#also yes this train of thought has also occurred for mace

[luna-the-cretar]

Now that I really think about it, I wonder how much of my adoration of the “big scary guy finds and adopts small child” trope is trauma, and how much of it is unga bunga monkey brain going “oh, he treats these children wonderfully. He’d make a wonderful father”

Hm.

[nevertheless-moving]

Suicidal Misunderstanding X

Star Wars Time Travel AU #27

Part I - - - - - Part II - - - - - Part III - - - - - Part IV - - - - - Part V - - -  - - Part VI - - - - - Part VII - - - - - Part VIII - - - - - Part IX

“I realize this is incredibly difficult,” the Nautolan Soul Healer said calmly. “But in order for us to help Obi-Wan, we need to determine the cause of his current disconnection with reality. Based on the drug panel, and convenient surveillance, we have, to the best of our ability, ruled out temporary psychosis brought on by a drug interaction.”

Cody stiffened further, not sure how to react to anything anymore. When a brother tried to end his own life, it was usually obvious why.

Sife Aerdo continued on. “There have, of course, been cases of Jedi Seers giveing into their fears of the future, or losing their sense of reality, but every case study involving such an extreme reaction was the result a gradual degradation over the course of many years. Nevertheless, it seems clear that Obi-Wan experienced a vision, and it may have impacted his breakdown to some extent. The more we know, the more successful any attempts to convince him of reality will be.”

Bant furrowed her brow in thought, trying to replay three decades of increasingly vague discussions of nightmares.

”Considering the high profile nature of his position, we cannot rule out some kind of psychological attack, perhaps even a darksider incursion.

Anakin leaned forward intently, the inside of his skull buzzing with white noise.

"All that being said, we must be prepared to treat Obi-Wan’s self harm as the  culmination of a long and quiet mental health struggle. He would not be the first in the Order to disguise such a thing with durasteel self-discipline.”

At that, Bant and Mace took a moment to release their feelings to the force, while Anakin raised his shields defensively.

Master Aerdo finally hesitated, before continuing in the same smooth tone. “I would ordinarily prefer to structure this kind of conversation quite differently- allow Obi-Wan time to share his feelings first and invite you each separately to support him in the healing process. But he’s gone from fighting sedatives and force compulsions as though the fate of the galaxy depended on it, to a self-induced coma. All while barely lucid, yet still somehow maintaining Master Class mental shielding. We need to get a better understanding of his mental landscape if we’re going to even begin the process of treatment."

It is necessary to note that everyone in that room had led, in one way or another, a somewhat miserable life. This was the main reason none of them could claim that the next five hours were the worst they had ever experienced. 

“But he’s always had terrible sleeping habits.” Anakin said hoarsely.

“Yes, but I think they got worse after Qui-Gon passed,” Bant argued, not sure what point she was making. 

“When I pointed out he couldn’t be getting more than three hours a night he told me that he could manage on meditation” Cody offered irritably.

“That’s technically true,” Mace confirmed. “If the Master in question is well-balanced otherwise”

“So its like his eating habits, crushing responsibilities, and repeated exposure to violence, then? Completely fine for a Jedi, in less it’s not, in which case it’s a major red flag?” 

“I think it would help to establish a timeline.“

Aerdo actually dredged up old mission reports, leading to the group reluctantly contacting Ashoka for her memories of Mortis.

At her Master’s insistence, she told them everything she remembered, hazy as it was, nervously elaborating on her own memories of falling. To her confusion, Master Windu all but brushed past that, assuring her that the important thing with stepping into darkness was the choice to the return to the light. Anakin bizarrely agreed with Windu. Out loud. Unnerved by the cooperation more than anything, she put her holographic foot down and demanded to know what was going on. 

Anakin took the comm-link into a separate room to speak privately.

Upon return, he informed the group (with a visibly red and puffy face) that Kit would be escorting her back from Mount Cala cleanup early, daring anyone to disagree. Windu nodded and the conversation continued on.

Together they rewatched holo-footage of Obi-Wan laughing amongst Ghost company the night before last, and debated reports from psychometric investigators who had scoured the cantina as well as Obi-Wan’s personal quarters for traces of illicit substances. Between that and another drug panel, they were finally forced to conclude that despite the timing, the alcohol at most confused Obi-Wan’s perception of a vision, or possibly simply loosened his tongue.

Bant prodded Cody to repeat every word from the holocar ride to the temple, taking furious notes. Cody was unable to stop the heat that crawled up his face.

Just when the looming horror of Obi-Wan actually preparing to intentionally die started to break over Anakin, Windu interjected.

“You don’t see what I do,” the Harun Kal said grimly. “Something galaxy-sized shattered around Obi-Wan and he didn’t break from it. The closest comparison I have is Master Yaddle’s presence when she meditated on her confinement. He’s chosen to keep going, even when, quite frankly, death would be a release. We’re missing something fundamental.”

“He said there were ‘other dark forces at work.’ Even if the fight was objectively hopeless... there’s no way he would choose to die because of it!” Anakin agreed vehemently, shaking off morbid fears.

“But he did choose to die.” Cody said quietly. And the wind went out of Anakin’s sails.

“Lets go back.”

Anakin gritted his teeth as they picked apart everything ‘unusual’ Obi-Wan had said and done leading up to his visit with Bant.

“What exactly did he...”

“So Plo Koon was able to get a read through his shields?”

“Did he have anything to eat?”

“How did that compare to...”

“When he's mentioned things in the future...did it seem good or bad to you?” Bant asked.

“Bad.” Cody and Anakin said in unison. Remembering the trip to the temple Cody spoke again, “Definitely bad.”

“Right. When we were talking he sometimes used the wrong tenses for things, people. I confronted him on not knowing ‘when’ he was after Knight Skywalker left. He told me that he knew what was real, but he was “enjoying not fully living in the moment” he also said that he intended to “wake up”

“Enjoying? That’s the exact word he used?” Cody asked incredulous. 

“He did seem...mostly happy yesterday. Giddy, at points.” Anakin said, slumping in on himself.

Bant looked at her notes once more before addressing the group.

“This isn’t vision psychosis in any manner I’ve heard of before...but I think I might have a theory. He used to have intense visions when we were kids; plenty of us did sometimes, but Obi-Wan would be unable to sleep after. What terrified him more than anything was the uncertainty that he might make the wrong choice- even when the vision was about something good, or neutral. His visions gradually stopped coming around puberty. We just had a conversation about this a few months ago- how relieved he was to only have to manage flashes of precognition. If he had a random, horrifying vision of a terrible future...suicide wouldn’t be his reaction. It’s too final.”

“Even if he blamed himself for what he saw coming?” Mace asked.

“Especially if he blamed himself.” Bant said. 

“What’s your theory?” Aerdo prodded.

“What if...what if he was telling the truth when he said he could separate out what was real and what was not? What if there was no distortion or blurring between now and then? What if he was just wrong about which was which?”

“That...would be a very extreme and abnormal manifestation of force-induced psychosis. He has training in distinguishing reality from visions. The continued presence of his mental shielding means that the fabric of his mind can’t be so horrifically collapsed in on itself.” 

“What if the vision was actually that realistic?” Bant said, pushing back against the soul healer. “So detailed and vivid that it effectively was a reality in itself, and everything else, all of us...”

“Were just memories” Anakin finished. “It would...actually explain pretty much everything. You said he wanted to wake up and when...when I found him.” He stopped, swallowing. “When I found him, he argued with me...what if he wasn’t trying to hurt himself? If you’re right...that would mean I found him trying to get back to reality.”

“It could explain his behavior in the halls...his desperation to wake...” Sife mused “But it runs counter to every other experience I’ve had with those managing prophetic visions. Master Windu, could that explain the shatterpoints you saw?”

“I’m not certain. It would have to have been extraordinarily real to create the echos of Shattering I witnessed. I don’t know if that depth of vision has occurred before, but then again, many things are possible in the force.”

“You really think he might have been...trying to wake up from dream? By killing himself?!” Cody asked incredulous.

“If that ends up being what happened I am going to give him such shit. That is the worst way to end a vision.” Anakin replied.

“Yes. It is.” Bant said pointedly. “That’s why it’s a last resort, after every other attempt to wake fails.” 

They all sat in silence, processing various implications. Cody was unnerved by another terrifying insight into force powers, as well as the idea that the General might vividly remember Cody being inexplicably mind-controlled into trying to kill him. Anakin was trying to understand what this would mean for them, and the conversations he had thought they had had. Did...any of it count, if he thought he was offering it to a hallucination?

“Alright, this is a valuable working idea, but let’s make sure to examine everything with an open mind before we draw any more conclusions. Anakin, what happened after you left the healers office?”

Obi-Wan’s critique of the practicalities of visiting a soul healer could be and was interpreted multiple ways. The incongruity of peacekeepers in war sparked a rehash of earlier discussion. More apologies. Self identifying as ‘crazy’ inspired new debate, especially in the context of the new theory. 

“When I saw him enter the fountain room I assumed he had had a brutal run-in with  dark force user.” Windu explained. “Based on everything we’ve gone over, I don’t understand when...but some of the more insidious sith compulsions work by taking whatever small anger or hurt you feel and magnifying them until they consume you. If Obi-Wan was already experiencing self loathing...”

Cody sucked in a breath. “Then a Sith mind suggestion would bring him to commit suicide. It...sounds like something he might do, if he was partially in control. Take the blow rather than let himself be used as a weapon against anyone else, even his worst enemy.”

“Hells, it could have been an even vaguer compulsion, driving him to attack the person he hates the most,” Bant added darkly.

Anakin buried his head in his hands, trying to hold it together. He couldn’t afford to lose control or get angry. Hells, getting angry at Obi-Wan for ‘failing him’ when in pain could be the reason Obi-Wan was currently in the healing halls. The man said he loved him unconditionally, then practically had a breakdown over how much Anakin pushed that unconditional love to the breaking point, then killed himself. How was he supposed to-

“Anakin? Are you alright to continue?” someone said.

“Yes. No. There’s more I have to tell you...I don’t know if it will help but - it was hurting Obi-Wan...I...”

“Let’s just take it one step at a time. What happened after you left Mace?”

Apparently even Cody somehow knew more about Bruck Chun than Anakin. Master Windu and Eerin told different sides of the same sad story, which spiraled back into a conversation about Obi-Wan’s inadequacy issues, which somehow devolved into a long rant about Qui-Gon Jinn that Master Windu had apparently been holding back for years. 

“My apologies.” He said afterwards, clearing his throat as the group stared, taken aback. “Old grievances. Go on Anakin, what did happened after you got to the ‘secret spot.’”

“He...was skirting around whatever was bothering him...I pushed him...told him I wanted to help...he said I couldn’t...because it was me...because of what I...”

Anakin stood up suddenly, feeling the walls of the room closing in.

“I’m sorry- I’m sorry I-” 

He ran out.

He turned around almost immediately, pacing in the small corridor, knowing he couldn’t leave, simply needing a minute to catch his breath.

Master Windu followed him out after a moment, not saying anything, just standing there. Watching him.

“What!” Anakin finally snapped. “What do you have to say that I don’t know already!”

“Knight Skywalker-”

“Don’t call me that! I DON’T DESERVE-” 

Anakin let out a frustrated snarl, punching a wall. The crumble of stone beneath this fist briefly made him feel better, but then he remembered Obi-Wan’s heartbroken expression in the light of an underworldly glow, and the tiny, choked sound he heard when the healers moved him and Anakin just...collapsed, falling to his knees.

Master Windu sank down gracefully beside him.

“Anakin. This isn’t about attachment issues, is it.”

“Not really, no. I mean, maybe you’ll blame attachment but it’s more about...”

“Anger.”

Anakin looked up at that, trying to regain the meditative calm he had felt for a glimmering moment yesterday, right in-between making peace in the cave and everything burning to ash. 

“You know that I have had my own struggles with anger. It is how and why I came to develop Vaapad.” 

“Yes, but you’ve Mastered your anger. And you’ve never...never given in to hate.”

A beat passed and Windu watched some of Skywalker’s familiar breaking points flicker into view. 

“You’ve done something. Something you know the Jedi won’t forgive.”

“Obi-Wan forgave me.” Anakin said, whispering. “He said that even though I couldn’t fix what I did he loved me anyway and I just needed to...to honestly regret what I did and not do it again. I told him I’d get rid of my lightsaber and I meant it and...I thought he forgave me. I was ready to go to the Council with him, come clean about everything. And then I left him alone to get dinner and when I came back...he was holding my lightsaber. My lightsaber.” 

Anakin buried his face in his hands, shuddering with creeping cold.

“I’m not going to critique your and Obi-Wan’s attachment to each other right now. I’m well aware that much of the order has turned to personal ties to maintain their stability given the ongoing horrors of war. I am, for many reasons, wary of the risks this brings us, yet it is also true that risks do not automatically mean failure. I myself have mastered my emotions in a different manner than conventional wisdom councils.” 

Windu spoke carefully. For all that he and Anakin had similar relationships with the force, they rarely saw eye to eye on any given subject. At a certain point, Mace had accepted that the volatile young man was determined to find the worst possible interpretation for anything he said. And Mace was not the order’s most patient diplomat.

“As for your crime, whatever it is, l will tell you this: Unless you choose to renounce the code and leave our number, you will be treated as a Jedi Knight, subject to our protections, as well as our judgement. You will receive appropriate mental counseling. If you are judged to be a danger to those around you, your actions will be curtailed and monitored, possibly through temporary confinement.  The Jedi do not believe in punitive measures for their own sake, but you may be required to provide restitution to those you harmed, perhaps indefinitely. 

Silence hung perilously between them. Windu watched a tremor run through the unfathomable kaleidoscopic of shatterpoints that had orbited Skywalker since he was a boy. A small one broke inward, and an attached tangle of larger, darker ones fell away, crumbling to dust. The rest faded from view, invisible for the moment. A choice had been made, some decision that closed off at least one path to the darkside.

“There’s no one to make restitutions to.”

“...You’re going to have to elaborate on that.”

“Let’s go back inside- I don’t want to do this twice.”

They returned to the increasingly hated meeting room.

Anakin spoke in an outpouring of words about love and hate, about misplaced revenge and now uncertain forgiveness. When he finally finished, the room was deathly silent.

The three Jedi sat quietly while Cody pinched the bridge of his nose. “I guess this is why Jedi have the no attachment rule, huh? I admit I never really got it, but I suppose even if I-”

Bant abruptly lunged up, fumbling to bring her lightsaber to Anakin’s neck. Everyone jumped to their feet, except for Anakin, who stared at Bant with a wretched expression.

“MASTER EERIN! This is not-”

“Did you do it?” she asked, ignoring the Master of the Order.

“Bant!”

“It was my first thought after I saw him. We all rushed in expecting a fight, or a bomb, only to find you, insane, and him with a hole next to his heart. I didn’t want to believe it of course, but you’ve always had a violent streak that Obi-Wan, force help him, couldn’t quite soothe away. A fight gone wrong. Master Windu said it was suicide, and I believed him, and I’ve been trying to make sense of that ever since. But Mace found you after, didn’t he? After you felt guilty? Did you think he was going to turn on you?”

“Bant Eerin, you are dangerously-”

“No.” Anakin whispered.

“Obviously I might be why. But I didn’t- I couldn’t. I know I’m not good but I can’t even imagine- holding a saber against him like that. Kriff, do you not get how much I can’t handle losing people I love? I was insane when you saw me because I saw someone trying to kill Obi-Wan and I couldn’t even fight them.”  

Bant held his gaze for several lingering seconds, deactivated her saber and dropping it with a clatter. They stared at each other, breathing heavily and not blinking. She returned to her seat, moving jerkily. “I apologize Knight Skywalker. That was uncalled for.” 

“I wish I could say I wouldn’t have done the same thing in your shoes” he responded lowly. Bant made a tiny, unintelligible noise in reply. 

Cody collapsed back into his chair, holstering his blaster.  “Alright then...so after you finished sitting in the fountain room...what happened next?”

Everyone stared at him.

“What?”

“You’re handling Anakin’s confession somewhat dispassionately. We’re simply surprised.” Mace said slowly, returning to his seat at the same time as Master Aerdo fell into theirs.

Cody shifted uncomfortably. “The vod were trained in a wide range of enemy suppression tactics. While we’re extremely glad the Jedi have never asked us to employ them, I’m not...unfamiliar with this scale of deliberate slaughter. At least in the hypothetical, sir.”

“I see.” Aerdo said. “That is a valuable insight to have, thank you. Knight Skywalker-”

“Just...call me Anakin. Or Skywalker.”

“Anakin. When did this happen?”

“About two years ago, immediately before the First Battle of Geonosis.”

“And have you had any similar experiences with giving into the darkside since?” they asked placidly.

“I don’t think so but...we went to war the next day and....I don’t know if I’ve stopped fighting since it- since I did what I did.”

“Hmm. Anakin, would you mind stepping outside the room and waiting in the corridor for a moment please?” 

He bit his tongue, tasting blood, and quietly walked out the door while the Masters decided his fate. He leaned back against a wall, desperately wanting to see Padme. 

To his surprise, the door opened barely a few minutes later, and he was politely invited back in.

“Anakin.” Master Windu spoke. “Thank you for telling us this. It’s an important insight into Obi-Wan’s feelings right now, and I recognize that you could have kept it a secret. As Head of the Order, and with the advice of a Senior Soul Healer, I have made a decision. You will be assigned a personal soul healer, who you will start seeing tomorrow. Commander Cody pointed out that over nearly two years of continuous warfare, you have maintained some of the the lowest trooper casualty units of any division, by a significant margin if we evaluate based on mission risk level. Your civilian and enemy casualties will be reviewed, but even considering constant war, since your massacre of the Tuskens, you have clearly managed to at least... direct your violence away from the innocent. We do not consider you a threat to the inhabitants of the world. For the time being, I see no real benefit to limiting or tracking your behavior within the temple or on planet, but you are barred from leaving orbit. I have decided to delay a full reckoning before the council until such time that your former Master is well enough to provide his own opinion. Give me just cause, and I will have you confined to a force-suppressing cell. Do you understand?”

Anakin nodded, bowing in acknowledgment. All things considered, it was...honestly better than he expected.

