#r2-d2 statue

[sw5w]

What is the Situation?

STAR WARS EPISODE I: The Phantom Menace 01:43:10

[yourneighborhoodporg]

The Guardian

Chapter 8: Blackened Water (Part 1)

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader

Warnings: graphic descriptions of migraines, mention of sleeplessness/loss of appetite, self-sacrifice (if ya squint), angst, fluff, banter, descriptions of violence.

Summary: It had been two weeks since you arrived on Coruscant when The Chosen One invited you to join him in an impromptu Starfighter piloting session. After reminiscing about the weeks prior, you, Anakin, Ahsoka, and R2-D2 decide to transform the lesson into a game. However, you are quick to learn that pushing this ship to its limit was sure to have unintended complications.

Song Inspo: Migraine — Twenty One Pilots

Words: 6k

A/n: Looks like things are about to get complicated... please comment/pm if you'd like to be on the Taglist! And lmk your thoughts on this chapter :)

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Series Masterlist

So much like the moon, we show the world only one and veil our many faces, even from the sun — Jason Versey

“It’s not that I don’t want to learn how to pilot a Starfighter, I’m just not sure if I want to learn from you.”

You spoke forcefully into the comlink headset, its rounded, copper microphone hovering inches from quarrelsome lips. You were currently situated in a Republic Starfighter’s Co-Pilot Forward Gunner’s cockpit, and its rushing drone was creating a deafening habitat that drove you to raise your voice had you any hope of communicating with Anakin, Ahsoka, or Anakin’s droid companion R2-D2 at any point during this flight. Still, the boundless rush failed to block you from continuing your exploration of the fighter’s gunnery controls, spelled out by the glaring interactive screen nestled in the jutted crook to your right.

“I’ll have you know that I’m the best pilot the Jedi have, if not, the Galaxy,” Anakin defended, his mechanically muffled voice crackling into your earpiece while he directed the fighter’s acceleration around Coruscant’s curvature.

You flexed a doubtful brow at his cockiness, despite his inability to see you from the main pilot’s cockpit stationed a meter ahead, just before the bird’s nose.

“Weren’t you the one who crash-landed that shuttle on Hoth in the first place?” You challenged.

“They’ve got you there,” Ahsoka piped up, the young voice spluttering through your headset from her perch in the tail gunner’s pit directly behind.

“That wasn’t my fault,” he huffed.

You shook your head at the exchange, levity conquering facial muscles that usually endured some semblance of placidity as you carried on with your analysis of the ship’s offensive capabilities.

In the seconds that followed, a brief silence unfolded across the fighter’s private comms channel, though that didn’t deter you from continuing to tap away at the informative screen just below your fingertips. Needless to say, despite focusing your mind on canons and proton torpedo launcher specifications, the prolonged lull in conversation streamlined your thoughts into deeper ruminations as your evolving muscle memory assumed control.

It had been nearly two weeks since your arrival on Coruscant, and you were finding that you had a knack for acclimating quickly to the drastically contrasting environment. The warmer weather, busier urban environment, and abundance of Jedi-specific resources were quite the staggering changes from your meager, solitary existence among boundless blizzards and bloodthirsty beasts.

So, it didn’t take much convincing to welcome the transition with open arms.

You were still settling in, so, rationally, you recognized that you weren’t as versed in the Jedi Temple’s daily happenings as its more veteran residents. However, from the behavior you observed alone, you could still tell that time dragged far more gradually than the status quo, even when compared to the beginning few days of your arrival.

At first, you noticed that meetings among the Jedi Council had become less frequent. There was little to discuss while they awaited news from Temple technicians who, sector-by-sector, continued their analysis of each minutia of the Jedi’s expansive communications array. And when they did convene, it was usually due to handfuls of temporarily visiting clones, dispatched from their units to deliver on-the-ground intelligence directly to assigned generals who would then liaise any necessary information to the Council for further instructions.

Generals, you sighed inwardly. The taste of that word being used to describe Jedi was still akin to the tangy expiration of blue milk. A sign of the times, you supposed. So, again, you pushed that thought away.

You continued your recollection, even harking back to that strange, incongruous feeling that overcame your senses when you spotted your first set of clones. Rationally, you knew what to expect. Beings that looked exactly like each other in most, if not every conceivable way. Though, despite that assumption, you’d found that even in the briefest of interactions, these clones seemed to be some of the most diverse and spirited individuals you’d ever met.

Sure, you hadn’t chanced upon that many beings in your lifetime. But of the few troopers you did encounter, they certainly stood in stark contrast against that backdrop of Coruscanti civilians and Jedi from your recent past.

They were dedicated to their craft and their generals, drove into the depths of battle without the protection of the Force, and supported each other like true brothers in arms.

And with all your being, you commended that.

Maybe that’s why you were looking forward to meeting more of their comrades and discovering how their relationship with the Jedi Order came to be. You could only learn so much from those few, fleeting conversations in a passing walkway. Especially because their presence was always so short-lived.

Once a new directive was assigned by the Council, the visiting batches were soon whisked away, once again into the strange, galaxy-wide relay race in the name of secure communications while the Council melted back into their brief slumber. You supposed it was the natural consequence of the Republic Army’s temporary reliance on snail mail, but it was all still so strange nonetheless.

You had to admit, though, that things had begun to pick up in the last week. You remembered hearing passively from a congregation of Masters moving through a large hall one afternoon, that a smattering of Jedi had been sent out alongside the most recent collection of clone drop-ins. Some of those named individuals returned after a few days, having spotted them in the Archives, a refractory, or even conversing with Master Windu.

But the ones you didn’t see again?

You could only assume that they were continuing to traverse the Galaxy on some unknown mission in the name of peace.

But word of mouth was not your only source of information regarding the curbed release of Jedi back to the Front. You had, at times, happened to see it for yourself. Like just the other day, when passing by one of the Temple’s main hangars on the way to another sparring session with Anakin. Just by chance, out of the corner of your eye, you’d caught a pair of Jedi preparing to depart alone. There was no clone in sight by their powered-up Nu-class attack shuttle, red and white markings trailing its spine as it gaily awaited the two passengers conversing lowly at the bottom of the boarding ramp. You remembered it was a duo of black-robbed, green-tinted Mirialans— Master and Padawan, their relative ages suggested. Off to another untold destination, but, this time, without a crew of troopers.

You recalled thinking at that moment: maybe the Council has grown more agreeable with the concept of dispatching Jedi alone to temporary assignments?

Then again, their sudden departure might have had more to do with the need to immediately transmit vital information to a distant battalion than anything else.

Either way, it was all a guess. You had learned fairly quickly in your time at the Temple that The Council considered most wartime information as need-to-know. Even Master Windu, in the few times you’d met with him, was reticent to share any news with you that didn’t directly concern your being.

At any rate, those instances of strategic departures were rare, leaving many Jedi to find a way to occupy themselves during this involuntary downtime.

You, personally, were utilizing this time the best way you could— as an opportunity to address the persistent migraines that’d been plaguing you for the past week and a half.

Even in the cockpit of a Starfighter, thousands of kilometers away from Coruscant’s golden inscriptions, you could still recall it all so perfectly.

They would start off imperceptibly stunted, pecking away at your senses so gently that you’d barely notice their presence until the draining aches inflamed into pounding thumps deep at the core of your brainstem.

