#they never really explained *how* the empire got such advanced technology or where

[eorzeashan]

..... what if jadus is made out of the same plant-thing the Dominators are

[bedlamsbard]

Part 13 of the other side AU concept!  I am going to eventually pull these apart into parts one (Devil’s in the Details) and two (Carry the Fire) and do edits/rewrites to the extent they meet my standards for going up on AO3 as chaptered, titled fics, but I don’t currently have the mental and emotional energy for that.  (Have you...met January 2021?)  In the meantime here are my in-progress playlists, if there’s interest: Devil’s in the Details and Carry the Fire.

About 5.8K below the break.

*

Zeb got up to keep watch, since he had the best ears of the group; Kanan took his place on the tree root and Ezra leaned back to keep his head tipped against Kanan’s knee, barely able to comprehend that single point of connection.  Kanan’s presence radiated through the Force with startling solidity, as if after years of shadows someone had suddenly turned on a light in a dark room. Ezra had to fight back his urge to roll around in that strength like an overjoyed Loth-cat in a patch of sunlight.

“I don’t know exactly what happened when the Chimaera went down,” he said eventually.  He hesitated, not wanting to get into the fact that at the time he had still been locked in his cell.  He didn’t think he could get away without telling them that at all, but he didn’t want to lead off with it if he could help it.  “I wasn’t up in the bridge – Thrawn and Pellaeon didn’t really want me near anything important.  What I heard later was that the Vong tricked the Scylla and the Charybdis – they’re the only other ships left in the Seventh – into leaving the Chimaera, and once the cruisers were out of reach they hit the Chimaera with everything they had. Their ships aren’t like ours,” he added slowly. “They’re living things, for one – I have no idea how that works.  They’re not shielded, but they’ve got some kind of – of miniature black holes that move around on their ships, swallowing up most shots before they can get through at all.  Dovin basals, that’s what they call them.  TIE pilots don’t know how to deal with them – ship gunners either, for that matter.  I don’t know how they work; the Chimaera’s scientists were trying to figure it out.”

He glanced over at Sabine in time to see her eyebrows snap together, obviously trying to work it out for herself without even having seen one.  She still had the piece of broken beskar in her hand, like she couldn’t comprehend what had happened to it.

“The Chimaera had already taken a lot of damage by the time the Vong started boarding,” Ezra went on slowly.  “Zafira – that’s the death trooper captain – let me out around then, but I was never on the bridge or anything.  I guess Thrawn had the idea that the Vong ships might not be able to survive in atmosphere since they’re alive and they live in space, so he started bringing the Chimaera down into the planet’s atmosphere.”

Sabine whistled softly. “Did it work?”

Ezra shrugged. “You saw the Chimaera.”  He was quiet for a moment, remembering the desperate battle in the narrow corridors of the star destroyers – lights flickering as power was cut off, then restored, emergency notifications about hull breaches still blaring out absurdly over the sound of blasterfire and Vong war cries.  He would have given his right hand for his lightsaber.

He swallowed past the lump in his throat and went on, “Thrawn sent Pellaeon and some of the other bridge crew to the auxiliary bridge so that they weren’t in the same place. I know they were arguing about it – I think Pellaeon wanted to evacuate and Thrawn still thought he could win.”

“Zeb and Chop and I searched the bridge,” Sabine said.  “There wasn’t much of it left.  We had to get into the communications room computers.”

Ezra nodded. “Yeah.  I was with the death troopers – we ran into Pellaeon on his way down to the auxiliary bridge and stayed with him. The Vong took Thrawn, the rest of the bridge crew, others – there’s no accurate count on how many died and how many the Vong took captive.”  He resisted the urge to say that as far as he was concerned, the Vong were welcome to keep Thrawn; with his luck they’d team up and that was the last thing he wanted or needed.  “No one was in the auxiliary bridge when the bridge went; by the time we got there it was too late to pull the Chimaera up.  Pellaeon ordered the evacuation then; the Vong were already pulling out.  I guess they got what they wanted.  By then the Scylla had come back; Charybdis was still trading punches with the Vong out in space.”

He pulled his legs up and rested his chin on his knees.  He didn’t think he would ever forget the sight of the Chimaera crashing, which he had seen from one of the evacuating gunships.  The shock wave when the star destroyer had struck the ground had tossed the gunships around with toys; two of them had crashed into each other and exploded. Even the Scylla, making a reckless atmospheric approach in an attempt to save as many of the Chimaera’s crewmembers as it could, had been thrown aside.  Ezra never wanted to give Imperial any more credit than necessary, but the fact that Commander Kisujo had kept the Scylla from crashing was probably a minor miracle, especially given how much damage the cruiser had already sustained.

“Pellaeon went back afterwards to look for survivors,” Ezra said eventually. “There weren’t any. There were Vong hunting parties all over the place, though, seeding their blasted worldshaping plants.”

Hera stirred. “Those are the plants all over the Chimaera?  We thought the ship must have been there for years until we got into the computers.”

Ezra nodded. “This planet is already pretty close to what they like in a world –”  He gestured at the jungle that sat heavy and waiting all around them, “– but I guess they do it as a matter of course whenever they’re grounded for a while.  Change the chemical composition of the atmosphere, the groundwater, destroy anything that looks like technology, enslave the natives – I don’t think this place has any, though.”

“So what are you doing out here?” Zeb asked over his shoulder.

“Looking for the Vong,” Ezra said.  He rubbed his aching shoulder, where a Vong warrior had slammed him into a bulkhead on the Chimaera, and which had gotten further banged up when the shock wave from the Chimaera’s crash had tossed them his gunship around like confetti. Getting thrown into that tree hadn’t helped it either, nor did it help that it was the same shoulder he had been shot in six years ago.  “Pellaeon thought he’d send someone who actually had a chance at making it back. And who he didn’t mind losing,” he added sourly. “TIE patrols spotted the Vong camp out this way – or the one who made it back said so, anyway.  Pellaeon wants Thrawn back for some reason.  And the rest of the crew, I guess.  Even if they’re Imps they don’t deserve what the Vong will do to them.”

He fell silent, thinking about some of the holos he had seen of Vong-controlled planets the Chimaera had found.  He had only been allowed groundside on one of those occasions, when Thrawn had decided he wanted to see what a Force-user would make of it, and he’d wanted to claw his own skin off within minutes of touching down.

“This isn’t the invasion fleet,” he said eventually. “I don’t know where they are.  Thrawn thought it was some kind of advance scout fleet to figure out how hard the Vong would have to hit the Empire.”

Hera exchanged a look with Kanan over Ezra’s head.  Sabine and Zeb both swore, Sabine in Mando’a, Zeb in Lasat.

“What?” Ezra said. “What did I miss?  Uh, besides everything that happened in the last six years.  You can just give me the highlights.”

Sabine rested the piece of beskar on her knee and ticked them off on her fingers. “Tarkin’s dead, Vader’s dead, the Emperor’s dead, Alderaan got blown up, the Empire’s in pieces but Palpatine still tried to destroy it from beyond the grave, the New Republic’s being run by idiots.  Did I forget anything?  Oh, the Jedi are back but all they do is argue about doctrine.”

Kanan sighed. “That’s an oversimplification.”

“Wait – what?” Ezra said.

“Not everyone on the Provisional Council is an idiot,” Hera said.

“Wait, what?”  Ezra felt like he had just been hit with a very large brick. “Palpatine’s dead?” he said, focusing on that.

“Probably,” Zeb said. “Skywalker’s the only one who saw it happen.”

“Who’s – wait, like Anakin Skywalker?  But he’s –” He stopped abruptly, remembering what had happened on Malachor.

There was an awkward silence shared between Kanan and Hera; Zeb and Sabine just looked at each other and shrugged.  Sabine said, “If Palpatine was still around there wouldn’t be a dozen warlords – mostly former Imperials – running around trying to carve up the Empire between them.”

“Yeah, and maybe the Provisional Council would stop arguing with each other,” Zeb grumbled.

“The Jedi?” Ezra said a little wildly.

“Yeah, all three of them,” Zeb said.

“I’ll explain later,” Kanan said quickly. “It’s not quite as dramatic as it sounds.”

“Oh, I forgot to tell you about the Death Star,” Sabine said. “Mark one and mark two.”

“The what?”

“Let’s focus on our current situation, shall we?” Hera said quickly.

“Don’t even get me started on Mandalore.”

“I’ve always tried not to!”

“Hera went to another universe.”  Sabine considered. “And she has a baby.”

“What?”  Ezra almost fell off the tree root twisting around to look at Kanan and Hera.

Hera bit her lip. “Jacen’s not a baby, he’s six,” she said.  She looked at Kanan and smiled, soft and fond.  “He’s back on Ryloth with my father.”

“I need a drink,” Ezra muttered, then, louder, “Congratulations.  Wait, you, went to another universe?”

“Kanan too,” Sabine said. “Oh, Ahsoka’s back too, but that was a while ago.”

Ezra rubbed at his forehead. “Okay, can we catch me up later?”

“The relevant part is that neither the Imperial Remnant nor the New Republic is in any position to repel a full-scale invasion,” Hera said.  She sighed.  “The only reason the New Republic let us come out here – officially, I should say – is because there have been rumors about Thrawn for years.  If he’s in contact with anyone in the Remnant –”

Ezra shrugged. “Believe me when I say that I’m the last person Thrawn ever talked to.  About anything.”

“How much of the Seventh is left?” Kanan asked.

“The Scylla and the Charybdis are the only ships left, and they both got pretty beat up in that last fight with the Vong,” Ezra said, thinking back.  Pellaeon didn’t tell him much more than Thrawn did, but he had seen the makeshift command post in the Scylla before he’d left.   “Everyone’s taken pretty heavy losses since Lothal –”  He looked up suddenly, his heart in his throat. “Lothal –”

“Fine,” Sabine reassured him quickly. “Ryder’s governor again, everyone’s fine, Loth-cats as far as the eye can see.”

Ezra’s shoulders slumped in relief.  Eventually, he said, “At least ten thousand back at Chimaera Camp and on Scylla and Charybdis, but I don’t think they’ve got more than fifteen thousand left altogether.  I guess it depends how many the Vong took off the Chimaera.”

Kanan drew in his breath sharply.  Ezra couldn’t blame him; the Chimaera’s full muster was for forty thousand, but it hadn’t held that many people since well before the purrgil had reduced it substantially.  Most star destroyers, Pellaeon had remarked once, seldom held a full muster unless they were expecting to go into battle; in the normal course of things a star destroyer simply didn’t actually need nearly ten thousand stormtroopers who would do nothing but take up resources and start fights.

“That many troops plus the cruisers is enough to give any of the warlords a leg up on the others,” Sabine said practically. “Even without a star destroyer – or Thrawn, for that matter, I can’t see him letting Isard or Zsinj hold his leash.”  When Ezra frowned at her, she clarified, “Those are two of the warlords running around making trouble.  Isard used to run the ISB, Zsinj is just annoying.”

“He’s gotten a lot of people killed,” Zeb said harshly. “That’s more than ‘just annoying.’”

Sabine made a gesture of apology.  When Ezra looked uncertainly between them, Zeb explained, “Before I volunteered for this, I was with New Republic Special Forces – the Pathfinders, not the droppers. The droppers are all crazy.”

Ezra filed that away to ask about later.

Kanan and Hera shared one of those silent moments of communication that Ezra had been so familiar with half a decade earlier, then Hera said, “We’ve stayed here too long already. Ezra, were you on your way to or back from the Yuuzhan Vong encampment?”

“To.  I know about where it is.  And I can’t sense the Vong –”  He glanced at Kanan and saw the older man’s nod, acknowledging that it wasn’t any fault in Ezra’s command of the Force, “– but I can sense the captives they’ve got.  And what they’re doing to this planet.”

Kanan nodded again, his expression grim.

“Will you take us there?” Hera asked. “We’d better see this, and then we can decide what we’re going to do. Regardless, the New Republic has to know.”

Ezra nodded, a little puzzled at the odd tone in her voice, then realized abruptly what might be going through her head right now.  “I’m not one of them,” he said. “I didn’t switch sides.  It wasn’t all awful, but I spent most of the past six years in a cell except when Thrawn decided to haul me out in case having a Force-user around helped.  No one on the Chimaera ever forgot whose fault it was they were out there,” he added, gritting his teeth against the sudden quaver in his voice.  He touched a finger to the white streak in his hair; it was probably invisible in this poor light, but it was part of the reason he kept most of his hair cropped short these days.  “I got this the last time some of them decided I should pay for that and shot me in the head.  That was the fourth time someone tried.  Thrawn executed a hundred and thirty-seven people for it, including all the death trooper officers.”

He heard Zeb’s growl, low and furious, and the leather of Sabine’s gloves creak as she closed a fist.

“I’m not an Imperial,” Ezra said, fisting his own hands against his knees.  He had nightmares about that day sometimes, about getting dragged out of his cell and down to the starboard hangar bay; the death trooper commander, who had been in charge of the attempted lynching, had wanted as many crewmen as possible to see it.  Ezra had heard later that there had been a significant number of the conspirators who had wanted to execute Thrawn as well, blaming him for bringing Ezra onboard, getting them lost in the Unknown Regions, and attracting the attention of the Yuuzhan Vong.  As it was, Thrawn, Pellaeon, and most of the other senior officers who weren’t also in on the conspiracy had been locked in one of the conference rooms before they had managed to get out.  He had found out later that Thrawn had actually wanted to execute more of the conspirators, but had decided not to under the circumstances.  As a result Ezra had spent most of his time in the medbay worried that one of those who had escaped the executions would come after him to finish the job.

He looked at Kanan, knowing that he would be able to sense it even if he couldn’t see it, and added, “I’m still a Jedi.”

“I know,” Kanan said, reaching down to squeeze Ezra’s shoulder.

Ezra felt something tight inside him unknot.  He reached up to grasp Kanan’s fingers, feeling sick with relief.

“I believe you,” Hera said. She looked over his head to Kanan, who nodded in response. “I believe you,” she repeated.  “We’ll have a job of it convincing New Republic Intelligence, but let’s not borrow trouble before we have to.”

*

Before they left, Ezra found his sniper rifle and the sheared-off barrel.  He handed the barrel to Sabine so that she could inspect the severed edge, comparing it to the dead amphistaff, and broke down the rifle until it was in its heavy blaster pistol configuration.  He packed the rifle components away rather than leave them there; the machinists back at Chimaera Camp would either be able to repair them or use them for another purpose.  The pistol went on his belt in the holster he had brought in case he needed to use it in that configuration.

Sabine returned the barrel to him and regarded the amphistaff’s corpse thoughtfully.  Ezra had already tried and failed to get his vibroknife out of its neck, to his disgust.

“Can I take this with us or can they track it?”

“No idea,” Ezra said. “It’s never come up before.”

“Don’t take the risk,” Hera said.

Sabine sighed regretfully but admitted, “I’m guessing this isn’t the last time we’re going to run into these things.”

“The Vong are worse than grass ticks,” Ezra said, looking around until he found where he had dropped his night vision goggles.  When Zeb reached for them, Ezra shook his head and explained about the amphistaff poison, which had already eaten through the lenses and left a brown patch on the ground where the goggles had lain.  Ezra wouldn’t touch them again; he had seen too many people die from a drop of it on bare skin.  It ate through stormtrooper armor only a little more slowly than it did cloth.  At least five people from the Chimaera had had limbs amputated where they must have touched somewhere it had been, even if the venom itself was no longer visible.

“I’m really starting to dislike these things,” Zeb growled.

“You haven’t seen anything yet,” Ezra said.  He looked around until he saw the thud bug that the Vong warrior had thrown at him early in the fight, and found it lodged into the thick bark of one of the nearby trees, which must have prevented it from returning to the warrior the way most thud bugs did.  The fact that it hadn’t taken a chunk out of the tree impressed him, since he had seen them rip holes in durasteel plating a few times.  That must have been very hard wood.

He pointed the thud bug out to Zeb and Sabine; Kanan and Hera were talking quietly to each other a little ways away.  “We’ve been calling them thud bugs – they’re some kind of beetle; they can change their gravity somehow to hit incredibly hard.  The Vong throw them – razor bugs too.  That name’s probably self-explanatory.”

Sabine fingered a scratch on what remained of her armor.  She looked oddly unbalanced without the missing portion of her breast plate, which she had stowed in one of her hip-pouches. “Ran into a couple of those. Lightsaber goes through them,” she noted, glancing at Kanan.

“Does it go through the armor?” Ezra asked curiously, hoping the answer was yes.  He would feel better to know that something did.

She and Zeb both shook their heads. “Kanan’s real good at finding soft and tender places, though.”

Kanan turned his head at the sound of his name.  Ezra felt the flicker of his attention at the edge of his mind; he hadn’t been listening in on their conversation.  He was exquisitely aware of Kanan’s presence now that he knew the other man was there; if he had been paying more attention he might have realized when the Ghost arrived in-system.  As it was, he had had his mind focused on the area immediately around him, trying to make certain that the animals and plants of the planet would tell him the Yuuzhan Vong crept up on him.  He hadn’t flung his mind wide into the Force.  No one on the Chimaera was Force-sensitive; the Empire screened even the weakest Force-sensitives out of the service.

He might have been more concerned about the way his awareness of Kanan’s presence was blotting out his awareness of the rest of the Force, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Kanan was here.  All he wanted to do was creep over to Kanan’s side and bask in the sheer strength of his presence in the Force, like a Loth-cat in a patch of sunlight.

They left soon afterwards. Ezra took the lead with Zeb, wishing for the night vision goggles but knowing he didn’t need them.  Even before Malachor he had trained blindfolded with Kanan – which he still remembered vigorously protesting at the time – and afterwards he had worked twice as hard at it, even though he had never told Kanan as much.  He didn’t need his eyes when he had the Force, and with all his attention on the Force, the planet itself would tell him if the Vong were approaching, let alone Zeb’s sensitive ears and nose.  Zeb had confided to Ezra that this planet reminded him of Lasan before its fall – Lira San, he had said, was nice enough, but somewhere between too similar and not similar enough to be comfortable for long.  If Lira San was anything like, Ezra didn’t want to visit; he had already had enough of jungle planets and this was the only one he had been to.

He pushed his awareness of Kanan’s nearness to the back of his mind with a force of effort.  Six months ago he had woken up from a sound sleep, shocked and shaking and knowing that some essential truth of the universe had just changed.  Since it had happened he had touched that knowledge a hundred times a day, trying to work it out without having any way to do so.  He had spent long hours in meditation, reaching out into the Force and falling just short every time.  He had thought he might go mad with frustration.  Thrawn, who never missed anything, had certainly noticed, even if Ezra had refused to say what had caused his sudden discontent.  If Ezra had thought that there was any way he could get back to known space on his own, he might have made a break for it.  He had considered it – Thrawn had certainly made the point enough that as a Force-user Ezra should have been able to – but by the time he had nerved himself up for it the Vong had begun hunting them in deadly earnest.

Being back here with them felt odd.

Ezra had certainly dreamed about it enough times, and if he hadn’t been so aware of his bad shoulder he might have thought that he was back on the Chimaera, sound asleep.  He knew it was a danger, too; that his awareness of them ran the risk of distracting him at a crucial moment.  As much as he pushed his knowledge of their presence away, trying to keep his mind only on the simple facts rather than the emotions involved, he knew he was putting them all at risk.  He had to trust that between the five of them, they would be able to tell if Vong warriors searching for their missing patrol approached.

It took the better part of three hours before they reached the edge of the jungle.  Halfway through, Ezra and Kanan both sensed the passage of another Vong patrol – sensed the wildlife and plant life reacting to it, rather – but the warriors were far away and showed no sign of approaching them. Dawn was filtering through the forest canopy in a gray-green haze as they ghosted up to the edge of the tree line. Like the path Ezra had taken earlier, the jungle ended barely a meter short of the cliff-face, forming a kind of bowl around the valley below.  Ezra eased forward on his belly, pulling the riflescope out of his pack.  He could sense the passage of another Vong patrol on the rim of the cliff, but it wasn’t near enough to be concerned with unless they were here for a while.  He didn’t intend to stick around longer than he could help it.

The valley below boasted a kidney-shaped lake with large patches of some kind of plant life growing on the surface – Ezra reached out curiously with his mind and winced when he realized that they were Vong rather than native.  The jungle around it had been cut back to make space for what he thought were either structures or grounded ships, all of them looking out of place here – not quite the right color or texture, with shapes that were subtly off enough to make him wince.  He counted several dozen that looked like enormously oversized snail shells, a kind of orange-y green with a faint oily sheen to them. Something else, as large as a cruiser, he thought might be a grounded ship; its material was something like coral, or at least that was what it looked like through his riflescope.

Figures moved through the structures and ships – a few he recognized as Vong warriors, each of them unique in their vonduun crab armor; others were Vong from the different castes. He could sense humans down there, the prisoners taken off the Chimaera, but couldn’t spot them.

Sabine and Hera eased up on either side of him, Hera with a pair of macrobinoculars and Sabine with her rangefinder lowered.  Ezra didn’t have to turn his head to know that Zeb and Kanan were hanging back, keeping watch against a Vong patrol.

Keeping his voice barely more than a whisper, Ezra pointed out the grounded cruiser-analogue, then the coralskipper starfighters that passed by overhead before landing alongside the starship.  He hadn’t seen them in person before, just in holograms.

“Fast?” Hera asked him very quietly.

“About the same as a TIE, I think,” he murmured back. “They’ve got dovin basals – miniature black holes – like the cruisers, too, so it doesn’t really matter.”

“Hmm.”

He had to grin at the hint of considering challenge in that syllable.  If anyone could not only outfly a coralskipper solo but also shoot it down – the TIEs and handful of remaining TIE Defenders had to go after them in swarms – then it was Hera.

After a brief moment of hesitation, Ezra reached out with the Force, sorting through the thousands of human minds as he searched for the alien one.  He couldn’t sense the Vong and their living tools at all.

“Thrawn’s there,” he said after a moment, not bothering to conceal his disappointment the way he had done when Pellaeon had asked him to find out if the grand admiral was still alive. He was pretty sure Pellaeon had been able to tell his feelings anyway, but it was the principle of the thing; Pellaeon was fully capable of having him shot as more trouble than he was worth.

Sabine snorted softly. “Might have saved us some trouble if he was dead,” she grumbled.

“Tell me about it,” Ezra muttered back.  He peered through the riflescope again, letting the Force direct him.  The shell-structures seemed to be where the prisoners were being kept, Thrawn among them.  He couldn’t tell exactly which one Thrawn was in, but he supposed that when the Imperials went after him they would probably want to break all their missing troops out as well, since it would be about as much trouble.  Unless Pellaeon tried to make him do it on his own, of course, Ezra thought, and started to grimace at the thought before he realized abruptly that that was no longer an option Pellaeon had.

He was reaching back reflexively for Kanan before he even realized he was doing so, his mind brushing against Kanan’s in the Force for a brief instant of reassurance.  He felt Kanan’s response as if his master had gripped him briefly on the shoulder, calm and collected, though he knew Kanan hadn’t moved from his sentry position.  Ezra turned his face down, his eyes burning with unshed tears.

Sabine elbowed him gently. “Hey,” she whispered. “It’s all right.  We’ve got you.”

Six years ago Ezra might have said something like you took your time about it, but he just nodded.  If they could have come sooner they would have, and if they had come sooner, then Kanan – Kanan might not be back.  Six years in the Unknown Regions with Thrawn and his merry band of sociopaths was a sacrifice he was happy to make for Kanan’s return.