“Now, as Cody” Windu paused. “My apologies, as the Commander was saying-” 

“Cody’s fine, sir” Cody said, wrung out in a way different from anything Kamino had trained him for.

“...I think we can all consider ourselves on a first name basis at this point.” Bant said with a snort. She paused. “That includes you Anakin. I really don’t know how to handle what you did but kark it, I don’t want to hate you. For myself.”

Everyone nodded.

“As Cody was saying, what happened next?”

Peace. Comfort. Hunger. A warning in the force...

-

“I tried to pull the saber back but his finger was already on the igniter...” 

“You probably saved his life. Even a second later-”

“I know, that’s almost the worst part.”

-

“-his neck”

“Why would he change weapons?”

“What if-”

-

“He said what to you and Healer Che?”

“That has to support the detailed vision idea, think about-”

“I’m sorry, Emperor?”

-

“I think we’re done.”

Anakin stared blankly at Sife. “But we didn’t figure anything out.”

“Not conclusively, but we’re unlikely to make any more progress, you’ve given me enough information to preform a meaningful meditative scan, or guide a conversation, should Obi-Wan wake, or navigate through his mind, should we decide to make a more decisive attempt at his shields.”

“Master Aerdo... I leave the final judgement up to you, but I strongly urge you to make a more decisive attempt. I am more convinced now than I was...” Mace glanced at the chronometer “five hours ago that this was motivated by a specific, external stimuli, likely dark. Do you disagree?”

“No.” they said with a sigh. “But I don’t want to underestimate how much underlying factors might have contributed to his response to stimuli, including underlying factors that none of you were aware of.”

The Nautolan Soul Healer stood up, tucking their hands into their sleeves to address the room with classical Jedi serenity. It was a little irritating.

“In any case, we all need to sleep, eat, and meditate. Master Eerin, you have the rest of the day off, I've cleared it with Master Che already. Master Windu, I leave the final judgement up to you, and I am aware that your duties as Master of the Order are unceasing, but I urge you to take some time to center yourself before returning to the council. Commander Cody, I would be more than willing to arrange soul healing for you or any of the Vod, please let me know. Anakin, you will receive a comm later today with further details on your future healing sessions. 

They bowed low, then glided out the door.

Bant stood next, bowed individually to each soul, and sped walked out.

Commander Cody cleared his throat awkwardly, “Mace- what should I tell the troops? We’re supposed to have command briefings later tonight.”

“If anyone asks about General Kenobi, tell them its classified.” I’ll schedule a briefing on the subject. Now go find Captain Rex and take care of yourself, that’s an order.”

Cody saluted, first to the high General, then to Anakin.

Finally it was just Mace and Anakin.

“Is there anyone who you trust who I can call to stay with you.” Master Windu asked.

“I can manage on my own” Anakin replied, not willing to give the Master of the Order anything else he could use against him, even after everything.

Master Windu held back a sigh.

He continued once more, making a deliberate attempt to soften his tone. “Anakin- I know we’ve had our differences, but this is not a trick, nor a trap. You’ve suffered a series of great shocks in the last 24 hours and handled them with immense maturity. I myself am struggling to deal with the emotional fallout.”

Anakin looked up at that, surprised. He didn’t seem to be struggling, but maybe that was what made him a good Jedi Master...

“As I told you before, I am not going to begrudge you the comfort of attachment. I’m rather convinced it would do you more harm than good at this point. I don’t want you flying right now, and you don’t have to be alone. I hope we have come to a better understanding today, but I doubt my presence is suddenly a comfort, though please correct me if I’m wrong. Now is there someone I can call?”

-

Padme ended her call with Master Windu extremely discomfited. She had barely heard from Anakin since he ran out on her the night before last to take care of an apparently extremely drunk Obi-Wan. He had messaged her a few times that night, promising to make it up to her, but had been comm-silent since. She had been starting to get worried, and now the Master of the Order was asking her to pick him up from the temple. Fortunately, she had already cleared most of her meetings for the week well in advance (Courascant leave usually meant THEM time, not that she was jealous of Obi-Wan, of course).

The speeder ride back from the temple was silent. All Anakin would say was that he would explain everything once they were in ‘a secure location.’ 

The door to the apartment had scarcely closed behind them when Anakin fell into her arms, shaking.

“Anakin, talk to me love, what’s wrong?” She gently guided him to the couch, arranging him so she could hold him protectively.

“Obi-Wan tried to kill himself.”

She let out a harsh gasp, “No! He can’t have, he would never-” 

“I got to him in time, but Padme... he was holding a lightsaber to his heart. It was...really close” He burrowed deeper into the folds of her dress, and she gripped him fiercely.

“Oh gods, is he-”

“He’s physically healing, but he’s still...not all there. I spent all of today locked in a room, trying to figure out if it was a Sith Attack, or an insane vision, or..or me”

“Anakin! What do you mean ‘me’ - Obi-Wan loves you, you-”

“I know.” Anakin interrupted her again, knowing he was being unfair; he was just too exhausted to be patient.

“He told me loved me. He...he...found out about what I did to the Tusken village, You should have seen his face, Padme, he was horrified, but he still told me he loved me, and he was willing to forgive me, even though he shouldn’t”

“Of course he forgave you,” Padme whispered. “You’re not a monster, Anakin, I know you would never do something like that again.”

"And then after we talked, I left him alone and he-” Anakin choked out into her dress.

Tears ran down her face, heart breaking. “That’s- that’s horrible. Anakin...it must have have been a attack, Obi-Wan wouldn’t do that.” she said urgently.

He pulled away, horrified. “I made you cry. I made Obi-Wan cry too. I’m sorry- Padme please, promise me you won’t-”

She grabbed the sides of his head. 

Her nails bit into the soft skin behind his ears as she pulled him down so they were face-to-face, vowing, “Never. I swear by the force itself, I will never choose death over life.”

He let out a relieved sigh, eyes fluttering closed.

“Now you,” she demanded

“As long as I have anyone to live for, I swear by the force, I will never choose death over life.”

She pulled him the rest of the way in for a bruising kiss. He lifted her, and they desperately clung at one another as he carried her to bed. They continued like that, clinging and grasping, until exhaustion carried him to sleep. She pulled the covers over top them both and curled around him defensively as the day slowly faded away.

Part XI

[satansjit]

Reflections on the Color of My Skin

By Neil DeGrasse Tyson

Wednesday, June 3, 2020

My colleague had other encounters with the law that he shared later that night, but his first story started a chain reaction among us. One by one we each recalled multiple incidents of being stopped by the police. None of the accounts were particularly violent or life-threatening, although it was easy to extrapolate to highly publicized cases that were. One of my colleagues had been stopped for driving too slowly. He was admiring the local flora as he drove through a New England town in the autumn. Another had been stopped because he was speeding, but only by five miles per hour. He was questioned and then released without getting a ticket. Still another colleague had been stopped and questioned for jogging down the street late at night.

As for me, I had a dozen different encounters to draw from. There was the time I was stopped late at night at an underpass on an empty road in New Jersey for having changed lanes without signaling. The officer told me to get out of my car and questioned me for ten minutes around back with the headlights of his squad car brightly illuminating my face. Is this your car? Yes. Who is the woman in the passenger seat? My wife. Where are you coming from? My parent’s house. Where are you going? Home. What do you do for a living? I am an astrophysicist at Princeton University. What’s in your trunk? A spare tire, and a lot of other greasy junk. He went on to say that the “real reason” why he stopped me was because my car’s license plates were much newer and shinier than the 17-year-old Ford that I was driving. The officer was just making sure that neither the car nor the plates were stolen.

Among my other stories, I had been stopped by campus police while transporting my home supply of physics textbooks into my newly assigned office in graduate school. They had stopped me at the entrance to the physics building where they asked accusatory questions about what I was doing. It was 11:30 p.m. Open-topped boxes of graduate math and physics textbooks filled the trunk. And I was transporting them into the building, which left me wondering how often that scenario shows up in police training videos.

We went on for two more hours. But before we retired for the night we searched for common denominators among the stories. We had all driven different cars—some were old, others were new, some were undistinguished, others were high performance imports. Some police stops were in the daytime, others were at night. Taken one-by-one, each encounter with the law could be explained as an isolated incident where, in modern times, we all must forfeit some freedoms to ensure a safer society for us all. Taken collectively, however, you would think the cops had a vendetta against physicists because that was the only profile we all had in common. In this parade of automotive stop-and-frisks, one thing was for sure, the stories were not singular, novel moments playfully recounted. They were common, recurring episodes. How could this assembly of highly educated scientists, each in possession of the PhD—the highest academic degree in the land—be so vulnerable to police inquiry in their lives? Maybe the police cued on something else. Maybe it was the color of our skin. The conference I had been attending was the 23rd meeting of the National Society of Black Physicists. We were guilty not of DWI (Driving While Intoxicated), but of other violations none of us knew were on the books: DWB (Driving While Black), WWB (Walking While Black), and of course, JBB (Just Being Black).

None of us were beaten senseless. None of us were shot. But what does it take for a police encounter to turn lethal? On average, police in America kill more than 100 unarmed black people per year. Who never made it to our circle? I suspect our multi-hour conversation would be rare among most groups of law-abiding people.

As I compose this, about 10,000 chanting protestors are filing past my window in Manhattan. And because of the intermittent looting and related violence, the curfew for this evening has been pushed earlier, to 8 p.m., from 11 p.m. in the preceding days. The most common placard was “Black Lives Matter.” Many others simply displayed the name George Floyd, who was handcuffed face-down on the street with a police officer’s knee on the back of his neck, applied with a force of at least half the officer’s body weight, resulting in his death. Curious irony that NFL star Colin Kaepernick offered a simple demonstration of care and concern for the fate of black people in the custody of police officers, by taking a knee during the Star Spangled Banner before football games. (One media outlet mangled the moment by describing him as protesting the national anthem.) The outrage against his silent act of concern for a national problem persisted through the 2017 season when, as a free agent, he went unsigned by any team to continue his livelihood.

So, we went from a peaceful knee to the ground to a fatal knee to the neck.

The way peaceful protesters and the press are being shoved, maced, tear-gassed, pepper-sprayed, and tackled in the streets of our cities (when the police should have focused on arresting the looters) you would think the protestors were doing something illegal or un-American. But, of course, the U.S. Constitution has something to say about it:

Congress shall make no law … abridging the freedom … of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the government for a redress of grievances.

Which amendment was that? The First Amendment. So, the founders of this nation felt quite strongly about it, empowering one to declare that protesting for redress of grievances is one of the most American things you can do. If you are the police, pause and reflect how great is the country whose Constitution endorses peaceful protests.

What do we actually expect from our police officers? To protect the peace and arrest the bad guys, I presume. But also, to be armed with lethal force that they can use when necessary. That part clearly requires training on how and when to use (and not use) the power of your weapons. The rigorous Minneapolis Police Academy training lasts 4 months. The slightly more rigorous NYC Police Academy lasts 6 months.

Yet to become a certified pastry chef at a prestigious culinary academy requires 8 months. The perfect croissant demands it. So maybe, just maybe, police recruits could benefit from a bit more training before becoming officers.

In 1991, Rodney King (age 25) was struck dozens of times, while on the ground, by four LAPD officers, with their batons, after being tased. The grainy 1990s video of that went media-viral, inducing shock and dismay to any viewer.

But I wasn’t shocked at all.

Based on what I already knew of the world, my first thought was, “We finally got one of those on tape.” Followed by, “Maybe justice will be served this time.” Yes, that’s precisely my first thought. Why? Since childhood my parents instilled in me and my siblings, via monthly, sometimes weekly lessons, rules of conduct to avoid getting shot by the police. “Make sure that when you get stopped, the officer can always see both of your hands.” “No sudden movements.” “Don’t reach into your pockets for anything without announcing this in advance.” “When you move at all, tell the officer what you are about to do.” At the time, I am a budding scientist in middle school, just trying to learn all I can about the universe. I hardly ever think about the color of my skin—it never comes up when contemplating the universe. Yet when I exit my front door, I’m a crime suspect. Add to this the recently coined “White Caller Crime,” where scared white people call the police because they think an innocent black person is doing something non-innocent, and it’s a marvel that any of us achieve at all.

The rate of abuse? Between one and five skin-color-instigated incidents per week, for every week of my life. White people must have known explicitly if not implicitly of this struggle. Why else would the infamous phrase, “I’m free, white, and 21” even exist? Here is a compilation of that line used in films across the decades. Yes, it’s offensive. But in America, it’s also truthful. Today’s often-denied “white privilege” accusation was, back then, openly declared.

The deadly LA riots associated with the Rodney King incident are often remembered as a response to the beating. But no. Los Angeles was quiet for 13 months afterward. Everyone had confidence, as did I, that the video was just the kind of evidence needed to finally bring about a conviction in the abuse of power. But that’s not what came to pass. The riots were a response to the acquittal of the four officers in the incident, and not to the incident itself. And what is a riot if not the last act of helpless desperation.

The 1989 film by Spike Lee “Do the Right Thing,” which explored 1980s black-white-police tensions in Brooklyn, New York, ends with a dedication to the families of six people. Eleanor Bumpers (age 66), Michael Griffith (age 23), Arthur Miller (age 30), Edmund Perry (age 17), Yvonne Smallwood (age 28), and Michael Stewart (age 25). All are black. One was killed by a white mob. The rest were unarmed and shot by police or otherwise died while in police custody. All deaths occurred within the 10 years preceding film, and all occurred in New York City. None of the police-induced deaths resulted in convictions, as continues to be true for 99% of all police killings.

We know of these events because they each ended in death. But even so, back then, it was just local news. Was this just NYC’s problem? I asked myself. But for every police-related death anywhere, how many unarmed victims are shot by police and don’t die, or are wrongfully maimed or injured? Most of those cases didn’t even make the local news. But if you lived there, you knew. We all knew. For what it’s worth, NYC now has the lowest police-caused death rate per capita among the sixty largest cities in the US. Is it that extra two months training in the Police Academy?

The corrosion and ultimate erosion of our confidence in the legal system in cases such as these, even in the face of video evidence, has spawned a tsunami of protests. With sympathetic demonstrations across the United States and around the world. If the threat of prison time for this behavior does not exist—acting as a possible deterrent—then the behavior must somehow stop on its own.

Some studies show that the risk of death for an unarmed person at the hands of the police is approximately the same no matter the demographics of who gets arrested. Okay. But if your demographic gets stopped ten times more than others, then your demographic will die at ten times the rate. I suppose we first have to get the bias factor down to zero, but then there’s still the matter of police killing unarmed suspects, white people included.

I talk a lot. But I don’t talk much about any of this, or the events along this path-of-most-resistance that have shaped me. Why? Because throughout my life I’ve used these occasions as launch-points to succeed even more. Yes, I parlayed the persistent rejections of society, which today might be called micro-aggressions, into reservoirs of energy to achieve. I learned that from my father, himself active in the Civil Rights Movement during the 1950s and 1960s.

In a way, I am who I am precisely because countless people, by their actions or inactions, said I could never be what I am. But what if you don’t have this deep supply of fuel? What becomes of you? Who from historically disenfranchised communities, including women, LGBTQ+, and anybody of color, are missing—falling shy of their full potential because they ran out of energy and gave up trying.

Are things better today than yesterday? Yes. But one measure of this truth is a bit perverse. Decades ago, unarmed black people getting beaten or killed by the police barely merited the local news. But now it’s national news—even breaking news—no matter where in the country it occurs.

So how to change all this? Organizations have surely assembled demands for police departments. Here, I offer a list of my own, for policy experts to consider:

Extend police academies to include months of cultural awareness and sensitivity training that also includes how not to use lethal force.

Police officers should all be tested for any implicit bias they carry, with established thresholds of acceptance and rejection from the police academy. We all carry bias. But most of us do not hold the breathing lives of others in our hands when influenced by it.

During protests, protect property and lives. If you attack nonviolent protesters you are being un-American. And you wouldn’t need curfews if police arrested looters and not protesters.

If fellow officers are behaving in a way that is clearly unethical or excessively violent, and you witness this, please stop them. Someone will get that on video, and it will give the rest of us confidence that you can police yourselves. In these cases, our trust in you matters more to a civil society than how much you stick up for each other.

And here’s a radical idea for the Minneapolis Police Department—why not give George Floyd the kind of full-dress funeral you give each other for dying in the line of duty? And vow that such a death will never happen again.

Lastly, when you see black kids, think of what they can be rather than what you think they are.

Respectfully Submitted

Neil deGrasse Tyson — trying hard to Keep Looking Up.

Copyright © 2018 Neil deGrasse Tyson

[good-rwbyaus]

Can we get Pyrrha's reaction to Professor Ruby?

Becoming AU:  [ Piece 1-5 ] [ P: Weiss ] [ P: Yang ] [ Piece 6 ]

logo-comics asked: What about an AU where everyone had somehow been under the mistaken assumption that Ruby was a professor at Beacon? For a laugh, Ozpin rolls with it whenever he's asked about it.

// Yes you can! Here ya go. Also, Happy Thanksgiving for those who celebrate it! Also Cardin vs Ruby. Yes. - lilac

Perspective : Pyrrha

The pairing system had picked Ruby and Cardin to fight in the sparring ring, which was a shame because she really wanted to give the guy a second beating today. However she wasn’t feeling too much loss, because she’d finally get to see how the girl who stole all the spotlight from her would perform.

Not that she was jealous or anything – well, a tiny part of her that had gotten used to the adulation might’ve been, but for the most part, she felt relieved and grateful. She wasn’t the one who had to carry the weight of people’s expectations anymore; it was Ruby who bore it instead. Despite how grateful she felt, she still wanted to fight the other girl – wanted to experience how the presumed professor-in-training fought.

Beyond their brief interaction in the Emerald Forest, she didn’t really know Ruby – the girl who’d been the center of rumors since her arrival, and it was hard to distinguish truth from lie. Maybe this spar, Ruby’s first public debut against another Hunter-in-training, would help elucidate things.

Now Cardin wasn’t a bad fighter by any means – a bad person, yes - but he knew his strengths and could leverage them well. However, her own strong points coincidentally met Cardin’s strong points perfectly; his strength and tenacity might’ve matched hers, but she had far more agility and flexibility. Combine that with subtle uses of Polarity to magnify the strength of her strikes, it was easy to turn a parry into both a disarming blow and quick surrender.  

