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ayamari-no-goshi · 4 years ago

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Verboten 5 | (T)

ff.net | AO3

Fandom: Danny Phantom (DP)

Summary: AU. When Danny was five years old, he went missing for 2 weeks. In the years that follow, his family tried to make sense of what happened, only for the truth to be discovered years later.

Warnings: rated T for violence, mentions of death, language. Be prepared for some very weird things.

Chapter warning: there be death and blood. Tread at your own risk

Parings: Danny/Sam

Notes: originally uploaded to Ff.net. Cross-posted to AO3 and tumblr. This fic is very heavily inspired by folklore surrounding mysterious wilderness disappearances

Chapter 5

"Yo, Fenturd, funny seeing you here."

"Last time I checked, our entire class is supposed to be on this trail. I don't know why you're so surprised," Danny quipped before he could stop himself.

Dash grabbed him by the front of his shirt. "What was that?"

"Could you deal with your beef with this loser later? I'm all sweaty and getting covered in dirt. My designer clothes will get ruined at this point," the one girl, Paulina whined. The other girls in the group, her satellites, quickly tried to comfort her.

Danny caught sight of the scowl on Sam's face as she took a step forward. His friend held distain for the popular girls on the best of days, but it was situations like this which really upset her. They didn't care about anyone outside of their group, and often stood by and laughed as the jocks bullied others.

Paulina, who was the unspoken queen of their grade, was often outspoken about girls who she thought was beneath her, but she had also begun her own form of bullying in their sophomore year. She used her beauty to make guys fall for her and give her items. Once she was finished using them, she often publically embarrassed them or had Dash and his cronies throw a few punches. She had tried to go after Danny once, but after encountering his parents and their eccentricities once, she wanted nothing more to do with him.

"Can't I at least get one punch in?" Dash requested as he sized up Danny. "I mean, this is my last year to wail on him."

"You can't argue with that," Zack added as he crossed his arms and leaned against a nearby tree. "Why deny a man a simple pleasure?"

"Fine, but hurry it up," Paulina finally agreed as she and her friends moved to the side.

"You hear her. Grab him," Dash instructed has he pushed Danny backwards. He barely had time to catch himself before his arms were grabbed by two of the jocks.

Before he had a chance to throw his punch, Kwan grabbed his shoulder. "Hey, is this really the best place to do this? That one Ranger wasn't that far behind us."

"So?"

"Your buddy has a point," Sam spat as Tucker tried to hold her back. It was clear she was itching to hit someone in the shin with her combat boot. "If a Ranger catches you assaulting someone, not only could you lose your spot on the football team, you could get jail time."

Before Dash could make his decision, a scream rang out through the area. Everyone glanced around, but it didn't seem as if anyone found anything unusual. "Didn't that sound like Mikey?" Tucker asked after a moment.

"Drop him. That will definitely draw attention we don't want," Dash told his friends. "Mikey was up ahead of us, wasn't he?"

"I think so. Why?" Kwan questioned.

"We should go check on our other punching bag. Make sure he's not too hurt. Besides, maybe we'll learn something we can use to scare him with later. Come on." He beckoned them forward as he began following the trail again. The girls quickly followed him. The jocks holding Danny shared a look before letting him go.

"Hey, are you alright?"

Danny looked up to see Kwan watching him. "Yeah. I know you were trying to help out there. Thanks."

The football player nodded before he ran after his friends. Although Danny didn't exactly trust Kwan, he knew that he was a much kinder person than most of Dash's friends. Kwan really didn't want to be involved with the bullying, but was forced to go along with it for reasons Danny didn't quite understand.

"Do you think we should follow them?" Danny turned to see his friend's responses.

"Absolutely not!" Tucker shouted before Sam could respond. "Dude, didn't you notice that Dash is in one of his moods?"

"You're such a coward, Tucker." Sam grabbed his arm and began pulling him along the path. "He could need our help."

"Or we could get beaten to a pulp too."

"I'm with Sam on this one." When Tucker sent him a look a betrayal, Danny amended, "I mean, we don't have to get close if nothing is wrong, but if they need help, we can go get a Ranger. Didn't Kwan mention there should be one not too far away?"

"Fine, but don't expect me to get killed along with you."

…..

After a few minutes of walking, Danny and his friends first caught sight of Dash and his friends. They seemed to just be staring at something in the woods. The girls were nowhere nearby. Mikey was sitting on the ground at their feet and was crying inconsolably.

"What… what should we do?" Tucker whispered as they hid behind a nearby tree and monitored the situation.

The hair on the back of Danny's neck felt as if it was standing on end. As soon as they got to this area, something felt extremely wrong. "Although this goes against my desire for self-preservation, something's not right."

"You noticed it too?" Sam asked as she stepped out from around the tree and approached the group. "Hey! What's wrong?" Danny and Tucker shared a look before they followed her.

Mikey noticed them first. His glasses were somewhat foggy because of his tears. "Lester…" he choked out.

"What about Lester? Mikey, talk to us." Danny kneeled down so his distraught classmate wouldn't have to look up at him.

"He… he… we lost sight of him for just a moment," Mikey whispered as he grabbed Danny by the arms. His wide eyes almost made him look insane. "He didn't answer when we called him, and we didn't see any signs of him. After… after searching and not seeing him… Jimmy and Clark went off to tell Mr. Lancer. I stayed put just in case… Then… then something fell over there… and… and…" The sob that escaped the boy was somewhere in between a scream and absolute despair.

"What are you talking about? What happened?"

"Danny… I think you need to see something," Sam whispered as she shook his shoulder.

After gently prying Mikey's hands off of him, he stood up and looked at his friends. Both were incredibly pale, which was quite the feat for Tucker due to his naturally dark skin. Sam glanced at him before she pointed at something off the trail. At first, he had no idea what he was supposed to see, but after a moment, a soft dripping sound caught his attention. As he focused on that, he felt his blood run cold.

The dripping was coming from blood falling from a figure in a tree that was about thirty yards off. After a moment, he realized the figure was Lester. It almost looked as if someone had thrown him onto the branches, but with how limp his figure was and the strange pallor of his skin, Danny was convinced he was dead.

The sound of retching caught his attention. He turned to see Tucker wiping his mouth as he weakly straightened his posture. "That's… that's so messed up."

"We… we need to get help," Danny stammered as he glanced at the jocks. They all seemed to be in a trance. He snapped his fingers in front of Kwan's face. "Hey, hey! Come on! Snap out of it." The jock shook his head for a moment and glanced around before stumbling backwards into Dash. That seemed to break the rest of them out of their trance.

After a moment of confusion, Dash spotted Danny and once again grabbed him by the shirt. "Alright, Fenturd, you better have a good explanation of what happened!"

"Get off of me!" he snapped as he wrestled out of Dash's grip. "I don't know what happened either. You got here first, remember? I do know we need to alert the Rangers."

"Dash, what happened to the girls?" Lucas asked as he glanced around before he glared at Danny and his friends. "If you losers did anything to them…!"

"We haven't seen them since we got here," Sam replied as tried to help Mikey stand. He wasn't complying and had opted to stare at the ground. "Tucker, what are you doing? Don't tell me you're taking pictures."

"I am," he shakily told her as he tapped his phone. "I… I still can't get a signal. This way… we have a record of where we are… and, what the?!" As he spoke, another scream broke the silence of the forest.

"That sounded like Star!" Kwan yelled as he took off to investigate.

"Hey, wait up!" The rest of the football players quickly ran after him leaving Danny, Sam, and Tucker alone with Mikey, who still seemed dazed.

"I vote we try to get back to camp." Tucker had put his phone away and was glancing around nervously.

Danny nodded as he and Sam picked up Mikey. His frame was small and lanky, so he thankfully didn't weigh too much. Although he wasn't exactly responding to them, they were able to get him to walk by tugging on his wrist.

The group headed down the path as quickly as possible, but it wasn't fast enough for Danny's liking. The uneasy feeling he had when they first reached the area where they found Lester hadn't left. It felt like they were being watched and followed, and it made him want to run. As uncool as it was, he wanted to run away as fast as possible, but he couldn't leave his friends alone with whatever was lurking out there. He also couldn't just leave Mikey.

A glance at the shocked boy told Danny that he was having a hard time processing exactly what happened to his friend. Although Danny really couldn't say that he and Mikey were friends, he knew the boy enough to know that he and Lester were almost like brothers. It was understandable he couldn't function after witnessing that, but he really did wish the boy would move faster. They needed to get to a safer location, preferably sooner than later.

"Are we going to talk about it?" Sam hesitantly asked as they moved.

"Nah uh. No way. We're still out in the woods with something without any adults around. You saw what happened!" Tucker sounded frantic as he looked around the area.

"It can wait until we get back to camp," Danny agreed as he kept his eyes on the trail. A strange noise caught his attention, and after a moment, he stopped to listen.

"Dude, what are you doing? You can't stop now."

Danny shushed him as he listened. A strange sound, almost like a bird call but almost metallic, was coming from somewhere behind them. He turned to see if he could catch sight of whatever the source was, but he didn't notice anything out of the ordinary. After a few moments, the bird call was joined by the sound of rustling wings, but that also sounded almost metallic as there was a strange buzz to it.

"It's back!" Mikey suddenly shouted, causing the rest of them to jump. He then wrestled out of Sam and Danny's grips before he took off down the trail.

"Mikey! Come back! What's back?" Before Danny had a chance to go after him, Sam grabbed his arm and pointed to something in the trees.

A silvery flash caught his attention. As he watched it, he realized it looked like a skeletal bird made from some sort of metal. It finally came to a stop on a tree branch a few yards down the trail from them. Its eyes were an eerie red. After it appraised them, it let out a horrifying screech.

"I see you found the target!" an excited voice rang out from the woods.

Danny and his friends formed a tight circle with their backs on the inside as they scanned the area. No one seemed to be nearby. Other than the sound of the strange bird and their breathing, there were no other sounds. After a moment, a figure emerged from shadows of the forest.

The figure was the size of a young child and was carrying something over its shoulders. As it came closer, they could tell that it looked like a young boy, expect his skin was abnormally white, seemed to have green hair, and it almost seemed like he was glowing.

"Is that Mikey?" Tucker whispered as he pointed to what the strange glowing figure had over its shoulder.

"Get away from him!" Danny shouted, uncertain if it was even able to understand him.

"And what are you going to do about it?" The boy laughed as he watched them. "I was told I could take a playmate if I helped Plasmius get his target, so I'm not giving him back!"

"What should we do?" Tucker whispered as he took a few steps backwards. "I don't know what that thing is, but I don't think that's a person."

"I think you're right, but we need to help Mikey," Danny told him. "But I have no idea how to safely do that." Before he had a chance to make a decision, Sam threw a few rocks at the strange boy. However, they passed through him without any damage.

He stuck his tongue out at the group. "That was mean, but luckily for me, stuff like that can't do any damage." A devilish grin crossed his face as his hand began to glow a sickly green. "Although I'm not allowed to touch Plasmius' target, I'm allowed to have some fun with anyone else who gets trapped."

"Run?"

"Run!" Danny and Sam yelled in response to Tucker's question. The three of them quickly ran off down the trail.

As they moved, the forest around them seemed to grow darker and more menacing as the trail became harder to follow. After what felt like hours, the three of them finally came to a stop in a decently sized clearing as Tucker and Danny had reached their limit.

"Guys, I don't think this is normal." At Sam's strange statement, the boys looked at their surroundings. The trees appeared dead and were a strange and unnatural gray color. The sky above them was a radioactive green mixed in with swirls of a neon purple.

Someone behind them began clapping. They turned to see a figure wearing white approach them from the trees. Instead of being a child like the previous one, this one was clearly an adult male. Its skin was a sickly blue, and its dark hair almost looked like horns.

"You've led me on a merry chase," it told them. Its voice was cultured and confident. Danny caught a glimpse of fangs as it spoke "However, I was only supposed to take one of you. What exactly should I do with the extras?"

"You could let us go. Pretty please?" When Danny and Sam shot Tucker an incredulous look, he quickly defended himself. "What? It doesn't hurt to ask."

"I appreciate your attempt at civility," the creature told him. "However, it that is not something I can easily do. You see, it's fairly difficult to bring over more than one human at once with normal techniques. That bird of Youngblood's is something to behold. Its magic is just subtle enough to distract someone just long enough for one of us to take him or her. I must find out if I can get one of my own."

"Where are we? What are you?" Danny demanded, sounding a lot braver than he felt. This things was terrifying.

"It's rather rude to ask that, but you're clearly frightened, so allow me to explain. "I am called Plasmius, and this is the realm of the dead."

===========================

Note: shout out to anyone who caught my unintentional Superman reference.

For the international readers, 1 yard is about 91 centimeters, and 1 foot is approximately 30.5 centimeters.

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writteninsunshine · 5 years ago

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Heavenly Bodies - Sephiroth/Genesis Rhapsodos - SFW

Title: Heavenly Bodies Author: Donnie Fandom: Final Fantasy VII Setting: Shinra Training Room Pairing: Sephiroth/Genesis Rhapsodos Characters: Sephiroth, Genesis Rhapsodos, Angeal Hewley Genre: Romance Rating: T Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 791 Type of Work: One-Shot Status: Complete Warnings: Gay, Slash, Yaoi, MLM, Pre-Slash, Fluff, Genesis has a bit of an obsession, Vague Soulmate AU Disclaimer: I don’t own anything. Summary: Genesis needed something more than just watching Sephiroth train. AN: Hey guys, it’s me again! Just thought I ought to say, if you want vague updates and to talk to me more, I have Twitter and Tumblr, too! Twitter is Sunshinecackle, and Tumblr is Writteninsunshine! I also have a writing Discord that is currently pretty dead. xD I can PM it to people who want it on FFN, for everyone else, it’s here: discord.gg/FyaWw25 Welp, here we are with another fic, I’m really getting through these today. I hope you guys are enjoying all of the updates because I apparently just needed to write a ton. Here we go!

Final Fantasy VII Fic Masterlist Heavenly Bodies ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ There was something effortlessly graceful about how Sephiroth moved. He was a wildcat, all rolling shoulders, and hidden strength, beautiful in the moonlight and a wonder to watch in motion. Genesis found himself pausing in his reading, his pointer finger on the word he’d left off on his only saving grace if he didn’t want to reread the whole section again. Lips parted, he gawked openly until he felt more than heard Angeal settle beside him on the floor of the training room.

