#black rose arc continues to be the most confusing lmao

[talesofsymphoniac]

So I may have kinda forgotten to be thinking about the Shadow Girls a little bit. But I'm back on that because MONKEYS and ROBOTS

Okay so. It seems like Mikage is generally thought of as a foil for Utena (the Utena of the previous cycle perhaps?) but I actually think he has more parallels with Anthy.

The Shadow Girls have a couple different plays about a monkey-catching robot, and in one of them the robot is pretty explicitly a Mikage parallel (Tokiko tells the robot it pains her to see him this way*, Mikage being described as a human computer)

(*Tokiko is an Utena parallel and this whole arc Utena has been the one responding to the Shadow Plays)

And in a later Shadow Play, the monkey is described as "hiding behind a girl's face," and the robot captures her and takes her back to the alien spaceship, which returns to Akio's dick tower.

Chu-chu is a monkey, and if you go by the logic that he represents Anthy, that would double down on the idea that Anthy is the monkey that the robot is meant to catch. But the second shadow play happens after Mikage is out of the picture, in a filler episode between the black rose arc and the beginning of the apocalypse arc, so who is the robot kidnapping Anthy to bring her home?

Well. Robots don't age. Robots don't make mistakes. Robots have no feelings. Etc etc. Who else in the show is like that? (Or at least, who thinks of themselves like that-- a living corpse. A doll with no emotions of her own?)

Anthy's been ordered to capture herself, y'know?

Actually Anthy's role in the whole Mikage-Tokiko-Mamiya triangle is weird. She's like Mamiya in that she's sort of an object of other people's desires, this representation of forcing something to be eternal even if it suffers for it. And Mamiya is the one she impersonates, rather than Tokiko which might have been a little more straightforward. But I've also just explained why I think she's like Mikage too.

To be honest I don't think there's a one to one parallel going on here, but if there was, I think it's more useful to look at Mikage and Mamiya as representative of two aspects of Anthy. Mamiya is the Princess-- objectified, possessed, worried about. Mikage is the Witch-- manipulating and manipulated by Akio, wants to claim power over eternity, a phantom, robotic and emotionless.

And it kinda makes sense, as Mikage and Mamiya are kind of a unit in the black rose arc, with Mikage being manipulated by the idea of Mamiya (who is actually Anthy the whole time, to really get the metaphor tangled up)

And of course Tokiko-- the Utena analogue-- is the only one of the three who actually gets out.

[chrysalispen]

EPILOGUE. of truths sunk too deep for war

it’s done. now i take some time to finish some one-shots and plot out the next arc (which will take us through ARR, possibly to 2.55, though i am pondering making the CT raids its own separate multichapter fic because it’s so much on its own...) anyway, thank you all for reading ;A; i hope you enjoyed it and i look forward to starting on the next part! 

... though i think... maybe not today LMAO i need some sleep

AO3 Link HERE

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(||Feel||))

Aurelia sank into darkness so deep and vast that time had no meaning. It might have been minutes, hours, days of wandering aimlessly, set adrift in a fathomless ocean stretching malms past any known horizon.

And as she drifted, she dreamt.

Snatches of memory caught at her mind’s eye like errant flotsam curling in eddies about her soul.

She saw herself at a dying man’s bedside, a Roegadyn woman weeping inconsolably while watching her kiss him goodbye, unable to save him.

She saw the parting of clouds as black as pitch as Dalamud descended over the fields of Carteneau, a terrible secret still locked within its flaming belly.

She saw her adolescent self curled upon the carpeted steps of a cold marble staircase in the middle of one of Garlemald's eponymous blizzards: shivering beneath a coverlet she'd dragged from the bed hastily made for her, trying to weep as quietly as she could while her new guardians fought over what they felt should become of her.

She watched broken shards plummet to the earth from the heavens, bathed in brilliant fire. An impression of white and gold, sobbing both in rage and in heartbroken agony. Tears seeped into the fabric wrapped about her fading form like rainwater into soil.

(don’t cry. don’t cry, I’ll save you---)

The trail of fire twisted this way and that before it faded into the background of an intricate vine pattern she recognized. Green brocade wallpaper imported from Thavnair. This was a memory from her early childhood.

Aurelia stood silent in her parents’ bedchamber as if she were a neutral onlooker rather than reliving her own memory. L'haiya’s strong hands were braced firmly upon the shoulders of her younger self, expression flat and stoic and sunset-colored eyes dark with grief. They fell upon the dying woman who lay in the bed: a great four-poster carved from Eorzean mahogany.

The figure weeping over that wasted frame, clinging to a pale and withered hand, was likewise one she knew. Julian rem Laskaris, begging his wife not to die and leave him alone. Promising he’d save her if only she’d try to stay with him a little longer.

If only.

If only-

As soon as she thought about her mother the scene was gone entirely. She was, instead, lying in the grass in the middle of a garden she recognized by scent if not sight. Sunlit warmth spread like a gentle embrace over her skin and into her bones, and dappled patterns like leaves rustling in a breeze beneath the summer sun cast their soft furred impressions behind her eyelids.

A burbling noise caught her ears and she listened for a few confused moments before she realized what it was. The fountain, she thought. Of course, that sound was the little fountain with the Doman koi in it. Father had had it installed in the garden as a conversation piece for visiting officers. It sat among the beds of lavender Elle had helped her plant when they’d pulled out the weeds. Althyk lavender, a rare variety and the only kind that would grow in a place as arid as--

Gyr Abania.

Something high and yearning rose in her. Home. She was home.

A cool, dry breeze fluttered in small wisps through golden forelocks that had escaped their confines. Wrapped snugly in her favorite grass-green pelisse, feet bare beneath her muslins, Aurelia sighed. Her fingers flexed, curled into a handful of soft ryegrass, and as she opened her eyes she saw overhead the strangely shaped leaves and heavy twined branches of a persimmon tree. Nearby was the old zelkova that framed the artfully arched parlor windows that faced the Menagerie promenade.

She was propped head and shoulders in someone’s lap. She could feel slim fingers carding gently through her hair and she could smell jasmine and tea rose, a mild and gentle lady’s sachet.

Her breath caught in her throat. That was a scent she knew.

When she opened her eyes to look upon her companion, the face smiling back was not L’haiya’s. She took in a wealth of long auburn curls, soft brows and fair skin, the delicate pearlescent oval in the center of the forehead that marked the woman as a pureblooded Garlean. Dark blue eyes, the exact same shade she saw every time she looked in a mirror.

Aurelia only barely remembered this face. She had been so young, and so many long years had passed that it was one she could now recall with true clarity only from paintings and daguerreotypes. But she knew it well enough to speak a name.

“Mama?”

The word was spoken in a voice that sounded hoarse, almost rusty, as though it had languished from long years of disuse. Vittora cen Remianus only smiled, tracing a small path from her daughter’s hairline to the upper rim of her third eye with the edge of her thumb.

“Hello, sunshine,” her mother said. “It’s been a very long time.”

Why are you here?

Misgiving swept over her in a small flood. Her mother had never seen their house in Ala Mhigo. After Vittora’s passing, there had been a small memorial in which her ashes had been spread over the Estersands. That was several months before Aurelia’s father had put in his transfer request to the XIVth Legion.

She certainly shouldn’t be in their garden.

...Where am I?

Aurelia had to know. “Am... I’m not dead, am I?”

