#before I drew this I tried to look for an existing version of this comic with these two

[mmmwafflesart]

how his character arc went if I'm remembering correctly (og comic)

[siryouarebeingmocked]

Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse: I may have activated my own trap card

Spoilers for a movie that's two months old and also out on home release.

So, Miles, Gwen, Pavitr (Spider-India), and Hobie (Spider-Punk) all seem to have modern left-wing politics, though Gwen's got edited out. Hobie's introduction specifically says he hates "fascists", which carries over from the original comics.

By the time Hobie came around, I assumed he was just another poser, cooler than the hero rival character, expressing generic leftie politics, and his punk ethos wasn't sincere.

Which is exactly what the writers wanted me to think.

Not only is Hobie perfectly sincere about being anti-authoritarian, but he's been helping Miles since before they even met. He's been blatantly stealing junk from the Spider Society to build his own universe-jumping watch, and disguising it as petty vandalism.

He even tries to talk Miles out of trying to join the Spider-Society before the reveal that Miles himself is an anomaly, and the SS (geddit?) tries to detain Miles.

When Hobie says he's against authoritarianism, he really means it.

Speaking of the left-wing politics, Miles has a "#BLM" pin on his bag. It's very visible while he sits next to his dad.

Who's a cop.

(TANGENT: A few years ago, someone drew a stupid, very bad comic where Spider-Man (Peter Parker) was a) black, b) hated cops, and c) assaulted and subdued riot cops when they asked him for help.

That the comic didn't even show the riot cops were wrong. We were just supposed to assume they deserve to be left to the mercy of an angry mob.

Also, in this comic, Uncle Ben was killed by a cop, not a random thug who Spidey could've stopped but chose not to. Which makes me wonder how that would shake out.

It's kind of weird for someone to look at a character who's about personal responsibility to an unhealthy degree, and use him to express their collectivist anti-cop terrorism fantasies. That, or they didn't think through their fantasies.)

During Spider-India's opening, Miles says "I love Chai Tea!" And Pavitr goes on a rant about how "Chai" means "tea". Later on, The Spot says he's been on a "journey of self-discovery", and Pavitr basically says he's racist.

Which is a tad ironic, because Spot is literally white. And also because Pavitr is the one making the racist assumptions.

And I personally go to a church - in England - that has a lot of non-white non-British people. Mostly Africans. And me, of course. I wonder if any Asians ever went on a journey of self discovery to South London.

And I don't just mean as a cab driver.

"Wait, SYABM, didn't you move to the UK for self-discovery?"

W-well, yes, partially.

Aside: I made the mistake of watching a Youtube video with the Chai Tea joke, and then I looked at the comments.

One guy said "tfw when Twitter users write a movie". An idiot (with much more upvotes) said "bro out here wanting blatant racism in movies".

...When the whole point of the joke is that the racism is not blatant.

It's only "blatant" if you're insufferably Twitterized. There are loads of redundant phrasings in English, like "ATM machine", and words often shift when they're adopted from other languages.

Also, "I dislike this joke" is not the same as "I want racism in this movie", when the "racism" in the movie is only there so it could be mocked.

One of the issues with putting real world movements in worlds that are drastically different - it's one of the main selling points of the franchise - is that it may seem odd that those movements exist in very similar form to the IRL version.

For example, Miles supports BLM in both his video game, and this. Which makes me think "did Trayvon Martin get shot in Florida? How about Mike Brown? Wouldn't the existence of supervillains throw things into a new perspective?"

Did I mention the giant George Floyd-style "REST IN POWER" mural to Miles' dead uncle? I cringed at that in the Wakanda Forever trailer, and I rolled my eyes at it here.

Floyd wasn't a saintly martyr, he was an unlucky violent thug.

Also, Aaron was a supervillain killed by another bad guy who nearly destroyed the city, not a cop.

Also, this is at a party to celebrate how Miles' dad is about to be promoted. Assuming Floyd died and the 2020 protests/riots also happened in Miles' universe, then it seems a tad tasteless to have a mural inspired by an anti-cop movement overlooking it, even if the party is not full of cops.

Spider-India lives in "Mumbattan".

The people who settled the Manhattan area were originally Indian. But the other type of Indian. The Indians we're not supposed to call Indians anymore.

The name "Manhattan" is even Native American.

The first permanent settlement was Dutch. Then the English got it. I guess the English could've shipped Indians to the other side of the world and eventually ceded the area to them, or maybe in this world India was a world-conquering superpower and Mumbattan is the result of...importing Native Americans?

Which would make Pavitr's complaint that "the British stole all of our stuff and put it in their museums" seem a tad hypocritical.

Of course, since I wrote all that, someone reminded me that Pavitr explicitly says the joint is in India.

"SYABM," you say, "you're overthinking this."

Yes, I am. Because the filmmakers didn't think it through. If you want to use ha-ha-funny to make a serious point, you invite examination of that point.

Miles (as Spidey) now works with his dad, though he disguises his voice. At one point, Miles tells his father that men bottle up mental health issues.

This is true (and ironic, considering Miles is hiding who he is from Jeff), but it's not the first time I've seen some progressive work try to address men's issues in an very awkward way. At least here, it's played for comedy.

Also, seems a tad hypocritical coming from a guy who wears a "#BLM" pin in the presence of his cop father.

Also, if you work the timeline, that would mean Miles was about 7 or 6 when BLM started. Which means he's gone most of his life knowing nothing else.

There was a controversy over a "protect trans kids" trans flag in Gwen's room, which was apparently edited out.

IMO, it seems a tad strange for a girl who feels estranged from everyone in her world to join a social movement, but what do I know? Maybe it was there before then.

Some people came to the extremely logical conclusion that Gwen herself is trans. Even though she's distinctly physically feminine and possibly too young for puberty blockers depending on Earth 65′s laws.

Like the "oh great, it's Liv" shippers, people are reaching really hard to see what they want to see.

Some people have said that Gwen's issues with her dad and herself seem awfully similar to the issues LGBTQIA2S+ kids go through.

Gee, it's not like, y'know, feeling estranged from one's family is a common theme in fiction about teenagers and superhero, and the whole "superpowers = minority" thing has been done to death for most of the past century.

Perhaps most notably - and clumsily - in X-Men.

I'm not saying this wasn't the intended subtext. I'm saying if it was, it would just be really, really cliche.

There's this recurring theme of people telling miles "how [his] story is supposed to go".

When he's at a meeting with his parents and his guidance counselor, the lady says his story of being a black-Latino son of an immigrant would sound great in the college application letters. His mom is a tad miffed, given that they're a) solidly middle class, and b) as a Puerto Rican, she considers herself American.

Miguel (Spider-Man 2099) doesn't want Miles in the multiversal council of Spiders, because Miles was bitten by the radioactive spider from a different universe. Which is why his local Spider-Man died, and the spider's home dimension has no Spider-Man.

Also, Miguel is fixated on "canon events". The idea that there are certain things, especially tragedies, that have to happen to Spiders, or their entire universe falls apart.

And he knows this, because he tried to take over for a version of him that got shot dead by a thug. Tried to raise his daughter.

And he watched as the universe collapsed in front of him.

So he's projecting his own guilt onto Miles, a tad.

According to TVtropes and other sources, this was actually about the people who didn't accept Miles as a replacement Spidey, possibly out of racism.

Yeah, that's real hard-hitting topical meta-commentary about a character who debuted 12 years ago. 8 years when the first movie came out.

I'd also like to point out that despite stereotypes of comic book fans, certain minority successors to banner superheros have been fairly well-received. Like Jaime Reyes, or Cassandra Cain.

(Note: I wrote that before the Blue Beetle movie came out. And flopped.)

And, of course, loads of people like Miles specifically because he's a minority Spidey, which is also racist, just from the other direction. In fact, a lot of his fans seem to forget the "Latino" part of "Afro-Latino". From what little I've seen of Miles early comics, they did actually put strong emphasis on his race.

I also suspect the filmmakers may be misinterpreting the usual successor knee-jerk reactions

as racism. If you're using an established brand name for your new hero, you're creating some expectations.

Also, you know the most popular meme about regular Spidey that I see? That Marvel's writers just keep making him suffer and don't want him to actually develop. Which would kinda make Marvel closer to Team Miguel than Team Miles.

Miles also gripes that Miguel is letting "some algorithm" tell him what to do. While I agree with the sentiment, I'd like to point out that, again, Miles supports BLM.

A movement popularized by an algorithm.

A movement made up of narratives and assumptions.

A movement which has never proven a single incident was because of racism.

During the big chase scene, we see a Spider girl in a wheelchair, aka Sun-Spider. She's from the comics. Same initiative that gave us "Web-Weaver".

Who is, of course, an extremely effete gay fashion designer Spidey. I kinda like his outfit, though the Spider-eyes with eyelashes is a little too far.

And Sun-Spider seems exactly like a character a stereotypical 90s executive and focus group would come up with. Down to the backward baseball cap.

(Turns out she's Dayn Broder's actual Spider-Sona.)

Also, while I was looking up that one black and white Spider who said "nowhere to run" (Metro-Spider, played by record producer Metro Boomin [/sic]), I found out that Aunt May's full name is "Maybelle", not just "May". TIL.

There's a bit of a double standard with this version of Spider-Woman, who's black and pregnant. -People in the movie - including Peter B - regularly point out how Peter B endangering his infant daughter Mayday by taking her along with him. But for some reason, nobody says a word about Jessica, who's an active-duty stunt-biking superhero.

Even regular motorbiking can be dangerous for pregnant women.

In fact, the movie portrays this as heroic and impressive. When Gwen sees  Jess is preggos, she asks if Jess can adopt her.

Not to mention the whole "afro and hoop earrings" thing, which seem like a bad idea for a type of hero who often gets into melee combat, even with Spider-Sense.

Yes, I'm aware that female heroes, including the Spider-Ladies, often have exposed hair. It's a genre convention. Incidentally, it was nice to see Batwoman wore a detachable decoy wig in the comics. Some bad guy tries to grab it in a fight? It comes right off.

Also, Jess doesn't have much actual character.

Being pregnant is not a character trait. In fact, her only real traits are basically "cool but stern sassy mentor", to contrast with Peter B. -Incidentally, someone on TVtropes pointed out the double standard. And when I saw the page again, a page-camper had deleted it, with no explanation.

Guess they couldn't stand someone pointing out the flaws of their waifu.

(One) Spider-UK in this movie is Muslim. I know she's Muslim because she wears a Spider-themed headdress. Note that regular Marvel 616 has a muslim lady Spider-UK, but her name is Zarina Zahari and she doesn't wear a hijabi.

(Also, she could be mistaken for Ms. Marvel.)

ms marvel.jpg

You might be thinking "wait, isn't a headdress impractical in a melee fight? Doesn't it give your enemy something to grab?" Yes, it is.

But so are Jess's earrings, afro, and being pregnant, so clearly there's a lot of artistic license going on.

Maybe it's partially tearaway, like Batman's cape.

I gotta wonder about the religious rules of wearing a head covering over a mask that *already* covers your entire head. Did she go see her imam and go "Okay, I have a really weird question..."

Come to think, Spidey is usually slim, but a lot of lady Spideys in this movie seemed to have wide hips. Including muscular ladies. Kris Anka's concept art goes really hard on wide hips. I don't know why. Stronger, faster character reads during the big chase?

I guess Spiders could be expected to have strong legs.

BOTTOM LINE:

I liked the movie overall, though the progressive bits made me roll my eyes a little. I...want to see the third one, with reservations.

[sabo-has-my-heart]

I think an AU where the One Piece world has its own version of tumblr and Ao3 and Sanji introduces his siblings to them during WCI would be really funny

-🦇

🦇 anon! It's so great to hear from you again! So I hope this is about what you wanted, I gave everybody cellphones for the sake of ease. Let me know if this isn't what you wanted or you'd like me to try again. I'm always happy to write.

Warnings: mentions of raunchy fanfiction, Sanji being a little petty, slight violence

Word Count: 1320

     Scrolling through his timeline, Sanji sighed. It was one of his only solaces, he still had access to his phone and his social media. He’d blocked the others so that they couldn’t check his posts or anything, but he hoped that it would be temporary, even as they slapped the bracelets on his wrists, threatening to blow off his hands. Reading the various fanfiction stories had helped, stories of Sora, warrior of the sea, and how he’d rescue people, how he’d beat the bad guys and get the girl. The man’s love life and women fawning over him. At the moment, he was writing some of his own fanfiction, though his had less to do about love and more about how ‘stealth black wasn’t a bad guy’! Stealth Black who was forced into Germa’s evil doings by his evil father and siblings! Except Poison Pink who was actually very supportive of Stealth Black. Was he telling the story from his side? Yes. Did he care? Not a bit!

     “‘You’re a weakling, Stealth Black. How could someone like you be related to us?’ Sparkling Red sneered, kicking his brother, sending him flying back. ‘You’re just the pathetic reject, we’d be better off without you!’ Electric Shock Blue mocked, standing over the dark haired young man. ‘It would have been better if you didn’t exist.’ Winch Green added, punching Stealth Black as he tried to stand. This was a constant for him, to be bullied by his siblings, all he wanted was to run away.” Sanji muttered as he typed on his phone. The sound of someone scoffing drew his attention away from his writing, looking up to see his brothers. 

     “First cooking, now fanfiction? You really are a worthless disgrace.” Ichiji said, the three looking at him with contempt. Sanji gripped his phone tightly, it took all his willpower not to simply crush the device as he glared at his brothers. Pausing, an idea came to mind as he smirked.

     “Why? I’m just portraying you in the proper light. The Sora comics paint you to be absolute villains and the writers online portray you as something… else. I figured they need someone to show the world who you really are.” Sanji said, making the description of the fan’s portrayal deliberately vague. They hated it when Sanji hid something from them, or when they couldn’t mock him, they wanted to know what he knew so they could hold it over him somehow, as if it would prove their superiority. 

     “What do you mean, something else?” Niji asked, his eyes narrowing behind his goggles.

     “Oh it’s nothing, they just get your characters completely wrong. I can understand the Sora comics, you’re supposed to be the villains. You’re terrible enough people that you make great villains, but the fan writers. They’re just… no, it’s better if I don’t tell you, I doubt you could handle it. I can barely handle it, you three would have no chance.” Sanji taunted as he tilted his head back towards his phone, though he made sure to keep an eye on his brothers, watching their reactions as they glared at him.

     “What are you implying, Sanji?” Yonji asked, the three of them stalking over to the blond, looking down at him. Sanji smirked inwardly as he pulled up some of the raunchiest stories of his brothers.

     “I suppose this one will do. It’s not one of the more tame stories, but it’s about what most of the writers online write.” he said, trying to look nonchalant, his legs crossing, “A Rainbow Love by GermaLover667.” Sanji said before launching into the story. It was one of the stories that he knew would bother them. Filled with emotions, impossibilities, incorrect character depictions, and the part he knew would bother them most, the ‘forbidden love between brothers’. It was about 20 minutes later as he was halfway through the story that he looked up. This was probably the most emotion he’d seen on their faces outside of cruel glee. Ichiji was glaring, looking like he was about to murder somebody, Niji was shaking with rage, and Yonji looked greener than usual. Granted, the story highly disturbed Sanji as well, but the blond was able to put it aside simply for the joy of causing his brothers some of the same torturous misery that they typically inflicted upon him. 

     “Hm, maybe I should stop reading, you three don’t look like you can handle much more. I mean, I’m not exactly pleased about the… content either, they make you three out to be way more caring than you really are and I don’t think I’d ever do some of the things happening in the story, but if I finish the story, no, it’s best if I don’t finish this.” Sanji said dismissively, once more gaining their ire.

     “Are you saying you can handle it better than us? Finish the damned lousy piece of shit, Sanji!” Niji barked, his hands clenched into fists. He’d prove that he was better than Sanji! He could handle this shitty smut story better than his little brother! Sanji sighed and shook his head as if he didn’t believe the blue haired boy but returned to reading the fic, glancing back up at them once he’d finished it. During the second half of the story, Ichiji had tossed a guard out the window and punched a hole in the wall, Niji had ripped the couch apart as he tried to contain his anger, and Yonji had damn near destroyed the ceiling. 

     “Hm, I suppose you guys took that a little better than I expected. How about I send you all something a bit tamer to read in your spare time, it’s more romance related, but it’s not ‘brotherly love’ romance, just x reader romance.” Sanji said with a shrug. 

     “Tch, like we have time for that crap. Unlike worthless rejects, we’ve actually got important shit to attend to.” Yonji said, turning away and quickly leaving.

     “Besides, why would we care about the worthless crap that shitty writers make up.” Niji spat, following Yonji out, leaving just as quickly though trying to make it look less like he was running away. Ichiji stared at Sanji for a moment. 

     “I swear, if you show anyone these stories, I’ll blow your hands off myself.” Ichiji hissed before finally leaving, slamming the door so hard it destroyed the hinges, falling to the ground shortly after he’d left. Sanji stifled his laughter as he tapped on his library. He felt like reading some Stealth Black fics, they were surprisingly accurate about his character despite the fact that Stealth Black in the Sora comics was vastly different from how he actually was.

     “That was quite brilliant, little brother.” a feminine voice said for the doorway, a pink haired female smiling at him.

     “Hey, Reiju. I just thought they might want to know what people are writing about them.” Sanji said with a smirk, the woman chuckling in response.

     “Personally, I like some of the Poison Pink stories, they usually aren’t too bad. Though there’s a few that are as terrible as the one you just read to them.” she said, pulling out her own phone and scrolling through some of her favorites, sending the links to Sanji.

     “I’ll check ‘em out later, right now I think I’d like to mess with them a little more.” Sanji said as he pulled up a new page, preparing to write something that he knew would bug his brothers. Was it petty? Probably, but they deserved it for everything they put him through, so he honestly didn’t care. Besides, it was a lot of fun and it got them off his back. It might be disturbing to write things about his own asshole brothers, but if it meant seeing the looks on their faces, it might be worth it to write some of his own.

[sur-un-fil]

Some of BATIM's Alternate Universes (AU)

( The English version, let's go!)

Uptate: 23/03/2021

⦁ Abomination, @halfusek : (practically finished). One main comic "Abomination" HERE, other small ones here and there and two linked accounts: Magenta (a kind of ask-Joey) and the same for Henry: Marshmallow. -> The Abomination comic in a few words: "prequel" of the game, where we discover the installation of the Ink Machine, the various attempts at creations of cartoons and the descent into hell (and especially the madness) of the main character , Mister Drew himself.

⦁ The Illusion of living, @waruihoshi : (finished but possibly reworked). A main comic HERE, as well as some gifs and animatics. -> The story in a few words: a "prequel" also, but where we find a well-intentioned Joey who tries to find the happiness he has lost.

⦁ New soul, Elwensa (in progress) A magnificent comic book, which can also be found on DA, HERE -> In a few words (IFW): Henry manages to break the cycle and "bring back" Bendy. They are looking together for a way out of the Studio.

⦁ Toon Henry, @hailo-c: (finished / abandoned) A collection of small comics that begin a story, which can be found together on Pixiv HERE. The author is also at the origin - if I am not mistaken - of some animations, of which that of "Welcome Home". -> IFW: What if Henry becomes a toon and Joey has brainwashed Bendy ?

⦁ Robberhose, @yunisverse : (finished) A nice series of comics and some fics, of which the masterpost can be found HERE. -> IFW: Henry, corrupted by the ink, becomes a toon and tries to get out of the Studio. Based in part on the script, this is a really nice AU who develops some very interesting ideas.

⦁ Sammy and the Ink Machine, @nayialovecat : (in progress): A series of mini-comics centered around Sammy. Other series are in preparation, including a prequel "Before Henry". To be found mainly on DA, HERE. I am translating them :) -> IFW: we mostly follow Sammy, Bendy and Henry in a Studio stuck in chapter 2. A lot, but then a lot of humor: we have a Sammy, adoring his "lord" like a 13-year-old girl adores a boy singer -band, a Bendy who tries to avoid him and who finds that his life sucks a lot, and a more or less disillusioned Henry who tries to survive as best he can.

⦁ 2D Bendy, @shinyzango  : (finished, evolved into something else) Some comics, some UA fanarts. HERE -> IFW: Henry has managed to recover a "living" drawing of Bendy and tries with him to survive his other demonic versions.

⦁ Hell's Studio, @doodledrawsthings : (more or less finished) A series of drawings and comics HERE, three great animatics on Youtubes (but I do not believe that the designer is the owner) -> IFW: a Joey more stupid than cruel / avaricious gives life to a version of Bendy who does not appreciate the drawings and the management of the Studio. Lots of humor, and towards the end the author tackles (very well) a serious theme.

⦁ Team Sillyvision, @corruptimles : (still in progress) A few comics, a lot of drawings. HERE -> IFW: We follow two "teams" Sammy and Henry, and a little Bendy who is attached to the projectionist.

⦁ The Devil's Roost, @devilsroost : (still active) Lots of comics, a main arc to be found HERE and a lot of questions and answers from Bendy himself.  -> IFW: Bendy is a true demon, embodied in a toon body modeled in ink. So exit the cute little devil who is afraid of ghosts, and hello the demon who drinks, smokes cigars and loves big breasts. He moved to Toon-Town and opened a bar there (Yes. A bar). Lots and lots of humor. But not only!

⦁ Lampblack City, @lampblackcity : (paused) Some comics following a precise arc HERE, drawings and questions and answers in relation to AU . Quite a lot of OC. -> IFW: Henry, Boris, Alice and Bendy managed to leave the Studio and they are installed in Lampblack city. But ink corruption still exists and they find themselves having to fight it because only they know about it.

⦁ Happily Ever After, @a-rae-of-sunshine: (still in progress) To my knowledge, especially comics. HERE -> IFW: Henry "recovers" an intact Bendy at the end of the 5th chapter and leaves the Studio with Alice (Allisson) and Tom. We also accompany them outside.

⦁ Henry and the Ink Machine  + the buddy AU, @thelostmoongazer : (finished ... I think). A few comics forming a story. HERE -> INF: Bendy, perfectly formed, runs away from Joey before things go wrong. Much later, he receives a rather threatening letter, half ordering him to return to the Studio. Where he finds an "inky" Henry.

⦁ MOB Boss Bendy, Beneccio Drew @thelostmoongazer : (finished / abandoned?) A few comics but mostly drawings and questions and answers. HERE -> IFW: A perfect adult Bendy, turned mafioso, evolves in a city full of toons (?).

⦁ Bendy get a life, NEGADUCK9, deviantart : (still in progress) Full, but then full of mini-strips, to find HERE. -> IFW: Well ... I haven't read them. Sorry ^^ '. But we mostly follow Bendy, Alice and Boris as if they had a "real" life. 

⦁ Ink Stain, @metallicartist : (paused) A (very good) comic book, which can be read in great quality on Tapas HERE. -> IFW: What if a good blow to the head was all it took to make the Studio characters to themselves? The arc follows the story of the game.

⦁ Hell's Kitchen, @spudinacup : (overwhelmed artist) Some comics. HERE. -> EQM: Ink Bendy is opening (I have no idea why!) A bacon soup canteen.

⦁ Escape, @inkdemonapologist (more or less finished) A few comics starting a (pretty) story. HERE. -> IFW: All the ex-employees of the Studio managed to leave the Studio and took refuge in a house, together.

⦁ Host, @random-friendly-1ntrovert: (in progress) For the moment, three pretty comics - which I translate :) - HERE. -> IFW: An entity searches for hosts and uses Bendy's naivety and distress to find them.

⦁ Broken cycle, @bccomicask : (in progress) Some  pretty comics, all by hand. HERE. -> IFW: Ink Bendy crosses the ink and arrives in a swapped version of the Lost Ghetto. Kind of "Sandman".

⦁ Ask Bendy, @askthedevilswing:(stopped): Some magnificent comics and especially questions and answers.HERE. -> IFW: A (practically) perfect bendy worries about being stolen the show.

⦁ Inkborne, Abel the Angel, @the-vampire-inside-me:(deactivated account, difficult to find) -> IFW: Inkborne is an adaptation of the scenario of the game with another and Abel is an OC. From what I understand, it was also designed by Drew but now evolves in a city of Toons ... And not doing all angelic things.

⦁ Bendy Before The Ink Machine, @bendybeforetheinkmachine-rus: (in progress) Comics, to be read in the Japanese way. HERE. -> IFW: I haven't read it, unfortunately ... I understand that Bendy is human and takes over from Joey at the head of his company ...

⦁ Bendy's mafia, Dylan the demon: @eliana55226838 and for Dylan (I understand he had changed owners, but impossible to find her name. So sorry, if anyone knows ...) HERE. -> IFW: I haven't - so far - been able to find the beginning of the story ^^. But I think it's centered around a Bendy turned criminal, around whom a few other characters in the game revolve.

⦁ "Collage-man", @bravagio (Provisional name, just beginning) For now, a few drawings but an interesting idea and a sumptuous line. HERE. -> EQM: What if Henry was corrupted by ink and was behind the funny portrait Boris made in his refuge?

⦁ Welcome to Bendyland, @welcometobendyland: (starts this month) For now, mostly Q&A and a very promising UA draft. JUST THERE. -> EQM: We find a Henry transformed into Bendy without him remembering how as well as Allison and Tom. To be continued ;)

..............................................................................................................................

P.S: Keep in mind that these AUs are all in English, mostly two to three years old and quite often based on the early chapters of BATIM.

If I forgot any, if there are others you like, if I made a mistake or if my English stings your eyes, do not hesitate to tell me (kindly, it is not intentional !)

Enjoy!

[juniaships]

The girl in green (movie sonic x oc drabble)

Or Sonic's observation of Green Hill's newest resident. Tw for bullying and subtle misogynoir.

Every afternoon Sonic visited the plaza. He loved watching the citizens go by their day. Today was surprisingly empty, as there was no one except maybe a few sparse passerby. Then he saw a girl dressed in green clothes walking by with a book in her hand. She took a seat on the bench of the fountain. While her clothes were drabby - long skirt and sweater - she wore bright turquoise glasses. Her braids were thick and tied at the ends with large beads of a similar hue. Sonic was mesmerized by the girl. She had moved to town very recently to a worn house near the edge of the forest where he often ran around in. She barely left her house except to go to school.

The Girl In Green was ignorant to the alien observing her. Instead she gazed at her rippling reflection and started to move her hand in a circular motion.

"Hey girlfriend watcha doin'?"

The Girl in Green quickly drew her hand back as another girl arrived with two more girls in tow.

Sonic frowned. Regina George. That wasn't her name for sure, but he watched enough movies to recognize one when he see one. In fact he often overheard the other students referring to the blonde as that. Except whereas Regina wore pink and had red hair in the move, this version had pale blonde hair in a bob cut and wore light-blue sweatpants and jacket. One of her henchmen wore a matching set in dark blue and had shorter brown hair; the other wore purple and long curly red hair.

"We haven't talked yet," said the blonde in a sweetly disgusting tone. The Girl in Green looked up and pursed her lips before saying:

"I'm sorry?"

Sonic continued to watch with disdain as the girls sat down with the Girl in Green. She looked very uncomfortable.

"I like your hair," the blonde remarked as she stroked one of the Green Girl's braid. The other girls snickered. The Girl in Green drew back with a squirm.

"What book you're reading?" Asked the ginger in purple.

"Maya Angelou. Perhaps you should try it. Maybe it'll give you something to do besides bothering me," said the girl in green.

The other girls became flustered. Purple Girl's face started to match her hair.

"Excuse me? All I wanted was to have conversation!"

The Green Girl sighed. "Listen I don't know any of you but I see enough of you to know that you are...what's the word? A bully. High Class bullies."

"Aww is that supposed to hurt our feelings." Blue Regina pouted in fake hurt. Shockingly she lunged for the Green Girl's book.

"Hey stop!" She held tight to her novel however the blonde managed to rip the book out her arms.

The sight of it made Sonic's blood boil. He wanted to go down there and give Regina George a piece of his mind. But that would mean exposing his existence. So he held himself back and watched horrified as the girls continued their bullying before finally throwing Green Girl's book into the fountain. As the poor girl tried to reach for her book one of the girls pushed her into the fountain as well. The harpies laughed as if they were at a comedy club and walked away.

Noelani tasted salt and chlorine and realized she was crying. Sullenly she grabbed the soggy remnants of her book and squeezed the water out her clothes as best she can. No matter how hard she tried to stand up to herself things always go wrong and the bullies always win. She thought she escaped from that city, but it seemed it always followed her no matter where she went.

Sonic's heart broke for the girl. He wanted to kick himself in the arse for not intervening. Maybe he could give her one of his books to make her feel better. Sure they were just comic books but it was the most he could do. Silently he left the plaza and went back to his shelter to get his present.

By the time Noelani got back home she was exhausted. Her eyes were stinging red from crying and the chlorine. People had star ed at her as she walked through town like a prisoner on death row. Her clothes has dried a little - at least she didn't have to worry about washing them. She snorted bitterly. Some life this was! Shitty home, shitty neighbors shitty everything! Maybe she could find some work and hopefully save enough to move far away from here.

Her aunt and uncle weren't home. Even with the extra money they still had to work long hours at their new jobs. While she appreciated them there was a sense of loneliness and anger. They were always struggling. The bills always high. The food always cheap. She despised feeling like a victim but after what happened today she afforded to lash out a little. Once she got to that raggedy house she noticed something on the porch. She picked it up. It was a copy of The Adventures of Tintin along with a note. She read and and looked around. Who left this here? She thought it was weird that she get a - well it was worn but still - a new book after she lost her other one. Was it fate?

Nah. She'd rather have money to buy herself a whole library. She shrugged and took the book inside to throw it in the bin.

From the safety of the forest sonic watched as the girl picked up his gift and read his note. He hoped she liked it.

He had no idea that it would end up in the recycling just as she promised it would.

I know I know Noelani is being a jackass but you know what? People are flawed and trust me Noelani is getting her positive development soon. Even though she's an OC don't expect her to be infallible and super sweet 24/7. She's going to have negative moments. Even though she is Sonic's love interest I want her to have a personality. Besides Having her undergo an arc of her own is far more compelling than 'shallow love interest. Will be A full story published on my Wattpad GritsandBrits.

[problematic-faves-appreciation]

Problematic Faves Cliffs Notes: Harvey Dent/Two-Face

Batman (1980) #329

Summary: Once a crusading district attorney that worked alongside Batman and Jim Gordon to fight crime – now the duality-obsessed super criminal known as Two-Face.

Harvey Dent also serves as a dark reflection of Batman's own struggles living a dual life with conflicting identities.

Main Goal: To enact his own justice whilst committing crimes.

Fears: Uncertainty, himself in general [the things he's capable of, specifically], losing control, his loved ones dying, his darker half discovering Bruce's secret identity [Detective Comics (2016) #1021], Renee Montoya's rejection [Batman: No Man's Land, novel], and the Joker [Joker (2008), only].

Mindset: Sees himself bound by fate and its will. As a result of Harvey's black-and-white worldviews, he considers his two-headed (scarred on one side) silver dollar a truly objective instrument of justice due to it only yielding two simple, 50/50 outcomes at the end of every coin toss.

"Some people go to the beach to forget their problems. They can watch the waves for hours. I understand the fascination.

There's a pattern – then there is no pattern.

It's the same with the coin. We want it all to mean something – we want to find the pattern – but in the final analysis, it's just waves."

— Harvey Dent, Secret Origins Special (1989) #1

•••

"He was always interested in the law – some might say obsessed. Man's law gave order to Harvey's world – they delineated the parameters of right and wrong, good and evil. They gave him something to believe in."

— Gilda Dent, Secret Origins Special (1989) #1

•••

Hugo Strange: Let's go back further, you were a rising star, a beacon of light for this city. A white knight riding in to save it with the Dark Knight not far behind.

Harvey Dent: You can leave him out of this. He is wrong. They all are. No one understands the beauty of fate's hand. I am grateful to Falcone. He gave me a clarity; a purity that few will know. Everything boils down to a simple choice, this way or that way, good... or bad.

Hugo Strange: Do you really believe that?

Harvey Dent: How could I not?

— Batman: Arkham City

•••

Batman: If you pull the trigger, how are you different from the Roman?

Harvey Dent: That's Jim Gordon talking. You know the system doesn't work. That justice can be decided like the flip of a coin.

— The Long Halloween

•••

"You thought we could be decent men in an indecent time... but you were wrong! The world is cruel. And the only morality in a cruel world is chance. Unbiased, unprejudiced, fair."

— Harvey Dent, The Dark Knight

•••

"Life's a lottery, Holman. It's chance that decides who lives and who dies. Who gets cancer. Which kid is born with spina bifida. Who gets run over by a truck.

This [the coin] is what decides whether or not I blow your wife's brains out."

— Harvey Dent, Joker's Asylum: Two-Face #1 

Teen Titans Spotlight (1987) #13

Character Traits:

🌗 Loving • Idealistic • Genuine • Principled • Resolute • Focused • Driven • Workaholic • Passionate • Eloquent • Wrathful • Obssessed • Brooding • Self-loathing • Black-and-white thinking • Dauntless • Fair • Honest (generally) • Man of his word • Learned helplessness (regarding the coin and his choices) • Self-destructive • Unpredictable • Hair-trigger temper • Can be persuaded • Charitable (depends on coin toss) • Takes his pain out on others • Self-enabling • Serious • Harsh • Intimidating ��� Vengeful • Physically violent • Self-aware • Conflicted • Feels remorse • Tries, but fails to improve as a person • Too Dependent on his coin • Fatalistic • Suicidal • Forgiving • Self-centered, but not selfish 🌗

Key Facts:

Harvey Dent...

• Had mental health issues long before his disfigurement [Batman Annual (1990 #14, Batman: The Animated Series - Episode 10, and Batman: Arkham City].

• His father physically abused him every day as a child. Christopher Dent used a double-headed coin to make Harvey believe he could "avoid" the beatings if the coin landed on the non-existent "tails" [Batman Annual #14].

• Bruce Wayne was his childhood friend [Rebirth universe & Batman: Nightwalker].

• Harvey "Legal Eagle" Dent was the top of his class [Secret Origins Special (1989) #1].

• Paid for his father's nice apartment [Batman: Two-Face (1995) - Crime & Punishment].

• Half of Harvey wanted to love his father, while the other half wished him dead. Despite everything, he tried to make peace with Christopher prior to the acid attack [Batman Annual #14].

• Never stopped loving/thinking about Gilda Dent when she disappeared from his life following the events of the Long Halloween [Batman (2006) #653 & Batman (2011) #712].

What's more, Harvey continued loving Gilda so much that he wound up murdering her second husband's killer in a pre-Long-Halloween continuity [Batman (1980) #329] because the man's death left Gilda grieving.

• Fun fact: The Power of Love helped him resist Poison Ivy's pheromones in the Dark Victory #11!

Begone, thot!

• Blamed Batman for what happened to him with Salvatore Maroni Carmine Falcone and the acid attack that scarred his face [Batman: Arkham Knight].

• Uses his coin to determine whether he should kill or spare his victims. Also, he has been known to perform acts of charity [Detective Comics (1942) #66 & Batman: The Silver Age Newspaper Comics Volume 3 (1969-1972)] sometimes.

• Loves and hates Gotham [Batman and Robin (2013) #23.1].

• Dislikes hypocrites [Batman: Two-Face (1995) - Crime and Punishment & The Spectre (2001) #5].

• Developed strong feelings for Renee Montoya in the Batman: No Man's Land storyline.

• Continued caring about Renee deeply, despite the events of Gotham Central (2003) #10 [Convergence: The Question #1-2].

Received training from Batman [Batman #653] and Deathstroke [Deathstroke (2018) #38].

• Has tried growing better as a person, but he keeps failing [Batman Annual #14 & Batman and Robin Adventures (1995) #1-2].

• Has re-scarred himself more than once [Batman Annual #14, Batman #653, and Batman: Black and White (1996) #1].

• For all his faults and crimes – such as nearly beating Dick Grayson to death in Robin: Year One – he has helped people [The Batman Chronicles (1999) #16], defended Jim Gordon from himself as Jim's defense lawyer [Detective Comics (1999) #739], cares about the women in his life, and keeps his word when the coin comes up good.

He is a complex character, period.

Other Facts:

• Has seen Cocteau's "Beauty and the Beast" [Batman (1986) #397].

• Knows how to sculpt [Detective Comics (1986) #563].

• Owns a "thememobile" like Batman [Batman (1987) #410]!

• Likes baseball [Batman (1987) #411].

• Likes symmetry [Batman (1989) #442].

Smokes, but also doesn't [Batman (1994) #513].

"My own version of the literary reference mark known as a diesis – more commonly known as a double-dagger! My next pair shall strike to the heart of the matter!" — Harvey Dent, Batman: Two-Face Strikes Twice #1 – the words of a man who certainly reads a lot!

Batman Annual #14 & Teen Titans Spotlight #13 – A himbo he is not!

• Reads classic books such as "Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde" [Detective Comics #66] and "A Tale of Two Cities" [Batman: Two-Face Strikes Twice #2].

• Still finds putting criminals behind bars fun [Batman Gotham Adventures (1999) #12].

• Can speak Spanish [The Batman Chronicles #16].

• Doesn't mind hitting women at all. There are so many examples of this; Harvey confirmed it himself [Batman: Streets of Gotham (2009) #7], and beat up Jim Gordon's wife in Batman (1999) #572.

• Made a self-insert comic book in an art therapy program. Yup, he wrote and drew it himself [Detective Comics (2001) #753]!

Called it "The Adventures of Copernicus Dent and His Best Girl and Plucky Assistant R'Nee!" 

• Plays chess with Batman [Gotham Knights (2002) #32].

• Has watched Star Trek [Nightwing (2008) #150].

• Fought and killed a werewolf [The 2008 DC Universe Halloween Special]. Yes, really.

• Was a cult leader [Detective Comics (2020) #1020].

• Rebirth!Harvey is now working as a jailhouse lawyer in Blackgate [Detective Comics (2020) #1024].

• Understands how binary code works, but computer geeks make him sick? [Robin (1994) #11] Yeah.

• Has kids. Twins! [Batman: Two-Faces Strikes Twice]. It looks like they're irrelevant.

