#mace: clearly this means my character is dead *again*

[cake-chad]

Derek: "You have just served your last sinnabon-"

Mace: *immediately starts miming dying, sliding out of his chair*

Derek: "That is very funny. But no, you're healthy, YOU'RE FINE!!!"

[griefabyss69]

Grief's Big LARP AU Post

Bonjoureee, here is my on-going list of installments for my LARP AU!

Titles are tumblr links and AO3 links are beside them. Start with the first fic! This is all one story.

» Last Man Standing - 15.6K - Rated: E - [ AO3 ] - CW: N/A Tags: Eddie Teaches Steve D&D, Blowjobs, LARPing, Sexual Roleplay, Tattoos, Fanart

I drew fanart for this one <3

Steve asks Eddie to teach him how to play D&D.

Eddie has no idea what’s in store for him as Steve throws him for a loop, making the game into something that changes Eddie on a molecular level, if his dick is to believed. Excerpt:

Steve puts up a good fight, and Eddie puts up a fight that would make a wet sock look heroic in comparison. Eddie's only got five HP left when he changes tactics, not ready for his character to be dead already.

"Blood running down from under his hat, his gasping to catch his breath, winded from this battle, my character holds up a hand. He implores of you, 'Please, have mercy and spare me from death, let me continue on my journey and I shall give you my mace.', what do you do?"

Steve blinks at him, surprise ebbing away as he mulls it over, pencil tapping against his chin.

Eddie gets up to refill his glass with water, taking the time to stretch a bit as he waits.

"I hold the tip of my sword at his throat, looking him over," Steve says, catching his attention. He gives Eddie a little smirk, one that's barely there but is somehow way sexier than any other expression he's made before. "And I tell him, 'I'll spare your life under one condition'."

» Interlude - 6K - Rated: E - [ AO3 ] - CW: Semi-public sex Tags: Pre-Relationship, Car Sex, Oral Sex, Humiliation, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Light Bondage, In Public

Eddie and Steve do it again, this time without any roleplaying, and in Steve's car instead.

Excerpt: "Do you want to pull over so I can blow you or should we wait until after you take me to the diner?" He asks, allowing himself to be presumptuous about a few things.

Steve's mouth opens and closes a few times before he looks around, using his turn signal even though the road is empty and has been empty for a while, pulling over to the side of the road.

"Guess that's your answer," he says, putting the car in park and shutting it off. "Crack your window."

They roll the windows down an inch and Eddie gets Steve's dick out before he's even unbuckled his seat belt, not caring that it hits him in the face when he does get it undone. Any injuries that occur here are a badge of honor and something to poke at while jerking off, no matter how stupid they are.

» Stargasm - 11K - Rated: E - [ AO3 ] - CW: None Tags: LARPing, Bondage, Nipple Play, Sexual Roleplay, Anal Fingering, Cum Slut Eddie Munson, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Humiliation

After they recover from their interesting night in Steve's car, Eddie and Steve get up to some more LARPing, this time with Steve as the Demon King who bests Sir Eddie the Banished Knight.

Eddie's still not sure where they stand in their relationship, but it feels good to be with him, and the time they spend after the hot sex is really nice.

Excerpt:

"Also," Steve's saying, pulling Eddie out of his thoughts about what Steve would look like with a real demon tail. "Since you liked it so much in the car, I was wondering that if I defeat you... could I tie you up?"

He winces a little, not like he's nervous, but more like he's expecting Eddie to be.

Eddie pulls the helmet off so Steve can absolutely hear him clearly, looking him in the eye.

"Only if you get really mean about it," he says, watching Steve's eyebrows raise.

» so take a bite of me, just once - 10.3K - Rated: E - [ AO3 ] - CW: None Tags: Biting, Sexual Roleplay, LARPing, Vampire Roleplay, Teeth, Blindfolds, Cum Play

(Tie in with the Paraphilia series) Odaxelagnia is a kink where individuals experience sexual arousal from biting or being bitten.

Excerpt:

The door creaks open slowly, the dim lighting from the hall spilling blue tinted into Eddie's lair, a gentle haze of back-light against the warm illumination of the most delicious human he's ever seen.

So obedient, carrying out everything he's asked of him around his Castle, even blindfolding himself just so he's stuck under Eddie's command around others who could break it.

"Give me your hands," he says, a soft order.

Steve lifts his arms, hands palm up for him. Openness and truth, manufactured, but still appreciated.

» Intermission - 7.7K - Rated: E - [ AO3 ] - CW: Chronic Illness Tags: Pining, Pre-Relationship, Friends With Benefits, Anal Fingering, Rimming, Oral Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Non sex tags are: Overstimulation, Chronic Illness, Grounding, Memory Issues, Cooking, Non-Sexual Intimacy

Maybe Eddie should've said no when Steve asked to come over, but he wasn't thinking too hard - his brain wasn't working too hard on anything but the urge to scream.

So when Steve does come over and sees that Eddie is having a really bad time, he takes care of him.

And when Eddie is feeling much better later, Steve takes care of him.

Excerpt:

Even the experience of Steve guiding him to his own bedroom and directing him to lay down on his bed as he starts stripping off layers – jacket and shoes and sweater and jeans and shirt – can't shake how Eddie's brain might be setting off someone's seismic activity detector somewhere in town.

It's a shame. Laying back on his bed, usually a hobby he's great at, ruined by the way he's almost shaking with how he just can't fucking relax, how he can feel every bump and lump and wrinkle in his clothes and the bedding and the mattress and his pillows. From the outside perspective it looks like the beginning to many of his wet dreams, but right now he's got Steve's beautiful, glorious body all half naked and the threat of a good time hanging in the air and he doesn't want to have sex with him.

» Swallow Me Leaden Sky - 40.7K - Rated: E - [ AO3 ] - CW: None Tags: Friends With Benefits, LARPing, Sexual Roleplay, Porn Watching, Bondage, Rope Bondage, Forniphilia, Human Furniture, Bookstores, Service Submission, Light flirting with OMC, Self-Discovery, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Rockstar & Bodyguard roleplay, Eddie Munson's Guitar, Nude Photos, Exhibitionism, Verbal Humiliation, Service Kink, Biting, Prank Calls, Sixty-Nining, slow burn but they're fucking the whole time, Two insatiable men get in a fight against time itself

Steve likes little trips into the city with Robin, he likes the deep driving well in his gut, and he likes laying on Eddie's bed, watching him get ready for the day.

He doesn't always have the words for any of it, and he takes a while to catch up to his own feelings, but he thinks he's starting to get there.

Excerpt:

Eddie slides out of his chair, unable to keep his energy contained to two square feet of space, walking around and really getting into the dramatic part of playing a guitar—he's gone from figuring out random melodies to playing songs he knows, and he looks good doing it. Steve's hopes are sky high, but he’s confident that if he just tries hard enough he can fulfill this nebulous craving of his.

[ivegotalongmemory]

time for my weekly twd thoughts: (11x13)!

-Marco?? The writers remembered he existed?? Wow! And he's playing wingman!

-lydia's growth as a character has quickly become one of my favourites lately

-stories about hershel's farm <3

-the car convo between maggie and Lydia was honestly so good because they're both right. like they could have life at the commonwealth and have more than just getting by but they could also carry on as they are because they're all more than capable and it's what they're used to. One thing I love about this show is that in most of the debates between characters, there's always more than 1 valid point

-lydia screeching even made ME shit myself

-i worried that this ep kinda seemed like it would be a filler side story buttt dead commonwealth soldiers? now I'm interested

-never thought I'd see gabe preaching again and also never thought I'd hear him say the words "clenched butt cheeks"

-this new guy has said one sentence and I already hate him, he's just giving me the vibes u know

-gabe's "yeah I'm not doing this" sums up everything I think

-this guy is gonna do something stupid/evil isn't he?

-guys there's a LITERAL CROSS painted on the building, if that's not a sign to fuck off idk what is

-i mean at least they have a time appropriate phone and not some stupid iphone13

-this poor jesss kid thought he was gonna have a nice day out and now he's in a chair hyperventilating

-this Ian guy is crazy but like...in a cautious way? Like "he clearly takes his responsibility for his people very seriously" kinda crazy

-oh and then he got shot so nvm

-I knew that Toby guy was gonna do something bad

-"I get up and I meditate" yeah and clearly it does not do him any good

-lance is such an interesting character because in one ep I'll be all "ohhh maybe hes not that bad, maybe he's just ambitious" and then in the next ep I'm more like "oh bad man"

-nooo don't cuff gabriel, let him hit the guy again

-let Aaron bash this man's head in with his mace arm please please please

-holy shit for a second I genuinely feared Aaron was gonna get shot

-why did it take me 40 minutes to realise the guy who showed up at hilltop at the start was the jesse kid who ran off

-negan?????

-oh wait he was the one who sent the guy?! hm

-ur ending the ep like that? Fuck u

-anyway I actually enjoyed this so much!

[noladyme]

La Cuervo - Chapter 5

She is used to the biker-life, having grown into a woman in the familiar embrace of SAMCRO. A bad decision and a gun-shot later, she gets whisked off to Santo Padre, and put under the protection of another club. What is supposed to be a short stint in the Mayan headquarters just north of the border to Mexico, turns into something more; when la quervo begins to develop feelings for el angel - and he seems to return them in kind...

TW: violence, blood, drug use, alcohol, smut, fluff, angst

In the spirit of "The Crown Princess of Charming", this is a story about O.C. Nina and Angel Reyes. It is obviously non-canon, as characters who have passed on on Mayans M.C. are present in it, and others have been excluded completely. Nina is written as a cis-female, but I have tried to keep her race and looks as ambigous as possible. Should you find any of this story offensive, please let me know.

5.

Nina looked down at the man on the ground. He had a broken nose, and blood was coming from his mouth. An angry gash on his forehead made Nina gasp, as she saw it bleeding down into his eyes.

Suddenly, the dam broke, and tears came streaming down her cheeks. Nina covered her face, and felt angry sobs go through her body. Everything came back to her. His grin as she’d told him to back off. How he’d laughed when she pulled out the gun. The sound of the gun going off, and the crack as the bullet penetrated his skull. And the blood… So much blood.

She felt Angel’s arms embracing her, and she almost collapsed against his body, as he held her tight; stroking her hair. “I got you. It’s over", he breathed into her hair. She was shaking, barely able to stand. “No… I can’t…”. Nina grabbed on to Angel’s cut, and began heaving for breath. Her lungs felt like they were collapsing. “What can I do?”, Angel said. “Bag… Inhaler”. EZ came running with the bag of clothes, and Angel dug out her inhaler. Nina took a hit, and felt air return to her lungs, before letting Angel take it from her to keep safe. Angel supported her weight over to the car. “Take her back to the yard. I’ll tail you”, Angel said to Letty. He turned to EZ. “You stay here with this shithead. Wait for Coco to decide what to do with him”. EZ nodded. Once deposited in the passenger-seat of the car, they began driving back to the clubhouse. Nina didn’t speak the whole way there.

---

She didn’t know how she’d ended up seated at a table in the clubhouse. She was pretty sure she’d walked from the car, but Angel might have half carried her. She felt like she’d left her own body completely. It wasn’t even until he put an ice-pack on her hand, that Nina realized it hurt. She hissed when the cool pack came in contact with her skin. “You really punched the shit out of that guy”, Letty said, from her seat at the other side of the table. Nina didn’t reply. “I’m sorry… I didn’t think he’d do something like that. I didn’t mean to put you in that…”. “It’s not your fault”, Nina said quietly. She raised her eyes to meet Letty’s. “Really”. Angel moved his chair closer to hers, and examined her other hand; concluding that it wouldn’t need ice as well. “You’ll be fine”, he said. His voice sounded unsure, though; but Nina knew his uncertainty in his own words, weren’t about her physical health.

The door to the clubhouse slammed open, and Coco stormed in with EZ and Gilly at his heels. “Estas bien?”, he asked Letty, who nodded. Coco lifted her chin, and looked at the darkening bruise on her jaw; his eyes on fire. “Should have fucking killed that guy”. “What did you do?”, Letty asked. EZ shook his head at her. “You don’t want to know”, Gilly said.

Nina was finally regaining a bit of control over her body, and got on her feet. Angel followed her, a hand ghosting her lower back, letting her know that he was ready to catch her if she fell. Coco took a few hesitant steps towards her, and met her eyes. There was a ferocious intensity in his gaze, and deep respect in his voice. “What you did for Leticia… That’s family-shit, ma’”, he said. “Thank you”. Nina nodded, and continued towards the door, Angel at her back. “I can walk myself”, she muttered. “Just let me take care of you”, he grunted, and opened the door for her.

As they moved towards the trailer, Bishop and Taza came riding on to the lot. Bishop’s face was locked in rage as he got off his bike, and stomped towards Nina and Angel. “I told you to…”, he began. “Not now, Bish”, Angel said. “Stay out of this, Reyes”, Bishop growled, and went to stand in front of her. “You really stirred the shit-pot, kid. Do you know…”. Angel got between them, and looked down at Bishop with hard eyes. “I’m not talking to you as my prez right now, man. I’m talking to you brother to brother. Back the fuck off”, he growled. Bishop looked like he’d been punched in the face, before regaining his composure. “Then, as your brother; go take care of your girl. Then, as your president; get your ass in templo. We need to talk”. He turned around, and moved towards the porch. “What’s going on?”, Angel called after him. “We got company coming”, Bishop replied, and went into the clubhouse with Taza.

Angel opened the trailer door for her, and Nina went to sit on the cot. “You weren’t kidding about your inhaler and your gun”, he said, trying to lighten the mood. Nina attempted a smile, but failed. Angel put the two items on the table, and sat down on the cot with her. His closeness was like being covered in a thick blanket of comfort; and when he put his arm around her shoulder, she let herself be enveloped in his warmth, in spite of the heat. She let out a stuttering sigh, and closed her eyes, before resting her head against his shoulder.

“What happened back there?”, Angel asked. Nina opened her eyes again, and pulled back a bit. “He attacked Letty. I wanted to help her”, she replied. “Yeah, but after… You had murder written all over your face”. He put a finger under her chin, to get her to look at him. “I can’t…”, she croaked. “What happened to you?”, Angel demanded; clearly trying to keep his voice calm. “Did someone…”. He halted, clenching his fist. “Who hurt you, Nina?”. The scene from a month before played out in her mind, and she shuddered. “No… no one. I can’t talk about it, Angel. I promised”. “I wanna help, but if you can’t trust me…”. His voice was full of hurt. Nina chewed her lips. “It’s really complicated. I can’t tell you everything”, she said. “Then tell me something”, Angel pleaded. She opened her mouth to speak, not even knowing what she was going to say. “I…”.

There was a hard knock on the door. “Pull out, Angel. Templo”, Taza called out. Angel groaned in frustration. “Fuck… yeah, I’m coming”, he said brusquely. He got up, and went over to open the door. Standing just outside, Taza looked at Nina. “You too, sweetheart”, he said, his face hard. Angel frowned in confusion, and Nina felt like a gallon of ice-water streamed through her veins. “What? Why?”, Angel said. “Like Bish said. Company coming in”, Taza said. “SAMCRO's coming?”, Nina said, unable to hide the relief in her voice. “No. Not them”. He might as well have punched her in the chest for all the air that went out of her. “Taz’, what’s…”, Angel began. “Table. Now”.

---

Nina was surprised her legs could even carry her back to the clubhouse. Once inside, Taza nodded for EZ to follow them to templo as well; the prospect looking as confused about the situation as his brother. Angel flanked Nina into the dimly lit room, where the rest of the club was gathered around a long, ornate table. Bishop was seated at the end of it, and Taza took his place next to his president. “Take a seat”, Bishop said, and gestured for a chair by the door; away from the table. She might have been let in the room, but the table was for patches; and not even EZ had a seat at it. He went to stand next to her, his arms crossed; while Angel took his designated seat with his brothers. He met Nina’s eyes for a second, before turning his attention to Bishop.

“What’s going on, jefe?”, Creeper asked. “Is this a party?”. He smirked, and glanced towards Nina. “Man, if you make another tequila-joke, you won’t make it to the cage, before I break your nose!”, Angel growled. Creep held up his hands in defense. “Just riling her up, brother. Is it true she’s got mace spraying from her nipples?”. Angel was about to throw himself across the table at Creeper – Coco and Gilly struggling to hold him back – when Bishop slammed his fist into the table. “Enough! Angel, sit down!”, he roared. “Creeper, this woman just beat the shit out of a body-builder today, and held him at gunpoint. Are you sure you want to keep talking?”. Creeper looked at Nina apologetically. “Sorry, Nina. I don’t always know what comes out of my mouth���, he said. Bishop nodded. “Good. Now, can we get this started?”. All the men at the table settled in, but it was clear Angel and Creep had a date in the cage at some point; and Nina couldn’t help but feel just a littleflattered.

Bishop took a deep breath, and nodded to himself for a moment, before looking over the faces in the room. “We have a predicament on our hands”, he said. “What’s a predick-ument?”, Gilly asked. “A problem, dumbass”, Riz said. “Creeper’s got a point, prez. What’s she doing in here?”. He nodded towards Nina. Turning the metal gavel around in his hands, Bishop began speaking again. “You all heard about the situation with Palo’s cousin”, he said. “Yeah. He got rolled by some puta, and ended up dead”, Gilly said. “Palo’s offered good money for info, is what I heard”, Creeper said. “Got El Padrino and all of Oakland searching high and low”. Bishop looked at Taza for a second; the VP giving him a meaningful look in return. It was time for the truth. “It wasn’t a hooker who killed Gael. Apparently, Palo’s cousin put his nasty hands on a woman he should never have touched. Not only was she not interested, she also happened to be SOA-family; and knew her way around a .38”, Bishop said. “When he wouldn’t take no for an answer, she shot him in the head.”

It took a moment for all the men at the table to realize what Bishop was in fact saying. Angel turned his head to look at Nina; his eyes wide, and the furrow between his brows deeper than ever. Nina swallowed hard, her throat feeling dryer than the desert she was sitting in the middle of. “Her?”, Riz said, and looked at Nina. “Yeah”, Bishop said. “We’re sitting on the number one name on Palo’s hitlist”. A murmur of curses went through the room. Angel’s eyes stayed on Nina, and he sat frozen in place. “Why are we just hearing this now?”, Hank asked. “Because we didn’t think it would be a problem, as long as Nina kept her head down, down here with us”, Bishop said. “They wouldn’t think to look so close to their own turf”, Angel said, his voice even, but strained, finally looking away from Nina, and at his president. “You should have still brought this to the table, not give us some bullshit story…”, Creeper said. “We didn’t want you struggling with your loyalties”, Taza said, trying to calm down the rising antagonism in the room. “We don’t owe the Vatos any loyalty”, Coco said. “They’re our neighbors”, Riz muttered. “The shit this could bring on our table…”. There was a moment of silence, and Nina shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “SAMCRO contacted Alvarez for help, and he turned to Bishop and me. At the same time, VM thinks Mayans are working with them on this”, Bishop said. “And we’re… not”, Creeper said. Nina was unsure whether he was asking, or stating a fact. “Well, that’s where our problem arises”, Bishop said. Nina tensed up, and noticed Angel doing the same. “What are you saying?”, he asked. “Up until now, Padrino has been feeding Palo with empty leads on possible suspects”, Bishop said. Nina felt her heart sink. “Has he been killing women he thought was me?”, she croaked; suddenly realizing she’d spoken out of turn, and bit her tongue. Bishop shook his head. “No. As far as I know, no leads has had any consequences yet…”, he said. “Reaper has been doing their part to throw VM of the track as well”. Bishop frowned deeply. “He’s been moving his search southwards, after all his leads have come up blank”, he said. “He suspects Alvarez is just milking him for money at this point”. “Palo trusts Mayans about as far as he can throw us”, Taza said.

