#and he TOTALLY believes that cause hes still too stubborn to see that the empire doesnt ACTUALLY care about him

[kissingarthurclaus]

@limey-self-inserts LMAO RIGHT 😂😂 at least in the first season of the bad batch + like half of the second one, he remained like STUBBORNLY his worst self for a long while.

When I was talking about it with my partner, I was thinking about just how much of an ASSHOLE he was to Rex. And what he SAID to Rex about Echo during that arc in season 7 "I would have left him for dead too, after all he's just another reg" like BRO WHAT? That's why I hated him so much at first = _ = and that's also why I figured it's not out of the realm of possibility for him to say something like that to Brea! Maybe he didn't really mean what he said about Kep but he DEFINITELY just wanted to hurt Rex.

Like...I imagine he and Brea haven't been in contact for a while but he's been thinking about her this whole time you know? Maybe he's even thought about trying to reach out to her but his dumb pride doesn't let him, and then when they see each other again it's too late. Not sure how he finds out but she's clearly in love with Rex now, a REG, something Crosshair inherently dislikes but he now HATES. Not to mention when order 66 happens, Crosshair can feel that pull, less so than an unaltered clone but he still feels it and it's probably FUELED by his feelings of betrayal BY Brea. The jedi are traitors according to his coding, but she specifically betrayed HIM in his mind. And for THAT they must pay.

[dokoni-mo]

Far Away, Together || Darth Vader x Reader (Chapter 3)

(A/N: hello all yet again! welcome back to my little series here on this little cite!! :) I am so glad that y’all have been enjoying my series thus far. I have had a blast writing it and seeing y’all’s reactions to it. As always, please feel free to ask to be on the taglist for this, or just ask questions about the series in general! I love talking with yall :))) links for the previous chapters have been provided below. This is where the series is really gonna start picking up, so stay tuned!!! also, do I see the smut chapter on the horizon? I believe I do...) 

Chapter One: [x]

Chapter Two: [x]

Chapter Four: [x]

WARNINGS: slight angst, a bit of crying, mentions of death (nothing too serious), cursing, otherwise none!! 

Key: (F/N) = first name, (L/N) = last name 

Word Count: ~4600

Peace and tranquility were two old friends that had not visited in a long time. Yet, they finally came for one today. 

After cleaning yourself off that morning and hastily getting yourself ready, you had made your way over to the site of our new workstation: Lord Vader’s personal hangar, primarily used for entering and exiting the Super Star Destroyer on his TIE. 

The walk to your new station was everything but pleasant. Everyone had seemed to know exactly what you were up to. This is partially due to the fact that you were now the talk-of-the-town amongst your peers. Some new-face baby coming here and getting one of the highest positions imaginable so damn quickly? Unheard of. Getting picked out personally by the Dark Lord himself? Impossible. Unimaginable. How could someone like (L/N) manage to pull off the impossible? 

This was also partially due to the direction you were headed. Anyone walking this direction was always eyed by those around them, if they didn’t happen to look exactly like some odd mouse droid. Lord Vader’s hangar was located dangerously close to his personal quarters. Everyone knew that it was the number one unwritten rule of working on this empirical vessel: Do NOT enter Lord Vader’s personal quarters under any circumstance. Unless you wanted to be dead within a matter of mere seconds, do NOT enter that room. Everyone had heard the stories of those who had tried. A stormtrooper who came out with his neck snapped, a woman who was impaled with his lightsaber, each one more terrifying than the last. So, as your polished, black boots clacked right in that direction, it was only natural that you got some stares and silent prayers for your safety. 

You thanked them silently and unconsciously, but you knew exactly what you were doing.

Following the directions that the old officer gave you, you eventually made your ways over to the new doors of the new hangar. The doors were almost exactly like him. Tall, dark, cold, unforgiving, to name a few characteristics. As you stood before them, you felt an odd feeling of nervousness in the bottom of your diaphragm, your fingers trembling all so slightly. 

If I ever piss him off, you thought to yourself, there is no one around to hear me scream.

But who would care? 

Who would dare challenge the Dark Lord himself? 

No one. No one at all. So, don’t screw this up, (F/N). 

Without turning your head, you let your eyes fall to the keypad adjacent to the door, it's buttons emanating a soft glow. Reaching out a hand, you punched in the digits that the old man gave you to allow you access into the hangar. You were surprised that the code actually worked, despite you knowing that it would. In the back of your head, you had still thought that maybe that old officer was somehow toying with you. That door opening was confirmation that this was no sick joke. 

Stepping into that hangar almost felt like stepping right into the jaws of some beast. The hangar looked almost exactly like your last one, only smaller. However, you instantly noticed that it was much quieter than the one you had started with. Much emptier, too. The only thing within the whole hangar was one workbench full of tools, a few crates of unknown contents, one mechanic who’s heartbeat was thumping a mile a minute, and one destroyed TIE Advanced x1. 

Despite the atmosphere of unease, you smiled brightly at your surroundings.

It was so quiet. Tranquil, even. 

You were so happy to finally be able to work in peace.

As your first action as Darth Vader’s personal mechanic, you quickly ripped off your uniform jacket and threw it on the ground, giving it a kick and a stomp. You hated that thing. And, Lord Vader never seemed to mind you breaking your dress code. So, you decided that your new uniform was your pants, boots, goggles, and tank top.

Eat shit, Empire. 

Your second action was to immediately get to work.

~~~

The silence was much more deafening than you had originally thought. 

Yes, it was nice not having to listen to the annoying chatter of the other workers in your prior hangar, but this was something else. The silence had let you slip into your own thoughts far too often, much the opposite to your liking. Thinking let your mind wander, and you had a tendency to think about impossible scenarios. Going back home, seeing your family again, finding a new job, to name a few. 

The diagnostic had returned nothing of great importance, thank the stars. Just some alerts of wires being fried. Nothing that you couldn’t handle.

Right now, sweat was leaving a heavy sheen on your forehead, and your arms and legs were screaming for some sort of rest. You were currently trying to make some progress to the destroyed wing of the craft, a way to take a break from trying to turn the damn computer back online. And, this wing was giving you no sort of break. Of course it wouldn’t, (F/N). Nothing is ever easy anymore.

You currently had the biggest wrench you had on your workbench wrapped tightly in your grasp, to the point where it made your knuckles white and your palms burn. Your nose and eyes were scrunched, your teeth bore for all to see as you tensed your shoulders and pulled the tool towards you with all your might. You needed this bolt off for you to gain access to the ligaments of the wing that held it onto the TIE. You had tried everything else to get it off (burning it off, freezing it off, and even praying to your maker while giving the ship a swift kick in the ass), but nothing had seemed to work. You were only left with one last tactic: hoping your brute strength was enough to pry off the stubborn piece of shit. 

Tears had started to brim in your eyes from the stress of your pulling. Your arms were so tired, and your legs were equally as such. Relaxing your muscles suddenly, you loosened  your grip on the wrench, finally allowing yourself to exhale. Panting in silence for a moment, you turned your hands over to inspect them. They were much redder than normal, and the joints in your fingers ached like hell.

Looking down at your hands in silence, you were overcome with an emotion you had no way of describing.

Why were you here? Why did you even accept this job in the first place? Things were so much simpler when the Empire hadn’t come to your home planet, when it was just you, mom, and dad. You could have run. You could have gone with them off-world, but you didn’t believe them. You didn’t believe that the Empire would totally destroy your home. You didn’t believe that the Empire would force you into working for them just so that you could have some sense of protection. You didn’t believe that if you had stepped into their hands, you would never see your home or parents again. 

Liars, you had thought back then, mom and dad do not see the truth. 

Oh, how wrong you were. 

If you could turn back time right then and right there, you would punch your past self in the face for being so fucking blind. 

You didn’t notice that you were crying until you felt something warm and wet drop against your palm. Focusing your attention back, you stared deeply at the small puddle on your palm. Letting your mind brew a few moments longer, you frowned deeply as you closed your eyes and bunched your hands into fists. You leaned against the surface of the TIE Advanced, covering your face from the outside world. 

Maker above, please, grant me the power to turn back the hands of time. Even for just one day. 

Your legs finally giving out, you slowly slid down the surface of the ship until you were crouched on the cold, shiny floor, your tears now only a slight trickle. Forgetting exactly where you were, why you were there, and who exactly was your boss, you sniffled as you allowed yourself to lay on the ground, your legs and arms sighing in relief.

Staring up at the ceiling above you, you had noticed that there was a small window garnishing the roof of the hangar. This had caused you to let out a small chuckle past your tears. Something added to this damn ship purely for aesthetics? You must be going crazy. 

Looking at the window, you let your eyes be transfixed on the view that the tiny opening provided. The stars were just barely visible from your point of view, like miniscule flecks of dust. A fleeting moment of relaxation overtaking you, a thought quickly made its way across your brain. 

I need to get back to work. 

You made no attempt to do so as you felt your eyelids become heavier and heavier.

~~~

He had only the faintest idea of exactly how long you had been there when he found you. 

He had sensed your force energy waver from halfway across the Super Star Destroyer. The sheer amount of anger and frustration emanating off of your person was surprising. He had thought that you were the more calm and collected type, but reminded himself that human emotions were common. It surprised him that someone as small as you could feel such overwhelming amounts of anger. Being a sith lord, he would say that he was almost impressed. However, something inside of him kept him from feeling as such. 

Instead, he felt… saddened. He didn’t exactly know why. 

As fast as your immense feeling of anger came, it went. Sensing this new feeling within you, his attention was piqued. 

A deep sadness. A melancholy, even.

For a moment, he couldn’t tell where exactly he had felt such a thing before. He did not have to delve far into this memory before realizing exactly where he has sensed such strong feelings prior to now. 

He had felt them from within himself. 

As he was currently in a meeting with some high-ranking officers and a handful of moffs, he knew he couldn’t step away so suddenly and without warning without them pestering him. He did not like to be pestered. Yet, something deep down inside him told him to go to you, to check on you and make sure that you were…

No. He had more important matters to attend to, he told himself. 

Continuing on with his meeting, he couldn’t help but feel an odd sensation bubble within the core of his being. It pulled him away from the meeting, and beckoned him to leave these people and direct his attention towards you.  

There are more important matters to attend to, he had tried to tell himself, but his thoughts did nothing to silence the voice telling him to leave. 

After a long moment or two, he felt what was left of his natural body stiffen beneath the leather and robotics that encased him. Honing in on your force energy once again, he felt a cold feeling run through the web of nerves that remained within his body. Your presence had faded suddenly, a shadow of itself only a few moments prior. He couldn’t tell what you were feeling. 

Surprising him, he felt his mind race with various scenarios of what could have happened. Was something finally fixed on the ship? Had you inadvertently broken something further? Were you taking a break?

He clenched his fist when the most worrisome thought of all popped inside of his head, making all the others fade away into nothing. 

Were you dead?

He tried in vain to calm himself of the thought and put it to rest. He had seen you only the night before, and you appeared to be in perfect health. You had even smiled. This did little to calm him, however. As he would try to focus on what these idiotic officers had to say, his mind would always slip back to you. 

A great sense of frustration started to smother him whole, causing him to clench his fist even tighter. He was frustrated that he could not pay attention to the meeting. He was frustrated that he had to attend the meeting in the first place. He was frustrated that these officers and moffs were so damn stupid. However, most of all…

He was frustrated that he couldn’t go to you. 

He was frustrated that you had such a profound effect on him. You were just his mechanic. Why did he care whether you were dead or alive? You could be replaced. 

...couldn’t you?

The second that words were spoken to signal the end of the meeting, he had turned and exited the meeting room, the wind of his fast exit making his cape flutter behind him. He sensed that the other men in the room were confused and almost startled by his sudden departure, but he didn’t care. He had to go to his hangar immediately. 

Marching past all the other workers of the Super Star Destroyer in his path, he ignored all who tried to grab his attention. Idiots. Fools. Worms. 

Couldn’t they see that he was in a hurry?

But why was he? 

Why was he so in need to see you? To hear your voice and see your eyes? To hear a report on your progress? 

Because (F/N) is my mechanic. Nothing more, he told himself. Why did it feel like a lie? 

Finally at the doors of his hangar, he punched in his code to the keypad and stepped through the doors. The space was eerily quiet, and this unnerved him. Were his suspicions true? 

Hastily making his way over to your workstation, he couldn't help but notice the palm of your small hand capsized on the floor in front of his TIE, the rest of your body obscured by a crate in the way. 

No. 

No.

This cannot be.

Quickening his pace, he moved his hand to extend in front of him. Reaching out with the force, he threw the crate covering the sight of you across the hangar, it’s landing making an unholy crashing noise. 

As he drew closer to you, he noticed how you were laid on the floor, one hand stretched to an unknown receiver and the other pulled close to your chest. You were resting on your side, and, unsurprisingly, your jacket was long since discarded. He did not blame you for hating that infernal article of clothing. 

Finally within conversation distance to you, he stopped his quick pace and pointed the face of his mask to look at the tiny frame at his feet. Watching you carefully, he noticed that your chest and shoulders were slowly rising and falling in a rhythmic beat. 

You were alive. 