• Remembered Renee's birthday and sent her tulips [Detective Comics (2000) #747].

• Has been a judge before [The New Batman Adventures - Episode 24 & Arkham Unhinged (2013) #11].

• Hates odd-numbers [Robin: Year One #2].

[steve0discusses]

S5 Ep6: Joey Wheeler is on Fire, Yet Again

Came down with a little sickness-not the biggie, just a little sly guy. But I took some meds, I’m a little floaty, I’ve only been listening to baroque music all morning for some reason? And I hate baroque music usually? But I’ll leave it to bro to tell me if this is fluid enough.

Just so you know, these caps were kind of a hot mess for a while and some of them read like that Garfield in of hot eat the food comic until...today. So pls don’t judge me, Judge my damn DMV where no one was following Covid regulations because I’m pretty sure that’s where I got this damn cold.

We start off with Roland getting more attention than he ever has in his entire life. Like honestly, I don’t know what Roland’s job really is...but he’s got a very diverse set of very useless skills. One of which, is knowing how to announce sports games that aren’t really a sport, while those games he’s announcing slowly fall into chaos.

Anyway, Roland’s taking so long cherishing his sweet time before everything goes to hell, that he’s boring Joey, who’s kinda turned into a ball of stress in the waiting room.

A lot of this episode is us watching them watching Joey having a break down moment by moment, TBH.

(read more under the cut)

Yugi telling Joey to study his cards and straight up--what?

Like at this point they know what’s on the cards, right? Like there comes a point where even Yugioh cards have a finite amount of words and I’m just going to assume that like...Joey probably knows them all in his own deck, right?

(bro note: they have no limit on what they will put on a card)

Then again, maybe Yugi doesn’t know what “study” means?

Also, appreciate how some artist crosshatched the hell on Joey’s nose there and I zoomed out and ruined it.

Now for some reason every duelist is hanging out in the duel lodge, including our current arch-villain guy who’s brought a book. I want to know what book this guy even reads so no one could suspect he’s actually a hacker who uses computers. He’s reading romance, right? And I don’t think he’d even be into Twilight, I think he’s straight up into hard core Mom romance like a lame ass Nicholas Sparks over there reading “Dear John��� for the millionth time because he is completely un-phased by anything else happening in this room.

Joey, our hero, just out there being an asshole for no reason.

After Tea is pushed into a locker or something screaming about her need for female friends (which she screamed in earshot of Rebecca again, who I figured was on friends terms with her after last episode...but I guess not) Leon hops up to remind us that we should be caring about the fact that his character exists.

And like, I love Leon’s hair color--that’s a good choice, and legit that is the color I tried to dye my hair at the beginning of the epidemic (it didn’t work PS, my hair cannot take dye for the life of it) but also like...he just kinda feels like a weak Rebecca as far as characters go. He’s young, he’s good at cards...I think he goes to a private school? That’s all I can think of about Leon.

He mostly just reminds us that the big prize of this tourney is to duel Yugi, who anyone could have dueled at any point even without the tournament.

On the way out of the...duel room? lounge? Area? Joey decides to like...make peace with Zigfried, and I gotta tell you, I kinda have to side with Zigfried, because Joey spent the last ten minutes being a freak in the dressing room/lounge/bathroom and at one point looked like he was going to hold the entire locker room in a stranglehold.

I would also want some space from Joey Wheeler, is what I’m saying.

After insulting Joey’s style (which honestly, Joey...has a style? He pops his collar, that’s his entire style.) Zigfried assures us that Joey’s gonna lose and like...

...probably, right? Just looking at the plausible direction this season will go.

Anyway, Joey is such a mess (which is the theme of the episode, that Joey needs to learn to chill in order to win at card games) that Rebecca is like “I understand if all of you leave me to go help our poor baby Joey.” And no one felt bad for her.

Mokuba comes over to tell everyone all of the Kaiba family secrets because Mokuba has no filter.

Seto has devoted himself to staring at a computer screen for the rest of this episode. I guess he’ll put their names into Google, realize that social media hasn’t been invented yet, and then just lie his head down on the desk and take a power nap until the tournament is over. Much like I did after taking Dayquil this afternoon.

I like how Seto dressed for success and then locked himself in the server room for most of this arc so far. Maybe he’s just...really tired, I dunno. I don’t really blame the guy, he’s had a hard time.

And then Yugi was like “DAMN IT MOKUBA, JUST ONCE CAN YOU NOT INVITE THE ILLUMINATI???”

And we had a weird scene where Yugi just started talking to the ghost and it was while he was talking to everyone else, and the show didn’t treat it like that’s a weird thing to do...but it was a weird thing to do.

This show does that sometimes, where I guess they imply that Yugi’s Pharaoh conversations are split second conversations but...they’re not, right?

Also this chick ain’t gone yet, and Mokuba is just failing at his entire job for not zeroing in on vibes coming off this chick like stinky cheeseman.

So listen.

Did the Kaibas make like 3 types of Blue Eyes Caboose to one up Noah? Because Noah made one choo choo dragon, and then Mokuba and Seto were like “how dare” and then made sure that everyone ride every single version of the blue eyes caboose just to see how proud of them they were.

How many months of troubleshooting was the train? Like how long in development did Seto and Mokuba spend on these? A lot right? Like most of the time?

I did not check the subs to see if Roland said Jumping or Champion but I like to believe that Roland thought it was a cool new name he gave him.

Then these guys all showed up.

Hey so...can we talk seating arrangements?

Tea decided not to sit next to Yugi after complaining about not spending time with him for like how many episodes? Or was it too awkward to sit on top of what was probably Pharaoh?

Or did Mokuba go like “please, Tea, I cannot sit next to the others because I’m pretty sure one is a mole that is about to go cray” and was Tea like “Good, I need female friends, these ones are driving me crazy!” and then was Mokuba like peering desperately over the edge of his self made dragon train prison realizing he has to listen to Tea complain about boys for the rest of his ride across molten lava?

Headcanons abound about this weird seating arrangement that the animators drew for the reasons they did...but reasons I cannot fully understand. That and the Dayquil is making me overfixate on random stuff.

And also, Tea is kind of the Kaiba’s security’s understudy. Just there to always protect Mokuba with her ass because she’s the strongest woman alive.

PS I missed the tumblr wars because at the time I was trying to like...run a proper business on blogger. When Blogger died and I jumped over here it was like a weird ruin where everyone was like “tumblr is the most toxic place alive” and...I’ve had a really nice time here, actually. Completely missed that civil war period and I have no regrets.

Now I was there for the Petz wars (warz, I guess) where people were very militant about Petz abuse (abuze?) where apparently people were using the spray bottle on their catz too much and people were very, very upset about it to the point that they were like campaigning about it on their angelfire websites with the most bizarre grassroots campaigns that I still recall, to this day because they were like...well they looked like this:

PLAPA. Not only am I 100% positive that only this one guy ever called this movement PLAPA, but I’m 100% positive that not only are Catz not real people, but also this wasn’t actually happening and we never had any proof that it was. Either way, if people knew or suspected that you hadn’t deleted the spray bottle from your game (which at the time I had no idea how to do because I was a wee child) they would basically assume you were on a one way road to being a mass murderer in real life.

In real life we were 7 years old so like...thanks?

But that’s the closest I got to toxicity and at the time I was too young to make an email account and actually converse with these people. I was just there to download their Petz hexes, and I already made a post about how wonderful and incredible Petz Hexing was.

And y’all, I heard, just now after a little deep dive into the Petz Abuse debacle (which yes, is on the wiki), that apparently, like gardening, Petz Hexing came back in a big way during the epidemic--and I have found an active Petz forum in this the year 2021. The only problem is that I no longer remember how to use old timey forums...and I think I’m locked out of seeing most of these threads (and like this forum is so old I think I have to send them a letter in the physical mail to apply). But, I’m pretty sure they’re hosting a picture contest for who’s dogz poses the best. And I’m pretty sure someone created a hexxed Pickle Rick. Or it’s a photoshop that was made to look like a hexxed Pickle Rick.

Dammit why did it have to be Pickle Rick? That’s not worth re-installing Petz and getting it to run on Windows 10...

Guys is this the Dayquil? Is this really happening? I feel like I’m losing my mind for so many reasons...

Anyway, speaking about useless hexing it’s about time that our villain did something that was actually dangerous, so Zigfried decided to install a new virus that does more than turn off the lights. (it still turns off lights)

the Spreadsheet Virus!

Confounded by the spreadsheet software, it...um...it does this:

Straight up how does Excel make a volcano erupt? Is that why I have to pay for Microsoft office now?

All this because Joey made fun of Zigfried’s naturally pink hair? Which is the most normal hair on this series outside of like...Tristan?

Hey guys...Joey’s fine, right? Like how many times has Joey been on fire? And once in an iron cage next to like...a Fire Golem?

Joey’s fine.

MAN I miss Fire Golem. He had a good mug.

And then we just kinda watch chaos go across the park, chaos that includes: Too many ghosts in the haunted mansion (which honestly--you’ll get your money’s worth, sounds great!), the Ferris wheel goes kinda fast and thus might accidentally be fun, the lights turn off at some concert stage that only had 2 people on it (so it might just be motion detector lights and not even a virus), and um...literal fire and magma are going to set Joey Wheeler on fire.

Just...one of these events does not seem like the others. In fact most of these things sound like good improvements to the park and they should just hire Zigfried at this point.

Roland puts down his microphone and jogs across the stage, about a mile through the audience bleachers, and into the staff lounge, to go and bother Seto Kaiba, who is in a room that has a hi-def classical painting copy-pasted on the wall and I can’t look away from it.

I almost did a Google search on this painting but then thought better about it. There’s like...a billion classical paintings that look exactly like this, and they wouldn’t use like a Monet, they would have to do something that’s harder to catch to avoid copyright issues (because yes, even old ass paintings have copyright issues, but no one tell NFT’s which are going to be so freakin screwed and was such a bad idea, that I can’t even start).

Anyway, I have no idea who it is and it is legitimately driving me up a wall, but I’m on too much meds to do the effort of putting it in a reverse google image search.

Plus, a reverse google image search would only pull up Seto Kaiba.

So Kaiba takes us on a little flashback to his weird ass past, a weird ass past that just...doesn’t follow any of the established timelines, but I assume was shortly after adoption but before Seto got into a phase where he wore his school outfit everywhere and tried to shove his MMO off onto his Dad as a business model.

Seto is like 8 for some reason. I don’t know why, they kinda drew him younger this season anyway, like maybe they got a lot of fan mail and realized “Hey I think we made the 16 yo boy too sexy?” And they just toned Seto the hell down. That, and it’s a different animation team, and maybe they looked at Seto’s character design and were like “we don’t get paid enough to draw this well.” So...since Seto actually looks like a teen again, I guess his 12 year old self has to look like he’s in Elementary school.

Also, I only recognized this, because at some point in S3 as I was roasting Noah Kaiba’s weird fashion:

I remember distinctly roasting that little bow tie. I don’t remember when I wrote it, I think there was a version of this outfit that was in color...but I don’t remember where.

Anyway, it’s not the same jacket...but man that’s kind of awkward, ya? Like the maid who dressed Mokuba deffo got fired?

He um.

Turned the lights off a little bit.

Guys this villain is like...

...why does he think lights are scary? Like look at little Seto here. The boy is already bored. Seto duels on the edges of cliffs...he doesn’t care about the freakin dark.

We had a guy who killed everyone on the planet last season, and this season we have a little fashion gremlin standing in the corner and flicking the light switch going  “wooooo you never catch me!” and it’s like...

...I’m starting to think this guy isn’t a witch.

Like we’re at Episode 6, there’s still time for this guy to be a witch...but I really am starting to think this guy is just...straight up not a witch. It’s everything Seto wanted, a rival who isn’t a freakin magic person...and sets Joey only fake on fire instead literally on fire like last time...

and Seto is just completely unhinged by it.

Anyway, I’m off to go drink a bowl of soup and pass out. If you’re new here, this is a link to read these in chrono order.

https://steve0discusses.tumblr.com/tagged/yugioh/chrono

[hawaiian-has-moved]

you aren’t cannon. beetlebabes is more cannon than you. at least that shit was in the musical and movie and cartoon.

Need I remind you idiots, since I have already said I'm no longer being nice to you anymore.

That I do not give a damn what you think it looked like to you in that fucked up brain of yours, it's still p*dophilia. Man it's almost sad I live this rent free in your head for existing. I just exist and your blood boils. It's cute.

Anyway, Lydia is a minor in every version.

And if you think the wedding in the movie was romantic. Man every gross man I've cringed at for being a creepo must have been true love.

But see, that's the thing you people don't get huh? Consent. Consent does not exist to you. If it did you wouldn't fight when people say that Lydia is a minor and therefore cannot consent. It doesn't click because you found something hot about shipping this developing teen with this old as fuck perv.

But oh? Is that not enough for you, you cry, begging to justify your vile ship. Allow me to humor you and go through the other versions.

In fact! I'll analyze a whole song just for you.

Also please look at yet another picture of Lydia obviously not having it.

Way back when I was just ten

Simple and sweet

Everywhere, fellas would stare

Out on the street

And I felt used

Kinda confused

I would refuse to look in their eyes

But now I really love creepy old guys

This is kinda obvious, she's been preyed on before by men. So basic p*do trying to gr**m a kid scenario. But the satire to the song of course is that "it's all fine now" Which it's obviously not, she's just using this to trick him so they can send him back as an end goal.

We all do!

Gum disease

Skin like grilled cheese

Saggy old asses

(Saggy old asses)

Cute and vile

Hey baby, smile

To each girl that passes

They make me blush

(Can't get enough)

Now one of 'em loves me, wants to be mine

(That's right)

Marrying my own creepy old guy!

(I'm a creepy old guy)

This is just more playing out the satire of pretending it's okay, but with Beej chiming in because he already lacks the knowledge that this is grooming and it's not okay. Tricking him into thinking this is fine to end up killing him is a breeze.

My creepy old guy, my creepy old guy

I'm so happy I could cry

Girls may seem disgusted, but we're actually just shy

It's not uncommon that I've heard about or heard someone get told that they're just shy when a gross ass old man or someone is trying to gr**m a kid. It's gaslighting and manipulation in most cases. So for them to say that it's because they're actually just shy as part of the satire is the point.

My creepy old groom (creepy old groom)

Play that wedding tune

Hey folks, step aside

(I am older, but I'm glad I waited)

And if you've watched a bootleg, you would recall Barbara right here smiling and then turning away with eyes wide, like "this is not fucking okay" Kind of look on her face. But yeah this is another one of those phrases that you hear too often in these gross situations.

'Cause here comes the bride

I am marrying my creepy old guy

(Creepy old guy, creepy old guy, creepy old guy)

He's my creepy old guy

(Creepy old guy, creepy old guy, creepy old guy!)

Fix his hair

Get him prepared

For Armageddon

Again if you have seen a bootleg, here Lydia puts a finger to her lips and goes shhhh. Because Armageddon is Beejs death.

Sure, the groom

Crawled out of a tomb

But hey, hey, it's a wedding!

He's really fucking old guys. There is a huge age gap and this is p*dophilia.

So dim the lights

Pick up some rice

Say something nice

It's my day to shine

I'm getting hitched to my creepy old guy

(It's showtime)

Creepy old guy, creepy old guy

She's marrying a creepy old guy

Have you guys seen "Lolita"?

This is just like that, but fine

I have not seen Lolita, but I have been told it's similar to this who marriage scenario and is mega bad. Now if it were Lolita fashion, that is made to ward off men, so I assume it's a movie from what info I have.

Creepy old dude, creepy old dude

Our faith has been renewed

Now love is alive!

Wave your baby girl goodbye

I am walking down the aisle

I wanna see a tear in every eye as I pass by

I know that on the outside he's disgusting

And even on the inside, he's disgusting

This whole scenario is fucking vile. He's vile.

But I know that this time, I'm makin' it right

(Making it right, making it right!)

With my family by my side

O.M.G.

Dressed to a "T"

Fancy and formal

I found me a wife

L'chaim to life

This is so normal!

I was ignored

But now, I'm adored!

'Cause I extorted, tortured, and lied

Give it up for my underage bride!

They've done it, they have successfully tricked him into thinking this is okay with no funny business. But he's about to get stabbed. L'chaim to life is a nod at him being Jewish, also he had a Kippah in the DC version which backed this joke, but it fell off a lot ig so he doesn't have it now. Traditionally there was a lot of marrying women off to much older men for property and stuff, as most religions do/did tho. I was in a production of Fiddler on the roof for example and that was the whole premise.

Here comes the bride

Here comes the bride

God be glorified

I can't believe some cultures think this kind of thing's alright

My creepy old guy

My creepy old guy

Doesn't he deserve a chance at life?

Oh yeah, that's right

Yeah, that's right

So let's make him alive!

I am marrying my creepy old guy!

Guy, guy, guy, creepy old guy

Guy, guy, creepy old guy

Guy, guy

(I have chills)

Yeah!

And then they stab him and the till death do we part sign over the stage all makes sense now because the wedding vows are undone and since he's recently deceased he almost returns to the netherworld.

Etcetera etcetera... But of course you guys go tome deaf at that one when it plays if I remember right.

Oh right, the cartoon, of course, I knew just what you were thinking don't worry. You're thinking "oh well what about the comics, and the valentine cards! And and the animators who drew lewd stuff of Lydia!" Well.... Haha! Still p*dophilia! And also I have seen the infamous Lydia drawing and it's got her head shape, nose, lips, but it's not fully her. Even if it was again my first point, still p*dophilia. And yeah just because the people who worked on it drew it, doesn't make it suddenly okay. Ffs...

I couldn't even find a cartoon wedding that wasn't fan drawn to match this one. Because that doesn't exist! But I do have my favorite point to make.

Beetlejuice's look into Lydia's future in Pest O' the West.

Now why you b*bes were busy being p*dos and gr**ming kids on the internet into thinking this shit is okay, I was mastering the art of common fucking sense.

Beej makes a joking remark that he cannot see into the future while hiding from Bully the Crud, but when he does as per usual, his puns and phrases make his magic go to work. So a crystal ball appears in front of him showing the future in the images I've provided.

Lydia, doing a heaping pile of dishes as a ghost for bully and all of their kids, very unhappy and driven insane. Because imagine what being married to someone it's obviously wrong to be with would do to her mind. He hates seeing her like this, so he rushes to save her. Which he successfully does.

Toon is actually the one with canon evidence of this shit being not okay to him.

Also before anyone tries to say it, no the movie and cartoon aren't connected, she doesn't even live in Winter River in the cartoon that should have made it obvious. Besides she's like 14-16 in the movie. So I don't think she de-aged.

Lastly, two things that are off topic. I believe it's spelled canon, and before anyone goes saying fiction doesn't effect reality, I would like you to explain to me how being a Jedi is a official religion if that is so true.

See anon! I gave you my special, condescending talk that too two hours to type on my phone! You stalked me endlessly and I picked you as the special anon that, I didn't deletes ask for being a gross piece of shit in a minors ask box! Wow. That searching my name clicking on my asks, and typing out all that so I could live rent free in your head really.... Didn't work lol. I may have took two hours to type this, but I assure you I will forget about you in 2 days max. Because unlike you, I have better things to do than ship a minor with an ancient demon. Bye bye now, be sure to rant about me with pure rage to your house p*do friends so that my existence may spread further into other people's minds! Woo... Being famous is so tough. 😉

[toonqueen]

24. Condemned Duck

Oh boy I have a whole headcanon with Gladstone’s luck that it has some unusual origins but I wanna finish a few stories about it so I don’t really wanna give spoilers. Ahhh. Well, let me explain my headcanon of what I have going on for his Negaverse version and work from there. In my stories if I ever finish at least the first three. I have Magica and Gladstone go on the path to figure out just where Gladstone’s magic came from. Part of the way they start to figure it out is by looking at what’s up with Negaverse Gladstone’s luck. Though the Negaverse is the opposite in many ways there is a lot of the stuff that is the same. So it helps them find a place to start in their investigation

ON TO HEADCANONS---

My Negaverse headcanon Nega Gladstone has an almost demonic nature and consumes luck much like how Paddywack feeds on negative feelings. Nega Glad’s mom was the same, as was this grandmother (The Elvira Coot side of the fam Grandmother that is.) They consider it to be a consumption curse that their family has had for centuries, with once every generation having someone in that Coot line getting it. Now this is new information to Prime Gladstone, since he thought it just started with his mother and then him. And all because of the distelfink on the barn- made by a random guy painting the barn. What.

In the Negaverse the barn’s distelfink has two of the bird heads scratched out on it, while one is faded. Nega- Gladstone explains in their universe it is a curse that made things worse for them. While they had already been luck eaters for centuries in the Coot family, the distelfink made it worse for his Mother, Him, and his Daughter. It added a new thing to their luck eating curse, that any new generations from his Mother on had to eat a certain amount of luck by the time they are 7 or they die. (might do it as 13 but 7 makes even more dire asap.) Where I write the story at Nega Gladstone and Prime Glad have daughters with their Magica’s that just turned six. DRAMA. 

Anyways, what's going on in the Negaverse gives Prime Magica and Gladstone a little insight on what's going on their own. It becomes clear that their Grandma Duck has a little luck of her own. No where near Gladstone and his Mother’s. This leads them to conclude that like how the Negaverse Coots had the luck eating since forever, there was a line of Coot in the Primeverse that always had the luck as well. The Distelfink instead of cursing that luck even more as in the Negaverse, instead made the luck they already had MORE powerful. And magnifying with every child after it existed. Gladstone’s mom’s luck wasn’t as strong as Gladstone’s, and his daughter’s is much stronger than his, to the point it was becoming a threat. (Hence why Magica started to research it.)

You would think that making luck stronger each generation would be a good thing but they also find out there is more devious stuff going on with that as well. Dun Dun DUN. I guess spoiler if I ever do get stories posted because this is a slightly major twisty twist: Magica and Gladstonefind out they have tried to research the luck before but have no memory of previous attempts. DUN DUN DUN. 

Man- and I had this all plotted out before the Solitude of the Four Leaf Clover comic and that kinda fits in my theory of shady shit going down cuz OH MAN when Fethry had avoided Gladstone of ALL PEOPLE FETHRY who I thought would always have Gladstone’s back, well- now I can blame it on, ‘Maybe the Distelfink isn’t a GOOD thing.” And maybe it was making his fam kinda forget him a bit in that comic. GAWD. 

Anyways. Weird stuff going on. HA. Also here is a random pic I drew of the three heads of the Distelfink being the handles on swords and maybe doing a little stabby stab. Lawd I can’t remember what I wrote there translates too. I think something like ‘Fortuna will get what is owed.” 

SWEATS.

[mwolf0epsilon]

First off, before everyone comes after my butt with their "No Fun Allowed" and "Cringe" signs, this is in no way something to be taken as gospel or insightful. It's not a prophetic enforcement of canon. It's literally a theory done for fun, and to try to piece the Bendy Crack up Comics into the general and messy lore of the BatIM franchise. 

Most of you get this and don't need a big wordy warning about fanon interpretation, but a lot of peculiar people tend to show up in my ask box hoping to start a fuss over my headcanons and AU ideas, so I thought to be nice and leave a polite and diplomatic "Kindly Fuck Off" sign at the door for them.

With that said, there will be mild spoilers, carry on of your own volition, down below under the cut that will definitely show up because Tumblr mobile is a functional app that's never given me trouble!!!

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[[MORE]]

The Bendy Franchise has an established issue with cohesion in its lore. We all know what I'm talking about, we all have reservations about canonical character discrepancies (game vs novel vs guidebook) and we all have been racking our brains with a few holes in the timeline, as well as how BatDR (which is neither prequel nor sequel) will fit into this, since it's connected to BatDS and that's an established prequel to BatIM.

Granted I myself am missing a lot of pieces, having to scrounge around for info since I can't really get any of the reading material myself and rely heavily on @british-hero (who owns the novel plus got her copy of the comics yesterday), a very incomplete wikie, and analysis and theories from SuperHorrorBro's Bendy videos.

Heck, I also rely on a lot of gameplay footage, because BatIM has a bit of subtle storytelling through visual design of its levels, and hints of how certain characters work through a few game mechanics.

Through this mishmash of collecting puzzle pieces for the greater picture I even have a few notes on my phone to piece together certain events in established dates, something which comes very in handy for this theory since it talks about two particular characters, the Projectionist and Brute Boris (and I guess Twisted Alice to some extent but it's more of a note on some interesting thoughts I have of her).

Without further ado, here's what this theory is all about: Why did Norman become the Projectionist, and why did Twisted Alice turn Buddy Boris into Brute Boris?

If you think about it, there's only two creatures in the studio that really seem out of place in the world of BatIM, and that's Prophet Sammy and the Projectionist. Neither are inherently similar to any of the cartoon characters, nor are they considered to be Lost Ones. They're certainly not Searchers, but while we know Sammy is unique because his method of transformation was different, we never got an explanation for Norman's. It could be that it's a process similar to BatDR's new enemy type that's larger and seems to have bits and bobs stuck to it, but then those big guys seem like the equivalent to Swollen Searchers for the Lost Ones. The Projectionist doesn't really fit the puzzle.

Or at least he didn't.

With the introduction of the Crack up Comics collection, we get three new characters that were definitely designed in the same manner that the Butcher Gang was. Beginning with a corrupt monster forms and then giving way to perfect and pristine rubberhose toon forms.

I'm talking about Miss Twisted, the Brute, and Cameraman.

The villainous trio from the Souper Boris comic strip.

To us it's obvious the artists created them in parallel to Twisted Alice, Brute Boris and the Projectionist, but to the actual canon this actually has a bit of an impact on the Projectionist's existence.

Why, you ask? Because those characters were introduced between 1936 and 1940.

Bendy Crack up Comics table of contents, showcasing the publishing dates of the strips.

For anyone who doesn't know (either from not paying attention to the Joey Drew Studios channel audio logs, or from not owning the books) the Ink Machine wasn't conceptualized or installed until 1942/1943. Putting that into perspective, the only other thing that happened in Joey Drew Studios in 1940, was the conceptualization of Bendyland (which is likely the origin of the idea for the Ink Machine itself).

This means that Cameraman existed well before the Projectionist ever came to be, and that made me think about another thing: The Ink's apparent sentience.

I'll be frank, the Ink is very hard nut to crack. I consider it a form of alchemized entity, others consider it pure black magic, and I'm pretty sure Joey Drew himself had no idea what he was dealing with when he began using it. The fact of the matter is that the Ink is alive and that it has its own agenda. One that coincides with Joey's, out of mutual interest.

In the novels it seems to want to be free, but it can't exactly do that as a formless liquid, so it tries to body-snatch people (ex: Sammy and Buddy's grandpa).

When Joey tries to use it to give life to Bendy through nothing more than using the Ink and a template (likely a character model sheet) the Ink tries to follow the model but immediately becomes a distorted humanoid version of it (which honestly rings so many fucking alarm bells on its own). Things… Escalate there on out, with Joey trying to perfect the method and only managing to succeed through Daniel Lewek (and many other nameless Boris Clones), Allison Pendle and Thomas Connor.

An important thing to take from this, however, is that by trying to perfect this method Joey not only taught the Ink to reshape things into viable referenced material, but that he had to have lost control of just how many souls were being pumped through the Ink Machine for him to monitor and keep up.

Sammy started killing people when he completely turned, and it didn't seem to take long for him to cut down people in likely both the music and art departments. At this point he had no self-restraint and was completely wrapped around inky fingers and Joey's lies. 

Norman is one such potential victim, and Dot and Buddy even passed by his ink-wrapped body while fleeing.

Now, the thing about trying to follow a specific guide and not having the actual means to make it exactly the same thing, is an easy enough notion to get (as shows like "Nailed It", and years of trying to perfect visual style mimicry, have taught me).

The Ink likely had the template it needed (maybe a printed copy of Souper Boris that got thrown around in the chaos), the insight of what Norman's role in the studio was, the amount of mass it needed to consume and transform his dead body, but not exactly the right sort of… Centerpiece for it...

Cameraman using his lens to light up his path.

But what's a projector besides a bigger fancier camera? Both blink, both take film, same thing right? The ink doesn't see the difference and just stitches together this humanoid bootleg cameraman with the pieces it finds that are similar enough.

Mechanical blinky head? Check.

Strange round disc near the belly? There's a speaker. That's round! Check.

Film? There we go, a nice big round reel full of film in it, let's put it near the head, that's how it works right? Check.

Lastly, no Joey to actually direct this artistic recreation of a one-off character. The Ink did it all by itself while he was off getting his hand broken by a rightfully upset Buddy Boris.

If you look at it objectively it makes sense that being the projectionist tasked with not only recording and maintaining the projectors themselves, that the entity in the Ink would pick Cameraman as a template for Norman's transformed self.

It also makes sense that the Projectionist is so off-putting in the studio. He's almost perfect, but not quite because there just weren't the right materials. He's stuck in between Twisted Alice and the Butcher Gang clones as another failed recreation.

Moving on to the next question on why Twisted Alice turn Buddy Boris into Brute Boris, when she hadn't done the same to any of the other Boris Clones.

It's hard to say really, but I think it all comes down to who Twisted Alice really is. It's very likely that, as Susie Campbell, she would have knowledge of the comic strips. A few were most likely made into cartoon shorts even (which isn't an unusual assumption to make), and maybe Susie voiced a few background characters for said shorts.

Susie may have lost her role as Alice, but before Joey came to her with his proposition for the "special project" it's very likely that she remained in the studio, forced to do the voices of characters that weren't noteworthy or that she felt completely disconnected from (talking chairs and singing hens really don't become beloved fan-favourites) . Maybe if the Souper Boris story was made into a short, she might have voiced Miss Twisted (which honestly would be personally insulting considering she once had the role of the main heroine).

Point is, Susie knows her lore, and that translates to Twisted Alice's repertoire of insightful knowledge on the abominations lurking around the studio.

She never did turn other Boris clones into brutish lackeys because at the time she didn't need to. But it doesn't mean she hadn't considered it. Henry's disruptive behaviour is just what she needed to put that plan into motion.

There was already a "Cameraman" walking about, one that could easily rip apart anything it came across, so acquiring the means to recreate the "Brute" would have been benefiting from her point of view. The Projectionist doesn't take orders and can't be reasoned with, so if she could make something just as strong that took her orders she could, theoretically, be safe from most terrors in the studio. If that didn't work, she would still likely send others to their death by simply sending them down to Level 14, or maybe lure the Projectionist to them herself (just because he doesn't take orders doesn't mean she can't use him to achieve her end goals).

Miss Twisted, the Brute and Cameraman in their evil swamp lair.

But why Buddy Boris specifically? Why couldn't she have used any of the bodies laying around? Freshness most likely. Rigor mortis is probably still a thing, even for living cartoons. Easier to work a fresh dead body than a bunch of stiff wolves.

That's at least why I think Brute Boris is a thing. Susie's knowledge of most Bendy cartoon/comic strip characters, taking inspiration from the Projectionist's presence, and honestly a very twisted sense of humor and irony. In her quest to become a Perfect Alice, the heroine of the show, she ended up becoming just as antagonistic (although more sadistic) as Miss Twisted, a Bendy comic strip villainess.

[niko-jpeg]

The SAVEd Project Master-Ish Post

“The SAVEd: A self proclaimed “team” of four surviving beings from scrapped, destroyed or collapsed AUs who managed to SAVE shortly before the destruction of said AU, allowing them to exist in a blank void of nothing as something similar to Outcodes. Thanks to the work of W, they were able to meet under very strange circumstances… These four more often than not go by the names ‘Beta’, ‘Ai’, ‘Mist’, and ‘W’.”

Howdy! It's me, Jpeg, and that weird description of a group that I just wrote is a rough run down of the dumbest idea for a project yet. I titled it “the SAVEd project” and if you read the description above, then it may be clear why. In this semi Masterpost (more like a concept post) I’m going to list the characters and their overall bios. If you don't care about this, then I understand. If you don't feel like reading all of it at once, I’ll link the individual posts at another given point in time.

It is also likely that the plot for the project will be written out a while before I make a black and white comic version of it so I have more time to get the character designs down and until then, feel free to ask questions if you're interested. And if youre not and you think Im a stupid wanna be, then thats fine too. I don't care.

In case it is not obvious, this is a fan project made by someone who's not the greatest with digital art since I still don't really know how to use my art program. Ai is the only truly original character of mine and was not based on anyone. Beta, Mist, and W are my takes on characters and the non existent AUs they're from belong to me, but the concept for Gaster, Chara, and Sans belong to Toby Fox. I hope that makes sense. Anyway, I'm going to go in that order too. Beta, Ai, Mist, and W. That's also the order I drew them in lol. Anyway, enjoy (sorry about the fact that this is inevitably going to be a very looooooooooooong post).

Name: “Beta” Dreemurr

Age: 11 (Incapable of aging)

Gender: Male

Soul Type: Red (Determination) fading into Light Blue (Patience)

Physical Features: Hair covers left eye, and scar covers right. He can see through his right eye, just like Frisk can even though their eyes also appear to be closed. Baggy jumper that resembles Classic Chara’s sweater. Locket was a gift from his AUs Asriel. Always walks around barefoot, and is the shortest of the group (not shown to scale in the drawing above). Does not appear to have a mouth physically, no one has any idea how that's supposed to work or if he uses photosynthesis or not-

Personality: Mute, but very expressive otherwise. Likes defenestrating people he doesn't like and is pretty chaotic. Can be chill and a good child sometimes. Sometimes. Always wandering off.

Name: Ai

Age: 16 (Incapable of aging)

Gender: Female

Soul Type: Green (Kindness)

Physical Features: Fluffy medium length tan-ish hair and light blue-grey eyes. Where's a pure white dress and leggings and white boots. Gold star hairpiece is a solidified SAVE point.

Personality: Tries to be serious and the ‘mature adult’ of the group even though there is in fact a real adult in the group. Was kind of adopted by W. Has a very dirty sense of humor and swears a lot.

Name: Mist

Age: 18

Gender: Male

Soul Type: Purple (Perseverance) but like, monster

Physical Features: Looks like any other sans, albeit a little shorter and younger. Sewed jacket and scarf. As he was homeschooled by his very busy father (W) he had a lot of down time in between lessons. (A note about their family. Papyrus is not present in the timeline as he was sent to train with Undyne in the capital. Mist and Papyrus were adopted by W at a young age when they were abandoned by their parents, their father being W’s brother. Papyrus’ nickname is Vapor.)

Personality: Overall relaxed and very dedicated to spending every waking moment of his life doing something. He can't just not do something. Mah bois a little hyperactive. Loves creating things and reading, overall the most open minded and creative of the group. Usually the one coming up with crazy plans and sometimes they even work. Has the slightest bit of survivor's guilt.

Name: “W”.D Gaster

Age: No one really knows...

Gender: Male (He/They)

Soul Type: Gold (Justice) but like, monster

Physical Features: One cracked down the front of his face, the other painted on because he thought it’d be funny. Usually wearing a labcoat of sorts and always keeps I.D on him, even after his AU collapsed. Golden eyes represent his soul type technically speaking, just as Mist’s Purple eyes represent his.

Personality: Tries to be the serious responsible adult but just cant hack it. Will get revenge on people who have previously hurt him or his children. Dad jokes galore. Mist is constantly asking him to not embarrass him in front of his friends and W takes it as a challenge. Sciency and overall just a dad friend, but literally. Rather than the usual "OooO spoopy scary bad dad man" hes "OOOOOOOOOO I see LIGHT am I dead?" crack head energy when hes not trying to set a good example for Mist and the others.

This post took all day to write and I poured two hours of work into each of these pieces of art, so I would appreciate if this post doesn't go to complete waste. So if you made it this far, thank you! If you have any questions, I think my asks are working? I dunno no ones ever asked me anything.

[davidmann95]

So... Morrison’s 10 part interview on All-Star Superman, along with all other older Newsarama articles, just seem to have ceased to exist. One does not simply live without having those interviews available to reread... Can I find them anywhere else?

Rejoice! I finally borrowed a computer I could put my flash drive into, and emailed myself my copy of the Morrison interview. Here it is below the cut, copied and pasted direct from the source way back when, available again at last:

Three years, 12 issues, Eisners and countless accolades later, All Star Superman is finally finished. The out-of-continuity look at Superman’s struggle with his inevitable death was widely embraced by fans and pros as one of the best stories to feature the Man of Steel, and was a showcase for the talents of the creative team of Grant Morrison, Frank Quitely and Jamie Grant.

Now, Newsarama is proud to present an exclusive look back with Morrison at the series that took Superman to, pun intended, new heights. We had a lot of questions about the series...and Morrison delivered with an in-depth look into the themes, characters and ideas throughout the 12 issues. In fact, there was so much that we’re running this as an unprecedented 10-part series over the next two weeks – sort of an unofficial All Star Superman companion. It’s everything about All Star Superman you ever wanted to know, but were afraid to ask.

And of course there’s plenty of SPOILERS, so back away if you haven’t read the entire series.

Newsarama: Grant, tell us a little about the origin of the project.

Grant Morrison: Some of it has its roots in the DC One Million project from 1999. So much so, that some readers have come to consider this a prequel to DC One Million, which is fine if it shifts a few more copies! I’ve tried to give my own DC books an overarching continuity intended to make them all read as a more coherent body of work when I’m done.

Luthor’s “enlightenment” – when he peaks on super–senses and sees the world as it appears through Superman’s eyes – was an element I’d included in the Superman Now pitch I prepared along with Mark Millar, Tom Peyer and Mark Waid back in 1999. There were one or two of ideas of mine that I wanted to preserve from Superman Now and Luthor’s heart–stopping moment of understanding was a favorite part of the original ending for that story, so I decided to use it again here.

My specific take on Superman’s physicality was inspired by the “shamanic” meeting my JLA editor Dan Raspler and I had in the wee hours of the morning outside the San Diego comic book convention in whenever it was, ‘98 or ‘99.

I’ve told this story in more detail elsewhere but basically, we were trying to figure out how to “reboot” Superman without splitting up his marriage to Lois, which seemed like a cop–out. It was the beginning of the conversations which ultimately led to Superman Now, with Dan and I restlessly pacing around trying to figure out a new way into the character of Superman and coming up short...