“But Palo doesn’t know it was Nina. He thinks it was some hooker”, Angel said. “He knows that whoever it was uses an asthma inhaler. One was found near Gael’s body”, Bishop said. “Plenty of people use an inhaler”, EZ said; then realizing that he was speaking out of turn, he shut up immediately. “Yeah, but not all of them pulls guns on strangers in front of witnesses”, Bishop growled. “Someone reached out to Palo about what happened in that alley today. Which is another thing. I wanna know who the fuck in Santo Padre is feeding info on what’s going on in our territory, to Vatos Malditos!”. “I’ll ask around”, Riz said. Hank raised his hand in concurrence. “It’s just one witness though, with some half-ass story”, Gilly muttered. “At this point, it’s enough for Palo. Someone saw Nina pull that gun, and then use her inhaler. He’s gonna hunt that shit down”, Taza said.

Another murmur arose, and Bishop held up his hands to quit the room. “He’s on his way to Santo Padre, VM at his back”. Nina felt her ears pop, and went cold all over. Only EZ’s hand grabbing her shoulder kept her seated in her chair. “He’s going to ask us for help; and he’s going to offer money if we do, and potentially blood if we don’t”, Taza said. “You all know what will happen if he finds out we’ve been keeping Nina here with us”, Bishop added. “War”, Angel said. “Fuck”, Creeper said, drawing out the word. The rest of the Mayan’s seemed to agree on his proclamation.

There was a pregnant silence in the room. Nina’s eyes were stinging with unshed tears, and every instinct in her body told her to run as far away as she could, as fast as she could. She drew in a short breath, making Angel’s eyes return to her for a second. “So, this is where we need to make a decision”, Bishop said. “VM is right across the border from us. They’re offering money and possible good business; which comes hand in hand with permanent truce. On the other hand, we have history with SAMCRO, and Padrino is pushing for a continuation of that”. “He doesn’t call the shots here”, Creeper said. “No, and he’s leaving it up to us”, Taza said. “But his point still stands; he doesn’t like us burning bridges with a long-standing partner”. “We need to decide which side of the field we’re on”, Bishop said. “Easy”, Coco exclaimed. “Family”. He shot a look at Nina, and a smile ghosted his face. “You all know my opinion on VM and El Palo”, Taza said, his voice cold. “And we owe SOA”. “Yeah, fuck the Vatos”, Gilly said. “War, though… And money", Creeper said, before shooting Nina an apologetic look. “This is something we need to vote on”, Bishop proclaimed. “Prospect…”.

With a firm hand on her arm, EZ helped Nina up to stand, and led her out of the door. Nina shared a final look with Angel – whose face was unreadable – before the door closed.

---

Nina was seated by a table; flanked by Chucky, who didn’t know exactly what the commotion was about, but could tell from her expression that she wasn’t ok. He’d been trying to feed her peanuts and coke, thinking her blood sugar might be down because of the heat. EZ was busying himself by pacing the floor. “Sometimes I think about Charming, and the bad things that happened there”, Chucky said, when once again she declined his offer for nourishment. “But I always felt at home there, with the club. Places like this – surrounded by scary men in leather – it can be terrifying. But then I remember… These clubs are like families, and with family, comes loyalty. Once you’re a part of a family like that, you’re going to have people stand up for you; and take care of you“. “Chibs lost you in a game of poker, and made you move to the desert… Where’s the loyalty in that?”, Nina muttered. She’d always been miffed at the fact. “I was loyal enough to do as I was told”, Chucky said. “And I knew I would be ok here”. “How so?”. “Bishop… Taza… Loco Coco and Angel, and all the rest of them…”, he said. “They’re like Happy, and Chibs and Tig… And Jax. They take care of their own”. “I know that, Chucky; you know I do. SAMCRO is family to me. But the Mayans? What if I’m not…?”, Nina whispered. Chucky frowned. “You are… I can tell”, he said. She gave him a slight smile, and looked up at EZ, who’d halted in his tracks. He nodded shortly at her.

It felt like hours before the door to templo opened again. It wasn’t until dusk that all the charter members came out of the room, and Bishop walked straight over to her table; looking down at her where she was seated. “It was unanimous. We won’t hand you over to Palo. But you owe us”, he said. Nina swallowed to wet her throat. “What? I don’t have any money”. Angel sat down across the table from her, meeting her gaze for a moment. Something ghosted his face, possibly a smile; but Nina couldn’t define it. “We can’t burn Mayan business over someone who belongs to a different club. If you were an SOA member, we’d ask for a patch over. As it is, we’re going to do something different”. Bishop sat down on a chair next to Angel. Taza went to stand next to him. “Whatever you’ve been to SAMCRO up until now, you are to usfrom now on; for a year. Think of it as prospecting as a member of the Mayan family”. Chucky grinned and tapped the table; making strange sounds with his wooden fingers. “But… I’m not really anything to them. I just…”, Nina began. “Owe them loyalty and respect. That’s what we’re asking”, Taza said. Nina shook her head in confusion. “What’s in it for you? I don’t get it. You can’t weigh and measure loyalty and respect”. “You continue what you’ve been doing around the yard. Keep the clubhouse in shape”, Bishop said. “We use to have this nasty skank take care of that, but she quit coming around”, Taza said. Angel stifled a smile. Bishop folded his hands in front of him, and leaned forwards. “Look, bottom line is, we want to keep our promise to SAMCRO; but doing so, could burn us with Vatos Malditos. We need more than want to justify doing that”. “As Mayan family, you’re under our protection; officially. Giving you up would be a breach of our rules”, Angel said. The way he’d said family was almost lovingly.

“So, do we have a deal?”, Bishop asked. Nina let out a deep breath she hadn’t even known she’d been holding. “Yes… We have a deal”, she said. “But what happens now? Palo…”. “VM is riding in, in two days. We welcome them as we would any other club, we don’t have beef with”, Bishop said. “A big goddamn party”, Creeper grinned from his seat at the bar. “What do you want me to do?”, Nina said. “Where do I go, while they’re here?”. “You don’t go anywhere. Just blend into the crowd; be part of the family”, Bishop said. “You’re just a hangaround”.

The president got up to stand, and was about to walk away; when Nina got on her feet as well. “Bishop…?”, Nina said. He halted, and turned to face her. “I can’t turn my back on SAMCRO. They’re still my… They’re family”. Bishop nodded. “Yeah… I get that. And we’re not asking you to turn your back on them. It’s just that now, your ours as much as you are theirs, and as long as our relationship stays in good standing, you won’t have to struggle with your loyalties”. “Ok”, Nina croaked. “And you owe us a year behind that bar”, he added, and pointed at the counter behind her. “Yes, sir”, she said, a smile tugging at her lips. The Mayans all went about their business, and Chucky joyfully skipped away; leaving Nina behind with Angel. He got up to stand, and walked over to her; cupping her face with his hands. “You’re going to be ok, querida”, he said. “We got you”. There was such earnestness in his eyes, it was almost impossible to argue. “Ok… yeah”, she said.

With the adrenaline leaving her body, Nina was beginning to feel exhaustion take her over. “I am… so fucking tired”, she said. Angel put his arm around her shoulders. “Come on”, he said. “Where are we going?”, she asked. “My place”, Angel said. The prospect of what that statement meant was intriguing, but Nina didn’t exactly feel up for playing the sex-kitten at the moment. “Angel, I can’t… I’m practically sleeping standing up”, she said. “Yeah, I know”, he replied, and continued leading her towards the door. “Just think you’d be more comfortable in a real bed, instead of that fucking trailer”. He looked down at her, and gave her a wry smile. “Look, if it makes you more comfortable, I’ll sleep on the couch”. “You’re such a gentleman”, Nina chuckled. Angel shrugged. “You got me all wrong. I’m very respectful to women”, he said. “Besides, you can give me head in the morning”.

Nina was still laughing when they made it out to Angel’s bike, after grabbing her helmet. Coco was leaning against his own ride, parked just next to it. “We’re heading out”, Angel said, and pulled his friend in for a half hug. Coco looked at Nina apologetically. “Niña, thanks again for what you did for Letty… And I’m sorry about that thing last night… I’m just used to EZ being in there, I didn’t think to knock…”. Nina sighed, and shook her head. “Coco, you saw my naked ass. Get over it”, she said, and got on behind Angel. “Just remember it’s my naked ass now, so don’t do it again, carnal”, Angel declared. Coco grinned at them, and they drove off into the night.

---

Nina woke to birds singing. Something – someone – warm was pressed against her back; one arm around her, and holding her close, the other hand gently stroking her arm. She turned around, and looked in to Angel’s eyes. “Hey”, he said. “Good morning”, Nina smiled. Angel’s grasp around her tightened, and he pulled her close for a gentle kiss. She smiled against his lips, and settled against his chest; letting her fingers dance over the lines of his tattoos there. “How are you feeling?”, he asked. “Very respected”, she said, looking down at herself. She was still wearing EZ’s t-shirt and her panties. Angel hadn’t once tried to get her naked the night before; simply let her curl up in his arms and fall asleep – which she’d done the moment she closed her eyes. “We can change that, if you want to”, he said, raised a brow suggestively; and moved a hand to stroke the bare skin of her thigh. She giggled when he moved his hand upwards, and tickled the side of her waist.

“Thanks for letting me sleep in the bed”, he said. His hand settled on her arm again. “Shipping you off to the couch didn’t seem like the best way to start… whatever it is we’ve started”, she replied. “You got a point…”. His expression darkened. “Neither is lying about shit like you have”. Nina swallowed thicky, and nodded. “I know. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you… I just promised Chibs and Bishop…”, she said. “I get it”, Angel said. “But I wasn’t bullshitting you when I said I want you to trust me. I know we don’t have history that long, but I care about you, querida. I wanna see if we can make this work”. Nina felt her cheeks burning suddenly, and hid her face against his chest. “Me too… I do”, she said. Angel put his index finger under her chin, and lifted her face for him to look at her. “Yeah?”, he said. “Then talk to me. Sometimes, it’s like your head goes somewhere real dark, and I can’t pull you out of it if I don’t know what’s going on with you”. “You know what happened”, Nina muttered. She pulled out of his grasp, and sat up; leaning against the headboard. “Yeah, the outlines. But something messed you up that day…”. He sat up next to her.

Nina sighed deeply. “This shit in my head… It’s too much for me to let someone else have to deal with as well”, she said. Angel scoffed, and chuckled a little. “You’re trying to protect me? Ma’, the things that live up here…”. He pointed at his head. “Not exactly Disneyland. The shit I’ve seen… What I’ve done…”. He let out a gasping sigh, and shook his head. “How do you deal with it?”, Nina asked. Angel shrugged. “I drink… A lot”, he said. They both laughed for a moment, before he continued. “I talk. To my brother; the club”. Nina looked at him in disbelief. “It’s true. Sometimes you got to let that shit out”. “I don’t know where to start”, she replied. “How about with your brother?”, Angel said.

---

[gffa]

YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND HOW INCREDIBLY GOOD THIS COMIC IS UNTIL YOU REREAD IT FOR LIKE THE THIRD TIME AND ALL AT ONCE AND THINK ABOUT WHERE ALL THE CHARACTERS ARE COMING FROM AND WHAT THE HEART OF THE JEDI’S ISSUES ARE AND OH MY GOD THEN IT HITS LIKE A FREIGHT TRAIN. Okay, maybe that’s just me, but I reread this coming in one sitting again and it just smacked right into me how incredibly spot on this comic is about the main issue and what it’s doing to Anakin.  The story is that there’s a war that’s been raging for centuries on a planet that has torn it apart, the Open and the Closed all want each other dead, no one even really knows who started it or why they’re fighting, only that nothing matters more than winning this war just for the sake of winning the war.  There’s a Scavenger who is dropping kites in from the sky, pieces of salvaged art and culture, so that it might spark a memory of how they used to be more than this, but ultimately the Scavenger wants to furiously kill all the older members (and maybe even the Jedi sent to help them because he didn’t side with her and kill all the older Closed and Open) and “start over” with the younger ones, who say, wtf, no, whatever else is going on, this is our fight too.  These are our people! Interspersed with this is a story about Palpatine strong-arming the Jedi into letting him spend an afternoon with Anakin to thank him for his help with Naboo, to help mentor him while Anakin’s rage is having difficulty getting it under control.  Palpatine takes him to the Underworld, where Senators are gambling away and Palpatine spins a story about how they’re corrupt, if we could just make them slip up a little more, we could go after them, because the system is hampering us.  Anakin nudges the dice (which is what Palpatine wanted him to do), then the Senator loses his game, Palpatine takes Anakin back and says, oh, if only I could do more.  The Jedi can’t just wipe him out, even knowing he’s corrupt, and my hands are tied, too.  Oh, if only there was some other path outside of the system.  By the way, have you ever considered leaving the Jedi and coming to work for me? Anakin is considering leaving the Jedi, he fully intends to and has made those intentions to Obi-Wan known, who says he’ll respect it, if that’s what Anakin truly wants, but he believes Anakin is better off with them.  In the end, Obi-Wan saves the day through calling in the Jedi, by saying there was a source of Tibanna gas on the planet, who cares if that’s actually true, the point was that he wasn’t on his own, that he was working to use and make better the system that he was working with, because they’d have died if they were on their own.  Being part of something bigger is what saved them, what allowed them to give this planet any kind of chance at all. THAT IS EXACTLY AT THE HEART OF EVERYTHING THAT’S GOING ON WITH ANAKIN AND THE JEDI.  Everything in this issue is designed to be an echo of what Anakin is going through, right down to how he thinks the Open vs the Closed are like the Jedi fighting the Sith, which is what Palpatine will also tell him one day in the future, that they’re both “evil” from a different point of view, that both want power, and it completely sidesteps that the Jedi and the Sith are not mirror images of each other (no matter how much marketing makes it seem that way sometimes), that the Jedi do not want to win a war just for the sake of winning a war, and it’s not about fighting the Sith because they’re Sith, but because they go around murdering people and oppressing entire planets, that you can’t say one side is “just as bad” as the other when one side is going around murdering entire peoples and planets on purpose, you can’t say it about the Rebellion or the Resistance or the Republic, because there are legitimate reasons to fight and real people being fought to protect.  But it’s sure going to be a handy excuse for Anakin, who is going to strip context out of everything, when Palpatine is dangling the possibility of saving Padme in front of him, that Anakin doesn’t necessarily want to think that way, but if there’s wiggle room to justify what he really wants (saving Padme), then he’ll jump on it. But at the heart of this moment, the question is:  Do you remain as part of the system that is deeply flawed because it’s the only way you can see to make any kind of actual betterment for people?  Or do you leave the system all together, doing whatever you want, where you can act more directly against things that are wrong, but you have no weight behind you other than your own? Palpatine is planting the seeds in Anakin for the latter, that going outside of the system seems like an appealing idea for someone who feels he’s not doing enough, that the Jedi won’t just go in and clean up the mess.  And Palpatine makes it seem appealing because he’s deliberately side-stepping the consequences that would happen if the Jedi did that, that we see incredibly clearly in books like Master and Apprentice or Queen’s Shadow that these methods would not work.  Padme goes around the Senate in TPM and pays for it for years, in her inability to actually get anything real done.  Qui-Gon is only able to help the people on Pijal because he’s part of the Republic, if he’d left it, the slaves would have been absolutely fucked and Czerka would have gotten away with it.  He understands that, if they just take out one Hutt, in a few months, a new one will take their place and everything will be back to where they started. Obi-Wan’s point is that the only chance they have--deeply flawed and imperfect as it is (he says it directly when Anakin says “this entire world is just gone because that’s the system?”, “I don’t like it either.  But, yes.  The system is... not perfect.”  “Then the system should change.”  “Perhaps someday it will, Anakin.” THIS IS IMPORTANT FOR THE RESOLUTION OF THE STORY.)--matches up with exactly what Obi-Wan has always believed, that you work from within the system to change it, to make it better, because that’s the only thing that actually seems to work beyond just a few months at most. And it’s precisely what happens:

The Jedi could go storming onto that planet and separate everyone, but as soon as they’re gone, the fighting will resume.  They’re only 10,000 in a galaxy of quadrillions and they have other people who need their help, too.  The only way to get anywhere is to be part of the Republic, to have that weight behind them, to be allowed to negotiate in the first place (if you’re not part of the Republic, then whatever treaty you negotiate doesn’t mean anything because no one’s going to honor it, the Republic isn’t going to honor something they never agreed to, never gave anyone the authority to offer on their behalf, NOR SHOULD THEY, otherwise Cad Bane can just go in and make a fucking awful treaty and have that be honored, too), to use the system as best you can to make changes for the better, which ultimately Anakin agrees with, hence deciding to stay with the Jedi. But the seeds have still been planted and they’re definitely going to grow.  Anakin’s desire to just go where he wants and do what he wants is going to be constantly at war with his desire to stay with the Jedi (with Obi-Wan) and his understanding that Obi-Wan has a point--as powerful as Anakin is, he’s not an entire system of government, that being part of something else makes him stronger, allows him a reach and an authority he would not have on his own.  It’s not until he thinks he’s strong enough to be that entire government (and he’s deep in the grips of the dark side and his own fear at what he’s done to save Padme’s life) that he’s willing to truly step away from the Jedi.  It’s not until Palpatine has engineered an entire war to completely overwhelm the Jedi’s attempts to change things (and there’s a very strong recurring theme in canon about how the Jedi keep trying to nudge things towards the better, keep trying to appeal for better decisions, and are consistently turned down--hell, that happens in this comic, when Mace tries to say no to Palpatine, who then strongarms him into being forced to agree) so that they’re too busy putting out tire fires and being in triage mode to actually make enough change anymore, especially when they have so little real authority themselves, as compared to the Senate and the Chancellor, that Anakin will be willing to step away. What Palpatine does here is masterful, he lets Anakin think that doing something illegal and outside the system (ie, a small taste of just doing whatever it is you want to do, when you want someone taken out) will lead to clearing away some of the corruption in the system, instead of addressing the far more complicated questions of how easy that kind of power is to abuse and why it’s actually a really awful idea to go down that road, even if you think you’re doing it with good intentions.  The system should change, pretty much every single person is onboard with that.  (Except Palpatine and the other corrupt Senators who benefit from it.)  That’s not the argument.  The argument is about how that should change--radical action or steady work from within and what each of those entails and when you’re stepping over a line that you’ll pay for (which isn’t about yourself, but about the good you were doing, the people you can help, if you’re allowed to help them) and how Palpatine just threw a giant ball of mud into the pond that is Anakin’s understanding of all of this, because he needs those waters muddy to turn Anakin towards him.  To take all those good intentions and all that power Anakin has and continue to use it for his own ends, rather than Anakin actually truly helping anyone on a long-term basis. ALL WRAPPED UP IN A COMIC THAT ALSO HAS THE MOST GORGEOUS ARTWORK AND AN EXCITING ACTION STORY AND SERIOUSLY LOOK AT THIS COVER:

I went into this thinking, okay, I’m going to scream about Obi-Wan being amazing and Anakin’s star-struck face any time Obi-Wan does something and yell “I FEEL YOU, ANAKIN” and how Obi-Wan was planning to leave the Jedi Order with Anakin if that’s what he decided and just have fun. Instead, I got a comic that just fucking nailed everything about one of the central conflicts between Anakin and the Jedi in a way that wasn’t really even that apparent until I actually started thinking about it (and have been yelling about it a lot recently, as my understanding of the GFFA evolves) and how there’s legitimate frustration and grievances there, but Palpatine strips out context and twists everything around to get his own desired result and it seems perfectly reasonable until you stop to think about it and how he played Anakin perfectly.  That it showcases how there aren’t any easy answers to this, only people trying to do their best within deeply flawed circumstances. THIS COMIC WAS SO FUCKING GOOD.

