#fennec London

[woso-dreamzzz]

having such a shitty day, but I can’t stop thinking about squish, guppy, and osita 😭 hope you’re doing well!

I'm sorry you're having a bad day! Mine was alright. I had that post-exam hangover and went out to the Carvery with my best friend and we talked for a few hours because I go back to London Sunday morning. Have some complementary hcs for the kids:

Arsenal are dropping like flies with injuries and all of them are now exempt from chores and responsibilities because Guppy has taken them up. Lia, still injured, is desperately hobbling after Guppy to try to get her to relax.

Osita has found out from Codi and Mariona that fennec foxes can be exotic pets. She has now thrown herself head first into research in them so she can impress Jenni enough to let her get one.

Squish is very excited that the wsl season is nearly over because it means Frida comes home! She is currently foraging like her life depends on it to have enough berries and mushrooms to make Frida a nice meal and some pie to celebrate her return.

[silicon-switchblade]

we danced all night: a social history of britain between the wars || a 1920s quackbur web weave

1 // I Have Mixed Feelings About New York / How to run from the mess you made - Johann Deckmann / Atlantis—A Lost Sonnet - Eaven Boland / Decadence, Sleaze, and Excess - Jefferey West / Anaesthetic - Vinegar and Brown Paper / Shitty Horoscopes Vol. IX: The Body and The Wreckage - Amrit Brar / What Survived patch - Amrit Brar / Trash Blessings - businessfish / Aftermath of a Quarrel Between Gangsters - Dean Cornwell / cyani07 / Fever Dream - Dappermouth / You Are A Victim of the Rules You Live By - Jenny Holzer, via poeticsuggestions / live weird die weirder - Amrit Brar / Seven Deadly Sins - grorges

2 // incaseart / Poems From an Email Exchange - Hanif Abdurraquib / A Crazy Night in the Museum - Shira Barzilay / Psychopathia Sexualis - Richard von Krafft-Ebing / I Am A Member Of An Immoral Subculture / konkonnsfw / Trash Blessings - businessfish / asofterworld 830 / Creophagy - Angelica Alzona / sense and moderation - normal-horoscopes / The Sunday Post 1922 / The Sunday Sentinel 1929 / Aberdeen Press and Journal 1928 / Hull Daily Mail 1934 / Dundee Evening Telegraph 1913 / Nottingham Evening Post 1934 / Western Morning News 1928

3 // Peaches - libbyframe / Shitty Horoscopes Vol. VIII: Medicine - Amrit Brar / asofterworld 854 / The Sun - Edvard Munch / Marquees - Jenny Holzer / Trash Blessings - businessfish / Shitty Horoscopes Vol. XI: Illuminate - Amrit Brar / cyani07 / ka (marukogedago) / Heaven Will Be Mine / List of things I would do if I wasn't afraid - Johann Deckmann / Inspiration - Amrit Brar / The Lovers - The Marigold Tarot / Nothing is beyond repair - Vinegar and Brown Paper / noxious-fennec / The Pictoral Plan of London, 1923 - Geographica

[heavenlyhoundoom]

Here's an expansion on Luna's family tree.

1.Sirius Space(granduncle)

Species: Celestial(star).

Color: White.

Eye color: Light blue.

Age: 62

Date of birth: 5/3/1969(♉️)

Birthplace: Syracuse, New York.

Former occupation: Soldier(has retired).

2.Celeste Space(grandaunt)

Species: Celestial(galaxy).

Color: Red and blue.

Eye color: Yellow.

Age: 62

Date of birth: 6/18/1969(♊️)

Birthplace: Palmyra, New York.

Former occupation: Art teacher(has since retired)

3.Juno Nebula(grandaunt)

Species: Celestial(planet).

Color: Green.

Eye color: Amber.

Age: 59

Date of birth: 10/5/1972(♎️)

Birthplace: Palmyra, New York.

Occupation: Pet groomer.

4.Frankie Fennec(granduncle)

Species: Fennec fox.

Fur color: Cream.

Eye color: Blue.

Age: 59

Date of birth: 8/11/1972(♌️)

Birthplace: Carrizozo, New Mexico.

Occupation: Retail manager.

5.Harry Pocus

Species: Wizard.

Skin color: Blue.

Eye color: Yellow.

Age: 58

Date of birth: 1/18/1973(♑️)

Birthplace: Macedon, New York.

Occupation: Toy maker.

6.Belle Woolington

Species: Sheep.

Wool color: White.

Eye color: Purple.

Age: 58

Date of birth: 3/26/1973(♈️)

Birthplace: London, UK.

Occupation: Secretary.

(I know the technical term for your parent's cousin is first cousin once removed, but they're gonna be referred to as aunt/uncle to keep things simple).

1.Uncle Hunter

Species: Celestial(moon).

Color: Red.

Eye color: Yellow.

Age: 35

Date of birth: 10/31/1996(♏️)

Birthplace: Syracuse, New York.

Occupation: Butcher.

2.Aunt Lizzy

Species: Dragon.

Scale color: Blue.

Eye color: Pink.

Age: 35

Date of birth: 8/5/1996(♌️)

Birthplace: Syracuse, New York.

Occupation: Artist.

3.Uncle Scythe

Species: Celestial(moon).

Color: White and red.

Eye color: Red.

Age: 35

Date of birth: 10/31/1996(♏️)

Birthplace: Syracuse, New York.

Occupation: Graphic designer.

4.Aunt Mia

Species: House cat.

Fur color: Black.

Eye color: Purple.

Age: 35

Date of birth: 5/28/1996(♊️)

Birthplace: Albany, New York.

Occupation: Acupuncturist.

5.Uncle Lunar

Species: Celestial(moon).

Color: Blue.

Eye color: Light blue.

Age: 32

Date of birth: 7/12/1999(♋️)

Birthplace: Syracuse, New York.

Occupation: Confecntioner.

6.Auncle Gemini(they/them)

Species: Celestial(constellation).

Color: Blue and yellow.

Eye color: Same.

Age: 32

Date of birth: 6/4/1999(♊️)

Birthplace: Newark, New Jersey.

Occupation: Magic teacher.

7.Aunt Venus

Species: Celestial(planet).

Color: Cream.

Eye color: Amber.

Age: 34

Date of birth: 4/30/1997(♉️)

Birthplace: Aurora, New York.

Occupation: Wrestler.

8.Uncle Brock

Species: Badger

Fur color: Black and white.

Eye color: Yellow.

Age: 34

Date of birth: 7/25/1997(♌️)

Birthplace: Canandaigua, New York.

Occupation: Construction worker.

9.Auntie Earth

Species: Celestial(planet)

Color: Blue and green.

Eye color: Blue.

Age: 31

Date of birth: 9/6/2000(♍️)

Birthplace: Aurora, New York.

Occupation: Hair stylist.

10.Uncle Monty

Species: Alligator.

Scale color: Green.

Eye color: Red.

Age: 31

Date of birth: 3/17/2000(♓️)

Birthplace: Naples, Florida.

Occupation: Golfer.

(Cousins)

1.Nova

Gender: Female.

Species: Celestial(moon)/dragon hybrid.

Color: Purple.

Eye color: Pink.

Age: 10

Date of birth: 3/29/2021(♈️)

Birthplace: Rochester, New York.

Future career: Game developer.

2.Indigo

Gender: Male.

Species: Celestial(moon).

Eye color: Pink.

Age: 8

Date of birth: 6/13/2023(♊️)

Birthplace: Rochester, New York.

Future career: Nurse.

3.Poppy

Gender: Female.

Species: Dragon.

Scale color: Red.

Eye color: Yellow.

Age: 6

Date of birth: 8/12/2025(♌️)

Birthplace: Rochester, New York.

Future career: Tour guide.

4.Rufus

Gender: Male.

Species: House cat.

Fur color: Red.

Eye color: Purple.

Age: 7

Date of birth: 5/16/2024(♉️)

Birthplace: Syracuse, New York.

Future career: Movie director.

5.Ayla

Gender: Female.

Species: Celestial(moon).

Color: White and black.

Eye color: Pink.

Age: 5

Date of birth: 9/10/2026(♍️)

Birthplace: Syracuse, New York.

Future career: Sushi chef.

6.Olive(She's adopted)

Gender: Female.

Species: Rabbit.

Fur color: Gray.

Eye color: Brown.

Age: 2

Date of birth: 4/7/2029(♈️)

Birthplace: Buffalo, New York.

Future career: Mayor of Buffalo.

7.Summer

Gender: Female.

Species: Alligator.

Scale color: Green and blue.

Eye color: Red.

Age: 8

Date of birth: 7/14/2023(♋️)

Birthplace: Aurora, New York.

Future career: Swim coach.

(Great grandparents and great grand aunts/uncles. The women won't have jobs because things were much more conservative during their time period).

1.Apollo Space

Species: Celestial(star).

Color: Yellow.

Eye color: Light blue.

Age: 80 (at death).

Date of birth: 2/9/1945(♒️)

Birthplace: Syracuse, New York.

Date of death: 4/21/2025

Cause of death: Old age.

Former occupation: Banker.

2.Starla Space

Species: Celestial(star).

Color: White.

Eye color: Pink.

Age: 82(at death)

Date of birth: 3/12/1945(♓️)

Birthplace: Palmyra, New York.

Date of death: 8/6/2027

Cause of death: Old age.

3.Merlin Pocus

Species: Wizard.

Skin color: Peach.

Hair color: Black.

Eye color: Yellow.

Age: 85

Date of birth: 5/8/1946(♉️)

Birthplace: Palmyra, New York.

Former occupation: Magician(has retired).

4.Brooke Pocus

Species: Witch.

Skin color: Blue.

Hair color: White.

Eye color: Purple.

Age: 85

Date of birth: 1/27/1946(♒️)

Birthplace: Salem, Massachusetts.