Until we looked up to see a guy dressed as Superman crossing the train tracks. Not just any skinny convention guy in an ill–fitting suit, this guy actually looked like Superman. It was too good a moment to let pass, so I ran over to him, told him what we’d been trying to do and asked if he wouldn’t mind indulging us by answering some questions about Superman, which he did...in the persona and voice of Superman!

We talked for an hour and a half and he walked off into the night with his friend (no, it wasn’t Jimmy Olsen, sadly). I sat up the rest of the night, scribbling page after page of Superman notes as the sun came up over the naval yards.

My entire approach to Superman had come from the way that guy had been sitting; so easy, so confident, as if, invulnerable to all physical harm, he could relax completely and be spontaneous and warm. That pose, sitting hunched on the bollard, with one knee up, the cape just hanging there, talking to us seemed to me to be the opposite of the clenched, muscle-bound look the character sometimes sports and that was the key to Superman for me.

I met the same Superman a couple of times afterwards but he wasn’t Superman, just a nice guy dressed as Superman, whose name I didn’t save but who has entered into my own personal mythology (a picture has from that time has survived showing me and Mark Waid posing alongside this guy and a couple of young readers dressed as Superboy and Supergirl – it’s in the “Gallery” section at my website for anybody who can be bothered looking. This is the guy who lit the fuse that led to All Star Superman).

After the 1999 pitch was rejected, I didn’t expect to be doing any further work on Superman but sometime in 2002, while I was going into my last year on New X–Men, Dan DiDio called and asked if I wanted to come back to DC to work on a Superman book with Jim Lee.

Jim was flexing his artistic muscles again to great effect, and he wanted to do 12 issues on Superman to complement the work he was doing with Jeph Loeb on “Batman: Hush.” At the time, I wasn’t able to make my own commitments dovetail with Jim’s availability, but by then I’d become obsessed with the idea of doing a big Superman story and I’d already started working out the details.

Jim, of course, went on to do his 12 Superman issues as “For Tomorrow” with Brian Azzarello, so I found myself looking for an artist for what was rapidly turning into my own Man of Steel magnum opus, and I already knew the book had to be drawn by my friend and collaborator, Frank Quitely.

We were already talking about We3 and Superman seemed like a good meaty project to get our teeth into when that was done. I completely scaled up my expectations of what might be possible once Frank was on board and decided to make this thing as ambitious as possible.

Usually, I prefer to write poppy, throwaway “live performance” type superhero books, but this time, I felt compelled to make something for the ages – a big definitive statement about superheroes and life and all that, not only drawn by my favorite artist but starring the first and greatest superhero of them all.

The fact that it could be a non–continuity recreation made the idea even more attractive and more achievable. I also felt ready for it, in a way I don’t think I would have been in 1999; I finally felt “grown–up” enough to do Superman justice.

I plotted the whole story in 2002 and drew tiny colored sketches for all 12 covers. The entire book was very tightly constructed before we started – except that I’d left the ending open for the inevitable better and more focused ideas I knew would arise as the project grew into its own shape...and I left an empty space for issue 10. That one was intended from the start to be the single issue of the 12–issue run that would condense and amplify the themes of all the others. #10 was set aside to be the one–off story that would sum up anything anyone needed to know about Superman in 22 pages.

Not quite as concise an origin as Superman’s, but that’s how we got started.

NRAMA: When you were devising the series, what challenges did you have in building up this version of the Superman universe?

GM: I couldn’t say there were any particular challenges. It was fun. Nobody was telling me what I could or couldn’t do with the characters. I didn’t have to worry about upsetting continuity or annoying people who care about stuff like that.

I don’t have a lot of old comics, so my knowledge of Superman was based on memory, some tattered “70s books from the remains of my teenage collection, a bunch of DC “Best Of...” reprint editions and two brilliant little handbooks – “Superman in Action Comics” Volumes 1 and 2 – which reprint every single Action Comics cover from 1938 to 1988.

I read various accounts of Superman’s creation and development as a brand. I read every Superman story and watched every Superman movie I could lay my hands on, from the Golden Age to the present day. From the Socialist scrapper Superman of the Depression years, through the Super–Cop of the 40s, the mythic Hyper–Dad of the 50s and 60s, the questioning, liberal Superman of the early 70s, the bland “superhero” of the late 70s, the confident yuppie of the 80s, the over–compensating Chippendale Superman of the 90s etc. I read takes on Superman by Mark Waid, Mark Millar, Geoff Johns, Denny O’Neil, Jeph Loeb, Alan Moore, Paul Dini and Alex Ross, Joe Casey, Steve Seagle, Garth Ennis, Jim Steranko and many others.

I looked at the Fleischer cartoons, the Chris Reeve movies and the animated series, and read Alvin Schwartz’s (he wrote the first ever Bizarro story among many others) fascinating book – “An Unlikely Prophet” – where he talks about his notion of Superman as a tulpa, (a Tibetan word for a living thought form which has an independent existence beyond its creator) and claims he actually met the Man of Steel in the back of a taxi.

I immersed myself in Superman and I tried to find in all of these very diverse approaches the essential “Superman–ness” that powered the engine. I then extracted, purified and refined that essence and drained it into All Star’s tank, recreating characters as my own dream versions, without the baggage of strict continuity.

In the end, I saw Superman not as a superhero or even a science fiction character, but as a story of Everyman. We’re all Superman in our own adventures. We have our own Fortresses of Solitude we retreat to, with our own special collections of valued stuff, our own super–pets, our own “Bottle Cities” that we feel guilty for neglecting. We have our own peers and rivals and bizarre emotional or moral tangles to deal with.

I felt I’d really grasped the concept when I saw him as Everyman, or rather as the dreamself of Everyman. That “S” is the radiant emblem of divinity we reveal when we rip off our stuffy shirts, our social masks, our neuroses, our constructed selves, and become who we truly are.

Batman is obviously much cooler, but that’s because he’s a very energetic and adolescent fantasy character: a handsome billionaire playboy in black leather with a butler at this beck and call, better cars and gadgetry than James Bond, a horde of fetish femme fatales baying around his heels and no boss. That guy’s Superman day and night.

Superman grew up baling hay on a farm. He goes to work, for a boss, in an office. He pines after a hard–working gal. Only when he tears off his shirt does that heroic, ideal inner self come to life. That’s actually a much more adult fantasy than the one Batman’s peddling but it also makes Superman a little harder to sell. He’s much more of a working class superhero, which is why we ended the whole book with the image of a laboring Superman.

He’s Everyman operating on a sci–fi Paul Bunyan scale. His worries and emotional problems are the same as ours... except that when he falls out with his girlfriend, the world trembles.

Newsarama: Grant, what are some of your favorite moments from the 12 issues?

Grant Morrison: The first shot of Superman flying over the sun. The Cosmic Anvil. Samson and Atlas. The kiss on the moon. The first three pages of the Olsen story which, I think, add up to the best character intro I’ve ever written.

Everything Lex Luthor says in issue #5. Everything Clark does. The whole says/does Luthor/Superman dynamic as played out through Frank Quitely’s absolute mastery and understanding of how space, movement and expression combine to tell a story.

Superboy and his dog on the moon – that perfect teenage moment of infinite possibility, introspection and hope for the future. He’s every young man on the verge of adulthood, Krypto is every dog with his boy (it seemed a shame to us that Krypto’s most memorable moment prior to this was his death scene in “Whatever Happened To The Man of Tomorrow.” Quitely’s scampering, leaping, eager and alive little creature is how I’d prefer to imagine Krypto the Superdog and conjures finer and more subtle emotions).

Bizarro–Home, with all of Earth’s continental and ocean shapes but reversed. The page with the first appearance of Zibarro that Frank has designed so the eye is pulled down in a swirling motion into the drain at the heart of the image, to make us feel that we’re being flushed in a cloacal spiral down into a nihilistic, existential sink. Frank gave me that page as a gift, and it became weirdly emblematic of a strange, dark time in both our lives.

The story with Bar–El and Lilo has a genuine chill off ammonia and antiseptic off it, which makes it my least favorite issue of the series, although I know a lot of people who love it. It’s about dying relatives, obligations, the overlit overheated corridors between terminal wards, the thin metallic odors of chemicals, bad food and fear. Preparation for the Phantom Zone.

Superman hugging the poor, hopeless girl on the roof and telling us all we’re stronger than we think we are.

Joe Shuster drawing us all into the story forever and never–ending.

Nasthalthia Luthor. Frank and Jamie’s final tour of the Fortress, referencing every previous issue on the way, in two pages.

All of issue #10 (there’s a single typo in there where the time on the last page was screwed up – but when we fix that detail for the trade I’ll be able to regard this as the most perfectly composed superhero story I’ve ever written).

I don’t think I’ve ever had a smoother, more seamless collaborative process.

NRAMA: The story is very complete unto itself, but are there any new or classic characters you’d like to explore further? If so, which ones and why?

GM: I’d happily write more Atlas and Samson. I really like Krull, the Dino–Czar’s wayward son, and his Stalinist underground empire of “Subterranosauri.” I could write a Superman Squad comic forever. I’d love to write the “Son of Superman” sequel about Lois and Clark’s super test tube baby.

But...I think All Star is already complete, without sequels. You read that last issue and it works because you know you’re never going to see All Star Superman again. You’ll be able to pick up Superman books, but they won’t be about this guy and they won’t feel the same. He really is going away. Our Superman is actually “dying” in that sense, and that adds the whole series a deeper poignancy.

NRAMA: Aside from the Bizarro League, you never really introduce other DC superheroes into the story. Why did you make this choice?

GM: I wanted the story to be about the mythic Superman at the end of his time. It’s clear from the references that he has or more likely has had a few super–powered allies, but that they’re no longer around or relevant any more.

For the context of this story I wanted the super–friends to be peripheral, like they were in the old comics. The Flash? Green Lantern? They represent Superman’s “old army buddies,” or your dad’s school friends. Guys you’ve sort of heard of, who used to be more important in the old man’s life than they are now.

NRAMA: Some readers were confused as to how the “Twelve Labors” broke down, though others have pointed out that Superman’s actions are more reflective of the Stations of the Cross (I note there’s a “Station Café” in the background of issue #12). Could you break down the Twelve Labors, or, if the cross theory is true, how the storyline reflects the Stations?

GM: The 12 Labors of Superman were never intended as an isomorphic mapping onto the 12 Labors of Hercules, or for that matter, the specific Stations of the Cross, of which there are 14, I believe. I didn’t even want to do one Labor per issue, so it deliberately breaks down quite erratically through the series for reasons I’ll go into (later).

Yes, there are correspondences, but that’s mostly because we tried to create for our Superman the contemporary “superhero” version of an archetypal solar hero journey, which naturally echoes numerous myths, legends and religious parables.

At the same time, we didn’t want to do an update or a direct copy of any myth you’d seen before, so it won’t work if you try to find one specific mythological or religious “plan” to hang the series on; James Joyce’s honorable and heroic refutation of the rule aside, there’s nothing more dead and dull than an attempt to retell the Odyssey or the Norse sagas scene by scene, but in a modern and/or superhero setting.

For future historians and mythologizers, however, the 12 Labors of Superman may be enumerated as follows:

1. Superman saves the first manned mission to the sun.
2. Superman brews the Super–Elixir.
3. Superman answers the Unanswerable Question.
4. Superman chains the Chronovore. 
5. Superman saves Earth from Bizarro–Home.
6. Superman returns from the Underverse.
7. Superman creates Life.
8. Superman liberates Kandor/cures cancer.
9. Superman defeats Solaris.
10. Superman conquers Death.
11. Superman builds an artificial Heart for the Sun.
12.Superman leaves the recipe/formula to make Superman 2.

And one final feat, which typically no–one really notices, is that Lex Luthor delivers his own version of the unified field haiku – explaining the underlying principles of the universe in fourteen syllables – which the P.R.O.J.E.C.T. G–Type philosopher from issue 4 had dedicated his entire life to composing!

You may notice also that the Labors take place over a year – with the solar hero’s descent into the darkness and cold of the Underverse occurring at midwinter/Christmas time (that’s also the only point in the story where we ever see Metropolis at night).

It can also be seen as the sun’s journey over the course of a day – we open in blazing sunshine but halfway through the book, at the end of issue #5, in fact, the solar hero dips below the horizon and begins the night–journey through the hours of darkness and death, before his triumphant resurrection at dawn. That’s why issue 5 ends with the boat to the Underworld and 6 begins with the moon. Clark Kent is crossing the threshold into the subconscious world of memory, shadows, death and deep emotions.

Although they can often have bizarre resonances, specific elements, like the Station Café, are usually put there by Frank Quitely, and are not necessarily secret Dan Brown–style keys to unlocking the mysteries. I think there might be a Station Café opposite the studio where Frank Quitely works and the “SAPIEN” sign on another storefront is a reference to Frank’s studio mate, Dave Sapien. At least he’s not filling the background with dirty words like he used to, given any opportunity

NRAMA: For that matter, do the Twelve Labors matter at all? They seem so purposely ill–defined. They seem more like misdirection or a MacGuffin than anything that needs to be clearly delineated.

GM: They matter, of course, but the 12 Labors idea is there to show that, as with all myth, the systematic ordering of current events into stories, tales, or legends occurs after the fact.

I’m trying to suggest that only in the future will these particular 12 feats, out of all the others ever, be mythologized as 12 Labors. I suppose I was trying to say something about how people impose meaning upon events in retrospect, and that’s how myth is born. It’s hindsight that provides narrative, structure, meaning and significance to the simple unfolding of events. It’s the backward glance that adds all the capital letters to the list above.

Even Superman isn”t sure how many Labors he’s performed when we see him mulling it over in issue 10. 
When you watched it happening, it seemed to be Superman just doing his thing. In the future it’s become THE 12 LABORS OF SUPERMAN!

NRAMA: And on a completely ridiculous note: All–Star Superman is perhaps the most difficult–to–abbreviate comic title since Preacher: Tall in the Saddle. Did you realize this going in?

GM: Going into what? Going into ASS itself? In the sense of how did I feel as I slowly entered ASS for the first time?

It never crossed my mind...

Newsarama: I’d like to know a little more about Leo Quintum and his role in the story. He seems like a bit of an outgrowth of the likes of Project Cadmus and Emil Hamilton, but in a more fantastical, Willy Wonka sense.

Grant Morrison: Yeah, he was exactly as you say, my attempt to create an updated take on the character of “Superman’s scientist friend” – in the vein of Emil Hamilton from the animated show and the ‘90s stories. Science so often goes wrong in Superman stories, and I thought it was important to show the potential for science to go right or to be elevated by contact with Superman’s shining positive spirit.

I was thinking of Quintum as a kind of “Man Who Fell To Earth” character with a mysterious unearthly background. For a while I toyed with the notion that he was some kind of avatar of Lightray of the New Gods, but as All Star developed, that didn’t fit the tone, and he was allowed to simply be himself.

Eventually it just came down to simplicity. Leo Quintum represents the “good” scientific spirit – the rational, enlightened, progressive, utopian kind of scientist I figured Superman might inspire to greatness. It was interesting to me how so many people expected Quintum to turn out bad at the end. It shows how conditioned we are in our miserable, self–loathing, suspicious society to expect the worst of everyone, rather than hope for the best. Or maybe it’s just what we expect from stories.

Having said that, there is indeed a necessary whiff of Lucifer about Quintum. His name, Leo Quintum, conjures images of solar force, lions and lightbringers and he has elements of the classic Trickster figure about him. He even refers to himself as “The Devil Himself” in issue #10.

What he’s doing at the end of the story should, for all its gee–whiz futurity, feel slightly ambiguous, slightly fake, slightly “Hollywood.” Yes, he’s fulfilling Superman’s wishes by cloning an heir to Superman and Lois and inaugurating a Superman dynasty that will last until the end of time – but he’s also commodifying Superman, figuring out how it’s done, turning him into a brand, a franchise, a bigger–and–better “revamp,” the ultimate coming attraction, fresher than fresh, newer than new but familiar too. Quintum has figured out the “formula” for Superman and improved upon it.

And then you can go back to the start of All Star Superman issue #1 and read the “formula” for yourself, condensed into eight words on the first page and then expanded upon throughout the story! The solar journey is an endless circle naturally. A perfect puzzle that is its own solution.

In one way, Quintum could be seen to represent the creative team, simultaneously re–empowering a pure myth with the honest fire of Art...while at the same time shooting a jolt of juice through a concept that sells more “S” logo underpants and towels than it does comic books. All tastes catered!

I have to say that the Willy Wonka thing never crossed my mind until I saw people online make the comparison, which seems quite obvious now. Quintum dresses how I would dress if I was the world’s coolest super–scientist. What’s up with that?

NRAMA: Was Zibarro inspired by the Bizarro World story where the Bizarro–Neanderthal becomes this unappreciated Casanova–type?

GM: Don’t know that one, but it sounds like a scenario I could definitely endorse!

Zibarro started out as a daft name sicked–up by my subconscious mind, which flowered within moments into the must–write idea of an Imperfect Bizarro. What would an imperfect version of an already imperfect being be like?

Zibarro.

NRAMA: I’d like to know more about Zibarro – what’s the significance of his chronicling Bizarro World through poetry?

GM: It’s up to you. I see Zibarro partly as the sensitive teenager inside us all. He’s moody, horribly self–aware and uncomfortable, yet filled with thoughts of omnipotence and agency. He’s the absolute center of his tiny, disorganized universe. He’s playing the role of sensitive, empathic poet but at the same time, he’s completely self–absorbed.

When he says to Superman “Can you even imagine what it’s like to be so different. So unique. So unlike everyone else?” he doesn’t even wait for Superman’s reply. He doesn’t care about anyone’s feelings but his own, ultimately.

NRAMA: The character is very close to Superman, so what does it say that a nonpowered version on a savage world would focus his energy through that medium? Also, does Zibarro’s existence show how Superman is able to elevate even the backwards Bizarros through his very nature?

GM: All of the above. And maybe he writes his totally subjective poetry as a reflection of Clark Kent’s objective reporter role. The suppressed, lyrical, wounded side of Superman perhaps? The Super–Morrissey? Bizarro With The Thorn In His Side?

But he’s also Bizarro–Home’s “mistake” (or so it seems to him, even though he’s as natural an expression of the place as any of the other Bizarro creatures who grow like mold across the surface of their living planet). He feels excluded, a despised outsider, and yet that position is what defines his cherished self–image. He expresses himself through poetry because to him the regular Bizarro language is barbaric, barely articulate and guttural. And they all think he’s talking crap anyway.

It seemed to make sense that an interesting opposite of Bizarro speech might be flowery “woe is me” school Poetry Society odes to the sunset in a misunderstood heart. He’s still a Bizarro though, which makes him ineffectual. His tragedy is that he knows he’s fated to be useless and pointless but craves so much more.

NRAMA: Zibarro also represents a recurrent theme in the story, of Superman constantly facing alternate versions of himself – Bar–El, Samson and Atlas, the Superman Squad, even Luthor by the end. Notably, Hercules is absent, though Superman’s doing his Twelve Labors. With the mythological adventurers in particular, was this designed to equate Superman with their legend, to show how his character is greater than theirs, or both?

GM: In a way, I suppose. He did arm–wrestle them both, proving once and for all Superman’s stronger than anybody! And remember, these characters, along with Hercules, used to appear regularly in Superman books as his rivals. I thought they made better rivals than, say, Majestic or Ultraman because people who don’t read comics have heard of Hercules, Samson and Atlas and understand what they represent.

For that particular story, I wanted to see Superman doing tough guy shit again, like he did in the early days and then again in the 70s, when he was written as a supremely cocky macho bastard for a while. I thought a little bit of that would be an antidote to the slightly soppy, Super–Christ portrayal that was starting to gain ground.

Hence Samson’s broken arm, twisted in two directions beyond all repair. And Atlas in the hospital. And then Superman’s got his hot girlfriend dressed like a girl from Krypton and they’re making out on the moon (the original panel description was of something more like the famous shot of Burt Lancaster and Deborah Kerr kissing in the surf from “From Here To Eternity.” Frank’s final choice of composition is much more classically pulp–romantic and iconic than my down and dirty rumble in the moondirt would have been, I’m glad to say).

Newsarama: Tell us about some of the thinking behind the new antagonists you created for this series (at least the ones you want to talk about...): First up: Krull and the Subterranosaurs...

Grant Morrison: We wanted to create some throwaway new characters which would be designed to look as if they were convincing long–term elements of the Superman legend.

We were trying to create a few foes who had a classic feel and a solid backstory that could be explored again or in depth. Even if we never went back to these characters, we wanted them to seem rich enough to carry their own stories.

With Krull, we figured a superhuman character like Superman can always use a powerful “sub–human” opponent: a beast, a monster, a savage with the power to destroy civilization. For years I’ve had the idea that the familiar “gray aliens” might “actually” be evolved biped dinosaur descendants, the offspring of smart–thinking lizards which made their way to the warm regions at the Earth’s core.

I imagined these brutes developing their own technology, their own civilization, and then finally coming to the surface to declare bloody war on the mammalian usurpers! It seemed like we could develop this idea into the Krull backstory and suggest a whole epic conflict in a few panels.

Dom Regan, the Glasgow artist and DC colorist, saw the original green skin Jamie Grant had done for Krull, and suggested we make him red instead. Jamie reset his color filters and that was the moment Krull suddenly looked like a real Superman foe.

The red skin marked him out as unique, different and dangerous, even among his own species. It had echoes of Jack Kirby’s Devil Dinosaur that played right into the heart of the concept. A good design became a great design and the whole story of who Krull was – his twisted relationship with his father the Dino–Czar, his monstrous ambitions – came together in that first picture.

The society was fleshed out in the script even though we see only one panel of it – a gloomy, heavy, “Soviet” underworld of walled iron cities, cold blood and deadly intrigue. War–Barges that could sail on the oceans of heated steam at the center of the Earth. A Stalinist authoritarian lizard world where missing person cases were being taken to work and die as slaves in hellish underworld conditions.

NRAMA: Mechano–Man?

GM: An attempt to pre–imagine a classic, archetypal Superman foe, which started with another simple premise – how about a giant robot villain? But not just any giant robot – this is a rampaging machine with a raging little man inside.

Giving him a bitter, angry, scrawny loser as a pilot turned Mechano–Man into a much more extreme and pathological expression of the Man of Steel/Mild–Mannered Reporter dynamic, and added a few interesting layers onto an 8–panel appearance.

NRAMA: The Chronovore – a very disturbing creation, that one.

GM: The Chronovore was mentioned in passing in DC 1,000,000 and would have been the monster in my aborted Hypercrisis series idea. It took a long time to get the right design for the beast because it’s meant to be a 5–D being that we only ever see in 4–D sections. It had to work as a convincing representation of something much bigger that we’re seeing only where it interpenetrates our 4–D space-time continuum.

Imagine you’re walking along with a song in your teenage heart, then suddenly the Chronovore appears, takes bite out of your life, and you arrive at your girlfriend’s house aged 76, clutching a cell phone and a wilted bouquet.

NRAMA: One more obscure run that I was happy to see referenced in this was the use of Nasty from the old Mike Sekowsky Supergirl stories. What made you want to use this character?

GM: I remembered her from the old comics, and felt her fashion–y look could be updated very easily into the kind of fetish club thing I’ve always been partial to.

She seemed a cool and sexy addition to the Luthor plot. The set–up, where Lex has a fairly normal sister who hates how her wayward brother is such a bad influence on her brilliant daughter, is explosive with character potential.

They need to bring Nasty back to mainstream continuity. Geoff! They all want it and you know you never let them down!

NRAMA: Speaking of Mike Sekowsky, I’m curious about his influence on your work. I have an odd fascination with all the ideas and stories he was tossing around in the late 1960s and early 1970s – Jason’s Quest, Manhunter 2070, the I–Ching tales – and many of the characters he worked on, from the B”Wana Beast to the Inferior Five to Yankee Doodle (in Doom Patrol), have shown up in your work. The Bizarro Zoo in issue #10 is even slightly reminiscent of the Beast’s merged animals.

GM: Those were all comics that were around when I was a normal kid, prior to the obsessive collecting fan phase of my isolated teenage years. They clearly inspired me in some way, as you say, but certainly not consciously. I’d never have considered myself a particular fan of Mike Sekowsky’s work, but as you say, I’ve incorporated a lot of his ideas into the DC Universe work I’ve done. Hmm. Interesting.

While I’m at it, I should also say something about Samson and Atlas, halfway between old characters and new.

Samson, Atlas and Hercules were classical mainstays of old Superman covers, tangling with Superman in all those Silver Age stories that happened before he learned from his friends at Marvel that it was possible to fight other superheroes for fun and profit, so I decided to completely “re–vamp” the characters in the manner of superhero franchises. Marvel has the definitive Hercules for me, so I left him out of the mix and concentrated on Atlas and Samson.

Atlas was re–imagined as a mighty but restless and reckless young prince of the New Mythos – a society of mega–beings playing out their archetypal dramas between New Elysium and Hadia, with ordinary people caught in the middle – and Superman.

Essentially good–hearted, Atlas would have been the newbie in a “team” with Skyfather Xaoz!, Heroina, Marzak and the others. He has a bullish, adolescent approach to life. He drinks and plunges himself into ill–advised adventures to ease his naturally gloomy “weighed down by the world” temperament.

You can see it all now. The backstory suggested an unseen, Empyrean New Gods–type series from a parallel universe. What if, when Jack Kirby came to DC from Marvel in 1971, he’d followed up his sci–fi Viking Gods saga at Marvel, with a dimension–spanning epic rooted in Greek mythology? New Gods meets Eternals drawn by Curt Swan/Murphy Anderson? That was Atlas.

Samson, I decided would be a callback to the British newspaper strip “Garth.” Although you may already be imagining a daily strip about the exploits of time–tossed The Boys writer, Garth Ennis, it was actually about a blonde Adonis type who bounced around the ages having mildly horny, racy adventures.

(Go look him up then return the wiser before reading on, so I don’t have to explain anymore about this bastard – he’s often described as “the British Superman,” but oh...my arse! I hated meathead, personality–singularity Garth...but we all grew up with his meandering, inexplicable yet incredibly–drawn adventures and some of it was quite good when you were a little lad because he was always shagging ON PANEL with the likes of a bare–breasted cave girl or gauze–draped Helen of Troy.

(Unlike Superman, you see, the top British strongman liked to get naked. Lots naked. Naked in every time period he could get naked in, which was all of them thanks to the miracle of his bullshit powers.

(Imagine Doctor Who buff, dumb and naked all the time – Russell, I’ve had an idea!!!! – and that’s Garth in a nutshell.

(Sorry, I know I’m going on and the average attention span of anyone reading stuff on the Internet amounts to no more than a few paragraphs, but basically, Garth was always getting naked. In public, in family newspapers. Bollock naked. Let’s face it, patriotic Americans, have you ever seen Superman’s arse?

Newsarama Note: Well, there was Baby Kal-El in the 1978 film...

(Brits, hands up who still remember the man, and have you ever not seen Garth’s arse? Do you not, in fact, have a very clear image of it in your head, as drawn by Martin Asbury perhaps? In mine, Garth’s pulling aside a flimsy curtain to gaze at the pyramids with Cleopatra buck naked in foreground ogling his rock hard glutes...).

Anyway, Samson, I decided, was the Hebrew version of Garth and he would have his own mad comic that was like an American version of Garth. I saw the Bible hero plucked from the desert sands by time–travelling buffoons in search of a savior. Introduced to all the worst aspects of future culture and, using his stolen, erratic Chrono–Mobile, Samson became a time–(and space) traveling Soldier of Fortune, writing wrongs, humping princesses, accumulating and losing treasure etc. Like a science fiction Conan. Meets Garth.

Fortunately, you’ll never see any of these men ever again.

Newsarama: How have your perceptions of Superman and his supporting characters evolved since the Superman 2000 pitch you did with Mark Waid, Mark Millar and Tom Peyer? The Superman notions seem almost identical, but Luthor is very different here than in that pitch, and so is Clark Kent. Did you use some aspects of your original pitch, or have you just changed his mind on how to portray these characters since?

Grant Morrison: A little of both. I wanted to approach All Star Superman as something new, but there were a couple of specific aspects from the Superman 2000 pitch (as I mentioned earlier, it was actually called Superman Now, at least in my notebooks, which is where the bulk of the material came from) that I felt were definitely worth keeping and exploring.

I can’t remember much about Luthor from Superman Now, except for the ending. By the time I got to All Star Superman, I’d developed a few new insights into Luthor’s character that seemed to flesh him out more. Luthor’s really human and charismatic and hateful all the same time. He’s the brilliant, deluded egotist in all of us. The key for me was the idea that he draws his eyebrows on. The weird vanity of that told me everything I needed to know about Luthor.

I thought the real key to him was the fact that, brilliant as he is, Luthor is nowhere near as brilliant as he wants to be or thinks he is. For Luthor, no praise, no success, no achievement is ever enough, because there’s a big hungry hole in his soul. His need for acknowledgement and validation is superhuman in scale. Superman needs no thanks; he does what he does because he’s made that way. Luthor constantly rails against his own sense of failure and inadequacy...and Superman’s to blame, of course.

I’ve recently been re–thinking Luthor again for a different project, and there’s always a new aspect of the character to unearth and develop.

NRAMA: This story makes Superman and Lois’ relationship seem much more romantic and epic than usual, but this one also makes Superman more of the pursuer. Lois seems like more of an equal, but also more wary of his affections, particularly in the black–and–white sequence in issue #2.

She becomes this great beacon of support for him over the course of the series, but there is a sense that she’s a bit jaded from years of trickery and uncomfortable with letting him in now that he’s being honest. How, overall, do you see the relationship between Superman and Lois?

GM: The black-and-white panels shows Lois paranoid and under the influence of an alien chemical, but yes, she’s articulating many of her very real concerns in that scene.

I wanted her to finally respond to all those years of being tricked and duped and led to believe Superman and Clark Kent were two different people. I wanted her to get her revenge by finally refusing to accept the truth.

It also exposed that brilliant central paradox in the Superman/Lois relationship. The perfect man who never tells a lie has to lie to the woman he loves to keep her safe. And he lives with that every day. It’s that little human kink that really drives their relationship.

NRAMA: Jimmy Olsen is extremely cool in this series – it’s the old “Mr. Action” idea taken to a new level. It’s often easy to write Jimmy as a victim or sycophant, but in this series, he comes off as someone worthy of being “Superman’s Pal” – he implicitly trusts Superman, and will take any risk to get his story. Do you see this version of Jimmy as sort of a natural evolution of the version often seen in the comics?

GM: It was a total rethink based on the aspects of Olsen I liked, and playing down the whole wet–behind–the–ears “cub reporter” thing. I borrowed a little from the “Mr. Action” idea of a more daredevil, pro–active Jimmy, added a little bit of Nathan Barley, some Abercrombie & Fitch style, a bit of Tintin, and a cool Quitely haircut.

Jimmy was renowned for his “disguises” and bizarre transformations (my favorite is the transvestite Olsen epic “Miss Jimmy Olsen” from Jimmy Olsen #95, which gets a nod on the first page of our Jimmy story we did), so I wanted to take that aspect of his appeal and make it part of his job.

I don’t like victim Jimmy or dumb Jimmy, because those takes on the character don’t make any sense in their context. It seemed more interesting see what a young man would be like who could convincingly be Superman’s “pal.” Someone whose company a Superman might actually enjoy. That meant making Jimmy a much bigger character: swaggering but ingenuous. Innocent yet worldly. Enthusiastic but not stupid.

My favorite Jimmy moment is in issue #7 when he comes up with the way to defeat the Bizarro invasion by using the seas of the Bizarro planet itself as giant mirrors to reflect toxic – to Bizarros – sunlight onto the night side of the Earth. He knows Superman can actually take crazy lateral thinking like this and put it into practice.

NRAMA: Perry White has a few small–but–key scenes, particularly his address to his staff in issue #1 and standing up to Luthor in issue #12. I’d like to hear more about your thoughts on this character.

GM: As with the others, my feelings are there on the page. Perry is Clark’s boss and need only be that and not much more to play his role perfectly well within the stories. He’s a good reminder that Superman has a job and a boss, unlike that good–for–nothing work-shy bastard Batman. Perry’s another of the series’ older male role models of integrity and steadfastness, like Pa Kent.

NRAMA: There’s a sense in the Daily Planet scenes and with Lois’s spotlight issues that everyone knows Clark is Superman, but they play along to humor him. The Clark disguise comes off as very obvious in this story. Do you feel that the Planet staff knows the truth, or are just in a very deep case of denial, like Lex?

GM: If I had to say for sure, I think Jimmy Olsen worked it out a long time ago, and simply presumes that if Superman has a good reason for what he’s doing, that’s good enough for Jimmy.

Lois has guessed, but refuses to acknowledge it because it exposes her darkest flaw – she could never love Clark Kent the way she loves Superman.

NRAMA: Also, the Planet staff seems awfully nonchalant at Luthor’s threats. Are they simply used to being attacked by now?

GM: Yes. They’re a tough group. They also know that Superman makes a point of looking out for them, so they naturally try to keep Luthor talking. They know he loves to talk about himself and about Superman. In that scene, he’s almost forgotten he even has powers, he’s so busy arguing and making points. He keeps doing ordinary things instead of extraordinary things.

NRAMA: The running gag of Clark subtly using his powers to protect unknowing people is well done, but I have to admit I was confused by the sequence near the end of issue #1. Was that an el–train, and if so, why was it so close to the ground?

GM: It’s a MagLev hover–train. Look again, and you’ll see it’s not supported by anything. Hover–trains help ease congestion in busy city streets! Metropolis is the City of Tomorrow, after all.

NRAMA: And there’s the death of Pa Kent. Why do you feel it’s particularly important to have Pa and not both of the Kents pass away?

GM: I imagined they had both passed away fairly early in Superman’s career, but Ma went a few years after Pa. Also, because the book was about men or man, it seemed important to stress the father/son relationships. That circle of life, the king is dead, long live the king thing that Superman is ultimately too big and too timeless to succumb to.

NRAMA: There is a real touch of Elliott S! Maggin’s novels in your depiction of Luthor – someone who is just so obsessive–compulsive about showing up Superman that he accomplishes nothing in his own life. He comes across as a showman, from his rehearsed speech in issue #1 to his garish costume in the last two issues, and it becomes painfully apparent that he wants to usurp Superman because he just can’t be happy with himself. What defeats him is actually a beautiful gift, getting to see the world as Superman does, and finally understanding his enemy.

That’s all a lead–in to: What previous stories that defined Luthor for you, and how did you define his character? What appeals to you about writing him?

GM: The Marks Waid and Millar were big fans of the Maggin books, and may have persuaded me to read at least the first one but I’m ashamed to say can’t remember anything about it, other than the vague recollection of a very humane, humanist take on Superman that seemed in general accord with the pacifist, hedonistic, between–the–wars spirit of the ‘90s when I read it. It was the ‘90s; I had other things on my mind and in my mind.

I like Maggin’s “Must There Be A Superman?” from Superman #247, which ultimately poses questions traditional superhero comic books are not equipped to answer and is one of the first paving stones in the Yellow Brick Road that leads to Watchmen and beyond, to The Authority, The Ultimates etc. Everyone still awake, still reading this, should make themselves familiar with “Must There Be A Superman?” – it’s a milestone in the development of the superhero concept.

However, the story that most defines Luthor for me turns out to be, as usual, a Len Wein piece with Curt Swan/Murphy Anderson– Superman #248. This blew me away when I was a kid. Lex Luthor cares about humanity? He’s sorry we all got blown up? The villain loves us too? It’s only Superman he really hates? Genius. Big, cool adult stuff.

The divine Len makes Lex almost too human, but it was amazing to see this kind of depth in a character I’d taken for granted as a music hall villain.

I also love the brutish Satanic, Crowley–esque, Golden Age Luthor in the brilliant “Powerstone” Action Comics #47 (the opening of All Star #11 is a shameless lift from “Powerstone”, as I soon realised when I went back to look. Blame my...er...photographic memory...cough).

And I like the Silver Age Luthor who only hates Superman because he thinks it’s Superboy’s fault he went bald. That was the most genuinely human motivation for Luthor’s career of villainy of all; it was Superman’s fault he went bald! I can get behind that.

In the Silver Age, baldness, like obesity, old age and poverty, was seen quite rightly as a crippling disease and a challenge which Superman and his supporting cast would be compelled to overcome at every opportunity! Suburban “50s America versus Communist degeneracy? You tell me.

I like elements of the Marv Wolfman/John Byrne ultra–cruel and rapacious businessman, although he somewhat lacks the human dimension (ultimately there’s something brilliant about Luthor being a failed inventor, a product of Smallville/Dullsville – the genius who went unnoticed in his lifetime, and resorted to death robots in chilly basements and cellars. Luthor as geek versus world). I thought Alan Moore’s ruthlessly self–assured “consultant” Luthor in Swamp Thing was an inspired take on the character as was Mark Waid’s rage–driven prodigy from Birthright.

I tried to fold them all into one portrayal. I see him as a very human character – Superman is us at our best, Luthor is us when we’re being mean, vindictive, petty, deluded and angry. Among other things. It’s like a bipolar manic/depressive personality – with optimistic, loving Superman smiling at one end of the scale and paranoid, petty Luthor cringing on the other.

I think any writer of Superman has to love these two enemies equally. We have to recognize them both as potentials within ourselves. I think it’s important to find yourself agreeing with Luthor a bit about Superman’s “smug superiority” – we all of us, except for Superman, know what it’s like to have mean–spirited thoughts like that about someone else’s happiness. It’s essential to find yourself rooting for Lex, at least a little bit, when he goes up against a man–god armed only with his bloody–minded arrogance and cleverness.

Even if you just wish you could just give him a hug and help him channel his energies in the right direction, Luthor speaks for something in all of us, I like to think.

However he’s played, Luthor is the male power fantasy gone wrong and turned sour. You’ve got everything you want but it’s not enough because someone has more, someone is better, someone is cleverer or more handsome.

 Newsarama: Grant, a recurring theme throughout the book is the effect of small kindness – how even the likes of Steve Lombard are capable of decency. And Superman gets the key to saving himself by doing something that any human being could do, offering sympathy to a person about to end it all.

