelvis.

“B-but, I can’t take care of that many,” you stammered. You’d be overwhelmed, and likely never able to return to work as an Avenger.

Steve chuckled, reaching the rim of your sweatpants and tugging them down your hips, your panties traveling shortly behind. “Yes you will, Omega. And I’ll be there to help.” His lips ghosted over your folds, his breath warm against the sensitive skin.

“But you have work!” you exclaimed, shaking your head. “I can’t take care of that many kids every day, especially not if I’m pregnant. I have a hard enough time doing regular tasks as it is without having to worry about taking care of pups!” Your belly was quite a struggle to work with as it grew.

Steve smiled and placed a firm kiss over your clit before he rose and pressed a kiss to your lips. “You won’t be alone all day,” he rumbled, nipping your lower lip. “I’m going to cut back on missions.” His hands caressed your swollen breasts, teasing your sensitive, pert nipples through your shirt.

You raised your eyebrows. “What? But the team needs you. They need me too, we can’t just abandon that!” You pushed at his shoulder, trying to stave him off while you discussed this matter.

With one hand he unzipped his pants, baring his cock. He rubbed himself as he smiled at you, groaning as he spoke. “Omega, I’ve made it clear you aren’t going to be back on missions for a long, long time. I already told the team.” 

Your jaw dropped. “You wha- ah..!” Your protests were cut off as he parted your legs and entered you in one swift motion. You fought back a moan as he rocked his hips.

Steve’s lips found your’s once again as he started to fuck you roughly, getting his point across. You were his. “And with all the new members, I only need to go on major missions. Maybe twice a year, or even less.” His hands locked on your hips as he rutted into you.

You whimpered as his thick, pulsing cock massaged you walls, dragging in and out of your soaked cunt with a learned precision. He knew every part of you, every place to hit in order to drive you towards your climax. “I’ll be here for you all the time,” he rumbled, his lips dragging over yours, “with all our pups. It will be perfect.”

His lips found your bond-mark, mouthing the sensitive scarred area. You shivered and whined, melting beneath him despite yourself. The sensations were clouding your head. “St-eve,” you panted, “I-”

“Shh,” he soothed, silencing you once more with a kiss. His thumb rubbed your clit. Tears gathered in the corners of your eyes as waves of pleasure washed over you. Your body jerked and your walls spasmed, milking his cock. He spilled into you with a loud groan. “Shh, it’ll be okay, ‘Mega..”

Knotted and unable to separate, Steve lifted you up and laid back on the couch, sitting you on top of him, straddling his hips. His hands kneaded your sides as he admired your painted, burgeoning belly. “It’ll be perfect, Omega,” he repeated. “A perfect family.” TAGLIST:

@stupendousshepherdloverpony @imsonick @auroussss

[edgierthanmost]

DBD MIRRORED FACES DLC

This DLC includes a new map, as well as a new killer.

• THE THING •

Makekrh Rhogggot was a creature of Lovecraftian origins it would appear ; however, it didn't possess the godly powers of what a Lovecraftian creature would have. A runt, some would say. For such a pathetic display, it was banished to Earth. Only a small creature no bigger than 2'5", an explorer named Richard Stevens found the runt, taking them in. Worried the explorer became when the beast began growing, to match the height of a 6'5" man. It seemed to copy his appearance when he was around ; and return to their blank self when he was not in their view. It was not until the acknowledgement of this creature by the government, did this go wrong. The creature was taken from the explorer, who was shot for his unwillingness to cooperate. Drove away, and then sent into a lab where they were confined by a glass cell, the creature became unresponsive, sitting in the corner most of the days when there was people there. This happened for weeks, months, maybe even years. There was nothing left to report on the creature ; so they were going to put it down to avoid it hurting anyone. Going into the cell, the scientists were attacked. What was strange about this, was that they were attacked by themselves. The creature masked as one of the scientists slaughtered them. Followed by the breaking of the glass cell's front. Alarms were sounded off, security arrived, but they were no match for themselves. Knowing everything they were doing-- because it was like looking through a mirror. When police finally arrived at the scene ; every one of the faculty were lying on the floor bloodied by what seemed like human fingerprints. When tested ; it only came up like it was them who did this to themselves. Examining around more, looking at the cameras.. It appeared the creature just vanished, a fog surrounding the room and clouding the cameras. No one knew what that thing was.

• An unpredictable killer ; able to take on many forms to confuse their prey and use powers of the forms he takes on. •

• Difficulty : Hard •

• Mirror, Mirror •

The Thing is able to conjure up forms of different killers ; being able to use their powers.