The worst part was that you never knew when they were going to strike next. It was just all so…sporadic.

They’d crawl into your sinuses during early afternoon drills, nibbling at your attention mere minutes into attempting a particularly complicated, defensive acrobatic which would accordingly backfire from the ordeal’s impetuosity. Other times, it was in the evening, usually erupting in your skull halfway through supper, and, often, smack dab in the middle of a sentence aimed at one of the three Jedi who’d whisked you away from Hoth weeks ago.

Naturally, regardless of your hope to learn more about The Chosen One, his former Master, and Padawan during these times, this strange affliction’s consequences would routinely cut such moments short. The second that distinctive, rising thunder would rumble, you were pressed to conjure up some excuse to retire early, leaving most of your plain meal uneaten from the unexpected loss of appetite in each premature retreat to your quarters.

In addition to coping with the persistently tugging weights chained to the back of your eyeballs, you were, to the best of your ability, trying to keep its effects as discreet as possible. You’d keep your signature muted and expression neutral as the warning signs of an impending strike encroached on your senses, removing yourself from whichever training, social, or study activity may have fanned its flames.

But despite it all, these considerations were not enough to deter the occasional wisp of care that would flutter from Ahsoka’s brows following your early conclusion of a joint study session. Or the flare of worry that would spurt behind Anakin’s fiery eyes after you ended a spar prematurely, hand cradling your forehead the moment you’d retreated from his line of vision.

Your efforts to obscure any reflection of pain especially did little to dissuade the concern that rippled across Obi-Wan’s features last night, when in the middle of a teasing escapade with Anakin, your brilliant grin faltered into a thin, immutable line as a sudden spear to the base of your skull compelled you to briskly break off from the group before the impartial expression you strained to support wavered.

Discerningly, you understood that despite your efforts, the three of them knew something was transpiring. Still, you were confident enough that your exercise in representing these headaches as sudden fatigue would present these moments as too bland to warrant serious discussion.

You wanted, no, needed to keep any sense of severity to a minimum. You’d spent the last decade alone on a lethal, ice planet, your entire life being the sum experience of staring down danger’s sharpest teeth and shaving them blunt by yourself. All in all, you’d certainly dealt with threats far greater than the danger of a persistent set of migraines, you joked inwardly. So you knew that, with time, you’d figure out how to trim away this roadblock too.

And without involving The Chosen One.

You thought back to your first working theory of the issue, that your body was still adapting to its changed environment. Even though you felt energized by this new planet’s radiant sunlight, the heat could have still affected you more than you first realized. But even with this, you understood that only time would tell.

In the interim, you found it unnecessary to worry your Jedi acquaintances. They had no need for knowledge of your sleepless nights, fueled by mushrooming, stings bursting behind your forehead. Shattering you awake in a puddle of strenuous sweat and breathless utterances that disheveled your sheets.

“Just go away already,” you huffed one early morning.

You were The Guardian after all. Tasked with protecting The Chosen One. Roping in others to aid you in your own, comparably minuscule toils would have stood in quiet opposition to your title’s purpose.

Yes. You were convinced. You’d find a solution some other way.

Anyways, addressing your mind’s inner facets was only a small strand in the meadow of free time that had laid at your fingertips. You also took an appreciable advantage of the interim to explore your new home— The Jedi Temple.

You recalled finding it somewhat overwhelming, the Temple’s colossal model, constructed piece-by-piece over thousands of years with the building blocks of Jedi evolution and spirituality. But, in spite of its sweeping presence, you felt uninhibited to tour each nook and cranny like the labyrinth it was.

You’d encountered many Jedi this way, all in various training dojos, halls, gardens, and other, more secluded, areas as they too took advantage of the passing days to train, meditate, or study. It was actually how you, twice, inadvertently ran into Anakin and Ahsoka, during these cursory, investigative stints. Once, while they were in the midst of a spar, and the other, amid one of Anakin’s on-the-fly lessons about the reality of the battlefield.

Sitting here in this rumbling, Starfighter’s primary gunner cockpit, you had to admit that you were really delighted when you saw them like this. Working as Master and Padawan in their own, unique way. It proved to you that Anakin was taking his Mastership more seriously.

You remembered how he’d expressed to you his hesitancy with being assigned a Padawan last week as the two of you strolled down one of the Temple’s many walkways in search of an empty training room. Though you were not surprised, as it was something that you already learned from Obi-Wan, who had complained about this very issue to you over one of your evening meals. A plate of hawk-bat eggs, if you recalled correctly. He cited to you the young Jedi’s reluctance to attend several of Ahsoka’s training remote sessions, which, according to Master Kenobi, was an important, reoccurring exercise prescribed to all Padawans.

Separately, you’d happened to already know how the Jedi Order historically drove responsibility into its members. It was not just via off-world missions or Knighthood trials, but through the combined experience of guiding the young with one’s own expertise. Qui-Gon often mentioned how his mentorship years morphed him into the wise and capable man you’d known him to be. And you didn’t believe either that Anakin was immune to such windows into maturity.

So, at that moment, with the protesting, chestnut-haired Jedi strolling inches from your side, you were sure to remind the irresolute man that they wouldn’t have given him that duty had they not believed him to be ready.

“Now you’re starting to sound like Obi-Wan.” He huffed, crossing his arms as you both continued your brisk saunter. “I’m just not meant to have a Padawan!”

You eyed the insistent Jedi soberly. “Anakin, I’ll tell you one thing. For someone who I know hopes to grow as a Jedi, you certainly seem to tie your own feet together when the perfect opportunities to do so present themselves.”

That conversation must’ve knocked a bolt loose in that rigid mind of his, you supposed, after seeing with your own eyes his efforts to do more as her Master in the days that followed.

And that included today. In this bulky, ARC-170 Starfighter. The inspiration for Anakin’s decision to kill two buzzbirds with one stone.

After admitting to your limited, hands-on piloting experience over that same dinner you’d ended early the night before, Anakin posed the brilliant idea of teaching you himself. A proposition you’d have had better luck turning down had he not already been planning to take Ahsoka out into the exosphere to deliver his own set of ad-hoc tutorials.

If you could even call it that.

According to him, all he had to do was reserve a different Starfighter class and the three of you would be good to go. So, you accepted, hoping all the way up until you entered the secondary cockpit that maybe Anakin had a preplanned lesson that wouldn’t end in infamy.

That was, of course, until the actual flying started.

Refocusing your attention to continue inspecting the gunner controls to your right, you soon found greater ease in probing the laser canons’ maneuverability with time. In fact, you were able to quite quickly understand this new model’s updated variations, and how those tied into its modernized combative functions. This was most transparent earlier at the flight’s start, when, after a short brief from Anakin, you were comfortable enough to trigger the fighter’s new S-foil wing system, a state-of-the-art feature which supposedly allowed for greater heat dispersion between the ship’s engines and canons in high-speed situations.

Yes, you lacked the heuristic flying and gunner skills, but your studies on Hoth were not for naught. You had long ago memorized the user-based functionalities of older starships. Its parts, controls, functions, and capabilities, employing your own shelter as a dissectible specimen to fuel your understanding. So, while you didn’t have Anakin’s piloting experience or dexterity, you were still rather capable of exercising that garnered knowledge to pick up parallel operations fairly quickly.

