#ban ban reference?)) haven’t had that much time to learn such complicated things and are left to use the small amount of knowledge they have

[ray-without-organs]

im so mad at people who think time travel will ever exist. thats not how physics works buddy I would know (im 13 and have never studied physics in my life, however, due to an intense ego, I believe that everything my brain tells me is true because it sounds true) you are not larger than the universe you cant just grab fucking time like that and fuck with it. how would you even calculate where to go? the universe isn’t sentient or a thing it doesn’t register your HUMAN MORTAL concepts of time. you cant just tell your machine to go to 2009[1] and it’ll understand what the fuck youre talking about . shut the fuck up. listen I have childish dreams and ambitions too but you know what im NOT. an OPTIMIST. you are NOT time traveling. these are also the same reasons for visual snow and why teleportation isnt possible as well.

in 2009 stephen hawking (rip king i miss you I dont care about epsteins island you will always be in my heart) made a party for time travellers, after the party ended he released the invites . nobody showed up of course. or DID THEY? maybe they showed up but told Stephen hawking not to tell anyone they did because that could fuck up the timeline? No they didn’t. time travel isnt real. go fuck yourself hawking. love you though!

[magicalforcesau]

Dancing With Ghosts in Your Garden~ Chapter 18 - Year 2: February

(ao3 link)

In lieu of the incident with the sleeping draught, all prefects were mandated to enroll in Professor Palpatine’s brand new weekly Potions seminars. As the misstep with the Vitamix potion along with Maul’s nearing presence showed, it was ideal that all prefects be properly trained in the event that professors were once again subdued. This, they felt, combined with Professor Fisto’s ongoing dueling club, would prepare them.

Obi-Wan’s doubts of how prepared they could possibly be for something so unpredictable grew stronger with each day. Although he was already enrolled in the advanced potions class, he would never deny the opportunity to learn more. If anything, it would at least offer more practice.

“Given that it’s February, I figured it best we start with a common favorite amongst the masses of troublemakers,” Palpatine’s shoes clicked on the ground as he paced at the front of the room.

From what Obi-Wan understood, Palpatine didn’t receive any punishment for the accidental sleeping potion brew. Yoda had, of course, received a rather scathing howler from the Ministry at his supposed flightiness, of which he took the blame for. It seemed Anakin had stepped up and claimed it was he who accidentally knocked the draught in the already brewing potion.

That all certainly added up and did not help Anakin’s reputation amongst his peers.

“Any guesses to what that would be?” Palpatine asked, eagerly taking in the small crowd of Hogwarts’ best with expectant eyes.

Because this was a class full of prefects, each were considerably decent students and wanted to learn. There were exceptions, Obi-Wan realized as he looked over to a nearly snoozing Zeb, but they were outliers.

“Love potions?” Breha Organa said rather dreamily. Obi-Wan didn’t need to turn around to know she’d been looking at Bail as she said it.

“Right you are, Breha!” Palpatine smiled, “Amortentia is the most powerful love potion in the world, at that. Many of you and your students are for the first time diving into the wondrous and mysterious landscape that is romance. Some of you aren’t even aware that you are.”

Did he look at Obi-Wan on purpose? No, that would be silly. Palpatine always took care to rove eye contact throughout the classroom. It was a sufficient method of maintaining focus and Obi-Wan knew this, but he still shifted his gaze immediately elsewhere like he’d been caught copying homework.

“Love and potions aren’t all that different, really.” He continued, “The right and organic combination makes a fruitful and prosperous brew. The wrong and inauthentic combination is bitter and not made to last.”

“And if you’re not careful, you could end up with a wrinkly, scrawny little creature.” Zeb added knowingly, earning a few chuckles throughout the group.

“As if you’ve got anything to worry about there.” Caleb muttered, and much to Zeb’s dismay, acquired a more popular response.

“Boys, please.” Palpatine chastised, “I don’t want word to travel that Gryffindor’s prefects lost them points.”

“Cody would have an aneurysm,” Satine whispered and Obi-Wan only nodded in response. It was no secret to either of them that their friend was less than pleased with how bleak Gryffindor’s odds of obtaining either the House or Quidditch cup were becoming. If he heard that Caleb and Zeb worsened those odds, neither would be awaiting a very pretty conversation.

The troublesome two seemed to recognize this and justly shut their traps.

The class turned back to Palpatine, who seemed rather satisfied with the change in their mood and circled around the cauldron at the center of his desk. From it, emerged a pink fog that resembled a cloud at sunset and judging by the smile its scent drew from Palpatine, it smelled as pleasant as it looked.

“A love potion manufactures the deepest desires from the person who ingests it, manifesting them all at once in an intoxicating fashion that causes them to see the intended target in a different light.” He said almost reverently, “Ironically, it’s called a love potion, when it should really be called an infatuation potion.”

“That’s because you can’t build love from a substance.” Satine muttered from beside him. “Try as some might.”

Obi-Wan stared at the cauldron. He’d heard of amortentia. Evidently, a cheap ineffective version was sold at Zonko’s in Hogsmeade, though he never took much care to notice. He didn’t know much about love, save for the fact that it seemed highly unlikely for anything to recreate something as complicated as attraction.

She raised her hand, “Professor? Aren’t love potions banned at Hogwarts?”

“That they are,” Palpatine said with crossed hands, “Though that’s not to say they haven’t been smuggled in before.”

“Why would they do that?” A familiar high pitched voice from the back called.

Despite his interest in the subject, Obi-Wan couldn’t resist snapping his neck in turning to see none other than Anakin Skywalker sitting at the back desk, looking incredibly small in stature next to Onaconda Farr. Farr, in his defense, looked just as confused by Anakin’s presence as Obi-Wan felt.

“What are you doing here?” Obi-Wan asked him, “This is supposed to be for prefects only.”

“Not to worry, Mr. Kenobi, I did grant Anakin permission to attend.” Palpatine answered before Anakin could muster up a smart response, “Anakin shows a real knack for potions and given the circumstances, I would say it’s best that he be included whenever he could be protected.”

Obi-Wan slumped back in his chair, feeling properly admonished. It wasn’t that he didn’t think Anakin was capable. It was quite the opposite, actually, but there was an order to these things and learning advanced spells before one was ready did not seem indicative of a sound idea. Anakin needed to learn the building blocks still, whether he believed it or not. Despite his talent, he knew there was an absence of maturity to handle heavy source material. Dueling was one thing, as there was an obvious precedence for it right now and it was typically taught to some degree during second year anyway. Teaching Anakin about love potions felt more like giving a dog a steak and telling him not to eat it. He could try to convince everyone that he was over his crush on Padmé all he wanted, but it simply wasn’t true.

“To answer your question, Anakin,” Palpatine continued, “When someone is too blind with desperation to see reason, they will do just about anything to acquire what they want. A love potion, while sounding frilly and fun, occludes all rational thinking from the person it's given to.”

“And typically, it’s not ingested voluntarily.” Satine added.

Obi-Wan frowned, thinking of the potentially dastardly effects such a tool could provide for a desperately lovesick person. It was no different than being under a curse, in a sense, because the poor sap trapped in such a state had no agency whatsoever.

“How does one tell if someone is suffering from the effects of a love potion?” Fenn Rau asked.

“Why, you see them every day in young and happy couples as you walk through these halls. They’re starry-eyed, flushed, unspeakably happy, practically in a trance.”

“How are we to tell the difference then?” Obi-Wan asked.

“These features tend to be a good deal more exemplified and elongated.” Palpatine said, “For instance, while the honeymoon phase is technically normal, it’s really not meant to last. There’s also known to be loss of memory in the person as the potion begins to fade. We advise that you all keep an eye and see if you notice any excessively clingy and almost controlling couples.”

Obi-Wan thought about his parents, finding it very hard to believe they ever had any semblance of a honeymoon phase. They were so professional all the time that he’d rarely seen them even smile in the other’s presence. Of course, he was always splitting up sneaky couples that tried to sneak off to snog, so he supposed he did have some experience witnessing what Palpatine was referring to. Part of him was having a difficult time reconciling with the fact that it was their ancient potions professor who was explaining to them the complexities of romance.

“Because of the dangers that this possesses,” He waved a little pink vial around for all to show, allowing the light to catch it in a way that made it sparkle, “I believe it’s important that you understand these properties quite well and that you take care not to share this information outside of this room.”

There was a warning tone to his voice that was rarely used and Obi-Wan swore everyone sat up even straighter, though he doubted that was possible for Satine, who already appeared quite alert.

“It’s okay to take notes, of course, right?” Hondo asked from the other back corner of the room opposite to Anakin.

“Yes, but-” The older man did a double take as he whipped back around, “Hondo, what are you doing here?”

Obi-Wan thought it was fairly obvious what Hondo was doing and why he was suddenly so apt to take notes. He hadn’t thought to say anything when he originally saw him, seeing as if Anakin was invited, maybe he’d thought to include another unexpected guest. Hondo was possessed for a significant amount of time, after all.”

“Just trying to perfect my recipe is all.” Hondo had the gall to shrug, “What’s so wrong about that?”

“You mean besides intruding upon a meeting where you are not welcome and admitting in advance that you intend to sell an illegal substance throughout the school?” Palpatine asked, “I suppose we could discuss your time management skills, seeing as you have plenty of potion’s homework that you could be catching up on.”

Reading the room for a change, Hondo sighed like a great disservice had just been done to him, “You can’t fault a guy for trying.”

“Actually, I can. 15 points from Slytherin.” Palpatine crossed his arms, “And I expect your essay on Felix Felicis on my desk tomorrow morning.”

“My tutor isn’t going to like that.” Hondo grumbled as he walked by Obi-Wan, “He’s not even finished my Charms presentation.”

“Why would you say that to us?” Satine hissed, knowing full well that they were now going to have to look up the legitimacy of Hondo’s new “tutor” in their dwindling free time.  

“I’m honest to a fault!” He shrugged as he fully exited the room and was promptly locked out by Palpatine. He even took the effort of using two padlocks to secure the job. To be fair, Hondo was quite slippery.

“Now,” He said as he clapped his hands together once, “Why don’t we get to the important part? Brewing!”

***

This was a colossal waste of his time, skills, and resources.

While Sidious normally enjoyed when the school devolved into chaos, he did not appreciate when it stood in the way of his plans. Right now, his former apprentice was the obstacle that could feasibly destroy everything he’d worked tirelessly to achieve, all before it could truly start.

He knew he should have killed him when he had the chance, but Azkaban just seemed all the more fitting for the murder machine to waste his days away at the hand of his own failure. He would not make that mistake ever again.

So, it seemed Sidious’ own interests aligned with the rest of his colleagues: get rid of Maul. It felt peculiar- to be on the same side as the enemy, but if he wanted to defeat them, he needed this loose cannon of a pawn to be decimated before it was too late.

And through it all, the putrid “open-minded” community only served to remind him why they needed to be brought to an end. In what world would enlisting the Potions professor to teach love potions be useful? How he managed to seem convincing, he was unsure, because there was no greater waste of time than the frivolous pursuit of love. Well, unless it was being manipulated as a fulcrum for change.

Even with as little soul as he had remaining, if any, he still found the smell of amortentia to be utterly arousing. They certainly wouldn’t enjoy to know what he smelled when he breathed in amortentia: fire, ash, rubble, stained blood.

They should be barricading, sending students out in troves to hunt the demon down, and utilize the muggle-borns as bait in a trap to be sprung. Maul couldn’t resist the hunt. He knew such instincts never changed, not even from the waning sense of purpose that Azkaban reduced men to.

Instead, here he was, giving a pointless lecture on the dangers of love potions. After which, they’ll have another practice dueling session with snowballs. It was pitiful. At the very least, they should be using stones. Children needed to learn pain at an early age. They needed to become so familiar with the sensation that they found home in it. In the hearth of that home, is the power that exists from within. Only then, can they prevail.

He glanced to the back corner of the room and felt his lips twitch. Between this year and the last, Skywalker was becoming quite acquainted with pain. He grimaced as he took in the rest of the lot, noting how soft they all were as they nervously discovered what attracted them when they leaned over their brewing cauldrons. At least he’d been able to kick that waste of blood Ohnaka out. He was spared of that particular headache, especially when just looking at the boy angered him to no end when he considered how deeply that botched experiment failed. Truly, that family couldn’t do anything right- not even when under hypnosis.

He had no doubts that Maul was scoping out the land, realizing just how weak these wizards had gotten since he was in school- that his lessons from Sidious had always reigned supreme and that no one stood in his way, save for Yoda and Sidious, himself. That would be disastrous if anyone witnessed a reunion between the two. They would know instantly.

Then again, if Sidious were to capture and kill Maul, he would only further his popularity amongst the simpletons that allegedly “ran” their community. Perhaps, there could be salvaging of this wreck. Tyranus need not be the only one to pull strings in the wake of Maul’s drama. It was only fitting, since Sidious was the marionettist and this was to be his show.

Not only that, but such a feat would certainly impress the boy, who clearly had a sound reason for disliking Maul. While Sidious loathed the concept of needing to work towards the trust and approval of a child, understood that in due time, it would be worth it.

Even if such a boy nearly killed them all with his own klutziness.

Sidious breathed a steadying breath, just barely turned away from any possible lingering gazes.

He moved over to his desk and opened the top drawer. He needed a drink.

***

Satine, like many of the curious girls in her year, had done fair research on the subject of amortentia. Apparently, it had ruined its fair share of marriages as well as mental health states, making it completely illegal to produce for private or public subsidization. It seemed, curiously, only the aurors could do so with Ministry approval. That, much to Satine’s confusion, was the case for many subjects.

“Because I would hate to have a bunch of little zombies in my class, we’ll just be smelling the potions today.” Palpatine announced.

Despite her knowledge that amortentia affected everyone differently, she still wasn’t quite expecting the drunk-like sensation that filled her up from head to toe as she took a deep breath in from the fumes that emanated off the surface. Everything around her seemed to move in slow motion and her chest rose and fell with the relaxed notion of falling asleep, except she simultaneously never felt more stimulated in her life.

She’d never known that you could smell so many wonderful things at once yet still differentiate them for what they were and more importantly, how it got her flushed in a way that made her shift in her seat.

New books, homemade apple pie, crisp fall air, the lingering remnants of a minty aftershave wrapping around her like a scarf…

She started out of her reverie, blushing too mad to even consider looking to her left no matter how curious she suddenly was. Her heart was beating out of her chest and if she wasn’t absolutely certain of the potency of amortentia, she’d have the decency to be more embarrassed. Instead, she willed herself to calm down and refused to breathe through her nose any further, no matter how warm she felt when she had.

While none of what she witnessed was news to her per say, it wasn’t like she made a habit of lollygagging and daydreaming in the middle of a classroom setting. It was quite disarming to be so vulnerable yet also so close to what (or who, for that matter) was driving her crazy to begin with.

“Problem, Mr. Kenobi?” Palpatine was suddenly standing in front of them, which was at least a little bit of a distraction.

A ringing in her brain wanted desperately to ask him what he smelled, but she felt herself frown deeply when she noticed Obi-Wan was leaning with his entire face in his little cauldron, trying desperately to catch a whiff. Surely, if he got any closer, he was going to accidentally inhale the potion through his nose.

“I might have brewed it incorrectly.” He muttered, echoing a bit from still having his head in the cauldron.

“Let me see,” Palpatine urged him to lift his head and under normal circumstances, Satine might tease him for the little creases that the rim brought to his face.

The professor raised his nose to the fumes that still wafted through the air and smiled dreamily. She wondered if they would ever know what he was seeing when he inhaled the scent. It was none of their business to ask, but she really couldn’t picture Palpatine being in love with anyone.

“No, no, it’s perfectly correct,” He said with the airs of residual glee, “Why?”

Instead of giving him a straight answer, Obi-Wan turned to Satine, “I think I need you to move.”

Any previous concern, as per usual with Obi-Wan, was replaced with a scalding sort of annoyance only reserved for him, “What? Why?”

As she held her own special adverse reaction to him, he had one for her that matched. His eyebrows furrowed as he gestured to his cauldron. Sometimes, he was far too serious for his own good, “As lovely as your perfume is, you don’t need to go so heavy-handed with it! I can’t smell the potion.”

Satine, who initially believed they were going to get into an argument, found that she had no points to be made, because all that came out of her mouth was a little puff of air. Palpatine, if she had the eyes to spare him a look, was equally as surprised, even if not nearly as emotionally invested in such a rebuff.

“What?” Obi-Wan finally asked, growing more annoyed at not being in on the punchline.

Everyone else was suspiciously quiet too, much to Satine’s growing unease, but she could hardly spare a thought other than to say, “I’m out of perfume, actually. I sent Copikla home yesterday so my mum could send me a new bottle.”

Instead of being annoyed, the clouds seemed to clear, if only a little bit, and he flickered back to the potion, “But how-”

“-It smells different to everyone.” Palpatine, who looked between the two of them with his face stretched in discomfort and eyebrows raised beyond physics, clarified with a tone that was clearly meant for only them, “Based on what the individual finds attractive.”

All of the color seemed to wash out of Obi-Wan’s charmingly embarrassed face as his mind worked rapidly to wrap his head around that answer. Even though she hadn’t breathed in her potion again, Satine still swore she was suddenly feeling the effects of it.

