#[also the fact that the caste system is stupid and is what's causing the planet's slow decline]

[cxldtyrant]

Arcosian Headcanon: Clothing

Due to their ability to adapt under any sort of climate, as well as the fact their genitals are sheathed and therefore not visible, the Arcosian people don't actually need to wear clothing. In fact, the concept of clothing was only just a recent discovery to Arcos via King Cold's influence once he married Queen Froza, as his various conquests brought the planet all kinds of trades and intrigued the nobility, and thereby impacting the masses who sought to emulate them.

Therefore, if you were to attend a gathering with the nobility at the palace, you would find everyone dressed in various foreign fashions. The more expensive and intricate the outfit is, the more the noble will brag about it. Especially if its a rarity, such as the fabrics or style came from a planet whose populace was just wiped out or naturally went extinct, now making it a one-of-a-kind. To the Arcosian nobles, accusations of cultural appropriation or fetishism be damned, foreign clothing shows status and luxury, and they will gladly partake in it.

Because of this cultural trend, the other castes will attempt to emulate the nobles by purchasing more common fabrics or stitching together their own outfits from materials of their home-world's flora and fauna. For the middle class, such as merchants and military, you can occasionally see them in clothing from trades or their army uniform to show off their status and wealth. But for the people in the lower caste (or those who are outright casteless) It is common to see them without clothing.

Of course, there are some who just outright refuse to partake in the trend out of rebellion. Whether because their xenophobia towards foreign species is that strong, a growing resentment towards the nobility for indulging in expensive goods and flaunting it at the other castes, or simple decency to not glorify the appropriation a subjected planet's culture, it all very much varies.

While Cooler himself is not above bringing new crafts and trades to Arcos, he doesn't particularly care to wear clothing and only does so when attending an important royal gathering at his father's request. He finds them particularly restricting, and with how the nobles use them, an utter waste of resources when it could be distributed across all of Arcos, and not just its upper castes. This makes him come across as something of an eccentric individual to the nobility, while the lower castes see him as a cultural rebel and look upon him much more favorably.

#[arcos; the cold kingdom] #[musings; hidden depths] #[Cooler is much more popular among the lower castes than he is with the upper] #[Whereas with Freeza he is popular among the upper castes while the lower castes fear and resent him] #[Cooler sees an increasing alienation of the middle and lower class] #[and is doing his best to stop it before a rebellion hits from within and plunges the planet in civil war] #[also the fact that the caste system is stupid and is what's causing the planet's slow decline] #[with the Arcosians choosing to leave their home-world or because of their rigid systems can only marry within the same caste] #[thereby causing inbreeding and declining birthrates] #[Cooler: we need to reshape the system and become more inclusive or it will spell the end of our people] #[Arcosian nobility: haha look at the funny hat I just spent a million dollars on] #[this is a post about clothing how did this turn into a post about the unfair caste system lol]

[rabidpomeranians]

An unorthodox approach to troll reproduction

It’s blood.

Its always been blood, and we’ve all been fooled by our own preconceived notions of how reproduction works. We were given a fill in the blank riddle and got it so wrong that the thousands of fanfics that reference it stand now as a monument to our presumptuousness.

It’s the easiest bodily fluid to get a literal bucket full of quickly. It contains DNA that can be recombined with a partners and utilized by the mother grub. It keeps pairs of any sex/gender viable. And it weirdly explains why rainbowdrinkers are a thing...

First debunking the other possibilities:

From a human perspective the answers to troll reproduction that immediately come would be A) Two sexes with matched-set gemetes, B) All genetically male, or C) Hermaphrodites. Which all come with contradictions.

A) If individuals only produce sperm or eggs, than a statistically significant number of all pairs would be non productive. Given trolls have no concern over the viability of same sex quadrants, there must be a different mechanic in use.

B) If all trolls produce only sperm cells than there would be no mechanism for genetic mixing between individuals. In fact there would be no point in pairing/quadrants at all. Their social system would match ants or bees which forgo reproductive activity outside of one to one interactions with their queen.

Since its been stated that the viability of offspring is effected by the strength of a pair, we know that pairing is a crucial element. Also if trolls are all genetically male, than binary gender has little to no reason to exist (unless sex and gender are also conceptually divorced, which is another theory).

C) The hardest one to knock and the most popular for it. I guess I would pose the question why, in a strongly individualist society, would people form pairs to do what they could technically do all on their own? Or at least why would ‘self-pairing’ not be more common. Sure, pairing allows for more variety but if the gametes paired randomly, half of the resulting mix would still be self fertilized anyways. 

Ok but what does blood have to do with anything like this?

The fundamental flaw that lies over all three answers and probably several more is that we’ve applied human physiology to an alien species. Yes they look similar but their quadrants and mother grubs are vastly different from our monogamy and individually assigned reproductive organs.

Blood mixing negates sex pairing issues, allowing any two individuals to produce offspring. It allows for genetic recombination, given it contains plenty of dna and possibly beneficial hormones produced from the emotional virility of a pair. Lastly, it necessitates pairing. Mixed and unmixed blood have some kind of fundamental difference, which disallows an individual from self-pairing.

I’d chalk it up to something with the immune system. It’s like how in humans certain blood types mixing causes an immune response. Which inside of a body is horrible because it bursts the blood cells, but in an external mix, bursting cells leave exposed dna, allowing for easier recombination. The ‘dominant’ blood type (immunologically, not caste related) dismantles and assimilates the ‘recessive’ producing a viable ‘genetic slurry’ to be hauled off to the mother grub.

And there is plenty of room for the social taboo behavior exhibited by trolls throughout the comic. Trolls live on a hell planet where everything, and everyone, everywhere is looking for an opportunity to kill them, all the time. Thus advertising that you’ve recently lost a half gallon of blood and are vulnerable because of it, would be really stupid. It makes sense then, to keep talk down and hide away any evidence. This evolves pretty seamlessly into a close enough match to the typical cagey/secretive behavior humans tend to show around their own reproductive activities. Hence why we perceive a parallel even though the reasoning is different.

tldr: We all assume that trolls connect sex with reproduction because that’s what we do, but they’re aliens, they do weird alien things. If their biology worked exactly like ours, they wouldn’t have a big weird moth laying eggs for them. Also you’re welcome.

#homestuck #troll biology #theory #I like to think hussie planned that from the start and got a nice giggle out before realizing we would never let it go #i know the reality is that it was just a shock thing that gained more momentum than expected #but the image of them suffering our presumptive stupidity as much as we've suffered all the weird shit that's come of this feels cathartic

[electronickingdomfox]

"The Tears of the Singers" review

Novel from 1984, by Melinda Snodgrass. A very romance-focused novel, distinctive for having Uhura as a main character. She gets in a love relationship with a virtuoso composer, who will be the key to resolve the problem at hand: deciphering the musical language of a new species, to warn them about their impending doom. The other romantic couple in the book is most unexpected: the Klingon general Kor (from Errand of Mercy) and his recent wife.

The narrative is fine, though the central section of the novel plods a bit, and there's no major development for several chapters, with characters going in circles around the same problems. The solution to the central mystery is also, in my opinion, quite predictable since at least half of the novel. Music is, of course, a central theme in the story. And I think the narrative did a good job of capturing its elusive nature, specially at the end. There's also a kind of environmentalist message, since the new aliens (the Taygetians or Singers) are very similar to seals, and are being slaughtered by greedy hunters. The Federation comes off as quite unsympathetic, because it seems to be totally okay with this as long as the Taygetians are considered just "unintelligent animals". (Come on! I would have expected them to be more respectful of animals, intelligent or not, by the 23rd century. They're only killing them to collect some stupid jewels, after all!). Also, I wonder if the writers of The Voyage Home took some inspiration from this book, since humpback whales are said to be extinct...

As for characters, Guy Maslin (Uhura's love interest) gets a good development. He starts as a snobbish, self-centered celebrity, and progresses to a brave man, willing to sacrifice himself for a good cause, despite his physical frailty. Uhura is portrayed as strong, caring and determined, but I don't think the reader gets to know much more about her than what's already present in the series: she sings, she likes music, she's sometimes torn between her duty to Starfleet and her desire of a family... You know, the usual. In fact, the portrayal of female characters (specially Kor's wife) is rather sexist, for the standards of other novels of this era. On the other hand, the triumvirate gets a more secondary role compared with Uhura and Maslin. Spock is a bit fastidious sometimes; he tends to present objections to everything, even when he doesn't have a better suggestion (shut up, Spock!). But McCoy bounces on his feet, which is great. And Kirk defeats a guy, in one of his famous hand-to-hand combats, by kicking him in the balls, which is... great as well.

Overall, it was a decent novel, though I wouldn't count it among my favorites.

Spoilers under the cut:

A space-time warp is eating starships in the Taygeta system, and it seems the warp is quickly expanding, so the Enterprise cancels all shore leaves and is tasked with investigating it. The only inhabited planet in the system is home to some seal-like beings, who spend their whole lives singing. They're currently being hunted for their precious crystal tears, which they shed upon dying, since they're considered simple animals. But Spock is convinced that their musical language is proof of a higher intelligence, and that investigating it may cast some light on the nature of the space warp. However, deciphering such a complex language would require the skills of a really talented musician.

Fortunately (or unfortunately for the guy), there's just such a musician in their current starbase: Guy Maslin. Uhura had attented his concert, and a bit by chance, she ended up on a date with him. The guy is quite a jerk, and very dismissive of the military, but Uhura holds her ground. And despite their continous bantering, it's obvious there's a growing attraction between them (you know, they're just like Spock and McCoy). However, Maslin's opinion of Starfleet doesn't improve much when he's forcefully recruited into the Enterprise to help with the Taygeta problem. Some of his criticisms are kind of fun, since they reflect what many viewers of the series must have thought at times; like why is Kirk always going down with the landing party, instead of taking care of his ship... Anyway, the guy is determined to hate every second of this forced mission. But Kirk insists on bringing him, even after learning he's suffering from a serious illness, that gets much worse with stress and overwork.

During the trip to Taygeta, Uhura and Maslin start falling in love despite all their discussions. Maslin is a pale, sickly little man, and often insufferable, so not your average love interest. And Uhura seems the only one who can deal with him. It's fine that the romance gets development and is treated with seriousness for a change. Compared with Kirk's romances (actually quite infrequent so far: only in three novels), which never get beyond the very initial stages and feel pretty shallow.

Upon arriving in Taygeta, the Enterprise is greeted by two Klingon ships, tasked with a similar mission. But those ships are commanded by Kor, who still has much admiration for Kirk, and a sort of Klingon honor. So they make a truce to collaborate in the investigation of the warp. Spock has the theory that everything is related to the Singers, and for the following days, Maslin tries to crack their music to no avail. The adult Singers never leave their grottos, and sing a continous melody, while the cubs are really cute and friendly to humans. At this point, the only result of Maslin's analysis is that the adults' song presents gaps in the structure, as if some instruments were missing. The landing party also observes a strange phenomenon among the cubs: tons of fish leap out the sea, the cubs sing a different melody, and the fishes are magically transported to the grottos, for the adults to eat. Besides, the Enterprise scanners notice that the planet's terrain is continually shifting, with forests appearing where there was previously a desert, and viceversa.

Maslin keeps working on the music, each time more involved with the mission, despite the aggravation of his symptoms and Uhura's worries about his health. Meanwhile, Kor's wife (Kali) suspects his husband's first officer is conspiring to take his place. And she starts getting closer and friendlier with the humans. Kali also discovers a group of hunters stranded on the planet and killing Taygetians. So Kor and Kirk beat the bastards and put them in the brig.

At last, the landing party begins to understand some of the strange phenomena. The cubs' singing has the property to manipulate the environment at their will. While the adults' song, with its gaps due to the hunters killing them, is causing the warp in space. When the Klingon learn about this reality-altering power, they decide to use the Taygetians for their own benefit. They betray Kor and the humans, and while the landing party battles them on ground, Kirk faces the Klingon ships from the Enterprise. Outnumbered, Kirk sees no other solution than luring the enemy ships into the warp, and they all disappear into another dimension.

Maslin is over-exerted after the battle on the surface, and very much in the throes of death, but wants to complete his magnum opus. Having deciphered at last the Taygetians' language, and using Uhura as a singer, they ask the cubs for help. With their powers, the creatures are able to recover the lost ships, and they transport Kor back to his starship, where he kills the traitor and ends the mutiny. Then Kirk and the others are granted an audience with the Taygetian matriarch. And through a mixture of music and telepathic contact, they convince her of the necessity of stopping the song at once. The adults had been singing continually since three thousand years ago, to protect their planet from a nova. The radiation, however, is gone by now, so there's no more need for the song, which is in fact ripping the dangerous warp in space. The Taygetians stop singing, and the warp disappears. But right then, Maslin dies in Uhura's arms (not very surprising, considering the fate of those who enter into a serious relationship with anyone from the regular crew...).

In the end, the Federation offers diplomatic relations to the Taygetians, now free of the burden of keeping the song. And Uhura deals with the loss of her lover.

Spirk Meter: 7/10*. Only brief moments, but rather blatant. Kirk watches Spock's "slender fingers" caressing a chess piece, and reflects on how much he has missed him, remembering Edith Keeler's words about how Spock belongs to his side. Later, Kirk is getting dressed in his cabin with Spock present (he came from the gym, which means he was walking around showing his tits as usual). When the Enterprise disappears inside the warp, Spock is sure that Kirk is alive, since he still feels his bond with him. And when Kirk is momentarily lost in the telepathic link with the Taygetian matriarch, he feels reassurance in Spock's "strong and beloved touch".

Besides this, Kor appears in the novel, so you know what that means... And this time, his hate-love for Kirk is more like love-love. He defends Kirk against the Klingon factions that wish to destroy the humans, and is quite willing to collaborate with him. Kor also expresses often his admiration for Kirk. And it's obvious he's been pestering his wife about how awesome Kirk is, during these past years. It doesn't help that the narrative presents some of his officers as "handsome" or "elegant", when writing from Kor's point of view.

Also, we have this little gem from McCoy:

"Spock, you're just beggin' for a physical. A complete physical."

Sounds... hmmm... invasive.

*A 10 in this scale is the most obvious spirk moments in TOS. Think of the back massage, "You make me believe in miracles", or "Amok Time" for example.

#star trek tos #star trek novels #novel review #spirk #k/s #uhura

[collymore]

Murder in a good cause!

By Stanley Collymore They have intentionally been the egregiously malevolent bane continuously in the every day lives of our Black Race for in excess of some half a millennium years; and furthermore regrettably as we still essentially see, blatantly and very maliciously still carry on being so in this rather supposedly modern and manifestly regularly regarded, as the enlightened 21st Century. The simply very odious, toxic vermin who so irrefutably, evidently imbued by their quite discernibly evil, and rampantly accustomed sycophancy rather eagerly granted to their surfeit of keenly regarded as superior white men, white women plus obviously also their offspring! A state of affairs, stupidly and incessantly, compounded by a conspicuously obvious, rather dire, intellectually challenged stupidity simply on their part that injuriously; callously too and indifferently consciously knowingly, turn on members of their Black Race solely in order to curry favour that is transitory at best, and also similarly and quickly too is often readily withdrawn on a whim by those delivering it from the scum recipients who actually consider, and overly without any secrecy regard and keenly worship as their compelling betters. House Niggers, for all intents and purposes and similarly forthrightly both honestly and candidly to give them their actual and well-deserved name, who clearly had it not been for them effectively in tandem, and naturally exuberantly so with their enduringly very sickeningly repulsive and basically callous, quite devastating treachery to our obvious enormous, disgustingly ongoing and systemically, purposely deleteriously ill-treated Black Race; quite certainly that evilly, Transatlantic Slave Trade; its subsequent, and iniquitous curse of overt colonialism; simply heinous and firmly entrenched Jim Crowism; rampant and obviously unjustifiable racial segregation, the British rather euphemistic but equally as odiously toxic so-called colour bar and other ingrained, murderous philosophies, like apartheid, undeniably wouldn't have generally survived for as long as they rather evidently did without the recurrently obsequious comfort and the quite nauseatingly fawning support to white Caucasians rather routinely by these distinctly evil but generally insecure, House Niggers! (C) Stanley V. Collymore 5 July 2023. Author's Remarks: Among past generations of white Caucasians and still to this day within the ranks of many such likeminded scum across the western hemisphere the generally accepted view was as still is that the only worthwhile Black person: whether male, female or a child, was a dead one. Blacks could quite easily and for quite justifiable reasons have adopted the same attitude towards whites as well but didn't; and significantly so, because our Black intellectual perspicacity is far superior to that of these white Caucasians; and why bother stating a discernibly obvious fact to ourselves and far less so the white man, woman and their offspring who're not that astute to ascertain what you were talking about, as morality was undoubtedly not a salient factor of these peoples' lives then nor is it now. However, in terms of ridding this Planet Earth of scum that shouldn't be here, millions of whites aside, there is distinctly a cast iron case, requisite to some of the reasons outlined in this poem, for us Blacks to do everything that we possibly can to physically get rid of our own House Niggers!

#Good riddanbce

[wnnbdarklord]

EDIT: so I started writing this like a week ago, but honestly the finale killed any desire in me to interact with this show in a fannish way. So have these half assed notes. I think it's obvious where I lost steam. These ideas are free for use for anyone who wants them in fic, have at you. As it is, I don't think I'll interact with this show as a fan any further than this.

How I would write a Loki show in bullet points (and a mishmash of short scenes and dialogue, let's be honest) for my sanity!

Presuming some disney exec came down from on high and forced the inclusion of EG!Loki and the TVA (because otherwise it'd be IW!Loki that survived and it'd be all about him finding his best life away from Earth, Asgard, Thor and the whole Thanos/EG situation. Or if I only had to include the TVA, it'd be IW!Loki dealing with the TVA, not EG!Loki):

Fair warning: this will likely be a mess since I'm not entirely motivated to not have it be so. 

[cut for length]

Ep1:

- Loki escapes to Nidavelir and uses the tools there to get rid of the chains and muzzle. A CONTROLLED use of the Tesseract, thankyouverymuch

- the TVA comes for him and Loki is wary and on the alert, exhausted from the whole Avengers thing so he immediately makes a clone to interact with the TVA and observes from afar

- the TVA fall for it when they try to bitchslap him like in the show, but immediately regroup when it goes through the illusion and start a search pattern. Their tech can scan for his temporal aura and they close in on Loki quickly (show the TVA as at least somewhat competent or they're shit antagonists for Loki)

- Loki, who still has hold of the Tesseract, portals out of there

- what follows is a quick chase scene across multiple planets and realms, but the TVA are always on his heels. The longest time they take to find him is during an ongoing apocalypse on a random planet that's enough for Loki to get a quick breather. but you know, disaster's on the horizon, so he has to leave eventually. but this is the first clue both we as an audience and Loki get about potential hiding places.

- when an exhausted Loki finally turns to fight, he manages to take several minutemen out  (justifying B-15's hate on for him) before one of them gets in a lucky shot and freezes him

- "Who are you people?" [short flash of Loki's eyes flashing green and the entire scene getting a strange cast, floating energy swirling around everything. It's beautiful, but the TVA people's energy is out of sync, out of touch and strangely jagged compared to their surroundings]

- they slap the collar on him and march him into the TVA

- Loki immediately tries to pull the same illusion trick but it doesn't work cause no magic in the TVA (maybe some visual indication of what he's trying to do, but it doesn't go past his skin. You know, like Sylvie managed in ep 3 -.-)

- he doesn't wildly panic, but we see his breathing speed up and he immediately looks at his left hand and relaxes when he sees it isn't turning blue. 

- okay so the TVA have caught him, he's on their shit list, no magic, exhausted, no idea what's going on, who these people are or how powerful they are - he chooses to play nice for now and bide his time

- the whole intake process is spent in quiet observation mode, only speaking when spoken to

- discomfort at being out of his clothes, but maybe only a wry joke about them wanting to strip him naked (making him a participant in all the thirst jokes)

- he doesn't ask if a lot of people don't know they're robots like a child wanting validation and he's not visibly afraid. Instead, we see him look at his hand again and try for wry humor when asking. But he steps into the device without much hesitation. It's death vs certainty and we already know he's chosen death once before.

- the propaganda cartoon is much shorter and plays in the background so we can see Loki's incredulous eyebrow raise at it. the ticket thing gets an eyeroll, but ready compliance since it's not worth it to argue

- when he sees the other guy get "pruned", he immediately reaches for the ticket to reassure himself it's there, but doesn't wave it around triumphantly, just sighs in relief

- trial can stay mostly unchanged, just no stupid magic attempt in the middle

"It's not your story, Mr. Laufeyson, it never was" (AND THIS SHALL BE PROVEN FALSE, you know, unlike in the show where it turned out to be their fucking mission statement) also, Loki gives her murder eyes for calling him that

- in fact, instead of trying magic, Loki holds up the controller he stole from  B-15 as she was escorting him to the trial and waves as he disappears through a door backwards

After that scene is the church scene with bodies, establishing Mobius as a hunter of dangerous variants. Someone is killing TVA officers

Mobius gets called back as in canon, but arrives too late to stop our Loki from leaving

Sidenote: Loki still has the tesseract since it was in his pocket dimension during the fight the TVA nabbed him in

Ep 2:

- it's now a few days/weeks later. Loki is back in his own clothes, a simpler outfit not geared for war. He's in the biggest library in the universe, the depository of almost all knowledge, looking for information about the TVA. there is Nothing, suspiciously so

- once again, the TVA shows up and he has to run yet again. maybe he kills this team too, to buy himself more time. he steals a melt stick and more time pads and reset charges

- he needs more information and the only place he'll get it is at the TVA it seems, so he shapeshifts into his female form, dressed as one of the many paperpushers at the TVA and we see her being relieved that the spelled clothing is holding once she passes through the time door

(another aside, but ideally the female form is more like Eva Green or Katie McGrath. AND NOT BLONDE)

- acting like she belongs, Loki effortlessly manages to snoop around the TVA for a few hours

- there's only one close call with C-20, but Loki manages to deflect suspicion by parroting the motto at her, which Loki reads from a nearby propaganda poster (cause Loki is good at lying, manipulation and flying by the seat of their pants)

- eventually, she ends up at the archive area and begins researching. We see that Loki is competent at this and is quick to pick up the filing system. the variant number from the papers she signed the episode before becomes relevant to finding the appropriate files

- before she can dig too deep into her own life story as laid out by these people, just as she finds the Ragnarok Report, Mobius finds her (maybe there was a silent alarm triggered by unauthorized access or something. Slightly more competent TVA)

- there is a scene where Mobius and Loki play a game of chicken and manipulation, wordplay and lying until it becomes clear Mobius knows who Loki is (actually establishing some camaraderie)

- Loki gets a little hoisted by their own petard since they're enjoying the banter so much, the backup Mobius called for catches them a little off guard, collared again

- since info gathering is still the name of the game, Loki doesn't try to get away just yet

(during this entire scene, Mobius is the same offhandedly condescending prick he is in canon, but it's very obviously framed that way)

(also featuring confirmation of the genderfluidity thing because fuck you disney)

M: "Nice disguise. Really had me fooled for a second there."

L: "It's hardly a disguise. I am always myself."

[Loki shifts back to male, though the clothes remain the same (shifting =/= magic)]

M: "Yeah, well, next time you want to go undercover at the TVA, maybe don't choose a face we already have from several other of your variants."

[Loki twitches a little, since that wasn't a form he openly wore a lot (even when he wanted to) cause Asgard is a dick about shifting genders] 

L: "And how does that work exactly?"

M: "Got your entire life on file, buddy. But you know, sometimes Asgard isn't a complete stick in the mud the day you gather enough courage to show up to dinner in a dress. We usually have to prune those timelines quickly."

[Loki's grin is more like a snarl, frozen on his face, since he picks up the implications loud and clear (the implication being that him being too happy is not allowed in the Sacred Timeline)]

M: [picks up the files Loki was looking at] "Come on, I've got something to show you."