“Staring again?” Angeal asked with a soft chuckle, shaking his head, “I can’t tell if he doesn’t notice, or if he likes the attention.” “He is an enigma.” Genesis conceded quietly, blue eyes still locked on their training friend. A soft, contented sigh left him and Angeal cleared his throat as if it might yank Genesis’ attention away from his point of interest. When it didn’t, he waved a gloved hand before the redhead’s nose, and Genesis turned tepid attention on his best friend, eyes flicking back to Sephiroth every so often. “He might be an enigma, but he has your wrapt attention. Perhaps someday you’ll have him figured out.” “You know what they say, moth to a flame, and all that,” Genesis replied flippantly, waving dismissively as he shrugged, eyes finding their way back to a shimmer of silver hair. “I think in this case the flame chases the moth,” Angeal replied carefully, turning his eyes back to Sephiroth’s training, trying and failing to find what had his friend so engrossed. Sephiroth was a truly foreboding opponent, sure, but Genesis’ interest sunk deeper than that. Pursing his lips and crossing his arms, he watched through his peripheries as Genesis finally closed his favorite copy of Loveless, leaving it in his lap, untouched. What was he planning? “I could talk to him for you. If anyone is capable of selling you as a potential date--” Angeal began, only to be cut off by Genesis lifting his hand and waving the idea away like a foul odor. “It should be me, wouldn’t you think?” Genesis asked, finally turning his full attention on Angeal. There it was, the same flame in his eyes that he often let envelop his hands. “I’d say I should be the one to ‘sell’ me to him.” After all, it only went without saying that nobody held Genesis on a pedestal higher than himself. “I… Suppose you have a valid point.” Angeal nodded softly, watching as the simulation gave way to glittering blue light. Sephiroth’s hand pushed through his hair, damp with sweat, and Genesis couldn’t help the quirk of his lips. Angeal knew that look; Whatever he said from this point on, if it wasn’t his absolute approval, was going to be ignored. “I recommend you take this--” “I know what I’m doing,” Genesis replied easily, shifting forward to rise to his feet. He walked to Sephiroth, feeling a tug to him like gravity. He wanted to say something, anything, but his hand moved before he could stop it. Cupping Sephiroth’s cheek, he pulled the other man in for a gentle kiss, asking for permission without his words. Sephiroth went still, at first, surprise flooding him as his eyes went wide. His pupils widened slightly as he returned the kiss, finally, just before Genesis pulled away and spoke his mind. Both hands moved to the redhead’s cheeks and he tugged him in closer like he could swallow him whole, and Genesis didn’t mind. Angeal, for all of his support for his friends, decided it best that he leave them to themselves, watching them only until he let the door slide closed behind him. It didn’t seem to even cross their radar, but he knew they were busy with each other. Genesis had a one-track mind often. After a few minutes, Sephiroth pulled away with a soft smirk on his kiss swollen lips, and Genesis lingered, following his mouth. “Did you truly need to wait so long to do this?” Sephiroth asked, petting his thumbs over the other’s cheekbones. “I was unsure if you would respond.” And he hadn’t, at first. “I didn’t want to ruin my chances to be close to you.” “Now, you can be as close to me as you like.” Sephiroth smiled then, gentle and genuine. Genesis felt his heart rate increase and he kissed him again, chaste. “Thank you.” He whispered, stepping into the other’s arms and hugging him tightly. “I couldn’t stand not being with you.” “I know… I feel the same way.” Sephiroth held him close, kissing the top of his head and petting a hand through his red hair. This was what being whole felt like, he knew that even if he’d never considered love. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ AN: Welp, it’s a little short but I really like how this came out. I wasn’t sure about it at first. I hope you liked it! Prompt: Perigee - The point in the orbit of a heavenly body, especially the moon, or of an artificial satellite at which it is nearest to the earth.

#Final Fantasy VII Fanfic #Final Fantasy VII Fanfiction #Final Fantasy VII Sephesis #Sephesis #Sephiroth #Genesis Rhapsodos #Angeal Hewley

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smokingbomber · 6 years ago

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The Physician #1

“Medice, cura te ipsum.”

Title: The Physician Author: smokingbomber@tumblr & ao3 Fandom: Sailor Moon Era: Silver Millennium Rating: M Characters: Prince Endymion Genre: Horror, Apocalyptic Warning(s): Contains gore Wordcount: 1324

It was dark and cold, and the air was too dry, too thin. Now and then a solitary snowflake hit his skin, not cold at all-- and his chest hurt terribly, and he felt sticky and wrong. Something soft, cold, and heavy lay atop him, and with rather more effort and pain than it should have taken, he managed to shove it off. There. He could breathe.

Endymion rolled to one side, away from the cold weight he'd just pushed off of himself, and lifted his hand to heal whatever wound was making his chest hurt. The warm and golden glow of his power lit his hand, and he glanced in front of him reflexively. He immediately wished he hadn't: there was sunny Jadeite, clouded blue eyes empty and glassy, staring into eternity. Dried blood coated his neck and uniform, almost managing to hide the ragged pale flesh of his sliced-open throat, and it pooled, congealing, on the ground beneath him.

He felt like retching, but reached forward with his glowing hand anyway, automatically acting as if there were any hope. He knew there wasn't, but he didn't want to go insane, and going through the motions would help--

--his heart reached out for its beacons, and found them all dark.

(he didn't want to go insane, it was close and clawing at his edges-- any one of his most precious people would have helped him, but they weren't there, they were probably--)

He closed his eyes. No. Focus. He ghosted his fingertips gently across Jadeite's cold forehead, looking with his empathy, with his connection to the blond man, because he knew there'd be no pulse.

Nothing. Jadeite was as much clay as his sculptures, now.

(All of them-- all the connections-- all dark. He couldn't remember how he got to this hellish cold place; he'd been fighting with his guardians, he knew that much. And there had been an emergency, he knew-- had his last words to them been spoken in anger?)

Holding his breath to keep from throwing up, Endymion moved his hand down to close Jadeite's eyes, then withdrew, putting his hand to his chest again. He looked at his wound as he healed it, and realized that it had already been healing-- that it had been deep-- no, it had been fatal. All at once, he remembered, and his heart fluttered and skipped alarmingly; his breath hitched.

This wasn't snow falling, it was ash. The air was thin because they were on the Moon, and the dome had cracked in the attack, everyone had heard it like an echoing thunderclap that drove spikes into ears and hearts alike. It was cold because the life support was failing; it was all powered by magic, by the magic of Serenity's mother. If she no longer maintained it, then-- what would happen? Did the Queen live, her crystal only damaged? Was there anything left? Where was Serenity? Surely she must have gotten to safety, her guardians must have shuffled her away--

He remembered Beryl, transformed into a demoness, driving a sword through his chest when he couldn't dash it aside or parry it. He remembered why he couldn't dodge, either, and realized with a sick, dead feeling in the pit of his stomach...

...just what he must have shoved off of his chest. Cold, soft, heavy-- but not so very heavy-- and feeling uncomfortably like a body. His fingertips had been too numb with cold to take in the texture of whatever cloth the weight had been tangled in.

Endymion slowly picked himself up and turned, heart in his mouth.

Serenity, like a porcelain doll, snow white skin and gown and silver hair caked dark with her own blood and his, mingled. With an absurdly insulting breeze from the air escaping the dome, a few strands of bright silver lifted and settled again, and her face was composed, streaked with salt silver tears. Her eyes were closed already; she might have been sleeping but for the blood and stillness.

She lay where she'd fallen when he'd pushed her off of him, and Endymion's stomach turned, and he couldn't look away, he shouldn't, he hadn't saved her after all, and he-- he let himself look away.

That was a mistake, too. Venus and Kunzite both lay dead beyond her, swords buried in each other, metal turned to stone; Jupiter sprawled broken just past them, Nephrite's body beneath her, his hands turned to burnt-tipped claws reaching toward nothing-- who knew where beautiful Zoisite was, where Mars and Mercury had fallen-- and all around, the dead waited to be seen, remembered. Corpses of the people he knew and loved most, bodies of the unprepared subjects of the Silver Millennium; they danced motionlessly with the remains of countless denizens of Earth. It was a still and silent dance, as stately as it was ignominious, and they shared in the death that took them all equally, no matter their potential lifespans.

The Crown Prince of Earth looked up to the sky; it had to be better than looking at this, all this which took pieces of him away with every horror. His beacons were all dark, their hearts stopped and their minds silent, their souls fled-- elsewhere.

The clouds of smoke choking the dome shifted, revealing what was beyond. There was a planet-- could it be his? His, so precious and full of life, so beautiful, that should be like a blue marble in the sky? The planet he saw was grey and black and brown, spotted with immense fires, smoke and pyroclastic dust flooding the atmosphere and and obscuring cities and scorched countryside and choked oceans. It couldn't be Earth, but this was the Moon, and the twinkling stars through the escaping atmosphere were the right ones--

Everyone was dead. His planet was dead. The Moon was dead.

But he, Endymion, by now undoubtedly King of a burning husk choked with ash and death, was alive and alone. He'd died-- he knew he'd died. Hadn't he? Hadn't he felt his life trickle away as his heart tried to beat around the blade buried within it? Hadn't he seen Jadeite die beside him, eyes cleared for the first time in days, panicked and then resolved--? Hadn't he heard Serenity screaming his name behind him, as if at a great distance? Wouldn't she have known?

He didn't feel anything. It was too much. He should close all their eyes, he should find them all in this-- this, he should-- but he can't bury them all, he can't bury all the other people that this-- this thing that was too big, it was all too big, it was--

He shut that part of himself down. He couldn't do anything for anyone here. The entire Moon would have to serve as a tomb, a memorial bright and cold and lifeless in the sky. They'd see it when the ash cleared.

They? There was nothing left here, but-- there might yet be someone alive on Earth, Elysion might be safe, he'd sealed it, and after all-- there was something left to heal him, wasn't there? Would he be alive if Earth were entirely dead? There had to be someone, something-- and if there was, then he had an obligation. He had a duty to his people, to what was left of his planet, even if he had nothing else left in the universe.

As he turned to leave, to go see if there was anything left functioning that could bring him back to Earth, he saw a bright glow suddenly blooming in the dark, blue-white like Mercury's ice, or like the burn of the tiny glittering satellites he'd once seen launched from the Moon while he hid with Serenity, their eyes wide with wonder together. (Don't think of her body behind you. Don't. Don't think.)

Endymion ran toward the light.

#the physician #sailor moon fanfiction #silver millennium #horror #smokingbomber writing #prince endymion

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steve0discusses · 6 years ago

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Yugioh S2 Ep 33: ᵇˡᶦᵐᵖ ʙʟɪᴍᴘ BLIMP ԀꟽI⅂ꓭ

I usually don’t really do these during weekdays but lets just say today was a day where I felt the need for a healthy distraction.

Ah, it is episode 33. There are...so many episodes in a Yugioh season, guys. I was just not aware. But, here we are at episode 33 and we are finally going to start the finals.

For reals this time, no one’s going to get engaged, no one’s going to randomly murder a bunch of people. We are officially starting the finals this episode.

Sort of.

Man, Kaiba and his butterfly-wing shoulderpads. Sometimes it just looks like he’s just going to gently flutter away.

Also in this stadium with Kaiba and Mokuba is Marik and Odion, who is just as confused as to where the hell everyone went and why the hell Mai just flew by being carried off by a ninja in a jet pack. The hours it must have taken to wait for Yugi’s crew to walk 2 single blocks was enough time for Marik to formulate yet another back-up plan. I want to say this is plan #9.

It’s a good thing Pharaoh can’t read anymore, considering that Marik’s just walking around in a crop hoodie with a tattoo that just reads “SEASON 2 SPOILERS, PHARAOH, DO NOT READ” in hieroglyphs.

But if you wait long enough, even Yugi and his friends will accidentally wander the correct direction and actually show up.

(read more under the cut)

Not a joke, this is actually an unfinished public works project, congratulations, Kaiba Corps, there is nothing that Kaiba won’t try and then fail at, at least once.

Anyways, this shady-as-hell unfinished stadium seems kind of like a good place to get murdered and then tossed into a cement slab. Which honestly, would have been a very likely end to this season, considering what we have been through so far.

Marik decides to sneak around the bleachers, probably on all fours so no one would spot him, jump out a window, and then come in through the front door like he’s not been here this entire time. As he did, apparently he made everything very, very windy. In fact, everyone with a millennium item brought with them a spooooooky gust of wind except I think Yugi, who is probably too short to pull that one off.

Yugi did manage to get the vibe of “something bad is coming” before Marik entered the field, but like...there’s so many bad things at this point, Yugi. So many people that could be. It feels like that might be half the cast. You could say that at any given moment in this season and be absolutely right.

So, after possessing Tea for a second, for...some reason? Did she need threatening? Anyway, after doing that, Namu is in with the gang because literally nothing will prevent Yugi from becoming a friend with you, especially if you are trying to hide the fact that you just tried to kill him by drowning him in the ocean.

Funny how instead of them asking how the hell Namu got away from cultists, they have to fixate on the mystery of “is Bakura good at cards!?” because, and I kinda forgot about this, I guess they don’t remember the last time they saw Bakura play. How far up their own ass is Yugi and Joey to assume that just because Bakura doesn’t brag about cards all day, that Bakura hasn’t been equally good at cards? They kind of deserve this.

Yeah and PS Kaiba absolutely did not check the satellite to get the DL on why the hell Bakura got so many cards. Dayjob Saruman I guess went home for the evening so...although that shadow game was definitely being recorded on a computer, we’ll never know what that mess looked like on Kaiba’s end. Like there’s just three duel disks covered in ectoplasm hanging out in the cemetery and no one seems to have noticed?

Like for a competition that was huge about security and tech, they only seemed to watch the God Cards players and then Mokuba randomly monitored Joey Wheeler for some reason. That was it. That was all the people the Kaiba’s cared about.

So although Marik and Odion and Bakura could probably take on everyone right now. Like riiiight now. They decide not to because, well, I nearly forgot about someone that I was really looking forward to seeing again, that’s right, my favorite boy!

AW THERE HE IS!

to quote one of my actual favorite earworms,

youtube

Where has this big boy been hiding!? He’s freakin ginormous, but apparently he was just hiding behind a soft cloud or something, in anticipation of this grand reveal in a very sketch unfinished stadium that’s probably being used to bet on bum fights.

Mokuba gets excited for the first time since...I don’t remember if Mokuba’s ever actually been excited before. Like I’m digging through my memories here and no, Mokuba’s been mostly abducted, angry, bored, or scared, this is the first time he’s exuded that pure pre-teen energy.

PS a blimp’s max flying height is 1500 ft, and what surprised me the most about this was realizing that this entire time we’ve been watching this show, we’ve been getting measurements in US metrics. Didn’t realize that before today.

Also, on my wikipedia deep dive into blimps, I found out that like...this is probably not a “blimp,” but actually a semi-rigid airship but...I’m gonna keep calling it a blimp. Don’t @ me, blimp fandom on tumblr.

It’s so good to see more Blimp. Even though...probably the worst place to throw a tourney? Like...how many people are you even gonna fit in there? Like...is this televised? I mean I don’t know how Kaiba’s marketing works for this, honestly, he took over every TV in the city to get people to join this tourney, and now that it’s in full swing no one can watch it?

Whatever, it’s a blimp.

Duke Devlin is still here, despite the fact that I don’t think he’s going to do anything for the rest of this season. I guess they had to promote that gameboy game so his face will just be in the background always although as a dice player he um...he has no purpose here.

In fact it makes no sense, he works with Pegasus who straight up killed Mokuba and Kaiba like a month ago, why are they just letting him on their airship? Whatever.

I dunno, maybe there’s more that Duke will do eventually, but he just seemed like a replacement for Bakura at first--and Bakura’s back now, so why’s he still here?

Ishizu is here, and while every other time we’ve seen Ishizu, she’s been talking our ears off, the one time she should probably say something, she instead decides to lock herself inside her bedroom and avoid everyone.

I guess she was mostly avoiding Marik so they don’t have a sibling laser fight in the hull of a Blimp. That would have made things so awkward for Yugi and Bakura. Especially Yugi, who still doesn’t know that thing around his neck shoots freakin lasers.

Props the background artists who had to draw billions of small little buildings AKA the worst background in the world to draw. I will go through hoops to avoid drawing even a single building, but to have to sit down and paint just a whole page of buildings that someone’s going to smack a foreground on anyway? Mad respect. If you look closely you’ll see that this artist had to use a ruler and perspective and other annoying tools that take up time and energy. Even using editing tools like using blocks of black color to imitate the look of rooftops and crowded structures, it probably took them a few hours to make the background that went in a .2 second scene.

