#but blaming it generally on “the younger generation” is very old man yells at cloud

[vonkarma2]

no hate to op but takes like this r so silly like I’m not saying you shouldn’t be allowed to criticize things or say they’re mid and they suck that’s ok. but saying that media is only just now becoming mostly mediocre + it’s teenagers fault is like so blatantly due to your own biased perception. they didnt just now invent corporate shlock + people today definitely don’t have uniquely low standards come on

[canary3d-obsessed]

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 10 second part

(Masterpost) (Other Canary Meta)

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

Unclean Realm

Lan Wangji has a Louis Henry Sullivan moment on seeing the Nie family home, becoming enraptured by its overwrought monumental architecture after a lifetime of restrained good taste and single-story buildings.

He approaches the fortress with the expression of delighted wonder that he usually reserves for when he’s looking at the moon or at Wei Wuxian.

Wei Wuxian is like, yep that’s a building, all right, but he supports Lan Wangji’s kinks.  

Meng Yao tells them about the Wen Clan directive, and has what appears to be a moment of genuine, affectionate amusement at Nie Huaisang’s reaction.

Jiang Cheng kinda blames the Lans for inventing the whole “indoctrination” thing and for encouraging his brother’s disaster bi tendencies. Wei Wuxian responds by complimenting the Lan Clan, almost like someone who met his true love got some real value out of the instruction he received there.  

(more after the cut)

One of the great ironies of this story is that Wei Wuxian sort of becomes a rogue Lan disciple because of his relationship with Lan Wangji. He relies on Lan temperament techniques, uses music as a primary cultivation method, has committed all of the Lan rules to his supposedly terrible memory and cites them on multiple occasions, and is an important mentor for the younger generation Lan disciples. Because Hanguang-Jun is just that good in bed.

Xue Yang in the background of this conversation is channeling OP’s church-enduring, school-enduring inner 10-year-old.

Nie Mingjue, Chifeng-Zun, appears, and couldn’t be more different than his brother. On first watching this episode, I saw him as a grumpy, sexy, very emotional leather daddy man who is quick to anger. Rewatching, I see someone who’s struggling with a growing illness...the resentful energy kind.

Nie Mingjue’s handling of resentful energy is very different from Wei Wuxian’s straightforward interest and acceptance. NMJ has a traditional cultivator’s view of it, regarding it as evil and as something to resist, while he is literally carrying it on his back. He’s like a secret alcoholic who is preaching temperence, and can’t find a way to be reconciled with himself.  

At this point of the story, Nie Mingjue is keeping it together, but is under a hell of a lot of stress, and Baxia’s blood thirst is already maybe a problem.

The Yunmeng bros think that Nie Huaisang’s fear of his brother is hilarious, because they don’t understand the situation. They think he’s just living in a hideously toxic family dynamic like theirs, when actually he’s in a loving, sorta healthy, if parentless, family that is being crushed under a generational curse.

Compliments for the Yunmeng Bros

I’m not the first meta poster to notice how happy Jiang Cheng is to be praised by Nie Mingjue.

He never gets this at home. Jiang Yanli praises him, but in that watery “you tried your best” way that doesn’t really stick.  Nie Mingjue’s praise really means something, because he is a fearsome warrior and stern authority figure. And this is a double compliment, because Nie Mingjue says he heard it from Lan Xichen, and agrees with it.

Let’s Make Terrible Decisions

Keep Xue Yang alive, says Wei Wuxian, and Meng Yao immediately agrees, although I’m pretty sure he would have proposed that even if WWX hadn’t.

So they do, not realizing that “kill him later” is never a good plan for someone who 1. super needs killing 2. has a whole lot of death-dealing skills.

Future clan leader Jiang Cheng notices how smart and talented Meng Yao is.  Xue Yang finds it hilarious when the trio praises Meng Yao, possibly because their evil team up is already underway.

Boss’ Bed Warmer Son of a Ho

The constant insults toward Meng Yao are about his mom, but there’s another level of leering implication, that Meng Yao seems to encourage in his conversation with the soon-to-be-murdered guard captain.

Nie Mingjue elevated him way above his expectations, and he is ridiculously pretty, which has to create rumors. In the Nightless City scenes when he’s fondling Baxia and telling Nie Mingjue’s family secrets there’s definitely a sense of intimacy that’s not just “loyal retainer.”

I feel like maybe this whole exchange is a bit of theater designed to show Xue Yang something without showing it to anyone else. Meng Yao didn’t need to have this conversation in front of his prisoner.

Let’s Do Exactly What We Said We Wouldn’t

Once the younger quartet are alone with Nie Mingjue, Wei Wuxian crosses the room away from his friends and practically into Lan Wangji’s pocket, if Lan Wangji had pockets.

He has no pockets and also has no personal bubble any more, when it comes to Wei Wuxian.

We could make a weapon out of Yin Iron, Wei Wuxian says, completely forgetting his entire conversation with Lan Yi, apparently. Lan Wangji doesn’t argue with this idea.

Nie Mingjue warns Wei Wuxian not to try it.

I stabbed a man in Qinghe just to watch him die

Nie Mingjue is like the Johnny Cash of the cultivation world, carrying the weight of his poor choices and trying to steer the young folk to the path of righteousness. But--like Johnny Cash--his bad choices have made him really fucking cool, so he isn’t very good at deterring anybody.

Meng Yao Didn’t Come Here to Make Friends

Immediately after Meng Yao’s fellow Nie clan people call him “son of a whore” again, Wei Wuxian meets him, is nice to him, addresses him by his military title, bows to him, asks why he’s away from the party, and thanks him for his service.

But Meng Yao has already decided to make friends with Xue Yang, so Wei Wuxian goes onto his list of people that he doesn’t give a crap about except if they can be useful to him.  Then Meng Yao goes to make out hatch a plot with Xue Yang.

I’ll Sleep On Your Roof

Meeting SongXiao seems to have done away with the last of Lan Wangji’s resistance to his connection with Wei Wuxian.

He hears a noise on the roof and, when realizing it’s Wei Wuxian, he smiles one of his tiny reserved smiles before heading outside.

When he sees Wei Wuxian drunkenly sprawled on the roof, limbs akimbo, wine on his chin and neck, mouth full of poetry about the open road, Lan Wangji gives him the most fond look imaginable.

Then he reluctantly leaves, with his signature “say goodbye, but only when he can’t hear you” thing.

They’ve both come a really long way since their first meeting. Wei Wuxian is openly and vocally attaching himself to Lan Wangji...but is not actually entering his space or asking for anything from him; he just wants to be near him, and wants to let him know that. “I’ll sleep on your roof tonight.”

And Lan Wangji just...loves him. Wei Wuxian is drunk, embarrassing, demonstrative, eager to make a hell weapon out of yin iron, touchy feely, and absurdly sexy. And Lan Wangji is pretty okay with all of that.

I Might Have Been Drunk

Wei Wuxian carefully avoids telling Jiang Cheng where he was last night.

Even if he did get blackout drunk, he would have woken up on Lan Wangji’s roof. And I don’t think he was as drunk as that. He just knows Jiang Cheng wouldn’t like the truth.

Wen Fucking Chao, Again

Wen Chao shows up to be annoying and boring.  This leads to a pretty good fight between Nie Mingjue and Wen Zhuliu. Note that when the chips are down, Nie Huaisang stands with his Gege without any cowering. Almost as if he had hidden reserves of bravery, and is not as helpless as he lets on.

Wen Zhuliu isn’t styled to be super hot, although he’s certainly compelling, and in Dance of the Phoenix he looks good with sensitive-guy hair wispies. I wonder what actor Feng Mingjing looks like out of character?

BRB, adding a tag to my follow list

Battle Bros

When the fighting breaks out, the Yunmeng brothers are decisive and united, with Wei Wuxian giving orders to Jiang Cheng and JC following without hesitation.

