#back in my day lightsaber hacked people to pieces

[short-wooloo]

I had a chat with my brother about the fight with the night troopers in ahsoka and he pointed something out to me

It's really stupid how the characters just avoid dismembering and/or decapitating the troopers, because that's how you're supposed to stop zombies, you go for the heads and/or render them immobile

"Ha ha zombie! I slashed you across the chest! What're you gonna do now? OW! FUCK! THEY'RE BITING ME!"

It's pretty obvious that going forward all disposable minion bad guys in SW will have to be droids because disney won't let up on their "no cutting people up" internal rule, because apparently we can't even hack apart the undead, but what's the point of zombies if you can't dismember them without a thought? Zombies remove the ethical concerns of mass slaughtering bad guy minions

Y'know say what you will about it, but Rey and Kylo vs the Praetorian guards actually felt brutal in the way lightsaber combat should be, people got thrown in an electric shredder, the top half of one guy's head was cut off, throats were slit, a lightsaber was shoved into someone's face, and when Rey/Kylo stabbed a guy they really drove the saber in, like rewatch it, you clearly see them putting effort to drive their sabers through the guards

[nekasu]

SnapCube’s Until Dawn Real-Time Fandub Sentence Starters (Part 1)

"I didn't bring my phone. It was in my other pants!" "This is a really long high five." "...I won't tell anyone about this." "Ya see, that's a joke thinger." "Can you see me? Don't answer that." "Who talks to screens? Maybe you can." "We're here in a strange time at a strange place." "Hopefully you enjoyed whatever the hell THIS video was." "When those girls died? That was funny." "My phone still has battery? Holy shit, I gotta keep that warm." "I'm trying to get like 100% on Animal Crossing." "Check it out, I have this gun. It's really really cool." "Are you McCree from Overwatch, hit video game?" "Make sure you don't shoot any guys with that." "Never mind, I do have the key. I just found it in my pocket." "We're all just really good beans at the end of the day." "Why did you hit me? That hurt so much!" "Sorry, I've been in jail a while." "My arm really hurts. Do you have any first aid?" "I just got off the big train in the sky." "This is my Smash invitation and frankly, I deserve it." "It was gonna be a surprise for your birthday, motherfucker!" "Jesus, everyone is so rude. What is this, Rude Mountain?" "This mountain fucking sucks." "I'm here to be rude to people." "I think this is sus. He's definitely the impostor." "As a gamer, I know all about Among Us." "Is this...Tamriel?" "Well, that's a cliff." "No, you got arms!" "I don't speak corn." "Grab my stinky hand!" "I will live on in the vibes!" "No, that's too fast! Oh, god!" "2x4? You're not even a 1x1." "You look so stupid right now." "Hehe, I'm under the bed now!" "It was for a prank video. Come on!" "It's fine, honestly. She has a blanket." "Women never listen to me when I talk..." "Everything's a big deal when you make it." "Oh my god she has pants! What the fuck?!" "No one told me I was wearing pants today!" "It's pretty cold because it's DEAD of winter!" "Hey, tree! Look at me, I'm looming right now!" "Not a blanket, but maybe I can keep you warm." "This fuckin' candle doesn't keep me warm at all.” "At least you're not calling it 'arm pants' this time." "Oh, wow! SHE'S looming! Oh, she can teach me!" "I don't want to play any of your Among Us games." "I have this weird feeling someone's looming around here." "Answer a question for me: how are you feeling today? YEAH!" "Well now, wise guy. Let's see who among us really is the funniest." "Helloooo there! I am Doctor Rabbit. The world's only rabbit rabbit." "Whoa, that guy was straight up looming! I wish I could loom like that.” "Was that that Anus Unnus guy?" "Hey, babe, you wanna go and record a blog with me?" "So are my pranks as good as Markiplier?" "Wait, when did they get the hugging perk?!" "See, that's what I think of your problems, is that they're just some sort of joke." "Got in real trouble with the locals, I did. They don't let me back there." "Maybe you're just trying to be woke or something." "Your insurance isn't covering these sessions, by the way." "We can send, like, aura to each other. You know like, uh, vibes." "I don't guess, I know. I never guess, I know everything. I do the math." "Two plus two equals you're my friend. Just kidding, it's four." "I just hurt all of my bones." "High five? No, you're too far away. My bad." "Did you solve my wolverine puzzle?" "Did you know doors hurt?" "Everyone has a raccoon!" "Why don't you keep it to yourself, tough guy?" "Save the fight until I have the camera ready, okay?" "That's not a view, that's a snow." "I think you're in the corridor of the monkey." "If you throw that me, I'm gonna fuckin' flip my goddamn lid." "You want some snow, bitch?!" "Lady? Girl? ...I should really learn her name." "Water's looking a little green, that's just the way I like it." "Did the ghosts take my friends again?" "I'm actually half ghost." "Is that a lightsaber? Like from Star Trek?" "I'm gonna level with you, I hate being in the same room as you." "BOOOOOOOOOOOK!" "You like the new office? I fuckin' don't." "You didn't read through the contract, did you kiddo?" "I can get fucked? Finally!" "Even the ghost agrees." "I should have fucking known. This ghost is such a libro." "That's great and all, but I'm gonna look like a jackass!" "This is what happens when you pull mean pranks. God punishes an elk." "THAT was a HEALING spell?! Oh god!" "Door key? You're pretty dorky!" "I can imagine a lot of dipshits, in fact." "Get un-naked! Get un-naked! Get un-naked! Get un-naked!" "I'm casting a hex on you now. Have fun getting hexed, idiot." "See? The Kinect causes psychic powers." "I can't believe Blue's freakin' clue is on here." "Ugh...I freaking hate doors." "Blue save me..." "Telling them the vibes made you do it won't hold up in a court of law." "Oh, would you look at the time. It's time for me to rip you a new one again!" "I cannot wait, but I suppose I'll have to." "The hex worked great. Now let's see if I can go shoot what remains of her." "I love running through the forest like a fucking weirdo." "You look like an idiot on the ground there." "If I have anything to say about it, you won't make it back." "I wanna see you, whatever you are, you funny-looking fellow." "Why do I have so much trouble with doors?" "Hey, funny voice! Fuck off, please!" "It's a saw trap, you dumb piece of shit!"

"Seems mysterious, but I won't shoot him this time. Gotta weaken him with the hex." "You're gonna get fucked if you can't say goodbye to a ghost. Trust me on that one." "Hey, uh, do you wanna stop having trouble with doors, now'd be a phantasmical time!" "Unless you want to work with me here, well...we're gonna be stuck here until dawn." "Not like you've ever done anything on purpose in your entire life, you fucking hack." "What, not even a goddamn laugh? Oh, it's gonna be a rough fuckin' couple weeks." "I can't believe I made it up to Rude Mountain only to be discovered by rude people." "I've got all my gamerscore on my phone, so I'm hoping that nobody really touched it.” "That's pretty cringe of you, buddy. I'm gonna put you in my Cringe Tuesday compilation." "If I wanted to talk about beans, I'd hang around with the fuckin' Among Us crew down there." "You know what? I have two arms, so I guess I CAN carry both of them at the same time." "I just got my lips unstuck. Aw, geez. I've been trying to talk to you guys this whole time."  "I left some beans in my backpack. They might be a few years old, but they don't really expire." "I should've known that coming to Rude Mountain would have made you worse as a person." "I've just been playing a lot of Among Us recently and I've just been trying to really get good at lying. "Oh, so NOW you're a funny guy, huh? You think you got your own jokes?! Ya think this is stand up?!" "I have blankets in the back, but I'm gonna go to the front just to see if I can spice things up a little." "I'm here to help you, and whaddya do? You spit in my goddamn face! ...Metaphorically, of course.” "What do you take me for, some kind of clown?! Some kind of Boo Boo the Fool that ain't done this rodeo before?!" "Here at therapy we're here to answer the one big burning question everyone's got: what the FUCK is wrong with you?" "I noticed you don't have much of a sense of humor. That might explain all the shit you've gotten into recently, wouldn't it?" "Well with my ten step plan I'll be happy to go plumb the depths of your sad, scared little mind and see what makes you...tick, as it were."

[teagrl]

Yay Burn Up My Heels is done. Oh no, Frangi why so many loose ends aaaaaarghhh.

Zombie author here will provide some notes on my ending, but as always the fic stands or doesn’t by itself. Whoever reads is the final arbiter. The fic is posted! I, as the author, am DEAD.

So leaving loose ends is my MO and I've stopped apologizing for it. I bind my stories thematically which means they don't necessarily have closed endings. But they do conclude the specific plot in motion. Burn's A-plot was always bringing the lightsaber back, it's B-plot was Mara's coming of age -- told as a romance (as much as Stone’s was a coming of age told as a captivity narrative, and Citadel was a straight-up gothic, I have written about coming of age here and here). She gets on a path to self actualization through discovering her affinity with someone who, on paper, is nothing like her (by virtue of being a colonial streetwalker etc). Ultimately, her abandonment issues come to play making it so she chooses loyalty above herself, but she returns to the Empire with a goal of making things better which of course blows up in her face. The end for Mara is her worst nightmare come to pass being cut loose from her master, the Empire, being tarred as a criminal, tortured and slated for execution. Oh nooooo.

Have we forgotten that the Empire is a piece of shit? That Mara ultimately doesn't mean anything to the Emperor? He doesn't even set out to hurt her in how I think of the final events, he just point blank doesn't give a shit and lets ISB have their way with her. It's very cruel, but this gets her out of the Empire pretty quick in her tenure (she's 18-19 tops), a good three-four years before canon.

Now what's going on with Luke? The key to that is actually in the dialog our pov imperial overhears:

"It's not really bounty hunting. More like being in the know. It's like that thing the small-time organizations do now," the ensign was saying, loud enough for Ventfor to hear several paces away. "Say Black Sun wants Crymorah middle management out of their hair. But the Crymorah know, they've been enemies for a long time, so there's no element of surprise, right? That's where the little guys come in—unaffiliated small-timers. No one knows them, so they keep their head down, keep their ears open. One day they surprise the vigo, grab him for the big timers. They don't kill him, though. They comm it in -- for a price."

[...]

"They make sure the vigo is easy prey. They cripple him," the ensign continued. "Leave him limping in a dark alley or something," he laughed. "Big-timers want the bastard dead, right? They want to send a message, want the bragging rights for the kill shot, the turf, what's in his pockets -- but without the risk of the other guy getting the drop on them. So these small-time players, they eat the risk without the bragging rights, without the fame. It's not direct, see? They're not the ones pulling the trigger. That's one of the ways they keep a low profile, make their credits, and get those who know not to fuck with--"

Sub in Black Sun and Crymorah for the Empire and Son-Tuul and that describes what Luke’s group is going. They crippled the Star Destroyer then called it in so the Son Tuul could get their payback (Mara mentions Vader destroyed the Son Tuul’s HQ in the transcript that opens the chapter, this is a comics easter egg) .

And if oh any of this sounds like information brokering with a kick (lol literally?), then that’s kind of funny, no?

