#narn TI

[outofangband]

Reposted some headcanons recently on Húrin and Aerin so I wanted to repost some Morwen ones with some added ones too!

I have a post with some clothing/fashion HCs here!

-She has freckles on her back and shoulders and as a child had a couple on her face though these faded by the time she was a teenager.

-Her hair is thick and incredibly unruly if not maintained and post Nírnaeth she keeps it much shorter and tied back in a simple braid, not having the time, energy or resources to really care for it.

-Pre Nírnaeth she tends to sleep with it tied back

-She has a birthmark on one ear, a sort of small dark splotch

-Morwen often has very stiff, rigid posture that looks uncomfortable to other people but does not bother her.

-She is taller than both Húrin and Aerin but shorter than Huor. On that note, Aerin is a couple centimeters (about an inch) taller than Húrin, one of the last of his generation to grow taller than him.

-She has dark eyes; I headcanon that Túrin’s grey eyes are from Húrin’s side. I could see her as potentially having dark grey eyes but in general to me she has dark brown eyes.

I have also considered her having eyes of different colors, one dark grey and one dark brown. I enjoy seriously playing with and elaborating on the motifs of eyesight, obscurity and similar in the Narn

-She wears a lot of cloaks, shawls and scarves, usually in dark colors

-She has scars from the Bragollach on her sides and parts of her back though one is incredibly unlikely to actually see these.

-Post Nírnaeth she accumulates a variety of smaller scars, mostly on her hands, from the work required to try and maintain the house.

-Morwen walks quietly, quickly and purposefully. She is the kind of person who often ends up startling others because they never heard her enter the room and then suddenly she’s there.

[horriblebogswamp]

Londo Mollari is a great character partly because he’s the embodiment of a certain psychological artifact in the American liberal brain. He clings to the romance of the former empire, lamenting the decline of the Centauri into to a bunch of blustery old fools in military costume while merchants cheapen its “glorious” history, “The Great Centauri Republic, open 9-5. Earth time.” Until close to the end, he almost never updates his thinking about anything unless prompted and incentivized via his emotions, like with Adira or even the destruction of the Narn homeworld. He feels his reputation and worth are inextricably tied with the empire’s, and seems to cynically leverage this against himself to rationalize his own decadence, though this is unstated.

When I see Democrats being psychotically pro-Israel, or talking about how America used to be the “good guys” or Sorkin’s horseshit about “thank god the Americans are here,” I think of Londo

[serregon]

hm narn hair headcanons

Túrin: raven black, thick and curly in texture. wears his hair partially tied back to make his round human ears visible. very pretty, when he actually takes care of his hair. out in the fields his hair is a tangled mess. he runs his hands through his hair when he’s stressed, leading to a lot of breakage. but like it makes him more handsome in a wildman of the woods sort of way. of course, he can clean up nicely when he wants. Beleg braids flowers and wooden beads into his hair. he doesn’t like it when people touch his hair, so it’s a major sign of trust to let Beleg braid his hair.

Beleg: a light silvery gray, silky and slightly wavy in texture. being an archer, his hair is almost always tied up in some way to keep it out of the way. his go-to is a ponytail decorated with several smaller braids, both pretty and practical. he crafts his own little wooden beads to decorate those small braids. he doesn’t wear his hair up too tight, and he often has a lot of loose strands. in a more casual setting, he will typically wear a loose braid or he’ll let his hair down with some small side braid.

Niënor: honey blonde, curly and fluffy and thick in texture. she has fluffy bangs. her go-to style is two low twin braids tied with blue ribbons. in her teen years her hair is a mess and a half due to her insistence that she could cut her hair by herself, and it’s still kind of uneven. during her time in Doriath she learned how to braid her hair in an Iathrim style. though Níniel lost her memory, her muscle memory remained, and she didn’t know why she often defaulted to braiding her hair in this way

Mablung: dark brown, straight yet thick in texture. shaved on the sides, a Sindarin warrior style. his hair is almost always held up in a braid or ponytail. in the three years he spent searching for Nienor, he did not have the time to maintain the side shave style, and his hair started growing in these uneven layers. and he wears Beleg’s beads sometimes, he holds onto them after Beleg dies.

