#also Sadie. Sadie let’s have a talk. as you can imagine I interpret things very literally

[the-hilda-librarians-wife]

Johanna: You know my motto: carpe diem, carpe noctem, carpe coles.

Kaisa: Seize the day, seize the night, what’s the last one?

Johanna: Seize the dick.

The bit is that Kaisa actually speaks Latin and understood, she just asked to give Johanna the chance to decide if she really wanted to say that 😭😭😭

[greenandribbonred]

evermore | s. stilinski

chapter ii: in threes

summary: crows, a tattoo & a new threat

word count: 3,7k

warnings: dead animals (ya know, the crow scene) / burns

a/n: big thank you to everyone that has read and taken the time to like and reblog the last chapter! honestly, it means the world, even if it’s such a small gesture. also, I wanted to point out that since Sadie is still figuring things out, she’s a little bit in spectator mode for the moment and that’s why a lot of the chapter is just her thoughts and reactions. promise you’ll get more character interactions soon. thank you for reading and let me know what you think x

series masterlist

“I can’t believe you’re making me go to school,” Sadie complained for the eleventh time that day as she walked into the unfamiliar building, flanked by both Scott and Stiles.

She had protested about it when the boys had dragged her out of bed that same morning, made a fuss about it as she drank her orange juice a little after, and whined the whole car ride from Scott’s house - now also her temporary residency- all the way to school while Stiles tried to talk her into it and reassured her everything would be fine.

“Especially after telling me I’m a werewolf.”

Stiles shushed her with his eyes wide like saucers, a hand over her mouth and an overly dramatic expression of sheer terror plastered on his face. “Sadie, what have we talked about?”

“Sorry,” she threw her arms up in defense. “I’m still processing.”

It had been over a week since Scott had sat her down at the kitchen table and carefully explained to her what had actually happened when she had been attacked and what that bite was going to entail. She had been confused, to say the least, at what was going on and it had taken her a few hours of contemplation on her own before she was brave enough to go back downstairs and face the reality.

Turns out, - and this was just Deaton’s best guess - the full moon had affected her very strongly and very quickly after she was bitten, and she had wandered through the woods like a lost soul for two whole days, even in broad daylight, until she was able to break out of the haze, ending up in Beacon Hills to be found by Scott and Stiles.

Finding out Scott was also a werewolf was possibly the best news she had ever received - though she guessed it was easy to find anything to be a silver lining after discovering her new condition.

He had assured her that she wasn’t going to go through this new chapter of her life on her own and that they would be there for her every step of the way - that she was part of their small and abnormal pack now and they were going to take care of each other. She cried for an hour straight, not really sure if out of relief because of his words or terror for what had happened to her.

Scott had been nothing but supporting since the moment they had found her in the middle of the road, and she thanked the stars every night since then that it had been him who had stumbled upon her that night and not some other person.

For the very first time in a long time Sadie felt like her luck might have been changing - which could perfectly be the understatement of the century since she had just turned into a furry beast with claws and fangs and glowing eyes.

Everyone had been so helpful and welcoming to her and she didn’t know how to feel about it. She was extremely grateful, of course, but she wasn’t used to it, and she was unsure about what the appropriate reaction to it should be.

Scott had talked to his mother, who had kindly agreed to let her stay at their house for as long as she needed; Stiles had given her his old phone, so she could get in contact with them at any moment in case anything happened, and had managed to sign her up at school extremely last minute, which she appreciated, as much as she had complained about it.

Deaton, who she had found out was Scott’s boss, had helped her make sense of her new condition and had offered his help for anything she needed, whenever she needed; Lydia, who Stiles had introduced to her as another supernatural creature which they were still trying to figure out, had been so excited to take her out to buy some clothes, which she had also paid for.

Everyone had been so nice to her, and Sadie wasn’t used to people caring so much - not since her father’s death, at least.

“Besides, how did you even get me signed for this? Isn’t there like a ton of paperwork you have to fill out-”

“You don’t wanna know.” Stiles shook his head, pursing his lips and staring at her absentmindedly like he was recalling something. “Don’t worry your little head about it. Now,” He clapped loudly, slamming his locker door and making both Scott and Sadie jump. “Let’s just focus on going to class, do normal teenager things, don’t think about any of the stuff that starts with a ‘W’ or an ‘A’” He said, peering at Scott, who only stood there awkwardly.

“Anyway,” Stiles went on, dragging them both to their first lecture of the day - english.

The three of them entered the classroom, the boys sitting down next to each other. Sadie looked around as more students settled in their seats, panic slowly coursing through her as some eyes started falling on her.

They’re not looking at you, Sadie, you’re fine.

But they were - they obviously were. She began to feel nervous as the reality settled in. She was actually in school.

Sadie had never liked school - or the teachers, or the classmates, or anything that had to do with it, really. It had always felt more like a prison to her, instead of the safe haven that all the social workers had tried to convince her it was. School was supposed to be very important for foster kids, something that could give them stability and so very needed friendships and social connections, but it had never felt right to her.

Socializing or making friends wasn’t her forte, and neither was studying, so she always felt out of place and on edge. Leaving foster care had meant she didn’t have to go to school anymore, - that being one of the reasons she had left early - but there she was, once again.

“Sadie,” Stiles called out, grabbing her hand from where he was sitting. With a comforting squeeze and a reassuring smile, he guided her to the empty seat to his left.

Sadie smiled back at him, nodding her head and sitting down as she mouthed a ‘thank you’ that she had meant to actually say out loud, but had instead got stuck in her throat.

She settled down and opened her books, watching the painfully awkward exchange Scott was having with his ex-girlfriend, Allison, and she couldn’t help but let out a little chuckle from the second hand embarrassment, already feeling so much better now that she knew she wasn’t the only one going through it at the moment.

Scott glanced her way from his seat with a dumbfounded expression. Stiles gave him a sarcastic thumbs up accompanied with a silly grin, and she chuckled again, this time a little louder.

Scott had told her about Allison and their short lived love story, and it genuinely saddened her that so many things had come between them to the point where it was best if they weren’t together anymore. They were just teenagers. She couldn’t even imagine what it was like to be basically forced to stay away from your first love when there’s clearly something still between them.

Suddenly, all phones in the classroom started buzzing and ringing, including Sadie’s. She reached into her back pocket for it, surprised since the only people that would message her were all sitting down right next to her. She unlocked the device to find it was a message by an unknown number.

“The offing was barred by a black bank of clouds, and the tranquil waterway, leading to the uttermost ends of the earth flowed somber under an overcast sky, seemed to lead into the heart of an immense darkness.” A young woman that appeared to be in her late twenties walked into the class, all eyes fixed on her with bewildered expressions as she quoted the message that had been sent to all of them.

“This is the last line to the first book we are going to read.” She spoke. “It is also the last text you will receive in this class.” She continued with a smug expression. “Phones off, everyone.”

That was one way of making a first impression to your new students.