When first activating Mirror, Mirror ; you will have a brief startup time before you transform into a random killer. If you use this while staring at a survivor, it will not work and the Thing will be stunned for a short period.

When the Thing is taking a random killer's form, it can be taken out of by a survivor flashlight stunning them. The only way to tell that it is the Thing, and not the killer it's imitating, is by the sound it makes. It will still play the Thing's stun sound, and "breathing" sound.

When the Thing starts a match, pictures of killers will be scattered throughout the map. Without any addons, the Thing will not be able to see their auras and must find them on their own. When staring at one of the pictures, the Thing will take the form of the killer in the picture with a slightly longer startup time. The picture will then be torn, if the picture is torn/used too much, the Thing will not recognize it and it will become unusable.

When taking form of The Shape, half of the Evil Within I meter will be filled. When taking form of The Oni, you will start with 0 blood. When taking form of the Wraith, you will start invisible with an audio cue.

Mirror, Mirror will be on a cooldown of 1 minute before you can acquire another killer's form. The cooldown will be reduced to 30 seconds if the Thing was stunned either by pallet drop/flashlight stun.

When Mirror, Mirror is on cooldown ; The Thing will shrink in size, and grow back when the cooldown has ended.

•ADDONS•

Blood Bag (UnCommon)

When the Thing takes the form of the Oni, they will start with 10 blood.

Family Photo (Ultra Rare)

When the Thing takes the form of The Shape, you will immediately start in Tier II.

Dog Collar (Common)

The cooldown of Mirror, Mirror is reduced.

Richard's Note (UnCommon)

The startup of Mirror, Mirror is reduced.

Decapitated Teddy Bear (Rare)

The cooldown of Mirror, Mirror is reduced considerably.

Makerkrth's Drawing (Ultra Rare)

See the aura of photos within 32 metres.

Trapper Sack (Common)

When the Thing takes the form of the Trapper, start with one extra bear trap.

Setting Tools (Rare)

When the Thing takes the form of the Trapper, considerably increase the speed at which bear traps are set.

Award Winning Chili (Very Rare)

When the Thing takes the form of the Cannibal, chainsaw acceleration is tremendously increased. Considerably increases time penalty of bumping into objects.

Primer Bulb (UnCommon)

When the Thing takes the form of the Cannibal, moderately reduce the Chainsaw startup time.

Leather Knife Sheath (Very Rare)

When the Thing takes the form of the Ghostface, moderately increase speed when crouched.

Willow Wreath (Rare)

When the Thing takes the form of the Hag, reveal a survivor's aura when they trigger a Phantasm trap.

Rusty Attachments (Very Rare)

When the Thing takes the form of the Pig, Reverse Bear Trapped Survivors suffer from the "Mangled" status effect.

Iridescent King (Ultra Rare)

When the Thing takes the form of the Doctor, Survivors suffer from effects of Calm, Restraint, and Discipline.

Nancy's Masterpiece (Rare)

When the Thing takes the form of the Nightmare, moderately decreases Dream Projection cooldown.

Paint Thinner (Rare)

When the Thing takes the form of the Nightmare, replace Dream Snares with Dream Pallets.

Spiked Boots (Uncommon)

When the Thing takes the form of the Hillbilly, moderately increase Chainsaw sprint steering.

Dead Rabbit (Uncommon)

When the Thing takes the form of the Shape, moderately decrease terror radius in Tier Evil Within II, moderately increase terror radius in Evil Within III.

Cold Dirt (Very Rare)

When the Thing takes the form of the Legion, considerably decrease cooldown of Feral Frenzy.

Fuming Mixtape (Ultra Rare)

When the Thing takes the form of the Legion, using Feral Frenzy ; you can determine how much the generators have been repaired.

Oak Haft (UnCommon)

When the Thing takes the form of the Huntress, moderately reduce the time between hatchet throws.

Mew's Guts (Rare)

When the Thing takes the form of the Demogorgon, slightly reduce the cooldown of missed Shred attacks, adds 1 portal.

Forgotten Videotape (Rare)

When the Thing takes the form of the Executioner, moderately reduce Rites of Judgement recharge time.

Bad Man Keepsake (Uncommon)

When the Thing takes the form of the Nurse, the aura of survivors healing or being healed will be revealed within 28 metres after hitting the survivor with a successful post-Blink attack.

Warden's Keys (Rare)

When the Thing takes the form of the Deathslinger, moderately reduce Speargun Reload time.

Thick Cork Stopper (UnCommon)

When the Thing takes the form of the Clown, moderately decrease Reload time.