He pretended not to notice the feeling of relief wash over him.

~~~

When you finally awoke again, you were immediately hit with three startling realizations. 

Number one: you had no idea how much time had elapsed since you were looking at that window. Squinting your eyes to open slightly, you tried to process the time based on the amount of light within the hangar. This was hard to do, however, since you were still very groggy from your sleep. A for effort anyway. 

Number two: you were no longer on the floor where you had originally laid down. You could tell this from the feeling of one of your legs dangling off the edge of the object you were laying on, as well as the same feeling in one of your hands. This was confirmed as you pulled in your hands close to your chest, turned your torso, and pushed yourself up with wobbling arms. Your mind was still very fuzzy, but you were just able to make out the foregin surface beneath you. From the patterns on its surface, you deduced that it was one of the crates that littered your workstation.

Number three, and probably the most frightening of all: you were not alone. After a moment of your grogginess slipping off of your body, your ears finally turned back into your consciousness. They told you of the noise they heard, and the fear you should be feeling as a result of it. 

Heavy, mechanical, rhythmic, breath. 

His breath. 

Taking a quick glance up from the surface of the crate, you beckoned your eyes to tell you whether or not your two ears were the biggest liars in the galaxy or not. Of course, they weren’t. Before you was that silhouette you knew all too well. 

Shit. 

Quickly rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you scrambled to try and stand up and assume your attention stance. You found this difficult, however, since your muscles were still aching from before. 

Oh maker, you thought, is this how I die?

“My Lord! Lord Vader!” you were able to say, your eyes finally able to focus on your boss. After a moment of processing the sight before you, you thought that maybe you were dreaming, or somehow hit your head on the way down to the ground. Lord Vader was about ten feet away from you, his buff arms folded across his large, taunt chest, and his gaze locked firmy on your frame. All of these were not surprising. What was surprising, is that he was doing all of this from a seated position upon another crate, only this one had obvious scratches and skid marks on it. Was it always like that?

You realized that this was the first time that you had ever seen Darth Vader sit down. He was always standing, always looming above everyone you ever saw. But, even as he was in a more neutral and open position, he was still very intimidating. If anything, he looked even bigger and more dominating than when he was standing up. 

You hoped he didn’t notice how your cheeks turned pink as you beheld him before you. 

“My Lord, my apologies you have to see me this way, I-I have no idea...” you began to speak. If he was going to kill you, he was sure taking his sweet time with it. He had every reason to do so. You were resting on the job. Not even pretending to do your job, on the first damn day no less! This would have been met with the harshest punishments by the officers. And, if the stories had taught you anything, Lord Vader’s would be even harsher. 

Trying to formulate the rest of your apology, you were also trying again and again to stand at attention. Your arms and legs, however, had different plans. Their weakness kept you firmly in your sitting position upon the crate. This only made the internal panic for your life stronger. Lord Vader detested weakness. Saw it as only a burden, and would be eradicated swiftly and unkindly. 

After a few attempts to stand and choke out an apology, Lord Vader rose from his sitting position, letting his strong arms fall to his sides. Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit. He was coming to kill you. You knew it. You would be dead here in a matter of minutes, sliced in two by his red saber. 

Adrenaline kicking in, you hoped that the hormone would give you the strength to stand once again. Nothing.

Vader stepped slowly and decisively closer to you, his gaze still locked upon you. Despite the rapid beating of your heart and your brain telling you to run as fast as you could, you stayed put. Lowering your head, you stared down at your feet and sighed quietly, taking a long, slow blink. If he was going to kill you, you hoped that he would give you at least the mercy of making it as quick as possible. 

Once he stopped about three feet away from you, you closed your eyes and braced yourself to hear the sound of his saber igniting in his grasp. 

This never came.

Instead, you felt something heavy, strong, and leathery make contact with your left shoulder. It was enormous, and dwarfed the joint in almost every way. Picking up your head, you darted your eyes over to the source of the pressure. Following your gaze from the touch, you followed it to its source. 

Lord Vader. 

His hand was on your shoulder. 

Maybe you really had hit your head on your way to the ground. 

“(F/N),” he said, his mask pointed squarely on your face, “I have been waiting some time for you to awaken. Do you wish to tell me why I have found you in such a state?” 

Oh yeah. You definitely hit your head on the way down. 

Licking your bottom lip and swallowing, you paused a moment before responding. You decided to tell the truth. If he wanted me dead, you figured, he would’ve killed me already. He doesn’t seem the type to draw these things out.

“I… I was trying to loosen one of the bolts on your TIE, my Lord. I tried many methods to remove it, but none of them worked. So, I thought that I would try and just try and pry it off myself. I guess I tried too hard because I just felt so weak all the sudden… Please pardon me, my Lord, I was not trying to avoid my work.” You said, letting your gaze fall only briefly as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. You felt your cheeks burn brighter the longer he had his hand on your shoulder. 

“I see.” he said flatly, taking his hand off of you and placing it on his belt alongside his other hand. Perhaps it was because it had been so long since you felt something like it, but you quickly missed the feeling of his hand upon your body.

“I do hope that you have enough strength to continue on with the day, Miss (F/N). I can see that you are making good progress, and it would be a shame if you did not continue as such.” he continued, tilting his head to the side. 

“Y-yes, My Lord. I can continue on with the day.” 

“Good.” he responded. Lifting up his hand once again, he unfurled it from it's gripping position, pointing his palm towards the ceiling as he extended it within your gripping distance. It took you a second of staring at his hand dumbly for you to register what exactly he was doing. “Do not allow me to keep you occupied then, Miss (F/N).”

Flicking your gaze from his hand to his mask over and over again, you hesitantly lifted your hand, your fingers loose. Gently placing your hand within his, another shot of blush made its way onto your cheeks. Your hand was noticeably smaller than his, your palm and fingers being dwarfed by his own. You could barely wrap your hand around his. 

Once your grip was secure, Lord Vader wrapped his robotic digits around your grasp. Cue another shot of blush on your cheeks. His grip was strong, secure, stable.

Deep down within you, you wondered what it would feel like to have his hands on other parts of your body. 

Helping you bring you to your feet, Lord Vader flexed his arm to pull you up off the crate. The strong motion definitely helping you to your feet, your legs only wobbling in protest for a moment before allowing you to stand again.

You were now awfully close to Lord Vader. 

Only about a foot away, your hand still wrapped tightly in his. 

Realizing that you had forgotten to pull your hand back, you blushed for what seemed like the fifteen-millionth time that day and slowly pulled it back. You kept your neck craned as you looked up at him, your height different now more apparent than ever. Looking right into the eyes of his black, menacing mask you mumbled out a quiet thank you, my Lord. 

The two of you stood dead-locked in a galaxy-wide championship of a staring contest for a long while. The only sound that interrupted the silence between two of you were his breath and the distant rumbling of the engines of the Super Star Destroyer. Many thoughts darted through your head as you looked right at him, trying to see if you could see his eyes beneath the mask’s.

What exactly is his game here? Why didn’t he just kill me? Am I that important? Of course not, I’m just a mechanic, he could always get another one. Then why? I wish I could see his face. Don’t think that, (F/N), that would never happen. I want him to touch me again. STOP THAT, (F/N). I don’t want him to leave. I want… 

Stop humoring yourself, (F/N). He sees you as his mechanic. Nothing more. 

It was him that broke the silence again. A simple sentence, nothing more.

“Do not dawdle any longer, (F/N). I will return again for another report at a later time.” 

You gave him a nod and a courteous yes, my Lord before he turned to leave, walking off yet again. 

Sighing to yourself, you returned to your earlier position, wrapping your hand around the wrench that was still wrapped around the bolt from before. You had hoped that the bolt would have just magically loosened itself from the time you had fallen asleep to now. 

With a brief complaint from your arms, you tried pulling the wrench towards you once again. Big shocker, it still didn't move. Cursing to yourself silently, you tried again. Want an even bigger shocker? It still didn’t move. Surprising, isn’t it?

Taking a step back to try and think of some other way that you could pry off this bolt, you shook out the pain from your hands, your brow furrowing. 

You thought that you must be hallucinating as you stared at the wrench. Without you even touching it, the wrench had started to turn towards you, taking the stubborn bolt along with it. Your confusion only grew as it repeated this motion a few more times until, suddenly, and without warning, the bolt came undone, crashing on the floor with the wrench. The sudden noise made you flinch and jump back, your mouth opening in a silent yelp. 

You were beyond bewildered. How the hell did that happen? Are you high? Hallucinating?

Quickly putting two and two together, you turned your body to the door, your lips parting. Sure enough, there he was, his hand extended it the direction of the wrench and bolt, fingers relaxed. You couldn’t believe it. You had heard the stories of this power before, his power, but you didn’t believe them. You thought it had just been people exaggerating the level of his strength. But, now, you knew that it sure as fuck wasn’t. 

You should have been scared. You should have cowered in fear, knowing that all the legends you heard were true. Yet, you didn’t. You couldn’t, even. 

All you could do was smile. Smile like a dopey, bumbling idiot and laugh in disbelief. 

You had no idea what came over you.

Calling out a hasty thank you, my Lord, you hoped that you didn’t look as girlish and giddy to him as you felt. You hadn’t smiled like this in such a long time. 

Offering nothing more than a long look and a nod, Lord Vader left the hangar, leaving you alone there once more. 

You ate an extra ration that night, the ghost of Vader’s touch still lingering in your nerves.

How you craved for him to do it again.  

~~

TAGS: @spaghetti-666�� , @soullesstaco​ , @arsonistvoyager​ , @robin-obsessed​ , @glitter-rian​ , @captainrexstan​ , @easterncryptid​ , @deviatedwinter​ , @roseangel013bf​ , @danicalifxrnia​ 

[whatapunk]

Holy butts I wrote a second chapter!! I am soooo thankful for everyone who liked or reblogged the first chapter because truly, truly, truly you gave me more motivation than you could possibly realize! 

A couple things: 

I’ve included dialogue from the s02e01 scene where Kanan and Hera have a very Han/Leia hallway argument and I definitely don’t want to take credit for such things (I only wanted to add it to help me with my flow a bit)

Right now I’m firmly trying so very hard to fit it perfectly into canon (it’s just something I like doing, idk) but eventually it might go a lil more AU, I just haven’t decided yet

This shit had me on wookieepedia searching the most random stuff, but rest assured, there is garlic in the Star Wars universe

Enjoy!

Title: Endings

Fandom: Star Wars Rebels

Relationship: Kanan Jarrus/Hera Syndulla; Kanan Jarrus/female OC

Rating: t for now, m in future chapters (I'm guessing) for language and some non-explicit intimacy

Word Count: 2446

Previous Chapters: Ch. 1

Chapter 2

Kanan sat on the step ladder leading up to the Liberator’s control panels. His presence was a silent mark of informality in the middle of the crew’s debriefing meeting with Commander Sato. The rest of the crew, plus Ahsoka, stood around the holo-console in the middle of the floor. Sato was saying something about the Ghost crew- his crew- but Kanan was barely half listening. For one, every other word that came out of Sato’s mouth was some military formality and, thus, not something that interested him in the slightest. But the main reason he wasn’t listening was that Rhia Denley’s image was still burned into his thoughts.

Seven years. When you hadn’t seen someone in this galaxy for seven years, you started to assume you never would again. At least, that’s how Kanan had felt. 

However, suddenly she was here again- she existed again, something Kanan had tried hard to convince himself wasn’t even true. It was easier to convince himself she was something he’d imagined than for him to remember her and the way she’d crushed his young heart years ago. Besides, thinking about that heartache had always made him feel guilty once Hera was in his life. Now, however, he was feeling so many things he didn’t even have room for guilt.

What he did have room for was a hefty amount of bitterness, and for more than one reason. First of all, he was already bitter before Rhia showed up; he’d hardly hidden his feelings and had become almost spiteful about how they had been sucked into a military operation. But even that wasn’t totally separate from his thoughts about Rhia.

Rhia and Kanan had become a “thing” on Gorse, very soon after Kanan had set up what passed as a life there. Their meeting was by chance, but they had run into each other briefly when he was even younger and worked with a smuggler named Janus Kasmir. It was actually Rhia who told him about low-profile jobs on Gorse then, so he wasn’t altogether surprised that she ended up there eventually too. While he wasn’t much more than a kid when they first met, when they reconnected on Gorse, he was older and far more interesting to Rhia. They quickly became infatuated with one another for the better part of four months, which was practically a lifelong commitment to Kanan. Before Hera, Rhia was the longest relationship he’d ever been in. 

Rhia, however, had bigger goals than being a bartender’s girlfriend and working as a miner on Cynda. Rhia, much like Hera, was interested in the Rebellion. She’d made this clear early on, but she didn’t try to preach to Kanan, and he’d liked that about her. However, once she’d found a connection to a group of Rebels on the Holonet, she had tried- more than once- to get him to come with her. That’s what made running into her here, of all places, all the more exasperating and awkward. He’d ended up here anyway, despite his countless protestations- and he didn’t even want to be.

Seeing Rhia again reminded him, among other things, of all of the reasons he told her he didn’t want to join the Rebellion. And that reminded him that they were all still true.

Kanan heard Sato say something about the Spectres being “invaluable,” and then suddenly Chopper burst into the meeting, much to Commander Sato and Hera’s dismay. He was going on about an emergency incoming transmission, and, frankly, Kanan welcomed the change. His bitterness with this situation, this Rebellion- this meeting had reached its peak.

***

Less than ten minutes later, Kanan’s bitterness had already gotten him into trouble, and with Hera, no less. 

After telling Chopper to play his transmission during a “secret debriefing,” Hera had scowled at him for the rest of the meeting. He’d tried to rush out and get out of her line of fire once they were dismissed, but she’d caught him in the hallway and firmly let him know he wasn’t authorized to do that.

“Authorization! Procedure! That’s what’s bothering me!” he’d raised his voice, uncaring of the people that were attempting to walk past them as they argued. 

Hera put her hands up gently, sighing at having finally gotten him to drop the passive aggressive quips about their work lately. It wasn’t hard to guess what had been bothering him, but he was a grown adult who should be able to talk to her, of all people.

“All right. Talk to me,” she said, lowering her voice. Kanan sighed and did the same.

“After this mission, I want us to go back on our own,” he said firmly. “Fighting alongside soldiers isn’t what I signed up for.” At that, Hera frowned at him and shoved him into an open doorway, pointing a gloved finger in his face.

“You seem to be forgetting these soldiers helped save your life,” she said, looking at him with those big eyes that could be both demanding and softening at the same time. After that remark, he couldn’t meet them.

“And I’m grateful,” he started, “but that doesn’t mean I want to join their little army. When you and I started together, it was ‘Rob from the Empire, give to the needy,’ a noble cause. Now we’re getting drawn into some kind of military thing! I don’t like it.” 

Somehow Hera’s voice became more serious and more earnest.

“We are fighting a bigger fight, but it’s still the right fight,” she said, all but pleading with him to understand that they’d been fighting in the name of the Rebellion all along. Kanan wasn’t having it.

“I survived one war. I’m not ready for another one,” he said, turning away from her. She grabbed his arm. “I saw what it did.”

“To the Jedi?” she asked, almost whispering. He looked back at her.

“To everyone.” He left the doorway and continued walking down the hall, hearing Hera’s exasperated sigh behind him. 

Kanan loved virtually everything about Hera, even her flaws. She was incredibly stubborn, but since he was so go-with-the-flow, it never really got in their way. In fact, it practically complimented his own personality. She would get adamant and obsessed over something, and he would follow her anywhere and do anything she asked of him. At least, that’s how things had gone for them for the past seven years, right up until the formal Rebellion had rescued him from the Grand Inquisitor. Now it was suddenly a reality of Kanan’s world that he was part of a military operation and that could only lead to one thing: war. 

Hera had been familiar with war her whole life, but not in the same way Kanan had. He’d fought in battles as a young teen alongside his master, Depa Billaba and seen the realities of it all over the galaxy. Hera’s own world was war-torn, for sure, but her role in that war was far different than Kanan’s. For the first time since he’d met her, he felt like she was incapable of understanding him.

Kanan headed to the only place he really wanted to be right now: his quarters on Ghost. He felt like meditating, if only for the quiet. He lost himself in his thoughts there for maybe an hour, and eventually his sour attitude had at least subsided. He remembered his harsh tone with Hera and his obvious instigation of Chopper in the meeting. He still didn’t care about what Sato thought, but he felt bad for making Hera look bad. Now, it felt like such a childish thing to have done.

He left his quarters and, once seeing the Ghost was still empty, he went back out into the bay. It was less busy now, as most of the cargo that littered the area earlier had been taken elsewhere by now. His eyes scanned for Hera; he knew he should apologize to her. When he didn’t see her, or any of the Spectres, he set off down one of the hallways that he believed led to the commissary. He hadn’t taken the time to get to know his way around this ship (by design) so he honestly had no clue where to start looking for her. He’d gone pretty far without seeing anything resembling a commissary and was about to turn around when an amazing aroma hit him and made his stomach growl: garlic. 

Something told him to follow the smell, which led him down a corridor that opened up to a large galley. Standing in front of a pan sizzling on the stove, as Kanan had expected, was Rhia. She looked up at him, surprised, but then smiled.

“I should have known this would attract you,” she said with a smirk, then turned her attention back to the sizzling pan, stirring the contents with a wooden spoon. 

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to get me here,” Kanan added, grabbing a seat at an empty table near the stove. “You know how I feel about your cooking.” She looked up and grinned at him.

“The same way everyone does,” she said, confidently. She left the pan and attended to a cutting board with what looked like an onion and some kind of pepper on it. 

Kanan’s stomach growled again. Rhia was an amazing cook and loved every piece of food he’d ever seen her hold. She only ever ate ration bars or drank nutritive milk when she absolutely had to. Otherwise, she kept her own stock of spices and quality ingredients and went well out of her way (and budget) to get fresh produce. Kanan’s mind drifted back to memories of watching Rhia cooking in her kitchen on Gorse. He remembered breakfast with eggs and some sort of mushroom, watching her move her hands skillfully around knives and pans and the ingredients, often wearing nothing but-

“So,” Rhia started, pulling Kanan out of his memory. “You finally joined the Rebellion.” Kanan’s brow wrinkled.

“What do you mean by finally?” he asked, already feeling himself becoming defensive. Rhia rolled her eyes.

“Nothing,” she said, slicing into her pepper, grinning.

“And no, I did not join anything,” Kanan said, putting extra emphasis on “I” and jabbing his thumb to his chest. She looked back up at him as she scraped ingredients from her cutting board to the pan. 

“That was Hera Syndulla, wasn’t it? Captain of the Ghost? You’re part of Ghost crew, right?” she pressed, confused. Kanan was more than a little surprised.

“You’ve heard of us?” Kanan asked, his vanity getting the better of him and nearly allowing a smile to creep onto his face. Rhia rolled her eyes again and laughed.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Kanan. I’ve heard of Captain Syndulla, not her first mate,” she joked, laughing more at the fall of Kanan’s expression. Then realization struck her. “Wait, are you the one we just blew up a star destroyer for?” Kanan grimaced.

“Yes, but that wasn’t my fault. I didn’t tell them to- and it was Chopper who-” Rhia held her hand up, seeing him getting defensive.

“Kanan, I don’t really know anything about what happened. I wasn’t here for it, I just heard about it. I was on a freighter headed to a rendezvous. I don’t even know who Chopper is,” she said, going back to her pan.

“He’s our droid,” Kanan said flatly. “Anyway, my crew performed the rescue. I was aboard Tarkin’s destroyer.” Rhia looked up at him again, this time a little more serious.

“What was that like?” she asked.

“Not fun.”

Rhia didn’t push the topic further. She grabbed a pan of noodles that had been sitting over to her right and mixed them into the skillet with some oil. Kanan was suddenly fascinated by the chipped edge of the table in front of him. 

Satisfied with the meal in front of her, Rhia reached into a cabinet behind her and pulled out two plates and then matched them with two forks. She set them out on the table Kanan was sitting at and then divided the noodles in half. Before she sat down, however, she went back to the cabinet and grabbed two glasses. When she set them down the table Kanan looked up at her, arching his eyebrow. She went to a backpack that sat on the floor behind the counter and pulled out a glass bottle with no markings and a familiar light brown liquid sloshing inside. She poured herself a drink, placed the mouth of the bottle over his glass and paused, looking at him, silently offering the drink. 

“I can’t think of what goes better with your dinners,” he said, and she poured. 

As soon as Kanan took a bite, his memories were triggered all over again. He was pretty sure he’d never even eaten this specific dish before, given her access to such a wide variety of ingredients. But it didn’t matter. Rhia’s meals were memorable for some sort of shared quality that bound them all together, even when they were drastically different. Not only that, but he realized how long it had been since he’d eaten, and how much longer it had been since he’d eaten something of this quality. For a few minutes they ate in silence, Kanan unavailable for any and all conversation. Eventually, Rhia spoke.

“So explain to me how you haven’t joined the Rebellion?” Kanan sighed, but the food had made him quite amenable to discussing just about anything. He did, however, take a drink before he replied.

“I didn’t know we were a cell. I didn’t know there were cells. Hera was the only one who spoke to Fulcrum and knew of the larger operation. I found out when I was… rescued,” Kanan ended quietly. Rhia could tell that being rescued and needing so much from so many, made him uncomfortable. 

“That had to be quite a shock,” she said, sensing the need for a new subject. “So you and Hera, when did you two meet?” she asked. Kanan looked at her, surprised. He could tell by the way she asked, she knew that they were together. Rhia gave him a “give me a break” look.

“Kanan, really- my ‘pilot’? Shit, I’ve seen explosions that were more subtle.” She chuckled and took another drink, emptying the glass. Kanan did the same. Rhia offered up the bottle again.

“Another?”

Kanan looked at it, hesitating. He hardly drank at all anymore, let alone like he did when they were living on Gorse. However, depending on where this conversation was going to go, Kanan felt like he would need something more than blood in his veins. 

“One more.”

[bgn846]

The Niflheim Experiment Chapter 3

Did you know that I missed you? I don’t think we can keep this a secret anymore.  I want to be with you and I want everyone to know about it.  

 Ignis hummed in response and smiled sweetly.  His boyfriend continued to run his fingers through Gladio’s hair.  It felt so good.  

“Babe, don’t ever stop.” Gladio sighed contentedly.  A quick gasp from someone else nearby made Gladio snap his head up.  Blinking around stupidly he realized he wasn’t at home.  Ignis hadn’t been there at all, Gladio had been dreaming.  Groaning he laid his head back down and took a deep breath.

A full five seconds later he cried out in a panic, “What the hell happened?”

Aranea soon appeared in his field of vision and smiled.  “Uh – I was giving you a scalp massage and you freaked out.”

“You called her babe!” Luna chimed in excitedly.  She was sitting to his left and had also leaned in closer to look at him.

Soft blades of grass tickled his fingers as he took in his surroundings.  He was yet again lying down somewhere.  One thing of note, was his pillow, it was warm and kept moving.  Tilting his head to the side revealed it was Aranea’s lap his head was settled on.  “How did I get here?” He asked trying very hard not to blush.  He’d endured enough cringe worthy moments in the past twenty four hours to last him a lifetime.

“You don’t remember?” Aranea asked with concern.

“Uh – sorta.” Gladio took a moment to reflect and was rewarded with some interesting memories.  “I went nuts didn’t I?”

“Yep, you woke up suddenly and started shouting about needing to stretch.  Loqi had to pull over when you kept trying to open the car door.” Aranea offered.

“Then when the car stopped you threw yourself out and collapsed on the side of the road.”  Luna finished.

Gladio wished the eos would swallow him whole, he was doing all these super embarrassing things and it was terrible.  “Astrals, why me?” He whined in distain.

“We all needed a rest, don’t sweat it.  Besides it gave us a break from the wonder twins.” Aranea huffed.

Luna waved her hands to get his attention. “You called her babe,” she repeated again.   “Did you two get up to something before I joined the party?”

Nearly choking at the idea Gladio worked to explain his comment.   Aranea beat him to it. “He was most likely dreaming about his boyfriend.” With that simple statement she went right back to scratching his head.

Luna went white as a sheet at the comment.  Great, now Gladio had to deal with this on top of everything else.  He didn’t take Luna for the type to get put off by him having a boyfriend and not a girlfriend.   Gladio’s mind was reeling; he didn’t know what to say that might make things better.

“Who?” She finally asked still visibly shocked by the idea.

“Uh – well.” Gladio didn’t really want to say for fear of the repercussions.  If she wasn’t happy with him dating a guy, then he didn’t want her casting Ignis in the same bad light.

“It’s not Noct is it?” Luna whispered with wide eyes.

Okay, that question made sense, he could at least clear Noct’s name.  “No! Not the prince,” he sputtered.

Luna sighed with what seemed like relief, and promptly collapsed on his stomach.  “You scared me Gladio, I thought maybe Noct hadn’t told me because he was scared or --.” She never finished the thought. “For the record, even if it was Noct I would still be happy for you.”

“You were scared!”  Gladio yelped, “I thought you were going to hit me with a stick or something.”

Laughing brightly Luna pinched him in the side.  “I’m not like that!”

“Hey, so where are the others?” Gladio asked once his heart rate had returned to something closer to normal.

“They went to go get food and gas.  There’s a little outpost a couple miles from here.”

“Where are we sleeping tonight?”

“Nowhere.” Aranea answered with a blank look.  “We’re driving straight through to Insomnia.”

“Really?” Gladio asked hopeful.

“Sure, so long as the shitbox Ravus bought lasts.” Aranea huffed, “Sorry Luna, but your brother can be a total dick sometimes.”

“I’m aware of that,” she answered softly, “he means well.”

“I can’t imagine what it’s been like for you both since the empire attacked.”  Gladio offered.  “I’ve been away from my family and friends for a week tops and I’m a total wreck.”

“We’ve adapted.  I think Ravus still has some things to work through, but I’m hoping this trip will force the issue, as it were.”

“Speak of the devil, I see the car.” Aranea chimed in.  “Hopefully they brought back some good food, I’m starving.”

Lifting his head again Gladio could see a trail of dust coming closer.  The car seemed to be traveling pretty fast which was odd.  Soon it got close enough for Gladio to hear the tires on the side of the road.  From his position he really couldn’t see much.  The sound of one car door slamming was also unexpected.  Aranea had indicated that both Loqi and Ravus had gone out in search of supplies.

“Is something wrong?” Gladio asked quickly still unable to get a good visual.

Luna had stood up and was making a face.  “Where’s Loqi?”

“I kicked him out.” Ravus huffed as he walked over and dropped two bags of food at their feet.