Sadie wasn’t sure if she liked her for her unusual and original introduction to the class, or if it felt a little too pretentious and stalkerish given she had managed to get a hold of everyone’s phone numbers. It was kind of strange, in her opinion.

• • •

Thankfully, Sadie was good at English. She liked that a lot of it was subjective and left to the reader’s interpretation, opposed to the strict logic of mathematics or the confusing physics. She enjoyed English, and it made sense to her.

Ms. Blake had assigned them some exercises to complete in class, and Sadie had managed to stay focused on them until a voice disturbed her peace.

“Mr. McCall,” Ms. Blake called out.

Scott looked up at her with a confused expression as she gestured for him to get up with an overly kind smile. He picked up his things and followed her out of the classroom.

“Where’s he going?” Sadie whispered, leaning into Stiles’ side.

“I don’t know, can you hear anything?” He said, leaning in too and pointing at his ear so she would understand what type of hearing he was referring to.

Sadie didn’t quite yet know how to put her newfound supernatural abilities to use, but she had gotten the hang of the enhanced hearing fairly quickly.

Trying to focus under the expectant stare of Stiles, she managed to catch what they were saying, though it still sounded a little muffled and distant, not being able to completely isolate their voices from everyone else’s in the school. She still had to practice.

“His mom called, she needs him for something. Do you think it’s something-” she paused, implying she was referring to the supernatural.

“Could be,” he answered. “Let’s not worry yet, okay?” he said when he saw her concerned expression.

Sadie had only known Scott and Stiles for a few days, but she already felt very protective over them. They had been the ones to save her that night and she felt like she was in debt to them in some way, even if they had insisted multiple times - every single time she had thanked them, actually, and it had been many times already - that she didn’t owe them anything and she was a part of their bizarre little family now.

Getting close to people had always been very difficult for her. When she left foster care she wasn’t emotionally prepared to be thrown into a situation like this - creating new bonds and friendships she wasn’t used to and having to trust unconditionally. It had never been her intention to get close to anybody new, afraid of what could happen if she did, and yet there she was. Caring about people.

It’s not that she was cold or a hard egg to crack that simply didn’t care for meaningful relationships with other people. She was the complete opposite, actually: way too sensitive sometimes, extremely caring and warm; compassionate, kind and overall a sweetheart with a heart of gold that had been broken way too many times for her young age. It was just hard for her to show all of these things sometimes. She couldn’t afford losing anyone else, so she mostly kept to herself.

Stiles had told her to not worry - at least not yet - so she tried to distract herself and focus solely on the exercises Ms. Blake had assigned them. She found it extremely hard though with Stiles’ loud whispering to Lydia, who was sitting right in front of her.

“Has it ever bitten you before?”

Lydia shook her head to his question, visibly annoyed at him. Sadie could already see the wheels turning in Stiles’ head, putting two and two together like she had seen him do multiple times already in the few days they had known each other. He was a clever guy that saw things clearly where others didn’t. She really admired him for that.

“Okay, what if it’s, like, the same thing as the deer? You know, like, how animals start acting weird right before an earthquake or something?”

She was about to ask what he meant with the deer, but refrained from doing so when she saw the look Ms. Blake was giving them for speaking. She didn’t want to be told off on her first day of school.

“Meaning what? There’s gonna be an earthquake?” Lydia was clearly done with him and all she wanted was to get back to her exercises.

“Or something, I just-” he insisted. “Maybe it means something’s coming. Something bad.”

Sadie didn’t like the sound of that at all.

“It was a deer and a dog. What’s that thing you say about threes? Once, twice,” Something slamming hard against the glass window behind Lydia interrupted her, leaving a gruesome patch of blood and black feathers behind.

“Oh, god,” Sadie jumped back from the window in shock, pushing herself back on her chair towards Stiles.

Everyone in the classroom stood still in confusion at what had happened, staring at the window the poor bird had crashed against. All of a sudden, the sound of birds shrieking could be heard clearly. All eyes fixed on the windows, they saw what almost seemed like a hundred crows approaching the school, as if flying away from something.

“Stiles,” she stuttered, their eyes quickly meeting in panic before darting back towards the birds.

“Get down!”

One after the other, the crows flew right into the windows of the classroom, and the glass gave in, shattering as more and more of the birds crashed against it. Pure instinct coming over her, Sadie reached forward towards Lydia, crouching down and covering her with her own body. She felt someone doing the same to her, their chest pressed tightly against her back and their arms wrapping around both her and Lydia.

After what felt like minutes of terrified screams and sheer panic, it was over. Sadie locked eyes with Stiles when he unwrapped his arms from around her.

“You okay?” He asked as he helped her and Lydia up, looking around the devastated classroom. The tables had been pushed around and there were black feathers and dead birds laying down everywhere.

Sadie chuckled at his question, trying to ease the tension and the adrenaline still rushing through her veins. She had to laugh at something or she would start crying.

“School is great.”

• • •

“Yeah, I see it. It’s two bands, right?” said Derek, flashing his glowing red eyes towards Scott’s arm.

Scott hummed in agreement.

Derek, who Sadie was finally meeting for the first time after hearing countless tales of him, came off to her as a much nicer guy than Stiles had described him to be. A bit dry and brooding, yes, but nothing she couldn’t get behind.

“What does it mean?”

Sadie and Stiles had left school right after the accident with the birds, too shaken up to go on with the rest of their lectures. Stiles had told her about the terrified deer that had run into Lydia’s car the day before and why he believed they had a reason to be worried about it after what had happened at english class. She trusted his instincts and if he was sure something was going on, then she believed him.

Scott had told them to meet him at Derek’s old house in the woods, without further explanation. Turns out, he had had a bit of an encounter at the hospital, where he had gone to after his mother had told him Isaac, another werewolf, had been badly injured by an alpha.

“I don’t know,” Scott replied. “It’s just something I trace with my fingers,” he drew a small circle surrounded by a bigger one on the dust that had accumulated on top of a table.

“Why is this so important to you?” Derek asked, referring to the tattoo on Scott’s arm that wasn’t visible to the human eye.

“Do you know what the word ‘tattoo’ means?”

“To mark something,” Stiles jumped in, playfully winking his eye at Derek, who only looked at him with an indifferent expression.

Sadie bit down on her lip, holding back a chuckle at their interaction.

“Well, that’s in Tahitian,” Scott continued talking. “In Samoan, it means ‘open wound’. I knew I wanted to get a tattoo when I turned 18, I always wanted one. I just decided to get it now, to make it kind of a reward.”

“For what?”

“For not calling or texting Allison all summer. Even when I really wanted to, even when it was hard sometimes. I was trying to give her the space she wants. Going four months later, it still hurts. It still feels like,”

“Like an open wound,” Sadie finished for him in a shaky voice. She knew a thing or two about open wounds.

