#in the Good Timeline he does not have this syndrome; and he actively embraces exactly the degrading dehumanizing role he hated

[angorwhosebabyisthis]

[cws: psychiatric abuse, torture, homophobia, ableism, sanism, racism, pictures of taxidermy. boy this show is a lot sometimes lmfao]

-

so something @thecottageinthedark noticed recently that i'm still fucked up about is that pericles' cage in the asylum isn't actually a bird cage.

it's a bell jar.

for those who don't know what a bell jar is, it's a type of taxidermy display for preserving delicate specimens, most often birds. it's easy for their feathers to get dusty or disintegrate over time if they're left out in the open; a bell jar not only keeps off dirt and keeps people from touching them, but it's made to create a vacuum inside to keep everything where it is.

another layer to this reference is that the book The Bell Jar, by Sylvia Plath, is a retelling of her own experiences with mental illness and the attempts made to treat it at the time. notably, one of the major themes of the book is psychiatric abuse.

pericles is also not only a gay man forcefully committed to an asylum in what is most likely intended to be the 70s, but a very obvious and already horribly handled fantasy metaphor for both physically disabled people and POC. (in particular the talking animals' role in the worldbuilding heavily mirrors Black americans irl, which holy shit there is so much to unpack there all by itself. there is So Much)

(fun little bonus on the side: he's kept in a cell with extremely bright blue/white light 24/7, at an angle where it'd be even more difficult to block it out than if it were overhead. this would make it impossible to get any decent fucking sleep, which is widely recognized as one of the worst forms of torture to exist. they did this to him for 20 years straight.)

so, to recap: gay man and analogue for disabled people/POC, who is also portrayed as an ~evil crazy malicious psychopath,~ is kept in not only a display case for scientific specimens, but one specifically made--in-universe and out--to recreate something that is done to his demographic as a metaphorical disabled person/POC.

and not only that, and not only do people talk about him--in front of him, like he's not even there--as a specimen while gawking at him in this position, but he is being displayed like the stuffed and mounted corpse of a disabled person/POC.

he is said to belong on that display for 'the rest of his miserable [disabled/POC] life.' no one disagrees with this. he's painted as smugly bullying the violent abusive guard. in general he's portrayed as Scary and Evil Now for having been in this situation. and when he escapes, it kicks off what end up being the most heavy-duty problems for the protagonists, which result in the Bad Ending for the nibiru timeline; if he had stayed there, continued to be objectified and tortured with homophobic/racist/ableist violence for the rest of his life, the timeline almost certainly wouldn't have been doomed.

and they used a real person's autobiography about their experiences with psychiatric abuse for this. and to position them in the role of someone it should have not only happened to, but been even more horrifically dehumanizing and cruel.

yeah. i..... yeah.

the creators of this show are genuinely really good at putting together layered references like this, some more obscure than others, which are rewarding to discover and add depth when you do, and it is a crying fucking shame that they like to use it for shit like this. god damn lmao

#sdmi #scooby doo: mystery incorporated #professor pericles #cws in post #SDMItag #this is also why i very firmly believe that Other Parrot Behaviors of his were completely intentional #and i will be linking back to this post in future as evidence for that lmfao #anyway yeah jesus fucking christ i am defensive of pericles for A Few Reasons if You Can't Tell #do nooootttt get me started on the racism #uppity runaway slave who objects to being considered subordinate; inferior; an animal; and someone else's property #will get violent revenge on his oppressors the moment he embraces that objection and escapes imprisonment #and is only unhappy with being property because he's been driven crazy with Doesn't Want to Be Owned by Other People Syndrome #in the Good Timeline he does not have this syndrome; and he actively embraces exactly the degrading dehumanizing role he hated #and refused to accept and dedicated his life to breaking out of in the Bad Timeline where he's evil and crazy #this is used by other people to publicly humiliate him for profit; which he's Totally Not Humiliated by He's Happy Like This You Guys #sure cool great why not #love it #SDMIcrit tag #the crit files #thecottageinthedark

[prepare4trouble]

Star Wars Rebels fanfic - First Steps, part 9

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8

Okay, this is the final part of this particular fic.  There is more to come though, so keep checking the ‘little by little’ tag on mine or @pomrania‘s blogs, or you can follow the series over on AO3, but we update a day later over there.  Either way, thanks for reading, I hope you enjoy this last chapter, more is on the way.

