#azadi blue

[azadiblue]

book me • send me sugar: @/$ pulihara

[leiabine]

honestly, a lot of what has happened to arindha makes sense as to why she has become the way she is, especially the way she was influenced by imperial elites.. so much has been taken from her, and she’s angry.

from what we see, ryder azadi tries to run her company out of lothal so he can take over, her mother is arrested in the process, the whole moff gauhdi thing which would probably turn this post into a novel of my own, juahir betraying her, that other guy who’s name i forget betraying her, the list goes on..

unfortunately, we do not see what happens to her when she is not appearing in the book, and i think whatever happened in between everything was also a major part of the change in pryce’s demeanor.

that’s my my only bone to pick with the thrawn triology. it always feels like something is missing.

anyways, she is heavily corrupted by the empire. she dies BRUTALLY for the empire that never would have done the same for her and wouldn’t even so much as think about it. honestly, i think her story is slightly tragic.

someone get her brown contacts im literally shaking

[thefirelookout]

Dead silence

This post is an attempt to share or let out some of my complex feelings about the situation in Bangladesh.

We went to our city's protest yesterday. It was a silent, peaceful protest. The Bangladeshi student community here in Kingston stood in a human chain with placards. "Save Bangladesh student", yes grammatically wrong, yes, it assumes that young revolutionaries need saving, so on and so forth. The protest started and ended quietly. My non-Bangladeshi friends were a bit confused, since they're used to chanty protests for Palestine, or union picket lines with cars passing by, honking in support. There was more noise even for the Iranian protests, Zan Zendegi Azadi. The silence of a graveyard in this one, though.

Who cares about little old Bangladesh? I sometimes wonder. We're not in the eye of the middle eastern storm like Syria, Lebanon or Palestine are. We're not strategically important, we don't even have many natural resources like Sudan or Congo do. The Prime Minister visited China recently to ask for an aid or a loan, and came back pretty much empty handed. China isn't very interested in us. India has gotten what it needed to get, and can milk more out of us, but they can do the same with Nepal or Bhutan too. We're never in the headlines, the US or the West in general isn't interested in us at all. And Pakistan denies that the 1971 genocide ever happened.

Which is why, the world isn't missing our voices due to the internet blackout.

The voices were all over my Facebook newsfeed. Aunties and apus on Facebook live selling sarees, jewelry, crafts, elderly boomers sharing gardening tips, quick fixes or herbal remedies that they swear by, people sharing posts about cricket or which cricketer's wife wore what, food bloggers calling every possible dish juicy (be it a burger or the meat in biriyani), celebrity drama, political drama to the extent of what was allowed back home. That sort of thing.

Now, again, there's the silence of a graveyard over here. And I feel like screaming till I snap my vocal cords. Can you all please come back? Please? The silence is unbearable! Please! I won't judge you if you sell your wares! Please! I won't judge if you think turmeric water can act as a miracle detox! Please, please I won't say a word if your post about your stupid cricket match! Just something, please say something! I haven't seen a single one of you online. Please don't die, please stay safe. When the internet comes back, please, post about your vacations and your pets. Not the dead, please, don't post about the bodies. I can take a bit of silence but not more bodies please!

Speaking of bodies. There was an armoured vehicle, painted navy blue in the colours of the police (fuck them). And there was a body on top of it. Dead, obviously, very dead, because it flopped down with the slightest nudge, and was left on the streets. Before that happened, the vehicle drove about as if parading its spoils of war, with the body on top. Sending a message. This will happen to you if you raise your voice.

That image has been haunting me for two nights now. So yeah, I'm not man enough to get some incisive political analysis out. I have no either or predictions for what happens if the regime falls or doesn't fall. My body feels numb, I've been binge eating because I still have food in the house and I won't be gunned down if I go out to get groceries now. My non-Bangladeshi friends, bless their first world hearts, have never had to live under fascism. Bless their hearts, have never had to stifle their voices to the extent that we've had to. Bless their beautiful hearts, could hardly pronounce Bangladesh. But they still showed up to that docile little protest because they care about my spouse and I. I can't even begin to thank them.

My insides are tearing up. I'm sitting with a poker face typing all this word vomit, but my insides are nothing but a scream. No clever realpolitik comes out of a heart that's screaming, because our mouths are sewn shut.

[kanerallels]

Trick or treat 💜

*cracks knuckles* Let's see if I can do this justice

If Hera had thought being without Kanan was hard before, it was nothing compared to now after she had Jacen.

She’d been granted maternity leave (a very tired looking Princess Organa told her to take as long as she needed), and was spending it on Lothal. Governor Azadi had appointed a specific landing platform for the Ghost, and that was where Hera stayed. She couldn’t quite bring herself to visit the comm tower where Ezra had lived, not yet.

Often, she wasn’t alone. Zeb would be there as often as he could, as would Sabine. But they had their own responsibilities, and Hera wasn’t about to divert anything from the Rebellion. Her father had visited a few times, but it was hard for him to get off of Ryloth.

So more often than not, it was just her, Chopper, and Jacen. And while she was so, so grateful for the gift that was her son…it was hard.

He cried. A lot. Hera sometimes wondered if he somehow remembered the trauma she’d gone through while carrying him, if the pain of that and losing his father was still inside him. But more likely, he was just a baby, who cried when hungry or cold or pretty much whenever he needed anything. She vaguely recalled her little brother crying, too, before they’d lost him.

It had been months since she last had a full night’s sleep. If Jacen’s cries didn’t wake her—and they usually did—dreams of fire and blue-green eyes did. She was tired, and trying so desperately to take care of her son. But Hera felt like she was one step away from falling apart.

She couldn’t, though. She didn’t have a choice. She had to hold it together for Jacen.

As it turned out, it relaxed Jacen to be held, especially when she was moving. So Hera started spending a lot of time walking, with him cradled in her arms or strapped in a sling to her chest. She started exploring the streets of Lothal when she wasn’t helping Ryder with the relief work, pacing the lengths of them time after time. Often, she’d pass places she recognized—Old Jho’s, the bombed out shell of the Bridgers house. Or other times, she’d see a piece of graffiti by Sabine, and wonder when she was here. If it was recent or long ago, back when life made sense.

One day, she was walking through a tangle of neighborhoods, most of the houses burned away. Sabine had recently commed, saying that she was coming back to Lothal. She hadn’t said why, but the heaviness in her voice said it all. Her and Ahsoka’s search for Ezra was still fruitless, and Hera’s heart twisted at the thought. At the fear that he might actually be gone for good.

She tried to hide the fear and sadness she felt, but Jacen seemed to be picking up on it anyway, because he simply would not stop crying. No matter how much she rocked him, humming one of the songs that soothed him the most, he wailed steadily on.

“Come on, sweetheart,” she whispered to him, bouncing him up and down lightly. “It’s okay. It’s all going to be okay.”

“Excuse me.”

A gentle voice cut through Hera’s spinning thoughts, and she looked up—meeting a pair of blue-green eyes. For a moment, she was paralyzed, and then she registered the sight of an elderly woman, silver hair pulled back from her face, which wore a warm but concerned expression.

“Can I help you?” she asked. “Please.”

Any other time, Hera would have demurred, would have told her she had it handled. But the combination of exhaustion and Jacen’s cries and the startlingly familiar eyes somehow overtook her brain, and before she knew it she was handing her son over to the woman, who introduced herself as Devorah.

To her shock, Jacen quieted quickly as the woman sang gently in a language Hera didn’t recognize, staring up at her with wide blue eyes. Apparently, many human children started out with blue eyes. Hera harbored a secret hope that Jacen’s eyes would change to look like his father’s.

“What a precious boy,” Devorah murmured. Giving Hera a sympathetic look, she said, “You look exhausted, General. Haven’t you been sleeping?”

“Not as much as I want to,” Hera admitted. “But—how did you know—”

“I’ve seen you around the refugee camps,” Devorah explained. “Everyone’s quite impressed with how much you’ve been doing, particularly with a newborn baby. But I know how hard raising a new baby can be.” Pausing, she said, “I take it his father is—”

“Gone,” Hera said, hating the ache in her throat and the sting in her eyes. “He—he died to save us.”

Devorah’s expression softened. “Then your little boy has two heroes as parents. But I have a feeling that’s little comfort.”

“You could say that,” Hera agreed.

“Hmm. I lost my husband to the Empire,” Devorah told her. “He was brave, too, but…it doesn’t prevent us from missing them.”

Hera suddenly found the tears in her eyes spilling forth. “No,” she whispered. “It doesn’t.”

And to her profound relief, Devorah didn’t hesitate before pulling her into a hug.

After that, she saw quite a bit more of Devorah. The refugee camps housed those who were displaced after Thrawn’s orbital bombardment, and Hera had been working there as much as possible to help. Now that she’d met her, Devorah seemed everywhere at once—cooking, helping put up tents, cheering up children and encouraging parents and singing, always singing.