They’ll probably reuse these buildings later, don’t get me wrong, but oi, I feel for them in my carpel tunnel bones.

Seto keeps telling Yugi that they’re rivals but I don’t think anyone on this show other than Joey thinks of Seto as much of a rival at all. You almost feel a little bad for him, like he’s in a weird...hate triangle, but very much on the loosing end of it.

Next we get a good look at Kaiba’s interior design decisions, and much like his mansions, it’s a lot of very unexpected soothing pastels. Like this is a lot of seafoam blue. How can someone so angry make something so grandma-zen? Is it actually Kaiba’s grandmother who is just slapping down all these paint chips when he’s not looking? I mean it’s got muted pink stools even, with a makeup station.

Tea, Tristan, and Duke have no rooms to go to because they aren’t actually part of this competition, so they’re just squatting around until they’ll probably all end up crashing with Mokuba, the only other person who is not dueling in this competition. Reminds me a lot of the first week of college, where everyone is just coasting dorm room to dorm room and there’s like 10 people there who actually don’t actually go there but want to hang out with their high school friends and they just end up sleeping in your room for 7 days until they read your other friend’s diary, get hella indignant, and then storm off back to California. My apologies to my Freshman year roommate who had to put up with all that girl drama.

And because it’s this show, the men and their bottomless stomachs decide to raid the smallest little mini fridge and you wouldn’t believe what takes up about 1/4 of it

There is so many cheese wheels in this Japanese show, guys. So, I felt like doing a quick google search of Japan and Cheese and it’s just a bunch of ex-pats talking about how the European cheeses most of us are familiar with is harder to find in Japan. So, maybe that’s why? It's a status symbol that he can find round cheeses?

But even if you can only get your hands on a 30$ Swiss wheel every so often (because that really is just Swiss cheese, like lets be real.) how much Swiss cheese can one man eat??? Especially since, looking closely, there is not a single baguette here. No man can eat that much cheese without a bread!

Sorry, stuffing your face full of free cheese you pulled out of your friend’s mini-fridge is also giving me vivid flashbacks to my Freshman year of college.

Also little edit--just realized that flag is flipped 90 degrees from French so that’s probably a Holland flag? Although I looked up European flags and there is...none that have that color order so I don’t know which country they were originally going for.

YO I just realized there’s no curtains on any of these pelvis-height level windows. So, you can’t sleep because of the lights, and you can’t change into pajamas because like--the whole city will see.

Kaiba does seem like the type that would on purpose not install any curtains on any of the windows he’s ever owned, though.

Keto is gone, and now we just have Roland, who is probably too terrified to ever abduct the Kaibas by picking them up by the neck with one arm.

Anyway, in case you were wondering--since the show has decided to make a huge fuss over card prep time--how can they prep for a card game if they only have the cards they brought with them and they don’t know what the other people are even playing or which person they’re playing first?

Kaiba did nothing. He sat there and thought “If Yugi doesn’t even put that God Card in his deck this entire tourney will be absolutely pointless.”

Mai took little sips of milk. Probably paired it with Swiss cheese. Just a huge bite out of a wheel of Swiss cheese.

Odion never found the refrigerator.

Marik took a nap on this bed that looks like it’s just made of foam. Why is this the only one on the show who’s like “Youknow, I should sleep at some point.”

And Yugi’s prep involved talking to himself a whole lot, which explains why none of his friends wanted to stay here for that. I doubt very much Yugi kicked him out of the room. He was probably like “no, stay, stay” in that high pitched-low pitched voice combo until they were like “nooooo I don’t want to be present for your daily seance checkup byeeee.” while slowly backing out of the room.

Yo remember that time we were worried about Bandit Keith stealing the puzzle?

Apparently...Pharaoh could have just sort of done that dizzolving thingy and appeared right back on Yugi’s neck.

And remember that time Yugi handed that puzzle to Joey?

Apparently...Pharaoh could have just sneezed and then bam--right back around Yugi’s neck.

Like remember any time this season that we’ve been like “Oh no, the puzzle! We’re gonna lose it!” no that...that was never a problem.

I mean to be fair when it’s dismantled it might not work but um--apparently you can’t lose an item after it’s decided it likes you. At all. Which is kind of weird because Pegasus totally lost that eyeball, and aren’t all these items property of Pharaoh anyway?

I’ll try not to think about it as this rule seems to only really apply to Bakura.

Anyway, next week--I’m pretty sure the finals are indeed actually starting next week. I could be wrong as I have been every single episode but maybe--probably--the finals are actually going to start. We shall see.

#Yugioh #yugioh recap #photo recap #s2 ep33 #yugi muto #marik ishtar #odion #joey wheeler #seto kaiba #kaiba #mokuba #tea gardner #duke devlin #bakura #ishizu ishtar #mai valentine #tristan taylor #serenity wheeler

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sceptilemasterr · 6 years ago

Text

Endless Summer: The (un)Official Screenplay - “End Credits”

Yes, you read that right: this movie script does include an “End Credits” of sorts! Though since there are very few people who actually worked on this script (aka: just me), I’m also going to be including my final thoughts on how the script turned out, where the story’s going from here, what the hell is up with that “CIU Project” tag I keep adding to these, and... in true MCU-style fashion, even an end-credits scene! Or two?

Masterlist: Link

CREDITS:

Written by: SceptileMasterr (obviously)

Based On: Endless Summer, Book 1 by Pixelberry Studios (with some additional elements taken from Hero, Vol 1)

Copyright Info: All names, places, and concepts from Endless Summer and Hero are copyright Pixelberry Studios. The only things I own here are Ian and Alyssa, my various Vaanti OCs, as well as the majority of the Vaanti language except the words taken from canon (conlangs are hard!)

Inspirations:

The MC Twins: @blightarts (go read his Pokemon Summer Version crossover fic where I got that idea from, btw, it’s awesome)

Movie Concept in General: @mysteli and her amazing ES Fan Trailers (both of them!)

Estela and Ian’s First Kiss: Borrowed from another one of my fics, “Sunset”

Screenwriting Software: Final Draft 11

Special Thanks:

@brightpinkpeppercorn: My fandom twin and “beta reader” of sorts; thanks for all the great and fun discussions we had about the twins, their loves, the story, and concepts and future plans; they’ve been great! I love and appreciate your feedback!

@mysteli: You’re the entire reason I started this project! Ever since your first ES trailer I have envisioned what an ES movie would be like. And then my imagination spiraled out of control from there... Appreciate your feedback as well!

@edgydepressedchoicesthot: A fellow Estela stan! I met you even before I had a Tumblr, back on AO3. I read and fell in love with your ES rewrite series there... then school blocked AO3 (grr) but I eventually caught up! I hope you enjoyed this rewrite as much as I liked yours!

@bbaba-yagaa: A more recent fandom friend, but I’m so glad I met you and your blog! I adore your Estela fics so much!

@endlesshero1122: I’m still amazed at how we had such similar ideas with our respective ES and Hero rewrites. Dual MCs and everything, with one of them even being named Alyssa, what are the odds?! Glad you’ve enjoyed this script!

...And of course, everyone not on the tag list who’ve liked, read, and/or commented on this script! Every time I get a new like or comment, it makes me so happy to know that I made someone’s day a little better with this screenplay-rewrite of a visual novel we all know and love. I love writing; I really have a passion for it, and I hope I can continue entertaining people with my future stories to come!

And SPEAKING of future stories...

FADE IN:

INT. THE CELESTIAL LOBBY - DAY

Estela is standing at the concierge desk, gazing at several sheets of paper stacked atop it. The elevator doors open, and Ian emerges, the folders he’d found previously now clutched in his hands. She turns at his approach.

ESTELA: Ian! There you are! Listen, you should see this-

IAN: Look, I... I’ve got something I need to show you. To show everyone, really. Where are they?

ESTELA: I think most of them are still sleeping. Can’t say I blame them, after last... night? Morning? Day? Anyway, look.

Ian crosses over to the desk and looks at the papers. On them, in a messy scrawl, are written several seemingly non-sequitur messages. Ian picks one up and reads it, confused.

IAN: “The Hostiles know.” “McKenzie equals Lupus.” “The STARS are key!!” “He’s here he’s here he’s here he’s here...”

He looks up at Estela.

IAN: What is this? Looks like nonsense.

ESTELA: I’m not sure. But more to the point, this wasn’t here before we “time traveled.” Someone was here during the 204 days we skipped. Is this Diego’s handwriting?

IAN: Nah. I’d know his scribbles anywhere. Doubt it’s the Hostiles, either, since they don’t speak English.

ESTELA: So that means... what?

Before Ian can respond, the elevators open again, and Alyssa and Jake emerge. They stop short when they see the folders in Ian’s hand.

ALYSSA: Wait, are those-?

JAKE (simultaneously): You found some too?!

Estela and Ian turn to face them. Ian shrugs and holds up the folders.

IAN: I... I didn’t mean to keep these from you guys, I just didn’t really get the chance-

He stops when he realizes what Alyssa and Jake had said.

IAN: Wait... “found some too?” You both-

Alyssa shrugs sheepishly.

ALYSSA: At that emergency shelter. One of ‘em was about you, Estela.

ESTELA: Me?

IAN: You should’ve shown her!

ESTELA: To be fair, we all had our reasons for not trusting one another, especially at first.

She pulls out her own set of folders. The top one is Jake’s, and she hands it to him.

ESTELA: This is yours, I believe.

JAKE: Goddamn...

He flips through it, saying nothing, but his eyes go wide in surprise.

JAKE: Hang on. Be right back.

He sprints out of the lobby, toward the entrance to the basement. Alyssa hangs her head and sighs.

ALYSSA: Sorry, Estela. Really. We’re long past the point where we should’ve stopped keeping secrets from each other-

ESTELA: It’s fine. Apparently we all did the same thing.

IAN: I was hoping to find everyone so I could show them all at once. I’ve got Craig’s, Zahra’s, and Quinn’s.

ALYSSA: But how do they know this much stuff about us? Birthdates, locations, history... except yours, Estela; a lot of it’s blacked out for some reason.

She hands the folder to Estela, who reads through it.

ESTELA: What is here is worryingly accurate. How could Rourke possibly know all of this? Down to the last detail?!

Alyssa shivers involuntarily.

ALYSSA: I dunno, but it’s freaking me out-

Jake bounds back up the stairs, a pair of folders clutched in his hands.

JAKE: Found these right before all that Aleister business started, and then I forgot all about it, given... uh, what happened that night.

He looks awkwardly at Ian. Alyssa coughs and glares at Jake.

IAN: What happened that night?

ALYSSA: None of your business! Actually, hang on: what were you two doing that night? I seem to remember you rushing in together-

IAN: “None of your business!”

ALYSSA: I really should’ve seen that coming.

JAKE: None of that matters right now. You two are gonna wanna see these.

He passes the twins’ folders to each of them. They stand side by side as they open the folders, staring openmouthed at the “Birth” sections.

IAN: “December 31, 1995 - 11:59 PM” ... “Location... La Huerta?!”

ALYSSA: Mine says “January 1, 1996 - 12:00 AM.” Also La Huerta.

JAKE: There’s no way in hell you two were born here. You’d have known that, right?

Alyssa and Ian shake their heads.

ALYSSA: Jake... we were adopted together when we were babies. We never knew our birth parents or anything.

IAN: Our birth certificates said “January 1st, ‘96,” so that’s just when we celebrated, but... Alyssa...

ALYSSA: If Jake and Estela’s birthday info is all true, and if the others’ are true as well, then...

IAN: ...We were born here. On La Huerta.

ALYSSA: Ian... who are we?!

FADE TO BLACK.

TO BE CONTINUED IN... ENDLESS WINTER

FINAL THOUGHTS AND FUTURE PLANS:

How do you actually write one of these things? Well, I start out by playing through the canon chapter(s) that a given scene is based on and transcribing the script into Word for reference. The canon ES chapters are L-O-N-G, by the way. Then, I decide what to keep, what to alter, what to get rid of, and which lines to include unchanged, and then I write the actual script! After that, I run through it once to edit, then I’ll read the lines aloud and make more changes to make them sound natural. Post it to Tumblr, fix the formatting (and edit once again), then voila! A scene is born!

What was up with the changes? You skipped a ton of scenes! I thought the script turned out well, and (based on people’s reactions and comments) reasonably easy to follow even with all the changes. Most of the changes were made with the aim of streamlining and shortening the story; even with all the scenes cut from canon, the script still ended up being an estimated 3 hours long! Yikes! The other major changes were mostly made with the aim of setting up threads for weaving a greater story, which leads us to...

What the hell is “CIU Project?” Okay, okay, if anyone’s looked in the tags, you’ve probably noticed the recurring tag “ciu project” as well as tagging my Vaanti OC names with (CIU) at the end of it. CIU stands for “Choices Interconnected Universe” and is what I’m calling any- and everything that takes place in the same universe as this ES rewrite. There will be a more detailed post about the CIU and a general idea of my plans for it later on, but I wanted to wait to announce it until this first script was finished!

Have you written anything else in your CIU universe? “Choices Interconnected Universe Universe?” Okay, but seriously, this is the first official, “canon” work set in the CIU. I have written my Vaanu “Post-Credits Scene” during ESAPW, but consider that more of a loose “teaser” for the project than anything. Once I get to the script that scene’s meant to appear in, I will rewrite it and it may have a few tiny details different. Anything else I write in the CIU will be tagged with “ciu project” (no quotes) so you can find it easily there!

What other Choices books besides Endless Summer are going to be involved? I’ll be explaining that in the separate CIU post I plan to make soon, but in the meantime...

FADE IN:

INT. L.A.P.D. STATION - OFFICE - NIGHT (FIVE MONTHS AGO)

A man in a crisp suit, his back to the camera, scrolls through data about Rourke International on his computer screen; images of Jake, Lila, and Aleister appear beside a satellite view of the Caribbean Sea. Scattered on his desk are copies of the various dossier pages that Ian, Alyssa, Jake, and Estela had all found across La Huerta. The man sighs and rubs his forehead in frustration.

The door swings open, and a young auburn-haired policewoman rushes into the office, slightly out of breath. This is Jake’s sister, REBECCA MCKENZIE. The man looks up as she enters.

MAN: ...Officer McKenzie? I told you I’d let you know when I found something-

REBECCA: They’re pulling you off the case. You’re getting reassigned. I asked her not to, but-

MAN: Listen, Officer, I told you before: technically this case is well outside my jurisdiction. It’s not even in this country, let alone the city. I figured it was only a matter of time ‘til they wanted me working on something a bit closer to home.

REBECCA: But... what the hell am I supposed to...

MAN: Whatever I’m being reassigned to, I promise I’ll keep digging up leads on my own time. An entire island can’t just go missing with no one noticing; there’s definitely something fishy going on.

REBECCA: Yeah, and my brother was on that island. You’re a detective! Solving mysteries is your job!

MAN: Well, this mystery is tougher than most. But I promise we’ll figure it out eventually. He’s not the only person who’s gone missing in that area last month, besides.

He indicates the scattered pages on his desk.

MAN: Fifteen missing, including your brother. Don’t worry. You know I’ve got plenty of friends in high places.

Rebecca smiles, reassured by his words.