It was also why, in reaching hour two of Anakin’s lesson, his sporadic, step-by-step sputterings of how and when he engaged elementary control functions did little to quench your parched alacrity.

So, you broke the silence.

“So…when are the gunners gonna become pilots?” You asked, both on your and Ahsoka’s behalf.

“You think you’re ready to take the reins?” Anakin raised, a hint of playfulness echoing behind the occasional pop of the radioed voice in your ear.

You smirked. “Only one way to find out.”

Just as you finished, a small, yellow window blinked open at the top of your screen. You briskly scanned it, recognizing the primary controls transfer confirmation request before gingerly tapping accept.

In half a second, the flight computer once shrouded in darkness directly in front of you flickered to life. It began by displaying various levels of system readiness in navy blue text on the left. Shield artillery, forward and aft stability, among others. On the opposite side shone the fighter’s coordinate plane, a graphed image depicting the ship’s location based on immediate surroundings that were divided by orange, sectional rings.

They all buzzed to life in conjunction with a control panel of glowing, kaleidoscopic buttons, switches, and several familiar levers, their color-coded rings now steadily blinking a range of unnatural reds, blues, and yellows by your fingertips.

“Let’s see what you got,” Anakin crackled through.

You hummed in concentration while wrapping a set of fingers around the navigation lever, feeling its give as you put your other hand to work adjusting the bird’s speed parameters on the animated control panel. Once the specifications were fixed, you lifted your head back toward the speckled darkness of space, gently nudging the lever forward to dip the fighter.

And you sensed the change immediately.

The modest pressure of your back suddenly tugging to the rear support infused your fingertips with dawning excitement. You pulled the lever toward you with greater confidence now in the directional shift, sensing the variation in the fighter’s ascent while absorbing your first taste of the craft’s feel, as well as its movement’s interaction with the Force.

Before long, your certainty swelled further, stirring you to twist the rapidly scaling fighter into a backward loop while listening to the metal grunt merrily around you.

Despite swiftly finishing that circle, you were reticent to give the bird a moment to rest. Instead, you directed the Starfighter to climb once more, adjusting the panel controls for a hammerhead descent. Even now, in this rapid ascent, you body still prickled at the fighter’s consistency with the imputed speed adjustments as you neared the desired pivot point.

Then, you felt it.

That minute weightlessness that commanded you to yank the navigational lever to the right, bringing the ship into another sharp, controlled dive for a few seconds before leveling it off into a normal flight pattern.

“Not bad,” Anakin began. “But those little tricks aren’t gonna do much good on the battlefield.”

“It’s not like we have any battle droids for target practice,” Ahsoka commented. “Or anything to train in defending against.”

She had a point, you considered inwardly.

But if your time on a deserted planet taught you anything, it was that even the most resourceless locales could be molded into an advantage.

“And isn’t this a clone ship?” She continued.

You glanced around at your surroundings beyond the compact cockpit as their conversation reigned unabated, hoping to catch sight of anything that could be put to use as you stuck to the fighter’s default flight path programmed to circulate Coruscant’s outer edge.

“Yeah,” Anakin irritatedly drew. “But it was the only model that could fit three beings. It’s similar enough to the Delta-7s anyways.”

A sudden, protesting flurry of high-pitched, sundry beeps sloped in pitch from your headset, but still failed to draw your preoccupied glare away from its scan of the region.

Though it did precipitate a sigh in the blue-eyed Jedi

“Sorry, Artoo. Three beings, and a droid.”

Then, you spotted it.

A few hundred kilometers to your right floated a scattered array of tiny meteors, traveling in an undefined shape at an imperceptible speed. Far enough away from Coruscant to avoid accidental atmospheric entry, and small enough to avoid causing any real damage to a fighter with as heavy shielding as this one.

“I may have a solution to that,” you voiced while veering the Starfighter’s nose toward the crumbly assemblage of hickory brown space rocks.

“Let’s hear it!” Ahsoka eagerly exclaimed, having had little else to do but listen to Anakin’s instructions in the rear gunner pod for the last few hours.

“You see that up ahead?” You asked, nodding to the nonspecific structure before remembering that your companions couldn’t see you.

“The meteors?” Anakin questioned.

You cognitively hummed, the formation expanding as the fighter quickly neared its destination.

“Nope,” you popped. “That, is an enemy starship.” You asserted. “Anakin, how’s your object manipulation?”

He scoffed. “Do you even need to ask?”

“Even in space?” You lightly teased, bringing the bird in to perpetually circumnavigate the ruble consortium.

“Especially in space.”

Somehow, you could almost taste his grin through your rumbling headset.

“I’m holding you to that,” you quipped, a small smile slipping by your lips.

Without skipping a beat, you leaned your head back to address Ahsoka. “Master Skywalker here is gonna be our intrepid, enemy gunner.”

You gesticulated toward the backdrop. “These rocks are his ammo. I’ll be the primary pilot, and, Ahsoka, you’re my gunner. Oh! And Artoo?”

You glanced up at the droid’s blue and white head, peeking out from his secured cavity in the center of a divider wall that separated you and Ahsoka.

“Do try to keep Anakin from accidentally destroying our way home.”

The droid buzzed in a rising chime of inspirited affirmation as his head danced into a spin.

“Don’t worry, Artoo,” Ahsoka reassured while the air of your cabin flooded with the fizzing whir of her dorsal canon elevating. “Silvey and I will make sure you don’t have much work to do.”

“It seems I must teach you a lesson in speaking too soon, my young Padawan,” Anakin sassed.

“Alright,” you interjected, keeping an eye on the meteor cluster to your left. “The battle starts now.”

“Let’s have it.”

Just as those final words fluttered from your dried lips, a fluctuation in the hovering mass caught your eye. You centered your vision, catching a knot of nearly twenty rocks assembling into a spearhead formation near the crowd’s outer rim. That was, before, without notice, those jagged rocks sharply launched toward the fighter’s closest flank.

“Hold on!” You called out instinctively before bringing the bird down into a sudden plunge.

The whizzing meteor configuration rushed after the Starfighter’s tail, giving Ahsoka the prime latitude to start shooting down the shard-like projectiles with the zapping hiss of her maneuverable canon.

While Anakin’s Padawan sustained her calculated assault on the cluster’s center bludgeoners, you, however, were beginning to sense a hairsplitting breakaway in their diving formation. Intending to investigate this further, you glanced at the coordinate plane to the right of your screen. There, you soon spotted two chaotic bundles of flashing red dots, rapidly approaching either wing at a speed that doubled their blinking rate.

This discovery was, naturally, followed by the occasional, yet abruptly swelling, clangs of eluding debris that bounced off the bird’s aft. Thankfully, Artoo was at the ready, already working to readjust the deflector shields to the rear as he emitted an arrangement of disapproving, bellowed beeps.

“I’m doing my best, Artoo!” Ahsoka droned.

You, on the other hand, were keeping careful attention on those threatening, crimson flecks. So much so, that your grip on the throttle mindlessly tightened as they relentlessly inched and inched ever so closer.

But you waited, relaying their distance internally from the screen’s navigation display as you formulated a plan on the fly.

100 meters…50 meters…15 meters.

This should work.

You wrenched the lever to the right, hard, bringing the fighter into a sudden tilt. The wings parked at 12 and 6 o’clock as the rocks once speedily approaching each end blindly whizzed over your head and by the ship’s belly.

