#the fundamental difference between him and will is that will has a strong support network who did everything to save him

[wheelercore]

Its rlly funny to me when people say henry chose to perpetuate the cycle because 2 me its like. The guy was stuck in an insane pedophiles basement lab for 30 years id be crazy too.

#'chosing' implies he had a really had a choice but my man never stood a chance so jot that down #the fundamental difference between him and will is that will has a strong support network who did everything to save him #really that is the underlying theme of it all. not some inherent Good Person gene #henry creel

[itsuki-minamy]

PROFILE: HISUI NAGARE

Translation: Naru-kun Raws: Ridia

Real name: Hisui Nagare

Terms of address: Nagare, Nagare-chan, H.N. (Nickname in Jungle)

[PROFILE]

Birthday: November 11, Scorpio

Blood type: A

Age: 25 years. (At the beginning of the second season.)

[APPEARANCE]

Physique: 1.75 cm in height. Slightly thin guy.

Face, hair: Beautiful eyes. Pale skin.

Attire: Straitjacket.

Personal effects: Wheelchair.

[HABITS, SKILLS]

· He has a habit of saying "～Desu".

· Power of the information system through the network and strong capacity of the lightning system.

· It has the property of "modifying" and "rewriting" forcibly the functions and properties of various objects and spaces.

[IMPRESSION, OTHER NOTES]

· The image color is "green".

· A mysterious young man who has "restlessness" and "beauty".

· The "king of the networks" who controls the clan "Jungle", which is lost in the general public, from behind.

· A powerful and unknown "King" who challenges Munakata and Shiro.

[POSITION, OBJECTIVES]

The green King who leads the Green Clan, "Jungle".

He is the administrator of the SNS site “Jungle”, which is widespread in the general public, and has registered ordinary people as members of the clan. Those who have signed up for "Jungle" have been given temporary intellects via the PDA, and they are acting as game pieces throughout the mission.

He promotes the Dresden Slate liberation plan to "give strength and freedom to all mankind". The strongest "King" Kokujoji, the sword was released by Daikaku's death, and his activities became large-scale and swift.

[PERSONALITY, CONDUCT]

He believes that all humans must "buy their ambitions at their own risk".

He is good at manipulating people as he wishes, but is the result of observation and experimentation, and his understanding of feelings is poor. Also, there is no desire to rule, and every human who moves like a piece is also a player, and he believes that it is good for them to scratch or betray with their respective ambitions and beliefs.

When there are conflicting interests between individuals, he says, "You can make a decision in the game.". The game is sometimes murder without rules, but the damage associated with the weak does not come to mind. There is a mysterious view of weak meat and strong food as the "basic rule of the world".

An unbalanced spirit with a childish part and a part of a genius that instantly plans and executes a detailed plan.

At the age of ten, he was involved in the Kagutsu incident and his heart was pierced by debris and he died. Immediately after waking up as the "Green King", he changed his "death" to "live" with the power of the "King" and lived. Based on the experience of the Kagutsu incident, he has the doubt that in the world only the "King" has power, and he thinks that all human beings should have power to resist their destiny and open the future.

[FATE, ENDING]

K big boss. Assuming Shiro's (Adolf K. Weismann) "wrong dream", goes forward with the Slate's liberation plan in an attempt to realize "everyone's happiness" by "giving power and freedom to all".

Fighting against Shiro, Munakata, Anna, and others who oppose that idea, once the Slate was released and a world was created where all humans have power, he was defeated in the final battle and the Slate was destroyed, then "death" caught him. He lost the power to change to "live" and died.

[ABILITIES, TACTICS]

He can wield his own power anywhere through the network (it can be said that he has a sanctuary in the form of a tree or neural network).

Specifically, information acquisition, awakening / strengthening of clan member's ability, direct attack via internet equipment (lightning), etc.

Since the body with mortal wounds is maintained with a different ability, it is not possible to use 100% of the ability normally. Therefore, it is based on clandestine activities and does not reveal its whereabouts. However, when it comes to direct combat, he is extremely powerful, using his abilities with the momentum of abandonment.

[POWER]

A + (Major in the "King" class, but the battle time is limited.)

[LIKES]

Liberty. Human.

[DISLIKE]

Slavery.

[HOBBIES]

Human observation.

While he is incapacitated in captive clothing and in a wheelchair underground and cannot move freely, he recognizes that his only freedom is to "see" everything and people through the networks and Kotosaka.

[FASHION]

He basically wears straitjacket. The support garment has a special specification that suppresses powers. As a result, the ever-expanding sanctuary is limited to the body.

[BODY]

The left chest was pierced in the Kagutsu incident, and there was a hole where the heart should be. In the hole, the power of the "Green King" modification is contained, and the power is used to save the body.

The color of the blood is bad, probably because the lost organs are supplemented with a different capacity, but from the body of a 10-year-old boy who died once, it has become an adult male body.

[INTELLIGENCE]

It is very high, but it is also unbalanced due to some childish parts.

[BELIEFS]

An extreme liberal who pursues "freedom for all" to the fullest. Some kind of anarchist.

He believes that the situation in which some people control the power of the Slate is an unfair game. All human beings have power, and each dream is purely of the world in which they survive.

[RELATIONSHIPS]

[EARLY YEARS]

Born to strange robot-like parents, he grew up a strange child, but his parents loved him and he had some friends. All of them and his heart were lost due to the Kagutsu incident.

[TIMELINE]

· 1988, Hisui Nagare was born.

· 1999, July, the Kagutsu Incident, was mortally wounded and awakened as a "Green King".

· 2004, Nagare challenges Kokujoji and loses.

· 2012, he Interferes with the "Colorless King" and be part of the cause of the Gakuenjima incident.

· 2013, October, he plans the first attack on the Mihashira Tower. Withdrawing hands when Anna Kushina awakens, but after shedding information from Mihashira Tower, “Jungle” activities will expand.

· 2013, December, Second attack on the Mihashira Tower (decisive Christmas battle).

· 2014, January, Liberation of the Dresden Slate. After defeating the three Silver, Red, and Blue clans that have been attacked, the player is killed.

[ATTITUDE AND THOUGHTS TOWARDS OTHERS]

[TERMS OF THE ADDRESS FOR HIMSELF]

The first person is "Ore".

The second person is "Anata", "-kun".

Polite language as a habit. It is a habit to express yourself and express your feelings in the form of "word + desu", "Affirmative" or "Negative".

[TOWARDS IWAFUNE TENKEI]

He calls him "Iwa-san".

Since they have been together since he was 10 years old when he lost all power in the Kagutsu incident and gained the power of a "king", there was a relationship as father and son, where it was natural to be there.

He acknowledges that the underlying idea is different from his, but absolutely trusts as his ally. There is no consciousness of "being used" or "using".

[TOWARDS MISHAKUJI YUKARI]

He calls him "Yukari".

Count on him as a useful member of the clan.

During the mission, Yukari willingly accepts Nagare's "request".

While they are a "King" and "Follower", they are also equal alliances.

Yukaki, a powerful free man, does not fundamentally need Nagare's presence, but follows him with some kind of interest and selects a master-slave relationship.

[TOWARDS GOJOU SUKUNA]

He calls him "Sukuna".

The same relationship as the bad guys. A friend who really plays the same game and has the same dream.

He sympathized with Sukuna, who tried to escape from the parental-ruled environment and fought to live by his own power, and defied reckless battle.

Of course, there is a big difference in power and a difference in rank, but it doesn't matter much to both of them, and right now it's a relationship between “Rey” and “Otomi”, but when the Dresden Slate is released, will be a really equal friend.

[TOWARDS KOTOSAKA]

He calls him "Kotosaka".

The first member of the clan and his first friend after he became "King".

He is an "eye" that shows the world to the disabled.

[TOWARDS ISANA YASHIRO]

He calls him by his full name, or "Anata".

A pioneer in Slate research, he remembers respect for Adolf K. Weissmann, who once dreamed of the Slate, and is proud of himself as the successor to that dream.

He was frustrated that he abandoned his dream and became a hermit in heaven, but he was anxious for him, his eldest dream, to come down to the same horizon again.

He wanted to join Shiro and walk together, but when Shiro refuses, he doesn't care so much and he tries to enjoy the conflict with Shiro as a game.

[TOWARDS NEKO]

He calls her "Miyabi Ameno" and "Kimi".

She is a victim of the same Kagutsu incident, and believes that she is a "partner" who has survived after gaining powers.

He remembers the sympathy of living freely with his own power.

[TOWARDS REISI MUNAKATA]

He calls him "Munakata".

A person who has the opposite thought of him. They do not adjust to each other physiologically.

There is a section that treats Munakata, who was the new "King" at the time of the Gakuenjima incident, as a "novice" and is less respectful than other "Kings"

#k #k project #hisui nagare #profile hisui nagare #k fan clan

[kettlequills]

Please tell me about your Laat I am dying to know more about her (and also her relationship with Miraak, it feels I know no other fdb/ldb shippers)

Hi! Thank you for your interest in Laataazin! They appear in some of my fics with Miraak, if you're curious (this one is First Dragonborn Laataazin/Last Dragonborn Miraak, this one is soulmate!AU, this one is Sahrotaar-centric), remember to check the warnings. Here's their OC profile, but here's some more because I can never resist rambling about my OCs! TW for some discussion of Laat's depressed ass.

Laataazin is polyamorous, agender, and uses any pronouns! (I have a playlist for Laat, full of sad bops). In the Good Ending canon (lol, so not my fic waking dreams: master of fate) Laat is married to Moira the hagraven (theme song for their relationship) and rescues Miraak for complicated personal reasons they're largely unaware of.

Their relationship with Moira is more of a comet-type situation, where Laat will visit Moira for several weeks in between gaps of a few months to a year or so. They have a casual relationship style, but nonetheless care very deeply and strongly about one another, and it is through their relationship with Moira that Laat actually learns some skills of self-care and finds motivation to, well. Continue with life after Alduin dies. In fact, after Laat kills Alduin, they fall into such a period of intense mourning and depressive grief that Moira comes to live with them at Heljarchen Hall. Moira, for that reason, is immensely glad when Miraak's cultists come to start bothering Laat and tales of a captive Dragonborn rouse their interest.

Fun fact, they also learn the woodworking skills to build their own home by fixing up Witchmist Grove for Moira!

In the Good Ending, they later end up in a relationship with Miraak largely because, well, he's there and very, very annoying whilst he recovers from his wounds, and they need some way of processing their mutually complicated feelings about both being Dragonborn and their political differences. Miraak tends to a submissive (often service) dynamic with Laataazin, in a way that encourages them to stick around more often. They do actually become quite close and spend most of their time together, which is rare for Laat, but Miraak is a much clingier partner in most ways than Moira.

Laat doesn't really have many close friends, but tends to hang out mainly with sad, lonely old people. Their type is apparently exclusively amoral mages that deal in dark magics. They don't use horses and run everywhere instead, they're Skyrim's version of a terrifying cryptid, and the only sellsword they ever hired was Teldryn, and it wasn't for company in battle. They didn't get involved in the Civil War, believing their power would tip the balance too completely. They use warhammers when they're fighting seriously.

They think they are responsible for everything wrong with the world. Laat receives incredible power as Dragonborn and immediately thinks its their responsibility to save everything. They want so badly to burn themselves out, to stop existing for themselves, that they grab onto this concept of purpose and use it to stab themselves as a method of punishing themselves in their grief and remorse for the people they've hurt, even if they thought it was in pursuit of destiny. They want so badly to have a cause to sacrifice themselves for, because, inherently, they don't have a support network, they feel alone, and they are afraid of ever changing that and the growing they'd need to do as a result. Laat is resistant to change instead of pursuing it, and chooses instead to unleash their dissatisfaction with everything in their life, their all-consuming grief and misery about their life and their loneliness, on the world around them rather than reflect upon their feelings and who they are. They're always finding a new cause to occupy themselves, to take them out of their brain - to act, for a brief time, in synchronicity with others. This is, largely, what drives them to do Skyrim's many fetch-quests lol.

But Laat is too fearful - is too angry - to trust anyone, is too self-absorbed, and, disassociated from other people and empathy and human connection that they can't let go of their own grief about their suffering, their own fear of failure and their own fury that this isolation has happened. They want to care so badly that they dedicate their lives to it, but ultimately, deep down, Laat is just too tired and bleeding from their own wounds to truly put the work in to connect. If their body let them feel one thing they would be overcome, and because they can't muster that feeling how they think they ought to experience it, they feel worse, and run faster instead of slowing down and letting themselves rest. Laat's responsibility to the world is a story they tell themselves to justify how they treat themselves, and their choice to ignore the responsibility they have to treat themselves with the kindness and dignity and compassion they insist for everyone else, and the space to grow.

This is, of course, something they must face and overcome within the larger arc of their character, as there is nothing fundamentally insurmountably different about them. Moira ends up helping with this, and so does Miraak (not that he means to) by being a person to whom Laat can simultaneously relate to (in the sense of both being Dragonborn and struggling to relate to the world around him, or being outside of society in Moira's case) and is utterly alien (in the sense that he routinely disregards others and comes from a culture for which Laat has no frame of reference beyond ruins, or is a hagraven), and who is strong enough to challenge their concept of being too powerful to interact closely with others for extended durations without hurting them, and, in Miraak's case, both persistent and needful enough to encourage them to realise the second part of the lesson they started learning with Moira. Not only can they have nice things and relationships with others, they're also allowed to have them all the time lol.

Also fun fact, Laat is tiny, and could punch through a wall.

#laataazin #depression #congratulations if you got all the way to the end #miraak #moira #inkthinks

[ga-yuu]

~Kurama~Main Story Chapter 5~Part 2

Part 1

*

*

*

------Part 4-----

Shigehira: "Yoshino-san!"

Pulling up the fabric of the tent, Shigehira-kun jumped inside with great energy.

Yoshino: "Shigehira-kun! ....Are you injured?"

Shigehira: "No."

The sight of the blood-stained figure was a bit of a shock, but it turned out to be someone else's blood.

Shigehira: "I'm here to inform you. Listen. A party of the enemy has set its course here. Take the wounded and move with the others."

(The enemy!?)

Yoshino: "Oh, okay, I'll get ready."

Shigehira: "I'll help you. I've already given instructions to my men."

I quickly put together my tools and left the tent with Shigehira-kun.

.............

Those who are lightly wounded are mounted, while those who cannot ride on their own are assisted by other soldiers.

They are placed in the middle of the squadron to avoid delays.

Yoshino: "Will you and your men join us? And what about Morinaga-san...."

Shigehira: "Morinaga-san cannot leave the front yet. For now, the Shogunate has the upper hand... I'll return to my post after I've escorted you."

Yoshino: "...Oh, okay. Take care of yourself."

(I'm worried, but I'll pray for your safety...)

Shigehira: "Same to you."

Shigehira-kun muttered seriously as he rode alongside me, his horse flying.

Shigehira: "Neither I nor Morinaga-san thought the war would get this bad. This battle is...."

..................

Kagetoki: "This war is clearly an aberration."

Yoritomo: ".................."

At the same time, in Kamakura, Yoritomo, who had received a report on the battle from Kagetoki, moved his eyebrows slightly.

Yoritomo: “You said that the information about the Shogunate and the rebels was leaked and mixed up at the same time.

Kagetoki: “Yes. It’s becoming a war of attrition, with both sides making a series of surprise attacks. Although the Shogunate had the advantage in numbers...We don’t like the fact that the damage has exceeded what we had envisaged as an outpost.”

Yoritomo: “Has there been an investigation into who is pulling the strings?”

Kagetoki: “I’ve got some nasty information about it.”

A glance alone signals ‘Go on’, and Kagetoki reels.

Kagetoki: “Private armies, secretly recruited by some noble families, are infiltrating the battlefield.”

Yoritomo: “Nobles?”

Kagetoki: “Yes. At least ostensibly, the families have no connection. It took a long time to get caught up in the network because they were hired separately in small numbers.”

Yoritomo looked over the report quickly, and his gaze sharpened.

Yoritomo: “I see. Even though it’s just a bunch of mooks, there’s still a good number of all together.”

Kagetoki: “It doesn’t look like an opponent who can use sophisticated tactics to manipulate the information of two armies to reduce each other’s strength... When you've assembled on a battlefield, you can’t be irrelevant.”

Yoritomo: “There is something fundamentally puzzling about the complicity of the nobles.”

Kagetoki: “Yes. The noble families mentioned in the report were probably just a bunch of birds clinging to a vanishing power. All I can see is that they are suddenly united. It feels contrived.”

Yoritomo: “If the rebels are on the back foot, there’s no way they’re working with the nobility.”

After a brief pause for thought, Yoritomo locked eyes with Kagetoki.

Yoritomo: “Find out if anyone high up in the court is involved. I will send word to Morinaga and Shigehira on the battlefield as soon as possible.”

Kagetoki: “Yes.”

................

(I’ve managed to resume treatment, but I’m not sure I’d feel comfortable with the idea of another surprise attack here.)

And yet, as I dealt with one wounded man after another, time goes by in a blink of an eye.

Injured soldier: “Did you get the latest news, Yoshino-san? It seems that the war will end soon.”

Yoshino: “Is that true!?”

A wounded soldier who was lying on the floor spoke happily and his voice became more lively.

Injured soldier: “The guy who just brought in the wounded said that the rebels are going to withdraw at last.”

(Thank god.....!)

Yoshino: “I hope as many soldiers as possible are safe....”

Injured soldier: “There are a number of soldiers who have been saved thanks to you, Yoshino-san. Like me.”

Yoshino: “Hehe, I’m honored.”

The faces of the other soldiers in the tent were brighter because they had seen a glimmer of hope.

When I sighed relief-----

???: “Excuse me.”

Yoshino: “.....? Yes.”

I heard someone calling from outside my tent and I went to look out, only to be greeted by----

Boy: “Hello, Yoshino.”

--------Part 5------

Boy: “Hello, Yoshino.”

Yoshino: “A kid?”

He greeted me in a rather mature voice and bowed gracefully.

(Why is a KID in such a place?)

(Maybe from the nearby town? But....)

But his high-quality clothes and beautiful face tell me a different story.

Yoshino: “Where are you from? and also how do you know my name?”

Boy: “I came from there.”

With a strangely calm smile, the boy points to the west.

Boy: “A very beautiful man told me your name too.”

I was a bit suspicious by his somewhat impersonal, age-inappropriate manner.

(But I can’t leave him alone like this.)

Yoshino: “Okay, this is a dangerous place, so stay close to my side. I’ll take you home later.”

(I have to tell everyone about this. I wonder where the guards have gone...)

Boy: “That’s very kind of you. I’ll be happy to stay with you. But sorry,....you’re coming with me.”

Yoshino: “Eh?”

----At that moment, I noticed a bracelet falling off from the little boy’s wrists.

And the next moment----

Man: “My name is Ibuki. Nice to meet you again, fox princess.”

(This person...)

His wavy golden hair and blue eyes showed that he was the same person as the child from earlier.

But more than that, I gasped at the two horns on his head.

Yoshino: “Oni....?”

Ibuki: “Correct.”

(Demon! What’s more, from what you just said you’re an enemy, aren’t you?)

As I stepped back, my thoughts wander.

(I can’t call for help from inside the tent. It would involve everyone.)

Yoshino: “What did you do to the guards?’

Ibuki: “It would be negligent of the watchman to let him fall after a little play.”

(I don’t know...how strong this demon, this Ibuki is.)

(Also he addressed me as fox princess, so he does know about my powers.)

Ibuki: “Now now, don’t think too much.”

(Ah)

He easily closes the distance between us by pulling me by the wrists.

Ibuki lightly supports my body, when I was about to fall out of balance.

Yoshino: “Let go! What’s your intention?”

Ibuki: “It’s a common story in folklore that a demon kidnaps a princess. I’d take you if I could, but I’m not really into that. So here’s the deal, if you resist, I will kill you and everyone else inside the tent.”

(........)

Ibuki: “What do you want? Decide for yourself.”

(You!)

Yoshino: “What’s your purpose....?”

Ibuki: “You’ll know it on the way. Now come. If someone gets suspicious that you’re not coming back and leaves the tent, then you’re out of options.”

(.....Looks like I’ve no other choice.)

Yoshino: “Fine. I’ll come with you.”

I killed my trembling voice as much as I could and stared at Ibuki.

Ibuki: “I like clever women. How about we flirt for a while...? But first, let’s get out of this bloody place.”

...........

Riding the horse that was tied to me, Ibuki carried me in front of him through the mountains of the battlefield.

Ibuki: “The Shogunate must be in full retreat by now, as the rebel army retreats. Are feeling lonely, fox princess, now that you’re left behind?”

Yoshino: “Nn....I’ll never tell you. Will you tell me where are we going?”

Ibuki: “You’ll know soon----Oh, look there he is.”

(Eh?)

Ibuki dismounted me and pointed to the full moon in the night sky.

No way----the next moment, something dark covers the moon.

(That’s!)

When I realized what was that dark thing was, I saw huge jet-black wings covering my vision.

Then something came down at a tremendous speed.

