I've listened to TTPD three times now, twice alone and once at a listening breakfast with friends! Thoughts:
I liked quite a lot of it, but I'm not immediately blown away.
Current favorite is "The Bolter," followed by "But Daddy I Love Him," "The Prophecy," and "Florida!!!" in no particular order.
I loved the breadth of feelings that the album addresses. You really get a sense of a whole emotional landscape.
It's in strong and compelling conversation with Taylor's whole body of work without being too excessively self-referential. "thanK you aIMee" is the notable exception.
A lot of the songs are overwritten: she uses $20 words in place of $2 words, repeats herself, and dulls the power of what works by surrounding it with a lot that doesn't. If we go by Coleridge's definition that poetry is the best words in their best order, then yeah. She definitely needs an editor.
However, none of the lyrics that people seem to be highlighting as "cringey" bother me at all. I've always loved Taylor's proclivity for small details, even strange or out-of-place ones.
I would really love to gently help Taylor out with her literary allusions. They're a long-standing struggle for her, and even going in I was a little worried for that aspect of the album based on the marketing. Could've been worse, but most of them could still stand to be a whole lot sharper.
The songs tend towards very consistent production and tempo. Whether you want to call that cohesiveness or homogeneity is a matter of opinion.
My great, secret wish for this album was that it would feature a bunch of orchestra/strings, which would've meshed great with the dark academia vibe. Clearly, I didn't get it. Oh well
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💜 Yara
Thank you very much for the prompt, dear Anon!! <3 I hope you enjoy it!
💜 surprise kiss / impulsive kiss
This fucking Marine would not leave her alone.
“And so there I was, surrounded by forty of the nastiest, ugliest pirates in all of the South Blue! They were pointing their weapons at me, creeping closer and yelling curses far too crude to repeat in front of a lady. Bunch of disgusting savages.” The man took a swig of alcohol, pounding his mug against the counter.
Yara’s teeth gritted, staring down at the bottom of her glass as if it had gold in it. If it wasn’t for this ridiculously overpriced beverage-- some kind of pomegranate-flavoured thing that didn’t taste half as good as it looked on the menu board-- she would’ve been out of this shithole bar ages ago.
It was the first day that the Moby Dick had made shore in almost a month, and she had somehow managed to spend far too long of it stuck next to this loser who had just spent the last hour bragging about his impending promotion to Captain of the 453rd Branch or whatever. The shit-eating smirk on his face told her that women were usually fawning over him by this point, and the fact that she wasn’t apparently meant that she needed a little more persuading.
The Marine leaned closer to her, his breath reeking of cheap liquor. “So you know what I did next?”
“I couldn’t care le--”
“I grabbed hold of the steering wheel and swung the ship around! The bastards were so surprised, they didn’t even have time to grab hold of anything, so they all ended up tumbling into the ocean!!” He roared with laughter. “Can you believe that? See, the thing about pirates is that they’re all so hopelessly stupid.”
“Are they now?” Yara said flatly. She was increasingly tempted to push the edge of her dress back, fully revealing the tattoo that adorned her left leg. The only reason why she hadn’t so far was because she was loath to make the man think she was trying to entice him.
“You better believe it, sweetcheeks.” He winked. “And if you want my opinion, Gold Roger was the stupidest one of all. Some ‘King of the Pirates’ he was. I heard there wasn’t even much of a fight to bring the brute down.” Swallowing another gulp of his beverage, he turned to face her. “Now, enough about me. What’s a pretty little gal like you doing all alone in this part of town?”
“Who said she was alone?” a familiar voice spoke from behind them.
Yara’s heart leapt, a small smile creeping onto her lips as she finally glanced up from her half-empty glass.
Ace flashed the both of them one of his usual cocky grins before draping an arm over Yara’s shoulders. “There you are. I was looking everywhere for you.”
The Marine’s expression soured. He shuffled closer to Yara, his tone dropping. “What do you say we get out of here? A man of my rank can get a room at any hotel you fancy.”