I feel like if these two could have gone through a few big battles together, instead of being separated during most of the Sunshot campaign, their whole relationship would have improved. On the battlefield, they respect, trust, and understand each other.  

The Pointy End

Nie Mingjue is holding his own against Wen Zhuliu, but he gets distracted by Meng Yao hollering “Xue Yang has escaped” and then shanking the guard captain right in front of him.

Wen Zhuliu takes advantage of the distraction to aim a very slow stab at Nie Huasang, and Meng Yao jumps in front to get stabbed on his behalf.

When the Yunmeng bros show up to help NMJ, Wen Zhuliu immeiately yanks Wen Chao back behind him and points his sword at Wei Wuxian. He absolutely sees these two as a serious threat.  Considering that eventually WWX is going to kill Wen Chao while JC kills Wen Zhuliu, this concern is not misplaced.

Wei Wuxian tells Wen Chao to stop being such a jerk, and Wen Chao menaces Wei Wuxian and gloats about the burning of cloud recesses. The burning, that is, of some part of cloud recesses that doesn’t include the library, the Jingshi, the main cultivation chamber, the rabbit warren, or Lan Qiren’s house, unless the Lan Clan is really really good at rebuilding things to very exact specifications.

In a rare moment of seeing Meng Yao’s internal thoughts, he is worried about Lan Xichen when he hears about cloud recesses.

The Yelling Part

Now we have the particularly nasty breakup between Nie Mingjue and Meng Yao. It’s...got some layers. Meng Yao is cowering on the floor, but is not apologizing.

He never apologizes throughout this encounter.

孟瑤無悔  - Meng Yao (has) no regrets

This scene is amazing and excruciating to watch, even more when you know what’s ahead.

What the Fuck is Meng Yao’s Plan

On one level this is Meng Yao, manipulative sociopath, setting up a cover story for his aiding and alliance with Xue Yang.  On another, this is Meng Yao, loving subordinate, being tossed aside by his lord because he dared to stand up for himself.

He uses the same “scout’s honor” gesture we’ve seen Wei Wuxian use to swear he’s telling the truth. Wei Wuxian is always lying when he uses this gesture.

I’m...not sure exactly what Meng Yao’s plan is, with all these chess moves? By stabbing the captain in front of NHS, he created an opportunity to plant a cover story about Xue Yang’s escape. He might be hoping that Nie Mingjue will forgive him and keep him on, while Xue Yang can stay in his back pocket to be used later.

Dry eyes? Try Visene

Or he might be intending to get kicked out, given his non-apology. In any case, Nie Mingjue is weeping during this encounter, and Meng Yao...isn’t. He is signaling distress in his voice, expression, and body language, but his eyes are dry up until the last moment, and even then they just glisten a bit. In a show where every actor is an expert at crying on cue, that’s got to be a deliberate choice.

Which isn’t to say that Meng Yao is faking being full of emotion in this scene. It’s just that the emotion isn’t necessarily sorrow.

What Does Nie Mingjue’s Head Think

Flip the view and this is about Nie Mingjue being betrayed by a subordinate, who has turned out to be a self-serving murderer. And on another level it’s Nie Mingjue being betrayed by his lover, who was just using him for advancement.

I rewatched the later episode where we get the scene as Nie Mingjue’s head perceived it, and he’s particularly brokenhearted and disillusioned from his head’s POV.  In that version there is a telling addition to the conversation.

Nie Mingjue asks about the guys who were roasting Meng Yao behind his back. He asks, if I hadn’t come, would you have murdered all of them?

Um. No, dude. Of course fucking not. That’s what a patriarchal authority does. That’s the way an angry Nie Mingjue/Baxia team might solve a problem.

Meng Yao has to use subterfuge to kill his enemies. And while he super hates being called “son of a whore” it’s absolutely not enough to make him kill someone, with the risk murder brings. Likewise, being treated well isn’t enough to make him spare someone. Nie Mingjue totally doesn’t get this, because he’s been the patriarch of this clan his entire adult life.

And Here’s the Actual Problem

There is a betrayal here, but Nie Mingjue is not simply a victim.  Whether it’s a sexual relationship or a non-sexual bond of affection, there can be nothing solid in Nie Mingjue and Meng Yao’s relationship within a feudal society, because it is fundamentally unequal. Even if they love each other deeply - which I’m not convinced either of them does - every encounter they have is tainted with power dynamics.

Meng Yao has been elevated by Nie Mingjue and quite probably taken into his bed, as well as being told many family secrets, but has not been given a new surname (like, for example, Wen Zhuliu was) or independent power. More importantly, Nie Mingjue has not used his authority to remove or punish the many people who disrespect his subordinate.  Lan Qiren would have had all of those gossipy fuckers kneeling in the snow, and Wen Ruohan would feed them to his mosh pit zombies.

Meng Yao is a murderous little snake, but he is right to be angry with Nie Mingjue about some things, and his pursuit of his own agenda is understandable.

Well, That Was a Slice

Meng Yao leaves, hurt, with a dignified bow; just as he did that one time when his dad kicked him down the Carp Tower steps.

Take note, both patriarchal authorities: that is his way of saying “I’m going to murder you one day.”

Nie Mingjue sits with his broken heart, as we realize that we’ve only spent 20 minutes with this guy and we’ve gone on an entire emotional journey with him. This episode packed in a LOT.

Soundtrack: Johnny Cash, Folsom Prison Blues

[percival-c-mcleach]

Haunted Not By Ghosts- a McLeach fic.

The atmosphere was as heavy and thick as smog, stuck in time. The house, the barn and the ramshackle sheds were worn down from years of neglect, the barn having been particularly hard hit by time, half of its body rotted and given way to mushrooms.

The house's exterior had once been blue, now stripped almost completely to its wood and brick, with speckles of paint the only indication of what it might had been. The windows were cracked, rusted with dust. Weeds had forced themselves up between the boards of the porch, nearly obscuring the wood. Hidden among the vegetation was a dog bowl, a bright firetruck red that had now faded to a dull pink in the blistering sun, the faintest of childish block writing had faded too much to be read.

Taking a shaky breath, McLeach surveyed his childhood home. For forty years, it had laid abandoned, but it felt just as forboding now as it did back then, if not worse. Anxiety roiled in the man's stomach as he forced himself up the sunken steps, feeling the wood groan beneath him.

Joanna followed her master's footsteps almost exactly, not trusting the structural integrity of the building. She watched as McLeach hesitated with the doorknob, as if it would suddenly come to life and bite him. He gave a gentle twist of the knob- no luck.

"Aw hell.." McLeach huffed, twisting the knob harder. He jiggled the door, but the ancient wood refused to give. He crouched to examine the old doggie door-one he used as his personal entrance to the house-but he was now too old and too round for such an endeavor. Joanna looked between him and the door, noticing his pointed look. She shook her head hurriedly-no way would she be able to fit through there, and she was not looking to get splinters in her sides. Letting loose a curse, McLeach kicked the door-and it popped open nearly effortlessly. Quickly shaking off his surprise, he shouldered the heavy oak the rest of the way open, coughing as a wave of musty air washed over them both.

Once natural sunlight fell over the place, McLeach felt his breath catch in his throat- sans a thick coating of dust, the hallway looked almost exactly as he remembered it being. It was as if the other three McLeaches hadn't left the house; most of the decor still hung in place, with the addition of cobwebs. The coat rack still held his father's old bag, four pairs of slippers lined up beneath the side table, waiting for owners who would never return.

The house felt haunted. Not in the way most people came to think of haunted houses, brimming with ghosts; haunted in the sense that you could feel everything that had happened in this place. The anxiety only grew stronger, the further the pair ventured in. The carpet had faded from direct sunlight, but the patches in the shade of the furniture still remained its dark green color. Dust rose in clouds as man and lizard ventured carefully down the hall, with Joanna trying her best to hold in her coughing.

