#like why do you think roleswap works exist

[madwheelerz]

Okay, like, what is up with y'all these days. Why are you going after the literal backbones of the fandom right now? The artists and the writers are what are holding it together and you decide it's a good idea to harrass them?

Over what a haircut? A story that doesn't suit your tastes? Newsflash move on. You don't have to look, you don't have to read. Go be miserable by yourself.

All the complaints about a "dead tag" lmao, you're about to see what a real "dead tag" looks like if you aren't nicer, tf.

[jojo-schmo]

hi jojo! im just wondering but ive been wanting to make a comic for a little while but im not too sure where to start 😅. i really love your style of art and your forgotten land roleswap, and i was wondering if you had any tips for beginners?

Hello, hello! Thank you for enjoying my Forgotten Land Roleswap comic, it means a lot! <3

I'm very honored that people have been asking me for tips and advice. All of this is coming from a hobbyist who draws these comics purely for fun outside of my regular day job. Some of my methods would probably deal psychic damage to a professional, LOL. But I'm more than happy to share some things I've personally learned! :)

First of all, the book, "Understanding Comics" by Scott McCloud ROCKS. It literally gave me a new dimension to understand the medium of comics and how it presents ideas and emotions to readers! And I haven't even had the chance to finish it all the way! I'm very happy I own a copy and I recommend having one of your own if you can, but it's archived here if you want to read it :D

I also like analyzing other comics and thinking about how they get information across to me as a reader. It's helped me learn more effective ways to visually tell a story, like what to include in a frame, how zooming in or out affects the feeling from the panel, maybe building a scene by focusing on other stuff if someone is talking a lot... etc.

ANYWAYS-! Some other tips I've learned through my personal experience-

I had to overcome a lot of negative self-talk in order to tackle a huge comic project like this and stay committed. I was a pretty severe self-deprecator for most of my life so far, and getting help has allowed me to catch myself when I'm slipping back into those habits, look in the mirror, and go, "NO, JOJO! You pour your heart into what you make and that is a wonderful thing! You are appreciated and loved and you deserve to have fun making something you are passionate about!!" Some examples of the negative self-talk I catch myself in....

"I'm a noob at writing and making a story interesting... What's the point of even trying?"

When it comes to starting a project, whether it's 2 pages or 2000 pages, is to just jump in and start! It's okay to be a little insecure or nervous about your technical art skills, writing skills, etc... But writing a "bad" scene is better than no scene- because you can always edit a "bad" scene down the line, but what can you do with nothing? Nothing!! I also put "bad" in quotation marks because I am trying to use that term less, and instead call them "early drafts." or "works in progress."

The first Roleswap scene I fleshed-out was the first Bandee boss fight, in May 2022. I made this drawing on an impulse, getting my ideas down on the page without thinking about the technical stuff like comic panel borders. I consider it like a "pilot episode" almost, haha. The final project is going to be very different from how things play out here. But it got me interested in the concept and excited to see where I could take it, and I made the decision to commit to an entire game plot's worth of AU comics!!

Also, what's the point in trying you ask? The point is to have fun! Making a fan comic in my free time means I don't have restrictions like deadlines, nobody's telling me what I can and can't write, and I can make the story as long or as short as I want! I have full control, which means the world I'm writing is all mine to create! Yes, with a fan comic there is a pre-established world with existing characters. But a universe like Kirby has enough open-ended concepts for people to take basic concepts in the world and take them to whole new levels! I think that's why there are so many amazing fan interpretations of Kirby characters and OCs. The rules are so vague, you can just make up your own a lot of the time!! And it's a wonderful exercise to learn skills for someday building an original world with all original characters from scratch! Magical!!!

"I'm not good enough to make a comic. I don't understand perspective or color and other stuff. Anything I make will look bad.

I once read a two panel comic on here. I can't find it anymore but I remember most of it. First panel showed the artist looking at what they're drawing on their tablet, looking defeated and sad. "Man, I don't even know how to draw this....."The next panel was like them smiling and shrugging, I think rainbows and sparkles were coming out of their tablet, ".....I GUESS I'LL JUST HAVE TO DRAW IT SHITTY!! :D "

IF ANYONE KNOWS THIS COMIC I'M REFERENCING, PLEASE TELL ME AND I'LL LINK IT!!! Because it permanently and positively changed my brain chemistry.

No kidding, making the decision to just do my best even if it's not perfect, helped me a LOT. I was always waiting to "reach a certain level" to tackle a huge project because I felt like I'd never do it justice at my current state. Except I had been telling myself that kind of stuff for years and I still didn't start any projects!!

So the day I said, "Oh well! If I draw backgrounds shitty, then it is what it is! I'll learn from it and draw the next background a little better," Was the day I could commit fully to the project. I'll keep studying how to draw them better for my own benefit, but I won't let my skill issues stop me from even trying!

And for my limited confidence in full-color art, I solved that by making the comic in black and white with no-to-minimal shading lolol. Because I can only address one skill issue at a time before it takes me 25 years to finish this HAHAHA.

It saves a BUNCH of time to work with skill issues rather than against them! Because at least experience is gained in other ways, and who knows, maybe that new knowledge will help address the skill issues someday! So identifying your personal skill issues and deciding which one to try to grow stronger, and which one to work around, could help with big projects!

"Nobody will read this. I'm going to put months or years of my life into a dumb little thing nobody will even care about."

Learning how to draw for my own enjoyment instead of somebody else's was one of the biggest breakthroughs I ever made. Enjoying the feeling of being challenged artistically and just doing my best, even if it's not technically perfect, is the reason why I was even able to start this!

And just because someone doesn't directly like, comment or whatever on a post doesn't mean nobody saw it! I used to get really down on myself for the lack of engagement on my art on other websites.

I was a lurker for pretty much my entire teenage years and never posted my own stuff or commented much. But that didn't take away the fact that I really enjoyed the things I saw online. Those positive feelings were real to me, even when I didn't know how to articulate it in words. Granted, I grew up into a Words of Affirmation main, and I use words to tell people the positive things I think about them as much as I can! But I know not everyone prefers words to express themselves. So I think about the people that I don't know enjoy my work- that just because I don't see it doesn't mean I didn't make a positive impact on someone by sharing my stories.

THIS IS GETTING LONG-- UHHH, STORY TIPS!!

If you work best on technology, start building the story in a Notes app, or a Google Doc! If you work best with pen and paper, start a notebook and rearrange stuff as you need to!

Or if you're chaotic like me, a mix of tech and paper!! I bought a notebook with ring binding so I can remove and rearrange pages of drafts as much as I wanted to! Like here's two very rough concept pages of one Chapter 1 scene made months apart.

I'd say planning out the biggest basic plot points and then filling in between as I went was most helpful! I also have separate notes for character motivations, important story-changing events, etc... So I can have my own reference when I'm writing new scenes!

Okay this was a lot, sorry about the yapping! Hopefully it helps even a tiny bit. If you have any specific questions I'm happy to talk about my experience in the creation process! Or elaborate on anything I said above.

And finally, because I'm not a professional there are probably plenty of other tactics that could work better for some people. My ADHD probably doesn't help with the chaos of my process either, HAHA. But thank you for reading this far and enjoying the peek into the rainbow glitter and soap bubbles that inhabit the right side of my brain, heehee.

[yellowocaballero]

i dont know if this something you put a lot of thought into but it seems like you might and im curious so, what are some of your favorite themes to write about/the themes that interest you in writing or media?

Oh wow, good question. I put both a lot of thought and very little into the themes of my work. I always sit down and decide what I'm saying, and the meaning of the story, but some things always emerge in the writing. I usually discover what a story is actually about as I'm writing it. It's usually only after I finish the work that I realize what themes I had put in there, which seems like it should be bad. I think this means that a lot of my themes come through subconsciously. They're typically just...things I think about a lot.

I think the one thing I keep on coming back to is *tumblr voice* the mortifying ordeal of being known. That entire article, including the image of walking down a hundred stories of hell before reaching heaven, reconfigured my brain. It's just so damn hard to exist in a world with other people in it. There's an inevitability to hurting each other, but the love's worth it. Playing The World Ends With You at a vulnerable age primed me for obsession with this. That one quote from The Little Prince, ya know.

Generational trauma, cycles of trauma and abuse, and the long-term impact of trauma comes up a lot for me too. How being fucked up makes you fuck up others, the long-term consequences of being fucked up, the coping mechanisms we develop as a result. The ugly side of trauma and mental illness, the way we lash out and hurt people. I talk about escapism a lot, and the impact that has on you and the people around you long-term. This is usually exemplified through amnesia plotlines. This is a deep cut, but the Warchild series by Karin Lowachee had the best take on this I've read in a book.

Non-traditional love. I end up writing a lot of sibling dynamics, but I like creating unnamable and undefinable relationships. A lot of things I write just become very aro and asexual narratives. Love that saves. Love that isn't enough, but it still matters. The other side of love, which is grief.

I could go on. Forgiving yourself. Struggling to determine how to be a good person. How your identity & the intersections of your identity affect who you are. Power and power dynamics. A LOT of man vs self stories, like a lot a lot (I'm not overly interested by villains). The experience of being mentally ill and navigating the world as a mentally ill and/or disabled person. The differences between navigating the world as a man or a woman. I write a lot, so a lot of stuff tends to come up, lol. Roleswaps - fucking, somehow, for some reason, WHY, WHY DO I WRITE SO MUCH OF THEM -

Thanks for the ask, I had to do some self-reflection to answer it! I never really realize I'm writing about these things until I am, again. They're just all part of my framework of how I understand the world. Everybody has those, but when you're a writer it's easier to pull them out and microscope them.

[rulanarinrush]

My dra fics link masterlist

Now that I have over 50 works for (s)dra (it's mostly just the first game and drabbles), I think it's probably not only going to be hard but also extremely spammy and annoying if I try make a post for every single dra fic. So here I will try to post the links to some of them sorted by pairing.

I'll do my best with regards to warnings, but please please I implore you to read all the tags before you read the fic for content warnings. Some of my fics have canon typical vioIence, canon typical su1cide themes(mostly Utsuro), etc. Most of my fics have spoilers for the games. Back out if you need to. Below the cut are the fics.

No pairings:

the fictionalist (Kinjo, ch5 kinjo's su1cidal thoughts warning, drabble).

bury the skin of your face (Utsuro, Akane, drabble)

jettison(Yamato, Mikako, spoilers for Mikako's backstory, drabble)

dies irae(Kinji, drabble, spoilers for Ch3)

around the memory rondo (Mikako, Yamato, Kinji, Kakeru, Satsuki, content warning for character d3ath and implied su1cide.)

moment, if (Mikako, Yamato)

composites, missing. (Kinjo, spoilers, drabble)

bodysuit (real Yuki, spoilers, drabble)

Yamato/Utsuro(more in multipairings):

pareidolia (spoilers)

baptism of the bodhisattva (spoilers, sexual content)

innocent light (sexual content, drabble)

incorrect conclusions (spoilers, drabble)

in your hands, ruffle. judgement (sexual content, crossdressing, spoilers, drabble)

eleemosyna (spoilers, drabble)

folie à deux (spoilers, drabble)

salvation of mind (spoilers, drabble)

existence over essence, reverse! (spoilers, drabble)

lip service (spoilers, drabble)

hearth (drabble)

Yuki/Kinjo (more in multipairings)

tip the scales (spoilers, double drabble)

ownership (spoilers, drabble).

trust (spoilers, drabble)

Mikako/Akane(more in the multipairings)

unsolvable girl(spoilers)

condemnation (spoilers, drabble)

Kinji/Kinjo(all spoilers & drabbles)

eucharist

paradox of ravens

judge judge executioner!