“No, of course not.” Vittora was still smiling, but it had taken on a pensive cast, and she seemed to be looking at something Aurelia could not see. “Not dead. You’re just very deeply asleep. Come and see for yourself.”

Her limbs seemed to weigh several tonzes apiece; merely bracing her elbows against the grass felt like a heroic effort, but after a great deal of strain she managed it well enough to sit up.

She followed her mother’s gaze and her eyes went wide.

The boundaries of the garden she remembered began to fragment at the edge of the fountain, in segments of empty space that were uncannily symmetrical. A few years ago during one of her summer lectures, Aurelia had had the opportunity to watch students at the Imperial Magitek Academy researching Allagan tomestones from excavations further afield. She remembered the same sense of unease at the sight of a screen showing the compilation process.

It had looked very much the same as this. Empty blocks where the tomestone data was corrupted or truncated. Or missing.

Beyond the garden lay… nothing, as far as the eye could see. Shimmering lines of aether lapped at the edges of this facsimile, borders receding and advancing in turns like waves upon an ocean shore moving with a great and ancient tide beyond her understanding.

“Where is this?” she asked, in a small voice.

“A place that you will not see for, I hope, many more years to come.” A pale, slender hand folded over Aurelia’s, and a mote of light caught Vittora’s wedding band as she squeezed. For the first moment since she had laid eyes upon her, Aurelia realized how weightless her mother’s touch felt. Indistinct. “Our souls return here at the end of our mortal coil. They are drawn to the Lifestream and swept away on its currents.”

The edges of the mirage garden trembled with Aurelia’s agitation. She bit her lip.

“Then why did you bring me here?”

“Me?” Her mother seemed genuinely surprised. “Oh, sunshine. I didn’t bring you here. You brought yourself.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Most mortals will never see the aetherial sea while they live. A small number may take to its currents only by way of forbidden magicks, and not without considerable peril to body and soul.”

A chill ran down her spine. With an abrupt swish of her skirts, she regained her feet and reached the edge of the tableaux in three long strides. At the lip of the fountain, she held her fingers beneath the running water.

There was no pressure and neither warmth nor chill. Her hand came away just as dry as it had been before.

“But you are different from most,” her mother continued. “Your soul may travel here and can even resist the Lifestream’s call for a time. Because of your gift.”

((Hear. Feel. Think.))

“My gift,” Aurelia echoed. “Is that- do you mean the conjury?”

“Yes and no, although this selfsame gift does allow you to harness and manipulate aether. You should not be able to do that, either. And yet here you are.”

“But why all of this now? Why me?”

“Why not you? Our star holds many mysteries. Some are readily explained and still others have yet to be unraveled, and this may well be one of the latter.” Vittora’s hands folded primly at her waist as she approached her daughter’s side; between thumb and index finger she spun an errant blossom. The petals fluttered with each rotation back and forth. “But I doubt you came to ask for answers I don’t have.”

Aurelia opened her mouth, then shut it, her brows knotted in hapless frustration.

“I don’t,” she wrapped her arms about herself, cupping her elbows in her hands and staring out over the star-shimmer shore, “I don’t know that any of it matters, Mama.”

“Why not?”

“I tried to set out and make my own path. Uncle and Aunt wanted me to make a match with a family of their choosing.”

“Many a soul has chafed beneath the weight of others’ expectations,” Vittora said. “You are far from the first scion of the imperial aristocracy to have put off a betrothal until they felt themselves ready to commit to a marriage, and I sincerely doubt you will be the last.”

“It was never a matter of readiness. I would have been perfectly happy finishing my schooling and leaving the capitol for good.”

“I see.”

“ ‘His Radiance’s Will’ can go hang. It would have done no harm for Uncle to allow me to choose for myself or not at all.”

Vittora’s brows raised. “Something tells me that Janus would not see the matter thus.”

“He didn’t. But he and Aunt could not very well prevent me from serving out my enlistment. I thought it would give me that much more time to decide.” She made a helpless gesture at the wide emptiness of the sea. “Instead, I lost everything.”

“Endings are as much a part of the vagaries of life as aught else, Aurelia. Your father rejected that truth. I would not see you do the same.”

Aurelia did not answer for a long time. Her mother moved closer, and with her drifted the watery, delicate scent of her sachet.

“Mama, I’m worried.”

“Why?”

She didn’t have enough left in her to dissemble. “Because I don’t know if any of the choices I've made have been good ones.”

“Sometimes there is no good choice, sunshine. Sometimes there are only choices.” Vittora bowed her head. The expression she wore was something like sadness. “But be they for weal or woe, the one thing you cannot do is be so afraid of making a bad choice that you do not let yourself make any decisions at all.”

The rebuke was gentle but pointed.

“If I were stronger then perhaps I would not concern myself so much with the outcome.”

“You are strong. I remember the girl you once were. And I think you are far stronger than you have been given cause to believe. You will make the most of what you have been given- as our people have ever done in hard times.” A pale hand patted her cheek. “It could be that you were meant to come to Eorzea all along.”

“Perhaps. But I think I could just as easily have elected to follow Uncle Janus and Aunt Marcella’s wishes, then called it destiny if the outcome were personally beneficial,” Aurelia said. “Life is what we make of it.”

Vittora laughed, the sound of it somewhat dry. “That rather sounds like something a certain Dalmascan would say.”

“What do you believe, Mama?” Aurelia watched the lavender blossom spin out of her mother’s fingers and float in lazy drifts to the grass. “Do you believe in destiny?”

“That is a difficult question to answer. But I think- I hope- that it is both. And in any case, I think a lack of belief in a higher power makes your capacity for kindness all the more precious. Please, sunshine, don’t ever lose that compassion.”

“Mama, I became a chirurgeon to help others. I should hope that compassion is the least virtue to which I could lay a claim.” She couldn’t take her eyes off the scattered petals of the blossom. “...But you have my word.”

The shade released a long, soft sigh, something that sounded very much like satisfaction..

Before her eyes, the outline of that slim, graceful figure began to warp into something that reminded her of heatwaves upon stone in summer, the facial features becoming slowly and steadily translucent. Aurelia’s heart lodged in her throat.

“No,” she said. She thought she had cried it aloud, but sound did not carry in a place like this. “No. You can’t go yet.”

“I must.”

“There’s so much more I want to talk to you about. Please.”

“You don’t belong here.”

“But-”

“No, sunshine. Your place is with the living. Go back to them.” Vittora’s gentle smile returned, and she reached up to tuck a stray curl behind her daughter’s ear. “You are very young yet and your future is still uncharted. It waits only for your pen to fill its pages. Take the new life you have been granted, and live it.”

The steady burble of the fountain had ceased. Flowers and trees and stone all began to disintegrate, leaving in their wake only the otherworldly glow of shining white-capped waves.

Her mother’s transparent hand fell to her side, and Aurelia felt its withdrawal as the faintest whisper of a breeze against her cheek as Vittora cen Remianus stepped forward into the line of stardust foam that surged onto the shore. Aether washed around her ankles and lapped at the hem of her skirts but she did not appear to mind or even notice as she took another step, and then another, and another.

The cascade of bright auburn curls Aurelia recalled so well turned to sepia before fading entirely as that lonely figure drew farther and farther away and disappeared, leaving her daughter to linger upon the edge of mortal consciousness.

Leaving her alone again just as she had done all those years ago. Aurelia’s eyes burned.

“Remember me,” the shade of her mother said as it walked out into the aetherial sea, drawn back into its vast currents. “Remember me, and I will always be with you.”