The family portrait was still there, hanging above a boarded-up fireplace. McLeach didn't blame anyone for leaving it, it wasn't something you'd want to have in your house. The sepia-colored photograph was dust-covered, but the man could still feel the cold, hard glare of his father through it. He raised his hand to wipe away the dust. The first to emerge was his mother. Thin-faced and tired, with her dark hair pulled up in an untidy bun. In one arm she cradled the newly-born Casey in his thick wool blanket, the other dangled down, gently squeezing the hand of a seven-year-old Percival. He had been small back then, missing two of his front teeth and a head full of hair like his mother's, dark and messy. Rubbing away the rest of the dust, Mr. McLeach soon followed. Towering over his wife and children, not even the shadow from the brim of his hat could have hid the starkness of his unnaturally light eyes. His large hand had a rough grip on Percival's shoulder then, the man grimaced at the memory. He couldn't bring himself to look longer at his father than was necessary. Even in photographs, he seemed to be glaring directly at his eldest.

Feeling claws on his leg, McLeach glanced down to see Joanna attempting to raise herself higher, she wanted a view too. He scooped her up as one would a toddler, though with some difficulty given her hefty weight. "Ay, you know who that is?" McLeach smiled, pointing to his mother. Joanna tilted her head quizzically- the human woman looked very distinctively familiar, even though she knew they had never met. "That's your namesake," McLeach continued, "My mama, Joanna. I promised that I'd name my firstborn daughter after her...and well, you count, I guess." Joanna wasn't able to understand just how important that was, but she felt it was very, very important. She waggled her tail happily, inching her snout closer to the frame. She clearly recognized the young Percival, and let out a rasp that sounded much like a wheezing laugh. "Go ahead, you looked weird when you were a kid too." McLeach rolled his eyes. His arms had started to ache, and he set her back down. He continued down the hall, and froze for a brief moment when he came to the wall opposite the sitting room's entrance. Beneath a framed picture of Casey with his model airplane, a round hole was at shoulder-height, the impact having shredded and burnt the faded yellow wallpaper. "..Damn idiot didn't bother to get it fixed after I left, eh?" He scoffed, "You see this, Joanna? You can tell I didn't get my marksmanship from Pops. He couldn't hit the broad-side of a barn." A slightly alarmed chirrup arose from Joanna's throat as she realized what that hole was, but McLeach didn't seem bothered by it. He breezed past the bullet-hole and past the sitting room, after taking a quick glance inside and finding that the armchair and couch were overrun with a brackish mold.

The kitchen was small, and had once been cozy. The kitchen window had broken, and one of his mother's prized climbing rosebushes had wormed its way in, leaving a layer of generations of rotting petals over the linoleum. Nevertheless, the rosebush itself was thriving, its creamy white petals shining in the golden sunlight. Reaching out to touch, McLeach couldn't help but to pluck one of the roses off, holding it in his palm. He had forgotten how silky-soft the petals felt, and how sweet it smelled; he closed his eyes and inhaled, feeling a sharp pang in his middle. A sharp pang of an emotion he couldn't quite describe. It was happiness and sadness rolled into one, and it left an ache. The smell reminded him of sitting outside with his mother, tending to the rosebushes together; if a blossom had just fallen, his mother would pluck apart the petals and keep them in a jar, preserved in the icebox until she got around to making soap and hand-cream. McLeach opened his eyes. The strange emotion only grew. He dropped the rose onto the floor, to join the rest of the fallen flowers.

Joanna had gotten braver, and went ahead of the poacher. She still felt intimidated by the house; she seen that her owner was as well. It was odd, to see him so on edge in a place that was so familiar to him. Maybe if she showed she was brave, he'd feel better. Crawling up a set of stairs, she gazed down the dim hallway. Four doors, only one of them was left ajar. Curiosity got the better of her, and the goanna went to take a peek.

The bedroom looked as if its occupant had left in a hurry. She could still see old toys and picture books on the shelves, a small, rickety wooden bed with moth-eaten blankets neatly made, with a shapeless lump that at one point had been a teddy bear sitting atop the covers. The walls were wallpapered, though it was difficult to tell what color they had been, for it was now all a dull grey. The posters on the walls were faded yellow, with vague shapes of rubberhose cartoon characters etched onto them.

Hearing McLeach wheeze his way to the top of the stairs, Joanna looked over her shoulder, and sat outside the door until McLeach could join her. He leant in the doorway of his old bedroom, soaking in the scene. After what seemed like minutes, he finally walked into the room, slow and quiet.

The thing of interest for McLeach were the picture albums on one of his shelves. The ones left exposed to the sun were faded-but maybe these were saved. He grabbed on and flipped it open, feeling a large lump rise in his throat when he seen that they were untouched. Smelled a little mildewy, but were still visible. He choked down the lump, flipping through each page slowly, wanting to savor every picture. His baby brother in his bassinet, wearing a goofy-looking baby bonnet. Flip. Their old dog, Blueberry, sleeping on the rug in the sitting room, a chewbone lolling out of his mouth. Flip. A photo of his parents on their wedding day, both looking much younger and happier than he had ever remembered them seeing; Mr. McLeach had looked kinder then, gazing at his bride with all the love and adoration that a husband was supposed to have for his life partner. Flip. His childhood friend, Ruby, sitting with the nine-year-old Percy on the river's rocks, holding baby ducklings. Flip. Flip. Flip.

These were happy memories; why did his heart ache so much looking at them? He shouldn't feel like this, looking back on what were the happier years of his life. Flip. Flip.

Percival's heart sank to the bottom of his stomach.

Of course there had to be pictures of Mr. Wells in here; back then, the McLeaches considered him as good as family. A tall, scrawny, unassuming man with shoulder-length brown hair, who had kindly and selflessly looked after Joanna and the boys while Mr. McLeach was away in the army- a second father figure, the reliant one, one who wouldn't yell and scream at the smallest of slights. After spending the summer with Mr. Wells as a boy, Percival wished he had stayed home. At least his father didn't play mind games with him, and when he hurt him, it was out of rage, and not premeditated. Not passed off as accidents that were all Percival's own fault. Not passed off as something he deserved, for something he couldn't even recall doing. The picture seemed so innocent. Just a kindly man with the boy he called his honorary son, on the back of a old mule at the fair. Percival knew better; he knew that under his child self's sweater was a nasty deep bruise, a bruise that hurt for weeks. Mr. Wells had claimed it had been an accident, that he hadn't meant to swing the shovel so hard into him. It was Percival's fault, for sneaking up on him like that.

'You'll be hurting for a while, Percy..' He could still hear that soft voice, too soft to note any real remorse, 'You frightened me something awful...I guess we learned our lesson on sneaking up on people, didn't we?'

We. As if it was a lesson they both learnt. As if it wasn't just one of the many thinly-veiled excuses used to hurt him. As if he didn't do worse, as if he did not permanently scar him physically and mentally. As if he didn't one day stop giving his excuses, once Percival had gotten too old to fall for them. As if it was the both of them having a knife held to the soft skin of their throat. As if it were the both of them who had to endure a full day and night in the skinning shed, surrounded by the dead, staring eyes of hogs. As if it were the both of them who had to endure nightmares, long after the torment had stopped.

It had always been 'We'. Never a 'I'm sorry.' It was always 'You.'

He had been brave only once. Brave enough to go to his father for help. How foolish of Percival to believe that his father would have stood up for his son. He never did such a thing before. The entire ordeal had been Percival's fault-his fault for being too stubborn, too much of a brat. If he had behaved better, Wells wouldn't have resorted to harsher punishments-it had been his fault he was treated so poorly.

For once, Percival stood up for himself.

Mrs. McLeach had tried to deescalate the fight. Mr. McLeach found himself with a broken nose, as Percival helped Joanna off the floor and out of the room. He only heard the safety click off before he had dove down the hall, sprinting from the door and into the night. "DON'T YOU EVER COME HOME!" For forty years he stayed away.

