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#why are the jedi so subtly stylish
singswan-springswan · 3 years
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Can we talk about how Ahsoka wears the same line of Chanel boots as her dad
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itsclydebitches · 3 years
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Hi! I was just watching good omens and I came up with some questions, but I didn't know whom to ask, so I was digging around for go analysis blogs and found you. *takes a breath* So, I was wondering if you had any thoughts on why Heaven's camera angles are the way they are. I noticed that, in heaven, the camera tends to focus on the characters' heads specifically, so they fill most of the screen. Either it's a meta reason or a reference to something (like Newt with the Office) that I'm not getting. That's the main thing, but I've also wondered why exactly Aziraphale uses the verb "fraternize" in the 19th century. It seemed an odd pivot from caring about Crowley's safety to Heaven's rules. Thanks so much!
Hello! Omg yes, let's talk Good Omens cinematography.
First, the obligatory Analysis Disclaimer: I doubt there's a specific interpretation that you're just not getting, some singular, "correct" reading of the scene(s). Two years past release, I'm positive the fandom as a whole has come up with plenty of ideas (I mostly hang on the periphery. I'm far from up to date with GO meta), but any and all of it will, by nature, be subjective. Thus, all I can offer is my own, personal interpretation.
So for me? It's about intimacy.
Not intimacy in the sense of friendship, but rather the broad idea of closeness. Confidentiality. Emotion. Knowledge. Understanding by means of literally getting into the thick of these conversations. I love the camerawork in Heaven (and elsewhere) because the camera itself acts like a person — an additional party to these interactions. And, since we're the ones watching this show via the camera, it makes it feel as if we're peeking into scenes that are otherwise private. Obviously all cinematography does this to a certain extent, the camera is always watching someone or something without acknowledging that we're doing the watching (outside of documentary-esque filmmaking), but GO uses angles and closeups to mimic another person observing these scenes, someone other than the characters involved.
The easiest example I can give here is when Michael makes their call to Ligur. Here, the camera is positioned up on the next landing of the staircase, as if we're sneaking a look down at this otherwise secret call. There's even a moment when the camera pans to the right to look at them through the gap in the railing, briefly obscuring Michael from our view.
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Here, a standard expectation of any scene — keep your character in focus — is done away with to instead mimic the movements of someone actually hiding in the stairwell, listening in on the conversation. It creates that feeling of intimacy, as if we're really there with Michael, not just watching Michael through a screen. The camerawork acts like a person overhearing an illicit conversation prior to falling back on mid/closeup shots. We're spying on them.
To give a non-Heaven example, the camera helps us connect with Aziraphale during Gabriel's jogging scene. It's hard to show through screenshots, but if you re-watch you'll see that the camera initially keeps them both in the frame with full body shots, allowing us to compare things like Gabriel's unadorned gray workout clothes with Aziraphale's more stylish outfit; one's good jogging form and the other's awkward shuffle. However, this distance also creates the sense that we're jogging with them, we're keeping pace.
That is, until Aziraphale begins to lag. Then the camera lags too, giving them both the chance to catch up, so to speak.
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Until, finally, Aziraphale has to stop completely and the camera, of course, stops with him. We're emotionally attuned to Aziraphale, not Gabriel, and the camerawork reflects that. Even more-so when we cut to a low shot of Gabriel's annoyed huff at having to stop at all, making him appear larger and more imposing. Because to Aziraphale, he is.
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This work carries over into Heaven's other scenes. The closeups are pretty much a given since, whether it's Gabriel realizing Aziraphale has been "fraternizing" with Crowley (more on that below!), or Aziraphale choosing to go back to Earth, the scenes in Heaven are incredibly important to the narrative. Closeups allow the viewer to get a good read on each character's emotional state — focusing on minute facial changes as opposed to overall body language — and that fly-on-the-wall feeling is increased as we literally get an up close and personal look at these pivotal moments.
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Compare a shot like this one of Gabriel to the line of angels ready for battle. We don't get closeups on any of their faces because their emotions aren't important. Yes, that's in part because they're background characters, not main characters, but a lack of emotion — their willingness to enter this war without question — is also the point of their presence in this scene. So they remain a semi-identical, nearly faceless mass that runs off into infinity down that hallway, not any individual whose inner life we get a peek at via a closeup.