“I- Well,” He tried to formulate a response, but to his credit, he had just admitted that he was at the very least attracted to her perfume (which she made the mental note to stock up on more frequently), in front of the entire class of prefects and Anakin.

“Oooooooh Obi-Wan likes perfume.” Anakin, while completely missing the point and a big teasing opportunity, shattered the tension that previously froze the entire room and everyone burst out into a fit of needed laughter. Even Obi-Wan laughed, though nervously, as he flashed Satine the occasional glance here and there through lowered lashes, as if trying to gage her reaction to this accidental admission.

She smiled. Clearly, it was to her benefit to read ahead of him.

“For what it’s worth,” She said in the midst of the uncontrollable chatter that erupted thanks to Anakin’s offhand comment, “You smell nice too.”

He blushed, which she found she quite liked the shade of pink on his face, “Thanks.”

It didn’t address the underlying implications, just as neither of them seized the moment to do so on Christmas Eve. She found it was just as frustrating trying to guess what was going on inside of his head as it was waiting for him to do something about the things she did know.

As much as she wanted the cat to be fully out of the bag, she knew the middle of Palpatine’s potions class wasn’t the time or place.

***

“I believe it’s a mistake to have any more Hogsmeade trips this year,” Qui-Gon said to his other heads of house and to Yoda, who was staring quite pensively out the window, “Not when we know what we know. It’s quite possible that Maul has an entrance to the school if he truly is behind what happened to Bultar Swan.”

“We have no real proof that he is, though.” Shaak Ti said, “It certainly doesn’t seem like his style.”

“While I know the usual term “innocent until proven guilty” is our mantra, I think we should consider being more hesitant with Maul.” Qui-Gon said.

“I agree,” Windu nodded, standing firmly next to him, “Though having more students out of the school would allow us a proper amount of time to sweep the school and see if he had any secret entrances.”

“We have that same opportunity at night.” Qui-Gon said.

“You know this school shifts and changes between night and day,” Palpatine said warily, “It is ever-moving and Bultar Swan was attacked in broad daylight in a common room.”

“Why are we not interviewing more Ravenclaws then?” Windu asked, “We’ve got to do something! Skywalker’s mother is missing and we all know that boy isn’t going to lay down and allow for speculation to simply rise without doing something foolish.”

“I don’t appreciate your assumptions of Anakin.” Qui-Gon said, “He’s a bright, even if impulsive boy, who is going through an unspeakable grief.”

“No one twice his age should have to endure what he’s going through,” Shaak Ti said kindly, “Let alone as young as he.”

“I’m not saying he has no reason to act out.” Windu raised his hands, “I’m merely stating that it is only a matter of time before he takes matters into his own hands.”

“That would make it easier for Maul, unfortunately,” Palpatine agreed, “Perhaps we should motion to shut off the Floo network?”

“Done that, I have.” Yoda spoke up, “Because used it, he did.”

“For what?” Qui-Gon asked eagerly.

“Unknown location, he accessed.” Yoda mused, “Unregistered through the network, it is. Talk to Dooku, I suspect.”

Palpatine frowned, “That can’t be good.”

“No, it can’t.” Windu agreed, “Can you extend your protective charms to Hogsmeade, Yoda?”

“Do that, I did, after we woke up from the sleeping incident.”

“Oh, so it’s safe then.” Shaak Ti shrugged, “The dementors haven’t detected Maul on the inside and he was last seen on Diagon Alley.”

“I’m sure this is quite exhausting for you, Headmaster.” Windu acknowledged.

It was true. Extending his powers over an entire settlement as well as the castle at all times would have drained any normal wizard to death. Yoda, as it were, was not a normal wizard. Even still, it was visible on his worn features that he was exhausted.

“Safe, the students should be,” He said instead, “But careful we will still be. Search the school we will for secret entrances while they are gone, we will.”

***

“Are they gone yet?” Anakin asked, ducking up from where he’d been digging furiously through his trunk. Rex who was sitting on the window sill keeping watch over the massive gates of Hogwarts nodded slowly.

“Yeah I think so,” He confirmed, stretching his arms above his head and yawning, “I dunno mate, don’t you think a nice Saturday in might be nicer than trying this again. Don’t you remember what happened last time?”

“Psh!” Anakin waved a hand, “Well we’re certainly not trying anything like that again. Although I would like to get another look at that sword.”

“I figured you’d seen enough swords in your short life,” Rex rolled his eyes, “Didn’t Dooku intend to sacrifice you with one?”

“It was still cool, but I’m not really trying to go to Hogsmeade, just give off a good impression.” Anakin shrugged before he pulled out his nicest T-Shirt, swiftly pulling the one he had been wearing off and switching them out, “Well how do I look?”

“The same but in green,” Rex deadpanned leaning his head on his hand, “If all we’re doing up here is playing dress up then I’d much rather get this show on the road.”

“Oh come on,” Anakin checked himself out in the dingy mirror on the back of the door. He was really hoping he’d run into Padmé; he thought she’d like it. He’d already seen her leave, but overheard her talking to her friends about Rabé meeting them later and taking the tunnels. His mum had bought it for him over the summer and he tried to push past the rising feeling of sadness, “We had to wait until all the prefects left anyways, I’m not really looking to be caught and dragged back here by any of them and especially not Zeb, who was eyeing us up pretty hard at breakfast.”

Rex shuddered, “Definitely don’t need him tossing us through the portrait hole again. It’s not our fault that the rest of the second years left without us!”

“I’d hate to see what happens if we’re caught alone of our own accord,” Anakin grinned, despite the true statement, such a thing wouldn’t stop them, “Well, let’s go before Windu gets here to babysit.”

“Right,” Rex grimaced, standing up and grabbing his wand. Anakin grabbed his as well, throwing it into his robe, it was much too cold to go around without it, and they headed down and out of the common room. He really hoped no one would snitch on them.

The two traversed the halls carefully. Keeping quiet for once to listen for approaching footsteps and ducking into a few empty classrooms to avoid the ghosts lurking around the otherwise empty halls. It took much longer than they’d have liked to make it down to where the tunnel’s entrance would begin. Luckily, the map showed Rabé’s little figure moving in that direction too, marking a bit of a clear path. She would lead them straight to Padmé.

Anakin’s heart rate increased for more reasons than being caught.

He thought better of it. Obi-Wan would probably kill him on the spot if he slithered out of the tunnel and into Hogsmeade. Not to mention, Maul was lurking around in the area looking for him. Maybe, if they caught up with Rabé in the tunnel, he could simply give her the necklace to give to Padmé.

It didn’t sound incredibly indicative of his house in terms of bravery, but he knew at least Obi-Wan would approve of his method.  

“Almost there!” Anakin grinned at Rex, but almost had his head knocked clean from his body when Rex grabbed his robe and yanked him hard into an empty classroom, “Wha-?”

“Shh!!” Rex was very much alert and his eyes narrowed as they both heard footsteps echoing off the walls. The footsteps paused just outside of the door and Rex cursed under his breath as a shadow moved towards the entrance. Rex glared at Anakin for a few minutes before mouthing, ‘You owe me!’ and straightening.

“Mr. Fett?” Palpatine’s confused voice echoed off the stone walls, “What are you doing here? And all alone?”

“Sorry Professor,” Rex gave Palpatine a rather over the top concerned look, “It’s just, I haven’t seen Anakin since breakfast and he did mention he was thinking about coming to see you.”

“To see me?” The professor sounded a little more surprised than Anakin thought he should, but perhaps he was trying to avoid looking like he picked favorites, “Well I certainly haven’t seen him. I’ll keep an eye out, but I’m going to need to escort you outside with the other second years.”

Anakin winced, of course even Palpatine wouldn’t be willing to overlook a student wandering the halls without an escort. He’d have to bring Rex back something good from Hogsmeade.

“Alright, thank you Professor,” Rex nodded, although he didn’t look very thankful in Anakin’s opinion.

Their footsteps faded away, but still Anakin waited a minute longer before darting from the classroom himself.

He wandered the empty halls, being extra careful to listen and flicker his eyes to the map. Rex was a little more perceptive than he tended to be. Anakin certainly didn’t want to get caught, but at least he knew what story to go with if he did.

Finally, he reached the entrance of the tunnel, looking around carefully, he quickly slipped inside and hurried to close the entrance, plunging him into complete darkness.

Anakin pulled his wand out, lighting it with a, “Lumos Maxima,” They’d been working to improve their maximizing skills in charms recently and Anakin felt it was paying off. The tunnels were rather boring and unremarkable. He remembered them being pretty long, though he’d never made it all the way to the end the last time.

He took his time, kicking away rocks and humming softly. He still didn’t want to give his position away if there was someone scouting the tunnel for mischievous students, but boredom without Rex crept in fast.

He paused a moment at an odd noise and listened hard. It was a soft shuffling noise and despite the echo, it sounded like it was coming from behind him. Could it be another student trying the same thing he was? Unlikely, most of the houses were pretty locked down outside. He wasn’t sure why the professors had been so insistent on a supervised snow day, but most students went for it.

That left the possibility that he was about to be caught.

Letting the fear of boring evenings in detention spur him on, he picked up the pace until he was running rather swiftly. With the way his wand was swinging, the light bounced around enough to make him motion sick so he gave it a quiet, “Nox,” not letting up on the speed of which his shoes pounded the ground.

He slowed when he nearly tripped over something lying on the ground, but wasn’t quick enough to avoid running right into someone.

Anakin fell backwards with an, “oof,” He tried to catch his breath for a moment, “Sorry, Rabé,” He said softly standing up, “While I’ve got you, I’ve got a question for you. Lumos.”

His wand tip glowed again, revealing him face to face with a student’s face frozen in a scream. This was not Rabé. Anakin stumbled back, tripping on what felt like the fabric of a scarf, before he saw the glint of eyes reflecting the light off his wand.

Yellow. Bright yellow eyes narrowing as they realized they’d been caught. Anakin felt his heart leap in his chest. Fear filling his lungs, causing him to nearly choke on a scream. He heard the eyes take a step forward and he scrambled to his feet and fell into a sprint. His wand light faded as his concentration waned and he shoved it into his robes.

He shouldn’t be running from Maul, because that’s who it was, of course. He’d vowed revenge even if Qui-Gon always gave him that sad sort of look when he said it. He should be back there giving that kidnapper a piece of his mind. He was the Chosen One, it was his job to save everyone and take down the bad guys.

Even as these thoughts played in his mind, he continued to sprint, fear pushing him into overdrive. He nearly screeched again when he ran full tilt into something human knocking them both to the ground.

“Bloody hell!”

“Rex!” Anakin was relieved to find someone he knew, but it wasn’t enough to stop the adrenaline that had him back on his feet and pulling desperately on Rex’s arm to get him to move, “We have to go now!”

“Great, I just escape Palpatine only to get caught again. Who is it? Windu?” Anakin nearly growled at the slow pace Rex was moving at.

“It’s Maul! We have to go!” That was enough to get him moving.

They didn’t stop to even breathe again until they burst from the wall and right into Professors Palpatine and Qui-Gon who nearly got bowled over.

“What-” Qui-Gon looked ready to start a lecture and Palpatine even looked like he was ready to dole out a few point reductions, but Rex cut them off quickly.

“Anakin saw him!” Rex was pointing his wand at the entrance to the tunnel like Maul was about to come out right then and there for a fight.

“Saw who?” Palpatine asked head tilting to the side in curiosity and Anakin nearly spat the name out as he joined Rex in his battle stance.

“Maul.”

***

The deafening screech that stretched from Hogwarts through Hogsmeade with painful clarity was one that very few students attributed meaning to. It wasn’t unreasonable that students, particularly younger ones, immediately leapt into disorder, running hither and yon, terrified they were about to be dive-bombed. It was a horrible sight to see, even if it didn’t make his job all the more difficult.

Designed with the vocal cords of mandrakes, the emergency siren was only used in times of utter duress and was a means of warning students and faculty to return to Hogwarts at once. Historically, it hadn’t been officially sounded since the early twentieth century. Even still, prefects were always trained on what to do in the event of hearing the siren.

All the training in the world still didn’t fully prepare Obi-Wan for the very real visceral reaction that the ear-splitting sound brought. Of course, he could not spare a single moment to think, a tough reality for a Ravenclaw, and immediately moved forward with what he’d been taught: gather his house, ensure they were all in company, and get them back to the school.

While not given a direct message with it, everyone seemed to share the same thought as he did. There was only one true reason that the archaic alarm would be used right now accompanied by the dementors that jetted across the sky: Maul was close.

Not only close, but likely in their midst.

Shop owners wasted little time in evacuating their premises and battening down the hatches, effectively snuffing the warm glow of Hogsmeade in a singular swoop. His brain was busy scanning the hysterical crowd that was amid constant motion, searching for every and any blue-robed student that he might come across. It occurred to him now that there was perhaps more meaning to the explicitly placed Hogsmeade dress code than the professors led on to. It certainly made rounding up students a lot easier when they were color-coded.

Moving around on the ice-laden stone walkways? Less easy. He’d not only had to catch his own balance in his haste, but many other wobbly students. Even Satine’s elbow was caught by him a time or two, of which she spared no time to thank him, though he knew otherwise she would. She was just as stern as him in their mission, practically grabbing students and sliding them across the way to the huddle of other students, hardly blinking in the process.

It was with this goal in mind that he was able to develop a razor focus that practically tuned out the alarm. That, or the pounding in his ears did a decent job of it. Silently, he found the space to be relieved that Anakin was safe back at the castle with the other younger students.

It couldn’t have taken more than a couple of minutes to successfully corral all of the students that lingered about. It wasn’t as though any of them truly wanted to sneak off, after all. The horror on everyone’s faces spoke volumes of their concern.

Each of the prefects did their headcounts rapidly, trying not to dawdle for a moment longer than necessary, all praying they reached the same number they started with. He felt capable of breathing again when Ravenclaw reached that quota. Gryffindor prefects, it seemed, had forgotten to include themselves for a moment, which briefly induced a panic that was quickly assuaged by an irritated Mace Windu.

Perhaps it was a bit presumptuous to be relieved that Mace Windu and Kit Fisto were the supervising professors that day, but it certainly helped their odds to have experienced fighters of dark magic alongside them. The sky grew dark above them, not from the descending sun, but from the mere presence of the dementors swarming together like an ominous storm cloud.

No one looked back as they were ushered down through the storm cellar beneath Honeydukes, which remained open only at Windu’s order.

“Move quickly, don’t linger, don’t stop, don’t pause!” He ordered in a booming voice that didn’t even need to be amplified with a charm.

While Gryffindor’s prefects had nobly volunteered to lead the charge of students down and through the tunnel, the others remained on the side, performing last-minute counts to ensure all made it safely while urging them to hurry it up. No one seemed to have a problem with performing the latter, but some were getting a little rowdy in the process.

“Hey, hey, this is not an excuse to push or shove!” Satine chastised a few overeager Slytherins, “The only way this works is if you work together!”

She was right, of course, but Obi-Wan believed it was falling on deaf ears. They were terrified and rightfully so. Perhaps they shouldn’t have allowed the Hogsmeade trip to occur in the first place with everything going on. It was almost like they were trying to lure Maul in. If that was the case, it was a very sadistic choice.

Padmé Amidala as well as her friends had been some of the last people to filter in, surprisingly, and tears stained their cheeks.

“Keep it moving, ladies!” Kit Fisto ordered.

“We can’t find Rabé!” Sabé, the girl who looked most like Padmé, cried.

“I’m sure she’s here somewhere.” Windu said, “Slytherin house reported no missing students based on their earlier count. Now GO!”  

“She came later!” Padmé insisted, pushing back against the hands of Fenn Rau, who was trying to make them descend down the ladder. “We never saw her!”

“Then maybe she never came at all?” Satine tried.

“She came.” Padmé looked between both of them, “I know she did! She wouldn’t flake out on us like that. What if something horrible happened to her? What if-”

“-We can explore these possibilities back at Hogwarts.” Windu said, “If she is indeed missing, I will waste no time in coming back for her. I promise you.”

“That is already a waste of time!” Sabé protested, “What if she’s hurt?”

“I cannot risk all of you, including these prefects, for one possibly lingering student. I need to get you back to safety. The tunnels will be locked behind us.” Windu said and waved his wand to provide a gust of air, sending all of the girls down the tunnel against their own will. Satine looked horrified at the choice and frankly, so did Windu for a moment, before he began insisting the prefects follow.

For Obi-Wan, time began to slow down as his brain methodically and almost mechanically traced back through that day, desperately trying to recall if he’d seen Rabé. She stood out among Padmé’s friends in that she was the only Slytherin and yet it was still odd to see them apart. Before the alarm had turned the world on its head, it had been a rather mundane and peaceful day at Hogsmeade. The weather had been nice, if not quite nippy. He’d popped into Tomes & Scrolls with Satine while Cody lingered around Spintwitches, but none of them bought anything. If they had, surely, it would have been lost in the chaos with many other student’s purchases.

He’d debated getting a box of every flavor beans, since Hondo said he had a game of Russian Roulette, but with the beans, brewing. Cody seemed interested and it sounded like less of a consequential gaming experience than Hondo’s usual ventures. He wasn’t afforded the opportunity to go into Honeydukes, but…

Obi-Wan felt his heart stop altogether in his chest. He hadn’t gone into Honeydukes, but he almost did. And who was lingering by the butterbeer stand when he was busy deliberating with Cody?