They watched the Vong camp for another two hours, watching the mist burn off the lake as the sun rose. Some of the lower caste Vong went into the shell-structures, probably to feed the Imperial prisoners; none of the Imperials came out.  Ezra did a rapid estimate with the Force and came up with somewhere between three and four thousand prisoners, which he supposed would make Pellaeon happy; the worst case scenario had been that all the crewmembers unaccounted for from the Chimaera were dead.  Hera didn’t look thrilled when he conveyed this information to her.

“Well, we’re not putting them all on the Ghost, that’s for sure,” Zeb grumbled; he was close enough to overhear.

All Hera said was, “I suppose we’ll have to talk to Captain Pellaeon.”

Not long after this exchange, Kanan said softly, “There’s a patrol about two klicks west of us.  We’d better clear off, if you’ve got all you need.”

“Not all we need, but all we’re going to get, I think,” Hera murmured.  The three of them retreated from the cliff face into the cover of the jungle.

Ezra got to his feet, wincing at muscles that had gone sore after two hours lying on the ground. Kanan was still sitting cross-legged on the forest floor, facing away from them with his eyes closed and his expression calm.  Ezra was barely aware of stepping towards him until he found himself reaching down to touch Kanan’s shoulder, wanting to reassure himself of Kanan’s presence. Kanan turned his face up towards him, opening his eyes, and smiled.  Ezra drew his hand back, embarrassed, then grabbed Kanan’s forearm to help pull him to his feet, the hard edges on Kanan’s bracer digging into his fingers.

Despite their precarious position, Ezra still rather wanted to drape himself on Kanan’s neck and weep.

Hera came up behind him and put a hand briefly on his shoulder. “Let’s get out of here before Chopper decides to take the Ghost and come find us,” she said.

Ezra nodded, then nearly had a heart attack as Zeb ghosted out of the jungle to join them; his purple fur and green bodysuit and armor blended in perfectly with the foliage.  If this was true of all the Lasat Ezra was definitely never going to Lira San.

They left silently, moving through the undergrowth with surprising delicacy for the size of their group.  Ezra, reaching out with the Force, found the passage of the same Vong patrol that Kanan had sensed.  If the disappearance of the patrol they had killed had been noted, it wasn’t evident from the way the Vong had acted.  Ezra would have thought that they would have had better security, but apparently not. Either that, or the Force had led them to avoid it on their approach.

The sun continued to rise steadily as they made their way single-file through the jungle.  Zeb took point this time, with Sabine just behind him. While Zeb blended into the forest around them, the sunlight through the tree canopy dappled Sabine’s armor as she moved through it; Ezra couldn’t decide what colors it was and suspected he wouldn’t know for sure until they were back at the Ghost.  Kanan and Hera brought up the rear, nearly soundless though Ezra was excruciatingly aware of Kanan’s presence.

After a sleepless night and a fight with the Vong, not to mention the intense emotion of the past few hours, he was so tired that he was nearly delirious with it.  Everything had taken on a slightly bright edge; he could have fought if he had to, but he was just as glad for the moment that neither the Vong nor the native wildlife crossed paths with them.  After almost a full day out here, he was also extremely aware of the fact that he had spent most of the past six years locked in a cell, with only occasional breaks to go nearly get killed, either by the Imperials or by whoever they happened to be fighting at the moment.  He was almost tired enough that the cell was starting to sound appealing.

 The day wore on, the heat and humidity growing steadily.  Ezra kept his weary eyes on Sabine’s gaudily painted jetpack in front of him; it wasn’t the same color that it had been six years earlier – he would have been shocked if it had been – but the basic winged design was more or less the same, though he could spot differences.  He was so focused on that to stay on his feet that he didn’t realize they had reached their destination until the flicker of movement behind transparisteel caught his eye.

Ezra stiffened, his hand going to his blaster.  It took him a few moments for his gaze to focus; he was expecting nothing more than the endless expanse of forest, not the Ghost parked in a clearing just barely large enough for the ship.  He stared blankly at the ship, unable to believe that it was actually here after so many years.

Kanan closed a hand on his shoulder as the ramp unfolded.  Chopper, apparently unchanged from the last time Ezra had seen him, appeared at the top of the ramp, waving one of his manipulators and shouting in annoyance about how they had gone for hours, they could have died, how dare they leave him all alone.  He stopped midway through his tirade, apparently having spotted Ezra.

Kanan pushed Ezra forward gently.  Hera was walking past him, her own shoulders slumping with weariness; Sabine paused to turn on one foot, her gaze traveling over the clearing.  Zeb was already on his way up the ramp with a comment to Chopper.

Ezra took one step forward, then another one.  Chopper came down the ramp towards him as he reached it, chirping a cautious question.

“Yeah,” Ezra said. “Yeah, it’s me.”

He started to kneel down so that they were on the same level, then overbalanced and sat down hard instead.  Chopper rolled up to him, close enough to touch but not doing so.  Ezra reached out, hesitating for an instant before he laid his hands on Chopper’s chassis.  The metal was warm to touch, the pain smooth beneath his fingers except where it was starting to chip away.  He could feel the hum of the droid’s inner workings against his palms.

“Yeah, Chop,” he said again, and started to cry, his head bent forward against Chopper’s dome so that none of the others could see. “It’s me.  It’s me.”

[estoniacobaltpayne]

Judgement Day

Chapter 1: Devising Deceit

Summary: Desperate, a force user bargains for her freedom; if she acquires the ‘asset’ deemed top priority, she would be free from the life that has enslaved her. Years of training has prepared her, but she’s stubborn and unlucky and more often than not she’s biting off more than she can chew. Maybe pulling the long con is the only path to freedom, but if it is, there’s a Mandalorian blocking it.

Warnings: language, implications of creepy old men

Pairing: Din Djarin X Reader

Prologue: Here!

Arvala-7 was hot. Despicably so. It was as if its creation was solely intended to irritate her on her quest. She would have thought she would have been more accustomed to the heat, but even the stuffy cargo holds on the dingy and dank ships she stowed away upon weren’t as unbearable as the waves of oppressing heat radiating from the red sand.

Hell, even Jakku hadn’t been this unbearably hot.

Luckily, Darth Ragna didn’t have long to linger in her suffering for too long. An isolated base appeared before her, and along with it brought the beginning of her journey towards freedom. Taking out the guards would be quick work, especially with her abilities. Really, what could they offer themselves for protection? Blasters? A canon at most? Surely, nothing to suppress her unnatural abilities. A forgotten base such as this one would in no way be equipped with such advanced, expensive, and rare technology.

And so she began her fight. The blasters were easy to manipulate into disintegration, and their users were easy enough to mindlessly toss aside without a single touch. The first canon was just the same. The second canon was a surprise, but took just as little effort. Then the crew of the base rolled out another 3 canons simultaneously. She was falling behind in her attacks. She now played the role of the defence, and damn, was their offence growing stronger? Or was the heat of the sun really that bad? How comical. The sun bringing down someone as powerful as her.

But it wasn’t the sun. It was the syringe sticking out of her arm. Did these unintelligent life forms really just... gain the upper hand? Did they really just have the audacity to shoot her with… what was it?

What was-

The last thing she saw was the same damned red sand kicked in her face by the boots of the soldiers running towards her. She couldn’t even feel it stinging her eyes, coating her skin, dirtying her hair. And after another moment in slow motion, she lost her ability to keep her eyes open.

The last thing she registered was the sharp voice that eternally plagued her head; “you should be better than this, pathetic child.”

And then, she was nothing.

——

Rumbling.

Outside.

Outside where?

Where is inside?

Darth Ragna pushed herself off the ground. She spit out some of the red sand that still lingered in her mouth. How long had she been out? Why couldn’t she feel the force? How did those buffoons even get the upper hand?

She lifted up her arms to shake some of pesky sand that was in her hair. It was impossibly tangled in every direction, and the sweat and sand coating her head was making the itching on her scalp nearly unbearable. But something was impeding her attempt to soother herself; handcuffs. A very familiar model of handcuffs.

“If you can’t control yourself, then I get to control you. Understand, girl?”

A tall man with skin as pale as his soul and a grip to match pulls along a young girl, not even old enough to have 2 digits in her age.

“Please! I can! I can be good! I promise! I-“

He turns around and cuts her off sharply, “no! This is the last time you disobey me! If you didn’t want the cuffs, you would have contemplated your actions before you enacted them! Pray I don’t devise a worse punishment!”

A pair of handcuffs encircled her wrists. They were a clean chrome colour, that, when paired with the glowing blue technology underneath their surface, suppressed every ounce of ability to connect with the force. She was alone now.

It was the same type of handcuffs that were forced upon Ragna now.

But now, they were such a small problem compared to the IG-11 droid imposing over her body that was limp on the floor. She backed herself up the wall, trying to put as much space between herself and the killer droid as possible. After all, her powers in the force were useless, thanks to the cuffs, and she was useless against the droid.

But its focus was not on her, anyways.

Its target was stubbornly aimed on the pram to her right. She couldn’t see into it, but she new from the intel she was given back home that, if it was the asset she was sent to acquire, it was a child. The droid had its blaster aimed into its center; but it dropped to the ground with a hole in its head as suddenly and as unceremoniously as it had been brought into this world. Its effortless destruction was brought upon it before it got the chance to terminate the child.

But whatever managed to take out an IG-11 droid so very easily was more concerning to Darth Ragna; and that’s when she noticed the Mandalorian.

The visor of his silver helmet was trained upon her. The chest plates the colour of the sand beneath his feet rose and fell in gentle breaths; too gentle considering the energy he must have exerted to take out the guards outside. Speaking of which: if he could take them out, why couldn’t she? If she couldn’t out-fight a few hired guns, how the hell was she supposed to take out this beast of a Mandalorian? Even if her abilities in the force had been unsuppressed?

She thought quickly; the only way to get out of this alive was to out-wit the Mandalorian. If she was able to successfully convince him that she was sent here to care for the asset, then she might be able to gain his trust. And once she did, she would, quite literally, stab him in the back, and take the asset as her own bounty. And so, in a rushed, nearly unbelievable string of jumbled words, she put on, truly, her best act. But her rushed stammering, she could tell, did little to sway the bounty hunter. After her speech, he simply stared at her, unmoving.

Finally, after Ragna began to think that he would just end her then and there, he let out a gruff, “how do you explain the cuffs, then?”

His voice was like nothing she had ever heard; rough, raw, authentic. It stunned her into silence. It wasn’t until he let out a tensed, “well?” that she responded.

“They didn’t believe me! Even after showing them that I, too, am a wielder of the force, they still locked me up here!”

The Mandalorian was really going against his better judgement when he helped her up off the floor. But for Ragna, things were starting to go her way. She just had to sell her feigned kindness and hope that he warmed up to her quickly.

“Thank you! You have no idea how refreshing it is to have someone sane at a time like this! Imagine if those gunman had just left me here. How rude! I can’t even think of it! Truly, you live up to the reputation of your people! Now, if you would oblige me once more and take off these cuffs?”

The Mandalorian was already halfway out the door with the child, when he bluntly replied, “no.”

Well, damn.

——

And damn once more. Ragna had really expected her situation to be much easier than it was turning out to be. A caravan of Jawas had raided the Mandalorian’s ship for parts (not that there was much worth scavenging, as she bluntly said to the ship’s owner). Her new travel companion enlisted the help of a former ally to try and remedy the situation. An Ugnaut named Kuill, who mentioned in passing his indentured servitude in the Empire. Ragna stiffened. Did he… did he know of her? If he did, he didn’t seem to let on, a relief to Ragna. If she were to be found out, she would be facing instant death via Mandalorian.

Honestly, it was the damned cuffs. This whole ordeal could have been over and done with had that stubborn Mandalorian just taken those handcuffs off her. But until he did, she could do nothing to help in any way. Not when the Mandalorian went to fight the mudhorn did he take them off, and not even when he was fixing his ship. She could have helped and this all would have gone much faster, and she was sure to make that fact known to the Mandalorian in a feeble attempt to win his faith, but he did nothing but ignore her.

More importantly, she couldn’t carry out her plan to kill the Mandalorian and take the child to the Imperials herself if she was still held hostage in the force suppressing cuffs. She attempted to reach out to him; to establish a faux acquaintanceship with him in order to sway him into trusting her, but as soon as she initiated a conversation, he took the child and hid himself away in the cockpit. He locked the doors and didn’t dare retreat for the majority of the ride to Nevarro, as she believed he mentioned they were going, which was her last chance to enact any semblance of her plan. But alas, he still did not remove the force suppressing cuffs, and she was still disabled to the force. The Mandalorian’s contact, however, proved to not be useless to her and her situation. He was one of the Imperial councilmen that approved her bargain; the child’s obtainment for her freedom. The amount of time the client spent talking to the bounty hunter was excruciating, however, as soon as he left, she made herself and her bargain loud and clear to the Imperial client.

“I bargained that should the child be brought into Imperial hands, that I would be freed.”

The Imperial was a plump man with a disapproving face. He was smart, and not one to easily let go of what he felt belonged in Imperial clutches.

“And yet, you were not the one to bring in the asset, so I do believe that your contract has been voided.”

Her jaw squared. She would be damned if some bounty hunter got in the way of her freedom.

“I helped him. I led him to it. There were too many guards. Neither could have taken them alone. My contract never said I couldn’t employ the assistance of another,” Ragna was seething. All she could do was plead. There was no way she would let go of her freedom now; not when she was so close, and she wasn’t below laying herself down at the feet of this asshat to obtain what she wanted.

“And yet, you’re sitting here in the force suppressing handcuffs I know your father so dearly loves to see you in.”

A shiver ran down Ragna’s spine. But she ignored the implications. She would weasel her way out of this.

“He wanted assurance that I wouldn’t kill him and take the reward for myself. After seeing the reward was beskar, I can’t blame him. Now, I believe my obligations are fulfilled. Please remove the cuffs.”

The Imperial client regarded her for a moment. Honestly, with how much Ragna made the Empire put up with - all her fits and acts of rebellion against her training - she’d have thought they’d be glad to be rid of her. A fact she made clear to him in his glaring silence.

After a moment he acquiesced, and ordered one of the troopers to remove them.

She was free.

——

And how beautiful freedom was.

For all of about an hour.

Ragna was enjoying some street food native to Nevarro when she heard a commotion on the next street over. She shouldn’t have investigated. Really, she should have stowed away on the nearest ship and bailed, but something pulled her towards the trouble.

And she really, should have known what was the source.

There he was, that damned Mandalorian (only now in a shiny new set of armour), carrying the child to his ship. He was conversing with someone, who, Ragna didn’t know, but before she could try and decipher their conversation, her comm beeped from her satchel.

“Come in! Ragna come in!”

She really, really, shouldn’t have answered the damned call.

“Ragna! The bounty hunter I was informed you worked with in obtaining the asset just made off with it! Tore threw nearly a half dozen troopers! Apprehend he and the child immediately!”

Rage coursed through her. She was no longer an Imperial toy!

“How dare you? My contract has been fulfilled! It is no concern of mine what happens in Imperial matters now!”

A dark cackle comes through the comm. The poor quality of the speaker mixed it with static to give it a truly horrifying and maniacal texture.

“I thought you wanted freedom in order to better carry out the will of the Empire? I see now that you have betrayed me and this entire organisation. Foolish girl. Apprehend the bounty hunter and bring us the asset, or there will be not a single crevice of this galaxy that you can hide from me.”

The comm went silent. Sigh. Should she disregard her commands and hide herself away, she would never truly be free. If she brought in the bounty hunter and child, she would never have to worry about hiding from her Imperial keepers ever again. Ragna regarded her options. She had no ship, so chasing the Mandalorian around the galaxy in an attempt to kill him was off the table. She still had her original plan though. And now, as other bounty hunters swarmed him from every angle, she had the perfect opportunity to help fight them off.

Hopefully, that would be enough for the Mandalorian to seal some trust in her.

[hopeymchope]

hey, sorry to barge into your inbox despite being a total stranger (and feel free to respond to this privately if you want) but i came across some of your s/n/k critical posts and i just wanted to say i agree SO much. and i wanted to thank you for vocalizing this opinion because i know both i and some others agree with you. i've personally felt that everything after chapter 80 was a mistake (because i thought the whole serum fight over erwin vs armin was pretty fuckin stupid too) and it's kinda funny (i guess) to see the ending 100% validate my opinion completely. i can't believe every character was done this dirty for the sake of a very poorly constructed "both sides are bad" scenario that was also in VERY poor taste considering the explicit allegories to n*zi germany and a literal race war. like what's up with the jews - sorry, the "eldians" - once ruling the entire world via a bloodthirsty empire and also being inhuman creatures? gee, that sure doesn't sound like every antisemitic conspiracy theory i've ever heard. and way to rationalize oppression, too. the entire point of an oppression narrative is supposed to be "hey, the oppressor's prejudices have no rational basis and are literally mistreating this oppressed group due to their own selfishness and cruelty," not "oh btw marley's fear/hatred of eldians kinda makes sense considering eldians once enslaved the entire planet and can turn into giant man-eating monsters." is*yama SERIOUSLY should've just stuck to writing glorified vore lmao.

and while all the characters were either killed, turned into plot devices, or both, it hurts that EMA and the main protag himself suffered this treatment as well. i still think pre-timeskip eren is utterly irreconciliable with post-timeskip eren and the fact that both fans and the author himself try to make it seem like "hey he was ALWAYS a batshit crazy psychopath from the start!" is sort of pathetic to watch. like yeah, lemme just ignore the first 80 chapters of character development for this guy. or lemme pretend that the author didn't spend the significant majority of the decade making eren the most empathetic character in the entire series. or let me also pretend that eren killing those human traffickers to save a 9 year old girl from being a child sex slave is somehow evidence/foreshadowing/etc of him eventually growing up to destroy 80% of the planet. like, what? not to mention he even rebuked himself for recklessly killing those two men like that in chapter 17...so am i supposed to ignore that too?? and don't even get me started on the "eren went insane and accidentally caused his mom's death." bro. BRO. i've watched the entirety of game of thrones yet i STILL have never seen this level of "edgy plot twist for shock value with no benefit or relevance to the story whatsoever" in any media to exist.

well anyway...sorry for ranting in your inbox like this LMAO i really just wanted to tell you that i agree with your opinions about both the series ending and the series as a whole. i doubt i'll ever engage with this cursed manga ever again but at least pre-chapter 80 s/n/k will always be a thing and i can pretend they all got reincarnated into a modern AU where eren and mikasa are happily married and living with their bff armin in a nice condo or something. they alternate between visiting carla and grisha or mikasa's family on weekends. yeah that sounds pretty good. if you made it this far then kudos to you and thank you for reading lol

Thanks a ton for the kind words of commiseration. It feels like there’s a plurality of people who are unhappy, sure... but it comes off as still being a minority, and even among that minority, it seems like most people are still fine with most of the timeskip so long as they stuck the landing. But I think they were much too far off-course pretty fast after the Timeskip started to really correct it very well. It was possible, but the writing was on the wall. The intentions were already clear pretty early on after the skip. 

That said, I try to keep this Tumblr mostly positive and DR-focused, yet I still absolutely had to rant about SNK 139. The more I thought about it, the more I disliked it... and this comes from someone who was already unhappy for a while, obviously, so. Yeah. Of course I was gonna dislike it on some level, but I thought it’d at least provide closure to the Timeskip arc, even if I do think the Timeskip arc feels at odds with everything else the series was for 3/4 of its run.

And HOLY SHIT I literally forgot about the Eldians’ history of apparently being horrible, vicious rulers of a sinister empire. You know why? Because I NEVER BELIEVED IT. I was so 100% certain that it was going to be outed as bullshit propaganda from Marley that I never once thought it was plausible, so I just... pushed it out of my mind as soon as I read it. After all, all that kind of talk about the arch-conspiracy of Jews has always been total bullshit from anti-semetic monsters, so why would I put any stock in this kind of talk being applied to the Jewish race of Attack on Titan? 

But now, at the end of the story... yup, I guess he never DID go back on that! So it was fucking true?! The Jewish people in this WWII analogy were apparently an evil master race at one point?! Oh. OHHHHH. Go fuck yourself with a shovel for that one, Isayama. 

And yeah, Eren... god, what a sad story. He becomes unrecognizable as the same character thanks to the Timeskip, the new characterization is never explained or justified retroactively - it’s just opposite day now, forever - and he dies accomplishing nothing. I don’t know what to say, except I do know how much I loved that character and this series before things went south. I didn’t even mind the backstory for the Titans and the horrible story of Eldians in Marley... because it seemed so obvious that it was setting up a battle against a hateful, technologically advanced foe that was beyond the darkness of anything they’d fought before, y’know? Marley, as it was set up in the flashbacks before the Timeskip, is Nazi Germany if the Nazis had tech and scientific horrors and numbers far beyond what the Allies had. And nobody EVER feels bad for killing Nazis, so this was obviously going to be a final battle to destroy the Marleyan military, with Zeke likely to serve as a Final Boss who has totally 100% bought the propaganda and who hated everything Eren stood for. It was all RIGHT THERE. Maybe it was just too easy to tell that story, because instead, Zeke is suddenly supposed to be a gray character (very hard to accept given his backstory), and we end with the “uwu both sides were bad bc war is hell” message that is really pretty fucked up, as you already correctly pointed out.

[whispersafterdusk]

Lost in Time - ch 20

"Better have a good reason for dragging me out here, fellow."

The nights on this side of the river were unbearably hot, and the wind blew sand into every nook and cranny of person and building alike; Windsor could have sworn he learned in grade school that deserts were chilly at night but Eufala seemed to be different in that regard -- maybe it was the proximity to both the river and ocean, since the humidity alone was enough to make you want to die during the day.

That heat and humidity had already soured his mood by the time he'd returned to his motel room, and finding the little note jammed under his pillow hadn't done much to alleviate it; now here he was out in the middle of the desert, filling his boots with sweat, staring down the muscle-head that had left the note.

Franklin was an intimidating figure whose image was slightly undercut by the moonlight glistening on the healthy amount of sweat on top of his bald head; it was taking every ounce of self control Windsor had to not comment or laugh about it, or stare as a single bead finally ran down off the man's dome and traced a line to the lobe of his ear, then disappeared down his neck to soak into the collar of his shirt. ((Continued below cut))

"You're not one of them, are you?  Duvos soldier, I mean."

Windsor met the man's gaze and shook his head.  "Nope - just a humble bounty hunter and mercenary for hire.  What's it to you?"

Franklin folded his massive arms with a grunt and a nod.  "Figured as much.  Listen.  Xan's on the hook for some murders. He was given - "given" command of this last job," he repeated, flapping his fingers as he said it, "-and then, poof, dead commander.  Xan's rise through the ranks has always been on the backs of the dead -- loads of blood in his wake but never anything that tied him directly to anything, but this one they can't let slide on a maybe."

The man went silent then and Windsor could tell by the look on his face that he was expecting a reaction; he kept his expression blank and let the silence drag on until the meat head was clearly getting frustrated.  "Right.  And?"

"...and so I'm here to screw things up for him.  If he's discredited on something this important then no one is going to care if he disappears.  The higher ups are willing to sacrifice another chance at an AI just to get him gone."

Windsor rolled his eyes.  "I see where this is going and no thank you.  This is your bed - shit in it all you like but I'm not joining you."

Franklin's eyes narrowed.  "If Xan takes a fall so do you since you're a part of this damn group."