Utsuro|Yuki/ Mikako(all spoilers & drabbles)

the brother a rose, the sister a weed

my love is violent enough for the both of us (violence warning)

Pairings with 1-2 fics/multipairing fics:

by nature, i love (Haruhiko/Satsuki, character d3ath, tripple drabble)

cold, uninviting (Rei/Mikako, drabble)

giving (Rei/Mikako, drabble)

apriori (Emma/Kokoro, spoilers, implied character d3ath, drabble)

zurückspulen (Nikei/Mikado, spoilers, drabble)

sweet treats for sweet girls (Satsuki/Inori, drabble)

grounded (Akane/Ayame, drabble)

cracks in the plan (Akane/Ayame, spoilers, implied character d3ath, drabble)

lemon drop (Akane/Satsuki, drabble)

seven(lie), eight(true) (Akane/all the girls, Akane/Utsuro, spoilers)

dichotomy lover (Akane/Rei, Akane/Mikako, Akane/Ayame, spoilers, character d3ath)

not to step in the grave (Rei/Inori, drabble, spoilers)

in me, in me (Akane/Rei, Akane/Ayame, spoilers, implied character d3ath, drabble)

final wish of summer (Rei/Teruya, spoilers, implied character d3ath)

red of love (Rei/Teruya, spoilers)

the hedonistic treadmill for those lacking moral fiber (Utsuro/all the guys, sexual content)

lost love, new hatred, living bodies are an illusion (Kinjo/all the guys, bigtime spoilers)

Danganronpa Another IF fics

the dog underneath the train (Yamato/Utsuro)

ichor (Mikako/Akane)

kisaragi sibling roleswap au, inspired by edits by @anotherprofessional (Utsuro/Yamato, Utsuro/Mikako) warning these two have a lot of creepy sexual metaphors.

stomping on roses

i go where i am needed

I hope anyone that checks out this post finds something they liked!!! this was mostly a way for me to see what I've written and why are there so many yamatsuro fics im crying. all my utsuro/mikako fics are also a fuckin atrocity sorry

[v1leblood]

Which Servant do you think Taylor would have summoned in the Taylor/Shirou roleswap hypothetical? I feel like Oberon would work the best based on both Taylor's powerset and her ruthlessness, but obviously someone like that is an extreme edge case who'd never be able to be summoned in a Fuyuki system Grail War.

i actually genuinely don't know! i got asked this by a friend last night which is what prompted me to find the taylor shirou post and i'm still pretty stumped. my first thought was Domitian (not an existing servant currently (and probably will never be)) because we joke about taylor being what if julius caesar was a girl but as far as romans go she has more in common with Domitian (overlooked, weird, socially ostracized well meaning ruthless autocrat) BUT i'm sure there are other historical/mythological figures or existing servants that might fit, just. can't think about them off the top of my head

i do think Oberon (or rather, Vortigern specifically) fits well in some ways, especially since he's a vengeful champion of the scorned and disregarded, but like you said, he wouldn't fit into the fuyuki grail war and he's not even from the same History as any of the stuff in non-FGO grail wars

my thing with taylor in fuyuki specifically is that she wouldn't be anyone special/probably wouldn't even have bug powers even through magic because Her Deal is, narratively speaking, already represented in the Matous and Emiyas -- grotesque cyclical suffering with a bug motif for the former and contrasting ideals of heroism and complex relationships with the Self as person and Self as a platonic ideal/means-to-and end for the latter (and absent and/or dead parental figures for both) -- which is why i think her story would be about her relationship with her servant & struggling to survive (cockroach moment) rather than something big and important within the fuyuki grail war narrative

i do think if she existed in the nasuverse Outside of fuyuki grail war she could get away with having bug magic or magic based on her particular origin though, if not bugs probably something related to control/administration/army-of-small-things

[whumpbug]

In the roleswap au, what are Simon's powers? Are they the same as Archie's or something else?

Also as a bonus, what would Gene and Cassidy's powers be if they had any? Personally I feel like Gene's whole personality screams "commune with animals" but I don't know what do you think

YAYYY i was hoping for questions about the roleswap au (≧▽≦)

i kind of love this au because it would be so much more chaotic that the current au, which doesn't seem possible

✮⋆˙

a teeny tiny bit more about roleswap:

so in the roleswap au, simon's powers would be pretty much the same as archie's, but i want to say he maybe got them a different way.

i'm not sure exactly how though, since this au isn't fully fleshed out.. any suggestions are welcome!

archie would be the tired med student in this au, but their personalities are exactly the same. archie is still sunny and energetic and sweet and simon is still blunt and monotone.

the gist of the au would be archie BEGGING and PLEADING simon to just. rest. simon gets very focused on his work as a vigilante, and ignores his health more in the regular universe and it's the bane of archie's existence.

simon would be bleeding all over the floor, pale and shaking and on the verge of passing out, and he'd still go "i'm fine. i need to go make sure that lady got home safe." before promptly collapsing on archie's apartment floor.

UGH i just think they're silly

gene and cassidy powers:

OOOOOUH THIS IS FUN

so you are so right. i can't imagine gene with any other powers than something animal-related. i think he'd either have the ability to talk to them, or maybe even turn into them beast boy-style. or perhaps a combonation of both.. either way, he would be able to talk to calliope and i think thats a dream come true for him

as for cassidy, i had to think a bit more about him. i don't know why but the two ideas i had are vastly different from eachother. one was pyrokinesis (manipulation of fire) because i feel like if he was an element, that would be his and IDK i just think it suits him

but the other, slightly more logical, choice is shapeshifting. not only would it be great for his job to be able to change his appearance so drastically so quickly, but also i think its kind of representative of his inner turmoils. he doesn't feel like he has an identity outside of montana, and theres a lot of oppurtunity for identity angst when it comes to shapeshifters. bonus: he hides his scars with shapeshifting and the first person to see his real body is gene

✮⋆˙

thank you so much for the ask anon!!!!! i really should start fleshing out some of these aus they're SO fun

[13thdoodle]

That ask where 31 roleswap with Dani been living rent free in my brain n i finally can word shit out jsbzbbss

Because even in canon Vlad already have the best girl Dani who loved him a lot and yet she's still not enough for him. So 31 would be even more frustrating for Vlad, cause he would look the part but doesn't act the part

Danny would run his mouth and sass you with the confidence of a teenage boy who fear no gods, while 31 would just nods and be like ok fair

He looks so much like Danny but he doesnt even share his memories, so Vlad only have a 'Danny' who loved him unconditionally and followed his every order, but not the ones he fought n shared banters and history with

31 wont look at Maddie with love because to him, that's just a stranger that his dad really madly in love with for some reason. Which is not good if u want to drag the love of ur life into ur family and have his son not interested at her at all

And even their interests would be different. Danny loves the stars and wants to be an astronaut, 31 much rather people watching. He thinks the stars are pretty but thats about it, he much rather learn about people's behaviors and why they are doing things they do than he is travelling to space (tho that also cool)

31 would do whatever Vlad told him to do, which Vlad would love, but it would never be to the amount of how Danny would do it. Because Danny already have some of the leg work on it while 31 have to start from scratch

Just.. so many things would be so wrong if Vlad keep comparing 31 to Danny, because this child is supposed to be a perfect copy not a look alike. And 31 can't even pass as Danny to the Fentons, let alone him.

And just... oh the emotional trauma this man about to lay on 31 when he reveal his plans and his perfect clone to 31. The boy would absolutely be livid.

Because he had worked hard, by good heavens 31 had worked so hard in the short amount of time he existed. He tried his best, he followed everything Vlad told him to do, and it's all wrong. Everything is wrong. He didn't make enough banter, he didn't say the right words, he should've done that, he shouldn't have done this, its wrong wrong wrong wrong. Daniel would've done that, Daniel would do this. Always compared to this Daniel he never even met and he just doesnt understand why. Why can't Vlad just see him for who he is?

....man would it be fcked up or what if Vlad was so sure 31 was the perfect clone that he named him Daniel but turns out its not but the name already stuck so 31 get to keep being compared to this other mystical Daniel and it frustrate him even more, like is this what all 'Daniel' supposed to do? what??

And then Vlad told 31 that hey ok so ur a clone and i create you but ur not fully stable so I need you to grab Danny Phantom and bring him here so I can totally fix you. Imagine how excited 31 would be like yes his dad finally rely on him on something and he wont let his dad down. Imagine how desperate his fights would be with Danny, because this is his one and only chance to prove himself to Vlad.

He would feel bad but like he have to... he have to. His one chance to earn Vlad's love for him. And it all amount to nothing. Because Vlad dont give two shit about 31, he just want perfect copy of danny, sth 31 could never be. The betrayal would be *chef kiss*

The best part is Vlad is not even doing inherently super shady shit here, he's just being a dick to this child who thought the world of him

Anyway this been livin in my head for awhile now so have at u jdhdsbbsbs

[reptile-ruler]

The Great Assigning

Rapr week day 6: ROLESWAP.

Invaders Red and Purple are assigned their first mission by the delusional Almighty Tallest Zim.

Read on AO3.

The murmuring of the crowd sent flutters through Invader Red’s entire body. From the stage of the main hall on Conventia, the audience looked like a writhing ocean of swarming Irken soldiers. Thousands upon thousands of eyes watching them… and why? This event had come so suddenly, and he, among with his fellow Invader trainees, found themselves about to receive their first mission months before they even graduated.

It wasn’t his place to ask questions. The Almighty Tallest worked in mysterious ways. 

“Did you see the curly fries they had at the cafeteria?” Purple leaned in to ask, “I hope the Assigning goes fast because those fries smelled delicious.”

Maybe all the attention from the bustling crowd had dampened his appetite, or maybe it was just the nerves, but he couldn’t imagine wanting curly fries right at this moment. “We’re about to be assigned the mission of our lifetime, and you’re thinking about food?”

“Every moment without fries in my mouth is a moment lost, Red!”

He didn’t get much of a chance to argue, because at that moment the Announcer announced the arrival of the Almighty Tallest. They both straightened back into attention. All Invaders, and the crowd behind them, wiggled their antennae as pillars of flame exploded upwards, reaching the high ceiling, the heat feeling like a punch to Red’s cheeks.

A loud, grating laughter filled the hall long before he caught a glimpse of the Tallest. It originated from a platform descending from the ceiling and there he was. His armor was the same shade of pink as the Invader uniform (a signal of the empire he dreamed to build, perhaps, or maybe it just matched his eyes?) and both arms raised, his face split by the eye-crinkling grin that he carried.

“I think the flamethrowers are a bit much”, Purple whispered.

The Almighty Tallest overall was... a bit much. But they didn’t get to have an opinion about that. “Shush!”

“Just sayin’.”

Red shushed again, more violently, just as the platform reached the ground. The Tallest, of course, didn’t, floating in place high above his subjects. As he should, being the All-knowing and All-powerful, Almighty Tallest.

“My Invaders!” he spoke. “We finally meet. Be amazed by my tallness!”

They stood taught under his gaze as it wandered between them. Being the Elite of the Elite was one thing, but none of them were as superior as the Almighty Tallest. Not even Purple or he, who towered over their peers and were the Best of the Elite of the Elite. The Tallest wore a satisfied smirk, as though what he saw was to his liking. Red really hoped so–he’d worked his entire life to get here!

“As you may know you’re all here to be assigned your first enemy planet”, the Tallest said. That much was obvious. They were Invaders, it was their job! Or… should be, if they had finished training. “This shall mark the first step of Operation Impending Doom Two! My most brilliant plan yet! HAHAHAHA-”

Impending Doom… Two? Red had never heard of an Impending Doom One.

Purple must have had the same thought, because he couldn’t stop himself from blurting, “What happened to the first one?”

“Oh, I had to cancel Operation Impending Doom One”, the Tallest waved his hand around. “The Invaders weren’t good enough. Bunch of old squeedgers to the blarbsnortch, yup. Lame. They died from just one stomp with my Megadoomer.”

“What?” Red said, and immediately realized his mistake. 

“I had to stomp ‘em!” his Tallest said, looking more annoyed than anything. “Not good enough! But you… yes, you will not disappoint your Tallest Zim, will you?” A grin, one which made Red feel like he was prey being stared at by a predator, spread across his Tallest’s face. “No, you will not. I won’t allow it!”

Red glanced to his side to see how his co-Invaders reacted to this. He saw Purple’s throat bob as he swallowed, but even he seemed threatened enough to keep his big mouth shut. Of course, it wasn’t their place to question the Almighty Tallest, but…

He’d decided to personally kill the previous batch of Invaders. The world spun as Red searched his mind for reasons that they could have been dispatched. They couldn’t have been that much worse than the class currently standing on the stage of the Main Hall. In fact, those guys had actually graduated! 

While Red’s entire class had suddenly been rushed out of school to attend this Assigning… filling up the vacant slots. It all started to make sense now. 

The screen behind the Tallest lit up into a map, showing all known constellations and planets which were inhabitable or inhabited. Red recognized it immediately–he’d studied it every resting cycle for weeks to try to memorize which planets were marked for conquest and which ones weren’t. That was a test he was happy to not have to take. 

“THIS is how the Assigning is going to work!” the Tallest exclaimed. A table rose from the floor, and he picked up a small object from it. “I am going to throw this dart on the map, and wherever it hits, one of you is sent to conquer. Ingenious, right? Yes, it is, because your brilliant Almighty Tallest came up with it!”

No one argued, but Red could feel the desperation spreading across his classmates. This was ridiculous. 

Purple cleared this throat.

“My Tallest”, he began, head low and voice respectfully quiet, “I don’t mean to disrespect you, but can I ask why?”

A short beat of silence. It was enough for Red's brain to roar up with worst-case scenarios. The kinds of punishments Purple might endure for speaking up. What would he do if the only person he cared for got thrown into the depth of space? 

“Because I think it’ll be neat!” the Tallest grinned.

Purple didn’t press further. The Almighty Tallest’s smile softened for a bit, satisfied at getting his point across. 

“Step forward Invader Larb!”

And so Red watched the Invaders get assigned to enemy planets. Larb could barely hold back tears when he was assigned to Meekrob, despite having studied specifically the skills necessary to Invade Blorch or Vort. Skoodge was assigned to a sun, and when he pointed out that suns couldn’t really be invaded, the Tallest kicked him off the stage and laughed. Invader Tenn took it in stride when the dart landed on a planet that they actually had a peace treaty with. 

“Invader Purple!”

“Hoo boy”, Purple sighed as he stepped forward, leaving Red alone as the last unassigned Invader. 