I particularly like Aziraphale's conversation with the angel... general? Idk what to call this guy. He's just gonna be Mustache Angel. But, getting back on track, his scene has a lot of over the shoulder shots which, admittedly, are pretty common. From a practical perspective they're used to help the audience situate both characters in the scene — you're here, you're there, this is how you're spaced during this conversation — but it can also help emphasize that closeness between them. Keeping both characters in the shot connects them and though Aziraphale and Mustache Angel definitely aren't on the same page here, those shots help cue us in to the unwanted intimacy of this moment. They're both angels... even though Aziraphale no longer aligns himself with them. They're both soldiers in a war... but Aziraphale will not fight. This angel has a list of Aziraphale's secrets, including that he once had a flaming sword and lost it... but Aziraphale doesn't want to admit those circumstances to him. This angel wouldn't understand, even if he did. Intimacy here, connection and closeness, is something discomforting because Aziraphale can no longer embrace those similarities. They put him (and us) out of sorts, so when we get them both in frame, that connection creates tension, not relief.
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And many of those over the shoulder shots are given sharp angels, or the camera is placed too close to the "off screen" party. Compare a shot like Luke and Rey to Aziraphale and Mustache Angel. Here, Luke is a clean, solid line on the left side of the screen, just enough there to cue us in to where he is in relationship to Ray, In contrast, Mustache Angel's mustache is Too Close and proves rather distracting. Rey and Luke are connecting here over being Jedi with responsibilities to uphold (or at least, Luke will acknowledge that connection later lol); Mustache Angel is forcing a connection with Aziraphale that makes everyone uncomfortable.
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We are too close to him here. He feels too close to Aziraphale too. This whole conversation is upsetting and discomforting, pushing Aziraphale to finally choose which side he's on (his own with Crowley). The shots aren't meant to subtly keep the audience from getting lost and then otherwise be unobtrusive, we're supposed to be Very Aware of this angel's body and how close he's getting to the character we've come to identify with — both literally (he's leaning in) and in terms of forcing Aziraphale to finally make his choice.
When Mustache Angel marches forward and gets all up in Aziraphale's face, the camera positions itself behind Aziraphale in a way that makes it feel like we're hiding behind him, with Aziraphale taking up far more of the screen than Luke does. Like the scene with Michael or running with Gabriel, the camera often likes to mimic a "realistic" response to these events. This angry, shouty angel is getting closer, best take a step back and stay out of sight behind Aziraphale, holding his ground.
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These closeups also serve as a nice contrast to the wide and longshots we get of Heaven. It's an imposing place with skyscrapers in the distance, lots of steel, immaculate floors, and endless white. It's overwhelming and it's cold. But then we cut to those mid-shots of Gabriel and Michael, telling us that they're in control of it all.
Aziraphale? Aziraphale is not in control. Not now, anyway. When he appears in Heaven we get a longshot to show off this endless void and he's just another, tiny speck in it. If he weren't flailing around — an acting move that likewise helps sell how out of his depth he is — it's unlikely you'd even notice him. Aziraphale's clothing and hair blends in perfectly with the background. He's forgettable. Easily overlooked. Someone to underestimate. And when he moves, he has to come to the camera. We don't cut to Aziraphale to establish control like we do with Gabriel. He's left to awkwardly shuffle up to Mustache Angel until he's finally come into view.
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Yet when Aziraphale makes his decision, he aligns himself with the brightest, most colorful, most interesting thing in the room: Earth. Earth, with all its messy individuality, is the antithesis to Heaven's controlled uniformity and a bright blue orb hanging in the midst of all this white helps remind us of that. Aziraphale rejects becoming one of the identical soldiers and instead literally reaches out for the one thing in Heaven that doesn't fit in.
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When he leaves, we get an extreme closeup for the first time. Mustache Angel is pissed and as such we not only get a good look at his face in the aftermath of Aziraphale's choice, but that extreme closeup on his mouth as he's shouting too. It's like he's shouting directly at us, the viewer who is currently cheering on Aziraphale's decision. There's a war, dammit... but we don't care. Not in the way he cares, anyway.
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So there's a lot! And I could probably go on, but apparently I'm only allowed to add 10 images per post now (tumblr what the actual fuck if anyone knows a way around this please share!) and I've already had to merge a bunch of images like an animal. So let's awkwardly finish up with the duck pond scene.
