#Soul Saber 2

[mugenfinder]

Characters have different lock-on ranges, but is it weird you can lock-on to someone from the very start of the match?

You can lock on to enemies you can't see and their models can disappear due to distance(?) and you'll be still be locked on.

But some characters actually do disappear at shorter distances due to an ability?

[bcneheaded]

ALSO..... random ass but if yall have p s n...... u should add me @ mistapigeon...... also quest 2?? also mistapigeon on there <3

[prahacat]

theory on the fluidity of minds and souls

The first three acts of Asajj’s life. A how-to on finding yourself. Experimental prose, 1k words | Read on ao3

How to be a Jedi

(1) Don’t listen to the old man.

(2) Child, he says, don’t cry. Here on Rattatak, we are Jedi the best we can. Here’s how to be a temple to each other: brush the red dust from your face before you go to sleep. Brush the dust from his face too. Share the dirty water without flinching, like trusting him comes natural and easy to you. Teach him what to eat, cook for him stews of insects and herbs and if he won’t eat those, tell him you’re sorry, this is all you have. This is all anyone has. Sit and guard the fire while he sleeps; trust him to guard you while you do the same. When you move up north, don’t light a fire at night so the warlords won’t spot you.

(3) Learn to be kind.

(4) When they kill him

don’t rage

don’t rage

grieve

but don’t rage, don’t let it consume you

How to be a Sith

(1) Don’t listen to the old man.

(2) All men are liars. So are the women, so is everyone, but the men are more dangerous to you, especially the older ones. Never let him know (he knows anyway). Forget. Never look back. Don’t cry when he throws lightning at you; when you’re alone again, press your fingers against your temples to relieve the headache. Make the silence your friend. Ask questions, but don’t ask too many or the wrong ones; his anger will teach you which are the wrong ones. Watch out for his anger, but learn to watch out for his sharp-edged smiles too. If he offers you food or a weapon, take it; if he gives you a name, hunt them down. If he offers you a glass of wine, sit and drink and look for the lesson: which tool is he trying to shape you into? A blade, a shadow, a shield, a smoke bomb? Be grateful for what you have because he is offering you more power than he offered anyone else, because he thinks you can take the lessons and not fail, the way so many others did.

So this is how you will live: be wary of cups you haven’t filled yourself. Hide daggers everywhere: in your boots, under the folded cloak you use as a makeshift pillow, in your dreams. Keep the holoproj next to your bedroll, make sure it’s always charged, make sure it’s never muted. Here’s a list of essential things you need to have at hand at all times: spare energy cores for your saber, medpacs and bactaspray, stimcaf and sleeptabs, protein wafers in an osmosis pack in case you can’t swallow anything. It’s better not to stare at the stars for too long when you’re traveling. Navigation is all they’re good for. Be grateful for what you have. It’s really all you need: a place for the pain to go and a place to come home to. It doesn’t matter if they’re the same place, and if one day you should catch him pressing his fingers against his temples, pretend you didn’t see. Go skewer some boys instead. There’s that Jedi again: flirt, tease, smile at him with your dewberry-colored lips and painted eyes, so he knows you want to be here, you enjoy what you are. And if you suspect or know that he too has a list of essential things, and that his list is the same as yours, the same as everyone’s these days, don’t let on.

(3) Never forget to hate yourself.

(4) Don’t fall for the blade, it’s not your friend; it will take away everything you own. It’s very simple. He won’t protect you. You can’t protect them. Always expect betrayal; always expect loss.

And when that day comes

—it will inevitably come—

remember your grief and how it was a dull, useless knife to you.

How to be a ???

How to figure out what who you are

(1) Stay alone.

(2) Boil the water before you use it for soup. Strain it and collect the pulp, the gritty dark things you don’t know how to name. Everything tastes like ashes and dust, that’s all you know. Buy some soap and scrub your hands. If you wake with a start in the middle of the night, pressure crushing your chest and your breathing quick and ragged in the quiet of your room, remember to inhale, count to four, exhale, count to four. Lie still and watch the darkness shed from the light. In the morning, roam the markets, buy something against the headache, something to hide your face, something to scrub your hands. When you walk through the streets, pull your hood low. Tell the spice dealers to leave you alone, always stop after one glass of whiskey, tell the men at the corner to fuck off. There will be days when you wake in unfamiliar places; at least try not to have two of them in a row if you can help it. Watch the sunrise. Tell no-one about your past (they know anyway; probably). Always expect betrayal, always expect loss. Forget. Never look back.

(3) Learn to be kind again.

(4) Get some credits, buy a saber; any saber you can find, as long as it’s still alive. Hold it in your hand, gently, feel the worn hilt that has passed through other hands. Were they cruel? Were they kind? Maybe. Did they protect, did they kill? Who knows. It doesn’t matter to you.

Here’s what you need to do to make this saber yours:

calibrate the focusing ring, install a strong core, toss away the parts you don’t need, polish the metal often, swing the saber daily, trust your hand again, close your eyes, listen, be patient, feel how your crystal talks to you, feel it resonate, feel it hum, learn a new language.

Yellow is a good color.

It’s going to take a long time.

[joyfullyart]

The hanged man bound by the Creed

I’m baffled how beautiful this turned out to be. This is my love letter for @ryehouses and her fanfic “a simple thing”. I poured my heart and soul into this piece and I hope you will appreciate. I was also thinking it can be a fanart for the season 3 but the series goes the different way. Not gonna lie, I was little bit sad about that. Hoewer this is exactly why fan works exist. The story is set up after the season 2 before the BoBF was released.

Now I will dive more into the details of making this painting.

The whole idea was to show Din’s struggles and emotions through his journey in this story. “The Hanged Man” is the card of sacrifice that is needed to move forward, as a representation of righting a past wrongdoing or just steadying himself before moving forward. To reevaluate and learn to live with the new Way. And that’s exactly what this story is about. Din is dar’manda, he removed his helmet, he is not mandalorian anymore, his covert shunned him. He has a saber he doesn’t want. Without the kid everything is meaningless. He has nowhere to go, so he just sinks more and more into depression. But Boba is there, steady as a mountain. He helps Din to understand himself, he sets him on his new path, the new Way he can walk.

The hammer in the corner is the covert. The shame and guilt Din feels when his alor’s and brother’s judgement falls on his head, strong as beskar.

The figure with the darksaber is Tarre Vizsla, the first Mand’alor representing Din’s future with the weapon, the heavy searing burden.

The blue flow is the Force. It is like a cloud, a mist that drifts from living creature to creature, set in motion by currents and eddies.

Lastly, there is a castle basking in the Tatooines suns, representing Boba Fett. His strong presence, Din’s safe space.

I was inspired by @penumbra_cosplay photo shoot and use them as a reference for the pose, so please check them out!

And the whole style is inspired by Alfons Mucha’s paintings.

To those who read all of this, I thank you. I was a journey! Love you and see you next time. 💜

[pawznacho]

I kinda forgot to post this hxhdjsjsj

I made Ruoye look androgynous, which was intentional. I noticed most fans that'd ever drawn them have portrayed them as a male. I actually don't mind it, but making Ruoye non-binary (or any kind of gender neutral character) seemed more logical, since

1) we are talking about a piece of silk (you can view it as anything you want, tho. I mean i literally made the other two - a saber and a sword - males. All up to how y'all see them lol)

2) [SPOILER] Ruoye is basically made out of both of Xie Lian's parents, also his mother, so i believe they'd kinda be a representation of both of their souls, male and female.