"I'm not an empire native and also don't give a flying rat's ass about the man or his politics -- if anyone wants to make a stink about it I've got the papers to prove I'm just a hired hand, and if they STILL don't like that I've got ways to get out of their hands.  If you want to convince one of the others that they need to save their backsides then by all means do so; I won't stand in your way or narc you out.  But leave me out of this."

Franklin growled.  "You saw 'em -- they aren't going to break ranks."

Windsor shrugged.  "Yeah, and?  What would've you done if they HAD?"

"Kidnapped the woman, dragged her back to Duvos - I've got my orders to screw this up but nothing says I can't benefit in the process.  So long as the job isn't done as ordered and Xan's embarrassed.  He stakes his reputation on his plans always going AS planned down to the letter, so-"

"Oh please, THAT'S your back up plan?  Original plan or not that would only make Xan look good!  You're as dumb as you look, as dumb as I suspected, and my answer is STILL 'no goddamn thank you.'  Mind your business and I'll mind mine."

The other simply narrowed his eyes and glared; Windsor gave it another few breaths then turned to leave.  He kept his ears trained for any approaching steps (as he half-expected the man to attack him with his back turned) but he made it back to the motel without issue, and after emptying the sand and sweat out of his boots he unclipped his dagger harness and rolled into bed.

Whatever trouble there was in paradise wasn't any of his concern; he'd been hired to help steal an AI and that was that.

Pity about Xan though...man really did have a reputation for getting things done.  Whatever methods he used aside Duvos would surely take a hit in the espionage and acquisitions department if they took Xan out of the chain of command.  Was rather interesting to hear that they were actually willing to do something about him...Duvos had some cutthroat politics and supposedly a lot of things were overlooked or praised as being ambitious but whoever that commander had been that he offed must have had parents REALLY far up the chain who had the pull to go after him.

At least Franklin's half-assed recruiting attempt had given him a fair head's up that once they'd paid for his services then Windsor should get the hell out of town and lay low.  Maybe he'd leave the meat head enough for a single drink as a parting gift -- assuming the man's own tactics didn't leave him dead at the end of all this.

----------------------------------------------

"It's not important right now."

Remington mentally sighed; they'd been trying to get the date of Eli's birthday out of her for five days now and she'd stubbornly insisted each time that they had more pressing matters to attend to.   And yes, while technically she was correct, he didn't see any harm in them knowing when to wish her a simple "happy birthday" with the rest of it coming later. It wasn't exactly an argument but whatever you wanted to call it was interrupted by a familiar wobble from his bad knee; he immediately froze -- an impressive feat considering he was partly bent over in a stretching pose, and by shifting his good leg he was able to avoid toppling over onto his head (this time).

Eli grabbed him by the shoulders and helped him straighten up, and when he turned around she was frowning down at his legs.  "Stubborn injury, isn't it?"

"Yeah.  Been like that for awhile now.  I've learned to live with it."

"If we just knew what was wrong I bet Stewart could fix it."

"Really?  Even without all the fancy technology?"

She nodded.  "Really.  I've been trying to get up to speed with Xu about what survived the years and what's been developed since everything fell apart. Kind of makes me wonder if we really NEEDED all that tech back then.  Made things easier but at its most basic a lot of surgeries are done in essentially the same way regardless of whether it was a man or machine holding the blade...  We had an old saying about reinventing the wheel and while innovation was always pushing for new heights there were a lot of things you could say we had down to an art and couldn't really change.  Can't remember the last time I'd read about a new medical advancement...and I was married to a researcher."

With Eli helping he lowered himself into the grass and rubbed gingerly at his knee; every couple of days, on top of any strength training they found the time for, Eli had him working with stretches and light exercises specifically meant to try and help that joint.  So far he'd not noticed any changes aside from being constantly sore but at this point he was willing to try just about anything as he didn't relish the idea of living the rest of his life with a leg that was always threatening to suddenly buckle if he moved wrong.  

"Still, a lot of things made life easier. Bare minimum," she went on, "I'd love to have at least one functional imaging machine.  See everything inside without having to open you up."

"How'd those work?"

"Couldn't begin to tell you, beyond trying to explain how X-rays, radioactive tracers, and magnetic imaging works which, aside from basic facts about them, is well out of my scope of knowledge. Now, if I had Darren, or Peter or Ashley here, any of them could talk themselves blue in the face explaining how any given medical instrument worked.  Stewart could explain it too if you're interested."

Peter and Ashley...if memory served those were two of the squad mates they had buried in the graveyard (they'd been keeping a close eye on those graves still) and he certainly knew who Darren was.  "I won't bother Stewart with that - he'll have his hands full when the next round of scholars shows up."

With a groan she let her head drop back, staring up into the sky.  "Don't remind me. The first group was nosy enough."

"These ones are coming from Vega 5 and ought to be more interested in the technical side of things rather than...well."

She flashed him a smile.  "Rather than wanting to study me and how folks in the Old World lived?"

"Yeah, I guess you could say that.  I didn't think they were bothering you too much...were they?"

"Not...really?  It kind of depends on how you want to quantify it - they didn't ask to meet with me a lot, but when they did they had notebooks full of questions that Stewart's social and technical programming couldn't answer and it'd take me an entire day to get through them."

He frowned.  "You could have said something if they were imposing on you too much."

"I could have.  But I didn't see a point in it," she sighed.  "It was something that needed to be done."

He sat up and looked at her; compared to Arlo or the Flying Pigs he didn't really get a lot of one-on-one time with her outside of these recent stretching sessions but still even he could tell something was a bit...off with her tone.  Like she was tired, or sad (and he didn't really need to consider why).  "You've got all the time in the world to answer questions."

"Maybe.  It just seemed easier to get them out of my hair and get back to-"

"-work?" Remington jutted in.  "Doesn't seem like you focus on much else.  Is everything all right?"

She blew out a breath that trailed into a buzzing raspberry.  "Not you too."

"Me too?"

"You, and Arlo, Asher and Xu - asking if I'm all right or need anything all the time or if someone is bugging me."

"...well, friends do that, don't they?"

"They do, but not every problem or bad mood can be solved by having a friend around."

He bent his good leg so he could rest his arms on his knee, and his chin on his arms, as he gazed up at her thoughtfully.  "We just -- it's not meaning to suggest anything beyond just wanting you to know the door's open, you know?  I can ask everyone to tone it down but we're just - we care.  That's all."

She closed her eyes and, after a moment, slumped her shoulders.  "I know, and I get it, and I'm thankful for having friends around ready and willing to support and help.  But it's... It's like picking at a scab. Each time I get asked, it's picking - and if you keep picking it never closes or heals, and the scar is a million times worse.  And with what they did to Darren's grave I feel like someone took a diamond sander to the scab and ground down to the bone.  Just when I thought I was doing better.  I talk to Xu, and it helps, but each well-meaning question from everyone else is pulling scabs right now."

"All right.  I'll quietly let the others know that you'll come to US if you need something and we should stop asking.  But, I do know we do really want to know you, and be your friends, and be there.  That's why we wanted to know about your birthday -- heck, if there's any holidays you want to celebrate I know we'll figure that out too."

She rubbed her hands across her face and held them there; when she spoke her voice was muffled but Remington didn't think she sounded too upset.  "Birthdays were celebrated only on multiples of 5.  I was born on the 15th of the first Spring.  I would need to check with Stewart to make sure I've got the years right but I last remember passing my 37th birthday."

Remington nodded slowly, and smiled at her; in his mind, very briefly, he thought 'I'm older than she is' followed immediately by the realization that no, he was not, and no one in the world was older than she was.  "All right - I'm sorry if it seemed like I was badgering you on anything but I'm also glad you told me.  Do you want me to keep quiet about it?"

"Please.  At least until I hit 40."

"It's a deal.  How would you celebrate your birthday back then?"

"Gifts, an elaborate dinner.  Costume parties were popular.  I always ended up with costume parties because New Year's Dawn had just happened, which was a city-wide costume party so you'd always have something on hand you could wear.  You'd go door to door singing songs, playing games, giving gifts, dancing in the streets.  You'd stay awake as long as you could but it was expected that you'd stay awake from dawn of the last day of the year to dawn of the second day of the new year."

"That sounds an awful lot like celebrating a holiday, and not your own  birthday."

She finally dropped her hands away from her face and shrugged at him.  "That's what happened if your birthday fell on or close to a national holiday."

Remington went to stand and tested his weight on his bad leg; there were no wobbles, no twinges, no sudden shooting pains.  "Sounds like you've had 37 years of getting the short end of the stick, then."

"You learn to live with it.  Ready to keep going?"

He didn't protest the sudden change in subject; with a bit more attention and care to how he was moving his body he managed to get through the rest of the exercises without any further trouble, and though he was pretty sore when they were done he didn't mind it too much -- his next patrol would be on horseback so the joint could rest while he rode.

"We'll get there, slowly but surely," Eli said as she walked him to the gate.  "Just take it easy for the rest of the day."

"I plan to," he replied with a chuckle.  "I was actually just thinking about that." As he latched the gate behind him he could spy Selene heading home - she was just coming out through Portia's gates. "-not to rush off or anything but I better get going.  I know Selene is just wanting to pounce over party things."

"Oh I know.  She's babbled about your birthday party these last few days.  All the more reason for YOU to keep your trap shut."

Remington laughed.  "I swear on my honor your secret is safe with me.  See you later, Eli."

He hurried off and was able to dodge around Selene with a hurried 'sorry, late for my patrol' and then he was huffing and puffing up the hill toward the Corps building to collect Arrow.

When he got there though he found his saddle was missing.  That was odd.

Spacer was there however and that saddle was where it was supposed to be; Remington hurriedly scribbled a note of explanation for Arlo and left it pinned to Spacer's stable stall then saddled him and headed down the road, and wondered how the heck he'd managed to misplace a saddle. Maybe someone had moved it since they were cleaning out the back wall in preparation of replacing a few shelves that were starting to dry rot and his was the only saddle that sat near those particular shelves.   Most of what had been sitting on those shelves was currently in a jumbled pile in the corner across from there...maybe he ought to clean a bit of that up when he got back from patrol.

----------------------------------------------

He didn't mind that Remington had borrowed Spacer -- the horse liked the man well enough so Arlo knew there wouldn't be any trouble from the animal (unlike Teddy who typically wouldn't let anyone but Sam ride him).

What he DID mind though was by the time he'd found the note the missing saddle was back in its place, and after checking it over he found that a lot of the stitching had been carefully frayed with a knife so that it was highly likely that if Remington had been IN the saddle, moving quickly, and had made any sudden movements or sudden stops, the straps would have given way and dumped him off the horse.  Teddy's saddle had likewise been tampered with but not as badly as Arrow's, and Arlo was both relieved he'd discovered that before Sam went out on a ride as well as extremely anxious for Remington's safe return because he had no reason to believe that Spacer's saddle hadn't also been sabotaged.

It was really beginning to feel like whoever was causing their current problems was trying to spread them as thin as possible, as Arlo's first thought upon discovering the sabotaged saddles was "great, now we have to watch the stables."

But...no.  That was doing exactly what their spy and or vandal would want.

He still believed that the Stupid Plan idea of Eli's had merit - in fact, this was probably a result of that, assuming their spy was also their vandal - but it was time for a change in strategy.

---------------------------------------------

"Looks like we'll be up and running within two weeks then."

It had been awhile since they'd ALL been together out at the facility; they were clustered inside the tent, looking over a collection of blueprints and measurements for the security door and signal transmitters.  Eli had been shifted off her patrols and onto helping Selene get the rest of the transmitter parts made, along with the towers they'd be mounted on.  With Eli's assistance they wouldn't need to bring in another builder for the assembly (though Higgins was producing the metal struts needed for the towers) and that left Merlin and Petra in charge of assembling the power sources (a mix of hydro, wind, and power stones).

Between work on that, and Mint overseeing the project to get the door installed...two weeks.  They would need to manage for two weeks, and then they could bring their full attention down on catching their spy.   It was nice to know that the metaphorical light at the end of the tunnel wasn't something that was going to run them over.

"Do we have anything new to discuss?" Mali asked, pausing to look around at each of them in turn.

Beside him Arlo cleared his throat and Asher turned to look at him as he leaned forward to brace his hands on the little table.

"Yes, actually.  Someone sabotaged all of our saddles yesterday.  I think it's time we get a bit more aggressive - try to draw this person out into the open."

"I agree, because whoever this is uh-" Sam stopped abruptly, glancing briefly at Eli, before sighing.  "-we had some graffiti to clean up early this morning."

"About me, I'm guessing," Eli said.

Sam nodded.  "Yeah.  Nothing too nasty but basically urging you to leave town, claiming you don't belong here, that sort of thing."

"What was the graffiti made with?  Do we have any record of anyone buying paint of that color?" Remington asked.

This time she shook her head.  "It was done with charcoal - really easy to clean up, thankfully, but it doesn't point to where it came from or who had it. And of course no one saw anyone doing it AND it was all at different heights so we can't really narrow anything down."

Arlo huffed.  "Of course.  Regardless -- I worry that letting this stretch on any further will only result in someone getting seriously hurt.  It's clear our initial plan has definitely made this person more bold - just not bold enough to come close to us like they did at the tent.  I think this may be the best we're going to get so we need to come up with our plan to catch them."

Remington nodded, running a hand through his hair briefly; it was hot and stuffy in this tent with all of them inside it and Asher felt his scalp prickle in the heat just watching how Remington's hair clumped together in damp strands.  "We've set a trap once before for that rogue knight - we can always do it again."

"Well, maybe," Sam said, drawing out the last word.  "The thing is, THAT time we definitely knew what the knight was after.  There's a lot more down in the facility besides Stewart and if we set a trap it needs to be baited with whatever it is they're hoping to steal."

"It also needs to look natural - we got away with the last trap since it was in a ruins that were already falling apart.  This facility is much more preserved and it's going to be harder to set something up without it looking off," Mali added.

In the brief pause that followed that exchange Asher sat up a bit straighter.  "Well, it's common knowledge that we're expanding the clinic in town soon.  We could use that as our staging area instead since it's going to be pretty obvious that we're moving Stewart's station there."

Arlo grimaced.  "Yes, but that would be dangerous and tricky. Setting this trap would be dependent on no one else being at risk of injury -- we know this person is armed, after all, and we can't control when someone might try to trip the trap.  I don't want to put Dr. Xu or Harrison, or anyone else who might be at the clinic, in danger."

Eli lightly elbowed Asher in the ribs.  "AND I don't want Stewart's tech in danger of being damaged either -- if it breaks that's it because while I MIGHT know how to fix it it won't be as simple as heading down to the shop to pick up the right parts."

"Yeah...you're right about that part," Asher muttered.  "So it would have to be replicas, and we'd be guessing at what the spy would go for. Do you think they'd actually know what to grab if we baited them with the server stuff or basic computer pieces?"

Eli raised an eyebrow.  "Assuming they're not expecting that again? I could make something that looks genuine, important, and expensive."

Remington let out a thoughtful noise, leaning toward Eli. "How complicated would it be to do that?  I don't even know what...whatever we're talking about looks like."

"Not...TOO complicated, I don't think?  I -- hang on, wait.  Before we get too far ahead of ourselves I need to know what's common knowledge about tech these days.  Exactly how complicated and fancy I'd need to make the replicas would kind of depend on what people know or think these things look like."

They all fell silent; Asher glanced about and could see lots of thoughtful faces - he was hopeful that that meant someone had an answer, because he definitely didn't.  Technology wasn't something he studied or thought about much and he'd consider himself the last person anyone ought to be asking about Old World stuff.

Finally, Mali tipped her head back to look up toward the tent's ceiling.  "There's some common knowledge about Old World components but it's mostly regarding the things we commonly find.  Everyone knows what chipsets are, circuit boards, monitors and displays, and odds and ends that get lumped together just as 'old parts.'  We also have access to old engines of varying types that we've successfully re-created ourselves so we no longer need to rely on digging them up.  In this case... I'm not sure I have the answer.  But I know who would."

There was a brief pause then Arlo nodded.  "Ah, right.  The scholars from Vega 5 will be here soon."

Mali nodded.  "Vega 5 is full of people who have studied Living AIs, and they and Atara both have large libraries full of blueprints and books on Old World tech along with everything their museums have catalogued on display.  They'd be the ones to ask about what they would consider common knowledge."

"But would they know what's common knowledge in Duvos though?" Eli asked.

Mali shrugged.  "It's possible.  I'm not privy to everything that's been discovered through the Alliance's information networks -- the Flying Pigs are an adventuring guild who sometimes get tapped to help provide law enforcement.  I know more than most but ultimately we're not a military group so we're only told what we need to know for the tasks we're given." Eli scratched at her cheek; Asher noted that, due to the heat and sweat, the simple gesture left a pair of angry red marks across her skin  "Right...  Maybe I should go talk to Gale when we're done here -- er, assuming you aren't putting me back on patrol duty?" she added after a moment, looking to Arlo.

"No, go talk to Gale - this is important.  Afterward get back to those signal transmitters," came Arlo's answer.

"Understood."

"You sure you don't need an extra pair of hands with those things?" Asher asked then, looking between Arlo and Eli.  "At the very least I can tote and carry."

Arlo considered that for a moment, then glanced to Eli.  "Your thoughts?"

She huffed out a breath. "Carrying, sure.  But it'd just slow us down if we have to explain how to assemble.  We DO need someone to start bundling the tower pieces and that's also something you could do without much instruction needed - get the finished bits from Higgins, ensure we've got everything, sort it out into sets for assembly.  Basic stuff."

"All right -- go ahead and help them with the heavy lifting and getting the tower parts ready to transport.  Eli, once you've talked to Gale come find me in the Corps building -- Mali, if you'd like to join me for that feel free." Mali and Eli both nodded, and Arlo blew out a breath.  "I think that covers everything-"

"Hey- HEY!"

They all jumped to their feet at the shout from beyond the tent; Asher was still getting to know a lot of the townsfolk but he thought that sounded a lot like--

As he was closest to the tent flap Asher stuck his head out to see Albert sprinting toward them; when the man saw him he started waving his hands and his sprint was slowing.  Asher in turn hurried out of the tent and began running toward him, faintly aware of the sound of several pairs of feet following along behind him, and about halfway to the man Albert came to a stop entirely and doubled over with his hands on his knees, panting harshly.

"What's wrong?  What's happened?"

"Portia...ruins...cave in..." Albert was gasping as Asher came skidding to a stop beside him.  "One under...church..."

"Oh hell," Asher muttered.  He spun around as Eli, Arlo, Mali, and Remington reached them.  "Cave in at the ruins under the church."

"Was anyone hurt?" Arlo asked immediately.  Albert could only nod as he struggled to catch his breath and Arlo broke into a run again while calling orders over his shoulder.  "Asher - take Albert to the tent to catch his breath.  Remington and Eli with me."

The others went running off and Asher put a hand on Albert's shoulder.  "Sit down here in the grass, mind the marshy spots - we'll take a minute here and then we'll walk to the tent, all right?"

"I'll ask Sam to stay out here with Adam," Mali interrupted.  "After that I will join Arlo and the others in town - stay with Albert until he's recovered then escort him back to town."

"Got it," Asher replied.  Mali immediately ran back the way she'd come and Asher turned his attention back to Albert.  "Deep breaths, man, it'll be all right.  Do you know what happened?"

Albert took several more breaths; he seemed to be breathing a bit easier.  After an especially deep breath he lifted his head to look up at Asher.  "Not...a clue.  Heard a...loud noise.  Couple folks...out of the ruins, shouting...about a cave in.  Gale already there...told me to come get you all. I was closest."

Damn it... They should have had this meeting at the Corps building, not all the way out here; even as he thought that he knew that was very unfair as all their patrol routes for this morning had had them all out this way and it was quickest and easiest to gather here, but...  Well, honestly it could have been worse timing.  At least out here they'd all been in one place but had this happened at any other time of day or any other day in general they would've been spread across the countryside with only two of them in town.

"Think you can make it to the tent?  We'll get some water in you, can sit a bit, then we'll head back to Portia."

Albert nodded and straightened and the two of them began to (slowly) walk toward the Pigs's tent.  Mali was already heading back toward them and they exchanged nods as she passed and kept on going.

"What kind of loud noise did you hear?"

"Just a loud boom and a rumbling."

Asher frowned - a loud boom?  "Like...a KABOOM-kind of boom?  Like something exploded?"

"I couldn't tell you.  It was more - more of a sound that sort of hit you in the chest, more than in the ears, and one you could feel through your feet.  Our building is closest to those ruins so it's no wonder that we heard something."

"We?  You and Gust I'm guessing?"

Albert nodded.  "I went to the ruins, and Gust went for Gale.  And then Gale told me to run out here."

"How many came out of those ruins?"

"Um - I saw three folks.  Covered in dust, one of them was bloodied. They were all shaken up and just shouting 'cave in cave in' over and over."

Asher went quiet, chewing on his lower lip.  He wanted to simply believe that the ruins had partially collapsed but something nagged at him over it; the Civil Corps and the Flying Pigs both conducted regular inspections of all ruins across the Alliance of Free Cities to make sure they remained safe for public use.  There's NO WAY they would've missed a structural weakness that was so dangerous as to cause a cave in...someone on the inside had to have caused this.  A careless digger, or...

The saddles might have just been the first attempt to send a message.

---------------------------------------------

Four injured, one dead.  All in all, considering there had been eight people inside the ruins at the time of the collapse, it could have been much worse.

Still.  It was slightly guilt-inducing to feel relieved that ONLY one person had been killed -- no one was sure where she'd come from but they'd matched her description to the list of Happy Apartment hotel-based rentals so they had a name but no way to contact any next of kin, nor did they know if this Kara person had any sort of surname at all either.  It would make for a somewhat plain headstone but at least they had the first name.

Sam, along with Mali and Higgins, had worked quickly to get a makeshift door in place and the rest of the entryway to the ruins boarded up; tomorrow Dana would be traveling to Portia to help Mali investigate what had caused the collapse.  Sam had wanted to go in with them as well but she'd gotten a resounding "no" from Arlo, Mali, and Gale - all at the same time, no less.  She supposed that made sense as she wasn't a miner or builder or anyone who would know anything about structural integrity (or whatever Mali had called it), and the fewer people at risk inside for a follow up collapse, the better.

As she walked up the hill toward the Corps building it was hard to miss the silence in this half of town; Ack hadn't been at his usual spot in the plaza, there weren't any tourists or townsfolk walking about.   Even the Round Table had seemed a bit quiet when she'd passed by moments ago.

Portia had certainly had a streak of bad luck lately...  The pessimistic side of her wondered how the spy would find a way to take advantage of the chaos.

As she crested the hill she spotted a man leaning against the railing of the stairs that led down to the central plaza; he had his back to her but she recognized the coat he had on (even in this heat).

"Bob?  I thought you would've moved on by now," she called out.

The man jumped and spun around, stumbling a bit as he boot caught on an upraised stone.  "Huh!  Huh?  Well.  Yeah, maybe.  Thought I should. Been tired lately."

Sam nodded and walked over, crossing her arms and eying the man.  He was a harmless drifter and she didn't suspect anything of him but he was also somewhat regular - he arrived in the spring, left at the start of the summer season, and then came back mid-autumn.  "Something wrong?"

"Not really.  Just got a feeling.  Road might not be safe."

She frowned.  "What do you mean?"

"I remember someone telling me there was a thief around.  I don't carry valuables.  But that's not all someone could take."