However the strong points that served Cardin well countered Ruby’s strongest point, her speed. And the sparring ring was not suited for long range combat; it would be a tightrope walk if the younger girl wanted to employ guerilla tactics.

Yes.

It’ll be interesting to see how Ruby would approach this.

-----

“Are you sure you’re a professor?” Cardin taunted as he swung around aggressively, Ruby darting side to side to avoid his crater-creating blows. Their chase had lasted for over several minutes now, neither gaining much ground against the other.

“Are you sure you’re not an idiot? Weren’t you there when the Headmaster made the announcement?” The girl growled back at the clearly touchy subject as she fell back, creating distance and retaliating with sniper fire. The bullets pinged off Cardin’s armor for the most part, and the ones that headed for his uncovered extremities were deflected by his mace instead.

“The school’s still talking about you being one. And well I’m not impressed,” he posed with his mace on his shoulder. Several quiet cheers came from the audience. An inevitable thing honestly. Cardin was the perceived underdog in this situation, a student versus a professor-in-training. The only odd thing was that Professor Goodwitch hadn’t told the class to quiet down.

Ruby’s reply was a shot to his nether regions, one that he quickly deflected but the resulting clang still made a good portion of the class wince.

Incited, Cardin charged forward with a rage-filled yell, and their game of tag begun once again.

Ruby’s movements were always efficient and purposeful. Instead of constantly stepping back, she staggered her motion diagonally, never allowing Cardin to fully use his gathered momentum. However, the rare times she’d be forced into melee combat, they’d exchange a couple blows, never actually hitting each other, but then Ruby would always be the first to disengage, limbs trembling.

For a while, she thought the trembling was due to Cardin’s blows being heavier than what the younger girl could handle. But that wasn’t right. Ruby would never fully block a hit; she either parried a blow cleanly or avoided it entirely. If she were forced to directly block, she didn’t resist the blow’s momentum at all and allowed herself to fly away like a petal in a breeze.

It was those rare blows that made it seem like Cardin was winning, even though their Aura levels were equally low. She couldn’t help but feel like the younger girl was holding back some, though that didn’t make sense. Ruby didn’t like Cardin, especially after he messed with Jaune a couple times. Of course, Cardin didn’t do these things where Ruby could see him; Cardin was after all a bully and still afraid of the girl’s potential authority.

In any case, holding back was only if you wanted to spare the person embarrassment or if you wanted to hide your trump cards. But from the irritated look on Ruby’s face, she clearly didn’t want to do either of those. So why hasn’t the younger girl won yet? Everything was in her control, so why did she continue dragging things out?

Cardin cornered Ruby again, and it looked like they were again going to physically clash. Cardin swung for the girl’s shoulder, but Ruby had already swung to parry like everything was preplanned.

But what would happen if she….

… if she took away that control for just a moment...Pyrrha’s finger twitched.

The swinging mace suddenly acquired a slightly higher, slightly faster arc, enough to bypass the scythe that was swung to meet it. The young girl’s silver eyes rose in panic, and her feet were already pivoting and stepping back in an attempt to absorb the bl-

Crack.

...That wasn’t what she intended.

The blow struck the young girl cleanly against her shoulder, her red aura flickering as though it were about to disperse. She could see Cardin’s lips open to declare his triumph, but the younger girl swiftly spun with the momentum Cardin imparted to her. The moment Cardin finished out his swing, the muzzle of Ruby’s weapon already slammed straight into his throat, silencing whatever he was going to say.

That wasn’t what caught her attention though. It was Ruby’s eyes, previously angry and colored with emotion – now calm and calculating and empty. Were they always that cold shade of silver?

She saw Ruby’s finger press against the trigger of her weapon.

There was about to be an accident.

No. What has her meddling done?!

But the gunshot she expected never occurred.

Instead, Cardin stumbled backwards onto the ground, his mace clattering by his side. Choking noises came from his figure. His hands were clutched around his throat as he struggled to breathe, eyes bulging out in pain.

Ruby meanwhile shakily stood, her entire body trembling and barely keeping herself upright using her weapon as support. She kept her head lowered as she panted, her eyes covered by her bangs. No one could see the girl’s expression.

Cardin’s fear-filled eyes said it all though. Pyrrha wasn’t the only one who knew how close he came to dying; he also saw how close Ruby had been to pulling that trigger. Cardin might’ve still had Aura in reverse, but after a blow to the throat like that, even if the subsequent sniper shot didn’t outright kill him, it likely would’ve left him hospitalized for months – if he got out all.

Professor Goodwitch’s voice broke through the sudden chatter that erupted in the classroom.

“Miss Rose’s aura is in the red zone. Mister Winchester is victorious.”

================================

================================

The fight haunted her. Not only did she nearly cause an accident, she led Ruby directly into a loss against someone she didn’t like. All she wanted to do was make the younger girl panic a little to see what’d she do, not directly take a mace strike with her body. For over a week, she saw the girl tentatively rub her shoulder on occasion and even wince when accidentally jostled.

Maybe that was why when the Weapons Club started, she volunteered to be Ruby’s assistant as a means to atone, and it was through this that she got to truly know the other girl. First of all, Ruby knew her stuff when it came to weapons, even more so than fighting. The girl was a genius in this area, able to figure out how a weapon generally worked within a few seconds of manipulation and then determine the areas where it needed improvement a couple more seconds after that.

Honestly, Ruby outperformed most diagnostic machines in both time and accuracy, and that expertise really cemented Ruby’s reputation as a professor despite all her vehement denials.

It also rooted the impression that Ruby, despite being bubbly and generally friendly, was a strange and weird girl. For one, she rarely remembered people’s names, but she’ll remember your weapon down to the type of metal, its style of smithing, and whatever dust options it had - oh, and the name you gave it too. Also when she thinks no one’s paying attention, she’ll talk at the weapon she’s holding as if it were alive.  

She couldn’t help but feel that Ruby was lonely at Beacon. Apart from team JNPR and RWBY, she didn’t really have anyone else. When she spoke to her team about it, Ren had put it quite nicely. The girl’s perceived position made it hard for her to have friends outside of those who already knew her well: you could certainly be friends with a teacher, but there are always something things you’ll feel more comfortable telling your peers than an authority.

And the more she interacted with her, the more she felt like Ren was correct. Ruby denied being a professor so aggressively because the girl clearly knew this reasoning deep down inside, and all Ruby wanted to do was to live a normal student life. And it was sad because if there wasn’t this rumor going around, a lot more people would be unofficially adopting an adorable younger sister to their team.

Pyrrha glanced over at Ruby, sleeping over a bunch of well-marked papers and documents: books on leadership, documents on practical marksmanship, and pamphlets on basic dust usage. A hint of drool was hanging by the corner of the girl’s lips.

“Why do you try so hard?” she couldn’t help but ask to the sleeping girl.

What made a fifteen-year old work this hard? Maybe only Ruby knew the answer to the question. 

...All that hard work that she nearly managed to completely sabotage. Guilt struck her once again – she’d been meaning to apologize, but she just didn’t know how. How could she explain it to her friend now?

‘Oh sorry Ruby. I manipulated things to make Cardin win. But I really don’t hate you at all. I just wanted to see what would happen.’ Ugh. She guiltily glanced over the sleeping girl – Pyrrha still couldn’t figure out what had gone over her.

She probably would’ve cared less if she didn’t like her – she’d still feel guilty, yes, but it’d bother her less. But now that she’d gotten to know Ruby – became close friends with the lonely girl that’s always full of bubbly energy and the occasional snarky comment – she could feel the guilt eating away at her inside.

She’ll atone. Even if she couldn’t bring herself to tell her, she’ll pay the price through her actions instead. She’ll stand by her side no matter what, because in the end Ruby was one of her best friends. She owed this much to her.

Speaking of, it was getting late, wasn’t it?

Shaking her head free of the morose thoughts, Pyrrha smirked mischievously and quickly pinched the girl’s cheek before pulling.

The younger girl immediately woke and yelped, hands flailing and sending papers askew.

“whatthehellareyoudoing?!gidoff!”

================================

================================

They were alone now. Jaune had cut down the Ursa and in the process saved Cardin; with any luck, the bully would stop bothering Jaune about his transcripts now. 

But in the process of doing so, she revealed her Semblance to both Weiss and Ruby. And from the way Ruby stayed back, she was now going to pay the piper.

“So you did it,” Ruby said quietly, “You were the one who interfered with my fight.” The girl turned around with a betrayed expression on her face. “The Executioner didn’t move that way on its own.”

“I…I’m sorry,” Pyrrha quietly said, hand against her arm and slightly squirming against the shorter girl’s laser-like gaze, “I’m really sorry. I-“

“Do you know what could’ve happened?” the girl cut her apologies off, throwing down her arms angrily.

“I…yes.” Pyrrha nodded her head, looking straight at the ground and unable to meet Ruby’s eyes. She couldn’t help but wonder if Ruby gained that oppressive demeanor from Professor Goodwitch.

“Then why?” Ruby nearly all but screamed. It was then she knew that day had left its mental scars on the Huntress: how close Ruby came to ending the life of a fellow student, both of them knew. It was clear the girl wanted an explanation now, and she definitely deserved one. The only question was if she could accept it.

“I was stupid,” Pyrrha admitted. “I saw you were holding back. You kept the fight completely under control to the point no one in class noticed… And I wanted to see what you’d reveal once you lost that control.” She shook her head, “I never... expect all that to happen.”

“You. Just for that stupid reason.”

Ruby was right. It was a stupid reason. She kept her bowed down low, the guilt weighing her down. “Yeah, I was being stupid. I promise you it had nothing to do with you specifically. I just wanted to see how well a good fighter would adapt.”

“…I’m sorry that I put you in that position. I’m sorry that I got one of my best friends hurt,” Pyrrha sobbed, “I…”

Ruby glared at her and then shook her head. The girl turned around and started walking away, the sight leaving Pyrrha cold inside. She lowered her head once more, watching her tears fall to the ground. She’d just lost a good friend this day. She wanted to say more things, but it was clear that Ruby had nothing else to say to her. 

The younger girl didn’t want anything to do with her now.

---

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

Huh?

Pyrrha lifted her head. A crimson blur was the only thing she registered before it slammed straight into her. Immediately, she bowled over and cut a course through the dirt. Her body felt sore after the collision, and she managed to get enough of her bearings to see the younger girl that just slammed into her stand up.

Stepping to the side, Ruby crossed her arms with a frown and declared, “Okay, I’m still mad at you, but now we’re even. ” Ruby paused briefly, probably having noticed the confusion in her face, as she further explained, “We weren’t friends then, but we’re friends now…”

“Right?”

Pyrrha, slowly sitting up, nodded her head, “I… Yeah.” Her tone became more confident and empathetic. “Of course.”

Ruby offered a hand to her, the corners of the girl’s lips curling up slightly despite her clear intention to maintain her frown.  

“So yeah, we’re even,” the girl repeated.

Taking up the offered hand, Pyrrha felt herself being lifted up before Ruby’s grip suddenly slackened, and she fell back down on her behind with a plop.

Somewhat shocked, Pyrrha looked back up at Ruby and couldn’t help but choke at the sight – whether it was a laugh or surprise she didn’t quite know.

The younger girl was hobbled over, holding onto her now red hand and opening her mouth in silent agony.

Before she could apologize, Ruby was already speaking.

“Ow! Ow. Ow. Pyrrha, how much milk do you drink to make your shoulder so hard?” the younger girl accused.

“Uh. Sorry, Ruby. But after working with Pumpkin’s Pete’s, I don’t really drink milk anymore.”

The affronted look on Ruby’s face was priceless.

It was there that she knew that everything was going to be okay.

Everything was going to be okay.

[i-dream-of-twilight-sparkle]

Chapter 29: Starlight’s Mother, Part 5 - Closure At Last

Now that things settle down after the heartwarming moment between Starlight and her mother after telling her everything about when she traveled in time in a dangerous maneuver to a mother who spent most of her life protecting Equestria. Twilight continues on recapping the villains she’s faced.

Twilight: Ok… so now we’re back to Starlight saving Equestria from Chrysalis. This resulted in pretty much the rest of Chrysalis’ army to our side. So Starlight didn’t just help save us, she’s the very reason we have more allies then ever. She technically helped jumpstart our expansion to ally with as many nations outside of Equestria as possible before the school of friendship even started!

Sunset: Yes, having the Changelings on Equestria’s side certainly provide some unique allies. Helps that they get fed by simply walking around and feeling the different kinds of love that we ponies have.

Starlight: One of the Friendship School’s brightest students is a changeling!

Twilight: Indeed! Ocellus is a real book bug!

Sunset: So what else came after Queen Chrysalis’ return?

Twilight: After Queen Chrysalis was defeated again… I guess was when the Pillars of Equestria returned from Limbo along with the Pony of Shadows who just happened to be a friend they neglected named Stygian. We helped them mend their friendship, and now we have all of them walking around Equestria. It’s been kind of nice to have some ponies who know about the past to talk to

Sunset: The Pillars being back on Equestria is definitely very interesting. I imagine they all must of had some culture shock at first, but it is a great point to have ponies who lived so long ago to talk to.

Twilight: Though now we have spirit summoning, we’ll have even more to pull from! As long as they have a living relative, or if they were friends with the pillars, Celestia, or Luna.

Sunset nods

Twilight: After that though… other then the aforementioned return of Sombra. as well as Chrysalis and Tirek also returning one more time there was only one more... Though you’ll probably kind of laugh at first, given she was just a little filly… a crazy evil one… but a little filly nonetheless.

Sunset: Heh heh heh, ok… What was her name?

Twilight: Cozy Glow

*THUNDER BOOM*

The moment Twilight said Cozy Glow, time essentially froze for Sunset and the loudest thunder boom from outside is heard. Startling the group as once again Sunset Shimmer gets a huge jog to her memory. The group watches in horror as Sunset writhes around as if having a seizure. She lets out a huge scream, and lays on the floor.

Firelight: Shimmy?!

Starlight: Mother?! What’s wrong?!

Sunset heaves as if to breathe hard once again, and slowly gets back up. Once she has recovered, she faces the group with a determined face.

Sunset: …I remember everything now.

Starlight: Remember everything…? You mean… your death…? and who was responsible?

Sunset nods

Sunset: Cozy… Cozy Glow was there... The three anarchists were her and her parents!

The whole room gasps

Starlight: But wait… you died more then two decades ago… Cozy was just a filly when we met her… how does that possibly work?!

Sunset: Allow me… to explain…

I’ll begin with saying who Cozy’s parents were. Her father was a unicorn named Cheque Mace, who was a burly stallion, his Cutie Mark was the king piece of a Chessboard. Like said piece of the chessboard, he’s slow, but he was calculating and strong. Cozy’s mother was Glitterani an average sized pegasus mare. her cutie mark being the queen piece of a Chessboard. Like the Queen piece, she could be quite fast and dangerous.

What they had in common they were both narcissistic psychopaths. They could not feel love, and their only definition of friends were if they did something for them and/or gave them power, their only reason for marrying and giving birth to Cozy was to have more ponies in their ranks. As even back then, even the more antagonistic ponies wanted nothing to do with their sociopathic tendencies or thought their goal was insane.

Their goal was to take all of the magic in Equestria, either to take it for themselves so they can rule the world. Or if failing that… make sure everypony is magicless in the twisted statement of “if they couldn’t have it, no one else will”. They seeked 6 powerful artifacts capable of being conduits to gather all the magic of Equestria in one spot...

The entire rest of the group gasp recalling that’s exactly what Cozy Glow did under the School of Friendship

Sunset: To be perfectly clear of what would of even happened if they managed to succeed for long. Was that it wasn’t going to really be possible for either of them to gain power from collecting all the magic of Equestria. It most likely was going to result in Equestria becoming magicless, but even if these 3 knew that’d be the most likely result. They didn’t care, they wanted to inflict pain and suffering on the entire world.

I have no idea why they got so evil, but it may be safer to just say they were just born pretty messed up. Because there was not going to be anything redeemable about them, the elements that make up Friendship never occur to them.

They’d rather lie and mislead then be honest.

They have a twisted sense of loyalty that they say only applies to them

They are not generous at the least, and would refuse to give even the most basic needs.

They have no kindness in their hearts.

The only thing that makes them laugh is the suffering of others.

And the magic of friendship is only power to them...

I had to try to take them out somehow someway before I fully retired, as I was afraid they’d fulfill their plan within the next few years before Celestia found Twilight. I could nip them in the bud before things really got bad, and while Cheque Mace had some skill as a unicorn. I would wipe the floor with him on a 1-on-1 duel, Glitterani was fast but nothing my magic couldn’t handle, and Cozy Glow was the most unknown but she was a just a little filly who was also a Pegasus. Perhaps if there’s one thing I underestimated the most about them, was Cozy’s manipulation tactics…

*Flashback*

Sunset had just arrived in the location that would later become New Haven. The train tracks leading here hadn’t even been made yet, and there was only one building at this time that had a front and back entrance, the back leading to Nightmare Cliffs. Sunset had received a tip that’s where Cheque Mace, Glitterani, and their young daughter Cozy Glow fled once they caught wind Sunset was after them. As Sunset approaches the building, she can hear the faint sounds… of a crying child. Sunset gets a closer look, and finds a little pink pegasus filly straight in the middle of the building with curly light blue hair and bows, she had no Cutie Mark yet.  

Sunset identifies her as Cozy Glow. She approaches cautiously. Cozy Glow looks toward the front entrance and sees Sunset. Continuing to cry to try and get the sympathy of Sunset.

Cozy Glow: A…ar…are y-you… S-Sunset Shimmer? You’re the Princesses’ protege, aren’t you?

Sunset: Not anymore, really. But even so, I am here to put you and your parents into justice. You will never take the magic of Equestria away.

Cozy: Whaaaaaat? Me facing justice? But I’m only a filly! I’m not responsible for my parents’ actions!

Sunset: Even so, I don’t know what they taught you. We may try to at least see if you can be changed... if you can prove that you’re different enough from your parents.