He loves her so much, she thought. He understood she needed her space and time after her mother’s death, and he had refrained from contacting her all summer, even if it pained him. She admired him for that. She couldn’t fathom what having to stay away from someone you love felt like. She wouldn’t be able to.

The three men gazed at her, her eyes glinting and throat burning. She swallowed hard and tried to compose herself, blinking the tears away and twiddling her mother’s ring between her fingers. Stiles looked at her with a soft smile.

She hadn’t told him - or anyone, really - about her parents, all he knew is that she had been at foster care before they met her. Still, he could tell by the little things she had let slip here and there in between conversations, and he understood.

“The pain’s gonna be worse than anything you've ever felt,” Derek carried on, picking up a blowtorch and a lighter.

“Ah, that’s great.” Stiles pouted, nodding in nervousness at what was about to happen.

“I don’t know if I can look at it,” Sadie turned around, facing Stiles who looked as uneasy as her.

She didn’t feel like watching Scott in excruciating pain as Derek burned his arm with a freaking blowtorch. Stiles didn’t like the situation either.

“Do it.” Scott said convinced.

Derek proceeded lighting up the blowtorch and Sadie almost passed out.

“Oh, wow.” both Stiles and Sadie cried out at the same time.

“That’s a lot for me, so, I’m gonna take that as my cue. I’m just gonna go wait outside.” said Stiles, hands in his pockets and already exiting the room under Derek’s deathly stare.

“No, you stay,” Sadie pulled him back towards her. “Moral support.”

“You can help hold him down.”

Stiles walked behind Scott reluctantly and held onto his shoulders. “Oh my god,” he exclaimed as Derek got closer to Scott with the blowtorch.

Sadie crinkled her nose up as the fire made contact with his skin, his eyes glowing yellow and his fangs extending. She had to turn away and face the wall when his pain filled cries got louder. All she could hear were the earsplitting screams Scott was letting out as his skin boiled under the fire.

• • •

“Well, it looks pretty damn permanent now.” Surely enough, the two black lines had appeared on Scott’s bicep right after he had passed out from the pain.

“It looks great,” Sadie said sincerely, giving Scott a genuine smile.

“Thanks, I kinda needed something permanent.” Scott agreed. “Everything that’s happened to us, everything just changes so fast. Everything’s so...ephemeral.”

Both Sadie and Stiles stared at him with impressed faces at his usage of the advanced word. The three began walking out of the house and back to the jeep.

“Studying for the PSATs?” asked Stiles.

“Yup.”

“Nice.”

With a gleeful and proud smile, Scott opened the door, already stepping outside before he stopped dead on his tracks.

“You painted the door,” he pointed out to Derek, staring at the red door with narrowed eyes. “Why’d you paint the door?”

Now, that was weird. Why would Derek paint the door of his abandoned house? The place definitely needed a much bigger makeover than a layer of paint on a door.

“Go home, Scott.” Derek said with a defying tone.

“And why only one side?” Scott wondered again ignoring him, his brows furrowed. He flicked out his claws and scraped out the paint with one of his fingers.

“Scott,” Derek called out, walking towards him as he started scratching at the door furiously to remove the paint.

And surely enough, whatever inkling Scott had had about the newly painted door was, in fact, correct. A symbol was drawn under the paint. A symbol, or some kind of warning.

“The birds at school and the deer last night...just like the night I got trampled by the deer when I got bit by the alpha,” Scott was starting to put two and two together.

Derek didn’t look happy.

“How many are there?”

“A pack of them,” Derek sighed, finally giving in to Scott’s questions. “An alpha pack.”

Sadies eyes went wide.

How was that even possible? And what did the symbol on the door mean? How worried should they be?

“All of them? How does that even work?” Stiles asked, as if reading her mind.

“I hear there's some kind of a leader. He's called Deucalion,” Even the name sounded scary. “We know they have Boyd and Erica. Peter, Isaac, and I have been looking for him for the last four months.”

Sadie was still catching up with everything that Scott and Stiles had told her, but she recognized the names of Boyd and Erica as Derek’s betas.

They were just teenagers. They had been held by this alpha pack for four whole months? She was terrified now.

“Let's say you find them.” Scott stepped forward. “How do you deal with an Alpha pack?”

“With all the help I can get.

Sadie was ready to help. She couldn’t even imagine what the poor betas had been going through for months. They had to help them.

“Where is she?” Another voice suddenly jumped in. It was Isaac, another one of Derek’s betas who had been passed out on a table the whole time they had been there. He had just woken up from the anesthesia. “Where's the girl?” he inquired, a panicked look on his face.

Everyone else in the room looked at each other with the same confused expressions.

“What girl?”

[sinceyouaskedme]

Thought on The College Tapes episode 15: 

I listened to the radio broadcast in real time, and yall. It was so good. It was //so good//. I have to eat every mean thing I’ve said about the whole deployment of the in-real-time gimmick. I spent like 20 minutes listening to this random internet radio stream and wondering if I’d somehow fucked up the timing and missed it completely, and then when that first note of Black Parade hit! Yall!! The way my entire chest exploded with the Love For Adam Hayes that i felt in that moment, I can’t even describe it. Fuck, it was SO GOOD.

Every episode of this show should have been formatted as a radio broadcast!!!! 

I know it’s been a few weeks, so just to recap: the last episode ended with the dramatic cliffhanger of Caitlin deciding she was going to go to the spooky library basement where all the spooky mysteries have been happening, and then this episode….takes place ten days later, with there being zero apparent effects from that decision. 

It’s kind of hard to tell with the inconsistent characterization that we get from episode to episode, but I’ve decided I think that Caitlin has actually been brainwashed or kidnapped+bodyswapped or suffered some similar spookiness to make her not herself. (I’m not _just_ saying that because I want plausible deniability for her being into Frankie’s creepy flirting, but I’ll admit it’s part of why I’m sticking with this interpretation until forcibly proven otherwise.)

There’s also probably some kind of time shenanigans going on with this phone call, which is why Caitlin said Sadie was hanging with them when it turns out she was actually ??? out ??? for a midnight run????? 

LMFAO okay but if this is actually Caitlin, I am dying at this bit that’s [Adam waxing poetic about how much he misses climbing Caleb like a tree] [Caitlin hanging the fuck up] 

Sadie saying Adam and Caleb aren’t ex-boyfriends because they’ve been through a lot together doesn’t sit well with me. 1) No matter what happens before/during/after a breakup, it is….still a breakup. They can be other things as well as exes, but that doesn’t stop them being exes. 2) What precisely does Sadie think she knows about what they’ve “been through”? She dropped a reference in an early episode about the AM being shady, but the AM never hurt them directly. The thing that Caleb and Adam really “went through” imo is Safe House, and I can’t imagine them talking about that entire ordeal with outside parties after the fact? 

“Don’t be embarrassed. Pigeons are,,,cool” GOD I forgot the exact flavor of idiot Caleb used to be, I love him with my whole heart. 