"Bob... Do you think someone's trying to harm you in some way?" she asked.

The man fidgeted a bit.  "Not me.  I think?  But I've seen some ghosts.  Footprints out of thin air.  I don't want to share a road with it."

Sam stared at him.  "...where did you see these footprints?  Can you show me?"

Bob shook his head.  "Not now - been too long.  Saw them on the beach while I was stargazing.  Walking west.  Too close to where I'd pass going back south."

"How long ago was this?"

The man shrugged, then scratched at his head.  "Not sure.  I don't do so well with time anymore."

"But it was recent, at least?"

He nodded; Sam mulled that over -- it sounded like Bob had spotted their spy out in the wild.  "How about we walk together to where you saw the footprints and you tell me whatever you can remember about when you saw them and what you were doing?"

He nodded again and walked with her back down the hill.  As they passed under the gates she wondered if she shouldn't call for back up but...  Well.  She could think of a lot of reasons to do so, and the reasons not to didn't seem as convincing so as they continued down the road she gestured for them to detour toward Selene's house.  Eli ought to be in the factory helping assemble, and Asher ought to be here too.   Surely one of them could shift over to walk out to...wherever, with her and Bob.

---------------------------------------------------------

That she hadn't known Kara made it easier to look genuine when it came to keeping her expression appropriately sad-looking as they buried the woman; it was a small ceremony with a smattering of Portians present, along with the full force of the Civil Corps -- being as she didn't see them she assumed that the Flying Pigs members were out at the facility, as usual.  They seemed to never, ever leave the place unguarded and, as she'd discovered the other evening while doing some recon, there was a gigantic build project of some kind being carried out at the facility's entrance now -- if she had to guess it looked like some sort of covering, or door.  

That likely meant they were really doubling down on the security out there, and while what she was after was being moved out of the facility she was beginning to get worried -- if they sealed that place up tight that would free the Pigs up to directly watch the construction of the clinic addition and the installation of the All Source AI.  

And that would make Lily's job even harder while now also being down a team member.

After the funeral it was announced that the ruins would be closed for the time being to conduct an investigation into the cause of the collapse; that at least didn't effect any of them remaining but it ALSO carried the high risk of bringing in more outside people -- more Pigs, more nosy law-types, the possibilities were starting to pile up.

Days ago she'd been bitching about how long it was taking them to start construction; she'd seen buildings put up in a matter of days in Duvos -- how hard could one addition to an already existing building be?

Now... As much as she didn't want to disappoint Xan, they might indeed have to change their plans to have any chance of this heist succeeding.

---------------------------------------------------

They always put out the paper on the first of every month.  Always.   Without fail -- even if it meant that she and Erwa stayed up all night fixing issues with their printing press machine or working to get wording on an article juuuuust right.

The first of the month was still six days away but Gale had asked for a special edition to be produced.  It was the hardest thing Mei had ever had to write: all this...all this alarming detail on a vandal, a thief attempting to break into the medical facility in the marsh, and now the devastating discovery that the cave in two days ago had been purposely caused by tiny explosive charges.  It was such awful news that sometimes Mei found her hand shaking as she scribbled notes and drew arrows or crossed out paragraphs as she tried to get things into order both chronologically and also in a manner that flowed well for reading.

There were still a few hours to go before they needed to start printing and there was just one thing Mei wanted to get done before then but then again... It wasn't a nice subject and she didn't want to offend anyone - especially not the person she'd like to interview regarding all this.

But.  She wouldn't know if she'd be offending unless she asked.

Selene's workshop was a familiar sight - Mei had been out here a lot over the years, both before and after large city projects were announced and completed with the builder's help - so she knew better than to knock on the house's door and instead marched up to to the factory door and really gave it a good pounding.  After a few minutes the door opened and an oil-smudged Selene was framed in the doorway, and once it registered who was there Mei was offered a big, bright smile.

"Hey!  What're you doing out here?"

"Hello Selene!  I was wondering if Eli was still here?"

Selene nodded and stepped aside, gesturing with one hand toward a makeshift workbench set up perpendicular to her usual one; lined up shoulder to shoulder was Eli, Petra, and Merlin, all hurriedly working to assemble bits and doodads that Mei guessed was all meant to fit into a much bigger contraption of some kind.  

It was unusually quiet in here today as well; only a handful of the machines were running -- that must mean whatever Selene was working on either didn't need a lot of pieces or maybe it was almost complete.  She stepped inside and out of the way so Selene could close the door and then noted that the latest member of the Civil Corps, Asher, was sorting large metal struts and rods into organized piles against the far wall, moving about in short bursts and then checking off things on a clipboard he had hanging off his belt.

"I'm not interrupting something I shouldn't, am I?"

"Not really - we can spare a pair of hands for a bit."  Selene led Mei over toward Eli and the Research Center gals.  "Mei's wanting to talk to you, Eli."

The woman looked up at them (though Mei noticed her hands didn't stop what they were doing - it was kind of impressive to see her keep working without her looking at the pieces) and silently lifted an eyebrow.

"Oh - um, yes.  I was wondering if you could spare some time to give a few statements for the article we're writing for the paper?" Mei asked into the pause.

"Uh..." Eli drew the word out, returning her attention to what her hands were doing.  It seemed immediately clear that whatever her answer was going to be it would have to wait until she'd finished off this piece of...whatever it was; Mei waited patiently, and watched with a bit of curiosity, until Eli had slotted all the pieces together and tightened down all the screws.  "-all right, sure.  Let's step outside for some air."

Mei led the way outside and then followed as Eli took an abrupt turn to the western side of the factory -- there was a cluster of stools out here and they both settled on one, and Mei hurried to pull out her little notebook.

"All right - of course, if you find any of my questions upsetting it's perfectly fine not to answer.  I don't mind at all!"

Eli nodded.  "Ask away."

"How would you say the situation is currently going?"

"Which one are you referring to?"

"Let's start with the vandal.  It couldn't have been easy to see the gravestone damaged like that."

For several breaths Eli didn't answer.  Mei sat patiently with her pen poised over the blank sheet of notebook paper with her free hand pinning the loose edge down; this side of the factory was currently in the shade and the breeze was a bit strong as the wind rushed along the flat brick.  It was a nice place to sit but if she wasn't careful her notes would get scattered across the yard since not all the pages were still bound to the wire spiral.

"It wasn't, no.  It's clear whoever did it wanted their message heard, and intended it to hurt.  It did, I won't lie, but also, it really shows just how much of a coward this person is since they didn't confront me directly.  Same with all the other instances of graffiti lately -- they're not brave enough to say anything to my face.  In that context, it's a bit comical."

It took about the same amount of time for Mei to write that down as it had for Eli to say it.  "-and do you have any guesses as to who this person is?"  Eli shook her head but didn't elaborate; Mei added a little mark after the quote to remind herself of the answer.  "How about things out at the medical facility?  Has there been any further attempts to break in?"

"No, and soon there won't be any chances of a break in either.  We're installing a security door and will work toward preserving the facility as it is."

Mei had heard about the door - she wondered what it would look like when it was done.  "And do you have any opinion on the expansion at the clinic, since it's rumored that you'll be incorporating an All Source AI into the building?"

Eli blinked at her.  "Incorp- uh, maybe that definition has changed in three hundred years but we're not incorporating him into anything.   He'll be installed and be there to teach and treat, but he won't be in charge of or able to run the clinic by himself.  For one, there's no other computers or AIs for him to oversee, and secondly the building will be just a building without any tech for him to monitor either."

"Do you have any worries about how having an All Source AI teaching humans would be seen in the greater world?"

With a loud sigh Eli leaned back against the brick wall.  "I do, sort of.  I worry that zealots in your Church won't be able to look past him being a part of the Old World and try to destroy him, in which case all the knowledge he holds would be lost along with him.  Hand in hand with that I also worry about what he'd be teaching and to whom."

Mei looked up from her notes in surprise.  "You think he'd teach something bad?  Or bad people?"

"Not exactly "bad" in either case, its more I worry people will try to somehow hoard the knowledge -- even hypothetical enemies deserve the right to live disease and injury free.  I wouldn't really say there's right and wrong people to teach, but I do think there will be people out there who think they're the only ones who have a right to the knowledge, or who think some knowledge is fine but some of it should be scrubbed from history.  We even had a bit of a problem with myths and misinformation regarding certain diseases in my time and that was with an entire world's worth of knowledge available to anyone at any time."

Mei slowly nodded at that; it reminded her of an article she'd written a few years ago about the push-back of remedies coming from a doctor in Vega 5.  "So, even if people don't want to keep the knowledge to themselves there's also a question of whether some would accept it, at all."

"Exactly. I imagine there's going to be a lot of entrenched doctors scattered across the world who think their way is best and will be unwilling to change.  It'll be a bit messy in the upcoming years but I hope the overall health and life expectancy of the world goes up as the knowledge spreads -- and hopefully it'll be fairly uniform across the world, not just in small clusters due to hoarding or refusal to adapt."

With her hand cramping from how quickly she was trying to write Mei managed to get all that down in her notes; she'd gotten a little carried away as she'd only wanted a few lines to quote but this could potentially be an article all on its own.  She was just about to shut the book when a thought occurred to her. "Oh!  Right - there's been a lot of questions about the metal towers that were put up recently.  Are you able to explain what those are for?"

"You guys use telegraphs for long distance communication, right?"

Mei nodded.  "For messages that can't wait for couriers."

"Right.  So, those towers are the first of many that will hold...how to put it in simple terms...  Think of a telegraph that doesn't need wires, is more reliable and secure, and also can just send words instead of having to tap a little button and have someone translate at the other end.  We're trying it out here in Portia and maybe in the future, assuming it works and can be reliably maintained, we could extend it across the continent."

"What, really?" Mei asked, eyes widening.  "That's huge!"    

Eli was giving her an amused look and Mei realized her jaw was hanging open; she scrawled an almost unreadable note about the towers underneath the rest of it.  "Ah, um - uh, so, when will THAT project be completed?"

"It'll take some time.  Getting everything installed is the easy part.  Getting it all to work correctly will be hard."

"So...no...expected...completion date yet?" Mei asked as she wrote, glancing up from the writing to Eli, then underlining the 'no' as Eli shook her head.  "That's very exciting... Will it be something anyone could use?  Will it cost a lot?"

Eli paused, then offered a half shrug.  "Well, I guess that first answer is yes and no.  In terms of complexity anyone will be able to use it because it's not difficult at all to learn, but initially there's going to be a problem with getting parts to both maintain and expand it so there won't be a lot of the system in place for widespread use to start.  I don't have any idea on cost just yet - we're using a combination of wind, water, and power stones to start off with.  I'm relatively certain I know how much energy this will draw but won't know exact numbers until its been up and running for awhile."

"And...you're ok with this technology spreading?"

Eli snorted loudly.  "I am," she replied, placing heavy emphasis on 'I.'  "No idea about the rest of the world."

Mei hummed to herself as she put down a few more notes.  "This could be an article by itself... All right.  That was everything I had in mind for this piece.  Unless you'd like to add anything?"

"Not in particular."

"Well, thank you!" Mei said, smiling and shoving a hand toward her.   Eli shook it with a bit of a smile and then stood.  "I'll get this over to the paper and you'll be seeing it in print soon!"

Eli didn't reply beyond nodding, then led the way around the building where she went back inside while Mei headed toward the gate; she felt a bit lightheaded -- like she was floating across the grass.  The prospect of a better, more secure communications system that was instantaneous made her giddy; imagine how much faster information could travel.  Imagine how quickly a message back home could reach family...how much easier it would be to stay in touch with the Atara Post about her progress with the Portia Times.  

There were dozens of ways she could instantly imagine her life getting easier if this communication thing worked, and that was just for HER - she couldn't even clearly conceive all the ways the entire Alliance could make use of such a thing.

As she walked through the doors into the news building she managed to pull her thoughts away from the communications scoop and set herself back on track regarding the special edition Gale had asked them to put out; it didn't appear Erwa was here but that was ok - Mei could work on a rough draft and get his opinion later when he came back.

Eli hadn't been the only one she'd interviewed today so the first order of business was to quickly reread her notes and decide where to insert Eli's bit into the order she'd tentatively decided on earlier; this article needed to be a direct and firm read, with a logical flow to the information, but it couldn't have a tone to it that would cause undue alarm. People had a right to know that the cave in was actually a murder, but how to word it so that it wouldn't cause a panic in town...

And also, the more she thought about it, the less sense it made to include anything referencing the communications project.  Prior to talking to Eli she'd assumed the towers were related to the security project out at the facility but now it seemed they were unrelated to each other, and...well, if they had a vandal snooping around it wouldn't do to draw attention to something this valuable.

...yeah.  It made more sense to relegate the communications towers to its own separate article, AFTER the vandal (or murderer?  Or both?) had been taken care of.  At the very least that cut out a good amount of information she would've had to figure out how to fit onto the front page with everything else.

---------------------------------------------------

Windsor had "claimed" a small area of the Peach Plaza for his impromptu performances; a decent number of people expected him to be there in the mornings and later at night, showing off his juggling and throwing skills (a few had even donated some small straw targets for him to use so he'd changed up his routine a bit).  It may have just been a cover job but it was bringing in decent money; it was a nice little perk to the whole thing but if they didn't get moving on this theft job soon he wouldn't be able to keep playing off the "too poor to go back home" angle of his cover story.

The atmosphere in Portia seemed a bit...strange this morning.  There weren't nearly as many people moving about in the central plaza as usual, and as he went plodding up the hill passed the shops he was a bit alarmed to see a small crowd of people that WEREN'T his usual audience huddled roughly in his spot near the fountain.  As he drew closer he could see all of them clutching papers in hand, and there was a dull roar of chatter among them.  In their midst was a squat, hairy man in an orange vest and hat, and a blonde woman wearing a blue and white pointy hat; they appeared to be handing out whatever the paper was, and when he finally got close enough to the gathering he saw it was a thin newspaper with "SPECIAL EDITION" printed in big, bold letters across its top with "Portia Times" printed in slightly smaller text beneath it.

Through a gap in the crowd the hat-wearing blonde noticed him, and carefully wound her way through the group toward him with one of the papers in hand, pushed out toward him.

"Good morning, sir - would you like to read this special release of the Portia Times?  This copy is free, paid for by Portia's government."

"Uh...sure.  What seems to be the ruckus?" he replied, taking the paper and skimming the-

...oh.  Oh boy.  Well, that wasn't good.

[hutchhitched]

Social Commentary in The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, Part III

Part 3. Yeah… There’s a whole lot going on in the last third of the book, and I may have had to put it down a few times because I got really excited about how she wove the new book with the original trilogy. I know some people thought Part 3 was over the top, but I found it purposeful and deliberately on the nose, and I think that’s why it works. If you want to see my thoughts on the rest of the book, here are the links to Part 1 and Part 2.

 Major spoilers below:

Tagging some who asked me to and/or are interested: @the-tesseract-wrinkling-time​, @shesasurvivor​, @everlarkedalways​, @xerxia31​, @infinitegraces​, @panemposts, and @endlessnightlock​. Some others are tagged throughout.

 Before we move on to Part 3, I have to backtrack to something from Part 2 I forgot to include in the previous meta (I blame being up till 7 am and only getting four hours of sleep for that). In Chapter 18, Reaper stabs and rips the Panem flag and then uses it to cover the fallen tributes. The reaction of the mentors is shock and horror that the flag has been treated in such a manner. There’s a lot to unpack here. First, desecration of the flag in the US (and I’d guess most other countries, too) is almost always guaranteed to get a reaction. There have been attempts to pass a constitutional amendment to make it a federal crime to burn the flag. Others argue burning the flag is something protected as freedom of speech. Yet, official guidelines for how to treat the flag are broken all the time by letting it touch the ground, not lighting it, not taking it down during inclement weather, and turning it into a massive symbol of patriotism by holding it horizontally on a football field. I saw someone make reference to the outrage against NFL players kneeling during the national anthem as being disrespectful to the flag (even though that was a suggestion of a military veteran, as opposed to sitting during the anthem instead) rather than being outraged at the actions those players were protesting (police brutality against African American men). So, who is it that rips down the flag? Reaper, the tribute from District 11. Rue and Thresh were District 11, as were Chaff and Seeder. All were portrayed in the movies by African American actors. It’s fairly clear in the books that it’s a predominately black district. In other words, it’s likely Reaper is also a black man who tears down the flag of a country that oppresses him so he can provide cover and give dignity to the dead tributes. Now, think about it from a “rebel” perspective, and imagine that’s a Confederate flag that was ripped down. I know in the books that the Districts are the rebels and the Panem flag is more connected to the Capitol, but still. The debate over the (mostly successful) removal of the Confederate flag from former slave states has raged in the US in the past decade. Probably the most famous image of that debate is when a black woman climbed the flagpole at the South Carolina Statehouse and ripped down the flag. Remove the flag of the government that oppresses you, which is what Reaper does.

 Something I find really interesting is the lack of technology in this book. Panem obviously has advanced technology, but it’s not nearly as present as it is in the trilogy. I’m gonna go out on a limb and assume that’s a result of the depressed economy, and by the time we get to the 74th Hunger Games, the economy in the Capitol has recovered and been used to develop new technologies and products that make life easier for citizens. That’s a post-World War II/1950s consumerism analogy if I’ve ever seen one. Post World War II affluence in the United States was a major factor in the development of new weapons and technology. Because American workers were making more and had savings and wages rose 100% between 1945 and 1968, Americans spent more, bought more, and paid more income tax. The solidification of capitalism as America’s economic system helped the US “win” the Cold War against the Soviets. Because Americans made more and were subsequently taxed more, the government had more money to develop new weapons and technologies. The first computer, the hydrogen bomb, vaccines for polio and smallpox, NASA, and the development of ICBMs all took place during this era. A strong economy typically makes people think the nation/government is strong. Not coincidentally, an early counterculture developed during the 1950s that protested against increased consumerism and senseless spending. The Beats/Beatniks/Beat Generation disliked that Americans spent so much money on frivolous things while others (African Americans, the rural poor, and so on) suffered. Sounds a lot like the Capitol citizens who spent lavishly and didn’t care about the districts. As a slight aside, Allen Ginsberg, one of the Beat Generation’s poets, wrote Howl, which calls out capitalism and repression. I wrote The Cry for @promptsinpanem’s prompt Howl in homage to that. Someday, I might actually expand it.

 In Part 2, I wasn’t sure who had the power, and I really couldn’t figure out Highbottom. That’s mostly cleared up for me by the end of the book. I was intrigued by Pluribus Bell’s (many bells, I love it!) story about Highbottom and Snow’s father before Snow left for District 12. It was the seed that let me hope we’d get more information, and we did. Crassus Xanthos Snow is Snow’s father. Crassus was a member of the First Triumvirate (Julius Caesar, Pompey, and Crassus) and helped transition the Roman Republic to the Roman Empire (from pre to post Hunger Games). He also gained power and influence as a soldier during the slave uprising of Spartacus (became a hero during a rebel uprising). Also, Xanthos is a city in Turkey that’s been conquered repeatedly but always recovers (Snow lands on top!). Highbottom’s first name is Casca, who was one of Caesar’s best friends, but he ends up being the first person to stab Caesar during his assassination. The break in the relationship between the two men is clearly why Highbottom turns on (young) Snow, and the explanation about how the Hunger Games come to be is a pretty big allegory to the betrayal of Crassus (Caesar) by Casca. Also, that explains why Highbottom didn’t ever really seem to be supportive of the Games, even though he was credited as their creator. ( @everlvrks)

 There are a lot of references to Roman names and places in this book and the trilogy. The Capitol seems pretty obsessed with the Classics and wants to reflect that type of lifestyle and elitism. During grad school, one of the books I had to read discussed the obsession America’s Founding Fathers (Washington, Hamilton, Jefferson, and so on) had with the Classics. They emulated Greek and Roman ideals. The District of Columbia (Washington, DC) is named after the Roman goddess of Liberty. Jefferson’s and Washington’s homes use classical architecture like domes and columns and many of the federal buildings (the Capital and White House) reflect that. Add on the Washington Monument (an obelisk—which are found all over in the ancient world) and the columns of the Lincoln Memorial and the dome and columns of the Jefferson Memorial, and well… The Founding Fathers were Deists who revered the Classics, which is why I (a religious historian) always laugh when people tell me the US was founded on religion. Yeah, and the Civil War wasn’t fought over slavery, either.

 Before this book, I would never have thought about Snow having a history with District 12 or a stint as a peacekeeper. I even looked ahead to the title for Part 3 and still didn’t realize that was going to happen, but it makes sense. First, Snow seems to have known Katniss much better than can really be explained. Her hunting outside the fence and her escapes to the Lake were never really solitary because he knew the area. He’d been there before. He’d visited Lucy Gray in the Seam, been to the meadow, and so on. Some people may see that as too much, but it absolutely fits with the draconian oversight of the Capitol during Katniss’ time, and it indicates why Snow was so intrigued and obsessed with her. Second, Snow’s experience in the military would have worked wonders for his political career. He won the Hunger Games, served as peacekeeper, visited the districts, became the youngest person to qualify for officer training, and went to the university. That’s a stellar resumé for a budding politician. Clearly, he was exceptional. Terrible, but exceptional (which is said about super-villain Voldemort in Harry Potter, too).

 I had to stop and put the book down and wiggle with glee when the tree appeared in the distance. I didn’t think we’d get the actual Hanging Tree in the book, but that might have been the most thrilling part for me. It wasn’t overt. She didn’t name it. She just set the scene, but I knew what it was. And then to have the hanging and the man yell out to his “love” and the mockingjays pick up his cry and for Snow to see a mockingjay and immediately hate it… Oh, good night, nurse. It’s just too much. That’s when I made this post. I’ll admit, I have a thing for lone, massive trees. My dad has one on his farm, and there’s a huge, very old Burr oak that’s a local tourist attraction close to where I went to college. I felt like I was driving down the road and seeing it rise from the distance, which I did way too many times during undergrad and grad school.

 References to the Covey having traveled and planning to again travel north were clear indicators that District 13 was alive and well (sorry for the on the nose pun) even back then. It seems obvious to me that Snow kept that information in the back of his mind as he took power and anticipated an eventual attack from there. The fact that his family’s fortune was destroyed in District 13 makes it even more appropriate that the final rebellion came from there, too.

 I didn’t like Lucy Gray in the first two parts of the book, and I’m still not completely taken with her. There’s just something about her I don’t quite trust, and I’m not convinced she was completely in love with Snow. Sejanus thinks she is, but I’m also not sure I trust him to be the most perceptive person either. I’ve discussed this briefly already with some others, but I’m still on the fence about her. I acknowledge that she doesn’t have the same power as Snow does, so it’s not possible by definition for her to play him, but I do think she’s manipulative. Peeta is, too, so that’s not necessarily a bad thing, but it does indicate she’s not exactly who she says she is. Lucy Gray’s job as a performer gives me even more pause because her living is made by putting on a show, by performing, by convincing an audience that what she’s doing is authentic. For lack of a better way to put it—If Lucy Gray is a performer, how would Snow ever know what’s real and what’s not real? Sound familiar? (This part’s for you, @lovely-tothe-bone.)

 The songs:

Deep in the Meadow—It’s a lot disconcerting that Katniss’ lullaby to her sister is a song Snow’s heard before out of the mouth of the woman he once loved. Equally disturbing to know that he’s been in the meadow, and I really thought that the song was going to be about Lucy Gray and Snow together there. I’m glad it stayed a lullaby and not a love song. I think it’s fabulous that Katniss and Peeta reclaim the meadow for themselves as a place where their daughter dances. It’s a little bit (a lot) poetic.