No, she thought. No, you can’t just leave me alone like this-

She made to step into the sea, to follow- and was soundly denied. A deep, resonant chime echoed from somewhere within the living currents of her own soul as her feet defied her mind’s order to move.

An unknown and unseen Something was pulling her back.

I can’t-

(Remember.)

There were words. Words that

||Hear. Feel||

echoed like a mantra as her eyelids, suddenly heavy as lodestones, fell shut once more.

(Remember-)

=

She could hear birds.

For a long moment, she did not move. Her eyes shifted beneath the curtains of her lids, following the dapple-pattern of shifting leaves while she turned her attention to the nearby trilling. A warm breeze brushed her cheek like a mother’s touch, soft and soothing, and water burbled steadily from someplace not too distant, and she knew she lay upon something (a bed? a lap? She wasn’t certain) soft and yielding.

Mama, she thought, and opened her eyes.

There was no sign of her mother. She lay on a small infirmary bed barely larger than an army cot, tucked under a light blanket. Someone had taken the trouble to wash her and dress her in a plain hempen robe. Her gaze peered through the fine folds of a transparent cloth the likes of which she had not seen in so long that it took an embarrassing few moments to realize it was some sort of protective netting- probably, she thought, intended to keep out midges and chigoes. High overhead a canopy of leaves danced in the gentle wind, turning like troupes of tiny dancers upon their branches.

On the right side of her bed, she sensed a soft weight. Aurelia blinked slowly, once, twice, and the world came into focus as she looked down.

A small Miqo’te girl dozed with her head pillowed upon the edge of the mattress. Her short dark hair spilled over the blanket in an unruly mess, eyes shifting side to side beneath their lids, and one ear flickered in tiny erratic twitches even as her tail lay curled limp and unmoving on the grass. In that brief moment of silence, Aurelia heard a tiny snore escape her slack lips.

Despite the sorrowful ache that still lingered in her own chest, she smiled and carefully slid a hand from beneath the blanket to rest it upon Vahne’s shoulders.

“The conjurers said she’s not slept since we arrived here.”

The voice came from the infirmary bed next to her. Its occupant sat atop the mattress with her back propped up by a pile of pillows, a tome in one hand with her fingers marking the page. Her right arm was in a sling and, like her leg on the same side, it was encased in plaster. More pillows cushioned the woman’s heel, and like Aurelia she was clad very simply in a hempen robe. Her auburn hair had been cut short.

“She’ll be happy to see you up when she awakens,” Rhaya Wolndara said. “She’s been very worried about you. She was furious with me when she found out I’d sent you packing. Wouldn’t talk to me for the better part of a sennight.”

“I-”

The word came out as a croak. Without further prompting Rhaya set her book aside, reached for the tin cup and water pitcher on the small stool between them serving as a side table, and poured. Aurelia accepted it gratefully and took small sips, sloshing the water around her dry mouth before swallowing as Rhaya watched.

“Take your time. You’ve been asleep for the past two suns.”

“Where is this?”

“You don’t recognize your own guild?” Aurelia squinted through the netting and canvas and finally spied the huge old tree where she had conducted much of her training. As Rhaya had said, they were in the Stillglade Fane, abed in the infirmary area reserved for patients that were not in dire need of treatment. “The Wailers dragged us out of that ruin. Brought all of us here for treatment. You collapsed. From exhaustion, I suppose.”

“The last thing I remember was-” She paused, straining to recall. The taste of soot seemed to linger on her tongue. “...The fire. Did-”

“Sergeant Epocan told me what happened. One of the village Wailers - a Lieutenant Daye, I think he said - was able to sneak out and run to the Druthers for help. It was fortunate he did. Their commander set a brushfire from the creek embankment that spread very quickly, but the Wailers and some conjurers from Quarrymill were able to put the fires out. With the village’s help, of course.”

Aurelia watched a grimace flash across Rhaya’s face as the other woman shifted in her bedclothes.

“On that note,” she said, her voice curiously brisk, “I owe you an apology. ‘Tis like my captors and I would have died in that fire without your intervention.”

Sewell.

“Sewell didn’t make it, Rhaya.”

“I know,” she sighed. “I was told. He came through in the end, though, didn’t he? Poor man. To have come so far only to die like that...”

Aurelia stared down at the small, spindly shoulders under her hand.

“He wanted me to tell you he was sorry for everything that happened.” The ache in her chest intensified, crept up her throat. “I did try to save him.”

“Come now, I see those tears. You’re only one woman; you can’t bleeding well save the realm entire, you know,” Rhaya chided her, taking the emptied cup from her hands to set back upon the stool. “Not a soul could reasonably ask more of you. You helped run the Empire out of a village full of people who could well have turned on you the moment they found out what you were.”

“Sergeant Epocan told you about that?”

“Only because you had told him that I realized you were a Garlean. That was a very brave thing you did, you know. You took a big chance on all of them, revealing yourself like that.”

“I like to think that most of them would at least have the sense to see I was on their side. Although I imagine,” Aurelia said dryly, “that stealing a flash grenade and using it to incite them to riot didn’t hurt.”

“I’m sorry for my part in it. I shouldn’t have said those things to you- no, let me finish. I knew when those men fled that they’d be back, and at the time I… well. Your friend set me straight on a great deal.” She eyed the small girl. “And this one too. If she hadn’t run to you for help, I don’t know that I would be here now.”

“She’s a good girl.”

“She is. She still has some growing to do yet, but she is.” Rhaya’s smile faded. A pained expression tightened the corners of her mouth. “My youngest sister Kheni got herself mixed up with some bad sorts when Vahne was younger. The one sensible thing she did was to leave the girl with me. I never meant to raise children of my own, and it’s been bloody hard going it alone.”

“Sergeant Epocan tells me that Keeper families are often large,” Aurelia frowned. “Did you not have other siblings who could have helped you?”

“Aye. Two sisters and a brother, all younger than me. We weren’t on speaking terms.”

She did not miss that past-tense had. “You talk as if something happened to them.”

“They answered the Twin Adder’s call to fight the Empire last spring. My brother was cross with me when I didn’t do the same; I suppose he had grand notions of the Wolndara family fighting the Garleans in the same unit, or somesuch. Anyroad, I felt it were naught but folly to risk my life and leave Vahne without anyone to look after her, and I told him thus. And he- they,” Rhaya took a deep and visible breath, “they all three of them marched off to join the main force at Carteneau and - just like a lot of other folk - they never returned. Vahne is all I have left so I feel responsible for her safety. But… mayhap I have been a little too strict as her guardian. Just a little.”

Her gaze on Vahne’s slumbering form softened.

“I’m proud of her.”

"So am I.”

"Good." Aurelia lay her head back and shut her eyes again. She was still very tired. “I think I’ll let her be a little while longer.”

“I’ll call for one of the conjurers,” Rhaya said. “Rest. You still need it.”

She thought she nodded her response, but she wasn’t sure. The other woman’s words seemed to float into her ears and spin in small drifting circles, like lazy eddies of water, as she lapsed into another light doze.

This time her sleep was peaceful and dreamless.

~*~

27th Sun, Fifth Astral Moon, Year 1 of the Seventh Umbral Era

“Up!” the voice shouted. “Put your backs into it! Mind the bleedin' base!”