You paused here for only a moment, permitting the last pebble to zoom past before righting the fighter.

Now, having brought the environment back into a gradual equilibrium, you’d believed the fore was secure enough for you to address the swelling pummeling you were receiving from behind. So you stretched your neck back, expecting to momentarily check in with Ahsoka’s progress.

But in that ever so brief twist away from the viewport, you just as suddenly sensed some whirlwind convergence in the path of the bird’s nose.

Having spun around, eyes searching, you were soon able to abruptly spy those same, once-dodged clusters presently returning with newfound vengeance.

“Anakin…” you chided, taking the fighter into another evading dip. “Last time I checked, laser bolts can’t redirect themselves.”

“These are…special laser bolts,” The Chosen One brightly justified as his dual-speared formations endured an unforgiving swoop and approach.

You huffed, once more returning to the panel to readjust the speed parameters before taking the ship up again in hopes of shaking these ‘Silvey-seeking lasers.’

The next twenty or so minutes of this little, spontaneous exercise protracted more of the same. Ahsoka primarily handled all the aft attacks. And any time a knot of projectiles came whistling toward the fighter’s flanks or fore, you retained a calculated quickness in twisting, looping, or diving away to elude the enemy.

You did this especially well when, at some point, Anakin guided his mineral minions into another full-frontal attack. With minimal latency, you rolled the ship into a small curve, swiftly pointing its tail at the hastily advancing masses so that Ahsoka could take over, all in an effort to tighten these battle-necessary skills.

It was all fun and games, of course, until Artoo erupted into a fit of jangling chirps, which you altogether roughly interpreted as a plea to pause.

It was in those following moments that, you too, started to notice the crater-like burrows that speckled the ship’s hull and nose, its cherry red, warpaint bands unreasonably chipped, and its canon arms dented.

And you could only imagine what the aft looked like.

It was clear that the three of you had certainly given this Starfighter a thorough beating.

“Sorry buddy,” you replied while gradually levying the ship to a standstill.

You assumed Anakin had also received the memo as the previously merciless bombardment of space debris clusters stalled like sleeping statues around you, blanketing back into the natural confines of the surrounding white-speckled vacuum.

“Guess the drill got away from us,” you continued, bringing up the command controls transfer menu on your screen before programming it to relay all functions to the main cockpit.

You endured in the same breath, powering down the canon engines with a deflated huff. “If you need any help with the repairs, my hands are yours.”

No matter his noticeable frustrations, the astromech must have still appreciated the offer as your headset swiftly resounded with spirited whistles of gratitude.

“Okay,” Anakin uttered, the secondary pilot screen, panel, and levers before you dimming back into the blackness of your cabin with a depleted drone as he accepted the changeover. “One more thing I want to try before we rotate positions.”

Your attentiveness toward Skywalker’s words was short-lived, however, as an unexpected, shrill blare resounded throughout your suffocating compartment.

“Um,” Ahsoka emitted.

Instinctively, you glanced at the single active interface to your right, only to register a flashing red warning plastered above the primary gunner controls. Then, just seconds into your efforts to detect the source, a female voice spilled into the exposed space, parroting the same admonition flashing before your eyes from interior speakers.

“Uh, Anakin?” You articulated, staring at the now, decidedly visible safety warning. “Why are you suppressing the inertial dampeners?”

“I want to test the terminal rotational velocity of this new model before it’s dispatched to my battalion,” he nonchalantly explained.

You peeked down at his cockpit, registering the ever-shifting essence of the back of his head as he seemingly prepped the ship for whatever stunt was next on the agenda.

“Isn’t that what the piloting screen’s for?” Ahsoka challenged. “To give you those numbers?”

“Yes,” he muttered, annoyed. “But I can’t get a good feel for its real maneuverability with the dampeners at max.”

“I don’t think I’m gonna like this,” you breathed while the batting crimson glow of the ship’s safety system dragged on its incessant screech.

“Don’t worry,” Anakin cheered seconds before a thrumming, mechanical purr sounded from either side of the ship. “It’s perfectly safe.”

Your head swiveled toward the hums, enabling you to notice the wings’ X formation slowly collapse into a thicker, horizontal line with a metallic snap.

“I think the warning lady disagrees with you,” Ahsoka deadpanned while Artoo chirped in with jumbled blips of agreement.

You exhaled. “I’m gonna have to jump in on this bandwagon, too, Anakin.”

You reflexively gesticulated to your right.

“Closing the wings will burn us up.”

“Only if the canon engines are on, which you turned off,” he reminded. “Besides, having them open will drag our rotational speed.”

Realizing that his mind was made up, you relented, leaning back into your cushioned backrest as you folded your arms in a mix of apprehension and quiet protest.

Logically, you knew Anakin was a talented pilot. But in the short time you’d known him, he always seemed to be one switch away from a reckless decision that couldn’t be rescinded. You could only rely on the Force to warn you otherwise but, for now, you took comfort instead in mumbling one reoccurring thought aloud.

“I’m gonna regret this.”

“Okay, prepare yourselves,” the blue-eyed Jedi declared as you felt the uniform pull of a Starfighter in motion.

Anakin was not one to dally, you knew that too. But you were also not quite expecting the speed or suddenness with which he instantly accelerated the craft.

Mere meters into the flight, the chestnut-haired Jedi launched the fighter with the momentum of a passionate lightning bolt, driving your entire being to squash back as the sudden force partially flattened your skin and burrowed in between chapped lips and suddenly exposed gums. Your hands shot impulsively out to either side of the cramped cockpit, flattened palms shoving against both engine-warmed walls for some semblance of balance.

But it was no use. The thrill-seeking man continued to drive the bird to newly discovered, exponential speeds.

Mind briefly flickering, you recalled your other Jedi companion while trying to catch your breath. You could only imagine what poor Ahsoka was experiencing on the opposite side of the craft as she was thrust forward by the inverse velocity.

But evidently, none of these worries had crossed Anakin’s mind. Instead, you imagined his eyes’ were thinly focused on the speedometer as he sensed the pulverizing oppressions around him.

That was, you guessed, until he found a tempo that finally suited his rotational needs because just as promptly as he accelerated, the adrenaline-addicted man sharply jerked the Starfighter mid-race into a tight, unyielding roll.

The only word you could use to describe the sensation, was uncanny.

There was something about the way it dragged you from your awareness. The feeling of being simultaneously smashed together and ripped apart across every point of your body not only blurred your vision, but it seemed to draw you far enough away from your senses that you could barely feel the comforting touch of the Force. It was as if it flowed inches from your fingernails, but not close enough to wet them.

Still there, but just out of reach.

Instead, your entire experience centered on the raw rush of a repressive speed’s disconnected passions as the fighter’s rotations puckered.

Then, you felt a familiar twinge rap at your forehead’s center.

You tried to thrust it away, refocusing your attention on the feel of the increasingly searing metal under outstretched fingertips to ground yourself. But even as you did so, a new wave of clamoring throbs smacked you upside the head, blasting you into a new realm of haziness.

You knew the drill. An unpleasant, yet manageable headache like this one was sure to last a long while. The rest of the morning, perhaps, if recent history had any say. But they hadn’t prevented you from addressing more pressing matters. Like those involved with gunning a Starfighter.

