#the prelude to independence day

[bluefeatheredvelociraptor]

It's my 11 year anniversary on Tumblr 🥳

Oh, noice

[balsamfir-fics]

a hope redefined (prelude)

Genres: angst, post S1 canon, more angst, romance, eventual smut, established childhood crushes to strangers to lovers, post-pining, becoming machine herald (sort of), eventual dad!vik, political tensions, growing up, the human condition

Pairing: Viktor/AFAB Reader

Warnings: series will have eventual smut, mentions of difficult pregnancy/injury/civil war. this prelude mentions spicy activities.

Summary: Viktor shouldn’t be alive.

He shouldn’t have survived the blast of the Council attack, and even if he did his sands of time should have soon run out. And yet here he stands, part man and part machine, in a future he never planned for and an augmented body he never expected to have.

With no template to follow, Viktor forges a new path towards happiness as he grapples with reconciling the man he once was and the man he could become. Complicated as this path may be, he knows better than to waste an opportunity to spend his remaining years with you, the person he’s kept in his heart ever since you were children. Amidst the chaos of an antebellum Runeterra, Viktor finds his freedom, his future, and his family.

Chapters: Prelude

Chapter Word Count: ~1.3k

Author Notes: Unedited. Threequel and final part to a hope never forgotten and a hope at risk. This can be read independently of its predecessors, though reading those first will better contextualize Viktor and YN’s relationship. Previous fics summarized below if you don't have time to read them!

Prequel summary: YN is Heimerdinger’s adopted daughter; YN and Viktor are childhood friends who grew up together between the ages of 10-16 and separated at 16 immediately after an unspoken confession of love. The uncertainty and cowardice of youth prevent YN from keeping contact until twelve years pass. Over the next five years the two keep orbiting each other, gravity pulling them closer, until Viktor’s hospital stint as per Episode 5 forces YN to reckon with their lifetime of love. The end of A Hope Never Forgotten sees Viktor’s seventeen-year-long hope and longing fulfilled.

A Hope at Risk follows canon for episodes 5-9 of Season 1, with some references to LoL lore for post-Season 1 events. Viktor hides his prognosis and the nature of his Hexcore experiments from YN for as long as possible, until his life is in jeopardy after the Council attack and YN finally finds out. YN and Jayce share the decision-making burden in not destroying the Hexcore so that Viktor's life can be saved. Viktor withdraws while processing all of these black-swan events (Hexcore integration, new city of Zaun, his Zaunite and Piltovan identities, etc), but hopes to work through his demons enough to return to YN. In the meantime, he moves to Emberflit Alley in Zaun where he hopes to rebuild who he is and figure out who wants to be.

If missed, the prior work notes that Viktor refers to YN as 'Sparrow' sometimes, which is because he finds her lively and likeable.

This last work refers to Arcane Season 1 canon first and foremost, then interprets post-Season-1 events by incorporating elements from older LoL lore. The majority of this piece will not follow Season 2 canon as it's not out at the time of writing, but Viktor's plotline in this work is written to be as plausible of a Season 2 fan theory as possible.

The first work in this series deals primarily with hope as per the title; the second deals with themes of loss and survival. Both are about decisions made and avoided. This final work reckons with recovery, rebirth, and rebuilding.

Hope, as the past five years has taught Viktor, is not quite the out-of-reach temptress he once believed it was, but rather a willful act of empowerment that even he is entitled to pursue.

It’s a bit of an odd lesson for him. During decades of wanting, but not having, he thought perhaps hope was a thing intended only for others — never him. He now thinks back to those days, remembering his own failure to quell the little flickers he felt, despite what he considered to be careful, methodological, and supposedly fool-proof efforts. How could his sixteen-year-old self, shown blissful perfection for mere minutes before having his heart torn away from him, ever have fathomed that there was something that came after despair? How would he, at 28, know that the little flame of hope he forgot to extinguish would grow to a blaze of success? Even more important — how could he have ever known that a sickly boy from the undercity could be given a second lease on life?

These second chances he never expected to receive (and one, even, that he still struggles with accepting) are the reason he is here today, he reminds himself. And here so happens to be in the arms of your post-coital form, watching as you struggle to calm your breathing. This affirms two things that he thought to be impossibilities: you’re his partner, and he’s — somehow — alive.

Such boons come with their own set of costs, of course. The cool metal of his peculiar augmentations serve as a daily reminder of what he gave up for science, for life, and for society. In part, he surrendered some of his humanity; though he's grateful to live another day in your presence, something that nearly feels sentient lives within him as sustenance. Nevermind the brief euphoria he felt running at the docks; the Hexcore might be a curse, he thinks, but it saved his life. In other ways, he lost control over his moral sensibilities; the breaths he’s allowed to take now were given to him against his consent, and the corrupted Hexcore remains, undestroyed, within him. Skye’s life was taken by the very thing keeping him in the mortal realm, and he endures the guilt of her death with every second his life goes on longer than hers.

He’s spent the greater part of the past few weeks in agony, mostly of the emotional sort as the foreign, willful hum of the Hexcore inside him makes quick work of healing his most severe injuries. Tormented by his conscience, his fear, and a profound sense of losing himself, Viktor knows he’s made a series of hurtful decisions to part from his entire family in Piltover. He knows that some of these relationships will have seen their heyday and may be beyond repair — not for lack of effort, but by the predicament of the turbulent political climate created in the aftermath of the Council attack. But such efforts must be taken one step at a time, one person at a time. Fixated on working on himself so that he might stand by you as his full self and not a broken, conflicted version, he furiously set plans in motion no matter his uncertainty. At his first sign of some satisfactory progress (to his standards), he allowed himself the small luxury of reaching out to you. He’d intended to only start a conversation, hoping to restore the full effect of your relationship as best as one might during a powder keg of a political situation. At most he’d expected that you might see each other in a few months to a year after letting letters and counseling do the work of rebuilding.

Naturally, you (fearless, fearless you, Viktor thinks) showed up on his doorstep at first chance instead. He would never complain, but after two nights of your warmth in his bed and the impossible pleasure of your daily company, the worries that prevented him from seeing you earlier seep back in.

As if you can sense his rising anxiety, you stir against him now after having come back down to Terra. He smiles at the dazed, incomprehensible murmur you make with your lips against his bare shoulder. You ease him, somewhat, but the kernel of worry remains. Viktor presses kisses to the top of your head. You tighten your arms around him, blinking back into reality under the dim Zaunite glow that filters into his bedroom.

“It’s still early,” he hums. “I’m sorry I woke you for…” (You raise your eyebrows knowingly, pressing naked self into him more intently). Viktor elects to finish his sentence carefully. “…For certain activities.” He coughs, making you smile at the dichotomy of his bashfulness after rather intense morning spent with his face between your legs. “You should get some more rest.”

Never one to be told what to do, you frown slightly, then prop yourself into an elbow. But Viktor is adamant you take care of your health (never mind that he’s notoriously bad at doing the same for himself), especially in these polluted depths. Pulling you to the washroom for the loo and a quick rinse, he then leads you back into his small bed for a few more hours of shut-eye. Later when he tries to wake you for a tardy breakfast, he chuckles at the trail of dried saliva you hurriedly wipe away — at least it’s a strong indication that you’re able to sleep soundly despite the constant bustle in the streets of Zaun. His small unit is a far cry from the sweeping wings of the Heimerdinger Estate that you’re accustomed to, and it’s still much less comfortable than even his modest apartment back in Piltover. In the least, he’d managed to pull together a rudimentary air filter from spare materials he brought with him from the academy lab and hopes that it lasts long enough for the duration of your stay.

Then he realizes something. He has no idea how long you’ll be here in Emberflit Alley with him. Hopefully not long, he thinks. Not because he wants to stop seeing you, no — rather, Zaun is no place for a Piltovan at present, and the small alley he’s in now was chosen for its seclusion instead of its relative quality of living. The dangers to you in the former undercity are many; if not to your health by means of pollutants, then by the constant stirrings of war that are whispered in the streets, emboldened by the Council attack and the topside confusion that remains unresolved. The pit in his stomach grows. You shouldn’t be here. No matter how much he would prefer to bask in your presence.

Nonetheless, you are here and these precious minutes are not to be wasted. You sit up, concerned by the change in his expression as thoughts race through his brilliant mind. “Vitya?”

“Hm?” He shakes his head slightly as if to rid himself of his thoughts, then pushes himself off of the bed to lean against his crutch. “Ah, I made a quick meal in case you might be a bit peckish. It’s not much, but it’s enough.”

You survey him, waiting to see if he might share what he was thinking of. Viktor merely tilts his head in the direction of his kitchen with a half-smile. He waits patiently as you grind your teeth in your decision to stay in bed longer or satisfy your hunger, electing to savor the moments he can with the extra time he’s been given, and pushes away his niggling concerns for now. His leg twinges as if to remind him who he has to thank, but when you slot yourself into him and support his side (arm wrapped tightly around his waist), he melts into your warmth and feels his worries — temporarily — fade into the background.

The road ahead might be immensely difficult and fraught with tragedy, he thinks. But mornings like these make it all worth it. As he wraps his own arm around your shoulders and nestles your head onto his, Viktor silently vows to help ensure that you and Runeterrans — all Runeterrans, not just the privileged few — get to have a future filled with such mornings.

[jukeboxsweethearttt]

Can we see OlderSugarDaddy Rafe going kinda insane to impress young independent reader? She's just trying to figure stuff out, but this weirdo customer/neighbor is always waiting for her. He's sent a shopper, a stylist, a maid, but it's the young hot tutor/repairmen with similar interest that gets your attention.

Is it a love triangle? A stalking charge? Could it end with a pity date?

Whatever makes sense to you🫡🫡

Million Dollar Man

SugarDaddy!Rafe x Fem!Reader

inspired by @starfxkr Sugar Daddy!Rafe as always 💋

Rafe Cameron was losing his mind. The moment he laid eyes on you, a fiercely independent woman just trying to figure out her life, he knew he had to have you. But you weren't making it easy whatsoever.

Every morning, he'd see you leaving your apartment, your eyes filled with determination. Every evening, he'd watch you return, exhausted yet still so captivating. And every night, he'd obsess over how to win your attention.

First, he sent a shopper with designer clothes, hoping to appeal to your taste. You returned them all without a second glance. Then, a top-tier stylist showed up at your door, offering a makeover, but you politely declined, preferring your own style. Even the maid he hired was turned away with a smile, as you insisted on handling your own affairs.

Rafe was getting desperate. He needed something more, something that would make you see him differently. That's when he noticed your kitchen sink was leaking. He had the perfect idea—he'd send a young, hot repairman with similar interests to yours.

The repairman arrived the next day, charming and knowledgeable. You were skeptical at first but quickly found yourself drawn to him. He understood your passions and shared your hobbies, making you feel seen and appreciated in a way that Rafe's grand gestures hadn't.

Rafe watched from a distance, his jealousy simmering. The repairman was supposed to bring you closer to him, but instead, you seemed to be falling for the young man. Everything was driving him crazy. His obsession with you was teetering on the edge of dangerous.

Was this a love story or a prelude to a stalking charge? You weren't sure. You found Rafe's efforts both flattering and unnerving. You wondered if you should confront him, but part of you was curious to see where it would lead. Maybe, just maybe, you'd agree to a pity date, if only to understand this enigmatic man who seemed so determined to win your heart.

The future was uncertain, but one thing was clear Rafe Cameron wasn't going to give up on you anytime soon.

[hellfiresky]

Written in Red: Embedded

Contribution to @clonexocweek | Theme: Introduction

This is Chapter 3 of my longfic, Written in Red, written with this event and theme (Introduction) in mind. However, this chapter works as a standalone! I just released it on AO3 as well, so if you’d like some extra background, feel free to check out the previous chapters!

Please find the full fic here.

Summary: Tavi Drezz is an independent war correspondent embedded on the frontlines of the Clone Wars. Commander Wolffe leads the 104th Battalion, a unit specialising in high-risk extractions, reconnaissance, and special operations. When their paths cross in the dusty war room of the 104th, few hours before a rescue mission on Vanqor, it marks the beginning of an unlikely partnership. This is their story.

Prelude from Chapter 1:

In war, nothing stays still.

If you were born under the Republic, you’d grow up believing it’s the beacon of democracy, the one thing holding the galaxy together. But if you were raised on Confederacy values, you’d see the Republic for what it really is: a bloated corpse propped up by greed, a machine devouring its own soldiers to keep the senators fed. And you’d be right.

The truth was, both sides were corrupt. Not in the big, obvious way. Though there’s plenty of that, but in the quiet moments. The way the deals were handed to the same three corporations. The way the Senate Building was filled with arguments that sounded important but meant nothing. Sure, some senators were in it for the right reasons. There was always one or two, driven by ideals instead of credits. But that’s just it, isn’t it? That’s the thing about war, it gives everyone a reason to want something. Freedom. Victory. Power. Maybe even peace, though that one felt like the longest con of them all.

Pairing: Commander Wolffe x Tavi Drezz (F!OC - War journalist and holographer) Word count: 4861 Tags and Warnings: Swear words, lots of political commentaries mirroring real life issues, graphic depictions of violence, canon typical violence, author is a photojournalist, sets in the same universe as Seeing Red

Taglist: @msmeredithrose @orangez3st

Playing this song as a soundtrack is recommended!

Journalism in wartime was a strange thing. On paper, it was always about truth - bringing clarity to confusion, giving a voice to the voiceless. Hell, she hated that term, voiceless. Everyone had a voice; it was just that some weren’t being heard. Her job wasn’t to give them a voice - that would be presumptuous, intrusive even. Her job was to amplify what they were already saying, leveraging the truths they were desperate for someone to hear. But in practice, it often felt like a compromise. Between access and independence, between reporting the facts and navigating the agendas of the powerful. Tavi knew the game well enough; the Republic needed stories to bolster morale, to frame its war effort as just, heroic. And journalists? They needed the Republic’s permission to get close enough to see anything at all. And if they’re lucky, to publish the article with minimum Senate-approved cosmetics. 

The war room of the 104th Battalion at the Republic Military Base was, unsurprisingly, dusty. Tavi had read through the infopack Chiko sent her the day before: the 104th specialised in search and rescue missions, spec ops, negotiations, peacekeeping, and commando raids. It also mentioned they’d lost a significant number of their men during the Battle of Abregado. She’d been in a few war rooms before - GAR bases in the Mid and Outer Rim - but never one as massive as this. Once, she’d attended a press conference about the Zillo Beast, held in one of the Coruscant Guard’s war rooms. That had felt oddly comfortable, probably because it looked lived in by the Corries. This one was different.

Almost twenty minutes had passed since she arrived, seated beside Chiko, who was busy flipping through her datapad. Every now and then, Chiko would glance at Tavi, as if measuring how much of this felt familiar to her.

“They always do this,” Chiko muttered, breaking the silence.

“Late?” Tavi resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

Chiko chuckled quietly. “Well, no one prioritises the Comms Bureau. But also, Wolfpack doesn’t get a lot of journalists. Most of them are from the Republic Press Corps. You know the type - ready-made pieces for the Republic’s site on the holonet. Independents like you?” She paused, scrolling through another page on her datapad. “Haven’t had one embedded in a while.”

“No kidding,” Tavi mirrored her chuckle. “Been there, done that. Worked in comms briefly for the Core Development Programme.”

Chiko raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly. “Ah, you should’ve started with that the other day. I actually handled their—”

The hissing of the door cut her off.

A clone trooper with a cybernetic eye stepped into the room, followed by two others, neither of whom were wearing helmets. Chiko instinctively set her datapad down, and brushed her hands against her trousers. “Commander Wolffe,” she extended a hand towards the trooper with the cybernetic eye. “Sergeant Sinker, Corporal Comet. Good to see you again.”

“Chiko.” He shook Chiko’s hand firmly before looking at Tavi from head-to-toe. She’d grown used to this behaviour from soldiers - the sizing up, the scepticism. If she had a credit for every time one of them questioned her presence, her wealthy parents might finally be proud of her for doing something “lucrative” with her degrees. But then, if she cared about that, she wouldn’t be sitting here.

“Tavi Drezz. Independent journalist.” She extended her hand, offering him the same professional courtesy Chiko had demonstrated earlier. Wolffe didn’t take it right away, he continued scanning her down. Down to her boots, the holocamera bag resting on the table, the datapad in her hand.

There was nothing welcoming about him, no warmth, no veneer of politeness, no forced 'career smile', nothing. Again, it wasn’t unexpected - she’d seen it before. Soldiers didn’t like questions, and journalists were nothing but questions. She could almost see him calculating the possibility that she was some kind of plant by the Confederacy - or worse, a waste of time.

Finally, he took her hand. “Independent, huh? Means you don’t answer to anyone.”

“Define anyone.”

Wolffe’s grip lingered just long enough for her to internally question his motive, then released. The commander stepped back, arms crossed, still closely observing. Judging. But it wasn’t just suspicion and judgement she felt radiating off him. It was fatigue. The one that settles into your bones when you’ve fought too many battles and buried too many comrades. The kind of exhaustion that didn’t leave room for niceties or patience for people like her.

“I’ve read the comms briefing,” Wolffe said flatly. “You’re embedding with us on Vanqor. We received a distress order last night. Departure is set for two hours.” He turned to Chiko without waiting for acknowledgement. “I assume she’s cleared all health requirements - immunizations, standard field readiness checks? Signed off on the non-liability agreement, the operational security clearance, and the embed conduct protocol? And she’s been briefed on rules of engagement for civilians in a warzone?” Chiko flipped through her datapad to confirm. “All signed, sealed, and logged. I also attached a recommendation memo from Commander Fox and Lieutenant Torch from the Coruscant Guard. She’s fully cleared for deployment.”

Wolffe didn’t wait for further confirmation before focusing back to Tavi. “So they vouched for you. I’ll give you this much: stay close, follow orders, and don’t slow us down. My men don’t need distractions out there.”

Tavi opened her mouth to reply, but he interrupted. “Two hours. Be ready.”

“Two hours?” she choked out. Wolffe raised an eyebrow. “What? You got a problem with that?”

“No. Just… wasn’t expecting to move that fast.” Tavi quickly regained her composure. She signed up for this. She had survived worse places with minimum protection and zero insurance.  “Good.” Wolffe raised both eyebrows, then dropped them just as quickly. “You’ll learn fast that the field doesn’t wait for anyone. Pack light, Drezz. We don’t have room for dead weight.”

He turned to Sinker and Comet. “Get the squad prepped. I want everyone on the landing pad in ninety. Notify the General that we’re ready to depart.”

The two clones saluted and left the room. Without another word, Wolffe followed after them, leaving Tavi standing by the table.

“This is a search and rescue mission, as outlined in your infopack,” Chiko tried to reassure Tavi. She closed her datapad and beckoned for Tavi to follow her. “Thought it’d be better for you to start here, in planning and prep, instead of being thrown into an active battlefield. General Plo Koon and Commander Ahsoka Tano will lead the operation. I’ll introduce you in a bit.”

“The travel to the Outer Rim will take approximately five hours,” Chiko continued as they walked down the corridor. “Plenty of time to review your notes, rest, and, hopefully, eat. You did pack, right?”

“Enough to keep me going.” Tavi mentally ran through her packing list. At least she hadn’t been completely unprepared. She knew she was being sent somewhere, but Chiko’s message hadn’t exactly come with a detailed itinerary.

Her email had been blunt, almost clinical:

Your embed request has been approved. Report to the 104th HQ at the Republic Military Base by 0600 for further briefing. Pack accordingly—field conditions apply.

No mention of immediate deployment. No confirmation of where she’d actually be going. Just a line about “field conditions” that, in retrospect, should’ve been a bigger clue. Good thing she had charged the batteries for her holocamera last night and packed extra data chips. She’d also brought her satellite comlink - standard precaution, one she’d insisted on for herself ever since going professional. The GAR might grant her access, but she never fully trusted anyone else’s comms, not when stories had a habit of disappearing if they weren’t backed up properly.

She fixed the weight of her bag on her shoulder. “I’d have packed differently if you told me I was shipping out in less than a day.”

“Wouldn’t have made a difference. Wolfpack moves fast. You’ll get used to it.” Chiko smirked. 

Three space gunships sat prepped in the hangar, their weathered hulls gleaming under the overhead lights. Not standard LAATs - these had been modified for vacuum operations, their heavy plating and sealed interiors built for search-and-rescue in hostile conditions. The air inside the hangar carried the distinct scent of fuel and exhaust, complete with the chatter of pre-flight checks filling the space. Mechanics moved between the ships, running diagnostics, sealing compartments, loading supply crates.

Near the closest gunship, a towering Kel Dor Jedi stood with his hands clasped behind his back. The polished metal of his rebreather subtly reflected the surrounding floodlights. Beside him, a Togruta in a battle-worn leather cuirass shifted her weight from foot to foot, arms crossed as she spoke with the clone commander in front of them. 

And then there was Wolffe.

Same stance as he had in the war room, arms folded tight across his chest, spine locked. Everything about him felt charged, the kind of barely restrained tension that came from someone forcing themselves into stillness. Deliberate. Controlled. Like a coiled wire, wound tight enough to snap at a moment’s notice.