Noisi sprung to life the instant they walked through the door.  He approached them on his humming wheels from the corner of the room, where he had been waiting in sleep mode for a patient to happen by.  “Ezra Bridger.  It has been twenty-one hours, seven minutes since your previous visit.  Although I appreciate your returning today, I would urge you to schedule and keep an appointment in future.  I had been hoping that you would be here earlier, and I have spent much of the day anticipating your return.”

Ezra glanced at Kanan, and then back at the droid.  “You have?” he asked.  “Why?”

“One does not often get the opportunity to study such a fascinating condition in any detail.  Especially not in such a remote and underpopulated locality.  The majority of my patients are not even suffering from eye complaints, which is my specialty; I spend much of my time tending to broken bones, lacerations, head injuries and the like.”

Ezra folded his arms across his body and wished that he could exchange a glance with Kanan.  

“As much as I offer to perform eye tests as part of the service, I am regularly turned down.  Perhaps your case will serve to convince others of the importance of monitoring eye health.”

He couldn’t do this.  Not right now.  Maybe never.  He turned to glance at the door, only a few steps away.  If he bolted, he might even get away before Kanan could stop him.  As his muscles tensed, ready to run, Kanan took a step forward.  He clasped a hand lightly on Ezra’s shoulder as he did, stopping him in his tracks.  “That’s probably enough, Enno-fifteen.”

The droid inclined its head a few degrees, and gestured to the large chair at the other side of the room with a wave of one of its limbs.  “Please sit.”

Ezra eyed the chair apprehensively.  There was no reason to be afraid of it.  The chair itself had had no bearing on what had happened the last time he had been here, it had just been the place where he had sat.  “Why?” he asked.  “More tests?”

“In my experience, it is the preference of most organics to sit during occasions such as this.  However, you may stand if you would find it more comfortable.  I have no need to perform any further tests today.”

Ezra considered this, then very deliberately crossed to the left side of the room and perched himself on one of the two beds pushed against the wall.  Noisi made an irritated sound, and propelled himself in the same direction.  “The chair is equipped with both a backrest and a footrest for your increased comfort.”

Ezra shuffled back a little and swung his legs back and forth, “I’m comfy here,” he said, in a tone of voice that begged the droid to challenge him.

“Ezra…” Kanan said, warningly.  He moved a little closer and leaned against the wall.

“Very well,” Noisi agreed, with what sounded suspiciously like a sigh.

It wasn’t comfortable, actually.  The bed itself was hard, and Noisi was right, the chair would have been much better.  He stayed right where he was.  “So, why do I need to be here?”

“The primary function of this meeting is to arrange a schedule of appointments in order to allow me to monitor your condition.  This could have been achieved the previous night, had you not chosen to leave before I had completed this task.”

“Hey,” Kanan cut in.  “I think he’d been through more than enough last night, don’t you?”

Ezra lifted his feet onto the bed and wrapped his arms around his knees.

“It is my understanding that the patient was already aware of his condition; I did little more than confirm the diagnosis.  I had no way of anticipating the amount of distress that confirmation would cause.  Which reminds me…”  

The droid moved across the room, opened a drawer and returned quickly, holding an object in his hands.  He passed it to Ezra, who accepted it before he even registered what it was.  It was soft, furry, and pleasantly squishy.  He looked at the object in his hands.  “Is this a loth-cat?”

“A synthetic tooka, of which yes, the loth-cat is one variety.  There is a high percentage chance that given your emotional response on our previous meeting, you would require additional comfort.  Please feel free to embrace it.”

Ezra stared at the droid.  “I’m not a child,” he said.  He started to hand the toy back, then stopped, finding to his embarrassment that he didn’t want to let it go.

“Technically incorrect, assuming the data we hold for you to be accurate; however, my programming suggests that most species of any age often prefer to engage in a displacement activity of some description when dealing with an uncomfortable situation.  If you prefer, I could offer you a sheet of paper to rip into squares, or some thin sticks which can be snapped into fragments.”