-cue time theater scene

-that little scene of looking out at the TVA does not feature Loki being impressed or awed at the TVA's tech. It features him being scared/uneasy because the TVA is completely dead to his senses. Loki's eyes do the same flash as before, but everything is completely dull, no energy anywhere. He can barely see some swirls on his own arms]

-Loki asks why this charade, Mobius tells him the TVA is willing to come to an agreement with Loki for his help

"You're not the only one running around messing up the Sacred Timeline. Come on, job interview time."

(it's really really not)

- Mobius tries the same schtick as before, but it's both less and more effective. Less cause Loki has had a bit more time to collect himself since the invasion, more cause he's more aware of the TVA's power and has been chased by them for a while now

- we see Loki being affected by the Frigga thing BUT he also picks up how edited the reel is

- still, he lets Mobius do the "only thing you're good for" bit until we see him look up with murder in his eyes, even through the tears

- "I am going to burn this place to the ground and I am going to start with you. That is my bargain."

"Yeah, cause your "bargains" [Mobius full on air quotes here] work out so well for you," he says, offering Loki a hand up

-cue alarm and Mobius rushing out

-Loki grabs the files Mobius left behind, and also the tape in the hologram projector and escapes

- no infinity stones scene, cause Loki still has the Tesseract and doesn't go to look for more

- cut to the TVA running around in a panic, multiple branches forming on the displays. It's the same bombing plot as in the show, but now serving as a distraction for Loki to get away

- when they figure this out, Ravonna: "You should have just pruned him when you found him. There's a reason we don't reset Loki variants. Our luck always runs out eventually with them. Fix this, Mobius. Or you'll have to answer to the TimeKeepers."

- back to Loki, he steps out into chaos as something explodes behind him. He's in another apocalypse. During his running from the TVA, he noticed it takes them longer to find him whenever there's a lot of chaos around him, death and destruction. He finds a still intact building, seems high tech. Everyone else has already evacuated

- he takes the Tesseract out and blue and green energy surges around him and engulfs the building. It's suddenly quiet and we see outside the windows are pitch black 

- Loki quickly looks away

"Finally, some peace and quiet."

He slumps down to the floor, files scattered around him, tesseract nearby and curls up, dejected and exhausted 

Side note: Loki doesn't need to worry about recharging tempads since he has the tesseract, which was established in Avengers as able to provide infinite energy

Ep 3:

- he finds out about the variants in this episode, maybe goes looking for other variants before the TVA finds them

-how Loki finds out the TVA are all variants: he'd knocked out B-15 for a bit to interrogate her

-they're found by another team of minutemen, led by B-16, who is wearing B-15's face. Several of the other minutemen we've seen Loki kill in earlier episodes as well. They attack *both* of them cause they assume B-15 is compromised. Loki and B-15 work together and kill the whole lot, staring at each other incredulously

"You're Variants! You're all Variants!"

[B-15 collapses to her knees in shock] 

End episode

EDIT: My basic idea for episodes 4 & 5 were Loki and B-15 working together and travelling through various timelines trying to get to the TimeKeepers, but realizing something was wrong the further they went. Time begins breaking down, paradoxes are all over the place and the TVA keeps pruning some specific place so much that sometimes two teams are on top of each other. Stuff like that. 

I also had a few scenes where Loki meets other variants (that aren't him), but who actually like and even love him. Men, women, variations thereupon, and one or two who would mistake Loki for their Loki. So we get bi confirmation without actually including romance in the show itself, because 6 episodes isn't enough to develop that along with everything else that's going on.

Vaguely outlined here: 

My "how to include the bi thing without the main story being a romance and also indicating that Loki is able to be liked and loved by people who aren't just variants of himself, please and thank you":

(note to self, rewrite this so it makes sense lol EDIT: lol, don't feel like it so this is all you get, folks!) 

a variant significant other, male: kisses Loki

Loki: You are clearly my type, but I'm sorry. I'm not him.

[heartbroken expression on the variant]

from another timeline Loki visits:

woman holding a sword to his head after looking at him suspiciously: Change back!

Loki: Into who?!

woman: Her!

[Loki shapeshifts into his female self]

woman lets go of the sword

"You escaped! When Odin took you away, I thought he would kill you. Why did you never come back to me, my love?"

EDIT: My "twist" ending was that the Time Keepers were dead, not that they never existed. Some sort of mcguffin exists to just break the whole TVA and free the timelines. Idk, maybe the TVA was just a test to see if it'd work, but the system just kept perpetuating itself after the power hungry losers kept it going beyond the bounds of the experiment. Either way: 

villain plot twist: the time keepers are long dead. the TVA is a terrible system that perpetuated itself on its own, only a few judges were aware that the timekeepers had ever died. The entire System Has To Go (lol like disney would ever go there)

The system is literally Killing the Universe, since the universe's natural state of being is a multiverse. But the system don't care, system don't give a shit. System only exists to perpetuate itself, system's survival is the most important, catastrophic universal failure need not apply

(this is way too on the nose for disney, but since this rewrite's motto is Fuck Disney, it shall stay)

EDIT: this was how I imagined the climax of the series.

Mobius or Ravonna (i never decided): "All the chaos, all the possibilities? How can you stand the uncertainty? How can you believe the world will be any better than it is now?"

Loki: "Because it has to be!" [smashy smashy TVA]

series ends with the timeline breaking free

we see various scenes of the variants in their former lives, happy

and AU scenes of the previous movies:

Loki gets pulled up on the bridge

Loki accepts Thor's offer during the Avengers

Loki gets up on Svartalfheim, bleeding heavily, but doesn't go to Asgard but to Thor

Loki tricks Thanos during IW

Loki as an Avenger

Loki as a kid

Loki as a girl

Loki on jotunheim, fully jotun

Loki on Asgard, jotun

faster and faster, all sorts of different AU scenes until the screen goes dark and we see our Loki, smirking

"But...well, those are stories for another time."

and he steps back into the shadows.

#loki series spoilers #loki series negativity #loki series #fanfic #sort of #loki #half assed rewrite #half assed meta #my stuff

[homespork-review]

Homespork Act 2: The Racism of the Conductor’s Baton (Part 4)

BRIGHT: Even having lived in this all his life, Dave nearly gives himself a serious injury launching stuff out of his sylladex. This is a bit more nerve-wracking than John launching PDAs and towels out of the window.

TIER: I'm personally amazed that he hasn't lost any bits to improper handling of fireworks. That shit can really fuck someone that doesn't know what they're doing up, especially a small kid is at risk of losing some fingers.

CHEL: Particularly when he disposes of them in the garbage disposal - that in itself would probably be okay if one soaked the fireworks in the sink but the blades could possibly cause a spark with the metal filings in the firework… I don’t know if that’s possible but the fact that he chooses to dispose of fireworks that way implies to me that he doesn’t know how to safely handle them. I wouldn’t risk it that way myself.

TIER: Realistically the Strider home is just a huge accident waiting to happen, between all the dangerous stuff just out in the open and strewn about in precarious spots and the fetish puppets piled all over.

CHEL: Speaking of which, Dave notices “HELLO DAVE” written in sloppy bright red inside a jigsaw-piece outline on the crawlspace hatch. Dave knows it’s a mind game but opens the hatch anyway, spilling out a huge pile of Smuppets which completely envelops him. It is from here he sent his previously-seen rant to Rose. Which of course we now have to read again…

GET ON WITH IT!: 8

Now, I must mention here that, in most works, the random jumping around in time would be a count of its own for me. I hate it when that happens, it’s unnecessarily confusing. However, there is an ongoing theme of time, time-travelling, and changing timelines in Homestuck, so it at least serves to introduce us to that.

A note pinned to the hatch with a batarang reads thusly, in mismatched fonts/colours, reading eerily as if two people were writing:

bro. roof. now. bring cal. where doing it man where MAKING THIS HAPEN

At least Bro encourages Dave’s writing project, as that latter part is a SBaHJ reference.

I think we all wanted to see Dave take out some frustration on those things.

Back to John, after making a little fort with the cruxite dowels and bedsheets, he uses the Totem Lathe to make the “totems” of various item codes. As I mentioned above, I feel like this is an unnecessary step in the creation process. Why not just have a way to enter the code directly into the Alchemiter? Anyway, Rose uses the previously-useless “Shale” stash to create some more captchalogue cards, increasing John’s inventory size, and recreate the pogo ride and hammer lost to the punched cards. A randomly-entered code produces a rocket pack with a violin, cinderblock, and flower pot halfway merged inside it, leaving it unusable for its intended purpose but heavy enough to kill imps.

John looks through a copy of “Harry Anderson: Wise Guy” by Mike Caveney, encountering the hole-in-the-ace, or “A-Hole”, card trick. Silly name given here aside, it’s a real trick and the way shown is really how you do it. It gives John an idea, and he overlaps two punched cards and uses them both together, creating this.

FAILURE ARTIST: John is smarter than people give him credit for.

CHEL: Yeah, on further examination I don’t think my assumption that he didn’t know who Obama was was being very fair to him. He’s certainly easily distracted, but I don’t think any of the various cast members can truly be described as stupid.

The Pogo Hammer works fine in that it allows him to kill an imp with a single blow, but it sends him and the pogo ride the imp was on flying in the process. Fortunately, Rose is able to move his bed quickly enough to catch him. Unfortunately, those larger monsters are still slowly approaching… Exactly how fucking slowly do these things move? It’s not like the distance they have to cover is huge in proportion to their bodies.

John asks Rose why she can’t just lift the bed up to the gate with him on it, but the game doesn’t allow for that - Rose guesses it’s considered cheating. Against Rose’s advice, John decides to nap, lulled by the hypnotic spirograph of the gate, while Rose experiments with the alchemy system. Deciding to sleep while still surrounded by imps adds to our count again:

HURRY UP AND DO NOTHING: 3

If he has time to nap, he ought to have time to emotionally react, too.

We see Rose in the mausoleum again, the fire getting closer and closer in the window, sparks of firelight flickering around her. Concerned that Dave isn’t helping her, she checks the SBurb server CD for a code to send to John so he can be her server player instead, but it has no code. Outside, the generator overheats and blows, and Rose’s laptop finally shuts down.

Another animation shows what is presumably, and is later confirmed to be, John’s dreams. From a spirograph in a clear blue sky emerge clouds, which take on the forms of John’s dad’s face and various items such as the green ghost, a birthday cake, and a harlequin, the largest and final cloud coalescing into the silhouette of a long-haired girl about John’s age who is obviously not Rose; this, we can guess, is probably GG. This fades into quick flashes of spirographs and pumpkins, and John wakes, surprised, to find GG is messaging him.

TIER: GG once more hints at knowing more about what's happening (like the fact that John's dead nanna is around to give him advice), but is apparently waiting for a specific time to say what exactly. Curiouser and curiouser.

BRIGHT: She also tells John that he needs to wake up. This sounds like a setup for an “It was all just a dream!” twist, but what she actually means is a lot weirder. It takes quite a while to get to that point, however!

TIER: Then there's a Fucking Huge Imp that's decided to impersonate King Kong and it is terrifying, who let this happen. We've got what looks like a boss battle brewing babes!

And then we cut back to Dave, who ascends to the roof with the demon puppet from somewhere worse than hell as instructed in a pretty dope looking and sounding flash. And with another sneak at his elusive as shit bro, we...

Get psyched, and then there's a new kid brought to our attention. Someone that looks quite a bit like the silhouette that showed up in John's little nap

And THEN

We get A Double Psycheout Combo as we go back to the Wayward Vagabond, who is not here for this Retrieve Arms running gag. What he is however is hungry, seeing as he scarfs down a rotten pumpkin between one frame and the next. He also doesn't have the ability to captchalogue stuff, so that's a thing he's got going for him.

Another thing to note is that he has some kind of barcode that brings back “unpleasant memories” he'd rather not think about. After getting some more cans (cans for days my dudes) he promptly declares himself the mayor of Can Town, there presumably being not much else to do while inside the room he's in. Dude seems fond of democracy, and quite obviously has issues with kings.

The guy seems to have an amusing (to me at least) thing about eating green things, nothing is safe. Not even uranium. And though the two green sticks have been munched, the rest of the chalk is used for its intended purpose. He doodles up a town layout, a chess board (with an assist from some motor oil), and then covers the walls in strange planets. A golden planet with a moon, four peculiar planets without anything orbiting them, and pretty separate from the rest a purple mirror to the golden planet. Damn dude this entire wall smells like foreshadowing.

We get a look at the strange screen thingy again, John's window still the only one showing anything, and WV is not familiar enough with whatever this contraption is to turn on the dead screens.

He the manages to accidentally bust out some kind of soda stash and it's like Christmas has come early in the bunker. It's like watching a kid get into the super sugary drinks.

CHEL: Specifically, it’s a reference to this, except it works: "The Simpsons- Homer's first day at work at Home!/" (Watch on YouTube)

TIER:

With that out of the way, we're back to the weird machine, which can show more than John apparently! The other screens are garbled though, especially screen three brings up so many questions. Like seriously what in the fresh hell is that, that right there is worthy of a round of “people not in the fandom explain what's happening”.

There's a countdown visible as well, spanning all four screens, and it gets more or less locked into that. WV then proceeds to shoot the shit for nearly four hecking hours, leaving 13 minutes to go on the countdown.

#homestuck #homestuck review #homestuck meta #homestuck reread #let's read homestuck #literary critique #sporking #Homespork

[ertrunkenerwassergeist]

How often do mage bloodlines spontaneously appear or resurface? And how harmful to the world is the lack of magic users on a wider, metaphysical level?

To your first question:

Not that often and less and less as time goes on. They certainly don’t where the Astrals can see and act against it. Because only the Lucis Caelums and the Fleurets are players in the prophecy and are therefore supposed to have magic.

(Mostly it’s Bahamut and Shiva but the others don’t do anything against their actions, so…)

(Safe for Ifrit. I don’t think he would help per se, but rn he can’t do much of anything safe for watching and keeping the secrets he gets told by the people who still know about his presence in the fires.)

So magic within humans manifests in the blind spots where the Astrals can’t quite reach for whatever reason. The biggest ones are Galahd, Deep City, the Rock of Ravatogh and the entrance to Pitioss.

For example in earlier times when the Lucis Caelum family was bigger the magic of the side branches vanished within a generation or two (because only the main family is supposed to have it), but were one of them to move to Deep City the magic would resurface just as quickly. Because they are children of the Goddess Eos and Etro will do near anything to help them. And Etro is the Goddess of magic, even if she is forced to sleep. 

That’s what happened with Solaris. She is a distand cousin to Noctis by blood and so a Lucis Caelum with a great potential for magic.

But the thing is the only mage lines that keep cropping up are those of blue and green magic because black and white magicks have been bound. Solaris is an exception because she’s a Lucis Caelum. And that makes all the difference.

This is the reason Hiemi’s line has been green mages of various power levels since her family became part of Deep City. The potential had always been there but it has only been able to flourish because Bahamut can’t reach there. 

(The answer to why that is, is sadly a spoiler so I won’t tell here.)

The lack of influence is also why Galahd has such active wild magicks. Shiva tried but got beaten off. 

People who would have been black or white mages had it not been bound, retain their potential for it, but it doesn’t lead to anything. 

One example would be Crowe. She has a very great potential for black magic and so is able to do great things with the magic Regis gifted her with. That’s also one of the reasons the Kingsglaive is made up of Galahdians. 

They are still magick.

If they’re blue or green mages and don’t know or don’t really care about it in the Lucian way (because to them it just is. Another fact of life they use how they see fit) or they have the potential for black or white magic they can’t reach.

Everywhere outside these blindspots even the potential for magic keeps dwindling and that is a truly terrible thing.

To your second question:

Very harmful.

Bahamut and Shiva had no idea what they were doing when they did it. It was not their realm to meddle in an a cause of war between the Gods, but they were already weakened because of the Astral War and just couldn’t fight anymore.

In relation to the scourge magic functiones like an immune system.

The magic within the plants and animals (blue magicks) keeps them immune to it, green magicks work like a barrier to keep the daemons at bay, black magicks are the attack to kill those befallen by the scourge that are already too far gone, namely the daemons and white magicks heal those that haven’t turned yet.

It was a balance. A precarious one, yes, but it was one that worked and would have eradicated the scourge eventually in a more natural way.

But the Astrals panicked. And did something incredible stupid.

When the white and black magicks were bound the other two tried to compensate and as a result were spread thin and weakened. Plants and animals started to loose their immunity and green mages couldn’t keep the scourge away from their settlements anymore.

All of this just caused the scourge to spead even farther and Bahamut to panic even more. That’s when he spoke the prophecy.

That’s when the whole world of Eos was cast so far off kilter that the planet that had already started to die bit by agonizing bit, just kept dying faster.

And no one but Etro and her three servants Diabolos, Doomtrain and Carbuncle know it’s happening.

#the spirit answers #ffxv #magic #worldbuilding #headcanons #times immemorial au #born into the wilds verse #dreams of our past #the consequences of the magicks being bound aren't pretty #as in world ending dangerous #bahamut is a dick #the astrals #etro

[ladyrevanhalin]

ONLY LIGHT CAN CAST SHADOW: CHAPTER FOURTEEN - THE MERCY OF THE JEDI

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15753210/chapters/38375939#workskin

For the first time since returning from Dxun, the woman stood before the Jedi Council. Once she had come here as Halin Chan, the promising Jedi Knight who wished to serve the Republic. Once she had come here as the Revanchist, who sought to turn the Council’s heads and make them realize their hypocrisy. But now, she was coming here for the first time as Revan. What Revan wanted… what Revan wanted was more than Halin or the Revanchist even realized was at stake.

The red and silver of the mask the woman wore contrasted sharply with the deep sapphire color of her robes, with both colors standing boldly against the black of her cloak. She appeared as some sort of a strange Jedi-Mandalorian hybrid there in the center of the Council Chamber. It was clear that some of the Council Members were intimidated by the fact that they could not see her face beneath the mask she wore. She would have been lying to herself if she denied the pleasure she felt at knowing that her presence there intimidated them. A certain degree of fear bred respect—a respect that the Council was used to being on the receiving end of, but not necessarily the opposite. It felt nice to have a shift in the tides for once.

However, Revan did notice a shift in some of the seats on the Council. Replacing Master Dorjander Kace on the Council was Lucian Draay, one of the Masters who had formerly been in charge of the Jedi Tower on Taris. She wondered as to what could be the reasoning for such a change, particularly at this time. Master Dorjander Kace had been one of the last left to have fought in the Great Sith War, and had been captured by the Mandalorians for a period of time. Dared she hope it was possible he resigned his position after voicing support for the Revanchists’ cause?

While the possibility did give her hope, it was irrelevant at the moment. In light of the shared vision on Cathar, which all of the Council had seen with their own eyes, Revan had come before them, once again, to ask for the Council’s support in the decision regarding Jedi aid for the Republic against the Mandalorians.

“I believe all of you already understand why I am here yet again,” Revan said as she addressed them. “You have all now witnessed with your own eyes the truth that I and that the Revanchists have known now for some time. You have all now witnessed the mass-genocide of an entire race from their home planet. You have all witnessed the atrocities of which the Mandalorians are capable of. With these things in mind, I ask you, once again, for the support of the Jedi Order to the Republic during this war.”

There was an uneasy silence in the room. Revan stood tall and with as much confidence as she was capable of displaying. If this had not changed their mind on the matter, then she did not know what would. Either way, she would not allow them to stop her. She would fight on her own if she had to. But if she could convince them finally to sanction the movement, then any Jedi would be free to join the Revanchists—free to fight for the protection of the Republic!

“We do share your concerns,” one Council members finally said, “However, things are a bit more complicated than us simply giving permission for you and your followers to run off into battle…”

“There are… political reasons. The reputation of the Jedi Order is also at stake here. We are not warriors, or soldiers. The Jedi are scholars, healers, teachers…”

“Many rash decisions can be made amidst the desperation caused by war. If such a decision were to be made by a Jedi, and it held negative repercussions, it is the Jedi Order as a whole that would be held responsible.”

“So what all of you are saying,” Revan put rather bluntly, “is that the possibility of negative repercussions on the reputation of the Order outweighs the countless lives that would be saved. Is that the excuse that you are making?”

“We’ve said no such thing!” Master Lemar stated in protest.

“That’s exactly what you’ve said though! You’re still not willing to let the Jedi aid, and yet you know how many people suffer as a result!” The woman was having none of their petty excuses. It needed to be now or never. If they waited too long, there would be no chance of helping.

“We didn’t say that we did not want to help them…”

“You want to, and yet you continue to make excuses not to.”

“We cannot sanction a military unit…”

Revan thought. Surely there must be some way around the stupid politics which surrounded the whole situation. The Council admitted now that they wanted to help… The only issue was getting them to overlook propriety and niceties long enough to take action and give their word.

“Surely there have been Jedi to help in past wars, even on a smaller scale, outside of the Great Sith Wars…?”

“Well,” one said, scratching his chin, “Occasionally they’ve joined one of the volunteer mercy corps as healers, but outside of that…. No, no, I can’t think of any specific cases…”

Revan’s heart leapt in her breast. A Jedi Mercy Corps… Maybe there was a chance after all…

“Has the Jedi Council ever denied a Jedi’s request to join such a mercy corps?” Revan asked the Council. The Council was somewhat confused by her question, but they did choose to humor her with an answer:

“A request to join the mercy corps has never been denied, no. During times of great destruction, there is always need for healers to take away the pain. It would be immoral for us to deny such a request…”

“Then I ask the Council for permission for the Revanchists to join the Republic Mercy Corps.”

The Masters glanced among the order. ‘Halin’ had never been much of a talent for healing. Her marks in the area were acceptable, but nothing beyond the basics. And while there were several talented healers among them, such as Opela and Fiolli, and even Ferroh to a lesser degree… the majority of the Revanchists were not primarily healers. No, no, they suspected that there must have been some sort of an ulterior motive behind Revan’s request.

They hesitated to respond. She had put them into a position of great conflict. While they strongly suspected that the nature of the Mercy Corps missions were not her primary intention… to deny the quest would go directly against their own morals. Halin had always been a clever girl, but Revan’s psychoanalysis of the situation was beginning to border on manipulation. Either they denied her request and proved to the onlooking galaxy Revan’s views of their hypocrisy… or they granted it at the risk of her overstepping those boundaries…

Master Vrook Lamar regarded the woman who called herself Revan with an expression of concern combined with admiration on his face. He’d always been warry of her rebellious nature when she was training at the Academy on Dantooine, but these current issues… they were different than the ones he’d faced with her then. He knew that there was no alternative to granting her request. As they told her, a Jedi had never been denied the ability to serve on the Mercy Corps. However, he remained wary. He knew her well enough to know she wouldn’t change her mind about the Mandalorians. ‘Justice’ was the word she had used on Cathar upon taking up the mask which she wore now. However, Master Vrook understood from observing Jedi during the Great Sith War that all too often ‘Justice’ was confused with ‘Revenge.’

“The Jedi Council grants your request, Revan, to join the Republic Mercy Corps.”

Much to the woman’s surprise, it was Master Vrook Lamar who finally dared to speak up on the Council’s behalf. She could tell from his expression that he did not trust her, but respected him for realizing that he knew he could not deny her. However, he continued.

“We do, however, have conditions to granting you this permission.”

She knew it. She knew that there had to be some sort of catch to this.

“And pray tell what those conditions might be, Master Lemar?”

“You are to accept no more Padawans into the Revanchists. Any Padawans who have already joined you are to return to their Masters at once. You are also required to be under the command of a Republic officer during any and all missions under the banner of the Mercy Corps. And our final condition is that any major decisions involving Jedi activity in the Republic war effort, even under the banner of the Mercy Corps, must be brought before the Council first for approval.”

