#me: hmm what if I treated this like any other Dragon Age game and gave her a cast of companions to travel with her on this quest?

[veshialles]

planning out Kieshara's "party composition" for this fic and cannot for the life of me decide who the 3rd rogue should be

[ayma-nidiot]

In the White Light - Prideshipping fic Chapter 10

Also on AO3.

Chapter 10 – Memories That Made Those Days Sublime

~Four years later~

“Ireruruy, iraruy… I… I…” The crown prince strained to read the long, decorated papyrus scroll in front of him.

Seto sighed. “It says ‘Ireruruy, iraruy, irakah urugem iomo atakatu.’”

“Wow, you’re great at reading super-tedious text!” Atem rolled up the scroll and shoved it at Seto. “Here, why don’t you do the studying for me, since I can hardly read a single word?”

“Atem, you know that’s not how the Pharaoh’s Incantation works.” Seto gave the scroll back much more gently and whined again. “Why don’t you take a break?”

“But you know how Father is!” Atem put his fists on his hips. “‘Son, I’m not getting any younger and you have to be prepared to take the throne any day now!’ Humph. I wish my old man would have more confidence in himself. Plus, I’ve got you to help!”

“I’m bored now.” Seto got up and adjusted his headdress. “I know it’s been a while, but how about we duel for old-time’s sake?”

“And also annoy Father for old-time’s sake?” Atem eagerly stowed his study materials. “I’m game! To the throne room!”

“Hahaha, I miss the good old days when we can duel whenever we wanted!” Seto took his place behind the stone tablets and raised the Millennium Rod in the air. “Now that we’re in an alternate dimension, nobody will stop us – namely, me from defeating you!”

“Before we start, Seto, I have a small request.”

Seto got off his power rush to say, “Yeah, what?”

“How about we make a bet? The loser has to reveal his deepest secret to the winner.”

“I-Is that all? Very well, I accept your bet! And I’ll do the honours of starting this game! I use Horn of the Unicorn to power up my Assault Wyvern!”

“Starting off with a powerful combo right off the bat, huh? Very well. I counter with Dark Magician!”

“Our monsters now have the same attack power. What are you trying to pull?”

“I play a Yami field spell! Since my Dark Magician is a spellcaster, he gets a power-up that’s more than a match for your Assault Wyvern! Now, Dark Magic Attack!”

“Well, well, well.” Seto didn’t seem to care about this small setback. “You must have a really good secret if you’re playing even tougher than usual!”

“Sh-Shut up and make your move!”

“Did you forget already that my ultimate beast is way stronger than yours?” Seto sneered as his Blue-Eyes White Dragon made an appearance. “Not only that, but I can use my Horn of the Unicorn as often as I want! Use your White Lightning, my dragon!”

“Oh… oh no…” Atem trembled slightly as he tried to think of his next move. Am I going to have to tell Seto about my impure thoughts? Not fully confident his next move would work, he declared, “I play the spell Monster Reborn to-”

“Ateeeeeem!” an angry voice suddenly interrupted. “Where in the name of Ra are you?”

“If there’s someone here in the middle of our Shadow Game, then it has to be someone with a Millennium Item!” Atem turned around, faced now with the stern stare of his father. “Oh, uh… Hello, Father.”

“Don’t ‘hello, Father’ me!” Aknamkanon admonished as the throne room turned back to normal. “How dare you take the Shadow Games lightly? Or did you neglect the fact that we of the royal family use them to decide the fates of prisoners and the like? Or the fact that it isn’t hard to die in the middle of one?”

“Um…” The crown prince fidgeted.

“If you couldn’t remember something so simple, then you need to study more. Now back to your room!” Aknamkanon snapped his fingers.

“Yes, sir…” Atem sauntered back to his room, where he found his things neatly stacked and his best friend sitting on his bed. “Mahad! What are you doing here?”

“Hey, how have you been faring?” Mahad got up to greet his prince. Unlike most of his retainers, Mahad had the courage to address him informally. “Hmm… Judging from your face, I imagine not well.”

“It’s Father. He’s making me study the ways of our government, mathematics, languages, history… and whatever else almost nonstop.” Atem exhaled. “He forgets that I am still a teenager and even I have a need for fun.”

“And a good meal!” Mahad turned around to present the crown prince with a golden platter full of food.

“Oh gods, Mahad, you made all this for me?” Atem started digging in excitedly. “It’s amazing! Thank you so much!”

“Anything for my hardworking best friend!”

Between mouthfuls of food, Atem managed, “Nothing like a good meal after what I’ve been through during that duel!”

“Atem, were you playing a Shadow Game again?”

Atem paused from eating. “Don’t tell me that you’re upset too?”

“Oh no, I love partaking in the Shadow Games almost as much as you and Seto do. In fact, I’ve started to experiment with my spells. I’m particularly interested in fusing the ka of some of my monsters with the ka of others.”

“I’ve never thought about that! Hehe, maybe I can use it against Seto the next time we duel.” Atem finished the rest of the meal and placed the empty dishes on the nearest table.

Mahad gave his prince a sneaky smile. “You know, Atem, it seems that you use Seto’s name in every other sentence.”

“I-I do?” Atem tried in vain to hide his blush from his best friend. “Oh yeah, that reminds me of our duel just now. So I placed this bet that whoever lost had to tell the winner a secret. I was really afraid I’d have to tell Seto mine.”

“Oh? Is it a secret you feel comfortable sharing with me?”

“Okay, but please don’t tell anyone!” Atem received a nod from Mahad and then continued. “Ever since our first meeting, I’ve been thinking about what an interesting person Seto is. He’s showed me the ways of our common people, from their jokes to how they suffer. He’s giving me such a drive to improve like I’ve never had…” Atem looked back to Mahad with hopeful eyes. “Mahad, I’m scared of these thoughts. What do they mean?”

“They mean that as the crown prince to the greatest kingdom in our history, you would do well not to fall in love with Seto.”

“Wh-What? Love?!” The crown prince shot up, spilling the small remainder of water he had in his goblet. “You mean… like how my father fell in love with my mother?”

“Yes. I’ve heard stories of what previous pharaohs have done to their sons who slept with other men. Let me tell you, it’s not something you want happening to you.”

“But… But…” Atem stuttered. “I can’t help it! I’ve never felt this way about anyone before… Not even when Father has introduced me to several noblewomen and princesses from other realms. I’m… confused, lost even.”

“If that’s how you really feel, then personally I support you.” Mahad placed a supportive hand on the crown prince’s shoulder. “Just don’t tell your father, and most of all don’t tell Seto unless you’re absolutely sure you’re ready. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

When Mahad had left him alone with his thoughts, Atem spoke aloud. “Don’t… tell Seto? I think… that maybe that’s for the best. There’s no way that he’d take it well.”

A few hours later, just as Atem had the notion to sleep, another one his friends entered the room in a panic – his retainer Isis. “Your Highness! Your Highness, flee from this place at once!”

“Eh? Why, did something happen?”

“There are monsters in the palace! Zombies, dragons – anything you can think of!”

“If that’s the case, then my father will take care of those miscreants abusing the Shadow Games.” The crown prince settled back into his bed.

“But His Majesty has gone missing!”

“What?” Atem sprung awake again, with the Pharaoh’s Incantation scroll in his hand. “Then we’ve got to look for him!”

“The pharaoh and his priests can fend for themselves! It’s us retainers that need your help!”

“My retainers… Oh, no, Seto!” Atem took off running as Isis struggled to keep up. I don’t care what happens to me… Seto… Oh gods, please be okay!

Atem ran right past the throne room, from where Isis yelled, “Your Highness! Over here!”

“Everyone!” Atem freaked out when he saw that at least a couple of his retainers were dead and a few were taking the injured to safety. Those who stayed behind attempted to fight off a giant, armour-clad lion. “But… what can I do?��

“Your Highness, you have to use the Shadow Games monsters!” Mahad dodged the lion’s attacks and launched a dark ball of energy at it. “It’s the only way!”

“And I know just the monster!”

“Ever the clever one, Your Highness! Best of luck!” One of the Atem’s retainers, Shada, took a severely injured retainer named Karim to one of the palace’s medical wards.

“Okay, let’s see if I can find the stone tablet that houses my Dark Magician…” Atem ran to the stone tablets. “Ah! I’ve found you! Now, I’ll use the Yami spell again to-”

“Your Highness!” a raspy voice called out. “Behind you!”

“Is that…” Atem had just summoned his Dark Magician, but not enough to save Seto, who took a large claw scratch for the crown prince. “Seto! Seto, you damned idiot! You should have just saved yourself!”

“I am your retainer, am I not?”

“I know, but… But… Someone, anyone!” In a final act of desperation, Atem shouted for help and thankfully got it when he heard an old man’s singing voice in the distance. “Father!”

“Aw usa ukari ag et onos!” Aknamkanon didn’t even need to sing the full incantation before the lion and all the surrounding enemies were no more. “Ugh…”

“Father!” Atem caught the pharaoh before he could pass out. “What’s wrong? Did that lion hurt you?”

“No, it’s the Incantation. Son, I forgot to tell you one thing – the Pharaoh’s Incantation uses some of your ba. But it’s a risk that you must be willing to take if you want to protect your people.”

“Are you going to be okay?” Atem led his father back to his bed while Seto followed.

“Yeah, with a little rest.” Aknamkanon peered up. “In the meantime, take Seto to a medical ward. That attack killed several palace guards and I don’t want to risk another one.”

“Your Majesty, with all due respect, I didn’t suffer much of a wound. As such, I can go myself.”

“But can you treat your own back?”

“Good point.” Seto left the throne room and beckoned for Atem to follow.

“That was an incredibly reckless thing to do, Seto. You could have used your Blue-Eyes White Dragon, but noooo! You just had to literally break your back for me!” Atem snarled while he fetched some alcohol and linens. When he turned around, he halted at the sight of a virtually nude Seto. Only his priest robes, balled up at his groin, covered his copper skin while he sat on the bed.

“Well? I’m waiting.” Seto’s voice was nonchalant. “I feel like I’m dying over here.”

“That’s not something you should be joking about!” Atem rushed over to Seto’s side to take a look. The claw wound on the priest’s back turned out to be hardly more than a scratch. “You ass! How could you be dying from such a small wound?”

“I figured it was the only way to get you over here, since you looked spaced out.” Seto didn’t even flinch when the alcohol entered his wound. “You got something on your mind?”

At this point, Atem didn’t really care if Seto found out about his feelings. “You… You could have died! Do you know how damned lucky you are to have survived that attack?”

“Your Highness…” Seto tried to touch Atem’s cheek, but the crown prince slapped his hand away.

“Why did you have to do that?” Atem didn’t bother to stop the tears from coming out. “If I had lost you, I…”

“You want to know that badly? Fine, then I’ll tell you.” Seto took a few breaths. “I’ve tried to deny it… I know you’ll hate me for this because of our royal positions. But Your Highness… Atem… I love you.”

Atem stopped crying. “What… did you say?”

“I’m not just talking about the familial, friendly kind of love, either.” Seto caressed Atem’s cheeks and lips. “I’m talking about this kind of love.”

“I’m so glad…” Atem’s expression softened as he returned this gesture. “I thought my feelings were unclean, but… But…”

“But…?”

Atem hid his face in Seto’s chest. “I’m in love with you too, Seto! I’m so happy that I don’t have to refuse these feelings anymore.”

“Atem…” Seto turned his caress into a deep kiss. “Oh, gods, Atem.”

“Seto…” The closer Seto held him, the more Atem could feel the other man’s erection. “Do you… want me?”

“If you’ll have me,” Seto answered as Atem stretched out on the bed, wiping away a bead of sweat.

Seto tossed his robes aside and kissed Atem’s neck – and for a few seconds, he disregarded all noise, including the sudden shout of, “Seto! Your Highness! Are you two… all… right…?”

“Ah!” Seto stopped his advances when the intruder appeared at the door. He frenetically tried to get dressed, knowing that it was futile to hide was he was doing just now. “Father! What are you doing here?”

“Hmph. So you decide to take advantage of a young war breaking out to seduce the crown prince?” Aknadin’s eyes hardened on his son. “You are a disgrace to the royal family and to the High Priests!”

“Father, please!” Seto tried to stop his father from leaving. “Don’t leave!”

“I’ve always hated that… that crown prince and that accursed Aknamkanon… Now I have all the more reason to leave the palace and find a newer dark power, so that I may become pharaoh!”

“Please!” Seto cried as his father disappeared. “Don’t join the enemy! Father!”

“Seto…” Atem crouched down at his boyfriend’s side. “I’m sorry, it’s all my fault.”

“No, it isn’t.” Seto held Atem’s hand firmly. “Nothing – nothing – will make me regret falling in love with you. This new enemy, though… If we have to fight them with my father on their side, then…”

“Then we’ll fight them together.”

While the two young lovers consoled each other, they were interrupted yet again – this time by Aknamkanon. “Atem! My son, what happened?”

“Father…” Atem arose, fully prepared to explain himself. “I’m afraid it’s something horrid. Aknadin, he’s… he’s deserted us and left to join the enemy, cursing your name while he did so.”

“What? But why?”

