#i just found fucking gross how it was used for cannon fodder

[popsicle-stick]

kinda out-of-nowhere thought, but uh. always really hated those godawful posts that would refer to the statistic of the rise in domestic abuse in england whenever england lost a football match

'thinking of all those women in england tonight!!!! 💔' no you're not. be real. don't pretend to care about anonymous abused women as a way to achieve some kind of moral high ground. be normal and send hate at least like everyone else

[mwolf0epsilon]

Sammy and Norman. One of them gets drafted? The goodbyes, the worry, maybe never get to see the other again ?

Summary: The battlefield took his arm and a finger, and maybe a little bit of his sanity, but that studio took much more from everyone else. It took their mind, soul and body.

---

Dread had been a creeping stalker from the moment he'd witnessed many of his neighbors being called upon to help in the war efforts. It had followed Sammy around like a wolf in the shadows, making him fret for what he considered an inevitability of sorts. As the man of a household it only made sense that he'd be singled out as another viable soldier despite being the least capable sort to be found in a war.

A man of the arts, with careful and gentle fingers. Cannon fodder at best.

It was a harrowing feeling, because it truly made him fear for what may happen to his dear little sister without him around.

So really, one should be more sympathetic when his turn did come up and his only reaction was to fall to his knees in despair.

He had two days to make preparations. Then he'd be sent out with the rest of the sheep to the slaughter.

-

"You're leaving?!" Joey Drew, as slow as he was to move about without that silly looking cane of his, was much too fast getting to his feet for Sammy's liking. He shot up from his seat like a serpent ready to strike at any moment.

The safety of a desk between a scared mouse and a vile snake was a comfort.

"I don't have a choice in the matter." The blond kept his composure despite knowing quite well what Joey was more than capable of doing if he felt like he'd been crossed. He'd rather be scorned by the devil than be labeled a traitor to his country.

One of these outcomes had a 50% chance of survival. "I've been drafted. In two days I'll be sent off to die in a nonsensical war."

"But your obligations to the studio! We need you here to put a tune to the cartoons!"

"My obligations?! Joey, I've been drafted. I can't kindly decline!" Sammy exclaimed in disbelief. "It's not like picking what you want to eat at lunch. If I try to skirt around this I'll be as good as dead."

"If you go you'll most certainly be dead, and then who's going to compose for the studio?!" Joey's tone had a hint of accusation, as if Sammy wanted this to happen. Might as well blame him for the war while he was at it.

"It's a fucking cartoon, Joey! My life is worth more than your stupid pictures!" His blood was beginning to boil. "I'm leaving and that's that. I'm dropping off the rest of my scores so Jack can finish them up, and I'm conducting the band one last time today. But tomorrow I ain't coming in because I'm helping my sister move out."

"You can't do this to me! How am I supposed to find a composer on such short notice?!" Joey slammed his hands on the table. From the looks of it, he was seething.

"Figure it out. You're the boss aren't you?!" Sammy turned away from the shaking Joey and walked out of his office. He felt strangely lighter on his feet. For once, arguing with his employer didn't make him feel vulnerable.

It was great, despite the circumstances.

-

"I can't believe you're going to war... Sammy that's..." Jack's reaction to the news was a tearful one. It was quite sobering after getting a little giddy from getting under Joey's skin with no real consequences. "I'm gonna miss you."

"Aww... I'll miss you too, you big softy." The blond gave the shorter and pudgier man a pat on the shoulder, allowing him to squeeze his midsection in a tight hug. "You're going to be the man of the house now. Don't let the band trample over you... Those savages can sniff out weakness like a pack of hungry hyenas."

"They're not that bad. You're just easy to rile up, is all." Jack teased, laughing when Sammy gave him a pointed look.

"You know as well as I do that Joey will go after the head of a department if the lackeys slack off." He ignored the few glares he got from said 'lackeys'. "And this bunch gets what it deserves for being a bunch of children on the job."

"Can you leave sooner?!"

"Fuck you too Johnny! I hope your pipe organ falls on you!"