Orodreth: pale gold, wispy and slightly wavy in texture. also very shiny and glittery, actual l’oréal model. his hair care routine is like 10 hours long. he loves braids and he often tucks his hair into a crown, but just loose enough to free his heart shaped curls.

Finduilas: pale gold waves. her go-to hairstyle is to put half her hair in a crown braid with the rest falling in loose curls. she has these little curly ringlets on the sides. following Fingon’s style she braids pink or light purple ribbons in her hair. I also imagine her with some different late medieval/renaissance hairstyles with those pearl nets.

Gwindor: before Angband, his hair was long and slightly wavy, a glossy hue of midnight black. in Angband, his hair was cut short as part of a humiliation/demoralization tactic, and it slowly grew out to chin length when he returned to Nargothrond. the effects of torture on his hröa turned his hair a dull shade of charcoal, and it became brittle in texture

[gretchensinister]

Babylon 5 rewatch, S1 E18: A Voice in the Wilderness, Part I

Ooh more Minbari

THE PLANET

ooooh I remember this one (I think)

There is no way in 1000 years that anyone is going to call a thing with the function of an elevator something other than an elevator even if it's technically different (but it's sci fi so of course we have to attempt it)

I like Delenn's outfit in this brief scene

I hope Dr. Tasaki lives

Okay so jumpgate use does have fees, established on a planetary government level

Gee, Lando, I WONDER WHY the Narn feel that way about you

Cool to see ambassadors doing their regular jobs

Okay, so there is a signal that indicates habitation on the planet

I should make a Minbari outfit as a cosplay. That would be at least more possible than the Vorlon cosplay. I know how to sew.

Wait, so there are still countries on Earth, as well as the Earth overall government? That must be an administrative meeeeessssssss

Why does Sinclair turning off news about horrible world events to be confronted with an even weirder local situation feel so relatable?

I wonder if 2/3s of the command staff having such close ties to Mars is another issue certain government officials have with Babylon 5?

It's interesting that all of the planetary governments/different species we hear about all seem to be undergoing major cultural/political shifts. Then again, maybe that indicates that there never really is a stable time.

No he's not going to tell you, Lando! LMAO

The planet you're orbiting starts firing missiles--news about Mars rebelling--imagine the regular humans hearing about this.

I remember the "Babylon 5 Mantra" lol

Lando's story is...hmm. But, at least it did lighten Garibaldi's mood.

LANDING PARTY TIIIIIME

That thing on the landing grid looks like a sculpture you could find in any airport today

I don't remember how Free Mars was framed the first time I saw Babylon, 5, but it will have to be somewhat positive, right? It wouldn't have been called "Free Mars" otherwise--that's a very positive sounding title

Full Indiana Jones time

Or 90's puzzle game, too. IDK so far the planet stuff is making me think it could be a good little computer game.

YES I remember this vivdly

Delenn like 🙂? At Lando

I love the planet stuff (also still a video game).

CLIFFHANGER

[pacifymebby]

t r o u b l e // chapter six

A peaky blinders modern au balletcore story

Chapter List

Sonya

I lay awake listening to the quiet which remained after Ada had soothed little Karl and set him down to sleep. I knew she wouldn't be sleeping, I knew she'd be somewhere in her wing of the house, growing more agitated by the second. Sitting with her rage and stewing. She would feel just as we did, caged. Helpless to do anything and yet desperate to get as far away from this place as she could. From the evil world our brothers moved in.

I'd been trying not to think about what I would have been doing had I been at home in the flat I shared with Sylvie. It was 4:30am and I'd have been in the shower, fighting off sleep, thinking about the short tube journey into school. Rerunning the steps I'd been trying my best to get to know so well that I no longer had to think. Only had to relax into them and move as if strings were tied to my head, my wrists and my feet.