Potent Tincture (UnCommon)

When the Thing takes the form of the Plague, moderately decrease cooldown of Vile Purge.

"All Seeing" - Blood (Very Rare)

When the Thing takes the form of the Wraith, see the auras of survivors within 12 meters when cloaked.

"Swift Hunt" - White (Rare)

When the Thing takes the form of the Wraith, considerably reduce the reappearance time.

Bloody Hair Brooch (Very Rare)

When the Thing takes the form of the Spirit, considerably increase Yamaoka's Haunting activation charge rate.

Yamaoka Sashimono (Rare)

When the Thing takes the form of the Oni, moderately increase Blood Fury duration.

• PERKS•

×Broken Bonds×

" I love you, little buddy. Don't you ever forget it. " -Richard Stevens

When survivors are together, their auras get revealed for 2/4/5 seconds. Has a cooldown of 6/5/4 minutes.

×Hex: Perception Check×

" This thing's got my head spinning.. " -Dr. ?????

Your deception is unbounded, every time you trick your prey, your hunger only grows.

At the start of trial a hex will spawn, this hex totem is a fake. When cleansed it would say that the hex curse is gone, when infact it isn't. Ontop of that, when a copycat totem is cleansed, all generators across the map suffer a 20/25/30% regression penalty.

Hex: Perception check will only be activated when another hex perk is active, and does not work with no one escapes death.

×Otherworldly×

" Woah, what is this? Some. . sort of alien? " -Richard Stevens

Being kicked out of your home because you were different. . It broke something in you, didn't it?

Everytime you get stunned either through pallet drops or flashlight stuns, you gain a token.

1 token - 2/3/5% speed boost

2 tokens - 2/3/5% missed attack recovery

3 tokens - 2/3/5% stun recovery

4 tokens - 2/3/5% attack recovery

(Maxs out at 4, depletes slowly after 60/80/90 seconds.)

•MORI•

The Thing turns into it's victim, jumping on them and grabbing a sharp rock laying nearby. The Thing would proceed to stab the survivor several times, before transforming back into its original form and ripping the survivor's arm off using it's mouth.

•••••••••

•New Map : Enclosure (Buckland Lab)•

The very place where they took Makekrh, blood stains and bodies still lay in there and as a reminder of what happened that day.

•TRIVIA•

If you turn into the Pig, and someone has a reverse bear trap on when you exit that form, the trap will disappear.

If you turn into the Doctor, and have madness levels on people, they will remain after you transform back but it won't mean or do anything. It will go away if you turn into Freddy.

The Thing is more child-like than anything, being banished and not really taught anything kept them naive.

Though Makekrh has no gender, they like to identify as male, and use male pronouns. This is because of how his rescuer-- Richard Stevens-- was male. He learns things from other people.

There are currently two achievements for The Thing ;

Adept Thing : In a public match, achieve a merciless victory with the Thing using only their 3 unique perks.

Complete Copy : Copy all of the killers as the Thing.

In his small state, he stands below average, in his tall state he is, well, tall.

The Thing currently has 2 skins.

The Thing has a reduced lunge range in his small state.

(Any addon that does not have a picture is a canon addon ; and Tumblr has a 10 picture limit.)

[faroreswinds]

Data Mining Activities & Quotes Analysis: Sylvain

As per what I said before, I want to look deeper into data mining for funsies and just see what I can spot. 

Today’s character is: Sylvain! 

As a little disclaimer, I won’t be doing all his quotes because that’s a LOT! Instead, I’m just going to focus on stuff I think is interesting to look at, like particular classroom questions, or his lost items, or whatever. One day, I’ll probably get into the chapters individually but today is just to focus on one character. I’ll also update this as I find more stuff, as a small heads-up. If you find something that I missed, feel free to let me know and I’ll update the post as well.

Ok, so let’s get into it!

Check out more from this series of analysis here. They will be updated over time.  

Basics- Battle

Most of the battle quotes aren’t interesting, and the data mining does not include the voiced lines without text so I had to turn to the wiki page. That said, there were a few Post Time Skip Defeat the Enemy quotes he says I find particularly interesting:

"Don't bother haunting me."

"Burn until we meet again."

Based on Annette’s support with Claude, we know the Kingdom has a particularly interesting view on the afterlife. I won’t go into the details here- instead, I will be making a Kingdom focused page for all things cultural that will cover it- but the talk of “burning” and “haunting” go along with their beliefs. 

Not to mention, it is very, very dark. And Sylvain, despite his carefree attitude, has got a dark and gritty view of life. He’s smiling on the outside, but he will have no qualms with taking you down. 