Ace tsked. “Whispering isn’t polite, y’know. And there’s a big problem with your plan.”
“Oh? And what’s that?”
A devilish grin spread across the young pirate’s face. He withdrew his arm and reached forwards, fingers brushing gently under Yara’s jaw as he tilted her chin up ever so slightly. “She’s mine.”
Without a moment’s hesitation, he leaned in, his lips colliding with hers. Yara’s eyes widened, surprised by the sudden burst of affection, but they quickly fluttered shut. Ace’s hands had found her waist, pulling her in closer, the taste of pomegranate lingering between them as he deepened the kiss. Finally, he pulled away with a gentle nip to her bottom lip, leaving her breathless. Keeping one arm wrapped firmly around her midsection, he shot the Marine the most satisfied smirk Yara had ever seen.
The man’s lip curled as he slid off the bar stool and took a step towards Ace, trying to look menacing. “Oh, yeah? Who do you think you--” He stopped, his eyes landing on the ASCE tattoo on Ace’s arm. All the colour instantly drained from his face. “W-Wait a minute… I know you… You’re… You’re Fire Fist!!”
Ace tipped his hat at him. “That I am. Pleasure to meet ya.”
“But… that means…” His gaze slowly shifted over to Yara, finally noticing the tattoo poking out from under the hem of her dress. He gulped. “H-Hellcat Yara… It’s-- It’s the Whitebeard Pirates!!”
“And you say we’re the stupid ones,” Yara said disdainfully, watching as the man’s shaking hand reached for the sword strapped to his belt. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
His hand stilled for a second before grabbing the sword and whipping it out. “I’ll… I’ll capture you both! You have a combined bounty of almost one billion Berry, right?! I’ll be rich-- and a hero!!”
Ace and Yara looked at each other, then back at the quivering Marine. Yara let out a sigh, lifting up her glass.
Thunk!!
Before the man could move, she brought it down over his head. He slumped over, his sword clattering to the ground. The rest of the pomegranate-flavoured beverage splashed from the glass, dripping down his blank face.
“Wow.” Ace looked impressed. “That’s one way to solve it.”
Yara shrugged. “I’ve been wanting to do that for over an hour now. Besides, his flirting game sucked anyways.” She placed the glass down on the bar’s counter, sliding it over to the bartender who had apparently seen enough brawls to be completely unbothered by the situation.
Side by side, the two young pirates left the bar, stepping out onto the sunny street.
Ace’s stomach growled as they walked, making him chuckle. “All that excitement and I’m completely famished. Now whaddaya say I take you out for dinner? My treat.”
She laughed. “You say ‘treat’ as if you haven’t skipped the bill on every single date you’ve ever taken me on.”
“That’s true,” he conceded, grinning sheepishly.
Yara looped her arm around his, twining their fingers together. “I would love dinner. And to spend time with you as long as you’ll have me.”
Ace pretended to ponder it. “Well, if that’s the case, then… How about forever?”
Smiling, she leaned down and pressed a kiss against the crossed-out ‘S’ of his tattoo. “Forever sounds nice.”
tagging: @auxiliarydetective @oneirataxia-girl @daughter-of-melpomene
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PRECINCT 41'S PRINTER AND COPY MACHINE - You stand next to the precincts printer, putting paper sheets on it as if you were giving hay to a horse, slowly, stalling to actually operate the frightening machine
1- how do you operate the machine?
2- can't someone else do it for you?
3- interfacing (challenging godly) use the machine.
4- fuck this, I'm not dealing with this shit .
LOGIC - To use this machine, you need to know what you need it for first. While you are using it to photocopy some case files, you can also use it to print documents from a radio computer.
You've already done the basic copying steps, as you've put sheets of white paper in it, now you need to put the files you want to copy on the scanner, facedown, and then press the button "photocopy" it will stop copying once 15 seconds happen after you take your last page and the scanner stops sensing any new pages being put on it.
1- how do you operate the machine?
2- can't someone else do it for you?
3- interfacing (challenging godly) use the machine.
4- fuck this, I'm not dealing with this shit .