[jedi-order-apologist]

Hello there! Could you maybe put together small SW novels recommendation list? You reference books often and I assume you can suggest a few good ones that shed light/give more insight into the Jedi culture. Thank you for your blog and have a good day 💗

Thank you! I hope you have a good day too.

I actually haven’t read that many Star Wars books, all things considered - there are a lot, and I’ve barely scratched the surface of the prequel era stuff, let alone the rest of the franchise. I only recently started getting into the books, and there’s probably a lot more really good ones out there that I just haven’t had the chance to get to yet.

What I could do is go through what I have read and give my opinions on those. So far, in no particular order, I’ve read:

- The novelizations for the prequels and some of the original novelizations for the OT. More on my thoughts on those here (and specifically for the ROTS novelization here), but in summary: TPM novelization is a bit weak, AOTC novelization is decent and really helped sell the romance to me in a way the film fell flat for me, ROTS novelization is nothing short of phenomenal, ROTJ novelization is also pretty good, I don’t remember the ESB novelization enough to say anything on it, and I never read the ANH (or technically just Star Wars) novelization. I’d say they’re worth checking out at least once.

- Shatterpoint. I really like this one, it deals a lot with Mace struggling with the dark side, and it captures the idea of falling to the dark side as something rooted in defeatism, which really resonates with my interpretation. There’s quite a bit of discussion of Jedi philosophy and why they do and believe the things they do (or at least how Mace Windu sees it) - I’ve cited it before in my meta because I think it lays out pretty well why they resist the dark side. It also deals a lot with the costs of war - especially psychologically. There’s also a decent element of Jedi as family through the father-daughter relationship of Mace and Depa. On top of all of that, it’s very well written (same author as the ROTS novelization). I strongly recommend this one, though be warned that it is a very heavy, brutal book - oh, it’s not completely bleak, and it has it’s moments of humor, but it is not a happy story. It ends in victory, both in the immediate situation, and with Mace coming to terms with some of what he’d been struggling with, but I wouldn’t call it a happy ending, more that…well, as Mace says, he’s the last one standing.

- Yoda: Dark Rendezvous. I read this one most recently, and I made a long post on why I absolutely loved it. It’s not perfect but I think it’s the best portrayal of the Jedi in the books that I’ve come across so far - this book really goes hard on the “Jedi as family” idea, which I love, and there are really good conversations on (and inspiring examples of resisting) the dark side, and working through but not giving into grief. Everyone should read this book, it shows the Jedi as an inspiring people with so much tenacity and compassion, doing their best. And it eviscerates every bit of nonsense about the Jedi (and especially Yoda) being “emotionless” or “loveless”- it’s full of amazing passages that are absolutely perfect responses to these notions, direct refutations of them even (as well as refutations about the idea of the dark side having any kind of merit at all) because they get slung around in the story by a lot of the characters. If I could only pick one Star Wars book to suggest someone read, it would be this one, absolutely.

- Kenobi. Do you like Westerns and a sad Obi-Wan with a chronic hero syndrome that doesn’t help him with the whole ‘staying under the radar’ thing? If yes, you will probably like this book. It doesn’t really get much into Jedi culture, since…well, they’re dead, and most of the book is written from an outside perspective, not Obi-Wan’s. I think that was a good choice, because while he’s understandably going to be very sad during this time (it takes place during his very early days on Tatooine), constant exposure to that, in my opinion, would overdo it and wear out the audience. So the outside perspective of how sad and weird he is, where the characters don’t understand the context behind his behavior, but the audience does, works really well. I have some issues with it - for instance, while it’s kind of hilarious how much everyone wants to jump his bones in this book, I do wish that they’d kept the chemistry between Obi-Wan and Annileen strictly platonic (and the language around romance in this book rubs me the wrong way). And how people find out his last name is a bit contrived. But it’s a decent read that I’d recommend.

- Jedi Apprentice (series). I’d recommend this with the caveat that you have to go into it keeping in mind that it’s written for younger readers. Which absolutely does NOT mean it’s all fluff and sunshine and rainbows, very far from it (I call this series “Obi-Wan Kenobi’s Collection of Childhood Trauma” for some very good reasons, and the fact that he tries to sacrifice himself to suicide-bomb a door open with the slave collar wrapped around his neck before he even gets taken on as a padawan is just one of them), but there’s a lot of stuff that…doesn’t feel like it was explored fully to an adult reader’s satisfaction. It has a lot of the usual kind of fridge logic that often comes into play with kids’ media, and while it was written to be favorable towards the Jedi, that fridge stuff gets taken by fandom as reasons to criticize the Jedi quite often. More on that here.

- Cloak of Deception. This one’s…okay? It does spend quite a bit of time with the Jedi, but it feels pretty surface level. Luceno’s strength is in the fantasy space politics; for whatever reason his character interactions always fall flat for me, though I’m not sure if I can articulate why they’re so unsatisfying to me outside of a handful of good moments. But if you’re looking for a look into the politics leading up to TPM (or at least, Legends take on it), this is (one of) the books to look at. I say one of because I actually read Darth Plagueis first, and there is a bit of overlap.

- The Approaching Storm. This is the lead-in book to AOTC. It does a decent job with a look at the Jedi, I think, with a few snags (Barriss straight-up heals brain damage/mental illness to the point of complete personality changes, which seems way outside Jedi abilities to me, and there’s a bit of “maybe we shouldn’t take people from their families” angle instead of the Jedi as family angle). Also for some reason it refers to Barriss and Luminara as humans. And while the book tells us a lot about how important it is that the Jedi negotiate this conflict, most of their actual obstacles are getting places, with the negotiation itself getting glossed over. But it was a decent read, I think.

- Labyrinth of Evil. This is another Luceno book, this time for leading up to ROTS. The character interactions worked a little better here - or at least they had more of their moments - Anakin basically going “Marriage what marriage I don’t see a marriage” in front of Obi-Wan was pretty damn funny…and everyone knows the “infinite sadness” line that follows off of that. I’ll be curious as to what the current continuity gives us for what set off the invasion of Coruscant, because this (as part of Legends) gave us a pretty good reason for it. I’d recommend it, again, for the examination of the political situation, and there’s some decent action in here too. There’s a few insights into the Jedi but it’s hit or miss whether I agree with them, and they’re not the focus.

- Darth Plagueis. This one’s probably the best of Luceno’s books (that I’ve read), but it’s not Jedi-friendly. Most of that’s because, well…it’s from the Sith’s perspective, so they’re not going to be very pro-Jedi. I’m mostly okay with that because a lot of their criticism of the Jedi is very clearly coming from an obviously bad faith position (”the Jedi let the Republic decay” the Sith say as they devour a man’s heart and talk about how the Sith need to make all the problems of the Republic worse), although there’s one scene at the end that I really don’t like because it appears to really claim that the Jedi would’ve told Anakin to never talk about his mother, which doesn’t match up with, well, AOTC, for one thing, or just my impression of them in general. But what this book does do well is a look at how the Sith influenced the political situation, and a lot of midichlorian lore (seriously, this book feels like a middle finger to prequel hate - “oh you thought the fantasy space politics were boring? You thought midichlorians were stupid? Here’s why you’re wrong”). Luceno’s way of doing character interactions actually serves this book really well, because the Sith are able to be written as the focus characters without making them sympathetic in the least. If you’re looking to get invested in characters, probably not the book for you, but if you’re looking for fantasy space politics, it’s pretty good.

- Rogue Planet. This one has a good interpretation of the Jedi, I think, though you do have to contend with the “written before AOTC” issue of authors not realizing that Jedi weren’t supposed to get married and have children. But I liked the look at how they handled discipline - Anakin gets in trouble, and he’s brought before the Council, and the whole process is about questioning him to get him to realize and admit what he did wrong, not punishment. They then make the decision to redirect his energy into something productive by sending him and Obi-Wan on a mission. Also, Anakin sees a Jedi therapist at the end of this book, so it’s a good one to throw back at anyone who claims that the Jedi never helped him or that the Jedi don’t do therapy. But…plot-wise…it’s a little weak, mostly in that not much is resolved because it’s mostly setting up for stuff that won’t pay off until much, much further down the line (as in, whenever the Yuuzhan-Vong show up). The ship-growing thing was cool though.

- Wild Space. If you’re looking for a ridiculously dramatic Obi-Wan whump fic that’s one step away from sticking Anakin, Obi-Wan, Padmé, and Bail in a foursome, this is the book for you. If you’re looking for things like accurate characterization, an interpretation of the Jedi consistent with the films, believable interpersonal communication, or an actual plot…you will be sorely disappointed by this book.

- Clone Wars Gambit: Stealth. This is the sequel to Wild Space. It has a second part, Clone Wars Gambit: Siege, which I have not been able to bring myself to read, which probably tells you all you need to know about my thoughts on the first one, though you can read more about them here. In short, I strongly do not recommend this book at all, and find it to be pretty terrible characterization (even though it’s played for sympathy) of the Jedi and especially Obi-Wan. Wild Space at least has absurdity going for it. Stealth does not.

And that’s it! That’s all I’ve read so far. I’m sure not everyone will agree with my opinions, but in terms of my personal recommendations/non-recommendations, this is what I have.

[raywritesthings]

Bird in a Storm 13/17

My Writing Fandom: Arrow Characters: Laurel Lance, Oliver Queen, John Diggle, Tommy Merlyn, Athena, Carly Diggle, Moira Queen, Thea Queen, Malcolm Merlyn Pairing: Laurel Lance/Oliver Queen Summary: The confrontation between the Hood and SWAT on the roof of the Winick Building goes differently, altering the course of Laurel’s career, relationships and efforts to save her city forever, the shockwaves of such an altered path making themselves felt throughout her family and friends. *Can be read on my AO3, link is in bio*

If there was one thing Carly hated the most about closing, it was taking the trash out back. And not just for the smell.

The back of the building let out into a darkened alley with no street lamps. It reeked of garbage thanks to all the times the truck just simply hadn’t shown up, and was usually populated by all her smoking coworkers during a rush.

This late, the alley was empty. Or so she’d thought.

Just as she heaved the bags up and over to throw in the dumpster, she felt the barrel of a gun press into her side. Carly froze.

“Who’s inside the restaurant?”

“My- my manager. Couple customers.” She drew in a shaky breath. “Please, I have a son.”

“Give me your tips,” the mugger growled.

“He’s not even ten years old, father shot on the job. I’m all he has, I swear to you,” Carly continued as she slowly reached into her apron for the money. Her mace was in her purse hanging from a peg in the back of the restaurant.

“Give me the money!”

Her hand closed around the bills, shaking in fear and anger. Didn’t anyone in this town have compassion? Pity at the least? “I’m begging you. It’s for his lunches in the cafeteria. They don’t give him food if he’s in debt.”

“You think I give a shit? Give me the money!” The gun pressed hard enough into her back that she thought it might bruise.

Carly took her hand out of her apron.

Whack!

Suddenly the gun left her back and she heard a thud of someone hitting the ground behind her. She whirled around, backing up several steps.

Her attacker was on the ground with a woman all in black standing over him. She carried a long stick which she’d clearly used to knock him out and wore a mask over her face.

“How- how did you?”

The masked woman looked up at her and gave a nod but no answer before running down the alley and out to the street. Carly stood there gaping a few moments after.

Had that really just happened? And to her? Sure she’d been grabbed earlier last winter by that military whacko who knew John, but this was something else.

The man on the ground gave a groan of pain, and Carly hurried back inside. She quickly explained to her manager, and the other woman agreed to phone the police.

John had stopped by in the time she’d been outside, it seemed. She was glad he wasn’t staying too far away even if their sort of date hadn’t worked out. A.J. needed a good role model.

Her brother-in-law stood from the booth he was waiting at and came over. “Everything alright, Carly?”

“For the most part. The police are gonna be here in a little while. This guy out back tried to jump me.”

John’s fists clenched at his sides. “Where is he?”

“Hey, it’s okay. You don’t need to get in trouble over this. Anyway he’s already hurting pretty bad. There was this woman.”

“A woman?”

“Yeah. She was all in black except her hair. A blonde. And she wore this mask. I guess she must be some other vigilante?” Carly shrugged. “Least the guy’s still breathing.”

“Yeah. Guess so.” John frowned. “She say anything to you?”

“No. I don’t even know how she knew to be there. I mean I’ve been hearing things about a woman — wasn’t sure if they were true. But I’m so glad it is.”

Getting mugged tonight wouldn’t have been the end of her world. But it would have been a setback she would have struggled to come back from for a long time, even if she’d borrowed from John for a time. Now she didn’t have to. She had her own money and her pride along with it.

If that’s what these vigilantes wanted to be about, she couldn’t say she’d complain about it.

---

John didn’t get home until after the police had left with Carly’s statement and her would-be attacker. They’d asked her to come in the next morning to describe the woman who’d saved her to a sketch artist as well, so he’d be taking her there. Just as well, since he hadn’t gotten the chance to tell her about his success in finally taking down Deadshot with Oliver’s help. Lyla had been mad as all hell at him for showing up until the Hood had kept what had ended up being a setup by Lawton from turning too ugly. Then she’d just pretended to be mad, though John was pretty sure he could still tell the difference.

In the present, he placed a call to Oliver to update him on the situation. “I’ll be late getting to the house tomorrow. Have to help Carly with something. Police matter.”

“Is she okay?” His friend asked.

“Fine. But she wouldn’t have been if that Woman hadn’t shown up tonight. She’s definitely real, Oliver. Carly’s giving them a description tomorrow.”

Oliver didn’t speak for a moment. “See if you can sit in on it. I don’t know if this Woman’s done enough to get her sketch on the news.”

They both knew busting up the odd small crime here or there didn’t drive up ratings. Then again, perhaps the novelty of a woman being the one doing so might be enough to pique media interest.

“You think it’s time to step in?”

“I’m not sure,” Oliver admitted, and he sounded discomfited to do so. “She’s not the Savior, she doesn’t look to be doing this for her own gain… I’m not sure what to make of her or how to find her except to get lucky and spot her out some night.”

“Well, luck be a lady,” John remarked. “And ladies tend to be mysterious.”

Oliver snorted, then said, “Keep me updated about the police sketch.”

“Alright.” He hung up and eased himself back up out of his chair. If he was going to the precinct tomorrow, he wanted to have some research already done to see if he could pick up on anything else they might be talking about regarding this Woman.

He went looking through some recent reports out of the Glades. Just as Raisa, Detective Lance and Carly now said, there were rumors growing about a woman in black. Taking on gang bangers, putting a stop to a rash of bus hijackings...the more he read, the more it sounded familiar.

John went through each of his suits, digging deep into the pockets until he came across a folded piece of paper. The list Laurel had written up for Oliver weeks ago.

It was almost identical.

He sat back on his bed, hand running down his face. It wasn’t definitive proof, but it was a damning coincidence at the very least. And what was he going to do if it was more than a coincidence?

He’d warned Oliver that the problems in this city were many and varied, that people wanted to see more than some billionaires getting knocked down a few pegs. Laurel had warned him, too. Now it seemed she — or someone — had taken matters into her own hands. And he couldn’t quite bring himself to disagree.

That was the trouble that came in signing up for this kind of crusade; it was a slippery slope. How did he support Oliver while condemning Laurel? The key, he supposed, was in learning what her motivations were. If she was even the one doing this.

One thing was certain: there was no way he could suggest the Woman and Laurel were the same person to Oliver unless he had real evidence or a confirmation. It would only start another argument otherwise, judging by how fiercely protective he’d become of his mother. So he was going to have to confront her on his own.

He kept his suspicions to himself while he sat in a chair at the precinct with Carly. The sketch artist drew up a picture of a beautiful blonde in a black mask. It didn’t look just like Laurel, but it didn’t not look like her at the same time. Still, no reason for him to voice his concerns just yet. Especially when doing so would paint a big target right back over Oliver, and himself by extension.

He kept his eyes on the road as he drove Carly back to her apartment, still unsure how to address the news he’d intended to give her last night. Eventually, he said, “There was an Op the other night. The Feds. And, uh… they got him.”

“Him?”

“Andy’s killer.”

He heard Carly turn her head and chanced meeting her eyes. “Really?”

“Yeah. He’s in custody now.” Lyla had held him back from doing something he knew he’d probably regret, as much as his anger was telling him Deadshot should be dead in the ground for good just like his brother. “He was wanted for a lot of stuff by the government. Sensitive stuff. So there’s not really gonna be a trial or anything, but I wanted you to know.”

He pulled the car to a stop outside her building. Carly didn’t get out right away.

“Were you there?”

John nodded.

“Thank you.” She leaned across the seats and hugged him. “I don’t know what I’ll tell A.J., or when, but… I’ll sleep better, knowing he’s getting what he deserves.”

John swallowed down the little of his disappointment that remained. If Carly was satisfied, then that would have to be enough.

She got out, and he continued through the neighborhood to his next stop. He’d have to hope she was in.

John knocked on the door of Laurel’s place but received no answer. Soft music from around the back drew his attention, so he circled around to the small yard.

Laurel was crouched beside a very rough-looking bike, looking to be struggling with a tuneup. She sat back with an exhale.

“Roy, great, I could really use some help—” Laurel stopped when she caught sight of him.

“Sorry, not Roy,” he said unnecessarily. “But I might still be able to lend a hand.”

Laurel stood rather than keep working, wiping her hands off on a towel that had seen better days. In the tank top she wore, John could definitely tell she had truly dedicated herself to the training Oliver had mentioned she’d picked up.

“Is Oliver okay?”

“He’s fine. Was glad to get your tip on Rasmus.”

Laurel nodded.

“Surprised you didn’t just take care of him yourself,” he added casually, watching her freeze for a crucial instant. John nodded to the bike. “Is the Woman gonna be spotted on this any time soon?”

Laurel hung her head for a moment, then leaned over to switch off the music playing from her phone sitting on the ground.

“Okay, great. Everyone knows I’m a vigilante. I guess Oliver has a better handle on the whole ‘secret’ thing,” she muttered as she straightened up.

“There’s a reason he acts the way he does in public,” John pointed out. “But you wear your heart on your sleeve, Laurel. Of course you’d be doing this.” He took a step closer, looking out to make sure they truly were alone. “What I have to ask is, why didn’t you say anything?” Did she really not want them to know? And was it because she wasn’t interested in working with them or some other kind of reason?

“How do you think Oliver would react if he knew?”

John grimaced. “Not well.”

Laurel nodded. “Exactly.”

“But, him finding out you decided to take on the problems you pointed out might make him decide to take them on himself. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“Not anymore.” She heaved a sigh. “Since doing this, I’ve realized just how much it is, and expecting one person to tackle it all would be impossible. Oliver has his mission, and I get why. If that’s what he needs to do to absolve himself of survivor’s guilt over his father, he needs to do it. And it does help the city.”

John frowned, unable to deny her point. He was privy to just how overwhelmed Oliver got at times. Expecting him to do it all was an unfair burden.

“It’s the only way left I have to help, too,” Laurel added. “Isn’t that why you work with him?”

“Yeah, but I work with him. However he would react, he’s going to find out eventually, Laurel.”

“I know,” she admitted, looking down. “But I’m not going to stop.”

“No, I didn’t think you were. You got the same look in your eyes when you talk about going out there that he does.” He wasn’t sure he understood it fully, how two otherwise civilians could decide to throw all caution to the winds night after night in an effort to clean up the streets. Maybe it really wasn’t about the training; maybe it was just about the person. “If he asks, I have to tell him.”

“I understand.” She at least didn’t look angry with him, merely resigned. So there they were.

John bent down towards her toolbox. “This wrench will work better for what you’re doing.”

The corner of her mouth lifted as she took it from him. “Thanks.”

“So who all knows? This Roy?”

“Yeah. My old trainer, Ted. And you. That’s really it, but you know, not great for that number to keep going up.”

“From what I can tell, it only keeps going up. Secrets always get out.”

“Maybe. That’s a risk I knew going in, I guess.”

“Have you thought about what happens when your father might be forced to arrest you some day?”