Kurama: “Why are you here? ---Shuten Doji, Ibuki.”

~~~~~~’I won’t call your name’ (Normal Story)~~~~~

Ibuki: “You’ll know soo----Oh, look there he is.”

(Eh?)

Ibuki dismounted me and pointed to the full moon in the night sky.

No way----the next moment, something dark covers the moon.

(That’s!)

When I realized what was that darkness, I saw huge jet-black wings covering my vision.

Then something came down at a tremendous speed.

Kurama: “Why are you here? ---Shuten Doji, Ibuki.”

(Kurama!?)

Ibuki: “What a coincidence, huh? Kurama.”

Kurama: “You’re the one who deliberately came close to me, releasing your spell so that I’d notice you.”

(They both know each other?....But...)

Ibuki: “Don’t be so angry. I’ve gone out my way to bring you a gift to mark our reunion.”

Kurama: “Gift?”

Ibuki holds me by the shoulders as if to show me. Then Kurama’s eyes turned to look at me.

Kurama: “For what reason do you have that little puss?”

Ibuki: “I seduced her politely and snatched her.”

(Even if he says this, Ibuki must have a reason to kidnap me.)

Kurama: “I have heard rumors that you have been in hiding for a long time....Why have you come to me now?”

Ibuki: “Because I want to play with you like I used to, of course. Have you forgotten how well I looked after you?”

Kurama: “.....I forgot.”

Kurama replies with a pause and clicks his tongue.

Ibuki: “Why are you so cold to me, Kurama? You were so much cuter when you were a kid. Do you remember that one time, when you lost to me in a match, I had you call me ‘Ibuki oni-sama’ all day?”

Kurama(menacing glare): “Die.”

Ibuki: “Whoa, rebellious, I see. It makes me smile and cry to see you pouting and clamoring.”

(Who the hell is Ibuki to treat that Kurama like a kid?)

Kurama: “I’m beginning to remember. It’s no use talking to you.”

(......!)

At the same time as Kurama’s voice crawls across the ground, a cloud of dust is instantly raised from the ground.

Ibuki: “Hahaha...”

(Ah)

There was an amused chuckle, and then a thump on my back.

Kurama: “..........!”

As I slumped to my knees on the ground, Kurama’s eye met mine.

Ibuki waved his hand to take advantage of this.

From somewhere a dense fog rolled in, obscuring his appearance.

Ibuki: “See you again, Kurama.”

Kurama: “Wait.”

(Nn....)

I can feel the sound of the tornado as it snatched me right in the face. My hair is curling up and I can’t keep my eyes open very well.

Kurama: “.........”

The noise and the wind stopped and I opened my eyes to find that the fog had lifted without a trace.

(Ibuki...disappeared.)

Yoshino: “......Kurama.”

Kurama, who stood silently in front of me, looked at me. 

The stinging air was the same as before, and my instincts told me that the slightest movement would kill me.

Kurama: “Where did you meet Ibuki?”

Yoshino: “....just a while ago. And he kidnapped without any reason. But who is he? And how is he related to you...?”

Kurama: “Our relation, huh?”

(Ah.)

In an instant, the hilt of the sword touched my shoulder, and I was pushed backward.

When I looked up stunned, I saw an unusual rage simmering in the depths of his cold eyes.

Kurama: “Don’t ask me whatever you want.”

Yoshino: “Don’t treat me like that.”

I endured my fear and returned the words.

Kurama: “You let that guy kidnap you easily and now you got thrown away like a bone to a dog......How do you call that? In fact, Ibuki had been  talking nonsense about you being a gift.”

(That’s...)

Kurama: “Well, since you failed to knock it back, I suppose it makes sense to break it.  The ‘gifts’ he always gives me make me sick.”

Yoshino: “What are you going to do....?”

Kurama: “I couldn’t do it last time. Now that you’re on the battlefield, you should be ready to die. Or else----”

There was a gurgling sound and an unnatural gust of wind emerged.

Kurama: “Will you try taking me down? Little puss.”

(.....! He’s coming after me!)

Kurama raises one hand, unconcerned about his black hair being disturbed by the wind.

A number of transparent whirlpools were created and poured down from above the head.

Yoshino: “Ngh.”

(----I can fight! Lend me the power of the nine-tail fox!)

I opened my eyes and raised the palm of one hand boldly.

At the same time, with my other hand, I grabbed the hilt of the sword that was on my shoulder and jumped up while bouncing off.

Kurama(surprised): “......”

(.....I’m strong now. I can cancel his mystical powers.)

The wind is losing its momentum around the outstretched palm.

Feeling this, I carefully distance myself from Kurama.

Kurama: “Ohh. Did you manage to use your powers from that distance without shying away?”

Yoshino:” I did say I’ll get stronger, didn’t I?”

The memory of the last time we parted lights up in my heat like a beacon.

------FLASHBACK-----

Yoshino: "No, I mean.....the next time I meet Kurama on the battlefield, I will be stronger than I am now."

Kurama: "What?"

Yoshino: "I felt bad about what Kurama said about me. But I also thought he was right. Thank you for making me aware that I am weak."

Kurama(surprised): "...................."

------FLASHBACK ENDS------

Kurama: “Do you think we’re in the same league after you ran around Kamakura killing the petty little demons?”

Yoshino: “At least, I made an effort.” (This is the reason! This is why I love her. Even if it's not that great, she at least proved herself that she’s not entirely useless, unlike some other MCs who want the male leads to save them. I’m proud of you, Yoshino.)

(.....It was never the end of the crisis.)

Kurama could easily take my life without using his other powers.

(But still, as long as I have a life, I’ll continue to resist until the end!)

Kurama: “Don’t be so tough, your legs are shaking.”

Yoshino: “....Really? Might be from excitement.”

Kurama: “......Heh.”

(Eh?)

A faint laugh, leaks from his thin lips.

The heavy tension in the air suddenly relaxed.

Yoshino: “Kurama....?”

Kurama: “So the chicken has finally come out of its egg. Very well. I’ll see you as a living thing. Breathe freely in my presence, speak the same language, and I’ll also allow you to move as long as you live.”

(That’s.....)

Yoshino: “You won’t kill me anymore...?”

Kurama: “Not for now. Rejoice, Yoshino. You’ve made my day.”

(Ah....my name.)

I was struck by surprise before relief when he declared that he would not kill me immediately.

Kurama: “Hey, why are you not answering?”

Kurama, who has carelessly closed the distance between us, lightly touches my cheek.

Yoshino: “I was just surprised. That was the first time, you called me by my name.”

(Also I’ve never seen him laugh so softly like that.)

Kurama: “A name is just a symbol. Whatever you call it, it means nothing.”

Yoshino: “.....You’re right.”

(That’s how Kurama thinks.)

Kurama: “But I don’t call the names of things that don’t deserve to live.”

(.....!)

Yoshino: “Does that mean...you acknowledge me now?”

Kurama(glares cutely): “Don’t get too carried away.”

Yoshino: “Sorry.”

I reflexively shrug my shoulders when I’m told off....

Kurama: “....What are you smirking about?”

Yoshino: “Eh?”

(Oh no, maybe my cheeks were unconsciously loose.)

(But why?)

I was surprisingly happy to be recognized by the enemy Kurama.

Kurama: “You don’t seem to be taking me seriously, despite me telling you not to get carried away.”

Yoshino: “No, it’s nothing like that.”

Kurama: “So, what are you going to do now?”

His red ferocious eyes approached me but I unintentionally looked away.

But then he holds my cheeks and forced me to look at him, leaving me no chance to escape.

Kurama: “You’re not quite what I expected. Tell me what you want. Maybe you’ll miraculously succeed in filling my boredom again.”

(I don’t have the confidence to respond to such an unreasonable request!)

When I was wondering what to ask, I sighed a little.

Yoshino: “....I was happy when you called me by my name.”

Kurama: “...........Is that what you want?”

Yoshino: “Mm.”

Kurama: “......I don’t why you liked it, but let’s try.”

(What..?)

His neat face approached...and his lips were brought near my ears.

Kurama: “Yoshino.”

My cheeks get hotter as I listen to his honey-like voice slowly pouring into my ears.

Kurama: “Answer me. Why do you like to be called by your name?”

Yoshino(blushing): “I don’t know...

Kurama: “Are you kidding me?”

Yoshino(blushing): “Ah.”

I let out a small moan, as he kissed my ear. The impact led to heat spreading all over my body.

Yoshino(blushing): “No....wait....Mm...”

In a hurry, I pushed Kurama’s chest back.

Yoshino(blushing): “I don’t think that’s the right thing to do!”

Kurama: “Why?”

Yoshino(blushing): “What do you mean ‘why’? You should be doing these sort of things only with the person you love.”

Kurama: “Unfortunately, I have no connection with the vulgar feelings of love and affection.”

Yoshino(blushing): “But I do.”

Kurama: “I don’t know about you, but know one thing.”

He forcibly draws my waist and my heart races as it sensed a bad premonition.

Kurama: “Yoshino, from this day on, you are my prisoner. So what’s wrong in treating you however I like?”

(I should be annoyed at his arrogant attitude.)

But looking at the happy Kurama like this, for some reason I can’t fight back.

Chapter 6

#ikemen series #ikemen genjiden #ikemen genjiden kurama #ikemen mc #otome #cybird #cybird otome #cybird ikemen #main story translations

[magicalforcesau]

Dancing With Ghosts in Your Garden~ Chapter 16 - Year 2: December

(ao3 links)

Sidious always enjoyed maintaining collections.

He always considered himself a keen eye for artwork- taking special care to decorate and surround his space with intricate and often overlooked pieces that a meager outsider would deem worthless. As usual, their ignorance served to his benefit, allowing him to broaden a priceless treasure trove just beneath their noses. In a sense, it was most enjoyable that way- to accrue artwork and artifacts fundamental to preserving and cultivating the future of the Sith and for them to be none the wiser.

Little did they understand that the best costumes were woven with truth.

So, they could have their foolish little jokes about the junk he chose to decorate his environment with. They would not be laughing so merrily when the abstract paintings of enemy bloodshed cease to be so foreign to them. The carefully hidden devices that could provide centuries of torment would be useful one day.

As well as contingency plans that they might never know, because Sidious was nothing if not pragmatic.

He ran a long finger along a small wooden prism that sat upon his mantle, lips twitching upwards when it glowed red at his touch. He rolled it around his hand, practically shaking at the pure heat that emanated through him. Like Sidious, its walls remained intact and its passion while brimming at the surface, secured by purpose.

He took a deep breath and returned it to its place beside a cube that he didn’t need to touch to know it would not respond to him with such fervor, let alone at all. To him alone, it had no meaning.

But he would not be alone forever and he never did anything without meaning.

Sidious walked to his desk, taking a seat behind it as he took in his collection of pictures, each from a different era with different allies. Tyranus, of course, stood beside him in one of them, though surrounded by other faculty to maintain plausible deniability. Still, he couldn’t help but grimace at his supposed partner. It was no secret to him that Tyranus was taking his own measures. He would be dealt with should his insolence become too much of a problem for Sidious.

His yellow eyes drifted yet again to a picture only he knew to be cropped, one where there was once a Dathmorian smiling ferociously. He had half a mind to return it to its natural form, but as it were, there was no room on his desk for failure.

Besides, as he pulled out a fresh frame, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of giddiness overtake him.

He would need the space for the newest piece of his collection.

***

“I was under the impression that we were forbidding any holiday soirees this year.” Qui-Gon frowned and looked to his fellow Head of Houses for support, knowing he would find no such assistance from Palpatine in this particular situation.

“It’s hardly even that.” Palpatine said kindly, “It’s an academic dinner! And a necessary one, if I must say so myself.”

“And I have a feeling you will.” Qui-Gon muttered, earning him a warning look from Yoda, who always tried to remain neutral on such matters. “Regardless of intent, do you not see the hypocrisy of staging any sort of gathered event on school grounds when everything else has been banned?”

Including Qui-Gon’s own party, which this was only partially about.

“I’d say there’s a stark difference between a quiet dinner for 12-14 people and what has essentially become a rave over the years.” Palpatine countered with the barest traces of a smile, “And no offense to your own event, Professor Jinn, but do you not recall what happened last year at your party?”

Qui-Gon gritted his teeth, but held his tongue as the other professors eyed him carefully. He didn’t need to garner a reputation for throwing a tantrum every time something didn’t go his way, especially when it was being framed that he merely wanted to have his own holiday party.

“I am not saying mine or any other such parties should occur this year on property,” He said, “But if we are battening down the hatches, I don’t see why your academic dinner is exempt from the rules.”

“It’s essentially a networking event, Professor Jinn,” Palpatine twiddled his long fingers, “It would seem incredibly unfair to deprive Hogwarts’ best from learning how to navigate their futures.”

“Not a single person in this room received any such favoritism and I would say we turned out just fine,” Qui-Gon said, because really, at the core this was what it was all about. Every year, Palpatine hosted a private dinner for who he felt were the most prestigious and skilled witches and wizards of their year. This did not necessarily mean their grades or academic place guaranteed them a spot. It all depended on who Palpatine saw potential in.

“If I could possibly invite the whole student body, you know that I would.” The older man said with sympathetic gray eyes.

“Understand, I do.” Yoda nodded sagely, “Danger or not, continue school must, but safety precautions, there must be.”

“We’ll ensure it’s monitored.” Windu said with a curt nod, but whether it was meant for Qui-Gon or Palpatine was up for debate, “10 people tops, that includes plus one’s, and it will need to be over by curfew.”

“Ah yes, because Maul won’t show up until 10 pm.” Qui-Gon snorted, which earned him a glare from Windu this time. Shaak Ti, to her credit, seemed to be withholding a quiet laugh of her own.

“And all of us will monitor the dinner.” She said calmly, “We can’t take any chances by leaving students vulnerable.”

Qui-Gon eased a bit at that, though he still bristled at the way Palpatine’s smile took full form and then shrugged at him as though he were helpless to the decision. He’d never had any contempt for the older man, but he never appreciated smugness in any form.

“I’ll have to shorten my list a tad, but that can be done.” He nodded slowly.

As they were dismissed, Qui-Gon wasn’t surprised when Yoda asked him to stay back. After the door shut behind Palpatine and he was left alone with the little green Headmaster, he couldn’t help but feel like a student ready to receive detention.

“Feel your frustration, I do.” He said, “Find anything, have you?”

“No necklace.” Qui-Gon only stuttered a little bit, surprised that he wasn’t being chastised, “Though it no doubt came from Dooku’s office. And I’d know it if I saw it.”

“Scoured over everything in there, the aurors have.” Yoda said grimly, “Missing, a necklace was.”

“That’s what Anakin said too.” Qui-Gon revealed and off the curious look Yoda was giving him, he sighed, “I promised him immunity from punishment should he be honest about anything he knew.”

“Hm,” Yoda tapped his fingers on his desk, “Blame him for curiosity, I do not. Many close calls last year, he had.”

“That seems to be a bit of an understatement, Headmaster.” Qui-Gon said and stroked his beard.

“Twice as vulnerable, the boy is.” Yoda said, “After him, Maul is.”

He did know this. The entire school did after the display Maul’s “delivery” made. Aurors through the Ministry were able to detect that not only did the blade belong to Maul, but that the markings on the dagger were strangely reminiscent of an ancient diatribe. Qui-Gon knew they were dancing around calling it like it was: a Sith artifact.

“For what reason?” Qui-Gon scowled, “Maul cares not for prophecy or rules. Anakin is a twelve year old boy and hardly a challenge for him.”

“Tasked with finding that out, I am leaving you.” Yoda pushed his chair out from beneath his desk and stood. When he did, only the very top of his head was visible from where Qui-Gon stood. Using his cane, he hobbled around to stand in front of Qui-Gon.

Qui-Gon raised his eyebrows, “And why not Windu?”

He didn’t mean to sound like he didn’t accept the task. Quite the opposite, of course. He would have likely found himself involved anyway as it was in his nature. That being said, he certainly didn’t have the professional investigative experience that Mace had.

“Trust you, the boy does.” Yoda said matter-of-factly, “Because Shmi trusted you, the reason he goes here is.”

Qui-Gon was sure that was meant to be empowering motivation, but instead, his mind was taken back to the dark dreams Shmi told him of last winter holiday and how scarily they matched the ones Anakin had mentioned, not to mention the recurrence of snakes. He thought about how desperately Shmi did not want her son to be involved with the wizarding world and why now that seemed to not be so ridiculous on paper.

Still, he knew Anakin’s and the rest of the community’s best hope was to continue his training.

“That is true,” Qui-Gon said with a heavy sigh, “But Headmaster, we need to be able to ensure the boy’s safety for that trust to persist.”

“Agree, I do.” Yoda said, “Maul cannot get in, as long as here, I am.”

It was true. While small in stature and old in age, Headmaster Yoda was the most formidable foe to a loose cannon like Maul, who surely did not have enough hubris to believe he would be capable of taking down the ancient Headmaster. He was once a student at Hogwarts, after all, and had to know of the Headmaster’s abilities.

However, there was a far off look in Yoda’s eyes that did not bestow much confidence in Qui-Gon. There was something he wasn’t saying. Or perhaps, it was meant to be assumed.

“And you’re not going anywhere, are you?” He asked slowly.

His long ears tilted downwards and he sighed heavily, “On my own accord, I will not.”

Then, it dawned on Qui-Gon, “The Ministry?”

“A strong case of my failures, many lawyers are making.” He said, “Feel that prepared, I am not, to defend the school.”

“That’s preposterous, Headmaster!” Qui-Gon growled, “If anything, we’re sitting ducks without you!”

Yoda’s disposition steeled, “No! Strength, there are in numbers. Make this school, I do not. Protect it, you and the others will if you must.”

While there was nothing presently happening and no final words were said, Qui-Gon felt like his heart was racing beneath his chest. Did no one see what was transpiring all around them?

“There must be one of Dooku’s plants in the Ministry.” He said, “The Sith are rising and gathering numbers to try and weaken us.”

Yoda fiddled with the hilt of the sword that always stuck out of the large vase near his desk, twiddling it between his little fingers. It was designed as though meant to be wielded by Yoda, himself, though Qui-Gon never really came to such a realization until now.

“Many forms, evil takes,” He confirmed, “Are Sith, not all of them are. In the deliberately blind, bigoted, and silent, it lies. Fester, it will. Be vigilant, we must.”

***

“And remember class, your project on the fundamental purposes of gillyweed is due next Monday.” Palpatine smiled at the class, “I look forward to seeing what sort of creative functionalities you all come up with.”

Anakin hadn’t noticed that class dismissed and it seemed Rex wasn’t bothered much to let him know, leaving him staring into empty space as students filtered out of the room. He only blinked back into reality when his professor walked up and gently knocked on the desk in front of him, as though it were a door he was requesting admission through.

He flicked his head up, mind scrambling for an excuse to land on for being so lost in space, but found he had trouble lying to the older man.

“Oh, sorry, Professor!” He slid from his chair and stood up, “I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.”

“How are you doing, Anakin?” Palpatine placed a hand on his shoulder and appeared to be studying him. “Really doing; not just what you might tell your other professors.”

“Well, I’m sure you heard of the little note Maul sent me.” He said with a shrug, “They confirmed that the blood on it was that Adi Gallia that he murdered at the prison.”

It was impressive that he’d managed to say that without gagging as he had the many times his thoughts reverted back to the moment. He had to blink a few times to shake away the images his brain had conjured up in his sleep. He’d heard the reports on how Maul picked off each of the guards on duty that night and it hadn’t been pleasant.

“He’s a sick individual, Anakin. And it’s just awful how he treated those poor guards.” Palpatine said, “But rest assured, no harm can befall you so long as Headmaster Yoda is on the premises.”

Anakin perked up, “Really?”

“But of course!” He said and twisted his own lips into a smile, “I’m not sure where this school would be without him, but I can assure you, he is a force that Maul would not dare to cross.”

Anakin relaxed at that, “I suppose I should be learning from him then. You know, if I’m to be a hero one day.”

“In my opinion, Anakin,” Palpatine poked his chest, “You are already a hero. And it is for that reason amongst countless others that I am formally inviting you to my annual academic banquet.”

“That’s awesome!” Anakin scratched the back of his neck, “Only, uh… What is it?”

He chuckled, “Only an exclusive dinner party hosted by yours truly. It’s reserved for only the witches and wizards, usually older, that I deem exemplary amongst their peers. It’s a way to recognize their hard work.”

“And you think I’m worthy of that?” Anakin asked.

Palpatine chuckled, “I would be a fool not to invite such a brilliant and promising young lad such as yourself. You may be significantly younger than the rest of the attendees, but I assure you that your skills match their own.”

Pride swelled through Anakin so suddenly that he found it quite difficult not to appear shocked. Still, he figured no one else but Palpatine was around, so it was likely acceptable this time. Besides, his mother always taught him not to expect gifts or invitations from anyone, even if it seemed deserved.

“Wow, this is an honor, sir.” He said, “Thank you.”

“No need for thanking me.” He insisted, “It is my pleasure to host! Now, it is usually a more formal event, so be sure you and your guest are dressed appropriately. You ought to look the part of the chosen one.”

“My guest?” He asked.

“Ah yes, invite whoever you like, but remember, they are to represent you!” He wagged a finger at him, “Not everyone is cut from the same cloth, shame as that might be. So choose carefully!”

Despite having never heard of such an event, he knew this would be a meaningful night and wanted so terribly for Palpatine to be right. Clearly, the seasoned professor saw something in Anakin if he already belonged amongst the most elite brilliant wizards at a banquet in their honor. He did not want to mess this up.

***

“Looking good up there,” Miraj Scintel, a Slytherin fourth year who was almost alarmingly feline in nature and physicality, purred from a position on the bleachers. Anakin hadn’t even noticed her thanks to the howling wind and the freezing rain that decided to bestow itself upon them for practice.

“Oh, hey!” He hoped he was smiling, but his face was feeling pretty numb from the cold. He forgot his scarf again and was going to be annoyed if he caught a cold. His mum certainly wouldn’t let him hear the end of that, or worse: Obi-Wan wouldn’t let him hear the end of that.

“I always knew you were gifted, Skywalker,” She smiled, bearing sharp teeth that looked ready to sink into her prey. Anakin knew that wasn’t him, due to his own powers that couldn’t be stopped, so he didn’t fear her. He just hovered nearby on his broom. He preferred being off the ground anyway.

“Thanks! Cody says we stand a good chance of a comeback.”

“As a Slytherin, I’m pretty sure commenting on that would be treasonous.” She said smoothly.

He wondered if the smooth beige fur that lined her skin protected her from the cold in the winter or worse, if it made summers brutal. He knew it was rude to ask, but he’d have to ask Obi-Wan later. He certainly wasn’t going to waste time looking it up in a big book.

“You guys were lucky we weren’t in the right headspace.” Anakin challenged.

“I’m sure,” She laughed, “I don’t play so… I don’t have much stakes in the game aside from knowing true power and talent when I see it.”

“Really?”

“Indeed,” She nodded slowly, keeping her eyes fixated on his, “And my father has an in with the Bulgarian professional team.”

Anakin didn’t even know where Bulgar was located, but it sounded impressive. Not wanting to sound dumb, he nodded and made sure to give her the kind of awe that she obviously sought out with such a reveal.

“Maybe I could tell him about you.” She shrugged, “If you keep doing such amazing things.”

“I don’t know if you’ll need to,” He smirked, “I am the chosen one.”

“That you are,” She raised an eyebrow at him, “In more ways than one. I suppose the true question, is who are you going to choose?”

“For what?” Anakin frowned.

“To take to the moon with you, Anakin.” She said as though it were obvious, “That broom looks like it's built for two at maximum capacity.”

He looked behind him and thought about that. He knew it was a metaphor, but he really only ever pictured Padmé riding on the back of his broom. He’d never admit that out loud, because it sounded incredibly corny and also impossible for his present image.

“Oh, I’m not planning on falling in love or anything like that, sorry.” He said honestly. He didn’t want Miraj to get the wrong idea.

“Who said anything about love?” She scoffed. “Love is for the weak. No, what you need is a co-conspirator.”

***

Cody massaged his temples as he tried to will himself the strength to focus on the textbook in front of him. For what had to be the millionth time, he pondered why there weren’t any memory spells that could assist in studying. Even magic had its limitations, sure, but there were spells to erase one’s memory. Why not the opposite?

With a dejected sigh, he slammed his head down to the pages.

“I know I say do whatever works, but I’m not sure that’s an effective study method.” Satine commented as she sat down next to him. He didn’t have to look up to know that Kenobi slid in the seat across from her and likely had a smirk that matched her own.

“You could shove this book straight between my ears and I still wouldn’t get it.” Cody groaned.

One of them patted him on the shoulder- presumably Kenobi by the firmness of it, while the other poked him.

“Once again, I think you’re just being too hard on yourself,” Kenobi said, “Over-thinking has never served you well.”

“Yeah you’ve always thrived on instinct.” Satine said with a nudge, “It’s like remembering Quidditch plays.”

“This is nothing like Quidditch.” Cody tilted his head up enough to lean on his hands, “If it were, I’d be attending Palpatine’s precious pet banquet with the lot of you.”

“Not to worry, Cody, I’m also not attending.” Satine said as she flipped open her own book rather indignantly.

“And just what are you protesting this time?” Kenobi asked.

Had Cody not been too busy commiserating, he would have likely asked the same question, but he was glad he didn’t, because it was immediately apparent that it was the wrong question.

“First of all, I’m not sure I appreciate the underlying exasperation in your tone.” She said, “Just because I choose to stand against social injustice does not make me some annoying zealot. Secondly, I am not protesting anything, because I wasn’t invited.”

Cody’s head shot up completely this time in a mixture of shock and affront. Kenobi seemed just as surprised too, because he didn’t even offer a counter-argument to Satine’s earlier point. They shared a look of disbelief before turning to her for an explanation that never came.

After a moment of likely feeling their gazes burning through her skull, she finally looked up, perturbed that she was interrupted from whatever nonsense she’d gotten herself into reading.

“What?”

“That’s impossible!” Cody complained, “Surely, there’s some sort of mistake.”

“Seriously, you’re top of our class.” Kenobi said, before finishing, “Besides me.”

She rolled her eyes, “Believe it or not, Ben, Palpatine doesn’t exactly choose based on academic placement, alone. He’s chosen quite a few bimbos in the past, actually. Sure, academia helps, but you need status in order to catch his gaze. And conveniently enough, he never invites muggle borns.”

“Are you sure about that?” Cody asked, “He’s never struck me as the sort to think so… What’s the term?”

“Single-mindedly? Aristocratically? Bigoted? Subservient to an archaic belief of blood superiority? I could go on if you need more.” Satine listed them off with such ease that Cody realized she must have thought about them more often than either he or Kenobi could fathom. Such a realization both saddened and surprised him, and even more so when he realized he shouldn’t be all that surprised in the first place.

“That’s not right.” Kenobi pinched his chin thoughtfully, “Perhaps, he was limited in spaces.”

“Well, he had no problem inviting your mentee.” She said pointedly, “Who is twelve years old, need I remind you.”

“Anakin made the cut?” His eyes widened. “Usually, only sixth and seventh years are invited.”

“Did you even pay attention to the list? Or did you stop when you saw your name at the top?” She asked. “Of course he did. He’s the chosen one! While a half-blood raised in the muggle world, his prophetic background immediately moves him to the A-list.”

“Palpatine’s pals.” Cody whistled, “An elite breed for a young kid.”

Kenobi seemed to consider that for a long moment and by the end of his line of thoughts, it was unclear what his opinion on that matter ended up being. Like many times, he transitioned topics and kept his face neutral. If he wasn’t already set on being an auror, Cody would have suggested he become an actor.

“Well, it makes no difference in the end, I suppose.” He said, “I assumed you would be going with me anyway.”

“What do you mean?” Satine asked.

Cody couldn’t believe it. He looked back and forth between the two of them in amusement. Was this how it was going to happen? It was a lot less theatrical than he’d expected, seeing as the two of them seemed to always be quarreling when they weren’t “secretly” fawning over the other. He expected it to go a lot of ways, but never with Kenobi so casually putting it out on the table.

“We get plus one’s.” He shrugged, “Perhaps, that’s why Palpatine excluded you from the list. He figured I would automatically bring you because of our relationship.”

Satine raised an eyebrow, “Our relationship?”

“We’re friends.” He said slowly, as though he might have been reminding himself of that fact too.

Not the correct thing to say.

Satine clenched her jaw, “Yes, well, how was I to even know this little arrangement would be happening if you were never intending on mentioning it?”

“I’m mentioning it now.” Kenobi said. “It’s not like it’s a date or anything.”

Cody wondered how someone so smart could say the wrong thing so often.

“Yes, that would be ridiculous, wouldn’t it?” Satine said.

Kenobi seemed utterly dumbfounded, “Did you want it to be a-”

“-Why would I want that?” She cut him off immediately and Cody found himself bobbing his head back and forth between them. Sometimes, it felt like he was watching an exciting ping pong match.

“I don’t know.” Kenobi said, though he had the decency to look a bit offended by her immediate dismissal, “It’s hardly anything more than a networking event. You would likely hate the whole experience, anyway.”

“You are really selling this evening to me.” She frowned.

“You don’t have to come if you do not wish,” Kenobi said, though Cody could see his best friend stiffen, “It was just an offer.”

“And what an offer it is!” She flared, placing both hands on the table as though prepared to launch herself to her feet for a dramatic exit, “An offhand comment suggesting I essentially be your tag-a-along to an event that I was deliberately overlooked for. Sign me up! I should be so lucky to be your casual pick. You truly know how to make a girl feel special.”

“Satine-” He didn’t get very far, of course. When she was on a roll, she was on a roll.

“What were you going to do the night of the party if I had already found a date?” She steamrolled, now half-standing as she leaned forward towards him, “Or was that never an actual possibility in that head of yours? Answer wisely.”

Kenobi stammered, though Cody noticed he was obviously bothered by the implication, “Did you have someone you’d rather go with than your best friend?”

“Perhaps, I did!” She thundered.

Kenobi reverberated for a moment as though he suffered terrible whiplash before finally saying, “Well, it’s not a date anyway so-”

“Yes, you’ve made that abundantly clear, which works out quite nicely for me,” She said as she fully stood, “Seeing as it’s not a date and I’m a friend, which apparently means I’m unworthy of any notice, formal invitation, or courtesy. So, as a friend, I’ll feel no guilt in standing you up.”

“Well- fine!” Kenobi said back, “I’ll find someone else to go! Someone less mad!”

“Good luck with that!” She grinned sardonically as she turned to take her leave, “Because anyone who agrees to go with your passive arrogance would have to be bloody insane.”

Kenobi opened his mouth and shut it again, annoyed that she’d managed to get the last word in before she was fully gone- a tactic both have used in the past. Everyone in the library, including Jocasta Nu, was shooting unsure looks towards their table. He didn’t seem to notice from where he stewed, keeping his eyes trained on where she left.

“So, who are you going to ask?” Cody asked.

Kenobi groaned and flopped his head down towards his textbook with a thud.

“You wouldn’t happen to be interested in a free dinner, would you?” His voice was muffled from the book, but Cody always understood the language of food.

Despite how it might not resonate well with Satine, Cody couldn’t not agree to those terms. Unlike her, he would rather it not be a date.

***

“Rex, guess what?” Anakin came barreling into the Gryffindor common room with a burst of excitement that Rex had grown used to over the year and half of knowing his friend. Still, they hadn’t been hanging out nearly as much as they used to, so he found himself quite surprised to be the recipient of such grand news.

“What?” He asked, closing his History of Magic textbook for the night. He knew if Anakin got enthusiastic enough, that he would not be returning to his homework for tonight.

“I got invited to Palpatine’s Academic Bash!” He pressed his hands into the armrest of the couch, using it for stability as he bounced up and down.

“His… What?” Rex frowned. He distinctly recalled that unofficial school holiday events were banned per Headmaster Yoda’s call for safety. It was not lost on Rex that such safety measures were likely designed with Anakin in mind, specifically.

“It’s this end of the term banquet that he has with his most esteemed students where we all get dressed up and eat a bunch of fancy foods. It’s basically a big networking event where Palpatine helps set the older students up with connections to make them successful beyond Hogwarts.”

“And why are you invited, then?” Rex asked, much to Anakin’s incredulousness.

“Hello?” He gestured to himself, “Chosen One? Have you forgotten?”

“How could I? You scarcely let me do so.” He deadpanned, “I still don’t get why you would even want to go to that sort of thing. Sounds much more up Obi-Wan’s alley.”

“Well, he’s invited too, of course.” Anakin waved a hand, “It’s usually exclusive to sixth years and seventh years.”

All of the students that were amongst Palpatine’s “pals” as they were often referred to by outsiders, were all exceptionally gifted and intelligent witches and wizards. He didn’t see how Rex could be so confused by Anakin’s being lumped in with them. Sure, he was younger, but in terms of power and potential, he was right there.

“Still sounds stuffy.” Rex shrugged.

“Well,” Anakin couldn’t help but deflate a bit, annoyed that Rex wasn’t immediately leaping to his level of excitement, “Since it’s an academic event, the school is allowing it, so it’s better than sitting around doing nothing.”

“I suppose.” Rex said.

“I thought about asking Padmé to go with me, but I don’t want her to get the wrong impression,” Anakin said, “Can’t have her falling in love with me. That would make things far too complicated.”

“I’m sure.” Rex snorted, “Well, if you need someone to endure the bureaucratic dribble with I guess-”

“-Miraj Scintel would probably want to go.” Anakin tapped his chin.

“What?”

“Miraj Scintel.” Anakin said simply, “You know, my friend from Slytherin house. 4th year Miraj? Super pretty, but not my type? You know, the popular girl who I’ve been sitting with at Dueling Club-”

“-I know who she is.” Rex spat, “Why are you taking her?”

Anakin sat on the armrest, “I dunno, we’re friends. I think she’d like it.”

“And what about me?” He asked.

Anakin frowned, “You just said you didn’t want to go.”

“You didn’t invite me! I thought you were just bragging.”

“When do I do that?”

“All of the time!” Rex said, “Were you even going to ask me anyway?”

Anakin paused and Rex launched up from where he’d been sitting on the couch.

“You weren’t, were you?” He accused.

“I never said that!” Anakin said, “I would just rather bring someone who wants to go is all. Plus, Miraj fits in a bit better with that crowd of people.”

“And I don’t?”

“Not really.” Anakin shrugged, “You always choose to hang back or walk away whenever I’m with my new friends.”

“Is that how you see it?” He laughed sardonically, “Boy are you full of it, you know that?”

“What are you on about?” Anakin crossed his arms.

“What am I on about? I haven’t been walking away from you! You haven’t invited me once to hang with you and your new friends. You keep flaunting this Chosen One title around like it’s such a great thing when in reality, it sounds like it’s only going to get really scary from here on out. I mean, my family has gone to Hogwarts for years and the professors have never seen it fit to have a club where students basically learn to fight.”

Anakin frowned, “I’m not flaunting anything around. I am the Chosen One. That’s what I am. And Chosen Ones are heroes, who don’t cower down from the future or when things get bad. Neither do Gryffindors in general, actually.”

“I’m not cowering down. I’m just trying to be realistic!” Rex barked back.

“I don’t expect you to understand what it’s like having all eyes depending on you to be brave, but that is the reality.” Anakin shrugged, “And a real friend would support me on that.”

“Are you kidding me?” Rex all but shouted, throwing his books aside, “Ever since this whole thing started, you’ve been ditching me like I’m Flobberworm fodder to you.”

“No, you have taken every opportunity to either avoid me or lash out any time anyone else treats me nice!”

“That’s because they’re only being nice to you because you’re the Chosen One!”

“That’s not true!” Anakin said and pointed a firm finger at his seething friend, “You’re just jealous that everyone likes me now.”

“But I liked you before any of that!” Rex shouted, “It didn’t matter to me if you were famous or if you were powerful. When no one else in this blasted school believed you, not even Obi-Wan, I did. I stood by your side and stuck up for you. You were the last person I’d ever think would fall for this stupid fame rap, but I guess I was wrong.”

Anakin’s mouth felt dry, but it didn’t stop his stupid words from taking form anyway- coming from a place of hurt so bleak that he didn’t realize it still existed there from his loneliness of last year,

“Well, you don’t have to worry about me being your charity case anymore. I’d rather have friends that are happier for me instead of sulking all the time anyway.” He said.

“Sure, have fun with Miraj at Palpatine’s stupid party! I’m sure she’ll just love puckering up to your arse every time you so much as breathe. See if she still likes you next time you fall flat on your face and don’t ask me to come pick you back up.”

“And good luck on the bench this year!” It felt mean even as he said it, but Anakin decided he wasn’t wanted here anymore as he stormed back down the steps towards the exit, trying not to look anyone else in the face as tears began to spring from his eyes. He ran into Cody on his way down, who tried to grab him by the wrist, but Anakin slipped from his potential grasp and descended the stairs anyway.

On his way out, he heard Cody ask, “What the bloody hell just happened?”

It seemed Anakin was out a friend. It was no matter, he told himself. He had plenty of other friends now.

He would just have to keep telling himself that.

***

Obi-Wan was surprised to find Anakin sitting by himself in the courtyard. It was far from a safe position for him to be in, given the price that was likely out on his head by Maul, but the boy was so sullen that he couldn’t find it in him to admonish him. He wasn’t crying, but didn’t look far from it.

“I don’t care if you give me detention, Obi-Wan.” Anakin said and pressed his forehead into his knees as he brought them closer to him, likely in an effort to keep himself warm. “Just leave me alone.”

Obi-Wan sighed through his nose and carefully pulled his robe off of him before draping it around Anakin, followed by giving him his scarf. There wasn’t going to be much of a Chosen One left if he froze to death in the December chill. He dusted the stone bench free of drifting snow and ice before taking a seat beside him.

“What happened?” He finally asked, breaking the silence that bounded them. The whirl of the wind whistled through and around the many towers and seemed to battle with itself in the heart of the courtyard.