Rabé.

He’d only caught a glimpse of her for a fraction of a second before he turned around. Clear as daylight and standing at the far end of Hogsmeade. There were other Slytherins around her, but like Padmé, her hair was always intricately woven and this made her stand out.

Where did she go so that none of her friends saw her?

“She was here today,” Obi-Wan lurched forward, grabbing Satine by the arm on instinct.

“How do you know?” She began to ask, eyes searching his own with growing concern.

“I saw her.” He said and then shoved against the stream of students that were still pouring down the tunnel.

“Ben,” It was her turn to grab him, “Wait!”

He didn’t wait, though. Instead, he slipped out of her grasp, which had been firm enough to take his robe with it, and pushed through the crowd. Windu, never the slouch, noticed him instantly and his eyes widened as he realized what Obi-Wan was trying to do. Unlike Padmé and the girls, he didn’t give him the opportunity to stop him, instead lunging forward and falling into an immediate sprint out the door- the cold wind whipping his face so hard that it caused tears to freeze in their wake.

He vaguely heard his name shouted from behind him, but he could only think of finding Rabé before it was too late. It might have been impulsive and it was definitely foolish, but he wouldn’t be able to leave with a clear conscience unless he did everything in his power to bring every student back safely. He understood that the professors needed to do their duty, but Obi-Wan was to be an auror someday. Running into the line of fire was surely a requirement of such a field.

All he could think of was how he knew what it was like to be forgotten. If there was even a small chance of preventing someone else from befalling that fate, he had to try.

Running across the slick stone walkway proved itself to be even more difficult than walking had, but Obi-Wan was utilizing the forward motion that the ice provided him for acceleration. The sky above him was almost completely black- as though Hogsmeade was at risk for being sucked into outer space. Suddenly, the cold that Obi-Wan felt no longer seemed to be as a result from the climate.

He’d studied dementors a good deal over the years and objectively understood how they drained a person from their hopes and dreams, removing the parts of them that basically made them human, but he realized then that he never really knew. He wasn’t even the target for these dementors and just being in their presence made him feel like all color was depleting from the landscape.

He forced himself through it, focusing on the task at hand and what purpose that gave him. He decided to slide by the (now closed) butterbeer stand at the end, where he’d last seen Rabé. After all, it was entirely possible that he was the last person to see her alive. That certainly didn’t give him much comfort.

He turned his head from side to side, trying with a last stitch effort to see if she’d taken refuge in one of the closed shops. The keepers were kind and would more than likely house a lost student during a crisis such as this.

As dread pooled deeper in the pit of his stomach and his body struggled to fight off the shaky chill that climbed its way up his spine, he dared to look up, noticing that the dementors were no longer searching, but swarming. The snowfall only seemed to thicken, which was rather unfortunate as Obi-Wan had to swipe his arm over his eyes several times to continue seeing.

They congregated at the Three Broomsticks- in front of which, Obi-Wan did not stop, but in his haste, did meet the bloodshot amber eyes of none other than the Dathomirian known as Maul. In their midst, Obi-Wan found he would rather embark on a lengthy stay with a dementor than look another second into the killer’s eyes. He was leaning back in his seat with casual aplomb and raised his stein of butterbeer as though in cheers or celebration, selling the chilling lack of regard for life with a cruel smile curling his black and red lips.

It was if he was saying, “I’ve won.”

Obi-Wan swallowed thickly and averted his gaze immediately, understanding that this might be his final moment. If that were so, he would use it wisely.

“No, you won’t.”

Maul’s smile broadened, resembling the actual devil as he did so.

Yes, Obi-Wan was definitely about to die.

However, the moment ended as quick as it started, for once the dementors dive bombed past Obi-Wan and straight for Maul, he flipped a galleon into the air and caught it, allowing himself to disappear to whatever rock he dragged himself from before.

Obi-Wan only thundered forward until he arrived at the end of the limits of the town, sighing deeply and wincing at the wreath of frost that circled his head as he caught his breath. He was immensely cold and with nothing to do about it and worse, began to feel quite defeated. Part of him wanted to rationalize that Rabé did likely go back to the castle. However, whether it was intuition or simply an unknown magic in the air, he could practically feel the presence of another.

Then, from the corner of his eyes, he noticed something poking out of the snow- just next to an old townhome, and drew closer. His steps were heavy and without hopeful anticipation as he regarded the gray fingers breaking through the massive snowdrift.

He knelt down slowly, and raised his wand to blow away the piles of snow and ice and used his hands to remove the last remnants on his own. Attached to the outstretched hand, which served as much as a warning as it did a signal of distress, was the petrified gray face of Rabé.

***

“You have to go back for him!” Satine demanded as she was practically carried by Fisto all the way back to Hogwarts. It had been the only way they were able to prevent her from slipping after Obi-Wan in a panic-induced gut-reaction. She believed he was an idiot for running off the way he did, but that wasn’t to say she didn’t understand the feeling.

“The dementors are mobilizing, Satine!” Windu turned on her with fire in his eyes, “Had Mr. Kenobi not been so uncharacteristically impetuous, we wouldn’t be here.”

“And there would still be a lost child out there!” She growled, not usually one to ever speak to a professor so brazenly, but this was Obi-Wan they were talking about, and she would always be a bit irrational when it came to him. “It doesn’t seem like anyone really cares about that though!”

“Not care? I would lay down my life for every single one of you. Do you think it pleases me to know that not one, but two students could be suffering at the hands of that animal on my watch?” Windu said hotly, “But I cannot jeopardize the dementors potentially catching a murderous sociopath. Obi-Wan would not want me to do that!”

She knew deep in her bones that he was right, but she didn’t take to it any better, instead feeling bile rise up her throat- only subdued by the way it seemed to constrict at the wretched thought of losing her best friend. The cold weight of pure dread settled on her chest, evaporating her fury and nearly suffocating all logical thought.

Nearly.

She turned on her heels back to Ravenclaw house, who were staring at her with a mixture of sympathy and shock. Satine knew she had the capacity to lose her patience, but she tried to always do so with some semblance of professionalism.

“We’ll go find him ourselves then!” Cody, equally as heated as she had been, raged alongside Echo and Fives. All were still dressed for the winter and had their wands at the ready.

“You will do no such thing.” Professor Fisto pulled Cody back by the arm, “Headmaster Yoda is the only one who can save your friend now.”

“What was the point of teaching us all that stuff if we aren’t going to use it?” Cody fired.

“In the event that there is an inescapable situation, Cody.” Fisto said, “I commend your bravery, but there is a line between courage and stupidity.”

“So, that’s it?” Echo chimed in, “We’re just going to run and hide every time a bad guy comes knocking on our door?”

“Yeah, you’re supposed to teach us defense against the dark arts!” Fives added, “I’d say Maul qualifies.”

“Maul is much more than any of you can understand or handle.” Windu’s voice no longer spoke with anger, but from a deep place that teetered on remorse and pity. There was a defeated look in his eyes that Satine would never forget, as though Maul had already won.

“Glad you’ve all been effectively wasting our time then.” Cody snarled, “Propping us up and making us feel as though we’re really doing something all year. What has all of this been? Some show for the Ministry?”

A few other Gryffindors pooled around him and it occurred to Satine just then that if Cody hadn’t been so set on pursuing Quidditch as a career, that he’d make a mighty fine commanding officer. People rallied behind him. They believed in him.

She just wished that call to order wasn’t coming from a place of wishing to fight a dark lord.

“Cody, I highly recommend that you stand down.” Fisto said, “I get that you’re upset, but we need to remain calm. Take your brothers back to the Great Hall and wait for further instructions.”

Cody was teeming with anger- she could tell just looking at him and for a moment, she feared he was going to act brashly. Windu seemed to think the same thing judging by the appraising look he gave him.

He didn’t move, but he did send Echo and Fives back with the Gryffindor prefects and the rest of the house. The other houses and their respective prefects trickled afterwards, each going to the Great Hall for what was surely to be another lockdown.

“Great, another sleepover.” Fives huffed as he went.

“Yeah, telling ghost stories by candlelight altogether will surely keep us safe.” Echo complained under his breath.

“I thought I said-” Fisto began.

“-I’m not leaving until Kenobi is found.” Cody said, “Dead or alive.”

“Don’t you dare talk like that.” She seethed, grabbing his attention instantly and Cody, to his credit, did appear riddled with guilt at her reaction.

“Sorry.” He muttered.

“I expect this level of irrationality from Cody.” Windu said and eyed Satine, “But not you.”

“I’m not leaving either.” She said, clutching Obi-Wan’s robe tightly between clenched fists, “Consequences be damned.”

Where she thought there would be retribution or even more yelling, there was not. Fisto, of the two of them, actually appeared more upset. Windu, instead, nodded slightly. It seemed he understood that this was a battle he would not be winning today.

Satine scanned the area, remembering someone very curious to be missing from the pack. As if it were possible, more horror gnawed at her nerves, “Where’s Anakin?”

That was Maul’s whole purpose for scouting out the school, right?

Windu grimaced, “He did try to sneak out to Hogsmeade earlier.”

Her eyes widened, “But he’s alright?”

“It is to my understanding that young Skywalker is with Professor Jinn.” Palpatine swerved around the corner, dark cloaks flowing behind him dramatically as he reconvened with the professors, “Any update on Maul?”

“No,” Windu said tartly, “But seeing as our students have been debating on staging a coup, it might have been useful to have your presence, Professor.”

The tension, as it was, seemed unbreakable.

“My apologies, Professor Windu, but I will say these students have the right to be upset. All of our efforts to protect the school have thus far failed.” Palpatine said.

Satine also couldn’t blame everyone for being upset. In their effort to make everyone feel safe, they only propped them up with delusions of grandeur. There was a fine line to walk between keeping the student body informed and propagating debilitating fear- at least in this predicament.

“You’re here now.” Fisto said, “That’s what counts.”

Satine wasn’t so sure, but then again, Maul hadn’t broken in yet.

“Surely, it’s not wise to have students so close to the entrance.” Palpatine said.

“Yes, well, it also wasn’t wise to allow Anakin so close to your Vitamix potion.” Windu countered, “I guess we’re all doing things a bit differently right now.”

Palpatine seemed properly slapped by that, because there was little argument that could be brought up to counter the comment. That was, indeed, what happened and it left the school wide open for possible attack.

“Yoda should be back any minute.” Fisto paced the floor, his wet boots making a squeaking noise as he did so, “And hopefully, he has good news.”

“If not?” Cody asked.

“If not, we might have to help him and if that’s the case, you two will stay back.” Windu ordered.

Even Cody didn’t argue with that logic.

Not but a moment later, erratic banging came from the metal door, growing more desperate as the seconds went on. Palpatine leaned forward as if to open it and Fisto grabbed his wrist before he could perform the charm.

“There’s a password.” Fisto said.

“And why would Maul just come knocking on the front door?” Palpatine scoffed.

“Maul is anything but conventional.” Windu reasoned.

Cody and Satine looked between each other as the three professors deliberated. They were beginning to understand why it sometimes felt like it took forever for anything to get done. No one could agree on the simplest things.

“What if it’s Ben?” Satine stepped forward, “You’ve said it yourself that the tunnels are blocked off now.”

“Yoda would have found him and brought him back by apparition.” Fisto said.

“And if he didn’t?”

Windu opened his mouth to respond, but then from a familiar voice, “HELLO THERE? IS ANYONE THERE?”

She glared between the three professors, who were all a bit dumbstruck as they hastily moved to open the door. As it swung open unceremoniously, her heart resumed beating as Obi-Wan Kenobi, pale, drenched and speckled with snowflakes, practically fell through the entryway.

She moved on instinct rather than thought and caught him in a tight hug, combatting the sharp chill that traveled up her spine at his frigid body with the warm relief that he was alive. She only removed herself enough to tightly wrap his robe around his shoulders before pulling him closer.

“Get him some blankets!” Windu ordered while Palpatine was simultaneously brewing a warm beverage from thin air. Satine, for her part, could not let go.

“N-nice t-to see you t-too.” He shivered and did not reject the warm contact.

“You’re an idiot, Obi-Wan Kenobi.” She muttered into his shoulder, but it really didn’t have as much fire as she would have liked it to- not when he looked so pitiful with wet hair in his face, teeth chattering, and a nose and cheeks red from the cold.

“I’m aware.” He said.

“You could have been killed!”

“I know.”

“And you really couldn’t have at least brought your robe with you if you were going to go running off on a deadly mission?”

“You’re right.”

“Stop agreeing with me!” She leaned back and glared at him.

“My apologies,” He smiled ruefully, but it faded almost instantly, “All the trouble I’ve caused, I’m afraid it was for nothing.”

“What do you mean?” Fisto cut in.

“I saw him.” Obi-Wan’s voice was hollow when he said it. His eyes became downcast as he reminisced, “And Rabé. I couldn’t move her on my own… She was frozen in carbonite.”

Windu cursed, scrubbing a hand over his bald head, “And Maul?”

“Gone.” Obi-Wan said, “He used a portkey before the dementors could get to him.”

***

The dementors separated like parting clouds, allowing for remnants of dwindling sunlight to cast a yellow beam onto Hogsmeade. Even with the sunset behind it, the usually buzzing and quaint town looked barren without the lively folk that inhabited it. It was to their best interest to hide, of course, and he knew that once this awful storm passed, they would return again. Yoda moved slowly through the snow, feet unbothered by the crunch of the ice beneath him.

He had no doubt that Maul was here, but held equal assurance that he no longer was. His protective charms were supposed to stop people from getting in, not out.

He grimaced as he knelt to the Slytherin girl’s motionless body- frozen in time with a horrific expression painting her features. She would need to join the growing group that took up beds in Madame Nema’s hospital wing. He just hoped with everything in him that they could make this right.

It tugged at his heart that children always seemed to be the ones to suffer for the choices of adults. This one was not excluded as Yoda and the other professors deemed that it would be safe.

It should have been safe.

He cursed as he thought back to the extensive lengths he’d gone to in protecting the school. He was exhausted, constantly firing off on all cylinders to keep this place safe. Even Hogsmeade hadn’t been exempt from his reach.

Well it had, but it seemed the small window of Maul’s murder in Diagon Alley to Yoda waking up from the botched Vitamix potion was the hole he’d crawled through. The dementors hadn’t detected him, which was a whole other concern that he would need to investigate at a later time.

There were so many ways that they failed.

Yes, well, this girl’s parents will not enjoy a meager response like that, so he ought to think of something better. Either way, he would not be sleeping well for his hubris. Maul might not storm the castle with his being there, but he was not above dancing around it. He was boxed out for now, but there was only so much that could be done. He had managed to convince them to disallow apparition for the time being without Ministry approval. This combined with the monitorization of the Floo network, limited Maul significantly.

However, there were always portkeys, which was the most secure way for a person in hiding to quickly transport. You didn’t need a license for it and you didn’t even leave a trace on your wand in the process.

It seemed Maul was getting significant joy from toying with them by instilling fear. It was just like a dark wizard to play on people’s emotions as such.

And yet…

He looked back down at the girl with a different sort of befuddlement. Not that he was complaining, but why hadn’t he killed her? Was it because it would have drawn too much attention for his liking? That didn’t seem right, though, because he had no problem murdering the guards at Azkaban or that store owner on Diagon Alley. Why utilize this mysterious alternative method now?

It hadn’t been the first time, obviously. There was the first official occurrence in December, not to mention the carbon remnants found in Shmi Skywalker’s flat, and Obi-Wan and Satine’s discovery at the Shrieking Shack.

Maul had certainly developed a predilection for the long con in his time locked away in Azkaban. Yoda would say it was out of character if he didn’t understand how much a man could change from trauma. He’d seen it in his own face and he’d seen it in many other’s. Maul didn’t want to mess up this time. He wanted his target and he wanted it done right.

But why Anakin Skywalker? Surely, Maul didn’t buy into the Chosen One prophecy. And if he did, why the sudden malevolence towards the boy? Nothing from the ancient texts seemed to make any reference to Maul in the slightest. It wouldn’t have affected him in Azkaban.

Would it?

As Yoda waved his wand once to lift the casket of carbon from the ground to float aimlessly behind him, he turned back towards the castle, realizing not for the first time that the more he learned, the more he had to ask.

***

“We were worried you became a popsicle out there,” Cody said as he took off his own robe and coat to also wrap around Obi-Wan. They all sat in the Great Hall with the rest of the student body, each positioned on their own sleeping bag as they faced each other. Despite having been inside for over an hour, Obi-Wan still clutched the blankets that were given to him tightly and didn’t reject Cody’s addition to the pile.

“I’m sure he was more concerned about seeing Maul.” Satine said.

“I’m sure he was.” Ventress sauntered by with her trademark smirk painted on her black-stained lips.

“Come off it, Ventress,” Cody scowled, “Kenobi wouldn’t lie about such a thing. Dementors were there too.”

“They’ve been here the entire time, Fett.” Ventress said, “How many false scares have there been? I’m beginning to believe it’s all conspiracy, myself.”

“It’s that level of thinking that’s going to get someone seriously injured.” Satine said, “Or worse.”