“It’s because he wanted the throne for himself all along. And… What finally drove him over the edge was when he discovered Seto and I getting intimate with one another.”

“Atem, why did you tell him that?” Seto clenched his teeth.

“That’s despicable,” Aknamkanon answered. “So he cursed his son just because said son can’t fulfill his ambitions now? That’s not a true father, but a snake.”

“But what about your future heirs?” Atem asked. “I’m sure you’ve noticed a long time ago that there’s a reason why I’ve refused every woman you’ve tried to marry me to.”

“Eh, I’ve got plenty of siblings, nieces, and nephews that can produce heirs. And even if they couldn’t, it’s not going to stop me from caring about you, my son.”

“Father…” Atem began to cry tears of joy. “Do you mean that?”

“Yes. The reason why I’m so strict with you is because I want the people to respect you for your leadership abilities, and not whom you choose as a partner.” Aknamkanon helped his son get back up on his feet. “Whatever happens… No matter what this mysterious enemy throws at us, I will support you and guide my people through this war.”

[lothirielswan]

“The World’s Smallest Violin” [13]

~The Darkmoon Faire~

I saw him first. The case to my violin fit perfectly in my hand as I walked. Braizers spat violet flames. The Darkmoon Faire was a carnival full of magic and mystery. It only seemed to remind me of Lisa.

It was late in the evening, where shadows played tricks on the mind and people flocked like moths to the one source of light. Rides with blinking bulbs were blocked by crowds as I strolled to the patch of picnic tables and set down my case.

“So who won?” I asked Kalec.

Kalec’s eyes were wide upon first seeing me, but there were more pressing sights, specifically him. His leather armor was tattered and the cream-colored shirt underneath was in shreds.

Kalec didn't answer. He simply took a long drink from his mug and muttered in a hoarse voice, “Wrath’s a bastard.”

The wooden seat creaked as I sat down across from him. I edged my violin case to the side and positioned my bright-colored boots on one of the ledges below. “At least he can't say you’re invisible anymore.”

Kalec just out his jaw and my outfit. “Neither can he say that about you. What in Azeroth’s name are you wearing?”

“This?” I glanced down at the glistening teal fabric that would mean death in my rogue profession. That was not my job today. Gallywix–erm, Jastor had paid me, not in gold, but with a gig. He must’ve noticed the sheet music lying around my house. I wasn't serious about my music, but this opportunity lifted my suspicious mood. It seemed like a secret message from Jastor, specifically saying, ‘I like you, but I can still stick you wherever I want, Red–be a lamb and skin an exotic animal for my Pleasure Palace.’ Maybe it wasn't entirely that, but somewhere along those lines.

“Performers wear exotic things, and I thought you knew it's my job to embarrass you.” I teased.

“I thought your job was making me uncomfortable.”

“That’s part time. Different hours.”

“Ah. My mistake.”

Kalec sighed. His massive shoulder slumped forward, and I caught a glimpse of the bruises left behind in Wrathion’s wake. I squinted at a deep gash above his brow, “Wrath really did a number on you.”

“I don't know who taught him to punch that hard, or throw dirt in my face–” Kalec took one glance at my face. “–nevermind.”

I was about to say something else when Kalec’s gaze left me. He was staring at something behind me. It left him with a puzzled expression.

“You know...I think I need to go find something,” Kalec stood abruptly from the table. His mug still remained where it was, little drops of dew chasing each other down to the wooden counter.

“What's that?” I asked.

He smirked. “The world’s smallest violin.”

He ran off without another word. When he was out of sight, I glanced down at his unpaid drink and sighed. He didn't even leave me any. That's not funny.

“Eona?”

I looked up at a dark hooded figure. He was disguised well, but his posture was too perfect to be anyone else. I recognized the shadows of his face and smiled. “Hi, Tall, Dark and Mysterious.”

Anduin eased into Kalec’s empty spot, fixing his brown hood as he cast a look around. His stare trickled down to my outfit, “Greetings, you look...stunning.”

I tucked my bangs behind my ear, “Thanks, I guess we’re both wearing disguises. What’s the story behind yours?”

“You first,” He chided, resting his arms on the table.

We glanced up as fireworks fizzled across the cloudy twilight sky. When I shrugged my shoulders, the rubbery fabric seemed to give off its own light. It hugged my figure well and left my arms bare to the gentle touch of the breeze. “I play music. Jastor set it up for me.”

“You play?”Andy glanced at the black case with interest.

“Mhm.”

He grinned. “I’ll have to hear you sometime.”

I bobbed my head at his faded leathers. “And you?”

“Genn thinks that he's the new authority figure in my life and grounded me. I snuck out,” He explained with just a hint of irritation.

My eyebrow rose, and I wore a playful smile as I said, “How devious.”

“You should see me when I’m playing Hearthstone,” He replied.

I laughed, my fingers locking into knots on the table.

“So why did you come here?” I asked.

“To see you, actually...I have something for you.” Andy’s gloved hands searched his coat pockets until he came across a crinkly item. He gave me a letter.

“What's this?” I stared at the parchment. There wasn't wax sealing the opening, and the paper looked too fragile to be new. I glanced up at him for an answer.

“Not too long ago, you sent me a letter when…” Anduin paused. The words that came next were barely above a croak. “When my father died.”

My eyes widened. He went on, “I can't thank you enough for sending that...it gave me hope. I wrote a letter to you, in response to it, but I wanted to give it to you myself...and I have no idea how you got yours to Stormwind Keep.”

I smirked, but I didn't reveal my secret yet. I held up the letter, “Do you mind…?”

“No, not at all. It's for you, please,” Andy made an encouraging gesture toward it with his hand. The paper whispered it's protest as I undid the flap and my eyes flit over the slightly aged words,

My Dearest Eona,

I miss you more than ever. I miss your warmth, your liveliness, your laugh. I loathe the formality and distance that others treat me with, especially now. My father is gone, and I do not even have the luxury to grieve. There’s just the invasion...and the throne.

“You sound like you were in love with me,” I couldn’t stop my lips from curving up. He did write me one or two letters when we dated. I loved them–I think they’re probably still at my house. The curse of the dragon, finding value in everything. I can never throw anything away.

“I cared about you very much, and it was an emotional time.” Anduin licked his lips. His face had aged twenty years. I continued on,

Yes, I did get your last letter, and I don't know how you did it. How did you get the Alliance to accept your letter? It’s another one of the beautiful mysteries I remember about you, and hopefully one day, you will tell me. It is still my objective to achieve peace, I just wish my father would have seen it...the pain that I still receive from when Garrosh dropped the bell seems like a reminder. A reminder that in the end, I’m broken. A reminder that I failed once before, and it can happen again. I just hope everyone else doesn’t suffer with me.

Thank you for reaching out to me. I lost my father, but at least I still have you, Pink Rose. I wish you all the luck in the world to fight the Legion.

~Always Yours,

Anduin

For a long moment, my attention lingered on the last pair of perfect cursive words. Always Yours. We had gone our separate ways after Pandaria–I even started to see someone else when I was chasing Garrosh across a lively Draenor. Was it as serious as what I had with Anduin? Perhaps not. But this letter wasn't that old–a year, at least. It was recent.

Wait...pain from the bell?

I remembered my deal with Alexstrasza the Life Binder. I would spend time on the icy continent of Northrend, and she would heal Anduin’s wounds from the incident. I did what I was told. I endured my pain so she could take away his. But now...it was all for nothing.

I glanced up at Andy’s face, shocked by how much older he seemed than a mere handful of years ago. I finally recognized the slight indent of his brow, not out of concentration, but of restrained agony.

Anduin knew nothing of the deal, and I didn't want to discuss it now. Everything else I had read came back to me.

“You’re not broken, Andy,” I said, reaching across the table to give his hand a comforting squeeze. “Your father would be proud of you. You are a magnificent ruler.”

How could Varian not be proud? He’s so endearing–DAMMIT.

Anduin smiled, but it appeared more like a grimace. The air had gone from merry to melancholy. He dipped his head, “I believe you...thank you, Eona.”

He lies. I hide. We really are quite a pair.

As silence settled upon us, I plopped a few of my earnings in Kalec’s empty mug and slid it away. The blissful mirth of others mocked our ears. Two kids sped past, chasing one another. Despite the foul mood, a smile crossed my face.

“You like kids?”

“Hmm?” I glanced back up with surprise, my chin propped up by my elbows. Anduin’s gaze was curious. I said, “Yes. I babysit for Aggra and Go’el sometimes…”

“You never struck me as someone who wanted children,” Andy’s tone was softer than the hollow form it had taken on earlier. There was more life in his eyes.

“Liking little ones doesn't mean the same as wanting them,” I cautioned with a finger, “but in this case...I do. There weren’t a lot of children around on...where I was raised. I always thought it would be nice.”

It was a sad, hopeful dream born of a crumbling rock and the girl that lived on it. A cozy hearth. A jubilant family. My mother would dismiss it, finding it unfulfilling. In a way, I had already come very close to it. But I wasn't there.

“Let’s play a game,” Anduin said, straightening himself and returning to his poised, elegant state of sitting.

I smirked, “Andy, we both know you’ll beat my ass at Hearthstone. You don't have to prove that point again.”

“Not that,” I earned a chuckle from him. Andy continued, “We’ve been catching up already, but I want to try a different way.”

“Alright…” I found myself stiffening, as if expecting a blow. “What do you propose?”

Anduin stood from the table and presented his hand to me. “Truth or Tale?”

“You first.” I replied, rising from the picnic table with my instrument case in hand.

We walked side by side, a shady stranger and a wild-looking gypsy touring the Darkmoon Faire. Sizzles and pops and flashes tricked my senses as we strolled together. Anduin had offered to hold my case like the courteous gentleman he was, but I politely refused.

“Alright, I think I’ve got one,” Andy replied as we continued down the dirt row and passed tents full of applause. “I thought I saw my mother attend my father’s funeral.”

My feet came to a halt on the earthen path. He never mentioned his mother before.

“Truth?” I replied, willing my legs to keep moving as we heard the soft beckoning of the harbor.

Andy nodded. I asked, “You really think you saw her?”

“I never even met her; I barely know what she looks like. Used to have dreams about her when I was younger…” Anduin was full of wistfulness as he seemed to see something else besides the pointed roofs of tents. After a while he returned to the present. “Your turn.”

“Um…” My grip tightened on my case as I thought of what I could say. Hmm, should I use…? No, that’s too personal. How about…

“Vol’jin is the actual owner of my house,” I said.

Andy’s eyebrows furrowed. “Tale?”

There was a slight shake of my head. “Truth.”

“How come?” Andy asked. We came to the end of the Darkmoon Faire, looking out at the sea that surrounded the whole island. Waves reached out across the sand for a lost loved one that was no longer there.

“After chasing Garrosh…” Across Draenor. “we decided it was in everyone’s best interest that I retire.”

“How come?”

I leaned my case against the dark wood of the dock and faced the yearning waves.

“It's your turn.” I rasped.

[jolienjoyswriting]

Mortem In Contumeliam FFVI, Epilogue

The epilogue (and, final) chapter of "Mortem In Contumeliam Final Fantasy VI," a Final Fantasy VI fan fiction story.

I bet you expecting more of a finale than this, weren't you?  Weeell… I could have gone on-and-on, but I figured the story was getting a bit long.  Besides, this part of the game goes by in a flash, depending on how you approach it! But, really… I just thought a nice, simple ending was in order, after everything. … if there's interest, though… I might write an extra chapter (or, two) which goes into greater detail on certain events. Hell, who am I kidding?  I may just do it, anyway.  Just, not right away. … that comment might be invalid by the time this is posted.  I wrote all these descriptions on August 1st, ha hah.

Word count: 2,869 – Character count: 16,340 Originally written: July 29th, 2019

Two years after the end of the world…

Final Fantasy VI, Wedge, Biggs, and related characters, scenarios, and properties created by Square Soft, Inc. and © Square Enix Co, Ltd.

[ ← Prev. Chapter | Next Chapter → ]

    “I’m an Imperial soldier!  Or, at least… I survived being one…”

    That was the story a man wearing a facsimile Imperial Army uniform told people passing through the Dragon’s Head Colosseum.  Sometimes, he would mention something about the Emperor and “talking to him twice,” while other times, he’d offer friendly hints and suggestions about what to bet… though, that usually ended up with customers losing their items to an opponent they couldn’t win against.  Still, it was relatively honest work for modest-but-fair pay, and it kept him off of the streets.  But, one day…

    “Welcome to the Dragon’s Head Colosseum!  I–”     “Wedge…?  Is that you?”     The fake soldier tilted his head as he was interrupted by a blond-haired woman wearing a form-fitting, red dress.     “I’m an Imperial soldier!” he told her.  “Or at least… I survived being one…”     Without warning, she threw her arms around his shoulders, giving him a tight hug.     “You were right, Celes!” she called.  “It is Wedge!”     “No,” said another blond lady wearing a green unitard, white cape, and a blue bandanna.  “I said that I think it might be him.  I’d never forget that voice, after what I did…”     “I’m sure it’s him!” the first woman said, brightly smiling as she held him close.  “You’re Wedge, the former Magitek Soldier who tried to help save the world!”     “I… I did…?” was the “soldier’s” confused response.     “Mm-hmm!”     The woman finally stepped back, continuing to smile.     “You still have the sword I gave you.”     He looked down at the sword on his belt.  Unlike the rest of his costume… that was real.