5.Caleb Pouch

Species: Opossum.

Fur color: Blue.

Eye color: Amber.

Age: 79

Date of birth: 6/20/1952(♊️)

Birthplace: Washington, Connecticut.

Former occupation: Doctor(has retired)

6.Madison Pouch

Species: Opossum.

Fur color: Gray.

Eye color: Brown.

Age: 79

Date of birth: 4/1/1952(♉️)

Birthplace: Northville, Connecticut.

7.Nathan Possum

Species: Opossum.

Fur color: White.

Eye color: Purple.

Age: 71(at death)

Date of birth: 3/2/1947(♓️)

Birthplace: Palmyra, New York.

Date of death: 9/15/2028

Cause of death: Heart attack.

Former occupation: Cashier.

8.Chole Possum

Species: Opossum.

Fur color: Red.

Eye color: Green.

Age: 84

Date of birth: 2/8/1947(♒️)

Birthplace: Macedon, New York.

[jaws-and-canines]

If I Feel Something, My Body Betrayed Me

A Verschlimmbessern AU. Instead of defecting, Fennec is returned to his home country in a prisoner exchange. Contains depictions of suicide and self-harm, death references, brief mentions of rape, and themes of mental illness. The title is from this song.

---

They brought him to the border at Dover with a black bag over his head and his hands zip-tied in front of him. He didn’t really mind, at that point, he just fell asleep in the back of the car. The bulletproofing muffled the road noise. All he could really hear was his own tinnitus- that was new, and had started after he had been held underwater for a little too long. He was sure there was no more water in his ear but the ringing remained stubbornly.

It was a quiet affair, not much to it. This had been repeated hundreds of times- the absolute extreme of diplomacy the Eurocorps would engage in with the State of London City were wordless prisoner exchanges- so it ran like a well-oiled machine. Both sides set their prisoners loose at the same time. There was a pause as they cut Fennec loose from the zip tie, and he saw that the Eurocorps had brought the Englishman without even handcuffs- but he supposed they must still think he was going to run. He started to walk towards the border, not slow, but not fast either. He had no intention of prolonging it.

He’d thought about running but there was nowhere to run to anymore. All that would do would get everyone here killed, and quite possibly start a hot war- not the cold one the two countries sat in at present. He had no intention of being shot and bleeding to death on the tarmac here. It was, and he knew now, not nearly as peaceful as they made out it was in books. If you weren’t lucky enough to die immediately then you were going to suffer.

On the other hand, there was no need to restrain the Englishman. He was going home. He passed the Englishman- the man’s family waiting in a Department of State Affairs car a little way behind the border for him.

Fennec wished he was going home, but he knew he wasn’t. The federal police were waiting for him, and he could see them, and yet he kept walking- limping- towards them. He crossed into French territory and didn’t feel any different. They were waiting for him just over the border. The hand on his arm surprised him how quick it was- he was expecting to have to walk a little further.

It’s over, he thought. It’s all over.

“Anton Von Fennec?” asked the policeman. 

He nodded slowly, looking between the three of them there. “How long were you waiting here?” was the only thing he could think to ask. Five hours, they said. Fennec looked at the warrant they showed him, shrugged, and just walked with them to the back of the car in silence. They didn’t put him in handcuffs. There was no need.

They travelled back in silence as well. The pressure in the plane gave Fennec a headache and made the pins in his leg ache, and so he sat pitched forwards in his seat, head in his hands. The officers on either side of him kept a quiet eye on him but said nothing. There was nothing to say.

---

He cooperated with the interrogations, and gave them everything he knew. In return they allowed Alais to come and see him- and whilst Alais spoke to him, they looked after Sabine, not much more than a toddler, laughing and pointing at things that took her interest. The rural police who had brought Alais down were delighted. The federal police who had taken Fennec into custody were not so delighted.

Alais was offered the option to have one of the officers sit in with them. She turned the offer down and just walked in without any sort of prelude. Staring at his wife over the top of a cup of weak tea, Fennec thought he was hallucinating again- until she opened her mouth. “You’re an idiot,” she said. “What the fuck were you thinking?”

Not hallucinating, then, he realised. He held up a finger to her, motioning for her to sit down, took a sip of his tea and put the cup back down. “How much do you know?” he asks.

“You’re an idiot, Ant,” she repeated, sitting down.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I was afraid. I didn’t want to drag you into this, you know?” he said, looking up at her, and then his face cracked into grief, and he had to hide his head in his hands to stifle the sobs. “I’m sorry,” he sobbed. “I didn’t want to drag you into this.”

She waited patiently for him to pull himself together before she told him that they were going to get through this, together, at which point Fennec promptly dissolved like sugar. She leant over the table and put a hand on his- glancing at the two-way mirror, not sure if she was even allowed to touch him- and gave his arm a little squeeze.

---

The hearings started the moment they could find the people to hear them. He was not a flight risk, having nowhere to run anymore, but the magistrate drew up a pretrial detention order all the same, citing the exceptional gravity of the case. The defence lawyer- an old man who seemed to walk with the weight of the world on his shoulders- asked Fennec if he would like to appeal. He shook his head, making some weak excuse about time and effort or something or other.

The lawyer saw right through him. “You don’t want to go home, do you?”

Fennec burst into tears right there and then, shaking his head. They didn’t appeal the detention order.

He didn’t, as he thought he might, cry when they took him to the detention centre- instead he found himself drenched in a cold sweat the moment the building came into sight. A rather unappetising shade of grey, with windows set behind metal grilles, and the bright burn of fluorescent lights behind them. 

It remained a quiet affair, unremarkable for what it represented. The locked gates behind him, between him and the outside world made him a little uneasy. They showed him around the places he would be allowed to go, and then went through the rules- handed to him in a ring-bound booklet, laid out point by point. 

Fennec swore to Alais he was taking it well, but seemed like he was wasting away. He lost weight, a nervous demeanour clinging to him at all times that meant he ate very little, smoked too much, and paced whenever the pain would let him. Expecting to be beaten, his pulse would quicken with his heart pounding against his chest each time his name was called for something- but the blows never landed, and were never thrown anywhere except for in his mind.

---

For a few weeks, there were talks of sending him to the Hague. In the end that never materialised- the examining judge looked at the evidence, at the interrogation records, the testimonies of the people on the boat that had made it home- and decided there was not really much basis to convict him of a war crime on. Charges of treason were similarly drawn up, and thrown out on the basis that again, there really was no indication that Fennec had meant anything to come of all the bad decisions he had made, and the penal code states that unless there is a specific charge for negligently committing a crime, nothing will stand without intent behind it.

The six charges- five for the State soldiers who had died on the barge, one for Atticus, whom he had killed- all started out as murder without aggravating circumstances- Totschlag- but the more evidence that was brought up, the less culpable Fennec became in the eyes of the court. The soldiers from the Horatio, and even the remaining officers all said the same things- painting Fennec as incompetent, oblivious and negligent, but not a murderer. The blame ended up mostly on the dead- Christoph Fride and Atticus Raines. The forensic evidence from the dead soldiers agreed- blame the dead.

The question of what had led up to Atticus’ death came up and lingered for several days. Fennec had confessed to what had happened in as much detail as he remembered it. The forensics didn’t exonerate him- the bullet that was dug out of Atticus’ body belonged to his sidearm, but, again, the survivors came to his defence. Several of the soldiers testified that Atticus had begged to be killed- and Fennec sat on the defendant’s bench and wondered why they would exonerate him in such a way when they could have simply left him to rot.

They ran through each of the cases of the dead soldiers- finding duty records from god-knows-where, proving where Fennec was at the time each of the soldiers died or was killed, and found that in three of the five cases, he had been asleep at the time, and that Fride had been the one at fault. Those charges were dropped. Still Fennec couldn’t fathom why they would go to such lengths for him. He didn’t understand it.

In the end the case was brought for two counts of negligent killing, and one of killing upon request. Negligent killing demanded a prison sentence of up to five years, killing upon request from six months to five years. The prosecutor and the defence lawyer talked for a very long time, and in the end, came to an agreement of nine years- two and a half for each of the counts of negligence, and four for the other charge.

---

Fennec was taken back to prison and there he languished. There wasn’t really a better word for it. 

He started paintings and then never finished them. He cleaned what he was asked to clean, dusting and vacuuming his cell, and went where he was asked to go, did what he was asked to do. Let someone else do the thinking for him. He resented the psychologist’s attempts to make him think about things that seemed too enormous to understand in their fortnightly half-hour meetings- in his mind, it was simple. He was there because he was to be made accountable for his own guilt. The crime led to guilt, which led to the penalty, as simple as dominoes.

Alais visited once a month- the journey up was long and Sabine needed someone at home. One day she would be old enough to come too, but Fennec maintained she was not to see him in prison, not to come and visit.

“You don’t want to see your daughter?” asked Alais.

“I want to see her very much. I don’t want her to see me,” said Fennec. “Children should not be exposed to such things.”

Alais just stared at him until he elaborated. It took a few moments, Fennec missing the non-verbal cue for a long beat. Eventually it clicked. “I don’t want her to think this is something to aspire to, or something normal.” He scratched at the back of his head. “She needs to be old enough to understand why I’m here. Right now, she is not.”

At last Alais understood his insistence. The next week, in the mail, came a little pink bear from Sabine’s bed. The letter said, in Alais’ unrestrained cursive, that she had picked it out for her father. Fennec thought about sending it back on principle, but relented. He set it on the shelving above his desk, watching him. He fell asleep looking at it and dreamed of his daughter.

He woke up in tears, putting a hand to his face and finding it damp. With a groan of pain, he sat up in bed, put both feet on the floor and staggered over to the desk. He turned the bear around to face the wall, and then limped back over to his bed, hauling his bad leg onto the mattress with a hand beneath it.