The Tallest picked up a fittingly purple colored dart and inspected it, as though the dart itself held all the knowledge of the universe. Then he looked down at Purple and ficked it away. Not even looking at the map.

The dart hit the furthermost corner of the screen. Nothing existed even in the vicinity of that area. Purple stared at it. 

“There’s nothing there, my Tallest”, he said.

“Hm?” Zim looked over. “Oh, right. Well! Go there and conquer the nothing!”

“... How, sir?”

“Eh? Not my problem!”

Red felt nothing but sympathy as Purple nodded and stepped back. So it was his turn. His Tallest called for him and he stepped forward. Up close the height difference felt much more pronounced. He craned his neck upwards to salute, and forced himself to not avert his eyes as his Tallest judged him, looked him up and down like a megadonut on display at Plumpin’ Donuts on Foodcourtia. 

The Tallest reached for the table, but paused. “What? Where is my last dart?”

The table was empty, all darts apparently used, wedged into the digital map and no doubt ruining the screen. 

“Hey! Who planned this?” The Tallest looked around as though one of them were to blame. “Someone miscalculated how many darts I would need!”

The Invaders all shuffled. No one dared to answer, and, of course, none of them had been involved in counting enough darts anyway. 

The Almighty Tallest huffed. “Ugh. Useless. No matter! You!” He pointed at Red. ”Just go with the previous guy. Duo-mission. Yes. Crisis solved. By ZIM!”

Red blinked. Oh. He’d get to go with Purple. “Yes, my Tallest.” Before this Assigning, that would have felt wrong, but all things considered… it could have been worse. 

He could have been told to conquer a sun. 

His gaze wandered to the purple dart, placed right in a spot of dead space, with nothing for lightyears around it. At least he wouldn’t be alone. 

The Almighty Tallest concluded the Assigning with a few inspirational (or maybe delusional) words to the Invaders, and then to the soldiers in the audience. They were dismissed, and Red hurried up to Purple’s side as they walked straight to the curly fries stand.

“What a shipwreck!” Purple said. For once Red didn’t scold him for the borderline critique of their Tallest’s decisions. He just hummed.

Faced with the prospect of having to travel to the corner of known space, allegedly to ‘conquer’ it, while not having had the chance to even properly graduate… Red didn’t want to think about it. Hopefully the guy who sold fries sold drinks too, because he was going to need it, by Irk. 

Purple’s gloved fingers brushed past him, and he looked up. Ah yeah. That was the only upside, wasn’t it?

He’d have someone by his side.

@almightytallestevents

[thornfield13713]

RWBY au; Ozma & Salem roleswap (but not curse swap)

Muahaha! Yes! Yessss!

So. First thing is, their backstory has not changed...right up until the deaths of their daughters and the destruction of their kingdom. There is, however, one massive change - namely, it is Salem, not Oz, who got a visit from the Maidens. Salem was a lot harder to reach, but the reminder of her daughters in these flawed and ordinary humans touched something in her, and she couldn’t quite help but care for them, even knowing how quickly they would die. And, through them, she got to meet more humans, not as their goddess and queen, but as just another person. Ozma, however, without any such visits, sank into despair and misery over the course of his next few lifetimes and finally gave up on humanity altogether. Let the gods come and scour the world clean, and let it be over.

Ozma has never attempted to live in harmony with his hosts. They’re short-lived, pitiful things that will be dead between blink and another anyway, so what do their petty identities matter to him? He imposes his own mind and his own will on every host, though he is quite willing to take advantage of any social power or position that his hosts might possess in order to spread dissent and distrust among humanity and bring the Relics together to bring the gods back to put an end to the whole wretched world.

Salem cannot operate the way Oz does. For one thing, she looks...well, very like the Grimm, and Ozma was very quick to spread stories about a monstrous white witch who led humans astray to destroy them and feed them to Grimm. She cannot operate in the open, holding a formal teaching position and leading the world. So, she chooses to work through catspaws, people she thinks she can trust, to handle the public face of power and authority while Salem orchestrates things from behind the scenes. Her existence as ‘Salem’, the immortal, is a dead secret to everyone but her inner circle, including the heads of the four Huntsman Academies, and the Maidens. However, every few years she’ll adopt a human disguise to take up a teaching post at one Academy or other, just to keep things ticking over and get to know the next generation of potential allies. 

The Huntsman Academies were established at the suggestion of an anonymous woman after the assassination of the tyrannical last king of Vale, whose attempts to conquer the whole world were only foiled by an alliance of the other three Kingdoms against him. This was, as you may have guessed, Ozma, trying to unite the Relics by force, as subtler means had been consistently thwarted by Salem for the last few centuries.

Salem still hates the gods for what they did to her, and does not want them coming back to Remnant. She’s not overwhelmingly inclined to unite humanity either, except that it might make their lives that bit better, and at this point basically every person on Remnant is descended in some way from someone Salem once knew and liked, because if you go far enough back that’s just how it goes. She does, however, try to use her powers over the Grimm to keep them away from human settlements as best she can...at least, until people start muttering about why do they need Huntsmen, anyway, which she justifies as being for the greater good of protecting humanity.

[lizhly-writes]

my in progress orv fics as of 12/15/2020

that is: the ones that i believe will be long enough to actually be posted on ao3 and what i expect from them.  

1. knw and kdj have been related this entire time (cousin au)

do i know where this is going?  no.  but this one is projected to be a full rewrite of canon, because i hate myself, so i am going to reread orv while taking notes and you are going to get a fully plotted out rewrite of canon.  this is going to take literal years to complete.

2. kdj is a 14 year old magical girl and bihyung is his 15 year old lore master (miraculous ladybug)

literally the only reason why i wrote this was because i wanted to write the sequel story to this, so yeah.  this one is going to be another fully plotted out fic because i need to finish it to post the sequel.  probably going to be long, though not as long as cousin fic.  is it going to have a fully plotted out sequel? maybe!  depends on my will to live!  at the very least, you’ll get a sequel oneshot, so i can post the scene that started this madness.

3. the uncle baby kdj is pretty sure doesn’t exist helps his mom get a divorce (time travel)

actually going to be plotted out, but is meant just to be a reallllly long oneshot.  may receive a sequel because i imagine the domino effect would be pretty interesting to watch play out, but probably not.

4. hsy and kdj meet 10 years before canon (here)

started out as an attempt to make hsy x kdj work and got wildly out of hand and now has an actual plot.  is this actually going to be hsy x kdj?  who knows!  not me!  i have a beginning, middle, and end in mind, so: full fic on this one, too.  this will be so much shorter than the miraculous and cousin fic.

5. 28 yr old lgy is the responsible one because now he has to cart around three whole children (ageswap au, oldest to youngest swap)

i have no idea where this is going to go, but i’ve already written 950 words, so it’s most likely going to end up long enough to post on ao3.  so you’ll probably get at least one out-of-context oneshot.  while some part of me would like to take this seriously, you are hella not getting another canon rewrite out of me.

6. kdj accidentally sets an avatar loose in round 0

has a plot, but not a particularly long or complex one, so i’m thinking, like, either three chapters or one long one.   

7. the webnovel that becomes real is SSSSS-grade Infinite Regressor, not WOS

this one highly depends how seriously i decide to treat it.  because i definitely meant for this to be crack but now i’m kind of.  side-eying it.  is this going to be a shitpost oneshot or will this have 12 chapters?  unclear!

8. pre-scenario OC fic in which i subtly explore the idea that ysa has definitely murdered someone before

gonna be a oneshot. the beginning and end is set, i just need the middle part.  which i could actually just skip all together if i’m feeling lazy.  might end up as a twoshot if i decide that yes, i do, in fact, like this OC to the point of inspiration.

9. roleswap au (real people <-> characters, sort of)

same as 5 -- no idea where this is going to go but i’ve already written too much to say that i won’t have at least one oneshot in this universe.  again: while i would like to take this seriously, canon rewrites scare me.

10. knw and hdh went to the same high school before the scenarios and are actually kind of good friends

honestly i just wanted to see 1) hdh show up more often and 2) if i could make knw x hdh work despite the fact that hdh doesn’t show up enough for me to remember what his personality is like.  will it actually be knw x hdh? no fucking clue.  have ideas that are even in chronological order, but they’re mostly pre-scenario.

[velnoni]

BNHA Reverse/Roleswap AU Pt. 2

Ashido Mina - Drip

Quirk discrimination, whether you like it or not, was one of the common hate crimes in Musutafu and very common globally. At some point when 80% of the human population shown quirk use, ethical classes and conducts towards mutant quirks and such became a mandatory part of the school curriculum. Of course, bullies still existed.

It wasn’t bad for Mina per se, a lot of people said that her pink skin was pretty and that her fangs and horns weren’t so bad. It was mainly her eyes that caused her problems. Plus there were always other people who dealt with much worse. She was a fairly popular person at school, loud and kind. Even dragging ever the quiet Kirishima into conversations. The kind of person that’s the voice of the party.

But there were always some people whispering about her. About how she eats people or purposely burns them with her acid quirk when in truth that one time was an accident. She just got overly excited that's all.

“Is she a monster? What's with the horns?”

“Careful she might burn you.”

“With eyes like that, I wouldn’t want her touching me at all.”

Mina is a generally energetic person so it takes some time for the words to get to her. But when they do it leaves her a bit fragile, makes her smile a bit smaller. People like that...she has to protect when becoming a hero?

How it happens: It’s after she saves her two friends from Giga. People are a bit nicer to her and her social group grows until she hanging out with a few of those snooty popular kids. They invite her out to hang out after school at a game arcade and everything is going well. One of the girls asks her to meet her outside when she’s done dancing and by the time Mina goes out back almost everyone is waiting for her. She was confused because she was just meeting one person and the way everyone was looking at her was unnerving...

“What’s wrong Pinky? We just wanted to thank you properly for being cool, saving those freshmen and all.” In the end, they up kicking her and throwing food and such until she’s a literal mess.

“Why don’t you use your Quirk to protect you?!” one of them jeered.

“Useless as hell.” She screams when they tug on her horns.

"You do one decent thing and think you're hot stuff?" Someone is slapping her.

“What, you thought you could fit in? Yeah right!” after the barrage of name-calling they’ll finally let her go and Mina is utterly confused at what transpired. And after this encounter, the bullying slowly starts to get worse until at one point someone’s skin ends up getting burnt off. It was an accident. Truly it was, Mina was only defending herself from a swing but ends up getting suspended. Her dreams of becoming a hero were slowly drifting away like a running faucet. She starts to change bit by bit. If people want to treat her terribly, discriminate and call her a villain she might as well act like one.

It starts with petty shoplifting and eventually threatening to burn people if they didn’t hand over the money. At some point in time, when she’ll all grown up and working for a fashion agency she burnt two of the models with her acid to see how long her quirk could decompose the human body. She experiments on people that irk her nerves. She still keeps in contact with Kirishima from time to time.

Villain Name: Drip. Mainly because she got that drip as in dressing nice. Also refers to her quirk “Acid Drip” (get it?). She also thinks it sounds like a cool dance group. In all honesty, she’s a bit sloppy with her killings and tends to forget at times to watch herself. Almost got caught one time by the elder Ingenium. Her first time announcing herself was during a rave party and over 10 people received severe burns from her acid. Four didn’t make it. If a hero tries to ask why she does what she do she'll respond about the unfairness towards people with unique quirks. That no one bats an eye until it's too late.

"I just wanna have some fun that's all~"

Outfit: Think of a dark purple one-piece latex bodysuit. She wears a black see-through eyemask to hide her eyes.

[strange-lace]

I wrote a little something for my roleswapped traffic light trio AU! It’s of dubious quality and I’m posting it without any editing, but just take it!

“Guess now I know why you never talked about your family, huh?” Mei winced as Green helped her back on her feet, the numerous bruises on her body aching to remind her they exist. He had the decency to look ashamed, black hair now it’s true bright red and seemed to waver like flame with uncomfortable heat building up within his throat. Looks like using his flames after repressing them for who knows how long was like opening up a shaken soda, a sudden onslaught that was difficult to control due to built up pressure.

“Yes… I’m sorry though that I never told you Mei. I just… never knew how to broach the subject and I was…” He didn’t need to say more.

“You were worried I’d think you were faking our friendship this whole time to help your parents, weren’t you?” Green gave her a sheepish nod, words for once failing him. Mei could only give an exasperated sigh, a tired smile tugging at her lips. “Green, my dude, light of my life, my cinnamon apple… you are an idiot. Even if I had briefly thought that, you don’t go to the lengths you had to get information for parents you clearly hate. Besides, unless you guys can see the future, we’ve been friends long before I became the Monkie Kid.”

“So… you’re not mad?” Green didn’t protest as Mei leaned against him, his support a big help as they both began to walk through the woods back to the battle.

“Oh no, I’m absolutely furious, but not at you. Remind me to bury both your parents under a mountain when we’re done here. Because it means not only do they treat Demon Kid like garbage, they did the same to you, didn’t they?”

“Well… it wasn’t just them that led to me leaving but that’s a whole different story Mei. One that would take a while for me to explain and now is not the time to go through my entire tragic backstory.” Normally Mei would push a bit more but the sheer exhaustion weighing on her friend’s shoulder was enough for her to let things go… for now at least. She certainly exempt from the weariness that was just as heavy on her bones.