...without a GIF because they apparently count as images too 🙃
Simply put, I don't think Aziraphale bringing up fraternizing is a pivot from one to the other — from caring about Crowley to caring about Heaven's rules. I mean yes, Aziraphale is lagging behind Crowley in terms of rebellion and a part of him is, at this point, absolutely concerned with how he'll come across to the higherups, but that worry doesn't stem solely from a (now very shaky) desire to obey for the sake of obeying. The thing is, Aziraphale's disobedience is, by default, also Crowley's disobedience. If they're friends and they're ever found out, they'll both get in trouble. Which, we know from the end of Season One, basically means being wiped from existence. That's horrifying! And it's a horror that threatens them both. I don't think Aziraphale cares about rules for the sake of rules; after all, he started off by giving away his sword, lying to God, is currently meeting with Crowley anyway... this angel has always ignored/bent the rules — established and implied — that don't suit him. Rather, he cares about the rules if he thinks they have a chance of being enforced. If there will be consequences for breaking and bending them. This is still about caring for Crowley (as well as saving his own, angelic skin). If they're found out, Crowley dies. And, as we the viewer learn, Heaven was indeed observing them that whole time. There was always legitimate risk attached to this relationship. Aziraphale's fear, hesitance, and at times forceful pleas to stop this stem as much from Aziraphale worrying about Crowley's safety as they do a learned instinct to obey the rules without question. He pushes to end the relationship because the relationship threatens the only thing Aziraphale cares about more than that: Crowley himself.
As for the term "fraternizing," that's a loaded one! I won't go into a whole history lesson here, but suffice to say it has military roots: to sympathize as brothers with an opponent. That is literally what Crowley and Aziraphale are doing. They are an angel and a demon, supposedly innate enemies, supposedly poised for an inevitable war... yet they've formed an incredibly strong kinship. They've both learned to love their enemy, the thing every army fears because, well, then your army won't fight (just as Aziraphale won't). However, beyond the enemy implications, "to fraternize" eventually took on a sexual meaning: to not merely love as a brother, but to lay with the enemy too, usually women from enemy countries (because, you know, heteronormativity). Nowadays, "to fraternize" often implies a sexual component. I've been rewatching The Good Wife lately and in one subplot, the State's Attorney cracks down on fraternization in his office. He doesn't mean his employees are forming bonds with assumed enemies, he means his employees are having sex on his office couch. So Aziraphale's phrasing here carries a LOT of weight. He's both reminding Crowley of their stations in the world — you are a demon, I am an angel, us meeting like this can have formal, irrevocable consequences for us both — as well as, given the fact that this is a love story, drawing attention to the depth of this relationship. They love one another, as more than just friends. Though whether Crowley's scathing "Fraternizing?" is a response to Aziraphale falling back on the technicalities of their positions, or acknowledging a love he's yet to overtly admit and commit to — or both! — is definitely up for debate.
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kyberphilosopher · 4 years
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Chapter Nine
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.✫*゚・゚。.☆.*。・゚✫*.
Hondo wasn’t wrong. I did look like I’d been straight to hell. The dark bags under my eyes, hollowed cheeks, pale dry skin, brunette hair feeling like straw… it was all very hellish. Still, I would end up looking worse.
“Land this damned ship you idiot!” Hondo called out. Within a minute, his freighter gun ship would plant itself into the sand firmly. Once this happens, the light from the inside that blinds me so doesn’t seem as harsh, and the wind has disappeared. Both my hands lower slowly, curiously.
Hondo was (still is, to my knowledge) a Weequay. Dark dreadlocks fell over his shoulders, laced with beads and bands galore. The goggles over his eyes distracted from the thorns sprouting from his jaw and chin, which I hear is a sign of age for the species. Still, the pirate dawns a long coat and belt, paired with a stylish hat. Certainly more fashionable than anything I’ve ever worn, even though the only thing I’d wear on him is the jacket.
The man spreads his arms as if we’re lifelong friends, and a charismatic smile crosses his clever face. “Don’t be a stranger, ah! Why don’t you come in, and we’ll have a chat?”
Absolutely not.
There are several reasons why I should not and do not want to get onto a ship with a random pirate. You don’t survive in the Outer Rim by being stupid.
For starters, he’s a man. I don’t like the thought of being alone with men much. There’s been very few men in my life that didn’t make me feel uncomfortable in one way or another. Jarvers and Mur were different though… somehow. I guess maybe I saw them as fathers. No. I’m too busy losing my mind to have these thoughts right now.
It’s not that I’m terrible at disguising my tensing up, it’s just that I’m so stressed and exhausted, I can’t help but let my shoulders square themselves naturally. The pirate sees it. I watch his eyes flutter into a gentle roll under his goggles.
“My friend, I am no threat to you. On this, you have my word.”
Then I watch his eyes shift down to my hips. Not to the attribute that lies in the center, but at the sides. More specifically, at the metal cylinders attached at the waist. Instinctively, I take a defensive step back.
“Are you… Jedi?” the Weequay observantly asks with wide eyes.