“He’ll have to catch me first. And it can’t hurt worse than a rubber bullet, so.” She shrugged. “Believe me, John, I’ve thought of all the reasons not to do this. You don’t need to walk me back through it.”

“Guess I can’t help trying.” He turned and began walking back to the street. “Be careful out there.”

“You too.”

John still hadn’t decided if he was going to wait for Oliver to bring up the topic or if he was going to just get to the point on his own by the time he reached the base. But then it didn’t really seem to matter when his partner of sorts was already gearing up for a serious brawl.

“Felicity thinks she has a hit on Walter,” Oliver said the minute John cleared the steps, hope in his eyes for the first time in a while when it came to talking about his stepfather. “There’s a large sum in Dominic Alonzo’s account that’s dated the same night of the abduction. If we can get to him, we might have a lead on what happened.”

Faced with Oliver’s rare optimism, John just couldn’t bring himself to do it. Telling him about Laurel would only throw him off of what they were working on now, and the information on Walter wasn’t getting any more recent. They needed to act as fast as possible if they had even a prayer of finding him alive.

So John held his tongue and told himself what Laurel was no doubt telling herself: Oliver would just have to understand.

---

Tommy stood by his father’s bed, fingering the vial in his pocket. According to the woman who’d called herself Athena the other night, the contents of this vial were all that could save his father from death or from life as a vegetable. But could he risk it?

He didn’t have a way of verifying her word or her identity. But she had at least shown him her face. That was more than the Hood had done. If she wanted to poison his father, she likely could have snuck into the hospital and done it herself, considering how she had slipped past the mansion’s security team with ease.

Visiting hours were almost over, which meant that he needed to choose. What did he have to lose? He knew, active as his dad had always been, he would hate spending the rest of his days on life support, stuck decaying in a hospital bed. And Tommy did not want to pull the plug until he had tried everything.

So, with a look to the door to ensure he wasn’t about to get walked in on by a nurse, he took out the vial and added the liquid inside to the IV feeding down into his father’s arm. Tommy watched the liquid slowly descend and disappear beneath the paper tape covering the needle. He held his breath for as long as physically possible. Watching, waiting.

No change.

He deflated, even as he reminded himself that Athena had said it would take time. He needed to let the vial’s contents work through his dad’s system before he decided if this had been a waste of time and hope.

For now, he returned to his new office inside Merlyn Global. He both loathed and craved being in this place at the same time; this was where he had nearly lost his father. Yet that same night had shown him just how much his father loved him, that he had fought and even killed to keep Tommy safe. 

If this mysterious cure worked and he had the chance to speak with his dad again, Tommy knew he would apologize for ever assuming his father hadn’t cared. They had grown a lot closer in the time before his father’s injury, and he wanted that to continue. He wanted to understand him. Perhaps this Athena, if she was sticking around, could help him.

With one call on the special phone he had been given, it was not long until the very woman he had been thinking of entered his office. “Very elegant,” she remarked.

“That’s down to my father’s good taste,” Tommy said. “I gave him what you told me to about an hour ago. How long?”

“It is not an exact science. I am confident he will show signs of improvement before the night is over. Now,” Athena said, walking further into the room. “What is truly on your mind?”

Tommy smirked to himself. Was he really that obvious?

“This wall,” he answered, walking up to it. He revealed the panel of buttons hidden under a piece of artwork. “It’s false. My father was keeping something behind here, but I didn’t see what. I also didn’t see what code he put in.”

“I have been trained in code breaking,” Athena said. “But I do not think it will be necessary in this case. You are your father’s son, Thomas. You know him better than those who think they have seen his true face. What drives him?”

That was an easy question after the speech his dad had given shortly before the attack that had landed him in a hospital bed in Starling General. Which could leave only two dates, though Tommy quickly dismissed the birthday. Neither of them had felt much reason to celebrate that milestone, not without her there with them. It was the death date that he entered in on the panel instead.

1-0-0-3-9-3

The light turned green for a moment, and the wall slid aside.

What waited behind the wall caused him to back up with a startled cry. It couldn’t be real.

But the evidence remained before him. A black suit with a head covering, a quiver of black arrows and a bow. The copycat archer’s armaments and more were in his father’s possession.

“His uniform,” Athena said with warmth and reverence. “I knew he would keep it close.”

“His? He’s — he can’t be,” Tommy insisted, even as his mind went to the two Triad men his father had fought and killed without a moment’s hesitation. “I don’t understand.”

“I told you your father belonged to an ancient order,” Athena repeated. “It is one based on the oldest form of justice known to man: evil must be replaced by death.”

“But the- that’s — he took hostages!” None of those people to his knowledge had been criminals, not even of the embezzlement kind.

“And were any of those hostages harmed?”

His mouth snapped shut.

“Your father waited to engage the Hood until after the hostages had been sent back to the authorities, according to the reports I have read. Their only purpose was to draw this vigilante out.”

“But… why? Why do any of it?” He just couldn’t seem to grasp that his father had taken on that crazy vigilante at Christmas.

“Your father has been attempting to retrieve Starling City from the brink of decay. Crime, corruption and apathy rule its citizens. Even the attempts of the local relief efforts have failed to improve its citizenry. Your mother learned this the hard way.”

Tommy swallowed. Yes, he could agree that Starling City was a festering pile of shit most days, and the Glades most of all. Something should have been done about it a long time ago. But the idea of taking that knowledge and acting upon it with violence in return, was that really the way?

The Hood seemed to think so, he supposed. And Laurel believed that particular killer was a hero. There were rumors of others beating the snot out of these gangbangers and robbers. Was his father’s old form of justice really so far removed from their society when they were letting Robin Hood and his ilk roam free?

“You said you had knowledge of his plans,” Tommy began slowly. “What were they?”

“There is a phenomenon referred to by your National Park Service as ‘natural fire’, she explained, walking away from the secret room and instead turning to the windows overlooking the city. Tommy followed. “In order to revitalize nature and the lives of those creatures who dwell in such places, humanity allows these fires to burn away the parts of the forest filled with debris and detritus. They then flourish anew. So too will the Glades in your father’s vision.” Her eyes were fixed on that part of the city, which always stood out as an ugly mar beyond the tall, pristine buildings and clean streets of downtown.

“He wants to… burn them?”

Athena’s lips quirked. “Not quite. But a similar act of nature will do the job.”

If the copycat archer’s suit — his father’s suit — wasn’t standing in a case behind him, he would think she was making this up. But there was evidence to back up her claim. His father had closed his mother’s clinic after how many years of increasing crime in the Glades — why now unless he knew something was coming?

“These aren’t trees or animals, though. There are people down there. Families, children.” Laurel, he thought to himself.

“People who have chosen lives of crime and substance abuse. You have multiple stories in your culture’s religious tract of various peoples being punished for the actions of the collective evil. Is this not so different?”

“Nobody’s even sure those things really happened. They’re stories or warnings. I don’t know.” He hadn’t really done the whole Sunday School thing after his mother died. “Look, the Glades are beyond saving. The Hood and anyone else who thinks so are just delaying the inevitable. But this isn’t the answer.” He backed away, leaving the office and placing his head in his hands as he rode down in the elevator.

Was this really what his father wanted? Tommy wouldn’t know, not until his dad healed enough to ask. All he had was Athena’s word, and the matter-of-face way she spoke of this unnerved him.

He needed to get out of here, needed to think, needed — a friend.

He didn’t have very many of those. And after their last conversation, would Oliver even want to see him? But he didn’t know who else to turn to.

Tommy jumped in his car and traveled the familiar route to the club. Inside, he asked around for his friend, avoiding Thea’s busboy friend, and learned Oliver had been around but had gone down to his private office as per usual.

Tommy had never been to that part of the building himself. Oliver had been a much more private person upon returning from the island, and he had always gotten the impression that he was not exactly welcome. But after the attack on the club by that deranged firefighter where Oliver had gotten lost in the building, Tommy had had a copy of each of the door keys made for himself to make sure that he could get to his friend in an emergency if need be.

So he went around to the outside of the club and the back door he had never used. It took a few moments for him to find the right key, but he turned it in the lock and entered.

“Ollie?”

The room was dark, which likely meant no one was in. Tommy searched around for the light switch on the wall.

“I could really use some— advice,” he finished, the last word dropping almost soundlessly from his lips as the lights came on, suddenly illuminating the space.

The room was sectioned off into smaller areas, one with what looked like a mat like the kind the gym teachers put down when they were practicing tumbling in grade school. Other workout gear was around there as well. Then another section was made up of a table with computer monitors and other technology.

Tommy’s eyes, however, were fixed on the last section. A table upon which stood a row of arrows not unlike what was waiting back in his father’s office, but tipped in green. The Hood’s arrows.

Oliver was the Hood.

He wanted to reject the evidence before him, and yet it was all too obvious now that it was staring him in the face. Why would the Hood have been around in the middle of the day to rescue them from those thugs? Oliver had killed them himself, then made up the story. Why was Oliver always making excuses to be somewhere else, leaving his mother and sister behind to worry? Because he was out there in the streets hunting his chosen prey. Why would Laurel have fallen for him so completely? Because it was the man she loved.

And he had left her to fall, Tommy realized, his shock disappearing in a flash of anger. Oliver had been the one to lure her onto that roof, get her shot at, taken her away while Tommy had searched and worried — probably to this very place.

She knew. Laurel had known Oliver’s secret from at least then on, and kept it from Tommy. They both had. It was the two of them as always, shutting him out. How could he have ever dared to think Laurel even cared about him, when she would throw her own career and life away for Oliver’s sake, even after all he had done and become? They deserved each other, and it was a vicious thought. He almost wished his shot hadn’t missed the green-clad archer that night in his father’s office — that night Oliver, his own friend, didn’t save his father. He’d been lying this whole time to Tommy, pretending to be a sympathetic ear all the while never telling him the role he had played.

He needed to leave. If Oliver discovered him here, what would he do? Was Tommy allowed to know, or would he be silenced? He couldn’t say. He didn’t know his own best friend anymore. The man he’d thought of as a brother had truly died out at sea, and a monster had taken his face.

Tommy sat in his car, having no idea where he could go. His friends had all betrayed him, and he still didn’t know how to feel about what Athena had told him. He needed guidance, yet there was no one in his life who could provide it.

His phone range. And Tommy answered it with a weary, “What?”

“Thomas Merlyn? This is Dr. Adams from Starling General.”

He sat up straight in the driver’s seat. “Is my father okay?”

“He is. He’s doing better than we truthfully expected. He seems to be responding to some stimuli. We think it would be helpful for you to come in and sit with him, at least for a little while. Coma patients respond best to family and loved ones.”

“I’ll be right there.”

It had worked. The miracle liquid Athena had given him had worked. Or was working. He raced to the hospital and up to his father’s room, heart in his throat.

“Dad?”

His father’s eyes were just barely open. Tommy was ushered into the chair at his bedside, and he took hold of his father’s hand. “It’s me, dad. It’s Tommy. You’re gonna be okay. You need to be, cause we have stuff to talk about, alright? Stuff to do. I know- I know everything now. And it’s okay. It’ll be okay when we can talk.”

Very slightly at first, and then more rapidly, his dad’s eyelids fluttered. The hand Tommy held squeezed his fingers.

Grateful tears sprang to his eyes. “He’s really there. Oh, thank God.”

He stayed another hour, keeping up a constant stream of chatter about the company and the house, old forgotten childhood memories. His father never quite managed to fully open his eyes. Eventually, the doctors decided it would be best to leave him to rest some more and asked Tommy to come back in the morning.

“I’ll be here first thing, dad. We can talk then, okay?”

Getting back into his car where he’d crookedly parked it in the garage, Tommy wiped at his eyes and let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. No matter what shocking things he had learned today, he had meant what he had said to his father; it would be okay now that he was getting better. Tommy could talk to him, reason with him about just what this whole plan was and if it was truly necessary. They could work it out together as father and son.

If nothing else, he had his family.

---

Moira wished she had her family here at home with her, but life seemed to find its ways to make that impossible. 

Oliver kept incredibly late hours thanks to the club he was running out in the Glades. She worried about him and knew that hiring Mr. Diggle to protect him especially as he traveled in and out of that neighborhood had been the right call.

Then there was Walter. At times, she didn’t know how she kept breathing let alone kept up her day-to-day obligations and appearances all the whole fretting over where he was, what he might be thinking. Horrid as it was, sometimes she had to force herself to stop thinking about his situation in order to just make it through the next board meeting or the next meal.

Thea was home tonight at least, though she’d been staying out rather late as often as not. It had begun shortly after she had started the community service at CNRI. Moira suspected a boy might be involved, but considering how little she had done to curb Oliver’s dalliances with the opposite sex, she couldn’t reasonably do so to Thea.

Were things different, she might have been worried about all the time her children were spending in the Glades and how to make sure they were not there once Unidac completed its work. But that had been one less worry on her mind for the last month now, even if the attack at Merlyn Global had not ended precisely with the result she had wanted.

Best not to think about that, either, Moira reminded herself. She and Thea were both relaxing in the sitting room after dinner, the television on low for something to look at more than anything.

The front door opened, and two sets of footsteps indicated her son and his bodyguard had finally arrived home. Moira looked up as they entered the sitting room, but whatever wry remark had come to mind died on her lips at the sight of both their expressions. She stood. “Oliver?”

“Mom. Thea.” His voice, normally quite steady and strong these days, barely carried. “There’s um, something we need to talk about. About Walter.”

Beside her on the couch, Thea perked up, but Moira felt frozen.

Mr. Diggle spoke next. “I reached out to some contacts I have in the FBI on Oliver’s behalf a while ago to see what they might be able to turn up for the case. The thing is, they’ve gotten word back.”

“No.” It took her a moment to realize she had been the one to speak. “No, it can’t be.”

“Did- did they find a body?” Thea asked, her voice breaking on the last word.

“He’s gone, Thea. I’m sorry.”

“No,” Moira repeated. Oliver stepped towards her but she got up and moved back. She couldn’t allow him to comfort her. That comfort would make it real when it obviously wasn’t. There was a mistake or a misunderstanding of some kind. She knew Walter was alive, had to be, because of her deal with Malcolm. And yet, could she really trust Malcolm to begin with?

Her first impulse was to leave, to seek out someone, something to set the record straight on what had to be an error. But who could? Malcolm could not answer to anything, and she had no way of her own to contact his associate. No one at Merlyn Global would either. Malcolm had always kept everything separate from the company, and Tommy of all people was running it. Tommy had no idea of the things his father had done.

No, as far as she or anyone else knew, this was the truth.

Standing as she was, Moira instead retreated up to her room to get away from her children and their stricken looks. She knew they thought she was crumbling. Well, she wasn’t. Or couldn’t. Not until she had had a moment to think. How could this be happening?

Had Malcolm’s people killed Walter once he had fallen into the coma and been unavailable to command them? Or had her husband been dead all this time? Either way, she was a widow once again, and the blame lay at the same man’s feet.

The blood pounded in her ears as one thought echoed through Moira’s head: no more. She was done being the victim, standing by as her family was picked off one by one. Malcolm slept in a hospital bed, utterly helpless. Why hadn’t they followed through? Why shouldn’t they?

Part of her had been afraid, but what did she have to fear now? Another part of her had thought leaving him to his fate in the hospital was enough. After all, without Malcolm in charge, she could put the Undertaking off indefinitely under the presumption that they should wait for his recovery. The rest of Tempest would have fallen in line. But it was not enough to scupper his plans now. Oh no; Moira had promised Malcolm what would come were he to harm her family, and Moira, at least, was a woman of her word.

She got out the phone she used for these sorts of discrete communications and dialed the number Frank had given her to arrange for the contract hit at the award ceremony. She waited three rings before it was picked up.

“Jade Dragon, how can we be of service?” A woman’s lightly accented voice spoke.

“Yes, I placed an order about a month ago that was never completed. I’m asking for it to be done now.”

She had waited too long to save her family from Malcolm’s madness, but Moira would protect what she had left and avert his horrific vision for the city in one fell swoop, the way she should have done years ago. For Robert, and now for Walter.

[padawanlost]

Palpatine WAS infringing on democracy. He’d sent governors to every system with their own troops. The senators had no power to rein him in because he had so many emergency powers already. The Republic had already become the Empire in every way but in name and the senators who signed that petition, who were later arrested, and the Jedi were the only ones not blinded by Palpatine’s act. Palpatine was the law and the final say on everything so nothing was legitimate unless he wanted it to be

Yeah, Palpatine was infringing on democracy but that’s not something they characters knew at the time. AFTER Palpatine got his emergency powers they thought he was there do save them. Palpatine was respected and the characters – until he revealed himself to Anakin – had no idea he was a sith Lord.  

But somehow Palpatine was changing that. Not by being a bully or imposing his will. Quite the opposite: he was constantly resisting the Senate’s eagerness for him to assume more and more executive powers. He resisted, the Senate insisted, so reluctantly Palpatine agreed. And every time he acquiesced to its requests, he turned once more to the Jedi for advice. It was hardly an ideal situation. The Jedi Council was not just another branch of the executive office. But how, in good conscience, could it refuse to aid a man who so humbly petitioned for their assistance? A man who championed them in the Senate at every opportunity? Who had worked tirelessly for peace since assuming the highest political office in the galaxy and was now faced with the daunting, terrifying task of keeping their vast Republic intact? How could the Jedi Council turn its back on such a man? Clearly, it couldn’t. Clearly, in the face of these extraordinary times, the Jedi must set aside their traditions and come to the aid of the man a galaxy looked to as its savior. [Karen Miller. Star Wars: The Clone Wars: Wild Space]

He’d sent governors to every system with their own troops.

Political appointments suck but they are very real part of politics and usually they are not illegal (unless we are talking about personal appointments like family members). Yeah, what he did was shady AF but, technically speaking, it wasn’t illegal.That’s why the senators first intentions was to ASK Palpatine not to abuse that power.

Besides, that had nothing to do with the reason the Jedi wanted Palpatine removed. The talks of treason started after someone told an amendment would pass putting the Jedi under the direct authority of the Chancellor. We never learn who had source was but it’s not unreasonable to assume Palpatine leaked that information in an attempt to goad the Council into action.

“This report—from where does it come?” “The Jedi still have friends in the Senate,” Mace Windu replied in his grim monotone, “for now.” “When presented this amendment is, passed it will be?” Mace nodded. “My source expects passage by acclamation. Overwhelming passage. Perhaps as early as this afternoon.” “The Chancellor’s goal in this—unclear to me it is,” Yoda said slowly. “Though nominally in command of the Council, the Senate may place him, the Jedi he cannot control. Moral, our authority has always been; much more than merely legal. Simply follow orders, Jedi do not!” “I don’t think he intends to control the Jedi,” Mace said. “By placing the Jedi Council under the control of the Office of the Supreme Chancellor, this amendment will give him the constitutional authority to disband the Order itself.” “Surely you cannot believe this is his intention.” “His intention?” Mace said darkly. “Perhaps not. But his intentions are irrelevant; all that matters now is the intent of the Sith Lord who has our government in his grip. And the Jedi Order may be all that stands between him and galactic domination. What do you think he will do?” “Authority to disband the Jedi, the Senate would never grant.” “The Senate will vote to grant exactly that. This afternoon.” [Matthew Stover. Revenge of the Sith]

Let’s keep in mind the Jedi Order was already part of the government (Judicial Branch) and under direct control of the Senate. their political involvement with the Republic was nothing new, their fear was to be disbanded (something at that point Palpatine made no public indication of wanting). All they had a this point was conjectures.

The senators had no power to rein him in because he had so many emergency powers already.

The senators gave him that power and as mentioned above, everyone was rather fine with it until their own power were directed influenced by them. and even them, they only *feared* Palpatine might dissolve the Republic. They had no real evidence. There was no investigation, only meeting about their suspicions.