Or surviving one of Anakin’s test flights.

At least, not up until this point.

By some means, the keen pulse that was now branching into your sinuses and across the bridge of your nose suddenly developed a more piercing vigor. Each jab increasingly resembled the perforations of a bayonet, as if some invisible force was repeatedly impaling your skull like a pirate digging for lost treasures. Time became relative while your entire dome felt like a massive, gaping wound, unlatched to a world of acidic fingernails that hungrily tunneled through the gash.

You retracted both arms from the cockpit’s flanks, allowing your body to writhe to the rhythms of spinning g-forces as you slammed each flattened palm against the sides of your head. While the agony deepened at a rate comparable to the twisting ship’s bolt, you pressed down on your sinuses, harshly, charged with the secret desire to squeeze out the pain with your brain marching inches behind if need be.

Just as rapidly, you could tell that you were reaching a breaking point in your silent fortitude. With the caliber at which this was worsening, you knew that, very soon, it was going to be too strenuous to keep your involuntary, disturbed vocalizations to a minimum. You couldn’t take it. It was too much.

You just needed it to stop.

You needed everything to stop.

“Stop…” you croaked weakly.

But it was too soft for the headset to register as the fighter continued its twirling trek with no acknowledgment from any passengers.

So you tried again, with just a tad more energy.

“Please, stop…”

Your depleted voice was washed away by the dogged bawl of the earsplitting siren which kept drenching your vision in cycles of cerise.

Another shattering knife ran through your skull with a burning fire that combatted that of the ship’s engines as it steadily milked your eyes for brimming tears.

You gasped.

“Anakin, stop!”

The Starfighter abruptly decelerated, steadily relaxing into a leveled state as the deadening drone of easing engines devolved into a bass grunt.

You welcomed the instantaneous airlessness that invaded your bones and softened your skin as the cabin depressurized. Somehow, in the seconds that followed, it had even given you a momentary burst of vitality, supplying a few seconds for you to reach out to Force’s boundless flow.

Yet, despite quickly intertwining yourself with its reassuring brush, the exquisite ache that racked your head was hardly tempered by the change of pace.

“My bad,” Anakin chuckled lightly. “Got carried away.”

There was nothing you could do to block the shaky breath that trembled past drained lips.

“Silvey?” Anakin questioned stiffly, having seemingly heard your pained exhale.

“What’s wrong?” Ahsoka intently inquired through a headset that truly felt light years away. “Did something happen?”

Out of barely-centered vision, you caught a bushy-haired shape in the main cockpit contort toward your form as a soft voice invaded your ears.

“Hey, are you…?”

“I think it’s time for Ahsoka to take my place,” you shoved out, gravelly voice nearly betraying you before you relented, resting your eyelids in a temporary rest.

Taglist

@js-favnanadoongi

@panandinpain0

@randomwriter435

@soleywoley

@burnthecheshirewitch

[tamapalace]

Tamagotchi Booth at San Diego Comic-Con 2023

image source: marketinggenome on Instagram

San Diego Comic-Con 2023 is part of the World Tamagotchi Tour that Bandai is on following the global release of the Tamagotchi Uni. This is also the first event to kickoff the World Tamagotchi Tour in North America. Bandai Namco US did NOT disappoint, as the Tamagotchi booth was gorgeous!

image source: ABC 10News San Diego

First, per usual the booth was built by Marketing Genome, a display manufacture who has made Bandai’s booths for several years and really do an awesome job!

image source: Coffretchi on Twitter

The first thing you see is a large Tamagotchi Original, like you did last year, with a screen inside playing the promotional video of the Tamagotchi Original. This year the shell is Mametchi Spaceship, if you like it enough then you could buy it! The Tamagotchi Original is mounted on a large box, and the front of the box’s design is actually on the back of the display.

As you move to the left you’ll see the theme this year is all about space, Mimitchi is shown in an out of space background where the line is formed for visitors to make purchases. The iconic Tamagotchi UFO is featured at the top and center of the Tamagotchi booth, remember when it dropped off those Tamagotchi’s in the Tamagotchi Uni teaser videos?

Then you’ve got the Tamagotchi Uni photo op, which is a large Tamagotchi Uni in pink with a cutout screen surrounded by statues of both Mametchi and Kuchipatchi, and there’s even a cute backdrop too!

image source: anzfalcon on Instagram

Behind the Photo Booth is the Tamagotchi Original wall which features a picture from the latest photoshoot and these circular frames which each hold a Tamagotchi Uni inside, the frames are in blue, pink, and green, and honestly are really stylish.

After the Tamagotchi Original section, you’ve got the collaboration section which is also on the walls. Bandai pretty much brought every collaboration including Star Wars R2-D2, Grogu, Demon Slayer, Jujutsu Kaiden, Toy Story, Spy x Family, Harry Potter, Jurassic World, and TinyTAN.

image source: anzfalcon on Instagram

On the opposite side of the Tamagotchi Original and Tamagotchi collaboration wall is a display of the new Tamagotchi Uni which is in a showcase with lights on it. Both Purple and Pink shells are displayed, along both wristbands and lanyards which were available for purchase. The Tamagotchi Uni showcase is displayed on a white podium surrounded by a Tamaverse backdrop.

Visitors spent time waiting in line for the shop which as art the booth were they could purchase so many exclusive items, including the convention exclusive Tamagotchi Original shells, and the new Tamagotchi Uni, along with Tamagotchi Uni accessories that have yet to be released!

image source: marketinggenome on Instagram

Tamagotchi Uni buyers were also given one Tama Sticker with a 16-digit download code! The three Tama Stickers are UFO Hat, Tama Tour Flag, and Tama Tour Rainbow.

image source: anzfalcon on Instagram

All purchases were accommodated by a World Tamagotchi Tour reusable bag, and a World Tamagotchi Tour pin! How cute is that?

image source: Coffretchi on Twitter

To everyone’s surprise, Mametchi made several surprise appearances! The fans went wild, and Mametchi was available to take pictures with, dance with, and even just admire. Mametchi was such a hit that several appearances were made throughout each day of the convention.

[latinaturkonline]

500 likes!

This super cool Blog at Tumblr is my second chance at mostly listening to music 🎵 The first time way over a year ago my cell phone fell on my foot and sustained a terrible ow-wee. It's been over two years and I recently reinjured that same foot, sent to hospital on an ambulance 🚑 and that ride was so bumpy as they took me back to hospital. I am now recovering at home . Take care people watch out for falling 📱 s they can damage your 🦶. Go check out my friends on Twitter.

[justforbooks]

The production designer and art director Norman Reynolds, who has died aged 89, concealed a career in Hollywood blockbusters by telling people he made biscuits for a living. In fact, he played an integral role in bringing to fruition two of the most successful franchises in cinema history. As art director in a team that also included the production designer John Barry, his fellow art director Leslie Dilley and the set decorator Roger Christian, Reynolds helped create the Oscar-winning look of the original Star Wars (1977), which was simultaneously spectacular and lived-in. The impression it gave was of a future that had seen better days.

Hired just before Christmas 1975, Reynolds started work only tentatively until the studio gave the green light to this risky project a few months later. Like everyone involved in the movie, he was often asked whether he had any inkling that it was going to change cinema forever. “Most of us, if I’m brutally frank, were just glad to be working,” he said in 2016. “Nobody had any idea that it was going to be the success that it is.” The realisation began to dawn on him as he watched the director George Lucas shooting the robots C-3PO and R2-D2 as they trundled through the desert in Tunisia. “I thought, ‘This is special. This could be something extraordinary.’”