The strangled scream had terrified Joanna spitless. The goanna had been nosing around underneath McLeach's old bed, when her master emitted a sound so animalistic, that for a moment she feared that a big-cat had been hiding somewhere in the room. She immediately balled herself against the corner as the photo album was flung into the desk hard enough to shatter the frail wooden handle. The lump was back in McLeach's throat again, tighter and more painful than before, forcing tears to swell and blur his vision. His breathing came in ragged gasps, trying to keep the deep pain in his middle from winning. He crouched where he had stood, clenching his hands so tight that he felt as though they may break. He shouldn't be getting upset over this. He shouldn't be getting this upset over a goddamn picture.

It had been forty years. Why does it still hurt so bad? Why does it still feel so fresh?

The sudden warm weight crawling onto his lap tore him back into the present. Joanna scrambled as far up on him as she could. Percival hugged her as tight as he could, until his heart rate slowed back to normal, until he could breathe without choking. "Thanks." His voice was barely more than a croak. He took his bandana to dry his eyes with, "I'm sorry..I just.." he couldn't explain what had happened. Joanna understood though. She gently headbutted his shoulder, before slithering off of him and towards the photo album, picking it up in her jaws. McLeach took it from her, holding it in his lap. He'd tear out the pictures he wanted to keep, and leave the rest to rot in this forsaken house. The sun had just started to set as they made their way back to the truck, parked in the barren field next to the rotting barn. McLeach didn't even bother to give the house one last look before they drove off. Maybe now hadn't been the right time to come back. Maybe there never would be a 'right time.' Eventually, something had to be done about the place. Maybe he'd torch that haunted house to the ground. A house haunted, not by ghosts.

[evabellasworld]

Acing it with Love

For Star Wars POC Week 2020

Day 4: Sexuality

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Summary: Commander Tori of the 101st Battalion, who is an asexual, took Ava Lira and Eva Bella Young to the park when they have a deep discussion with an old lady, who shares the same sexuality as the clone commander

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Laying on her bed with a datapad in her hands, Tori was reading over her reports that she made earlier to Admiral Sallis about the Battle of Reza. The casualties counts were less compared to the other battalions, but many of her brothers and sisters were receiving treatment in the med bay, hoping to get back into action.

Her head began to hurt as her eyelids felt heavy, forcing her to put down her datapad beside her. Goodness, I need to get myself some fresh air, she said to herself, rubbing between her eyebrows. I'll go mad if I stay here any longer now.

Lifting herself off from her bunk, she looked in a mirror and adjusted her curly, black locks. Like all the clone troopers that were cloned from Krystal Mereel, Tori had dark skin, buttoned nose and earth-coloured, round eyes, along with a full lips and puffy cheeks, that are often squished by her brothers like Cody as a way to annoy her.

Clones of Jango Fett, on the other hand, have tanned skin and a nose slightly sharper than their sisters, but their sibling-like bonds are much stronger than the pillars that hold every part of the building. Due to Jango and Krystal being siblings through adoption, both male and female soldiers were put together by the Kaminoans to help them get along with each other.

They may tease each other, they may bicker and argue, but they love each other, no matter what. Tori gets along with Cody, who is a few months older than her. From their days as clone cadets, Cody guides Tori and accompanies her whenever she gets sent to the med bay, due to her accident-prone nature. She had lost count of how many casts she has ever worn in her lifetime.

From arm injury to head concussion to even a pelvic fracture that almost cost her service as a commander of the 101st Battalion, somehow, like both her Jedi Generals Ava Lira and Eva Bella Young, who were only 10 years old, Tori had avoided the angel of Death many, many times.

Another brother Tori is close to is Rex, who is much younger than her. She basically acts bossy to him and orders him to do whatever she pleases just for fun, despite his irritation. Ironically though, Rex himself had made Tori wish she could murder him in his sleep and even thought about selling him to the black market just for a pack of two fours.

Of course, Tori does love him dearly, but at the same time, she would roast him with her crude humour and make sarcastic comments about his stupidity and rigidness towards everything, if he understands her perfectly well.

Passing by her comrades underneath her command, they give her a respectful salute, which Tori gestured to them back as she headed outside of the clone barrack and hopped onto her speeder that is parked in her designated spot.

The sky was still bright, with the hot, afternoon sun shining in the horizon, along with the thick, white clouds that resembled cotton candies that Lira and Eva indulged in at a local carnival on Coruscant. 

From what she recalled, there were carousels that has horses spun around with a machine, there was a Ferris wheel that took them high above the ground, like a ship, and there were games that could let them win all sorts of prizes, like a black ring that Tori wore on her middle finger, which gives away to everyone that she’s an asexual.

Like her sisters, Tori does have a preference for dark-skinned men who are also tall and handsome, but she doesn’t think about sleeping with them, ever. Instead, she thinks of her man in a romantic way, such as taking her on a picnic beside a lake, or swimming together on a sandy beach.

But that doesn’t stop her from reading erotic literature that Odd Eye recommended to her, though. She enjoys reading from authors such as Vanka Pollak, who wrote Devilish Love, which was about a woman who has an intense love affair with a sex demon that she summoned from hell. 

The book was quality writing for her, but in real life, Tori couldn’t feel lust towards strangers she just met at a bar, or even men and women that she knew very well. Her siblings don't insult her or belittle her for lacking sexual attractions, but that doesn’t make her immune to creeps, who don't seem to understand her boundaries she had set.

Stopping in front of the Jedi Temple, Tori stepped inside and took the elevator to the Jedi’s quarters. Noticing drawings of flowers in front of the door, the clone commander gave a knock. “Come in,” a child’s voice replied.

She walked in and found both her Jedi General, Ava Lira and Eva Bella Young, sitting on the floor, playing with their toys. “Tori,” Lira smiled and jumped onto her, prompting her to hold her with both arms. 

“Hey, girls,” she greeted, putting Lira down. “How are you?”

“I’m okay,” Eva answered, hugging both of her dolls. “We’re just playing with each other, that’s all.”

“Is that so? Well, I was thinking I could go out with you both, if you’re okay with it,of course.”

“I want to,” Lira cheered, grabbing her backpack on Eva’s bed. “Where are we going?”

"I was thinking maybe we could go together, you know," shrugged Tori.

"Can Buttercup and Stripes come with us?" Eva asked, referring to her stuffed toys.

"Of course, sweetie. Your friends can come with us as well."

The redheaded twins with blue-green, almond-shaped eyes and fair skin yelled happily as they followed Tori to her speeder, sitting beside her.

"I hope both your masters are okay with this,” Tori informed them, driving through the smooth, Coruscanti traffic. “You know how protective they tend to be towards you.”

“They’re both at war right now,” Lira said. 

“Oh,” one of her eyebrows raised. “What about General Skywalker and Commander Tano?”

“Same thing.”

Well, that explains why I didn’t see Codes or Rexster this morning. I thought they were hanging out together without me. Then again, I don’t blame them for wanting a guys only hangout. After all, even we ladies do the same as well.

As they arrived at the large public park that is located in the heart of the city, Lira and Eva rushed out of the vehicle and dashed towards the playground, causing Tori to chase after those troublesome twins. “Girls, wait up,” she laughed. “I’m not as fast as you both.”

That was a huge, fat lie. Tori is pretty fast, but only if her life heavily depends on it. Otherwise, she’ll have to catch up with Cody, Rex, and Mayyah whenever they’re on shore leave. Back on Kamino, Tori is the slowest among her batchmates, which was one of the reasons why she’s always in bandages every week.

She reached the playground's bench and saw Lira and Eva playing in the sandbox with their toys while building a sandcastle. Tori felt that the girls were lucky that they got to act like a child. Meanwhile, she had to train from 5 a.m. to 10 p.m. in Kamino when she's their age.

The playground was full of kids their age, with some of them playing on the swings, some hanging on the monkey bar, and the rest of them were just scattered everywhere.

Tori noticed their parents were sitting beside her, observing their kid's antics. "Conny, don't stand on that slide," one of the mothers yelled. "You're gonna fall, young man."