(it reminded Hera, as too much did, of Kanan. How he’d told her once that the only memory he had of his life before the Jedi Order was of a voice, singing to him, and after that Hera had made a point to let him catch her singing as much as possible.)

The camps were overcrowded, and work to get people their homes back was slow. A lot of people were sharing tents, and some didn’t have one to begin with. When Hera realized that Devorah was one of those—she’d given hers up to a pair of children, whose parents had died in the bombings—she’d immediately, impulsively, offered to let Devorah use one of the spare rooms on the Ghost.

(there was only one real spare room. Hera almost never went in there, not anymore. But somehow, it felt right to let Devorah use it.)

Having someone else around all the time brought a little light to Hera’s life. And it helped a lot to have someone look after Jacen so she could catch a little extra sleep every now and then.

It helped that Jacen loved Devorah. He’d light up when she was around, babbling to her, and she’d listen and laugh like he was actually talking. “He’s such a sweet boy,” she told Hera one day. “He reminds me of my son at his age.”

“You had a son?” Hera asked, not quite surprised, and Devorah nodded.

“And a daughter. She left to fight the Empire, although I hear from her pretty often. And my son…” Devorah’s usually cheerful face fell, an old sadness in her eyes. “He’s gone, too. For longer, I’m afraid.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Hera said slowly, and Devorah glanced at her.

“It’s quite alright. He didn’t die, exactly, although I’d say it’s not impossible he’s gone at this point. He was a Jedi.”

The word went through Hera’s heart like a knife, and for a moment she couldn’t breathe. “A Jedi?” she managed finally.

Nodding, Devorah said, “Yes. I was sad to let him go but, oh, how proud. We knew he’d change the galaxy someday. I was sure of it. Our family never bought into the Empire’s lies about the Jedi, and I always wondered if he’d made it.”

“What was his name?” Hera managed, and she knew. She just knew, before Devorah spoke with a gentle, wistful smile on her face.

“Caleb,” she said. “Caleb Dume.”

[jedi-nurse]

Hello!

I haven’t seen

You'll Always Find Your Way Back Home

For the WIP Ask Game yet! Will you tell me about that one please? 😁

Hehehehehe first off yes the title is from the Hannah Montana song.

So this is essentially a fic about Ezra somehow getting back to Lothal via the WBW. He gets back right as Ahsoka is arriving on Lothal with the map. There is a nice scene I have written where Sabine just yells at Ahsoka for abandoning her and Ezra has to pull her away.

BUT here is my personal favorite scene

Sighing, she turned around just in time to see her loth-cat knock another cup to the floor, shattering in the process. “Dank ferrick Murley, would you please stop? My cup budget isn’t unlimited, you little shit”. He just looked at her before hopping down to go lay down somewhere. The shattering of the cup took her attention away from the proximity alert that sounded from one of the terminals in the old comm tower.  As she was sweeping up the broken mug she heard a knock on the door, which was extremely odd considering she didn’t hear the usual alarm. She figured it was one of the new government interns Ryder sent out to check on her.  “You can tell Governor Azadi that he can shove it. I told him to stop wasting everyone’s time” she yelled through the door as she keyed it open. What she wasn’t expecting to see on her doorstep was Ezra Bridger. She stared in stunned silence at the man standing before her. He was unmistakably Ezra, his blue eyes sparkling at her. “Hey Sabine, long time no see” he joked, hoping she would laugh. Instead she punched him right in the nose and shut the door. Honestly, that was kind of the reaction he had expected. What he hadn’t expected was her long colorful hair and clothes that looked suspiciously like something he would wear. Of course she was just as, if not more, beautiful as the day he last saw her.

[illuminatedquill]

Sabine Wren & Ezra Bridger

Hands, Ready To Bleed

Story Summary: Adjusting to living together on Lothal, Sabine and Ezra are finally moving forward with their lives - and their new relationship - during this hard-won era of peace. However, the annual memorial to commemorate the Battle of Lothal approaches, leading to the revelation of a secret that Ezra has long been hiding from Sabine.

"It's just a rehearsal," Sabine Wren said soothingly to her long-time partner, Ezra Bridger. "Nothing to worry about."

The rehearsal was on the main tower of Capital City, held on the platform where the Wall of Heroes was located. Overhead, the skies were a dazzling blue with only small wisps of clouds overhead to pass by. Below, the streets of Capital City were buzzing with life and business, but a few small groups of onlookers were watching the rehearsal for the annual memorial to commemorate the Battle of Lothal with interest.

And for good reason; Ezra Bridger, the legendary hero and Jedi who saved the planet - and defeated Thrawn, twice, a new recent achievement to further add to his renown - was finally attending. It stood to reason that the crowds this year were going to be enormous, people flocking to the city just for a glimpse of their hero.

Ezra smoothed down the front of his outfit for the umpteenth time; through the Force, she could sense his nervousness, coming through in spikes of tense energy. Sabine had opted to dress in casual clothes for the rehearsal; flight jacket, red tunic, combat pants and boots. Ezra was wearing an what Sabine liked to call 'rogues' attire; a dashing scarlet tunic, midnight blue vest, striped military pants, and thigh-high boots that were shined to perfection.

"If you say so," he said with false cheer. He flashed a smile at her, but it didn't reach his eyes. The normally bright, piercing blue eyes of Ezra Bridger were clouded over with worry . . . and something else.

Something darker.

Sabine frowned and probed the edges of Ezra's mind, seeking the truth behind his false cheer -

"Sabine! There you are." It was Governor Azadi, an old friend. He waded through the crowd, resplendent in his politician's attire complete with a dashing cape. "Need you for a moment."

Sabine cast a worried glance at Ezra. "Ezra, if you're not feeling up to this - "

He shook his head. "I'm alright."

Ezra stared ahead at the crowd surrounding them. "I have to be," he muttered.

Sabine reached out and gave Ezra's hand a reassuring squeeze. He squeezed it back and nodded at her. "I'll be right back, okay?" she said.

Azadi led Sabine away and then discreetly nodded towards a corner of the platform. She stole a glance in the direction -

And let out a curse. It was Senator Xiono, idling by himself with a half-empty flute of wine in one hand; he was dressed impeccably, as always, but there was a sleepless look to his face - and there was no mistaking the cold, hard rage radiating from his eyes.

He was staring at Ezra.

Sabine turned to Azadi. "What's he doing here?" she hissed at him.

Azadi held up his hands in a placating gesture, a grimace on his weathered face. "He wasn't invited, I assure you. I just wanted to give you a heads up."

Xiono had long been a pain in the Senate Oversight Committee towards the fledgling New Jedi Order and their allies but that had been exacerbated since Thrawn's re-emergence and subsequent campaign to revive the Empire. Xiono's world had been brutally bombarded by Thrawn's fleets; rumor had it that his wife was still recovering in intensive care, and that his only child, a son named Kaz, had barely escaped, as well.

He had long been suspicious of Ezra's sudden reappearance coinciding with Thrawn's, but the details of his time stranded on Peridea were still kept a secret. Xiono, however, had only amped up his scrutiny of Ezra since Thrawn's defeat; it was clear that he had a personal vendetta against Ezra, whom he believed had abandoned his duty as a Jedi in letting Thrawn live.

"Ryder, he's going to start trouble with Ezra," Sabine warned. "He needs to be kicked out."

Azadi sighed. "I can't just kick out a Senator, Sabine. Look, I've got Jai Kell baby-sitting him for the moment. I'll run interference, too. You and Ezra just do your speeches and then you can high-tail it out of here."

Sabine pursed her lips, thinking of Ezra's unusual mood. She watched Senator Jai Kell talking animatedly with Senator Xiono; the latter was barely responding to the conversation, his eyes still trained on Ezra.

She came to a decision. "Let me talk to Ezra, see what he thinks."

Azadi nodded. "Very well."

Sabine walked back to her partner. "Ezra, Senator Xiono is here."

He was looking at his note-cards, reading over his speech. "What?"

"Look," said Sabine. "If you want to go, no one will blame you, okay? It won't be the first ceremony you missed."

Ezra considered that for a moment. Then he said, "No, I need to do this. The city's been waiting for me. I can't let them down."

His face was composed, but through the Force his thoughts and feelings were all over the place. Sabine grabbed his arm.

"Ezra," she pleaded. "I know you're not feeling up to this. I can sense it."

He shook his arm free. "It doesn't matter what I feel," he responded flatly. "This is what's expected of me."

Azadi called to them. "Ezra! Sabine! It's time to make your speeches."

Sabine and Ezra exchanged a long look. Finally, he shook his head and offered another one of those fake smiles she hated so much and offered his arm to her.

With reluctance, Sabine slid her own through his and they walked up to the stage together.

When the rehearsal finished, they stepped down from the stage; Sabine stayed close to Ezra, keeping an eye on him.

Amazingly, he had done well; his speech had generated quite the applause, with equal parts humor and heart-felt gratitude. However, she could feel that ominous darkness still swirling through her partner's emotions: fear and anxiety blending together and spiking like adrenaline when the fireworks went off at the end.