“It’s gonna be a pain dyeing this black again,” Green groaned as his fingers combed through his hair with distaste in a poor attempt to bring order back to the messy ponytail.

“I think red looks good on you though! Why not keep it that way? Not like anybody’s gonna connect techhead Green with the missing demon prince Red Son.” He was shaking his head before Mei even finished.

“You remember what we read in Demon Kid’s diary, he’s practically made it his life mission to find me and return me home. I don’t even want to touch the marriage thing right now. He may be nice enough to us, but we have no clue how far he’s willing to go with something like this. It’s better for everyone involved if Red Son remains missing. Preferably forever!”

Mei didn’t look impressed with this answer.

“Eventually someone’s going to find out y’know? And give him some credit, I doubt he’d go as far as you're worried. I mean… it’s Demon Kid, Green! Guy goes more out of his way to save us from other demons more times then he’s tried to kill us.”

“I’m sure he’d appreciate your faith in him Mei. But please, can we drop it for now. There’s more important things to worry about.” Mei would put her hands up in surrender if she still wasn’t relying on him to keep her legs going.

“Alright, but remember what I said: secrets have a nasty way of getting out, whether you want them to or not. Last thing I want is for you to get hurt because of this. And if push comes to shove, I’ll protect you. From your parents, Demon Kid, anybody who tries to drag you back to them. Go it?”

Green remained silent before giving Mei a brief hug and she didn’t need to hear him speak to feel his gratitude. They continued walking on out of the forest, ready to wrap things up and sleep for the next couple of days and allow their fatigued selves to rest.

Their mutual exhaustion was a good explanation as to why they failed to notice a small monkey-shaped puppet hiding within the tree canopy above, her red eyes gleefully broadcasting what it just witnessed to the other side of her mental link, with her creator.

To say Demon Kid was speechless was an understatement.

His prince was under his nose this whole time, hiding among humans and working with Sun Wukong’s successor. Not even Noodle Girl had known until just now.

His prince didn’t disappear but instead ran away from home.

They read his diary. 

They knew about his mission and fantasies of returning the prince home for who knows how long.

Demon Kid felt like all his hopes and dreams were crumbling around him with no one to catch him.

The anger, hurt, and betrayal were crushing him and before he knew it, he had thrown his makeshift throne across the room. It was only the sound of it crashing against it that snapped him out of it.

His breath was still ragged from his screaming but now his anger was more focused with a clear directive in mind.

He was going to hunt those two down to the ends of the Earth if he had to. 

And he was going to get answers from his prince or drag him home kicking and screaming.

“Ju.” Said puppet quickly snapped to attention, her left leg decorated with an ornate painting of an orchid growing and climbing the limb until stopping around her hip.

“Y-Yes Demon Kid?” She sounded cautious, as if afraid he would redirect his rage upon her. That was enough to make Demon Kid take a deep breath and calm himself, refusing to ever stoop that low.

“Get me my outfit that we’ve been preparing for the king’s victory. Seems we’ll be revealing the number sooner than expected.”

“Oh? But we were saving that for special occasions, sir. Why the change in plans?” Ju’s genuine curiosity was sweet enough to have Demon Kid cooing if he wasn’t determined to catch himself a demon.

“I’ve found him Ju, my prince. I know where he is now and I’m getting answers. I have to show I mean business as well, you understand?”

That had Ju and the other puppets in the vicinity to briefly freeze in shock before they broke out in cheers, seemingly unaware of the tension in their leader’s shoulders.

“Oh my goodness sir, this is a special occasion! You’ve been working so hard to find him and now it’s all going to be paid off! We have to prepare while you’re gone! There’s so much to do! GIRLS, GET THE ROYAL NUMBER OUT, OUR PRINCE IS COMING HOME!” And like that, Ju was off as she began to direct the rest of her comrades to what she could only imagine was going to be a momentous occasion for the royal family.

The chaos which blossomed from the announcement was enough to have Demon Kid thankful that the other demons of his ruler's court knew better to eavesdrop on him and his puppets. Last thing he wanted was this getting out before Demon Kid could get his answers.

He didn’t have the heart to correct Ju as she alongside a handful of female puppets that formed her group dragged Demon Kid along with the excitement of getting a bride ready for her wedding.

And if he didn’t listen to the whole conversation from Muffin, perhaps he could have shared that joy. Instead, he felt nothing but stone cold determination as the girls painted his face, prepared his hair, and dressed him with the elaborate Royal Number.

By the end of the process, Demon Kid himself wouldn’t have looked out of place among royalty. He was able to muster a proud smile as he looked over himself in the mirror before turning to Ju’s group.

“You did wonderful my dears. I’ll be off now, but please don’t go overboard on the place while I’m gone.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it sir!” Ju’s tone made it obvious she would find a loophole to his request, so Demon Kid simply sighed before he vanished in a whirlwind of smoke, a man on a mission.

He was coming for his prince and if need be, he would show those two the full extent of his powers if they didn’t give him the answers that he wanted.

[yellowocaballero]

The Crocodile's Dilemma: In Which Helen exploits Michael's Labor, Michael suffers an un-identity crisis, and unpaid internships should be illegal

It’s tough being a teenage embodiment of the Spiral. Your boss/wine aunt figure Helen’s a Tory, your inattentive cousin figure Mike Crew keeps attending philosophy classes and day drinking, and you’re pretty sure that this internship doesn’t have any dental. At least it’s good job experience for your future career in...being evil? But do you even want to be evil?

This small story is technically part of my Roleswap AU, but I specifically wrote it so that no knowledge is required. Still, if you’re wondering why Michael’s an eighteen(ish) year old, Mike Crew’s an Avatar of the Spiral, and everybody is obsessed with Melanie King, check it out. Still, no need. Rest under the cut.

Maybe Helen was right.

Not that Helen was ever strictly right, much as Helen was never wrong, but Michael just had to be doing this whole fear demon thing incorrectly. If someone had explained the whole fear demon thing to them two years ago (“Okay, so it’s like you’re the semi-sentient appendage of an extradimensional force of evil that has to consume trauma relentlessly in order to propagate its own debatable existence, also you’re nonbinary now, no those things are not strictly related, probably”), then they would have called them crazy. Which, of course, they were, but that wasn’t the point. So long as the point existed. So long as anything -

An essential theorem within quantum physics was the quantum Zeno effect. 

Simply put, it was the fact that a quantum state would decay if left alone, but does not decay under continuous observation. Even observing the results after the photon is produced leads to collapsing the wave function and loading a back-history as shown by delayed choice quantum eraser. If something was seen, it no longer existed; if something persisted unperceived, it would exist as long as it liked. 

So it was explained to Michael by the physics professor he was torturing that day. Michael had trapped the man in the physics building of his university, lured in by one too many late nights in his office and the persistent sense that his life was going nowhere meaningful. After a few classes spent sitting in on his Physics 101 class, maintaining constant and forever eye contact, Michael had eventually tricked the man into giving a persistent and ongoing physics lecture to an empty classroom, desperately trying to explain the inexplicable to a college freshman who did not care. Truly miserable, yet ultimately harmless - Michael’s favorite kind of trick. 

But, despite themself, Michael grew interested. They didn’t understand any of what the man was talking about, but that was all of the fun. Understanding ruined the magic of things; broke down the beauty of the universe into cogs and gears. No thanks. They could tell that it bothered the professor, that he said so much and yet knew nothing. That there was so much he would never know, and that he wasn’t so smart after all. How would any of his colleagues respect him?

“So photons degrade if they’re observed?” Michael asked one day, after...some period of time. They had raised their hand and everything, they were so proud of themself. Uni was just like secondary school after all. “Is that true of people too?”

The professor had sweated, deeply uncomfortable with Michael as a person and as a non-euclidean concept. “No - no, not at all. Humans are much more than photons -”

Michael grinned. It wasn’t quite right. “Are you sure?”

The professor sweated harder. “I - no, I’m not. But humans are constantly observed by - by the universe, or something.”

Michael grinned sharper. “Are you sure? Are you being observed right now? Are you sure?”

And the professor was not sure, not anymore, and the fragment of this man’s reality collapsed. 

Well, Michael thought to themself, slipping out of an improbable yellow door, that’s another Statement for the Magnus Institute. Not that they would read it. 

****

“Now, remember this - the first step to being a successful Avatar is presentation!”

Michael squinted at Helen dubiously. “I thought we were fear demons?”

Helen sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose with two sharp knife fingers. It looked as if it hurt quite a bit, but Michael reasoned that they had probably gone through the fifth dimension. “This is the stupidest dimension - fine, fine! Fear demons, then. It is absolutely vital that we conduct our business with style, grace, and the slightest sprinkling of pizazz!” 

Just for the flourish, Helen twirled her fingers, and a faint shower of confetti came raining down from the ceiling. Michael sneezed. 

“I thought it was vital that we harvest fear and trauma from people to propagate our cursed existence,” Michael said. 

Helen’s eyebrow twitched. “More than two things can be vital, Michael. Please pay attention. Now, as a demonstration, I’d like you to take a gander at that man over there.”

Obediently, Michael looked across the bar. They were sitting on barstools in a high-class pub, because Helen knew her worth and never settled for anything less, with glass counters and lots of private booths. But all pubs had their sad men drinking alone, and this one was no exception. 

This man wasn’t sullen and slow like a lot of them. He was wearing a nice suit and thin tie, looking straight out of Canary Wharf. Michael silently agreed with Helen’s choice - they took eat the rich very seriously, and also literally. He also seemed a little jumped up on something, with shaking hands and erratic eyes. 

“He looks happy,” Michael observed. “Think it’s his birthday?”

“He’s on cocaine, Michael,” Helen said flatly. “Cocaine. We are at a posh bar, and he is currently doing a line off his watch.”

Oh! Michael suddenly felt very uncool. They had never been one of those people in secondary school who did cocaine. They hadn’t been cool. “I knew that,” Michael bluffed. “What are we going to do to him?”

“Take the teenager as your intern, they said,” Helen groused, “it’s investing in the future, they said, it’ll stop them from eating you when they grow up, they said.” She sighed, jabbing a finger at the now very obviously coked up man who was staring at the bottles behind the bartender as if they were whispering secrets of the universe into his ear. Helen liked that one. “Use your intuition. Find a good angle to squeeze. What are his weaknesses to exploit?”

Oh, Michael knew how to do this. They shifted vibrations just a bit, dropping out of what Michael liked to call the ‘mild’ spectrum into the ‘spicy’ spectrum. They were distantly aware of a patron’s glass shattering. 

They squinted at the man, picking out his little fears and insecurities like Dionysus picking grapes. Maybe. Michael had gotten a C in English, but they were somewhat cognizant of the Spiral munching heavily on Bacchanalia. Sometimes they felt like some of those children who spoke in tongues and claimed to be from a past life. That had also been the Spiral.

“He owns a Nintendo NES,” Michael said confidently, absolutely sure that this was important. Helen groaned. “His house is painted white, and his girlfriend does tax fraud.”

“Something relevant?” Helen hinted desperately.

Michael just squinted at her. “Relevant to what?”

“...good point. But something useful, please.”

Picky. Michael scowled, but gave the man another good gander. “He only remembers faint details of his father’s face, and he worries that his recollections aren’t accurate,” Michael proclaimed finally. 

Helen clapped, delighted, as Michael took a careful sip of their water, turning it into fizzy water. She took a sip of her own wine, turning it into champagne. Or maybe just sparkling unreality? “Wonderful. Now, how should we play this? Insert a false father into his life, completely separate from his recollections, or is that a bit too Stranger? I suppose we could do some good old-fashioned gaslighting, but sometimes that’s just a bit too Melanie, if you catch my drift -”

“Are you jealous that the Archive girls are better at gaslighting than you are?” 

“Shut it, kid,” Helen hissed, before taking a long drag of her champagne. “My vote is that we convince him to top off his coke bender with some LSD. Then he hallucinates - oh, he hallucinates that he’s in a mental institution, that’s a good one -”

“Why don’t we shift everything thirty cm to the right?” Michael asked brightly.

Helen squinted at them. They beamed back. 

“You are so bad at this,” Helen said. 

Michael would have felt crushed if Helen didn’t express this sentiment roughly once per lunar cycle, contrariwise. As it was, they bore the criticism with a stiff upper lip. Helen had her way of harvesting fear from unsuspecting humans, and Michael had theirs. “Look, Helen, you’re being uncreative! We don’t have to traumatize people every single time.”

Helen squinted further. “We’re personifications of deceit. We eat trauma.”

“No, we eat confusion,” Michael pointed out patiently. “Look at it this way. If you give someone one really terrible experience, then they repress it for the rest of their lives and consider it a brush with Hell. One and done, see? But if you minorly inconvenience them for a really long time, then they’ll never be able to break out of it. They’ll feel as if something’s wrong, but they’ll never know it. You can keep the game going for years that way!”