“Maybe then someone will start to take legitimate action,” She sighed almost dreamily, like she was fantasizing about the possibility.

“And I suppose Rabé basically turning to stone was just nothing.” Cody barked.

“A pity, truly.” She inspected her fingernails, which were actually quite noticeably jagged and cracked with chipped black polish, “Have we not noticed that every victim has been pureblood? You don’t hear the Ministry talking about that, of course.”

“What are you getting at?” Satine growled.

“I’m just saying, Duchess,” Ventress displayed her best pout, which coming from her, still had all the appearances of a cat ready to pounce, “I would hate to see a group marginalized by their blood type.”

“Listen here, Ventress-” She clutched his sleeping bag tightly and was surely ready to fire off on a meaningful tangent of her own, but was interrupted by the sound of barreling footsteps coming their way.

Anakin and Rex came sprinting down the aisle and slid onto their knees towards where they sat. Anakin, for his part, skidded right into Obi-Wan and nearly knocked him over by the velocity at which he traveled.

“Where have you two been?” Cody asked.

“We were with Qui-Gon!” Anakin said and looked around to Obi-Wan, “Fives just told us about what happened at Hogsmeade and I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Obi-Wan’s heart melted at the thought of Anakin’s concern and ruffled his hair, “Not a scratch on me.”

Anakin nodded in relief, “That’s good. It’s crazy that we both saw Maul today and he didn’t even do anything to either of us!”

Obi-Wan, Satine, Cody, and the briefly forgotten Ventress all snapped their attention towards Anakin in surprise.

“I’m sorry, what?” Satine was the first to speak.

“When and where did you see Maul?” Cody followed shortly behind.

“And you lived?” It was unclear whether Ventress was surprised or disappointed.

Obi-Wan, in all fairness, was still processing the small twelve year old boy, who presumably alone, faced the bloodthirsty killer that had it out for him. He knew he must have looked horrified, because Anakin’s own worry seemed to grow by just looking at Obi-Wan.

“I’m okay!” He said first, knowing that this was the most important thing, “And for the record, it wasn’t my fault.”

“It was a little your fault.” Rex winced.

“Rex! You’re supposed to be on my side!” Anakin whined.

“What did you do?” Obi-Wan pinched his brow.

“I already told Qui-Gon and he promised me immunity and while I don’t know for sure what that means, I’m pretty sure it means you’re not allowed to get mad.”

“That’s not what it means.” He said.

“Well, then, who’s got a decent ghost story to share?” He tried, looking around to each of them, “Ventress? I’m sure you’ve got some just by looking in a mirror every day.”

“Anakin…”

“Fine…” He sighed, “I… Might have sort of tried to go give Padmé her Valentine.”

“Of all the foolish and impulsive things to do!” Obi-Wan roared instantly.

“You said you wouldn’t get mad!”

“No I did not!” He snapped, “Do you not realize how incredibly dangerous that was? And the kind of risk you were putting yourself at? What would have happened if he had gotten you? I swear, I know you’re young but you need to think in terms of the long-”

“-Mate, not sure you are in the best position to be giving that lecture today.” Cody said, “Seeing as you also ran right into Maul’s clutches.”

“Yeah, really!” Anakin defended, “I heard all about what you did!”

“To save someone!” Obi-Wan rounded on his friend, “Not to retrieve a pretty trinket for a girl I fancy!”

“Based on your taste that’s a good thing.” Ventress scoffed.

Satine, who was admittedly calmer than Obi-Wan, frowned and looked at Anakin, “What happened?”

“If I’m allowed to continue.” He said pointedly before going on, “I wasn’t actually going to go to Hogsmeade. Believe it or not, I’m not completely stupid.”

“You just said-” Obi-Wan’s voice cracked.

“-Ben, let him finish.” Satine admonished.

“Thank you,” Anakin nodded and the kid really had the nerve to look smug, “I wasn’t going to Hogsmeade, but Rabé was and believe it or not, I get nervous too sometimes. I wasn’t sure I would have the nerve to give it to her in person, so I was going to ask Rabé if she could give it to Padmé for me. So, I used the map to follow her, obviously, and was never going to leave the tunnel system. But then about halfway through, I saw him.”

“Maul?” Cody asked in awe.

“No, the boogeyman. Yes, Maul.” Rex rolled his eyes.

“Seems like the same thing to me,” Ventress yawned, clearly unimpressed, “Seeing as Maul can’t be in two places at once, I would say one of you is lying.”

“I’m not lying!” Anakin asserted and looked to Obi-Wan, “And he’s not either.”

“Rabé didn’t just turn to carbonite on her own.” Obi-Wan said.

Anakin’s eyes widened, “He got Rabé too?”

“What do you mean too?” Satine asked.

“I mean, Tiplee was also frozen in carbonite down in the tunnels. I only managed to get away because I must have caught him off guard. I ran as fast as I could.” He patted his pockets, “Dang! I think I dropped the map in the process. Again.”

“Seriously, no more of those for you.” Satine said.

“Not like it’ll be of much use now that Yoda is closing the tunnels again.” Cody said.

“That’s horrible.” Obi-Wan frowned and stroked his chin thoughtfully, “But I wonder why he wouldn’t have come into the school.”

“He’s afraid of Yoda.” Ventress scowled, “Everyone knows that, but clearly, he’s a fool to be leaving all of these little clues around.”

“There’s got to be a bigger plan at play here.” Satine said.

“Like what? Two Maul’s?” Ventress rolled her eyes, “I could see the creep going after Skywalker as that is clearly his primary intent, but Kenobi? Who would bother to go after someone who cowered at his own shadow at one point?”

The particular incident that Ventress was alluding to happened when they were only five years old, he might add, but even in his head it didn’t pack the same impact that she wanted it to. Instead, Obi-Wan flashed her a disapproving look.

“Rabé is a member of your house.” He pointed out, “I didn’t see you running back to save her.”

“Actually, I didn’t see you at all.” Satine added.

Ventress, nonplussed, rolled her eyes dramatically, “Good to know the two of you are still conjuring nonsense that would rival The Quibbler, but if you must know, I was tutoring in the library.”

“Wait a second,” Obi-Wan allowed some of the blanket to slide off of him when he sat up straighter, trying his best to suppress a shiver that immediately followed. He was grateful that Satine set it back into place, “Don’t tell me you’re Hondo’s tutor.”

Ventress furrowed her brow, “Be wary of the tone, Kenobi. My marks often rival your own.”

She wasn’t wrong. Horrible personality aside, Ventress was an exemplary student. Like him, she sort of had to be, given the reputation their respective families upheld.

“I wasn’t underestimating your intelligence,” He said, because he wasn’t a total fool, “But I never took you for a good samaritan.”

“Surely, he’s paying her.” Satine groaned as she leaned back on her hands.

“I don’t need the money, muggle-born.” She hissed.

“Since when has galleons been his only form of currency?” Satine shrugged, “Everyone has a price, is all I’m saying.”

“Fools,” Ventress shook her head as she walked away, “All of you.”

“Yeah, well, when you turn to stone, it’ll match your heart.” Anakin said and stood up, “I’m going to go apologize to Padmé.”

Obi-Wan watched him sadly as he walked over to where the crestfallen group of usually chipper girls huddled together. At least they were able to comfort each other in this trying time. Obi-Wan looked to Cody and Satine, who were both wearing a considerable amount of concern on their features.

He knew their responsibilities as older students and prefects, alike, were only going to rise as the fear and sense of danger increased. Anakin had nearly come to his end if he hadn’t been so quick on his feet. He supposed those dueling classes did have their uses if implemented properly. As it were, Maul would likely not make the same mistake twice.

***

The atmosphere was much more subdued than most Quidditch mornings. Even Cody found himself sitting quietly across from where Obi-Wan was falling asleep over a plate of pancakes. Ventress was the only one not subdued, she was glaring around at her team, snarling at anyone not paying attention to her. He didn’t think she’d get very far with an attitude like that. As captain, sometimes the best thing you could do was read the mood of your teammates.

Obi-Wan’s head dropped forwards almost landing in the syrup before Satine managed to pull him back without even a glance over. He blinked, looking around like he hadn’t even been aware they were in the Great Hall in the first place.

“Might want to eat something, mate,” Cody suggested, gesturing to his plate that he seemed surprised was loaded even if he had done it himself.

“Right,” He did so without another word. Satine looked fairly volatile this morning, having woken up extremely early for a morning patrol so there wasn’t much conversation for them to be had. He was tired too, having been picking up a few patrols of his own. Palpatine’s accidental sleeping potion may have been an unfortunate idea, but a few extra hands that could take on prefect duties were still welcomed. It’s not like Cody could say no after watching his friends be run ragged.

“You sure you’re going to be awake enough to stay on a broom?” Cody asked as they both watched a piece of pancake fall slowly off his fork. Obi-Wan just nodded looking up with a sigh.

“We’re all tired,” He nodded towards where Koth had passed out at the breakfast table. Aayla and Cin were awake enough to doodle on his face so it maybe wasn’t the entire team, “Hopefully this will make for a short game.”

“Hopefully,” He nodded, but he wasn’t sure he was honest in his statement. Ventress was looking especially poisonous this morning and wouldn’t take anything sitting down, “Maybe we shouldn’t be playing anyways.”

Obi-Wan and Satine both looked at him like he’d just grown a second head and he met their looks with a glare.

“Who are you and what have you done with Cody?” Kenobi squinted at him as if checking to make sure he hadn’t been cursed.

“I think hell must have frozen over,” Satine added with a nod, “I never thought I’d hear Cody Fett, not want anything to do with Quidditch.”

“Hey! Woah!” He shook his head quickly, “I never said that.”

They both raised an eyebrow at him and he rolled his eyes.

“Even I am not enough of a sports fan to look past the elephant in the room,” He jabbed his fork at them, “Maul’s close and we’re just going to take the whole school outside? Again? Plus, morale is down,” Instead of gesturing to the two obvious examples in front of him, he pointed to Koth, who had just woken up and hadn’t figured out why everyone was laughing at him yet.

“When you put it that way...” Obi-Wan flicked his eyes to the professors, who were desperately trying to keep warm inviting facades. He took a sip of pumpkin juice.

“Why go through all this trouble for such a barbaric game anyways,” Satine glowered, “We need a break from potential violence not more.”

Cody knew explaining the dynamics of Quidditch would not change her mind any so he kept his own thoughts to himself on the matter. He thought of Quidditch as a much needed break most of the time. But it was hard to deny the fact that only a few people would be having a good time today and that wasn’t how he felt a healthy Quidditch environment should be.

The screech of an owl alerted everyone to the arrival of the morning mail. It was always a little hectic, but it didn’t stop them from being able to spot one of their three owls if it chose to show up. The only owl Cody could recognize was a large tawny one. Well manicured and, if memory served, sharp talons. Obi-Wan barely avoided getting his letter dropped on his head, his hand flicked up to catch the falling parchment with deft precision. As most letters from his parents, he was careful to shield it so Satine couldn’t see, something that always had her frustrated despite knowing that it was fair given the nature of these letters.

Obi-Wan read the whole thing in lightning speed, eyebrows furrowing the further he got, although he nodded before swiftly depositing it on the table next to his plate. His owl swooped down again landing on his head causing him to wince.

“Alright message received,” He tried to pick up the pesky owl, but it looked rather indignant to be manhandled. Still because he was gentle and fed him a bit of breakfast, the owl allowed itself to be set on his arm, “Tell them they’re early,” He tried saying it quietly enough so neither of them would hear, unfortunately they were both rather intune to his voice. If an owl could show emotions, which Cody had, up until this moment thought untrue, Obi-Wan’s owl would look almost melancholic for a moment. A hard thing to do for a bird that had permanent angry eyebrows colored into its feathers.

It took off in a hurry, nearly taking off a few heads as it went and disappeared back into the flock it had arrived with.

“What did they say?” Satine asked, as she usually did, but he just shrugged.

“Nothing out of the ordinary,” He gave her a smile, but she frowned.

“That never makes me feel better,” She told him sternly. He just shrugged.

There was a loud pop and they all looked up to see Palpatine and Qui-Gon standing at the head of the Great Hall, the two of them would be escorting both teams outside and to the pitch. It was best to have an experienced teacher at the helm and who better than those who had earned their titles as Heads of House.

Obi-Wan stood swiftly, accepting their well wishes and good lucks, before falling into line behind Eeth. Satine was watching them leave with narrowed eyes and Cody wasn’t sure what was going on, but she certainly looked much more focused than earlier. She slid her hand across the table, snatching the note from where he’d left it, clearly for the trash pile, and spread it open.

“Should you do that?” He asked even if he was curious himself, he wasn’t about to get accused of reading other people’s mail.

“It’s a suspicious piece of parchment I found unattended,” She lied as she peered down at it. Her nose scrunched up in disgust as she read it just loud enough for him to hear.

“Obi-Wan Kenobi,

As you are about to turn 17, we remind you once again of your duties and expectations. In one year you will turn 18 and we’ll discuss then your future. Despite your best attempts to undermine our plans we will do what we can to work around your failure.

Don’t expect a gift this year, you received one last year and we’ll be happy to give you one when you turn 20. Consider continuing to go to school despite your constant disappointments gift enough.

-Mother”

Cody felt the grip on his fork tighten as he stared a hole through the paper. A correspondence with Obi-Wan’s family really was never pleasant, but did they have to be so outwardly despicable? What surprised him most was the excitement lighting up Satine’s eyes as she read the letter over again.

“Brilliant!” She grinned and he practically snapped his fork in half.

“What’s so brilliant about those two bastards continuing to tighten the noose around his neck?” Cody growled and Satine looked up, having the decency to look aghast.

“Oh heavens no,” She looked sick at the thought, “That’s not what I was referring to at all. How could you think-?”

“-How could I not? Maybe hell is freezing over,” He ran a hand down his face as she rummaged around in her bag before shoving plates and goblets out of the way, nearly toppling a few over. She set down a massive book-like object with a white exterior and silver rings. It was full to the brim with pages and she opened it up excitedly.

“It’s a binder,” She told him at his look before moving on to what must have been the important thing at hand, “You know how Ben’s rather dodgy about his birthday?” Cody nodded, “Well I’ve been tracking him ever since 2nd year,” She flipped around in the binder and Cody could see so many color-coded graphs it made his head spin.

“You did this? For what?”

“If he won’t tell us, I’ll find out on my own,” She glared sternly at a picture of Ben that blinked up at her from the page, “That’s what I told him,” She flipped through it, pointing at various sections, “I was able to surmise that his parents tend to have a letter pattern. They only send him mail on major holidays or if he’s done something they disapprove of.”

“When is that not the case,” He muttered.

“I was able to narrow it down after a few years to February or March,” She was in the back of the book now where a calendar full of crossed out dates sat, “It was confusing, sometimes they sent him a letter end of February like this one,” She waved the letter at him, “Sometimes it was in March. This is the first time I’ve been able to read one,” She grinned proudly tucking the letter into the back pocket for evidence purposes.

“What good does that do? They didn’t say what day it was,” Cody studied the calendar in interest.

“It does a lot of good!” She pulled a fancy highlighter from her bag, “He said they were early, meaning it can’t be any of these dates,” She ran her finger through most of the month. They only had a few days left until March though, maybe she’d figured out the month, “Most importantly!” She looked at him face as serious as it was when she was taking her OWLs, “They said they got him a gift last year-”

“Yeah a ruddy gift,” Cody frowned, “What good is an antique quill if it doesn’t even work?”

“I agree,” She said impatiently, “That’s not the point. They said they’d get him another one when he turned 20. He turned 16 last year-”

“Your point?” Cody was beginning to get lost and would rather she hurry up her point than leave him thinking.

“He doesn’t have a birthday this year at all!” She announced and Cody straightened, staring at her in shock.

“Well that’s not possible!” He declared, “Everyone has a birthday once a year! Even those who don’t care much like Kenobi.”

“It is possible!” She grinned proudly drawing a line on her calendar right between the 28th of February and the 1st of March, “He was born on February 29th! A leap year!”

Cody blinked. That actually made a lot of sense. Kenobi wasn’t a liar and he was sure he’d asked about specific days and been told he was wrong. He’d only seen Kenobi get a birthday present their first year (a pack of gobstones) and their fifth year (the aforementioned broken antique quill). Cody had just figured they wouldn’t ever figure it out unless he told them himself, so he usually just tried to get him a good Christmas present every year. He had noticed Satine had started to give him a present around this time of year, but now they had the exact day.

“Does this mean his parents use that as an excuse to never get him anything?” He frowned and Satine angered instantly.

“I’m almost shocked they haven’t forgotten the date themselves.”

“So,” Cody looked at the little highlighted line indicating the fruition of 5 years of work, “What are we doing about it?”

***

“I still say we should have gone with March 1st,” Cody said from where he was balanced rather precariously on a ladder taping the end of a streamer, “Then we’d be celebrating him having turned 17.”

Satine, who was holding onto the ladder to make sure she didn’t have to take anyone to the hospital wing today, glared up at him, “Absolutely not! He has a February birthday, we’re celebrating it in February. Otherwise he’s going to assume we’ve forgotten it!”

“He doesn’t even know we know it,” Cody rationalized, but came down from the ladder anyways to admire his work with her.