Each time they searched the cells- which they did with some regularity, but not too often- he watched them go through his paintings, on thick paper with their edges warped with water from the watercolours, and wondered what they thought of them. 

“What is this?” she said, holding up the pink bear.

“It is from my daughter,” he said.

They took the stuffing out of the bear onto his desk. Fennec looked at the bear and the bear’s white insides strewn all over the light wood desk, and thought that him and the bear must not look too dissimilar. Satisfied, they moved on to searching him, a simple frisk down his body, turning out his pockets. There was no reason to think he was harbouring anything. He winced as they felt down his left leg, but never said anything. He put the stuffing back in the bear and put it back on the shelf.

---

A few weeks passed and he found himself exhausted. He wasn’t sleeping and he didn’t know why. He couldn’t draw and he didn’t know why. He sat up late one night trying to finish a drawing- trees casting a shadow over leaves- and nothing looked right. Nothing he put on paper looked right. A few more lines and the drawing looked worse. Nothing looked or felt right but he couldn’t for the life of him put a finger on why. He went to sharpen his pencil and the pencil snapped.

He picked up another pencil, trembling with frustration. He put the pencil into the pencil sharpener and slowly twisted. The pencil sharpener unceremoniously broke in two. The blade came loose from the yellow plastic and bounced across the table. He cried a few quiet tears of frustration over it, and then when the tears cleared from his eyes enough that he could see what he was doing, his gaze fell on the blade from the pencil sharpener, lying on his desk. He stared at it for a few moments, the idea half-forming in his head.

He picked it up and held it for a moment, before the idea took hold of him entirely. He raked the blade down both arms. The blood welled up almost immediately, spilling down onto his trousers and shirt. He went back to bed with the intention of not waking up in the morning, fluffing the pillows even as he smeared blood over them, rolling onto his side to get comfortable as he bled through the sheets and into the mattress. Later on, he couldn’t quite explain what had come over him. Nothing more succinct than he was tired, and he wanted to go to sleep, and it seemed like the quickest way to do it.

They found him on his bed, bleeding wrists clutched to his chest, half-asleep. The remains of the pencil sharpener were snapped underfoot. The guards couldn’t rouse him, and thinking he was dead, tried to drag him onto the floor to start CPR, until one of them pressed down on the muscle between his neck and collarbone, and his eyes flew open with a startled cry. 

---

He spent the next few days curled up on a bed in the infirmary. The psychotherapist thought that it amounted to guilt and guilt alone. He refused to speak to the psychotherapist, sitting in silence until the clock ran down. 

He wouldn’t speak to the psychiatrist either. They sat looking at each other in silence, the psychiatrist looking through Fennec’s records, including the sheets translated from English that described Fennec’s episodes of mania where he had neglected to sleep or eat, obsessed with the thought that the pigeons outside were sent from Germany to spy on him, and accused anyone and everyone around him of trying to poison him. 

Every sort of food or drink they brought him, they had somehow poisoned- there were several pages of incident reports full of the bizarre logic of psychosis, ranging from the mundane of slipping poison into the drink when he wasn’t looking, to poisoning the cows the meat came from using an undetectable poison designed to be hidden on blood work. He itched himself raw on his arms in his stress and blamed it on the poison. He was moved into a room with no windows to see if that would help, and swore he could hear the birds in the walls.

Eventually, convinced he was being poisoned by one side and spied on by the other, a terrified Fennec had tried desperately to smash a window to throw himself out of. That was enough for the State’s psychiatrists to act decisively. Brought on by antidepressants, they had put a stop to it with a course of high-dose thorazine and electroconvulsive therapy. 

The psychiatrist asked Fennec about the birds. “Do they still follow you?”

Fennec looked up, the first time he had since he sat down. He just shook his head, almost imperceptibly. The psychiatrist eventually gave up and wrote a repeat prescription for antidepressants and lithium, not knowing what else to do with the silent man in front of him. 

---

Fennec returned to languishing. He had to pay from his accounts- a mix of earnings and what Alais had paid in for him- for the new mattress. The old one was unsalvageable and sent off to be burnt. The gashes up his arms needed to be glued back together. He didn’t read any of the letters Alais sent, and for several weeks didn’t send one back, until she showed up, and he felt too guilty not to sit down with her and explain what had happened.

She took it surprisingly well. “That wasn’t a good idea, was it?”

He shrugged, leaning on the table with all his weight. “No.”

She asked the question nobody had thought to ask. “Are you having trouble sleeping?”

He nodded silently, again those tears welling up in his eyes.

She put a hand on his as he picked and pulled at the bandages, fraying the edges. “If you want a decent bit of sleep I can send you a dream-catcher.”

He agreed to the dream-catcher on the condition that Sabine was never to find out about the suicide attempt- though he wasn’t entirely sure that was what it was. He’d not really been trying to kill himself, but his actions spoke to the contrary. Either way, Sabine didn’t need to know. Again he repeated his reasoning- she’s too young, and children should not be exposed to such things- and Alais understood. 

Every letter Alais sent to him from then on, he answered. The dreamcatcher went up on his corkboard. He started finishing the paintings he had started. He didn’t try to kill himself again. He didn’t really see the point- and as the antidepressants kicked in and the mood stabiliser levelled him out, he felt a lot more human again. Still, they kept him on suicide watch for six months, checking at his door every fifteen minutes. He slept right through it at night, and didn’t really mind it during the day. Some of the officers would even stop for a chat if his door was propped open, which it always was when he was painting.

---

They signed him off for day release at some point, and for his full allowance of leave a year- twenty-one days, to be taken at holidays and special occasions, reliant on Alais to pick him up and sign for his return. He wouldn’t go anywhere- he didn’t have anywhere to go- and it never became any easier to leave them each time he went back. Most of the holidays, he wound up sitting in an armchair in the corner of whatever room they were in, staring into the fireplace, lit or not. The entire extended family knew about where he was most of the time, and they made it painfully obvious, even though they didn’t mean to.

He preferred the day release. A company took him on as a painter and decorator. He just walked to work in the nearby town every morning and spent his days in overalls, plastering and painting. It felt good to be making something with his hands, to see the walls fill in and smell the paint dry. He was almost proud of it each time he stepped back to see how far he’d come.

Eventually, the day release became a move to an open prison- he’d spend the evenings and the nights behind the walls of the detention centre, and then during the days, he would leave for work, and spend the whole day out in society. The number of locked doors and fences and searches in his life decreased sharply- nobody in the open prisons was inclined to abscond, they didn’t take huge measures to stop them from doing so, relying instead on trust, and generally the mood was a little less stifling.

Fennec found himself relying on his work as a form of escapism. His thoughts would wander, and they would never go to good places, so to fill his mind with painting or plastering or lining up the seams on wallpaper was almost blissful. During his breaks, sitting on benches in paint-stained overalls with his lunch spread out beside him, under the dappled light of the sun, he found himself identifying the birds around him to pass the time instead. 

He still couldn’t stand the pigeons. He never explained why to Alais, not in letters nor in conversation- he kept that period of his life to himself. The torture the enemy had inflicted on him, as well, he pushed deep down inside himself- resigning it to the back of his mind alongside everything else that haunted him a little- with the reasoning that his wife should not be exposed to such things. It was not, in his mind, her burden to share. He didn’t think it would be fair on her.

---

He was well into his fifties by the time he was released for good. Sitting in Alais’ car, all the belongings to his name in two plastic crates in the boot, he stared at himself in the rearview mirror with an expression of distaste. The wrinkles on his face showed that he rarely smiled- though the corners of his eyes would crease whenever he laughed or smiled, and Alais thought that was the most beautiful thing in the world. Fennec just saw the bright grey hairs starting to streak through the partings of his mousey-brown hair and nothing else.

Sabine was sitting in the back seat, on her phone. She waved to him as he’d walked from the gate of the prison to the car in the same way you’d wave to a distant friend across the room. He’d waved back, but then she hadn’t said a word since.

“Don’t be rude,” said Alais as she pulled onto the Autobahn, away from the town that Fennec hadn’t left for nine years. “Talk to your father.”

She looked up at him. “He’s not my father,” she said. “I don’t have a father.”

“It’s okay,” said Fennec. “I get travel sickness. I’d rather not try to hold a conversation now.” He smiled at her in the rearview mirror. His eyes stayed the same- a little forlorn, like a dog thrown out of the house for barking too much. She looked up at him, and studied the expression on his face.

“Then you’ll talk when we get home,” said Alais, glaring between the two of them in the mirror. There was no escaping her relentless stubbornness, even after all that had happened. The rest of the car ride was silent. Sabine texted someone throughout. Fennec just watched her in the rearview mirror.

---

Neunzing had barely changed. Still a sleepy little farm village. His house, however, had changed- it even smelt different. He stood in the hallway, staring at the coat hooks on the wall. Sabine walked right past him. Alais sent her back a few moments later to move Fennec from where he was standing, staring at every little thing he walked past, and sit him down in the armchair in the living room. She put two cups of tea on the table, and left him and Sabine to it.

“You killed someone?” she asked. The first thing she’d said to him, and it was that.

Fennec looked at her like she was from a different planet. “Yes,” he said. “How do you know that?”

Sabine rolled her eyes. “I looked you up on the internet,” she said.

Fennec found he had nothing more to say to her. She already knew and she’d already made up her mind- and she wasn’t happy about the man she rightfully considered a stranger now living with her mother.

---

Over the next few weeks, Fennec sat in the armchair in the corner of the room most of the day. He knew he should be looking for work but nothing he could read made sense to him. The letters didn’t make words. He was exhausted in a way beyond tiredness, so he just sat there, staring into space. Alais lost her temper with him- “You have had nine years to languish, I won’t let you carry on rotting away” - and then swiftly apologised to him. All the same, he got the message, got himself up, and set up his easel at the far end of the garden, looking out towards the fields. Try as he might, he couldn’t mix the right greens, and ended up weeping over the canvas for half an hour in frustration. By the time he was done crying, the sun had started to go down, and at last, he mixed the right green.