Cozy: Oh, Golly! But I am! I-i-i-i have no choice to go with them because they’re my p-p-parents… they take p-p-pleasure in a-a-abusing me physically and emotionally. And when it comes to crimes, if I refused, they would k-k-kill m-me… and they tell me that if I was captured, I’d just end up r-r-rotting in the Canterlot dungeons… But you said they’d try to help?

Sunset isn’t completely sure she can take Cozy’s words at face value. But she wouldn’t put it past the other two to end up having a daughter that wants to be good but they abuse her to the point where they force her to go along with their plan.

Sunset: Yes, if we deem that you can be a good pony in the way your parents can’t… Equestria would welcome you...

Cozy: Wow! That sounds so swell, Sunset Shimmer! Wanna be friends?

Cozy looks at Sunset with a big grin and puppy-dog eyes.

Sunset: I… guess?

Suddenly a voice from just outside is heard

Cheque Mace: COZY!

Glitterani: How dare you betray us! We ought to destroy you along with Scumset…

Cozy: Ahhhh! Help me, Sunset! My parents are here!

Sunset puts up a determined face, and steps in front of Cozy to protect her

Sunset: Cheque Mace and Glitterani! Your life as criminals are coming to an end today! And with any luck, Cozy will be a better pony then you two ever will be.

Cheque Mace: I think you are mistaken, for it is your life that is ending today.

Sunset: Not when I have a reason to get back, once I’m finished with you.

Cheque Mace: Oh... are you talking about your “darling” Fi-Fi

Sunset goes wide-eyed

Sunset: How do you know about me and Firelight? I never even told the Princess about him…

Cheque Mace: I have more eyes then you think, Sunset. Maybe when I’m done with you, I’ll give him a visit. And show them your decapitated head!

As Cheque laughs evilly, Sunset rages and blasts both Cheque Mace and and Glitterani out of the building and gives chase leaving Cozy behind in the building. Sunset confronts Cheque and Glitterani near the edges of Nightmare Cliffs. They stand at first at a standstill, a decent length from each other in a triangle formation. Sunset on one point, Cheque Mace to the right of Sunset’s view, and Glitterani on the left.

Glitterani takes the first move, speeding towards Sunset and spins around fast enough to create a tornado. Forcing Sunset to use magic to bend some earth around her hooves so she remains stationary, so she isn’t blown away by the tornado. This however also leaves Sunset vulnerable to Cheque’s lasers without protection. Sure enough as Sunset entrenches herself, Cheque fires lasers but Sunset knows defensive shield spells that easily protect her. Glitterani just trying to fly around to distract Sunset and force her into putting down her shield just enough for Cheque Mace to get a direct hit on Sunset. But suddenly…

*THUNDER BOOM*

A lightning strike startles Glitterani as she wasn’t too far from the bolt as it struck. She stops in the air, covering her ears after the large boom, and shock of almost being seriously hurt or worse. This leaves a clean shot for Sunset to make a small hole in her shield, so she can target Glitterani. Sunset fires her shot, and she gets a direct hit on her right wing. Rendering it useless for certainly well past this fight. Glitterani falls dangerously close to just off the cliffs but just manages to land at close to the edge.

This also gets rid of the tornado that Sunset had to keep herself stationary for, now free to move however she feels. Leaving Sunset only having to deal with Cheque Mace on a 1-on-1. An advantageous position for her. Off in the distance a faint laugh of a child is heard, but Sunset ignores it as she locks eyes with Cheque Mace. The stare down as either waits for the first move.

Finally, Cheque is the first one to flinch as he fires a large blast at Sunset’s direction. She smugly smiles and says

Sunset: Check. Mate.

Just as she gracefully dodges via a backflip that transitions into a teleport closer to Cheque and fires a counter laser that curves straight at him

Cheque Mace: Noooooooooo!

The laser hits him off to the side, and off the cliff. Sunset assumes he’ll teleport before he hits the ground. Though a thud is heard, followed by the faint sounds of a splash a moment later.

All that was left now was the injured Glitterani. Sunset had basically already won swiftly, though as Sunset approached Glitterani. The sounds of a laughing child get progressively louder every so often.

Sunset: It’s over Glitterani, once I get you and your husband’s injured selves to Canterlot you are facing justice to the full extent of the law.

Glitterani just grumbles as Sunset gets closer, but as she looks up. She sees a small silhouette that is either moving forward or sideways in straight line like the Rook piece of the chessboard, and she grins smugly.

Glitterani: Not yet!

Sunset raises an eyebrow as Glitterani starts laughing, thinking she’s trying to comfort herself with sociopathic fits of laughter. Sunset thinks nothing of it as the silhouette up in the sky gets to just above where Sunset stands… and something is dropped from it. The unwary Sunset still facing Glitterani.

Sunset: Just what are you laughing a-

*SMASH*

*CRACK*

A large rock hits Sunset right at the base of her horn. It’s weight puts pressure, cracking the horn before ultimately it bends too far, and falls off, The rock also hits hard on Sunset’s forehead. She screams out in pain, and falls off on her side. Her vision keeps fading in and out of blurriness as she lays there. A full-on concussion. She also has a black eye as part of the falling rock scraped her still open right eye as it fell off. It takes a few minutes before finally Sunset can look around, she looks up wondering where the rock could of possibly come from and she now has a clear view of who dropped it.

It was Cozy Glow, who just looks at the scene with glee and sadistically jokes

Cozy: Ooooooops, golly… did I do that? Ehehehehehe

Sunset rages, she sits back up and yells at Cozy

Sunset: What… I thought you said weren’t on your parents side! You… you… you liar!

Cozy: Hey, I didn’t totally lie. They do abuse me… But I never said I didn’t like it! Ahahahahaha! Oh and by the way… Mom! I have my cutie mark!

Cozy glow shows her flank and both Sunset and Glitterani see a rook shaped cutie mark. Glitterani laughing.triumphantly

Glitterani: Hahahaha! Cozy, you are indeed one of us!

The rook cutie mark now etched into Cozy’s flank confirms this was a manipulative plan she came up with her parents the entire time.

Cozy Glow: Too bad, poor dad isn’t going to get the chance to see it. I think he had a pretty big tumble and water’s probably filling his lungs right now! But meh, we don’t need him. Right, mom?

Not even an ounce of empathy, Sunset realized then and there that the apple didn’t far from the tree. A rotten apple from a poisonous tree at that, as Cozy was just like her parents. Falling for Cozy’s lie has already cost Sunset her horn. But her magic is the only thing that’s going to reach Cozy from up there if she’s going to get any payback, so despite intense pain still throbbing from the loss of her horn. She decides to fire something, without a full horn to truly focus her magic... whatever is fired at Cozy could be almost anything. Firing something makes the pain in her head worse but something does get fired straight up at Cozy Glow.

Cozy sees the approaching blast, and freaks out before dodging just before it hits. She then proceeds to mock Sunset.

Cozy: Haha! Missed me, Shamset!

But then a slight boom is heard from up above her. Cozy at first thinks nothing of it, thinking it was just thunder. But as she looks up, the blast that Sunset blasted starts expanding into a transparent white dome with star symbols on it, Cozy is too close to it as it starts to suck her up like a vacuum cleaner. She tries to fly out of the dome’s suction but she loses strength quick, and she screams as she’s flung straight up into the dome. The dome then disappears with no sign of Cozy.

Glitterani: C-c-cozy? Cozy?! Cozy, where are you?!

Sunset takes this chance to laugh herself, albeit still through some pain. She approaches Glitterani at the edge of the cliff.

Glitterani: Stop laughing! What did you do to Cozy?!

Sunset: I didn’t think you’d have concern for anypony, even your daughter. But I’m pretty sure what got Cozy was a time travel spell. That dome is pretty classic Starswirl. But... because she broke my horn. I have no control of how far she went. She could of been sent some years to the past, maybe years into the future, or maybe she’s been sent back to the age of the dinosaurs! She may be nothing but dino-chow right now!

Sunset just looking down with a smug face. But then Glitterani gets angry, suddenly leaps up and grabs Sunset pinning her down on the ground.

Glitterani: If we’re going down… I’m taking you with me!

Glittering starts rolling them both close to the edge. This was a fall neither was likely to survive without Sunset being able to teleport to safety.

Sunset: What are you doing?! We’re both going to die if you roll us off!

Glitterani: That’s kind of the idea, you fool…

Sunset: No, wait! Please! I have a family!

Glitterani: And I had one too… before you ripped that away just now. This was exactly why we had you follow us here to these cliffs. We put on a brave face but we knew deep down you were too good... but then Cozy plotted with us a way in which even if we fail... at least we weren’t going down alone... plus whatever happens... no one will know what happened here... You’ve doomed your family to despair! And the best part is… they’ll never know what happened to you!

Sunset: Noooooooooooooooo!

Holding on tight to Sunset to make sure she fatally plunges with her. Glitterani rolls them off the edge and they start plunging down to certain death. Sunset has to act quick, and try something with her horn as it’s the only move she’s got. Sunset charges up what remains of her horn. Though Glitterani sees this and puts a hoof over the hole that was Sunset’s horn. Inside Sunset’s head a burning sensation gets hotter, hotter, and hotter as the pressure of her magic being blocked by Glitterani's hoof makes it build higher and higher until…

*BOOM*

Just a few feet before hitting the water. A big explosion from Sunset’s head envelops the two falling ponies. And if there was anything left of either of them… They were cleaned up by hungry sharks and other meat-eating water predators to eat their fill with. Sunset Shimmer and Glitterani had met their end. Cheque Mace as implied by Cozy had also fallen, he hit his head amidst falling, going unconscious as he fell into the raging waters, body sinking, and thus ultimately drowned. While Cozy was sent into a then unknown time.

*Flashback ends*

((Story continues after the break))

The entire room gasps again having been told the whole story of how Sunset died. Glitterani was ultimately the one who forced Sunset to essentially blow herself up, but without an assist from Cozy Glow breaking Sunset’s horn… Sunset would of most likely survived. So indeed, Cozy Glow had a role in the death of Sunset Shimmer. The room stays silent just processing the story.

Twilight: So… if I heard what happened correctly… Cozy Glow was sent through time… and it just happened to be somewhere over two decades into the future… where at some point she caught wind of the School of Friendship… and she manipulated us in order to infiltrate as a student in order to eventually do what she and her parents wanted to do… with assistance from Tirek.

Sunset: Wait, Cozy actually ended up collecting all of Equestria’s magic?!

Twilight: Yes… and she nearly trapped me and my friends in Tartaurus in the meantime, plus she also had your daughter trapped in the sphere of magic collected. It was thanks to a particular team of 6 students plus the Tree of Harmony intervening under the school that she was defeated. And magic was returned.

Sunset: I see… good that she was defeated quickly enough… otherwise I’m sure by now nearly all life would be dying right now…

Twilight: Huh? What do you mean?

Sunset: Remember what you learned from Jinn? Our souls are magic too, although Cozy and her Parents plan can’t collect soul magic… and neither can Tirek for that matter…  Since soul magic is a lot less tangible, as what it becomes is determined how they lived their life

But without the magic that can be taken such as the casting magic Unicorns have, Pegasi’s flight plus weather-changing abilities, as well as Earth ponies ability to tend the land… Equestria would become a depressing place that can’t do anything about the dark magic that would slowly envelop the world. And with so many unhappy or worse inhabitants, the death of life everywhere would only increase the dark magic, hastening the extinction of life. The world would return to the state of when the Sun and Moon did not move. But there’s too many clouds made of dark magic to see either sunlight or moonlight on top of it.

Twilight can only be reminded of a certain timeline she, Spike, and Starlight saw during their time travel confrontation.

Twilight: That wasteland me and Starlight saw in that timeline… That might have been if Cozy Glow and/or her parents succeeded…

Starlight’s has had her head lowered down for the whole time since hearing the full story of how her mother died, though she briefly raises her head up and goes wide-eyed having heard that the final timeline they saw could have likely been the result of Cozy succeeding. She lowers her head back down, but she seems to have a rage building up inside.

Sunset: Twilight… where is Cozy Glow right now, by chance?

Twilight: She’s trapped in stone alongside Tirek and Queen Chrysalis.

Sunset: *phew* That is such a relief. Of those three, Cozy deserves to stay in stone forever… she may just be a filly. But trust me in saying there’s no redeeming her.

I understand Chrysalis has been stubborn, but perhaps the right circumstance could do it if we can reconnect her with her army... since most of them were her own children.

I doubt Tirek could be changed easily, but he has family issues in regards to his father and his brother Scorpan that could be perhaps worked out to perhaps make him less antagonistic…

But Cozy is a lost cause that must be kept in stone, forever. It’d take outright brainwashing to erase the evil in her heart and there’s no guarantee that even works. I don’t want to know what kind of Dark magic would be released if she died.

Twilight: I admit from appearances alone… it’d seem like Cozy was the most capable of changing… but given what you’ve told me she’s done… and recalling that timeline… not even Tirek and Chrysalis wanted to wreck Equestria that badly… them ruling Equestria would still be bad… but they mostly intended on ruling over us… with an iron hoof or fist probably…  but still not exactly ending all life on the planet…

Rainbow: So wait… if Tirek, Chrysalis, and Cozy Glow’s team up succeeded in defeating us… that could of resulted in a civil war where of all situations… Tirek and Chrysalis would be the good guys?!

Sunset: By comparison… yes.

Applejack: Gosh, that’s bleak…

Apple Bloom: Ah can’t believe we helped such a monster!

Sweetie Belle: We were such suckers…

Scootaloo: If we had known Cozy was like that, we would of left her crying!

Sunset: It’s ok you three, one of Cozy’s skills was manipulation. She fooled me too when I fell for her act of not actually being in cahoots with her parents.

Rainbow Dash: And from what I heard from Sandbar and his friends at school… she had almost all of our students against them!

Twilight: She also manipulated me when joining the school in the first place, when she came into my office to enroll. She started with a sob story about how she was an orphan… and while it wasn’t exactly a lie that she was orphaned… I couldn’t tell her parents were two of the worst ponies to ever exist… let alone that Cozy Glow was from more then 2 decades ago in the past…

Though actually speaking of Cozy’s parents… if they died… what did the dark magic that came out of them become?

Sunset: The dark magic from the deaths of Cheque Mace and Glitterani unleashed a twin pair of strong Hurricanes in the ocean they died in, likely devastating any coastal cities in their path. Large enough for me to see on the planet from the soul shield. These hurricanes return every few years, but each time thanks to the cities putting up more defenses, as well as the strength of friendship magic increasing, thus weakening dark magic everywhere. Just like how the Windigoes are hardly a threat any more, those hurricanes eventually will amount to nothing.

Starlight finally speaks up

Starlight: So… if I’m hearing from you right, mother… dark magic being unleashed from the death of someone evil can be beaten back with time…?

Sunset: Well yes… but it’d still be safer to make sure they don’t di-

Starlight’s voice and anger rises with each sentence

Starlight: And not get any ounce of satisfying retribution for her role in your murder?

For manipulating me and my friends, trapping me in a sphere of Equestria’s magic… and nearly dragging me wherever it was going to go?!

For being part of the reason I never got to know you are until now?!

For being the reason my early life was so terrible?!

For trying to remove all magic from Equestria?!

AND FOR TRYING TO KILL ALL LIFE ON THE PLANET?!

I HAD THAT LITTLE MONSTER IN MY BUCKING OFFICE AT THE SCHOOL! IT IS FAR PAST TIME THIS BRAT FACED DISCIPLINE! AND SAID DISCIPLINE SHOULD BE ETERNAL DETENTION AS A PILE OF RUBBLE!

The group doesn’t know what Starlight’s about to do, but there’s plenty of concerned faces. Meanwhile, Starlight pulls out a piece of portal gum, and starts chewing.

Twilight: Starlight, what are you doing?!

Starlight blows the bubble, Starlight manages to spawn a portal to the exact spot where Cozy is trapped in stone. And she starts charging a powerful laser.

Sunset sees what she’s doing and beckons Twilight to stop her

Sunset: Twilight! You have to stop Starlight before she kills Cozy!

Twilight: On it!

Starlight blasts her laser that will both fit into the portal, and if it hits Cozy’s statue will most certainly shatter it, and thus kill Cozy. But before it even crosses the portal, Twilight gets in front and forms a shield, blocking Starlight’s blast. Starlight stops firing to speak.

Starlight: Twilight! Why are you protecting Cozy?! You heard my mother… she’s an irredeemable psychopath, and if the tables were turned… she wouldn’t hesitate to do the same thing! And even if her death does release devastating dark magic… we’ll have the power to shrink it in time!

Twilight: I agree that Cozy is never going to change, but unleashing some unknown, devastating form of dark magic on what will most certainly be all of Ponyville isn’t worth the immediate satisfaction of a sudden execution! Cozy is already facing justice as a statue! You’ll just put everypony in Ponyville in danger just for the brief moment of satisfaction of killing in revenge, even if it sounds justified!

Starlight thinks for a moment before trying to blast through anyway, despite Twilight’s insistence. So Sunset puts up a determined face to talk to her daughter.

Sunset: If you won’t listen to Twilight, maybe you’ll listen to me as your mother… Yes, Cozy was partly responsible for my death. I hate her about as much as you do for it, but this isn’t the answer!

Starlight stops firing, and her rage shifts into sadness and overflowing tears

Starlight: Why isn’t it?! She didn’t directly kill you… but she may as well have! The circumstances of your death was the true reason I turned to darkness. I couldn't control what happened then, but I know what I can do to rectify that!

You would have been fine if Cozy didn’t break your horn! 

I would of had a loving mother such as you around so I wouldn’t have had such disdain for something that should have been one of the happiest moments in my life… receiving my cutie mark and knowing the pony I was destined to be… 

AND on top of that she planned on ending life as we know it!

So what if Ponyville has to deal with something like a storm of dark magic every so often… 

Won’t it feel like justice to you?!

Sunset: No! Because whatever damage the dark magic from Cozy’s death does could endanger more lives then it’s worth in exchange for the brief satisfaction of ending Cozy’s life. Letting anger fuel you as you end a life will also only end up bubbling up potential dark magic from your own soul’s magic.