In Ch 30 Luke had seemed quite interested in the fact that Force users could find locations (Mara finding the Hand of Judgement is in Choices of One):

“I don’t know. They just disappeared. Last time I worked with [LaRone and his men] I had to use the Force to find them --”

He leaned forward slightly, expression shifting to curiosity but no less intense. “Wait. Using the Force? Like the -- the healing? How?”

She waved a hand. “It’s hard to explain, you just kind of focus on what you want to find -- anyway, I tried to look into ISB -- the Imperial Security Bureau to see where I could lodge an appeal on their behalf, but I didn't get too far.”

It’s been six months since this. Luke’s obviously kept very very busy and there’s been a lot of Force-ish stuff going on between the lines among both of them (in VotF it’s mentioned how Luke and Mara were always kind of sensible to each other --that regardless of the bond they had been in tune sort of, this fic takes up that idea on the dl. As they grow closer Mara feels what Luke feels more strongly, by the end she has his nightmare). Is he a Jedi like the Imperials are freaking out about? Did they witness some Mandalorian-style hallway throwdown? LOL NO. But they did see that lightsaber batting bolts and hacking down people left and right, which is sufficient to raise the alarm and have them send the footage to Coruscant. So oooh what does this meaaaaan-- safe to say Luke and Mara won’t be under the radar for that long.

Why the stylistic change?

I decided to do a transcript because I felt a full-on interrogation from Mara’s pov was unnecessary. I tend to think these kinds of scenes are kind of gratuitous when written blow by blow. In Ricochet, I showed the beginning of one and then cut. Here I liked the depersonalizing effect of having the transcript erase her name and communicating the interviewer’s contempt through tone as well as Mara’s own state through the way her speech becomes more fragmented before she tries to marshal herself together to voice the injustice of what she’s being put through (as best she can in her situation).

As for the Imperial pov, as I mentioned in a comment, canon is SATURATED with breakout scenes. I based this one heavily on ANH, DFR, and Lords of the Sith (though that one wasn’t a breakout as much as a break in). To do something a little different, I thought Imperial pov could give me some interesting beats. I love ending with a female voice on the comm making a kind of sexualized threat (“You’re looking a little...lonely. Maybe we can help”) that ties into the thematics of the fic at large. Why yes, my faves were very, very lonely and while hardly getting a hearts and flowers ending, they’re certainly not lonely now, which is my conclusion to the B-plot.

B-plot-wise I’m back in my own terrain. For several years now I’ve been writing about a girl, her imperial conditioning, and the boy who adamantly refuses to give up on her. I still think it’s a compelling story to tell. Thank you thank you thank you again to all who have joined me!

[thesummerstorms]

Rev Recaps Hard Contact (Chapter 10)

CW: murder, death in combat,slightly graphic descriptions of corpses

TL:DR Recap: Etain and Dar go to one of Jinart’s safehouses and are immediately betrayed, which yet again, kind of justifies Etain’s paranoia. Darman kills a man, which perturbs Etain. Omega steals mining equipment and accidentally captures Guta-Nay. Hokan is pissed that Dar and Etain got away, and reveals that Jinart literally murdered the collaborators and tore them to pieces.

unfortunately, after posting the last recap I saw two Kal mentions in Chapter 9 that I missed, so we’re starting at a Kal count of 18.

Beginning Kal Count: 18 Ending Kal Count: 19

I regret to inform you I missed TWO references from Niner about Kal in chapter 9, so we’re starting at a Kal Count of 18.

I won’t screenshot the opening quote, but it’s basically a notice to the farmers on Qiilura that anyone who has Republic soldiers on their land without knowing will be sold into slavery and anyone helping the Republic on purpose will be shot. It does provide some needed framework for the rest of the chapter. Then we open in Darman’s pov, and IDK, I just kind of like the opening line. He still thinks of Kamino as “home” apparently at this point in time.

Etain is still being kind of unfairly snarky, and Darman’s at a loss what to do about it.

“Darman took is as a sensible observation rather than an insult.” Etain isn’t really being great right now, I recognize that, but I still love that line.

Anyway, they stop at the first safehouse and Etain goes to knock. Darman hates feeling obvious and exposed, and compares his lack of ability to blend in to, you guessed it, Skirata.

Kal Count raised to 19, BUT so far I think that’s the only one in this chapter.

Anyway, the house is empty; the family fled in the middle of a meal. Darman is still overly cautious, and walks Etain through house clearing procedure, even though her Force-sense tells her it’s safe. He points out that she can’t sense a tripwire that would murder them, even though Jedi Danger Sense is an established thing in the EU by this point and-

Sorry.

He also redirects her when she’s peering over his shoulder into the pantry instead of standing guard at the door and watching their gear, although he’s gracious enough to admit it had probably never occurred to her with Jedi senses.  While he raids said pantry with the intent to test the food for toxins later, she goes to fill bottles of water from a pump outside, and he asks why she isn’t using a filter. Again, we were just giving Etain shit a few chapters ago for being too paranoid and now she’s asking if he was trained by Nemoidians, but honestly I’m feeling kinder to Dar than Jinart because it really is a culture clash.

Yet again, I wonder how the Kaminoans can afford to kill that many clones out right when each clone is such an investment to rain and train in terms of both input and time. 

Darman doesn’t know what to make of a Jedi who isn’t the perfect demigod he was promised, which is affecting his trust levels. And Etain hasn’t been helping a lot with that. But she does notice something is wrong with him; she just doesn’t know him well yet, so she assumes it has something to do with his physical injury.

They eventually make it to another safe house, when they meet a woman “with a face like a gdan”, several children, and a few other adults. Dar is briefly overwhelmed because it’s the first time he’s seen this many humans who aren’t clones. I guess the commandos never saw their Sergeants group up.

Darman places mines all around the entrance to the building before he goes in, which I’m sure would win him no love even if the farmers weren’t already under threat of execution or slavery. The family at the safehouse says very little, outside of one woman who wants to know how the Republic is better than the Nemoidians, but they do attempt to feed Dar and Etain, which I have to say, is generous for the kind of place they’re living in. Or would be, if the family weren’t planning to sell them out & use the food as a distraction.

Dar, honey, she’s going to be able to read you in the Force better than anyone else in the galaxy by the time this is over and you’ll like it, so you might as well just buckle up. 

Also, clones are able of discerning thoughts/behavior patterns/moods really easily through minute observation and there’s nothing ruling out Etain doing the same her, but I guess it makes sense he jumps to mind reading the way the Kaminoans built up the Jedi.

Lots of little thoughts here. There’s post to be made based on a conversation I had with rey-skywalkin-away about Etain and food that I’ll save for another day, but for now, let me just say as much as KT tries to present Etain as a picky/snobbish eater, lemme just say that I don’t blame Etain in the least for being suspicious when the last stew Jinart tried to serve her included grains literally picked out of the manure on Etain’s cloak. Also, it’s still kind of sweet that Darman notices she isn’t eating enough and immediately offers her his bread, even though he’s in heaven getting “real” food. It’s generous. 

But good things never last, and Etain pretty much immediately is warned by the Force that someone is approaching unexpectedly. Darman flips out and the family immediately flees, which only confirms his suspicion. Dar and Etain brace for combat, while Etain uses Force-sense to pinpoint the incoming enemy forces. It’s actually kind of a great little action scene for the two of them.

“She put her lips so close to his ear he jumped.” Idk, I just giggled at that.

It’s just kind of a great little moment, getting to actually see Etain use her Force skills competently in an action scene. But of course, it immediately devolved. Darman, being raised to be a soldier, kills the one surviving Separatist, who’s injured on the floor. Etain, being raised a Jedi, doesn’t understand. Again, it’s a culture clash, but given the military focus of the books, we know who the narrative thinks is right.

I STILL WANT TO KNOW... who the hell were the clones supposed to be killing on Kamino? I can’t imagine the Kaminoans would let the clones kill even “worthless” Kaminoans, for fear of the armies they were raising getting ideas. I suppose Jango could have snuck back a bounty that was supposed to be dead every now and then, but that wouldn’t be a lot of people for training with 3,000,000 men. 

Also, Darman literally had his freak out over killing people on page 56 of this same, book, so it comes off as a tad hypocritical, even though this isn’t the last time he’ll not understand what Etain is upset about wrt killing.

Anyway, Darman is shot in the shoulder, though it’s a minor wound, they’re now on the run with no “safe houses” to hide in, and at the end of this scene, when Darman asks if Etain can sense droids, we find out she can’t when a droid starts shooting at them.

We then skip to Niner and Atin and Fi raiding a quarry for droids/explosives/equipment. I’m not gonna lie, I could care less about the plot of this section. This is my third time reading it and I’m still fuzzy on it. But it has a few fun little moments:

Atin is tricky. Also, I’m pretty sure that if this wasn’t a Star Wars book,that line would say “pants-shittingly nervous” rather than “drink-spilling”. With the facility seemingly cleared out, Niner and Atin go in to loot it, and we build some more on the “Atin is the tech guy” thing.

Except the guard shack isn’t empty. Guta-Nay (again, the would be rapist) has been hiding there, since Hokan wants him dead. Guta-Nay tries offering various bits of information if Niner will keep him alive, and KT really, really leans in to the whole “to stupid to function” thing, which is still making me uncomfortable, but comes to a head a few chapters from now. Eventually, Niner concedes that they’ll take Guta-Nay prisoner rather than kill him. Atin is displeased, but starts leveraging it to try and find a technical solution to one of their other problems.

Niner, you should absolutely keep thinking mean thoughts about Vau.

Atin hacks some droids, and they’re going to use them to move the mining charges and smuggle them into the places that need to be blown up, including the Nemodian comm relay in Tekklet. Atin still does not like Guta-Nay.

And then one bit that really makes this scene:

Tiny bit of foreshadowing for Triple Zero and True Colors. GREAT moment of Fi’s typical sass. “Don’t stand there being so ugly, man. You’re scaring him.”

We then close the chapter with Hokan being pissed that Darman and Etain escaped. I’m not going to spend too much time on it, because it’s mostly Hokan yelling at his subordinates.

Things that are of note,  with a CW for a graphic description of mutilation of corpses: this is what Jinart went and did to the collaborators.

As negatively as Traviss paints them, I actually feel really bad for the farmers in this book. She’s not much sympathetic to them, and she explicitly goes out of her way to show why you’d be stupid to sympathize with them, but on the one hand you have the Separatists and Hokan torching these people’s land, selling them into slavery, and executing them. On the other... you have Jinart. 

On top of which, they’re literally starving because of the Nemodian’s financial control of their lives. They don’t even have 21st century plumbing, in Star Wars. Whatever point Traviss thinks she’s making about unworthy civilian/local populations, it rings kind of hollow in the face of that information, because I can understand exactly why the NPCs act the way they do, even if they’re technically in opposition to our protagonists.

Anyway, Hokan pulls all droids out of Tekklet, where the comm is, to guard Uthan’s facility. He tells his men he wants either Darman or Etain alive, especially if Etain is a Jedi. Preferably both of them. Again, remember, he tortured Kast Fulier to death with Fulier’s own lightsaber, so remember what we’re working with here.

And that’s where the scene ends.

