#we owe him a massive debt of gratitude | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hlupdate · 3 years

Link

Of all the disciples to worship at the altar of Stevie Nicks, none have managed to capture the attention of rock's reigning priestess quite like Harry Styles.

The 26-year old rocker (who this week received three Grammy nominations) is the Gucci-clad poster-boy carrying the torch for a bygone era of music history that the Fleetwood Mac front-woman helped crystallize. Styles recently cited the group's 1977 (and still charting) classic “Dreams” as one of the first songs he learned the words to growing up. Their friendship began in 2015 after the former One Direction member presented his idol with a hand-piped birthday cake after a Fleetwood Mac gig in London. (“Glad she liked carrot cake,” he later said.) The years since have seen the duo's mutual affection blossom into one of pop culture‘s most cherished bondings.

Last year, when Styles inducted Nicks into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, he proclaimed the 72-year old “everything you’ve ever wanted in a lady, a lover, in a friend.” Nicks has gushed about him in interviews as everything from “the son she never had” to the “love child” of her and bandmate Mick Fleetwood. Styles earned her official seal of approval after covering “The Chain” every night of his first solo tour in support of a record that sounds closer to Crosby, Stills & Nash than anything he released under his prior band.

“Harry could've lost a lot of fans but he didn't. I’m so proud of him because he took a risk and didn’t go the One Direction route," Nicks recently told Vogue over the phone. "He loves One Direction, I love One Direction, and a gazillion other people do too, but Harry didn't wanna go the pop route. He wanted straight-up rock-and-roll circa 1975.”

Nicks has been embracing some of the busiest years of her dual careers as both Fleetwood Mac front-woman and solo sorceress—and doing so in the midst of a global pandemic. Since she last performed with Styles at the Forum for his Fine Line release show in December, she’s released a 24 Karat Gold concert film and “Show Them the Way,” her politically-minded single and first piece of original music in six years. After Miley Cyrus asked for Nicks's blessing before releasing her “Edge of Seventeen”-tinged “Midnight Sky,” the two joined forces for an exhilarating new mash-up titled “Edge of Midnight."

In honor of Styles making history as the magazine’s first solo cover-boy, Nicks caught up with Vogue to answer all our questions about their cosmic connection. Currently beachside with her quarantine bubble in Hawaii, she’s been doing what one would expect Stevie Nicks to be up to during a pandemic: writing new music, dancing around her house to “Watermelon Sugar“ and “casting little spells.” As befitting rock’s foremost storyteller, our intended 30-minute chat turned into a two-hour confessional about her love of Styles, working with Cyrus for the first time, joining Fleetwood Mac, the president-elect Joe Biden, the Met Gala, betta fish funerals, and much more.

Did you get a chance to look through Harry's cover story yet?

Right before I called you I sat here and looked at all the pictures on my new iPad. What can I say? That's my Harry. I think the thing that’s most wonderful about him—and I've told him this and sometimes I think he takes it the wrong way—is that he’s such a kooky guy. He’s the type of person you'd wanna live next door to. He’d look out the window, see you having a hard time planting flowers and rush out asking "Can I help you with those roses?" "Sure but you are Harry Styles, right?" That's who he is.

I really only know him to a certain extent but I have gotten to experience some big moments in his life like when he released his first solo record at the Troubadour. I always think of Tom Petty saying "So you wanna be a rock star or you wanna be a pop star?" It's two completely different things and he really could have gone pop like his friend Zayn [Malik]. I was sorry that Zayn didn't keep going more because I thought he was really good. But he took the pop route, which I think was right for him. Harry could've lost a lot of fans doing rock-and-roll but he didn't. Harry did a long tour with that first record and said “I'm a different person now. I have a full-on rock band and this is what I'm gonna do.” With many of my records I’ll stuff down peoples' throats until they like it and that's exactly what he did. Then he went away and wrote Fine Line, one of my favorite records.

What were your immediate thoughts listening to Fine Line for the first time?

Me and four of my friends sat with Harry in his living room in London and listened to it a few times before it came out. But it wasn't really Fine Line yet. The first time we listened to it nobody really said anything. The second time everyone started to go "I think this song is great but it should be second in the sequence." By the third listen it was five girls screaming "Well Harry really now, I think you need to take these four that are called "Harry Songs" and do this and that—” while he’s sinking in his reclining chair thinking "Are these women ever gonna leave? Thanks for your opinions but oh my god stop already."

What changed when you heard the record in it’s finished form?

This record means a lot to me. When it was all put together I listened and said "Oh my god, The Beatles live." A whole lot of people live in these songs. Fleetwood Mac lives there. I live there. When I listen to "Fine Line” I hear melodies that would've worked on “A Day in the Life.“ It has that same kind of complexity. I think the Beatles would've thought “Here we’ve influenced a young man who took some incredible things from us and made them his own years and years later.”

Earlier this year you posted a message saying that Fine Line is Harry’s Rumours. Can you elaborate on what you meant by that?

When Harry asked me to do "Landslide" with him at the Forum I asked why and he said "Because I want you to be there. You were there for my first night at the Troubadour for the first record.” That night I wrote him a letter that said “This is your Rumours so you have to really respect it and adore it because these kinds of records sometimes don't ever come again.” Fleetwood Mac went on to make many great records but people would bet their life on the fact that Rumours was the one. And this might just be the one for Harry. We were all kind of the same age when we made Rumours. I was 28 and Lindsey was 27. I actually don't even know how old Harry is—he's that timeless to me.

Do you have a personal favorite of his songs?

Every one represents a different thing to me. “Sunflower” is such a great little song. He loves to do crazy videos and one time I called him and said “I have an idea. You're gonna be a bee and the sunflower would be your girlfriend, and you guys would get married and live in a beehive with your little bee children. You’d sing the lyrics “kiss in the kitchen like it's a dance floor duh duh duh” and show this entire bee relationship.”

What did he think of that pitch?

When I finished the other end of the phone was silent. I said "No really, think about it. It’ll be fantastical like a Francis Ford Coppola movie.” He’s like “Yeah, okay...” (laughs). I also love the "Adore You” video with the little fish because I have my own special relationships with fish.

In what sense?

I always have two betta fish but they have to be separated otherwise they'll kill each other. I stick my finger into their aquarium and the blue one will swim around my hand like a little dolphin. When my fish get old and suddenly die I have funerals for them in my backyard where I play Celine Dion. I have them filmed and everything (laughs). It’s too much but I thankfully haven’t had any recent fish deaths. I haven't even been able to sit down and show Harry the videos of my little fish so when I saw the “Adore You” video I couldn’t believe it.

Why is it important for you to foster these relationships with younger artists like Harry who’ve been so openly influenced by you?

I'm inspired by them. I'm inspired that Miley wants to make music with me. I’m inspired that the Haim girls are my biggest fans—and I theirs. A lot of these kids are making the amazing records I’ve been waiting for them to make. I’m not like other 72-year olds. I listen to current music because I want to be current. When people find out how old I am versus the music I'm listening to they think it doesn't gel at all. I’ve been collecting musical knowledge since I was in the fourth grade listening to the singles my grandfather used to bring home. I listened to Buddy Holly and the Everly Brothers until the sixth grade when R&B radio became Top 40. I said goodbye country and hello R&B, so it’s not like I'm ever stuck on one thing. What I love about Harry is that he's very old-school but still modern. And that's kinda like me.

You both also transitioned from massive groups to equally massive solo careers rather seamlessly.

When I decided I wanted to be a solo artist I'd only been in Fleetwood Mac for a few years. I tried to figure out a way to do it gracefully because I didn’t wanna break up the band. I just wanted to sit at my piano and write poetry. After we did a record and a really long tour the band scurried off to different parts of the world while I’d just be home writing songs for a year and a half. What did they care what I did while they were all on vacation? I’ve always said all the way through these two careers I've had: if you're in a band first, never break it up.

I know Beyoncé because I spent a day with Destiny’s Child making the “Bootylicious” video. I owe them a debt of gratitude because that’s the one time I ever got to pretend I played rock-and-roll guitar! But when Beyoncé made the decision to be a solo artist she did not see herself going back to Destiny's Child every couple of years. And that's a perfectly acceptable decision because sometimes that's what people wanna do. I, on the other hand, said why not have the ability to go back to Fleetwood Mac whenever I want? Being a Gemini I get bored really easily, so being able to have those two careers was great.

Do you think One Direction would ever reunite?

I think it's a good idea. For all we know, One Direction is completely broken up forever. But I think those guys are friends and five or ten years down the road they could all go "You know what, wouldn't it be really fun to do a One Direction tour?" Because that's what people do. I wouldn't be surprised if they did reunite at some point just because they can. And because it would just be fun. Harry is the kind of person who would never stomp on that idea. He would never say (imitates posh English accent) "Never! I would never do that again!" Because why not just keep the door open?

Was there any particular detail or passage in Harry’s cover story that stuck out to you?

According to this article he can get in a car with his friend to drive all over Europe then drive back by himself. I stopped driving in 1978 because my driver's license expired and I'd already made a lot of money. I very smartly thought "You know what, if someone even hits you and it's not even your fault but you're a little drunk, you are done. You're finished and the fortune that you've made is gone, so why should you drive anyway?” By then me and Christine were very cloistered, but Harry's able to live a freer life because he's a guy. He's like Mick. He has a free life.

Would you say that you don’t?

I'm only comparing us in the way that Harry goes off to the Bahamas to work on songs then flies back to LA then London then Italy—I can't do that. I can't do that by myself. He's able to do whatever he wants by himself and it's a whole different way of life. Being that Harry is a guy, he's able to be a loner more than I am. As a woman I'm not free to do all that. Even when I was his age I couldn't just get off anywhere I wanted. When we were on the road Christine and I didn't have a clue in the world what the boys did. We went to our rooms with security guys standing outside. It's not like we ever escaped to go club-hopping in downtown Manhattan. We never got to live that life so freedom as Harry knows it is very different than it’s been for me.

Did you ever have any figure in your life who provided some sense of mentorship the way you have to artists like Harry?

I didn't really have anyone. If I had any guiding force at all it probably would've been Christine McVie because she was five years older than me. And five years is five years, you know? Chris was friends with Eric Clapton and knew all the famous musicians in London. She’d married John [McVie] and done a bunch of records with Fleetwood Mac before I came along so she'd been in the music business for a long time. I was breaking up with Lindsey when she was breaking up with John. She was my therapist and my go-to person for just about everything. We had each other to get through that really difficult situation where no one was gonna quit the band. Christine and I kept the whole thing together by telling the three men "You quit because we're not stopping” Thank god I had her, but I think on the other side of that thank god she had me. We really were a force of nature.

I’m curious to what extent fashion plays a role in your and Harry’s relationship. Have you gifted him any accessories that were significant to you?

I actually gave him a ring at the Forum thing. It’s very masculine and has a pink stone in it. I told him it was a pink diamond but it really isn't, it would've cost $5 million. It was mine and I really loved it but I thought "This should be for Harry.” You can see it on his hands in the "Falling" video where he’s playing the piano. If Harry and I were in a band together we’d be trading all kinds of crazy stuff.

How did you come to decide on your all-black stage uniform?

I started getting paid when I joined Fleetwood Mac but up until then I didn't have any money to buy food. All of a sudden we were going on tour so I just packed up my normal clothes. We started eating because there was room service and there I was gaining ten pounds in the middle of the tour. I didn't fit in any of the clothes and I didn't have time to shop so when I got home I said “I can never do this again.” I knew a friend who knew a designer and I told her I needed a uniform because I can't be thinking about what I wanna wear every night. It makes it so much easier since everybody that's in Pittsburgh isn't necessarily gonna be in Philadelphia. Harry's done the same thing with his white pants and pink shirt.

What are your thoughts on him being the first solo male cover in Vogue’s history?

It makes me feel so inspired. I'm extremely jealous he's on the cover of Vogue because I'm seventy-two years old and have wanted to be on the cover my whole life. I’m such a magazine hag, so I’m incredibly jealous of Harry but I'll get over it. As far as all the crazy things he's wearing, you do whatever you have to do to be on the cover of Vogue. I'm very proud of him and I think it's great that there's a man on the cover… but I should've been in the corner off in the distance (laughs). Did you know I've never been to the Met Gala?

We would be honored to have you at the next gala and every one after that. I’m putting this in the article to make sure it’s in the public record.

As Mick Jagger says, "We still have our freedom, but we don't have much time." I would like to be not much older than I am now so I can wear a fantastic outfit and entertain everybody. It's a dream of mine and most of my dreams have come true, but I need to not be ninety when it happens.

Harry and you could perform together.

We wouldn't even have to rehearse. We've got a couple of duets that are really great. We do "Landslide" and “Two Ghosts” together really well. We actually have five or six terrific acoustic numbers that we could do at the drop of a hat.

You hinted earlier this year that there might be a role for Harry in the miniseries based on the stories of Rhiannon. Is there any update there?

This is probably the third-biggest thing I've ever done in my life after Fleetwood Mac and my solo career. There’s a lot to be done in the movie business before I can start riding my horses across the mountains of Wales. I've signed with a movie company—I'm not gonna tell you who—and we just signed a writer. I'm not gonna tell you who that is either but there’s an amazing part for Harry. My favorite character in the series is the only man who goes through all four books. He's a magician who doesn't wanna be king and I think Harry would just be so perfect.

Have you and Harry discussed collaborating on any future music together?

We're open to making music together because we've been very successful when we go onstage just to do one song. I would love to be in a band with Harry but even if I never saw him in person again he’s made a record that breaks my heart in a million places like Fine Line. As far as music goes there's plenty of fun things that he and I could do. We can just reach out to each other and do it. I’m always ready to slip back into those high-heel black suede boots and become my alter ego.

This interview has been edited for clarity and space.

#harry styles #stevie nicks #vogue magazine #251120

62 notes · View notes

lady-plantagenet · 3 years

Note

What are your top ten novels about the Wars of the Roses? And why?

I think it’s obvious by the length how enthusiastic I was to answer this ask xx thank you for asking me and giving me also an opportunity to make a masterlist of some sorts of all my reviews xx. But you know? I speak like quite the expert but in reality I’ve read very little histfic about TWOTR because I just newly got back into this hobby (about a year ago) and have little time in general so tbh the last three books on this list I do not personally care for but since I’ve read so little novels of this kind they are here nonetheless hhh (so please people, give me no angry asks asking me why I am endorsing PG, I’m not).

1. The Last of the Barons by Lord Edward Lytton-Bulwer

This is quite possibly the best book I’ve ever read in my life. The gap between these books and the rest is a chasm the size of the world and I wpuld genuinely reccomend this book as an actual piece of literature to anyone, not just TWOTR fanatics. It is written in 1840, in quite old timey lingo and it centres around Richard Neville 16th Earl of Warwick, but in the true tradition of a real classic it is more than just a character drama, it astutely showcases the purpose of Warwick and what he did in the context of his wider world and doesn’t just chalk it up to personal greed. There is also this fascinating subplot about courtship, science and such. Hell, you even get this eccentric ‘natural philosopher’ guy called Adam Warner who tries to make something like a steam engine and gets employed as an alchemist by Jacquetta and Edward IV.

From a historical standpoint it is quite biased as the author himself was a politician (and an actual baron) and tbh I don’t completely agree with his interpretation of history and I can see some of the Victorian inluences slip in, but some of his takes are very refreshing and he clearly consulted the primary sources. I am much interested in his philosophy and life outlook though and while I don’t think his Warwick is the Warwick, I think he (Lytton-Bulwer) understood him like no other novelist could. As for the writing style... here’s an excerpt of a good reads review that I agree with and tells you all you need to know:

“Of course, such a style of writing no longer exists. The language used is essentially foreign to us. But the nobility, the pride of this story work their ways into your bones, your heart. You will yearn for honor once you have left it.“

Basically, go type it into google and see what I mean. You don’t even need to purchase this book it’s all online at the first click on Gutenberg.

Nevertheless, I’ve posted excerpts of it here, here and here =)

2. The King’s Grey Mare by Rosemary Hawley Jarman

This book (unlike the latter) has zero actual historical value. Actually, it sort of does in the way that it hilights certain real events that most people are unaware of when it comes to its protagonist: Elizabeth Woodville, eg the whole Cooke tapestry affair and the whole Desmond affair. Both things which I still stand on the fence about (if you don’t know what I’m talking about send em another ask or pm me). But like, it isn’t political, philosophical or such in any way like the first book, yet you still feel like you are *there* in the 15th century - by the time I finished reading it my heart was wrung dry and I kind of fell into a down for a couple of days because I just wanted to feel the magic again. If anyone would ask me I would give this 5 stars because it perfectly achieved what it set out to do (I can’t expect all books to go above and beyond like #1), it made me feel for the characters who were super complex, was accurate historically and even when it wasn’t it made sense, it got very creative with its themes (which I like to see because I am not interested in reading the exact same story over and over again) and the prose was absolutely magical and brought all the depth to this novel. I’ve read classics with less flowing and poignant prose, yes actual classics!

This book also switches POVs quite a lot (basically it headhops because it’s written in omniscient- but whatever, rules are meant to be broken), so you’ll get to see many of your faves in there, Edward IV, Margaret of Anjou and Grace Plantagenet feature quite heavily. One thing that disappointed me is that it wasn’t really Edward IV/Elizabeth Woodville (at the time I bought it for that), she never really likes him and his love for her kind of wanes towards the end. If you’re not too bothered about that then I say go buy it.

3. The Daisy and the Bear by K L Clark

I put this here because we are already going into shakier territory when it comes to this list. This is kind of the last *really* good, truly five star one. It is a long spoof about TWOTR but god it’s smart! Yet, It does not take itself seriously and has Margaret of Anjou/Warwick the Kingmaker as a crackship and centrepiece and had me in stitches the whole time. I’ve written a long detailed review for it here.

4. Death be Pardoner to Me by Dorothy Davies

This is a novel about George Duke of Clarence. Quite possibly the only novel ever written about him in existence and boy is it a trip - the author claims to have channelled him (she’s a medium). I’ve written a detailed review for it here. I read this last spring and my views have unfortunately changed, the thing is, I’ve come to find out through my research that this was quite possibly a hoax as there are some indisputable inaccuracies (Ankarette Twynyho’s age, the details of Isabel’s death - we *know* she did not die from childbirth, Isabel did not reunite with him after Tewksbury 1471, but right before Christmas 1470). It’s also quite Richardian (the author admitted) and she could have *had* me had she not chose to divulge it in the foreword. Nevertheless, I still like this book because it did get to me at certain points and it’s good quality as a novel, I remember shedding a tear at one point even which is extremely rare for me but I think that says more about my sentiment for the subject matter than the book itself.

5. We Speak no Treason by Rosemary Hawley Jarman (not yet finished, so ranking may vary)

I haven’t finished it yet, so I’ll leave it here for now. This book is a Richardian book about Richard III, but I can’t get enough of this author, I haven’t found anyone to replace her with. The prose is magnificent as usual and I must confess that I’m happy that this book is told through the POVs of three OCs and not Richard, he remains rather elusive and tbf I find the three OCs very interesting and at this point I’m more interested in their stories than anything else. Of course, Richard III is still a fairly prominent part of this novel (even when he doesn’t appear) and it has led to me getting annoyed quite a bit. Given who I am I fumed massively at that one aside that Clarence and Edward have bastards whereas Richard isn’t like that... like are you serious?? At one point the author reassociated the Games and Playes Chesse book to Richard when it was in reality dedicated to Clarence and I got even more annoyed. Leave the poor figure something ma’am? Whatever, as a book about three medieval commoners it’s fantastic and that’s what I pretend it is.

