#i have been rewriting chapter 2 and part of 3 for greater impact

[phoenixfire-thewizardgoddess]

In an attempt to help the hotel, Charlie places them all in danger at the hands of a very specific threat, despite the desperate attempts of Husk, Niffty and Alastor to ward her away from calamity. What the media mogul never suspected, however, was the lengths to which her majesty would go to keep her newfound family safe after such a blunder.

Vox still manages to get his prize, in the end, and the fallout leaves one particular Overlord at the mercy of care, affection and compassion in a way that horrifies him to his core.

[rebelcourtesan]

The Price We Pay news

Undergoing a little bit of a rewrite. I felt the chapters were all over the place so I moved some chapters around. Medical Plan was moved to chapter 2. Thus old chapter 2 has been changed to chapter 3 and has undergone a bit of a rewrite. I fleshed out some scenes while getting a better grasp on writing:

The Radiant spiraling with losing her power and immortality.

Exploring the relationship between the Radiant and White Rabbit which is borderline abusive/toxic.

A sample of the new stuff.

“I really must insist you eat something,” he said in a patronizing tone.  

“Leave me be, Phillip,” she snapped.

Hearing that old, forgotten name, the name he had left behind in a smoking building reeking of blood, stoked his own anger.  He had forgotten that while he could pester her; she had a sharp tool to get under his skin.

He knew eventually he would need to take a firm hand with her, but had not expected so soon.  Well, better it was sooner rather than later, he supposed.  

Without speaking, White Rabbit crossed the room to stand close behind her.  When she craned her head to look at him, he grabbed her shoulder and spun around and seized her throat with his other hand, shoving her against the wall. He pinned her there by the throat, not squeezing, just holding her.  

It almost surprised him as much as it did her at how easy it was.  Days ago, such a feat would have been impossible. She would have thrown him across the room, teleported him into the center of the sun or the bottom of the ocean, or even caused an aneurysm in his brain. Instead, all she could do was futilely struggling, grasping at his forearm with both hands and unable to move it as his strength far outmatched hers. 

He watched her face transition from fury to confusion to terror as she realized she could not free herself from his grip, nor fight back. When she stopped struggling, her chest hitching from gasps, and her eyes large with fear, he leaned forward to whisper into her ear.

“My Radiant, remember a conversation we once had about kindness and cruelty?”  White Rabbit said, as his face drew close to hers.  “You told me you choose to be kind, because it could gain you the same results as cruelty.”  Seeing his reflection in her terrified blue eyes brought him a measure of satisfaction, as he knew it horrified her to hear her own words used against her.  “But you would become cruel, if kindness doesn’t work. That conversation left an impact on me because I share the same ideology.  Right now, I’m being kind, but that does not seem to be working with you.  Shall I try being cruel instead?”

His hand tightened around her throat, not to constrict or bruise, but to apply enough pressure to indicate he could do so. He could break her neck with just a twist of the wrist or cut off her air supply until she was asphyxiated. Once he was certain she had absorbed the lessons, he removed her hand.  She grasped her neck, both protecting it and checking it for damage, something she had never had to do for any part of her body.

“I have always been capable of cruelty as you,” White Rabbit said.  His broader frame cast a shadow over hers, his height greater than hers by more than foot.  “The only difference is before I was unable to use cruelty against you, but now I can.  I’m going to leave you to consider that for a while and when I come back, you’ll tell me if I should be cruel or kind to you.”

[strrne]

Give Me a Signal, Ch.8

Chapters: 8/?

Word count (so far): 21220

AO3  Ch.1 Ch.2  Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.6 Ch.7

Summary: When Padmé Amidala is unable to contact Coruscant while negotiating a loan on Scipio, the Senate suspects trouble, and sends Anakin Skywalker to go check on her. Of course, the resourceful senator isn’t really in any trouble – don’t flatter yourself, Rush Clovis – but there’s definitely some brewing.

(or; rewrite of the tcw S6 Clovis arc; anidala + gen)

”A little bird tells me you're planning to do something 'ill-advised'. Would this be a Geonosis, or rather a Vanqor kind of ill-advised?”