Revan thought about this proposal. It would mean that Nisotsa would be unable to return to them, and that Fiolli would have to leave. It would be a shame about Fiolli, since she was the best healer and pilot among them. But if they had a Republic escort now, there would be no necessity for pilots. These were losses she could manage. In regard to the second issue, it would be a matter of ensuring that the Republic officer in charge was sympathetic to their case, which was nothing beyond a bit of persuasion…. But the last clause… the last one was what made things tricky. The last one risked the effort being dragged to a stalemate due to the sticky backward nature of Jedi politics.

“May I ask what it is I’ve done to breed such distrust among you?” Revan asked the Council. “I have killed no one during this war, and neither have any of the others.” That is, as far as she was aware. True, Hazar had died because of her naïveté, and she’s nearly killed Demagol while trying to resist the Sith holocron when it was onboard…. But her hands remained clean of blood thus far. Though she’d never gotten all of the details from Malak about what happened aboard the Arkanian Legacy… She was still sour about the situation leading up to it, and so she tried to avoid bringing it up. Though perhaps… “And you cannot think that we would choose to deal in potentially system-devastating weapons. That’s simply ridiculous.”

“That’s not what the report from Admiral Karath states,” one Council member stated.

Ah, that’s right…. Malak did mention that he was there…

“And what did the reports say? I was not there. I wouldn’t know.”

“You weren’t there?”

“No. I was….” She searched her mind for the correct words to phrase what had happened. “Incapacitated,” was what she came up with. “Malak went in my stead.”

“We should have expected such,” Master Atris nearly hissed. “Sending your comrades in your place when the situation turns dangerous!”

Revan could feel her temples boiling beneath her mask. Her core felt unusually hot and seemingly burning from within. Her hands trembled. She couldn’t place what it was that she felt in that moment. It was so intense she had to mentally brace herself.

There is no emotion… There is no emotion…

But she could only brace herself against so much. “I never sent Malak on such an errand,” she said through her teeth. “In fact, I specifically ordered him not to go. He left for Lord Adasca’s flagship without my knowledge or permission.”

She leered at Master Atris from beneath her mask. The visibility from the visor was surprisingly good, considering the fact that no one could see in from the outside. She should have suspected so much though. After all, Mandalorians were warriors, and good visibility was a necessity when in the heat of combat, particularly for those unattuned to the Force.

The air was stiff, yet full of electricity, as if a great storm were brewing. Everyone present knew it. Everyone present felt it. The tension was high. Revan continued.

“I’ve done everything within my power to keep every member of this company safe, and while I deeply regret that there are those I have failed at protecting, to even suggest that I would do such a thing is simply beyond despicable! I care very deeply for Malak; I will not hide this. I would never knowingly place him in danger. I sent him to Suurja with the expectation that fighting had ceased and there was no military presence left from either side. And after the nameless tortures which he endured as a result, I have regretted it ever since. I tended to his wounds myself. His pain was my pain, and I felt dead knowing that I could have prevented it all…”

Her voice had become progressively choked with tears. Her words were genuine. Even the Council could not deny that. No one knew the words to respond to this. Even the Jedi were not so void of emotion that they could not understand remorse and pity.

Revan swallowed. She was becoming distracted. She could not risk this. She needed to focus on the goal at hand. “I accept the Council’s conditions,” she managed with what strength left to her voice that she could muster. “I do not know what you have heard of the Battle at Omonoth, or of the Arkanian Legacy, and perhaps you know more of what happened there than I know myself… and while I do not agree with Malak in his decision to undermine me and go on his own, I do trust him. I trust that he would not have done anything to mar the name of the Jedi. You trust him too—that much I can sense from all of you. What I don’t comprehend is why you distrust me.”

><><><><><

           Malak approached Revan as she exited the Council Chamber. He tried to catch her eye as she moved, but her hood was up and her mask downcast, as if deliberately trying to avoid eye contact with the world. The mask was like a shield. It did not let others in, and it did not let her expressions out.

He had been listening behind the door the entire time. He’d heard her conversation about the Mercy Corps… and about him. There was so much he needed to ask her about…

“Revan?” he said, calling to her softly. He humored her with the new name she had chosen. He had to admit that he did prefer it to the Revanchist. It seemed more like a name than a title, a bit more humanizing in that sense. It was also much easier to say. While he hated to admit it, a part of him never wanted to call her the Revanchist because it made him feel stupid trying to pronounce it correctly as he struggled to imitate her inflections in the Deralian tongue. But the main reason why he preferred Revan was in the context of her choice. The Revanchist was bred from the death of innocence—the death of Halin. Revan was bred from the determination of justice.

Justice….

That was the word she had used before, in her attempt to explain to him what it meant to be Revanchist…. Yet it seemed to bear more poignancy as Revan. If a Revanchist was, as she had told him before, one who serves justice to the innocent, then Revan must have been justice itself.

The woman stopped, exhaling a sigh as she did so. Somehow her victory in obtaining the support of the Council didn’t feel like a victory at all.

“We did it,” she said, not turning to him. “The Revanchists are now officially serving as a ‘Jedi Mercy Corps.’ We are to meet with the Republic at the Embassy at planetary noon tomorrow.”

“Why do I sense that you are unhappy?” The question was more of a formality. He’d heard most of the conversation from outside.

“They’ve imposed conditions on our involvement even within the Mercy Corps,” Revan stated, resuming her previous pace. Malak followed at her side. “I don’t understand why it is that they still do not trust me…”

“They feel threatened by you, Rev,” he said, tasting the feeling of it in his mouth. It wasn’t entirely bad. There was a certain mellifluous feeling as it danced on his tongue, the fricative leaving a lingering vibration on his lips. His abbreviation of the name caused her to stop again in confusion. Malak had not been anticipating this, and found he had to turn back around to face her after having stepped too far ahead. Unsure if he had offended her, he quickly continued speaking, as if in an attempt to retract the thing. “They’re not used to having someone counteract their logic or point out their flaws. They are threatened by you because you think for yourself…”

The woman sighed. Malak half expected her to correct him of her newly chosen name, but she did no such thing. She was silent again. Malak wondered what his friend and Master was thinking. She had always been quite careful about her own mental blocks and was elusive to those who tried to read her. The mask only deepened the elusion, for her face was now unreadable as well…

Finally, he dared to ask her the question that was really on his mind after what he had heard: “I’m… dear to you?”

The mask looked up at him, and he wondered what expression shone in the blue-grey eyes which lie underneath. He reached out slowly, as if to lift the mask and meet her eyes beneath, but she raised a hand and turned her face away.

“I’ve said too much already… We should find the others. They should know about the shift in operations. Xaset Terep will be free to rejoin us also, should he choose. I’ll break the bad news to Fiolli personally. She has served with honor as a Revanchist…”

Revan continued walking.

‘She’s avoiding my question,’ Malak thought. It seemed to have struck a nerve with her, like whatever it was that she was refraining from telling him was something that she had yet to even fully admit to herself…

Maybe it was for the better though. There is no emotion, there is peace… It would only serve as a distraction from their mission. He decided to drop it for the moment. It would be best for everyone if they focused on the goal at hand.

><><><><><

Revan regarded the strange-looking man who had been there to meet them at the Republic embassy. Captain Telettoh had goldish-pinkish hair similar in color to the juice of cloudberries from Bakura, which he kept clipped very short in a typical military fashion. His nose and mouth were rather wide-set for a human male, and his eyes were difficult to distinguish beneath the sheen of his glasses. It made the woman wonder if he could even see at all, given their nearly opaque appearance. A blind military officer would have been laughable… except for the fact that he was in charge of the Mercy Corps. There was no combat he would need to see.

Revan sat alone with the Captain and with Malak in the Embassy. The other Revanchists were enjoying the moment of respite before the movement returned to the Outer Rim. Revan couldn’t say that she blamed them for wanting to do such. After all, there wasn’t much to see in the Rim right now other than war-torn worlds and destruction… She had tried to convince Malak to do the same, but he refused to leave her, insisting that this was an important moment for their movement, and that he wanted to be a part of the conversation.

Despite his odd appearance, Revan found Captain Telettoh to be rather agreeable. She had learned from their conversation that there were, in fact, many military leaders among the Republic who had wanted involvement of the Jedi sooner.

Revan’s gaze was intense beneath her mask as she subtly probed the Captain’s mind while he was explaining the history of the Mercy Corps and their mission. She was trying to determine how receptive he would be to a change in tactics. While she was happy to finally be working in cooperation with the Republic directly, she needed to be certain that it wouldn’t cause additional political hoops she would be forced to jump through in order to make any sort of actual progress.

Her mind gently brushed against his, waiting to see if there would be any sort of a reaction. The Captain paused mid-sentence, scratching his head a moment as if he had lost his train of thought before he continued on. A small smile appeared on the masked woman’s lips. The man’s mind seemed susceptible enough. It was possible that this whole crazy plan might just work… Proceeding with caution, she went in further, slipping past his mind’s barriers.

There’s no reason for the Republic to limit the Jedi’s aid to them.

“There’s no reason for the Republic to limit the Jedi’s aid to them,” Captain Telettoh continued.

It would be a waste of available resources to use them only as healers

“It would be a waste of available resources to use them only as healers.”

Malak subtly glanced over at his companion with suspicion. He knew Jedi mind tricks when he saw them. He didn’t understand why she would even think of risking a thing like this now though. They’d only just gotten approval from the Council, and already she was risking them getting shut down by doing such a thing. He personally thought the act to be quite irresponsible, but he dared not speak up now, lest he risk her tactics being caught.

Revan continued.

There’s no need for you to tell the Jedi Council or the Republic media about our actions. All will remain in complete confidence.

“There’s no need for me to tell the Jedi Council or the Republic media about the Revanchists’ actions. All will remain in complete confidence, I assure you both.”

“Well then, Captain,” she said aloud, “I thank you for your trust in the matter. You have been most agreeable. We shall do our best not to disappoint the Republic.”

She stood, bowing politely in a gesture to take leave. “It has been a pleasure, Captain Telettoh.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Jedi Revan and Jedi Malak. I look forward to working alongside the Revanchists when our task force leaves Coruscant.”

The two groups parted ways. It was only after they had left the embassy that Malak dared to address Revan about what had happened in their meeting.

“What were you thinking!? What if something had gone wrong—”

“His mind was weak, susceptible,” Revan replied plainly. “It was not an uncalculated risk, I assure you. I had been testing the malleability of his consciousness ever since our arrival…”

“But why? Our meeting at all was already a step forward.”

“One step forward isn’t progression if it’s followed by two steps backward. We’ve been at this far too long already with nearly nothing to show for result. I will not have our next eight months be just as unproductive as the first… It’s better this way. If the Captain will not report our actions, then we are free to move as necessary in order to end this war.”

><><><><><

It was one of the first truly successful battles of the war for the side of the Republic. The Mandalorians had been slowly shifting their route on conquest and turning inward toward the Core Worlds of the Republic. The Mandalorian forces had attempted a sort of pincer movement by capturing Ithor and Iridonia, however, in a second battle at Iridonia, the Republic had managed to liberate the Iridonian system from Mandalorian control.

The Republic needed this victory. Their war efforts thus far had been met with little to no success, and the Mandalorian front was gradually closing inward on Republic space over the past year of fighting since the Republic had first entered the war. With all of their resources and trained soldiers, the thing that the Republic was lacking was the Mandalorians’ almost fanatical views of honor in battle. Every action was for the glory of battle, for the thrill of meeting an opponent and facing them to the death.

It was largely these views that made the Mandalorians so ruthless in their conquests. Try as they may, the Republics tactics could not seem to effectively counter the warrior race. At Iridonia, the Republic had been lucky enough to have the aid of the Zabraks in repelling them.

But Iridonia and Ithor were Mid-Rim systems. That the Mandalorian front had managed to progress this far at all was a startling realization in and of itself. When the Mandalorians had begun attacking unaligned planets in the Outer-Rim thirteen years prior, the Republic had not expected them to be a threat other than perhaps the occasional supply raid. However, what had resulted now because of their ignorance toward the situation had become potentially fatal to the very existence of the Republic.

><><><><><

Jedi Master Arren Kae entered the Chamber of the Jedi High Council on Coruscant. Her nearly white blonde hair hung gently over her shoulders like a crest of gold-rimmed clouds atop the olive and chestnut forest of her robes. Her dark blue eyes seemed as deep as the sea. She was an attractive woman to be sure, but an even more deadly warrior should she choose.

The woman had spent much time among the Echani people, a race of near-humans originally from Eshan who were widely regarded for their swordsmanship and mastery of unarmed combat. For the Echani, the only way to truly know a person was through combat. To them, communication best came through the exchange of motion in their ancient martial arts customs.

During her time among the Echani, Master Kae had learned much in the terms of their battle techniques. It was an ancient tradition, to know another through sparring—No weapons, no armor, no tools… only two bodies and two souls, their every motion speaking beyond the capability of words.

The woman stepped to the center of the Council Chamber and bowed in respect to the other Masters present who formed the Jedi Council. “The Council has requested my presence?” The woman asked them. She’d heard much recently regarding trouble with one of her former apprentices. She assumed that the reasoning for her summons had to do with this—that they would ask her to speak to the apprentice—but she knew that they were wasting their time if this was their purpose. While the Jedi Knight Halin Chan had always treated Kae with respect while under her tutelage, she had also always been quite independent. Miss Chan was a good-natured pupil though, and Master Kae was confident that her intentions matched this nature.

The Mandalorians and the Echani were very much alike in some ways, yet very different in others. Both were warrior races, feared by those who opposed them. But Mandalorians only sought conquest and the glory of battle. The Echani sought understanding through combat. As her former teacher, Master Arren Kae was confident that her former apprentice was closer to an Echani than to a Mandalorian.

But these things were not why the Council had requested her audience.

“The Council has been informed of some rather… disturbing news recently, and we wished to address you in person about the situation before coming to any of our own conclusions,” one of the Council members stated.

Master Kae furrowed her brow. The statement had been a confusing one to her. “What news is it that the Council has heard?” she dared to ask.

“A source, who has asked us to remain anonymous, has come to us recently with some rumors regarding your time spent on Eshan approximately eleven years ago,” they continued. “It is these rumors which we wish to discuss with you.”

“As you are well aware,” spoke another, “much has changed in our time as a result of the Great Sith War… Changes among the practices of the Jedi Order have been put into place for the purpose of avoiding the temptations which lead so many to yield to their passions and fall to the dark side during those difficult times.”

“Yes, I understand this,” Master Kae said to them. “Such changes were put into place with the best intentions for the future of the Jedi Order in mind. However, I must admit that I’m unsure what this has to do with my time on Eshan. As you know, I was stationed there to aid in diplomatic proceedings between the Echani and the Jedi Council. There were many young Echani who were sensitive to the Force that you wished to have sent to be trained and potentially join the rank of Padawan.”

“Yes, and we had you test a great deal of Echani children for Force-Sensitivity… Including the daughters of one of their generals… a General Yusanis, if I recall correctly?”

A flicker of emotions briefly rippled over Master Arren Kae’s naturally calm demeanor, but she regained her composer so very quickly that the only way one could have noticed would have been if they had been looking for such a thing in advance.

“Yes,” Master Kae replied. “He had five daughters, though I did not sense that any of them had any talent in the ways of the Force…”

“His sixth daughter wouldn’t have been born at that point, I suppose… Like but unalike to her sisters, the child bears the face of her mother… Your face, Master Kae. Do you deny this?”

Master Kae’s eyes were as deep as the sea, lost in reflection of the past. She remembered General Yusanis fondly. He was an expert in combat, and the two of them had sparred often while she was on Eshan. He was one of the finest dualists among the Echani, and his children were among those that the Jedi Council hoped to have tested for the potential of becoming Jedi.

While all five had failed the tests that Master Kae had given to them, her interactions with the General had continued through the entirety of the duration of her stay on Eshan. He was fierce and masterful in the way he moved in combat. She had learnt much of the Echani and their traditions from him. Their martial arts, their traditions of honor… he had even shared with her some Echani poetry, though it caused her to understand why they preferred poetry in motion to the use of words.

To the Echani, words were clumsy things. The only true expression of a person could be achieved through the own dance of their body in hand to hand combat. It was a communication so pure to them that they felt it could be used to truly understand another’s soul. It was through combat that she had come to know the soul of the Echani General… and through combat that he had come to learn hers. Such had been the case on the occasion in which the two had consummated what they had come to understand as love.

It had been after a particularly intense sparring session. As tradition mandated, there were to be no weapons, no shields, no armor… only warrior against warrior, flesh against flesh… The two were an equal match, the intensity of their attacks showing the respect they held for one another. There was no restraint, no hesitation, only pure, unadulterated motion. Poetry in motion. A dance in the duel. A duet spun of martial art. The intensity climaxed until there was nothing left but the two of them. Warrior and Warrior. Man and Woman…

“Master Kae?”

The Council Chamber had grown silent waiting for her response. Master Arren Kae swallowed, bringing her thoughts back to the present.

“I do not deny this… The child bears my face because I am the child’s mother.”

“You understand that such things have been forbidden among the Jedi Order, Master Kae?”

“I do,” she said simply. While she had hoped otherwise, she’d always known that it would be impossible for her to hide the situation forever. She had not personally seen the child since soon after it was born. Yusanis had begged her to leave the child to him on Eshan in order to avoid the punishment of the Jedi Council and a scandal among the Echani political scene.

“Then you understand that we are left with no choice,” the Council continued. “Arren Kae, the Jedi Council finds you guilty of knowingly yielding to your own passions and defying the Council’s mandates proceeding the Great Sith War. It is with deep regret that we are forced to expel you from the Order and must ask that you relinquish your lightsaber.”

Silently, Arren Kae closed her eyes and bowed respectfully in acceptance of the Jedi Council’s decree. She removed the hilt of her saber from her belt, her hand lingering there for a moment, as if to reflect upon the way that it felt so that she might clearly remember it later, and laid it in the center of the chamber before turning and exiting in silence. For the Echani, there was more spoken in movement than in words. And for Arren Kae, there was more spoken in silence. Motion, simple and pure, filled a void of connotation which words could not.

><><><><><

In every war, there were tragedies on both sides. However, there were times when true tragedies came to a side from within themselves. Much was at unrest within the Jedi Order on Coruscant. While the dispute with the Revanchists movement had been largely settled, problems which had lurked in the shadows for some time now were finally beginning to come to light.

The truth had finally come out as to what had happened during the Padawan Massacre on Taris near the start of Republic entry into the war. As it turned out, the Masters in charge of the Jedi Spire there had a collective vision that they believed to be a sign one of their Padawans would turn to the Dark Side and become a Sith Lord that would destroy them all… and so they had chosen to kill the Padawans in an attempt to prevent that from happening.

What they hadn’t anticipated was that one of the Padawans, Master Lucian Draay’s, would survive the massacre, and so the poor thing ended up as the scapegoat, having the whole blame of the situation put on him. Consequentially, the Padawan, Zayne Carrick, had been on the run ever since, trying to clear his name. The situation had brought him to Coruscant.

One thing led to another and the situation culminated with a servant of the Draay estate overriding the weapons systems to a Republic command ship in orbit and firing on the planet below. As it turned out, it was the servant, a failed Padawan, who had been corrupted by the dark side and had begun amassing his own following of Dark Jedi who had been loyal to the Draay Family Estate. When the weapons had been fired on the planet, the Council and several of the Masters and Knights at the Temple had immediately swarmed the scene of the Draay Estate in order to put down the Dark Side uprising.

Needless to say, Master Lucian Draay was expunged from the Council and from the Jedi Order. The wanted charges for the Padawan Zayne Carrick had been dropped and the involvement of the Draay family had been covered in order to keep the reputation of Krynda Draay, who had been one of the greatest Seers and teacher of Seers within the Order, and who had died after being removed from the stasis tank in which the rogue servant had placed her. The official account released to the press was that Mandalorians had hacked the fleet’s weapon systems and launched an attack on the estate, hoping to blind the Jedi and the Republic. The Jedi Order was very thorough about coving up any potential scandals.

><><><><><

When Revan had heard the news of the expulsion of her former Master, Arren Kae, from the Jedi Order, she had determined that she needed to find the woman before the Revanchists were to leave again for the War. The recent events at the Draay Estate there on Coruscant had caused chaos and disruption among the Jedi there, and the Order and the Republic alike were scrambling for a coverup of the incident, blaming much of the damage on ‘Mandalorian hackers.’ Personally, Revan thought that the notion was ridiculous, and didn’t see how anyone would buy it. After all, the method would have been very un-Mandalorian, but the general population did not know anything of the Mandalorians’ views of honor in battle.

The first place that Revan had thought to seek her former teacher was a public garden that the Master had been quite fond of on the Coruscant skywalk. She had personally preferred it to the Meditation Gardens at the Jedi Temple. While the meditation gardens were peaceful, the skywalk garden provided a view that was unparalleled. It sat atop one of the tallest spires in the planet-wide city and allowed visitors to see for miles in every direction on a clear day, or to sit among the clouds themselves on one less so.

That particular day was moderately cloudy. The atmosphere was thinner here due to the altitude, and so it behooved one to remain calm and breathe deeply in order to avoid a lack of oxygen. Master Kae had brought her here many times to meditate, but also for teaching what Revan had learned of Echani dueling. Her reasoning was that, when the air was so much thinner, the body was forced to perform at maximum efficiency in order to not tire out too quickly. One must retain supreme focus and remain true to their body, as was the goal in the Echani martial arts—a pure expression of the body through movement.

She found Master Kae seated on the white stone pavement beneath a tree, deep in meditation, when she approached her.

“Master Kae? May I join you?” Revan asked her.

“You may join me, though I’ve no right to let you call me ‘Master,’” the woman said, her eyes still closed, though she recognized the voice and presence of her former student. “Call me Arren.”

“Arren then,” the younger woman said, sitting facing the former Jedi Master.

“I hear you’ve taken upon a new name yourself, my former apprentice… ‘Revan’ is what they call you now, is it not?”

Revan swallowed past a lump in her throat. She could not help but to feel guilty for Arren Kae’s current predicament.

“….Master Kae, I’m so sorry…”

“Arren,” she corrected. “And there’s no reason for you to apologize to me. I’d always known that there would be a time when this day would come. That I would not be able to hide Brianna forever…”

“But thirty years ago, you wouldn’t have needed to hide anything—and you shouldn’t now…”

“Much has changed since that time, Revan. The Council has done what they have in an attempt to prevent future generations from falling to the darkness the way that so many did then. Whether I agree with their methods or not is unimportant.”

“The timing and severity of all of this though… I cannot help but to think that their punishment was provoked by the emergence of the Revanchist movement… You were my teacher…”

“As were several of the Council Members themselves at one point or another. Master Tokare, Master Dorak, Master Lestin… You had many teachers, Revan. I was but one. You cannot blame yourself for my being outcast.”

A silence passed between the two, the faint hum of air speeders buzzing in the distance from the traffic lanes below. In retrospect, the garden was a rather strange place. It was like a little Eden hidden away from the glitz and the grit that formed Coruscant. Below them, crime lords and politicians alike were at work. People from hundreds of races moved about their daily lives. A crew worked to hastily repair the damages that, according to official media outlets, were caused by ‘Mandalorian hackers.’ And the Jedi went about in their Temple, teaching, meditating, debating politics… But here there was none of that. Here, there was only the sky, the two of them, and their own thoughts and reflections.

“You said her name was Brianna?”

“Yes,” Arren replied, opening her eyes finally. “My own mother’s name.”

“I must say… I don’t quite understand… The rules of attachments have been in place since before I was born… what does it… feel like?”

“To be a mother?... Or to fall in love?”