The Republic had already become the Empire in every way but in name and the senators who signed that petition, who were later arrested, and the Jedi were the only ones not blinded by Palpatine’s act.

That’s not what happened, at all. We only heard about the arrests *after* the Empire was declared. After most Jedi are long dead. And, judging by the fact Bail Organa – one of the leaders of the opposition – had no idea about them we can assume they were fairly recent events. To imply those two events – political arrests and the jedi talking of treason – are somehow connected is very misleading.

So this is how liberty dies, she was saying to herself. With cheering, and applause. “We can’t let this happen!” Bail lurched to his feet. “I have to get to my pod—we can still enter a motion—” “No.” Her hand seized his arm with astonishing strength, and for the first time since he’d arrived, she looked straight into his eyes. “No, Bail, you can’t enter a motion. You can’t. Fang Zar has already been arrested, and Tundra Dowmeia, and it won’t be long until the entire Delegation of the Two Thousand are declared enemies of the state. You stayed off that list for good reason; don’t add your name by what you do today.” “But I can’t just stand by and watch—“[Matthew Stover. Revenge of the Sith]

Palpatine was the law and the final say on everything so nothing was legitimate unless he wanted it to be

Again, the characters did not know about Palpatine’s true intentions. And legitimate doesn’t necessarily mean legal. That’s why the right way to do remove Palpatine from office - considering you don’t know he’s a sith lord hell-bent on destroying everything and everyone – would’ve been to gain political allies and public support.

When a president is corrupt, the first option should always be the legal methods and those usually only work when there’s massive political and public involvement. The Senators tried that route and failed. The Council tried the unlawful method and it backfired horribly.

I’m not defending Palpatine I’m just considering the characters actions through the eyes of the actual characters. The truth is the characters didn’t have 1/10 of the knowledge we have and we have to take that in consideration when dissecting their actions.

[sparrow-flies-south]

Remus’s Guide To Mending Friendships [7/7]

Fandom: Sanders Sides Rating: Teen Pairings: Deceit & Virgil, Deceit & Virgil & Remus, Remus & Roman Warnings: Disturbing imagery (it’s Remus’s POV), imagined character death Summary: When he realises that Deceit misses Virgil, Remus decides that the best way to cheer him up is to persuade Virgil to come back to the dark side. Too bad Virgil hasn’t wanted anything to do with them since he left.

Taglist:@glitchybina

Part One   Part Two   Part Three  Part Four Part Five  Part Six   AO3

Remus bashed his Morningstar into the head of the manticore-chimera, sending pieces of skull and brain flying. He grinned and turned to see his audience’s reaction.

Deceit stood with his arms crossed behind the metal grate that separated him from the cave. He raised one eyebrow.

“You have blood on your face.”

Remus swiped a hand across his face, grinning when he saw it come away red. “Did you see me cripple its legs?” he asked, rocking on the balls of his feet.

“You took your time with it.”

“More fun that way.” Remus shifted his Morningstar so it rested on his shoulders.

Deceit rolled his eyes, but before he could say anything, Virgil appeared next to him. Deceit went still. Virgil looked around the cave, his eyes landing on Deceit, then Remus, and then the dead monster.

“What the hell is this place?” Virgil asked.

Remus spread his arms wide, grinning. “Monster fight club!”

One corner of Virgil’s mouth turned upwards briefly, before returning back to normal. “You have a monster fight club now. Of course you do.”

Deceit cleared his throat. “Remus, I’ll see you later.”

Remus frowned. “You’re leaving? Why?”

Deceit’s eyes darted to Virgil, before focusing on Remus again. “I have things to do.”

“I could come back later,” Virgil offered.

Deceit shook his head. “You don’t have to leave.”

“Neither do you.”

“Or Virgil could tell us what he’s here for before you both fall on your swords. Not that I’d object to that.”

Virgil shrugged. “It’s nothing. I just wanted to ask you something.”

“Great!” Remus said. He summoned a giant wolf. “Ask me once I’ve killed this.”

Deceit glared. “Remus,” he said warningly.

“Sorry, can’t hear you, too busy fighting!” Remus called, and he lunged at the wolf.

The wolf dodged his first attack, snarling. The wolf moved next, and Remus raised his Morningstar to meet it, but the wolf changed direction at the last minute. Remus had to dance away to avoid the wolf’s jaws.

“Oh my God,” Virgil said behind him. “He’s gonna get killed.”

“And yet, that’s never stopped him.”

Remus and the wolf circled each other.

“I don’t have to stay,” Deceit said.

“Shut up,” Virgil muttered. “I’m not gonna kick you out. That’s a dick move.”

The wolf leaped. Remus ducked down as the creature passed over him, and swiped at the wolf’s hind leg. The leg gave out when the wolf landed, sending it tumbling to the ground. It snarled.

“I deserved that comment.” Deceit sighed.

“Get used to them,” Virgil said.

The wolf pulled itself to its feet, not quite putting all its weight on its bad leg. Remus twirled his mace through the air a couple of times as he waited for the wolf to be ready.

“I thought you’d come back,” Deceit said.

“Better get used to disappointment, too.”

Remus dashed forward, swinging, but the wolf was fast enough to dodge out of the way. He twisted to face it.

“I meant in the argument,” Deceit said. “I didn’t expect you to just leave.”

“You told me to,” Virgil argued.

“You always do what I say.”

“Once I would have done anything for you,” Virgil said quietly.

The wolf was already there, and Remus held up his hands to keep it back. Its jaws snapped shut near his face. Remus pushed it away and brought his mace down on the wolf’s shoulder. The wolf collapsed to the floor, tried to snap at him, failed. Remus stepped back, waiting for it to rise again.

“I’m sorry,” Deceit said, so quiet it took Remus a moment to figure out what he’d just said.

Behind the grate, someone let out a choked, ragged noise.

The wolf got shakily to its feet. It could barely stand, but it wouldn’t give up. The pain just made it angrier. He didn’t give it a chance to attack again, however. He finished the fight with a quick blow to the back of the wolf’s neck.

He turned back to the grate. Virgil was staring straight ahead, but he clearly wasn’t seeing anything that was going on. Deceit was watching Virgil.

Remus cleared his throat. Virgil blinked, and focused on Remus. Deceit quickly looked away from Virgil.

“So,” Rems said, as if he had no idea what had just gone down. “What did you want to ask?”

Virgil looked confused, before he shook himself. “Right. Well, we’re gonna be watching a movie tonight. Starting at seven.”

Remus tilted his head. “Congratulations?”

Virgil stared at the ground. He scuffed it with one foot. “Never mind, it’s stupid.”

“I think,” Deceit said, his voice strange, “That Virgil is inviting you to the movie night.”

Remus almost laughed at that, but one look at Virgil’s nervous expression confirmed it.

“Oh,” Remus said.

Virgil shrugged, still not looking up. “Not just you.”

Remus glanced at Deceit, but his face remained impassive. It was as if he hadn’t heard what Virgil had just said.

Remus had been to movie nights before, but only when Thomas was there too. He had never been invited to one. It shouldn’t have meant anything; Remus didn’t need someone else’s permission to go anywhere. Except Virgil hunched further in on himself the longer Remus’s silence lasted, and that seemed to mean everything.

“You don’t have to. It’s dumb, I know.”

Deceit shot Remus a sharp look.

“We’ll be there,” Remus said.

Virgil glanced cautiously up. “Yeah?”

“Light side at seven,” Remus promised. “I’ll even wear clothes!”

Virgil snorted. “I appreciate it.”

He glanced at Deceit and then back again. “I’ll see you at seven, then.”

“Looking forward to it!”

Virgil nodded. He glanced at Deceit one more time, before vanishing.

Remus turned to Deceit, ready to gush about everything that had just happened, but Deceit didn’t look happy.

“Have fun tonight,” he said stiffly, and then he disappeared too.

 ***

Remus paced impatiently in the dark sides’ common room. It was seven o’clock, but there was no sign of Deceit.

Had he decided that they should show up late, for some reason? He hadn’t said anything to Remus, Remus hadn’t even seen him since the cave, but maybe it was some weird social custom that he assumed Remus knew about.

Or had he decided to go early, and so he was already there? Maybe they were all waiting for Remus, or maybe they’d decided that Remus wasn’t coming, and had started without him.

He paced the length of the room once, twice more, and then went to find Deceit.

Deceit looked bemused when he opened his door. “It’s seven o’clock,” he said.

Remus nodded, waiting for an explanation, for Deceit to roll his eyes and fondly explain that they couldn’t show up on time.

“Shouldn’t you be at the movie night?” Deceit asked.

Remus rolled his eyes. “Yeah, probably, so get a move on, will you?”

Deceit just looked confused. “I’m not going.”

Out of all the things Remus had expected, that hadn’t been one of them.

“You have to come,” he protested. “I can’t go on my own.”

“Why not?” Deceit asked. “The others like you. Virgil clearly wants you there.”

“He wants you there, too.” Remus pointed out. “Otherwise he wouldn’t have invited you.”

Deceit sighed, and shook his head. “Virgil wanted to be civil. He invited me as a platitude, nothing more.”

“Since when does Virgil care about being civil,” Remus gave the word the disgust it deserved.

“Remus, they don’t want me there.”

Remus stared at Deceit. It was clear he had made up his mind, and no amount of arguing would change it. Deceit was nothing if not stubborn.

Remus was stubborn too. He pushed past Deceit and walked into his room, and flopped down on the yellow bed.

“What are you doing?” Deceit asked.

“Getting comfy,” Remus answered, wiggling slightly on the bedsheets. “If you’re not going, I’m not either.”

Deceit narrowed his eyes. “I know what you’re trying to do,” he said.

“Glad we’re on the same page.”

“You can’t believe you can trick me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Get out,” Deceit hissed.

“Nope!” Remus sat up. “You want me to go, you have to come with me. Or you could try to make me.”

They both knew the latter was impossible. Remus was very good at not being moved. When he went boneless, it was very literal.

Deceit glared at him, his jaw twitching. Remus smiled right back.

Deceit threw up his hands. “Fine! But I reserve the right to leave at any time.”

“Sure,” Remus agreed, because he fully intended to not let Deceit leave until the movie was over.

Deceit narrowed his eyes, which probably meant he could see through Remus’s lie. Remus didn’t give him a chance to call him out on it, though. He grabbed Deceit by the arm, and sent them both to the light sides’ common room.

“Remus!” Patton greeted from the stairs. He was carrying a large pile of blankets. “I was beginning to wonder if you’d show up, kiddo.”

He took another step, and faltered when he saw Deceit, who stood stiffly in one place. “Uh, good to see you too,” Patton said awkwardly.

Patton reached the bottom of the stairs, and crossed over to the two of them. Next to them, Deceit tensed, but Patton just shoved the blankets into his arms. Deceit took them, staring at Patton bewildered.

“Take these to Roman, will you. He’s still setting up,” Patton ordered. “I’m gonna let Virgil know you’re here.”

Patton disappeared up the stairs without waiting for a reply. Remus shrugged, and grabbed Deceits arm, and dragged him through the living room.

They found Roman in the kitchen, trying to balance two large bowls of popcorn in his arms. He grinned when he saw them. “Remus!” he cheered. “And Snakeface!”

“Okay,” Deceit muttered, and turned to leave, but Remus tightened his grip and spun Deceit around again.

Deceit sighed, and held out the blankets towards Roman. “Where do you want these?” he asked.

“Just put them on the sofa,” Roman answered, and Deceit squirmed is way out of Remus’s grip to do that.

“How’d you get him to come?” Roman asked, once Deceit had left the room.

“I persuaded him with my charming personality,” Remus replied.

“Huh,” Roman said. “I would have just refused to leave him alone until he agreed.”

Remus laughed, and Roman handed him one of the bowls. The two of them followed Deceit out into the living room.

“So,” Roman said once they’d placed the bowls down on the coffee table. “Important question - for you too, Lies and Dolls: Salty or sweet popcorn?”

“Salty, duh,” Remus answered.

Roman made an affronted noise, and placed one hand over his heart. “I can’t believe this!” he cried. “I’ve been betrayed by own brother, in my own house! Truly, this is the worst thing to ever happen to me.”

“All the other times he betrayed you don’t count?” Deceit asked.

“Those betrayals pale in the face of this one,” Roman answered.

Remus snickered. “You need to open your mind,” he said. “Besides, salty is the flavour of-,”

“You’re here.”

Remus turned, mid-sentence, to see Virgil standing on the staircase, Patton hovering next to him. He glanced across at Deceit, who said nothing.

“Surprised?” Remus asked, when it was clear no one else was going to speak.

“Kind of, yeah,” Virgil answered, and descended the staircase. He cleared his throat. “Hey, uh, Deceit, can I talk to you?”

Deceit stiffened and shot a desperate glance at Remus. Remus gave him a thumbs up.

“Fine,” Deceit answered.  

Virgil led the way back upstairs, and Deceit followed, back ram-rod straight, walking as if he were going to a firing squad.

“Well,” Patton said, in the silence that followed. “How are the preparation’s going?”

“Patton,” Roman complained. “Did you know Remus, my own brother, likes salted popcorn?”

“Oh, good,” Patton said. “That means there’s someone else to eat it. Logan says he likes salted popcorn,” he added to Remus, conspiratorially, “But I’ve seen him sneak some out of the sweet bowl, when he thinks no one’s looking.”

Remus smiled. But he couldn’t stop glancing at the staircase, wondering what Deceit and Virgil were talking about.

Patton clapped his hands together. “We need drinks! What should we have?”

Roman started on a long monologue about how Pepsi was clearly the superior soda, and Remus took advantage of the distraction to slip upstairs. The black paint of Virgil’s door was peeling, probably for the aesthetic more than anything else. He crouched in front of it, and pressed his ear to the wood.

“- was angry that you left,” Deceit was saying, inside.

“Yeah, I got that,” Virgil replied.

There was pause.

“What you did wasn’t okay,” Virgil said.

“I know,” Deceit said. “If you want me to leave…”

“I invited you, didn’t I?”

Deceit said nothing.

“Look, I still haven’t forgiven you yet. But I think I could.”

Still, Deceit said nothing.

“I miss my friend,” Virgil added.

A hand grabbed Remus by his shoulder and pulled him backwards. Remus toppled over, so he was lying on his back. He stared up at Roman, who stood over him.

“There you are,” Roman said. “I should have known you were up to something nefarious.”

“Do you want to listen?” Remus offered.

For a moment, Roman looked tempted, before he shook his head. “No! Besides, Patton is looking for us. Come on.”

Reluctantly, Remus got to his feet and headed downstairs. Before they properly entered the living room, however, Roman held an arm out to stop him.

He gestured to upstairs. “Are they…?”

Remus didn’t really know what Virgil and Deceit were. “They’ll be okay,” he answered.

Roman nodded. “Good.”

Remus shot him a confused look. Roman had never seemed concerned about Deceit before.

“Virgil’s my friend,” Roman explained, and Remus nodded.

Patton smiled at them from where he was knelt by the refreshments. “I think we’re all set, kiddos. Now we just need to wait for the others to come down.”

It didn’t take long before Remus heard a door open and close upstairs. He heard Virgil say something, muffled, as Deceit descended the stairs.

Remus raised an eyebrow at Deceit. You good?

Deceit gave a short nod in response.

“Logan’s on his way,” Virgil said, as he followed.

The group clustered around the sofa, swapping blankets and bickering about what movie to watch. Even Deceit, though he didn’t join in the conversation. Remus found himself on the edge of the group. When no one was paying attention, he wandered to the staircase, and sat about halfway up it and watched.

Patton was sat at one end of the sofa, with Roman on the other end. Virgil and Deceit sat in the middle, both looking stiff, keeping far enough apart that they wouldn’t touch. Deceit turned his head to Virgil, his scales glinting in the light, and said something into his ear. Whatever it was, Virgil laughed.

“Is something the matter?”

Remus twisted around. Logan stood behind him, looking as well put together as always, though instead of his usual black shoes he wore a pair of periodic table socks.

“You are not sitting with the others,” Logan continued, apparently taking Remus’s silence for confusion. “Is there a problem?”

“Pretty sure the problem’s about two feet in front of you,” Remus quipped. When Logan didn’t respond, he shrugged.  “They’re having fun.”

Logan furrowed his brow. “Yes, that is why we are going to join them.”

Remus squirmed in his seat. Logan’s steady stare seemed to see right through him. “I’ll ruin it.”

“Falsehood,” Logan said firmly. “Your presence is, in fact, part of the desired experience. That is why we invited you.”

Remus blinked. “We?”

“Of course,” Logan said. “Virgil would not have invited someone without raising it with us first. We all agreed that we wanted you here.”

He glanced over the bannister and added, “Although we did agree on Deceit being here after the invitation was given.”

Remus shook his head. “You don’t even know me.”

“That is why I agreed to invite you.”

Remus was unable to think of a proper response to that. Logan nodded, as if the matter was settled, and stepped around him. In a daze, Remus stood up and followed.

Roman’s face lit up as soon as he saw Remus. “There you are!”

He gestured to the spot next to him, but Remus sat on the floor in front of him instead, and Logan took the offered seat. Roman nudged his with his foot, and Remus swatted Roman’s leg.

“Since you two are late, you lost your chance to vote,” Roman declared.

“You fix the votes anyway,” Virgil argued.

“Really?” Deceit sounded interested. “How?”

“Well,” Patton said, before Deceit and Roman got a chance to discuss different methods of cheating. “Now that everyone’s here, how about we start the movie?”

The familiar opening of Lilo and Stitch began to play. Remus leaned back, so that his back rested against the sofa and his arm rested next to Roman’s leg.

Almost immediately, Roman began a steady stream of sarcastic comments. When Deceit spoke up, a quarter of the way though, he managed to get a laugh from most of the group.

Okay, fine. Maybe the Light sides weren’t so bad company after all.

[theyruinedeuron]

So I’m rewatching GoT for the first time, with my girlfriend, because she hasn’t watched it before. 

When I first watched all of these episodes, I did so without a critical eye. I used to think, “Hey, they’re just trying to finish a story and George didn’t help them out. I’ll live with these decisions.” Then s7 and s8 happened and I couldn’t excuse it anymore. So now that I’m watching more critically, here’s a little thing I typed up. It deals mostly with s5, which fucking sucks. It does, people. Don’t let That One Good ACtion Sequence fool you. Because that’s what the show became, slowly starting in s4, expanding in 5, and taking full hold in 6. It was writing to get from one Big Event to the next. The stuff in between was just filler. 