Starlight: Didn’t you technically kill Cheque Mace when you blasted him off the cliff?

Sunset: In a way, I suppose I did.... But I didn’t do it intentionally, I was thinking he was going to teleport before he fell… I didn’t know he had become unconscious until Cozy implied he was dead. This is a world where emotion and morality influence our magic power and determine what our soul does after we pass, whether we add additional strength to the soul shield or become vengeful dark magic that wrecks the planet.

Putting our harshest and/or most stubborn villains in stone is our way of punishing them harshly without them unleashing dark magic that can hurt others. Killing them, even beyond the ensuing dark magic devastation… may end up only making Cozy a martyr for potential villains of the future...

Starlight: Wouldn’t leaving a statue just make something potential villains idolize or even try to free them if they’re magically adept?

Sunset: That is a possibility, but not if we outright properly educate who Cozy was and why she needs to stay as a statue… Just look at her face… even I know that Cozy’s scared look as she’s petrified is another of her manipulation moves. Before turning to stone, she acted quickly to look like she was scared and innocent, so she could perhaps one day fool an onlooker to think we petrified an innocent pony…

Or… if we destroyed her as a statue… make it seems like we executed an innocent little filly… and whatever comes down on top of Ponyville would seem like retribution from nature to some who would want to follow down Cozy’s path of psychopathic evil. In that sense, you could end up only creating more Cozy Glow’s...

Starlight’s finally stands down and takes a moment to calm down, though still at least gives a suggestion. Meanwhile, Twilight take the opportunity to closes the portal as Starlight speaks.

Starlight: Alright… I think I understand… but I think at the very least if we’re going to consider the future like this, we should then think about putting Cozy in a place where a potential future villain like her could not use the statue to idolize it or even get freed by someone adept in magic enough to reverse petrification. Do we have a super secure facility? Or you want to try putting Cozy in Tartaurus again only this time she’s a statue ON TOP of being trapped there?

Twilight ponders something

Twilight: I think I may have an idea… what if I put Cozy’s Statue in it’s own pocket dimension. And much like our gum portals. Only those with the magical authorization can access it. What good is Cozy’s manipulating petrified pose, if almost no one’s going to be able to see her?

Starlight gives a smug look that harkens back a little to her old ways before Twilight and the others befriended her.

Starlight: Hahahaha! Almost makes me want to be able to at least free Cozy’s head temporarily just so I can see her face as she hears where we’re leaving her!

Rainbow: Geez Starlight, seems you still have a little bit of that evil dictator side of you

Starlight: Maybe, but can you blame me? Cozy’s part of why I was led on the path to become one in the first place. I’m not actually serious about freeing Cozy’s head, I’m just saying... it’d be satisfying.

Sunset decides to play along with a bit of an exaggerated disappointed mother.

Sunset: Starlight Glimmer... enough of that talk and I may have to ground you for the first time! *giggles*

Starlight: Maybe, I should let you ground me just to have a taste of the mother you would have been *giggles* I even know a spell where I can play out if you had been around for my childhood

Sunburst: You mean that spell you used to try to get me to play Dragon Pit with you again?

Sunset: Oh I loved the Dragon Pit board game! I played it alot with my brother when we were kids. I would of played with you and/or Sunburst almost all the time. Too bad I won’t be able to roll dice and move the pieces. Iiiii can’t exactly touch objects aside from the floors, I have to sort of float since I can kind of fly in order to sort of go on stuff like beds, and I can’t float stuff with my horn anymore.

Starlight: Always the option to have somepony roll and move your player for you!

Sunset: That is true!

Starlight: But in all seriousness... knowing Cozy will cause no more harm nor be able to potentially manipulate somepony who doesn’t know better about her will be great to know.

Sunset turns toward Twilight

Sunset: Putting Cozy’s statue in a pocket dimension is a great idea. And in fact if you know somepony else who might have devastating effects somewhere should they die, you should probably do the same thing.

Twilight: The only other villain I can think of on that level is Zathir, I’ll definitely have to petrify him as well, and put him in the same pocket dimension as Cozy.

But until then, I think now that we’ve solved everything. We’re going to start to head back, we ought to go see how Applejack’s parents are doing with Big Mac, Sugar Belle, and Granny Smith.

Starlight: If it’s ok, Twilight… I’m going to stay the night here, to spend some more time with my mother. Since pony Spirits can be down here indefinitely, right?

Twilight: This is the first time we’re having spirits down but I suppose I can let you stay the night here with your mother. Though I’m not sure what will happen if Sunset tries to sleep, though given I’m part spirit… I might at least have a hypothesis... if a spirit goes to sleep… They may go back to the soul shield, similar to how when I go to sleep, I go back into my bottle.

Sunset: That feels like it makes sense. After all, our comet-like forms are kind of also us sleeping

Firelight is a little distraught.

Firelight: Shimmy… you’ll go back up there in the soul shield if you sleep?! I… was almost kind of looking forward to being able to have you sleep with me again… I’ve felt so lonely hoping one day you’d come back… cause I didn’t know you were dead this whole time…

Sunset smiles, touched that her husband thought about that.

Sunset: Well, I still could. I just have to not go to sleep myself. How about this… We’ll sleep in our bed tonight, and I’ll only go back to the soul shield sometime after you’ve fallen asleep. And if you want to see me again tomorrow or any other point. Just get Starlight or yourself to go see Spike to summon me down again.

Starlight: We also have a wedding between 2 of Twilight’s friends in Saddle Arabia to attend in two days. We could… perhaps summon you down so you can attend if you’d like.

Sunset: That sounds lovely, I won’t exactly know much about the 2 being wedded. But if perhaps you and Fi-Fi are going, I could definitely go.

Starlight: I think I was going to go regardless, but It’d definitely be great to see you there.

Firelight: I wasn’t going to go initially… but if you’re going to be summoned down for the wedding. Then I absolutely have to be there.

Sunset: Then of course, summon me back down on the day after tomorrow’s wedding and I’ll be there the whole way.

The room cheers and claps to have a spirit attendee.

Applejack: Heh, ya’ll could even become spirit friends with mah parents if we invite them too!

Twilight: That does sound like a pretty good idea.

Rainbow: Hey everypony! Don’t look now, but I think the storm’s over!

The whole group walks back outside, and perhaps appropriately with the skies clear… the sun itself is setting in a fitting fashion with the return of Sunset Shimmer. Starlight walks on over to the Cutie Mark Crusaders as Sunset continues talking with either the Elements of Harmony and/or Firelight

Starlight: I want to thank you three for starting me on the road to find out who I am. You deduced that I inherited my magic power from my mother. And now I know that I’m the daughter of a former Celestia protege. Whatever I do with the magic I inherited from my mother is up to me and me alone to decide. For now, I intend to use it to lead and protect the School of Friendship. But who knows what the future holds.

Apple Bloom: No problem, Starlight! Ah’m happy ya’ll got t’ see ya mother fo’ the first time just like ah did today!

Sweetie: Yeah! Your mother is amazing

Scootaloo: Definitely, one of the coolest ponies I’ve ever seen!

Starlight now turns to Sunburst and Trixie.

Starlight: So Trixie, what do you think of my mother?

Trixie: Your mother’s great, Starlight. Now I know why you’ve always been so talented. And… I’ll admit the full story of what happened made me cry a few times… ok that’s an understatement… I cried most pretty much the whole time hearing how much your mother’s death impacted your life…

Sunburst: I might just stay the night in Sire’s Hollow with you as well Starlight. Not just for my own mother and my father being back for good, but getting to know my long-lost Aunt.

Starlight: Plus, we’re cousins now… that means your plan-filled mother is my own Aunt heh heh

Stellar: That’s riiiiight, my newfound niece!

Stellar smiles and boops Starlight on her nose

Sunspot: We welcome you to the family, Starlight. We already thought of you fondly when we didn’t know you were related, but thanks to all the reveals we got today from summoning my sister… you are always welcome in me and Stellar’s household.

Firelight and Sunset walk on over. Firelight in particular turning to Stellar Flare.

Firelight: Hey Stellar, I have a suggestion…

Stellar: Yes, Firelight?

Firelight: You know the museum that we agreed to build over there?

Firelight points to the construction currently being built

Stellar: Yes, what about it?

Firelight: I want to give it an official name

Stellar: Huh? Isn’t it just going to be called the Sire’s Hollow Museum?

Firelight: That was the plan originally… but I think I have a better name and purpose for it. I’d like to call it… the Sunset Shimmer Museum. It’ll still have a section dedicated to our town, but mainly because Sunset was going to make this place her home. I think it’d have a greater purpose to sharing the world who she was. As not everypony’s going to be around for when we summon her spirit down again.

Sunset gasps, but is ultimately touched that Firelight would dedicate an entire museum to her.

Sunset: Oh Fi-Fi, you’re so sweet… You don’t need to dedicate the whole museum to me…

Firelight: Maybe I don’t need to, but I really, really want to. You deserve some recognition for keeping Equestria safe before Princess Twilight would just about finish the job by providing the peace we have now.

Suddenly, Celestia walks up from behind.

Celestia: A museum dedicated to Sunset sounds like a great idea, I still have plenty of cherished items back in the Canterlot castle related to Sunset’s time as my student that I can donate.

Sunspot: I guess that’s where I can put your horn, sis… if that isn’t too much of a reminder of what happened…

Sunset: It is a little grim… but hey, plenty of museums have real skeletons. It’d make sense that the only trace left of my body would be at my own museum.

Starlight: An interesting thing about this is because we can summon you down here, you’ll technically be able to be a tour guide for your own posthumous museum!

Sunset: Ha, that might be fun. It’d certainly make it more interactive. Maybe I can even play a bit of a prank on some guests thinking I’m just a highly advanced magic hologram. And then at some point do something that surprises guests when I suddenly say or answer something that would be impossible if I was a pre-recorded hologram!

Starlight: Now that would be funny!

Sunset: Can’t be there every day of course, but for special days I’d love to do it.

Stellar: The museum’s far from finished anyway, but we’ll love to have you back down for opening day when it is.

Sunset: Absolutely!

Sunset turns to Princess Celestia

Sunset: On another subject… Princess Celestia… I think I heard in passing somewhere that you’ll be retiring with Twilight taking your position. I don’t know what you plan to do in your retirement, but know I’ve always been proud of serving you. I know you kick yourself hard for things you see as mistakes fair or not, like Princess Luna becoming Nightmare Moon or not coming with me for my last fateful mission...

But know for every failure, you’ve maintained Equestria in balance for long enough for ponies like me, Twilight, and my daughter to make Equestria an even better place. Everypony in Equestria owes a gratitude for you whether they realize it or not. And if you get Spike to summon more of your many generations of loyal staffers and guards, they’ll say many of the same things I’m saying now. Without you… Equestria would of fallen apart long ago.

Celestia’s eyes well up with tears of joy

Celestia: Thank you, Sunset. I… really appreciate hearing that…

And um, Sunset. I can wait a little while before you do. But on an occasion you’re summoned back down, I’d really like you to meet my sister Luna.

Sunset: Oh yes, I’d love to get to meet her as well.

Celestia: In your younger days, you actually reminded me quite a bit of Luna when she herself was younger. I think you’d two would make great friends.

Sunset: I knew how much you missed her even back then, so I know she must be amazing. So I will definitely cherish seeing her for the first time. Maybe I’ll see her if you’re both at the wedding

Celestia: Yes, me and Luna will be attending the wedding. That’ll be the perfect opportunity for you to meet my sister for the first time.

Sunset approaches Celestia for another good long hug.

The group now splits between the family of both Starlight and Sunspot. The Elements of Harmony, Spike, The Cutie Mark Crusaders, Trixie, and Princess Celestia are next to a portal to Ponyville. As they all wave to each other.as they start heading out the portal. Twilight the last one to go back, and gives her goodbye before walking in.

Twilight: We’ll see you all at the wedding in two days! Goodbye Starlight, Sunset, and family!

And thus a family fully reunited after years of mystery and hardships. The family all hugging each other one more time before talking the night away. Sunset will return to the soul shield during the nighttime once everypony was asleep. But there was now a sense of closure for the entire family

UP NEXT: Chapter 30: A Pear-fect Reunion

[valiantly-onward]

The Serpentine War Ch. 4

A Garmadon chapter, finally! I had a blast writing this, mostly because I love Garmadon (heads up, it’s a little longer than the last few).

Chapter 4: What It Takes To Win

Garmadon dodged another strike from the side. Clouse was getting sneaky about his attacks - feinting with one dagger while driving the other up toward his enemy’s ribcage. As his enemy was usually Garmadon, it was in Garmadon’s best interest to keep dodging.

For months, they’d sparred with wooden weapons, then dulled blades, and now real ones. As if Garmadon needed to start small. But centuries with Wu and their father had taught Garmadon to recognize lessons when they were present. Chen was testing them. He was always testing them.

Garmadon let his katana spin for a millisecond, a little fun, and slammed it down to catch Clouse’s rising knife. He caught Clouse’s other arm by the wrist. They grappled. Clouse’s lipless mouth curled in a snarl.

Garmadon smiled in return, to mask how hard he was truly fighting. Clouse was slimy, but he was a worthy combatant. Worthy enough to battle a son of the First Spinjitzu Master.

Something in Garmadon’s chest hummed, but he pushed it down. Spinjitzu was forbidden from these spars. Just good old fashioned butt-kicking.

Clouse dropped the knife from his trapped hand. Garmadon looked down to avoid the clattering blade; Clouse used the opportunity to pull his second knife back and slice at Garmadon’s exposed forearm. Silver slashed through the black sleeve, grazing skin.

Just one cut, but Garmadon felt livid. How dare this creature draw his blood? Garmadon leapt up and spun - one kick, to disarm, another a millisecond behind, to break Clouse’s nose.

Garmadon landed low to the ground with one knee extended behind him, his side to Clouse. Be ready for anything, said the warrior in him.

But Clouse was on his back, his lip barely split.

Garmadon straightened. “No broken nose. A pity. It might’ve saved your looks yet.”

Clouse scowled as he felt for the blood on his lip.

“Ah, right,” Garmadon continued. “Nothing could save your looks. Thanks for reminding me.”

Clouse growled, lifting a glowing purple hand. Just as the dagger flew back into his palm, a voice called over the yard, “None of that, Clouse. Today, the victory goes to Garmadon.”

Both men turned to the approaching speaker. Master Chen was a pale man with a head of auburn hair that seemed to wilt in the sun. He’d taken to wearing strange robes now, black with red underwraps. The belt buckle engraved with snake heads seemed to be in poor taste, especially nowadays, but what did Chen have to fear? He was the most powerful man in this small bubble he’d created.

Well, the second most powerful man. He would not achieve that status again until Garmadon was gone. Chen knew this of course, but somehow Garmadon thought he still might be Chen’s favorite. He understood so little of this man, and yet so much.

Chen rubbed his chin as Clouse scrambled to his feet. “Clouse.”

“Master,” said Clouse, squaring his shoulders.

“Go check on your little pet.”

Clouse bowed and turned away. Garmadon felt his deadly glare boring into the back of Garmadon’s head.

Once Clouse was gone, Chen raised an eyebrow. “You must do what it takes to win, Garmadon.”

“I did win,” Garmadon protested.

“That? That was much too close.” Chen took his shoulder and guided him back through the courtyard. “Oh, Garmadon. Clouse has his talents. Useful talents. But a man of your skill should never come so close to being bested in combat. You are too powerful for that.”

Garmadon frowned. It was nothing Garmadon didn’t know himself. But coming from Chen, it felt strangely worrisome. Garmadon had won, and won honorably, but it seemed Chen didn’t just want him to win. He wanted him to win utterly, not barely.

There was no need for Garmadon to reorient himself to this concept. It made perfect sense. More sense than holding back for the sake of honor.

“I understand,” he said.

“Good.” Chen patted his shoulder before releasing him. “Greater things await you, Garmadon, if you choose them. Now go. I want you to meditate. Tomorrow may be an important day for you.”

He strode off to the gardens, leaving Garmadon alone on the patio.

~~~

Garmadon lay in his bed, hands folded over his chest, and tried to decide what he wanted.

He often wondered that, even hundreds of years old and having seen things that Chen could never dream of, Garmadon was still here, deferring to the man as a master.

But Chen opened the doorway into the part of Garmadon he had always been forbidden to go - by Wu, and by their father before them.

Greater things await you.

There was no battle technique Chen could teach that Garmadon didn’t know. Garmadon was already the most powerful person in the room, in any room, any place in the world. 

So what did he want?

Garmadon sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the cot. It was this: he couldn’t bear to spend years cooped up in a monastery like Wu, only revealing his power between centuries. He saw the potential of power when no one else did. And he wanted more of it. In this, Chen seemed to know something Garmadon didn’t.

Maybe this way, he’d find some peace.

He’d tried everything else. Maybe, even with staunch darkness pulsing in his blood, this was the way. Enough peace to offer Misako a whole, unblemished heart.

Misako. It was harder every day to remember the real Garmadon, not the blackened one that seemed to be slowly eating him from the inside out. Misako, his lifeline. He would fight it, for her. He had to.

He pushed himself off the bed, suddenly angry. He couldn’t meditate when he felt this way.

Garmadon pulled his screen door open. It was dark already; stars peppered the night sky above the courtyard. Garmadon tightened the belt of his gi and wandered out. Usually when he felt like hitting something, the night air helped, but not tonight.

He was considering blasting apart one of the training spinners to cool his nerves when he heard voices. Only then did he notice the light spilling from the nearest window, shadows moving behind the screen.

Garmadon cocked his head. Hm. He moved closer and his gut twisted upon recognizing Clouse’s silky tone.

“...never thought I would have to face him,” Clouse was saying.

“I have told you before, Clouse.” This was Chen. “Garmadon came to me. It is not my fault you cannot beat him. The strong survive in this world.”

Clouse made an annoyed sound. “Master - I am not weak.”

“Only a weak man would say that.” Chen’s silhouette moved across the screen. “Prove it to me, Clouse. Prove you deserve a place at my side in the world to come.”

The world to come. Garmadon frowned.

“I thought I already proved that. That’s why you have shown me this and not Garmadon.”

“Garmadon clings to his brother’s moral code,” Chen replied smoothly. “I am trying to show him the way I taught you. Yes, Clouse, you do not have his weakness. Yours is that you understand what you must do, but you do not do it.”

“I would -”

Chen’s silhouette raised a hand and Clouse fell silent.

“Prove it to me,” Chen repeated. “That is all for tonight, Clouse. You may retire.”

Garmadon heard footsteps across the floor inside as Clouse left to his room, deeper within the house. Garmadon waited for a moment, but Chen was alone. So Garmadon silently traced his steps back to his room and slid the door shut. He leaned his back against it for a moment, thinking.

It was like the old days, right after Father’s death, back when he and Wu faced threat after threat. Garmadon had learned to recognize something in the way those threats spoke - and tonight, not for the first time, he had heard it in Chen’s voice.

He knew what Wu would do.

But what did Garmadon want?

He fell asleep before he found the answer.