Anakin did not much enjoy being forced to guess which one of his consecutive mess-ups Obi-Wan meant by 'Geonosis', and why he seemed to think that his apprentice had at least made slightly better decisions on their plentiful misadventures on Vanqor. Should he take this as a compliment? Well, he didn't have time, and that was not the point anyway.

”I'm going back to Scipio,” Anakin answered truthfully, whirling around on the ramp to the Twilight. ”Right now.”

Obi-Wan nodded. ”So… the Scipio kind.”

”Very clever, Master,” Anakin sighed. ”Are you not going to ask why? Try to stop me… do what you do best.”

”Oh, I find that what I do best is give you advice.”

Anakin nodded slowly, drumming his fingers against the box of supplies he was holding, then gesturing with his other arm towards the ship.

”Can't you tell me on the way? The more the merrier. We can be arrest buddies again.”

Of course, the two of them had been arrest buddies plenty of times, but somehow, in the Scipio-gate, Obi-Wan's brief arrest had become a mere footnote, while Anakin's extended one had ended up the talk of the town. Curiously, Anakin no longer blamed his Master for the incident – having recently been made to face how his own boiling anger often contributed to situations escalating.

”I'll respectfully decline your kind invitation.”

Anakin narrowed his eyes at him. Obi-Wan appeared to be in a strange mood – he sounded almost jovial – as though he was, for once, feeling optimistic about something. Anakin was almost sorry he could only give him a tired look, preparing to sit through whatever wisdom the older Jedi had to provide today – and risk being found out before he could set off. But he could do this much for Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan's features suddenly grew tenser.

”I sense so much anger in you. You know what Master Yoda says about that.”

”Fear… suffering… bad feelings. Bad things,” Anakin listed wearily, with somewhat loose vocabulary. He was suddenly starting to miss going to missions with Obi-Wan, and listen to his nagging about the immediate danger they were facing, instead of Anakin's character flaws. ”First thing he ever said to me.”

”And you remember what I usually tell you?”

”Harmony… control… I know the teachings, Master.”

”And you know what I'm telling you now?”

Anakin gave him a scowl, not greatly appreciating the structure of this conversation.

”What, Master?”

Obi-Wan pressed a thoughtful hand to his beard, casting Anakin a long gaze. There was something of a softness in his eyes.

”That perhaps… what you're feeling is not just anger.”

Anakin shifted. That was something new – and it seemed to strike something of a chord with him. His shoulders relaxed, and he inclined his head with cautious curiosity.

”Perhaps it is just what you said… a bad feeling.”

Anakin studied his master.

”Kinda like the one you had?”

”Yes…”

”And did that pass, Master?”

”Yes,” Obi-Wan said slowly. ”But only after it became reality.”

Anakin looked away. If Obi-Wan meant what he thought he meant, it wasn't something he had expected his Master to have sensed. The worst part was, Obi-Wan didn't know the details – Anakin didn't know the details. He must have only sensed his murderous rage, his darkness.

”The curious thing is,” Obi-Wan went on, ”I thought I felt something bigger – of greater consequence – than merely… whatever you did to that poor man.”

Anakin swallowed, as Obi-Wan mumbled something about Clovis still being alive, at least. Obi-Wan then hurried to clarify, as though it could help Anakin feel better, ”I only sensed your regret afterward. I was on my way to see you–” he momentarily stumbled upon his words. ”I know something happened. But I was not spying on you.”

But he had been on his way to see him on that day – apparently moments before Padmé had appeared and claimed first turn. Something of a bad feeling, indeed. Anakin tried to imagine how differently things would have played out if it had been Obi-Wan running into Clovis in the hangar and Obi-Wan staring at the busted control table.

”I'm getting sidetracked,” Obi-Wan said apologetically. ”What I'm saying is, I think this is something else. I can't seem to get a grasp on it… because, I think, it does not directly involve me. While you, the Chosen One,” he said the last words with an affectionate sneer, his tone strangely cheerful again, ”can feel the full impact of whatever will soon come to pass. But due to your… immaturity, you're mistaking it for anger at this person who has done very little to you.”