6. Wife to the Kingmaker by Sandra Wilson

Nothing more to add than what I wrote in my (super-long) detailed review on here. This is the case because I read it very recently. This is a novel about Anne Beauchamp 16th Countess of Warwick, it’s ranked higher than Sunne because though it’s less accurate it’s got panache.

7. The Sunne in Splendour by Sharon K Penman

I feel very strongly about this Richard III book and what it represents. I wrote a long detailed review about it on here and a follow-up post on the discussion is here ft my awesome mutual @beardofkamenev ‘s insights also thrown into the mix. Xx

8. The White Queen by Philippa Gregory

This is a step higher than the other two because this book pretty much changed my life. The thing is, I read it translated into my own language by an extremely talented translator and I was also only about 11/12 years old so it was all very impressive to me then. This book about Elizabeth Woodville effectively introduced me to the TWOTR; an interest that has never really left me these past ten years (though at one point (ages 14-19) it was quite wane). It’s not a good book by any standard (I was quite shocked when picking it up at a bookstore, I had found that when read in the original language it lost all its magic), but I owe a lot to it and some people who now endlessly discourse about how bad PG is need to recognise their debt of gratitude and be a bit more respectful, I think. That is of course unless you came into this era via different media, but you got to admit that a massive part of us got to this place through TWQ, though we outgrew it.

10. The Red Queen and The Kingmaker’s Daughter by Philippa Gregory

Exact same commentary as above, just objectively not good books. Flat characterisation, misunderstanding of the era, historical innacuracies which don’t add anything, lack of nuance in prose which often dances too close to *gasp* YA prose *shudders*. But these are lower because I don’t owe them a debt of gratitude as I do TWQ. Funnily enough, they are still better than the series.

#look at rb for tags

38 notes · View notes

crossdressingdeath · 3 years

Note

Someone on twitter actually posted something really interesting, where in Chapter 73 JC actually does say that he owes WQ and WN gratitude for what happened in the Sunshot Campaign, but no one (especially NMJ) really cares. While it doesn't excuse everything else he did and not saving the Wen's beyond that, it's really clear no sect wanted to give WWX his due or gave a shit about the Wens. (The section starts with "Jiang Cheng's brows were knitted." if you're interested.)

(To add to the Chapter 73 ask) I know you think the Nie's and Lan's were reserve troops and didn't know the truth about the Wen's, but reading that section makes me think that they did, or if they didn't, wouldn't have cared if they actually did. LWJ and JC (until JGS starts talking) are the only one's trying to defend the Wen's and WWX in this section, no one cares that JC states he owes them gratitude (though he should have said why). I just don't really see anyone caring about them, but WWX.

The reserve troop thing is based on the fact that a) neither sect is mentioned as really being part of the siege beyond... being there when JC led it, b) the Jiangs and (presumably) Jins felt the need to hide the bodies in the blood pool despite the dangers of that in a world where people who aren’t buried properly can come back and cause problems even without the massive injustice of their deaths and c) LXC doesn’t mention any civilian murder when WWX is recovering in the Cloud Recesses after being stabbed which I’m pretty fucking sure would’ve. y’know. come up at some point. Just putting that reasoning out there.

I would disagree with the assessment that JC’s offhand mention that he and WWX owe the Wens a solid means the other sects knew that the Wens were civilians, just because... he says nothing of the sort. His exact line is “We owe [WN] and his sister Wen Qing gratitude for what happened during the Sunshot Campaign”; he says nothing about how “Oh, and by the way, WN saved me and WWX from the fall of Lotus Pier at great personal risk and retrieved my parents’ bodies and his sister hid us and protected us and helped us rest and recover right under WRH’s nose and the Wens in that labour camp were largely civilians and medical personnel and a fucking child being tortured and murdered by Jin guards”. So no, I don’t think JC casually putting it out there that he owes WN and WQ and then refusing to say another word even when NMJ specifically brings up the fall of Lotus Pier, y’know, the thing WN and WQ saved JC from and in fact getting angry about the whole thing counts as him actually trying to accomplish something. Also note that in that same scene it’s LXC who points out that they have no evidence that WQ participated in WRH’s crimes and when NMJ says they have no evidence she tried to stop them (literally saying “If she responded with only silence and not opposition when the Wen Sect was causing mayhem, it’s the same as indifference”) JC, who has proof that she tried to help in at least small ways and on at least one occasion did oppose WRH’s actions, doesn’t say a single fucking word. And the fact that LXC speaks up (and actually puts more effort into it than JC does, mind, given he actually argues against NMJ’s point that WQ did nothing, if only briefly; JC, despite having more information, does nothing of the sort) suggests that actually if JC had given proof or even just his word that the Wens were innocent and were opposed to WRH’s actions... people would have defended them. Even NMJ’s argument is based on an assumption that WQ and her people approved of WRH’s actions, which JC could prove they didn’t. So no, him saying “Oh we do owe them a favour” and then refusing to defend them or explain the situation in any way beyond that even though he has enough information to refute NMJ’s reason for opposing the Wen remnants (and, as I feel may have been forgotten, later outright lying if only by omission to let the sects think that the Wen remnants were an army WWX was raising while knowing full well that that wasn’t even close to the truth) doesn’t count as him telling the sects that the Wens were in fact innocent people who had tried to help, nor does it mean the other sects knew what was going on and just didn’t care. One line followed by an outright refusal to defend these people he owes his life to even though he has the information to do so and later outright lies to make their situation worse does not a serious attempt to defend them that failed due to lack of caring on the part of the others involved make.

Look, here’s the thing. At this point the Wens are being backed by the most reputable cultivator of their generation, with LXC clearly ready and willing to side with them if he’s given any reason to do so and NMJ’s argument against defending them being the understandable assumption that they were on WRH’s side and did nothing to prevent anything he did or aid his victims. WWX has, at this point, only killed the Jin guards who were torturing civilians. JC has information that would give LXC reason to help them and refute NMJ’s assumption. If he’d done that, really thrown his weight behind defending the Wens, it would’ve been three great sect leaders backing the Wens against just JGS, who being at least somewhat politically savvy would almost certainly fold under that pressure (and probably pass it off as a misunderstanding or something done without his knowledge, which frankly would be allowed because they just finished a damn war). JC chose to say nothing. This is not a case of him doing his best and the other sect leaders not caring or thinking the Wens deserved it. This is JC actively hiding evidence that everything in the text suggests would have changed their position. I don’t think JC having one line where he half-heartedly suggests that WWX did owe WN this much counts as a solid attempt to defend the Wens when he had far more ammunition he could use in this debate and chose not to. It’s hardly fair to say that this is proof of the other sects not caring or not wanting to save civilians when in this very chapter, the chapter wherein JC makes his one attempt to defend the Wens, it’s LXC who actually argues in their favour beyond one line (not JC) and NMJ’s argument likely comes at least in part from the fact that JC shut up after he brought up the fall of Lotus Pier as a thing that makes it weird that he owed the Wens (suggesting that whatever the debt was it was not enough to absolve them of responsibility there even though the gratitude he owes them is for making sure he survived the fall) and the rest is an understandable assumption based on the fact that WQ was high-ranking.

#mdzs #grapehate #hey but thanks #i'd forgotten about how it was actually lxc who made an actual ARGUMENT in the wens' favour #and how nmj's argument is entirely based in logical concerns that jc could've assuaged and chose not to #it would be a shame not to discuss that #anon #asks

32 notes · View notes

krispyweiss · 3 years

Text

Commander Cody Dead at 77

- “He had a heart just as big as his bluster,” Bill Kirchen says

George Frayne IV, the musician and bandleader known as Commander Cody, died Sept. 26, his wife said.

Cody was 77 and had been undergoing treatment for cancer.

“Early this morning, as I lay my head upon his shoulder, George’s soul took to flight,” Sue Casanova wrote on her husband’s Facebook page. “I am heartbroken and weary and I know your hearts break, too. Thank you so much for all the love you gave and the stories you shared.”

“RIP, Commander,” the David Nelson Band posted on Facebook.

Frayne, as Cody, launched the Lost Planet Airmen in 1967. The band created a cosmic stew of country-rock filtered through improvisational ensemble playing. They released seven live and studio recordings through their initial run, which ended in 1976.

Guitarist Bill Kirchen was 19 when he joined the “bigger-than-life, … force-of-nature” Cody and his Airmen. The pair remained friends for nearly six decades and Kirchen said on Facebook Cody “had a heart just as big as his bluster.”

“Rest in peace, Commander,” Kirchen said. “Or, if you’d rather, go on, raise a ruckus.”

Kinky Friedman and Asleep at the Wheel’s Ray Benson both tweeted about how Cody - whom the former eulogized as “country-rock maverick” - helped launch their careers.

“The Commander, Commander Cody, has left spaceship Earth, but he left a treasure chest of music art and a (point of view) that changed the face of music for sure,” Benson said. “He made AATW possible in so many ways, and I/we owe him a debt of gratitude for all the love and inspiration he gave us.”

After the original Airmen dissolved, Cody continued playing songs like “Hot Rod Lincoln,” “Seeds and Stems (Again)” and “Lost in the Ozone” with musicians variously known as the Commander Cody Band, Commander Cody and His Modern Day Airmen and Commander Cody and His Western Airmen.

Jefferson Starship shared bills with some of those groups over the years and Pete Sears remembered his fellow keyboardist as a “wonderful guy, piano player, singer and entertainer with a massive presence.”

Casanova said the family is planning bi-coastal gatherings “to celebrate the Old Commander’s phenomenal life” and assist musicians in need.

9/27/21

#commander cody #commander cody and his lost planet airmen #bill kirchen #kinky friedman #the david nelson band #david nelson #new riders of the purple sage #ray benson #asleep at the wheel #jefferson starship #pete sears

5 notes · View notes

nitewrighter · 4 years

Note

small Reidan date prompt something post OW/Talon conflict?

I know you said “small date” but somehow my brain jumped to... this...

----

“Rei, a lus no greine—“ Aedan opened the ring box in the mirror, and caught himself, “No—“ he clapped the ring box shut again before taking a steadying inhale and making eye contact with his reflection again, he presented the ring box to his own reflection, “Rei Shimada-Ziegler,” he said, straightening his shoulders, “Will you do me the honor of becoming Mrs… Shimada-Ziegler… because I want to take your name… but we haven’t talked about the name part… because I’m a coward. And an idiot. And—“ he caught himself and shook his head, clapping the ring box shut again. “Rei Shimada-Ziegler,” he started again, opening the ring box at the mirror, “Anthropologically speaking, marriage has been used to unify warring tribes and justify the exchange of—Oh my god, Aedan what is wrong with you—?“ But then he flinched hard, nearly dropping the ring box and ring within at the sound of the door to their hotel room opening, narrowly managing to snatch it out of the air.

“I’m back!” Rei called from the front door as Aedan clapped the ring box shut and stuffed it into his pants pocket, “I got the dry-cleaning!”

“Oh! Great!” Aedan called back, “Still saving the world, then.”

“Still saving the world,” said Rei, stepping into the hotel room with the freshly dry-cleaned suit jacket hanging on her fingers, “I guess that’s why we gotta go to this stuff, huh?”

“I keep telling you, we could have faked our deaths back in Nepal,” said Aedan, arching an eyebrow as she set the suit jacket down on the bed.

“Psh! I’m not an asshole!” said Rei, yanking her shirt over her head and walking into the bathroom, “Besides, it’s been forever since I’ve seen Efi.” She slid the door shut behind her.

Aedan heard the shower turn on from inside the bathroom and took a steadying breath. He pulled the ring box out of his pocket again and looked at himself in the mirror, “Rei Shimada-Ziegler,” he spoke under his breath, opening the ring box in the mirror, “I knew since the day I met you that my life would never be the sa—”

“What did you say!?” Rei half-yelled over the sound of the shower.

“Oh! Nothing! Nothing!” said Aedan, clapping the ring box shut and stuffing it in his pocket, “Just… talking to myself!”

“Mmkay,” said Rei.

Aedan gave a glance to Rei’s formal clothes laid out on a bed--a beautiful gold kimono stitched together from Shambali textiles, then shook his head and focused on getting his suit jacket on.

“You’ve survived this long, haven’t you?” he whispered to himself in the mirror as he tied his tie, “You can do this.”

-——

The camera flashes glittered at the peripheries of the steps of the Numbani Heritage museum as Rei and Aedan stepped out of the town hovercar. Numbani’s skyline glowed green and gold with searchlights waving like an old Hollywood movie premiere.

“Miss Shimada-Ziegler! Any statements on the disbandment?” one of the reporters called.

“Mr. O’Deorain! What are your thoughts on your mother’s sentencing? Can she legally be called your mother?” another reporter called.

“Miss Shimada-Ziegler! What are your thoughts on the Shambali—”

“The guests of this gala have not consented to any interviews!” a broad mechanical arm stuck out as a divider between Rei and Aedan and the paparazzi.

“Hi, Orisa,” said Rei, glancing up at the massive modified OR-15 unit.

“It is good to see you, Rei,” said Orisa, her optical sensors flicking into their ‘cheerful’ mode.

“…And guest?” said Aedan, wryly.

“And guest,” said Orisa, with a good-natured head-tilt.

“The uh... the new plating looks good,” said Aedan, looking over the etched bronze chassis.

Orisa proudly adjusted the thick Shambali sash draped across her torso. “It is to honor Master Zenyatta!” she said earnestly, and then her optical sensors fixed with focus, “Ah! Rei! You are honoring him as well!”

“Well... the Shambali need human representatives, too,” said Rei, looking down at her own kimono.

“It is beautiful,” Orisa agreed, “But I was talking about this.” She pointed at the necklace around Rei’s neck, where two small shards of an orb of harmony flanked her mother’s pendant.

“Oh...” Rei touched at the pendant, “Yes I--”

“You came!” Efi suddenly caught Rei in a tight embrace out of nowhere.

“Of course we came!” said Rei, returning the embrace, “Couldn’t leave the new head of the Adawe Foundation to fend for herself, could we?”

“Just remind me of the speech all over again, why don’t you!” said Efi, laughing a little nervously.

“You’re going to be great,” said Rei and Efi just beamed.

Efi stood nearly at Aedan’s height, a good two inches over Rei, made even taller by her wedges. She still had her signature dots of white Ori ink along her cheeks, but had grown her hair out and styled it into multiple braided buns. Her eyes flicked over to Aedan, “I hope I can count on both of you to stand by my side during all the speech stuff.”

“What?” said Rei.

“Maybe that’s not a good idea---” Aedan started.

“Efi, this night is about you and the Adawe Foundation. If you have us by your side, you associate yourself with Overwatch and--”

“Overwatch saved the world,” said Efi.

“But we need to move away from it! That’s the point of the disbandment!” said Rei.

“And I’m a clone of one of the worst offenders of bioethics in history,” said Aedan, “I’m literally one of her offenses--” Rei elbowed Aedan slightly and Aedan caught himself. “Right--I mean, what I’m saying is, if you associate with me---”

“No buts,” said Efi, “This is about the future, and we’re all products of our time. We have to accept who we are, where we come from, and move forward, because this is bigger than us.”

Both Aedan and Rei stared at her for a few seconds.

“...what?” said Efi.

“Nothing,” said Aedan, “Just... you know you really are a great pick for the head of the Adawe Foundation right?”

“I have attempted to tell her multiple times!” Orisa chimed in, “I have run 14,346,917 simulations! And even in the event of total nuclear holocaust, she is an admirable leader!”

“Not everything is simulations, Orisa,” said Efi, pressing her fingertips to her forehead with good-natured exasperation, “How about we just get inside and grab some Suyu canapés?”

“Already excellent leadership decisions,” said Rei, as they headed up the stairs of the museum.

“Oh shut up,” said Efi with a huff.

---

Aedan was still nervously tracing his fingers the edges of the ring box in his pocket as he watched the bartender mix their drinks. He gave a glance back to Rei next to Efi’s podium, chatting with a few dignitaries and scientists who recognized her by her mother’s work. Her time in Hollywood was definitely bubbling to the surface, all sly smiles and little quips that told people just enough to keep them from pushing further. Aedan was fine on a stage, but he knew he’d probably be eaten alive if he were in her place. Still, he resolved to sweep in with the drinks as soon as he was able to get the crowds off of Rei’s back. They weren’t famous, of course, but being oddities was just as exhausting. A part of him was a bit more resentful than he really realized—hardly anyone here actually knew the value of what they had now, how hard-won it was.

“It’s surreal, isn’t it?” a voice spoke up beside him and Aedan startled and swung his head around to see Martina Canches-Lacroix in a one-shouldered jewel-toned purple gown, her usual over-the shoulder braid upgraded into a wavy waterfall studded with turquoise pins, “How many people in this room were rich enough to not be affected by Overwatch and Talon’s fighting in the slightest, and yet here they all are, clapping everyone on the back.”

“Marti?” said Aedan.

She gave him a sly grin.

“...did you thermoptic-cloak your way in here?” said Aedan, looking at her.

“Nope. You’re just distracted, as usual,” said Marti.

“You know, you kind of dropped off the face of the earth after Nepal...” Aedan started hesitantly.

“Had some stuff to take care of,” said Marti, as the bartender set a cosmopolitan next to her elbow.

“..are... are you crashing the gala?” Aedan’s voice dropped, “Is there a mission?”

Marti snorted. “You’re adorable. No, there isn’t a mission. I’m just a plus one.”

“Plus one?” Aedan repeated.

“I’m sure at this point, everyone’s sick of the words, ‘Unprecedented times,’” said Efi, looking out over the crowd and both Aedan and Marti perked up.

“I have to uh...” Aedan pointed to the two drinks the bartender had set out for him and Rei and then glanced back at Rei.

“We’ll talk in a bit,” said Marti, smiling as Aedan picked up his drinks and hurried next to Rei at the podium.

“Is that Marti--?” Rei started as Aedan took his place next to her but Efi continued with the speech and Rei glanced back at her.

“We are all still processing and healing from the global impacts of the incident at the Shambali Monastery,” said Efi, “And we still have a long way to go. We owe a debt of gratitude to the brave souls who fought and gave their lives there, a debt which may never be repaid, so the most we can do, is to not only re-build, but reimagine a better world. In the aftermath of the Omnic Crisis, we hailed its heroes, but then we put the yoke of reconstruction on them. In making Overwatch our saviors, we grew complacent, and when Overwatch buckled under the weight we put on it, we collapsed with it,” Efi drew in a steadying breath and gave a smiling glance to Orisa. “It’s not enough to build up a hero,” she went on, “It is not enough to ‘ooh’ and ‘ahh’ at deeds of heroism. What heroes are supposed to do is inspire that same heroism in us,” Efi glanced down, “With the passing of the Petras Act, it was said that we must be our own heroes now--Today I say that again, but under much more optimistic circumstances. The willing disbandment of Overwatch shows us that heroism is not merely bravery in the face of great evil, but knowing when to beat your sword into a ploughshare. And with the grants of the various foundations represented tonight, we can---”

A sharply dressed omnic stepped up and whispered in Efi’s ear and Efi pulled away from the mic, questioning in Yoruba. The omnic leaned in and whispered again and Efi’s jaw dropped. The omnic stepped away and Efi shook her head to compose herself. “My apologies,” she continued, “With your donations, and an...unprecedented and... frankly awe-inspiring grant from Ogundimu Prosthetics,” a laugh shook her voice, “We can begin the healing process.”

“Ogundimu Prosthetics?” Rei repeated, looking at Aedan.

“Maybe the board of directors want to move away from the whole Dooomfist thiii--” Aedan’s voice trailed off as he caught sight of a tall figure next to Marti at the bar, two stripes of ori ink highlighted his jawline, and his dimples as he laughed. They were snickering together, and he was leaning one elbow on the bar while playing with Marti’s hair with a state of the art prosthetic arm as she bit her thumbnail, giggling.

“Aedan?” Rei started but she followed his line of sight and her mouth dropped open.