~~~

Clouse was in the training yard the next morning. Garmadon looked like he’d slept in his gi, which he had, and on his floor, which he also had. The bed had seemed too troublesome in the late hours of the morning.

Clouse, strangely, had no weapons with him today, but the wooden swords of months past lay on the stone before him.

Garmadon stopped by the first training spinner. His hatred for Clouse simmered for a moment. “I accept your surrender.”

“Pick up the stick, Garmadon,” Clouse sneered.

What was he playing at? No better way to find out than to play along. Garmadon strode up to him and scooped up the wooden sword. He swung it a few times with a smirk. “Too scared to face me with a real blade?”

Clouse’s smile was as unfriendly as a smile could get. He extended his sword.

They circled each other. It occurred to Garmadon that the yard was completely empty. Even while they trained, there were always a few servants hovering around. Not today.

Garmadon struck first, but Clouse was fast. They held for a moment, caught in each other’s crossguards. There was something different about Clouse this morning. An intensity anew in his expression.

Clouse yelled as he threw his weight forward, forcing Garmadon back. Garmadon leapt out of the way to dodge the strike, and he was up on the nearest spinner, light on his feet. Clouse rushed him. Garmadon parried; the wood splintered a little. He copied Clouse’s move, forcing him back - and adding a little power behind the push that Clouse couldn’t hope to counter.

Without warning, the spinner began to move. Garmadon went with it. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Clouse coming for him again. He ducked under the now-spinning axe and turned, running against the machine’s momentum. Leap over a low mace. Another axe. But he wasn’t getting very far - the spinner was speeding up.

A thump behind him. That would be Clouse joining the party.

Garmadon made the mistake of glancing over his shoulder to defend himself. Instead, he got a faceful of mace.

The world went bright for moment and Garmadon wasn’t quite sure how he ended up back on the stones, Clouse groaning beside him. Garmadon shook the pain out of his head and sprang up just as Clouse raised his head. He forced Clouse down with a fist against the man’s chest. Clouse growled like a beast. His fist collided with the sore spot on Garmadon’s cheekbone. Garmadon’s falter allowed the tables to turn, quite literally, and Clouse was above him now, his eyes waning purple...

“Good Garmadon,” said Chen’s voice nearby. Garmadon gained the advantage again. “Good Clouse. But you're both holding back. Might I add he who wins this fight shall become my right hand and be granted lordship?”

Both their faces snapped toward Chen. Lordship! And his right hand? Did he mean it?

Something hit Garmadon hard in the gut. Clouse had kicked him, and now he was scrambling up, all restraint gone. That new intensity burned in his face. Before Garmadon could get to his feet, Clouse raised his hands and let them fill with that strange magic of his. Purple light cast itself at the wooden spinners. They sprung up as if they had legs and launched themselves in Garmadon’s direction.

Garmadon had a split second to make a decision.

You must do what it takes to win.

Garmadon knew how to win.

It had been so long, but Spinjitzu wasn’t something that could be forgotten. Not for Garmadon. It was his father’s greatest legacy.

The world rushed violet and when Garmadon emerged, the remains of the training equipment were scattered around the yard. Clouse was on his back, splinters of wood lying across his chest.

Clouse furiously shoved away the broken poles. “He cheated, Master! You told us Spinjitzu was forbidden!”

Chen smiled coldly down at Clouse. “He did what he had to do to win.”

Clouse looked stricken. But Chen turned to Garmadon, his expression sly and proud. “Congratulations...Lord Garmadon.”

@greenygreenland

[clonesdeservebetter]

Suspicions Arise

[on ao3]

“Master Windu,” Shaak Ti said as the holoprojector she had been given within her apartment flickered to life “This is a surprise. The next Council Meeting isn’t scheduled for a few weeks.”

“Indeed,” Windu’s voice came over the comm clear and even, his face placid, but there was an air of concern around him that could be felt from systems away “I’m afraid I’ve come to contact you on another matter. An... off the books, matter, I suppose. Is your line secure?”

Shaak blinked. This wasn’t like Master Windu at all. True, there were times he had circumvented the paperwork process by contacting her directly for matters relating to the next batch of clones hitting the battlefield, including recommendations for stationing and the like, but there was something different about this. Maybe it was in the way the other master was holding himself (too stiff, his jaw clenched and eyes tight, she realized as she looked him over), or the way he had asked if the line was secure (a hint of paranoia, mistrust), but something was wrong. 

“The Kaminoans have told me I have one of the most secure lines on Kamino. The only ones who can access it are their ambassador and myself--”

“Do you have a more secure line?” Windu asked, and there was now almost certainly desperation lacing his words “One the Kaminoans cannot access?”

“I... Yes, I have a private holocomm, but--”

“Then I will contact you shortly. Ensure you’re in a spot that isn’t being monitored.”

The line was cut almost instantly afterwards, leaving Shaak even more confused. It was true that the Council had agreed to be wary of the Kaminoans at the very least, but this level of secrecy seemed to be moving from wariness to full-blown paranoia, something that was extremely unlike Master Windu. It rose concerns, to say the least. 

Regardless, Shaak knew that there was likely a good reason for it. After all, he was among those out in the field, allowed to see their clone troopers as candidly as they could be, as opposed to being on their best behavior for the dozens of eyes that seemed to be watching them at nearly all times. Maybe he had discovered something she was unable to see. Something the Kaminoans had hidden.

She had discovered areas where the Kaminoan’s cameras didn’t reach, blind spots for both audio and visual monitoring, but she also knew she wouldn’t have long, as most Kaminoans and their guards had also discovered these places after catching misbehaving cadets time and time again. There was one place she was almost certain would be truly private though: her own fresher.

As soon as the fresher door slid behind her, her private holo began to ring, and she answered it almost instantly. 

“Alright, I’m alone and unmonitored,” Shaak said quietly “What was it you wished to discuss, Master Windu?”

“Have you noticed anything strange about some of the cadets, Master Ti?” Windu asked, sounding cautious, but with a more relaxed posture “Or perhaps special is a better word for it.”

“Some have incredible skills,” Master Ti began “Others still need to work on emotional control, but overa--”

“I’m not talking about physical skills, Master Ti,” Windu interrupted gently “I mean to ask if there’s anything... special about some of the cadets.”

Shaak stared at the holo for a moment, confused on the emphasis on the word special again, before it clicked. Her eyes widened.

“You mean... You’re asking if any of the cadets may be Force sensitive?” Shaak asked, her tone incredulous despite her best efforts to keep it even, and when Windu nodded, her face betrayed her complete and utter disbelief “Master Windu, even if it were possible, which I’m fairly confident it’s not, I’m sure the Kaminoans--”

“Would omit any information about them in reports,” Windu interrupted, less gentle this time “Because we did not order Force sensitive clones, and because Jango Fett was not Force sensitive, it would be seen as an unwanted mutation. They would be culled as soon as they were discovered.”

“Master Windu!” Shaak all but hissed “I agree, the Kaminoans have rather harsh policies, but killing children--”

“They don’t see them as children, Shaak,” Windu said, and Shaak was fairly sure he was gritting his teeth “They see them as products.”

Shaak opened her mouth to argue, but found that she really couldn’t. The way they talked about the clones, about their worth, even the terminology they used. The terminology that, she realized rather sickeningly, she had adapted to using a bit too fast. Cadets, not children. It instead of he. Numbers instead of names. 

“I haven’t noticed any, Master Windu,” Shaak Ti said, then, quietly admitting “I never though to look.”

“None of us did, Master Ti. Now, at least a handful of us know better.”

“A handful?” Ti prompted “You haven’t told the rest of the Council yet?”

“No,” Windu said “I haven’t. Neither have the others, and I hope you will continue this discretion.”

“Why not tell the others?”

Windu paused, sighing softly and leaning over whatever surface he was using to hold the call. He looked down, then looked back up at Ti.

“Reactions to it may... vary. In addition, there may be members of the Council who want to either keep this buried or bring it into the public eye. We need evidence of the Kaminoans actively attempting to hunt and eliminate these individuals before the latter happens, and we need to be able to put together a convincing argument in case the former occurs.”

Shaak nodded, understanding the other master’s train of thought. It wasn’t something the Council was proud of, but if information harmed the Order or Republic existed, they would often keep it to themselves. It was a public relation situation, really, but if something like this were happening, well, it couldn’t be ignored. Not this time.

“This evidence, I’m assuming you’re hoping I will be able to collect it?” Shaak asked, and when Windu nodded, she continued “It will take time. Kamino has tight surveillance measures in place, and even tighter restrictions on information and access to areas.”

“Do what you must, Master Ti, just be careful. They can’t discover our suspicions.”

“Of course, Master Windu. May the Force be with us.”

“Indeed.” Mace finished, and then, once more, the line was cut. Shaak sighed heavily, processing the information she had just been given. How had Windu gotten this information? Were there Force sensitive clones out on the field, fighting and hiding in plain sight? 

It didn’t matter. Her job was to focus on the children of Kamino, on the cadets of the G.A.R. She walked out of her fresher, and was startled by the sight of Taun We standing in apartment. It must’ve shown, because Taun We bowed apologetically. 

“I apologize for the intrusion, Master Jedi, but the ambassador asked me to check in on you. After Master Windu cut the communication line, he grew concerned. Is everything alright?”

“Yes,” Shaak answered, regaining herself “Everything’s alright. It was simply some private Jedi business. Nothing to concern yourselves with. Though, I will say that I do not appreciate being monitored.”

“Ah,” Taun We nodded slightly “I see. Please understand, it’s just part of security protocol. No offense was meant, I assure you.”

“I see,” Shaak said “Well, thank you for your concern. I think its best we return to our duties for the time being, though.”

“I agree, Master Jedi.” Taun We said, then, with another bow, left the apartment. 

‘Step one’ Shaak thought ‘Find and disable monitoring devices in apartment.’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mace Windu paced in his room aboard the Endurance, worry uncharacteristically clouding his mind. He stopped, sighing heavily as he leaned forward on the desk in the room. This had to be the right thing to do, it had to be. When Ponds had told him the situation, had revealed that other Jedi knew (Kenobi, Skywalker, Secura, Koon), he knew he couldn’t let it lay.

He had to do something.

He felt Ponds enter the room, the soft swoosh of the door opening and closing causing him to turn around and face the commander. 

“Thank you, sir,” Ponds said “I know its not easy but... It’ll be worth it. I promise.”

Windu offered a tired smile.

“I’m sure it will, Ponds.” Windu said, then thought ‘It has to be.’

[meryllfrey]

a little drabbly drabble thing where Meryll finds out about her father’s run-in with Wenda the White Fawn, bringing clarity to the troubled relationship between father and daughter. told from ser barristan’s pov.

{.........................................................}

It was raining, so Meryll was not on the deck in her usual spot. Instead, she was reading in the Captain’s quarters (though the crew members were now referring to them as the Lady’s quarters, much to Groleo’s amusement). He found her stretched out in an armchair, feet propped up on the table and completely absorbed in The Rogue Sellsword’s Accidental Bride. Thankfully, she had traded in the revealing Pentoshi gowns for loose breeches and flowing tunics, reminding him of the day he found her in the forest clearing when he was running from the crown.

“I never would have thought the girl who cleaved my training sword in two would turn out to be a romantic,” he said, sitting in the chair across from her.

Meryll scoffed. “I’m not. I’m just enough of a cynic to know that the reason these books are so good is because they bear no resemblance whatsoever to real life.” She set the book down on the table between them. “My sisters got me started on them. Probably the only girlish thing I ever enjoyed.”

He begged to differ, thinking of her fondness for perfumes, pear tarts, and white knights, but he said nothing.

“I wish I would have sent letters to my sisters from Pentos, but it never even occurred to me at the time,” she said wistfully.

“It never occurred to me either,” Barristan admitted. “I’m sorry, my lady, I suppose we should have sent word to your Grandfather that you were safe and he should stop looking for you.”

She laughed, but it wasn’t a happy laugh. “Lord Grandfather would not have even noticed my absence.”

“Of course he would have, you are his flesh and blood,” Barristan said, affronted that she would make such a statement.

“Me and 110 other descendants,” she retorted. “Grandfather can’t even remember all the names of his sons, never mind the daughters and grand-daughters.”

“Your father then,” Barristan tried. “He must be worried.”

“He is likely glad to be rid of me.”

Barristan frowned. “Why would you say such a thing?”

She looked him straight in the eye then. “My father is not fond of me, Ser Barristan,” she said matter-of-factly.

“I’m sure you got yourself in trouble plenty of times, but why would you say the man is not fond of you?” he asked. “You mentioned he took you to Seagard as a girl. He would not have taken you on such an important trip if he did not care for you.”

A ghost of a smile crossed her lips. “It was different then.” She curled up in the chair, arms wrapped around her knees, and stared at some memory off in the distance. “I was the fourth daughter. Four girls and no sons. My father had been greatly disappointed by another daughter, as you can imagine. I don’t know if someone eventually told me that, or if I just somehow sensed it, but as early as I can remember, I tried to be the son my father wanted. I dressed in boys clothing and followed him everywhere. He taught me how to care for the horses, how to fish, how to ford the river when the waters were high, and yes, even took me along on trips to visit other noble houses.”

Barristan smiled, not finding it hard at all picturing this rough and tumble little girl that she spoke of, dressed in jerkin and breeches and eager to please.

“And then my brother was born,” she said shrugging, “and Father had a real son. I was getting to the point then where I couldn’t really pass myself off as a boy anymore anyway.” She stopped talking then, deep in thought. Barristan waited.

Meryll looked up to meet his eyes, her brow knitted in confusion. “It wasn’t even like he just set me aside and forgot about me. It was as if my very existence offended him somehow. I wasn’t going to be the son he wanted, obviously, but neither had I learned any of the skills that girls were normally taught, and I felt like Father was just … almost, disgusted … by my utter uselessness.”

She blinked and looked down at her hands, shrugged again. “He drank too much, my father. Used to rage something terrible.”

She was making excuses for her father’s abuse and neglect.

“And he had terrible headaches from a head injury he suffered when he was younger. I think he drank to relieve the pain.”

The mention of a head injury caught Barristan’s attention. “Your father,” he said, thinking hard. He recalled a young squire of House Frey who had been hit in the head with a mace. “What was his name?”

“Merrett Frey,” Meryll said, sitting up straight. “Why do you ask? Did you know him?”

“Not personally. But he was a squire for Lord Crakehall, was he not?” Barristan had always had a knack for remembering the squires’ names, despite the large number of them that came and went over the years. Meryll nodded and Barristan continued. “It was on an expedition against the Kingswood Brotherhood that he received that injury. He was dead to the world for nearly a fortnight, no one thought he’d ever wake again.” He rubbed his beard thoughtfully. “You know, my lady, I don’t think your father’s supposed dislike for you was personal.”

She scowled. “How could it not be personal?”

“I don’t think it was about you at all. That expedition… it was not a successful one for your father. Even before his head injury, he was captured by one of the outlaws, a veritable woman warrior known as Wenda the White Fawn. She ransomed him and released him once Lord Crakehall paid, but she also branded him—”

“With a fawn!” Meryll finished, wide-eyed. “On his arse! Mother forbade any of us from ever mentioning it.”

“He was very shamed by the experience. The other squires, and some of the knights too, I’m afraid, teased him relentlessly about being bested by a woman.”

“But you didn’t,” Meryll said with quiet confidence.

“No,” Barristan confirmed, “and neither was I able to do much to stop it. But, I just wonder. Wenda the White Fawn, your father must have hated her something fierce. A woman, young and fair, skilled in the arts of men, and known for her prowess with a bow and arrow in particular,” he said, raising his eyebrows at Meryll.

She squinted at him. “You think… you think he hated me because of this Wenda?”

“I do not think he hated you at all. But when you reached womanhood, you were likely a constant reminder of the most terrible, emasculating and humiliating experience of his life,” he said gently.

“I— I’m not sure that’s much better.”

“But it wasn’t because of anything you did, Meryll.”

It gave her something to think about, if nothing else, he thought, watching the mix of emotions pass over her features.

The door swung open then, and Groleo stomped in with a bottle of ale in hand. “Rain’s done!” he announced and then stopped dead in the doorway. “I’m sorry, I can come back if I’m interrupting,” he said, eyes moving from Barristan to Meryll and back again.

Barristan tilted his head, meeting Meryll’s eyes in a silent question. Did she want Groleo to leave? She looked shocked and confused, as if she had just woken up from a long sleep and found herself in a strange place. She stood, retrieving her book from the table.

“No, no. If the rain has stopped, I’ll go read outside,” she said.

Barristan wanted to follow her out, make sure she was well, but he also suspected she needed to time to absorb what he had told her. “Take your time,” he said. “Those two books need to last you at least another month.”

Groleo held the door open for her, and she stopped in the doorway and turned back. “Thank you, Ser Barristan,” she said, eyes a little too shiny, and then left. Groleo closed the door behind her and took a seat on the chair she had vacated.

“I have a trunk full of books in my study she can read but they may not be of any interest to a young woman,” Groleo remarked, pouring the ale into two drinking horns. “Mostly history and astronomy tomes.”

“You might be surprised. Her tastes are quite varied,” Barristan said, thinking of the Maester’s book of battle injuries she had packed in her bag.

Groleo handed Barristan a horn of ale. “She’s a special sort of lady, our Meryll, is she not? Or are many women in Westeros like her?”