[24stiles920]

The Fox and the Wolf

Teen Wolf Rewrite

Pairing: Stiles x Reader

Warnings: Ages 16+, swearing,

Words: 4883

A/N: Sorry about the wait—again—but I’m finding myself busy pretty often lately between school and working on other projects. I hope you enjoy this episode, even if Stiles isn’t in it. We’ll see him next time! Don’t forget to reblog so other people can enjoy my content. Xx.

Link to Masterlist on profile!

I watched Kira’s face as she stared down at the old picture in her hand. Malia Tate—the werecoyote that we had turned back into a girl—had brought Scott and I the photograph and a katana, telling us that she and Stiles had found them with a dead body in the basement of Eichen House before Stiles was once again possessed by the Nogitsune. The photograph was of a young couple; the man was in an army officer’s uniform and the woman was wearing a dress that was surely in style when the picture was taken. The odd thing about the picture? The young woman looked just like Kira.

Which is why Scott and I met up with Kira to see what she thought about it. I liked Kira, but I wasn’t sure that we could totally trust her yet—especially if everything kept coming back to her.

“This looks just like me,” Kira stated, looking at the photograph intently. She flipped the photograph over to reveal the date marked 1943. “This has to be my grandmother.”

“Do you remember when I told you about Malia?” Scott said, sitting next to Kira on the foot of her bed.

Kira nodded, looking down at the picture again.

“She’s the last one who saw Stiles at Eichen House,” I spoke up.

“This picture and this—” Scott grabbed the katana and held it up so that Kira could see it. “—they found it with a body buried in a wall.”

“The same backward five that the Oni put on all of us was on the wall,” I informed her, crossing my arms over my chest.

“It sounds like it all goes back to your family,” Scott added, his voice cautious. “Your grandmother, your mom…”

Kira narrowed her eyes as she looked back at the picture. She opened her mouth to say something, but her phone buzzed loudly from beside her. She picked up her brightly-colored phone and glanced at the screen, her eyes widening in horror.

“What is it?” Scott queried.

“My dad.”

Kira stood up and hurriedly called her mother, talking rapidly on the phone. Scott and I exchanged confused looks as Kira paced back and forth across the length of her bedroom, biting her nails nervously.

As Kira got off the phone, Kira quickly explained what was happening. Apparently, the Nogitsune showed up in her dad’s classroom looking for something and ended up poisoning him. Her explanation was very confusing, but we didn’t have time for her to clarify; Kira was to go to her mother’s medicine cabinet and get a specific jar and bring it to the school.

Within ten minutes I was pulling into the parking lot. Scott, Kira, and I hopped out of my Jeep and raced to the school. Scott and Kira, who was carrying the katana, got to the doors first and pushed them open violently, running through the hallway to Mr. Yukimura’s classroom.

When we entered the history room, Mr. Yukimura was collapsed on the ground by his desk, coughing profusely, with Mrs. Yukimura crouching beside him, rubbing his back and looking on worriedly. She glanced up when the three of us entered the room.

“Kira, did you bring it?” Mrs. Yukimura asked with a sense of urgency.

Kira nodded, kneeled on the floor in front of her father, and handed the small, opaque jar to Mrs. Yukimura.

“Are you going to tell me what it is?” Kira asked her mother.

Mrs. Yukimura grabbed the jar and opened it. “Reishi,” she said, emptying the jar into her hand.

“You’re not seriously giving Dad magic mushrooms, are you?” Kira asked in disbelief.

Mrs. Yukimura shot Kira a hard look and carefully shoved the Reishi into Mr. Yukimura’s mouth. Mr. Yukimura chewed it obediently and started coughing more severely. Kira’s mom handed her husband a napkin and he pressed it to his mouth, hacking wetly into it.

I cringed as he pulled the napkin away, revealing a liquid that looked like black ink splattered across it.

“Are you okay?” Mrs. Yukimura asked her husband, slowly helping him up from the floor. Mr. Yukimura nodded shakily, taking a seat on the edge of his desk, and taking a deep breath.

“Stiles did this?” Scott asked hesitantly.

Mrs. Yukimura turned her head sharply, facing Scott and I. “He wanted the last kaiken,” she said, holding up a black knife with a slim handle. “I’ve kept this near me ever since your friend disappeared.”

I bit my lip and exchanged looks with Scott. I really didn’t know if I liked Kira’s mom at all at this point.

“Mom,” Kira said, her voice stern. “You need to talk to us, about everything.”

Mr. Yukimura glanced gravely at his wife, while she nodded once. I reached into my cross-body bag and pulled out the photograph of Kira’s look-alike and the army officer. I held it up so that Mrs. Yukimura could see it properly.

Mrs. Yukimura’s eyes widened and her jaw went slack as she took the photograph from me. She held it up and glanced over it.

“Where did you get this?” She asked sharply, not taking her eyes off the photograph.

“Is it Grandma?” Kira wondered, eyeing her mother intently.

“No,” Mrs. Yukimura denied. “It’s me.”

My eyes widened in shock as I looked from the photograph to Mrs. Yukimura. She didn’t look the same as in the picture, but she didn’t look a day over thirty-five. She would have to be around ninety years old if her claim was true.

“If that’s you, then you’d have to be, like, ninety years old,” I said weakly.

Mrs. Yukimura glanced at me. “Closer to nine hundred,” she admitted, looking over at Kira.

Kira inhaled deeply and shook her head slightly. “Okay, sure,” she breathed. “Why not? Dad, how old are you?”

Mr. Yukimura locked eyes with Kira. “Forty-three,” he told her, his lips quirking a little. “But I’ve been told I look mid-thirties.”

Kira scoffed slightly and looked back to Mrs. Yukimura. She slowly raised up her arm and held out the katana for her mother to take it. Mrs. Yukimura grabbed the sword and walked over to the desk, holding it over the surface. She jerked the cover off of it, and to my surprise, the blade wasn’t whole. Many silver pieces dropped onto the desk, clinking lightly.

“The blade was shattered the last time it was used,” Mrs. Yukimura informed us.

“When was that?” Kira wondered, looking at her mother intently.

“1943,” Mrs. Yukimura answered, turning to Kira. “Against a Nogitsune.”

“All this—it’s all happened before, hasn’t it?” Scott assumed, his voice raised slightly.

Mrs. Yukimura glanced at Scott distrustfully. “Yes.”

“Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it,” Mr. Yukimura quoted George Santayana knowledgeably. I had heard the quote many times in many different history classes to remember it.

My phone vibrated then, buzzing loudly and cutting Kira off from whatever she was going to say.

“Sorry,” I muttered, grabbing my phone from my purse and glancing at it.

It was Noah; he requested my presence at the police station as soon as possible.

“I have to go,” I said, glancing at Scott. “Fill me in later?”

“Of course,” Scott nodded, giving me a small smile.

I reached down and took his hand and squeezed it quickly before pulling away. I nodded goodbye to the Yukimura family and turned around, leaving the classroom and school.

-

Ten minutes later I walked into the police station. I waved to the deputy at the reception desk and made my way to the back. To my shock, Mr. Argent and Derek were standing in front of Deputy Parrish’s desk; there were multiple weapons spread out on the surface.

“Are they finally letting you two out?” I asked, announcing my presence, as I walked up to the two men.

Derek glanced at me and nodded, crossing his muscular arms over his chest, while Mr. Argent sighed.

“Hi, Y/N,” he greeted, giving me a small smile. “We’re just waiting for everything to check out.”

He glanced pointedly at Deputy Parrish as he finished his sentence.

Deputy Parrish pursed his lips and picked up a black electric baton, snapping it open.

“Sorry, but I can’t let you walk out with this,” The young deputy told Mr. Argent. “It’s way above the legal voltage limit.”

“I only use it for hunting,” Mr. Argent said as he grabbed his wallet from the desk and shoved it into his pocket.

Derek glared over at Mr. Argent, narrowing his eyes pointedly.

“Yeah, well, I’m pretty sure you could use it to jump-start a 747,” Deputy Parrish retorted, looking over the baton.

“This property belongs to me and the charges were dropped,” Mr. Argent said firmly. He faltered and looked over at Derek, adding, “Although, I’m not exactly sure who’s responsible for that.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Noah making his way over to us. I waved slightly at him and he nodded at me, a sad glint in his eyes. He stopped by Mr. Argent’s side.

“I am,” He said, glancing at Mr. Argent and Derek. “I’ll take care of this, Parrish.”

Deputy Parrish leaned slightly toward Noah and lowered his voice, as though Mr. Argent, Derek, and I weren’t going to hear everything he said. “Sheriff, I’m not kidding,” he said. “This thing’s a few watts from being a lightsaber.”

I bit my lip, trying not to laugh. Stiles would have gotten a kick out of Deputy Parrish’s words. He was such a Star Wars nerd any mention of it would have him lighting up like it was Christmas morning.

Noah rolled his eyes and took the electric baton from Deputy Parrish. “I said I’ll take care of it,” he said sternly, snapping the weapon closed.

Deputy Parrish nodded and stepped away from his desk. Noah waited until he was far enough away before turning to Mr. Argent, Derek, and I.

“Come into my office,” Noah said, nodding toward his newly-built office.

I followed the three men into the office and stood between the werewolf and the hunter as Noah walked behind his desk. He set the baton on the desk and tapped what looked to be brain scans.

“The specialist I saw in L.A. told me the thing that every doctor says when he’s trying to avoid a lawsuit…’We can’t say for sure’,” Noah picked up the brain scans off the desk and continued, “And then I spoke with Melissa. These are brain scans—” he showed us two separate scans and handed them to Mr. Argent. “My wife’s and Stiles’.”

Mr. Argent looked at each scan separately—Derek and I peeked over at them, too—and then stacked them on top of one another. The two scans lined up perfectly, as though they were just copies of the same thing.

“I knew they were similar,” Noah continued, sighing. He pointed at the scans and said, “But those are the same. Exactly the same.”

I sighed, partially relieved. It wasn’t medically possible for Stiles and Claudia to have the same exact scans. That meant that Stiles didn’t have Frontotemporal Dementia—it meant that the Nogitsune was playing games.

I was relieved that Stiles didn’t have the same disease that his mother had, but at the same time, I knew that whatever the Nogitsune was trying to pull wasn’t good. Also, the disease could’ve possibly gone away if Scott had bitten Stiles… We hadn’t even figured out a way to exorcise the Nogitsune from Stiles yet…

“I’m guessing this isn’t possible,” Derek commented, crossing his arms over his chest and glancing at Noah.

“Not even remotely,” I spoke up quietly, shaking my head.

“So the trickster is still playing tricks,” Mr. Argent said roughly, plopping the brain scans back on Noah’s desk.

Derek sighed thoughtfully. “But why this trick?”

“When I was in the Army, an officer told me, ‘If you want to defeat your enemy, you don’t take away their courage. You take away their hope.’” Noah informed us.

“You don’t look like a man who gives up hope easily,” Mr. Argent observed, staring at Noah.

“But Stiles might,” I said, frowning deeply.

Noah nodded. “She’s right,” he agreed. “If this thing inside of him, if it’s using his mother’s disease as some sort of psychological trick, then this isn’t just a fight for his body. It’s also a fight for his mind, right?”