YOU - I'm a lieutenant, I have other things i should be doing, can't i really not ask someone else to do this?
ESPRIT DE CORPS - You are well aware C wing is understaffed, and that all the officers are equally as busy as you.
EMPATHY - Or taking their well deserved break. Just do this yourself
1- how do you operate the machine?
2- can't someone else do it for you?
3- interfacing (challenging godly) use the machine.
4- fuck this, I'm not dealing with this shit .
INTERFACING (CHALLENGING GODLY)- check failed.
PRECINCT 41'S PRINTER AND COPY MACHINE - You press the "photocopy" button on the machine and begin putting on your pages, one after the other with the skill of someone who's purely relying on muscle memory.
Once you're done, you look at your copies, but there's... Something wrong
PERCEPTION (SIGHT) (SUCCESS) - Look! Over there, in that page. Some of the letters and words didn't print right.
YOU - What?! I didn't do anything wrong!
INTERFACING - that's true. The issue is the machine.
YOU - Whats wrong with it?
INLAND EMPIRE - Too many things to begin listing, this machine is like you, but...
YOU - But?
INLAND EMPIRE - But if i had to say one specific thing, is that this machine hates you. It wants you to go to hell. Not just you, but all mankind.
YOU - Great, now i also have to deal with a fucked up evil machine
HALF LIGHT - all of them are. Using them is always a fight
DRAMA - you're always at their mercy, sire, you can't ever do anything that will purposefully let you win.
YOU - okay but what do I do now?
LOGIC - You could try to print the case file again, or you could try filling in the empty spaces yourself with a pen
VISUAL CALCULUS (FAILURE) - you have no idea which one would be faster, as you cannot predict how many trials it would take to get a proper print out of the files.
INLAND EMPIRE - I wouldn't recommend attempting it again, this machine wants to see you burn.
YOU - you leave the evil machine by itself, already wondering where you left your pen... And thinking about investing in some carbon paper, if only to ensure that your encounters with that thing will remain minimum.
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Here's a random assortment of quotes I collected in relation to Thrawn, the Chiss Ascendancy, the Grysks, and the Unknown Regions that caught my eye during my read-through of their canon material.
Admittedly, having finished typing them all out - they're mostly focused on the Ascendancy though the other topics of mentioned do get their own individual spotlights, even if they are a bit more dim
Hardly would I consider this to be an exhaustive exploration into either Thrawn as a character or the Ascendancy as a society, but rather minute things that pinged my attention as I read
HEAVY SPOILERS AHEAD, I can't stress enough to try and give the books themselves a try before reading through these and, should you choose to continue otherwise, please read through them at your own risk:
Nine Ruling Families
Ufsa
Irizi
Dasklo
Clarr
Chaf
Plikh
Boadil
Mitth
Obbic
Chiss Family Ranks
Blood
Cousin
Ranking Distant
Trial Born
Merit Adoptive
Political Hierarchy
Patriarch - Head of the family.
Speaker - Head of the family's delegation to the Syndicure.
Syndic Prime - Head syndic.
Syndic - Member of the Syndicure, the main governmental body.
Patriel - handles family affairs on a planetary scale.
Councilor - Handles family affairs at a local level.
Aristocra - Mid-level member of one of the Nine Ruling Families.
Military Ranks
Supreme Admiral
Supreme General
Fleet Admiral
Senior General
Admiral
General
Mid Admiral
Mid General
Commodore
Senior Captain
Mid Captain
Junior Captain
Senior Commander
Mid Commander
Junior Commander
Lieutenant Commander
Lieutenant
Senior Warrior
Mid Warrior
Junior Warrior
-
"Interesting offer," Anakin said. And now, finally, he was close enough. Taking a deep breath, he stretched out to the Force.
The intruder wasn't human, though of course Anakin had already guessed that. He was near-human, though, like many other species in the Republic.