MAN: So what’s this new case I’m being reassigned to? I swear, if it’s another celebrity feud over nothing-

REBECCA: Nothing like that. You heard about the Tower Murders the other night?

MAN: Yeah, I thought Barton and Sanchez were handling that one-

Rebecca shakes her head.

REBECCA: Nobody can figure it out. Captain wants you. Specifically. There’s even rumors that... y’know... Li might be behind it.

MAN: Heh. Of course they think she’s behind it. If Li was behind everything everyone claimed she was, there’d have to be at least a dozen of her running around. 'Sides, murder isn’t her style.

He stands up from his desk, adjusting his suit and tie.

MAN: Tell the Captain I’ll do it.

REBECCA: You will? Just like that? But what about my brother?

MAN: I’m at a dead end for now anyway. I’ll find this murderer, get ‘em locked up, and be back on the La Huerta disappearances faster than you can say “Case closed.”

Rebecca laughs in spite of herself, then recovers and nods professionally.

REBECCA: Thank you, Detective. I’ll let the Captain know, and she’ll fill you in on the details. And... I appreciate what you’re doing for me. For my brother.

MAN: Of course. After all, there’s never been a case I couldn’t crack, and I’m not about to let that change!

Rebecca leaves the office. The man turns and faces the camera, adjusting his badge, which reveals his name: DETECTIVE DAVE REYES. He shakes his head, glancing back at the images on his computer once more.

DAVE: What the hell are you up to, Rourke?

FADE TO BLACK.

TO BE CONTINUED IN... MOST WANTED: THE HOLLYWOOD KILLER

It’s all connected...

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shadowsong26fic · 6 years ago

Text

The Handler AU

As requested by @tigerkat24.

(I do also have fulltext for one scene in here, which will be posted and linked here in the near future, probably tomorrow, after I clean it up some.)

Right. So. A couple of notes before I get started:

1) This AU prominently features Lavinia, and also super self-indulgent. Gonna say that straight-out. This is me and my OC and a bunch of tropes I adore. It is not the most self-indulgent piece I’ve ever put together, but it’s probably up there. I say this because, while I am pretty much past the point as a fan/content creator/whatever where I’m ashamed of my self-indulgent BS, I understand that it might not be everyone’s cup of tea, especially when it’s as obvious as this piece is. And I like people to know at least in general terms what they’re getting into when they open a piece of mine. So, you know, bear that in mind as you move forward.

2) Because of the way I work/develop AUs/OCs/etc., there are certain personality traits/satellite characters/plot points that are common to all/most of Lavinia’s storylines (...yeah, it’s a Thing I do, with OCs yeah but also with OC-free AUs and AUs of AUs and ‘hey what if I changed this plot point here, or put OC B in this situation instead of that one, or stuck Canon D in...look, y’all have seen my Distaff variants, you know the kind of thing I’m talking about; I don’t always stop at a single layer of canon-divergence, but then there has to be a thread connecting everything, or it becomes a totally different story/character, right? ...I’m not sure I’m explaining this very well. ...anyway, back on topic). As a result, despite being an AU of a completely different AU, this outline is therefore somewhat spoilery for a future Precipice arc. I mean, I’m pretty sure I’ve hinted at where I’m going with her in the fic proper and/or bonus content, or at least I’ve tried to, (plus, I know I’ve mentioned some things here on tumblr about particular narrative/character tropes I like), so it’s probably not too surprising? Or, at least, I hope it’s not. If it is, I need to get better at foreshadowing… Anyway, it is still technically a spoiler. To the point where I considered sitting on this (and a couple related AUs) at least until a particular event from Arc Seven that makes said future storyline about as clear as it can be until it actually happens. But…I decided ehhhhhh, why not (plus this was requested). But, you know, if that is something you want to avoid, might be best not to read this outline until after Arc…nine, I think? Just as a head’s up.

3) This is essentially a Kallus-centric Rebels fic (though, as mentioned above, also prominently featuring one of my OCs). And, other than that one bit in the Valdemar AU I wrote a month or so ago, this is the first time I’ve actually written Rebels content. (…granted, I’ve plotted more things--the closely-related Pellaeon AU features Rebels stuff pretty heavily, as does the middle arc of the Valdemar AU, which started as ‘Anakin would do really well as a Herald actually’ and has now turned into a massive three-part kudzu plot of a niche crossover and I should really redo that outline properly at some point, plus a few other things…) Anyway, the point is, I’m not necessarily super familiar with the conventions/etc. of this part of the fandom, and I apologize for any off-voice bits.

Okay! Now that I have warned for spoilers, inexperience, and self-indulgent BS…welcome to the Handler AU.

Oh, one more thing I want to mention—because this is, as stated above, super self-indulgent, Kanan is still alive because I said so. He got pretty crisped in that explosion and therefore missed the final battle, but didn’t actually die.

(Imperial records may have listed him as dead for a while, because No One Could Have Survived That, but he did survive.)

(How? IDK, maybe Ezra actually was able to do something from the between-place in this version.)

(Point is, we still have Kanan.)

(Ezra and Thrawn are still on a road trip with a bunch of space whales, though.)

ANYWAY. On to the good stuff.

It all kicks off like two months after Yavin.

Some timeline notes:

Because timelining anything in Star Wars is A Project, I am making some executive decisions here.

We’re approximately a year after the Rebels series finale.

(Meaning Jacen is like 3-4 months old, depending on exactly how pregnant Hera was at the time.)

This is also about how long Zeb and Kallus have been explicitly dating.

(There was SO MUCH PINING going on for a while there.)

(But it took that long for either of them to actually do anything about it.)

(Kallus figured out pretty early on that he was interested, but didn’t really think he deserved this/had earned it yet/that Zeb could possibly be interested in him, and therefore decided to bury his feelings Like A Goddamn Professional Okay.)

(Zeb took a while longer to clue in, and then couldn’t figure out if this was just him or what--see above re: burying things; worked a little bit too well--plus he has his own issues to work through.)

(And then there were some frantic Confessions and so-glad-we’re-alive sex and…)

(Yeah, this is a thing now.)

(Exactly zero people who have spent any time with these two dorks at all are surprised.)

(As is so often the case, the last people to clue in that this was A Mutual Thing are the two idiots involved.)

(There may or may not have been a pool or three going.)

(Hera won at least one of them.)

So. Kallus has made himself useful wherever he can since openly defecting, really, but generally works analyzing intelligence reports and training field agents for potential undercover missions. Even if his specific information is getting more and more out of date (few, if any, of the codes, etc. that he knows are still valid at this point), some things aren’t going to change that quickly, and his background is useful here.

Anyway. He gets called in--

“We’ve been approached by a would-be double agent deep in Imperial territory; received three transmissions in the past few weeks. So far, everything we’ve been sent checks out/has been useful, but.”

“But you’re wondering if this agent is an ISB plant.”

“Exactly. She calls herself Vector.”

“She?”

“Yeah. The scrambler she’s using is doing its job, which means we can’t actually use a voice print to ID her, but vocal pattern analysis got us that much. And that she’s likely Coruscanti, Human, and under thirty. That’s about all we know.”

He goes over the data and the recordings from the first three contacts and nothing jumps out as a red flag/any of the tricks he’s familiar with.

On the first call, there’s some dancing around; as if Vector’s trying to make sure of who she’s talking to. What he’d expect from either a plant or a genuine defector, really. Not particularly helpful.

The other two are fairly brief/straightforward, and start the same way each time--This is Vector. I have a data file for you. Do as you like with it. Also not particularly enlightening, given the question he’s been asked to answer.

The data itself, though, is--interesting. Not easy to access, for the most part, and not necessarily all from the same source. Parts of it are the kind of thing ISB would use as bait, but just as much of it is not. Some of it provides useful context for intel the Alliance has received from other sources (some covert, some not), which is not the kind of thing an ISB plant would send.

So, he goes back to his superiors and tentatively reports Vector as probably genuine. He wants to be on hand for her next transmission, though, to be sure.

(He wonders, idly, who they had evaluate his initial transmissions like this, or if using an established codename and protocol was enough…)

(He’s Concerned it might be the second.)

(There are some worrying gaps in Rebel Intelligence’s security that he can only do so much to patch.)

Of course, there’s a slight problem with that. Vector’s transmissions haven’t exactly been regular--the second one came four days after the first, and then it was nearly two weeks to the third.

And when they do come, they’re very brief, so if Kallus is, say, busy with a training exercise on the opposite side of the base…

(Or otherwise occupied in a supply closet.)

(He does have, y’know, a life when off-duty.)

(...which is something that still sends him into weird brainspirals of “how did this happen” and “i don’t deserve this” and “when is it going to blow up in my face” on occasion, but that is a separate problem. One that he buries. Like A Goddamn Professional.)

(no that’s not a habit of his why do you ask.)

IN ANY CASE, this means that it ends up being her sixth message, close to three weeks after Kallus is initially brought in, before he’s able to listen in live.

(Transmissions four and five, after he reviews them, don’t really change his analysis, but still.)

Transmission six comes in while Kallus happens to be in the tiny corner of the current base that Intelligence has claimed.

It starts like the others did--This is Vector. I have a data file for you. Do as you like with it.

Once the file transfer initiates, he responds.

“Vector, this is Fulcrum.”

(Okay, technically, he probably should be using a different handle now, since it’s really supposed to be for field agents only and he isn’t one anymore. And there are similar shared code names for Intelligence agents primarily on base duty, or he assumes there are, but even after over a year of not using it, it’s still the first one that comes to mind. Reflexive, almost. And now it’s going to stick.)

There’s a beat of silence from the other end, and Kallus is briefly concerned that he misjudged the situation, that she’d going to panic and cut the transmission.

But, “I can’t leave the link open long,” she says.

(Part of him thinks she sounds...almost relieved? Like she’s been waiting to be challenged like this, and the longer things went on without a test, the more nervous she got.)

(He can understand that worry. That sense of just waiting for the other shoe to drop.)

(And, yes, other Rebel Intelligence agents probably could have tested her like this, and if he hadn’t been around as a resource they almost certainly would have, but given that he knows exactly what to look for, the Powers That Be had decided to leave it in his hands.)

“Of course,” he says, and asks her a few questions, rapid-fire.

(He’s less interested in the specific details of her answers--and he’s not really asking her questions about her identity--then how she approaches answering him. Not necessarily something he can explain, which is part of why he didn’t coach any of the other officers and get this taken care of on transmission four or five, but just trying to get a sense of her.)

(One thing he does is privately revise the estimate of her age--he thinks she’s younger than the previous guess, probably twenty or so. Sabine’s age, maybe, at the oldest. Which makes her even less likely to be a plant in his opinion; ISB wouldn’t put this much effort into setting up an agent that inexperienced, not on a mission this sensitive, even if she was inconceivably talented and precocious. As an in-person infiltrator, yes, absolutely; but for this many layers of intrigue...no, they’d want someone Experienced.)

She ends the transmission somewhat abruptly, after about five minutes, but he was more or less expecting that and anyway he has what he needs.

“Well?”

“She’s genuine,” he says. “I’m as sure as I can be of that.”

“Good to hear.” A pause. “...you’ve run undercover agents before, correct?”

Kallus shuts down the knee-jerk paranoid response as fast and hard as he can.

(There are almost certainly people in the Alliance who still don’t trust me but none of them are in this room. I know that. Calm down.)

“Yes, once or twice,” he says, cautiously. “For short-term assignments.”

“Congratulations. You just volunteered to be Vector’s handler.”

(Hence the name of the AU. AKA the one where Kallus adopts a baby spy who JUST HAPPENS to be Palpatine’s daughter.)

(...yeah, he didn’t really see that one coming.)

(...at some point, I should probably go through and outline Lavinia’s politics and her reasons for defecting in detail, but in the interests of focusing on Kallus’s end of things, which is much more interesting, a (hopefully) brief digression on the subject:)

(Lavinia was created and trained to be a spy/manipulator, to perform the kind of tasks and access the kind of information that Palpatine could as the avuncular Chancellor but cannot as Emperor, now that he’s thrown that mask away.)

(...apart from very specific, carefully staged moments, like with Ezra.)

(So, part of manipulating people means understanding them, which means Lavinia does a lot of research to put her targets into context, and in so doing comes across a wide variety of cultures/forms of government, at least in an academic context.)

(And that means that, once she starts thinking beyond “how can I survive until tomorrow” and starts thinking about broader impact/more long-range plans, it doesn’t take her very long to realize that her father’s government is...well, let’s call it deeply flawed.)

(What she does when she comes to that conclusion varies, depending on other circumstances--but she doesn’t necessarily defect right away. Mostly for practical reasons; in Masks!Verse, which this AU is a variant of, she has no Rebel contacts that she’s absolutely sure of.)

(Meaning, in this case, both “absolutely sure is an actual Rebel and not just sympathetic to their aims/politics” and “absolutely sure would be willing to work with me despite my parentage.”)

(And if she approaches anyone she isn’t sure of, it’ll get her or her contact or both of them killed. Defecting from a distance, while she can better protect her identity, has a much bigger risk of interception, which, again, would get her and/or her contacts and possibly a lot of other people killed. Or worse.)

(Basically, she doesn’t think defection is a viable option for her--there are some other reasons for this, but those play a distant second to these concerns.)

(But then Alderaan happens.)

(And these concerns carry a lot less weight.)

(It takes her a couple months to figure out how to make contact with Rebel Intelligence, let alone how to do it safely, but she starts working on it at that point.)

(...I think that’s the salient points here. Like I said, I have a fair bit more about Lavinia’s politics/etc. and the ways/extent to which she’s willing to defy her father in various AUs, but that’s enough for this one, I think.)

So, Kallus can’t really argue with the assignment (even if part of him kind of wants to? Not because he thinks he can’t do it, but because he’s concerned that being another deep-cover informant’s handler is going to dig up a lot of stuff he’d really, really rather keep buried.)

(Look, he feels like he’s finally found his equilibrium. He’s even, somehow, approaching happy with his life for the first time in what feels like forever which, guilt-induced brainspirals aside, he doesn’t want to give up.)

(Besides, handling Vector wouldn’t be his only responsibility, and if he does start losing that equilibrium, he’s not sure how much his other work will be affected.)

(On the other hand...)

(On the other hand, there are very few people who have done what he did and survived long enough to make it back to Rebel lines.)

(Oh, there are other deep-cover informants, sure; but the majority of them are plants inserted by Rebel Intelligence.)

(And while, even leaving aside the technicalities involved with Senator Mothma and others among the leadership who had previously served in the Imperial Senate, there are plenty of defectors--up to and including General Madine and some other persons of very high rank--for the most part, once they make that decision, defectors grab what they can and run.)

(The ones that don’t usually don’t survive as long as he did.)

(Or, alternatively, they don’t identify themselves to the Alliance or even necessarily work directly with them; they perform internal sabotage rather than espionage.)

(Those embedded defectors tend to last longer, but not by much.)

(Which means that he’s probably the only person--certainly the only available person--who has been where Vector is. Who better to help her?)

(As for his own issues...well, he is a Professional, dammit. He can damn well compartmentalize. He’s very good at that.)

(...yeah, this is kind of a running theme for him. Sometimes it’s a good thing, sometimes it’s...very much not.)

(It remains to be seen how much it’ll help or hurt when dealing with Vector.)

So, he accepts the assignment, and goes back to his quarters to tell Zeb and collect a few things--given the irregularity of Vector’s transmissions, until he can talk to her again and set up a better protocol, he’s going to basically have to camp out in Intelligence.