“You know, he’s left people severely injured,” Mr. Argent pointed out solemnly.

“And others severely dead,” Derek added just as gravely, glancing over at Mr. Argent.

Noah sighed and shook his head, looking torn. “That’s why I need the two of you,” he said. “I need people who are experienced in this kind of thing. I need you to help me stop him.”

I pressed my lips together, suddenly overcome with emotion. I knew that Noah meant that he wanted to trap the Nogitsune and not kill Stiles in the process. But I couldn’t help but be apprehensive. I knew that Mr. Argent wouldn’t stop at trapping the Nogitsune, not if it meant protecting innocent lives. And to him, that meant killing Stiles.

I remembered what Stiles had told Scott before he was admitted into Eichen House. He told Scott to make sure that he never got out—it was because Stiles didn’t want to hurt anyone else. Because Stiles was a genuinely good guy who couldn’t bear the thought of someone else getting hurt because of him.

I knew that Stiles didn’t care if he was killed or not in the process of destroying the Nogitsune, but I cared. Stiles was my soulmate, my best friend, and my boyfriend that I loved dearly. I was about to do whatever it took to save him, even if I hurt myself in the process.

“And my stop him, you mean trap him,” Mr. Argent assumed, his deep voice distracting me from my thoughts.

I glanced at Noah, wondering if he was on the same page as me; we’d do whatever to protect Stiles. No matter what. Noah looked back at me for a split second, but I could read him well. We were in this together.

He nodded at Mr. Argent, answering his question. He picked up Mr. Argent’s electric baton and handed it to him. It was as though he was silently saying that he trusted Mr. Argent to help him. Mr. Argent grabbed the baton and nodded, raising his eyebrows.

-

Half an hour later, after Mr. Argent called Allison and told her to gather up all of their non-lethal weapons and place them in his office, I drove Mr. Argent and Derek to the Argent apartment across town. Noah followed after us in his vehicle and parked next to me when we arrived.

Allison met up in the hallway outside the apartment. She gave me a sad smile and a tight hug as a greeting before leading us through her home and to Mr. Argent’s office.

“This is everything non-lethal I could find,” She said, gesturing to the small pile of weapons on Mr. Argent’s desk. There wasn’t a lot gathered, just some rope, chain, zip ties, taser guns, handcuffs, and pepper spray.

Mr. Argent sighed heavily as he looked at the pile. “Take all of it.”

Allison nodded and grabbed two black duffle bags from one of the chairs behind her. She handed one to Derek and kept one for herself before starting to place some of the weapons into the bag.

“What’s the plan here?” Noah asked, glancing at Mr. Argent.

“Our best shot right now is for Derek to try to pick up Stiles’ scent at Eichen House,” Mr. Argent explained, glancing at the werewolf. “Especially if he went through something stressful there.”

“Should all five of us be going through the same place?” Noah asked skeptically, his eyebrows furrowing.

“Where else has Stiles been showing up?” Mr. Argent asked.

“The school,” I listed, remembering the dreaded day the Nogitsune had tricked Ethan, Aiden, Scott, and I into thinking he was Stiles. “The hospital—”

“Okay, hold on,” Derek cut me off before continuing. “We did this already. He disappeared. We started looking for him. Then we walked right into a trap at the hospital.”

“He’s getting us to repeat the same moves,” Mr. Argent realized after a couple of seconds.

Allison nodded. “So, what do we do? Wait for him to come to us?”

“We can’t,” Derek shook his head. “Not if the Oni find him when the sun goes down.”

“Scott’s working on them right now with Kira,” I informed everyone.

“That’s the problem,” Mr. Argent spoke up thoughtfully. “We’re all trying to outfox the fox.”

We all fell silent, feeling the pressure raining down on us. It was up to us to stop the Nogitsune. It was up to us to save Stiles.

“Listen,” Noah started heavily, glancing around at Derek, Allison, Mr. Argent, and I. “I’ll understand if anyone wants to back out.”

I shook my head immediately. “We need to catch the Nogitsune,” I said firmly. “So that everyone and Stiles will be safe.”

“Well, I’m not going to be the first wolf to run from a fox,” Derek said resolutely, grabbing a taser gun and shoving it into his duffle bag.

“Apparently I’m carrying a lightsaber,” Mr. Argent added, looking at Allison.

Allison nodded. “Dad, you and Derek hit Eichen House,” she ordered, shoving the rest of the weapons into her bag. “Sheriff, Y/N, it’s all three of us in the hospital. We all meet in the school.”

Everyone nodded determinately. Allison grabbed the bag and threw it over her shoulder, gesturing for Noah and me to follow her out of the room. The three of us got into my jeep and we headed toward the hospital.

-

Allison, Noah, and I spent an hour searching the basement and first floor of the hospital for any sign of the Nogitsune. We didn’t find anything, and from the updates Allison was getting from her father, Derek and Mr. Argent weren’t finding anything either.

“Come on,” Allison suggested as the three of us met up at the nurse’s station on the first floor after splitting up for a while. “Let’s try the next floors.”

Noah and I agreed and the three of us headed to the elevator at the end of the hall. We entered the elevator and Allison pressed the button for the top floor before stepping back beside me.

Allison sighed deeply as the doors shut and the elevator started moving up slowly. I bit my lip and grabbed her hand, squeezing it tightly. She gave me a thankful look, her eyes watering as she squeezed me back.

“You know what,” Noah spoke up suddenly, shaking his head in disbelief. “I don’t know how you guys do it. You’re all so strong. You’re fearless. Hell, you even manage to keep your grades up.”

Allison shook her head. “I am failing Econ,” she said slowly.

Noah sighed. “Oh. Is that Coach’s class?”

Allison nodded.

“Well, I’ll have a talk with him,” Noah promised her.

Allison’s lips twisted sadly and she sniffed. I watched sadly as she looked up at the ceiling and inhaled a deep, shuddering breath before exhaling sharply. I kept her hand in mine, trying to comfort her.

Noah looked at her, concerned, and stepped forward, reaching for the emergency stop button on the panel of buttons.

“Hey, you okay?” He asked her, concerned.

Allison bit her lip and looked down, her face contorted with sadness. A few tears slipped down her cheeks.

“I’m not…” She paused thoughtfully before continuing in a whisper. “Fearless. I’m terrified.”

Allison pulled her hand from mine and clasped both of her hands together, twisting her fingers nervously. Her voice took on a weepy edge as she continued shakily.

“I’m always terrified,” she cried. “I-I act like I know what I’m doing, but I don’t. I don’t know if Isaac is dying right now—” Allison’s face crumpled in sadness and fear. “—I don’t know if I made a mistake with Scott. I don’t know what my dad is thinking. I don’t know if we should trust Derek. I don’t know—”

She cut herself off with a loud sob, her chest racking with the effort. I bit my lip and pulled her into a tight hug, wrapping my arms around her.

“I don’t know anything,” Allison ducked her head and sobbed into my shoulder.

“It’s going to be all right, Allison,” I said softly, rubbing my hand up and down her back as tears came to my own eyes. “But I get it, okay? I’m terrified, too. I’m scared of what we’re going to find. I’m afraid that there might not be any of Stiles left to save. And I’m petrified that I’ll lose him—”

I let out a soft sob and Allison squeezed me, trying to comfort me like I was trying to comfort her.

“But we have to keep going,” I continued, my chest shuddering with emotion. “Because, like I told Stiles a couple weeks ago, I have hope. And if I don’t have hope that we’ll somehow make it through this mess, then I don’t have anything to hold onto. And I need something to hold onto so I can help save innocent people from being hurt. So I can save Stiles. I have—I have to try.”

“We’ll save him,” Allison muttered encouragingly. “We will.”

Two large arms surrounded both me and Allison and I snickered as I recognized the cologne that Stiles had gifted Noah for Christmas last year.

“You know what’s funny?” Noah murmured, resting his chin on top of my head. “You both sound just like a couple of cops.”

Allison and I broke out into half-hearted giggles at Noah’s words. Noah chuckled too and pulled away from the group hug. I drew away from Allison as well and looked up at my godfather.

“Hey,” He said, smiling down at me and Allison. “You’re both gonna be okay.”

I nodded and wiped the tears that had fallen from my eyes and Allison covered her mouth, sniffling slightly as she agreed silently.

“Okay,” Noah nodded, turning to undo the emergency stop.

Just as he was reaching for the small, red lever, his phone buzzed loudly. Noah huffed, looking confused, and reached into his pants pocket, pulling out his phone. He cocked his head and showed Allison and I the notification that showed up on his screen.

It was an alert from the security system that Noah had installed when Stiles started sleepwalking.

“What’s that?” Allison asked, wiping her tears.

“Someone’s breaking into our house,” Noah answered her, dismissing the notification. He went to his home screen and pressed on the app that went with the security system. “After Stiles started sleepwalking, I had some security precautions put in. Motions sensors, cameras…”

“Is that his room?” Allison wondered as a live video feed of Stiles’ room started.

I gasped in shock as the camera showed Stiles—the Nogitsune—sitting on Stiles’ bed, looking worn out. He faced the camera and smirked, waving sarcastically with his fingers.

“Call your dad,” Noah ordered Allison as the video showed the Nogitsune leaving Stiles’ room. “Call and tell him and Derek to meet us at my house.”

Allison nodded and took out her phone, quickly calling her dad. While she spoke to Mr. Argent, Noah reached and pulled the emergency stop lever to start the elevator up again, and quickly pressed the button for the ground floor.

“They’re on their way,” Allison told Noah and me as she hung up the phone.

The elevator doors opened to the ground floor and we rushed into the hall, trying to get to our vehicle as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, we didn’t have Noah’s sirens in my car, but he, luckily, let me drive five miles over the speed limit to get to the house to see why the Nogitsune had been in Stiles’ room.

Just as I parked in the driveway, Derek’s Toyota FJ Cruiser skidded to a stop at the curb in front of the house. The five of us rushed up to the door, which was unlocked, and entered cautiously.

We didn’t know if the Nogitsune was still in the house or not.

Noah led everyone to Stiles’ room. Like the video feed told us, the Nogitsune was no longer in the room. I looked around, searching for anything out of place that could give us a clue about what the trickster wanted.

I paused at Stiles’ desk and looked closely at the chessboard that was set upon it. Last I remembered, Stiles had put it away when he cleaned his room last. But there it was, chess pieces placed strategically across the board. Small sticky notes with names were pressed to the tops of certain pieces, confusing me.

“Y/N, do you see anything?” Noah asked absentmindedly as he looked over Stiles’ bookshelf.

“Yeah, come here,” I said, waving everyone over to me.

Derek, Allison, Mr. Argent, and Noah approached the chess board and took it in, scanning over the board, the pieces, and the placement of the pieces on the board.

“What is all this?” Mr. Argent asked, looking at me and Noah. “What are these sticky notes for?”

“This is what Y/N and Stiles used to try and explain to me about all of…you,” Noah explained.

Allison studied the board carefully. “Well, maybe it’s a message from Stiles,” she suggested. “The real Stiles.”

Mr. Argent picked up a pawn that was knocked off the board and held it up for everyone to see. The pink sticky note on top of it had a name written in Stiles’ scrawl.