Anakin had been having a great year from the looks of it, contrary to his previous year. He made new friends, grew a lot of confidence (perhaps, a bit too much), and was behaving better in class. Another psychopathic dark wizard was after him, yes, but he seemed to take it in stride in comparison to how he reacted to his fear of Windu before. This behavior seemed very out of the blue to Obi-Wan.

He sighed heavily, causing a wreath of frosty air to circulate around him, “Rex doesn’t want to be my friend anymore.”

Now, that didn’t sound right at all. Rex had stuck with Anakin through the thickest of thick and didn’t seem keen on going anywhere. He’d been a loyal and true friend, one that Anakin was lucky to have. It simply did not add up.

Then, Obi-Wan counted back to the previous months, thinking about how Anakin hadn’t been seen with Rex nearly as much, how his mentee had grown popular with other and older students, or how Anakin seemed quite boastful as of late.

“Did he say why?”

“He’s upset I’m taking Miraj Scintel to Palpatine’s banquet.” He huffed, “Which is ridiculous, because he hates potions and was dogging the event in general until I told him I was inviting someone else.”

“Ah, I see.” Obi-Wan slumped against the wall a bit, but it was colder than anything he’d ever touched and he straightened his posture again, “I must admit, I’m not sure I’m the best candidate to be giving advice on this specific matter. I’m somewhat in a similar pickle.”

“You’re also bringing Miraj Scintel to Palpatine’s banquet?” Anakin wrinkled his nose, “She never struck me as your type.”

“She’s not!” Obi-Wan insisted, “I’m not taking her, but one of my friends is upset that I didn’t elect to ask them more formally.”

“Why didn’t you?” Anakin asked, loosening his grip on his legs and letting his feet touch the stone again.

Obi-Wan breathed out his own cloud of air, admiring for a moment how picturesque it looked in the reflective light from the torches that hung above them. He was grateful for them, of course, because they provided at least a little warmth to fight off the freezing December. He couldn’t explain it, but he always liked the smell of the cold- the freshness of it. He just never quite enjoyed feeling it.

He rubbed his hands along his arms in an effort to warm up, “I thought… It went without saying that we were to go together.”

Anakin frowned, “That’s awful dumb of you. How is someone supposed to know they’re invited if you never say anything?”

Obi-Wan snorted, always amused at the sheer lack of thought that went into Anakin’s words sometimes, “Yes, I know that now, thank you. It is for that reason that I am now bringing Cody to the banquet.”

“Cody?” Anakin squawked, “He’s not going to fit in at all!”

“That doesn’t matter,” Obi-Wan said, “It’s about who you want to bring, not about who you feel would make the best trophy to show off.”

Obi-Wan was quite glad that Satine wasn’t there to call him out on the sheer hypocrisy of that statement. Being a Kenobi and hosting many parties, meant that most of his life had been surrounded by various upscale wizards flashing their trophy husbands or wives or children.

“But why would I want to bring someone who’s been nothing but negative this entire term? It’s like he’s not even happy for me for being popular.”

“Popularity isn’t everything, Anakin.” Obi-Wan said, rubbing his hands together now, “It’s better to have fewer great friends than more fairweather friends.”

“What’s a fairweather friend?” Anakin asked.

“The kind who only wants to be around you when you’re on top.” He explained, “So maybe, it’s not that you’ve invited Miraj, but that you neglected to think of Rex. It could quite possibly just be a buildup of feelings.”

“Well, how am I supposed to know the difference between a fairweather friend and a real friend?” He asked, bright blue eyes looking troubled and concerned at the difference.

“You’ll know when things get tough again.” Obi-Wan said and draped an arm around Anakin’s shoulders, partially because he was starting to lose feeling in his limbs from being outside for as long as they were.

“You’re a real friend.” Anakin said quietly.

“I’d like to think so.” Obi-Wan really did, too. He knew Satine was rightfully quite upset with him at the moment, but he liked to think that he was there for his friends when they needed him. He wasn’t perfect, but he did intend to show Anakin the proper values for him to proceed. “And it is my humble opinion that you should try to make up with Rex.”

“But how? He basically told me to bugger off and not to come back.” Anakin said, “And I don’t really want to, right now.”

“Sometimes, you have to be the better person and put yourself out there.” Obi-Wan advised.

“Just like you did with Satine?” Anakin arched an eyebrow at him.

“I- I never said I was quarreling with Satine.”

“When aren’t you is the better question.” He said, “It’s just a date. What’s the big deal?”

“First of all, it’s not a date. It’s a social gathering amongst intellectual acquaintances that she and I would merely be attending together in formal attire. Second of all, it’s past curfew and you’re lucky I haven’t taken to removing points from Gryffindor by now.”

“Sure, sure.” Anakin rolled his eyes, “Still not sure what I’m going to do about Rex. I already asked Miraj.”

“Just be honest with him. Give him some time to cool off.” Obi-Wan said and stood up, “Speaking of cooling off, I think we’ve done enough of that, wouldn’t you say?”

***

Anakin knew Obi-Wan had to be right in his advice to make up with Rex, but the trouble was finding the timing for such a thing. However, he reasoned this would be much easier to do once this silly banquet that started the quarrel in the first place was over. It didn’t make the way Rex refused to meet his eyes any easier.

In fact, Anakin began to understand some of what Rex had been talking about, as though he’d just noticed his friend’s absence. Even with Jax, Tru, and Ferus chatting with him eagerly about the banquet at breakfast, he couldn’t help but revert his eyes down the table to where Rex ate quietly with his brothers. All but Cody were present, who was actually sitting with Obi-Wan and Satine. Anakin wondered if his mentor was taking his own advice on that front.

He was relieved when Qui-Gon got up from his seat at the front of the Great Hall and walked over to him, making everyone else look rather small in comparison.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, Anakin, but may I have a word?” He asked kindly, nodding cordially to the other boys.

“Oh, sure!” Anakin slid out from his seat, “I’ll see you later, guys!”

As he followed the large Head of House out of the Great Hall, he met Obi-Wan’s nondescript stare from across the room, but didn’t think much of it. Whatever obvious disagreement was happening between Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan was their business. Anakin had enough trouble on his hands as it were.

They didn’t speak until they drifted down to his office, which was decorated aplomb with Christmas joy, even though his party wouldn’t be happening this year. He especially liked the charmed elf decoration that skated in endless crazy eights across the surface of his mantle. It was particularly interesting that Qui-Gon never seemed to stick exclusively to wizard-made decor. Instead, there were plenty of lights and trappings of garland that could be found in any muggle hardware store. It infused Anakin with the sort of merriment that felt akin to magic before he had a full grasp on his abilities.

“Is this about the necklace?” He asked.

“Yes and no.” Qui-Gon said as he leaned against his desk, “I heard you were invited to Sheev’s end of the year dinner party.”

Anakin scratched his head, briefly performing mental gymnastics to remember that Palpatine’s first name was certainly not “Professor” and that Qui-Gon likely didn’t call him by that when they were outside of professional settings. Still, he was also unsure what his invitation had to do with anything.

“Uh, and what of it?” He asked.

“Congratulations,” Though it sounded more of a formality than sincerity, “It’s unheard of that someone so young be invited.”

“Yeah, Professor Palpatine says he’s never met a wizard like me.” Anakin shrugged, trying not to boast lest he prove Rex correct.

“No one is the same as each other.” He said, “Everyone offers their own different strengths and weaknesses that deserve to be celebrated.”

“I think he just likes to do something nice for the gifted kids.” Anakin said.

“I’m sure Professor Palpatine means no malice in his little get-together, but segmenting chosen students with no official system for doing so can be… Misleading. All students at Hogwarts are gifted and regardless of grades, skills, or social standing, no one is overall better than the other.”

Anakin really didn’t see how that could be true, even if he weren’t the chosen one.

“So, you don’t want me to go?” Anakin asked.

“I did not say that.” He poured himself a cup of tea and sighed, “Quite the opposite, actually, I think it’s important you do attend the dinner.”

“No offense, but you’re not making much sense, Qui-Gon.”

He chuckled, “I’m not, am I?”

“No, sir. It doesn’t sound like you agree with Palpatine having a party at all. So, why encourage me to go?” Anakin decided to make himself comfortable and take a seat. Qui-Gon had a tendency to be long-winded, so he might as well prepare for a lecture.

“I have nothing negative to say about his having a party,” Qui-Gon said, “Do I wish he were a bit clearer in his system beyond picking favorites, perhaps? There are bigger issues at play, though, and it’s not my position or place anyway.”

“So, what is it?”

“As you know, Palpatine has a tendency to adopt people, so to speak, and not in a bad way, but with the hopes of passing down his own wisdom from past experiences.” He said, “And he’s included many interesting cases in this little club of his over the years. One of whom, many years ago, was a sixth year Slytherin boy who many considered to be… Troubled. Immensely talented? Yes, but it was how he used that power that was always concerning the professors.”

“How did he use it?” Anakin asked.

“You see, outside of the classroom he didn’t have many friends. He was aggressive and would occasionally perform some rather sinister tricks on those that crossed him. He was gifted at charms and transfiguration above all else and was even caught performing some rather… Disturbing spells on animals and leaving them in students’ beds.”

“Who was he?” Anakin asked.

He lifted a navy and silver leather bound book from his desk and flipped through some of the pages before finding what he’d been looking for. Wordlessly, Qui-Gon turned the book and pointed to a moving school portrait of Maul.

The rock that dropped in his stomach made Anakin question the company of this exclusive club that he was being invited into.

Anakin wrinkled his nose, “That’s terrible! Why would Palpatine want to take him under his wing?”

“I’m not sure,” Qui-Gon frowned, “I suspect he wanted to help him, but…”

“But what?”

He placed his teacup down delicately before folding his hands in front of him, “It would benefit us to learn whatever we can about Maul and his potential motives for seeking you out. As of right now, Palpatine is the only person I know who was close with him.”

“So, you want me to go to the banquet to get information from Palpatine?” Anakin clarified and for some reason, the task didn’t sit right with him. In fact, it felt an awful lot like spying.

“I warn you to act with discretion, of course,” Qui-Gon raised a hand, “Sheev has never mentioned Maul once in the years I’ve known him. The only reason I’m aware of his previous kinship with Maul was because I… Stumbled upon this information as a first year. I’d not thought much of it then, but now… It would certainly be wise to see what he knows.”

“Will it upset him?” Anakin couldn’t help but ask. After all, he was already out one friend right now. He really didn’t need to go cutting off all his ties.

“I think it would upset him more if anything bad were to happen to you as a result of his own silence.” Qui-Gon clarified, “The truth, while not always easy, must come out.”

***

Padmé was having a difficult time figuring out what she wanted to get her friends for Christmas. It was to no surprise that Hondo tried to weasel his way into her decision making process, armed with t-shirts, trinkets, and buttons with Anakin Skywalker’s face plastered all over it. She would have laughed if the exploitation of the younger student wasn’t a little sad. It was even worse that Anakin didn’t seem to have a grasp yet on why this wasn’t ideal.

She was in the process of knitting a scarf for Yané with a new spell she learned in charms, when she noticed him walk by looking quite out of place in an oversized suit. For once, he was alone and without his newfound posse of older students.

“Anakin?” He halted right in his tracks at her call, appearing uncharacteristically lost in thought.

“Oh, hey Padmé!” He chirped, but lacked some of the boyish excitement that usually emanated off of him. She was beginning to wonder if the stress of Maul’s looming presence was getting to him. She knew she would be afraid if there was not one, but two, bad guys on the hunt for her.

“What’s with the suit?” She gestured to his outfit.

“Oh, you know, gotta fit in with the big boys.” He did that thing where he was trying desperately to seem like he belonged. She wondered briefly where that stemmed from.

“Ah, I heard you were going to Palpatine’s dinner party.” She said.

“Yeah, I’m actually on my way to pick up my date.” He leaned against the doorframe, clearly trying to impress her with such information. For what reason, she didn’t understand, but didn’t doubt it had to do with this macho facade he had clearly been building for the other students.

“Date?” She played along.

“Miraj Scintel. Don’t take it personally.” He waved her off, “She really wanted to go.”

Padmé wasn’t shocked by that. She didn’t know Miraj too well, given she was a grade older and a Slytherin, which meant they essentially walked different circles here at Hogwarts. However, she knew enough to know that her crowd of people wasn’t exactly notorious for being warm and fuzzy. Her parents, like Padmé’s, were dignitaries, though not known as a very merciful and kind sort.

In fact, there were some dark rumors about how they ran their government.

“Why would I take it personally?” She snorted.

“Because you know…” He trailed off.

“No…” She said slowly.

“Oh,” Anakin ran a hand through his floppy blond hair and winced, “Well, sometimes girls get jealous when you ask someone else to go to dinners or parties or something. Pretty sure that’s the gist of what’s happening to Obi-Wan and Satine.”

Padmé straightened, “We’re not like them of course.”

Anakin floundered a bit at that, “No no, of course not! They’re… Weird and we’re…”

“Friends.” She finished with a smile.

“We are?” He asked, which made her laugh.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t we be?” She asked.

“I dunno, really,” He smiled shyly, “Age differences and all that.”

“Aren’t you taking an older woman as your date tonight?” She asked wryly.

“Obi-Wan says this isn’t a date.” He said, “I think he’s just saying that because he didn’t want Cody getting any ideas.”

“Why’s he taking Cody?” Padmé gaped.

“He mentioned something about being a fool, but he really does not like to talk about his feelings.” Anakin sighed, “Guess he’s got some growing up to do on that front.”

That got Padmé legitimately laughing. Maybe it was because the kid who lost Gryffindor 5 points for getting caught calling Windu a “doo-doo head” behind his back was doling out advice on maturity.

He glanced at the automatically moving knitting needles that worked next to her, “What are you making?”

“A scarf, probably,” She turned to resume with her hands, “I know it’s not as exciting as an elegant dinner party with the fellow elites, but if I want to get it ready by Christmas I’ve got to get a move on.”

“I’m sure you’ve had plenty of fancy dinners.” Anakin stuck his hands in his pockets.

“Yeah, they’re not all they’re cracked up to be.” She smirked, “So, if you get sick of the party life or the tiny little finger sandwiches, please feel free to lend a helping hand. I could use someone to untangle the yarn.”

“Surely, there are spells for that too.” He said.

“Maybe, but some things are better when you put a little earnest hard work into it.”

“You kinda sound like my mom.” Anakin smiled softly and after a moment of gazing somewhere in the distance he sighed, “Yeah, well, I better be off.”

“Have fun on your hot date.” She teased.

“I will.” He said, though he no longer seemed so sure of it.

***

“No flowers?” Cody teased as Obi-Wan met his friend outside of Gryffindor’s common room as previously agreed upon. Obi-Wan truly should have expected Cody to miss the memo about dressing formally (even though he, himself, reminded him), but he was still aghast when his friend emerged wearing his Quidditch sweater and dark jeans.

“What happened to black tie?” He answered instead.

“Oh, I don’t have one.” Cody shrugged.

“But you do have a collared shirt and dress pants seeing as you wear them every school day.” Obi-Wan countered and referred to his own attire of a black and white tuxedo set of dress robes. “Is that a stain on the collar of your sweater?”

“Could be.” Cody tugged on the hem of it and ducked his chin to inspect before allowing it to snap back into place, “Seems like ketchup, though. Luckily, it practically blends in with the red.”

“It doesn’t.” He said.

“Look, if you wanted someone who would have looked a little more to your fancy, you would have just sucked it up and apologized to Satine.” He said and smacked him on the back, “But since the both of you are more stubborn than two bulls in a stare down, this is what you get. Frankly, you’re quite lucky I showered beforehand. I did have practice today.”

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, “Let the record show that I have tried to apologize to Satine. She just never makes it quite easy.”

“She’ll come around,” Cody said, “Plus, I doubt she’s solely mad at you.”

“You’d be surprised how easy she finds it to be mad at me.”

“And likewise.” Cody said.

“The only difference is, I struggle with staying mad at her.” It was a bit too honest, it seemed, because Cody was regarding him with a smug look on his face that he didn’t quite appreciate. He’d rather be in on the joke, after all.

As they drew nearer to Palpatine’s office, they passed Ventress, who was dressed for the event in a black low-cut gown with a slit down the side. Her short-cropped hair was slicked back and her makeup was even harsher than usual, making her bone-white cheeks appear so sharp that they were almost hollow. She seemed to be waiting for someone, presumably whatever sad sack was to be her plus one, and was sure to glare at them as they passed.

“I see you’re slumming it, Kenobi.” She taunted, “Couldn’t get a date?”

“At least I didn’t likely have to bribe my guest, Ventress.” He responded swiftly and kept them moving.

“Or threaten.” Cody added offhandedly and when they got out of earshot said, “I won’t mention that I’m mostly here for the food.”

“Yes, thank you.” He muttered. “Let’s just get this thing over with.”

“Satine’s right, you really do know how to send the tones of a date.” Cody chuckled.

“This isn’t a- oh, nevermind.” He sighed, realizing that he wasn’t much in the mood to defend his case on that just now, “Who do you reckon she wanted to go with?”

“What do you mean?” He asked as they took their seats around the round clothed table. They were some of the first to arrive to the group that was unsurprisingly mostly composed of Slytherins. Palpatine was their Head of House, of course, so it made sense he spent the most time with them.

“Satine.” Obi-Wan unraveled the cloth napkin and smoothed it on his leg, “She was offended that I never considered if she’d want to go with someone else.”

“I don’t know if that’s the bit she was harping on.” Cody said carefully.

“Yes, I know, and she isn’t wrong about the company being a bit… Obvious.” Obi-Wan did see a downcast Anakin trailing behind who he presumed to be Miraj Scintel, whose Zygerrian feline features made her look much older and more sophisticated than 14 or 15. Her dress was long-sleeved and dark turquoise in fabric, but contained several plates of ornate gold to match the headband clasped at the front of her forehead.

“Anakin, dear, do fetch me some sparkling cider.” She said in a haughty voice that was meant to be heard. Her yellow eyes narrowed at him when he didn’t immediately leap at her request. “I have many words to exchange with the grownups.”

Anakin, who never leapt at anyone’s demands, shot her a sideways look and seemed ready to fire back his own opinions on that idea, but ended up just huffing and moving over to the concessions table.

“No,” Cody frowned as he noticed what was happening too, “She isn’t.”

***

Satine had far better uses of her time than sitting around a table, trading dull conversation with even duller people that were somehow measured as more impressive than she. Despite what she said to Cody and Obi-Wan, not being invited hadn’t really offended her all that much. That wasn’t to say she approved of Palpatine’s obvious biases. She wasn’t sure if the man even truly noticed he had them. He was never unkind to her or other muggle-borns explicitly, but there was certainly a bit of tokenism that came with their interactions. Truly, even if Obi-Wan had asked her in a more ideal manner, she wasn’t even sure if she’d go.

She sighed, because that was a lie and she knew it.

It certainly would have given her the opportunity to show just how flagrant Palpatine’s oversight had been. Beyond that, she wouldn’t have felt so utterly annoyed at her friend’s own obtusity.

How dare he just assume they’d go together without even asking? Even if they were to attend as friends, which she prided herself on questioning him about (if she weren’t so riled up, she was unsure she would have otherwise had the courage), it was only common decency to ask a person to go.

Really, she knew, it was the fact that he seemed dead-set on letting her know that it wasn’t a date that infuriated her beyond measure. Maybe that was a tad immature, since he certainly didn’t owe her dates or anything of the sort, but she couldn’t help but feel he was constantly sending her mixed signals these days. She should know, seeing as she couldn’t seem to stop hyper-analyzing every interaction they had together.

As she passed a bunch of fourth year girls that were gawking over Kit Fisto’s old Quidditch portrait, she rolled her eyes. She needed to ensure that she never got that boy crazy.

She decided on a trip to the library to return the books she’d borrowed on cursed objects. It was the simplest way to try and get Obi-Wan’s stupid incredulity off her mind. Besides, she never returned a book late before and she certainly wasn’t going to start now.

Professor Plo Koon had once again outdone himself with the decorations around the castle to commemorate the holiday season. It wasn’t the same without the promise of Qui-Gon’s party this year, but she could still take the time to appreciate the glittering icicles that hung along the ceiling. Only these, she noted, would have no risk of truly causing harm. She did have to reserve a chuckle at a startled first year, who leapt out of the way when an icicle “fell”, but they relaxed when it puffed into mist just above his head.

“Good evening, Ms. Nu.” Satine smiled at the older librarian, who never once looked like she was having an unpleasant day.

“How are you tonight, Miss Kryze?” She returned her mirth. Jocasta Nu always dressed for the holiday season and tonight was sporting a pair of earrings that looked like little red jingle bells adorned with holly.

“I’m well, thank you.” She nodded and handed over her stack of books to the bin, “Hoping to get a little light reading in.”

“Nothing new there!” She chuckled, “Though I was surprised to see you have a different studying partner for a change.”

Satine furrowed her brow, “Pardon? I haven’t got a new-”

She peered down the aisle to where she usually sat and noticed a set of legs from the seat opposite. She gave Jocasta Nu a sidelong glance before excusing herself to go investigate. It was silly, really, since it wasn’t like her name was inscribed in the wood finish. However, she spent more time in the library than most and everyone seemed to automatically know where she would be sitting.

Who she found was none other than Fenn Rau, who looked up immediately from his borrowed copy of Quidditch Through the Ages and offered her a small smile. He set down the book and placed a navy striped bookmark to save his spot.

“Forgive me if I’m intruding.” He said.

“It is a free library.” She joked, “You are free to sit wherever you choose.”

“This really is the best spot in the library.” He admired and looked around them. “No draft, away from the rubble, close to the most interesting books, and not too far from the entrance for comfort. You’ve chosen well!”

She followed his gaze around them and smiled, “I didn’t actually choose at all. Though I’m sure Ben took a lot of what you said into consideration. He’s a great deal more introspective than I am for such things.”

When his mouth twitched ever-so-slightly, Satine couldn’t help but think back to her conversation with Aayla and Stass. Still, when he made the friendly gesture for her to join him, she didn’t have much of a reason not to. She meant what she said to Jocasta Nu about getting some reading done and Fenn didn’t seem like the type to be noisy.

“Did you know Cody has the record for renting this book out the most?” Fenn laughed and showed her the inside of the book, where the library card had Cody’s signature embedded on several lines.

“When it comes to Quidditch, Cody doesn’t do anything in small doses.” Satine smiled, “I am surprised you chose to go out for the team. I don’t recall you ever having much interest in it before.”

“Things change.” He smiled, “People change.”

“Well, you’ve certainly proved yourself capable.” She said and moved to pull a book out from her bag.

“You know all about having to prove yourself, of course.” He said.

She raised an eyebrow at him and he quickly amended his statement, “I just meant being muggle-born and all. I get it. I mean, I’m not one. I’m a half blood, but it’s still strange, right? That there are different expectations for each of us based on something stupid like how we’re born. We’re all wizards, right?”

Satine felt a fire stoked within her and she straightened, “Exactly! And the fact that so many people don’t see that is beyond frustrating.”

“Well, some people don't know any better.” He said, “Look at the Kenobi’s. They’re one of the highest ranking families in the wizarding community. Do you think they could possibly understand what it’s like not to be born into wealth and status? I think they just assume they deserve it because they’ve had it for so long.”

She bit her tongue, because while she definitely agreed with some of his points, she wasn’t completely comfortable making them vocal right now.

Despite there not being any real cause for it, since Rau didn’t say anything explicitly, Satine still instinctively found herself saying, “Ben’s not like that, of course, so it’s got to be more than just a thing of nature.”

“Oh, of course! I never meant to insinuate otherwise.” He cleared his throat, “I know the two of you are quite close. I just… You’re just as good as him and yet you aren’t viewed as such. And between you and me, I don’t think I could ever go to some party where my friends aren’t wanted or welcome.”

She swallowed, unsure if he meant for that to sting the way that it did. He couldn’t possibly know he was uncovering one of her buried insecurities on the matter. She once again could not help dashing to his defense, which felt quite stupid given the circumstances.

“Well, originally he wanted to bring me.”

“I think.” She thought to herself. It wasn’t like he’d exactly seemed all that enthusiastic about the prospect of taking her.

“As a date?” Fenn perked up, even if he seemed to try and subdue any immediate reaction.

“No.” She rolled her eyes, “We’re just friends.”

“Ah, I see.” He nodded several times too many, but then shrugged, “He’s lucky to have a friend like you though.”

“Thank you. I know.” She chuckled, because perhaps Aayla and Stass were wrong about Rau’s intentions. It wasn’t like she ever saw him trailing along any friends. Maybe he was just a little awkward and in need of a friend. It was only a bonus that he seemed to have at least some critical understanding of the prejudice that still existed in their world.  

“I do hope he knows it too.” He teased.

“I think he does,” But she felt a biting indignance return to her, “Well, usually, anyway.”

Fenn frowned, “Usually?”

She shook her head. She wasn’t going to have this conversation right now and burden someone else with the stupid annoyance that plagued her. Oftentimes, her feelings confused her too much as it were. No need to dump all of it on someone else.

“I’m not at the party, am I?” She said and hoped she did so with the impression of wanting to leave it at that, “Besides, I don’t require validation from the potions professor to determine my value. I will be just fine on my own.”

“I’m sure of it.” Rau said, “He’s a fool for not choosing you in the first place.”

Whether he was talking about Obi-Wan or Palpatine had yet to be seen, but Satine couldn’t help but agree either way. Try as she might to argue otherwise, she did care that things were the way they were. She did care that she had to try twice as hard to be considered half as much. Even though Obi-Wan was her best friend, she knew there were opportunities he would always receive despite being on essentially the same playing field.

“Yes,” She said ardently, “He was.”

***

Anakin was beginning to understand why Palpatine’s annual dinner party was rarely occupied by younger students. He was having an impossibly difficult time staying awake. Miraj, as beautifully alluring and sophisticated as she was, wasn’t exactly the most loyal type, and sat between Ventress and Tarkin, the latter of whom she was obviously flirting with.

He was actually a bit relieved in a sense. It became despicably clear that the two didn’t have much in common beyond their intrigue in the darkness that hung over the horizon. She couldn’t seem to stop fixating on the dementors or the numerous near-death experiences. Anakin was wondering why he was tired of talking about them all the time now.

Classical Christmas music from a harp that played itself enveloped the room in a sleepy spirit and to Anakin felt a bit like a lullaby. Most of the chatter cycled around what each wizard’s prospects were for the future or what their parents did. It seemed mostly everyone already knew, so Anakin wasn’t quite sure why it bore repeating.

“So, mummy and daddy told the prime minister just where to shove his chilled water.” Scoffed Miraj, “Where I come from, presenting anything less than room temperature is enough for banishment.”

He didn’t quite get where she was from, but he made the mental note not to visit. Obi-Wan and Cody seemed to be making the same notation for themselves, because they both exchanged a surprised glance. Anakin was suddenly very glad that he was sitting with them instead.

“Truly, very few know how to behave around noblemen and women.” Tarkin, whose face always looked stretched stiff across his bones, showed the barest of smiles, “I’d have liked to see how you would have handled such an incident.”

“I’m merciful at the core, of course,” Miraj said, “But it does make one think about the divides in society, doesn’t it?”

Obi-Wan shifted in his seat beside Anakin and when he took a better look at his mentor, he couldn’t help but notice his jaw looked set with tension. His posture was perfectly straight and he’d hardly touched the sweet-soup that was in front of him. Anakin, on the other hand, couldn’t stop doing so as a distraction from this nonsense.

“That’s for your fingers,” Obi-Wan whispered and stretched out a napkin for Anakin.

“What?”

“That’s a finger bowl.” He nodded his head towards the little bowl, “For cleaning.”

Anakin looked down to the glass bowl to scrutinize it. He bent down, smelling the soft scent of lemon that was barely much more than a spritz for ambiance. When he shot back up, he glared at Obi-Wan.

“Why would I do that?” He asked.

“It’s meant to be cleansing before dessert.” He added gently, “Just go with it.”

“This is stupid.” He muttered and proceeded to dip his fingers in the bowl as instructed.

“I think it’s time our resident chosen one spoke of his impressive background.” Ventress practically hissed from across the table. Only difference was that Anakin would trust any snake before her, no matter how poisonous.

“Go on, Anakin.” Professor Palpatine smiled encouragingly, “I, too, am quite curious, actually.”

Had he really never mentioned his mum in detail to Palpatine before? He supposed it was possible. He was often so preoccupied when around the professor.

For some reason, he didn’t feel like he belonged anymore as he looked around the table. Even Miraj, who was supposed to be his plus one to the event, was looking at him in scrutiny.

“Well, I’m a half-blood.” Admitting this felt like lead on the tongue and he didn’t know why. He realized then that it was the first time he’d openly said such a thing. Sure, most knew that his mum is a witch and his dad was a muggle, but he’d never used the vocabulary to describe it in plain speech.

“I’ve no connection to my father.” He added, “But my mum is a witch and went to Hogwarts.”

“Why?” Ventress asked, her eyes narrowed and looking at him scathingly, though unlike Sebulba, who he at least returned some retaliation to, Anakin couldn’t quite figure out what he’d done for Ventress to hate him.

“Now, now, Ventress,” Palpatine said firmly, “That’s quite personal. If Anakin does not wish to share, that’s his-”

“-I never knew him.” Anakin bit harshly and looked at every single person at the table in the eyes, if only to make them a little uncomfortable by the truth, “He left before I was born and I was raised with the knowledge of being a wizard in an all-muggle world.”

“You poor thing.” Miraj said sadly, “That must have been dreadful.”

“Agreed,” Tarkin leaned back with crossed arms, “To not only bring a child into this world as a natural… Misfit, so to speak, but to bail out on one’s duties as a father.”

“Anakin is not a misfit, Tarkin.” Obi-Wan warned.

“Oh, I never meant it that way.” He held up white gloved hands and smiled a bit, “Just that it must be confusing to be raised that way, right Skywalker?”

Anakin shrugged, “Yeah, I was always getting into trouble.”

“Exactly! Like a square peg trying to fit into a circle.” He clapped a bit and then raised an eyebrow, “You know nothing of struggling to fit in, do you, Kenobi?”

Anakin didn’t understand the daring nature of Tarkin’s tone, but it did bring a decent amount of tension to Obi-Wan’s already stiff posture. He didn’t see how this would be much of a low-blow. Obi-Wan’s family was one of the most affluent in the wizarding community and surely never wanted for anything. Still, there was something about his mentor that reflected differently, like he never really wanted to be a part of all that.

“Everyone must struggle to find themselves.” Palpatine said as he swirled what must have been wine around his glass, raising it to inspect it in the emerald low-light, “I’ve helped many a student find their way.”

Was one of those students Maul?

“If only the muggles had your assistance, Professor.” Miraj said dutifully.

Obi-Wan cleared his throat, “Well, muggle-borns would probably be a decent start.”

Everyone stopped eating and looked at Obi-Wan in surprise. Even Cody seemed shocked by the candor of his friend. Anakin, on the other hand, was just realizing that he was the only person in the room that wasn’t a pureblood. Surely, that couldn’t have been intentional. Professor Palpatine was nothing but kind to every student he had. Maybe, this year he didn’t see any other students worthy of invitation.

Then again, there was the glaring omission of Satine that seemed to hang over everyone’s heads.

“Professor Palpatine can invite whomever he chooses fit, Kenobi.” Tarkin said stiffly.

Palpatine didn’t appear the least bit affected by the comment and instead raised his glass in Obi-Wan’s steely direction, “A good point, my dear boy. We, as a community, are moving forward in a diverse direction. I just do not wish to invite someone based on tokenism, but of their truest merit.”

“And what defines such a thing, Professor?” Obi-Wan asked, keeping his voice cordial. “Clearly, it cannot be solely academic prowess or athleticism.”

“Why, I simply like to invite students I’m closest with! Those who I’ve seen grow and become brilliant young witches and wizards over the years and who I believe I’ve had a hand in molding.” Palpatine shrugged with a small smile, “I truly wish some of the muggle-borns and half-bloods would follow Anakin’s example and allow themselves to accel in my potions classroom.”

Anakin nodded at this. It was true that he had been gravitating towards Palpatine since the beginning of his time at Hogwarts. While he never fancied himself a teacher’s pet in the past, he didn’t understand why people were so afraid to talk to their professors.

“Good enough for you and your sudden zest for socio-political justice?” Ventress asked and the condescending tone she was giving Obi-Wan was what made Anakin angrier than anything else.

“It will have to be.” Obi-Wan said with a sip of sparkling cider.

Cody grinned as he ate more lambchop.

“Do tell us about your mother, Anakin.” Palpatine said with a smile, “Contrary to popular belief, I am quite curious what your life in the muggle world was like.”

“Oh, I lived a pretty regular life.” Though Anakin realized not a single wizard at this table really knew what that entailed for him, “My mum is a waitress and serves food to people.”

“We’re not stone aged, we know what waitresses are.” Ventress sneered.

“They don’t use magic to deliver food.” Anakin said, “So it’s a lot harder and they have to balance everything on this big tray. She works for this creep named Watto, who never gives her any holidays off or anything like that.”

“That’s awful.” Bail Organa, the sole representative from Hufflepuff house, said.

“Sounds like slavery to me.” Cody murmured.

“But she makes decent money.” He said, “Keeps a roof over our head and food in our stomach.”

“Who would have thought the bar was so low?” Miraj sighed.

Anakin ignored that and went on, “One thing muggles definitely have over wizards is television, because I’ve grown up watching a good deal of that. There’s all these fictional programs both animated and live-action and they act out stories.”

“Like in a play.” Obi-Wan said, utterly transfixed, “I’ve heard of it before, but I’ve never actually watched. Is it occurring live or is it pre-recorded?”

“Both!” Anakin chirped, “Reality TV is crazy and super weird. My mum says that’s staged too, but I don’t know if you can make some of that stuff up. I used to think the TV could hear me, but there are writers that make up the plots and stuff before they film.”

“And how does one operate such a device?” Tarkin asked.

“Oh, by electricity and stuff!”

“Electricity.” Cody said reverently, “We’ve actually got some of that in my house now.”

“No kidding?” Obi-Wan turned to Cody.

“For light bulbs and stuff. Ninety-Nine managed to figure out.”

“Well, he’s got not much else to do.” Snickered Faro Argyus, who had accompanied Ventress as her date.

“What did you say?” Gritted Cody as he placed firm hands to the table.

“Oh, nothing, just that he isn’t in school is all.” Faro’s smile feigned innocence, but had a shit-eating quality that made Anakin’s skin crawl. The fact that he chose now to join the discourse was a very poor decision on his end. Cody, meanwhile, looked like a blood vessel might burst in his head.

“If you’ve got something to say, spit it out. Just a warning that you might be spitting out some teeth too, if you say the wrong thing, mate.” Cody said tightly.

Everyone looked to Faro, who just snapped his trap shut like the coward he was and leaned back in his chair. Palpatine gave him a disapproving look before sighing.

“Please maintain decorum. This is meant to be a celebration, not a brawl.”

“Tell that to pretty boy.” Cody argued.

“I do not want to have to remove any points this evening, especially not from two guests.” Palpatine said it like he was reminding them that they didn’t need to be there. They were merely courtesies to Obi-Wan and Ventress.

“Don’t be a fool, Faro.” Ventress said, “We all know everyone’s capable in their own way.”

“Right you are, Ventress.” Palpatine smiled.

“For instance, Skywalker’s mum can screw more than just a lightbulb.” She fluttered her icy glare to Anakin, “Obviously.”

Anakin only remembered grabbing a fistful of bean dip before seeing nothing but white.

***  

After finally calming the calamity of flying food that ensued shortly after Anakin had made the first decisive throw, Professor Palpatine had deemed that the night was to be put to an abrupt end since it seemed most of them could not behave like civilized adults. This was fine with Obi-Wan, who hadn’t bothered to remove points from Anakin for starting the whole fight. After all, Ventress truly had something coming to her for speaking so far out of turn for no reason other than to be cruel.

Palpatine dismissed each of them except for Anakin, presumably to receive a firm talking to based on how impulsively he’d acted. Obi-Wan hoped he wasn’t too hard on him. It wasn’t like it hadn’t been deserved.

But that wasn’t how things worked at Hogwarts or in the real world, as his parents had been sure to teach him. Life wasn’t always fair and sometimes the wrong person got blamed simply for not being able to control themselves. It was why the aspect of controlling his emotions was always so important to them.

And for the most part, he thought he was quite good at it.

He still hadn’t been able to resist countering Palpatine’s charitable view of himself when it came to his invitees- not when there was a glaring omission. It wasn’t like Obi-Wan was particularly close with Palpatine. His parents might have been in their day, so he supposed there was a favor to be had there (one that likely would not be handed to him next year).