Something felt off. Fennec felt off. They hadn’t discharged him from prison with a prescription for the medication he was taking, but it seemed to him more than simple withdrawals. Like the house wasn’t real, the people around him weren’t real. All his life, the past ten years and then some, all he could think about was coming home, and now he was home- and it didn’t feel like home anymore. It felt like someone else’s house.

He didn’t finish the painting. Green after green went down onto the canvas and nothing looked right. In a moment of frustration, he broke it over his good knee, and tossed it into the hedge. Alais made him go and retrieve it and put it in the correct bin, which he did, a little embarrassed. Sabine stared at him out of the window the whole time. She texted her friend something as she did so. Fennec made eye contact with her from down in the garden, in his paint-covered blazer and overalls, his ragged straw hat, shielding his eyes from the setting sun- and wondered what the text had said. It bothered him so much that he couldn’t eat dinner. Alais told him that if he kept it up he was going to have to go and see a dentist, and Fennec just shrugged. His teeth didn’t hurt, but she didn’t believe him.

The weeks went by still, and he made himself useful around the houses in the village, being paid per-job from people who thought he had died years ago. The people who knew where he’d been generally wanted to invite him in for coffee and something to eat rather than let him work. They always asked the same questions that Fennec knew weren’t the ones they really wanted to ask. 

Alais took him to a dentist in Munich- a friend of hers that had agreed to take a look at his teeth on short notice, as long as Fennec was willing to have a student assist. He had agreed. The dentist put him in the chair, and Fennec had damn near vomited the moment he tipped it back- sheer terror hitting him like a brick- abruptly sat up and asked if they could give him a sedative. They did, and he managed to get through the rest of the consultation without much issue. They seemed to find cavity after cavity. He lost three teeth- adamantly refusing to have a root canal done- and they replaced them with replicas that looked not much different from the old ones. Most were repairable with a filling or treatable with fluoride paste.

Alais was puzzled when she came to pick him up and he handed her the relative’s form about the sedatives. “You were never afraid of dentists when you were younger,” she said.

“Yes, I was,” lied Fennec. She left the topic alone with a funny look.

---

Some time after the dentist, Fennec found himself markedly off-kilter. He always liked to say he knew when he was up, and he knew when he was down, but this time it was almost as if he was both- two polar opposites of his mood spectrum crammed into one body. That was the off feeling he had been feeling for a long while, and finally, it had him right in its grip. It was terrible. He felt terrible- as if he wanted to rip his own skin off, a feeling of a dark sort of electricity beneath his flesh- restless, agitated, anxious. His brain moved slowly and he was acutely and terribly aware of that fact.

It all came to a head on a particularly hot evening. He was painting- or at least trying to. None of his colours looked right, nothing looked right. Nothing felt right and nothing was right. He sat with it, looking at the painting until he couldn’t stand it any longer. He leapt up from his easel, shoved it over, and went upstairs to the bathroom. He forgot to lock the door in his haste. Part of him thought that the act of knocking over his easel was enough to make the feeling that consumed him stop, but it wasn’t. He wanted more. He wanted to see himself- metaphorically, or perhaps literally, he really did not care- dissected like a corpse on an autopsy table- bared to the world. Everyone needed to know what he was. Then, maybe the feeling would go. Maybe then he could think clearly.

He took off his clothes and stared at himself in the mirror for a long time. Naked, because he couldn’t see himself any other way- his clothes, he reasoned, just hid what he really was. The scars, the unkempt beard, nothing to hide behind, and Fennec realised just how old and tired he looked. He wanted to shave the beard as well, the final thing he had to hide behind, and let Alais see what he really was- what this body really was- so he grabbed the razor from the sink, wet his hands, and wet his beard.

Looking at himself in the mirror, he went to put the razor to his face, and was suddenly filled with an inexplicable hatred for himself. Nothing, in that moment, seemed like it was ever going to be okay again. He couldn’t feel anything, he thought. This body was just like wax, melting, dying, his hair was going grey and his eyesight was going and he felt as if he had wasted his entire life- and it was all his fault.

It was all his fault and he hated himself for that. But there was nothing to be done about it, so he put the razor to his face again- and found he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t shave his face. He didn’t want to expose what was beneath. He became acutely aware he could barely feel his own body- it wasn’t his, surely? It wasn’t his, it was something that had caught up with him, the aches and the pains and everything in-between weren’t part of him. They were part of his body that he couldn’t feel to know it was his.

He slapped himself in the face and felt nothing. He drove a thumb into the bony part of his bad knee and felt nothing. It wasn’t his body, he thought, growing ever-certain of the fact, and he panicked. They couldn’t put him back in another body. He didn’t even know where it was- but no, he couldn’t accept it- he had to feel something, he had to feel something, or it really wasn’t his body.

In desperation, he took the razor, and sliced himself across the arm with it. The pain made his mind a little less sluggish, so he did it again, and again, and then dropped the razor, staring at himself in the mirror again, turning his head this way and that. 

He was vaguely aware that it was a mistake, that he shouldn’t have done it, but the slight cold burn in his forearm was enough to make him think about things in a new way. His body betrayed him. It always had, and always would, and in that moment it made an awful sort of sense to him- he was being punished. As the blood ran down his arm and dripped on to the tiled floor, it made sense to him. It didn’t stop just because he was a free man. It didn’t stop the moment he was allowed to leave prison- it began.

He could feel. It was his body, and his body betrayed him.

He betrayed the people around him, and now his body would betray him, trapping him there for the rest of his life. Just a new prison. And, he resolved to himself, it wouldn’t make sense to kill himself now. Because this was what divine justice said had to happen. He had to live with himself. Not kill himself. He had to live with himself and the guilt and the shame, and his ageing body, his daughter who didn’t like him and his wife who pitied him, and the secrets, and the things he wished were secrets.

And then he was startled out of it by a scream. Alais. “Fuck, Anton,” she cried, startling at the sight of him standing there, naked save for his own blood, and she dropped the washing basket. “Fuck.”

The illusion broke. It was very much his body, and not for the first time, he had cut himself, he realised, staring down at his arm. “I’m sorry,” he said reflexively. 

Alais kicked into her businesslike manner within a few seconds. “Put pressure on it,” she said, and handed him the towel. “I thought we’d got over this.”

“I wasn’t trying to kill myself this time,” he said blankly. “I just…” He put his uninjured hand over his face, and tried to push the tears rolling down his cheeks back into his eyes with the side of his thumb. If anything that made it worse, so he put his head down towards his arm and wiped his eyes on the corner of the bloodied towel. “I wanted to see if I could still feel.”

“You don’t need to hurt yourself to work that out, Ant,” she breathed. She reached out a hand to touch him, and then her fingers met his back, and her fingers met the scars on his back, the scars she’d never even seen before, let alone touched. He’d always avoided getting changed in front of her but now this was unavoidable. “Did you-” she choked out.

“No,” he said quietly, still holding the towel to his arm. “No. Someone else did. A long time ago.”

“Who?” she asked. “These are burns, Anton, I need to know- who did this to you?”

He shook his head.

“Who?” she demanded, raising her voice a little.

 “I-I-I-” he stammered. “I didn’t- I didn’t want you to know, I didn’t think it was fair that you know. It’s not nice. It’s not-”

“None of this is fucking nice! You’ve cut your wrists in our fucking bathroom! Our child is in bed upstairs! None of this is nice!” she shouted. “It’s not a nice thing! I don’t care, I want you- not only the nice things, Anton, all of you! So fucking well tell me!”

Fennec visibly flinched away from her. In that moment, he swore he could see her heart break, but then it occurred to him just how stupid he was being. “When I was at war, when they… they captured me,” he said, and his voice trailed into nothingness. “They… they…” He swallowed sharply.

There was a pause, and then they both spoke at the same time.

“I’m sorry for shouting at you,” she said.

“They tortured me,” he said.

She put her hand over her mouth, and Fennec looked up to see that now they were both crying. “Alais, I’m sorry,” he said. 

He peeled the towel off his arm and realised the bleeding had stopped. She just looked at him as if he was something alien to her, running her fingertips over the scars on his back, and then drifting down to his arm, holding him by the wrist and holding it up to the arm. A few tendrils of blood beaded from the cuts and rolled onto the bathmat under his feet.

“I’m sorry,” he said again. 

She wiped her tears on the back of her hand. “Stop apologising for bleeding.” She finds the scars at the top of his forearm, spelling out letters- Verräter- traitor, carved into his arm. “This?” she asked. “Did you do this?” He shook his head. “How much more of it didn’t leave scars?” she asked. Fennec just laughed a brittle laugh, shaking his head. The tears stung at the back of his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he sniffled. “I’m really sorry.”

She squeezed his arm a little, trying to pull his attention back to her. “How much of this is there? How much did they do to you?”

Fennec looked at her with something unreadable in his eye. “How long do we… How long do we have?” He broke out into a pained laugh. Alais doesn’t laugh. 

He laid it out in almost an itemised list, from top to bottom. She just stood there, holding him by the arms, looking at his face as he talked, even as he couldn’t bear to look at hers. In the end he had been waiting to do this for so long that he knew almost exactly what to say. He faltered at a couple of points- describing things as plainly as he could bring himself to do, because anything else felt like deception. 

He started with after they shot him in the knee, how they’d pressed fingers into the wound, laughing at him as he writhed in agony. How the secret police they had over there- the Special Division had taken him into custody the moment he wasn’t on the brink of bleeding to death. It had started with fingers and ended with screws being hammered in and twisted out. 