But the texture of his mind was unlike anything Anakin had ever touched before. It was neat and well ordered, the patterns of though flowing smoothly and precisely in ways not unlike those of scientists or mathematicians. But the content of that flow, and the muted emotions accompanying it, were completely opaque. It was like a neat and precise array of unfamiliar numbers.
(Thrawn Alliances, p. 36)
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"I understood travel into the Unknown Regions was difficult."
"Indeed," Thrawn said. "The hyperlanes are few and not easy to traverse. But system jumps are possible if a traveler has sufficient time and is content with traversing limited distances."
"And if one was not content with limited distances?"
"One would need a careful study of the border," Thrawn said. "Millenia ago a set of chained supernova explosions throughout this particular region threw planet- and moon-sized masses at high speeds across the stars. The movements of those masses continually alter the hyperlanes, changing the paths in ways that are difficult to calculate. Other phenomena in other parts of the border created similar borders. The hyperlanes that remain largely intact are beset with other dangers."
(A Conversation between Thrawn and Vader, Thrawn Alliances, p. 64)
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"You will first appreciate that this is among the most closely guarded secrets of the Chiss Ascendancy," he said. "As I noted when we first reached this region of space, there are few stable hyperlanes into and through the Unknown Regions. Because of this, most species stay close to their own systems, preferring to travel along shorter lanes and unwilling to take the time necessary for the much slower jump-by-jump travel."
"But the Chiss do not wish to be so limited?"
"Indeed not," Thrawn said, a hint of contempt creeping into his voice. "For all their pronouncements of non-interference in others' activities, the Aristocras have a deep desire to know what those activities consist of. Our scouts range far and wide, entering even into the parts of space once claimed by the Republic and now claimed by the Empire." He gestured. "As you well know.""
"I have been so informed by the Emperor," Vader said stiffly. Again, Thrawn was poking uncomfortably close to the edge. "Tell me about the children."
"We do not have nav computers able to plot safe paths through the chaos of the Unknown Regions hyperspace," Thrawn said. "Nor do the Chiss produce appreciable numbers of Force-sensitives, though we call their gift Third Sight. But when such rare individuals are born, they come to us with but one ability, that of precognition."
And suddenly Vader understood. The same ability that allowed him to peer into the future far enough to know when and where an attack was coming was being used by the Chiss to sense dangers looming ahead of a ship in time to avoid them. "They navigate your ships," he said. "Finding and mapping temporary hyperlanes even as they steer new paths along them."
"Exactly," Thrawn waved a hand in the direction of the girls' quarters. "You can now appreciate the reason for our secrecy. An enemy wishing to duplicate our success cannot simply steal a computer or computer program. He must take rare and precious living beings from us." His eyes narrowed. "That cannot be allowed."
(Thrawn Alliances, p. 352)
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There was a flicker in Thrawn's sense. Vader looked up, to see a small smile on his face. "Do you find this amusing, Admiral?" he challenged.
"No, not at all, my lord," Thrawn hastened to assure him. "I was simply recalling a memory. I told you the Chiss call this talent Third Sight. What I hadn't yet spoken of is the title these navigators are given once they take their posts."
"Which is?"
"The Cheunh word is ozly-eschembo," Thrawn said. "In basic it translates to 'sky-walker.' " Another small smile. "You can imagine my momentary surprise when I first encountered General Anakin Skywalker."
(Thrawn Alliances, p. 360)
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For another moment Thrawn remained silent. Then he took a slow, measured breath. "Yes," he said. "Though ironically such devices are of no use to our own people. Yes it was a Chiss shuttle you saw, my lord. But my message to the Grysks, and its importance to the Empire still remain."
"Do they?" Vader countered. "Was your message to warn the Grysks away from the Empire? Or was it a warning to whatever group of Chiss are working with them that you are aware of their presence?"
Thrawn smiled faintly. But Vader could sense the pain behind the smile. "Why can it not be both?"
"Was it both?"
Thrawn turned away. "There were stirrings of political conflict when I left my people for the Empire those many years ago," he said. "I assumed the Aristocras would settle their differences, as they have so many times before. This time, perhaps they could not. Or perhaps the Grysks have made deeper inroads into our culture than I'd hoped."