Guilt nagged at him as he considered the lack of empathy that dripped in Tarkin, Miraj, and Faro’s voices as they talked about the muggles or even Anakin’s situation. Even more so was it disturbing that Obi-Wan had clearly shielded himself from seeing just how clearly people were opposed to the other side of living. He didn’t get it, truly. Why did it matter? It wasn’t like muggles were exactly hunting them out. They would have a clear disadvantage if they were.

But maybe that was his own biases talking. Satine had gone on to tell him in excessive detail over the years about the various enhancements in modern technology that placed muggles far ahead of wizards. Maybe that’s what scared so many at the Ministry.

Still, Obi-Wan knew it wasn’t right. He saw the way Anakin looked so small under their questioning and he cringed at being unable to protect him completely from the scrutiny that would surely follow the boy. It certainly didn’t help his case that his father wasn’t involved. Wizards would grasp onto that for something to point to for certain, as if there weren’t plenty of wizard or witch deadbeats in their era.

His dress shoes clicked across the stone floor towards the library almost mindlessly. He knew he wouldn’t rest well if he didn’t express a true sentiment of apology. In a way, he was glad Satine wasn’t there. She didn’t deserve to be exposed to that sort of thinking. She could handle herself, of course, and while he was often beguiled by her, it had been obvious that she was upset by his manner of asking.

It wasn’t very proper of him, thinking back. His parents would have been very disappointed in how he’d gone about it if it were someone else.

So, he smiled at Jocasta Nu as he stuck his hands in his pockets and prepared himself to approach Satine with his tail between his legs. He couldn’t help but smile to himself about the fact that she was so often ahead of him and was likely expecting an appearance any second from now.

“Oh, Mr. Kenobi?” Jocasta Nu’s kind voice cut him off before he could get too far.

“Yes, Madame Nu?” He asked.

“You’re… Er, you’ve got some potatoes in your hair, dear.”

Obi-Wan frowned and turned his eyes up, noticing that his hair, while in disarray, was also coated in a white fluffy substance. He groaned as he reached up and grabbed a sample of it.

“That explains why Zeb asked me if I’m saving food for later, now doesn’t it?” He laughed half-heartedly. He glanced down towards his usual aisle and sighed. It seemed he would not only be giving Satine an apology, but something to tease him about for a very long time. At least that would make it a lot easier to accept his apology.

He tried to pick what he could from his hair and frowned even deeper at the realization that his clothes were covered in random splotches of food substance as well. He would certainly need to perform some cleaning and ironing spells on these later to get the stains out.

He was just about to vocalize a pun about wearing his dinner when he stopped dead in his tracks at the familiar sound of Satine’s laugh. Unless she was reading a particularly humorous tome, which he doubted, she wasn’t alone. As he slowly crept down the aisle and remained careful to be eclipsed by the bookcases around him, he peered around the corner to see none other than Fenn Rau sitting across from her.

Obi-Wan wasn’t sure why it suddenly felt like he’d eaten something bad at the dinner party, but it certainly wasn’t settling well. Rau was sitting in Obi-Wan’s usual seat, which bore a greater sense of unease in his chest as they chatted excitedly about what appeared to be the ridiculousness of wizarding politics.

It seemed Rau had found his in.

If Satine didn’t seem to appreciate the present company, Obi-Wan surely would have made his presence known and a small part of him- the part that made his teeth bite down on his tongue incredibly hard- still wanted to. For what? It felt strangely similar to the analogy of a pissing contest at the core and he didn’t know why he would be so eager to butt his way into their conversation.

It certainly wasn’t the way Satine’s laugh lit up the room or how Rau seemed to relish in just being in her mere presence. It absolutely was not that he’d beat him here or sat in his seat. It wasn’t like the guilt that once pooled in his sternum was now slipping into regret, as it so often easily could.

No, not at all.

As Rau talked about how passionate his wizard-father was about activism and his mother was practically an environmentalist, Obi-Wan suddenly felt like he didn’t belong here at all. It was as though he’d fallen so far behind on a race he never intended on running and to his perspective, could not catch up.

Did he want to?

He shook his head. Since she was happy and clearly not sulking over not attending Palpatine’s disastrous dinner party, he supposed he would just catch her at a different time.

***

Anakin didn’t quite remember lashing out at Asajj Ventress, but everyone, including Miraj, looked at him with a decent dose of apprehension. It was a stark reminder of what it felt like to be the freak last year. He didn’t like it, but it was sobering.

What worried him most was how Palpatine would react to his reaction. He wasn’t sure how anyone in their right mind could possibly allow Ventress off the hook for what she’d said. Even Obi-Wan hadn’t provided some lecture about how he could control his own actions and not the words of others. Instead, his mentor tried to quietly guide him out of the room to cool off. Instead, Palpatine had stopped him to have a chat.

The music had abruptly stopped, though Anakin had been so busy trying to garner some form of revenge on Ventress for what she said to notice. Everyone else had completely wrecked the place with scraps of food. Those finger bowls had truly been terribly placed and more of a mess in the end. Anakin, like everything else around the room, was covered in the five course meal.

It was at least a little good to know that wizards couldn’t resist a good food fight either.

He wondered when Palpatine was going to speak. He looked around the room in disappointment before raising his wand just above his head.

“Tersus Sursum!” He dashed his wand in an arched movement and before Anakin’s eyes, a mop and broom came flying out of the cupboard and got to work. A rag wiped down the walls where stray splatter had gathered. Even the ceiling was being tended to, which neither of them could have possibly reached if they wanted. Dishes raised themselves in the air and started to move to an already running sink. Palpatine didn’t even have to focus on them to continue their routine.

Anakin, despite likely being in massive trouble, couldn’t help but yearn for such a trick when he had to do chores at home. Still, if he wasn’t going to make Anakin clean the place, he wondered what punishment would seem fit.

“I apologize for the mess, Professor.” Anakin said quietly.

The only thing Palpatine took the time to clean for himself was a strange contraption that sat across his mantle. It was a little wooden prism that had to be a paperweight, that Palpatine touched only with the washcloth in hand before setting it back down.

“What Ventress said upset you.” He said instead.

Anakin frowned, “Well, yeah. Where I’m from, you don’t disrespect someone’s mum like that.”

“Indeed, mothers are often a soft spot,” He folded his hands behind his back, facing the darkness of his room as the cleaning tools worked on their own accord, “You do not need to apologize, Anakin.”

This surprised Anakin even more, “Really?”

If Windu had it his way, Anakin likely would have been writing a 5000 word essay on why throwing potatoes at a girl was worthy of the death penalty… Or something along those lines.

“Something was done wrong by you and you evened the score.” He said and finally turned back to face the light, a small smile on his lips, “You really should not fear your anger, my boy. It is only healthy to explore it, to understand it, to become the kind of powerful wizard you wish to be one day.”

“Thank you, Professor,” Anakin said.

“But of course, my dear boy.” Palpatine smiled, “If I could make a recommendation, it’s that next time you wish to get back at Ventress, please ruin your own drapes.”

He chuckled, “Yes sir.”

Through the fog of relief and surprise that was overcoming his senses, Anakin finally remembered his purpose for truly attending the banquet. It had been hard in the midst of the chaos that he’d brought and was even more difficult to fathom when Palpatine was being so understanding.

He stopped in his tracks, which had obviously caught Palpatine’s attention.

“Is everything alright, Anakin?”

“Yeah, I just… I wanted to say I’m glad you’ve chosen to take me under your wing…” Anakin lingered in the doorway. “Any student would be lucky. Pureblood or half-blood or not.”

“It matters not to me what you are, Anakin.” Palpatine said, “I believe you will go on to do great things. I’ve believed that before we discovered your prophecy, have I not?”

Anakin nodded, “You have… But what was it about me that made you believe I was special?”

“I’m older than you can imagine, I’m sure.” He laughed a bit to himself, “One develops a knack for it after all these years.”

“Did you see something in Maul?” It wasn’t as discrete as he’d hoped to be, especially based on the way the smile flickered on Palpatine’s face before he shook his head numerous times in curious denial.

“Maul was a very troubled boy.” He shivered, “Quite troubled, indeed. A very different situation than you. I wanted to help him, whereas I believe one day, you will help me and the rest of the wizarding community.”

Anakin swallowed, “So, you weren’t close?”

“I mentored him as best I could,” He said sympathetically, “He used to live in that Shrieking Shack during the summers. He had nowhere else to go. I only wanted to help him. Opened up my office to him at any time, because I did see power in him. It was a dangerous sort, of course, so I knew I had to limit him in what he could learn. There were certain spells and paths to darkness that while someone like myself could merely study from an objective perspective, Maul could use for real damage.”

“What happened to him?” He asked.

“He…” Palpatine sighed, “He lost control one day. A young Twi’lek girl named Eldra Kaitis was found impaled by none other than Maul’s dagger.”

Could it have been the same dagger found in the parcel Maul sent him?

Anakin gasped, “But… Why?”

“I asked myself that very question.” He said as he walked over to the window to look outside, “And the only answer that allows me to properly sleep at night is knowing that there was no helping him. There are people who choose darkness, Anakin. Those people can grow to be strong and wise in their own right. Look at Dooku, for instance. While evil, of course, he still maintains his sanity and decorum. Maul, on the other hand, was born of it. And there is no use trying to sustain it.”

He swallowed, “You must have taken that quite hard.”

“Oh, I did.” He said, “It was my greatest failure to date.”

Anakin shook his head, “I’m sorry to bring this up, Professor. I’m sure it upsets you talking about it. I’ve just been trying to find out why Maul would ever want to come for me. It’s not like I’ve ever done anything to him.”

“Well, we are turning up on the anniversary of his first kill.” Palpatine said, “And in many ways, I believe Maul fancies himself set up.”

“By who?” Anakin frowned, “He did it himself.”

“And admitted to it.” He said gravely, “We can’t really trust the tongue of a mad-man, though, can we?”

“No,” Anakin said, “We can’t.”

After he’d turned to leave and bid Palpatine goodnight, the old man waited a long moment, choosing to retain the sullen and sympathetic mask he wore so well, before curling his wrinkled lips into a devious smile.

“Sending the boy to spy… Well played, Professor Qui-Gon.”

***

“You were right…” The apprentice said to the flames that crackled softly in Slytherin house. Not a single soul dared to be awake after the embarrassment they’d just been through. The luminescence of the green fire felt like a reflection of her soul.

“Good…” A hushed voice responded. “You know what you need to do.”

“Yes.” They said, eyes practically glowing in anticipation for what was to come next. “So, long as that monster Maul doesn’t get in our way.”

“I’m sure he’ll be taken care of.” Dooku’s sly grin could send chills even so close to the hot flames.

“How can you be so sure?” They asked.

“He has a bone to pick with my master,” Dooku said, “The inadequate brute is never wise enough to know his limits. He believes he has none.”

“I see,” They said, “And what of me?”

“Do you have the sword?” His deep voice rumbled in his throat.

“I do.”

“Oh, there will be plenty more where that comes from,” He said. “Plenty more indeed. I will see you over break so we can reconvene.”

***

Satine yawned as she finally made her way up the spiral staircase and into the Ravenclaw common room. She’d been intent on going straight to bed, but was stopped immediately by a very disheveled-looking Obi-Wan as he practically launched up from his spot on the couch, where he’d obviously been waiting for her.

“You’re back.” He said and it was immediately apparent that something was off with him.

For one thing, he looked like he’d just paced back and forth enough times to accumulate the steps for a full marathon. His face was red and he looked quite anxious over seeing her. It was clear he had been waiting for her though.

Another, was that he was covered in food.

She’d almost forgotten how cross she was with him when she saw how silly he truly looked. She moved to pick a piece of lettuce that was stuck to the collar of his shirt. “Did you happen to get into a fight with a blender this evening?”

“I won’t even start with you on asking what that is,” He said, “I just wanted to have a word with you regarding this evening.”

She closed her eyes and sighed, “And here I wanted to go to bed without an argument beforehand.”

“I’ll keep it brief, I swear.” He was so earnest, even with what looked to be potatoes that coated his hair to droop into his face.

“Alright,” She crossed her arms like she wasn’t about to listen to him anyway. She still wanted some clarification on why he looked like such a mess.

“You deserved to be asked out tonight on a proper date.” Obi-Wan said and Satine suddenly felt like the air in her lungs had been replaced with jelly by some cruel spell and he didn’t stop there, “In a way that made you feel like the beautiful person that you are… With the person you fancy.”

“I- Er- Uh”

“Anything intelligent would be good right now, thank you, Kryze.”

Luckily, he showed no signs of noticing the way her brain stopped producing normal and coherent thoughts.

“And more than anything, I want you to be happy.” He insisted, almost like he was convincing himself and he took her hands in his, “Trust me when I say you weren’t missing much tonight, aside from possibly seeing me get my face dunked in a pie…”

She felt laughter bubble up at that and was relieved for it, because she thought she might pass out soon if she didn’t have the excuse for a dramatic inhale of breath. Her cheeks might pop by how hard she must have been smiling.

His smile was radiant and nervous as he said, “But I promise you… This person you fancy… Feels the same way back.”

It was quite possible the angels were singing and a warm glow of sunshine prematurely hung over them in that moment. Her eyes flickered to his mouth as she stepped closer to him. She’d never seen someone look handsome while covered in casserole, but Obi-Wan Kenobi was an enigma in and of itself.

“Oh, does he?” She was finally able to say and could have patted herself on the back right then and there for not making it sound like a little chipmunk squeak. It definitely ran the risk of doing so by how little oxygen her brain was getting right now.

“He does.” His mouth twitched and if she wasn’t so busy buzzing off the shock that rattled through her from how unexpected this confession was, she would have thought he looked a bit green. Then again, he was never great with handling his feelings.

“Is he going to do anything about it?” She asked after a long beat of Obi-Wan searching her face with his calculating eyes.

“I don’t know, why don’t you ask him?” He said, “I think he’s probably a bit intimidated.”

“There’s absolutely no reason for that.” She said, “He can tell me anything.”

“Yes, well, I’m glad for that.” Obi-Wan said, “You should tell him.”

“Alright then,” She took a deep breath and squeezed his hands in an attempt to both center her courage and tamper down the butterflies in her stomach, “Ben, I-”

“Oh, Satine, you forgot your quill in the library!” Fenn Rau trotted up the stairs behind her and she swore, pacifism be damned, that she almost shoved him backwards. They shared a laugh or two this evening, but had drawled on and on to the point where her eyes felt they might droop shut earlier. On top of that, he did have the awful tendency to pop up at the worst of times.

“Ah, Rau, brilliant.” Obi-Wan didn’t seem as enthusiastic as his words tried to make him out to be, “Satine wanted to talk to you about something.”

Satine shot back around to Obi-Wan, eyes wide in shock, “I what?”

“You know, what we were just discussing.” He said, “Literally three seconds-”

“-I wasn’t- You weren’t- He is not-” And just like that, Satine’s brain stuttered back into the present and realized what had unfortunately been going on.

“Are you alright?” Poor Rau, who never asked for any of this, was looking at Satine like she was having a stroke. Then again, she very well might be.

“She was fine a moment ago.” Obi-Wan placed a warm hand on Satine’s arm, which would normally be a very comforting gesture. Except right now, it felt sweltering under the circumstances.

Where there had once been the sweet and soft sensation of what she’d hoped to be verbalized mutual affection, there was now the fervid storm that was just how stupid they both were at the same time.

Him, for failing to use that brilliant mind of his for anything outside of reading a book and her for ever believing that it would be that easy.

“What is it?” Fenn asked.

She knew that because of Obi-Wan’s idiocy, she had to say something, but she was having a difficult time wrapping her head around anything except for the fact that after all of this time, Obi-Wan was under the impression that she fancied Fenn Rau somehow.

“I’d like to switch patrol times.” She spat, “I fear if I have to look at him in the morning I might just turn him sunny-side up.”

“Er… Alright.” Fenn said slowly, but likely more because he was a bit nervous to say anything else. Because one boy in this room had to have a little bit of sense, he slithered away from them to finish whatever was obviously going on. She only wished Obi-Wan exercised that sort of intuition every once in a while.

After the door shut behind him, Obi-Wan turned to her with a frown.

“What was that?”

She pointed a finger at him, anger spewing out every which way, “That was you being an absolute moron!”

“Satine!” He called after her as she shoved past him towards the staircase, “I was only trying to help you get a bloody date!”

“I didn’t want a bloody date!” She fired back, venom pumping heavily through her veins. Oh, if only softer words came as easily, “I wanted you to stop being a fool and it seems that is a lost cause of a wish, now isn’t it?”

“I resent that!” He countered, “You’re the one who’s been snapping off at me like I’m supposed to be a mind-reader! I saw the two of you together and I know he likes you. What else was I to think?”

“That if I were ever given the choice between you and anyone else in the entire cosmic universe, I would always always choose you. Even when you’re being positively ridiculous and have unsavory food in your hair and on your clothes. There’s not even a competition as far as I’m concerned. I just want you to know that.”

“That I shouldn’t have to spell everything out for you!” She argued, “That he’s not my type, I don’t know! You’re just supposed to know! Not pawn me off to the first person that expresses interest.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.” He said with a lot less fire than before, “I’m sorry.”

She sighed through her nose, finding it difficult to be mad at him when he was looking up at her with sad eyes like that. “It’s alright.”

He slowly traversed up the steps to meet her and then stand over her in height, “I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

“I know.” She said quietly. “Did you want it to be him?”

“Heavens, no.” He blurted out and then coughed, “I’m not sure who I would have liked it to be, though.”

She almost wanted to shake him to get him to process that thought just a little more and he reached out and hesitantly took her hand, “But whoever he is, he’s quite lucky.”

“You’re still an idiot.” She said, meaning it quite thoroughly.

“I know.” He said just as gently, “But I’d like to think I’m your idiot.”

Yes, indeed. And Satine was too for her treasonous heart’s increase in pace at his quiet words. They hadn’t been the ones she’d wanted, but they would do.

***

Cody shoved his things into his duffle bag. He never necessitated bringing that much home for Christmas break. He didn’t see why he would need to. He had some winter clothes at home and most of what he would be doing consisted of playing outside anyway. Underwear, socks, toiletries, and his winter outerwear would more than do.

And of course, all of his Quidditch stuff, which admittedly tended to provide a bit of weight, much to the prefects’ verbal complaints when they got stuck with luggage duty. Another large part of his exit duties was to ensure his brothers were ready to go. His father would have his head if he didn’t make sure the other boys were well-prepared.

The twins were mostly attune to this routine by now and despite their tendencies of playing around, knew better than to test the formidable stoicism of Jango Fett. It wasn’t like Rex was keen on being a bugger, but he was still a little guy and often unprepared for leaving, no matter how many times Cody asked him if he’d started packing.

“Why do you get to pack last minute and I don’t?” He complained.

“Because I’ve got it down to a science and you forgot to bring socks home last year,” Cody said plainly, “You’re lucky we all had hand-me-downs ready to go.”

In all fairness, growing up the youngest of seven likely resulted in Rex never being short on hand-me-downs.

“We’re wizards, I could have just washed them.” He said.

“Muggles can wash their clothes too, mate.”

“Don’t act like you know how.” He complained as he dejectedly sat back on his bunk. Cody had already inspected his littlest brother’s bag and approved that he’d packed everything necessary, but his forlorn expression was towards the already made up bunk across from him.

Rex was still quite cross about his falling out with Skywalker, of which the boy absolutely refused to budge on speaking about. He claimed he was fine and better off without him, but Cody caught him more than once pulling out the issues of comic books that Anakin had given him the previous year.

A couple weeks off would do the boy some good, clear his head and all that. Cody, meanwhile, was just looking forward to having time outside of classes to scramble up a strategy for the back half of the year. So, their team hadn't gotten off on the show stopping start that he’d wished for them. A little bit of stakes was good for any team. They were very much still in the game and so long as Maul or any creepy possessions didn’t cancel the season, they had nothing to fear.

“Alright, well, I’m heading down to the train. Are you coming?” He asked.

“Yeah, I’m coming. I’ll wait for the twins.”

“Right, well don’t wait up,” Cody snorted as he looked over to Echo and Fives as they were debating which pranks from Zonko’s to bring home and more importantly, which to unleash on their older brothers first.

“I’ll keep an eye on them,” Rex puffed out his chest.

“Good man,” Cody smiled.

The boy needed some more confidence and Cody learned by now that it was no good in taking him down right now, even in a joking matter.

He clapped the shoulders of a few of his teammates on his way down and out the Gryffindor common room, his trunks floating aimlessly behind him as he went. Many other students did the same as he entered the chaos that was the hallway outside of Gryffindor’s entrance. Prefects led and escorted younger students, reminding them to also bring the necessities home.

He perked up when he caught a glimpse of Kenobi’s pristine head, who was just finishing a side conversation with Bail Organa. It seemed the two were trading notes of some kind.

“What’d you get stuck with this time?” He asked.

Kenobi sighed and looked down to his clipboard, “I’m to count heads once aboard the train.”

“Right on, you’ll be along soon then.” He said.

“Hopefully,” He shrugged, “Everyone’s running around like it’s a madhouse today. Not sure why everything feels different.” He leaned in, “Between you and me, I awoke with a horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach.”

Cody snorted, “Probably lingering food poisoning from that rich food from the banquet.”

“I mean it, Cody,” He said seriously, “Bail said no one in his house slept very well last night.”

Cody scratched the back of his neck, “Well, that’s pretty unusual for the Hufflepuffs. What do they have to worry about? Not like they’re concerned about winning the House Cup.”

“It’s just uneasy that all of the students will be free from Hogwarts protective barriers for the first time since Maul released himself.” He sighed heavily, clearly trying to convince himself, “That’s all.”

“Yeah, well, I reckon Maul is trying to hide deep in the mountains or something, away from people that are going to catch him,” Cody waved him off, “You just need some fresh air.”

“You look green,” Fenn Rau approached them unannounced and while Cody didn’t have nearly the same level of beef with the fifth year, he also didn’t appreciate his unprecedented arrivals in the middle of private conversations.

“Thanks,” Kenobi frowned.

“Satine must have really let you have it last night, huh?” He smirked, which made Kenobi look like he would take great pleasure in smacking the smugness from his face. Kenobi was a great deal more cordial than Cody, though.

Unfortunately, Cody was merely just flabbergasted at what he could possibly be talking about.

“What happened last night?” Cody asked Kenobi, whose face went a shade pink.

“Just a bit of a misunderstanding,” He shrugged and Cody knew by now not to take his casual aplomb so literally.

“Oh, you should have seen it!” Rau laughed, “Satine looked like she wanted to mess him up! If she wasn’t so committed to her stance against any form of violence, I’d say she would have! Prefect status be damned!”

Wow, that must have been quite the fight for them to be so caught up that they didn’t stop on Rau’s behalf. Cody would need details later.

“I’ll have you know, everything is perfectly fine. Don’t you worry,” Kenobi said tightly and looked back down to his clipboard, “Don’t you have guard duty with Zeb?”

Rau blew a breath out through his nose, “Yeah, I just hope he doesn’t still have such awful gas. I don’t know who thought it fit to give him leftovers, but it was cruel.”

When Kenobi smiled a bit at the fifth year Ravenclaw’s departure, Cody nearly fell over in a fit of laughter.

“Maybe you should have been a Slytherin!” He smacked his arm.

Kenobi fully broke his pristine facade for a moment, offering him a grin, “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”

***

“Need help with that?” Professor Fisto asked as Anakin struggled to drag his suitcase behind him. Normally, his stuff wouldn’t be so heavy, but Cody had insisted they practice over break and that meant bringing equipment home. His mother was going to kill him when this weighed down the trunk of her car.

“Yes sir,” He nodded eagerly as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor easily plucked the bag up and carried it by the handle. They walked in tandem down the winding path that led them towards the Hogsmeade station. A few giggling girls were not far behind them, likely not in awe of Anakin.

He looked up at the aquatic professor in scrutinization. He was, no doubt, a great professor and taught them more dueling tactics than Anakin could count, but he really didn’t see why they all drooled over him.

“Where do you live?” He asked.

“I’m from the coast.” Professor Fisto smiled, “I do look forward to dipping my toes in some real water.”

“Do you live underwater?” He supposed a lake didn’t count, but then again, Anakin did prefer swimming in the ocean.

“People like me kind of have to,” He smiled, “Aside from wizarding settlements, muggles might have some questions when looking at me unless I’m in disguise.”

“Living in disguise would be pretty hard,” Anakin nodded, “I don’t get why everything needs to be so divided.”

“Blood-torn history,” When he shook his head, his long green tentacles wiggled and shifted on their own accord, “I hope that someday we can find mutual peace. I don’t think I’m alone in that hope either.”

“You want peace?” He raised an eyebrow, “But you’re the one who started the dueling club!”

“To teach you to protect yourself,” Kit Fisto said, “I’d prefer diplomatic negotiations towards a fight any day, but that isn’t how the world works right now. They say you’re going to be the one to set it right.”

“I don’t see how,” Anakin admitted. Talking to Kit Fisto was surprisingly easy, considering they didn’t know each other that well outside of class. Anakin had a good grade in DADA and was top of his tier in the dueling club and up until now, that seemed more than enough.

“You’ll have help,” Fisto nodded, “Everyone needs it.”

“Even bad guys?” He asked.

“Bad guys think they don’t need help, which is part of their weaknesses that can be exploited.”

“Some people think Maul had help back in the day, but I don’t know much about that,” Anakin shrugged and glanced towards the Shrieking Shack. It had a different connotation now that he understood it was Maul who committed that awful murder there that Rex had referenced previously.

“Maybe he did, but he’s on his own now,” Fisto shrugged, “Evil, like the Sith, don’t flourish with teamwork. They always get too big for their britches in my experience. That’s why grouping together to fight is the best laid plan we could have. To combat an evil like Maul, for instance, it’s going to take an army.”

Anakin hoped that’s all it took.

***

Winter break had crept up on her this year. With the dementors still lurking on the premises and the threat of Maul and Dooku looming over them, the holidays just didn’t feel the same. Satine had been tasked with roll call of every fourth year and Obi-Wan, who was working beside her, was in charge of the fifth years. They worked steadily beside one another until every single student had been boarded onto the Hogwarts express.

“I’m only missing Rau,” He tilted his head, scrutinizing his list, “He should still be with Zeb guarding the first car.”

“I’m missing someone...” Satine was running through her list again, double, triple checking before she raised her hand waving over Professor Qui-Gon who looked at her very concerned to have been needed, “Bultar Swan’s not here,” She handed her list to their professor who frowned.

“Obi-Wan?” He asked, tucking her list under his arm, “Are you finished?” He nodded and handed over his as well, “Alright, the two of you need to get on the train, I’ll check this out.”

He waved them off. Obi-Wan watched him walk away with a glimmer of sadness in his eyes, but when Satine touched his shoulder, he shook her off with a smile.

“After you,” He bowed at her gesturing for her to get on the train which she did happily.

“Such a gentleman,” She joked, leading them towards their usual cabin.

Things were much more strict this year, that much she could tell as she settled into her seat across from Cody. The train wouldn’t leave until everyone was accounted for, which perhaps made more sense than just making everyone who missed the train stay at school for the holidays. They weren’t allowing many students to stay this year, only those who made a case to the Headmaster himself, which were few and far between. She supposed the threat was just too big.

“You’re going to Qui-Gon’s ‘unofficial’ holiday party aren’t you?” Obi-Wan’s voice shook her out of her thoughts and she turned to look at him. Why was he asking her that? Did that mean he wanted to see her? She mentally chastised herself. Of course he’d want to see her, and Cody. Anything was likely better than spending more time in that house of his, though the thought did make her heart hurt.

“I am,” She confirmed, “Are you?”

He nodded, “I’ll find a way.”

“Cody?” She broke away from staring into Obi-Wan’s grey-blue eyes that always looked just a little melancholic when they sat together on the train.

“Of course!” He perked up, “Free food and a party! The Fett boys love a good time.”

They were interrupted by Professor Kit Fisto, who popped his head into his compartment, marked them down on his list and then with an apologetic smile closed their door. He needn’t explain, Yoda had warned them that morning that there was to be no moving about the train, their doors were magically locked and would only open in an emergency. In little time at all, the train whistle blew and she felt the lurch as it pulled out of the station. Her thoughts felt lighter as she realized they must have found the elusive Bultar Swan. She had likely just slipped through Satine’s fingers.

***

“Send the train,” Windu had instructed even over Qui-Gon’s rather loud objection.

“Mace we’re still missing a fourth year-” He had called, but once the train started there was really no stopping it.

“We’ll find her,” Windu nodded towards the castle, “We can take her home through the Floo Network, but there’s no use halting the train any longer for one student,” Qui-Gon didn’t look like he much agreed, but he could do nothing else to protest so instead he just looked down at Satine’s careful handwriting.

“Well, let’s get a move on then,” Qui-Gon turned towards Hogsmeade, they had a bit of a walk back to the castle gates. A walk that Windu spent searching for any traces of a possible kidnapping. He doubted Ms. Swan was valuable to the likes of Dooku or Maul, but then again, he was hardly sure what they wanted with Mr. Skywalker. Prophecy or not they chose quite a handful of a student to go after.

He found nothing amiss, not even a broken stick, by the time they entered into the castle, the large doors slamming shut behind them. Wordlessly both he and Qui-Gon took out their wands and latched the door shut. There would be no need to open them again any time soon.

“Headmaster Yoda,” Qui-Gon greeted and sure enough when Mace turned around he was greeted with the sight of his old friend. Yoda hadn’t been standing there before and never moved very quickly, yet always seemed to appear places where Mace felt he should have heard him coming. If apparition wasn’t forbidden in the school, he would have blamed such a feat on that.

“Back so soon, you are?” He questioned and Qui-Gon frowned.

“We’re missing a student,” Qui-Gon seemed not to know when such things should be kept on the down low. Mace crossed his arms already looking to see if anyone had overheard. Yoda frowned, a grave sort of expression crossing his face.

“Find this student, we will.”

Mace knew that Yoda was under immense outside pressure. The Kenobi’s had of course let their anger with the Headmaster show at the conferences, but they weren’t the only family to express several grievances and concerns.

“We will,” Mace repeated as he nodded to both the Headmaster and Qui-Gon before turning and heading off to check the dungeons.

Qui-Gon would check the Ravenclaw common room and the Headmaster would likely check amongst the students. Mace had to frown when he remembered that because of the tunnels, there was much more ground to cover and she could even be in another common room with her friends. With that thought in mind he paused in front of a rather unassuming wall.

Pressing his hand to the wall he muttered a quiet, “Sneezewort,” before the wall practically sucked him inside. It was an unwelcome feeling and he wasn’t sure how the Slytherin’s had become immune to the way the stones scraped against their skin as they phased through. Perhaps they hadn’t.

The inside of the common room glowed green from the light filtering down through the lake's surface. He was greeted with a couple very confused looking Slytherins. A third year boy who had been watching a few of the aquatic residents swim around and a 7th year girl with a few books spread out before her. Both stared up at him as if they were waiting to get in trouble. When he did nothing, but march to check the boys dormitory, the girl stood up.

“What mysterious thing are you looking for now?” She huffed. Mace turned back towards her. She had her arms crossed and was looking up at him in annoyance, “You think we have Maul locked up down here or something?”

He shouldn’t be so surprised, of course the students were on edge, especially the older students. School hadn’t been as chaotic and dangerous before last year, certainly the extra stress was getting to the older students, especially the seventh years trying to take their NEWT exams.

“I’m looking for a student,” Mace decided not to give her the full details, lest Ms. Swan was trying to hide from them, “Would you check the girls' dormitories for me?” The seventh year straightened, she looked appreciative to have been given such a task. With a nod she hurried up the stairs.

Neither of them ended up finding anyone else and Mace left their common room without another word. The rest of the dungeons were just as boring as they usually were. He barely even looked in Palpatine’s office, there certainly seemed no where for anyone to hide in there unless they curled up under the desk or managed to fit in the chest in the corner.

As he ascended the stairs, of course he nearly ran right into a first year Ravenclaw girl who looked particularly upset. She looked surprised to see him, looking up at him with the wide eyes of a child before she stuck a finger out, pointing towards the far end of the school.

“The Headmaster and Professor Qui-Gon are looking for you,” She let him know with a head nod, “No one can enter Ravenclaw tower.”

***

The train hissed into the station and students piled out chatting amicably with one another. Despite the rather dangerous nature that the year had begun with, the holidays seemed to have lifted spirits well enough. Or perhaps, Anakin considered, it was once again being with your family.

Anakin felt a little out of place just standing in a sea of students trying to stand on his tippy toes to see over their heads. He managed to pick out Hevy in the crowd, and his heart panged. Rex was still rather angry with him, Anakin hadn’t sat with him on the train. He’d actually ended up stuck between Miraj Scintel and Asajj Ventress in a compartment full of Slytherins. It hadn’t been his favorite company to keep. Especially since none of them seemed particularly interested in the Christmas cartoons he was hoping to catch on TV.

He tripped and nearly fell into what seemed to be the eye of the storm. Students still pushed and shoved all around them, but all were avoiding this particular space.

“Oh Anakin,” He recognized the voice and sure enough when he looked up he was looking into the eyes of Obi-Wan’s mother. She was smiling down at him as if pleased he’d landed in her presence. Obi-Wan was standing a little behind her and although he was standing at attention his eyes seemed to hold a lecture that Anakin was grateful he couldn’t deliver at the moment, “How wonderful it is to see you.”

“It’s nice to see you again too, ma’am,” He nodded at her, but tried to look behind her for a hint of the woman he really wanted to see.

“Lost?” Obi-Wan’s mum looked concerned and even Obi-Wan opened his mouth to ask him, but Anakin shook his head.

“Nope! I’m just looking for my mum,” He assured them, “She said she’d pick me up at the station, but I wouldn’t put it past that sleazebag Watto to make her late.”

“Late for picking up her own son though,” Obi-Wan’s mother tsked as she looked at him, “Perhaps we could accompany you home?”

“Mother-” Obi-Wan didn’t seem to agree, but a glance from his mother was enough to get him to stand down it seemed.

“No that’s ok,” Anakin shook his head, “She’ll be here, I just have to be patient,” He grinned, “I’m sure Obi-Wan knows that’s not my best skill, but as the Chosen One, I’m sure I can handle it.”

His mentor seemed to disapprove of his joke, but it made Mrs. Kenobi laugh so he guessed it wasn’t too bad, “If you’re sure. We could always take you back to our place.”

“No thanks,” Anakin had to admit, the offer was tempting. He was curious to where Obi-Wan lived especially since his family had quite a bit of money, but he was far too eager to get back to his own abode, “Thanks for the broomstick by the way, it flies great!” He’d sent a thank you note already, but his mum always said doing things in person looked better.

“Glad to hear it-” She was likely going to continue their conversation, but Anakin caught a glimpse of wispy brown hair.

“I think I see her!” He pointed over the crowd, “Got to go, bye!”

He dipped and dodged through the crowd again before finally reaching her.

“Mum!” But the women who turned had a rounder face and deep green eyes. Anakin nearly tripped over his feet, as to not run into her, “Oh.”

That certainly wasn’t his mother.

***

Qui-Gon was pondering.

A difficult feat as the raven door knocker was spewing riddles faster than anyone could answer them. Such noise made it hard to think at all. Headmaster Yoda was doing little to help reign in control, he simply answered riddles that had been asked nearly 5 minutes prior. It wasn’t getting them anywhere.

“Mace,” Qui-Gon heard the other man’s footsteps before he saw him. Gryffindor’s Head of House seemed just as confused as he was.

“What’s all this?” Mace questioned inspecting the brass knocker before raising an eyebrow at Qui-Gon.

“I was hoping you would know,” He answered with a sigh, “It was like this when I got here. Must have been some kind of spell.”

Mace frowned, “Not one I know. It would have to be fairly powerful to break such an artifact,” That much Qui-Gon had already known.

“Do away with the door, we could,” Yoda suggested, but Qui-Gon jumped between the Headmaster’s wand and the door.