Basics- Cooking and Choir

Sylvain just has no interest in either of these things, as per his quotes: 

Cooking Together

Part I: Cooking... Cooking... Heh. Well, it'll all work out somehow...maybe.

Part II: If you just follow the recipe, most things will come out fine. I think.

Choir Practice

It's hard to sneak out when the professor is watching.

Share a Meal- Dining Dialogue

Sylvain only has two people he has quotes with during meal time: Ingrid and Dimitri. Surprisingly, not Felix, despite having an ending with him and not an ending with Dimitri. His quotes with Ingrid are just cute, but I think his quotes with Dimitri have some nice little insights:

Support C

Sylvain: You know what, Professor? His Highness here is the most stubborn guy I know.

Dimitri: Now, Sylvain, why not go ahead and eat? If you do not, I may help myself to it.

Support B

Sylvain: By the way, how delicious are the monastery meals, right? We sure don't eat like this back in the Kingdom.

Dimitri: I agree. If we could only grow more food on our poor soil, and in the severe winter of the north...

Sylvain has a lot of quotes, including from FEH and from his support with Dimitri, that pertain to wanting Dimitri to relax (and that he’s too stubborn to). This goes hand in hand with the relationship chart that came out from Nintendo Dream some time back:

I wish I could link this picture to the original translator, but I don’t know who did it. But as you can see, Sylvain wants Dimitri to relax. 

The quotes from support B gives some insight into the Kingdom, about how they just don’t eat like they do at the monastery because the winter of the north is so severe and it’s hard to grow food.

Sylvain’s default responses aren’t particularly interesting, except for:

Neutral: I realized it after I got to the monastery—nobody in Faerghus knows how to cook.

Basically saying that the food at the monastery is particularly good. This goes well with Faerghus having poor yields of food in general. 

Share a Meal- Favorite/ Least Favorite Foods

Sylvain seems to have a pension for fish, as based on his favorite foods. Nearly every dish he loves is fish based, except for one with is a meal for two dish (obviously a philandering thing), a few white meat dishes, and the Sweet Bun Trio, which is a Faerghus sweet. Except for the Sweet Bun Trio, all his favorites have meat, which makes sense because colder climates tends to lend to meat dishes to maintain the calories needed to maintain body heat. The dishes with fish include Teutates Loach (a fish from the Kingdom), White Trout, Airmid Pike, and Albinean Herring.

He has few dishes he doesn’t like, which all happen to be seafood based except for one. The fish meals are not described as particularly tasty, or they are extremely simple without much preparation. The only non-fish meal he doesn’t like is the Beast Meat Teppenyaki, which is described to have a wilderness taste- and he probably doesn’t like it due to history he may have with his brother. 

Interestingly, he doesn’t seem to have an interest in Gautier Cheese Gratin, which has cheese from his region. 

Gifts and Lost Items

Sylvain, of course, does have some items/like certain gifts that pertain to the philanderer in him. These include:

Gift: Dapper Handkerchief-  A handkerchief adorned with refined embroidery. Appreciated by fashionable men .

Lost Item: Unused Lipstick- Lipstick that would make an ideal gift for a young lady. It probably belongs to someone who likes wooing women.

Lost Item: Crumpled Love Letter- A carelessly discarded love letter. It probably belongs to someone with a complicated love life.

Sylvain clearly takes an interest in fashion, as well as his womanizing ways leaking into his lost items. We can see his casual nature when it comes to wooing the girls with the fact that the lost letter is “carelessly discarded”. 

But the rest of the gifts/ lost items paint Sylvain’s other side:

Gift: Landscape Painting- A landscape painting of magnificent Lake Teutates in the clearing fog. Appreciated by those who enjoy nature or art.

Gift: Board Game- A fun activity in which players compete using stones on a board. Appreciated by those who enjoy tactical thinking.

Lost Item: The History of Sreng- A book recording the history of the Sreng people. It probably belongs to someone who has ties to Sreng.

Despite his carefree side, many of us know that Sylvain is actually incredibly smart and takes an interest in making positive changes and taking his job seriously. The board game shows he enjoys tactical thinking, and his lost item, the History of Sreng, shows he is taking an interest in local politics and is keen to learn. As for the Landscape Painting, we can see that Sylvain enjoys art (as you will see later), and that he’s not all about women and lazing about. 

As for his disliked gifts:

Gift: Book of Crest Designs- A book containing the designs of 21 identified Crests. Appreciated by those who enjoy studying Crests.

Gift: Watering Can- A tool used for watering plants. Appreciated by those who enjoy gardening.