Aranea spoke up before Luna had a chance. “Excuse me? What did you do?”

“He was behaving like a ruffian so I kicked him out of the car.”

“We need to go back and get him!” Luna shouted.  “What if he gets mad and tells the empire where we are!”

“Nonsense, he won’t do that.” Ravus said with an air of authority.   “He was screaming about punching me in the face.  I believe he wishes to do that before he makes other plans.”

Luna looked like she was about to punch Ravus herself.  She was pissed. “Ravus, if this causes trouble for us I’ll stop talking to you.”

“Luna, we’re two miles from the outpost.  It won’t take him that long to walk here.”

Needless to say the next thirty minutes passed far too slowly.  The mood was tense as they all waited for any sign of Loqi.  Finally, right after Aranea announced that she was going back to get him, he showed up.  He seemed composed but it was clear he was angry.

Gladio thought for sure he would try and pick another fight with Ravus.  Instead Loqi completely ignored him and strode over to sit next to Luna.  He was slightly sweaty from walking in the afternoon sun.   Nudging the bag near his feet Gladio stared at Luna.  She picked up on his hint and retrieved a bottle of water from it, promptly handing it over to Loqi.  The kid took it with a small nod and proceeded to guzzle most of the contents.

For the next hour Gladio was treated to a show of sorts. The food was doled out and Loqi focused all of his attention on Luna.  He was flirting, hard.  Ravus thought that leveling death glares at the blond would make a difference.  It did nothing.  Loqi continued on like he wasn’t even there.

Luna wasn’t sure how to handle the advances at first, but after ten minutes she was giggling and enjoying the attention.  Gladio had assumed, based off her reaction from earlier, that she liked Noct.   However, watching her eagerly encourage Loqi made him wonder; maybe Luna wasn’t as invested in Noct as he’d thought.  Even Aranea raised an eyebrow at the pair as they sat on the grass and laughed.

For the first time since his rescue, Gladio was able to stay upright without support.  Granted, he teetered a few times but a quick shove from Aranea righted him.  Despite the apparent difficulties Ravus and Loqi had with each other, they had managed to bring back some good food.  They spent another hour lounging and stretching out their legs.

Ravus disappeared at one point.  Gladio assumed he didn’t want to see Loqi fawning over his sister anymore.  The young shield was surprised he’d not yelled at Loqi about already.  If Iris was getting hit on by someone Gladio would definitely be trying to put a stop to it.

As he sat and pondered, Gladio began to wonder how much time brother and sister actually got to spend together. Ravus was the high commander or something in the empire’s army.  Or at least he was up until a few days ago, before he helped him escape.  Dwelling on the truth Gladio sighed heavily, he hadn’t been helped.  He’d simply been part of their plan.  He wasn’t complaining, but it still felt weird to not be in control.

Luna instantly picked up on his mood swing, even though she was still neck deep in Loqi’s smothering attention efforts.  “Gladio are you alright?  What’s the matter?” She asked quickly.

Raising his hands to indicate nothing Gladio remained silent.  He didn’t trust his emotional state at the moment.  Crying again wasn’t entirely off the table if he tried to explain himself.

Pouting, the princess took a breath out through her nose.  “I know something is wrong.”

“I don’t want to talk about it right now.” Gladio tried.

Opening her mouth to speak again, Luna was cut off by Aranea.  “Honey, let him be.”

“I don’t understand why you men can be so stubborn!” Luna blurted.   “I’m so sick of having to deal with everyone bottling their feelings up.”  She balled her fists up and stared intently at him, as if to make him talk by sheer will power alone.

“I’m sorry Luna, I’m – I’m not – I don’t --.” Gladio didn’t know how to explain himself, but he certainly felt like he was under attack, and not from someone he expected.

“Hey! Leave him alone!” Aranea vehemently interjected.  “You don’t know what he went through before we picked you up.  The poor kid was chained to a floor and Versteals scientists were experimenting with different daemon strains to turn him!”

Luna’ eyes went wide.  “I know what they did to him!  I healed him remember?!”

“Don’t.” Aranea warned.  “You didn’t see him like we did.  It’s not fair to Gladio to brush that experience off.”

“I’m not doing that!” The princess yelled.  “I’m only saying he should talk about his feelings, it will help.”

Gladio felt bad seeing the two women get angry over his lack of action.  “Please stop fighting,” he tried, “I’m sorry, I’ll try to be --.”

“NO!” Aranea fumed. “You will not apologize.  You’ve done nothing wrong.” She added with her finger menacingly pointed at his chest.  “Be angry if you want or don’t say a word. That’s your choice and your right.”  

Gladio did agree with Aranea, but he couldn’t help it if he wanted to avoid conflict.  Their group was small and clearly there were unspoken tensions still lurking under the surface. Choosing to follow her advice he stayed quiet this time and waited.

Luna tried once more to defend her actions. “I didn’t mean anything bad.” She offered quietly.

That comment seemed to set Aranea off even more.  “What the hell did you mean by it then?  Yelling at someone to speak their mind when they’ve clearly told you they aren’t comfortable? You seriously expect me to believe that you didn’t mean anything bad by that?”  She was pissed now and had raised herself up on her knees to be higher than Luna.

“I didn’t yell at him!”

“Could’ve fooled me.”  Aranea spit out. “Six! You’re more like your brother than you realize.”

Aranea’s statement hit too close to home as Luna immediately went into the silent treatment mode.  Gladio had seen that a million times with his own sister.  Swallowing hard he worked to tramp down his emotions at the memory.  They were going to Lucis, he had to be patient.

“Wanna know what I’m sick of -- this bullshit.” Aranea growled.   “Let’s head out, we’re wasting time.  Loqi quit making Ravus jealous and help Gladio back to the car.”

Gladio whipped his head around to look at the blond so fast his neck cracked.  Instead of defiant fury he was met with a smirk.  The kid didn’t have long to enjoy his moment.  Luna’s hand smacked his face a second later.  Hard.   Yelling in frustration the princess stood and stormed off in the direction of the car.    

“Um – they won’t leave without us will they?” Gladio worried.

“Fuck them.” Aranea hissed.  “I’ll get you home one way or another.  Don’t stress about it.”

Groaning softly Gladio tried to stand up on his own.  Thankfully Loqi was there to catch him when his knees buckled.  “You’re getting stronger.  I can tell.” Loqi offered while supporting his body.

“Not fast enough.” Gladio lamented.

“Like Aranea said, don’t stress it.”

“Easy for you to say.” Gladio grumbled. Loqi snorted in response as they hobbled along.  “So you like Ravus?” Gladio asked unable to squash his curiosity.”

“I like a lot of people Gladio.”

“So that whole show you did with Luna?”

“That was no show, she’s cute, I had fun.  I’m gonna have a hard time rebounding after what Aranea said, but I have faith in my abilities.   Luna will forgive me.”

“Cocky little shit.” Gladio murmured under his breath.  He could feel Loqi shake with a burst of laughter.  Clearly the kid enjoying being this way, he took pleasure in getting under peoples skin.  “Don’t mess with me.” He added with conviction.  “I can’t handle it right now.”

“You’re recovering, that’s cruel.  I’d wait until you were better.”

Gladio knew that if he had Ignis by his side, his boyfriend would easily be able to deflect anything Loqi threw at them.  Ignis was good like that.  He had a sharp wit and a sharp tongue.  “Thanks.” Gladio offered as they approached the car.  Which hadn’t left without them, thank the gods.

Loqi simply nodded and worked to situate him comfortably in the car. This time Gladio was sitting behind the passenger seat.  Ravus was already installed in the driver’s seat.  Luna was sitting next to him and staring out the windshield blankly.  Gladio couldn’t tell if she’d come to him for assistance or had merely stalked over and said nothing. He wouldn’t put it past Ravus to disagree with her tactics.   Considering her outburst it seemed as though Ravus’ lack of communication was a sore subject.

Aranea roughly sat down in the middle seat and reached forward to hit Ravus in the shoulder.  “Do you need directions?”

The man simply shook his head and waited for Loqi to get the back door closed before he started the car and drove off.  A pattern of sorts developed as they continued with their journey.  Ravus made it a point to stop every two to three hours for breaks.   It was at one of these pit stops that Gladio noticed the sun beginning to dip low in the sky.

“Are we stopping for the night?” He asked.

“No.” Came Ravus’ clipped response.

Gladio didn’t think it was worth digging into the subject more.  They had to know driving at night was dangerous, right?  They must have been aware of something because Aranea made Luna switch seats with her when they got back on the road.

Luna had made a stink at first but Aranea shut her up just as quick. “If we see daemons I need to get out and fight fast. Gladio and you will be safer in the backseat together.”

Pretending to already be asleep he ignored Luna as she clambered into the back seat.  He didn’t want to talk about anything with anyone right now.  It didn’t take long and they had to stop.  Unable to prevent the nearly suffocating, anxious feeling in his chest Gladio focused on breathing instead.  He couldn't help this time and that really bothered Gladio.  True to her word Aranea hopped out the car and easily dispatched the thing blocking the road.  Loqi paid close attention but stayed put.

Once Aranea returned Loqi quipped that he had the next one.  Gladio soon realized that whatever was blocking their path dictated who got out of the car.  He knew it was going to be a hard fight when Aranea, Loqi, and Ravus had to go tackle it.

During one of these harder battles Luna leaned over to him and rested her head on his shoulder.  “I’m sorry Gladio.  I didn’t mean to make you feel bad earlier.”

Relief flooded over him.  Gladio didn’t want Luna to be mad and this admission helped calm his nerves.  “It’s okay, I’m guessing that you have similar issues with your brother?”

“Yeah,” she sighed, “He holds so much inside and it’s not healthy.”

Deciding that admitting to the truth might not be so scary Gladio took a deep breath.  “Honestly Luna,  I was worried I was gonna cry if I talked about how I felt earlier.”

The princess pulled away and leaned up to look directly into his eyes.  “Oh – Gladio I’m so sorry, I should’ve been more sensitive.” She paused and then scrunched up her face.  “Is that why Aranea was getting snippy with me, she knew didn’t she.”

“I guess, she seems to understand more than we give her credit for.” Gladio answered solemnly.

“Loqi’s still a dick.” Luna added with a huff as she resumed her position on his shoulder.

“He does like you, so be prepared for round two.”

“Hmmm – maybe.” Luna grumbled.  “Are they done yet?  I can’t look otherwise I get overwhelmed with worry.”

Peering out into the dim stream of light provided by the headlamps, Gladio could see the trio walking back.  They were a formidable team.   However, by the time they’d finished their night drive the three fighters were practically covered in dirt and daemon goo.    

“We have to stop somewhere so I can get cleaned up.” Loqi whined as the sun started coming up.

“That’s what you get for going all crazy in the last fight dumbass.” Aranea added dryly.

“So worth it.”

“Neanderthal.” Was Ravus tired reply. Loqi only smiled wider and turned to Gladio to waggle his eyebrows.    

Gladio shook his head and hugged Luna closer.  She’d fallen asleep after the last fight and was resting comfortable against his side.   Their trip had been nothing like he’d expected and Gladio hoped things would continue to work themselves out.  He didn’t like it when they all fought.

Ravus turned slightly in his seat to stretch and caught sight of his sister in Gladio’s embrace.  “I appreciate your efforts to make my sister comfortable Gladio but it’s not necessary,” he sighed.

“I’m already in a relationship, with another dude, there’s nothing to stress over,” Gladio mused softly.    

Unable to see his expression Gladio assumed what he’d said had done the trick when Ravus merely uttered a surprised ‘oh’.  Loqi reached over the seat to give him a fist bump and continued to try and pick off dried bits of dirt from his clothes.  Wondering why Aranea hadn’t chimed in Gladio tried to check on her.  She was fast asleep with her head smashed into the side window.

Ravus soon pointed to a sign for an outpost nearby and began heading that way.  Gladio assumed they’d have to endure one more night of driving after this before they reached the outer limits of Lucis.  They were inching closer to home and Gladio could hardly wait.

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[swordsandparasols]

Gwanghae:  History vs The Crowned Clown

TVN’s much anticipated sageuk, The Crowned Clown has aired and…my feelings are somewhat mixed.  It’s good-certainly better than 100 Days Husband, and faster paced than the first episodes of Mr. Sunshine-but there are choices I question.  In particular, it’s taking the popular path of using violence against women to show abuses of power.  At this point it isn’t gratuitous, but if the show makes it a trend and makes it the main way to show the differences between the strong and weak in society and the palace, it could be a dealbreaker.  We’ll see how the next couple weeks go.

 The main point of this post, though, is the complicated and interesting history behind Gwanghae. The Crowned Clown is loosely based of Masquerade, a Prince & Pauper type story about Joseon’s fifteenth king, Gwanghae, who is quite the controversial figure, to the point where he’s one of only two of Joseon’s kings who was not given a posthumous title, instead sill being known by his princely title of Gwanhaegun.  (The other is Yeonsanggun, who is less controversial and more sraight up reviled.) I have not seen Masquerade (I intended to before the series started, but it didn’t happen) but The Crowned Clown is a “serial numbers filed off” version of history.  It sticks closer to history than, say, Grand Prince, or even some sageuks that don’t bother filing off the serial numbers.  The biggest divergences (outside of the core premise of the king having a performer who looks just like him temporarily take his place in the palace) are that principle figures are deaged considerably, and the size of the royal family being scaled down.  Unfortunately, this means some of the most interesting bits no longer apply.

 Gwanghae was the second son of Seonjo, with both he and his older brother being born to one of Seonjo’s consorts.  Seonjo had 23 children with 6 consorts, over half of them sons.  Unfortunately, not a single one of those 23 children were with his queen.  Fast forward some and an alarming number of those sons are reaching adulthood.  (Seonjo’s brood had a fairly decent childhood survival rate at this point.)  No crown prince has been selected and Queen Uiin unfortunately couldn’t get pregnant and produce a legitimate heir to conveniently solve the problem no matter how many temples she prayed at.  Also inconvenient was the fact that Seonjo’s oldest son, Imhae, was generally considered totally incompetent, so that easy route wasn’t a very good idea either.  

 Fortunately or unfortunately (depending on whether you’re a noble or royal with the means to head for the hills, or a commoner stuck dealing with invading armies) in 1591, the Japanese decided they would just cross over through Joseon in order to attack China, resulting in a full scale invasion.  Seonjo promptly sent a “The Japanese are coming!” letter to China and went of the defense.  IT didn’t do him much good though and in 1592, he and most of the court fled to the Ming border.  Who stayed behind?  Second prince Gwanghae, who spent the next seven years as the defacto ruler of Joseon, seeing to defenses and overseeing reconstruction.  (This is hat’s going on in the sageuk parts of Live Up To Your Name, and is the basis for the movie Warriors of the Dawn, which also feature Yeo Jin Goo as Gwanghae, but more age appropriate that time.)  After the war, making Gwanghae Crown Prince was now the easy and obvious choice.  He’d already done the job for over half a decade, after all.  Sure, he wasn’t the oldest or legitimate, both of which were generally preferable, but he was the best they had.

 Then in 1600, Queen Uiin died and Seonjo married the much much much (as in, younger than some of his kids) Queen Inmok, who promptly  gave him two legitimate children in the space of 6 years.  Princess Jeongmyung, who was no threat to the established status quo, and Prince Yeongchang, who very much was.  “What’s this?”  the court asked “A LEGITIMATE heir?  And a baby who will probably still be a kid when the king croaks and therefore easier for us to influence than that stubborn and strongwilled Gwanghae?  SIRE WE MUST HAVE A DISCUSSION!!!”  Suddenly that bit where Gwanghae effectively saved the country and did a good job ruling for seven years when they all ran off with their tails between their legs didn’t seem s important anymore.

 For better or worse, Seonjo died in 1608, when Prince Yeongchang was still a baby, and before any changes could be made regarding who the crown prince was.  This did not make significant parts of the court stop conspiring to replace Gwanghae with Yeongchang, and eventually Gwanghae was forced to send Yeongchang into exile, where he died the next year at 12 years old.  That Gwanghae either had him poisoned or one of his supporters took it upon themselves to have him poisoned on Gwanghae’s behalf  Is the generally accepted but, strictly speaking, not proven cause.  Somewhere around this time, Queen Inmok and Princess Jeongmyung are sent into exile.  As a side note, Jeongmyung was believed dead for a while, prompting the basis for the series Hwajung, which, to my knowledge, is the only show dealing with the period that acknowledges that she existed, though others have been happy to have Yeongchang secretly survive until adulthood.  The Dowager Queen and princess were also imprisoned and lived in near-poverty.  This part most likely was something forced by dominant court factions that Gwanghae couldn’t prevent, but that didn’t mean he didn’t get the blame.  Given that they believed him to be responsible for the little prince’s death, I’m sure they were also pretty happy to blame him for the situation.

 Despite the bad handling of some family things, Gwanghae ended up a pretty good king, though not popular.  He was a good politician, literary arts thrived under his rule (as long as you didn’t write Hong Gil Dong, that one went badly), he rebuilt multiple palaces that had been destroyed during the wars and redistributed lands to the common people.  He reintroduced identification cards, attempted to bring smaller political factions to the fore instead of the court being and endless battle between two dogs fighting over a bone with no other opinions getting a say, and attempted to implement systems to make taxation easier on citizens, but was unable to widely implement it, only successfully doing so in one province.  It did eventually spread to the rest of Joseon, but not until decades after he died.  Realizing that Korea could not realistically stand on the same ground as some other countries in terms of military might, he sought to strengthen foreign relations, with the Ming Empire, Japan, and the Manchus.

 During all this, though, well, he just wasn’t popular.  SOMETIMES PEOPLE JUST DON’T LIKE YOU! (And think you had the wrong mom.)  Plots were constant, causing paranoia to run high. (Given that he was later overthrown by his nephew-the much weaker King Injo-he was right to be paranoid.)  All this leads up to Masquerade, in which the appropriately aged Gwanghae seeks a double to help him avoid being assassinated.

 In The Crowned Clown, most, if not all, of this background is gone.  Gwanghae became king at 33 years old.  Yeo Jin goo is a decade younger and is playing a character the same age.  (Jang Hyuk’s Seonjo is also a good 20 or so years younger.)  Gone are the military accomplishments.  Also gone are all his siblings except for Yeongchang.  In addition, Queen Inmok is significantly older, not younger.  Yi Hun’s (this version of Gwanghae) paranoia starts almost immediately after he becomes king, including many violent outbursts.  With Yi Hun being so much younger and without the other siblings, but still illegitimate, the drama of his being crown prince while others prefer Yeongchang due to legitimacy is much more rote.  This isn’t to say it’s badly done or boring or without it’s own drama or problems because it isn’t, it’s just way less interesting and not nearly as charged as the actual history was.

 Given that this is a TV series that skews younger (and more female for the audience) than the movie, and that filing the serial numbers off  gives them more freedom with the ending, I’m guessing that we’ll eventually learn that Yi Hun’s paranoia and outbursts were at least partly due to being poisoned, and the series will end with him  becoming a better king, and the titular clown, Ha Seon, returning to his nomadic life, but with more awareness of how to fight injustice.  That or they’ll kill Yi Hun and Ha Seon will become king with only a few people any the wiser.  (It also wouldn’t surprise me if they revealed that Yeongchang’s death was faked.)  Given that Yeo Jin Goo is a much beloved former child actor-in part because of his many child and teen years spent playing the younger versions of leads in sageuks-who only very recently transitioned into adult roles, I don’t really expect a too-brutal ending.

 Incidentally, any time I’m reminded that Yeo Jin Goo is all grown up now, my reaction is along these lines:

 “He is what? No he isn��t he’s only 15.  YOUNG MAN WHY ARE YOU DOING PHOTOSHOOTS LIKE THIS BUTTON YOUR SHIRT RIGHT NOW!”

 This despite the fact that he’s always looked a bit older than his age due to having fairly broad and strong features.

[elssiie]

Walk through the fire

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4

You can also find the story in fanfiction.net 

Strategist and priestess Lucy Heartfilia gets caught up in the turmoil of war. Torn between duty and love she must decide whether to follow her heart or mind because the destiny of two nations rests on her shoulders.

Chapter 5: Instinct 

There is no instinct like that of the heart

  Natsu was moving through the trees as fast as the forest let him. His men were far behind him but right now he couldn’t afford to wait for them. Fucking hell! That little witch had been giving him a massive headache for a while now. He seriously hadn’t needed Romeo to magically show up in the middle of the battle camp and put himself in danger like that. What was even going through the kid’s brain? Hey, I see a suspicious person walking into one of the most dangerous places in the empire. I’ll mention this to the nearest soldier and then indulge myself in an epic adventure following said suspicious person in the woods. Brilliant, Romeo. Just fucking brilliant.

Natsu stopped for a moment to sniff the air. The witch’s scent was anything but witch-like. Soft and clean, the smell of spring. It was too vivid, too strong. She and Romeo were close. He sprinted following their trails. There. Just behind those bushes. He could distinguish their voices now with his ultra-hearing. They sounded frightened. Then he felt the presence of other creatures. Shit! He quickly moved through the bushes and found them.

Just in time to see the deadly spear flying in the air straight towards Romeo. For one terrifying second Natsu froze, unable to say or do something. His eyes widened as he watched the strategist’s body blocking the spear’s path. A horrible, blood-chilling scream tore from her mouth as she crashed on the ground. He registered in the distance of his mind that the forest people were turning their attention to him, ready to take him down as well. He didn’t care. His vision was pure red. The usually calm and quiet fire in his chest was now blazing furiously. Red markings covered both his arms, neck and cheeks. His skin glowered in a faint gold color and he knew what his eyes looked like, what kind of effect they had on the enemies. The forest people screeched in despair, trying to quickly get away from him. He wouldn’t let them. The white hot fire covered his hands. Burn, motherfuckers.

The first thing Lucy noticed when she woke was that it was nice and warm. She strained her muscles in order to move but every single nerve in her back screamed in pain. Holy gods! What in the world was this pain?! She had been laying on her stomach probably for hours if she had to judge from the missing sensitivity in her arms and legs. She realized with horror that she was back in the tower. She was a prisoner again. Then she remembered the forest people and the hit she took. Ah. That’s why her shoulder hurt so much.

She had to get up. Lucy clenched her teeth and slowly, so very slowly pushed her body up. Gods, someone was tearing her skin apart! Piece by piece! Her arms trembled, too weak to do this kind of physical activity. She groaned as the pain became unbearable.

“No. no. Stop.” Big, warm palms dropped on her lower back and gently pushed her to the bed. “Stop.”

“I want to get up.” Her voice was rusty. It sounded too exhausted like she’d been screaming for a long time. Maybe she had but she couldn’t remember a single thing since she got unconscious in the forest.

“You need to lay down.” The male voice was coming somewhere above her head. The palm moved slightly up her spine, leaving behind a nice hot feeling.

“Please.” Lucy whispered. She didn’t really have the energy to explain how awful her limbs were feeling or how she wanted to at least see what was happening around her and not have her head on one side, leaving her defenseless.

For a moment he didn’t say anything so she thought he was ignoring her request but then strong arms wrapped around her stomach, his head briefly touched hers and he softly breathed out in her ear, “This is gonna hurt.”

She nodded.

He carefully started lifting her body while she desperately tried not to cry out. He helped her turn herself over and after another five agonizing minutes Lucy was finally sitting in her bed. She was panting, her eyes full of tears and her shoulder burning in agony but she was at least seeing the room.

She couldn’t believe it.

It was Dragneel who helped her. There was something different in his stare. A newfound spark she hadn’t seen before.

“What happened?” she asked.

“The forest people hit your shoulder with a wooden spear. You’re lucky they didn’t manage to hit your lungs or you’d be dead by now.”

“The boy… Romeo, is he okay?” The fear was evident in her voice.

He was contemplating her, sizing her up with his stare. “He’s fine. Just shaken up.”

Lucy exhaled shakily and closed her eyes.

“Pretty good idea, by the way.”

Her nose wrinkled. “What do you mean?”

“Saving a kid from my camp in hopes of getting away from torture.”

“What?” She asked flatly. Surely he wasn’t implying that…

He shrugged.

“I’m just saying it’s a good strategy. You knew I was going to find you so you decided to put the boy in harm, then getting injured while saving him. We both know I can’t afford to torture you right now cause there’s I high chance you’ll die in the process. It was reckless but in the end a pretty good idea that actually worked.”

She gaped. Was this guy for real? Oh, gods, he was. He was for real! Her anger bottled up in her throat. She wanted to smash his thick pink head with a table so hard!

“Wow. Are you that amazed that I figured you out?”

He laughed but there was a certain stillness to it. His whole body was tense. His eyes didn’t sparkle with their usual humor.

“How could you be so… aggh!” The sharp pain from her wound stopped her from punching him in the face.

“Hey, be careful.”

His hands flew towards her, probably to help her, but she was so done with him. Lucy smacked his palms and he blinked caught in surprise. Good. Let him be surprised.

“I had no idea where that bloody spear would hit me! I could have died on the spot! Yes, I would have done almost anything to get away from here, I did not want to betray my country but I would never -”, she was panting now. Her shoulder was killing her and she was pretty sure her wound opened up but she was so angry. “I would never bet the life of an innocent person just to save my own! For you to think I would do that to a little kid is beyond me! Making up that kind of twisted story truly tells terrible things but not about me. It’s about you! Don’t you dare say such bullshit like that to my face again!”

And she was even swearing now. She hadn’t done that in years. He really pissed her off.

Warm streaks of blood fell down her back. Suddenly her head felt too heavy and dizzy. Dragneel, who’d been in total shock until now, quickly shook off his mixed feelings and called for the doctor. Seconds later a middle aged man came in, saw her condition and heavily scolded the General. While the doctor started changing the bandage he asked why the wound opened up again. For the first time since Lucy knew him Natsu Dragneel kept his mouth shut and didn’t fire with a smartass comment. Well, then she’ll answer it.

“He was being a jerk.”

From the corner of her eye she saw Natsu’s body cringe. Dull, unpleasant pain hit her head and she groaned. Her forehead and neck were sweaty. She couldn’t even keep her eyelids open any longer. She was just so, so tired. Everything hurt.

“What’s wrong with her?”

Did she imagine it or Dragneel sounded genuinely concerned?  

Ah, never mind. She just wanted to sleep.

“A fever, I believe.” The doctor almost growled. “Her body is weakened not only because of the blood loss but also because of the intense pain she feels. Opening up her wound isn’t helping her either, General! I will give her some strong herbs but they will keep her dizzy. General, with all due respect, I will ask you to leave the girl alone for some time, at least until she recovers from the fever.”

Natsu nodded. He couldn’t tear his gaze from her tormented expression. He thought about her stubbornness and wills to fight, how brave and strong she’d been. Now she was laying completely powerless and shaken up by the pain. Something sickening curled up in his chest. It was awful, this feeling, whatever it was. His eyes traced the sensual shape of her eyebrows down to her feverish cheeks and stopped at the sight of her slightly opened lips, out of which painful sounds were coming. Her shoulder and half her back were completely exposed to him, revealing soft milky skin, delicate curves. She was so small, so fragile. Why the hell would he think about torturing this creature which was about to break any moment?

“General! You are only making my job harder! Please, leave immediately!”

The shout broke the strange trance Natsu had fallen into. He sharply turned and flew out of the room before he did something. Before he did what exactly?! Godsdammit, he was such a mess. That woman was truly a witch. What had she done to him?