“Alright,” She looked down reading her list. She’d had years to plan this event, he’d never had a party before that she knew of and she wanted it to be perfect, “We’ve got the streamers and the balloons. The guests have been told what time to arrive...” She checked off the boxes as she went, “Can I trust you to go and get the cake without dropping it?” She looked up at her friend and he grinned giving her a thumbs up.

“Oh yeah definitely,” It didn’t instill in her a lot of hope, but he was at least eager to do it.

“Alright go, but hurry!” She checked the time off the clock in the corner. “They’ll be here soon.”

“On it!” He saluted her and raced out the door.

Satine observed her surroundings once more. They’d chosen an empty classroom rather than something elaborate like the Great Hall or too intimate like Qui-Gon’s office. She’d gotten approval, Qui-Gon was to arrive any minute now to supervise. He’d been the only professor she could think of that would understand how important this was to do. She was sure if she’d talked to Windu or even Headmaster Yoda, she’d have gotten shot down before she even began. Qui-Gon knew about Ben’s family though and like her, seemed to want to give him the best experience he could.

There was a spot for the cake on the teacher’s desk as well as plates, utensils, and napkins. The ceiling was practically drowning in streamers of all different colors and balloons were floating around aimlessly. Her and Cody’s presents to him were sitting in a neat pile on a couple of tables pushed together. She hoped he’d get a few more, but hadn’t explicitly said anything on the invitations. It was rather short notice after all.

“You’ve done a wonderful job,” She turned to see Qui-Gon in the doorway. He was holding a colorfully wrapped package which she gratefully took from him placing it on the table next to the other.

“Do you think it’s too much?” The last thing she wanted to do was overwhelm him, but she’d learned over the years it was hard to figure out what would.

“I’m sure we could all do with a little cheeriness,” He said in lieu of answering. Maybe he didn’t know any better than she did.

It didn’t take much more time before the students she’d invited began to arrive. The entirety of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team poured in along with Stass. They’d been a little downtrodden at being beat so terribly by Slytherin, but seemed happy enough to be there. The clones were the next to arrive with Anakin in tow. Anakin proudly added his gift to the stack before going back over to Rex.

Cody arrived again, loudly kicking in the door gingerly holding the cake. It hadn’t gotten squashed which she was thankful for. Behind him was Breha and Bail, both levitating trays of food and a bowl of punch, letting them settle into place on a row of desks.

More prefects appeared as well as a few other students. Hondo had seemed rather pleased to have been invited, but Satine was a little worried about what he had possibly brought as a present. Soon the room was pretty full and Satine shushed everyone as well as she could without shouting.

“Alright I’m going to get Ben,” She announced, “Be ready.”

“Yes ma’am!” The Fett’s all saluted her and the others in the room nodded keeping their chatter to a minimum.

***

Obi-Wan was growing a little concerned. Satine had been the one to ask him to meet her in the library, but she had yet to appear. He’d kept himself occupied with his textbooks, but he was tempted to go out and look for her. It was no sooner than he closed his textbook and stood that she rounded the corner looking rather flustered.

“Sorry I’m late,” She panted as she flipped her hair back and out of her face. It was down today, which was becoming a bit of a rarity and he smiled.

“It’s no trouble,” He said sitting back down, “Was there something in particular you wanted to work on? I’ve already finished my essays, but I can help you with yours.”

“Actually,” She was fidgeting nervously and he gazed up at her in concern, “I was hoping you wouldn’t mind if we went on a walk first.”

“A walk?” That was an unusual request.

“Yes I- I just think it would be nice, don’t you?” Well, he was hard pressed to deny her anything. Especially something as simple as a walk around the castle.

“Alright,” He agreed, sliding his text book back into his bag. She was scrutinizing him and he looked down to make sure his clothes were straightened, because the last time he’d gotten that look his fly had been undone. Rather embarrassing.

He looked up again, starting in surprise, when he felt a hand in his hair. She gave him an apologetic look as she stepped back.

“Sorry, your hair was messed up,” She told him and he felt his face warm slightly, but she just coughed awkwardly and started walking. He ran to catch up.

He couldn’t help, but to run his own hands through his hair, just to ensure that it wasn’t still a mess, “It’s fine Ben,” She told him as she walked just far enough ahead to force him to follow her path.

“I didn’t think you minded much if it was messy,” He said instead of removing his hands.

“I don’t, I just-” Satine cut herself off with a shake of her head. Obi-Wan was confused, but let his hands finally drop to his sides.

“Well alright?” He wasn’t sure what else to say. She was acting off and he couldn’t pinpoint it. Maybe she was upset? But she didn’t look it. Even if she was, the library was perfectly quiet that evening. His heart beat a little faster in his chest as he remembered another time the two of them had been alone, the Christmas party. Did she- were they going to talk about it? He wasn’t sure he knew what to say about such things.

“Ben?” He looked up at his name and she was frowning at him, “Are you alright? You look pale.”

“I’m completely fine,” He confirmed, “Are you?”

“Yes?” Maybe they were both acting a little off this evening.

“Good,” He smiled at her and she returned it easily.

She turned then and walked towards the door of an empty classroom, disappearing inside. What on earth could she want with him in an empty classroom?

He refused to lose her though and quickened his pace until he was pulling the door open only to be assaulted by many loud cheers. It took him a moment to register what they were saying in the first place.

“Happy Birthday!”

His birthday? He blinked, taking in the scene. Many of his close friends were there, his Quidditch team, Anakin, Qui-Gon. All of them were standing there watching him which made him more than a little nervous. The ceiling was decorated in nearly every color of the rainbow and it was complete with balloons. He gripped the strap of his bag, unsure what was expected of him. He certainly had never had a party for himself before.

“Happy Birthday, mate!” Cody appeared in front of him practically dragging him into the room and pushing him towards the professor’s desk. It broke the tension in the room and chatter resumed much to his relief. There were less eyes on him.

“Uhm, thank you,” He managed a smile.

“Look at your cake! We had it made special.”

He looked down in surprise at a white cake decorated with 17 silver candles. Written in delicate blue icing was, “Happy Birthday Obi-Wan!” He’d never had his own birthday cake before, but he’d seen them when Satine or Cody had celebrated theirs. It was kind of them to think of him, he just wished he knew the proper way to respond. The parties he attended usually had scripts to follow and he had never been instructed for one like this.

“It’s chocolate,” Satine’s hand landed right next to his on the desk and he looked up catching her eyes, “I know it’s your favorite.”

“It is,” he agreed almost solemnly.

“Do you like it?” She asked and he nodded quickly, his face heating up, how rude that he hadn’t immediately offered them a thank you.

“Yes of course! I- Thank you,” He told them both seriously, “I’m sorry, I’m just not at all sure how I’m supposed to react.” Satine’s eyes flashed sadly at him for a moment before it was gone and she smiled at him softly, bumping her fingers into his.

“You can react however you’d like,” She assured him, “Yell at me that you hate it for all I care,” He took a step back and nearly tripped over Cody at the insinuation.

“Absolutely not, I’ll treasure it!” He vowed with a stern expression and she laughed a little, it was a sound he quite liked.

“Don’t treasure it too long,” Cody warned him, “Because after we sing to you we’re all going to eat it.”

“Sing?”

Neither of them answered, but he found himself pushed into the professor’s chair and everyone seemed to gather all around him. He felt his face get warm and he hoped it wasn’t too noticeable. Both Cody and Satine were lighting the candles on the cake and right when they were done a rather off-key rendition of “Happy Birthday” was sung and shouted at him. There wasn’t much for him to do except sit there and try to look less uncomfortable. When Fives and Echo finally finished drawing out the last “you” Satine told him to make a wish and gestured for him to blow out the candles. It took him two attempts and he wondered if he looked as foolish as he felt.

Soon, however, everyone was preoccupied with their slices of cake and mingling with one another. Obi-Wan had to admit despite his embarrassment of having so many eyes on him, the cake was rather good. It was certainly his favorite kind from the Great Hall and he was quietly delighted when Satine offered him another piece.

“You know today’s not my birthday,” He told Satine as she sat down next to him cutting into her own slice.

“I know,” She smirked, “I know that your birthday isn’t today or tomorrow, but is actually February 29th. Despite what anyone else may say about this though, is that it’s still worth celebrating even if the day won’t appear again for a few more years.”

He blinked at her, shocked. He knew she’d been interested in figuring out his birthday, but he had assumed she’d dropped it by now, “How did you find out?”

“Years of observation,” It wasn’t a helpful answer, but he had to admire her intelligence in getting this far, “So am I right?” She leaned in close to him, her eyes searching his for the answer.

“Yes,” He answered quietly.

“Kenobi!” Hondo nearly knocked him into his cake when he slapped him on the back, “Why have you not shared your birthday with me before! Hondo gives fabulous presents that one would not wish for in their wildest dreams!”

“Ah thank you Hondo,” He peeled Hondo’s arm off his shoulders. He was fairly sure Hondo was correct in his assumption that he definitely wouldn’t have wished for whatever lurked in Hondo’s present in any of his dreams.

“You’re welcome, my friend! Only the best for one of my closest associates,” He winked at him before waltzing away back into the crowd. Obi-Wan watched him go as Satine stifled her laughter.

“I assumed you’d want to open your presents later?” She asked.

“I have presents?” He looked around the room until he spotted them and blanched. There had to be at least 10 sitting there in a pile just for him, “I can’t accept that,” He looked at her with wide eyes and she narrowed her eyes.

“It would be ruder for you to reject them,” He looked between her and the presents. A catch 22.

“I’m not opening Hondo’s in front of anyone,” He decided and she laughed again.

Suddenly there was a loud crash and they both looked up to see Anakin sprawled out on the floor. Obi-Wan’s heart flew into his throat thinking of a similar event at the last party he’d gone to at this school. Before he could run over there though, Anakin was sitting up with a dopey smile on his face. He giggled.

Obi-Wan let out a sigh of relief, but something still didn’t seem right. Anakin had Qui-Gon’s help to stand up, but he wobbled. He looked a little bit like he was drunk, but he doubted Satine or Cody would spike the punch at his birthday party. Cody seemed to have a similar guess because he took a sip of his own punch and frowned.

“Don’t you think,” Anakin giggled so hard he almost fell down again, “Don’t you think that Miraj Scintel is the most beautiful girl you’ve ever met?”

The room went silent.

“She’s really beautiful,” He said again giggling wildly. He tripped and Qui-Gon just barely managed to catch him.

Half the room broke out into laughter, it was a ridiculous sight, but Obi-Wan was more worried about what the cause of this was. Qui-Gon was too and immediately slapped a cookie out of Hondo’s hand.

“Someone’s snuck a love potion in,” Satine said standing up, looking particularly mad.

“Miraj Scintel by the sound of it,” Cin Drallig raised an eyebrow as they all quietly set their food down.

“Must have been after you Kenobi,” Fives pointed out, “After all this is technically your party.”

“Me?” He barely talked to the girl and found her quite detestable, they were as different as they came.

“It’s possible any of you were the target,” Qui-Gon frowned as he picked up Anakin to keep him from getting anywhere.

“Hey put me down! I need to go tell Miraj Scintel that I love her!” Anakin cried, “Rex, do you think she’ll like me back.”

Rex was looking at Anakin as if he were contagious, but he just gave him an awkward nod and a, “Sure mate.”

“I’ll take him to Madam Nema,” He told everyone and gave a steady gaze at Obi-Wan, “He’ll be fine. In the meantime I’m sorry, but it looks like we’ll have to cut this party short.”

Before long the room had thinned out leaving just Obi-Wan, Satine, Cody, and a mess to clean up.

“You don’t have to help, Ben,” Satine said with a sigh as she pulled out her wand, “It’s your birthday after all.”

“And leave you to do all the work? I don’t think so,” He stood beside her as they both pulled the streamers off the ceiling with their wands. Cody made short work of sending all their food back down to the kitchens. The three of them moved the desks back to where they were meant to before collapsing together at a section of desks in the center of the room.

“Who knew a party would be so much work?” Cody complained as he picked a bit of streamer out of his hair.

“I did,” Obi-Wan answered quietly, “I really appreciate the thought, but I’m not sure I like having all the attention on me.”

“The point of a birthday party is just to be around those that love you,” She told him, “Yeah it’s a little embarrassing being sung too or opening presents, but there are some things in life you just have to accept.”

“I’m not sure,” He would really rather not make such a big fuss about something as mundane as the day he was born. Satine gave him a rather scathing look for a moment before sighing deeply and reaching into her bag.

“Do you remember when I was late coming back to school?” She asked them.

“Only every day,” He complained and Cody just nodded. She sized them both up before pulling out her wallet and, as if it was physically painful for her she pulled out a thin white card.

“I was late because I was getting my driver’s license,” She set the card down in front of them, revealing Satine in rather bad lighting. On the right was a list of identifying information and quite interested, Obi-Wan picked it up to look at it.

Cody immediately had broken into a fit of laughter, catching the end of Satine’s fiery glare, “It looks like a mug shot!”

“That’s why I wasn’t too interested in telling anyone!” She snatched the card out of his hands and Obi-Wan just blinked looking over at her.

“What’s wrong with it? You look lovely,” That comment just made Cody laugh harder and earned him Satine’s glare as well.

“It’s a bloody terrible photo!” She shouted shoving the thing far back in her wallet and stashing it back where it belonged, “The point is,” She emphasized, “Sometimes you have to suffer through some embarrassment in life, I doubt having a birthday party is as terrible as having that as an identifying picture.”

“I don’t see what’s so bad about it,” He looked between Cody and Satine. It showcased her hair and although she wasn’t smiling, in it he could see the softness in her eyes.

“You are unbelievable, Obi-Wan Kenobi!” Satine’s face had gone red, “I show you the worst picture of me forced to exist and you still think being sung too is worse?”

“Let’s open presents!” Cody changed the subject quickly, shoving a shoddily wrapped gift into his hands and trying to whisper, “Come on mate, open it! She already has a mugshot, what’s going to stop her from murdering us.”

“Cody!”

[sylvasthesnowfox]

13. year ii

Day two-hundred and forty seven.

Gwen doesn't know what to say. There is a chilling silence in the main access shaft. She stands before Eliza; on the Mayor's sides are Rei and Naomi, the former looking distinctly uncomfortable with her eyes flicking between Gwen's many 'family members' behind and around her, and the latter maintaining a threatening glare as she watches the same. Many of the gangsters are watching Gwen specifically, waiting for her to say something, because that's what she told them she'd do.

Eliza is watching her too. She can see the pain written in Eliza's face. This wasn't supposed to happen. Gwen knows that's what she's thinking.

But what she's doing is right. Gwen knows that, too. What the others did was inexcusable. Apathy disorder or not, good intentions or no, it's tantamount to murder. Markus was not dead before, but he is now. As are several others.

She doesn't know what to say.

"Come on," one of the boys behind her jeers. "What are you doing?! Are you on our side or what?!"

"There are no 'sides'," Eliza hisses, glaring over Gwen's shoulder. "Or at least, there shouldn't have been; we are all survivors of this world together - "

"That's a fuckin' weird thing to hear from the bitch that banished us down here in the first place," another girl snaps.

"Stop," Gwen says, feebly.

"What?" Someone else speaks now; Gwen can't keep track of them. "What was that you just fuckin said?" Gwen instinctively doesn't care who it is. She wants to yell at them. She wants to tell them they can fend for themselves down here for all she fucking cares. They'll starve without her, after all, they'll all go fucking crazy without her keeping them busy, giving them shit to do, letting them yell at her, letting them fight each other and then scurrying in to pick up the pieces; without here they'll be dead in two weeks. She knows that and she wants desperately to scream it at the boy yelling at her for daring to tell them to stop fighting.

But she can't. That's just her grief talking. The part of her that can't stop seeing her siblings one by one falling to the apathy disorder, too exhausted of defending her from their peers to continue any longer. Eliza claims there are only a few lucid survivors upstairs left. The majority of them are all in Gwen's domain. Soon, she'll have all of them.

She's got to take care of them. She's got to stand up for them. Someone has to. They're her friends' friends. She...

"This decision is final," Eliza shouts. The gangs had turned on her, but Naomi's gun is raised, Rei's arms are unfolded and her fingers flexed at the ready. Gwen realizes with a start that a fight might break out - the worst possible outcome - how can she stop it? How can she...

They won't listen to her... so...

She keeps her journal with her at all times now. She opens it, thinking of the page she wants, quickly scrawling shapes half from memory and drawing an invisible flat plane across the access shaft, between her and Eliza. The barrier she hoped for materializes - a sharp gust of ozone and a brilliant flash precede it, and when everyone's vision clears, sparking electricity now lances across the walkway and the pipes, ceiling to floor. Eliza stares at it in shock - Naomi with muted surprise - and Rei with relief, and pride.

Gwen withers as their eyes meet. Rei makes her feel so warm. Look what I can do, she wants to say, pathetic like a puppy desperate for attention from someone that has smiled at them. But this is the wrong time and place for her to feel gushy and weak. She has to turn her eyes away.

Gwen's 'family' is recovering from their shock. They are beginning to understand what happened. In the moment of peace, Gwen's spell speaking louder than any of their words, Eliza turns to take her leave; they open the elevator door and step through into the atrium above, and Gwen lets down her barrier once it's closed. Several boys run to the elevator afterward - but when it opens it just reveals an empty elevator shaft now.

