#origins uncertain
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starqueensthings · 2 years ago
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Tech refuses to let a big deal be a big deal: Part Seven
Other parts linked in my masterlist.
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Bonus: When the panic finally hits...
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nina-iseri · 2 months ago
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hallowshumour · 5 months ago
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Doodle of my edgy ass rainbow dash kinsona, Storm Chase. 🌈🌩💥🎠
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babacontainsmultitudes · 1 year ago
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[To myself, lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling] Oh maybe Nicky can be in heaven and not take any sort of damage there despite being a demon because he’s also (canonically) Saint Nick
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professorscrooge · 1 month ago
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Sleeping Soldiers AU Draft - circa August '23
Feel amidst continuing to necro-post on this AU, I should probably actually post the draft of my attempt at turning this into a fic, bit more than a year ago. Ran out of steam, as I tend to, and it's a bit rough (also don't know if tumblr has a character limit, but fair warning, this is ~3k). Diverged from where ideas on this ended up going.
References to the original inspiration(s) can be found on posts here and here, and I will emphasise credit @phoenixyfriend, @epicmusic42 and @graylinesspam whose work I have been butting in on (and I think this may rip off some of their wordings). Leans largely into bits and pieces of the Legends timeline, but only through vague references as that's a whole monolith of a thing to try and understand. --
 Coruscant is a city of metal and glass; the planet that once was is buried beneath eons of sharp edges growing out ever further. As the centre of the Galactic Republic, it is demanded to be continuously modern (at least on the surface), with a slick and shining outer coating. Its noises are of technology; the heavy thrum of electricity is the heartbeat of the city, speeders and aircraft fill the air with their droning, and there are an abundance of holoscreens to display the inauguration of the new Chancellor of the Galactic Republic. 
 The Jedi Temple is perhaps the one exception: its tranquillity is unmatched on Coruscant, and its construction is old and solid. All the same, when the silence within the Temple was broken by noise, its nature was unnerving in its irregularity; not the shattering of glass or creaking of metal, not the whine of engines, not an explosion or a turbolaser or any such thing, it is a noise unheard on Coruscant for Millenia.
 It is a grinding, of stone upon stone, echoing up from its very deepest recesses.
Circa 500 BBY
 The Jedi Temple is an ancient relic of bygone times; old enough, that the only records that might say how old are held within its own walls (or rather, were, given the unfortunate number of sackings and assaults in its history had frequently damaged the famous archives). Its grand size is a symbol of strength against the dark, but also something of an impracticality in certain times. Its lower reaches are vast, stretching all the way down to the forgotten mountains of Coruscant; a surface where sunlight hasn’t shined in millennia. Construction kept reaching upwards for the longest time, keeping up with the rising levels of the city-planet as its foundations became buried under smog and filth, forgotten.
 In the wake of wars’ end, many lower levels were sealed away; who needed such vast halls, impromptu barracks and storage, when the Jedi no longer served as military leaders? There was no need to house so many people as to require them, and it was more effort to clean and maintain them than necessary for a monk order of a few thousand. After all, this was a Golden Age, with the Sith defeated, and a time of the High Republic.
 Age lent itself to secrets, and with time, many of those secrets were lost with their keepers.
--
 The newly minted Chancellor paused only briefly in taking his oath of office. Most present simply chalked it up to the weight of the vows involved being taken seriously. In truth, the hidden Darth Sidious that lurked under the unassuming garb of Sheev Palpatine had shivered at a tremor in the Force; local and distinctly, searingly Light in its origin, piercing the veil of darkness he and his master had woven over the planet for but a moment. Quickly, he steeled himself and resumed his words; it would not do to falter or drop his mask at this stage. And after all, what could stop The Great Plan now? Sidious had a thousand years of his Order’s planning behind his back. It wasn’t like the Jedi could think on such a grand scale.
Circa 1000 BBY
 The history of the Jedi Temple site may as well be a timeline of the Republic itself. With the ever-recurrent war that was fought over its location, and how often Coruscant changed hands, it wasn’t just built upon, but rebuilt, several times. The Grand Ziggurat of the High Republic era was built over the ashes and ruins of the Temple before it, reaching to the sky not far from where the newly built Senate District would form the seat of the Galaxy. A symbol of strength to a unified Galaxy that had defeated the evil of the Sith, once and for all.