And what about E-ming and Fang Xin?

E-ming is male for obvious reasons. The eye of Hua Cheng, who is, as we can all see, just a lil gentleman. So making E-ming also a male seemed more logical to me, but maybe that's just me.

Fang Xin...I did not think much about it. I didn't have any particular reason to make him male, it just came that way, i didn't really find it important. The sword itself, the way it behaves next to Xie Lian just reminded me of an old but gold little butler, just a kind and loyal old guy :')

[feralradicalbastards]

Making more of these till I get attention *stares into your soul* /silly

That’s /hj, I really did want to make this songtive as soon as I heard the song

Edit: it took me 2 days to do this actually 💀

⟦ 🌱 ⟧ ⟣ Name(s): Butcher, Roadkill, Karni, Guts, Carcass, Scarlet, Narcissa, Saber, Sabel, Fallon, Venom, Bane, Rudy, Hydra, Virus, Ouroboros, Vapula, Vepar, Morax, Veni / Venison / Venni / Venn, Havoc, Crimson, Blade, Bloode, Wraith, Haunt, Velle / Velvet, and/or Sanguine

⟦ 🍄 ⟧ ⟣ Age: Adolescageless (“young” is fluid from older teen to young adult)

⟦ 🌻 ⟧ ⟣ Gender: Neonymgirl, Cannibalcoric, Uncannygender, ADAB, Butchervanic, Cannibslaughter, Cannibalintrusive, Gendermonster, Nonhumanthing, Fauxhuman, Invicannigod, Humanitropic, Rawmeataesic, Gluttonicoitus, Cannimata, Distortgirl, ACHAB, and ABAB

⟦ 🥞 ⟧ ⟣ Pronouns (3rd): She/her, They/them, it/its, Sh🥩/h🥩r, Sh🩸/h🩸r, Sh⨳/h⨳r, kill/killself, slau/slaughter/slaughterself, starve/starveself, murk/murder/murks/murders/murderself (or murkself), butch/butcher/butcherself, 🔪/🔪self, freak/freakself, meat/meatself, gore/goreself, mag/maggot/maggotself, tear/tearself, cut/cutself, glutton/gluttony/gluttonyself, sin/sinew/sinewself, bone/boneself, blood/bloodself, app/appetite/appetiteself, sin/sinself, addi/addict/addictself, maim/maimself, stab/stabself, rip/ripself, 🥩/🥩self, 🩸/🩸self, 🪓/🪓self, 🪦/🪦self, ⚠️/⚠️self, ‼️/‼️, and 🍖/🍖self

⟦ 🍂 ⟧ ⟣ Pronouns (2nd): you/your/yours/yourself, mur/murker/murkers/murkerself, and 🪓/🪓r/🪓rs/🪓self

⟦ 🐑 ⟧ ⟣ Pronouns (1st): I/me/my/mine/myself, canni/canne/canny/cannibine/cannibalself, 🪓/🪓/🪓y/🪓ine/🪓self, ‼️/‼️/‼️y/‼️ine/‼️self, and 🔪/🔪/🔪y/🔪ine/🔪self

⟦ 🌿 ⟧ ⟣ Orientation: Biflexible (Bi to Omnisexual) and Hypercanni

⟦ 🌷 ⟧ ⟣ Species: (Gluttony)Demon-human hybrid, demon aspects aren’t visible.

⟦ 🧺 ⟧ ⟣ Role(s) & Abilities: Prone to being a Hunter-Persecutor (May get the urge to hunt down and harm another headmate in headspace) & Malicitor. They can be a Guzzler when need be, and It is also Omniscient at which it may use to h⨳r advantage.

⟦ 🍀 ⟧ ⟣ Source(s): Butcher’s Vanity by Vane, Ricediety, and JamieP (Cw for blood, weapons, cannibalism, and similar themes in the song & music video).

⟦ 🍓 ⟧ ⟣ TransID(s): Transbutcher, Transcannibal, Transcannibalismaddict, Transpsychopath, Aempathy, Vantablakamian, Translingual Chinese, Transambidextrous, Transpara (⚰️), Bloodscentian, Xenoaura (Aura: Fear, “Wrong”, Uncanny, & Blood), Albdermanism, Transdrooling, and Permahungry

⟦ 🧸 ⟧ ⟣ CisID(s): Intrusive thoughts (around cannibalism), Low empathy, Nihilist, God Complex, Pale, Sadist (only barely sexual), Red eyes, black hair, and tattoos (sin has hidden red lines on tears skin outlining the different parts of maims body).

⟦ 🍃 ⟧ ⟣ Paraphilia(s): Cannibalism Kink (Not as bad as a para)

⟦ 🍯 ⟧ ⟣ Personality: Sh🩸 is a very careless, energetic, and clever being. Often exhibiting very observant and intelligent behavior, 🥩 enjoys analyzing behavior in humans, especially under pressure. Starve is occasionally kind and friendly towards people it deems equals, but it bit a lot of studying a person for butch to lead up to seeing someone that way.

⟦ 🌸 ⟧ ⟣ Interests: Human Anatomy, Studying & Collecting variations of weapons (commonly knives), Butcher work, Collecting random items, and Theology. It also likes scaring people in differing ways.

⟦ 🌻 ⟧ ⟣ Dislikes: Not eating for a while, the concept of “normal”, majority of humans, spring, and “mundane foods”

⟦ 🥐 ⟧ ⟣ Signoff(s): 🥩, 🍖, 🔪, 🥩🍴, 🪓, 🩸, ⚠️

⟦ 🥧 ⟧ ⟣ Other: She looks (and sounds) like h🩸r source character. It has two “faces”. The more realistic facial appearance is her real face, and the “^q^” is a mask. <- I had to include this detail, I love it XD.

Disclaimer: An headmate/alter does not need to be exactly as specified, and we do not support forcing an headmate/alter to be exactly as specified. Also, we are not responsible for anything that a headmate/alter made from this does. 

[drawsdenfiles]

Peace Talks, Battle Ground

I re-listened to the end of Peace Talks and then all of Battle Ground again. I did all of this in like, 2 days and man, any of the scenes where Harry's remembering his dad just kills me.

That was the only time he might've really felt safe and it's sweet how he's carried things from back then into his present. He talks about Star Wars all the time and I think he drinks his coffee the same way his dad might've made it for him(he'd let little Harry drink coffee on Christmas) and how Harry likes to read so much, et cetera, et cetera. It just hits so hard sometimes!

Okay, besides that heartache, MAN, is Marcone just so cool in these books! I'm so worried about him and Namshiel, I want so badly for Marcone to be this, like, secret good guy. And there's no way Harry didn't pick up that.... ugh, what do you call it. Shroud of Turin in Skin Games for nothing to happen between him and Marcone later on(yes, Harry has a piece of the real-deal shroud, go look). Ugh, I'm so rooting for this guy- I'm rooting for Marcone as much as I'm rooting for Harry.

We just really don't know anything about John Marcone- and that's not even his real name, right?? He CHANGED probably way before Harry ever meets him and I'm so sure it's for magical reason. Not to mention his past with Hendricks, which I assume is related to their shared time in the military. I'm still not really sure who it was that advised Marcone in the very, very beginning to take Harry seriously- and that he knew about the soul gaze, you know?? Who told him and did the OG Merlin actually help him build that castle??? Because of time-travel??? How much has Marcone been involved with the supernatural before we meet him--- God, I could go on and on.