 The Hanging Tree—Well, now that we know where that story comes from, I like it even more. The only part of the book I didn’t really like was Snow thinking he had something figured out and then rethinking and then changing his mind and so on. There was a little bit too much of that as he tried to decipher song lyrics, and particularly with this song.

 The public domain songs—I grew up singing these songs (although with some slightly different words), so they all brought a smile to my face. Probably my favorite rendition of Keep on the Sunny Side is from the movie Oh Brother! Where Art Thou? The entire soundtrack is very bluegrass, and good bluegrass is delightful. And it’s nice to know what the Valley Song really is.

 Unnamed—Okay, so my favorite was the first one at the Hob (pp. 362-364). I’m no songwriter, but I could hear the tune, and it was very Lumineers (maybe crossed with the Dixie Chicks?). Upbeat and peppy and feel good, all the way. I also find it interesting that music and concerts are outlawed in District 12 once there’s a new base commander. An allegory on the tendency to cut art programs first? On the power of art as a motivation for action? Both?

 Which brings us to the star-crossed lovers of District 12, or something. Obviously, this brings up images of Katniss and Peeta, but probably the most famous reference is in Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet with the star-crossed lovers taking their lives. That’s often read as them being fated to die, which is something Snow seems to follow. He mentions his destiny and fate many times and doesn’t do a very good job of recognizing his choices. There’s one time during the Games when he resolves to do the right thing, but otherwise, no. Shakespeare does also say in Julius Caesar that the fault is not in our stars, but in ourselves (which John Greene used in his book title). Snow doesn’t want to take responsibility for what he does. He chooses to follow the rules instead of what is right. He’s legalistic instead of ethical. There’re a lot of philosophical and religious undertones to that, but I’ll let that float for a while.

 On page 386, Lucy Gray tells Snow, “You’re mine and I’m yours. It’s written in the stars.” I’ll be honest, I almost dropped the book when I read that. In Catching Fire, Katniss says the same thing about Gale, but she doesn’t end up with him. They aren’t fated. She ends up with Peeta, who she chooses to love. I should have known from that point that Lucy Gray and Snow would not end up together, but I still wasn’t sure how that was going to happen. I really did think she was going to break up with him or betray him somehow because that was the only thing I could think of that would make him stop loving her and turn into what he becomes. A broken heart is a really good reason for revenge, but what actually happens so much worse. ( @mtk4fun  and @norbertsmom )

 Snow and Lucy Gray decide to run away together, just like Katniss and Gale were going to in the original trilogy. Lucy Gray is worried the mayor’s going to kill her, and Snow doesn’t want to live without her. Except he realizes really quickly that he doesn’t like life on the run. It’s beneath him. He deserves better. He’s entitled to and fated for more, he thinks. On top of that, he’s passed the officer’s training exam, and suddenly there’s a way out of the pit into which he’s fallen. And then he lies to Lucy Gray.

 Lucy Gray’s said all along the most important thing to her is trust, and then he lies to her. He doesn’t tell her he had a hand in turning in Sejanus. He doesn’t tell her because he’s afraid of losing her, which is a selfish reason, not one to spare her feelings or to protect her. He lies to protect himself. By the time they get to the cabin at the lake, he’s decided he’s not going with her, and she’s realized he’s lied to her. And then the weapon he used to commit murder (for her or him?) is there. Snow snaps quickly after that. There’s a metaphor, I’m sure about him losing his hold on reality and self-control when he’s past the boundaries of civilization, but he falls really, really quickly. He goes from wanting to tell her he’s changed his mind to attempting to murder her. The only thing that really stops him is the snake bite, which is not fatal, but reminds me why I didn’t trust Lucy Gale. Was it deliberate? Did she leave him on purpose? Does she escape him, or does he manage to cut her down? Either way, he doesn’t choose love. Love, which is a selfless act, isn’t his end game. He chooses himself. He chooses being selfish and looking out for himself instead of others. He doesn’t like being vulnerable. He clinically plans to marry someone he doesn’t love, so he never feels exposed again. In short, he makes the opposite choice Katniss does, and that makes all the difference.

 A few other things because this is way too long at this point:

 Peacekeepers: Boot camp for peacekeepers was interesting and strongly resembles the process of the military stripping down differences and making each soldier part of a machine. Haircuts, uniforms, routines, and so on are all about stripping away his identity, and he hates every second of it. He’s too good for that, and there’s entitlement all over the place. That’s very different from the peacekeepers from the districts who join the military as a way out of poverty. I mean, Snow does, too, but only because he’s forced.

 Betrayal: Recording Sejanus and Snow justifying it was hard to read. It was harder to read about the execution. And then to have the Plinths take Snow in after he returns to the Capitol is absolutely the worst. Despicable behavior.

 Poisoning Highbottom: It doesn’t surprise me, and it’s exactly what the rumors in the original books were. Snow kills his rivals to ascend.

 Snow’s role in the Games: The Hunger Games change dramatically between the 10th and the 74th. It’s clear Snow has a significant role in how and why that happens. The tributes aren’t caged and are housed in luxury. The cattle cars are replaced with a high-speed train with lots of food. The tributes get stylists and prep teams instead of being unwashed and dirty. In other words, the treatment of tributes becomes more humane, which becomes even more problematic. At least Lucy Gray knew she was being offered up as a sacrifice. No one lied to her about what she was. The implementation of these ways to fatten the lambs up for slaughter is horrific and cruel and very Snow.

 Finally, the purpose of the Hunger Games changes for Snow by the time we get to the end of the book. They are no longer just a way to punish the districts. They’re a way to exert controlled warfare instead of a messy war between the Capitol and the districts. It’s still kids being forced to kill kids. The tributes are still kids in cages. They’re still “not from here.” The Capitol kids are to be protected, but the parents in the poor areas aren’t able to take care of their own. It’s all deliberate. Collins doesn’t pull punches about the treatment of migrant children in cages or the murder of schoolchildren. What she does is point out that we don’t really mean what we say about protecting children. We’re only outraged for our own, not for those who are different. Suzanne Collins doesn’t have time for white privilege, American elitism, tyrannical government, excessive capitalism, or excuses, and her book reads that way. I loved every word of it.

[kprciffdw]

Ratchet and Kim Possible Chronicles: The Lombax Secret-Part 7

They flew through space at breakneck speed. It was a long flight, so Kim had some time to get acquainted with the ship. Kim: "So, your name is Aphelion? Well, it's a pleasure to meet you." Aphelion: "Likewise." Kim: "I have to admit that Lombax technology really is amazing. I've never been on a starship that can actually talk." Aphelion: "Well, you should know that I was built with perhaps the most advanced, fully functioning, automated Artificial Intelligence in the entire Universe. Not only can I talk, but I can think like a super computer." Kim: "Hm, I could get use to this." Ratchet: "Huh, she's already amazing." Clank: "Hm…Who? Miss Possible or the ship?" Ratchet: "Uh, the ship! Duh!" Clank: "Really? For a minute there, I would speculate that this is not what is on your mind. I am well aware that you have an equivalent fascination with both of them."

Ratchet seemed to have been startled by Clank's comment; it was almost as though he was blushing. Ratchet: "That…that's none of your concerns, Clank!"

Kim and Clank began to laugh. Ratchet pouted a little afterwards.

Just then, they received a transmission from a bizarre robot. Robot: "Ahoy, there, young scallywags. This be Cap'n Slag, scourge of the galaxy." Kim: "Uh…is that a robot pirate?" Cap'n Slag: "Surrender your vessel or be cast to the depth of the Universe."

The transmission ended. Kim: "Is he serious!? We just got this ship!" Ratchet: "Clank! Hop on the turret. Kim, take the second controls. We're going to be taking on some nasty space pirates." Kim: "Aye, aye, Ratchet."

As they flew on through space, they fought against the space pirates. It was a fierce and vicious battle. The space pirates were bombarding them relentlessly. It was indeed a long battle and the pirates didn't seem to be letting up. In fact, as the battle progressed on, the pirates were becoming more and more aggressive. But the 3 really pulled together and worked as a team against their annoying foes. They were able to win against them. After the fierce battle, they continued on their way.

They took on another long flight, but they were eventually able to reach Murow. They landed the ship and got out. However, before they could go far, they received a transmission from Captain Qwark. Qwark: "Hey, Ratchet. This is Qwark." Kim: "Oh, great. What does that idiot want this time?" Qwark: "I just want to let you guys know that I have important information for you. There's a battle arena just near where you guys are. Come meet me as soon as you arrive." Kim: "Hm…another battle arena, huh? This should be fun." Ratchet: "I was thinking the same thing, Kim." Kim: "We should head over there but right after we find where that shuttle crashed." Ratchet: "Agreed."

They continued on their way.

They rushed through the area as fast as they could. There were enemies everywhere at every step and every turn. They were faced with one tough battle after another but they were able to manage. It was not like they didn't handle anything like this before, so they knew how to get through all of them.

They were eventually able to find the shuttle. Ratchet: "This must be the spacecraft that Wade informed us about."

Clank took some time to observe it. Clank: "Hm…it appears to be a standard Earth shuttle but even more so than that, it is one of Dr. Possible's specially-made spacecrafts." Kim: "Hey, you're right. The designs of this shuttle bear my dad's signature. This IS one of his shuttles." Ratchet: "Wait a minute, didn't Wade mention to us that Ron took one of Dr. Possible's spacecrafts and was making his way to this galaxy?" Kim: "Yeah, he did. Could this mean…?"

Just then, the door to the shuttle popped off. Immediately afterwards, Ron emerged from it. Ron: "KP! RATCHET!"

Kim and Ratchet stood by, dumbfounded. Kim, Ratchet: "Ron?"

Ron ran over towards them and embraced both of them. Ron: "Oh! I'm so glad to see you guys again! I've been worried about you ever since Wade told me and the Possibles about what happened to you!" Kim: "We're fine, Ron. You don't need to worry about us."

He then pulled away from them. Ron: "Glad to hear it, KP. So, other than being chased down by some nutcases from another galaxy, how have you been? I've missed you guys." Clank: "We are doing quite well for ourselves, Ron." Ron: "Clank! Hey! How's it going, buddy? I've missed you a little more." Clank: "I am alright. Say, do you still have Rufus with you?"

At that moment, Rufus popped out of Ron's pocket. Rufus: "Ta-da!" Clank: "Oh! There you are, Rufus. How are you?"

Rufus then slumped over and groaned with exhaustion. Ron: "He seemed to have…gotten himself dinged up. He didn't seem to handle the ride here very well." Kim: "Uh…yeah, I…have just one question for you: WHAT THE FLOD WERE YOU THINKING!? You grabbed one of my dad's spacecrafts out of the blue and without coming up with any plans on how to handle…(grunt) You were completely reckless! You could have gotten yourself easily killed!" Ron: "I'm sorry, KP. It's just…when Wade told me about what happened to you, Ratchet and Clank, I felt as though I needed to reach you guys as quickly as possible. I didn't even consider everything else."

Rufus then shook his fist at Ron and babbled furiously. Kim: "Well…I…I'm just glad you're safe." Ratchet: "Come on, guys, let's…let's just get to that arena and meet up with Qwark." Ron: "Hold up for a sec. Qwark is here, too? What's been going on here? How did he end up all the way here?" Kim: "We don't know, but maybe we'll be able to find out once we meet with him." Ratchet: "Come on. We'll explain everything to Ron on the way there."

And so, they made their way to the arena now with Ron in tow. Along the way, they told him everything about what they've been going through. From what they were doing while at Metropolis all the way to their recent arrival on the planet they were currently on. Ron: "So let me see if I got this right, this Tachyon guy has been hunting you guys down because of what the Lombaxes, Ratchet's race, did to his kind? Whoa, sounds as though you guys really have been through a lot!" Ratchet: "That…would be putting it lightly, Ron." Kim: "Ratchet is currently wanted by this Empire that's under control of that evil brat and now we're running for our lives everywhere we go because of it." Ron: "Well, if you guys are on the run, than so am I. We're just a bunch of renegades, dodging the evil authorities every step of the way. This is so cool!" Ratchet: "This isn't a joke, Ron! These people are trying to kill us; specifically, they want me dead just for being a Lombax!" Ron: "Duh! I know that. I'm just saying that I might as well have some fun with this along the way; enjoy it however I can. And besides, any threats that you face, I'll face them with you, which would make this even better." Ratchet: "Yeah…good point and…thanks…for being here for me."

Ron smiled at Ratchet, he smiled back. Ron: "So, we're really heading towards this arena to meet up with Qwark?" Kim: "Yeah, he claimed to have some "important information" he wanted to share with us. But knowing Qwark, I have my doubts." Ron: "Uh, yeah, Qwark having anything important for us? Since when did that ever become plausible? This whole thing just screams major bad idea." Rufus: "Oh, major." Ratchet: "Well, he does have a point there." Ron: "And besides, Ratchet is a wanted fugitive throughout the entire galaxy! I don't think any of those Imperials would just allow him to enter the arena." Kim: "Another valid point." Ratchet: "I hate to admit that I agree with him." Clank: "There must be some way we can get Ratchet in undetected. If Qwark does have any vital intel, then we need to meet with him." Kim: "Clank's right. We should at least hear what he has for us, even though the chances of him having anything useful are very slim." Ratchet: "You're right about everything, Kim, especially that last part, but how are we going to get in without having me stick out like a sore thumb?"

Ron thought for a moment. Ron: "Hm…maybe you could wear a disguise." Ratchet: "A disguise? Really? You're kidding, right? I don't think a disguise would fool the security at the arena." Ron: "Well, it's the best thing I could come up with." Ratchet: "Heh, no surprise there." Kim: "The disguise thing could fool Qwark, but Tachyon? Not so much." Ratchet: "Yeah, I agree with her on both aspects." Ron: "But what if we can disguise him in a way to have him not look like a Lombax?" Ratchet: "Oh, and how do you suppose we do that? Have me wear a hat and some glasses?"

Ron thought about it a bit more, a smile then grew on his face.

Within very little time, Ratchet had on a pair of sunglasses and a bandana over his head. Kim: "Are you sure this will work, Ron?" Ron: "I'm positive, KP. If that Tachyon dude can't see his ears, then it's bound to be foolproof, am I right?" Ratchet: "Well…what do we have to lose? There are worse disguises out there." Kim: "(sigh) Fine…let's…let's just get this over with."

They made their way towards the arena. Along the way, Kim pondered something. Clank looked up to her, concerned. Clank: "Is there something the matter, Miss Possible?" Kim: "I feel as though…this disguise has been used before…but I can't remember where. I think it had something to do with…someone not being allowed to wear a helmet or something like that…"

Shortly afterwards, they entered the arena. As soon as they arrived, they found Qwark working as the announcer for the battle arena. Qwark: "Ladies and gentlemen."

The group was very surprised to see this. Kim: "Qwark?" Qwark: "Join me in welcoming our guest of honor. Your Cragmite Overlord and my new best friend." Ron: "Uh…did he just call Tachyon his "new best friend"?" Qwark: "Emperor Tachyon!"

Tachyon appeared on the large jumbo-tron. There was dead silence from the audience; he snapped his fingers, ordering his lackeys to ready their weapons. From that, the audience cheered as Tachyon just conceitedly relished in it. Ron: "Geez, this Tachyon guy would threaten people into giving him praises." Ratchet: "Unfortunately, the worst part doesn't even begin there." Qwark: "Let the battle begin!"

The group got on to fighting the battles. Ratchet went by the alias "Mr. Coolguy" for the arena so that Tachyon and his Imperial Forces would not be able to recognize him. They fought through one battle after another. They were very ongoing and it seemed that they went on forever. There were indeed a lot of enemies coming their way. They kept at it until they were finally able to win all of the battles.

After the battles were finished, they were approached by Qwark. Qwark: "Congratulations, fighter. You remind me of me when I was a young fighter. Your name even fits with that: Mr. Coolguy!" Kim: "Qwark, are you seriously working with the enemy again?" Qwark: "Whoa, hold on there for a sec, little missy. I'm just doing a little something that I like to call SAVING THE UNIVERSE!" Kim: "Uh-huh…and how are you doing that exactly?"

Qwark then went on to tell the group a pathetic story of how he was "fighting" the alien invaders back on Metropolis all the way up to where he was brought to Tachyon and was forced to work for him.

Qwark then managed to finish his story. Ratchet: "So, in other words, you used your powers of being a world-class suck up to save your own hide." Kim: "Yeah, that sounds a lot more accurate." Ron: "Knowing him? Absolutely." Qwark: "Yeah, yeah, make all the jokes you want. Here, take this."

He handed them over a small device. Qwark: "It should explain everything to you guys."

At that moment, Tachyon reappeared on the jumbo-tron. Tachyon: "Ingrate! Quit messing around and get over here. I have boils that require lancing." Qwark: "Coming your Excellency."

He turned around and whispered to the group. Qwark: "Pray for me."

He exited the stadium. The group stood by for a bit; they seemed a bit shocked. Kim: "Wow, I can't believe I'm about to say this, but…I actually feel sorry for Qwark." Ron: "So do I; I think I may have brain fever." Ratchet: "Come on, guys, let's get back to the ship." Ron: "Oh! You guys have a new ship?" Ratchet: "Yeah, we just got it actually." Ron: "Well, then, let's go! I would really like to see this new ship of yours!"

And so, they left the arena.

They made a brief return to where their new ship was. Within the time that they arrived, Ron took a few moments to marvel at it. Ron: "Whoa…that looks cool. Where did you guys get it?" Kim: "We found it on one of the planets that we visited." Ratchet: "It consists of old Lombax technology left behind after my people vanished."

Ratchet seemed despondent. Ratchet: "She's all that's left of them."

Both Kim and Ron seemed sad and concerned for him. They walked up to him and tended to him. He looked back at both of them and smiled. He then jumped into the ship and flipped a switch which opened up the back seats to the ship. Ron and Clank got into the back seats while Kim got into the front. Ron and Clank sat behind Kim and Ratchet respectively. Kim pulled out the device that Qwark gave them and inserted it into the console. Kim: "Now let's see what that evil twerp is up to."

On the device was a recording of a commercial. On the commercial was Tachyon advertising for recruits to enlist in his army. He also mentioned that he was looking for something known as the "Lombax Secret". The last bit mentioned that there was a moon base within the Nundac Asteroid Belt that may have something that involved the Lombax Secret. Ron: "Huh. The Nundac Asteroid Belt." Kim: "That does sound like a good place to look for clues." Clank: "Hm…could this "Lombax Secret" be the weapon used to vaporize the Cragmites?" Ratchet: "Well, whatever it is, we need to get there before Tachyon does." Kim: "Agreed. Who knows what he'll do once he reaches that moon base." Ratchet: "Let's go."

They took off and flew off the planet.

[kassies-take]

1108 AD

A/N: Mostly historically accurate. Ava and Sara are best friends, never dated and Sara is still in her old habits.

Warning: Slight NSFW

Sara Lance x LeagueofAssassins!Reader

Word Count: 1615

��Captain I have found an anachronism in the year 1108 AD. Should I plot a course?”

“Yeah, while you’re on it notify the team that we are going to time jump,” Sara said as she marched to the Captain’s chair from her office.

The Legends entered the Bridge and pulled the safety harnesses over their heads.

“Where are we going now?” Mick grumbled.

“It’s not where but when,” Sara calibrated the control panel a bit more.

“I wonder when we’re going,” Ray grinned. “World War II, Gutenberg’s Printing Press, oh maybe Pax Romana,” Ray listed.

“Did you know that Pax Romana was the period of relative peace in the Roman Empire for about two hundred years, which is shocking because the Roman Empire loved fights and bloodshed. Road, postal systems, arch, plumbing, and other cultural advances developed during this time,” Nate rambled in his area of expertise.

Sara breathed a sigh, rolled her eyes and was ready to pilot the ship through the temporal zone.

“How big is this anachronism?” Amaya ask.

“At this point I don’t even care, I’m starting to get a massive headache.” Zari complained.

“Shut up!” Mick grunted with a beer in his hand.

“It’s a level 14, you’re still getting use to time jumping, and I agree with Mick everyone shut up so I can pilot!” Sara answered respectively.

Sara pushed the pilot lever forward and was met with a golden yellow light of the time jump. She parked the Waverider just outside the city —well buildings made out of bricks, sticks and mud, roads just dirt and a couple of stones. Sara cloaked the ship, pushed the harness up and headed towards the octagon control panel. The Legends right on her tail.

“What do we have Gideon?” Sara places both her hands on each side of a panel.

“King Louis VI was kidnapped the morning of his coronation,” Gideon explained.

“Ooh fun fact King Louis VI is the Great great great great great great great great great-” Nate counted on his fingers till twenty three. “Grandfather of King Louis XVI. Sorry Gideon continue.”

“In this version of history the royal power was never centralized for instruction, King Louis XVI was never born, France never helps the United States with the Revolution,the United States remains a monarchy and France falls into anarchy.”

“Alright Jax and Stein quarterback on the ship first sign of trouble you firestorm up, Nate, Amaya and I need you to pose as a merchant setting up shop in the square, Ray I need you to shrink down and run reconnaissance while guarding Louis VI with Mick,” the Legends nodded at the captain’s orders. “Zari you’re with me in the town to run reconnaissance. Alright let’s go save the world.”

Amaya and Nate set up a bakery, Amaya mainly bake or displayed the middle age pastries Gideon fabricated as Nate set up the fabricated sign that read ‘The Muffin Man’. As Nate finished with the sign he climbed down the ladder and opened the door for you.

Amaya smiled at you as you looked around the shop. To Amaya and Nate you were just looking around, however as League training you scanned the area for escape routes as well as Amaya and Nate’s actions.

The League was more advanced with its technology as you wore your custom made League of Assassins suit, fitted with leather tunics under the long, fairly-wide green over-garment with the cotte hardie pinned by a girdle to easily hide your weapons.

“Are you two new to the business?” You spoke in French. Amaya gave you a piece of bread to try.

“Yes, we traveled from England,” Nate replied cautiously.

“Well I must know your names and let the word spread that there are new bakers in town.”

“Nathanial and Marie Antoinette,” Nate introduced. 

“How funny, the real Marie Antoinette loved cakes while the fake baked cakes.” Jax laughed on coms

“You have a beautiful name Marie Antoinette,” you smiled and ogled at Amaya’s body without the two noticing. “My name is Shamara Zurisada.”

You passed a few small silver pennies over to Amaya who gladly accepted them with a smile.

“What a nice lady,” Nate said once you were out of sight.

A short static buzzed in their coms before Sara spoke up.

“Anything with you guys, Nate?” Sara asked.

“Nope, but we had our first customer Shamara Zurisada,” Sara froze in realization. “Hello? Captain? Earth to Sara?”

“Nate, I need you to follow her. We just found our white whale and the reason Louis VI went missing before his coronation, he gets killed by the League of Assassins,” Sara filled in the whole team.

“You want me to follow an assassin?” Nate asked doubtfully.

You walked into the crowded square knowing full well who the Legends were. One important thing Sara didn’t tell the Legends was that Shamara Zurisada, you, were important to League history.