Gift: Floral Adornment- Flowers cut short so they can be worn decoratively. Appreciated by most ladies and those who like gardening.

Obviously, thanks to Sylvain’s history, disliking Crest-related gifts is no surprise. However, he also doesn’t seem to have an interesting in gardening, as he is not keen on the gardening-related gifts. 

Classroom- Instruct

Sylvain has three study requests:

You know, jousting is a popular sport in Faerghus. The ladies love a guy who can joust. Speaking of... Let's polish up my riding and lance skills.

The best way to impress people is to save them by diving into harm's way. That's what a Great Knight does, yeah? So let's focus on my axe and heavy armor skills.

I want to study reason and faith. What, surprised? Hey, I may be rough around the edges, but that doesn't mean I can't appreciate a little magic!

We learn a few things from these:

Jousting is popular in Faerghus. Makes sense for a knight-based nation. 

Sylvain seemingly wants to impress people by diving in harm’s way. But based on his general attitude, I think he really actually wants to just protect people and is pretending it’s all about the ladies. 

Sylvain wants to learn magic, both faith and reason. 

He also does not liked to be consoled- he wants critique to improve himself. 

Critique

Part I & Part II: I'll have to do better next time.

Console

Part I & Part II: OK. You can stop it.

Classroom- Questions and Answers

Sylvain has two questions he can ask in the classroom: 

This is from the academy phase, and we can see that Sylvain prefers it if you tell him to basically play hard to get. There are some interesting things regarding Ingrid’s dislike here, but this is about Sylvain... and apparently, he doesn’t want to change and doesn’t like it if you tell him to clean up his act. (Ingrid likes it, though). 

This one is from part two. Of course, it pertains to the war, and how depressing it is, and wants something to do to feel a bit better. Funnily enough, the other infamous nobles Ferdinand and Lorenz join him for this one! We can see they all have different tastes, but Sylvain is not interested in a cup of tea, but would rather ask out a girl. He’s not against talking a walk though, but no one seems to actually like it either. 

There are other questions that Sylvain joins in on, but I will add those when I eventually get to them. For now, I will just start with these two and update later. 

Group Tasks

Similar to the dining dialogue, Sylvain only has quotes with Dimitri and Ingrid, and not Felix despite having an ending with him. That said, Sylvain has more dialogue with Ingrid than Dimitri, so we will start with Dimitri first:

Stable Duty & Sky Watch

Support C

Sylvain: So, Your Highness, you're gonna keep the scolding to a minimum, yeah?

Dimitri: Why are you assuming you will be scolded? All you need to do is take things seriously.

Support B

Dimitri: Hey, Sylvain. I would like your help for today's work.

Sylvain: Heh, so you've finally learned you can't do everything yourself?

Results

Support C - Good

Sylvain: Professor... It's... It's finally over...

Dimitri: You are quick to tire out, Sylvain. You should consider building your stamina.

Support C - Perfect

Dimitri: Professor, the work is now complete. Sylvain did his job as well.

Sylvain: Was getting yelled at my job? Because, yeah. I did that.

Support B - Good

Sylvain: The result was fine... Though I thought we could have aimed even higher.

Dimitri: Agreed. Let's come up with a better plan next time.

Support B - Perfect

Sylvain: Professor, don't you think we did pretty well? His Highness here did most of it.

Dimitri: No, it was not all my doing. We made it thanks to your help, Sylvain.

These occur only when you pair them for stable duty and sky watch, which would be both activities the pair would find common interests in due to their personal budding talents and canon classes. We can see that Dimitri wants Sylvain to take things seriously, and Sylvain takes a more playful approach. Sylvain will also comment on Dimitri learning to not shoulder everything on his own, calling back a bit to Sylvain’s concern over Dimitri not being able to relax. 

Sylvain seems to be annoyed early on at Dimitri’s constant scolding, but this changes when their support improves, the two of them praising each other and hoping to improve together. 

Now for Ingrid:

Stable Duty & Sky Watch

Support C

Sylvain: Ugh, I'm with Ingrid? I'm not gonna get away with anything.

Ingrid: Stop messing around and get moving. You don't work, you don't eat.

Support B

Sylvain: Hey, Ingrid, this kind of work is definitely your thing, and I've got some urgent business, so...

Ingrid: I can't finish this all alone. Try to be helpful sometimes, Sylvain.

Support A

Sylvain: Me and Ingrid? Hm, I guess I'll get to work.

Ingrid: Well now, a rare and welcome proclamation. You're a real sight to behold when you try to be.

Weeding

Sylvain: Weeds have it tough. They sprout then get ripped right out of the ground. I'll do my best to be gentle.