    “A… a close friend gave me that…” he told her.     “I’m that close friend!”  She giggled a little before telling him, “Wedge, I’m Tina!”     “Tina…?  Y… you’re… Tina…?”     “I’m Tina!” she repeated with a bright smile.     As she calmed down and brought red-wrapped arms in front, the man took off his helmet and gave her a closer look.  Something was familiar about her bouncy, blond hair tied up in a ribbon, and her pinkish-red dress with its and lavender sash and stockings…  But, more than that, something about the way she smiled at him reminded him of… better days – days that weren’t just filled with fighting, days where “peace” didn’t seem like such a foreign concept, and days where he had dreams of spending a quiet life running a small shop with a sweet, hope-filled girl and his best friend… who, he suddenly realized, he hadn’t thought about in ages…     “B… Biggs…”

    As he started to cry, the woman named Tina pulled him inward.  She softly shushed him, telling him everything would be alright as she stroked his short, red hair.  It was kind of awkward for the other lady to watch… but, kind of heartwarming, too. –––––

    “And… that’s what you’ve missed.”

    Sometime later, Wedge found himself seated in a small, semi-decorated room.  After quitting his job at the coliseum, he’d followed Tina and Celes out and wound up climbing aboard an airship not unlike the one he remembered snapping in half during the end of the world, more-than-a-year prior.  The new one, though, was much faster… but, also had a severe lack of rooms, which is why he and Tina ended up talking in what looked to be a closet with a chair and a well-dressed window.

    “So, I didn’t dream all that?  The world really did end…?”     She gave a nod, having finished telling him everything that had happened after the cataclysm, then everything she’d been involved with, since.     “Heh.”  He rubbed his face.  “I… I guess I kind of lost my marble, for a while…”     “A lot of us did…”  She frowned as she told him, “Celes nearly ended it all when her friend, Doctor Cid, died.  Kaien gave up searching for us only to give hope to a sweet woman in Maranda whose husband died.  I’m… not entirely sure what happened to Stragos, but we found him at a building, worshiping Kefka as a god!  Thank goodness sweet little Lilum was with us,  though I wish she hadn’t physically slapped him…  She can be so strict with her grandfather!”

    “You’re… a mother, now, you said?”     “Adoptive mother,” the woman corrected, to his relief.  “It… it feels so… so…”     He tilted his head.  Tina was blushing, all-of-a-sudden…     “All my life,” she started over, “I never knew what love was.  When I found my way to Mobliz and saw all of those children with their sad faces… something inside just… called to me.  Before I knew it, I was taking care of them all.  I… I’d finally found the love I was looking for…     “When Humbaba stormed the village…”  She looked away, pausing.  “I was defenseless…  There was nothing I could do.  I almost gave up… but, Miss Celes and Mister Figaro saved me and the children.  I thought I’d failed them and swore to never leave their side… but, it wasn’t until Humbaba returned that I found a new reason to fight with all my power.”     She looked up, giving a soft smile.     “I’m fighting for the future.  For their future.”

    “Heh.  You’re an amazing lady, Tina…”     She smiled a little more, but…     “You seem sad…”     She’d noticed how quiet he’d gotten, since her story.     “It seems like everyone has something to fight for, now more than ever…”     “Don’t you?” she quietly asked.     “Nope…  I don’t have any reason to fight…  Nothing we can do will fix this world.  But, you guys are hellbent on trying!  I just… don’t belong with you guys.”  He sighed.  “Never have.”     “That’s not true,” the girl politely countered.     “Yeah?”  The former soldier crossed his arms.  “Why, exactly, should I stick around?”     He gave a blink, then.  Tina had leaned down and given him a soft peck on the cheek.  As she drew back, brushing her bangs away from her face, she gave a soft smile and whispered…     “For me.” –––––

    “Oh, gods, what’d they do?!  The place is falling apart!!”

    The assembled forces of fourteen unique individuals had done the impossible and destroyed not only three warring gods of destruction, but the person who had focused their power and become a god, himself.  And, as Kefka Palazzo fell… so did his tower of junk.

    Twelve of the New Returners had gone into Kefka’s Tower, leaving the former Imperial soldier named Wedge to keep the airship hovering nearby.  He had been freaking out, knowing that Kefka’s “Light of Judgment” could go off at any time, ripping right through the flying vehicle… but, he stayed true to his course.  Not just because he was supporting a noble goal… not just because Setzer, the owner of the new airship, threatened to track him down and murder him if he chickened out… but, because he was waiting for someone to come back… and, he wanted to be the first person she saw after climbing up the ship’s hook.

    When the tower shuddered, Wedge looked over just in time to see something at the apex explode!  He was sure the Falcon – Setzer’s late friend’s airship – would get hit by the blast, but he managed to steer it away from danger… only to pull back as the rocks and metal of the tall structure began to crumble and collapse.  Whatever those crazy adventurers had done… it had done a number on the tower!  He just hoped… that they’d done the same to its owner.

    “Come on… come on…!”     He nervously paced back-and-forth.  It had been several minutes since the mimic called Gogo and the mostly-friendly cave beast named Umaro climbed down and ran into the tower in an attempt to guide everyone out, and he was getting anxious.     “They’ve gotta be okay…  They’ve just gotta!”

    After a bit more pacing, he finally sat down, pressing his hand to his chest over his tunic.     “Gods…  This can’t be good for my heart,” he sighed.  “It feels like it’s beating like a war drum!  Actually, it feels like it’s vibrating…  And… tugging at my– waugh!!”     Without any warning, something ripped free of his top, knocking his hand out of the way!  A second later, he looked up… only to remove his goggles and go wide-eyed.     “What are you…?” he squeaked at the creature floating before him.     “You don’t recognize me?” it called in a voice that practically pierced into his mind.     “Sh-should I…?!”     “I spend the better part of two years with you, and you forget I even exist…?”     The brown-skinned creature with long, angular horns and purple-blue hair grinned.     “I shudder to think of how you’ll treat my daughter, later on in her life!”     He narrowed his eyes…  “Your daught–”  Only to open them right back up.     “Son of a submariner…  You’re Madin?!”     “You’re right,” he said with a warm smile, “and, I need to tell you something…”

    Madin had never appeared to him quite so clearly and, in fact, he wasn’t sure that, despite having his very soul next to his heart for over two years, the Eidolon had ever spoken to him, prior.  Needless to say, Wedge was all-ears, at that moment.

    “Wedge… I’m afraid that this is both the first time, and the last time, that I can appear like this.” he sadly told the man.  “The Eidolon’s souls are vanishing from this world.”     “What?  No!  Wait, that’s not fair!” Wedge exclaimed, his eyes going wide, again.     “Magic is dying…” he explained, “and, with it, all it has birthed.”     Well, that explained why Kefka’s Tower was falling apart, at least.  But…     “So, this is really it…?  I’ll never–”  The ex-soldier paused.  “Wait, Tina!  You– you have to say goodbye to Tina!!”     “I wish I could…”  He gave a forlorn smile as he said, “You’ll have to do it for me.”     The man slowly nodded, feeling himself tear up.  “I will, Madin, I will…”     “If you get the chance…”     “If I…?”  He looked up.  “What?”

    “Tina… my daughter…” the Eidolon quietly murmured.  “She is half of what I am.”     “Okay… but, what do you mean–”     “She may well vanish with the rest of us.”     Wedge was immediately sent into a panic.     “No– no-no– no-no-no…!”     “But…” the magical creature sighed as his form started to fade, “if she has been able to feel something precious, as a human…”     “If she’s… wait, what does that–”     “Then perhaps… as a… human…”     With those last, enigmatic words… Madin ceased to exist.

    For several moments, Wedge just held his head, sitting and rocking in-place.  He couldn’t believe… refused to believe… that, not a few days after being reunited with the woman he’d grown to love, she was going to… vanish.  Just like her father…  It was almost too much for him to bear.  But, eventually… he pulled himself up, leaped overboard, and started climbing down…     “Tiiinaaaaa…!!”     “Follow me!”     Only to see her whizz by in her Eidolon form.

    “Oh.”     He blankly stared, hanging onto the airship’s hook for a moment.     “W-wait, no– Tina!”     “Move it!!  We’ve got to get out of here!!”     Wedge yelped as Setzer clambered up the chain – and, subsequently, climbed him – before getting onto the deck.  A couple more people did the same before he finally got the message and returned to where he was, himself.

    Not long after everyone boarded, the airship roared away from the crumbling, exploding tower, led by a pinkish-purple light in the shape of a girl.     “Tina…!” Wedge called out.     “The last of the Magicite!”

    He looked back.  A crystal floated away from Edgar’s hand before bursting into dust.     “Tina…” the former soldier worriedly whimpered…     “Tina!  That’s enough!!” Celes cried to her friend from the ship’s head.  “Your power…”     Wedge had never felt so much sympathy for the former general as he did, then.  He, too, could see the half-Eidolon girl starting to falter… and, it was scaring him to a point of silence.

    As the tower collapsed and burst into a pile of rocky, molten slag, the Falcon pierced the dark clouds, closely following the half-Eidolon into open airspace.  It was strange… but, somehow, the previously-purple sky seemed like it was losing its ominous glow and reverting to a long-forgotten, familiar shade of blue.  Tina, on the other hand…     “No– no!!”     Suddenly, Celes and Edgar ran over to the side of the ship.  When Wedge looked that way, he noticed that Tina was slowing and starting to fall.  She looked a little pale, too…     “She’s losing her power!” the other blond woman shouted.     “Setzer!” Edgar called.  “After her!”     “Leave it to me!” the captain called from the steering wheel.  “Hang ooon…!”

    Everyone hung on to whatever they could as the airship shot straight down, breaking back through the clouds and chasing the falling woman.     “Tina!”     Wedge, who was starting to get used to a life of excitement, found himself losing focus…     “Tina…”     He squinted his eyes, his consciousness starting to slip.  And, soon…     “Ti… na…”     He blacked out.

    “Wedge?  Wedge…?  Are you alright?”     The ex-soldier groaned, shaking his head…  “Who… where…?”     “Relax, Wedge.  You’re with friends.”     He slowly opened his eyes, having trouble seeing straight.  All he could see was blurry shapes and colorful splotches…     “Can’t… see…” he huffed.  “What… happened?”     “What happened?” a smart-sounding voice repeated from nearby.  “What happened?!  I’ll tell you what happened, Cheese Wedge!  Setzer just saved your girlfriend’s butt after she flew us away from Kefka’s Tower – which is just a big pile of trash, now, by the way!”     “My… what?”  Wedge was… very confused.     “Lock…” the voice from before said, sounding shy.  “He’s not my boyfriend…”     “Not yet!” Lock laughed, “but, I’ve seen the way you two look at each other!  Plus, Shadow recently told me a fun little story from the past…”     “He– he didn’t!”  The female voice sounded nervous.     “He sure did!” her companion laughed.  “Never would’ve pegged this guy as a romantic…but, two people can learn a lot about each other when stuck on a flyin’ island, huh?”     Wedge heard a long, embarrassed groan and felt a weight compress his chest.  He tried to get a look at it… only to see what appeared to be someone’s blond-haired head resting on a pair of arms with pinkish-red opera-style gloves.  It didn’t take him much thought to realize…     “T… Tina!”

    The former soldier shot up like a rocket, accidentally throwing his friend’s head off of his body.  A second later, he felt incredibly dizzy and slumped back down.     “Careful…” he heard Tina say.     “What… happened?” he sighed, feeling her stroke his head.  “I remember a nosedive…”     “That’s ‘cause Setzer put the ship into a nosedive!” Lock explained with another laugh.  “Like I said, he saved Tina!”     “I told you, didn’t I?” a voice called from somewhere behind.  “The world’s fastest ship!”     “As far as we can tell… you passed out from the speed,” Tina added after that.     “Gotta say, that’s pretty embarrassing!”     “Lock!  Be nice!”     “Hey, just sayin’…”     “Anyway…” the kind woman continued, rubbing his cheek with the back of one hand.  “You just lay there on the couch until you feel better.  We’ll try and be quiet for you.”     “Once we’re done partying, anyway!  Not every day ya kick four war-gods’ asses!”     “You… what…?”

    Wedge slowly sat back up, then looked at his companions.  Tina was seated on the floor, fondly smiling at him with gentle eyes while Lock stood behind her, his arms crossed and a grin on his face.  When he tossed a random thumbs up, Wedge just tilted his head.     “Where… is everyone?” he found himself asking, suddenly noticing a lack of people.     “They’re celebrating up top!” Lock answered.  “You’re welcome to join us when ya feel better!  I mean, you just drove the airship while we did all the heavy lifting, buuut…”     “Lock!”     Tina gave her friend a dirty look as he shrugged and walked away with a smile.