You have to understand… I have a lot of anger. Anger at myself, anger at the world, anger at others I feel I shouldn’t have even though it’s deserved. Anger at the Jedi, for being too busy being corrupt and ignorant to give me shelter and warmth. Because even though I’m more than happy being independent, I wish I could’ve been dependent just once. I have anger at the Empire, for oppressing and taking as they please. Ironically, I have little anger for the Sith. I understand them.
But when the pirate said ‘Jedi’, I just… I snap.
I throw both my palms out towards him. The Force fills me up like a tingling wave, starting from my toes. The second it touches my brain, it touches the tips of all ten fingers. The man shoots backwards sharply. For a quick moment, he’s flying. Then his back slams into the wall behind him, and he slinks down.
I seize the opportunity to jump onto the ramp. I climb up it in sprinting strides until I too am inside the ship, standing above Ohnaka’s slumped body. The man groans out weakly, letting me know he’s still alive. It almost sounds like a meek, but genuine, laugh.
It’s the witness that catches my eye. On the right side, another Weequay with wide eyes and a surprised stance watches me. His cracked, dry colored features shift when I meet his eyes, and his hand reaches down to pull a blaster from his sling.
I’m faster, however. This will be, and is, the witnesses fatal error.
I reach my right arm out, opening my long, nimble fingers towards him. In my fiery, passionate fury, the Weequay chokes. His ugly face scrunches up as he struggles to breathe, in a way that I think I might like. Both hands begin raking at his throat furiously, as if puncturing a hole will give him some oxygen. The blaster clambers to the metal floor.
I let my fingers tighten a little. The Weequay almost skips into the air, just off his toes as he strangles. When I grip my fingers together in a fist, he floats closer towards me. Now, I can smell his stench, see the glimmer of fear in his eyes. It’s squirming around, twisting and turning and churning as if it itself was alive. I watch it dance, mesmerized.
There was a time where I felt an immense amount of fear, and a while after. I wanted to put all the anguish I was feeling into words for nobody but myself, but nothing could satisfy it. It was like an insatiable dragon. It would claw at me day and night. Dancing around vehemently, telling me to just spit it out. I never could. But now, looking at a man who is on the verge of death by my hand, I feel I could define it perfectly.
For some reason, I let my fist clench itself finally. There’s a sickening, admirable pop that crunches through his neck muscles. His pipes crush in on themselves. I let the pirates essence slip through my fingers like sand as he slips to the floor limply.
“You… killed him…” Hondo groans. His left hand goes to rub his chest soothingly.
My eyebrows furrow momentarily as I look down at him. “I know you,” I say. “You’re Hondo Ohnaka.”
There’s a deep growl, as if he’s revving himself up to speak. “You… come in here… kill my men…”
“I’ve seen a painting of you. On Takodano.”
Hondo looks up at me. At first, his eyes are wide with disbelief and aggression, but then it fades away. Like an outer later, the moment the pirate rolls his eyes, a charismatic twinkle returns to them. “It appears I have a fan.” He pauses. I can see the intelligence in his eyes, raking me in observantly. Not sexually. “Did Kenobi put you up to this?”
I narrow my eyes. The only person I’ve ever heard of named ‘Kenobi’ was a legend on Tatooine called Old Ben. Never sought him out. Never cared to. “Who the hell is Kenobi?”
Ohnaka watches me a moment further, before finally decided to let it go. A tamed smile washes over his face, which reminds me of the desert. He rolls his head to the side. “You’re no Jedi, are you?”
I swallow once before responding. “I never claimed to be.”
There’s a sigh. “So I suppose you’ll be no business partner.”
I glance at the corpse beside him. The guilt is already sinking into my stomach, though it’s muted by the adrenaline and the rush that comes from a murder. “Why don’t you make me an offer.”
Hondo has a lot of spice. That’s what I notice first.
Crates of it, all stacked together and close by among the rooms. It’s mostly about the main area, by booths and tables and holograms. There’s a shift in the air, full of dust and a kind of golden glow. There are a few other men about, all Weequay with bandanas and slings on them. A few stare at me, but Hondo waves them all away.
I slide into a leather booth easily. My eyes glance around, looking for the exits if necessary. I can break open the cockpit if I really have to. Escape into the ventilation system. Take out my lightsabers and just start hacking it all up. But then I would have no way off this planet, which is what I really want.
I could steal the ship. It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to say that I killed Hondo Ohnaka, the pirate who roamed the galaxy. I’d get a lot of credit for it- maybe there’s even a bounty on his head. Then I would also be set with all the spice I could ever fathom. It would be, in theory, the perfect situation.