.I'd been trying not to ask what was going to happen when I didn't show for class, when I didn't show for my rehearsals later that day, but it was difficult not to because in that moment I felt like my whole life was caught on a precipice. Tommy was about to push me off.

In the end I gave up trying to sleep.

The sun was rising somewhere beyond the peaks and my body clock was so atuned to early rising that I saw no point in trying to change in now.

The house was silent, the family finally settled. Whatever disputes had been quietly raging all night were waiting now for the morning when Tommy and Ada would no doubt clash again.

It was much bigger than I'd noticed the night before when John had brought us straight to Tommy's study and then lead us straight to our room, but now that I was treading lightfoot down the hallways slender carpet past numerous doors I was beginning to realise that my brother was far richer than even I could have imagined. It was no secret of course, I'd always known that our family were much better off than we'd been when we were living in that tiny flat in poverty stricken watery lane. It had been obvious that my brothers had social climbed further than any of us could imagine when their names began to circulate the tabloids. When people had started filming Sylvie and I every time my brothers schemes made the news.

But this was a different kind of wealth.

Our "cottage" conversion in the country was palacial and beneath the quaint thatched roof there was money in every vintage church pew, painting and statue that lined the hall.

I trailed my fingers down the banister as I descended the stairs taking each step at a time, still a little sleepy and now hazy in awe of the house I found myself in, knowing that it belonged tp our family. My brothers had been born in a caravan on some trashed car park, but now they owned houses like this and I understood why it was known as Shelby Manor.

I wasn't really looking for anything in particular, simply hoping to get to know my new "home" whilst there was nobody else around. Whilst it felt empty and I had free reign over the halls, rooms and hopefully, the little nooks and hideyholes I would be able to escape to later when everyone else was at one anothers throats.

So, when I slipped through another doorway to find a darker, thinner hallway, the floor of which was made of stone rather than the polished hardwood in the majority of the house, my curiosity was piqued. Not least by the cool draft which hot hit my cheeks gently, it had that earthy damp smell that reminded me of exploring woodland with my sister when we were smaller. So I stepped through the door, gasping though I should have expected how the stone was cold against my bare feet.

It was dark but not pitch black, small fire safety lights making a path along the cieling that I could follow, one hand always trailing the cool stone wall. It felt as though I had stumbled across a secret passage in an old mannor house, the kind of tunnel that should lead out to Narnia or somewhere similar.

I wouldn't have been completely surprised if it had been a secret passageway, an escape tunnel that lead out of the house. That was the kind of thing our Tommy was probably into these days. Still, if it was supposed to be secret it wasn't exactly well hidden, the door left open as if it had wanted to be found.

It didn't occur to me that it had been left open on purpose, though had I though perhaps had I known my brother a little better I'd have worked that out when I reached the exit. A door which opened out into an overgrown garden, long dry grass grown up to my waist, the pollen brushing off on my pyjama shorts as I stepped outside.

The ground was dry and crumbly and as i stepped I felt pieces of snapped grass between my toes. But I wasn't the first to walk through the field that summer because there was a well trodden path already there for me to follow and as I did I realised that I wasn't in anybodys garden at all.

I was at the edge of the manor grounds, where the river which ran the perimeter of the Shelby land opened out into the mouth of a lake which stretched wide and early morning orange sparkling in the sunrise.

I remembered my brother telling me about it once, in one of our brief conversations. Not long after he'd bought the old farmhouse and begun converting it. He'd told me he was going to clear the lake for me so that I could go swimming in it like the lake our mother had taken us to when we were tiny children and she was still alive.

I couldn't help but smile as I lowered myself to crouch on the bank and peer down at the water curiously. He'd done as he'd promised. Perhaps the only promise he'd ever made to me that he'd kept. The water was clean and clear but for the reeds which broke the surface and whispered all wind in the willows peaceful. Daydreamy and alluring.