    “Anyway, you just rest, and I’ll–”     “Tina, there’s something I need to tell you.”     She tilted her head.  “Can it wait?  You still haven’t recovered.”     “I…”  He hesitated before telling her, “I saw your dad.”     “You did?”     Somehow… she didn’t seem as surprised as he was expecting.     “He said to tell you ‘goodbye…’  He also said you might vanish… b-but, you didn’t!”     The man smiled… before looking down at the couch he was seated on.     “Tina…  I’m so sorry…  He was a good dad.”     When he looked back up, he saw that Tina was still smiling… but, she also looked sad.     “If I hadn’t kept him all to myself for the last two years…  If I’d only give him back…!”     “It’s okay,” she said, shaking her head with a little sniffle.  “You needed him more.”     “But–!”     She pressed a finger to his lips, her smile brightening a little.     “I’m going to Mobliz, soon.  I want to check on the children.  Come with me?”     “Uh…”  He blinked… then, he smiled.  “It’s a date?”     “About time!” she exclaimed.  “It’s not nice to keep a girl waiting for two whole years!”     He had to blink, again.  She’d used a scolding tone… but, she was grinning.  And, that was enough to get him smiling, again, which put an even brighter smile back on her face!

    “You… are a precious cinnamon bun, Tina…” was all he had to say before finally resting…

[vaderssidechick]

FIC SNIPPET: Dark Angel: Dathomir, Chapter II

It’s goin’ slow folks, but thought I’d drop a snip from the next chapter of Dark Angel: Dathomir. 

Characters: Sergeant Kreel, Baroness Lylla Sa’thraxxx (OFC)

Series can be found here: https://archiveofourown.org/series/762363

Kreel glanced her way, and nodded. “Affirmative.” He looked out on the barren red waste before them as he weighed a question. “Baroness,” he began quietly, “when you say this planet is a conduit for the Force… you mean the Dark Side, don’t you?”

She turned, surprise gaping her lips. "You know about the split in the Force, the Light and the Dark?"

Kreel nodded. "Grakka the Hutt collected Jedi artifacts--”

“Like the one you carry in that pouch on your belt,” Lylla interjected. She met Kreel’s stare. “I saw you palm it in the hangar when I startled you. What is it?”

“It’s a lightsaber, ma’am,” Kreel answered, touching the pouch once more.

She drew back in her saddle. “And you know how to use it?”

“Lord Vader showed me a few moves, yes.”

“Did he?” She cocked an eyebrow. The Might of the Empire deemed this Force-blind stormtrooper worthy enough to train with a lightsaber? Interesting. She gestured lightly. “Continue.”

“I read some things, about the Jedi, their interpretation of the Force, both the Light and the Dark. ‘Love all life, no matter what’. Even if that ‘life’ is murdering your family in front of you." Lylla noted the way his fist tightened around the reins. "Pretty words, and utter shavit. That's not how the universe works.” He tapped that fist on his armored thigh with every word. “Order. Strength. And the will to do what needs to be done. That's what keeps the peace, that's what brings security. Lord Vader understands that. If he uses the Dark Side of the Force to make it happen for this shit galaxy, I doesn��t bother me one bit."

Lylla settled back in her saddle, eyeing him intently. "Tell me your opinion of Lord Vader, Sergeant.” She cracked a smile when Kreel peered at her through his lenses. “I assure you, this conversation is confidential. The tac-net is muted. You are safe."

He stared at her a few more seconds, measuring her intent, before he conceded, "He is the greatest warrior I've ever known, Baroness. I don't just mean as Supreme Commander of the Imperial Forces. I mean on the ground, in the mess, fighting beside us. Your platoon deploys with Lord Vader, you know you're coming home alive that day. He fights like an AT-AT and fears nothing.”

"How does he treat his men?” she asked, genuinely curious. “The troops I mean.”

Kreel hesitated for a moment before he huffed a chuckle. "He positively dotes on us, ma'am. I mean, in his own way.”

She chuckled. "I understand. Perfectly."

“He’s got no respect for those pinky-lifting Prefsbelt boys in the officers’ corps, who call a battle from cushioned seats and bellies full of real food. Well, Piett maybe, but he’s a Rimworlder who’s seen some action, like me.” He cocked his helmet toward her. “Like you.” Lylla smirked. Kreel continued. “Lord Vader is demanding, but he expects excellence and inspires us to achieve it." He blew a sigh. “When the Garscon system went public in their support for Lord Vader as the Emperor’s legal heir, he granted every troop in the 501st a reenlistment bonus of five years pay. Tax free, right into the every troops’ account. And doubled our pensions and death benefits to the families. That’s almost a million credits per troop.” He snorted. “Pissed the officers’ corps off to no end, which made it even sweeter. Hell, we had nothing to do with the Garsconi Allegiance, but he did it anyway.”

“Really?” Vader had taken the tithe she’d manipulated from the King and Queen of Garscon and awarded it to the 501st?  She huffed an incredulous breath. “And he says he’s not a politician.”

“Ma’am?”

“I needn’t tell you that his actions weren’t out of benevolence, do I? He was ensuring the 501st’s loyalty.”

Kreel shrugged. “It worked. Every troop in Vader’s Fist signed back up. We make it out of the corps alive, we’re set for life. We don’t, families don’t sell their kids to feed their other kids. A good life for us, and a good death too. Not like the fucking Republic did to their clones.”

“Do you think he’ll make a good Emperor, Sergeant Kreel?” Kreel slowly turned to meet Lylla’s cold stare. “Be truthful. Do not tell me what you think I want to hear.”

“As far as I’m concerned ma’am, he already is,” Kreel answered, lowly yet firmly. “Lord Vader isn’t just a man. He’s the symbol of the Empire and everything it stands for. And...with a woman like you at his side, I have no doubt that he will raise the Empire to even greater glory and prosperity.” He held her cowl-shrouded white stare before he jerked his attention forward. “I just hope I’m around to see that day come.”

But Lylla never broke hers on him. She allowed a few moments to pass before it was time to finally get this out in the open. “And what do you plan on doing with that bonus when you leave, Sergeant? Settle down? Make little Kreels?”

Kreel huffed. “Don’t plan on leaving the Corps on my feet, Baroness. No better death than dying in the name of the Empire. But by the Force-damned chance that I might…” He shook his head. “No. That ain’t me.”

“You sure about that? A powerful…” She took a long breath, “virile man like you leading a life of celibacy? Sounds downright Jedi.” A beat. “What a waste.”

She’d done something with her voice, woven it into a silken purr that seeped into his ear and curled around his neck like a loth kitt. Kreel slowly turned her way, right into the trap of her white eyes. Even under the shadow of her cowl, he saw her pupils blow wide under her black lashes, and the subtlest curve in her moist lips caused his breath to hitch. He couldn’t count how many nubile pleasure-slave bodies he had seen in his lifetime, all of which would cause any groin to twitch. But they paled in comparison to the sultry look this creature was giving him now.

Lylla canted her head. “May I ask you a question, Sergeant?”

“Of course, Baroness,” he said through a throat that had gone suddenly dry.

“Why don’t you ever take your helmet off?” She gave a lilting shrug. “I’ve seen all of SCAR’s faces, but never yours. Why is that?”

“I take it off to eat and sleep. And then only sometimes,” he answered quickly.

“I didn’t ask when you take it off. I asked why you don’t.”

That sniper-scope glare of hers told him she wasn’t about to let up. Kreel sighed. “Very well, Baroness. You know I’m from Chagar IX.”

“Of course.”

“And you know Chagar IX was a Republic penal colony for the Zapaach Sector before the Empire came?”

She dipped her head in acknowledgement. “I do.”

“Then you know that… prisoners interbred. A hundred different races for a hundred generations.” He straightened in his saddle. “I’m not entirely human, ma’am.”

Lylla arched a brow. “I see. You don’t want to call attention.”

“That doesn’t matter to me. My helmet is my face, my armor is my skin. I’m an Imperial stormtrooper, that’s it. Don’t need to be anyone or anything else.” He blew a breath. “Haven’t seen my own face in years.”

“Not even to shave?”

“I don’t grow hair, so don’t need to.”

Lylla barked a laugh. Kreel turned to see her slide her hand under her cowl to fetch a lock of her scarlet hair. When she pulled it out, it had grown past her shoulder. “Consider yourself lucky, Sergeant.” She laughed again, a giggle and a growl all rolled into one.

A bead of sweat dripped under his helmet. He’d never been good with intimacy-- it got you and them killed. But he knew flirting when he saw it. She’s testing you, he growled in his head. Don’t kriff this up.

She pinched a tiny frown as she examined the lock. “Hmm. Doesn’t usually grow this fast.”

“Must be this planet,” he grunted, shifting again in his saddle, looking off at the rusted cliffs to his right. “Like you said, it’s affecting us.” He cracked his neck with a jerk. “It’s affecting me.”.  

"You are referring to your sexual attraction to me, which has only intensified since we landed," Lylla stated bluntly. Kreel snapped his head back to her and went completely stiff. Her smirk widened into a grin. “You’re not exactly subtle about it, Sergeant.”

Kreel felt like a Gundark just kicked him in the chest. “Baroness...” A rush of breath came from his vocoder as he looked away. His heart pounded in his ears.

“It’s the planet, like you said. I’m not offended.” But then, Lylla laughed again. And tossed a wave of her hand. “Besides, I am fully aware of how beautiful I am.” The grin faded as her eyes grew dark. “It’s what kept me alive for so long.”

“No. You’re different,” Kreel blurted quietly. “Saw a lot of pleasure slaves, both on Chagar IX and Nar Shaddaa. They were beautiful too. Never met one who made it past the age of twenty-five.” Lylla slit her eyes into an icy glare. He shook his head. “What I mean is… they weren’t smart like you. They never learned how to play the game to survive. They never got good at what they were. That’s how you come out alive. That’s why you survived the skin trade, and I survived the fighting pits.”

Lylla softened her hard stare on the Sergeant. “We have much in common, don’t we? We both got good. For you it was killing, for me it was kriffing.”

Lylla just laughed again, quietly and genuinely. But Kreel stiffened to attention in his saddle, facing stoically forward. “Baroness, you are my commander and will someday be my Empress. I beg your forgiveness.” He took a deep breath. “When you inform Lord Vader, I will accept my punishment.”

Lylla scoffed, striking a look of mild incredulity. “I told you Sergeant, this conversation is completely confidential. I won’t tell Lord Vader a thing.” But then all traces of girlish seduction hardened into a dangerous glare under her cowl. “Unless, of course, you give me reason to.”

She needn’t say more. That look told him everything. I am the Dragon. I am beyond anything you could ever dream to have. I am untouchable.

Drawing his huge shoulders back, Kreel reached into the pouch on his belt and pulled out his lightsaber. He turned the butt toward Lylla. “If I even look at you wrong from here on out,” he said, his voice low and severe, “You run this through my chest.” He held it out to her. “I will never betray you that way, Baroness Sa’thraxxx. I swear this to you.”

Lylla drew back in her saddle, eyes wide, lips dropped open. A truth webbed across her mind, one that until this moment was merely a dream for victory, an abstract prize that could still be years away. But here it was, now and very real, astride a beast and offering her his saber.

A warrior swearing fealty to a queen.

Moments passed before Lylla found her breath again and collected herself into a very practiced composure. “Well then, I’m glad we have an understanding.” She cleared her throat, irritated at its sudden dehydration. She grasped her canteen once again and brought it to her lips. Now it was her avoiding his gaze. “You may put that away now. I don’t even know how to turn it on.”

[mfmagazine]

Jonathan Chase

Article by Jack Oughton

Photo by Stephen Busken

Johnathan Chase is a multitalented film, stage and TV actor hailing from Boca Raton, Florida. Much more than just a pretty face, he may be best known as a comic actor in his role as Cash off of UPN show One on One. His impressive filmography includes Monk, Gamer and Eagle Eye. He's no stranger to TV either, with appearances on CSI:NY, Roommates and Leverage. He's lent his vocal talents to gaming too, voice acting as military man Patrick Connolly in Rockstar Games' LA Noire, and as Brian 'Lynx' Ross in the eagerly anticipated Call Of Duty: Modern Warfare 3. He's genuinely hilarious, read our interview below and see for yourself!

You trained with the Upright Citizens Brigade - where you learned improv amongst other things, right? What kinda stuff do those guys teach you, how'd you find the experience?

I started training improv in NYC at Upright Citizens Brigade years ago and I fell in love with it. I continued my training with them out in LA and I was a regular performer at Improv Olympic West for years as well. I had to take a break from improv for my shooting schedule with HBO/Cinemax's "Chemistry." Improv teaches you how to handle anything that gets thrown your way. Of course, they teach you comedy, but they definitely prepare you to respond in the moment.

How does acting for film compare with acting for TV? Which do you prefer?

When it comes to films, you get to tell a complete story. Or at least a complete section of one larger story. In TV, you tell a story as well, but a smaller length of it. You are always saving more for the next episode. I love both mediums. I can sit and watch Takashi Miike films for a week, or I can knock out the entire series of Sons of Anarchy. There are so many great films and television out there. I don't treat TV or Film differently, from an acting standpoint. I take it scene by scene, and ask myself, "what story am I trying to tell now?"

If you could have dinner with anybody, real or fictional, who would it be, what would you discuss?

Javier Bardem. So many questions. I have seen every one of his films. I would probably start with picking his brain on how he approaches his work. How does he delve into a character? If Javier couldn't make it, we might have to resurrect Sergio Leone. He directed my favorite film of all time, Once Upon A Time in America.