“There must be another way,” Qui-Gon grimaced, he really didn’t want to have to find a fair replacement for his house. Such lines of thinking reminded him of the tunnels. There weren’t any leading to Ravenclaw house of course, but tunnels were not the only way for wizards to get around, “The fireplace!” He shouted suddenly enough to scare off a stray Hufflepuff from the area.

“Are our fireplaces within the Floo network?” Mace questioned looking towards the Headmaster who shook his head.

“Officially, they are not,” He put a small hand to his chin, “However locally, hmmmm.”

“My office is closest,” Qui-Gon recommended and hurried off with Mace and the Headmaster following behind.

***

Mace had to admit, this was a rather clever idea. Qui-Gon was consistently proving himself as both a Ravenclaw and the best choice for their Head of House. Still the man was notoriously messy and Mace nearly tripped over a stack of philosophy books piled just high enough to not be noticeable at first. It was a far cry from Mace’s rather organized and clean office. Despite these barriers, Qui-Gon never seemed to lose anything. In fact he pulled his pot of Floo powder out from under a pillow as if it had always been there. Mace quite doubted that was the case.

Qui-Gon was about to thrust his hand into the powder when Mace held out his hand to stop him.

“Wait,” Mace gestured for the man to pass him the jar which he did with a rather skeptical look, “We don’t know if we’re going to be trapped on the inside and the school certainly can’t be down 3 caretakers,” Both Qui-Gon and Yoda exchanged hesitant looks. Mace was glad that he had been with them, if he hadn’t the other two may have gotten themselves trapped within the common room for hours before someone would have noticed.

“I’ll go,” Qui-Gon suggested, “It is my house after all.”

“Admirable,” Mace nodded, but refused to hand back the jar to Qui-Gon, “I have more experience however,” Qui-Gon gave him a foul look, Mace paid him no mind, “I’ll go, if the girl is there I’ll find her.”

“Wait on the other side of the door, I shall,” Headmaster Yoda decided with a nod, “Meet Professor Windu when he is done searching I will.”

“So what? I’m just supposed to wait here?” Qui-Gon frowned at Mace’s nod of affirmation, “And what is the point in that?”

“You never know,” Mace frowned, “Opening up a Floo network, even within the school could make us vulnerable for attack, someone should monitor it,” He wasn’t really sure if it would or not, but he felt they couldn’t be too safe. They’d already found a fatal flaw when Skywalker had been able to previously use Dooku’s fireplace to attempt traversing to Hogsmeade.

“Alright fine,” Qui-Gon relented, stepping aside, “We’ll do it your way, but do be swift, Ms. Swan may not even be up there.”

“I’m not the type to doddle, Jinn,” Mace reminded him as he stepped into the fireplace.

“Ravenclaw Common Room.”

The world bended and stretched. Qui-Gon’s office was replaced with bricks and entryways of several different choices, but thankfully the common room was a relatively short trip. If there hadn’t been for such odd circumstances, this would be considered a rather lazy move even by wizarding standards.

He stepped out of the fireplace and the blue and silver of the common room came into focus past the green of the fire and he looked around for anything out of place or odd. He fingered his wand, not eager to draw it, lest a student would be at the other end, but he certainly didn’t want to leave himself unguarded from attack. It was the sort of thinking one didn’t unlearn even after leaving the aurors.

Nothing so much as swayed in the breeze however so he let himself relax just a touch. He wasn’t in Ravenclaw’s common room much, but he knew which book to look for on the shelf to reveal the girl’s dormitory. He’d check there first as it was more likely that she had simply run up to grab something and gotten locked inside.

The bookshelf creaked softly as it bowed to the side to admit him. There was no one on the stairs and no one made an appearance even as he tried stepping loudly enough to give away his presence.

“Hello?” He called, his students should easily recognize his voice, they heard it at least twice a week.

There was no response. It felt almost too silent and his fingers brushed against his wand once more. Well if no one was around, it wouldn’t hurt to draw it. Pointing his wand low in case he did encounter a rogue student, he pushed the door open to the 4th year girl’s dorm slowly.

At the far side of the room, facing away from him was Bultar Swan, but she didn’t make any movements at his entry.

“Ms. Swan,” Mace called, stepping carefully across the room. Still she didn’t move so he put a gentle hand on her shoulder before rapidly pulling away.

It was a cool sensation rather than a warm one that had him ripping his hand away from the lost girl. Now that he was close enough he could see an unnatural sheen across her skin. As he walked around her his heart seemed to freeze just like the expression of shock and terror engraved on the girl’s face. Her eyes were wide and her mouth open like she was going to scream. Her hands were going for her wand, but she hadn’t made it in time. It seemed that neither had he.

***

The streets of London were rather busy as the sun lowered in the sky. It was likely rush hour and Anakin was just trying to get home. He’d let Artoo out to fly on his own, it was one less thing to carry and he already had his massive trunk he was dragging behind him.

He’d waited at the station until even the train had disappeared and he was starting to wish he’d taken the Kenobi’s up on their offer, even if Obi-Wan hadn’t seemed to like the idea. It would certainly beat carrying everything. He bet that a family like the Kenobi’s had a big broom or a lot of Floo powder. Or maybe they could have even apparated him there. He knew Obi-Wan was in a special class for it and he assumed nearly every witch or wizard got their license out of convenience.

If he hadn’t been in a fight with Rex he supposed the clones would have helped him out. They had lingered at the station for an awfully long time before finally departing. He thought he’d felt eyes on him, but every time he looked over they were busy wrestling with each other or talking too loudly. Anakin felt quite a lot of envy towards their antics. He missed Rex more than he’d admit.

At least he’d finally made it to his street. He could see the sign for Watto’s seedy pub and he would have made a run for it to show that greedy bastard where he could shove it the next time he made his mum work a shift when she had other, more important plans, but his luggage was holding him back. He pushed the door open and was greeted by the smell of stale booze and grease. It would have been pretty disgusting if it wasn’t a little nostalgic. As much as he despised the likes of Watto and the way his mum had to break her back just to afford the rent for their apartment, it was still home.

“Oh if it isn’t little Ani!” Watto crowed nearly knocking over one of his waitresses, “Tell your mum rent’s due.”

“When is it not due,” Anakin muttered under his breath before speaking loud enough for the owner to hear him over the din of patrons, “Have you seen her? She was supposed to come pick me up,” He made sure to say it in an accusatory tone even if such things were lost on the man.

“Eh, not today, grab the spare and go on up,” He shrugged, “Maybe she forgot.”

“Not likely,” Anakin whispered as he pushed past him. It was much more likely that she’d fallen asleep, Watto never had her working consistent hours and often she worked more than she was home. It wouldn’t be completely out of the question for her to have slept through an alarm. Still it was the first time she hadn’t shown up for him and he did feel a twinge of sadness at the thought.

Anakin snatched the spare key to their apartment off the pegboard in Watto’s smelly office before dragging his suitcase up the stairs. He had to use two hands since he couldn’t use magic and had no one else to help him. He was certain that if he had asked the owner he would have just gotten laughed at. He didn’t want his stupid help anyways.

He knocked on the door first, “Hello? Mum? It’s me! Anakin!” When there wasn’t any response, Anakin fumbled with the key until he felt the tumblers in the lock click. He pushed the door open and hesitated.

The air felt… stale.

Not eager to step inside, he called out again.

“Mum! You forgot to come to the train station! It’s okay though, I’m not mad!”

There was no response.

Anakin felt his throat tighten and his heart pick up. He pulled his wand out of his pocket, he wasn’t really supposed to use magic except for studying, but he doubted such rules would really stop him.

He took a deep breath before stepping inside. The door creaked shut behind him.

The first thing he noticed was their dining room chairs strewn across the floor. That was pretty weird because Anakin always got in trouble for not pushing them in when he was done. He rationalized that sometimes his mother got to do things he wasn’t allowed too, maybe she didn’t always have to replace the chairs. He stepped into the kitchen, nothing else seemed out of place, but when he opened the fridge he nearly vomited at the smell.

Sour milk.

His mother was always really good at getting fresh groceries, but maybe she’d just forgotten, it had happened once before.

“Mum! The milk’s gone bad!” He called again and strained his ears for an answer.

Silence.

He swallowed past a lump steadily growing in his throat. Was this some sort of joke? He hoped not, because it really wasn’t very funny.

There was nothing amiss in the living room, but also, no sign of his mum. He didn’t bother checking in his own room, as she was rarely in there. She always said she wasn’t very interested in his comics, but she was a good mum and listened to him talk about them anyways. He felt his eyes water, it must be a little dusty.

He knocked on his mother’s bedroom door, certainly not wanting to enter without notifying her; she always said it was always good to be polite. With no answer though he had no choice but to push the door open.

Feathers.

There were feathers everywhere. It was like the pillows had exploded and it coated the room. He stepped on inside and nearly tripped over a fallen book. That book only fell off the shelf when he opened the door too quickly. His mother knew that and he knew that, so why had it fallen?

Unless someone else was there. Had been there.

“If someone’s in here! Come out!” He managed to shout, clutching his wand like a lifeline and trying to think of a few dueling spells Professor Fisto had drilled into them. He supposed a good stupify would work. He’d have to explain it to the school, but it would save him and his mother.

Not so much as a feather moved and Anakin tried to calm his racing heart enough that he could hear something beyond the rushing of blood through his ears. He picked his way across the floor. What if his mother was here, but hurt? He certainly didn’t want to see that, but if she was, he would have to help her. Maybe he should have tried to learn some healing spells. He’d ask Madame Nema after this all got sorted out.

He peaked quickly over the side of her bed and was almost relieved when he saw nothing. He checked under the bed in case anyone was hiding under there, but saw nothing, but dust and feathers.

He walked over to check the bathroom and something crunched underfoot. Kneeling down he brushed aside a feather and gasped. A shattered frame, glass scattered across the floor. It was a picture of Anakin, standing proudly in his wizard’s robes. The picture didn’t move, but Anakin sure did- running out the door of his Mum’s bedroom and back into the living room.

She wasn’t here. There was no sign of her and the house didn’t look very lived in. All but the chairs and the bedroom with all the feathers. He felt like he was being watched and kept looking over his shoulder as he nearly shattered another picture frame reaching for the pot holding their small emergency Floo powder. He wanted to leave, but what if his mum did come home? She could walk in at any minute and they could be scared together about the possible house burglary. Still, that didn’t mean he wanted to be here alone.

Another thought came to him, he could call using the fireplace. Qui-Gon had taught him and he knew the offices at the castle were connected to the network. He just had to hope the Professor was in his office.

“Coniunctionem,” Anakin’s voice shook as he said the spell, sprinkling the powder into the fireplace. Flames sprung up where there hadn’t been any and Anakin blurted out, “Professor Qui-Gon Jinn's Office!” Before shoving his head into the fireplace.

Anakin nearly jumped when he saw Qui-Gon immediately, already staring into the fire in surprise.

“Anakin!” Words sounded weird through the fire, the tones of Qui-Gon’s voice being translated into crackles and pops of the fire.

“Qui-Gon!” He practically cried, “I need help!” He was the Chosen One, he’d been reminding himself of that all year and he shouldn’t need help. Here, however, he felt helpless, scared, and alone.

And Professor Fisto had just said that everyone needed help sometimes.

“What’s wrong?” The lecture likely on the tip of the Professor’s tongue disappeared instantly and concern took its place.

“It’s my mum! She’s-” He suddenly felt like he couldn’t speak, tears welling up in his eyes and threatening to pour over. He tried to hold them back not wanting to accidentally extinguish the fire, but it was hard. He hadn’t really even acknowledged the truth in the situation and trying to say it out loud felt horrible, “She’s-” He couldn’t say it, even needing Qui-Gon’s help, it was all too sudden.

“Hang on I’ll be right there!” Qui-Gon was already ripping the lid off the jar that held his own Floo powder.

“Go you must,” Anakin hadn’t even noticed Headmaster Yoda, who was standing just in the doorway, “Handle everything else, we will,” Anakin didn’t really care whether or not he’d interrupted something important.

Hogwarts could burn to the ground for all he cared. His mother was missing and that was the only thing he cared about.

***

Qui-Gon held onto the boy’s shoulder as he sobbed uncontrollably while the police, both magical and muggle swarmed the apartment. He’d called the auror’s first of course, but he couldn’t deny that Shmi’s disappearance could be because of muggle means.

The owner of the dirty pub had shrugged and said Shmi hadn’t shown up for her shifts for awhile, but it hadn’t yet caused him financial trouble so he hadn’t worried about it. Anakin had said some less than kind things to the man and Qui-Gon made a note to talk to him about it later, but he supposed it was hard to fault a twelve year old when his whole world had just gotten uprooted.

“Why,” The word was spoken so softly Qui-Gon thought for a moment he may have imagined it.

“Pardon?” He leaned down to be able to hear better.

“Why’d they take her away?” He managed to speak louder, though his voice wobbled and the threat of more tears was not far off, “She never did anything wrong, why her?”

Qui-Gon let out a long breath, that was not an easy question to answer. Not like such questions about where the boy would live. He would stay with Qui-Gon of course. And as for what they should do next, it was a waiting game unfortunately.

It was certainly not the time to mention his earlier suspicions. However, Qui-Gon never would have guessed that this ominous danger would befall Shmi, who was practically disconnected to the wizarding world in total.

“I’m not sure,” Qui-Gon admitted, he always found it was best not to lie, not at a time like this, “Sometimes bad things happen to good people-”

“It’s not FAIR!” Anakin stomped his foot on the ground.

“Life isn’t always as fair as it should be,” Qui-Gon knelt down so he could be at eye level with the boy.

“I want her,” He sniffed, tears already falling once more, “I want my mum.”

“I know, I know,” Qui-Gon said solemnly, “But I’ll promise you this,” Anakin looked up through the droplets on his lashes to meet Qui-Gon’s steady stare, “I’ll do everything I can to help find her, ok?” It was a weighty promise, but one that Qui-Gon was willing to make. He didn’t want anything bad to happen to Shmi and he certainly wanted her found for Anakin’s sake.

Anakin managed to give him a nod even as he cried harder at the thought and Qui-Gon pulled him into a hug so he could have a shoulder to cry on, quite literally. No longer looking into the face of a child he felt his face fall into a dejected frown. What was the point of all this? Was it the prophecy? Was it simply an act of villainy? All concerns for his own safety at the hands of the missing necklace went out the window. Anakin’s safety was really his only concern. He had the Chosen One, a young boy, in his care and he would do everything necessary to keep him safe.

***

Despite the bustling holiday cheer that warmed the walls and everything between at Professor Qui-Gon Jinn’s humble abode, Obi-Wan found himself occupying the kitchen more often than not. He knew from experience and constant nagging from his mother that hosting was a complicated and exhausting duty and grew up shouldering part of that burden in order to keep up critical appearances. Of course, the parties his family hosted were nothing like this.

It was more than just the homemade decorations and the physical vibrancy of the room. Yes, the many streams of garland and tapestry were lovely. The lighting was soft, but colorful as it had been donned with twinkling Christmas lights and scented candles that were transfixed to never burn out. Stockings lined the mantle of the fireplace, which was situated right beside a beautiful Christmas tree.

Even from here, he admired Anakin’s work on the tree. He wondered if it was how his mother had done it every year. Judging by how methodical the whole process had been, he would assume so.

It all felt like home in a way his house never did.

The smiles, for one thing, never met their eyes at his parents’ famous shin-digs and there certainly weren’t quite as many children. The only other person his age was usually Asajj Ventress, who was far from his first choice in company. Buoyant holiday music didn’t play from an enchanted piano nor were the eating arrangements as casual as simply helping yourself. His house was usually filled with an eerie classical music that his mother worshipped and had nothing short of a five course meal consisting of exotic foods he’d never heard of.

He couldn’t cook to save his life, but knew many efficient spells at assisting the task. Qui-Gon had it partially covered, of course, because all of the appliances were working at full and seamless speed without an error along the way. Obi-Wan would hastily run stuff out, ensure that everyone was still having a grand time, and then disappear again to continue helping.

It was important for this Christmas to go well. Anakin had just lost his mother and was rightfully very maudlin as of late. Qui-Gon had taken him in and sought to give him a good home, which was wonderful. It was truly fantastic. Obi-Wan, himself, hadn’t seen much of his former mentor at all this term, let alone this evening, but it was more than understandable. He was included just enough to be invited early for his annual Christmas party to help setup.

It was a good idea for Qui-Gon to throw together the last minute-affair and wise all the same to be able to skirt around Headmaster Yoda’s rules in such a way. It didn’t seem most of the professors minded much or maybe they also terribly needed a distraction from current events, because many were in attendance. Of course, the stiffer ones, like Professor Windu, had opted to skip.

It was also a decent distraction from how horribly his Winter Holiday had been going, not that it was anything new. He wasn’t much for lying and knew the repercussions of getting caught, but he’d told his parents he was meeting with Ventress for the evening. They were absolutely ecstatic to hear that and sent him on his way with flowers and all. Technically, Ventress was at the party, so any scrutiny could simply be met with that.

He’d awkwardly given the flowers to Anakin instead, who’d rightfully responded with a weird look.

His parents had been especially cross with him lately when they discovered he was taking the advanced class of Defense Against the Dark Arts against their wishes. They’d nearly elected to lock him in his room for the remainder of break when it came out. Luckily, he was able to save some face by mentioning seeing Ventress at some point.

His family was also surprisingly concerned over Anakin’s home situation as of now. They expressed great distaste for his mother being so cavalier in her choice of guardian for him. Apparently, Obi-Wan’s mother had gone to school with Shmi and felt she was gullible to fall for a silver-tongued cad in the muggle world. They claimed she should have been more careful with the boy, since he was precious beyond measurable worth. It was interesting that Obi-Wan’s alignment with Anakin, which was initially viewed as a foolish errand, was now being heralded by his parents and grandparents.

He released a heavy sigh and picked up another plate.

As he exited the kitchen to bring out another serving of deviled eggs, he took in the sight of the party. Joy and laughter filled the air much to Obi-Wan’s relief. Even Anakin seemed as though he was having a good time. He’d found a good friend in Padmé Amidala and knew it was wise of Qui-Gon to see that she was invited.

The Fett’s were all rough-housing in the living room, displaying some wrestling moves they’d recently learned over break. It was their newest and most recent obsession. He did note that Rex kept glancing towards Anakin every now and then. While Anakin certainly had larger issues at hand, it was apparent that the boys, who no longer seemed to be outwardly fighting, were still not quite on the same level that they once were.

Anakin was practicing catching gumdrops in his mouth, which was likely an ill-advised attempt to impress Padmé in some way. She seemed partially invested and partially concerned he would choke, which was the right amount of attention for the boy.

Professor Plo Koon slow-danced with an inebriated Professor Shaak Ti, who was being photographed by Professor Yaddle, likely for a later laugh or a reminder of the events of the evening. Professor Depa Billaba was chatting with Caleb Dume, but he seemed to be distracted by the gentle snowfall from outside.

All was well.

In his search, he caught Satine’s passing stare. She was currently perched on the couch with a mug of warm butterbeer in her hands and was chatting with Bail Organa and Fenn Rau. Her hair was down in flowing waves that cascaded down to her shoulders. She was trying to grow out her bangs and had them clipped back with a little green barrette that matched the long sleeve dress she wore. Her eyes were warm with mirth and inviting for him to come over. Despite the bubble that seemed to grow in his chest, threatening to pop, his feet remained still. He simply nodded at her with what he hoped was a friendly smile and turned to go back to work.

He was just about to wonder where Qui-Gon had disappeared off to when a large hand was splayed firmly on his shoulder.

“What are you doing?” Qui-Gon’s deep voice asked.

He was startled, even if he had no real reason to be. It wasn’t as though he was caught with his hand in the cookie jar or anything.

“I’m setting out the food.”

“You’ve been doing that all night.” He said. “You’re working like a servant except nobody asked you to do so.”

“You know how important it is that this party goes well, Professor.” Obi-Wan said and nodded over to Anakin.

“As a matter of fact, I do, actually. I’d say he’s having a nice time too.” Qui-Gon said sagely. “Doesn’t explain why you would think spending your entire night in the kitchen is going to improve his spirits.”

Obi-Wan bit his tongue from remarking how this was the first real conversation they’d had in weeks and that somehow it was layered in criticism. Obi-Wan was used to appraisal and scathing speeches of failure and the tightening noose of expectation, but not from his former mentor.

“Like you said, he’s enjoying himself. That’s what matters.” He said shortly.

“I’d like you to enjoy yourself too every now and then, you know.” Qui-Gon leaned against the counter, but Obi-Wan still had to crane his head to look the larger man in the eyes. “So, what is it you’re actually avoiding?”

Obi-Wan straightened. “I’m not avoiding anything! I’m just-”

“-Distracting yourself from what’s bothering you. I know it when I see it, Obi-Wan. You’ve been one of my pupils for six years now and despite how you may try, even you have tells.” He smirked, “Every time you come out of the kitchen, you do a perimeter scan of the room. Some may take it as a neurotic need for everyone to be safe and accounted for, but I know better.”

“You don’t exactly become Head of Ravenclaw House without knowing better.” Obi-Wan said, though his mind briefly sifted back to the previous Head of Ravenclaw and debated that statement.

“Good, so hear me when I say that you need to live your life.”

He furrowed his brow. “What does that mean?”

“I’ve watched you leap through hoop after hoop to please everyone, Obi-Wan and it simply cannot be done. You’re even doing it tonight! The sooner you make your peace with that, the happier you’ll be.”

Obi-Wan inspected the long-haired professor to see if he’d perhaps engaged in too much eggnog this evening.

“I know I can’t please everyone.” He said sharply but maintained his tone so as not to disturb the other guests. “I’ve learned that the hard way, thank you.”

Qui-Gon’s eyes softened. “I never meant to insinuate that it was easy. I know I’ve been busy with Anakin recently and it would be normal for you to feel neglected-”

“-I don’t.” Obi-Wan lied and perhaps the swiftness of his response made that more obvious. He wondered if it really counted as a lie if he didn’t want it to be true. He felt selfish and guilty for feeling the inklings of that. Anakin’s mother was missing! He had no reason to feel like he was the one going through the hard time right now simply because he wasn’t receiving as much attention as before. What bothered him more, was that he somehow made this transparent enough to be seen. He desperately hoped Anakin didn’t notice.

Qui-Gon nodded. “Look at Hondo.”

“I’d really rather not.”

“Humor me, please.” He sighed and Obi-Wan obeyed.

Hondo Ohnaka was planted firmly beneath the mistletoe as he had been all night. He called over to just about every living and breathing body at the party to come over and share “the Christmas cheer” with him. Even his bright and sparkly sweater implored people to “meet him at the naughty list”, which blended in with the many counts of jewelry that always draped around his neck and wrists. Some of it, Obi-Wan had to admit, looked quite expensive.

As far as Obi-Wan had seen, Hondo hadn’t had any takers. He could try to have more tact in his approach. Simply going for every single person at the party just didn’t feel in line with the spirit of the holiday. He kept glancing around, looking quite intently at him and Qui-Gon for a long moment before turning rather suddenly to face the other way.  

“Hey, baby! I’ve got something sweet for you to taste… And some cookies!” He laughed as he held up a plate of Christmas cookies to Stass Allie as she passed by without giving him any thought.

“I think he needs to call it quits.” Obi-Wan mused.

“Hondo is eccentric and uninhibited… He needs to brush up on his manners and probably shower a bit more… Also, I’m fairly certain he was the one who stole Headmaster Yoda’s quill set.”

“What’s your point?” Obi-Wan asked.

“Hondo lives his life shamelessly. He is who he is. When he sees something he wants, he does everything in his power to make it happen. His execution probably needs a little refinement, but the point is, he takes chances and he’s happier for it.”

“Yeah and he’s doing so well tonight.”

“Maybe not.” Qui-Gon said. “But you can’t win the games you refuse to play.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes seemed to naturally return to Satine, who was now quite heatedly making some point with Tarkin and was being backed by Fenn Rau on some injustice. He doubted she needed the help by how she was reaming into Tarkin. However, Rau seemed eager to assist, much to Obi-Wan’s chagrin.

Even with the knowledge that Satine supposedly wasn’t interested, it still bugged him to some end.

He cleared his throat and turned back to his amused Professor. “That’s why I’m taking DADA this year again. I want to be an auror.”

“And you’ll make a mighty fine one. You came to that conclusion all on your own, eh?”

He hadn’t and they both knew it. There was no use denying it.

“I… Had some help.” Obi-Wan said.

Qui-Gon smiled and looked out at the party. “So, what are you going to do about that?”

“I’m going to be an auror.” He said with renewed strength.

He tapped the watch on Obi-Wan’s wrist, “I’m talking about tonight.”

He felt his cheeks go red and was irritated when Qui-Gon tilted back his head and laughed so loud that the entire room was drawn to their conversation Eventually, when it subsided, they all turned back to their respective conversations.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about! We’re friends!” He hissed.

“She’s not going to wait around forever, my young apprentice. Even if she isn’t sure she’s waiting. Take it from an old fool who knows what it’s like to miss out.”

And with that, he left a very bashful and embarrassed Obi-Wan to his own thoughts again. Hondo tried to call Obi-Wan over, but it was easy to ignore as he was trying desperately to sink into the floor and away from everyone else. He couldn’t believe Qui-Gon thought his friendship with Satine was the equivalent of Hondo trying to kiss practically every person in the room.

They were friends. That was all. He didn’t understand why that had to make their relationship less meaningful.

So, occasionally he felt a little light-headed when she touched his arm or laughed at his jokes. Maybe his gaze lingered on her when she stretched or crinkled her brow in contemplation while they studied together. Sometimes, his hands grew sweaty if hers accidentally brushed against his while they walked. She always smelled wonderful, but he’d only noticed because they were always together!

And just because they were always sitting together or took the same classes and always worked together on projects, did not mean there was anything else going on.

Yes, he trusted her with his life and would surely give his for her in a heartbeat. He might have been slightly miffed whenever Fenn Rau or Tarkin or any of the other boys commented that she was beautiful. She was beautiful, but anyone with eyes could objectively make that conclusion.

And that she was charming and self-reliant. She was utterly brilliant with a wit that crushed his into dust. She was above all else caring to the extent of wishing no harm even to her enemies and wanted peace before anything. She was stubborn and defiant, but also incredibly altruistic and fair. Her humor was the exact same as his and was never afraid to go for the jugular.

Of course he cared for her and noticed how she ran her hands through her hair when she was nervous or how she bit her bottom lip when she was confused. It wasn’t like he fixated on such things… All the time.

He’d be a liar to say there wasn’t tension, but a great deal of that had to do with how often they disagreed! He was getting riled up just thinking of how different his conversation would have been with Qui-Gon if Satine had been there with her disapproval of his family’s ways.

Yet he missed her when she wasn’t around. Her honesty was so rooted in a deep sense of caring that he couldn’t entirely fault her for it. She would never steer him wrong and wanted what was best for him. He knew that in his bones even when they wanted to pounce on each other.

She knew him through and through and cared for him even if he came from a family that would despise her if they knew just how important she was to Obi-Wan.

And, if he was honest, he looked for her at every Quidditch match, every meeting, every get-together, because…

She was his best friend!

Just that.

***

Satine blew softly to ease the steam that permeated from the mug in her hands. She’d unexpectedly traded her butterbeer for hot chocolate when Fenn Rau slid the mug in her hands after she mentioned she wasn’t a big butterbeer fan. The little gingerbread man shaped marshmallows that floated on the surface were enchanted to dance until they melted away into frothy foam.

“You do have an eye for detail.” She commented as she watched one of them disappear into nothing. To Satine’s chagrin, when she looked back up to Fenn, he was standing much closer than he had before. He must have been participating in the ugly sweater contest, because the little cotton balls that were supposed to be snowballs on his blue and red sweater were atrocious.

It had become impossible to ignore the cold truth that was Fenn Rau’s sudden romantic interest in her. In the beginning, she thought he was just looking for a new friend or someone to show him around as a prefect, but then he started to appear everywhere and seemingly intent on impressing her in every way possible. She could have sworn he had recently gotten more competitive with Obi-Wan, which just felt plain silly at the core.

Especially since he basically tried to pawn Satine off to Rau- a reality that she tried not to groan at- the moment he had the opportunity to do so.

She didn’t love having Aayla and Stass’s incessant “I told you so” voices ringing in her ears on repeat, but pretending to be ignorant now was doing far more harm than good. For instance, she didn’t want Rau to be under the impression that she was leading him on. That was something Satine did not want to do.

“I notice everything,” Fenn said with a smile and took another step closer. Soon, if he kept moving as he was, that wouldn’t be possible anymore, and Satine really didn’t want to consider what possibilities lurked after that.

Clearly, not everything.

“Is that so?” She asked innocently, though she had a lurking suspicion that she wasn’t going to be too fond of where this conversation was going.

“Yes,” He nodded and shifted in his stance, clearly trying to keep his cool and appear taller than he was, “Like… How you always carry your books in the order of when you have class or how you aren’t fond of your food touching or how you never wear your hair the same way two days in a row.”

That last one sounded made up to Satine, if only because it was unintentional, but it seemed Fenn couldn’t be stopped even though she desperately wanted him to. In her opinion, this wasn’t the time for this sort of confession. Cody was glancing at her from the piano as though silently asking her if she needed help. Aayla and Stass, who were giggling amongst themselves by the staircase, clearly could also tell what was going on.

“Or how you absolutely despise morning rounds,” Fenn kept going, “Or… Or how there’s no one presently standing under the mistletoe and I couldn’t help but notice that you can’t seem to stop glancing in that direction.”

The last bit came out frantically, like he’d been so nervous that he forgot how to properly speak and breathe at the same time. Because of this, it took a beat for Satine to comprehend what he was insinuating, until it finally felt like a bubble popped between them.

Well, there was no more denying it after that jumbled suggestion.

“Oh! Um, with you?” She glanced back in the direction towards the mistletoe and it seemed Hondo had taken a bathroom break, because it was presently a vacant spot. Had Rau known her like he believed he did, he would have realized that she wasn’t deviating towards the mistletoe, but the array of dishes that lay beyond it and more importantly, who set out those dishes at a dizzying pace and seemed to refuse engaging with the masses.  

She’d taken too long to answer, because quickly, Fenn shook his head aggressively, “Not that you have to go under there with me… I mean, it would be nice, but you don’t have to. I haven’t been- It’s not like I’ve been thinking about it all night. It just came to me, as an idea, maybe. If you wanted- I’ve been told I’m a decent snogger. Not that I’ve snogged a lot of girls. Or boys! I’ve never actually snogged a boy, but if I had, I’m sure they would say I’m-”

“-No, no, I’m sure you are decent!” Satine waved her hands out in front of her as though trying to physically stop him from the painful stilted tangent he was trying to constantly start and stop, “But it wouldn’t be right as I would never want to give you the wrong impression.”

“And what would that be?”

Did all boys require such deliberate specifications? Or just the ones in her life?

She sighed, “You’re brilliant, you really are, and I’m sure there’s a girl out there for you, but unfortunately, I don’t believe she’s me.”

Smooth, clean, and to the point. For someone who had spent the better part of this term denying that Rau had these sorts of feelings for her, she sure was relieved to have cleared the air. It was what was best for the both of them.

He blinked, “Is it someone else?”

“I’m sure.” She said kindly, “Frankly, there are lots of girls who-”

“-No, I mean, do you fancy someone else?” He corrected.

“Well,” She had to tamper down the indignant side of her that wanted to explain that there didn’t need to be anyone else for her not to return his affections, but she was momentarily distracted by Obi-Wan walking from the kitchen with far too many plates balanced in his hands. They wobbled back and forth in tandem with how he moved before meeting an unseemly and cacophonous end as they shattered against the hardwood floor.

Fenn, like everyone else, turned towards the commotion, but looked back at her with a sort of sad understanding that she hadn’t noticed at first, seeing as she was a bit caught up in how quickly Obi-Wan had whipped out his wand and gathered all the missing pieces and reassembled the plates.

“I see,” He cleared his throat and she gave him a curious look after Obi-Wan disappeared into the kitchen.

“I’m sorry?” She frowned.

“It’s alright,” He said, “I won’t stand in the way.”

“What are you-”

“-I think it’s a little less insulting to not further deny it.” He said tartly, but not completely absent of compassion, “He’s a lucky bloke, even if he doesn’t know it yet.”

Satine had to swallow the rising bitterness that was definitely her pride for being seen so thoroughly, “Truly an eye for detail.”

He quirked a small smile at that, “I don’t know if it takes an eagle eye to notice that.”

“Still,” She shrugged weakly, “I’m sorry.”

He raised a hand, “You’ve nothing to apologize for. Trust me when I say I hope it works out for you two. Though if you ever change your mind…”

“You’ll be someone’s first choice someday, Fenn.” She gave his hand a squeeze, “I’m sure of it.”

Despite it not working out how Fenn Rau thought, Satine couldn’t help but internally thank him for what transpired. She learned that maybe, she needed to take more risks.

***

One thing about being a wizard was that it wasn’t completely necessary to learn musical instruments, much to Anakin’s amusement. Some people still did, as Qui-Gon demonstrated for everyone, but others just merely enchanted the piano to play whatever they pleased.

His mum would quite enjoy that. She always loved classical Christmas music.

As another wave of sadness rose through his senses and nearly gave way of seeping out of every pore, he stamped it down in determination not to cry in front of everyone at the party. It was bad enough that it felt like every person that came up to him was trying to perform some sort of circus act to distract him, but he didn’t want to deal with the explanation.

It was a party and while he felt like the center of it, it was designed to be fun for everyone. It wouldn’t bring his mum back to him, but the thought had to count for something. Padmé had been sweet enough to check on him a good bit, especially when she could have been spending time with her friends or with Satine, who looked like she’d rather be anywhere but with Fenn Rau.

Anakin might have been more excited about it a mere two weeks ago, but despite the beautiful colors, everything seemed to be painted in gray.

Even Hondo seemed to lack some of his luster when he returned from the loo, wearing a stern sort of melancholy that reminded Anakin of Watto when he suffered severe indigestion after an awful meal. Anakin had at least been expecting him to try and pawn off some more merchandise opportunities on him, but it seemed even he got the holiday blues every now and then.

“Not making enough sales this year?” Anakin couldn’t help but ask, because really, if anyone had the right to be upset this Christmas, it was him.

Hondo, as if realizing he was still at the party at all, shook his head, “Oh, er- never! Hondo knows how to push his product beyond anything. I assure you, you will see that 15% very soon and it will be chunky!”

Anakin narrowed his eyes, “My mum just went missing and you’re trying to slate me 5% of my profits?”

It wasn’t about the money, but it was worth mentioning.

Hondo’s big brown eyes widened beneath his goggles, which were beyond unnecessary in their current setting, even if it did snow an ample amount the night before. “Did I say 15%? I meant 20%! Silly me! I forgot to mention your holiday bonus.”

“It’s not like I’ll be able to spend that money on anyone.” He sighed and crossed his arms, “I was going to get my mum a new history book so she could catch up on everything she missed in the wizarding world. Word on the street is I’m actually in it.”

“I’m sure you are! What were they paying you?” Hondo asked and he was seeming a bit more like himself by the moment.

“Not everything is about galleons, you know.” Anakin said pointedly.

“That is what the rich people want you to think, Skywalker.” Hondo showcased the array of shiny necklaces that strung around his neck and jangled the bracelets on either wrist, “Do you know what makes these priceless?”

Anakin frowned, “They’re pretty ugly, which I suppose rich people tend to think gives it charm.”

“Exactly,” He smacked him on the back, “But I was going to say that they’re all stolen. Surely, you know that a pirate’s stolen treasure gives it a great deal more oomf. Nobody can resist that sort of quest. Stolen goods are absolutely the most valuable trinkets on the market.”