“Not many, no,” Barristan said with a small smile, and took a long drink of ale.

[phantoms-lair]

Christmas Gift from Providentially Demonic

Sorry this is so late and not as great as your gift, but this was a silly idea I had in my head to write. You might not want to publish it, because while it tried to be vague, there are definite spoilers.

****

Arthur had seen superheroes and villains often enough on the television that he could immediately identify the ten-armed thing tearing up the streets of Devil’s Tongue as one of the latter, even without the weird yellow and black uniform it was wearing and the constructs of acid-yellow energy it was creating.

He swerved the tow-truck to avoid one of the constructs, yelping as he nearly went out of control when the road erupted under his tires. He spun the wheel frantically and managed to slide into a curb, where he could only sit panting for a few seconds, before his survival instinct kicked in and he bailed out of the truck, reckoning it would be a small loss as compared to his life.

Ducking flying debris, he whirled on his heel and bolted back the way he had come, hoping to get out of the thing’s range.

Luck wasn’t on his side. A chunk of concrete wall the size of a truck slammed into the ground in front of him. Arthur barely managed to check his speed enough to keep from slamming into it bodily. He tried to swerve, but the burning hulk of a semi blocked his escape on one side and the wall of a building on the other. He turned at bay, putting his back to the chunk of concrete and wondering if he would come back like Lewis if he died here. Maybe his apologies would have more force if he came back as a ghost to tender them…

Something red flashed by him too fast to register and slammed into the ten-armed creature. It reeled with a roar and some guttural sounds that might have been words. A bright golden cord looped around one of the arms and hefted it off the ground for an instant, sending it crashing bodily into the nearest building.

Something with spreading wings dove out of the sky and started whaling on the creature with a mace that sparked against the toxic yellow force-fields it was creating as fast as they were smashed through. It was driving the brute back into the wall it had been thrown into.

Arthur flinched as chips of stone and dust showered over him. He really hoped he wasn’t about to become collateral damage in the battle between heroes and the many-armed villain. He could barely breathe for the fear welling in his chest. He was trapped like a rat, far too close to the battle and he was going to die here and never see Vivi or Lewis again—

A gentle curve of lambent gold curved around him, moving him safely away from where the red streak had joined in on the pummeling of the creature. “Like, just hold still,” a soft voice urged quietly. “We’ll get you out of range.”

Yelping in instinctive terror of being off the ground, Arthur twisted to see a lanky figure in a black and gold outfit, with a grey cape that looked like it was an afterthought, manipulating the sunlight gold aura that held him.

The youth— because let’s face it, the kid looked younger than him— set Arthur down behind him, throwing up a shimmering gold bubble to keep the flying bits of debris away. “You’re okay now. Like, just stay put and we’ll protect you ‘til the League takes out—”

>>Barakixis<< An oddly metallic-toned voice came out of nowhere. >>His planet of origin is Halixxi-7 in the Rigel System, though his first act as a Yellow Lantern was destroying it.<<

“Right— Bara-kickstand over there.”

“Who—?” Arthur managed, trying to keep his trembling legs from betraying him. He found a chunk of masonry and sat down before he fell down. His heart was thundering in his chest and his breath came too fast. He buried his head in his hands and started counting breaths aloud in an effort to keep from going into a full-fledged panic attack. He knew the symptoms too well.

“Hey, like, look at me, dude. You’re okay. Just breathe with me, okay?” The lanky kid knelt in front of him and held his eyes. “Deep breath and hold -one-two-three- and breathe out through your nose. And deep breath—”

Arthur focused on the words and the sensation of air filling his lungs over and over until the panic released him from it’s grip and he could feel the fog of fear lifting.

“T-thinks.” His voice wavered a little but that was okay. His real hand was still shaking, so he wrapped his metal fingers around it to quell the tremors. “Sorry.”

Those warm brown eyes still held his. “Trust me, man, I get it. I, like, used to have panic attacks all the time. Velma taught me that breathing thing, but that’s, like, the first time I ever used it on anybody else.”

>>Are you sure—?<< that strange voice came again. >>He has calmed, yes, but the fear is still there, only less overwhelming.<<

“It’s okay, Ring. Once the panic subsides, the fear usually fades pretty quick too. At least most of the time.” The youth glanced down at his hand and following his gaze, Arthur saw a gold ring with a sun motif on it, glowing the color of sunlight on a warm summer day. “And, like, the battle’s over and we’re safe.”

It was true. The many-armed creature was in improvised shackles made of rebar, being twisted into place by none other than Superman, The red streak had resolved into the Flash, now chattering animatedly with the winged woman who had done a bang-up job of banging up the menacing creature.

Standing right outside the gold shield was Wonder Woman, patiently waiting for it to fade.

The youth waved at her sheepishly and glanced down at Arthur. “You okay now, man?”

Arthur nodded slowly. He was. Surprisingly steady for the fear, but getting a better hold on himself now.

At his nod, the gold shield vanished and the glow of the gold ring lessened.

Wonder Woman storde up to the youth, her eyes searching.

The youth managed a weak laugh. “I’m okay. I stayed out of the way and Ring shielded me and this guy from harm.”

Wonder Woman glanced down at Arthur and gave him a small smile and a nod. “Well done, getting a civilian to safety. I would rather you had not been here at all, though.”

“Like that was going to happen. You know what he came looking for.”

“Yes. Where are the rest of your friends?” Wonder Woman asked.

“Like, still at the hotel the next town over. Daphne’s been emailing this paranormal researcher who lives there who knows some ways to spot the fakes easy.”

“Not that you cannot?” Wonder Woman’s voice was gently chiding.

“Hey, like, whatever helps.” The youth ducked his head, floppy brown bangs shading his eyes. “Besides, even Ring can be tricked some of the time.”

>>Not often,<< Arthur would have almost thought the strange voice sounded offended at the thought. >>But it has occurred once.<<

“So, like, better to know the tricks, just in case.”

Wonder Woman nodded and held out something small to the youth, who accepted it with a steady nod, fingers closing tightly around whatever it was. “Keep in contact with us, so we can monitor things.”

To Arthur’s surprise, the young man laughed. “Even if I didn’t, Batman has like a million eyes on me, he’d be the first to know, before I could even get you a message. I don’t know if he’s paranoid or just over-prepared.”

“More than a little of both, I am afraid.” Wonder Woman chuckled. “Still, it would be nice to see you less in times of crisis.”

“Yeah. I’m sure the girls would like to see you again, especially if you aren’t running them around an Amazonian training course.”

Wonder Woman laughed again before flying off to where Superman was manhandling the alien into a aircraft.

The lanky youth glanced down at his closed hand before waving at Arthur with the other. “Glad you’re feeling better. I’ll see you around.”

“Wait,” Arthur surprised himself. “If— if you’re in the next town over, that’s Tempo, right?” Arthur waved at his tow truck, miraculously unscathed, in spite of the damaged streets around it. “I live there and I can give you a lift.”

“Like, that’s okay, we can…”

“And if that researcher is who I think it is, I can do better— I can provide you an introduction—” He paused, ducking his head. “As a way of saying thanks… both for saving me— and helping me out.”

“You don’t have to thank me, but I think I will take that ride.” The young man offered his hand. “Like, my name’s Shaggy.”

Arthur shook the extended hand. “Arthur.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shush you. This story is wonderful. I love how you have Shaggy being a hero without going against his normal non-violent behaviors and using his experience with overwhelming fear to help recognize and ground it in other people.

Also, I love the post fic mental image of Vivi realizing someone not only has a piece of alien technology on their finger, but enchanted it to the point where it’s sapient magitech. She’s going to squee so hard!

[a-fluffer-nutter]

The One Thing All Gods Fear

A/N - So this character I created for this fic has now become one of the best characters I have ever thought up, so please prompt more of her, because I’m in love. I have another prompt with her, but please give me more. I love her and will draw pictures of her and oh my god. But don’t forget, she is you and I love you. Please enjoy this Thor/ teenage sister!reader insert fic, dedicated to all of you! Thanks everyone!

Word Count: 1,700 (Beautiful number)

           Asgard. A prestigious realm, one full of light and beauty. One full of gods of all sorts, some of beauty, some of light, some of trees and earth, some of powerful forces. All of the gods were respected, though there were always the outcasts. Loki, your brother, allowed himself to be an outcast, though he was never supposed to reside in Asgard, was he? Being an outcast was his choice, but it was never yours.

           You never got the choice of what kind of god you were. You could have been the god of sheep or alcohol or dirty jokes or funny hats on dogs, but no, you had no choice. You were born as one of the most powerful gods in all of Asgard, the goddess no one ever wanted to associate themselves with, the one they shrunk away from.

           You are the Goddess of Fear.

           Odin wanted to keep you hidden as long as he could, not wanting to admit he was your father. How could the king of the gods produce you, a vile and cold-hearted creature? But, no, that wasn’t you. That’s what they wanted you to be, what they stigmatized you as. They wanted to exile you, imprison you, kill you. Others saw you as a weapon, wanting to see what you really were. They wanted to see the monster inside that could ensnare even the boldest of men. They wanted to weaponize you, demonize you, glorify you. There were only two people who saw you for who you actually were, the real you, the soft-spoken but overly cocky you.

           Thor and Loki. Your older brothers.

           They saw you for who you truly were. You were the nerdy girl with the wicked sense of humor, the girl with the big smile and loud laugh, the girl who could dance and sing and also kick ass at the same time. You were the sister who cared for others when they needed it most, the sister who held her head high, but could be shy and scared at the same time, the sister who could light up the room if given the chance. You were their everything and they were yours.

           You were alone in the large training area beneath the palace, just how you liked it. You had memorized the exact times everyone was busy or eating. This was when you trained. Sure, you never wanted to be seen as a weapon, but it was your duty as a god to know how to defend yourself and the realm you called home. Over time, you did become quite fond of fighting, at least fighting the dummies you were provided in the facility. It gave you a way to release your anger and pain, without ever hurting anyone.

           “Been here long?” You heard a rough voice behind you, calling from the other side of the room. Your muscles relaxed once you heard his voice, dropping your sword to the side so it rested against your side, hilt resting limp in your hand.

           “Hello brother,” You smiled as you turned around, noticing not one, but two men walking toward you. “Brothers, I mean. How are the two of you on this jovial day? According to my internal clock, I should have had ten and a half more minutes until the two of you finished your meal. What gives?”

           “We wanted to come see you,” Loki smiled fondly, glancing down at the sword at your hip. “I also had money on you specializing in a sword.”

           “I see you as more of a mace wielder,” Thor responded, rolling his eyes as he handed Loki a handful of coins. “You sure the sword suits you?”

           “I really like stabbing things,” You smiled wickedly, seeing the two recoil slightly. You let out a short laugh, shaking your head. “The two of you need to lighten up, seriously. Can’t you take a joke? But, honestly, I really like how it feels and how elegant the blade is. It just feels right.”

           “Well, congratulations for finding the perfect weapon,” Thor gave a short nod, before coughing, “It’s the wrong one, but that’s okay.”

           “Let her be,” Loki laughed, shoving Thor. He looked over at you, a grin plastered on his lips. “I am so happy you chose the blade. We can’t have another bumbling brute with a smashy smashy weapon, can we?”

           “Smashy smashy weapon! Mjolnir is not a ‘smashy smashy’ weapon. It is perfectly fit for a god,” Thor retorted, thinking of the hammer fondly.

           “Perfect for a brute,” You replied, Loki’s eyes lighting up as he gave you a high five.

           “I’ll show you a brute,” Thor huffed, summoning Mjolnir to his side. “Spar with me and see if your little stabby stabby weapon could possibly be better than mine.”

           “That sounds like something a brute would say,” You snide, pulling up your sword. “You’re on, you big nerd.”

           “Wait,” Loki stepped between the two of you, hands pressing into both of your chests. “Of course, you would win, Thor! Your stupid hammer can harvest the power of fucking lightning! She’s holding a training sword that can barely cut butter. How is that fair?”

           “Yeah, Thor,” You stuck out your tongue, hands on your hips. “You trying to kill me or something?”

           “You want me to kill you, eh?” Thor crossed his arms, brow raised. “I could destroy you in three minutes, max.”

           “Oh, no, Loki! Whatever shall I do?” You wink at your middle brother, causing him to let out a quiet giggle. Thor lunged at you, hands reaching out as you dipped behind Loki, pressing into his back for protection. “Save me!”

           “Nothing can save you from me!” Thor bellowed, pulling you out from behind Loki as you let out a shrill laugh, pleading for Loki’s help. Thor pinned you to the floor, smiling down at you while you attempted to wiggle free. “I am the one thing that all gods fear! The tickle monster!”

           “You can’t be serious,” Loki muttered into his hand, hiding the silly grin on his face as he watched Thor dig into your ribs. You laughed hysterically, arms beating into Thor’s chest, before quickly bringing them down when Thor targeted the hollows of your under arms.

           “Loki!” You squealed, your boots pounding against the floor. Loki didn’t react, simply smiling at the scene that was unfolding. This was definitely not the first time and event like this occurred and it is not likely to be the last time, either. “Hehehelp!”

           “Help you?” Loki flashed an amused look, arms crossed before bringing one hand up to his ear. “Who are you and what did you do to my sister? Oh, wait…how to the Midgardians say it…um…oh, yes! New phone, who dis?”

           “That’s not funny!” You shot back, though it was nearly incomprehensible due to the shriek you produced, no thanks to Thor drilling his thumbs into your hips.

           “Well, why are you laughing then?” He asked, biting his lower lip as you let out a snort, Thor having placed a raspberry on your navel. “Thor, why is she laughing?”

           “I don’t know, brother,” Thor said between raspberries, his beard making the sensations so much worse. “She must be losing her mind, that joke wasn’t very funny at all.”

           “Well, I’m helping the girl,” Loki scoffed before going for Thor’s under arms, going for his worst spot first. Thor let out a loud yelp before falling backward, his laughter hysterical and boisterous. “If I’m going to help you, you’re going to have to help me.”

           “Thank you,” You replied in a sing-song voice, finally able to recover. You rolled around, attacking Thor’s middle, the two of you reducing the oldest sibling to a puddle of loud laughs and frantic thrashing. “Aw, would you look at that, favorite brother! The brute is trying to say something!”

           “Fuhuhuhuck yohou all,” Thor was able to make out through his laughter.

           “Cover your ears, Y/N! Your innocence is being stripped by this boar of a man!”

           “That was uncalled for!” You announced, fingers quickening. “Saying that nasty word in this Norse establishment is a sin!”

           “A sin punishable by death,” Loki laughed, his fingers picking up the pace as well. Thor was completely hysterical, laughter going near silent. After a few minutes, the two of you release Thor, stepping back to give him some space. “Oh, good. We killed him.”

           “I’ll go tell Odin that Thor left for Midgard while you hide the body,” You say, staring at Thor. “Deal?”

           “Deal,” You exchange a fist bump as you bounce away toward the entrance. “Don’t let Heimdall catch you!”

           “I wo-No!” You heard Loki let out a yelp before a loud thump. You spun around on your toes, seeing Thor having flipped Loki over onto his back. “The blond bear has me!”

           “I’ll get help!” You announced, starting to run before being flung backwards. Mjolnir was thrown your way, looping around the push you back a few feet, close enough for Thor to grab your wrists and drag you next to Loki. “This situation looks dire.”

           “Good,” Thor remarked, grabbing your hands and both of Loki’s, holding them palms up. He placed Mjolnir atop the four hands, trapping you and Loki on the floor, him resting happily between the two of you. He cracked his knuckles then his neck as he wolfishly eyed both of you. “You cannot tickle the tickle monster and expect to walk away freely.”

           “We truly fucked up,” Loki let out a curt laugh, glancing your way.

           “We sure did,” You met his gaze. “We should have finished him off with my stabby stabby.”

           “At least this is better than his brutish smashy smashy,” Loki replied, the last thing either of you were able to say to each other before Thor went to town. Both of your laughter intermixed, a gorgeous symphony filling the room.

           The three of you spent the rest of the day chasing and tickling one another, having the time of your lives. While the rest of the gods feared you, it didn’t matter anymore. The only two that mattered to you was Thor and Loki, your brothers, and nothing would ever change that.

[wanderingthroughwickford]

Agents of Shield S4E1: The Ghost

A.k.a. the one that started it all

(Prepare for obscene amounts of rambling about irrelevant faves and lots of (hopefully) self-deprecating humour) 

One thing I really need to try to make sense of in this rewatch is how the gangs got hold of the box from Momentum Lab in the first place. I guess it was vaguely implied that Eli told them about it but ... why? 

I was under the impression that he thought he’d killed his co-workers so I don’t ... think?? he’d know their ghosts/spirits/incorporeal forms were still in the boxes? But if so, why did he describe the contents of the boxes as ‘weapons?’ 

Why would he even want to risk them getting out and coming back for revenge on him? Did it never occur to him that they’d be pissed?

Did he intend for Lucy’s box to be the one that got picked up, or was that just a result of her being the last one to get ghost-ed so her box was closest to the door or something? 

He couldn’t possibly have orchestrated the whole string of events that got him broken out of jail, could he? I mean I know he’s incredibly smart but that’s the thing, there are just too many things that could have gone wrong for someone as intelligent as Eli to bank on such a flimsy plan? Like it relies on the assumption that 1) the ‘ghosts’ are even still alive/in any sentient state, 2) that they’ll decide they need the Darkhold, 3) that they’ll be able to find it, 3) that they won’t be able to read it, 4) that they’ll choose him of all people to read it for them? I mean it’s the definition of Gambit Roulette and I’m just ... not buying it without futher evidence

Damn, this is one hell (eh?) of an entrance for Ghost Rider

Didn’t he rip one of those guys’ spines out through their ... rear end?

Oh man the blood splatter. I forgot Robbie’s early killings were so graphic because most of the time he’s just burning ghosts.

“She was a ghost” - I love how the titular ‘Ghost’ is so ambiguous - it could refer to Daisy, always a ‘ghost’ slipping through Shield’s fingers; to Robbie, the Ghost Rider; and to Lucy, the closest one to a literal ghost.

I kind of have no clue what Daisy’s criminal activity was all about b/c I missed the last episode of S3, but I’ll take the show’s word for it that she wasn’t doing anything all that bad (just trying to stop Watchdogs).