He continued with how his comrades-in-arms had pinned him down and scalded him over his back and his neck with hot water mixed with sugar for his cowardice, how they’d carved what he was to them- a traitor- into his arm and rubbed salt into the wounds. How the British soldiers hadn’t cared. He faltered when it came to the sexual assaults, but couldn’t really bring himself not to talk about them- Alais knew him, every inch of him, and they’d had a child together- he couldn’t hide from her now. He could never hide from her. Each time it had ended the same way- whether face down or on his knees, he’d always done what they wanted him to. He never resisted beyond instinct, because he knew it would get him killed. And it was only ever about control, and if control was what they wanted, control was what he would give to them.

Fennec kept talking. Once the words started coming they wouldn’t stop. Still Alais’ hands stayed on his back, rubbing warm circles into his cold skin. He talks about how they put a gun to his head and asked him to beg for his life, and he did. He talks about things that should have been left in the history books being inflicted on him. How once they realised they were going to exchange him, to send him back to Germany, they turned to methods that left no mark- waterboarding, electroshock- and how he’d told them everything he knew, vomited, wet himself, and told them lies just to make it stop. He didn’t bother to try to make himself look good. There was no way he could. Alais let him talk. Her face turned into this mask of pity mixed with anger at the people behind it all as he did.

He talked about the white-tiled rooms, and he talked about the psychiatric hospital they’d put him in where nobody spoke German. He talked, at length, about losing his mind. He explained, at last, about the pigeons. And then he apologised again. He was crying still and he didn’t even realise until a stray tear rolled into his mouth and he tasted it.

Finally he ran out of things to say. It was as if he’d said everything that ever could, or would be said. Her hands wandered down again, almost as if she couldn’t believe that he was real, that any of it was real, until she was holding him around the waist with one hand, the other between his shoulder blades. “Thank you for being honest with me,” she said at last.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, eyes bright with tears. “I was wrong not to tell you.” Alais looked at him with a tearful smile. She rocked him a little, one way and then the other, the same action she used to soothe Sabine when she was a toddler.

“This is a new thing for me, Ant, and I’m not going to be the best at it,” she said to him, in the softest, most gentle voice she possibly could. “But whatever this is, whatever is going on up there-” she brushed his hair away from his face, cupping his cheek with a soft hand. “I’ll still be there for you, alright?”

Fennec nodded, chewing at his bottom lip, the tears welling up in his eyes yet again- a moment away from bawling like a child, leaning into the touch on his cheek. 

Alais rubbed his cheek with the side of her thumb, feeling his warm skin beneath her fingertips. “But you need help, Ant, more than I alone could ever give to you. I think it’s about time we called someone, don’t you?”

“I’m sorry,” he said, the tears rolling freely down his face. “I’m really sorry.”

She leaned in and kissed him on the forehead. “It’s not your fault, Ant,” she said softly. “It’s not your fault, and we’re going to get you some help, alright?” She knelt down to pick up the razor, glistening with his blood, and took hers off the sink as well. “I’m just outside,” she said. “I’m going to make some phone calls.” With a moment of hesitation, she unplugged the toothbrush charger from the wall and took that with her out of the room.

Fennec watched her go, feeling like he was made of parchment and not much else, hollow inside. His footprints were in his own blood on the floor- still naked and cold, holding his arm close to his chest, his leg screaming at him to sit down. He sat down. He sat on the edge of the bath and he wept.

[gloriousgwendolinechristie]

Gwendoline Christie, Joonas Suotamo, and Ming-Na Wen to Appear at Star Wars Celebration Europe 2023

Report to Captain Phasma’s division at once.

The actors behind Captain Phasma, Chewbacca, and Fennec Shand are coming to London to join an impressive guest list of Star Wars stars.

StarWars.com is thrilled to announce that Gwendoline Christie has joined the guest list for Star Wars Celebration Europe 2023 in London this April. The actor first played Captain Phasma, the chrome-armored commander of the First Order in Star Wars: The Force Awakens, and returned for Star Wars: The Last Jedi.

She’s not the only sequel trilogy celebrity headed to the show floor. Joonas Suotamo has been confirmed to attend. The actor played the role of Chewbacca in the most recent Skywalker saga films and Solo: A Star Wars Story, after learning at the knee of the master, the late performer Peter Mayhew. Suotamo most recently reunited with Solo writer Jon Kasdan to play The Scourge in the Willow series on Disney+.

And Ming-Na Wen, the actor who brought elite assassin Fennec Shand to life on The Mandalorian, The Book of Boba Fett, and Star Wars: The Bad Batch, is also slated to appear.

[twinsunstars]

Reflecting on Star Wars Celebration 2023

For 2023, Star Wars Celebration was held in London, England, part of Europe. Fans had a blast, whether they actually attended in person wearing cosplay or just regular clothes, or tuned into the live broadcasts on the Star Wars Youtube channel. Like last year in 2022, there were a lot of surprises and awesome guests, but 2023 had a lot of special moments and emotional responses. The hosts of each panel also need some appreciation, I loved the energy and relatable moods they brought to each day. In this post, I’ll recap some of the amazing highlights of each celebration day, and share my thoughts on the panels I attended while tuning into the lives at home. 

Starting off with Day 1, the excitement was at the top-level. Considering it was in London, the live started at 5 AM for me where I live. So I definitely did not get any sleep, but it was worth it. The Ahsoka series got the most recognition of the day with the teaser trailer dropping to all the fans. I woke up to the trailer being posted and immediately watched it, trying not to scream so loudly. Rebels fans were truly getting fed with the new live-action debuts of Hera, Sabine, Ezra, Thrawn, and Chopper. The Acolyte cast were given introductions, and I had no idea that a star from Squid Game (Lee Jung-jae) was going to be in it. I’m really excited to see more of this show. The Making of Andor was discussed with a few of the cast members and creators there, and Diego Luna really highlighted what Andor means to a personal level. Season 2 is in the making, and that will be something worth looking forward to. The next Star Wars films were also announced, and Dave Filoni’s directing one??? Let’s see what he has in store for us.

Day 2 included just as much fun as the first day had. There were more discussions on the Ahsoka characters, and Lars Mikkelsen IS PLAYING THRAWN?! Definitely a good live-action casting choice. Ming-Na Wen came to celebration to host the panel celebrating 40 years of Return of the Jedi, looking back at the characters and how that movie’s plot set up a lot of iconic memories. She also came to an interview to discuss her character, Fennec Shand, and how she is a “badass”. Andy Serkis came to the stage and certainly incited a powerful audience (”ONE WAY OUT!”). It’s unbelievable how it’s already been 15 years of The Clone Wars, with Matt Lanter, James Arnold Taylor, and Ashley Eckstein looking back at the legacy of all of it. Ian McDarmid served the iconic laughter of Palpatine, and Anthony Daniels arrived with his usual charm that makes C-3PO lovable, and got to meet one of his droid fans. Billy Dee William’s charm is irresistible, and we love to see Star Wars authors getting recognition.  

In Day 3, there was a lot more looking back to look forward to. Starting off with the panel celebrating a few of the villains of the Sequels-Phasma, Snoke, and Palpatine-it was interesting to hear their perspectives. Cameron Monaghan served his look on the stage while rocking a poncho, and we love to hear the discussions about ponchos. He even gave it to a cosplaying fan, which was so sweet. Discussing “Jedi Survivor”, the sequel to “Jedi: Fallen Order”, there’s a lot more action to look forward to in the next game. Vivien Lyra Blair is just too adorable, and we have to agree with Hayden Christhansen; “This is where the fun begins” is one of the best Anakin lines. Along with Ewan McGregor and a few other cast members and creators, the team looks back at the Obi-Wan Kenobi series, getting nostalgia between the relationship of Obi-Wan and Anakin. 

And finally, Day 4 was sad as it was to be the last day of celebration, but the energy was extra hyped this day. This day was filled with content of The Bad Batch, and we love to see everyone fangirling over Dee Bradley Baker performing the voices of a few clones. (Tech and Phee are canon now after they talked about it, you can’t change my mind.) Michelle Ang is so pure at heart, and we love to hear her takes on Omega and having her grow up a bit. The fact that Season 3 will be the last Bad Batch season is saddening, there’s still so much to discover. Ashley Eckstein is truly such a kind human being, and we love to see her giving the Ahsoka recognition that is truly deserved. A second season of Tales of the Jedi was announced, and we will be getting a Volume 2 of Star Wars: Visions, and I am in love with the animation. The fact that the studio who produced the film “Wolfwalkers” is getting to create a short in this makes me happy. Listen, Nubs, that little jedi from that upcoming Disney Junior show, Star Wars: Young Jedi Adventures, is so CUTE! The closing ceremony was filled with a lot of emotions, but we can’t wait until the next celebration to see everyone again. Star Wars Celebration is truly home.

My first celebration was back in 2022, and I had attended that one through the lives at home as well. Whenever I sit down to attend the live streams, I really feel like I’m there at celebration, and I have tons of fun every time. Let’s look forward to enjoying ourselves again in 2025 in Japan!

[writingwintermoon]

Fennec.

Fennec Shand is handsome, clever, and rich, and rules the town of Mos Espa alongside her best friend, the Daimyo Boba Fett. Since consolidating their control of the sector, there has been little to distress or vex them.

Fennec-Emma AU, featuring Boba/Fennec, Jo/Drash, Din/Cobb, some slight Fennec/Bo-Katan, and implied Bo/Koska but now that I have the Nitearmor bug that may be included too 🤭 this is just an outline but these are two of my favorite things, Star Wars and Jane Austen lol

I highly encourage anyone who has not yet seen Emma. (2020) starring Anya Taylor-Joy to witness its excellence.

- (This is all because I accidentally put “I’ll dance with you, if you’ll have me” in another fic lmao)

- Fennec as Emma

- Boba as Mr. Knightley

- (they’re kind of both Emma and both Mr. Knightley, and also both kind of Mr. Woodhouse) (Boba moreso though)

- The people of Mos Espa are the broad concept of Mr. Woodhouse? Somehow.