She watched him close his eyes tight at the blasts. All Sabine could do was just hold his hand with all the strength she could muster.

But he had made it through and she could finally breath a sigh of relief -

A tremor through the Force. Danger, close by -

Sabine moved to place herself in front of Ezra but it was too late. Wine splashed into Ezra's face, thrown from a flute in anger. The crowd gasped.

Senator Xiono stood there, flute empty, his eyes sparkling with glee and malice.

Sabine knocked the flute out of his hands. "I think you've had too much to drink, Xiono," she said coldly.

Azadi came up behind the Senator and grabbed his arm. Two security guards flanked him. "Come with me, Senator," he said. "Let's not make a scene here."

Senator Xiono shrugged free of Azadi's grasp and stepped closer to Sabine and Ezra. "Ten years," he hissed. "You were on that Force-forsaken planet with him for ten years. And you did nothing."

From behind her, Sabine could sense the anxiety spike within Ezra. That ominous cloud of darkness swirling within him began to grow like a thunderhead.

"Traitor!" Senator Xiono bellowed. "My world - my family - bombed to rubble because you abandoned your duty! What use is that power you wield if it's not used to protect the people who need it? The people who are depending on you?"

Sabine shoved him backwards. "That's enough!" she shouted. "Ryder, get him out of here!"

"Guards!" barked Azadi. "Take the Senator away - "

Pain like she had never felt before cleaved into Sabine's head like an ice pick; grief, despair, guilt were forged into the tip. She doubled over, gasping for breath; her heart felt like it was beating a million miles per minute.

Through the corner of her eye, she saw others do the same: crying out in pain, clutching their heads. She heard Azadi yelling something, but couldn't make it out through the howl erupting inside her skull.

It was coming from behind her, she realized.

It's coming from Ezra.

Gritting her teeth, summoning her reserves of energy, she began the daunting task of putting up the mental shields Ahsoka, her master, had taught to protect herself from a psychic attack like this. It was agonizing minutes but, finally, she was shielded enough to stand up and face Ezra.

He was standing still upright, unlike the others; his hands were clutching at his temples. His eyes were shaking, unfocused; Sabine could hear him struggling to regulate his breath, coming in fast, harsh gasps.

In her head, she could hear his thoughts echoing a single word over and over again like a mantra: Starbird.

Starbird. Starbird. Starbird.

Ezra was having a panic attack. His feelings were leaking through the Force and into the surroundings - and the people, also.

Oh, Ezra. Oh, my love.

She staggered towards him and reached trembling hands to his face. "Ezra?" she asked. "Ezra, it's me. It's Sabine. Can you hear me?"

He couldn't see her; his eyes remained unfocused. All around her, the people in attendance were screaming, crying out.

"Ezra! It's Sabine. Please, just focus on me, okay? I'm here. You're safe, it's okay!"

At last, her words broke through. His eyes, still shaking, began to focus on her. "Sabine? S-Sabine? I - I c-can't stop, I'm s-so sorry."

Starbird. Starbird. Starbird.

She took one of his hands and placed it on her heart. "Just breathe, okay? It's okay, just breathe like this." And she breathed, slow and deep, in tune with her heart.

Someone screamed. Ezra's concentration broke, his breathing worsening -

No! Sabine grabbed his face and forced it towards her, pouring all the feelings of calm and peace and love she could muster through their bond in the Force. "Look at my face, Ezra, please. Just focus on me. It's just you and me. Breathe - breathe."

Ezra's breathing began to slow. His eyes began to focus and lose their trembling.

Starbird. Starbird.

"It's okay," she whispered. "It's okay."

"I'm sorry," he whispered back. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

He sagged to the floor in exhaustion. Sabine held him close, making sure he didn't outright collapse.

And, all at once, the pounding in her skull disappeared. The crying and screaming around her disappeared in an instant; the audience members began to rouse themselves to their feet, blinking in confusion at what had just occurred.

From behind her, she heard Azadi groan and look towards them.

"Sabine, what - "

"Later," she said curtly. "Get me a medic, now."

Ahsoka arrived hours later to find Sabine pacing in the hallway outside Ezra's hospital room.

"How is he?" asked her former master.

Sabine just hugged her in response. Ahsoka hugged her back, tightly, and then released her.

"That bad, huh?" she asked.

Sabine let out a shaky laugh. "I've never seen him like that," she said. "It scared me so much."

Ahsoka clapped her on the shoulder. "Panic attacks can be like that. You did well, from what I heard."

Sabine sat down on the hallway's bench. "I should never have let him stay there. I knew something was wrong with him."

Ahsoka considered her for a moment. "Has Ezra ever shown signs of this before?"

Sabine cocked her head, thinking. "No, not that I can think of. But we haven't been to the city much since we got back."

Her master raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Just holing up in that watchtower of yours?"

Sabine avoided Ahsoka's knowing gaze, feeling her cheeks begin to heat up. "Yeah, you know . . . just resting. Relaxing."

"Hmmm," said Ahsoka. "Not resting too much, I hope. Keeping up with your training?"

"Of course," replied Sabine innocently. "Ezra and I have a sparring session every day."

Ahsoka peered at her. "Oh, I'm sure you two have plenty of physical activities to keep busy. I'm just not sure it's sparring."

Sabine shrugged. "We're getting a good work-out, regardless."

Ahsoka snorted. "Oh, I have missed you, my Padawan."

Sabine grinned at her, before sobering. "Thanks, by the way."

"For what?"

"For taking my mind off this," Sabine said. "I feel much better now."

Ahsoka smiled in reply. Sabine patted the seat next to her, and her master sat down.

After a while, Sabine quietly said, "He's hiding something from me. When he was having his episode, I could hear his thoughts. A single word, repeated over and over again."

"What word?" asked Ahsoka.

Sabine looked at her master. "Starbird."

The older Jedi was silent for a moment. Then she said, "Do you remember all the starbirds we found painted on Peridea?"

"Yeah. There was a ton of them, if I recall. Ezra painted them everywhere."

"It's your personal symbol, Sabine. Do you know why he painted so many?"

She thought about it for a second. "No. No, I don't."

Ahsoka turned to look at her. "Has Ezra ever told you about his time on Peridea?"

Sabine shook her head. "I didn't want to push."

Ahsoka sighed. "I think it's time you both had that talk, then."

Sabine asked, "Did he tell you about it?"

"Some of it."

"Oh," was all Sabine said. "He didn't tell me, though."

"Why do you think that is, Sabine?" asked her master.

"I don't know," replied Sabine, frustrated. "I'm his partner. I love him. We're not supposed to keep secrets from each other."

"Have you told him everything about your life experiences while he was stranded on Peridea?"

Sabine blinked. "Well . . . no. That's not important."

"Was it easy for you?"

Sabine looked down at her hands. "You know it wasn't."

"But you never talked to him about it."

Sabine crossed her arms. "It . . . it never came up."

Ahsoka gazed at her and said softly, "How can you expect Ezra to be open about his hardships if you do not do the same?"

"He never asked," Sabine shot back. "And even if he did, I don't want him to know about all of it."

"Why not?" asked Ahsoka.

"Because - because it would make him feel bad. I don't want him to feel that way, especially because of me; it's clear he's got enough on his plate, as it is."

Ahsoka laughed. "What's so funny?" asked Sabine suspiciously.

She shook her head, shoulders shaking from the mirth. "You two really are quite the pair," she said, eyes sparkling.

Realization dawned in Sabine. "You think he feels the same way," she said.

"I know he does," responded Ahsoka seriously. "He would do anything for you. Just like you would for him."

She looked at her directly. "Including hiding away the pain you feel from each other. Because you would rather suffer alone, instead of - from your point of view - forcing each other to bear that additional pain."

Sabine huffed out a breath and leaned back against the wall. "Great. So we have to talk."

She grimaced. "I'm not good at that. He's hurting, I can tell. How do I get him to open up?"

Ahsoka arched an eyebrow. "How do you get someone to show their scars?"

Sabine nodded.

Her master smiled and said, "By showing yours."

Ahsoka spoke with Ezra for a few minutes, promising to show him special Force techniques to help ward off future panic attacks when he felt better before departing with a nod to Sabine.

The ride home was quiet. Sabine kept sneaking glances at her partner, but Ezra's face didn't betray anything except for exhaustion after his ordeal.

Once inside the watchtower, Ezra flopped onto the couch and leaned his head back, eyes closed.

Sabine busied herself with making drinks: two mugs of hot chocolate, their favorite.

Okay. Time to be brave. For Ezra.

She brought them over and offered one to him before sitting down. Ezra mumbled a thanks and took a sip.

Sabine watched him carefully, fingers tapping on her mug.

"Was anyone hurt?" he asked wearily.

Other than you? she wanted to ask. Instead, she replied, "Nothing serious. Some bumps and scrapes."