Both Seye and Marti seemed to feel their eyes upon them and glanced over at them, giving them cat-that-swallowed-the-canary grins.

“...he’s alive,” said Rei.

“...He just donated an unholy amount of money to the Adawe Foundation,” said Aedan.

Marti and Seye pushed away from the bar and stepped toward them, hooking their arms together and bumping up against each other playfully. Efi was wrapping up the speech to rippling applause. Something about “thank you all for coming” but the four of them mindlessly clapped, not breaking eye contact with each other.

“Hey Twiggy,” said Seye, smiling at Aedan as Efi stepped away from the podium to disorienting camera flashes.

“Hey Beefcake,” said Aedan, more on reflex than anything.

A long pause passed between them.

“You made it out,” said Aedan.

“With help,” said Seye, giving a glance to Marti.

“Then we had to tie up some loose ends,” said Marti, “Make sure the book was closed on the whole ‘Doomfist Legacy’ thing.”

“Disband a mercenary group,” Seye said with a dismissive hand wave, “You know all about that at this point.”

Aedan caught a glint of gold on the ring finger of Seye’s remaining organic hand. “Is that..?” Aedan started.

“...may have made some other decisions too,” said Marti, flashing her own hand and the garnet and diamond ring on her finger. iShe gave a lip biting grin to Rei and Rei gasped hard.

“Martiiiii!” Rei exclaimed, hugging Marti tight and forcing her to pull her arm away from Seye.

“Oh get it together,” said Marti, snickering and patting Rei on the back.

“So… you proposed,” said Aedan, looking at Seye.

“It was getting to be about that time, wasn’t it?” said Seye.

“Yeah…” said Aedan, the ring box feeling both bulky and silly in his pocket, “About that time.”

“You’re maid of honor, of course,” said Marti, pulling out of the hug with Rei slightly.

“You’re not eloping?’ said Rei, tilting her head playfully.

“We were considering it,” Seye admitted, “Then someone’s Aunties tracked us down.”

“Well yeah! Marti, you had us all worried sick!”

“I thought my aunties relayed to you that I was okay?” said Marti.

“‘Okay’ isn’t the same as ‘Oh I’m on some cool shut-down-the-cult-of-Doomfist Roadtrip with my villain boyfriend and I just got engaged!’” Rei huffed.

“Anti-villain boyfriend?” Seye suggested.

“Anti-villain boyfriend--well, anti-villain fiancee, now, apparently!” said Rei, “We didn’t know where you were, we thought you were doing some crazy solo thing...”

“I wasn’t solo,” said Marti. She gave a glance to Aedan, “Mind if I borrow her for a sidebar?” she said, taking Rei’s hands.

“By all means,” Aedan gestured.

“Walk with me,” said Marti, pulling Rei away.

“How long ago was it?” Rei was asking, as she walked with Marti, “Did you pick out the rings together? Did you forge the rings from the Doomfist gauntlet? Oh that would be so cool--wait, actually that would be kind of messed up--” Rei’s voice faded into the crowd as Aedan turned his attention back to Seye.

“I told her the Watchpoint would be a bunch of chickens with their heads cut off without her,” said Seye, smiling after them.

“We managed,” said Aedan, with a smirking scoff, “Mostly hours of logistics... trying to make sure the resources are in place so Overwatch wouldn’t leave a vacuum behind...Samir, Ziegler, and Zhou did most of the heavy lifting with that stuff.”

“Boring stuff?” said Seye.

“You know, after Nepal, I have never been so happy to be bored in my life,” said Aedan.

Seye gave a short huff out of his nostrils,

“You look good,” said Seye.

“Thanks,” said Aedan, “You look good, too.”

Seye motioned with his head out to the balcony, “You want to put some distance between us and the crowd before they realize who our parents are?”

Aedan snorted. “Of course,” he said, as he and Seye walked out to the balcony.

“Congratulations,” said Aedan, “You know... Overwatch and Talon shit aside, you two really are made for each other.”

“You’d know that, wouldn’t you?” said Seye with a wry grin, leaning against the balcony guard rail, “I never got to thank you, you know. If you hadn’t defected...I might...”

Aedan glanced up at Seye, but Seye had trailed off, staring over Numbani. The city was beautiful beneath them, and somehow also fragile, like they were looking at a delicate crystalline construct that might collapse with the slightest touch. “I... don’t think I would have considered my options,” Seye finished, “...and I never apologized for all that ‘traitor’ shit.”

“I was a traitor,” said Aedan.

“Well yeah, but you weren’t a bad traitor,” Seye huffed a little, “So... I’m sorry, is what I’m saying.”

“You don’t have to apologize for anything,” said Aedan, “It was different for you. All that Doomfist stuff--”

“’The Doomfist doesn’t apologize,’” Seye spoke with a dramatic timbre, “...but I’m not the Doomfist. So that’s why I’m apologizing.”

“Look, all that was tied up in the fight. We don’t have to worry about that any more,” said Aedan.

“Well I’m also sorry for stealing your thunder,” said Seye.

“What?” said Aedan.

“You were going to propose tonight, right?” said Seye with a slight laugh.

“Wh-” Aedan started, “I mean, I was thinking about it---”

“Fancy gala, closure on the fight, pretty much a premium window for this kind of thing,” said Seye.

“Well--” Aedan started.

“And I could smell the fear on you. And I know that fear very well,” said Seye.

“You could not ‘smell the fear’ on me,” said Aedan with an eye roll.

“Okay, maybe not, but I did see the light go out of your eyes when Marti flashed her ring,” said Seye.

Aedan scoffed.

“So,” said Seye, “You found out I’m engaged, so you can’t do it tonight because then you’re going to spend your whole lives going ‘Did he just propose because Seye proposed?’ So you can’t do it now.”

“I could,” Aedan said stiffly.

“...but you’re a perfectionist, so you won’t,” said Seye.

“Ass,” said Aedan.

“Missed you too,” said Seye, “So... can I see it?”

“What?” said Aedan.

“I mean, you have it on you, right?” said Seye, “I want to see it.”

Aedan huffed and rifled through his pocket. “Just… no judgment, okay? I wanted something a little reminiscent of her stunt days and…she’s not a bland white diamond person, you know? What do you think?” he pulled the ring box out of his pocket and opened it to Seye.

“Hm,” Seye tilted his head and studied the ring for a few seconds. “It’s a good look,” he said, after a beat or two.

“Really?” said Aedan, his eyes lighting up.

“Yeah it suits her. The green—that’s uhhhhh Topaz?”

“Peridot,” said Aedan.

“Yeah it’s good. She’s going to love it,” said Seye, “I mean, I think it’s really—“

A shadow passed over the balcony and both Aedan and Seye glanced up to see Marti in the doorway leading back to the gala. Aedan wondered why she was looking at them both so oddly until he realized he was presenting a ring in a box to Seye.

“...Rei wanted to know what you wanted for drinks,” said Marti, a bemused smile tugging one corner of her mouth, “But I can go if-”

Seye snorted. “It’s fine. Just grab us a round of dirty shirleys and we’ll be with you in a minute. The bartender’s probably exhausted at this point.”

Marti chuckled and walked off, Seye stared after her, a stupid grin on his face. “She really is something,” he said, mindlessly. He looked back at Aedan. “Look,” he said, “I know... not having to fight any more feels like it’s not real, and it feels like you have to lock down anything good in your life as soon as you can because you feel like it can just... disappear in a second.”

“But it can--” Aedan said on reflex.

“I proposed to Marti three times,” said Seye, “The first time she said, ‘Shut up, you’re bleeding out’ the second time she said, ‘Stop proposing just because you think we’re going to die’ and the third time she said what I’m saying to you now: Something like this shouldn’t come from you being afraid of losing something. When it’s time, you’ll know. You’ll still be scared but... you’ll know.” He snickered. “Besides, you’re still a kid.”

“Kind of saved the world,” said Aedan, “Pretty sure that means I’m not a kid.”

“I saved the world, too. Like, 47 people saved the world. You’re not special,” said Seye with a smirk.

“You splintered Talon,” said Aedan, flatly.

“Which paved the way for saving the world?” said Seye, “I’m just saying... take your time.”

Another shadow passed over the balcony and they both glanced up to see Marti and Rei in the doorway, haloed in the light of the party within.

“We can still give you two a couple of minutes if you need it,” said Marti. The tumbler glasses in their hands looked like pink gems.

Aedan and Seye exchanged glances. “No, I.. think we’re good--Oh--one last thing--best man?” said Seye glancing at Aedan.

“What?” said Aedan.

“I said ‘Best man?’” said Seye.

“Oh...uh, yeah,” said Aedan, blinking a few times.

“I take it you rejected his marriage proposal?” said Marti, stepping up to Seye as he took his drink from her and kissed her cheekbone.

“The poor boy’s inconsolable and I just broke his heart,” said Seye, easily setting his chin atop her head, “Comfort me.”

Marti scoffed. “You’re ridiculous.”

Rei sidled up to Aedan on the balcony. She offered him his dirty shirley and he took it, nursing the grenadine-sweet fizz as Rei looked out over the city.

“So...” she started.

“So...” Aedan echoed after her and she just gave him a smile. He studied her profile, the green lights of Numbani casting her dark hair in emerald jewel tones, the gold of the city lights tracing a bright line along the bridge of her nose. He wondered what those deep gray eyes were searching for in that city--there had to be something wrong, something to fix, someone to help, they were so used to that line of thinking in all of their missions, and even in the time they had to themselves. Time to themselves still seemed such an alien concept, and yet, that was what they had now.

“...we’re probably going to have to go in and rescue Efi eventually,” she said, after a few long moments.

Aedan glanced back at the interior of the party, watching Orisa’s impressive frame easily acting as bouncer and bodyguard as Efi diplomatically fielded questions from different attendees of the Gala. Efi seemed relaxed. Elegant, even. Probably in a decent state of flow, given how well-received her speech was. Her love for Numbani and her passion for justice seemed to radiate off of her. A receiver of its Genius grant at age eleven and now, its head. The odd yet comforting thought that Akande Ogundimu would be proud of her crossed Aedan’s mind. And he didn’t doubt that it crossed Seye’s as well. “...I think we have time,” said Aedan.

“Mm?” Rei glanced over her shoulder back at the party. She huffed a little, watching a more tipsy-looking party-goer seem to better think about bothering Efi with one stern glance from Orisa. “...I guess we do,” she said. The agreement came to her hesitantly and Aedan just gently leaned his shoulder against hers.

“Still saving the world, huh, Rei?” he said quietly.

Rei nuzzled her head up under his. “Still saving the world,” she said with a smile.

#reidan #marsey #oh man how long was this in my drafts? since March???

32 notes · View notes

anonniemousefics · 4 years

Text

My Dearest Inej | Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Masterlist

Originally posted on AO3

Rating: Teen And Up

Synopsis: A series of letters kept among the personal belongings of Captain Inej Ghafa.

Chapter Sixteen: My Dearest Jailbird

Good morning, Sunshine!

If you are reading this, you are probably waking up alone and wondering where you are and how you got there. And your assumptions are correct – Wylan and I are indeed criminal masterminds who’ve drugged you and kidnapped you and sold you to the Shu. Now all of your suits are mine!

Yes, I’m joking. Don’t kill me. In all of this mess, the one thing I’ve found amusing is thinking of how this must all be playing out from your perspective. You take a dog for a walk, you fall asleep on my couch, you wake up surrounded by Shu. Sorry about that. The real truth is you were poisoned, pretty badly. Inej says the Shu have the best hospitals and mediks – you’re in Bhez Ju. And before you start complaining, we paid a lot of money to convince them to take you, so keep the whining to a minimum.

I know your Shu’s a little rusty, but Wylan is with you. His Shu is also rusty, but between the two of you, hopefully you’ll manage all right. As soon as you’ve got a clean bill of health (just physically speaking – no one’s assessing your laundry list of mental problems, don’t worry), Specht is prepared to bring you home.

That’s the where of it all with a bit of the why. I imagine you have a lot more questions. Why were you poisoned, for example? Great question, Kaz. I think it’s because you stabbed a twelve-year-old. Can you not do that again, please? It really pissed him off, and some old enemies happened to catch wind of it and then we had to fight them. Which enemies, you ask? Yes, with you, this statement does require some clarification; there are so many. The Haskells, Kaz. I know, your favorites.

They tried to seize control of the Dregs, but they had kind of banked on you dying. Thank the Saints you’re stubborn in that department. Inej came back and handled it. Oh, you want to know how? I’ll tell you how, but if you’re going to be gross about how amazing she was, do it in private, all right?

Right. Let me set the scene. It was early morning in the warehouse district, sun coming up over the harbor. We hadn’t slept in days. We’d whisked you to the coast to meet Specht just the morning prior, before sunrise. We’d pressured Wylan to go, too – it was unpleasant. There may have been tears. (Not mine, let’s get that on the record right now.) And then Inej was orchestrating a massive takedown. Anika was delivering missives while pretending to look loyal to Haskell. (Whatever you’re paying her, it’s not enough.) The crew of the Wraith was assembling. Pistols, knives, explosives. We were all ready for the showdown of the decade.

(For you, Brekker. I hope you’re picking up on this. You may be a bastard, but you’re our bastard. No one else is allowed to poison you but us.)

Inej had brokered terms with Haskell, and they had agreed to meet in the warehouse district. Haskell wanted a gentlemen’s duel – pistols at dawn -- which was downright laughable given the cheating tactics he’d already shown willing to employ. But Inej was eager to make a show of his humiliation for any remaining holdouts.

I was nervous, I’ll admit. Guns and bullets are my thing. I was not happy that she was acquiescing to Haskell’s wishes – she’s meant for knives. I’m learning, though, as I’m sure you are, that second-guessing Inej is a waste of energy.

And she assured me it wouldn’t matter whether she won or lost, not with the attack she was strategizing with her crew. She and Anika were working out how to use them to take out every one of Haskell’s snipers without word getting back to him. You know, the sneaky things Inej does best.

So, the morning of the duel arrives. Haskell and five of his associates stride in to the warehouse district, armed to the teeth in pistols and grenades. It feels very much my last morning in the world, and if Inej feels the same way, she doesn’t look it. She’s sharpened all of her knives all night until they’re practically mirrors, hidden away in all of her limbs, and I loaned her one of my pistols (I think I cried over that).

Rhett Haskell made some bloviating demands about how we were to hand you over when we lost, because of course he was unaware that you were already halfway to Shu Han, but that’s beside the point. Inej told him to shut up and name his second. They met in the middle of the street, back to back, and began their paces. I began counting them down.

This is when shit started to hit the proverbial fan.

Haskell had no intention of abiding by the rules and turned at the count of eight.

Inej anticipated, but Haskell had already drawn.

Anika was watching it all and gave the command. Inej leapt left, Haskell’s bullet singing past her face. She springs the quick release on the bone-handled knife you gave her.

And then the rest of the Dregs start pouring in at Anika’s orders just as Inej’s knife handle is sticking out of Rhett Haskell’s throat. They’re moving in to take out the rest of Haskell’s men.

Then in that same goddamn minute – The Stadwatch roll in. Rifles, batons, handcuffs, smoke grenades. They’re coming in with wagons and shields, rounding up anyone they can get their hands on, carting them off. It was Haskell’s last trick. He’d tipped them off. If he couldn’t have the Dregs, no one would.

Where was I in all of this? That’s a good question. Inej had named me her second. For a moment, I thought she’d been shot when I saw her go down to dodge the bullet, and I ran at her. I was aiming at anyone who’d get too close, and then, when she pulled herself up and I saw she was all right, we were back-to-back to fight our way out, pistols and knives at the ready.

But then, the Stadwatch. Kaz, you’ve got to believe that I was prepared to do whatever it took to get her out of there. If she wasn’t so heavily armed, I’d have even thrown her over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes, but she most definitely would have stabbed me if I’d tried. When the Stadwatch rolled in, she told me to run. It happened so fast, Kaz. She said I was the one who could arrange to have you cared for, arrange for the payments and such. She said I had to go. She fucking hit me in the face, Kaz, like really hard. So, I did what I was told.

So, that is both the good news and the bad news. And the infinitely worse bad news. The good news is the Haskells no longer maintain hold over the Dregs. The bad news, of course, is that the majority of the Dregs are in the custody of the Stadwatch. And the worst of it is that that number includes Inej. She will stand before a judge next month, who will almost definitely sentence her to Hellgate.

But don’t panic! We have time. You can write her; I visit her regularly with the solicitor I’ve procured for her case. And it’s just Stadhall right now. If you’re reading this, you’re awake, and you can help me figure out how to break her out. That’s a cake walk for you. Don’t panic. We have been in worse scrapes than this.

Do try to keep things light when you write her, though, all right? What happened to you hit her pretty hard. It’s been difficult to watch.

And, for Saint’s sake, thank Wylan for me. Daily. He doesn’t say it, but I know he’s furious.

Best wishes,

J. Fahey

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

My dearest Inej, most cherished jailbird in all of Ketterdam,

First things first, I’m all right. Probably infinitely better than you, actually. I can move all ten fingers and toes and speak in complete sentences, and I’ve never been so patronized in my life for such menial accomplishments. At least I think that’s what these Shu mediks are doing when I do something they want. It sounds very patronizing, anyway.

I won’t bore you with too many details, which could easily be done, because it’s very boring here. The food is bizarre and horrible. I’m forced to walk laps around the ward at least three times a day, no matter how badly my leg hurts, but I’m proud to report I’ve not strangled a single nurse, even though I’ve really wanted to. Wylan has even said I can tell you that I’m a “model patient” – although I did glare at him rather heavily to get him to agree to do so. You can let Jesper know we're getting on all right. He enjoys my card tricks the most out of any of you, so if I can't be stuck with you, at least it's him.

All of this is, of course, thanks to you. I’m caught up on the letters, and I can hardly believe it all. I owe you far more than a debt of gratitude. I owe you my life. I owe you an entire city. I owe you everything.

Which, of course, brings me to your predicament. I’m working on it. I have said I would come for you, and I have always meant it. I will, love, just as soon as I can manage it. I am spending every waking second until then scheming what needs to be schemed to get you out of this.

In the meantime, have you tried not getting caught? That usually works for me.

With love and with gratitude and with every bit of strength I have,

I’m yours,

K. Brekker

P.S. – And, for gods’ sake, tell Jesper to stop telling me not to panic. It’s literally the most panic-inducing thing a person can say, and the nurses keep saying it's bad for my constitution.

P.P.S. - What happened to Artie Galligan in all of this? Or is the answer to that question bad for my constitution as well?

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

Zenik,

I had to call in some favors to get this to you. Don't ask, but you are allowed to be impressed. I need your help.

-Brekker

#six of crows #soc #crooked kingdom #grishaverse #ketterdam #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #jesper fahey #wylan van eck #nina zenik #kaz x inej #kaz brekker x inej ghafa #fanfic #kanej fanfic #fanfiction #leigh bardugo

17 notes · View notes

crackedmagazine · 3 years

Text

In Memorial: Dick Kulpa

The CRACKED mag fan page is sad to announce that Dick Kulpa, the publisher of CRACKED mag near the end of its run as a magazine, has passed on….

Kulpa took on duties of the magazine after the sale of Globe (CRACKED’s publishing/distribution company in the late 80s-late 90s) to AMI occurred in late-1999/early-2000.

Kulpa attempted to overhaul and reinvent the style of the mag, and brought in many new creators to the publication at a time when massive budget cuts were being applied by AMI to the mag. New characters such as Simpy Dumpkins, Butch, and Mr. Precious were added to CRACKED under Kulpa’s editorship.

Eventually Kulpa outright bought CRACKED magazine, when AMI (publisher/distributor) had given up on the mag, publishing and editing the mag for its last couple years in a very admirable labor of love.