(Which he’s not looking forward to, but it is what it is.)

Zeb is already there when he gets back--their current shifts don’t entirely line up, which is fine; they have at least a few hours overlap most days which is better than some pairs can say.

After several minutes saying hello...

“Did I miss anything interesting?” Kallus asks.

“That Skywalker kid came by a bit ago,” Zeb tells him. “Looking for Kanan.”

Kallus blinks, halfway through fixing caf for the two of them. “...aren’t he and Hera off investigating a potential supply line?”

(Which is, of course, far below Hera’s current paygrade, but she volunteers for that kind of mission on occasion. An excuse to spend private time with her family, while still technically being useful and not taking actual time off.)

“Yep,” Zeb says. “Apparently, this is the third or fourth time something like that has happened. They keep missing each other.”

"Well, I’m sure they’ll link up sooner or later,” he says. “Especially if Skywalker’s actively looking for Kanan.”

(He hasn’t actually met Luke yet at this point, but he’s heard the rumors. He has no real doubt of this fact.)

“Yeah, probably,” Zeb says. “I think Kanan’s been trying to track him down, too. He’ll be sorry he missed him.”

(...yeah, we’re going with Anakin-and-Grievous levels of contrived coincidence to keep those two from actually meeting for a while.)

(Partly because it’s easier than figuring out all the timeline/plot implications that might have (and I’m lazy, and that is the focus of another story), but mostly because I think it’s funny.)

Kallus nods. “...did he and Hera take Jacen with them, or...?”

(He hadn’t seen any evidence the baby had been left with them, but that didn’t mean it hadn’t happened.)

But Zeb shakes his head. “Nah, Sabine has him this time. Why? Something going on?”

“I have an assignment,” Kallus tells him.

“Huh. Extraction?”

(Logical assumption--the bulk of the fieldwork he does now, all-hands-on-deck situations like Lothal aside, is extractions. Occasionally helping sell an insertion, but generally the reverse.)

“No, not this time,” he says. “The agent who reached out, the one I told you about--I’ve been assigned as her handler.”

(He has long since gotten permission to discuss at least surface generalities of his work with Zeb, and they both know where the line is.)

Zeb’s ears flick a little, and Kallus can practically see him weighing the same pros and cons that he himself did earlier--and probably several others he hadn’t thought of.

“So, I guess that means you’re camping out in intelligence for a while?”

“Unfortunately,” he says. “Of course, there is a difference between being on-call and being on duty. And my schedule technically won’t change.”

Zeb perks up at that and grins before kissing him. “Well, I’m sure I an find an excuse to be in the area. Sometimes. Just in case. You know.”

“Mm.”

Fortunately, call number seven comes less than a week later.

This is Vector. I have a data file for you. Do as you like with it.

“Vector, this is Fulcrum.”

A brief pause. “Yes.”

“I’ve been assigned as your handler.”

(He figures the best way to deal with someone who’s probably twitchy and paranoid and otherwise on high alert is to be as scrupulously honest as he can. That doesn’t mean telling her everything, of course, but it does mean being straightforward, difficult as it is, and not outright lying.)

(If he can. So far, he can.)

Another pause. “I understand.”

(She’s hard to read on this one, whether or not she finds it suspicious. She might even be relieved again, that she’ll have a set contact point, rather than a whoever’s-available sort of situation.)

“There are some protocols I’d like to establish, for further contacts.”

“I can’t call at a set time,” she says immediately. “Or at set intervals.”

"I understand,” he said. “But I’m going to give you a more specific frequency to call.”

“Yes,” she says, and that definitely has a faint note of relief.

“Can you, if nothing else, send an all-clear transmission every two weeks?” he asks. “It doesn’t need to be at a set time, but so we can gauge--” whether or not you’re alive and uncompromised “--how concerned we need to be after a long silence.”

She pauses. “...I think so. Yes. I can do that.”

(Definitely young, he thinks, maybe even younger than Ezra--would be.)

“That’s all for now,” he says. There are others he wants to establish, of course, but those are the most important and her file transfer is nearly complete.

“I’ll be in touch,” she says; hesitates a second; “Vector out.”

(...well, she’s signing off officially now, rather than just abruptly terminating the connection. Progress. I think.)

He goes back to his quarters, and life settles into a new routine.

He keeps up his old duties--analyzing reports, training potential undercover agents, etc.--and also keeps track of Vector and her reports.

That last one proves...well, his early optimism wasn’t entirely misplaced?

Vector is very, very good at what she does. Her files are varied in their content, and sometimes not as useful as she might’ve hoped, due to timing or other resource concerns, but the quality of the work she does never comes into question.

But part of being a double agent’s handler is assessing how they’re holding up under the incredible stress of the position. And she is frustratingly vague when it comes to anything approaching anything personal about herself.

In addition, there are two additional protocols he wants to set up early on--first is a way for him to reach her.

“Just because I have access doesn’t mean I have influence,” she says. “I can’t seed disinformation for you. Not without getting caught.”

“That wasn’t what I meant.”

(Though, of course, he had considered the possibility--as well-positioned as Vector seems to be, how could he not?--but while he doesn’t completely rule out the idea, he files it away under “only as a last resort.” Better to leave her in place as long as possible.)

“But if there’s something specific we want you to keep an eye out for--or if we need to warn you about something...”

“Right,” she says. “That’s fine, then.”

The second, though...the second is where they run into real problems.

“I also want to establish an emergency signal. If you need extraction, or if you end up captured by Rebel agents.”

(He still wonders, sometimes, if staying behind when Ezra came to extract him was the right decision. It had seemed so at the time, but...)

(He’ll probably never know. And fretting about it doesn’t do any good.)

(knowing that doesn’t make it any easier to stop.)

“No,” she says.

“Vector--”

And she hangs up on him.

Exactly why she’s so reticent to establish something like that, he isn’t sure--he has some theories, but...

It’s frustrating, to be sure. Makes it harder for him to do his job.

(And it makes him worried about her--if she’s working without any kind of exit strategy, that likely means she doesn’t think such a thing will be possible. Which, on the one hand, shows her dedication to the cause, but on the other hand...on the other hand, if she thinks getting caught is inevitable, she might get sloppy with her own security and that might well turn into a self-fulfilling prophecy.)

(The other alternative, that she doesn’t trust him, or the Alliance, with her safety if things do go wrong, is...well, probably more distressing, in all honesty.)

(Though not, perhaps, altogether surprising.)

He decides to seek Kanan’s advice on the problem.

(Kanan, after all, knows best what to do with unruly teenagers.)

(...well, so does Hera, but Hera’s advice would probably be less applicable/harder to apply to his specific situation. Also, she has better things to do than help him do his job.)

(Which is the other frustrating thing, that he can’t handle this by himself.)

Kanan’s advice is pretty straightforward--be patient, and don’t push her too hard. You can’t help her if she won’t let you.

(This is part of why I wanted him still around, incidentally.)

(Because there is something utterly hilarious about Kallus going to Kanan for parenting advice.)

(And that’s exactly what he’s doing.)

(Even if he hasn’t quite figured that out yet.)

So, taking this in mind, he backs off. A little bit. Decides to start from square one, and build a rapport, and go from there to get some of the other basics that he wants established.

Standard interrogation technique, technically. Not one favored by ISB, obviously, or really encouraged, but even they knew it had its uses.

Vector is still cagey about personal details, but she does start to soften a little as several weeks go by.

He brings up the idea of an emergency code phrase again, after about two months of this kind of sporadic contact.

This time, she says she’ll think about it.

Things hold in this pattern for about a year, and then Vector makes a call, as usual.

Or, it starts like a normal call, anyway.

“You probably won’t hear from me for a while,” she says, as the file transfer is wrapping up and they’re about to sign off.

“Are you in trouble?”

“No,” she says. “Nothing like that. And nothing related to the work we’ve been doing. But things are going to be...difficult. I’m not even sure I’ll be able to get an all-clear message out for a while.”

He doesn’t like this at all. “How long?”

“A month,” she says. “Probably. Maybe a little more, maybe a little less. I’ll contact you as soon as I can safely.”

It is one of the longer months of his life.

But, as promised, the dedicated comm he has for her lights up eventually.

This is Vector. I have a data file for you.

“Vector, this is Fulcrum,” he says. “Good to hear from you again. Everything all right?”

“Yes,” she says. And she seems fine, and he breathes a quiet sigh of relief.

When he tells Zeb about it later, though, is where it gets...interesting.

“Glad to hear your kid’s okay,” he says.

“My--she’s not my child, Zeb,” Kallus says.

“Really.”

“....”

“Look, you talk about her the same way Kanan talks about Sabine, when she’s off blowing things up on Mandalore.”

“I...wait, really?”

“Yep,” Zeb says, and grins at him. “I mean, it’s not a problem. S’kind of what we do in this family, isn’t it? Take in strays. ‘Bout time you got in on it, really.”

Kallus just stares at him. “I...what.”

Zeb waves a hand in front of his face. “Alex. Babe. You all right in there?”

He shakes himself. “Yes, of course. Sorry."

“Ehh, don’t worry about it. I mean, it’d probably have been nice for the two of us to talk about kids in general before we started adopting our own strays, but--”

Really, sometimes Kallus thinks that Zeb likes the expression he makes when utterly poleaxed like that.

(He does. He thinks it’s adorable.)

(Also, Zeb figures this is a conversation they maybe should have, because they’re clearly both in this for the long haul and he saw this opening and...look, no one ever said Zeb was good at broaching delicate topics gently.)

“...do you?” Kallus asks, when he recovers. “Want children, someday?”

“I mean...yeah,” Zeb says. “If you do. I mean.”

“I hadn’t thought about it,” he confesses.

(Because long-range planning is hard; because they’re at war, because he’s still waiting for the other shoe to drop, because he doesn’t deserve any of this and planning for a future he doesn’t deserve is just--a little much for him sometimes.)

“But...yes,” Kallus says. “I think so, yes. I would like to raise children with you. Someday.”

Zeb’s response to that is positive and enthusiastic and leads to things they will definitely not be discussing with their hypothetical children ever.

It’s a month or two after that that Kallus finds out who Vector is.

(…well, for a given value of ‘finds out,’ anyway.)

He and Zeb are babysitting--Sabine is back on Mandalore; Hera is on duty; Kanan was supposed to be finally meeting Luke but there was an issue at the spaceport and he’s stranded for the next few hours.

(Like I said. Anakin-and-Grievous levels of contrived coincidence.)

Zeb has just put the kid to bed, and Kallus is watching the news.

“You’re still watching that?” he asks, nudging Kallus to make room for him on the couch and drawing him to lean on his shoulder.

“I’ve told you before, dear, knowing what the Empire is saying, no matter how different that is from what they’re doing, has its uses.”

“Especially if you know how their propaganda is constructed, I know,” Zeb says, and nuzzles his ear. “Just thought you were almost done.”

Kallus smiles faintly and leans into the caress. “I am, I promise. I’ll shut it off in a minute. I just want to--”

He pauses. Rewinds the feed. Pauses it--pre-recorded coverage of some public event the Emperor’s kid had been at, with the newscaster commenting on the progress of whatever “public works” project it was supposed to kick off.

“…what is it? Something she said?”

(...something to do with whatever this “project” is covering up?)

“Hush,” he says, fiddling with a few buttons and calling up a printed transcript and skims through it before sinking back against Zeb, letting out a breath.

“Babe?”

“I think I know who Vector is,” he says.

Zeb stares at him for a minute, then stares at the paused footage--frozen on the Princess’s face, icy and composed.

“…her?”

“Her,” he confirms.

“Why…?”

“Little things,” he says. “The way she talks, some unique turns of phrase. And she fits the profile--young, Human, Coruscanti, close to someone powerful but essentially a civilian herself…and…when Vector disappeared on me last month, that coincided with a period where the Princess was more visible than usual.”

“Karabast,” he mutters. “When you put it like that…”

“It’s all conjecture,” Kallus points out. “I can’t prove any it. Not without digging deeper--which, if I’m right, risks compromising her cover--or asking her straight-out.”

(Which, of course, would also be a bad idea. It would probably seriously damage the trust he’s spent the past year and more building, and it might not even get him an honest answer anyway.)

“Right,” Zeb says. “…any chance someone else could put this together?”

Kallus makes a face. “Unlikely,” he says, though he doesn’t sound totally sure. “The recordings of our conversations are kept as hard copies only, for security. Not uploaded onto any networked drives. And a very small set of people have access to those copies. I doubt anyone could put it together without that access. Still…”

(Someone dedicated enough, who managed to access one of those recordings, or intercept a transmission along the way, or compromise the lines of communication from the other side…)

“Kriff,” he says. “Anything you can do about it?”

“Not really,” he says. “Other than brief Draven and keep doing what I’ve been doing.”

“Yeah,” he says, and studies the picture again; glances over at the morose look on Kallus’s face; feels his ears twitching. “Huh. Never would’ve figured the Emperor’s kriffing daughter to defect.”

Kallus jumps a little, drawn out of his thoughts, then rolls his eyes and gives Zeb a fond, exasperated smile (which was really the point, honestly; to needle him into a better mood), and rather dryly points out, “There was a time you would’ve said the same about me.”

“True,” Zeb says, and grins at him. “Guess it just goes to show, people surprise you all the time.”

“Indeed,” Kallus says, then reaches over to shut off the feed and changes the subject.

Six weeks after that, Vector goes quiet again. This time without warning.

When her two-week check-in goes by with nothing, he’s immediately concerned. She’s never missed a check-in before, not without warning. He decides to give her a day, and then ping her himself.

(He generally avoids doing that--only when he absolutely needs to speak with her about something time-sensitive that can’t wait for her to reach out.)

There’s no response to his message, either.

He reports the missed check-in, of course. Tries again the next day. And a third.

Still nothing.

(He knows a rescue won’t be authorized--technically, they don’t actually know for sure who or even where Vector is, and if his theory is correct, they cannot make a run on Coruscant for one agent, especially not one as visible as Princess Lavinia.)

(He keeps telling himself that. Over and over again. As he tries a fourth and fifth time to reach her.)

“Zeb,” he says, after a third full week has gone by since the last time he heard from her. “I need you to talk me out of doing something stupid.”

“Uh, sure, babe. What’s going on?”

He explains the situation as briefly as he can. “And I am this close to staging a half-assed unauthorized raid on Coruscant to extract her.”

“...nah, if we’re doing an unauthorized raid on Coruscant, it should be a full-assed thing.”

That...that wasn’t really the answer Kallus was looking for.

(In hindsight, he thinks, as he tries to redraw building plans from memory and plan this stupid, stupid venture, he probably should have gone to Hera if he really wanted someone to talk him down. Or possibly Kanan. ...no, Hera.)

(...it could be worse, though.)

(he could’ve tried asking Sabine.)

Fortunately, before they can actually run off and get themselves killed--

(or court-martialed)

(or in trouble with Hera)

--Kallus’ dedicated comm chimes.

“All clear,” he breathes. “That’s the all-clear. She’s...she’s alive.”

It’s nearly another week before he hears anything else, but finally a real call comes.

This is Vector. I have a data file for you. Do as you like with it.

“Vector, this is Fulcrum. Are you all right?”

(she doesn’t sound all right; it’s hard to tell through her scrambler, but she seems strained.)

“Everything’s fine,” she says. “I apologize for the delay, but things are settled now. My cover is intact.”

Which is good to know, but not what he asked.