His services were retained for the first two Star Wars sequels, The Empire Strikes Back (1980) and Return of the Jedi (1983). On the former picture, indisputably the most impressive of the series, his responsibilities included designing the vast freezing chamber, illuminated with bars of orange light and wreathed in smoke, where Han Solo, played by Harrison Ford, is put into suspended animation at the end of the film. Its director Irvin Kershner, who was initially flummoxed when presented with Reynolds’s bold, wall-less blueprints, called it “the best set in the movie”.

Also memorable was the putrid swamp planet of Dagobah, where Luke Skywalker (Mark Hamill) receives instruction in the mystical Force from the wizened, gnome-like, pint-sized guru Yoda (Frank Oz). For this dank set, Reynolds flooded the studio floor, planted large quantities of the climbing vine known as old-man’s beard, and had the dry ice machine working overtime.

In Lucas’s capacity as co-creator and executive producer of Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981), the first in the Indiana Jones series of adventures paying homage to Saturday morning cliffhanger serials, he recommended Reynolds to the film’s director Steven Spielberg. Among his designs was the priceless statue that causes so much trouble in the prologue—for this, Reynolds painted and modified a souvenir found at an airport gift shop in Mexico – as well as the oversized boulder which almost flattens Jones (Ford again), and the cobwebbed, dilapidated jungle temple through which it rolls at great speed.

“We were a bit short of preparation time, and everyone was running all the time,” he recalled. “We were all swept along. All that came out in the film somehow, it had a freshness to it.” Raiders brought him his second Oscar, as well as his only Bafta, both shared with Dilley and Michael D Ford.

Reynolds was born in London, and studied at art college. His path into films came unexpectedly via a job at a company making illuminated signs. Following a commission to supply signs for The Road to Hong Kong (1962), the sixth and final instalment in the Road to … series of capers starring Bob Hope, Bing Crosby and Dorothy Lamour, he visited Shepperton Studios and was “gobsmacked” by the sets he encountered there. “I was totally hooked, and determined to get into the film industry.”

A year later, he landed a design job at Elstree working on the comedy Come Fly with Me (1963), which was shot largely on a plane inside the studio, with “big puffy clouds made of cotton wool” suspended all around. “I felt that I’d found what I wanted to do,” he said. He then worked for two years on the long-running television series The Saint, starring Roger Moore, before being hired for the James Bond film Thunderball (1965).

He did uncredited art design work on The Battle of Britain (1969) and was assistant art director on Phase IV (1974), Saul Bass’s science-fiction horror film about killer ants. After the success of Star Wars, Reynolds was appointed art director on two further blockbusters, Superman The Movie (1978) and Superman II (1981), and production designer on the disturbing, inventive Wizard of Oz sequel Return to Oz (1985), an undeserved box-office flop.

As executive producer, Spielberg brought him on board for Young Sherlock Holmes (also 1985), directed by Barry Levinson, for which Reynolds built a version of late-19th-century London at Elstree studios, including a frozen replica of parts of the Thames; he also found locations at Eton college, Belvoir Castle in Grantham and Radley college, Oxford. He worked with Spielberg again on the director’s adaptation of JG Ballard’s autobiographical novel Empire of the Sun (1987), set in China during and immediately after the second world war.

Later films included David Fincher’s debut, Alien 3 (1992), with its striking mix of the industrialised and the medieval, and Brian De Palma’s high-tech, big-screen reboot of Mission: Impossible (1996) with Tom Cruise.

Reynolds’s final screen credit was for Bicentennial Man (1999), which starred Robin Williams as a robot who develops human emotions. It was not his most satisfying experience, since he felt that the director Chris Columbus concentrated most of his own energies on the performers and little on the visual elements – a bitter pill to swallow for a man who once called the set “the unspeaking actor”.

He is survived by his wife, Ann, and their three children.

🔔 Norman Reynolds, production designer, born 26 March 1934; died 6 April 2023

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at http://justforbooks.tumblr.com

[manhwalizando]

Star Wars: Curiosidades Aleatórias que Todo Fã Deveria Saber

Olá, galáxia distante! Sejam bem-vindos a mais um episódio do nosso programa, onde exploramos o universo de Star Wars. Hoje, prepare-se para mergulhar em algumas curiosidades incríveis sobre essa franquia que conquistou corações ao redor do mundo. Eu sou [seu nome], e neste episódio, vamos revelar segredos e histórias por trás de Star Wars. Vamos começar!

1: A Origem do Sabre de Luz

Sabe esse icônico sabre de luz? Você acreditaria se eu te dissesse que sua origem está ligada a um dispositivo fotográfico? Sim, o designer de produção John Stears usou um flash de uma câmera antiga como base para criar esse efeito visual único. É fascinante como uma simples inspiração se tornou um símbolo tão poderoso em Star Wars.

2: Código-fonte em Star Wars

Prepare-se para uma surpresa nerd! Em uma cena de "O Ataque dos Clones", enquanto Obi-Wan está investigando os clones, é possível ver trechos de código-fonte de um programa de DNA na tela. Uma pequena referência que certamente agrada aos fãs mais atentos.

3: Os Ewoks quase falaram inglês

Você já se perguntou como os adoráveis Ewoks se comunicavam? Bem, inicialmente, eles estavam planejados para falar inglês. Mas George Lucas decidiu que eles teriam uma linguagem própria. Os sons dos Ewoks foram criados combinando vocais de animais, como ursos e guinchos de lontras. É uma língua única que adiciona um toque especial à sua fofura.

4: O Retorno do Jedi

Sabia que o título original do terceiro filme da trilogia original era "Revenge of the Jedi" (A Vingança do Jedi)? Porém, pouco antes do lançamento, George Lucas decidiu alterá-lo para "Return of the Jedi" (O Retorno do Jedi). Ele sentiu que "vingança" não era um traço adequado para os Jedi, que buscam a paz e a harmonia. Uma mudança sutil, mas significativa.

5: Nomes inspirados

Muitos dos nomes cativantes em Star Wars têm uma história interessante por trás. Por exemplo, o nome "Han Solo" foi uma homenagem ao cineasta Han Nolan. Já o sobrenome "Skywalker" foi inspirado no cineasta Douglas Trumbull, apelidado de "Skywalker". É incrível como pequenos detalhes têm grandes significados na criação desses personagens.

6: A história por trás de R2-D2 e C-3PO

Sabe aqueles dois robôs adoráveis, R2-D2 e C-3PO? Eles foram originalmente planejados para serem personagens secundários, mas sua popularidade os elevou ao status de protagonistas. Eles conquistaram o coração dos fãs com sua química única e suas aventuras hilárias. Não é incrível como algo que começou como um papel menor se tornou tão icônico?

7: O segredo do som do sabre de luz

Ah, o som inconfundível do sabre de luz! Você sabia que ele foi criado combinando o som de um motor de projetor antigo com o zumbido de um tubo de televisão antigo? Ben Burtt, o designer de som, utilizou essa combinação para criar um som icônico que acompanha cada luta de sabre de luz. É uma verdadeira sinfonia para os nossos ouvidos!