Grant Morrison: Completely...the person you help today could be the person who saves your life tomorrow.

NRAMA: The character actions that make the biggest difference, from Zibarro’s sacrifice to Pa’s influence on Superman, are really things that any normal, non-powered person could do if they embrace the best part of their humanity. The last page of issue #12 teases the idea that Superman’s powers could be given to all mankind, but it seems as though the greatest gift he has given them is his humanity. How do you view Superman’s fate in the context of where humanity could go as a species?

GM: I see Superman in this series as an Enlightenment figure, a Renaissance idea of the ideal man, perfect in mind, body and intention.

A key text in all of this is Pico’s ‘Oration On The Dignity of Man’ (15c), generally regarded as the ‘manifesto’ of Renaissance thought, in which Giovanni Pico Della Mirandola laid out the fundamentals of what we tend to refer to as ’Humanist’ thinking.

(The ‘Oratorio’ also turns up in my British superhero series Zenith from 1987, which may indicate how long I’ve been working towards a Pico/Superman team-up!)

At its most basic, the ‘Oratorio’ is telling us that human beings have the unique ability, even the responsibility, to live up to their ‘ideals’. It would be unusual for a dog to aspire to be a horse, a bird to bark like a dog, or a horse to want to wear a diving suit and explore the Barrier Reef, but people have a particular gift for and inclination towards imitation, mimicry and self-transformation. We fly by watching birds and then making metal carriers that can outdo birds, we travel underwater by imitating fish, we constantly look to role models and behavioral templates for guidance, even when those role models are fictional TV or, comic, novel or movie heroes, just like the soft, quick, shapeshifty little things we are. We can alter the clothes we wear, the temperature around us, and change even our own bodies, in order to colonize or occupy previously hostile environments. We are, in short, a distinctively malleable and adaptable bunch.

So, Pico is saying, if we live by imitation, does it not make sense that we might choose to imitate the angels, the gods, the very highest form of being that we can imagine? Instead of indulging the most brutish, vicious, greedy and ignorant aspects of the human experience, we can, with a little applied effort, elevate the better part of our natures and work to express those elements through our behavior. To do so would probably make us all feel a whole lot better too. Doing good deeds and making other people happy makes you feel totally brilliant, let’s face it.

So we can choose to the astronaut or the gangster. The superhero or the super villain. The angel or the devil. It’s entirely up to us, particularly in the privileged West, how we choose to imagine ourselves and conduct our lives.

We live in the stories we tell ourselves. It’s really simple. We can continue to tell ourselves and our children that the species we belong to is a crawling, diseased, viral cancer smear, only fit for extinction, and let’s see where that leads us.

We can continue to project our self-loathing and narcissistic terror of personal mortality onto our culture, our civilization, our planet, until we wreck the promise of the world for future generations in a fit of sheer self-induced panic...

...or we can own up to the scientific fact that we are all physically connected as parts of a single giant organism, imagine better ways to live and grow...and then put them into practice. We can stop pissing about, start building starships, and get on with the business of being adults.

The ’Oratorio’ is nothing less than the Shazam!, the Kimota! for Western Culture and we would do well to remember it in our currently trying times.

The key theme of the ‘Dark Age’ of comics was loss and recovery of wonder - McGregor’s Killraven trawling through the apocalyptic wreckage of culture in his search for poetry, meaning and fellowship, Captain Mantra, amnesiac in Robert Mayer’s Superfolks, Alan Moore’s Mike Maxwell trudging through the black and white streets of Thatcher’s Britain, with the magic word of transformation burning on the tip of his tongue.

My own work has been an ongoing attempt to repeat the magic word over and over until we all become the kind of superheroes we’d all like to be. Ha hah ha.

 Newsarama: The structure of the 12 issues involves both Superman’s 12 labors and his impending death. Do you feel the threat of his demise brings out the best in Superman’s already–high character, or did you intend it more as a window for the audience to understand how he sees the world?

Grant Morrison: In trying to do the “big,” ultimate Superman story, we wanted to hit on all the major beats that define the character – the “death of Superman” story has been told again and again and had to be incorporated into any definitive take. Superman’s death and rebirth fit the sun god myth we were establishing, and, as you say, it added a very terminal ticking clock to the story.

NRAMA: When we talked earlier this year, we discussed the neurotic quality of the Silver Age stories. Looking at the series as a whole, you consistently invert this formula. Superman is faced with all these crises that could be seen as personifying his neuroses, but for the most part he handles them with a level head and comes across as being very at peace with himself. You talked about your discussion with an in–character Superman fan at a convention years ago, but I am curious as to how you determined Superman’s mindset.

GM: I felt we had to live up to the big ideas behind Superman. I don’t take my daft job lightly. It’s all I’ve got.

As the project got going, I wasn’t thinking about Silver Ages or Dark Ages or anything about the comics I’d read, so much as the big shared idea of “Superman” and that “S” logo I see on T–shirts everywhere I go, on girls and boys. That communal Superman. I wanted us to get the precise energy of Platonic Superman down on the page.

The “S” hieroglyph, the super–sigil, stands for the very best kind of man we can imagine, so the subject dictated the methodical, perfectionist approach. As I’ve mentioned before, I keep this aspect of my job fresh for myself by changing my writing style to suit the project, the character or the artist.

With something like Batman R.I.P., I’m aiming for a frenzied Goth Pulp-Noir; punk-psych, expressionist shadows and jagged nightmare scene shifts, inspired by Batman’s roots and by the snapping, fluttering of his uncanny cape. Final Crisis was written, with the Norse Ragnarok and Biblical Revelations in mind, as a story about events more than characters. A doom-laden, Death Metal myth for the wonderful world of Fina(ncia)l Crisis/Eco-breakdown/Terror Trauma we all have to live in.

The subject matter drives the execution. And then, of course, the artists add their own vision and nuance. With All Star Superman, “Frank” and I were able to spend a lot of time together talking it through, and we agreed it had to be about grids, structure, storybook panel layouts, an elegance of form, a clarity of delivery. “Classical” in every sense of the word. The medium, the message, the story, the character, all working together as one simple equation.

Frank Quitely, a Glasgow Art School boy, completely understood without much explanation, the deep structural underpinnings of the series and how to embody them in his layouts. There’s a scene in issue # 8, set on the Bizarro world, where we see Le Roj handing Superman his rocket plans. Look at the arrangement of the figures of Zibarro, Le Roj, Superman and Bizaro–Superman and you’ll see one attempt to make us of Renaissance compositions.

The sense of sunlit Zen calm we tried to get into All Star is how I imagine it might feel to think the way Superman thinks all the time - a thought process that is direct, clean, precise, mathematical, ordered. A mind capable of fantastical imagination but grounded in the everyday of his farm upbringing with nice decent folks. Rich with humour and tears and deep human significance, yet tuned to a higher key. We tried to hum along for a little while, that’s all.

In honor of the character’s primal position in the development of the superhero narrative, I hoped we could create an “ultimate” hero story, starring the ultimate superhero.

Basically, I suppose I felt Superman deserved the utmost application of our craft and intelligence in order to truly do him justice.

Otherwise, I couldn’t have written this book if I hadn’t watched my big, brilliant dad decline into incoherence and death. I couldn’t have written it if I’d never had my heart broken, or mended. I couldn’t have written it if I hadn’t known what it felt like to be idolized, misunderstood, hated for no clear reason, loved for all my faults, forgotten, remembered...

Writing All Star Superman was, in retrospect, also a way of keeping my mind in the clean sunshine while plumbing the murkiest depths of the imagination with that old pair of c****s Darkseid and Doctor Hurt. Good riddance.

 Newsarama: This is touched on in other questions, but how much of the Silver/Bronze Age backstory matters here? What do you see as Superman's life prior to All-Star Superman? (What was going on with this Superman while the Byrne revamp took hold?)

Grant Morrison: When I introduced the series in an interview online, I suggested that All Star Superman could be read as the adventures of the ‘original’ Pre-Crisis on Infinite Earths Superman, returning after 20 plus years of adventures we never got to see because we were watching John Byrne‘s New Superman on the other channel. If ‘Whatever Happened To The Man of Tomorrow?’ and the Byrne reboot had never happened, where would that guy be now?

This was more to provide a sense, probably limited and ill-considered, of what the tone of the book might be like. I never intended All Star Superman as a direct continuation of the Weisinger or Julius Schwartz-era Superman stories. The idea was always to create another new version of Superman using all my favorite elements of past stories, not something ‘Age’ specific.

I didn’t collect Superman comics until the ‘70s and I’m not interested enough in pastiche or nostalgia to spend 6 years of my life playing post-modern games with Superman. All Star isn’t written, drawn or colored to look or read like a Silver Age comic book.

All Star Superman is not intended as arch commentary on continuity or how trends in storytelling have changed over the decades. It’s not retro or meta or anything other than its own simple self; a piece of drawing and writing that is intended by its makers to capture the spirit of its subject to the best of their capabilities, wisdom and talent.

Which is to say, we wanted our Superman story be about life, not about comics or superheroes, current events or politics. It’s about how it feels, specifically to be a man...in our dreams! Hopefully that means our 12 issues are also capable of wide interpretation.

So as much as we may have used a few recognizable Silver Age elements like Van-Zee and Sylv(i)a and the Bottle City of Kandor, the ensemble Daily Planet cast embodies all the generations of Superman. Perry White is from 1940, Steve Lombard is from the Schwartz-era ‘70s, Ron Troupe - the only black man in Metropolis - appeared in 1991. Cat Grant is from 1987 and so on.

P.R.O.J.E.C.T. refers back to Jack Kirby’s DNA Project from his ‘70s Jimmy Olsen stories, as well as to The Cadmus Project from ’90s Superboy and Superman stories. Doomsday is ‘90s. Kal Kent, Solaris and the Infant Universe of Qwewq all come from my own work on Superman in the same decade. Pa Kent’s heart attack is from ‘Superman the Movie‘. We didn’t use Brainiac because he’d been the big bad in Earth 2 but if we had, we’d have used Brainiac’s Kryptonian origin from the animated series and so on.

I also used quite a few elements of John Byrne’s approach. Byrne made a lot of good decisions when he rebooted the whole franchise in 1986 and I wanted to incorporate as much as I could of those too.

Our Superman in All Star was never Superboy, for instance. All Star Superman landed on Earth as a normal, if slightly stronger and fitter infant, and only began to manifest powers in adolescence when he’d finally soaked up enough yellow solar radiation to trigger his metamorphosis.

The Byrne logic seemed to me a better way to explain how his powers had developed across the decades, from the skyscraper leaps of the early days to the speed-of-light space flight of the high Silver Age. And more importantly, it made the Superman myth more poignant - the story of a farm boy who turned into an alien as he reached adolescence. I felt that was something that really enriched Superman. He grew away from his home, his family, his adopted species as he became Superman. His teenage years are a record of his transformation from normal boy to super-being.

As you say, there are more than just Silver Age influences in the book. Basically we tried to create a perfect synthesis of every Superman era. So much so, that it should just be taken as representative of an ‘age’ all its own.

In the end, however, I do think that the Silver Age type stories, with their focus on human problems and foibles, have a much wider appeal than a lot of the work which followed. They’re more like fables or folk tales than the later ‘comic book superhero’ stories of Superman when he became just another colorful costume in the crowd...and perhaps that’s why All Star seemed to resemble those books more than it does a typical modern Marvel or DC comic. It was our intention to present a more universal, mainstream Superman.

NRAMA: In your depiction of Krypton and the Kryptonians, you show the complexity of Superman’s relationship between humanity and Earth even further. Krypton has that scientific paradise quality to it, but the Kryptonians are also portrayed as slightly aloof and detached, even Jor-El. But from Bar-El to the people of Kandor, they’re touched by Superman’s goodness. What do you see as the fundamental difference between Kryptonians and Earthlings, and how has Superman’s character been shaped by each?

GM: My version of Krypton was, again, synthesized from a number of different approaches over the decades. 
In mythic terms, if Superman is the story of a young king, found and raised by common people, then Krypton is the far distant kingdom he lost. It’s the secret bloodline, the aristocratic heritage that makes him special, and a hero. At the same time, Krypton is something that must be left behind for Superman to become who he is - i.e. one of us. Krypton gives him his scientific clarity of mind, Earth makes his heart blaze.

I liked the very early Jerry Siegel descriptions where Krypton is a planet of advanced supermen and women (I already played with that a little in Marvel Boy where Noh-Varr was written to be the Marvel Superboy basically). To that, I added the rich, science fiction detailing of the Silver Age Krypton stories and the slightly detached coolness that characterized John Byrne’s Krypton, which I re-interpreted through the lens of Dzogchen Buddhist thought, probably the most pragmatic, chilly and rational philosophic system on the planet and the closest, I felt, to how Kryptonians might see things.

We also took some time to redesign the crazy, multicolored Kryptonian flag (you can see our version in Kandor in issue #10). The flag, as originally imagined, seemed like the last thing Kryptonians would endorse, so we took the multicolored-rays-around-a-circle design and recreated it - the central circle is now red, representing Krypton’s star, Rao, while the rays, rather than arbitrary colors, become representations of the spectrum of visible light pouring from Rao into the inky black of space. In this way, the flag, that bizarre emblem of nationalism becomes a scientific hieroglyph.

Showing Krypton and Kryptonians was also important as a way of stressing why Superman wears that costume and why it makes absolute sense that he looks the way he does. I don’t see the red and blue suit as a flag or as rewoven baby blankets. There’s no need for Superman to dress the way he does but it made sense to think of his outfit as his ‘national costume‘.

The way I see it, the standard superhero outfit, the familiar Superman suit with the pants on the outside, is what everyone wore on Krypton, give or take a few fashion accessories like hoods and headbands, chest crests and variant colors. In fact, all other superheroes are just copying the fashions on Krypton, lost planet of the super-people.

Superman wears his ’action-suit’ the way a patriotic Scotsman would wear a kilt. It’s a sign of his pride in his alien heritage.

 Newsarama: Although All–Star Superman ties in with DC One Million, you style of writing has changed dramatically since then.  How do you feel about One Million now?

Grant Morrison: I just read it again and liked it a lot. Comics were definitely happier, breezier and more confident in their own strengths before Hollywood and the Internet turned the business of writing superhero stories into the production of low budget storyboards or, worse, into conformist, fruitless attempts to impress or entertain a small group of people who appear to hate comics and their creators.

NRAMA: Obviously, this book is the most explicit SF–Christ story since Behold the Man, only...happy.  Superman/Christ parallels have existed for decades, but this story makes it absolutely explicit, from laying his hands on the sick and dying to...well, most of issue #12.  You’ve dealt with Christ themes before, particularly in The Mystery Play, but outside of the comics, how do you see Superman as a Christ figure for the “real” world?

GM: The “Superman as Christ” thing is a little too reductive for me, and tends to overlook the fact that Superman is by no means a pacifist in the Christ sense. Superman would never turn the other cheek; Superman punches out the bully. Superman is a fighter.

When did Christ ever batter the Devil through a mountain?

The thing I disliked about the Superman Returns movie was the American Christ angle, which reduced Superman to a sniveling, masochistic wreck, crawling around on the floor, taking a kicking from everyone. This approach had an odd and slightly disturbing S&M flavor, which didn’t play well to the character’s strengths at all and seemed to derive entirely from a kind of Catholic vision of the suffering, martyred Jesus.

It’s not that he’s based on Jesus, but simply that a lot of the mythical sun god elements that have been layered onto the Christ story also appear in the story of Superman. I suppose I see Superman more as pagan sci–fi. He’s a secular messiah, a science redeemer with tough guy muscles and a very direct and clear morality.

NRAMA: Continuing the religious themes, in issue #10, you have Superman literally giving birth to himself, both philosophically and as a character – a nice little meta–moment showing how Superman inspires a world where he is only fiction.  How did that idea come about?

GM: It came from the challenge we’d set ourselves: as I said, issue #10 had been left as a blank space into which the single most coherent condensation of all our ideas about Superman were destined to fit.

I wanted to do a “day in the life” story. So much of All Star had been about this threat to Superman himself, so we wanted to show him going about a typical day saving people and doing good.

Then came the title “Neverending,” which comes from the opening announcement – “Faster than a speeding bullet!...” of the Superman radio show from 1940, and seemed to me to be as good a title for a Superman story as any I could think of. It seemed to distil everything about Superman’s battle and his legend into a single word. And the story structure itself was designed to loop endlessly, so it went well with that.

 On top of that went the idea of the Last Will and Testament of Superman. A dying god writing his will seemed like an interesting structure to use. Then came the idea to fit all of human history into that single 24 hours. And then to show the development of the Superman idea through human culture from the earliest Australian Aboriginal notions of super–beings ‘descended” from the sky, through the complex philosophical system of Hinduism, onto the Renaissance concept of the ideal man, via the refinements of Nietzche and finally, down to that smiling, hopeful Joe Shuster sketch; the final embodiment of humanity’s glorious, uplifting notion of the superman become reduced to a drawing, a story for kids, a worthless comic book.

And also what that could mean in a holographic fractal universe, where the smallest part contains and reflects the whole.

Of course the next panel in that sequence is happening in the real world and would show you, the reader, sitting with the latest Superman issue in your hands, deep within the Infant Universe of Qwewq in the Fortress of Solitude, today, wherever you are. In “Neverending,” the reader becomes wrapped in a self–referential loop of story and reality. If you actually, seriously think about what is happening at this point in the story, if you meditate upon the curious entanglement of the real and the fictional, you will become enlightened in this life apparently. According to some texts.

NRAMA: On a personal level, you’ve explored all types of religions and philosophies in your work.  What is your take on religion and how it influences humanity, and the Christian take on Jesus Christ in particular?

GM: I think religion per se, is a ghastly blight on the progress of the human species towards the stars.  At the same time, it, or something like it, has been an undeniable source of comfort, meaning and hope for the majority of poor bastards who have ever lived on Earth, so I’m not trying to write it off completely. I just wish that more people were educated to a standard where they could understand what religion is and how it works. Yes, it got us through the night for a while, but ultimately, it’s one of those ugly, stupid arse–over–backwards things we could probably do without now, here on the Planet of the Apes.

Religion is to spirituality what porn is to sex. It’s what the Hollywood 3–act story template is to real creative writing.

Religion creates a structure which places “special,” privileged people (priests) between ordinary people and the divine, as if there could even be any separation: as if every moment, every thought, every action was not already an expression of dynamic ‘divinity” at work.

As I’ve said before, the solid world is just the part of heaven we’re privileged to touch and play with. You don’t need a priest or a holy man to talk to “god” on your behalf: just close your eyes and say hello. “God” is no more, no less, than the sum total of all matter, all energy, all consciousness, as experienced or conceptualized from a timeless perspective where everything ever seems to present all at once. “God” is in everything, all the time and can be found there by looking carefully. The entire universe, including the scary, evil bits, is a thought “God” is thinking, right now.

As far as I can figure it out from my own reading and my own experience of how the spiritual world works, Jesus was, as they say, way cool: a man who achieved a state of consciousness, which nowadays would get him a diagnosis of temporal lobe epilepsy (in the days of the Emperor Tiberius, he was crucified for his ideas, today he’d be laughed at, mocked or medicated).

This “holistic�� mode of consciousness (which Luthor experiences briefly at the end of All Star Superman) announces itself as a heartbreaking connection, a oneness, with everything that exists...but you don’t have to be Superman to know what that feeling is like. There are a ton of meditation techniques which can take you to this place. I don’t see it as anything supernatural or religious, in fact, I think it’s nothing more than a developmental level of human consciousness, like the ability to see perspective – which children of 4 cannot do but children of 6 can.

Everyone who’s familiar with this upgrade will tell you the same thing: it feels as if “alien” or “angelic” voices – far more intelligent, coherent and kindly than the voices you normally hear in your head – are explaining the structure of time and space and your place in it. 
This identification with a timeless supermind containing and resolving within itself all possible thoughts and contradictions, is what many people, unsurprisingly, mistake for an encounter with “God.”  However, given that this totality must logically include and resolve all possible thoughts and concepts, it can also be interpreted as an actual encounter with God, so I’m not here to give anyone a hard time over interpretation.

Some people have the experience and believe the God of their particular culture has chosen them personally to have a chat with. These people may become born–again Christians, fundamentalist Muslims, devotees of Shiva, or misunderstood lunatics. Some “contactees” interpret the voices they hear erroneously as communications from an otherworldly, alien intelligence, hence the proliferation of “abduction” accounts in recent decades, which share most of their basic details with similar accounts, from earlier centuries, of people being taken away by “fairies” or “little people”.

Some, who like to describe themselves as magicians, will recognize the “alien” voice as the “Holy Guardian Angel”.

In timeless, spaceless consciousness, the singular human mind blurs into a direct experience of the totality of all consciousness that has ever been or will ever be. It feels like talking with God but I see that as an aspect of science, not religion.

As Peter Barnes wrote in “The Ruling Class”, “I know I must be God because when I pray to Him, I find I’m talking to myself.”

 Newsarama: When we spoke earlier this year, you talked about some of your ideas for future All Star stories. Are you moving forward on those, or have you started working on different ideas since then?

Grant Morrison: I haven’t had time to think about them for a while. I did have the stories worked out, and I’d like to do more, but right now it feels like Frank and Jamie and I have said all there is to be said. I don’t know if I’m ready to do All Star Superman with anyone else right now. I have other plans.

NRAMA: You end the book with Superman having uplifted humanity – having inspired them through his sacrifice and great deeds, and with the potential to pass his powers on to humanity still there. Do you plan to explore this concept further, or would you prefer to leave it open–ended?

GM: I may go back to the Son of Superman in some way. At the same time, it’s best left open–ended. I like the idea that Superman gets to have his cake and eat it; he becomes golden and mythical and lives forever as a dream. Yet, he also is able to sire a child who will carry his legacy into the future. He kicks ass in both the spiritual and the temporal spheres!

 NRAMA: The notion of transcendence – always a big part of your work. But the debate about All Star Superman is whether or not it "transcends its genre." Superman becomes transcendent within the series itself, and inspires the beings on Qwewq, but does the work aspire to more than that? Is it simply the greatest version of a Superman story, and that’s enough?

GM: That would certainly be enough if it were true.

It’s a pretty high–level attempt by some smart people to do the Superman concept some justice, is all I can say. It’s intended to work as a set of sci–fi fables that can be read by children and adults alike. I’d like to think you can go to it if you’re feeling suicidal, if you miss your dad, if you’ve had to take care of a difficult, ailing relative, if you’ve ever lost control and needed a good friend to put you straight, if you love your pets, if you wish your partner could see the real you...All Star is about how Superman deals with all of that.

It’s a big old Paul Bunyan style mythologizing of human - and in particular male - experience. In that sense I’d like to think All Star Superman does transcend genre in that it’s intended to be read on its own terms and needs absolutely no understanding of genre conventions or history around it to grasp what’s going on.

In today’s world, in today’s media climate designed to foster the fear our leaders like us to feel because it makes us easier to push around. In a world where limp, wimpy men are forced to talk tough and act ‘badass’ even though we all know they’re shitting it inside. In a world where the measure of our moral strength has come to lie in the extremity of the images we’re able to look at and stomach. In a world, I’m reliably told, that’s going to the dogs, the real mischief, the real punk rock rebellion, is a snarling, ‘fuck you’ positivity and optimism. Violent optimism in the face of all evidence to the contrary is the Alpha form of outrage these days. It really freaks people out.

I have a desire not to see my culture and my fellow human beings fall helplessly into step with a middle class media narrative that promises only planetary catastrophe, as engineered by an intrinsically evil and corrupt species which, in fact, deserves everything it gets.

Is this relentless, downbeat insistence that the future has been cancelled really the best we can come up with? Are we so fucked up we get off on terrifying our children? It’s not funny or ironic anymore and that’s why we wrote All Star Superman the way we did. Everything has changed. ‘Dark’ entertainment now looks like hysterical, adolescent, ‘Zibarro’ crap. That’s what my Final Crisis series is about too.

NRAMA (aka Tim Callahan): Continuing with the theme of transcendence: The words "ineffectual" and "surrender" are repeated throughout the book. Discuss.

GM: Discuss yourself, Callahan! I know you have the facilities and I should think it’s all rather obvious. 


NRAMA: What was the inspiration for the image of Superman in the sun at the end? (I confess this question comes as the result of much unsuccessful Googling)

GM: I didn’t have any specific reference in mind - just that one we‘ve all sort of got in our heads. I drew the figure as a sketch, intended to be reminiscent of William Blake’s cosmic figures, Russian Constructivist Soviet Socialist Worker type posters, and Leonardo’s ‘Proportions of the Human Figure‘. The position of the legs hints at the Buddhist swastika, the clockwise sun symbol. It was to me, the essence of that working class superheroic ideal I mentioned, condensed into a final image of mythic Superman, - our eternal, internal, guiding, selfless, tireless, loving superstar. The daft All Star Superman title of the comic is literalized in this last picture. It’s the ‘fearful symmetry’ of the Enlightenment project - an image of genius, toil, and our need to make things, to fashion art and artifacts, as a form of superhuman, divine imitation.

It was Superman as this fusion of Renaissance/Enlightenment ideas about Man and Cosmos, an impossible union of Blake and Newton. A Pop Art ‘Vitruvian Man‘. The inspiration for the first letter of the new future alphabet!

As you can see, we spent a lot of time thinking about all this and purifying it down to our own version of the gold. I’m glad it’s over.

NRAMA: Finally: What, above all else, would you like people to take away from All Star Superman?

GM: That we spent a lot of time thinking about this!

No. What I hope is that people take from it the unlikelihood that a piece of paper, with little ink drawings of figures, with little written words, can make you cry, can make your heart soar, can make you scared, sad, or thrilled. How mental is that?

That piece of paper is inert material, the corpse of some tree, pulped and poured, then given new meaning and new life when the real hours and real emotions that the writer and the artist, the colorist, the letter the editor translated onto the physical page, meet with the real hours and emotions of a reader, of all readers at once, across time, generations and distance.

And think about how that experience, the simple experience of interacting with a paper comic book, along with hundreds of thousands of others across time and space, is an actual doorway onto the beating heart of the imminent, timeless world of “Myth” as defined above. Not just a drawing of it but an actual doorway into timelessness and the immortal world where we are all one together.

My grief over the loss of my dad can be Superman’s grief, can trigger your own grief, for your own dad, for all our dads. The timeless grief that’s felt by Muslims and Christians and Agnostics alike. My personal moments of great and romantic love, untainted by the everyday, can become Superman’s and may resonate with your own experience of these simple human feelings.

In the one Mythic moment we’re all united, kissing our Lover for the First time, the Last time, the Only time, honoring our dear Dad under a blood red sky, against a darkening backdrop, with Mum telling us it’ll all be okay in the end.

If we were able to capture even a hint of that place and share it with our readers, that would be good enough for me.

[magicalforcesau]

Dancing With Ghosts in Your Garden~ Chapter 13 - Year 2: September

(ao3 link)

King’s Cross station was buzzing with life just as it always was. Crowds were pulling in all directions, making it difficult to follow a specific current. Still, Anakin and his mum navigated the onslaught of people with practiced experience that came more from Shmi’s instincts rather than Anakin’s. It was for this reason that he allowed her to hold his hand as she swam them upstream until they arrived between platforms 9 and 10.

“Now, mum, this is difficult for me to say, but I’m the chosen one now. I’ve got a reputation to uphold. So, while I don’t mind holding your hand, I don’t need anyone else thinking their chosen one is a wuss.”

She raised her eyebrows at him, “Is that so?”

“It’s a shame, it is.” He said with a nod, “We had some good times.”

Shmi snorted, “Who does Spider-Man love and protect more than anyone else in the whole world?”

“His Aunt May.” He said, surprised that his mother would even doubt him knowing that, “Who’s like a mother to him. During the clone saga arc of the Amazing Spider-Man comic run, Aunt May died! Well, we all thought it was her, but-”

“-Exactly,” She smiled, “And would you call Spider-Man weak?”

“Of course not,” He scoffed, “He can take down the entire Sinister Six all by himself!”

“Anakin, even heroes are allowed to love their mothers. Only a fool would brand you weak for that.”

And with that, she clasped Anakin’s hand tightly and led him through the brick wall that divided his two realities. He couldn’t really find much else to say on that, because she’d bested him in his own language. He might have pondered about how unfair this was, but was far too distracted by the tingly feeling that permeated through him as he caught sight of the Hogwarts Express again.

When he tried to push further into the crowd of wizards, who all said their goodbyes to their parents before getting aboard the train, his mother’s grasp tightened a bit.

“Mum?” He looked up at her to see that her eyes were teary, though she ran her arm along her face in a quick attempt to hide this. “What’s wrong?”

She knelt down to be at his level, “Nothing’s wrong, dear. It’s just… Don’t try to grow up too fast on me, okay?”

He wanted to make that promise, but everyday Anakin learned something new about who he was and what he could do. Even just doing his homework this summer made him feel inspired by his own gifts. He could see in his mother’s eyes that she saw the same thing. Still, he wanted nothing more than to take that melancholic look from her. 

“I told you I’ll never grow too old for you, mum, and I meant that. Even when I save the world, I’ll still love you.”

She brushed his bangs, which had grown a bit longer, out of his eyes and kept his face between her hands, “I know, my darling, but you know I worry.”

“But why?” He had to try one more time. He really believed that his mother might share more about her experiences in the wizarding world with the prophecy becoming public information. He was wrong on that account. 

Instead, she just seemed to only grow sadder. 

“Ani, the only thing harder than being the chosen one expected of all this responsibility and heroics, is to be the mother that must let her child fulfill that.”

He blinked, “I’ll be safe, I promise.” 

“Do not make promises you cannot keep,” She sighed.

“I can try.” He said quietly.

“And I’ll hold you to that,” She smiled and stood back to her feet, “I look forward to hearing of all the safe adventures you embark on.”

He returned her smile, though couldn’t help but notice that she still seemed quite forlorn. He wished they had more time to talk about it. He still wished he could bring her with him, try as he might to seem like he didn’t.

Behind her, some of his classmates waved excitedly at him and whispered amongst themselves to their parents, likely saying exactly who Anakin was. He smiled back and then looked back to his mother’s curious eyes.

“And remember those who chose you before this prophecy did.” She said.

“How could I forget- Oh, hey Ferus! Good to see you!” He cut himself off to wave to an older student that regarded him from across the platform.

His mum kissed his forehead and he didn’t resist too much for her sake (or that’s what he told himself), “I love you, Anakin. I’ll see you again soon.”

“Love you too!” Anakin chirped and then turned to the train, still awestruck at how magnificent it truly was. Sometimes, he struggled to realize the fact that this got to be his life. 

He turned around once more on the edge of the train, waving proudly at his mum. 

It was going to be a great year.

***

Rex had to resist rolling his eyes in good nature over his best friend’s obvious liking to the sudden stardom he’d risen to. He could understand why, on some level, everyone had taken a sudden interest in Anakin. The chosen one prophecy had existed longer than any of the other orbs in the Ministry of Magic. Valorum, the Minster, himself, did an entire exposé where he discussed just how untouched the prophecies had been for the past millennia. 

And sure, it did sound rather incredible what was going to happen, if anyone ever got around to deciphering what it meant. To Rex, Anakin was always going to be just Anakin- his best friend and co-conspirator, whose tongue turned fat whenever talking to a certain Gryffindor third year girl.

Speaking of such, Anakin was going to have a conniption when he noticed Padmé and her group of girls were in the compartment just across the way from the one Rex chose. Since he already knew he was going to ask, he claimed Echo and Fives’ extendable ear in an attempt to listen in. 

The engine on the locomotive let out one final warning call, alerting any stragglers to get their bums into high gear lest they miss the train altogether. Rex had never known anyone to do so, but Fives and Echo allegedly had a classmate their first year who missed the train and no one ever saw him again. 

Whether or not that was true or just a means of them getting him out of bed early, was debatable. Hogwarts was full of strange urban legends.

Finally, Anakin meandered his way down the aisle, stopping to talk to every single person who called out to him. This time, Rex did roll his eyes, especially as Anakin was even conferring with Asajj Ventress, who was nothing but nasty about him the previous year. 

Really, he hoped all of this wouldn’t get to his head.

Surprisingly enough, when Anakin walked past Padmé’s compartment and into the one Rex occupied, he offered little more than a polite greeting after the girl said hello. Instead, he sat down across from Rex without much explanation. He didn’t even look the least bit flustered after encountering Padmé of all people.

“Rex!” Anakin said cheerily.

“I’m sorry, are you daft?” Rex shot back with a questioning look.

“What?” His friend stared back blankly.

“Are you daft?” Rex repeated slowly and then leaned forward to whisper, “Do you not see who’s right over there? I thought you would be over the moon right now! In fact, why aren’t you over the moon right now?”

“Because I’m over all of that,” Anakin waved off, “Is Padmé the most beautiful girl in the entire world? Yes, but I’m gonna be busy with all of this world-saving I’ve got to do.”

“Oh brother,” Rex leaned back in his seat, “You’re kidding me.”

“I’m serious!” Anakin squeaked and then leaned forward to shut the compartment door so they had more privacy to discuss this, “She’s still the love of my life, but I’ve made my peace that I can’t have her.”

“Okay, so you’re giving up.”

“Not giving up.” Anakin said, “Heroes don’t give up.”

Rex’s frown deepened as he considered the cocky Gryffindor across from him, “Kinda sounds like giving up to me.”

“My mum got me thinking about Spider-Man.”

“You’re losing me, mate.” Rex groaned. 

“So,” Anakin sat up, “Superheroes can’t have girlfriends or boyfriends, because then the villains use them as a pawn to get to the hero. I already have my mum! I can’t risk having anyone else that Dooku could use to foil my plans of foiling his plans.”

“Why the bloody hell would Dooku care about a tween romance?” Rex asked, “Particularly a one-sided one?”

“Because that’s how bad guys work, Rex!” Anakin insisted, “Trust me on this, because I’m an expert.”

“Because let me guess, you’re the chosen one.” Rex returned.

“Well, yeah, but mostly because I’ve done my homework on that account.”

“If by homework, I’m sure you mean watching copious amounts of television.” Obi-Wan drawled as he leaned against the now-open compartment. Even as a prefect, he was the only student fully dressed in his robes already. Rex was unsure how he didn’t notice him standing there. 

“You don’t even know what television is!” Anakin countered in a high-pitched voice that drew the girls’ attention from across the way. He sat back and grimaced at their muffled giggles.

“I do so.” Obi-Wan said, “I just don’t understand the full logistics of it.”

It was true, most wizards didn’t know much on the technological aspects of the muggle world. From what Anakin told Rex about television and electricity, it all sounded very exciting and thrilling. They were clearly missing out on something pretty great and Satine gave great indication of this too, even if her idea of exciting programming probably wasn’t the same as Rex’s.

“Please tell Mr. Chosen One that giving up on love simply because an orb decided to glow for him is utterly ridiculous.” Rex said.

“If anything, Obi-Wan would support my decision to side on the airs of rationale.”

Obi-Wan snorted, “Perhaps, if you were considering this on a school-level, but not to become a hero in tights.”

“I would look good in tights.” Anakin argued, which only told Rex that he likely had a version of his own superhero image sketched out somewhere. If someone was going to see it, it was going to be Rex.

“No one looks good in tights.” And Obi-Wan said that like he unfortunately had experience on this matter, “Anyway, remain in your seats, boys, we’re heading out soon.”

When he shut the door behind him, Anakin scowled, “Why would you tell him about my plan to sacrifice love? I don’t want it getting around!”

“Who’s he going to tell?” Rex asked, “My brother? Satine? Those are the only people he talks to.”

“Yeah,” Anakin said, “You have a point there.”

Rex caught him sneaking a small wave in Padmé’s direction.

***

When Obi-Wan finally entered the compartment he usually shared with Cody and Satine, he dropped down into his seat with a sigh.

“Mate, the term hasn’t even started yet.” Cody teased, “Don’t stress me out with your stress.”

“On the plus side, no potions for you this year.” Obi-Wan smiled, “As for me, I just didn’t sleep well last night, which is strange, since it’s usually my best sleep of the summer.”

“I know the feeling.” Cody grinned, “This season of Quidditch is going to be insane! It’s going to be Gryffindor’s big comeback year, I tell you, and here’s why:”

Obi-Wan allowed his best friend to go on his lengthy rant about just why Gryffindor was going to pull through that year, which included the fact that Rex was going to try out and show up all the other second year tryouts, especially with how hard Cody trained him that summer. Other than that, he lost Obi-Wan in a lot of random dribble that didn’t really register, considering Cody was still trying to be vague about his plan.

“Can’t exactly squeal the goods to you, mate. You are technically a House Cup champion, after all.”

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, “Yes, of course, well, get your rants out now before Satine joins us. You know she’s not nearly as keen to listen to this as I am.”

“Where is she, anyway?” Cody asked, “I’d hate for you to be the only prefect with a stick up their bum this year.”

“Rest assured, she’s in the restroom getting changed.” He said, “Not without teasing me for arriving dressed in my robes.”

“It is hot outside, you know.”

“And you know that the clothes my parents would have me wear would have me teased forever.” He retorted.

“Yeah, you can’t afford that after the-”

“-Pajamas, I know. Satine mentioned it in about seven letters this summer to remind me. Anakin hadn’t even seen them and mentioned them too. I swear, you all need new material.”

“And so do you,” Cody snorted, “New clothing material, that is.”

Obi-Wan groaned, “That was pitiful.”

“Really? Because I found it quite funny.” He said, “Not as funny as Ventress’s face is going to be when Gryffindor takes the house cup and shakes up the entire division by-”

Obi-Wan was more than happy to allow him to continue, letting his eyes drift to peer down the aisle of the train, catching a glimpse of Satine as she walked their way, robe in hand. When they’d been to Diagon Alley just a couple weeks prior, he’d of course noticed that she’d… Matured over the summer. However, seeing her in the uniforms that she wore practically every day was something of a divine intervention.

She always carried herself with confidence, but it seemed like the rest of her caught up to such a bold nature. He suddenly found himself feeling very childish in comparison- all skin and bones- while she no longer looked like the young girl that occasionally had him flustered. He couldn’t help but feel a bit self-conscious about how starkly different they seemed now.