Ezra’s fingers stroked the soft fur of the toy, and he shifted his position so that he could hug that instead of his own knees.  He glanced at Kanan, a little embarrassed, but Kanan appeared either not to have noticed or not to care.  “No, this’ll do,” Ezra said, and squeezed it a little tighter.

“Very well.  Now, as I recall, you chose to terminate your appointment just as we were about to discuss the likely timeline for the syndrome.  Are you prepared to have this discussion now?”

He wasn’t.  He felt himself hugging the soft toy a little tighter as a vague sense of panic started to rise within him.  He took a deep breath.  Unbidden, from his position leaning against the wall, Kanan strode across the room and sat on the edge of the bed next to him.  “Okay,” Ezra whispered.  Kanan touched his back supportively and Ezra released the breath that he hadn’t realized he was holding.

“The early onset variety of Sacul Syndrome is relatively rare, and differs from the standard variety in a number of ways.  To be considered early onset, symptoms begin to appear anywhere between twelve and thirty years of age, however most commonly in the mid-teens.

“With the standard variety, vision declines over the course of twenty to thirty years, but in the vast majority of early onset cases, this timescale is reduced to a maximum of five years.”

“Wait,” Kanan interrupted.  “The majority?  So not always.”

Ezra felt his breath catch again, and he stared searchingly at the droid.  Could there be a chance… He tried not to allow himself to hope, but if he had longer than he had believed...

“Given the degeneration already observed, as well as the patient’s description of the time of the onset of noticeable symptoms, I have no reason to believe that this case will be anything other than standard.”

“Figures,” Ezra muttered.  He refused to allow himself to be disappointed.  He had known what to expect already.  It just would have been better if the droid had left that part out.  But that was fine.  Completely and totally fine.

Kanan shook his head.  “Listen,” he said, addressing the droid.  “I know you find this interesting…”

“On the contrary, ‘fascinating’ would be a much better descriptor.  The opportunity to study this syndrome, and perhaps add to the collective understanding of it…  Did you know that the cause of the early onset of symptoms is currently unknown?  Perhaps a detailed lifestyle interview could assist in the discovery of that answer.”

“And that would be great,” Kanan said, in a voice that sounded calm on the surface.  His emotions, communicated through the Force, were anything but.  “Another time.  Right now, how about we stick to the facts that are relevant to Ezra rather than worrying about things that aren’t?”

Ezra stroked his loth-cat.  Not loth-cat.  But it looked almost the same, and it reminded him of home.

Noisi gave an exasperated sigh, and somewhere at the back of his mind, Ezra pondered the reasoning behind whatever engineer had thought that would be a good thing for a medical professional to do.  “Very well.  As timescales vary, it is not possible to predict with any degree of accuracy the exact course the syndrome will take at this time; however, with further monitoring I will be able to provide this information.  For now, the patient…”

“Ezra,” Kanan supplied quietly.

“Yes, that is the name of the patient.  He can likely expect to have little to no usable vision in anywhere between two and three years.  Following this, further degeneration will result in a total lack of light perception within a further six to eighteen months.”

Ezra realized that he was tightly squeezing and twisting the fur of his loth-cat, and made a conscious effort to stop.  He smoothed the fur with trembling fingers.  “I need to go,” he said, and made a move to hop off of the bed.

Kanan’s hand clamped down firmly on his shoulder, stopping him momentarily.  He considered ducking down instead, sliding off the bed and fleeing, but reconsidered.  If he left now, he would only have to come back again.  If he could make himself stay, he would be justified in his refusal to return; it wasn’t like knowing exactly how long it was going to drag on for would benefit him in any way.  From what he could tell, Noisi just wanted him there so that he could study him.

“Is there anything that can be done?” Kanan asked.

The droid hesitated.  “Sacul Syndrome affects the vision in two ways.  The condition truly is fascinating!  The degeneration takes place simultaneously in both the retina and the optic nerve, though slower in the latter.  That means that a cybernetic implant would work in the short term, but given the recovery time, as well as the time that it would take to become accustomed to the altered input from an implant…”

“Get to the point,” Kanan told him through gritted teeth, “please.”

“By the time the… Ezra… had adjusted to the cybernetics, the condition would have begun to affect the optic nerve, rendering them useless.  I am sorry.”