And so I couldn't resist. Slipping out of my tshirt and shorts into only my underwear, shuffling along and then down the little slope to dip my feet and ankles into the cool water. And it was cold, not icy but cool enough to shiver up my spine and draw a little gasp from me when the water lapped up around my waist. Still it was a good kind of shiver, a good kind of cold and, as I pushed off away from the bank I felt my body cut through the water gracefully, the water swallowing me up to my neck, my legs moving slowly as I kicked and swam smoothly. As I swam I felt the tension of the night before ease a little, washed away by the cool water and the sunlight which dappled and glimmered in warm shades.

I cut a slow moving stroke through the middle of the lake and when I was out far enough away from the bank that I felt a pleasant sense of isolation, I turned onto my back and let myself float, looking up at the clouds in the whispy sky. It was then that I let myself close my eyes, a soft smile on my lips as the water held me and I felt, for the first time in a little while, truly at peace. Truly free. And even though I knew that freedom and peace couldn't last long at all, I was happy to hold onto it and treasure it then for the little time I had been given.

That was until I heard movement somewhere on the bank behind me. My ears prickled at the sound of a foot scuffing at the side of a rock. Shoes being kicked off. The clunk of something heavy hitting the floor.

I jumped, startled, spinning round with a snap, my eyes wide when I saw a lad, shirtless, standing at the edge of the bank, apparently oblivious to me.

At least he had been, and I'd have preferred it to stay that way, until my startled splash had drawn his attention to me.

Now he stood watching me, just far enough that I couldn't read his expression, couldn't make out the colour of his eyes or their truthfulness.

I hovered in the water, a little shaken. Remembering why my brother had brought us back to the manor in the firstplace. Remembering that the outside world was dangerous now, that strangers were enemies as far as anyone sensible was concerned.

So i watched him cautiously and when he raised his hand in a slow wave I didn't return it.

And when he called out across the water to me I didn't reply straight away.

"Hello?" he called out to me, his hand still hovering by his dark curls.

I didn't call back, watching him hesitantly because although he didn't seem hostile he wasn't wearing a peaky cap and I didn't recognise him as anyone Tommy kept close.

And when I didn't respond he lowered his hand and without any warning at all he launched himself into the water in an elegant dive, his body swallowed whole by the water, the white splash frothing and bubbling as he disappeared below the surface.

I froze. Watching the bubbles as he cut through the water and burst through the surface. His slender frame cutting towards me at a much faster speed than I could have managed. Even if I was a quick swimmer, he moved like a fish, his body lithe but strong and powerful and I knew that if he was intent on catching up to me he would.

So i remained still, knowing that if something happened to me out here my brothers would only be angry I'd been out here on my own. That even Ada and Sylvie would want to know why the hell I hadn't put up a fight.

But when he slowed and stopped, treading water about a meter from me he was smirking, the kind of boyish smile worn by a harmless teenager.

"I don't think you heard me before..." he said, his cocky smirk getting under my skin a little as he trod water before me, his eyes flickering over my face and my shoulders, the little of me above water level. "I said hello."

When still I didn't say a word, only held his gaze coldly, stubborn not to show my nerves, he spoke again, still trying to be cheeky, still with a confidence I was sure he didn't deserve. "You're in my lake you know..." he added a little quieter, his smirk undeterred by my unamused pout.

"You're not a Shelby," I said as coldly as I could, my words causing a soft chuckle to ripple from him though I could see in his eyes that I'd caught him off guard.

"So?"

"So its not your lake." I said swimming backwards towards the edge of the lake, watching him watching me. I wasn't rushing, I wasn't "fleeing" but I was pushing quickly through the water, my heart beginning to race when he swam to catch up.

"You seem pretty sure about that for a lass who's never set foot on this riverbank before today..." he called after me, stopping at the bank a second after I did with a smile that would have been contagious had I not been so determined to be as Sylvie would have been had she been caught out like this.