“And what about you?” he says.

She doesn’t answer right away.

“Vector?”

“I’m here,” she says. “And everything is under control. You don’t need to worry about me. Nothing that--it wasn’t anything to do with this, I was caught on the fringes of something unrelated. It won’t interfere with my work going forward.”

Which still isn’t an answer.

(He’s pretty sure the non-answer is his answer, though. Damn it.)

(He knows the risks. Better than most. And he knows she knows them, too. It doesn’t make it any easier to hear, especially knowing that there is kriff-all he can do to help her.)

Into the silence, she says, “I’m your asset, Fulcrum. Not your friend.”

“......”

“I’m just--” She sighs. “I’m your asset. Not your friend. It’s...we should both remember that. It’s probably better, in the long run.”

And part of him is hurt; part of him is annoyed that he is being lectured on professionalism by a damned child; part of him is worried again--he did finally talk her into an emergency code phrase, in case of capture or other disaster, but here she goes again, hinting that she doesn’t have an exit strategy.

(Not like I did, either, he reminds himself. Can’t plan that far ahead. Not when you’re doing this kind of work. And even when Ezra came for me--)

(He buries it. Because he is a goddamn professional, Vector’s reproof aside.)

“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” she says. “And I’ve had worse.”

“........”

All right, that he likes even less.

“Vector--”

“I have to go,” she says. “I’ll be in touch when I have something else. And I’ll do my best to warn you if I have to disappear again. Vector out.”

And, in the interests of “good Lord this thing is close to 6k already,” we’re going to skip ahead quite a bit, about a year and a half, to just after the evacuation of Echo Base.

For the first time in a while, the whole family (minus Ezra) is back on the Ghost together.

(Kanan, Hera, Chopper, Sabine, Zeb, Kallus, Rex, and Jacen.)

(They’ve all been in touch and met up fairly frequently, but they’re no longer a discrete cell and they all have their own, often separate, duties with the wider Rebellion. So, while the circumstances leading to it are awful, it’s nice to have an opportunity like this.)

Orders are to lay low, and make their way by a prearranged roundabout route to the fleet rendezvous five days later.

The first night, they mostly spend catching up and letting Sabine fleece them all at cards.

(Except Rex. Do Not Play Sabaac With Rex.)

(They had all forgotten that rule.)

Hera is sending occasional messages back and forth to Command, to confirm/make adjustments/etc., but otherwise things are fairly quiet after the frantic rush of the evacuation itself.

(Fortunately, none of them were injured in the escape. It’s happened before, when they’ve had to leave a base in a hurry. That was a week no one wanted to repeat.)

It’s their second night of drifting, and Kallus is just starting to fall asleep (Zeb is snoring beside him; the noise honestly probably should have been annoying but is genuinely comforting at this point, to the point where he has trouble sleeping without it) when his comm beeps.

It’s Vector.

More accurately, it’s her emergency signal.

He extracts himself from the bed and slips out into the hall to talk the call.

“Fulcrum.”

“It’s Vector,” she says, unnecessarily. She’s not using her usual scrambler this time, but a more standard vocoder, probably cannibalized from a stolen helmet. She sounds drained, and slightly breathless. “I’ve been burned. I got...I got away. I had more..." She stops, clears her throat. “I got away. I was able to remove my tracker and I’m as--I’m as sure as I reasonably can be that I’ve lost anyone following me by other means. I-I pulled as much raw data as I could onto a couple of portable drives on my way out, but I’m on a...I’m on a sliced public terminal right now, I don’t want to keep the line open long enough to send them in the usual way and I...I don’t know what the protocol is now. Please advise.”

“Where are you now?” he asks. There are so many other questions he wants to ask, needs to ask, both from a personal and a professional standpoint--is she all right; how did she get caught; how did she escape; how long has she been compromised--but they can wait until she’s been located and brought in safely. He sets them all aside, and focuses.

(Like A Goddamn Professional.)

“Ixaly,” she says. “I’m on...I’m on Ixaly.”

He closes his eyes, mentally traces their route through hyperspace. Ixaly is in this sector, it shouldn’t be far...yes. If he’s counted right--they’ll be doing a navigation stop shortly, and dropping out of hyperspace. From there--a few hours to Ixaly, unless he’s completely turned around.

“There’s a cantina,” he says, “in the Diira district in Central City. The White Shale. Can you be there in six hours?”

A brief pause; he can hear her breathing. “Yes,” she says, at last. “Yes, I’ll be there.”

“That’s the fastest I can arrange a pickup,” he says. “I’m sorry.”

(If he’s right about how close they are, it might not actually take him that long, but there’s a balance between getting to her as quickly as possible and budgeting in time for something to go wrong. He doesn’t want to risk being late and having her move on because she thinks he’s not coming. He may not be able to contact her if something goes wrong; not if she’s relying on sliced public terminals to reach out to him. And he has no idea when she’ll be able to make contact again, or how long whatever data’s on her drives will stay viable...so, six hours. He’ll have to trust her to stay alive that long.)

“I’ll be there,” she promises. “White Shale cantina, Diira district, Central City, six hours.”

“Exactly. You know how to reach me if there are any problems.”

“Yes,” she says.

“It’s almost over,” he says. “You’ve done well, getting yourself this far. Just hold on for a little while longer, all right?”

“I will,” she says; takes a breath. “I’ll see you in six hours. Vector out.”

The line goes dead.

Half a heartbeat later, he feels the familiar rumble of the hyperdrive cutting out, switching over to sublight engines.

He’s in his window now, he doesn’t have time--

As he heads for the Phantom, he runs into Kanan.

“...what’s wrong?”

“Vector,” he says, clipped. “She’s had to run. She’s not far--”

“Go,” he says. “I’ll let Hera know. ...take Zeb with you. In case you need backup.”

(Which he doesn’t really need, and it might well spook his contact if he brings a team--he has run extractions like this before, after all, and Vector is particularly cagey--but he nods.)

“I will. Thank you.”

“How long do we wait before sending our own rescue party?” Kanan asks.

Kallus does some quick mental math--six hours to the meet; going by Vector’s history, she may need some convincing to come along (like I did, until it was too late; but it’s already too late for her, isn’t it?); she might be wrong about having a tail; they might run into unrelated trouble...

“I’ll send word once we leave the system. If you haven’t heard from me in twelve hours, that’s when you worry.”

“Got it,” he says, and starts off towards the cockpit to update Hera, when Kallus realizes--

“Wait,” he says.

Kanan pauses, half-turns back to him.

“I don’t know who Vector is, not for certain,” he says, “but I have considerable circumstantial evidence that she’s Princess Lavinia.”

Kanan takes that in, then nods slowly. “Right. Thanks for the head’s up. I’ll pass that along.”

“Thank you,” Kallus says again, and the two of them separate--Kallus goes to wake Zeb and then get the Phantom prepped and underway; Kanan goes to tell Hera what’s going on.

(...and corral his son.)

(Jacen has developed this habit lately of hiding on the Phantom when he thinks it’s going somewhere Interesting.)

(Which is usually whenever someone other than Mamma is driving.)

(He likes going on Adventures with his various uncles and Auntie ‘Bine, okay.)

(They go on the best Adventures.)

(But retrieving one of Kallus’s deep-cover agents whose cover was blown like a week ago at most is maaaaaaybe not the best Adventure for a three-year-old.)

Fortunately, Zeb isn’t hard to wake and grasps the situation quickly. The two of them head for the Phantom--

And find Sabine sitting there waiting for them, spinning idly in the pilot’s chair.

“...Sabine--” Zeb starts.

“Whatever it is that’s got you two running around frantically when we’re supposed to be lying low,” she says, “I wanna help. You might need backup.”

On the one hand, Kallus is pretty sure they won’t. And his prior concerns about spooking Vector if he comes in with a team still apply.

On the other hand, Sabine is one of the best people to have beside them in a crisis, if things do go all to hell. She’s creative and generally carrying an array of weapons that defies the very laws of physics.

Besides, he doesn’t have time to argue with her.

“Fine,” he says. “But you follow my lead--both of you. Neither of you has been on an extraction like this before, and this is what I do. All right?”

“All right,” Sabine says. “Who is it we’re extracting, exactly?”

“A spy, working under the code name Vector,” he says. “She’s been feeding us intel for close to three years now. Her cover was compromised, and she had to run.”

Sabine nods. “Got it,” she says.

“And, if I’m right,” he says--because if he is, Sabine will have to know before they get there, “she’s the Emperor’s daughter.”

“...all right, then,” Sabine manages, after a moment of stunned silence. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

They detach, and the Ghost disappears behind them back into hyperspace as Kallus sets a course for Ixaly.

And now, since I’m sure y’all are wondering the same thing Kallus is--i.e., how did she get caught/how did she escape--let’s backtrack and leave Kallus’s POV for another brief digression--

It all comes down to a man named Vedric Greer.

Vedric Greer is a Royal Guard. He’s been in that elite unit for over fifteen years at this point, selected more or less straight out of the Academy.

He’s been the head of Lavinia’s detail since she was twelve.

(Before that, he had a variety of assignments; he never got stuck with Vader, for which he is profoundly grateful, but he guarded a few valuable objects/locations, and he was on Tarkin’s detail for a couple of years.)

See, here’s the thing about Royal Guards. They’re put through a lot of conditioning, both physically and mentally, to become living weapons who are absolutely loyal.

And he is. Vedric Greer is an absolutely loyal man.

The thing is, to be a Royal Guard assigned to any living being other than Palpatine himself--Vader, Tarkin, Mas Amedda, Lavinia, a few others--means to be equal parts bodyguard and prison guard. Such a Guard is at least partly there to protect his principal from external threats, of course, but if said principal steps out of line or he’s given certain orders, he becomes their jailer. Or executioner. Or worse.

When he’s assigned to someone like Tarkin, of course, that isn’t much of a problem.

But a lonely, precocious twelve-year-old kid like Lavinia? Who, whatever traits she may have inherited from her father, has them tempered by an actual conscience?

...yeah, it doesn’t take a whole lot for him to bond with her, just a little.

(Throw in the fact that he has a lover, an Imperial Archivist who survived Scarif by being transferred to Coruscant days before Tarkin blew it up...well. Maybe the cracks in his armor aren’t only to do with the little girl he’s been made responsible for.)

So. Vedric Greer is a Royal Guard, and that means he is a living weapon, and absolutely loyal.

But over the past seven years--and especially the last three--maybe, just maybe, that loyalty has started to shift.

(He doesn’t even realize it, at first; and when he does notice the traces of affection, of tangential loyalty in himself...well, he reasons that Lavinia is all but an extension of her father’s will, anyway. Right? And if he conveniently fails to see certain signs...)

(Reynard, his lover, knows way before Vedric does where this is going, of course.)

And then, one morning, his orders change, and all those little things come crashing down.

(It was such a simple thing that screwed her over; Palpatine seeds bait among his minions constantly, little nuggets of information so that, if there is a high-placed leak, he can track it back to its source right away. Standard counter-intelligence, really; and everyone, everyone, is under suspicion. Everyone is tested.)

(Lavinia is normally very good at spotting this sort of thing--she has a natural aptitude for espionage, she was trained by the best, and she puts just as much effort into surviving her father and completing her mission as he did into taking over the galaxy. How else would she have lasted nineteen years as her father’s daughter--let alone three as a deep-cover Rebel spy?)

(But this time--this time she missed it. And now he knows.)

And Vedric Greer has a choice to make.

It’s surprising, in the end, how simple it is.

“My lady,” he informs her, “you are undone.”

He helps her cut out the tracking device implanted inside her ribcage (which is also fitted with a killswitch, of course, in case she ever tried to slip her leash); she asks him to come with her; he refuses.

(He is not a Rebel. He is not disloyal.)

(What he is, is her protector. What he is, is--hers.)

“I’m so sorry,” she says.

“So am I,” he says, and, “Go. I’ll buy you as much time as I can.”

“Goodbye,” she says, and disappears.

He sends a brief message to Reynard--hoping he’ll know what it means (he will; he always knew this might happen), and prepares himself to meet his death.

(Or, at least, that’s what he believes is going to happen.)

(...look, as I said before, this is Self-Indulgent BS(tm). Like I’m really gonna let Greer die. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I have no earthly idea how he survives but he does. Because this is my self-indulgent BS, dammit.)

Okay. Back to Ixaly, and the actual rescue/extraction mission.

(…by which I also mean forward, since it’s like a week later.)

Our Heroes reach Central City about an hour ahead of schedule. After a brief discussion, Sabine disappears into the district to be on-hand for immediate help, if needed; Zeb, who doesn’t blend in as well, will stay with the Phantom; Kallus of course goes to the cantina to find his contact.

He heads there more or less directly, taking in as much detail of the city and the specific neighborhood as he can.

He’s been here before, but it’s been several years; there is a garrison in place, but the occupation seems comparatively light.

Which means there’s a not-unreasonable chance that this will go smoothly.

(Of course, as soon as he thinks that, he starts coming up with all the potential problems that could still happen. For one thing, he or Vector or Sabine might be recognized…)

Security on the cantina itself; mostly local talent, just as it was on his last visit. This is a fairly middle-of-the-road place; just dishonest enough that he and Vector should blend, not so dishonest that they’re likely to get caught in the middle of any…unpleasantness. Part of why he picked this place. That, the fact that it isn’t particularly difficult to find, and is fairly close to his ideal landing site.

(Not the official port, naturally; while Kallus doesn’t doubt that they could bluff their way through, he’d rather not try it on such short notice. They’d landed the Phantom on the city outskirts, about fifteen minutes away by foot.)

In other words, things are about as well-situated as they could be, under the circumstances. He has three separate exit routes at least tentatively mapped out, of varying efficiency and difficulty.

(And, if it came down to it, Sabine or Zeb could create one for him, of course, but he’d prefer to avoid that if at all possible.)

(In any case, best to have backup plans; he’ll pick the best route of the three once he has a better idea of what Vector’s capable of at the moment.)

(He’s almost certain she’s hurt, and he doesn’t know how badly, and she’ll never actually tell him, so that’s the best he can do.)

Inside, the cantina is fairly crowded--which is a mixed blessing; on the one hand, more cover for their activities/conversation, but on the other, more people to see them.

It’s a varied crowd; mostly local shift workers, a few semi-legitimate traders and mid-level bounty hunters. Most importantly, though, there are no troopers that he can identify, even off-duty. Excellent.

He gets a drink (to blend in, primarily) and finds a table in the corner where he can keep an eye on the other patrons and watch the door without being obvious about it.

He’s not kept waiting long.

She blends in pretty well--she’s managed to dress herself in a slightly-outdated local fashion, one that helpfully comes with a cowl that doesn’t quite hide her face, but does enough to keep her mostly anonymous from a distance and make dodging any security cameras easier.

(A few other women in the cantina are dressed similarly; not many, but enough that she doesn’t really stand out.)

She doesn’t head straight for him. She weaves through the crowd for a minute, hesitates by the bar as if she’s considering something, orders a drink. Her attention drifts over the crowd; she doesn’t linger on him, but her hand twitches a little.

(Ah. She spotted him, then. Good.)

(He isn’t really surprised that she figured out which Fulcrum she was working with. And it does make things simpler--there are a few signals he could have tried, but there wasn’t time, when she called, to pick one of them and be sure.)

(An advantage, if a counter-intuitive one, to using the legacy code name with her, he supposes.)

She starts moving again; doing everything right--wandering as if she’s looking for a seat, gradually making her way to a small empty table next to his.