Summer was winding down, but something of it lingered still in the air. A flock of sparrows descended upon the nearby fence with a great flutter of wings, trilling beneath the afternoon sun’s warm and benevolent gaze, and Aurelia Laskaris listened in an absentminded way from her vantage point in a fallow field. She was watching the villagers' combined efforts to raise the walls of a new house. The ropes went taut as a section of wall lifted by ilms, ash planks and iron nails to be lashed in place as the joints met.

“Hoist!!” the voice shouted again, and among the ensuing calls to coordinate the teams, she could hear the steady clattering clamor of tools working the wood.

“You lot have made an art of this,” she said. At her side Frieda Miller let out a small cackle.

“We work quickly,” the weaver shrugged, gently jostling the infant girl in her arms. “It’s the neighborly thing to do. Though if you told me this time last year we’d be doing something like this outside the village...”

She trailed off, hesitation crossing her features, but Aurelia thought she knew what Frieda meant. The people of this small and secluded forest village seemed to have taken if not a kinder view of outsiders, at least a slightly warmer one. They had unknowingly harbored a Garlean for moons and when Aurelia’s countrymen had attacked she had sided with them against her own kind: something none of them would have expected. Not only that, the hamlet’s entire defense against imperial incursion had been spearheaded by a Keeper Miqo’te: a man whose people were so often jettisoned to the fringes of the Shroud, and treated with suspicion and disdain by many.

Their familiarity with him, and with Aurelia, had forced many people to re-examine their assumptions about their world, and while some still clung stubbornly to old grudges and commonly-held wisdoms, others had made friendly overtures one by one. For better or worse, change had come to Willowsbend, heralded by the fall of Dalamud, and it appeared to be here to stay.

Whatever they might think of her, or of the surrounding events, Aurelia could only hope that their attitudes towards their neighbors continued to soften.

“So,” Frieda continued, “you two are to leave on the morrow.”

“So I am.”

“Are you sure you don’t have any plans to stay here? The Guild could always take Trevantioux back instead.”

She smiled, a little ruefully.

“Hardly any need for a third wheel, now that he and Noline have called things off.”

“He seems to be taking it rather well.”

“Ah. Well enough, all things considered. I’m still sorry I couldn’t be there with you to help deliver Isa, but-”

“Oh, never you mind that, Aurelia! What you did gave me a safe place to bring her into the world and that’s just as important.” Frieda grinned. “At any rate, no harm would have been done, I can trust Trevantioux to do his work properly. The man might be a bit of a jackass and a fool in love besides, but he’s a good conjurer, and he’s earned his place in the village.”

“Then it seems to me that you’re in good hands.”

Despite her words, Aurelia couldn’t help the pang of sadness she felt.

It was likely she could have remained in Willowsbend did she wish it, but there had been Trevantioux to consider. The events of that fateful night had changed him. Ever since he had made the hard decision to break his betrothal, he had seemed a shell of his previous self, rendered nigh desolate by Noline’s infidelity. His work was all he had left- and he had been tending to the village under Ewain’s tutelage for four years.

As fond as she had become of Frieda and Hugh and all the others in her own short stay here, Aurelia couldn’t bring herself to take his home from him on top of everything else. Thus, it seemed trivial to contact E-Sumi-Yan and explain the situation - and even more so to formally request an end to her current assignment, seeing as there would now be no open position to fill. It was an olive branch, but one Trevantioux had accepted with a great deal of grace. These days there were no sour remarks about her origins or sullen glares when she went on rounds. He had even been the one to offer the village’s assistance in rebuilding the Wolndara homestead, something that had surprised everyone - not least of all Rhaya herself.

Maybe that was the most important part of the whole outcome. If someone as stubborn as Trevantioux could change his tune, it should be no hard task for the rest of them.

In Frieda’s arms, little Isa made a loud blatting noise and swatted at a stray lock of her mother’s hair- and was thwarted by the casual sidewise tilt of Frieda's chin. “Be that as it may, know that you’ll be missed by myself and the boys, at the very least. Do you promise to come and visit us when you can?”

Aurelia smiled. “You wouldn’t forgive me if I didn’t at least make the attempt.”

“I’ll make sure to have my best pies ready and waiting for you to take tea with me. Speaking of which,” Frieda said, “it looks like you’ve a friend coming up the hill.”

She followed the woman’s pointing finger and saw a willowy figure loping towards them across the empty field. The Miqo’te had grown a good two or three ilms over the season and showed no signs of stopping, but she was still more child than adolescent yet. She nigh vibrated with excitement, her tail lashing against her leg as she drew to a halt.

“Miss Aurelia, Shadow’s having her kittens!”

“Be well, Frieda.” She patted the woman’s shoulder. “Give Rauffe and the boys my love.”

“I will.”

At the foot of the incline, Vahne fidgeted, rocking from side to side as she waited for Aurelia to reach her. Some yalms distant, another section of heavy oak beams began to lift from the newly packed ground, and carpenters’ hammers continued to mark increments of time and progress in short beats.

“They’re moving very fast,” she said, smiling. “I daresay they’ll have your house finished in the next fortnight.”

Vahne nodded, in a vague sort of way - she supposed the particulars of housing construction didn’t much interest a young girl. That small face looked troubled despite the tranquility of the day and after a moment, she burst out,

“I don’t want you to go back to Gridania!”

“Vahne, darling, I must. It’s not up to you or me.”

“Can’t you just stay here? With me and Aunt Rhaya? We have plenty of space and since you two patched things up she'd be happy to-”

Aurelia sighed. She had been dreading this. “I can’t. It’s not that easy.”

“But I don’t understand why,” Vahne protested. “You could just leave the guild and go anywhere you chose if you wanted to, couldn’t you? You could become an adventurer! People do it all the time!”

There were a great many things that she thought she could have said in that moment. She could have lied, spun some bit of fiction she knew Vahne would accept. She could have attempted to tell the truth, to explain all of the sordid details and confluence of events that had brought her to Willowsbend, and hope that she might understand.

Instead, she reached for Vahne’s hand.

“Part of being an adult means having to make choices. Sometimes it means hard choices, even when you know it’s the right thing to do. Do you understand?” At the girl’s nod, she said, “Those choices don’t ever stop coming to your door. I would love to stay, Vahne, but I can’t. My choice to leave Willowsbend for good lets a man keep his home and it keeps the rest of you safe from the Garleans besides.”

“Safe from what? Those men are gone. You killed their leader and now-” Aurelia was slowly shaking her head, and Vahne’s lower lip began to tremble. “Please don’t go. You’re the first real friend I’ve ever had.”

“I will visit when I can, but life is taking me elsewhere. I can’t say when I’ll be back to stay,” she said gently. “It’s quite possible the answer is never.”

“I hate this! I hate saying goodbye. I feel like it’s all I’ve done my whole life.”

“It’s true that sometimes life feels like nothing but goodbyes, but sometimes in order to have a beginning you have to have an ending.” Vahne, to her credit, didn’t cry, but the hand around Aurelia’s felt almost crushing. “When I leave, I want you to do me a favor.”

“What kind of favor?”

“Visit Goody Miller when you can? She’ll be in need of a friend herself and now that the villagers know you and your aunt, I’m sure you’ll be able to make even more friends.”

Vahne didn’t look altogether convinced, but the nod she gave Aurelia was slow and solemn.

“In the meantime,” the Garlean righted her posture, her tone briskly cheerful, “let’s cheer up, shall we? Tomorrow hasn’t arrived just yet, after all. It is still today, with plenty of light left in it, and I believe you were saying something about your barn cat.”