--
 The Jedi Council scrambled to action, of course (in as dignified manner as they could). Even with their senses long-blinded by the veil that consistently hampered their sight, there was no missing the stirring beneath their feet. 
 “Awoken, something has,” Master Yoda was heard to declare.
Circa 3653 BBY
 The Soldiers’ Hall, as it came to be known, was a real anomaly. It was unearthed in the wake of the Treaty of Coruscant, and the Great Sacking of the Jedi Temple. The respite granted by the armistice with Sith Forces withdrawing from the world was a balm to the Coruscanti people, yes, but the Jedi had returned to a Temple filled with death and desecration. Their holiest relics had been plundered, and the numbers of dead were horrific; a toll only growing as they uncovered the deadly traps spiteful Sith had left behind to further ruin them. It was a painful experience for the survivors, not helped by the lack of justice and repercussions the treaty afforded them.
 With their returned forces in peacetime, however, it was decided to fully survey the Temple to account for all possible traps. The survey unearthed many lower chambers forgotten for centuries, which would soon be repurposed as bunkers for military assets. Naturally, the opportunity was also taken to strengthen ancient foundations with modern materials, which came with looking over the foundations of the ancient Temple grounds atop a mountain of Coruscant, and the Dark Shrine hidden there. It was known to the High Council alone that the old Temple had been built atop a Dark Vergence in the Force in an attempt to cleanse it, and a handful of masters yet survived to share that information to a select few. What surprised them more was the discovery of older ruins beneath the Shrine, built into the mountain itself, and seemingly dating to before the Alsakan conflicts, perhaps even the Jedi Order itself (though few dare voice this thought). The shift from precision, machine-poured duracrete that has been in use for millennia, to the more rough, hand-hewn stone is a sight that excites the archaeologically inclined allowed to see it. 
 Most of the tunnels are collapsed, but slowly, over several years of uneasy peace, a path is unearthed to a large atrium, central beneath the Dark Side Nexus. The discovery is shocking to those who uncover it; they’d gone from archiving very faded murals (amidst admonishment that such pre-Jedi religious teachings are not worth great regard), to cracking the door open to a great chamber filled with an army of statues. A thousand men – clearly soldiers – each expertly carved with incredible detail, each set of armour uniquely battle scarred and hand painted, each posed differently, and every single one perfectly preserved in defiance of their ancient surroundings. The warriors sat, or lay, or kneeled, in great concentric circles, facing inwards to a central figure, the only one not wearing armour; a Togruta woman, dressed simply, and with lightsabers resting at her hips. Where the soldiers were wrought from a pale white stone, she was crafted in warm terracotta in a relaxed pose, face bowed in conference with the Force. It was almost as if she were made of flesh.
 Despite the gathering of Masters who quickly investigated the room, none could quite manage to lay a hand upon her. The sense of foreboding was just too strong. Every gaze in the room was pointed towards her; an even thousand visors of solid stone, focused on this one woman, every one so lifelike as to be uncanny. In-fact, sometimes, in the corner of the Jedi’s eyes, it was almost like they moved; a chest rising and falling with breath, tiny fluctuations in the Force that evaded the senses, or flickers of dreams. Almost as if they were waiting for something.
 The Council ordered the chamber sealed; what markings upon the soldiers that could be identified were Mandalorian in origin, so clearly this was some work of those great adversaries and their common allies, the Sith. That those forces combined had so recently sacked their home likely aided this decision. Knowledge and warnings were recorded within the Council’s private library only, and would be lost some centuries hence by the passing of those who saw the sight and another sacking of the upper Temple.
 Beneath them all, the feared warriors continued to sleep.
--
 The sounds of shattering stone echoed within the long-forgotten chamber, even as dust filled the air from the broken remains. This noise was swiftly drowned out by a thousand throats all drawing breath at once.
Circa 5000 BBY
 Recapturing Coruscant was not the final victory of what came to be called the Great Hyperspace Wars, but it was perhaps the most important, given that all that followed became much easier with forces scattering. However, there was an interesting discovery made upon their landing; an empty Shrine, where once the Sacred Spire peak of Mount Satorl had stood.