Tavi slowed her pace, absorbing the way they carried themselves. This wasn’t politics, not the calculated speeches and practiced smiles of the Senate hearings she covered. This was war, raw and unscripted. But not the kind of war she had covered. Of course, she had been in war zones before. Literal war zones, not just conflict areas. Ducked under crumbling buildings whilst blaster fire ripped through city streets, crouched in makeshift shelters with displaced families as they whispered about the Republic and the Separatists in the same exhausted breath. She had sat across from clone troopers after the fighting was over, recording the hollowed-out tone in their voices as they spoke about the men they’d lost, the orders they had followed, the locals who had either helped them or turned against them.

This was different. 

These weren’t the ones caught in the aftermath. These were the people making the calls before the chaos hit. The ones who decided where the troopers would be deployed, which villages would be secured, which risks were worth taking. This was the part of war she had never been privy to. And she was about to see it up close.

Chiko didn’t stop. “They were briefed last night. The Jedi,” she muttered, keeping her voice low as they neared. “Wolffe confirmed your involvement minutes ago.”

The Jedi turned at their approach, and the sheer weight of Plo Koon’s attention landed on her like a quiet force of nature. Even through the mask, something in the way he regarded her carried depth - like he wasn’t just seeing her, but seeing through her. Measuring. Calculating thoroughly. The younger one, Ahsoka Tano, nodded and smiled, studying Tavi with a more open curiosity. 

“General, Commander,” Chiko greeted them with a nod, slipping into the kind of professionalism that had been drilled into her for years. “This is Tavi Drezz, the independent journalist embedded for this mission. Communications Bureau cleared her yesterday. She’s here to document Republic humanitarian and recovery efforts.”

That last part had the polished ring of PR work. Tavi almost shook her head.

Plo Koon held her gaze. “Your work precedes you, Miss Drezz.”

“You’ve read my reports?”

Ahsoka’s arms dropped to her sides. “I think he means he’s heard about you.”

No confirmation, no denial. Tavi stole a quick glance at Chiko, who barely moved. The Jedi had access to everything - if they wanted information, they had it. The idea of being known before even speaking wasn’t new to her, but it wasn’t exactly comfortable either.

“Your role on this mission is strictly non-combative. Your safety, and that of the team, remains the priority.” Plo Koon spoke again. Before Tavi could reply, Wolffe exhaled sharply. “She’s had the full protocol briefing,” he muttered, half to Plo Koon, half to himself. “She’ll follow the team and stay out of the way.”

Ahsoka’s eyes flicked back and forth between them, her expression hardening. “You ever been in a combat zone before?”

The answer came easily. “Yes.”

Poof. There it was. A beat of silence.

“Ever been in one where we don’t know what we’re walking into?”

A smirk tugged at the corner of Tavi’s lips. “I think that describes every war zone I’ve covered.” Ahsoka huffed and crossed her arms again. “Fair enough.”

Plo Koon nodded once. “Then we are in agreement. Commander, ensure she has what she needs.”

“Copy that.” Wolffe saluted sharply before turning on his heel, motioning for Tavi to follow. She hesitated for half a second, looking at Chiko, who only mouthed good luck before pivoting and striding away. No further instructions, no last-minute reassurances - she was officially on her own.

The gunship was nothing like the sleek transport vessels that ferried diplomats and senators across the galaxy. No separate compartments, no assigned seating, just a hollow space lined with handgrips hanging from the ceiling, a few crates stacked against the walls, and the narrow entrance leading to the aircrew and gunners. It smelled like fuel, hot metal, and something acrid that she couldn’t quite place - maybe from the residual charge of weapons locked in racks near the cockpit. Tavi stepped inside, fingers brushing against the familiar weight of her holocamera as she started to pull it free from its bag. She wanted to capture this, the quiet before the storm, but before she could do anything, a firm grip landed on her shoulder. She barely had time to register it before she was pressed down onto one of the crates.

“Sit,” Wolffe ordered, barely sparing her a glance as he moved past.

Tavi’s brows knit together, processing. “I’m not—”

“Doesn’t matter,” he cut her off. “This isn’t a civ transport. You don’t stand unless you’re us, or, you have to.”

She let out a sigh, making sure her bag was secured behind her as a makeshift cushion whilst taking off the lens caps of her holocamera. Fine. She could work with that. But already, the contrast was setting in. This was it. No distance, no neutral ground. No hovering in the relative safety of the aftermath, documenting war from the periphery like she had on Ryloth or Ord Mantell. This was stepping into the story as it unfolded, not knowing which way the ground would shift beneath her. No time to contextualise, no space to analyse, just the raw mechanics of war unfolding in real-time. And instead of recording the aftermath, she was going to be right in the middle of it.

She started checking the settings of her holocamera, fingers moving over the controls in autopilot. She wasn’t going to waste the opportunity, if she was here, she was going to document every moment, every decision, every little hesitation in the faces around her.

Across the gunship, Wolffe secured his helmet - just before it fully settled into place.

Click.

Through the lens, she caught it. The brief, in-between moment where the man and the soldier existed at once. Half his face still exposed, jaw clenched. The other half already swallowed by the T-shaped visor, the impassive mask of command sliding into place. Then he turned. The gaze obscured by the visor locked onto her.

“Hold on to something when we lift off,” he said. “This ride’s not going to be smooth.”

No, it wasn’t. But then again, nothing about war ever was.

Tavi gripped her holocamera tighter, a habit she had developed, as if it would anchor her to the ground or whatever solid element beneath her. Troopers filed in, securing their gear, locking in weapons, taking their places like they had done this a hundred times before - because, of course, they had. She looked up as Plo Koon stepped into the ship, and settled in near the aircrew entrance, holding on to a stray handgrip above him. Ahsoka followed close behind. She stepped into position exactly in front of her - turned to land her gaze on Tavi, and then she smiled.

Not forced. Not out of politeness. Just a quick, genuine thing, barely there before she focused elsewhere. Okay, Tavi decided. She liked the kid.

Outside, the gunship’s ramp began to rise. The metal clanked into place, sealing them in. A low voice from the cockpit confirmed their final checks.

Then, with a sharp lurch, they lifted off.

Five hours in a space gunship was an experience. Not the worst ride she’d been on, but certainly one of the more unique ones. The constant vibration of the engines, the low thrum of hyperspace humming through the hull, it all blended into the background after a while. What she hadn’t expected was the music.

Somewhere between hour two and three, one of the troopers had hooked into the comm system and started playing rock music in Huttese. It wasn’t loud, just enough to fill the space without overpowering conversation, but it set the tone. At first, she thought it was a one-off. Some kind of inside joke, maybe. But no - track after track rolled in, a carefully curated selection that was clearly meant to serve a purpose. Stress relief? Maybe. A way to cut through the monotony of waiting? Likely. An adrenaline booster for what was coming next? Absolutely.

Tavi craned her neck to peek past Ahsoka who was busy talking to one of the troopers, Boost, exactly in front of her, to catch sight of Wolffe across the cabin. She waved her holocamera to catch his attention. Can I? She didn’t speak, just mouthed the words in his direction. Wolffe’s gaze locked into hers, then he shrugged, giving her a quick OK sign.

Permission granted.

Click.

Another moment captured - one of the small, in-between moments that defined war that rarely made it into history holobooks but stayed burned into the minds of those who lived through it. Tavi had to angle the shot from below, forced to stay seated whilst the others stood around her. The framing was different from her usual work - looking up rather than at - but it worked. The way the troopers loomed above, the curve of their helmets catching the dim light of the interior, the slight lean of Ahsoka’s stance as she was engaging Boost in conversation.

Click.

She wasn’t sure how many more of these she’d get before they hit the ground, but she’d take what she could.

Five hours passed before a voice crackled through the overhead comms. “ETA to Vanqor, ten minutes. Prepare for turbulence on descent. We’ll be running low-altitude scans before we drop a beacon - expect rough air.”

Ahsoka, still standing in front of Tavi, turned to face her. “Rough might be an understatement,” she said, adjusting the leather vambraces on her arms. “We’re not landing, not yet. The pilots will sweep around the wreckage of the Endurance first, see if we can pinpoint Anakin and Master Windu’s last known location.” Tavi noticed a subtle change in pitch as the engines adjusted for atmospheric entry. Around her, the troopers started double-checking their gear, securing weapons, tightening straps. Ahsoka exhaled through her nose, rolling her shoulders like she was already bracing for impact.

“Hope you’re not afraid of a little turbulence.”

Turbulence didn’t scare her. She’d been through worse. Hostile environment training, emergency crash simulations, rapid decompression drills - she had the certifications to prove it. She had sat through flights so rough they felt like they were being rattled apart mid-air, had deployed into zones where the ground was still smoldering from orbital bombardment.

But if she was being honest, she wasn’t thinking about herself right now. She eyed the young Jedi standing in front of her. Ahsoka’s stance was solid, confidence rolling off her in that way only Jedi carried themselves. But the thin leather cuirass strapped over her chest wouldn’t be enough to stop a blaster bolt, would it? And Beneath it? A simple bandeau, bare shoulders, exposed arms. The leather cuirass didn’t match her usual outfit, either. The only thing it seemed to coordinate with was the grey markings of the 104th.

That wasn’t an accident. The Wolfpack must’ve insisted she wear it - probably the best compromise they could convince her to accept. Ahsoka Tano was a Jedi, sure, but she was still a kid, and these troopers had fought beside her long enough to know just how much of a risk she took every time she jumped into battle.

“Not worried,” Tavi said finally, shutting off the holocamera to save its battery life. “Just calculating what to do when you find your colleagues and I need to take pictures.”

Ahsoka’s brow lifted, the corner of her mouth moving upwards like she was about to shoot back a response - but before she could, Wolffe’s voice cut in from behind the girl. “Stick to Wildfire.” A sharp jab over his shoulder towards the trooper standing at his left. “I’ll be doing the rescuing,” he continued. “So I can’t be responsible if you plummet yourself out of the ship because you want to take pictures.”

Tavi exhaled through her mouth. “Damn,” she adjusted the lens on her holocamera. “You make it sound like I’m about to throw myself into a Sarlacc pit.” Wolffe didn’t dignify that with a response. He simply glared his visor onto her longer than necessary before turning back towards the rest of the men.

The pressurised LAAT staggered hard as it broke through Vanqor’s upper atmosphere. The change in gravity pressed against Tavi’s ribs, a hollow, stomach-dropping sensation that sent adrenaline sparking through her limbs. 

Outside the open hatch, a dead war machine dominated the horizon. The wreckage of the Endurance sprawled across the jagged terrain below, its massive form a carcass of metal and ruin, semi-buried in the planet’s rocky surface. Smoke still curled from sections of its torn hull, vents and broken conduits spilling eerie glow where power flickered in its dying systems. The ship had once been a monster, a Venator-class Star Destroyer that had torn through Separatists fleets with its cannons. Now, it lay broken and silent.

Ahsoka moved to the edge of the open hatch, gripping one of the handgrips closer to the hatch as the gunship rocked against the turbulence. Tavi followed instinctively, trying to lean past her to get a better view. The wind resistance was brutal, the force of it whipping against her face, but she barely registered it. She had seen images of Venator-class Star Destroyers before - holonet broadcasts, Senate reports, recruitment posters that framed them as symbols of the Republic’s power. But she had never seen one in person. And certainly never like this.

Tavi gripped her holocamera tighter, her pulse picking up. She needed this shot. She adjusted herself, trying to find a good angle without breaking her grip on the support bar. The gunship rocked again, and Wildfire’s hand clamped onto her arm. “Careful,” he muttered, barely audible over the wind. “Wolffe’ll toss you out if you get any closer.”

Tavi barely heard him. The framing was perfect.

The Endurance sprawled beneath them, a monument to destruction, whilst the other two gunmetal LAATs of the 104th combed through its remains. The shot practically framed itself; Republic search-and-rescue forces navigating through the wreckage of a once-feared fleet, searching for their missing Jedi.

She adjusted the settings using one hand on instinct, regulating her breath. 

Another. Click.

The red targeting scanners of the gunships swept across the surface, methodically scanning for life signatures. A voice crackled through the static of the onboard comms. “No sign of the Generals yet. Scanners picking up debris, still sifting through interference from the ship’s reactor.”

War had a way of distorting perspective. From the Senate floors, it was endless debates and statistics - how many fleets were lost, how many credits were needed to sustain the next campaign. From the outer rim, it was evacuations and aftermaths, burning cities, displaced civilians, silenced confessions from people who had lost too much to care who won. But here, inside the war machine itself, it was another beast.

No grand speeches. No declarations of righteousness. Just men in armour combing through wreckage, trying to pull their own from the ruins. She looked up to her left, catching Wolffe’s helmeted gaze as he turned his head towards her.

Click.

An audible gasp from Ahsoka - then, “There! The bridge! I can see them!” She pointed through the open hatch. Excited beeps followed from an astromech unit, blue and white, standing behind her. Tavi blinked. Had the R2 unit always been there? She had been too focused on the troopers, the wreckage, the shots she needed to capture, but now the little droid whistled insistently.

Plo Koon, standing just behind Ahsoka, turned towards her. “Ahsoka, hold the ship steady.” Without hesitation, the young Jedi threw her arms forward together with the Jedi master. Palms up, fingers splayed, and the gunship was immediately steadied by some invisible magnetic pull. Tavi stumbled back a step as the ship adjusted mid-air, the force of the movement knocking her closer to where Wildfire stood, making Wolffe now directly in front of her. She barely had time to react before Boost, Comet, Sinker, and another trooper - Corvis, she thought - moved into position to shoot ascension cables. The cables flew across the gap before they tethered the gunship into place.

Click.

Two troopers moved in unison, lowering their blasters they used to fire the ascension cables. Tavi barely registered which ones. Close to her, Wolffe’s voice snapped her from her awe.

“Comet, let’s go!”

Before she could process it, two troopers leaped out of the gunship. They landed hard on the bridge, kicking up dust and debris as they sprinted forward, dodging the unstable metal beneath them. Instinct had Tavi stepping forward, trying to get closer to the open hatch, camera already raised.

A hand caught her forearm, again. “Don’t get too close!” Wildfire snapped. She barely nodded, still focusing on the chaos unfolding below.

“Hurry, Commander Wolffe.” Plo Koon commanded with urgency. Down on the bridge, Wolffe and Comet worked fast, pulling at debris, pushing aside slabs of metal. Beneath them, the structure groaned - a deep, ominous sound. This wreck wasn’t going to hold much longer.

Then, Tavi caught a distant movement. Mace Windu and Anakin Skywalker - alive, pinned beneath collapsed durasteel plating, obscured by the dust. Her breath caught as the clones braced, pushed, heaved the weight off the Jedi, working as fast as they could. The cables groaned, the bridge sinking by inches.

“We’re leaving in ten!” The pilot’s voice crackled again, filling the cabin. The gunship dropped lower, hovering dangerously close to the bridge’s edge. The gravity pull was brutal, Tavi felt it dragging her stomach downward as she clutched onto the nearest handgrips. Wildfire’s grip didn’t loosen. Her arm was probably bruised by now.

Above them, four figures moved towards the edge - Wolffe, Comet, Skywalker, Windu. They were so close, too close, to the point where one misstep would send them all plummeting into the wreckage below.

Click.

“JUMP!” Sinker yelled at them, and the four figures leaped. Armour and robes silhouetted against the wreckage as they jumped straight into the gunship. Plo Koon immediately yelled out his next command, “Cut the lines.”

Ahsoka’s lightsaber ignited to life. A sizzling green blur sliced through the ascension cables in one motion, the burning edges hissing as the cut pieces snapped back towards the collapsing bridge. Tavi barely had a second to process it before the gunship banked hard.

The floor lurched beneath her, and of course, she forgot to hold on. The sudden movement of the gunship knocked her backwards. An arm caught her waist. Tavi jerked back just in time to see the Endurance's bridge collapse into itself, swallowed by a gut-wrenching groan of metal as it vanished into dust and ruin.

That was close. Too close.

All she could think was Wildfire‘s now comforting grip. No - wait. Not Wildfire. Wildfire and Corvis were tending to Windu and Skywalker near the entrance of the cockpit. The grip tightened, securing her as the gunship lifted higher. “I told you to hold on,” Wolffe groaned, his modulated voice was close enough that she felt the rumble of it against her shoulder. She swallowed as she tried to reach for the handgrips above, but Wolffe hadn’t let go. 

The gunships jettisoned from the wreckage. Tavi barely registered the motion of it, instinctively raising her holocamera. She twisted her body in Wolffe’s grasp just enough to frame the shot --

Click.

Behind them, the Endurance exploded. A detonation of fire and wreckage split the horizon, the collapsing Star Destroyer consumed by its own destruction. Through the viewfinder, Tavi framed her final shot. One of the other two LAAT gunships tilted sideways in the foreground, caught as it veered away from the collapsing wreck. The fiery glow of the explosion behind it illuminating the falling shards of metal scattering across the hellfire sky.

Wolffe was still holding her steady.

[edwin-paynes-bowtie]

I've spent most of my writing time working on chapter 3 of Now We're at the Starting Line (I Did My Time) this month. The good news is that the chapter will be out on the 15th as planned! The bad news is that I didn't write anything for Crystal week.

Luckily, this chapter has a Crystal-and-Edwin scene in it that I'm extremely proud of! I'm posting it independently a few days before the chapter for @crystal-week, because I love our little psychic so much and want to post something for her.

Starting Line spoilers under the cut!

CONTEXT: After getting home from an awful meeting with her mother, Crystal finds herself crying on the stairway of the Agency building. Edwin, after a rather emotional moment with Charles, ascends the stairs and sees her there.

-

Crystal should go home. She knew that she should – her bed would be a great distraction right now, and the promise of a night sleeping beside Niko’s ghostly form was a comfort. But she didn’t want to go home to Niko a crying mess, so she sat on the stairs between the parking lot and the Agency above with her knees pulled to her chest.

Her mom really didn’t care about her. She didn’t give two shits what happened to her daughter. It had never been clearer to Crystal than it was today, and it had already been pretty fucking clear.

You have twelve minutes, she had said.

This conversation has been a perfect waste of time.

Crystal, I’ve let you have your little delusion for long enough.

She should be beyond sadness. She shouldn’t be such a baby. She was Crystal Palace Surname Von-Hoverkraft, and she’d always been a force to be reckoned with. Not just psychic, not just magical, but strong. Emotionally sturdy. Reliable.

Even if her memories didn’t feel like her own, she recalled feeling that way. Powerful.

And, apparently, she couldn’t catch a break. Not even to have a good long humiliating cry on her own. Because the last voice she wanted to hear sounded behind her, echoing through the rickety stairwell louder than she’d ever wanted it to. “Crystal?” Edwin sounded weirdly worried. “Are you… crying?”

“No,” she said. “Someone’s fucking chopping onions.”

Edwin sat down beside Crystal gingerly, lowering himself with his hands awkwardly. He cocked his head to the side and hummed. “I can in fact recognize when you are being sarcastic,” he said. “You are not particularly subtle.”

Crystal snorted. “Did you think I was trying to be?”

“I do sometimes,” Edwin said lightly. “Perhaps not now, though, as you seem rather… tense.” He paused. When he finally spoke, his voice was oddly stiff. “Would you like to… discuss your particular malady?”

Crystal touched the buns in her hair, one after the next. She was already crying, and Edwin knew it. She might as well talk to him. What was the worst he could do?

And, as much as she hated admitting it, somewhere deep inside her she knew that she and Edwin were birds of a feather. Crystal might as well talk to him, right? Besides, she didn’t really care what he thought about her. He’d see her, and he’d be honest. Maybe that was all she needed right now. So she took a breath and said, with absolutely no prelude, “it was my mother.”

Edwin’s response was short, and his voice was light. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” Crystal said, grateful for his brevity. It made her feel like she could go on. “When Charles and I met up with her today, she was… I don’t know. A real asshole, honestly. But I hate saying that. She’s my mom, even if she was super clear that she didn’t want to see me.” She paused. “Did you know that she only gave me a fifteen-minute appointment? I’m her daughter, and she gave me a fifteen-minute scheduling block.”

“That is… less than positive,” Edwin agreed in an oddly sympathetic voice.

“That’s very British of you,” Crystal told him, and he smirked. She did, too, but felt her face fall again after a few seconds. “Just… and, like, I don’t want to bitch and moan about it, even if I’m speaking to the world record holder for bitching and moaning.”

“Now you are just needlessly instigating,” Edwin said, but there was an undercurrent of laughter in his voice. “A well-known facet of your personality, to be sure, but unnecessary right now.”

Crystal rolled her eyes. “Well, like I was saying, I don’t want to gripe too much, but like… she didn’t care that I was missing. She didn’t even fucking notice, and neither did my dad. What kind of parent doesn’t even notice when their child is missing? What kind of parent doesn’t even give it a second thought when they learned that their kid was a literal missing person?”

She was angry. She was indignant. But Edwin was looking off into the distance, his expression calm and contemplative. He looked like he wanted to say something, but was holding back for some reason.

Which sucked, because one of the reasons that she liked Edwin – though, ugh, why would she think that – was that he never bit his tongue. But his face was careful now, even if his eyes shone with some unidentifiable emotion.

“What is it?”