“Both, I suppose…”

Arren Kae smiled at her pupil’s question. “I’m afraid I’m not a very good example of a mother… I’ve not seen Brianna since she was only a few months old… But I know that she is safe. A mother can sense these things. Such is the bond with her child… She’s ten now. She’s on Eshan with her father and his family…”

Revan was beginning to realize how very little she actually knew of her former Master’s life. She had always been all-business as a pupil, not just while with Kae, but in general, seeking to gain as much knowledge and experience as she could possibly absorb. While she had been an apprentice to many, it would have been a stretch for her to claim that she was truly a friend of any of them.

“But surely the Jedi must have sensed something before,” Revan said, “when you were with child.” She’d not encountered many pregnant women before, but in those she had, it was possible to sense the new life growing within the Force. It would have been difficult for the Jedi not to sense sooner.

“I had help,” Arren said.

“From whom? From other Jedi?” Revan could see no other way that anyone could have helped with such a thing.

“From the Mak’Tor,” the former Master explained. Revan had heard of the Mak’Tor on Coruscant, but she didn’t know anything of them other than the name. Kae continued: “They are great healers, and while they are in the Jedi, they are not of the Jedi. I went to them during my pregnancy. They were willing to help me keep my secret… Brianna was born here, on Coruscant. I come to them hoping for help with my rather precarious situation.”

“And they were able to hide your pregnancy?”

“Yes… The healer I had approached—I’ll never forget her—took my case to someone the Mak’Tor referred to as a ‘Master Singer.’ They’re quite a curious group. Their views of the Force are different from what the Jedi are traditionally taught. I asked once to Ta’Lona’Mack (that was her name) to explain it to me…. She described the Force as a song…”

Revan could not help but to laugh at the notion. “I’m sorry… but a song?”

“Yes,” Kae said, quite seriously. “They listen for a song, a sort of undercurrent symphony to all the universe… Some of the Mak’Tor, such as the Master Singer I mentioned, are able to use this song, often for healing rituals…”

“And this healer… this ‘Master Singer’… did they… sing to you?” Revan had to admit, she was puzzled by the concept. It seemed a bit silly… but, then again, the Force manifested itself in many strange and logic-defying ways. Who was to say it was beyond possibility for these people to hear it as a song? The Miraluka could see. And though the concept was different from what she could understand, why should the Mak’Tor not hear?

“Not exactly,” Arren explained. “The Master Singer presented the healer with a crystal, which she gave to me and told me to keep with me at all times… I’m afraid that I don’t fully understand the finer mechanics of how the remedy worked, but the crystal dampened the appearance of my unborn child in the Force.”

And with these words, a smile crept its way to Arren Kae’s lips. She rested a hand on her abdomen, as if fondly remembering the time.

“I decided that the best way to keep the crystal with me would be to incorporate it into my lightsaber… which I did. So in a way, Brianna has always been with me through these ten years…” Her face fell. “Though the Council asked me to relinquish my lightsaber when they cast me from the Order. I’m afraid the crystal will remain lost to me now.”

Revan felt it was only now that she was beginning to learn anything of the person whom former Master Arren Kae was and had been. She wondered though about her former Master… She pitied the woman. Only thirty years prior, the ‘crimes’ for which she was being punished were not crimes at all. And how, she was deprived of the life she had known, of her home, and of the only remnant she carried of her own child.

“You know, Arren… if you need a place to stay, you’re more than welcome among the Revanchists… It cannot be easy for you to have lost so much so suddenly… Most of the others have chosen to stay at the Temple while we are on Coruscant, but I’ve been staying with the ship we’ve been using… It’s not much, but you’re welcome to call it ‘home’.”

“Thank you,” the elder woman said softly. “It’s kind of you to offer, but I wouldn’t want to be a burden to your cause.”

“You wouldn’t be a burden. You could join us… Help us to stop the Mandalorians and to save the Republic… I don’t know what your thoughts are on the matter… But I know that you would be an incredible asset and a wise guide to our group. The Revanchists…. Well… We are young. We lack your experience…. You have every right to refuse my offer, but… we need your help, Arren Kae…. I need your help.”

Revan had realized since their movement began that there were difficulties in leadership beyond coordination and protection. She needed a mentor. She needed someone to teach her to assume the role herself.

“Your offer is quite tempting,” Arren Kae admitted. “but you don’t need my help.”

The younger woman looked at the other hopefully, but the expression was hidden beneath the cold and unwavering metal of the mask. “Please. It would bring me much ease to have you there for guidance….”

And while her expressions were not visible, Kae smiled at Revan, understanding the hopefulness in her words and in her aura. “I will consider then,” she stated. “After all, I still owe you an explanation to your second question… though I sense now is not the appropriate time. I wish to meditate a bit longer. I will meet you on this ship later on.”

“Thank you, Master Kae,” Revan said.

“Arren,” she corrected with a smile. “You should rest too. There will be a long journey ahead once the Revanchists leave Coruscant. Perhaps on the way, I can tell you more of Yusanis… that was his name.”

Revan nodded silently and stood. “Docking platform 32, the Stalwart Nightingale… Thank you, Arren. I look forward to hearing your explanation.” And with this, Revan left her former Master in the skywalk garden, the gentle moisture of the clouds dampening her robes and bathing them both in a soft mist as they parted ways.

><><><><><

           Malak had a different aura to him the next time that Revan saw him on Coruscant. Demagol had finally woken from his coma and was being put on trial. Given Malak’s experiences with the scientist on Flashpoint, the court had asked him to testify as to what had happened. The Force seemed to burn around him in a way that Revan had never seen before. Beyond the difference in the force, he was physically different too. Blue tattoos lined the entirety of his scalp. She’d remembered him mentioning the thought of getting them to cover the scars he had as a result of Demagol’s procedures, however, she’d assumed it had been a joke when he had said it.

           The sudden changes disturbed Revan in a way that she had not anticipated. What remained of Alex had been burned away. What was left in its place was only Malak. It was strange, really, that it disturbed her so, given the changes which had occurred in herself since the time of the Revanchists. But Malak… Somehow he had always managed to keep an air to him that had reminded her of their time at the Academy on Dantooine. He’d always been the optimist of the two and a sort of positivity radiated through him even when situations seemed at their worst. She supposed that this was why she was generally happier when he was around.

           She debated whether to approach him about the situation directly or let him come out with it on his own. She didn’t have to wait long though. Malak slammed a fist on the hull of the Stalwart Nightingale. Rage. This was the emotion, the aura, that seemed to burn around him. It terrified Revan. She’d seen nothing approaching it from him before. He had always been better at controlling his emotions than she was. For him to be like this… Something must have happened at the trial…

           “Escaped!” he shouted. “I don’t know how it happened, but that monster escaped!”

           “Escaped?” Revan repeated quizzically. How could Demagol have escaped from Republic custody during the trial?

           “The court entered recess and when the recess adjourned he was gone! It looked as if someone had switched places with the guards.”

           Malak slammed a fist against the hull again, and Revan could not help but to flinch. It was so very unlike him. “Malak calm down…”

           “I should have let you kill him rather than us taking him back to Coruscant! I should never have stopped you!”

           “Alex…” she said, hoping to try a different approach to the situation.

           Malak laughed ironically. “Alex is dead, Revanchist! Surely you knew that already. Just like Halin is. Dead and gone!”

           The term sounded so vulgar when he had said it, as if he had called her by some obscene profanity. It would seem as if trying to appeal to him as Halin wouldn’t work this time…

           “You’re not thinking rationally,” she insisted. “You need to calm down.”

           “You of all people are telling me to calm down!?”

           “Yes! Yes, I am! Malak, stop it! This isn’t like you! The Republic authorities must already have people hunting him back down. Demagol is a war criminal and they will not allow him to just be taken like that!”

           “I’ll hunt him down myself!”

           “We don’t have time for this. The Revanchists have more important matters to be attending to in this war…”

           “He slaughtered a Padawan, Revan, and tortured and mutilated me! You should have killed him!”

           “But I didn’t. You stopped me. You saved me from my anger and confusion then. It’s my job now to do the same for you.” She came behind him, resting a hand on his back. At first he tensed, but then slowly softened into her touch. “I promise everything will turn out right in the end. The authorities will find him and Demagol will be brought to justice…”

           He didn’t answer her, but at least he seemed much calmer now. She stood there, her hand resting on his back for some time before she continued. “I see you finally got those tattoos you were talking about,” she commented, hoping to lighten the situation. “I didn’t think that you were serious about it…. It suits you.”

           Malak gave a single laugh. “You think so?”

           “Yes, it brings out your eyes.”

           “Now I know that you’re lying to me….”

           “No, I mean it. You look nice… I think it’s good for you… Good for you to help you to move on… to ignore the scars of the past… and I don’t just mean the physical ones.”

           He turned to look at her, hoping to meet her eyes, but found the red and silver gleam of a Mandalorian mask instead. He had forgotten for a moment, and his heart fell. He’d hoped for a reaction from her. He honestly had… He remembered the way she lit up with laughter when he had half-jokingly mentioned the idea to begin with. He’d had it done before the trial had started, and had hoped, as she’d deciphered, that it would help him to move on from the events of Flashpoint Station… But with the order of events since they’d arrived on Coruscant, his emotions had been a twisted web of confusion, and he no longer knew how to feel about Flashpoint, about Demagol, or about his closest friend.

“Thanks,” he said flatly. “I’m glad you approve…”

><><><><><

Master Dorjander Kace was a former member of the High Council of the Jedi Order and one of the last surviving members to have actively fought in the Great Sith War. He was in a unique position among the Jedi in his personal experience with the Mandalorians. After all, he was captured by them early on during the war and held prisoner for most of the time. It was during the period of his capture and confinement that his perspective on the Mandalorians began to shift.

He hadn’t taken the Revanchist movement seriously until very recently. After all, they were just a bunch of children, really. Children with a vision of what they perceived as heroism. They were nothing he considered concerning himself over until recently. Recently, after a confrontation by several Jedi Masters in which all present had witnessed a great massacre on the planet Cathar, there was a little weight gained to their movement.

It was after this vision that the Council had begun to cooperate with them… And it was after this vision that Dorjander Kace had left the Jedi High Council. He stood now with three former Padawans of his, now knights: a Faleen Female named Jaska, a Cathar Female named Veskasa, and a Chagrian Female named Sabawyn.

Master Dorjander Kace had decided that it was time. It was time for him to make his own point known in this war. It was time for him to stop watching and to use what he knew in order to bring about true justice. And under the circumstances, he knew his only hope would be to join the Revanchists.

“We’re ready, Master Kace,” Jaska said. “We all share you’re your vision, your ideal… We all know what must be done. We are ready to serve.”

“Excellent,” he said. “These Revanchists as they call themselves may be our only hope in the matter. Remember your training. They mustn’t suspect our true motives for joining. Par tor!”

“Par tor!” all three repeated. And four coppery-orange blades ignited, all joining one another.

“Our time,” Master Kace said, “is now!”

><><><><><

While Revan had expected there to be new recruits after the Council had sanctioned their request to join the Republic Mercy Corps, she had not expected there to be so many wishing to join the Revanchists. It was a bit overwhelming, really. Even excluding Arren, there were ten new recruits in total—more than enough to make up for their lost numbers after Fiolli and Nisotsa were forced to leave. Xaset had also chosen to rejoin them.

The new recruits were quite a varied bunch. There were a couple of Zabraks who had decided to join after the Mandalorians had attacked the Iridonia system—Acaadi, and Duqua Dar, both Guardian Knights. There were humans, too—two males by the name of Cale Berkona, and Voren Renstaal, and a female by the name of Cariaga Sin. There was even an Ithorian among them by the name of Thuggjomlern Din! What was possibly the most surprising of all, however, was the presence of Jedi Master Dorjander Kace and three of his former Padawans who had all become Knights—a Faleen Female, a Cathar Female, and a Chagrian Female.

The whole thing made Revan’s heart flutter with excitement that so many had been inspired to take up the cause. With numbers and with the support of the Republic, they would finally be able to start making an impact in the war effort, even if it was under the banner of the Mercy Corps.

There were sixteen of them now in total, all gathered around to discuss further course of action. “I’ve spoken with Captain Telettoh, our liaison with the Republic while members of the Jedi Mercy Corps,” Revan told them all. We are to set out in one week’s time. The Republic is providing transport aboard several of their hammerhead class cruisers. We are likely to be divided and sent to different areas of troops depending on where Jedi support is needed. If that is the case, you will be serving under whatever Republic officer is in charge of the company you are supporting. Even so, you are to report progress back to me on a regular basis. I’ll need to submit a report to Council of our actions on a regular basis.”

The last part was half true. The Council did want to keep tabs on them, but if Revan were to report the information herself rather than have it channel through Republic feeds, she would better be able to control what information they received. After all, they couldn’t risk any provocation of the Council to try to shut them down again. They had to keep this as clean as possible, particularly until they were able to gain momentum, if they were to survive as a unit.

“In one week,” she continued, “We are to meet with Captain Telettoh at the Embassy to head out. Are there any questions?”

“I have one.”

It was Malak who had spoken. Curious, Revan turned to him. “Yes, Malak?”

She really did think that the tattoos really were becoming on him, even if he had insisted it was only a lie to try to cheer him up at the time. While the change had startled her after the trial, he had started becoming surer of himself. He was more opinionated since they had first formed the Revanchists. She assumed that it had developed out of necessity, when he had been on charge on Flashpoint, and when he had been forced to step into command temporarily after the destruction of Serrocco had left her incapacitated.

“There are so many new faces among us… how can we be certain they will truly be loyal to our cause?”

There was a glint in his eyes which told her everything. He was referring to the understanding the new recruits were likely to have of the situation of being labeled as ‘Mercy Corps.’ The question was whether they were there as Revanchists, or as Mercy Corps. It was a fair concern, and it wasn’t exactly something that could be just blurted out… Not yet, at least.

“I don’t know that they will be,” Revan stated simply. “However, I’m willing to give each of them the benefit of the doubt … for the time being, at least. I tell all of you now, just as I have told the first Revanchists before, our mission will not be an easy one, and it is possible that none of us will return from it. If there is any doubt in your mind about being here, then you should leave now, while you still have the chance. I give you the week to reflect upon whether this is what is truly within your hearts. If there is any doubt by the time it comes to leave, then I request that you remain on Coruscant, understanding that this is not the path for you. I have no further statements for you. Revanchists, I shall see you in one week’s time. May the Force be with you.”

><><><><><

��                      All was black. All was still. There was nothing. There was no light. There was no sound. There was no smell. There was only the darkness. It was so very dark. Revan could feel her heart racing, her breath rising and falling heavily. There was something else there with her.

           Betrayal…

           She frantically looked around, but there was still nothing but blackness. Her senses failed her, but a presence remained in the Force. Something else was there. Something so powerful that it could have swallowed her whole.

           She thought she felt a breath, cold and stale, close to her ear and quickly spun around to meet it but found nothing. She swallowed hard, her eyes frantically darting across the dark void, but to no avail.

           “A traitor…”

           The voice!

           She swiftly drew her lightsaber, its deep purple hue illuminating her own face, for her mask was not here… but the darkness remained simply darkness. She could see nothing else but her blade and herself.

           “Who is there?” She managed. “Who are you? Why are you following me?”

           She could feel herself shivering. She felt unusually cold. A sense of dread began to fill her. At first, there was no reply.

           “Answer me!” she demanded, more forcefully this time. “What are you doing in my head? You’re not welcome here. Get out—now!”

           This time, the deep laughter came from before and Revan’s shivering had turned to trembling.

           “So many traitors among you,” the voice said. “I truly wonder… are there any you can actually call your friend?”

           Revan shifted her form from Shii-Cho to a Makashi, her eyes still darting frantically about the surrounding blackness. “I’m warning you,” she said. “Leave now!”

           “Or what? Dear child, I thought you enjoyed games…”

           Before Revan knew what was happening, she was falling through the blackness and landed squarely on a hard marble surface. She could make out some figures now. The floor was large ebony and ivory checkers and she was surrounded by strange-looking statues in the same colors and material. She quickly got back up and resumed her form, but noticed that, strangely, her cloak and her robes had turned to white, and she wore pieces from the Deralian armor which Talon had gifted to her.

           She looked around for the source of the voice but could find nothing. No one…. Upon closer observation of her surroundings, she found that she was in the middle of what appeared to be a very large game board resembling those that would be used for Chess, or for Shah-Tezh.

           ‘What sort of strange place is this?...’ She wondered.

           “Your mind!”

           The voice came loud and clear from directly behind her, so suddenly and with such force that she could not help but to give a startled cry. It was answering the question which she’d been certain she’d not voiced aloud. Swiftly, she spun around in time to see one of the statues moving rapidly toward her. Without time to move out of the way, she swung, slicing cleanly across the center. Oddly, the statue shattered and then vanished into a puff of smoke, as if it had never been there to begin with.

           “A Queen,” the voice continued. “Most fitting… I should have suspected so much.”

           “Whoever you are, I’ve had enough of your mind games!”

           “But I’m only getting started, Revan. Why won’t you play a few rounds with me?”

           Another piece came, this time from her left. With more time to react, she leapt out of its way and attacked from behind, this time at a one o’clock angle. Again, the statue vanished. A cold sweat began to form on her temples. She maintained her form, standing ready to attack again.

           “I said enough!”

           “I’m afraid that choice isn’t yours to make, child…”

           “I’m not a child! I am a Jedi Knight, and I will bring peace to the Republic!”

           The voice laughed maniacally, and Revan turned frantically, still searching for its source.

           “Silly girl, not a Knight, but a Queen… And one who should be prudent, lest the true Knight betray her to be used as a sacrificial piece….”

           Suddenly it hit her. The game that they were playing… If she could win the game, then perhaps she could free herself of the voice. She sprinted across the board, but it seemed oddly larger than it should have been, as if there were no end on any side of it.

           “…for in the end,” the voice continued, “even if the Queen is the most powerful, all pieces exist only to defend the King…”

           Revan stopped short, something was approaching her from the darkness, cloaked in black and red with a hood covering its head. Whatever it was, this thing was not a statue as the other pieces had been. She held her blade ready to strike on the offensive.

           The full cloaked figure came into view now, the amethyst light from her saber reflecting back on her from the glinting metal of its armor. Slowly, the figure lifted its hood, and when it did, Revan went pale.

           She was not sure what she had expected to see when the figure revealed itself, but what it was she could not have prepared herself for. For there, staring back at her, was her own face! The eyes of the reflection gleamed a yellowed amber, and the lips were drawn in a blood-red smirk. Revan staggered backward a few steps, her breathing becoming increasingly labored.

           The reflection drew its own saber, the gleaming red piercing through the darkness. In the background, the hollow laughter of the voice loomed around them. Revan could feel it pounding within her skull. She wanted desperately for it to stop. The sound was maddening. She tried to close her senses to it, but it didn’t pay at the time to block any alertness. For the moment she did, the reflection advanced with alarming speed.

           Revan didn’t have time enough to react and parry or block the attack. She felt a piercing burn in her abdomen as the reflection lunged forward with a stab, those glinting yellow eyes staring into her own, and she cried out in pain. She felt dizzy, the world around her becoming a haze, the smell of burnt flesh hanging strong and present in the air…

><><><><><

“Revan!”

Arren Kae was holding her former pupil in her arms and attempting desperately to shake her awake. She had been thrashing about in her sleep and had suddenly screamed, as if in intense pain. The sudden sound had woken both Arren and Malak, who were the only others aboard the Stalwart Nightingale at the time and they had both rushed to see what had happened. When they found her, Revan was pale as death, the mask laying on the ground beside her bunk. She was convulsing and that was when Kae had restrained her in order to prevent her from injuring herself.

“Revan, wake up,” the former Jedi Master repeated, this time holding a hand over the younger woman’s face and applying pressure to the temples and mid-brow.

Revan’s eyes fluttered open and she immediately began sobbing in pain. It had all felt so real! So agonizingly real…

“Shhh…” Arren said. “It was only a nightmare…”

“No,” Malak said. “No, I’ve seen her like this before. She’s been having these strange visions. She doesn’t know how to control them… I keep telling her she needs to get help, but she refuses to listen to me!”

Kae shook her head and placed a hand on either of Revan’s cheeks, brushing them gently with her cheeks. “Calm down now… Tell us what happened. Tell us what you saw…”

“The voice…” It was all that she could manage to say before the pain overwhelmed her again and she cried out, clutching the place where the reflection’s blade had pierced her.

Arren frowned. “Are you injured? Show me…” she pried Revan’s hands from the spot in order to check for any sort of a wound. While there did not appear to be any physical damage, the place was unusually hot—burning even. She didn’t know what to make of it. “I don’t see any external injuries, but perhaps there’s something internal… here.”

Arren Kae closed her eyes, concentrating deeply until a blue-green glow began to emit from her hands. She passed them over the place that Revan had previously been clutching at. Whatever it was that the younger woman had seen in her vision appeared to have been attempting to manifest itself to the outside.

Arren turned to Malak, hoping for more explanation. It was quite clear that her former apprentice would not be capable of answering much of anything for a bit of time still… “What is this voice?”

“I don’t know exactly,” Malak admitted. “She says it speaks to her during the visions… that sometimes it says terrible things she dares not to repeat… You don’t think that whatever it is might be causing all of this, do you?”

“It’s hard to say… I would need more information… You said that there have been other occurrences?”

“Yes, some more intense than others… I remember during our first visit to Cathar the timing of the vision coincided so closely to the destruction of Serrocco that the disturbance left her struggling for basic motor functions for over a week after… Other times she would mix up the visions with reality. She attacked the Scientist Demagol when he was aboard and unconscious as our prisoner while we transported him to Coruscant to go into Republic custody.” Malak reflected bitterly at the thought. He still hadn’t forgiven himself for stopping her. “I saw the situation from the security web and was able to intervene before she ended up killing him… I’ve never seen her in physical pain though. Out of breath or a bit nauseous, yes… but never like this.”

Revan’s breathing was finally beginning to slow to a more normal rate. Both Malak and Kae let out an audible sigh of relief. Revan groaned and attempted to sit up.

“Careful,” Kae said, assisting her in sitting. “You’re still quite weak. You seemed to be burning up from the inside….”

“It felt like I’d been impaled…”

“Impaled?” Malak repeated, rather confused. “What exactly happened?”

“It’s… difficult to describe… It was far more abstract than any of the visions I’ve told you of previously. I… I was a part of some sort of a game… A game of chess, it seemed. The voice was my opponent… But nothing that it said seemed to make any sense… I realized that the only way to get out would be to win the game… except I was a piece also… just a piece in some sort of a larger game…”

“A pawn?”

“No…. no, not exactly…”

“Then a Knight?”

“That’s what I had thought initially, but the voice claimed I was the Queen and that the true Knight would betray me as a sacrificial piece to protect the King… None of what it was saying made sense…”

“Did you ever find the King?”

“No… No, I found my opponent’s Queen…” Her eyes grew distant remembering the dark reflection of herself which she had witnessed within the vision. “It was the Queen who attacked me… who tried to kill me…” to protect the King!

“Did you see who the Queen was?” It was Kae who asked this time. She had a bad feeling about this. She had heard of experiences of Jedi being faced with similar instances during extreme cases of the Trial of the Spirit that was administered during the tests for a Padawan to gain the rank of Knight, or for a Knight to gain the rank of Master. It was sometimes referred to as ‘Facing the Mirror.’ She feared that this might have been what Revan was experiencing in a far more intense form than it had manifested itself during her trials… “Revan, please tell me…. I can’t help you if you won’t tell me what’s going on…”

Revan did not reply, unwilling to admit what she had seen. Unwilling to admit the dark version of herself with which she had been faced…

“I told you to get help,” Malak said. “There’s still time before we leave Coruscant…”

“From whom?” Revan said defensively. “I did consider it… seeking out the school of the seers here on Coruscant… But Krynda Draay is dead now, Malak. And without her, seers are few and far between…”

“I’m not a seer,” Kae said, standing and leaving Revan to sit on her own now, “but I do think that can help you… This voice… Is it in all of your visions?”