Ezra nodded. She reached out and touched his shoulder.

He flinched away from her touch. Sabine set down her mug, braced herself, and gently reached to her partner's face, turning it towards her.

Ezra was crying; tears streamed down his cheeks, glistening in the watchtower's lighting.

She felt her heart twist with grief at the sight. Forcing a steady calm into her voice that Sabine did not feel, she asked, "What's wrong, Ezra? Tell me what's wrong."

He shook his head miserably.

Show him your scars.

Sighing, Sabine stood up and began to take off her shirt.

Ezra's eyes popped open in an almost comical fashion. "Sabine - what are you doing?" he asked.

Blushing furiously, she just said, "Hush. I'm doing a thing. We're going to talk about this."

"Sabine, you drive me mad with desire, but if this is an attempt to cheer me up, then I'm not really in the mood."

The shirt came free and she tossed it onto the floor, her modesty only covered by the sports bra underneath her shirt. Ezra inhaled sharply, taking her in.

Sabine sat back down, grabbed Ezra's hand before he could protest, and placed it over the scar on her abdomen. The one she had gotten from her ill-fated first duel with Shin from what felt like a lifetime ago.

His look became questioning. "Your scar. The one you never talk about."

Grimacing, Sabine said, "Yeah. I'm changing that now. You have questions, ask them."

Ezra blinked at her. "Okay, then - obvious first: where'd you get this from? I always assumed it was during the war."

"It wasn't from the war against the Empire. I received this before I came to get you on Peridea. I had the map to find you; Shin - you remember her - came to take it from me, on orders from her master, Baylon."

Sabine closed her eyes, remembering the events of that night. The giddy elation from finally finding the way to Ezra. The sudden attack from the assassin droids. Shin, cloaked and menacing, advancing on her with a scarlet blade.

"We fought. I lost," she whispered bitterly.

She felt the heavy gaze from Ezra settling on her. "Shin stabbed you," he said softly.

Sabine opened her eyes and looked directly at Ezra. "She didn't just stab me, Ezra. She killed me. I died that night."

"What? But - you're here. You can't have died."

Sabine smiled a little. "Well, yeah, goober. Ahsoka saved me. But I was clinically dead when she arrived."

She shivered, remembering the sensation of dying. "Do you know what it's like to be stabbed by a lightsaber, Ezra?"

"No," he replied.

"The blade is made from pure plasma," Sabine continued. "It's agony at first; a burning like you've never felt before. Like a small sun blooming inside of you. And then - nothing. Because the lightsaber cauterizes the wound."

She placed her hand over Ezra's, still covering her scar. "You can't repair a lightsaber wound. They filled it up with synthetic tissue, but I don't feel anything there anymore. Not even through the Force."

Ezra just looked at her, his eyes unreadable. "There's an emptiness I carry around with me, everyday. It will never go away. All because I got careless," Sabine finished.

"Sabine . . ."

"Do you know what the worst part of it was, Ezra? It wasn't the pain or the dying; it was the guilt. It was the remorse and the feeling that I had failed you. That I wouldn't be able to fulfill my promise in bringing you home."

After a long moment, Ezra asked, "Why didn't you tell me?"

Sabine drew in a shaky breath. "Because I didn't want to scare you away."

Ezra's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Scare me away?"

"The years without you . . it was rough, okay? You know about some of it. But not everything. I felt that if you saw how messed up I was - I thought you would be disappointed. That I wasn't the Sabine you knew and loved anymore."

Sabine searched Ezra's face for a sign or hint of what he was feeling, but he betrayed nothing.

"Ezra," she said quietly. "Say something. Please."

He let out a breath. "Okay. I guess we're doing this then."

Ezra held up a finger. "First - I would never think that about you, do you understand? Nothing you do would ever change my feelings, Sabine."

Sabine blinked back tears. "Okay."

"Good," he said firmly. "So . . . ask away. Your turn now."

"Starbird," she said at once. "What was that?"

Ezra winced. "Oh, you heard that."

"Hard not to, considering it was being screamed in my head," she replied. "It's my symbol. What does it mean?"

Ezra looked away from her, eyes focused on the ceiling. "Ahsoka talked to you about my time on Peridea?"

"She only mentioned that you spoke about some of it to her," said Sabine, a hint of accusation in her tone. "But you didn't say anything about it to me, your partner. Why?"

"For the same reason you didn't tell me about the origin of your scar," Ezra replied tersely.

Sabine was surprised. "What aren't you telling me, Ezra? You spent all that time hiding from Thrawn, it's nothing to be ashamed about - "

"I wasn't just hiding from Thrawn!" Ezra shouted. "I was working with him!"

Silence hung thickly in the watchtower after that outburst. Sabine stared, in shock.

"You - what? Why?"

Ezra still kept his eyes locked on the ceiling. When he spoke, it was in a small voice, barely more than whisper. "Because I wanted to go home."

He snorted. "Senator Xiono was right. I am a traitor."

Reflexively, Sabine reached out to grab his hand. He didn't yank it away this time; a reassuring sign. "That's not true. I know it isn't."

Ezra finally turned to look at her, his eyes sorrowful. "Isn't it?" he asked. "I collaborated with a known enemy of the New Republic."

"Tell me," Sabine urged. "Tell me everything. I know it's hard, but I need you to be brave for me. Please."

Ezra's eyes widened, his reaction through the Force buzzing with shock and recognition at what she just said. Sabine didn't know why, but her statement had affected him badly on some fundamental level.

Ezra stared at her for what felt like an endless stretch of seconds. Then he closed his eyes and began to speak, each word carefully uttered, as though he were afraid it would break something vital in him . . . or maybe her.

"He came for me, Sabine. Thrawn came for me, in the dead of night. I thought, "This is it. This is how I die.'"

A twisted smile came on his face. "It was so much worse. Dying would have been preferable."

Sabine felt her stomach twist at Ezra's words, but she forced herself to stay still and just listen.

"He knew my weakness. I was cut off, far, far away from home. It's easy to be brave when you have people to be brave for, did you know? I had you, Hera, Zeb, Chopper, and Kanan. All of you propped me up. Gave me purpose. Gave me courage."

"But that was gone now. I survived . . . and so did he. We were trapped, together. And we had nothing but time."

Ezra's voice was soft, toneless, completely empty of humanity. It was awful to hear him talk like that. She never wanted to hear Ezra speak like that ever again.

"I was alone. Alone again. And he offered me a choice: a partnership, to help each other go home. He needed me, and I needed him."

"The Great Mothers," Sabine whispered. "The witches."

Ezra nodded. "He needed a Force user to wake them up. We wake them up, force an alliance, and they get us a connection back in our home galaxy."

"Morgan Elsbeth." The witch who had been a close associate of Thrawn's and single-handedly orchestrated his return.

"I refused him, at first. So much had been sacrificed to ensure that he could never threaten the Rebellion ever again. It was my duty, as a Jedi. That was the choice I made when I left, and I wanted to stick by it until the end. I told him to just shoot me instead."

Ezra went quiet. Sabine, swallowing hard, asked, "What did he do?"

"He did as I asked. He shot me. Oh, not enough to kill me. But enough to hurt. And then he did something strange."

Sabine felt like she was going to be sick. "Strange?" she asked, almost not recognizing her voice; it sounded so weak, so raspy.

He nodded. "Strange. I thought so at first. He healed me. Ordered his men to take me to the med bay. Stuck me in a bacta tank. When I was all fixed, they brought me back to him."

No. Oh, no. She'd heard stories of Imperial interrogations; the torture. Sabine knew where this was heading.

Cold fury seeped into her heart; if if weren't for Thrawn already being dead, she would have flown out right then and there to do the deed herself.

"He asked me again to work with him. I said no. He shot me again. His men took me to the med bay. I healed. And then they brought me to him, again. Rinse and repeat."

"How long?" she asked.

Ezra cocked his head, thinking. "A week, I think. I lost track of the time."

He shrugged. "I accepted his offer. We woke up the Great Mothers."

"Ezra . . ." Sabine was at a loss for words.

"I'm not done, yet," he interrupted. "There's more."

She opened her mouth and then shut it quickly.

"There was a moment, you see. The Great Mothers were, shall we say, grumpy after being awoken from their long nap. They attacked us; used their magicks to turn Thrawn's men against each other. It was a bloodbath. I found myself fighting back to back with the Grand Admiral himself."

"And then they had him. He was going to die, I could see it."

She could feel his anxiety, his panic spiking through the Force. Sabine reached out and grabbed his hand, sending calming, soothing feelings through their bond.

Ezra's breathing, which had been growing labored, began to smooth out. He looked at her and said, "Thanks."

She didn't say anything, not trusting her voice to come out steady.

"What did you do?" Sabine asked, after taking a moment to compose herself.

Ezra smiled bitterly. "I saved his life. The Jedi in me refused to let him die. Even after all that he did."