Edwin turned his head toward her, his shoulders rolling. He assessed her with an almost practiced nonchalance before speaking. His voice was kind, but there was an undercurrent of anger in it that Crystal didn’t understand.

Not yet, anyway.

“I do actually know something of that,” Edwin said. “Believe it or not.”

Crystal blinked. “What does that mean?”

Edwin paused. He opened his mouth once, shut it, and shook his head quickly. “When I went to Hell - ”

“God, Edwin,” Crystal said. “I know that what’s happened to me isn’t as bad as literal Hell. You don’t always have to compare.”

“I’m not,” Edwin said. His fists clenched and pressed together on his lap. “I am very sorry that I have given you reason to believe that I am.”

All the fight went out of Crystal then. “It’s fine,” she said.

“Might I go on now?”

“Fine.”

“When I went to Hell,” Edwin continued, “my disappearance was labeled an Act of God. I believe I have told you that, but… well, I have had decades to contemplate the implications of that, and to research precisely what the declaration entailed.” He paused. “One facet of such a statement is that I was not looked for. Not by anyone. Society at large, to be sure, but I do not care much for the opinions of that lot. I do, however, care that my family abandoned my search.”

“Jesus,” Crystal said.

“Yes, I do believe that is a likely reason that no one searched for me.” Edwin’s voice was saucy, but Crystal sensed an undertone of real hurt. “They did not even start, in fact. I was an Act of God from the day I went missing. To this day, my death is what Charles calls a ���cold case.’ I remain unburied, and my mother and father could not even be bothered to purchase an empty casket for me despite their abundance of money.”

“That sucks,” Crystal said sympathetically.

“Yes,” Edwin agreed. “It is not an ideal outcome. And I know that you think me unemotional, or cold. But remembering that no one around me cared to search for me – it is the only time that I remember that I was once a person.” He cocked his head. “But this is not about me. It is about the truth that you are far from alone in your sentiments, and-” Edwin made a vibrating sound with his lips, his eyes wide. “Well. That is rather enough emotion for one sitting. I daresay that I had far too many feelings after… well. I shall have to find a way to cleanse myself of it.”

Crystal snorted, and in that moment, she felt a bit herself again.

Then, to bring the mood back to something adjacent to normal, she turned toward Edwin. “Did you know that when I was born my mom signed my forehead?”

Edwin gave her an odd look. “With one of those… magical markers? Whyever would she do that?”

Crystal laughed slightly. “No, it was a temporary tattoo of her signature. It was like I was an art piece they were curating. They wanted to make some weird statement online.”

“Your internet is indeed an odd place. A wealth of knowledge, but also a wealth of independent publications waiting to be ridiculed.”

Edwin sidled off the stair next to her wordlessly and walked away, up the stairs and toward the comfort of his books and notes. Crystal watched him go, and he never turned back.

And she knew what she had to do.

She couldn’t give up, not for herself. Not just for her own sake, though that would have been a pretty damn good reason in itself. She had to understand her powers for Charles, for Edwin… and for Niko, who had been lighting her up inside in a weirdass way lately that she didn’t even understand. She had to know who she was, even beyond her memories, and if Maddy Surname wasn’t going to help her…

Well, fuck her.

Aicha, she thought, are you there?

Her eyes went white as Aicha responded.

Always, my sweet child.

[havocdream]

Unheard and Unseen - Prelude

Summary: In the heart of the Republic Senate on Coruscant, a young senator shakes the stability of the government by presenting a bill that threatens the plans of hundreds of powerful individuals in the galaxy. Given the risk on her life while the bill remains in dispute, the bad batch are assigned as the new team in charge of the senator's security. And despite the political differences between the squad sergeant and the senator, which fill their working relationship with tension and complications, soon they will realize that in a galaxy full of injustices and horrors, the existence of the other can offer a little light to the most powerless. And, perhaps, even for each other.

Warnings/tags: Graphic violence | Mentions of genocide or mass murders | Government corruption and manipulation | Attempted murder | Graphic language | Anxiety and panick attacks | Gun violence | PTSD | Mentions of refugees of war | Terrorism | War and Violence | War crimes | Sexual harassment | Sleep disorders | Intrusive thoughts | Descriptions of death (including children and animals) | Blackmail | Explosions | Gang violence | Kidnapping | Military service and deployment | Riots | Enemies to lovers | Slowburn | Bodyguard romance | Overprotective Hunter

Read the end of prelude for notes! Read on AO3 (with more chapters uploaded)

Year 7.556 CRC, fifth month, sixteenth day.

Official record number thirty-four of the Druad case, in matter of use as evidence before the Supreme Court of Justice, and the Galactic Senate of the Republic.

Sixteen years ago, the planet Druad, which was not yet considered within the explored border areas of our galaxy, already harbored advanced and intelligent forms of life thanks to its vast and undisturbed ecosystems, covering approximately eighty-five percent of the planet, according to its first historical record.

Fifteen years have passed since its inclusion in the official records of the galaxy, but also since its refusal to be part of the network of planets of the Republic, who granted its self-sufficiency and signed an agreement of no occupation, neither cultural nor political, with the then druadan authorities. Druad was included in the galaxy as an independent planet, though not hostile to civilian or political visitors.

However, in 7.543 CRC, the arrival of Senate members to the planet coincided with the most important scientific revelation in their history, the discovery of the now known thusten, named originally drulium by the druadan, the strongest metal on record to date. A metal of Druad’s property, which its natives refused to negotiate with the Republic because of its unaffiliation with it, and the scarcity of such material.

The first hearing in the Senate about this metal was born two months after the return of these members, in which the possibility of negotiating with the druadan in exchange for the thusten was discussed. Since then, until the ninth month of the year 7.545 CRC, a hundred and twelve hearings were held on the negotiation or, and I highlight, the appropriation of thusten, a property belonging to a planet outside the network of the Republic, with no representation in the Senate and, mainly, that possessed an official treaty of autonomy.

On 7.545 CRC, the ninth month, third day, the palace of the elderly authorities of Druad was besieged by unknown forces, which caused a fire that claimed the lives of every person and object within it, including the young heirs to the planet’s throne and the independence treaty. Not a month of mourning occurred when representatives of the Republic visited the planet and found it in chaos, although no records are found to justify the reasons for visiting Druad at that time.

According to subsequent interviews with civilians of the planet, they did not know then about the existence of a treaty of autonomy of their planet or have heard anything about a galactic network of government of which their regents refused to participate. It is possible that the representatives of the Republic knew this as soon as they arrived, and so they suggested to these citizens to place one of them in the position of regency.

By 7.548 CRC, Druad was included as a member of the planets of the Republic, year in which the allocation of funds for the extraction and export of thusten to different planets of the Republic was approved. However, in two years of the validity of such law, the collection of metal was, barely, of twenty thousand tons, able to build only walls of thirteen feet for one hundred houses on five planets. Far from what their senators promised their citizens.

According to one of the official records of the Senate hearings of the same year, the decline of the metal was due to the fact that the vast majority of this had already been used for infrastructure and industry of Druad. The residences, transports, factories and others had been built with the star material, and little remained to be extracted.

But, according to subsequent interviews with druadan factory workers of those times, six years ago a team of scientists from various planets arrived to be instructed in every aspect of the thusten. They were told the reason was to find alternate ways to study the soil with Coruscant technology to find more of the material, even though the druadan were the experts on such topic.

Four years ago, Druad’s largest factory, which at rush hour housed up to twelve thousand individuals, suffered a gas leak that resulted in an explosion that although failed to damage thusten infrastructure, claimed the lives of thousands of druadan within a week. The rescue teams were slow to neutralize the threat. None of the scientists appointed by the Republic were in the town hall that fateful day.

Three years ago, the regent of Druad passed the command to another representative of the Republic, who formed a cabinet of state with figures from various planets, except from Druad. According to subsequent interviews with druadan civilians, the concept they held about the authorities of their planet didn’t conceive at all that they were made up of so many individuals from outside the planet. Most thought that more than one druadan was part of the council, for the only face they saw was that of the so-called Excellency.

That same year, the Senate approved the project that prioritized the excavation of thusten, which was now officially classified as property of the Republic. Subsequent interviews with druadan civilians revealed that the communication networks that keep most of the Republic’s planets informed were never provided to the citizens of Druad, so the news about the decisions made on their planet never reached them.

In 7.454 CRC, two years ago, the Jedi Order carried out a visit to Druad, in the matter of, according to their record, an inconsistency of balance, perhaps coherence, between the data recorded and what their sources reported to them. The masters in charge of the mission were Obi-Wan Kenobi and Quinlan Vos, who conducted a thorough exploration of the former palace of the legitimate regents and found a series of tunnels leading to several bunkers housing cultural relics of great importance to the druadan leaders. Within these objects, a copy of the old treaty of autonomy was found, which prohibited the Republic from invading, in any political matter, druadan lands. Both Jedi masters presented a motion in their Jedi Council to stop the intervention of the Republic on an independent planet. The Council exhorted  the Senate to abide by the treaty signed unanimously many years before the discovery of thusten, which established that it had permanent effects unless a member of the druadan ruling dynasty agreed to be part of the Republic’s network. With all the members of the ruling family extinct, such scenario would be impossible.

Such decision was made by the Supreme Chancellor and did not pass Senate votes. The process of withdrawal of all agents of the Republic in Druad was approved and would be obeyed once a native regent was chosen through elections, which presented numerous setbacks due to the creation of representative houses and execution of proposals by each candidate, which were, of course, supervised by the still foreign regents.

Year 7.555 CRC, just one month after the attack of the Confederation of Independent Systems on Geonosis, which marked the beginning of the current war, droid forces invaded the planet of Druad under the command of Krax Bena, a separatist warlord from the planet Jovaki. This invasion forced thousands of druadan to flee their homes and seek refuge in scattered places on the planet. Bena’s forces seized the invaded thusten territories and proceeded to dismantle these sites and export the material.

Druad, still being a member planet of the Republic, got approval from the Senate for the occupation of the planet by clone forces in the name of the defense of civilians and the resources of the allied planet, although there was no request for help or rejection initially by any native. The number of clone troopers sent to Druad is equivalent to two hundred thousand and five hundred thousand men against a similar estimated number of droids opening fire to, according to each party’s records, obtain and protect the thusten.

Today, a recent exploration of the planet reports that mines prone to containing thusten have been almost empty for years. Ecosystems cover only twenty percent of the planet, due to constant fires caused by firearms and explosives that both armies continue using without stopping. The civilians of Druad have fled to places so scattered that it is not possible to obtain a record of the true population of natives, which once amounted to sixty million and now barely reaches ten million.

Jedi master Grel Deral was sent to Druad to handle separatist hostility with his military unit, but after months of siege the results show no progress on the road to a surrender or takeover of the planet, but more destruction of lands and deaths of druadan and clones.

Against this background, I enclose a series of interviews with Druad civilians along with the copy of Druad’s autonomy treaty, as well as comparative photographs between the planet’s past and its views today. All as material to serve the audience I submit this day to put a ceasefire on Druad, the negotiation with the Confederation of Independent Systems and the immediate withdrawal of any alien presence to safeguard the resources and life of a planet that should never have been part of the conflicts of this Galactic Republic.

Proposal submitted in Coruscant to the Supreme Court of Justice by Vintra Selana. Senator from Ederon.

So, I have some heads up regarding this story that I think are worth mentioning.

First, this is a very long fic, because it’s mainly politics. I really wanted to write a piece of work very centered in political opinions, procedures and of course the huge dilemma with corruption and abuse of power. I felt the need to speak up my mind regarding some issues with this fucked up world, and wanted to create a character that could help me release some frustrations that I have for not having people like that in the governments of the world. Especially because I live in a country that’s in the first stages of a dictatorship, and have seen a lot (A LOT) of shit from politicians and people in power like business owners or corrupt journalists. It’s fucking disgusting and infuriating to feel powerless against them, so I ran to the only tool I have to ease my mind and heart a little bit: writing.

Second, this is a Hunter fic because he’s my crush and I love some romance. But… it’s a very slow burn. My character is a politician that opposes war and he’s a soldier, so of course there is a problem there and I think a strong stance on those two ideals are hard to take down if they clash. I can’t say there isn’t much romance, but I’m more focused on the development of the senator. Her fight means a lot to me and also the attempts on her life that try to take her down and shut her mouth for standing on the right place. And since she and Hunter don’t like each other at first, well there’s not gonna be a lot of fluff at the beginning right.

Third, as you might notice, english is not my mother language. I’ll try my best to be clear but if you notice some mistakes, whether in grammar or punctuation (especially in dialogues, since it’s a different format from spanish), I’ll appreciate the help!

With that said, I’d really like to know your opinion and expectations from this story. It’s been a while since I write something, and it’s the first time it’s from star wars. Also, it’s my first time posting in AO3. I apologize if the rustiness is a little bit evident on the writing and descriptions, but I feel good coming back to one of my favorite hobbies.

Thank you for taking a look! :)

Chapter One -> You won't find a better squadron

[princess-glassred]

Au where Maturin decides to bring Eddie back and let him do over his life, but the butterfly effect causes Richie to marry connor and now HE'S the one in an abusive relationship and Eddie's gotta help him out of it.

Maturin lets Eddie make one wish before he brings him back so Eddie wishes for him to have never met Myra and to break the abuss cycle sooner. He then wakes up on the morning that Mike is supposed to call him, remembering everything that just happened. It worked well, Eddie is single, happier, healthier, and wealthier now. He even ends up google searching Myra's name since, even though she was toxic, he was still married to her for a long time and finds it hard to wish ill will on her. Luckily she also seems to be doing much better, so Eddie doesn't gotta feel too guilty about his wish. It kinda sucks he's gotta fight pennywise again tho, but he knows whats gonna happen now so it should probably be a breeze.

He gets to the chinese restaurant and everything plays out excatly how you'd expect it, none of the losers have been changed at all by Eddies wish for independance. None except for Richie that is. Richie is so strikingly different Eddie doesn't even recognize him at first. He's wearing like... normal office worker clothes? And he looks cleaner and less uhhh haggered? And he even seems a little more quiet than usual. The scene where they talk about marriage goes about the same, except for when Richie says "You didn't know I got married? You seriously didn't know?" It's not a prelude to a joke. Eddie completely expects it to be but it's not, he just pulls out his phone and shows them all a picture of Connor and explains they've been together for a while now and got married in canada.

Eddie's very suspicious of this, and the overwhelming horror he feels when he finds out Richie Tozier isn't even Richie Tozier anymore, he's Richie BOWERS, makes him wanna throw up. It's actually pretty sad, because from context clues he picks up when Richie talks about Connor, he seems super unsupportive and downright mean. Richie's not even a comedian in this timeline, because Connor insisted being a comedian wasn't really viable and STRONGLY suggested Richie do something more useful. This seems to have fundamentally changed Richie's personality to the point he regards all his silly jokes and impressions he used to do as just kid shit that he's grown up past. All the losers finds this sad, especially Bev since she's been in an abusive relationship, but nobody but Eddie knows how to approach him on it.

He tries to help him realize Connor's an abusive spouse because he doesn't support him, and Richie lets it slip that the only reason he started dating Connor was because he was so lonely after the losers started splitting up. He hit total rock bottom, so before he left town he decided to give connor a chance again. And Connor managed to take the already emotionally vulnerable and insecure richie and make him even more insecure with demeaning remarks, nasty comments, and the insistence Richie change everything about himself. He does ultimately realize Connor is just using him, and that their relationship is woefully unhealthy, and it's all through Eddie reminding him of what actual love feels like.

Unfortunately this doesn't end well for either of them, because bizzarely, because now that Eddie knows to dodge pennywise and avoid getting stabbed in the stomach, some one else has to die. He realizes it's going to be Richie, but he feels that's unfair because he just finally understood how awful Connor is, he deserves to live to see a day where he's not tied down to him anymore. Eddie got to enjoy two days, knowing he wasn't burdened by his mother or Myra anymore, and that's good enough. Richie deserves that too. So he pushes him out of the way at the last second and winds up dead again. The i fucked your mom exchange is a lot more sad now though, because Richie hadn't even made a joke like that in years.

The fuckin turtle is shocked to see Eddie back, but he thinks his self sacrifice was very kind of him to do. It was so kind he decides to give Eddie ANOTHER chance, but he turns down the offer since he figured he screwed up richies life with his last wish, and he isn't too in the mood for fighting pennywise again. Maturin clarifies though that there won't be any tricks or loopholes or anything. They can just "skip right to the happy ending". So Eddie says all he really wants anymore is for he and Richie be together in the end.

He winds up outside the decaying neibolt street, being hugged by Richie. Richie is overjoyed to see Eddie survived the pennywise attack, and Eddie's just happy to see Richie back to his usual old annoying self. Then they all go to the quarry together, and Eddie and Rich smooch like Bev and Ben. Happy ending. :>

[mae-i-scribble]

Since I am entirely too unwell about Ancient Magus Bride at all times of the day I have decided to break down the latest opening because I cannot do so for the friend I am watching season 2 with since she hasn't read the manga. Hands down this latest opening, Nemurasareta Lineage by Junna, is the best in the series to me. And I don't make that claim lightly, the first opening is iconic on so many levels from the visual to the lyrics, we ignore the 2nd opening bc it sucked (sorry to the fans out there I just do my best to pretend this one doesn't exist, no i have not moved on from my bitterness at its reused animation since 2016 next question), and season 2's first opening is also incredible.

However, what this latest opening brings to the table is some of the most spectacular visuals I've seen in a hot minute- and I don't mean from purely visual, I mean thematically, this opening is fucking spectacular. Every single moment has purpose and meaning behind it.

I will be putting the rest under a read more as to not clog anyone's dash bc this is gonna be l o n g

Starting off from the very first shot we already have so much thematic meaning crammed into this.

Firstly, the shot of Elias opening the book has many connotations, alluding to how he has read the Testament of Carnamagos while also alluding to the fact that him reading that book is ultimately what lead to this story happening at all. If Elias had never read it to try and transfer Chise's curse, Chise would not have done what she did and Elias wouldn't have learned how to let Chise be independent, and then Chise never would have gone to the college. In that respect it's a perfect opener for this "play," as it was the prelude to this act.

Then we have the next shot of Elias hanging like a puppet, showing us an empty vessel-like appearance before being pulled upwards. There are a lot of different ways to interpret this, personally it drew me back to how the Wil O' Wisp described a magus as "someone bound to their fate." Elias, a tried and true magus, is bound to his fate like a puppet on a string while Chise, someone who is not yet fully a magus is free to walk around the stage as herself. Elias' removal from the set, and subsequently the way he claps to bring forth the next "acts" in the show, I think speaks to the way he is largely removed from this arc. Of course he is there, watching over Chise and pushing her along as best he can, but he has very much taken more of a spectator role in this arc. He guides his pupil the best he can but lets her make her own choices.

Now, onto Chise's entrance.

With the college/the sorcerer's society as our stage, the protagonist enters. Chise walks in and looks around confused, just as she did when first entering the college and when she first learned of the dark politics lying underneath it. She is the only one not a part of the performance, the one factor that ultimately destroys the narrative the Sargent and the Rickenbacker families were trying to create.

At first, I thought these cardboard figures were a representation of the 7 powerful sorcerer families we are introduced to, but then I realized there were actually 8 figures so that theory is thrown out the window. This is something I'm not actually that confident in so if anyone else has interpretations I am so down to hear it. Obviously the woman in red holding the spider alludes to Lucy. The wolf next to her is most likely then the werewolf mother. The hooded man with the hammer I think can reasonably represent Isaac. While the knight beside him I honestly see as Rian (his sort of knight in shining armor attitude when it comes to Philomela, his very straight-laced straightforward view of things). The nun-like figure with the owl is mostly likely representing Philomela/Lizabeth Sargent. I can see the jester with the snake wrapped around him to be Zoey. For the last two figures though, I am absolutely stumped. The two women with the songbird remind me of Veronica, from the way she was raised up by her family to be a bird in a cage while simultaneously holding Philomela in an even smaller cage. For the family on the far right though I have absolutely nothing. However, I know there is some meaning behidn it, this opening is too packed with symbolism for it not to.

Speaking of symbolism, the sequence that follows is chalked full of it.

Elias ushers in the entrance of Philomela, trapped in her cage. The design of the cage and the flowers around it make it seem extravagant, exactly what Philomela's life might look like to someone not aware of what's really going on. But a cage is still a cage, and this one comes with a guardian owl, keeping watch over Philomela in place of actually showing Lizabeth. The toys lining the bottom are representative of one of the key moments that made Philomela realize just how tight the bars around her were- that she would never have her grandmother's love, no matter what she did.

Then we cut to moments of Philomela's childhood, again deceptively happy with what we know of Veronica and how she treated Philomela. The baby bird hatching from the egg, Philomela when she was still young and innocent and far too fragile. This association of the baby bird with Philomela also comes back later in a heartbreaking way so :')

Then Chise reaches out with the potpourri, and Philomela becomes alive. It's so fitting, in that Chise's kindness to Philomela, the understanding she has to exactly the pain Philomela is going through, is what touches Philomela so deeply, reminds her of the time where her life was not structured in this way. Chise gives her hope that it doesn't have to be, Chise pulls her out of it and gives her a perch to stand on, and it all began with one fateful meeting.