The Miqo’te brightened; her rain-grey eyes seemed to come alive at the reminder.

“Oh, yes! Have you ever seen newborn kittens?”

“I’m afraid I haven’t, no.”

“Good! That means I get to show you your very first litter.” She squeezed Aurelia’s hand and began to tug her arm in the direction of the reconstructed barn, rather impatiently, in the way a girl half her age might have done. “She’s made her nest in the back of the chocobo pen.”

Feeling unexpectedly light-hearted for the first time in what felt like forever, Aurelia followed her young friend. The grass parted for their passing and concealed their steps as though they had never traveled through the field at all.

What the villagers built here wouldn’t replace Rhaya’s home nor the memories that had formed within its walls. No force in the world could turn back time to recover the things they had all lost, she thought. Not truly- and perhaps that was for the best. A new home blessed with companionship would provide ample space for new memories and the promise of new friends. It was a symbol of renewal as sure as any spring.

In short order the pair had retreated into the stable, itself still smelling of sap and fresh-cut hay, to bear witness to these small new lives. And as men rebuilt and the forest resumed its vigil, time turned its inexorable wheel into the cusp of a new Age.

[rassilon-imprimatur]

A Rag and a Bone

As some of you saw, I found one of my “lost” Doctor Who holy grails, Daniel O’Mahony’s A Rag and a Bone! I’d been hunting high and low for this piece of fiction because the idea of O’Mahony writing a Sabbath-centric story was too good. There was literally no information whatsoever online as to what the story was actually about, but I love O’Mahony’s writing and the idea of him tackling Sabbath seemed like a match made in hell.

Finally getting a hold of this story, I must say that calling it “a Sabbath story by Daniel O’Mahony” is incredibly disingenuous, and while I dissect this story and share it all with you, I have to be completely honest and say that I have never been more confused at such a short piece of fiction in my life. Delighted, mind, but very confused. 

This story was published in 2003′s Myth Makers Essentials, the famous fanzine’s special 40th anniversary celebration. Myth Makers has been rather a white whale of mine, most long out of print issues holding onto other holy grails, most notably Parkin’s Saldaamir and The School of Doom. 

This story is more than a Sabbath tale, being a celebration of Doctor Who’s history, the history of the humans who keep Doctor Who going, as well as a celebration of the 2003 BBC prose continuity that, for all intents and purposes, was the Doctor Who at the time alongside Big Finish’s 1999-2003 years.

It’s also written by one of the closest things Doctor Who has ever had to Clive Barker, meaning that it’s a very disturbing celebration. 

O’Mahony introduces his story with a discussion of what he considers one of Doctor Who’s essential elements: 

In O’Mahony’s view of the series, Doctor Who is about humanity. Human history, ingenuity, sacrifice. Without humanity, Doctor Who is nothing. It’s a much more grounded view on the series, and while I’m not sure I quite agree with it, it makes literally every Doctor Who story O’Mahony has written make a lot more sense. 

I go into the story’s eccentricities and references (SO MANY REFERENCES GUYS, I’M SO HAPPY) under the cut. Reminder that a) O’Mahony, while a beautiful writer, is a very brutal one; his whole brand is painting objective horror and worldly ugliness in the richest, wine-like prose ever, and it’s definitely not for everyone, and b) this story, like Bidmead’s wonderful With All Awry, is far less literal than it is figurative. The continuity of the time is a factor in the story, but it’s rather useless to try and squeeze it in anywhere, that’s not it’s point. 

A Rag and a Bone is an author’s thesis on the spirit of Doctor Who, as well as a simultaneous criticism and celebration of its state in 2003, all the while managing to use Sabbath in the manner he was intended, rarely seen outside of Lawrence Miles’ writing. 

I’m not doing every passage of the thing, just the meatier ones. Enjoy and watch me stretch my English degree! 

(Note, the story starts in first-person from Fitz’s POV, shifts to weird surreal mix of Fitz and O’Mahony himself, back to Fitz, and then ends with third person omniscient.)

The story opens up simply enough (which, given what appears to be going on, it’s really funny to say “simply”): 

Already, this story seems to be following the beats of The Adventuress of Henrietta Street, the idea that in the universe without Time Lords, the universe is free game and humanity (led by Sabbath) needs to step up. But, it’s also a meta commentary. The passage is vague as to what’s really going on, but I think the war/looming disaster is something very specific, that I’ll touch on later. 

1) The date. Lmao. What could that possibly be a reference to?

2) Sabbath frequently had agents and allies throughout his novels, and one of these two, the Angel Maker, is actually from Lloyd Rose’s Camera Obscura. I don’t know if that gives an idea of the placement, or just further shows O’Mahony’s “I’m playing with current continuity” schtick. 

3) “Miss Kapoor went through the inevitable ritual struggle with her ideological opposite [...] We watched the catfight from the bar balcony - Bollywood Queen of Sin versus the [Angel Maker]...” Perhaps a smirking jab at the rules or sterotypes of storytelling? Set certain characters against the idealogical opposites. Anji often went toe-to-toe with the ideologies and beliefs of people in her novels, far more than Fitz or the Doctor did, so I think that’s what this is a nod to, wrapped in the story’s theme of ritual and symbolism and framed as “the Doctor’s female companion must face Sabbath’s female companion in a duel!!!!!!!” 

4) “... a dog-faced parahuman whose name I missed. He was the softest spoken of us all, fresh from the plane of the First Time War, resplendent in Gallifreyan scarlet.” This is Wardog (or a contemporary of Wardog), originally from Alan Moore’s DWM Black Sun Trilogy, portraying the First Time War. He had been recontexualized into Cold Fusion/The Infinity Doctors’ canon in Lance Parkin’s Executive Action, published in 2001′s Walking in Eternity, making him an (admittedly tangential) interesting cog in the EDA’s history and continuity. 

1) First time reading this passage, I couldn’t decide if this was purely Fitz or O’Mahony inserting himself into the narrative... and then I realized it’s both. There are two major critical takes on the companions, and this is the first: the role of the companions in the series is to give the audience someone to relate to and, in some cases, live vicariously through. Enjoying the adventure, experiencing the sights, etc. This section is both Fitz Kreiner and Daniel O’Mahony, trying to make sense of what’s going, while the story is already giving us the implications that, despite trying to create a narrative of the Doctor’s condition, he is actually not real. 

2) Marvel at Fitz dragging himself in every possible way. Maybe a reference to how the novels (since the VNAs) really hadn’t had any qualms with pushing the flaws and imperfections of their characters? O’Mahony in particular is a writer who would go into great detail about how flawed people were. 

3) “... Miss Kapoor - whose sins are much more scarlet than mine - wouldn’t stoop to.” I choose to believe this is a slight reference to how Anji was treating by some writers at the time. The EDA authors wither loved Anji, or hated and demonized her. I could be reaching with that one, but it doesn’t quite make much more sense otherwise. Maybe a reference to her earlier distrust and betrayals of the Doctor (such as in Mark Clapham’s Hope?)

1) This is why I think O’Mahony was attacking the negative handlings of Anji, because the description of her character in the first few sentences is so... good. Beautiful, caring. 