Anakin opened his mouth to speak, but Obi-Wan wouldn't let him.

”Yes, we all know he has caused plenty of trouble for your wife.”

For a second, Anakin started, before remembering he had risked everything in a throwaway joke not too long ago, and now Obi-Wan was at the very least in a position to give the two of them heart attacks for the rest of eternity. And again, he had no time for this.

Anakin rubbed his forehead, confused like never before.

”Let me get this straight. I am, once again, feeling too much for Jedi standards… but for once it's also good, because you think it's some kind of premonition?”

Obi-Wan paused. He seemed to be considering just how comfortably what he had said, and what Anakin was suggesting now, fit into the Jedi principles, and Master Yoda's views on premonitions and visions. Then he got on the ramp and walked over to Anakin, to place a gentle hand on his shoulder and look him in the eye.

”Search your feelings, Anakin. And if you can… do channel them into something good. Don't settle for just anger and fear. I know you're better than that.”

Anakin stared at him.

The Jedi Master then whirled around with one final look at his apprentice, and left without waiting for a response.

-

Padmé had often been accused of being a workaholic, but this time around she had thought she’d enjoy the bit of respite that her stepping down from the negotiations would bring. Instead she found herself quite uneasy after her call with Clovis, and not even 12 hours had passed before she contacted Bail again. The call barely got through, and she nearly had to press an ear to the speaker of her holo projector to be able to make out the familiar voice.

Bail spoke first, and with some rare, thinly veiled urgency.

“Padmé, I am so glad you called. I couldn’t get through to you from here. Padmé, something very odd is going on here. It has been two days, and we have yet to be presented with the new loan agreement. There is a very shady Separatist Representative staying at the–“

“What?” Padmé echoed. “The new Separatist contract is being negotiated at the same time?”

Bail nodded, almost drowning into the gray, rasping rain of interference.

“Yes... I was willing to let that – there is something – Representative Clovis does seem troubled – I wish I knew what it –“

With that, the signal was dead, and Padmé’s resurrection attempts proved futile.

Suddenly she felt guilty – she should have gone to Scipio. She would have gotten through to Clovis, whatever he was hiding. Hiding…

Padmé bit her lip. She had had enough of hiding. It was time for the truth to come out.

Teckla came in with some tea and imported Nabooian biscuits. Her expression indicated that she had overheard the conversation.

”My Lady…”

”I know, Teckla. Something very strange is going on.” The Senator gave her a trusting look. ”I know you're always up for another adventure, Teckla, but I'm sorry, I'm going to have to ask you to stay behind instead, and cancel all my appointments for the next few days. If it's urgent, please have Representative Binks cover for me.”

”Right away, My Lady.” She gave a bow and a warm smile. ”Good luck.”

-

”Anakin!” Padmé sprinted into the hangar, looking around for her husband’s freighter. She was surprised to find Anakin on his way to meet her. “Oh, I'm so glad you're still here,” she sighed, clasping both his hands in hers.

”I was about to take flight,” Anakin explained, “but then I sensed you… like really sensed you. Your urgency…”

”To come with you,” Padmé announced. “No, scratch that, to kidnap you.”

”Kidnap me?” Anakin echoed with sudden curiosity, smirking as though he had never heard of an idea more wonderful.

”Yeah, come on,” Padmé hurried, grabbing his wrist like a proper crook should, still panting. ”To my star skiff.”

”Wait, wait, wait –”

”I don't care what kind of lousy plan you've come up with. Mine is better. And frankly,” she gestured towards whatever barely functional scraps were left of the Twilight this week, ”so is my ship.”

”You'll… smuggle me to Scipio? Why? I thought you disapproved,” Anakin reminded her, following her outside and to her skyspeeder.

”I changed my mind,” she explained. ”I'll explain it when we reach hyperspace. And smuggling is the right word, yes.”

”What do you mean?”