Isaac.

“You think there’s any reason my name’s on the king?” Derek wondered, looking at the chess piece that was situated by the queen.

“Well, you’re heavily guarded,” Noah said, scratching his forehead. “So that could be it.”

“Well, the more alarming detail is that you’re one move from being in checkmate,” I added, looking at Derek seriously. Derek’s eyes widened and he looked back down at the king’s piece.

“It’s not a message from Stiles,” Mr. Argent spoke up firmly. “It’s a threat from the Nogitsune.”

“He’s at the loft,” Allison realized. “That’s what he’s trying to tell us.”

“And he wants us to come there,” Mr. Argent continued.

“Night’s falling,” Derek pointed out.

I bit my lip worriedly.

“This couldn’t sound any more like a trap,” Mr. Argent commented, shaking his head.

“I don’t think it is,” Noah disagreed.

“I think your opinion might be slightly biased, Sheriff,” Mr. Argent replied.

“Hear me out,” Noah begged. We all paused to listen to him. “What we’re dealing with here is basically someone who lacks motive. No rhyme, no reason, right?”

“Meaning what?” Mr. Argent asked.

“Our enemy is not a killer, it’s a trickster,” Noah clarified. “The killing is just a by-product.”

“If you’re trying to say it won’t kill us, I’m not feeling too confident about that,” Derek remarked.

“It won’t. It wants irony,” Noah explained. “It wants to play a trick. It wants a joke. All we need to do is come up with a new punch line.”

“Well, the sun is setting, Sheriff,” Mr. Argent said, glancing at the window where the sky was getting darker, and then back at Noah. “What do you have in mind?”

After coming up with a game plan, I texted Scott to meet us at Derek’s loft. He messaged me right back, informing me that he would be on his way.

Allison and I rode with Derek and her dad to Derek’s loft. On the drive there, Allison handed me a can of pepper spray so that I could defend myself if anything went down between us and the Nogitsune. She reminded me to spray the eyes and I nodded, determined to protect myself.

The five of us arrived at Derek’s building and headed up to his loft. The plan was for Noah and me to go in first and see if the Nogitsune would come with us without a fight. If he refused, Mr. Argent, Derek, and Allison would step in.

“Be careful,” Allison whispered to me, patting my shoulder.

“I will,” I promised her.

I took a deep breath as the werewolf and the hunters hid around the corner. Noah gave me an encouraging look and grabbed the handle of the large door that separated us from Derek’s home.

He slid it open, revealing Stiles’ form. He was standing in the middle of the loft, facing the large, ceiling-high window that showed off the view of the sunset perfectly.

Noah and I exchanged a significant look and nodded at each other. We both stepped forward at the same time, walking further into the loft.

Stiles turned around and observed us carefully.

“Hi, Dad.”

@julzdec @karamelcoveredolicity @thegirlalmighty01 @eat-unicornpoop @belleknows @supernaturallover2002  @dontstopxx @feelingsareharddd @brien-odylan  @shewritesshedraws @dylnobrien1911 @kaleyana @mad-hatter-021 @nikcentric @addietagglikesbands @seninjakitey @shayke-and-bake @southsiderepresent @screamxqueenx94 @lostinwonderland314  @rissa-raeken @caitsymichelle13 @barryallenplease  @dafine18 @loverofwaytoomanythings618 @winchestergirl907 @fightmeandmy100fandoms

*Bold means I cannot tag you*

[jedimordsith]

Because it’s Valentine’s Day, Have the Mandalorian Wedding I Cut From Gift

This is unedited and was summarily hacked from Gift when I cut out/replaced the arc in which Mara makes peace with her mother’s family and accidentally gets adopted by a handful of former Death Squaders. In this version of things, Mara inherited the title of Countess and her cousin Korkie Kryze, ruler of Mandalore insisted that he be allowed to officiate a proper wedding for her.

There was a dais at the center of the hall, ringed by concentric circles of people broken by two aisles directly opposite one another. The outer circle consisted of Alliance and Mandalorian guests, who parted as Luke came through. Luke entered from the left. Passing by the Alliance cohort to the middle ring, he found Rogue Squadron replete in its best service dress, pressed, polished and dripping with gleaming, rarely worn medals of honor. Every one of them wore at least one blaster prominently strapped hip or thigh, and their salutes were crisp as he passed into the inner ring, just at the edge of the dais.

Leia, Han, and Chewbacca waited. Mounting the wide, shallow steps, he stopped on the last one, just off the platform. He had no armor to remove, but took off his service jacket (heavy with his own medals) and handed it to Han. Pulling his blaster from his hip, he handed it to Han as well. Anakin's lightsaber he removed and gave to Chewie; his own, made under Mara's tutelage, he handed to Leia. Last, and with the most reluctance, he removed the wrist holster containing the hold-out blaster Mara had given him and relinquished that to Leia as well. Satisfied that he was unarmed, his family stepped aside and Luke took the final steps onto the dais and into its center to stand before Duke Kryze.

“I enter this place of union unarmored and unarmed, cognizant of my dependence on my clan for my protection and honor.” The Duke nodded affirmation, and they both turned toward the opposite aisle.

Your turn, Jade.

A moment later, Mara appeared, walking with an even, regal stride down the aisle toward him. Her eyes never left him as she approached. One hand went to the long skirt of her halter dress as she mounted the steps, passing first through her Mandoade, bristling with armor and weaponry, then reaching her family. She turned her back to him to face Corran, Mirax, and Madine, and Luke's jaw dropped. He felt ripples of amusement, but ignored them, transfixed by Mara's dress. Or rather the gloriously bare skin of her back where her dress should have been. Satin fell from the halter neckline and dipped deep into the small of her back, baring silky skin, and scars in an unprecedented display.

Nothing left to hide from, Farmboy.

Luke watched, transfixed, as she removed a wicked vibroblade from the top of her boot, a tiny blaster from her thigh, her purple bladed lightsaber, and – as reluctantly as he had – her hold-out blaster. The saber he had made for her, she held out, flat in her palm, toward Korkie.

“In keeping with the tradition of our people, my betrothed gave me this. Made by his own hands of parts precious and hard-won from shared enemies we vanquished together.”

She slid the blood-stone ring from her finger and handed it to Kryze as well. “In accordance with the ways of my father's people, he gave me this as well.”

Kryze examined the pieces solemnly. “You find these gifts, and their giver, acceptable and worthy of you, Mara Jade?”

Mara turned her head, meeting Luke's gaze firmly when she answered. “Yes. I find him worthy.”

Part of Luke sighed with a deep-seated relief, the words a balm to the hidden, wounded part of him that had despaired of ever hearing those words. The failed farm boy, child of a mother who did not live to raise him, the struggling Jedi – in that moment, Mara's limitless acceptance found it wholly healed.

Kryze nodded. “Who speaks for Mara's house?”

“I do,” Corran said, stepped forward.

“Do you also find her betrothed worthy?”

“House Halcyon is honored to bring Mara's beloved into our family. He shall be embraced as son and brother, blood of our blood, with pride and without reservation.”

“Who speaks for Luke's house?”

Leia stepped forward, alongside her brother. “I do.”

“Do you find his betrothed worthy?”

Luke felt Leia draw up her courage, but when she spoke her voice was clear and calm. “House Skywalker considers Mara one of our own already. We have shed our blood together, and will continue to love her with pride and without reservation.”

Leia felt her brother's startled gaze flick to her face, and felt the rush of emotion from him in the Force. Felt him staggered that she would, for him, align herself with the Skywalker name and all it carried with it in this moment. She smiled at him slightly before stepping back.

“Then it is time for the vows. Take note of where you stand, betrothed. Engrave it in your hearts as you do the Mand, for, within it, you will find everything you must know to meet the future with courage and honor. House Skywalker, begin.”

“You stand together,” Leia said, her voice clear and strong. “United in purpose. So should you face every day, until death takes you.”

“You stand unarmed and unarmored,” Mara’s Vod intoned next, as one. “Seeking neither to hide nor hurt - only to be, just as you are. So should you face one another every day, until death takes you.”

Corran stepped forward. “You stand among your kin, sharing your strength with us as we share ours with you. Whatever the future brings, Jorso'ran kando a tome - we shall bear its weight together.) So should all remain, until death takes us.”

Korkie lifted a hand. “With these truths held close to your hearts, you may speak your vows.” Mara reached out, taking Luke’s offered hands and clasping them tightly in her own. “Luke. Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde - and Jedi.”

“Mara, my heart.” It wasn’t part of the plan, but he lifted her fingers to his lips, needing a moment to gather his composure. “We are one when together, we are one when parted. We will share all. We will raise warriors and Jedi. Until death takes us. Together.”

[elementarypolitics]

The Joke of Phoenix Comicfest...

Phoenix Comic Fest* has decided to up the ante from last year and just blatantly say “fuck you fans, we don’t care about you.” So, a quick recap of last year’s insanity. Some lunatic came in with a slew of weapons with the goal of killing the actor who played the Green Power Ranger. Because even at its most lax, Phoenix PD and convention security aren’t unspeakably incompetent, the lunatic didn’t make it very far…but while the powers that be aren’t unspeakably incompetent, they are incompetent. Their genius idea in response to this clearly out of the norm incident was to ban all weapons—real looking, fake looking, wood staffs, plastic blasters, light sabers. That’s really smart because one of them fake plastic lightsabers might be the real physics defying tool of mass destruction and some Sith might decide to just start hacking people apart. It got so bad one of the vendors selling really good collectible lightsabers (still just plexiglass and lights, so not remotely deadly) was escorted off the dealer’s floor. And the company in charge of the event had many contradictory explanations as to why (none of them remotely believable)… because you never know when the plexiglass could magically turn into a stick of deadly plasma hotter than the core of the sun apparently. But it gets better. Every person had to be searched by the woefully understaffed security of the event which meant that people wait in lines…lines that went around the building several times…on Memorial Day…in downtown Phoenix. Yes, more people were harmed from heat stroke last year in line than were harmed by lunatics with weapons in the history of Comicon (I’ll admit I didn’t search every police report, but I did do a search and couldn’t find anything). Also despite the fact that the police requiring this level of security just created a huge mass of stationary targets for any lunatic who did want to hurt people, they also overreacted and instead of realizing the truth that “well we hit the lunatic quota for the decade, probably won’t have any more problems this weekend” as, you know as sane and moderately intelligent person would do, according to several people who spoke off the record, all of SWAT was out on the rooftops ready for action all weekend. As any idiot could have told them before hand, they weren’t needed. Please do remember this is Arizona, where police give contradictory orders and then shoot to kill unarmed people who can’t follow two contradictory orders at the same time…because Arizona police are both stupid and fucking cowards. They also fire gas on people who protest tyranny.** But back to Comicon. In addition to all of this, vendors on the floor also had a lot of trouble breaking even, and I know some aren’t even going this year. So last year was a cluster fuck of epic proportions. But the company in charge thought that they could do better this year!