Below, some memories of Kulpa from various folks and colleagues… “Dick was a truly unique and wild character who will be missed. I'll never forget his willingness to take a chance on an unknown cartoonist from Saskatoon, and working for him at CRACKED was a highlight of my life. RIP, Dick.” - Huw Douglas Evans, artist/writer, former contributor to CRACKED mazagine… “I will always be indebted to DK for the breaks he gave me in WEEKLY WORLD NEWS and CRACKED… Writing for WWN and writing/editing for CRACKED are two accomplishments that I will always be proud of and for that, I owe you a debt of gratitude…. You believed in me at a time when not many others did,…Thank you for the opportunity to work with you on those publications … Stay strong, Captain.” - Scott Gosar, former Editor/writer for CRACKED mazagine “‘…He did give his side of the story about the end of CRACKED magazine for my book, and we tried to work together to bring same magazine back in more recent times.’ ‘…[CRACKED] magazine, … I always applauded him for trying to keep it going. R.I.P.” - Mark Arnold, comics historian, writer of the two "If You're Cracked, You're Happy" books “Dick Kulpa was a frequent guest at our events. He brought a nice stash of CRACKED Magazines with him and it was great talking with him. We will miss him dearly.” - SWFLSpaceCon representative…

#RIP #in memoriam #Dick Kulpa #cracked magazine #Cracked #CrackedMagazine #January 2021

4 notes · View notes

keelywolfe · 5 years

Text

FIC: Beneath an Aurora Sky ch. 10

Summary: The South Pole Station is equipped for research and Edge has always made sure things run smoothly for the inhabitants. His charges are meant to follow his rules and regulations, and in turn, he makes sure they survive in the arctic temperatures. It takes plenty of hard work and determination and Edge, along with his crew, can handle both.

He wasn’t counting on one of the newest researchers. He wasn’t expecting Rus.

Tags: Spicyhoney, First Time, Arctic AU, Hurt/Comfort

Notes: So, bourbon came up with an amazing AU and did some lovely art for it: please look at it and love it.

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four

Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Read Chapter 10 on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

When they walked into Alphys’s lab, Rus at Edge’s side and Red dangling over his shoulder like a sack of flour, all their resident scientist did was sigh loudly and take off her headphones.

It was good to see. When they’d first come Aboveground, Alphys had not been in a good state. The years Underground had not been kind and if it hadn’t been for her skills, the old King would have likely given her what he considered a merciful dusting.

Seeing her recovery was warming, proved that the station was the best place for them. The cold weather was a struggle for Alphys but she never minded staying inside anyway, preferring her lab and the occasional company the permanent residents provided. That and Undyne; they were an odd couple, loud and boisterous coupled with timid and softly spoken, but whenever they were together, their souls practically shone with love.

Also sexual tension, but Edge made a point of ignoring that, lest nightmares haunt him.

Her scolding wouldn’t have been possible when they first arrived; her stutter had been nearly complete and she still sometimes lapsed into Hands to get across certain points. But today she walked over with her fists on her hips and said sternly, “I t-t-told you not to force him to come.”

“this ain’t force, leapin’ lizard,” Red called from behind Edge’s back. “i was just tired a walkin’”

Alphys’s look told how much she believed that. But she allowed Red the pretense. For whatever convoluted reason, Red never wanted to admit how much he hated the treatments; it was possible he didn’t want to hurt Alphys’s feelings, but doubtful. That possibility had never stopped him from making his opinion known before. As always, his reasons were his own and Edge didn’t care to pry, so long as he eventually got his brother here.

“Well, c-come on, then,” Alphys gestured then towards the machine. Now that they were safely in the lab, Edge could set Red down with the reasonable assumption that he wouldn’t vanish the moment Edge took his hand away. It was a petty revenge to dumped Red roughly to the floor, ignoring the profuse swearing that rose up as he turned his attention to Rus.

Who only stood with his hands in his pockets, casting an idle glance here and there at the lab. It was almost disappointing; Alphys’s lab wouldn’t have been out of place in an old mad scientist movie. The machine alone was impressive, massive tubes fed into it along with a slender wires and electric cords, all leading to a simple cushioned chair. One that Red hopped into, settling in with the nonchalance of one about to take an afternoon nap.

There were very few people who would notice the slight tremor in his hands, and two of them were in the room. Before he settled in completely, Red whipped off his ski cap, exposing his skull.

Edge noted grimly the way Rus’s sockets widened when he caught sight of it, eye lights flaring in shock. His reaction was typical, most people that possessed a shred of compassion would be horrified to see the damage, the cracks that still webbed over the entire parietal bone. Few would believe that before the treatments it had been much worse. Once there had been a gaping hole in his skull large enough to fit a hand through, his entire left socket destroyed.

Over time, the machine forced the bone to regenerate and now the hole could hardly fit a finger, perhaps two. His brother no longer teetered close to dusting with any small injury and Edge owed Alphys a debt that could never be repaid.

Sweet creature that she was, she only blushed and stammered at gratitude and Edge no longer gave it; instead, he focused on giving her a safe place to work, a home where she could do her experiments and be happy with the person she loved. Hardly a fair trade in his opinion, but it wasn’t his that mattered.

But he had refused when Alphys offered to work on the crack that ran through Edge’s socket. That scar was a badge of honor, not one of shame. He’d wear it until the day he dusted.

Rus took a step closer and Edge wondered if his curiosity was over the machine, or more morbidly on Red. It was no surprise that his brother didn’t seem to care which option it was, only that Rus was here at all.

“don’t think you need to be poking around at shit that ain’t none of your business, fashion victim,” Red grumbled, although his sockets were closed.

Rus only shrugged amicably, holding up his empty hands. “i’m not touching anything. i learned how to keep my hands to myself as a baby bones. well, mostly,” he offered Edge a leer that made him roll his eye lights and Alphys titter from where she was working at the machine controls.

“H-he’s been here b-b-before,” Alphys offered softly. Her fingers were moving rapidly in an efficient contrast.

That was news to Edge, “When was this?”

“eh, couple days ago,” Rus said easily, “alphys and i were talking about some stuff.”

“what stuff?” Red said suspiciously, cracking open a socket. That Red hadn’t known Rus and Alphys were talking would not sit well with him and Edge found some discomfort in it, too. Alphys could be fragile and Undyne was very protective. He made a mental note to ask her if she was aware of their resident fashion victim making yet another friend to add to his collection.

Rus only smiled cheekily, “just stuff. science stuff.”

“oh, yeah, grad student?” Red sat up, scowling, “alphys knows her shit, you askin’ for theories? what’s your thesis on, anyway?”

“Don’t move!” Alphys squeaked. She left the controls and darted over to push on Red’s chest until he reluctantly subsided back to the chair. “He’s only t-t-teasing you, we talked about anime!”

“oh, ain’t that kawaii,” Red cooed, though his sugar-sweet tone did not match his scowl. “still didn’t tell me about your thesis.”

“nope, i didn’t,” Rus agreed cheerily. “it’s about this and that.”

That maniacal gleam in Rus’s eye lights was terribly reminiscent of Red and Edge was starting to think it might be better to for them to leave. This was partly his fault, he knew Red was on the fence about Rus, he shouldn’t have dragged the other skeleton into helping him corner his brother. Even if he’d been terribly effective at it.

“so, tell me,” Red challenged.

For all that his teeth were blunt, Rus’s grin was sharp enough to cut glass. “dunno, it might be over your head. your understanding might fall short.”

For a moment, Edge was honestly concerned his brother might attack Rus and that would lead to a very uncomfortable talk with the Institute.

Then Red threw his head back and roared a laugh, pounding on the armrest hard enough to jar the entire chair. He ignored Alphys’s hiss, turning in the chair to toss back at Rus, “that’s kinda high and mighty of ya, think it’s a stretch to assume.”

“maybe, but you’re probably used to low blows.”

“it’s a tall order.”

“yeah, i wouldn’t want to overlook you, don’t want to stoop that low.”

The entire exchange was making Edge regret several life choices, but Alphys was smiling faintly. With a jolt, Edge realized she’d already begun the treatment and Red hadn’t even noticed, too busy defending his honor as the resident punster. Normally, his brother would be lying in the chair, fists clenched and sweat dripping while he struggled to allow the machine to do its work. Now he was distracted and gleefully antagonistic, firing back pun after pun. The machine finished before they did and it was only Edge taking hold of Rus’s arm, pulling him along, that finally ended the war.

“—need to work on your low standards!” Rus called as Edge tugged him out the door.

Before it could swing shut, he could hear Red crow triumphantly, “you already used that one! next time i’ll hafta ride on your shoulders and teach you the way of the jedi!”

Rus laughed delightedly, finally allowing Edge to lead him away. “he’s a goblin, but he’s got jokes.”

“Very apt,” Edge said dryly. They were in one of the walkways that led to Alphys’s lab with few overhead lights. Not as open as the umbilicus that she was testing, but still filled with portholes that revealed the aurora starting overhead. The soft greens cast shadows that moved eerily in the dimness. “Thank you for your help, I’ll let you get back to your work.”

“nah, it’s cool,” Rus tucked his hands in his pockets, rocking on his heels. “i’ve got some numbers to compile before i can do anything else.” He paused, sockets hooded and his eye lights soft, then asked, “did you want to come back to my room?”

It was as blatant an offer as they’d ever exchange, no safety net of teasing flirtation, and Edge hesitated. It was tempting, the warmth of invitation in Rus’s eye lights promised a very good time. Despite Undyne’s insinuations, Edge was not a virgin, but it had been a long while, since before they’d come to the surface. The urge to see Rus’s face twisted with pleasure, to hear the delightful sounds he would make waged a brief war with his sense of responsibility.

So very tempting, but he had duties to fulfill, ones that he’d already set aside to deal with Red.

“I can’t,” Edge told him, quietly. He braced himself for some form of persuasion, some new enticement he’d need to resist, wondered distantly at the limits of his control.

But Rus only nodded. “okay. see you around.”

“Wait.”

He stopped, head tilted curiously, and his pale bones were tinted with the aurora light creeping in. Edge stepped in close, lifting his chin to press their mouths together. The taint of cigarettes had faded and there was only sweetness, his tongue moving boldly against Edge’s, sharing that honeyed flavor even as he stole a taste of his own. A hand settled on Edge’s face, cool bone against his overheated skull and Edge was forced to swallow a moan. They parted reluctantly, and Edge could feel the pocket of warmth between them, their magic responding with mindless eagerness.

“I can’t right now,” Edge corrected his own words.

Rus gave him a small, secret smile. “yeah. soon then, edgelord.” He started to turn away then stopped, “wait, shit, all my equipment is still in the locker up front.”

Edge barely hesitated before taking out his keys, the mass of them jangling loudly as he removed one and tossed it to Rus. He nearly fumbled it, managed to grab it before it fell to the ground. “Don’t lose it.”

“oooh, exchanging keys already,” Rus winked at him, ignoring Edge’s exasperated huff. Edge only gave him a hard look until Rus smiled wryly, making a little cross over his soul with one finger. “i won’t lose it, promise.”

“See that you don’t.” He turned and walked away then, before the simmer of temptation became too much to bear.

~~*~~

He had cause to regret it later.

On his last check of the station before he went to bed, Edge heard muffled laughter coming from the kitchen. Familiar, loud laughter and he sighed inwardly and went to check.

What he found made him sigh again, this time in aggravation. Undyne, of course, with two of the female researchers and Rus. One of the bottles on the table in front of them was a dead soldier and the other was half-empty. Not much for Undyne, but from the glassy eyes and giggles from her companions, they'd had their fair share.

Rus beamed at him, only slightly more enthusiastically than the researchers, and an echo of slurred 'boss!' carried towards him. He shook his head. "Undyne--"

"Aww, calm down," she hiccoughed, laughing raucously, "didn't hurt the precious! he's only had like two!

"Yes, and skeleton Monsters don't possess a liver,” Edge crossed his arms over his chest and glared at his second-in-command. “Our tolerance is completely dependent on our weight and level of magic. Would you care to hazard a guess as to what he weighs?"

Undyne blinked owlishly, considering, and then to his horror, she scooped Rus up, hefting him as he squealed a laugh. She laughed with him, spinning around sloppily before finally dumping him gently on top of the table where he sagged, sprawling across it.

“again!” Rus giggled weakly.

“Huh,” Undyne prodded at him with one clawed finger. It must have tickled, because Rus nearly spasmed, his laughter doubling. “Prolly enough that two drinks hit him like a sledgehammer.”

“You think?” It took a little effort to gather him up. Drinking made Rus surprising noodly for a skeleton, limbs escaping to hang limply while Edge tried grimly to hold him close. “Come on, time for bed.”

That got his attention. Rus squirmed in his arms, ostensibly trying to help Edge hold on as he wound his arms around Edge’s neck. "you're taking me to bed? again?”

Undyne snorted loudly and Edge felt his cheekbones heat. He liked to think they hadn’t been entirely blatant in their flirting, but now the two researchers were perking up with visible interest. Lovely, the rest of the station would know by morning. He wondered grouchily if Rus had inadvertently just won someone a bet. Probably his brother.

“Can you get these two to bed?” Edge asked her, ignoring all looks, both curious and knowing, along with Rus snuggling happily into his arms.

“Yeah, I got ‘em,” Undyne gave him a needle-sharp smile, “Have a good night, boss.”

Tomorrow, he was going to remind himself why he couldn’t kill her. For tonight, it was simply a good thing that his hands were full.

“Come on,” Edge sighed, shouldering open the door. Rus wasn’t heavy, but he was awkward to carry, and his hands weren’t still, tracing his cervical vertebrae with only slightly clumsy fingers. The touch made him shiver and Edge walked a bit faster.

“I hope you have a laundry token,” Edge told him, “Your shirt needs washed, you smell like a distillery.”

“s’your shirt, isn’t it?” Rus slurred. One of his hands slithered down, making Edge bite back a hiss, and plucked at his shirtfront.

He almost denied it, but, “Yes,” Edge agreed, softly. “I gave you some of my clothes.”

Rus’s beamed up at him triumphantly, “knew they were yours! they smelled like you.” He lifted his head, whispering too loudly into Edge’s audial canal, “firs’ i was thinking you felt sorry for me, but then i thought...i thought maybe you liked me? did you like me?”

The hopefulness in his voice hinted at something desperate, perhaps only drunken melancholy, Edge couldn’t know. Better if he didn’t acknowledge it, and Edge said, lightly, "What's not to like?"

Rus scrunched up his face and blew a sloppy raspberry, and Edge bit back an exasperated smile. “lotsa people don't like me.”

“I can't even begin to imagine why, Rus,” Edge told him honestly. Certainly he’d charmed his way into the station, Monsters and researchers both.

“i dunno, either,” Rus said, sullenly. “but they don't. He looked up and his sockets were engulfed with his eye lights, hazily wide and pleading. “do you like me?"

It was far too easy to admit. "Yes. I like you.”

“i knew it!” Rus crowed. “only, i didn' really know it. but i thought it. i hoped it.” He fell silent, snuggling into Edge’s arms as he whispered, “you’re not staying in my room, are you.”

Again, that faint hint of unhappiness, of desperation. But staying while Rus was like this, drunkenly tempting, was out of the question. Edge settled on a compromise. “I can stay until you’re asleep.”

“’kay,” Rus agreed, and Edge thought ruefully he was in for a short wait. Possibly only long enough to settle him on the bed, Rus was already drowsing in his arms, one hand clutching the front of Edge’s shirt as if to keep him close. It loosened easily enough as Edge set him into his bunk, taking off his shoes and tucking his blanket around him.

Rus barely stirred as Edge pressed a light kiss to his browbone. His scent was whiskey-tainted, but Edge breathed it in anyway.

“I do like you,” Edge whispered to him, tracing the angular line of his jaw with a single finger. Rus didn’t so much as murmur an acknowledgement, only breathed softly, evenly in sleep.

Next time, Edge told himself, next time he would stay.

Whatever his misgivings were, he no longer cared. Rus was a growing temptation in body and soul, Edge was finished resisting.

~~*~~

tbc

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #underfell sans #alphys #undyne #beneath an aurora sky

50 notes · View notes

rptv-starwars · 4 years

Text

Charles Lippincott - Star Wars‘ unsung hero

- Back in 1976, George Lucas was hard at work on a masterpiece. But without a brilliant publicist like Charles Lippincott, few people would have gone to see it.

That sounds like an overstatement; I don't think it is.

Mark Hamill once said in an interview (on VH1 "When Star Wars Ruled the World") that when they showed the trailer in theaters, an obnoxious man in the audience yelled that it would end up on late night televsion 2 months later.

Star Wars Episode IV (later named "A New Hope") is considered the first blockbuster that was strategically planned (i.e. not organic), and it was due primarily the hard work of one man: Charles Lippincott.

[And not just Star Wars: he practically revolutionized the way movies were promototed, and all others have followed suit ever since.]

Why did countless people line up to see Star Wars in 1977 the day it came out? There was no internet and TV advertising was expensive. George Lucas was not yet a multi-billionaire and he didn't have the clout he has now (Fox almost pulled the plug on his movie as they were wrapping up the final scenes; 20th Century Fox executive Alan Ladd Jr. [who star wars fans owe a debt of gratitude], was able to temporarily keep the pressure off Lucas from the other Fox executives until the film wrapped up).

Lippincott is the reason why Star Wars found its audience, who in turn made it a massive hit.

Lippincott hit the road and promoted the movie where it mattered: conventions. Lippincott got the hardcore science fiction and fantasy (SFF) fanbase totally invested in seeing Star Wars. This was probably his most important contribution; had he not done this, Star Wars might not have succeeded.

There were three conventions essential in Lippincott’s plan on getting the word out to existing SFF fans: Westercon in July 1976 in Los Angeles, San Diego Comic-Con that same month, and most boldly, Worldcon (better known as MidAmeriCon, held in Kansas City, MO), in September of 1976.

San Diego Comic-Con was a relativley young convention (still in its first decade). Famous Guests that year included Sergio Aragonés (from MAD Magazine), Mel Blanc (the famous voice actor), and Joe Shuster (of Superman fame) – but they also got a panel with Marvel writer Roy Thomas and artist Howard Chaykin, showing a preview of an upcoming release known as "Star Wars". Nearly a year before the film’s release, Lippincott made the then-unconventional decision to present a 35mm slide show of stills from the film, and also provided slick black and white posters that said, “Star Wars: Coming to Your Galaxy This Summer.”

He also provided another poster at the panel, with artwork by Chaykin (which is now a highly sought after collectors item worth thousands of dollars), and can be found below on my tumblr blog:

https://rptv-starwars.tumblr.com/post/616355444997455872/star-wars-episode-iv-first-promotional-poster-by

It's not an exaggeration to say that every subsequent blockbuster film that has found success promoting itself to thousands of fans in "Hall H" (the 65,000 square foot room at Comic-Con [now considered "the Convention of all Conventions,”] and called "the most important room in Hollywood" by the Los Angeles Times) owes a debt to Lippincott.

WorldCon in Kansas city received a larger panel which also featured Producer Gary Kurtz and a little-known actor named Mark Hamill. The panel not only presented an expanded slide show, but discussed the entire plot of the film and featured an audience Q-and-A. Lippincott also manned the film’s display space that weekend (featuring costumes, posters, and buttons) which became so popular after the panel that he ran out of the promotional material by the second day.

In addition, Lippincott ran promotions for the movie on college radio stations

He also secured merchandise tie-ins with Marvel Comics, Kenner Toys, and others, establishing Star Wars as a cross-platform media giant. His creative promoting kept the intellectual property in the public eye and helped satisfy ravenous public demand, catapulting Lucasfilm toward the type of success necessary to create and finance its sequels (before the success of Star Wars [A New Hope], George Lucas apparently didn't think he would be making another Star Wars movie).