If a famous musician was to write the Jonathan Chase theme tune, who'd do it, and what'd the song be like?

My theme song would be composed by Ennio Morricone and would sound like The Man With The Harmonica score from Once Upon A Time In The West. I'd take any soundtrack to a spaghetti western. And I would slow walk in the music video...wielding a gun. Nope....two guns. Let's say Ennio is tied up, then my song would be from the film that just came out, Attack The Block. Get That Snitch by Mikis Michaelides. "Brap brap brap!" If you saw the awesome alien invasion film set in a south London, you would understand.

I read that you got to play Patrick Connolly in L.A Noire. What's it like to portray a video game character?

It was brilliant. I love video games. I am a huge gamer. I was super ecstatic to finally be in one. And being in one of the biggest games of all time couldn't hurt. Shooting those scenes were intense. I don't want to spoil the story for those who have yet to play it, but I was in the military section of the game. My scenes are action packed.

What was your experience like working on big film productions such as All About Steve and Gamer?

Big budget films are great. I was in Albuquerque for 3 months shooting Gamer. It was the dead of winter and I was leading my Geek Squad thru a section of downtown. It must have been below 20 with the wind-chill. Now, on an indie film you would have to just deal with it. But with big budget, we had Under Armor, skin tight suits under our costumes. Baller!

Would you say you are the hard partying type?

I would say no. Then again for the last 2 months I have been out drinking with friends and family 2-3 times a week. And I've been partying everywhere too. From Malibu to Downtown LA and Chicago to Aspen. I would "love" to say no. Ha ha. But last night I had a few Manhattans at Firefly for a bachelor party!

When was your 'big break'? What did you do to get it?

I have been very fortunate in my career. I like to think I have had so many big breaks. UPN's One On One was a big TV break for me. It gave me 22 episodes on the air and I like to think I was hilarious in it. I did say, "I like to think." GAMER was a big break for me in the land of huge films. And HBO/Cinemax's "Chemistry" is my new big break as being the number 1 on a show. Breaks come and go. I like to enjoy 'em while they last.

Your favorite place in all the world?

Siena, Italy. Amazing. Beautiful cobble stone streets. If you have never been, go. Seriously, stop this interview. Go now. No. Stop asking questions dammit! Siena!

Whats the best part of your job?

The best part of acting. Is when you are on set, actually working thru scenes in front of the camera.

And the worst part?

The auditioning and waiting to hear if you got the part is the worst.

The best tasting food you ever had was?

Last week. At the Yamashiro Farmer's Market. Every Thursday night in Hollywood all summer long there is an outdoor market, which incidentally, a friend of mine created. They have some amazing food carts there. I had black cod with miso tacos, and chicken satay tacos. Also they have a guacamole infused with wasabi. And the salsa had ginger in it. Best food I ever had.

And the worst was?

Worst food. Hmm. I was in London in college, studying abroad. And in Piccadilly Circus area there are some food vendors. I had a sausage dog wrapped in bacon with grilled onions. I was drunk at the time and would have eaten my shoes if someone served them. I don't eat like that anymore. That was ages ago. Of course they fueled me with the idiocy to jog to Kensington in the rain. Worst my stomach ever felt.

Of all your work so far, which is most important to you?

I worked on an indie film last year called "Dorfman." I play Daniel Dorfman, one of the films main characters. I hope that film comes to theaters one day, because I felt my work on it told a very personal story. I was going through a huge shift in my life during shooting and I brought it to my character. I also pitched the name for that film from its previous title. It is dear to me. Also, I got my start in NYC, right out of college, as part of a Shakespeare Company called Gorilla Rep. That was some of my most important work. Performing in parks for crowds of hundreds for free.

The role that you'd most like to play?

I would kill to be in a sci-fi or medieval TV series or film trilogy. Like "Game of Thrones" and "The Hobbit." I love fantasy and dragons and dungeons. Hell, put those in a sitcom and I'll do it. A very bloody, British sitcom set in the 1054AD. We can call it 'How I Met Your Highness.'

Your biggest inspiration?

My parents. They have always pushed me to do my very best. Without Ray and Kathi, I would be nothing.

Finish these sentences "Though I have never, I'd like to..."

Though I have never been to space, I would like to. Now if only I had billions of dollars, I could buy all that scrap metal NASA is dumping and take some friends.

and "Putting fireworks in the microwave is..."

Putting fireworks in the microwave, is much safer than putting them in your mouth.

If you weren't acting what would you be doing instead?

I would own a juice bar and health food chain, called Greenfields. Hey, you asked. Wait...why aren't you in Siena right now? WTF!

[sugirandom]

End or year meme: 3, 4, 10, 15, 20, 26, 27, 34, 35, 36, 40, 41, 42, 44, 45 (As usual a lot of them XD; )

3. Do you feel your age? Sometimes, yes and sometimes no. I mean the fact that I can’t rebound from sleep issues as easily and that my energy isn’t as high certainly makes me feel my age, interacting with younger people and realizing how far apart our mind-spaces can be makes me feel my age but my parents don’t treat me the age I am and sometimes with the way they treat me I feel more like a teenager…(not to mention I’ve had strangers assume I’m younger because of my height…) so it’s kinda yes and no.

4. Did your appearance change in anyway? I suppose so yeah, inevitably I gained back the weight I lost in Japan, even though I wasn’t there long enough to lose as much as previous visits. I got a haircut twice in the year but nothing drastic…so there’s that too.

10.What song sums up this year for you? Oh gosh…I hmmm…that’s not an easy one..a huge part of the year was about waiting and struggling to get things in motion, after a rough beginning but it’s ending well…so I guess I’ll go with Sekirei by Gackt because… well I guess to sum it up simply (at least by my understanding) he sings about the pain and struggles he’s facing through the cold winter but by the end of the song he mentions that he sees a Sekirei which in Japan is usual a signal that spring is coming. It’s pretty common for songs to use Winter and Spring as suffering and the end of suffering and having SAD I can relate to that so…yes that’s the song I chose for this year.

15.Which new ship/fandom has taken over a lot of your time, attention, and tears?Dragon Ball Z tbh…I still focus on my other fandoms but that’s the ‘new’ one…tying to figure out how Bulma, Vegeta, and Goku as a Polyship would play out because separately  the ships (in all iterations) are precious to me but why not go for all three? (I’m still obsessed with my usual ships too. My bestbro and I are also currently obsessed with our crackship…that is sort of a legit ship too of Cooking Mama (from the video game) with Cooking Papa (from a manga of the same title).)

20. Did you develop a new obsession? No, not really…the panels I went to at Anime Pavilion reignited a lot of passion I had for Voice Acting but I wouldn’t say I have any new obsessions.

26. Do you regret doing something?  Not really any regrets, I’m disappointed that I couldn’t figure out how to pursue voice acting while I was home but a lot of that had to do with the fact that I just couldn’t get a job here in the U.S. so therefore couldn’t financially support getting a voice coach so that’s not in my control and is pointless to feel regret over..so no regrets, just disappointments.

27.Have you done anything that scared you? Nothing that’s caused that deep kind of long-lasting fear no. A little thing I did that was scary at the time was when Poppy left the key to our house in the house and we couldn’t access the spare key I had to climb into one of our windows which was terrifying but…I made it without falling or getting hurt so I’m actually proud of myself. 

34.Did you have to cut ties to someone?  Yes, a lady I was talking to on the dating site I was using for a few reasons. None of it was her fault but a lot of the personal drama she was going through was sort of giving me PTSD with my ex so I distanced myself. She also gave me the impression that she wasn’t going to get into that stuff initially so that didn’t help…

35.Who was important to you this year but wasn’t important last year?  IDK, I can’t say there’s anyone majorly important that wasn’t last year. I don’t turn on and off that quickly with people. In terms of just following someone on youtube though I have two new youtubers I’m following that I wasn’t before so does that count? I’m now following a guy called Macdoesit and that’s big because despite my of course being really into the LGBTQA+ community I’m not usually following specific channels that are LGBTQA+ and this guy is the first one..

36.Who wasn’t as important to you this year as they were last year? Well, the best friend I had a long time ago in high school has stopped trying to keep in contact with me completely so I’ve basically stopped caring about her because why waste energy on someone who doesn’t give you any time of day?

40.Did anything happen that you were sure would change you as a person but it really didn’t? I guess my mom being as sick as she was… and me having to take care of her. I thought it would ease our relationship and my issues with her but it didn’t at all and if anything caused a little more tension in areas.

41. Did anything happen to you that you were sure wouldn’t change you as a person but it did? Hmm…I’m not sure..I don’t feel like I’ve changed a whole lot this year…I mean I guess I wasn’t expecting that I’d go back to applying to jobs in Japan but after 6 months of being unable to get a decent-paying job offer here in the U.S. I joked about trying to apply for jobs in Japan again and when Poppy responded positively to it I realized it quickly wasn’t a joke..so I guess it’s not an exact event but I’m surprised that I went back to that.

42.What are you most proud of accomplishing? I guess I’m just proud of myself for continuing to bounce-back. I initially felt like I was being an idiot for wanting to go back to Japan knowing that three out of four trips had such negative events in them yet I’m still able to believe that I’ll find the right fit or at least a temporary fit for me to get enough experience to work towards something better…that and I feel like I nailed the job interview I had….it wasn’t easy… an hour and a half interview.

44. Did your opinion of anyone change for the better? Yeah, seeing a lot of the Voice Actresses at Anime USA made me feel like they really did know what they were doing and it was nice to see their passion for voice acting. I’m always happy when I get the feeling that they have passion for their work. I didn’t know anything about Monica Rial as a person for example and I’m not a fan of her voice work so that’s all I had to go off of but seeing her at the voice acting panels really made me respect her as a voice actress and a kind individual despite me still not liking her voice work that much.

45. Did your opinion of anyone change for worse?

The former high school best friend as I mentioned before but that was going downhill quickly anyway…umm a few people I knew from high school who I realized thanks to facebook are actually shallow people but they weren’t friends so I guess it’s not a big deal. Some youtubers thanks to drama.

[depression-in-the-fire-nation]

Hobo Woodman Ozai

Does this AU have a title? I don’t know. Do you know, @sky-kiss​ ?

Either way, I am ashamed of how poorly edited it is, but. Just. Read around the bad parts :D

Continued from here

***

The subject came up one day over breakfast, which the girl shovelled enthusiastically into her mouth while babbling on and on about a school somewhere.

“Her manners are appalling,” Ozai said.

Two pairs of amber-coloured eyes looked at him coldly. He sipped his tea in dignified silence.

“Calm down, dear,” Ursa said gently.

It was truly amazing how quickly her mood swayed from one extreme to another when Ozai and their daughter were in the same room. With care and patience, she instructed the girl on how to sit and eat properly, as befitted their station – the reality of their current circumstances, after all, did not change it in the slightest. When Ozai was concerned, however, the warm voice and gentle smile were nowhere to be found.

He weathered Ursa’s glare with a smile of his own. There was more to be said, but it had to wait until later, when he cornered her in their tiny kitchen.

She was washing the dishes. Her skin, once flawless, now bore the subtle signs of physical labour. A part of him longed to feel it beneath his fingers, each callous and imperfection that marred its beauty. He resisted the pull, knowing his touch would not be welcome.

“Which school are you sending her to?” Ozai asked.

Ursa set down a wet plate and picked up another, dipping it in soapy water.

“I’m going to buy a house in Ba Sing Se,” she said. “We will have to move for the winter either way.”

Ba Sing Se. The impenetrable walls which held Iroh off for hundreds of days, and which Azula so cleverly bypassed. Safe from the turmoil of the war, prosperous, crowded – but stagnant, set in its old-fashioned ways. Like everything else in Earth Kingdom, the city did not seek change or improvement. The people had no desire, no will to better their lives. This was no place for a Fire Nation princess.

“She would be better off if you educated her yourself,” Ozai said.

“I am. But she needs the company of children her own age,” Ursa said.

“Peasant children,” Ozai imbued the word with all the contempt it deserved. “Our daughter should be schooled in the Capital—”

The plate in Ursa’s hands came down with a loud clang.

“My daughter, dear husband. Do not forget that you banished us both from the Fire Nation.”

He was no longer fooled by her steady voice. She turned to look at him, breath-taking in her rage.

“I saved you from execution,” Ozai said.

“How merciful you were,” she said, cold. “Truly. I shall forever praise your generosity.”

Even from a distance, he could sense the disturbed flow of her chi. The fire she longed to hurl at him sparked at her fingertips, while his own remained numb and lifeless. Yet for her the gift was no more than a practicality. Ozai supposed it served her well in her exile, as means of protection for herself and the child. Also as a danger that could expose her identity to any onlookers. Nevertheless, Ursa was never taught to hold it in the highest regard, as a blessing bestowed only upon the select few. Of which Ozai was no longer a part of. Under her tutelage, the girl would grow up the same.

The thought was intolerable.

“Zuko would welcome you back with open arms,” Ozai said. “Only your own stubbornness is keeping you away.”

He had dug his nails into an open, festering wound on Ursa’s conscience. She paled, her pained expression betraying more of her feelings than she wished to.