Jack cackled, which got a few other band members to crack up as well. Sammy too found himself smiling. Despite the frustration of leading this group of hellions through a carefully composed song, he'd miss the few occasionally humorous banters and mishaps.

He'd especially miss his good friend and pal. He could only hope the stress wouldn't get to Jack while he was away.

-

People either gave him knowing pitiful looks, complimented his bravery in confronting Joey over his leaving on such short notice, or gave him a vague 'nice working with you, good luck' sort of gesture.

Word had spread through the departments and Sammy felt genuinely impressed at how quickly people went from detesting his presence to sucking up just to save face. No one wanted to be that one guy who was a dick to a soon to be dead patriot.

Susie absolutely smothered him with tearful kisses and tight hugs. She was a mess and, in return, he felt a mess as well.

He didn't want to leave...

"I'll see you off tomorrow." She whispered in his ear during a particularly long hug in the recording booth. "For good luck."

"Thank you doll..." He held on to her for as long as he could. "I'm going to miss this."

"Getting cried on?"

"Just being with you. You make my world so much brighter..."

"Sammy Lawrence you're such a sap, I love you." Susie giggles into his chest.

"Love you too Susiebell."

They'd parted ways, Sammy to collect his belongings and Susie to freshen up in one of the women's bathrooms.

On the way he encountered Norman while passing by the stairs that lead to his booth.

"Who'd have thought..."

"Hm?" He looked up at the projectionist who was staring down from his vantage point. Norman backed off and went for the stairs, meeting him halfway.

"My pa was military. He did things a particular sorta way." Norman explained "Includin' raising his kids in a rather peculiar fashion."

"That would explain your... Eccentricity." Sammy rolled his eyes, which got a laugh out of the older man.

"N'aw. I'm just the weird one... My siblings are pretty normal folk." He chuckled "But I digress. Thing is, my pa would wake us up at 5 in the morning, to do drills with us. 'Case of emergency he always did say... There's a war out there now and yous would think they'd call on me to help."

"Haven't they?" Sammy frowned.

"No." Norman's smile gradually faded. "My eye. It ain't no good, so they decided to call on my little brother instead..."

"....Shit."

"Uh-huh. Was lookin' for ya to tell ya. Your sister can still move in. Nelson's just gonna be the head o' the house instead."

"What about income? Who'll pay the rent and bills?" He felt uneasy about the situation. "They're still too young."

"I'll help with expenses ta best I can, but my little niece and nephew is looking for work. I'd advise your sister do ta same. Times gonna get rough Sammy."

"They are... Thanks Norman." The blond worried his bottom lip. "For helping."

"Well I'll be... Sammy Lawrence thankin' me for being a decent fella. What a day."

"Fuck you."

"You offerin' dinner first?"

"GOD!" He threw up his hands in defeat, which got a good hearty laugh out of the projectionist. "I'll be around your brother's tomorrow then. Good luck with Drew. I got a feeling he'll be extra surly in my absence."

"Can't imagine why. Poor Grant will go nuts if he hires an entire orchestra's worth o' folks to substitute yous."

The music director laughed and went back to what he'd been set to do. It felt nice to hear that he was worth an entire orchestra in someone's eyes.

He hoped Norman wouldn't have a hard time.

-

Saying goodbye to his sister felt like a death march in its own right. He spent the entire day helping her move her belongings to the younger Polks's house. Her two friends were good help, and they even offered him tea and told him to rest whenever he got winded.

The boy, Nelson, warned him that he'd need to train his resistance if he wanted to survive the military drills. The family cat was much more sympathetic, seeming less worried about his physical capacity and more content with having a warm lap to sit on and a set of dexterous fingers to give it some good scratches.

When they'd finished, Sammy had taken his sister out to lunch. They'd run around town just having fun, something he'd rarely been able to do while working at the studio.

Then came the time to go.

To his surprise the train station was packed with a few studio workers.

Susie, Norman, Jack, Wally, Emma, Shawn, Grant and even a few of the band members had come to see him off.