His eyes were haunted as he continued: "And you want to know how he repaid me? He hunted me down. After saving his life, calming the witches - turns out they wanted to leave Peridea as much as we did. He didn't need me anymore."

"I ran, Sabine. I ran so fast, so far. If the Noti hadn't found me, I would have died from the injuries. That would have been it."

Sabine became conscious that her grip on Ezra's hand was tightening into a vise. She loosened it.

"He took everything from me. My bravery, my belief in my purpose as a Jedi. My family. I had nothing left. Thrawn exposed me for what I really was; just a dumb, scared kid who was in way over his head."

"That's not true." Sabine's voice was heated, saying the words. "You did more than anyone else had accomplished in the Rebellion. You saved everyone on Lothal. You gave us hope!"

Ezra just looked at her, a lop-sided smile appearing on his face. "Gave you all too much hope. Should have saved some for myself."

"You kept fighting, though. You survived the worst of what he had to offer."

"I only made it through because of you, Sabine. Because you told me to keep fighting."

Sabine frowned at him, confused. "I wasn't there though?"

Ezra's smile this time was serene. "You're always with me. Wherever I am."

He pointed at one of the patches on her jacket; the patch with her customized symbol, the one she always wore.

The starbird. Starbird.

Starbird.

"The painted starbirds," realized Sabine. "All over Peridea."

Ezra nodded. "A reminder to myself. You - Sabine Wren - have always been the symbol of victory to me. The symbol of undaunting perseverance in the face of overwhelming odds. I couldn't draw you, though; I don't have your talent. But I could manage your starbird, at the very least."

Sabine said, "Oh."

"On the bad days, I drew the starbirds whenever I could. Partly to annoy Thrawn, who I knew was still watching out for me. But mostly for myself. If I closed my eyes at night, I could imagine you there, telling me to keep fighting. To be brave."

Tell me everything. I know it's hard, but I need you to be brave for me.

"So, I did. I held on. For as long as I could. But I knew Thrawn was still planning to go home. I had to make up for what I failed to do. I could hear his ships, his men, still moving about. Making preparations."

He was shaking now. Coming to the end of his long, sad tale.

"I couldn't wait anymore. I could at least maybe do some serious damage; delay him a little. I made a promise to you - the you in my head, I mean - that I would still be here when you came to find me, but I - I had to make it right. I had to finish what I started. I had to fight, like you were telling me. To be brave."

"It was a suicide mission. But I had to do it. So, one morning, I made my plan and I exited my hut to say good-bye to the Noti."

He let loose a laugh, half-crazed in its sound. "And then you wouldn't believe what I saw."

"What was it?" asked Sabine quietly.

"You," he said. He was looking right at her, his blue eyes piercing. "I saw you standing there. Like a dream, or a vision."

The day I arrived, Sabine realized.

"I thought I was going crazy. I thought it wasn't real or a vision from the Force. I had to say something, anything, to see if you were really there."

I knew I could count on you.

"And then you turned around and you gave me this smile - and I knew it was really you. You had come to save me. Sabine Wren, you crossed galaxies to save me."

Sabine cupped Ezra's cheek gently. "I made you a promise, Ezra Bridger."

He leaned into her touch. "You did. You kept it. I don't know if I kept mine, though. I don't know how much was left of me to save."

Oh, Ezra. Sabine's heart cracked and cracked, seeing Ezra's despair.

She held out her arms and enveloped him into a hug. It was all she could do; all she could think of, in this moment, to keep the person she loved from breaking any further.

"The Sabine in your head," she said softly. "Is she still telling you to fight? To be brave?"

Ezra nodded.

"Then let me tell her to shut up. You've done enough fighting. You can rest now, Ezra. You can rest."

Ezra let out a muffled laugh. "You might want to speak a little louder. She's pretty stubborn."

"Ezra. Stop talking and let me just hug you."

"Okay."

They called Ahsoka the next morning, to tell her of Ezra's decision.

Ahsoka, via hologram, looked at them both, considering their words. "You're certain?" she asked.

Ezra nodded. "If it's alright with you."

The older Jedi smiled. "Of course it is. Take all the time you need, Ezra. You'll be missed, but we'll manage."

Sabine squeezed his hand affectionately and smiled. "Told you she would understand."

After Ezra's break last night, he and Sabine had discussed what was best for him - and for them - late into the night. Finally, they had both come to the same conclusion.

Ezra needed a break. To take time for himself and figure out what he really wanted. For so long, the war and being a Jedi had taken up much of his life. Thrawn had damaged his image, stripped away all that he held dear.

For now, Ezra just wanted to know what it meant to be Ezra Bridger again. Not the Rebel, not the hero, not the Jedi - just Ezra.

And that meant stepping away from all of it.

"I really appreciate it, Ahsoka. And I'm sorry."

She shook her head. "No apologies from you. You've done more than enough. And believe me, I understand what it means to walk away from the Order. Whatever decision you come to, should you return or not, you have my full support."

Ezra looked at Sabine. "Will you be okay without me?"

Sabine patted his head. "I did just fine without you for ten years, goober."

"You got stabbed by Shin and almost died."

Ahsoka snorted. Sabine glared at him. "It was one time," she muttered. "I almost die one time and suddenly everyone gets so protective."

"I'll be fine, Ezra. Galaxy's in good hands, don't you worry. And Ahsoka will be there; it'll be just like old times. Master and apprentice."

Ahsoka eyed her apprehensively. "I hope it won't be too much like old times. Perhaps you'll be actually listening to what I ask of you?"

Sabine shrugged. "Where's the fun in that? Need to keep things lively in your old age."

Ahsoka sighed. "You will be dearly missed, Ezra," she re-stated.

Ezra laughed. Ahsoka smiled and said, "I'll check on you again later, Ezra. May the Force be with you, until we meet again. In better spirits."

Ezra bowed his head at the older Jedi. "May the Force be with you, too, Ahsoka."

Ahsoka nodded at Sabine in farewell and then cut the call.

Ezra stood up, stretched, and held out his hand to Sabine. "Step outside for some fresh air?"

"Sure." She followed him out to the balcony.

The morning was crisp and clear; a gentle breeze sighed through the tall fields of grass. They both leaned against the railing, gazing out at Capital City, glinting brightly in the rising sun.

"What will you do now?" asked Sabine.

Ezra shrugged, smiling a little. "I don't know. Feels kind of nice, not to know what comes next."

He reached out and held her hand. "Promise me you'll stay? You won't leave?"

Sabine, surprised, asked, "Why would I leave?"

"Because . . . because I'm not who I was anymore. The Ezra you loved; the hero, the Jedi. I don't know where he is."

She turned to face him fully. "Ezra. I don't care if he ever comes back. I'm here with you, whoever you decide that is. I crossed galaxies to be with you; you doing some self-reflection isn't going to scare me away."

Any doubts he had cleared away from his eyes when she spoke. He leaned his head against hers. "Thank you, Sabine."

"Anything for you, Ezra."

They stayed like that for a few minutes before Ezra spoke again.

"I'm thinking of trying modeling, you know? Huyang was mentioning the other day that I had 'impeccable' good looks and I have been getting offers in the mail from some big name companies - "

Sabine punched him in the arm. Ezra laughed, rubbing at the spot.

A call came through on Sabine's com-link. She checked; it was Governor Azadi.

She clicked it on. "Sabine?" he asked.

"I'm here. What's up?"

"Just wanting to know the status of you and Ezra for the ceremony?"

Ezra opened his mouth, but Sabine put a finger up to silence him.

"What's the status of Senator Xiono? He still got an invitation?"

Azadi chuckled. "Nope. I chucked his ass on the nearest freighter and sent Senator Organa a message about the stunt he pulled. I suspect she's tearing him a new one right about now."

"Good," Sabine replied firmly. She looked to Ezra.

"Tell him we'll be there," he said.

Sabine felt her eyebrows raise up in surprise. Ezra just shrugged.

"We'll be there," she said to Azadi.

"Excellent! I'll see you there. Azadi out."

Still looking questioningly at Ezra, she asked, "Are you sure?"

He smiled and said, "I can pretend to be the hero for one more day."

Sabine felt her heart squeeze at the sight of his smile. Already, she could she his old spark returning; signs of life and healing.

You're still you, she thought. You and Thrawn thought it had been beaten out of you. But you're both wrong.

She smiled back at him and turned to head inside the watchtower. "Guess we better get ready for the ceremony, then."

"Hang on a minute, Sabine."

She turned back to him. "What is it?"

"I, uh. I had another question for you. If you don't mind."

There was such an awkward earnestness to his expression. Sabine felt her curiosity rise. "Okay. Shoot."

He rubbed the back of his head. "I've been sitting on this one for a while. Since we were kids."

"Uh-huh. And are you going to ask me sometime this year or . . ."

Ezra huffed out a nervous breath. "Just come over here, please."

She obliged, her curiosity reaching its zenith. "Ezra, what is it?"

He reached into his pocket, pulled out a small jewelry box, and bent down on one knee.