“Stubbornness has nothing to do with it,” she said.

“Call it fear, then. Whatever it is, it doesn’t change the fact that you’d rather keep the girl away from her true heritage.”

“Maybe that’s a good thing,” Ursa laughed bitterly. “Look around you. Look what became of you, and of me. This is her heritage now, Ozai.”

“You give up so easily,” Ozai said.

All of a sudden, she looked tired. No more than a peasant woman, washing her own dishes, repairing old clothes, working odd jobs to keep her daughter fed. And he did this to her; he alone. A long time ago, he took the daughter of a disgraced rural magistrate and made her a princess. Just as swiftly, he knocked her down.

She would hate to hear the truth put that way, so he kept his mouth shut. Something showed in his face, however, because he was treated to an angry look, and then an indifferent shrug.

“You lost, Ozai,” Ursa said, turning away from him. “Learn to live with it. I did.”

***

He wasn’t going to.

Day and night, he trained and worked and then trained again. It helped keep his mind at ease, all the rage and frustration which made it impossible to think channelled through physical strain. The girl could not hope to keep up, but she did her best.

He was perhaps unduly harsh with his instructions. Ursa was too soft-hearted to instil proper discipline in the girl. Ozai was met with refusal, defiance, and tears. And yet, every day at sunrise, their daughter was there, glaring but ready to learn.

“Mamma says I won’t be able to practice firebending in Ba Sing Se,” she explained.

“And yet you want to go,” Ozai said.

She nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah! Mamma says I could go to school. She says there will be lots of other kids to play with. Last summer we went to Omashu, and they had a big marketplace and we played games and—” she chattered on. “Mamma also says I can pick a name for myself!”

That made Ozai pause.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, see,” the girl said. “She says it’s safer to use different names in different places. In case we were being followed.” She frowned. “She never said who followed us. Or why.”

“Your mother’s paranoid,” Ozai said. Although it did explain why his spies lost track of Ursa’s movements so quickly.

“What’s ‘paranoid’?”

She looked up at him with earnest golden eyes. Ozai frowned.

“You have scrolls, don’t you? Look it up.”

“But—”

“Resume your form. Now.”

Grumbling, she complied. Over time her movements became more fluid – a far cry from the choppy mockery they used to be. She still lacked the ease and grace Azula displayed from an early age, but she showed promise.

***

Winter was approaching them. With it, Ursa’s departure to Ba Sing Se.

He wasn’t planning to follow, of course. There were people loyal to him back in the Capital. With time, he would gather enough supporters to challenge Zuko’s unlawful seizing of the throne. The opportune moment would come soon enough, when the people recognized a teenager’s inability to lead a nation and began to blame him for all the misfortunes that befell them. But when the time came, he would have to be ready.

Ozai found himself moving closer to the burning fireplace, the sight of the dancing flames resonating with the deep, hollow ache in his chest. He would move as soon as he recuperated his strength.

Ursa pretended not to notice his melancholy, focused on her task. She had earned some coin through copying scrolls, her calligraphy neat and elegant. Next to her, the girl was playing with ink, most often drawing dragons and sticky figures. Today, however, she was putting down blocky, uneven characters, more Earth Kingdom than Fire Nation in their design.

“Hmm. Fang. I wanna be called Fang,” she declared suddenly.

“Why?” Ursa asked, amused.

“Because it was the last Fire Nation Avatar!”

Ozai raised an eyebrow.

“The previous Avatar was called Roku. Fang was his dragon,” he said coolly.

The girl looked at him with a quizzical expression.

“That makes no sense,” she said. “Why would they choose a human Avatar if they could have a dragon Avatar?”

Ozai stared at her.

“This… isn’t how this works. At all.”

But his words fell on empty ears. The girl bounced on her feet and grabbed his hand, her palms comically small next to his.

“Come on! Let’s practice more firebending. I’m gonna be a dragon!”

She would bother him endlessly unless he gave in. Ozai sighed and stood up.

Ursa was looking at him with an odd expression, eyebrows raised, her brush frozen an inch above the parchment.

“She falls asleep quicker when she’s tired,” Ozai said, then pressed his mouth shut. He did not need to explain himself to Ursa.

“If you say so,” Ursa said, fighting a disbelieving smile.

***

A few days later, when he was overseeing her training, Fang slipped.

Her balance was off as she went through a more complicated move she had been trying to master. Ozai told her so, frowning with disapproval. Instead of getting up and starting over, however, the girl looked up at him with tears shining in her eyes and clutched her ankle.

“It hurts,” she protested.

“The pain is in your mind,” Ozai said. “You must learn to control it.”

“No, it’s not, it’s in my leg,” she said, sniffling. “And it hurts. I wanna go home.”

“We are not done for today.”

Tears were streaming down her cheeks, her pathetic wails carrying through the forest. Her ankle was perhaps a bit swollen, from what Ozai could see.

He rubbed the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger.

“Very well. You may go,” he said.

She tried to scramble up, but as soon as more weight was put on her injured leg, she dropped down again onto the ground, crying harder.

“I can’t,” she said. “Mom!”

“Quiet,” Ozai hissed.

If Ursa heard her, he’d be dead.

With no other option, he walked over and gathered the child in his arms. Her crying subsided slightly, giving way to sniffled, and she rubbed the tears from her eyes.

“Huh,” she said. “Your beard is weird.”

“Quiet, I said,” Ozai said.

“Okay,” Fang replied.

She didn’t weigh much, and thankfully remained still when he carried her home. When they entered, she even managed a feeble smile, reaching for Ursa who stared at them both with a stricken expression.

“She lost her balance,” Ozai explained, positioning her on her bedroll. Then he took one look at Ursa’s face, and added: “I’m going hunting.”

Just in case, he didn’t come back until late evening.

***

Soon enough, Fang was running around as always, although she wasn’t permitted to practice any bending. Ursa hasn’t said a word to him since the accident.

Alone, Ozai went back to practicing with the swords. Even despite the silence and the solitude, he found it difficult to concentrate. It seemed that everywhere he looked, he could see Ursa’s accusatory glare.

There she was, this time in person. She stood beneath a tree, hands folded over her breast, eyes narrowed.

Ozai spun around, the swords cutting through the air with a loud whoosh, and then embedded them both in a nearby tree.

“Do not damage my property, please,” Ursa said coolly.

He retrieved them easily, their handles now an easy and comfortable fit in his grip.

“Fight me,” he said without looking at her.

“No.”

“We both need practice,” he said.

“You most certainly do,” she replied.

Ozai tossed one of the swords in her direction. Instincts took over, and Ursa’s hand snatched it up from the air. When he smirked at her, Ursa shifted into a fighting stance. She circled him around the clearing, sword held at the ready. Then she attacked.

He had the advantage of strength and bulk, but she played it cleverly, turning his blows against him with an unforeseen skill. Exile had necessitated that particular ability; Ozai was pleased to see his wife was able to defend herself.

The two swords were not separate weapons, but parts of a whole. Turned against one another, they were less effective. After days – weeks – Ozai was thrown off by the lack of blade in his free hand. Ursa recognized this, concentrating her attacks on his left side, vicious, all the rage bleeding through her blows.

She risked tiring herself if she fought like this. Her arms trembled with the effort, and Ozai broke through her defences with sheer strength, watching as she winced every time she had to block a direct blow. Ever pragmatic, however, she shifted into a more defensive stance again, letting him do most of the work, dancing around on nimble feet.

He would not let her escape. The two blades clashed together, grinding, throwing sparks onto both their faces. Ursa was gritting her teeth, painfully beautiful; he felt her strength waning.

All of a sudden, the pressure was gone. Too late he saw through her ruse, a vicious kick to his legs and a blow to his stomach tipping him off balance, the momentum of his own attack propelling him forward. Ozai came crashing down on the ground.

Clever. Too clever to let her guard down, even now.

Ozai flashed her a smile, all teeth, and then sprung back up, this time giving her no chance to resort to dishonourable tricks. With one forceful blow, he knocked the sword from her hand and then snatched it up, twisting her around and crisscrossing the blades around her pale neck.

“Do you yield, Ursa?” he asked, pleasantly.

She was trapped, wholly and completely, between the wall of his chest and her own swords. He could see irritation flashing in her amber eyes, face reddened from exertion, the air leaving her lungs in quickened breaths.

Long years have passed since he last held her like this. A sense of honour kept him loyal to this woman, despite her continuous impertinence, even outward treason. He could have taken another wife, a lover, to keep him company; he didn’t. With Ursa so close, he felt the stirring of an old hunger coursing through his veins.

“You enjoy this,” Ursa said.

“As do you,” Ozai said.

Ursa hummed. “I am about to enjoy this more.”

She came up fighting, this time with fire instead of crude weaponry. The heat scorched his skin, flames licking the blades. Ozai bared his teeth and pressed onward. On a shorter distance, she would not be able to execute her moves properly. Aware of this, Ursa leapt away from him, fire dancing in her outstretched hands.

He was risking much, unused to evading flames. Humiliation was the price he had to pay, however. Ursa would extract it, merciless, unafraid; he supposed he owed her that much.

[corellianangel]

Fan Review: Solo: A Star Wars Story

May contain minor/some spoilers after the cut.

I suspect that Solo: A Star Wars Story might be a bit like its title character. A bit rough at the start, maybe shady, pretty good-looking, and definitely out to get your money. But, as it goes on, it becomes more and more apparent how good and truly nostalgic and lovable it is.

This is a film that “nobody wanted.” Which means...what? I wanted it. When I saw Star Wars ANH, I wanted to know all about that cool Solo guy. And finally, 41 years later, I got my wish. And yeah… I’m mostly happy. After Last Jedi, I was pretty much done with the franchise, so it’s not like I went in with high hopes.

Solo is a relatively low stakes reprieve from the “we must save the world/galaxy/universe” all-or-nothing epic trope that has plagued us for the last few years. This is an adventure, a coming of age, and a western heist. Stakes are high, but only for the characters you are relating with onscreen, making it a curious addition to this year’s blockbusters.

Make no mistake; This is a love-letter to original trilogy Star Wars fans. It’s Han Solo in an Indiana Jones style adventure ( and what could be more fun than that).

4 out of 5 stars.

The first minute of Solo is exactly how a movie about the titular character should begin. But then it immediately lags, then even more so under ill-paced exposition. As soon Han goes solo though, it gains momentum. Then a short few minutes later as Woody Harrelson appears, things get rolling outright.

Alden Ehrenreich takes a bit of time to slide into Han’s scuffed boots, both onscreen and in our fan hearts. But when he does, it works wonderfully. He’s not the sexy gruff cynic Harrison Ford portrayed. No, he’s a “Kid,” who's got dreams. He’s a romantic. He’s wide-eyed, immature, and even petulant at times. But like Harrison’s portrayal, he’s arrogant, talented, goofy, jealous, easily embarrassed and will gladly spin a terrible lie. And oh yes… he can turn it on. Not at first, no… that’s really awkward ( more on that with Emilia). He’s not Harrison Ford by a long shot, but when given the chance later in the film, he makes a scene his own, and it’s HOT.

Unfortunately though, Alden is easily five inches shorter than 6’ 1” Harrison. And it’s glaringly obvious (especially to me, as I am quite a tall person). Sadly, Alden’s 1” platform 2”+ heel boots can only add so much. Otherwise, I’m satisfied with his portrayal. Alden’s a great actor, he had huge boots to fill, and I think he’s really been treated unfairly by the fans. Give the kid a chance, he might win you over.

Donald Glover IS Lando Calrissian though.  He’s sexy, sauve and even a bit silly ( in all the right ways… make no mistake).  I daresay Mr.Glover has taken Billy Dee William’s place in my heart as the epitome of Lando. Whether he’s coming on to Han, or Qi’ra or some unspecified alien species, he’s a pansexual on the level of Oberyn Martell from Game of Thrones. An arrogant playboy badass, who loves all the finest things. He is willing to enjoy everything life has to offer, and why not? It’s hard not to love him as a result. Lando movie, anyone?

Tobias Beckett is everything Han wants to be. Beckett is also in love with fellow crook Val, and his attachment to her is cemented firmly in a couple of scenes, which unlike the Han/Qi’ra scenes–have great chemistry. And Woody Harrelson’s portrayal of yet another grizzled mentor is stunning. I found him much more appealing than Harrelson’s equivalent character from Hunger Games. Though the mantel is starting to wear. Don’t get me wrong. I adore Woody Harrelson. His being in this film gave me a reason to think I might just like it. I’m just not sure I want to see him as yet another badass mentor after this.

When Thandie Newton appeared in Beloved back in 1998, I was an instant fan. I’d seen her before in a few other flicks, but she blew that one out of the water as the title character. Since then she had worked steadily in a number of critically acclaimed roles. I was absolutely thrilled to see her in this as Val. And utterly heartbroken that she was totally underused. When Val is onscreen, she overshadows everyone else, even Beckett. It’s a shame we don’t see more of her than we do. Boo!