 The destruction of the Sacred Spire had been one of the opening gambits of the conflict, so this was expected. The Jedi amongst the Republic Forces were most dismayed that the legendary Vergence in the Force that had rested there had been twisted into a Dark nexus, but this too had been rumoured by spies and propaganda. No, what was surprising was the lack of occupants, particularly Sith acolytes. This was a powerful nexus in the Dark Side, and a clear site of investment to build the new Shrine, but there was nobody present; just the signs of conflict that predated Republic arrival to the planet.
 Eventual interrogation of Sith Forces revealed rumours of a ‘curse’ upon the site; no force had managed to occupy the site for long, somehow always turning up dead. Construction of the Shrine had taken several years, and a great many slow attempts, always stymied by poor fortune.
 The Jedi took this as a sign that the Force itself resisted the corruptive attempts for as long as possible, and when granted a boon for their aid in the war, chose to claim the land for themselves. There, they built a new Temple, in the hope that the presence of many Jedi may once again cleanse this place that had long been sacred to a great many religious and Force-sensitive sects throughout the Galaxy. The Jedi Order would build their new headquarters at the heart of the Republic and therefore claim the site instead of any other religion having access.
 Of course, throughout construction, there was plenty of investigation of the ruins being built over (padawans got bored hanging around and waiting, naturally, and the Galaxy’s archaeologists were most invested in seeing how this location had suffered under Sith rule). Of particular note is a surviving chamber of the old Sacred Spire that is unearthed; a grand chamber filled with statues. Sadly, no records from prior to the Sith occupation persist, but a great many experts descend on the room to catalogue what they can of the astoundingly beautiful find that is far more interesting than dusty old clay vessels. The General’s Legion, they are quickly dubbed, given the militaristic bent.
 They bring in first art experts, then body language experts, even a scholar on Mandalorian culture once some symbols are defined. Most of the markings they find mean nothing, however; while Mandalorian symbols are identified a few dozen times, including Jaig Eyes on one of the more prominent soldiers directly facing The General, there’s no real commonality with any clan, or any real consistency. Many more besides are marked with nonsense; a loose word or number in some language, even some unrecognised languages that cause head scratching. The holstered blasters cause them to bring in antique weapons dealers to unsuccessfully identify them, causing yet more headaches at the clear mass-manufacturing on display, since most the soldiers bear the same weapons, but they are entirely unfamiliar. Artists are baffled at how perfectly detailed and well-preserved the figures are; the level of work on display would have taken hundreds of artists thousands of hours, but the style implies a singular sculptor. The historians flail wildly at whether these soldiers throw all the old theories about the Taung originating Mandalorian culture into doubt.
 The only experts who could agree upon something were those who attempted to psychoanalyse the figures; the way the men were arranged was with deference for the General, and those closest to her were the officers with the most decoration and adornment (and battle scars), while those nearest the edge were the lowest ranks. Originally, they thought the much smaller central figure was being threatened by the soldiers, but she sat in such a relaxed pose of confidence it seemed more clearly a commander’s position.
 Still, as time goes on, their observations are recorded and stored in the new Jedi library, and a towering new Temple is built over the ruins. Gradually, this fills with masters, knights and younglings looking forward to a new era of peace and prosperity. The past is not forgotten, but it is not the focus of an Order trying to rebuild after centuries of conflict. And so, the statues sit in their atrium, still and silent. Masters study them for decades, photos and essays are included in the new archives; they are a fascination, a mysterious piece of history.
 But, time passes, and slowly the fascination fades. The wider galaxy captures attention, the Regions are expanding in a new era of colonisation and there is great need for Jedi aid. Only those particularly intrigued by art and archaeology look through the old archives. The statues become more of a ghost story.
 Padawans sometimes gossip about them over latemeal. They dare each other to sneak down to the lower levels, and walk between the rows upon rows of sleeping soldiers. The truly brave (or reckless) of the classes make the journey, past the point where the air lifts reach, down long staircases and through the dusty thick air. Lightsabers raised high over their heads, they tiptoe between the first few rows, twisting wildly at jumping shadows cast over the room. Some stare petrified into the visors of the men, convinced that if you peer close enough, you can see eyes peering back at you. 
 Very, very few brave padawans make it all the way to The General – one or two per generation – but those that do, swear they hear her breathing.
 Over the years, those children grow into knights, into masters and grandmasters, and then they pass into the Force. Still, the tradition survives, for a time, until one day, when the new Temple has become old and known many Councils, the chamber passes from memory, and is lost for many centuries to come.