She looked sophisticated, wise beyond her years, and utterly brilliant.

Her legs looked like they went on for days.

He shook his head, trying to bring himself back into the present, but only found his face grow red as she drew nearer.  He wasn’t even sure if Cody was still excitedly talking, as the boy only would go on until he was stopped. He never ran out of things to say about Quidditch.

Whatever spell he’d been under broke the moment someone whistled as Satine walked by, causing her to turn to them and spit back in retaliation. Obi-Wan felt himself see red for a different reason entirely. It seemed as she passed, even more people took notice of how much she’d transformed over the summer. 

And many of the boys, including the seventh years, liked what they saw. 

Obi-Wan did not like the way that made him feel.

“Can you believe the utter buffoonery?” Satine groaned as she sat down beside Obi-Wan, cutting Cody off from his rant about defensive measures in overtime. 

“Can you be more specific?” Cody asked without missing a beat.

“These… Arseholes are acting like they’ve never seen me before.” She said, adjusting her skirt and then looking at Obi-Wan, which he averted his gaze immediately, “It’s like they all woke up with their heads on backwards.”

“It’s extremely inappropriate.” Obi-Wan found himself agreeing with a little too much enthusiasm that drew a cocked eyebrow from Cody. “She’s a person for God’s sake! Not to mention a prefect. It’s like you’re some kind of walking carnival act for them to gawk at.”

“It’s just because they think you’re hot now.” Cody said with a shrug, “They’ll get over it.”

“That doesn’t make it right.” Satine said. “And I haven’t gotten hot. I haven’t done anything!”

“Exactly!” Obi-Wan said, and cringed as Satine glared at him.

“You don’t need to always be so agreeable, you know.” She snapped.

“Well, what would you rather I do? Hoot and holler like some sort of invalid?” He retorted, opening a book on his lap to hopefully distract from how red his face was, “For the record, I’ve always thought you looked quite fit. Didn’t you, Cody?”

Cody, who had been staring very intensely at the candy cart, snapped back to them, “Oh- er, yes, sure.”

“Very convincing stuff, boys.” She grimaced, “Thank you.”

Obi-Wan sighed, “Yes, well, I still maintain that they’re all idiots.”

“I’m sure you do.” Cody said.

It was going to be a long train ride.

***

Ventress glowered as she watched more students gather around Skywalker’s compartment, asking eager questions about what he’d done with his summer. It was pitiful to see how the masses swarmed to their newest morsel of gossip and intrigue like they were quite literally dependent on it for sustenance. They would suck the life out of Skywalker until he had nothing else to give, turning on him in seconds flat. In a way, she knew what that felt like better than anyone- to be used.

Her culture, her people, was familiar with it. It was engraved in their history to be cast to the sidelines in favor of a more civilized age. They were marked savages, heathens, monsters while the filth known as muggles got to parade about and mock them with pointy hats, cartoonish movies, and stereotypes that only fueled the fire of their isolation.

Relegated to the castle that approached from over the hill- not allowed to flaunt their gifts amongst the whole world, to display dominance. It was vile. 

Wizards, after all, did the proper thing if their child was born without magic. They didn’t allow them to go and ruin someone else’s culture. Ventress always believed in nature as opposed to nurture and all the nurture in the world couldn’t make a muggle-born an actual witch or wizard. It just wasn’t possible.

She knew how people saw her. Her bone white face, icy blue eyes, and close-cropped white hair made her stand out in a crowd. While her family never spoke of it, she represented the witches of olde- not nearly as posh and significantly more malicious than what proper wizards prefer to display at the surface. 

Where muggles would have thrown her to the gallows, the elite purebloods took her in. 

Skywalker was a fool for believing he was lucky. In fact, the stark realization between how people treated him now vs. the year before (when no one cared or knew that he existed) would have been startling to anyone with a working brain. However, the little second year just continued to eat up the fact that he was chosen.

Ventress knew something about that as well and considered, as she absently doodled in the top corner of the open spell book on her lap, how it wasn’t always what it was cut out to be. 

“You think he’s going to be a problem this year?” Faro Argyus asked as he leaned back in the seat opposite to hers. 

Faro always looked like he smelled something bad. To his credit, this time might actually ring true. 

She sighed, unsure when she agreed to having him sit in her compartment at all, “If you truly believe some snotty little second year is going to pose any true threat to you, Argyus, perhaps you aren’t as tough as you believe you are.”

He growled, “I’m not talking about Quidditch.”

“I never said that you were.” She leaned on her hand as she looked at him.

His face needed work, but he was quite chiseled otherwise and even Ventress could appreciate that. Luckily, he was about as smart as a forest troll, so he never exuded much critical thinking. If he did, she believed the sky would truly open up and rain pigs on them all.

“To answer your original question,” She added and folded up her book nicely, “I think Skywalker is a walking problem in general.”

“I wish he’d start up that cheating ring again.” He huffed and shifted in his seat, “Maybe come up with one that’ll take care of NEWT’s.”

“That wasn’t even him.” She rolled her eyes, “That was the muggle-born from Calgary.”

“Figures.” He sniffed, “Only a muggle-born would get caught.”

“Thank the maker he’s gone.” Shu Mai, a Gossam sixth year with deep gray and wrinkly skin and a long head that curved up, said tactly, “Their lot is lucky they go here at all. If they blow their chance, that should be it.”

Ventress glanced down the aisle to where the incessant do-gooder, Kenobi, and his muggle sidekick, Kryze, shooed away the gathering crowd, saying something of it being against safety measures to be up and standing on a moving train. 

Before they, themselves, moved to sit down, they were stopped by a Ravenclaw named Fenn Rau, who seemed quite interested in talking with Kryze about something indistinct. Whatever it was, it made Kenobi’s face go intriguingly dark in a way that Ventress believed suited him. He should tap into it more often to unleash the power that he was truly capable of. However, that was just her opinion. 

“Seems Skywalker isn’t the only one gaining more attention this year.” She said and kicked Faro in the shin as she caught his stare lingering on Kryze, “Have you any self-respect?”

“Pretty packaging, that’s all.” He shrugged, but glanced back, “If Kenobi gets a good shag out of her, I’ll get why he’s put in so much time.”

“You’re swine, Faro.” Shu Mai accurately assessed with her heavy-lidded eyes.

“And I’m okay with that.” He said. “Actually, there’s plenty of hot merchandise up for sale this year.”

“I don’t remember asking you to sit with me.” Ventress fired back.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. You’re on the list.” He winked.

“Come anywhere near me and you’ll be turned into an actual piece of merchandise to be immortalized in some generic department store.” She fired off.

Faro blinked, trying to process that, before listing off the many girls he’d taken notice of this year. Shu Mai also looked like she regretted her choice of seat, but that was what happened when your friends were all upperclassmen and graduated already. Ventress thought she would suffer a similar fate, but realized instantly that she was above the sentiment. 

Night was approaching outside of the train as stars began to break up darkness’ monotony. Away from all the bustling towns and cars that polluted the sky, they were afforded only a clear display of night as it was intended. 

Perhaps, the state of affairs would be just as transparent. 

Soon.

***

The train hissed into Hogsmeade station and Anakin and Rex looked up as prefects started opening compartments looking for first years.

“Oh yeah! The boats,” Anakin thought back to his experience the previous year, “That’s just for first years right?”

“Yep, Fives told me they make the rest of us walk, but with the look Echo was giving him I’m assuming that’s not true,” Rex told him as he stood, pulling his shoulder bag off the rack above him.

“I certainly hope not,” Anakin had walked partially to Hogsmeade last year and it hadn’t gone very well at all, “And I doubt they’ll let us break off to use the tunnel.”

“That tunnel was practically longer than walking,” Rex shook his head.

“Hey you lot? Planning on riding all the way back or are you coming to school?” Cody popped his head in waving at the two of them to follow. It seemed Anakin and Rex weren’t the only 2nd years who weren’t sure how they would be traversing to the castle this year, as many of them flocked towards any older students they happened to know.

Anakin ducked as a trunk soared over their heads and slotted itself neatly onto a cart pushed by an old witch Anakin hadn’t seen before. In fact there were several carts all loaded precariously with trunks and rucksacks. One was filled purely with empty owl cages, seemingly having let all their owl friends free. Anakin hadn’t gotten a cage for Artoo yet, but he knew the owl would have no trouble finding Hogwarts as it was his first home after all. He made a note to check up on him later.

“They’re volunteers,” Cody said suddenly and Anakin looked up to see him waving at a few of the older witches and wizards, “Hogsmeade survives off business from the school, although you two aren’t allowed in yet,” He reminded them with a stern look, “Every year they help get our things to the castle so we don’t have to try and squeeze them into-” He didn’t need to finish, and if he did Anakin didn’t hear him. Carriages, pulled by seemingly nothing were dotted along the road, waiting for students to file in. Cody hardly blinked as he grabbed the edge of one and swung on up.

Rex beat Anakin to the edge of the carriage climbing up with a little more caution and a lot more interest than his older brother. Anakin made to follow when someone called his name from behind.

“Skywalker!” A 7th year was calling for him. He was fuzzy on the name, but what did it matter. 7th years ruled the school, in more ways than even his former mentor could. The boy was waving him over, he wanted Anakin to join him and his fellow 7th year friends.

He flicked his gaze back to where Rex was laughing at something Cody had said. Surely Rex wouldn’t miss him, it was only a short distance to the castle after all. He made up his mind and hurried over.

“The name’s Ozzel,” The boy stuck a hand out and Anakin shook it, “Glad to have you, Chosen One,” Anakin felt pride swell like a balloon in his chest as he climbed the steep steps into the carriage.

“Ey, Chosen One!” He ended up being sandwiched between Ozzel and a Hufflepuff girl he didn’t recognize. Across from him was a Hufflepuff boy and two Slytherin girls. He sat as tall as a 12 year old boy could and happily answered a few of the questions he was most often getting asked. Things about the beast that had plagued their school just a year prior or about vanquishing Dooku. When they were finally satisfied Anakin glanced over his shoulder, he’d missed the good view of the castle.

They all stepped off the carriage and waved goodbye to Anakin before looping around the back to enter the Great Hall. Anakin moved to enter as well, but a large hand grabbed his shoulder to stop him. Looking up he was greeted by the stern expression of his least favorite professor.

“Go this way and you’re going to get yourself trampled,” Anakin wrinkled his nose, trying to figure out what on earth Windu was on about as it seemed a little early in the semester for riddles. Windu sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose with his opposite hand, “The carts are pulled by thesterals,” He took Anakin’s hand and brought it forward until it hit something fleshy and cold. Anakin yanked his hand back in shock.

“But, what? They’re invisible!”

“Invisible to some, not all,” The Professor put his hand on what Anakin could only assume was the creatures neck, “Only those who have seen death first hand can see them,” Anakin was just about to ask if Windu could see them when he heard Rex call his name angrily from behind him.

“Where did you go?” He crossed his arms, “Figured we lost you at the station or something.”

“Sorry Rex I-” He thought for a minute before continuing, “I just saw a friend I wanted to say hi to,” Rex didn’t look convinced, but still waved for Anakin to follow him into the Great Hall.

“Sure you did.”

***

The sorting ceremony went on without a hitch as it typically did. It was nice not to have the stress of watching to choose a mentor. Obi-Wan had quickly eaten through the main course of dinner. Meals at Hogwarts were always so warm and inviting, definitely a great way to welcome back students for the year. He was, as usual, a little more interested in the desserts, but before he could grab a second slice of pie a hush drew across the Great Hall.

He turned and gazed up towards the teacher’s stand to see Headmaster Yoda raising his hands in the air, asking for silence.

“Welcome you, I do, back to Hogwarts,” He hummed as the remaining chatter died out, “Many announcements to make, I have,” Many students groaned at that, desperate to have the night to catch up with friends. Yoda was always one who could sense such notions though so he smiled, eyes glinting, “Leave those for later, I will. All but one,” He extended out his hand and an adult, who was sitting at the Professor’s table, stood up. Obi-Wan didn’t recognize the man. He was green, clearly aquatic in nature, with long tendrils extending from his head like hair, “Your new DADA teacher, this is, Professor Kit Fisto.”

The Great Hall all clapped politely, before slowly the atmosphere drifted back towards the meal. The new professor sat down and the Headmaster turned to talk with Mace Windu at his side.

“Kit Fisto,” Satine considered the name, “I haven’t heard of him, haven’t read of him… What about you Ben?”

Ben looked away from her for a moment pondering, “Not that I can recall.”

“So that’s a no then,” Satine sighed. There was very little he couldn’t recall after all. Professor Fisto was probably another retired auror, but before he could continue down his line of possibilities he was nearly shoved to the side as a Ravenclaw 5th year squeezed his way between him and Satine. Obi-Wan had to blink a few times just to make sure that this indeed was reality, while the boy stuck his hand out to Satine.

“Nice to see you again, Satine,” He greeted her, and because Satine was always polite she shook his hand.

“Fenn Rau was it?” Satine asked and Obi-Wan felt like his eyes were glued on their hands until he let hers go, “I helped you with your charms paper last year right?”

“And I’m forever grateful,” His voice sounded awfully cheery to be talking about homework, Obi-Wan thought. Surely he and Satine were the only ones who truly appreciated a good paper. As if just now feeling Obi-Wan’s eyes on the back of his head Fenn turned to shake hands with him as well.

“Of course, I don’t want to leave you out of the loop either, Kenobi,” The boy smiled as Obi-Wan took his hand and gave it a firm shake, not unlike his father’s, “I’m excited to work with you as well, as one of Ravenclaw’s newest prefects,” it was only then that Obi-Wan saw the glint of a prefect’s badge sitting atop the 5th years robes. Perhaps it would be a long year after all.

***

They had all thankfully been given the opportunity to catch up with their friends- exchanging summer anecdotes, talking about the upcoming year, speculating about the mystery that was their new DADA professor. Regardless of their various experiences, everyone could steadily agree that it was good to be back.

Because of the various security breaches from the previous year as well as the actual monster that nearly destroyed the school and those who inhabited it, parents and guardians had justifiable reason to be concerned for the incoming school year. Headmaster Yoda’s answer to this had been to implement a conference day. This allotted time for concerned parents to meet with their child’s professors, view newly implemented security measures, and assuage their fears.

“Safe, our students should feel.” Yoda had announced from his propped podium at breakfast. All of the students were haphazardly mixed together as they always were for meals that were not dinner. Even in the midst of the excited chatter full of catching up from summer break, everyone stopped dead when Yoda began to speak.

Anakin didn’t know what it was about the little green wizard, but he sure knew how to command the room. 

“Welcome, all parents are.” He said firmly and cast his bright green eyes across the entire student body, “All blood types, of course.”

He had been, of course, referring to the muggle-borns, which was surely the question on everyone’s mind. This meant, to the shock of many, that muggles would be allowed at Hogwarts for the first time since its opening. As guests, sure, but it was still a big deal. Despite growing up around muggles his entire life, Anakin could see how this would bristle people. They didn’t know or understand magic. This school was meant for wizards only. Muggles could get hurt on the grounds and no one wanted to see that. 

In lieu of this announcement, the student body didn’t fall into that comforting sense of easy camaraderie that made the castle feel like home. Instead, the knowledge that their parents would be invading their spaces to inspect and essentially deem Hogwarts fit for them in a week’s time, made it very difficult to relax at all. 

Even Anakin was a bit worried that his mum might learn of the more dangerous events from his first year. She certainly would not have enjoyed hearing he was kidnapped for a brief period of time or that nobody notified her immediately. 

Despite how low he felt at one point in the spring, Anakin couldn’t imagine being anywhere else but at Hogwarts. His recent surge in popularity was proof of his belonging. How else was he supposed to protect his people if he wasn’t trained to do so? They needed him and he liked the concept of them needing him. 

Obi-Wan was probably the only student not at least a little on edge, which Anakin found more peculiar than anything else. After his potions class, which afforded him the chance to visit one of his favorite professors, Anakin slipped away from the crowd of chattering students to find his mentor calmly shepherding some new first year Ravenclaws. Of course, he was still incredibly diligent about his job- taking care to make sure they got on their way without getting lost. He just lacked that rigid demeanor that every other student seemed to carry with them or in Obi-Wan’s case, the kind he carried most of the time anyway. 

Anakin sighed as he considered the new students. It was hard to believe that it had been an entire year since he was in their shoes. They were so young, so unknowing, so naive. They could learn a lot from him.

“Did you need something, Anakin?” Obi-Wan looked over at him. 

“Oh, I was just seeing if you needed help rounding up the little kids.” He said casually, “Seeing as I probably know this castle better than most at this point.”

Despite the quirk that pulled at his mentor’s usually serious mouth, Anakin knew Obi-Wan couldn’t exactly contest the point with all of Anakin’s misadventures through the secret tunnel system. 

“I’m sure you heard that the tunnels are open for public transit now.” He said, “And are guarded at all times by enchanted suits of armor so as to prevent any mischief.”

Anakin did hear that, but he didn’t appreciate the way Obi-Wan took care to cast an accusatory look at him when he said the word mischief, even if it wasn’t entirely misplaced. He also didn’t voice his obvious disappointment that the tunnels were no longer just his little secret that he shared with Palpatine and Rex. With everyone knowing, they basically just became additional glorified hallways. 

“Well, everyone should be thanking me for finding them quicker ways to get to and from class then.” He said with a nod.

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to answer with what would no doubt be a well-timed sarcastic reply, but was cut off by a loud “WOOP” and cheer of Anakin’s name by a third year Ravenclaw named Jax Pavan, who was merely passing by. This was soon followed by his friend, a Hufflepuff named Tru Veld’s, own loud acknowledgement of Anakin. 

“Hey guys!” Anakin waved and beamed at them. 

“My my, you’ve certainly gained some instant popularity.” Obi-Wan said once the boys passed down the moving staircases. 

Anakin shrugged like it wasn’t as big of a deal to him as it was. After all, he’d never been popular before. Hearing Obi-Wan admit it made it feel like he had pop rocks in his stomach. It was confirmation.

“Well, word does travel fast.” Anakin said with the wave of a hand at another passing fan, “I am just choosing to embrace that fact for once.”

“As long as you don’t allow it to interfere with your studies.” Obi-Wan said sternly, “Even chosen ones need to pass their classes.”

“We’re not even through the first week of school and you’re already lecturing me?” Anakin complained, “You’re worse than Windu.”

“Just because I’m no longer technically your mentor doesn’t mean I don’t have your best interest in mind.” Obi-Wan said with a shrug.

“Oh, that’s right, so that means I no longer technically have to listen to you anymore.” Anakin puffed out his chest in pride at deducing that one. 

“I’m still a prefect, Anakin.” He deadpanned, “The only thing that’s changed between us is I am now in the jurisdiction of being able to give you detention should you require it.”

He remembered his detentions with Windu with the disdain of someone that was never going to get those hours back. He really did not want to repeat the same strokes and end up there again. Plus, he quite liked having Obi-Wan as his mentor. While innately powerful and necessary to the fate of the universe, Anakin still couldn’t quite figure out how to scribe the perfect essay.

“I suppose it would be quite lame if I don’t score high marks.” Anakin reasoned, “Being the chosen one and all.”

“If I’d known a prophecy would have gotten you to do your homework on time, I would have taken up poetry at some point last year.” He said.

“You’re telling me you haven’t been reading that goofy stuff this entire time?” He asked.

Obi-Wan cracked a smile and gestured his hand out, neither confirming nor denying this. He wouldn’t be surprised in the slightest. Obi-Wan was always discussing archaic books with Satine or Qui-Gon, “Now, Mr. Chosen One, I highly recommend you see your way off to your Defense Against the Dark Arts class.”

His uniform was pressed and perfect as ever- complete with a prefect button shining from being recently polished and shoes that endured the same fate. There wasn’t a hair out of place on his well-sculpted head and there didn’t appear to be any tension gripping at his form. That being said, Obi-Wan had clearly gone through a bit of a growth spurt over the summer and was even taller than he was last year, making him appear longer and lankier. 

However, Anakin liked to think he could read him pretty well and saw none of the usual signs of unease: no tight frown, clenched jaw or hands, red ears, or intense calculative stare. Instead, he just seemed full of pure duty and focus. 

Yes, Obi-Wan was far too serene for someone that stood a lot to risk with being ripped from school after the parent conferences. Everyone knew he was in the running for Head Boy and Anakin didn’t even fully understand the significance for such a title besides the fact that it was a big deal to wizards. 

“But what about the first years?” He complained, “You might need my help.”

“Professor Fisto might be new, but he’s no fool. He’d never believe I require the assistance of a second year to accomplish such a feat. Besides, I think I can handle escorting a lost child or two. I certainly had no issue getting you to class.”

Well, Anakin had fallen down a staircase on his first day, but he’d had worse days in the past.

“You know, you seem awfully chill.” Anakin finally accused him with narrowed eyes and an outstretched pointed finger.

“I’m always chill!” Obi-Wan objected with a slight crack in his voice, but even the word chill sounded foreign coming from his mouth. Perhaps, this was because it was not usually a word so readily used to describe him. 

“One, no you’re not.” Anakin countered, “And two, everyone in school is freaking out about their parents coming and pulling them out of Hogwarts. I figured this would have you written all over it as far as panic attacks go.”

“Contrary to popular belief, I see no reason for concern,” Obi-Wan said simply and earnestly. 

Still, Anakin stared at him for a long moment to try and look for any of the indicators that he was lying. He didn’t know exactly what to look for with the ever-trained Obi-Wan, but he’d seen enough cop shows to know there were always tells.

He placed a hand on his shoulder, “Anakin, I appreciate your consideration, but really, I’m alright. I do not believe my parents would see any place as a better fit for me than Hogwarts. After all, my family has been in attendance since the first generation of students.”

“Your family is that old?” Anakin couldn’t even trace back to his grandparents on either side, let alone know what his forefathers were doing back in their day. Based on his minimal impression on Obi-Wan’s family, he couldn’t decide if that was a positive or negative thing.

“It certainly has its legacy.” He said instead, but shook his head before devolving into what would surely be a very robotic history lesson, “And besides, my parents are far too busy to just drop everything for a school event. They’ve got much to keep up with the family business.”

That would explain why the Kenobi’s were never at any Quidditch matches, but Anakin had never made such a connection until now. While the sixth year prefect didn’t sound or seem the least bit sad over this, Anakin still felt a bit bad. Even if he was nervous about what she might say should she learn of his incident with Dooku, Anakin was still excited to show his mum his bunk, classrooms, and Quidditch locker. 

Even if he was grown up, he still liked having someone who took the care and time to worry about him. Absently, he wondered why Obi-Wan wouldn’t want that too. 

As he stepped foot into DADA, which would conclude his day, he shrugged off the concern, realizing not for the first time that Obi-Wan was a great deal older than him. Perhaps, worrying about such frivolous matters wasn’t in his coding.

***

“Are we sure bringing all of the parents on property is such a good idea, Headmaster?” Mace Windu asked from his position across from Yoda. As usual, Gryffindor’s head of house never opted to sit, though Yoda always offered it to him. Sometimes, he believed that the former auror liked having him crane his neck even further to look at him. However, the wiser part of Yoda understood that Mace was simply always on the move. 

He had been the most uneasy about the decision to open Hogwarts’ doors to the parents, feeling that they were simply opening their dirty laundry to those that might blow it out of proportion.

“Their children live here for the greater part of the year, Professor Windu.” Sheev Palpatine said carefully, “Should they not feel secure in that decision?”

Mace bristled, “I understand that, Professor, but hosting guests feels a bit like welcoming trouble into our lair so soon after we’ve just increased security.”

“And you believe the parent of one of our students is capable of evil?” Palpatine asked, still maintaining his persistent sense of calm that was often needed in these weekly meetings. 

“One of our own was capable, Sheev.” Windu shot back, “No one is above suspicion.”

“I can’t completely disagree with Mace.” Qui-Gon voiced for the first time. Though this was his first year as Ravenclaw’s head of house, this was not the first meeting he’d attended. It only seemed natural now.

Windu, just as everyone else, seemed surprised by this.

“It’s been known to happen every once in a while.” Qui-Gon smirked at the beguilement of the room, “We aren’t entirely sure who we can and can’t trust. One thing was made clear from last year: Anakin Skywalker is the chosen one, which means attempts on his life will be made.”

“Exactly,” Windu nodded firmly, “We don’t know who Dooku’s got working for him. It could be anyone.”

Unfortunately, they didn’t know much about Dooku’s plots for evil in general. After a relentless search that spread across the entire summer and alerting all aurors to remain on the highest level of awareness since the darkest of ages, it seemed the outed Sith lord who called himself Tyranus had disappeared into the shadows.

Yoda knew it was only a matter of time before he showed himself once again. 

Professor Shaak Ti sighed, “Of course I care for the boy’s safety, but is this school not the safest place for him? I’m sure you’ve all heard the rumors. If enough parents pull their children from Hogwarts, we don’t have a school.” 

“And think of the poor muggle borns, who would otherwise have nowhere else to learn magic.” Palpatine said.

“I understand that fears must be assuaged,” Qui-Gon said, “If we lead with fear, we’ve got no true ammunition towards the building Sith offense. We simply do not have the luxury of denying that a darker time is approaching and we must do everything in our power to prevent it.”

“Including gaining the favor of the parents, most of whom, Hogwarts is their alma mater as well.” Shaak Ti said. 

“Why can we not hold these conferences in the office space in Diagon Alley as we’ve done when there were concerned parents before?” Windu asked. 

“Comforting, transparency can be,” Yoda said firmly, “Unsettling, secrets are, but correct, all of your concerns are as well. Prepared for the worst, we must be.”

“And how do we do that if we swing our doors wide open?” 

“Preemptive actions, I have taken.” Yoda nodded, “On duty, officers from the Ministry of Magic will be.”

Former aurors, the toughest of which, rarely fully retired if they hadn’t fallen on the job. It had thankfully been a fairly peaceful age up until the previous year, meaning there were more surviving aurors than in the history of the Ministry. Some went into teaching, as Dooku and Windu had, but most went into security for the Ministry or freelance. Yoda had been sure to nab the best of the best to preserve and protect their school in this uncertain time. 

“Headmaster, as much as I support the notion of protecting our students, that might further instill the notion of fear in the parents.” Palpatine offered.

“Undercover, they will be. Unseen, unless necessary.” 

Yoda prayed they would not be.

***

Satine truly didn’t have the time of day to be nervous for parent conferences. That was due to the fact that she was far too busy being absolutely elated over the whole idea. She’d done extensive reading on the history of Hogwarts (from none other than Hogwarts: A History) and in all its time of schooling, muggles had never set foot within its gates. This meant that even when something as tragic as a student death happened, the parents were not permitted on the grounds to retrieve their child if they were of muggle descent. Such rules changed to simply stating that no parents could step within Hogwarts, but were often danced around by pure and half-bloods, whose parents sometimes came to the Quidditch pitches to watch their matches. 

While she never did (and wouldn’t ever) play Quidditch, she wouldn’t have minded an excuse to drag her mum to at least see the school her daughter had been dedicating time to. Even the graduation ceremony had always occurred in a field discrete enough to shroud the outline of the castle in the distance. This meant that it took a great leap of faith for muggles to send their children away to a school they’ve never so much as seen. Luckily, Hogwarts was extremely reputable and in Satine’s case, witches and wizards were very convincing.

She smiled fondly at the memory of when she first received her letter.

“Did you hear they’re pushing back Quidditch tryouts this year?” Cody complained around a mouth full of eggs. 

“You might have mentioned it once… twice… or what is it, Satine?” Obi-Wan turned to her wryly.

“I’d say we’re rounding on the fifteenth time.” She answered after some thought. “This morning.”

Both laughed, but Cody was far too cross over the matter to join in on their jest. Instead, he continued muttering under his breath about the injustice of it all and how this was going to set them back significantly.

“A load of hogwash it is.”

“It’s only for a week.” She offered as the owls fluttered through the windows, carrying the first batch of letters from home for many expecting witches and wizards. As a carefully sealed letter fluttered in front of her, thanks to her faithful and beautiful snow owl, Copikla, many others followed for the students around her. She gently ran a finger along the belly of the fluffy bird as she used her other hand to peel open the envelope.

She grinned at her mother’s beautiful cursive handwriting and felt an immediate sense of warmth wash over her as someone would when ingesting a pepperup potion. Hogwarts was definitely her home, but sometimes she did yearn to have her two worlds come together- or at least, the better parts of both. 

“I think my mum is just as excited as I am to have her at Hogwarts.” She said brightly, still scanning her eyes across the page, “You know, to finally get the chance to see everything I’ve been dribbling on about for years.”

“You? Dribble on? Never.” Obi-Wan teased as he opened his own elegant envelope, which was naturally enclosed with a green Kenobi family crest sealed at the back.

“My dad would have loved to see our tryouts! Show the parents what the kids are really doing out there!” Cody grumbled as he read his own letter, which was written in much choppier and hurried script, “Now, all he’s going to want to talk about are my grades.”

She wasn’t even sure how he read his letter with how much his burgundy old owl, Fox, crumbled the page.

“You’re not worried he’ll deem Hogwarts unsafe?” Satine asked, “Even I discussed with Qui-Gon a contingency plan where he assures my mother of my safety here. He’s quite convincing in that manner.”

“Hell no!” Cody barked, “When I told my dad about the Zillo Beast, his first question was asking if I fought it myself. I suppose my older brothers have already given him enough heart attacks at this point for him to be too bothered.”

“Your dad would light this place ablaze if anything happened to you and you know it.” She said firmly, “He just knows you’re capable of handling yourself.”

“And he’s right.” Cody said, “I’d just rather show him that on the Quidditch pitch and not in a one-on-one conference with Windu.”

“I think they’re worried the muggle parents might see their children getting knocked several meters to the ground without any safety net.” Satine said, “Need I remind you that your sport has literally seen people dead?”

“Not in like… Three years.” He counted on his fingers, “And even more so at Hogwarts!” 

“Ah yes, so comforting.” She rolled her eyes and turned to Obi-Wan, who’d suddenly fallen incredibly silent throughout this line of conversation, “I’m sure you don’t mind Quidditch being pushed off a bit, do you?”

He didn’t answer, though. Instead, he stared intently at the neatly unfolded piece of parchment in his hands, reading over and over the printed words as though he was having a difficult time understanding. This, of course, was incredibly unlikely since Obi-Wan was easily the fastest reader at Hogwarts. He even gave Qui-Gon a run for his galleons. 

“What’s their excuse this time?” Cody asked, though not without a careful edge to his voice, “Is the Wizengamot physically holding them captive? Or did a hoity toity banquet just spring up from nowhere? Perhaps they’re planning on falling ill that day?”

They’d grown used to a whole array of ridiculous and equally dismissive excuses for the Kenobi’s lack of involvement. Usually, Obi-Wan never seemed to mind much and would even play along to any jokes on the matter. However, he still sat completely unmoving, eyes unblinking and staring so hard at the paper that Satine felt he might burn a hole straight through the center.

She and Cody exchanged a worried look and she slid close enough to Obi-Wan on the bench to glance over his shoulder and read the letter for herself.

It wasn’t an extensive letter, contrary to how long it seemed to take Obi-Wan to read or fully comprehend, but Satine drew in a sharp breath.

“What is it?” Cody asked, dropping all pretenses of humor, “Is someone dead?”

“They’re… Coming.” She said slowly with every bit of disbelief that she felt ringing through her head. “They’re coming to the conferences.”

And there was little more that needed or could be said after that. All three sixth years sat and ruminated over what this could mean or why they were choosing now to show up. Obi-Wan’s father had been the prosecuting attorney on the Zillo Beast case, declaring the beast to be killed, but while he had delivered a scathing speech on the safety of the students being at risk, hadn’t said much on the matter since it disappeared.

In fact, as far as she knew, the search parties for the beast had stopped. It created a sickly feeling in the back of her mind, like either they’d done something to it in secret or the reason for its being left alive was to serve a different purpose. Either way, 97 meter-long creatures don’t just disappear easily and surely the muggles would have reported something by now had they taken notice of it. 

Her worry for the beast did not compare to her concern for Obi-Wan, who always acted differently around his parents- like he was trapped in a crafted disillusionment. It wasn’t his fault, of course. They were his parents; while Satine always tried to hold her tongue on her growing distaste for his family, sometimes they made it very difficult. 

“Ben?” She dared speech after a long moment of silence between the three of them. 

He had placed the parchment down, but his mind was going at a rapid speed, and if she had to guess: was calculating every second of the next week.

“If you’ll excuse me,” He said in an even tone, “I’ve much to prepare.” 

He swung one leg followed by the other over the bench, collected his belongings, and swiftly moved down the center aisle and towards the door before Satine or Cody could say anything else on the matter.

Cody sighed as he leaned on his forearms, “Good luck with that.”

She frowned, “And why is this solely my responsibility?”

He nodded towards the crest on her robe, “You see him a whole lot more than I do, mate. We both know that he’s going to be avoiding meals.”

That thought soured her spirits even more and she sighed deeply, causing the side bangs that framed her face to billow briefly in the air, “I suppose I’ll be taking his meals to-go for the week, won’t I?”

***

“AWE MAN!” Anakin exclaimed loud enough to echo through the emptying Great Hall. He slammed the fist that was not holding parchment onto the table. 

Artoo, who had been among the last of the owls to return with a letter, fluttered in surprise and concern at the outburst, to whom Anakin immediately placated with a gentle pat on his head.

“Sorry, Artoo,” He grumbled sullenly, “It’s not your fault.”

“What’s wrong?” Rex asked. He’d already begun to gather his things to start moving out of the Great Hall and on towards their Charms class, which already wasn’t the best start to Anakin’s day. 

Anakin sighed and moved to follow him, watching Artoo fly off with the other owls towards the owlery to harass the ever-sensitive Threepio, “My mum can’t make it to the conferences.”

“And that’s bad news?” Rex looked at him quizzically, “Me and my brothers are afraid of what the professors are going to say to our dad. Not having him come would cure all of our headaches.”

“The term just started!” Anakin protested, “Even I haven’t fallen behind on homework yet.”

“Sure, but you really think Windu is keen on keeping his trap shut about the antics from the previous year?”

“Maybe,” Anakin shrugged, “I think he still feels sorta bad for making me think he was going to kill me.”

Rex considered that and nodded, “I’m just saying, I love my dad dearly and wouldn’t trade him for all the galleons in the world, but mixing parents and professors just seems like a disaster waiting to happen.”

“I can’t believe they’ve never done conferences before.” Anakin said, “What if a parent is worried their kid is failing?”

“They have them off-site sometimes if pre-arranged by the parent.” Rex explained, “Or if a child is being particularly rambunctious. Fives told me Sebulba’s parents have met with the Headmaster.”

“A lot of good that did.” He muttered.

They moved past the slippery Dug, who was currently taking to firing enchanted spit balls at passing students with Ody and Groff. A few girls vocally complained while some boys retaliated with crumpled paper balls. If he were in better spirits, Anakin might have involved himself, but was far too sullen over his mum being unable to come.

As they took their seats in Charms, Rex turned to him, “So, why can’t she come?”

“Work.” Anakin twisted his face into one of disgust, “For the foulest person on the planet.”

“I thought that was Dooku.”

“Dooku is the worst person on the planet,” Anakin explained, “But Watto is all-in-all just vile and disgusting. Inside and out.”

“And your mum works for him?”

“She says she does it to put food on the table, but she’s the best waitress around. I’m not sure why she needs to stoop so low.”

Rex sighed, “Well, I’m sorry she can’t come, mate. Maybe a different beast will attack the school this year and they’ll hold these sorts of meetings again.”

“I hope so.” Anakin said and then gave him a wry smile, “And if that happens, you know who to call.”

“Headmaster Yoda.”

He thumped him, “Me, you ninny!”

Rex rolled his eyes, “No offense, mate, but I’ll hold off on turning to you until you at least grow tall enough to look our enemies in the eyes.”

“Then why are you calling Yoda?” Anakin asked.

“Big personality, I guess.”

***

“Tell me whose brilliant idea it was to schedule the first Apparition class the night before Parent Day.” Cody yawned as all of the sixth years piled into the courtyard. The air was still muggy, even without the added presence of the sun, and crickets could be heard whistling in the grass surrounding them. 

“And at midnight,” Satine matched his yawn with one of her own and he wasn’t shocked to see she was cross. It was no secret that his friend didn’t do well with being awoken beyond her own readiness. Even that was pushing it, “I thought we were through with this malarky first year with Astronomy.” 

“It’s the only time we were guaranteed a free slot in our schedules.” Kenobi, easily the freshest looking and the only one dressed in uniform, supplied. It was quite likely that he wasn’t able to sleep anyway with the impending conferences in the morning. 

“Don’t they understand the concept of beauty rest?” Ventress scowled as she trudged not far behind them- hair askew, makeup smeared, and bags under her eyes making her sockets look hollow.

“You’ll need more than sleep.” Cody grimaced, which earned him a sharp glare.

“Do try to avoid poking the beast.” Kenobi jested dryly, “Particularly at feeding hour.”

“If either of you were to accidentally apparate into an active volcano, that might just make my year.” The pale witch spat and then scoffed as Professor Windu moved through where she and Cody stood briskly taking the center of the courtyard. “And you can bring him with you.”

“He doesn’t look any more pleased about it than you do,” Satine said, but then frowned as she took another look at Ventress, “Well, maybe not.”

“What good is it that you even take this course?” Ventress twisted up her face in disgust at Satine, “Hadn’t you muggles fancied yourselves too good for convenience in your plaything means of transportation?”

“Are you referring to planes, trains, and automobiles?” Satine rolled her eyes, “Operating those require a great deal more skill, I promise you that.”

“Oh, I’m sure, Duchess. Why not go learn to operate those instead?” She grumbled with crossed arms, “And spare us of your pointless lectures and comparisons.”

“I’m going to consider myself grateful that we haven’t shared classes in a while,” Satine sighed, too tired to take the bait, though Cody did notice she sidestepped that line of conversation. Unlike Ventress, the prospect of learning to pilot a vehicle was incredibly interesting to him. If Kenobi weren’t intent on brooding at the horizon, it would have interested him too.