Eliza has banned travel to and from the maintenance floors. Only those who can skip the elevator can pass.

Day two-hundred and fifty nine.

Eliza rubs her face again. She's exhausted. Rei wonders if the apathy disorder is setting in. The thought threatens to break her heart, but she refuses to let it defy her purpose. She's spent the last several minutes describing, at a high level, what she knows about the recreation process. It's finally time to start talking about these things. The end, or rather the new beginning, is nearly at hand, at last. But Eliza doesn't seem relieved. Not as much as Rei was hoping for.

"The reason I wanted to talk to you today," Eliza sighs, "is because it's far past time we start talking about what we actually want to do with the new world. Right? The whole point of this is to grant you the chance to recreate a world with different properties than the one we started with."

"Well," Rei says nervously, "that's not wrong, but my focus has been primarily on preventing it from dying prematurely like this one did. There was some defect with this iteration that I have to find and correct before recreation happens."

"That sounds kind of simple," Eliza says slowly, but there's a faint smile on her face. Rei realizes with a gasp - oh, god, it feels like it's been lifetimes, but she realizes this is a reference to something Eliza used to tease her about, and -

"Well, complicated things often do," she answers, hoping desperately that this is what Eliza is looking for, and Eliza smiles more broadly and closes her eyes, chuckling quietly. "You haven't said that in so long!" Rei adds, grinning playfully. "I'd almost forgotten what it was like to have you telling me I don't know how our science labs work."

"To be fair, you didn't," Eliza snorts.

"I did too, sort of," Rei counters, folding her arms. "I just did things by instinct. The numbers would sort themselves out later, right?"

"Only because I was there to sort them," Eliza sighed. She rubs her face again, taking a deep breath. "And that's, again, why we're talking about this now. You're not taking this seriously enough, Rei. It's great that you've learned enough that we can finally start talking about the new world at all, after all this sitting around and waiting, but at this point we've sacrificed too much to let this opportunity slip by without taking full advantage of it."

"It's not that I don't agree," Rei says carefully, "but I really am not sure what you're expecting to happen here."

"Haven't you thought about it at all?" Eliza says slowly, raising her eyebrows, inclining her head. "Messing with things like the laws of physics, or something like that? Any small tweak you make could have drastic effects on resulting world..."

"I don't know how much control I'll have, exactly," Rei says slowly. "It's not really a precise process, from what I understand."

"All the more reason to be very careful about what you're trying to achieve," Eliza replies, her voice firm. "Even in the course of correcting the defect, you might change something dramatic."

Rei narrows her eyes. She's confused. "So should I not do this, for fear of side effects?"

"No, of course not," Eliza sighs with aggravation. "But you shouldn't go in blind."

"I have no intent of going in blind," Rei interrupts, folding her arms. "And that aside, whether we must begin tomorrow or I still have years left to study and plan, I'll never be able to accomplish anything by waiting until we've planned for all contingencies. We have to trust that we'll all know what we're doing and that we'll overcome whatever obstacles are in our way or else we have no hope from the start."

But the scene changes suddenly after that. The conversation's end is not seen.

Day two-hundred and ninety.

Gwen feels numb. Body, heart, mind. She has felt this way for six weeks.

Those who were once her friends and siblings, people she loved and cherished, who she has endangered herself to protect and would do so again, they have all fallen to the apathy disorder. Eliza now guards them, with all other survivors, upstairs. They have been placed into stasis, to be reanimated when a new world is prepared for them, and they'll figure out how to awaken them once that happens. So Eliza says, with what little hope left she can muster, when she visits Gwen in her basement.

All four of them can skip the elevator now, of course. Rei has taught them all to do it.

The only waking survivors left now rule the maintenance floors. They have long since stopped working their positions running the life support systems - not that that matters anymore either, since Gwen has snuck around to each of them and fixed them with runes, as well as placing runes on them that allow her to monitor and adjust them at a distance.

Once every week, she comes out of her office and shapes food for the gangsters with her magic. At first they thanked her backhandedly. Asked, demanded, that she fix the elevator, to which she would say she would do her best. She had lied and told them she didn't know how to skip it, and that meant she couldn't skip any doorways in the maintenance floors for risk of being seen. Now, weeks later, the thanks have stopped, and she's met only with cold glares. She understands that they see her as an enemy. As soon as they figure out how to overcome her, they will do so, storm the Remnant, and probably attempt to seize control of it by force. Their only hope is if Rei and Naomi allow themselves to be defeated, but even if that happens, Gwen cannot envision Yomi succumbing to them under any circumstances, given what Eliza says about her.

But that's fine. The survivors' hatred for Gwen gives them passion and purpose. It keeps them going. It means there are able hands for whatever Rei's grand scheme will be, even if those hands are not necessarily willing. Gwen hopes against hope that when faced with the ressurrection of the world, they'll shape up. They'll realize that the world must be bigger than themselves and their squabbles. But until then she will continue to be their enemy just so that they have one. For their own safety. For their own health.

Someone has to.

Day three-hundred and thirty.

"Soon," Yomi sighs. It's different from when she usually says it. For just a moment Rei feels a spark of intense excitement - and then it is underscored and annihilated by a flood of dread.

"Mother?" she whispers, in horror, and Yomi turns to her and smiles.

"The end is coming," Yomi says softly. "I can feel my health slipping away. I'll hold on as long as I can, but I don't want to stretch myself too far. I..." She laughs, closing her eyes, shaking her head. "I admit," she says, "I don't want it to be... painful. I've lived very long, so... I'm a little afraid, to be honest."

"Oh my god," Rei whispers, a phrase she has used by instinct for many years now even though it is meaningless to her. Hesitantly she approaches her adoptive mother and mentor, holding her arm as though to keep her upright; Yomi's footing is strong still, but she does seem tired, and she doesn't push Rei away. "How long?" she breathes, unable to stifle her excitement entirely anymore. "When will it happen?"

"When you are ready," Yomi replies. "I don't know if I have much more than... a month left in me."

"That's not long," Rei whispers. "Okay - okay, um - we need to talk about what's going to happen then, don't we?"

"Yes," Yomi agrees, "but not now. We need to sleep now. It's late."

"I'm not tired," Rei says blankly. "But - but if you need to rest, that's fine. Please take your time, mother."

Yomi laughs. She smiles gently at Rei, and Rei smiles back hesitantly, not sure what to expect. This is a moment Rei has known was coming. Just like the end of the world. But this she is not as prepared for.

"It's nice to have you taking care of me for a change," Yomi observes, ever so faintly coy.

Day three-hundred and forty-two.

"They can't go on like this," Eliza tells her, her face ashen, her voice faint. "Gwen, I understand that it's hard, but we're going to need them, especially if something happens to Rei. They listen to you, even if they don't respect you they - they at least have to pay attention to you."

"Are you asking me to threaten them?" Gwen murmurs back.

Day three-hundred and fifty.

"Maybe so," Eliza sighs. "Maybe that's what it takes, Gwen. That's the kind of people they are, aren't they?"

Gwen can't tell her she's wrong. Even if Eliza was talking about Gwen's 'siblings' she wouldn't be wrong. Gwen has always tried to be kind and soft, because without kindness and softness in your life, you become cold and bitter. She knew that, she knew that from the kids that came before her in the orphanage and she knew that from the kids that appreciated her before things went to hell. But maybe they were all too far gone now. Maybe she couldn't save them.

Day three-hundred and fifty four.

"I just don't know where to begin," Gwen whispers, shaking her head.

"Gwen," Eliza sighs, "Gwen, Gwen." She puts her hands on Gwen's shoulders, leans into her face. She looks scared and afraid and sad. It is a face only Gwen is allowed to see. At least Eliza still needs and appreciates her, Gwen thinks, with a measure of relief. "You have always tried to be the best person you can be," she says, a mournful smile on her lips. "You have always tried to be the reliable, trustworthy caretaker. That's who you are."

"Yes," Gwen whispers.

Day three-hundred and sixty.

"But they don't want that from you anymore," Eliza whispers, seriously. "Even though they need it, they won't accept it. You realize what that means that you have to do, doesn't it?"

Gwen is silent.

Day three-hundred and sixty two.

"When the apathy disorder first started," Eliza continues, "I made the decision to preserve the victims even though they had conceded in their hearts that they wanted to die, or at least didn't care. Against their wishes I protected them."

Gwen is still silent.

"When Emily tried to kill herself the first time," Eliza presses, "we all saved her, even though she had made up her mind. Against her wishes we protected her."

Day three-hundred and sixty three.

"I can't," Gwen whispers.

"You have to," Eliza whispers back, her voice cracking. "I know it's hard. I want so badly to do it for you, but they won't listen to me. You have to do it."

"How?" Gwen mouths, looking up at her in horror. "What do I tell them? What do I say to take back their trust?"

Day three-hundred and sixty four.

"Maybe you need to give them what they want."

Day three-hundred and sixty six.

Yomi has been bedridden for a week. She is conscious and cheerful, if clearly nervous. She has told Rei everything she can.

"Today is a good day," Yomi sighs. "The boundary is weak today."

"I can feel it too," Rei agrees. She feels sick. She is torn between ecstatic excitement and bittersweet sorrow. Her mother dies today.

"Tell me again the plan," Yomi says, turning her eyes to Rei. Rei nods and closes her eyes. This moment is important. Not just so that Rei herself knows the plan - that's important, yes, but - this is Yomi's assurance. Rei will carry on for her. She'll do the best job she possibly can. She knows she will! She knows she will.

"We'll strain the boundary at its edges," Rei recites, "and peel the remnant open at its center. At that point I will navigate to its conceptual center, the origin point of the timeline, and take control of it." She hesitates. "Once that happens... there will be no going back."

Yomi nods. "Once you have the Spark of Creation," she whispers, "I will die, and the remnant will end."

"Existence will reform around me as a universe seed," Rei continues solemnly, "and I will be the Curator. Once that happens, my job is to set in motion the laws that govern reality, and to return the Spark to the timeline, which will essentially reset existence once again using the parameters I've set. If everything is stable as it should be... it will create a universe and perpetuate forward."

"That's right," Yomi sighs, smiling, closing her eyes. Rei's heart skips a beat before she remembers that Yomi's death will be something that she directly causes, not something that happens suddenly before her eyes. "You're going to be amazing at this, Rei. Your passion and your drive have made you a great Curator."

"I'm glad you think so," Rei whispers, smiling weakly. "Um... I'm going to start the preparations, then."

"Yes," Yomi agrees. "It's time. You should start as soon as you're ready."

"Then..." Rei gulps. "Then I should... say goodbye."

Yomi chuckles, looking up at her again, shaking her head slowly. "I will be a part of the universe you create," she whispers. "Just not in this form. I will be watching constantly, Rei. You don't need to worry."

"Well, that's comforting," Rei laughs feebly, "but even so... I feel it's appropriate." She guides Yomi's hands together, holding them tightly in her own. "Thank you for everything you've done for me. For all of us. Thank you for protecting these people even though you hadn't planned to, and for teaching me what I need to know to save them."

"You will save everyone in this world, one way or another," Yomi whispers.

Rei doesn't have a response to that. She presses her lips together, straining against tears, looking down for a moment to collect herself. When she looks up, there's a serene understanding on Yomi's face that calms her heart, even as she's filled with a piercing cold certainty, a sense of closure that leaves her dark and alone instead of satisfied.

"Goodbye, mother," Rei whispers.

Yomi does not answer. She smiles. Rei accepts it. She lays Yomi's hands on her stomach, then rises and turns to walk out. She hasn't even reached the door before reality parts way for her, and she slips between its folds to enter Eliza's office, leaving Yomi in apartment - her crypt - for the last time.

[writermatthew]

Rules of Magic (reposted for readability its nbd. same post.)

(original)

bear in mind that this is still VERY much a wip & things will inevitably change, and also that i’ve likely missed things. i haven’t gotten to the point yet where i’m able to run a fine-tooth comb through everything. patience is appreciated, but feel free to ask me questions so i can add the answers here!

TYPES OF MAGIC

There are various types of magic in this world, all with different effects & tolls on the body casting and/or the body being cast upon. Notable types of magic include:

BATTLE MAGIC -

In truth, this magic is a combination of other fields of magic, multiplied by several dozen times. It elevates Match Fire (small puffs of fire, a la matches) to more extreme types of fire magic, such as Inferno Fire (the most destructive casting of fire magic); electric magic may be elevated from Static Shock (tiny bursts of electricity) to Lightning Magic (most destructive casting of electric magic); and so on and so forth.

The only magic regulated almost entirely to battle is that of the aptly named Weapon Magic. There are two subcategories of Weapon Magic: Armed and Unarmed. Armed falls into the conjuration field. One who uses Armed Weapon Magic will summon a weapon. This form of Weapon Magic is physically weaker but far steadier than its Unarmed cousin, which includes afflicting wounds without summoning a magical weapon. Only an extremely talented and focused magician can control the depth, width, and overall damage delivered by an attack.

HEALING MAGIC -

Arguably the most respectable form of magic, Healing Magic can be used by many but mastered only by a few. While useful, Healing Magic of any degree can be exhausting. The average magician can manage to stop the bleeding & knit a wound back together, or ease the pain of a sunburn, and not much more.

Healing Magic requires a lot of self-care before and after, as casting it draws upon the casters own energy. Masters of Healing Magic must practice for a very long time before they are officially employed. While all people understand and practice some extent of healing magic, only highly, highly trained individuals operate as magic doctors - this is the reason many magical people end up going to non-magical doctors; magical doctors are simply in short supply.

SMALL MAGIC -

If Healing Magic is the most respectable form of magic, Small Magic is the most useful. Alternatively referred to as Domestic Magic, this is the magic used to move small objects into hand, wash dishes, clean toilets… It can also be used for more nefarious purposes such as lockpicking and pickpocketing.

NECROMANCY -

As of now this is the only banned field of magic and relatively self explanatory. Bringing people back from the dead, bringing animals or even plants back from the dead is banned, as a reanimation of the flesh is not a reanimation of spirit. It has been banned for so long that nobody is quite certain what effect it takes on the living human body…

CASTING

Casting as a concept is simple: one must summon their energy, the desire to perform a certain magic, and cast. The execution often complicates things, as scant few spells can be cast without conductors to channel the harm they may cause. Even small spells should be used with the aid of a conductor, if not for the body’s sake, to used as little energy as possible.

Magic is innate. As such, it rises to the surface of the skin, where it is molded into the form its user wills it to take. Battle Magic in particular requires conductors - often multiple - in order to prevent clothes from entirely burning away.

Whether or not magic can be successfully cast through the likes of wands, staves, or any other physical weaponry is heavily debated. Some argue that, if made from the same materials as conductors, there is no issue. Others argue that such things would ruin the hands. Still more argue that a physical weapon can be used so long as its wielder also uses a conductor. No safe, significant conclusion has been reached.

CONDUCTORS

Conductors are the objects that allow a mage to safely use magic. While they are not always stable when more intense magic is used, they can be trusted when performing Small Magic and other such low-energy tasks. Conductors are worn with few exceptions on the arms, hands, and wrists, and have historically only been bands.

Multiple conductors can be worn at once to better their mage’s ability to perform magic, and furthermore to increase the intensity of the magic they can perform. It’s entirely possible to wear enough rings to equate the power of a wristband, and so on.

There are important things to note about conductors, their applications, and continued development.

DOCTORS, OFFICERS, & THE ELITE -

To date, the only professions allowed power greater than average (measurement pending) are magical doctors, police officers, and the Elite.

These three professions are allowed more conductors, and more powerful conductors. Opposite the general populace’s typical bands, these three groups are allowed conductors that are shaped much more like bracers, or even gauntlets.

The Elite are allowed the highest-grade conductors, as they have the highest possibility of wielding immensely powerful magic, as well as the broadest field of magic to master. They are highly-trained investigators as much as they are warriors.

Doctors and officers come in second. They too possess conductors modeled after bracers, but theirs are typically made of less powerful material.

YOUSSEF RADAMES & THE FUTURE OF CONDUCTORS

After quitting his job as a member of the Elite, Youssef Radames took the first and greatest strides toward a safer, more equal future. In the late nineties, Radames invented a material that allowed for the creation of more stable conductors with less chance of backfire. As soon as he was able, he began to sell them at affordable prices & amassed a fortune.

He contributed (and continues to contribute) more than half of this fortune to improving the lives of the people. With the rest, he builds bigger and better products, including the first-ever Conducting glove. At present, he is working on a way to link Conductors and clothing in such a way that the magic is as stable as it can possibly be as well as quick and energy-efficient.

Radames has also improved upon the design of the Elite’s Conductors. For an unknown reason, he refuses to share this design with the public, and has stated that “[he] will never give it to the Elite nor develop more than enough to assist in [his] development of public Conductors.”

TRAINING

Training a user in Magic is pretty similar to training them in, say, Physics or Gym or any other number of other subjects. In short, it’s just another subject for the student to master alongside their other classes.

The longer truth is that Magic training is often prioritized over mundane subjects due to the danger it can cause if an unstable mage decides they do not value their fellows. As such, every mage is taught basic understanding & control of magic, appropriate situations to use it in, and so on and so forth. Every mage will learn the fundamentals and a little more. To learn more, a mage must attend a university that specializes in their field.