Sabine's mouth went slack, her heart erupting into overdrive.

Ezra took a deep breath and said, "Like I said. Been wanting to ask you this for a while."

She let out a shaky breath. "Since we were kids?"

He grinned sheepishly at her. "Cheesy, yeah, but true."

She cocked her head at him, unable to stop herself from smiling like a lovestruck school girl. "Well, go on then. Ask me."

"Sabine Wren - will you . . . I mean, if you'll have me, if you still want me after all this, then, will you marry me?"

He popped the ring box open; inside were two silver rings, each embedded with sapphire and amethyst gems.

Under other circumstances, Sabine would have considered herself honor-bound to make him sweat. Just a little.

But not this time.

Sabine knelt down in front of him, ensuring they were on the same level.

"For better or worse," she replied softly. "Thorns and all. Yes, Ezra Bridger. I will marry you."

"show me your thorns and I'll show you hands, ready to bleed" - Aaron O'Hanlon

[rjalker]

a genderfluid companion from 4 The Words who uses alternating she and he pronouns!!!

About Azadi: Azadi, a playful genderfluid being, didn’t get her nickname, the desert flame, by chance. A life spent acquiring rare antique items earned him that nickname: her red scarf, swirling in the distance, as he made off with your precious treasure, the flames of anger flowing in those tricked. When she is not trafficking, stealing, spying, or killing, Azadi cares for his bird, a white Papple, the last in existence. As long as you don’t tell her what to do, your head will stay on your shoulders.

[ID: A digital painting of a genderfluid anthropomorphic fennec fox character, posed with one hand raised so that a little grey and white bird can land on it, while Azadi smiles up at it. She wears a large sunhat with holes cut out for his large ears, which have several peircings. She is dressed in red and blue cloth and some grey plate armour around the waist, with a long sleeved white shirt, multiple belts, and a sword sheated at his side. End ID.]

Traveling with Azadi gives you +5 Attack and +10 Luck

There's also other characters who use neopronouns but I haven't met them yet :)

[womanlifefreedom]

Iranian pop singer Mehdi Yarrahi was arrested for publishing the song, Roosarito (Your headscarf), which encourages women to remove their headscarves. In protest, women have been posting their own videos online, dancing and singing to his song and removing their scarves.

Video begins with white text on a black background in Persian and English that appear to the sounds of a typewriter: Optional hijab is just one of the many serious demands of the oppressed people of Iran, who have sacrificed many dear lives in order to achieve freedom and democracy. ROOSARITO… Dedicated to the noble women of my homeland, who bravely shine in the front line of the "Woman, Life, Freedom" movement.

By Mehdi Yarrahi.

Video shows clips of Yarrahi singing at a mic while clips of women walking without headscarves and protesting play in the background. Some of these women have been killed by the regime.

Take off your scarf, the sun is sinking Take off your scarf, your pleasant perfume fills the air Take off your scarf, let your hair flow Don't be afraid, my love! Laugh, protest against the tears Take off your scarf, let your hair flow Don't be afraid, my love! Laugh, protest against the tears

The dance of the red tresses, the lump in my throat, all your hair My face gets wet, I get your wish Take off your scarf, make the air bright and fresh My love, don't be afraid. Dance, boldy bend to kiss Take off your scarf, make the air bright and fresh My love, don't be afraid. Dance, boldy bend to kiss

(Woman! Life! Freedom!)

The cloudy sky feels blue facing you Untie your hair so that they drown in its waves Pull back the curtain so that the sky feels delighted You are the Sun, so it is impossible that the night falls

The video closes with a clip of a man harassing a young woman, camera in her face. She fights back with: Don't ever try to scare me. I will stick to my beliefs until the end of my life, remember this! I am a woman!

Final shot of an illustration of a woman, her hands in the air and taking off her scarf in front of Azadi Tower of Tehran. https://www.theguardian.com/world/2017/aug/15/azadi-tower-tehran-hossein-amanat-architect-iran

This video shows a collection of clips of different women removing their scarves while Roosarito plays. In the right hand corner, a QR code and water mark for Be Iran's Voice. Subtitles explain the context for these clips.

Source: Twitter/Iman Sefati

[kissofthemuses]

SAGA

FULL NAME: Saga Alvane

TITLES: Lady Alvane, The Girl Who Walked Between Worlds

SPECIES: Half-human, half "Midgardian" (A magical humanoid race)

OCCUPATION: multiverse traveler, princess of Sadir

FANDOM: Dreamfall Chapters

                                             PHYSICAL

                                            RELATIONSHIPS

FACECLAIM: N/A

PRONOUNS: she/her

AGE: 35

HAIR: blue

EYES: blue

HEIGHT: 5'4"

ORIENTATION: pansexual, demi-romantic

                                        PERSONALITY

FATHER: Magnus (birth), Kian Alvane (adopted), Likho (adopted)

MOTHER: Etta

                                      BIOGRAPHY

MBTI: ISTP-A / “Virtuoso”

ALIGNMENT: chaotic good

TEMPERAMENT: sanguine

ENNEAGRAM: 7w8

Saga was born in the House of All Worlds, where she lived with her parents, Etta, a Midgardian; and Magnus, a human. Sometime in her first year, Saga was visited by an apparition, the spirit of the White Dragon reborn, who vowed to watch over and protect Saga, even after the spirit became invisible to the infant’s eyes and faded from memory.

Not long after, Etta left the House on an errand and never returned, an event that deeply affected both Magnus and Saga.

Saga spent her childhood inside the House, her only companions being Magnus, her stuffed animal Hugsy, and the occasional visitor, such as her godfather Galath and the teachers who came by to assist with her education. She exhibited interest in becoming a singer-songwriter, and was a voracious reader. A more consistent passion, however, were the visual arts, and over a period of time Saga created a series of drawings based on uncommonly vivid dreams of a girl “who is an artist and is named after spring” and that girl’s adventures in another world. It was during this time, when she was seven years old, that she opened her first shift, and left the House for worlds unknown, without supervision.

Saga’s teenage years were turbulent ones, as she chafed under the strict regulations set by Magnus, who, still traumatized by Etta's disappearance, eventually placed wards around the house in order to prevent his daughter from opening shifts and indulging in her wanderlust, lest she too disappear. One time, when Magnus accidentally left behind his glasses, Saga wasted no time in using them to locate and break the wards, after which she once again left.

Since then, Saga has spent most of her life walking across worlds, only occasionally returning to the House of All Worlds, which came to be used as a storehouse more than a home. Sometime along the way, she became aware of prophecies outlining the next chapter in her life, including her roles in the battle for Marcuria; as Lady Alvane, Azadi princess and the adopted daughter of the Bloodless King; and as a player in the War of the Balance.

As the decades passed, Saga continued traveling, visiting various worlds, having many adventures, and working on various projects, such as helping Galath compile the multi-volume The Complete History of the War of The Balance and the Reunification of Worlds; work on her own tome, The House of All Worlds; and painting. Despite the reluctance of her earlier years, she eventually came to call The House of all Worlds home once again. There, she would occasionally receive visitors, some of whom she regaled with tales of the worlds gone by, and which included one April Ryan, the girl she’d dreamed about all those years ago.

[delivermytuneo6]

Mumbai as a Hub for Independent Musicians

Mumbai, often hailed as the cultural capital of India, is not just a city of Bollywood glamour but also a thriving hub for independent music. With its eclectic mix of cultures, vibrant art scenes, and a large audience base hungry for fresh and diverse sounds, the city offers a fertile ground for independent musicians to grow and flourish. While the glitz of Bollywood often overshadows other genres, the indie music scene in Mumbai has been steadily carving out its niche, fostering talent, and giving a voice to unique, often unconventional, artistic expressions.

A Melting Pot of Musical Influences

Mumbai’s cosmopolitan nature makes it a melting pot of diverse musical styles. From the traditional sounds of Marathi folk to the upbeat rhythms of global genres like hip-hop, EDM, and jazz, the city absorbs and amalgamates influences from all over the world. This diversity is reflected in the works of independent musicians who draw inspiration from their surroundings, blending traditional Indian sounds with modern musical elements.

The city's multiculturalism also means that audiences are open to experimentation. Unlike cities with niche musical preferences, Mumbai boasts a listener base that appreciates a broad spectrum of music, giving indie artists the confidence to explore and push boundaries.

Platforms and Opportunities for Indie Musicians

Mumbai offers a plethora of platforms and opportunities for independent artists to showcase their talent. These include live performances, recording studios, and digital platforms that enable musicians to connect directly with their audiences.

Live Music Venues Iconic venues such as The Blue Frog (now closed but remembered as a pioneer), AntiSocial, and The Quarter have been instrumental in promoting live performances by independent artists. These venues provide musicians with a stage to experiment with their art and engage with audiences in an intimate setting. Events like open mic nights and jam sessions further help budding artists test their music and gain recognition.