“Alright, class, I know it’s late, but this is the only time we had for our first lesson.” Professor Windu explained.

“Does this mean not all of these classes will occur at such a late hour?” Lyra Prime asked from the corner opposite to them. Upon looking around, Cody noticed that no one was particularly enthusiastic about being out so late. He knew a couple of second year Gryffindors that would jump at the prospect, but he guessed this is what growing up looked like: pure exhaustion.

“Not all of them will,” Professor Windu said, “Nor will they occur as regularly as your normal classes. I do not want to detract from your studies with this course.”

“Just from our sanity,” Cody murmured to Satine, who nudged him in retaliation. 

“Tonight, we won’t be doing anything crazy. I know we’ve all got a busy day tomorrow, but one thing you’ll learn quickly outside these walls is that life doesn’t wait for anyone. Ever.” Windu, even if tired, had the uncanny ability to sound like he was delivering the final remark on a rollercoaster of a court drama. 

Cody wasn’t that disappointed about being here, really. Once his eyes blinked awake a bit more and he got used to it, he would likely be happy. He’d been excited to apparate since he first came to Hogwarts, after all. Most of the attendees were, save for possibly Ventress, who wouldn’t be excited for anything that didn’t involve dismemberment. Or at least, that’s the conclusion he’d drawn.

Of course, Windu sure had a way of sucking the excitement from the air.

“Where are we going tonight, Professor?” Eeth Koth asked.

“There will be no apparition tonight, Mr. Koth. These first few sessions will be about determining if you can handle the responsibility of apparition. Then and only then, once you showcase your knowledge and respect for the law and the intricacies of it, we’ll practice.”

“This class might as well have been run by you.” Cody said to Kenobi this time, “This is going to be boring as all hell.”

Kenobi only shrugged, likely not bothered or surprised like many of the students were. Cody was just irritated that this was going to be yet another thing he had to study for this year. His dad was definitely going to have questions about that.

“Everyone pair up!” He was unsurprised to turn and find Satine had already claimed the somber Kenobi for herself. 

He frowned as he looked at Zeb. “Why are you taking this now? You took it last year.”

“Doesn’t mean I passed,” The purple Lasat said gruffly, “Wanna partner up?”

Cody sighed. Sometimes, being in a group of three did have its disadvantages.

***

Obi-Wan probably would have signed up for the setup taskforce for “Parent Day” without the obvious obligation of his own parents’ imminent attendance. Such a team took care to assist the professors in making the school not only sparkle for its guests, but appear as safe and functioning as possible.

Well, as possible for a magical school. He noted that they kept the moving staircases as well as allowed the ghosts to wander about. However, he wasn’t sure there was much that could be done about them anyway. Most of the parents would have presumably gone to Hogwarts as children and knew what to expect. He supposed they just needed to see that the attack of the beast hadn’t left any glaring scars. 

He wouldn’t be mentioning to any of them that he still sometimes subconsciously felt the way the astronomy tower shook that fateful day the Zillo Beast escaped.

He really wouldn’t be mentioning that day it escaped to his parents.

“I’m sure you know by now that breakfast doesn’t begin for another hour.” Qui-Gon said the morning of the event. 

“Would you believe me if I said I had first patrol?”

“No.” Qui-Gon said with the barest hints of a smile. 

Obi-Wan had risen before anyone else in his house to get a headstart on the day- performing any last minute touch-ups on his section of the boys’ dormitory in the event that his parents wanted to see how Obi-Wan’s been managing. He was grateful that he’d learned long ago how to contort his more frivolous belongings so they were unnoticeable in his trunk. Still, just to be safe, he moved them over to Cody’s dorm so as to make the optimum impression.

Besides, Obi-Wan hadn’t slept too well all week and was of much better use preparing. He thought about what they would talk about and tried to prepare for every possible situation. They were brief and concise people just as they were busy. He had his doubts that they would stay the entire day, which truthfully, he was betting on. 

He gestured to the towel that was in his hand, “I just figured I would get the jumpstart on taking a bath to prepare for the day.”

“And why do I gather the suspicion that you won’t be at breakfast at all?” Qui-Gon asked with crossed arms.

“Because I’ll eat later.” Obi-Wan waved him off, “You’re up early too.”

“You know I don’t sleep.” He was teasing, but there was definitely some truth to that statement. For an optimistic moment, Obi-Wan considered if this was where he adopted this bad habit. To be fair, Obi-Wan had been eating at least semi-regularly through his focus. Somehow, plates of food just ended up near him that came from seemingly nowhere. Of course, Obi-Wan had his theories, but not much time to ponder them. 

“Like everyone else, I’m simply trying to put my best foot forward and impress my parents today.” Obi-Wan answered the unasked question in Qui-Gon’s eyes, though it felt a bit like he was guessing at it, since without a trace of natural sunlight, it was difficult to tell in merely candlelight. “And what of you? Are you afraid for the fate of the school?”

Qui-Gon frowned, “No, because I imagine most halfblooded and pureblooded families would still allow their children to attend.”

“That result would play straight into the Sith ideology.” Obi-Wan sighed and felt a new form of panic settle over him at the thought of Satine’s mum not allowing her to continue going to school at Hogwarts. He loved school, but he would love it a great deal less without her.

“Well, welcoming muggles through our doors certainly isn’t.” Qui-Gon said with a firm nod and placed a hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder, “Keep your chin up, Obi-Wan. The only thing your parents should discredit you for is perhaps your sleep schedule.”

Obi-Wan shifted, “They don’t discredit me. They are just quite particular in their vision for my future. They just want what’s best for me.”

“As parents should,” Though it seemed like Qui-Gon was walking on eggshells and it was not for the first time in this line of conversation, “Just be sure that you are also being mindful about what’s best for you.”

Obi-Wan didn’t quite understand that. He was always trying to secure himself a successful future. He wouldn’t describe himself as solely self-serving, but he did think a lot about his life going forward and how he would try to make his parents proud. Their pride always felt good and allowed him to know he was doing something right. 

“I will, sir.” He said with a nod, and backed away to head towards the prefect bathroom as initially intended, “I might bring them by your office later.”

“I would like to finally meet the parents behind one of my favorite students.”

“One of?” Obi-Wan teased, “Satine isn’t around, professor.”

“At this time of morning? I know.” He snorted.

***

At exactly twelve noon on the dot, the harmonious bells gonged from their respective tower, alerting both students and faculty that Parent Day was to begin. Because there was no excuse to be tardy with the help of magic, the parents appeared from seemingly nowhere just as the doors to Hogwarts swung open.

Prefects, expectedly, still had their duties even with the sudden influx of adult supervision. Unlike most afternoons, students were required to sit with their houses in the Great Hall so as to make the process of parents finding their children easier. Prefects, meanwhile, stood aside and took on the task of guiding the befuddled muggles where they needed to go. 

Satine took her tasks quite seriously and was sure to pass a sharp glare to shut up any smarmy student that tried to make fun of the awe that filled the muggle parents’ eyes. It was preposterous, really, because every student- regardless of lineage- was awestruck at one point or another when they entered the Great Hall for the first time.

In fact, even the wizarding parents had that warm glow in their gaze as you might when walking down memory lane. Hogwarts had once been their home and for a brief moment, Satine wondered if they saw themselves in the students that sat at their respective tables- or if they noticed all that had changed. 

She wondered how she would feel when she returned after graduation should she have any children of her own.

They certainly wouldn’t be little bastards like Sebulba, who fancied himself something special now that he was a fourth year.

“Sebulba, if you don’t get that tongue away from Tiplar, I will be confiscating it.” She scolded.

“Is that a threat or a promise, Kryze? I’m not usually one for blondes, but Sebulba likes what he sees.” He waggled what she assumed would be eyebrows, but they couldn’t be seen beneath the goggles he wore over his eyes. 

“I’d say such disrespect warrants 5 points from Slytherin.” Fenn Rau said airily as he appeared next to Satine. She turned in surprise to find him at all, actually, but was even more startled by the gust of wind to her right. 

“More like 10 points from Slytherin.” said Obi-Wan, who had his fists balled at his side, “And should you continue this flagrant disrespect for personal space and authority, I will have no problem extracting you from this event in front of your parents as well as explain to them why Slytherin is falling behind in the house race.”

“Funny, I’d always known you to be the gentler prefect, Kenobi.” Rau said with a smile at Satine, “Not that it wasn’t deserved, of course.”

“I take the treatment of my fellow prefects very seriously.” Obi-Wan said sternly and if Satine didn’t know better, she’d say his chest was puffed out a bit, but he never kept his eyes off Sebulba, who looked like he debated on saying something else until he caught the intensity of Obi-Wan’s glare.

Sebulba snapped his trap shut so fast it made a clicking noise that she’d never heard, but Satine’s focus was more trained on the venom that seemed to pour from every feature of her best friend. She’d never seen him behave like this before and couldn’t quite explain what it was. There was tension, of course, which she expected from him on such a day, and disgust, which Sebulba obviously warranted. There was also protectiveness, which part of her naturally batted against, because she could discipline a simple sleazebag on her own and certainly didn’t need his interference. However, a smaller and more elusive part of her welcomed it.

He stared at Sebulba until the suddenly shy Dug had the good sense to turn away and duck his head down to avoid Obi-Wan’s silent fury. Satine led them a few meters away by gently tugging him on the arm from Rau and Sebulba. 

“You know,” She kept her voice low, “I could have handled that myself.”

“I am aware of that. Perhaps, I was merely sparing Sebulba from your wrath.” He replied rather cheekily, which she was surprised as she expected him to be reticent today of all days.

“Is that all?” Still, she had to play along, “Need I remind you that I’m a pacifist?”

“Not when you remind me every day,” He quipped, “But you are also quite ruthless when you wish to be.”

“I thought you liked that about me.” She dared.

“I do.” He said immediately and then reassessed his approach, “Just because you can handle something does not mean you should have to.”

That familiar fondness tickled at her chest again and she found she couldn’t look at him for much longer without flushing completely red. He wasn’t looking directly at her either, which made for an easier task of diversion.

“I suppose chivalry isn’t completely dead then.” She said.

“Especially when prats like Sebulba are involved.” He said.

“So?” She pressed, “Just felt like blowing off some steam?”

“Something like that,” He flickered his gaze to her before casting it back to the masses that still poured through the building, likely trying to spot and see if anyone needed assistance. Despite the overwhelming sense of uneasiness that plagued the school for the week leading up to the event, children seemed overjoyed to actually see their parents so soon. Even the gruffer students, like Zeb Orrelios, who played tough during the day, ran into their mother’s arms and allowed themselves to be enveloped without question. 

She noticed Obi-Wan’s gaze was fixed on a rather touching display between a young Hufflepuff first year and his parents and how elated they seemed to all be together in that moment.

When he felt her stare, he snapped his eyes forward towards the door and nodded with a little smile on his face. She followed where his gaze had fallen and felt her own mouth twitch into a grin. A woman strutted in, long and lean just like her, and held herself with a confident strength that was so binding that not a single wizard likely deemed her a muggle. 

“Mum!” She moved at her own accord, letting Obi-Wan fall back as she pulled the taller woman into a tight embrace. It had only been two weeks since she’d last seen her, but she always missed her mother.

“Hello, darling.” 

“I’m so glad you’re here.” Satine said, feeling quite like a first year as she said it. 

“You were right, Satine, this place is fantastic.” Her mum said after they separated.

It always baffled Satine how her mother could maintain such ethereal beauty at all times- all the while maintaining a strength that she longed to possess. One did not raise their three children (including an actual witch) on their own for the past seven years and not be a force of nature.

“Isn’t it?” She beamed, “I’m looking forward to showing you everything!”

“Let’s get this over with.” A voice that was teetering on the edge of a whine said from behind them. 

She was so distracted by the joy she was experiencing from seeing her mum that she almost missed the second and shorter figure that lingered behind her. 

Satine cocked her head to the side in confusion and met the scrutinizing glare of eyes that always reminded her of green tea in color. However, while they used to be as bright as the rolling fields of the countryside in a fresh spring, there was something menacing about them now.

“Oh, you’ve brought Bo.” She tried not to sound disappointed, though internally cringed at how clear she had failed at that account. It wasn’t that she disliked her sister. In fact, the two used to be incredibly close as children. It was that Satine really did not feel like spending the entire day under intense judgment, especially when her kid sister decided she disliked nothing more than magic.

“I did.” Her mother said warily, which sounded like a warning for the both of them to get along. In Satine’s defense, she always tried. “With your brother away at university, there was no one around to stay home with her.”

“I’m not some dumb dog that needs to be watched,” The fiery-haired tween grunted with arms crossed over her chest, “I’m going to be 13 next month! I’m practically an adult.”

“I’ve not forgotten.” Satine said carefully, “Though I still can’t believe how much you’ve grown.”

“An easy thing to miss when you’re busy spending all of your days playing voodoo in this cold castle.” Bo complained and looked all around her, easily the only person to ever walk through Hogwarts for the first time and be unimpressed. “What kind of name is Hogwarts anyway?”

“Behave, Bo-Katan.” As beautiful as Ruusaan Kryze was, she was also formidable.

“It literally means pig pimples.” It was a shame Bo was as unrepentant as ever. 

They hadn’t seen much of each other over the summer, save for the final two weeks when Bo returned from summer camp. However, she had been determined to spend as little time with Satine as possible, making it clear where she stood on her feelings. 

“Always a pleasure.” Satine muttered and turned, surprised to see Obi-Wan had approached them again and was suddenly relieved for the distraction from the rising tension that Bo-Katan brought with her wherever she went. However, she was amused to see that Obi-Wan seemed a bit antsy for some unforeseen reason. 

She placed a hand on his arm and smiled, “You remember my friend and fellow prefect, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Mum.”

Something sparkled in her mother’s eyes as she clasped Obi-Wan’s outstretched hand, “It’s good to see you again, Ben.”

He smiled sheepishly and nodded, “And you, Ms. Kryze. I hope you’ll find Hogwarts fit to your daughter’s exceptional talent.”

Her mother laughed, “Oh, I’m sure I will. Satine speaks very highly of Hogwarts, adventures and all.”

“And of you.” Bo commented and looked Obi-Wan up and down as though she was ready to go in for the kill. Satine would not put her above doing so. “Though I don’t see what’s so great about you that warrants droning on and on in her diary-”

“-Anyway!” Satine gritted and fixed Bo-Katan with her most lethal stare, “Let’s proceed with a tour.”

“Er, yes.” Obi-Wan said, clearly befuddled by the change of pace and hopefully not by the way Satine looked like she swallowed a jalapeno every flavor bean. However, he recovered and smiled genially at Satine’s mother, “I will see you all later for dinner.”

“Ah, you’re not coming along? Satine says you know this castle inside-out. So much so that you made a map!”

“Right down to the murderous slaughter chambers, no doubt.” Bo muttered, but was silenced by a warning look in her mother’s eyes. 

Satine and Obi-Wan exchanged an uncomfortable stare, before laughing awkwardly as if what Bo-Katan insinuated was so ridiculous. To be fair, the year prior, it would have been, but with Dooku recently outing himself as a Sith lord as well as an actual Sith temple that lay decimated below, it wasn’t completely out of the question. Who knew what lay within the walls of Hogwarts that they hadn’t yet uncovered?

“I may have made the map, but I’m sure she’s also mentioned some of my questionable artistic choices.” He smiled at Satine, who shrugged. 

“It needed to be made known.”

He sighed, “And anyway, as much as I would love to attend, I must stay on guard for my own fam-”

“-There you are, Obi-Wan.” Mrs. Kenobi briskly stepped through Bo-Katan and Satine’s mother as though they were merely French doors that meant to be parted at her will. As always, she was dressed like she was attending the funeral of a very high-ranking politician. Her mood did not look much cheerier in comparison. 

“Yes, we made the mistake of checking Slytherin’s table first.” His father, who matched his wife in demeanor and in maudlin fashion choices, trailed behind with the airs of constant disappointment clinging to him. Of what, Satine could and would never understand so long as she lived.

“We had assumed you would be with Ventress, but it seems she’s already off with her parents.”

“An easy mistake to make,” Obi-Wan cleared his throat and Satine could once again see that tightness return. Had they been in a different setting, she would have reminded him to take a breath.

“More like wishful thinking.” His mother said dryly before finally seeming to notice that Satine and her family were even present. “After all, you always manage to surprise us with the company you choose to keep.”

“In all fairness, times are changing.” Mr. Kenobi drawled and Satine noticed he clutched his serpent-headed walking stick a little tighter. “I think it’s wonderful that Obi-Wan has diversified his entourage lest he not be branded as bigoted in these… Judgemental times.”

“Funny, that’s not the word I would use for it.” Satine said.

“Entourage?” Bo-Katan asked at the same time. 

“Indeed, we also take care to have a muggle or two in our artillery.” Mrs. Kenobi nodded as though neither Kryze girl had ever spoken, like this was a box that needed to be checked, “Of course, we befriend muggles of royalty or status-”

“-But muggles no less.” Mr. Kenobi sniffed and looked at Satine’s mother, “Seeing as Hogwarts has all but tossed the concept of privatization and prestige into the rubbish, I cannot place blame with Obi-Wan for having limits in who he chooses.”

“It seems to me that this dusty school needed a bit of change,” Satine’s mother raged.

“Mum-” Satine tried to cut in, but there was no use in stopping a Kryze woman when she was already lost to the throes of her own determination.

“-Because my daughter is anything but a token to be claimed like some sort of tax deductible. If you wizards even have taxes, that is,” She said, “I might not know everything about your culture, but make no mistake-”

“-But you, yourself, already have one on your hands, you see,” Mr. Kenobi said plainly, “Magical children born of the muggle world are just that by definition, alone.”

Mistakes.

“Father!” Obi-Wan cried out. 

“That’s not to say they don’t have their strengths.” Mrs. Kenobi added calmly, “I’m sure Saline-”

“-Satine.” Obi-Wan corrected with gritted teeth.

“Is very gifted for her type.” She said in what Satine could only assume was meant to be genial, “But what my husband says is true. You never meant to have a witch for a daughter, correct?”

“You cannot plan for something you do not know of.” Satine’s mother said, “But I’ll have you know, Mrs. Kenobi, that my daughter- the alleged mistake that you claim was never meant to exist, not only is gifted for her type, but is the top of her class. Neck and neck only with your son in terms of merit, isn’t that right, Satine?”

“It is.” Satine was suddenly wishing she wasn’t here right now, because as satisfying as it should have been to see her mother drive the Kenobi’s into the dirt (metaphorically speaking), the necessity for this conversation made her mouth feel dry.

This made the Kenobi’s flounder if only a little bit in shock, and looked to Obi-Wan for confirmation with a mixture of outrage and the clear attempt to cover their shock. Obi-Wan, of course, nodded in agreement with Satine’s mother. 

“Well, times certainly are changing.” Mr. Kenobi repeated in a dry tone. “Congratulations, my dear.”

It sounded as hollow as it felt.

“Yes, certainly… A victory for your people.” Mrs. Kenobi’s smile was so tight that Satine truly believed it would tear her face in two, “But we did not come to scrutinize over political differences.”

Satine clenched her teeth. “Political differences” seemed like a rich way of saying that the Kenobi’s believed Satine didn’t have a right to exist while Satine’s politics included just wanting to exist in peace.

“Oh really?” Satine’s mother asked, likely thinking the same thing. 

“We’re here to see Obi-Wan’s chosen mentee.” Mr. Kenobi nodded beyond all of them and towards Gryffindor’s table, where Anakin Skywalker sat alone.

Satine doubted the word chosen was accidental. 

***

Cody had all of his brothers lined up from oldest to youngest, just as his father preferred for the sake of remembering names. He took care to ensure that each was showered, dressed, and fed so that there was no messing around. Jango Fett, while a carbon-copy of each of the boys (but older), had a much less relaxed and more serious demeanor. The only one who fared like him in terms of personality was Boba, who Cody was shocked to see in attendance alongside his father, Hevy, and their eldest brother- who they called Ninety-Nine.

He supposed this made sense. There were four of them presently still in school and only one of Jango to attend all teacher conferences. It was enough to make Cody’s head spin. He just wondered who he was going to get. 

Worst case: Boba, best case: Hevy.  

Boba stood taller than their father- the only one to accomplish such a feat- with dark wavy hair that framed his sharp face and hung above his shoulders. He was easily the most muscular of their group, which was saying something, and always wore his military uniform whenever he could muster. He was the person that most professors turned their heads at, seeing as everyone believed Boba would involve himself in less legitimate dealings as an adult.

He noticed Hondo’s jaw drop in awe at the sight of Boba, which was proof enough of his reputation for smuggling. 

Hevy was the broadest and who Cody reckoned he looked the most similar to; though Hevy always sported a five o’clock shadow that Jango couldn’t stand. Cody wasn’t much for facial hair, even if he teased Kenobi about being able to grow a full beard while his friend could not.

And Ninety-Nine, their eldest and most revered brother, stood shortest- in part to the hump that caused him to slouch and require a cane- however, this did not stop him from walking the proudest towards his little brothers. Ninety-Nine was the best of them, in Cody’s humble opinion, with enough kindness to cover cities and a loyalty that would have made any Hufflepuff proud. He was wise as a Ravenclaw should be, braver than himself and all his other Gryffindors, and ambitious as the best of Slytherin house was. 

There was just one thing: Ninety-Nine did not have magical abilities. 

“Brothers!” Ninety-Nine was the first to greet them, a lopsided smile coloring his face, which could only move on the right side. He pulled Rex into a gentle hug first, “I’m so proud of all of you. The best of Gryffindor house!”

“Wait til you talk to their professors before you say that, mate.” Hevy grinned devilishly, tugging both of the twins into a headlock that made Boba roll his eyes disapprovingly.

“Uncle! Uncle!” Fives begged while laughing.

“Yeah, let us out of these meat sticks you call arms, Hevy.” Echo added, “There’s a reason that’s your nickname and isn’t because you’re teeny weeny.”

 “Boys.” Jango said sternly and each of them fell into line, including Ninety-Nine at the end. After pacing back and forth, inspecting each of them for missing or forgetting anything, he nodded, “At ease.”

They all dropped into more casual positions and Cody smiled at him, “Oi, Dad, I didn’t know you’d be bringing the whole team.”

Jango cracked a smile, “And let three of you get off easy? I think not.”

“Not when you lot are releasing beasts and tracking down Sith lords.” Hevy said.

Ninety-Nine nodded eagerly, “I heard you were at the heart of all that, Rexy.”

Rex grinned, likely happy to have some attention, which Ninety-Nine always had ample amounts of, “My best friend, Anakin and I, were.” 

“That’s me.” Anakin’s blond little head had popped somewhere in the midst of their huddle without anyone noticing. To be fair, the kid was small and their group was big. It was easy to forget who was and wasn’t a Fett sometimes. “I’m Anakin Skywalker.”

Jango and Ninety-Nine took care to shake his small hand while Boba nodded at him appraisingly. 

“I’ve read the news about you.” Ninety-Nine said, “Boy is all over the Daily Prophet! Never imagined my little brother would be tied in with the chosen one.”

“That he is.” Cody said, “These two get into more trouble than even the twins.”

“Hey!” Echo protested.

“Yeah, I resent that.” Fives added, “We had an off year. We hope to reclaim the throne again soon.”

“You can have it.” Rex sighed, “Last year was exhausting.”

“Alright, alright, enough of the chatter. We’re here for a reason and that’s to talk with all of your professors.” Boba said, “We’ve got to make sure your heads are not up in the clouds.”

“Cody.” Hevy crooned and the twins laughed.

Cody glared at him, “My head is right where it needs to be.”

“And it’s bigger than ever.” Rex teased with a smile.

“Careful, I’m the deciding factor that puts you on the Quidditch team or not.” Cody warned. 

Rex had the good sense to slink back at that. Yeah, Cody wasn’t being entirely serious, because he knew Rex could play better than any of the new prospective kids that would be trying out, but he needed to humble the kid out every now and then. 

“Don’t listen to him, Rex.” Ninety-Nine smiled softly, “He would love to have you play.”

***

It wasn’t enough that Anakin’s mother wasn’t able to make it for Parent’s Day, but having to witness the intensely jovial reunion between all of the Fett’s was a lot to take in. He supposed it was for the best that his mother not confer with Windu about Anakin’s dealings of the previous year, but he still yearned for that sense of family atmosphere that everyone else got to have.

Then again, he would have time to reacquaint himself with the castle, perhaps seek out the coat of arms that would be guarding each tunnel. He figured Palpatine would allow him to hang out in his classroom if need be. 

Just as he was about to get up and remove himself from the fuzzy feelings that swirled around him, he was faced with the intimidating presence of the Kenobi’s, who strangely enough, looked at him with welcoming smiles.

“And you must be the wonderful boy our son has told us so much about.” Obi-Wan’s mum said brightly. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

He’d technically met them before, but perhaps, he’d caught them on a bad day. Everyone had those. He wasn’t too nice if he found himself eating a bad burrito or chili cheese dog. Who would be, anyway?

“Officially, that is.” His father corrected with mirth in his eyes, “I do apologize for any rudeness from our previous encounter. I have no excuse for our curt interaction, but I assure you, we meant no malice towards you.”

Anakin’s eyes flickered to Obi-Wan’s, who was standing off to the side and looking very out of place in this circumstance. In fact, he kept studying his parents as if they’d gone mad. Still, Anakin didn’t want to be impolite and reached out to shake their outstretched hand. 

“I’m Anakin. I was Obi-Wan’s mentee last year.”

“You sure were.” Mrs. Kenobi’s smile widened and it looked new on her face, but Anakin was happy to have put it there. She was a great deal less scary when she smiled and while his father did remind him of Dooku in appearance, seemed significantly friendlier as well. “I see what our son saw in you.”

“Yes, we’ve certainly heard of all your various talents.” He said.

“You did?” Anakin smiled hesitantly, “Did he tell you about Dooku?”

“Oh, you know Obi-Wan. He’s so stoic and shy.” His mother said, “We had to do a little digging of our own, but my my Anakin, you are something of a prodigy.”

He’d never heard that term to describe him before, but it made him light up with excitement. These upstanding, high-end, practically royal wizards noticed him. And not only that, saw his merit. Plus, this meant there were newspaper articles about Anakin floating around. 

“I am quite proficient in charms.” He admitted, though he didn’t want to sound too full of himself. 

“You would make a damn good auror one day,” Mr. Kenobi said excitedly, “Especially for conquering such odds last year,” He sat down beside Anakin at Gryffindor’s table, which made Obi-Wan’s eyes widen even more. It made him look a bit like a cartoon character in the moment. 

“I would love to meet your mother. She’s a wizard, no?” Mrs. Kenobi said, “To tell her what a magnificent and brave little boy she has on her hands.”

“Er, I hate to interrupt, but my head of house really was eager to meet you two-” Obi-Wan began, but was cut off by Anakin.

“-My mom isn’t here.” Anakin said glumly.

Mrs. Kenobi quite literally clutched her pearls in surprise, “Heavens! That’s awful. Is she alright?”

“She’s okay.” He said quietly, “Just working.”

“Working?” Mr. Kenobi said it like it was a foreign word, but then again, Anakin knew they were rich. Perhaps, there was very little work to be done even if you owned your own law firm. 

“She works at a small pub beneath our flat.” He said, “Anything to pay the bills, I suppose.”

“So, who’s going to attend your conferences in her place?” She asked.

Truthfully, Anakin hadn’t really thought of that bit. He’d been so wrapped up in the fact that his mum wouldn’t be present that he hadn’t considered that his professors might not love the lack of interaction on Anakin’s behalf. Headmaster Yoda had seemed quite passionate about it.

“No one, I guess.” He shrugged.

“Oh dear,” Mrs. Kenobi placed a hand on her husband’s shoulder, “That is simply not acceptable.”

“Indeed,” He said, “We will go in her place.”

“But what about-” Obi-Wan started.

“-Not everything is about you, Obi-Wan.” His mother placed two hands on Anakin’s shoulders, “This poor boy is new to this world and is likely very frightened of all the changes happening around him. You are top of your class and do not require the same level of concern. Do you not have prefect duties?”

Obi-Wan frowned, “I mean, I could patrol but I do take NEWTS next year and-”

“-It’s settled then.” Mr. Kenobi grinned at Anakin, “We will oversee your meetings to ensure you are receiving the proper levels of attention.” 

“Oh, thank you.” Anakin said, shocked, “I couldn’t ask you to-”

“-Nonsense.” He said, “Don’t mind Obi-Wan. He will be just fine. Right, my boy?”

Obi-Wan nodded curtly, “Right.”

“We are so proud of you for aligning yourself for this boy in need, my dear.” His mother said to her son, “You’ve done well.”

Strangely, Obi-Wan didn’t look like he had.

***

“Well, there goes the neighborhood,” Madame Ventress hissed to her daughter as both sauntered past Professor Qui-Gon Jinn’s office. It appeared he was currently in the midst of a meeting with that wannabe heiress Amidala’s family. Seeing as both Qui-Gon and Padmé were of pureblood descent, she knew her mother wasn’t referring to them, but the myriad of muggle families that were galivanting around the school like they owned the place.

Like this was some play place for them to mingle and take pictures as tourists. It was sickening to someone like Madame Ventress, whose family line extended through the earliest days of Hogwarts and cared a great deal for preserving its integrity.

Asajj Ventress, on the other hand, cared not for the trivial aspects of tradition. Infused in tradition was hypocrisy and she was learning more and more that the two could not be stripped from each other. 

“I think we can agree it’s been on a downhill slope for quite some time,” She offered in her own raspy voice. “Ever since they allowed muggle-borns to come to this school.”

“Indeed,” Her mother rolled her eyes at the thought before her frown deepened as they passed Dooku’s old office. Ventress caught her mother’s eye in curiosity, intrigued to find interest rather than loathing there. Publicly, everyone called the old fart crazy. It was hard not to. To throw away an entire career of fighting off dark wizards to simply become one? In his old age? It felt a little too late.

“What is it?” She asked her mother when they stopped walking. She was staring at nothing more than a closed door, after all. Sooner or later a professor or fellow prefect will find them here and have suspicion, even if it wasn’t necessary. 

After a long moment, she answered, “Regardless of his improper methods, perhaps he was not as crazy as the papers made him to be.”

“Is that so?”

“Times are ever changing, my dear,” She said slyly, “It is prudent that you always find a way to remain on top of them, before they occur, so as to be a visionary of them. That is our family’s way.”

It was true as it did remind her that even in her mother’s picturesque view of Hogwarts, where muggle-borns were deemed abominations and muggles were banned, that not even Ventress, herself fully belonged to that future. 

Not unless she took her mother’s advice in a direction of her own course. 

“I believe Professor Palpatine is waiting.” She said.

“Yes, of course, I do enjoy that man. That’s a proper example of a decent professor. I look forward to hearing that you have excelled to top of your class.”

Close, but Ventress wouldn’t be bringing that up right now. The iron gate of disappointment would have to clamber shut on her fingers another time, because they had meetings to attend and appearances to keep. 

Another day in the life of pretending to be someone she wasn’t. She cursed the putrid muggles that walked by her. How dare they invade her space? It wasn’t a space she even fully fit in its entirety, but it was still reminiscent of something tangible without their grimy little fingers getting in. Seeing them felt like a scathing reminder.

Perhaps, this was a good thing after all. 

***

“I can’t believe you even want to go to this school!” Bo-Katan’s loud voice echoed off the bathroom walls of the prefect bathroom. Satine had decided it was the safest place for her sister and her mother to let out any other grievances that they had. “You’re not even wanted here!”

“Not everyone is like them!” Satine huffed, though she was also reeling from the encounter with the Kenobi’s, “Ben’s not like that.”

“How would you know?” Bo countered, “You’re too busy going moon-eyed over him to notice much else about him. These wizards are bad news.”

“Now, now, Bo,” Satine’s mother placated, “There are good wizards as there are good people.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Bo rolled her eyes, “You heard them! They don’t think Satine belongs here either.”

“That’s not for them to decide and it isn’t for you to decide.” Satine gritted, “The point is I do belong here, because I believe so, and I’ve proved that by being top of my class.”

“You don’t have anything to prove.” Satine’s mother said, “You are allowed to just be.”

Satine could feel tears filling her eyes, but she shoved them down, refusing to give her sister the satisfaction of seeing her waver in her conviction. Instead, she took a deep and calming breath before saying, “To them, I do. And I always will. But in the muggle world, I’d be hiding. So, if I had to choose between hiding and proving, I will choose the latter every single time.”

Bo-Katan frowned, “Hiding? Like being a human is such a pitiful thing? Sorry we’re not all born exceptional, Satine.”

“I never said that,” She glared. “Because regardless of magic or not, I’m still human and at least I know how to act like it.”

“Alright, that’s enough.” Their mum stepped between them, “I’ll have no more of this bickering. You two used to be so close and your father would be so sad to see you no longer get along. We cannot change who we are or how we’re born, but we can change how we act. Now, I want you two to stop acting like those stuffy arseholes got to you, because they aren’t allowed to. Kryze women do not back down especially in the face of adversity. More importantly, they stick with their own. They protect their own.”

“Yes, they do.” Satine said firmly.

“Bo-Katan?” Their mother nudged her. 

Bo ducked her head to the side and didn’t give a committed answer, however, they were running late for the remainder of the meetings, and it was just going to have to do. 

***

Qui-Gon wasn’t quite shocked that Obi-Wan’s parents didn’t show for their meeting with him, but he was a bit befuddled to see them trailing Anakin Skywalker as they walked towards the hall, chatting it up quite fondly with none other than Professor Palpatine.

“Mr. and Mrs. Kenobi!” Qui-Gon forced a smile as he fought to catch up with them, even jogging to show for it. “I’m sorry to have missed you.”

Qui-Gon hated the politics that came with operating these sorts of events, but as head of house, he officially needed to be ensconced in them. Their wizarding world was ever-changing in a constant back and forth between different ideologies. Qui-Gon, of course, held his own, but knew he needed to behave a certain way to placate the less accepting lot of parents that would surely be expecting special treatment.

“And you are?” Mr. Kenobi asked slowly.

“Ah, yes, this is Ravenclaw’s new head of house, Qui-Gon Jinn.” Professor Palpatine explained warmly, “As we’ve discussed when speaking of Anakin’s brave heroics, Dooku’s unfortunate career change did leave us with an empty position. Luckily, Qui-Gon is more than up to the task of stepping in.”

“Hm, well, hopefully he doesn’t make it a continuing trend.” Mrs. Kenobi said archly, “What class do you teach, Professor Jinn?”

“Muggle studies.” He answered, but it was clear it had been the wrong one.

“Oh my... Things certainly are different from when we were in school, aren’t they, Professor?” Mr. Kenobi said, though he looked like he was a good generation older than his wife. In fact, he looked old enough to have been in Sheev’s year- whatever that was.

“That they are.” Palpatine said in good nature, “However, with the expansion of muggle students, there is a need for wizards to see how the other side lives.”

“I suppose there is validity in that,” Mrs. Kenobi debated, “Just makes me question where our donations are going.”

“I can understand those concerns, but I assure you, Hogwarts always has the best intentions for each of their students.”

As Qui-Gon’s eyes landed on Anakin, who just seemed like he was trying to keep up with this line of conversation, he couldn’t help but question that expression. Was having Anakin mixed in with all of these adults that were desperately grabbing for his attention the best for him? And did they really put their students' interests forward or the interests of the school as a whole? It was all so complicated, but now was not the time to bring up such matters.

“I only wanted to say that you have much to be proud of.” Qui-Gon said, “Your son is absolutely brilliant as he is kind and strong.”

“Yes, well, Kenobi’s settle for no less than the very best.” Mr. Kenobi said brusquely, “It is good to hear that he is meeting expectations.”

“And where is Obi-Wan?” Qui-Gon asked.

“Serving his duties as prefect.” His mother answered sternly, “No use in slacking for our account.”

“The prefects were dismissed from duty for the rest of the evening.” He said, “That’s why all professors are fulfilling these tasks instead.”

As they caught a glimpse of two of the Fett boys play-wrestling at the end of the hallway, Mr. Kenobi snorted, “Yes, and what a good job they’re doing.”

Qui-Gon bit his tongue and smiled. It seemed that was the best he was going to get from them for now, but didn’t see why Anakin needed to be with them too. Still, the boy didn’t seem bothered in the slightest, smiling brightly up at him.

“We were just talking about the Quidditch season and how Gryffindor is going to make a major comeback!”

“I would love to see you play sometime.” Mr. Kenobi said, “Seeing as you were scouted as a first year, no less.”

“So was Obi-Wan, right?” Anakin asked.

“Indeed, but Obi-Wan isn’t nearly as gifted as we’ve heard you to be.” Mrs. Kenobi said, “Though he does do what he can in a match. Shame the poor dear just doesn’t have a knack for it the way his father did.”

Anakin nodded sagely, “I’d love to show you some of my moves sometime.”

“What broom do you fly?” Mr. Kenobi asked.

“Uh, a brown one?”

Each of the adults save for Qui-Gon laughed, though he suspected Palpatine’s was inauthentic, and Anakin blinked up at them in confusion.

“Anakin uses one of the school issued brooms.” Qui-Gon explained, though he didn’t see what was so funny about not having the money to acquire something fancy. It certainly didn’t make the player.

“Oh, you’re serious.” Mrs. Kenobi said.

“And yet, Anakin is still the best beater that Gryffindor has ever seen.” Palpatine smiled, “He has even deflected shots with his eyes closed.”

“Now that I really must see.” Mr. Kenobi said.

“Great!” Anakin chirped, “Our first match is in November! We play Slytherin, of course.” 

Qui-Gon felt something twist in his stomach at the smiles exchanged by the Kenobi’s. Just what did they have in mind? And where was Shmi? Perhaps, he’d been wrong to assume that the risk on Anakin’s life would be solely that of an external force. 

Perhaps, it would be someone close and disguised as a friend.

***

Obi-Wan, for his part, was glad to see Parent Day finished. This was coming from someone who hardly had any interaction with his parents, which was likely for the best. Still, he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of disappointment that they didn’t get to talk to Qui-Gon. Surely, they would be impressed when he told them of his accomplishments. 