The shot we get of Chise smiling and swaying in the breeze is all too perfect, in showing that this desire for connection is mutual.

Fittingly, we then see Chise reach out to her friends one by one. Lucy and Zoe's each have a bit more meaning behind them, as we're still somewhat in the dark when it comes to Rian and Isaac's histories, but it still examplifies the ways in which Chise tries to help those around her as best she can. It also makes it abundantly clear why Philomela, and subsequently everyone else, are presented as children in this sequence: a direct reference to chapters 86-87 in which they all are mixed up due to Chise's influence and Chise goes around helping them regain themselves. It marks the turning point in which Philomela tries to take a stand against her grandmother and start believing in the people who have come to try and save her.

There is one gaping hole in this in that Zoey is in fact, not present at all in the whole mind melding thing, but I'm taking that as the animators/directors wanting to include him in this sequence as another main player. Plus the shot we get of him is very cheeking in showing a broken shell- in the way Chise figurative helped him break out of his shell and very literally revealed him to be a gorgon/human mix by accident.

In that interpretation it is also crucial to think about why Chise was kept as her teenage self and not also scaled down to baby form as in the original chapter. But overall keeping her as a teenager flows with the story of the opening itself better while still keeping those same allusions and thematics.

The next big shot to talk about is this one right here.

Many have already pointed out how it is an homage to the classical painting "The School in Athens." Which is very fitting for the college setting of this arc. More so than the reference itself, the way in which the characters are placed is so meaningful.

We have Chise in the center of it all as the catalyst of course. But we once more get that repetition of Elias as a bystander, observing the situation while remaining more in the background when it comes to Chise. Parallel to him is Lizabeth, who is similarly an outsider but with none of Elias' good nature, she is an outsider in that she wants to watch this scene burn to the ground (and probably why the choice was to then introduce a werewolf who leaps forwards on the attack, still under Lizabeth's control.)

Ruth and Alcyone are also parallel to one another, highlighted in a shot mirroring the two of them. This is interesting in that Alcyone is far more often paired with Elias when being given a point of comparison. While she is quite literally an artificial familiar, her presence is what sparks the idea that Elias might be something similar to her, and yet here she is paired with Ruth. They do have their similarities in the way they would do anything for the person they live for. A thought that struck me was in this mirroring there is also a contrast, Ruth shares his life with Chise, if he dies she is to die as well. However Alcyone's death was meant to be a way for Philomela to live- it was crucial in ensuring Philomela's freedom from her grandmother.

Also notably, Veronica is given a long, lingering shot. As a child, she is far more innocent looking, but the shot stays just a moment too long, as if trying to confirm the suspicions surrounding her (which manga readers will know are true). We also have Jasmine and Violet prominently featured, a very interesting choice considering how little a role they play in this arc, but I feel that current suspicions about how they will have a large role in the upcoming arc might be supported by their presence here. There actually isn't much to say about the shots with the werewolf and our first glimpse of how the show portrays the Testament as it gains a physical form.

While gorgeous there's just not much to say about them from an analytical standpoint. Besides for the way in which everyone is turned back into their play forms upon being killed, as if that was their original fate before Chise's interference with the story.

We then see Chise look devastated, the carnage of her dead friends behind her on the stage. It truly captures just how terrified she is of losing people she cares for. But then she looks at the thorn rune- plot relevant in the way her rune charms protected her friends from being killed. But it's also Elias' symbol, and yet another reminder of how he is still watching over and protecting her throughout all of this. It's only after she activates the magic that she looks up, determined to carry on and change this fate.

The start of our final action sequence for this opening is a bang, giving us this chaotic shot.

We see both bits of the classical painting and of our original stage figures being tossed around in the background referencing how the Testament literally rips its way through both the college itself and the students/teachers there. It also, notably, is not contained within the story, instead existing on the same plane as Chise. It's a being far too powerful to be contained in such a way, so it makes perfect sense for it not to be confined to the theatrical setting of this opening.

The next flash of shots is perhaps one of the most hearbreaking ones in this entire opening. First we're shown Philomela and her grandmother, then we cut to this:

Y'all the layers to this, the l a y e r s. We've already seen this bird represent Philomela in the opening itself as a hatchling. However the adult form of this bird is exactly the same as what Alcyone's base is, it is the only thing remaining once Alcyone dies. However we see all 3 stages of life here, lying dead on the ground. The Sargent family is a family of abusive cycles. Lizabeth passes down her abuse to her son, having been doomed to this path from the moment she was born. It's Adam who tries to break the cycle but ultimately fails, choosing to end his own life rather than return. This dooms his baby daughter to the same fate, nearly killing her as well. It's Alcyone, the last remaining gift Philomela has from her father and the one way he thought of to keep her safe even if he was gone. It's both about the cycles and about how they are broken and how Philomela will never truly escape the violence of the family she was born into, even after her grandmother is gone. This is then followed by the 1 picture of her parents that Philomela tries so hard to remember but cannot. Anyways I am going to be physically ill, next.

While the last sequence is just a build up to the final fight (cool as fuck but again, not much to say analytically), I do want to point out that when the Testament pulls in all the surrounding settings, it pulls in both the theatrical characters and the actual representations of Chise's friends with them. Which is such a cool little detail my jaw in on the fucking floor.

And after a brilliantly animated scene of Chise running to try and save Philomela from the jaws of this monster, everything abruptly comes to a close. Leaving us unsure of whether or not Philomela was truly saved, as the last set piece to fall away is that gilded cage, the angle making it unclear if Philomela is still inside before our title card appears. The quiet, peaceful shot of the classroom the title lingers over in favor of the chilling set pieces of the opening before it is an excellent place to end, leaving that sense of urgency and notions of the sinister lying in wait at the college.

All of this, and I haven't even touched on the lyrics- which I won't do so here. I am not a qualified translator and frankly this post is long enough as it is. It isn't as if this opening needs anything else to explain how fucking fantastic it is- the visuals themselves are stunning on a level few openings are these days. Not only does it tie into already existing thematics of the show, not only does it go through plot points we have seen and those yet to come in unique and engaging ways, the opening *itself* brings forth its own thematic reading of the college arc and Chise's place in it while telling its own story of events. Truly a masterclass piece of animation all around.

[townsenddecades]

Recap 1320 – 1329

And that’s another decade done! It was certainly an interesting one. There was no deadly famine this time, but with the number of sims to manage increasing, the individual days have started taking longer to play through. Which explains why completing this decade has taken me almost four months.

Historically speaking, the 1320s were an…interesting time in English politics, to say the least. I touched on it in some posts, but the tensions between King Edward II, his nobility and Queen Isabella came to a head, first in the Despenser War, and finally in Isabella’s coup against her husband to oust him from power and instead place their son, Edward III, on the throne. In addition to these domestic troubles, there was also continuous war with the Scots (culminating in Edward III recognizing Scottish independence in 1328) and trouble with the English fiefdoms in France, a prelude to the Hundred Years War that will begin in the coming decade, and which ironically enough gave Queen Isabella the springboard from which to launch her coup.

Another prelude to the Hundred Years War was the death of King Charles IV of France, after which Queen Isabella put Edward III forward as a candidate for the throne. Unsurprisingly, the French weren’t too keen on having an English King, but we all know that that wasn’t the end of the matter.

When I started this challenge, I actually intended to incorporate the Scottish wars into my story, but in playing I shied away from the research I would have needed to put in to think up rolls for that. Maybe with the next one, because we also all know that this wasn’t the end of the border clashes between England and Scotland.

Because of this, my sims may have had a lot of heartache because of marital troubles and dead children this decade, but at least in terms of big historical events, they’ve had it rather easy. Which doesn’t mean I was bored, far from it!

Which is a perfect cue to stop waffling and finally get into the recap for the individual households. Of which there are far more than a decade ago. This will be a long post (hence the read more), but I hope the division into individual entries helps to read it if you need multiple sessions.

I have also decided to write posts with more in-depth descriptions of the deaths and weddings of this decade, and to intersperse some polls between posting these.

The Townsend Family (Tovar, Main Household)

Current members: 7

In 1320, the Tovar branch of the Townsend family consists of Benedict Townsend, his oldest son Benjamin and youngest son Gregory, Benjamin’s wife Malika and Benjamin and Malika’s two surviving sets of twins: Malcolm and Amye, who are seven, and Frank and Adeline, who are only infants.

Like most people of their community, the Townsends begin the decade by trying to rebuild after the devastating famine of the last few years, which means working on the field and buying new animals for the farm, among them a kitten named Mouser whose task will be, as the name suggests, keeping out mice. Amye, who loves animals, is especially happy about this. Sadly, even now that their fields aren’t waterlogged anymore, their crops are growing badly, so the harvest they bring in in early 1321 is small.

In that year, Gregory, who wishes to be a painter, asks his sister Anna, whose family moves in more well-heeled circles in Praaven, for help in securing an apprenticeship. He has always had an artistic bend, but it isn’t unlikely that the hardships of being a peasant have added fuel to the fire of wanting to escape life on a farm. Through some effort, Anna does manage to secure an apprenticeship with a painter in Praaven for him, although it doesn’t come for free. Before he leaves, Gregory travels to the Abbey of St. Wright to propose marriage to his childhood friend Agnes, who promises to wait for him.

Also in 1321, the younger set of twins ages up into toddlers. And to add to the joyous news, at the end of the year, Malika discovers that she is with child again.

In 1322, Malika gives birth to a son named Edwin. This year, the harvest is adequate, although they delay harvesting some plants that still haven’t grown as well as they would like. Fuelled by this, Malika starts thinking about ways to secure her family economically. Farming obviously comes with too many risks, and losing children, friends and family has left its marks on her. Independent of her thoughts, Benjamin has already started putting more emphasis on cultivating grapes for nectar, to be used by the local Guild of Nectar Makers. She proposes making nectar themselves, but Benjamin dismisses this as too risky.

Later in the year, Benjamin takes his older children to meet Sir Robert Chevalier, his recently married half-brother whom he hasn’t seen in years and whose new home is nearby. Malcolm is very impressed by having a knight for an uncle. Meeting Robert and seeing his spacious – by peasant standards - home gives him his first idea of wanting more in life than farmwork.

While this visit is happening, Clement Dudley, brother to the local earl, visits the Townsend's farm looking for party of riders. Instead of his quarry, he finds Malika, whom he had a brief flirtation with before her marriage. As she is still a beautiful woman, he is very interested but meets with rejection when he tries to charm her. Naturally, he is offended by this reaction and leaves in a huff.

Not to be deterred by a pesky thing like this he returns a few months later, in 1323. Malika, who has been considering gaining his support to push her idea of becoming nectar makers, reciprocates his advances this time and allows him to kiss her. They are nearly caught by Benjamin in this compromising position but manage to play it off. It is only after Dudley leaves that Malika confesses her plan to him, much to his horror and disgust. A few months later, he gives his reluctant consent and Malika and Clement become lovers, but Malika’s and Benjamin’s relationship suffers noticeably under this. Undeterred, Malika makes a first attempt to talk to Clement about the ways he could support her family, but he is clearly uninterested. For him, their relationship is a pleasant diversion, nothing more.

Ever the determinator, Malika keeps trying, which in 1324 begins to put Clement off. Only then does she admit to herself that he likely won’t help her. After he stops visiting her, she starts feeling ill, which is soon revealed to be the first signs of another pregnancy. This discovery (and the fact that neither can tell who the father of the child is) strains her relationship with Benjamin further, especially when she reveals that her plan failed.

In 1325, while heavily pregnant, Malika has a talk with Amye about marriage and childbearing. Amye is nearly a young woman now, which means that these matters, and the danger associated with childbirth, are starting to become more pressing for her. Despite her mother’s reassurances that many women survive multiple births without issues, Amye isn’t convinced. Later in the year, Malika gives birth to a daughter, Cecily, who strongly takes after her, which makes it impossible to tell who her father might be. During the birth, Benjamin realizes how much he still loves his wife by how scared he is to lose her. After this, their relationship very slowly begins to mend.

Some months after the birth Malika is visited by one of the earl’s men-at-arms. Sir Robert, informed about what has been going on via village gossip, has asked the earl to intercede, but as Clement’s paternity can’t be proven, nothing comes of it.

At the end of the year Amye and Malcolm age up into teens, Frank and Adeline age up into children and Benedict ages up into an elder.

In 1326, the four older children begin take on new duties. For Amye, this mostly means helping in the household, like caring for her little siblings Edwin and Cecily and taking over some of the cooking, cleaning and whatever else needs to be done. She likes the work, but still doesn’t think she wants to do this for a husband. Then, tragedy strikes: baby Cecily dies of a fever. Despite his uncertainty about the child and his feelings on the entire affair, Benjamin comforts his wife, who feels that Cecily's death may be divine punishment.

In 1327, Benjamin stuns his wife by announcing that he intends to apply to the Guild of Nectar Makers, as he has had all winter to ponder the merits of her idea and decided that they are worth the risk. He does just that, and after the requisite entrance fee is paid, they buy the necessary equipment, build a shed to house it and dig a cellar to store and age the nectar they produce. Their first attempt at mead-making fails, but Benjamin is undeterred, and later attempts to make cider and wine are graced with more success.

Amye turns out not to be the only Townsend child to ponder her future. Malika and Benjamin notice that Malcolm doesn’t seem to be quite sure what he wants out of life – which is a luxury problem for a peasant, truth be told – but reassure themselves by saying that he is still young and will find his footing sooner or later.

That same year, the Townsend children sans toddler Edwin attend the Mahlsberg Spring Fair, where Amye meets a young man named Alexandre de Bellefaye (grandson of the local baron) and Adeline meets a boy named Bertrand Pelham (also related to the baron, but more distantly).

In 1328, while making a delivery to his uncle Sir Robert, Malcolm meets the Chevaliers' new maid, the pretty and spirited Hawise Barton, whom he instantly takes a shine to. He also meets his newest cousin, little Jehanne, but because Malcolm isn’t overly fond of children, that part of the visit is far less pleasant for him. Hawise, though initially wary because she is home alone with the children and doesn’t know Malcolm, seems equally interested in him.

In the same year, Edwin ages up into a child.

Continuing their growing pains, the older twins are still thinking about the future. The years have helped Amye realize that she truly is content with living with her family, and glad that her parents don’t pressure her to find a husband. At around the same time, Malcolm has a talk with his mother about the future – he knows that she has ambitions for their family, and she admits that she would wish to see them rise in the world, but tells him that ultimately, it is his decision. That doesn’t really help Malcolm decide what he wants to do with his life and where his attraction to Hawise fits into his reluctance to settle down with a family like his own father has done.

Later in the year, Hawise visits the farm to carry over a message regarding Annette Crawley’s marriage and makes the acquaintance of Malika. On his mother’s prompting, Malcolm walks her home, and the two admit that they like each other, and share their first kiss.

1329 begins with the news that the family has to pay a tallage of nearly 13,000 simoleons. That is more money than they have at the time, but through hard work and a successful wheat harvest, they succeed in paying it off on time.

Since their kiss in the previous year, Malcolm and Hawise have been meeting often, which has deepened their attachment. After the harvest, Malcolm makes Hawise very bumbling, accidental proposal of marriage, which she accepts gleefully. His parents are equally content with his choice, and as the Chevaliers raise no objection either, the marriage is loosely planned for the following year, before winter sets in.

Everything seems to be going swimmingly for the Townsends – they have a budding nectar making business, at least one of their children is ready to start his own life, their farm is going well and they are content. So of course, tragedy has to strike them again. And so, the decade comes to a sorrowful conclusion as Edwin falls ill with some kind of stomach disease, which, through malnutrition and dehydration, claims his life. He is laid to rest near his grandmother and aunts in the Tovar churchyard, which means that the Townsends end the decade with the same number of children as they had at the start.

The Townsend Family (Lüghaven)

Current members: 5

Simon Townsend begins the decade as an apprentice to the witch Elea Ellesmere, which he has been for some years. Besides his teacher, he shares his home deep in Lüghaven woods with Elea’s daughter Mariora, who, unlike him and her mother, does not possess the gift of magic. 

Right at the beginning of the decade, in 1320, Elea gives birth to twin girls, both witches. Mariora, saddened by what she views as her mother now having the gifted children she always wanted instead of an ordinary daughter like her, feels superfluous and wishes to use this chance to to escape her isolation and start a new life. What holds her back is Simon confessing his love for her, feelings which she reciprocates despite herself. They agree to move a little closer to civilization into the half-destroyed village of Lüghaven, where they will live as husband and wife, even without a proper ceremony.

They make a home there, with her continuing her study of alchemy and him growing some plants and doing odd jobs in the nearby villages, which leaves them reasonably happy and comfortable. In 1321, they are already expecting a first child, which is born at the end of the year. They name the little boy Irving.  Sadly, he dies of a lung defect early in 1322, for which they both blame themselves.

In 1323, Mariora gives birth to a second son, Nicolas. They don’t see Mariora’s mother much, which Mariora views as confirmation of her fears that her mother doesn’t need either of them anymore – Simon was only ever a stopgap for her because she never had any gifted children to pass her arcane knowledge onto, and maybe as a means to have gifted grandchildren, should he and Mariora fall in love, as she thought likely. Surprisingly, Mariora doesn’t feel saddened by this. She feels free.

In 1324, Nicolas ages up into a toddler while Mariora is already pregnant with her third child, which turns out to be her and Simon’s first daughter. They name her Misty.

1326 brings with it both tragedy and joy. Mariora gives birth to another healthy son, Christopher, but they lose Misty due to illness a few months after his birth.  

Luckily, Christopher doesn’t follow his sister’s fate, and ages up into a toddler in 1327. Around the same time, Mariora starts musing about finally leaving Lüghaven woods, because their only link to the outside world is Simon venturing out to do his odd jobs and sell some of Mariora’s elixirs at market. She isn’t unhappy with her life – in fact, she is happier than she could have imagined when she accepted Simon’s offer of marriage – but she doesn’t want to spend her whole life hiding.

In 1328, Mariora gives birth to her fifth child, a boy named Joseph.

In 1329, Nicolas ages up into a child. The peaceful birthday party turns heart-pounding when a fire breaks out due to Christopher’s magic becoming uncontrollable in his frustration at being ignored, but thankfully, no one is harmed. The experience leaves a sour taste in Nicolas’ mouth, however.

Later in the year, Joseph ages up into a toddler (without a birthday cake, this time) while Mariora is pregnant with yet another child. Their year ends with troubling news: while at market, Simon was beseeched by a terrified father to help his daughter, who was dying of an infected wound. As a father himself, Simon couldn’t look away and helped the girl heal. While noble, both he and Mariora know that publicly using his magic like that could have dire consequences if his deeds reach the ears of the wrong people.

The Townsend Family (Praaven)

Current members: 3

The Praaven branch of the Townsend family (not to be confused with the Tovar branch and the Lüghaven branch) is established in 1321, when Gregory Townsend moves to town to undergo an apprenticeship to become a painter with a member of the painters’ guild named Jeremiah Browne. Because his father and brother had to pay a fee to give him this chance and his ability to marry his childhood love, Agnes, depends on his success, he is determined not to squander it.

And he doesn’t. Over the next few years, he acquits himself well, so that in 1325, he is made a partner by Master Browne. Browne also encourages him to marry Agnes and have her move in with them to keep house.

Following that encouragement, Gregory and Agnes are married in a joyous celebration with all of Gregory’s extensive family and many friends in attendance in 1326. While Agnes is a little intimated to be marrying into such a large clan, she is welcomed with open arms by most of them.

In the following year, 1327, Agnes gives birth to their first son, Colbert. Sadly, the boy seems to be born with some sort of birth defect that prevents him from gaining strength, despite his mother’s efforts to nurse and care for him. He dies only a few weeks old.

Luckily, in 1329, Agnes gives birth to a second son, Wymark, who doesn’t face the same issues. By the end of the year, she is already expecting her and Gregory’s third child.

The Crawley Family

Current members: 3

At the beginning of the decade, the Crawley family consists of George and Anna Crawley and their two daughters, Annette and Theodora. Of these two, only Annette is their biological child; Theodora is the bastard of George’s younger sister Caroline, which they are playing off as Anna’s child by George. Their attempts to conceive another child – ideally a male heir to the Crawley name – have so far been unsuccessful.

In 1321, Theodora ages up into a child.

Excitement is raised in the Crawley household when Anna finally falls pregnant again. Sadly, the child she gives birth to in 1322 is not only a girl, but also stillborn.

To compound Anna’s misery, in Illness marches through the Crawley household in 1324 and almost claims her and George’s lives, while the girls, Mary and Matthew recover comparatively quickly. Luckily, both of them pull through, although it seems like a small miracle to most.

In 1325, Annette ages up into a teenager, which makes it imperative to find a good marriage for her. While Anna and George may yet have a son – they are only in their early thirties – the current lack of one makes Annette and Theodora eligible heiresses, and thus prizes on the marriage market which the Crawley elders, especially Mary, intend to see well settled. While Anna, George and Matthew would be content with her marrying a wealthy merchant or gentleman, Mary aims higher and intends to snare the young Baron Elbenhawke, her aunt Caroline’s stepson, for her. Annette is initially repulsed by being decided over like this, but her Crawley ambition asserts itself enough for her to go along with the plan.