I really felt bad for Molly this time around, for sure, let me add that in. Poor girl, she really has dealt with a lot and now has this insane responsibility.

OH! And another sad Harry thought with Star Wars-can you believe how important those movies are for him and that his dad had got him a toy lightsaber for Christmas?? And the fact that, chapters before that, we see Harry get actually hurt by a light saber(or, a let-there-be-light-saber, ha ha). Man, I did not appreciate the symbolism when that happened the first time around.

And the writing! I can't even... You can't be this invested in a series without the writing being as incredible as it is. Modern Epic. Second to none. Everything just came together, man. You think Marcone is scary, but here's something scarier. You think Mab is scary, but here's something scarier and it just goes on and on! And all the Mab scenes and Ethniu's descriptions, just so cool. Just wow.

[thesassypadawan]

A Scary Good Time (Padawan Anakin x RealWorldFemReader)

Summary: A little throwback to the fanfics of old! Short, sweet, and cheesy! Anakin meets you, a mysterious padawan, on his way to the party! Happy Halloween!

Warnings: Contains fluff, fluff, and more fluff!

Notes: A Old Good Time *part 2*

A New Good Time *part 3*

Halloween, that one night a year when the veil between worlds was at its thinnest. The spirits and beings of other realms can easily enter into our world. If one isn't careful enough, they might find themselves crossing paths with a wandering soul.

"Kriff, kriff, kriff!" Anakin curse to himself over and over again. He had lost track of time while practicing lightsaber drills and was now running late.

Tonight was the temple's annual Halloween party, his absolute favorite holiday. And, not wanting to miss a minute more, the padawan decided to take a small shortcut.

He had gone the way dozens of times, knew it as well as the back of his hand. However, as he ran further down the path, Ani began to feel as if he had never traveled it before.

The foliage looked different and was more dense. There had been some statues scattered along the way, but they were nowhere to be found. The same went for the little fountain he should have passed by now, it was like it had just vanished.

Stopping underneath a tree, Anakin took in his surroundings. Things had indeed change and there was also the sense that he wasn't alone.

"You sure make one handsome looking devil, Ani," a tiny voice sounded from above.

His hand immediately flew to the hilt of his saber. How had the force not alerted him of another's presence? Cautiously, he tilted his head upwards and was meet by the sight of...

You sitting on one of the lower branches, legs swinging lazily, a vision dressed in all white.

Sparks flew, Anakin was completely awestruck by you. Finding his voice, he tentatively asked. "Are you an angel?"

An impish smile crossed your face. "Sorry, I'm just a Padawan from Earth. Who also happens to be a little stuck."

Without a second thought, Ani reached for and helped you down. "Earth? Never heard of it before."

Laughing nervously, you fidgeted with his braid. "Oh, you know, it's a planet near wild space. Very old and very tiny. Not many in the galaxy realize it even exists."

A part of him said that he should have pressed for more details. That nothing about this whole conversation was normal. But the longer Anakin stood there, gazing deeply into your eyes, that things became more right. Almost like he had known you his entire life.

"Anyways, are you heading to the party?"

"Um, yeah," he replied, suddenly feeling very flustered. "Would you maybe want to go together? Like as a date or something?"

Standing on your tip-toes, you placed a small kiss on his cheek. "That sounds wonderful."

Blushing profusely, Ani shyly took your hand into his and gave a gentle tug. "Come on then, let's go have ourselves a scary good time."

"So cheesy," you giggled, happily lacing your fingers with his.

______________________________________________________________

The party did indeed prove to be a "scary good time". Filled with lots of tricks and treats.

You dance to nearly every song. Played a few of the corny games. Indulged yourselves in some delicious sweets. Shared a not age-appropriate drink or two. And, of course, stole a kiss when either of you got the chance. You were completely inseparable.

Not wanting the evening to end, it, of course, flew by entirely too fast and soon you had to...

"Do you really have to go back tonight?" Anakin asked sadly, standing beneath the tree where you met. "Can't you at lease stay until the morning?"

"I wish I could," you sighed, hand resting on his cheek. "If I don't leave now, I might not get the chance again for a long time."

He perked up. "That's fine! You can stay with my master and I in the meantime! I'm sure he wou-"

"Ani," you pressed a finger to his lips. "I'm sure Obi-Wan wouldn't mind, but it doesn't change things."

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pulled him into a sweet and tender kiss.

"Happy Halloween, my handsome devil," you whispered. "I hope to see you again before next year."

The wind picked up, making the fallen leaves swirl all around both of you. And then suddenly died off, revealing...

Anakin standing alone, a jedi holocron setting in his hands. "Happy Halloween, my beautiful angel," he muttered. "I hope so too."

[e-vay]

Hola muy buenas. Te hice un comentario hace como 2 meses, pero siendo mi segunda vez aquí en Tumblr pues tampoco soy un experto y no se si se envío (Además de que estoy hablando desde un traductor y no entiendo mucho el ingles pues procedo a XD)

Ahora yendo al grano quería saber sí alguna vez harias un Fan-art de Sonic o Sonamy relacionado con Kingdom Hearts? si es que conoces el juego claro esta porqué sinceramente lo adoro con toda mi alma al igual que Sonic y me fascinaria la verdad.

Y por último no es por sonar personal pero vi algo de que tu esposo era de Dinamarca no? lo digo porque soy gran fan de la geografía y Dinamarca es mi país nordico favorito junto con Islandia

Muchas gracias por escuchar y tenga un estupendo día!

Hello there! I thought I answered your question in one of my Bulk QAs, but I could be wrong. Sorry if I missed it!

I have not done any Sonic/Kingdom Hearts crossover art before, but I definitely need to! Kingdom Hearts is one of my favorite video game series as well. I'm not too great at designing keyblades but I'll give it a shot one of these days haha.

I don't mind personal questions! I am not sure what I must have said in the past to make it sound like my husband is from Denmark, but he is not. He is an American like me.

Hope you have a great day as well!

[Translation: Hello good Morning. I made a comment to you about 2 months ago, but this being my second time here on Tumblr, I'm not an expert either and I don't know if it was sent (Besides, I'm speaking from a translator and I don't understand English much, so I proceed to XD) Now getting to the point, I wanted to know if you would ever make a Sonic or Sonamy Fan-art related to Kingdom Hearts? If you know the game, of course, because I sincerely adore it with all my soul, just like Sonic, and I would be truly fascinated by it. And finally, not to sound personal, but I saw something that your husband was from Denmark, right? I say this because I am a big fan of geography and Denmark is my favorite Nordic country along with Iceland. Thank you very much for listening and have a great day!]

[anakinskywalkerog]

My Very Soul (Chapter 28)

Anakin Skywalker x Jedi!Reader

Link to Chapter 27

Warnings: canon inconsistencies (general warning #1: just going to say this here—I'm not planning on following clone wars plots in this at all, so just go with it haha), mentions of death/grief, implied spice (still and always rated teen!) (plus general warning #2: the chapters that are coming will be heavier/angstier as the war progresses, so...tread carefully)

*temporarily using Lorenzo gifs for the "short curls" effect*

Summary: You struggle to master a new skill, all the while being plagued by new nightmares; a sweet reunion is interrupted

Word Count: 3.6k

"This is useless," you grunted, wiping sweat from your brow and pulling your saber back into your favored defensive position.

