#taking the train between my city and the capital every day going to my creative industry job in the pretty house by the river

[mihai-florescu]

How many weeks into a job would it be appropriate to start wearing my wataei itabag to the office?

[purplesauris]

The Heart Wants

"I want you to meet my family."

Din wants to show Luke off to his family- whether that be his found family or anyone else.

Read it on AO3 here!

“I want you to meet my family.” Din watches him, beskar helmet reflecting the sunset from the window as he leans back in his chair.

Luke’s hands still in the air, Grogu floating above him, and he looks toward Din. “Pardon?”

A trickle of discomfort curls around Luke’s throat, a soft wispy thing, and he lowers Grogu from the air, ignoring the disappointed coo the child lets out as Din’s shoulders slump. He instead draws one of Grogu’s toys closer, making it dance through the air to keep him occupied as Din clears his throat. “If you want. They’ve asked to meet you when I go out next.”

“They’ve asked for me?” Luke doesn’t want to seem overly eager, but judging by the way Din’s head turns just slightly, unable to look at him, he’s blushing inside his helmet. “You talk about me.”

“You’re training my son.” Din croaks, as if that’s excuse enough. 

“We’re dating.” Luke can’t help the grin that spreads over his face, laughing when Din shuffles in his seat and mumbles something uncouth under his breath. It’s enough for the modulator to pick up, but not enough to be heard clearly, so it sounds like static cracking through. “When were you thinking?” Luke says instead, giving Din a way out of his flustered revelation. 

“When it’s better to bring Grogu along.” 

Luke’s mind whirls immediately at the thought, and he glances down at the small green child tucked in his lap. Words bubble up from him before he can trap them behind his teeth, shove them back down, and Luke’s gaze is firmly locked on the toy he sends sailing through the air in wilder and wilder loops and spins. 

“I can bring him to my sister, she’s- like me, and will know how to care for him.” 

“On Coruscant? The capital of the Galaxy?” Luke winces at the way that sounds, but something niggles at the back of his mind, and he squints in Din’s direction.

“How do you know where she is?”

Now it’s Din’s turn to wince, though the subtle shift of his body is much less noticeable than Luke’s; only caught because Luke knows every dip and stretch of muscle. 

“I keep track.” Din mutters, as if just admitting that is something wrong, ugly. Luke finds it frustratingly endearing, the level of awareness that Din has for everything and everyone; it only lends to the fact that Din’s strength lies not just in his fighting skills, but in the simple fact that Din is smart. 

He’s devilishly clever, wildly pragmatic when he needs to be and endlessly creative. Every time that Luke thinks he finds him, truly sees him another layer is pulled back, revealing more and more of the man beneath the armor. Of the clever, kind man whose spirit called to him in the moments between their words. 

“I know it’s not ideal, but…” Luke glances over at him, willing him to understand without Luke having to continue, and to Luke’s continued delight Din dips his head- finishing Luke’s thought. 

“I trust you, Luke. Not sure I do her, but if she’s like you…” 

“Ah, she’s better, actually. Much more adjusted.” Din huffs a laugh, metallic and low, and Luke revels in the sound and faint feeling of warmth wafting off of Din. “If we have her babysit, when were you thinking? Next supply run?”

“Mmm. Probably." 

Luke purses his lips, thinking about how far Leia is from him, and even with him flying solo it’s going to be a tight turn around if they want to be on time.

“Okay. I’ll have to leave a couple days early, to get him there and get back.”

“Alone?” Curious, Din sits forward in his chair, as if the thought of being left behind is a novel idea. 

“It’ll be easier for me to get in and out of the city without a big scary Mando following me around.” Din snorts at that, but judging by the way that he sits back he has no argument. Not yet, at least. Luke can practically hear the gears grinding in Din’s head, turning his words over and over to examine every bump and crack. “The x-wing only fits one anyhow.”

“You’ll meet me back here?”

“Of course. After all, I want to fly the Crest too.” His grin answers Din’s groan, and he feels a thrill go down his spine when Din doesn't automatically tell him no. He might not get to this time, but he's a patient man, and with enough convincing Din will let him do almost anything. 

Almost.

"Tell me about her?" 

Luke leans back on his hands, letting the toy drop and nodding at Grogu. Grogu grumbles unhappily, but the toy begins a shaky maneuver into the air, Grogu's little hands raising while Luke begins to talk. "Her name is Leia, but you knew that already. She's a senator for the new republic."

"What's she like?"

"She's brave, smart as a tack. Doesn't take shit from anyone." Luke's eyes burn, and he presses a hand to his forehead, stupidly emotional. "I didn't know her when I was a child- I grew up on Tatooine while she grew up a princess on Alderaan. We met during the Rebellion: she was a prisoner on the death star and Han and I rescued her."

"Han?"

"Solo. Her husband. He was a smuggler I hired who kind of got sucked into helping the rebellion."