She uses a family visit to Elbenhawke Hall in 1327 try to charm the baron, with questionable success. But regardless of the young lord’s own feelings, his guardians settle on another marriage for him, which puts and end to the Crawleys’ plans in that direction.

A year later, in 1328, Theodora ages up into a teenager. By then, George, Anna and George’s parents have identified a new potential husband for Annette: Alexandre de Bellefaye, the baron’s cousin and scion of a minor branch of an aristocratic French family. After meeting him and thinking through the possibilities such a marriage could mean for her, Annette – or rather, her father, who nonetheless consults her – agrees to it. 

The marriage takes place in 1329, after which Annette leaves her home. This means that only Theodora remains to be married of – but while her parents and grandparents are already looking for an equally profitable match for her, Theodora has her own ideas about where to seek love.

The de Bellefaye Family

Current members: 2

The most recently established household of the sprawling Townsend bloodline, it comes into being in 1329, right at the end of the decade, when Monsieur Alexandre de Bellefaye, youngest of the three sons of Henri and Joan (née Pelham) de Bellefaye marries Annette Crawley. The wedding is held in great state in Praaven Cathedral. It is all the more joyous for them because while they expected a marriage of convenience – with her gaining status and him gaining her sizable dowry – they become quite fond of each other over the course of their engagement and are looking forward to their married life. With the wealth Annette brings into the marriage and Alexandre’s connections as nephew of the countess and cousin of the baron, they are certainly a couple to take note of.

 By the end of the year, Annette starts feeling nauseous, which she hopes is the first sign of pregnancy.

The Watmore Family

Current members: 1

Even at the beginning of the decade, the family isn’t big, consisting only of orphaned serf siblings Elsie and Wilfred Watmore. Because children that young can’t live on their own, they are being raised by their paternal uncles, Alaric and Noah. Neither of these men is pleased at having to take care of them, and are sometimes rather harsh with their niece and nephew.

In 1322, Wilfred ages up into a child. Sadly for him, that only means that he is old enough to take over duties on the fields.

In the following years, but especially 1325, the Watmore family gets into repeated arguments with a neighbouring serf family, the Bransons, about whose parcel of land ends where, which eventually leads to a brawl between Alaric and Freddy Branson. Because Sibyl Branson, Freddy’s mother, is tired of the constant conflict, she goes to the earl with her complaints, and the Watmores are threatened with a fine. This overshadows even the joyous occasion of Elsie aging up into a teenager.

Because the Watmores don’t have the money to pay the fine and to resolve the legal quarrel, the earl decrees in 1326 that Elsie is to marry Freddy Branson, with the disputed piece of land as her dowry. Her uncles are not pleased with this arrangement but have no leverage to refuse.

Accordingly, Elsie leaves the household after her marriage in 1328, at the age of fifteen.

In the following year, 1329, Wilfred ages up into a teenager. This means that he needs to soon start thinking about his own marriage prospects, but he isn’t too fond of the idea of settling down with a wife, especially after watching his sister’s none-too-happy marriage. Time will tell whether an intrepid young woman can win his heart and make him change that stance.

The Branson Family

Current members: 3

This household is established in 1328 upon the marriage of Elsie Watmore to Frederick “Freddy” Branson, the son of Sibyl Branson (formerly Crawley, the sister of Elsie’s aunt’s mother-in-law Mary) and Sibyl’s late husband Tom.

While the marriage itself was prearranged, Elsie has grown up socializing with the Branson children. Before her parents’ deaths, she had sometimes played with them, and since returning to the village after the famine, she has met them at church and during many gatherings at the village green. Despite the animosity over the piece of land, Elsie has always gotten along well with Freddy and while not overjoyed about the marriage, she has been able to bear it with equanimity. Until the moment that Freddy forces her to hasten it by consummating it early against her wishes. This breach of trust not only cools her relationship with her new husband, but also leaves her feeling unprepared for being a wife. Her only consolation is that his family, especially his mother, is very kind to her.

Other than Freddy and Sibyl, the family consists of Sibyl’s new husband, their son Michael, and Freddy’s older sister Corinne, who is pregnant out of wedlock, but refuses to name the father.

Soon after her marriage, Elsie does indeed soon find out that she is pregnant, which at least gives her the comfort of having acted wisely. Her grandfather Benedict visits her during her pregnancy and is worried at her tired look, but can only tell her to keep her chin up and make the best out of her situation.

In 1329, Elsie gives birth to her and Freddy’s first son, Elton. Despite having lived with the Bransons for more than half a year, she is still struggling with finding her footing in the family and to acclimate to motherhood. Sibyl remains to be her biggest supporter and does what she can to comfort her.

The Chevalier Family

Current members: 4

At the beginning of the decade, Robert is still Robert Townsend, a squire to his half-brother, the earl of Petersmarch, and betrothed to Mademoiselle Elisaria de Bellefaye, to be married once he receives his knighthood. Even before then, he and Elisaria are close to Lord and Lady Petersmarch, a status they will continue to enjoy.

Robert is finally knighted in 1322 and weds Elisaria only months later. They change their surname to ‘Chevalier’, as a nod to her heritage and his profession, and are given the use of a small estate outside of Praaven by the earl as a wedding gift. Robert is still thinking about Katheryn, whom he shared a romance with in the previous decade, but determined to treat his wife well. This sense of duty soon blossoms into real love.

They have their first son in the following year, 1323, but sadly, the boy is stillborn. They name him Roman anyway and lay him to rest nearby.

In 1324, Elisaria gives birth to their second child, a healthy daughter named Marguerite. Unfortunately, their third child (and second son), Elijah, is born early in a tavern while they are en route home from a visit to another noble in 1325. The boy dies of a fever after they arrive home, much to their distress.

Some good news comes in 1326, when Marguerite ages up into a toddler. They celebrate this milestone in Praaven, since the earl and countess have invited them to put their daughter in the castle nursery, but Elisaria, who suffers from depression after the death of her second son, finds it hard to find joy in it.

Her spirits brighten a little when she gives birth to another healthy daughter, Jehanne, in 1327.

Around that time, they notice that their maid, Hawise, has started to develop an attachment to Robert’s nephew, Malcolm, who becomes a regular visitor in the Chevalier home. So, in 1328, Jehanne not only ages up into a toddler, but Robert and Elisaria also reveal to Hawise that they are in favour of her interest in Malcolm, provided he conducts himself properly.

In 1329, Elisaria gives birth to her third son (and fifth child), Landon, who actually survives his birth. Relieved by this, she and Robert begin to plan their girl’s education, now that they finally have a son and heir. But their joy doesn’t last long; they find Landon dead in his cradle a few months after his birth, which utterly devastates them and launches Elisaria into a crisis of faith, because she can’t understand why the Watcher would take all of her sons away from her.

The Dudley Family

Current members: 8 (Dudley branches), 4 (Penrith branch)

At the beginning of the decade, the aristocratic Dudley family consists of Ralph and Mary Dudley, the Earl and Countess of Petersmarch, their daughter and heiress Lady Maud, Lord Petersmarch’s sister Lady Gwendolen, brother Clement and Clement’s wife Lady Katheryn, as well as the siblings’ mother, the Dowager Countess Elizabeth.

For the Dudleys, 1320 begins with a joyous event: Lady Gwendolen marries Arnulf Penrith, the earl of Windermere, thus becoming a countess, as arranged for her by her brother. They hold the marriage in great state, before she leaves to live with her husband at his seat, which is only a few days’ travel away. The other joyous occasion of the year is Lady Maud aging up into a toddler.

Over the following years, the new Lady Windermere (Gwendolen) gives birth to several children: a son and heir, Vincent, in 1321, and a daughter, Lady Viviane, in 1322. In that same year, Vincent ages up into a toddler.

But there is some trouble in that year as well. Near the end of it, Lady Katheryn discovers that she is expecting her second child and tries to flee to her father’s estate. Her marriage with Clement has never been easy, and she especially doesn’t want his influence on any child of hers, least of all on a son. She makes a halt at Amrhein Hall, where the Dowager Countess resides and where Lady Windermere happens to be a guest, and tells them about what has happened. The Dowager Countess disapproves but promises not to detain her. Unfortunately for her, this promise becomes meaningless when her husband catches up to her before she can continue her travels, and forces her to return to Praaven with him. This worsens their already contentious marriage further.

Regardless of this, in the following year, 1323, she gives birth to her child, a son named Ralph III after Clement's late father. Lady Windermere gives birth to another daughter, Lady Margaret. Sadly, the girl doesn’t survive birth long, but as if to make up for that, Lady Viviane successfully ages up into a toddler.

Much to Clement’s chagrin, the countess falls pregnant again and gives birth to another son in 1324, hopefully averting the looming succession crisis. Her and the earl have had several sons before, but all of them died young during the famine of the previous decade. They name this new son and heir Robin. In the same year, Lady Maud ages up into a child.

In 1325, Ralph III, Clement and Katheryn’s son, ages up into a toddler, followed by his younger cousin Robin in 1326. Both of them continue to be in good health. This is followed by Lord and Lady Windermere’s surviving children, Vincent and Viviane, aging up into children in 1327 and 1328 respectively. The last birthday of the decade is Ralph III aging up into a child in 1329.

The Pelham Family

Current members: 5

At the beginning of the decade, the Pelham family consists of Peter Pelham (the aging Baron Elbenhawke), his widowed daughter-in-law Caroline, née Crawley, his grandson and heir Richard and Caroline’s young children, David and Josephine. And while for the Dudleys, the year begins with a wedding, for the Pelhams, it begins with sorrow.

Because in 1320, Baron Elbenhawke, who has been such a support for Caorline after the death of her husband has left her position uncertain, dies in his sleep, thus making his grandson Richard the new Lord Elbenhawke at only six years old. The running of the estate is swiftly taken over by regents, who will care for the land until young Richard is old enough to manage them himself. Luckily, Caroline is allowed to stay, to order the household and care for the children.

After that, life goes on. In 1322, David ages up into a child, followed by his sister Josephine in 1323. Already regular guests for feasts at the Hall, Anna and her daughters travel out from Praaven to attend the birthday celebration. And as always, Caroline is wistful that she can’t tell Theodora that she is really her mother.

Some peaceful years pass, and in 1326, Richard, the young Lord Elbenhawke, ages up into a teen, ready to take over the running of his lands and to look for a bride of his own, to ensure the continuation of the family line. If he notices that his Crawley relations would like for Annette to fill the role as his baroness, he never breathes a word of this knowledge to them or his stepmother.

In 1327, Caroline causes furore in Anna Crawley’s life once again by admitting to her that she has fallen pregnant out of wedlock with the child of a lover; apparently, she has been “seeing” her steward for a while now, a rare glimpse of happiness in her otherwise rather melancholy life. While happy for her friend, Anna can only really shake her head at her. Luckily, this time around, the father-to-be knows of the child and has rectified the situation by offering her marriage, which Caorline accepts.

In the same year, Richard is betrothed to a young noblewoman named Lady Lettice Adair.

In 1328, Caroline gives birth to a daughter, Isabel, attended by Anna. The birth almost claims her life, but the Grim Reaper decides to spare her.

And finally, in 1329, David ages up into a teen, which means that he, too, will soon need to go on the hunt for a suitable bride.

And that is it, at least for this decade. That was quite a lot to get through (and took a while to put together), but I hope some of you find this helpful. If anyone has actually read this far, that is, in which case: thank you!

I’m actually very much looking forward to what comes next for my sims. Not so much because of big historical events, although there is the Hundred Years War coming in the next decade, but mostly because of the stories I have planned. I am really excited to see what becomes of the Townsends’ nectar business, how Malcolm’s and Hawise’s relationship will develop once it becomes clear that he has no interest in spending time with their kids, where Amye’s path might lead her, and how the story I have planned for one of the side households pans out…

Which doesn’t mean that the social upheavals that will follow in the next few decades aren't interesting. That will be fun, too. The beginning years of the Hundred Years war aren’t too exciting, to be honest, but…well…

The clock’s ticking down to the Black Death in 18 years. Let’s enjoy the last decade without that hanging over our sims’ heads.

See you first to a few other posts and polls and then in 1330!

Previous: 1329 Statistic | 1310 - 1319 Recap <--> Next: 1320 - 1329 Deaths | 1330 - 1339 Recap

[musicaltheatregirlsandsongs]

Hi! I finished up the list of songs that made it in, I still need to make the brackets, and will post those once they’re done! Complete list under the cut

A Little Fall of Rain - Les Misérables

A Little Priest - Sweeney Todd

A Musical - Something Rotten

Agony - Into the Woods

All you wanna do - Six

Another National Anthem - Assassins

Another Suitcase in Another Hall - Evita

Anthem - Chess

Any Kind of Dead Person - Ghost Quartet

Anything you can do (I can do better) - Annie Get Your Gun

Balaga - Natasha, Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812

Being Alive - Company

Belle - Notre-Dame de Paris

Brain Dead - A New Brain

Burn - Hamilton

Cabaret - Cabaret

Carnaval del Barrio - In the Heights

Carrying the Banner - Newsies

Cell Block Tango - Chicago

Chant - Hadestown

Come what may - Moulin Rouge

Confrontation - Jekyll & Hyde

Costume Party - Come from Away

Dead Girl Walking - Heathers

Dead Mom - Beetlejuice

Defying Gravity - Wicked

Dentist! - Little Shop of Horrors

Die Schatten werden länger - Elisabeth

Don’t Rain On My Parade - Funny Girl

Drink with me - Les Misérables

Dust and Ashes - Natasha, Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812

El tango de Roxanne - Moulin Rouge

Epic III - Hadestown

Epiphany - Sweeney Todd

Esmeralda - the Hunchback of Notre-Dame

Everybody’s got the right - Assassins

Feast or famine - Black Friday

Feed Me (Git It!) - Little Shop of Horrors

For Good - Wicked

Get Down - Six

Gethsemane (I only want to say) - Jesus Christ Superstar

Giants in the sky - Into the Woods

Glory - Pippin

Go Tonight - The Mad One’s

Good Kid - the lightning thief

Heaven on their Minds - Jesus Christ Superstar

Holding to the Ground - Falsettos

How Can Love Survive - The Sound of Music

I’m Alive - Next to Normal

I’m Breaking Down - Falsettos

Ich gehör nur mir - Elisabeth

If I had my time again - Groundhog Day

If I were a rich man - Fiddler on the Roof

Inevitable - The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals

Independently Owned - Shucked

Joseon Swag (조선수액) - Swag Age: Shout Out, Joseon! (스웨그에이지: 외쳐, 조선!)

Judas - Clown Bible

Juntton - Gambämark

King of New York - Newsies

Land of Yesterday - Anastasia

Le Monde est Stone - Starmania

Les Rois du Monde - Roméo et Juliette, de la haine à l’amour

Let it out - The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals

Letters - Natasha, Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812

Lilacs - Preludes

Loser Geek Whatever - Be More Chill

Losing My Mind - Follies

Love will come and find me again - Bandstand

Madame Guillotine - The Scarlet Pimpernel

Michael in the Bathroom - Be More Chill

My Grand Plan - the lightning thief

No One Else - Natasha, Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812

No One Remembers Achmed - Twisted

Noel’s Lament - Ride the Cyclone

Nonstop - Hamilton

On My Own - Les Misérables

On the Verge - Women on the Edge of a Nervous Breakdown

Once and for all - Newsies

One Day More - Les Misérables

Place, je passe - Mozart l’opéra rock

Popular - Wicked

Prologue - Natasha, Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812

Prologue: Tradition - Fiddler on the Roof

Quartet at the Ballet - Anastasia

Quiet - Matilda

Rebecca Reprise - Rebecca

Requiem - Dear Evan Hansen

Revolting Children - Matilda

Ring of Keys - Fun Home

Santa Fe - Newsies

Seize the Day - Newsies

Sick to Death of Alice-ness - Alice by Heart

Skid Row (Downtown) - Little Shop of Horrors

Solo - Octet

Starchild - Ghost Quartet

Sweet Transvestite - Rocky Horror Show

Talia - Ride the Cyclone

Telephone Wire - Fun Home

The Ballad of Jane Doe - Ride the Cyclone

The I Love You Song - The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee

The New World - Songs for a New World

The Opera - Natasha, Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812

The Pitiful Children - Be More Chill

The Point of No Return - The Phantom of the Opera

The Song of Purple Summer - Spring Awakening

The Starry Night - Starry

The Thrill of First Love - Falsettos

The Torture Tango - Spies are Forever

The Turning of the Key - The Clockmaker’s Daughter

There! Right There! - Legally Blonde

This World Will Remember Us - Bonnie & Clyde

Time Warp - Rocky Horror Show

Tonight (Quintet) - West Side Story

Touch Me - Spring Awakening

Twisted - Twisted

Unlikely Lovers - Falsettos

Usher Pt. 3 - Ghost Quartet

Wait For Me - Hadestown

Wait For Me (Reprise) - Hadestown

Waving Through A Window - Dear Evan Hansen

Wenn ich tanzen will - Elisabeth

What would I do - Falsettos

When the going gets tough - Spongebob Squarepants

Wilkommen - Cabaret

You Gotta Die Sometime - Falsettos

Your Daddy’s Son - Ragtime

Your Fault/Last Midnight - Into the Woods

30/90 - Tick, Tick… Boom

[lopadopalis]

Haiti is currently experiencing the prelude to genocide.

I don't know if anyone will find this, I don't even know how reliable some of these sources' details are, but something must be said.

A day ago, the Dominican Republic and Haiti had an armed standoff. They clashed over the border a month ago because of Haiti building a canal that would make them more independent from the DR.

Refugees were progressively fleeing to Nicaragua to get away from the country's ongoing spiral, but that door recently closed. It may have opened back up, I'm not certain, but the government of Haiti has gone ahead and banned flights to Nicaragua anyway.

The Dominican Republic also wants to build an actual fucking wall, and is partnered with Israel, who are currently killing Palestinians in utterly disproportionate and sickening so-called retribution.

The Dominican Republic has good relations with the United States. This post is from just eight days ago, from Biden himself.

In summary: 1. Haiti's bid to cope with their own water crisis has led to the Dominican Republic closing the border. 2. There are currently border clashes between Haiti and DR. 3. Haitians have been fleeing to Nicaragua, but the door has been closed by their own government. 4. DR has close ties with the US, so they're likely to back the DR. 5. People are dying.

I don't live anywhere near Haiti, nor am I physically affected by the unfolding situation. I don't know how bloody things really are getting in there, or how accurate some of this news is (lord knows accurate news on unfolding genocides is horrendously difficult to find), but if there's even a chance that this is actually fucking happening right now, then it needs to be said. It needs to be known. Because things are about to get very ugly.

[ltwilliammowett]

The Raid of the Medway, 12–14 June 1667

“And, the truth is, I do fear so much that the whole kingdom is undone”

These were the words of Samuel Pepys Chief Secretary to the Admiralty (1633-1703), taken from his diary entry on 12th June 1667, a stark reminder of the victorious Dutch attack launched on the unsuspecting Royal Navy. This attack became known as the Raid on Medway, a humiliating loss for England and one of the worst in the history of the Royal Navy.

The dates here refer to the Julian calendar used in England at that time.

The Prelude

After the end of the first Anglo-Dutch War in 1654, the restoration of the monarchy had taken place in England with the return of King Charles II (1630-1685). The latter needed financial resources for a government independent of Parliament, which he hoped to gain through the spoils of another war against the United Netherlands. He was supported in this by the ambitions of the Royal African Company to damage the Dutch competition. In the spring of 1665, open warfare broke out. After the initial fighting, the Dutch won the Battle of Four Days in June 1666 and thought they had gained the upper hand. A few weeks later, however, the English fleet regained naval supremacy in the North Sea in the "St. James's Day Fight". As a result, the Royal Navy interdicted Dutch shipping and English captains raided places along the coast. The most famous case occurred on 20 August 1666, when Vice-Admiral Robert Holmes (1622-1692) burned down the village of Ter Schelling on the island of Terschelling and sank 140 to 150 merchant ships anchored in nearby Vlie. This event became known and celebrated in England as Holmes's Bonfire. Afterwards, the English fleet retreated to its own waters.

The raid of the Medway, by Willem van der Stoop (–1665) (x)

War weariness grew in the States General as the costs strained the national budget and confidence in the ally France had waned. After the catastrophic losses of the merchant ships at Terschelling, the Dutch opened peace negotiations under Swedish mediation. But English finances were also exhausted. The war had not brought the hoped-for profits, and Parliament refused to grant new funds for warfare after it emerged that some of the money granted had gone to the king's expensive court. Added to this were the losses caused by the severely impaired maritime trade, the great plague epidemic of 1665 and the "Great Fire of London". Against the opposition of Admiral Monck (1608-1670), King Charles II therefore ordered in the winter of 1666/67 that the large ships of the line be dismantled and decommissioned. The war was to be continued only with privateers in order to damage Dutch trade.

Meanwhile, at the peace congress in Breda, the English envoys had been instructed to reach as advantageous a conclusion as possible. Against the background of the last successes in 1666, Charles II dragged out the negotiations in order to end the war with a profit, even though he had had his only means of pressure, the fleet, de-rigged. The United Netherlands were not prepared to make concessions. Soon, however, they came under pressure from elsewhere. King Louis XIV of France (1638-1715) declared war on the Kingdom of Spain in May 1667 and began an invasion of the Spanish Netherlands to appropriate it. The United Netherlands was now forced to bring peace negotiations with England to an immediate conclusion so that it could concentrate on containing French expansionist intentions. To this end, it seemed necessary to Johan de Witt (1625-1672), the council pensioner and head of Dutch policy, to increase the pressure on England by directly attacking the island of Great Britain.