       "Imagine where you would be," Master Yuma said in her annoyingly calm, even tone, "if you gave up each time a skill proved difficult to master." You sighed.

       "No skill has ever been this difficult," you complained, watching Master Yuma hold her green blade up in front of you. "I think we might need to admit we've finally come upon the limits of my ability."

       Master Yuma cocked her head, then clicked the button to switch off her lightsaber. The training room was now illuminated only by your saber blade, its green light still alien to you. You'd lost your lightsaber—the one you'd made yourself, as a youngling—on Geonosis. When you'd undergone the process again, you'd found yourself with a different colored blade. This had worried you; could this perhaps be indicative that your powers were changing? That perhaps you were losing some of your ability? Everyone had told you not to worry about it. You'd heard stories of Jedi who had forged different colored blades at different points in their training, you reminded yourself. And, of course, Master Yuma's saber blade was green. Surely the color didn't mean you were less powerful now; Master Yuma was one of the most powerful Jedi you knew. Still, while you swung your new blade around, something felt off. Different.

       "Maybe we should try a different approach, today," Master Yuma said, exhaling slowly. You followed her lead, switching off your lightsaber.

       "What do you mean?" you asked warily. Master Yuma gestured for you to follow her over to the meditation chamber adjacent to the training room. In here, the light was even lower, and the fabric-covered walls muted the sounds of the traffic outside. You couldn't hear the passing speeders from this room—all was quiet.

       "Sit," Master Yuma instructed, and you let the air out of your chest, trying to push out your frustration.

       "Master, it's been six months, and we haven't made any progress. Don't you think—"

       "No," Master Yuma cut you off, putting her finger to her lips to shush you. You felt your eyebrows pull down into a frown. Master Yuma had insisted, after the Battle of Geonosis, that you learn greater control of your empathic abilities before you be given the task of commanding a battalion of clones in the war. At the time, you'd agreed, wanting to pacify your Master, and thinking that it wouldn't take long for you to learn the skills necessary to make sure no dark-sider was ever again able to incapacitate you through the Force. However, though you'd put all of your effort into it, you just couldn't seem to turn your intuition off. Together, you and your Master had tried everything. Still, you couldn't help but read in Master Yuma's presence now her patience, her understanding at your frustration, and, above all, her intense worry for you. You could even feel the presences passing by outside in the Temple hallway. Though you had been working to turn off your ability to intuit what others' were thinking and feeling, it seemed like all of the work you'd done had had the opposite effect. Your powers were growing more sensitive. It was like a bunch of hushed emotions were passing around you, all the time. You had to actively work to ignore them, to focus on the moment.

       If you were being truthful with yourself, your eagerness to become a general had nothing to do with a desire to help the war effort. When you thought about the war, you felt an odd, displaced feeling in your middle. It was like taking a bite of  something that didn't taste the way it should—something was just a bit off, but nobody else seemed to notice. Of course, you wanted to do your part to help preserve the republic, but you knew your desire to get onto the battlefield had more to do with joining him in the trenches than it did with becoming a soldier.

       Anakin, now the leader of the 501st clone battalion, had been off-world more and more as the war had progressed. You longed to join him, to fight alongside him, to make sure you could protect him from harm. Above all else, you missed him terribly. When he was gone, thinking of him felt like physical pain. It felt as if the walls of the Temple, once your safe haven, were closing in on you, like you were trapped here.

       You tried to wipe the scowl from your face as you sat on the meditation ottoman facing Master Yuma's. You recognized that she had felt where your thoughts had turned, and you breathed, pushing out your anger and frustration. You knew it wasn't anything but care and protectiveness that made Master Yuma so hesitant to let you join in the war effort. You knew this, and you knew also that, as a Jedi Knight, you weren't beholden to her judgement the way you had been as a Padawan. Though you'd thought about appealing to the council, about trying to convince them it was time for you to join in the fighting, you'd decided that you couldn't betray Yuma's trust like that. Not after everything she'd done for you.

       "Okay," you said, breathing evenly now, your thoughts calmed. "What did you have in mind?" You felt the answer swirling in Master Yuma's thoughts, and you frowned.

       "It won't be pleasant," Master Yuma began, looking at you with apologetic eyes.

       "Shocker," you said, the sides of your lips pulling up in a small grin.

       "I've been wondering for some time, now," Master Yuma explained, ignoring your sarcasm, "about the proper motivation. About how to make you want to shut out the presences of those around you." You held your breath, waiting for her to continue. "If you are willing..." Master Yuma paused, watching your face.

       "I'm willing. What do you want to try?" You asked, impatience slipping into your presence once again.

       "Instead of thinking of certain things, trying to distract you in combat," Master Yuma explained, her eyes lowering, "I want to try to...enter into a meditative state, with you. I want you to see if you can find a way to keep my presence out."

       "And you want to motivate me to do so...by thinking of things..."

       "That I believe you will find unpleasant. Yes." Master Yuma's eyes softened, showing her concern.

       "Let's get on with it, then," you said, breathing out through your mouth and closing your eyes, flipping your palms to face them upward in your preferred meditation pose. You heard Master Yuma breathe out as well, and felt her discomfort and guilt. You pushed out with your feelings, trying to encourage her. Couldn't she see that your frustration wasn't with her? That your impatience had nothing to do with her training? You hadn't seen Anakin in over—

       It began quickly. You felt yourself descending into Master Yuma's presence, feeling with her into the depths of her mind, into her memories. It was all so much more real in meditation than it was when you read her passing thoughts during combat. You felt as if you were experiencing Master Yuma's memories, as if you were there, seeing with her eyes. She was meditating on you, as a small child, watching Dallum push you down in the courtyard. You'd scraped your elbow, and started to cry. Yumi stood nearby, laughing with the others. You flinched, slightly, but it wasn't a bad memory, really. Not anymore. You wondered where Dallum was now. You remembered, though, that you were supposed to be blocking out Master Yuma's presence, and you began trying to extricate your mind from hers.

       The memory shifted quickly. You felt with Master Yuma another memory, this one less familiar. It was a memory you weren't present for. Anakin and Henry were staring at each other murderously, the ground of a senate apartment littered with debris and shards of glass that were rumbling in the Force. Obi-Wan said something to calm the situation, and you watched as Anakin's face turned away, his angry façade falling into a pained expression. This tugged at your heart strings a bit more. You hated to watch him in pain.

       The memory shifted again before you could get your bearings. Here was Anakin, again, charging at Count Dooku, trying to take him alone. You gasped. You watched in terror through your closed eyelids as Anakin was quickly overtaken by Dooku, watched as the love of your life screamed in pain, watched as the lower third of his arm was cut from the rest of him. You balled your open palms into fists. Master Yuma replayed this memory, and you worked in your mind, trying to pull each of the fibers of her thoughts away from you in the Force, trying to push away Master Yuma's memories, push her entire presence out of your head. It wasn't working.

       Master Yuma's mind shifted again. You'd been here before. You stood, now, in the arena on Geonosis. You watched yourself kneeling over Eha, screaming for her, watched her dead eyes staring into nothing. You clenched your teeth with the effort, trying in vain to push Master Yuma's presence out of your mind, but you couldn't do it. It felt like each mind fiber of connection through the Force needed to be carefully disentangled—but the problem was, there were millions of fibers, and even as you used your effort to pull back two or three of them, more grew into place. You just couldn't sort through the mess enough to dispel Master Yuma's presence from your mind.