“Yes…”

“And how would you describe the voice? How does it sound?”

Revan considered it, shuttering at the memory. “It often seems as though it’s coming from inside my head itself… like I can’t shut it out… but often it creeps in, as if it has been there the entire time… I can never seem to locate exactly where it is coming from because it feels like it’s coming from everywhere at once…”

“And would you say it is the visions, or the voice that disturbs you?”

Revan thought about it. While many of the visions had been disturbing on her own, it was the voice which had filled her with more dread than the visions themselves. In fact, at times it seemed as though the voice were somehow controlling what would manifest itself within the vision…

“It’s the voice,” she said in reply.

“I see… well, the good news is that, if you’re willing, I think there’s a way that I can help you… at least to manage what is going on. I’m no seer, so I can’t help you to control the visions themselves… but I may be able to help you to block the sound of the voice…”

“I’m willing to try just about anything if it means that I can get the damned thing out of my head…”

“Do you recall what I told you of the Mak’Tor?”

“Of their song?” Revan almost scoffed.

“Don’t laugh, child. I’m too young to be your mother. Don’t force me to have to treat you like I am.”

“Sorry… Yes, I remember.”

“The healer I told you of… Ta’Lona’Mack’… When she told me of the explanation of the Song, and what it was to her people, I asked her if she could help me to try to hear… Guide me as she tried, I only ever heard a faint whiff of it…”

“I don’t see where you’re going with this…”

“I think that it could help you, Revan… If you can learn to hear the song as she described… then perhaps the sound of it would be enough to drown out the voice… or at least to distract from it. It seems from your description that it is the sound which bothers you so… If that’s the case, then perhaps your senses will be more receptive than my own to the Song… I’ve decided I’m coming with you and with the Revanchists. You will need guidance if you are to learn how to manage these visions… I can relay to you what I know and remember of Ta’Lona’Mack’s words. I sometimes use what little I can hear for meditative purposes… If you are willing to allow your old master to teach you once more.”

While Revan still wasn’t fully convinced of the idea, it was the only plausible help she’d found or been offered, and she knew that if the visions continued to progress like this, things would only get worse…

Revan beat a fist to her chest, bowing respectfully to Arren Kae. “I would be honored if you were to accept me as your apprentice once more.”  

#kotor #kotoredit #female revan #revan #revan malak #mandalorian wars #jedi exile #fanfic #star wars #revalek

[bushybeardedbear]

Season 8 of Saltron: Laughable Disappointment

What follows is a stream of consciousness as I watched the series.

The TLDR? I am glad it's finally over and will always miss what it should have been.

It's another long one. But, I think it's the last one on this topic...

Maybe I can finally get back to writing fics. Who knows...?

I use the word mess a lot.

So, episode one. Months have passed as usual. And somehow the population of Earth, all crammed into a single base on the planet have somehow been able to produce an animated series. Earth is devastated, but there's still the ability to make cartoons. Somehow. It's as though the writers needed to tick off a “reference to the old series” and have only just been able to cram it in. Global devastation, billions dead. But hey. Cartoons. Yet another example of Voltron not knowing what the hell it's own tone is. Are we a happy silly space adventure, or are we supposed to be a bleak look at the horrors of war? Are we selling kids books and toys or are we forcing our characters to deal with global devastation and the loss of their lovers? Let's be both and excel as neither.

And for a show that isn't about shipping? Gosh they've already dedicated a lot of time to it, haven't they? Allura, Lance and Lotor, all major focuses of the plot. Oh and it's nice to see Romelle doing what Romelle does. Info dumping about the colony. “Before the Galra can reorganize.” Well, sorry Keith but it's been Five Years. Remember that time skip? If at least one group of Galra hasn't reorganized in five years, that would be absurd. If only there was some hint that the Galra HAD reorganized. Like a giant robot. Using the same magitech as the druids and Honerva. I know that as the viewer we're privy to more information, but sometimes they make the characters painfully stupid as to what's going on in their own reality.

Oh boy. An entire episode devoted to finding Allura a date outfit. For Lance. The boy with a lifespan of 80-100 years max. Whilst she could live to be 800+. We going to cover that? I mean, we had time to emphasize Pidge's age. We going to touch Allura's age? No? Ok, fine. We'll ignore it shall we? Do the writers assume people are too stupid to remember the show's own lore...? And look. More references to the old show. Remember the old show? Nostalgia points. Hey Pidge, having some fun being yourself? Well, make sure you give up something you love to make the popular girl happy. Arguably again but, doesn't seem like anything previously established or hinted matters. Nice. And I guess we know the names of Lance's family. Along with a nice bit of tell don't show. Lance is all talk and bravado. It's good of you to tell us that. Can't expect people to figure it out organically through storytelling.

And the only way they could figure out Honerva was behind a robeast...was via a cheesy death scene. Well, at least they didn't make the cast even more bloated and unwieldy. As for all the issues I've mentioned with Allurance before? Doubled down on here. Allura's not the strong capable leader we were shown, she was weak and in need of man to complete her. What a great 180 from powerful character to prize for toxic masculinity. And if you don't like the idea that pursuing a woman aggressively and jealously, even swooping in after a break up is toxic...? I don't know what to tell you. If you think this relationship happened organically and wasn't rushed? I don't know what to tell you. I don't think we were watching the same show.

However. I know me foreshadowing. Allura gives life. Allura and Lance photo. The flowers at her bedside last season that symbolize death. Let's see if they pull another “oh look, their relationship failed.” Because on screen romance is the kiss of death in this series. Also, the fact that so far nothing has even been hinted at Pidge's obvious crush on Lance... Yeah, can't say I'm surprised. I think maybe the writers forgot their own lore...

Oh, and off they go to space. What a great first episode. I'm so pumped to see the train wreck continue...

Is it just me... Or have they now made Honerva nothing more than defined by the men in her life...? So far her entire episode has been about how she serves no purpose without Lotor. Months she spent without purpose. This despite having knowledge of both Oriande and The Altean Colony via her mind link with Kuron... But suddenly, this fiercely intelligent multi-millenia old right hand of the empire...falls into a depression because her son is missing...? The most driven character in the whole series is just wandering aimlessly without the son that, let us not forget... She forgot even was her child for the majority of the show... I appreciate that they're attempting yet again to give the bad guys a little more humanity, but...There's a difference between a nuanced and rounded character and simply writing them to act differently at the drop of a hat. So, I get that they're pushing for her regretting that she had no connection with Lotor, that the act of coming back from the dead robbed her of motherhood...but in so doing, they're yet again doubling down on the fact that Lotor was always a victim of his upbringing. Or lack thereof. It feels almost like these sequences were written at a point before they realised they were going to make Lotor into Space Hitler. This screams redemption arc for a lost little boy being set up. Not the genesis of a heartless monster. Even their own backstory doesn't seem to gel with the show...

Well, I guess they answer the question of how the hell did a single nanny exist across multiple millennia. Dayak is a title, it seems. Not a name. That was a useful retcon I suppose. Maybe they should have thought more about their own continuity  And yes, it seems everything Honerva is now doing she's doing for the sake of Lotor. Not out of her own capacity or desire. And Lotor, somehow bathing in pure life energy, is dead. And now, we have further proof that Lotor's story about being an essentially good person who had to watch a planet of his friends and allies burn. Again, this whole thing screams redemption arc. Where and how, after this entire process of being exiled due to his pragmatism, in being in reverence of Altea...did he suddenly turn Space Vampire feeding upon the very people he revered...? This episode gave the opportunity to make the Altean colony and Lotor using them as a vampire make sense. Instead it just raises more questions. It makes it seem even more likely that at one point Honerva was the one harvesting to make druids. That at one point Lotor was supposed to be redeemed. Then changes were forced. Or maybe a half baked redemption is still coming? Willing suspension of disbelief is utterly gone. The story is plainly a patchwork of mistakes piled upon mistakes.

A beautifully animated, beautifully scored and beautifully voice acted incoherent mess.

Still got time for that transformation sequence in the middle of an inconsequential battle that doesn't further the main plot and further doubles down on the problems caused by the five year gap. Do we really have time to rebuild the Voltron coalition and bring stability in seven episodes...? And what part of this actually benefits from the five year gap? “The Galra Empire is at war with itself” this scenario could have played out perfectly well during a civil war cause by Lotor's 'death' and Sendak creating a splinter faction. The five year gap was in no way necessary, as I mentioned in previous posts. And...do we really have time for an episode that's one long reference to Alien...? Even now at the half way point of the episode, it seems clear they're either going to find something that mildly advances the plot or else is utterly pointless. Do we have the time to waste on this when there are so many other plot threads that need tying up? Pidge and Lance's lion moments for one. Lance needs to use his sword. Ever again. Probably to save Allura, just to really hammer home that she's weak and incapable without him now. Whatever's going on with Keith is another. Maybe Axca will just info-dump an explanation. Or not. Are we just going to get a bunch of things unsolved? A bunch of things forgotten? Are they going to make this a to be continued in a new season...?

Well, there we go. The secret weapon made with distilled Altean quintessence. Now we know where it went. So it devours quintessence, slaughters Galra but just...pushes aside Paladins of Voltron...? Ok, so it's probably engineered to hunt Galra. Which makes sense, right? A Galra super weapon. That only hunts Galra. Ok, so now comes the info-dump retcon. Whereas previously it was created by the Galra base they were infiltrating using the Distilled quintessence... It was now found in the Quantum Abyss... And trained and engineered by Lotor to hunt Galra...? Sure. Whatever. It makes no sense and feels shoehorned into the plot. But sure. Rather than being pragmatically working toward an empire that didn't rely on using other races for Quintessence, Lotor was actually secretly making monsters to kill only Galra for the sake of genocide...? Nonsense.

“How do you know so much about it?” Good question Lance. And guess what? It's not actually answered in the show. Go back and watch the episode where Keith and Krolia found this thing. Any hint of it being a weapon Lotor created...? Any hint of it being anything except built or engineered on that base? I think you'll find not because they just forced this into the plot now. Who knows what purpose the creature was supposed to originally serve, if any, but this is obviously nonsense. And Lance is quite rightly asking, “How does Keith know so much about it...?” And it's because the writers needed to info-dump another retcon.

And just a small aside... Lance not knowing the difference between an Altean Hour and an Altean Minute literally contradicts what was established about his grasp of the time system seasons ago. He wasn't born yester-quintant. But now he's too dumb to remember time units. Because who gives a damn about continuity or character progression when you can just have characters regress...?

And why are they acting surprised that Honerva can build more than one robeast...? I'm so tired of seeing them all written as complete idiots. If Honerva has access to Altean Alchemy, and they know she does and access to the infrastructure and resources to build one robeast then it stands to reason she can build more than one... That doesn't even need a genius like Pidge to figure out. That's just common sense. That they've all now written to be bereft of.

And split up? Ok, so with so few episodes to go that likely means splitting focus from the Paladins and the Atlas on an episode by episode basis, most likely. Plus the obligatory “comedy” episode to waste yet more time that could be spent telling the actual story. Then everything needs at least an episode to wrap up...? Guess we're not getting the endings and tied up threads we were expecting. Or if we do it will be brushed aside. Like Keith's explanation of how he knew so much about the Not-A-Xenomorph.

Still, on the bright side? Only a few more episodes to go...

Oh wow. If the ongoing saga of the girl that used to be Allura who will live for millennia and the boy who will live for decades that used to be a character developing wasn't cringeworthy enough, now we have the characters just arbitrarily deciding to go to the one place in the entire Voltron coalition that the Robeast arrived at. Such a lazy plot contrivance. Lance is right. Why couldn't there have been some means of tracking a quintessence signature or some kind of magical anomaly intrinsic to the Robeasts that Honerva is creating? A magical element would have given Allura something to do other than pout. What they needed was something to give them a CLUE as to where they next need to go. Seconds, literally seconds after Pidge has pointed out the vastness of the universe and how unlikely it would be to find the robeast with not a single clue... They just arbitrarily decide to go to the planet it landed on!? What the actual hell, writers? Can I have a crate or two of whatever you were high on when you wrote this, please?

Transformation sequence. Because we need that eating up the run time don't we...? Yeah, it's a nitpick, so what?

Oh boy. Another planet massacred. Another group of allies lost. Cheap emotional tugging at the last hurdle when it's largely irrelevant. Not that I suppose it really matters. After a few months they'll be back on their feet and making cartoons again, just like Earth. After all, they probably all escapedor mostly did. It seems absurd that they couldn't have. They're one of the most technologically advanced species in the universe. Escape pods wouldn't be beyond them. Makes a damn sight more sense than last season where we're supposed to believe the entire multi billion population of Earth fit into those prisons. Billions are dead on Earth, remember? So, 'dead' Olkarion yet another example of the Paladins being given almost no hope of a happy ending short of a deus ex machina that will somehow undo all the damage. Or it just gets ignored. Because who cares about Billions dead on Earth? Or across the rest of the coalition...? Which raises another point... Why did nothing happen to Olkarion during the five year gap...? Did they even try to contact Olkarion when they emerged from the quintessence field...? Because it sure didn't look like it was devastated in their absence. It looked, until the robeast, pristine.

Continuity? What's that? At this point it wouldn't even shock me if they had Pidge wake up and say “wow, what a wild dream...” As the last second of the series.

How can Hunk still not be good under pressure, after he's shown multiple times...to be good under pressure...? To have developed as a character...? You know what, never mind... So wait, this whole episode was just to establish... That Honerva has access to a Teludav...? Is that really information that couldn't have already been inferred? An energy detected on the Robeast for example? Or just, I dunno, putting two and two together? What thematically was gained by Pidge's vision quest that couldn't have been delivered by some survivors? I know they're going for a noble sacrifice on a planetary scale, but... When the noble sacrifice is to deliver information that realistically could have been gathered in countless other ways... It just feels, like a lot of the plot now, forced.

Well, escape pods. Who could have guessed that? And the episode ends with them gaining a tracker. Something that was probably necessary at least on some level to make the episode make sense. Would it have been so hard to say that between Pidge and Allura they made a magi-tech tracker that just about detects the Robeasts and then the Olkari data makes it work perfectly? Nah. Let's just have them find the aftermath of a robeast attack randomly a split second after saying how absurd that would be...

Unique Energy Signatures Interesting. An energy signature that's unique.

And the robeasts have them. Huh.

You know what's really easy to spot in a set of data...?

S O M E T H I N G    U N I Q U E

See, if you take the text so far as an example of background cosmic radiation and all the other stuff one might detect around Earth, the above two words would be a unique energy signature. Something not usually found in nature. Something outside the norm. Make's one wonder why there was no way to track these unique energy signatures before now. Say, with the Atlas or the established satellite networks around Earth. Makes one wonder why over months this data wasn't analysed. Of course, I'm assuming that anyone even turned on a scanner. Or remembered they had hands. Why would anyone think to scan space when a new an unknown enemy showed up. From Space. Don't be silly. That would require the application of logic.

And, I really don't care for the continued loss of time fixating on the MFEs and their wacky lunchtime with Axca... Or indeed all Axca's angst. Considering how much we still have to happen for The Paladins I'm not really feeling the need to develop a last second former general to be a half formed love interest for Keith. Basically following the same plot of learning to be more human and less angst ridden that Keith did. Well, this episode sure feels like filler. Random trap, with a bunch of old enemies. I mean, at least they remembered Alteans can change skin tone, I guess...? Just about the only thing that impressed me about this episode so far.

Well, that fight scene happened. Wait...left you...? The last we saw the two of them had blown up. And half of Zethrid's face is burned. Indicating surviving the explosion. Her entire crusade of gathering mercenaries, hunting Keith, the name of the episode being The Grudge... It all adds up to dead partner. But now Axca's saying... Ezor left Zethrid...? What the hell kind of absurdity is that...? She'll never take me back...? That has to be the biggest dumbest cop out... What could have been a really emotionally compelling look at a “bad guy” having more nuanced motivations... Made Zethrid look like she was having a tantrum.

And still, nothing of the wider plot advances. More filler.

Gosh, this mostly static series of shots of Allura telling us what's happening at Oriande sure is engaging. Thank goodness this isn't in a visual medium or we might have been shown this rather than told... And another big rousing speech about end the war. That will result in the war not ending, if any of the previous times were anything to go by. Except this is the last season, so... This time doing the same thing has to work.

Well, I'm surprised we didn't get two transformation sequences in a row. I would have thought that would be the best use of their time. Also, whilst I see the thematic necessity of Allura in charge, I'm not sure how the plot really justified it. And is it just me, or did Ezor always seem a bit...pasted in place and static...? Not even sure the voice was the same, maybe it's just me... Still no Lance and Pidge Lion connection. Just an aside really. Not sure if we'll ever see it at this stage.

And again, maybe this is just me... But surely we can only feel like every reality is under threat is a big deal once in the same show, right? One also has to wonder that given access to the same alchemical ability and greater knowledge, that Honerva could have retrieved the Sincline with... Another similar mech...? Seems like an unnecessarily massive ritual just to bring probably not Lotor back. Or was bringing him back just part of it and the majority was to collapse the white hole...? She's just controlling him...? Because why not. All this guilt and need to save her son, this massive magical ritual was just... To get a puppet Lotor and to kill the White Lion...? And damage reality in the process? Or is this just the classic trope of screw you all I'm destroying everything?

I mean, I know that these episodes want to keep you guessing, but... Maybe just a touch of explaining what all the bright beams of light and particle effects are would be good...? And preferably not sat at a conference table telling us but through the story showing us. At least the plot has advanced. I guess it's now time for the comedy episode to destroy the flow...? 

Well, seems like another filler episode. I really wanted an entire episode dedicated to a secondary character when there's already plenty of Paladin's stories left to tell. And the interview format is still more excuses for tell don't show as people talk at the screen to deliver information without it seeming artificial. The absurd necessities to make the found footage format work always bugs me. There's no difference here. I'm just not feeling Cloverfield but Voltron. I can't deny that it's been animated well, but, I'm tired of filler. And this season so far has been the vast majority filler.

If you want to do dramatic framing and filming, keeping one character in shot and then another, then swapping back... Then clearly your camera has a dramatically appropriate setting that works in micro gravity. If you're going to do found footage, don't also drop the ball and include impossible camera movements.

Honestly, Coran retelling the whole series would have been more entertaining than what it has been so far. But for what it's worth, the world building, finding out Colleen Holt is a biologist / geneticist of some considerable skill? Yeah. Interesting. But...how late in the game are we to be finding all this out...? Doesn't world building usually happen throughout, dotted about organically? This all just feels like... Here's some stuff we never got to mention before now. All delivered in a really artificial seeming way...

Adjusting for long range parameters...?

You're in orbit. Your ship can communicate over light years with no signal delay. Orbit is not long range for The Atlas. Just say you're adjusting for interference...

Also, they are finding new and creative ways to have meetings around a big table. The most riveting part of this show. Watch in wonder as three static characters hover over an action scene interspersed with static. Wonder if next time we'll get to see someone make coffee for the meeting. Puzzle over the filler to plot ratio. Thank characters talking directly to the screen telling us the status of questioning prisoners of war that could have been delivered in countless other ways. Wouldn't that conversation with the Altean have been more interesting if delivered in the interrogation room rather than through two cameras...?

Still not going to touch the lifespan gap? Ok.

And holy crap use Hunk more. That desert part? Brilliant. An actual stand out moment that shows his compassion and his intellect. Not just being a big worrying goof who eats. Finally, something I can genuinely praise in this whole mess. They haven't ignored Hunk. That was a wonderful moment, breaking barriers with cookies. And so far, in terms of writing, 100% the best part of the whole series. One diamond in all the rough... Or maybe something of more value than a diamond. Like a good writer on the Voltron team...

“Winning prizes is my speciality.” Uhuh. Once someone has been rendered a prize I guess.

And now it's time for yet another filler episode interspersed with a little plot. Sorry, by plot I mean an info dump. This time from “Lotor” or a vision of him at least. Lecturing us about the void creatures. It's about time they got brought up again. But thanks writers for yet again delivering that information and story in the least engaging possible way.

It's nice seeing the characters have a little fun. I won't deny it. I personally don't buy how eager Pidge is to help Lance out on his shiny thing for Allura quest... But, at this stage I think I should just cast aside anything that might have previously been established about the characters and just assume stuff will happen at the writer's whims. If I'm lucky, it will be entertaining. Maybe the inconsistency comes from writing? Or animators not being given clear direction by writers? Or executive meddling. Maybe I also think it's cheating to use a robot arm that has no resistance in an arm wrestling contest. Shiro's body provides no leverage. It's all down to the hand unit, but nobody brings that up in the show. Even though they should.

Also not digging the using both the men in her life to tempt Allura. It kinda draws even more attention to how flighty they made her. How sudden and how jarring her reciprocating Lance's feelings was when they first seeded it at the Omega Shield. One big gesture to win his prize. It's all so skin crawling. So diminishing for both her and for Lance. Honerva, through the void creature, can presumably see this in her mind. Why else would she shift between the two men? It's almost as though the show itself is acknowledging they made Allura indecisive, flighty, weak to temptation and easily manipulated. And then she puts her hand to the glass. Then takes what is effectively a demon into her, that she knows allows Honerva to kill a host at will. I mean, at least they included her Mother, rather than Alfor. That's something I suppose, to indicate that her entire character isn't solely defined by the men in her life now. Though, it's small comfort. I mean, I get that she's being manipulated. I get that she's being tempted. But she's not Allura any longer. Allura was the incredibly strong willed last daughter of a dead world. A genocide survivor who came out fighting. The princess who gave up her last vestiges of her royal office for her friend to have an arm. The woman who killed the last remnants of her own Father's uploaded mind. Allura is strong willed. Stronger willed than any of us could dream of being. Or at least she was. Much as they now try to devalue her in the show... She united two thirds of the Universe under the Voltron coalition. Now what is she...? A damsel in distress who's going to need to be saved from her own weakness and a prize to the nice boy. And I'd put money on Lance using his Altean Broadsword to save her, just to hammer that home.

Of all the awful choices the writers have made, destroying Allura is probably the worst. You'd think I'd say Plance, but you'd be wrong. As I've always said, I'd rather not have it be canon at all than have it be badly written crap. So even if somehow Plance is super late end game, it will be just a shoddily written piece of crap on top of a giant shitty cake. So I wanted to take my victories where I could. I wanted to hope that maybe Allura could be Allura again at the last hurdle. Nope. Destroyed.

And credit where it's due? That overly bombastic anime-as-fuck arm wrestle, complete with foe with a heart of gold trope played for laughs? Yeah. That was fun. It's not like they can't do moments. I will admit that. They have some among the writing staff who make wonderful moments. It's just a shame those moments are mired in so much dross...

That touch of self awareness about the robot arm from Iverson I appreciated. Again. Moments. The entire concept of using a void creature combined with Voltron's joining of minds seems like the worst idea ever. It puts them all in jeopardy. Lance is being the only sensible one there. Which is rare to say. It also doesn't feel like he's doing it purely out of his feelings for her. Just common sense. Also, I feel like the Astral Lions moment would have carried a little more oomph if... Lance and Pidge had had their Lion Bond moment. I'm going to keep coming back to that. Because it feels very present in it's absence. It feels as if it has been either removed or else forgotten.

The battle with their alternate selves was fascinating. One of the few fight scenes that acutally wasn't boring this season. Though, Allura inevitably giving in to and using the darkness... What did I say before...? They've made her so weak. It took her lion intervening to stay her hand. And was it just me or was Lance using his broadsword...? With no fanfare...? No dramatically appropriate moment for it to materialise in a meaningful way...? It's just... There...? They establish he can summon it only under intense need, then never use it and now suddenly it's just... There...? Wow. I was giving them far too much credit when I assumed it was foreshadowing some dramatically appropriate moment. Sorry to anyone out there I said as much to. They just forgot about it.

This may be bad of me, but there's something distinctly Freudian about Lance wielding Allura's Father's Broad Sword... That just me?