You know, aside from the lack of destination. Maker… I feel so jittery.
“So,” Hondo begins. He saunters up to the table I sit in, his orbs glimmering with the intelligence that all criminals  possess. “A force user, all the way out here.”
My eyes narrow subtly, without me even making them. It would be funny if it happened on command now, if not for the situations that call for it. Under the table, my hands ball into fists against the dry fabric on my legs.
“I can see you’re an intelligent person,” the pirate continues. His accent makes his voice seem to draw out. “So what would you bring you to a planet such as this one? Are you… running from something?”
I take my hands from my lap, and bend my elbows against the table. My arms fold, my back hunching forward as my fingers tap against the wrapping on my limbs. Once my braid falls over my right shoulder, I look relaxed.
“Does it matter?” I counter. “What does it matter what I am, so long as I get the job done?”
Hondo rolls his eyes dramatically, moving his hands around to accentuate his words. “Ah, a means to an end type. Finally! Of course it matters what you are.” Hondo pauses, then leers closer with a hint of a smile, which seems to be permanently attached to his features. “Afterall, what we are, always reflects who we are.”
His words bother me. It’s such an… insightful and personal thing to say, and the way Hondo says it makes me feel like his eyes are piercing into my soul. Like he can see the guilt I feel inside, the contempt I have for things that are good. But I don’t let him see this. For one, my emotions tend to brew around inside of me slowly, and when I try to communicate them, they become solids that refuse to leave me, and I don’t trust anyone with being as honest as I could be. On the second hand, I don’t think it to be wise to show an outburst of emotions in front of an infamous pirate.
“That’s one way of putting it,” I answer.
Hondo nods once. “So it is.”
I try not to let my eyes flutter to the side of the ship, to the large crates of spice. Maker, it’s been so long since I’ve had spice. I’m not addicted by any means, but the rush it gives me would be welcome right about now.
“The job should not be difficult for a force user such as yourself, eh?” Hondo continues. “We’ll just be stealing some certain trinkets from the Imperial bases.”
I look down at the table, letting out a dry exhale through my nose.
Don’t get me wrong, I love pissing people off. Especially big and important people, who run big and important things. Companies, governments… Empires. But I don’t want to have to keep inconveniencing myself. I don’t want to have to keep messing with the people who are hunting me just to stay alive. I hate to say it, but I think I need to stabilize myself before I think of going out of my way. At this point in my life, the only thing I know for sure is that looking out for number one is the most important thing.
The answer is solidifying in the depths of my chest as Hondo looks at me proudly, ready to continue explaining his plan. He does so momentarily, though truthfully I’m not listening. I can only see his lips move up and down, back and forth as I think about the Clone with the yellow stripe. The way he loomed over me as my head broke the surface of the water. The way I could feel his malice at me from so far away. He’s the one who gave me the long scar on my left arm, right by my elbow.
“… I mean, we’d need Imperial documentation of it, but we can figure that out, eh? We’ve already got everything good to go-”
“I can’t go with you,” I interrupt suddenly.
Hondo’s face pulls into a frown. I look into his eyes as I continue, allowing the slightest bit of honesty to creep out of my throat.
“I’m not with the Empire,” I begin. “But I can’t be against them. Not yet.”
“Are they what you’re running from?” Hondo questions further, crossing his arms.
I shrug my shoulders slightly. “Something like that.”
Hondo sighs. “Well… I suppose I can understand…”
“There’s some men down the way who might help you. Maybe a click from the way you found me. Stationed out in an old Republic walker.”
“Could be worth a try.”
Another idea pops into my head. Perking up, I push my left hand into the pocket and feel around the depths. After a second of shuffling, I grasp the object and reveal it- Garreth’s little black book.
“What do you have there?” Hondo asks curiously.
“This,” I say, flipping the cover open, “could be of use to you.”
The first few pages are all in Galactic Basic. A few rantings that mean nothing to me, until a few pages in. Imperial information begins to flood the paper- names of ships, maps, orders, codes, plans. All within the pages of a dead man’s book.
“It’s filled with Imperial documentations,” I say.
Hondo’s stance changes from relaxed, to almost overly interested. He takes a step forward, eyes widening. “Where did you get that?”
“It doesn’t matter,” I say quickly. My eyes skim the pages, absorbing the fortune in my palms. Garreth, on top of being a vigilant soldier, was also a bit of an artist. There are multiple sketches of a Twi’Lek women laced into his words. She’s sultry, but somewhat sad at the same time.
These next few pieces of information are important. You might want to remember them.