“Why are you frowning at the air?”

Natsu almost jumped. Almost. Gajeel always showed up at the best of moments. He hadn’t heard him approach which was kind of strange. But this whole day was just fucking over the scale of strangeness.

“How is the strategist?” He just had to ask about her, didn’t he.

“She is…” Natsu clenched his fists, then deeply exhaled. Hot gray smoke came out of his nostrils and that glowing, heavy feeling in his chest started fading. His rhythm slowed down until only the familiar quiet but tense fire in his heart was left.

“That thing with the smoke is still as freaky as I remember it.”

Gajeel was giving him one of his worried stares again. He knew something was off. But Natsu would never admit to anyone how thrown off he felt. Instead he asked, “Where’s Romeo?”

“With Sting and Rogue. You know, that whole lecture you gave really upset him.”

“Yeah, well, he deserved it. That brat isn’t going to pull a stunt like this again in the near future. I almost had a heart attack because of him.”

“Natsu Dragneel and his lectures on responsibility. I’d never even thought you had that word in your limited vocabulary.”

“Very funny. I’m dying from laughter here.”

Gajeel was waiting for Natsu to spill the beans. But Natsu had a dignity to keep. He just passed by him and said in a nonchalant voice, “The strategist has a fever so I left her with my personal doctor to look after her. We’ll have to wait for her to get better.”

Yeah, Gajeel was seeing right through his bullshit but thank the gods, he wasn’t feeling asshol-ish enough to mention it. Natsu would take what he could get. He needed some time, to cool his head and heart down. So he forced himself to smirk lazily at his cousin and walked away.

[horsepriest]

I did this meme for Adelie on a whim and to link to her Refsheet page. There is hints towards spoilers for "The Moonlit Path" but none for "A Glimpse Beyond the Illusion."

There is some content warning of general malice and mentions of murder.

Elite Adelie

Basic stats:

Name: Elite Adelie

Gender/Pronouns: Agender she/her

Height: 8 ft with crown

Species: Other-Merged Hirudian Elite

Domain: The Firmament

Sexuality: Undefined

Romance: Undefined

Birthday: Dec. 12

Age: 260

Occupation: She is the Hirudian Elite that oversees all efforts outside of the sphere of Hirud and Light's Landing. Her wing of the military goes off-world to other planets to reap their resources. Her civilian forces mine the asteroid belts and guard them heavily. With her lab nestled in space rock, she is close enough to oversee the extraction processes. However, there is a large facility of hangars on Hirud that is incorporated into her domain. She occupies her time mostly with her experiments with the Other, sapient alien species, and her Liberated.

Weapons: Like all other Elites: innate control of the parasite in nearly every form. This includes her own, the metal plates that form the shell of her body can be molded into weapons she can control tele-empathically. She can, and does, use the Liberated parasite to force Liberated to fight for her- even if they don't want to.

Personality: Aloof, haughty, fickle. Adelie is the highest rank within the Great Hirudian Empire and she knows it. All other beings are below her, beasts or ooze. Adelie likes total control and will do whatever is needed to gain it (even ally with another Elite). Even her experiments are Liberated. She "loves" her experiments, like a person does with pets. This includes her Warlord Gresham. She has raised him from a kit. She indulged his worst impulses and encouraged him to follow through with them. She rewards him for his malice- in a way, she finds it cute.

OC Question Meme

1. How easy is it to make them angry? Do they show their anger or hide it? Extremely easy. Adelie likes everything to be exact to her mysterious specifications and she becomes irritated by anything that does not meet those specifications. Due to the immobility of her face and lack of vocal voice, it is difficult to see or hear her emotions, but it is easy to feel them due to her tele-empathy. She may kill you or take over your Liberation to do her bidding regardless. (In the case of Gresham, she loans him out to other Elites as she knows that is what hurts him most).

2. Do they believe in soulmates? Maybe she did, before becoming an Elite and essentially immortal. Her understanding of companionship has been twisted by her access to extreme power and merging with the Parasite. It has made her manipulative and view others as pawns, beasts, or ooze. Other influence has further twisted her view of the world causing her to lose touch with feelings. The closest thing she feels to “love” is akin to a human’s love for pets, including all the horrible aspects that crops up (breeding for specific traits for aesthetics/the hell of it to the detriment of the being’s health). Gresham is the perfect example of this.

3. Do they have any pet peeves? Disobedience. Disorderliness. Chaos. Anything that is outside of her expectations. While she is familiar with the drawbacks of many of her monsters (such as drool or blood in unsightly places), she prefers sterility. For Gresham, she just holds his jaw shut in her presence. Most others are stored in appropriately sized glass terrariums or aquariums for observation.

4. Do they have a happy place? Somewhere to go to in their heads when they need to relax? Adelie probably does not feel happiness in the same way a mortal could. Such a long life and access to such power and information leaves Elites numb to most emotions. She passively watches her newest experiments when she needs a distraction. She does this by passively accessing the Hirudian collective conscious to access the Parasite’s hivemind (not HiveMind) to watch through janitorial swarms.

5. At what stage of their life were they the happiest? Probably right before Ascension. The process requires being entirely in tune with one’s parasite and exerting one’s will beyond the parasite’s needs. It requires a lot of stubbornness and ambition—typically one ascends when they are at their most powerful, confident, and sure of themselves and thus, typically at their happiest.

6. At what stage of their life were they the least happy? Probably around when she realized that she required the starlight to live initially. Prior to infection, Hirudians are your typical organic-based organism, they don’t naturally require sunlight to function. It is a common frustration when becoming speakers to learn how to be purely diurnal and not require assistance with getting home before the star sets. It is a typical time of mourning of their lives that they have “lost” in the dawning of the new life they face (like many great shifts in life). Perhaps this is what spurred Adelie to become the Star Shunner? It is much easier to protect oneself from the light, than it is to require it.

7. At a bar/tavern/pub are they more likely to buy someone a drink, or have someone buy them a drink?

Adelie is more likely to buy someone else a drink. She cannot drink anymore and lacks a mouth. As for interplanetary negotiations, an expensive drink and hospitality goes a long way. Despite Adelie’s beliefs of her superiority, she knows you catch far, far, far more flies with honey. Or champagne.

8. Have they ever broken any bones? If yes, how?

Ascension is a bloody violent process where the mechanical form tears through the flesh then crushes the organic body under its metal weight. Deep in Adelie’s core, her organic body remains, crushed and unrecognizable by every means. Yet, it is still alive. It will still live long after her “ending” as well.

9. Do they have any memories/experiences they would rather forget? Not really. She does have the ability to remove harmful memories as needed. Also, her long life has numbed her to most of her memories and feelings.

10. What is their favourite memory from their childhood? Her long life has numbed her to most of her memories and feelings.

11. Do they have a “type” they are usually attracted to? Bestial, mutated, and as changed from their natural form as possible. She tends to pick larger specimens, breeding them into a much larger form if needed (usually artificially except for Vactyr).

12. Do they have any favourite possessions? Probably Gresham. He is her show pony, a prime example of her skill in bioengineering and in raising a horribly loyal war machine. He is a monstrous titan that is wrapped around the smallest finger of her smallest hand; he is utterly under her control under his own will—Liberation is just a cherry on top.

13. Do they have any tattoos? If no, would they ever consider getting one? At her present form, she is incapable of receiving tattoos. Not that she would want one anyways.

14. Do they have any piercings? If no, would they ever consider getting one? At her present form, she is incapable of having a piercing. Not that she would want one anyways.

15. What is their dream house like? They already live in it. An isolated asteroid containing all her active experiments and a handful of personal servants to assist her.

16. What is something about them that people would not expect just by looking at them? She is a lot more reactive emotionally than she looks, and her mind is a lot more active than she seems. Adelie is focused on her experiments far away while also handling matters requiring her attention.

17. How good are they at choosing gifts for others? In terms of impressing a potential business partner, she is exceptionally good at selecting things to do and give that feel extravagant and luxurious. However, for those she “cares” about, the gifts are not quite gifts. She will only give something that will benefit her. For instance, she rewards Gresham with the opportunity to torture others to his content for being a good Warlord.

18. Do they have a certain skill that they are particularly proud of? She can survive in the dark, unlike the rest of the infected Hirudians. She can somewhat controlthe Other, as much as one can at least. Her military wing is also running tightly and without direct need of her control; much unlike the crust, which is a mess and is out of control. (Adelie and Argiope have some tension between them)

19. How would a stranger they just met describe them? Intimidating, ethereal, alien. Interacting with an Elite is much like interacting with a biblical angel. Only, they are okay with you being afraid.

20. How would a close friend they have known for a long time describe them? Stuck up, aloof, perfectionist, a bitch, etc. The other Elites do not like her, but honestly, the Elites do not like each other overall.

21. Do they have any personal insecurities? Not really. She is comfortable in the fact that her minions will not revolt and issues in the home world do not bother her much at all.

22. What is their highest physical stat? (Strength, stamina, defense, speed, etc.) and their highest non-physical stat? (Intelligence, perception, charisma, luck, etc.)? Physical: Stamina. She is a machine infused with the mysteries of the universe- there is not anything that could stop her if she really wanted something. Non-physical: intelligence.

23. How would they react to finding out someone lied to them, even if it were for their own safety/well-being? She would get the truth out of you. Lying shows too much free will and that will not do.

24. Do they prefer cold weather or warm weather? Adelie does not really mind any temperature but keeps her lab cold.

25. How easy is it for them to say, “I love you”? Easy, too easy. It is as sincere as an abusive pet parent saying I love you to their pet though.

26. How easy is it for them to tell someone about their worries? Others would be able to feel her worries around her, there would not be really any question of what is bothering her. Adelie probably talks to herself in her lab.

27. Have they ever witnessed someone die? She has killed people in unique and messed up ways. So yes.

28. Are they ticklish? No.

29. How high/low is their pain tolerance? Exceedingly high. She is a machine at this point.

30. Is there something they secretly wish they could do but are too afraid to? Probably take a vacation. Adelie is a bit of an introvert and the Hirudian collective consciousness is probably low-key torture.

31. Are they a messy eater or a neat eater? Adelie is currently incapable of eating like an organic being. Mysteries of how Elites consume resources has not been determined yet, but Adelie is probably neat with the process.

32. What moment of their life made them feel most unloved? As she is so detached from every other being, Adelie probably does not feel very loved as is. Everything around her is either working against her or is a servant of hers. Not that she cares.

33. What moment of their made them feel most loved? If she paid attention, it would be in how Gresham adores her and cares for her. But she does not care.

34. Which of the senses would they hate to lose the most: vision, hearing, smell, taste, or touch? I have good authority to say that she will probably hate it when she loses pretty much everything.

35. Are they good at small talk? Adelie does not engage in small talk; she will steer such conversations back to important matters.

36. If they could ask anyone one question and get the absolute truth, who and what would they ask? She would ask the “powers that be” if her trust in the Other will betray her someday.

37. If they had the chance, would they prefer to travel to the past or to the future? If she knew what is in her future, she would go into the past.

38. Who had the biggest impact in their life, both positive and negative?

A mix of the parasite and the Other. She became an Elite due to the parasite and became more powerful through merging with the Other.

39. Would they rather life a life always surrounded by people, or always alone? Always alone.

40. Is there anyone or anything that immediately instills fear in them? There is a moment in the story she feels terror for the first time since she became an Elite—It’s when Gresham chooses to stay with her.

[imaginesparadise-blog]

Two it’s better than one 5/?

Warnings: sex (stay safe kids) and curse words (?)

words:6.414

tagging: @georgiagrl1990 @synnersaint @miss-brightly-red

N/T: I got over excited this chapter and also tried to make up for the other shitty one.

Ivar was not present anymore in college since his brothers dragged him out before they could be seen from the authorities, of course everyone saw the shot but few saw who really shot that bullet. Vivian was on the floor and her arm sting with pain and she quickly rose to her feet and looked all over her clothes to see if she was the one who suffered the injury, Harash stood up and looked at himself and he wasn’t hurt too but Axel that was with Harash was moaning from pain on the floor holding onto his arm.

“shit!” Harash squat down to the floor and helped Axel get on his feet watching the wound while everyone was being cleared from the area by the principal and the boarder of teachers from Harvard. “it’s not that bad Axel but I will need to take the bullet out and you need to man up clear?” Harash looked into Axel eyes who widened into Vivian direction and she kneeled down caressing Axel face.

“ Trust him please, he knows what he is doing and if the bullet stays to long on your arm it can cause a big infection and it would be worse if we have to wait for the paramedics to come” Vivian took some tissues from her purse and handed to Harash who looked at the principal Harold with a serious expression.

“sir if you don’t mind I need some pure alcohol, tweezers and some bandage to put around his arm and be fast please” principal Harold nodded and order to the school staff to get it done exactly like it was asked while all the time axel was moaning with pain looking at the most recent injuries on his arm, Vivian seeing how scared he looked she sat behind him and pulled axel into her holding him carefully so he could relax and kissed the top of his head, inside she was scared and she knew that wasn’t meant to Axel but to Harash and she felt bad that she wished things turned exactly like this. While Vivian was holding axel in her arms Harash was sterilizing the tweezers with a lighter and alcohol, when he finished he looked at Axel who just nodded and Vivian hold his hand so he could squeeze when the pain was unbearable. After Harash begin to take out the bullet Vivian eyes were tearing up seeing her friend in pain, when she looked up to see if anyone was around she noticed Ivar was with his back turned to her and his brothers noticed how she was looking at him, Ivar was far from the scene but he fought his brothers since he didn’t wanted to leave without knowing Vivian was safe.

“she is looking to us Ivar, I hope you know the consequences of what you did” Ubbe reprehended his brother and Ivar turned back to look at Vivian who sighed and kissed Axel forehead after he finished his screaming and he was all good, she stood up and started to walk away from the previous local she was before, when Harash noticed he turned his head to her calling her out.

“ where are you going?! We need to go and now” Harash cleaned his hands with a towel that Quinn gave him and Vivian stopped looking at Harash over her shoulder.

“I need to just do one more thing before I leave I’ll be right back” Harash nodded and never took his eyes off of her when he saw she was walking in Ivar direction, when she came close to them Bjorn smirked at her serious expression and Ubbe nodded his head to Ivar to let him know she was standing behind him, when Ivar turned back he looked Vivian up and down and sighed relived she was hurted by his reckless behavior but he didn’t want to look weak in front of his brothers or show any emotion since all of them still had the bets going on even though Ivar was no longer involved in that stupid and child like behavior.

“can we talk?” Vivian spoke looking into Ivar never breaking her serious expression and the hurt in her eyes, Ivar fought himself against the urge to kiss her and saying how much he is happy she wasn’t hurt but his pride took it better.

“whatever you have to say you can say right here princess or you want some action away from my brothers? Because I’m down with that” Ivar smirked and his brothers chuckled rolling their eyes while Vivian just crossed her arms over her chest and smirked at his remark.

“I wanted to talk to you in private so I wouldn’t embarrassing you in front of your family but since you want that to happen I gladly will, you know when you asked me to be your girlfriend before this happened and you even confessed how I made you feel really happy and you were your truly self with me and not with your family and those so called friends? My answer is no and after this I don’t think I will ever say yes and when it comes to have some action Ivar, you can ask Axel how things were after I leave with him today, goodbye.” Vivian turned around satisfied with herself and how she was able to stand up to Ivar throwing him down of his own pedestal, Ivar face was shocked and all his brothers were surprised at the boldness of the girl actions, when Ivar saw Vivian holding hands with Axel to help him out he couldn’t deny anymore… she was in control of his emotions, he felt betrayed, hurt, stupid for acting the way he did with her and he dropped his head walking past his brothers and going to his car not wanting to deal with the mockery of his brothers, Harash noticed Ivar’s face and Vivian’s face as well when she walk to his side and he looked at her with a expression she hasn’t seen before.

“what’s wrong now? What have I done?” Vivian sighed defeated and Harash chuckled not believing in what he was seeing, she knew Vivian more than she knew herself so he knew exactly what she was feeling in that moment.

“you like him don’t you? You are conflicted about him being part of what we know because you are afraid he will hurt you again but in other way you don’t know if he is just like his family or if he was involved somehow in what happened. You were always very emotional and excited to fall in love with someone but I never expected to be with him to be honest” Harash spoke low only for the both of them to ear and Vivian eyes widened at his words and she turned her face away in a attempt to hide the blush  created by his bold words.

“Love is a strong word Harash” Vivian started to walk with Quinn and Axel by their side and Harash walked a little apart so they could continue their conversation without being heard.

“ So is the feelings you two share and I can see in both of your faces Vivian, I saw how he looked when you talked with him about whatever it was, I won’t ask because I don’t want to invade you space to much but still, you know I hate that guy and his family more than anything but maybe he can be different, your father was different when your mother meet him and married him and your grandparents thought he was just like Ragnar, a selfish son of a bitch and now look at it. The empire they are building because your father used his knowledge and showed he was more than a business man but also had a heart. I’m no good with feelings but even I felt bad with the guy’s face when he left” Harash looked at Vivian who kept her gaze straight but her vision was blurred with her tears that were so close to fall, her lower lip started to tremble and Harash just pulled her into a hug saying for their friends to leave them alone, when they said their goodbyes Vivian hugged tight against Harash and cried hard against his chest letting go everything she need to let go.

“you are not committing treason against your people just because your heart choose to love someone you had no power over to choose, the only person you are betraying is yourself Vivian. There is nothing worse than having a war inside of us, but please majesty there is no need to cry like this calm down please” Harash sighed against Vivian blonde locks and Sophia was hidden in behind the lockers hearing everything and her eyes widened when she heard how formally Harash treated Vivian.

“that girl is royalty? The things someone discovers without much effort” Sophia smiled to herself and walked away thinking of how she could use that in her advantage, maybe becoming close to Vivian so she could be more popular or bring the press to the school, who knows what was going through Sophia’s mind after the revelation.

“ I was so mean to him and he was utterly obnoxious to me Harash” Vivian stepped away from her friend and Harash reached a tissue for her to clean the blurred make up and she took it doing it so. “ he was acting so different in front of his brothers and I refuse to be the naïve girl anymore, I won’t let anyone step me over or pretend to be something they are not” Vivian took a deep breath and Harash raised his eyebrows at her.

“you are talking about someone being totally different from what they really are but aren’t you doing that too? From what I am seeing you are not that different, both with some temper to them, stubborn and proud individuals, but who am I to say more than this?” Harash chuckled and brushed a couple of loose strings of hair behind Vivian’s hair and she pouted at him confused and frustrated at his words knowing he was right.

“what are you talking about? You in one minute is beating the living out of him and wanting him dead and the next minute you are saying for me to go after him and that we both care for each other? When I pushed you to the floor did you hit your head that hard in some rock or whatever?” Vivian looked astonished at Harash and he just burst into a fit of laughter at her expressions.

“nah, I still want him dead and for everyone of his family to pay for what they did to you and your family, but at the same time I want you to be happy and if happy is him then why not? All I can do is sit and wait for him to step the line because if he does I will break every bone of his body and things are not going to be that pretty” Harash titled his head at Vivian and she pushed him rolling her eyes and picking up her purse walking to the car and opening the door entering right after Harash and both of them stood silent on the way home.

“you are an asshole sometimes you know that right?” Vivian mumbled and Harash smirked looking at the road.

“so I heard, you are a pain In the ass you know that right?” he retaliated and she smiled shaking her head,

“ I know but what would be the fun in not being like that?” Vivian looked at Harash and both of them smiled already reaching home. Once they arrived Vivian was already fresh clean from her long day and Harash was talking on the phone with Quinn couldn’t contain the smile of his face, when Vivian stopped by his doorframe she just leaned on the wood of it and giggled to herself seeing the real reason why her confident was being so romantic these days.

“do you think she is a good woman to my son your majesty?” Depitka spoke kindly standing close to Vivian and Vivian looked at her mother figure and smiled widely before kissing her forehead and grabbing her hand so they could go and start to get ready to go and eat out for a exchange.

“ I do believe so, Quinn is a girl of her worth and she handles herself with a lot of class something I don’t see often in America, to not mention the love for art they both have and how she is showing a different side of Harash I was unaware of, but only time would tell if it’s meant to be” Vivian helped Depitka doing her makeup and hairstyle at the same time she was doing her own and Depitka smiled to Vivian through the mirror.

“you are too wise for you age, you are showing more and more traits of your mother has days go by princess Vivian, she would be proud and I am equally proud like you were my own child” Vivian turned her head gazing at Vivian who smiled sadly at her mother mention and quickly composed herself. “wait I have something for you, it came this morning but I didn’t open since it has the royal symbol, I forgot about it with all the things I had to take care of at the store I’m so sorry” depikta quickly stood up and walked to the living room coffee table and grab the letter reaching it for Vivian to grab and Vivian heart stopped when she recognized the lion symbol. It was her family representation and maybe this could be her chance to get back, Vivian grabbed the letter and open it immediately reading it leaving depikta and then Harash who came into the room behind paying attention to her mother’s letter.

From Queen Anaya Mahlia

To Princess Vivian Mahlia Pierce

Dear Vivian my sweet daughter, I am so sorry for everything that happened to our family and I’m sorry you weren’t aware of how dangerous things would turn out to be, I hope you can understand that we just tried to do the best for you since you weren’t fully ready to cope with such a heavy emotional baggage like this. I can’t and won’t tell you were I am because knowing who you are I know you would come and try to be by my side but I can’t risk losing another child of mine. When I lost your brother at birth my heart broke and I thought I had no hopes for a family and heirs anymore but then you came and changed everything for us, you grew up to be stunning more than I dreamed of you would be, you grew strong and fierce and full of courage in that precious heart of gold that I grew to love more and more has each day goes by, I want you to know that I am safe but your father I don’t know yet, my heart is breaking without him by my side and without you here too my sweet daughter and about your sister… I’m sorry I failed to give you a sibling, she was born premature because of the nerves and the whole anxiety I was in, the doctors I have with me tried everything but she didn’t react,  she didn’t even opened her eyes so I could see them, she was long gone even before I could be ready to deal with such awful event, her funeral was a couple of weeks ago, we burned the body has a tradition of our family and threw the ashes into the sea so she can get the rest and happiness with our ancestor that she haven’t had the chance to find within us, I know I am supposed to be the queen and like that be strong to guide or people but I can’t Vivian, I just wish you were by my side, I miss my little girl, I miss you so much. I know that if you are with Harash and Depitka you are safe and protected so my heart can get some rest and my hopes and prayers are always with you my daughter. May you find your way back to us so we can return to be a family and give back the hope of peace and prosperity to our people, we count on you Vivian and I know the gods blessed me with you for a reason. You are the lioness of Persia, blessed with the blood of Alexander the great and I know when time will come you will put together and conquer like the true and strong queen you raised to become, if you want to write me Depitka knows the address to send me the letters but I will always keep an eye on you my princess, see you soon, With love, your mother.

Vivian looked at the letter speechless, her father whereabouts were still unknown and her sister to be was born dead and Vivian couldn’t be close to her mother to give her the support she needed, when she finished the letter the same fell from her hand to the floor and Vivian looked emotionless through the window while Depitka was with her hands in a prayer close to her heart and Harash was with an arm around his mother shoulders looking worried and the silence of the princess.

“Vivian is...” Harash was about to start to talk but Vivian cut him short.

“My mother is alive and my sister never made it through, my father is still missing, I am okay because this gave me more strength and hope. I just needed to hear from her or him.” Vivian took a deep breath and turned around to look at the mother and son standing with sad faces in front of her.

“It’s okay to cry Vivian you don’t need to be strong all the time, nobody will judge you honey we understand” Depitka spoke concerned.

“Why cry? Things don’t change if I cry all the time and I grew tired of crying, queens don’t cry but make people cry over them and if I am meant to be one then so be it, I need to let go of the girl inside of him to let some room for the woman that is growing more and more strong each day so right now lets it something shall we?” Vivian walked to the couch grabbing her bag and opened the door while mother and son followed her surprised at her speech and braveness among all of this.

“Do you think she is going crazy?” Depitka spoke low so only Harash could hear and he chuckled.

“mother we are talking about Vivian, she was always crazy” Harash smiled proudly at his friend and all of them entered in the car going to a restaurant that Depitka owned when she saved all her money to create something that had Persia culture in it and it could be a place away from home, when they arrived Harash was proud of his mother hard work and commitment to this restaurant and Vivian looked enchanted at this exotic restaurant and she felt like she couldn’t move if Harash didn’t drag her inside by her arm, when they sat on their reserved table they made their orders and everyone knew who Vivian was but they made no reference has a request from Depitka, they looked around and it was crowded and loud and full of Arabic music that Vivian loved to dance to, when she was looking at the people in their tables her eyes landed on someone she thought it would never found on this restaurant since he had a few for himself, Ivar eyes wondered as well and landed on Harash first and his heart started to beat fast in hope to see Vivian with him and he didn’t fail, Vivian was there looking stunning in her white long skirt with a slit on both of the sides showing a bit of her tights and a crochet beige top, she was wearing some sandals with shells on it and her hair was straight and loose on her back having zero make up on her face, Ivar breath got caught on his throat and his mother noticed how flustered his son looked and when she saw what made him like that she smiled at Vivian the girl he talked only with about.