He’d figured out pretty quickly that the additional parents that “roamed the halls” were not parents and actually guards of some kind. Maybe, they were from the Ministry. He was unsure of their exact position, but was excited for their presence all the same. This, he was not surprised about. However, he was pleased to note that they weren’t necessary. No physical violence broke out during the entire course of the day, proving maybe that they could all get along for the right reasons. 

Emotional and verbal clashing did happen and he was ashamed to say that his parents took their fair share of cheap shots in this regard. He still cringed at what they’d said to Satine and hoped terribly that she didn’t believe he felt that way. 

They were dated views coming from pure ignorance, but his parents were powerful and capable. It was crushing to see that they didn’t always use that power for good.

And what was up with their interest in Anakin? Surely, it was because of his newly anointed glory that was already going to his head. They’d dropped Obi-Wan for him quicker than they could think of it. 

They had really told Anakin he would be a good auror. 

Did this mean they would think the same of him? He hadn’t told them of his plans yet, hoping to concoct a careful and calculative method to breaking this news. Then again, Anakin had no such responsibilities to uphold a family name. It wasn’t the same and it never would be. 

He’d done the honorable thing and attended each of his conferences alone, save for seeing Qui-Gon. He didn’t quite have it in him to explain what had happened- that his parents had all but came with the intention of being Anakin’s guardians vs. Obi-Wan’s. All of his professors were incredibly confused by Obi-Wan attending alone, claiming that it defeated the purpose, but most carried on anyway.

He had a stack of notes in the event that his parents asked for them, but doubted they would. Last he saw them, they were watching Anakin excitedly tell of how he discovered his prophecy, which to Obi-Wan, was information better kept to the chest. However, it was Anakin’s fate and the boy could do what he wanted with it.

No, he refused to feel any sort of jealousy or resentment towards him. It wasn’t Anakin’s fault that his parents were fawning all over him and it certainly wasn’t Anakin’s fault that Dooku had seen him fit for attack. 

Though, as Qui-Gon came into view and rested a fond hand on Anakin’s shoulders, proudly releasing a laugh of his own at something silly the boy must have said, Obi-Wan still felt a knot grow in his chest. It was pitiful of him, he knew, but he still couldn’t help but feel a bit left out.

He was distracted briefly by one of the secret “guards” who walked briskly by him, knocking into him a bit and stumbling, dropping their wand in the process. 

“Oh here, let me help you.” He offered. 

Obi-Wan leaned over to pick it up for them, but met bright blue eyes. These were not of the lovely variety, though, like he might say about Satine’s. These were artificial and something he’d only ever seen from a textbook.

They were enchanted.

“Are you alright?” He asked dumbly.

“Ayy-o-siss-ssah.” Was hissed back at him before he was launched across the room from a bolt of magic that exploded from her hands. He’d seen that once before from none other than Count Dooku. Although this witch did not speak of any magical words or phrases. She didn’t speak at all; just continued to hiss in a language that Obi-Wan heard from Anakin’s lips once before.

She was human, that much he could see, with rich brown skin that reflected brightly from beneath her dark cloak. 

He hit the back wall with a thunk, but wasted no time in whipping out his own wand to stop her.

Even in his stupor, he noticed a dark and ugly ink-pressed mark embedded in her wrist. His research told him exactly what it meant.

The Sith emblem.

“EXPELLIARMUS!” He yelled and fired back a volt of red energy towards his attacker, who ran at full speed towards where Qui-Gon and company sat. In more of a sense vs. pure knowing, Obi-Wan knew she was going after his mentee and would not allow it.

Luckily, whatever crack of magic he released at full force had drawn a bout of attention, and the enchanted witch went flying as well. Qui-Gon leapt to his feet and stepped in front of Anakin, guarding him of whatever danger would come to them. Obi-Wan’s parents, meanwhile, launched over to where the attacker lay unconscious on the floor.

“What is this nonsense?” His father asked.

Upon closer inspection, Obi-Wan realized the ink on her wrist looked fairly fresh in nature, like the wounds of the tattoo hadn’t yet healed in full. It was easier to tell when she wasn’t firing lightning at him. 

Everyone’s eyes flicked to Obi-Wan, whose head hurt terribly and was trying to play back the previous events back. It all seemed to happen so fast. Satine and Cody lingered on the side, clearly ready to launch themselves at him when afforded the proper chance. 

Headmaster Yoda came onto the scene with a briskness Obi-Wan had never seen from the old wizard, who usually used a cane. In this case, gone was any limp he previously had, and it was replaced by vigor and strength.

“Okay, are you, young Obi-Wan?” He asked with kind green eyes that Obi-Wan was at level with from where he sat.

“I’m alright,” He said, “But I don’t believe she was acting on her own accord. Her eyes glowed as though she was enchanted.”

“Please leave this to the proper authorities.” His mother said. “You could have been killed!”

“Brave, he acted.” Yoda defended. “Dangerous, this was. Close Dooku must be.”

“How did that happen? Did you not account for this? Surely you knew there were risks to opening the school all willy nilly.” Mr. Kenobi asked harshly, “Number one being that these children are not safe here. What kind of operation are you running, Yoda? Do you not know that you have a hero in your midst?”

“Investigate this matter closely, we must.” Yoda said.

“Closely? Like hell I’m leaving this to you alone. You’ll be hearing from the Ministry of Magic directly. You won’t be able to move or breathe without someone knowing exactly what you’re up to, Yoda. I swear to you. You will not continue to put these children in harm’s way.”

And he turned on his heels and marched out of the room, letting the limp body of the attacker drop like a sack of potatoes. For a moment, all that could be heard was the distant clicking of his shoes. 

“So much for a quiet year.” Anakin sighed. “I thought I’d at least make it through one month without something weird happening.”

***

Because the secret tunnels allowed students to traverse all over the castle to places they never could before (within reason and with supervision), it was hardly fair that Ravenclaw’s common room was the only one without a secret door. Evidently, it had to do with how the tower, itself, was built.

Still, because of this imbalance, so long as quiet hours were not in swing, students were allowed to bring one friend from a different house within the common room. This was incredibly convenient, because it allowed Obi-Wan and Satine to bring Cody in as their plus 1 while the star Quidditch player helped the limping Obi-Wan back to their dorm.

After the surprise attack and the Kenobi’s threats against Yoda, everyone had essentially dismissed themselves without much show. Qui-Gon, who feared there were other secret op’s hiding within the castle, teamed up with the other heads of house to scope the grounds. First, he escorted Anakin back to his room, of course. The boy’s safety was to be their top priority. 

Satine had bid her mother and sister adieu and promised that no, this sort of thing did not happen every day. Wizards were either incredibly passive or over dramatic when it came to near-death experiences. She, of course, was quite shaken by the whole ordeal.

She hadn’t even seen it happen. Cody was the one to draw her attention. He and his brothers had been stuffing their faces with cauldron cakes- Hevy making a comment about how he missed the food most of all at Hogwarts, when the flash alerted everyone. Satine had been busy explaining how the ceiling’s weather changed to her mother and unimpressed sister when Cody practically dragged her to the Great Hall doors.

Naturally, Obi-Wan insisted he was okay. Madame Nema wasn’t called onto the scene, but everyone seemed much more concerned about an enchanted secret agent, who actually was employed by the Ministry and had no recollection of the previous events, than they were about Obi-Wan. 

“What’d they even look like?” Cody asked curiously, after Obi-Wan sat back onto the couch with a weary sigh that marked being a little less than okay. Cody took his position on the floor, which Satine guessed was common for him in his own dormitory. Despite it being nice to see her mother, she was relieved they were back in the comforts of their room, where no one could infiltrate their privacy. 

“What did what look like?” He returned. 

“The eyes.” Cody shivered, “Boba’s told stories of enchanted witches. That’s some dark magic right there.”

“They were like the prophecy orbs from the Ministry of Magic.” Obi-Wan explained, “Only smaller, of course, but very bright. I felt like I was going to get sucked up if I stared at her for too long.”

“Surely, you’ve already guessed what this means.” Satine said, the crackling fire sounding crisp from behind Cody.

“Dooku has connections inside the Ministry? Yes, I did contemplate that as I was flying backwards from her sudden bolts of lightning.” He deadpanned, “Forgot about it though until you just mentioned it.”

“So what good is your parents involving more Ministry agents then?” Cody complained.

“I don’t know,” Obi-Wan scrubbed a hand over his head and Satine was trying to decode if this was exhaustion a concussion that was plaguing him. “But what I do know is that they are very keen on protecting our resident chosen one.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Cody said cautiously.

“It’s not!” Obi-Wan defended immediately, sitting up straighter instantly, “Of course it’s not. I just mean that they hadn’t expressed nearly as much interest in him when he was just a mischievous little Gryffindor boy. That’s all. Perhaps, their additional support and connections will bring us to the bottom of things sooner.”

Obi-Wan must have been feeling awful, because he never complained about his parents, even in an indirect fashion such as this. That being said, he certainly had a point. While she had been busy thinking about the terrible implications and insults they’d thrown her way earlier, she had briefly considered that they were not here for Obi-Wan, alone.

“I take it conferences didn’t go as planned for you.” Cody said.

“Obviously not,” Obi-Wan snorted, “But I mean, Anakin is younger and likely needed a presence there for his conferences more. Qui-Gon said he contemplated on stepping in too.”

Satine sighed. The moment of his brief rebellion had since passed just as quick as it came. 

“I would really rather not uncover a slew of dark secrets about yet another professor, that’s all.” She said, “That’s my bar for the year and yes, I understand it’s quite low.”

“Well, I intend to aim high,” Cody said, “I explained my Quidditch strategy for the year to my Dad and he seems pretty confident we’ll pull through too.”

“Ah, so you were able to detract the stoic Jango Fett from just studies.” Obi-Wan teased.

“It helped that Ninety-Nine was there. Having him around always makes Dad a little softer.”

“I can’t say the same for my sibling.” Satine complained, “Though it feels a bit daft to moan and groan about a petulant little sister though when Ben was quite literally abandoned and left for dead during his conferences.”

“It wasn’t my parents’ fault I got blasted.” Obi-Wan said, “And besides, your sister really did not seem to like me or much of anything.”

“Don’t take it personally, mate.” Cody laughed, “When Bo-Katan met me, she told me I had a very square head and that it didn’t suit me.”

Satine and Obi-Wan both burst out into a much needed fit of laughter, unable to control themselves at the visual of the conversation. Satine could picture those very words coming from Bo’s mouth and while it mortified her then, she had to admit it was quite funny, especially since Bo had been 9 years old at the time.

“Well, you do have a square head.” Satine said finally.

“But it suits me!” He said defensively, which caused the three of them to slip into giggles again. “Hey, at least my head is in working order. How hard did you hit that wall earlier?”

Obi-Wan frowned, “Not hard enough to forget that horrible marking that was on that poor girl’s arm. I doubt she consented to that being placed there.”

“The plan had likely been to have her kill Anakin at the party and become unenchanted afterwards.” Satine said, “Which is a horrifying thought.”

“Luckily I was there to take the blow.” Obi-Wan said earnestly and Satine couldn’t help but fix him with a glare to show just how little she agreed with that statement.

“I’m glad Anakin’s okay, but I would also prefer if you could be okay too.”

“I second that notion, mate.” Cody clapped him on the shoulder and Obi-Wan winced, “Maybe you should see Madame Nema.”

“Oh no, absolutely not. I’ve just got some bruises!”

“Oh really? Take off your shirt!” Satine argued and instantly regretted her words as she was returned with a very flustered expression from Obi-Wan and a cheeky one from Cody, “You know what I mean! Prove it’s just a bruise or two.”

Obi-Wan gaped, opening and closing his mouth, before shutting it all together in astonishment that Satine also felt to her very core. Had she really just said that like it was nothing? Was she not supposed to be in Ravenclaw? Actually, wasn’t she supposed to have an active brain in general?

Cody chuckled, “Well, I better go then.”

“F-For what reason?” She stammered and grimaced at her hesitance.

He smirked, “For one thing, it’s almost curfew. Also, I really don’t need to see anything I shouldn’t.”

“Oh bugger off!” Obi-Wan scowled, but his ears had turned a bright and shiny red that Satine couldn’t help but be charmed by.

Internally, she asked herself a question that had been recited through her mind a few times that summer. What if she just went for it? She suspected he didn’t know in full what her feelings were, which put the ball metaphorically in her court. This was fine, because Satine wasn’t sure what she would do if it were the other way around. 

Once Cody did leave and it was just the two of them in front of the crackling fire, sitting far closer than most friends do, and facing each other, she swallowed.

“Here, let me check and make sure you don’t have a concussion at the very least.”

He sighed heavily, as though allowing her to quickly inspect him would be the hardest task in the world, but was obedient when she gently took his face in her hands. She tried desperately not to think about how soft his face was or how fixated he seemed to be on her eyes. 

She raised her wand, reciting “lumos” to bring it to aglow, “Now, follow the light.”

He did as he was told- bright eyes following the tip of her wand with little struggle. 

“What’s 7x7?”

“49.” He answered quickly.

“What’s my favorite color?”

“Blue.” He said.

“What was the last thing we learned in Charms last year?”

“How to make a teacup grow legs.” Ben said, “And yours tried to attack me.”

“It was a smart teacup,” She smirked. “What’s your birthday?”

“Nice try, Miss Prefect.” He smiled and pulled away to give her best mock-glare, “You’re going to have to do better than that to figure out what my birthday is.”

“Hm, bold of you to assume that was my best.” She said, “Though I suppose this does mean you don’t have a concussion.”

And yet, neither of them moved for a long moment.

“Ben-”

“-Yes?” He asked, earnest as ever. “What is it?”

Her tongue went dry as they met eyes and she thought, not for the first time, how brilliant his gray-blue eyes looked when reflected in firelight. Her sister was crazy to believe he was nothing special to write about. Then again, Bo didn’t know him too well.

“There’s something I need to tell you.” She was stalling, because how does one just come right out and say it? How do you take that leap over the edge, even if you know how the other person feels? What if it didn’t work? What if they hated each other after?

No, she could never hate him. She would always-

“Does this have to do with the diary your sister mentioned?” He asked and for some reason, this deflated any of the build-up that was causing her heart to slam against her chest cavity with increased enthusiasm.

“N-No!” She raged, “And don’t go thinking you’re hot to trot simply because I may have mentioned you there.”

“I would never.” He smiled, “Though I suppose if I were keeping a journal, I’d write about you as well.”

“Well, you better!” She said angrily, “I’m your bloody best friend, after all.”

“Yes, you are…” He reached between the minute chasm of space left between them and took her hand in his, causing any other previous thoughts to short circuit. She couldn’t seem to stop flickering her gaze between their joined hands and the intense look in his eyes as he practically beckoned for her attention.

As if it could be anywhere else right now.

“And I…” He took in a deep breath, “I wanted to apologize profusely for what my parents said earlier. It was wrong and quite frankly, embarrassing. I’m even less proud of the way I didn’t step in more.”

“Ben-” She wanted to say some version of “No, it’s not your fault that your parents are terrible hypocrites.” but he didn’t allow for it.

“You are the furthest thing from a mistake or an accident or whatever other crude language they could ever try to use to describe you,” He said, “And you don’t have to be the brightest witch of our age for that to be the case.”

“Even though I am.” She couldn’t help but add in.

“You are,” He smiled brightly, “You’re absolutely brilliant in every meaning of the word. I just meant to say that even if you weren’t, you just being… You…  is what makes you great and well, I don’t think I would have made it this far without you.”

“I’m not sure about that,” She murmured quietly, “You are, after all, my only true competition.”

“And I’m honored to be anywhere beside you.” He said it like it was a prayer and once again, she felt like the ability to breathe was no longer something she could do, “You’re not a mistake. You’re a miracle.”

Satine swore her heart was going to explode. 

He gave her hand a nice, affirming squeeze, before realizing how close they were sitting and getting up to his feet. He turned back to her with hands now in his pockets, seeming like he was unsure of what to do with himself from there. 

“If you think,” She cleared her throat as she got up to follow him up the stairs, “That all of that nice stuff is going to make me forget about checking you tomorrow for further injuries, you’re sadly mistaken.”

“I would have it no other way, my dear.” He smiled roguishly, “Just do try and refrain from asking me to strip again.”

She tossed a book at him and he dodged it, laughing merrily.

***

“Have they concluded initial questioning?” Qui-Gon asked as he and Mace Windu walked side-by-side to the dungeons, where the secret assailant was being kept for questioning. He winced as he heard her panting for breath echoing off the walls. He certainly didn’t have the stomach for some of the more medieval tactics of acquiring information. It was the seedy part of the job that often went unmentioned at career fairs.

“Just about,” Mace said sternly, his eyes like stone as he kept his gaze forward. It was strange seeing him in this environment, even if the man was always a little stoic. It was like he was slipping back into that role before his very eyes.

“And?” Qui-Gon asked after a meaty pause. Was this really the time to mince words?

“And I’m not cleared to release sensitive information,” Windu said pointedly.

“Why call me at all then?” 

Something in Windu’s profile shifted- whether it be the intensity of his furrowed brow or the increased tightness of his jaw, Qui-Gon was unsure. However, it was easy to see that he was uneasy about something specific

“You’ll see.” He said instead.

“That’s very comforting, thank you, Mace.” Qui-Gon drawled, “Anakin’s life was at risk again, you know, and while I disagree with the Kenobi’s for being so…”

“Dogmatic.” He helpfully supplied, “Nosy? Sniveling? Spoiled rotten?”

“Anyway,” Qui-Gon carefully sidestepped, “Are they so wrong for being upset? We opened our doors to this madness and have the audacity to be surprised it came in?”

“It’s all very suspicious, I’ll give you that.” Windu said.

“Suspicious? It’s obvious.” Qui-Gon sighed heavily, “Dooku is at it again.”

“Well, we never were under the impression that he would stop, not while he still lives uncuffed.” He said darkly and then flashed Qui-Gon what was an honest attempt at sympathy, “It’s not your fault he runs free.”

“It matters not if it is or isn’t. We must get to the bottom of this,” Qui-Gon strutted into the chamber where the attacker was being held, “We must find out how to best protect Anakin and the rest of the students.”

“Join us, you have.” Yoda greeted them from where he was perched in a stone seat beside Minister Valorum and across from a drenched woman with tan skin, who was promptly cuffed to the table between them. To her right was Coleman Trebor and to her left, a large fluffy Talz auror whose two sets of beady black eyes were regarding them with question. It wasn’t often that professors were drawn into private investigations, after all.

“Foul Moudama, this is Qui-Gon Jinn.” Coleman Trebor explained.

At the mention of his name, the furry white auror nodded sagely in understanding, which was not the least bit of a comforting gesture. He supposed there was a reason he was the teacher of small children and these two were designed to hunt bloodthirsty villains.

“And Qui-Gon,” Trebor turned his long, scaly head towards him again, “This is Deena Riss.”

Qui-Gon recognized her, of course, as the cloaked assassin that had attempted to murder Anakin Skywalker earlier that evening. He’d only truly seen her unconscious before, but upon first impression, noted that she didn’t look the least bit aggressive or malicious. In fact, he could only describe her as befuddled and confused.

He nodded and took the empty seat beside Yoda and folded his hands in front of him. Qui-Gon was a patient man. He always was. He never let his feelings get the better of him. Did that mean he had any tolerance towards someone who could be so brazen as to step into this castle and try to take the life of a twelve year old boy? No.

She was still panting, clearly still recovering from whatever waterboarding they’d done to her to try and get information from her.

“Why did you do it, Miss Riss?”

She looked at the two aurors beside her, who seemed more tired than anything else. Qui-Gon was surprised at this. Was it not their whole job to be here right now? To investigate this case?

“I don’t know.” She swallowed, leveling him with her dark brown eyes, never once wavering from her stance. Headmaster Yoda kept his wand outstretched, a white tip aglow on the end of the small wand. If she were lying, it would glow a sharp red.

“Who are you working for?” He tried again.

“I don’t know.” She answered with just as much confidence and even more diction. He turned to see the white light.

“Who are you?”

“I’m an officer for the Ministry of Magic,” She said and no matter how exhausted she likely was from the countless attempts at getting her to spiel something different, she spoke the words verbatim without any hesitance. They were the truth, “I would lay my life down protecting those who cannot. It’s what I signed up for years ago and it’s what I continue to do. I can’t stay away from the job, because I love doing it. I love keeping people safe. That, whatever happened, was not me.”

“Why did you betray your post?” He asked. 

“I didn’t.” She said and then bit her lip, “As far as I know, I didn’t.”

He was surprised to find the tip still white, but then again, the spell was designed to read the truth of the speaker. If for example, Deena Riss truly believed the sky to be green and the grass to be blue, it would show no indication of a lie.

“These are the sorts of results we’ve been receiving too.” Trebor said and Modama merely grunted. Qui-Gon wasn’t sure the latter spoke English, but he felt the sentiment all the same radiating off of him.

Qui-Gon looked back to Deena Riss, “Tell us about your day.”

“I already told them,” She sighed and rubbed her temples. Qui-Gon startled when he noticed the mark on her wrist, “I can’t even remember my week, let alone my day.”

“What do you mean?” He decided to come back to the tattoo, which looked as painful to receive as it was ugly. It clearly hadn’t been done by wand, but by needle and not from a professional’s hand.

“I mean, I don’t recall ever accepting this job in the first place! I don’t remember getting this stupid tattoo! And I don’t remember ever agreeing to any hit target. Seeing as that’s never been my thing, I’d say I would.”

“I’d say you would too,” Qui-Gon furrowed his brow as he looked over to a calm and understanding Yoda.

“So, no matter how much you try to get me to say otherwise, there isn’t anything to say. I am Deena Riss and I have a perfect record supporting my name. I refuse to let this define me when that wasn’t even me doing it.”

“So, who do you suppose it was?” Qui-Gon asked. He didn’t mean to sound like he didn’t believe her. While a perfect history didn’t mean someone was innocent, take Dooku for example, Yoda’s truth detector didn’t lie. 

“All I can tell you is that there was this sinister voice… It was all I heard… And it was haunting me, caging me inside. I was trapped and I could never be sure for how long. I could see the things I was doing but only in small blips… Like my psyche was trying to fight what was happening though none of it was detrimental. Just, talking to some of my coworkers or taking bites of breakfast. I wasn’t strong enough to ward it off. And strangely, it was in the form of a song, but I couldn’t tell you the tune to save my life.”

“Was it a male or female voice?” Windu asked.

“Male at first, but later female.” She shivered and it was a very visceral and real reaction, “The male voice was leathery and thick… Booming… Power… The female voice was shrill and daunting, going out of its way to keep me from escaping.”

Qui-Gon stroked his beard, “So, Ms. Riss, what is the very last thing you remember before waking up today?”

“I was leaving work,” She thought back, “A security job for a buyer that was meeting a collector. He was buying something valuable, but I wasn’t privy to what. It was commissioned straight through the Ministry, you can check for yourself, and was completely legit.”

“Do you remember this man? Any details?” Windu asked more urgently with a hand pressed to the table as he leaned over Qui-Gon. His presence was heavy with frustration and even more so in fear. 

“Well, the buyer was Rish Loo, some Gungan collector who liked to pawn off different types of strange artifacts. He’s got family in the Ministry. It seemed like an easy and quick gig, but I don’t remember anything beyond stepping foot in that pub.”

“Nothing about the seller?” Qui-Gon asked.

“He wore a cloak and was selling jewelry,” She said dejectedly and pleaded with him, “I’m sorry, that’s all that I know of him.”

Qui-Gon stared at her for a moment longer, reading the desperation in her eyes. This woman was lost, that much he could confirm. She didn’t know what her greater purpose in all of this was or if there was one. Whether she was merely delusional or something even more terrifying had yet to be determined.

“A word, Qui-Gon?” Yoda finally spoke again and he didn’t seem nearly as perplexed as to what was going on. Qui-Gon, without taking his eyes off Deena Riss and more importantly, the tattoo on her arm, slowly backed out of the room in tow of Yoda. 

“That mark, Headmaster-”

“-Sith symbol it is,” He whispered in a low gravelly voice. Qui-Gon leaned against the wet stone wall to his left in order to make looking down at the small Headmaster a little easier on his back. He took a deep breath in, not once appreciating the damp and moldy smell that the dungeons always seemed to hold.

“You don’t just get those on any corner,” Qui-Gon pointed out.

“Done by hand, this was,” Yoda nodded, “By Dooku.”

“Or one of his followers. But for what? Free advertisement? She gave no indication to knowing what it was.” He said, “What is her place in this?”

“Fulfilled, it is,” Yoda said curiously, “Gone, the artifact is.”

Qui-Gon’s eyes widened, “You believe that artifact the seller- Dooku was in possession of was cursed to possess its holder?”

“Line up with Obi-Wan’s statement, it does,” Yoda nodded gravely, “Blue eyes, mindless movements, foreign voice.”

Qui-Gon made the mental note to check on Obi-Wan, “And what if she’s just playing into our assumptions, Headmaster?”

Yoda waved his little wand around, which was the only wand Qui-Gon had ever seen be only 6 inches, “Fabricate, this does not. Back her story, her co-workers have.”

“And she’s been acting completely normal all week? What about Rish Loo? The buyer. Can we not ask him?”

A dark look crossed Yoda’s face in the shadows of the gray dungeon hallway and Qui-Gon already knew the answer. “He was found dead?”

“Reported by Deena, he was. Killed by his seller, he was.”

“And how do we know he wasn’t killed by her?” Qui-Gon asked.

“Checked her wand, they did. Killed by the killing curse, he was.”

Qui-Gon ran a hand through his long hair in disbelief, “Dooku’s made his first kill then.”

“That we know of.” Yoda reminded him.

No, that certainly didn’t sit any better. And more frighteningly, that there was an artifact that could possess its holder into apparently trying to blindly murder Anakin Skywalker, lost somewhere in the castle. It couldn’t have gotten far if it wasn’t on Deena. Unless she’d dropped it, whatever it was. 

Or it had been taken off of her in the chaos of the Kenobi's outburst against Yoda. He had to admit that even his focus wasn’t on the unconscious girl during the skirmish. 

“We need to find that artifact,” He said.

“Indeed,” Yoda nodded, “Figure out who has it, we must.”

That sat even worse with Qui-Gon as they walked back into the chamber. He sat defeatedly down in the same seat he’d occupied prior, looking at Deena Riss with new resolve. She was nothing more than a pawn in this whole setup and her name would be dragged through the mud forever. Dooku, it seemed, committed more than one murder that day in his own way.

“What was the voice telling you to do?” He asked, “Was it telling you how to kill Anakin Skywalker?”

It felt like a sick question to ask, but he needed to know in the event that it might provide a clue or two in how to protect and prevent such an incident.

“Skywalker?” She frowned and shook her head, “It wasn’t about Skywalker.”

“Then who?” Qui-Gon asked. 

***

“You wanted to see me Headmaster?” Obi-Wan asked as he cautiously entered Yoda’s office. The boy had a way about him that didn’t want to inconvenience anyone, even if he’d been invited. Yoda’s heart squeezed at the thought of such a thing being possible. How one could turn down the inquisitive mind of a child, he didn’t know.

“Young Obi-Wan, indeed.” He took a calming sip of some of the tea Kit Fisto had gifted him with after getting the position as the new DADA professor. It was supposed to be made solely of properties from the ocean and have the relaxing sensation of sea spray and a warm day at the beach. Yoda didn’t know about all of that, but he’d take any help he could get at this rate.

Obi-Wan took a seat, his knees bending up towards his chin as he’d chosen a seat geared more towards people Yoda’s size. It wasn’t as big of a problem when the boy was in his first formative years at Hogwarts, but now he was stretching out a great deal vertically. Yoda absently wondered why he never changed his chairs to fit his guests more often. 

“Wanted to check on you, I did.” He said.

“Oh, my head is much better now,” He confirmed, “Nothing more than a big bump, it would seem.”

“Good to hear, that is,” Yoda pointed his cane at him, “Interfere with your big brains, we don’t want to.”

“No, my grades will not slip as a result of this,” He chuckled when he said it, but Yoda had a nagging suspicion that he’d said it before to someone else in a more serious tone of voice. 

“Emotionally, I wanted to check on you.” Yoda amended his previous statement.

“I’m alright!” Obi-Wan shifted, “It’s Anakin who should be worried, I suppose, seeing as presumably Dooku is out for him again.”

“Indeed, he is.” Yoda sighed, “Stop overnight, the dark side does not. Fester, it does. Hide under rocks, they will. Before coming out, they do.”

Obi-Wan nodded, “I’m surprised I’ve not spoken to the aurors by now… Given I was the only witness to the attack and based on my parents’... Reaction.”

He was trying to find the words to apologize without completely betraying his family, but Yoda wanted no such thing from the child. It was not his place or fault to mend anyone’s fences but his own. He raised a three-fingered claw and leveled with him, “Moved to hunting Dooku down, they have.”

“Oh,” Obi-Wan actually seemed disappointed by this, which he supposed did make sense given his field of study for the future. 

“Give them your words, I will.” Yoda said hopefully, “Remember anything, do you?”

Obi-Wan frowned, “Sir… It was strange. That girl… I know I mentioned that she was surely possessed, just based on her glowing eyes, but she was speaking parseltongue.”

Yoda considered this, “Sure, you are?”

“I remember it quite clearly from when Anakin passed out last year.” Obi-Wan said with confidence, “I know what it sounds like.”

It was a bit difficult to miss, Yoda had to admit, but it made the entire puzzle more daunting. Why could she speak parseltongue? Unless, Dooku was a parseltongue all these years and never showed it? He did have some royal blood in his family lineage that could do to be explored.

“Notice any odd… Items, did you?”

“Items?” He furrowed his brow in thought.

“Jewelry, trinkets, toys…”

“Besides the tattoo?” Obi-Wan asked.

“Mhmm,”

“Not that I can remember.” He admitted, clearly disappointed that he wasn’t offering anything of notation at the moment. “I was a bit distracted.”

“Acted quick you did,” Yoda commended, “Brave, you were.”

“Thank you, Headmaster, but I believe I only did what anyone else would.”

“What not many could, you did.” He said firmly.

***

Satine quite missed having classes with her friends. She’d taken for granted how nice it was to have Ben, Aayla, or Stass to talk to in between. Perhaps that’s why she hadn’t minded that Fenn Rau had started tagging along between her History and Charms classes. He said he had class in a similar direction and would love to learn a thing or two about how she went about patrolling, so she agreed with an easy shrug. She wasn’t too keen on being any sort of mentor like she had been last year, but she didn’t mind having him along to observe.

“You seem like the type to enjoy a cup of tea,” Fenn suggested.

“I do,” She agreed, as she turned to take them the long way to the Charms classroom. He took note rather quickly, as she expected any Ravenclaw would.

“Perhaps you can give me a few recommendations,” He was smiling rather brightly at her. At least one of them was a morning person. 

“Everyone has a different taste. What I like isn’t necessarily what you’ll like.”

They turned around another corner and his hand bumped into hers on accident, “Now I know this isn’t the fastest way to Charms. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten the way?”

“Of course not,” Satine scoffed, “As prefects it's important we keep track of all the hallways,” Satine explained, “We can’t check everywhere between classes so I’ve taken to making sure my path to class is unpredictable.”

“That’s very Ravenclaw of you,” He chuckled, his hand bumped into hers again. Perhaps, she was walking him too close to the wall. She moved her hand up to grasp the strap of her bag, “I’d expect nothing less from the best in her year.”

“Ben’s actually at the top right now by about half a point,” She corrected, although she counted the two of them to both be at the top, she didn’t want his own hard work and effort to be ignored.

“Speaking of ‘Ben’,” Satine nearly paused, it was always odd to hear anyone other than herself call him that, “I’ve been meaning to ask why do-”

He never got to finish his thought because at that moment they rounded the corner to see what looked to be every girl in the school and a fair few others. Everyone was talking at once, so much so that Satine couldn’t make anything out. She stood on her tiptoes to peer over the crowd and to a mixture of shock and horror, saw her two friends, Stass and Aayla, at the center of attention.

Breaking up large crowds of students was Satine’s specialty. She made short work of waving away students and threatening to dock house points. Rau finished scaring off a few 5th year girls while Satine finally made her way to her friends.

“What happened?” Aayla looked impossibly flustered, which didn’t bode well for someone who was a hard egg to crack.

“Professor Fisto asked her to stay after class,” Stass answered sagely.

Perhaps, Aayla had just gotten into some trouble, but that didn’t explain the crowd, “Did you do something wrong?”

“No I did something right,” Suddenly Aayla’s eyes were twinkling and Satine had even less of a clue to go on.

“Professor Fisto wanted to congratulate her on getting the highest grade on our pretest,” Stass explained.

“He told me I had great promise,” The purple blush coating Aayla’s face seemed to grow at the thought.

“He asked her what she wanted to do after graduation-”

“And then I asked him what he did-”

“He was on the team of wizards that explored the Mariana Trench,” Satine wasn’t sure why this information was so interesting to nearly half the school, but she could see why he’d been selected to be the new Dark Arts professor. The unexplored portions of the ocean surely contained unexplained dark magic.

“So he’s qualified,” Satine said slowly.

“Oh Satine,” She’d forgotten Rau was still here, “Women love a mysterious man.”

Like the final puzzle piece had been slotted into place, Satine shook her head, “Fenn, why don’t you go on to class now,” Rau seemed disappointed by the dismissal, but did as she asked without complaint.

Once he was out of earshot she turned and hissed at her lovestruck friend, “He’s a professor!”

“For only 2 short years!” Her eyes were sparkling with delusion and even Stass rolled her eyes, “Once I graduate, we’ll bump into one another during a routine trip to Diagon Alley. He’ll ask me what I’ve been up to and then he’ll tell me he always knew I’d go on to great things,”

“Perhaps you did hit your head a little too hard during last year’s Quidditch season,” Stass put a hand on their friend's cheek to check for a fever presumably, but Aayla batted her away.

“It won’t be love at first sight! It will take a few more chance meetings,” She stood then, rising from the window sill with too much purpose for something like this, “Then he’ll ask me on a date and it. Will. Be. Wonderful!” She declared.

“Aayla-” Satine started, but Aayla shook her head, clearing it from the clouds.

“I know, I know, but a girl can dream,” She tilted her head back towards the DADA classroom, “Besides, I don’t mind admiring him from afar.”

Stass gave Aayla’s shoulder a quick sympathetic pat, “Well I quite prefer my head to sit on my shoulders.”

***

The last person Obi-Wan was expecting to see on his evening patrol was Fenn Rau. It wasn’t uncommon for prefects to switch with each other, but Fenn Rau looked almost disappointed when he came into view. Obi-Wan felt his teeth grit together so he supposed the feeling was mutual.

“Oh, Kenobi,” Rau greeted with a wave, “I thought Satine was patrolling tonight.”

He hadn’t been completely off base in his suspicions, “Satine wanted to catch up on homework this evening,” He would certainly not be disclosing any more information.

“That’s a shame,” Obi-Wan didn’t think so. Rau scratched the back of his head, both of them strapping in for a rather awkward patrol, “I’m surprised she wanted to switch with you, she’s never seemed like a morning person.”

“And how would you know!” Obi-Wan thought rather bitterly.

“She should have asked to switch with me. I had a mid,” Rau laughed, but Obi-Wan was hard pressed to hear it over his own heartbeat.

“Let’s get on with this shall we,” He gritted out instead. Rau seemed a little taken aback, but followed after him as Obi-Wan turned.

The silence following was blissful. Only the echo of their shoes on the cobblestone and the snoring of portraits to be heard. It was a grave error then, when Obi-Wan decided to ruin it with his own morbid curiosity.

“Why were you trying to patrol with Satine?” He had to ask, it was practically eating away at his heart. Rau fell into step beside him at the opportunity, though Obi-Wan quite wished he’d stayed trailing behind.

“Well you know...” But he didn’t know, and as if sensing this Rau sighed, “I just want to get to know her. We’re both prefects,” Obi-Wan liked that answer, but it didn’t sit quite right.

“I haven’t seen you trying to get to know any of the other prefects,” Obi-Wan pointed out. Rau looked a little uncomfortable, like he was being interrogated, but if Obi-Wan was wanting to interrogate him, he was sure he’d do it in a more professional way.

“What about you?” Rau asked suddenly and Obi-Wan almost faltered in his gait.

“What about me?” Obi-Wan countered, fiddling with the watch on his wrist, “I’ve already gotten to know my fellow prefects.”

“Yeah, but I always see you around Satine,” He pointed out and Obi-Wan scoffed, waving a hand.

“We’ve been friends since first year, it just so happens that we both became prefects,” Rau seemed to inspect him slowly.

“So you’ve been friends since first year,” He repeated slowly and Obi-Wan nodded.

“Of course, best friends,” He confirmed, “Satine, Cody, and myself.”

“I see.”

They lapsed back into silence. Obi-Wan thought once again he should enjoy such quiet, but there was something about the way Rau looked like he was mulling something over that unsettled him. A nagging sort of voice, one that sounded a little too much like Satine, told him he may have missed something important about this conversation. He would have to dissect it later, but for now they wandered through the dark halls of the castle together under moonlight.

***

“It’s finally Saturday!” Cody roared, practically standing on the Gryffindor table as he made his announcement to the entire house. Though Anakin figured he was loud enough for the whole Great Hall to hear, “Quidditch tryouts are today! If you wished there was more time to practice, tough luck! You should have been practicing over the summer,” He paused though as he gazed in scrutiny across the table, “Although, muggle-borns don’t you fear, there will be special consideration for those of you who had nowhere safe to fly over the summer.”

Anakin would rather he just shut it and give this speech out on the field. He was hungry and the food seemed to refuse to appear anywhere it might be stepped on. Rex seemed to have the same thought as he exchanged glances with Anakin. Luckily for both of them, the screech of a particularly loud owl cut off any more that he’d have to say as mail started being dropped all around. Cody dodged an owl going straight for his head, before finally dropping into his seat.

“Woah! Look at that!” Rex pointed up and Anakin followed the motion to a pair of beautiful tawny owls carrying a long thin package. It was near obvious to guess what it was by shape alone.