The Plan

The idea of landing troops on the British Isles was not new. Such plans had already been worked out after the victory of the Dutch fleet in the Battle of the Four Days. In the summer of 1666, Admiral Michiel de Ruyter (1606-1676) had taken about 6000 soldiers to the Thames estuary in addition to the fleet, in order to be able to intervene in a supportive manner in the event of a local uprising of the English population against Charles II. But such an uprising failed to materialise, and the transport ships were sent back to Dutch ports after a storm. Only a brief landing on the Isle of Thanet was achieved.

The burning of the English fleet off Chatham, 1667, likely painted by Willem van de Velde the Younger, 1670 (x)

In the summer of 1667, Johan de Witt was well informed by spies about the financial shortages of the English crown and also knew about the decommissioning of most English ships of the line, as well as about the situation of the sailor and dockyard employees who had not been paid for months. Despite his own financial strain, he now prepared the equipment for a Dutch expedition. They were to sail into the Thames Estuary, enter the River Medway and sail to the great dock at Chatham, where many of England's proudest warships lay. Once at their destination, the raiders were to sink or burn as many ships as possible, taking care to capture the best ships as prizes. Such a raid would be a severe blow to the power and prestige of England, for the Royal Navy was the pride of the island nation. Chastened and humiliated by defeat, the English might accept peace on Dutch terms.

The designated contingents of ships were gathered and prepared in various Dutch ports, while in April a squadron under Admiral Van Ghent attempted to enter the Firth of Forth. The main purpose of this enterprise was to provide cover for the main fleet, which assembled at the island of Texel in early June 1667. Admiral de Ruyter sailed along his own coasts, taking in the various contingents as he went. In the end, his fleet consisted of 64 ships of the line and frigates, 15 fireships, 7 escort ships and 13 galliots with a total of 3330 guns and about 17,500 men.

The attack begins

The Assault on Sheerness

The Dutch fleet reached the English coast at Harwich on 7 June 1667. The following day it sailed south along the coast and anchored off the Thames estuary. While doing so, she ran into a storm that forced a large number of ships to cut their anchor ropes and drift. This mainly affected troopships, which were no longer available for the following operations. At a council of war on board the flagship, the further course of action was discussed. Admiral de Ruyter had reservations about sending the entire fleet up the river, as he was not precisely informed about the whereabouts of the smaller English fleet units. Should they return unexpectedly and close the mouth of the Thames, the Dutch fleet would be trapped. Cornelis de Witt proposed that the main force itself should remain off the mouth of the river and a small detachment should guard the English Channel, while a squadron under Admiral Willem Joseph van Ghent (1626-1672) should advance up the Thames. There, this squadron was to attack some West Indian merchant ships at Gravesend, which had been reported by an intercepted Norwegian trader. Admiral van Ghent's squadron consisted of 17 smaller warships, four fireships, some yachts and galiots, and 1000 marines under Colonel Dolman. The squadron set off on the morning of 9 June and initially occupied Canvey Island. However, the wind then shifted and the English merchant ships, which in the meantime had been warned of the approaching Dutch warships, escaped upriver.

Sail to Chatham, Willem Schellinks, c. 1668 (x)

Cornelis de Witt now urged Admiral van Ghent to enter the Medway and attack the English fleet lying there. The entrance to this river was controlled by a fort still under construction at Sheerness on the Isle of Sheppey. However, to defend this key position, the English had only a weak Scottish garrison, 16 guns, the small frigate Unity and two lightships at their disposal. On 10 June, Admiral van Ghent attacked the fort. The Unity fired only a single broadside and then fled up the Medway, pursued by a Dutch fireship. The Dutch ships took the fort under fire for the next two hours and eventually landed 800 naval soldiers under Colonel Dolman. The fort garrison fled without offering serious resistance to the landing troops and the whole of the Isle of Sheppey was occupied by Van Ghent's forces. The battle for this important position had cost the Dutch about 50 men. The value of the 15 cannons and other goods captured in the process was 400,000 livres or four tons of gold, according to contemporary estimates.

Informed of the events on 9 June, George Monck, 1st Duke of Albemarle (1608-1670) received royal orders to organise the defence. Monck first inspected the installations on the Thames at Gravesend Fort and on the morning of 11 June went to Chatham on the Medway. There he found virtually no organised defence. At Gillingham an iron chain had been drawn across the course of the river, but it was too low. There were only three smaller ships to protect them: the Unity (44 guns), the Charles V and the Matthias (former Dutch merchantmen Carolus Quintus and Geldersche Ruyter). Otherwise, panic reigned. Of the more than 800 dock workers, almost all had fled or refused to help because of their unpaid wages. Out of thirty boats and ships, only ten were still to be found because refugees had used them to escape or local officials had evacuated their personal belongings on them. The Duke ordered the soldiers and officers he had brought with him to set up two coastal batteries on the shore by the chain, but even for this they lacked the necessary tools. To create further obstacles in front of the chain, Admiral Monck ordered fire ships to be sunk there. Two ships, the Norway Merchant and the Marmaduke, were successfully sunk, but the great Sancta Maria, which had also been designated as an obstacle, ran aground. Also on the scene was the large warship Royal Charles (88 guns), but it was completely unarmed.

Stern decoration of the Royal Charles, anonymous, c. 1663 - c. 1664 (x)

Admiral Monck ordered them upriver to safety, but there were not enough personnel to do so. When the Dutch attack came later, she was still lying unmanned on the shore. Among the more than 1100 workers in the docks at Chatham, there were few willing to help. Their pay was months in arrears, as the King lacked the financial means, and now they too refused to serve.

The breakthrough at Gillingham

On the morning of 12 June, the Dutch units began their advance in the Medway. The narrowness of the channel forced the ships to sail one behind the other in a single line. In the lead was the Vrede under the command of her captain Jan van Brakel. The captain had been placed under arrest two days earlier for allowing his men to plunder on the Isle of Sheppey. In order to restore his reputation, he had now voluntarily taken over the top position. Brakel's ship soon came under the crossfire of the three English defensive ships and the two coastal batteries.

However, he steered straight for the Unity without firing and gave her a broadside at point-blank range. The English crew then fled the ship and left it to the Dutch. Under cover of the powder smoke, the two following brander under Brakel's command also approached and sank the English ships Charles V and Matthias in quick succession. The iron chain was subsequently broken during the first ramming attempt (there are some discrepancies in the tradition here, some historians also think that it was simply sailed over because it lay so far in the water and were actually useless).

From the left ;  "Agatha" , "Beschermer" , "Charles V" , "Propatia"  , The "Royal Charles"  , "Matthias"   and a Dutch Admirals yacht, by Jan de Quelery (x)

The Dutch ships now had free passage up the Medway, because behind the chain there was a wide gap between the sunk English ships, which should have been closed by the sinking of the Sancta Maria. The following Dutch frigates soon silenced the English coastal batteries with their fire, whose fire had been almost ineffective anyway due to structural deficiencies. The biggest prize of the day for the Dutch fleet was the Royal Charles which had often served as a flagship for the English fleet commanders. Btw the Dutch did not take her into naval service because it was considered that she drew too much water for general use on the Dutch coast. Instead the Royal Charles was permanently drydocked near Hellevoetsluis as a public attraction, with day trips being organised for large parties, often of foreign state guests. After vehement protests by Charles that this insulted his honour, the official visits were ended when she was auctioned for scrap in 1673.

Raid at Upnor Castle

Meanwhile, the English were making defensive preparations at Upnor Castle. The Duke of Albemarle and Peter Pett, the commander of the docks, put the castle's guns on standby and set up another battery on the far bank. The attempt to stretch another chain across the river failed. Now they wanted to bring the warships towards Chatham, but again there were not enough men. To at least save the largest warships from capture, the Duke of Albemarle ordered them to be sunk in low water where they could be raised again later.

The Dutch before Upnor Castle, by Jan de Quelery (x)

Late in the afternoon of 12 June, the Dutch advance was halted by the state of the tide. On board the captured Royal Charles, Van Ghent, De Ruyter and De Witt met to discuss further action. These three commanders decided to push further upriver the following day and attack the Chatham Dockyards and the large warships located there. At midday on 13 June, the remaining Dutch braders, protected by four frigates and a larger number of smaller ships, attacked the English positions. They were soon caught in the crossfire between Upnor Castle and the battery hastily raised on the opposite bank of the river. A detachment of naval soldiers landed and moved to attack the English ammunition magazine at Upnor Castle, which they successfully blew up before withdrawing again.

The bombardment of Upnore Castle by Arnold de Lange (x)

In the meantime, the Dutch ships fired on the English gun batteries. While the battle was still going on, a calm set in, forcing De Ruyter and other officers to transfer to longboats in order to direct the actions of their units from them. After a fierce firefight, the Dutch fireships succeeded in attacking the three large warships lying on the shore, Loyal London (92 guns), Royal Oak (76 guns) and Royal James (82 guns). The water in which these ships had been sunk by the English themselves was not shallow enough to offer protection even against an arson attack. All three ships fell victim to the Dutch fireships after their hull crews fled. The Duke of Albemarle, meanwhile, tried to tow the remaining warships upriver under the protection of Chatham's guns. He lined up battle-ready warships on the banks and gathered militia troops to halt the Dutch advance. In fact, the Dutch ships went no further against the stiffening English resistance. Late in the afternoon they retreated with the rising tide as far as Gillingham. There they made the captured English ships Royal Charles and Unity seaworthy and left the Medway on 14 June. The losses from the battle in front of Upnor Castle amounted to about 500 men on the English side, while it is assumed that the Dutch lost between 50 and 150 men.

The aftermath

The Dutch raid on the English ships in the Medway became the biggest debacle of the war for the Royal Navy. It lost more ships than in all previous naval battles combined. The Royal Charles and the Unity had been captured by Dutchmen and the Loyal London, Royal James, Royal Oak, Charles V, Matthias, Marmaduke, Sancta Maria as well as five fireships, two ketches, a fleute and a smaller ship sunk or burnt. In contrast, the Dutch had deployed a total of ten fireships. In addition, there were further indirect losses of the Royal Navy. The Vanguard, for example, had drifted while attempting to ground her and eventually wrecked at Rochester so that she could no longer be lifted. Further north, beyond Gravesend, Prince Rupert had wanted to block the Thames to a possible Dutch advance by sinking the Golden Phoenix, House of Sweeds, Welcome and Leicester there. This turned out to be a sheer waste of important warships, as the Dutch never advanced further than Gravesend. All in all, these losses - especially those of the three large warships - changed the strategic balance between England and the United Netherlands in favour of the Dutch for years to come.

After this success, the Dutch were able to display their unrestricted superiority. One part of the Dutch fleet took action against the English merchant ships on the Channel coast, while another under Admiral Van Nes continued to blockade the Thames for English shipping. In smaller operations, Dutch troops still landed in some places or sailed warships up the Thames in the following weeks.

In London, the events on the banks of the Medway led to a severe economic collapse and panic among the population. Rumours said Chatham was on fire, as were Gravesend, Harwich, Queenborough, Colchester and Dover. Dutch landings at Portsmouth, Plymouth and Dartmouth were reported, and even claims that the king had fled; the Papists were about to take power. Even an imminent French landing was expected.

After the Raid on the Medway, Admiral Michiel de Ruyter, Admiral van Ghent and Cornelis de Witt each received a golden cup from the States of Holland (x)

The Dutch had taken up a position in the Thames by which they cut London off from trade. Coal supplies from the Tyne in particular were failing, and soon the price of coal increased tenfold. The English fleet was weakened by the raid and there was hardly any money available for its replenishment. King Charles II therefore had little choice but to instruct his envoys at the peace conference in Breda to conclude the treaty as soon as possible. The Peace of Breda was signed on 21 July 1667, and on 16 August the Dutch fleet abandoned the blockade of the English ports and the Thames estuary in accordance with the treaty. But England’s desire for revenge helped motivate another Anglo-Dutch War the following decade. But also an upgrade of the Navy as well as a change in the pay and living conditions of the Sailors which laid the foundation for one of the most powerful navies in the world. 

[balsamfir-fics]

a hope redefined (part 4, FINAL) [M]

Genres: angst, post S1 canon, more angst, romance, eventual smut, established childhood crushes to strangers to lovers, post-pining, becoming machine herald (sort of), dad!vik, political tensions, growing up, the human condition, some fluff

Pairing: Viktor/AFAB Reader

Warnings: series will have eventual smut, mentions of difficult pregnancy/injury/civil war. this prelude mentions spicy activities. she/her pronouns, but no use of YN.

Summary: Viktor shouldn’t be alive.

He shouldn’t have survived the blast of the Council attack, and even if he did his sands of time should have soon run out. And yet here he stands, part man and part machine, in a future he never planned for and an augmented body he never expected to have.

With no template to follow, Viktor forges a new path towards happiness as he grapples with reconciling the man he once was and the man he could become. Complicated as this path may be, he knows better than to waste an opportunity to spend his remaining years with you, the person he’s kept in his heart ever since you were children. Amidst the chaos of an antebellum Runeterra, Viktor finds his freedom, his future, and his family -- retelling these events through vignettes and letters to his daughter.

Chapters: Prelude | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 [M]

Chapter Word Count: ~3.65k

Author Notes: Unedited. Threequel and final part to a hope never forgotten and a hope at risk. This can be read independently of its predecessors, though reading those first will better contextualize Viktor and YN’s relationship.

It’s a bit of a comical sight, with Robin toddling along at the tender age of one and Heimerdinger at god-knows-how-old, with the grandfather and granddaughter very nearly the same height. At least, it makes Jayce laugh whenever he sees the Yordle and his adorable grandchild, but Viktor and you have long had time to get used to Robin growing out of Heimerdinger’s arms.

Today the family strolls leisurely across the grounds of the Heimerdinger Estate, enjoying (as best as anyone can) a warm and sunny day in the midst of a detente. Outside the glittering gates you can worry about the stalemate, but for at least the next hour you can enjoy the breeze and a picnic with your toddler.

Robin trips a little too close to a fountain, and Heimerdinger’s unfortunately not accompanied by his collection of Hextech gadgetry to be able to sweep the little girl away from the edge. Viktor steps in, a father too attuned to his child’s safety, and effortlessly collects Robin into his arms. She giggles in triumph, relishing in the exasperated but lovingly annoyed expression Viktor pulls at her.

He still marvels at the sequence of events that led him to becoming a father in his latter thirties; he hadn’t expected to make it to thirty at one point, and had long known his mental forecast of fatherhood — as hypothetical as it had felt years ago — wouldn’t allow him to physically chase after a child to the same extent as younger, more able-bodied parents. But now, as he squeezes his little girl in his arms, he marvels at how his augments allow him the physical agility needed to dart after Robin when she gets too close to danger. The fact that he can use this knowledge and his expertise to help those who need such aids for an improved quality of life is even more bewildering to him, but he is eternally grateful that he is able to do so.

Viktor spends a few minutes chasing after Robin in a grassy patch; despite his augments, it’s still wildly uncomfortable to chase after such a short being with one’s back hunched over. It’s one of the unexpected negatives of his newfound height and strength — when he was shorter, the amount he’d have to stoop was far more manageable.

When he finally manages to chase Robin back towards you and your father, he catches only the tail end of your conversation.

“My offer still stands, you know,” the Yordle says affectionately, reaching out with arms wide open (Robin burbles and runs right into them). “There’s far too much space in the Estate for me to fill it myself. You three could have a home right here on the main grounds, choosing from any wing you’d like — and it would allow me to selfishly be closer to this little darling as she grows.” When you open your mouth to politely turn down his offer, again, Heimerdinger decides to clarify his stance. “It’s not simply that,” he admits, face downcast as he remembers his late colleagues and the casualties incurred by the war thus far. “It’s rather that the past few years have only taught me that family and love are more important than ever before.”

You and Viktor exchange concerned glances at the weary posture Heimerdinger takes. Your father embraces his grandchild tenderly, curling himself around her as if to protect her from all the threats beyond the Estate gates. Something in Viktor’s amber irises causes you to raise your eyebrows and tilt your head in your adoptive father’s direction. Squatting low to the ground, you extricate your daughter from her grandfather’s embrace and gently proposition her to ‘come on a walk with Mama?’ — then you step away, giving the other two time to talk privately.

————————————————————————————————————————

Viktor fondly watches you and Robin head into the main building, where staff immediately crouch to shower Robin with endless praise. Then he turns, looking for his former mentor, and jogs with an ever-so-slightly uneven pace after the Yordle. He’s always been impressed with how much ground Heimerdinger can cover when one isn’t looking. He follows Heimerdinger to a familiar corner of the estate; the architecture of the buildings here have always reminded Viktor of some parts of Zaun. His lips lift at old memories of him running here after a frustrating fight with you, or whenever he missed home.

Viktor’s pace slows to a measured walk as he approaches where Heimerdinger is lost in thought.

“Professor,” he starts, calling the Yordle’s attention. “I’ve never minded living here. I’m not against it in the slightest.”

Heimerdinger smiles at that, but knows that Viktor needs to continue.

“Okay, I will admit that it does at time feel like a farce — for me, at least, the little sickly Zaunite boy you gave a scholarship and a home.”

“Viktor, my boy,” Heimerdinger chuckles. “Everyone is a part of several worlds, many of which seem completely separate when you don’t account for that fact that it’s the people who bridge them who break down those walls. When I was removed from the Council, I was given back the free time I once had to travel beyond the bridges and meet people outside of Piltover once again. I met brilliant young minds who were just like you, and they reminded me that I should use my long life of knowledge to help our formerly joined cities find peace and cooperation rather than fostering meaningless separation. I admit I was naive; too fearful of magic, too trusting of my fellow councillors — I mistakenly thought that if I shielded us all from the sins of the past that I could prevent them from happening again. I forgot, in my age and willful ignorance, that free will can be used for good and for bad; that giving bright minds hundreds of thousands in scholarships will not always result in cases like yours.”

“Professor, you gave me access to resources that would let me achieve my dreams,” Viktor urges, perhaps to comfort his mentor’s lamentations. But Heimerdinger shakes his head and raises a small hand.

“I should have supported you and young Jayce earlier; perhaps then your work might not have been exploited to this extent. The things you uncovered; the technologies you built — they changed the world!” He praises his protege, then frowns slightly as he takes Viktor’s hands into his. “But of course, caution is still necessary.”

Viktor swallows thickly, but is in full agreement.

“I want to offer you unfettered access to funding from my personal coffers for an academy in Emberflit Alley,” Heimerdinger says much to Viktor’s surprise. “Not,” the professor’s voice takes a warning tone. “…Not the laboratory-cum-operating room you have, though I will still provide limited but stable funding there. You understand, my boy, that I do not want your work to be corrupted by those with nefarious interests, and I want you to be careful with your work both on yourself and on others.” (Viktor nods, again in agreement).

“This isn’t a bribe for us to move back to the Estate, is it?” Viktor teases, of course — you and he had already decided to alternate your time in Piltover and Zaun for Robin’s benefit as a child of both.

“Certainly not!” Heimerdinger has the sense to sound mildly offended, but breaks into a smile. “I just think that it might be better to help you teach wherever you might be needed more, and for the moment I don’t think it’s the university of Piltover’s students that would most benefit from your intelligence.”

Viktor’s floored at the gift. No words make it from his swirling thoughts to his mouth, but the professor seems to understand.

“You’re my son, my boy,” says Heimerdinger now. “Through my daughter, of course, but I have always cared for you ever since you came to study with me.” Then, sensing that Viktor might short-circuit from the outpouring of affection, Heimerdinger laughs and suggests they find you and your daughter inside. 

————————————————————————————————————————

Watching you explore the world we live in is a great joy; it’s incredibly funny at times, because you have so much to learn, and other times completely gut-wrenching because the way you see it is so incredibly pure. It’s my job (with Mama!) to preserve that as long as we can, and I hope so far we’ve been doing well with that.

You walk a lot now, and when I say a lot I mean quite a lot. I’ve had to specifically exercise my unaugmented leg in order to maintain physical balance between the two and keep up with you. Even Uncle Jayce has a hard time — you’re quite the speedster! Now that you’re able to stand on your own two feet with less help, I have a task I’m going to give you soon.

It’s related to a little secret of mine; I’m telling you here first because I need to let it out somewhere or else I might risk revealing it by accident. Little bird, I’m going to propose to Mama, finally. Many years ago, when your mother and I were long-separated and I missed her, I would fall asleep and dream of the most beautiful things that were impossibilities once I woke up. But now they’re not-so-impossible. In fact, at this point I feel that a wedding would be more of a formality than not.

But in the past time we’ve been together, there have been a great number of things in the way from your mother and I being in the same place, safely, for more than a few months at a time. I have hopes that the universe might comply with my marital vows and allow us to have the requisite peace needed to stay united, with you in our care, every day.