 But still, the soldiers look to their General for orders.
--
 The first breath is the hardest.
 Going out, the air feels abrasive and dust-filled, and her throat is drier than a desert. Then, she must try and breath in, and it’s an effort to fill lungs that have sat still for so very, very long. She coughs once, and then struggles through it, going through the motions a few times as she slowly registers her montrals ringing from the similar sounds about her.
 Finally, she looks up, eyes open and awake.
 “Orders, sir?” Rex asks.
 “Form up.”
Circa ??? BBY
 The Mountains were a safe place. A sacred place, to many. So when war came to Coruscant, it was to the mountains people fled.
The One-Thousand-And-One, a group of warriors who spoke no language anyone understood, but under whose strength, Coruscant stood against Alsakan [– Tion instead?]. They could never leave the Mountain, though.
And that’s all I managed to write out, couldn’t quite figure a) what I wanted their arrival period to be like/what they did there, and b) how I wanted the present-time to work out (likely marching on the Senate building and demanding Sidious’ surrender). Ended up with some Jedi-negative things in there that I'm not entirely sure where they came from (probably something emerging from my frustrations with Christianisation on mythology). May have been a bit uncharitable.
Much as I kinda like the framing of current day swapping back and forth with older and older eras, I don't think I'm coming back to this version - I think I prefer the more recent ideas related to the chamber's unveiling in more modern eras, and drama resulting therefrom.
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snakebites-and-ink · 7 months ago
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Whumper-Turned-Caretaker CYOA 8
CW for the series | Masterlist
You chose to address the "sir" thing.*
You decide you’re going to reassess the titles requirement.
You’re already having a serious talk with Whumpee, and the focus is on changes in their circumstance. It’s probably a good idea to deal with their titles use now. May as well, while you’re at this.
You consider. You rather like being addressed by a title, of course, or you wouldn’t have made that a rule for them. But it would probably be best for their recovery to ditch that rule, at least at some point. A healthy, free person would probably feel comfortable calling you whatever they felt like. Maybe it can wait though; would it be better to keep the focus on more pressing issues? It could cause them to stress over what the “right” way to address you is.
*it was a tie, but I went with this one because I was planning on following this next part with the other option anyways
Taglist:
@kabie-whump, @whumpanthems, @whumpsoda, @3-2-whump, @generic-whumperz, 
@taterswhump, @alivenova, @whumped-by-glitter, @expressionless-fr, @whumpycries, 
@whumpsday, @moons-cozy-corner, @echo-goes-aaa, @whumplr-reader, @starfields08000, 
@whump-blog, @ivymyers, @currentlyinthesprial, @lumpofsand, @coffin-hopping, 
@sunglasses-in-the-bentley
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m0rguem0th · 2 months ago
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goretober day 3 - silence
swallowed up by shadows
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outlying-hyppocrate · 3 months ago
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well. did you fucking miss me.
#random thoughts#apologies for sounding in such a sour mood. life is fucked as of late.#scheduled post. i made this on 10.08.2024.#everything has just gone to shit. so far i've been eating less than ever. feels like my stomach is eating itself augh (':#(technically the so-called relapse started on 24.12.2023. but we are not unpacking that today or ever.)#and i am filled with this desperate urge to cut myself. really really deep. not sure how to cope with it#i also?? hate how i look??#and yet i spend all my time?? in this dark dark room?? taking pictures of my face?????#i'm not killing myself off just yet don't worry. i considered it but it won't be happening any time soon.#i originally planned on disappearing for twelve days. partly to make my friends feel bad because i'm awful#which. obviously didn't work. as i don't think anyone noticed or cared particularly.#but mostly because i can't fucking handle it. it being everything. my future feels so uncertain#i am barely alive. i love all the people in my life. but they're too far away physically and emotionally.#but yeah. back finally. although ciel disappears for a lot longer than me and if you know hym my absence would be a small stint.#ciel if you're here when i post this i love you please come back. ):#this place is so scary to come back to. i'm not sure why. i'm just. scared.#i'm not even sure if i want to return really. i'm having second thoughts now. i haven't gotten worse enough#and i can't say what that means. because in theory there's nothing wrong with me that's been speculated upon. so.#i don't think anyone would care if i disappeared for longer than this.#but being away is torture. and then again being here also sort of is. it's scary#fuck.#i can't get out of bed without feeling like shit. i don't know if i can come back. i'm so sick of everything.#if you're seeing this i'm so sorry.#I NEED TO CUT MYSELF I NEED TO CUT MYSELF NOW. I NEED TO. I MADE SO MANY PROMISES BUT I NEED TO DO IT NOW#I'VE GOT THE SCISSORS I NEED TO DO IT#I NEED TO DO IT RIGHT THE FUCK NOW#(<- tags canceled for now)
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nearly none of my art's been living up to my standards recently so draw something without that expectation
Just so happened that the character I chose was the Chosen One from Animator vs Animation, and I completely forgot what my original design for this guy was (along with how I stylized sticks), soooooo
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garr9988 · 8 months ago
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See, the big thing I got from the original three Night at the Museum movies was that the qualities of the best night guard are compassion, empathy, intuition, and ingenuity. Larry was good at understanding and learning about the exhibits, what they wanted and how to make them happy, how to help them get along with each other.