       And, truthfully, there wasn't anything Master Yuma could show you that would motivate you in the way she was suggesting. She didn’t know that you were already plagued by visions much worse than the ones she showed you.

       You hadn’t told anyone about the nightmares, the visions that came for you every night when you went to sleep. When you closed your eyes after a long day of training, you already saw unpleasant, terrible things. It started out like a fog, like some kind of cold darkness descending after you when you were alone. It felt like an echo of what Count Dooku had done to your mind, on Geonosis, and part of you worried that the Sith had infected your mind, somehow, that they'd left their mark on you. Whenever you were alone, if you closed your eyes to sleep, you saw all of it, every horrible vision Master Yuma could think of and so much worse. Anakin killing and maiming every member of that indigenous tribe on Tatooine; little Leve, unmoving in the Geonosis sand, her limbs splayed out from under her; Dallum’s screams as Eha stared into the black nothingness of death. Not Yuma, not even Anakin knew what you saw when you closed your eyes at night. You saw other things too, things that hadn’t happened. Things you hoped never would: a war torn galaxy; people fleeing from huge ships and men in white armor, men that didn't look like clones, men who were attacking people at will; a coldness seeping across the universe, into everything. You sucked in a breath.

       "It's not working," you exhaled, opening your eyes to find Yuma staring at you.

       "What was all that?" Master Yuma asked, her eyes narrowing. You felt your stomach drop. You'd forgotten to pull your presence back into yourself, in the effort of trying to wade through the tangle of Yuma's memories.

       "Nothing," you said unconvincingly, looking down at your hands.

       "That didn't look like nothing." Master Yuma's voice shook. You sat in silence for a moment, avoiding her eyes. Suddenly, the door to the meditation room opened.

       "General Ohno," the clone stated, walking through the door and nodding to you and Yuma. You broke your meditation pose, flexing your fingers, sore from being balled into tight fists.

       "Marlo," Yuma greeted the commander of her clone battalion. "What is it?"

       "You're wanted in the council chambers, General," Marlo reported, all business. "It's urgent." Master Yuma nodded, and quickly stood up.

       "We aren't finished with this," she mumbled under her breath, giving you a severe look before turning and following the clone out into the hallway. You groaned, watching her retreating form.

You walked through the halls of the Temple and back to your quarters slowly, lost in thought.

       You couldn't pinpoint the exact reason for your unease. Was it that you weren't making any progress? New skills had always come easily to you, and you could admit that the difficulty you were facing now, in trying to halt your intuitive abilities, had you feeling a little downhearted. But—no. It wasn't that.

       Was it the war? The general emotional atmopshere of the Temple and its inhabitants had changed drastically in the last six months. You knew this better than anyone, being able to sense the feelings of those around you. But that didn't seem right, either.

       Was it restlessness? This was the longest you'd gone without a mission since you were a youngling. You knew the long days of training in the Temple, and the days of studying strategy while Master Yuma was away, were starting to wear on you. But—no. You knew that wasn't it.

       The feeling inside of you now felt heavy, dark, and empty. It was like your insides could contain an echo—there was too much space. It frightened you. You were feeling lonely, you realized. You felt alone, very much alone. You couldn't share with Master Yuma all of the things that troubled you. You'd lost your best friend, you'd lost some of your other old friends, and you barely ever saw any of the friends you still had in the Temple. When Anakin was away, it felt like you were alone in the universe, the center of your own very empty galaxy.

       You sighed. There was nothing you could do, you realized, but bear this feeling the best you could. There wasn't a way out of this emptiness. You simply had to endure it.

       You pushed the panel on the wall and entered the opening door into your Jedi apartment, kicking off your boots. The apartments afforded to Jedi Knights were simple, but comfortable. The one-bedroom unit had a spacious living room with seating and a table, attached to a kitchen that contained all of the basic fares and necessary appliances. The bedroom, too, was comfortable. However, as of late you'd found the big bed too empty. Sleep had been torturous, whenever you'd been able to sleep at all.

You flicked on the lights and glanced out the window at the setting Coruscanti sun. The best part of this new apartment was by far the windows—they were much larger than those in your Padawan dormitory. You loved the natural light. You stood, for a moment, admiring the view, allowing the pangs of your empty feeling to overwhelm you, wiping a quick tear from the corner of your eye.

       It was only then that you felt the disturbance. Faster than lightspeed, you pulled your presence back into yourself, assessed your surroundings, and tensed your muscles, readying to strike with your hand on your saber. In this millisecond of preparation, you reached out with the Force, trying to sense what the danger was. But—

       "Oh," you breathed, feeling the Force presence in the air and almost collapsing as you turned, quickly, and reached out for him.

       "You're usually more difficult to sneak up on," Anakin said in a low, quiet voice, his smile illuminated by the golden sunset streaming in through the blinds.

       "Ani," you sighed contentedly, putting your arms around his neck and holding yourself close to him, allowing his presence to wash over you, bathing you in the feeling of rightness and peace.

       "I missed you, too," Anakin said, a little louder, putting his hands on either side of your face and pulling you back so he could look at you. "More than you know," he continued, leaning in and holding his face inches from yours.

       "What happened on Florrum?" you tried to ask, but Anakin was pressing his lips to yours, enthusiastically, without restraint. He lifted you up into his arms and placed you on the counter in the kitchen.

       "I'd rather discuss that later," Anakin whispered hastily, slyly sliding your knees apart with his hand and stepping between them.  

       "That sounds reasonable," you agreed breathlessly, completely amenable to his desires. You felt Anakin's shoulders move as he laughed, then felt him press his hands more firmly around the sides of your neck, kissing you with reckless abandon. You loved Anakin when he was like this—when the passion of your reunion took away some of his politeness, when he was just a little bit less careful with you, when he couldn't help himself. He grabbed onto you now, his Force presence blaring his joy into the air, and didn’t let go.  

       You woke up the next morning with the feeling that you'd slept longer than usual. With Anakin next to you, your nightmares had evaded you, and you smiled, your eyes still closed, reaching out for him through the sheets. Your hands came up empty. Your eyelids blinked open.

       You saw the light of the morning through the blinds on the bedroom window, saw from a distance the traffic passing by outside. You saw the sparse room and soft white sheets mussed. But you were in this room alone.

       Panic struck your heart quickly, and your eyes widened. Surely Anakin couldn't have left already? Surely he wouldn't be gone again so soon, leaving you alone here, with your feeling of emptiness, your impossible training, your nightmares—

       You got out of bed, breathing a little too quickly as you walked, barefoot, into the kitchen.

       Here you let out a slow, relieved sigh. Anakin stood with his back to you, working the caf machine, his tunic tied sloppily, the hair on the back of his head messy from sleep. You glided over to him, wrapping your arms around his middle.

       "Good morning," he said quietly, and you felt him grab your hand and pull it up so he could kiss your fingers. You stepped back as he turned to face you.

       "I like your longer hair," you smiled, reaching up to run your hand through his new, short curls. Anakin smiled back, the praise causing a slight pink to grace his cheeks.

       "I like your everything," Anakin laughed, tracing your face with his fingertips. You stood this way, looking into each other's eyes, for a long moment. The caf machine beeped at you.

       "What have I missed, while I was gone?" Anakin asked as he turned and started to pour the caf into small cups. The way Anakin phrased this question was odd—as if he were being careful, as if he were worried about the answer.