The show really takes a downturn when they started writing their own original story lines. They're fairly bad writers. They don't care about logical consistency at all. For instance, multiple times in season 5, once by Littlefinger, and once by Benioff himself, Stannis is referred to as having one of the finest military minds in Westeros. And yet he does nothing to show that at all, and in fact, by letting RAmsay Bolton destroy all of his shit with 20 men and then letting Ramsay just surround him on the field of battle, looks like one of the dumbest military minds in Westeros. When they chose to only do 7 1/2 seasons it obviously meant story lines had to be cut and various side character plots had to be given to main characters. But the problem is, they SUCKED at doing it in a logical manner. Here are all of the absolutely dumb fucking story lines in 5: 1. Sansa being sold to the Boltons. Now, perhaps it makes some logical sense for Littlefinger to make his move on the Throne, what with Twyin dead, Tommen being a weak ruler, Cersei doing everything she possibly can to fuck over the Tyrells, and the Freys essentially taking command of the Riverlands. Ally the Vale with the Boltons and Freys, and you might be able to march South. But Littlefinger specifically says to Sansa that he would put his money on..STANNIS WINNING. Let me say that again, Littlefinger tells Sansa that he thinks STANNIS WILL BEAT THE BOLTONS. So then, why would you ally with the Boltons if you think they're about to lose the fucking war? Now, I get it that Littlefinger probably figures he has no shot at allying himself with Stannis, what with what happened at the Blackwater. But there are other options out there...like, ya know, the Tyrells, whom Littlefinger already has a relationship with. Or the Martells, who despise the Lannisters entirely. 2. Dorne is just a total mess. I wasn't a huge fan of Dorne in the books, and I understand not wanting to introduce 8 Sand Sankes, Arianne, Quentyn, and a Prince Doran who is a much larger player in the books. That's a lot of new characters for a TV show 5 seasons in. Ok. So we have to condense the story and they chose to use the woman who we've already met in season 4. Fine. But, holy fuck is it stupid. First of all, every scene that involves the Sand Snakes is just cringe. But the real issue, and its the issue that plagues the entire season, and eventually the rest of the series going forward, is the total lack of political consequences in any meaningful way. George doesn't let that happen, and when they're following George, you got to see that. JOffrey sucks as a ruler and is believed to be the child of incest? Alright, well here comes a crowd riot wherein Sansa almost gets raped. Ned telling Cersei he knows she fucks Jaime, ordering Twyin to the Capital and the arrest of the Mountain, and then not seizing the Throne to prevent Cersei and Joffrey from taking him out? Ok, there goes his head. Same with Robb. But here, Elia and the Sand Snakes kill the Prince of Dorne and his son and...nothing. THey just...take over. With four people. The entire Dornish army just follows them w/o question. No political consequences at all in Dorne. We're just supposed to assume that assassinations and coups are just easy peasy, over and done. Which flies totally in the face of what we know about assassinating beloved leaders. Littlefinger killed Lysa because she couldn't keep her mouth shut about John ARryn. Had people found out, they'd have executed Littlefinger in the Vale. But Elia? Nah, who cares bro... Then, when they try to still have some semblance of a political drama as opposed to a series based around 3-4 Major Action Sequences a season with various annoying plot points in between, you get the stupidity of Jon being killed. So, they kill him for allowing Wildlings in...after letting the Wildlings in??????? Like....they're already in. Thorne LET THEM IN. In the books, they kill him because he's about to take a Wildling Army South and fight for Winterfell, clearly violating his oaths. By killing him, they actually stop that action. Here..they stop nothing. They do nothing. All of the Wildlings are already fucking south of the wall. Too late. This continues into the later seasons. Cersei, after being found out as a incestuous, not only resumes her role as Queen w/o so much as a peep from the commoners or Lords, but she then kills off 1) Mace, Margaery and Loras Tyrell. One is the head of a beloved House who feeds the capital. His daughter is a beloved Queen who goes out of her way to help the poor and the other is a popular swordsmen who was won multiple tourneys. 2) The High Sparrow, a religious revolutionary who has captured the hearts of the city and the faith 3) Kevan Lannister, the eldest stateman of House Lannister and countless others. And what happens to her? Well, Varys talks a little about how she's hated by the common folk but...that's it. I mean sure, Dorne and Highgarden join her enemy, but they die in the span of two episodes. Totally and completely. And when Cersei loses, it has zip to do with her poor ass decision making. Randomly killing off your allies, your very rich allies (when you're House is actually now broke), is a terrible idea. But she pays no price. She lost for the same reason whoever loses to Daenerys in the books will lose. Whether that's Cersei or fAegon or even Stannis on the Throne when she gets to Westeros. George has beaten us over the head time and time and time again: they'll lose because Daenerys has dragons and they don't. Cersei never paid once for her shitty decisions. Which makes their decision to focus the end of the series on the political element truly disastrous. They stopped giving a fuck about showing any real political ramifications in season 5. Also, I used to be a fan of keeping Beric and not bringing in Lady Stoneheart. I didn't like the character. But, seeing how they had no idea whatsoever how to use Jaime if he wasn't tied to Cersei (and probably just making the decision to keep Jaime with Cersei because they liked Lena too much), I'd have rather had Lady Stoneheart and the plot from the books. Because when they have to get Jaime out of KL for Cersei to 1) Beclown herself and get arrested by the Faith and 2) Blow up the Sept, causing the death of their son, they do so in the clumsiest, most boring ways possible. First, was this Dornish mission, that sucks ass. Later, it's the pointless Siege of RIverrun. Then you've got the really idiotic shit Jaime puts up with. Like, ok dude, you love her even though she cheated on you with Lancel. But, um, she just caused YOUR SON to jump out of the window......and you're still fucking her? What a waste of a character arc.

[hall-of-merlin2]

Magic, Monsters and Merthur - 1x02 - (Magic)

Episode 2! Whoop!

It’s a shame that the magic is my favorite subject in this “analysis”. It doesn’t get interesting until much, much later. But I do rant a bit, so a warning for that ahead of time.

Short version of what we know already - two prophecies for the world, we got the bad timeline. Magic is a living being that blessed humans, but humans didn’t like that it didn’t give them god-like powers, so they made their own blessings and then fought something that shouldn’t even be fight-able, and won.

Somehow.

And... Immediately I’m making more changes to what I put in certain sections... Merthur is not only Merthur, it is also all characters, the Monsters isn’t just the magical creatures, it’s also the villains, and the Magic isn’t just the magic, but also about the history of Camelot, and certain tidbits about universe-expanding.

It’s either this or I make yet another post after all of the “original” ones, just called “Random Observations”, which I don’t think is necessary.

<_><_><_>

<_><_><_:>

09:11

This guy always intrigued me. The Knights of Camelot have a very limited fighting style, usually one sword and one shield, no shield if it’s not available and very minimal theatrics or hand-to-hand combat. Also not very good with several opponents, they’re best against a single strong enemy that they can clash with endlessly. They’re quick, but not incredibly, they’re durable, but still have limits, they’re strong, but flawed in certain areas. Versatile, but at so many things that they end up just being average at everything.

This guy, on the other hand, is officially a knight. And his fighting style – his armor and weapons too – are from a completely different continent. My question is how he adopted this style, where he adopted it from, how he ended up close enough to Camelot to hear of the tournament and then enter it, and how the fuck he got himself knighted. We don’t see many people like this in the future, and it’s not because Uther doesn’t allow them, he’s clearly rooting for this guy to win, but there’s still an abundance of knights that fight like Camelot’s – versatile, but average.

I just want to know why we didn’t get more different styles, why Gwaine or even Lancelot, Percival too, ELYAN, people who first fought with what they had, not the fancy swords Camelot provided them with, didn’t have their own styles of fighting independent from what knighthood had forced upon them. I know Gwaine still has some of his brawler instincts, using words more than fists to win a fight with wit, I’m not sure that Lancelot had professional knight training, but he should have picked up a few cheeky tactics from his time traveling around the whole island, I dunno where Percival came from but… Have you seen him hold a sword? He looks so awkward with it, it’s so small in his hands! He definitely needed a giant mace or a club that he could bash people over the head with. And Elyan! He was a blacksmith, you cannot tell me that while he wasn’t in Camelot he didn’t pick up even the tiniest wind of swords being made differently – with curves, sharp or dull edges – and didn’t try to make and practice with one himself! Maybe he knew of the “quota”, of how swords are generally made, and maybe he was taught to make swords in this specific way and he didn’t want to deviate…

But do all of these travelers, while traveling through places that have never even heard of the name Camelot, always found the perfect run-of-the-mill Camelot knight sword to fight with?

I just don’t believe it.

More variety in sword fights dammit.

<_><_><_>

39:36

So… There’s a spell that can… Revive stone?

Surely the dog wasn’t made into stone to make that statue, that would be magic and you know how the big bad thinks of it. That’s just literal stone, and there’s a whole spell that just… Makes stone into a living being? How the hell does that work.

…the afanc uses the same principle.

So making living things out of dead material seems to be a trend, with several different spells usable. Which is cool, it’s probably just an exchange of life-force between the summoner and the summoned, would be simple if not for the “a life for a life” thing that the Cup of Life is based on.

To create a life a life must be taken – but it only applies to humans?

I think I go more indepth into the Cup of Life in… Oh fuck in another season. But yeah, it’s life-force exchange, so… it’s either only humans are considered “lives” which is just bullshit and I don’t accept it or it’s literally taking ANYTHING to create that life and the “a life for a life” thing is absolute ridiculousness thought up by somebody.

It’s just taking anything, anything at all, and using the life-force in that object, paired with the one that the summoner has to create literal life.

Clay? Usable.

Stone? Usable.

Another human? That’s going overboard for a bit of drama.

So Arthur could have lived if there was like a flower used to revive him.

The anthill theory is valid! Merlin needs to chuck one into Avalon as soon as possible.

(The anthill theory is… again, something that someone more clever than me thought up. There was a talk about Avalon and the equivalent exchange of lives that it proposes, how a beetle is worth a worm and three worms makes a cat and four cats makes a prat, or something along those lines. Then it was suggested that ANY life works, which then spiraled into an idea that if Merlin would just throw a whole anthill into Avalon, he could bring back Balinor, Will, Lancelot, Gwaine, Elyan, and anyone else he wanted. It was a fun little idea, but it seems to have more value than I originally thought.)

Also… Quite of a rant incoming.

This scene makes me sad – because Merlin is losing his instinctive magical abilities. He has enough wit to understand that this is possible and this is how the shield works, but not confident enough in himself to just… Force the stone to turn into what he wants it to. He’s confined himself to spells and that makes me sad because he could actually probably revive more than stone, more than plants or wildlife when they die, but probably even people. (This is yet another idea proposed by someone more intelligent than me, I just took it and ran.) And it wouldn’t even be considered necromancy, Merlin would literally be a human Cup of Life but without needing to take anything from anything because there’s just so much power within him already.

This is why I wanted to study and document and theorize about the Magic of Merlin. Not because there wasn’t enough told, not because it was barely used, not because it’s lame and I want it to be cool. It’s the direct opposite of all those things – these was so much shit told about the past and the Old Religion and the Faction Wars and so many amulets and necklaces and spells were used it’s actually incredible how fleshed out it is! And it being a key point of nearly episode did not make me miss it when there were pure dramatic episodes. Magic in Merlin is cool, what isn’t cool is that they didn’t do anything with it. I don’t mean that it wasn’t used for plot points and fun episodes, I mean that that was it – just a running gag, a convenient way to think of new ideas and keep the episodes going, it was never Magic just for the sake of being Magic. There wasn’t a magic reveal until the very end, where it didn’t matter what happened after, we weren’t going to see it. There wasn’t a kingdom that just accepted magic and didn’t kill people for having it, Merlin never went to such a kingdom for reprieve, there wasn’t a secret sorcerer underground that Merlin and other sorcerers could consult to help on various tasks or just talk and be happy that there’s so many of them despite everything. Magic wasn’t the wondrous and mystical and amazing thing that the show made it out to be, it was incantations pronounced correctly and rituals that could kill you if you messed up one thing and magical items that weren’t even that magical, the most mysticism that’s come out of them being “You don’t know what we will actually do if you use us, beware the consequences” which is bullshit and not magical at all. Magic was made out to be this scary and dangerous thing, and seen by people as something evil in a world where royals could literally cut off food for their people during a plague – that was seen as more normal than someone probably not magical talking to possibly magical people once.

It’s just… Why are people so afraid to make magic this overpowered, convenient plot point that’s just fun to see without putting a thousand limitations and incantations and rituals and complications and consequences on top of it just so it’s “used sparingly” and “not for messing around” and “for a greater purpose” rather than just being something you can fill 5 pages of a book that’s lacking action with?

Let Magic be fun. Let it be mystical, understandable but still something that people question the legitimacy of in real life terms.

Let it be the genre it was supposed to be – pure, colorful, tooth-rotting fluff fantasy.

But if no one else is gonna do it, I will.

<_><_><_>

The Monsters

The Merthur

[sharktoraptor]

Survivor Daemons

Here’s a whole bunch of blabber that no one asked for about my Dbd daemon AU, featuring the reasoning behind the forms of the survivor’s daemons and a little about their personalities. Why? Because I can and I felt like typing a whole bunch of stuff that no one will read

There are a lot of additional rules and complications for daemons in trials, and I’m probably going to make a separate post both for that and for the Killer’s daemons (or... current lack thereof), because this got VERY long.

And before we get started, here’s a plug for my currently abandoned fic playing with this concept. Ima get back to it at some point.

First off, I had some limits for survivor forms. Their daemons have to be small, and easy to carry around in a trial. Most of them ended up being birds, with a couple of exceptions. Also, only a couple of the names mean anything- I got almost all of them from a fantasy name generator and just picked one that sounded nice.

Dwight and Zefrita

Zefrita (Zeffie) is a mourning dove, and I chose her form for a couple of reasons. Mourning doves are entirely defenseless against their predators (except for natural camouflage) and are therefore very flighty, anxious birds. They are also known for forming close, lifelong pair-bonds, and since Dwight’s perks are all about teamwork and literal bonds between survivors, that seemed to resonate with him.

Zefrita is a very quiet daemon, and only talks to the other survivor’s daemons (and Dwight, of course). While Dwight stammers and hesitates a lot when he’s flustered or anxious, Zefrita only talks when they have enough conviction about something that she can articulate it clearly. So, it’s a pretty big deal if she says something important- it usually means that it is.

Meg and Skiflit

Skiflit (Skif) is a northern goshawk. I used this analysis to come up with his form, mostly because of the interpretations of loyalty, determination/being goal-driven, and assertiveness, which I all think fit with Meg- or at least, my version of Meg, who’s caring but a bit of a hothead.

Skif talks about as much as Meg does, which is quite a lot, especially in fireside arguments. He’s also the most likely to get physical with the other daemons, whether aggressively or for support/comfort.

Jake and Dancha

Dancha (Dawn) is a raccoon, which I just love for Jake for so many reasons and I was so happy that the form analysis worked out. It really boils down to what he said in the actual fic- they’re highly adaptable/resourceful, conflict-avoidant, and independent animals. Their also curious but in a killed-the-cat sort of way, which seems true to Jake’s character to me.

Dawn tends to let Jake do most of the talking, and really only interacts with the original four survivors daemons, sometimes including Nea and Laurie’s daes if she feels up to it. She and Jake are pretty slow to trust, and even though they feel perfectly comfortable around all the survivors (though they clash with Ace) Dawn keeps her interactions to a minimum to stay in her comfort zone. They don’t have much of any comfort left, after all.

Claudette and Laefertes

Laefertes (Laef) is a barn owl, and I actually think I named him after Laertes from Hamlet for some reason? I think I just had the name stuck in my head, no significance to it. The two traits that really stuck out to me for his form were barn owls having a surprising amount of foresight in caching their extra food and their egg care habits, and the analysis I read also listed owls as being very perceptive, for obvious reasons, which fits well with Claudette’s Empathy (perk and trait) to me.

Claudette and Laef are kind of the greeters of the group, so when someone new shows up at the campfire they do all the explaining and “welcome to a Bad Time” talk. Claudette tends to say more comforting things than hard truths, and Laef compliments her by being the opposite- almost anything out of his mouth is what needs to be said, not necessarily what people want to hear.

Nea and Bayonai

Bayonai (Bayo) is a Siamese cat and listen I have a lot of reasons for it. He’s a cat for obvious reasons- Baker literally describes Nea as catlike in the journal entry- as well as cats being generally friendly, but independent for the most part. Siamese cats in particular are known for being loud attention seekers like no other, and we know that Nea was the epitome of Rebellious Teen (tm) in her day. They also tend to be curious (again, in a killed-the-cat sort of way).

Bayo is my favorite daemon of the bunch, probably because I started writing him first. He and Nea are less counterparts of one another than they are the same person divided into two parts. Bayo has a little more of their caution, but he’s like the friend who is saying “this is a terrible idea, oh my god” while filming it. They have street smarts more than school smarts, but Bayo has a little bit of an edge on Nea when it comes to critical thinking.

Laurie and Aurelio

Aurelio (Ori, which accidentally means they’re Laurie and Ori) is a European robin. His name comes from the Latin word for golden. His form was really hard to find, mostly because the original survivors have just a few canon character traits, whereas Laurie Strode has a whole franchise worth of characterization to sort through. I ended up just using Halloween I and II for my form finding. I used this analysis for Aurelio and I don’t have much to say about it, other than I was relieved to finally find a form that fit.

Aurelio and Laurie are Survivors (tm) in the truest sense of the word, so in my ‘verse they’re kind of dry and cynical. Aurelio tends not to talk very much, and when he does he often says things that are too dark for the conversation he’s contributing to, and is reprimanded by Laurie. They had a perfectly normal human-daemon bond before Myers, but it changed after, and they were never the same.

Ace and Kesina

Kesina (Kess or occasionally Kesi) is an American bullfrog. She’s the only reptile form among the survivors. I’m honestly not even going to say anything else about her form, just link to the analysis because IMO it’s so Ace it hurts. Laid-back is the main trait that I like that I don’t see listed as a major point in the analysis, but frogs are chill as fuck.

Kesina says all the sarcastic and biting things that Ace doesn’t, but in a dismissively calm way that gets a rise out of whoever she’s said it to. Not that he wouldn’t, it’s just funnier if she calls Jake a dumbass in Argentine Spanish than if he does. She and Ace talk to each other almost exclusively in that dialect when they’re being snarky or sarcastic, even if they’re doing the “what do you want to have for dinner!?” routine, because no one can understand what they’re saying and it pisses everyone else off.

Bill and Portril

Portril (no nickname) is a summer tanager, a kind of smallish songbird. Frankly there’s not very much personality lore for Bill out there, even in what Left 4 Dead stuff I tried to dig up, so I went with my personal HC’s for him- grumpy and quiet but altruistic and perceptive old man. Here’s the analysis if anyone is actually reading this, but this is more for my own benefit let’s be real. There’s not a ton of real solid behavior for summer tanagers, but I liked what this person wrote so I went with it.

Bill is quiet and Portril is quieter. Bill contributes a few sentences to the conversation at the campfire every now and then, but the majority of the survivors have never heard Portril say a word.

Feng and Maeslin

Maeslin (Maes) is a numbat (google it), and tbh I should have picked a Chinese-sounding name for him, but I’m too attached to Feng having a daemon she calls Mace to change it. I’d never heard of a numbat before form finding for Feng, but I love how well the weird little things fit with her character. Numbats are specialized eaters and ONLY eat termites. They have to eat 20,000 of the things a day to stay alive. What I get out of that is that the are specialized/single-focus type people, like Feng and her gaming, and work really fucking hard to be good/keep at it.

I haven’t done a lot of thinking about Maes’ personality. I think he and Feng are a Chaotic Neutral disaster duo. He’s a very mobile daemon and tends to climb all over Feng, never staying in one place for too long- it’s a habit he learned very quickly to not bring into trials.

David and Ezriana

Ezriana (Ez) is a magnificent frigatebird and it’s SUCH a shame that she’s not male, because the main reason I picked that form for David is because of the absolute pompous showoffs that male frigatebirds are with that throat pouch of theirs. Frigatebirds are also known for being opportunistically aggressive and basically getting into fights with other species of coastal birds to steal their catches. There’s some more, non-fighty traits that made me decide on frigatebird for Ezriana, but those are really the two main reasons I picked it.

Ezriana is kinda the “kick his ass baby I got yo flower” of the pair, and she always tends to kind of stay out of the thick of it, circling overhead and yelling out insults and encouragement. Her actual personality is pretty laid back when not in conflict mode, and she’s pretty good for conversation around the campfire. Her way of talking is a little more... coherent.. than David, who’s excitable and can get a little carried away.

Quentin and Nynta

Nynta (Nyn, pronounced Nihn) is an earwig. Earwigs are tough little insects and are very adaptable and actually protect their eggs and then care for their young, showing a lot of duty and dedication. I think that fits with what I managed to gather of Quentin’s role in NoES 2010, which I haven’t actually watched. Additionally, fitting into the daemonverse, earwigs are very small, and Quentin keeps Nynta in a lanyard, so that Freddy and no one else has any possible access to touching her.