- The Majordomo as Bartholomew the long-suffering manservant?

- Din as Harriet (Because he is The New Girl, & kind of also Jane Fairfax, because he is also Mysterious and That Bitch)

- Cobb as Robert Martin (he already is kind of Boba’s tenant farmer)

- Taanti as Mrs. Martin Senior

- The Tuskens who helped with the Kryat dragon as the Martin sisters

- the Armorer would be Mrs. Goddard…

- Paz as one of the schoolgirls (lmao)

- Drash and Jo as Miss Taylor and “Ms.” Weston

- Boba gives Drash away at the wedding and is beside himself with joy

- though he does do a bit of "poor Miss Taylor"-ing about how Drash is moving to Freetown

- Din asks, “Who cried most?” (it was Taanti)

- (Din wasn't there bc he had to go get the Armorer and Paz) (and I guess Ragnar’s there too)

- Peli as Miss Bates

- (and R5 as Mrs. Bates)

- (I’m thinking like the 2020 version where Mrs. Bates doesn’t talk at all until the very end and then won’t shut up)

- The other gotras would be the Coles etc

- The Modifier as Dr. Perry

- DENGAR AND MANAROO AS JOHN AND ISABELLA

- We can probably throw Bossk in there for no good reason for the Christmas Life Day dinner scene

- Highbury is Tatooine broadly/Mos Espa specifically

- The Palace is Donwell Abbey ... and also Hartfield

- The Parish is like, the abstract concept of (Bo-Katan's version of) the Mandalorian Way

- Brighton (or is it Bath he goes to??) is Mandalore?

- London is Coruscant ofc

- The Churchills’ estates are the abstract concept of the Jedi order

- Ford’s would be Garsa’s sanctuary

- BO-KATAN WOULD BE MR. ELTON (broadly)

- The portrait would instead be Bo-Katan suggesting to Din (& maybe Boba’s there too) that they make Fennec a cuirasse & new helmet (not of beskar, but at least in the Mandalorian style)

- Carriage scene, “I was flirting with Din for political reasons, for the darksaber! I was trying to get you to like me to get close to Boba! I don’t care about any of you, I only care about Mandalore!”

- All her other Mando gang would be Mrs. Elton, being kind of annoying and disrespectful & weirdly familiar to Mr. Knightley but also the best/funniest part of the whole thing

- Luke would also be both Jane Fairfax and Frank Churchill… Because he is Also Mysterious and That Bitch

- All the secret Jane Fairfax shit is Luke keeping all the Jedi stuff/his Skywalker backstory kind of secret

- Leia and Han as Miss Campbell and Mr. Dixon!

- the seaside incident = the Sarlacc incident???

- (I mean Han has saved Luke’s ass so many times—“that’s two you owe me, junior”)

- Luke letting Grogu go back to Din would be the pianoforte…

- GROGU IS THE PIANOFORTE

- Everyone (at least Bo-Katan) assumes it’s some kind of rescue mission or ultimatum by Boba but no, Luke let Grogu choose

- Luke did Din a great service!! (rescuing Grogu!!) (LIKE FRANK & HARRIET AND THE TRAVELERS)

- this situation would be the Travelers Incident (=> The Pity Dance) = Hearing Grogu's Call (=> Letting Grogu Choose)

- And then Boba (Mr. Knightley) can get over his dislike of Luke (Frank Churchill) since he helped Din (& Grogu) (Harriet)!!!

- any flirting with Fennec would be all Luke "I'm pure sunshine, charming naturally" Skywalker

- we shall have our ball indeed...

- Mr. Knightley sending his carriage would be Boba going to personally pick up Din, Cobb, Drash, & Jo from Freetown for their little event...

- Still need to include the Mr. Knightley singing with Jane scene

- ....but would this be Luke or Din as Jane?? 😱 THIS WOULD BE DIN, THEY'D BE SINGING A MANDO SONG

- AND BO-KATAN WOULD BE LIKE 😡 that should be me...

- The Strawberry picking outing at Donwell Abbey would be some kind of Mandalorian holiday…

- Boba just hangs out with Din the whole time, ignoring Bo-Katan, who is trying to set Din up as a governess/journeyman for her kind of Mandalorian (maybe even to help take care of foundlings??) so she’s heated

- Luke arrives late and is like 🤷‍♀️ I’m not a Mando, guess I'll leave

- Fennec is like, I’m not either, but Boba invited you to show favor to Grogu & by extension Din

- (He wanted to sit down with Din & Bo-Katan & Boba and explain about Tarre Vizsla, how Grogu can walk the way of the Mandalore while still following Jedi teachings, but the vibes are atrocious)

- He says, when I am missed… tell the others

- Fennec is like, okay fine, leave then

- Luke is like [shocked Pikachu face]

- Box Hill as a pod race instead???

- Fennec says something [unintentionally] nasty to Peli about how junk can still win

- It’s only funny when Peli says that herself…

- Of course Din takes Peli's side, so Cobb does too

- Even the Mods are like, be careful what you call junk...

- Badly done, Fennec!

- she sulks in the tower...

- Boba cheers Peli up by lettering her work on his “antique” (he grits his teeth when he says it ... but for real that ship has been around for a while lol)

That’s all I have for now, but I’ve been stewing on this for like a year.

@daimyosprincess @pickleprickle I feel like we are feeling the same wavelength here!

[isobel-thorm]

Tagged by @fees-old-blog. Not sure if you meant to tag me, but that's my old URL, so maybe? This is still fun though, so I'll go with it.

Rules: answer 20 questions and tag 20 people you want to get to know better.

Name: Sarah

Zodiac sign: Pisces

Height: 5’7

Languages spoken: English, some very limited basic Italian

Nationality: As in location: American; Heritage: Irish/Polish

Favourite fruit: Grapes

Favourite scent: Coffee, Vanilla

Favourite colour: Peacock blue

Favourite animal: Wolf or fennec fox

Coffee, tea, or hot chocolate: Yes

Favourite fictional character: I want to say Mal Reynolds from Firefly/Serenity, but since I don't fuck with J*** W***** anymore, I'm gonna stick with Ben Wade from 3:10 to Yuma.

Dream trip: Switzerland or London.

When your blog was created: May 2011

Last movie you’ve seen: No Hard Feelings. That said, I'm about to look for a cheesy romcom or Christmas movie. Might rewatch Single All the Way

Songs you’ve had on repeat: Fast Car: Christian Kane, Herald of Darkness- Alan Wake 2 cast

Favourite candy: Cookie Dough Bites

Favourite holiday: Christmas

Tagging: Stuck with the "I have no idea who's active anymore/who will see this" bit. Tell y'all what, if you like this, you're tagged.

[rainytumble]

snitching on llamas and watching piccadillies

Was blessed with remembering another weird dream and I thought I'd share:

It all took place at a little zoo where I first went to the llama cage. Didn't question why they were in the type of cage they normally put smaller animals in (the type they put and owl in) - thinking about it, there only was this type of cage for every animal. So the llamas suddenly got free. As it turns out they used a pineapple to do so.

I was petting one of them while another one started freeing other animals. After petting a big cat (I think an unusually fluffy leopard) whose head was on my lap I started thinking that mayyyybe this could end up being dangerous for everyone at the zoo and that it might be a good idea to inform one of the zoo keepers. So I went and snitched on the llamas.

I should have known it was a dream when I along with other visitors escaped an even bigger cat by quickly climbing up some cages because climbing those seems impossible in hindsight. For some reason there wasn't any mass hysteria and most of the visitors didn't attempt to leave the zoo because apparently this was fine. Compare that to my nightmares where I freak the f*ck out about being late to class and you can tell a lot.

At some point I decided to help by picking up a little... well, something between a fennec and a hyena cub and bringing him to a zoo keeper. But the deadly animals were considered the priority, so I was left with the lil guy for the time being and carried him around for a while. There was some biting, but all in all he was surprisingly chill.

None of the animals spoke, but at one point he communicated to me "piccadilly" and pointed upwards with his paw. A train/monorail drove by on the rail above us. Ah yes, of course, that's what he'd call it. XD I loved that little guy.

The only time I ever heard/read that word was when it was about "Piccadilly Circus" in London and I don't think I've came across that word lately. So it's beyond me why my brain picked that.

So what I'm taking away from this is 1) unsurprisingly my mind is convinced I'd prioritize petting cats over saving lives and 2) I might start calling all forms of public transport piccadillies from this point on.

[annakompaniets]

Last Saturday me and Alla were selling Fennec London scarves and fine art prints, and a few cute vintage scarf clips and cufflinks to go with them at Cabbages & Frocks Marylebone High Street Market, opposite the Conran shop. Come and see us there again tomorrow! Watch video on my YouTube https://youtu.be/ZZhc2ZWgVdE I wore: A Fennec London scarf in my hair, 2 layers of M&S Heatgen, 2 layers of Uniqlo Heattech, 2 hand-knitted vintage jumpers and a vintage suit, JuJu wellies

[pandora-morningstar]

Ikemen vampire: Bram Stoker

You all knew it was coming, the man behind Dracula himself.

He is a pure blood vampire, probably the only one Comte, Leonardo and Vlad are uneasy around since he knows more about them then anyone due to his study into pure bloods.

He's got a nice little country estate in France as well as a mansion in London

Bram has a pet fennec fox he called Poppet, he trained her to be an attack fox. She will bite anyone ((mostly Vlad))

He based his novel Dracula off a trip he had with Vlad back in the day, he based Carfax Abby off his own London home. He also honoured Comte and Leonardo by creating Van Hellsing and Jonathan Harker ((guess whose who))

Arthur is his #1 fan boy since he tried to write a few vampire novels himself by using Dracula as inspiration and his limited knowledge of vampires

Bram's favourite food is a full English breakfast with earl grey tea.