One page in particular catches my eye. Set up in bullet points along the page, is a list of ships. Next to the names of the ships is their stationed coordinates, functions, and purpose.
They all seem to be Star Destroyers, valued at over a hundred million credits. I take in all the command ships, raking in the information begging me to absorb it.
The Executor has fluctuating coordinates, according the Garreth. It’s overseen by someone referred to as ‘General V’. Star’s Ally tends to hang around Scarif, but that could be changing soon. Punisher is supposed to possess the second highest amount of guns out of the entire Imperial fleet. The Maker’s Thrall is rumored to have access to controlling several bases throughout the galaxy, and stays outside a little planet called Mustafar.
“Have you heard of someone called ‘General V’?” I question aloud. “His name is written all over this thing.”
“I’ve heard only rumors, but nothing more,” Hondo sighs. “When the Empire came, my own was crushed.”
I nod in understanding. “You said you needed documentation. What of?”
Hondo remains quiet. I glace between his eyes, feeling the tension build.
He’s thinking of all the ways to kill me. To shoot me with a blaster, to pry the book from my fingers. He will use it, maybe sell it for the profit he sees fit. Then he will take my sabers and sell those too. Dealing with my body won’t be difficult- simply throw it out the hatch and let me float into nothingness.
I’m thinking of all the ways to kill him too, then. Jump from my seat and decapitate him with a blade before he can make a move. His little horde of weak minded men will be easier to take care of after. Then I can take this ship and the spice, use the book to find a planet the Empire hasn’t yet touched, and live a peaceful life of hunting and not talking to people until I die of an overdose.
“Well, if you won’t help us with a mission, then you should help us in another way, right? How about a trade?” Hondo says sweetly. “That journal, for as many credits as the lady desires.”
Slowly, I push the cover of the book to a close. “I can think of a lot of credits to desire,” I tell him. “But credits are no match for information.”
Hondo breaks into a laugh, as if we were long time friends. “Oh, a smart one too! I knew there was something clever about you.”
I give a weak, fake smile in response. It lasts only a second. “Did you?”
“But of course,” Hondo continues. The tone of his voice shifts into something nearly condescending. Something overly sweet, that I can’t quite describe unless you were hearing it. It’s the tone of voice that people use when you’re both playing at a game, but you would never openly admit it. That would be breaking the rules.
“And I trust you are a… reasonable person as well.”
“You flatter me.”
“Yes well... everyone’s good at something.”
I hold Hondo’s stare for a full minute, daring him to continue. I know I can take him easily. In a way, I want him to make a move. I want to kill him. It would be so easy- so satisfying. And as I watch him die, I can relish in the knowledge that I will then possess a ship, and crates upon crates of spice. Whatever credits or further treasures he has aboard will be mine too. It’s all becoming more and more tantalizing…
“How about I make you a counteroffer,” I begin lowly. “I keep the book, and then I let you live.”
Hondo scoffs humorously. “Is that supposed to be a threat? I am a pirate! I can’t even spell threat!”
One hand leaves the book and falls to my hips. On the right side, my fingers begin to grip around the hilt of the saber, keeping it at the ready. “I’m sure.”
“What did you say your name was again?” Hondo inquires. A hand of his own comes to rest a little to close to his blaster for my liking.
I press the switch of the lightsaber. Slowly, the blue light extends from under the table. Though dangerously close to my face, it floods the area like a threat. “I never gave it to you. But I can give you something else.”
Hondo takes a step back. His eyes widen as his men jump in front of him blasters at the ready. “We can’t let you touch our Captain, missy,” one of them growls aggressively. His spit clashes with the floor through his gritted teeth.
I bite my bottom lip at this, trying not to let the laugh building escape past my mouth. My knees curl up and my feet position themselves on the seat, so I am now crouching. I keep my eyes on the group as I beckon the book come up into the air and restore itself in my jacket pocket. Safe and snug, my free hand reaches for the second saber. “But who will protect him, if you are all dead?”
“Fire!” Hondo exclaims. “Fire! Fire now!”
Bolts of heat come towards me. My other lightsaber comes to light in a green glow. I spring from the seat and towards the men. I bring my blades into an X, and then extend them out. Two of the Weequay fall to the floor, orange lines burned into their throats.
Hondo turns to run down a hallway, with three of the men following him. With two remaining to take care of me, I pick who to deal with first.
It’s the one on the right. I quickly elbow him in the face, discombobulating him. I turn around and let my saber drive through his stomach. Now facing the other one, I block a few shots with the second saber. Either he’s not very good aim, or I’m very good at blocking, because I am unhurt and full of breath. To finish him, I bring him closer to me with a quick extending of my fingers, then slash at him.