Nynta never talks, period. No one knows what her and Quentin’s relationship is like, taking into consideration Laurie and Aurelio’s slightly trauma-damaged bond, but everyone knows that Nynta probably doesn’t trust anyone. They’ve never seen her outside of her clear plastic lanyard, which locks from the inside with a one digit combination that only Nynta can open. I imagine she probably settled during the events of NoES 2010.

Tapp and Soliel

Soliel (Sol) is a Florida scrub jay. Scrub jays are committed birds, both to their mates and their territory, and keen and clever observers of what happens in their area and to their things (food caches and stuff). These to me seem like good traits to match a detective’s personality. These birds are also highly specialized to their environment, though, and are unadaptable- that combination of traits makes sense, because Tapp became borderline obsessed with the Saw case in his lore.

Soliel is as focused as her human is, and accepts facts and information readily. Being older than most of the others, she tends not to talk too much unless they’re having an interesting discussion, rather than a time-killing or social conversation.

Kate and Torelian

Torelian (Tori) is a fennec fox. Fennec foxes are super extroverted and sociable animals, and tough critters that are well adapted for going long periods of time without commodities, but not without other people around them. Kate traveled a lot for her music career, but she seems to me like a caring and outgoing person that really connected with her fans. He also matches her aesthetic, and is a cute/attractive form- perfect for a performer’s daemon.

Torelian is as much of a performer as Kate. He can’t play and instrument, but they can sing duets and are, of course, completely in sync at all times. It’s great for cheering up the campfire after rough trials and moments of (extra) hopelessness. He’s a good ear to talk to and offers wholesome advice.

Adam and Samia

Samia (no nickname) is a northern cardinal. I chose the form this morning and frankly I’m tired of resummarizing bird analyses at this point, so here ya go.

I’ve done no character exploration for Samia yet, might edit this when/if I come up with some more for her. Most of the daemons outside the first five or six I’ve done more developing here than otherwise, so we’ll see!

If you got this far you’re my new favorite human, and thank you for listening to my impassioned rambling about my two current hyperfixations mashed into one <3

[spacebrick3]

WHG - Kjiersten’s Victory

Alright, so I felt I should make something to describe Kjiersten’s victory in the Writeblr Hunger Games; (I can’t do any of the other days really since this turned out to be like 3k words already and I do need to actually get other stuff done haha)

 It’s going along with the rebellion/conspiracy started by @ratracechronicler and @concealeddarkness13 - also, @writer-denois and @owlsofstarlight your characters Ra’ae and Maldl showed up as the only other two in the final days of the Games.

I should have an ‘after-the-games’ post made for Kjiersten as well sometime, but here’s my take on how the Games ended;

Day 19:

Kjiersten stood at the edge of the forest, thinking. All three of the tributes had managed to get together the night before, but with the Capitol clearly listening in, there had been no way to discuss how they would get out. It had been an awkward conversation, then, none of them able to say what was on their minds, but there had been some interesting topics brought up, and they had been able to learn a bit more. Like the fact that Maldl had once served in a communication outpost left over from the days before Panem, handling the wires there.

They glanced over at the trees. It seemed like a nice day for some whittling.

Grabbing a vaguely straight tree branch, they hiked back into the forest, around where they knew the other two tributes had been last night. They were both District 11, so they’d likely stick together. Then, making sure he was close enough to the clearing that the tributes would be able to hear them, they started scraping at the edge of the branch with their knife.

Scrape. Scrrrrrrrape. Scrape. Scrape. Pause. Scrape. Scrape. Scrape. Pause. Scrrrrrrrape. Pause. Scrrrrrrrape. Scrape. They kept methodically slicing at the edge of the bark, making as much noise as possible, until they were almost sure they had to have attracted the attention of at least one of them. Then they repeated their small statement, making sure that Maldl would be able to understand it:

Lstn. Msg. Rply w 1 arw e.

They were sitting about to the southeast of the clearing. Ra’ae had been carrying a massive longbow the day before, and Kjiersten waited for about five minutes before a long, black-shafted arrow came whistling through the trees a few meters away from them, directly east. They had their attention. Again they turned their attention to the branch, clearing another section of bark to get the next message across:

hg nds. tdy o tmrw. o Cp wl snd smthg. Y? N?

Another few minutes passed, presumably while the two of them translated the message. Then came the sound of an axe chopping at wood, five strokes delivered quick, then the same five to repeated the message.

Chop. Chop. Chop. Chop. Pause. Chop.

SN. Understood. Maldl and Ra’ae were agreeing, and also implicitly stating that they would follow their lead on this. Kjiersten mulled for a second about how the other two could fake their deaths. It would be the best course of action, especially since the Capitol had always been suspicious of their leadership of the Connection Project. Losing the Games would mean losing that - at least in the open - and that couldn’t happen. And besides, he thought a little ruefully, it would be nice to win the Games, at least in practice if not theory.

R, they finally sent. expls at nw cnr. st off nd rmv trckr. hc pk. QSL? (Do you acknowledge?)

QSL, came the reply. Acknowledged. Ra’ae was going to go find the explosive Kjiersten had rigged up back - was it two weeks ago now? The Games were really starting to blur their perception of time. Ra’ae would set it off from a distance, with any projectile he could find, then rip his tracker out. The others - Tom and Kallias especially, although they guessed a majority of the mentors might be in on it by now - would come collect them then, and most of the Capitol would be none the wiser.

What about Maldl, though? Both of District 11 dying together, especially after having been alive so long, would be suspicious. And if they died simply setting off a trap, the Gamemakers would be even more incensed. Best to let things go out with a bang, then.

M. Tmrw. Hr. Fht s Cp wnt spct ayt. Fg ot wo srv thr. QSL?

More silence, and they worried that they’d omitted too many letters in the interest of speed. But finally the reply came back QSL, and they sighed in relief. Tomorrow morning, they and Maldl would meet back here for a fight, and they’d decide then who would win and who would fake their death. But until then, there was nothing to do but kill a few hours until the next day, although hopefully not literal killing.

What to do until then? They looked down at the now mostly-shaved stick in their hand, and shrugged. Why not whittling?

Night 19:

The anthem had just finished playing. They had managed to get to a hill overlooking the northwest part of the forest, and looked up just in time to see a blinding flash of light illuminate the edge of the dark mass of trees. Flaming debris lit a few of nearby trees ablaze, and they burned with bright yellow light. Smoke billowed into the air.

Even though they knew it was fake, they couldn’t help but wince. That was a much bigger explosion than they had expected, and they hoped Ra’ae had known more about the explosives than they had and had been able to get out of the way in time. But they couldn’t know, not until after the Games ended. Even as they still stared down at the conflagration, a pitch-black Capitol hovercraft descended through the smoke and fire to retrieve him. It hovered only a second over the edge of the flames before launching itself back into the sky.

Kjiersten watched it go until it was only a speck in the sky. They hoped desperately that Ra’ae was alright, and that they hadn’t just witnessed a sacrifice like Val had performed the Games before in order to make Dean’s win believable. Something like that shouldn’t have to happen here. Everyone else had been able to get out fine - Veth, Kaine, Erya, Kallias - they’d watched them all get rescued, picked up in nondescript hovercraft and taken to the safe house. Sadie too, although they were sure there’d be no shortage of teasing about the fall that had allowed her to rip her tracker out. Especially since they themselves had managed to get up the trees several times to rest.

Tomorrow was coming fast and with it, the end of the Games, one way or another.

Day 20:

It was time. Early this morning, they had hiked back down from their hill and back to the clearing, trying to decide which weapon would be best for a theatrical fight. They found a mace they didn’t remember picking up or even carrying around, as well as a few different knives and one Molotov cocktail, but no matches. Barring anything else, the mace would probably be best to give the Capitol a show. At the very least, it looked interesting. They shuddered at the thought of having to actually use it, though, and hoped Maldl had either a way to convincingly fake his or their death.

Maldl had gotten there before them, and stood, bored, leaning on a massive longsword. They were taken aback slightly - where had he managed to hide that when the three of them had been talking? - but recovered, trying to adopt the same casual position with the ‘mace-over-the-shoulder-“ look. Since that nearly overbalanced them and made them fall over, they decided against it.

“So!” he called, voice echoing. “This is where it ends. Right here, right now!”

Typical theatre. The Capitol would be eating it up. “Unless you want to keep chasing each other back and forth. There’s just the two of us now. No point in dragging it any further!” they shouted back.

“Well then, who’s it going to be? Me or you?” he shouted again, raising the sword and charging. Kjiersten managed to drag the mace of the ground and block his stroke, the longsword locking against the head of the mace. “So what’s our plan?” Maldl hissed against the rasp of steel on steel.

“One of us has to fake dying!” they whispered back, pulling the mace away and stumbling back. He spun the sword in his hands, an impressively agile move for a five-foot-long blade, then spun an underhand stroke at them, which they were only barely able to block.

“Again, me or you?”

“I don’t know! Are you a good actor?”

He grinned. “The best.” Then he twisted his sword, wrenching the mace up and out of Kjiersten’s hands. Dimly, they heard it clatter to the ground behind them. “At acting, that is.”

“What?” they asked, taking a nervous step back. “No - no, you’re not doing this.”

“I am,” he said, his face changing from his amiable smile into something harder. “But you’d know about it, wouldn’t you?”

“What are you talking about?” they asked desperately. “Please - I just want to help everybody get out of here alive? Why are you trying to stop that?”

“Get everybody out alive?” he asked mockingly. “You tell that to Ra’ae too, before you killed him?”

“I-“

“You modified that explosive last night! Gave it a bigger radius and everything! I watched him die, Kjiersten! He thought he was safe and then you killed him!”

They felt their blood run cold. So their suspicions last night had been correct. The blast radius of the mines had been changed to be larger than usual, probably by some sadistic or ‘tech-savvy’ sponsor. They hadn’t known, even though probably even a cursory inspection could have revealed it. And now Ra’ae was dead because of it. Actually dead, not all this Games faking-your-death stunts they’d been trying to arrange. “Why?” they whispered to themselves. “Why did this have to happen?” they asked again, louder this time. Falling to their knees, they stared at the ground as if it could hold the answers now.

“He was my friend!” Maldl shouted. “So now I’m just paying you back! You thought you were safe here, and now you’re going to die! Sound familiar?” As he shouted, he spun the sword again, then brought it down in a sweeping arc. Silver flashed bright in the morning sun as the blade whistled through the air.

Just before it hit, Kjiersten looked up at it. Time seemed to slow, and they realized something. Even though it felt like a part of them had been ripped out at the news of Ra’ae’s death, they hadn’t done it. They hadn’t made the mine or even modified it. Maybe they were complicit, but they were not at fault. Maldl was wrong.And despite everything, they still didn’t want to die.

With a cry of despair, they dove out of the way. A tearing pain split their left side as the sword came down, but they managed to get far enough that they could claw their way back up to a standing position. “Not ready to die quite yet?” Maldl asked, venom in his words. “That’s alright. Ra’ae wasn’t either.”

“I didn’t do it!” they managed to choke out. “Can’t you understand? I wasn’t the one who modified that mine!”

“Sure. Tell that to Ra’ae.”

“Damn it, Maldl, I’m trying to help you!” they shouted, wincing as the pain in their side flared again. Pressing a hand to it, they found it sticky with blood. “We can still both make it!”

He lowered the sword for a second, eyes blazing with anger. “One of us is going to die here today. If the only way to live is to accept the help of a murderer, then I believe I will be happy to go down fighting.”

“Please! No matter who dies today, Ra’ae’s still going to be dead!” They stumbled over to where the mace lay. Suns of Thiorna, they didn’t want to fight. But they didn’t want to die either. And they had a terrible feeling that, in just a few minutes, those desires would enter direct conflict.

“Yes, he is,” he agreed. “But, personally, I have a feeling that it might be more than a little dishonorable to his memory to accept the help of his murderer.” He adopted a fighting stance, sword held out straight in front of him. “No more words. It ends here.”

“PLEASE!” Kjiersten shouted, but it didn’t do any good. Maldl charged. They managed to dive out of the way, raising the weapon defensively and listening to the shrieks of metal on metal. No theater this time. “I didn’t kill him! I had no idea the mines were changed! Just listen!”

“No. You broke your word to Ra’ae,” he said, swiping at their head and missing by just a few inches. “I’ve no reason to trust whatever you say.”

They raised the mace to fend off a particularly vicious swing. “Maldl. Please! I am begging you – just let us get out of here! Continue-“ Metal clashed on metal again as he slowly drove them back, their feet sliding uselessly on the ground. “-continue your vendetta later! But right now you’re just playing into the Capitol’s hands!”

“So were you!” he shouted. “Betraying Ra’ae with a trap! I’m sure the Gamemakers just loved that!”

“I didn’t do it! I didn’t kill him!” They knew it was useless, though. Maldl had seen Ra’ae die and blamed Kjiersten for it, and in all honesty it was an understandable reaction. If they had watched Sadie die – following orders from someone who had promised them safety – they suspected they’d react similarly. “Please, Maldl!”

He shook his head. “No,” he said, “I don’t think so.” Then he started to advance again, swinging the sword wildly in front of him.

They stumbled backwards, frantically looking for a way out. In a perfect world, they would have had the advantage here – Maldl was almost blind with rage now, and any experienced fighter would have been able to slip through his defense. The problem, of course, was that the world was not perfect and that they were far from an experienced fighter. Plus, they didn’t want to kill Maldl if it could be helped, but he appeared to have no such qualms.

So what could they do? Kjiersten was fairly sure almost the entire Capitol hovercraft fleet was under their control – if they could make it look like Maldl was dead, and remove the tracker somehow, then he could be picked up. But he was getting closer, sword still windmilling in front of him, and they were running out of places to go to.

Their gaze fell on their backpack, on the other side of the clearing, and something resembling a plan began to form. There were weapons there, weapons he wouldn’t know about. That could give them enough of an edge, at least for a few seconds, that it was possible they could overpower him and win the fight. It’d be hard to get around him, though, and-

You know what? they decided. Screw the worrying. Either I do it right or it’s not my problem anymore. And with those inspiring words, they grabbed the mace and threw it at him, whipping it through the air towards his head.

He flinched and ducked, which gave them the opening they needed to dive past him and start running. The backpack was close, and they had just managed to scoop it up when Maldl tackled them from behind. They crashed to the ground, managing to keep their grip on the backpack but screaming in pain as the fall seemed to rip open their side again. Somehow they managed to roll over, and found themselves looking up into a face contorted in rage.

“This is how it ends!” he shouted, levelling the sword.

“Maldl-“ they managed to gasp out. “Just – one – Ra’ae said something – for you – he talked to me-“

“Did he now?” he asked, putting a little less pressure on.

No.“Yes – he was talking to me – about you – and he said-“ While they were trying to think what a fictional Ra’ae would have said about Maldl, their other hand scrabbled in the backpack, looking for – where was it? – there.

“What did he say?!” he almost screamed at them, pressing the sword once more into their neck. “Tell me nowor you die!”

“He – he said-“ In one movement, they pulled their hand out of the backpack and threw what they had managed to grab at Maldl. The Molotov, though it wasn’t lit, was still a fragile glass bottle full of liquid. It shattered in a burst of glass shards and alcohol, sending him reeling back, almost dropping the sword as he clawed at his face.

They didn’t wait. Closing their fingers around one of the knives, they lunged at Maldl and buried it in his upper arm. He screamed in pain, but they still twisted the knife, burying it deeper until they saw a glint of gold and copper instead of the silver knife. A flick of the blade, and the small computer chip was out.

Maldl was still fighting, though, and he managed to backhand Kjiersten with the butt of the sword. They managed to stay upright, but it gave him the time he needed to clear the blood, glass, and alcohol from his face. If he had been murderous before, they thought distantly, now he was pushing the verge of madness. His eyes gleamed with a burning light through the mess of cuts and bruises, and his mouth was twisted into a snarl.

“Now-“ they started, but he cut them off. With an incoherent scream of rage, he threw himself towards Kjiersten, who only barely managed to dodge in time. They dropped the knife, leaving themselves with only the mace – a knife wouldn’t help against this kind of fighting. No more time to think as Maldl barreled towards him again, sword whistling in a deadly arc.

Think – what could they use? They weren’t more experienced fighters than Maldl, not even in his state of unthinking rage. So they had to be smarter. He had brute strength on his side, but he wasn’t using it as well as he could have. So how could they use that to their advantage?

The first thought that came to their mind was leverage. Their mace was heavier than his sword, and with the way he was swinging it…They waited for Maldl to take a particularly vicious swipe, bringing the sword in from the left. Then, gritting their teeth and knowing that there were about a hundred ways this could go wrong, they stepped betweenhim and the blade, using the mace and the weight of their body to twist the sword from his hands.

Maldl tried to step back and recover, but Kjiersten didn’t let him. This might be their only chance, and they didn’t want to let it slip away now. They wrenched the mace up and over and slammed it into his head. As they had brought it down, though, they had let their fingers slip down the handle to the point where only the handle, and not the spiked end, had slammed into his head. He was unconscious, cut and bloody, but he was alive. The Games were not going to claim another victim.

He looked terrible, though – crumpled on the ground, with his face covered in blood. His arm looked a mess, and they hoped they hadn’t damaged anything while they were trying to cut the tracker out. But it was necessary – Maldl had to both look dead and act dead, and they didn’t think he would have done either of those willingly.

After just a few minutes, a silvery-grey hovercraft descended from the sky. They knew they should get out of the way, but they had a question they needed to ask. The pilot, who they recognized as one of the mentors, emerged from the ship to pick up Maldl, and shook his head. “You should get out of here,” he said. “Dangerous for you to be seen too close.”

“Wait – please,” they said, raising their hands in a pleading gesture. “I just need to know – is Ra’ae really dead? Did that explosive really kill him?”

The pilot was silent for a second. “I don’t know,” he said. “It wasn’t one of ours which picked him up – it was a genuine Capitol hovercraft. How they got there before us, I don’t know. So Ra’ae might be alive, just in the Capitol’s custody. We’re thinking of mounting a mission to get inside – possibly with the help of your Connection Project – and seeing if we can find him. You’ll be updated as things happen.”

They nodded. “Thank you.” The pilot saluted, and turned back to the craft with Maldl’s limp form in tow. Kjiersten watched as the hovercraft lifted off again, engines rotating back to horizontal once the ship had cleared the trees.

It was over. They had won the Hunger Games. Almost all of the tributes from this Games had been rescued – a greater percentage than they’d ever managed before. They were people who would be able to build or continue their lives back home, or join the rebellion and help to build better lives for everybody.

It should have been an achievement. They should have felt proud – after all, winning the Games was almost the ultimate status symbol in Panem. But it felt like a hollow victory. It felt like they had failed the people they were supposed to be protecting.

Just one, he thought miserably. One tribute. One out of the six. Five others got rescued. That’s a pretty good percentage, isn’t it?

No. Because it’s one tribute who I failed. Who’s not going to get back to their family. Who’s not going to be able to live the life they could have had. And that’s the problem here. Rescuing tributes from the Games is just treating the symptoms. The Capitol needs to fall for any of this to be worth it.

But you did the best you could. You couldn’t have known that the explosive would have been modified.

I could have checked. Because there’s no room for ‘good enough’ in engineering and there’s no room for it here. I should have done better.

It’s too late now, isn’t it?

No .Because it wasn’t over yet. There was still the messy business of revolution to come, and they would need people to help, to protect those who were trying to make the world better. They’d been hesitant, before, about committing the resources of the Connection Project to the revolution. But the revolution would need it. And now they knew what the others had been through. How they’d suffered just to stay alive. And as they stood there, hovercraft long vanished into the clear blue sky, they promised themselves that nobody else – not a single person– would have to go through it again.