How you ask? Well in the past most conventions have panels. Lots of panels. They rent huge convention centers and the goal is to fill each and every conference room with as many different panels from open to close to keep the nerds happy. Movies, comics, cosplay, cartoons, games, writing, trivia, dating, blood donation, signups. You name it there was probably a panel for it. Yes, the company running the convention ran through submitted panel ideas, but they accepted anything and everything, let the fans pick the topics, and tried to simply offer as wide a variety of ideas and discussion out there to entertain as many people. It was little more than organized chaos, and it was wonderful because it let the ideas and intellect of geekdom shine in the free flow way the creative process and the love of fandoms relies on. But letting nerds be nerds was apparently not for Phoenix Comic Fest. What do the nerds know, after all? They’re only the people paying the tickets and the ones coming to see all the stuff. Please don’t just take my word for it. Here are the actual words of the Square Egg:

Yes “Themes.” Do they even tell you what those themes are? Nope. They are keeping things so tightly controlled that you need to hold a seance just to know how you goose-step in line with them.

Now I could go off on them…but, the original response to this is so much better than I could ever put it…

    My personal favorite was that one of our panels that was turned down because it didn’t meet with the themes/celebrities of the Con was a panel of the political implication of Star Trek…because Star Trek has nothing to do with a convention whose headline celebrity this year is William Shatner. In the 25th Anniversary year of DS9. At a nerd con where Star Trek is always relevant. If that doesn’t leave you going WTF, I don’t know what would. If you want to say the description of our panel wasn’t interesting, that’s fine. That’s a matter of taste. But to say Star Trek isn’t relevant…I have to assume the people who run this shit show have never actually had anything to do with any fandom ever.

  Now do they have every right to do this? Yes, yes they have every right to do it. They’re fronting the money for the convention center, they’re booking the guests, they’re the one putting all the risk on the line. So, I’m not going to be a petulant child and scream “censorship” because this is not censorship. They’re not stopping me or anyone else from speaking, they’re only saying the podium they paid for isn’t open to everyone. They have every right. But we as fans have every right to say we don’t like what they’re selling. We liked the free exchange of ideas, not a spoon-fed list of topics. We’d like diversity of thought in what to choose from in terms of what panels to go see. We’d like to see our fandoms have a panel even if you couldn’t get a celebrity from that particular show or movie to make it out to the city which is hotter than seventh circle of Hell. So, this is not censorship, censorship only applies when it’s done by the government…this is the free market, and they have the ability to profit or fail (given their incompetence I would bet against profit, but who knows).

    So, if this isn’t censorship, why is any of this important? If you believe that politics isn’t downstream from culture then this isn’t important. I am just a nerd bitching into the darkness because only one of his panels was approved. But if you believe that politics is downstream from culture, then it really matters because it means that culture is becoming more controlled than any time I can think of. Science Fiction, Fantasy, Comics and all the other genres that traditionally go along with conventions of this sort were once the bastion of free thinking ideas, of politically unpopular statements, of the voices on the fringes for good and bad. Star Trek is the first place to show a woman of color in a position of power—it may seem all too trite now where mass media slobbers all over itself to put out one formulaic piece after another with all the main minority and interest group boxes checked—but in its time it was a powerful message. Robert Heinlein and Margaret Atwood’s works warned of the dangers of religiously driven populism. The Twilight Zone and Star Trek offered hope in the future. The science fiction stories of even more traditionally serious writers like E.M. Forester, Kurt Vonnegut, and George Orwell offered us warnings about technology and what government can do with it. This has always been some of the richest ground for the seeds of social change and intellectual freedom. But now Disney through Marvel and Star Wars offers formulaic tripe in the form of explosion joke explosion joke explosion joke tied together with a paper-thin plot…and with Justice League DC jumped on that mindless bandwagon. Star Trek has become a poor imitator of Star Trek on the big screen and a teen dystopian novel on the small screen. And speaking of teen novels, the genre that once gave us Wrinkle in Time gave is now spewing mindless YA novels with characterless protagonists that aren’t worth the paper they’re printed on and would be an insult to kindling to use as fire starter (and the less said about that Wrinkle movie from a writer and director who clearly never read the book the better). The only visions of the future exist somewhere between the Thunderdome and Battle Royale. The optimism in the human spirit in The Twilight Zone and Babylon 5 has been replaced by the bleak pessimism of Orphan Black and Black Mirror. Hell, even The Doctor has become a bitter and cynical shell of its former self. And while the written has fared a little better, the fact that Martin—with his message that humans are all vile disgusting things—has seen major success, doesn’t say much either. And now the conventions are ensuring that this single line of argument continues by ensuring only the topics they want are the ones discussed.

Now I’m not saying that all these new visions of science fiction and fantasy are bad. There has always and SHOULD always be that strain in the deeper levels of these genres. The problem is that there is yin to the yang. The DCEU under Snyder and Nolan with its philosophical richness was the perfect counterpoint to the mindless entertainment of Marvel. If you didn’t like one you had the other. Now they’re both mindless. The thoughtful science fiction of Star Trek which had a vague understanding of science and powerful social commentary was the perfect balance to the fun space opera of Star Wars. Now you just have mindless fun from both. The Twilight Zone countered the Outer Limits, Babylon 5 balanced Stargate, Buffy was not Xena, Dollhouse was for people who wanted more thought than Dark Angel. There used to be balance between hope and cynicism, fun and thoughtfulness, utopian and dystopian visions, substance and style. As there should be. But now we’re just being fed the same cynical, stylistic, fun, and dystopian vision from the content makers and being told by even the fan conventions to march lockstep to their tune. The people selling this crap will respond it’s what the people will buy…but Dennis Miller had a response to this for two decades, it’s for the same reason Eskimos eat whale blubber: it’s the only thing we’re being offered. And the fact is that the Snyder vision of Superman made money, that Whedon pile of trash barely broke even. If you don’t think this both reflects society’s problems and creates those problems, you’re deluded. Phoenix Comic Fest is a symptom, but it’s a big one. Because if you don’t think this is a trend that will continue if not protested that it won’t spread out almost every convention (because if they can control controversy, you know they will because corporations will almost always fall into playing it safe after being in existence long enough). I would of course encourage dealers to boycott (you didn’t make much money last year anyway and you’ll make less this year), fans to boycott, and if you agree with argument, maybe encourage the celebrities you were hoping to see to also cancel. It’s a small thing but so is the start of an avalanche. We need to keep the diversity of thought going. We need to not give into people telling us what to think, read, and enjoy. Because if it starts with what we find entertaining…it will work into what rules we are ruled by. Politics is downstream of culture. This has been true since a Sumerian king embellished tales of his ancestor Gilgamesh to help his own position. It is no less true now. Either we control culture and ensure diversity, or we will deal with all the problem of political conformity (oh wait, we already are).

*It has been renamed from the more traditional Phoenix Comicon because San Diego Comic-con has gone batshit crazy and decided to sue conventions for things that sound like them, as if they have even the slightest shred of intellectual ownership over the word comic or the all too common shortening of convention to con…but how stupid abuse of IP law is getting is a discussion for another time.

**I would really love to support police…but honestly you guys are making the gestapo comparisons just a little too easy. Be the adults in the room, like I pay you to be—grow the fuck up and stop acting worse than the criminals you’re supposed to protect me from. And you good cops out there, your silence in the face of your vile colleagues is not loyalty, it’s to betray to your sworn duty.

[aly-the-writer]

Starbound (Ch 1)

Prologue | Chapter 2 (coming soonish) | Ao3 | Tusin Shade

“My lord – if I might suggest something?” Talos was doubled over as he panted, the Sith Lord stretched out across the ground a few feet away trying to regain his own breath. “Next time perhaps we should refrain from insulting the angry spirit that our investigations woke?”

The Pureblood held his hand up in the ‘okay’ position, cracking his eyes open to watch as Revel carefully navigated his Fury class vessel in for a landing.

“You still alive down there?” the pirate’s voice came over the coms as they came to life again without the thousand year old Sith sorcery interfering with them. (Tusin was actually a bit impressed, usually his fried out in the electricity storms he called in battle.)

He cracked a grin, “Still not dead. I think Talos is even in one piece too. You in one piece over there?”

“I believe I am,” the archaeologist answered, looking through the recordings of the interior of the now collapsed structure distractedly. “Did you see how that spirit was controlling those creatures? Amazing.”

“Boss – you collapsed the tomb before you got the treasure didn’t you?”

“I wasn’t the one who collapsed it!” Tusin scowled at the ship’s hull (never mind at this distance the pirate inside wouldn’t be able to see the expression). “We know why Doctor Yeta’s research team never reported in now though. I wonder why it chose to take such a violent means to defend itself this time when previously it hadn’t resorted to structural damage…”

He hummed softly to himself – thinking on the question - as he pushed himself to his feet inelegantly and dusted off his grime streaked robes.

The rough, durable fabric held up well when washed but the black fabric also showed every pale dust spot. At least blood was mostly a non-concern when it came to appearance. Red didn’t show up well on the material. He knew as soon as he got back to Dromund Kaas though the robes went from practical to drab and ill-fitting for a man of his rank.

“Any messages?” he called as he and Talos got on board and Andronikos got them into the sky.

“Ashara called, left you a message!”

Tusin eyed the blinking holoterminal with a measure of loathing. Things had been…rough with his supposed apprentice since their romantic entanglement had ended. He understood her anger at him – even he could agree it was deserved, but he wasn’t sure if he was ready for whatever he’d done to get the semi-Jedi riled this time.

Gold eyes lingered on the door to his cabin, considering collapsing into bed and pretending he had never asked but he was curious what the togruta wanted with him and considering that he was why her life had changed so dramatically he certainly owed her his time…

Shrugging off the dust-covered outer robe and tossing it to Toovee to fret over he hit the button to bring the recording up.

Ashara was clearly unhappy, her arms crossed self-consciously over her torso as she shifted her weight.

“Okay, look, I had a vision. I don’t know why I’m bothering to tell you of all people…just…be careful. I saw you on a jungle planet and these vines tore you apart.” She looked back to someone off the holocamera and smiled briefly, though it vanished soon as she was looking back at the camera – “There was also a voice…a woman calling you to Rishi.” Ashara disconnected the call abruptly.

“Rishi.” Andronikos murmured, approaching from behind. “She say Rishi?”

Brows raised over bright yellow eyes. The fact that the few tendril protrusions that Tusin did have were located there gave his expressions an exaggerated quality even without the emphasis that he Sith was putting into the ‘What?’ look.

“Rishi’s been coming up on the navicomputer. Thought it was some kind of glitch. Nothing out there but my kind of people.”

“Not a glitch,” The Sith Lord smirked a little, a message – from someone technologically skilled. Hacking a navicomputer wasn’t the most romantic invitation but he could entertain his hope that that was what it was.

Revel grimaced, “Let me guess: You’re thinking of walking straight into a trap.”

“I might be. Don’t worry, you’re dropping me off then taking Talos back to analyze the artifacts we did recover. I need to know what caused that much destruction because it wasn’t the Force.”

“Boss,” he began only to sigh. “Alright. Rishi then get your artifacts and Drellik to one of your labs.”

“Then bring the ship back to Rishi unless I contact you with instructions otherwise,” Tusin added, stifling a yawn behind his hand. It’d been a long day already, and he suspected that once he landed on mysterious Rishi his days would continue to be so. He needed to get some sleep whilst he could. “I’ll trust you with the navigation.”