He wasn't ashamed to admit he cried like a baby getting to say goodbye all over again. It felt good to be cared about, even if he wasn't the easiest person to be around of. The only other person that cried just as hard was his poor sister.

"Please come back, I can't lose my grumpy brother." The pleading broke his heart. He couldn't promise he'd come back which was what made this so upsetting.

"I'm not grumpy, just misunderstood." He retorted playfully in between hiccups.

"You're a grumpy butt, grumpiest goof there ever was." A tearful chuckle. His little Abby was flushed and covered in snot and tears. They were both very gross criers.

"Slander! I'm a misunderstood suffering artist." They pulled away and Sammy made sure to take a handkerchief from his pocket and begin trying to clean his sister's face. "Be good to your little friends. I'll try to write to you as much as I can..."

"I will... Please be careful Samuel." She pulled that old doll he'd given her and handed it over to him. Seamus had seen better days, well loved that he was. "Both of you have to come back."

He took her doll and smiled a sincere but rather sad smile.

"I'll do my best Abigail."

His best was not enough, but damn if he wasn't a stubborn son of a bitch. He'd return with her doll, even if he had to drag himself all the way back.

-

Henry gave him a sympathetic look as both descended the lift with Boris looking at them uneasily. They'd pleased Alice enough that they'd gotten the tommy gun from her to complete the last task on her list of demands.

Sammy glanced at the cartoonist with a sad and tired expression. His prosthetic pinkie tapping against his ruined prosthetic arm.

It had already been clunky enough. After a few hits from a Piper, it had become virtually useless other than as a makeshift instrument.

"Are you ready?" Henry asked.

"No... But I never am for this part."

The lift stopped on level 14, and Sammy walked forward. Stamping his feet and kicking up as much ink as possible.

The shrill screech of the Projectionist filled the room as the twisted horror that Norman Polk had become ran forward to evicerate whomever dared intrude upon its domain.

Henry shot it down effortlessly and left Sammy to kneel beside the fallen beast.

The blond sighed sadly, staring at the dying creature with pity, before gently brushing it's back. He could hear Henry moving around, collecting the hearts.

"Shhh... Hush now." He continued to comfort what had once been a friend, feeling the burning gaze of Alice upon him. Judging him. "Sheep, sheep, sheep, It's time for sleep. Rest your head. It's time for bed. In the morning, you may wake. Or in the morning, you'll be dead..."

If it appreciated not being alone as it died, the Projectionist didn't give any indication. But the gentle pawing at his leg made Sammy hopeful that something of Norman remained to thank him before the poor creature went limp for good.

It would reform with no memory of his kindness, but it made his soul feel less heavy with guilt.

"Such a pity." Alice taunted from above. "If only you'd cared and stayed... Maybe less of us would have suffered so greatly."

"I doubt that Susiebell." He replied, uncaring if he would end up enraging her for denying her new identity. "I doubt that..."

The battlefield took his arm and a finger, and maybe a little bit of his sanity, but that studio took much more from everyone else. It took their mind, soul and body.

What was left made Sammy feel hopeless.

[atamascolily]

Lily reads Star Wars: Red Harvest, part six

In which EVERYTHING IS ON FIRE (and no, I do not exaggerate). Eat your heart out--oh, wait, sorry, eat someone else’s heart out. My bad.

(If you’re just joining me, check out the “Red Harvest” tag on my blog for previous posts)

We left off with Darth Scabrous waiting for Zo in the library. There's the obligatory villain monologue with some much-needed backstory.

“This library,” he said, “is the oldest part of the academy, older even than the tower itself. It was constructed over a thousand years ago by a Sith Lord named Darth Drear. He founded the academy, back when the planet itself was young. The ancient writings tell about how he used his first students as laborers. For hundreds of years, the Masters at the academy believed that a good many of those students died down in these very chambers, using the Force to move hundreds of tons of snow and ice and dig out these corridors and chambers to house Drear’s vast collection of … specimens. It was thought that Drear worked the students until they died from exhaustion.”