Mama is asleep right now, as well as your grandfather. I thought about where I’d want to ask her to marry me, and almost did it back at the flat in Emberflit Alley when I first finished making her ring. But we’re mere rooms away from the two that your mother and I grew up in, and I think I’d like to propose to her in our old playroom where we made so many memories (and where we hope you make many more memories, too). A lot of things happened in that room, but I’ve never known sadness in that room specifically. It’s a happy place to make happy memories, so it seems fitting to raise the question while we are both here.

I did think about waiting until this is all over; by this I mean the war in Valoran that seems to be with Noxus but is really about the void. But your grandfather wisely reminded me that family and love are what we should hold to now more than ever. I can’t guarantee the outcome of the war, but I can guarantee how much I love you and your mother.

Tomorrow after lunch, I’ll ask Mama to come read a letter I’ve hidden in our childhood bookcase. You’ll probably be playing nearby with our old toys. Then, when she’s done with the letter, she’ll turn around and I’ll be kneeling. Hopefully you’ll be in one of my arms (probably squirming, I expect, because you won’t understand what’s happening), and the ring will be in my other hand. We’ll see what happens. Realistically, I know she’ll say yes, but despite that somehow I can’t help but feel nervous.

————————————————————————————————————————

Uncle Jayce came by for lunch for some reason; maybe he was lonely, or bored. Either way, I wish he weren’t here; I’m not in a mind to talk to him as I’m too worried about whether my proposal will go smoothly. 

————————————————————————————————————————

I realize you’ll know the outcome by the time you read these letters (and the scrap of napkin I enclosed just before this one) — but your mother and I are now engaged. Presumably we’ll have gotten married within a reasonable timeframe, but given how excited your grandfather seems about the wedding itself, I wonder whether your mother and I will survive all the planning.

Maybe we’ll elope. 

————————————————————————————————————————

Little Robin, you’ve been such a wonderful flower-girl. I’m a bit tipsy, or perhaps more than tipsy right now, but as I’ve gotten into the habit of writing to you before bed, I picked up the paper and started writing before I realized what I was doing. Please forgivve your very drunk, very happy, very married father for his transgressions. 

Robin, this is your mother — you certainly were the best flower-girl that anyone could ask for. I’ll make sure to hide his letter-writing materials whenever your father is drunk, though really I blame this on your Uncle Jayce and his passing of rather hard drinks to your father all night long. Anyway, you’re sleeping soundly a few rooms away under the care of the Estate staff, who were very keen on wrestling you out of my arms and locking your father and I into our room; I know they adore you but it was still a bit odd, I think, but in the least I know you are safe — ohhhhhhhhhhh. 

————————————————————————————————————————

Apologies for failing to write in a timely fashion, though of course as you read these the gaps won’t be noticeable. I read back some of the last few letters and I’ve a mind to only let you read these when you become an adult, or perhaps if you yourself get married someday then these might be a gift to you as a testament of our love for each other and to you. Regardless, I do think you’ll only be given this once you’ve reached maturity.

I suppose now is as good of a time to write about a number of things, including victory over the Void, promising peace treaties with Noxus, and your baby brother. But as I’m a little embarrassed by the last letter, despite the many months since then, I think it’s best to let your school-books cover the first two and your own experiences with your little brother, Altair, communicate the rest. 

————————————————————————————————————————

Blitzcrank clods by on the greens of the Heimerdinger Estate, watching over Robin and Altair (or rather, providing shoulder rides for the rambunctious two). They’d woken up incredibly early, but the night before you’d asked Blitzcrank to help distract them in that very event.

Viktor stirs beside you, grumbling at the sunlight that begins to streak in from the window. You can’t help it; you bite his shoulder in wicked glee. He turns beneath the covers, blearily blinking at you as he props himself up onto his shoulders.

“Didn’t you have enough last night, my sparrow?”

You flash him a grin. “Apparently not,” you muse, before wrapping yourself around him. Not that he minds; if this is what he gets for being lauded with a lifetime award at the university for his contributions to Hextechnology, so be it. It’s not every morning that they get to remotely sleep in without two kids jumping into your bed (thank goodness he’d made changes to his back brace when he did, because he’s quite sure that his children would have broken him long ago if he hadn’t).

Viktor hums now, pleased by your admission but still wondering where he might have been … insufficient. “I think you just might be insatiable,” he sighs. He settles back down into the bed and wraps his arms around your shoulders, relishing in the feeling of bare skin on bare skin.

“Perhaps,” you return. “I should think that it’s my right as your spouse to give you a run for your money.”

“That you do,” he laughs. Then he half-gasps, half-chokes; he’s surprised but not displeased by your curious fingers trailing up his thigh and closing around him. You smile at him, momentarily giving him a very innocent smile before disappearing beneath the covers. “Wait, my love, what—“ His words die on his lips as yours close around him. Viktor’s eyes roll up before he scrunches his eyelids shut; he allows himself an exhale to keep any shreds of self-control he has left. It doesn’t work that well, especially when the feeling of his fingers in your hair make you work more enthusiastically. “I really think—“  You don’t let him finish the thought, choosing instead to take advantage of his sensitivity left-over from the night before.

To his credit, once he catches his breath (and catches a glimpse of you looking like the cat that ate the canary), he turns the tables and drags you up over his face, using his hands to elicit reactions from anywhere and everywhere he can access. If the sounds you make and the creak of the headboard beneath your grip are anything to go by, Viktor has much to be proud of. He smiles against you, tongue taking experimental licks to see how you react to movements he doesn’t normally use. It delights him to know that he still holds so much of an effect over you despite the years of marriage and two children. His fingers grasp at your hips, trying to hold you steady so he can maintain his torturous pace on your clit, but you’re shifting and squirming even in his solid grip.

If there’s one complaint he has about pleasuring you like this, it’s that he can’t really say naughty things to you. But it matters little when even the slightest change in pressure has you whimpering and coming undone above him. He’s surprised at how sensitive he can make you, even though nights like these are plenty and frequent as compared to the long periods of waiting and anticipation you’d both been put through before. But Viktor chalks it up to a bit of luck and the feeling deep in his bones that he was meant to be yours and you his — not only in bed, but in heart and life and in family.

He knows he’ll still be incredibly embarrassed heading down to lunch later with the whole family (with the staff having no way of not knowing why you and Viktor failed to attend breakfast), but for now he puts his worries to rest and indulges himself in you, working you through high after high until he is convinced you have been sated at last.

When it’s your turn to gasp for breath and stare at the ceiling in post-coital recovery, Viktor stretches his long limbs and gets up to find the pyjamas you’d strewn about the room the night prior. He disappears briefly, but quickly reappears with two cups of warmed sweet-milk. Sitting at the edge of the bed and sipping at his carefully, he waits patiently for you to gather your bearings.

When you don’t, he peers curiously over the swell of the comforter to find you napping once more. He laughs — the milk is considerably cooler than when he’d brought it in, but not cool enough to have taken more than mere minutes. He leaves you be, changing into his day-clothes and heading out in search of his children. But Viktor makes it not two steps out side of the room before remembering to circle back and leave something for you to wake up to. He folks the paper and props it up against your glass of sweet-milk, then finally makes his escape. 

————————————————————————————————————————

Dearest, sleepiest Sparrow, 

You’re sprawled out in bed as our children cavort elsewhere on the grounds; I’ve brought you a warm drink that will probably be cold by the time you’re up, but it should be delicious regardless. It’s a small gift considering what you’ve given me throughout the years, but as we approach forty and still manage to have great fun like that, I know I’ll have many more opportunities to keep, hm, giving to you.

I’m off to find Robin and Altair, the two people I never in my wildest dreams thought I’d be able to meet. We’ve come so far and been through so much to greet them, and no matter how absolutely unexpected our lives turns’ may have been, it sometimes feels like this was the inevitable outcome all along. I don’t mind that much, though it’d have been much nicer to have some idea of what was to come when I was at the deepest lows of my life. Seventeen years now feels like a short period of time to have waited for our family and this future we share. Of course it hadn’t felt that way at the time, but here we are. Thank you for coming back into my life and for writing to me back then; for saving your letters instead of discarding those unsent.

I don’t know what the next seventeen will hold for us as the children grow up and find their own paths forward, but I am looking forward to what is to come so long as it is with you.

But for now, I hope you at least wake up at a reasonable hour and join us for lunch, so that we might cherish these short days while the children are young and relish in the warmth of family. And if you’re not awake by then, I’ll take it upon myself to find creative ways of getting you up… though perhaps my methods may be counterintuitive if this is how soundly you sleep when I choose how to bid you good morning. 

I’ll see you soon, but somehow I still can’t wait. 

Your Viktor

[thecurioustale]

Word Count Go Up

Proud of myself yesterday!

I don't recall to what extent I've mentioned it here, but I've really been struggling with my creative writing this season. This is my favorite time of the year, and it's the time of year where my hopes are always highest for creative productivity. Last year, in September of 2023, I had the single most creatively productive month ever, and that's including both Golden Ages (1999 – 2001 and 2014 – 2015), albeit the latter only barely, as I did do primary writing on the Prelude in like six weeks or something insane.

But this year, beset by financial stresses, health woes, and work commitments, I've been stretched really thin in creative follow-through power. I'm not suffering a lack of drive; I frequently want to write. It just usually falls apart when I sit myself in front of the screen to do it.

Yesterday, however, I had a weak idea for development of a new scene in Galaxy Federal, inspired by some personal pain and pathos related to things that I'm not going to get into, and, although my enthusiasm for it was lower than usual, I actually did sit down to write it. And despite the fact that my enthusiasm remained low all the way through, and I pulled away from it several times to regroup, in the end—and at the expense of a third of my waking day and a fierce headache—I got there: a complete, finished scene. Or the first draft of one, but you know what I mean: I wrote it from start to finish.

I don't know if it's any good! But it's there. And it's 3,277 words, which is in the sweet spot for me when it comes to judging my productivity and intuiting the proper scene length.

About half the scene length comes in the form of an unusual-for-me exercise of having to conceive and outline a fictional movie, as experienced through Cherry. This is challenging because it takes one of the biggest challenges I already face—creating coherent, compelling plots—and forcing me to do it all over again in miniature, but in a compelling, non-kitschy sort of way. I essentially had to write the concept for an entire, independent story. And I think I got there, thanks in part to the fact that spending such a brief amount of word count on it allowed me to insinuate many of the specifics and pacing and so forth rather than figure it all out explicitly.

[tarisilmarwen]

Rebels Rewatch: “Empire Day”/“Gathering Forces”

It’s the midwinter two-parter where Shit Gets Real and I realized for the first time, “Oh.  Oh this show is playing for keeps.”

I don’t envy TV writers, I really don’t.  It is a hard-ass balance sometimes between serialized and episodic entries, which is what most media seems to want to be, as opposed to completely serialized or completely episodic.

(The difference being that full episodic shows are “Jump in any time, there’s no overarching plot, you can just be here for the ride.” and serialized shows rely on you watching nearly every single episode to understand the continuity.)

What a lot of kids shows will do, I’ve found, to strike that balance, will be to have mostly episodic disconnected episodes (”fillers”) with a few “event” episodes here and there to advance the plot.  (For the best example I can think of, see 2003′s Teen Titans, majority episodic with a handful of plot arc episodes.)

Rebels is... not quite that because as I’ve said I really don’t consider any of these lead-up episodes “filler”; they’ve all contributed in some fashion to the overall Season One plot, all been woven pretty tightly, a testament to the strength of the writing.

It’s hard to know how to classify Rebels.  The episodes are independent enough that you can miss a handful and still have the general plot but truly episodic writing doesn’t bother to reference the events of previous episodes, or--especially in the case of kid cartoons--keep character growth in place across the seasons.  Rebels falls closer to Avatar: The Last Airbender in that regard, no surprise given the creative crossover behind the scenes.

All of this is sort of a roundabout way to say I was not expecting us to get into some really serious meaty plot developments seven episodes in.

[Insert Palpatine’s “A surprise to be sure, but a welcome one.” as you please.]

It was really quite a delight to see Rebels striking out with such confidence at big dramatic events early on, and it sticks the landing excellently.

Anyway, apologies for that long rambling prelude, let’s get into the episode proper.

Jhothal always seems a lot smaller in wide shots than it does on ground level.  It throws me.

Sabine is in a much better mood this episode and also seems... unusually interested in what Ezra and Kanan are doing.

She looks very purposefully to the side as she’s following Zeb, takes her helmet off, and stares across the field towards them.  Eyes soft, lips slightly pinched.

Recall if you will that one of the music tracks in the finale is called “Sabine Sees Ezra”.  It’s a bit of an undercurrent theme and visual motif with them.  She sees him.  She’s always kind of quietly watching, observing, noticing things with and about him.  Something I’ve always loved about their interactions is that for all the stubborn walls she has around her own emotions she’s always very dialed in and attuned to Ezra and how he’s feeling.  (And vice-versa.)

More to develop on that end later in the episode. :)

ALSO NO ONE TOUCH ME WITH THE KANERA “You could always see me.” PARALLELS IMMA CRY GKGFSKJH.

Dropping in closer on Kanan and Ezra’s Jedi lesson, and Kanan is trying to teach one of most core fundamental principals of the Force, via a bit of practical Beast Control.

“Step outside yourself.”  “Make a connection.”  “You’re not alone.”  “You’re connected to every living thing in the universe.”  “You have to let your guard down.”

It recalls Obi-Wan’s “Reach out with your feelings.”  In order for Ezra to progress any further in his training, he has to be able to reach out and connect with the Force.  But to do that, he has to let down his self-protective walls and be vulnerable and open, he has to be at peace within himself, he can’t have a messy ball of unprocessed emotions and traumas tangled up inside him.

The Force is your ally, but you have to be open to it.  Let go of the past, of your fears and whatever is holding you back, and make the connection.

It would be a hard enough lesson on a normal day, let alone one this significant for Ezra.

But he’s trying, dammit.

Love that all it takes is a stern, “Excuse me?” from Kanan for Ezra to back down from his outburst and apologize, and explain why he’s having trouble with this particular lesson.

Remember what I said about Ezra’s tendency to hug his arms self-protectively when he’s feeling insecure?

Yeah.

Also, for no particular reason, Loth-kitty meows:

CUUUUUUUUUTE. <3333

Kanan can tell that something’s up with his padawan, and probes.  And Ezra, unlike a certain other emotionally constipated character we could mention (*COUGHANAKINCOUGH*), doesn’t deflect but apologizes again and explains that Empire Day is never a good day for him.

Before we can learn the significance of why, exactly, the plot arrives.  Heralded by the opening notes of the Imperial March and just a bit of the Death Star leitmotif.  (An interesting choice.  An oblique allusion to the idea or element of a theft of secret Imperial plans perhaps?  Tseebo stole valuable information about future construction projects from the Empire and needs to be smuggled to the Rebellion after all.)

Love this shot of Ezra starting to reach for his slingshot.

And this is a new music cue and I like it!

Wow, that TIE pilot just smacked away the drink Jho just made for him, rude.

Not gonna lie, Ezra has a really nice death glare.  Do not get this boy angry.

No really, don’t, it uh... involves the Dark Side.

Imperial propaganda hooray!  Palpatine using old archival footage of himself pre-wrinklification for the holonet broadcast here, projecting himself as haler-looking than he actually is.

Given that Trayvis is actually an Imperial plant, I wonder if his encouraging the citizenry to make trouble was actually a ploy at getting Rebel cells to reveal themselves by protesting.

Kanan letting Ezra go be alone and decline to participate in the shenanigans is remarkably understanding.

Luke’s theme excerpt and then... oh shoot, I know this one but I can’t remember where in the OT score it is.  I think it’s part of the end credits?  Fittingly melancholy anyway.

Ezra kept his old house key. :(

And there’s his theme piping in here.

We know his parents are still alive at this point so this bit is either Force-assisted memory recall of things they said in the past, or the Force taking their voices on to gently spur Ezra into action.

Either way the Force is basically nudging him with a toe like, “C’mon... have character growth.“

I want to know whose idea it was to make the Imperial March into a diagetic (in-universe) song and tweak the harmonies into major key to turn it into a jaunty parade tune because that was genius.

“Governor Pryce sends her regrets.”  Lololol that bitch doesn’t regret ditching her backwater homeworld for a minute, she’s probably already schmoozing with Thrawn right now.

Budget constraints showing just a little bit in the copy/pasted extras there.  (The money went towards the animation in the second half of the two-parter I’ll bet lol.)  Fortunately they don’t linger long on the shot.

Rudor about to have his day ruined personally again. XD

Okay some of the budget probably went into the firework effects, let’s be honest.

It’s so pretty.

Kanan acting drunk to diffuse suspicion is both hilarious and hurtful given the whole former alcoholic thing.

Ezra pretending Kanan is his dad. <3333333

Sabine sounding genuinely concerned when she asks where Ezra went, which immediately makes him light up and tease her.  And Zeb’s the one that scoffs about it, interestingly.

After the events of “Breaking Ranks”, it seems like the Inquisitorius has figured out the Spectre Cell stays pretty close to home base on Lothal and since Grand was already there he’s been lurking.

Man, if Zeb could’ve just aimed a little lower...

Hard to tell what the black marks on Ezra’s house are.  Some of it looks like graffiti but some of looks like carbon scoring.  Or age?  Mold?  Cracks?  IDK.

Either way this whole scene hurts.

Ezra bluntly talking about the sterile facts of his past while shunting away any attempt to go into how he feels about it emotionally.  And meanwhile Kanan is just all:

*CONCERNED DAD NOISES*

Sabine, meanwhile, gets this wonderfully understated look of dismay when Tseebo reveals that it’s Ezra’s birthday.

I kind of wonder if Ezra maybe has a touch of psychometry?  Because him touching significant items like the disc and his house key and hearing voices from the past through the Force seems awfully like he’s experiencing Force Echos.

Fanficcers please write more Cal and Ezra meeting okay, I need it.

One of the biggest questions I still have about Ephraim and Mira is, did they know?  Could they tell?  I like to think they did.  I know it probably wouldn’t matter either way, they still would have spoken out, but I like the extra angst it generates.  Speculating about the fraught conversations they must’ve had--If they speak up will they paint a bigger target on his head?  How long can they hide it?  What could they do to make sure he’s safe should the worst happen to them?

Fanficcers please write Mira and Ephraim escaping with Ezra on The Path AUs, again, I need it.

Sabine makes her way down to call Ezra back up, asks about the disk, and my gosh she has such pretty concerned expressions this episode.

I adore her for this.  Ezra dismisses the disc as probably only having one of his parents’ broadcasts on it and she pockets it anyway, takes a look at what’s on it later.  Was it curiosity or was she hoping to find something encouraging on it to cheer him up with?  Or maybe both?

OH WOW I NEVER PICKED UP ON THE EMPIRE HAVING BLUEPRINTS AND PLANS FOR AN UPGRADED T-7 ION DISRUPTOR.  T-8S, A WHOLE BRAND NEW MODEL.  THAT’S HORRIFYING.

The “five year plan” for Lothal and every other Outer Rim world pinged fandom’s alarms like right away, because Rebels starts five years before the Battle of Yavin, so again, we were all assuming Death Star shenanigans.  Given the whole scope of the show and the construction modules in orbit by the finale I still think it fits.

Since a bunch of other worlds were involved as well, the “five year plan” could very easily be the timeline of when certain milestones of the station needed to be completed, how much raw material needed to come from where and when it needed to be delivered, what parts get built over various worlds, and how many TIEs needed to be manufactured to outfit it.

As the episode established earlier, Lothal is heavily involved in the development and construction of new kinds of TIEs.  Thrawn probably advocated for his Defenders to be made there because of the convenience of the existing factory infrastructure.

That and the fact that there’s a Jedi Temple and an apparently inordinate amount of Force Sensitive kids, and the kyber shipment they disrupted earlier, and Lothal was definitely also supplying kyber crystals for the laser.

LOLOL Tseebo running into walls like a glitching NPC.

Whew the transports are pretty sturdy, it just sheered off the AT-DP’s foot and upended another transport there.

Ezra’s laugh right here is so pure.

I’ve always wondered... where exactly does this highway go?

Underrated Papa Wolf Kanan moment: Kanan just smacking this bike trooper into the wall and wailing on him when he dares to raise a fist towards Ezra.

Oh!  And followed by him yanking that same bike trooper wholecloth out of the transport with the Force and yeeting him into the other one.

*sees bike troopers smack into the street light poles*  Oh they dead.  They 100% dead.

Takes like five shots from the Ghost to upend that pursuing transport, man these things are sturdy.

Holy crap the lighting in this sequence, did y’all notice???

Kanan’s badass leap onto the ramp. <33333

“I have to man to nose guns!”  And yet!  The moment she hears something happening back inside the room with Ezra she turns around.

Stays in the doorway long enough to translate.  And immediately realizes the significance of it.

Cut to black TO BE CONTINUED, I think I might have actually given an indignant Big No the first time I watched this.

One downside of this rewatch, I am noticing all the little moments where character pathways through the Ghost aren’t in cohesion with the actual ship layout.

Inside the galley, and Sabine has still not gone and got on the nose gun despite how supposedly urgent that is lol.  Hera has to yell at her over the comms.