Talking about the rebellion always made something slimy and panicked crawl through his veins, but if there was one thing he'd mastered long ago it was pushing those feelings back. His meditation had helped, the little training he had with Yoda had helped, and most days, alone with Din or Grogu or Artoo, he could breathe. But there were moments of silence, of stillness when Luke's right arm ached and all that he'd done came crawling back to the surface. When he laid in bed, Din asleep beside him, and wished he were anyone else. The thoughts drag at him like an anchor against the sandy bottom of the ocean, and Luke finds himself set adrift, the room around him fading in and out of focus. 

This is not the time to be doing so. 

Luke tries, really he does, to draw himself back in, to crawl from the ugly sprawling thoughts in his mind, but he hears a low scraping sound that’s so much like metal debris against the side of his x wing that he flinches. There’s a rattle to his left, the dropping of something heavy, and then a weight settles against his back, tucking into the crook of his neck and gripping around him. 

Luke’s first instinct is to shove away from it, to fight his way out, but soft fingers catch at the edge of his shirt, smoothing along his abdomen, and Luke releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding. The touch is hesitant at first, as if afraid, but when Luke doesn’t do anything past dragging in low, shuddering breaths it grows bolder. If he were here, truly focused, he’d make a joke, something to diffuse the situation, but instead he shakes as a palm slides under his shirt and presses flat over his chest, nestled above his heart. Luke focuses on the pulse he senses in the man’s palms instead of his own, the warmth of skin on skin contact. 

Badum. Badum. Badum.

Slow and even- calm in the midst of a storm. Luke tilts his head back, gasping in a breath, and metal digs into the back of his head, cold and hard. A pauldron. Luke recognises the ridged edge to it, recognizes the soft scrape of facial hair against his neck when Din presses closer, breaths light and hand held to Luke’s chest. 

“Take a breath. Hold it.” Luke follows the command on instinct alone, chest expanding under hand and stopping, full to bursting until Din’s voice, soft and so unlike his visage, speaks again. “Release. Slowly.”

Luke follows that instruction to the letter, letting the air seep from his lips until he feels empty, hollowed out and aching to take a breath. Din works him through ten more breaths, until he’s breathing without waiting for Din’s quiet command and his hand finds Din’s, clutching at his fingers in an effort to keep himself grounded. 

“I’m sorry.” He chokes out, grief rising in his throat like a beast ready to kill, and Din’s voice vibrates across his back from where Luke is pressed back into his arms. 

“I know.” Somehow, his simple acknowledgement, his acceptance, is what breaks Luke. He feels a sob clatter out of him, low and weak, and Din’s head turns, forehead pressing against Luke’s temple. Din holds him tight and Luke allows himself to be held, shaking and weak, until his tears and his panic finally ebb, drawn back into the little box he keeps under such careful lock and key. In his lap Grogu’s big brown eyes are shiny with tears, and when Luke turns his head, bumping his forehead against Din’s he finds his mandalorian in a similar state. 

“I’m sorry.” Luke says again, because he doesn’t know what else to say, and Din’s free hand comes up, dashing away the wetness that clings to Din’s lashes like morning dew. Din doesn’t stop at himself, thumb wiping at the trails on Luke’s cheeks before drawing Grogu up. Luke’s hands come up to steady the child against his chest as Grogu’s little head tucks under his chin, and Luke leans heavily back against Din’s chest. 

They sit there for a while, breathing and holding each other close until Grogu’s breaths even out and his snores kick up, Luke only half fighting the heaviness in his own eyelids. It seems easier to fall asleep than address this fragile, marred thing, but Din always seems to be one step ahead of him, hand slipping from his chest as both arms move to rest around Luke’s middle instead, a warm cage that Luke doesn’t want to leave. 

“Sleep, Luke. You don’t get nearly enough. Let me watch over you.” Luke wants to point out that they’re in the middle of the living room, but Din’s chest rumbles against his back as he makes a soft noise, nosing at his cheek and placing a soft, reverent kiss to the curved edge of Luke’s jaw. Luke allows himself to drift off in Din’s arms, sinking into the darkness behind his eyelids without a fight. 

Luke wakes up in bed screaming.

He looks around, eyes wild, trying to find the source of the agony coursing through him, but there isn't any. Luke sucks in two harsh breaths, fighting against the instinctive panic, and he looks down at his right hand, fingers twitching madly and whole arm quaking. When he tries to move his arm another razor edged wave of feeling scrapes along his nerves, and he bites back another scream. “Fuck-”

“Here.” Luke’s head snaps up toward the doorway as Din’s lithe form slips through, walking with measured steps until he sinks down onto the edge of the bed by Luke’s hip. He reaches out, hands gentle as he takes Luke’s hand in his. Even that movement is too much, too rough, but Din thumbs at the line where his wrist connects, edging along the hard line of the cybernetics underneath the skin. Din almost seems to be searching for something, and Luke wants to ask him what, but Din’s thumb digs in suddenly and Luke feels a pop in his wrist. Sensation shorts out of his arm immediately, fingers twitching for a moment before going limp. Luke is able to focus more on his breathing and collecting his thoughts with Din having done… whatever it is he did, and eventually Luke finds his voice. 