Must be one of the overbearing mothers, the commander rolled her eyes as she saw the twins sharing their toys with a little girl, who had purple skin and lekkus. "This is Buttercup," Lira introduced her rag doll. "She is very huggable."

She could only smile as the Twi'lek girl shook hands with Lira, who then introduced her to Eva, who was holding her sister's hand with fear in her eyes. 

"Don't worry, Evie," Lira assured her. "She won't bite."

As Eva shook hands with the Twi'lek girl, Tori's lips curved upwards. That is sweet of Lira to introduce her new friends to Evie.

She recalled a time on Kamino when her comrade, Odd Eye, joined her class and was extremely timid and quiet to interact with her batchmates. It was Gowon, who was close to Odd Eye, helped her introduce her to Tori and Wollfe, who wanted to get to know Odd Eye very well. Odd Eye wasn’t an ace like Tori, but she validated her for her sexuality and her cheerful personality. 

“I hardly see you around,” a dark, old lady with glasses spoke to her, holding her cane. “Do you always go here?”

Tori has never seen that old lady before, but regardless whether she’s a complete stranger or an old friend from the past, she wouldn’t mind some company anyhow. Though she was warned not to interact with someone she doesn’t know, she felt safe if a woman twice her age decided to talk to her.

“I come here sometimes,” she answered politely. “Usually, I would be fighting in another part of the galaxy or I would hang out with my brothers and sisters.”

“Is it scary for you to be out there, fighting and seeing your own siblings dying around you?”

Tori nodded, frowning. “Yes, ma’am. It is brutal, but we can’t do anything to bring them back, no matter how much you tried to protect them.”

“Do you cry when they die?”

“I do, but I try my best to be strong for the sake of others’, you know.”

“There is nothing with crying,” the old lady gave her the softest smile, which melts Tori’s gentle heart. “You are a person, after all. We all run on emotions and empathy.”

The clone commander was surprised. No one, except for her siblings and Lira and Eva, had ever called her a person, ever. She and the rest of her vods were just properties of the Republic. They were bred on Kamino to fight and die. They weren’t meant to have their own interest outside of war, or even bond with people they met. It shocks her whenever people like Lira and Eva and the old lady tell her that she is a sentient being.

“Is something wrong, sweetie?” the old lady asked, noticing her distress.

“My apologies, ma’am,” Tori replied. “But we clones aren’t people. We were meant to be expendable and replaceable, that’s all.”

“Not to me,” she squeezed her warm hand onto hers, making Tori blinked twice. “You and your comrades risked your lives to protect us from danger. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

She stuttered for a moment, before she was able to answer. “I’m not fishing for compliments, ma’am. We were just bred that way.”

“You may look the same as the rest of them, but your own personality and quirks is what stands you out. Like for instance, I saw you running with your kids in the park an hour ago.”

Tori chuckled. “I’m not their mother, ma’am. I’m just looking after Lira and Eva while their parents are away for war.”

By Lira and Eva’s parents, she meant General Doyvesky and General Kenobi. She was aware about the twin’s biological mother from what they told her. According to Eva, their mother resembled the twins, but with black, silky hair. The father, on the other hand, was not in the picture at all.

“Doesn’t matter whether you’re related or not,” the old lady laughed. “What matters is the bond that you and the kids had formed together and from what I can tell, they seemed to look at you as their mother figure.”

I would be surprised if that’s the case, Tori said to herself. I’m not as close to them as General Doyvesky and General Kenobi.

“Right, of course, ma’am.”

“You know, I didn’t get your name earlier,” she slapped her own forehead. “What do you call yourself, child?”

“I’m Tori,” the clone introduced herself. “Those girls you were referring to are Lira and Eva Young. It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am.”

“You can just call me Grandma, Tori,” the old woman glanced at Tori with her deep, dark eyes, as if she has seen a lot through her whole life. “You have such a beautiful name.”

Before Tori could say something, Lira and Eva ran up to her, holding their toys. “Tori, we’ve made a new friend,” said Lira, pointing at the Twi’lek child, who was with her mother. “Her name is Leta.”

“Well, that’s great,” Tori grinned, turning to the grandma. “Well, it’s been a pleasure to talk to you.”

“Of course, dearie. Let me know if you need anything.”

As Tori bobbed her head and stood up, she noticed the exact same black ring on her wrinkly finger, sparking a curiosity in Tori’s head. “Grandma, where did you get this ring?”

“This ring was given to me by a friend of mine when I came out as an asexual many years ago,” she narrated her story. “It was a proud moment in my life to gain my confidence in my sexuality. I saw that ring on you as well, my dear. Are you proud to be an ace as well?”

Tori smiled, realizing that she isn’t the only one who lacks sexual attraction towards others.All these while, the public sees asexuals as less than a person, causing Tori to doubt herself. But now, she’s not alone, and she felt validated.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Commander Tori: 

Ava Lira and Eva Bella Young: 

[tentoriwrites]

Hypatia

This is my contribution to the Atlas Molniya appreciation week! Ye olde pirate AU. Sorry, folks, writing an entire fic where everyone talks like a pirate in a week’s time was a bit too much for me... It’s a pirate AU so there is some shooting and mild violence, but generally no other warnings or triggers.

Before you read: Hypatia is the name of the woman often attributed with inventing the first astrolabe. Astrolabe were the bar none instruments for helping sailors navigate the oceans by using the ship’s position relative to the stars. They are often described as primordial computers. The word astrolabe roughly means, “that which captures the stars” in Greek.

Tagging: @jane-runs-fast @dear-mrs-otome @yoolee @otomelin and @frywen-babbles

Thank you for your support in writing my first Lovestruck fic! <3

“Halt!” An imposing figure cloaked in red shouted as he spotted me dashing through the streets. Nope, nope! Not going to do it! I kept running trying to find a place to hide where there wasn’t a member of the Inquisition loitering about. My daring escape from custody was made all the more difficult by a suffocating corset and billowing skirt. Not sparing any blame on the heels of my shoes getting stuck in the cobblestones street sorely in need of repair! I mean really, if they aren’t using our tax money to fill pot holes, what are they using it on?!

My feet were taking me to the port where my brain told me I could hide on a ship until I thought of a better plan. I had almost made it when someone grabbed my arm and forced me to stop. His strong grip pushed me out of the middle of the crowded street and up against the rough brick wall.

“Turn over the device and renounce your heretic ways and you might just live.” I dragged my eyes up the expanse of polished armor to the insignia emblazoned on his chest. I could tell from how he was dressed he was a high-ranking member of the Spanish Inquisition. My hands rubbed against the rough texture of the wall behind me, the cool brick a stark contrast to the sickening heat of fear coursing through my veins.

The device in question pressed unpleasantly into my back and I fidgeted out of instinct. What better place to securely hide it than in the back of my corset where no one would find it? It sounded like a completely brilliant idea at the time. It was working well so far but If this jerk kept me pinned against the wall much longer I was going to faint, and it might just pop out!

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I’m pretty sure my voice could not have sounded any less convincing.

“Don’t play coy…” His eyes narrowed a fraction as he looked me over. “We know you have an Arabic astrolabe in your possession.” Arabic? The astrolabe I had found laying around and cleaned up was Arabic? “We have it under good authority that you have been working with the Arabs to undermine the Reconquista, the Inquisition, and all Christendom.” Well that’s news to me!

“I just found some books and tools laying around and studied them.” My voice came out on a shaky breath as my body trembled beneath his touch. I could tell from the way his grip tightened and his brow dug down he was not buying that.

“We will see how well that holds up during interrogation.” He hissed into my ear in a way that made him seem more a demon and less a man of faith. I wondered why a person of obvious belief such as himself would be so bent on my being guilty. I didn’t have much time to dwell on it as a low rumble started coming from one of the nearby streets. We both looked in the direction of the rumbling. Somehow, despite the fear singing through every fiber of my being, I managed to smile.