Obviously this wouldn’t work with Luminary, but I kind of wish they had just re-dropped the entire Stakeout recording as its own episode. Sure, cut out before the Damien bit, but otherwise just play it straight through (with that static overlay to make it clear that Adam is listening back to the recording that he still has all these years later) and let the nostalgia hit directly without characters talking over it.

Adam saying he never stopped feeling lonely (and tired with it) except for when he was with Caleb. Literally that alone and aside from every other thing that has ever happened is reason enough for Adam to be single right now. Like, damn my guy, you really still haven’t learned how to love your own company? Work on that. 

Caleb and Cole broke up off-screen, which means the entire point of this entire character was indeed just to make Adam feel kind of jealous for like two scenes. Amazing. 

WHAT WAS THE POINT OF DOING THE MIDNIGHT STAKEOUT IF THEY’RE NOT EVEN GOING TO FOLLOW THE SPOOKY GUY INTO THE LIBRARY, IM YELLING 

[puts my feminist parent hat on again] The thing about Sadie’s entire characterization being “mom friend” is that she isn’t even good at that role? Of course “wants to be a mom friend but doesn’t know how” could be an interesting character premise, but I don’t think that’s what’s happening here, I think she’s just being written by people who collectively have very little experience with caring responsibilities broadly and with motherhood specifically.

Like, I’m not talking in the biological sense of reproducing or in the general sense of parenting, but in the very specific and gendered work of running a household + caretaking as a woman* -- being a mom is a lot of work, a significant chunk of which is doing emotional regulation for the people in your care. And the writers are putting Sadie in the position of doing that work, of monitoring Caleb and Adam’s moods and then putting all this time and effort into helping them be happy, and I just….have no idea why she’s doing that. okay, ostensibly it’s because she loves Caleb, but again….why? We don’t have any info on their backstory, how they met or what they’ve been through together or why/when he even told her about his ability in the first place. (AM I SALTY ON CAITLIN’S BEHALF? MAYBE SO.) They don’t even vibe in the scenes they have together, in part because it’s always just Sadie doing this caretaking instead of acting like a Person. It really feels like “this is the work the woman character is doing because this is the type of work that women are supposed to do, don’t question it, don’t think too hard about their motivations or all the other things they could be doing with their time”. 

Anyway, Adam angsting about how he doesn’t get to be the main character in this scene where he is LITERALLY the main character, playing off this,,, fucking,,,,, shadow of a female stereotype feeding him all his prompt is…….well, I wouldn’t say it’s self-aware, but it certainly is meta 

[squidproquoclarice]

About Arthur's kidnapping in chapter 3: considering he suffered a direct shotgun blast (which later went septic), multiple beatings, a head injury, days without food or water, was hung upside down, and rode god knows how long in that condition, he would have realistically needed A LOT of care after his escape. He might have been bedbound for a while and needed help feeding and dressing himself. Not to mention he'd need the Victorian equivalent of physical therapy to get his shoulder working.