8: Princesa Leia e Jabba the Hutt

Uma das cenas mais marcantes de "O Retorno de Jedi" é quando a corajosa Princesa Leia se torna escrava de Jabba the Hutt. Mas você sabia que a atriz Carrie Fisher teve que suportar o desconforto de usar uma fantasia de metal pesada sob as luzes quentes do set de filmagem? Mesmo assim, ela entregou uma performance inesquecível, mostrando sua força e determinação.

E aí está! Espero que você tenha apreciado essas curiosidades fascinantes sobre Star Wars tanto quanto eu. A franquia nos surpreende com tantos detalhes interessantes que nos permitem mergulhar ainda mais no universo criado por George Lucas. Lembre-se de compartilhar suas próprias curiosidades e opiniões nos comentários abaixo. Que a Força esteja com você!

[ao3feed-obikin]

A Deity of the Force

read it on the AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/46455772 by Ch3wi3 Following a devastating attack made by the newly dubbed Empire, Knight Kenobi--along with atromech droid R2D2--seeks refuge in a long abandoned Jedi outpost. Within the abandoned temple resides, what Obi-Wan believes to be, stone memorials of bygone Jedi Masters. Overnight one of these statues comes to life. One Anakin Skywalker. Will Anakin meet expectations? Or will he disappoint? ... This is an AU in which Obi-Wan never met Anakin because he was born centuries before Obi-Wan himself. Not much is different otherwise. Anakin is still Anakin. Obi-Wan is still Obi-Wan. Order-66 still happens and the results are still tangible. Words: 1521, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Fandoms: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy Rating: Not Rated Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi & R2-D2 Additional Tags: Droid Rights (Star Wars), Jedi Code (Star Wars), Misunderstandings, Post-Order 66 (Star Wars) read it on the AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/46455772

[enigma-absolute]

Cosmos, Lotus, and Poppy for the flower ask game, if you're still doing it!

Cosmos - what’s the best compliment you’ve ever received? Who was it from?

While I have attempted to answer it here (and still can’t give a whole one honestly), there have been others which are really sticking in my mind atm, both from the long and short-term.

Long-term: In a conversation with another believer friend in 2022, she heard from the Lord and relayed to me in the moment, and it even ended up being the source of inspiration for my current url. “You are an enigma of My absolute delight.”

(I personally hope I never stop being an enigma, honestly. Who wants to fit in a box anyway?)

Short-term: I’d been talking with a coworker expressing some concerns about one of the students I teach in class today, but she reassured me that it was fine, and the fact that I was able to have such a good rapport with the student in question was a rarity, so it was nothing to worry about. The relief I’m knowing I’m not screwing up is. Well, you get it.

Lotus - what is your favourite colour and in what shade?

BLUE.

More specifically, it’s the kind of blues you’d expect to see in the ocean, but also fit right at home in space too. R2-D2 blue. The sky is not black but navy blue. The light of a star through said sky kind of blue.

This kind of blue. It’s perfect.

Poppy - out of the four seasons, which season of the year is your favourite and why?

Good question - because of my status as someone who’s lived in the southern hemisphere for all my life and only been to the Northern hemisphere in the spring/summer seasons on *their* ends, they all have different connotations to me compared to most people Generally Online.

I don’t associate Autumn with Halloween, for instance, because of it. It’s just ‘oh costume season huh?’ because it’s spring turning into VERY warm summer here on my end. June-July-August aren’t summer to me, they’re the coldest part of the year and feed into my excitement to get back into layering my clothes up. I really do wanna have a white snowy Christmas at some point in my life, but when New Zealand’s mountain ranges are too warm for snow and Australia literally has surfing Santa as part of the usual marketing, grilling at a barbecue with the Hottest Temperatures to Become A Human Kebab In, good luck to me dreaming of said white Christmas when it’s sand, surf and MELTING.

That being said, I think I still enjoy my different perspective on the seasons. Autumn in the second quarter of the year looking like cozy vibes you don’t really get anywhere else, certainly not in the states. Winter in the middle of the year reminds us that we’ll get through it all somehow, despite the cold. Spring signifying the end of the main uni year (if you’re not someone taking trimester 3) and finals about to be over. Summer meaning the biggest break, the school holidays running in and the very physical reminder that despite all its rough patches, the first days of the New Year are bound to be bright, warm and sunny, just like they were in the end of the old one. That it’s a miracle to have the sun shining down brightly, you can get out of the house and run around having adventures in shorts and a t-shirt.

And personally for me, as someone who was born in that last one, it means a new lease on life being granted, knowing that the gifts of the Christmas just passed aren’t the only ones alone, and there’s bound to be more incoming.

For all the spite I have against summer, I don’t think I’d trade my ‘slip slop slap’ of a shirt, sunscreen and hat for any of the other seasons. I’ll sweat like hell, but that’s what cold water is for.

[comment-exchange]

343. [Podfic] It’s treason, then. (Star Wars)

Title: [Podfic] It’s treason, then. 

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55926793 

Platform: AO3 

Creator: Flowerparrish 

Work Type: Podfic 

Fandom: Star Wars 

Rating: T 

Pairing: Bail Organa & R2D2

Length: 13:55 

Warnings: murder, major villain character death

Number of comments: 2 

Completion Status: complete 

Short summary/description: R2-D2 and Bail Organa realise that their only option is to kill the Chancellor. R2 might be slightly more enthusiastic about this than Bail is, but Bail isn’t going to let the man harm another Corrie ever again. 

[sw5w]

General?!

STAR WARS EPISODE I: The Phantom Menace 01:43:05

[poetsalchemy]

woah! was that PADMÉ AMIDALA walking down main street? i heard they’re not actually from ivy cove but come from STAR WARS. they’re 25 and live in GLEN OAK HEIGHTS but watch out because they can be NAIVE + ANXIOUS but are actually DIPLOMATIC + GENEROUS. despite them HAVING memories, you’ll always think of AN OPEN MEADOW AND A CLEAR SKY, THE SUN ON YOUR SKIN, FACE-FRAMING CURLS, & LIGHT ACADEMIA when imagining them. ( camila morrone, she/her )

[ * THE BASICS ! ]

NAME:  padmé amidala naberrie.

NICKNAME(S):  senator amidala.

ALIAS(ES):  n/a.

SPECIES:  human (naboo).

BIRTHDAY:  46 BBY.

BIRTHPLACE:  naboo.

PAST RESIDENCE(S):  coruscant.

CURRENTLY RESIDING:  glen oak heights, ivy cove.

LIVING SITUATION:  a large home that she (previously assumed) was inherited from a family member — 5 bedrooms, 4 1/2 bathrooms.

GENDER IDENTITY: cis woman, she/her.

SEXUALITY:  heterosexual.

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: married? single?

ETHNICITY:  argentinian, russian, ashkenazi jewish.

FACE CLAIM:  camila morrone.

OCCUPATION: curator at a local art museum, painter.

MEMORIES: padmé remembers everything up until the point that she told anakin she was pregnant — she does not know that she ended up having twins, that anakin ended up turning to the dark side, or of her own death. everything about the details of her fake life have now become hazy. she knows she met and befriended anakin in college, but as far as an actual (fake) family? she can't ever remember having one, after remembering her previous life.

[ * CONNECTIONS ! ]

MOTHER:  jobal naberrie.