       "Absolutely nothing," you grumbled, taking the cup from Anakin and following as he lead you over to the couch. "Everything's been the same, here. Painfully so." Anakin sat next to you on the cushions and put his arm around you, leaning over to kiss the top of your head.

       "I doubt that," Anakin said, still careful.

       "It's true," you answered, staring straight ahead. The only updates were ones that you needed to keep to yourself. "I'm sure you have much more exciting stories."

       "When does Master Yuma think you'll be ready? You know, to join us—"

 "Tell me about Florrum!" You cut him off, avoiding his eyes. "You were there for so long—has the situation improved, at all?"

       "Well," Anakin said, grinning, leaning forward to put his cup onto the side table. You knew he was gearing up to tell you of all of his strategic maneuvers, all of his triumphs as general in the war. He truly was a natural at this, and though you admired his skill, as always, there was a part of you that felt a disquiet. Was it because you were envious? You didn't know. For now, though, you were happy to change the subject.

       "We had secured the western front," Anakin was saying, and you snapped your attention back to focus on his story. "Rex was—"

       But Anakin was cut off by a beeping, coming from the chrono he'd taken off last night. It sat on the kitchen counter, blinking up the codes from its illuminated face. Your heart sank so far, it seemed to you it had disappeared out of your body all together.

       "Not yet," you said softly, your eyes widening, your breathing fast. "You can't leave again already." Anakin kept his arm firmly around you, but you could feel his eyes on your face. You realized you'd absentmindedly grabbed onto the sleeve of his tunic with a vice-like grip. You loosened it, with effort.

       "We don't know what it is," Anakin said, his voice unsure, leaning over to kiss your cheek before getting up to check the chrono and read through his summons. "It could just be for a strategic meeting, or—" Anakin broke off, turning his head back toward the direction of the bedroom. It was only then that you heard another beeping sound. You got up quickly, going to the door.

       "It's coming from my chrono," you whispered, your panic turning to confusion. Anakin's face broke into a wide grin. You turned around to look at him, your eyebrows upturned, not understanding. "I'm...being called to the briefing?"

       "It's about time," Anakin said smugly. "We're back!"

************************************************************************

WE'RE BACK!! AND THERE's A NEW CHAPTER finally :)

divider credit to @racingairplanes

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[tgrailwar-zero]

Several dark familiars manifested- riflemen made of dull mana- that fired upon the SABER in a constant barrage. The bullets shot through the air, the warrior raising his blade to deflect them as gunfire smoke began to replace the fog that was present.

In an instant, AVENGER disappeared. A figure, like death itself, could only be seen as a silhouette.

The SABER swung his blade, a sharp gust of air cutting through the smoke and eliminating the familiars, but it was too late.

The silhouette struck.

A spray of blood, as the Wildfire blade slipped through the gaps in the Archbishop's armor, the holy man letting out a genuine cry of pain. There was a burst of black, magical fire that swallowed the Archbishop, as the warrior dropped to one knee, the flames beginning to consume him.

CAROLUS-TURPIN: "Agh… His Majesty's body--!"

The paladin's body shone with a brilliant white light followed by an echoing heavy clang, forcing ripples across the water as the AVENGER-Class Servant had suddenly gone flying. In a strike that one would think 'out of character' for a holy man, he had swung his armored fist as hard as he could as the red-clad Servant.

Holy people generally weren't 'bare-knuckle brawlers', right?

The AVENGER crashed into a tree, his Mystic Code flickering and fading for a moment before he regained his composure, as the Archbishop put a hand on his own wound, wincing and gasping for breath.

In other words, it seemed as if that choice was rather pivotal, despite the retaliation. Frankly, it seemed as if you had avoided a worst-case scenario for attacking at close range. However, regarding your ally…

[ AVENGER's Endurance has been reduced! AVENGER's 'Avenger' skill is starting to kick in! Mana costs are reduced, and damage is increased! ]

CAROLUS-TURPIN: "…Those flames… you're quite the pained soul, aren't you…? A Servant dedicated to stoking the fires of misery..."

After forcing himself up to his feet, the sound of SABER's footsteps almost echoed as he walked towards AVENGER, one hand firmly on the hilt of his blade. He seemed to be limping slightly, a thin trail of blood dripping onto the grass as he approached.

CAROLUS-TURPIN: "…We both landed good hits, I'd figure this next one will call it."

He called out.

You could feel the rage radiating off of AVENGER- pure power, but a lack of focus in exchange. Similarly, he forced himself up, glaring daggers towards the SABER.

CAROLUS-TURPIN: "…"

GREY MESSENGER: "…"

They both readied their weapons.

This seems to be a critical moment.

[ttrpgbrackets]

Propaganda Below

Read 'Em and Weep:

Spend 2 Stress to ask one of the following questions about someone you have observed either in secret or openly. You may ask additional questions by spending 1 Stress per question.

What was their lowest moment? What do they crave forgiveness for and from whom? What are their secret pains? In what ways are their mind and soul vulnerable?

What makes it cool?

When a player uses this ability it allows the GM to reveal backstory for NPCs they might not otherwise get a chance to, and then the players can use that backstory against them!

Pay to Win:

If you go to Paypal.me/RevRyeBread and send me 1 dollar you can auto roll a 10+, heal harm, tell your gm what happens, or refresh your locked links

What makes it Cool?

it's just plain funny. send the game maker a dollar to do well. the name tells you exactly what you should expect from it and it DELIVERS (so long as you pay)

[oleander-eat-ice]

Prompt Submission by @yiling-laozu-is-loml

Mingxian Prompt - No war AU. Instead of GusuLan, QingheNie hosts guests lectures

CANON SOURCE: Please only use novel and donghua as source material and avoid everything that has to do with untamed/cql. For appearances and outfits, please refer to the donghua.

Bottom Wei Wuxian only please! the number of children they have depends on you but I'd love it if they had at least 2!

No War AU. Instead of Gusulan lectures, QingheNie hosts guest lectures open to everyone, not just sect-allied cultivators but also rogue ones. Rogue cultivator Wei Wuxian decides to chance his luck and maybe learn a few new tricks and sabre wielding but mostly, he goes to confirm rumours about Nie Mingjue's skill, height, attitude, etc (basically to gawk like the gay man he doesnt know he is yet). The way he treats Nie Mingjue (the martial arts and saber instructor) is a mix of how he treats Lan Wangji and Lan Qiren in canon. He flirts and teases and tries to get kicked out and Nie Mingjue keeps him just to outstubborn him and show him his playground bully bullshit wont work on him. Wei Wuxian's parents are alive but he left them to rogue cultivate on his own and make his own name with his inventions and talisman. How they fall in love, have sex and marry is up to you as are the ages. I'd just like for Nie Mingjue to be older, if only by a few years. Feel free to add anything to the plot!

Oh and Wei Wuxian definitely calls him "A-Jue" because I am a sucker for this. What Nie Mingjue calls him is up to you!

Do Not Wants: Nie Mingjue to have been in a past serious relationship, still having sex with someone else in the fic, children from other partners (as in, Wei Wuxian is the only real serious commitment), miscarriage and unhappy ending. If you put Jiang Clan in the fic, please ensure they either have bare-minimum interactions with wei wuxian, are operating in the background and have no plot-related things OR outright Jiang clan bashing. I dont want JC/WWX reconciliation, nor do I wanna see Jiang clan positively please.