Blah blah blah Sith holocron blah blah blah eternal life. The usual stuff.

“Before he died, Darth Drear wrote of the final stage of the process—the step that he himself was never able to achieve. He dispatched his sentries to a nearby planet to abduct a Jedi and bring him to the secret temple underneath the library. After ingesting the elixir, in the final hours before his body gave in completely, under exactly the right circumstances and conditions, Drear planned to use a ceremonial Sith sword to cut open the Jedi’s chest while he was still alive, and eat his heart. Only then, with that final infusion of midi-cholorians still warm from the Jedi’s blood, would the decay process be held back—granting the Sith Lord his ultimate immortality.”

I TOLD YOU THEY WENT THERE.

The plant!zombies show up again - turns out they weren't really dead! They carry Zo down to the Secret Sith Basement at Scabrous's command, where the sacrifice is to take place. But don’t worry, not!Qui-gon is in hot pursuit! The tree librarian grabs not!Qui-Gon and dangles him in the air. I am LIVING for this. “No need for your weapon here,” the voice said. “Not in this place of learning. We are both learned beings, are we not? Enlightened and informed by the written word. No need for the encumbrances of physical violence.” It uttered another bulky, dusty chuckle. “Look upon me, if you like. Seek my face.”

There's a bunch of book avalanches. not!Qui-Gon  goes into the tree!Librarian's head at his own urging and sees his memories

It was the librarian’s name, Trace realized, his patronymic, and somehow he knew that on his home planet it meant “lover of knowledge,” a perfect choice for—

HOW DID HE END UP ON A SITH PLANET AS THE SITH LIBRARIAN IF HE WASN'T ACTUALLY EVIL?? Sadly, we don't get answers.

Also, more relevant to the plot, not!Qui-Gon sees the secret Sith basement being built and gets caught up on all the backstory that Scabrous already revealed. Then everything catches on fire and not!Qui-Gon uses the Force to retrieve his lightsaber and create an air bubble to ward off the flames.

He looked at the lightsaber, laboring to evacuate every other thought from his mind. At the Jedi Temple, they had taught that it was never a matter of manipulating the object, but of eliminating the space that separated you from it. Yet at this moment, the object in question had never felt so far away....

The timing of what happened next was critical. Deactivating the bubble, he opened his hand, and the lightsaber flew into it. Its handle was almost too hot to hold, but the solidity of it had never felt better in his life.

I like this attention to detail in my Star Wars.

Not!Qui-gon gets pulled down to the basement via plant zombies for the final showdown as the library burns around him.Good-bye, Tree Librarian -- you may have been evil at the end, or perhaps this whole time, but you were fucking rad.

The mechanic is still alive and in hiding. He gets lured out by Kindra's pleading, only to reveal it was a trap by the zombies and she's a prisoner. The zombies rip her to pieces but the mechanic gets away. I’m so mad because even though I knew it was a trap, and I knew she was going to die, I hoped she got a more badass ending. Sigh.

Meanwhile, the bounty hunter and the newly liberated HK droid discover the zombies are hiding INSIDE the Tauntauns, a la Aliens and it's gross, and now we have zombie tauntauns, too. Turns out the HK droid hates the Sith too! But the bounty hunter got sprayed with tauntaun spit so now he's infected. Good thing droids can't get this... right?

Scabrous tries to kill Zo but not!Qui-gon makes a dramatic entrance and stops him. Not!Qui-gon gets murdered while Zo watches in horror and... I guess he really has more in common with Qui-Gon than I initially thought!

Scabrous transforms into his final form, but the orchid wakes up just in time, and Zo tells it to grow while she starts going to town on the Scabrous and slaughters him with his own sword. It doesn't take, so she switches to her brother's lightsaber, which does better, since it actually cauterizes.