Ezra nodded.  He had known as much, though he hadn’t understood the reasons.  The loth-cat sat cradled in his lap, his hand resting on its head.

“If you stop to consider it, the condition is really quite elegant, it could barely be more effective if it had been designed!”

Effective.  Great.  Well, at least someone was happy.

“So what’s the next step?” Kanan asked.

“Accommodation, adaptation.  Rehabilitation.”

Learning how to be b…  Like Kanan.

“As you are no doubt aware, I am not an expert in such matters, and under normal circumstances, the patient would have been referred to another professional for such things.  However, circumstances are not normal.  I have various texts which I can provide, which may be of use.  In addition, I may be able to make suggestions based on my own knowledge.  Outside of that, I believe that you may be the closest thing we have to an expert in that regard, Kanan Jarrus.  Perhaps you would accept a referral?”

Ezra could tell, even underneath the mask, that Kanan was frowning.  Slowly, he released the pressure on Ezra’s shoulder.  Ezra decided to take that as permission to leave.  He slid forward until his feet landed on the ground.

“When does he need to come back?” Kanan asked.

“I would suggest weekly for now, perhaps growing more infrequent over time.  Please remain where you are while I retrieve the necessary texts.”

Noisi wheeled over to the other side of the room and picked a large textbook and a datapad from the shelf.  He handed them to Ezra.  Ezra balanced them in one hand and attempted to hand the loth-cat back to the droid.

“That is yours to keep,” the droid said.

Ezra glanced down at the toy, then up again at the droid, not sure what to do.  He didn’t really want to be seen walking through the base with a stuffed toy under his arm.  But, on the other hand, he did want to keep it.  Finally, he pressed it to his chest and obscured it from view with the large book.  He folded his arms over the book, hiding the title, and made for the door.

Behind him, he heard Kanan exchange a few words with Noisi, before he followed him outside.

“So,” Ezra said.  “Never again?”

Kanan hesitated.  “I know he takes some getting used to, but I think it would be helpful to go back.”

He hugged the book, and the loth-cat, tighter to his chest.  “So he can start a countdown?  Maybe talk about how ‘fascinating’ and ‘effective’ it is some more?  No thanks.  He basically said he’s not going to be any use and asked you to take over, that says just about everything.”

“We’ll talk about it later,” Kanan said.

Ezra nodded.  He had a feeling he was going to win that argument, Kanan didn’t appear to see any real merit in returning either.

“He’s not all bad; he did give you a tooka,” Kanan added.

Ezra sighed.  As consolation prizes went, he could think of better.  “That’d be great if I was five,” he said.

Kanan shook his head.  “Don’t pretend you weren’t happy that you got to keep it.”  He hesitated.  “I still have mine too,” he added.  “But Hera borrows him from time to time.  Maybe don’t mention to her that I told you that, though.”

Ezra stared, trying to work out whether or not that was a joke.  It had to be, right?  His mind couldn’t quite connect the points to make it make sense, one way or another.  He hugged the book, and the loth-cat, a little tighter still.  “I’m just going to go,” he said.  “Unless you want… anything.”

“No,” Kanan told him.  He found Ezra’s shoulder with his hand once again.  “I think I can give you a few days to…” He sighed.  “Tomorrow,” he decided.  “You don’t want to get into the habit of not doing it, or it’ll be tough to start again.  And we need to talk about… but we’ll do that tomorrow as well.”

Ezra nodded, thankful that Kanan hadn’t insisted on doing anything there and then.  He just felt… not tired as such, more like drained.  Of energy, of enthusiasm, of anything.  All he wanted to do was sleep.  Maybe not even that.  Just to sit, to grieve.

“Here.”  He shoved the books into Kanan’s arms and kept the loth-cat for himself.  “Do something with these, I don’t want them.  I’m going to…” He pointed vaguely away from the main buildings, in the direction of his hiding spot, not sure whether Kanan was able to pick up on the gesture or not.

Well, he would start to find out that kind of thing soon enough.

He turned took off at a quick walk, the loth-cat partially concealed in his folded arms.

#little by little #star wars rebels #swr #fanfic #au #ezra bridger #kanan jarrus #feedback and comments are welcome #and appreciated