2. It recently occured to me after reading yet another fanfic interpretation of "blessed are the peacemakers" that the whole gang royally dropped the ball during that arc. You can imagine how bad Arthur felt after learning no one was looking for him. What's your interpretation of how the gang reacted to Arthur's near-death experience and having to take care of and protect him for weeks as he recovered? Sadie came across as a bit harsh considering how protective she got later when he got tb.

~~~~~~~~~~

Yeah, I strongly quibble with that shoulder injury and him shaking it off with no effects after “a few weeks”.  He had sepsis to the point there was actual concern he would die.  He might recover from that within a few weeks, but he’d be pretty weak at the end of it.

The big issue is the shoulder injury.  He took a shotgun slug to the shoulder, and fortunately, it apparently missed both significant bone injury and significant blood vessels, so it didn’t kill him.  But much like how TB left some lingering effects, that doesn’t mean that he’ll heal up quickly and perfectly.

Ask @mearcatsreturns and others in Timeless fandom about my rants about Garcia Flynn’s injury, and how “shot in the shoulder” being treated as an injury that’s not really life threatening and that you bounce back from quickly is a trope with incredible longevity in fiction, and it’s also incredibly wrong.  I can apply that here with Arthur.  (Seriously, tall, green eyes, loves a good journal, snarky, Dramatic Disaster Bi, Sad Dad who lost a lover and a child to violence, self-loathing, done things he hates himself for--Flynn’s gotta be descended from Arthur.)

I wrote Flynn weeks and even months later going to regular PT, and struggling with the injury and extensive rehab.  He also has the advantage of modern medical care plus a smaller-gauge bullet.  I don’t have that luxury with Arthur, but he becomes an unusual case of not noticing it quite as much as a normal, healthy man would.  The gunshot wound and TB are already comorbid since it’s the post-injury weakness that let the TB take root, but they become even more entwined because the GSW effect sort of disappears as his entire body is rapidly weakening.  Even in his recovery in Mexico, the shoulder wouldn’t show up as much after so much forced bed rest and slow rebuilding of his body and strength, because his entire body is very weak at that point. 

But I’m careful to write him having some lingering weakness in that shoulder in the months and years that follow, and even in 1907, it aches when he’s pushed himself too hard physically for the day, or it’s cold.  It’s pretty damn good again, but it’ll never be exactly what it was pre-injury, particularly as Arthur is getting older besides.

I’m guessing in the gang, there was a lot of guilt from some people at not looking for him.  You know Dutch (via Micah instigating it) had to have provided a good explanation, or else Hosea and others would have ridden out raising holy hell.  Tilly and Susan are specifically cited in his journal as taking on a lot of the nursing duties.  Others ask him how he’s doing when he’s up and about again.  Dutch pays some lip service to guilt, but much like his pre-scripted speech in Colter, it feels pretty hollow if he so easily dismissed Arthur.  They’re aware Arthur is not good at being taken care of, given his perception of lack of value except as a tool means he feels he’s not entitled to being cared for.  So I think the wisest among them managed to do it carefully in a way that didn’t make him feel feeble or needy, even as yes, he was weakened and in need of help.  

As for Sadie, yeah, that’s a big ouch, and I think she realized quickly enough how harsh it sounded that she demanded to know whether he got Colm rather than asking after his well-being.  I’ve had her cringe at that in Sunrise more than once.  

Her anger plays a part in it, of course, and there may be some struggling with understandable resentment and rage against fate that he survived the O’Driscolls when Jake didn’t.

But I do think a lot of that is her fear talking.  She watched men there at Colm’s behest murder Jake, and suffered several days of captivity, including almost definite sexual assault.  Now the one man (though I’d argue maybe Hosea also) she really has let herself start to trust and befriend is kidnapped by Colm O’Driscoll.  He comes back after several days, nearly dies, and has been tortured and subjected to any number of things in his captivity that like her, he likely will be reluctant to speak about.  

She lost Jake.  She’s almost lost this man she’s let herself start to care about, and watched his suffering in the days after he came back to camp, which has to bring back some terrible memories.  Colm O’Driscoll just proved again with one casual gesture how much he can fuck up her life, how he can still threaten her.  She has to feel like she’s absolutely not safe until Colm is dead.  Hence her demand to know whether that’s the case, before saying anything else.

Honestly, she’s not wrong in that fear.  Colm’s coming for the Van Der Lindes.  He does it again, and her berserk attack at Shady Belle again has as much to do with her fear as her vengeance, I think.  And after being attacked in her home again by the O’Driscolls, yeah, it’s actually sort of reasonable for her in her panic to be going to go after them full bore saying to herself, “I’m not safe so long as any of these motherfuckers are left alive.”  Ergo, some of her Chapter 6 actions.   

So yeah, that “Did you get Colm O’Driscoll?” is not her most admirable moment, and Arthur’s right to call her out on it with his snarky reply of something like “I’m doing fine, thanks for asking.”  But when you dig into it, it’s a pretty understandable reaction to someone with massive PTSD who’s had the everloving fuck triggered out of them by Arthur’s ordeal.  And clearly she shows very shortly after that where her care and loyalty lie, and they’re 100% with Arthur all the way.

[gruntadminloch-moved]

How does Loch feel at the prospect of having a boyfriend/girlfriend/partner? Is it something he's actively looking/hoping for? Is he interested in long-term relationships or short-term?

Ask my muse extremely personal questions. (meme | askbox)

“Aah…I’ve never really…well, I…may have? But… .”  Loch fidgets, clinking the rings he decided to keep after the Ball against his pendant.“I have more important things to worry about, of course.  I have work to do, and my job is very important!  I don’t even have many friends, let alone having someone who’s something more than that, but…it seems nice?  Seeing others around with each other, being affectionate and the like…it seems nice.  Maybe I just find being dedicated to somebody in that way appealing to me…

“But it doesn’t see like something you get drawn to just one person for.”  He tilts his head a little, glancing off to the side, probably at some nearby grunts he could tell you probably have mutual feelings for one another. Or maybe there’s a pair of them in the crowd constantly about Shady House.  Maybe he’s not eying anything in particular, just doesn’t want to look at you.  “Master…I obey him over anyone else.  I never want him to think I’d obey somebody the way I’d obey him.  To me, his word is law. D-disregard that he actively encourages everyone to break the law–aah… .”

Rambling again.  “But…I don’t know.  I don’t think about it much–don’t socialize much, so how could I?”  A chuckle.  “I wouldn’t mind dedicating myself to someone–or some people, as it strikes me as odd that we admit we experience this feeling for so many people but often insist we must dedicate ourselves towards a one–but I imagine that…it’d be dangerous for me. And possibly them, but in a different way. And they’d quickly grow tired of me, whether because I proved…” He swallows, a little uncomfortable, tugging at his pendant.  “A poor or unsuitable partner despite best efforts, or because I’m too dedicated to Master Guzma to properly dedicate myself to them, or anything similar.  In which case, I wouldn’t mind if it was short.  I wouldn’t mind if it worked out and lasted a long time, either.

“But it’s not something actively on my mind.  The notion seems nice.  But I think it’d be easier to have friends before I started on such things.”  A shrug.

Ooc answer under the cut

The truth is Loch’s highly inexperienced when it comes to relationships and, as usual, tends to put work first anyway.  His history of dependency problems shines quite a bit when it comes to sexuality and relationships, often letting his partner lead or make decisions because he doens’t really know what else to do besides attempt to emulate things he understands that others do.

Loch never really had a lot of peer relationships before Skull, so he kind of craves similar things to that, where he’s positively on level with somebody.  The idea of dedicating himself to someone who knows him and trusts him strongly is highly appealing but also scary.  He knows he struggles with saying no or denying the wills of a loved or trusted one.  So it rubs him as allowing himself to be taken advantage of.  But in scenarios where the love is good, it all seems so…pleasant.  Warm.  Close and affectionate.  Trustworthy.

It frightens but also interests him.  He doesn’t make any effort to find a partner, but when he is interested in someone it can get obsessive.  Whoever is his “Master” will always come first, however. He’s never really been in a relationship so he’s not particularly drawn to the concept–never saw it as a fairytale kind of thing where he got married and had kids and dogs and a white picket fence.  Relationships just seem to him like nice things that other people get to experience. He’s still working on friendships lmao but so far the developing romantic things he’s got are very nice. He’s not unfamiliar with the concept, even referred to himself as Sadie’s boyfriend to others once, but he doesn’t really see it as something he has right now.