“ she is truly stunning son, why don’t you go and talk with her? I can distract your brothers and father” aslaug spoke in Ivar ear and Vivian just smiled at Ivar before turning away when Depitka called for her,

“ not now mother, but she looks so…forget let’s eat so we can leave then” Ivar brushed it off the conversation and saw Vivian standing up and going to back of a room, he was drinking his beer but couldn’t help trying to follow her with his eyes.

“are you looking for something son?” Ragnar spoke drinking his wine while resting himself against the chair he was sat on.

“ what if I was? It’s nothing you need to know or care about” Ivar spat annoyed and Ubbe gave him a reprehending look before Ragnar smirked at his son’s words.

“ you are quite the mystery my son, one day you are telling me everything and the other day you are willing to try and give hints that you are hiding something away from me, and you know how much I hate secrets right?” Ragnar leaned on the table looking Ivar dead in the eye.

“Ragnar stop with that behavior not in public please” Aslaug tried to reason with her husband but only earned a angry look from him.

“you don’t tell me what to do or how to act are we clear?”

“don’t you speak to mom like that in front of me or I swear I will lose my shit and I don’t care what happens then” Ivar leaned in Ragnar direction and a Arabic music started to play while some female dancers came out from behind a curtain and everyone stood still on their seats while the music started, 4 girls came out and one of red headed very beautiful, two brunettes with exotic looks and long dark hair and then there it was Vivian looking like a goddess with her belly dance outfit decorated with gold and brown colors, her hair was curly her makeup was mysterious making everyone look at her eyes that would turn from blue to light blue, covered in necklaces and with a short skirt and short top the 4 girls danced giving a great evening show for anyone that was watching. Vivian stepped out of the stage with the girls and all them dance around the restaurant stopping close to Ivar’s table who looked at Vivian like she was the reason why he lived, like she was the first woman he ever saw in his life. The way she swing her hips made everyone hypnotized, the way her arms moved so gracefully alongside the rhythm of the music was perfect and she just closed her eyes moving her whole body to the music dropping in that moment all her frustrations and not worrying about nothing, she whipped her long blonde hair down and backwards and drew a figurate with her hips and locked eyes with Ivar like he was the only one there and nobody was, with her silk fabric she walked over him and circled him with the fabric pulling into her and almost brushing their lips making his whole family look surprised and aslaug smirked to herself seeing how Ivar was looking hypnotized by this goddess like woman in front of him, Vivian gave him on last brush on his lips with hers and when the music was ending she walked away swaying seductively her hips making very man swoon and every woman filled with envy at her hourglass shape and she then disappeared to the back so she could get ready to take her clothes off, Harash laugh at her surprised and with how comic the sexual tension between her and Ivar was palpable and then he explained everything to his mother, meanwhile Ivar excused himself to the bathroom while his family left laughing at him and the brothers protesting about how Vivian didn’t even looked at them. When Ivar walked into the room all the girls were surprised and  covered themselves and he apologized but asked them all to leave and so they did leaving only in that tiny room Vivian and him, Ivar looked at Vivian who looked at him through the mirror before starting to standing up and Ivar walks fast to grab her from behind by her waist against him while his lips found her neck but only let them hover it sending shivers down her spine with his hot breath and Vivian dropped her head on his shoulder giving him full display of her neck. Ivar smirked to himself and let his hands travel to her toned and flat belly, his fingers brushing lightly and she sighed closing her eyes.

“  I’m sorry for the way I spoke to you at school and for what I did  before, I didn’t meant to hurt anyone especially you gene” Vivian smiled to herself and Ivar looked at her face through the mirror smiling as well.

“ I don’t know if I will apologize that quick, what makes me think you won’t act like that ever again? And Axel is fine he is still alive and breathing” Vivian opened her eyes to showed them full of lust while Ivar was looking the same, she was amazed at how perfectly handsome he looked on his white t-shirt showing his muscular arms, tight enough to show his muscular chest and abs, dark blue jeans and black sneakers while his hair was loose and a few strings of hair was falling on his god shaped features.

“ did you fuck axel?” Vivian smirked and decided to play with the situation turning herself to face Ivar in the eyes.

“maybe I did, who knows” Ivar jaw clenched he gripped her waist pushing her against the table and throwing everything to the floor and pick her up to sat her on the table while he stood in between her legs, Vivian was burning with desire and Ivar grabbed her jaw locking their eyes.

“did you let him touch you? Did you let him inside of you? Answer me” Ivar was angry and lustful a dangerous mix and Vivian was keeping up with the emotions biting her lower lip and smirking at him grabbing his hand and taking it away from her jaw and grabbed him by the neck pulling him towards her and kissed him full of lust, desire, passion and love combined even though she didn’t realized how much emotion she was putting on the kiss and Ivar corresponded letting his hands travel up and down her body, when reaching her hair he  grabbed a fistful of it and pulled back earning a moan from Vivian and he attacked her neck leaving love marks and hickeys so everyone would know she belonged to him even though it wasn’t official, Vivian hands travel to his shirt and she took it off with his help and she let her hands roam all over his torso admiring how he was, even better then she had imagined,  Ivar pulled her skirt up and returned his lips to her plumped lips he grew to be addicted and let his hands travel all over her tights, his fingers brushed lightly in her panties feeling the wetness he had caused her and he smirked against her lips.

“ I’m going to show you who you belong to” Ivar whispered huskily against her lips and unzipped his pants and dragging them down alongside his boxers let it show his big erection and Vivian bit her lip feeling a bit nervous since he was quite big and tick, he pulled her more into him and positioned himself into her entrance and Vivian hold herself onto his shoulder biting his necks making sure he too was with marks afterwards and in one push Ivar was inside of his goddess, Vivian moan against his neck and her pussy clenched around his hard cock making him dig his fingers deeper on her hips then before, she was sure to be marked in the morning after, she leaned back a little bit and Ivar rested one hand on the table for support while he started to move inside of Vivian’s slowly to tease and she just groaned looking at him with her mouth parted and he smirked wanting her to beg for him.

“ Stop with the teasing now!” she groaned and grabbed his hair pulling him to her and she came close to his ear  “fuck your tight little girl daddy” Vivian was letting her animal and wild side coming out something she never was able to do since she never found someone that made her turned to this state, when Ivar heard her words and how sexy her voice sounded he just lost the control he was having and pounded in her pussy hard and strong, Vivian moans grew louder and louder but no one could hear since the music outside was a little loud for anyone to hear, Ivar moaned her name over and over again praising how good she felt around him and how he never had anyone like her in his life or in his arms, Vivian pushed him away and Ivar stepped back turning her around and bending her over the table teasing her wet pussy with his tip and resume to fuck her in the most animalistic way he ever fucked someone, he grabbed her hair in a ponytail and pulled her head back earning a loud moan from her lips and be bend over her feeling close to his climax and also knowing she was close to since her pussy was convulsing around his cock more than once.

“you are mine Genevieve, no one will fuck you like I just did, you drive me so crazy” Ivar moaned in her ear pushing himself all inside of her and Vivian arched her ass to his earning a hard slap on her ass cheek thing that made her climax around him right away and Ivar came after her and inside of her. Both of them stood still there until she tried to get up but her legs where trembling and he hold her carefully against him embracing her in his arms.

“please I need to know, did you and axel…”

“no we didn’t, I just didn’t like the way you spoke to me in front of your brothers and I won’t let no man no matter how much I love him to humiliate me like you tried to do” Vivian rested her hands on hips and he smiled at him kissing her cheek and picking up her normal clothes and then getting himself dressed at the same time, when she was about to grab a towel to clean herself he stopped her and looked at her with a huge smirk.

“No pet, I want you to put on you panties and to walk around with my cum inside of you and dripping from you pussy so everyone knows you are not that saint and you are mine and only mine, like I am only yours if you give me one chance” Vivian dropped the towel and smiled to the floor getting full dressed and after she removed her makeup she looked at Ivar who was sitting at the table next to her looking at her every movement smiling widely, he grabbed her hand and pulled Vivian to him resting his hands on hers and they intertwined their fingers while he rested their hands on his chest looking up at her with his bright blue eyes and the biggest smile he ever had.

“would you be my girlfriend Genevieve rose? Please?               I will never hurt you, I will show everyone I am yours and no girl or guy will come between us not even my family, I love you gene and I was an asshole to understand that a bit later.” Ivar kissed Vivian’s knuckles and she looked at him biting her lip and leaned over kissing him on the lips tenderly.

“ I love you too and you were not the only one who was late to realize it, and yes I will be your girlfriend” Ivar screamed from happiness and jumped grabbing her by her waist and spun her around while she involved her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply, once they heard a knock on the door Vivian and Ivar exchanged a look between them completely lost.

“who is it?” Vivian called not coming close to the door and Ivar looked at it expecting an answer,

“It’s me open the door mom is worried about you and so am I!” Harash spoke and Vivian eyes widened and Ivar laughed but covered his mouth when she went and opened the door to Harash.

When he entered he couldn’t believe what he was seeing, Vivian hair was wild and so was Ivar, the room smelled like sex and the marks on their necks, Harash got shivers and turned away before he would pucked at the image of his little sister having sex with someone else.

“come on you two, we are leaving and Ivar, my name is James and seeing that something happened and maybe some things changed, welcome to the family “ Harash pushed his pride aside and reached a hand for Ivar to hold something he did when he saw how happy Vivian was, she mouthed a thank you to Harash and he rolled his eyes leaving with Ivar and Vivian following him behind, after they left the restaurant Vivian was being held close to Ivar chest while one of his hand was around her waist in a protective way and another one was holding a cigar, Harash looked at them and he now knew she was a more close to be in danger but he trusted Ivar to take care of her even thought he still didn’t like him at all.

Ivar was turning off his cigar and kissed Vivian’s temple making her smile and snuggle in his chest “do you want to take a walk around new York? We can crash in some hotel if it becomes too late” Ivar looked at Vivian who turned her gaze to Harash and he just raised an eyebrow.

“ you can go, I’m dropping mom at home and I will be with Quinn after this” Harash spoke and smiled to himself at the thought of him with Quinn.

“are you going to be really with her or you are just lying to me?” Vivian teased and Depitka chuckled.

“ all of you go have fun and I will be fine and Genevieve thanks for dancing tonight, you made my wishes come true” Depitka smiled and walked over Vivian kissing her cheek and kissing Ivar cheek too leaving with Harash in their car.

Ivar turned to Vivian smiling and hold her by the waist close to him and rested their foreheads together enjoying the silence of the night and the happiness he never felt in his life.

“I was never so thankful for someone to come into my school like I am now” Ivar whispered and Vivian giggled making him smile and look up to see her eyes shining in the moonlight.

“Your school? You own Harvard and I didn’t know about?” Vivian rested her hands on his chest and he rolled his eyes playfully.

“ you know what I meant, but to be honest gene, I will change for you and I won’t let this be over or let anyone hurt or take you away from me without giving a fight first, I can’t lose you not now or ever and I don’t know how you turned me into this cheesy boy but I feel happy being like this and I don’t care what others will say, I really do love you and the sex is just a bonus babe” Vivian smiled the entire time at her boyfriend love confession until the last part where she burst into laughter.

“Oh god Ivar you were going so well! But yeah the sex was something else, maybe I need to piss you off more so this can be repeated” She teased Ivar and he laughed walking with her through the streets of new York and coming close to a park where they sat and looked over the whole street and the people walking by until Ivar laid on the grass and looked at the stars.

“I love you Ivar, I really do and I don’t know why or how you woke up this feelings inside of me since I never loved no one like I do with you” Vivian whispered softly making Ivar look at her while she looked at the stars.

“How do you know it’s love? You feel the butterflies on your stomach?” he smiled teasing her and she just turned her face smiling.

“no, I feel peace and happiness things I haven’t felt for a long time, I feel like I am at home in your arms and this feeling scares me because I don’t want to be vulnerable only to get hurt in the end” Vivian confessed and Ivar caressed her cheek and kissing her passionately hovering above her.

His phone rang and he groaned sitting by Vivian side and she also sat looking at his phone without him realizing it, when he opened the message from Ubbe he saw what his brother wanted “the bet about Genevieve is still on? Or you have already slept with her because with the time you took on the bathroom we all started to think action happened! Ahah”

Vivian mouth dropped and she looked at Ivar whose eyes widened and he looked at Vivian who face was put shock and hurt.

“fuck” Ivar whispered to himself growing anxious at this sudden perfect moment ruined.

[joeybelle]

Starlight - Chapter 7

Relationship: Cassian Andor x Orginal Female Character

Rating: Mature

Tags: Pre-Rogue One, Slow burn, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Foul language

Cassian didn’t come to see her the next few days so Cora was left wondering if he was still mad at her or if he was just being busy. It was hard to admit that she was feeling guilty about what she said to him, but it was the truth. She felt insulted, so she insulted back. Reflecting on what had happened, she should have handled the whole situation like an adult, apologize even if it wasn’t her fault, smile and make peace. But she was sick and tired of that. While working for the Imperial Army she always did her best to behave, be a model employee, hoping that in that way she could make her father proud. Right now she didn’t care anymore. The only freedom she had left was the freedom to speak her mind.

But she still felt a little guilty. He had been really nice to her lately. There may have been some ulterior motive behind that, because being friendly was giving him a better chance of finding out her secrets, but Cora was grateful anyway. He could have taken a totally different approach and bring out the torture, so she didn’t complain about the niceness. Besides, she didn’t have much to hide. Even if she agreed to contact her father to try and lure him into a trap, she was sure he’d never come to her aid, so their efforts to get that information out of her were in vain.

At the same time his stubbornness was getting on her nerves. She’d seen hints of it since she’d first met him, like when he refused to be put on an IV, but she didn’t know just how headstrong he could be. Right now it seemed to her that whenever she was trying to get a little closer to him he’d sprout thorns and turn into a cactus. In a way it was understandable, she was a stranger, an enemy even, so it was normal he’d keep her at arm’s length, but she found it curious how he was so professional with her during the questionings, ignoring all her insults and stupid remarks, until he dropped the tone and she asked something personal and then all hell broke loose. It was like whenever she scratched his outer layer an avalanche of pent up feelings came flowing out.

She realized she was thinking and maybe overthinking and most certainly making assumptions about Cassian last name Andor (thank you Doc), but her life had become so uneventful that she didn’t have much else to think about. It was either Cassian Andor on her mind or her own demons, and she preferred to think about the living for now. She sometimes found herself wishing they would imprison someone else so she could be a little less lonely.

“Do you think he broke up with us for good, Ben?” she asked the lichen in the corner. He didn’t move, which she took as a sign of agreement. “Don’t be depressed, we’ll find a new inquisitor soon enough.”

She was napping when four guards came at her door. The sound of them banging on the iron bars made her jump and start hyperventilating, cursing loudly.

“General Draven is requiring your presence,” said one of the guards when Cora finally managed to calm down.

“Just fuck him sideways,” she mumbled, but stuck out her hands for him to fasten the handcuffs anyway. So Cassian had given up on her and she was back to being questioned by the milk curdler shaped like a human being. Which was unfortunate for the general, because she was already annoyed by the rude awakening and was set on making someone else’s life hell. She hoped it would be Cassian, but in his absence, the general would do just fine.

They didn’t take her to the usual interrogation room, but to bigger conference room. There were a handful people there, and they all gave off the impression that they were important. Cora recognized General Draven, Mon Mothma, Cassian and Doctor Crane. Some of the faces in the crowd were familiar, so she assumed they’d taken part in her past interrogation sessions. Some faces were new.

The presence of the doctor unsettled her the most. You don’t bring a doctor to an interrogation unless you intend to badly hurt the subject. It seemed they’d finally had enough of her defiance and had decided to bring in the big guns. She hadn’t thought that they’d make such a spectacle of it, though. She found it rather tasteless to invite people to a torture session. But to each their own.

They sat her at a table, making her feel a lot smaller surrounded by so many standing people, but she took her seat obediently. What choice did she have?

“Good afternoon, Doctor Enoch,” one of the new faces addressed her. He looked imposing: tall, well built, dark hair that showed signs of greying around the temples, perfectly shaped beard. He looked like he had been really handsome in his youth. Hell, he was still handsome, she thought. “Can someone please remove her restraints? So we can have a civilized discussion?” he addressed the guards. General Draven started to protest, but the man cut him off. “Please, General, if a whole room of high ranking military can be taken down by one unarmed person, I think we have failed our job, don’t you think?” Cora smirked internally, enjoying that someone had finally told him off. The general looked at her, and even if her face remained unchanged he knew her inner voice was laughing in satisfaction.

“I am Bail Organa,” said the tall man, “and I speak to you today on behalf of the Alliance.” He motioned to the guards and they took her handcuffs off.

“Cora Enoch. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sir,” she automatically replied, rubbing her wrists and feeling a little more comfortable now that she wasn’t handcuffed anymore. She was really curious what this whole thing was about.

“It’s been brought to my attention that you have been cooperating with our intelligence officers, sharing some of your inside knowledge on the Empire.” Cora smiled.

“I wouldn’t really call it cooperation.” She threw Cassian a glance. “More like: talk, or you’ll die in a cell.”

“I am sorry, Doctor Enoch, that the times are forcing us to be a little more cautious. We may even go a little overboard in the name of safety, but I hope you can understand our concerns.” He seemed genuinely apologetic, but at the same time his face didn’t show any signs of weakness. He looked like the man that could sign her execution order without flinching.

Cora nodded. She understood. She hated it, but she understood their mistrust.

“But right now we need your help. Will you be willing to lend us a hand?”

“Depends.”

“I’m going to get straight to the point.” He took a seat in front of her looking into her eyes from the same level. “Our med bay is currently heavily understaffed. Doctor Crane, I think you’ve met him already,” Cora glanced at the doctor and he smiled at her, “is asking if you’d be willing to assist us. To work in the infirmary.”

“You want me to work in the infirmary?” she asked, narrowing her eyes. “Now?”

“Yes,” he said, his voice determined.

“After you threw me in a fucking cell and let me rot there you suddenly realized you need my help?” She laughed.

“I’m sorry if the way we treated you until now may seem unfair…”

“Cruel!”

“If you like.” He leaned back in his chair. “But I’m sure you understand the reasons behind our decision.”

“I don’t give a shit about your reasons,” she said, pointing an accusing finger at him. “I never wanted to be part of this. I just wanted to run away someplace where I could live peacefully for the rest of my days. That’s all.”

“Isn’t that what we all want? Peace? Some of us don’t have a choice but to fight.” Cora crossed her arms over her chest and looked away. “There are no civilians in a time of war, Cora. The enemies won’t care if you were actively involved in the fight or not. They won’t spare your life just because you will tell them you didn’t help us. Do you think they’ll spare our families and friends, just because they’re civilians?” He gave her a sad smile. “Remember that for them you’re still a traitor. Your only hope to ever live a peaceful life is to help us win.” His voice was powerful, but it still had a certain gentleness to it. “You have to pick a side. You’re either with us or against us. But if you chose to be against us, then I am sorry, you’re going back to the cell because we can’t take any risks.”

Cora didn’t know what to say. She hated to admit but he had a point. She couldn’t expect them to just let her go now that she could betray their identities and endanger their families. Even if she would never tell a soul, who could be certain she won’t be captured one day and tortured until she would spill all their secrets. She was too much of a risk. And it was all Cassian’s fault.

She had left the Empire because she was a coward and didn’t want to fight. The imperial army was cruel, but she didn’t know what the life of civilian inside of the Empire was like. She always thought it couldn’t be that bad, but she never really knew. She went from living on a star destroyer to living in a very strict boarding school and then to the army. She was never free to live her life as she pleased, and she was longing for that. Her hate for the Empire, it was personal and directed towards the army. It wasn’t something to start a war over.

But these people, they were putting everything on the line. Their families, their friends, everything. For them the Empire was a real threat and fighting them was a necessity. She was brought up to believe that the rebels were a handful of uneducated scoundrels who revolted because they hated authority and just wanted to plunge the whole galaxy into chaos. But they didn’t seem like that. They were intelligent, well prepared people, who were sacrificing everything for the cause. Maybe life inside the Empire was even worse than what she imagined.

Maybe it was time for her to join the fight. Not actually fight, she sucked at it and would only set them back, but she could still help in her own way. She could probably stop being a coward. But the cowards are the ones that survive, cried her mind.

“What does this job entail?,” she asked, uncrossing her arms and placing them on the table. She was ready to negotiate.

Bail Organa smiled at her. “You will be working shifts in our med bay. You will have to discuss the schedule with Doctor Crane, he will be the one responsible for you and can tell you the exact details. As far as I understand from Doctor Crane, you are perfectly capable of managing a med bay on your own, but you’d be under supervision for a while.” Cora nodded. “We will provide you with accommodation as soon as we can fix some of the old rooms, we’re a bit short on space at the moment.”

“So I’m not going back to the cell?” Her amazement was evident.

“You will, for now. But we intend to move you to a more comfortable location soon.” Cora smiled in disbelief. This was far better than expected. “You have to understand that there are still a few security concerns, but Captain Andor has vouched for you, so I hope you won’t betray his trust.”

“Did he really?” she asked, throwing the captain an icy glare. She had tried refraining from glaring at him the whole meeting, but now the temptation was impossible to resist. “How incredibly odd…” He turned his head and looked away, trying to avoid her gaze, a look of exasperation clearly visible on his face. The tense moment was broken by a rather violent coughing fit coming from Doctor Crane.

“Excuse me,” he apologized, and all the eyes turned back to her.

“Senator Mothma and Doctor Crane have also spoken in your favour.” General Draven did not, she thought. “Of course, you won’t be allowed to leave the base and you’ll be constantly monitored. You’ll be fitted a special pair bracelets that you won’t be able to take off and will always tell us your exact location. You won’t have access to any of the databases or means of communication.”

“So I’m still a prisoner.” She sounded disappointed.

“As Senator Organa said earlier,” Mon Mothma intervened, “we can’t take any chances. This is the only thing we can offer you right now in exchange for your help. You can take it or leave it, it’s your choice.” Her face was stern, but gentle. Cora was a little surprised that she had spoken in her favour.

“You will have until tomorrow to think about it.” Senator Organa stood up, signalling the end of the negotiations, and she followed. “Does anyone have any objections?” he addressed the others. Cora waited for anyone to protest, but they were silent. Even General Draven was silent, but Cora could tell she wasn’t very happy about the whole thing. Or maybe that was his resting face, she couldn’t tell.

The meeting ended and they took her back to her cell. She didn’t have to wait until morning to make up her mind. She still felt she had been wrongfully imprisoned, but it would be very stupid of her to decline their offer only because they had hurt her feelings. That would be letting her pride get the best of her, and right now it was in her best interest to show a little humility. They were offering her freedom back. Not the freedom she always dreamed of, but it wasn’t any less than what the Empire had allowed. Being stuck on a base that she couldn’t leave wasn’t much different than being stuck on a warship that she couldn’t leave without special permission. The job description was the same. The only thing that had changed was the flag.

“I’m leaving here, Ben,” she told the lichen. “They’re going to give me a job and a proper room with a shower.” The lichen didn’t say a thing, but a wave of sadness washed over her. “I’m coming back for you, Ben. I promise I’m gonna take you out of here. Just wait for me.”

In the morning, they came for her again. The meeting was short this time, with only Senator Organa, Mon Mothma, General Draven and the doctor present. She agreed to their terms and conditions and she was officially a doctor once again.

General Draven fixed her bracelets, which were more or less a pair of unchained handcuffs. He even called them so. He explained to her that they will always be able to know where she is at any point so she shouldn’t even think of sneaking away. Also, if she as much as stepped outside of the base’s perimeter the handcuffs would release an electrical current strong enough to incapacitate her. Cora tried joking and asked him what was she supposed to do if someone invited her to a romantic midnight stroll in the jungle, but he had absolutely no sense of humour.

Doctor Crane was much better company when he took her to see the med bay. He explained that there were two, in fact. The one on the third level of the temple, where she had been for her checkup, and one on the base level, that mostly dealt with emergencies. She would work primarily in the one upstairs, where they had the operation rooms, bacta tanks and recovery ward.

She was pleased. The infirmary was probably a little bigger than the one on the star destroyer, but some of the equipment was a little older. Nothing she couldn’t handle, though. It was clean and well organized and it smelled familiar and Cora felt at home once again.

The next day the guards brought her in for her first shift, and as she got dressed in her pristine white medical uniform once again she saw herself in the mirror for the first time in ages. She looked thinner, older somehow. There were bags under her eyes and her skin and hair had lost some of their vitality. She looked sad and tired, but she wouldn’t allow herself to lose hope, she thought. Not today. Today a new chapter of her life was starting.

The new uniform fit her nicely, she noticed as she took a few steps back from the mirror. It wasn’t much different from the one she had worn for the Empire. Similar cut, same standardized pockets and insignia. The only thing that really caught her eye was the emblem on her shoulder: the red crest of the Rebel Alliance.