FATHER:  ruwee naberrie.

SISTER:  sola naberrie.

SPOUSE/LOVE INTEREST/FRIEND: anakin skywalker.

SHIPS: anakin skywalker or men w/ chemistry.

CHILDREN: leia organa (unknown), luke skywalker (unknown)

GRANDCHILDREN: anakin solo (unknown), ben solo (unknown), jaina solo (unknown), jacen solo (unknown)

FRIENDS: obi-wan kenobi, bail organa, breha organa, c-3PO, R2-D2, more tbd.

[the-time-lord-oracle]

OC Profile: Malia Lars

Full name: Malia Shmi Lars. Date of birth: 19 BBY, Tatooine. Family: Owen Lars ( father, deceased), Beru Lars (mother, deceased), Anakin Skywalker (step-uncle, deceased), Padme Amidala (step-aunt, deceased), Luke Skywalker (cousin), Leia Organa (cousin). Friends: Han Solo, Chewbacca, Lando Calrissian, Wedge Antillies, C-3PO, R2-D2, Biggs Darklighter (deceased). Current position: Commander of Blue Squadron, New Republic Army. Callsigns: Red Eight (Battle of Yavin) Blue Leader (Battle of Endor) Vehicles: Zephyr-G swoop bike, T-16 Skyhopper, T-65 X-wing starfighter, A/SF-01 B-wing starfighter. Skills: Capable of piloting various types of vehicles, good shot with a blaster, brave, loyal and dedicated to the cause. Hogwarts house: Gryffindor. Nicknames: 'Lia (by Luke Skywalkwer and Biggs Darklighter), Angel (by Han Solo). Height: 5'8. Hair colour: dark brown. Eye colour: blue. Face claim: Shelley Hennig. First appearance: A New Hope. Last appearance to date: Return of the Jedi. Status: Alive as of 4 ABY.

[theblotsays]

SDCC 2023 Exclusive Star Wars R2-D2 Droid Factory Edition Jumbo Vintage Kenner Action Figure by Gentle Giant Ltd

Check out this killer San Diego Comic-Con 2023 Exclusive Star Wars R2-D2 Droid Factory Edition Jumbo Vintage Kenner Action Figure by Gentle Giant Ltd! For the first time ever, Gentle Giant Ltd is releasing a replica of Star Wars’ beloved astromech droid inspired by the vintage 1979 Droid Factory set. Measuring approximately 7” tall, this SDCC 2023 Exclusive Star Wars R2-D2 Droid Factory Edition Jumbo Figure comes with a removable third leg. This limited edition figure comes packaged in a full-color box and is limited to just 500 pieces. Collectors can purchase this statue at the Diamond Select Toys SDCC booth for $80. http://dlvr.it/Ss50VV

[gardengremlin]

Woke up not feeling rested at all. I was dreaming weird random shit all night, and I even still remember part of it. Like offering on a huge-ass R2-D2 figure from someone (which makes zero sense in itself, I'm not even that much into Star Wars), and suddenly the R2-D2 statue was instead a motorcycle helmet?? Why??

I also woke up all sweaty and Idk why. I didn't eat spicy yesterday and I don't think my blanket is too thick? Maybe I need to turn down the heaters a little Idk. Not sure if work is internally stressing me out again.

[princesssarcastia]

Obi-Wan somehow, some way, manages to get them all to Bail Organa's secret medical station, where the man himself and Yoda are waiting. This despite the fact that R2 would have been perfectly happy (and if anakin had been awake, much more motivated) to flush Vader out the air lock. It's frankly the greatest test of his diplomatic skills yet, considering he's firing on like one-and-a-half cylinders right now.

Drags them there and then IMMEDIATELY realizes it was a mistake...assuming he wants Anakin to live. Because no one else does.

Yoda? Sent Obi-Wan after Anakin to kill him. Stop him, sure, but under the impression that the only way to stop him is to kill him; and under the impression that no matter Obi-Wan's protestations to the contrary, the man is a jedi first and foremost, and will do his duty.

Uh. Ha ha. Nope.

So now we have:

Lord Vader/Anakin???, still unconscious because I believe without Sidious he wouldn't have healed or woken quite so quickly, still surviving balancing on the head of a pin, with death on all sides beneath him. It's up in the air whether he lives or dies at this point, largely dependent on the people around him, which include the following. Also experiencing a fanatical mental break.

Obi-Wan, who put Vader at death's door but then dragged him back from the threshold. Who stopped him but refused to leave him there OR kill him. Who wants Vader to live but knows he shouldn't, knows his duty to his order (gone) and his dear friend Padmé (dying) and his grandmaster (wants Vader gone) compels him to let Anakin go—but the premise of this AU is that he isn't capable of that. Obi-Wan is having a Bad Time.

Yoda, who also just lived through the genocide of his people, and the end of his way of life as he's known it for the last thousand years, who just got his ass beat by the Sith Lord, who is now dead, dread certain this darkness that has fallen will not lift so easily. Also having a Bad Time, but firing on more cylinders than Obi-Wan. Is sad, for Anakin's fate, but certain it's gotta be death. And is intrigued, by the promise of a new generation in Anakin's children—intrigued, and perhaps increasingly Too invested with every passing moment.

Prince Consort Bail Organa, whose heart breaks for what remains of the Jedi, and for what he's piecing together about his dear friend Padmé's relationship, her forbidden relationship with a Jedi, a Jedi who's fallen and participated in a genocide, a fallen Jedi who just put her in a fucking coma. Is prepared to leave Anakin's fate to what he sees as Anakin's people, unless Padmé has ideas different. Who is also, even now, turning toward the next steps they have to take if they ever want to see this new Empire crumble, and knows Padmé and Obi-Wan both will be necessary for that.

Padmé, who is probably in labor and pretty tied up with that, who is still fucking heart-broken at what's become of Anakin, and who is...probably afraid. Of Anakin. Which isn't helping the heartbreak or the labor, to be honest. But she can sense Anakin is near, and Obi-Wan is here. Obi-Wan will help.

C3PO, who is putting together a nursery for the children, children! How could they not have known it was twins? Oh dear, oh dear, so much to prepare for, so little time. Mistress Padmé will be so upset with the state of things when she is recovered.

R2-D2, who is guarding Padmé's door and monitoring her medical droids and equipment with a gimlet eye, determined that his oldest and dearest friend is going to survived. Monitoring, also, [New Designation:] Vader's status...ready to cut a bitch should he so much as twitch in any direction. Prepared to reach out to Sabé if this nonsense goes on much longer. And sparing time to poke fun at 3PO every few minutes as the idiot faffs about—it's food for the soul in these trying times.

hm. revenge of the sith au where after Obi-Wan cuts Anakin's legs off and lets him burn, he then picks him up off the shores of Mustafar and drags him back to the ship. So it's the road trip from hell, starring:

Obi-wan, distraught, traumatized, cursed to be the adult in the room like always but 1000% less prepared to fulfill that role than normal

Anakin aka Lord Vader, limb-less, burned to a crisp, Sith; unconscious

Padmé, heavily/recently pregnant, distraught, traumatized; unconscious

C-3PO, anxious-but-in-the-way-he's-ALWAYS-anxious

R2-D2, pissed as hell at Anakin for trying to kill Padmé, exasperated at Obi-Wan for being less useful than normal