He loves to tease the other pure bloods.

Comte, Leonardo and Vlad got the fright of their lives when Bram just straight up strolled into their lives again.

[animatronicabundance-archived]

15 Muse Associations

TAGGED BY: @spacexskunk​​

TAGGING:  @gcldchains​ , @feralreason​ , @kiddscove​ , @in-its-code​​ , @the-quiet-technician​​ , @donewithyourschmidt​​ , @hollowxport​​ , and @weird-fnafaus-rpblog​​

This is going under a read more cause I wanted to do the Save Them trio, so it’s a bit long

ANIMAL:  French lop rabbit

COLOR(S): Green, lilac, and red

MONTH:  May

SONG(S):  Christmas Kids, In All My Dreams I Drown, Two , Pretty Lavinia , Babooshka, Me And My Husband , Doctor

NUMBER: 13

DAY OR NIGHT: Sunset  

PLANT(s): Pink carnation and forget-me-nots

SMELL(S):  Fresh cookies , lavender, and strawberries

GEMSTONE: Peridot 

SEASON:  Spring

PLACE(S):  Home, the library, Fredbear’s , and the park

FOOD(S):  New York style pizza, bagels, chili , strawberries, peach cobbler,  and spaghetti with meatballs.

ASTROLOGICAL SIGN:   Aquarius

ELEMENT(S):  Earth , void

DRINK(S):  Black coffee , London Fog, apple cider, and rose wine.

ANIMAL:  Fennec Fox or bear

COLOR(S): Red, purple, and black

MONTH: October

SONG(S):  The Boy In The Bubble ,  Sippy Cup,  Still Feel , Sleepwalk , Home , Surface Pressure ,  Broken Crown , Teen Idle , I Am Not A Robot 

NUMBER:  8

DAY OR NIGHT:  Night

PLANT(s): Succulents , cosmos , and poppies

SMELL(S):  Popcorn, oil, and ash

GEMSTONE: Red Spinel

SEASON: Fall

PLACE(S):  Home, where his next job is, the mall, and his workshop.

FOOD(S):  Popcorn, New York style pizza, and anything spicy he loves 

ASTROLOGICAL SIGN: Aquarius

ELEMENT(S):  Fire

DRINK(S):  Coffee , Coke , and apple cider. 

ANIMAL:  Sun bear

COLOR(S): Orange, red, and green

MONTH: October

SONG(S):  Only Love Can Hurt Like This , Fourth Of July  , Atlantis 

NUMBER:  2

DAY OR NIGHT: Day  

PLANT(s): Succulents , cactuses , and roses

SMELL(S):  Oil, gingerbread , and leather

GEMSTONE: Amber

SEASON: Summer

PLACE(S):  Fredbear’s , home , the park, the pool , and the junkyard

FOOD(S):   Risotto , Lasagna ,  minestrone soup ,  tiramisu , and cannoli 

ASTROLOGICAL SIGN:  Leo

ELEMENT(S):  Fire 

DRINK(S):  Coffee with creamer and milk , cherry soda , pinot Grigio ,and hot chocolate.

[adaodinson]

Masterlist

Marvel

It’s nothing (oneshot)

Mornings don’t treat you very well, but what happens when everyone in the compound comes to the rescue when you stub your toe.

Magic cheesecake? (oneshot)

A delicious cheesecake appears and Tony and Pietro go insane trying to figure out who made it.

Bucky Barnes

It could be exciting (oneshot)

Bucky walks the same streets everyday, but the one time he has to change that, his entire life takes a turn.

Starsco (oneshot)

Bucky runs a company that you happen to start working at. Do you become indispensable for the company, for Bucky, or for either?

I’ve known since I met you (oneshot)

You need to find a new place to live in, but the best apartment you have found has a shared kitchen. Will the sweet and gorgeous man that happens to be your neighbor make it worth it?

Too spicy? (oneshot)

You miss your country, Mexico, so you decide to make a Mexican breakfast, will the guys handle the spiciness?

Wrong place, wrong time (ongoing)

All you had to do was get in, make the deal and get out. It would have been easy if three specific men hadn’t been making business with Selby at the same time.

Part 1

Part 2

Helmut Zemo

Too spicy? (oneshot)

You miss your country, Mexico, so you decide to make a Mexican breakfast, will the guys handle the spiciness?

Wrong place, wrong time (ongoing)

All you had to do was get in, make the deal and get out. It would have been easy if three specific men hadn’t been making business with Selby at the same time.

Part 1

Part 2

Sam Wilson

Good kind of weird (oneshot)

The day Steve and Sam meet each other for the first time they also happen to have a pretty weird encountering, one that they won’t forget.

Too spicy? (oneshot)

You miss your country, Mexico, so you decide to make a Mexican breakfast, will the guys handle the spiciness?

Wrong place, wrong time (ongoing)

All you had to do was get in, make the deal and get out. It would have been easy if three specific men hadn’t been making business with Selby at the same time.

Part 1

Part 2

Pietro Maximoff

It’s nothing (oneshot)

Mornings don’t treat you very well, but what happens when everyone in the compound comes to the rescue when you stub your toe.

Matt Murdock

Little bird (oneshot)

An interesting thing about you gets Matt´s attention enough to want to know more about you, but also to be nervous to actually do so.

Sandman

Morpheus

Faithfully (oneshot)

You are one of the missing Nightmares and Morpheus goes to the Waking World looking for you. He ends up quite surprised by what you have to say to him.

Narcos

Javier Peña

Bruises? (Oneshot)

There is a song that makes you think of Javi every time you hear it, will he like it?

Harry Potter

Sirius Black

Not enough (complete)

You are a new teacher at Hogwarts. You want to help the students but end up helping a certain black dog.

Part 1

Part 2

Måneskin

Ethan Torchio

We will rock you (oneshot)

You are a part of the sound crew during a Måneskin interview and being insanely nervous isn´t enough, you had to screw up too.

Bill and Ted

Ted

I didn’t call you babe, I was asking what it meant (oneshot)

When the guys go to London in the XV century, they find someone else who needs a hand.

Star Wars

Din Djarin

Chocolate (oneshot)

You are from Earth. You have no idea how you got to Mos Pelgo yet here you are.

Smile (oneshot)

You´re a singer at a bar in Tatooine. Boba and Fennec are regulars, but one day they arrive with a stranger that looks really sad. You decide to do something to cheer him up.

Armitage Hux

It’s all practical (oneshot)

While rescuing Chewie, your friends and you discover who the spy for the Resistance is, and you refuse to let more people die if you can help it.

Morning, chef (oneshot)

You are the head chef inside the Supremacy. Liking you and your dishes is one of the things most people on the base have in common, including a certain general.

Rush

Niki Lauda

Thank you (oneshot)

Niki notices his new neighbor the moment she moves in next to him, will you notice him?

Don’t you want me (oneshot)

You have a difficult relationship with your boss, will a song smooth the tension or create more?

We can be heroes

Marcus Moreno

Would she? (Completed)

A new neighbor moves across from the Moreno’s. What to do when Missy loves her and, conveniently, Marcus does too.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

The Alienist

John Moore

Different

Short Drabble of what I think would have happened if John had left Violet and fallen in love with a man after.

Game of Thrones

How it should have been (oneshot)

The ending I would have given to Arya, Sandor, Cersei, Jamie, Brianne, Gregor and Qyburn.

[writingwintermoon]

Mando s3 predictions

This is almost entirely a shitpost, but the idea came to me the other day, and won’t let itself go.

I’m probably not going to ever bother writing this, but it amuses me greatly to think of them this way.

Fennec Shand is handsome, clever, and rich, and rules the town of Mos Espa alongside her best friend, the Daimyo Boba Fett. Since consolidating their control of the sector, there has been little to distress or vex them.

- Fennec as Emma

- Boba as Mr. Knightley

- (they’re kind of both Emma and both Mr. Knightley, and also both kind of Mr. Woodhouse) (Boba moreso though)

- The people of Mos Espa are the broad concept of Mr. Woodhouse? Somehow.

- The Majordomo as Bartholomew the long-suffering manservant?

- Din as Harriet (Because he is The New Girl, & kind of also Jane Fairfax, because he is also Mysterious and That Bitch)

- Cobb as Robert Martin (he already is kind of Boba’s tenant farmer)

- Taanti as Mrs. Martin Senior

- The Tuskens who helped with the Kryat dragon as the Martin sisters

- the Armorer would be Mrs. Goddard… Paz as one of the schoolgirls (lmao)

- Drash and Jo as Miss Taylor and “Ms.” Weston

- Boba gives Drash away at the wedding and is beside himself with joy

-though he does do a bit of "poor Miss Taylor"-ing about how Drash is moving to Freetown

- Din asks, “Who cried most?” (it was Taanti) (Din wasn't there bc he had to go get the Armorer and Paz)

- Peli as Miss Bates (and R4 as Mrs. Bates) (I’m thinking like the 2020 version where Mrs. Bates doesn’t talk at all until the very end and then won’t shut up)

- The other gotras would be the Coles etc

- The Modifier as Dr. Perry

- DENGAR AND MANAROO AS JOHN AND ISABELLA

- We can probably throw Bossk in there for no good reason for the Christmas Life Day dinner scene

- Highbury is Tatooine broadly/Mos Espa specifically

- The Palace is Donwell Abbey ... and also Hartfield

- The Parish is like, the abstract concept of (Bo-Katan's version of) the Mandalorian Way

- Brighton (or is it Bath he goes to??) is Mandalore?