Ingrid: Are you seriously trying to seduce a weed? Unbelievable.

Sylvain: What? No! Come on. I was just talking to myself.

Clearing Rubble

Sylvain: If I had to clear this out by myself, I think even I would get depressed...

Ingrid: Fine, fine, I'm not going to leave it all for you.

Sylvain: Let's do it quick though...before I change my mind. I'll grab the heavy-looking chunks. You get the rest.

Results

Support C - Good

Ingrid: Ah, seems we've finally finished.

Sylvain: That's it! I'm done! No more work for me, especially not with her...not in a million years.

Support C - Perfect

Sylvain: Hey, we did pretty well. All because I really went for it, of course.

Ingrid: You're a glib one, aren't you, Sylvain? I did the bulk of the work here, you know...

Support B - Good

Sylvain: I wouldn't call it a rousing success, but it went OK, all things considered. Right?

Ingrid: Well, it went OK once I rolled up my sleeves and helped you.

Support B - Perfect

Sylvain: Heh... How's that, Professor? If ya ask me, I think we did pretty well.

Ingrid: Yes, Sylvain put his back into it for once. Next thing we know, pigs will be taking to the air.

Support A - Good

Sylvain: I don't want to complain since we did OK and all, but that could have gone a lot better.

Ingrid: I think so too... Next time, I'll try even harder.

Support A - Perfect

Ingrid: Professor, here's the report. Perfect, don't you think?

Sylvain: Ingrid and I go way back. If we couldn't manage to cooperate, then what would that say about us?

Sylvain and Ingrid have dialogue no matter what they do. We can see, especially in the stable and sky watch, that at first they don’t really get along. Sylvain is tired of Ingrid’s pestering and Ingrid is tired of Sylvain being lazy. But as their support goes up, we see that they get along better. Ingrid starts praising Sylvain, and Sylvain starts putting more effort in.

Sylvain also seems to be a bit melancholy about the weeds, noting that they start to take life before someone takes takes it away from them. 

Finally, just some fun default stuff. 

Uses keigo when speaking to

Byleth, Edelgard, Dimitri, Seteth, Hanneman, Manuela, Gilbert, Alois, Catherine, Shamir, Jeralt, Rhea, Jeritza, Anna

Spoken to with keigo by

Bernadetta, Dorothea, Petra, Ashe, Ignatz, Lysithea, Marianne, Flayn, Constance

“Keigo” is polite speech, used when addressing people who are in a station in life above you, whether in title or simply out of respect. For instance, he uses keigo for those who are older than him and teachers, like Manuela and Hanneman, and for those who are in higher stations, like Dimitri or Edelgard. 

Those who speak keigo to him consider him of higher status, or someone worthy of respect. Looking at this list, I would say status. 

Tea Party- Favorite Tea

The Tea Party is a pretty big section, so I won’t cover everything but I’ll try to touch on what seems important. Feel free to let me know if you notice more! 

Anyways, Sylvain seems to have a pension for black teas, although not all black teas listed in the game. He prefers Bergamot Tea (commonly known as Earl Grey) which is popular among nobles (he shares this like with Edelgard, Lorenz, Hanneman, Constance, and Anna, most of whom are nobles, and in particular are nobles with particular taste) and Seiros Tea, another black tea that is actually from south Almyra, interestingly enough! He shares this like with Ferdinand, Lorenz, Ignatz, Yuri, and Anna. Both of these teas have a three star rarity- not the cheapest tea in the list, but not terribly rare either. 

He will note that the tea is expensive if you give him an expensive tea, and perhaps seems a bit uncomfortable with you going out of your way.

This tea must have been expensive. I'm sorry if I made you go out of your way.

Tea Party- Talk

Sylvain has a number of quotes from talking, although most of them aren’t too terribly interesting. However, some have some great insight: 

Is something wrong with my face? A bruise on my cheek? Heh... Nah, Professor. Everything's fine.

Everyone has their own reason to fight. At least I'm honest about mine.

Opera, art, literature, I love 'em. They always give you something to talk about.

Sometimes, I'm surprised how warm the monastery is. I wish my parents' home was like this.

Sylvain is an interesting guy because in some ways, he’s not honest and in others, he is. For instance, he insists that you do not worry about his injury. Don’t worry about him. He’s not being honest about any pain he has- this includes his distastes for a lot of women chasing him despite his philandering. However, he is honest in others in his world views. He’s a lot like Dimitri when it comes to trying to see the other side, as seen in “everyone has their own reason to fight”. This is displayed in his other quotes throughout the game too, although we won’t be touching on those. 