So... They're continuing together on life's journey now...? And we're still not going to even touch on relative human to Altean life spans...? Really...? Ok...

And this is just another aside...

Their minds are all connected. So, Pidge doesn't need to explain anything except for the sake of the audience. That's fine and dandy. I'm used to Voltron relying on prodigious amounts of exposition. But why is Alfor surprised at the knowledge of Allura being possessed...? Angry? Sure. Concerned? Sure. Trying to convince her it's a bad idea? Sure. But...surprised...? How...? The plot would have you believe they're all profoundly connected on a far deeper level than ever before... And yet, somehow he's surprised at this knowledge...? Whatever. Plot right? Who cares. It's not like a team of writers have been paid a large sum for this to be a coherent story...

Should I just rename myself Bitter Bitching Bear?

Probably... I guess palaces in the mind would make a Voltron and Persona 5 crossover possible. Not that I would want to lessen Persona 5 in that way. Just an idle observation. And again, despite the mind connection, Allura is revealing things to Alfor that surprise him. I know it'd make conversations pointless and thus the whole show would be a hard watch... But still, why even pretend there is a mind connection if they don't even pay it lip service?

If I was taking a shot every time there was an unnecessary transformation sequence... In fairness I'd probably just be a little merry. But still, for a show that's being so rushed, they seem to have all the time in the world for transformation sequences and filler episodes. And really lousy looking CGI corridors. That was jarring. Also, Lance and Alfor being one and the same in the cockpit. Freudian symbolism intensifies.

Now, I'm just going to spitball for a moment. Allura is filled with an evil tennis ball from the void. She needs the evil ball to find Honerva. Yet we've seen she can remove the entities from Alteans. Admittedly, a dead one but, what's to say it's not possible on a living Altean? It's not like anyone tried.

Take the entity. Sever their connection. Ask the Alteans where Honerva is. Literally no need to put her sanity at risk. No need to have her willingly being possessed by a spooky space demon. Would it be as visually impressive? No. But it was an alternative that wasn't even discussed. Or considered.  And it makes a great deal more sense. It also allows Allura to remain at least partially her incredibly strong willed self and not give in to the easy dark path. Yes, at this stage she's resisting. But let's be real. She's going to fall to the darkness. At least for a time. You don't foreshadow this hard about how bad the spooky space demon is unless you're going somewhere with it. Mind you, I've been wrong before about the writers doing something they're obviously building toward...

And now Lotor has gone from compelling conflicted character, to vampire space Hitler to a pile of gloop in a chair. Just one screw you after the next... Guess there's no redemption arc for him that doesn't involve a spatula...

Also, it suddenly strikes me that there's a whole lot of lazy asset reuse thanks to this episode's memory stuff going on. I'm also pretty sure I saw Lance's crazy gunning face against Alfor used elsewhere. Have the animators also given up? Well, with what they've been given to write, I wouldn't blame them. And...why is Zarkon's colour palette off...? His skin is literally the wrong colour... Come on guys, this isn't even funny... Why would Honerva remember her own Husband as the wrong colour...? Why would, what I assume is Zarkon's soul, be the wrong colour...?

Honerva's plan... So... Let me get this straight...

Honerva has Zarkon's soul in her mind. Possibly Lotor's somewhere as well, but that's just a guess.

She's made cloned bodies before. You see where I'm going with this?

Why destroy every single other reality, just to find the right one when she could just... Replace their souls in cloned bodies...? Or at the very least bring Zarkon back to aid her...? If Allura could do it it would be child's play to Honerva. Her motivation makes sense, but her method is utterly stupid. It makes her look stupid when she can't even use the tools at her own disposal.

What even is this daft speech and argument from Keith...?

Voltron is gone? Voltron is within us...?

Bollocks to your pseudo-deep emotional prattle. Just be sensible for once. The lions were never there to begin with. They were astral constructs. The lions aren't literally there so they aren't literally gone. You don't need a rousing speech about reaching for the lion inside you, because it's all in your heads as much as it's in hers... So stupid.

Also, pretty sure the entire blazing sword sequence was reused...

And something bad happened to Allura because she used the bad thing that was bad. Did we mention it was bad enough?

Well, here it is. The Big Robot they have to beat this season. Complete with seraphic imagery and form. That sure as hell hasn't been done to death, has it? And it's the board room of exposition again. Woohoo. And yet more Lance angst. And another Lance and Keith bonding moment. We get it, they're friends now. Ok, apparently removing the entity didn't kill the Altean...? So she could literally have just used their help...? Or even traced Honerva using one of the other's entity. And again, nothing was even suggested to do that.

I'm honestly not sure what would have been worse right now. The fact that Allura has been rendered bed bound and unable to do anything or if she'd been made a damsel in distress to be literally saved. Then again, I suppose there's still time for that. And in a sense, she is still in distress. Waiting to be saved by the plot. Oh, here it is. Lance going to awaken her with his love. Hooray. The damsel in distress is saved by the Nice Guy.

And the whole first part of the episode was literally just padding and wasting time. Are we any closer to finding out why Keith can do what he does...? Will we ever find out? Nah, I'll scratch that off along with Lance and Pidge ever getting their lion moments that everyone else got last season. But thank goodness we had time for all the pointless filler.

Ok... So, to be clear... At no point before going into the Astral Plane, did Allura think to remove the entities from the Alteans they have onboard...? I mean, yeah, sure, Allura getting controlled is one thing, she's just a plot device to be used these days and lacks any agency of her own any longer. But to have the irrelevant side characters not have their spooky space ghost taken out... When they know it directly connects them to Honerva... Even if they couldn't predict Honerva could control them, leaving them bonded with the entities was a stupid risk... Everyone is written like an idiot.

And, I'm not even sure how you can classify these void creatures as entities. They don't seem to have any will or agency of their own. They just seem to serve as brain bluetooth for Honerva and nothing else. Feels like they were supposed to be more than they ended up being. You can pretty much sum up the whole series as such. It was supposed to be so much more than it ended up being.

Now, I'm sure someone will point out that the Balmera we know is near Earth, so it shouldn't be here. Which is why they found a random new Balmera and new Balmerans. But, wouldn't it be more satisfying to have Shay and her formerly enslaved people being part of this final battle...? Wouldn't it be more compelling than watching New Balmera and the New Balmerans to see Shay and her long downtrodden people fighting back...? To just introduce a new Balmera with no previous stakes in the conflict is...mind boggling...

Mother and Son combined huh...? Freudian Symbology 3 – The Freudianing

Two episodes and then it's all over. Thankfully over.

And still time for another transformation sequence. We get it. Lions go click. I never thought I'd get bored watching a giant robot form... And at this stage, repetition seems to be a good topic. They're battling to save all realities. Again. There's a big space wobbly hole. Again. Only Coran with the power of breaking stuff can stop it. Again. I mean, I get this is based on a formulaic Japanese super robot show from the 80's, but it's current year argument... Can we maybe have something new in the season arc formula that isn't beat the big bad robot...? Right up until season 6 this show had so much potential and we've watched it all get squandered.

So...suddenly Balmera... That can travel at speeds at least as quick as Teludav...? Ok, sure. Whatever. And calling the other Balmera here...? Wow, wouldn't that have been more compelling if Shay, on her own Balmera previously wounded by Honerva, called out to the others? Wouldn't that have made this suddenly Balmera moment make more sense...? Nah. Screw sense. New Balmera and the New Balmerans happened. Then a whole bunch happened... It's like, they're missing all these obvious ways to tie things together using all they have in place... How can one writer never mind a whole damn team of writers miss something so elementary so repeatedly...?

At this stage, I genuinely think they stopped caring.

Deus Ex Balmera made Voltron and The Atlas fuse into a derpy generic looking Gundam.

You've got the rights to Voltron one of the most iconic combiner robots in history. Why the hell would you, for the final battle, turn it into yet another generic looking super robot in high heels!? Why!? Even that daft looking toy covered in blue bits was better than this...

Again, I can't understand how seeing two robots form a bigger robot is somehow boring... But they managed it... Makes me worry that the Voltron writers are apparently going on to do Spider Verse films... Somehow they might make multiple reality spider people boring...

And a big silly looking sword as well. Why not just cover it in belt buckles while you're at it?

And given this Alt-Reality Lotor and Alt-Reality Allura, they had the perfect chance to have them both be adorable little munchkins together. Couldn't even do that... And can we just stop with this? We get it, even if she wins she loses cause it's not really her world and not really her Zarkon and her plan was always doomed to fail... Yes, we get it. Hubris. Can we please just hurry up and end the series before I start listing all of the many plot threads you've overlooked...?

Ok, now the over-designed purple mess can fight the over-designed mess with a vaguely Voltron head. Then some shoddy deus ex machina will happen, probably.

Yup. Voltron just turns into a giant set of wings before ending up in the nexus of all realities. And Allura makes it all better with her magic. And predictably Allura makes the ultimate sacrifice because of course she does. Who didn't see this coming? And did she just magically make Lance Altean...? Man, I preferred Allura when she wasn't just a walking plot device. Though, now I think back, was she ever anything else...? How bad it's gotten makes me re-evaluate what it was... And finally we get everything tied up with a few sentences under some still images with the exception of Shiro's kiss, which was fine, but hardly the soul surging uplifting thing it wanted to be.

And that's that.

Previously, I was angry, I will admit that. And it was shameful. Now though...? I'm obviously bitter and sarcastic about it, but mostly a combination of relief and disappointment. Glad it's over. Disappointed at what it ultimately devolved into. Ironic as this may be, coming from a writer of shitty Voltron fanfiction... From season six onwards, this show has felt like shitty Voltron fanfiction. In essence, that's what it was. There are so many of you here on tumblr. who could have done a better job. A much better job. Maybe some of you will in future.

At least now, I can move on from the mess that the canon became. I won't waste my time hoping they'll make it better or wondering if they'll resolve every plot thread. Because I know they don't. I know they forget whole swathes of things they set up. And I'm sure people will point out more. I won't be writing fics trying to make them fit into the canon. If anything, I'll want to rewrite everything that went wrong from season six onwards. I will probably at least finish off some Plance pieces that I think The Garden needs now more than ever. Set in some of the alternate realities that didn't turn into this...utter mess... See you later, Space Cowboys. Sorry about the space dysentery.

Also, as one comment points out? That's not a gundam in my gif. But just a robot that looks silly dancing. pretty sure it's from a gundam series...but I only really know wing and beargguys. ...Here's a jolly thought. Altean Lance? He will live for centuries. Allura's last "gift" condemns him to spend nearly 1000 years watching his friends, his family over several generations, probably his entire lineage die and rot. All the while mourning her and never moving on. Fuck. This. Season.

#voltron #voltron legendary defender #voltron season 8 #voltron spoilers #voltron season 8 spoilers #spoilers voltron #vld spoilers #vld #bear is salty

[nerdylittoyvoid]

“Fall Risk” Pt. II

A/N: Hello again friends, I am back with another part for @writinginstability‘s writing challenge! I had way too much fun with this part so I hope you all like it, lemme know if my obscene sense of humor is making this work or not :)

Warnings: Swearing (Gavin’s always making this fun for everyone)

Y/N woke up to bright lights taking over her vision. She heard the steady beating of a machine beside her and the IV machine administering fluids. Looking down, she saw long IV tubes coming from her left hand, and a bandage cast on her right. How she landed up here was beyond her, the last thing she remembered was getting out of the car, grabbing Connor by the arm and running.

Looking to her left, she saw Connor sitting at her bedside. His eyes were closed, though you knew enough about androids to know that he was probably making repairs or updates on his software. His brown curls were disheveled and his tie undone – something that has never happened. The guy took every chance he got to make sure his appearance was up to par, seeing him in this state only alarmed her further.

“Connor?” Y/N asked timidly. Her mind was running wild at what could have possibly happened. She remembered nothing. Connor stirred, she supposed he simply was not interested enough to respond. He certainly was starting to develop selective hearing.

Taking in a breath, she tried again.  “Connor!” Connor’s eyes snapped open, moving to look her in the face. “Why am I here?”

For the first time, Y/N heard Connor chuckle. It was truly music to her ears and somehow was incredibly comforting. At least someone (even if it was an android) found humor in this situation.  

Connor opened his eyes and took a look at Y/N. She had scratches down the right side of her face, and was a bit bruised all down her right shoulder. “Well, Y/N, let’s just say that you aren’t allowed around trees or benches anymore.” 

Shaking his head, Connor gave Y/N a smirk.

“What?” Y/N demanded, clearly shocked. “I know I’m clumsy but how the hell did mess myself up like this? Did I break a bench?” Y/N’s eyes widened at her next thought. “Is the bench okay?”

Connor rested his index finger and thumb on the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes. Something about the way she was acting, showing more concern over an inanimate object than her well being was… endearing? Yes, that might be the word for it. “Well, you grabbed my arm and started running towards a nearby park. You wanted to show me what it is to be ‘alive’ and subsequently tripped over a tree root and hit your head on the bench beside the tree.”

“Oh my god- “

“I appreciate your effort on showing me what deviancy has to offer. But, even though I am not as fragile as humans, I’ll pass.”

“No, no Connor. I just fell that wasn’t a demonstration of anything- “

“I called Gavin and Hank and explained what happened. I assumed it would be best to have those who know you well to be there during your recovery. I also contacted Captain Fowler to notify him that you will be taking time off of work to recover.”

“Connor, you shouldn’t have done that.”

Right before you could begin scolding him in walked Gavin. Wearing his typical leather jacket and jeans, he stopped in his tracks to look at Y/N, only to burst into condescending laughter.

“Well, well, well.” Gavin tutted while crossing his arms. “If it isn’t our favourite tree kicker.”

“Gavin, kindly shut the fuck up.” Y/N retorted. She groaned as a headache came upon her. Gavin, after all, did have that effect on people.

Hank walked in after Y/N and Gavin’s little exchange with a look of amusement adorning his face. “never a dull moment eh, Pinky” You groaned at the use of your adolescent nickname. All because you dyed your hair pink when you were sixteen, and now you’d never live it down.

“I hate all of you.” Y/N crossed her arms. She had a roaring headache, was most likely concussed and now she had another story that was going to be told at her wedding.

“I’m sure that both that tree and that bench could say the same about you.” Connor sassed back. This little quip of his made the entire room go silent, he was usually so literal. Connor joking was almost unheard of.

Gavin was the first the break the silence. “So, the plastic prick now knows how to joke.” He scoffed.

The visit continued as follows: Everybody made fun of you. That was it. It was about an hour into the visit that your arm started killing you, so the nurse topped you up on morphine. Gavin wasted no time in gaining footage of you high on painkillers for “blackmail purposes”.

After another hour, you were asleep. Gavin had returned to the DPD, which only left Hank and Connor.

Hank turned to Connor, seeing his LED blinking yellow once again and a frown etched onto his features. The damned LED always seemed to be yellow these days.

“What’re you thinking about, Connor?”

“Y/N got hurt trying to convince me that being deviant would result in a better quality of life. That I am alive. Why would she do something so foolish?” Connor’s gaze moved to her face. Scratches adorned it. He wondered if they would lead to scarring.

“She’s always been cartoon-ishly optimistic, sometimes naïve. I wouldn’t beat yourself up about it, Connor. If I know her well enough, she isn’t anything close to upset with you.”

Connor nodded. What was this heaviness he felt in his chest? Sadness, Guilt? Was it both? Was it even possible to feel more than one emotion in one sitting? “It’s not that I’m concerned about her being upset,” Connor lied, “it’s merely that she is such a great asset to our investigation, it’d hinder it by having her off work recovering.”

“Whatever lets you sleep at night, Connor.”

“I don’t sleep, lieutenant.”

Hank rolled his eyes and chuckled. “Whatever. When you can, look up what sarcasm means.”

**************************************

Y/N returned home a couple nights later. She was instructed by doctors to periodically take her pain medication to aid with her concussion and arm, as well as to stay away from lights and digital screens. Connor insisted on staying home with her for the first day that she was released, insisting that “The best detective at the DPD needed to come back fully recovered”.

Y/N blushed, poking fun at his attempt of flattery. “Connor, you, a machine that cannot feel made a personal compliment?” Y/N walked into her kitchen with Connor following suit.

Connor responded in a hushed tone, aware that loud sounds could cause her to experience pain due to her concussion. “It wasn’t a display of romantic or platonic feelings. It was merely a fact.” Connor stated. Somehow, he felt flustered, as if he was trying to convince himself more than Y/N of the former.

“Whatever- “

Connor cut Y/N off, “-helps you sleep at night? Hank noted that phrase as sarcasm while you were sleeping in the hospital last night. He told me to look it up.”

Y/N laughed at this, then winced at the loud sound as it had caused her head to throb.

Connor continued, “I took the liberty in looking up and beginning to master all figures of speech. I hope that it will help me better integrate with humans.”

Y/N turned around and flashed him a grin. With a joking tone Y/N retorted, “Stupid nerd.”

“An insult and an oxymoron all in one. Most impressive.” Connor said as he put a hand on his hip, using his other hand to lean on the kitchen counter.

“You’ve done too much research on sarcasm and sass. I don’t need another version of Hank at the DPD. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to play a video game from my childhood.” Y/N grabbed a Pepsi the fridge and walked to the living room.

“The doctor instructed not to be in front of any screens for the next 24 hours- “

“The doctor can kiss my ass, I spent 48 asleep in the hospital room. I’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, head injuries are just a result of the brain smacking against the inside of the skull.”

Y/N chuckled at what she thought was Connor’s attempt at a euphemism. She thought he was becoming more and more deviant by each day.

She grabbed the controller for her old PS4, now considered a classic. She remembered her parents telling her about how they used to play this all the time before she was born, passing the hobby onto her when she was old enough. Oh, where had the time gone.

Connor scanned the controller, searching the internet to see what console it could belong to. “That console is 25 years old!” Connor had exclaimed for the first time, fascinated by the old technology.

“It is! My favourite game on it is Skyrim. Its in medieval sort of time setting on a planet with magic.”

Connor’s eyes widened. “Fascinating.” He muttered.

“You want to watch me play it? I can start a new character so you can watch the storyline from the beginning?” Y/N offered.

“I think I’d,” Connor paused. He’d never been in a situation where he’d like to do something. “enjoy that, very much so.”

Y/N looked shocked at his choice of words. He was developing likes and dislikes, seemingly growing out of his aloof and uninterested behavior. “Well,” Y/N began with a growing smile on her face, “Let’s get started!”

Connor and Y/N played for hours; Connor fascinated by how such old technology seemed to impressive and new to him, and Y/N fascinated by the look of pure wonder on his face. For once since Connor became activated, he was not focused on a mission, for his only task seemed to “just be” with Y/N.

A ‘system instability’ alert came up in Connor’s vision. He quickly ignored it. He felt that since his purpose for being here was serious enough (solving deviant cases and all), he might as well enjoy himself every now and then.

The conversation started to die down. Connor felt this was awkward as he thoroughly enjoyed talking with Y/N. He tried thinking of conversation starters but was stumped, he’d never been in this type of predicament before.

Connor resorted to searching the internet (since he had it built in to his program).

“Conversation starters”: 15 000 000 000 results.

Connor chose the first link he saw: “Good questions to get to know someone”

Reading through the list, he finally decided on a couple questions he felt would be best. With that, he cleared up his throat and began speaking.

“Y/N?” Connor asked.

“What’s up?” Y/N responded while taking a sip of her Pepsi.

Connor turned to Y/N, meeting her eyes. “Are there any recent or interesting events pertaining to your love life?” Connor inquired, tilting his head.

Y/N choked on her drink in response to the randomly personal question.

“Where the heck did that come from?”

“I searched the internet through my system on questions to start conversation, this seemed like the one that would produce the most reaction.”

“You got that right, why would you ask about my love life?”

Connor shrugged. “It seems like the subject humans are most passionate about. Talking, commenting on, or joking about their love life is very common in social culture.”

Y/N sighed, contemplating asking this question. If she kept the person- no, android she had her eyes on very vague, he wouldn’t find out, right?

She took another sip from her Pepsi, paused the game and turned to Connor. She positioned herself to be sitting cross-legged with her back against the arm rest of the couch. “What the hell, I’ll tell you. I do have my eye on this one person, though he’s very... unattainable.”

Connor nodded slowly. “Would you consider- “ Connor stopped, thinking of the term commonly used for mutually partaking in romantic activities.

“Asking him out?” Y/N asked, trying to finish Connor’s thought.

“Yes, that.”

“Well… No, I don’t think so. The risks are too high. Others would strongly disapprove and the relationship itself would be very complicated.”

Connor processed her answer and continued to pry, now very curious on who this mystery person was. The bubbling in his chest and stomach seemed overwhelming. Imagining someone else spending time with Y/N like he was, causing him to be with her less made this sensation worse. Maybe this is what jealousy felt like. “Are those the reasons, or is it really because you’re scared of being turned down?”

Y/N stopped, surprised by his next question. “You’re getting really good at this ‘asking questions’ thing, aren’t you?”

Connor shrugged.

“Yes. Mainly I am scared of being turned down.” Y/N admitted. “But the repercussions outside of that are very risky.”

“Y/N Y/L/N, the girl who has been playing video games for 4 hours after getting discharged from the hospital is afraid of risk.” Connor said sarcastically. He smirked at her when she rolled her eyes, amused at her reaction.

“I guess I’m more scared of rejection than brain injury.” Y/N joked. Hearing Connor slowly trying to get her to pursue a relationship with… well, him, was starting to make her uncomfortable. The smile she has put on her face slowly disappeared, leaving a frustrated and confused look on her face.

“I don’t know what to do, Connor.” Y/N sighed, defeated.

Connor felt the need to do something – no, anything to help Y/N. Feeling the need to ask for consent, he asked Y/N if she needed comfort.

“I know that humans enjoy physical interaction when faced with hard situations, I thought it may help.”

“That would be really nice, Connor.” Y/N gave him a warm grin, moving towards him.

Connor opened his arms, Y/N graciously taking the offer. She ended up with her head on his chest, listening to the sound of his thirium pump. The beating seemed to accelerate when she wrapped her arms around him.

“Strange,” Y/N thought to herself, “I thought androids didn’t experience physiological symptoms.” Y/N made a note to herself to ask Connor later, not wanting to ruin the moment.  

Y/N looked up to Connor, taking in his warm, brown orbs. She sighed contently. “Thank you, Connor. Truly.”

Connor didn’t say anything, going for a calm smile in return. They stayed there for a moment, looking into each other’s eyes. They didn’t say anything, for the silence surrounding them was calm.

It was as if everything was acting organically. Sensing the heat of the moment, Y/N was the first to lean in the slightest bit, Connor doing the same.

Connor’s pump accelerated considerably, a ‘signal instability’ alert popping up in his vision. He couldn’t help but think to himself; “Is this the right thing to do?”

Taglist: 

@layinglonely

#writinginstability500 #dbh connor x reader #connor rk800 #connor fanfiction #detroit connor #dbh hank #hank anderson #dbh gavin #dbh fandom #dbh fanfic

[xtruss]

Why Do Some People Support Tyranny While Others Defy It?

"They understand to some extent that they are helping in the destruction of other people’s freedoms…and they revel in it"

— August 12, 2021 | Al-Market.US | By Brandon Smith

There is a fundamental question that haunts the pages of history and it is one that has never been addressed in a satisfactory manner. There are many schools of thought on why and how tyranny rises in any given society and all of them miss the mark in terms of explanations, primarily because they all allow their biases to rule their conclusions and blind them to the deeper aspects of power and conspiracy. In other words, they are willing to go down the rabbit hole only so far, and then they deny that the rabbit hole even exists.

The common assumption when it comes to autocracy or oligarchy is that people are “stupid” and easily manipulated into following compelling personalities that make promises they never intend to keep. This is a foolish oversimplification. In truth, the level of manipulation needed to lure a majority of people into dictatorship is so complex that it requires an advanced understanding of human psychology.