For those of us who played with Star Wars toys or read the early comics, we have Lippincott to thank. And Star Wars is still a franchise merchandising powerhouse to this day.

Like most "behind the scenes" types (who do all the work but get no glory), many people have not heard of Charles Lippincott. Shamefully, I myself had never even heard of him until a few days ago (despite being a Star Wars fan since 1977). So that is why I'm writing this; to make up for this unsung hero of Star Wars.

Lippincott passed away in Vermont on May 19, 2020 at the age of 80 following a brief hospital stay after a heart attack.

Thank you sir for all of your hard work. Not only did you make Star Wars profitable; you helped make many children happy (especially Gen X kids like myself). Rest in Peace.

_____________________________ Some of the information above was taken from various sources including Good Morning America, Krypton Radio, and Den of Geek.

_____________________________ Fun fact: When Lippincott first approached Stan Lee at Marvel Comics to produce a 6-issue Star Wars adaptation, Lee initially refused. He later agreed to the deal, and the comic run quickly sold out.

One more fun fact: Lippincott, Like George Lucas, attended USC. [And they didn't have to buy their way in, either.]

Lippincott helping Darth Vader make is cement footprint at Grauman’s (later Man’s) Chinese Theater in Hollywood, August 03, 1977.

Charles Lippincott and Mark Hamill at a Star Wars press tour in Japan.

#star wars #a new hope #charles lippincott #marketingstrategy #promoters #original trilogy #george lucas #lucasfilm #20th century fox #comic-con #blockbuster

2 notes · View notes

ryder-s-block · 5 years

Text

Jaig Eyes (Ch 32)

Jaig Eyes (32/?)

Captain Rex x OC

Always available here.

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

Chapter Thirty-Two: Risky Choices

“99!” I heard Echo shout, like in my vision. “No!”

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

I could risk everything. Right in that moment. I could save 99 and hope that the clones in the room would say nothing. Or I could let the vision I’d seen come true. Stay in hiding. Stay safe.

Echo raced forward, desperate to take out as many droids as he could as 99 found his feet again, slinging the bag over his arm. Rex looked desperate, but unsure what to do.

I closed my eyes, my hand lifting.

Screw it.

“Kida,” Rex started, shock and worry overpowering his fear for 99. My eyes opened in determination as I rolled to a crouch, facing 99 entirely, my hand still outstretched. Beside me, Cody paused, looking back in confusion. “Don’t--” Rex started, but it was too late. I was intent on ignoring him.

As the two shots I knew to be his killers zoomed past me, I willed the force to obey me. I didn’t ask nicely. I didn’t ask permission. I demanded that it listened to my will.

And for some reason, through my desperation and refusal to allow an event to come to pass...it listened.

My fingers clenched with focus, sweat sprouting on my forehead as 99 was thrown down by the force. He seemed scared. Confused. I had thrown him down, but the blaster shots had still hit him. Though, there was only one chest wound, the other being on his shoulder. I reached out in the force. He was hurt...but he was alive.

I decided that hesitating was for a hut’uun. I stood, turning back towards the droids, my pistols raised. For some reason, I was completely calm. Determined. Focused. The blaster shots slipped past me almost slowly...like I could see them coming before they actually did. They zipped past my body easily, never touching my armor.

“Commander Cody,” Skaak Ti said through the comms.

“Yes sir,” I heard him say, shaking off the shock from what he’d just seen.

“The droids have been pushed back to the main hangar.”

That was certainly good news. It meant the men I’d fought with before had regained their ground. And that Kamino was safe. Hopefully, so long as Anakin succeeded in protecting the DNA.

With the newfound thirst for vengeance, considering the clones didn’t know 99 was alive, the droids were defeated quickly. The cadets reemerged from the sleeping pods as I walked towards 99 briskly. They kicked at the fallen droids, excitedly realizing that we’d won.

I knelt beside 99, pulling him onto his back. He wasn’t breathing much. I breathed my nose slowly, placing my hand over his chest wound. I didn’t know how to do it...but it seemed to have worked with Ahsoka all those months ago. Back when I was sure we were all going to die from a virus we all thought was extinct.

That felt like a lifetime ago.

I closed my eyes, feeling his weakening heart. His struggling lungs. Fluid was building up in his chest, due to his chest wound. I pushed my feelings into his chest instead, forcing the fluid away. His breathing became easier. Sure, the fluid would come back. But as I willed his body to heal, even a little, I knew that the medics could help him.

I knew that he’d live.

“99!” Echo yelled, he and Fives rushing to my side, where I knelt beside their brother.

“He’s alive,” I said softly as they stopped next to me, both of them removing their helmets to inspect him. I glanced up as Rex and Cody approached, Rex removing his helmet to reveal a worried face. It wasn’t for 99, though. It became clear that the expression was for me, as he glanced at Cody, who had yet to remove his helmet. Despite that, I felt his gaze on me. Boring through my skull to try and figure out what threats I could possibly pose.

“What were you doing, 99?” Fives whispered hoarsely, his hands skating uselessly across 99’s chest.

“He was being a soldier,” I said curtly, bringing my comm to my mouth and tapping it to life. “General Ti, please send a medic to the barracks. We have a man down.”

“There are many casualties around the city,” she responded immediately, “Could you get your man to a medical bay, or does he need a satellite team?”

I looked down at 99, seeing his face contort with pain as he regained consciousness. “Standby,” I said softly, touching 99’s shoulder gently. “Easy,” I said to 99 now. “You’ve been shot.”

“I-I know,” he responded, wincing. “But before--”

“Nevermind that,” I interrupted immediately, just barely keeping myself from glancing back at Rex. As much as I wanted to, if my cover was blown, I didn’t want anyone knowing that Rex had known and been in on the secret. “Can you stand?”

“Of course he can’t,” Echo started, exasperated. “He’s been shot--”

I shot the man a look, silencing him. “Let him try.”

“I-I can do it. I know I can.”

I couldn’t help but smile, offering my hand to 99, who took it gratefully. I practically heaved him to his feet, the man barely able to stand without my help. Fives and Echo stepped forward immediately, dipping under 99’s arms and taking his weight off of me. “Let’s get him to a med bay,” I said gently, leading the way without looking up at Rex and Cody.

As we passed the cadets, Jax stopped, his face cracked with a small smile. “Thanks for your help, Kida,” he said quietly. “Again.”

I chuckled, 99 even managing a grin. “Hey, if you keep popping up on all these adventures, you’re going to be an ARC trooper before you even graduate from this place.”

Jax laughed, shaking his head at me. But, I could see the gratitude in his eyes.

Thankfully, considering we were in a massive cloning facility, there were a lot of med bays. Thus, we arrived at one rather quickly, despite the bustling around it. Injuring clones littered the corridors outside the medical wing, waiting to be helped. Those that were waiting had small wounds...non-life threatening.

I took that as reason to plow my way into the medical bay, considering my man was going to die without help, no matter what force tricks I used. When I entered, I saw clone medics everywhere, including Kix. Said clone began to approach when a Kaminoan stepped before him, blocking his path.

“Taun We,” I greeted, doing my best to not spit her name. I had nothing personal against her, but she was as cold as the other cloners. The men and boys I’d fought beside that day were not people, but a product, in her eyes.

“Captain,” she said back, having clearly conversed with Lama Su. “What are you doing here?”

“One of my men was badly injuring in the battle,” I said formally, gesturing behind me to reveal 99, wedged between Fives and Echo. Rex and Cody weren’t behind us anymore, and I chose not to worry. It was likely that Cody was running off and reporting what I’d done. Hell, maybe Rex was, too.

“A maintenance clone?” Taun We asked, recoiling slightly. “Why would I waste my resources on him when I have other, more able-bodied clones, to treat?”

I simmered under her gaze, my lips pursing in distaste. “Because he’s one of your clones, who was injured while contributing to this battle,” I started, trying to keep my temper under wraps.”

Taun We waved her hand, moving to walk away. “I will not put this clone’s life above others.”

“I’m not asking you to,” I argued as evenly as I could manage. “I’m saying to not place his life below any of the others. Save his life.”

“He is not worth the resources,” she dismissed.

It occured to me, in that moment, that considering whatever report Rex and Cody may have been giving, I was possibly about to lose any rank I held in the GAR. Might as well use it while I could.

I grabbed her arm as she tried to turn away again, pulling her back to face me. All the clones around us froze in fright. No one ever grabbed the Kaminoans. I stood as tall as I could--which looked pretty short beside her--and stuck my finger in her face.

“I’m not asking, Doctor,” I spit, officially angry. “I’m ordering you to save this clone’s life and treat him as you would any of these other clones that were injured in the battle to protect their homes--which, I’ll remind you, if also the facility that makes you obnoxiously wealthy!”

“You forget your place,” she tried scolding, her head held high.

The room rippled with the darkness that pooled off of me, my gaze cold. “No, you forget my place. Not just my position in the Republic, but my position in the underworld. The people in my pocket. The mobsters and politicians alike you owe me debts.”

“Are you...threatening me?” she asked incredulously.

I couldn’t fight the smile on my face, seeing all the clones watching Taun We squirm. “Did I not make it clear enough?” Despite her attempt at looking impassive, I felt her twinge of fear at my calm smile. I lowered my voice, so only she, Kix, and I could hear. “So why don’t you get to helping out this soldier who was willing to give his life to keep the barracks safe? Hmm?”

Taun We watched me closely. I knew there’d be hell to pay, whether it be down the grapevine from the Republic or from the Kaminoans themselves. I didn’t really care. 99 would be treated, I concluded happily as she nodded slowly.

I stood, giving Kix a nod in greeting while he and another medic took 99 from my friends, a small echo reaching my ears.

“Jorso'ran kando a tome.” I looked around at the sound of the familiar song, the lyrics hitting my eardrums with beats of nostalgia.

“Sa kyr'am nau tracyn kad, Vode an.” The clones were singing. Softly. Enough to not be the loud chant I’d once heard it was. But it came from the mouths of those resting in the beds. From those tending to the wounded. From the clones waiting in the halls.

“Kandosii sa ka'rta, Vode an.”

Fives touched my shoulder gently, his face filled with pride as he looked around the room, taking in the chant beside me. I looked up at him, giving him a small, disbelieving smile.

“They’re chanting for you,” Echo breathed, touching my other shoulder.

My comms beeped as I was about to respond, making me flinch slightly. “Captain,” I said, noticing the signal from Rex’s comm.

“Kida,” he said formally, telling me he wasn’t somewhere private. “When you’ve delivered 99 to the med bay, the three of you should report to the western hangar.”

I swallowed, my nerves aflame with worry. “Yes, sir.”

Echo and Fives gave me worried looks, considering my little outburst, but nodded their heads towards the door, nonetheless. I sighed, leading them from the med bay and past the soldiers lined up there. Their lips moved only slightly, their chant following us down the strikingly white halls.

“Motir ca'tra nau tracinya.”

As we drew closer to the hangar, even the two clones behind me could see the tension in my shoulders. What was going to happen? I’d openly shown my abilities to a clone that was notorious for following the rules. I’d be reported. Maybe the Jedi Council would have me imprisoned, just so I wasn’t a threat to them.

Would they have me killed? Were they so cold-blooded? They were certainly paranoid enough…

Slipping past the destroyed Republic shuttles, having been crushed by the Trident Drill crafts, we stepped out into the chilly air of Kamino again. I breathed in slowly, closing my eyes as stopped near the edge. The endless breeze and misting rain cascaded over my face, soothing me.

“Are you...alright?” Fives asked softly, standing behind me.

I breathed slowly, looking out over the raging waves. “When I first came to Kamino with Jango,” I sighed, reminiscing. “I’d never seen so much water before in my life. I’d seen rain, but nothing like the storms you get here. Prior to Concordia, I hadn’t really seen rain in years.” I felt the brother’s confusion, making me smile. “Kadavo and Tatooine don’t get a lot of precipitation.”

“Was it scary?” Echo asked suddenly, looking past me towards the water. “The storms, I mean. We got used to them, but when we were just cadets...I remember some of the worst ones keeping our entire troop up.”

I hummed thoughtfully. “There was a terrible storm, worse than any I saw over the years after, when I was first here. I was terrified...but Jango forced me to relax. He took me to a hangar like this one and forced me to sit and watch it.”

“That’s... “ Fives struggled to find the words, but I could feel his distaste.

I chuckled. “It seems cruel, I know. But I was grateful for it. He sat next to me during the storm and told me the story of Akaanati’kar’oya.” A twinge of recognition pulsed in the two men. I leaned against the hull of the Trident Drill that laid on the hangar beside us, my arms crossing. “He helped me see the beauty in the storm. Helped me recognize that it was good, because it was such an incredible change from what I’d grown used to.” I smiled to myself, finally turning to look at Fives and Echo. “I always stayed up to watch storms after that. Even now, I find myself watching storms on whatever planet I’m on...even without Jango.” I glanced away again, having seen Rex and Cody approaching in my peripheral vision. “None of them have compared to this, though.”

“I’ve...never looked at it that way,” Echo admitted, offering me a small smile.

I was about to respond, but stopped when I heard Rex’s voice. “Echo. Fives,” he said in greeting as they approached. I stayed facing the water, leaning against the crashed craft, my eyes chasing the waves below.

Fives and Echo stood at attention behind me, awaiting whatever their commanding officers had to say. “You both really stepped up in the heat of battle,” Cody started, making my ears perk. I tilted my head ever so slightly to listen. A part of me had wondered if Cody and Rex would just dismiss the guys to scold me. Or maybe use them to arrest me.

I chastised myself mentally. Rex wouldn’t do that. Despite the doubts swirling in my mind, I knew he wouldn’t. He couldn’t.

“We did what we had to do, sir,” Echo responded formally. Still, I could feel the pride rippling in both him and his brother.

Fives spoke now. “What any clone would have done.”

Rex stepped forward, moving a bit closer to me. “Both of you showed valor out there. Real courage. Reminded me of me, actually.”

No one else reacted with humor, but I nearly did. I cleared my throat as quietly as I could, masking the snort of laughter that had forced its way from my chest. I’d known Rex was a dedicated and fearsome man. But...I’d never pegged him as vain.

Maybe he wasn’t, but the occurrence showing his pride was amusing to me.

“Echo, Fives,” Cody said, drawing my attention again. “You’re both officially being made ARC troopers.”

Shock and pride surged from the two men, mixing with my own. I smiled openly, but kept facing the water. Still, I’m sure they could see my head lift, along with the puffing of my cheeks from my grin.

“I don’t think the Separatists will be coming back anytime soon,” Rex commented. “But if they do, Kamino will be lucky to have clones like you defending it. Good job, men.”

The four saluted, the younger two alight with excitement and pride.

“Dismissed,” Cody said curtly, both Fives and Echo casting me glances of worry and happiness before they stepped away.

Rex cleared his throat behind me, forcing me to finally turn away from the raging ocean and to his golden gaze. “What?” I asked, forcing a smirk on my face. “Am I being made an ARC trooper, too?”

Rex’s lips quirked slightly, but it faded just as fast. “No, Captain.” My heart sunk at his formal address.

“So why call me here if you just wanted to talk to the boys?”

Cody sighed behind Rex, gently pushing his hesitating brother out of his way. “I don’t know how you hid it this long, but we both saw what you did in the barracks.” I sucked in a worried breath, holding it while I waited for the man to continue. “I don’t know why Rex feels compelled to protect you, but he’s denying all that happened.” I glanced at Rex, seeing that he had taken up my position, staring over the water. “So since he feels inclined to not share, I’m leaving it to you.”

My gaze snapped back to Cody, my eyes wide. He was asking me to tell the truth. “I...am not sure what you’re asking me to say.”

Cody moved closer, any sign of kindness gone as he tilted his head to look down at me. “Did you or did you not use the force to push 99?”

“Would it matter if I did? If I did, I’d have saved his life.”

Cody’s hands reached out quickly, gripping my arms almost painfully. “Did you. Or did you not.”

Even Rex seemed more on edge, turning to look at the two of us in mild fear. “99 was shot in the leg. I saw him fall, just as you did.”

Cody sighed lowly, releasing me as he stepped back. “You’ve disappointed me, Kida.” He turned to walk away, his mind reeling. He knew I was lying.

“What are you going to do?” I called after him. “Report me to Kenobi?”

“It’s my duty,” he said back, not looking at me. It was just like how Rex had said it...all that time ago, back with Cut and his family.

I watched for a moment as Rex hesitated to chase after his brother. With a low breath, I lifted my head high. “The Jedi Council already knows,” I declared, making both clones pause and look at me.

“Kida,” Rex said softly, urging me to quiet down. I understood his logic. If Kenobi already knew, Cody reporting to him would be no issue. But that wasn’t enough for me.

“And what does it matter to you?” I continued, moving after Cody. “I saved your brother today.”

“You’re not a jedi,” Cody declared, his gaze a mix of worry and fear.

“No.”

“Then what are you?”

I shook my head, looking down at my gloved hands. “Untrained. On all accounts. I’ve only just started learning to control it, from watching the jedi.” Cody still hesitated, watching me warily. “I’m not a threat, Cody.”

“Are you sure of that?”

Huh. In reality, he had a bit of a point. The jedi were afraid of me because of my Sith heritage. I’d been having darker thoughts ever since I spoke with Vizsla. Not to mention the dark presence that had shown up in my dreams. Was I sure that I wasn’t a threat? With my abilities only growing...what if I lost control? Hurt the people I...loved?

When I didn’t answer, Cody turned on his heel and walked away, likely to report to Kenobi himself. Rex stepped towards me, but I turned away.

“Thanks for the help,” I said lowly, my voice like ice.

“What did you want me to do?” he asked, forcing me to turn and look at him. “If I spoke, I’d be lying to a superior officer. I defended you by saying nothing.”

“And if the Council comes back and has me arrested?” I responded, meeting his gaze. “Would you still say nothing?”

Rex’s mouth dropped open, as if he was going to respond, but paused...unsure. That was enough of an answer for me. I pulled away from his hand, walking back across the hangar and into the city.

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

I wasn’t sure how I’d found my way there, but my feet had guided me to the doorway I’d come to only dream about. My hand hesitated at the panel of the sparkling white door for only a moment before activating it.

The door slid open, revealing a room that looked untouched. I was surprised, actually, considering the Kaminoans’ tendency for efficiency. Then again, what purpose would they have for a suite if Jango was dead? What could it be used for now?

I swallowed thickly before stepping into the familiar housing. It was a bit messy, both from disuse and from what looked like a hasty packing--likely from when Jango and Boba had to flee the planet. My eyes caught something metallic on the floor, making me stoop to pick it up beneath the fallen Mandalorian tapestry and boots from a younger Boba.

It was a holoprojector. I recognized the residual stains from the time Boba had decided to paint its base, only for Jango to make him wash it off--along with the other doodles that had appeared on the walls that day.

It looked like it had been thrown to the floor. It wasn’t an accident. Perhaps done in anger? Sadness?

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

I was hit with the image of a younger Boba, his face blotchy and tear-streaked. He entered through the doorway, soaked with rain, his boots still stained with the dark sand of Geonosis. He looked around the room, hair flopping in his face, as if he expected something.

It occured to me that some part of him was waiting for myself or Jango to appear. It registered for him that neither of us were there. Jango was dead. He’d sent me away.

The boy collapsed in tears for only a few moments before the room shifted, filling with anger. Anger at me for not stepping in. Anger at his father for getting himself in that mess. For leaving Boba up on that balcony while he foolishly went to fight a jedi.

Boba rose from the floor, angry tears still streaming down his face, as he rushed to the Mandalorian tapestry and ripped it from the wall. It fell, tearing down other ornaments that had once been precious to him. In the dim glow of the night lighting, Boba caught sight of the only holo-photo in the room. It flickered just slightly as he approached the faintly blue colored illumination, his hand trembling.