Emilia Clarke as Qi’ra…Hmm.  She’s cute, charming, and tries her hand at swordplay here. But honestly, the Queen of Dragons is a poor fit. The original casting call was for anything other than yet another white brunette. And with amazing ladies like Tessa Thompson in the running, why oh why did we end up with Emilia? If not racism (God, I hope not); Ang’s answer: Think $$$, from Game of Thrones fans in theatre seats. I can think of no other reason. Her chemistry with Alden is tepid at best ( and any of that comes much, much later). I feel bad for Emilia here. I think she was miscast, and that tarnish will always stay with the fans. ( P.s. : the three adult heterosexual males I watched the movie with, were over-the-moon smitten with her. To each his own. I guess…)

On to the non-humans...

Joonas Suotamo as Chewbacca is physically brilliant. He’s stolen my heart as Chewie from the lovely Peter Mayhew (sorry Pete) over the last three movies. But honestly, we discover nothing new about Chewbacca in this. Zero. It’s rather unfortunate. I wish I could say more. But we learn more about Chewie in episode three than this. A missed opportunity. Sorry Chewie. For some reason Disney put your character in the doghouse here.

L3-37 is another definite weak spot in Solo. We have a snarky female droid (yay!) as a droid-rights advocate (cool!).  But it’s so completely overwrought. Only Lando’s constant eye rolls save this character from being as ridiculous as Jar Jar Binks. Which is another shame, because I felt she fills in the current canon equivalent of Lando’s copilot droid Vuffi Raa, from the EU/Legends novels from waaay back in the 1980’s, (interestingly they are both pilots, are both self-aware droids and have vaguely parallel fates) Some editing issues arise as far as L3′s character is concerned too. She’ll be leaning, casually watching,  while droids are being slaughtered in front of her, but only interferes with other robots later in the same scene? Why?? Were the first dead droids not good enough for her to save? It’s inconsistent, poor editing; and that really hurts the character. Sorry Phoebe Waller-Bridge, you did great job with what you had. I’m not sure that the script/editing was as good as you deserved.

The spaceship the Millennium Falcon is 100% a full character in this too. Without giving too much away, she represents her pilots as they sit at the helm. She’s treated with more respect - reverence even -  in this, than any other film. And I can say this is her movie as much as it is Han’s. Millennium Falcon fans, you are in for a treat!

And the bad guys...or one guy anyways....

Paul Bettany is chilling and utterly convincing as the gangster Dryden Vos. He also has much better chemistry with Qi’ra than Han.  I’m fairly certain this is mainly due to Paul’s astonishing acting ability.  He first came to my attention as the title character in the darkly funny UK crime film Gangster No.1. I was floored by him then and he’s still blowing me away, even as the rather challenging character Vision in the MCU. Bettany does not disappoint in Solo either. He took over this role with zero preparation, with the weight of replacing another respected actor at the last minute in an extremely troubled production. And the optics of having a white European actor taking over from an African-american are...ermm...not the best. He pulls it off, though. But I can’t help but wonder what Michael K Williams would have brought to the role. Vos is a soulless psychopath under Bettany, not unlike his character in Gangster No.1.  Would Williams have brought the tragic–almost romantic deep spirit and inner strength he brought to his gangster Chalky White in Boardwalk Empire to Vos instead? It’s rather sad we will never know.

I don’t think I can say much else about the other antagonist(s) without spoiling a bunch. But let’s just say...wow! Well done! Surprises and fan service all around!

There is something missing here too. We never see Han as an imperial pilot. Nor the promised Shakespeare-inspired comedic comic book characters that Ron Howard teased last fall.  These gems may be reserved for DVD releases, but I feel Han’s missing academy stint is definitely a gap in this story. And the movie lacks because of it.

Importantly, I do recommend seeing this in IMAX 2D as it is a very dark and muted film.

The usual amazing, special effects, costumes and sets we’ve come to expect from the Star Wars film franchise are all present here.  The styling is different from the previous films, as it takes place about halfway between Episode Three and Rogue One.  It’s neat to see the evolution of the Empire’s gear. 

And the easter eggs are everywhere; prequels, Rebels, Clone Wars, Star Tours ( the Disney Park ride), the comic books from the 1970′s and 80′s, the EU/Legends Han Solo novels by Brian Daley, the Lando Calrissian novels from the same era are especially referenced numerous times. Even the Indiana Jones franchise gets a significantly placed nod.

To say the least, the fan-service is strong with this one.

But not the Force. Not at all. None of that simple tricks and nonsense here at all.

Because I’m a pretty hard-core fan, I pre-bought two showings on initial release. The first time I saw Solo, I was unsure if I actually liked it, but it seemed to be a decent film.  The second viewing ( the same night) was an absolute joy. Times three and four were with different groups of adults, and they all had a blast. Five was with a group of 13 year old girls, and they all enjoyed it too.

So let’s call my rating of Solo then, 4 out of 5 stars. 

Honestly I don’t get the backlash against it.  Don’t take your Last Jedi hate out on this. It’s a fun ride with decent jokes and no space-boob-milk monsters—honest!

And if you think Solo offers nothing different, new, or imaginative. You are 99% correct...Remember, we got that full package of “different and innovative” in Last Jedi. If that’s your schtick, watch that one instead then.

Oh, and one more thing- that 1%?... two words:

Shower scene.

[missmungoe]

SHANTIES; REFRAIN // Shanks x Makino // I felt like writing sparring fic, so I wrote sparring fic. An addition to part 2 of Scylla, my pirate!Makino AU.

Modelled after their last, the new ship didn’t demand many changes to her daily routines, but for a creature of habit, even the smallest changes require some readjustment, and so it took time, getting properly acquainted with her new home.

Dark mahogany bleeding red when the sun caught in it, the veneer still fresh, she had few scars to speak of, the pale filigree of salt on the hull her only mark yet, given by a sea that seemed curiously reverent in its attentions; not a gentle lover by any means, but a doting one.

She sat on the waves differently than their old ship – with more ease, Shanks said, no old planks weary from sailing and long, hard years. And there was a spirit in the soul of her; a heart that saw challenge in traitorous straits, and that welcomed shifting currents with near-eager anticipation. Lithe and reckless, she cut the waves with serpentine grace, cresting the very largest with an impression of taking flight – a fitting illusion, the dragon figurehead arching with regal dignity, and just enough dramatic flair to suit her captain.

It took a little time, learning to know her; a little effort, to familiarise herself with her shape, and her temper. But as for loving her, it took no effort, Makino discovered – and no time at all.

There were other changes, too – their new quarters were bigger, although between the two of them they’d never needed much, but she appreciated the extra space, for the books that ten years had seen accumulate. And they got a bigger bunk, although it made no difference to Shanks, who claimed most of that, too – and her. And in that, at least, little had changed in ten years.

She woke before the sun, roused by habit. Once it had been necessary, when she’d had a bar to run, but necessity had long since eased into personal preference. She loved the atmosphere of the ship first thing in the morning, the new as much as their old; that pause for breath just before its heart stirred into waking, and the familiar pulse of noise and laughter drummed through the planks.

The naked body wrapped around her was warm and heavy with sleep, and the soft snores muffled against the crook of her neck tempted her to remain – to forget about her small routines, and let sleep lure her back. She did that, sometimes – spent an extra hour watching him sleep, too comfortable to be bothered with doing anything else. It was a pirate’s freedom, Makino supposed, to be allowed that leisure, if she so pleased. And no matter how many small things remained of the barmaid, ten years had long since made a pirate of her.

Her languid stretch saw him stirring, and a kiss against his shoulder marked her intention before she tried to shimmy out of his grip, but he just tightened his arm around her and rolled her over, tucking her against the wall as she muffled her laughter against his chest. “Shanks.”

A grunt was her answer, and she huffed, kissing until he yielded his grip enough for her to slip away, and she evaded the fingers reaching for her, laughter trailing soft and drowsy in her wake as she made to dress.

In answer – or cheeky retaliation; with him it could be either of the two – Shanks rolled over on his back, the whole bunk commandeered and the sheets kicked off, and she shook her head at the display as she made for the door, a murmur of grown man tucked under her breath that had him sticking his tongue out.

The morning was touched with a chill, a cold dampness in the air that promised rain, but she welcomed it with a deep breath as she stepped out of their cabin and onto the main deck.

As expected, the ship was quiet, and Makino greeted it with her own, fingers dancing along the railing as she made her way to the quarterdeck, feet bare on the planks and her sword in hand. She liked to do her morning stretches before breakfast, and the little exercises she’d worked into her daily routine, out under the open sky. By the time she was done, Ben would be up, and the promise of coffee put a skip in her step.

It didn’t take long to loosen the knots from her muscles – small aches that required only a little prodding before they yielded, easing with her stretches into a kinder ache, driven deep with her breaths. And it was easy to lose herself to the familiar movements, and the sea – a sharp cut of salt and cold in the air, and the vast weight of it beyond her mind, anchoring her senses where it stretched toward the horizon.

She lost track of how long she kept it up, but the sun had yet to rise when she caught the sound of a door opening, somewhere across the deck.

She felt him approaching, and turned, surprise making her brows lift, along with a smile, and she didn't bother trying to hide either as Shanks stepped onto the quarterdeck.

“You’re out of bed,” Makino blurted. She’d let her stance slip completely, stretches forgotten. “The sun isn’t even up yet.”

He was quick, stealing a kiss against her shoulder, the slip of skin bared by her shirt, and there was still the telling roughness of sleep in his voice when he rumbled, “You are.”

She tilted her head, feeling the tuck of his nose beneath her ear, and the grin that followed. He seemed cheerfully undaunted by the fact that she was covered in sweat. “That doesn’t usually stop you from sleeping in,” she pointed out.

“Maybe I felt like shaking things up,” Shanks countered, drawing back to look at her. “But speaking of uncharacteristic behaviour, you slept in just yesterday. Three whole hours, might I add.” He lifted his brows. “I thought you were sick.”

Like the look he gave her, the words were innocent, but his smile told her he knew exactly what had kept her in bed so long, and Makino poked him in the stomach. “I allow myself the occasional indulgence,” she said. Then, chin tilted cheekily, “And slip in judgement.”

“Oh, is that what I am?” Shanks mused. “Slip in judgement, huh? You know, your pet names could use some work. And for the record, you could do with sleeping in a little more often. It’s good for the soul.” He grinned, and chirped, “And for me. You know I miss you when you’re gone.”

“Hmm. I don’t know if I believe that, given that you take the chance to sleep spread-eagled.” At the wolfish smile that chased across his face, she added primly, “And at least one of us should be awake to make sure the ship stays afloat.”

“But that’s what we have Ben for,” Shanks told her patiently, and with only a hint of familiar glibness. “Although with how much you spoil him, he’s slacking off more and more. Then again, it might just be old age getting to him.” He frowned, as though in contemplation. “I can never be sure.”

It was her turn to stick her tongue out, and she reached to pinch his side, but he’d stepped out of her reach before she could, catching her hand to tug her close, and startling a laugh from her as she caught herself against him.

“So what about it, my early bird? A duel before breakfast?” he asked, that bright gleam of laughter in his eyes, now cleared of sleep.

Makino cocked her head, then said, slightly marvelling, “Married almost ten years, and I can never tell if you’re in earnest, or if you’re being suggestive.”

Shanks only grinned. “I’d be disappointed if you could. Or I’d have to up my game, at least.”

“As if you need an excuse for that,” she countered smoothly, and saw from the quality his smile took on, that he had a mind to prove her right.

But intentional ambiguity notwithstanding, she proffered Siren, the hilt resting in the cradle of her palm, and watched his grin widen as she tilted the tip at an almost lazy angle. Silver and sea-glass, the grey morning light softened the engravings on the blade, the waves bleeding into the steel, fogging with the chill from the sea.

His hand touched the pommel of his sword, and Makino was moving before she’d drawn her next breath, their blades meeting when it rushed out of her, and his laughter following at its heels, to brighten the morning with sound.

“Wasting no time,” Shanks marvelled, side-stepping her with far too much ease, even as he added, “I feel I should remind you that I’m not a young man anymore.”

“You seem to have no trouble drawing your sword,” Makino countered, advancing again, feet quick across the planks and her breath steady in her chest, but her smile betrayed her attempted coyness.

Shanks raised his brows, grin delighted and shameless. “Now who’s being suggestive?”

The look she shot him earned her a laugh, and when he moved towards her it was to steal a kiss, which Makino deflected by giving his hip a whack with the flat side of her blade. Predictably, that only had him laughing harder, and redouble his efforts, and she was suddenly hard pressed to decide if he was trying to best her, or to get that kiss.

Her breath rushed out of her in a laugh as she danced around him, steps sure-footed and sea legs steady after ten years, and his delight in both demonstrated in the way he retaliated, seeking to catch her off guard, and making no point to hide it.

She always enjoyed sparring with him. Ever since those first, stumbling sessions where she hadn’t even been able to hold her practice sword right, they’d developed an ease, practice making perfect, and showing in little things – knowledge of weaknesses, and strengths; where to apply pressure, and where to yield. She was familiar with his tells, and knew he could pick out hers with his eyes closed, and it was an awareness that matched them well together in training, a near-practised dance, even if her skill wasn’t a match for his in a real fight.