2) “The entropy rolling from the Deep...” I’m convinced that, in the end, the threat coming to destroy the universe, the stagnancy, the entropy, the “war,” is Doctor Who’s continued cancelation. Its the 40th anniversary, fourteen years since the show was cancelled, the series kept alive by a small and committed group of book readers and BF listeners (during BF’s early years). I’m adamant that the Wilderness Years produced some of the most creative and original Doctor Who ever, but it is very easy to see why people considered continuing the story a losing battle. More and more, the series slipped out of public consiousness and become more and more of an exclusive cult

3) The second critical take on companions in Doctor Who is a negative one (but one that needs to be said in some cases): in the end, they’re all interchangeable. None of their backstories or quirks matter in the end because they’re interchangeable stereotypes that need to stand their and ask the Doctor questions. What’s gorgeous about this sequence is how it tackles that idea in such a meta and independent way. Anji, realizing that she is, in fact, the latest face in a countless list, takes power from that. She reaches back to her predecessors and uses their abilities, their attributes, for her own agenda, all the while dressing as Anji Kapoor, praying to Ganesh as Anji Kapoor, being the unique and seperate entity that is Anji Kapoor. 

4) “Babewyns.” The Ma’lakh grotesques, the villains of The Adventuress of Henrietta Street and one of the major elements in Faction Paradox. 

This section operates on two levels, both fictionally and metafictionally. The idea that the Doctor is now a vacuum and Sabbath must either fix or flat-out replace him is the central conflict of their relationship and adversity throughout their novels. There’s also a pun on the EDAs’ “Earth arc” which was the start of the status quo that brought in Sabbath. But, you’ll notice, the “Earth arc” here is not The Burning... it’s An Unearthly Child. Sabbath’s (very morbid) take of what happened to the Doctor isn’t the plot of the EDAs, it’s the beginnings of Doctor Who. The Doctor became part of human consciousness in 1963!

So why is the Doctor now a puppet? A doll, an inhuman echo? Because the show is cancelled, and despite the series living on through, there’s this overwhelming feeling that maybe, just maybe, the final end is fast approaching. 

(Actually reading this theme in a story published two years before the show returned is rather nice, isn’t it?)

Sabbath’s take on this is, of course, negative and condescending, while Fitz focuses on the positivity of the Doctor. How he brings goodness and love into our lives, and that by “forgetting him,” (the show being cancelled) we’ve let horrible things into the world. That what Fitz is traveling with is the idea of the Doctor, the “totem” of what’s left, pushing through because Fitz/O’Mahony/the authors/the fans are still holding onto him. 

This section also shows how Sabbath really, in the end, cannot replace the Doctor. His best appearances outside Adventuress (Parkin’s Trading Futures and Rose’s Camera Obscura) stressed his limitedness, his flaws, his (debatable) inability to rise to the occasion. He talks to Fitz about power vacuums and the state of the universe, and then Fitz immediately confronts him with his antiquated 19th century beliefs and ideals. Lawrence Miles always claimed Sabbath was never meant to actually replace the Doctor, but several authors, including Lance Parkin, have since expressed that this was not common knowledge and that many authors fully believed Miles was trying to push Sabbath on them as “the new Doctor.” That’s what I think this is a response to (and mind, O’Mahony and Miles were colleagues and friends).

Here we see, we don’t need or want Sabbath. We just want our Doctor back. 

“Sometimes he believed that TV would save the world.” What a sad line, knowing the meaning of this story, huh? 

In the end of the story, Fitz and Anji rebuild their “Doctor-totem” from the junk of IM Foreman’s yard, literally using the ruins of the character’s humble 1963 beginnings to build the foundations. But remember, their Doctor is the Doctor of the novels. There’s more work to do to recreate their perception of him.

1) “Dawn Brigades of parahumans and the killer-cats of Gallifrey as they fought over the nature of the newborn universe.” Wardog’s Special Executive (representing the might and will of Rassilon) and the villains planned for the original story replaced by 1977′s The Invasion of Time (who I think here represent the Pythia), clashing during the universe’s minting (later known in Faction Paradox as the anchoring of the thread). This take on Gallifrey’s history (VNAs, EDAs, FP) is THE Gallifrey at the time of 2003. 

2) “Their tales would be told by the Needlefolk at the End of Time...” The Needle, seen in The Infinity Doctors, Unnatural History, Father Time, Miranda, and alluded to or contextual related to in Hope and The Gallifrey Chronicles. An important aspect of the lore at the time!

3) This ending is so beautiful, if sad. Here is where Fitz and Anji fully represent the Doctor Who fans and creators at the time. Using their stories, their (new) adventures to further coax their Doctor back to life. He’s built from the junk and refuse of the dead Classic series, he’s lavished with the stories and lore of the Wilderness Years. He is part of humanity, he’s in us, as long as he as friends (the fans) trying to keep him alive.  

[cindyfelicia]

Hi, I hope you’re doing well!! I was just wondering if you read comics? If so could you recommend some/ how to start getting into them? I want to start reading them, but it’s so stressful trying to figure out where to start. Also I love you blog!

Hi there! you’re all manners of sweet and kind thank u my advice abt approaching comics is going for solo runs first, this is how I, personally, did it and it’s way easier than jumping in on team books, or worse events bc they tend to be messier and need more bg info and pre-existing knowledge than a comic that focus on just the one character; I also feel it’s good to start with current or at least recent comics, you can always read the old stuff when you’re better acquainted with how comics work and which characters, artists and writers you like (or can tolerate).

actual recs under the cut because this got so long

i was gonna do a whole list of mcu characters’ solos because most people entry point to comics rn is superhero movies, and hmu if you want that, but instead I think I’m gonna rec you some good comics that are either separated enough from main marvel continuity as to be intelligible without extensive info gathering, or I just think they’re great and worth a bit of confusion (part of starting out reading comics is not knowing fully wth is going on sometimes, but stiking with it for some good art or for characters you love -I’m not gonna go so far as to say for good writing bc that’s just not realistic):

if you like yourself some spider-people:- silk (2015) and vol 2 (2016) are my absolute favorites- I’m not very much into spiderman but I read renew your vows  and it’s lovely,  it’s just not a main universe comic it’s an au where things are as, imo, they should be with ye old web slinger, and it’s good for getting your feet wet in the huge pool of spider-man comics;- I love miss jessica drew (spider-woman) but her solo is……. questionable if someone has a good jess drew intro rec pls tell me so I can pass it on, - miles morales has been written badly in more ways than one but I love him so I suffer, I can direct you without scruples only to his novel tho, absolutely lovely and not written by brian michaelbendis lmao- anya corazon is a really good character that marvel loves to forget it has, let’s not make the same mistake;- black widow 2014 and 2016 and bw: the name of the rose are all good comics (I know technically nat isn’t a spider person but like nothing about spider-woman’s powers screams ‘spider’ either so..