The idea was very good. Michael had been working on it for a while. Truth be told, Michael felt bad traumatizing people outright and making them scream and cry and everything. They always felt as if they were doing something wrong by making other people’s existences a living nightmare. Michael much preferred rigging a corn maze so you were stuck in it for days inside the maze but only an hour outside. It was funner, and much more confusing. 

But Helen just pursed her lips and stared Michael up and down, making them squirm awkwardly on their barstool. Finally, as if she was delivering a life sentence, she imperiously said, “Well, we all have our different styles, I suppose! It would be quite boring if we were both exactly the same.” Michael nodded vigorously at this, and Helen held up a scaly claw. “But! You’re my intern, which means that you’re learning from the master here. So shut up and let me teach you how to ruin lives.”

“Yes, boss,” Michael said miserably. 

Helen tsked, but she patted them on the head anyway. It tasted like batteries. “Honestly, kid. A literal bleeding heart’s fun for the whole family, but a metaphorical bleeding heart will get you nowhere in life. You can’t exist as you are and feel bad for them. It ruins the point. It’s a paradox.”

“I thought we liked paradoxes, though?”

Helen shrugged, downing the rest of her wine. “Rules for thee but not for me, honey. But I’m a good boss and drunken aunt figure, so I’ll appease you today. Now come on, let’s convince this bar to vote for Brexit.”

They did. It was quite fun after all, tricking a roomful of people into doing something actively against their own interests. But something about the whole thing left a strange taste in Michael’s mouth: not the good kind of strange, or the bad kind of strange that was also good. Just strange, and undeniable, and something that couldn’t be exploited at all. 

****

Maybe Helen was right. 

Not that Helen was ever strictly right, much as Helen was never wrong, but Michael just had to be doing this whole fear demon thing incorrectly. If someone had explained the whole fear demon thing to them two years ago (“Okay, so it’s like you’re the semi-sentient appendage of an extradimensional force of evil that has to consume trauma relentlessly in order to propagate its own debatable existence, also you’re nonbinary now, no those things are not strictly related, probably”), then they would have called them crazy. Which, of course, they were, but that wasn’t the point. So long as the point existed. So long as anything -

Michael was a bad fear demon of the Spiral and Infinite Twisting and That Is Not What It Is and The Twisted Door, etc, etc, All Fear Its Name, etc etc all Hail, because they didn’t always like how their internal monologue could no longer be described through common language. Words and images and understandings were nothing but approximations for Michael now, and sometimes it was frustrating existing outside the boundaries of understanding. Which, of course, was the point, so long as the point existed, so long as anything existed -

It wasn’t always easy. Still, nobody ever got what they wanted if they weren’t willing to put the effort in. The adult world and labouring under capitalism wasn’t easy for anybody. That was what Mum had always said. Who was Michael to complain about their 9-5? Or 24/24? Or infinite/infinite? Or nothing/nothing? Or -

Was it too much to ask to have a linear thought once in a while? 

Helen wouldn’t understand. There were only two other approximations of concepts that Michael knew, and Helen would hardly be any help. The other “person” would probably be a better sounding board, but there was the fact that he was kind of pretentious. Still, it was better than nothing. Well, it was nothing, but only in the sense that everything was - argh!

A yellow door appeared in a nondescript basement, and Michael appeared with it. They melted out of the “wood”, taking a second to check their outfit for this apparition - a nice vintage 50s dress with a painstaking stitch that reminded one of the oppressive nature of housewifery, nice. They elongated their curly blonde hair from a roguish mop into a nice little shag and melted into the crowd. 

It must have been a passing period, because Michael was buffeted to and fro by tall white men wearing backpacks and shorter white girls hoisting strangely identical water bottles. Somewhere Northern, Michael decided, likely private and small. Not that it strictly mattered, but it helped to solidify their grip in reality a bit if they had some idea. They already knew geography was purposeless and a distraction from the real issues, like shrimp, but occasionally it could be useful. Helen had been careful to impart the central tenet of existence as a non-euclidean concept in undefinable space in the twenty seventh dimension: location, location, location!

It was obviously the Philosophy Department, because all philosophy classes were held in old basements built in the ‘60s in identical hallways. For kicks, Michael turned all of the school hallways inwards and sent them in a mobius strip, and changed all of the door numbers into a headache. The key to enjoying your job was to take initiative in the workplace environment and to just have fun with it!

Michael found themselves in front of a door identical to all of the others, with fake laminated wood, and they decided to go in. The universe had guided them to this door for a reason, and who were they to reject its call? 

The small classroom was like most other small, private colleges in unpopular departments that nobody cared about. Lots of single person desks - Michael snapped their fingers and turned them all into left-handed desks - complete with a smartboard and a teacher’s podium. It was already half-full, so Michael carefully slid into a chair in the back and pretended that they had been there all along. A student wandered close, convinced that this was her seat, but Michael successfully convinced her that a different seat near the front was hers, prompting an impromptu game of musical chairs that sent ripples through the otherwise sedate classroom.

There was a blond student already sitting in the front, flipping through a spiral notebook and clicking a pen in no particular pattern. He was wearing a pea coat, jeans, and his hair was weirdly perfect. Michael wished they had a notebook. Was this what you did in university? They had never had the opportunity to go. 

Actually, they had never quite graduated secondary - three months away from graduation, actually. It probably wasn’t all that important. You didn’t really need a diploma to become a trauma eating fear demon. Was there a university of eating fear? That would be funny. What would the classes be in, ‘Enforcing the Powerlessness of Capitalism 101’? What was the difference between that and a Business major? 

Maybe Business majors were the real fear demons, Michael thought grandly. It was a good thought, they would have to remember to tell it to Melanie later. Melanie would approve. Hadn’t Tim been a business major? Yeah, in that case she would definitely approve. 

The student sitting in the front seemed to have finally noticed the game of musical chairs, and as the professor started clearing their throat and announcing something unimportant to the class, he turned around to find Michael sitting in the back of the class. They waved cheerfully. The student scowled. 

‘What are you doing here!’, the guy mouthed angrily. 

‘Hi Mike!’ Michael mouthed back. 

‘Go away!’ Mike mouthed back. 

‘But I’m going to eat your teacher :(‘ Michael mouthed back. They didn’t actually frown. 

‘ >:(!’, Mike Crew mouthed back, also without changing his facial expression. 

This was probably why Mike wasn’t Michael’s biggest fan. Which was a pity, because Michael thought Mike was really cool. He had the coolest name, for one. But shorter, and snappier. Mike was the kind of name girls would call you at clubs. Michael was what, like, your Mum would say as she yelled at you to clean up your room before her book club girls came over. Why were they girls? They were, like, fifty.

Mike Crew was an Avatar of the Spiral completely unwillingly. Chosen as a child and chased throughout his life by an improbably long lasting Lichtenberg scar, he had eventually succumbed to the inevitable and transformed into an even more improbable man. Personally, Michael found it strange that ‘inevitable’ and ‘Spiral’ was in the same sentence, but - well, it had to be everything at one point. Even a melting clock was right once an endless twilight. 

Strangest of all, Mike Crew was a philosophy major. The class, of course, was a high level philosophy course. Mike Crew had been in uni - well, a while - and he tended not to waste his time with the boring shit anymore. Michael listened with interest as the professor dived into the lecture. 

Two minutes in, Mike subtly gathered his things and slipped into the conveniently empty chair next to Michael. He was still glaring at them, as Michael tried their best to look innocent and cute. The effect was a little ruined by the inherent maliciousness of Michael’s pores, but they liked to think it was the thought that counted. 

“To continue our conversation on the topic of paradoxes,” the professor began, “I’d like to introduce a few thought experiments for your consideration as a class. I’ll mention the concept, and then allow you to break into pairs to discuss them.”

Mike leaned into Michael’s ear. “We were discussing Descartes!”

“But isn’t this more interesting?” Michael asked. 

“If you give my professor a mental breakdown we’re going to fall behind on the syllabus!”

“The first paradox I’d like to bring to your attention is the Crocodile’s Dilemma.” The professor flipped to a new slide, which helpfully had a big crocodile on it. Michael admired it. They had seen a crocodile at the zoo once. “Similar to the liar’s paradox, the premise states that a crocodile, who has stolen a child, promises the parent that his or her child will be returned if and only if he or she correctly predicts what the crocodile will do next. The outcome is fairly obvious if the parent states that the crocodile will return the child, but the crocodile faces a dilemma if the parent states that the crocodile will not return the child. No matter the outcome, the crocodile is made a liar: if  the crocodile decides to not give back the child then the statement proves to be true, and he ought to return the child, thereby making it false. Whatever the outcome, he still violates his terms.”

Michael raised their hand. Mike forcibly lowered their hand. 

“If I give your professor a mental breakdown then you’ll have extra time for the test,” Michael whispered back. Mike seriously considered this notion.

“The next paradox is slightly related,” the professor continued. “The Infinite Hotel Paradox.” Michael’s face stretched into a grin as Mike Crew groaned. “It is demonstrated that a fully occupied hotel with infinitely many rooms may still accommodate additional guests, even infinitely many of them, and this process may be repeated infinitely often. This is what we call a veridical paradox: it leads to a counter-intuitive result that is provably true. Therefore -”

“Okay, yeah,” Mike Crew said, slumping in his seat. “You can eat him, this guy is just begging for it.” 

“Yay!” Michael went in for the hug, before Mike pushed them away. Michael’s quest for a cool big brother failed yet again. “Do you want to call the -”

“They’re your hallways,” Mike said, persnickety as always. Maybe he was just jealous that he wasn’t a hallway? 

Michael raised their hand, patiently waiting for the professor to call on them. He stumbled in the middle of his lecture, adjusting his thick glasses. 

“Uh, yes, Miss -”

“You no longer understand gender,” Michael said pleasantly, as they always did whenever they were misgendered. It was an understandable mistake, so they didn’t do it maliciously. Frankly, they just thought it was healthy. Everyone should not understand false things. “Professor, I have a question about the Crocodile’s Dilemma.” They waited for the professor to nod, somewhat confused. “How do you know that didn’t really happen?”

The professor blinked lethargically at them. “It’s a thought experiment. It’s not real, it’s just an idea proposed by philosophers to represent -”

“What makes you so sure?” Michael asked cheerfully. “Crocodiles eat babies. Or dingoes. I think I read a story about this happening in Australia, didn’t you?”

“I - I suppose I did, yes -”

“We wouldn’t talk about it if it didn’t really happen.” Michael felt their voice fall into a rising lilt, like an attractive song that was played to a concert hall but heard only by you. They were distantly aware of Mike lulling the rest of the students into their own hazy daze: aware enough to be confused, but trapped in their seats and the fog of misunderstandings. “Fiction isn’t real. Reality is real. But a thought experiment is in between, isn’t it? Something that strains the boundaries of reality, that proves the fundamental concepts of life, told through a framework of an intrinsic lie. A paradox is a lie telling the truth. You are a truth speaker telling only lies. What you know isn’t so much as anything at all, is it? What do you really know, anyway?”

“One of us tells only the truth and the other tells only lies,” Mike Crew called out, bored. But his eyes were shining in endless refraction, infinite rooms holding infinite guests. “But is it really a lie if you had mistaken it for the truth? What lies are you living, Dr. Young?”

Dr. Young was stammering, eyes swimming, and Michael didn’t dare to break eye contact. It was a delicate spell they wove, but Michael wasn’t so bad at bringing this simmer to a boil. Cooking was about improvisation, and Michael had always been great at that. 

“If your life is a lie,” Michael breathed, “then are you really alive?”

It was clear, when it happened: the professor started inhaling deep, deeper breaths, chest wracking with heaves. His eyes rolled up in his head, he clutched at his chest, and he finally slumped down on the floor. He twitched, jerking slightly, and he would continue jerking. At which point the students would become aware, and they’d call an ambulance for him, and he would be perfectly alright in the end. If a little mentally scarred. 

“Damn,” Mike Crew said, almost impressed, as both he and Michael stood up. He shoved his pens in a backpack, glad to be free of his examination for another week. “What’d you do to him?”

“Made him think he was dead,” Michael said serenely. “He thought his heart had stopped beating so he had a panic attack. He’s going to have to make an appointment with a psychiatrist but he probably should anyway, work’s very stressful for him.”

“Guess I have the rest of the hour off,” Mike sighed, as he held the door open for Michael so they could slip out of the back of the classroom. It was yellow, and a little strange.  “Want to grab a pint with me at the campus pub?” He paused a beat. “Wait, are you even old enough to drink?”

“I’m as old as eternity and reborn every second.” Michael paused a beat. “But I was eighteen last time I checked, and I’ll probably be eighteen for a while, so yes?”

“Great, let’s roll. I need a drink.”

****

Mike’s uni’s pub (Michael had asked the name of the uni but the information had, unfortunately, been lost in next Tuesday, so they’ll know then) was the exact opposite of the high class pub Helen had taken them to. Instead of glassy, shiny, and chromey, Mike’s pub looked strongly as if very many people had puked in it and the staff had tackled the problem somewhat half-heartedly. Michael enjoyed the sight of the puke existing in all points in time simultaneously, giving it a sort of weird yellow-ish shine. Actually, maybe all puke had that yellowish sheen?