As he lay at my feet, I look down the hallway that Hondo escaped to, before starting towards it.
The Dark side of the Force is far more powerful than the Light, if you ask me. It fills you with a sense of purpose, a sense of power. A new, inviting feeling runs through you that promises it’s okay to be selfish- you deserve it. You can feel everything in the galaxy, even things that have already happened, and things that have not yet come to pass. The Dark side feels… good. When I use it, especially now, I feel like no one has touched me. I feel like pure, raw power, unscathed and unclaimable. I want more.
When you’re that enthralled with the Dark side, you’ll do anything to get more of it. The best way to obtain this, is murder. The more innocent, the more power. The more guilt it will bring you, the more kingly you will become. And the more kingly you become… the more you gain.
I find Hondo and his goons easy enough. They stumble down the way, while Ohnaka constantly screams “Where’s the pilot?! Where’s the pilot?!”
I clench my hand in a fist. One of his men shoots into the air and drops his blaster. His back presses against the ceiling as he squirms around, his arms at either side of him. With a twist of my blade, it slices against his abdomen.
The next pirate widens his eyes. Seeing he’s too close to me, he attempts to jump back. Smoothly, I bring the green saber up and across to cut the end of his blaster off. With the momentum, I kick him in the stomach with a pop and separate his head from his neck with the blue saber.
The last lackey of Hondo’s lowers his blaster. His expression startled, he begins flattening himself against the wall in an attempt to keep away from me. Hondo does the same on the opposite side.
I watch Hondo’s face for a long time. I don’t feel out of breath, nor do I feel worried. I’m focused on the dancing glimmer in his eyes, because they remind me of a panicked scarab beetle. His chest heaves. The coat swishes around in the nonexistent wind before finally stilling.
It’s funny. Hondo is supposed to be one of the most cutthroat, ambitious pirates in the galaxy. But now, with my lightsaber at his throat, he doesn’t seem so bad at all. He could’ve shot at me with his blaster but he didn’t. He’s still not. In fact, one could argue that the man is trembling at the sight of me.
So, this begs the question: is something wrong with him? Or is something wrong with me?
I lower my blades. Something feels like it’s draining out of my chest like a poisonous ooze. Part of me misses it as I feel it leave, but another part of me feels far less heavy. What was I thinking? What was I blinded by exactly? What possessed me to… no. It doesn’t matter.
And, in a lowly voice, I order, “Get out of here.”
And that’s the story of how I stole from Hondo Ohnaka, and lived. Keep in mind, this was all over a disagreement about the book that would end up ruining more lives than just my own. I guess it seems almost silly now, in the grand scheme of things.
But if you’re worried about Hondo and his ship- don’t worry. He’d get it back, though most of that spice would be long gone...
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The Best New Menswear Pieces To Buy Right Now
http://fashion-trendin.com/the-best-new-menswear-pieces-to-buy-right-now-14/
The Best New Menswear Pieces To Buy Right Now
The Cords & Co x Alpha Industries Bomber
For the man who likes his classics with an on-trend edge (and that’s all of us, right?) Stockholm brand The Cords & Co and Alpha Industries have found a way to marry the two by deploying the material of the moment, corduroy, on the iconic MA-1 Fighter Pilot Jacket.
Buy Now: £240.00
Converse 1970s Chuck Taylor All Star Canvas Sneakers
Game-changing sneakers don’t come around very often, but the Chuck Taylor All Star is one model to which the term can truly be applied. Celebrating almost half a century in the footwear hall of fame, Converse has reworked the 1970s basketball style with heavy-grade off-white canvas uppers, cushioned footbeds and vulcanised soles.
Buy Now: £60.00
Triumph & Disaster Logic Toning Lotion
Gone are the days when most blokes would only use a moisturiser if it came in a bottle shaped like a spanner. The world (and our mugs) have moved on, leading modern-day apothecary and skincare foundry Triumph & Disaster to launch a unisex toning lotion that uses a natural formula to clear and tone without stripping or dehydrating the skin.
Buy Now: £26.00
French Connection Lakra Ski Knit Jogger
Attempting to dress for the slopes can quickly send your style credentials downhill, which is why many opt for après-ski (AKA ‘just meet me in the bar after’). These super-soft, stretchy joggers from French Connection will keep your look on-piste in the lodge or on lazy weekends at home.