If you need help with brainstorming, hmu! And definitely lmk if anyone(s) writes this because I'd wanna feast my soul on this for sure!

[obislittleone]

Come What May

Episode 2/?

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Padawan!Reader (little one)

Warnings: marital problems lol… mentions of ptsd and passed events which are triggering (order 66)

A/n: Man, this is really short and i beg your guys’ forgiveness, but I’m working really hard right now to have my company be in a parade, and things are rlly crazy rn so pls be patient I promise I’m writing whenever I can!

The night surrounded you as you quietly ran through the streets, being ever so careful not to let yourselves be seen by the troopers that were stationed at every corner. Mos Eisley had always been nearly lawless, but now there were also ominous guards that would not even let the kinder folk live peacefully. The entire galaxy was now being run with such tight precision that there was no room for mistakes. The empire had not the slightest guilt over any of it, and how could they? Palpatine, a man you once trusted and fought for, a man whom you once defended with your life because you believed in the ideals of the republic, in democracy, he now ruled with tyranny and thoughtless violence, a Sith Lord that was beyond saving. An unredeemable soul that shall always be tarnished.

When you finally reached your small dwelling in the corner of town, Obi-Wan grabbed his saber from his belt and entered first, letting you follow closely behind at a safe distance. His protectiveness over your being was always evident, but especially now that he thought you could possible be in danger.

He had not yet explained himself for the short reasoning he gave you back at the bar, only that you needed to stay silent and follow him with haste.

Your home hadn’t yet been invaded, but as you quickly packed away all the necessities for the journey out of here, you couldn’t help but wonder if they were closing in, or if you’d have to fight them in any way. Surely a few troopers wouldn’t be hard to face down, especially since they weren’t as well bread or perfectly trained as the clones were.

As soon as you had everything you would need, Obi was again the first to step out the door, his head practically on a swivel in order to make sure that the two of you would remain hidden, and safe.

Your Eopie had been in peaceful slumber for the time being, as he never was usually required to walk this late into the evening. That would soon be changing.

“Obi, you know I trust you, but I need to know what’s going on,” you looked at him sternly, hiking a leg up and over the animal before he did the same. He huffed out a breath and looked over at you, trying to remain calm. His stress was more than evident on his worn out features.

“As soon as we reach Anchor-head, I promise,” he nodded assuringly, and the only thing you could do in response was sigh and face forward. If there was one thing you’d learned repeatedly from years in the past, it was that you lacked control over yourself in the eye of uncertainty. He knew that, but he also knew ignorance was bliss, and he didn’t want you panicking, not when you already had so much to think about. “Hold tight, little one.”

He gave a small kick to the side of the Eopie, and the animal trotted out of his stall quickly and into the night.

-

You both had been riding for hours by the time the lights of the small town were in sight. You’d nearly fallen asleep on your husband’s shoulder, if not for the constant shift of your body caused by the walking Eopie beneath you.

You felt more relaxed now, away from what Obi would only have defined as certain danger. You’d come to terms about year ago with the fact that you would never live a normal citizen life. You’d never get to know the feeling of living without constantly looking over your shoulder, and feeling the need to still carry your saber everywhere you went.

It was endlessly tiring, but you had to accept it. If you didn’t, you still be in a never-ending cycle of worry, doubt, and sadness over how things turned out.

You wish everyday that you might have left with Obi-Wan when he gave you a chance, that you might have been able to avoid everything that happened to your family. To Anakin and to Padme, to the Jedi order, and to the Republic as a whole. You often wonder if Anakin had left the order if things would have turned out differently. Surely he would still be alive, and so would his darling wife the Senator. They would still be residing possibly on Naboo, raising Luke and Leia like they should have been able to from the beginning.

You’d never forgive yourself for everything that happened, because you felt that you were partially to blame. You were too worried about your relationship with Obi-Wan to even see what Anakin had been going through, your best friend, fighting the dark side until it finally took him over completely.

You snapped out of your thoughts when Obi pulled the reigns on the animal, bringing it to a halt as you reached to edge of town.

“We’ll stay here for the night, but then we must keep moving,” he helped you dismount, bringing the sack of belongings with him after he hitched your Eopie to a water trough post.

“Are you ever going to tell me what happened?” You were relentless, he knew it all too well, and yet? He didn’t want you to be burdened with this untimely information. You’d just gotten settled into your new life and already it was falling apart again. He needed to ease your mind, though he knew telling you would probably rile you up instead, you needed to know. “You can’t just rip me out of work and tell me we’re being hunted, Obi. You have to give me some context here.”

He took your hand and stopped walking, turning to look at you sincerely. You couldn’t stand to see him so upset, but you couldn’t stand it even more when you didn’t know why he was upset.

“The troopers landed this morning, and as far as I know, they had orders to search the town. Someone in Mos Eisley tipped them off that two former Jedi were hiding out in the city,” he saw your eyes change immediately, and and much as hated to see the fear, he understood that you wanted to be aware of what was really going on. “As far as I know, you and I are the only Jedi finding solace on all of Tatooine.”

You realized you probably should have waited until you were not out in the open or exposed to ask this of him, because now you felt as though you were being watched from every angle of this space. You were now completely paranoid about every nook and crevice that someone may be looking from. The force did a great many things for you, but without time to meditate, you often were not calm in times like this. Your hands shook, and you had to close your eyes for a moment and breathe deeply to even begin taking steps with Obi towards the Inn.

It was small, it was cozy, and it felt much safer than the darkness of the town streets. Checking in was easy, considering the troopers hadn’t quite reached the town yet. You doubted they ever would, it was too low profile to even be considered by Imperial forces. They would soon probably spread throughout Mos Espa, maybe even Bestine, but you felt as though you could be safe here, at least for the night.

When you’d gotten to the room, Obi tossed you the small sack of things, allowing you to retrieve what you needed before settling in for bed. He should have known you wouldn’t be able to sleep well, but he wanted to hope for the best.

“What are we gonna do?” You began, sitting up on your elbow and facing him with a distraught look in your eye. He tried to caress the side of your face to relax you, but it did little to help. “Seriously, we have no where to go. We can’t leave Tatooine as long as Luke is here, and we can’t be in a place where we might get recognized.”

Obi thought for a moment before telling you. He’d been thinking about this on the entirety of the ride here. He wanted to be able to ease you into it, but you obviously weren’t one for subtlety, and he wasn’t one to keep you waiting for an answer.

“I’ve heard of some abandoned caverns on the edge of the Jundland mountains. They’re livable, but no ones claimed them,” He began, looking down at your arm as he glided over the smooth skin. He wanted to avoid your eyes as he told you this next part, as he knew it was a sure way to make you feel uncertain, but it had to be done. “We can get new jobs that are closer, but we’ll have to change our names. I’ll have to get a job that doesn’t require Identification. If they scan me and I come up in the system, we’re both in trouble.”

“Why would I have to change my name? I won’t come up in the system, I’ve been registered as dead for over a year.”

“My love you have to trust me,” he took both your hands in his, squeezing them tightly to convey his calming presence to you. You let his force signature wash over you for the first time that night, and all at once you were feeling better. “If there’s any chance that they suspected your survival, or even got ahold of the security holograms in the temple, you could be in danger.”