Music Festivals Festivals like NH7 Weekender and the Kala Ghoda Arts Festival have significantly boosted the indie music scene in Mumbai. These festivals bring together talent from across the country, offering a platform for musicians to reach wider audiences and network with industry professionals.

Recording Studios The city houses some of the best recording studios in the country, catering to indie artists with affordable rates and state-of-the-art equipment. Studios like Yash Raj Films Studio and Cotton Press Studios not only cater to big productions but also offer services to up-and-coming artists.

Digital Platforms The rise of streaming platforms like Spotify, Apple Music, and JioSaavn has revolutionized how music is consumed and distributed. Indie musicians can now bypass traditional gatekeepers like record labels and directly upload their music, reaching a global audience from the comfort of their homes. Additionally, platforms like YouTube and Instagram have become vital tools for promoting music and building a fan base.

Supportive Communities and Collaborations

Mumbai’s indie music scene thrives on collaboration and community support. Artists frequently collaborate to produce fresh, hybrid sounds that transcend traditional boundaries. For instance, rap collectives like Mumbai's Finest and Gully Gang have not only popularized hip-hop in India but also fostered a sense of unity among underground artists.

Community-driven initiatives, such as artist collectives and indie labels, play a crucial role in nurturing talent. For example, platforms like Azadi Records and Pagal Haina work with indie artists, helping them produce, market, and distribute their music.

Challenges Faced by Indie Musicians

While Mumbai offers numerous opportunities, the indie music scene is not without its challenges.

Financial Constraints Producing high-quality music and organizing live events require significant investment. Many indie musicians struggle to fund their projects, especially in a city where the cost of living is already high.

Overshadowed by Bollywood Bollywood dominates Mumbai's music industry, often relegating indie musicians to the background. Convincing audiences and venues to prioritize independent music over Bollywood tracks remains a persistent challenge.

Lack of Mainstream Media Support Despite the growth of the indie scene, mainstream media coverage often focuses on Bollywood and international stars. This lack of visibility makes it harder for indie musicians to gain widespread recognition.

Competitive Market Mumbai attracts talent from all over India, making the indie music scene highly competitive. Standing out in such a crowded market requires not just talent but also innovative marketing strategies.

Success Stories from Mumbai’s Indie Scene

Despite these challenges, Mumbai has birthed several success stories that inspire aspiring musicians. Artists like Prateek Kuhad, Nucleya, and Divine started small but have now achieved national and international acclaim. Their journeys reflect the potential of Mumbai’s indie music scene and the rewards of perseverance.

Divine, for example, began his career performing in local gigs and uploading his music to YouTube. His raw lyrics about life in Mumbai’s streets resonated with audiences, propelling him to fame. Today, he is one of India’s leading hip-hop artists, proving that indie musicians can achieve mainstream success without compromising their artistic integrity.

The Way Forward for Mumbai’s Indie Music Scene

As Mumbai continues to evolve as a hub for independent music, several factors will shape its future:

Increased Digital Presence The digital age offers indie musicians unprecedented opportunities for growth. By leveraging social media, streaming platforms, and crowdfunding, artists can reach global audiences and sustain themselves financially.

Collaborations Across Genres The trend of cross-genre collaborations is expected to grow, enabling musicians to explore new creative territories and attract diverse audiences.

Supportive Ecosystem Continued support from event organizers, indie labels, and government initiatives can further strengthen the indie music ecosystem in Mumbai. Tax incentives for music venues and grants for indie artists could provide much-needed financial relief.

Conclusion

Mumbai’s music industry is no longer confined to the realms of Bollywood. The city’s burgeoning indie music scene is a testament to its evolving cultural landscape, where talent, creativity, and resilience thrive. While challenges persist, the opportunities and platforms available to independent musicians in Mumbai are unparalleled. With the right mix of passion and perseverance, Mumbai’s indie artists are poised to make their mark not just on the national stage but across the globe.

[azadiblue]

book me • send me sugar @/$ pulihara

[ketokamp]

The Fake "Healthy" Diets! - Eat This To Actually Heal The Body & Stop Di...

I just released my wonderful interview with Mary Ruddick from the Metabolic Freedom Podcast  where we took a dive deep into Blue Zone Diet myths.Mary has the unique position of having lived in every blue zone in the world , and she completely dismantled the Netflix documentary and book. Here’s what we discussed…- Why not one single blue zone eats a plant-based diet - The problem with the vegan diet and nutritional deficiencies - How many healthy ancient cultures eat carnivore foods and are in ketosis - The top 3 rules to follow when traveling to prevent yourself from getting sick - Her incredible pain-to-purpose story of being bedridden for 12 years with dysautonomia, and how she overcame it - Much more...Watch or listen to the full interview NOW on The Metabolic Freedom Podcast & Ben Azadi YouTube channel.   Click the link in the comment section below to watch.

[rajexpresshindi]

Twitter Remove Blue Tick: Blue tick disappearing after changing DP

The "Har Ghar Tiranga" campaign is a nationwide initiative launched by the Government of India to encourage people to hoist the Indian National Flag at their homes. The campaign was first launched in 2022, as part of the Azadi Ka Amrit Mahotsav celebrations, commemorating the 75th anniversary of India's independence. The campaign was a success, with millions of people hoisting the flag at their homes.

This year, the campaign has been launched again, with the aim of reaching even more people. PM Modi has urged citizens to display the flag at home and change their social media DP to the national flag. He has also said that the campaign is not just about hoisting the flag, but also about instilling a sense of patriotism and pride in the hearts of the people.

The rallies that are happening nationwide under this initiative are a way to raise awareness about the campaign and to encourage people to participate. The rallies are being organized by government agencies, educational institutions, and civic organizations.

The "Har Ghar Tiranga" campaign is a great way to show our love for our country and to celebrate our independence. It is also a way to teach our children about the importance of patriotism. I urge everyone to participate in this campaign and to make India a more patriotic country.

Here are some of the benefits of the Har Ghar Tiranga campaign:

It promotes patriotism and national pride.

It educates people about the Indian National Flag and its significance.

It brings people together and fosters a sense of community.

It beautifies the landscape and makes our cities and towns more vibrant.

It boosts the economy by creating jobs in the flag manufacturing and distribution sectors.

I hope that you will join me in participating in the Har Ghar Tiranga campaign. Together, we can make India a more patriotic and beautiful country.

[indiesole]

Indies (Lifetime) Playlist Tributes to Music Legends ! - PART 7

A. R. RAHMAN 's TOP 470 (HINDI) COMPOSITIONS ! (Contd from 244):

Yt Link:

Humrahi jab ho mastana – Pukar

Roshan hui raat – Sapnay

Suhana sama – Shivaji The Boss

Telephone dhun mein – Hindustani

Beera beera – Raavan

Rehna tu – Delhi 6

Chori pe chori – Saathiya

Chal kahin door – Raunaq

Soja soja – 99 songs

Kaara fankaara – Ok jaanu

Main vari – Mangal Pandey The Rising

Aaj ki raat – Slumdog Millionaire

Shakalaka baby – Bombay Dreams

Ranga ranga – Lingaa

Khalifa – Lekar hum deewana dil

Mujhe chand pe le chalo – Sanju

Masakali – Delhi 6

Kay sera sera – Pukar

Taal se taal mila (western) – Taal

Chalo chalein purva – Nayak

Chalo chalein mitwa – Nayak

Holi re – Mangal Pandey

Jai ho – Slumdog Millionaire

Nayi nayi – 99 songs

Jagao mere des ko

Azadi – Bose The Forgotten Hero

Maloom – Lekar hum deewana dil

Fiqrana – blue

Rasiya – Mangal Pandey

Babu lko chal gaya – Khel khiladi ka

Saans – Jab tak hai jaan

Hai dard – Ada

Naina miley – Robot

O naye insaan – Robot

Love you hameshaa – Love you hameshaa

Ramta jogi – Taal

Chiggy wiggy – Blue

Mayya mayya – Guru

Yaar teri bewafaai – Love you hameshaa

Na shiqwa hota – Tehzeeb

Pagdi sambhal jatta – The legend of bhagat singh

Door na ja – Sapnay

Chinnammaa chikallammaa – Meenaxi

Hai rabba – jeans

Mangta hai kya – Rangeela

Hello doctor – Duniya dilwalon ki

Shabba shabba – Daud

Chale chalo – Lagaan

Pyar kabhi na todenge – Chor Chor

Masti ki paathshala – Rang de basanti

Al madath maula – Mangal Pandey

Never say goodbye – Dil bechara

Kaise mujhe – Ghajini

Jaane tu mera kya hai – Jaane tu ya jaane na

“ (male)