As as per the gift of art he likes, we can see here that he’s actually very much into culture and art. He likes them, and likes to talk about them. 

And finally, some insight into his family. Sylvain’s relationship with his father is complex (as per the Blue Lion tradition) and here we can see that he doesn’t view his family home as warm- both perhaps literally in that it’s a cold climate, and figuratively. 

I won’t be going over the like options because there are too many, but I will take note of a few options that make him blush:

Working together...

The opera...

Cute monks...

Some insight things into Sylvain. Obviously, as he likes the opera, the topic of it will be among his favorite. Sylvain likes people working together (although he himself is a bit of a loner, he wants people to work together and talk things through like Dimitri does) and finally, the cute monks... 

I’m taking special note of that because in English, traditionally monks are male. However, the game seems to use monks for both men and women (monks in Greek can be used for both), and the Japanese word used instead is 修道士. Someone with superior Japanese can correct me, but it would seem that this is a masculine word, used for men, especially when using the kanji  士, which means “gentlemen” or “samurai”. 

However, as stated before, the game uses monk for both men and women. I checked the files and even the female monks use  修道士. So, while people claim this is proof he is bi, I would not call it a strong indicator personally (At this time I still think he has a thing for Felix, don’t get me wrong). 

Advice Box

Part I

I wonder if I'll ever find a partner who understands I don't mean any harm when I flirt with others. Does someone like that really exist?

You're bound to meet someone open-minded someday.

That's a dream that will never come true.

Have you considered giving up on flirting?

I'm hesitant to invite a girl to my room in the middle of the night with You Know Who living right next door. I'm terrified of the scolding I'd get the next day.

Maybe I'll rethink the room assignments.

It makes sense that she would be angry with you.

Perhaps it's time you and I discussed your behavior.

Part II

I'm weary from this ceaseless fighting. I wonder if I'll ever meet a kind, beautiful young lady who can cure my hardened heart.

You will one day. I'm sure of it.

Save the dreams for when you're sleeping.

A woman like that wouldn't go for you.

All we do is battle. The fighting never stops, and it's turning everyone's disposition dour. Even the ladies! We should throw a banquet to lift everyone's spirit.

Good idea. I'll see what I can do.

It's too soon to let down our guard.

How selfless of you.

Part I notes aren’t too interesting, other than that Sylvain is worried about Dimitri (his neighbor in dorms) hearing his rendezvous with the ladies and getting a scolding. 

Part II is more interesting. Sylvain’s second note is about lifting up everyone’s spirits regarding the war, and that throwing a banquet might help make everyone feel better. He prefers if Byleth agrees and will start to make arrangements, rather than getting praise for his selflessness. 

And for now, that’s all! I will update as I go, but for now I hope you enjoyed this!

Suggestions and new info welcome. 

[takaraphoenix]

Review: The Rise of Skywalker

Gotta preface this before we get to the actual review for this movie.

Because... I’ve seen so many people claim that this was sooo bad and sooo badly written and honestly, ever since I joined this fandom, I’ve seen so much hate toward the sequels and so many people claim how they’re “ruining Star Wars” and I feel like... a whole lot of people really need to divorce themselves from the idea that Star Wars ever was this flawless franchise. Because it wasn’t.

Even before the sequels, the majority of this fandom has actively hated half the movies in this franchise. The prequels get so much shit all the time. And even now with the new movies, trilogies aside, Rogue One is relatively widely liked but Solo gets the prequel treatment of having a certain part of the fandom love it wildly and the majority dislike it.

Star Wars, from the very first one on, was always a mixed bag of good moments and bad movies, good writing and bad writing. It was always just a very silly, fun space adventure and I don’t really see why there are these insanely high expectations for it are coming from, because I don’t see a base for them in the previous movies...?

That being said, I think that Rise of Skywalker was a very worthy ending for the universe. And yes, not trilogy, universe. I know they’ll force more Star Wars, but let’s be real... the last Skywalker died, this is the end of this saga. And I think it was a good ending, it came full-circle in many aspects.

I joked about how Rey would find her dad just for him to die since so far she’s two for two in the “finding mentor and mentor dies within this movie” category and while... they didn’t find her dad, she did build a mentor-relationship with Leia. Who then died.

And I know this one is... different than the others, because Carrie Fisher died, rather unexpectedly so. I wonder if it had changed things had she lived.

I was genuinely surprised to see her in the movie, to be honest. I had expected the obnoxious opening text to summarize how Leia made a heroic sacrifice and the movie itself then opening to a large, dignified funeral scene for both, the character and the actress who played her.