But he’d never treated her as inferior for it – had only been endlessly patient (and just a little bit insufferable), and had greeted all the hurdles in her path along with her, allowing her time to grow, and to hesitate, but never humouring her. He’d taken her teaching seriously, and his efforts had paid off. Ten years had seen her become more than proficient, and a formidable opponent, in the right setting. She didn’t have a thirst for battle, or a competitive nature, but sparring was different. And with Shanks…

She was vaguely aware that they were attracting a growing audience, despite the early hour, and once she might have felt self-conscious at the attention, but ten years had seen to that, too – had wrought familiarity from shyness, and into something that felt curiously like ease.

She caught the amused murmurs from across the deck – thoughts on form, and bets making it into Ben’s ledgers, and the occasional holler for Makino to give as good as she got, and to stop favouring her right side – but didn’t let it tempt her focus away from the man in front of her.

And anyway, it was distracting enough, watching Shanks – in his element, with that grin on his face. A unique grace of hard, controlled movements, and she’d never seen anyone who fought like he did. When they’d first met she’d had him pegged as a reckless fighter, an assumption based on nothing but his personality, but she’d soon come to realise that the opposite was the case. He was fiercely strategic, even more so in the heat of battle, and risky gambles were only made with an unshakeable surety of what would follow.

Of course, he was prone to the occasional, exaggerated flourish, but only if he thought he could get away with it. Or if he’d had too much to drink. One usually followed the other.

But it wasn’t hard to see how he’d received his reputation as one of the greatest swordsmen in the world. And she didn’t know what he’d been like before he’d lost his sword arm, but watching him now, it seemed an entirely inconsequential thing – the people they’d been once.

Her shirt clung to her back now, but the strain she felt was a good sort, and she was grateful for her earlier efforts – she always lasted longer if she’d warmed up first.

Shanks didn’t seem to be having trouble, despite the fact that he’d rolled straight out of bed, but Makino knew he’d be regretting it later. And lamenting it. Loudly.

She let her smile sit, carefully innocent on her mouth. “How are you holding up, old man?”

He drew back at that, a laughing splutter pulling free of him, to fill the space he’d put between them. “Old man? God, that’s a low blow. And you didn’t even use your sword. I don’t know if I should give you points for creativity or cruelty.”

“She’s just telling it like it is, Boss!” came the shout, followed my several voices rising in cheerful agreement, one of which sounded distinctly like go for the knees, Ma-chan!, and Shanks angled his sword in the direction of the speakers, a crude gesture accompanying it.

“This old man is holding up just fine,” he muttered, sounding almost convincingly put-off, before he moved towards her, barely giving her time to react, and Makino had a mind to wonder if the demonstration wasn’t meant to underline his rebuttal.

But she knew that move, and stepped aside with ease, slipping under the arm that sought to trap her, and driving her elbow into his ribs, shoving a breath past his teeth, along with a laugh.

Drawing back, “You’re fighting dirty today,” he told her, delighted grin ruining any attempt at convincing reproach. And she knew that smile, too – and what it usually heralded. And his voice was a low purr when he added, “I’m tempted to suggest we take this duel to the bedroom.”

Makino huffed a laugh. “Stop trying to distract me!”

“Who, me? I wouldn’t dream of it. If I was, I’d take off my shirt.”

“Keep your pants on, at least.”

“Why, my girl, is that a challenge?”

Their blades met – Siren sang, and Makino felt a muscle in her arm cramping against the strain. She was smaller, quicker, but even with one arm, he had her vastly beat in raw strength.

“You still put too much weight on your right leg,” Shanks told her, when he shoved her back, before smoothly parrying her next strike, and she ducked out of the way to avoid his counter.

Her hair was escaping her braid, the damp strands clinging to her cheeks a small distraction. She was thoroughly soaked through with sweat now. “You still talk too much when you spar,” she huffed.

“You say that like it’s restricted to sparring,” Shanks offered back breezily. “Which you know it isn’t. I talk in my sleep.” Parry, strike, parry, and the gleam of his eyes finding her before his next remark did, a wholly knowing thing. “I talk during sex.”

She stumbled a step, cheeks flushing despite her better efforts, and despite the fact that she’d known it was coming. And his grin widened, before he moved, quicker than she could keep up, a single step eating up the distance between them until he’d put himself flush against her, his sword angled, pommel-out to tip her backwards and off kilter.

The opportunity found her between breaths, and she’d seized it before she’d even had time to consider it fully.

She let him tip her off balance, and feigned a drop, watching as he righted himself, pleased at the familiar victory. But before he could recover, or even react, she’d twisted, leg sweeping in a sharp, decisive arc across the planks, knocking his feet out–

– and sending Shanks sprawling on his ass.

There was a moment of absolute quiet – a full second of complete, stunned silence where no one spoke, and where all he did was lay there.

Having pushed to her feet, Makino looked down at him, flat on his back and wearing an expression of such earnest surprise, if she’d even for a second considered the thought that he’d allowed her take him down, it didn’t last longer than that, banished by the look on his face.

And then she was laughing. “Ten years!” Makino exclaimed, voice sounding nearly shrill where it bounced off the quiet. “Ten years you’ve used that trick on me, and finally!” She shrieked, laughter carrying across the ship, bright with unrestrained delight, “Retribution!”

Her reaction shook loose the silence from its shocked paralysis, and she heard more than one voice raised in support from across the deck, along with a rising chorus of laughter.

Shanks still hadn’t moved. “Did my back give out?” He blinked up at her, his surprise so genuine Makino was tempted to tell him it was the most satisfying thing she’d ever seen. “I’m a little afraid to move.”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic,” she sighed, but her laughter couldn’t be held back, and she felt it as it poured out of her, breathless with a pleasure that made her wonder if she didn’t have a small shred of competitive instinct after all.

A grin lit his face now, pride taking over his expression – a fiercely honest thing that came to settle in the laugh-lines at the corners of his eyes, which looked up at her with unbridled wonderment. It had something warm and pleased filling up her chest, pushing against her ribcage with a flutter.

She held out her hand, and when he took it he was laughing, sword discarded as he lifted himself to his feet, and she wasn’t quick enough when he tugged her close to steal a kiss this time – “I want a rematch,” he told her, voice low and grin wicked against her mouth. “A private one. You’re not the only one who can fight dirty.”

She gave him another whack with her sword, but it did little to remove his grin – or hers. “Restrain yourself for two seconds,” she chided, her laughter softened with familiar fondness.

“Okay. One–”

She proffered her blade, a playful warning, the tip angled at his chin and catching the first, pale shaft of sunlight where it fell over the deck, but Shanks only grinned, eyes still alight with that marvelling pride that had come to sit, deep within them.

“I have one thing I need to do first,” Makino said, and at his raised brow, pursed her mouth with a smile as she turned to the crowd. The ship having come awake, she felt it stirring – the tremor of laughter and footsteps, like blood through the veins of a great beast, shaking off its slumber.

Then across the deck, seeking that amused expression and finding it, along with a whole tableau of shameless grins – “Ben Beckman!” she called, meeting his gaze, and saw the smile that had curved along his mouth, no doubt already anticipating the words about to come out of hers, accompanied with the sweep of her hand, calloused palm open to the still-grey skies–

“Pay up!”

[kn-has-ocs]

anyway I don’t ever expect this blog to EVER get any attention but just in case I think I might as well actually explain who the heck these guys are.

(note: this blog is basically, as the blog description says, just for “ramblings”. I reblog posts that make me think of my OCs to here and add on a few things.)

~

Yan, Kuro, Zhen, and Jing are a group that I’ve dubbed the “Sinosquad” since they’re all from the Sinoquan Empire. ie, from the same world/universe and interact with each other at some point. Yan has two versions to his character though, which I’ve named RPspawn!Yan and AtG!Yan. This is due to..... complicated things; I might explain in a separate post at some point because this is supposed to be short summaries. AtG stands for “Around the Galaxy” which is supposed to be the name of the... world..? that I originally made him in. It’s a sci-fi world. Actually scratch that. It’s set in the Star Wars universe. It’s not an original world; it never was, but AtG encompasses all the linked characters and plotlines I’ve made (and it’s pretty huge).

Yan (full name Yan Wang; Chinese name 王延): eventual emperor of the Sinoquan (ascends the throne at around age 30). I have his entire life story plotted out from birth to “death”/downfall (he goes into stasis instead of dying when he’s around 50-60 so I can pick up his story again 1000 years later :)

Kuro (full name Kuro Honda; 本田黑): Yan’s cousin, who’s more like his brother, and only exists in this role for the RPspawn!Yan.

Zhen (full name Zhen Sumuru; 舒穆鲁真): doesn’t have a consistent backstory/role yet, but is probably heir to ruling a fairly large/important region of the Sinoquan empire. the only consistent thing is that he’s supposed to be Yan’s love interest... eventually..... but that’s very late game and if this were ever a published work then it’d be “spoilers” that they actually end up together.

Jing (full name Jing Du; 都京): ah.... Yan’s “friend” during his teen/ young adult years. the only consistent backstory/role he has is that his mother is influential and he’s at least reasonably wealthy. Lives in the Sinoquan capital.

~

Eli and Sera are dragon-winged people. Product of genetic experiments; born and raised in a research lab/institute.

Eli is the first succesful subject (ie first winged human capable of flight). Actually most of the others died in early childhood, infancy, or didn’t even make it past fetal development.

Sera is the “second-gen” subject; has better/stronger wings than Eli.

They’re not treated like “lab rats”. I’m a STEM field student. I believe in painting an image that scientists are actual human beings, not monsters/robots in lab coats. They were raised in a kind environment by people who care about them, and they expect to be treated with respect by the people in the lab.

~

Jet and Dev weren’t created in the same universe (Jet’s technically a RotG OC) but I often merge the two to intertwine their stories. mostly because they were my first OCs and I was bored and wanted them to interact.

Jet (full name Jet Black): as mentioned, technically a Rise of the Guardians (yes the Dreamworks movie) OC. Pitch Black’s “apprentice”, sort of. (I’ve been trying to remove him from being dependant on RotG, in which case Pitch is known as Piceous instead). Has fire powers and mirrors/foils Jack Frost in many ways. Complicated backstory about the fire powers; it’s there but not gonna elaborate in this post (maybe some other time).

Dev (full name Dev Xavishk, or Xandevishk): a.... demon? devil? technically from a world where those things mean something slightly different from conventional definitions. Hell itself in this world is completely different from what it’s usually known as, with the only similarities being that it’s “underground” (sort of) and fiery/hot. There’s a bunch of incomplete lore on his world that I never quite finished up. Anyway, usually I have his role as some sort of government agent sort of guy, but he’s quite young on his first mission (~18?).

Jet and Dev are my two oldest “true” OCs (all previous ones being self-inserts of some sort, from when I had very little experience with or concept of “fandom” and just imagined stuff for fun).

~

Koris: independant OC from some generic fantasy world. has ice powers and lives in a mountain in a mansion by himself because, despite having nobles as parents, they were jerks who treated their servants poorly so after his parents died from illness the servants ended up ditching the place. He is very lonely actually please give him friens

~

Sierka: independant OC set in modern world with some superhuman elements. Sierka has life-drain abilities. story aspects are kind of shaky but they probably end up living by themself at a fairly young age, involving themself in crime and manipulating their way through threats. Except it’s just to extort money from crime lords. Basically the only thing keeping this dude from mass murder is their own conscience.

~

Sian (full name Sianyte Weil [pronounced as German, or just Vel]): I have forgotten this dude in previous group posts. Oops. I’ll try to remember them from now on.... anyway they have invisibility powers and also anxiety haha. The extent of their powers is that they can turn things that they’re “wearing” or are “on” them invisible. It has to be done consciously and it takes a lot more effort to turn something that they’re just holding invisible but it’s still possible. Probably set in modern “superhero” genre worlds. Works for whatever groups will pay them, usually for spying missions. His abilities only work when he’s silent (ie not speaking) though, and automatically stops working if he talks.

They also sort of have flying abilities to the extent that, one, they only work when he’s invisible, and two, he can only control vertical movement up and down. He can use any lateral momentum from pushing against solid things but can’t freely propel himself laterally.

Yeah I know his abilities are really weirdly specific; idk why either; don’t question it :\

~

anyway that’s about it. I should probably also make a post for their appearances (with images for the OCs that have ref images....)

I have plenty of fandom OCs, but I don’t usually mention them.... (I don’t count Jet as a fandom OC for some reason...)

Well, hmm, here’s a bonus. Klashta Neali: the OC that shares a name with my first pseudonym/alias. I can’t remember which came first: did I make the alias for myself, then later made the OC and lazily gave it that name, or did I first make it as an OC, and then lazily started using the name as an alias? I dunno. Either way, my using the name as a pseudonym is completely unrelated to the OC...

Klashta “Kayin” Neali: Star Wars OC with a long detailed backstory. Was Darth Vader’s apprentice at some point, in a situation very similar to Galen Marek, but then got ditched around mid-to-early teen age.... I had a very detailed timeline written, but that was a long time ago; I can’t remember now. Was a bounty hunter for the next stage of her life. Then eventually she just?? goes into exile???? there was something about finding Revan’s teachings and meditating a lot; idk it gets kind of random.

~

ok that’s it enough rambling while pretending I have an audience since that’s all this is (me talking about my OCs pretending I have an audience instead of just writing notes for myself since I know everything already)