I watched as Boba lifted it to his face, examining the three figures. Jango was in the middle, a rare smile on his face. He didn’t show any teeth, but the smile lines around his eyes were crinkled, showing that the grin was genuine. On his right, tucked under his arm and smushed against his side, was a smiling Boba. Boba’s face was still chubby from youth, his eyes bright...like they were before Jango died. Under Jango’s right arm was a younger version of me.

I remembered it being taken. Boba had insisted, wanting an updated family photo with his new sister. Jango hadn’t officially adopted me, the scar on my cheek still red as it took its time to heal. My hair hadn’t been cropped short yet, but it was washed and pulled away from my face in a braid. My eyes, while weary, showed genuine happiness. I remembered feeling calm for once. Safe.

Just as suddenly as Boba had stilled, he screamed angrily, throwing the holoprojector to the ground, hearing a satisfying crack as the image fizzled out. The boy turned on his heel, snatching up what remained of his father’s equipment before storming out.

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

“Kida?”

I whirled, drawing my pistol and aiming it at the door, only to freeze. Obi-wan stood calmly in the doorway, hands lifted by his head to show peace. Still, he didn’t seem bothered in any way...nor concerned that I would shoot him.

I lowered my gun, holstering it silently. “Sorry,” I whispered, still holding the holoprojector in my other hand, cradling it near my chest.

He didn’t comment, only giving me a small nod as he stepped fully into the room, the door hissing closed behind him. I wondered briefly how I hadn’t heard the door open, but brushed it off, considering the visions I had were rather vivid.

“I figured I might find you here,” the jedi commented, looking around the white room.

“Oh?” I asked, turning as I lifted the tapestry from the ground, putting it on the table.

Obi-wan crossed his arms, unmoving from his place in the middle of the room. “No one had seen you since you conversed with Cody and Rex in the hangar. I decided to check here.” He finally moved, glancing around the room, his gaze gravitating to the holoprojector in my hand. “I only got to see this place for a short time. But I don’t remember that.”

“Jango deactivated it if there were ever visitors.”

“Why?”

I smiled slightly to myself as I sat at the table, popping open the side paneling of the mechanism. “He didn’t want anyone to know about me.” Obi-wan gave me raised brows, making me chuckle slightly. “I was a target. An escaped slave, in some people’s eyes. He didn’t want anyone recognizing me from Jabba’s Palace, or from Death Watch. If anyone ever showed up, he kept any evidence of my existence quiet.”

Obi-wan was quiet for a moment, his face contemplative, watching me work. “Cody came and spoke to me.”

My hands faltered, nearly ripping a crucial piece from the holoprojector. “Oh?” I said again, refusing to meet his gaze.

“Indeed. He said that you saved a clone in the barracks...using the force.” I didn’t respond, still tinkering with the mechanism. Kenobi sighed slowly through his nose. “Master Windu mentioned that you had reached out to him through the force during the business with Boba, warning him about Aurra’s involvement. Is this true?”

“Does my answer really matter? Will it change what you or the Council decides to do?”

Finally, I met his gaze, my fingers still holding the delicate pieces of the holoprojector. He was thinking, but his eyes were soft. “The Council is already aware of your growing abilities and they are wary.” I figured that. “But they have still permitted the decision to lie with me, as thus far, I have not been wrong about you.”

I sat in silence as he regarded me, by shoulders rising slowly with each breath that I took in an attempt to calm my nerves. Obi-wan stepped forward, his fingers touching the tapestry to pull it closer, letting him look at the Mandalorian sigils.

“After Cody gave me his briefing of what you did for the clone, 99,” Obi-wan started, “Rex came to talk to me.”

I jumped slightly, my eyebrows lifting. Still, I forced myself back into composure, returning my attention to the holoprojector. “And what did the captain have to add to Cody’s report?”

Obi-wan surprised me with a chuckle. “Nothing, actually. He didn’t comment on what you’d done apart from that you’d done it to save one of his men. And that he knows that you’d have done it to save any of them.” I stilled in my work, listening. “He defended you. Defended your actions, recounting the deeds you’ve done for the Republic and how you’ve never broken a contract in your history as a bounty hunter. Considering you’re employed by the Republic, he insists you won’t break that vow until we release you from it.”

“That’s...very kind of him.”

Obi-wan hummed, rubbing his beard. “Yes. The captain seems to have a bit of a soft spot for you. It’s rare, but I’ve only seen him defend his men that have truly gained his trust. You seem to have achieved that.”

I glanced away, pulling my emotions inside myself so Obi-wan couldn’t read them. “What does this matter, Obi-wan?” I was touched. Excited, even. That Rex had defended me. I’d challenged him at the hangar. I’d questioned where his loyalties lay. He’d chosen to defend me, despite possibly jeopardizing his position.

“I trust Rex,” Kenobi admitted, straightening from where he looked over the tapestry. “And I trust you. Cody worries that you may be a danger to the GAR. Do you agree?”

I was quiet for a moment, replacing the last wire to see the holoprojector spark to life. I regarded the flickering image, my heart clenching. Mind reeling. “I don’t know,” I admitted in a whisper. “I don’t want to be.”

I looked up, meeting Kenobi’s gaze worriedly. He sighed lowly. “I believe you. Though,” he added, his tone lighter. Despite that, I still tensed. “I have some concerns about your growing abilities. I can’t train you, nor can we bring you into the Jedi Order.”

I found a spark of humor, glancing at Kenobi with an incredulous look. “You think I could handle being a jedi?”

“No, I don’t,” he admitted, getting me to actually laugh. “But, off the record, I don’t want you using your abilities around the troops. The less people know, the better. Still, I can’t have your abilities lashing out in moments of desperation. You must learn to control them if you’re going to remain under my command.”

I looked up from where I gazed at the holo-image. “You’re letting me stay?”

“Of course. I ordered both Rex and Cody to practice discretion on the manner, even to superior officers other than myself.”

“I...didn’t expect that,” I admitted.

“I’m sure,” Obi-wan teased. “And you likely didn’t expect me to offer this: I will teach you in secret. Not to use your abilities, but to keep them in check. These are my terms for you to remain. Otherwise, you are welcome to leave the service, but you must leave now. If you don’t agree to these terms and stay, I must allow the Council to take any action they deem necessary.”

“Why are you protecting me?” I asked suddenly, watching his face in the faint blue glow of the holoprojector. “What’s in it for you?”

“Why must there be something in it for me?” I shrugged as Kenobi smiled at me. “You’ve spent too much time in the company of bounty hunters, Kida. I have nothing to gain apart from being right about you. Of course, the Republic will benefit from your assistance, as well.”

I hummed. He was a jedi. Sure, he cared about the Republic, but did he really think one hunter was someone who could influence a war effort? “Alright,” I whispered, looking up. “I don’t know your motives, and I doubt this do-gooder face you’re putting on,” I teased, making the jedi grin at me. “But I’ll agree to your terms.”

We were silent for a moment as we both looked at the holo-image. “I’m sorry,” Obi-wan said softly. “What the war did to you.”

Admittedly, I appreciated the gesture. But he was wrong. “The war didn’t do anything to me,” I responded. “In reality, the war got me more jobs. Times have never been better for a bounty hunter than when there’s a war.”

“I meant-”

“I know what you meant,” I cut him off. “But the war didn’t break my family. I’ve said before that Jango acted on his own accord.” I sighed lowly. “The war is horrible and it’s hurting people, I know. But I’ve been able to find friends in it again. Maybe even the start of something I could consider a family.”

“The jedi,” Obi-wan started slowly. “Don’t believe in attachments. Therefore, family is quite a different meaning for us than it is for others. But…you know more than most how jedi can struggle with this notion.”

I didn’t respond verbally, only giving him a nod. I’d known about his attachment to the duchess of Mandalore, which had yet to cease. But I also wondered if he knew about Anakin and Padme. It’d be a damned miracle if he didn’t. It felt like the worst kept secret in the Republic, yet no one seemed to actually know.

Obi-wan cleared his throat, stepping towards the door. “I know some of the men are going to eat. Anakin and I may as well. Care to join us? It’s been a long day.”

I stood, moving the holoprojector back to its place on the mantle. “No, but thank you. I’m going to go visit the medbay, I think.”

Obi-wan gave me a respectful nod before leaving. He paused in the doorway, looking back at me. “Oh, Kida. Need I advise you to not yell at the Kaminoans in the future? They are making our army, after all.”

I chuckled at him as he left without another word. There was nothing left to be said, after all. Rex had defended me. Obi-wan had given me another chance to remain in the GAR.

I’d heard that his former master, Qui-Gon, had been a rather rebellious jedi. Despite how much Kenobi denied it, he was much like the man who had taught him.

After scanning the image to my wrist gauntlet, I left the room, heading straight for the medbay.

The halls were still littered with droid parts, bustling with the clones that were still able-bodied enough to work. Some were helping clean up while others had been relieved of their work, likely heading to eat or bunk down. Obi-wan wasn’t lying when he’d said it was a long day.

The medbay had significantly lessened in numbers by the time I reached it, most of the small ailments having been treated already. Still, those who were up and had been there when I’d brought in 99 whispered to each other as I entered.

Despite no one singing, it was like the chant still echoed through the room. My eyes caught the shaved inscription of a familiar medic’s head. A good droid is a dead one. Kix saw me as I approached, smiling.

“Captain,” he greeted. “That was quite the spectacle today.”

I hummed. “I guess. Obi-wan already scolded me for yelling at Taun We.”

“I can’t imagine why.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, touching Kix’s shoulder. “It’s nice to see you, my friend. How’s 99?”

“He’s going to be fine, thanks to you. I don’t know if the Kaminoans would have allowed us to save him if you hadn’t forced it on them.”

I smiled. “Can I see him?”

“Of course. It’s late though, Kida. Are you sure? You should get some rest. You look tired. Have you eaten?”

“I’m fine, Kix,” I chuckled, moving past him towards where he’d taken 99. “Why don’t you go doctor someone else?”

The medic rolled his eyes, but gestured to me which room 99 was in so that I could find my way. He left me to my own devices, going about his work. We hadn’t spent an absurd amount of time together, but there had been enough to allow him to know when to leave me alone.

I entered the medical room, seeing 99 hooked up to monitors, an IV in his arm and bacta-patches covering his shoulder and chest. I sat beside him, pulling the chair as close as I could to the side of his bed. I’d gotten to know the man over the years, since he had swept me out of the way in time to avoid a run-in with the Kaminoans more times than I could count. Each time, he’d chide me gently and tell me some lesson, only to let me go and have to jump in again on my next mishap. Realistically, I think he enjoyed it. Interacting with someone other than soldiers. With kids that would be kids longer than a few short years.

“Kida?”

I lifted my gaze from where I stared at the sheets to see 99 cracking open his eyelids. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Y-you didn’t,” he assured. “I-I’m just thirsty.” I grabbed his cup of water immediately, offering it to his good arm. He took greedy sips before returning the cup to my hand. “Thank you. You were always a good kid.”

I chuckled. “I’m not a child anymore, 99.”

“I-I know that.” He seemed almost sad at that.

I decided to change the subject. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m not dead, so that’s always good.”

“What were you thinking?” I asked softly. “Running out into the line of fire like that?”

“I-I was just trying to do my duty,” he defended. “I’m a soldier. Like my brothers. Like you.” I touched his hand softly, quieting him.

“I know you are, 99. But you could have died.”

“My brothers die every day. Hevy died.”

I sighed lowly, sitting back to regard my old friend. “People talk like dying is a noble deed. That to die for someone is the hardest decision someone can make. But they’re wrong.” 99 looked at me with shock, but said nothing, letting me continue. “Living for someone is even harder. It’s horrible, because that person is gone. But you know that they’d want you to keep living. Keep doing what you thought is right.”

“D-do you think Hevy…” he trailed off from his question, but I knew what he was getting at.

“Hevy gave you his medal to hold onto until he came back. He couldn’t come back because he died to save both his brothers at the outpost and Kamino. Kamino includes you, 99. Hevy died to save you. Don’t go wasting that sacrifice.”

99 nodded slowly, passion taking over his face at my speech. I smiled at him, resting my cheek tiredly in my hand. “Have you eaten?” he asked suddenly, making me chuckle.

“Kix asked me the same thing.”

“A-and?”

“I’m fine, 99.”

He rolled his eyes at me, turning to grab an untouched tray of food beside him. “P-please. Eat.

“That’s your food, 99.”

He shrugged his good shoulder, giving me the tray. “The medicine is making it hard to keep anything down. I-it’d be a waste on me. Besides,” he said, gesturing to his IV. “Th-they’re keeping me alive just fine.”

I smiled gently at my friend before obliging. The food, being from Kamino, wasn’t anything extravagant. Still, I was pretty hungry after the battle and knew I needed to keep up my strength. While I dug in, I found 99 staring at me.

“I-I wanted to thank you for what you did for me today.”

“You don’t have to,” I tried to dismiss. “Taun We can suck my--”

“That’s not what I meant.” 99 sighed lowly. “I-I don’t know what you did, but I know it was you who kept me alive. I-I could feel it.” He leaned forward, wincing as I paused, food halfway to my mouth. “You have...abilities, don’t you?”

Obi-wan’s words of caution echoed in my mind. 99 was a friend...but would I be endangering him too, if I told him the truth. “99,” I sighed, “You were shot. Three times.”

“Yet I-I lived and was able to walk a-all the way to the med bay.”

“Bragging now, are we?” I was trying to convert the conversation to humor, but he wouldn’t let me. He fixed me with a look--one very much like what he would give me when he stopped me with a hand on my shoulder, a lesson on his tongue.

“I-I understand that you probably can’t talk about it. I-I...I just wanted to thank you.”

I swallowed slowly. “You’re welcome. I’m glad you’re alright.”

“Now,” 99 chuckled, letting the topic of my abilities fall. “What’s between you and Captain Rex?”

I blanched, nearly spitting out the food I’d put in my mouth. “I beg your pardon?” I said as 99 chuckled.

“I-I saw the way you looked at him. You care for all of us, but he-he’s different, isn’t he?”

“That would be breaking regulation, 99,” I chastised softly, despite my tone showing how noncommittal my words were.

“Like y-you were ever one to follow the rules.”

I chuckled at that before sobering. “Maybe I’m not, but Rex is.” 99 only hummed at me, giving the implication that he knew more than he was letting on. I was surprised, given how focused on brotherhood 99 tended to be. Rex and I...wouldn’t that cause a separation between him and his brothers? Or maybe 99 knew that I cared for the clones. A light touch to his mind proved my idea. He thought that I was a good person, having spent my time and been trained by Jango.

“It’s inevitable, y-you know,” 99 said, interrupting my probing at his mind. I mentally scolded myself for digging. It didn’t seem ethical.

“What is?”

“That a c-clone would fall for you.”

I raised my brows. “No one has fallen for--”

“I-I told you that I know my brothers, Kida.”

I fell silent, huffing. “Why would they fall for me, then?”

“You’re a warrior, like we are. Trained by Jango. But you’ve always been kind. You care about other people.”

“I appreciate that, 99, but--”

“Deny it all y-you want, but I-I know.” 99 smiled at me. “And your secret is safe with me.”

I returned the smile, bobbing my head in appreciation. “Thank you, 99. You’ve always been a good friend to me.”

99 watched me as I finished his food, the bags under my eyes only seeming to grow with each passing second. “Y-you should get some rest, Kida.”

“I don’t want to leave you alone.”

“Alone? I-I’m a clone in a cloning facility. I’m the furthest from alone a-anyone could be!” He leaned forward with a small wince, touching my hand. “Get some rest. I’m going to be fine.”

I smiled at him gently, squeezing his hand with my own before standing and moving towards the door. I stopped suddenly, a thought occurring to my mind. “99?” I asked, turning back to him. He looked tired too, and I almost felt bad for pushing him further. But I had to know. “Do you happen to know what cyare means?”

“Cyare?” 99 asked, his eyebrows shooting up before a grin cracked his face. He even surprised me with a chuckle.

“What?” I worried, wondering if it was something bad. Maybe not even bad...but what if it was something ridiculous? Or embarrassing? “What does it mean?” I pressed when he still laughed.

“Cyare,” 99 started, sobering and speaking softly. “It means beloved.”

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

MANDO’A

Hut’uun-- coward (worst possible insult)

Jorso'ran kando a tome.

Sa kyr'am nau tracyn kad, Vode an.

Kandosii sa ka'rta, Vode an.

Motir ca'tra nau tracinya. --- Mandalorian chant (Vode An) taught to clones by Jango.

Vode An Translation:

We shall bear its weight together.

Forged like the saber in the fires of death, brothers all.

One indomnible heart, brothers all.

Those who stand before us light the night sky in flame.

Akaanati’kar’oya--- The War of Life and Death (ancient Mandalorian creation tale)

Cyare-- beloved

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

AUTHOR’S NOTE

I couldn’t bring myself to kill 99. It was too horrible the first time around. Besides, his survival doesn’t necessarily tip the balance of any future arcs, so I felt safe countering the canon for this one.

In addition, I wanted 99 to be the one to tell her what cyare meant. I’m glad she finally got to find out!

Please be aware that the next arc will be completely from me, rather than from the series. The next adventure has been planned since day 1 and is necessary for the continuing of Kida’s story.

As always, likes, reposts, and reviews are welcome!

-Ryder

15 notes · View notes

thecandywrites · 5 years

Text

Isthantari- Part 3

HOLY SHIT YOU GUYS!!!!!! I was NOT expecting this story to take off or be popular. (look anything over like 2-4 notes is a massive success to me, Im not popular, I’m barely a bump on the radar so this is wild crazy success to me which I am very grateful and appreciative for because only 24 hours after posting part 2- both parts got OVER A HUNDRED NOTES OMG and REBLOGS, if you look at your guys’ notes you’ll notice I HAVE TRIED to track all you who have reblogged or commented or are now following this blog or even my main blog @yourcoolfriendwithallthecandy and I’m trying to follow you guys back and I just want to say THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! because it means so much to me, it really does, like I legit cried tears of happiness this morning when I woke up and checked my phone and went - OH MY GOD YOU GUYS LIKE IT, YOU REALLY LIKE IT!- Sally Fields moment (you like me! You really like me!)

Ok, so let me tag @catsithsitter and @royale-skeleton-key and if any of you ever want to get tagged if I continue this story passed this part three- let me know. Because you’ll notice I’ve left it open ended.

Part 3

On the fifth day, a Jika rescue team found you and Jaxon had panicked and picked you up to fly you away but you were captured nonetheless as you stared in surprise at him that he could fly and wondered how long had he been able to do that for before you were offered an apology by the Jika who found you. There had been a mix up and misunderstanding, because Jaxon’s mental message was to save his queen, they had thought that you had been the queen, thus why they shot you down at the same time they murdered the real queen. Jaxon’s brother Jye, Dr. Emily Kimble’s Jika, had thankfully explained his own relationship with Emily because he mentally had to fight not to mentally message that to the hive as well because he had wanted to react the same way but once the new queen took over and realized that you and Emily posed no threat to herself as queen because you were humans just doing your jobs, she let them live and ordered for your rescue. And since you were wearing Jika cum as sunscreen- that had actually helped a great deal, the nature of it giving off a bright signal in both the visible and ultraviolet spectrum. You were brought back on board and you gladly welcomed a long hot shower, Jaxon, never leaving your side as he scrubbed your skin clean of his cum with extreme care and finesse as you finally got to really wash and condition your hair and put on deodorant and perfume again and shave and felt more like yourself. But you did get to keep Jaxon’s cocoon and water catcher because they held significant sentimental value to you as you sent them off to be washed before they were returned clean and even combed silky smooth as Jaxon moved into your room with you and used the water catcher to make you a hammock large enough for a whole family and used the cocoon to make your bed absolutely epic and ridiculously comfortable and more than big enough for you both.