A note: Transcript of each of the messages in Day 19:

Kjiersten: Listen. Message. Reply [to acknowledge] with one arrow east. [arrow is shot east] Kjiersten: Hunger Games end. Today or tomorrow. Or the Capitol will send something. Yes or no? Maldl: Understood Kjiersten: Ra’ae. Explosive at the northwest corner [of the forest]. Set it off and remove your tracker. Hovercraft will pick you up. Do you acknowledge? Ra’ae: Acknowledged Kjiersten: Maldl. Tomorrow. Here. Fight so the Capitol won’t suspect anything. Figure out who survives there. Do you acknowledge? Maldl: Acknowledged.

[culturejunkies]

Asohka returns in Star Wars: The Clone Wars Trailer

By Kenshiro

The trailer for the final (for real this time) season of Star Wars: The Clone Wars dropped this morning, and here’s my thoughts on Asohka’s final mission with former master Anakin Skywalker.

ASOHKA TANO: MORE BELOVED THAN REY

First, let me say that there’s been no greater reward I’ve gotten from the over 15 year history of this great series, than by getting a character like Asohka Tano to exist.  She may very well be the single most fleshed out character that we’ve gotten in Star Wars history, mostly because she’s the creation of one man and one man only, Dave Filoni. There was no endless novelizations needed to flesh her out after a few movies.  No lore to establish with her background or her future. We saw it all on screen over the course of 5 season of Clone Wars, 2 seasons of Rebels and a surprise cameo in The Rise of Skywalker.

Asohka has grown in so many ways and an entire generation of kids have grown up with her.  She’s the type of character that I’m certain even the harsh critics of recent Star Wars would have a hard time hating on.  Saying she’s beloved would be a massive understatement.

So it’s bittersweet to once again  be forced to goodbye to her. It’s something we’ve had to do too many times, but who knows what will happen.  The powers-that-be seem to find ways to bring her back.

THE TIMELINE OF THE STORY

It’s a bit jarring to reconcile that a lot of the action will be taking place within the midst of what was happening in Revenge of The Sith. Clearly, Padme is very pregnant, definitively places the timeframe with that film. Anakin of course looks to be more aggressive here, and the Jedi themselves are scrambling to uncover a plot to destroy them.  A sentiment Mace Windu said in Revenge of The Sith.  Could the series be acting as a means to expound upon that film to fill in plot holes?  Maybe?  Could it muddy up the story a bit more? Definitely.  We’ll see what happens there.

Darth Maul….AGAIN?!

Look, he’s a cool villain and all, but this is ridiculous.  The Star Wars creators can’t seem to get anyway from him, and that’s pretty sad.  To have him in the shadows of all thats going on, when according to this timeframe, they were still chasing down General Grievous (Dooku should be dead by the time this series starts), as well as dealing with Palpatine’s machinations.  I guess they needed someone to mix it up with…by why did it have to be him again?

Either way, its hard to say I’m not looking forward to this collection of episodes to close the book on The Clone Wars saga.  It’ll be out this February so its only a short few weeks away!  What were your big takeaways from the trailer? Please leave us a comment below!

[the-ghost-writers]

The Old Road Pt.2

A SFW of Dismas and Reynauld setting the path for others to follow while the two find they’re beginning to enjoy working with their unlikely companion.

The story is for @hotmilky and follows (roughly) their ideas.

The story will be given in chapters of various lengths.

All characters are from Darkest Dungeon and belong to Red Hook Studios.

“Hey, tin can.” Despite the words, Dismas speaks without joy. His tone is deadly serious as he walks behind the crusader taking point. “Remember what I said about there being no monsters of the dark? Yeah, I take that back.” He runs his finger along the trigger of his flintlock. His eyes are always scanning the dark corners of the ruins, looking for the stark white of bone to betray a skeleton’s hiding. While he doesn’t find an enemy, he still finds danger. Flipping his dagger around, he grabs at the crusader’s shoulder. “Hold up, there’s a trap.” He steps in front of the knight, kneeling as he looks over the holes in the ground.

Reynauld turns around to look at the others. Right before their journey had begun the caretaker reined in the stagecoach with two others enlisted for the task. Like himself, a vestal was sent by the church to help against the acclaimed dark forces. She, Junia, was smaller than him. While he was trained to fight she was trained to heal, leaving her spending her time pouring over the holy verses instead of getting herself stronger. Despite this she was clearly stronger than the average citizen, toting around a massive chest piece and mace. If his memory serves him, she hasn’t smiled once since she’s arrived.

Their fourth companion is a woman as well, but that is where their similarities end. Paracelsus is a woman of science, an achievement she was disappointed didn’t impress. Every inch of her skin is covered in dense layers of cloth, even her face hidden by a plague doctor mask to suit her title. She tends to speak little and always has a hand on her satchel, clearly something of worth in it.

“Ya blockin the light.”

Reynauld looks over his shoulder to find Dismas still hunched over the trap. Stepping aside he moves his shadow off the man so he can work. Looking back up to the others the crusader is filled with the sudden urge to speak. “These things are something we did not know were real. For some time the church has known of those who pursue the secrets of the occult, but this is something else.” He looks to Junia to see her nod in support. “These skeletons and cultist are something bigger, I just know it. But no matter their plans we can not let them be. We must rid this world of their filth and we will. Stand tall and may the Light be with you.”

The vestal repeats that last phrase and even carries herself higher. But with the plague doctor not reacting and the highwayman behind him snorting it becomes evident they did not care for his speech. There’s a terrible screech of stone against iron as the trap activates. Dismas stands up with a smirk, hidden but still present. “Nice pep talk, but maybe we oughta get something across first.” Stepping up to Reynauld’s side he shoves his left hand into his coat. “We neva traded names. I’m Dismas.” His right hand sticks out to hang in the air void of the dagger typically in it.

The knight shifts his sword to his left and shakes the hand. “Reynauld.” He looks behind Dismas to check out the hallway they’ve yet to explore. When he’s sure that it’s clear, he turns to address the entirety of the party. “We should press on. These creatures seem to grow in numbers and strength when they’re under the shroud of darkness, we can not afford to linger and let our light dwindle.”

Laughter is an odd sound considering their setting yet Reynauld has been hearing much of it from their highwayman. Dismas nudges the knight as he starts walking again. “Coulda just said ta get goin.”

Reynauld walks past him to retake the lead, this time bearing the torch so he can carve a path through the black. The four hold their breath as they reach the end of the hall and meet a door again. Reynauld slowly opens it, and relief comes when the room is empty of people, instead they only thing in the chamber is a large sarcophagus. The party enters the room, all of them taking a moment to rest despite their crusader’s words to move on. None would rush to face such horrors of this place.

Dismas makes his way to the sarcophagus and takes a shovel from his pack to start prying off the lid. He gets it only a few inches away before the shovel is yanked out of his grip from behind. He looks to see Reynauld behind him, the shovel held high and away in his grip. The knight sure sounds peeved as he fails to hide his anger. “Do not disgrace the dead with your thievery.”

The highwayman rolls his eyes, now shoving his shoulder against the partially opened sarcophagus. “I ain’t a thief.”  When the lid is halfway open, he stops pushing, putting his left hand in his pocket as he grabs his dagger. “And as fa disgracing the dead, I got over that tha moment one swung a fuckin sword as me.” He flings his blade out to catch the knight by surprise. Stepping back Reynauld raises his arms in instinctive defense. When he puts them down, he catches the weird look Dismas gives him. THe highwayman wasn’t going for him, his weapon instead dug deep into the head of the skeleton in the sarcophagus. With a twist of his wrist and the blade following after, the skull cracks into two pieces. Pulling back his blade he wipes it on his pants, something more out of habit than necessity as a skeleton has no blood to wipe off. He never takes his eyes off the knight, letting it be clear on his face he doesn’t appreciate the holy man’s lack of trust. “I don’t wanna be caught off guard by this thing jumpin out at us.” He lowers his voice while the malice in it grows. “And don’t ya go about pointing your holy finger at me claiming I'm a thief. You’re in no position to talk, sticky fingers.” Pushing off the sarcophagus he walks over to the plague doctor to leave Reynauld to his own thoughts.

The two don’t share a word for the rest of their journey. It’s near impressive how they both stay silent in the midst of their battles, even if it’s only with two more groups of skeletons. In their travels back to Hamlet the sound of foot falls and restless scribbling is the only real sound. Reynauld stops, allowing the others to walk past him until he’s beside Paracelsus as writes down her findings. Before he speaks Reynauld looks into the doctor’s journal, the thing a mess of smudged drawings and her rushed handwriting. “You are a scholar?”

She doesn’t respond at first as she wants to write down her thoughts before she loses it. She forced to stop when she reaches the end of her journal, something she apparently didn’t expect to happen. “Should’ve brought an extra…” The beak of the mask dips before suddenly flying up as she looks at the crusader. “Yes?”

Reynauld looks at her, trying hard to look past the goggles on that mask. When it ends in failure, he merely repeats himself, although he already has his answer question. “You are a scholar.”

“Yes.” She nods, the action near comical because of that beak. When the knight doesn’t say anything, she carries on. “I studied the human body and the various sicknesses that affect it.”

“I assume you are certified?” Seeing as how she gave him something to stop his wounds from bleeding, he most certainly hope she is.

“I should be but I was removed from the academy for unlawful research.” Reynauld rolls his arm as the bandages wrapped around it no longer gives him comfort. Before he can speak Paracelsus cuts him off with a raised hand. “But alongside human anatomy, I also ventured into human behavior. And the reason you’re talking to me is that I'm furthest from the front where Dismas is and you’re avoiding interaction with him. You would speak to Junia but she would bring up the highwayman’s behavior and you’re trying to prevent any mention of him because you are aware that you’re in the wrong with your accusations against him, even if you won’t admit it to yourself.” She lowers her hand once she finishes up. Even with her mask on, he can tell she holds no emotion on her face.

“Are you not about to tell me to go and absolve for my sins?”

He can practically feel her eyes roll. “No. Your actions are your own and my words won’t sway what you do. But if anything do not pray to your god to forgive you but right the wrongs you’ve done to your fellow man.” Her voice sounds tired, the most emotion she’s used all day. The knight’s armor gives away that he’s looking up at Dismas in the front. “But,” The plague doctor grabs his attention again, the feeling one way as she’s opened her journal again. “Seeing as you’ve listened to me without disagreement, you’ve known that this entire time.” And just like that, she’s back to pouring over her notes and ignoring the crusader as they keep marching.

With a clear end to the conversation, Reynauld speeds up to go back to the front. He’s stopped by a mace gently tapping his chest piece. Junia turns her head to him, nodding slowly as she speaks. “While the doctor is right, I would still suggest praying for absolution. It can never hurt.”

She let him go and like Paracelsus, she reads her own book. Although this one full of scriptures instead of sketches. Reynauld comes back to the front walks alongside Dismas. “I apologize for what I said before, I jumped to conclusions.”

“Stuff it.” He doesn’t even look at the other man, just keeps walking with his left hand in his coat pocket. “Sorry don’t mean much, not really. Ya said very clearly what ya think of me, don’t go around thinkin I’m forgettin that.”

The crusader closes his eyes, taking deep breaths to calm himself. There’s no point in making this whole thing worse. “What if I pay for a round of wine for you?”

THe highwayman doesn’t say anything on the matter as he keeps walking. Reynauld follows his eyes and sees that Hamlet is quickly approaching. Dismas raises his right hand to start counting off. “First; rum, not wine. Second; two rounds. Third; get ya weapon out a my face.” His armor clinks together as the knight leans away in mild confusion. The smaller man finally looks at him and jerks his head the sword resting on the knight’s shoulder. “Ya got your weapon between us. I find it real hard to like a man who can’t trust me.”

Despite his better judgment, he goes on the defensive. “You say this but you’ve been holding your flintlock this entire time.” Dismas stays quiet for a second.

He stops at the entrance of the town, his eyes watching as the other two of their party goes off to rest. When they’re alone, those eyes coming back to land on him. Suddenly, that helmet of his seems all too small. Dismas makes his actions clear as he takes his left hand out of his pocket, lifting a coin between them. He returns it to his pocket and uses his right to pull his coat back, revealing his pistol hanging from his hip. He lets the coat fall back into place and waits on the knight to try and defend himself.

Reynauld shifts the sword to the other shoulder and raises his now free hand. “Three rounds.”

[arielsojourner]

Vader Strikes Back - Prologue/Thoughts

So I should be working on my sequel to the tumblr posts of Luke and Vader saving the Galaxy that became the actual fic Back from the Future and I thought I had it all planned out. I was going to draft a fic about 11-12 year old Luke and Leia Skywalker having some summer adventure, meeting up with some of the Original Trilogy characters with different life stories living in this Brave New Future that Luke and Vader created. I had thought out some conflict points, was working on getting my characters in my heads, playing logic games about what and how people would be different in this new present when another idea hit me.

What if it wasn’t Vader that died killing off Palpatine when he and Luke faced him down with Fives, Chatterbox, and Hardcase? What if it had been Luke who died? 

Sometimes I hate my brain.

Now I should be working on my Luke and Leia story (tentatively titled “Rogue Twins: a Skywalker Story” -- I know, I know, I am silly in naming my fics) but I cannot get it out of my head.

What would Vader do if Luke had died? And all I can think of is from Mace Windu’s perspective. (And I barely have any idea on how to write from his POV, his voice and character elude me!) But that is what I see. Mace trying to figure out what happened: the rogue Jedi Luke is dead killing Palpatine, but the Sith, he is still alive and the clones are hiding him/covering for him. No one knows where he is but there is a pile of suspicious bodies turning up and they are all turning out to be co conspirators of Palpatine. And Mace is trying to find him and following behind the destruction in Vader’s wake and he talks to everyone, one after another, always ten steps behind Vader.

Because Vader falls into a Pit of Despair. He has failed AGAIN. Oh, Padme has lived. He has twins-- no, Anakin has twins, Vader has nothing. He lives but his son is gone. His daughter was never his to begin with. His Padme is dead. The galaxy is in shambles and he is alone.

And the image won’t leave me alone when I should be working on the sequel, the domestic adorable sequel. Instead all my mind and my muse keeps giving me is angst. ANGST! 

I see the 501st rallying around Vader. Luke’s students trying to do what Luke would have wanted them to do, protect and help support Luke’s father. Rex would finally distract Vader by doing what worked best for Luke: point Vader and his mountain of rage at an appropriate target and let Vader be. And so Rex reminds Vader of his plans for Tatooine and let us just say the campaign is bloody. It is shock and awe. It is brutal. It is what Vader was known for after 20 years of serving an Empire than never existed. The clones didn’t realize how much Luke tempered his father and so they try and fill the void as best they can in Luke’s honor.

I see the clones in general decide that Vader is adopted as one of them. That is what Luke would have wanted. When the Jedi Order comes calling, they don’t say anything. “Vader? Vader, who? Sith, you say? No, can’t say we’ve seen any Sith, General Windu. Not since the war ended. Perhaps if you provide a description?” And Mace will just give them the Eye, like really? A description? They guy’s image is plastered all over the holonet and you need me to give you a description. But no, the clones will not be helping the Order find Vader. Hells, they even try to warn him off. (99 would totally gently tell Mace off).

And the Council wants to find him. In unraveling Sith treachery and they have gotten it into their heads that that means hunting down the one wild card left-- Vader. 

Obi-Wan isn’t interested in their Sith hunt at all. First of all he is helping Anakin and Padme and then he is on Mandalore and he is just done with all this shit, y’know? Anakin has severe PTSD (his son from the future is dead at the hands of his mentor, his Sith self is out and about in the galaxy with his men killing people) and Padme is not doing much better. Second, Obi-Wan in this story having actually watched the holonet vid of Palpatine’s and Luke’s death recognizes Anakin’s fighting style a light year away (he trained the boy for over a decade, he is not blind) and he knows who Vader is and what he must have lost. He cannot kill Anakin, any Anakin past, present or alternate future.  He won’t do it. Not when Vader helped defeat Palpatine. He will not help the Council find Vader now when all Vader seems to be doing is taking out the last of Palpatine’s puppets with extreme prejudice. 

But that doesn’t mean Obi-Wan doesn’t watch the news fearful of the day Vader crosses over the line. Because if he does, then someone will have to go after him and Obi-Wan fears that day and fears what the Order/the Force/Anakin/his own conscious may ask him to do. 

So Obi-Wan doesn’t tell Mace anything, even when the man comes to Mandalore to talk to him and to Ventress trying to find out what Vader is up to. Obi-Wan doesn’t tell Mace who Vader really is/was. 

And Ventress would laugh in Mace’s face. Outright laugh at the idea of Mace hunting down Vader and taking him out. She doesn’t mince words. Mace is a dead man if he challenges Vader. And Mace would be all “How do I know you’re not working with him, his apprentice? How do I know the Separatists haven’t just found a new leader and war is still going on and you are about to attack the Republic at its most weakest?”

And Satine is having none of this, you hear? There is PEACE. Luke insisted the war is OVER and his name and in his memory that is what they are going to have. She isn’t having anyone or anything jeopardize that even if it means going toe to toe with Windu and the Order. She throws him off the planet. He protests, Mace looks to Obi-Wan to support him or to leave with him. Hells, Mace looks to Vos to back him and his Council mandate up and both men are like, “No, no. We’re just fine. We’re staying right here. The Duchess said YOU have to leave. We are here to see the Reconstruction Accords signed, thank you very much.” 

Mace then goes to Serrano. That doesn’t work much better than confronting Ventress. Vader isn’t there and Dooku makes it clear he has given his parole to Luke and he hasn’t broken it so there is nothing the Council can do to him. Dooku also points out Mace would be well served staying very very far away from Vader if he wants to continue breathing.

Mace doesn’t listen. He keep searching. He finally tracks down Senator Amidala (he is stonewalled and sent on wild goose chases for weeks by her aides and her friends and even Ahsoka!)

Ahsoka isn’t going to help. At first she thinks Vader has lost it without Luke by his side and is too dangerous to be left to his own devices, but then Tarkin shows up in pieces and other evidence surfaces of those willing to help back Palpatine and then news of Tatooine reaches the holonet and Ahsoka sees how it affects Anakin. She looks down at the twins in their crib and recognizes the rogue Jedi in the little baby boy asleep next to his sister. Nope, if she follows after Vader it will be to help him as Rex and the others clearly are, not to kill him for the Order. And since when did Jedi become assassins? Luke would definitely have something to say about all that!

The Noghri take Mace unawares when he tries to enter Padme and Anakin’s home one night. They decide not to wake the family and only bother to tell Padme of the intruder after breakfast the next morning. Padme insists she can handle it so Ahsoka and Anakin take the babies off on a picnic and Padme sits down to a reluctant meeting with Windu. 

I don’t know where this story goes from here. I don’t know WHY I seem to have this in my head only from Mace’s perspective. I have always found him very very hard to write without dissolving into simply inappropriate “bashing” of a character. (The only one harder for me is Clone Wars/Prequel Obi-Wan, that man is like the Hamlet of the Star Wars universe). I don’t know why I can’t write this from Vader’s perspective. I don’t know why I can’t focus to write my true sequel with the Skywalker twins.

But I have this scene in my head of Windu facing Vader at some point in time. Perhaps Depa and her Padawan are with him. Perhaps some of Mace’s men are with him too (not sure how that works logically). Perhaps he has convinced them that he just wants to talk to Vader but it turns nasty and violent and Windu expects his troopers to help subdue Vader but Vader has the 501st with him and the troopers aren’t down with that, they aren’t down with that at all and there is a hell of a fight. (Or maybe that is too dramatic and silly and out of character but damn it, it is in my head).  

Windu loses the fight and would have lost his head the way Dooku did in Episode III except something stays Vader’s blade.  Some sense of something, or someone stops him. And then . . .

I don’t know. I just can’t seem to stop thinking about this alternate storyline but I am not sure any of it makes any logical sense. So the question is do I go down this rabbit hole and follow Vader alone without Luke wherever that story goes or do I refocus on my sequel?

Decisions. Decisions.