When they asked Mike about it as they hopped up on the bar, he just sighed. He flagged the bartender down for a pint, and when the bartender squinted dubiously at Michael they revelled into the micro-confusion of ambiguous ages. Micro-feeding? Like mini muffins?

“Helen made a mistake hiring you. She’s stuck us with a perpetual teenager.”

“I’m as much a teenager as you are a uni student,” Michael said pointedly. 

“I’m not an embodiment of the It Is What It Isn’t Is,” Mike said, oddly aggressively. “I’m just a normal Avatar.”

“Fear demon.”

“Melanie King isn’t always right and I don’t know why everyone thinks she is.” Big words from an honored Special Guest on her show. There were many in the fear demon community who would kill for the honor. It was a good thing she hated intruders in her Archives - otherwise they’d never leave. “But I’m no different from - that douche Peter Lukas or that stoner Elias Bouchard or that btich Annabelle, okay? I’m just a guy. Who eats trauma. Plenty of guys do that.”

“Very good denial of reality!” Michael approved. “Normally Helen tells me to go further into denying reality as a concept, though.”

“God, you hallway people are impossible to have a normal conversation with.” Mike huffed, clearly not as irritated as his words would imply. Michael also approved of the incongruity. “I’m assuming that you’re here for absolutely no reason and that you have no idea why or how you ended up at my uni.”

Michael shifted uncomfortably. “Actually, I am here for a reason.” At Mike’s extreme surprise, they hurriedly clarified, “Not with any goal, meaning, or intention in mind! But I just wanted to talk about something to someone who wasn’t technically another facet of my meaningless whole. Helen and I are as index and ring fingers on the same hand, but we don’t really get each other sometimes, you know?”

“Does that make you the pinky finger?”

“I actually had a hypothetical for you.” At Mike’s nod, Michael snagged a napkin from the stack on the sticky bar and began creasing it, somewhat anxiously. “Let’s say, hypothetically, you were a teenagerish nongendered sentient hallway intern who happens to eat trauma.”

“This isn’t much of a hypothetical,” Mike said flatly. 

“I’m a hypothetical person. And I’m only a person hypothetically.” Michael started making little folds in the napkin, twisting it up into a strange origami. “So, let’s say, hypothetically, that this person - their name is Michael - enjoyed being them. It wasn’t always fun, and sometimes they kind of missed the world making sense, or at least not making sense in a familiar way. And sometimes Michael got tired of being a sentient hallway and wanted to finish secondary. And maybe even sometimes Michael grows sad that both their parents were eaten by their new boss, who is kind of a Tory! But that’s all fine. Michael’s probably happier like this than they ever were even when they did have parents.”

Mike Crew stared at them a little, slowly sipping his pint. 

Michael hunched their shoulders, and folded up the napkin further and further. They had read somewhere that any piece of paper can only be folded seven times. They folded the napkin seven times, then eight, then nine, then ten. That was something nice about the way things were now, they supposed: no rules, absolute freedom. Only rules, no freedom. That was what Dr. Yung would call a paradox. “But maybe the worst part about this new job is that Michael doesn’t really like hurting people. Sometimes it’s fun to randomly make people very upset, and you always kind of end up doing it anyway, but after a while Michael feels kind of bad about it. Michael likes doing other things better, like making terrible roundabouts and rearranging the pages of books. Maybe they even like reading books. They like reading comic books backwards, from the last page to the first, so every panel is a surprise.”

“There’s lots of ways to be a fear demon,” Mike pointed out, almost gently. Maybe only because he could relate. “Look at me. I’m not feeding off anyone. Just myself.”

“But I like the way I do it,” Michael said, frustrated. “Helen keeps trying to get me to do it the way she does it, but the point is that we aren’t the same. What’s the point in having two of us if both our viewpoints are the same? We’re different in every way, but we’re the same being. I just want to be the Spiral the way I want. Not the way Helen wants.” Their voice lowered, almost unwilling to say what they were about to say. “Not the way the Spiral wants.”

Mike stared at them for a long time, slowly sipping his beer, and Michael focused their efforts on forcing this improbable napkin into something that could be beautiful. A lotus flower? A mobius strip? Or should they just let it happen as it happens, and see what form it decided to take? 

Finally, Mike said, “You are the Spiral.”

“Then why am I always disagreeing with it?” Michael asked miserably. 

“Why are you, Helen, and the Spiral always disagreeing?” Mike pointed out. “Maybe that’s the point. So much as anything’s a point. Isn’t it the most perfect paradox of all, to split yourself into portions that are always disagreeing and bickering? Maybe everything you’re feeling is on purpose. I mean, it’s kind of improbable that you’re feeling at all, right?”

“I retained a lot of humanity,” Michael said. “Maybe a bit too much, actually?”

“Right.” Mike nodded decisively. “Then that’s the appeal. A human mind will always strain against its confines. It will always want different, want the same, want the old and the new and the perpetual and the fleeting and the eternity and the moment. What’s more nonsensical than a human? What’s more contradictory than human nature?” A dark shadow passed over his face, just for a second. “The Spiral kidnaps us and turns us into it. One part of our minds is entrenched in its eternity, and another part is always screaming in agony. But predominantly we are the unholy mixture of human and Entity, oil forced into water. It’s so intrinsically horrifying and wrong that we just get used to it. We are both demon and human, and so we’re neither, and so we’re both. Isn’t it weird, Michael, that unlike so many other Avatars, none of us want to be here?”

“You’re a very philosophical person,” Michael said diplomatically. 

“Thanks, I think too much about my lot in life.” Mike Crew sighed, slumping on his barstool and knocking back more of his pint. “I wish you and Helen would stop showing up in my life so often. When you aren’t around, I can almost pretend I’m a person.”

“That’s why we show up,” Michael felt obligated to point out. 

“Yeah, I know,” Mike said glumly. “I always know. I can’t stop knowing.”

There was nothing Michael could say or do that fixed this, or that could make Mike feel better. They understood, just a little - that nostalgia for a kinder time. But maybe it was more that Mike never had those halcyon, innocent days. He had lived life since childhood in aching knowledge that his days were numbered. Maybe that’s why Mike was allowed to live life as a human even now: his human life was just as confusing and isolated as his afterlife, and that when fear stained every second of his life there was no point in ceasing it. 

Maybe Michael couldn’t keep their human life because they had been happy. At the very least, they had been ignorant. That was one thing the Spiral could not abide: ignorance. 

These days, Michael knew everything. They knew everything so, so much.

So, in lieu of comforting falsehoods, Michael offered Mike Crew a slightest sliver of truth. They passed Mike the little piece of origami that they had made, and let Mike cradle it in his large and smooth hands. 

The origami had no shape. It wasn’t folded into anything. It was just a meaningless amalgamation of points, corners, and creased paper. It didn’t look like anything at all. 

“See?” Michael pointed out. “It’s a bear.”

Mike Crew smiled weakly. “Looks like a sea goat to me.”

There was something beautiful in ambiguity. When something was nothing, it could be everything at once. That was rather Michael’s favorite thing about it. 

“I think it’s a self-portrait,” Michael decided. 

And that, at least, was as true as anything else. 

***

Michael wandered their hallways. 

On some level, they were pretty much perpetually doing that. Even as one facet of them talked with Michael in a campus pub, even as another helped Helen convince a high class pub into voting Brexit, even as they traumatized a physics professor, they wandered these hallways.

Make no mistake: everything in this story has/will/is happened/happening simultaneously.

Of course, on another level Michael was literally their hallways, and thus they were not so much wandering as existing. Pulsating, one could say. Even twisting, if one would be so bold. 

There was a mirror, in the hallway. Not a funhouse mirror - although Michael did enjoy popping out from those and scaring Nikola - but just a mirror. Gilded around the edges, ornate with swirling curlicues. You could see yourself in it. You could see a lot of yourself in it. It wasn’t what you had always looked like, not really, but you just had the sense that this was what you really looked like. Maybe you had always looked like this, and everybody was just too polite to tell you. Were you really a brunette? This mirror had to be right. You had been a blonde all along. Nobody had told you. They were laughing at you. They were laughing -

But this was Michael, and Michael’s, and nothing in here could harm them. It was even comforting. They looked at themselves in the mirror, and saw themselves same as ever. Or not same as ever. They were still Michael, so far as Michael was Michael.

Shortish. Blondey. Raggedy hair. Curled as much as anything’s curled. Fun clothing that they really enjoyed. Tall shoes, because they liked feeling tall. Similar dimensions to the golden number. Non linear, but who’s counting? It was what they typically looked like. 

But, just for a second, Michael even fooled themselves. They saw someone in the mirror that they were not, someone who they had never been, someone who they never will be. Someone different.

Michael, just like everyone else, couldn’t stop themselves from reaching out. Come back. Come back! Let me touch you, let me be you! Michael’s fingers brushed the shiny glass, and the world tilted sideways, and Michael fell into where the sidewalk ended.

They emerged, or maybe they had always been, inside a bedroom. It was a nice little suburban bedroom. It had a peaked ceiling and a window seat. The walls were a soft, navy blue. There was a young person, lying on the shag carpet, leafing through a book. Big headphones were over their ears, and they were bopping along to music. Disco. 

Michael stood, an intruder into a familiar space, and watched the stranger. Their throat felt oddly tight, and their eyes felt strangely hot. The stranger was smiling faintly, flipping the pages of their book somewhat mindlessly. They were reading it for school. Flatland. It was just an assignment, but it was really fucking them up. It was making them think about all of these things that they didn’t normally, in new dimensions. It was really cool. All of their friends were just reading the Sparknotes, but they really wanted to talk about it with someone. 

 This, of course, had happened. It will happen in the future. It was happening now, as Michael watched the scene with an electric sadness. It would never happen, because the Spiral had never been here, and never would be, and always was. 

A knock echoed on the door, several sharp raps. Michael didn’t notice, legs swinging to the music. 

The knock on the door hit louder. “Michael!” A voice echoed from behind it. “Michael, are you ready to go?”

Michael reached up and slid off their headphones, without looking up from their book. “Coming!” They called back. “Be right there!”

The Spiral watched Michael, who hummed absentmindedly as the door knocked again. Dad was downstairs, making sure the gas was off and shutting off the lights. Mum was knocking, knocking, knocking, on a door that was and will always be wood. 

“Have you packed yet?” Mum called. 

“Sure I have!” Michael yelled back, glancing at the empty suitcase on the bed and the messy pile of clothes right next to it. They pushed themselves up, flipping the book shut and rising to their feet. “Be right out!”

“Hurry up,” Mum called, as the Spiral mouthed the words along with her. “We’re going to be late!”

The Bermudas aren’t going anywhere, Michael thought spitefully. They stuffed their clothes haphazardly in a suitcase, took far more care to pack their laptop and DS, and shoved Flatland in a side pocket of their backpack. 

When Michael slung on his backpack, unfolded the handle from their suitcase, they were not even looking at the door they left through. They were entirely focused on managing the unruly suitcase, and walked straight through the crazed yellow door.

Of course, Michael walked out. Slightly stranger, a little better, a lot worse. Exactly the same. They were back in their hallways again, fresh from their little suburban bedroom and the child exiting one world and entering one quite different. Maybe one part of that child would always be in that bedroom, another part in these hallways, and another part always caught in that doorway and the transition. 

Simultaneously, in all points in time, Mum knocked on that wood door, and Michael never let her inside. Simultaneously, at all points in time, Michael watched it all happen.

They hadn’t expected it to be so comforting. At all moments in time, in a little corner of their heart, Mum knocked on their door. If the Spiral lived in your soul and beat your heart, it was easy to find the beauty in it - the magnificence of eternity, and the joy in the moment. Mum was with them - literally, as he was pretty sure Helen was still digesting her. Maybe nothing was ever truly over - just over there.  

Michael stuck their hands in their pockets, whistling a jaunty tune that highly resembled the Shepherd’s Tone. Their hallways pulsated comfortingly, and Michael carefully toed off their platform shoes and eyed down the infinite hallways. No rugs for a while. 

Maybe Michael, Mike Crew, and Helen should get together more often. Just the three of them. They would drive each other batty. It would be a lot of fun. 

Michael set off running down the hallway, and skidded on their socks down the hardwood floor, whooping in joy as they skidded endlessly towards eternity. 

[disneydreamlights]

Across the Stars: Chapter 4

AO3 | FFN

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9]

Summary: Tensions between the Separatists and the Republic are climbing as the Senate debates whether there is need for an army. Anakin Skywalker, Senator of Tatooine, has recently returned to Coruscant to speak against its formation, resulting in an assassination attempt that forces him to reunite with long time friends Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi and the newly knighted Padme Naberrie for his own protection. [Anidala]

(Or, an Attack of the Clones Roleswap AU)

A/N: Aka the Obi-Wan centric chapter where I take Obi-Wan’s clone quest and put it all into one chapter.

With Padmé and Anakin having left Coruscant for Tatooine a few hours prior, it was now time for Obi-Wan to get to work so he could help the Senator return to his job of stopping the war before it got too far out of hand. The temple archives had little information on the poison dart, and so he was forced to find information somewhere else. His first stop was a small diner in the middle of Coruscant, to visit an old friend. He stepped in, and bowed to the droid that was taking the information. "I'm here to see Dex."