In our modern era, people cannot merely be ordered to submit at gunpoint, at least not right away. They must be tricked into conforming, and not only that, but they must be made to think that it was THEIR IDEA all along. Without this dynamic of self censorship and self enslavement, the population will eventually rebel no matter how oppressive the regime. A thousand year tyranny cannot exist unless a number of people are conned into applauding it, or, they directly benefit from it.

And this is where we find the true key to totalitarianism – It only thrives because there is an inherent portion of any given society that secretly loves it and wants it to exist. We might call these people useful idiots, but it is much more than that. They are not necessarily unaware of what they are doing; they understand to some extent that they are helping in the destruction of other people’s freedoms…and they revel in it. Sure, there are elitists and globalists that levy core conspiracies and seek out more and more control, but they could not accomplish much of anything without the aid of the army of sociopathic aberrations that live among us.

This strange and destructive characteristic is ever visible today in light of the covid lockdowns and the push for forced vaccinations. It is clear that there are some people out there that are overly concerned with the personal health decisions of everyone else. The science and the stats prove there is nothing for them to worry about from the virus, but they ignore the science. They thirst for the taste of power. They have become a cult which ignores all logic and demands fealty to their fraudulent narrative. They do not care about the facts, they only care that we comply.

Well, as I have said time and time again: We Will Not Comply!

And so begins the epic conflict; a tale as old as civilization itself. There are two types of people in this world: Those that want to control others, and those that want to be left alone. But what motivates the control freaks? Why are they the way they are? Lets examine some of the causes…

The Fear Engine

There are people that are driven by success, by merit, by hope, by prosperity, by faith, by optimism, by love, and by honor. And then, there are people driven by fear. There are hundreds of various fears, but only a few ways to react to any of them. Collectivists respond to fear with a desperate need to micromanage their environment; they believe that if they can dictate people and events to a certain degree, they can eliminate unexpected outcomes and be free of fear. But life does not work this way and it never will.

The level of influence these people seek is so far beyond them that it can never be attained. That is to say, they will never be satisfied until they get more. Their fears will always haunt them because fears cannot be dealt with from without, they can only be dealt with from within.

Furthermore, the things they fear often revolve around their own narcissism and are of their own making. They fear failure, but they rarely work hard enough to succeed. They fear exposure, but only because they constantly lie. They fear conflict, but only because they are weak in body and character. They fear death, because they believe in nothing greater than themselves. They clamor for dominance of their surroundings because they wrongly believe that they can cheat fate and the consequences of their own terrible choices.

“Frankly at this point it is going to be us, or them. Our two tribes cannot coexist within the same society, maybe not even the same planet.”

The Safety of The Mob

The issue of fear extends into the common mindset of the totalitarian and how they find safety. The idea of standing on their own two feet and standing by their principles in the face of opposition is completely foreign to them. They avoid these situations at any cost and the notion of risk is abhorrent to them. So, they instead look for a mob to blend into. This makes them feel safe in obscurity while also wielding force through collectivist action. They can feel powerful while at the same time being pitiful and weak.

These people almost always operate through large single minded groups that punish any dissension in the ranks, usually with gatekeepers that moderate the motivations of the hive.

The mob itself is a weapon, its only purpose beyond the comfort of its adherents is to destroy those people that do not hold the same beliefs or values as the controllers. There is no defensive purpose to the mob; it is an assassin’s tool, it is a nuclear bomb. And, as we have seen in every modern dictatorship from the Bolsheviks in Russia to the Fascists in Germany to the communists in Mao’s China, the totalitarian mob is capable of murdering more people than any nuclear weapon in existence, all in the name of “the greater good of the greater number.”

False Piety in Place of Self Worth

All tyrants believe themselves to be righteous in their cause, even when they know that their actions are morally abhorrent. I have seen this dynamic on bold display during the covid mandates and the vaccine passports initiatives. Consider for a moment that 99.7% of the population is under no legitimate threat from the covid virus; they will not die from it, and in the vast majority of cases they will recover quickly from it. Yet the covid cult consistently argues that people who refuse the mandates, the lockdowns and the vaccines are putting others at risk, which is why we need to be “forced” to submit.

Most of them know according to the data that covid is not a threat, but the narrative gives them an opportunity to apply power through “moral judgment”, and so they lie, and they continue to lie about the data until they think the lie will be accepted as reality. This is a common aspect of most cults and of fundamentalist religions that have gone astray – The habit of adherents to value lies over facts and evidence not because they are trying to protect their faith, but because it affords them the chance to feel pious and superior to those they are determined to harm.

Those who disagree are labeled heretics, the lowest of the low, the unwashed terrorists. The anti-mandate crowd is thus stripped of its humanity in this way and is painted as demonic. The people who want to remain free become monsters, and the totalitarian monsters become heroes out to save the world. As author Robert Anton Wilson once said:

“The obedient always think of themselves as virtuous rather than cowardly.”

The Love of a Cage

I feel as though I understand this mindset to an extent, but it never fails to shock me the way in which people who scratch and scrape for power over others also seem to love being slaves to the system. I’m not so sure that it is ironic, as authoritarianism does fulfill some of its promises of “security” as long as the people involved are willing to trade away any impulses of liberty. If you do as you’re told at all times and serve the system without fail, then there is a good chance you will be able to hold onto the meager necessities of survival. You will live a life, though probably not a happy one.

For those that go above and beyond and cast aside all personal principle in order to further the goals of the system, they might even enjoy a modicum of wealth beyond their peers. You see, in a despotic society, the people who are most without honor are the people that are most rewarded. They don’t need merit, or accomplishment, or skills, or even brains; all they have to do it sell their souls and do whatever it takes to catch the eye of the oligarchy. They don’t have to be good at anything, all they have to do is be evil, and for some people that’s easy.

In this way the system becomes a comfortable blanket that otherwise useless deviants can be swaddled in. They wrap themselves in it and luxuriate in its warmth. They are not concerned with freedom because freedom feels cold to them. Freedom can be isolating and the existence of choice is terrifying. When all your choices are made for you there is never any doubt or internal stress. All that is required is that you wake up each day and obey.

For weak and ignorant people, subservience is a gift instead of a curse. They believe that a cage is meant to be gilded, not escaped from, and anyone that seeks escape must be crazy or dangerous. If free people exist then the slaves are forced to question their own condition and their own compliance, so everyone must be enslaved to remove any and all doubt from society. The hive mind is placed above all else.

The Defiant And Free

The little tyrants that infiltrate humanity probably look at liberty advocates as some kind of alien creatures from far beyond the bounds of their universe. They just can’t fathom how it is possible for someone to defy the system, to stand against the mob or the collective, even when they are outnumbered or when the risk is so high. They assume that it is a form of madness or a lack of intelligence; for how could anyone smart think they have a chance of fighting back against the dictatorship?

Liberty people are individualists by nature, but we also care about the freedoms of others. There is a common propaganda narrative that claims that individualists are “selfish”, but this is not the case at all. It is not enough for us alone to escape slavery, we will not stand by and watch others be forced into bondage either. We are willing to risk our lives not just to save ourselves but to save future generations from autocracy.

As the vaccine passports and mandates continue to escalate the totalitarians will find themselves even more bewildered, because each new mechanism of control will result in even greater impetus for rebellion, and frankly at this point it is going to be us, or them. They will not stop their pursuit of dominion and we will not comply, so we are at an impasse. Our two tribes cannot coexist within the same society, maybe not even the same planet.

The truth is that if voluntarism was a valued ideal then this whole fight could be avoided. If the collectivist cult was willing to accept the notion that they can choose to live in a highly micromanaged environment while others can choose to live independently, then there would be no crisis. We could easily go our separate ways. But this is not how totalitarians think: To them, all people are chattel, we are property to be staked down and reeducated until we see the light. And if we don’t see the light, we are to be done away with and erased.

This is why they are utterly to blame for the war that is coming. They cannot stop themselves from grasping for our throats and our minds. They are addicted to supremacy. They are living in a fever dream and the only drug that cools their veins is total oppression of everyone around them. I see what is coming next and it is not pretty for either side, but it will be especially gruesome for the collectivists because they cannot imagine a scenario in which they lose. They are so certain of their preeminence and the safety of their self imposed prisons that they will see failure as a phantom, a ghost that cannot touch them. It would only take a handful of minor defeats to bring them down, but this requires freedom advocates become more organized than they are.

The bottom line is this: Tyrannical systems are planned by elitists groups and governments and it is they that benefit most from the destruction of public freedoms. It is indeed a conspiracy, and the pandemic lockdowns and forced vaccine response are no exception. However, tyrannical systems could not be executed without the help of a larger psychopathic contingent of the population, and these people congregate together to make terrible things happen. It’s as if they hear a silent dog whistle as totalitarianism rises, or they smell the blood of innocent victims in the air.

Call them leftists, call them communists, call them collectivists, call them whatever you want; but know that the globalists are not our only concern. There is a wall of self absorbed and power hungry peons in the way, and they want whatever scraps they can get from the big boy’s table. They are not oblivious; they have not been tricked into doing the things they do. They are a sad and pathetic bunch but they are still dangerous in their ambitions, and they will continue to slither out of the woodwork as the covid agenda progresses.

[corellian-smuggler]

The thing is that every single choice made in the movie was a deliberate attempt to obliterate the original trilogy. Luke Skywalker, the hero we all were waiting for and have loved for decades, the man who no matter what never lost hope or faith or gave up on his loved ones or his family or stopped believing in the Light? Whose entire character arc CULMINATED in his statement, “I am a Jedi, like my father before me,” was entirely unrecognizable. Instead we learn that despite the events of the OT, he almost murdered his nephew in his sleep—an act so disgracefully out of character that I literally CRIED. Instead of the hero we all know and love, they wrote that into the script explicitly to give Kylo Ren a more “sympathetic” back story—so they literally cared more about getting the audience to sympathize with and excuse the actions of a fascist murderer than they cared about the legacy of and integrity of Luke Skywalker, without whom they wouldn’t even HAVE a franchise to screw up. In addition to this, Luke has turned his back on his sister—not even willing to help her when she’s begging for him to come back or when he learns that Han Solo is dead, despite the fact that one of his defining qualities in the OT is his outright refusal to abandon Leia and his intense love for and loyalty to her to the extent that it’s the threat against HER—not against the galaxy or against himself—that causes Luke to almost lose control of his anger in ROTJ. They LITERALLY threw away the Skywalker legacy; Luke literally throws away the lightsaber like it’s pathetic, worthless garbage. This moment was not only significant within the context of the film—it had powerful implications for the audience. It was literally saying, “this lightsaber and all it represents is trash.” It was taking something we treasured—Luke’s journey and triumph—and spitting on it in front of our faces. What was the whole point of the original trilogy, of Luke’s story, if this is how the new film treats it? And add to that that he is portrayed as a grumpy, isolated, selfish coward too absorbed in self-disgust and self-absorption (as a result of the WILDLY out of character act of wanting to kill his nephew, by the way) to care about his family, or to try to at least RIGHT HIS WRONGS. He was dedicated to protecting the galaxy and now his own angst matters more to him than the fact that he alone had the power to stop the First Order from blowing up planets and enslaving and everyone, and as a result of his vanity and cowardice, that is exactly what happens. The new republic capital system is obliterated and, as the crawl informs us, “the First Order reigns” and now his nephew has become the next Emperor. Kylo Ren’s corruption just by nature of his existence in the story as a member of the Dark Side is already against the very point of the original trilogy—it’s basically blasphemy—but to try to insinuate that it’s partially Luke’s fault, and then that he doesn’t even try to make it right? There are no words for how disgraceful that is. And our hero whose greatest victory was that moment of becoming a Jedi at last spends a good hour telling the audience how stupid he was, how the Jedi should end, how he’s a failure and how we should not look upon him as a hero or hold dear his journey to our hearts. The film mocks him and does everything in its power to mar the beauty and goodness of the original trilogy, bending over backwards to say, “Luke was a blinded, self-absorbed fool and now look where he is.” This was deliberate. They invalidated the original trilogy on purpose.

And even at the end of the film when Luke finally tries to help, he is still out of character the entire time, telling Leia that there’s no hope, that he won’t try to save her son—even though supposedly (though I will never accept it, it is an Untruth) it’s Luke’s fault that her son fell. And then, after buying time for his sister to escape, Luke dies an old, broken down man who had lost his faith and his purity of spirit and his dedication to his family, alone as a hermit after having spent years in self-imposed exile so he could have a pity party and let the galaxy crumble and his sister suffer. Don’t be fooled. Rian Johnson and Lucasfilm knew that this was not Luke Skywalker. Anyone with half a brain can see that they systematically stripped him of every single thing that made him Luke Skywalker, right down to stating that he could find peace in death finally now that he’s had purpose, indirectly telling us all that he’d been a failure until then and that the events of the original trilogy, which the audience had been told throughout the course of the film were a farce—were inconsequential, and that the only path left to him was to sacrifice himself to just barely try to “redeem” himself for being such a failure and a coward and a piece of shit.

This is all, of course, in conjunction with Han and Leia’s son being a cold-blooded and deranged killer who embraces and represents EVERYTHING that his parents and uncle fought to destroy. This is in addition to Han and Leia’s love story being entirely invalidated, as well, with their marriage ending in estrangement and misery, with JJ Abrams stating in interviews that the two of them were incompatible and never have worked out. This is in addition to Han’s whole arc being ignored and him being reduced to a selfish smuggler again—his son is running around being not only a Space Nazi but basically the right-hand Space Nazi and is singlehandedly murdering countless people in the name of the First Order and his wife is all alone and in constant danger fighting a war with no help and trying to get their son back, and Han Solo just decides to traipse around “swindling people” and reverting to little more than petty crime instead of wanting to help or protect his wife or find Luke or do literally anything about what was happening. This was done despite the fact that Han was selfless and brave at every single turn of the OT, and that his whole story was about devoting himself to his friends and risking his life to save them and admitting that he’s not an apathetic criminal but a hero who is willing to go toe to toe with Vader himself to protect Leia, to save the galaxy, to do what’s right. And they stripped him of that entire arc and painted him as selfish and wrote his relationship with Leia as futile and miserable and resulting in the monster who is destroying the galaxy.

Leia has now lost EVERYTHING. She lost her entire PLANET in the OT, and found a family and solace in the man she loved, in her brother, in her friends, and in the freedom and democracy she almost singlehandedly brought to fruition, and they ripped all that away from her. They destroyed the New Republic and also made it a point to DISCREDIT HER, to let us all know that the no one was even taking her seriously about the First Order anyways. They made Han leave her side even though her safety was his top priority from every single moment in the OT as soon as they met. They cast a black shadow on her marriage to let us all know that they were doomed to fail and suffer, and then they killed Han Solo to serve Kylo Ren’s story just like they sacrificed Luke to that same story, ruining Leia’s life further in the process. They made her son be evil. They made Luke abandon her so that she didn’t even have her brother there by her side, and then they killed him too. So Leia has NOTHING. They made it a point to tell us that not one single person in the galaxy was willing to come to Leia’s aid when she uses her personal code to send a distress signal. They even stripped her of her NAME. No no no, this isn’t Princess Leia. She’s GENERAL ORGANA and you’d better accept it.

Let the past die, because we’re murdering it.

That’s what the sequel trilogy has done. They have deconstructed every single victory the OT had, made the heroes miserable at every chance they got, stripped them of all the best qualities of their characters, systematically undid every single part of their happy ending, and then even took it a step further to not only make it so that they didn’t win, but to make it seem that their actions—what had until now been victories—were actually “vanities” and indirectly blamed them for every single bad thing that’s happened since. Rian Johnson and Kathleen Kennedy and Lucasfilm did everything in their power to ruin the original trilogy to such an extent that it is IMPOSSIBLE that it wasn’t deliberate.

These movies are not Star Wars.

#TLJ spoilers #sw negativity #notmystarwars

[isroselalondebisexual]

This one's a bit weird, but what about these kid/trollswaps: Rose Pyrope, Jade Peixes, John Zahhak, and Dave Vantas

Ooo, swapped by Class :D

Rose Pyrope, raised in relative solitude, not meeting Dragonmom until she’s 10ish years old (about 5 sweeps I’d say), with solidly middle class income. She writes. ALL of the fanfiction. She’s got access to resources, even though everything has to be shipped out to her, so she probably frequents whatever the troll equivalent of Wish and Amazon are a LOT, probably has a bunch of dumb wizard flarping gear that she really likes, as well as “edgy” and “sinister” flarping gear that really just makes it look like she shops at Troll Hot Topic. She lives in a tree, so she probably waxes poetic about the sound of wind rushing through the branches much like she had that lil tangent about the sound of rushing water underneath her canon home. Meeting her lusus in her dreams and learning how to “see” with her nose would probably just make her even more inquisitive about the world around her, another method by which she can take in information, though Dave probably makes a lot of jokes about how “nosy” she is B) Rose has a Scalesona and she and Jade roleplay together ALL THE TIME. Rose being the Seer of Mind would probably result in her role being someone who sees into the minds of others and can understand their psyche. A blinded Seer (not physically blind, but like, magically blind) would have issues seeing the good or ill intents of those around them, and probably just blindly hope that things will work out for the best without critically thinking about a person’s actions and motivations, while a Seer that came into her godhood would be, well, something like a therapist, something like a psychologist, something like- Rose. What I’m saying is Rose’s interests absolutely line up with being a Seer of Mind very fucking closely. She’d love that role give it to her please.

Jade Peixes would be quite similar to Feferi, I think. Being a child, and a very monetarily privileged child, she’d likely have a skewed perception of the world and very lofty, well-intentioned, but ultimately juvenile plans. “Kill the Condesce, rule Alternia, make everybody be nice to each other” would sum it up pretty nicely, and I could picture her being a little condescending herself. Probably still bottles her own emotions and cares too much about what other people are feeling and if she can help them out at all, and idk if Eridan is still around in this AU but if not it’d be fine because Jade, like Feferi, is a fucking kickass STRONG girl (or, gill, as it might be ;3) who can haul whales on her own. Probably has a bunch of fancy ion rifles and whatnot and only uses her trident for ceremonial stuff. Wouldn’t enjoy killing animals because she likes those a lot and is enamored with how cool animals are, but a duty is a duty and unless she has a friend or datemate to help her out then she’s the one who’s gotta do it. Probably thinks her mom is really badass, even though she’s pretty strenuous a lot of the time. Rose is very likely the only person who can get her to open up about how sucky having to take care of her is, bc, again, Jade does not like to talk about her feelings, but Rose is as nosy as she is loving so hey it works out. As Witch of Life, Jade is probably filled with enthusiasm at the fact that she can bring about LIFE. She doesn’t have to kill anything she doesn’t want to anymore, just some battle imps and those are just Game constructs anyway, she’s a HEALER, someone who can impart life into others! Gone are the nights of having to kill things just so she could avoid killing other things, her focus can move away from death, and focus instead on growth, on life, on Life, and that’s so wonderful! She’s so, so HAPPY with her role, she is all but too glad to move mindsets from focusing on death to instead flourishing with life. Probably gets along with the horrorterrors of the furthest ring really well and says hi to them whenever she’s on Derse. They’re like, her weird great-aunts and uncles, sort of, her mom was their emissary so she’s sorta like, every horrorterror’s baby sister/niece. 

John Zahhak! Strong boy against. It is a role meant to help him grow not by challenging him in ways that help him into his role, which allows him to flourish, but challenges him by forcing him to go against his natural inclination, against what he’s used to, against what he was raised with, against his own expectations. He has to fight against staying quiet on the sidelines always watching, never engaging, so that he can become involved with his friends and engage in healthy emotional interactions. He has to fight against his own upbringing, that told him that he was important and others weren’t. Has to fight against the idea that has been pounded into his head over and over and over again that the world is cold and harsh and uncaring and he has to realize that life is as kind as we make it, and there is kindness in him, there is goodness in him, and he has to step out of the shadows and DO something with that.

Dave Vantas. Hoooooo. Paranoid boy. Very paranoid boy. Thinks the WORLD of his crabby dad. Very very twitchy. I can’t really see Dave getting particularly angry or short fused, but I CAN see him being deeply insecure which leads to him saying things he doesn’t necessarily mean in order to make himself feel/seem better, which inadvertently hurts others. Rose is a MENACE in his life because she’s very snoopy and he is secretive for a REASON Rose! He loves her dearly tho. Probably thinks that John is “cool” and “aloof” and “mysterious” when really John just doesn’t know how to engage. Very likely still makes shitty comics and they more than likely satirize the caste system, also the rigidity of quadrants. So like, it SEEMS like he’s making general run of the mill schlup to any algorithms looking for civil dissent, but people who pay attention can tell that Dave is actually doing some pretty quality satire for a tiny child and it’s some quality stuff, by which I mean the quality is terrible as Andrew Hussie is evil. Knight of Blood means he’s fiercely protective of his friends, and with Crabdad’s upbringing, he’s a right menace to anything he considers a threat. Is the mom friend of the group. “Have you eaten today?” “You need to eat” “So help me god I will go to your planet and feed you myself if you do not put some food in your body” “No popcorn is not a meal eat actual FOOD.” Being protective of his bonds likely means he still has some pretty fierce abandonment issues tho, and likely is still just as much of an attention whore as he is in canon because he needs to know that his friends still love him and want him around and care about him. It’s very important to him, but he winds up coming off as clingy which he HATES because he can feel himself doing it but at the same time he really really really could use the reassurance that he’s not being annoying but he feels like if he asks to much that MAKES him annoying and who does he even think he is, anyway. His blood color is a source of p big anxiety for him and he’s likely internalized a lot of the “if you’re hot blooded youre not important” rhetoric of Alternia. Fortunately, it is his bonds with his friends that then turn around and keep him safe from himself, because all his friends love him and absolutely do NOT value him any less just because he’s hot and off-spectrum, and yeah okay he can get a little annoying but they don’t think he’s annoying as a person! Just every now and then. They probably all do some stupid friendship gesture like in Yugioh or smth so Dave can always know that his friends love him and it’s cheesy and ridiculous and they all love it. 

Neat swaps! People of the same Classes are quite similar, looks like :O!

#Rose Lalonde #Jade Harley #John Egbert #Dave Strider #Rose Pyrope #Jade Peixes #John Zahhak #Dave Vantas #I love typing Dave Vantas bc it makes it seem like they're married and Dave took Karkat's last name #@Hussie give me a canon Davekat wedding PLEASE #answers #Homestuck #John #Dave #Jade #kidswap #trollswap #trollstuck #idr how I tagged the last one #Homestuck meta #analysis #meta

[thatcrappypuppy]

Goodness i hope your still doing the shipping with Rocket thing cause i only just gathered the nerve to send this XD Anyhoo,i'm 5'2, grey eyes, pale with light blond long hair. Kinda chubby and lazy,favorite things is to draw, listen to music, and play games Also love science things and stuff. Pretty quiet, let others do the talking, but say random jokes sometimes but other than that im very shy.Tend to only have a few people im close to and love to hug. Thanks for writing so much good stuff!!!

Hi there, sweetie! I’m glad you submitted, just sorry I took so long to complete the shipping! I’m still pretty sick but I’ll write anyway because I miss you guys. Also oops abandoned bullet points in this post. It’s like a fic, now. Sorry if that’s a problem. Thanks for participating and I hope you enjoy!

You were part of a mostly unsuccessful intergalactic-interspecies inclusion sponsorship that brought you and your “Earther art” to Xandar. You didn’t enjoy being considered a backwards, inferior race, but, you were grateful for the opportunity to see so many new and exciting people and places. One of those people was Rocket.

You were drawing a picture of the adorable alien, in total wonder as to how a raccoon came to be sentient and bad-mouthing Xandarians, when Peter Quill helped himself to a seat next to you.