Length…as he said above, length doens’t matter to him.  Most of his relationships would probably end on fairly amiable terms as long as no one expects him to stop being Loch or shift his dedication to them.  He’ll give them the world.  If he really loves them or interprets them as being in a relationship he won’t know what to do and he’ll just do whatever they want even at risk of his own interest in attempt to maintain it.  But considering in his everyday life he’s recovered a certain amount he may be able to see the harm he’s inflicting on himself and take himself out of it.  He’s not anticipating relationships at all, let alone for them to last, but the concept seems so nice he wouldn’t say no to it going for a long time.

Tbh Loch…isn’t entirely interested?  I won’t say he’s ace/aro–he certainly isn’t in most universes as he’s either riding jacks or halfway stalking benji or sadie–I think he may be in Schädel und Gehirn? But that also crosses over with his ship verses sometimes.  But Loch’s workaholic, Master-dedicated attitude leads to him being…he’s not drawn to relationships too much.  As he said above, he has work to do, important work, and he’d rather live vicariously through others because that’s something that takes less time.  If his verse-Guz is with someone his sexuality tends to decrease it seems–although, I think he may be somewhat jealous of @plumeriaxskull in that particular verse???????????????????? but i think that’s because he wants to be able to help take care of @craniumaniac and he’s pushed him away and told him not to because that’s Plumeria’s job.  I don’t know if it’s a romantic jealousy.  It may just feel that way because of the dedication aspect.  He still gets excited seeing them interact, though, so I don’t think it’s romantic.  I think he just.  Wants to be useful.  And Guzma’s said the reason he can’t be useful to him that way is because Plumeria is lol i am too slow a tagger for us to be properly exploring this the way we should be. i asked for questions to help me do tags and now i’m like ‘no let me spend a hundred years telling you everything about my character’ lolol

it’s 2am and I THINK i’ve answered the question. i think. lemme know if i haven’t and we’ll talk about it some more.

[streetsolo]

A Flare in the Dark (chapter 5)

Click here to read on ao3 or

               You sit in a room, much like the one you had interpreted in every day for the past few days. You assume that they all probably looked more or less the same; the First Order surely couldn’t be bothered with aesthetics. Meeting rooms were meeting rooms. They were there to serve a purpose, and you highly doubted that the First Order was concerned with impressing anyone in a diplomatic sense. No, they had their soldiers and guns and advanced weaponry. If they wanted to impress anyone, they had muscle for that. Meeting rooms were probably of little to no importance to them.

               You are there quite a while, simply waiting, and you wonder if the Storm Trooper who was assigned to you got lost, or simply decided it wasn’t a meeting worth showing up for. B did say that this meeting was of little consequence, and so it made sense that the Storm Trooper would be running late. He probably decided to sleep in, or have a late breakfast, or chat with some people before he or she came in. You think it over. It made sense. Of course, on the other hand, it could also mean that they were taking a longer time reviewing your records before they came in, so they could better discern if you were lying. The thought scares you, but you immediately know that it is highly unlikely. They could simply bring your records with them if they wanted to fact-check you; no memorization required. Especially if these meetings were of no consequence, memorizing silly facts about a silly girl would be a gigantic waste of time.

               You are sitting facing the wall, the door off to your right. It suddenly slides open, and you expect to see a flash of white. Instead, you see a flash of black, and you know who it is before your eyes meet the black slit in that familiar mask. Immediately your heart jumps into your chest. Don’t say his name. Don’t even think it. That was what Taro warned you yesterday. And now? Now Kylo Ren was going to probe your mind to make you spill all of your secrets, even the ones you had no idea that you had.

               He sits down in the chair across from you, and you let out a heavy breath through your nostrils. You shrink a little under his intense gaze, forcing yourself to look at the mask but avoid staring directly into the eye slit. What kind of monster was under there? Did he have tentacles? Eight eyes? Wondering what he looked like was hardly the point, but if he was trying to probe your mind, it would probably be best to keep your thoughts distracted, wouldn’t it?

               “Name?” he asks. You give it.

               “Age?”

               “Twenty-six.”

               “Home planet?”

               You hesitate for a moment, and then state the name of the planet where you went to school. If he can read minds, he’ll know you’re lying. If he’s a good read of character, however, he might know you’re lying anyway. It was tough to tell.

               He pauses for a moment, settling back in his chair. “Do I frighten you?”

               Your eyes shoot up to the slit, and then look away. What was under there? “No.” You do what you can to make yourself look tall.

               “You’re not a very good liar.” Shit.

               “I just don’t think it’s fair that you can conceal yourself behind a mask while quizzing me about my true intentions,” you say firmly. Yes, you had been warned many times to beware of Kylo Ren and his temper, but maybe he wouldn’t lash out at you if you were honest. You could only hope.

               He cocks his head to the side. “Would you like me to take my mask off?”

               You hesitate, but try not to let it show. Do you really want to know what’s under there? “That’s up to you. It makes no difference to me who you are.”

               “And who are you?” he asks, making no move to take off the mask. “Or who are you pretending to be?”

               “I’m an interpreter,” you tell him. “A linguist. I study languages and I help aid in the clear and concise trade of information between two parties.”

               “And how many languages do you know?” he asks. That stupid flat tone of voice through the helmet is starting to get on your nerves, but you try not to let it show.

               “Verbal or nonverbal?” you ask. He just stares you down through that unblinking slit and doesn’t answer. Honestly, you knew so many you could hardly keep track. You knew when someone else was talking or signing whether or not it was a language you knew, or could at least figure out. With so many languages abound, there was always some occasional overlap. You decide to pull out a number and hope it sounds confident enough. “Forty-seven, fluently.”

               He crosses his arms over his chest, almost like he doesn’t believe you. “And how exactly would it benefit you to know so many languages?”

               “It just interests me,” you say quietly, but there is an edge to your voice. “People interest me. Cultures interest me. It’s just interesting.”

               “And how did you get to be fluent in all of these languages?” he asks. “Considering the primary language of that planet is Basic, I can’t imagine that you would have much experience with other languages there.”

               Your eyes widen ever so slightly, but you try not to let it show. “Rigorous study,” you tell him. “And we do have a trading post. All sorts of people do come round, now and again. It’s a good way to pick up new languages and assess your skills.”

               “A small one,” he says, as if he’s familiar with it. You can’t imagine that he would be. “But it’s not a major trading hub. Anyone savvy enough to venture there to trade would know at least enough Basic to secure a trade.” You stare him down. “If anything, knowing so many languages could only prove beneficial for survival. Learning the language and customs of another planet can make it easy to disappear from one place and blend in someplace else.”

               “There is peace there,” you say firmly as possible. “There would be no reason for me to run away. My dedication to my craft is hardly indicative of-“

               “Tell me the truth.” His fist slams on the table, and you flinch involuntarily. You stare him down. He is asking you for information, and for all you know, if you don’t tell him, he probably has very painful means of taking it.

               “Fine,” you say, giving him the name of a planet with a much larger trading hub, notorious for back-alley trades and shady dealings. “I was born there. My mother died when I was very young. My father would always take me with him wherever he went, and so I met a great deal of people and learned a great many languages early on. My father was fond of drink and ebla and he had quite a temper. One day he didn’t have enough money and so when I was not yet twelve, he sold me to an eclectic trading crew that dabbled in a bit of everything, mostly human cargo. One day I found my language skills proved useful when I overheard that they were about to be double-crossed in a trade. They kept me on their ship as an interpreter, and there I remained for years until we landed on the planet that housed my academia. The trading crew had stumbled upon a rare book that the school wanted, and while I was negotiating the deal, the man brokering the trade was impressed with my knowledge and quizzed me in over a dozen languages. He told me he was looking for a language tutor for his daughter, Sadie, to give her more worldly experience. I agreed only under the condition that I would not be a slave and that I could enroll in school with her. He was a very kind man, and incredibly wealthy. He paid a high price for both me and the book, and I have stayed close to his family ever since.”