- London is Coruscant ofc

- The Churchills’ estates are the abstract concept of the Jedi order

- Ford’s would be Garsa’s sanctuary

- BO-KATAN WOULD BE MR. ELTON (broadly)

- The portrait would instead be Bo-Katan suggesting to Din (& maybe Boba’s there too) that they make Fennec a cuirasse & new helmet (not of beskar, but at least in the Mandalorian style)

- Carriage scene, “I was flirting with Din for political reasons, for the darksaber! I was trying to get you to like me to get close to Boba! I don’t care about any of you, I only care about Mandalore!”

- All her other Mando gang would be Mrs. Elton, being kind of annoying and disrespectful & weirdly familiar to Mr. Knightley but also the best/funniest part of the whole thing

- Luke would also be both Jane Fairfax and Frank Churchill… Because he is Also Mysterious and That Bitch

- All the secret Jane Fairfax shit is Luke keeping all the Jedi stuff/his Skywalker backstory kind of secret

- Leia and Han as Miss Campbell and Mr. Dixon!

- the seaside incident = the Sarlacc incident??? (I mean Han has saved Luke’s ass so many times—“that’s two you owe me, junior”)

- Luke letting Grogu go back to Din would be the pianoforte…GROGU IS THE PIANOFORTE

- Everyone (at least Bo-Katan) assumes it’s some kind of rescue mission or ultimatum by Boba but no, Luke let Grogu choose

- Luke did Din a great service!! (rescuing Grogu!!) (LIKE FRANK & HARRIET AND THE TRAVELERS)

- this situation would be the Travelers Incident (=> The Pity Dance) = Hearing Grogu's Call (=> Letting Grogu Choose)

- And then Boba (Mr. Knightley) can get over his dislike of Luke (Frank Churchill) since he helped Din (& Grogu) (Harriet)!!!

- any flirting with Fennec would be all Luke "I'm pure sunshine, charming naturally" Skywalker

- we shall have our ball indeed...

- Mr. Knightley sending his carriage would be Boba going to personally pick up Din, Cobb, Drash, & Jo from Freetown for their little event...

- Still need to include the Mr. Knightley singing with Jane scene....

- but would this be Luke or Din as Jane?? 😱 THIS WOULD BE DIN, THEY'D BE SINGING A MANDO SONG AND BO-KATAN WOULD BE LIKE 😡 that should be me... 

- The Strawberry picking outing at Donwell Abbey would be some kind of Mandalorian holiday… 

- Boba just hangs out with Din the whole time, 

- ignoring Bo-Katan, who is trying to set Din up as a governess her kind of Mandalorian (maybe even to help take care of foundlings??) so she’s heated

- Luke arrives late and is like 🤷‍♀️ I’m not a Mando, guess I'll leave

- Fennec is like, I’m not either, but Boba invited you to show favor to Grogu & by extension Din

- (He wanted to sit down with Din & Bo-Katan & Boba and explain about Tarre Vizsla, how Grogu can walk the way of the Mandalore while still following Jedi teachings, but the vibes are atrocious)

- He says, when I am missed… tell the othersFennec is like, okay fine, leave then

- Luke is like [shocked Pikachu face]

- Box Hill as a pod race instead???

- Fennec says something [unintentionally] nasty to Peli about how junk can still win

- It’s only funny when Peli says that herself…

- Of course Din takes Peli's side, so Cobb does too

- Even the Mods are like, be careful what you call junk...

- Badly done, Fennec!

- Boba cheers Peli up by lettering her work on his “antique” (he grits his teeth when he says it ... but for real that ship has been around for a while lol)

[jaws-and-canines]

Crutches

A Count The Days/Verschlimmbessern story. [Verschlimmbessern: making things worse whilst trying to make them better] This is my attempt at the ‘Crutches’ prompt from my BTHB card so is part of my ‘Bad Things Happen (to all kinds of people)’ series. Fennec is invited by his colleagues to attend a convention on Interventional Psychology, the field of Re-education. He doesn’t feel particularly welcome.

---

"I can't believe they made us bring him along," says Ida, waving back at Fennec. "It's a logistical nightmare and he's beyond slow." Kade shrugs. "It's good for him, I guess." Fennec wants to tell them he can hear them as he finally makes his way down the steps, but he doesn’t. He's a little appalled at how loud the crutches are to begin with, drawing everyone's eyes to him.  Fives follows behind him, in jeans and a T-shirt with his Department coat thrown over the top so he's still marked out as ab ATLAS-type. He ambles onto the platform and leans out over the yellow line to see if he can see the train. He's met with a chorus of "idiot" and other less polite variations on the theme and he turns back, frowning. "What?" he asks. "I'm not like you people. I can be trusted not to fall in front of a train."

Fennec would put his head in his hands if he wasn't using two crutches. He settles for leaning against the back wall of the platform, as far away from the others as he can get. He closes his eyes for a minute, trying to gather his strength.

"You alright, Anton? You look like you're about to pass out," asks Kade, turning back from the group of other technicians who are bickering with Fives.

"Headache," says Fennec apologetically. "This is all quite a lot for me."

The train comes howling in. Fennec flinches, almost, and Ida grabs Fives by the sleeve, lest he try to prove a point and get clipped by the train. Fennec makes his way onto the half-empty carriage and sits down on the first empty seat, his bad leg outstretched, crutches next to him. Kade sits opposite him, and then Captain Munroe gets into the carriage in his full Department blacks and stands directly between them. "Sorry I'm late," he says with a smile. "Oh, Captain, we didn't think you were coming," says Kade. "Didn't think the actual process of re-ed was your kinda thing."

"I got cover for my shift, so yes, I am. And I'm not here for the conference, don't get me wrong, I'm here so Hans here doesn't decide to make a run for it… or a very slow shamble for it." He gestures towards Fennec. Fennec does put his head in his hands then. "I am sorry," he says weakly. "Statistically," chimes in Fives, "Hate-related crimes against foreign nationals in London itself are up two hundred and fifty percent the past six months. He's more likely to get murdered when someone hears that accent than-" "Thank you, Fives," interrupts Kade. "Let's not."

Munroe just laughs. 

Fennec’s day doesn’t get better when they arrive at the Interventional Psychology Convention. His day rarely does get better. He’s stopped at the security desk, where the woman seems determined to pull him up on something.

“I see that you were a Foreign National.” She scrutinises his ID card. Fennec’s shoulders ache. He’s tense and he’s tired and he’s scared she’s going to pull him to one side and then Munroe will blame him for everything. “I was,” he says. “When did you naturalise?” “Two years ago.” She looks through his coat pockets. “Do you have your naturalisation papers?” “No, madam, not on me,” he says. She tuts and shakes her head. “I am sorry,” he says. “You can’t come in without them. Company policy.”

Fennec looks at her, almost baleful. “Can I see this policy?” he asks. “I can’t show you the policy. That’s policy too.” She hands him back his coat. “What do I do?” Fennec puts his coat back on, frowning. “Get a copy, Mr Fennec, I don’t know. That’s not my job. Could you get out of the way so I can do my job, please?” “Sorry,” he says, and heads out of the tiny foyer.

It’s raining outside, and he spots Kade and the others at the bottom of the steps outside the convention centre, with their passes clipped to their coats. 

He hates stairs on a good day, and this is not a good one. Clearly. He’s not in much pain, but his hands are starting to blister and his shoulders hurt. “Anton!” yells Munroe from behind him. Fennec decides he’s not going to hear. “Anton Fennec!” Munroe starts walking over. “Why are you going this way? Why are you outside? I didn’t say you could be out here.” Munroe loses his rag. As usual. Starts storming over. Fennec realises he’s made the wrong decision but keeps going because to turn back now would put him directly in front of Munroe and that’s never a good thing.

"Anton Ellmenreich von Fennec, would you listen to me!" snaps Munroe, grabbing for Fennec's sleeve as he tries to go down the steps. Fennec pauses at the top of the stairs. He doesn’t like it when people use his old name because it puts him more at risk of being assaulted for being a Foreign National than he already is. “I need my naturalisation papers,” he says delicately. “That’s your problem, isn’t it?” “I don’t have them because you took them from me!” says Fennec, exasperated. “I’ll tell them you’re a Department ward and they’ll let you through. This is your fault. You’ve made this difficult.” Munroe grabs Fennec by the collar. “I am trying to mind my own business,” says Fennec, somewhat savagely as Munroe twists his hand in his coat. “And this country makes it impossible. Trips me at every hurdle.” 

“Oh, I’ll trip you,” says Munroe, and shoves.

Fennec’s knee gives way. As it always does. He stumbles, his weight going backwards, throwing his hands up instinctively to try and catch himself, the crutches clattering down the steps. He hits the floor with a bang, tumbling down the steps to rest at the bottom, smacking his head on the way down. He lies there, on the dirty pavement, staring up at the blank sky for a few moments. He feels pathetic and useless and it’s all because of his stupid, stupid knee. Munroe picks him up, brushes him off, hands him back his crutches. “You’re not very steady on your feet, are you?” he asks.

Fennec clenches his jaw but says nothing, just follows Munroe back inside. The noise of his crutches hitting the floor each time he takes a step makes him want to cry. He hates people looking at him. He hates being percieved outside of his job. He just wants to go back to Northwall, behind the thick walls and heavy doors, and write up yesterday’s notes with a cup of tea and yesterday’s newspaper.

[fanthatracks]

The Book of Boba Fett: Ming-Na's Dream Role

Ming-Na Wen discusses her joy at returning to the role of Fennec Shand in The Book of Boba Fett.

LONDON, UK: Watch Ming-Na Wen as she reflects on her role of a lifetime in a new featurette, “Ming-Na’s Dream Role.” Robert Rodriguez and Temuera Morrison discuss working with Ming-Na and her invaluable influence as Fennec Shand in “The Book of Boba Fett,” streaming now exclusively on Disney+. A new episode will be available tomorrow. “The Book of Boba Fett,” a thrilling Star Wars adventure…