Then you were summoned by the new queen and you anxiously wore your best outfit and makeup and loads of deodorant, body spray and perfume, not wanting her to think of you as a threat by your smell otherwise. When you arrived, yourself and all the other human doctors and the surviving members of the royal brothers were gathered there.

“Hello Sable.” Queen Kat greeted you. She was obviously a very young queen and unusually small and lean and even smaller than you, barely five feet tall and if you had to guess only about a hundred pounds or so but her attennae were like horned spikes and she reminded you of maleficent because of how angular she was but had dozens of consorts attending her none the less and you recognized the look about them, like ants that had those parasites and they were completely under her control and you noticed the air around her smelled like the worst B.O. you had ever smelled in your life, it made you want to gag it was so nasty and gross but you couldn’t risk offending her.

“Your scent is unusually strong your highness.” You tried complimenting her as your eyes watered as she came up to you and looked you over, but she looked unusually fierce and it scared you but Jaxon was right behind you, your back right up against his front, using your close proximaty to try and resist her allure and control over him as Jye was doing the same to Emily.

“Thank you!” She beamed happily. “I just wanted to see the reason why I’m now the most powerful Jika queen in this quadrant now.” She grinned smugly at you.

“Excuse me?” You frowned in confusion.

“Well it was Jaxon who contacted me to come and overthrow Queen Ki, because she was so weak she couldn’t control the hive from swarming a lowly human who smelled better than she did, a very great disgrace among Jika you see. For a Queen to have a scent weaker than a lesser species such as a human is a sign of great weakness and taking over was extremely easy and I apologize if you were caught in the crossfire, I understand since Jaxon is weak too for thinking you, of all specimens in the universe- is his queen.” She giggled menacingly. “Jika culture dictates I should kill him for inferiority. But it’s him that has handed this over to me so I will show lenience and let him live. But beware, if you ever attract any others,you and they will be put to death. Having more than one queen will spell chaos and I refuse to put up with it in my own realm.” She warned and you had never felt so gutted in your life.

“So...I’m the reason his family is dead?” You asked as tears blurred your vision and your whole body wanted to tremble and shake.

“Yes, but again, she was incredibly weak, I’m sure any other human woman brought on board would have had the same affect and the same outcome so don’t take it personally. Jaxon should be commended for remaining loyal to the species and doing what’s best for the hive. Now I understand you are working to improve Jika foods and making them more palatable to humans as well as to the other species and I wanted to tell you I fully support your work and you will have whatever funds you need to realize that goal. So many earth foods are positively delightful and perfect and we owe earth and it’s inhabitants a debt of gratitude and if food is how we can do that and protecting you from other species who mean you harm so you can keep producing those foods, then that’s exactly what we’ll do.” She reassured you and you just got the sense she was just a bratty, presumptuous tween but she held the power over millions of Jika. This was the mother ship for all the Jika in your quadrant.

“Which I have a thought about that your Majesty.” Dr. Helga Wads piped up.

“Oh?” Queen Kat asked as she turned and strutted up to Dr. Wads.

“I have noticed that ruling families in the Jika are made up of a single family line but that the offspring of an outside queen with native males could be more robust and I think there is something that can be said for biological diversity, if you were to mate with males from other families, it could be promising for the future generation.” Dr. Wads explained as you and Emily both stared daggers at her, neither of you wanting to give up your mates for that endeavor but at the same time, you knew that your own personal relationship could be brought into question or exposed and much ridicule from the human side and Jika could come your way. Inter-species relationships were still seen as taboo. Even though they had been going on for the last decade or so, since aliens came into contact with humanity.

“Really? I’ve never noticed, we shall have to do “research” as you put it, and I’ll start with your Jika- Kin is it? You will isth with me- now.” She ordered as she came near him and you and Emily watched in horror, trying to conceal it from your faces as Kin became just like a drone and one of her many consorts before she mounted him in front of god and everyone and rode him a little before sucking on that gland but she buzzed angrily and within a split second had eaten his head before hopping off of him and kicking his twitching corpse aside, his cock and gonads popping off and remaining in her before she expelled them before they erupted all over the floor so that none of it actually got inside her before her own consorts gathered him up and consumed him too and you watched as they did, the spikes on their own armored exoskeleton grew in length and thickness as they ate him.

“Why did you kill him?” Dr. Wads demanded.

“His royal jelly was not to my liking and thus his seed was not worth preserving, your theory has clearly proven false, the next theory you have that proves false or that questions the supreme Jika ways, you will meet the same fate your Jika just met.” She threatened as Dr. Wads gulped and her own cheeks flushed as you and Emily each gave a worried and meaningful look to each other, both of you trying to think of a way to save Jaxon and Jye from that fate.

“If you will permit me a request Isthantari.” You blurted as Emily looked at you in heartbreak, knowing there was only one way you would know that phrase because you must have learned it the way she did and the Queen looked unbelievably pleased at you referring to her as such.

“Could Jye and Jaxon be withheld from this. Since they are from the same family and same generation, you may not find them to be your liking either and they are... valuable to us and can assist us and are...vital to our work and our well being.” You pleaded, trying to sound scientific and official in your request.

“Very well, I suppose you may also use the others as well since I don’t think they will fare much better. I suppose I should have considered that if such a queen were weak, her batch would be too.” She spat in disgust as you felt everyone else in the room collectively exhale in relief before you were all dismissed.

Once in your room you went to your bathroom and furiously scrubbed the streaking makeup off your face. You were fuming, you were heartbroken, you were shocked and horrified all at once. Maybe things would have been better if you never came. A whole royal family may still be alive.

“Sable?” Jaxon called out worriedly from the other side of the bathroom door and suddenly your rage sparked and ignited in your chest.

“I don’t want to talk to traitors right now.” You snarled at the door.

“What?” Jaxon asked as he finally opened the door and you took the washrag in your hand and threw it as hard as you could and hit him in they eye with it as he recoiled from that and made a pained sound which only hurt your heart worse but you were still furious.

“You traitor!” You accused as you pointed at him as your own face twisted into an angry snarl as Jaxon bowed his head guiltily. “Just because I stink worse than your sister, you went and called another queen to execute your own fucking sister?! Do you Jika have no familial bonds at all or is it just the hive and nothing but the hive to you?!” You demanded as you shocked yourself at how speciesist you sounded.

“What are you gonna do when I get old and my stink changes huh?! Are you gonna find another younger, stinkier Isthantari and have her kill me off?! And since when could you have flown?! When were you gonna tell me you were healed?! We could have rescued ourselves instead of being captured!” You sobbed angrily.

“Look, can we, please talk. Please? Just hear me out. Queen Kat is still my sister, she’s just a younger generation, the last generation of my family. When a queen retires, she’s not completely done giving birth, she’ll usually have one queen left, a last batch of eggs, these eggs are incubated within the queen herself and she gives live birth to them and that last queen becomes a super queen, because the first few years of their lives, they get to have the queen’s undivided attention and eat the queen’s own royal jelly and the queen passes down all of her wisdom she had acquired as her consorts instruct the super queen’s super consorts, who I don’t know if you noticed have shit I wish I had, did you see their spikes on their skeleton? Anyway, very rarely will a super queen get overthrown. There’s a lot of stability and prosperity that comes with having a super queen for the hive. If Emily had let my brother contact her when they first met and he went through what I’m going through now, she would have been here then. It’s part of Jika makeup, find the best queen and serve her.” Jaxon tried to explain.

“Then what am I?” You asked.

“You are still my Isthantari, nothing will ever change that. And when you get gloriously older, you will still be my Isthantari, the human equivalent to that is marriage, till death do us part, literally. I just...I wanted and needed to protect you. A strong queen will tolerate rivals who she knows are not strong enough to pose a threat to her personally but who serve a purpose to the hive, she probably could have let Ki live to keep birthing offspring until she’s large enough and mature enough to do so on her own, a weak queen can not take the risk to differentiate that. The message I got from the hive mind, that the drones and anyone and everyone who was around you and realized you were stronger than her- that got reported to the hive mind and it was a matter of time before she dispatched her consorts to kill you and I couldn’t let that happen so I beat her to it. Humans have a saying for this, ‘the enemy of my enemy is my friend’. That’s who Queen Kat is. She is our friend. I know she may not look it or you may not feel she is, but you smelled her yourself, to yourself- you stink, but not nearly as bad as her right? And even to me she smells awful because I’m smart enough to know the difference between strong and good, because while she’s stronger- you’re still better. You still smell glorious and amazing and you always will and even if you didn’t, I’m still in love with your mind and personality, heart and soul so don’t worry about me or my loyalty to you ever coming into doubt or question. And she’s still so small, it will take her a very long time, like another year or two, maybe even three- to grow big enough to start producing eggs which means all of Ki’s children are safe and nothing bad will happen to them because Kat knows she can’t do anything detrimental to them or else she herself will personally suffer and the hive will suffer from a loss of drones and Kat is very smart. She didn’t kill Kin because she thought he was distasteful, she did it to make a point to Dr. Wads to never challenge or question Jika ways.” Jaxon explained calmly which made your own anger abate as he slowly and carefully came closer before wrapping you up in his embrace.

“So when did your wing heal?” You asked as you reached around him and flicked it with your finger.

“Hours after eating the first coconut crab, but I wanted to spend more time with you alone, away from all of this. You saw how the Kat’s consort’s spikes and exoskeleton grew when they ate Kin? Well that’s why I ate so many crabs, my wings are the strongest they’ve ever been and my exoskeleton is now stronger than anyone else’s, even Kat’s consorts, if she had tried to force me to isth with her, she would not have been able to eat me or bite my head off, I’m tougher than her mandibles ever will be.” Jaxon insisted.

“So you need to eat more crabs?” You realized.

“I don’t need to but they are delicious. I know Kat and her consorts won’t eat them out of prejudice.” Jaxon shrugged as you took a minute to think all of that over and realized he had very valid points.

“Then I have an idea on how to save your brothers at least.” You offered mischievously before you called Emily to your room to discuss your idea with her, as she herself was so excited and relieved to hear it before you both mounted an expedition to the tropics and paid locals to capture coconut crabs to buy them as you and all of Jaxon’s royal brothers helped you to go to every coastal island in the tropics to look for sizable coconut crabs before you had a private feast just for you, Jaxon, Emily, Jye and the other remaining royal brothers- you and Emily eating another huge red snapper as you watched Jye, Jaxon and the remaining royal brothers eat hundreds of crabs, their own abdomen’s swelling as you watched their own exoskeletons grow thicker and tougher and even spikes formed. You knew if the Jika as a whole were to discover crabs that they would probably wipe out the earth’s population of them, but for right now, this was a way to protect Jye and Jaxon and the rest of their siblings and would have to remain your little secret as Jye and Jaxon talked in the Jika language between each other, their clicks and buzzes of delight music to your ears.

“So, if you are comfortable talking about it, I’d love to get any and all information you could give me about your relationship with Jaxon.” Emily instigated as you two sat side by side on the beach.

“He fell in love with my stink.” You snorted a laugh.

“Well yeah, but did he try courting you?” Emily asked.

“Uh, well he flirted a lot and he gave me a perfume made from Jika flora.” You noted.

“So he did. The males from the royal batch, will make gifts for the queen so that she chooses them, the bigger and better the gift, the more she’ll favor them and mate with them for life. They will usually spend the first year of her life observing her and getting to know her to make her the perfect gift. Most queens have multiple vaginas- depending on the size of the batch- the more she’ll have, it wouldn’t surprise me if Kat has dozens of them since she’s a super queen and so if ever a male irritates her or disappoints her or isn’t living up to her expectations but she still wants them to father offspring because they’re genetically viable, she can yank their privates off and keep them in a dedicated vagina inside her abdomen and the two will fuse so that she can draw all the sperm she wants from them without having the hassle of dealing with the male and feeding him and taking care of him. Some queens have dozens of vaginas just for that and they already knew about males from other families thing, she’ll often send her own drones and consorts out to “kidnap” other males just in case their version of ‘inbreeding’ happens, which I haven’t quite figured out how many generations of the same family line have to propegate for that to happen yet.” Emily explained.

“Really?” You asked in astonishment.

“The ones she actually likes, she keeps them alive to ‘service’ her whenever she wants though.” Emily added.

“Which actually I need to ask you about that. What will happen when I reach menopause and I’m not “viable” from a biological perspective? Will Jaxon loose interest? Will he try to find another Isthantari?” You asked her.

“No.” Emily firmly shook her head no.

“When the Jika first came, I was near the end of my own cycle when Jye first met me and he thought I was God’s gift to him. And I worried about the same thing, but he stayed right with me just as I entered menopause and I’m still going through it and he’s still just as madly in love with me as ever, if anything he’s grown with me and when we go to the surface to do our grocery shopping together, he’s around everyone and he notices that some women still smell good to him but he still prefers me over them. And I ask, every single time and his answer is always the same and completely sincere. Now he does worry that I will find another Jika that I like more than him even though part of him thinks I should have at least six other Jika to attend to me but I am happy and content with just him and I’m personally not really into polyamory, not to knock it, it’s just not for me. But anyway, considering it’s only the specialists and up that have penises to begin with, because the normal green drones, don’t have penises because they are not incubated long enough to develop them, if the drones are the standard for incubating then they get to be incubated for X amount of time, while blues get one and one third, military gets one and two thirds and purples get literally double the amount incubating time while the queens and princesses get triple, the longer they incubate for, the bigger and more advanced their brains are, they actually get personalities and obviously “equipment”. Now the specialists from the blues and reds up, they have penises but the blues, are literally a third of the size of the purples, and only have one testicle, the reds are two thirds the size of a purple and have two testicles and the purples, obviously are full size and have three because they’re meant to mate with the queen, the only reason the reds and blues have a penis and testicles at all are just in case the royal family gets infected with some kind of sickness and they all die off, the military and the specialists still contain a “back up”- if you will- of the genome the hive collectively had and they can inseminate another queen to keep the genome going so it’s not all completely lost. Now there was one instance where a hive was attacked and only a handful of greens survived and no one else and when they were rescued by another hive, they got re-incubated and came out as purples to save the genome and serve the new queen and during the re-incubation process they grew their brains and their sex organs but that was a very rare, extreme case, otherwise the greens are basically asexual and have no desire to mate, they just want to work to serve their queen and I hate to paint them so flatly or so one dimensional but that’s the way it is.” Emily explained as you listened with rapt attention.

“Now what about his royal jelly?” You asked.

“Actually I wanted to ask you about that, what does it taste like to you? Because it really does change from individual to individual.” Emily returned.

“It tastes like a...you know at Red Lobster? That Bahama Mama? It tastes like that only...I guess creamier. Like mango, pineapple and banana milkshake with some peach, passion fruit and guava and actually this last time we had sex it had a heavier coconut note to it, but that’s because, obviously they love coconut crabs and besides the wild fruits, that’s all he ate.” You specified.

“Ooh, see Jye tastes more pina colada to me, heavy on the pineapple and heavy on the coconut but you’re right, heavy on the banana too but with mine I get hints of peach and apple though and when we’ve argued and we’re having makeup sex, it’ll have a margarita twist to it. Like tequila and lime notes.” Emily explained.

“Really? No way.” You marveled.

“Now there was one time, when he first discovered ripe passion fruit, his ‘nectar’ as I like to call it too, had some heavy passion fruit notes so maybe some of it has to do with his diet because he eats pineapple and coconut every single day. I can’t imagine how awesome it would be to be stranded on an island for almost a week, did you guys get to fuck like rabbits?” Emily giggled.

“The last four days we did, once we started, yeah, we..can not help ourselves to stop. It’s the best sex of my life.” You confessed as your cheeks burned.

“Yeah, that knot is something else huh?” Emily snickered as her own cheeks burned bright red too.

“Oh my god!! Yes! Like now I love some werewolf smut like any other girl but the real thing? Lord have mercy! Oh and does Jye ‘buzz’ when he’s in you? Because that is epic, it’s like a living vibrator.” You giggled.

“Oh Honey, there’s been a few times when I can attach a tube to his nectar duct and have him take me from behind, like bend me over a counter top or a desk or something and fuck me into oblivion or even up against the window, that’s great too so I can still suck it down and not make a huge mess everywhere because that stuff is outstanding and I swear I can get tipsy drunk off of it too. And when he grabs my hips with his lower hands while his upper hands can grab me by the hair or the shoulder or even my breasts? Mmm-mmm-mmm-mmm-mmm- DAMN. That’s some good shit. Like god tier epic good shit, like I want to take him behind that tree and have him fuck me over there right now.” Emily cackled as you laughed so hard you were crying.

“That’s amazing, I’ll have to try that.” You snorted as you wiped your tears away. “I was just blown away by their cum! I have makeup that I paid an arm and a leg for that doesn’t glitter and glow nearly as much as that does. And it saved me from my sunburn! Because I put it on and it has this cooling affect to my skin and like a mineral ice-ish affect. And it’s even moisturizing, like my skin felt like I put body butter on when I took it off. And it didn’t itch or anything like normal glitter can sometimes. Like part of me wants to collect it and bottle it and sell it as makeup. Granted it’s precious stuff to me and I am very possessive about it because part of me is like ‘no! that’s all mine!’.” You explained.

“Really? See I think there would be so much potential there then because that never occurred to me to use it for anything I mean you can’t really “use” human semen for anything other than it’s intended purpose. Now I want to investigate it, I really do, but I don’t know, depending on the outcomes and results- if I do and I publish my results, every blue, red and especially purple Jika would never be safe if their sperm is good for something other than inseminating a queen, now if you do get pregnant, which I really don’t think you will but just in case, you probably would have to stay to be studied, just a heads up.” Emily warned and you nodded in understanding.

“Hey Em?” Jye suddenly asked.

“Yeah Hun?” Emily returned.

“My brothers would like to find Isthantaris besides Queen Kat, could we help?” He asked as Emily grimaced and sucked in a breath through her teeth.

“Babe, I don’t know if that’s a good idea. I don’t think it’ll be tolerated. I think the only reason we’re tolerated is because we serve the hive too.” Emily tried to gently break it to him as she gestured between herself and you but perhaps you were rebellious but you were already thinking of a way that could happen, knock that bratty queen down a peg. Granted you would have to be careful because you didn’t want to start a war or anything.

“Is there any way we can get them to live off the mother ship? Put them on one of the other ships to keep them away from her watchful eye? Or even get them to live on the surface, get jobs on earth as...I don’t know correspondents or something? Or better yet, is there a way to close them off from the hive mind so that that thought won’t get reported and we won’t get murdered for thinking that once we’re back on board?” You questioned as Emily looked at you in alarm while Jaxon and his brothers looked at you excitedly.

“Yes! Our entire conversation has been outside of the hive mind.” Jaxon informed you proudly.

“Good, because while I don’t want to overthrow another Queen, I think you guys should be entitled to have a life and love outside of the hive, she’s already demonstrated how she doesn’t care for you by killing your brother Kin and didn’t even save his seed for future use, she doesn’t need anything you could ever offer her. So why not? What she don’t know won’t hurt her right?” You shrugged as you grinned mischievously.

“So you’ll help us Sable?” Jye asked excitedly.

“Yeah, I know there’s a lowkey monster dating app, get cell phones and get on it and Emily and I can screen the candidates to make sure you guys don’t get taken advantage of.” You offered sweetly as Emily narrowed her eyes at you.

“You are playing with fire, but you’re right.” Emily sighed in resignation.