               He stares you down, but you stare right back. That was it. That was the truth. You had nothing to hide. There was no reason for him to go into your head now, and you suspect he knew that. If he did, the only thing he would find there were memories that you didn’t care to dwell upon. As far as you were concerned, your life began when you enrolled in school and started tutoring Sadie. Both she and her family had never treated you as anything other than a friend, and you were grateful for an environment where your language skills could be used in a positive way. The only other person there that could confirm the story was B. He had immediately picked up on your advanced language skills in class, and you had reluctantly confided in him the truth of your origins. He had then taken on somewhat of a mentor role towards you, and although you didn’t particularly feel the need for one, his friendliness towards you was appreciated. Plus, he also gave you work, and work gave you money, which was always a nice incentive. Sadie’s father always offered, but you could never take anything from him. He had bought your freedom and gave your future a sense of safety and certainty. That in itself was something you would never be able to repay.

               “Is that the truth?” he asks. He had been sitting in the chair, arms crossed over his chest, almost slouching, as he listened to your story. Now he sat up and put his elbows on the table as he leaned forward.

               “Yes,” you reply, a little uncertainly. Of course it had been the truth, did he really expect you to rehearse such an unsavory story? “Sadie can confirm it, although her father never did want me to tell her how he had acquired me. He wanted her to have the experience of languages and cultures without their direct interaction, should she ever need it. He knows how life in the galaxy can be.”

               He is silent for a long while as you just sit there and wait. His glare is not nearly as ominous or oppressive as it was when he had first walked in, but it could simply have been because you were getting used to the mask. His expression behind the mask, however, was unreadable as ever.

               “Do you miss your father?” he asks, and the question takes you aback. You honestly chose not to think about your father as often as possible, not that that was difficult to do. He was part of a life that you no longer wished to recognize as your own.  

               “No,” you reply curtly.

               “Do you hate him?” What?

               “My father is most likely dead,” you reply. “It never does well to dwell upon grudges that we have no chance of remedying.”

               “Do you think he was an honorable man?” Seriously, what are these questions? you ask yourself. What could he possibly hope to gain by asking me this?

               You shake your head. “The man sold his daughter for drink. I would not say he was.”

               “Would you say that you are an honorable person?” he asks. You can tell by the way he leans forward that he is waiting for your answer. Was that his real question all along?

               You hesitate before you give it. “I am neither honorable nor dishonorable,” you tell him. “I am an interpreter. I do not make decisions. I interpret words. I carry messages, but I am not responsible for who says or does what with the information I provide, as long as that message does not stray from the initial utterance. It doesn’t matter if it’s right or wrong, it’s not my decision. The consequences of someone else’s words do not rest on my conscience.”

               He seems to consider this for a moment. “Your reasoning is either very smart or incredibly stupid,” he says. He gets up suddenly, so fast he almost knocks the chair over, as he gets up and leaves the room. You stare after him for a moment, not quite sure what to do or say. But as the doors slide shut behind him, you realize there’s not much you can do with either. He’s gone.

               You let out a deep breath that you didn’t realize you were holding in and bury your face in your hands. That had been very, very intense, and you couldn’t believe you had told him as much as you had. Had he compelled the truth from you? You shake your head, as if to confirm this to yourself. No, it didn’t feel like he had used any sort of mind tricks on you, aside from the typical intimidation tactics that you could plainly see. You stand up slowly and make your way towards the door. You carefully peep out into the hallway, but he’s already gone.

               Slowly you make your way down to the cafeteria, where Sadie, Ladson, and Shayne are already eating. You grab food as quickly as you can and sit down to join them. “You were in there a while,” Shayne says. It’s probably not smart to talk about this in front of other Storm Troopers, but you can’t hold yourself back right now.

               “Who did you get for your interview?” you ask.

               “Just someone in a white helmet,” Sadie says, and the rest of them nod their heads. “Why? Who did you get?”

               “Just, someone in a white helmet,” you say nonchalantly. “I know our times were staggered. I wasn’t sure if it was one person doing all of our interviews or what.”

               “I don’t know,” Ladson shrugs. “We were all in and out within ten minutes. What took you so long? What were you telling them?”

               You hesitate for a moment, trying to think up a good excuse. “My guy got there really, really late,” you say. It’s not all that far from the truth. “I was waiting a really long time before they guy came in, then he asked me a few questions and then left really suddenly. It was all rather weird.”

               “Yeah, well, it can’t be any worse than what we’ll have to do later,” Shayne sighs. “Interpreting for the Tortutaru and General Hux? I’m surprised B and C didn’t just take this one.”

               “They could use a day off,” Ladson says. “And besides, our skills are more than good enough for the task at hand.”

               “Precisely,” Sadie says. It never dawned on you before just how annoying it was to listen to her agree with everything Ladson says. She must have caught the look on your face as she picks up her hands and asks you if something’s wrong. You make the sign to gesture that you’re fine, and continue eating your food. First the ominous stare, and now Kylo Ren was singling you out to learn your history firsthand. Why was he singling you out, specifically? What could be the reason for it? You didn’t know anything.

               Sadie’s partner is nice enough, but he likes to pepper his signs with a lot of word play and jokes and off the cuff remarks. Sadie is quick to laugh at his jokes, but you struggle to keep up, and are silently thankful that Taro is taciturn by comparison. Most of his humor and jokes go straight over your head, unfortunately. You always struggled to understand jokes in other languages, but this was hardly a surprise, considering you struggled to understand jokes in Basic. Sometimes the humor in a joke lied in the way he signed something, the way he would invert his wrist slightly to misproduce the sign intentionally. Sadie would laugh as if she understood, but whatever was funny about it lay past the point of your comprehension. Still, you took your cues from her, and you knew enough to smile so that it touched your eyes and laugh along. You had no idea if Sadie understood the jokes or if she was just better at interpreting the right cues for when to laugh, but either way, you let her interpret this meeting.

               There was a table in the center of the room so that each party could sit on either side, and one chair was pulled up to the side of the table for the interpreter. There were a row of chairs along the wall to the right, behind where Sadie was sitting, and so you took one close to her, so you would be almost right behind her in case she needed you. You knew she wouldn’t, but the back-up was appreciated anyway, especially in terms of emotional support. You had no idea what to expect of General Hux. Fortunately for you, he was extremely cordial.

               “Ladies,” he says as he walks into the room. You both stand, although her Tortutaru did not. You didn’t know his name; he just distinguished himself by a letter on his shoulder. “I’m General Hux, commander of the Starkiller base.”

               “It’s so nice to meet you,” Sadie says, and she sounds as if she’s almost gushing. If B was really looking for someone to play the innocent, nervous girl role, he should have picked Sadie. She was practically bred for it. You were far too cynical to be anything but.

               “I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure,” he says, bowing slightly as he takes her hand and raises it to his lips. She giggles, and it’s everything you can do not to vomit in your mouth; the whole scene looks way too forced. You knew it, and you were sure Sadie knew it too, but it was almost mandatory that you play along.

               “I’m Sadie,” she replies. She gestures towards you. “And I believe you’ve already met-“

               General Hux says your name, and you try not to act too surprised. You had given your name to Kylo Ren, but General Hux was quite a distance away, and you were sure that he hadn’t heard you, which could only mean that your name had come up in conversation. It was probably only in passing, but after Kylo Ren’s visit earlier, you couldn’t help but wonder.