Revel had suggested different clothes when he’d seen Tusin – warned that it would be hot.

Having dressed in similar robes on Korriban both while fighting and excavating he’d not thought much of it, heat had never been much of a problem for him. And truthfully if it’d just been the heat he probably would’ve been fine.

Instead there was a suffocating, heavy, and sticky damp quality to the air that made everything feel as though it were glued to his skin. Maybe some alternatives to his usual wardrobe weren’t quite as terrible an idea as he’d thought.

Drawing his attention away from his grievances with the weather he scowled a little at the feathered local.

Apparently he had a doppelganger who ran the Howling Tempest Gang in the Gordian Reach, and he could feel the fear of this particular man rise from the chatty local.

It wasn’t the first time he’d had his identity mistaken by criminals but “Woah, that’s not Lucky, he’s red!” had been the usual reaction in the past followed by profuse groveling as Tusin sparked threateningly and – if he was in a particularly bad mood – ignited his lightsaber.

“I’m really not a pirate,” he told the sentient, putting on his friendliest, most charming smile he could.

“Nice try,” the animated Rishii told him. “But there’s no mistaking the talk of the town! Seems like everyone in Raider’s Cove is going on about you and all your insane adventures. Talk about tough customers!”

He smiled despite himself, “Mind pointing me to a cantina?” They were usually the best place to catch up on such talk. It’d be interesting to hear what rumors were about – and with so many it was perhaps less mistaken identity and more deliberate.

“Oh, you’ll wanna watch out for Gorro. He wants to fight you so bad it’s not even funny!”

“Oh?” Tusin echoed. “Where can I find this Gorro?”

“Gorro’s at the Blaster’s Path,” the bird pointed in the direction of that establishment. “Local watering hole. Probably washing down some tonitran jerky with some Mantellian fungolager.”

His lips quirked a little at the oddly specific guess.

The Rishii’s tone took a slightly regretful tone as he continued: “I’m not allowed there anymore – long story – so I hope someone holos your big fight. I wouldn’t wanna miss a single, bloody shot!”

“Thanks, though I’ll try to keep him from fighting me.” He gave the native a slight nod and another smile before he headed away on the rickety wooden pathways.

Well they weren’t completely rickety but a lifetime in the perfect Imperial constructions of the Empire’s heart had given him a strong distrust for anything constructed out of organic material. (That or the number of times he’d watched wooden stairs splinter to dust as his explorations of tombs continued could account for that.

The Blaster’s Path Cantina was at least east to find…

[un-enfant-immature]

Virtual reality gaming and the pursuit of “flow state”

Maggie Lane Contributor

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Maggie Lane is a writer and producer of virtual reality experiences and covers the industry for various publications.

More posts by this contributor

Inside Nickelodeon’s Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles VR Interview Experience

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You need to stop procrastinating. Maybe it’s time for some…

Bulletproof Coffee, Modafinil, nootropics, microdoses of acid, caffeine from coffee, caffeine from bracelets, aromatherapy, noise-canceling headphones, meditation, custom co-working spaces, or productivity apps?

Whatever your choice, workers today (especially in the tech industry) will do just about anything to be more productive.

What we seek is that elusive, perfect focus or flow state. According to researchers, someone in flow will experience a lack of sense of self, a decline in fear, and time distortion. It is peak performance coupled with a euphoric high. All your happy neurotransmitters fire, and your dorsolateral prefrontal cortex performs differently –you do not second guess yourself, you quite simply just flow into the next stages of the activity at hand. And you happen to be performing at the highest level possible. Sounds amazing, right?

But how do we invite this state in? A detailed piece in Fast Company outlines how extreme sports (professional surfing, steep incline skiing, skydiving etc.) are the quickest way we’ve found to tap into human flow. Yet, these hobbies are just that — extreme. They require a large amount of skill and can be dangerous. For example, Steven Kotler, a pioneer in flow state research, broke almost 100 bones as a journalist researching the topic.

It all leads back to our collective (and very American) obsession with input versus output –are we achieving the most possible with the energy we put in? For all the bells and whistles at our disposal, we as a society are steadily declining in productivity as time goes on.

In 2014, a Gallup Poll found that the average American worker only spends a depressing 5% of their day in flow. A 2016 Atlantic article hypothesized that the main reason that we’re decreasing in productivity as a workforce is that we’re not introducing new technologies quickly enough. Tech like robotics and smartphones could add a productivity push, but aren’t being integrated into the workplace. Business models are for the large part not that different from 10 years ago. In essence, we’re bored — we’re not being challenged in an engaging way, so we’re working harder than ever but achieving less.

But what if getting into flow state could be as easy as playing a video game?

Gameplay in RaveRunner

I first met Job Stauffer, Co-Founder and CCO at Orpheus Self-Care Entertainment when I was, in fact, procrastinating from work. I was scrolling through Instagram and saw a clip of Job playing RaveRunner. As I love rhythm games, I immediately requested a build. Yet, I’d soon learn that this wasn’t just a simple VR experience.

RaveRunner was built for Vive, but easily ran on my Rift. When I first stepped into the game, I felt a bit overwhelmed — there was a lot of dark empty space; almost like something out of TRON. It was a little scary, which is actually very helpful for entering flow state. However, my fear soon dissipated as before me was a transparent yellow lady (Job calls her “Goldie”) dancing with the beat — providing a moving demo for gameplay. Unlike the hacking nature of Beat Saber where you smash blocks with lightsabers, in WaveRunner you touch blue and orange glowing circles with your controllers, and move your whole body to the rhythm of the music.

There’s a softer, feminine touch to WaveRunner, and it wasn’t just Goldie. Behind the design of this game is a woman, Ashley Cooper, who is the developer responsible for the gameplay mechanics that can help a player attain flow. “Being in the flow state is incredibly rewarding and we strive to help people reach it by creating experiences like RaveRunner,” says Cooper. RaveRunner is a game you can get lost in, and by stimulating so many senses it allows you to let your higher level thoughts slip away — you become purely reactionary and non-judgemental.

In essence — flow.

After playing in this world for an hour, I called Job and learned more about his company. Apart from RaveRunner, Orpheus has also rolled out two other experiences — MicrodoseVR and SoundSelf. I got my first hands-on demo of all three products in one sitting at a cannabis technology event in Los Angeles, Grassfed LA. Grassfed is specifically geared towards higher brow, hip tech enthusiasts; and the Orpheus suite of products fit right in.

As I lay in a dome with meditative lighting; a subwoofer purring below me; SoundSelf gave me one of the most profound experiences I’ve ever had in VR. I chanted into a microphone and my voice directly influenced the visuals before me. It felt like my spirit, the God particle, whatever you want to call it, was being stimulated from all these sensations. It was such a beautiful experience, but also was pure flow. I felt 2 minutes pass in the experience. I would have bet a hundred dollars on this. But I was inside for 10. Time didn’t make sense — a key indicator of flow state.

Next up was Microdose VR. I first tried Microdose VR in 2016 at the Esalen Institute in Big Sur. Esalen is the birthplace of the human potential movement, and so it was fitting that it was there, where I initially grasped the potential of VR for transformational experiences. Every other experience I had tried up to that point had been First Person Shooters or 360-video marketing pieces. And not to slight those experiences, but I felt that VR must be able to do MORE. Android Jones’ Microdose blew my mind. Like with SoundSelf, I completely lost track of time. I was directly impacting visuals with my body movements, and sound was a big factor as well. It was the first time I could easily imagine staying in VR for hours. Most of all, it was an experience that was only possible within VR. The game was the biggest euphoric rush I’ve felt in VR, and that feeling occurred again at this event.

We have the power as consumers to play games that tie in intrinsically with self care but often don’t have options available. Job was propelled down this path when he asked himself “if I invest one hour of my time per day into playing a video game, what will I personally gain from that time invested, and will I even have time left over to do genuinely good things for myself?”

Orpheus is pioneering the fusion of game design with traditional self-care practices like meditation, dance/exercise, listening to music and creating art: “In short, we simply want players to feel amazing and have zero regrets about their time spent playing our games, allowing them to walk away knowing they have leveled up themselves, instead of their in-game avatars alone.”

One thing that will make it easier for people to try these experiences are portable headsets such as the ViveFocus and the Oculus Quest. Being untethered will allow people to travel with VR wherever they may go. Job sees this fundamental shift right ahead of us, as “video games and self-care are about to become one in the same. A paradigm shift. This is why all immersive Orpheus Self-Care Entertainment projects will be engineered for this critically important wave of VR.”

Orpheus is not a VR-only company, although their first three experiences are indeed for VR. As they expand, they hope to open up to a variety of types of immersive experiences, and are continually looking for projects that align with their holistic mission.

At the end of the day, I love that Orpheus is attempting to tap into a part of the market that so desperately needs their attention. If we don’t make self-care a major part of VR today, then we’ll continue to use VR as a distraction from, as opposed as a tool to enhance, our daily lives.

As for me, along with the peppermint tea, grapefruit candle, and music that make my focus possible, I’ll now be adding some Orpheus games into my flow repertoire.

[williamsjoan]

Virtual reality gaming and the pursuit of “flow state”

Maggie Lane Contributor

Share on Twitter

Maggie Lane is a writer and producer of virtual reality experiences and covers the industry for various publications.

More posts by this contributor

Inside Nickelodeon’s Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles VR Interview Experience

Does Ready Player One reveal the future of VR?

You need to stop procrastinating. Maybe it’s time for some…

Bulletproof Coffee, Modafinil, nootropics, microdoses of acid, caffeine from coffee, caffeine from bracelets, aromatherapy, noise-canceling headphones, meditation, custom co-working spaces, or productivity apps?

Whatever your choice, workers today (especially in the tech industry) will do just about anything to be more productive.

What we seek is that elusive, perfect focus or flow state. According to researchers, someone in flow will experience a lack of sense of self, a decline in fear, and time distortion. It is peak performance coupled with a euphoric high. All your happy neurotransmitters fire, and your dorsolateral prefrontal cortex performs differently –you do not second guess yourself, you quite simply just flow into the next stages of the activity at hand. And you happen to be performing at the highest level possible. Sounds amazing, right?

But how do we invite this state in? A detailed piece in Fast Company outlines how extreme sports (professional surfing, steep incline skiing, skydiving etc.) are the quickest way we’ve found to tap into human flow. Yet, these hobbies are just that — extreme. They require a large amount of skill and can be dangerous. For example, Steven Kotler, a pioneer in flow state research, broke almost 100 bones as a journalist researching the topic.

It all leads back to our collective (and very American) obsession with input versus output –are we achieving the most possible with the energy we put in? For all the bells and whistles at our disposal, we as a society are steadily declining in productivity as time goes on.

In 2014, a Gallup Poll found that the average American worker only spends a depressing 5% of their day in flow. A 2016 Atlantic article hypothesized that the main reason that we’re decreasing in productivity as a workforce is that we’re not introducing new technologies quickly enough. Tech like robotics and smartphones could add a productivity push, but aren’t being integrated into the workplace. Business models are for the large part not that different from 10 years ago. In essence, we’re bored — we’re not being challenged in an engaging way, so we’re working harder than ever but achieving less.