“It’s a Tuesday…” I remarked in relief.

“What does that have to do with…” His question was cut short by a man frantically rounding a corner nearby.

“CLEAR THE STREETS! CLEAR THE STREETS!” The man rushed by us as the rumbling intensified. It almost felt like the ground could open up at any moment and swallow us whole.

“What happens on Tuesday?!” He glared down at me and my broadening smile. I opened my mouth to answer him, but a stampede of cows rounded the corner before I could utter a single syllable. A charging bull at the front of the herd collided right into him, horns barely missing my arm. The bull took him off to parts unknown.

“Tuesday is when the cows are brought in for slaughter.” I answered smugly as I used the dust cloud for cover to slip into a narrow alley. At the end of the alley was the sea glittering in the sun brighter than the finest cut jewels. I made a break for it as fast as my ridiculous fluffy dress would allow in the cramped space.

 I looked around the docks to make sure the coast was clear before venturing out of the alley. There were boats of all shapes and sizes lining the docks. Many were in some stage of being loaded or unloaded. It would certainly look suspicious if a woman wandered on to any of them. Then one caught my eye, a smaller boat, with no one milling around. It had a Greek name on the hull making me hopeful the crew would be foreigners out for a good time right now. I tried to act as casual as possible as I walked quickly over to the boat’s gangplank. A rather clumsy hop, skip, and jump later and I stumbled onto the deck.

I glanced around before making my way to the door of the cabin. I slowly turned the knob and opened it just enough to slip inside. I heaved a sigh of relief as I slid to a crouched position against the door. I made it! I really made it! Relief washed over me as I let out a sigh. That’s when I heard it, a tell-tale click. I winced as I looked up. Seems it was a bit early to be celebrating.

“Who are you and why are you on my ship?” I followed the sound of the voice to a man leaning back in a thick wooden chair, feet propped up on the heavy table. He wore sturdy black leather boots to just below the knee with black trousers tucked into them. Burnt orange leather vest peeked out from the black waist coat draping off the side of the chair and dusting the floor on either side. Faded orange embellishments drew attention to tarnished brass buttons.

He seemed aged beyond his years, flecks of grey in his dark hair betraying a younger looking face. The large coat that hung loosely over his frame obscured most of his body. For a moment I pondered what his physique was like hiding under there. Regardless, he painted a stunningly handsome picture that hit me completely off guard. That is until a cold glint in the dimly lit cabin caught my eye. He had the barrel of a gun pointed right at me.

“Well it’s a very interesting story actually…” I called back as I quickly scampered to my feet. “You see the Inquisition thinks I’m a heretic because I found this astrolabe and fixed it up… So now they want to take me in for questioning.” There is a long moment of uncomfortable silence that compelled me to continue, but he beat me to the punch.

“So, you thought you’d just meander on the first boat you found and stowaway?” He sat the gun down on the table as he spoke flatly.

“Not exactly, no… the name caught my attention. Asteri. It’s a beautiful name! Did you know Asteri means…”

“Star in Greek? Yes, I’m the one that named it.” He cut off my nervous meandering with those few short words. Now is not the time to start rambling! Now is probably the time to be leaving…

“Yes! Of course! You mentioned that… Well I just thought I’d hide out until dark when it would be easier to escape… I’ll just see myself…” Suddenly there were frantic foot falls from outside and Atlas rose wordlessly to his feet. “Out?” He crossed the room quickly, grabbing me by both arms and lifting me out of the way of the door.

“ATLAS!” At precisely the same time a man yelled, and the door flew open. “Time to go…?”

“You heard the Captain, off you go.” The man, I presume was named Atlas, gave me a pointed look as he gestured out the door with a tilt of his head.

“Why is she even here?” The captain asked as he walked out behind Atlas.

“Stowing away.” Atlas’s voice had all the compassion of an executioner.

“I guess today’s her lucky day seeing as I already pulled in the plank and Nova is already hauling anchor.” Another man wearing red chimed in merrily as he shot the three of us a dashing smile. The tramping of hooves and clinking of metal on stone filled the air as Inquisition knights drew down on the ship.

“He’s right we’ll have to take her with us to the next port.” The captain conceded causing Atlas to mutter a string of obscenities the likes of which I had never heard before. Success! Way out of town secured! A bullet whizzed past my head killing yet another short-lived moment of happiness.

“Well there you have it! Miss, if you would kindly just wait in the cabin.” The man in red motioned to the door behind me. I gaped at him as he pushed me out of the way. Not one among them seemed the least bit bothered about being shot at.

“Why is the Inquisition shooting at us anyways.” The captain posed the question as he moved to release the sails. They aren’t shooting at you! They’re shooting at me! I looked on in abject horror as they were caught in the middle between the Inquisition and I. Bullets embedding themselves in the worn wooden deck as the crew rushed to get the ship moving.

“Ask the stowaway!” Thanks, Atlas. Way to make me feel even better about this being all my fault. Just as another round of shot careened towards the ship, I saw him, the Inquisition knight from before. He was looking down at me smugly from atop his horse. The fact that he could look so smug while wearing dented armor somehow made him even more infuriating to look at. The volley threw up a cloud of smoke obscuring his face temporarily.

“Prepare to board the ship!” The knight commanded with a sneer.

“Now! While they’re reloading!” The captain yelled as he and the man in red unfurled the sails. A woman in purple gunned down the knights trying to lower a plank onto the ship with startling accuracy. The boat lurched forward at a pace that would make a snail look like the bull runner I saw earlier. Thankfully, it quickly picked up speed as we neared the entrance to the harbor. I leaned over the railing as we cleared the sea wall, watching the city start to fade behind us. Soon even the coast itself seemed small.

“I think you owe us an explanation.” The captain said pulling me back on to the deck with the sound of his stern voice. “But first I suppose we should introduce ourselves.” He added as he motioned for us to convene at the wheel with Atlas. He introduced himself and the crew. They were bounty hunters, it would seem, and they had only been in town to cash in on their latest mission when the Inquisition attacked them.

They were all looking at me now with questioning eyes. All except Atlas, he looked like he wanted to chuck me over the railing. Joke’s on him because I can’t swim! So, that would actually be a perfect way to get rid of me… Who’s brilliant idea was it to hide on a boat when they can’t swim? Oh yeah, mine… Focus brain!

“I found this old astrolabe and book full of calculations from it. I fixed it up and started studying the calculations.” I started my explanation while trying to wrest the astrolabe from my corset. The other woman on the ship, Nova, seemingly sensing my distress walked up behind me and untied the strings.

“You hid the thing in your dress?” Orion, the captain, looked at me skeptically.

“A corset is a very secure place to keep valuables.” Nova answered for me as she loosened the strings. Thank you! I couldn’t help the smug little smile that tugged on my lips. “Something flat would be better kept in one than an astrolabe though.” And there’s goes my happy little moment… again…

Once the device had been freed, she handed it to Orion, much to my apprehension. I fretted anxiously at the strings of my corset as he looked it over before handing it back to me. “Looks ordinary enough to me.” I felt myself pouting a little at his underestimation of my little treasure.

“May I?” Atlas had one hand stretched out towards me.

“Um… sure…” I slowly reached the device out and gingerly sat it in his hand. My fingertips lingered on it a moment longer than I meant to before pulling my hand away. He looked the device over carefully, a small smile on his lips for the briefest moment.

“Not a bad restoration. Definitely, Arabic.” He flipped it over and his eyes narrowed as he ran his fingers over the back.

“The inscription was there when I found it. I put the stain on it to try to enhance it and make it easier to read.”

“Had much luck with it?” Atlas wondered flatly as he flipped the astrolabe over again.

“The notes and calculations I found with it suggest the inscription is directions to a destination the astrolabe was made to lead someone to. But I wasn’t able to figure out what before I had to make my escape.” I explained as my shoulders slumped with regret.

“Don’t suppose it’s buried treasure or anything, do ya?” Jaxon, the man in red, commented playful with an amused grin.