Khel hai ye khiladi ka – Khel khiladi ka

O saya – Slumdog Millionaire

Aromale – Ekk deewana tha

Hey kaala bandar – Delhi 6

Pakka dilbar jani main – Khel khiladi ka

Daud – Daud

Aahista aahista - Swades

Aashiqui mein – The Gentleman

Rang de – Thakshak

Mil gayi who manzillen – Kabhii na kabhi

Tu tu hi meri sari subahon mein – Kabhi na kabhi

Jaan tum ho meri – Vishwavidhaata

Jo bhi main – Rockstar

Haye dil ki bazi laga – One 2 ka 4

Hawa sun hawa – Ada

Barso re – Guru

Tu bole main boloon – Jaane tu ya jaane na

Aise na dekho – Raanjhanaa

Paas aaja balam – Mr. Romeo

Chandralekha – Mr. Romeo

Takey takey – Mangal pandey

Kashtiyan bhi lad gayi – Hindustani

“

Rangeela rangeela – Muthu maharaja

Arziyan – Delhi 6

Patakha guddi – Highway

Tu bin bataye – Rang de basanti

Ek bagiya mein – sapnay

Chumma de – Khel khiladi ka

Shukriya tera shukriya – Kabhi na kabhi

Aaj dil gustakh hai – Blue

Ranjha ranjha (remix) – Raavan

Zehreela pyar – Daud

Patti rap – Hum se hai muqabla

Commonwealth Games theme song

Guzaarish – Ghajini

Behka main behka – Ghajini

Kariye na – Taal

Teri meri baat ho kaise – Sapnay

Mere dil ka woh shehzada – Kabhi na kabhi

Kata kata – Raavan

Laadli – Raunaq

Main albeli – Zubeidaa

Mitwa – Lagaan

O sona – Mom

Jiya re – Jab tak hai jaan

Pam pa pa – Jhootha hi sahi

Hum bhi tum bhi – Chor chor

Kilimanjaro – Robot

Ishq shava – Jab tak hai jaan

O mera chaand – 99 songs

Noor un ala – Meenaxi

Call me dil – Jhootha hi sahi

Do nishaniyan – “

“ (heartbreak reprise) - “

Monalisa – Mr. Romeo

Maskhari – Dil bechaara

Khamoshiyan – One 2 ka 4

Jaage hain – Guru

Dheem ta dhare – Thakshak

Botal tod de – Love you hamesha

Wahji wahji – Shivaji The Boss

Tu man shudi – Raanjhanaa

Phulwari ne loota – Muthu Maharaja

Offho jalta hai – Lakeer

Afreeda – Dil bechara

Mere yaara dildara – Kabhi na kabhi

Hello hello – Jhootha hi sahi

Heera – Highway

Kismet se – Raunaq

Sawar gayi – Dil hi dil mein

Mil hi gaye – Mr. Romeo

Roobaroo – Rang de basanti

Kehne ko dadi – jeans

Hum bhi tum bhi – Chor chor

Osaka muraiya – One 2 ka 4

Shehzaade – Lakeer

Nachle – Lakeer

Khoyee khoyee – Tehzeeb

Oh mariya – Dil hi dil mein

Mujhko lagata – Dharam yodha

My dilli ka shehzada – Dharm yodha

Shora so pehchaniye – The legend of bhagat singh

Paas aja balam re – Mr. Romeo

Roop suhana lagta hai – The Gentleman

Machali paani bina – Mr. Romeo

Aye naaraazman – Ok Jaanu

Sadiyaan – Lakeer

Shakalaka baby – Nayak

Kya kare kya na kare – Rangeela

Yaaron sun lo zara – Rangeela

Arima arima – Robot

Wanna mash up – Highway

Kahaan hoon main – Highway

“

Kismat se- Raunaq

Chitti dance – Robot

Rookhi sookhi roti – Nayak

Jammin’ – Yaara

Khoon chala – Rang de Basanti

Khalbali – Rang de basanti

Paigaam – Lakeer

Oh sai yaiye – Daud

I am sorry – One 2 ka 4

Veere kadh de – 99 songs

Bharti commercial ad tune

Ishq ada (male)

Mawaali qawaali – Lekar hum deewana dil

Romeo teri kismet – Mr. Romeo

Suraj hai chanda hai – Shivaji

Gulfisha – Ada

Rozana – L:akeer

Aye bachchu – Ghajini

Freaking life – Mom

Nazrein milana – Jaane tu ya jaane na

Pappu can’t dance- “

Mona gasolina – Lingaa

India re – Lingaa

Sooha saaha – Highway

Mera naam kizie – Dil bechaara

Khatta meetha – Raunaq

Boom boom robo da – Robot

Ooparwala maalik hai – Muthu Maharaja

Dil se dil jara – Khel khiladi ka

Banno rani – 1947 earth

Jiya se jiya

Ek lo ek muft – Guru

Style – Sivaji The Boss

Theme music – Sivaji the Boss

Muafi mushkil – Mom

Be nazaara – mom

Thok de killi – Raavan

Chalke re – Lingaa

Title track – Dil Bechaara

Friendzone – “

Baazi laga – Guru

Cry cry – jhootha hi sahi

Koi samjha de – Muthu Maharaja

Ruby ruby – Sanju

Banarasiyaa – Ranjhanaa

Wako naam fakir – The Fakir Of Venice

Chidiya tu hoti toh – Nayak

I wanna be free – Tehzeeb

Meherbaan – Tehzeeb

Aandhi ki tarah – Sivaji The Boss

Kooke kawn – Mom

Do kadam – Meenaxi

Raakkh baaki – Mom Instrumentals:

The shimmer for sidhu – Mohenjo daro

Waltz for a romance – Lagaan

Lakh lakh thora – Mohenjo daro

Whispers of the heart – Mohenjo daro

Whispers of the mind – Mohenjo daro 452.The oracle – 99 songs 453.The voice without words – 99 songs

The horizon of saudade – Dil bechaara

Latika’s theme – Slumdog Millionaire

Slumdog Millionaire – Slumdog Millionaire

Gangsta blues – “

Ringa rinnga – “

Implosive silence – Highway

Liquid dance – Slumdog millionaire

MIA – “

Riots – “

Mausam and escape – “

Mumbai theme tune

Meherbaan – Ada

Swades heme music – Swades

The thump of daud – daud

Street dancer – Airtel 3G ad tune

[paandaan]

11, 12, and 15 for the book ask if that's not too many! 🌷✨

11. what non-fiction books do you like if any?

azadi: freedom. fascism. fiction by arundhati roy / willful subjects by sarah ahmed / the wretched of the earth by frantz fanon / still life with oysters and lemon / 19 ways of looking at wang wei / the great soul of siberia / underland: a deep time journey

12. did you enjoy any compulsory high school readings?

won't even lie my school education was mostly focused on english language than english literature and i only remember reading a shakespeare play, i think it was midsummer's night dream (not sure if that is the correct name btw) and i did really enjoy it

15. recommend and review a book

again - am awful at reviewing but some of my favorite reads from this year were linden hills, housekeeping, cursed bunny and cobalt blue - would definitely recommend all of these books (note: they're all very heavy books - they're all about identities and people and what becomes of a person when they're othered in specific ways, all books touch on different aspects of humanity and they're all beautifully written and thoughtful in how they handle their characters and stories, linden hills was interesting because of its built-in structure; cobalt blue discusses the grief of losing someone who you could've never attained from different perspectives; cursed bunny is a grotesque and absurd and satirical presentation of women and their daily lives, their larger contexts; and housekeeping is the inevitable loneliness of meandering away from but always into melancholy)

[illuminatedquill]

This scene is darkly amusing to me considering that Sabine is putting on a big act that she’s in a rush to get back home (to her and Ezra’s comm-tower) just to do this:

Jai Kell states at the ceremony to Governor Azadi that Sabine had been present, albeit briefly (“She was just here”, he mutters to an annoyed Ryder).

I’m assuming she went there to greet everyone and catch up with the people who mattered but when it came time to kick off the event, she skipped out.

Sabine has poured so much of herself into keeping the memory of Ezra alive, despite everyone else moving on. But the price is that she has turned into a ghost in her own life. Trapped in that tower, locked inside by her own regret and grief.

The more superstitious folks of Capital City whisper amongst themselves that the old comm-tower that stands alone in the tall fields is cursed.

Some say that a mad woman lives there. Explosions go off randomly every now and then; strange, bright lights emit from the rooftop balcony that shoot off into the night sky, as if desperately searching for something. They say that an army of loth-cats keeps watch against curious interlopers, hissing and snarling at any who dare come close.

Others think that there is a ghost haunting the comm-tower. One brave soul got close enough to see with a pair of binoculars into the dilapidated building: they saw a ghostly figure wrapped in a shroud, sitting on the balcony during a cold night, watching a pale blue holo-recording of a young man. The howl of a nearby loth-wolf scared them to their senses before getting closer but they remembered clearly that the shrouded figure’s eyes were overflowing with grief and sadness.

The last of these tall tales reach Azadi’s ears. Only he knows the truth. When asked by the more curious citizenry, he always takes the time to correct them: there are two ghosts that haunt that place, not one.

Sabine of the Day: "eye-roll"!Sabine

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