“That’s what my mother essentially is to her kidnapper.”

“Then you need to steal her back.” Hondo winked.

Anakin stood taller at that and looked over to Qui-Gon as Hondo did the same, seeming to have the same thought in his eyes (though Hondo might have been planning on lifting some of the expensive china that Obi-Wan had just dropped everywhere).

He was going to get her back. No matter what it took.

***

“You need to talk to him.” Cody said as he crossed his arms and looked at a rather shy and sullen Rex.

“I’m not sure how.” He said quietly, “I’ve been trying to wrap my head around all of this and I can’t figure out what would even be the proper thing to say.”

“Sometimes, it’s not saying anything at all.” Cody said.

“Was that supposed to be deep?” Fives complained, “You’re not exactly a philosopher, I’m sorry to say.”

“Yeah, don’t quit your day job.” Echo shook his head, “Just tell him you’re there for him, Rexy.”

“But I haven’t been.” Rex said.

“Yeah, and no one else is right now either.” Cody referred to Anakin’s “friends” who had been spending the whole term surrounding him like the leeches that they were. Now that the kid was dangerous to be around again, they weren’t nearly as keen on spending one-on-one time with him anymore. Ferus, Jax, and Tru all had their backs pointedly turned to the boy by the concessions table, literally boxing him out.

“I know.” Rex frowned, “I said some pretty awful things. And so did he.”

“And are you still mad at him?” Fives asked.

“No! I just… I don’t know. I don’t want to make him feel any worse than he likely already does.” Rex said, “I just want him to feel better.”

“I understand.” Cody said with a firm nod, “Remember the winter that mum left? What we did to get all of our aggression and sadness out in a good, healthy way that also exhausted us into the best sleeps we ever had?”

“Don’t say Quidditch right now, Cody.” Echo groaned.

“Shut it, I’m talking about-”

“-SNOWBALL FIGHT!” Rex shouted.

***

As everyone else tugged on their coats and jumpers to protect themselves from the blistering cold and to better support themselves in the brawl that would surely ensue on Qui-Gon’s vast snow-covered lawn, Hondo lingered behind, nodding at a passing Ventress before looking towards the dining room, where Qui-Gon Jinn sat.

Alone in the shadows, this command shall ring,

An undeniable voice will repeatedly sing.

With this necklace you will slay,

The protector who lies in the way.

Unless completed, the task will burn,

Or removed for another person’s turn.

It should have frightened him that it felt like a swan song, but it danced through his ears with the allure of a temptress guiding him under the sheets, swimming in them, bathing in golden glory. His mind’s eye was eclipsed and he knew no other than the clarity that was brought before him without a moment’s notice.

A smile stretched across his face as he envisioned succeeding in destroying his prey, in pleasing his master. Doing so would rid these chains from around his neck, would give him freedom. He would be a hero of the new age and paid handsomely.

The witch’s voice whispered seductively in his ear.

“Now’s the time… Do it.”

He couldn’t think of anything he wanted more or before this moment, except snuffing the light out of the putrid Muggle Studies professor. It would not bring about freedom to his people, but it would be a start. He had waited so long, missed so many opportunities. Every time it felt he nearly had his hands around the large professor’s neck, the spell was gone.

But not tonight.

Tonight he would-

He blinked awake when Kit Fisto emerged through the back door with a large cake in his hands.

“I don’t suppose you could show me a thing or two about muggle weapons, Qui-Gon? I was always curious if there were some properties that could resist magic.” The charming DADA professor grinned.

Hondo rubbed his eyes. He really didn’t know what was going on with him lately. It was as though he was blacking out while standing on his own two feet. Afterwards, he felt as though he was locked inside a dark room without any light. Or worse, a piggy bank without any galleons.

Qui-Gon smiled at him from his place at the kitchen table. “Everything alright, Hondo?”

He stammered, “Uh, yes! My apologies, just tired is all.”

Or so he hoped.

***

Anakin thought that regular snowball fights were fun, but with magic, anything was possible. The Fett’s had constructed a catapult of sorts, clearly experienced in their endeavors of war, and developed an entire war-based strategy on snuffing out the enemy. Anakin was surprised when Cody had dragged him over to their base, seeing as he’d been such a jerk to Rex. However, he was glad for it, because Ferus and Jax made it incredibly clear by their sudden shunning of him that he was not to be a part of their squad.

He would be more peeved by their sudden change in tune if he already didn’t have larger worries at hand. He almost didn’t agree to playing in the snow right now, but Cody had been so insistent that he couldn’t deny, which was a point that Obi-Wan had made when even he took a break from playing maid and pulled on his winter coat and gloves. Anakin knew at that point that there was no going back.

The fluffy snow that pillowed across the rolling landscape of Qui-Gon’s homestead was something found in Christmas cards, topped off with the soft beacon of light that the rainbow strings of lights around his house offered. Snowflakes still trickled around them, albeit at a slower and more manageable pace, decorating their hair and hats with a sparkling white texture.

The cold air was rejuvenating as it was sobering and Anakin felt for the first time all week like it was possible to romanticize anything ever again.

Well, until a ball of snow hit him right in the face.

“Skywalker, you can’t just leave yourself exposed like that!” Cody hollered at him.

“Yeah, you’re wide open to the enemy!” Fives added.

Anakin shook his head, blond bangs now damp with ice, and crouched down beside the boys as they planned their onslaught. “Who threw it?”

“That coward, Olin.” Rex, who’d materialized beside him, pounded and shaped an ice ball in his hands and extended it out to Anakin. Anakin looked at him curiously. Why would Rex want to help him get even with the people that Anakin had quite literally ditched him for all term? Maybe he hadn’t meant to, but that was certainly how it played out.

“Rex, I’m-” He began, but Rex more insistently put the snowball in Anakin’s hand.

“-Don’t mention it, mate.” He said with a coy smile, “Let’s go kick some arse.”

Anakin swallowed the ball of emotion that once again rose in his throat- an easy thing to do when Cody shouted “CHARGE” and they all went sprinting forward. He and Rex remained back-to-back, through it all, never once abandoning the other.

He knew for sure now what made for a true friend.

***

Obi-Wan managed to force himself into the festivities, despite Qui-Gon’s words biting at him. They’d all engaged in a big snowball fight in the backyard, spearheaded by Cody and Anakin. It ended up being a competition divided by houses, but Satine still managed to get Obi-Wan in the face with a ball of ice.

She’d claimed it was an accident, but laughed when he retaliated in kind.

Hondo continued his excursions under the mistletoe with consistently negative results. It was for the best, in a way, because none of the couples felt the desire to show off and put themselves under the mistletoe if Hondo was there.

Eventually, like all good times, the party had to end and he found himself feeling a little lighter afterwards. His parents didn’t expect him back until morning, which meant he had at least the remainder of the evening to retain levity before it was back to studies and silence.

Anakin had tuckered himself out and fell asleep in front of the fireplace not too long after everyone began to depart. The Fett’s offered to stick around and help, but Qui-Gon dismissed them as Obi-Wan and Satine already had a good handle on most of it.

He picked the unconscious Anakin off the floor like he was a bag of grapes and smiled at Obi-Wan and Satine.

“Thank you two for sticking around and helping.” He said in a hushed tone.

“Of course. ‘Can’t let Ben get all the credit.” She smirked, but her eyes were bright and merry. Obi-Wan realized how close they’d been standing and carefully leaned back to grab another dirty dish to put in the sink.

“If you don’t mind, I’m going to put this one to bed. He’s had a long day.”

More like a long year, but neither teenager commented on it.

After he ascended up the stairs, Satine sighed, “He sure knows how to throw a good time, doesn’t he?”

“Yeah,” Obi-Wan said lightly. “He does.”

“I noticed you were gone for most of it.” She said carefully.

“Qui-Gon did too.” He muttered.

“Is everything alright?” She knew it wasn’t, of course, but he guessed she was asking to see if anything else had managed to go wrong in the past 24 hours. “You haven’t written all break.”

“My parents found out that I’m pursuing DADA this year. I think they’ve connected the dots about my hopes of becoming an auror.”

She frowned. “You hadn’t told them.”

He shook his head and turned away, busying himself with washing a plate. He knew the spell for that but preferred to have something to do with his hands. Besides, he already knew the look that was blooming on her face without seeing it. She likely already had her hands on her hips and steel in her eyes.

“Well, you had to know they’d find out eventually.” She said. “When the grades for the semester came back.”

“Yes, well, it went about as I’d expected. They’re quite cross with me.”

Where he expected a rant of “I told you so” or something else that he really didn’t need to hear, Satine once again, managed to surprise him. She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Is that what you and Qui-Gon were talking about?”

“Kind of.” He was glad he wasn’t facing her so she couldn’t see how red his cheeks had gotten. “He’s been a little busy as of late. Expectedly so. I mean, Anakin is young and requires guidance. Now that this chosen one stuff is going around, everyone’s apparently going to be gunning for the boy… Plus, I’m practically done at Hogwarts. Just over a year and-”

“-He’s not replacing you.” She cut in.

Silence. All Obi-Wan could hear was the ticking of the clock as it echoed through the old house. He stilled his movements and turned to find she was standing very close to him. So close that if he just leaned forward a tiny bit…

“Ben, you know that, right?” Satine was firm in her position and did not want to let the topic drop. Nothing new about that.

He let his shoulders drop. “I’m not trying to say that he is. I don’t own him. He’s not my father and he doesn’t owe me anything. I have no business being hurt over that when there’s a child that requires care and he’s absolutely the right person for it.”

“You know that from experience.” She said in a quiet voice.

“Yeah,” He nodded. “I do.”

“Well,” She moved the plate from Obi-Wan’s hands and set it on the counter. “You need care too sometimes.”

“Have you two been conspiring this evening?” He questioned. “Because that’s what he was saying.”

“No, but I’ve known you for the better part of six years and would like to think that I have at least become a little well-versed in your mannerisms. We care about you.”

He wondered if this meant she saw what Qui-Gon had apparently taken notice of when it came to how he acted around Satine… How she was the same as pursuing being an auror somehow.

“I know.” He smiled. “I care about you too… Both of you.”

Standing in the ambient low-lighting of the dining room, only illuminated by the last vestiges of Christmas lighting, he could still make out every detail of her lovely face. Her eyes had drifted above them in confusion and eventual bashfulness and he followed her gaze to see a small sprig of mistletoe precariously hanging where it hadn’t been before.

“I thought… I thought it was near the closet.” He said, but when he looked past Satine to where Hondo had been standing all evening, there was no longer any mistletoe.

It glittered with the remnants of enchantment and seemed to grow from the very ceiling. While he knew someone was definitely behind this, he didn’t have the presence of thought to think of anyone in particular.

Instead he looked quickly back to Satine, who was staring at him in a curious way. Her eyes were practically sparkling and seemed to rove over his entire face, settling ever so briefly on his mouth. He hadn’t missed it though, because he’d done the same thing.

“Hondo didn’t have much luck with that this evening.” She said gently.

“No,” He chuckled. “I don’t suppose he did. He’d certainly paid his dues. I wonder if he rigged it with a love potion of sorts.”

She smiled softly and he couldn’t bring himself to steer his eyes away from hers, like they were locked in a trance.

“I don’t think he did.” She said. He’d argue he was spellbound, if that didn’t sound so absurd, but he wasn’t sure which one of them moved first as it felt more like gravitational pull that they were both leaning into. His heart was in his throat and every thought that troubled him so deeply the entire evening washed away in a single second’s time. He’d closed his eyes, completely wrapped in warmth as their noses brushed together.

Just as he felt her soft breath hitch against his, a loud clang from up the stairs jolted them apart. As soon as the moment started, it had been shattered and both were the color of rubies.

“Anakin?” Obi-Wan called.

“Just… Uh, just brushing my teeth. Dental hygiene.” The small boy called and the patter of hasty footsteps followed before the bathroom door closed.

Oh, how he wanted to melt away right there.

Satine cleared her throat, avoiding his gaze. “Yes, well, I should get going.”

“I’ll walk you out.” He said, also unable to look her in the eyes for fear of what he’d find.

“No, no that’s alright. I’m just using a portkey anyway.” She shrugged and then began to walk away. However, he thought she might have forgotten something, as she paused for a long moment at the door, one hand on the knob. Then, faster than he could comprehend, she quickly turned around, marched over to him, leaned up and pressed a firm kiss on his cheek, just barely catching the corner of his mouth too.

He caught her flushed gaze for a second as she’d lingered a moment longer than anticipated, which was fine because he also felt like his brain had melted to his shoes.

“Happy Christmas, Ben.” She said before steering herself back towards the door.

He gently raised his hand to where she’d kissed him. “Happy Christmas, Satine.”

#obi-wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #obitine #anidala #the clone wars #tcw #star wars #magical forces au #hpau

[poisonheadcrabsalesman]

More therapy thoughts part 1/?

Behavior Theory Frameworks/Conditioning and What the fuck does Master Chief talk about in therapy?

Ramblings below - like a lot, like I spent too much time writing this and you should not read this

Behavioral Theory could work well as a framework with rehabilitating Spartan IIs if the case worker focused on Operant Conditioning Theory and Cognitive Social Learning Theory, which I talked about in this ask because I think I’m funny and this blog is an archive of me applying human behavior theories to video games.

Spartans have always been taught the mission comes first! Always! The 2s are indoctrinated from age 6-14 and then have that reinforced the rest of their lives. From the beginning they are taught to push themselves to the limits, earn their food by winning, form bonds with teammates but be ready to sacrifice them for the mission. The whole lives wasted vs spent conversation between John and Mendez after the augmentation surgery!

What the UNSC/ONI wants comes before their lives, the lives of other soldiers, civilians, AI etc. This constant conditioning of expectations and rewards has created the norms cemented in their minds. This becomes standard operating procedure.

Spartans are also an entirely separated social group, other people have made really great posts on how they are Othered and have their own way of communicating with body language. ODSTs hate Spartans, marines see them as cyborgs or saviors, and while they’re allies, Spartans are not seen or treated as human, by literally everyone. They are a means to an end, with the original goal being to maintain the UNSC’s position of power and crush the insurrectionists in the outer colonies, but uh oh Aliens!

Maybe the 2s aren’t as expendable as the 3s but the mindset and reinforcement of “mission first, people second” being repeated their entire lives is going to stick. So is the constant mistreatment and abuse from their fellow soldiers and handlers. 

Addressing the cognitive distortions that come from their upbringing while also balancing the fact that Spartans are so fundamentally different from the way they developed to survive would be so much work, especially considering how much information on them is given to their therapist.  The main distortion I would apply is minimization, making large problems small and not properly dealing with them, and specifically for John, personification, accepting blame for negative events without sufficient evidence. 

Like these are grown ass super soldiers who can kill you in less than a second and calculate the amount of gravity in a room on the fly but then also can flounder when trying to comfort civilians or make small talk because their experiences and values are so alien to adults who had more developmentally “normal” lives. 

Literally applying therapy to Spartans would be like, what was done to you was wrong, the ends do not justify the means, you were children and the adults in your life failed to protect you. You are a human person who is fallible and did the best you could with what you had. And the Spartan would say, “sounds fake but okay, can I pass my psych eval and go back to war now please?”

Jumping back to Behavior Theory

Different approaches to therapy under the Behavior Theory umbrella help modify negative behaviors with treatments like Cognitive Behavioral Therapy and Dialectical behavior therapy that teach individuals adaptive coping like emotional regulation, distress tolerance, cognitive distortions, and interpersonal communication. And that’s just one framework under the umbrella of human behavior theories.

Social work therapy is different from psych as it approaches individuals with heavily researched, evidence-based theories and frameworks in a holistic viewing of person-in-environment, instead of a strong focus on internal psychology. 

Social work looks at all the interacting systems, environment, history, and internal and external factors affecting an individual. One of the most useful frameworks is the Biopsychosocial-Spiritual Frameworks (BPSS) when helping a client. It helps with identifying all the intersecting factors, both risk and protective, that shapes a client’s lived experiences. The most important thing to remember is that the individual is an expert in their own life, they know their experiences best.

The hardest part is applying this to Spartans because they Are So Fucked, their lived experiences, their environments and systems and institutions interacting with them, and the amount of their personal information that is probably so classified.

BPSS is a tool to help social workers assess individuals and their situations by collecting info that is related to the presenting issues and current and past circumstances. Info like medical history, hospitalizations, substance abuse, mental illness, personal relationships, family history and background, culture and norms, education, legal history, spirituality and participation etc. is all under this framework. 

For Spartan 2s most of this info is lost or classified and helping someone who has repressed every negative emotion they've had for the sake of the mission would be so much to unpack but that’s also why you’re reading the mad ramblings over an over caffeinated nerd on the internet.

Life Course Theory which looks at developmental milestones and the individual’s experiences versus the socially expected markers, how do you apply that to children who were taken and have lived such different lives? 

While early adolescence is when “normal” development of thoughts of self and identity take place alongside the physical changes of puberty, Spartans were being turned into emotionless calculating weapons. Sorry John, no forming a sense of identity and peer bonds for you, go kill that Watts guy who betrayed us and joined the insurrectionists. 

And now that I’ve gone this insane and opened 2 whole textbooks up, let’s get to Master Chief thoughts. If you’ve read this far thank you, I swear I’m normal, 2020 has just been a weird year. 

Why the fuck did I think I could write a therapy fic on a guy with 20 minutes of actual dialogue across almost 2 decades of games?

I make fun of him and call him a himbo, but he’s smart, he knows he’s being used and there is resentment there that’s been building for years. 

There’s also decades of trauma and combat experience, physical, and emotional abuse, the lack of a support network,  lack of an identity, the biological factors and aftermath of the augmentations and injuries he’s received, a whole lot of grief and self-inflicted guilt. 

The loss of a third of his peer group with the augmentation surgery, Sam’s death, the loss of Reach (the only place he’s considered home), Keyes, the Pillar of Autumn crew, Miranda Keyes, Johnson, Cortana. He cares about the marines who fight with him!!!

He just stands there and takes it and rarely snaps, and even then it’s just small cracks on the surface with fissures running deep. The few details I will pull from Halo 5 are Blue Team’s reactions to John pushing himself so hard from the beginning of the game, and the literal crack in his armor from the fight with Locke. Like dude.  

John’s a leader and will get the mission done but he tugs on the leash. He’s earned enough of a reputation and uses it to get his way.

Halo 2’s “Permission to leave the station” with Mr. “I’m going to hand deliver a bomb to the fusion reactor of a covenant supercarrier and hope my friends catch me”. 

Halo 4 is when we see him say no to a superior officer and then 5 is him going AWOL. Palmer literally points out that no one is going to stop him.

Halo 5 kills me for many reasons but John bringing up Halsey and what she did to him and also pointing out that he knows Halo 5 Cortana is trying to manipulate him with psychological tactics hurts. 

He knows what’s been done to him!

I cannot remember which book it was but John isn’t used to working alone. He literally takes fire because he was expecting someone to have his back! 

He’s lost without Cortana! She was in his brain! Y’all! I played Halo Combat Evolved on the original xbox when I was like 8 and I knew these two were meant to be together. From the moment they met they had great chemistry and relied on each other! Cortana literally goes after people who have it out for John! John wants her approval and shows off for her in one of the books. 

I’ve already written too much here but like all of the games have John showing off for Cortana, making dry jokes, jumping out of things he shouldn’t. 

The whole point of this rambling is to try and get my thoughts about how to approach John’s character under control.

And that’s the thing. He’s lost control. He’s lost people, he’s losing his position and being phased out as an aging spartan, a relic. John’s used to following orders and making some decisions on the battlefield but it was always short term.

He has no identity beyond being a weapon. Complete the mission, clear the LZ, get put in cryo. Rinse, repeat. 

The timeline of the games are what I'm most familiar with but with the comics and books too it’s one long run from Halo 2 to Halo 4. Cairo station to the Dreadnought to the crash landing to Forward Unto Dawn to Requiem to “The Didact is Dead but not really but we’ll deal with him off-screen”.

I know Hood apparently gave John R&R orders before Halo 5 that he ignored and kept running himself into the ground. This is a man who has to keep moving and keep being useful. 

I imagine him giving in and seeking help as a last resort to fix any problems he has with performing his duties rather than helping himself be healthier. 

Any professional he sees is going to have to approach him like they’re approaching a self sacrificing feral cat, with lunch meat and quiet. This man needs to have his support network closer, set up long term goals, and do some serious, and most likely incredibly painful, self reflection on where he’s come from and where he wants to go. Get him out of that tin can and into therapy. I don’t have a nice neat ending because this was a ramble and also therapy is not neat and tidy. Thanks for reading my words about mr halo

#this is not coherent but it needs out of my brain #John - has different characterizations based on what media he's in #Me - my writing must be in character or I Will Die #also me - we don't talk about halo 5 but i will loot its corpse for bits of lore I like #im sorry for being like this #my writing #Therapy time #John 117 #this is not a halo blog #haha this was peer reviewed nonsense #thanks yall for enabling me #i have even more ideas for the infinity sitcom folder now

[allet-space]

What keeps Steven from rebuilding his supportive Network

Short answer: The black-and-white sense of morality that he holds not others, but himself to.

Long answer:

Steven is known to sympathize with people and gems who did bad things. He sees them not as the abusers, but as the victims, and, as we all know, fixes them. He grants them a sense of self worth and supports them and guides them through their pain to help them reach a better state of being.

He has always been a symbol of change, both in his actions and in what he brings out in others. He helps others change. So why is he struggeling to change so badly? Isn’t he a victim, too, of circumstance, of Era 2, of unintentional harm cause to him by people who love him?

Steven grew up in the image that he should be his mom, Rose Quartz. He felt he had to reach that perfection someday: Be as strong as her, as kind as her, as good as her, as loving as her, fix everything like her. He held himself to this morality FIRST.

And THEN out of that morality and out of his innate desire to help others, he aided others in change.

Steven grew up first knowing the portrait of his mother and his dad’s stories of her as well as the CGs dearly missing her. He knew, he felt, that this was an image he had to reach, somehow. So, on that foundation, on those expectations, he began to build his identity.

His identity, son of Rose Quartz. Meant to be as good as her, meant to fulfill some kind of magical destiny. This is not to say he only helps or helped people because of her: But I am certainly trying to say that he started doing so because of her, because of these expectations. And those expectations also determined the approach he takes.

His approach is similar to that of Rose Quartz: The perfect one looking down on someone imperfect, and aiding them to be better.

Rose Quartz was beloved and adored during the rebellion. She was always right. She was the leader. Nobody questioned her. She was seen as the perfect, the pure and good gem that should lead this kind of rebellion. When she met Garnet, she deflects Garnet’s question on whether she makes Rose upset or not. Of course she doesn’t make Rose upset. Oh, no, it doesn’t even MATTER how she feels. The only thing that matters to this perfect and mysterious and everloving gem, with behavior never before seen by gemkind, is how this imperfect, new fusion sees the world.

It’s romantic, it’s pretty, like out of a fairytale. Life isn’t a fairytale, though, and Rose wasn’t perfect. That, however, was her approach. When she speaks to Pearl, the way she says she’s willing to let Pearl do whatever she wants without forcing her to fight for the rebellion, as if Pearl having the right to leave should be equal to the fact that Rose would simply accept it if it were so. Or, remember the sheer horror on her face when Greg calls out her laughter, as she realizes she’s made a mistake, that her abuse really did leave scars and she has to admit that the perfect Rose isn’t real. The imperfect one is, though.

Rose held herself to an image of perfection, likely something that the diamonds raising her planted deeply in her mind (gem?). Thus, even during the rebellion, she built a sense of morality, and refused to back down from it... and when she had to, with Bismuth, when she felt holding to that morality was no longer perfect, when her philosophy of friendship and perfection failed: She hides the evidence. Kinda like the diamonds hid Homeworld’s failures.

This image of perfection, despite not being truly real, prevailed till her death, till the moment Steven was born. So Steven, born into the world having immedietly a perfect, a not even REAL person’s space, an impossible space of perfection to fill, holds himself to the same standards. (Not to mention his gem programming likely still playing a part.)

She was perfect, so he has to be perfect. He has to know better. He has to be better. He has to be as strong as her, and as kind as her, and as sacrificing as her. He despises himself when his solutions dont immedietly work out the best way possible (blaming himself for the boat trip with lapis). He blames himself for when his attempts at helping go wrong, because Rose’s failures were covered up. There is no story where Rose Quartz The Perfect has to make morally ambiguous decisions, or where her way doesn’t work out despite the best intentions. She was just Good.

He apologizes in the series constantly: Because he feels he just can’t make mistakes. Making mistakes is unacceptable. Making mistakes distances him from the image he is meant to fill, an image he slowly, story for story, finds out wasn’t real. An image that he finds as just that: An image, a dream, a concept. His mother wasn’t perfect.

But then, who is he?

If he isn’t her son striving to be her, striving to be as good as her, if he isn’t the only one who can reach her level of perfection, if the very purpose he feels he was made for and the very foundation of his identity is a lie, then who is he?

That brings us to the problem. The moral problem of a character that means good but makes undeniable mistakes isn’t something that Rose solved. She left. Either way to see it, Steven is now there, meant to figure out what she didn’t: How does he deal with the inevitable guilt he feels for not being perfect? How can he be perfect? And that’s not even the question that’s going through his brain right now.

The question he seems to be stuck on is Why am I not perfect?

Why does it hurt? Why do I have thoughts of vengeance? Why did all of this stick with me? Why do I keep making mistakes? Why do things feel good that shouldn’t?

The world, as it is, divides itself into two perspectives: How we see ourselves, and how we see other people. These two are fundamentally different. Steven lived and grew up in a very specific dynamic: He has to be Better, he has to be Good, and he has to help the rest of the world be Better too.

And now he’s hit with the truth. He’s not perfect. He can hurt people on accident. He already has. His trauma leaves a lasting, lingering effect. When he speaks to other gems, he aids them because he feels their existance is already fundamentally justified. When he thinks of himself, he still feels he NEEDS to justify his existance FIRST. And the only way to do that is to be perfect. And the thing is, to be better, he has to accept he’s not perfect. It’s an endless cycle.

And now he feels his world is falling apart.

He can’t tell the gems what happened to Jasper, because then they’ll see that he failed. He failed to fill the mold, the place in the world he was born into. He’s terrified of what he did to WD in a dissociative, trauma-triggered rage because, dammit, now they know he’s not perfect. What will they think? What will they do when they find out?

And the funny thing is? The only person running away from who he truly is is Steven himself.

Steven has to change. He has to change his worldview, and especially his view of himself. There’s a difference between “I’m not my mom” and “Being her son doesn’t mean I need to live up to her image“.

Steven has to accept that he’s flawed, because then, he can see that nobody wanted him to be perfect in the first place. That is a conscious and incredibly difficult choice to make, however. A choice people usually only make when they have nowhere else to turn, which is where the show is getting him to right now.

Another problem that comes up is that Steven’s only known advice to change from himself. He knows it only in the dynamic of “Good Person helps person B get to a better place”. He’s been the ony dishing out advice so far. He sees the flaws in gems, in the CGs, in humans, and immedietly dismisses their advice, because they’re flawed. Because they’re not better than him.

Because he’s built his worldview on an unrealistic dynamic that he’s always been a part of, and now his confused brain insists he has to meet/see someone who is perfect and someone who could say a few words and give him an immediete easy fix.

That fix doesn’t exist, though, and sooner or later, Steven Universe has to accept that not only is the world grayscaled, but so is he.

#suf #suf analysis #long post #long ass post #su #here's another novel #i write these to cope with my own anxiety and identity issues #i should add pictures to these #make them prettier to read #hmmm...

[bbq-hawks-wings]

Series Review Pt. 2/3

Part One

Part Three

Continuing the trend, lots to read under the cut.

In part one we established that the central conflict of the series as a whole is not so much a black and white “good guys side vs bad guys side” but of a much more complex societal problem stemming from individual choices and series of choices made by individual people and the impact those choices have on others. This is the heart of the current conflict between Hawks and Twice.

Twice and Hawks share many things in common and have been shown to develop a genuine friendship in their shared time in the PLF. This, however, has not changed the fact that they are still functioning from opposite sides of the central conflict - at least the institutional facet of it. Each of them has taken up a position fundamentally opposed to the other in attempts to bring about their prospective “big picture” futures, but that comes with the added emotional baggage each carries from the events that have happened to them in their respective pasts.

The visual direction of the scene enforces this concept. Each one is seeing the other literally from a different angle and in a different light. Twice is on the ground prone in a room where the only exit is blocked while Hawks stands alert and at attention over him, obscuring the only source of light entering the room. 

From Twice’s perspective Hawks’ face is obscured- the harsh light from behind casting a dark shadow across any features that would clue him into what Hawks is feeling - and he has to use the context clues he has available (posture, words, immediate events) through tears and adrenaline to interpret how to respond to Hawks. He’s been so suddenly thrust into this situation he literally and metaphorically can’t properly tell which way is up from where he lies. (Note how Hawks’ silhouette is sideways and looming over him in the same direction as Twice would be seeing from his place on the ground on page 13.)

From Hawks’ perspective Twice is knocked off balance and panicking like a cornered animal, completely unaware of the larger situation at hand and how they arrived here. When the perspective of the camera shifts and we can see his face again for the first time we get a completely different picture of what’s going on. Importantly, we can see in the change in perspective a closeup (usually used to highlight the key emotion) of Hawks’ face, complete with a somber and compassionate gaze that Twice is incapable of discerning right now.

Read this section through again twice. The first time use only the frame from Twice’s perspective and the second time read it with Hawks’. This is something I’m actually intrigued to see the anime handle because depending how deep the divergence in perspective goes, even the vocal performance may be different depending on the camera angle.

Twice sees a sociopathic, unempathetic monster who has used, abused, and thrown away his sincere offer of friendship to get what he wants and then has the audacity to try to convince him to play the fool again to get Twice to betray his friends for an easy way out. Hawks sees a person who feels betrayed and scared so Hawks is trying sincerely to explain to him what has been going on in order to be transparent because that’s the only way he can think to communicate the fact that he still values Twice, ending on the note that he believes that while Twice has crimes to answer for, he is still a good person who deserves to have a real shot at a happy life and that Hawks is personally invested in making that a reality if he’s willing to take the offer and trust him.

Hawks is operating as an enforcing tool of the law, but while he believes that law is set in place for general stability and safety it takes a human to human connection and cooperation to save someone to whom the law is blind. On page 16 when he says, “I don’t want to fight you, Bubaigawara!” he’s identifying with him not as the villain Twice, but as a person with an identity and will separate from the personae he’s crafted for himself over the years. Hawks would probably use his own real name to try to hammer this point home if there was a way to naturally do it. If Bubaigawara continues to resist and fight Hawks cannot make the case to others that he deserves a second chance. 

The exact memory that comes to Hawks’ mind is Twice’s words, “Anyone who helps his friends can’t be all bad.” Hawks is trying to say in this scene, “I’m your friend! I’m trying to help you! I know you see me as the bad guy, but I want to be your hero so please let me save you the only way I know how! Please trust me!”

He needs the cooperation, but Twice resists and Hawks has no other choice but to operate as law enforcement for the sake of the greater good. Twice has chosen to be a “villain,” so Hawks has to be a “hero.” All those feathers were for Twice in the case Hawks needed them, and now Hawks has to subdue the Sad Man’s Parade alone as well as Dabi whom neither knows is on the way.

That’s the bad news, but the good news is that hope is not lost. 

This is where I repeat my mantra of “we won’t know specific, individual fates until they happen." However, I think there are notable observations to keep in mind as we watch these final battles unfold.

Coming off of the discussion with Twice and Hawks, many including myself (and arguably even Twice) have gotten hung up on whether Hawks will choose to join the League eventually. Where we are now, I think it’s become a moot point almost not worth discussion anymore. If he does, we’ll see it soon; but Hawks seems to recognize that as long as the core complaints of the individual League members - and any of their sympathizers, for that matter - are not directly addressed, some other criminal force will come alongside and clash with them continuing the cycle of bloodshed and violence as influential leaders focus on gaining power until they are absorbed or achieve their end goal of complete anarchy and societal destruction. (Remember, he’s been following the League and their movements at least as far back as Kamino.) We saw it with the MLA, we saw it with the Shie Hassaikai, and even with Stain - along with the League of Villains, it began with a guerrilla group of revolutionists seeking to right a societal injustice; but if and when a separate opposing force of revolutionist outsiders cannot agree with them a battle ensues until one is subjugated and the strength of the loser is granted to the victor. Until the underlying issues are addressed, this cycle will only continue.

This is also to bring up the fact that the League of Villains is genuinely strong in terms of interpersonal loyalty but as an organization with foundational core values and a unified end goal has been fractured and shaky since the beginning. We saw those particular cracks most prominently just before the fight with Gigantomachia when lack of outer conflict began to highlight the inherent lack of unity in the LoV, only to be interrupted once again when some outside force stirred up a reason for them to work together for survival. Remember, all of the current members of the League of Villains were initially attracted and recruited because Shigaraki falsely appropriated Stain’s ideology. Dabi has stated he wants a world where heroes are obligated to their families first and that thinking of the misery he’s left the survivors of killed heroes “drives him crazy.” Toga wants a world where she has a network of unconditional support without feeling repressed. Twice wants a world in which he can trust others and be trusted and useful despite his bad luck and occasional mistakes. Spinner has clarified he needs a cause to believe in and fight for that supports outcasts like him, and Mr. Compress’s reasons for joining the League are simply to challenge the current status quo instead of mindlessly embracing it.

Shigaraki’s nihilistic dystopia of “burn everything to the ground” is not necessary to achieve any of these goals, and if enough confidence in alternative solutions and doubts in Shiguraki’s loyalty grows in the minds of each member of the League it could genuinely fall apart at the seams, though that isn’t to say that the League isn’t an incredibly tight knit and loyal group - quite the opposite, they’ve constantly shown to be willing to risk life and limb for each others’ sake - just that they’re more concerned with tearing down the current order than restructuring a cohesive new one. However, if the context around their unity has genuinely shifted to center around Shigaraki himself as a symbolic leader as it's been implied since the fight with Gigantomachia and the MLA, this will be clarified very quickly.

Even for most other villains we’ve encountered through the series this violence-first upheaval of society is not necessary to realize most of their goals. Gentle Criminal sought to shake up heroes’ apathy and overconfidence in their strength - La Brava following him closely because of her unwavering loyalty to him as a person - and even Stain was not opposed to the concept of heroes, just an institution of heroism that breeds greed and apathy instead of elevating the ideals of heroism. 