“According to the Shadow Records, Shamara Zurisada was an assassin that strengthened the League, in which the Demon Head even feared. Though a part of the League she was allowed to do whatever she wanted, due to her said power being able to see through out all of history. She supposedly disappeared without a trace and reappeared throughout the League history as an immortal warrior,”  Stein explained as Nate turned the other way as he lost courage to continue walking.

“Wow the Shadow Records say all that.” Zari rolled her eyes at Ray’s bubbly comment.

“The Shadow Records are names of assassins and when they joined,” Sara retorted.

“My mistake I was reading off the League’s history. However the Shadow Record does not say when Shamara Zurisada joined the League, only that she joined.”

Sara caught a glimpse of your black robes, what she didn’t expect was to find you staring back at her with a smirk. A couple of French men and women blocked the path between you and Sara and that was when you climbed up the stone steps above the square’s walls.

You watched as the city was filled with laughter and music all ready for the new King. The crunch of gravel came from behind you, without turning you spoke.

“Ta-er Al-Sahfer,” No one dared to speak afterwards.

You threw a dagger towards Sara. While she was distracted by the weapon you executed a double roundhouse to her chest. Sara ran out of room to dodge as the walls came closer to her. She continued retreat; you continued to advance.

Sara didn’t know how it happened but a sharp gasp escaped her lips. The stones and sticks dug into her back in random places. You pulled Sara to her feet, almost tearing her collar off the middle age dress. She heard the slight rasps of material ripping before her back slammed against the wall.

You pinned Sara against the door by her wrist a smirk written on your face.

“Why do you want to kill the King?” Sara panted.

“It got boring and I went looking for trouble, well looking for you.” You whispered the latter half in her ear.

Sara’s infamous smirk appeared as you pushed against the door to open it. You and Sara immediately locked lips as Sara kicked the door closed. Sara bit your lower lip and allowed herself to slip her tongue in your mouth. With the slight advantage Sara pushed you onto the bed. Sara pinned you down by straddling your waist and held your wrists above your head. Her head flew towards the sweet spot on your neck and you threw your head back to let out a moan.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“To a successful mission!” Ray cheered as the Legends entered the Bridge from the Cargo Bay.

“Do we really need a new member of the team?” Zari grumbled.

“You’re on the ship to help Amaya with her totem problem and Shamara Zurisada is on the ship to help with mine,” Sara explained.

“(Y/N),” you crossed your arms and leaned against the Bridge entrance.

“What problem?” Amaya asked with concern.

“N-nothing,” Sara stuttered.

“Her sexual frustration problem,” you pushed off the wall.

“Ha! A fuck buddy!” Mick took a sip of his beer.

The Legends froze and stared at Sara who had flushed cheeks.

“Well regardless, Welcome to the team,” Ray beamed and tried to hug you.

He landed on the floor with a thud and a groan. You maintained a straight face and crossed your arms.

“I like her,” Mick pointed to you and sipped his beer once again.

“Just keep your room soundproof Captain,” Nate shot it finger gun, clicked his tongue and headed towards the library.

“I am so moving to the room at the other end of the hall,” Jax shook his head.

“Remarkable, by taking (Y/N) onto the Waverider she lives the myth of the immortal warrior. Truly astonishing!” Stein followed Jax to clear his room.

The Legends slowly left the Bridge with you and Sara the last two standing.

“You’re welcome to show me around or we could just head straight to your room,” you whispered in Sara’s ear

“Actually I was thinking about round two,” Sara was met with your smirked grin. “I was thinking more of sparring!” Sara rolled her eyes. “Besides we should wait till Gideon, our artificial intelligence, robot....” Sara tried to explain.

“I know what an A.I is Lance. I can see around time remember.”

“Right. As I was saying we should wait for the room to be soundproof first, you’re really load.”

You raised your eyebrows, dropped your crossed arms and placed them on your hips. “Is that a challenge, Ta-er Al-Sahfer?”

Sara shrugged her shoulders, “We will have to see.”  

[araminakilla]

Ducktales theory: Modern Arabian Night(mare)s

Warning: Long theory, has a little of angst too.

So, you already know I love the Treasure of the Lost Lamp characters, and with Found Lamp! things got better. Today's theory is about D'jinn (I'm not sorry) and a concept that was introduced in this new Ducktales' season 2. What is that concept? Stay tuned.

This Christmas I was watching an original Netflix movie with the name of "Knight before Christmas" The plot is simple: An european knight from the XIV century meets a witch in the forest. Said witch brings him to the present in 2019, days before our Christmas. He has to complete a quest before the Holidays or he can't return home, that is, his time period.

While there is more to tell, I wanted to point this because the knight spoke in a manner that made me think in D'jinn. That's when I realized: That's how medieval knights spoke! (yeah, I think you knew this by this point, I'm slow in some things, it happens)

Not only that, but said knight tried to solve conflicts with his sword and is very loyal with people he just met but have good intentions. Also, he was talking about his quest during the movie, just like D'jinn in the Found Lamp! episode.

There was a post about the movie where the person said that the knight was handsome, among other things, but also very stupid. Then I found this comment:

Why am I telling you all of this? Well, here comes the theory part. I thought in two possibilities of why D'jinn acts like a medieval knight.

1) He's a fan of stories with ancient arabian medieval knights and is imitating them (a dramatic theater boy)

2) He IS an ancient arabian medieval knight stuck in the present.

But how? Well, I think it has to be with this lamp: (pictures belong to @scroogeislife)

The lamp of Eternity. It has to do with time, so that could mean something. At first I thought of Merlock given that he's inmortal, and maybe that could be Gene the Genie's new lamp design, but who knows?

Also a fun fact: Faris means "knight" in Arabic so if D'jinn is really a knight that would make him "Al-Faris Faris D'jinn" which would translate to "The knight Faris D'jinn" or is The knight Knight Genie?? Anyway...

The point is, Faris was doing what arabian knights did with the company of other knights from his hometown. I theorize that he was in a war against some new invaders that wanted to conquer his homeland and destroy his family for the lamp. I would say they were either the Knight Templars or the Ottomans, let's go with the Ottomans since it was established he hates them in the series. The time period would be the early/mid XIV century (I don't really know much about arabian history in those times, so lets continue)

Be a lamp, a wizard or some strange magic, our Faris ended up in the XXI century, 700 years in the future.

To make things better (for us) he ends up in a modern arabian City with many modern malls, very advanced technology and beautiful skyscrapers (because yes, there are still people who believe those things don't exist in the Middle East)

He naturaly freaks up and demands to know what happens and for "demands" that means raising his sword, pointing it at everyone who is making eye contact with him and screaming: What kind of sorcery is this!?

The people around him also freak out, culminating in D'jinn being taken to the police, who proceeds to take pictures of him, hence those pictures in Lunaris' secret war room and why there are two of them when everyone has only one.

They began to make questions like: Who are you? Where did you come from? What are your intentions?

And D'jinn is like: I am Faris D'jinn! Loyal knight of (Insert name of a sultan here) who along with other magnificent people has the sacred duty of stop the Ottomans so they can not expand and become a powerful Empire!

And the police is like: Do you know the Ottoman Empire ended almost a century ago right?

Which is why Faris asks: They became an Empire!? How!? When!? What year is this!?

The Officers explain that the Ottomans ruled the Middle East for centuries and by the time of World War One they started to fall and now their descendants are the Turks. Oh, and also that this is the XXI century.

And then Faris D'jinn.exe has stopped working.

The officers were worried about this guy's mental health and told him they were going to call a doctor to see if he can help him and that he has to wait in a room.

But D'jinn had other things in mind. What happened seven centuries ago after he disappeared? What happened to his people, his companions in war, his family? Where are they now? He wants to know all those answers. He wants to know everything NOW.

So, like the good warrior he is, he escapes and begins to seach for the D'jinn family.

Unfortunately, they seem to have disappeared. There's no sign of his family or descendants with his last name. He begins to fear for the worst. He sometimes thinks the Ottomans wiped them out of existence, but other times he believes they are fine and it's only matter of seaching more, hence why Faris told Huey that the Ottomans failed miserably at trying to destroy his family (and suddenly another funny moment becomes an angsty one)

Gif belongs to @drummergirl231-2

We believed Della had it rough? Well yes that's very true but what about being the only survivor of your family? That must hurt a lot, specialy for someone very family-oriented and who consider bloodline and legacy to be very important.

He actually goes through the 5 stages of grief, the Anger and Depression stages being the most prominent ones.

He refuses to have any contact or friendship with other people, as he can't understand them and he feels they will never understand him.

It's only when he gets to the Acceptance stage that he begins to talk to others and is interested in modern technology, music, etc.

D'jinn even records everything new he learns in different scrolls just in case he has the posibility of return to his time period.

The people (mostly millenials) around him find his way of thinking and speaking funny and they call him a loony when he tries to convince them he is an actual knight from the past.

That's where we return to the "Knight before Christmas" post. D'jinn is not dumb, he's from another time period. He's adapting, with hilarous consequences.

After hundreds of failed intents to revelal his true identity, Faris gives up and adopts a "sure, I'm a dramatic man who loves knights, whatever" attitude, which makes him feel more lonely than what already was before.

Years pass and he knows how to use a cellphone properly, how to ride a motorcycle, among other things. But he still has the hope to return to his true home and see his family again.

In the future (our present), his quest for the lamp of the first Genie continues as it still is one of the (if not the only) relics his family has.

Then he meets the Duck family and the rest is history...

After the lamp adventure, he meets the Living Mummies and bonds with them as they were in a similar situation, being from "other times" and adapting to the present.

If he gets to meet Gene and have the lamp in his hands, he would try to make a wish to return to his original time period. But there are problems:

1) He is starting to like his new present and will miss all of his new allies (the Ducks and the Mummies)

2) He knows to much. OF COURSE he's going to tell everyone about what happens in the future which could end in him becoming the arab equivalent of Nostradamus at best, or everyone thinking he is crazy at worst.

3) He and his family have a code that if someone found a thing with a Genie in it and if the genie is good, they would free it with their first wish. This code is as strong as the Mandalorian's code of not removing his helmet (This is the way) so Faris will be torn about betraying the family code only to return to them or staying in the future and never see his family and friends again.

The only solution would be asking the Ducks to make a wish so he can return but knowing Scrooge, Della and Donald, they would consider that very dangerous because again, he knows to much, he could change dramatically the events of history.

Gif belongs to @nerdalmighty

And things could get worse if Merlock/F.O.W.L. get to know about the time traveler knight.

But that is another story.

[frasier-crane-style]

A few scattered thoughts

Just thinking about the EU. Y’know how it is.

-As I’ve said, I never thought TPB got a handle on Kylo Ren as a character beyond the shock premise of “Han and Leia’s kid is a Sith Lord.” It never really makes sense why he would be that way, to the point where his motivations seem to drastically change from scene to scene--he breaks his helmet, he puts his helmet back together, yeesh. 

So here’s my idea. Han and Leia have Ben Solo and... he’s a squib. No Force talent whatsoever. And because of that, he feels like the unfavorite in comparison to Luke’s apprentices, other siblings, etc. 

Now, in the Dark Forces games, there’s a thing called the Valley of the Jedi which is a Jedi burial ground that can be used by bad guys to create Force users. I’d like to make it clear this isn’t a Jedi factory--using the Force in this way is a crime against the natural order and it results in a good bit of body horror. You can make yourself Force-sensitive, but at a horrible price. Something like...

Yeah. But Ben is still tempted into it by Snoke or whoever, and he creates the Knights of Ren. Sort of a Zerg rush of the Dark Side, or literal Sithtroopers. They may be harmless in small numbers, but if you have ten or twenty Dark Jedi coming at you, even Luke Skywalker is going to be in trouble. They’d be kinda like those guards Snoke had, except there’d be a point to them besides “hey, we need a lightsaber battle in this!”

I just feel it would make Kylo Ren a bit sympathetic and relevant. We can all understand the impulse of wanting to be something we’re not and it would give a potential redemption arc a bit of a kick--trying to be a Dark Lord of the Sith is literally hurting him, he has to give up and disavow these powers if he wants to be healthy and whole. You could see it as tying in the whole chad/incel thing. Only a few millimeters of Midicholorians yadda yadda.

-Speaking of the EU, I know the Thrawn Trilogy is a bit unwieldy in that it’s the continuing adventures of Luke, Han, and Leia, not passing the torch to a new generation, but there have been pragmatic adaptations before. I imagine you could do something with all of the Trio having someone as a protege. Han could pick up Rey as this scraper goblin sidekick who he teaches his smuggler tricks to. Leia could have Poe as almost this X-wing pilot knight she sends off on ‘quests.’ Luke could take Finn on as his apprentice. Or, since the Trio is way old, we could introduce Jaina, Jacen, and Anakin as at least minor characters. And, as the trilogy goes on, the older characters recede into the background, while the newbies meet up and form their own bonds. Or imagine watching the first in this new trilogy and thinking this Ben Solo guy is going to be Han’s successor, only for him to give into Joruss C’Boath and turn into a Dark Jedi. 

-Also, Joruss C’Boath is hard to spell, but imagine the same basic character replaced with a clone of Obi-Wan. I know that’s the direction Zahn wanted to go in originally, and it would work even better now because you could just use Ewan McGregor. He could say he was Obi-Wan’s son or grandson, play headgames with Luke, it’s be wild.

-I imagine the cloning subplot could have an added relevance after the prequels. Instead of the Black Fleet or whatever, we could have Thrawn trying to get his hands on cloning facilities--say the Kaminoans have gone into exile after the Clone Wars specifically so this wouldn’t happen, and advances in cloning technology have made it so clones can be fully grown in months instead of years. We’d instantly get how Clonetroopers would be a gamechanger and it’d explain how the Imperial Remnant/First Order went from being small-time terrorists to a galaxy-threatening force. They can clone literal armies enough to project power almost infinitely.

Also, as long as we’re being all shades of grey, imagine the clones as an oppressed minority in Star Wars. They were done dirty by the Republic and the Jedi. It’d be interesting to have them as something of a replacement for the Noghri, coming at Luke and co. in resentment for what was done to them. Maybe ending up ‘going into business for themselves’ as a threat to both the New Republic and the Empire. 

You could still have Finn as a former Stormtrooper--say Thrawn created new cloning lines from his best soldiers instead of Jango Fett. We could have a confrontation between Finn and his aged ‘original.’ And the whole thing of Finn being a Force-sensitive Stormtrooper who rebels against his programming because he can feel the natural order of the universe? It would work even better. If the Force isn’t Midicholorians, if you can’t just clone it, then it stands to reason that you can’t guarantee it won’t pick one of a million identical clones to be Force-sensitive. 

Also, this seems a bit obvious, but say we either start the ‘Sequel Trilogy’ with an age-appropriate Mara Jade married to Luke, or have them meet here. You could do a ‘Star Wars Story’ of a younger Mara Jade post-RotJ working with Talon Karrde and his gang. Firefly in the Star Wars universe with a hot redhead in the lead. It writes itself, people!

[emperorsfoot]

New chapter of my shamefully self-indulgent Entrapdak Arranged Marriage AU. 

This chapter features Imp’s adorable antics, a broken ceiling, Hordak and Entrapta meet for the first time, and Catra is very frustrated. 

...

“Entrapta! Entrapta! Grr!” Catra threw her arms up in exasperation, fur of her tail frizzing out, fangs barred with a snarl to vent her frustration.

Their ship had already started its descent to the planet’s surface and Entrapta wasn’t even dressed.

That wasn’t accurate.

Entrapta was dressed. As a mechanic. A menial worker.

Not the sovereign ruler of an industrial titan like Dryl that she was.

She could not meet her future spouse –never mind that- she could not meet the Emperor of the Known Universe and his brother, looking like the person they had their servants call to service the palace ventilation systems.

The ship gave a violent lurch as they hit a pocket of turbulence in Horde World’s atmosphere and Catra was thrown off balance. She landed on her feet –she always landed on her feet- but the trunk containing Entrapta’s wardrobe was thrown across the cabin, spilling the Princess’ gowns all over. Catra heaved another snarl. She longed for a simpler life, a war-orphan, or an underappreciated soldier. Anything had to be better than a lady-in-waiting to a tech Princess who thought measuring the pH balance of the atmosphere and how it affected the ship’s hull was more important that making sure she was ready to meet the Emperor of the Known Universe, or her future spouse.

“Hey, don’t worry so much.” Scorpia, another Princess and Entrapta’s friend, bent down to help Catra pick up the strewn clothing. “Entrapta’s a little quirky, but she agreed to do this because she knows it’s important. She’ll be ready in time.”

Catra sighed. In defeat, not relief. Scorpia was nice, but she did not seem to grasp the importance of first impressions. Entrapta was actually really amazing –once a person got to know her- but she made a terrible first impression.

Then it was Scorpia’s turn to sigh. Clasping her pincers together –still holding one of Entrapta’s dresses- and staring out through one of the view ports at the dusty and barren landscape of Horde World. “Isn’t it romantic.” She gushed. “Two people, crossing the stars to meet. Strangers coming together for the good of a nation. At first, just for duty. But then! A tender glance! A gentle touch! Gazes locking… and sparks fly… It’s true love!”

Catra just stared at her. Dead-eyed. Unimpressed and unmoved.

“It could happen!” Scorpia insisted.

“It’ll never happen if we can’t get Entrapta ready by the time ship lan-“ Catra was cut off as the ship gave another lurch as the pilot decelerated for their final approach to the Imperial landing site. Catra only hissed, showing more teeth.

“I’ll help with Entrapta.” Scorpia nodded, realizing maybe Catra’s concerns were more legitimate and pressing than she originally thought.

But the moment the ship did actually landed, Entrapta disappeared to explore the alien palace that was the heart of the Horde Empire and Catra had no idea where she went.

…

Hec-Tor bared his teeth at the scale, displeased by the result. He managed to go a full year and a day without any weight loss from his condition and in the span of only twenty-four hours had somehow managed to lose two-hundred grams of body mass.

He stepped off the scale, waited for the number to clear, then tried again. Double checking the result. When the number showed the same. He triple checked. When all three attempts yielded the same result, he was forced to record the data in his health tracker app. He was losing weight again.

That hadn’t happened since Keldor disappeared. Hec-Tor twisted the ring he still wore on the third finger of his left hand. Keldor’s ring. In another few days, he would have to take it off and replace it with a different ring. Entrapta’s ring. Slipping the band off his finger, he looked at the inscription. ‘By the Power…’ Keldor never really explained what it meant beyond ‘it’s just an Eternian thing’. Slipping the ring back on his finger, Hec-Tor stealed himself to face the day.

Today was going to be a bad day.

His intended’s ship landed some time in the early hours of the morning. Hec-Tor was glad he was not made to greet her first thing upon her arrival. He would not have been in the best of sorts to make an acceptable first impression. He was rather confident that he would not make any kind of good first impression at all. But then, he thought the same thing before his marriage to Keldor and in the end, first impressions turned out not to matter all that much.

Hec-Tor was younger back then. He was sullen and quiet and had adhered to protocol as best as one could while also looking at their feet and not making eye-contact. While Keldor was unlike anyone Hec-Tor had ever met up to that point. Instead of reciprocating the ceremonial bow with one of his own, the Eternian Prince had laughed –just a short, half stifled laugh behind his hand, but still a laugh- and asked Hec-Tor if he did more than posture and pose. Horde Prime frowned in displeasure, and Keldor’s father, King Miro, gave his son a strongly worded reprimand. But it succeeded in reminding Hec-Tor that the marriage had been arranged for Keldor just as much as it had been for him. They were both of them being forced into this and that was one thing they had in common.

Remembering that, Hec-Tor reminded himself that this was arranged for his current intended just as much as it was for him. While a small platoon of servants combed and gelled his hair, dabbed at his cheeks with foundation and concealer, lined his eyes with kohl, painted gloss on his lips, fitted decorative plugs in his ports, and just generally groomed him to look his best, Hec-Tor read over the dossier on his intended.

Princess Entrapta. While she kept the title of ‘Princess’ in reality, she was the Queen of her territory. She was the sovereign and sole ruler of Dryl, which was not its own planet, but a small mountain nation located on Etheria.

Hec-Tor paused at that. Recognizing the name. Etheria was a planet that shared a solar system with Eternia –Keldor’s home planet. Entrapta and Keldor were practically neighbors! However, unlike Eternia, which was unified under one monarch, Etheria was a confederacy of multiple independent states.

Dryl was small in terms of land coverage. But it was an industrial titan that specialized in weapons manufacture. Weapons that combined highly advanced technology with complicated magic. Weapons that could be powered by their wielder’s ‘fighting spirit’ rather than limited battery packs that needed to be recharged. Armors and shieldings that were just as resilient and strong as phitanium, but easier to shape, more efficient to manufacture, and –best of all- cheaper since they wouldn’t have to pay Queen Elmora’s premiums. Heck! Dryl even made bots that could be sent into battle in place of living soldiers.

That explained why Horde Prime wanted her in the family.

With Entrapta married to the Emperor’s own brother, her loyalty would be to the Empire –which her children might have a chance to inherit one day. That would ensure that Dryl would not be selling their weapons to the Empire’s enemies.

Scrolling through the file, Hec-Tor realized that the vast majority of the information was on Dryl and its arms industry. There was very little information on Princess Entrapta herself. Hell! The file didn’t even include a picture of her.

Hec-Tor sighed. Of course, the file wouldn’t contain much information on her. Horde Prime did not arrange this marriage to make his brother happy. He didn’t care about Princess Entrapta the person. All Horde Prime cared about were the weapons and power she could bring to the Empire. Who cared if Hec-Tor was miserable for the rest of his life? Not every arranged marriage could be as lucky as his first one to Keldor. Not everyone could fall in love with their intended.

His chair was turned around and Hec-Tor examined his reflection. They did everything but put contacts in his eyes to give him pupils. He sighed. This was far more opulent than his brother made him dress up for his first engagement. Horde Prime must really, really want those weapons.

With a sigh, Hec-Tor stood from the seat. He needed a break from all the primping and preening. Maybe get some real work done. There were a few items from yesterday that he never managed to get around to. At the time he thought there would be time to deal with them today. That was before his brother took the liberty of changing his entire agenda for the rest of the week –and his life. At the very least, he needed to address the blight on Antares. Horde Prime probably wouldn’t let him dispatch soldiers to either Krytis or Denebria until after the wedding, the Emperor would want to keep the military close until then.

But if he could just get to his office and do something productive.

Anything productive.

Even if it was just hitting ‘read’ on a non-critical memo.

He stalked down the corridors of the residential wing to his office, wearing nothing more than a dressing gown, with a head full of so much product he looked sculpted out of paste.

A door to his left burst open and Imp dashed out, in a similar state of half-dressed but very well make-uped. He saw his father standing in the corridor and skirted around to hide behind the older man’s legs. Just in time for a trio of servants to follow –tripping- out of the same room after the little… imp.

Imp hissed at them.

Only one seemed brave enough to approach, addressing Hec-Tor. “Your Highness, we are trying to make the Prince ready to meet your intended and he is not cooperating. Could you… speak to him, please?”

Hec-Tor looked down at the child clinging to his calves. Imp glared up at him. He did not like playing dress-up any more than Hec-Tor did.

“If I have to suffer through this, so do you.” He informed his son.

The boy gave a screech of disagreement, abandoned his father as an ally, and climbed up a wall instead. Imp shot his father a scathing look of betrayal before wiping half the makeup and cream from his face and smearing it on the expensive wallpaper. Then he disappeared into an air vent.

“Imp!” Hec-Tor shouted after him. Forget ‘feral’ that child could be outright wild sometimes. He got it from Keldor. He was also always a little wild.