for wakanda I’d say good recent start-ups would be: - black panther (2016), - black panther: world of wakanda (w/ a lesbian couple as protag), - and rise of the black panther (ongoing)

some non x-men team books that are easier to approach as a beginner imho:-young avengers vol 2 (vol 1 has its moments if you want to start from the beginning with them but a lot of it involves the civil war arc and stuff.. also some characters die, the art is less good and I want to protect people from 17’s yo cassie lang’s nipples poking through her shirt.. I wish someone had protected me tbh) -I want to rec some Runaways but besides the current run (which is alright) there’s a lot to be said against the writing in most of the rest of them maybe vol 1? to have the origins pinned down-I feel like after a small read through of what exactly the hell was going on with secret wars you could approach A-Force vol 1 and the first half of vol 2 (the second half ties in with civil war II and I’m not touching that mess) and that and avenger world and sometimes secret avengers to me are good avengers books-she hulk 2014 and totally awesome hulk are my greens of choice but if you want an intro to bruce banner idont actually know, sorry-for the asgardians: thor 2014 and it’s follow up mighty thor, thor: god of thunder, angela: asgard’s assassin and its sequel angela: queen of hel, and loki: agent of asgard are my pick of this crop-we also have Fun here at marvel comics on occasion and both patsy walker aka hellcat and squirrel girl are nice in their own way although the latter isn’t really my thing

some follow up on the young avengers:- hawkeye (2013) an absolute fan favorite, good to discover that actually clint barton was a good character it’s that the avengers movies are just bad and hate people with disabilities- a couple of follow-ups to that (x) (x) and the kate bishop solo all pretty nice- america chavez’s solo (I’m just here to suggest gay comics, that’s almost all I read really)

I want to rec Champions to people but frankly it’s just a long series of event interruptions and bullshit interspersed with a couple of nice moments so far, so I’m gonna rec you some kids that are in the champions and have solos I haven’t already mentioned:- kamala khan’s book is probably my favorite ongoing series at marvel right now about any non-mutant char, I cannot say enough good about it,- nova is nice,- miles morales (spider-man) and amadeuscho (totally awesome hulk) are also there but I’ve already mentioned themalso in this house we love and respect elektranatchiosand any other attitude just isn’t tolerated.

on to the x-men, gotta love those guys, you just gotta:- like I said I prefer to tell people to start from recent comics but with the xmen that’s so difficult? it’s been 10+ bad years for them because of the movie rights situation and just marvel being shit in general, so my one recent team book to approach the x-men is prob x-men ‘92? because its based off of the xm animated series so you don’t have to straightaway deal with some mutant plague, eugenics plots, and other catastrophic events, but you can still get to know more of the char we all love - I want to say generation x vol 2, it’s not a good starting point for anything really but I love it so so much I had to mention it even tho it was cancelled and I’m still angry as hell about it.

the solo situation is better. I’m gonna be able to breathe without tasting my own bile while I type this, hurray!-all new wolverine follows laura kinney as she takes up the mantle from logan-iceman, good solid comic abt coming out and ice puns, who doesn’t like bobby really-jean grey, yes she’s a teen girl in this, yes it’s weird and I hate de-aging characters but it’s nice to see her train with different mutants, struggling with the incoming phoenix force and her adult self’s shadow, not really great entry point to jean grey but id read it anyway-if you were into the 00’s xmen movies like me, or at least a normal person’s amount the phoenix recently returned and with her adult!jean grey, it was a good book for me and good if you want to later start reading the actual phoenix saga (which is a lot of material so starting small with this might help) -I love wandamaximoff and despite what they’ve done to the maximoffs in order to bring them into the mcu (was it worth it for that result btw? really?) her recent book was good and I genuinely loved it -storm’s solo is so good, you’re gonna fall in love with an het ship and you’re not gonna regret it either-rogue and gambit, is ongoing and it’s good to get a little acquainted with these characters but mostly it’s about explorign their relationship

I’m sure I’m forgetting a lot of good x-men content atm but I can’t stop thinking I need to mention that there are ongoing series you could pick up its just.. I hate them.. some started out promising (xmen gold, astonishing xmen), but they’ve not developed in good directions imo, but I still feel they should be mentioned, there’s also a weapon x comic if you want to go for a more bloody kind of book and xmen blue if you like time displaced teens or something? god its bad

jeez this is so so long and guess what? I haven’t even finished yet.. there’s some excellent indie comics out there and with those you really don’t need to worry abt knowing any 30 years old lore or anything you pick them up and they explain themselves like any other normal media out there, I know, be still my heart:

- lumberjanes is my absolute favorite, a little corny, but so much fun and cuteness and if I could go back in time I’d give it to my little bi self so she’d know she’s not alone and anything I feel that ways about has a special place i my heart js

- Motor crush, there really isn’t any other comic book with a black lesbian as protagonist out there that I can think of, good if you’re into motorcycles but if like in my case that threatens to put you to sleep, it also has a sci-fi streak and solid character work, you won’t regret giving it a try

- moonstruck, cute non-white gay werewolves and other mythological creatures are there, I feel this cathers to me specifically every time I open it?? bless

- Hi-Fi fight club or heavy vinyl (they changed the title) if you want a period piece that’s fun and cute and gay (I meant it about me reading only gay comics as you can tell)

- saga, for a space, well ya know.. saga I feel that I can describe it as romeo and juliet in space with added racial commentary except they don’t kill themselves, I have to say not my favorite but you might stick with it for the characters, I sure do

- the wicked + the divine, I feel very much the same about this as I do about saga, only this is mythology based so like.. I sold my soul to it, but please do tread with care there’s a lot of deaths in it and so many of these dead people are gays and/or poc.. I’m none too pleased about it and I’d understand anyone not wanting to pick it up, I mean the deaths are basically in the premises of the books but that doesn’t change the end result..

lastly like I said dc is not my area of expertise but I’ve been following with pleasure both batwoman and green lanterns, and mr miracle was an amazing comic so I thought I’d mention them

[valkerymillenia]

Omg there's so much I want to talk about in TLJ that I don't even know where to start!

And my ships 😏 hehe I see what the authors are doing.

Red herrings everywhere.

Spoilers ahead.

These are random disjointed fangirlish thoughts on the movie that I have to spill out before I can become coherent again. Bare with me.

THE HUMOUR! So good and yet so well nuanced that it complemented the seriousness of the  movie very well.

GENERAL HUGS and SALT GUY need to be memes. I mean, c’mon guys, you know I’m right.

LEIA USING THE FORCE TO SAVE HERSELF, IN THE VACUUM OF SPACE! My gods, she always had so much potential and it’s good to see some of it finally being expressed. They built Leia up so well in this movie, so much development, I love it but now I’m so afraid of what they’ll do for ep IX without Carrie...

Billie Lourd having way more protagonism! The legacy continues.

WOMEN EVERYWHERE!  As many as the men and in equal posts! Thank you, gods! Also, POC everywhere! YES, THANK YOU!

Rose is freaking adorable and well written, the viewers form an instant connection with her through her sister and she has that innocent and wonder that we haven’t had since New Hope’s Luke.

Though Rose describing Canto Bight made me laugh because it was a perfect echo of Obi-Wan describing Mos Isley... In fact when she described it as an ugly horrifying place filled with the most despicable people, all I could think was ‘girl, you’ve clearly never been to Mos Isley’. Though in the end Canto Bight is more civilized but morally worse than Mos Isley so she’s not wrong.

Still wondering was the message Rey asked Chewie to give Finn...

Shipping wise... They're baiting us with Finn x Rose AND Finn x Poe AND Finn x Rey all at once. Interesting to see the guy being the center of a love tangle for a change. Anyway, they are clearly letting the audience chose how to interpret each relationship.

Now, I’m trying to analyze this without shipper goggles (yet) so...

Poe's body language is all over Finn who seems clueless, Poe just acts so differently around Finn compared to others, hell, he even acts possessive of Finn (the way he examines all of ‘naked and leaking’ Finn, and, his face when he meets Rose and slightly places himself between her and Finn- “Who’s this?”).