There have been exceptions like the Shie Hassaikai (who sought a complete erasure of quirks from the human genome) and the initial ideology of the Meta Liberation Army (a world ruled by the strong with completely unimpeded use of quirks) that would have required an entire shift in society on a cultural, governmental, legislative, and economic level; but for most the heart of their issues with society is an issue of the heart - that is, a cultural shift is necessary first and foremost to alleviate the problems each of these criticisms address.

This drastic but necessary change has been difficult to achieve up until this point because most of the mouthpieces for these cultural criticisms are either not weighty enough to carry traction without the threat of violence or are held by those motivated by personal vengeance who are not guaranteed to sit and talk  about peaceful options even if the opportunity was presented to them. The “outsiders” are so deeply ostracized in the current social and political climate that they can’t get a word in edgewise to those “inside” who go mostly unaffected by the shortcomings the outcasts are attempting to bring to light. This is where the series’ proposed solution enters the stage.

#bnha meta #mha meta #BNHA Chapter 264 #MHA Chapter 264 #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #long post

[raghavendra-sanjeevarao]

Anti-Circumvention law (ACL) in India.

An Original or Creative expression of the work by an author in a tangible form is protected under copyright law. “Work” means any literary, dramatic, musical or artistic work, cinematograph film, sound recording. The author  is entitled for exclusive rights such as  Reproduction, Compilation, Adaptation and Translation. 

Said Exclusive Rights has certain exceptions in the form of fair use, first sale, compulsory licensing etc. And the rationale seems behind these exceptions is to maintain balance between the exclusive rights of authors and the rights of public to use such copyrighted work.

Advent of Digital Technology has created vibrations in the copyright laws across the globe and has given rise to new concept called ‘digital copyright’ which has come to stay, and flip of the other side the internet and computer technology allows doing anything to said digitised contents instantaneously, thus giving raise to uncontrolled piracy and laws almost became ineffective to contain piracy and infringements of copyrighted works. Hence DRM technology was popularised by the content industry as an effective measure to secure the digital content, its management, distribution and promotion on the cyberspace. Thus the same is termed as Digital Rights Management ('DRM') 

DRM or TPM engrosses the description, layering, examining, appraising, trading & scrutinising of the rights over an individual or organisation's property; both in substantial and digital form.

In this regard one of the major international instruments is Trade Related Intellectual Property Rights [TRIPs] Agreement, which has emerged as a basic framework for ensuring minimum set of rules for global IPR protection under the system of world trade organization [WTO]. Other major treaties like WIPO Copyright Treaty [WCT], WIPO Performances and Phonograms Treaty (WPPT) (called as Internet Treaties) not only recognizes international Intellectual Property but also provided legal recognition of said DRM measures adopted to prevent circumvention of digital works of the copyright owners. 

Invariably the said International treaties were adopted by several countries including India. Though India had not signed said Internet Treaties, but gave effect to said treaties and passed  Copyright (Amendments) Act, 2012, among other amendments, one of the key amendment is introduction of  S.65A and 65B which prohibits circumvention of effective technology measures and misuse of information management systems. However on 4.7.2018 the Union Cabinet did proposed to accede the said Internet treaties. Lets read the said sections as it is:

Section 65A.Protection of technological measures.

Any person who circumvents an effective technological measure applied for the purpose of protecting any of the rights conferred by this Act, with the intention of infringing such rights, shall be punishable with imprisonment which may extend to two years and shall also be liable to fine.

Nothing in sub-section (1) shall prevent any person from (a) doing anything referred to therein for a purpose not expressly prohibited by this Act: Provided that any person facilitating circumvention by another person of a technological measure for-such a purpose shall maintain a complete record of such other person including his name, address and all relevant particulars necessary to identify him and the purpose for which he has been facilitated; or (b) doing anything necessary to conduct encryption research using a lawfully obtained encrypted copy; or(c) conducting any lawful investigation; or(d) doing anything necessary for the purpose of testing the security of a computer system or a computer network with the authorisation of its owner; or(e) operator; or (f) doing anything necessary to circumvent technological measures intended for identification or surveillance of a user; or (g) taking measures necessary in the interest of national security.

Section 65B-Protection of Rights Management Information.

Any person, who knowingly,—

(i) removes or alters any rights management information without authority, or

(ii) distributes, imports for distribution, broadcasts or communicates to the public, without authority, copies of any work, or performance knowing that electronic rights management information has been removed or altered without authority, shall be punishable with imprisonment which may extend to two years and shall also be liable to fine:

Provided that if the rights management information has been tampered with in any work, the owner of copyright in such work may also avail of civil remedies provided under Chapter XII against the persons indulging in such acts.

Creator’s Interest  Vs  Public Interest, and ACL

No doubt DRM and and its legal protection by way of ACL lays down a strong protection to the digital copyright content, at the same time it deprives the free use rights of the public over such copyrighted works and thus demands an effective and practicable solution.

If the content is digitally locked and the public are compelled to subscribe to gain access, will result into a situation where general public may not venture into such access such content and may not contribute their valuable comments, news reports, teaching etc, and other factors which makes difficult for public to access digital content include  high cost of DRM content and complication in accessing the content, technical and privacy issues etc, which ultimately affect progress of science and technology and growth of knowledge. 

No doubt law provides exceptions to circumvent such DRM contents, but how far those exceptions are feasible and generally no person takes the risk of choosing to circumvent the protected measures by using the circumventing tools, create logs, or seeking permissions,  or maintain information etc, which were not the case when compared to copyrighted materials which were made available offline in physical mode, thus right to receive information and free speech which are fundamental rights under the constitution is largely affected. The chilling effect of said laws across the globe was very well felt when researchers like Professor Edward Felten, and arrest of Russian programmer Dmitry Sklyarov faced threat of prosecution when they conducted research and exposed the loopholes in DRMs.

The anti circumvention laws is best suited to developed countries but developing countries like India, ACL may affect access to information,  knowledge growth or growth of science and technology as stated above. 

No doubt Information is money and copyrighted works needs protections from piracy, in view of presence of hacking tools and Darknet which has made it very easy to access DRM protected works on a throw away price. it is also a relevant factor to consider that even piracy and infringements have its own advantages, such acts have thus created jobs, brought popularity of authors inspiring them to contribute more leading to development of science and technology and benefiting the society and economy. 

To conclude, the Legislative Reforms must always be supported by effective policy backing with historical, cultural and democratic considerations, and also comparative approach of different legal jurisdiction across the globe may help in evolving best practice model thus justifies the very purpose of legal reformation, and in the absence of the same, law may fail in passing the Legislative Impact Assessment and may pose new legal and constitutional challenges to accentuate its presence with force fo law. 

Hence an effective legal reformation of anti-circumvention law always depends on good policy, research, etc., to suit the changing pace of society and technology without compromising the development of science and technology.

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

Resources::

Foged, T., ‘US v EU anti circumvention legislation: preserving the public’s privileges in the digital age?’ , (2002) EIPR 24(11) 525-542, p527

JE Cohen, ‘WIPO Copyright Treaty Implementation in the United States: Will Fair Use Survive’ [1999] EIPR 21, 236–247.

WW Fisher and W McGreveran, The Digital Learning Challenge: Obstacles to Educational Uses of Copyrighted Material in the Digital Age, a Foundational White Paper, p. 70: http://cyber.law.harvard.edu/media/files/copyrightandeducation.html. Accessed on 23.11.2017.

Dr Kalyan C. Kankanala, Anti-Circumvention laws to Protect Digital Rights: An Indian Perspective, 2007

[seymour-butz-stuff]

After dropping out of the 2020 race and backing his former rival, Vermont Senator Bernie Sanders said he believes the vast majority of his supporters will back Joe Biden in November. Although Sanders acknowledged that "everybody in American knows" how different the two are, he stressed the "choice is pretty clear" when deciding between Biden and President Donald Trump.

Sanders spoke to "CBS This Morning" co-host Tony Dokoupil in his first network TV interview since endorsing Biden to discuss their ideological differences andwhere he expects Biden to adopt a more progressive stance.

The Vermont senator was also asked about other concerns some supporters have, including a sexual assault allegation against Biden. His accuser reportedly filed a police report last week, now claiming Biden assaulted her in 1993 when she was working in his Senate office. Published reports indicate her story has changed over the years. Biden's campaign called the allegation "untrue" and said the alleged incident "absolutely did not happen."

Bernie Sanders: On day one of my campaign, what I said is that, "If I lose, I will be there to support the Democratic nominee." Because it is absolutely imperative that we defeat Donald Trump, who, in my view, is the most dangerous, irresponsible president in the modern history of this country.

Tony Dokoupil: That's an argument against Donald Trump. But making the argument for Joe Biden is a different matter.

Sanders: To defeat Donald Trump, to me, and make sure that he is not reelected, is enormously important. So if you wanna make the point that Joe Biden's views are not mine, no kidding. I think everybody in America knows that.

Dokoupil:  I made a little list of some of the things that have been central to your campaign, and I'm hoping you let me know which of these you think could be part of a Biden administration. Universal health care is a biggie. Free college for all, canceled college debt, national rent control, a ban on fracking, a wealth tax, marijuana legalization, a 50% reduction in the prison population - these are all things you've campaigned on that have made you popular. Joe Biden doesn't support any of them. Which do you see him moving on?

Sanders:  Well, I think you will see him moving on making public colleges and universities tuition-free for families earning less than $125,000, not where I was. I wanted more… I think his views on climate change are not my views. But I think he is prepared to invest many hundreds of billions of dollars into sustainable energies like wind and solar and, in the process, create a whole lot of jobs… I think on health care he is not an advocate of Medicare For All, as I am. But I think he's prepared to come forward with some ideas.

Dokoupil: Has he promised you anything?

Sanders: Well, we have talked about a number of issues. And you will see those evolving, coming out, I believe, in the next weeks and months.

Dokoupil: Joe Biden is gonna need every vote that he can get. How do you improve on your 2016 record to make sure that-

Sanders: My 2016 record was a fine record… in this house right here I got a couple of letters from Hillary Clinton, thanking me for the very strong support that I gave her. I did rally after rally, state after state… Look, the issue is that the American people are gonna have to make a fundamental decision. I'm gonna play a role in that. Do we come together to defeat somebody who is a pathological liar, somebody who does not believe in the rule of law, somebody who is prepared to give massive tax breaks to billionaires and ignore the needs of working families, or do we elect Joe Biden as president? I think the choice is pretty clear.

Dokoupil: I imagine that you will be fundraising for Joe Biden?

Sanders: Well, we will decide on what we're gonna do with fundraising. All I would say is that we're gonna do everything that we can to make sure that Donald Trump is not reelected.

Dokoupil: How do you campaign in the midst of this pandemic? Should there be conventions? Can you have rallies in the late summer, maybe?

Sanders: Well, nobody can predict that… The last thing that we want do is to do anything which gets more people sick and kills more people. That is the last thing that we wanna do… So I think that whether or not there'll be a convention remains to be seen… I don't know nor does anybody else, when rallies will be taking place, when candidates will be able to be out on the streets, shaking hands and talking to people face to face. Nobody knows that.

Dokoupil: I think it's indisputable that this virus has exposed how medically and financially fragile many sectors of our society are.

Sanders: That's right.

Dokoupil: In that tragedy, and our response to it, do you think society may reevaluate the need for the policies you've been arguing for, for 30 years now?

Sanders: The answer is yes. This pandemic, the economic collapse, has exposed the fragility of our health care system and our economy in terms of protecting working families. That is a lesson that I think many Americans are gonna learn from this.

Dokoupil: One of your most important allies, Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, said recently that she thinks it's legitimate and relevant to talk about sexual assault allegations against Joe Biden. Do you agree?

Sanders: I think it's relevant to talk about anything. And I think any woman who feels that she was assaulted has every right in the world to stand up and make her claims.

Dokoupil:  Do you think that should weigh significantly in the mind of-

Sanders:  I think that she has the right to make her claims and get a public hearing, and the public will make their own conclusions about it. I just don't know enough about it to comment further.

#2

[tipsycad147]

Different Types of Witchcraft

Many just beginning their studies of Magick think that there is only one Witchcraft, that being Wicca.

Why magick and not magic? The answer is quite simple…magic is what Copperfield and other illusionists perform. Magick is true, not an illusion. I will never forget the intense surge of power I felt vibrating in my body the first time I practised magick, and I get that same feeling every time.

I believe it is important for beginners to realise that their are many more paths one can follow. By learning about different ones, it can not only enrich your knowledge, but even guide you towards a path that’s best suited for you. It is common for people use the terms Witchcraft and Wicca interchangeably. Whether they are different or just a way of describing the same thing depends on which Witch you ask. Either way you look at it, there is more than one path or tradition. The following are just a few descriptions of some of the most common.

Alexandrian:

Founded in England during the 1960’s by Alexander Sanders, self-proclaimed “King of the Witches”. An offshoot of Gardnerian, Alexandrian covens focus strongly upon training, emphasizing on areas more generally associated with ceremonial magic, such as Qabalah, Angelic Magic and Enochian. The typical Alexandrian coven has a hierarchical structure, and generally meets on weekly, or at least on Full Moons, New Moons and Sabbats. Rituals are usually done skyclad.

Most Alexandrian covens will allow non-initiates to attend circles, usually as a “neophyte,” who undergoes basic training in circle craft prior to being accepted for the 1st degree initiation. Alexandrian Wicca uses essentially the same tools and rituals as Gardnerian Wicca, though in some cases, the tools are used differently, and the rituals have been adapted. Another frequent change is to be found in the names of deities and guardians of the Quarters. In some ways these differences are merely cosmetic, but in others, there are fundamental differences in philosophy. Over the last 30 years, the two traditions have moved slowly towards each other, and the differences which marked lines of demarcation are slowly fading away.

Celtic:

The Celtic path is really many traditions under the general heading of “Celtic.” It encompasses Druidism, Celtic Shamanism, Celtic Wicca or Witta, the Grail Religion, and Celtic Christianity or Culdees. Each path is unique and stand alone meld together with another and still be part of the Celtic tradition. It is primarily derived from the ancient pre Christian Celtic religion of Gaul and the British Isles.

As it is practiced today, most of the Celtic paths are part of the Neo-Pagan revival, focusing on Nature and healing with group and individual rituals that honour the Ancient Shining Ones and the Earth. Most are very eclectic, and hold to the Celtic myths, divinities, magic and rituals. Celtic paths are some of the more popular traditions.

Ceremonial:

Uses a great deal of Ceremonial Magick in practices. Mostly derived from the works of Aleister Crowley. Detailed rituals with a flavor of Egyptian magick are popular, as Qabalistic ritual forms.

Chaos:

Chaos magic theory says that belief is an active magical force. It emphasises flexibility of belief and the ability to consciously choose one’s beliefs, hoping to apply belief as a tool rather than seeing it as a relatively unchanging part of one’s personality. Various psychological techniques are employed in order to induce flexibility of belief. Other chaos magicians suggest that people do not need belief to work magic. Austin Osman Spare asserts in The Book of Pleasure and various other works that will formulates desire which promulgates belief.

Chaos magic was first formulated in West Yorkshire, England in the 1970s. A meeting between Peter J. Carroll and Ray Sherwin in Deptford in 1976 has been claimed as the point of emergence of chaos magic, and in 1978 Carroll and Sherwin founded the Illuminates of Thanateros, a chaos magic organisation. The Book of Results is the first book dedicated to the subject of sigilisation and The Theatre of Magick in which Chaos as a separate discipline was first mentioned.

Visionary artist and mystic Austin Osman Spare, who was briefly a member of Aleister Crowley’s A∴A∴ but later broke with them to work independently, is largely the source of chaos magical theory and practice. Specifically, Spare developed the use of sigils and the use of gnosis to empower these. Most basic sigil work recapitulates Spare’s technique, including the construction of a phrase detailing the magical intent, the elimination of duplicate letters, and the artistic recombination of the remaining letters to form the sigil. Although Spare died before chaos magick emerged, many consider him to be the father of chaos magic because of his repudiation of traditional magical systems in favour of a technique based on gnosis.

Dianic:

This is the most feminist Craft Tradition. Most Dianic covens worship the Goddess exclusively (Diana and Artemis are the most common manifestations) and most today are women only. Rituals are eclectic; some are derived from Gardnerian and Faery traditions, while others have been created anew. Emphasis is on rediscovering and reclaiming female power and divinity, consciousness-raising, and combining politics with spirituality. The Dianic Craft included two distinct branches:

The first Dianic coven in the U.S. was formed in the late ’60s by Margan McFarland and Mark Roberts, in Dallas, Texas. This branch gives primacy to the Goddess in its theology, but honours the Horned God as Her beloved Consort. Covens include both women and men. This branch is sometimes called ‘Old Dianic,’ and there are still covens of this tradition specially in Texas. Other coven, similar in theology but not directly descended from the McFarland/Roberts line are sprinkled around the country.

The other branch, Feminist Dianic Witchcraft, focuses exclusively on the Goddess and consists of women-only covens, often with a strong lesbian presence. These tend to be loosely structured and non-hierarchical, using consensus decision making and simple, creative, experimental ritual. They are politically feminist groups, usually very supportive, personal and emotionally intimate. The major network is Re-Formed Congregation of the Goddess. Z Budapest founded the Susan B. Anthony Coven in 1971, declaring Dianic Witchcraft to be “Wimmin’s Religion”. The Women’s Spirituality Forum was Founded by Z Budapest in 1986, and is dedicated to bringing Goddess consciousness to the mainstream of feminist consciousness through lectures and, retreats, classes, cable TV shows, and rituals in the effort to achieve spiritual and social liberation.

Draconic Wicca:

Draconic Wicca is the utilization of the powers of the dragons. There are as many dragons as there are people. They are as varied as humans are also. We work with these dragons to achieve the results that we seek. In doing so, we have to deal with the unique personalities of each type of dragon. The dragons have no real hierarchy other than age, except for the case of The Dragon. The Dragon is the combined powers of the God and the Goddess. The Dragon is invoked or evoked during Sabbats and in times when great magick is needed (not when you can not find your keys). Invoking means to call into you the power of the dragon that you name i.e. a fire dragon. You ask that this dragon assume himself/herself into your spiritual body. To evoke means to call a dragon to you, to join you in your magickal workings.

Eclectic:

Refers to groups and individuals who do not fully adhere to one specific form of Paganism. They choose to incorporate some beliefs, practices, rituals etc, of a few, or many paths to form a unique one that suits their spiritual needs. Gypsy magic tends to fall into this category.

Faery/Faerie/Fairy/Feri:

Victor and Cora Anderson are the original teachers of the Feri Tradition. Victor is universally recognised as the Grand Master of his order of Feri. He was initiated in 1926 by a priestess from Africa. He is also one of the last genuine Kahuna. His book of poetry, Thorns of the Blood Rose, is considered a contemporary Pagan classic.

In 1959, Victor initiated the late Gwydion Pendderwen (age 13 at the time), who later became a leading voice in the Feri Tradition. Gwydion concentrated on the Welsh Celtic aspects; whereas Victor and Cora still practice the tradition as it was originally, with Huna and African diasporic influences, primarily Dahomean-Haitian. The Feri Tradition honours the Goddess and Her son, brother and lover (The Divine Twins) as the primary creative forces in the universe. The Gods are seen as real spirit beings like ourselves, not merely aspects of our psyche.

It is an ecstatic, rather than fertility tradition, emphasising on polytheism, practical magic, self-development and theurgy. Strong emphasis is placed on sensual experience and awareness,including sexual mysticism, which is not limited to heterosexual expression. This is a mystery tradition of power, mystery, danger, ecstasy, and direct communication with divinity. Most initiates are in the arts and incorporate their own poetry, music and invocations into rituals.

The Tradition is gender-equal, and all sexual orientations seem able to find a niche. According to Francesca De Grandis, founder of the 3rd Road branch: “Faerie power is not about a liturgy but about one’s body: a Fey shaman’s blood and bones are made of stars and Faerie dust. A legitimate branch of Faerie is about a personal vision that is the Fey Folks’ gift to a shaman.”

Initially small and secretive, many of the fundamentals of the Tradition have reached a large audience trough the writings of Starhawk, the most famous initiate. Some secret branches remain. While only a few hundred initiates can trace their lineage directly to Victor Anderson, many thousands are estimated to practice neo-Faery Traditions.

Gardnerian:

This is a closed initiatory Tradition which was founded in England ca 1953 by Gerald Gardner and further developed by Doreen Valiente and others. Gardner was initiated into a coven of Witches in the New Forest region of England in 1939 by a High Priestess named ‘Old Dorothy’ Clutterbuck. In 1949 he wrote High Magic’s Aid, a novel about medieval Witchcraft in which quite a bit of the Craft as practised by the coven was used.

In 1951 the last of the English laws against Witchcraft were repealed (primarily due to to the pressure of Spiritualists) and Gardner published Witchcraft Today, which set forth a version of rituals and traditions of that coven.

Gardner gave his Tradition a ritual framework strongly influenced by Freemasonry and Crowleyan ceremonial magic, as well as traditional folk magic and Tantric Hinduism. The Tradition was brought to the USA in 1965 by Raymond & Rosemary Buckland, who were initiated in 1964 by the Gardner’s High Priestess, Lady Olwen.

Gardnerian covens are always headed by a High Priestess and have three degrees of initiation closely paralleling the Masonic degrees. Worship is centered on the Goddess and the Horned God. The tradition emphasises polarity in all things, fertility, and the cycle of birth-death-rebirth. Eight seasonal Sabbats are observed, and the Wiccan Rede is the guiding principle. Power is raised through scourging and sex magick (“The Great Rite”), as well as meditation, chanting, astral projection, dancing, wine and cords. Designed for group/coven work, through solitary workings have been created. Covens work skyclad.

Shamanic Witchcraft:

This term refers to practices associated with those of tribal shamans in traditional Pagan cultures throughout the world. A shaman combines the roles of healer, priest (ess), diviner, magician, teacher and spirit guide, utilising altered states of consciousness to produce and control psychic phenomena and travel to and from the spirit realm. Followers of this path believe that historical Witchcraft was the shamanic practice of European Pagans; and Medieval Witches actually functioned more as village shamans than as priests and priestesses of :the Old Religion.”

Shamanic Witchcraft emphasises serving the wider community through rituals, herbalism, spell craft, healings, counselling, rites of passage, handfastings, Mystery initiations, etc. The distinguishing element of Shamanic Witchcraft is the knowledge and sacramental use of psychotropic plants to effect transitions between worlds. The theory and practice of Shamanic Witchcraft has permeated widely though out many other established Traditions.

Stregheria:

Stregheria is the form of witchcraft native to Italy; there are several distinct traditions sharing common roots, in various parts of Italy. Also called, La Vecchia Religione, Stregheria is a nature-based religion, it’s followers worship the forces of Nature, personified as gods and goddesses. The witches of La Vecchia Religione are called Streghe (plural), with the title Strega (for a female), Stregone (for a male).

Stregheria is rooted in the folk religion of the Latins (the Romans being one Latin people) and the Etruscans. In the particular tradition, taught by Raven Grimassi in Ways of the Strega, the pantheon is different from the urban gods of the Romans, though some of those deities were shared with the Latins, and the Etruscans, most notably Diana, whose worship was focused at a temple at Lake Nemi in the Alban Hills. There are however other traditions of Stregheria in Italy, who may worship the urban gods of the Romans.

The particular tradition taught by Raven Grimassi in Ways of the Strega, is derived from a renewal that occurred in the 14th century brought about by a wise woman from Tuscany called Aradia. This does not imply that witchcraft in Italy began in the 14th century. La Vecchia Religione is an evolution of pre-christian religions in Italy. The tradition taught by Aradia was a revival of the Old Ways during a time of extreme persecution of the peasants of Italy.

Wiccan Shamanism:

Founded by Selena Fox in the 1980’s. Ecumenical and multicultural focus. Combination of Wicca, humanistic psychology and a variety of shamanistic practices from around the world. Emphasis on healing. Uses traditional shamanistic techniques to change consciousness, such as drumming and ecstatic dancing.

https://shirleytwofeathers.com/The_Blog/bookofshadows/book-of-shadows/different-types-of-witchcraft/

[theliberaltony]

via Politics – FiveThirtyEight

On July 23, 1974, Rep. Lawrence Hogan, Sr., a Republican on the House Judiciary Committee, bought airtime on TV networks across his home state of Maryland. He had a big announcement to share: Hogan was the first Republican on the House Judiciary Committee to publicly say he would vote to impeach Nixon. It was just over two weeks before Nixon would announce his resignation, and the Judiciary Committee was poised to approve three articles of impeachment against the president — except nobody knew that yet.

Today, as another impeachment drama unfolds, it’s easy to see Republicans like Hogan, who were willing to break ranks with their party, as a fundamental difference between Watergate and today. And it’s true that Republicans are currently staying in President Trump’s corner. But while we tend to focus on the bipartisan rebellion that led to Nixon’s resignation, it’s also worth understanding how public opinion and the party eventually turned against the president.

Support for impeachment had grown slowly over the course of 1974, but there still wasn’t an overwhelming public consensus behind it until right before Nixon left office in early August. And Republican support for Nixon had remained mostly strong, even in the face of a scandal that consumed his second term. As the truth about the scope of Nixon’s misconduct emerged, though, impeachment became increasingly popular and the president lost even his most fervent defenders in Congress. Of course, there are many differences between the Nixon impeachment and the Democrats’ current inquiry, which is still in its early stages, and each impeachment investigation will unfold differently. But as today’s Republicans are scrutinized for signs that they might turn on Trump, it’s important to remember that even in Watergate, it took more than a year of investigation — and a lot of evidence against Nixon — to reach the point where Republicans like Hogan were voting for impeachment.

Impeachment wasn’t popular until right before Nixon resigned

When the House of Representatives voted in February 1974 to give the House Judiciary Committee subpoena power to investigate Nixon, it did not have the weight of public opinion behind it. According to a poll conducted by Gallup just days before the vote, only 38 percent of Americans were in favor of impeachment. And although a solid majority of Americans did eventually come to support impeachment, that moment didn’t arrive until quite late in the game.

But this didn’t mean the public wasn’t souring on Nixon as the Watergate scandal unfolded. After winning a sweeping victory in the 1972 election, the president began his second term with an approval rating around 60 percent, according to FiveThirtyEight’s tracker of presidential approval. Then that spring saw a stunning 30-point drop in Nixon’s support starting around when one of the people charged with breaking into the Democratic National Committee headquarters confessed to a judge that he and the other conspirators had been pressured to stay silent.

Support for Nixon continued to plunge throughout the long summer of 1973, while former White House lawyer John Dean testified in Senate hearings that the president had been involved in a cover-up of the burglary and a White House aide confirmed in closed-door testimony that Nixon had set up a secret White House taping system. And by the time of October’s Saturday Night Massacre — where Nixon ordered the firing of special prosecutor Archibald Cox, who had been demanding those tapes, and the closing of the special prosecutor’s investigation — his approval rating had plunged to 27 percent, which is about where it stayed until Nixon resigned.

As Nixon’s approval ratings fell, support for impeachment was rising more gradually, reaching solid majority support by early August 1974. That was right in the midst of the crucial two-week period when the Supreme Court ordered Nixon to turn over the White House tapes, the House Judiciary Committee voted to approve three articles of impeachment and Nixon released the transcript of what became known as the “smoking gun” tape, which showed that he had helped orchestrate the cover-up. His support among his allies (who had included some conservative southern Democrats as well as Republicans) had already started to erode significantly, but it was the “smoking gun” tape that finally forced his resignation on August 8, before the House could vote on impeachment. At that point, the public was clearly behind impeachment, although a significant minority of Americans — including most Republicans — still didn’t think Nixon should be removed from office.

Most Republicans in Congress took a long time to break with Nixon

So why did it take most Republicans so long to break with Nixon? There was a growing bipartisan sense of alarm about his actions, especially in the wake of the Saturday Night Massacre, as a handful of Republicans in Congress called for Nixon’s resignation. Even some party leaders and staunch Nixon defenders, like Sen. Barry Goldwater, criticized the president’s handling of the scandal, although their rebukes still fell short of calling for impeachment. The House’s vote to formally open an impeachment inquiry in February 1974 was almost unanimous.

Republicans generally saw the inquiry as legitimate, but that didn’t mean they had lost faith in Nixon. “Many remained vocal in support of the president, saying he was innocent,” said Timothy Naftali, a presidential historian at New York University and the former director of the Nixon presidential library. “Others were more judicious, waiting for the evidence to come out.”

Eventually, several of the more moderate Republicans on the House Judiciary Committee, including Hogan, were convinced by the evidence against Nixon and voted for at least one of the articles of impeachment in July 1974. As the chart below shows, three of the articles of impeachment passed with varying levels of support from Republicans and conservative Democrats, although a significant number of conservative Republicans remained in Nixon’s camp. The final two articles of impeachment, which centered on the secret bombing of Cambodia that began in 1969 and charges of tax fraud against Nixon, were not approved.

Some of the Republican defense of Nixon probably boiled down to party loyalty, according to Jeffrey Engel, a presidential historian at Southern Methodist University. “For a long time, they just weren’t going to pull the trigger on a duly elected president from their own party,” he said. Republicans also faced pressure from a small but powerful group of activists who were vehemently opposed to Nixon’s impeachment and were aggressively lobbying their representatives not to abandon him. “Increasingly, [Republican leadership] thought it would be better for the party if Nixon could be persuaded to go,” said Mark Nevin, a history professor at Ohio University Lancaster who has studied Republican support for Nixon at the end of his presidency. “But nobody wanted to be the one who pushed him out.”

It also took a while for all of the evidence to emerge, and ultimately, the scope of Nixon’s wrongdoing helped convince some of the Judiciary Committee Republicans to break ranks, in spite of pressure from leadership to maintain a united front in support of Nixon. “It wasn’t a single act that moved them — it was the pattern of corruption by the president,” Naftali said. Nixon’s support was crumbling by the time the Judiciary Committee voted on impeachment, but he didn’t lose the full support of his party until the “smoking gun” tape clearly implicated him in the Watergate cover-up, at which point he lost even the Republicans on the committee who had voted against impeachment. Two days after the transcript of the tape became public, Goldwater led a delegation to the White House to tell Nixon it was over.

It’s hard to imagine what such a “smoking gun” would look like today, in part because the Democrats’ investigations are still in the information-gathering stage, but it does seem that we haven’t arrived there yet. One important difference between the Nixon era and today: Trump hasn’t really denied the allegations against him, while several historians told me that many Republicans probably believed Nixon was telling the truth about his lack of involvement in the cover-up. The shock of discovering just how much Nixon had misled them was also an important factor.

“It was an enormous betrayal for some of Nixon’s allies when they realized that he had been lying the whole time,” Engel said. “Because it meant they had been lying too.”

Partisanship can be a powerful barrier to impeachment

One of the oft-cited lessons of Watergate is that impeaching a president requires a bipartisan effort. And in the end, it did. Republicans voted with Democrats to subpoena Nixon and to approve the articles of impeachment, which was a significant political risk. But focusing only on that part of the saga doesn’t account for how strongly many Republicans defended their president throughout most of the investigation. “The Nixon case shows that seemingly intractable partisan disagreement over impeachment can give way if the president’s conduct is bad enough and the proof of it is clear enough,” said Joshua Matz, a constitutional lawyer and the co-author of “To End a Presidency: The Power of Impeachment.” “But it also shows that this is a high barrier, and it didn’t happen until awfully late in the process.”

At several points, according to Nevin’s research, Goldwater and other prominent Republicans considered pushing Nixon to resign, but instead continued to defend him because they were afraid of a backlash from his supporters. “Some Republicans were actually relieved when the tape came out because it was so obviously obstruction that you couldn’t come to any other conclusion,” Nevin said. “It freed them from having to make what would have been a very difficult decision.”

Today some Republicans may be facing a similar dilemma: Do they ignore party allegiance and turn on the president, or double down on party loyalty?

One complicating factor here is that if Republicans were to abandon Trump, history does not suggest that Trump loyalists would easily forgive them for joining the Democrats’ impeachment effort. Even though most Americans did eventually support removing Nixon from office, Republican voters were mostly not part of that consensus. Days before he resigned, a Gallup poll found that only 31 percent of Republicans thought Nixon should no longer be president. And some of those supporters deeply resented their representatives for their role in ousting Nixon, which may even have contributed to the Democratic landslide in the 1974 midterm elections.

Of course, looking back on what happened in Watergate can’t tell us whether Trump will survive this particular scandal. Some Republicans have started to criticize Trump’s behavior, but none have taken the momentous step of supporting an impeachment inquiry. So Trump’s removal certainly doesn’t seem likely now. But if nothing else, history offers a good reminder about how challenging it is to predict the future. After all, until a few weeks before his resignation, Nixon’s fate wasn’t a foregone conclusion either.

#IFTTT #Politics – FiveThirtyEight #politics #538 #Amelia Thomson-DeVeaux

[primary-colour-hair]

Academy Director, Educator, Assessor, Master Colourist, Hairdresser & Photographer, these are some of the accolades of SRH & Master Craftsman Loretta O’Connell who has been a State Registered Hairdresser for over 15 years and a qualified stylist for 30 years. Despite living & working overseas for half of her career she actively maintains her Wella Master Colour Expert status and State Registered Hairdresser & Master Craftsman status. She is an advocate for continuing education, mandatory licensing & registration for the hairdressing & barbering industry.

During her extensive career she has grown her skills & knowledge internationally working as a stylist & educator in Bermuda for over 7 years and is currently The Education & Academy Director at the prestigious ARROJO Academy & ARROJO Cosmetology schools owned by celebrity stylist Nick Arrojo in NYC where she has lived for over 10 years.

ARROJO Cosmetology School recently celebrated its 10 year anniversary early 2019 and Loretta shared these snippets & photos with us.

Congratulations on 10 years of ARROJO Cosmetology School, how was the party?