When still I didn't relent he shook his head, half a laugh down towards the water as he leant on the grassy bank with his elbows. He ran his hand through his wet hair and left it sticking up a little scruffy, droplets trailing down his arm and splashing off the water onto me. "What if I told you I had Thomas Shelbys blessing?" he asked, teasing me his eyes twinkling with sarcasm, "would that put your conscience at ease miss?"

The whole time he'd been talking I'd been trying to place his accent. Almost Irish but not quite, familiar to me but only distantly. A part of my past hardly recognisable now.

"You're gypsy..."

"Don't think you're allowed to call me that anymore lass, ain't the 1920s anymore now is it..." he grinned, a caught out grin, a slight pinkish hue in his cheeks, "an I'd think you'd be a wee but more concerned about that an all if you're who I think you are..."

"Gypsy, traveller, romani... Its all the same to me," I shrugged as nonchalantly as I could, knowing that if Ada or Aunt Pol had heard me they'd be furious. That even Tommy and my brothers who still used that word whenever they wanted to put someone else in their place, would have scorned to hear me say that.

"Well," he said, lowering his voice a little, still softly spoken, still teasing, "well now I know you're lying to me Miss Shelby..." he said leaning in a little closer, knowing eyes glowing so that although he didn't look humbled, still looked as though he believed himself to have the upper hand - and he did have the upper hand - he looked a little softer. Enough to ease my fears a little. The knowledge that we were more alike than I'd anticipated putting me at ease, because there wasn't a travelling family in the whole of the midlands who didn't answer to my brother these days.

"You know I'm a Shelby?" I asked edging towards the grass myself about to push myself up onto the bank until I remembered that I was only in my underwear, that my pyjama shorts and tshirt had been abandoned somewhere the other side of the lake.

When he laughed I couldn't tell if he was teasing still or really just laughing at me. My apparent naivety.

"Aye little lass, reckon I know which Shelby you are an all..."

I held his gaze despite myself then, doing my best to remain cold and stubborn, doing my best not to reveal how vulnerable I felt. But my cheeks were heating up, an indignant blush revealing me completely.

"You can't possibly, we've never met."

"You're Sonya," he shrugged pushing himself up onto the verge, looking down at me, his legs still in the water, kicking them gently too relaxed for someone who should have been at least a little wary of a Shelby girl. Then again, he knew exactly which Shelby girl he was talking to, and if there was a Shelby lass not worth fearing I knew it was me.

"Eh don't look so sad," he flashed me another smile, one which riled my temper because I didn't like being teased by strangers who should have feared me. I wasn't used to it either.

In London people had feared me for a collection of reasons, some for my family, most for mt reputation. I was one of, if not the, most talented ballerina of my age. One not to be sniffed at. Someone to gaze at in awe. To be grateful to have met.

"That was just a lucky guess..." I said eyeing him suspiciously.

"Was it yeah?"

"Yes." I said finally, narrowing my eyes at him before backing away, "so, you know who my brother is, close your eyes if you know whats good for you."

I wasn't expecting him to do as I'd said but he did, quickly too. His hand shot up to cover his eyes and he made a point of turning away, laughing at me with a smile that lingered.

"Well I'll be seein yous Sonya," he said his voice light as ever, still teasing, still laughing. Too comfortable. Almost infuriating me so that I couldn't reply, could only hurry back to the trodden in path I'd followed, grabbing my clothes and scarpering as if it really had been me trespassing after all.

Next Chapter

[iliiuan]

Babylon 5 liveblog

Before we begin, my history with Babylon 5 is patchy. I remember enjoying it, but not watching it regularly. So we'll treat this as a first watch because I don't remember any of it.

Season 1 Episode 1: Midnight on the Firing Lane

OMG you guys. It's *square*. <Takes a moment to bask in nostalgia>

Nice hair Ayla. And nice eyebrows, too.

Aw, poor Ayla. And here I was looking forward to admiring your eyebrows.