I liked that they brought Lando into this; with everyone else having returned, that was really important. And I kind of like the little thing they set up at the end there, that Lando would take the enslaved kids and help them find their way back to the families they had been separated from.

Ben’s redemption was absolutely no surprise whatsoever, seriously this is a Disney movie and it’s a Star Wars movie, they were always going to redeem him anyway. The Reylo, admittedly, was a bit of a surprise.

With the whole thing where Finn really wanted to tell Rey something and how Finn and Rose were at a distance now after the last movie, I half thought they may be pushing toward that direction after all.

(I also half thought they were going to go Poe/Rey because... for some reason they decided to have that dynamic just fully mirror Han/Leia... even though it seemed wildly OoC to me personally, for the both of them, to be so... short-tempered with someone?)

But mentioning Rose, that was one thing I didn’t like. After how important she had been last movie, she was just completely reduced to background character now and it was very undeserved. She didn’t partake in the missions, though they had them at least ask her to go along, she barely got anything to do and didn’t really get to interact with any of them, not even really Finn. And don’t get me wrong, I didn’t want that romance, but I definitely wanted that friendship - and I had hopes that now that they were all united, I’d get some female bonding and girls being friends between Rey and Rose. But they kind of... forgot that they made her a main character last movie.

I think that hinting at Poe having a past-lover-he-may-still-love was tiresome and unnecessary, but it’s Disney so I genuinely wasn’t expecting that not to happen. Especially with how wildly loved Stormpilot was; I mean come on that was the only reason the Finn/Rose happened last movie already, because Disney got uncomfortable with people shipping Them Gays. My shipper-heart however absolutely took the co-generals and ran with it.

(Don’t get me started on that bullshit 0.2 second scene of two women kissing in the background. Genuinely fuck you, Disney, that’s not representation, that’s having something so you can try to defend yourself when people call you homophobes for always forgetting gays exist, but it was little enough so you can easily cut it out to milk China for money.)

I wished they would have... given Finn more. When we had that scene of him alone with that other deserting Stormtrooper and they talked and clicked so well, I kind of hoped she was his sister - since they had taken all the children. And I don’t know, I’m still kind of really hung up on the whole child slavery thing and all the trauma Finn had gone through; I wish he would have gotten something as closure.

There was one thing I genuinely absolutely hated and that was the bullshit Palpatine thing.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s still 100% on brand for Star Wars and I legit should have seen it coming after they plastered his ugly mug onto every poster, but that doesn’t make it good writing.

However - to stay in line with my opening preface - it already wasn’t good writing the first time around. I still dislike the whole “Luke, I am your father” nonsense. I absolute loathe the trope of “hero has to face off dark family member they didn’t even know was a family member”, it’s so cheap and forced because just how fucking likely is it, that all circumstances led them there?

That Rey, of all people, ran into Finn and got to the Resistance to get involved in this whole war to face off against her evil grandpa? C’mon.

Really genuinely from the bottom of my heart would have preferred Rey Nobody.

But that’s... the things you gotta accept in Star Wars, so I digress.

What I am absolutely not over is how they just straight up made Reylo soulmates...? Like? They really did that? I mean, come on, explaining their literal mind-link as them being two halves of the same and as bringing life? How was that anything but a description of soulmates...? Amazing.

I’m very salty about them killing Ben off though.

I absolutely hate that lazy writing tool of taking a villain, making him do a redeeming thing and bahm they will now be celebrated a hero without having to do much work on making up for past wrong-doings. Instead of living a life of doing good to make up for their past, they just do the Heroic Sacrifice and the writers are done here. (Side-eying Luke Castellan particularly hard here.)

He should have lived. Especially with how they set it up! They both give life, they both belong together to give life? How did that not conclude in them sharing a life-force...? Ben should have lived so he can do good in the future.

I like when previously villainous characters have to work to make up for their past deeds. I really do.

One last thing before I’m done! I HAVE A FAVORITE DROID! I LOVE D-0. HE’S A GOOD BOY. *^*

One of the most obnoxious things about the original trilogy, for me, were the droids. I do not like either C-3PO or R2D2 (yes, R2 looks adorable, but the untranslated beeping, especially in longer sequences and conversations, was just obnoxious).

BB-8 is adorable and has that dog-like charm to him, but that D-0 actually talks and is so cute? Like, unused to human kindness but slowly learning about it? Now that is a good droid.

So... I think that’s all I have to say about the movie? It was a good ending to the saga, it went full-circle by revealing that Palpatine was behind it all along and we got rid of that bitch for good now, it gave a lot of closure and had some really got points in it.