She was officially a rebel.

Previous chapter

Masterlist

[twruniversity-blog]

Accepted America!

...Guess we’re not going to have to pay for air conditioning anymore.

Try not to freeze your roommate. Vita isn’t going to want to fill out the paperwork.

OOC;

Name: Realm Age: Under 18 Pronouns: Any! Activity: 3 Contact: its-altin-or-altout (tumblr) marching-man (other tumblr) Ships for Muse: I ship Alfred with common sense. 👌 RusAme FiteTP B) and er. Yea. Common sense. (Germany,South Italy South Korea, Prussia, France– those could be options. Maybe Spain or Ned or Belgium or Belarus or… ;) I’m open to trying most lol) I shy away from UsUk and AmeCan, gomen. Timezone: GMT-8 Triggers/Sensitive Subjects: None Any Concerns?: lol my activity apologies in advance

IC;

Character: America Full Name / Preferred Name: Alfred Finnegan Jones Age: 18 Birthday: July 4 Gender: Male Pronouns: he/him Housing: Toutouwai Village- Shared (pls give this boi a roommate he will die without one) Pets: none

IC - In Depth;

[ Trigger Warning: Abandonment Issues ]

Magical Branches: Fire & Ice

Ahurei (Unique Ability): Ice Mimicry- Alfred’s ahurei is something he prefers to keep under wraps as he hasn’t quite learned to control it. It’s something like the Hulk except instead of turning into an angry, green guy he turns into a living blizzard. Think ice golem combined with Elsa levels of suppression, and bam, there’s Alfred.

Major/s: Law, Aerospace Engineering Minor/s: Fire, Political Science Type of Degree: Bachelor’s

Clubs: Science Society, Politics Society, Engineering, Dueling, Science Fiction Films, Football, Tennis

Appearance:

Muscular and tall at 6’0” Alfred is a well built, attractive young man. He’s well aware of the fact that he can turn heads, and he’s practically the definition of a poster boy. His hair is typically neat sans the stubborn cowlick that sticks up to the side no matter what he does. Its golden blonde color only adds to his magazine cover appearance, and frankly, the cowlick only serves to enhance his appearance by giving him an almost endearing look. His eyes are a clear blue, and he wears black framed glasses over them during all waking hours. His skin tone is nearly always a perfect tan, and his smile is blindingly white.

Alfred has dimples on both sides, and he can almost always be found smiling, the edges of his eyes crinkling up. His facial features are nicely set, darker eyebrows and straight nose. His face is surprisingly thin though he’ll adamantly deny this if it’s ever mentioned. His jaw isn’t as square as one might expect. Instead it tends to come to a sharper point. His jaw line definitely still defined. It just isn’t as square as he’d like to think.

Alfred is fairly built, all broad shoulders and defined muscle. His body shape is something like a ‘V’, muscular chest and narrow hips. Around his middle he does still have some baby fat, but don’t let it fool you. He’s stronger than he looks, and this boy looks strong. His choice of attire consists of various superhero, video game and meme t-shirts with shorts or jeans and some sort of sweatshirt if it’s chilly out. He actually can dress up nicely if he wants to, and he knows how to pick out things that match. It’s just that usually he prefers to be lazy. In fact, if it was up to him he’d walk around wearing nothing, but, of course, that’s illegal, and Alfred doesn’t particularly fancy getting arrested anytime soon.

Headcanons:

He hates being alone. Due to an unfortunate incident that occurred when he was younger Alfred represses ahurei. Because of this when he’s not in the same room, or at least fairly close, to where other people are, he’ll begin to go cold. It tends to cause frost to form around him and the temperature of the air surrounding him to dip. It’s essentially his body’s way of releasing all the energy he bottles up by refusing to use his ahurei. Part of the reason why this happens consistently when he’s alone is because his insecurities tend to push themselves to the forefront of his mind without any people around to distract him as well as the subconscious sense that it’s mostly safe to let go without other people nearby.

He’s a total adrenaline junkie. He needs new, exciting thing 24/7 because his attention span (unless he’s scheming) is smaller than a pea.

He’s got some lowkey abandonment issues. Just lowkey.

Alfred can actually cook fairly well. He knows how to whip up a good ol’ southern meal as well as some nicer things. His dad and his aunt and uncle taught him how. Though be forewarned, the things he likes to combine in food tend to be questionable.

He can play guitar.

Aliens are a thing. Don’t tell him otherwise. He will fight you.

Personality:

Alfred would say the best word to describe him would be heroic. Truthfully he might say loud. Others might tell you he’s a meme or ridiculous or insensitive. In reality it might be bold or clever or resilient, but in the end there’s really only one way to sum up everything in a single word, and that word would have to be eccentric. Alfred isn’t your typical guy with a hero complex larger than the empire state building and a very strange set of priorities. He’s defiant, independent, extremely opinionated, analytical, brave even– but Alfred has somewhat questionable morals and a mouth that tends to run for longer than it should.

While he is always for establishing justice he does find interesting ways to go about it. It’s extremely likely he’ll take anything that goes astray into his own hands. He seems to think that he can do anything, and the list of things he won’t do to fix an issue is a small one. He’s a quick thinker and probably lowkey ADHD. He’ll have a plan set up for things he deems necessary to be accomplished, but appear to be goofing off as per usual. It’s always hard to tell whether or not he really meant something or not, or if he cares or not, but Alfred usually does.

He’s a little hyperactive and slightly controlling, but he does mean well. He loves people, and while he does have a bad habit of pointing out every little thing he notices with little regard for other people’s feelings, he does care for his friends. His shiny ‘hero’ act might be something he does believe in, but he is fairly sensitive, and he is a thoughtful person. He tries to do his best when it comes to understanding people, but he has a bad habit of assuming everyone else is like him, and while he himself will go around insulting people, whether intentionally or unintentionally, to hear someone he cares about demean him is one of the worst things for his mental state.

Abandonment issues might be something that come into play, making him prone to being clingy and overly affectionate. He’s already a needy guy, but because of the side effects of suppressing his ahurei he must be around people at all times. Alfred is a little too loud, a little too presumptuous, but he’s bright, he smiles, and he really does want the best for his loved ones.

Strengths: Determined, Sociable, Affectionate, Well Intentioned, Natural Leader

Weaknesses: Impatient, Presumptuous, Insensitive, Defiant, Controlling

Backstory:

Alfred grew up in New York City born to an actress and physics professor. His father was a soft spoken, good natured man, always considerate, always caring. He doted on Alfred endlessly, taking him for donuts on a weekly basis, bringing him to his office, taking him to museums, buying him superhero capes and playing with face paint. He did everything he could for his son while he desperately tried his hardest to conceal his attempts at saving his marriage with Alfred’s mother from the young boy.

For the first few years everything had been happy and perfect. His mother was a beautiful, charismatic, vivacious woman. She was rich, gorgeous– When she met the quiet, mouse of a man Alfred’s father was she practically swept him off his feet, dragging him with her wherever she went. So yes, there was a time when they were happy with their baby boy, nice home, lovely jobs, but as life so often shows perfection never lasts. It wasn’t long after Alfred’s birth that tensions started to rise, and Alfred’s mother changed.

She went from the lively, generous woman she had been to a cynical, violent alcoholic prone to outbursts and harsh words. Alfred never found out exactly why she became like this because when he asked his father he’d just smile tiredly and apologize because he didn’t know. If he did and didn’t want to say Alfred never found out, and of course, his mother would never say. His parents split when he was six, and his father gained full custody.

His father became even more reserved, but for Alfred there was always a smile, a hug, an outpouring of praise and hair ruffles. Sometimes Alfred wondered why his mother had left, but eventually he accepted it. It was when he became twelve and puberty hit that his ahurei began to develop into something far more powerful than just a boy sized flurry of snowflakes. Spikes in emotions brought on by the influx of hormones triggered episodes where he’d lose control. The harder he tried to hide it the worse it got.

Eventually the inevitable occurred when he was around the age of fourteen. When awoken from a nightmare by his father, he lost control, spinning into full blizzard and freezing him and the room. When everything settled his father was long gone, the bedroom a disaster and the glass in the window shattered. He was devastated.

His mother took him in, and while she never hit him she was inclined to scream and tear him apart with her words. Alfred found comfort in his friends, and for the most part, managed to block out the nightmares that happened every couple months at home. He didn’t see much of her for the year he lived with her. She left, telling Alfred he was a burden, and it had been a mistake to even try to keep him around, that he’d never amount to anything. He hasn’t seen her in person since.

So when he was fifteen he moved again to live with his aunt and uncle in Georgia. They were kind to him, and he was happy again after recovering from the initial shock. Though it wasn’t long before he decided he needed to leave before another accident could occur. He found Te Wānanga Ruānuku and hopes to find a home and a community of people who might be able to help him and hide his power from the rest of the world.

Sample RP:

Absentmindedly, Alfred drummed his fingers against the counter in time to the music flowing into his ears from his headphones. The other patrons of the cafe threw glances in his direction, seeming irritated by his ceaseless tapping, but he was oblivious, appearing engrossed in whatever webpage he had pulled up on his laptop and the upbeat tunes in his ears. Either that, or he just didn’t care which Alfred would’ve agreed with as likely option had someone suggested it. He simply didn’t have time to deal with people like them. There were other things on his mind, and much more important matters to be dealt with. Like Space. Always space.

The vast expanses of the heavens had always held a certain intrigue for Alfred. There was something about the swirling galaxies, the pinpricks of light painting pictures in the sky, the planets, and all the rest of the celestial bodies that appeared at night, that drew him in. The thought that there might be someone else up there, that there might be hope for more adventure, for more change, was intoxicating. Alfred had known from the start that this was where his heart was. He was meant to fly. He knew he wasn’t just meant to touch the heavens. They were his home.

So that might have been why he chose to major in it. It might’ve been why he was reading an article on the latest discovery in his field. Maybe it might’ve even explained the reason why the normally hyperactive boy could sit on a grassy knoll, just watching the starry spread, without making a sound for hours on end back when he’d been small. He knew there was a reason the stars were there, and he would find it. He just needed a little more time, but soon, it would be soon. He’d find it soon. If he didn’t he knew it wouldn’t be long before everything crumbled to pieces. At least that was one thing Alfred was sure of. He needed that escape.

[nerdonymous-blog]

Refuting Mr. Plinkett

Part 2:  The Prequel Reviews

In essence, refuting Mr. Plinkett amounts to nothing more than explaining the plots of films to people who are too dumb to understand them, or too stubborn to ever admit that your explanation makes sense.  So, instead of a point for point rebuttal, what I’d like to do is a brief overview that focuses on how grossly Plinkett had to misrepresent the Prequels in order to do his reviews…

(Note:  Some major criticisms, that would otherwise have been addressed in the following overview, have been omitted, because they have been, or will be, dealt with elsewhere.)

The Phantom Menace

Plinkett claims he could tell “something was really wrong” because the film opens with a “boring pilot” and a ship that looks like a doughnut … instead of an exciting pilot and a ship that looks like a slice of pie…

He points it out as a major flaw, and complains at great length, that the movie doesn’t provide all the details of the tax dispute and the blockade, despite the fact that it was merely a smoke screen for the Trade Federation to get into position to invade Naboo, and has virtually nothing to do with the plot.  (Boy, when Plinkett first watched the original Star Wars, the lack of information about moisture farming must have driven him nuts!)

When the Neimoidians try to kill the Jedi with “dioxis” gas, Plinkett goes on this incredibly long, rambling thing that makes no sense, and has no discernable point…  

“How does Qui-Gon know what kind of gas it is, before he smells it?  Isn’t that, like, a contradiction?”  

Like, no, it’s not.  Some toxic gases are identifiable by both their color and distinctive odor (e.g. chlorine, fluorine, nitrogen dioxide).  And Qui-Gon could have smelled the gas, without it doing him serious harm – it depends on the concentration and toxicity…

In the end, it seems that Plinkett just doesn’t believe that the Jedi could’ve known the droids were going to open the doors “in a very short time” – even though Jedi “can see things before they happen”.

He thinks the Neimoidians should have destroyed the Republic cruiser while it was in outer space (so the resulting debris would’ve been scattered in all directions, I guess…), instead of destroying it inside their own docking bay, because … it will allow them to dispose of all the evidence of their crime.  (…uh … yeah … what fools…)  And Plinkett apparently believes that the Neimoidians build their docking bays out of flammable and combustible materials.  He doesn’t explain why.

Strangely, he thinks it would be in the bad guys’ interest to get word to the senate as soon as possible that they plan to invade Naboo, and maximize the chance that they’ll get busted before the Queen signs the treaty to make the invasion legal – in effect, foiling their own plan.  I don’t follow his “logic”.

Plinkett claims that there’s no reason to Qui-Gon’s plan that he and Obi-Wan should stow aboard separate ships (as opposed to stowing aboard the same ship).  Because, if they do, one of them could end up landing “hundreds if not thousands of miles” closer than the other to their intended destination … increasing the likelihood that at least one of them will be able to reach the Queen in time…  And that’s bad … because … well … he doesn’t say.

Plinkett thinks it’s too late for the Jedi to try to warn the Naboo about the army, if they’re going down with the army…  (If two guys with guns were coming to kill you, would you prefer an advance warning of one minute, or none at all?  Just ask Hank Schrader.)

He doesn’t understand how Qui-Gon intended to get ahead of the invasion army, to warn the Naboo, without a transport.  And he doesn’t understand why Qui-Gon would follow Jar Jar to a city, where he could acquire a transport.  Plinkett apparently believes the two things are unrelated.  

Plinkett has “analyzed” less than 15 minutes worth of plot, when he makes this absurd statement:  

“The Star Wars saga is now damaged totally beyond repair.  The lapses in common sense and logic begin to compound on the movie, and now it is broken.  I could end this review here … but, I’m really just getting started…”

He says it like he’s ruefully declaring some kind of far-too-easily-won victory.  The guy’s so deluded, he thinks all he has to do is scornfully offer a few of his inane half-baked “logical” criticisms, and we’ll all be convinced that he’s running intellectual circles around the movie, and all of us.  How embarrassing.

The Neimoidians invade Naboo, place all the people in prison camps, and starve them.  Yet, Plinkett somehow remains convinced that their plight is a consequence of the trade embargo.  He brings it up repeatedly throughout his review:

“Did they not have the capacity to survive on such a lush planet, with a huge power reactor, for one day without space trade?”  

What exactly does the lushness of their planet, or the size of their “reactor”, have to do with being denied food in a prison camp…?

“So, the Queen waits around for some kind of approval for something, to stop her people from dying.  Why are they dying?”  

They’re not.  The Neimoidians used Sio Bibble to send a transmission to the Queen, in order to track her down, and they made him say that the people were dying, that “the death toll is catastrophic”.  

In a following scene, Gunray says to Bibble...

Nute Gunray:  Your queen is lost, your people are starving, and you, Governor, are going to die much sooner than your people, I’m afraid.  

It’s amazing what you can learn, when you pay attention…

“So, you’re expecting me to believe that the people [who] built this technological wonder were dying without space supplies for two days?”  

…groan…

Evidently, continually displaying that he has zero understanding of the children’s film he’s reviewing, which he had ten years to reflect on, was impressive to a lot of morons.

Plinkett’s ability to consistently miss the point is amazing, but what’s truly astounding is his talent for missing his own point:  Essentially, he says that the Neimoidians were morons for not forcing Amidala to sign the treaty right away…  And then, he says that they’re morons because Amidala might have signed the treaty right away … you know, because if she had, there’d be no need for a vote of no conf--  Well, I covered this stupid shit in Part 1.  

The Jedi rescue the Queen, and they run the blockade – Plinkett thinks they shouldn’t have taken the risk, and just stayed on the planet … where it was safe…????????????

Despite the fact that he’s a fan of both Star Wars and Star Trek, Plinkett tries to convince the viewer that he’s baffled about how spaceship shields are supposed to work.  (It’s really quite pathetic.)

R2 saves the ship – Plinkett says he didn’t…  And don’t you dare believe what you can plainly see for yourself in the movie!  Just take Plinkett’s word for it!

“They inexplicably send R2 up to the Queen to get a pat on the head, I guess.  She thanks the little piece of equipment, like it’s a person.”  

He claims that this was ridiculous, that the Original Trilogy characters, “even the kind-hearted Luke Skywalker”, didn’t care about droids or their feelings…  

The Empire Strikes Back  0:16:50

Luke: Thanks, Threepio.  (What?!  He thanked a droid?!!)

Return of the Jedi  1:15:47

Luke: Thanks, Threepio.  (What?!  He thanked a droid … again?!!!)

Here are a few other examples, if you want to check ‘em out;  A New Hope  0:28:25,  0:30:09,  0:32:20,  0:45:45,  1:24:50,  1:27:05,  1:43:45,  1:58:07.  The Empire Strikes Back  0:42:15,  0:43:40,  1:26:45.  Return of the Jedi  0:36:30,  1:43:00,  2:07:26.

Plinkett is absolutely baffled by the idea that the Queen’s decoy would be acting as the Queen’s decoy (Yeah!!!  What’s that about?!), and that the Queen would want to keep her identity a secret (even from the Jedi – both as a need-to-know-basis type security measure, and so she’ll have more freedom of movement) for her own protection, while her enemies are trying to track her down and capture her … you know, in case someone comes after her … like Darth Maul, for example.  But, naaahh – that would never happen.  It’s just plain baffling.

“You’d think the real Queen would want to hang out in the throne room area, to stay current on any updates about what’s going on.”  

Hey, yeah – I mean, with five handmaidens, how could she possibly receive updates, unless she’s in the throne room?  And, of course, it’s critically important for her to receive these updates immediately … while she’s stranded on a desert planet, and can’t do shit about any of it anyway.

He hates Qui-Gon Jinn for various reasons that make no sense…

Plinkett pointlessly offers a number of alternative solutions to the heroes’ problem of being stranded on Tatooine.  This is my favorite:

“Trade the Naboo cruiser for a less fancy, but functional ship”.  

In the highly unlikely scenario that it were not seen as a potential threat to the Queen’s security to even attempt to trade the ship, and proceeding from the extremely dubious assumption that there were no other sensitive issues related to allowing it to pass into the hands of whomever, the ship still didn’t have a working hyperdrive generator – a part that was so expensive that Qui-Gon “might as well buy a new ship”.  Do you think “fancy” had that much trade-in value on Tatooine…?  Like people would line up to trade their means of getting off of the desert wasteland planet for a giant sand-dune-ornament.  Right…

In reference to Anakin having built C-3PO:

“If you’re a little boy with a knack for building things … why would you build the exact same droid that seems to have been mass produced by a manufacturing plant somewhere?  Wouldn’t you build some kind of unique robot from your own imagination?”  

Plinkett apparently believes that eight-year-old Anakin was an engineer who designed C-3PO and fabricated him from the ground up, rather than acquired 3PO piece by piece, and simply assembled him, the way a kid would build a model airplane … ‘cause, you know … logic…  

“Then George Lucas completely and utterly finally ruins Star Wars forever, by having Qui-Gon explain that the Force is microscopic organisms.”  

Which, of course, is not even close to what Qui-Gon said.  Midi-chlorians are not the Force.  You know how they have blasters instead of guns, lightsabers instead of swords, speeders instead of cars, Tauntauns and Dewbacks instead of horses and camels…?  Midi-chlorians are (sort of) the Star Wars equivalent of DNA – the Force-sensitive gene.

“This entire idea, and why this is in the movie, is so baffling to me that I cannot even wrap my mind around it.”  

Oh – is that because you’re so intelligent and insightful?  

“It was never even explored, or mentioned, in the following two films.”  

Yes, it was.  In Revenge of the Sith.  You should pay more attention to the movies you review.  Maybe, if you did, you wouldn’t be so baffled all the time, and you could wrap your mind…

“Everyone waits until they arrive at Naboo to start discussing how they have no plans at all, and no idea what they’re doing.”  

Oh, everyone waits that long do they?  Okay, time to test your knowledge of Special Relativity.  

Question #1: How long does it take to travel five light-years at lightspeed?  

Question #2: How long does it take to travel fifty light-years at lightspeed?  

Question #3: How long does it take to travel five hundred light-years at lightspeed?  

The answer to all three questions is the same: it takes no time at all – the trip is instantaneous.  That is, it’s instantaneous from the traveler point of view.  From an observer point of view, the trip takes five, fifty, and five hundred years, respectively.  Meaning, traveling at lightspeed is effectively the same thing as time-traveling into the future…  

Which leads me to the first of two genre conceits that modify the concept of speed-of-light travel in Star Wars: hyperspace.  Traveling through hyperspace allows the characters to avoid the time distortion effect (i.e. they don’t time-travel into the future).  The second conceit is that characters do experience the passage of time while traveling at lightspeed, through hyperspace.  How much time is unclear.  So, how long did they actually wait “to start discussing”...?  We don’t know.  It might have been five minutes.  

As for the second part of Plinkett’s stupid and pointless criticism, that the characters are “discussing how they have no plans at all, and no idea what they’re doing” – that’s simply not what’s happening in the scene (and you don’t have to take my word for it): the Queen has just revealed to the Jedi, and Captain Panaka, that she intends to go to war with the Trade Federation.  She has a plan, but she hasn’t yet told them what it is…

When Amidala reveals her plan:

“Why are we all listening to this fourteen-year-old girl…?”

Then, Plinkett demonstrates his prowess as a military strategist (or, is it tactician?) with a brilliant alternative suggestion for the final battle.  He says they should focus on “taking out the droid control ship first”, and if that were successful, they could “skip the other two dangerous parts”.  (Those other “parts” being; attempting to capture the Viceroy, and drawing the droid army away from the city, with the Gungan army.)  

Yeah, sounds good.  Let’s do it Plinkett’s way…

First, you’ve got to get the pilots to their fighters.  Do you send them into the city alone?  Remember, you didn’t do the “dangerous part” of drawing out the droid army, so opposition is much heavier this way.  If you send the pilots alone, they almost certainly won’t even make it to their planes.  So, you send soldiers to protect the pilots.  Say that after the pilots take off, some of your soldiers are still alive: what do they do?  Do they stay in the city and get captured or killed, or return and reveal the location of your camp to the enemy...?  

Say the location of your camp somehow remains a secret (for the time being): how do the Viceroy and his droid army on surface react, once the space battle has begun…?  …while you’re doing nothing, except sitting there, waiting to learn the outcome…?  

And, what if the space battle is lost?  (And it would have been...)  What would your chances be then of succeeding at “the other two dangerous parts”?  Do you send in the Gungan army, now?  Of course, since the vulture droids have already shot down all your fighters, and killed all your pilots, there’s nothing to stop them from flying to the surface, and blasting the Gungan army into oblivion…  What then?  Do you think you’d have a very good chance of capturing the Viceroy?  And, of course, that was the crucial thing – not the space battle…

No … on second thought, I think I’d rather listen to the fourteen-year-old girl.

“How about a bad guy in the movie whose motivation is clear?”  

Palpatine was trying to gain political power.  Darth Maul wanted to kill Jedi, for revenge.  This was somehow unclear…?

Attack of the Clones

Plinkett criticizes the portrayal of Obi-Wan and Anakin’s relationship:  

“So, then we’re given sixty seconds in an elevator to establish that Obi-Wan and Anakin are friends.  And, please notice how this is … accomplished … by them recounting things that happened in the past, things we never see.” 

What did Plinkett want?  A flashback?  They don’t really do those in Star Wars.  (This was written prior to the release of The Last Jedi.)  Or, should they just not allude to events of the past, ‘cause friends don’t do that in real life…?  

Plinkett then compares this “sixty seconds in an elevator” (more like thirty seconds – but, who’s counting) to Luke and Han’s relationship over the course of the three films of the Original Trilogy:  

“We see their friendship grow.”  

Oh, now I understand … we don’t see Obi-Wan and Anakin’s friendship grow during those thirty seconds in the elevator.  Point well made, sir!

Ignoring context and subtext, Plinkett cherry picks the bits that display friction and tension in Obi-Wan and Anakin’s relationship:

“And this is the height of their friendship?!”  

No, they reach the height of their friendship in the first half of Sith … but there’s an abiding brotherly love between them throughout Clones, as well.

Plinkett starts in on the sequence that begins with an assassination attempt on Padme, leads to the speeder chase, and ends with Zam Wessel’s death:

“You know, I could spend ten hours talking about just how incredibly dumb this entire sequence is.”  

Oh, good…

Plinkett’s criticisms of the sequence all make perfect sense, provided; that you ignore, or forget, or refrain from thinking about Padme’s line, “I don’t need more security”, and Anakin describing the assignment to protect her as “overkill” … that you assume the surveillance cameras in Padme’s bedroom were the only cameras anywhere on Coruscant … that you disregard the distinct possibility that in their attempt to assassinate Padme, Jango and Zam might have had the additional motivation to not get caught … that you accept Plinkett’s assertion that he knows more about droids in Star Wars galaxy than Obi-Wan Kenobi does … that you forget that Obi-Wan is a Jedi, and what his abilities allow him to do … that you refrain from thinking about how Zam Wessel’s shapeshifting ability actually works … that you disregard what character motivations actually make sense in context … and that you ignore pretty much everything that basic common sense would tell you.  So, it shouldn’t be too hard for Plinkett fans.

“This movie operates under the logic that assassinations only take place at night.”  

Right.  Except for the one other assassination attempt, which took place during the day, and was basically the first thing that happened in the movie.  

Loaded question:

“What makes ‘em so sure that the assassin’s gonna try and kill her tonight?”

Nothing.  What makes you so sure that they’re so sure?  Because if they weren’t, they’d ignore their assignment from the Jedi council, shirk their duties, and go barhopping?

Anakin:  She covered the cameras.  I don’t think she liked me watching her.

“She turns off any kind of camera surveillance … at the very least, aim the cameras at the windows …  You see, surveillance cameras are only really useful for some kind of slow attack, that you could run in and stop.  They won’t do any good if someone, like, launched a missile at the building…”

According to Plinkett, Padme didn’t cover the cameras that were in her bedroom – she turned off “any kind of camera surveillance”.  He seems to think that her extraneous security, in the persons of Obi-Wan and Anakin, are the only ones responsible for her safety, and that the security cameras in her bedroom must have been the only security measures in place.  Makes me wonder what Plinkett thinks the Naboo security officers, and Captain Typho, do to earn their paychecks…

He suggests that Zam could’ve used the assassin droid as bait, and that after the Jedi were gone, just floated her speeder up to the window and shot Padme.  Right.  Because after Obi-Wan jumped out the window, and Anakin went after him, Typho, his security officers, and Dorme promptly left the room, and Padme just went right back to sleep.  Yeah, that’s probably what happened.  Makes sense.

When Zam’s shapeshifting ability is revealed, Plinkett describes it as:

“The most advantageous attribute that an assassin could possibly have”.  