Now to find others who would like to date a Jika too…

#exophilia #alien boyfriend #monster boyfriend #Isthantari part 3 #alien #wasp alien #hopefully you'll like this too #tada!#Thank you for reading

71 notes · View notes

galleywinter · 5 years

Text

A Prayer You Can Borrow

As always, thanks to @eleneripenneth for the editing and encouragement, and a thank you to @zeroredemption for running interference, encouraging me, helping me limit distractions and encouraging me to stay focused, and also for being my reader to test "readability" and "fun".

I had to make up so much Gilnean history for this one, y'all. *So. Much.* It was fun, though, and I regret nothing.

Further notes about my intentions with this chapter are both necessary and spoilery, so they're at the end this time. ____ Previously: [Chapter 1][Chapter 2][Chapter 3][Chapter 4][Chapter 5][Chapter 6] [Chapter 7][Chapter 8][Chapter 9][Chapter 10][Chapter 11][Chapter 12]

Read Chapter 13 on AO3 Read Chapter 13 on FFN

Chapter 13 ____

The soft, early light of morning filters across the massive breadth of Varian's desk, spilling over papers and gleaming on the curved belly of the steaming silver pot sitting on the tray near his elbow. State papers are organized into neat stacks on either side of the dark leather blotter, but he is ignoring them in favor of a single sheet lying on the center of his desk. For over an hour, he has stared at it, willing the words to come. Yet the page before him remains resolutely, impossibly blank.

Varian’s fingers twitch on the nib of his quill, and it bends far too easily in his grasp. He sighs, carefully laying the instrument aside until he has better control of himself. That two simple sentences could remain so stubbornly elusive makes irritation gnaw at his nerves. His abdication, he knows, remains the best thing for Stormwind - for his people. Anduin is ready to take up the mantle of kingship. Azeroth needs his expertise to help repel the Burning Legion, and he needs to give his full attention to it. All of the logic he had carefully considered during those desolate days on the Broken Shore, all of the reasons why he needs to do this, why it's truly the only course of action. Despite it all, he still can't make himself write. Two simple sentences, a handful of words...and putting them to paper seems like the most difficult thing he's done in years. Gritting his teeth, he reaches for his quill again, determined just to get the thing done. Before he's so much as dipped the nib into his ink pot, two sharp knocks sound on his chamber door. Varian feels his frown deepen. It hadn't been Anduin's distinct, light knock, and he had given the servants express instructions to leave him undisturbed until midday. As he begins to push back from the desk, the knock sounds again. Two imperious raps on the solid door. Varian's annoyance crystallizes into a hardened knot of agitation as he crosses his office with a few long strides and stalks across his receiving room. He's absolutely certain he looks thunderous. He isn't sure, in this moment, if he cares overmuch. "I was implicitly clear-" he growls as he yanks his chamber door open. "Oh, I've been told." Varian can practically feel the thunderhead of his frustration fizzle away into nothingness as he blinks down at Mia Greymane's serene face. "I-I'm sorry, Your M-Majesty," a young man wearing a very new set of Stormwind livery stammers, red-faced and wringing his hands, "but Her Majesty-" Varian is still surprised enough by the interruption that it takes him a second to place the hapless page. Winoc, he finally recalls, in training to become a herald. "I insisted on speaking with you," Mia says calmly. "The poor boy tried to stop me," she lays a hand on Winoc's thin shoulder in a gesture that is somehow both terrifyingly maternal but only vaguely reassuring, "but I persisted. Given that the matter at hand is quite urgent, I pray that you will forgive both my poor etiquette and disregard for your instructions." "Of course." A suggestion of a growl still lurks at the edge of his voice, echoing the tension curling in his chest, but he stands aside from the doorway and ushers Mia into his rooms. The queen of Gilneas dips her head as she passes him. The ghost of a smile curves her lips, but Varian suddenly realizes that her serene expression is camouflaging exhaustion and that white shows around the knuckles of her demurely clasped hands. Apprehension knots in his gut as he waves Winoc off and closes the door. "What's happened?" he asks as he turns to face her. Mia takes a moment to respond, her eyes searching his face. The silence stretches unbroken, until she finally sighs, a soft sound that seems to echo in the stillness. "It's more," she says, her voice far gentler than Varian can recall hearing it in recent years, "what I hope has not yet come to pass. I fear this will be a lengthy conversation. May we sit?" With a single hand, he gestures to the door to his office before moving to pick up one of the leather wingback chairs from his receiving room. Mia follows the indication, and her eyes widen slightly as she crosses the threshold. "I must say," she murmurs as she spies his desk, "I'm a bit surprised this isn't a library. Our third room was, back in Gilneas." "My father used it as one," Varian says as he steps behind her and places the wingback chair on the far side of his desk. "The architects probably intended it to be when they were rebuilding it. But I've found, for my own purposes, having an office where I won't be interrupted to be most beneficial." As Mia sinks daintily into the chair, Varian moves around the massive walnut desk to his own chair. "Is that coffee?" Mia says before he can sit, her eyes fixed on the still-steaming pot. "Coffee would be lovely." The edge of wistfulness in her voice strikes him as odd, until, feeling vaguely abashed, he realizes that she must have come from Darnassus. "I apologize for failing to offer it to you immediately," he says as he pours a cup. Mia waves off his indication of cream or sugar and takes the offered teacup with careful hands. "It's late in Darnassus, isn't it?" Mia takes a lengthy sip of coffee before gingerly setting the cup back into its saucer. "It is," she finally answers. Her voice is mild, but there's a shrewdness in her eyes that makes Varian wary as he finally settles into his chair. "As I said, the matter on which I wish to speak to you is most urgent. In fact, I do believe I owe our poor court mage a debt of gratitude that might be unrepayable. I woke the poor girl from a dead sleep to make a portal for me." "I haven't heard of anything that would require such urgency." Varian frowns. He had demanded solitude, but that order would have been ignored had something of such a magnitude occurred. "Is Genn well?" "Oh, quite," Mia answers before taking another sip from her cup. "And sleeping like a babe last I saw." Varian sits back in his chair and warily watches Mia drink her coffee. A part of him feels as if he's back in the Crimson Ring in the moments before the fight truly began, when first, testing blows were traded to gauge the ability of your opponent. "Do I really need the mental image of Genn in a nightdress?” Mia sets her cup and saucer on the desk without so much as the barest clink of china. "Don't worry, dear. I can assure you, he doesn't wear one." Cursing that he'd missed the set of her mouth and the spark in her eye, Varian wipes a hand down his face. "Mia, please." "Oh, all right, dear. But you do make it so easy to tease you." She eyes her empty cup meaningfully, and he obeys, standing to pluck it from the desk with one hand and reaching for the silver pot with the other. Mia waits until he's half bent over the desk before she speaks again. "In a way, I did come see you because of Genn," she says. The words are casual, careful, but the pointedness of her tone stops him cold. She says nothing further, but it might as well have been a blow struck against him. That he hadn't been prepared for it is irksome. He straightens and fills the cup again, once again handing it across the desk. Mia's skirts rustle as she leans forward to take it, and Varian catches the lightning-fast gaze she passes across his desktop. Her chin dips fractionally, and a degree of tension Varian had failed to notice bleeds from the set of her shoulders. "I'm relieved that I'm not yet too late." Agitation and confusion tangle into a pinprick of pain behind Varian's eyes. "Mia," he says, and it's an effort to not sigh her name, "what's happened?" Exasperation is palpable in the thinning of Mia's lips as she delicately wraps her hands around her cup. "Genn told me your plan. Abdication?" she says. The words, again, are careful, but her steely gaze is direct and sharp, pinning him to his seat. "I understand why you feel that to be the best course. But what if I told you there was another path?" Centuries of royal history and precedent flash through the depths of Varian's memory, dredged up from childhood lessons. "Another - " he starts, a frown already twisting his mouth. "Mia, there isn't one. I spent days coming to this decision." "I know you did, my dear, and I understand the gravity of your decision and how carefully you came to it. But there is another option." Varian winces before he can stop himself. "Mia, I'm not marr-" She cuts him off with a sharp wave of a raised hand. "This isn't about my daughter," she says firmly. She folds her hands back in her lap, and the fingers of her right hand absently creep up the edge of her left sleeve as she speaks, where Varian can just see the coppery mourning bracelet made from Liam's hair around her wrist. Her fingertips absently trace the intricate plait, but her eyes are sharp when she looks back up. "I know you want to do what is best for your people. But the destabilization following an abdication isn't what's best for Stormwind." Varian feels like she's punched him in the chest. Destabilization is the one thing that's concerned him most. The House of Nobles will surely test Anduin's rule, and while he has every faith in his son, it's still not a scenario he's looking forward to. Mia sits in her chair as if it's a throne, watching him with a shrewd expression. "And have you given any thought to what would happen upon your return? An abdication isn't something you can take back, and Light willing, we won't be at war forever. When the former king returns...what then?" Varian doesn't respond. He can't. Truthfully, that was the only part of the plan he hadn't thought through. He had spent so long at war that the idea that there might ever be a lasting peace has almost begun to feel like a frivolous, childish notion. "You don't believe you'll return." Varian's head jerks up. Mia's expression remains unchanged. Her posture is still comfortable and poised. "Don't be so shocked at my grasp of the situation," she says mildly, a small smile playing at the corner of her mouth. "I've known you since you were a boy, after all. You have ever thrown yourself at things with all your heart but perhaps...not the entirety of your good sense." Varian scowls. "You make me seem a hardheaded fool." "You are." She laughs a little, and Varian sees a little of her exhaustion lift. "But then, I'm partial to that in a king. It's needed more often than not." A wry chuckle rumbles in his chest. "Moreso in a queen." "At least in Genn Greymane's queen," Mia responds with a soft, fond smile. "But guile and history are also worthwhile, and in this case, are what I offer you today." Varian finds himself pouring a cup of coffee of his own and sits back to sip it, watching her over the gilt rim of his teacup. "Tell me." Mia's smile blooms into one of satisfation. "You're taking pains to pass the throne to Anduin properly, and to allow him to cement his power. But even that may not be enough. Your people love you, Varian, but your nobles have little allegiance to anything but your sword arm and your will. Anduin, as much as I love the child, has neither of those." "He has the will," Varian mutters. "Perhaps," Mia says, drily. "He is your son, after all. The people do love him, but not even they have the faith in him that they have in you. At what cost will you ask them to learn that faith? At what cost will he wield his will? And why pay that cost when there is another way?" Mia sips delicately, then sets the cup on the desk. "A Prince Regent will draw much less noble ire and risk much less political instability." The words are a kick in the gut. "Anduin has been a regent before, and I will not put my son through that again" "No," Mia says, leaning forward in her seat. Her face is alight, her eyes glowing with excitement. "He's never been regent for you. We might've been behind Genn's wall, but I've studied the history of the human kingdoms. Anduin was a child-king, monarch in name, but incapable of actual rule. Bolvar was his regent. "Much the same happened to you in the wake of your father's passing: Lothar was your regent. The blood elves have a Regent in Lor'themar Theron, but their situation is...unique. There has not been a proper Prince Regent among the kingdoms of Azeroth, save once. Genn's grandfather." The truth of it is evident in the conviction in Mia's voice, but it's something he's never heard of before this moment. He doesn't try to fight the frown he feels. "Genn has never spoken of such a thing." "Naturally not," Mia scoffs, waving one thin, immaculately manicured hand. "His father made it out to be a shameful thing; it's at the root of what made Archibald and Genn both so prideful and led them to reject any aid." She sighs quietly, and her fingers float briefly to the locket hanging at her sternum before she settles back into her chair and continues. "I only heard of the story myself from Genn's grandmother, Gemma. I had to pore over family archives in secret to find any corroborating evidence. Archibald had it essentially scrubbed from Gilneas's history. Short-sighted fool." She bites it out like a curse before retrieving her cup from the desk and taking a long drink. Varian moves to reach for the coffee pot, but she waves him off. "I shouldn't have too much more," she says, sounding vaguely sheepish. "Sleep is difficult at my age, and your excellent coffee will only make it worse." Rather than replacing the cup on the desk, she perches it on her knee. Her thumb travels along the giltwork on the rim, passing back and forth in a slow, measured rhythm. "Fergus," she finally continues, "Genn's great-grandfather, was mentally unwell. He was hale and fit, but he was a bit unstable, and it grew worse as he aged. It started young enough, though, and simply enough. He was no older than you are now when he began to misremember his children's names. Within the span of a few years, he had completely forgotten the names of the Perenoldes, and of your great-great-grandparents. The Menethils he remembered well enough, but it can only be assumed that's owed to the fact that he saw them every few months and that an attentive and discrete servant hovered constantly, ready to remind him. "By the time Malcolm, Genn's grandfather, was in his forties, Fergus had taken to chasing errant servants with a broadsword because he was certain they were invaders from Alterac meaning to murder him in his sleep. He was not yet seventy then. Removing him entirely from power would have been difficult, unwise, and damaging to the reputation of the Greymane royal family. No royal line wants a whisper of unsuitability to taint their throne. "A decision was reached by the Gilnean Noble Chamber and Isabel, Fergus's wife, that the best course of action was to announce simply that Fergus had fallen too ill to rule, and that Malcolm would rule in his stead until such time as his condition improved." Despite his certainty of the answer he will receive, Varian is too fascinated not to ask, "Did he ever recover?" Mia's eyes soften, and her mouth curves in a regretful smile. The barest shake of her head preempts her response. "The foremost priests and healers were summoned to Greymane Manor, and all manner of remedies were tried, but no. Despite everyone's efforts and the prayers of a nation, he never did. Malcolm ruled as Prince Regent from that day until his coronation the day of Fergus's death four years later. "Archibald adored his grandfather, though, and believed until his own final days that if Fergus had just been given enough time, he would have made a complete recovery and been the man he remembered him to be. He only ever knew that his grandfather was ill, but not that the sickness had taken his mind. He forever saw his own father as having usurped the power before it was due him." The blank page that should bear his Declaration of Abdication stares accusingly at Varian from the blotter as he mulls over Mia's tale. Since making his decision, the House of Nobles has been the one problem he has been unable to solve to his satisfaction. When he abdicates, he won't always be in Stormwind to lend his strength to Anduin's will. Who would stand for his son then? "Tell me how a Prince Regency would be lass destabilizing than an abdication. Will there not be people who would feel about Anduin as Archibald did about his own father?" The answering gleam in Mia's eyes borders on conspiratorial. "There would be fewer than you fear if you make it public, not a half-done thing behind closed palace doors," she responds. "The king returning to his rightful position is built inherently into the framework of the statute that installs a Prince Regent. No such protection exists in abdication. Indeed, abdicating is predicated on the promise that the former king won't return. "And should you not return," Mia carefully places her teacup on his desk, next to his miniature of Tiffin so that he's forced to see Tiffin's face as she pointedly continues, "the monarchy will pass as it should and Anduin will be crowned king." Varian thumbs the page again. The solution seems almost too simple, too elegant, too tailored to his own needs to be plausible. "Should you still choose to abdicate," Mia says, her voice cutting through his thoughts, "Gilneas will honor your wishes and Stormwind's new king. I just wished to be certain you were aware of all possible avenues before making such a monumental decision for the future of your people." "I thank you, Mia," Varian says as he stands. "For everything. You are one of Stormwind's - and my own - greatest allies." Mia stands as well, offering him an impish smile. "I could do no less. Wolves pack together, young man, and I am the Wolf's queen." Varian takes the hand she stretches out to him, and her fingers squeeze warmly around his palm. "Now, with your leave, I shall return home. Your excellent coffee aside, I'm both old and sorely in need of my own bed." Varian ushers her toward the door. "Then may you sleep well tonight, Queen of Wolves." Mia squeezes his hand again before letting her own fall away. "And may you serve your people with honor and common sense, Lion of Stormwind." She reaches for the handle on his door but stops suddenly, glancing back over her shoulder at him. There's a wistful curve to the set of her mouth, and her gaze seem to skate over his entire face for a moment before a small hum escapes her. "Your mother would be so proud of you," she says. "I only wish she could have seen the man you've become." That draws him up short for a moment, forcing the air from his lungs. Often, he has heard of how proud his father would be. This feels different, a dull ache that he doesn't expect. "Thank you," he says, and he chooses to ignore the roughness of his own voice around the words. Before he can even try to formulate a more cogent response, Mia's gentle hand is on his arm, reassuring and steadying. "I know you will choose well and wisely, Varian, and I shall stand behind you no matter the outcome." "Then I shall endeavor to make my choice one you can stand behind proudly." Varian pauses, then lifts her hand to his lips. "Thank you, Mia. For everything." With another quick squeeze of her fingers around his hand, Mia is gone, the door shutting firmly behind her. Varian stands for a moment, simply staring at the door. Over his shoulder, the light streaming through the windows grows brighter than it had been before Mia's arrival, sharper as the sun climbs in the sky. He basks in the warmth spreading across his back and stretches muscles stiff from sitting all morning. He could simply walk back into his office, sit at his desk, draft his Declaration, sign it, and be done with the mess. He has long prided himself on his reputation and ability as a tactician, on his dedication to a course once laid unless compelling evidence - or a new variable - necessitates a change of action, on his ability to account for the new circumstances with unparalleled speed and accuracy. Mia's suggestion somehow feels like both compelling evidence and a new variable, and to ignore it would be foolish. He has been called many things over the course of his life, but foolish has rarely - if ever - been one of them. As Varian steps back into his office, the brightness of the light streaming in through the floor-to-ceiling wall of plate glass windows is glorious. It throws the piles of parchments on his desk into stark relief, with dark blotches of shadows pooling comfortably at their edges. He settles into his chair and glances, yet again, at the blank paper before him. He reaches for Mia's empty teacup, replacing it on the tray, and he catches sight of Tiffin's beatific smile gracing him from her miniature on the corner of his desk. As he reaches for his quill, it dawns on him that last night had been the first time in as many years that he could count without her that the thought of Tiffin hadn't hurt. He still hoped she would approve of his decisions regarding their son, he still missed her, but the ache behind his ribs wasn't there. This time, when he dips his quill into the ink pot and puts it to the paper, the words flow without hesitation. ____

When I started on this path, it was immediately in the wake of Legion's release. I was still angry and bitter that they decided to kill Varian (let's be real; I'm still angry and bitter about that). When I finally got the nerve up to start writing a fix-it fic, I went with my tinfoil hat theory at the time: that Varian would abdicate and Anduin would rule.

Problems were immediately evident (including what Varian should be titled or styled in the aftermath, especially after the war with the Legion), but I knew I had time to sort that all out before it became an issue. Eleneri and I batted several suggestions back and forth, including one that she snuck into Mia's dialogue during the beta phase and that I kept because I love so much.

But that wasn't the end of the problems Varian's abdication presented moving forward. As I've continued writing this story and talking through plotting with my husband, the problem grew much larger than "What do we call him" and moved into the much more problematic realm of what to do with Varian after Legion's content was closed, and it was a problem that kept cropping up. I didn't like any of the suggestions my husband threw out, and none of them felt right. I left it and assumed I'd just have to cross that bridge when I got there.

Then, in reading an article about Queen Elizabeth, the reporter put forth the possibility of Prince Charles assuming a Prince Regency. As an American, I felt like an idiot for not having had the thought occur to me before. But now that it had, it was too perfect to pass up.

Which led to a new problem: how to introduce the idea to Varian and explaining why it hadn't occurred to him to follow that route. Allowing Mia to mother the poor man seemed like a good choice (plus it gave Mia a chance to shine, and she's criminally underutilized in canon). All of that led to this chapter.

I hope it's been a fun bit, I hope my creativity with Gilnean history can be forgiven if not enjoyed, and I promise you'll like the next chapter even more than this one.

#A Prayer You Can Borrow #Varian Wrynn #Mia Greymane #Galley writes stuff #Galley makes up Gilnean history #OTP: A World With No More Night

14 notes · View notes