“Whatever it is, the Inquisition wants it, which means we do not.” Atlas answered handing me the device again. Despite Nova’s earlier admonishment, I stuffed it back in the front of my corset for safe keeping. Nova suddenly gave the wheel a hard yank and the whole boat yawed. A moment later, a cannonball sailed through the air landing in the water with a splash. I looked at Nova flabbergasted.

“Nova’s what you’d call… a clairvoyant… sort of.” Jaxon explained with an easy smile.

I glanced behind us and realized the ships pursuing us were Inquisition vessels. These guys just don’t know when to give up! Just when I thought I’d lost them, they creep back up when I’m least expecting them! I looked over the deck watching the crew members scurry around to man the few guns the small, nimble vessel had. Atlas at the wheel expertly dodged the cannon fire. There I was, perfectly useless trembling in fear.

Think, think, think! This is my fault! There has to be something I can do to help. West. We’re traveling west. I took stock of our position to the coast. I looked up at the sky to figure out the time. Low tide. PERFECT! “Atlas! About face!”

“Oh yes! Let’s just drive right in to the arms of the people shooting at us!” He bit back as an irritated glare painted itself on his face. “How about you just sit down and leave the privateering to the professionals, Princess.”

Clearly, he’s not going to listen to me. Time to take matters into my own hands. Literally. I grabbed the wheel and gave it a hard yank. The whole boat whipped around violently bringing Atlas face to face with my plan.

“That sea cave loops around and comes out down the coast to the east. They would be expecting the Asteri to continue its heading west! It’s big enough for a vessel this size but not a boat the big!” I pointed to the coast and he quickly caught on. “I am fairly certain you can get us there.”

“You’re crazy.” He started to turn the boat back around.

“Atlas, we might be able to lose them on the open water for a while, but they’ll catch us again. We need to find a friendly port and get a plan together.” Chagrin clear on his face, Atlas made for the cave after Orion voiced his approval for my plan. I watched with bated breath as Atlas turned the ship around and started to head straight for the flagship.

“Atlas… The cave’s over there.” He didn’t seem to hear me, just kept our course steadfastly locked on a collision with the other ship. “Atlas…” I could see people on the ship rushing about to point their guns forward. “Atlas…” My voice was a little more desperate this time.

“Look, kid. I’m not about to hand you over to the Inquisition that easily. If they want you that badly they’re going to have to sink this ship first! And I’m not about to let them do that!” I crouched down and hugged a railing as I braced for impact. At the last second, just before the guns were primed to fire, he swerved out of the way. I watched that terrible knight fly by as the sound of cannons being turned filled the air. The smug look on his face faded once again, watching it fall deeply satisfying despite my precarious position.

“You did that on purpose…” I muttered looking up at Atlas in awe. He deliberately picked that path, so they’d have to adjust their guns before firing at us. This guy was good… Really good…

“Hey, do your hands work?” He shot me an irritated glance.

“Y…yes?” My voice trembled uncontrollably as I spoke.

“Good, light some lanterns and stick them at the front of the ship!” I looked at him confused for a moment too long and his glare sharpened. “I could drive the Asteri through a pinhole with my eyes closed, but that doesn’t mean I want to!”

“Oh! OH!” I jumped to my feet and scurried around moving all the lanterns. Caverns are dark… He needs to be able to see… Once I had all the lanterns lit I waddled back up to the wheel. I watched Atlas drive the ship with strong, steady arms into the cavern. True to my word, the Asteri just fit. He made the whole affair look effortless, almost as if it bored him. He was one of the most amazing helmsmen I had ever seen. My idle staring was cut short by Orion approaching us. Jaxon and Nova were close behind.

“What port does this come out near? The city we left from?” I nodded slowly.

“There’s another cave system on the eastern side of the city slightly larger than this one. We can use it to obscure our movements.”

“We?” Atlas barked causing me to jump slightly.

“You’re not a seasoned sailor. Not to mention we don’t want anything to do with your troubles with the Inquisition. We’re dropping you off at the next port.” With that he started to walk away.

“Wait!” He stopped and turned to look at me. Okay… We’re waiting… What are we waiting for exactly? CRAP! I should have thought of something first.

“What?” Now even Orion looked a bit miffed.

“It’s an astrolabe so it probably relates to something in the stars. That means this whole thing is just one big misunderstanding! I need to clear my name, so the Inquisition leaves me alone!” I explained quickly as I looked around the ship. “If you can take me to the College of Cardinals I can plead my case!”

“You want us to take you to Rome?” Orion asked skeptically. “Rome is nowhere near our next job.” I tried not to let them see how crestfallen I was. Come on! Think! These are bounty hunters and mercenaries! There must be something I can do to convince them.

“My Father was the leader of a shipbuilding guild!” I blurted out suddenly. They all turned their attention back to me. Save for Atlas who was steering the ship idly with one foot better than I imagined most people could do with both hands. “I may not look it,” I continued on apprehensively, but I know my way around a boat. I can build the, fix them, design them. Plus I’m well-versed in map reading, navigation. I know the coastal topography of most of the northern Mediterranean.” YES! SELL YOURSELF! Wait… that makes me sound like… NOT THE TIME! Focus!

“What are you suggesting exactly?” Orion looked intrigued and I felt relieved.

“If you take me to Rome I’ll act as your navigator and ship maintenance person for… Five years!” That’s a good number, right?”

“We don’t need a navigator or a ship maintenance person.” Atlas grumbled.

“There is a job in Greece. You have until then to prove your worth. If you’re pulling your weight, we’ll evaluate a trip to Rome.” Orion answered definitely. From nearby Atlas was string obscenities together under his breath again.

Once we were out of the caverns, Nova took over for Atlas. It was a beautiful crimson twilight outside and the stars would be out soon. “Oh um…” Atlas stopped his descent down the stairs and turned to look at me incredulously. “Where exactly will I be staying?” Atlas rolled his eyes and motioned for me to follow him. He led me down the hatch into the hold. I looked around confused as he approached one of the cargo nets.

“Aren’t the crew’s quarters usually in the forecastle?” You know… under the elevated deck at the front of the ship?

“There’s no more rooms up there so you’re sleeping down here.” He offered a curt explanation before turning to leave.

“It’s getting a little cold in here, don’t you think?” Though I said as much, I hardly expected more than the sigh I received. I’m not sure how much time had gone by as I took off my shoes and settled drop in the rope hammock. I had started staring idly out a nearby port hole completely wallowing in self-pity when something heavy and course plunked down on my head.

“Anything else, Princess?” I could already hear the heavy plunk of his boots on the wood floor before I said a word.

“Thank you!” I called out to his retreating form. As the events of the day raced through my head, they all kept circling back to that completely unreadable man. On the one hand, it felt like he could not be any more inconvenienced by my presence on his ship. On the other hand, it seemed almost as if he might actually care about my plight. Whatever the case may be, I would have plenty of time to get to know him better even if I only made it as far as Greece.

Save for a nocturnal visitation from something I’m told is a capybara named Comet, an unspeakably large rodent the crew picked up in South America at some point, the days that followed were pretty laid back. Thankfully, I had managed to escape detention with a spare change of clothes more fitting for life on a ship. Boots and pants were certainly were easier to move around in, but I still wore the corset so I could keep the astrolabe close at hand. I spent most of my free time when I wasn't navigating trying to decipher the inscription.

I started to fit myself into life on the Asteri. Fixing broken ropes, mending sails, patching holes in the planks by day. At night I would calculate our course by the stars. Atlas was usually on the quarter deck, lounging by the wheel. I seriously wondered if he ever slept. Every night he would be drinking a dark liquor from the galley while his eyes seemed to focus on something intangible. I always wondered what it was he was looking at, but never worked up the courage to pry.

Sometimes I would make the excuse that I was having trouble with a calculation to drum up a conversation with him. He was not much of a conversationalist. Prying information out of him was like pulling a rusty nail out of a pitch-soaked board. Hard, messy work. I had the feeling though, as with the nail, eventually all the hard work would pay off.