               “You’re good with names,” Sadie says as she sits down. He takes a seat down in his designated chair, and you are silently thankful he didn’t come over and kiss your hand as well as you take a seat of your own. He simply smiles good-naturedly at her as he starts the meeting.

               It’s interesting to see Sadie interpret. During class assignments, your feedback, more often than not, was that you always seemed emotionless, like a drone, constantly processing and churning away. That’s what it felt like to you, so it wasn’t really that bizarre to imagine that that’s what you looked like on the outside as well. Sadie was a whole different story. She made interpreting look almost effortless. Her eyes shined and she smiled while she was working. Not that there was anything wrong with that, but it looked like she was genuinely interested in what other people had to say, and sought to carry on that interest to the third party. Even when you could tell she was concentrating, she would bite her lip in a way that could only be described as endearing.

               It didn’t help that she was ridiculously beautiful. You would describe your own looks as gamine at best, but Sadie had long dark hair that she constantly wore in a single braid down her back. Her skin was darker than yours, and she had big brown eyes that stood in stark contrast to your own pale features. General Hux noticed it too, you could tell by the way he would sneak glances at her whenever she had turned to face the Tortutaru. You weren’t disgusted with him for looking; she attracted a lot of attention from both girls and boys alike, and she knew how to use it, but it still felt inappropriate. You still felt protective of her, and every time he glanced at her and did that cocky little half-smile of his, it made your stomach churn.

               The meeting didn’t take very long at all. He had simply asked about the Tortutaru’s history, which was not an expansive affair by any means, considering he had never really travelled outside his home planet aside from a few minor occasions. As he gets up to leave the room, Taro comes in, and Sadie and you switch seats. General Hux forces a tight smile in your direction, and you quickly force yourself to return it before he glances away. You can immediately tell he liked Sadie better, but that didn’t bother you in the slightest.

               Truth be told, I don’t really like you much either, pal, you say in your head. You turn to Taro and nod to him confidently, assuring both him and yourself that you are not intimidated by General Hux in any way.

               “Now then-“ General Hux starts, but he is interrupted by a knock on the door. “Come in.” There is a pause as the door opens, and Captain Phasma walks in, dressed in her signature silver armor. You smile up at her, politely, but she does not seem to take any notice of you.

               “Sir, your presence is requested. I’m told it’s important.”

               “It always is,” General Hux replies sarcastically. He looks at you then forces another smile at Sadie before he gets up and leaves the room. “I’ll return shortly.”

               Taro looks at Sadie and makes the sign for what? Sadie blinks at him in confusion, and you burst out laughing. You snap your first two fingers against your palm with both hands so loudly that there is a resounding smack as you hold your hands up in her direction. HA.

               “What?” Sadie asks out loud, repeating the sign on her hands.

               Taro taps under his eye and you spin around to face her, hanging loosely over the side of your chair to look at her. “The way he was looking at you,” you murmur.

               “Oh,” she sighs. “That.” She brushes her bangs out of her face. “He’s kind of creepy.” She realizes that she had stopped signing, and points to the door where General Hux had just left and makes a face, sticking out her tongue.

               Taro taps his first two fingers repeatedly against his palm, lightly echoing the motion you had recently made to show silent, gentle laughter. He turns towards you and makes the sign for interview followed by the sign for good. He tilts his head to the side.

               You hesitate. You want to tell him about Kylo Ren, but you don’t know if that would be appropriate. You don’t really want to talk to B about it, as you’re concerned what he will say if he knew you had accidently attracted negative attention to yourself, but at the same time, Taro was more or less your client. It wouldn’t really be appropriate to talk to him either. Telling any of the others seemed like an unnecessary risk to take, and you didn’t want to get them caught up in it, especially not Sadie. So was there no one on this base that you could actually talk to? Somehow, that seemed like an even worse position to be in. Apparently you had somehow captured the special attention of the most dangerous, powerful man on this base, and you were completely and utterly alone.

               Taro seems to sense something in your hesitance, but he doesn’t have time to question you further. The door slides open, and to your absolute horror, Kylo Ren walks in. The air in the room immediately changes. Behind you, you can almost hear Sadie making herself smaller as Taro sits up a bit straighter, eying Kylo Ren with weary concern. You immediately spin around in your chair and sneak a look at Taro out of the corner of your eye, silently waiting to take any direction from him.

               Kylo Ren’s gaze sweeps the room for a minute before he sits down in the chair that General Hux had previously occupied. He doesn’t look at you at all, and for once, you’re grateful for that. Taro turns towards you so suddenly that you can almost hear his neck snap as he tells you to sit in the chair next to Sadie. You immediately climb out of your chair and follow his instructions as fast as possible, resisting the urge to grab Sadie’s arm for support.

               Neither of them looks at you. Instead, they seemed to have locked gazes and were communicating purely by thought. The air in the room felt charged with electricity, and you couldn’t tell if it was because the Force was at play, or if it was because you were watching the mental energy of two powerful entities clash against one another. They both seemed to be intensely focused, especially Kylo Ren. His hands were gripping the side of the chair tightly with each gloved hand, whereas Taro’s posture suggested a stern, yet calmer, authority.

               Your attention is tugged away from them by Sadie, who glances at Kylo Ren with her eyes and then makes the sign for scary.

               You shake your head and lower your hands to make your gestures as hard to see as possible, so as to not call any attention to yourself. You shake your head and spell out the word mask and then make the sign for coward.

               She glances back at them and then back to you, making a face of confusion as she taps the side of her head twice with one finger. You just shrug, keeping your shoulders as close to your body as possible. You don’t have the faintest idea what they’re talking about. You highly doubt Kylo Ren speaks Tortutarune, so you could only imagine that they were trying to communicate in its rawest form: with mental pictures, with emotion, with pure energy. It was nerve-wracking. You didn’t need to see his face through the mask; the body posture alone suggested frustration. Whatever Kylo Ren wanted, Taro wasn’t giving it to him, or at least, not easily. Over time, Taro’s pose looked weaker as he leaned back in his chair, and you couldn’t tell whether he was struggling to maintain the mental energy or if he was in actual pain. Kylo Ren was sitting so far forward on the chair now that he almost may not have been really been seated at all, his hands out by his sides with his palms open, as if he were channeling.

               Suddenly, Taro turns to you and signs something to you. It’s a short phrase, a simple one, but you blink and make the sign for again. In truth, you were so caught up and focused on trying to see the mental energy expended between them as a tangible, physical thing that you had totally missed what he had signed. He signs it again, but you still don’t understand as you thrust your outstretched fingers into the palm of your opposite hand. Again. He signs it again, patiently, just a few simple signs, but for some reason it’s not working its way into your brain as a coherent thought.

               “What’s he saying?” Kylo Ren demands. You glance at him for a brief moment and look back to Taro, who repeats the phrase.

               “I, uh,” you stammer. You can feel Kylo Ren growing impatient, but you don’t understand what Taro is trying to say, you just don’t. The words are simple enough. You turn to Sadie in a panic, your eyes wide and desperate. Help me. What is he saying?

               Sadie sits forward a bit in her chair and gestures with her hand for Taro to sign it again. He does so and she bites her lip before looking at you and then back to Kylo Ren. “I think I have it right,” she whispers as she looks at you nervously.

               “What?” Kylo Ren demands. He gets to his feet, and you immediately thrust your arm out in front of Sadie in a reflexive, defensive gesture, ready to throw yourself between them if he were to approach.

               She glances at him nervously, then back at you. But she’s looking at you, really looking, as if seeing you for the first time. “He says you’re Force-sensitive,” she tells you quietly.

               You blink at her.

               Kylo Ren storms out of the room.