Your life had once again been turned on its axis, and there was no breech in sight. You could only hope that after all of this, you could somehow make it out with minimal scratches, either metaphorically or physically, you didn’t know. Truth be told, you’d considered asking Obi if he at some point would ever say ‘kriff it’ and leave this planet to go somewhere else. To live life on the run and have exciting adventures again, to break rules and single handedly take down the empire. You knew it wasn’t possible, though. You’d both sworn to Master Yoda that Luke would be looked after, and if you broke that promise you’d feel like a failure as a Jedi. You already felt like a pretender to your old title, seeing as though you never took your trials, and never reached knight-hood. It was a damn shame, too. You would have been one hell of a Jedi Knight.

“We also have to make some adjustments in the things that we would normally do,” He said it like he was walking on eggshells, and truthfully he was. His words were probably about to drive you close to insanity if not all the way there. You sensed in him the lack of strength to continue, but urged him on with a look, anticipant of what was to come, and how bad it was truly going to be. “I know this seems overkill, but I feel it’s important. Anything that connected us to the order needs to go. Our sabers, our robes, your braid.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. Since when did Obi-Wan run away and hide, since when did he back down from a fight, and since when did he ever loose sight of who he was and what has become him? He was a Jedi Master if there ever was one, and he was good at it. His ridiculous notions were driving you to think he was the crazy one.

“Next you’ll say we have to cut ourselves off from the force, no meditations, no training…” your face instantly fell from the annoyed joking expression it held. He looked at you with sympathy after those words and you knew what it meant. Oh, how it terrified you. “You can’t be serious. Obi, we’re Jedi, it’s what we do. If we stop now in the midst of all of this then they win, we can’t let that happen.”

“If it means we survive, then it might-“

“No. Stop this,” you sat all the way up, using all the self control you had in yourself to keep from raising your voice at this late hour, knowing there were probably other patrons deeply sleeping by now. “Killing the Jedi is what they want. If we allow ourselves to be cut off from everything we’ve ever known, then we might as well be dead.”

Your anger was well noted to him, but he did not say another word about it, instead, he simply closed his eyes and let himself breathe for a moment. Like it or not, he was bound to you by the force, a bond so strong it was rarely seen in this galaxy. A true dyad, and though he wanted to keep you safe by any means necessary, he knew that by cutting yourselves off would probably put a large strain on your connection. He didn’t know yet if he was really willing to risk that.

When he didn’t give you any response, you turned over on your side, facing away from him, and tugging the sheets up over your shoulder.

“We’ll talk about it tomorrow, but I don’t wanna think about it anymore.”

He understood your anger, and your aggression, though not completely barred towards him, he could see why you acted in such a harsh manner. He only wanted the best for you, he’d proven that time and again, but the methods of his madness by now were getting out of hand, and you feared you might have to step in.

-

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[andmaybegayer]

Last Monday of the Week 2024-05-13

Monday the 13th

Listening: I've been playing a lot of Beat Saber so my beat saber tracks have been stuck in my head, most notably Weapon of Choice by Fatboy Slim.

Reading: About halfway through A Memory Called Empire, which is great. I love a fucked up huge space empire. I am forcing myself to internalize the pronunciation of the Teixcalaanli words because I know otherwise I would just silently read through them.

AMCE gets into it fast and throws a lot of political machination out at you which lands well, the vicarious experience of having to think on your feet about complex social protocol is a lot of fun, it's honestly a much better fit for books than, say, swordfighting.

Didn't take my book with me this morning and while flipping through my ebooks on my phone I noticed that my Google Books copy of Nona the Ninth had an update? there's a small play at the end of the book with Palamedes and Ianthe bargaining over Naberius Tern's body. Absolutely wild. Palamedes does a Phoenix Wright OBJECTION! shout. It's great.

Watching: Avatar 2: Way of Water. Hoo boy. I am so mixed on the Avatar movies. They're not very good, from a storytelling perspective, but they're so much fun to watch. Beautiful animation, lovingly thought through world and set design, hot cat people, and some of the worst narrative you've ever heard.

They're back because in the intervening 15 years from Avatar 1 the earth is now dying and they want to colonize Pandora? Sure, okay, but that's definitely sudden and weird. They're also still harvesting a valuable resource from Pandora, because otherwise they wouldn't be able to do the metaphor, but now it's whale oil that stops ageing. Great. Also it's now proven that even as far back as Avatar 1 it was totally possible to back someone's brain up to a flash drive, and they've resurrected the evil general from there.

Okay wait. They can back up your brain and put it into a lab grown catboy hybrid but we're also harvesting immortality whale oil? Surely we have already solved immortality in this setting. Just back up your brain!

There's also... the rest of the movie. Characters have such muddled motivations, why is this kid who was raised by the Na'vi and knows the general was a murderous bastard helping the murderous bastard brainclone. Why is Neytiri written to have no more than 12 seconds of foresight.

Look, I love the idea of Avatar. There are no doubt incredible lorebooks with details on all the animals and machines and cultures out there, I remember watching the Sideways video on the original designs for Na'vi music that got scrapped because it sounded too weird, I love a crazy xenobio worldbuilding project, it's just not a very good story.

Playing: Dark Souls, made it through the Four Kings and the Bed of Chaos, now I'm into the Catacombs. I will finish my video cuts at some point.

Making: Nothing much this week, small sewing repairs. I did not see much of the aurora, just some faint red skyglow on Friday evening, so no photography.

Tools and Equipment: If you forget to do something at work surprisingly often you can just tell someone "hey sorry I lost track of that" and they will not be that mad at you. but watch out.

[dana170408]

A little guess about Pav.

- Maybe Pav is left-handed. This can be guessed from his models. He holds both a pistol and an officer's saber in his left hand.

Also on the official art of the Pav can be seen-a holster (a small bag for carrying personal firearms.)

It is located on the right side. Many of us have seen from the movies that officers take out a gun from the side where the Holster is. But in many cases, it's just inconvenient to do. Therefore, it is hung on the opposite side from the leading hand.

In the game itself, if we see a Pava with a gun in the free world, then he will hold the gun either in his right or left hand. Most likely, this was done simply for the convenience of Miroslav. He just turned the Pav sprite in the other direction, which we can also notice with other characters.

And let's be honest, most often in such small pixels, players do not pay attention to which hand the character is holding.

But there is a huge counterweight to this whole theory. In the battle with Paul, we can hear such a speech

“I'll give you some head start out of the kindness of my heart. I'll finish this with just my left hand."

- And these words give rise to two vague explanations.

1. Perhaps Pavel wanted to show the player that he would defeat him with only one hand, that is, not in full force. As we know, pity is a humiliating trait for Pavel, and perhaps this is how he wanted to humiliate us.

2. Pav is an "Ambidextrous" (A person who is equally proficient with both hands.)

×Confirmation that Pavel is left-handed &

If you chop off the Pav's left arm during a fight, then it stops attacking the player.

Little things about Pav from Miroslav:

-In response to questions about Pav on Twitter, the game's creator Miro Haverinen said that Pav loves ice cream, and suggested that December 25th could be his birthday, given that it goes well with his character. These remarks were published before Haverin definitively identified all 28 types of souls in the Fear & Hunger universe, indicating that this birth date may no longer be consistent with the canon. This was later confirmed when Miro stated that Pav was born on the pagan holiday of Yule, which actually falls on December 21st.

This is consistent with Miro's statement that the Soul of Chaos is assigned to the Solstice/Equinox, with December 21 being the day of the Winter Solstice in the Northern Hemisphere.