(The whole thing takes probably less than two minutes. It feels longer. Then again, it always does--this isn’t the first time he’s met a contact like this, and that never changes. Doesn’t matter whether he’s the first or second to arrive.)

He taps out a quick signal on his commlink--contact made, everything’s on track so far--and waits.

“I have a data file for you,” she says softly. “Several, in fact.”

He smiles faintly into his drink. “Well done.”

The way the tables are laid out, they’re sitting next to one another, both with their backs against the wall. It’s a simple matter for her to slide the two drives over to him, and just as easy for him to make them disappear.

(Leaving together discreetly will be a little harder, but he’s been doing this for quite a while. They’ll manage.)

“I have transport off-planet,” he tells her. “We should wait a few minutes, not get up right away, but it’s best if we leave sooner rather than later.”

She shakes her head. “I'm not coming with you.”

(He wishes he could say he was surprised.)

He doesn’t turn to look at her, as much as he wants to. “If you’re concerned about reprisals…”

“I’m not,” she says. “Not really. It’s just…not a good idea.”

...and in the interests of “good Lord this thing is probably pushing 10k and it’s not even the full fic it’s an outline,” I’m going to skip the rest of this conversation. Suffice to say, he’s right and she’s wrong, though she takes some convincing, but they leave the cantina together like fifteen minutes later. Also, he confirms that his theory as to her identity was correct somewhere in here.

Anyway, like I said, he talks her down, and she agrees to leave with him.

Once out of the cantina, he can get a better look at her, assess how badly she’s hurt.

(He knows she is for certain now; she’s breathing carefully, shallowly, and a little too fast--but he could only see her hands and the vague shadow of her cowl before.)

“Are you all right?” he asks; even though the answer is obvious; she’s favoring her left side and very pale.

“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” she says.

A characteristic non-answer, but a step above denial. He supposes.

“All right,” he says. “Let me know if you need help.”

(There’s not much else he can do here and now, anyway; they have some supplies back on the Ghost, and she can get proper medical attention once they rendezvous with the fleet.)

“I will,” she says, which is something at least.

They make it two blocks before they run into a squad of stormtroopers.

It’s a routine patrol; and, even with a wounded asset to escort, it wouldn’t have been a problem under most circumstances. He could avoid the confrontation, or talk his way past.

But the squad sergeant stiffens in a particular way, staring at him.

“Karabast,” he mutters.

(You’d think, after all these years, this would stop happening so often. But, no, it’s still even odds that, out in the field, someone will recognize him.)

Lavinia takes half a step back. “I can--”

“They’re not here for you,” he tells her, then drags her behind cover a split second before the troopers start firing.

Then takes a minute to take stock.

This is...not an ideal position for a standoff. And while they might be able to fight their way through...

Best plan is to stay put, hold them off as long as they can, and call in Zeb and Sabine for backup.

Good thing I listened to Kanan, he thinks.

He takes out his sidearm, then pulls his holdout pistol from his boot and offers it to Lavinia.

But she shakes her head. “Father kept my focus narrow. I’d do more harm than good.”

“...right.”

Even less ideal. But it’s all right. He can handle this.

He takes his comm, switches it to the voice setting.

“Specter Four, this is Fulcrum. We’re going to need a slightly more dramatic exit than I planned for.”

“Copy that, Fulcrum,” Zeb says. “Could use an opening, Specter Five.”

“And to think you boys wanted to leave me behind,” Sabine says.

“Yes, yes, can we save the ‘I-told-you-sos’ until after we’re clear?” Kallus says, firing off a handful of shots to keep the squad at bay.

“She does have a point, babe.”

“Not on open comms, dear, how many times...”

(Honestly, the little bit of flirting is at this point half an inside joke, after the one time they legitimately forgot to switch channels, and half a way to quickly gauge how serious the situation actually is.)

(Plus, it’s fun. They like flirting.)

“Thirty seconds,” Sabine cuts in.

“Right,” Zeb says. “I’m headed to your position. ETA two minutes.”

“Copy. Fulcrum out.”

Two minutes, under these conditions, is a long, long time.

But, right on cue, thirty seconds later, there is a magnificent explosion, which gives them some breathing room, and then Sabine slides down the wall to land next to him.

“Not my best work,” she says critically, watching the cloud on the horizon, “but it’ll clear a path. Hi,” she adds, for Lavinia’s benefit.

“Hi,” she says, softly.

“...she doesn’t have a blaster,” Sabine says, turning almost accusingly to Kallus.

“Because I’ve never had one before,” Lavinia answers for him. “And this really doesn’t seem the time or place to learn.”

“Well, we’ll fix that later,” Sabine says.

“All right,” Lavinia says, then ducks down as Sabine positions herself better to start shooting back.

The next ninety seconds go much quicker, and then comes the welcome sound of the Phantom’s engines on approach.

It’ll have to be a quick exit, and for a split second, Kallus wonders about getting Lavinia up the ramp fast enough without Zeb actually landing--

But then he sees that Sabine has her jetpack.

(He has never been so pleased to see it in his life.)

“Take her,” he says, once the shuttle is in sight. “I’ll cover you.”

Sabine catches his drift right away, and nods. “Hold on,” she tells Lavinia, who blinks, but does.

And then they’re off.

Kallus just keeps firing at the troopers until, based on the noise it’s making, he judges that the Phantom is close enough that he can make the jump.

He’s--almost right.

He comes within half an inch of missing, then Lavinia’s hands shoot out and grab one of his wrists; Sabine grabs the other and the girls haul him on board.

“We’re good, Zeb, go!” Sabine shouts, while Lavinia drags Kallus the rest of the way in and slams the hatch shut.

We did it.

He takes a minute to catch his breath--he knows it isn’t really over; there’s still a great deal of work to do once they get back to the Ghost and then to the fleet proper.

But for now--they’re all alive, they’re all safe, they’re all at least as intact as they were when they got to Ixaly; the extraction was successful.

Kallus decides to let the rest of the problems wait, and take the win.

He picks himself up and heads to the cockpit, to give Zeb a quick hug and send word to Kanan and the others.

For all the drama and the worry when it started, today turned out to be a very good day.

And I think that’s a good stopping point, don’t you? There is definitely more, featuring (in no particular order) the worlds most #Awkward Road Trip; Kanan and Lavinia meeting; Kanan and Luke finally meeting; Zeb and Kallus adopting a kid or three; Lando; Jacen being precious; and so much more.

But, uh, see all my notes above about “how long is this thing now?!”

(And, again this isn’t even fulltext.)

(This is just the outline.)

...so, uh, yeah, if you made it this far, thank you and I hope you enjoyed my Self-Indulgent BS(tm). <333333333

#shadowsong26fic #shadowsong writes star wars #shadowsong writes self-indulgent bs #au outlines for the win #tigerkat24

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ladygwyndolin · 7 years ago

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sakinoshiro replied to your post “lmao remember when 17776 was popular on here and everyone said it was...”

What's 17776 tho

i was gonna make a joke and just say “exactly” but i’m actually not gonna be a jerk for once

basically it was this webcomic thing about the far future with a bunch of satellites talking to each other about football and done in a chat-style format and because there were different characters with different typing formats a ton of people on tumblr immediately started talking about how it was just like homestuck (protip: it was nothing like homestuck, they both just had multiple stylistic narrative voices and unconventional story structure, both of which are things you can find in like 10 bazillion pieces of media written before homestuck)

so basically people immediately started going in on it, spamming dashes, drawing tons of humanizations (and you know exactly what the humanizations looked like), making memes, all the typical tumblr fandom stuff. legit drama started nearly instantly (although thankfully it wasn’t widespread) regarding going after people being annoyed with the constant homestuck references (i know i got shit for it) and various other dumb shit like that and it was all because people wanted to establish a strong fandom cuz as far as they were concerned this was gonna be the next big thing for all of the people displaced by the ending of homestuck and blah blah blah

and then like within a week or two everyone just stopped talking about it. i think a lot of people didn’t even finish reading it. i have no clue if it’s still updating, or over, or whatever, but i haven’t seen a single blip on my radar related to it.

i think in part it had to do with the subject matter having a lot to do with football and tumblr being not so big on sports, but tbh i think the main thing was all the HS people expecting more HS because of the random things they decided were purely similar and then finding out that those couple things don’t automatically make something just like HS so they all kinda lost interest

tl;dr it was some story about satellites that a bunch of people, mostly homestucks, got really excited about and then just completely forgot about within a couple weeks

#sakinoshiro

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endeavorsreward · 8 years ago

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Whose Story Is This?: A Defense of Final Fantasy XII

[Note: Cross-Posted at my mostly-crit blog Arbitrary Numbers sometime within twenty-four hours-ish, probably easier to find a permalink there.]

I'd originally intended to write something like this closer to the release of Final Fantasy XII: The Zodiac Age, but I actually had someone reply to this tumblr with a request for it (thanks, @beeperdoop-hiatus ) so I’m going to do this now and reblog it later.

It can be really tiring hearing people repeat the same tired criticisms of FFXII’s story. As a particular fan of that game, I wanted to clarify some details on that score. Let’s get into it.

--Caveat

This article is not intended to be a comprehensive look at the game’s flaws, nor is it meant to suggest the game is above reproach. FFXII is extremely flawed. I think most fans of the game are willing to admit as much, though their reasons may differ. How the game handles race is “problematic” at best and the pacing is very chunky, particularly following Mt. Bur-Omisace, which is almost certainly when Matsuno was officially no longer in the driver’s seat. Some characters (such as Penelo) are significantly underserved and only half the cast truly have arcs. I’d argue the game still says and does more in terms of storytelling than any of the other numbered entries in the franchise, and if your argument is that this speaks less of XII and more of the flaws the others have, that is your prerogative. I’m still inordinately fond of it, however.

This is also not an article about gameplay, as it is solely focused on the game’s overlying narrative and its character journeys. Finally, this article has spoilers for all of FFXII. This game is ten, eleven years old now, but the HD re-release is only months away, so I’m putting the courtesy notice here.

--Facts

The following are indisputable facts:

1.) At some point in development, Yasumi Matsuno stepped down from his lead position on this game. Ivalice’s creator, his focus is frequently relating his games to real world politics (Tactics Ogre, for instance, was inspired by viewing scenes of genocide in Yugoslavia). How much was “left” and how much was “forced” is a matter of some debate.

2.) Over the years, the extent to which Ivalice games, and the satellite games in their orbit such as Vagrant Story, are literally connected has been diminished and then reinstated, both by Matsuno himself and by other representatives at Square-Enix.

3.) At some point in development, Basch was to be the playable character. It is also believed that at some point in development, the same was said of Balthier, who appears to have been “finished” first. What is not ever discussed is how long these ideas were on the table. A year? A week? Thirty minutes? A few throwaway lines in an interview or Ultimania do not clarify this issue.

4.) At some point in development, Vaan and Penelo were added to provide a more traditional youth-oriented viewpoint character. It’s believed that this was because there was concern that a bunch of adults in a thorny political situation would not become a big draw for the usual FF crowd. What is not discussed is when this decision was made - Vaan’s actions drive the plot for roughly one-third of the actual story (roughly until Ashe becomes a permanent member) and Penelo was in the game long enough to have scenes deleted before the game shipped, as evidenced by scenes of her dancing in the early trailers. It’s also rarely pointed-out that young characters in FF are neither a guarantee, nor a sign of how that character will be perceived: Canonically, Cecil of FFIV is 20 (37 in the sequel!), and Cloud of FFVII is 21, but these ages are not necessarily how they’re perceived in the wider fandom of those games, generally speaking. Even in XII itself, Ashe and Vaan are only separated by two years (19 and 17 respectively) but players generally view Ashe as an adult and Vaan as a youth, based solely on demeanor.

--TL;DR

The game’s protagonist is Ashe

The game’s viewpoint character is Vaan

The parallel to Ramza Beoulve is Larsa

The parallel to Delita Heiral is Vayne

The thesis statement is Basch (& Gabranth)

The biggest connection to other Ivalice games is shared by Fran and Al-Cid

The narrator is Penelo

The Leading Man is Balthier

The character we begin with is Reks

The characters who actually move the plot are Cid, Reddas, and Ondore

The most important character is Migelo

If you’d consider this breakdown simplistic, that’s fine - that’s sort of the point.

--What is FFXII about?

Because of the shifts in game development, FFXII is actually about a few things. It’s not clear how many of them were Matsuno’s doing, past the first one. However, despite the unevenness of how these ideas are distributed and layered, they do tend to intersect in ways that make the story work. XII is about, in some respect:

Life under Imperialism, and ways to resist, the perils and necessities of radicalism

What we do (or do not) owe to those who have fallen / the cycle of revenge

Self-loathing, specifically regarding the choices we make when we are young - usually choices we feel are not choices at the time

How did the world of Final Fantasy Tactics happen?

Grappling with the influence of Star Wars on the Final Fantasy franchise

A traditional “JRPG” theme regarding the value of free will in a world of gods

Some of these concepts are more high-falutin’ than others. Some of them are very genre or medium specific. What’s important is that essentially, all themes converge in the moment when Ashe chooses to destroy the Sun-Cryst at the Pharos Lighthouse.

--”Migelo’s not the most important character!”

Says you.

We spend a lot of time with Migelo at the beginning of FFXII, as Vaan is taking us through tutorial stuff and we’re getting a handle on Rabanastre and the layout of Dalmasca. Once the journey begins, however, we don’t see a lot of him. What is Migelo’s role in the story? Other RPG protagonists or viewpoint characters have had parents or parental figures that are left behind, but that is their only job - to be the guardian you leave behind to prove that you’re meant to grow up. But Migelo has scenes with Vayne, the primary antagonist - the final boss - that Vaan does not interrupt. When speaking to NPC’s in town, many are talking about Migelo, more than talk about Vaan himself. Why?

Migelo’s role is also, essentially, a tutorial. As you’re learning how combat, rare game hunts, and the bazaar shop work, Migelo is teaching you how to interpret the story. His role is to introduce the theme and tone, because it’s not like other FF games. I’m not sure if “subtle” is necessarily the right word, but many elements of the game rely upon you understanding the implications of the world that you are in, rather than have the characters constantly reiterating those details to you (this begins to break down towards the end, evidence that Matsuno’s hand had left the wheel a bit).

Everyone in town has an opinion specifically of how exactly Migelo acts with the Archadean Empire. Vaan and Penelo have a two-line exchange to draw attention to this, but many NPCs change dialogue after seeing Migelo kowtow to Vayne (as he’d previously done with the guards to save Vaan at the gate earlier). There is a conflict in Rabanastre between resistance and survival. Migelo places his pride below the safety of the orphans that he looks after. The game does not offer definitive judgement on his actions, but asks that you consider that the question exists. It’s suggested he might “lose” the occasional crate and that it finds its way to Vossler & co., but unlike Vaan, who is consumed with directionless anger after the death of his brother - who uses that anger to place himself and others in danger - Migelo is willing to suffer scorn for the sake of his family in the shadow of the occupying force.

I think it’s pretty pointed that Migelo is wearing, essentially, a yarmulke in his role of shopkeeper who’ll suffer scorn for survival under oppression.

The imperialist nightmare that accounts for Dalmasca’s daily life is reinforced with the only other real town you can visit before the game gets going - Nalbina Fortress, where civilians rebuild their own town so that they can be paid by the people who destroyed it in the first place, even as that town is used as a prisoner for political dissidents. It’s a very potent metaphor for imperialism as a whole. Are these civilians wrong for doing so? The game does not decide. People must feed their families, and the insurgence - pardon, resistance - still exists.