Thanks! The party was amazing, it was a full house of staff, graduates, students, friends and hairstylists past, present & future. The energy was fantastic and the graduate presentation was inspiring; for many of them it was their first time presenting on stage so there was lot of love in the room for them. Nick gave a speech and got several key staff up on the stage to say a few words including me.

Tell us, how did you manage to get such a great job in NYC?

I always wanted to live in New York City since I first visited in 1995. I did tons of research and visited several times a year while living in Bermuda (1996-2003) and spoke to many salon owners, product companies and educators to gather knowledge and find the best companies around. Nick’s name kept coming up and everyone had such good things to say about him and the brand so I applied.

Timing is everything and he was already very focused on education as part of the brand and was looking to start a Cosmetology School where students could come to learn their craft and become licensed (qualified) I had teaching experience and my eagerness came across in my lengthy application and supporting documentation, plus we both come from the North of England and have a similar background so it seemed like a good fit for both. 

I owe my greatest success to Nick for taking a chance on me to create and grow his school & education culture and trusting me to run with it, thankfully it worked out very well for both of us!

Did you write the programs for the school?

I got the school licensed & accredited, wrote all of the Cosmetology & Barbering fundamental & advanced curriculums in cutting, colouring, styling & American Wave, hired & trained all of the staff and created all of the systems. As this was a first for the brand I had to research outside sources & organisations to build myself a team of mentors to guide, help and support me as I am responsible for every aspect of the school to the outside sources that allow the school to open & operate. Nick has a very clear vision on where he wants his school to go, how it should run and standards to uphold so it gave me a blueprint to work from. It was and continues to be the biggest learning experience of my life and I am amazed at the snippets of information I have filed away over the last 10 years.

What do you love most about New York?

I love the vibrancy & energy generated by NYC plus it is the epic centre of fashion, beauty and creativity so there is no better place to be involved in the hair industry than here. I am also a photographer so it is the perfect backdrop for capturing inspiring shots and wandering aimlessly during weekends.

Bermuda, wow how was that?

It was an amazing experience. I made some of my best friends there who are still great friends today. Hairdressing is completely different there due to the semi tropical climate and intense heat. Products react differently in high humidity so less is more, most colour services are colour correction due to the sun and the first question I asked my clients was “do you ride a bike?” (moped) as the hair needed to be either short enough to sit under the helmet or long enough to tie up, no in-between lengths! I learned to work with different hair types & textures and the true meaning of running out of colour when there was none to be found on the island! 

10 years is quite an achievement, looking back how was it?

I cannot believe it has been 10 years as at times it still feels brand new but then I look at how much the school has grown and the successes of the graduates and I can’t imagine it ever not being there. I have learned so much about topics I had no idea I needed to know about.

The graduates are my proudest moments and every day I am thankful for the amazing students who have come through the doors and trusted us for their education. I see many graduates daily as they are now part of the ARROJO Studio team (ARROJO Studio has 3 salons in NYC offering professional services for over 18 years) and to see them progress from assistant to stylist and eventually educator is truly a testament to an intense fundamentals education and working immersed in a strong education culture with structure, growth & opportunity

It didn’t happen by chance though and my strong education background meant I knew there had to be rules, regulations and discipline to create a structure for progression, growth, accountability & success. Maintaining standardization as the team & facilities grown ensures I have to continuously find new ways to connect with my team, inspire & educate them and provide opportunities for growth while holding them accountable professionally.

The school started off with a team of 2 including me and is now a 2 school facility with over 20 full time talented, enthusiastic staff & access and support from over 100 licensed stylists in 3 salons. We are proud to offer employment to so many staff in a variety of roles, have 3 fantastic salons to offer consideration for employment options to high achieving graduates plus a network of over 500+ salons as a career option for graduates depending upon what they are looking for.

You won an Award recently, tell us about that?

I was awarded the Women Making Waves Award for my contribution to the industry and my photograph is displayed in the ARROJO Tribeca Heroes Hallway alongside Nick’s industry Heroes & Mentors such as Vidal Sassoon, Horst Rechelbacher, Vivienne Mackinder, Annie Humphries and more, it is a huge honour and I am eternally grateful for the amazing opportunities my career has allowed me and proud to play such a pivotal role at ARROJO. 

How different is American hairdressing education than British?

American hairdressers need a license to practice and work towards a final state board written & practical exam upon graduation whereas British hairdressers work towards a qualification through continuous assessment.

Every state has different requirements for topics taught, guided learning hours to be clocked and criteria for completion. In New York a Cosmetology student must clock 1000 hours of learning (8 months) covering 13 different topics and pass a written & practical exam to obtain a license to work as a hairdresser. A salon is not allowed to employ anyone to touch the hair without a license therefore even shampoo assistants need to be licensed.

I worked in a local, well-known salon from the age of 16 and went to college for 2 years when I was training and felt like a “real hairdresser” when I was qualified. I then worked as an assistant for a further 12 months before being full time on the salon floor by the age of 19. I worked there for a total of 10 years and am ever Thankful for aspiring to work at quality salons that value ongoing training. 

I believe that the status of being qualified (or licensed) gives a stylist a level of quality to continually aspire to meet and exceed which is why I believe in mandatory registration to uphold & maintain standards and for quality assurance.

What is next for the ARROJO Brand?

ARROJO has been around as a brand for almost 20 years and is well known & respected throughout North America as an education brand, product company, quality brand salon and for extensive skills in razor cutting. Since I joined the team over 10 years ago the number of salons has tripled from 1 to 3, the team has more than doubled in size, there are 3 product lines within the brand and plans for growth across all aspects. Safe to say there is never a dull moment, always something happening and always opportunity for growth.

And what is next for you?

I am working on training up a team of Directors to manage all aspects of running 2 schools and expanding the team to meet the demands of a growing school facility with teaching & support team to allow me to focus on other educational aspects of the brand. 

The Advanced Education market is changing with the popularity of online education plus ARROJO now has multiple distributors who service the 500+ ARROJO Ambassador accounts across the USA to provide product & education. Currently the ARROJO Studio salon staff education team travel to multiple states on a weekly basis to teach InSalon classes & events, we are in the process of also growing an Art team from our Ambassador Salons to offer more opportunities, more local education and brand growth while maintaining quality and standards.

Personally I am also growing my photography brand to supply images to independent consumers and local businesses.  

www.picturethisphotographynyc.com

Thanks for chatting today Loretta, Congrats again, here’s to the next 10 years!  

[fit-as-fxck]

hi. I have a lengthy update and a story.

Good Evening, Friends. Here’s an update that no one asked for. I continue to feel much, much better. I can credit that to a constant, normalized sleep schedule, a reduction of the constant stress of the last three months and making sure I eat. As far as movement goes that’s exactly what I've been focusing on. m o v e m e n t. This doesn't mean always going to the gym and slamming weights around, this means moving more intuitively and listening to what I want to do and what I need (without putting too much pressure on myself to be rigid with set demands). Some days I take my dog with me to the park while I do outdoor yoga (in preparation for my outdoor classes I always do in the summer). Sometimes I meet up with a friend and hit the trails for an easy run. Sometimes, doing “nothing” is more important and takes precedence. (If you don't want to read this all skip down to the bottom for a lil story I guarantee you’ll want to read.)

Habits/personal: Every morning make it a point to tell myself I'm going to stay present today. That’s my goal. To stay present and take advantage of every moment, and yes, it comes down to actively monitoring my habits. Even things like social media and electronic use impacts us and none of us were given a manual on how to navigate this shifting terrain. So yeah, reading an actual book before bed and shutting down devices actually does make a difference on our mind and body. Sometimes, we have to set rules for ourselves depending on our lives and how we know we respond to things like this. I’m starting a gratitude journal too so that’ll be new journey for me (it’s scientifically proven to lower inflammation in the body). My life is starting to go back to “normal”, finally. I was under intense life stressors for a few months. 

Training: 

I’ve done some easy trail runs with my friend (the one who was my old gym partner). His training is ramping up significantly and mine is just now recovering so I've only been joining him on his easy recovery runs. The first one I did, my legs felt like two ton bricks. It felt like I was running through jello. I’m not embarrassed to say it was just awful. Consider that I spent since October not putting an emphasis on cardio (only some conditioning), so yeah not surprising. The good news is, it only sucks for a little bit and then it gets better. I mean, each run I do I'll never have to redo again lmao. I hate treadmill running unless I'm doing sprints. I always choose outdoor if I can. I haven't done any major strength training and I’ve probably lost a lot of strength but I'm not worried about it. Muscle has a memory. I’m ready to pick up some strength training again but my goals right now are more geared towards movement and cardio (so the strength training will be to support that). And of course, yoga. I love doing more and more of it. It just makes you feel so damn good. Plan: adding cardio in 4 times weekly. Alternating between cycling, running, trail running, moderate intensity and intervals. Finishing with a handful of lifting exercises a couple times a week to stay strong. 

Nutrition:

Like I mentioned, I am making sure to eat. And haven't been too strict about it, like, at all. I’ve been fueling on pb&j’s. (Side note: I am always making sure I keep my caffeine intake low, I feel better without it. I do half-caff coffee mostly.) I’m increasing my workouts since I'm feeling good so my nutrition is going to be shifted to support those goals. I don't want be too extreme so I'll be following an 80/20 diet. 80% clean Whole Foods and 20% Oreos and Snickers (jk). A major pitfall of mine is failing to prepare to have food when I need it. This week, and for the following weeks, I'm meal prepping everything (which I should be doing anyways *glares* @ me). I’m sticking to whole, “clean” foods and following basic nutrition principles. I’m 100% sure you can make progress on nearly any “diet” as long as you follow nutritional fundamentals. I feel better when I eat better anyways. Sometimes we have to go back to basics. Foundations are what we build everything on and any tweaks we do to that foundation are just the “fluff” on top. Don’t want that foundation to have cracks in it, do we? (SO this week I made a homemade Mac and cheese. Most times I burn everything but sometimes my attempts are a slam dunk. I made my own cheese sauce and used half noodles and half shredded cauliflower to increase the volume and MAN IT WAS BOMB. YOU GOTTA TRY IT. YOU COULDNT EVEN TELL THERE WAS CAULIFLOWER IN IT. Sneaky vegetables.) Unfortunately, I'll have to cut out the Mac & cheese and pb&j’s BUT if it’s the weekend and I want a bagel, I'm gonna have a bagel (80/20 ok). I’m prepping things like grass fed beef, vegetables and sweet potates or rice etc (yes, its potates). 

Other (friends/lifestyle/inspo):

So I got a call from my gym buddy this week which I did not expect. When he started working out with me in January(?) he was what you would call “skinny-fat”, which is defined as not looking overweight but also not having any distinguishable muscle tone. Since then he’s put some serious size and strength and totally upped his cardio game. I started him out on some basic training and knowledge and then he continued on his own. When he called me he told me a man approached him in the gym and asked what he was training for. He told him he was training for an iron man (his overall bucket list goal). This is a hefty goal considering he started at ground zero. BUT everyone starts at zero and he is young and you won’t see me telling him he can’t do it. You can do anything you put your mind to. My friend told the guy about how he went down to 135 pounds at his thinnest (dude is like over 6 feet tall) and then went up 65 pounds at his heaviest. Well, they got to talking and this man started telling him about his friends going through BUDS training (SEAL training). And, my friend spilled the beans. He told him that he hadn't told anyone yet but his overall goal was to go out for the Seals. Yeah, aggressive goal. Thats when the guy told him he was special forces (ranger). He told him David Goggins was headed through town and they were all going to dinner with him. Yeah, I know, sounds odd. Anyways, this guy told him that the only difference between him and the ones that made it, was that now it was his turn to do it. That’s it. (Pretty crazy considering like 6% of people that go out for this pass). So my friend told him he “didn’t know anyone”. The guy told him that there were a ton of special forces in this area but they don’t tell you they are unless they want you to know. But, my dude meant he quite literally didn’t. know. anyone. He had lost all his friends when he found out they had different priorities and pretty much has no one around him supporting him on this, which is why he called me when he was astounded this happened. Serendipity, I guess. Put your goals out there into the world with iron conviction and the universe will find a way to meet you halfway. So this guy was 38 I think and didn’t look his age (not that 38 is old..) and told dude that he could probably smoke everyone in this gym and well, he could, based on the workouts he was doing. My friend’s jaw was on the floor with this whole interaction. He told me he was nervous and stumbling over his words and felt like he probably made an ass of himself. He apologized for it, saying he barely got any sleep and was super stressed and the guy said “Who gets sleep? And we’re all stressed.” The guy offered his advice and networking anytime dude sees him in the gym etc. 

We all come from somewhere, we all have dark, broken histories, large goals, even larger struggles etc and feel like our lives consist of constantly trying to pull it together until the day we die but, I swear, you gotta find a way to believe in yourself and even accept your failures. Whats the worst that could happen? You die trying? At least you followed your heart. Just like this dude, out of shape, stumbling, mad at himself because of slow progress but just look back three or four months... He’s strong now and the progress happened because he was patient with himself and didn’t give up even when he felt like it and he’s still not done. More power to him and anyone willing to try. Perhaps the overall goal doesn't matter as much as who we become in the act of trying (thank you Kaylo Littlejohn for that quote). Most times, people just need a positive push in the right direction. Maybe we can focus a little bit more on uplifting and being positive because that shit is contagious. 

#personal #try #iron man #special forces #gym #trail running #inspo #April 2019

[ganymedesclock]

A lot of the fandom speculates that there are parallels between Zarkon/Alfor and Shiro/Keith, particularly in the friendships these groups of people had/have with each other. I can't remember if you've talked about this before, but I was wondering if you had any thoughts on this and what this could mean for the future of Shiro and Keith's friendship?

See I think it’s kinda natural to want to see our paladins in the prior paladins since the former we know better, but… I really hesitate to say that, because I think there’s a fundamental difference to how Shiro and Zarkon relate to the world that isn’t just not the same between them, but diametrically opposed.

Roughly, Shiro and Zarkon both value- discipline, control, self-denial.

Shiro takes these traits as things he should prescribe to himself. I talk very much about Shiro as a leader and the concept of Noblesse Oblige since what it comes back to is Shiro views vested authority, the “crown” of the Black Paladin, first and foremost as a burden and a responsibility. It’s fundamentally how he sees it.

If you are Black Paladin, you have an obligation to be a worthy person. The Black Lion has trusted you, your allies have trusted you, and their trust and loyalty is a debt that must be repaid, with earnest and continuous effort. A king is only as worthy as what he will do for his subjects- and in that sense Shiro tries to live as he thinks his position begets- he’s the guy to jump on a grenade for the team because if you’re in charge you should be that person. And this is his attitude about leadership in general.

People point out it was unlike him in s3e6 to tell Keith to let Sincline shoot him in order to destroy the cargo ship, but the thing is, in s3e6 and s4e1, Shiro’s trying to groom Keith to be in his position. He’s not oblivious to, or not upset at Keith’s pain. The thing is if it was him in that cockpit he’d make that sacrifice, take a direct hit to the Black Lion if he thought it would make it work. He can’t- he’s benched, forced to the sidelines, and because of that he tries to take control of a situation that same way, that he sees as needing that sacrifice- by projecting onto Keith.

Shiro’s only cold and demanding with people he projects himself, or his own perceived role onto. In s3e6 thru s4e1, that’s Keith- just like in s2e10 that’s Slav.

Zarkon is Shiro’s polar opposite, and was from the start. Because the thing in s3e7 that we see, is while Shiro (as he spells out in s1e4 and exemplifies later in s3e5) views leadership as a responsibility and loyalty to that leader to be a choice, that he cannot and will not lead someone who doesn’t want to follow him- Zarkon believes that entire categories of people exist naturally as followers.

Simply put, Zarkon’s classism factors immensely into his view of what it means to be a leader. There are strong people- nobility- that force their way to the top. And there are weak people- everyone else- that are fated from birth to belong to the strong. These categories are non-negotiable and fatalistic. Servants do not become kings, nor kings servants. In s2e8, the way that Zarkon talks to Shiro, in my opinion, makes it very clear that he’s basically incapable of viewing Shiro as anything other than the slave gladiator he first met him as. He characterizes Shiro as weak, when Shiro endured horrifying brutal things for an entire year without breaking.

Zarkon will not make sacrifices for his subordinates. Instead, his perspective is that the natural order is that his subordinates will sacrifice everything for him. He preaches Victory or Death but pulls back in s4e6 rather than risk his personal ship.

How does this come back to their relationships with their respective right hand?

Both of them are very close, but in completely different ways.

While we don’t know how Shiro and Keith met, we can draw some inferences. Keith states Shiro was “the one person who never gave up on me.” We know that before meeting Shiro, before coming to the Garrison, Keith was entirely on his own, and he’s still processing a lot of trauma that he perceives himself as fundamentally unlovable and unwanted.

Keith really doesn’t have a social sphere outside of Shiro. He’s coming to build one with the paladins, but slowly- he’s both clumsy with interpersonal relations and to a degree, utterly terrified of them. He’s starved for closeness and connection to such a degree that part of him can’t really believe it when it’s there.

Consider what I just said about how Shiro views leadership, and to a degree, a lot of his connections- since he’s very much a kind of natural leader who gravitates towards those positions reflexively in times of strife.

Shiro’s a mom friend. He’s a therapist friend. He commits very hard to being a shoulder to cry on, a confidant where it’s needed, a protector, a caretaker. Again, he’s the kind of guy that will jump on a grenade for his team and more than a sense of distant responsibility, it’s rooted in the fact that he just genuinely, deeply, cares. He’s charismatic and connects to people easily with his natural strength of personality but once there, he wants to tend and nurture his connections.

Keith- with his network of loneliness and trauma and isolation, would have latched onto anybody that could help him keep his head above the water. In s2e1 he says “If it weren’t for you my life would’ve been a lot different” which raises the implication he was on the precipice of… something very nasty. (considering this kid is way too comfortable throwing his life away for anything he perceives as a sufficiently worthy cause…)

But Shiro? I think Shiro latched onto Keith as someone who he wanted to take care of. He met Keith, and he saw how much Keith needed… anyone to care, and to Shiro, that simple fact that “someone has to watch out for this kid” immediately in his mind leaps to “I have to do this.”

So there’s something mentorly about their connection, and it’s definitely worth saying that Shiro does think very highly of Keith, he doesn’t just view him as a lost cause. He has a lot of faith in Keith as a person, and sees him as an amazing and talented person.

At the same time, there’s a feeling- especially with the missing year and his own newfound trauma, Shiro doesn’t really realize quite how much he means to Keith. His helping Keith out of that dark period fostered a profound desire to see Keith grow and thrive, but, as far as he’s concerned, there’s no debt here. Keith’s probably come very far since when Shiro met him, but what I don’t think Shiro quite realizes at this point is that Keith is definitely still holding onto Shiro as his comfort person. And from Keith’s perspective- the idea of not having Shiro around is the idea of going right back to the same dark place he was in before meeting Shiro.

He’s not entirely right about that, because we see in s3 that without Shiro there, Keith actually is able to move on- and the degree to which he’s able to even seems to scare him, and he reacts guiltily as if this very prospect of moving on without Shiro is repeating the hurtful things others have done to him onto Shiro.

What it boils down to is Shiro and Keith are extremely close. They’re kinda fire-forged friends because Shiro came into Keith’s life at one of its darkest chapters and helped him up, and since then, Keith has earned great esteem in Shiro’s eyes as an amazing person. If there’s anyone Shiro sees as worthy of being a leader the way that Shiro thinks is called for, it’s Keith- Keith is someone who could carry that weight, and that’s not a shallow compliment.

As far as Zarkon and Alfor…

The first thing about Alfor is he is a hell of a lot more grounded than Keith is and you can see this at a glance. Keith, again, had nobody in his life besides Shiro and his psychological landscape has some pretty deep craters as a result- while Alfor we see was a beloved leader, a family man, surrounded by his adoring wife and advisor, having a good connection with the rest of the team. We see him exploring Gyrgan’s culture, which would even suggest that Alfor may have built separate alliances with the other planets separately from his alliance with Zarkon.

Alfor is much more connected, and a lot more anchored and stable. He’s sure of himself of a way that Keith isn’t, and I think in that sense, even if he has great affection and respect for Zarkon, they’re both more distant, and more independent.

Alfor has his own world Zarkon isn’t really part of and even faced with setbacks, he tries to emphasize his self-sufficiency “I was handling myself.” The ways that we see Alfor hold Zarkon in high esteem is that he respects Zarkon’s military capability, and at least early on, he trusts Zarkon to show him his other connections- taking baby Allura to see him.

But it’s a really good thing that Alfor doesn’t really need Zarkon- because Zarkon and Keith would never have worked as a team. Because while Shiro is very much naturally drawn to people that he sees as needing nurturing or support… Zarkon, conversely, has a very clear tendency to expect his connections to keep up with him to his standards.

And part of this is entirely nonmalicious- Zarkon has no real art for connecting with people. He’s clumsy and awkward. If anything, we see kind of an inversion of Keith and Shiro’s dynamic- Alfor is the charismatic diplomat who’s able to set Zarkon up to meet new people and get him talking to them while Zarkon is the guy that has to excuse himself from the room because whoops beautiful intelligent scientist is on your planet now.

But unfortunately it’s not all benign, since… Zarkon’s social awkwardness combined with his perception that he is entitled to others’ loyalty makes him nastily possessive, and this is shown to be a problem with the paladins of old from the start.

All of the paladins are rulers, but Zarkon fundamentally views them as belonging to him. Blaytz is his to correct and scold when he thinks the others’ behavior doesn’t measure up, and they are not allowed to criticize him, considering how he retaliates even cheerful teasing with a not-so-subtle attack of “But you need me”

And this comes out big time when Alfor and Zarkon start clashing. Zarkon’s perfectly fine turning a cold shoulder on Alfor for years, but when Alfor uses that independence to hold his ground and challenge Zarkon on equal footing, Zarkon starts panicking and yelling about he commands Voltron, Alfor, where are you going, he didn’t give you permission to leave-

Young Zarkon reminds me very much of ATLA’s Azula, in her single most tragic character trait- how she takes, or, doesn’t at all, the loss of her two friends.

Zarkon is needy of other people. If there’s anybody that doesn’t have other people in his life and feels incredibly threatened by that person potentially leaving, it was Zarkon, not Alfor. And frankly… ten thousand years later, Zarkon is still not over the fact that Alfor left him.

And even Zarkon and Keith have major differences. Keith’s fear of being left behind stems from a fear of not being good enough for Shiro, the one person who stuck with him this long. The idea of being rejected by Shiro is horrifying to Keith and he sees even Shiro talking about the idea that he might not make it as horrifying, suggesting Keith’s not worth staying here for. He takes it personally and processes it on a level as his fault.

While Zarkon… I think he has that same root anxiety. It’s hard for him to make connections, and comparatively easy to lose them. I’d suspect Zarkon has a pretty troubled past of his own when it comes to connecting to people or not, especially if his whole attitude of “don’t fraternize with those beneath you” came from his parents- like Keith, I think that he comes from a very lonely background. No wonder Alfor was so pleased to see Zarkon happily married, and no wonder Zarkon latched onto Honerva with the intensity he did.

The problem with Zarkon that turns this from a sympathetic struggle to a devastating character flaw is… Zarkon refuses to accept that any failure of a relationship is his fault. He’s decided to make his loneliness his partners’ problem. If someone leaves him and he’s hurt, his response is- how dare you, that’s not how this works, you’re not allowed to leave, you- get back here right now, before he gets mad.

When Alfor turns his back on Zarkon, at a point when Zarkon’s also losing Honerva to something else- Zarkon yells, orders, threatens, and none of that works. And that’s when he panics. This is when we see Zarkon in the past at his most vulnerable and scared.

But he’s a leader. He’s not allowed to not be in control. He’s gonna take control of this situation. What does he have to do? Well… he could always lie. Alfor’s a bleeding heart. Pretend he’s changed his mind, say what they want to hear, and he has his team back, and he can get his wife back, and everything will be right where it should be.

Shiro would never do that. Keith would never do that. What happened between Alfor and Zarkon is a product of very different constructions of their mind that Shiro and Keith really don’t have. If anything, I’d think scenes of Keith holding his ground and challenging Shiro on things are heartening signs. It tells us that Keith is starting to have more of a foundation that’s not just Shiro, and more of a sense of certainty, and I think he kind of had to build that in s3 and s4. That’s the good thing that came out of the entire Shiro-gets-kidnapped-a-second-time debacle; Keith’s foundations got a particular, aggressive boost.

#voltron legendary defender #vld #Shiro #Keith #Zarkon #Alfor #readmore #thenorthernphoenix

[noahetkin]

➵  BASICS

NAME: Noah Etkin GOES BY: Noah AGE / D.O.B. 30th October, 1994 [26 yo] FACECLAIM: Ronen Rubinstein GENDER & SEXUALITY: Cis-Male, Bi.  HOMETOWN: Chicago, Illinois. CURRENTLY:  Sunset Park, Brooklyn, NYC. AFFILIATION: NYPD. / Law Enforcement. [Formerly, Syndicate] JOB POSITION: Intelligence Officer/Cop. EDUCATION: High School Diploma, Police Academy. RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Involved. ➵ Blair Diaz, girlfriend, living together, one year relationship.  CHILDREN: None.

➵  TRAITS

POSITIVE: Determined, Humourful, Autonomous, Resourceful. NEGATIVE: Naïve, Evasive, Untrusting, Blunt.

➵  BIOGRAPHY

Laws are put in place because they are needed; they set boundaries for humanity. Pushing the walls of the books severs the moral standing your soul takes up. It is consuming, darkening – it is all too easily turned into an abyss. No man is exempt from it, no body unable to be free of it despite how strong it may be and there’s never a limit – never. Justice matters and it is powerful, do not let anyone tell you differently. You’ll be the law bringer of the City, Noah, you’ll make a great officer.

   When the law stops being fundamental, the entire world will fall to chaos – Chicago will crumble. Never cross right and wrong, Noah; nothing is worth sacrificing the justice system to chaos. Not even if you die defending it, that’s how legends are forged in stone. The badge, the gun – they’re symbolic, they mean nothing if you carry them for the wrong reasons; crush the evil before it crumbles the walls of good. Blue suits you, kid.

   Noah Etkin, before he was the man who looked good in blue. He was the young boy that sat in the front yard playing with drift cars, scratching plastic wheels along concrete stones and burying toy vehicles in the mud. The sounds of a child faking siren noises ringing down the street in this horrific squealing that worsened with each whir of the self-made screech. Noah didn’t dream of it; didn’t have aspirations from a young child that put him on the pathway of law enforcement. Etkin played with those toy cars because those were all he had – nobody cared that racing cars were wailing sirens; a kid doesn’t know any different.

  Real sirens though, they’re louder. They make a kid’s heart race, pound up against the small fragile bones of an undeveloped pre-teen and threaten to burst. Hands covering ears, drowning out the banshee of a scream that could be heard three blocks over. That morning, mid-way through tearing up the grass beneath the racecars rubber wheels, the matching sound of burning tyres ripped across gravel.

   It was a little more intense than a boy’s cries – shortly followed by a crunching of metal folding in on itself. Crashing, crunching – bones, they meshed into one absolute sickening replay of a police car in a high-speed chase down Noah’s street, his father’s racer in front. Embedded in the cornerstone of a turning, half its size, the car weaved shapes like an accordion; interior coated a crimson, his father unrecognizable from the inside. Sweeping arms, shrouded eyes – screams, so much screaming.

  Noah shakes at night, a teenager torn from the world of peace, disguised as responsibility; the kind Etkin has never really faced until suddenly, he was man of the house. His mother the only part of Chicago he cared about – the part that since crumbling. He doesn’t understand, the pre-teen tries to grasp the magnitude of the sudden demons that shouldered him. The person his father was, the kind of woman his mother was – broken by grief; loss, absolute despair. Where law had been gnawed into his very core by parents who were not so angelic in their ways. Ruination came for him, first, it was soft. The gentle bites of aging and short-time care for his mother caught in the tangling web that seemed to glue her to the couch for days on end.

  Then, it came with grades; school, a boy who’d been all but average, a little keen to follow rules with the belief they were they to keep order and not to oppress. Noah doesn’t know. He doesn’t know anything but what he’s told. Once told by a fellow student he’d never become a man until hairs grew on his palms, Noah believed that for years – growing anxious he was never going to make himself into anything. That he’d end up in the front sear of the car his father was, squished between leather and metal; mutilated. He doesn’t want to be. He wants to be the part that isn’t the racecar – but the sirens.

  He’s always had the wrong toy car.

  So, the man that is Noah Etkin; the one with a history that doesn’t play him as most straight edged story, holes in blacked-out childhood memory of his. He finds some hope in the idea that all those lawful assurances he was fed as a child held some truth; that even if his family weren’t always on the right side of it, he could be. Leaving school, mediocre grades under his belt, he found that where he was good at sports and not much else; something about computers he just got. Whether he just sat there, coding his own remote-control vehicles to distract himself from the idea of committing to the thoughts that plagued him.

  Did the police run him off the road? Were they protecting the world from him? Or did he need help from the darkness that had him in its clutches?

  Etkin couldn’t tell you how many times he’d asked those questions to himself; wondered truly what had happened. He got older, his mother got more and more ill and the memory got darker. Law school wasn’t for him – his grades didn’t match up by the end, but the Academy; the one thing he’d been milling over since the first night he started asking himself those questions. He’d been asking the wrong ones. He should have been giving himself answers.

  It doesn’t matter because you’re going to be the justice system; you’re going to play conduit to right and wrong. It was just that nobody told the late teen that it wasn’t black and white – it never was; it never would be. Its complexities stemmed for decades, the harsh grip law enforcement held was both a reality check to the childish hopes Noah once held and a realization that he wasn’t going to always win the battle of good and evil. Chicago was notorious for the latter. Gang crime in full force, most of which were intertwined with the police force already; corrupt and the non-corrupt in the losing battle. Noah, still in his rookie years was stationed as a regular in what they joked was crim central; he knew it well – figured he did anyways, just played idle watcher in one of the real cars that he wished he’d had near two decades ago. Logging behaviours, doing everything a good young cop would.

  Nobody tells the good young cops that they’re in danger before they are. He’s not the best in the field, he’s the support – he plays better from a distance where he can do electronic damage, in the form of tapping away at a keyboard and cybernetworking himself into the mainframes he shouldn’t.

  A cop was allowed to do those things, it wasn’t unlawful; he wouldn’t do that.

  Because where did his knack for intelligence led him to a lost signal on his radio – one he spent all of a minute hijacking to pick up static signals, he was walking into enemy territory; one of the infamous families that could make rookie cops like Noah Etkin vanish.

   His investigation there got him exactly that. A cop snooping around never looks good to those on the other side of the law, the officer evidencing things he shouldn’t because he can’t do stealth in the field. He’s lucky he’s not dead, he knows that too. The offer was no less than a threat – Noah’s ability to network into computers for their intelligence, turn a blind eye to their dealings and he got to live his blue jacketed life affiliated with a gang he was sworn to take down. Fine print: You get to live, appreciate it.

   Nobody tells the rookie cops that making deals with the devil never ends in their victory. He’s conflicted; always, that part of Chicago’s crime base was now part of Etkin’s life; is that what your parents were too? Questioning every life choice he ever made came with being in the ranks of affiliates; the turmoil he felt betraying his sworn oath to the law; the job he’d worked for and the change to make a difference.

  He was still making a difference in one way, just on the wrong side of the good.

  So, two years of surviving that, befriending every side of good, evil; the questionable left a broken cop in the moral war of his life. Pushes the threshold of what he could handle. 

   And then comes the complication of the cliche. 

   Noah doesn’t know what to call it, never did. But he knows how he felt about the woman that was born into crime and tangled him up in things he never imagined. Wouldn’t condemn her, even when he had the chance too. Cared so deeply that his own morals were skewed, and that terrified him; overwhelms the man who dedicated his life to good. 

   Left him drowning; suffocating in the life that he never believed she’d give up; would sink him just the same. No sight of out, not that wouldn’t end with his death. 

   So he ran, so fast; left everything behind; his mother in care, his friends; the ones he never should have made to begin with. 

    And yet, she wouldn’t let him go alone. 

    Knows the price of running and yet trusts that it’s the only way he can ever become the man he once was again. Self-loathing doesn’t suit Noah, at all, New York’s a new start, a quiet transfer into the NYPD that made him wonder how long he has before he’s hunted down from his former affiliation’ by the woman’s previous people; whether if he stays silent to his previous involvement that maybe, they might be left alone. 

    Maybe’s a rather big risk, but it’s all he’s got; and he’s making the best of it. 

    Because at the end of it all, he’d rather die on the good side of the law; serving justice than ever be lost to the darkness of crime. 

➵  CONNECTIONS

MALACHAI ETKIN | Father, deceased. EFA ETKIN | Mother, Committed. [Chicago]. BLAIR DIAZ | Girlfriend, Living together. 

➵  HEADCANONS

NUMERO UNO

Intelligence Officer/Cop at NYPD, prefers to be behind a computer than he does actually in the field.

His father died when he was around five years old in a high speed crash evading cops.

Noah’s mother is still currently a resident of Chicago, but she is committed for psychiatric help. He’s not all that keen to talk about it - he doesn’t understand entirely and given he’s hiding what he used to be, will probably avoid the conversation. 

He likes cars - they’re somewhat troublingly personal to him.

He began training for the academy a year after he left school - the year out was spent volunteering for the community whilst helping his mother; it still resulted in her being committed.

He qualified for an officer at twenty and spent a further three years training for the intelligence branch of the force where he developed his already natural talent for computers.

When he first joined the force, Noah was not fully aware how corrupt his first police team was. From when he discovered the foul play, he did his best to keep to his job, be good and find himself a way to slowly pry himself out of the entanglement of broken laws he found himself buried in more every day.

His screw up that led him to being under gang-life thumbs was around his twenty-third birthday, right by Halloween and he was police intel/informant for two years before he defected.

There’s a quietness that he can sometimes fall into when he’s not comfortable, his confidence over the last two years is pretty shot. (he’s a nervous wreck, really)

Often, he has struggle with his wavering moral compass with decisions that directly violate his beliefs - and his job. It can trigger a tremor in his hands that slow his networking down.

Comic book nerd, loves his superheroes and geeks out a little.

Good cop, overbearingly good. 

➵  QUICK LINKS

THREADS

MUSINGS

SELF-PARAS

HEADCANONS

#ᴡʀᴏɴɢ / * ɴᴏᴀʜ