Forget doing something productive. Now all Hec-Tor cared about was finding his son in the complicated and labyrinthine ventilation systems of the Imperial palace.

He turned suddenly anxious eyes and misplaced anger on the trio that had been grooming Imp or the introductions. “Find him!”

They ran to comply.

Hec-Tor headed in the opposite direction, long ears piqued. Listening for any movement in the walls that could indicate his errant son. Imp was spry and fast. Of all the members of the Kur family that Hec-Tor had known –both living and dead- Imp was by far the most healthy. His physical defects were extra limbs in the form of wings –that actually functioned!- and a pointed tail. He was also a little under sized for his age, but that just made it easier for him to pull stunts like this!

But the worst part was that Hec-Tor knew, if Keldor were here, he would be egging their child on. Encouraging Imp to make trouble and be an agent of chaos. Keldor would think it was funny. Keldor would be proud.

Damn. Hec-Tor made himself sad.

Before their wedding, during a heavily chaperoned stroll through the grounds of the castle in Eternos, Keldor not only convinced Hec-Tor to ditch their escorts and sneak out, but actually succeeded in doing it! Climbing up a tree close to the castle wall and pushing Hec-Tor over it before the Imperial Prince even knew what was happening. Keldor then took Hec-Tor on a tour of the back-allies of Eternos, a side of the city he was sure no Prince was meant to see.

Imp definitely got this rebelliousness from his other father. It certainly didn’t come from Hec-Tor!

He came to an intersection in the corridors and froze, closing his eyes, listening hard for any scuffling or scurrying sounds that could be Imp trying to evade him. Just barely picking up a faint sound, Hec-Tor made a turn a followed the sound out of the private residential wing and into the business section. If anyone dared give him an odd look for stalking the halls in what was essentially a bathrobe, he snarled at them.

The moment Hec-Tor found an access panel large enough for him, Imp was going to be in so much trouble!

A louder scuffling in the walls.

Imp must be closer!

Hec-Tor leaned against the wall. His ear just a hair’s breadth away from touching the wall –he was still mindful of all the cosmetic work he’d sat through already and did not want to sit through it again.

He followed the scuffling sound. Listening to the metal of the vents shift with the weight of a body. Funny, Imp was never heavy enough to make the vent paneling shift and bow before. But then, Imp was a growing boy.

He followed the movement in the walls he was almost in the public areas of the palace now. A place he did not want to be walking around in a bathrobe and little else. But he wanted to find his son more.

Then he heard Imp give a startled and confused little chirp. And his journey moving in the walls came to a halt. Now the scuffling in the wall was located in only one spot and it was fast and frantic.

“Imp?” Hec-Tor called, hoping the boy could hear him through the drywall and vent plating. “Are you stuck?”

Imp couldn’t answer, of course. While he might be the most physically healthy member of the Kur family, he was also born mute. His vocal cords not forming right during gestation in the vitrine. The only sounds he could make were guttural chirps and squawks. With a wall between them cutting off any visual communication, there was no way for Imp to make his situation and his needs known. Hec-Tor just had to guess and hope he took the appropriate action.

He grabbed the first person he saw, not caring if they were palace staff, or a visiting dignitary (or extended staff) there for his wedding. “You! Get me the head of palace maintenance! Immediately!”

Not sure what else to do, it was all the hapless passerby could do to nod an affirmative and run away the moment Hec-Tor let go of them.

Another squak of dismay drifted through the wall and Hec-Tor once again pressed his ear to the wall. This time he did smear his makeup, but he didn’t care. Some things were more important. “Imp? What is going on in there? Are you injured?”

The only answer he got was a string of confused chittering and trills.

“Imp!?”

People were casting uncertain glances at him now. What if mental instability was another of the Prince’s defects? He was literally yelling at a wall.

“Oh. Well, hello little guy?” Then another voice drifted through the wall. One Hec-Tor had never heard before. Pitchy and nasal.

Was this the head of maintenance come to extricate Imp from the wall for him? It had better be! He did not like the idea of a complete stranger being in a dark enclosed space along with his son whom could not communicate in words.

“Who’s in there?” He demanded.

“Is that your friend out there?” Asked the voice. “Are you stuck?”

Hec-Tor dragged his talons down the decorative wallpaper. He wanted to see what was going on in there. Who was in there with Imp? What were they doing?

“Hang on.” Said the other in the wall. “The thing with old castles and palaces like this is that all the ventilation was built in a closed system so that it’s harder to get inside for regular maintenance and service. See how the plating it warped here? Probably happened over the last hundred years by particles that made it past the first battery of filters. I heard the winds on Horde World can carry rocks as big as a fist a hundred kilometers in the air. I know something that big shouldn’t be able to make it through filters, but when the wind can throw it that high, they can also throw it clean through carbon fiber mesh. Something like that bouncing around these vents, no wonder you got your tail stuck in a warped section.”

Was- was the speaker giving Imp –a five year old child- a lecture on engineering? While they were both stuck in a wall!? Who was this person?

“Almost got ya… there!” There was a metallic popping sound.

Then Imp gave a grateful and relieved little trill.

Hec-Tor sighed. His son was okay. Still in the vents. But unharmed.

“I think I saw an outlet over there.” Presumably, the owner of the voice was pointing, but Hec-Tor could not see it. “C’mon. I’ll show you and make sure you don’t get stuck again.”

The shuffling and scuffling began again. This time moving up. To the ceiling. Hec-Tor looked up, trying to follow the sounds with his eyes.

Then a crack appeared on the ceiling.

Oh! Oh, no! No, no, no! Didn’t the voice in the wall just say this palace was old! If they were a fully grown adult being, they should not be putting their full weight on the ceiling panels. They were meant to be decorative and cover the unsightly support beams and insulation. They were not meant to hold weight!

“Oh.” Apparently, the voice realized this too late. “I might have miscalculated the addition of your weight.”

That was the last thing they said before the whole ceiling came caving down.

A cascade of broken panels and insulation that should have been replaced decades ago came crashing down in the center of the room. Among the debris, a ball of lavender hair came tumbling out. It rolled a few meters away from the main pile.

The hair slithered. Disentangling itself frown around the body of an alien female. Copper skin and fuchsia-red eyes. Wearing dark purple overalls like a menial worker. Maybe she was the head of maintenance. And held in her gloved arms was Imp. He was fine. Cradled and shielded from the debris by her body and hair.

“Well, you’re out.” She announced. Then glanced back at the mess in the middle of the room. “Though, I have a feeling I might be in trouble…”

“Give me my son!” Hec-Tor all but snarled at her.

“Oh. Sure.” She opened her arms and Imp fluttered his wings, flying into his father’s waiting arms. Then the woman paused, as if actually noticing him. “Why are you wearing a bath robe? Oh! Did I drop in on a bathroom!? I’m so sorry! I just wanted to observe the adaptations your architects have made to compensate for the harshness of Horde World. This building is an engineering marvel and I find it fascinating!”

“Who are you?” Demanded the Prince.

“Oh. Uh,” she twiddled her hair.

Under any other circumstances he would have found the fact that her hair moved like limbs quite interesting. But at the moment, he was unimpressed.

“This is a little awkward.” She confessed. “You see, I’m not actually from Horde World. I just came for the wedding. Oh! Maybe I’ll see you there. I should say ‘hi’ at the reception!”

That did not answer his question.

But then, another voice shouted across the room.

“Entrapta!”

A magicat and a scorpioness came running up to here.

Entrapta? Did they just call her ‘Entrapta’? As in Princess Entrapta? His intended. The person he was arranged to marry. This dirt-covered, vent-lurking, inelegant, creature could not possibly be the one his brother meant for him to marry!

“We are so, so sorry!” Said the scorpioness. She lifted ‘Princess Entrapta’ up into her arms.

“Where have you been!” Snarled the magicat. “Not only are we behind schedule, you’re an absolute mess! You can’t meet a Prince of the Horde Empire looking like this!”

Hec-Tor just stood there, staring at them. Did none of them know who he was?

“Let’s get you cleaned up.” The scorpioness said in a much gentler tone. “Maybe the Prince won’t mind. Maybe he likes quirky partners.”

He most certainly did not!

Well, okay. Keldor was pretty quirky. And Hec-Tor loved him. A lot. But Keldor was special! Just going off this first impression, Hec-Tor was not going to like this purple, prehensile haired, vent germline one bit!

This marriage was going to be a disaster.

[angels17324]

The Violet Paladin (Keith x Reader) Ch. 2

Word count: 1963 Update schedule: Every Monday [Masterlist] [Ch. 1]

We made it to the other side unharmed, there was a planet near us, but not much else, and the other ship didn't follow us.

"The lion seems to want to go to this planet. I think it's going home," Lance tried to explain as we flew into the planet's atmosphere. We all huddled closer to Lance... Mostly for the stability of the chair.

"Is it just me or is anyone else having second thoughts about flying through an unknown wormhole?" Hunk asked.

"It got us away from the alien warship didn't it?" Lance questioned back. "I don't know if you've noticed but we're in an alien warship!" Keith retorted "What you scared?" Lance smirked.

"With you at the helm? Terrified," Keith glared.

"Cadets!" Shiro warned in a commanding voice. "If we're going to get through this we're gonna have to work together," He told us.

"There's a castle over there," I pointed out. We flew closer until we landed. "The lion would tell us if the air was unbreathable right?" I questioned before following the others. 

"Only one way to know, but let's be careful still," Pidge said. We walked out and onto the ground, the lion suddenly roared loudly... very loudly... Jeez, I thought I listened to music too loud. However, it seemed to have opened a door for us, we walked in.

"Hello!" Hunk shouted.

"I thought the steps would have been bigger based on the size of the lion," Pidge analyzed.

"Well someone had to have built the lion and the castle so they wouldn't be much bigger than us if they're still around that is," I responded. Looking around it looked abandoned. That is until a light scanned us. Shiro tried questioning the light before a path lit up for us.

"Hello?" Hunk kept calling out as we walked through the hall. We reached a large room with a podium in the middle. Two pods soon rose from the floor, I looked at them amazed. The first pod opened to reveal a girl who looked not much older than me.

"Father," She cried out as she almost fell, Lance, catching her. "Who are you? Where am I?" She questioned.

"I'm Lance, and you're right here in my arms." He tried flirting.

"Your ears, they're hideous what's wrong with them?" She asked I cupped my ears feeling slightly offended. Before she grabbed Lance and pulled his arm behind his back and pinched his ear. After Lance explained how the blue lion brought us, she had more questions than answers, but we found out her name was Princess Allura. She went to the control panel when the other guy emerged, and immediately attacked Lance, I almost felt bad for him, but it was kinda funny to watch them explain a battle that never happened.

"It can't be, we've been asleep for ten thousand years!" Allura shouted. Allura told us about Zarkon, which Shiro informed us that he was still alive for over ten thousand years and that he was looking for Voltron.

I looked around at the technology they have, for being over 10,000 years old it looks thousands of more years beyond the current speck of our tech back home. A flashing red alert brought me back, and I looked to see another one of those ships we had just escaped.

"Let them come, by the time they get here you six will have reformed Voltron, and destroy his empire!"

"Princess there are six of these lions, how will we find the other five?" Shiro asked Allura lead us to another room where a platform lit up, and then a star map appeared around us.

"The black lion looks like it's in the same location as the blue," Allura told us how the black lion is in the castle. Then she went on to explain the Lions mirroring their paladin's quintessences... still, don't understand what that is, but I am curious to know which one fits me.

"The black lion is the decisive head of Voltron, and takes someone who's men will follow his command," No real surprise there that the black lion is Shiro's "The violet lion is a creative one ever changing, its pilot must be adaptable and creative. As the heart of Voltron always between the mind and body and balancing everyone out," She smiled at me.

"The green lion has an inquisitive personality, and need's a pilot of intellect and daring," The green lion is Pidge.

"The blue lion-" Lance interrupted her.

"Let me guess, best/ most handsome pilot of the bunch,"

"The yellow lion is kind and caring, its pilot puts the needs of others above his own," Hunk is now the yellow lion.

"The red lion is temperamental and the most difficult to master, the pilot needs to rely more on instinct than skill alone," Keith is the red lion.

"Wait, this guy?" Lance asked.

"However I, unfortunately, can’t find the red lion at the moment, the castle might need some tune up after 10,000 years," She explained.

"Alright team, we don't have much time," Shiro said. "Pidge and I will take a pod and go for the green lion, Lance and Hunk take the blue lion and go find the yellow lion, Keith and (Y/n) go for the purple lion as fast as possible, and if you find the coordinates for the red lion go get that one as well," Shiro explained.

"I'll load pods with the coordinates, and send them to the blue lion" Coran left with us following shortly after. "Now make quick work of your missions we can only keep the wormhole open for about two of your earth hours,"

"Wait, what!" we all called out moments too late as we'd already flown through the wormhole. I sighed a bit not knowing much other than Coran said it was a peaceful planet. Keith piloted the pod towards the planet.

"You pilot way better than Lance," I said trying to make small talk, no response, "Not much of a talker?" I tried again, still no response... "You know this will be a really boring trip if you don't at least try to talk." I tried a third time, still no response so I just gave up until we landed.

"Let's hurry," He finally said hoping out shortly followed by me. I walked around trying to sense the lion or something and I felt as if I were being pulled in a direction. "Hey, do you even know where you're going?" He asked. "Not really."

"Are you trying to get us lost or something?"

"You can always go back to the pod," I told him, while still walking. "Besides I feel-" I screamed slightly as I fell through the floor. I landed in the middle of a cavern with a glowing light down the hall.

"Are you okay?" Keith asked I could almost feel a smirk from him.

"Fine, just go back to the pod or something I'll meet you when I get out," I said before walking towards the light, I heard him say something but not what as I already walked in pretty far.

I turned to an opening and saw the violet lion in a similar state to how we found the blue lion.

"Wow..." I said slowly walking up, I placed my hand on the forcefield which disappeared after just like with the blue lion she knelt down to let me in. "You're gonna have to help me," I said as I sat in the seat, she pulled me forward and almost as if I could hear words she showed me what to do, and I flew out. After I had met up with Keith we were the first group back, shortly followed by Shiro and Pidge. Then finally Hunk and Lance who seemed to have been through hell.

"You made it." Allura seemed happy.

"Yeah, just barely that was a nightmare. I almost puked out there. I felt like Hunk," Lance groaned.

"Imagine how I felt. I am Hunk!" He said.

"Yeah, we had a tough time too," Pidge smiled at Shiro.

I chuckled a bit, "Us too." I looked over at Keith who just shook his head.

"Have we found the red lion yet?" Shiro asked getting back to business.

"Allura just located it, There's a bit of good news and bad news. Good news is, the red lion is nearby, Bad news is it's on a Galra ship orbiting Arus, oh but good news again we're Arus!" Coran said.

"They're here already?" Shiro said I swear I heard a bit of fear in his voice.

"Yes, it seems my calculations were off, finger counting is more of an art, not a science," Coran said.

A large screen suddenly appeared in the room which what seemed to be a purple furry creature like being was this a Galra I thought.

"Princess Allura, I am commander Sendak of the Galra Empire. I come on behalf of emperor Zarkon, lord of the known universe." He stated everyone, gasped, " I am here to confiscate the lions. Turn them over to me or I will destroy your planet." The transmission ended.

"Alright let's not panic," Shiro said.

"Not panic? That scary purple alien thing is driving his ship right towards us, and we only have five lions,"

"Only four working lions," Pidge noted.

"Thank you, Pidge. Four working lions and a castle that's 10,000 years old!" Hunk continued.

"Actually it's 10,600 years old. You see my grandfather-"

"Not helping Coran," I said.

"See? Now is the perfect time to panic," Hunk said.

"Wait, this castle has a particle barrier we can activate,"

"Girl, you've already activated my par-"

"Lance!" Shiro scolded.

"The particle barrier won't hold against the ion cannon forever, the Galran technology must have advanced since we last fought them,"

"Panic now?" Hunk asked.

"No. we just gotta figure out our plan of action and figure it out quickly," Shiro said.

"I say we pop through a wormhole and live to fight another day," Lance said.

"I second that. Yes. We tried to find all the lions, right?" Hunk tried to get everyone on board. "We only have four lions, we can't form Voltron. I mean we can form a worm and go through that wormhole Lance was talking about."

"Alright it's settled, Allura you're with me, one of you take the old guy," Lance said.

"We can't just abandon Arus. The Galra will keep destroying planets and capturing prisoners until we stop them," Pidge said.

"Okay. If we run, then maybe Sedak will follow us and leave Arus alone as we did with Earth, we form the snake worm thing, and fly out of here,"

"Sendak could destroy the planet and come after us anyway," Keith told him. 

"Staying is our only option."

"Here's an option: Shut your quiznak!" Lance shouted.

"I don't think you're using that word correctly,"

"What do you know, Mullet?"

"We're staying!" They got in each other's faces, honestly, if I didn't know better I'd think they were five.

"Leaving,"

"Staying!" Pidge shouted.

"Snake!" Hunk shouted.

"Idiots," I muttered.

"Guys stop!" Shiro shouted. Everyone separated from each other, with Shiro and I in the middle.

On one hand, I had agreed with Pidge and Keith, we needed to stop the Galra on the other I agreed with Lance and Hunk, although probably not for the same reasons, we don't know exactly what you're up against.

"Princess Allura these are your lions, and you've fought the Galra before what do you think we should do," He looked at her.

"I... don't know," She seemed conflicted.

"Perhaps your father can help," Coran said. The two left and I just hoped they'd hurry in whatever they were doing or we'd be in big trouble.

[Next] If anyone wants to be added to a tag list please message me. 

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[arcticdementor]

I would like to meditate a bit on the nature of conformity versus rebelliousness here.

At the heart of Liberalism is a gritty origin story in which liberalism started out as an underdog. A rebel. In that story, it was new class of merchants and enlightened intellectuals that shattered old and stagnant order that consisted of priests and lords. Lords ruled due to machinations and deceptions of the clergy until brave enlightened-era thinkers debunked their lies. For that reason, liberals like to see themselves as free-thinking rebels, and any challenge to liberalism as fundamentally conservative. Sexy, liberated rebels against evil conformist empire.

But now there is a baffling role-reversal in that alt-right types see themselves as freewheeling thinkers and derisively call mainstream liberals "NPCs." And what is even stranger that the insult appears to be working in the sense of agitating its targets -- hence twitter banning it.

So, what's going on?

…

This is a very interesting article on paradoxes of liberalism. It quotes Isaac Kramnick, "Though [liberal] radicals preached independence, freedom, and autonomy in polity and mar­ket, they preached order, routine, and subordination in factory, school, poorhouse, and prison." The article explains that, back when Adam Smith wrote Wealth Of Nations most of capitalist class consisted of small business -- butchers, bakers, shoemakers etc. These people could maintain great sense of agency and independence. But soon afterwards the big industrialists came to the scene and demanded total obedience out of disempowered proles. Granted, efficiency skyrocketed due to such methods. But that's not how people imagined great shinning age with no priests nor kings would be like. (This is what I meant by Nazis trying to escape doldrums of liberalism)

In addition, it must be said that the liberalism's gritty origin story I mentioned before is also partially based on bad history -- horrors of pre-modern societies were often exaggerated by enlightenment-era thinkers. They looked at the Church and aristocracy in their period and found them stagnant, decrepit, and opposed to progress. So they projected their situation back to the past and constructed the story where the Church and the aristocracy were always united against Progress, always keeping The People down.

There are many problems with that story. Beginning with the fact that medieval Church itself started out as an underdog in the hostile post-Roman world. It often had to fight for independence from aristocracy (local warlords, really). It took centuries to abolish layman investiture (a practice where King could handpick the bishops). Some noble-priest synergy where they team up to destroy Progress never really happened.

What is also not often told is a story of technological and scientific progress in medieval period. Some parts of scientific method are of medieval origin. And people behind those advances weren't some enlightened free thinkers. They were crazy religious fanatics who nevertheless believed that the world simply must have some kind of order because it was created by a rational God (which wasn't really their idea, they got it from Plato). People like Roger Bacon and Nicholas of Cusa.

…

There is a really poignant moment in Metal Gear Solid II. Raiden (protagonist) confronts evil Patriot AI created to monitor and control world's information. The protagonist makes a really passionate speech on the indomitable human spirit and the need for freedom and self-determination. And the reply by the evil AI is pitch perfect. "Is that even your idea or are just repeating what Snake (another protagonist) told you?"

In essence, AI called Raiden a "NPC." You think that you are free because the others told you so. You only "rebel" to ask for fifty Stalins.

…

The Bluecheck is dissatisfied because all his life he has followed the (increasingly absurd) rules of "professional managerial class." Despite championing the ostensibly free society, he doesn't know what would he do without the constant fear of punishment. He is irritated because pepe posters aren't kowtowing to his credentials. Pepes don't jump when told to, unlike his interns. That's why being called "NPC" stings.

The pepe poster actually has a better claim to a title of "free thinker" because his opinions on race, gender and society are actually taboo. He actually thinks critically about what authority figures tell him (which is not to say he is necessarily right; "free thinker" is not the same as "correct thinker"). But he is unhappy for a different reason. Namely because he probably still lives in his mother's basement and thus also doesn't have the independence he wants. Either because his version of anti-liberalism isn't very functional or because he isn't.

[gascon-en-exil]

FE16 Blue Lions Liveblogging

Chapters 17-18. Lots of heavy plot content here.

The further along I get in the war phase the more superfluous the monastery content and calendar system becomes. I haven’t gotten any new paralogues since Annette and Gilbert’s, because I believe you only get ones for characters you’ve recruited and I’ve exhausted all of those. I’ve read that Dimitri may have one toward the end, and Mercedes shares hers with Caspar of all people so that’ll have to wait for a playthrough when I do inter-house recruiting, but apart from that everyone in my army has had one. There’s little to do at the monastery but grind professor rank and Renown, mostly for supports and a last few skill ranks. What little there is in the way of quests is just Gilbert asking for resource contributions. It’s like the endgame WoW of years past, only without even the option to do group content (not that I would, but regardless).

The enemy AI for the school phase’s Battle of the Eagle and Lion allowed it to feel like a genuine struggle between three opposing armies, but round 2 in the war phase sacrificed narrative for the sake of difficulty. The Alliance forces charged my position after a few turns and didn’t go for the Empire at all, leaving me to play more defensively to neutralize their flying archer lord (...I really hope Claude spontaneously getting a wyvern gets some kind of explanation in the Deer route, something more than “because Almyran, just go with it”). Dedue once against punched Edelgard into submission because he’s distinctly good at that - really goes along with the hunting her down and killing her bit in another route, which TVTropes is now claiming can still happen if you choose to spare her. Huh.

Student kills: Ferdinand and Bernadetta from the Eagles, Lorenz, Raphael, Ignatz, Leonie, and Lysithea from the Deer, with the others either retreating or still unseen in the war phase. Petra was the only one who really surprised me by retreating instead of dying.

Starting in Chapter 18 Dimitri can be interacted with again like a normal unit. While I have issues with some of the presentation behind his change of heart (see below), it’s good to have him working on supports and building his skill ranks during training sessions again. Not that he really needs the latter; his stats are massive and both his sword and lance ranks are nearly maxed out.

The story map for Chapter 18 introduces magic/technology hybrids that act like either monsters or siege towers, on top of having at least one enemy caster with a traditional siege spell. Adding a lever far into the map to shut down the lightning towers was a nice touch.