LIMITATIONS

Conductors themselves come with natural limitations. After a certain point of using spells without halt, they’ll become unstable, and their user will most often feel a telltale prickle at the site of their Conductors.

Magic itself is limited only by how far the mage is willing to go. There are instances of a mage going without a proper Conductor and using his entire pool of power to accomplish his goal, thus resulting in the rapid degradation of his body. He was found effectively burned to a crisp, his surroundings nothing but ash.

Basically, the only true physical limit is the mage’s desire for self-preservation. Without that, there are no limits.

SCARRING

As mentioned previously, Conductors before the 2000s weren’t nearly as stable as they are now, and while they were better than the 1800s, they were far from great. They had a tendency to backfire when faced with more magic than they could handle, which often led to scars on or around the placement of the Conductor(s).

It’s important to note that scarring is more likely when using magic that’s potentially dangerous, the same way that one’s more likely to hurt themselves using a toaster oven than they are a whisk.

Scars typically pattern themselves the same way their type of magic would scar someone in a non-magical context, which is to say that Fire Magic will leave burn scars, Electric Magic will leave electrical scars, and so on and so forth. Unlike scars caused by non-magical entities, magical scars can only be healed if they’re relatively light, or initially cast with the intent to eventually heal or only briefly wound.

In extreme circumstances, healers may transfer a percentage of their patients’ wounds to themselves. Understandably, healers often bear scars that don’t align with the location or condition of their Conductors.

[somar78]

A Brief History of the Toyota Land Cruiser FJ40 / BJ40 + J40 Series

The story of the Toyota Land Cruiser J Series (FJ40 / BJ40 etc) starts in the Philippines during the Second World War, the Japanese had invaded the nation, along which much of the rest of East Asia, and they found an abandoned Jeep that had been left by retreating American forces.

There is a little contention as to exactly which Jeep or Jeep-like vehicle it was that they found, most sources say it was either a Willys Jeep or a Ford GPW (Ford’s Jeep), but some claim it was an American Bantam BRC 60 Mark II. Toyota themselves haven’t included any reference to this captured vehicle in their own history of the Land Cruiser, and instead pick up the story in the 1950s.

Whichever vehicle it was, we know that it was an American military 4×4, and we know the Japanese military immediately recognised how useful it would be to have their own version. It was shipped back to Japan, and Toyota was tasked with building a local version using as many off the shelf parts as possible – they were also instructed to make sure it didn’t look too much like a Jeep.

Above Image: A WW2 era Ford GPW undergoing testing.

The Toyota Land Cruiser’s Grandfather: The Toyota AK10

There were two Japanese vehicles made from the captured American Jeep. The first was the Type 4 Compact Cargo-Truck (Yon-Shiki Kogata Kamotsu-Sha 四式小型 貨物 車). The second was the “AK10” which was created by reverse engineering the American vehicle. The AK10 was very similar to the Jeep it was based on, and was powered by an inline four cylinder 2.3 liter (2,259 cc) Toyota Type C gasoline engine. The AK10 was fitted with a three speed manual transmission mated to a two speed transfer box.

Above Image: An early Toyota “Jeep” prototype.

At the end of the war Japan was occupied and its industries were struggling. The lessons of the aftermath of the First World War had been learned however in regard to the fact that it had been the punitive economic damage that had been done to Germany under the terms of the Treaty of Versailles that had helped Hitler get into power. With that lesson of history learned the Allies engaged in assisting with the rebuilding Japan’s industries and economy in addition to working to establish in Japan a democratic government.

The peace in East Asia did not last long however with the Communists taking power in China and then seeking to expand their empire into Korea, resulting in the Korean War beginning in mid-1950. With a new war to fight the US military asked Toyota to make 100 Jeeps for the war effort using the Willy’s Jeep specifications, which they duly did.

The Post-War Period Toyota Land Cruiser BJ and FJ (1951-1955)

Then began the development of the “Jeep” like vehicles that would give rise to the Toyota J40 Land Cruiser series starting with the Toyota BJ in 1951, the vehicle gaining the name “Land Cruiser” coined by technical director Hanji Umehara in 1955. It’s widely believed that the new name was inspired by the British Land Rover.

Physically a bit larger than the original Bantam Reconnaissance Car and the Willy’s Jeep the J series Land Cruiser was an ideal size for a four wheel drive vehicle for military or civilian use. Not only did Toyota get the physical size right but they also fitted the vehicle with a more powerful engine than the British Land Rover or the original Willy’s Jeep: they fitted it with the Toyota Type B 3.4 liter OHV inline six cylinder gasoline engine which delivered a healthy 84hp at 3,600 rpm and torque of 159 lb/ft at a low and useful 1,600 rpm.

The one thing the 4×4 did not have however was a transfer case providing low and high range options. Perhaps it was thought that with that size and power of engine with its excellent low speed torque that “low range” gearing would not be needed.

To demonstrate the prowess of the Toyota BJ and demonstrate that it didn’t need a low range transfer box Ichiro Taira drove a BJ to the sixth level of Mount Fuji, becoming the first person to do so. Ichiro Taira’s drive was supervised by Japan’s National Police Agency and it so impressed them that made the Toyota BJ their official police four wheel drive patrol car and placed an order for 289 of them.

By 1953 production of the Toyota BJ was in full swing with three model variants on offer: the BJ-T touring model; the BJ-R radio vehicle; and the BJ-J cowl chassis which could be equipped with a special custom body such as for making a fire-engine for example. 1954 saw the BJ-J also offered as the FJ-J fitted with the larger and more powerful Toyota Type F inline six cylinder gasoline/petrol engine. This 3.9 liter (3,878 cc) engine with its mild 6.8:1 compression ratio produced 125 hp with torque of 209 lb/ft and was a perfect power plant to haul around the necessarily heavier bodies that were fitted to the cowl chassis versions.

The Toyota Land Cruiser J20 and J30 Series (1955-1960)

The J20 Land Cruiser was introduced in 1955 and was an upgrade of the original BJ and FJ. The suspension was improved with the fitting of four plate leaf springs inherited from a Toyota light truck and the body styling was also made more attractive. This model featured the curved fenders and hood/bonnet style that would define the look of the J40 series that was to come.

For the J20 and J30 series Toyota offered a new and more powerful version of the Type F engine, still of 3.9 liters capacity but this one providing 133 hp. This engine was mounted a little further forward to increase interior space and especially to improve front leg-room for tall drivers. These models still lacked a low-range/high-range transfer box although the three speed gearbox was provided with synchromesh on second and third gears.

Body styles offered for the J20 and J30 series included the open soft top and a range of others including two door and four door wagons and pick-ups.

Enter the Toyota Land Cruiser FJ40 – BJ40 / J40 Series (1960-1984)

The Toyota Land Cruiser J40 series made its debut at the dawn of the swinging sixties when the latest dance craze was “The Twist”, and the Beatles and the Rolling Stones became Britain’s greatest exports along with the Austin Mini, the “mini skirt”, and 007 James Bond movies.

Of all the things that emerged in the early 1960s the Toyota Land Cruiser J40 proved to be one of the most practical and durable new things of all. If you were out in some remote part of the world where vehicle failure could prove fatal not only for the vehicle but also for its occupants unless there was a prearranged rescue organized, then a Toyota Land Cruiser was a comforting thing to have: especially one with a diesel engine and a decent two-way radio.

By the time I went to work in a mining town in the Australian outback in the early 1970s there were very few other 4x4s to be seen: every man and his dog seemed to have a Land Cruiser and they were all very happy with them. One of the major improvements that helped ensure that the J40 Land Cruiser would become a legend in its own time was it being fitted with a low-range/high-range transfer case making it much easier to crawl uphill and down dale when the going got steep and often rocky.

Although it still had a three speed gearbox there were farmers and pastoralists who preferred that over the four speed which was fitted from 1974, regarding the second gear of the three speed box perfect for cruising along firebreaks and trails where top gear was just too quick for the task and in the four speed box third was a tad too high and second definitely too low.

The J40 was initially fitted with much the same 3.9 liter Type F inline six cylinder gasoline/petrol engine as its predecessors but improved and delivering 125 hp. In 1974 the four speed gearbox replaced the three speed: to the delight of some, and to the chagrin of others, and the Land Cruiser was also offered with the four cylinder 3.0 liter Type B diesel engine. With a compression ratio of 21:1 this engine produced 80 hp at 3,600 rpm and 141 lb/ft torque at 2,200 rpm.

The following year in 1975 the gasoline/petrol engine was improved on with a new 4.2 liter (4,230 cc) inline six which had a compression ratio of 7.8:1 and delivered 135 hp with 200 lb/ft of torque. 1976 saw the US model of the FJ40 receive front disc brakes to help it lose momentum rather more quickly than its old fashioned drum brake siblings. American FJ40’s also were offered with air conditioning and power steering in 1979.

1981 saw the diesel engine BJ40 also offered with disc brakes and the long wheelbase BJ45 was offered with the 3.4 liter inline four cylinder Type 3B diesel engine producing 90 hp from its 20:1 compression ratio with torque of 160 lb/ft at 2,000 rpm.

Some markets were supplied with the 3.6 liter (3,576 cc) inline six cylinder OHV Type H diesel engine as an option from 1973. Thus fitted the Land Cruiser was designated an HJ45. This engine gave the Land Cruiser diesel power of 94 hp at 3,600 rpm with torque of 159 lb/ft at 2,200 rpm. In 1981 this engine option was upgraded to the 4.0 liter 2H diesel producing 104 hp at 3,500 rpm with torque of 177 lb/ft at 2,000 rpm. Thus fitted the model designation was HJ47.

Production of the J40 was phased out finally ending in 1984, but the series lives on today as one of the most beloved 4x4s of its time, with newly restomodded vehicles fetching well over $100,000 USD.

The “Bandeirante” Brazilian Land Cruisers

Toyota’s J40 Land Cruiser was made in various parts of the world and Brazil was one of those nations. Toyota had established itself in Brazil in June 1952 with a modest 200 meter by 50 meter assembly plant which initially assembled CKD (Completely Knocked Down) kits imported from Japan. This was complicated by a government ban on the importation of spare parts however and Toyota’s efforts to get spare parts of a sufficient quality control standard proved difficult: local parts were not equal in quality to Japanese made parts and were also expensive.

In 1958 Toyota established Toyota do Brasil Industria e Comercio Limitada as a subsidiary company to build Toyota’s in Brazil. On Christmas Eve of that year Toyota do Brasil purchased the local Land Rover manufacturing facility as Land Rover had decided to withdraw from the Brazilian market.

Production began with the FJ25L Land Cruiser in May 1959 and production was progressively expanded with the move to a large facility in San Bernadino on the outskirts of San Paulo which was completed in late 1962. Production of the J40 based vehicles beginning with the TB41L long wheelbase hard top began in 1963.

In order to ensure a level of local production agreeable to the Brazilian Government the engines of these vehicles were sourced from Mercedes-Benz do Brasil Limitada, so these Toyota Land Cruiser Bandeirante (Pioneer) J40 vehicles were fitted with Brazilian made Mercedes diesel engines and have some body and light fitting differences to the J40 Land Cruisers made in Japan.

Conclusion

Today the J40 series Land Cruisers remain one of the single most universally loved 4×4 vehicles of the era, their values have been skyrocketing and where it was possible to buy them cheaply a few years ago you’ll likely now be facing a price similar to a mid-level modern sports car.

Parts availability for the J40s is excellent and many companies and websites exist to serve owners and restorers, it’s possible to buy new pressed steel body panels and (almost) any mechanical parts needed. A number of companies like Legacy Overland, The FJ Company, and Icon have popped up that restore them to better-than-new condition and sell them for brand new Porsche 911 money, and they’re selling as many of them as they can turn out.

Epilogue

When your expectant wife climbs into the cab of your work FJ40 Land Cruiser tray top and tells you “We need to get to the hospital quickly” you appreciate the fact that you have 4.2 liters of six cylinder power under the hood and indeed the FJ40 got going up the freeway at the sorts of speeds many other 4x4s of the time couldn’t.

The brakes were good too, we managed to comfortably miss the ice cream van that decided to do a U-turn in front of us not far from the hospital: if you can imagine an ice-cream truck driver with a look on his face like a rabbit in the headlights then you can imagine the moment. Then a motorcycle police officer arrived and kindly gave us an escort all the way to the hospital. Suffice to say we made it in time and our son was not born in the cab of the Land Cruiser.

Of all the Land Cruisers I think the BJ40 was the one I liked the most, despite its lack of racing to the maternity hospital speed it was nonetheless quick enough for life’s less dramatic moments and it was comfortable for long highway runs as well as being a vehicle that you could have some confidence in when you were a long way from anywhere.

The Toyota J40 Land Cruiser was the vehicle that made Toyota’s name a household word. It carved out a name for itself in the diesel and dust of the Australian Outback, it became the vehicle of choice for African Safari operators, and it proved itself up against the American four wheel drives, including the Jeep that had originally inspired it.

Photo Credits: Toyota

The post A Brief History of the Toyota Land Cruiser FJ40 / BJ40 + J40 Series appeared first on Silodrome.

source https://silodrome.com/toyota-land-cruiser-fj40-bj40-history/

[preserving-ferretbrain]

Somebody Has to Save the World

by Gina Dhawa

Sunday, 01 March 2009

Gina read Watchmen and not just as pre-movie prep.~

I am First Lieutenant of H.M.S Late to the Party. I didn't read any Harry Potter until long after Goblet of Fire showed up in paperback, I didn't watch Firefly until I decided Serenity was worth a look, and I didn't read The Lord of the Rings until the weekend before I saw The Fellowship of the Ring. So, despite the fact that Watchmen has been lauded as a classic of its genre and a masterpiece of literature, I only got around to reading it last summer. And, since the film is coming out in a week, I thought perhaps an article was in order.

Watchmen is set in an alternate universe, where costumed crime-fighting heroes have been on the scene since the late 1930s. The general plot more or less runs thus: By 1985, the year the novel is set, vigilantism is outlawed, so all the "costumed heroes" of old have been forced into retirement. The Comedian, a government-sponsored vigilante, is murdered. Rorschach, an ex-associate and definitely not government-sponsored, investigates and begins to uncover a greater conspiracy. Meanwhile, the godlike Dr Manhattan is hounded into exile and the other retired vigilantes are forced into action.

The

Watchmen

world is undoubtedly bleak. There is boatloads (quite literally, in the comic-within-comic

Tales of the Black Freighter

) of violence and gore, brought forth just as often by the Watchmen themselves as by anyone else. This is particularly true of Rorschach, arguably the character with the strictest moral code in the novel. He is so firm in his beliefs that he refuses to retire when vigilantism is made illegal. He condemns an ex-villain, now suffering from cancer, for trying out banned medication and is happy to use torture to get what he wants. Yet, in these brutal actions, he is still determined to seek justice. He's searching for the truth about the Comedian's murder.

It's the characters which make

Watchmen

such a success. Even the most overtly villainous characters - and I am thinking here particularly of the Comedian, heroic vigilante, murderer and rapist - are drawn with complexity and whilst it is easy to abhor their particular moral codes, they are nonetheless

human

. It's a stroke of genius to use this particular type of character to explore this idea. These are people who have set out to protect the world from evil, in the black and white world of Heroes and Villains, and come to discover that the world around them is much more complicated. "Who are we protecting [society] from?" asks one character, having quashed an anti-vigilante ("we want reg'lar police!") riot, "From themselves," replies the Comedian.

Watchmen

is not an easy read. The panels are densely packed with references back and forth to characters, people and events that take place before and during the novel and there are so many side stories and minor plotlines that it's very difficult to take in on one reading. It's also complicated by the fact that not every chapter is in panel form, the story is added to by fictional excerpts from one of the character's autobiography and later, magazine clippings. It's a fantastic exercise in worldbuilding and one that I think many fiction writers, including quite a few of those populating bestseller lists, ought to take a lesson from.

I imagine

Watchmen

is a very different beast if you've already got a grounding in comics. I've maybe read one or two in my life, so I might not be able to appreciate any layers of meaning as related to genre tropes, but I don't think it's necessary. The overwhelming sense of the novel is

the world is a messed up, complicated place, but that's humanity

; I think it's just as powerful without outside understanding of the genre.Themes:

Sci-fi / Fantasy

,

Comics

,

Watchmen

~

bookmark this with - facebook - delicious - digg - stumbleupon - reddit

~Comments (

go to latest

)

Wardog

at 09:18 on 2009-03-03Gosh, can I be Second Lieutenant of H.M.S Late To The Party? The thing is, I think I might have read Watchmen, years ago, but I can remember barely anything about it except that it has a naked blue man in it, which makes me think that I maybe didn't read it at all, or just flicked through it at a friend's house or something. Maybe I am, in fact, First Lieutenant of Good Ship Amnesiac. Watchman seems to be such a definitive comic that I've been too embarrassed to admit ignorance but this intriguing review has spurred me to action. I will get off my ass and read it before the film comes out.

Or ... maybe I shouldn't. Despite some serious misjudgements (Evie/V for example), I did actually quite like the V for Vendetta film, which I probably wouldn't have been if I'd been at all precious about the comic...