Could be…

“This also leads me to wonder why someone who could disguise their face, by changing it, would need to wear a disguise.”  

Keep that in mind…

In the nightclub:

“The assassin does something out-of-character: he attempts to kill one of the Jedi.  This guy’s mission was to kill Padme.  If he’s in a position to where he could sneak up on a Jedi, then why isn’t he using this opportunity to escape?  Especially when he’s not sure where the other Jedi is.  These are, like, amateur mistakes.”  

Funny, I didn’t see Zam attempt to kill Obi-Wan.  This scene is shot and edited in such a way as to mislead the audience:  It looks as though Zam spots Obi-Wan at the bar, then turns and stalks Anakin.  But, it’s revealed that she was watching Anakin heading away from her, and then she approached Obi-Wan from behind with her gun drawn.  So, what was her motivation?  Plinkett thinks she intended to shoot Obi-Wan in the back, in front of dozens of witnesses…

Zam’s chameleonic ability is that she can take someone else’s form by making physical contact with them, and then she assumes their identity.  This isn’t explained in the film, but Plinkett’s interpretation makes no sense given what we do know.  That is, if Zam were capable of morphing into anyone or anything at any time, why would she not have changed her appearance once she entered the club, so the Jedi wouldn’t recognize her…?  And remember, her motivations are to assassinate Padme, and to not get caught…  

Do you see what I’m getting at…?

She sticks her gun in Obi-Wan’s back, marches him to someplace with no witnesses, murders him, assumes his identity, goes back to Padme’s apartment with Anakin, waits for the right moment … and kills Padme.  Make more sense?  Yes, it’s “just my interpretation”, but it’s based on what’s conveyed in the film.  Plinkett’s interpretation is based on nothing more than the thoughtless and arrogant assumption that he understands the Prequels better than George Lucas, who devoted a decade of his life to making them…

“The audience is expected to accept too many things we are and are not told … [about] intergalactic space politics, and the Jedi.”

“If the Galactic Republic is made up of a thousand worlds, then why can’t they scrounge up a volunteer army…?”  

No one said they couldn’t.  They would hardly be voting on whether or not to do a thing that they’re not capable of doing.  Hey, Plinkett – maybe now would be a good time to say “common sense”.

“What is this prophecy about?  What does it say?  Who wrote it?  When?  What does bringing balance to the Force mean exactly?”  

It’s about the chosen one bringing balance to the Force.  It says that the chosen one will bring balance to the Force.  We don’t know who wrote it. (Why?  Do you think you might know the guy?)  We don’t know when it was written. (Are you skeptical about a certain period of ancient Jedi prophecy?)  It means destroying the Sith.

“So, when they find out that you got a high midi-chlorian count in your bloodstream, I guess your parents give you to the Jedi as a baby to be trained in this creepy cult-like environment and you lose all your free will …  See, none of those kids made a personal commitment to follow this rigid lifestyle.  You can’t make those kind of decisions when you’re two.”  

Those poor kids.  Being taught how to use the Force, and build a lightsaber, by wise, compassionate Jedi must have been just awful for them.  They didn’t get to choose their lifestyle at two-years-old, like the rest of us did.  And once the Jedi Order has you, they won’t allow you to leave.  Unless you’re Count Dooku.  Or, Ahsoka Tano.  Or, any other Jedi who wants to leave the Order.  What a nightmare!

Plinkett says that romance is forbidden to Padme:

“For no reason, she’s not allowed to love, either.”  

I don’t have any idea what he’s talking about, and neither does he.  

He claims that Anakin and Padme have no reason to love each other, except they’re good looking.  I would argue that their love is based on the bond they formed years earlier, when Anakin was just a child, but … who’d buy that in a movie romance?

Tristan and Isabel Two  (Legends of the Fall)

William Wallace and Murron  (Braveheart)

Sayuri and The Chairman  (Memoirs of a Geisha)

Forrest and Jenny  (Forrest Gump)

Plinkett claims it’s obvious that “Palpatine’s behind it all!”  This is something he brings up again in his Revenge of the Sith review – that everyone’s stupid for not realizing that Palpatine is secretly a Sith Lord who’s manipulating galactic events…

“So, Obi-Wan finds the planet where the dart came from, and it belongs to a bounty hunter named Boba Fett who’s hanging out there.”  

(He meant to say, “Jango Fett”.  And he meant that the dart belongs to Jango.)

“He’s the guy who’s trying to kill Pad-a-me.  Pad-a-me is the chief senator opposed to the military creation act.  Drawing any connections yet?”  

Do you mean any connections to Palpatine?  No.  Because there is no connection to Palpatine.  Ostensibly, Palpatine is not in favor of the military creation act.

“Then Obi-Wan sees all the clones, and discovers that the order to make them was placed under suspicious circumstances.  This was like ten years ago, and the exact same time that Palpatine was elected Chancellor.  Palpatine’s behind it all!”  

So, the order was placed at the same time Palpatine was elected…  I would say that this is just circumstantial evidence … but, it’s not.  It’s just circumstantial.  It’s not evidence of any kind…  

If you found out that some Australian scientists were making an army of Maori warrior clones, somewhere on the other side of the planet, and that they started the project in November of 2008 … you would assume that Barack Obama was responsible, because he was elected President of the United States at approximately the same time?  By that reasoning, Obama could be held personally responsible for anything (and everything) that happened anywhere (and everywhere) in the world on the day of his election.  That makes sense to you?  Quick, Plinkett – say “logic”!

“So, Obi-Wan sends ‘em a message, and tells ‘em about the clones.  But, Mace Idiot still thinks they’re looking for Pad-a-me’s assassin.”  

Uh … they are still looking for Padme’s assassin.  

“If you think that a Sith is pulling strings in the senate, just order blood tests done on everyone.”  

Well, shit.  That’s simple.  Where were you when they needed you?

“George Lucas ruins the lightsaber, and the Force, all in one scene.”  

In reference to the lightsaber duel between Yoda and Dooku, Plinkett makes a few points;

1. Lightsabers are overused in the Prequels.  2. The lightsaber is an impractical weapon for certain Jedi, including Yoda.  3. Some verbose, awkwardly expressed, nearly incomprehensible thing about how Yoda fighting with a lightsaber ruins the concept of the Force.

“Like anything that’s cool, if it’s used too much, it becomes boring.”  

1.  That depends on how it’s used.  Every Star Wars saga film (unless you count the Sequel Trilogy) features at least one lightsaber duel that ends in death and/or dismemberment.  It keeps the threat alive.  It’s not using lightsabers sparingly that makes them exciting.  If, in future films, opponents clash swords for a while, then say, “We’ll meet again!” and everyone walks away unscathed – that’s how lightsabers will become boring.

2.  They come in all shapes and sizes in Star Wars.  Some characters are very tall, some are very short.  Suppose Obi-Wan were to be attacked by a twelve foot tall Sith Lord, with a seven foot lightsaber…  Should he not use his lightsaber to defend himself … or, should he modify the way he fights...?  And a duel is a relatively rare occurrence: a sword is impractical against ranged attacks as well (knife to a gunfight?), but the Jedi compensate with skill, and by the way they use their weapons.  The point is that Plinkett’s notion that a lightsaber is impractical only for certain Jedi is moronic - the Jedi don’t use lightsabers because they’re practical, they use them because they’re traditional.

“Yoda has a handicap, based on his physical limitations, when his character should be above that sort of thing.”

3.  Believe it or not, to a certain degree, I sympathize with this.  Yoda’s duel with Dooku confronts us with a kind of idea that we don’t like to be confronted with…  Just as we would prefer not to think that the ones we love are vulnerable to the very same physical phenomena that destroy all “lower” life-forms, we would prefer not to think that the green, pointy-eared, transcendent character who is the living embodiment of centuries of wisdom could also be punted like a football.  It’s undignified to the point of seeming an injustice that nature would permit it.  

There was a kind of majesty in Yoda’s power and placidity as he was portrayed in the Original Trilogy … and seeing him frantically leap around to defend himself from Dooku’s saber attacks seemingly undermined that.  It did, at first, seem somehow beneath him.  (But then, when I heard that Yoda was going to duel the Emperor in Episode III, I had a total nerdgasm.)

If Plinkett had simply said, “I didn’t care for Yoda’s duel with Dooku, and I would prefer that they didn’t show Yoda fight with a lightsaber,” and left it at that, I wouldn’t have had any problem with it.  (Once upon a time, I might’ve even agreed with him.)  But, of course, Plinkett can’t just leave it at that.  He has to bring it to the place of George Lucas ruined Star Wars…  

Plinkett objects to the idea of Yoda facing an enemy who can nullify his command of the Force, by being equally powerful, and put him in the position of having to defend himself with physical strength and agility:

“If you can match your opponent’s skills with the Force, you then better also be physically strong, too.  And this goes against everything that the Force is about …  By making Yoda a little guy, they were illustrating that the Force is something beyond the physical.  But, by showing Yoda fight with a lightsaber, it ruins all that, because it takes that concept and those rules and throws it in the dumpster.”

Notice how Plinkett expresses his objection as though “Yoda” and “the Force” are interchangeable (i.e. if the Force is “beyond the physical”, Yoda is as well, therefore putting him in physical jeopardy contradicts the concept of the Force and breaks the rules).  It’s as if he thinks that Yoda facing an enemy who is equally strong in the Force negates the idea that Yoda is strong in the Force – which it doesn’t.  He’s confusing an idea conveyed via the character with the character – it’s the notion that Yoda is not limited by his physicality, in the Force, being extended to the physical itself, and made absolute.  The only way Plinkett’s “concept and those rules” could be preserved would be if Yoda were all-powerful.  This is not a rational criticism – it’s an ought-is fallacy:

No one should punt Yoda like a football, therefore no one can punt Yoda like a football.

But, Yoda is not the Force.  He’s not all-powerful, or “beyond the physical”, or invincible, or invulnerable.  He never was.  My point is that Plinkett’s criticism is implicitly self-contradictory.  That is, if Yoda were not limited by his physicality in the physical, his not being limited by his physicality in the Force wouldn’t mean anything.  And it is this very meaning that Plinkett claims to value…  

“Nothing much happens at all, except … they get the clones, I guess.  It’s a colorful mish-mash of stuff that happens that bridges the gap between Episode I and Episode III.”

…

How insightful!

Revenge of the Sith

“So the very first thing we gotta sit through is a pointless and unexciting sequence where Anakin and Obi-Wan fight off robot things on their ships, only to eventually make it to where they were going to get to anyways.”  

If action sequences are pointless because the characters in them “eventually make it to where they were going to get to anyways,” wouldn’t that make every action sequence, in every movie, pointless…?  

Plinkett gives two examples of what he calls “backtracking” (like retconning) in the opening space battle scene; 1. Anakin was a great pilot, and 2. Anakin’s a “good guy” (for wanting to help a clone trooper pilot).  But, what Plinkett calls “backtracking” I call establishing, or re-establishing, something that’s extremely common in television series and film franchises, including the Original Trilogy of Star Wars (e.g. nearly everything that happens in the first twenty minutes of The Empire Strikes Back).  

He then misrepresents the previous films in his attempt to convince you that he’s making some kind of legitimate point, hoping you’ll forget, or disregard, that;  1. Anakin’s piloting skills were initially established in the Phantom Menace podrace, and  2. Whether they ever regarded the clone troopers as “disposable people”, in the two years of fighting side by side, the Jedi came to think of them as brothers-in-arms – which is further established by Obi-Wan’s interaction with Commander Cody…

In reference to the sequence involving the rescue of Chancellor Palpatine, the defeat of Dooku, and the confrontation with General Grievous, Plinkett asks approximately two dozen rhetorical questions in a row, to demonstrate how confusing it all is, and that it makes no sense.  Nearly every question he asks is predicated on whichever counterintuitive presupposition is required as a condition for his (feigned?) confusion.  That is, Plinkett only succeeds in demonstrating that he doesn’t understand things that, while not explicit, are, nevertheless, obvious.  For example, that Sidious’s fellow conspirators (Dooku, Grievous, et al.) know only as much about his plan as Sidious wants them to know, and that they are being manipulated by him…  

And Plinkett clearly seems to think that Palpatine’s plan can only make sense if it’s absolutely guaranteed to be successful.  It’s like he’s never heard of a calculated risk…

“What if Dooku just happened to spill the beans about Palpatine being Sidious, when he realized he was betrayed?”  

It would have been like asking someone to believe that Winston Churchill was in cahoots with Adolf Hitler.  No one would believe it in a million years.  Anakin would have seen it as Dooku making a pathetic, desperate attempt to save his own life – which is, essentially, what it would have been.

“What if Anakin didn’t kill Dooku after Palpatine said to kill him?”  

Depending on where he was exactly, when the ship went down, Dooku would’ve died, or he would’ve become a prisoner of war … and then died, probably…

When Grievous bows to the hologram of Sidious, on Utapau, Plinkett says, 

“Oh!  Grievous doesn’t know…?!” 

as if it’s some sort of stunning revelation.  Three years before this film was released, in Attack of the Clones, it was established that the Sith Lords, Sidious and Tyranus, had created the Separatist movement, commissioned the clone army, and started the Clone War, which they had been planning for years, while their public personas, Palpatine and Dooku, were the leaders of the opposing sides – that they were manipulating the entire galaxy.  So, why the fuck would Grievous know that Sidious was Palpatine…?  

“Did Sidious tell [Grievous] to capture Palpatine so that he could lure the Jedis on board only to kill Dooku?”

Grievous:  But, the loss of Count Dooku…

“Wait – I guess not.”  

As if killing Dooku could not have been Palpatine’s plan, unless Grievous was in on it.  Bitch, please.

Palpatine:  Get help.  You’re no match for him.  He’s a Sith Lord.

“Obi-Wan then turns, and says something incredibly stupid:”

Obi-Wan:  Chancellor Palpatine, Sith Lords are our specialty.

Why exactly was that an “incredibly stupid” thing to say…?  Because Obi-Wan was the first Jedi in a thousand years to defeat a Sith Lord…?

 ...or, because two minutes after he said it, Anakin became the second?

“His real response should have been, ‘Wait – Get help from where?  From who?  Who on this ship could help us?’”  

Evidently, Plinkett thinks it’s unreasonable of Palpatine, Supreme Chancellor of the Republic, to consider that the two Jedi who came to rescue him might have brought some clone troopers with them…  

“Then, after Dooku’s dead, there’s a sudden urgency to get off the ship, when before there was no urgency at all.”  

Actually, before Dooku was dead, there was a lightsaber duel happening.  And before the duel, Anakin and Obi-Wan sensed “Count Dooku” and “a trap”, respectively.  They mentioned that in the hangar … remember?  They were anticipating the confrontation.  You get it?  So, what’s the criticism…?  The lightsaber duel had no sense of urgency?  And, wait – don’t tell me – it also lacked humanity and emotion, right?

Based on Palpatine’s urging Anakin to leave Obi-Wan behind…

Palpatine:  Leave him, or we’ll never make it!  

Plinkett believes Anakin should have concluded that Palpatine was a Sith Lord.  I guess it’s extremely suspicious that Palpatine wouldn’t want his only protector, on board an enemy ship, in the middle of a giant space battle, to be hampered by carrying an unconscious man on his back…  

It wouldn’t be perceived by Anakin as Palpatine being panicky, or fearful for his own safety … no, he’s a Sith Lord – it’s the only reasonable explanation.  I know that whenever I see someone acting in a cowardly fashion, I always assume they must be an evil mastermind who’s manipulating the entire universe...

  “The terrible result of the limited script focus is the lost opportunities of all the other elements at play.  Basically, the point of all three films is just to get Anakin into the Darth Vader suit…  The ironic part is at the center of all this is the largest galactic war ever…”  

So, here Plinkett complains that he doesn’t get to see Clone War adventure that’s not strictly relevant to Anakin’s fall to the dark side…  Does he mean something like that space battle, at the beginning, that he said was “pointless and unexciting”?  Or, does he mean…

“Obi-Wan goes off on a mission by himself that’s pointless to the ultimate conclusion of the story.  This is what they call filler.”  

Oh.  So, now he doesn’t want to see anything that’s even slightly tangential to “the ultimate conclusion of the story”.  ‘Cause it’s “filler”.  But, if it hadn’t been in the movie, would he have called it a “lost opportunity”?  

“So, again in this film we’re told about those wacky fun adventures that Anakin and Obi-Wan have that we don’t get to see.”  

Contradict yourself much?  Plinkett’s complaining about not getting to see “those wacky fun adventures” that he calls “filler”, and that he clearly wouldn’t bother to watch if they made a whole TV series about it.  Which they did.

Plinkett claims that the fact that Coruscant was visibly unaffected by the Clone Wars makes “the sacrifice and risk of the rebellion utterly pointless”.  (Imagine how disappointed he’s going to be when he sees the Sequel Trilogy.)  For some reason I can’t fathom, he thinks that of the billions and billions of people, living on tens of thousands of worlds, only those who live on Coruscant matter.

“Instead of waiting three minutes for the clone troopers to arrive, and using his surprise advantage to kill Grievous and end the war, [Obi-Wan] foolishly jumps into the middle of a bunch of bad robots, to apparently challenge Grievous to a duel, or something.  All them robots could’ve just started shooting him to death!”

Here’s my interpretation:  Obi-Wan knew that Grievous fancied himself a match for a Jedi, and that he would want to defeat Obi-Wan in single combat.  That’s how he knew “all them robots” wouldn’t start shooting him to death.  (Plus, he’s got that Jedi ability to look into the future…)  And by drawing the droids’ attention to the duel, Obi-Wan provided the clone troopers with a surprise advantage against “all them robots”.  

My interpretation is based on what we know about Grievous, Obi-Wan, the Jedi and the Force, and how events play out, from watching the film.  Here’s what Plinkett’s interpretation is based on:

“Obi-Wan Kenobi is a stupid asshole idiot head.”

Plinkett keeps insisting that killing Grievous will end the war.

“Remember, killing this guy will end the war!”  

This is, of course, based on Palpatine’s line to Mace Windu that the senate will vote to continue the war as long as Grievous is alive.  Palpatine’s motivation was to get the Jedi to eliminate Grievous for him, but … Plinkett doesn’t really get subtext.  And, no, the war will continue if Grievous is alive does not mean the same thing as the war will end if Grievous is dead.

“When Obi-Wan finally kills Grievous, Palpatine then springs his trap to have all the clone troopers kill the Jedis, and then he blames the Jedis for trying to take over.  Why didn’t he just do that before?!”  

You mean before he had converted Anakin (the fatherless boy Palpatine himself had created with evil magic for the sole purpose of making him his apprentice) to the dark side?  Or, do you mean before he had become the beloved leader who had seen the Republic through the darkest times, been voted all his emergency powers, eliminated Dooku, set up the Separatist leaders to be slaughtered, and had the individual Jedi Masters all spread out on different worlds, each surrounded by clone troopers?  Gee, I don’t know.  I can’t think of a single reason.  It doesn’t seem like timing was a factor at all…

“So, what motivation, now that the war is over, would the Jedis have to try and take over?”  

Much like Palpatine, the Jedi were about to lose their own emergency powers: the Jedi had become military leaders because of the Clone War.  

Palpatine:  All who gain power are afraid to lose it.  

Could it have been any more clearly spelled out?

“And, it’s really apparent by his actions that Palpatine is the one who’s trying to take over.  I mean, he is trying to be the Supreme Chancellor forever.”  

It’s really apparent to the movie audience.  As far as the characters are concerned, Palpatine never sought power – he’s had all his power thrust upon him – from his nomination and election to his emergency powers and extended term of office…  

“The opportunities to stop Palpatine’s plan and prevent Anakin from becoming evil were so numerous and obvious that they could be put in a giant list.  Let’s do that, shall we;”

“1. Tell Palpatine that his term is up.  If he changed the law, argue to make a new law to change it back.  Then ask him to state his reasons why it shouldn’t be changed back.  Ask him to explain why he in particular is so qualified to conduct a war.”

Okay … so, I guess the Jedi are now lobbyists, or legislators … who are attempting a coup that would, most bizarrely, take the form of an impromptu debate / job interview / competency hearing … thing…  Honestly, if you’re not just laughing (or weeping) at the idiocy…

“2. Use the process against him.  Have Jimmy Smits call for a vote of no confidence in Palpatine, if Step 1 doesn’t work.”

If Step 1 doesn’t work … ????????????  Call for a vote of no confidence on what basis?  Vague suspicion?  And Palpatine is going to be voted out by the same senators who applaud when he declares himself Emperor…?  Right.

“3. Find out facts about the Clone Army.  Look into where the clones came from a little more thoroughly than not at all.”  

They did, in the Clone Wars series.  

“4. Look into his heart.  If you suspect Palpatine is up to no good, try to sense his emotions.  If he’s able to block you, he just might know the ways of the Force, specifically the dark side.”

The Jedi sense his emotions, and discover that he’s feeling stressed out…  And…?  Seriously, what difference would it make how Palpatine was feeling, if you don’t know what those feelings are about.  As far as I’m aware, the Jedi can’t read minds.

“5. Midi-chlorian count.  Check his midi-chlorian count.  Get some blood from his stool.”

Sure, just get some of his blood.  ‘Cause that wouldn’t be impossible…  

The Jedi suspected that Palpatine was “up to no good”, not that he was a Sith Lord.  And even if they had suspected he was a Sith Lord, and they were somehow able to confirm that he had a high midi-chlorian count – it would be useless circumstantial evidence.  What would be the point…?

“6. Physically confront Palpatine.  Instead of confronting Palpatine inside his private cramped office hallway, wait until he’s in public to arrest him.  Eventually, he’ll try to escape, or attack you, and then he’ll be exposed in front of everyone.  If he doesn’t, then you can actually arrest him like planned, and elect a new leader in his place.”

Mace:  He has control of the senate, and the courts!  He’s too dangerous to be left alive!  

Arresting Palpatine in public would very, very likely have backfired.  And waiting to arrest him most certainly would have.

“7. Use blatantly obvious evidence to your advantage.  Before confronting Palpatine with a lightsaber, again in private with no witnesses, show the damning security tape footage to the senate, which is actually in session at the time you find it.  Or, take it to someplace and broadcast it over the news.”

You mean the “damning security tape footage” that, by itself, does nothing but corroborate Palpatine’s story?  And I’m sure the local news would be only too eager to run some footage brought to them by public enemy #1.

“8. Team up together and murder him!  Instead of splitting up, Obi-Wan and Yoda should have first attacked Palpatine, and then went and killed Anakin.”

Why do you think no one came to Palpatine’s aid when Yoda showed up in his office…?  

Palpatine:  I have waited a long time for this moment, my little green friend.  

If both Yoda and Obi-Wan had shown up, and Palpatine had thought there was a chance he would lose, I think it’s very likely the clone troopers from the Jedi temple massacre would’ve popped over for a visit.  Also, think about how Yoda exited the senate building…  

Wouldn’t have worked for Obi-Wan, would it?

Plinkett offers an alternative to the Jedi Council assigning Anakin to spy on Palpatine:

“Why don’t you spy on him by watching the security holograms that records what’s going on in his office?”

This suggestion accompanies a clip of Obi-Wan watching a security recording from the Jedi temple.  (Pssst.  Hey, Plinkett – Palpatine’s office is not in the Jedi temple.  Sorry…)

Plinkett claims that Anakin is dumb for not knowing that Palpatine is a Sith, simply because Palpatine knows about the Sith.  In reference to the scene in which Palpatine tells the story of Darth Plagueis:  

“It’s like being in a casual conversation with someone that you’ve known, and then they start talking about how they’re currently reading Mein Kampf.”

Actually, it’s a lot more like being in a conversation that’s not casual at all, and he references Rise and Fall of the Third Reich.  And it’s even more like Palpatine just received a liberal education (whereas Anakin did not).  It makes sense that, during the Empire’s reign, information about the Jedi and the Force would’ve been suppressed (Luke had never heard of the Force, and Han didn’t believe in it).  But, in the days of the Old Republic…?  The existence of the Sith would hardly have been esoteric knowledge, considering that they used to rule the galaxy.  

Plinkett says that Palpatine “seems to despise the Jedi, and keeps talking about the advantages of being a Sith Lord”.  Consider what’s actually happening in the scene: Palpatine is talking about the Jedi plotting against him – to the Jedi who the Council just sent to commit treason by spying on him.  From Anakin’s point of view, what Palpatine was doing was disparaging the Jedi by likening them to the Sith – and not without reason, as far as either one of them were concerned.  On the surface, the Plagueis story was simply meant to illustrate Palpatine’s point about the Jedi’s fear of losing their power.  The “advantages of being a Sith Lord” was something that Anakin just happened to pick up on…

When Anakin becomes Darth Vader:

“Dumbass agrees to just go off and kill everyone to neatly tie everything up, even though to him none of it would actually make sense.”  

Why not?  Obi-Wan put 2 and 2 together:

Obi-Wan:  The Chancellor is behind everything, including the war.  

Plinkett on Anakin’s motivation in the climactic lightsaber duel:

“Anakin is mad at Obi-Wan, ‘cause Obi-Wan’s a meanie-head.”  

Wow.  What an incisive observation…

“This entire sequence is the film version of compensating for lack of a story and ability to connect with the audience on an emotional level …  There are two types of people in this world; people that understand what I’m saying, and people that like the Star Wars prequels.”  

Wow.  What an arrogant jackass.

Plinkett complains about Vader’s “overblown importance” in the Prequels, that in the OT... 

“He was not Space Jesus”.  

Of course, the one and only thing that’s referred to as turning Vader into a Christ-figure is the “virgin birth”.  (Slightly off the subject, but – who ever said Shmi was a virgin?  Maybe she just did the math, and realized she couldn’t have been pregnant for 18 months…)  Personally, I think it works well for the story, and makes sense in that Star Wars has always been a synthesis of mythological archetypes.  And, of course, the symbol of the virgin birth is not exclusive to, nor did it originate with, the story of Christ:

“The virgin birth comes into Christianity by way of the Greek tradition.  When you read the four gospels, for example, the only one in which the virgin birth appears is the Gospel According to Luke, and Luke was a Greek.”  - Joseph Campbell, The Power of Myth

“[Darth Vader] was way overemphasized in these films … for no reason other than he’s Darth Vader, and that he’s famous to us …  Lucas allowed the outside world to seep into the storyline, when it really shouldn’t have …  But, if you look back at it from a story perspective, in A New Hope, he was just a weirdo in a suit – he was a part of a bigger story … he just seemed like one of the bad guys that carried out the business of the Empire …  Vader was just some kind of asshole in a robot suit…”  

Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah…

Stoklasa is looking at this “problem” from exactly the wrong angle.  Whatever Vader seemed to be in A New Hope is irrelevant.  What matters is what Vader became by the end of Return of the Jedi.  And with all of Stoklasa’s referencing “Screenwriting 101” in relation to the Prequels, you’d think he might have done so here.  That is, the beginning and ending of a story are connected in that they are the opposite ends of the story’s “spine” – the one thing that the story is all about.  Beginnings foreshadow endings.  And so, in the case of the Star Wars saga, the beginning is determined by the ending.  Because, in a story’s end, in its climactic action, the ultimate meaning of the story is expressed…

The climax of the Star Wars saga is Darth Vader’s redemption.  Vader and Luke resolve their internal conflicts, one right after the other (Luke rejects the dark side and Vader turns back to the light), Vader kills the Emperor, at the cost of his own life, effectively destroying the Sith…  The Prequels were the set-up for this payoff.  That is, the Prequel Trilogy was primarily about Anakin Skywalker’s fall to the dark side, not because “Lucas allowed the outside world to seep into the storyline”, but because that’s what the story needed to be about – what it was already about.  

It’s called “basic story structure”.

How’s that for “Screenwriting 101”, asshole?

“How Vader became Vader is not as interesting as his redemption.  How he became Vader really didn’t matter.”  