”Well,” Padmé said, shoving him onto the speeder and grabbing the yoke, ”have I mentioned there is an anti-thermal-scanner compartment in the back of my ship?”

”What?” Anakin uttered. ”Why haven't you?”

”Now that I think of it, you specifically told me never to introduce you to any more of my ship's special features… after – ” She turned towards him momentarily, flushing and chuckling, ”ahem, do you remem–”

”Oh, that.” He gave a laughter, his nose scrunching up with either disgust or delight. ”No, that's not what I said.”

-

In hyperspace, Anakin listened to Padmé’s recount of the situation, her concerns, Bail’s messages and Clovis’ odd behavior - without interrupting, still a little incredulous that he was actually taking this risky and nonsensical trip with Obi-Wan’s blessing and his wife for company. But once she’d finished, he found himself only vaguely worried about the bigger picture - there was only so much room in his brain for politics and finances - and left with that one name he so despised.

“So… you’ll probably cross paths with Clovis again.”

Padmé did not look happy with his response.

“Anakin, it is my intention to ‘cross paths’ with Clovis – and demand answers."

Anakin gave a vague nod.

“And I need your help,” she then added, to Anakin’s surprise. Padmé momentarily took her eyes off the display screen and focused on her words. “Something for your own little excursion. Look, I don’t know much about these things, but since you are breaking into their holo tower… would you maybe be able to… spy on any covert networks?”

Anakin gave a nod again, an enthusiastic one. If there were any covert networks to be found, he had doubt in his ability to hack into them.

“Again, I thought you disapproved.”

Padmé shook her head.  

“I’ve been a major hypocrite, Anakin. You said it yourself. I do this all the time – unauthorized missions, breaking less than useful laws in the name of justice. And since it doesn’t look like there is going to be any new contract for you to ruin–“

“Hey!”

They gave a hearty laughter in unison, and Padmé playfully struck him on the arm, rather more forcefully than needed.

A long silence followed, and the air between them tightened again. But Anakin knew it was mostly the Force radiating off him and his darkened thoughts. Darkened – but no longer dark.

”Padmé,” Anakin said in a quiet voice, ”You know what I was going to ask of you?”

”What, Anakin?”

He shifted in his seat.

”To…” He looked away. “If I… If I'm ever about to snap again, and you happen to be there, to… give me a signal. To make me stop.”

Padmé was silent. Engine sounds filled the cockpit.

“But now I understand…” he drew a deep breath, feeling like he had already forgotten whatever Obi-Wan had said to him this morning. “I can’t ask that of you. You might not be there. And a Jedi is supposed to be able to control his emotions."

Keeping her eyes on the screen, but gently stealing a glance at her husband, Padmé softly laid her hand on his shoulder, gliding it along the side of his arm.

”Let me teach you an alternative to that Jedi philosophy of 'controlling your emotions'. You see, the emotions are always going to be there. But you can control your impulses. Your actions are never an inevitability."

She smiled at him.

"Too lecture-y?"

"It's a nice change of pace from Obi-Wan."

-

This time, it was Anakin's turn to that fall asleep on the journey. Padmé was reminded of Obi-Wan’s extended nap on their first fateful adventure on the banking planet. Before she had married Anakin, she had actually been under the impression that the Jedi did not sleep. Even now - it was a strange thing to witness. Chest moving up and down on his seat, Anakin looked almost too tranquil and innocent to be a General of the Grand Army of the Republic.

Nearing the end of the hyperspace journey, Padmé’s holo projector activated. Bail appeared as a bare wavering outline to inform her that the signal was currently so unstable, he’d have to keep this brief. He had just notified the Supreme Chancellor that the new loan agreement was a complete disaster – with increased interest rates for the Republic, as well as completely unreasonable terms and conditions. Meanwhile, the Separatists were to be given a contract with decreased loan interest, and complete forgiveness for their past transgressions, and – something that Padmé could no longer make out, as the connection shut down with a scratch.

Padmé took her hand off the yoke and plunged it into the ornate composition on her head, scratching at her scalp. This was worth ruining a perfect hairstyle for.

What in the world was Rush Clovis doing?