"Someone to see ya, honey! Jedi, by the looks of him," The droid called in the back, and before long a besalisk emerged from the kitchen, a huge grin on his face.

"Obi-Wan!"

"Hello, Dex." Obi-Wan smiled. The visit may not have been a social visit, but it had been far too long since they'd last spoken anyways.

"Take a seat. I'll be right with ya." Dex indicated the booth by the door, and Obi-Wan sat down, accepting the droid's offer of jawa juice while he waited for his friend to re-emerge from the back of the diner.

It wasn't long before Dex finished his prep work and sat across from Obi-Wan. "Hey, old buddy! So, my friend, what can I do for ya?"

Obi-Wan pulled out the white dart, placing it in Dex's hand, watching as he looked at it with interest. "You can tell me what this is."

Thankfully, it didn't take long for recognition to form on Dex's face. "Well, whattaya know! I ain't seen one of these since I was prospectin' on Subterrel, beyond the outer rim." Beyond the Outer Rim? Just where had the bounty hunter after Anakin even come from?

"Can you tell me where it came from?" An answer of the system or planet would help greatly narrow down the search, perhaps he could find who was after Senator Skywalker long before the vote he was partaking in was decided.

"This baby belongs to them cloners. What you got here is a Kamino saberdart."

Obi-Wan frowned. Dex knew that so easily… "I wonder why it didn't show up in the analysis archives."

"It's these funny little cuts on the side that give it away. Those analysis droids only focus on symbols. Huh! I should think that you Jedi would have more respect for the difference between knowledge and wisdom." Dex let out a laugh, and for a moment Obi-Wan let himself get caught up in joking with an old friend.

"Well, if droids could think, there'd be none of us here, would there?" He frowned moments later, trying to figure that out. Kamino? Cloners? "Kamino. I'm not familiar with it. Is it in the Republic?"

"No, no. It's beyond the outer rim. I'd say about, uh, twelve parsecs outside the Rishi Maze. Should be easy to find, even for those droids in your archives." That's right, Dex had mentioned that Kamino was outside the Outer Rim earlier, hadn't he? Either way, the knowledge that it was in the Rishi Maze greatly helped him reduce the search radius he'd need to check.

"These Kaminoans keep to themselves."

Dex nodded. "They're cloners. Damn good ones too."

There was the mention of the word again. Was there really an entire group of people who could clone others easily. "Cloners. Are they friendly?"

"Oh, depends." The way Dex said that made Obi-Wan feel ill at ease.

"Depends on what, Dex?" he asked, the way Dex leaned back with a smile made him feel a bit more like it was a joke, at least.

"On how good your manners are, and how big your pocketbook is." Well given how Obi-Wan had no intention of purchasing any clones, that second wasn't a matter of concern, and the first...well, Obi-Wan was rather popular. He was sure he could win the Kaminoans over without issue.

"That was quite informative, Dex." Obi-Wan smiled, thanking his friend. "I believe you've helped me tremendously with my search." Given him a starting point, if nothing else.

Dex simply laughed. "Always a pleasure Obi-Wan. Whatever mystery you Jedi are working on, I hope you manage to solve it soon." So did Obi-Wan, he could only imagine what Anakin was putting his poor Padawan through alone, given the reputation he had.

-x-

Having a place to start was helpful, at least in Obi-Wan's mind, as he searched through the Jedi archives with new energy and attention. Before, he'd relied exclusively on the Droid's intel, but with Dex's direction. It wasn't long before he'd gone over all the information on Kamino that the Jedi had.

Mostly because, he realized with a frown, there was no info to be had. Which was a problem. How did Dex know about this system but not the Jedi? Evidently, he'd been radiating his displeasure enough for it to be sensed in the temple, because moments later the main Jedi archivist, Jocasta, arrived. "Are you having a problem, Master Kenobi?"

Well, if he couldn't find it, then perhaps she would be able to help him locate the hidden planet. "Yes, I'm looking for a planetary system called Kamino."

"Kamino?" The fact that it wasn't even recognizable to Jocasta, that she'd never even heard of it, was concerning. Did that mean that it didn't exist? But that still didn't make sense if Dex recognized it.

"It doesn't show up on the archive charts." Obi-Wan attempted to explain his problem, which in turn caused Jocasta to frown.

"It's not a system I'm familiar with. Are you sure you have the right coordinates?"

"According to my information, it should appear in this quadrant here... just south of the Rishi Maze." She stepped in afterwards, looking at the archives and starting to search for information. Something that never ceased to amaze Obi-Wan was just how well Jocasta knew them. He wouldn't be surprised if she was the only person who knew the entire system and how to work it best.

After a few moments of her search, she ceased, the frown growing deeper as her forehead creased, showing her displeasure. "I hate to say it, but it looks like the system you're searching for doesn't exist."

Didn't exist? But then how could Dex have been there? How could the dart have come from there? How could a bounty hunter be targeting Senator Skywalker from a place that simply didn't exist. It didn't make any sense. "Impossible. Perhaps the archives are incomplete." That had to be the explanation.

"If an item does not appear in our records, it does not exist." Jocasta left the computer to allow Obi-Wan to continue his research. "I apologize, Master Kenobi, there's nothing more I can do to help.

"Thank you for your time then, Master Nu." He bowed his head and stood up, leaving the archives behind. He needed help from somebody older and wiser, perhaps somebody on the council could fit the bill. Mace was currently in the Senate, attempting to help navigate things and stall the vote as a favor to Anakin, and at the current moment hardly anybody else on the council was even on Coruscant, the efforts to delay the war and find peace having spread the Order out to barebones.

That left him with one option. He hoped Yoda wouldn't mind the interruption as he approached the creche, looking at the younglings as they learned the same lessons he had once been taught. There were several, most of them growing near the age where they could be considered to start becoming Padawans. He smiled, perhaps one of the faces here could end up under his tutelage, or the tutelage of Padmé should she so choose.

"Younglings! A visitor we have." It appeared he was unable to hide his presence for long, as the moment he entered the room, Yoda ceased his teaching and brought the attention of each of the kids to his presence. They greeted him in echo, each looking at him with wide eyes. The tales of him managing to kill a Sith had brought attention to him by these kids who thought of Sith as nothing more than nightmares and monsters in bedtime stories.

He waved to the younglings. "Hello. I'm sorry to disturb you, Master."

"What help can I be, Obi-Wan? Hmm?" Thankfully, the old master seemed unfazed, merely greeting Obi-Wan with a twinkle in his eye and a smile, which helped to alleviate some of the guilt he felt at interrupting the lesson.

"I'm looking for a planet described to me by an old friend." Obi-Wan explained, catching the look Yoda gave him as he attempted to continue his explanation. "I trust him, but the systems don't show on the archive maps."

"Lost a planet Master Obi-Wan has. How embarrassing." Yoda laughed, and so did many of the younglings watching him. Perhaps had Obi-Wan been less affected by the situation, he might have found it funny as well, if he was honest. Still, moments later, the laughter died down, and Yoda turned serious again. "Liam, the shades. Gather round the map reader. Clear your minds and find Obi-Wan's wayward planet we will." The room turned dark as one of the human Younglings, Obi-Wan assumed Liam, closed the window, reducing the light in the area.

Sensing that was his cue, Obi-Wan pulled out a holoprojector of the space around the area, what little information he had managed to find based on what Dex had said. "It ought to be here, but it isn't." He indicated a dark spot with nothing there. "Gravity is pulling all the stars in the area towards this spot."

Yoda looked over the map as though he was solving the puzzle as he looked at it. "Gravity's silhouette remains, but the star and all the planets, disappeared they have." He turned to the younglings, waiting for an answer. "How can this be? Hmm? A thought? Anyone?"

One of the initiates, a girl with dark hair and eyes raised her hand. "Because someone erased it from the archive memory." The answer was the most simple and obvious of the explanations, and yet...

"Truly wonderful the mind of a child is." Yoda smiled, proud of the girl. "The youngling is right. Go to the center of gravity's pull... and find your planet you will." Moments later, he stopped, as though realizing exactly what he had said. "The data must have been erased."

"But, Master Yoda, who could empty information from the archives? That's impossible, isn't it?" It didn't make sense. None of them would have had motive to remove Kamino from the archives entirely, it seemed that none of them had even heard of the system before. If that was the case, then why had it been removed?

Yoda remained silent for a moment before finally responding, "Dangerous and disturbing this puzzle is. Only a Jedi could have erased those files." Yoda had come up to the same conclusion he had, that the removal of the files was an inside job. "But who and why, harder to answer. Meditate on this I will."

"Thank you, Master Yoda." Obi-Wan bowed to the Grandmaster, grateful for his help, and turned to leave.

"Wait! Master Kenobi!" Before he could step out, another young girl, a Togruta, smiled at him. "Why do you need to find this planet anyways? I know if it was deleted it had to be important at some point, but that doesn't explain why you're looking for it now."

Obi-Wan hesitated. "What is your name?"

"Ahsoka Tano," she answered with no hesitation.

"Well, Ahsoka, I'll tell you what. Once I return from my mission, come look for me. I'll be happy to answer that question when somebody's life is no longer in jeopardy should people find out I'm searching."

Ahsoka's eyes shined. "I'll hold you to it."

-x-

It had taken a few days to make it outside of the Outer Rim to the dead space where Kamino lay. Obi-Wan had expected it to be empty. If he was honest, a part of him couldn't wrap his head around the fact that a Jedi had willingly erased an entire system from the archives, yet the evidence was right in front of him as he came across a storm covered planet. It was raining, but R4 was a good copilot and a reliable astromech, he could rely on the droid to get him down with ease, and it wasn't long before he was stepping out of his ship and onto the only building in what had appeared otherwise as a giant ocean.

He entered, expecting a cold welcome from what appeared to be a strange species of sentients. They were tall, taller than most other sentient species he had met though most of their height came from their necks, and a sickly shade of white, the same colors as the walls and floors they favored. They were harsh looking creatures, and a part of Obi-Wan couldn't help but worry for his safety as was noticed by one. "Master Jedi. The prime minister is expecting you."

What? "I'm expected?" That had been about as far from what Obi-Wan had been planning for when he set foot on the strange planet as this could get. His hand went to his lightsaber, just in case he needed to make a quick escape.

"Of course. He is anxious to meet you." The Kaminoan smiled at Obi-Wan, an expression that left him uncomfortable, as though it was an appearance for his sake over genuine happiness at the Jedi's arrival. "After all these years we were beginning to think you weren't coming. Now, please, this way." She led the way deeper into the facility, and Obi-Wan tried to take in as much as he could, keeping his eye out for the potential assassins or bounty hunters. "May I present Lama Su, prime minister of Kamino. And this is MasterJedi…" She indicated Obi-Wan, who bowed out of respect.

"Obi-Wan Kenobi."

Lama Su nodded, showing acknowledgement of the introduction. "I trust you're going to enjoy your stay." He continued immediately, not giving Obi-Wan a chance to respond. "And now to business. You will be delighted to hear that we are on schedule. Two hundred thousand units are ready with a million more well on the way."

It took all of his energy to keep the surprise out of his voice. "That's good news." Two hundred thousand units of what? He remembered what Dex had told him of the Kaminoans. They couldn't mean…

"Please tell your Master Sifo-Dyas that his order will be met on time." Lama Su's voice pulled him out from his thoughts, reminding him he couldn't linger on what exactly this meant right now if he wanted to know more.

Speaking of, that was another surprise to hear. "I'm sorry. Master–"

"Jedi Master Sifo-Dyas is still a leading member of the Jedi Council, is he not?" If they were waiting on Sifo-Dyas, that explained a fair amount of just what was going on, and why they had waited so long.

"Master Sifo-Dyas was killed almost ten years ago."

Lama Su frowned, though he didn't seem all that bothered. "Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that. But I'm sure he would have been proud of the army we've built for him."

"The army?" For the third time today, Obi-Wan was thrown off balance by information from the Kaminoans, and he'd only been there ten minutes.

"Yes. A clone army, and I must say, one of the finest we've ever created." There was pride in his voice. Pride at the clones, and at the army he had made, yet Obi-Wan was bothered. An army of people specifically crafted for war showing up now of all times. It seemed almost...too perfect. He thought back to Senator Skywalker's concerns about the bill that would be coming up soon. Could it all be connected?

"Tell me, Prime Minister, when my master first contacted you about the army, did he say who it was for?" There was only one way for Obi-Wan to confirm his theory, at least.

"Of course he did. This army is for the Republic." Obi-Wan felt his blood run cold at the answer. "But you must be anxious to inspect the units for yourself."

He put on a fake smile. "That's why I'm here."

"Then in that case, let us begin the tour." Lama Su placed his hands on a scanner, and within moments they were allowed inside the clone facility. It was, in its own way, a feat of ingenuity, and an impressive sight to see. On either side of them as they walked, hundreds of individual clones, most with a Mandalorian esque white armor on though some with their helmets off, wandered the floors of the facility. Some were practicing using blasters, others were simply conversing, and others studying in a classroom. It was...a lot to take in, to say the least.