“Hey, that looks pretty good!” Without warning, the man took your book, calling out “Rocket! Look at this! This drawing actually makes you look handsome.” You wondered if you should retrieve your work (which you needed, as Quill had taken the whole damn thing) or just run away and claim your art was destroyed and hope your Xandarian supervisor/mentor gave you a new sketch pad.

“I didn’t know you could draw,” Rocket said.

“What? No, I can’t. What makes you think I drew this?”

“I don’t know anybody else stupid enough to use these materials instead of storing it on a tablet.”

Well, that about convinced you to bolt. But, Quill chased you down - with the Guardians in tow - to return the sketchpad and apologize for stealing it in the first place.

It took everyone’s efforts to get you to say more than one-word answers, but, they eventually figured out that you were in an art program.

“Sounds stupid, if ya ask me,” Rocket crossed his arms.

“Well, nobody asked you!” Quill nearly smacked his head, lightly, but Rocket dodged.

“Hey! I’m only sayin’ that it’s a waste of time. You’re not gonna find anything pretty to draw, here. You should come with us - we see way cooler stuff all the time.”

It was a fantastic offer. One that you didn’t feel at liberty to accept. Besides, you weren’t even sure if the sassy raccoon meant it.

Instead, you remained in Xandar’s capital. You had the best chance of running into the guardians by hanging around Nova Corps, and your supervisors appreciated whenever you drew their buildings and uniforms in a flattering light.

You didn’t expect the Guardians of the Galaxy to ever pay attention to you, especially with their growing notoriety and new members, but they often managed to find you and catch up. Peter wanted to know about Earth music, if it had gone as downhill as he believed. Groot, according to Rocket, wanted you to draw him and would remain still, in a pose, for as long as it took for you to notice and draw him.

Rocket, especially, paid attention to you, which both delighted you and made you nervous. He’d watch you draw Groot, interrupt conversations between you and Peter, offer you rides “to see somethin’ as pretty as you,” or “as pretty as you can draw,” and ask about what stupid things you’d been assigned to draw. He was the first to tell you what important missions they’d been on. He’d brag about which one of his inventions saved the day. He’d show off his weapons to you, only to be admonished by Gamora for brandishing them in public.

“Why did you even bring that thing? It’s dangerous!”

He enjoyed that you paid attention to him, that you drew him, as Peter had put it, handsomely, that you were kind to Groot, and that you seemed genuinely interested in his gadgets and remembered the terminology used for them. He appreciated every time you smiled at his arrival, marvelled at his work, or blushed at his compliments to you. But, no matter how many dashing - albeit snarly - smiles he sent your way or how many times he offered you to go with them, you found some excuse to stay behind, some way to protect yourself from embarrassing yourself, some way to prevent them from realizing how useless you’d be on their ship.

When your program was over, you were given a ride home, which you accepted with obedience, thanking your supervisors for the opportunity. You sat with the few other Earthlings that had been selected. You never really got to know them in your months on Xandar. In fact, you were certain most of them didn’t even speak English, but didn’t feel the need to chat with them.

You were relieved to return to somewhere familiar and to be reunited with your close friends. But, you couldn’t shake the sad feeling that you were leaving the same number of friends behind, and without even telling them you were leaving. They were sure to dislike you, now, if they ever really liked you in the first place.

Since it was a ship full of Terrans, nobody expected anyone to interfere with your return to Earth. There were few guards on board and even fewer weapons and defense systems. They definitely didn’t expect to be attacked and boarded.

“Rocket! Can you tell us what we’re doing, already? I don’t want to go back to being a criminal!” At the sound of Peter’s voice and the mention of Rocket, you perked up in your seat, where you had, previously, been slumping into out of fear.

“Yes, we have enough on our hands thanks to your thievery with the Sovereign!” Gamora’s voice joined in.

“Breaking into a Nova ship is not wise, even if it filled with weaklings,” that was Drax’s voice. Were all the guardians here?

Rocket lead the way into the room, gun slung over his shoulder, successfully, though effortlessly, threatening away any guard that thought to protect the Earthers on board. He cast a disgusted glare around the room until he caught sight of you. Then, he grinned and pointed.

“There! See? I told you they had taken one of our friends!”

Peter walked in, saw him pointing at you, and sighed.

“Sorry, Y/N, we’re not gonna kidnap you, Rocket’s just-”

“Kidnap?” Rocket barked, looking up at Quill. “Y/N wanted to come with us, didn’t you?”

Everyone was looking at you, leaving you speechless.

“Ugh, man, we gotta work on your words. It’s a good thing I ain’t as quiet as you, or else you’d be goin’ back to Quill’s dumb planet.”

With that, he grabbed your hand and dragged you to what was left of the Eclector.

It took many codec calls to verify that, no, you were not being kidnapped and, yes, you would go back to Earth, at least temporarily, so that your relatives and friends could attest to your health and safety. The whole team chastised Rocket for not telling them, first, and for abducting you, even though he insisted that you had said you were okay with it. You were quite certain you had never said any such thing, but pretended, for Rocket’s sake, that you had.

“Y/N, seriously, if you want to go back to Earth, just let us know,” Quill assured you. You nodded. When left alone with Rocket, you asked him why he did it.

“For you, of course,” he said, looking you dead in the eye as he confidently had the nerve to tell you what you wanted. “I told ya I’d take you to see something better than Xandar.”

“Well, thanks for abducting me, then.”

“Any time,” he bared his teeth at you in a smart-ass smile. Then, his ears flicked back and he turned away. “And besides, I know ya like me and would miss me.” He said this with the same self-assured tone you were used to from him, but his posture suggested that he wasn’t actually that sure. You stood still, not wanting to deny it but not having the courage to elaborate, either. After a moment of silence, he looked at you as you wrung your hands.

“Aw, flark, do I really gotta do everything?”

He tugged on your arm until you bent down enough for him to pull you into a kiss. Your eyes were wide with surprise, but, seeing his close tightly from his nerves, you decided to the same. You weren’t sure what to do with your hands and were grateful when he grabbed them in his. Despite all his bravado, he was gentle and didn’t push you, giving you every opportunity to protest, which he knew you would be shy to do and had no intention of taking advantage of that.

He pulled away sooner than you’d have liked.

“You, uh, do like me, don’t you?”

“Yeah.” A lot. You didn’t say that. You wanted to, but you didn’t. His grin told you that he knew.

You had been afraid to draw him again, before, but, after that, your sketchbook contained a lot more Rocket.

#blam! shipped you! #rocket raccoon #rocket x reader #guardians of the galaxy

[thetakenpokemon]

Act 2 - The Wardens of Richfield

[PoV: Silence]

I admit when we were teleported...I also felt the very queasy due to my body not being used to it, however unlike Seraph...I didn’t empty the contents of my stomach in the grass.

When she finished heaving I carefully helped her up, I could see that she’s clearly embarrassed of her display of weakness as well as infuriated at Asmund’s comment. But I give her a hopeful smile, which she eventually returns weakly.

Her and I, we have a strong friendship with one-another. The two of us may have come from very different backgrounds, but we both share something in common...which is that we both joined the Guardians of Twilight through the Exchange Program. Due to the alliance that the guild has with my clan and the Templars, we have been chosen by our own people to learn under the GoT in order to bring us closer.

I have learned a great deal under their guidance...and I feel that my skills are being used for good, to know that I’m bringing down creatures that wish to spread harm is a very satisfying thing.

Pahaliah shares this view, although she also searches for the possibility of redemption in our foes. It is something I admire her for, since it’s something that no one else would do. When we began being paired together, our own friendship grew.

However...I’ve noticed she seems to feel that it’s her duty to protect me as well, as if I’m an emotionally vulnerable individual. Although words are known to hurt me more than I should let them, I'm not what she often assumes. I am capable of holding my own, I can shrug off hateful words.

But no matter how many times I’ve assured her....she continues to jump to my aid, eventually I gave up on trying to convince her since my protests are unfruitful.

“Purging Light, please give me your attention.” Nightshade requests of us, the black Delphox’s words rousing me from my thoughts.

I feel myself immediately snap to attention, the discipline my clan drilled into my mind quickly kicking in. I look at her with a stoic expression, my body unmoving.

Heh...

I remember them telling me that I don’t need to behave in such a way towards them, but such a habit is very difficult to break due to how forceful my elders were.

Seeing the amused look on Nightshade’s face makes me grin sheepishly, I bow my head slightly in apology which she merely shakes her head in response.

I’ll eventually break out of it for their sake, but for now...I need to hear what she wishes to say.

[PoV: Asmund]

Heh, typical...

I half-expected the fox to come up with a sort of battle-plan, but nope. Instead it’s about ‘finding accommodations’ and how we need to properly prepare ourselves before we make the journey into the forest.

I simply want to get this fight over with...and yet apparently these Pokemon need more than a couple of hours to prepare for a battle that might not even last that long.

They all went towards one of the nearby buildings where I assume they sleep in along with that crazy Gardevoir that brought us here. Even though they told me to follow...I don’t feel like it.

Why do I need to follow? It’s not like I can fit into any of these damn structures anyways, they’re obviously not built for giant metal golems in mind. ‘Follow me, everyone’ Jezebel says, ‘I will negotiate for rooms to house us’ she says.

Sure, negotiate rooms for those who can actually fit inside. What will you do for me? Ask for me to stay in the stables or some whatever fucking place this primitive town has?

Hell...no... I’m not gonna follow just to hear that, if I’m staying in a barn...then they’ll have to come to me to say it to my face.

Instead I take a different direction and proceed to walk my own path, not giving any of the folks a passing glance. I knew that my presence alone spiked fear, seeing how skittish they act ‘round me.

And they SHOULD be scared. When in the presence of something that can crush you with ease, you’d better feel fear if you possess at least a grain of intelligence.

“What kind of Pokemon are you?!” A sudden squeaky voice asks me, the sheer excitement in the voice making me stop.

Speaking of grain of intelligence, or more ‘lack of’...

I look down at my feet to see a Mienfoo staring up at me, her eyes filled with a child-like wonder.

Now I’ll admit, it’s unusual for a kid of all things to approach me since I’m used to them running and screaming to their mommies. But apparently this one’s parents aren’t supervising her, why do I say that? Because no responsible parent would let their child approach a giant war machine.

Now...how should I react?

Should I kindly answer her question? Should I tell her that I admire her bravery and how very few approach me? Should I laugh at the question and offer her a ride on my shoulder?

...

...

No...fucking...way...

No one gets special treatment, not even a damn child who doesn’t know better.

Not to mention she’s assuming that I’m a Pokemon, so I’ll ‘enlighten’ her.

My fist clenches tightly as I take an intimidating step towards her, the limb completely dwarfing her. “I...am...not...a...Pokemon.” I growl, making her eyes widen fearfully.

Good, now she’s realizing that she needs to fear me.

“I will say this once, so listen good.” I continue coldly. “Don’t talk to me, don’t approach me. I don’t want to converse with any of you Pokemon, I don’t want to ASSOCIATE myself with any of you.” I take another step forward, my frame completely towering over her. “I am here to kill something, nothing more...nothing less. I don’t want to waste any more of my damn time with you people, the fact that I’m not out there killing something right now is making me more and more angry.” I lean down, my body casting a shadow over her. “So...if you approach me again? I will show you the exact reasons why I am a very...scary man.”

With tears welling in her eyes she screams and runs off, presumably back to her irresponsible parents.

Heh, I can hear it now.

‘Asmund? Why did you threaten a child of all things? She was only curious! Her question was innocent and it didn’t hurt you to answer it in a civilized manner!’

Fuck...off...

I don’t want to associate myself with Pokemon more than I have to. Hell, the only damn reason why I’m even a part of this Team is supposedly because of this ’Buddy System’ they have.

That’s a damn lie, I know it as a fact. They don’t trust me to work alone, that I’ll do something that they wouldn’t like.

But here’s the thing, I’m about to give a little education that all of you damn people need to wrap your mind around.

My body is built to kill, so I kill. I didn’t ask for this, I didn’t WANT this. But since this is all I have left, I’m gonna do a damn good job at it.

With this body I’m gonna purge this world of everything that doesn’t deserve to walk it.

Pokemon, Human, Uber Beast or whatever the fuck they’re called... If they’re on a high-seat believing that they’re invincible and that they can do whatever they want, then I’m gonna be the one to ground them.

I’m the janitor that’s cleaning the scum off this planet, if I’m sent to go after something...then I intent to end the issue permanently. Kill the monster, and it does bad things no more. Simple as that, but sometimes a certain bird-brain can’t wrap her head around it.

And here’s another thing, even if I’m doing the world a favor...I don’t have to like the people who walk on it.

I do shit because it’s all I can do, so just because I’m ‘saving the world’...I don’t have to care about those that live here.

With a grunt I turn my head...only to see Nightshade giving me a look of disapproval, apparently having witnessed the entire ordeal. In fact...I see that a lot of the primitive villagers are looking rather angry now, apparently they don’t take too kindly to the little tykes being threatened by a giant metal machine.

Well what do I say about it?

Boo fucking hoo, the sooner kids learn fear the better they’ll be off in the future. Because for all I know, the next time they walk up to to ask a giant robot ‘Hey, what fucking thing are you?’ could end up being smashed into toothpaste.

So what am I doing? I’m doing them all a favor by preventing that from happening, by killing those dangerous robots and teaching kids not to approach them in the first place.

“Asmund-” The Delphox begins, her voice matching the disapproval on her face. However I don’t let her talk, because I’ve got other things that need answering.

“What barn am I staying at?” I interrupt with a growl, causing her to blink.

The girl’s not gonna pull the leader card, not now at least.

She stays silent for a few moments, as if mulling over my question. But seeing that her damn look has been completely wiped off her face, it means that I guessed right on that I’m staying at a barn.

“...It is a stable.” She sighs, pinching her nose. “Located at the edge of town, a Rapidash family is allowing you to use it during our stay.”

So it was a fucking stable after all, run by horses of all things. “Figures...” I growl. “Fine, whatever. As long as they don’t bother me, I’m good.”

With that I turn and walk off, even if she didn’t tell me which direction it is...I’ll find it eventually. I don’t want to deal with Pokemon right now, it’s just gonna get me more and more pissed.

...

However...one thing I will say, it’s pretty ironic that a family of sentient horses end up having a stable.

Then again, why am I surprised? With how much they try to branch away from ‘Humans’, they end up doing a lot of things that make them appear more and more stupid.

But what can I expect? They’re Pokemon, because of this they’ll forever be flawed no matter how much they say.

They’ll think that they are something above us, something ‘better’.

But in reality...they just continue to sink further and further down...

#silencenidoviper #seraphdecidueye #nightshadedelphox #asmundgolurk #guardiansoftwilight #act 2 #plot

[baguettelord]

MER week :D

So yeap I’m actually being productive this time (albeit slowly) and contributing to a THING :O (I know its weird, right?) so I decided to do a bunch of little drabble thingies about one of my Sheps (thanks to @Cactuarkitty for the advice). Post-destroy seemed fitting, soooo yeah. Here’s the first one. For general context she was in a coma at the time and this is her dream. :o ~ Mercedes Shepard A/N I’m terrible at editing so there is probably some repetitive words in here and stupid typos or words missing etc. x_x

***WARNING*** this contains some pretty graphic violence (IMO) and also HINTS at sexual assault/rape/etc or torture/murder depending on how you read it.

               Her hands were sweaty and hot, fingers poised on the threat of slipping from the rough grasp of her father’s calloused hand. He was pulling too hard, twisting her wrist on a painful angle, threatening to wrench her left arm right out of the joint.

               Her breath was short, jagged and burning in her chest. Legs protested, stiff from sleep, as they ran through the edge of the cornfield, barely obscured from the view of the dirt road. The dry, dusty leaves tore at her already cut and bleeding face, slashing her bare arms, stinging wherever they sliced her.

               “Faster”, her father grunted, his voice low, gravelly and laced with a subtext that struck terror into her heart.

               In that moment, she turned her grime-smeared face skywards.

               The sun was setting, casting the scattering of clouds in a halo of fire, and the atmosphere itself seemed to catch alight. Columns of smoke billowed high above the settlement and blew across the farmland, dusting everything with ash. The tiniest breeze carried only distant screams and gunfire to her ears, shattering any innocence that remained in a sixteen year old.

               Mindoir was burning.

               And suddenly she was wrenched to the ground, her father’s hand silencing her cry of pain, shielding her from whatever manner of vehicle roared by on the road.

               The scream of protesting brakes, a hiss of pressurised air, and a small cloud of dust, kicked up as whatever it was ground to a halt. A pair of boots hit the ground, then another, then even more…a squadron?

               Her father met her terrified eyes, bringing one short, shaking finger to his lips. She tried to swallow but her throat refused to comply as he slowly moved into a crouching position. She couldn’t see the road, couldn’t see past him, only his rough, dirty figure hunched over her like a bear guarding its den.

               “You see something, Kaarek?” the voice was low, guttural, and overwhelmingly batarian.

               “Not sure, boss”, another, presumably Kaarek, responded, a note of amusement in his voice. “Could make a game of it, if it is something, though…”

               She stuffed her fist into her mouth to stifle the whimper that rose in her chest.

               Her father was creeping away, parting the stalks ever so carefully, moving with all the silence of a trained predator. In that moment, all doubt of his heroic exploits in the Alliance left her mind. She followed him with her eyes, until all she saw was the occasional glimpse of his worn leather jacket through the yellowed leaves.

               Barely within her sight, he suddenly broke into a run, tearing away towards the centre of the field and making as much noise as a rampaging krogan.

               The batarians took immediate notice, roaring foreign battle cries and words that could only have been expletives. They charged into the field, trampling the spent crops and carving a path directly behind the old farmer.

               A tiny voice in the back of her head told her that his limp meant the time he had bought for her would be very little. Another, louder voice, screamed that her father was about to die. Her chest expanded with a trapped scream and she bit down on her hand as hard as she could to fight it off.

               For an eternal second, she struggled to grasp her reality, tears pouring down her filthy, bloodied face, searing into the scratches. She choked on a gasp, then drew a shaky breath, then a steadier one, then held it and forced herself to her feet, half-crouching like a wounded animal.

               She crept towards the road, peering out at what appeared to be a stolen M35 Mako. This belonged to Ignatias Remunde, the man who owned most of the farms in the disctrict, including her family’s. The once brand new, glossy paint job was now scarred with black scorch marks and spatterings of what could only have been blood.

               She took a moment to peer around the road, recalling the varren culling ‘missions’ she’d gone on with her father in the last year or so. She could hear the feral barking of the raiders hunting her father, the distant sounds of the settlement being ravaged, the screaming…but the road around the Mako seemed to be silent.

               Parting the jagged stalks as quietly as possible, she slowly moved towards the abandoned vehicle, wincing as the leaves rustled ever so slightly. Pausing at the last row of corn, she did another quick scan of the area and, keeping as low as she could, ventured out of the sheltering field.

               She had almost reached the aft of the Mako when she was alerted to the fact it wasn’t quite as abandoned as she’d assumed.

The distinct crunch of fine, dusty gravel under a heavy boot preceded the towering batarian that stepped out from behind the vehicle. His cold, black eyes radiated a combination of hate, evil and something that made her stomach churn. A jagged scar stretched across his throat, curling up to the corner of his mouth, which was twisted in a savage snarl and baring the most horrifying row of needle-sharp teeth she had ever seen.

Spluttering in terror, she scrambled backwards, skating on the loose gravel and falling gracelessly to the hard surface of the road. Growling something low and unintelligible, the batarian approached and she threw her arms over her head, cowering and twisting to cover her unprotected abdomen.

His gloved hand closed over her left arm roughly and she automatically struggled to loosen his grip. There was a muttered curse and he struck the side of her face hard, she sharp edge on the back of his armoured hand cutting deeply across her cheek, all the way to the bridge of her nose.

Momentarily stunned, she struggled to focus as bright spots popped into her vision. The offending hand grabbed her by the jaw, turning her head forcibly so that she could see his sickening smirk. In that moment, she had no doubt what was about to happen to her.

Suddenly, a shotgun blast rang out somewhere nearby, followed immediately by the triumphant hooting of the batarians. Her face went slack, eyes glassy and blank as her captor turned in the direction of the sound.

Then her brain ticked over.

Her father was dead. Her mother and sister were…lost. Her farm, settlement…her planet was on fire. Countless innocents were undoubtedly lying dead in the streets, and even more taken hostage, certain to be sold as slaves back on Khar’shan.

She felt…cold, like an insignificant, lifeless pebble buried under a millennia of ice. And at the same time, she was somehow a raging inferno, full of burning hate, her blood searing in her veins, heart about to explode.

Her right hand, almost of its own accord, balled into a fist, nails digging into her palm hard enough to draw blood. Her first omni-tool, a gift she’d received at her most recent birthday, loaded with the bootleg omni-blade she’d cobbled together in her spare time and still hadn’t tested.

But caution had evaporated entirely.

One young, feminine hand grabbed onto the gauntlet affixed to the arm that restrained her, teeth bared in a snarl that parted into a roar. Her fist came up as the omni-tool flickered into being, immediately forging the long, curved blade. Glowing brilliant amber, it radiated heat that burned into the back of her wrist and hand as it streaked towards the batarian.

Illegal for a reason, the entirely overpowered blade cut straight through his barrier and sunk into his armour as though it were made of tin foil. He struggled, gurgling something incoherent as it began to cook him like a jacket potato.

The tool spurted and sparked, sputtering into nothing and causing the now thoroughly dead batarian to slump heavily over her. His sizzling, semi-clotted blood oozed from the partially melted slash through his armour, smearing all over her shirt as she struggled out from under him.

Panting and trembling violently, she got unsteadily to her feet. The strong smell of charred batarian almost made her vomit and her wrist was already beginning to blister. She stood there for a second, confused by the amount of adrenaline in her system, heart pounding, ears roaring.

A yell from across the field jerked her back to reality and she staggered towards the Mako, fingers twitching from the pain in her burnt arm. She fumbled with the hatch, panicking as the interface refused to comply. The guttural shouting was getting closer and more insistent; clearly the batarians had hear her kill their comrade.

She slammed a fist down on the control panel in frustration, trying to blink back the darkness that loomed threateningly on the edge of her vision.

The horde of conflicting, terrifyingly deep voices were growing clearer and louder and she struggled to access the Mako’s system. Her heart raced as her fingers scrabbled to hack into the console.

The cornfield rustled, the growling words ceased, boots crunched on the dusty road. And then a voice, clear as day, human, and dripping with venom.

“You’ve failed”, it snarled.

She whirled, back pressing against the scarred Mako, feet spread into a defensive position through some sort of instinct she never knew she had.

And then she choked.

Kai Leng stood just feet away, arms spread wide with a cruel, mocking smirk on a face that had surely been handsome at some point. Behind him stood a small group of Cerberus Phantoms.

“No”, she whispered, horrified.

“That’s right”, he drawled slowly shuffling forwards, letting his boots scrape across the gravel with a sound like tearing paper. “You couldn’t kill me.”

“No”, she repeated, pressing back harder so that the armour plating jutted painfully into her spine.

“In fact”, he continued on triumphantly, one hand resting on the hilt of his weapon. “The only people you’ve ever been able to kill are innocent bystanders, your friends, your…family. Their blood is on your hands. The blood of a galaxy…”

Denial twisted through her brain as tears welled in her wide eyes. She shook her head forcibly, unable to accept his words.

“Face it”, he stopped, barely a meter from her, baring his teeth in a sadistic grin. “You’ve lost, Shepard.”

Recognition surged through her like electricity, even as the assassin impaled her on his gleaming silver katana. She coughed once, fingers weakly trying to grip the blade, slicing open and slipping against the metal in her own blood as she tried to pull it out.

The blackness swooped in to claim her, finally, mercifully…

#MERweek #fanfiction #mass effect #femshep #Mercedes Shepard #Mindoir #Kai Leng #Batarians #sorry for my terrible writing ;-;