Vader gazed at the Chiss, feeling the dark irony deep within him. "So you who have never hidden your contempt for the Republic's handling of the Clone Wars now stand on the edge of your own civil war?"
"Or have already taken our first steps into it," Thrawn said. "If one side is already under the control of the Grysks..." He shook his head. "Your earlier though was perhaps closer to the mark than you knew. Perhaps the true purpose of closing the border is to prevent me from bringing the Empire against them."
(Thrawn Alliances, p. 444)
-
"Acknowledged," Eli called back, mentally rolling his eyes. The majority of Chiss names were composed of multiple syllables in three distinct parts, the first of which identified the person's family, the second of which was the given name, and the third of which reflected some social factor Eli hadn't yet figured out. Since using multisyllable titles all the time could seriously bog down conversations -and worse, timely military orders- the normal convention was to use core names for everything except in the most formal situations.
(Thrawn Treason, p. 55)
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He turned, fixing her with such an intense look that she reflexively drew back a little. "What's happened to our capital, Ziara?"
"The same thing that happened to the whole planet," Ziara said quietly. "I'm sorry - I shouldn't have done that to you, but you're not supposed to know."
"To know what? That the people of Csilla are gone?"
"Oh, they're not gone," she said. "Well, yes, most of them are, but the big exodus happened over a thousand years ago. What they taught you in school about how the changes in the sun's output and the slow freezing of the surface forced the population of Csilla underground is mostly true. What the histories leave out is that the numbers that moved below were a far cry from the four billion who'd been living here at the time."
"Where did they go?"
"Other planets," Ziara said. "Mostly Rentor, Avidich, and Sarvchi. The Syndicure and fleet headquarters were kept here, along with a lot of cargo and merchant facilities. Some of the families moved their homesteads to worlds where they already had strong presences, but most didn't want to leave Csilla entirely."
"They also moved underground?"
"Right," Ziara said. "My family's new homestead - well, new as of a thousand years ago - is in a huge cavern about two kilometers below the surface. Still on our same land, of course. The Irizi are a bit obsessive about territory and history."
"So how many people actually live on Csilla?"
"Sixty or seventy million," Ziara said. "Though all of the official records put the number at eight billion. " She waved at the city around them. "All of this is just for show."
"For whom?"
"Our visitors," she said. "Our alien trading partners." She felt her throat tighten. "Our enemies."
"So a few continue to live aboveground to create the illusion," Thrawn murmured. "Light and heat are also maintained. Tube cars continue to travel across the remaining cities, pretending to be the traffic of a thriving population." He looked at Ziara . "I presume that on the far side our tube will descend into one of the tunnels?"
She nodded. "There are a few hundred people in Csaplar at any given time. They're rotated out frequently so they don't have to put up with the conditions up here for very long. The rest of the city - the real city- is spread out in caverns, mostly concentrated around the Syndicure complex. More illusion for our diplomatic visitors."
"And of course, most civilian visitors and merchants stay close to one of the spaceports," Thrawn said, nodding. "The activity there and round the government complex disguises the emptiness of the rest of the city.
(Thrawn Ascendancy: Chaos Rising, p. 247)
-
Thalias sighed. So embarrassing... "I was going to say you're ten now," she said. "And that reminded me that I missed your starday. I'm so sorry. With all that was going on last month, I just totally forgot it."
"It's okay," Che'ri said, hunching her shoulders. Her voice was quiet, and Thalias could hear the distant hurt beneath it. "It's not like I remember being taken to the skylight to see my first star. And, you know. Parties and treasure-puzzle poems are mostly for little kids."
(Starday Celebrations, Thrawn Ascendancy: Greater Good p. 25)
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"I'm currently on a wandering year, Councilor Lakuviv," Yoponek said. "I'm traveling the Ascendancy, seeking knowledge and experience outside the classroom walls."
"Ah," Lakuviv said, nodding. Wandering years were a staple of some families: a gap year after basic schooling when a young person could travel and learn, meditate and self-examine, before returning to advanced schooling or other job training.