The Kaminoan, who had left him with Lama Su, had briefly left, but returned moments later with one of the many clones, though this one slightly different due to his blond hair. "Sir."

"Jedi Master Kenobi, might I introduce you to CT-7567." She indicated the clone, who was standing rigidly at attention waiting for orders. It was...uncomfortable.

"At ease." Obi-Wan watched as the clone relaxed moments later, and stuck out his hand, which the clone looked at warily. "Don't worry, my friend, I have no intentions of harming you with it, just introductions."

"Of course." The clone grabbed his hand to shake it, but was still clearly ill at ease in all of this. "As you've already been told I'm CT-7567. I was a part of the first batch, sir."

Obi-Wan frowned slightly. "Yes, so I can assume. Tell me, do you have a name besides these designation numbers?"

"Rex, sir." If he was going to end up working with these clones at some point, Obi-Wan was definitely going to make sure that the numbers first introduction was long gone. That was one thing he'd work on.

"Very well, Rex." He smiled, and Rex further relaxed, as though sensing that Obi-Wan meant him no harm. Deciding he could use this as a moment to ask questions without seeming clueless as to what was happening, Obi-Wan decided to take advantage of it. "Rex, can you tell me why you and the other clones were created?"

"My brothers and I were created to serve the Republic if there was ever a need." They were on the Republic's side, though the answer told Obi-Wan little. "I'm assuming there's a need for us now?" He almost seemed...eager, as though he was dying to get out and see the world outside the cloning facilities. His desire to explore almost reminded Obi-Wan of a young initiate who had stolen away on the ship of another Jedi to prove that she could handle the outside world. If this army was ever needed, he'd have to do his best to ensure that Padmé was the one who got a chance to work with Rex. The two would work well together.

"Not quite, a war hasn't broken out–" yet "-but there may be one on the horizon. Perhaps you and your brothers will be out in the real world sooner than you think." He purposefully used the term brothers. The clone's terms for how they define themselves were more important than anything else.

"Understood." Rex nodded, before the Kaminoan left to return him to the rest of the clones, leaving Obi-Wan once more alone with Lama Su.

"Very impressive."

"I'd hoped you would be pleased." Lama Su certainly seemed happy with the fact that Obi-Wan was impressed, at least. "Clones can think creatively. You will find that they are immensely superior to droids. We take great pride in our combat education and training programs. It's important to prepare them as quickly as possible, so they'll be prepared for any situation they might encounter."

Obi-Wan frowned at the sound of that. Something about the way Lama Su mentioned speed. "You mentioned that they need to be prepared as quickly as possible. Is there a reason for that?"

"Of course. The clones are genetically modified to age at an accelerated rate for quick production and results. If they weren't, a mature clone would take a lifetime to grow. Now we can do it in half the time."

He could understand why, disturbing implications into what that meant for the clones aside. "I see."

"They are totally obedient, taking any order without question." Lama Su continued on as though nothing out of the ordinary had been said, Obi-Wan felt his skin crawl. That wasn't like an army. That was like a slave. "We modified their genetic structure to make them less independent than the original host."

Had he not been looking for somebody clearly not Kaminoan, he might have focused on that detail in particular, but right now, his mission for Anakin took precedence. He could worry about the clones later. "And who was the original host?"

"A bounty hunter called Jango Fett."

"And where is this bounty hunter now?" This might be the lead Obi-Wan was looking for, and if not, it might have enough info to allow for him to ascertain whether or not at least there was something more disturbing at the center of this mystery.

"Oh, we keep him here." That made his life significantly easier. "Apart from his pay, which is considerable, Fett demanded only one thing: an unaltered clone for himself. Curious, isn't it?"

"Unaltered?"

Lama Su nodded, confirming that Obi-Wan had heard correct. "Pure genetic replication. No tampering with the structure to make it more docile and no growth acceleration." So the clone with him wouldn't be an older man, but a younger boy.

"I should very much like to meet this Jango Fett." He supposed it didn't matter.

"I will talk to Tuan We about introducing you when she returns." Lama Su turned back to the facility, looking over the clones. "For now, I will continue our tour."

-x-

Not longer after, the Kaminoan, Tuan We, returned from taking Rex back to his fellow and Obi-Wan was following her through pristine white halls. Despite that no clones would be here aside from the single, unaltered one that Tuan We mentioned, the facility had not felt anymore welcome in what were clearly its living areas. She stopped at a door and knocked, and a young boy opened the door. "Boba, is your father here?"

"Yep." Boba gave a short answer, and a glare at Obi-Wan.

"May we see him?"

"Sure." After a moment more of uncomfortable staring, Boba stepped out of the way of the door to let Obi-Wan in. "Dad, Taun We's here."

Tuan We entered and smiled at the bounty hunter, although Obi-Wan doubted she cared one way or the other about how he was doing. "Jango, welcome back. Was your trip productive?"

"Fairly." A Mandalorian man stood off to the side of the room, clearly the bounty hunter template for the clones. Obi-Wan however frowned. If Jango had recently left the world, then it was possible that…

"This is Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. He's come to check on our progress." Tuan We's introduction forced Obi-Wan to move on from his train of thought for now, and he put on an attempt at a pleasant grin, likely only succeeding due to his ability to keep a facade in the most trying of circumstances.

"Your clones are very impressive. You must be very proud."

"I'm just a simple man trying to make my way in the universe." Jango's answer was evasive, a bad sign if Obi-Wan had ever seen one.

He decided to press him for more answers. "Ever made your way as far into the interior as Coruscant?"

"Once or twice."

"Recently?"

"Possibly."

"Then you must know Master Sifo-Dyas." Obi-Wan watched as Jango stiffened slightly, it was for but a moment, and something somebody who wasn't trained as a Jedi would be unlikely to catch, but the change in body language was all Obi-Wan needed to know that Jango was hiding something.

Jango said something to Boba in another language, possibly two seeing as he recognized some of it as Mando'a from his time guarding the Duchess from harm. "Master who?" he asked.

"Sifo-Dyas. Is he not the Jedi who hired you for this job?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Never heard of him," Jango said.

"Really?"

"I was recruited by a man called Tyranus on one of the moons of Bogden." The answer to Obi-Wan's question could not have possibly been worse, if he was honest. There were no Jedi he'd even heard of named Tyranus.

"Curious." And leading to so many more questions. If Sifo-Dyas commissioned the army, then why hadn't he found Jango for this.

"Do you like your army?" Jango took back control of the conversation, making it relatively clear that this line of questioning was over, or at least it was for now.

"I look forward to seeing them in action." Obi-Wan bowed, making it clear that he was ending the conversation as well. Besides, he'd gotten the information he'd needed, or at least a new lead to explore. "They'll do their job well. I'll guarantee that. Thank you for your time, Jango."

"Always a pleasure to meet a Jedi." From Jango's remarks, it was clear to Obi-Wan that he was being dismissed. So he left. Besides, he was sure he'd need to contact the council on these matters. It was urgent that they be kept in the loop of what was going on.

-x-

As soon as he left the facility and the Kaminoans behind, Obi-Wan pulled up his comm unit, and within moments, a holographic version of Yoda and Master Windu appeared in front of him. "I have successfully made contact with the prime minister of Kamino." He reported, not wanting to waste any time. "They are using a bounty hunter named Jango Fett to create a clone army. I have a strong feeling that this bounty hunter is the assassin we are looking for."

Mace frowned, and Obi-Wan couldn't blame him. The whole situation reeked of suspicious circumstances. "Do you think these cloners are involved in the plot to assassinate Senator Skywalker?"

Obi-Wan shook his head. As far as he could tell, the clones were unrelated. Or he wanted to believe they were, at least. Rex had left a good impression on him, after all. "No, Master. There appears to be no connection between them."

"Do not assume anything, Obi-Wan. Clear your mind must be if you are to discover the real villains behind this plot." Yoda was right, even if Rex and as a result, his brothers, seemed like they were good. He had to try to look at this objectively. Anything involved with Kamino was suspicious.

"Yes, Master." For now though, Obi-Wan decided not to linger. "They say Master Sifo-Dyas placed an order for a clone army at the request of the senate almost ten years ago. I was under the impression he was killed before that. Did the council ever authorize the creation of a clone army?"

There was a look of surprise on both Mace's and Yoda's faces, as though they had not expected this. Their reaction was enough that no answer would be necessary, but Mace still gave him one anyways. "No. Whoever placed that order did not have the authorization of the Jedi Council."

"Bring him here. Question him we will." It made the most sense. Jango was the most suspicious figure here. Perhaps he could shed some light on the mysterious events.

"Yes, Master. I will report back when I have him." Obi-Wan hung up for now, and looked to the corner of the building to see Jango preparing to escape.

That was going to make his job a lot harder.

-x-

Obi-Wan had planted a tracker on the Fetts' ship, and fortunately for him, it seemed to have paid off as he piloted himself down towards the desert planet of Geonosis. He landed the ship down on a plateau, and entered one of the caves. He needed to avoid being seen if he wanted to gather as much information as he could. He extended his senses using the Force, careful of any other beings he ran into as he went deeper in.

Slowly, his footsteps started getting louder, despite attempts to silence them, and he looked down to see that the floor had become metal. Geonosis wasn't known for an industrial sector, and he felt ill at ease. As he continued down the hallway, everything felt more and more wrong, the stalactites replaced by metal columns, and the cave walls smoothed down. At the sight of a window, Obi-Wan looked down to see thousands of droids being manufactured. Battle droids, similar to those they had faced on Naboo a little over ten years ago.

He continued down the hallway, only to freeze as he heard voices.

"We must persuade the Commerce Guild and Corporate Alliance to sign the treaty."

"What about the senator from Tatooine." Obi-Wan froze at that statement. These people...they were the ones who hired the assassins to go after Anakin. "Is he dead yet? I'm not signing your treaty until I have his head on my desk. Every policy he pitches for the 'good' of his people is making it harder and harder for us to make a profit."

He thought back to the bills Anakin had been working on recently. He hadn't been following the young Senator closely (that had been Padmé who'd kept tabs on what he was doing in the political sphere) but it was clear that within the year he had been working in the Senate, he'd managed to find quite a few enemies.

"I am a man of my word, viceroy." Obi-Wan frowned. Viceroy. There were dozens of viceroys in the galaxy, but only one who was invested in profit to the point that what Anakin was doing was likely a detriment. He heard more voices further down, likely the Commerce Guild and Corporate Alliance signing an agreement to join this cause, but Obi-Wan didn't have time to listen in.

The Viceroy of the Trade Federation, Nute Gunray, was the one behind the assassination attempts.

He had to tell the council.

[Next Part]

[thefigmented]

Not that I'm against the Crispy Master being Delgado, but hypothetically, I'd still like to reserve the possibility of an independent Beevers Doctor — I mean what would *that* look like? Do you think there would be a way in your Roleswap Timeline for this to work out? Unrelatedly, the Master burned through regenerations so fast for the sake of disguises — but why was the Delgado!Doctor already on his last life? Was the Doctor just really clumsy in lives 1-11?

Gonna be honest, I’ve got no idea what Beevers Doctor would look like! Theoretically if he did exist, he’d just slot in right between Delgado!Doctor and “Crispy”, and the situations would be adjusted accordingly.

As for the Doctor being on their last life, my general thought was that it’s a combination of both recklessness and the Doctor being farther along in their life age-wise than three was in canon. Timelines are weird! 

also I did the last life bit partially for the angst potential tbh kdhfksj

[freevoidman]

Thoughts on a AU that has Kairi in Sora’s role?

I’m somewhat hesitant when it comes to roleswap AUs in all fandoms, especially in KH where the lore is almost always changing and shifting one thing to the right often causes the entire thing to tailspin lmao. Kairi taking Sora’s place could lead to a lot of complications that would affect... basically every game, outside of KHUx and maybe BBS.

(However, I support any and all AUs of this, so don’t take this as me bashing anyone’s pre-existing work! Y’all do you, it’s just not something I’m all that enthused to read!)

If we go into my personal take, I think it was just as likely that Kairi could’ve ended up in Sora’s spot when everything went to hell. Of course, this is also depended on how much of Sora’s role Kairi takes up and vice-versa. Did Ven go to Kairi, or is he still with Sora? Is Kairi still a princess of heart, or is that now Sora? If not, how does this influence Maleficent plans and her manipulation of Riku?

That’s also something that would change a lot. Riku and Kairi’s dynamic is way, way different from Sora and Riku’s dynamic. I’d argue that Riku would heavily insist on travelling with her when they meet up in Traverse Town. With Sora, he felt alienated and jealous, as the basis of their relationship at that point was a friendly rivalry where Riku was always superior (and clearly got joy out of being superior and teasing him), where as with Kairi, he’s focused on protecting her to the point where he’s convinced he has to still be her knight in shining armor that will save her.

All in all, I think it could be a complex and really awesome AU (verging on the edge of original fiction) when executed well! Of course, the problem with a roleswap AU is that I’d want to see it executed in a way only I would enjoy, as everyone’s interpretations of the characters are different, hence why I don’t enjoy reading other people’s takes (and again, this extends to other fandoms outside of KH, I’m not bashing anyone).