Most of the master classes have been a pain to grind toward, as only a few units have what it takes to be true hybrids. Sylvain is evidently one of them, but sending Mercedes through cavalier to work on her riding for holy knight made her borderline useless. At least some of the advanced classes are good enough to where they could feasibly work for endgame (but I do still want a holy knight, so Mercedes will continue poking things for a while).

Story/Character observations

I’ve been getting all kinds of A supports. Dimitri/Dedue and Felix/Sylvain are as gay as advertised. Catherine/Ashe is one of those rare plot-heavy support lines, where we find out more about Lonato and Ashe’s own drive for revenge. Byleth/Gilbert is not even slightly romantic even late into their A support, which makes me wonder why he’s an S rank option for either gender when it’s more about pushing him to go home to his wife. Ditto Gilbert’s supports with Annette. Ashe/Annette gets kind of cute in the end, but Felix/Annette involves entirely too many of her comically bad songs to be endearing. Manuela cuts out the cougar routine when she spies on Sylvain being an asshole. Catherine thought young Dimitri was a maiden based on his haircut (as seen in the CG of him dancing with Edelgard - this guy is forever doomed to multiple varieties of bad hair) and repeats Felix’s taunt that Dimitri used to get so excited while training that he’d break swords in half but he’s better with lances even though they have less durability? I forget with whom, but Dimitri shuts down the impossible dream of fellow lance lord Ephraim by acknowledging that his traveling the world as a warrior would be irresponsible. The gender of Shamir’s first love might depend on Byleth’s - will have to see how the f!Byleth support words it. 

As for the story, this is the moment where Dimitri makes his turn back toward sanity and a sense of personal responsibility. Just as I predicted, his decision to allow that unnamed orphan girl to join the army turns out to have been a bad one. After Rodrigue takes a blade for his prince and Byleth shows himself again adept at swift executions, Dimitri is moved by the death of yet another of his loved ones to go walking in the rain and respond favorably to vaguely inspirational dialogue choices. While I understand what the writers were going for, I have two issues with this sequence of events. The first is minor, in that the CGs used for them - of Fleche preparing to stab Dimitri and Rodrigue stepping between them, of the dying Rodrigue cradling Dimitri’s face, and of Dimitri in the rain - don’t do a very good job of matching the intended mood. The first two use sunset lighting and thus appear much too soft, while Dimitri in the rain with his hair plastered to his head alone against a black background looks unsettling and almost creepy for what’s meant to be his big moment of redemption. That’s a small quibble with artistic choice, however.

On the other hand, my other issue will take a whole post to explain. I’ll be saving that for a larger Dimitri/Dedue project after I’ve completed playthroughs of all the routes routes, but my basic argument is this: Dedue being removed and then optionally re-inserted into the Blue Lions storyline was necessary for Dimitri’s emotional arc to make sense, and to allow Byleth a much larger role in said arc than they otherwise would have had. Yes, I have major shipping goggles on here, but try to imagine a scenario where Dedue saves Dimitri from prison and they go on the run together for five years, before reuniting with everyone at the monastery.

To no one’s surprise, Dedue takes up watching after the prince in the monastery the chapter after he returns. In Chapter 18 he comments that he’s the only that Dimitri hasn’t really changed despite appearing more sane, that he’s still too kind and sensitive to the suffering of war and that Dedue admires him for that. They’re just laying the subtext on thick now.

Related to my problem with the Alliance AI in the threeway battle, it’s never explained why Claude joins the battle at Gronder Field (apart from getting him into that cutscene they all share, anwyay). Prior to that battle House Reigan opposed the Empire and even engaged House Gloucester’s pro-Imperial faction to distract them from Chapter 16′s bridge.  As the next chapter’s title references the Deer however I imagine I’ll get an explanation sooner rather than later.

Cornelia’s cleavage may be impossible, but as far as under-dressed female villains in this series go she wasn’t terrible. She doesn’t flirt with anyone and apparently got her lofty position in the Kingdom through her talents at magic and infrastructure reform (which may have included the turrets and giant robots in Fhirdiad? Was that the implication?). Her dying revelation about Dimitri’s stepmother would have landed better had we ever seen anything of her, but I suppose as Edelgard’s birth mother she’ll be brought up again in some capacity on her route.

[homestuckhomestuckhomestuck]

 Interesting timeline facts I can get from the Skaianet ARG draft papers- 

- Jane’s Dad was a clone of John’s Dad. John’s Dad was Jane Crocker (Nanna) and Stan Laurel’s (don’t even ask :v) genetic son on pre-scratch Earth (beta session). The surname “Egbert” comes from a man Nanna later married after fleeing the Condesce. The cloning happened when HIC was ensuring post-scratch Earth (alpha session) had functionally similar conditions to pre-scratch Earth- she impregnated Alpha John’s future wife with a Sburb ectobiology machine with Nanna’s son’s DNA, which is why Jane’s Dad and John’s Dad look identical through two different universes and parentage. Ectobiologically speaking, this would make Dad and John half-brothers. 

- when HIC was first on pre-scratch Earth just after Alternia was destroyed she cut off her hair and sawed off her horns to blend in and ran a bordello in the US Wild West, among other things????? I just mention this because apparently troll horns grow back. 

(beta session/pre-scratch Earth)

- Rose’s Mom and Dave’s Bro got recruited into Skaianet by Jade’s Grandpa at a young age and lived off of trust funds Jade’s Grandpa set up for them in the 1980s. This is why they have money, and probably how Roxy babysat Joey. 

- Nanna (Jane) is named after Calamity Jane, Calliope/Caliborn’s Cherub mom who “kept [HIC] on the rails of her designated global conquest to secure the future birthplace of her son and daughter” by opposing her from pre-scratch Earth onwards. Grandpa was just named Jake because “it sounded kind of like Jane, human names are stupid, and HIC doesn’t actually care.” 

- Skaianet was a front company used to speed along the development of technology on Earth by releasing Alternian and hoarded Sburb tech from meteor sites to eventually support the running of Sburb to end the universe and scratch into a new one by HIC. She planned to use the post scratch earth (alpha session) as a home planet for the rebirth of the troll empire in Universe C, which the kids were supposed to win for her and hand over, which was going just as planned until John’s Retcon. 

- Jade’s Grandpa is ridiculously irresponsible and doesn’t have strong character, there is a lot about Jake..... as puppet head of Skaianet, anyway the most relevant thing I could find is Hiveswap Joey Claire is born in 1980 and Hiveswap is in 1994 and Jade’s meteor hits the island in 1995, and Grandpa was totally oblivious to Skaianet’s sinister purpose until he finally found “the mysterious island in the pacific,” i.e. Hellmurder Island, ditched his newest wife (A. Claire) and children (Joey Claire and Jude Harley) and presumably did his sburb exploration shenanigans to save John and pick up Jade’s dead dreamself after discovering the frog temple and eventually died when Jade was young because of Tavros mind controlling Bec to redirect a bullet she fired as a baby. We got Grandpa’s full timeline, and man is it weird. 

Homestuck Storyline

- John’s Retcon signifigance in story is a little more explained. 

- HIC’s master plan was to get Roxy to revive the matriorb, take over post-scratch Earth and Universe C, groom Jane as Heiress, and Jake as Jane’s slave, and restart the troll empire in Universe C. John’s retcon “disrupted the course of events, breaking HIC's mental grip on her powerful servants, and turning the tide in their favor.” Epilogue indicates this probably means Jade and Jane. Other possibilities: Gamzee and Kurloz, just because clowns are frequently referred to as HIC’s powerful servants, and a large part of John’s retcons involved Gamzee looking completely baffled and stopping him from manipulating Terezi to kill Vriska. Implied this is what stopped HIC. Not sure how Aranea in [S] Game Over fit in.  

- It’s also implied John’s retcon power had something to do with Calliope predominating in an alternate timeline, which was said to be impossible barring “a highly improbable glitch in causality” aka exactly how the retcon power is described. This Calliope destroys the green sun and renders LE vulnerable to attack by Vriska w the masterpiece juju (i.e. what gives out the retcon power in the first place.) so ???? good job john, whatever this implies. 

- Gamzee’s timeline remains kind of unexplained. Already known: Calliope/Caliborn was born on a dying Earth C in Universe C, that means Universe C had to be created in order for Lord English to be born. Not known if Gamzee going around gathering stuff for Lord English only happened in the pre-retcon timeline where he was eventually killed in Game Over, and the post-retcon iteration of him stuffed in a fridge came back once Caliborn started in his null session and then eventually got killed by being combo smashed into Lil Cal by nebulous future/alternate human kids, who ALSO made their way there via the retcon power? Also implies the retcon power begins and ends circularly with the ‘Masterpiece’ juju- but since it’s already proved John doesn’t have to make stable time loops and can literally just have a clone of himself with the retcon power running around, I don’t know..... what happened............ still......... 

- Anyway Cherub mythology gets tied back into the beginning, same time HIC hits Earth so does Calamity Jane, to drive home the entire plot of Homestuck is a cascade of unfortunate events made to ensure Lord English’s existence, Calamity Jane’s son. She kept HIC in check to make sure she didn’t go too crazy but took over both Earths in a way to ensure Sburb would happen so Calamity Jane could meet her mate, and said “we both fulfilled our use” as HIC bled out stabbed through with an anime sword, and flew off into Skaia, to sometime after Earth C was next to a dying sun.

- Jake may never maintain a responsible relationship.

(alpha session/post-scratch Earth)

- Guy Fieri and Insane Clown Posse’s unexpectedly in-depth absurdist backstory as horrifying genetic experiment of HIC. Don’t even ask?? Implication Steve Bannon is deformed clone of Guy Fieri. Also implication “Guy Fieri” is a mispronunciation of “Guy Feferi” this just made me double take so.  

- I didn’t know if the files were implying Jake’s Grandma (alpha Jade) somehow also was involved in WWII like Jade’s Grandpa (beta Jake) was, or if the Condesce forced WWII to happen the same way to keep the timeline similar to pre-scratch Earth, but it definitely implied Alpha Jade had an affair with Charlie Chaplin-as-a-trained-assassin which implies Calamity Jane founded that on post-scratch Earth too, which is weird. Anyway that’s why HIC waits so long to kill Alpha Jade, to let events play out as identically as possible until Jane and Jake were in the medium. 

- Not gonna touch, and besides, not relevant to HS- WWII, Jesse James, Mark Twain, Charlie Chaplin, Jake’s relationships, lethally trained slapstick vaudeville performer assassinations, double crosses, and dueling between the forces of Calamity Jane and HIC, i.e. a significant portion of text devoted to the underground army of notable comics and performers vs Betty Crocker and the forces of scientific advancement (for purposes of ending the world.) Well now we have an incredibly convoluted explanation for why Colonel Sassacre and Mark Twain are the same person. 

- It just occurred to me this underground network of writers, entertainers, and comics is probably the word of god reason on how Alpha Rose and Alpha Dave got the backing, info, and into contact to start their anti-HIC campaign on post-scratch Earth- didn’t Alpha John also become a comedian later? Nothing much on him at all, though.  

- Just this: Alpha John fleed the Crocker compound when he saw Hitler’s severed head lying on a desk. This is apparently a carefully HIC arranged constant between pre-scratch and post-scratch Earth. Nanna (Jane) didn’t really seem to notice the head when she finally left. 

- Obama escaped to post-scratch Earth from pre-scratch Earth, which also the implies we are living on Post-scratch Earth and the meteor Apophis is going to deliver some kind of sburb technology and/or accelerate the demise of the Earth in 4/13/2029. Mentioned a lot, but curiously little info on Apophis, seemingly irrelevant to rest of story. 

Conclusion: I have no idea what the Homestuck epilogue is going to be, except  Aphophis might be involved, somehow. I hope the retcon power timeline to the masterpiece juju gets explained? I hope Vriska, Sollux, and Aradia’s fate is explained? Gamzee timeline? What did the masterpiece actually do?? MYSTERY

[duhragonball]

Dragon Ball Z 011

Hot damn!   It’s time for Terror on Arlia!   This is probably one of the best filler episodes ever.   It’s like, the driver’s ed episode, the Goku vs. Pikkon fight, and this.    I’m not sure how I’d rank them, but maybe I’ll work on that sometime later.

First off, some time has passed once again since the last episode.  Now, Gohan is strong enough that the dinosaur that keeps attacking him is no longer a threat.  

Gohan just calmly runs away from it, then jumps right before he runs into a boulder, and the dinosaur hits it instead.

Then he hacks off a piece of the dinosaur’s tail while it’s stunned.   Again.   Gohan’s apparently been doing this for a while now, and he warns the dinosaur that it’ll run out of tail at the rate they’re going.   The message is simple: Don’t eat Gohan’s friends.

Gohan has also figured out how to make his own ki blasts, which is pretty high-level stuff.   His ki may only be powerful enough to start a fire, but it’s way more than most of the other characters could have done at age four.

Meanwhile, Bulam, Krillin, and Yamcha are looking for Tien and Chiaotzu.   Or maybe they’re just talking about looking for them now that they have Yamcha.   I’m pretty sure the Gohan scenes are taking place over the course of several weeks, while these Z-Warrior scenes are supposed to be playing out over the course of a single day.  Even if it really is taking this long to find Tien, why would Krillin and Yamcha be with her for the whole search?   They’d be better off heading to Kami’s Lookout, so they can start training for the Saiyans.

Speaking of Tien, Launch is on the run from the cops for stealing a bunch of money for Tien.

She eludes the police with a grenade launcher.

So she escapes with the loot.   Most of it anyway, a lot spilled out of the back while she was being chased.

But never mind that, here comes Vegeta.   He and Nappa are on their way to Earth, and they set their space pods to put them in stasis for the year-long journey, but Vegeta programmed it to wake them up at a certain point along the way, so they could get out and stretch their legs. 

Seems he found a planet along their course for Earth, and since the Saiyans conquer planets to sell for profit, he sees this as a way to make some nice profit on the side.  This seems a bit out of character for Vegeta, given what we learn about him later on.   I would think that the Planet Trade business is just something he puts up with until he can find a way to get out of it.    So it’s not that he wouldn’t want to take a pit stop on the way to Earth, but I doubt it would be to score some extra cash.

Anyway, Nappa just wants to get out of the pod and move around a bit, so he’s up for anything.   

And here’s the lucky planet they’re going to.   It’s called Arlia, and it looks really crappy, even from a distance.  There was an episode of Mythbusters where they tested the futility of polishing a turd, and it ended up with them making piles of dung into spheres.    That’s what Arlia looks like. 

The planet actually manages to look even worse up close.   I don’t know if the boys meant to set down in a desolate area like this, but I always got the impression that most of the planet looks like this, so they didn’t have much choice.   Vegeta concedes that they probably won’t find a buyer for Arlia after all.   I figure this is the sort of planet a Space Trillionaire would buy, but only because he wants to feel like a Space Quadrillionaire.

Suddenly these big bug people show up.    I don’t know why they’re so much bigger than Nappa, when the rest of the Arlians we see are not.   There’s a lot we don’t know about the Arlians, and we’ll probably never know.    They threaten to arrest the Saiyans and take them to King Moai.

Nappa’s eager to fight them, but Vegeta orders him to stand down for the moment, since he wants to see this Moai guy for himself.    I guess he figures the planets’ leader would be in a more advance (read: valuable) location, which would give Vegeta a better idea of what Arlia has to offer. 

Notable, this is the first indication of Saiyans using telepathy.   Goku uses it later on, and we’ve already seen Master Roshi, Crane Hermit, Korin, and Kami use it, but it always seemed to be this mystical thing that only wise old martial artists could do.    Oh yeah, and King Piccolo could telepathically communicate with his offspring.  

I guess what I find interesting about this instance is that Vegeta uses it rather casually, when he could just as easily whisper to Nappa, or maybe use some nonverbal gesture to get his point across.    The point here may be to indicate just how scary-powerful Vegeta is, but the thing about Vegeta is that anything we see him do can be applied to every other Saiyan character.   If Master Roshi can read minds, it sort of stops there.   If Vegeta can communicate telepathically, that means Nappa, Raditz, Goku, and Gohan can too, along with every other Saiyan character that hasn’t been introduced yet.   Vegeta might be the only one who knows how at this point, but that’s just a matter of skill.

So here’s Moai’s stronghold, and guess what, it’s also a dump.   I’m not complaining about the artwork, mind you.    This scenery is breathtaking.   The twin suns sort of make this look like a face, with the clouds forming a furrowed brow.   It’s like the Arlians’ god is looking down on the castle, and he’s not happy with what he’s seeing.  

Also, while Moai’s fortress looks moderately impessive, it’s surrounded by absolutely nothing.   What happened on this planet?   My guess is that it was ruined by centuries of war, but it’s also possible that the Arlians prefer it like this. 

Vegeta and Nappa are taken to a dungeon, which looks like something from a Prince Valiant comic.    This is the paradox of Arlia, because it looks like the Arlians are generally familiar with alien visitors, implying that they’ve been exposed to advanced technologies, but their own world is backward and medieval.    They don’t even seem interested in the Saiyans’ ships or their scouters.   And they lock them up behind a wooden gate.    And why do they carry swords when they all seem to have some sort of red mouth laser? 

While they wait, the Saiyans meet Atla, one of the native Arlians who’s been imprisoned by Moai.   Well, “meet” may not be the right word.   Atla just starts introducing himself and explaining the backstory while they stand silently and face in his general direction.  

From Atla’s words, it sounds to me like Moai took over the planet fairly recently, perhaps after a long civil war that killed anyone more qualified to rule.  Unconcerned with actually governing his people, Moai just does whatever he pleases, using his unlimited power to enforce his whims.   So there’s a good chance that the planet looks like a dump because of his indifference. 

I dig this sort of thing, because it reminds me of the decline of the Western Roman Empire, where the emperors eventually became little more than figureheads backed by strong military leaders.   Over time, the Roman armies became supplemented by foreign mercenaries, until eventually the top generals were all foreign mercenaries, and eventually they just dispensed with the figureheads and started ruling Italy outright.    I get the impression that the emperors didn’t particularly care that their domain was being usurped by outsiders, because as long as they were comfortable in their palaces then everything was fine. 

There’s kind of a similar pattern in the Bible, where you see David and Solomon’s descendants slowly letting the Kingdom of Israel decline.    Rehoboam’s arrogance caused the kingdom to split in two, and while there were a few good kings who embraced piety and reform, a lot of wicked kings abandoned the principles that made their reigns possible.   They worshipped idols and did whatever they liked, and then eventually they found themselves surrounded by powerful enemies.   The later kings were reduced to vassals, but they didn’t seem too concerned about that as long they got to sit in their palaces and pretend everything was okay.

Atla laments that now Moai is capturing space aliens on top of oppressing his own people, which suggests that Moai only sees his rule as a right to oppress other people for his own amusement.  

I wrote about this episode some time back, comparing Arlia to Westeros from Game of Thrones, or A Song of Ice and Fire or whatever the hell it’s supposed to be called.   I’ve never read the books because I need that time to liveblog anime, but everything I’ve heard about it suggests that the whole story is about some backwater planet full of medieval fantasy tropes, and all the leaders are corrupt, venal idiots who only stay in charge because they’re protected by bullshit laws and traditions, or because they’re better at the endless palace intrigue that goes on in the story.   There’s one kingdom that was ruled by a Draco Malfoy clone, and another run by a guy who hunts naked women for sport, and I think some character keeps fetuses in jars for no apparent reason.    I get the impression that a lot of the books is just George R.R. Martin trying to use shock value to pad things out.   That and lore.   If Tom Clancy and Howard Stern co-wrote Lord of the Rings, you might have something pretty similar to Game of Thrones. 

What I’m trying to say here is that Moai seems to just sit around all day watching his subjects fight each other for his own amusment.   He forced Atla’s betrothed, Lemlia, to be his queen (she’s the pink bug lady in the back), and he has soldiers just roaming the wastelands in search of new prisoners to mess with.   His men captured real live space aliens and he’s like “Oh goody!   Bring them before me, because I actually believe they’ll respect the idiotic rules that keep me in power.”    I’m pretty sure this is exactly what King Draco Malfoy Clone would do in this situation.

He looks and talks and acts like a complete buffoon, and he’s just begging for some hero to come along and punch him in the mouthparts.    Except Atla’s in the dungeon, and some other, more competent hero must have gotten killed off three books ago (cf. A Sleet of Testicles).

And this is what I love about this episode.    Vegeta (along with Nappa, of course) are sort of being put into this role of traveling heroes who enter a tyrant’s domain and set things right.    They’re certainly powerful enough to do it, but we already know that’s not what they’re here for.  

Vegeta kills all the gladiators and informs Moai that he only let himself be captured just to get this close to the king.    It astonishes me that Moai needs to have this explained to him.    He’s so used to having his own way that it never dawned on him that anyone could use his arrogance against him.

Nappa strikes his classic pose and kills all the guards.

Then Moai summons an even bigger bug creature named Yedi.  Nappa asks permission from Vegeta to handle this one, which I think is a nice touch. 

Nappa rips off Yedi’s finger and licks the monster blood off his face.    Nappa’s awesome.   He’s just havin’ a good old time.

I forget why now, but rocks start falling, probably because Vegeta’s powers cause the ceiling to break apart.    Moai takes cover behind his throne...

...but a rock ends up killing him anyway.  I woudn’t think that’s a vital area, but what do I know about Arlian anatomy?    It’s kind of fitting that Moai should die like this, in his own throne room/gladiator arena, cowering behind his throne.   He thought it would protect him like it always had done in the past, but in the end he met a power that didn’t respect anything he had accomplished.   The Saiyans ignored his royal robes and saw only a fool, and so he died a fool.

Atla shows up and praises the Saiyans or liberating his planet from Moai’s tyranny.   You know, he could have followed them up here and helped out.   They were all in the same cell, and Vegeta and Nappa destroyed the door and killed all the guards, so what took him so long?

The Saiyans just sort of look at him, and then they get back in their spaceships.

I’m not sure why they even bother flying across the surface.   Maybe they’re still surveying the planet, but it’s a crappy planet no matter what angle you view it from.    At last, Vegeta gives up and they head back into space.

But before they leave, he gets out of his ship and decides to leave a going-away present.    How does Vegeta breathe in space?  That’s one way you can tell which ones are filler scenes.   They usually play faster and looser with this sort of thing.   

On the surface, Atla and Lemlia are reunited at last, and it looks like everything’s going to be okay from now on, thanks to those two heroic aliens who...

LOL JK, Vegeta blew up the whole planet.  

What’s so great about this is that Arlia kind of deserved to die.   Not in the strictest narrative sense, but from a metanarrative viewpoint, it was just a really dumb planet.   Any world that could fall under Moai’s rule probably didn’t have much longer to live anyway, and it’s almost like Vegeta put it out of it’s misery.    I’m not suggesting any of this rationalizes Vegeta’s actions.    This is a horrible, horrible crime, and Vegeta did it like it was nothing to him.   He’s done far worse things with even less compunction.

Even so, he’s not Arlia’s villain, he’s Dragon Ball’s villain, so it’s just satisfying to watch him squash some crappy filler planet that had no redeeming value to the story.   It’s like watching your favorite bad guy wrestler clobber your least favorite good guy wrestler.  

And the narrator sums it up very neatly.    This is what’s headed for Earth.    The Saiyans destroyed Arlia like it was nothing, and what can Earth do to avoid a similar fate?    Z stands for The End.  

But not yet.   Not yet.