Literal first episode of the season: “They say when the Rider burns you, he burns your soul. And a soul can never heal.” My dumb self, wanting my shitty fave to have some semblance of (admittedly undeserved) peace in the afterlife:

Oh I’d completely forgotten that FitzSimmons were already working on virtual realty at the beginning ... setting up the Framework from the first ep and I didn’t even know it.

FUCK they even namedrop the Framework? In connection with Radcliffe? And here I was thinking they didn’t even introduce it until episode 10 or something.

FITZ BABYYY don’t talk about the Framework so innocently :(

Aww the team coming (almost) all together ... before they’re all so painfully ripped apart later on

I know Mace is kinda painted as being in the wrong for implementing lie detector tests and being overly paranoid and stuff, but, like, Shield did just get back on its feet after being crippled and nearly destroyed by a secret terrorist cult which it had unknowingly harboured within its own ranks for half a century, so ... yeah #Macedeservedbetter

Aww it’s nice how Daisy leaves behind money for the homeowners

YES a mention of the Lucy box

OH GOD it’s AIDA ... I don’t even have words honestly

I want to say “report her right away!” but she’s just an innocent being (?) at this point, so would it be right? 

Mallory Jansen does such a good job though, she’s so robotic and artificial here and she becomes so real as AIDA becomes more human throughout the series

It’s kind of sweet that Radcliffe just invites Fitz and the gang over to his house to watch soccer though

Love Yo-Yo giving Daisy the medicine

Man it’s weird thinking of Robbie as a ‘serial killer’ and a bad guy, as the team sees him at this point ... I had like one episode of genuinely thinking he was a villain and then the second I saw him with Gabe at the end I was like, oh okay, he’s this kind of character, I get where this is going. 

(Keep in mind that I had 0 prior knowledge of who Ghost Rider is or even that he’s a Marvel character)

Aaaand now I see the bloody bodies in the back of the truck and am reminded that Lucy is not, in fact, a good person.

(Though to be fair since that was the first time she’d ever used her powers it was probably an accident ... she probably panicked and tried to push past those guys not knowing it would kill them. Everything after that, though, is on her hands.)

I like Simmons standing up for herself and speaking back to May. It’s good to see her able to put her foot down and justify her decisions. And I like how May is subtly impressed by it.

“In the wrong hands, [AIDA] could be used as a weapon, is that the intention” “No, no, not at all! Look, I know the dangers-” *insert stock photo of people laughing*

AIDA asking Fitz about Jemma is so creepy now...

Nice to hear Lincoln, Trip and Andrew mentioned

Hngnggnhng Radcliffe and AIDA were so well-intentioned at fiiiiiiiirst :(

Ohhhh I think she’s coming sooooooooon~

YES they’re bringing out the box

I can’’t breathe

“I’ve been told [the weapon is] powerful enough to bring our new enhanced enemies to their knees” - man I remember hearing this line and having NO IDEA it referred to a character rather than an object, let alone one I would pledge my life to

Also ... this means that Eli must have known what was in the box, but even if he did know that his co-workers were ghost-ed rather than killed, why would he know they’re dangerous? A disembodied spirit, in and of itself, wouldn’t be harmful... Or was he just bullshitting?

All right here we go

Oh okay I guess we’ve got a Robbie/Daisy scene (who cares about the two most important and interesting characters of the arc when you can obsess over a minor antagonist with barely any screen time amirite?)

YES HERE 

WE 

GO 

FOR

REAL

ą̶̻̱͚̼̱̥̹̘́̽͆́̒͒̄̽̿̌̒ ̷̢̺̪͕͕̲̠̗͚̺̰̈́ͅͅb̵̧̨̡̬͙͎̪̥̠̎̿͋͊̆͌̐̀̿̕͘̚͝͠͠r̶̨̫̲̭̬͚̄̂̽̇̓̏͘͝é̷̘͚͖̦̠ă̸̼̓̋̐̿͝t̷̛͓̠͚͋͐͒̑̀͆͒̃̚h̸̢̡̘̳̗̗̲͕̯̩̠̯͍͂ ̷̡̡͕͈̱͉͇̱̭̗͚̖̾͑̾͒̎͗͜͝͠͠ͅȏ̷̧̩͈̖̺̒̎̚̕͝ͅf̵̝̜̲͔̝̩͈̪͕̏ ̷̬̣̥̠͇͈̞̞͈͗̾̒̆̈́̄̾͗̈́͂͝f̵̥͚̤̼̬̫͇̖̖͕̼̼̩̈̂̌͗̃͌͆͂̎̈̀͐͊̈́̕r̴̜̖͉̣͎̰̜̪͒̎̿̾̋̌̐͑́͐͒͒͘̕ę̵̨͕̝̬̞̰͙̟̏̾̉̃̈́͌́̀́̏̕̚͠͝͝s̵͉̠͠h̷̬̼̙̙͔̪̞̙͖̣͙̮͚̆́̔̎̉̎͒͋͂́͛̊̽ ̸̢͖͕͍͓͈̼͔̮̳̩̩̝́̍ͅą̵̛̻̘̠̓̀͐̓̓̑͒̍͝i̷̙̓̂̀̈́̋̋͒̈́͐͑̈̚͠ŗ̶͚̖͈̠̘̠̝͙̠̳̝̥̮̟̀͒̑͊̅̚ ̴͙͈̀̔   MY  L O V E 

Has there ever been an entrance more ~iconique~ (TM) than Lucy materializing out of nowhere, hissing warning words in a gangster’s ear and immediately fucking everyone’s shit up (answer: yes)

GOD I remember seeing her for the first time and thinking, like, wtf is that? For some reason I thought there were multiple lady ghosts too before realizing there was just one. I just remember having this feeling like, whoa, this is a whole new playing field here, this is weird, what the hell is this?

I mean I do feel a bit bad for the guy, though ... Lucy’s powers, while cool, really are horrible to their victims.

For the love of GOD stop pausing and freezing, dumb video, I just need to watch like the last 6 minutes

OH and there goes Lucy through May ... I don’t have anything good to say about that, it’s just straight-up cruel and unnecessary on Lucy’s part

“[You killed] a teacher.” “A pedophile.” That’s the first moment where I had that little “oh” awakening about Robbie, like “well, maybe he isn’t such a bad guy.” I still remember that dawning realization.

I’ll always like Robbie/the Ghost Rider sparing Daisy there, even though she thinks she deserves to die due to her guilt - he can tell she’s not a bad person, despite what Hive forced her to do.

I kind of wish there’d been a parallel situation at the end of the season though with Fitz and GR, I think that’d have been a nice, clever book-end, and also given Fitz fans (myself included) some more closure. Plus, possible bonding moment for Daisy and Fitz.

Aww FS sharing a bed??? I forgot that part.

Half these Robbie scenes I recognize intimately from the zillions of AMVs I’ve watched of him in the past 10 months

Aww and here he is with Gabe ... that was the moment I Knew, in my heart, that he wasn’t a bad guy.

Honestly “Everyone gets attached to something” is such a fitting tagline for this episode both for actual relevant reasons and the personal fact that I found my new fave here

Oohhhhh the Coulson zombie face .... D: Lucy whyyy do you do this

May’s honestly really resilient; everybody else who gets infected starts having visions within seconds, whereas for her it takes presumably hours to get the first one, and she holds out for like a day or so (I think) before she goes completely homicidal. I chalk it up to her years of Shield training and mental self-control. 

Anyway that’s all for the first episode! I don’t honestly expect anyone to read these but if you did, I hope you enjoyed/weren’t too irritated by my ramblings. 

Meet the New Boss (one of my fave episodes on a purely self-indulgent level) is next week!!!!!

[tsw-story]

Chapter 25 - Like Soldiers

There they stood within Deena's abode, five in total: Kevin the ginger warrior, Daveon the handsome druid, Deena the little witch, Renatta the fire ninja, and Eldrian the aspiring wizard. They were in circle looking towards one another, as Eldrian just finished explaining everything he knew to those who were out of the loop—about Asta, the thugs, and the upcoming battle.

“So we're expecting to run into a guy with mind control powers, and a guy who has indestructible skin, on top of a spellbreaker, which is apparently the thing that counters all of your powers?” Kevin asked.

“Yes,” Eldrian replied.

“You know I'll help you, but how do we deal with this? It sounds even more dangerous than the giant Dylan thing.”

“Planning, and a lot of improvising, like usual.”

Deena crossed her arms and gathered their attention. “Eldrian and I have been discussing what to do. They all have unique abilities that need to be dealt with. If only those three are there as threats, we need to figure out who is best made to handle each one. There's five of us, which means two of them can be dealt two of us instead of one, and I imagine Asta is on the top of that list.”

“You'll come with me, Kev,” stated Eldrian. “You're the only one Asta can't counter, because you have nothing to counter.”

“Thanks,” muttered Kevin.

“So Kevin and Eldrian will find Asta,” Deena repeated. “Ron has skin as hard as metal, so most attacks won't do much. But he can be bound and trapped, and I can still inflict curses on him. I'll deal with him.”

Daveon slipped off his hat and ran his fingers through his hair. Quietly, he let out a sigh, but a moment after, he gathered himself. It was a lot to take in. But when he looked between his allies, a smile came to his face—one of determination.

“That leaves me and Renatta,” he said. “I only just met you, but if Eldrian trusts you, so do I.”

The redhead beamed with delight. “Thank you! I feel the same. Yes, this man Xeno is dangerous. He can control others, so there should be two of us, in case innocents are involved and need to be subdued. Eldrian told me you are a druid, yes? That is most useful for this situation. And you are very handsome, so it will be nice to fight along side you.”

“Uh. Thanks,” Daveon replied with a nod.

It was Eldrian who spoke once again. “So we all have a general idea of what we need to do, but the fact of the matter is that there's no way we can predict anything. Who knows what'll happen? We haven't even seen Asta fight. But she gave us this opportunity to confront her directly. At least she isn't a coward. It makes me feel kind of bad for doing this. I've never known a demon to be so fair.”

“But she's been trying to kill us,” said Deena.

“True, but she just seems odd. There's too much determination behind her intentions considering we didn't do anything to her. Something must have happened. You're right, though. We need to stop her. People could have died with Rend on the loose. Pachama did die indirectly from all of this. Kev's dad was shot, and Kev was kidnapped. Ren was forced to be an assassin for Xeno.”

Renatta giggled. “I like that nickname,” she whispered.

Eldrian cleared his throat—a little distracted. “And she's been dispensing this powerful artifact about like it's nothing. People could still get hurt. People might have died that we don't know about. If there's any of the Elixir of Strength left, we need to get it back to Huanca and Urco. As for the rest, I'm not really sure. It seems like Asta doesn't work with the government, but we can't just throw her to them for a multitude of reasons. However, we need to fight together nonetheless. We can't think about that right now, nor can we be distracted. I don't want anybody to come if they feel unsure of themselves, because know that this battle will be dangerous. So just to make sure, I'm going to ask one more time. Who's willing to come with me to confront Asta and her band of misfits?”

“Me, of course,” Kevin answered immediately.

“You already know I will,” whispered Deena.

“I've come this far from home already. I'll do everything I can to help,” Daveon said.

“Oh. Is it my turn?” Renatta asked. “Of course I am coming!”

“Good to hear.” Eldrian smiled.

He rose up his arms, and rings fell over him to replace his attire with his wizard's cloak. He was now garbed in dark blue, fantastical attire, as he normally would before a fight, and he turned from his allies to begin stepping from the room.

“We have until tomorrow. Until then, we make use of Deena's training cave,” he added. “I can't afford to be so easily halted by Asta like before. Not when our lives are at stake.”

So with that, they proceeded into the dimly lit cavern expanse. It seemed much smaller than Eldrian remembered it was when he practised here alone, but it would do for the time. He looked around, and it made him eager to see his allies start preparing so quickly.

Kevin summoned forth his magic blade, and it was obvious he had been training in his free time, because moves looked to come more naturally to him. He was light on his toes, and the blade's sharp edge cut through the air as if it was nothing. And beside him, even though Daveon's power was more potent where wildlife grew, he began summoning vines and transforming into various animals.

Deena was sitting on a boulder and reading a large tome. He assumed she was studying up on spells, which seemed to be more of her way, unlike himself. Though he preferred to learn more hands-on, he was comfortable somebody had the book knowledge situations might call for. Renatta was nosey at first, trying to read the book over her shoulder, but she eventually lost interest and went on her way to practicing her combat maneuvers. Smart, he thought, since magic might be stopped by Asta.

Eldrian, however, always focused mostly on his wizardry. He had a creative mind. He didn't know martial arts, nor was his body overly strong, but he was clever, and his attachment to magic knew no limits. That kind of wizard was to fear the most, for a wizard's potential reaches a peak relative to their determination, aspiration, and imagination. If one has no limitations for these, especially the latter, not even they would know their own possibilities. He tried out new spells. Dark Lightning was tricky to control, as it was mixing two different chaotic elements together, but it was powerful. Eldrian practised that, but also a few new tricks. He knew he needed them. It was only three opponents—hopefully—but two were affected by an ancient artifact and one was a spellbreaker.

The clock ticked onwards. Soon, it was time, and they were as ready as they could be.

***

There was only a run-down house next to a barn among the remnants of what was once acres of crops, presumably. Eldrian didn't know why they were to meet her at an abandoned farm, but it did make sense if none of them wanted to be seen. Plus, things could get destroyed. It still made him uneasy, even if the sun was still out. It looked like something out of a ghost movie from where he stood.

Eldrian, Deena, and even Renatta did look relatively clothed for the occasion considering them being wizards, though Kevin and Daveon still wore what they normally did. They marched, but it didn't take long to see Asta leaning on the front porch, Ron standing nearby, and Xeno arching over a cracked barrel. Both sides of the war were waiting for this moment.

The grey-skinned brute Ron slid the cigar out from between his teeth, and pressed the lit edge against the palm of his hand, sizzling out the flame without even a flinch. He flicked it aside, cracked his neck, and sprinted full-force towards the group without a word from the others.

Daveon, quick to think, tripped him with a vine at the same moment Eldrian released a wave of energy. Ron flew through the air, and crashed with a violent thud several feet away and near the waiting witch.

“I'm glad you came,” shouted Asta as she stepped down from the porch.

She rose up her mace, and she was dressed now in what looked to be a bullet-proof vest, like a soldier. However, something else was new as well. She had a silver ring on her other hand he hadn't taken notice to previously. It shone bright, and he saw that as she spoke, it transformed into a steel, disk-like shield strapped around her arm. It was decorated with a blue gemstone in the center, as well as four smaller ones around the outside.

“Aegis of Light!” she shouted, as a command phrase, to cause this transformation to occur, similar to Kevin's Drodias. “You and your friends, Eldrian, will be the first major step in removing all wizards from the world. Then nobody will have to be hurt anymore.”

He looked to his left. Deena had already begun dealing with the rampaging Ron. Making their way around the back of the house in a chase were Renatta, Daveon, and Xeno. This left only him and Kevin facing Asta in front of the building.

“Summon sword, Drodias!” yelled Kevin in response.

Asta raised a brow. “You have a magic weapon as well?”

“It was a gift from a friend,” he replied.

Eldrian looked to his friend. He nodded, and so did Kevin. They both the looked to Asta in unison and took deep breaths.

“Are you ready, Kev?”

“Ready freddy.”

Meanwhile, Deena was out in the fields facing the smooth-headed thug. His vacant white eyes started the witch down. He remembered what happened last time. However, it didn't seem to phase him. He grinned wide as they stood twenty feet apart in an uneasy stand-off.

“So you have magic eyes because of the Elixir,” he stated.

Ron shrugged. “Guess so. Don't know that much about all this magic stuff, besides what the lady told us. She said she'd pay us big if we took ya guys out of the picture, so that's what we're gonna do. And don't think I forgot how much pain a put me through. Witch? More like bitch.”

She glared. “You're always smoking. You know, that's unhealthy.”

“What the hell do I care?”

“Because I'm going to show you why smoke billowing from our mouth all the time is really bad for you.”

“Ya want to try something? Go ahead.”

A sweeping wave of dark flames came from Deena's fingernails as she clawed the air in front of her person, but as expecting, the heat brushed across Ron's face without even a flinch to his reaction. The burning didn't even affect his eyes. With a wave of his own hands, he cleared away the cinders and smoke and began running towards Deena to direct a hard fist to her face.

“I don't wanna beat a little girl, but—huh?” he gasped.

His fist hit nothing, as Deena was now behind him.

She rose up her arms to reach for the air above her. A presence swooped up her form that looked like nothing more than a casting shadow, but it twirled about her as if something was there, but the only evidence was the darkness it left behind. Directly where Ron stood, a similar thing occurred. A circle of shadow came up from his feet.

“Get dragged down to hell!” shouted Deena.

The claw of a creature made entirely of black burst up from beneath him and wrapped entirely around his body. It yanked him downwards, slamming his body's weight into a crater in the soil. It proceeded to hold him there. It wasn't unlike Daveon's entangle now, but at least ten times more spooky. Phantom Grasp!

His skin was unbreakable, but he still coughed as his spine made a powerful impact. He grumbled and struggled, but at least for the time being, he was unable to escape. Deena needed to channel this, however, so she maintained a pose of her arms and fingers.

“This is ridiculous,” he growled. “She said I was impenetrable!”

He swung out both of his arms, and tore through the demon claw enveloping his body. Deena stepped back. Ron lifted himself up and twitched an eye with an obvious show of rage, and now he was free.

“I told ya. Nothing can get through me, or stop me, and ya don't have someone to distract me from your fancy-schmancy voodoo like last time,” he added.

“That wasn't technically voodoo...”

“You're dead. What even are ya? This is a big man's world.”

Deena stood there. It was only the two of them around. She didn't know where the others were beyond them being somewhere around the farm, and she wasn't at the liberty to check. She couldn't worry either. The fight she faced was important, and she had to trust the others could manage. It was a strange feeling. Deena thought that a couple weeks ago, such a worry wouldn't have even crossed her mind in the first place.

“What am I?” she replied. “I'm a witch. And you're just another ant I need to step on.”