Ok yeah I love the Centauris.

Second in command doesn't like the telepath. Interesting. And she's fat phobic. Sigh.

See, it's shows like this that had me thinking the views in space would be great instead of empty.

Snake dude just said "The wheel turns" and I yelped.

So the Centauris are Russian analogs?

Ooh, we get prophecy in this show, too? I'm a sucker for prophecy narratives.

That wasn't ominous at all. "We should let them pass." The glowy orb is a dick.

Ooh, now some casual ableism. Fancy.

Londo is not taking the probable death of his nephew well at all.

How does a telepath not know how to deal with a reluctant commander?

Did I just witness the worst come-on ever, or is that a pre-established relationship?

Evoking Pearl Harbor is an interesting choice. It ties the audience (Americans in 1994) to the future world portrayed, even though it is unlikely that Pearl Harbor will have any particular significance in 200 years.

They're definitely setting up Earth as a parallel to Team USA: World Police. We humans are so self-obsessed. We always have to be the heroes.

Snake guy did NOT like being called a coward.

Loving the special effects. Who says 90s special effects don't age well? Oh, that's right. It's cgi that's trash. I love that there are little model Babylon 5 fighter planes out there collecting dust in someone's collection.

The parallels to the current conflict in Palestine keep hitting. "Ragesh III was a Narn colony until the Centauris invaded and began their 100 year reign of terror. Now that we are free of the invaders, it is our right to reclaim it." Sounds an awful lot like what Israel is trying to accomplish. "We recognize the prior claim. We appreciate that, but reality is that Ragesh III has been Centauri property for over a century. To start a war over blood spilled so long ago... Where does it end? You kill them and take their land. They kill you and take the land back. On and on and on. A cycle of hatred." Sounds an awful lot like the people supporting Israel.

Snake guy totally out played Centauri guy. I still think that Carn gave his message under coercion.

Secret gun disguised as religious artefacts. Very nice.

Wait, does she have to touch people for the telepathy to work? (Turns out it was the intensity. Good to know.)

I ship second in command and the telepath so hard.

Daffy Duck is dude's second favorite thing in the entire universe? What is he, a fucking history major?

[thegreatstrongbow]

Beleg is a healer. His practical experience is field medicine - the kinds of wounds you would get on a battlefield or out on the marches. Broken bones, wounds, minor burns, to some degree internal injuries etc.

He also has a vast knowledge of herb-lore and plants and which plants make good treatments - and which to avoid. He can identify them easily and he knows how to make salves, ointments and teas from them. Most of this is knowledge gained through long years of trial and error.

But Beleg's ability extends beyond this practical experience and into the spiritual:

Now Beleg was sorely wounded, but he was mighty among the Elves of Middle-earth, and he was moreover a master of healing. (Of Túrin Turambar, Silmarillion)

In the morning Beleg, being swiftly healed of his pains, after the manner of the Elven-folk of old, spoke to Túrin apart. (Narn i Hîn Húrin, UT)

Now was it that it came into the heart of Beleg the hunter of the Elves to seek after Turin so soon as his own hurts were healed. This being done in no great number of days, for he had a skill of healing… (Turambar and the Foaloke, BOLT2) (Source for the quotes + some interesting info)

He can heal - both himself and others - with his fëa, much like we see Glorfindel/Arwen heal Frodo or Tauriel heal Kili.

It takes considerably more effort to heal others than himself and it can leave him feeling drained and weak.

Healing himself, on the other hand, is a rejuvenating experience and will leave him both healed and feeling energised, at least temporarily.

His ability to heal like this is considerably stronger than many healers, since it is (partially - there would be exceptions) tied to the age of the fëa. Both in verses where he lives and ones where he is reborn, it becomes even stronger, although he uses it far less and would consider himself 'out of practice'.