She climbs out of the pit after Scabrous is dead, only to find the rest of the zombie horde waiting for her. The bounty hunter and droid rescue her, but they're attacked by the academy's perimeter cannons, so everthing gets worse fast. The droid jumps out and turns to the lasers on the tower, destroying everything - including the orchid if it's still alive? I'm a little fuzzy on the details here. Fortunately, the mechanic is flying the plane and he's okay.

Zo goes into the trophy room, only to find that the bounty hunter is now a zombie, but he locks himself in a cage before he turns and tells Zo to send him out the airlock, which she does--along with the entire grisly contents of the room, and a last zombie stowaway. FINAL GIRL VICTORY.

Zo returns to Jedi Greenhouse Planet, traumatized but alive. Turns out the guy who we thought was dead in the bounty hunter attack at the beginning of the book is actually alive, so that's good. There's a new orchid waiting for her:

You were with my seed-brother, the orchid said, arching toward her. Is that true?

Yes, I was, she told it, and thought about the voice of the first orchid, the one that she still heard in her mind. I still am, in a way. He saved my life.

Really?

Bennis smiled again, the indulgent smile of a proud parent, and gave the orchid a small pat.

D'awwww. Wait, so the original orchid isn’t really dead? She can still hear him even though it’s gone and they’re separated? Did I miss something in the tumult of the finale?? Or is Zo being metaphorical here?

Also, I’m so curious how the Jedi just... got another orchid so quickly. In our world, orchids can be clonally propagated in HUGE batches, so the AgriCorps could potentially be churning these things out at a massive rate. This raises WAY more world-building questions that this book is NOT going to answer, and it frustrates me, but I doubt the author knows much about actual orchids, so... *shrugs*

But cuteness aside, Zo decides she'd rather study on the Jedi Temple at Coruscant (the mechanic will take her) because she has too much PTSD. Also, this means that if anybody else tries to kidnap the new orchid, they won’t get Zo! I don’t know why the Jedi are even raising these orchids, given that they’re in demand on the Sith black market. Didn’t Zo explain they were the critical ingredient for an awful zombie plague?? DID NOBODY LEARN FROM THIS EXPERIENCE??

This is supposed to be a happy/hopeful ending, and it kinda is, but Zo apparently doesn’t know / the author forgot that the Jedi Temple was destroyed when Corsucant got sacked eight years earlier (as Trace tells us in his introductory scene)... which means she's walking into ANOTHER haunted temple nightmare and doesn't realize it yet. We'll call it.. Red Harvest II: Coruscant Nights, or maybe just Blue Harvest. How about that??

Frode would be waiting for her with the ship, ready to take her back to Coruscant, and whatever might be waiting for her there. The mechanic would be good traveling company, she sensed—there was a low-key air about him that bespoke dozens of untold stories, events that had made up his life and taken him to the unlikely destination of Odacer-Faustin. She felt herself already beginning to trust him.

Wow, I was not expecting this dude to survive, but okay. Also, he got tagged in the beginning as kinda greedy (scuttling the engines of the other bounty hunters to sell) and kinda lazy/stupid/opportunistic/desperate (for ending up as the mechanic for Sith Hogwarts in the first place). But okay, whatever, I guess.

And the moral:

The future was scary, but you couldn’t avoid it, anymore than you could outrun the past.

OR  A MASSIVE ZOMBIE HORDE, AM I RIGHT??

Wow, that was a trip.

I feel like this was better than I had any right to expect from the premise, but still felt like a B-grade horror movie. I like the tantalizing hints of what world-building we do get, and I think this novel is excellent fodder for future horror/Halloween fics. Otherwise, I’d skip this unless you are a “must read everything in Legends” purist, enjoy Sith shit, enjoy watching Sith die in horrific ways, and/or a diehard plant nerd like me.

RANDOM TRIVIA: Wookiepeedia says the first draft had a character named  "Middish Sunblade, modeled after Holden Caulfield, but Sunblade was removed from the rewrite because he was whiny and nobody could stand him," which is just too true and too funny for words. Also, an actually-in-character Holden Caulfield expy would last approximately 30 seconds at Sith Hogwarts before being stabbed... I’m just saying.