Proponents of the program claimed it helped young people better decide their goals and talents in order to avoid false starts in future studies. Critics saw it as a waste of parental money, with little evidence that it did anything but allow the midager to wallow in an extended period of self-indulgent laziness. Cynics said its true purpose was to get them out form underfoot during what was traditionally the most pompous and condescending time in their lives.
(Wandering Years & "Midagers", Thrawn Ascendancy: Greater Good p. 57)
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Sky-walker Bet'nih was at the navigation station, with Caregiver Soomret standing behind her. Their presence meant no non-bridge personnel were permitted.
(Thrawn Ascendancy, Greater Good: p. 294)
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Jump to a system. Come out of hyperspace. Confirm position. Move through space-normal to the departure point necessary to line up for the next jump. Recheck possible hyperspace anomalies between jump points. Jump to the next point on the list, which was seldom more than five or six star systems away. Come out of hyperspace. Repeat.
(a description of jump-by-jump travel, Thrawn Ascendancy: Greater Good, p. 332)
-
"Again, Pathfinder, calm yourself," Jixtus said, more severely this time. "The Grysks lay blame only where it's deserved, and only on those who fail us. Each of our servants is responsible solely for his own decisions and actions, not for another's"
"Yes, sir," Qilori said, feeling his winglets and his tension subsiding. He'd never heard of a species by that name.
Or a faction, if that's what they were. Or a combine, or a gang, or something else entirely. A name by itself really didn't contain much information.
(Thrawn Ascendancy: Greater Good, p. 404)
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Many years ago, when Senior Captain Xodlak'in'daro first joined the Expansionary Defense Fleet, there had been an elaborate ceremony to celebrate her rematching form her birth family to the Xodlak family. Lakinda didn't remember much about the ritual except that it was big and flashy and completely overwhelmed her simple commoner tastes.
...
Of all the duties foisted on low-ranking family members, Aristocra Mitth'ras'safis had often heard the task of welcoming new merit adoptives to their formal rematching dinner was one of the worst. The newcomers were either highly skilled additions to the Mitth, in which case they tended to have an overblown opinion of themselves and their value; or they were freshly initiated into the Ascendancy military. Nearly all of the blood, cousins, and ranking distants opted out of reception duty, leaving most of the burden to fall on Trial-borns and other merit adoptives, none of whom had enough pull to avoid it.
(Rematching Parties, Thrawn Ascendancy: Lesser Evil, p. 35 & 39)
-
The Universal Analysis Group on Sposia was the clearinghouse where all alien artifacts and technology collected by the Ascendancy were taken to be studied. Most of the historical pieces eventually went to museums or art collections, while most of the technological items proved too damaged or fragmentary to be of any use and were either cataloged into storage chambers or simply destroyed.
But every so often a piece of technology was found that was complete enough to be studied. Those rare items were taken to a special underground complex where teams of scientists and techs worked painstakingly to coax out their secrets.
And occasionally - very occasionally- one of those was deemed of military value and moved to Vault Four.
(Thrawn Ascendancy: Lesser Evil, p. 53)
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"You're absolutely sure?" Thalias pressed again, smiling to herself. As the Springhawk's only two civilians, she and Che'ri were supposedly allowed to wear whatever clothing they liked on duty.
(Thrawn Ascendancy: Lesser Evil p. 63)
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But not just any warship. This craft was huge: three, possibly even four times bigger than the Whetstone. The bow bristled with clusters of spectrum lasers, with more lasers and missle tubes pointed toward the Kiljis from the massive weapons shoulders. Lines of running lights marked the flanks and dorsal spine, accenting the warship length and sheer presence.
(A description of a Grysk Shatter-class WarMaster. Thrawn Ascendancy: Lesser Evil p. 88)
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Millennia ago, the Chiss had traveled extensively in Lesser Space, where legends said the inhabitants used computerized machines to chart their way between the stars.
(Thrawn Ascendancy: Lesser Evil, p. 124)
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