[postsofbabel]

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[pankracy]

I have soooo many thoughts and I'll definitely write a minuscule portion of them.

b5 spoilers, unsurprisingly

first of all, I reconsidered kosh's vision to g'kar. obviously it was still manipulative as all fuck and designed to get g'kar exactly to the place where he could be useful to the cause -- and yeah, I see (and have seen before) the narrative tragedy and conflict of 'for the greater good' thing. but after kosh's death, right before which he appeared to sheridan as sheridan's father to apologize to him and admit that he was afraid, after lyta saying that in his strange way, kosh cared for the other races, I do see what kosh did to g'kar in a different light too. I think that it did also come from a place of caring towards g'kar. though it did not center or was really about neither him nor his people, but more about it later.

the volrons were removed from everybody else, thought themselves above them and expected to be obeyed. kosh was different, kosh did get more personal, and I think he did genuinely also want to guide g'kar on a path that'd be best for him in the only way he knew how. I thought it especially manipulative of him to appear to g'kar as g'kar's father, and it was, but considering he also chose sheridan's father as his form for sheridan's vision, and he allowed himself to be vulnerable then, I also think this is a way in which he tried to relate.

and I love it that the show allows for this retrospection, that after seeing more of it the past scenes take on a new or additional meaning. neat!

further...

Unfortunately, I love g'kar.

I know that scifi really likes to make humans super special. which is fair; I mean we as humans make scifi and the other aliens are not real and they're there in these stories for us to reflect on ourselves. humans in contrast are real and that means they're messy. I cannot count how many times I've seen a scene of some alien saying "oh I'll never understand humans, so incomprehensible, unlike every other alien civilization I've seen which is apparently much simpler to grasp, and unlike my own people that are also always totally reasonable unless we're talking about ~ females~, ~females~ of any species are a mystery whatcanyado". it's always humans that cause such bafflement!

and with that comes the natural follow-up of humans being special. oh without them how boring it'd be. oh they have just that something in themselves. I don't exactly mind it -- we want to be special! that's okay. at this point I do find it kind of trite, maybe unfairly; it's not like I've seen so much scifi to say it's everywhere or anything, I'm mostly speaking star trek here. but I do understand why it's there, I do also find the tumblr posts being like "can you imagine how we'd explain this to the aliens" fun occasionally. it's funny that we can so easily imagine the existence of other species, but not the fact that they could also be confusing, absurd and internally contradictory.

but then back to g'kar. who is not human. whose people suffered terrible losses. who got support from our human protagonists (but oh their hands were so terribly tied so the support was at times so minuscule as to make him crylaugh at having been offered it), who was so often considered a bother and an annoyance and unreasonable even while he was begging them for help for his people. who eventually reached a conclusion that for narn to gain any sort of support he'd have to make himself and his people useful to the humans' cause. and that it was... proper. that it was how it should be. I'd like to read it as him believing in mutual aid, and it is there, but all the talk about the narn having to sacrifice themselves absolutely overshadows it at some point in the story.

I loved that the reason delenn was so reluctant into bringing him in to the know when it comes to the shadows was because she'd have to tell him she & kosh knew all along what was going on and basically watched passively as his people were being destroyed. I love how ashamed she was of it, that it was narratively acknowledged, and that g'kar was hit so hard by this truth. but then...

but then next we see them truly interact he gives her his support, he tells her she & sheridan are not alone, specifically when it comes to earth's problems!!! and we don't really see him struggling with this at all, with the unfairness of it. there's all this talk about how special humans are and mostly we see londo & g'kar & delenn as mouthpieces for this. the minbari are a big part of the show, naturally, but delenn turns half human and it turns out that valen was human turned part minbari the same way; their souls get reborn into humans. valen is the most important figure for minbari and he was human. the... human-centrism of it is slightly bothersome to me in light of the narn struggle, parts of g'kar's story, the way the only other most prominent alien race in the show is so intrinsically tied to the human race.

coming back to my "Unfortunatley I love g'kar"; I care so much about his story and I'm super biased I realize, so I maybe overnotice (?) this tendency of the show to create and stick with this human mythos as leading and primary even in the struggle of the entire people to survive. it's grating at times!

it's fun to ponder all this and I don't have some Big Conclusions here, just... thoughts and observations and feelings. also I've been writing all this on and off for like three days, each day after some wine had been had so it's probably totally incomprehensible.