Buy Now: £85.00
Burton Burgundy Suede Baseball Cap
Baseball caps have long been categorised as an exclusively summer accessory, but they can also be used to add some texture to an outfit in the colder months. Take this example from high-street hero Burton, which is cut from soft-touch suedette in a seasonally-appropriate shade of burgundy.
Buy Now: £10.00
Reiss Mosten Striped Cotton Jumper
The original Breton top had 21 stripes to mark every victory Napoleon had over the British. Although Reiss’ stylish crew neck jumper features significantly more, it still nods to the naval staple and so pairs perfectly with dark chinos or jeans. Just stop short of boat shoes to avoid going overboard.
Buy Now: £80.00
New Look Black Shearling Aviator Jacket
Whether on the ground below or in the skies above, it’s hard to escape the charms of military style. Originally developed in 1917 to keep pilots warm when flying in open aircrafts, these days a leather aviator jacket is just as good for channelling ‘Rebel Without A Cockpit’ vibes.
Buy Now: £59.99
Topman Black And White Blanket Scarf
It’s just a scarf, what could go wrong? Well just ask Harry Potter (or any man who’s ever uttered the word “snood”). To avoid knotting yourself a sartorial noose, stick to neutral colours and use details like subtle flecks and fringing to stand out.
Buy Now: £18.00
Philips Star Wars Special Edition Wet & Dry Shaver
Apply some Force to your grooming routine and achieve the best shave this side of the galaxy with Philips’ new series of Star Wars-themed wet and dry shavers. Launched to mark the upcoming release of The Last Jedi, it’s the closest cut you’ll get without risking a limb with a lightsaber.
Buy Now: £249.90
Umbro Projects Block Logo Crew Sweatshirt
With the menswear world currently obsessed with anything from the 1970s onwards, Umbro’s new Projects collection, which is stuffed full of subtly updated retro pieces like this block logo crew neck sweatshirt, could be the easiest way to turn your style dial up to 11.
Buy Now: £59.99
H&M Skinny Trashed Jeans
The jeans of the last few seasons have all been about hanging together by a thread. But knee slashes aren’t the only way to destroy your denim. Case in point: This handsome pair by H&M, which, as well being picked apart, have been given the Jackson Pollock treatment with paint splatters.
Buy Now: £34.99
Sneakers ER Luxury Calf Leather Dopp Bag Kit
Ever wondered how sneakerheads keep their white kicks box fresh? Aside from checking in for a restorative stay at Sneakers ER’s trainer surgery (seriously, it’s a thing), they always have the essentials to hand, which have helpfully been compiled into this soft calf leather dopp bag.
Buy Now: £44.95
Venroy Knitted Long-Sleeved Polo
Having a few well-fitting polo shirts hanging in your wardrobe is an easy way to open up your options when getting dressed in the morning. For business-casual offices, layer a long-sleeved version like this one from Australian leisurewear label Venroy under a suit or put it to work on the weekends to dress up a pair of jeans.
Buy Now: £68.00
R.E.M. x Paul Smith Navy Canvas Tote Bag
It’s no understatement to say the world would be a much less stylish place had Sir Paul Smith pursued his dream of being a cyclist or ended up in a band like R.E.M, which the British designer has collaborated with on a capsule collection of pieces screen-printed with lyrics from the rock group’s landmark 1992 album, Automatic for the People.
Buy Now: £150.00
Nicce Fishtail Parka
The parka coat received its stamp of approval from the military long before entering civilian life, making it the idea choice for doing battle against harsh weather conditions. Nicce’s all-black example features a detachable faux fur hood for added insulation, and branded zip pulls for a flight jacket touch.
Buy Now: £100.00
Adidas Consortium x Hanon New York Runners
It’s often said there are only two seasons in Scotland: June and Winter. Taking inspiration from the moody Highland skies, Aberdeen-based retailer Hanon has teamed up with Adidas Consortium to rework the 1980s New York runner with a fade pattern applied to the woven jacquard uppers and webbed midsole.
Buy Now: £125.00
Jigsaw Garment Dye Oxford Button Down Shirt
The classic Oxford shirt is a year-round staple that should be mandatory to own by law. However, to inject some much-needed personality into winter looks, restock your stash with lesser used shades like this amber version, woven and garment dyed in Portugal for a worn, lived-in look.
Buy Now: £79.00
Fish Platinum Fish Fibre
Founded in a rundown sex shop in 1987, award-winning barbershop Fish has spent the last 30 years trimming the tresses of London’s best-dressed men. To celebrate its anniversary, the brand has added a new super-matte styling fibre to its range of in-house products, offering a firm, pliable hold without the, err, sticky ending.
Buy Now: £5.99
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