“Who got a new broom?” Anakin considered as they passed overhead, he did not expect the clatter as the broom was dropped onto silver plates right in front of him, stopping near all conversation in the Great Hall as they all looked over to Gryffindor table.

“Uhhhhhhhh,” Anakin and Rex both looked at one another and then the confused Gryffindor’s across from them. When no one made a move to grab it, Anakin shrugged and pulled it towards him. It’s not like he hadn’t seen anything more dangerous than a mysterious broom. He flipped it over and dropped the handle in shock. His name was written in very well-manicured green script, so he wasted no time ripping it open.

For a moment everything was still as the beautifully polished piece of wood slid out of its wrappings before someone gasped and then everyone was talking at once.

“It can’t be-”

“-Just came out!”

“Firebolt Supreme!”

Anakin, himself, was shocked at the turn of events. This obviously hadn’t been sent by his mother, as this much money could have possibly gotten them a whole new apartment and then some.

“It came with a card,” Cody was looking at him with an unreadable expression, one of those tawny owls sitting primly on his shoulder as if they were old friends. Anakin took the card from his outstretched hand, the green seal… He’d seen it before.

“We couldn’t allow such a special boy to ride around on a plain broom. We look forward to seeing it in action. -The Kenobi’s”

His first thought was perhaps Obi-Wan had suggested such an idea, but why did Cody seem so surprised then? He supposed he remembered discussing brooms with Professor Palpatine, but could they really have just decided to do such a nice thing for him?

“Do you think it’s real?” Rex asked as he tentatively touched the handle with one finger. 

“It’s from the Kenobi’s!” Anakin said much too loudly, causing the surrounding crowd to whisper amongst themselves, “I doubt they’d buy a fake,” His hands itched to grab it though, “Guess we should try it out though, yeah?”

***

“Did you know?” Satine asked as the Gryffindors barreled past them, Anakin holding his new broom over his head in excitement. Cody passed by too, clearly needing to make sure his Quidditch team didn’t get themselves killed, but he sent them a sympathetic look all the same.

“No,” Ben answered simply, nodding at Cody as he left the Great Hall.

“How could they just-” She started, but Ben shook his head.

“They can spend their money however they’d like,” He sounded neutral on the matter, but Satine could see that he was not, “Anakin needed a new broom eventually.”

But Satine disagreed much more about the circumstances than the turnout.

***

“Alright recruits!” The hype over Anakin’s new broom had died down just in time for tryouts and Rex clutched his own Cleansweep 15 tightly. He’d been trained quite brutally this summer in hopes of making it on the team, but he knew Cody wasn’t going to go easy on him.

Anakin was standing a little too proudly next to Fives and Echo, who would also be starting on the team this year. It was a relief not to see Krell and word on the street was he’d skipped town and gone to a different wizarding school this year. Good riddance.

“We’ll offer tryouts for every position, even if there aren’t any openings,” Cody announced, “If you’re better than what we’ve got, you’re in, they’re out. Sound good?” It probably didn’t to anyone already on the team, but everyone nodded anyways and tryouts began.

Rex had picked very carefully the position he would fill. He could play anything as he often reminded Anakin when asked, but given the current openings on the team, and the current players it only made sense for him to try out for-

“Potential Seekers, line up!” He fell into place with practiced ease. Yes, Seeker was his best chance at getting picked. He had exceptionally good vision and was good at strategizing on his own. He’d won a fair few games back home as seeker and he was pretty sure he could dish out whatever Cody would serve.

The Seeker’s tryout was tricky. Cody released 3 snitches, you only had to catch one, but you were allowed to catch the others if you happened to see them first. There were about 10 of them trying out, all different years, and the 7th years definitely looked frustrated enough to knock him clear off his broom if he got in their way. He supposed if he’d failed to get on the team 5 times he’d be pretty mad about it too.

They all flew up into the air, spaced enough apart and clearly trying to find the best vantage point. They weren’t allowed to touch the snitches right away having to wait until the whistle blew to go after them. This meant that if Rex could keep his eyes on at least one, he’d be good to go.

They stayed frozen in the air, Cody watching them all carefully, before the whistle sounded and everyone burst into action. If he’d learned anything from Cody’s rambling, it was sometimes best when you were small to let the bigger members pick each other off. So Rex kept his speed fairly neutral as two 7th years crashed into each other, spinning out and crashing to the ground. He sped forward, snatching the snitch they’d been after with well-practiced ease. He held it up for his brother to see before putting it in his robe pocket, he would not be taking the easy way out.

Looking around the arena, it seemed like maybe one other snitch had been caught, but the way everyone was just hovering and searching, it wasn’t over yet. Everyone was searching pretty high up, even the two 7th years who had crashed had managed to make it back up into the air. Given the amount of eyes on the field right now, Rex could guess if it was so high up it would have already been caught so he casually let his broom flutter lower and lower as he circled close to the ground.

He was lucky, no one paid him much mind, clearly thinking because he’d already found one that he was giving up. He weaved between the Quidditch hoops before finally his eye caught a gleam of gold. The final snitch was hovering at the base of the Quidditch hoop on the opposite side of the field. If he rushed to it, someone with a faster broom could beat him there, so instead he slowly drifted around, weaving on his broom like he was being flippant with the whole thing. When he was close enough though with no one tailing him, he put on a sudden burst of speed snatching that golden spec out of the air and pulling up before he slammed into the bleachers.

Cody blew the whistle.

“That’s three! Everyone get back down here!” Cody was quick to go down the list, giving tips and suggestions to each individual. The older students looked rather annoyed, but the younger they got, the more receptive they seemed to be. Rex thought it would be stupid to blow off Cody’s advice. If there was one thing he knew about his brother, it was that he wanted everyone to learn how to do their best.

Soon enough the tryouts were done and Cody was announcing who would be joining the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Rex could hardly listen past the beating of his own heart. He knew he deserved a spot on that team, but had he shown himself worthy enough? He thought so.

“And our additional Seeker,” Cody looked up from his notes, addressing the crowd and not even looking in his direction, “Will be Rex Fett, for showing ingenuity and aptitude that no one else did.”

“Playing favorites again,” Someone behind him hissed, but Rex dared not turn around. He knew his brother had gotten crap about letting both Fives and Echo on the team- he’d heard from the twins that it was best dealt by ignoring it, lest it get out of hand.

“Rex will be our back up, for Moteé,” Cody confirmed and Rex looked at him in shock. Back up? He knew he was still young, but he thought- “That’s all for now. Dismissed!” Rex waited for the crowd to disperse and disappear into the locker rooms before he approached his brother.

“Cody-”

“Rex! You really-” Cody smiled at him, but Rex shook his head.

“Me? Back-up? Seriously?” Rex asked, “I know I’m only in my 2nd year, but Anakin-”

“Oh,” It seemed to dawn on Cody then, “Anakin’s a special case, Rexy. He’s a natural, and we need talent like that on our team.”

“So I’m not good enough for you then?” Rex shot back, “What was the point of training me all summer then?”

“You’re plenty good Rex,” Cody frowned.

“Then what am I lacking here?” Rex questioned, throwing his hands up, “A prophecy? A rich friend? What is it, oh lord of Quidditch?”

“See here Rex,” Cody jabbed a finger at him, “I’ll be having none of this if you want a spot on this team. Fives and Echo waited their turns just like you will; especially if you keep this up. So what will it be? There’s still time to call the other guy back.”

“Whatever, Captain,” Rex summoned his broom and stormed off towards the locker rooms.

***

Cody was stewing over his interaction with Rex, so much so that he almost got beaned in the head by Ventress’s broom. She’d “accidently” adjusted its position too close to his head, but it seemed like getting his attention was part of it.

“Kindly vacate the field before I have you dragged off, Captain,” She sneered. Ventress had been crowned captain at the very end of last year’s term. Although Cody didn’t like her personality, he wouldn’t deny that she was the best choice for the position.

“Make sure your new recruits know the rules,” Cody ducked to avoid her broom again, flashing her a cheeky grin, “I’d hate to see Slytherin flagged on the first play of the year.”

“Don’t worry your pretty head,” She scoffed, “Slytherins are all familiar with Quidditch, long before their letter,” A clear jab towards muggle-borns, though it was untrue. Whether Ventress admitted it or not, there were muggle-borns in Slytherin, “Might want to make sure your team doesn’t fall apart, what with your pet beater.”

“Jealous?” Cody teased, “Anakin’s got pure talent, and you’ve got what? Scare tactics?”

“Slytherins are built on ambition, you know,” She reminded him before practically walking through him to stand at the head of her team.

The Slytherin tryouts were much different than Gryffindors, Ventress and the Captains before her tended to look for who wanted it the most, who would do whatever it took to win. She hadn’t been wrong about Slytherin's ambition. That’s what made Slytherin the best rival to Gryffindor’s bravery on the field, not that Cody would be caught dead admitting to it.

Normally he’d be more interested in watching the new recruits, but instead he took his time cleaning up in the locker room. Cody had always thought being Captain would be a cinch. He’d read every book, every manual. He knew every rule and practically every strategy. It turns out though, that there was a lot more to being a good Captain than just strategy and knowledge, just as there was more to the game then tossing around a couple balls. His team had a lot of promise. If he could get them to all come together like cogs of a clock, he knew they’d be unstoppable.

***

With the graduation of Galen Erso, Ravenclaw team had passed the torch of captain onto the completely obvious choice of Eeth Koth. He wasn’t the only one who wanted to be captain, but he was the logical choice and Obi-Wan had no qualms in voting for him. Perhaps, it was the Ravenclaw in him or his own distaste for Quidditch, but either way he didn’t mind not having any more added responsibility. He felt he was maxed out on such things. Others though perhaps wouldn’t feel the same. His parents hadn’t even bothered sending him an owl about this, knowing already that he wasn’t as talented as they would like. 

Ventress, however, had been giving him a rather superior looking smirk for the better part of a week.

“Can barely cut it on the field, Kenobi?” She bared her teeth into what he’d come to know as some sort of sadistic grin.

“Congratulations on the title,” He’d said in response. He wasn’t looking to pick a fight, however… “I’m sure there’s no one better to offer the warm and welcoming teamwork that Slytherin’s so often lacking.”

Her teeth nashed together in a snarl, “See to it your team looks up from a textbook long enough to offer a real challenge.”

He wasn’t sure what had gotten her so enthusiastic about her new position. Ventress had always liked Quidditch because of the ability to knock people out without getting into trouble. In a way it’s what made her a fabulous beater. She’d never shown that same concern towards gaining the title of captain. He wondered what it would be that finally captured the true essence of her Slytherin ambition, besides the aim to tear everyone around her to the ground.

A loud and jarring bang sounded, startling all the occupants of Ravenclaw’s locker room. Obi-Wan barely reeled himself back from hurtling a jinx as he connected Eeth’s outstretched wand with the shit eating grin on their new captain’s face.

“A heart attack Koth!” Aayla shouted, “That’s what you’re gonna give us!”

“Ah come on,” Eeth lowered his wand, stowing it back into his Quidditch robes, “How else am I supposed to get your full, undivided attention?”

“Maybe some way that doesn’t make it seem like we’re about to get attacked,” Nadar suggested without even looking up from his potions essay.

They moved swiftly from the locker room. Ravenclaw’s tryouts were often quite boring, usually some sort of simple tests through each position, occasionally even a test of knowledge as that was their strength. This year it seemed quite the opposite with how Eeth was marching excitedly past Slytherin’s team.

“I’ll just get everything set up!” He announced cheerily, “Why don’t the rest of you get to know our prospective teammates?”

Obi-Wan really didn’t have much intention on making small talk. In fact, he considered just offering a hand to Koth as he hauled over the trunk himself, but the sight of someone stopped him cold.

“Rau?” Sure enough the 5th year prefect had seemingly taken a sudden interest in Quidditch and was standing alongside his fellow hopefuls.

“Hey Kenobi,” Fenn greeted with a wave as he walked over to meet him, “Got any last minute tips for a friend?” Obi-Wan wasn’t sure they were friends, but he didn’t bother correcting him or answering his question.

“Why are you here? You’ve never tried out before,” He asked. Rau just shrugged, though his eyes betrayed him slightly, drifting towards the audience.

“Well, it looks pretty fun,” He shrugged, but when it was clear Obi-Wan didn’t buy it, he added, “And I hear women are often impressed by a man in uniform,” He grinned. Obi-Wan squinted trying to follow his gaze into the audience. What girl was so worth it to join something because of a simple crush?

A flick of blonde caught his attention. Satine.

She waved as if knowing she was being scrutinized and Rau waved back much to Obi-Wan’s sudden feeling of horror. He tried to swallow down the green feeling rising slowly in his chest. Perhaps, he’d misunderstood.

“Look I know it’s probably awkward for you. You being best friends and all,” Rau scratched the back of his head, “but Satine’s hot,” Rau shrugged, “I thought maybe you were dating her after all, like the rumors said, but then you said it yourself, you’re just friends,” He laughed, though Obi-Wan was hard pressed to hear it past the blood rushing through his ears.

“Why are you interested in her anyways?” He heard himself say a little more aggressively than he should have and Rau tilted his head, scrutinizing him.

“Are you- Do you like her?” He asked and Obi-Wan shook his head in panic.

“No, of course not!” Eeth decided at that moment to blow the whistle, calling everyone back to the center, but Rau got one last word in.

“No need to worry mate, I’m not interested in breaking her heart,” He patted Obi-Wan on the shoulder before moving to follow the crowd. Obi-Wan was frozen for another moment, heart beating too fast, green gnawing on his insides.

Rau was talking about breaking her heart as if it had already been won. A glance up to the stands revealed Satine once again and he frowned. Satine had always had a distaste for Quidditch, but she was here to watch the tryouts. Could it be that she was here to see Rau’s performance? Would she be won over if he managed to perform admirably? It went against everything he knew about Satine, but sometimes she did seem like a box of puzzles- wonderful, if not occasionally frustrating. Perhaps, he didn’t know everything about her after all.

“Kenobi!” He was shaken from his thoughts by an annoyed looking Koth, “What’s got you all petrified? Get over here so we can start!”

He lined up, bad luck had him looking directly in Rau’s direction and it just made it harder to focus than it should on what Eeth was saying, even if it was just a lot of fluff.

They ran the seeker test first. Koth had hidden a bunch of rocks around the arena. They gave off an unnatural shine and you had to find 5 to be considered. Next was the beaters, they were to hit bludger sized balls into a stack of bottles and would be judged on accuracy. He’d gotten the idea from muggles apparently and if he was less likely to blow his top on a certain unsuspecting 5th year for some reason, he’d be much more interested. There was no need for a new Keeper as they already had himself and Nahdar, so they moved on to the Chasers.

Obi-Wan got into position, hovering in front of the golden rings at the end of the field. Evidently, Koth couldn’t think of anything better to test a Chaser’s skills than by scoring. Either way his job was quite simple. Block the hoops, prevent them from scoring. The first few students to try were younger, struggling to stay on their brooms and throw the ball, but one of them had been smart enough to attempt a fake out, which would be noted by their Captain as potential. The next few students had gotten good at flying and managed to score a few goals on him using quick wit and strategy. The air seemed to change, however, when Fenn Rau fell into position in front of him.

“Don’t go easy on me Kenobi,” Rau winked, “I’ve got to make a good impression,” He should have been talking about the try outs, but Obi-Wan caught his glance into the audience and he bristled. No, he certainly wouldn’t be going easy on Rau.

It was a bit of a blur. Rau tried to score, but Obi-Wan was always there to block his shots. Rau had clearly been practicing and studying strategies because loathe Obi-Wan to admit it, he had the skills. Obi-Wan, however, had 5 years of practice under his belt and a best friend who would constantly feed him tips. He used everything he had to make sure Rau never got a single point out of him and after time was up Obi-Wan had his teeth gritted, head throbbing a bit from a few furious headbutts, and not quite enough air in his lungs. Victory tasted sweet though as Rau, looking shocked at his defeat flew down to make way for the next contender.

When he landed, he stumbled just slightly before straightening up. He’d never felt so accomplished after running drills, or even during a game. His exhaustion was worth it to save Satine from the plight of having her heart stolen by some wannabe jock.

“Alright, I’ve got the results!” Koth announced and Obi-Wan let his attention fall. His eyes caught the glimmer of Satine’s hair. It was a unique shade he’d always thought, so light and airy, like sunshine. His brain rather unhelpfully provided that it was rather soft when it brushed his skin on occasion and how it would probably feel so nice to tuck behind her ear when it fell into her eyes.

“And our back up chasers will be,” Koth was continuing, but it didn’t matter. Obi-Wan had done his part and sealed the fate of the 5th year prefect, “and Fenn Rau!” Obi-Wan’s head snapped to look at a very surprised looking Rau. He cheered alongside his new fellow teammates. He grinned up at the bleachers once more while raising a fist and Obi-Wan’s grip on his broom threatened to snap the poor thing in half. He was hardly concerned about such material possessions when he imagined Fenn Rau brushing Satine’s hair back after a Quidditch game. He turned slowly, letting his teammates pass by him until he was standing next to Eeth Koth, the last two Ravenclaws on the field.

“You picked Rau?” He asked, trying to capture some of the fake politeness he had become rather masterful of, “He couldn’t even score a point.”

“Yeah, he couldn’t,” Koth agreed, “But only because he pushed you to your limit! I’ve never seen you play so spectacularly! Had to have that kind of motivation on the team,” Obi-Wan nearly dropped his broom, dumbfounded.

“You let him on so what? He could be the team pet?” Obi-Wan spat and Eeth looked at him strangely.

“Certainly you saw that he knows what he’s doing. He’s got good tactics and a good head on his shoulders,” He looked at Obi-Wan pointedly, “I’m sure you could learn a thing or two from him. I’m here to see potential and thanks to you, I found possibly one of our best future Chasers right here!”

Obi-Wan didn’t have it in him to return any such gratitude.

***

Dear Mum,

Fine, I’m breaking the ice and writing to you. Obi-Wan says it’s rude that I still haven’t responded to your letter about not coming to Parent’s Day and he rarely lets up on this sort of thing. It’s like he’s been programmed to act like an eighty year old man even though he’s like 16. I mean, you’ve seen him. He tucks his shirts way too tight to be comfortable. Anyway, I guess he is right in a way, because I did have good news that I wanted to share with you: I got a new broom! Not just any broom either, but a Firebolt Supreme! And it flies SOOOOOOOOOOO fast and high! Before you ask, the Kenobi’s got it for me after Parent’s Day (they filled in when SOMEONE couldn’t make it), because they were pretty pressed that I was still using the school’s brooms.

Not that I NEED the edge, but it definitely feels like I’m no longer playing with a hand tied behind my back. It’s crazy how they make brooms that fly differently. I wonder if it’s different from cars that move faster? I didn’t realize magic was so complicated, but apparently, magical engineers do exist.

Also, Rex made the team too! He’s been pretty quiet about it. I guess he’s just trying to let it all sink in. I know I was pretty amazed when I made the team too. He’s just going to be a backup though, but Cody says that one day he’ll get to start! That’ll be fun, because I feel like Rex and I are a team within the team as it is. 

I haven’t just been hanging out with Rex these days though. I’ve been welcomed into the older, cool kids crew across all the houses. They say I’ve got a big personality to make up for what I lack in height, but I just say I’m due for a growth spurt. Patiently waiting for that to come still. 

I’m trying to distance myself between Padmé, the girl I used to like, because I don’t want her to get the wrong idea. Falling in love with me would be a big mistake and it’s already been proved as a theory! Some hypnotized witch snuck into the school during Parent’s Day tried to kill me. Obi-Wan stopped her before she could even get the chance and I didn’t even realize he’d have it in him to react like that! His parents blame Yoda for her sneaking in, which kind of makes sense since he runs the school. I’m not too worried about it, honestly, because I’m the Chosen One. I can’t die without doing all the things the prophecy says. THAT’S why I’m glad I’m keeping distance between me and Padmé. I don’t want her roped into all of that. Superheroes’ girlfriends are always used against them.

Before you worry too much, I’m totally fine! Everyone is running around like crazy trying to figure out how this even happened. They were bragging about all the security they set up, but I think they forget that Dooku (who is definitely behind this, let’s be real) used to work here for a really long time and probably knows his way around.

That’s about it on what’s been going on around here. School is school and Windu still isn’t a big fan of me, but even he can’t deny that I’m the best in his class. Obi-Wan says my marks are better than last year’s already and I should keep up whatever I’m doing. I try to tell him that heroes can’t fail, but he doesn’t really buy that as an answer. Write back when you can. I still love you!

~ Anakin

[marvellfashion]

— Before anyone say anything, yes, I know Remender wrote the AXIS/Uncanny Avengers 2 retcon, but he's also one of the writers that come to mind when I think of 2010s writers who understood how her powers should work. Heinberg too comes to mind.

— Remember, this is the character who flew and had clairvoyance when her power wasn't supposed to work like that at the time, forcing writers to come up with an excuse.

— 1. Probability powers come first, but don't work as they should. She just kept making impossible, not unlikely, things happen.

— 2. Witchcraft should've done the trick (allow her to make more magical things) just fine, but unsurprisingly, not everyone was on board with that so we got more contradictions.

— 3. Chaos magic does the trick, it includes probability manipulation as one of its features and also gives the finishing touches on their origin story. Chaos has probability, it explains her more magical feats (pulling a meteor out of bloody space sounds a lot more like magic than luck, fellas) and keeps the lucky girl powers. She's still a rookie compared to more experienced witches, but the world of witchcraft can be further explored in future stories. For now, the origin story feels more solid and it looks like almost if not everything is in (chaotic) order.

— 4. Bendis comes in like a wrecking ball, we get reality warping and he tries to make Wanda his tragic wet dream girl change how everything in this character's history happened, even going so far as to make Quicksilver the #1 ScarletVision shipper and accidently making Doctor Strange look dumb.

— 5. Heinberg says "please ignore Bendis" retcons the retcon. We go back to 1/2/3.

— 6. (I think) Bendis is a salty bitch could feel that his age was coming to an end and his power in Marvel Comics was fading. I mean, how could they let anyone but him take control of his tragic wet dream girl Scarlet Witch's comeback? Anyway, we get more of Dark Phoenix Saga wannabe cosmic chaos magic. This, however, doesn't work smoothly when you're familiar enough with both chaos magic and the phoenix force, but I understand why people might like it or wish it would be brought back.

— 7. Remender follows 1/2/3 in the first volume, but (I guess) the alleged mandate and the fact he was already leaving Marvel Comics made him jump the shark and not even try with the second one. At this point, things don't make a bit of sense with how things went in 1/2/3. Bloody Luminous!

— 8. Robinson is vaguey about all of that ^^^^, instead he chose to explore the world of witchcraft. By giving her a witch mother and making her a (would become one anyway) cradle witch, he accidently took away the appeal of Wanda learning witchcraft in order to achieve a better control of her mutant power, and unfortunately played into racist stereotypes. In general, he did a solid job in expanding the witch side while avoiding the questions we wanted and still want answered. Things still don't make sense.

— You see, fellas, the issue is: writers not bothering to learn about her, respecting her or valuing the concepts she introduced to the MU. Chaos magic? Chthon himself? K'lay? The missing pieces of Magik's origin story? Jonathan Drew? Morgan le Fay? Lore? Nexi Beings? Witchcraft and Chaos? The Witches' Road? Not valued. Not worthy. Contradicted. Forgotten and deleted from the current writer's mind. You can say this happens to everyone, but with Wanda it's every single time she shows up. That's how we are stuck with the High Evolutionary giving her magic potential (the Uncanny 2 version had the HE giving her and Luminous chaos magic) via genetic tempering, Chthon still being involved even if her current origin heavily contradicts the one she's born in Wundagore to Magda Eisenhardt, and everything that happened in her solo, all of it existing at the same time and contradicting each other/not blending well.

.

[movie-magic]

Loki: Every MCU Easter Egg In Episode 1

Loki has officially begun on Disney+, and Tom Hiddleston comes bearing plenty of Marvel Easter eggs in the premiere episode. Here's what we found.

The premiere episode of Loki is burdened with glorious Marvel Easter eggs, from potential future villain teases to skulking Skrulls. Even before the considerable success enjoyed by WandaVision and Falcon & The Winter Soldier, MCU fans were eagerly anticipating Tom Hiddleston's return as the God of Mischief. Now blessed with his own Disney+ solo series, Loki has all of time and space to bother, and the premiere wastes little time throwing Hiddleston from the Avengers' frying pan into the TVA's fire.

After using the Tesseract to escape The Avengers in Avengers: Endgame, Loki is swiftly picked up by the Time Variance Authority - a seemingly omniscient organization overseeing the entirety of time and space. Evidently not ones to take prisoners, Loki's fate at the TVA looks grim, but Owen Wilson's Major Mobius intervenes, handing the silver-tongued variant a reprieve. In the opening episode, Mobius successfully digs to the root of Loki's dastardly ways, breaking him down to (presumably) build him back up, all with the aim of enlisting Loki's services as an ally to hunt down an especially vicious variant murdering the TVA's Minute Men.

Loki's premiere is predictably heavy with exposition, and relatively limited in scope, mostly taking place within the walls of TVA HQ. Nevertheless, Michael Waldron (creator) and Kate Herron (director) pepper the 50-minute installment with an array of references to the Marvel comics, MCU history callbacks, and hints of the multiverse madness to come. Here's every Easter egg we discovered in Loki's "Glorious Purpose."

The Avengers Intro Sequence:

Loki's introductory scene is somewhat of an Easter egg itself, retelling the famous Tesseract heist from Avengers: Endgame. Much of the footage here derives straight from the 2019 box office behemoth, meaning no other MCU stars filmed additional footage or recorded new dialogue especially for Loki. With that said, a few extra Tom Hiddleston moments are spliced into the existing footage to show events entirely from Loki's point of view. The villain's Steve Rogers "search and rescue" gag is zoomed-in, and there's a closer shot of Loki waving goodbye to Hulk in the elevator, as well as fresh reaction shots during the Stark scuffle in the lobby.

An Iron Man Callback:

After commandeering the Tesseract in New York, Loki finds himself falling from the sky above Mongolia's Gobi Desert, landing unceremoniously in the sand below, and this scene might trigger a sense of déjà vu for longtime MCU fans. In 2008's Iron Man, Tony Stark escapes capture by creating a rudimentary suit of hi-tech armor. Flying to safety, the genius-billionaire-playboy-philanthropist also lands roughly in a remote desert. There's a symbolic correlation in how Iron Man marked the beginning of the MCU, while Loki is now ushering in a whole new chapter, and both begin with their protagonists in matching predicaments. Both characters also crash while evading incarceration, though only Loki immediately finds himself in chains once again.

"Burdened With Glorious Purpose":

As a man who rarely shuts up, Loki has plenty of wry MCU catchphrases, and one of his most famous would be "I am burdened with glorious purpose" from The Avengers. Disney +'s Loki premiere leans heavily into the line's popularity, with Tom Hiddleston repeating the quote on several occasions throughout the episode, the phrase becoming less sinister with every utterance.

The TVA:

The addition of the TVA to MCU canon was confirmed ahead of time via Loki's trailer and, sure enough, the paradoxical pen-pushers play a prominent part in the premiere. Although their motivations and methods are somewhat altered from the source material (as well as their aesthetic, which now sits closer to The Umbrella Academy's Commission), the TVA hails directly from the Marvel comic books. They were introduced by a 1986 issue of Thor that featured several time-hopping agents, one of which picked a random Earthling up for jaywalking.

A Skrull At The TVA:

Given their propensity to shape-shift and assimilate the forms of other races, it's not surprising that a Skrull might be lurking around the TVA's front desk. One of the MCU's green aliens can be spotted in the background as Loki gets marched in, and though it's not clear why the Skrull is present, the distinct lack of guards would suggest they aren't a variant. A timely reminder that Secret Invasion is right around the corner.

The Time Twisters:

As you'd predict, Loki tries running away. With minimum effort, Hunter B-15 (played by Wunmi Mosaku) clicks a device, and Loki is pulled back to where he stood moments earlier, effectively making escape impossible. These time twisters appear to be standard issue at the TVA, and have a vaguely similar counterpart in the Marvel comics called the Retroactive Cannon. Far more lethal than Loki's little clickers, these devices would rewind a person completely until they were unwritten from history. Like The Algorithm in Tenet, but less confusing.

Life Model Decoys:

For someone who spent many, many years unaware he was actually a Frost Giant, Loki probably shouldn't be shocked that some people don't realize they're secretly robots. Heading through the TVA's airport scanner, Loki passes the test with flying colors, though he remains perplexed by the idea someone could be unknowingly cybernetic, Loki's line is a nod to Life Model Decoys, which have appeared in both the Marvel comics, and Agents of SHIELD. These lifelike androids can mimic mankind so perfectly, the LMD itself isn't always certain of the truth.

Secret Wars?:

Whether you've accidentally arrived late for work, or just escaped a group of costumed vigilantes by seizing a glowing blue cube from the beginning of time, being labeled as a variant is confusing stuff. Luckily, the TVA has put together a short animation to fill quantum criminals in on the basics. The helpful Miss Minutes finally provides an explanation of the MCU multiverse, revealing how, long ago, separate timelines fought an inter-dimensional war for supremacy that almost resulted in total annihilation. Since then, the TVA has strictly maintained one single reality - the Sacred Timeline *echoes*. The history lesson bears some similarity to 2015's Secret Wars comic event, in which conflicting universes came together in Battleworld (the setting of the original Secret Wars), and attempts were made to streamline Marvel's sandbox.

The Time-Keepers:

The TVA's infomercial also confirms the organization are led by three Time-Keepers, who oversee the combined reality and dictate the proper flow of history. This big-faced trio were first introduced in the late 1970s, created from the sole remaining survivor of the previous universe's destruction. The mysterious overlords performed much the same function in the comics as they do in Loki, and possessed virtually complete mastery over time.

Kree And Nova's Attack On Titan:

As the animated exposition rumbles on, Miss Minutes (voiced by Tara Strong) uses "starting an uprising" as an example of something the TVA might potentially frown upon. The corresponding image shows two armies clashing, with the blue folk on the left appearing to be Kree, and the force on the right possibly the Nova Corps. Based on the spiky ruins in the background, the battle is taking place on Thanos' home planet of Titan. In Guardians of the Galaxy, Ronan confirmed the Kree and Nova Corps were at war for 1000 years - was the TVA involved somehow?

Nexus Events:

This week's lesson from Miss Minutes explains how stepping off one's designated path can create a "Nexus event," and spiral out of control to spawn countless alternate timelines that trigger another war. This word has cropped up several times in the MCU, first as an internet facility in Oslo (Avengers: Age of Ultron), and then as an antidepressant drug during one of WandaVision's fake commercials. The latter was most likely a reference to the Nexus of All Realities from the Marvel comics, which is essentially a gateway between every possible timeline. The TVA's Nexus events could take their name from the very same source.

The Timeline Diagram:

Throughout Loki's Disney+ debut, the TVA repeatedly use diagrams of a single flowing timeline with branches shooting off to represent unwanted deviations. MCU fans might recognize this from Avengers: Endgame, where the Ancient One drew something extremely similar while explaining the consequences of time travel to Bruce Banner. Perhaps Ms. One has visited the TVA herself once or twice?

Devil In The Church:

MEPHISTO. There, we said it. When Mobius asks a young girl who committed time crimes in 16th century France and the child points to a stained glass window depicting the Devil, Loki knew exactly what it was doing. WandaVision dropped several hints that Marvel's own Satan would appear, all of which proved fruitless, and Loki seems to be heading down the same hellish vein. Alas, there could be a simpler explanation. Mobius claims to be chasing an alternate version of Loki, and it's highly likely the child has mistaken the God of Mischief's famous horned helmet for the demonic horns of Lucifer.

Ravonna Renslayer:

Though her name isn't mentioned in Loki's premiere, Gugu MBatha-Raw's TVA judge is actually Ravonna Renslayer, who made her debut in a 1965 Avengers issue. In the comics, Renslayer is a human from the far future, most often a villainous figure associated with Kang the Conqueror. She certainly isn't a legal official sat behind a desk. One would imagine Marvel Studios has something more interesting in store for Renslayer further down the line.

Explaining Endgame:

During his TVA interrogation, Loki quite rightly points out that it was not he who meddled with the timeline. T'was those pesky Avengers who penetrated the Quantum Realm and disrupted the natural course of events in the aftermath of the Battle of New York; Loki merely picked up the Tesseract that fell at his feet. Unfortunately, this excuse falls on deaf ears, as Gugu MBatha-Raw confirms the Avengers' ambitious time heist was entirely sanctioned by the Time-Keepers. This exchange more or less clears up every single timeline wrinkle in the MCU, including Steve Rogers' reunion with Peggy, and Gamora from the past staying in the present. It's not altering time that irks the TVA; it's altering time in a manner the Time-Keepers haven't permitted.

Loki's "Wooing":

After Owen Wilson saves Loki from being "reset," the pair sit down for a more friendly conversation, but when Loki warns Mobius that cooperation isn't an option, the TVA officer retorts with, "even when you're wooing someone powerful you intend to betray?" Loki has betrayed a fair few people during his time, and Mobius' accusation could easily apply to Odin or Thor. Most likely, however, Mobius is alluding to Thanos here - a powerful figure Loki tried buttering up with intent to usurp him once the universe was brought to its knees.

Josta:

While not strictly a Marvel reference, it's worth noting that Mobius is a big fan of an ice cold Josta. Viewers of a certain age might not recognize this soda brand, but Josta is a genuine Pepsi product that was available in the late 1990s before being discontinued. An early variety of energy drink, there's evidently a few perks to hunting down timeline criminals. In Mobius' case, this includes sugary contraband.

Loki's Greatest Hits:

In a twisted version of It's A Wonderful Life, Mobius tries to change Loki by examining his choices in the past, present and future. Unlike the jaunty 1946 holiday classic, Mobius has access to a handy hi-tech screen which displays Loki's "greatest hits." The footage begins with the God of Mischief's defeat and arrest in 2012's The Avengers - perhaps not an entry Loki himself would've picked for the highlight reel. The screen next switches to Phil Coulson's death (which Loki definitely would pick), before moving on to images of civilian deaths from the Battle of New York, the gala eyeball removal scene, and the dictator speech, all from The Avengers.

D.B. Cooper:

More an Easter egg from real-world history than Marvel lore, Loki reveals the truth about D.B. Cooper - it was Agatha Loki all along! In 1971, an as-yet-identified man boarded a Boeing 727, held the aircraft ransom for $200,000, then parachuted out with the cash. Mobius' dive into Loki's past reveals that, thanks to a lost bet with Thor, the God of Mischief descended from Asgard to pull the plane heist himself as some kind of stunt. From Loki's hairstyle matching the real D.B. Cooper artist's impression to the smattering of bank notes left behind, there's an impressive attention to detail in this scene.

Infinity Stones In The Desk:

The Infinity Stones... Thanos would give his own daughter just for one. Entire worlds brought to their knees by their power. Humans turned into Gods at the merest touch. Gary from the TVA's HR department using one as a paperweight. Threatening Casey with a fishy demise, Loki finally gets his hands back on the Tesseract, only to discover even Infinity Stones are useless within the TVA's jurisdiction. To Loki's immense surprise, Casey's desk draw is chock-full of discarded Infinity Stones, most either of the Time or Reality variety (no surprises there). The scene essentially confirms that the power of these fabled jewels has led to more than a few timeline variant incidents over the years, but perhaps also undermines the once-unstoppable power of the Infinity Stones. Well, the Infinity Saga is over.

A 3rd Millennium Kang Hint?:

In its final scene, the Loki premiere might just be hinting at the future villain of Ant-Man & The Wasp: Quantumania. The MCU will soon introduce Kang the Conqueror, a major comic book baddie played by Jonathan Majors, and "Glorious Purpose" could represent the first step toward his arrival. Called out to 19th century Oklahoma, TVA agents find a piece of technology hailing from the 3rd millennium. Though it might be a coincidence, Kang hails from the 31st century, and is known for using advanced tech in his dominion of the timeline. The mysterious hooded figure is more likely a Loki variant than Kang himself, but since Ant-Man & The Wasp: Quantumania and Loki both deal in temporal themes, it wouldn't be strange for the Kang foundations to be laid on Disney+.

- Screen Rant

Loki releases new episodes every Wednesday on Disney+.

[mcrmadness]

I guess it’s time to continue the drawings. Now I just need to decide if I want to start with the markers, or with the pencils :D

Latter will be easier tho. With markers I’ve never tried doing anything this “serious” before, I’ve only done comics etc. but not anything that is close to photorealism so it will be extremely interesting. Fortunately there’s something I can do with the white gelpens if I fuck up but it’s still different than erasing pencil marks.

And I still don’t really know how to use those. I mean, I have tried doing some test sketches with the markers but I still don’t really... feel the technique in my hands, you know? With pencils I know what I’m doing. With markers I don’t because this is the first time I’m gonna try drawing something like this and it’s different than just coloring simple stuff in with comics. There’s one comic I made completely with the promarkers which is why the comic is in black&white and that was lots of fun, but I was only doing some basic shadows, not very detailed shadows.

There’s also this that I’m not sure what to do with the pencil marks with the marker one. I need to erase them from the lighter areas at least but I guess it’s okay to leave them where there’s lots of black as it won’t be visible from underneath. With comics I always erase everything but like I said, this is different now. Which is why I’m so excited. I have a clear image in my head of how I WISH it’s gonna look like but I basically lack the “making of” video between sketch and the finished version because, like I said, I’ve never drawing something like this before with markers :D

In a way I enjoy the pencil drawing process so much I can’t wait to get to that one. So. Idk, why can’t I choose :DDD Basically the pencil drawing would be safer call tho because I’m having a bit of a headache - AGAIN - and altho Promarkers don’t smell as strong as some other markers, they still have a bit of a scent to them and in this state it could easily trigger migraine if this isn’t one already. So, I guess pencil drawing it is, then. Maybe. (In a way I want to film that too and make a timelapse video but I still have very bad setup here for filming but I tried that already with the first sketches and I think it might be okay. With sketches it just was kinda waste of time because I didn’t even end up using THOSE sketches but drew a new one, and fixed the other existing one, last night.)