Perhaps ignorance is truly an advantage after all =P

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Rami

at 18:23 on 2009-03-03I have been seeing the Watchmen comic in a lot of the shops around here, and toying with the idea of getting it. Because, as you say, from everything I've read / heard it is all definitive and stuff. But then, I haven't even read Harry Potter, and that hasn't stopped me enjoying the vitriol on here, so perhaps it's not worth it...

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Arthur B

at 19:46 on 2009-03-03But if the consensus is that

Watchmen

the comic is good, where's the vitriol going to come from?

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Rami

at 23:45 on 2009-03-03Well, replace "vitriol" with "excitement"...

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Arthur B

at 01:35 on 2009-03-04Seriously, though, read

Watchmen

, it's good enough that experiencing it vicariously is not an option.

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Gina Dhawa

at 13:36 on 2009-03-04@ Kyra - I haven't actually read the V for Vendetta comic, but I've never been the kind of person to cling to original canon for its own sake. Which, you know, is a good place to be for an avid reader ;).

@ Rami - I do rec it. I don't know if it's all definitive, but it's certainly one of the best things I've ever read.

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http://fintinobrien.livejournal.com/

at 00:11 on 2009-03-06As a fan of the comic I've been excited about the movie for the past few months, but I think now I'm more interested in the cartoon: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TT6KpsJs1Io

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http://fintinobrien.livejournal.com/

at 00:36 on 2009-03-06Looks like it was taken off Youtube. :( Here's the Newgrounds original: http://www.newgrounds.com/portal/view/485797

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Sonia Mitchell

at 23:54 on 2009-03-06You prompted me to dig my copy out and have another look through. On my first read I was somewhat put off by the bio extracts and the like, but I read somewhere that they weren't part of the original comic so I felt justified skipping them this time. Though I did love the line 'I dressed up as an owl and fought crime' (possibly misquoted there).

I think you're spot on about the characters, Gina. The world-building is interesting (though possibly less easy for us to identify with than readers in the 80s) but the plot doesn't rely on world alone, which is nice. I like that so much of the enjoyment springs from interaction between people, rather than stock characters reacting to the world situation.

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Arthur B

at 01:54 on 2009-03-08@fintinobrien: sorry about reposting your link in the Playpen, I completely failed to notice you'd posted it before I made my post.

I just saw the movie and I can confirm that it's excellent. Zack Snyder has actually learned how to adapt things to the medium rather than slavishly transcribing the source material (as in

300

), and he makes some changes to the overarching plot to make it easier to adapt to the big screen, but at the same time he understands that the whole plot is really a framing device and the core of

Watchmen

is in the character studies, which by and large he doesn't fuck with.

My only complaint is that - aside from the German version of 99 Red Balloons - there's basically no music from the 1980s from the soundtrack. (In fact, there's a weird fixation on music from the 60s - presumably because the 1960s were when superhero comics were at their most innocent - and unrealistic - thanks to the Comics Code.)

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Sonia Mitchell

at 12:05 on 2009-03-08Me too, and I agree that it was brilliant. Really great balance of loyalty to the source and film watchability.

(I enjoyed the soundtrack, but I'm not all that knowledgable about music so wouldn't have been able to identify it as 60s, just that it was very atmospheric)

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Gina Dhawa

at 12:58 on 2009-03-08@fintinobrien - I have now watched that video about half a dozen times and it isn't getting old yet.

@Arthur - I hadn't thought about the soundtrack like that, but that's an interesting point. I actually think 99 Luftballoons was the best part of the soundtrack, aside from the opening sequence. I can't imagine that being done any better, on any count.

I loved the film too, I thought the changes were well thought out and it all looked stunning. There are people complaining its

too much

like the comic, particularly with regard to pacing, which is a complaint I don't understand. I went with a friend who hadn't read it and she loved it as well.

The casting was perfect as well, particularly Jackie Earle Haley. I was not expecting Rorschach to be quite so... well,

Rorschach

. He's astounding. Loved Ozymandias too, I know a lot of people had their doubts.

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Wardog

at 15:31 on 2009-03-08I have finally finished reading the comic, in time to go and see the film next week - I'm afraid I'm not going to think much of it. To be honest, I think I've just come too late to Alan Moore. I felt exactly the same about Watchmen as I did after I read V for Vendetta - something like "gosh, that's a product of it's time, how terribly quaint."

[nothingman]

The FCC voted in a 3-2 party-line vote to end net neutrality, despite overwhelming bipartisan support for it.

The Federal Communications Commission has voted to repeal net neutrality, despite overwhelming public support for the regulation, which requires internet service providers like Verizon and Comcast to distribute internet access fairly and equally to everyone, regardless of how much they pay or where they’re located.

Despite last-minute requests to delay the December 14 vote from some Republican members of Congress, it went through as scheduled, thanks to the support of a much longer list of Republicans who favored the repeal and urged the vote to be held without delay. As had been heavily predicted for months, the vote was split 3-2 along party lines, with the FCC chair Ajit Pai and the other Republican members Michael O’Rielly and Brendan Carr voting for repeal and Democratic commissioners Mignon Clyburn and Jessica Rosenworcel voting to protect it.

The vote to repeal came in spite of overwhelming bipartisan support for net neutrality from the public, as the FCC was clearly determined to move ahead with the repeal. Tensions were high during the hearing — and at one point, in the middle of Pai’s remarks, the room was evacuated for about 10 minutes due to an apparent security threat.

We are being evacuated by security during net neutrality vote at FCC

— CeciliaKang (@ceciliakang) December 14, 2017

The implications of the repeal are vast and complicated, and, if left unchallenged, will almost certainly fundamentally change how people access and use the internet. But it could be a long time before we start to see the full effects of the FCC’s vote — and there’s even a ghost of a chance that the repeal might be overturned by the US Court of Appeals.

Here’s what you need to know about what could happen next.

Media Action Grassroots Network

Protesters at a 2015 net neutrality rally.

1) What was the FCC actually voting on?

The FCC voted on the Restoring Internet Freedom Order, which concerned the repeal of Title II protection for net neutrality.

Title II is a decades-old regulatory clause that explicitly classifies internet service providers (ISPs) as telecommunications companies, meaning they’re essentially classified as utilities and subject to the same regulations that other telecommunication companies — also classified as utilities — must abide by. That basic regulatory standard is what people are referring to when they talk about net neutrality. Title II was first applied to ISPs in 2015, after a hard-won fight by internet activists.

Placing ISPs under Title II was the only legal way — barring the unlikely introduction and passage of Congressional legislation instituting complicated new regulatory procedures — in which these companies could be regulated. Now that the FCC has repealed Title II classification for ISPs, the ISPs will essentially be unregulated.

2) Why does it matter if ISPs are regulated or not?

Classifying ISPs as utility companies under Title II meant they had to treat the internet like every other utility — that is, just like gas, water, or phone service — and that they couldn’t cut off service at will or control how much of it any one person received based on how much that person paid for it. The idea was that the internet should be a public service that everyone has a right to use, not a privilege, and that regulating ISPs like utilities would prevent them from hijacking or monopolize that access.

The best argument for the rollback of this Title II protection is that maybe the internet isn’t a public service — maybe it’s just another product, and in a free market system, competition over who gets to sell you that product would ensure accountability and fair treatment among providers, if only due to economic self-interest.

But there’s a huge problem with that argument, which is that, as far as the internet is concerned, there really isn’t a free and open market. In the United States, competition among ISPs was driven down years ago thanks to the consolidated nature of internet broadband infrastructure, which has typically been owned by major corporations, shutting out local ISP competitors.

That’s why many people don’t really have much choice about which company they pay for internet access — that access has been monopolized by a handful of powerful companies. In fact, nearly 50 million households have only one high-speed ISP in their area.

In other words, these particular utility companies, now unregulated, have free reign to behave like the corporate monopolies they are. Where net neutrality ensured the preservation of what’s been dubbed “the open internet,” its repeal will open the door for ISPs to create “an internet for the elite.”

3) What will happen to the internet without net neutrality protections in place?

Net neutrality mandated that ISPs display all websites, at the same speed, to all sources of internet traffic. Without net neutrality, all bets are off.

That means ISPs will be free to control what you access on the internet, meaning they will be able to block access to specific websites and pieces of software that interact with the internet.

They might charge you more or less money to access specific “bundles” of certain websites, much as cable television providers do now — but instead of “basic cable,” you might be forced to pay for access to more than a “basic” number of websites, as this popular pro-net neutrality graphic illustrates:

ISPs will also be able to control how quickly you’re served webpages, how quickly you can download and upload things, and in what contexts you can access which websites, depending on how much money you pay them.

They’ll be able to charge you more to access sites you currently visit for free, cap how much data you’re allowed to use, redirect you from sites you are trying to use to sites they want you to use instead, and block you from being able to access apps, products, and information offered by their competitors or other companies they don’t like.

They can even block you from being able to access information on certain topics, news events, or issues they don’t want you to know about.

Finally, they’ll be able exert this power not just over individual consumers, but over companies, as well. This could result in the much-discussed “internet fast lane” — in which an ISP forces a company like Twitter or BitTorrent to pay more for faster access for readers or users like you to its websites and services. Larger, more powerful companies likely won’t be hurt by this change. Smaller companies and websites almost definitely will be.

We already have a good idea of how these scenarios might play out, because in the era before net neutrality existed, ISPs tried instituting all of them: via jacked-up fees, forced redirection, content-blocking, software-blocking, website-blocking, competitor-blocking and still more competitor-blocking, app-blocking and still more app-blocking, data-capping, and censorship of controversial subjects.

If net neutrality advocates have made it seem like there’s simply no end to the worst-case scenarios that unregulated ISPs might subject us to, it’s because they’ve learned from experience. This history of ISP exploitation is a major reason that advocates for net neutrality fought so hard for it to begin with.

We also know that many ISPs, notably Comcast, already have their eyes on the aforementioned “fast lane,” also known as “paid prioritization.” (Disclaimer: Comcast is an investor in Vox’s parent company, Vox Media, through its NBC-Universal arm.)

And lest you believe that the current FCC is prepared to make sure that such offenses are fully sanctioned and dealt with by the government, think again. FCC chair Pai is a vocal proponent of letting ISPs self-regulate, and seems perfectly content to ignore their contentious and often predatory history.

Not only that, but the FCC is explicitly preventing state consumer protection laws from taking effect regarding net neutrality protection. That means that once the repeal is final, the rights of states to govern themselves won’t apply to protecting net neutrality.

4) Who will be most affected by the repeal of net neutrality?

Women, minorities, rural communities, and internet developers will feel the fullest effects of this repeal.

The general argument among net neutrality advocates is that without an open internet, members of society who have historically been marginalized and silenced will be in danger of being further marginalized and silenced, or marginalized and silenced once more — particularly women and minorities.

We’ve seen in the past that ISPs can and will censor access to controversial subjects. Without regulation, situations could arise in which underprivileged or disenfranchised individuals and groups have less access to speak up or contact others online.

One worst-case scenario that we haven’t yet seen in America, but which is worth considering given the current heated political climate, is that ISPs could potentially play a role in limiting or marginalizing certain communities during times of urgency — for instance, an ISP might choose to block a mobilizing hashtag like #BlackLivesMatter at the start of an organic protest.

This might seem like a dire prediction, but there’s precedent for it: In 2011, the Egyptian government heavily censored certain websites during the Arab Spring. And in Turkey, under the administration of President Erdogan, the country has become notorious for censoring websites and blocking hashtags, at one point banning Twitter altogether.

Rural areas of the US — where internet access is already scarce due to a lack of ISPs operating there — will be further subjected to corporatization and monopolization of their internet infrastructure.

More than 10 million Americans already lack broadband access, and as the Hill notes in an overview of the potential impact of net neutrality’s repeal, “Good broadband is a small town’s lifeline out of geographic isolation, its connection to business software and services, and its conduit for exporting homegrown ideas and products.” Without regulatory inducements, corporate ISPs will have little incentive to develop infrastructure in such areas.

Another group that will be heavily impacted by net neutrality’s repeal — one that’s often overlooked but extremely crucial — is innovators and developers and people who create stuff for the internet. Tim Berners-Lee, creator of the internet as we know it, recently summed up the repeal’s potential effect on these developers:

If US net neutrality rules are repealed, future innovators will have to first negotiate with each ISP to get their new product onto an internet package. That means no more permissionless space for innovation. ISPs will have the power to decide which websites you can access and at what speed each will load. In other words, they’ll be able to decide which companies succeed online, which voices are heard — and which are silenced.

Again, this all sounds pretty dire — but that’s because it is. The people with the most expertise, the most investment in creating a progressive internet, and the strongest ability to advocate for an open internet could be prevented from doing their best work because of a lack of ability to pay for access to an ISP-controlled space.

It’s important to note, too, that because the nature of the repeal is unprecedented, we can’t necessarily predict every group and demographic that could potentially feel its impact.

5) Why did the FCC vote to repeal net neutrality when it had such overwhelming bipartisan support, and when the effects of a repeal seem so dire?

Pretty much everybody supports net neutrality — it’s one of the few bipartisan issues that most of Congress and most American citizens agree on. The glaring exceptions are the giant ISPs who are reigned in by the regulation.

Over the last nine years, Verizon, Comcast, and AT&T have collectively spent over half a billion dollars lobbying the FCC to end regulatory oversight, and especially to block or repeal net neutrality. They found a loyal friend in Pai, who was appointed to the FCC in 2012 by then President Barack Obama, and named chairman by President Donald Trump shortly after Trump took office in January. Pai previously worked for Verizon and voted against the 2015 net neutrality ruling as a minority member of the FCC, calling it a “massive intrusion in the internet economy.”

So Pai has basically always supported the repeal of net neutrality, despite the overwhelming public support for it. He believes the 2015 ruling was frivolous and unnecessary, and has also argued, in opposition to hard evidence, that investment in the internet shrinks when net neutrality is in effect. With Trump’s full backing, he has made undoing it a priority.

In fact, even though Pai is legally required to seriously consider the voice of the public when he makes decisions, he has made it clear that he never truly intended to consider most of the millions of comments submitted in support of net neutrality through the FCC’s website since it began the repeal process in May. That’s because the vast majority of those comments were duplicates that came through automated third-party advocacy websites. While many of them were likely submitted by spambots using fake or stolen identities and emails to file comments, many more of them were likely submitted by people using the tried-and-true method of sending a form letter to the government to express their opinions. Pai also rejected the form letters out of hand: Once the number of duplicate comments came to light, the FCC declared that it would be rejecting all duplicated comments as well as “opinions” that came without “introducing new facts.”

Essentially, even though nearly 99 percent of the unique comments that the FCC received were pro-net neutrality and anti-repeal, and even though the entire point of a democratic process is to allow people to express their opinions, the FCC chose to dismiss pretty much every opinion that was expressed, because spambots and auto-duplicated opinions were involved. FCC commissioner Rosenworcel, one of the commission’s two minority Democrats, acknowledged this during the December 14 vote to repeal, noting "the cavalier disregard this agency has demonstrated to the public.”

As Dell Cameron as Gizmodo put it, “To be clear, when the FCC says that it is ‘restoring internet freedom,’ it is not talking about your freedom or the freedom of consumers.”

6) What happens now, in the immediate aftermath of the vote?

A flurry of lawsuits from tech companies, internet activists, and think tanks will likely descend upon Washington — starting with a protective filing by internet activists that will appeal the FCC’s vote to prevent the repeal from immediately taking effect. These lawsuits will petition the US Court of Appeals for a review of the FCC’s order. After a filing period of 10 days, all of the lawsuits will eventually be punted collectively to one of the Court of Appeals’ 12 circuit courts, and the ultimate outcome will be largely dependent on which court hears the appeals.

If the repeal does eventually go into effect, the FCC will institute one very thin piece of ISP regulation in place of net neutrality — a version of a 2010 transparency ruling that requires ISPs to inform consumers when the ISPs are deliberately slowing their internet speed. The FCC will be passing off the enforcement of this transparency stipulation to the FTC, in a long-planned and recently formalized agreement that will allow the two commissions “to work together to take targeted action against bad actors.”

7) When will the repeal go into effect?

We simply can’t know at this point. Establishing a workable timeline will depend on a whole heap of factors, such as which circuit court ends up hearing the appeals, whether there are a motions to relocate the appeals to another court, any motions or counter-motions filed on the appeals, and so forth. There’s also the likelihood that net neutrality advocates will ask for stays of the FCC’s ruling so that it can’t take effect while motions are still being heard and appeals are being deliberated.

Additionally, there’s one alternative to the appeals process that’s definitely a longshot, yet still a possibility: Congress could move to pass a joint resolution overturning the repeal and establishing new regulatory oversight. However, given how firmly many Republican politicians have stood behind Pai’s repeal campaign, this seems highly unlikely to happen unless the 2018 midterm elections result in a major upheaval of Congress, and could take years to hash out.

In a nutshell, we don’t know how long will it take to fight the repeal in the court system, so we can’t know when — or if — it will take effect. It’s likely that even if a court overturns the FCC’s decision, that court may only overturn part of it and not the entire thing.

What the final version of a net neutrality repeal might look like, and when it might take effect, are both unknown at this point, with the future of an open internet hanging in the balance.

via Vox - All