[rosallora]

S4E8

I HAVEN’T DONE ONE OF THESE IN A WHILE I SWEAR I’LL DO SOME KIND OF CATCH-UP SOON

Posh don’t look! No looky! Babylon 5 spoilers for S4 E8 below!

Okay - so the moment of meeting between Londo and G’kar after everything... that thread of tension is so tight, you’re just WAITING for it to snap. And though I understand why G’kar has taken the position he has (you do not exist to me, do not cross paths with me again), it makes my heart ACHE that they can’t work things out. And “work things out” feels like such a... small and petty descriptor of what I want.

I wish they could be stronger and come together in true solidarity after the harrowing experience they had on Centauri Prime (and Narn!). I feel like this is the moment where they COULD truly.. come together. And it’s interesting that to me, it’s G’kar’s pride that keeps that from happening. And his pride is important, essential to his being. But I... want that softness for them. I wish they could sit together and WEEP. I want them to... to shake their heads slowly, drinking together, silently understanding the pain of the other.

I guess this is what dreams are made of shipwise, huh. Because it’s like... I understand WHY, in canon, it can never be. I get it. And I understand, both narratively and thematically, why the relationship is the way it is. And more than anything else, I understand G’kar’s point of view. Asking for the ship to be canon in this case almost feels disrespectful to him, you know what I mean? Casting aside his personal sense of self. This relationship is built on BLOOD. On viscera. On suffering. From the foundation up. And it would never stand up to the test of time. But... I want them to have that moment of mutual understanding that isn’t tied together by terror, horror, or pain. i want them to have that soft moment, if only for the sake of them GETTING to have a soft moment. To quietly understand.

Augh. Also Garibaldi quit.

Last statement made in the same joking manner as:

[phaeton-flier]

Plot hooks as of right now:

Earth still fascist

Babylon 5 and other Human colonies are independent

Psi Corps, the other human fascism

Londo and Vir become emperors

The slug thing on Londo in the flash forward

Narn forming a new government and presumably rebuilding diplomatic ties with other races

New Centuarii emperor and renormalization of its diplomatic ties with everyone they invaded (e.g. everyone)

G'Kar becoming the next Jaquan

What happened to Garabaldi before and after being kidnapped?

Unwinding the massive fleet and making sure no one takes the military buildup as an excuse for revanchism

So we've got our series finale-level episode on season 4 of 5, episode 6 of 22, i presume the rest is the chaos of cleanup and building a new order.

[lesbian-ashe]

now THIS is self indulgence but if I had a nickel for every beetle character I fell in love with, I’d have five nickels, which isn’t a lot, but it’s weird it happened five times

[killldeer]

Thrilling Intober day 26, HEALING, featuring everyone’s favorite Verse Unbound – preparing to drag gregor through the fabric of reality and back to the world of the living.

[hellafa]

markus' tearfelt goodbye hard cut to awkward drinks where firi is introducing ashe as her girlfriend to narn

[oakwyrm]

For day 17 of polyamuary over on @polyshipprompts. I chose to interpret the prompt at “Colvin attempted to carry all of his datefriends at once and it went predictably sideways.”

[Image description: A digital drawing of Colvin, Kyr, Markus, and Narn from Thrilling Intent. They're sprawled in a hap-hazard pule on the floor, Narn laying across the other three, Markus in completely pinned to the ground, one arm resting on Colvin's shoulder. Colvin and Kyr are both sitting up, laughing. Colvin is half-covering his face with one hand.]

[asinineabbreviations]

nother doodle sketchdump! this time mostly thrilling intent, with a single mongoose taako thrown in there to keep you on ya toes