These sequences set the tone for the varied decisions the characters must make or have already made, as the narrative focuses on age seventeen as a person’s fulcrum point.

--I was seventeen, it was a very bad year

The cast of Final Fantasy XII, especially the men, each make important decisions at seventeen:

Basch chooses to leave his homeland of Landis, and Noah chooses to stay behind. Landis is conquered; Noah resents his brother for years. Basch holds firm to his choice, as one would expect of the resolute knight/samurai character, but in rare moments his mask slips and his doubt is laid bare.

Ffamran flees home and his role as a low-ranking judge of the Empire, taking a new name for himself as the pirate Balthier. He claims to have chosen freedom, but his every moment in the game is consumed with thoughts of the father he believed lost to madness. We cannot know for sure, but it is likely that Fran was seventeen, or perhaps the Viera equivalent, when she also chose to leave the Wood.

Reks chooses to fight for his homeland, and specifically for his brother Vaan. He dies after torture and perceived betrayal, broken.

Vayne murders his older brothers at his father’s orders, securing his position as heir to the throne while also losing the confidence of the Imperial Senate. He believes himself damned for his position and is subsequently willing to perform monstrous acts so that his younger brother Larsa can rule free of influence and pain (upon getting magicite infusion and letting the Occurian “heretic” Venat take a ride, this veneer of motivation is stripped away and nothing is left but the monster - it’s not clear how much of this act is motivated by his losing his only friend but he was long past redemption in any case).

As the game opens, the two heroes - Ashe, our protagonist, and Vaan, our viewpoint character, are set to face their journeys. Ashe had her decision taken from her at seventeen - her father and husband were killed and she was spirited away, and so she did not have the agency to make a choice. Vaan is now seventeen and a knot of directionless resentment and anger who has not made a choice.

In the Garif village, Ashe and Vaan have a heart-to-heart in which Vaan explains that he understands his motivations were misguided, but he does not know his place. He tells Ashe that he’ll find his direction with her - through her - and thus when Ashe’s decision comes, it is explicitly designed to determine Vaan’s fate specifically - if he will make a choice that will torture his days the way many others struggle to live with theirs.

--We made a feminist Star Wars by accident

Square-Enix is not... amazing with women. They’ve had many female characters whom women enjoy quite a bit, and I’ve no intention of challenging anyone’s beloved characters. All I mean to say is that when I say “feminist Star Wars by accident,” my tongue is firmly in cheek here, fully self-aware, but that is certainly a way to read what happened.

Final Fantasy has been wrestling with the influence of Star Wars for their whole lifespan. There’s always a Biggs and Wedge, lots of sequences have liberally borrowed... FFIX quotes The Phantom Menace at the end in this bit that really hasn’t aged that well despite largely being a pretty great game. Nobody can be sure at exactly what point it was that they decided to just “do Star Wars” in FFXII - if it was a way to take what they had and make a comprehensible plot in the wake of Matsuno leaving or being asked to leave, if it was Matsuno himself using the skeleton of Star Wars so that his Ivalice story would feel more traditional to other FF fans, if it was a course-correction to Vaan’s late-addition. We can’t know, and it doesn’t especially matter. What does matter is that in doing so, they made a version that’s... better? By certain metrics. Certainly it’s about Star Wars the way that the original film is about the serials Lucas grew up with, but in having Ashe as a protagonist, the journey of the two main characters actually follows a more sensible progression.

Putting aside portrayals for a moment, in a vacuum it would make sense if Princess Leia were the one tempted by the Dark Side, right? She lost so much more than Luke did, her grief and her anger would be so much greater. At any rate, the story of FFXII is essentially a story where we watch Leia through Luke’s eyes, as she is briefly tempted and then refuses that power, which would enable her revenge.

Ashelia B’nargin Dalmasca seems to be a difficult character for much of the game’s audience... well, at least much of the game’s male audience? - to wrap their minds around. She’s wearing some ridiculous FF sex appeal clothing, and all of the game’s advertising pivots her as being very coy or demure or traditionally feminine, but in the game she’s kind of a bitch - and I say that as a compliment. Square-Enix can use that key art of her touching her nose all they want, but this is an angry woman who suffered and wants to inflict that suffering, for much of the game. The “problem” is that Ashe is not masculine, not a “man with breasts” female character, but her journey is usually one given to men. She has a love interest die in order to motivate her, and she has to learn to give up her revenge before she does something monstrous - for part of the game she actually considers genocide, until being confronted with the means to achieve it.

If many characters in XII parallel those in FFT in different forms, Ashe is the parallel for Wiegraf Folles - the hero who fell, and the heroine who almost does, both of them the holder of Belias the Gigas first and foremost.

The plot of XII echoes Star Wars more or less beat for beat as we follow desert rat Vaan and his rogue allies and wiser companion until they rescue the princess... at which point the plot still echoes the film, except the princess is clearly the protagonist and upon being rightfully restored, the focus remains upon her.

“Gamers” who bring up “who could have been the main character” are all alike in a very specific way. They all claim that Vaan is bad, and that Basch or Balthier should have been the main character based on some notes about the game’s development. But they all steadfastly refuse to acknowledge that the game’s protagonist is currently Ashe.

It is Ashe who wants to leave Bhujerba and go after Raithwall’s treasure. It is Ashe who wants to speak to the Garif to learn how to unlock the magicite’s power. It is Ashe who agrees to accompany Larsa to Mt. Bur-Omisace, who wants to go to Archades as badly as Balthier, who follows Cid into Giruvegan, who decides to climb the Pharos, who declares she will enter Bahamut and stop Vayne.

And every step of the way, Ashe is advised by men, not left alone by men, her decisions are judged by men. And in fairness to the characters, some of that is deserved. Ashe cannot bear to shatter the stone with the sword, she talks about accruing power. She is the rightful Dynast-Queen and the stone only responds to her, but she speaks in terms far beyond freeing her realm from occupation. But Ondore treats her as a figurehead and does not want her to act with her own agency, Balthier and Fran snipe at her constantly and Balthier especially cannot view her decisions through any lens but his issues with his own father. Al-Cid flirts, Vossler infantalizes, Larsa tries to hold the moral high ground, and Vaan keeps interrupting her.

“I am no false saint for you to use!”

Again and again...

“I am simply myself. No more and no less. And I want only to be free.”

...Ashe tries to reclaim her agency. Her Quickening quotes are ”I must endure” and “I must be strong” and “I must believe.”

The “insurgence” vs. “resistance” joke is a pretty loaded one, because on the one hand, it’s about politics, about how imperialism views resistance, how the narrative can be changed, but on the other it’s about attempts to strip Ashe’s identity away and give her a different one.

Ashe does not get the choice at seventeen, and so at nineteen she stands at the top of the Pharos at Ridorana and Gabranth takes the Darth Vader role, the Emperor role as well: accept the power offered, let revenge damn you. And what she sees is Vaan pick up the sword, and look to her.

The defining moment of Final Fantasy XII is but a spare few seconds as these two young people share a single look. Vaan is at the point of his seventeen-year-old decision here, and Ashe at last has the agency to make a choice. Vaan is many things in this moment - a sort of younger brother figure, in the Luke Skywalker role. Literally one of her subjects, and thus a symbol for her as queen, for how she will consider the welfare of her citizens over everything else as a ruler. As a younger version of all of these men who have pushed her, even as a younger version of herself, less far-gone in being lost to hate.

And because she’s the hero of the story, she discards the stone. And inspires Vaan as well to cast his desire for revenge aside. She inspires him so fully that at the game’s end Vaan uses Gabranth’s blade to land the final blow to help enable Gabranth’s dying redemption.

The focal moment of the story, and it does not work without Vaan there - Vaan is necessary to make the story work.

--Vaan and the male “Gamer”

If you want to know why a certain sort of game-player is so insistent upon reminding you at every moment that Vaan was not always intended to be in FFXII, I think you need look no further than the above image, which is official artwork.

There’s nothing about the above image to appeal to a straight male “gamer.” I’m a straight cis male myself, so I’ll not make assumptions as to whether anyone else likes the look.

Vaan’s abs have been a meme for a decade because of the bizarre choice in how they chose to render them in game, it’s true. In that respect, he’s always looked weird. The rest of his character design is pretty obvious, however. He’s a desert street rat, Vaan Ratsbane, and so he’s meant to explicitly reference Aladdin. The shirtless vest, the band around his waist. But this is a major promotional image, and it’s relying upon a sex appeal you don’t normally see in male video game characters.

Vaan is a viewpoint character, but he is not the protagonist. Vaan is who you control as you run errands. Ashe talks to gods. Balthier looks cool standing at the rim of a prison arena and saying fantasy-racist slurs to provoke some bullies. Basch gets to have noble speeches. Vaan provides comic relief and his most-known moment is when he claims to be someone else to attract attention.

A certain contingent of those who play games do so in order to be supplied with a power fantasy, a wish fulfillment. One would think having Vaan get the best stats and stand up to Gilgamesh and Zodiark and Ultima and Vayne would be enough, but the game does not treat Vaan as wish fulfillment in that way. And they can tell.

Cloud Strife, in the original Final Fantasy VII, is actually a scared and lonely boy who has constructed a personality around himself that appears cool, detached, and badass. Ostensibly the game is about peeling that shell back to see the the boy beneath. But the game’s style, the length of time spent on the “badass” part, and the way the spin-off media treats the character have all worked to leave the traditional gamer affirmed. They’re riding the motorcycle, they’re fighting in the Gold Saucer arena, they’re battling Sephiroth. Final Fantasy XII does not do this.

The character above is not wish-fulfillment for men in part by looks - he is not muscled, he is not “cool” the way Balthier is, and his biggest cutscene action is screaming as he stabs the enemy with someone else’s sword. He’s not wish-fulfillment in the game itself because despite his good stats, every character can play every role competently (even if in the job system, certain characters using certain jobs will be very sub-optimal), and in general viewpoint characters are rarely wish-fulfillment because every other character knows more about what’s going on than they do. Ivalice is a complicated world, and somebody needs to have it explained to them or the player will not be able to follow along, but many players hate getting explanations.

It’s not his youth, either, I hasten to point out: Ramza was young. Denam was young. Nobody has ever taken issue with them in the way they have Vaan. It’s specific issues with Vaan that they have.

He’s more “feminine,” despite being perfectly capable at all times. It’s the lady in the pink miniskirt who does all the cool hero stuff. That’s what people hate. That’s why they always namecheck Basch or Balthier. Despite the game’s plot hinging on Ashe, the character they want to be is a more traditional male hero.

A viewpoint character is especially important in FFXII, however, when you consider that the game is not necessarily played in a vacuum.

--XII as prequel

It’s hard to tell exactly what shape XII would have taken before the outside influences. It’s easy to believe that with Matsuno leading the whole way, it would be a better and more complete work, but we can’t ever really know. It’s interesting to view XII through a lens where its relation to the other Ivalice games matter, however, because many decisions have rather more import when that knowledge exists. The game plays differently when you’re playing it as a prequel, versus a game of its own.

The Final Fantasy Tactics continent of Loar exists in XII-era Rozarria, somewhere far-off to the west. And Rozarria is (if you’ll pardon the term) the “Phantom Menace” of FFXII, always lurking in the shadows, always looming over events. Many, many of the decisions that many characters make in the game are motivated by the knowledge that any provocation could bring Rozarria into the fray more actively, and in so doing cause a war that would wipe out Dalmasca completely. After all, as Migelo would tell you, occupation is monstrous, but it’s better than death. And so Rozarria becomes, in a sense, the spectre of Final Fantasy Tactics itself, always just out of frame, never forgotten. It is Rozarria in the final act which enacts the false flag operation which leads to the climax - an explicitly Dycedarg maneuver!

Al-Cid invites Ashe to visit the Ambervale of Clan Margrace when the hostilities have ceased. The “Ambervale,” of course, was the site of the final battle in Final Fantasy Advance, the game where we first meet Montblanc at a younger age. The other games aren’t forgotten.

Final Fantasy XII occurs pre-Cataclysm, and establishes that there have been many such world-ending events in the past. Out of control nanotechnology, Esper wars, all sorts of events (almost assuredly the inspiration for how FFXIV treats its Calamities). This is a deliberate tie to FFXII’s use of the cycle of revenge and hostility, but it also prompts the informed player to watch the game’s events as a sort of ramp-up to the Cataclysm. We don’t run into Ajora or Germonique here, we don’t see the Cataclysm occur, but the game is asking the player to understand the way these political battles become events that cannot be walked back, how small events can have ramifications, how sickly ironic viewpoints can be in retrospect.

The Viera maintain their isolationism even after being confronted with matters of global scale. In ninety years’ time, the Viera will cease to exist, making this sequence a tragedy in a way it does not for a player who does not know the other games.

Bergan (& Venat) kill the Light of Kiltias and end the Kiltian religion. As a consequence, Pharism will spread and Ajora will rise up to create the events of FFT.

Larsa, the youngest brother, echoes Ramza in demeanor, in signature weapon, in naivety about his elder brother, only to stand a hero in the name of peace.

Vayne may have motivations that stem from love and justice, but his actions are monstrous. Here’s a key: next go-round, note the way the word “Necessity” recurs through his story, and compare it to how Delita’s story uses the word “Endeavor.”

We learn Ultima’s origin, we see why Zodiark is different, we form a connection with Belias.

The Mist is introduced as a central element (inspired by FFIX, which was in turn inspired in places by Tactics), while knowing the Mist will no longer exist post-Cataclysm, which suggests all sorts of things about why the magick system is different and the world is so changed.

These things are not necessary to the understanding of the game’s story - some references to the past are even the sole provenance of the localizers (calling the naturalist “Merlose” in the Clan Primer is just Alex O. Smith having fun, for instance) - but the weight of history - and of the future - very much solidifies ideas that the game is already talking about.

--And so

The expression “The whole is greater than the sum of its parts” could have been invented for Final Fantasy XII, because it’s quite obvious that many parts were created with different goals in mind. There is noticeable friction between those parts in many places (isn’t it weird that they get captured and then escape from the same ship twice in just a few hours of gametime? Or, I get that him being Boba Fett makes this part of the joke, but Ba’Gamnan is really sort of a dead end, huh?) but the whole of XII works, and if that’s in spite of itself, that doesn’t matter, only that it does.

And there are many valid criticisms to level at the game, but the predominance of certain criticisms, the laser-focus of a certain type of “gamer,” suggests that those issues have less to do with the game itself than with certain other reasons.

I look forward to playing The Zodiac Age in a few months, as I’ve never gotten to play the IZJS edition of the game. That is very much the draw for me, rather than the visual improvements - I find myself quite nervous about how those are going to go, actually, and not every single change to IZJS was wholly positive, even if many of them are - and it’s always nice to have an excuse to revisit one of my favorite titles. Gameplay-wise, XII was somewhat ahead of its time. It took titles like Xenoblade to catch up to what XII was doing with its west-meets-east, MMO-inspired flavor, and I’m rather fond of it despite its issues.

But mostly, I’m hoping it’s a chance for many to go back and reexamine a game that was and is very unfairly maligned, and especially so for the wrong reasons.

#Musings #Ashe #Vaan #Migelo #Balthier #Fran #Larsa #Penelo #Basch #Vayne #Gabranth #Cloud #FFXII

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