Rose kisses Finn but he doesn't kiss back, it's not even shock he just looks confused and more concerned with saving her. In sum- Rose's body language is all over Finn, even more explicitly than Poe (because heteronormativity and all) but once again Finn looks absolutely clueless of what others feel towards him.

The only times Finn's body language and attitude go beyond more than friendship and admiration are when it's related to Rey... Though then she’s the one whose body language only denotes platonic feelings.

I see what's happening- the authors are showing all these options as red herrings under our noses, which often happens in the middle of trilogies, all so the fans won't be able to guess what's coming. Hell, I could almost feel an asexual vibe from Finn and the Rose x Finn kiss echoes the red herring Leia x Luke kiss in ep V so much...

Personally I still ship stormpilot (though not averse to Rose and Poe sharing Finn but that will never happen and still prefer stormpilot), even though I openly admit that it's clear they wanted to show obvious Finn x Rey chemistry and some Finn x Rose (albeit more one-sided).

Moving on...

ALL THE FUCKING REYLO! My poor shipper heart was exploding!

Topless Kylo! Flustered “please-cover-up-that-distracting-bod” Rey! LMAO!

I'm so happy that reylo is a cannon thing now. Sure, it's in a tragic ship sort of way instead of openly romantic, but damn, that back to back battle against the praetorian guard... AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Scarred Kylo! 

Kylo hesitating and refusing to shoot, most likely because Leia was on board the ship...

Rey crying when she touches Kylo and connects to his emotions. 

Official confirmation that Snoke was already manipulating Ben when he was Luke’s apprentice (like what was stated in the novelization of TFA).

Ben turning to the dark because he felt betrayed by Luke (echoing Anakin and the Jedi Council). 

Kylo constantly conflicted and expressing it through anger and obvious emotional vulnerability, even (or even more so) as he becomes “the big baddy”.

Kylo BEGGING to have Rey on his side. And vice-versa.

Kylo killing Snoke, not for power but for Rey, the power was just his ambition and greed bubbling up as Rey denies him.

Pretty sure Kylo will get a redemption arc- I know it doesn't seem like it but the clues are there and I'm a good 90% sure of this, otherwise we'd just have a copy of Anakin's conflict all over again albeit Kylo being more ambiguous and also less determined in about his intentions. Now, if this redemption ends well or not, with love or without it, with grey jedi or otherwise, that is where the mystery lies.

Ok, I admit, Reylo is my otp but objectively in canon I don't know how the ship will end, at this point it can go either way; but imho Kylo will be redeemed somehow. As a writer and someone very much used to deconstructing plots, I can tell that there are enough clues for this, not just in this movie but in the big picture of the whole SW movieverse. 

One thing is for sure- the old dichotomy of jedi and sith as we know it is dead. Luke, Kylo and Yoda give us enough confirmation of this (and admittedly the whole black-white/good-evil extremes thing was getting SO old).

Personally I'm praying with all my might that we get Grey Jedi at last! And that would make both Rey and Kylo’s predictions true- she strays from the light and him from the dark and they meet in a middle term... It would make sense and seems to have been foreshadowed but unfortunately it’s not one of those things I can say I’m certain off. 

Let’s also have in account that the title of the movie is “The Last Jedi” but intended as plural (even here the subtitle was plural) so when Luke says “I will not be the last jedi”, I don’t think he means Rey exclusively.

Kylo was not made for leadership and rule either so I do wonder who will take the reigns of this crumbled government when it’s all said and done.

What else...

POE BEING A HOT-HEADED DAREDEVIL! He had such an aura of competence and poise in TFA but in TLJ we saw so much development, he was so humanized and flawed (but in the best way).

Phasma’s death was... as we say in Portugal “soube-me a pouco”, aka it felt lacking. Don’t get me wrong, it was epic, but they made such a huge deal of her in PR and marketing (especially in TFA) that it feels like she had a bigger role that got edited out in post-production. The fight with Finn was perfect and excellent for his growth but it felt like we needed more on Phasma to make it more meaningful.

HOLDO’S KAMIKAZE MOVE! Goddamn, I had mixed feelings about her through the whole movie but, although I usually dislike the kamikaze martyr trope, at that moment I just adored her. I feel like we could have gotten a bit more personal with her but either way it was tragically perfect.

Luke’s death felt unnecessary. Again, don’t get me wrong- I was afraid I’d hate it but it was a good death, an appropriate and meaningful one; however, it felt anti-climatic and unnecessary in the progression and pacing of the story itself. Perhaps if framed differently... Either way, the only way the manner of his death can be justified to me is if he has an important role (big or small, whatever, but meaningful) as a Force Ghost in ep IX.

Kinda wish we'd have a Luke-Anaking force ghost reunion; the two of them guiding Leia and Rey and even Kylo... But that's just wishful thinking.

The sweet moment between Leia and Luke broke me, I wanted to cry. They deserved so much more time together, hell, WE deserved to see so much more interaction between them as close siblings.

The almost imperceptive glance we get of the Jedi books safely stored in the Falcon! Begging the questions- who and why?

I wanted more Chewie and definitely more Maz! I really, really, REALLY want more Maz as a sassier modern version of Yoda.

Speaking of- loved the Yoda cameo- Mr ‘if you don’t have the balls then I’ll do for you’.

I get a feeling we’ll be seeing DJ again... But, honestly, so many new characters and they COULDN’T BRING BACK LANDO FUCKING CALRISSIAN?!

Please tell me Rey will build her own lightsaber now! And make it a lightsaber pike, it fits her much better than than the Skywalker saber. 

Liked Rey’s parentage reveal, honestly so much better than having her conveniently be the heir of a pre-existing character. Also gives her tragic past much more intensity.

Porgs were cute but screw them, the Vulptex’s were soooooo much better.

I’m conflicted about Snoke’s death... It was brilliant but at the same time it wasn’t as impactful as it could be if his role had been more pronounced in TFA. Still, very good though.

Best of all- HUX BEING TOSSED AROUND LIKE A DOLL. Deflates his ego beautifully. And when Kylo gives the “shoot with all you got” order when Luke pops up and Hux repeats the order word by word but louder to the troops and Kylo just gives him that ‘bitch, I just said that’ face... Priceless.

I loved BB-8 before but now I ADORE HIM! In Poe’s ship trying to fix the circuit board and then just goes “fuck it” and smashes into the whole thing. xD “Finn, wet, leaking” ! And taking out the prison guards! And piloting a damn AT-AT alone to shoot troopers! He’s so fucking smart and resourceful and just as much a daredevil as Poe, not to mention cute AF! 

BB-9E was interesting we didn’t get much more from him than appearance so BB-8 FTW!

Give me BB-8 merch. All the BB-8 merch!  Pillows, plushies, the drone! I’m in love with all things BB-8!

But when it comes to droids, I wanted more from R2, he felt neglected. Though that move of showing the old recording of young Leia’s distress message to push Luke really was genius.

Wondering if the little boy at the end is force sensitive or if he (or other kids) will have any role in the Resistance, there was a lot of foreshadowing there.

OMG the movie was just sooooo good! The spoilers terrified me but it was so good, for a mid-trilogy movie it was just right. Let’s hope IX lives up to it.

Finally, one last question- WHY IS NOBODY ASKING WHAT HAPPENED TO THE OTHER HANDFUL OF PADAWANS (KNIGHTS OF REN) THAT LEFT WITH BEN??????

I got up and practically saluted when the “in memory of” showed up. It got me in tears.

Ok, end of rambles... for now.