Good Morning, Good Day, Good Evening or, if you're sleep schedule is as horrid as mine, good night! LHP here, and I'm happy to say that we just got some
BREAKING LAYTON NEWS
Man I've been hoping to say this again for quite a while now. Level-5 has announced that we will get a new presentation on the 24th of September, 9:00 PM (JST) with Professor Layton and the New World Of Steam being confirmed as one of the titles they plan to showcase.
While the presentation, titled "To The World's Children", was originally planned to be broadcasted back in April, it was later on rescheduled towards late summer. This also seems to have affected the games being shown, as it was said early on that this Level-5 Vision was only focusing on games planned to release this year. Which NWOS famously isn't.
You can watch the livestream on YouTube, and read about it yourself here.
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This is about to be a long, kind of rambly post so stick with me if you want to, but I feel like a lot of people who make posts about Anakin have not experienced what it’s like to be groomed into doing what you don’t want to.
And no, I’m not calling Sheev a pedophile. Grooming isn’t inherently sexual. I suppose you could swap the word out for manipulated if that’s what makes you more comfortable.
Anakin did not jump from a good home life to the Jedi temple. He went from being a literal slave with an unhealthy attachment to his mother out of necessity for survival into an environment where he was immediately told that he was wrong. I’m not here to debate whether the Jedi were wrong or if their rules were wrong- I am ONLY saying they were wrong for taking this child, 9 years old, and telling him that he is wrong and a coward for doing what he needed to to survive day to day not even a full week ago.
Anakin was raised as a slave. We see multiple times what it’s like for slaves, but what impacted me the most were the Clone Wars episodes where Obi-wan and Rex are sold into slavery. It’s said explicitly in the episode that the slavers we see frequently make deals with the Hutts, and that fact alone makes it very likely that Shmi and even possibly Anakin were in those camps themselves at one point. These slavers whip and abuse the people there, force them to wear shock collars and leave lasting scars on both Obi-wan and Rex when they were both only there for a couple weeks.
Shmi would have been in one of those camps for years. If Anakin had, it would have been when he was an infant.
We even learn in one episode in season 2 that it’s commonplace to perform surgery on new slaves in order to implant a tracker in them so they can never be free. Anakin was not a normal kid with a normal, happy life.
Enter Sheev, who is immediately in a position of power over him and, not only that, but has consistent access to him. Anakin probably already felt wronged by the Jedi for being told he was a coward, but wow! The senator of Naboo later Chancellor thinks he’s very brave!
Anakin spent his entire life struggling with the Jedi Code- not because he’s inherently evil or selfish like some people like to act, but because he grew up being told the exact opposite. He couldn’t leave his attachments, if he did neither of them would be protected and they would both be killed. He showed anger when told not to because that was all he had ever been shown unless by his mother.
But all the while, he had a little voice in his ear telling him that he’s not like the other Jedi, he’s special, he’s better. Sheev played on his insecurities in every single scene we see them in together. He tells him to react to his anger, to keep his attachments and to be selfish. Anakin only gets worse from there.
Anakin’s problem has never been that he is inherently selfish or inherently evil. His problem was that he had no one close to him to tell him no- and anyone who did he was told to cut off by Sheev.
The tragedy of Anakin’s story has never been that he’s uncaring or cares only about himself, it’s that he was a child (22 in ROTS! i have mutuals older than that!) who was being told what to do and how to act by a man well over three times his age and he listened.
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Okay last little idea and I'll leave you be for a bit
Xiao actually responding to the names the creator gives him. Little Friend, Pretty Bird, ect. No matter how far away you are, if you call those names, he has to stop himself from turning into a bird and flying away at that very moment. Those pet names are as much his name as any other he's kept.
-sibling anon
me when xiao
in his time with you in his adeptal form, xiao has never told you his name.
and yet, he still hears you.
if he’s in the area and the wind brings him the softest call of “you here, little friend?” he morphs in an instant, instinct taking over as he flies to your summons. he ducks through the trees, landing gracefully in your outstretched hand, meeting your wide smile with a chirp.
“there you are,” you mumble, and he ruffles his wings in an approximation of standing straighter. he is here. for you.
he’s commonly perched on your index finger, or your thumb if he’s eating from your palm. you only feed him simple almonds, yet it tastes of a delightful meal, energy coursing through his body. he’s careful not to nick your skin in his eagerness, but nobody could blame his enthusiasm if they knew what he felt.
by sitting in your hand, he is rested. by staying at your side, he is healed. he still upkeeps his duties, ever vigilant, but he’s quicker now, spurred on by something—someone—to return to. his place is at your side, and he hates keeping you waiting.
even when he has to.
xiao crossed his arms over his chest, staring off at liyue’s plains while he waited for the traveller to finish talking with… whoever. he honestly wasn’t paying attention. all he was there for was the lost adeptal artifact that the commissioner had promised he had, and then he would be on his way.
the man said something with a tilt to his tone. the traveller laughed. xiao grit his teeth.
“friend? little buddy? where are you?”
the call pulled at his soul as every other name he held, and he itched to answer.
paimon made a comment, an ooh! tossed somewhere in the middle, and xiao snapped.
“can we wrap it up? this is not a proper use of an adeptus’ time.”
the man swiftly apologized, handing over the totem, and xiao all but snatched it from his hand. a ‘farewell’ may or may not have slipped from him in time for the traveller to hear, he wasn’t sure. all he knew was that one moment he was dropping the totem off at his room at the inn, and the next he was leaping off the balcony, shifting mid-air to fly towards you.
he let out a loud cry when he spotted you, tucking in his wings to dive. you saw him and held out your hand, a motion so familiar that the actions to land were muscle memory.
he flared his wings, slowing his fall, flapping once, twice, before settling on your index finger. your thumb reached up, as it always did, and he leaned into it, repressing a coo at the feeling of it smoothing over his back.
“there you are, my pretty bird. where were you?”
a shiver rolls down his small body at your words, and he hides behind your thumb. you had many names for him—little friend, blue bird, simply blue—but pretty bird?
your pretty bird?
he’s hot in a way he can’t identify, a melting mix of emotions filling his chest. pride, admiration, adoration, even, all blurring into a messy film that covered his mind.
you turned towards your camp, keeping the hand with him perched close to you. “doesn’t matter. you’re here now, pretty bird. i missed you, you know.”
and you missed him?
xiao’s known for a while that the one on the throne wasn’t truly his god, but now he’s wondering if you were. the swell of confusing feelings was proof enough; were you anybody else, mortal or immortal, god or adepti, he’d have surely struck you down for your behavior long ago. cooing over him as if he were a mere household pet, feeding him scraps of crushed fruit, calling him such names as ‘pretty bird’- he’d have morphed back the second he was strong enough, held his blade to your throat and called you insolent and ungrateful. he’d leave you with a scar, and yet here he was, apologizing for the one he did leave in any way he could.
you carefully poured some almonds pieces in your palm, and he shifted to your thumb as you sat. were you anybody else, you would be dead. but your eyes are still open, carefully watching him, and your heart still beats blood. he can feel your pulse through his claws, sometimes, and often finds his own slowing down to match it.
you had an adeptus eating from the palm of your hand, and yet you were none the wiser. you simply propped your head in your free hand, a gentle smile on your face.
“my pretty bird,” you said quietly, and xiao’s eyes closed of their own volition.
yours.
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