Still, no matter what I said or how I said it, he always seemed to have a sarcastic retort to put an end to the conversation. I gathered from how the other members of the crew approached him this was just his way. That didn't stop me from wondering if he'd ever open up to me like he did them.

I had picked up bits and pieces from conversations with the crew. Atlas had once been affiliated with the Knights of Saint John. The Knights of Saint John were basically the seafaring arm of the Catholic church. The Order's primary goal was to combat the pillaging of Christian vessels and lands by the North African Barbary corsairs who were Muslim. It seemed like a pretty admirable thing to do seeing as the Barbary corsairs and been pillaging the coasts of several Christian nations including my own. Something must have happened while he served for them that didn't sit well with him. I had no idea what it could be though. Tonight felt like a good night to try a different approach.

“Atlas...” I hummed out the name idly as I took stock of our position. He didn't look at me which was fine. I was really just trying to fill the silence with something besides the lonely lapping of water against the hull. “That's a very strong name. In mythology Atlas was the being that held the whole sky on his shoulders. That's quite the burden to bare alone...”

“It's the name I was born with. Don't go getting all philosophical on me.” He huffed before taking a swig of his drink right from the bottle. Well that didn't work quite the way I had hoped.

“I'm just trying to get to know you better as a member of the crew.”

“When you're a member of the crew, maybe I'll tell you about the time I found a stowaway in the cabin.” My face instantly twisted into a pout. I had been excited thinking I was going to at least get an inkling of something else about him only to have that excitement dashed like a ship of the rocks of a foreign coast. My dashed hopes and dreams seemed to be a recurring theme on the Asteri. I looked over at him when he sighed.

“One question. Can't guarantee I'll answer it though.” YES! I did a happy little jig and he let out an even more exasperated sigh. I quickly settled myself and tried to think of a question that would give me a bit of insight into the man without being so probing he wouldn't answer.

“Why did you name your ship the Asteri?” That's pretty good right? The name of a ship is usually meaningful in some way, but still not prodding too much? I hope? Atlas's reaction was not encouraging though. He sat up straight before knocking the bottle back and taking the last of the liquid in a few hard swallows. Then he corked the bottle. With one smooth swipe of his hand he wiped the residue from his lips. Damn if he wasn't even more attractive in the moonlight. But the moonlight seemed to give his features a melancholy look.

“There's nothing up there among the stars.” He started to explain as his face tilted up to the sky. “No people, no religions, no wars. Just stars.” There was an unmistakable sadness that passed over his face for a blink and you'd miss it moment. “That's what the Asteri is meant to be. A place where none of the things that divide people exist.”

“That's... a beautiful sentiment.”

“Only if you believe religion divides people more than it brings them together.” I didn't know how to respond to him. I certainly had my own thoughts on religion. Clearly now was not the time or place to discuss them with him.

“How's our heading looking?” He asked looking down at me as he got to his feet.

“Good... It looks good. We'll be in Greece before week's end if the weather holds.” I answered absently, mind still on the last subject.

“Good. Get some rest, kid.” With that, he disappeared down the stairs and towards the forecastle.

 After a few weeks at sea, I had just about figured out the inscription when we put into dry dock in Greece to make repairs to the ship and resupply while Orion, Jaxon, and Nova hunted down the bounty.

It was kind of odd working in silence next to Atlas prying rotten planks away from the hull and replacing them with new. Well let me rephrase that, Atlas pried all the planks off with those well-sculpted arms of his. I just enjoyed the show until he asked for a new one.  We had just finished sealing the repairs with pitch when a commotion pulled our attention to the city.

“Get on the ship...” Atlas commanded giving me a shove towards the rope ladder. It didn't take long before the dry dock was overran by armed men. I spared a glance over my shoulder as I reached for the ladder. Atlas was huddled behind the pile of rotten planks. Despite the fact he could reload and fire his gun a lot faster than the men shooting at us, he was still hopelessly outnumbered. As one man tried to flank him, I decided to do something truly stupid.

“ATLAS! Look out!” I screeched as I barreled towards him brandishing the hammer. One good conk and he was out cold on the ground.

“Nice hit, Kid. Now get over here!” With one solid yank I was behind the pile, though positioned squarely on Atlas's broad, strong chest. Now is definitely not the time to be appreciating his physique! I quickly rolled off him and made myself as small as possible while he shot over me.

“Who are these guys anyways?! They're not from the Inquisition!” I screeched as I held my ears.

“Might as well be! They’re Knights of saint John! The seaborne equivalent of the Inquisition. “

“But why are they shooting at us?! We aren't Muslims!”

“You think they care about stuff like that? Half their boats are manned by Christian convicts forced into servitude as their sentence!” Just as Atlas fired his last shot, and things were looking hopeless, one of the Asteri's cannons fired knocking most of the remaining Knights into the air.

“You're late!” Atlas yelled as he rolled over on his back and stared up at the ship.

“Better late than never!” Jaxon yelled back as he removed his hat and gave us a dramatic bow.

“Get on the ship. And stay on it this time.” Atlas gave me another firm shove and I took off running for the ladder again. Atlas on the other hand went running for the gate holding the water out of the dry dock. He quickly cranked the doors open as Nova manned the helm. I was barely able to out climb the rising water on the shifting, unstable ladder. When my feet finally found the deck again, my eyes searched for Atlas. At last, I saw him standing on the end of the seawall.

“He's not... Is he?” I wondered aloud, a question answered by him backing up a few steps and getting a runny go. Then he jumped landing on one of the rope ladders into the rigging. I let out an unsteady breath, though I'm not sure why I had been so anxious in the first place.

“I’m getting too old for this!” He grumbled as he tossed and turned until he was off the ladder. “Why are the Knights of Saint John after us?” He sighed as he trudged to the wheel, relieving Nova.

“It appears the Asteri and all its crew were branded as Muslims and members of the Barbary corsairs. There were wanted posters for us in town.” Nova explained the situation in a straightforward, level tone. The calmness of her voice did nothing to keep my heart from sinking into my stomach. The crew looked to me and I fidgeted with the astrolabe in my corset nervously.

“Do you have any idea what that thing is supposed to lead to?” Orion pressed me with a stern look.

“The inscription is coded, and I haven't been able to crack the code. I was able to figure out who made it and where he worked out of though. If I can get there I might be able to find a copy of the cipher.”

“Where?”

“Rhodes.” I answered excitedly. Atlas's normal scowl became even more irritated.

“Absolutely not!”

“It's not really that far from here! If we can figure out exactly what this astrolabe is for it will help clear all our names!” I pressed the issue, but Atlas wasn't budging.

“Rhodes is where the Knights of Saint John operate out of.” Atlas’s voice spoke volumes more than his words ever could.

“If nothing else we can use it as leverage to get what we need to get out of the Mediterranean until things die down.” Orion sighed. Atlas looked beyond done with the whole situation. “Do you know exactly where to go once we get there?”

“The town Archangelos on the eastern side.” Atlas heaved out another sigh when I said this.

“As long as you’re in and out quickly and avoid the castle it should be fine.” He was already moving to change our course. With Orion’s approval, I headed down to the cabin to plot our course. Anxiety played at my nerves as I charted our course. Atlas was a former Knight of Saint John, so he knew the island well. He wouldn’t have agreed so readily if he thought it would be extremely dangerous to go. His judgment had been sound so far and I was going to trust it when it came to this.

To be continued...

I’m just going to apologize now for the level of History nerdom that went into this. I tried to explain all the references as they appear, but if you have any questions or want more information on something, please feel free to ask.

I also apologize for the characterization being off. Atlas is not the type of character I normally write well, so I was trying to challenge myself. I will work on improving it as I finish the rest of this.

Thank you to the organizers of this event, to Voltage and the Lovestruck app developers, and everyone that went into creating the source material!