But what if getting into flow state could be as easy as playing a video game?

Gameplay in RaveRunner

I first met Job Stauffer, Co-Founder and CCO at Orpheus Self-Care Entertainment when I was, in fact, procrastinating from work. I was scrolling through Instagram and saw a clip of Job playing RaveRunner. As I love rhythm games, I immediately requested a build. Yet, I’d soon learn that this wasn’t just a simple VR experience.

RaveRunner was built for Vive, but easily ran on my Rift. When I first stepped into the game, I felt a bit overwhelmed — there was a lot of dark empty space; almost like something out of TRON. It was a little scary, which is actually very helpful for entering flow state. However, my fear soon dissipated as before me was a transparent yellow lady (Job calls her “Goldie”) dancing with the beat — providing a moving demo for gameplay. Unlike the hacking nature of Beat Saber where you smash blocks with lightsabers, in WaveRunner you touch blue and orange glowing circles with your controllers, and move your whole body to the rhythm of the music.

There’s a softer, feminine touch to WaveRunner, and it wasn’t just Goldie. Behind the design of this game is a woman, Ashley Cooper, who is the developer responsible for the gameplay mechanics that can help a player attain flow. “Being in the flow state is incredibly rewarding and we strive to help people reach it by creating experiences like RaveRunner,” says Cooper. RaveRunner is a game you can get lost in, and by stimulating so many senses it allows you to let your higher level thoughts slip away — you become purely reactionary and non-judgemental.

In essence — flow.

After playing in this world for an hour, I called Job and learned more about his company. Apart from RaveRunner, Orpheus has also rolled out two other experiences — MicrodoseVR and SoundSelf. I got my first hands-on demo of all three products in one sitting at a cannabis technology event in Los Angeles, Grassfed LA. Grassfed is specifically geared towards higher brow, hip tech enthusiasts; and the Orpheus suite of products fit right in.

As I lay in a dome with meditative lighting; a subwoofer purring below me; SoundSelf gave me one of the most profound experiences I’ve ever had in VR. I chanted into a microphone and my voice directly influenced the visuals before me. It felt like my spirit, the God particle, whatever you want to call it, was being stimulated from all these sensations. It was such a beautiful experience, but also was pure flow. I felt 2 minutes pass in the experience. I would have bet a hundred dollars on this. But I was inside for 10. Time didn’t make sense — a key indicator of flow state.

Next up was Microdose VR. I first tried Microdose VR in 2016 at the Esalen Institute in Big Sur. Esalen is the birthplace of the human potential movement, and so it was fitting that it was there, where I initially grasped the potential of VR for transformational experiences. Every other experience I had tried up to that point had been First Person Shooters or 360-video marketing pieces. And not to slight those experiences, but I felt that VR must be able to do MORE. Android Jones’ Microdose blew my mind. Like with SoundSelf, I completely lost track of time. I was directly impacting visuals with my body movements, and sound was a big factor as well. It was the first time I could easily imagine staying in VR for hours. Most of all, it was an experience that was only possible within VR. The game was the biggest euphoric rush I’ve felt in VR, and that feeling occurred again at this event.

We have the power as consumers to play games that tie in intrinsically with self care but often don’t have options available. Job was propelled down this path when he asked himself “if I invest one hour of my time per day into playing a video game, what will I personally gain from that time invested, and will I even have time left over to do genuinely good things for myself?”

Orpheus is pioneering the fusion of game design with traditional self-care practices like meditation, dance/exercise, listening to music and creating art: “In short, we simply want players to feel amazing and have zero regrets about their time spent playing our games, allowing them to walk away knowing they have leveled up themselves, instead of their in-game avatars alone.”

One thing that will make it easier for people to try these experiences are portable headsets such as the ViveFocus and the Oculus Quest. Being untethered will allow people to travel with VR wherever they may go. Job sees this fundamental shift right ahead of us, as “video games and self-care are about to become one in the same. A paradigm shift. This is why all immersive Orpheus Self-Care Entertainment projects will be engineered for this critically important wave of VR.”

Orpheus is not a VR-only company, although their first three experiences are indeed for VR. As they expand, they hope to open up to a variety of types of immersive experiences, and are continually looking for projects that align with their holistic mission.

At the end of the day, I love that Orpheus is attempting to tap into a part of the market that so desperately needs their attention. If we don’t make self-care a major part of VR today, then we’ll continue to use VR as a distraction from, as opposed as a tool to enhance, our daily lives.

As for me, along with the peppermint tea, grapefruit candle, and music that make my focus possible, I’ll now be adding some Orpheus games into my flow repertoire.

Virtual reality gaming and the pursuit of “flow state” published first on https://timloewe.tumblr.com/

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Maggie Lane Contributor

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Maggie Lane is a writer and producer of virtual reality experiences and covers the industry for various publications.

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You need to stop procrastinating. Maybe it’s time for some…

Bulletproof Coffee, Modafinil, nootropics, microdoses of acid, caffeine from coffee, caffeine from bracelets, aromatherapy, noise-canceling headphones, meditation, custom co-working spaces, or productivity apps?

Whatever your choice, workers today (especially in the tech industry) will do just about anything to be more productive.

What we seek is that elusive, perfect focus or flow state. According to researchers, someone in flow will experience a lack of sense of self, a decline in fear, and time distortion. It is peak performance coupled with a euphoric high. All your happy neurotransmitters fire, and your dorsolateral prefrontal cortex performs differently –you do not second guess yourself, you quite simply just flow into the next stages of the activity at hand. And you happen to be performing at the highest level possible. Sounds amazing, right?

But how do we invite this state in? A detailed piece in Fast Company outlines how extreme sports (professional surfing, steep incline skiing, skydiving etc.) are the quickest way we’ve found to tap into human flow. Yet, these hobbies are just that — extreme. They require a large amount of skill and can be dangerous. For example, Steven Kotler, a pioneer in flow state research, broke almost 100 bones as a journalist researching the topic.

It all leads back to our collective (and very American) obsession with input versus output –are we achieving the most possible with the energy we put in? For all the bells and whistles at our disposal, we as a society are steadily declining in productivity as time goes on.

In 2014, a Gallup Poll found that the average American worker only spends a depressing 5% of their day in flow. A 2016 Atlantic article hypothesized that the main reason that we’re decreasing in productivity as a workforce is that we’re not introducing new technologies quickly enough. Tech like robotics and smartphones could add a productivity push, but aren’t being integrated into the workplace. Business models are for the large part not that different from 10 years ago. In essence, we’re bored — we’re not being challenged in an engaging way, so we’re working harder than ever but achieving less.

But what if getting into flow state could be as easy as playing a video game?

Gameplay in RaveRunner

I first met Job Stauffer, Co-Founder and CCO at Orpheus Self-Care Entertainment when I was, in fact, procrastinating from work. I was scrolling through Instagram and saw a clip of Job playing RaveRunner. As I love rhythm games, I immediately requested a build. Yet, I’d soon learn that this wasn’t just a simple VR experience.

RaveRunner was built for Vive, but easily ran on my Rift. When I first stepped into the game, I felt a bit overwhelmed — there was a lot of dark empty space; almost like something out of TRON. It was a little scary, which is actually very helpful for entering flow state. However, my fear soon dissipated as before me was a transparent yellow lady (Job calls her “Goldie”) dancing with the beat — providing a moving demo for gameplay. Unlike the hacking nature of Beat Saber where you smash blocks with lightsabers, in WaveRunner you touch blue and orange glowing circles with your controllers, and move your whole body to the rhythm of the music.

There’s a softer, feminine touch to WaveRunner, and it wasn’t just Goldie. Behind the design of this game is a woman, Ashley Cooper, who is the developer responsible for the gameplay mechanics that can help a player attain flow. “Being in the flow state is incredibly rewarding and we strive to help people reach it by creating experiences like RaveRunner,” says Cooper. RaveRunner is a game you can get lost in, and by stimulating so many senses it allows you to let your higher level thoughts slip away — you become purely reactionary and non-judgemental.

In essence — flow.

After playing in this world for an hour, I called Job and learned more about his company. Apart from RaveRunner, Orpheus has also rolled out two other experiences — MicrodoseVR and SoundSelf. I got my first hands-on demo of all three products in one sitting at a cannabis technology event in Los Angeles, Grassfed LA. Grassfed is specifically geared towards higher brow, hip tech enthusiasts; and the Orpheus suite of products fit right in.

As I lay in a dome with meditative lighting; a subwoofer purring below me; SoundSelf gave me one of the most profound experiences I’ve ever had in VR. I chanted into a microphone and my voice directly influenced the visuals before me. It felt like my spirit, the God particle, whatever you want to call it, was being stimulated from all these sensations. It was such a beautiful experience, but also was pure flow. I felt 2 minutes pass in the experience. I would have bet a hundred dollars on this. But I was inside for 10. Time didn’t make sense — a key indicator of flow state.

Next up was Microdose VR. I first tried Microdose VR in 2016 at the Esalen Institute in Big Sur. Esalen is the birthplace of the human potential movement, and so it was fitting that it was there, where I initially grasped the potential of VR for transformational experiences. Every other experience I had tried up to that point had been First Person Shooters or 360-video marketing pieces. And not to slight those experiences, but I felt that VR must be able to do MORE. Android Jones’ Microdose blew my mind. Like with SoundSelf, I completely lost track of time. I was directly impacting visuals with my body movements, and sound was a big factor as well. It was the first time I could easily imagine staying in VR for hours. Most of all, it was an experience that was only possible within VR. The game was the biggest euphoric rush I’ve felt in VR, and that feeling occurred again at this event.

We have the power as consumers to play games that tie in intrinsically with self care but often don’t have options available. Job was propelled down this path when he asked himself “if I invest one hour of my time per day into playing a video game, what will I personally gain from that time invested, and will I even have time left over to do genuinely good things for myself?”

Orpheus is pioneering the fusion of game design with traditional self-care practices like meditation, dance/exercise, listening to music and creating art: “In short, we simply want players to feel amazing and have zero regrets about their time spent playing our games, allowing them to walk away knowing they have leveled up themselves, instead of their in-game avatars alone.”

One thing that will make it easier for people to try these experiences are portable headsets such as the ViveFocus and the Oculus Quest. Being untethered will allow people to travel with VR wherever they may go. Job sees this fundamental shift right ahead of us, as “video games and self-care are about to become one in the same. A paradigm shift. This is why all immersive Orpheus Self-Care Entertainment projects will be engineered for this critically important wave of VR.”

Orpheus is not a VR-only company, although their first three experiences are indeed for VR. As they expand, they hope to open up to a variety of types of immersive experiences, and are continually looking for projects that align with their holistic mission.

At the end of the day, I love that Orpheus is attempting to tap into a part of the market that so desperately needs their attention. If we don’t make self-care a major part of VR today, then we’ll continue to use VR as a distraction from, as opposed as a tool to enhance, our daily lives.

As for me, along with the peppermint tea, grapefruit candle, and music that make my focus possible, I’ll now be adding some Orpheus games into my flow repertoire.

via TechCrunch