Kahmunrah Rises Again completely ignores that and turns it into a generic vague issue of confidence and physical capability, with the extra Deus Ex Machina hail-Mary of being able to understand music & having a smart tablet on hand.
Going by the first three movies, if Nick needed to "prove himself" as a fit replacement for Larry, he should have been shown to be able to help exhibits, not "save the world" (even if that's what happened in the 2nd movie - funny how the stakes weren't even that high in the 3rd and originally final movie. It called out the Tablet's prophecy/warning being about the end of the magic, not the end of the world).
If they wanted to bring Kahmunrah back, Nick's best way to prove himself as a good if not better night guard would be to help redeem Kahmunrah and establish a positive relationship with his family and the rest of the exhibits!
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expectiations · 10 months ago
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all this discourse (what? again?) over River's species (just use Child of the TARDIS or TARDIS kid if you want a shorter one for goodness sakes - although TARDIS wiki says Proto-TIme Lord) and all i really wanna talk about is how Patience (the Doctor's wife on Gallifrey) could very well be River
"but it doesn't/wouldn't make sense, Tia!!!"
hmm... for you? probably not.
but darling... it's Doctor Who, it makes sense even when it doesn't
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dumbblondesposts · 3 months ago
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deva-arts · 3 months ago
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Human Vincent might be a daredevil, but he's still human. His unrepentant nature and tendency to run into things out of his depth doesn't bode too well for him either.
Honestly after the first five or so lines Bird Vince started feeling impressed. This did not quell his aggression, however.
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hua-fei-hua · 8 months ago
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read a sick as hell arlebina fic by @followerofmercy a few months ago, and the title ended up sticking in my head. i actually meant to do this more carefully on calligraphy paper, but then earlier today i noticed that i refilled my pens with colors that all go together for once and decided to ride the impulse to see how la colombe envie les cygneaux might look with them. fortunately, the light on the train decided to cooperate.
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one-with-the-tree · 6 months ago
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I have a soft spot for the "chocolate" wolf coloration. It seems to be on the rarer side but it looks so unique
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original-post-locator · 28 days ago
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Hello,
Years ago on tumblr, there was a post going around that was basically a poem in response to Emily Dickinson’s “Hope is the thing with feathers” poem. It dug into how hope is hard, actually, it can be a struggle and it can be painful and awful, that it’s really more like a burden at times etc. But that hope is *always* worth it. I cannot for the life of me find this poem now, and I’d really love to use it in as an example for stubborn optimism in a discussion about mental health I’m going to. I believe it was titled something to the effect of “Hope is NOT the thing with feathers” but I might be mistaken. I know it’s not a lot to go on, but I’d be grateful if you could try to find this post.
Many thanks for your effort 💜
I found two options
https://www.tumblr.com/auressea/685004713503162368/so-lets-take-this-digital-image-of-a?source=share
This post is from 2022, a poem by Caitlin Seida
Hope Is Not a Bird, Emily, It's
a Sewer Rat. From My Broken Voice: Poetry From the Edge and Back
Caitlin Seida 2018
It has a couple thousand notes.
The other option is a 2016 post. 
https://www.tumblr.com/potsiespoons/149723817768/image-description-drawing-of-a-stick-figure-girl?source=share
Are these what you’re looking for?
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