And then Ezra has to poke her about it as well.  But she shoots back because dammit he has a chance to get closure about his past traumas, possibly reconcile with and see his parents again why is he not immediately jumping on this?  Doesn’t he know what she would give to have the same chance?

Ezra insists, through gritted teeth, that he already knows they’re dead, but there’s a flash of vulnerable uncertainty in his eyes.

But he won’t budge, he won’t talk about it, not to Sabine, not yet, and snaps at her to go, giving her his best death glare.  She’s stung a moment but finally gets moving.

But as soon as she’s gone the glare drops off his face and he turns around and shakes Tseebo for the answers and oh my gosh the fear and hurt flickering across his face here sfksjfhk.

Instead of answering, Tseebo starts babbling apologies, because apparently Ezra’s parents entrusted him with looking after Ezra and, for whatever reason, Tseebo couldn’t or wouldn’t take Ezra in.

I know I keep gushing about the animation for people’s expressions on this show but seriously, just watch Ezra’s face here, look at the disgust when Tseebo asks Ezra to forgive him, the tiny jerky little head movements.

He’s so hurt.  And it’s understandable, but it’s the reason why he’s blocked, why he can’t connect.

The Ghost, meanwhile has been trying to outrun TIEs and get into the clear long enough to make hyperspace calculations this whole time.  Modern Disney Lucasfilm sometimes has trouble remembering the franchise’s own technical lore and rules so I’m always appreciative when a writer remembers them.

Ezra does his best repair job to the navicomputer (even though it’s not his specialty) but implant-enhanced Tseebo is the one who actually saves the day, finishing the job in seconds and uploading coordinates directly into the computer.  If that’s what those cybernetic implants are capable of, no wonder the Empire’s fond of them.

Ezra plasters on a smile and hides behind his trademark snark to cope.

Side commentary on technical lore and mechanics because *plays the ~“Everything TLJ did, Rebels did better”~ record on a loop* the way ship tracking usually works in Star Wars is that your tracking device will send out a ping once the ship it’s attached to exits hyperspace, which assumedly beams out your location to the receiver.  You can’t track through hyperspace.  You can travel in hyperspace along the same general trajectory you saw the target ship leaving in (because hyperspace lanes are a thing) but you won’t know where it is specifically until it drops out to realspace, whereupon you can adjust your course accordingly.

The big thing in Last Jedi was supposed to be “Oh no, the Empire First Order can track us through hyperspace, we literally can’t escape them!“ which would have been a neat twist if Rebels had not literally already done that first and better.  The plot device here in Rebels is small, unobtrusive, and can easily be installed by an ace pilot with great aim or by a saboteur who knows all the good hiding spots on a vessel. (Speaking of, was there ever actually a spy in the Resistance Fleet I don’t know if that was ever followed up on?)  It’s not overcomplicated, and it accomplishes the same general effect.

TLJ on the other hand...

...Yeah I’m not going into that mess.

Tl:dr- I cannot stress enough how it’s really really important for your writers to talk to each other.

Off that tangent now.

The first thing we’re treated to in this scene is Sabine and Ezra playing I’m Not Looking At You.

(But I Totally Am)

Sabine’s silent concern is palpable, but she stays quiet.  Kanan, the other person who knows why Ezra’s upset, on the other hand, comes right out and grills Ezra directly.

And Ezra chooses to hide in one of his nicked cadet helmets.  (That Sabine painted for him.)

Kanan dishes more Basic Jedi Lessons 101: You have to be honest about what you’re feeling.  The Jedi practice a common therapy technique called mindfulness, which is all about being aware of your thoughts and feelings and why you’re feeling that way.  Mindfulness is important to help Jedi keep themselves in check, keep a level head about things, and understand themselves, which in turn is what enables them to understand and use the Force.  Serenity within self leads to serenity with the universe.

Needless to say, Ezra--with all his messy complicated feelings, unprocessed trauma, and layers of denial and defensiveness--is having trouble with that right now.  His sharp, “What’s that supposed to mean?!” recalls Anakin in The Phantom Menace, irritably asking the Council, “What does that got to do with anything?”, about the fear of loss they can sense festering inside him.

Kanan discerns the truth, that in spite of what Ezra claims, he does have empathy for Tseebo.  This bit recalls Ezra in the pilot, vehemently denying that he cares about anyone but himself while the selfless heartbeat of the Light still quietly pulses through him.

Ezra points out the reasons he shouldn’t care about Tseebo and that’s when Sabine stands up with her theory that Tseebo volunteered for the implant specifically to make up for all that, and set things right.

That conversation is interrupted--yet again, it’s a running trend with them--by Tseebo announcing that they’re being tracked through hyperspace.

The crew confirm this in the next scene and lore appreciation moment, remembering that forcible ejection from hyperspace is violent and dangerous and could very well destroy your ship.

And also CONTINUITY APPRECIATION, we’re gonna drop by the fyrnocks again! :D

And hinting at the idea that some of the Inquisitors (Grand at least) can track Jedi across distance.  (One wonders if this was how Fifth and Seventh kept finding them.)

Ezra decides to go sulk in the kitchen and Sabine seeks him out.

God I love this scene.

Sabine asks him if he really thinks his parents are dead, Ezra confesses he doesn’t know (more honest already!) but acts like it doesn’t matter and Sabine gets unusually agitated, pushing for Ezra to talk to Tseebo before he goes.

She’s almost personally offended by Ezra’s seeming lack of desire for closure.

(It’s because she understands how much it hurts.)

Don’t mind me I’m just looking at their pretty faces.

Hngl, this is such a wonderful moment of Ezra being guarded and yet vulnerable.  He couldn’t let himself believe his parents would come save him, or he wouldn’t have been strong enough to survive, and this is the part I think Sabine relates to.  She probably had to do something similar after her own family cut her loose.

She still doesn’t want him to leave things unresolved, though, urges him silently with her eyes right here.

HELLO SAD FINALE THEMATIC PARALLEL FEELS HOW YA DOIN’?

Kanan has to stop Sabine from arguing further with small subtle hand gesture, and it’s only then that she backs down.

It’s been pretty quiet in the score up until this scene, but this cue is interesting.  It sounds like a disjointed, fragmented variation on Ezra’s theme, soured, quiet, and hesitant, the melody barely breaking over the background strings.

“Strap in.” To what, Kanan?  These seats don’t have restraints.

Subtle animation appreciation moment: The way Ezra puts a hand over his face apprehensively in the background while Kanan’s talking.

Love how Rebels depicts forcible ejection from hyperspace.

Yeah some of the skimped budget from last episode definitely went into this sequence. XD

The music track we heard associated with the fyrnocks back in “Out of Darkness” creeps back in, returning us mentally right back there.

And Kanan tells Ezra he’s basically throwing him in the deep end, revisiting the lesson he was trying to teach last episode, only in a more mortal peril context.  Fly or Die, as the trope goes.

A bit of undue pressure on Ezra?  Maybe.  But also, Kanan was not going to let anything bad happen to Ezra.  But he has to put Ezra in a situation where there’s the appearance of no other option, to blunt force his way into a breakthrough.  It the same thing he would do down the line with Sabine, to help her work through the mental block that was preventing her from committing to the darksaber.

Ezra timidly confesses that he’s afraid and Kanan praises him for admitting it, HNGL THEY’RE BOTH ALREADY SUCH GOOD JEDI AND THEY DON’T KNOW IT.

I love this scene I love this scene I love this scene SO MUCH.

First off!  The animation is really pretty in an understated way, not so much about the colors or light/dark balance (though the eerie glowing effect of the fyrnock eyes in the darkness is great) but again, the character animation and how much emotion and story it tells.

Ezra nervously peeking as he tries to connect, the panic that hits his eyes as his head whips around, realizing they’re surrounded.

Second!  This scene is so cathartic.

Kanan is already right there, ready to step in and take over.

Pushing at Ezra to mentally work through why he’s afraid, what he’s afraid of.  To let go.

Let go of the fear, the anger, the hurt, let go of all the barriers preventing you from reaching out.

And Ezra realizes he’s not afraid of the creatures, he’s afraid of the truth, afraid to face that potential loss all over again.  The Force ring sound effect chimes out, across the galaxy Tseebo’s mind suddenly clears and...

Ezra’s unique ability to connect, blocked by fear and unlocked through forgiveness.

Kanan looks so proud asgaksjh.

(A little bit astonished it worked so well too.  Lol.)

Back with Hera, dropping Tseebo off with the Rebellion, and a nice little bit of a follow-through with Sabine asking snarkily if they can meet Fulcrum now and being quietly disappointed but accepting when Hera says no.

It’s really sweet how Tseebo wasn’t even trying to access Imperial secrets, he just wanted to find his friends. <333

Hera hears what Tseebo knows but because of the semi-episodic nature of this show (and certain plot developments later in the episode), the answers to that mystery are tabled until Season Two, when it’s revealed that Kanan and Hera have been looking for the Bridgers the whole time.

Oh but because they didn’t tell Ezra they were looking that means they were keeping secrets and that makes them horrible peop--*shot*

And now it’s time for my other other favorite scene of this episode. :)

The rhythmic percussion of an Imperial leitmotif accompanies Grand’s arrival at Fort Anaxes, flaring into the chorals of the Inquisitor’s theme.  Grand looks suitably intimidating.

Between episodes he’s apparently received instructions to take them in alive, as opposed to “Rise of the Old Masters” when he was happily ready to just kill them.

‘Course personally I think whether or not an Inquisitor kills you right away versus captures you for Mustafar depends largely on their mood in the moment.

Surprise!

Once again, connected through the Force, Kanan and Ezra move perfectly in sync, mirror-matching each other’s pose, expressions, and movement.

The soundtrack flares with a new melody here, overlayed over the chorals of Grand’s intimidating leitmotif.  Kanan fares a LOT better this round, lighter on his feet, deflecting, redirecting the Inquisitor’s force and momentum, more confident in his Soresu.

Please appreciate how serene Ezra looks here with me.

The Grand Inquisitor still quickly overpowers Kanan, temporarily knocking him out of the fight.

Ezra’s eyes snap open and he rushes over, effortlessly Force Pull-ing Kanan’s saber to him (he’s already come so far from when he started!) and steps in front of the Inquisitor bravely.

*YOINK*

hetried.jpeg

Frick this is such a good shot.

Also not to run off into the weeds here but... given what happens moments later I kind of think this red-blue contrast is deliberate color symbolism.

They put Ezra on the literal ledge of a cliff for his big Dark Side moment after all.

Ungh this moment has such GOOD ANIMATION I can’t do it justice with the screencaps at all.

Just how the Force ring sound effect kind of goes off tune and all the tiny little rocks and pebbles start floating up and absolute icy fury in Ezra’s eyes, the feral way his mouth and shoulders curl, how tightly he clenches his teeth and fists, the way the great big mama fyrnock rises up from behind him...

Kanan’s soft horror. :(

Ezra’s movements almost mirror the fyrnocks, his eyes flare when it roars, he practically vibrates with rage beside it.

Even the Inquisitor is like, “Huh.  Okay.  Ooops.”

Ezra sics the mama on Grand, struggles to hold onto the overwhelming rush of Dark Side energy flowing through him for a moment, and then he loses his grip on it, eyes rolling up and falling over, senseless.  And the loose pebbles drop just as lifelessly to the ground.

Something to point out, Ezra tapping into the Dark Side here was dangerous primarily because his body literally physically could not handle it.

Like, even leaving aside all the other hazards of tapping into the Dark Side, that’s horrifying.

Ezra, wide open to the Force, couldn’t control his fear and anger and lashed out, left himself vulnerable.  The Dark Side rushed in and dumped a lot of raw power through him when he wasn’t ready for it (because it’s fast easy access to a lot of power very quickly, at the cost of yourself), and his body gave out and rejected it.

The junior novelization of this episode confirms that for a moment or two after this, when Kanan goes to check on him, Ezra wasn’t breathing.

No wonder the poor man looks so worried and frightened.

Can’t emphasize this enough, Ezra almost died.  The Dark Side almost killed him the first time he touched it.

Aaaaand that is why the Jedi teach mindfulness and emotional control. XD  If you aren’t in control of your emotions when you tap into the Force, your emotions will control and then consume you.

Subtle animation appreciation moment: Kanan holding his side from where the Inquisitor kicked him as he runs up to Ezra.

Kanan books it for the Phantom with his fortunately-still-breathing padawan as the soundtrack tolls with pounding bass notes of doom, leaving the Inquisitor pissed and foreshadowing the reason why he later drops himself into a ship reactor.

Cue this heartwarming conversation between our boys, in which Kanan once again feel waaaay out of his depth, scrambling just to keep ahead of Ezra as his abilities grow by leaps and bounds, and realizing just how unprepared they both are for this.

Kanan doesn’t even judge Ezra for tapping into the Dark Side or yell at him or scold him or anything, speaking gently and taking the blame on himself instead for not warning Ezra properly.

Ezra’s Troubled Fetal Position this whole conversation hurts.  He looks so small. T_T

Hera sounds really relieved that they’re all right.

And Sabine’s brows noticeably pinch with worry when she spots Ezra.  The smile falls right off her face.

:(

Ezra goes to be alone in the nose gun and Sabine approaches him, commiserating about how it’s been “a rough couple of days” before gifting him with something:

The disc that Ezra dismissed, that she picked up anyway and took a look at, and then painstakingly cleaned up simply because Ezra was having a really bad birthday and she wanted to make it a little better.

The warm lighting is really pretty in this scene.  Soft and comforting.  This moment always feels like a calming balm after the drama of the episode.

I dare any of y’all to find another moment when Sabine’s smile is this tender and sweet.

Her prettiest smiles always seem reserved for him.

And it’s just what he needs to cheer up and feel better, look at him he’s practically glowing.

Ezra’s theme, mellow and warm, closes us out of course.

Gah, this two-parter is some of my favorite material of the season.  Seven episodes in (eight if you count “Spark of Rebellion” as two) and there’s already been so much character development and growth, so much backstory, so many unveiled layers and depths to this crew; they’ve been put through the wringer and come out stronger.

Some of the best animation of Season One is in the climax of “Gathering Forces”, which is a serious No Context Signature Scene candidate.  Every time I look at it there’s something new to notice.

I think this was the last episode I watched for my first initial binge and boy it was not enough to stop here.

(Fortunately the husband had waited until he could buy the whole first season on home video, no months-long hiatus involved. :) )

I dunno if I even have anything else to say, these episodes are amazing, I love them, I love how Kanan and Ezra’s relationship grows, I love the Sabezra moments, I love the animation and the tightly-written story, I love all of it.

It’s great.

The highlights of the season continue tomorrow!

[deadpresidents]

Exactly 100 years ago, President Warren Gamaliel Harding escaped the sweltering summer weather and increasingly dark political climate of Washington, D.C. to embark upon a lengthy cross-country trip through parts of the American West still relatively unaccustomed to frequent visits by the nation’s Chief Executive. Billed as a “Voyage of Understanding”, Harding’s trip was seen as a prelude to his potential campaign for re-election the following year, and an opportunity to put some literal and figurative distance between the President and the rumors of rampant corruption swirling around some of Harding’s friends and closest aides from Ohio, as well as several Cabinet members — rumors eventually proven to be true, resulting in indictments, convictions, prison sentences, and even suicides. As President Harding prepared for his Western tour, he could feel the heat as the scandals plaguing his Administration began to reach a boiling point. Speaking privately to the famous journalist and editor William Allen White, Harding said of the Presidency, “My God, this is a hell of a job! I have no trouble with my enemies…But my damn friends, they’re the ones that keep me walking the floor nights.”

Harding’s planned 15,000-mile Voyage of Understanding began on June 20, 1923. Traveling aboard the private Pullman railroad car Superb, the 57-year-old President left Washington, D.C. accompanied by First Lady Florence Harding, Speaker of the House of Representatives Frederick H. Gillett, new Interior Secretary Hubert Work, and a large retinue of aides, friends and their families, doctors, Secret Service agents, and members of the press. Work had become Secretary of the Interior a few months earlier when the previous Secretary, Albert B. Fall, became the “fall guy” for the Teapot Dome scandal. For his role in the scandal, Fall was later convicted of accepting bribes — the first former Cabinet member in American history to serve time in prison for crimes committed while in office. At later points along the journey, Harding’s party was also joined by Secretary of Agriculture Henry C. Wallace (father of future Vice President Henry A. Wallace) and Secretary of Commerce (and future President) Herbert Hoover.

The last week of June 1923 was spent traveling through the Mountain West — Colorado, Wyoming, Utah, Idaho, Montana, and Yellowstone National Park. The beginning of July saw the Presidential party in the Northwest and celebrating Independence Day in Portland, Oregon before boarding the USS Henderson in Tacoma, Washington on July 5, 1923 to sail to Alaska. One of the expected highlights of the Voyage of Understanding was the northernmost  leg of the trip, as Harding became the first incumbent President of the United States to visit Alaska and Canada. The Territory of Alaska had been purchased for the United States by Secretary of State William Seward in 1867 when Warren G. Harding was two years old, and at the time of Harding’s visit, Alaska was still 35 years from being admitted to the Union as the 49th state. But the President spent nearly the entire month of July traveling through the state, mixing public appearances with private recreation and sightseeing. On July 15, 1923, Harding hammered a golden spike in Nenana, Alaska to officially complete the Alaska Railroad. And ten days later, the President crossed into Canada, fishing on the Campbell River in British Columbia on July 25th and then making an official visit the following day in Vancouver, where he was greeted by one of the largest crowds of his voyage — estimated at over 40,000 people — and where he also squeezed in a round of golf at the exclusive Shaughnessy Golf Club.

The President returned to American soil on July 27th, arriving in Seattle and making several speeches in a busy six-hour period — first to Camp Fire Girls at Volunteer Park, then to nearly 30,000 Boy Scouts at Woodland Park, and finishing the day addressing over 30,000 people at what is now Husky Stadium at the University of Washington where he predicted statehood for Alaska, where he had spent most of the month. After making a brief appearance that evening at the Seattle Press Club, Harding boarded his train that night to travel to Portland, Oregon.

But something was not right. The President seemed to be exhausted, perhaps from the grueling trip through geography much wilder than Harding’s native Ohio or swampy Washington, D.C. Despite his exciting journey through Alaska and the energetic welcome provided by the Canadian people, Harding was clearly wiped out by the time he reached British Columbia. The President did head to the country club while in Vancouver, but he was so tired that after six holes of golf his foursome skipped directly to the eighteenth hole, seemingly completing the round without tipping off the press that Harding couldn’t play the entire course.

From the White House, nine days before embarking upon his Voyage of Understanding, Harding wrote a quick note to Solicitor General James M. Beck who had wished the President a safe journey on his upcoming trip. Thanking Beck, Harding wrote, “I shall try to remember not to overdo (it) in crossing the continent.” And, on June 14, 1923, six days before leaving, President Harding wrote a short letter to a young girl from Hartford, Connecticut named Vivian Little, who had recently sent the President a four-leaf clover as a good luck charm. “Thank you so much for the four-leaf clover which you were so good as to press and send to me,” the President wrote. “I hope it will bring me good luck and that it will bring you still more of the same.”

However, any luck that President Warren G. Harding still had seemed to be running out. Ill and exhausted after leaving Vancouver, Harding tried to rest aboard the USS Henderson as it sailed to Seattle in the early morning hours of July 27. At some point around 3 AM, Harding and the other passengers aboard the Henderson were jolted awake as the ship crashed into the USS Zeilin, an American destroyer accompanying the Presidential party while they traveled through the foggy Puget Sound. This was not the first mishap of the Voyage of Understanding. While traveling through Colorado early in the trip, three people from the President’s party had been killed in a car accident. And now, after a few weeks in Alaska where Harding was able to at least temporarily forget about his Administration’s many troubles, the President was not only sick and tired but two of his Navy’s ships had just smashed into each other almost as soon as he had returned to the continental United States. While the USS Zeilin was badly damaged in the collision, the USS Henderson was not and there were apparently no major injuries on either vessel. But when the President’s valet, Major Arthur Brooks, came to Harding’s stateroom aboard the Henderson to inform him that the captain was calling for all hands on deck, he found the depressed President lying on his bed with his face buried in his hands. “I hope the boat sinks,” President Harding quietly muttered.

It was just hours later that Harding made his whirlwind tour through Seattle, putting on a brave face at his public appearances, but clearly not feeling well. While he was never considered a brilliant orator like Abraham Lincoln, Benjamin Harrison, or his immediate predecessor, Woodrow Wilson, Harding was a strong speaker and excellent communicator who had a unique ability to connect with audiences, but he was obviously — and unusually — halting and confused while speaking in Seattle on July 27th. As he boarded his train at Seattle’s King Street Station that night, Harding was examined by his doctor and by Interior Secretary Hubert Work, who had once been a physician, and they decided to cancel the next several days of planned activities. Instead of stopping in Portland and then visiting Yosemite National Park, the Presidential party was ordered to proceed directly to San Francisco where Harding could rest before giving a speech on the radio planned for July 31st which was expected to be heard by over 5 million people.

Despite the four-leaf clover that had been sent to him by Vivian Little before his Voyage of Understanding, Warren Gamaliel Harding’s luck seemed to be running out. And, as his train sped through Oregon en route to San Francisco’s Palace Hotel on July 28, 1923, President Harding was also running out of time.