Well … that’s an opinion.  So, what exactly makes this fucktard, who simply didn’t care about (or understand) the story being told, suited to judge the value of that story…?  

Of course, there are a godzillian more criticisms I could refute, but I think I’ve pretty effectively demonstrated that Plinkett’s reviews are pure bullshit.  How about you?  What do you think of Plinkett’s reviews, now?  Let’s be masochistic and check the comments section:

“It’s by far the greatest film essay ever made.  And hilarious too.”  

“One of the best ‘documentary’ movies ever made and should have won awards.”  

“The amazing thing about it is that it’s so astute.  Like when he asks his friends to describe any character from The Phantom Menace without describing their physical appearance or costume, and they can’t.”  

Oh, that.  

Impressed by that, were you?  Okay, here we go…

“The biggest and most glaring problem with The Phantom Menace is the characters.  This is, like, the most obvious part of moviemaking, but I guess I gotta explain it when talking about this turd.  Let’s start at Moviemaking 101, shall we?”  

Plinkett helpfully, or condescendingly, explains to us what a protagonist is:  

“The protagonist is someone that’s down on their luck, in a bad place in their lives, or someone where everything just doesn’t always go perfectly for them.  Eventually, they’ll be confronted with some kind of obstacle or struggle that they’ve got to deal with … eventually, our [protagonist] will find themselves in the lowest point, where it seems like all is lost.  But, eventually they’ll pull through, and conquer whatever force opposes them.  It’s satisfying when our hero gets ahead from where they started off at.  They make, like, a change.  This is called an arc.”  

Plinkett simply ignores the fact that his description of a protagonist fits multiple Prequel characters like a glove, and then, poses a question:  Who’s the main character?  One by one, he rules them all out for brief, reductive, glossed over, stupid reasons, and concludes:

“There isn’t one.”  

This is Plinkett’s first major criticism of the characters in The Phantom Menace: there isn’t a protagonist among them, and there isn’t a “main character”.  

But, what Plinkett offered as a definition of “protagonist” is rather a description of how a protagonist would typically be presented in a movie.  That is, a protagonist may or may not be down on his luck, may or may not be sympathetic, and may or may not “pull through, and conquer whatever force opposes them.”  A protagonist may experience internal conflict, leading to character growth, creating an arc – but not necessarily.  All that’s really required to be a protagonist is that the character has an outer motivation; a desire, or a goal.  And a story may contain multiple protagonists.  “It is known”.  ( …that was a Game of Thrones reference… )

Technically, the “main character” is the character whose outer motivation is the spine of the story.  (i.e. The main conflict centers around this character’s goal.)  In The Phantom Menace, that character is Queen Amidala.  As Lucas stated, in the Episode I commentary, it’s the Queen’s story, told from the point of view of the Jedi.  

By the way, this is the reason Plinkett gives that Queen Amidala can’t be the main character of Episode I:

“‘Cause she was some foreign queen”.  

Seriously.  That’s it.  And you don’t have to take my word for it…

Of course, Plinkett’s intention here is to give the impression that Lucas is such a dolt, such a complete hack, that he oops, forgot to include a protagonist.  But, it’s absurd.  You can’t have a story without a protagonist.  It doesn’t make any sense.

Plinkett’s second, or other, major criticism is that the characters are weak.  To demonstrate his point, he asks four or five people (friends?), to describe a couple characters from the Original Trilogy, and a couple from The Phantom Menace, without referencing their appearance or their vocation/“role”.  When asked to describe Han Solo, Plinkett’s little panel of experts comes up with “roguish” and “dashing” and “charming”, etc.  C-3PO: “prissy” and “bumbling” and “comic-relief”.  But, when they’re asked to describe the characters from The Phantom Menace, we briefly see them each struggle and stammer…  Qui-Gon Jinn: a couple of people mention that he has a beard…  Queen Amidala: one man immediately throws in the towel, and claims that describing her is “impossible” because “she doesn’t have a character”.

Do you see the little flaw with Plinkett’s method?  

“The more descriptive they could get, the stronger the character.”  

This is a fallacy: Argument from silence (argumentum ex silentio) – the conclusion is based on the absence of evidence, rather than the existence of evidence.  It’s the these-characters-are-weak-because-my-friends-are-inarticulate “argument”.  That is, if I ask you to describe a person or a thing, and you are unable to do so, it could mean that the person or thing is non-descript.  But, it could also simply mean that you are dumb.  So, which is it…?

It’s been pointed out many times, by many people, that the characters of the Original Trilogy are not complex and nuanced so much as they are types, or, put another way (with a slightly negative slant), clichéd.  Consider Plinkett’s own description of the OT characters:

“…the classic hero on a journey, the adventurous rogue, a damsel in distress, the wise old sage…”  

Does it get any more cliché than that?  

Clichés, of course, by virtue of being clichés, come quite readily to mind.  You don’t really have to think too hard about them.  That is, describing characters that are archetypal is possibly the easiest thing in the world to do…  

And are “strong” characters, and characters that can be easily and neatly summed up in a few words, really the same thing…?

In addition, the principal characters of the Original Trilogy are quite in-your-face (and in each other’s faces), whereas those of The Phantom Menace (the Queen and the Jedi) are relatively disciplined and restrained, which makes sense given their circumstances and vocations.  And this restraint is accentuated by those characters’ juxtaposition with the most over the top, in-your-face, silly character to ever appear in Star Wars.  

In Luke Skywalker, Han Solo, and Princess Leia you had a farmboy, a space pirate, and a leader of a small band of rebel fighters (Yes, she was a princess, and “a member of the Imperial senate”, but she was pretty far removed from her status as royalty, and her position of influence within the galactic government, even before her planet was destroyed, and the Emperor dissolved the senate).  In the grand scheme, they started out as three nobodies who were in desperate danger up to their necks.  So, they held nothing back.  They argued, they shouted, they bickered, they called each other names…

Can you imagine the Episode I characters, the Queen and the Jedi, acting like that?  The audience would’ve criticized the film on that basis.  They would’ve wondered, why don’t they act more disciplined and restrained … like they did … in the film…?

It may be that Stoklasa and friends just don’t pick up on subtlety and nuance.  Remember, we’re talking about a guy whose idea of a subtle and nuanced character is a serial killer who constantly slurs his speech, only ever eats pizza rolls, and fucks his cat.

If you think about it, how difficult is it really to come up with a character description, to rival “roguish, dashing, and charming”, for Queen Amidala?  A character who was elected ruler of her people at fourteen-years-old ... who is so compassionate, and has such integrity, that she is opposed to putting even one anonymous boy, on some backwater planet, in harm’s way, when it would be expedient ... who, strictly speaking, is not a pacifist, but clearly committed to non-violence (until all other alternatives are exhausted) ... and who then bravely leads the charge to take back her world...  It’s not all that subtle, is it?

The point is that Stoklasa doesn’t explain why the characters are weak, he just shows footage of his friends saying nothing about them … until he gets to the review of the plot:  

Plinkett expresses a particular hatred for Qui-Gon Jinn.  His reasons…?  He says that Qui-Gon’s character is “totally baffling … and I do not know why he’s in this movie”, and refers to Qui-Gon as “a drunk”, and “Qui-Gon Booze”.  He says, “We constantly have to question every single action that’s taken by Qui-Gon”, and adds, sardonically, “the wise Jedi.”  

He impugns Qui-Gon’s judgment in stowing aboard the ships to reach Naboo, and in running the Trade Federation blockade:  

“Qui-Gon Jinn could’ve very easily gotten everyone killed!”  

He claims that Qui-Gon has “very questionable moral values”, pointing out that he’s dishonest, and…

“…repeatedly uses his Jedi mind trick to his advantage, whether it’s … to use worthless money to scam Watto out of his ship parts, or to fix a legitimate bet to his advantage.  It’s generally wrong to do these things, wouldn’t you say?”  

Well, gee, gosh, golly, Plinkett, you’re right – it is wrong to do those things…  Are you familiar with the term “dilemma”?  Morality aside – you’re clearly an expert on screenwriting (knowing what a protagonist is, and all), so you know that when a character faces a dilemma, he or she makes a choice between two irreconcilable goods, or the lesser of two evils.  And that this implies the rightness or wrongness of an action depends on context.  Yes, Qui-Gon did fix a legitimate bet – in order to cheat a slave master out of owning a human being.  To you, this is “wrong”?  But, it’s Qui-Gon Jinn’s moral values that are “very questionable”…?  In fact, Qui-Gon never uses the Jedi mind trick to his own advantage.  He uses it to help save people’s lives, and free them from slavery and oppression.

Plinkett asks, if the ends justify the means, why didn’t Qui-Gon just steal the part from Watto?  He suggests Qui-Gon could have taken the hyperdrive by force – by choking Watto, “while Pad-a-me grabs the part, and they run out of the shop”.  If we ignore the fact that “the part” was not something Padme could’ve grabbed and run out of the shop with (as it looked like it probably weighed about a thousand pounds), while it may have been a solution to Qui-Gon’s problem, how would this have played to an audience?  Seriously, a Jedi hero physically attacking a character who had not attacked him?  How would this have played to children…?  Scratch that.  How would this have played to Plinkett?  You don’t think he would have criticized it as being ridiculously out-of-character for a Jedi?

“This also leads me to believe that Qui-Gon Jinn is incredibly stupid.”  

In addition to the seeming implication that Qui-Gon is gullible (“Watto tells him he’s the only guy in town who’s got the part … Watto is using an older-than-dirt sales tactic…”), Plinkett asserts that there were a number of obvious simple solutions to Qui-Gon’s problem (simpler than the one he chose); Qui-Gon could’ve sneaked into Watto’s shop, in the middle of the night, and stolen the hyperdrive … “Trade the Naboo cruiser for a less fancy, but functional ship” … hire a transport … go to another junk dealer, and use the mind trick to swap the republic credits for money that Watto would take…

The practical difficulties, security risks, and potential negative consequences of these alternative solutions aside, consider what actually happens in the film:  The first thing Qui-Gon does after he leaves Watto’s shop is check with Obi-Wan to see if there’s anything aboard the ship with which to barter (seems perfectly reasonable).  Then, he and his group start walking to we-don’t-know-where, to attempt we-don’t-know-what…  We don’t know because the sandstorm hits, and they have to take shelter.  And before the storm is over, Qui-Gon has discovered that Anakin is strong with the Force…  That is, these alternative solutions are out of context.  They’re moot points.  We don’t know that these and/or other options were not, or would not have been, considered or attempted by Qui-Gon.  Not every thought that goes through a person’s head immediately and automatically flies out their mouth … unless they’re Plinkett, I guess.  

And Plinkett has criticized many scenes and sequences of the Prequels as being “boring”, and “stupid and pointless”, and as irrelevant “to the ultimate conclusion of the story”.  So, you’d think that the last thing he would want is the films to contain more such scenes…  

Suppose Episode I had included scenes of Qui-Gon going from junk dealer to junk dealer to confirm that Watto was indeed the only guy in town who had the part he needed.  And scenes of; him attempting to swap his republic credits for “something more real”, and to hire a transport, and to trade the Naboo ship for a functional one, and/or explanations as to why these were not viable, or desirable, options.  All in order to clearly demonstrate to the audience that Qui-Gon Jinn was not “incredibly stupid”.  The inclusion of these scenes certainly would have made the movie longer, but would they have made it better?  Would the movie have made more sense?  What do you think Plinkett would have thought of these scenes…?  Yeah.  Exactly.

“Instead of using, like, the most common sense approach to everything, Qui-Gon concocts some kind of convoluted scheme…”  

Plinkett then spends nearly two minutes pretending to be confused by the betting.  I’m not going to jump through this particular hoop.  The betting is not at all difficult to understand, and if you don’t get it from watching the movie, an explanation from me isn’t going to do you any good.

At one point, Plinkett seems to be speaking directly, and scornfully, to Qui-Gon himself:  

“You say you took R2-D2 because he has the specs on the type of part you need, but yet Watto seems to know what you’re talking about, and you have a thingy that shows it.”  

Actually, the “thingy” shows an image of the ship, not the part.  And although Plinkett repeatedly implies that he finds it implausible when Qui-Gon is seemingly guided by the Force, he now, paradoxically, thinks it’s absurd that Qui-Gon didn’t have a premonition about Watto’s ship-parts knowledge…

Have you ever seen anyone work this hard to invent reasons to hate a fictional character?  Have you ever heard anyone, other than Plinkett, say that they didn’t like Episode I, because Qui-Gon Jinn was stupid, and had questionable moral values?  No, I didn’t think so.  So, what’s the real reason that Plinkett hates Qui-Gon Jinn…?

“The older, wiser Jedi is the opposite of what he should be.”  

I think that pretty much sums it up.  Qui-Gon doesn’t conform to the expected cliché.  And we know how Plinkett loves his clichés.

And after all Plinkett’s yammering about Qui-Gon, we run into this glaring contradiction:

“The more descriptive they could get, the stronger the character.”  

“An incredibly stupid drunk, with poor judgment, and very questionable moral values.”  

I’d say that’s at least as descriptive as “roguish, dashing, and charming”, wouldn’t you?  I mean, I’m not saying that I agree with the description, but for a character he initially claimed was non-descript, Plinkett sure found a hell of a lot to say about him.  

But, the most telling moment isn’t even in Plinkett’s Phantom Menace review.  It’s in the Phantom Menace Review Interview Outtakes:  Stoklasa asks one of his friends, “Can you explain the difference between Obi-Wan Kenobi and Qui-Gon Jinn … in Phantom Menace?”  After a pause of about three seconds, “No.”  And they laugh.  Fade out.  

Taking into account that Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan are both “good guys”, and both Jedi, the distinction between the two couldn’t have been more sharply drawn.  Their characters are contrasted throughout the entire film;  Qui-Gon is serious, Obi-Wan is flippant.  Qui-Gon is warm, Obi-Wan is aloof.  Qui-Gon is serene, Obi-Wan is anxious.  Qui-Gon is unconventional, Obi-Wan is by-the-book.  Obi-Wan is reverent of authority and tradition.  Qui-Gon is a maverick who trusts his own instincts and judgment above all.  Obi-Wan is the skeptic.  Qui-Gon is the true believer.  Obi-Wan is clearly frustrated with his Master’s seemingly reckless and rebellious nature.  Qui-Gon grows impatient with having his judgment questioned by his Apprentice.  As much as it’s possible for two good Jedi to be opposites, these two are opposites.  Even when it comes to the lightsaber duel, when they’re separated by the ray shield doors... 

Obi-Wan is on his feet, ready for the fight... 

...and Qui-Gon has entered a meditative state – and looks as though he may have fallen asleep.  

And Stoklasa and his toadies didn’t notice any of this…?  

Stoklasa asks his friend if he can tell the difference between the two characters, and all the genius can say is “no”.  And then, they laugh.  That’s the point.  It’s a small group of friends who didn’t like The Phantom Menace, haven’t wasted a single thought on it, and find it funny that Stoklasa’s tearing it down.  There’s nothing more to it than that.  And Stoklasa’s little demonstration “proves” exactly nothing.

Concluded in Part 3…

[spynotebook]

If the election of an American president abetted by Russian interference seems stranger than fiction, you're almost right. Exactly 30 years ago, in the midst of the Cold War, ABC aired a seven-night, 14-and-a-half-hour miniseries depicting life 10 years after the Soviet Union manipulates the presidential election as meek and deflated Americans shrug. “Amerika,” was heavily criticized at the time for peddling the histrionic premise of a bloodless coup. And while much of the production remains implausible, its core message is more relevant today than ever: They did it because we let them.

In the alternate universe of “Amerika,” (available only in VHS, though it can be found on YouTube) a puppet government was installed in 1988, after a sham election in which both major party candidates were Soviet stooges. By 1997, the 50 states had been replaced by 12 “administrative areas.” Communication systems had been taken out – no Internet or cell phones in this version of 1997 – cutting Americans off from each other. The mighty U.S. military is no more; the areas are patrolled by Soviet-controlled “United Nations Special Service Units.” Dissidents, if not simply exiled to desolate parts of the country, are brainwashed at the “People’s Acceptance Hospital.” Older Americans grumble about food shortages and a lost way of life, but are resigned to their fate. Kids are taught their “ancestors” were “bullies” who only killed Indians, exploited workers and dumped those who couldn’t work into “slums” to die. (Lincoln is still revered, but his image now gets paired with Lenin.)

Hope for a restoration of democracy is personified in Devin Milford, played by Kris Kristofferson. Milford, clearly styled on then-first term Senator John Kerry, is a Vietnam vet-turned antiwar activist-turned Massachusetts congressman. He was the last gasp for freedom, running as an independent in the 1988 presidential election before being sent to an American gulag. “Amerika” begins with his release after a six-year imprisonment. He’s not free. He’s confined to 25-mile area in his hometown of what was called Nebraska, but is now part of the “Central Administrative Area.” The Russians try to pressure him to help stifle nascent protests, but he is too stubborn and becomes the symbol of the resistance.

Milford’s refusal to bend is contrasted by his childhood friend Peter Bradford (Robert Urich). Bradford begins as a county administrator disgusted by his Russian overlords. But as he tries to do as much good as he can within the system, he gradually becomes closer to the regime. He eventually agrees to help formally dissolve the United States by turning the administrative areas into rump countries – the final phase of the Soviet’s grand plan, expedited by a false-flag massacre of the entire U.S. Congress, blamed on American terrorists. Bradford is tapped to become president of the new country, “Heartland.”

Hovering over them is the Andrei Denisov (Sam Neill), a KGB agent effectively running the Central Administrative Area (not to be confused with the real-life Andrey Denisov, who is Russia’s current ambassador to China). Cynical manipulation comes as easy to Denisov as breathing – he casually takes credit for a “controlled provocation,” stirring up “young people” to “resist in ways that make them feel good, not those that actually accomplish anything.” But he holds a soft spot for America. At key moments, he lectures Milford and Bradford – with a trace of sadness – on why their fellow Americans surrendered the Cold War.

How was it that the Soviets were able to waltz into America? The specifics of the coup are never spelled out, but various explanations are given as to why Americans were too demoralized to resist. Milford, in archival footage from his doomed presidential campaign, blames the scars from Vietnam, which “struck the core of our perception of ourselves as a people.”

Some point to economics. One man cites the decline of American manufacturing: “They wanted a country which didn’t have a productive capacity. I guess we were [already] well on our way to giving it up.” Marion Andrews (Wendy Hughes), Milford’s conniving ex-wife who betrayed him in 1988, rationalizes that Americans chose to welcome the communists because they were tired of chronic inequities: “Many of us took the opportunity to create an America we believe in. There were millions of people who never participated in the so-called ‘American Dream.’”

Milford has a different explanation. In a separate scene, he tells his sister soon after his return home that Americans were too scared and selfish to support his campaign and stand up for democracy: “I lost faith in everybody. Nobody wanted to risk anything for anybody else. Everybody afraid they were going to lose what they had. They knew it was bad. They were just afraid it’d get worse.”

Bradford, angrily defending his decision to be the face of secession from America to his horrified wife, echoes Milford: “For most people, being an American never meant that much anyway … Damn, I am so tired of this ‘I’m an American’ bull! Where was all that patriotism when it counted? Where was that willingness to sacrifice? Nobody wanted to join the damn Army to defend the country unless they got paid well. Nobody wanted to give any time to public service unless they could make a career out of it.”

But Denisov sums it up most succinctly, “You lost your country before we even got here.”

The mini-series is all but totally forgotten today, largely because it was an overhyped ratings bust. In the run up to its premiere, it had attracted massive controversy, especially among the left, which presumed it was going to be seven nights of right-wing war-mongering propaganda. (Mother Jones magazine published a six-article attack spread ahead of its airing.) Not only did the Soviet Union complain, but so did the United Nations, which threatened legal action over the use of its name and logo. (In fact, “Amerika” treats the U.N. like an essential institution; Milford laments America “abandon[ed] the principle of a United Nations,” letting Russia, “usurp its name and debase its function.” Denisov further explains that America’s disinterest in the U.N. and international affairs was what turned the world against it.)

Mother Jones’ Todd Gitlin hoped that “CBS and NBC will rise to the occasion with some ingenious counterprogramming.” NBC came through. While “Amerika” won the ratings battle on its opening night, attracting 22 million households, “The Facts Of Life Down Under” was close behind with 19 million. Lacking a gangbusters premiere installment, ratings for “Amerika” steadily declined over the week.

Beyond artistic merits, “Amerika” suffered from poor timing. Production began a few years earlier, when President Ronald Reagan declared the Soviet Union an “evil empire” and joked on a hot mic that he signed legislation to “outlaw Russia” so “we begin bombing in five minutes.” (Many presumed ABC greenlighted “Amerika” to pacify conservatives livid over “The Day After,” its 1983 depiction of nuclear holocaust, though the network denied it.) But by February 1987, Soviet leader Mikhail Gorbachev had acknowledged the USSR’s economic troubles, begun his glasnost reforms and reached out to Reagan. “’Amerika’ became an anachronism before it ever saw the light of day,” crowed The Nation’s Andrew Kopkind in his critical review.

Watching “Amerika” through the lens of 2016 is a wholly different experience.

It’s still a slog. This is not a pulpy “Red Dawn” or a grippingly tense “Manchurian Candidate.” The pace is slow, the lectures often leaden and the editing nonexistent. Seven hours could have easily been lopped off, if not for the desire to have a momentous, week-long television event. The New York Times TV critic warned, “getting through the enormous glut of stereotypes and preachifying dialogue … will tax even the most willing suspenders of disbelief.” The Washington Post was more charitable, deeming it “worth enduring” because of its “daring grimness.”

And there are plenty of outdated references. The 20th century Cold War with the Russians was an existential battle against communism. The question posed by “Amerika” was whether Americans were capable of giving up on democracy, but also on capitalism. In turn, “Amerika” is at its most incredulous when depicting Americans accepting the thin gruel of communism. An early scene shows Bradford at the local diner, wistfully ordering “Aunt Jemima pancakes, real maple syrup and tiny pork link sausages.” The owner, in no mood for jokes, shoots back, “I’ve got soybean cakes and I’ve got molasses and that’s better for you anyway.” This is nonsense. If there’s one thing Americans would get up off the mat for, it’s pork.

But the New York Times TV critic’s conclusion in 1987, “that the United States would simply crumble from within because of a national moral flabbiness -- is monumentally implausible,” doesn’t seem so implausible today.

With the economic argument over communism resolved, the remaining divide with Russia is political: democracy vs. dictatorship, humanitarian internationalism vs. cold nationalism. Access to sausage is not in danger, giving Russia a fresh opening.

American conservatives with a nationalist, and even authoritarian, bent like Donald Trump are not unnerved by the prospect of Russian influence over the U.S. government. Some see common cause with President Vladimir Putin in the war against Islamic militants, shelving concerns about Russia’s imperial ambitions and comfort with genocidal tactics. Much like how the Russians in “Amerika” want the United States of America to dissolve, both Putin and Trump have rhetorically undermined the European Union, and Trump has questioned America’s commitment to Putin’s bête noire, NATO. Weaker global and regional institutions make it easer for individual nations to act with impunity.

Russia isn’t popular with most Americans, but Trump supporters did not flinch when he deflected allegations that Putin’s government murdered journalists by defending him and smearing America: “at least he’s a leader … I think our country does plenty of killing also.” And those in the “alt-right” movement see Putin as a symbol of white nationalist values. News of how Russia used hacking to manipulate voting behavior has only increased Republican approval of Putin in polls. His net favorable rating among Republicans has jumped from minus-66 to minus-10 in little more than two years, while Barack Obama’s festers at minus-64.

What’s even more disturbing is Trump’s dismissal of the U.S. intelligence community’s conclusion that Russia not only meddled in the election, but actively sought his victory—and then celebrated it. Trump’s reaction has been to mock and misrepresent their findings, while blaming the victims for being hacked. His aides scoff at the implication that he’s too pro-Putin: “He is going to modernize our nuclear capability, he’s going to call for an increase in defense budget, he’s going to have oil and gas exploration—all which goes against Russia’s economic and military interests,” Trump’s senior adviser Kellyanne Conway recently noted. But these moves are not all that provocative if Trump and Putin have overlapping foreign policy goals. Moreover, Trump himself has had every opportunity to clear up any misconceptions, and he hasn’t done it. American presidents have had warm relationships with Russian leaders in the past—Reagan and Gorby, Clinton and Yeltsin—but this feels different.

***

Before America in “Amerika” is fully occupied, we see Milford in 1988 make a final desperate pitch to the country: “No, we’re not all in prison camps. We’re not all beaten down by an occupying army with tanks on every corner. But we don’t need troops to tell us we’ve lost our vision. We don’t need Soviet advisors to prove that we’ve lost our national purpose. Americans have allowed themselves to become immobilized by their own selfish concerns. Immobilized by a lack of understanding of the freedoms secured by our forefathers into which most of us were born, and now have lost.” Today we see immobilization as well, from those plaintively wailing on Facebook that Russia has executed something akin to a coup, but feeling powerless as to what to do about it.

“Amerika” did not foresee that Russia’s entry into America politics would be greased by a bombastic right-wing populist billionaire. The fictional president is a mild-mannered, self-described “figurehead.” But he is not without insight, telling Bradford, “Totalitarianism doesn’t need armies. It only needs to control a couple of things: the media, and the ability to dispense privilege to some, and withhold it from others. And of course, a weak and divided people helps.”

The seeds of that dark future are already in the soil. Russia executed a subtle control of the media—weaponizing mainstream institutions through releases of stolen emails and flooding social media with fake news. Fox News is airing uncritical interviews with Julian Assange of WikiLeaks, an organization U.S. officials have linked to Russian intelligence. And the American people are not only deeply divided along geographic and cultural lines, but new research shows them to be increasingly dubious about the importance of democracy.

“If the dream of democracy cannot survive in America, it cannot survive the 20th century,” Milford declared in his announcement address. Denisov, studying videotape of the speech, notices his normally apolitical American girlfriend transfixed. “He’s touched you,” he purrs to her, his expression both intrigued and disturbed. Part of Putin’s agenda is to convince Americans not to be touched, but instead, to believe that our democratic institutions can no longer be trusted. Our challenge, in the face of Russian interference, is to remind ourselves that despite the deep ideological and cultural differences that are testing American unity, the unifying principle of America remains.

Thirty years ago, a bloated, overwrought TV miniseries tried to make that point and missed the mark. We didn’t need to fear the gulag then, and we don’t now. Hysterical prophesizing of totalitarianism can also be counterproductive, making it easier to shrug off quieter erosions of democracy. But no matter how imperfect, “Amerika” was more prescient than its creators ever could have expected, reminding us that we can only can lose what makes America great if we surrender it ourselves.