“How did you...” 

Din’s eyes flick up toward him, near black in the dim light coming from the hallway, and so filled with warmth that Luke feels like he’s a spark away from going up in flames. 

“You’ve done it before.”

“I know I have, but how did you know to-” Luke’s mouth snaps shut at the realization that he knows the answer to the question. He didn’t realize he’d ever done it in front of Din. He’d spent months tinkering with his hand after the medics on the Redemption had installed it, and he’d installed what some might call a kill switch. It was small, near impossible to trigger unless you knew exactly how and where it was, and Luke had done it out of sheer desperation to have some way to make the pain stop. 

“You've only used it one other time.” Din says, looking down at Luke’s hand and thumb smoothing over his inner wrist. “But you were in pain then too.”

“It bothers me.” Luke expects the shame that comes with talking about his hand, but Din lifts it higher and places a kiss onto the deadened palm. Luke wishes desperately that he could feel it, if only for an instant, but his want is written plain across his body. It has to be, because there’s no other way he can explain away to himself the way that Din gathers his other hand, lips soft and gentle on the palm. Luke presses the fingertips of his good hand into the skin of Din’s cheek, holding him there, and Din’s eyes shut, turning just slightly to bump his nose against the meat of Luke’s thumb and smile against his skin. 

“You don’t have to hide when it does.”

“I have obligations.” Luke protests, sinking away from the casual way that Din reminds him that he’s a man. Just a man, beneath everything. “I can’t just- turn my hand off when it suits me.”

“Are you useless without your right hand?”

“No, but-” 

“Can you still teach, still work your plants and tinker with Artoo?”

“Yes, but-” Luke feels like a moon cracked into jagged pieces, pulled in all directions by the gravity of Din’s eyes, of his careful, thought out words. 

“You are allowed to want to stop hurting.” Luke physically recoils at the words, letting them slam into his chest and bury deep. Luke draws in one breath, then two, then three, trembling in bed as Din holds his hand and presses his face, his skin against Luke’s palm and seems content never to move away. “I want this, Luke. Let me shoulder some of the burden for once.” 

“What if it’s too much?” Luke’s voice is weak, timid, and Din’s expression softens, eyelids drooping and corners of his mouth tugging into a sad, quiet smile. 

“Then I’ll complain. Loudly.” That draws a thick, startled laugh out of Luke, and he watches the way that Din’s smile warms into something fond and affectionate. 

“Promise?” 

“I can start now.” Luke laughs again, disbelieving, and Din chuckles along with him, tilting his head as Luke leans forward, shifting the hand on Din’s cheek so that he can kiss him easier. Din pulls back after a moment, humming softly and brushing his lips against Luke’s more for the sensation than anything else. “I just got Grogu back to sleep. Do I need to sing you to sleep too?”

“I don’t think your singing would have that same affect on me.” 

“I’m pretty good.” Din points out, cracking a smile when Luke pushes against his cheek, choosing instead to flop back against the bed. 

“I would just stay awake to hear it.” Din nods as if that’s a perfectly acceptable answer, and when Luke opens an arm Din doesn’t hesitate to crawl into bed beside him. Luke has always loved that for all of Din’s brute strength and aggressiveness he sleeps curled tight, knees up close to his chest to block anyone from getting at the soft expanse of his belly. It took waking up to knees in his ribs more times than he could count to adjust to the way that Din slept, to coax him into spreading out and taking up space. 

Din does it now without question, hooking a leg up over Luke’s to press it into the space between Luke’s thighs, arm tossed over Luke’s ribs and face tucked against Luke’s neck. The feeling of Din’s breath on his neck, slow and even, is what allows Luke to finally drift off again, Din holding his deadening hand gently.

                                                         -*-

He manages to reorient himself by the time he calls Leia, scrambling and rescrambling the feed to ensure that whoever might have been listening were thrown off. Leia’s face is fuzzy at first, buzzing with her movement, but she’s grinning at the sight of Luke.

“Luke.”

“Hey Lee.” Luke grins when Leia scoffs at the nickname, the same reaction he’s gotten since he first tried it out and decided it was going to stay. "I have a favor to ask you."

"Would that favor involve childcare?" Leia's expression is impassive, but when Luke grimaces, rubbing the back of his neck he sees her crack a smile. "I can hear your intentions from here."

"It would only be a couple days, and you could get to know him!"

"He's your student."

"I know, I know, but it's too dangerous to bring him back to Nevarro and-"

"Why are you going to Nevarro?" Leia's eyes narrow, brow arching when Luke's cheeks flush with color. He very pointedly looks away for a moment, drawing in a couple of deep breaths before Leia's grin turns shark like. "You met someone."

"It's-" Luke goes to say that it's complicated, but Leia's eyes widen comically at something in the background, and Luke turns just in time for Din to dip down, bumping his helmet against Luke's forehead. Luke presses up into the touch, smiling, before remembering himself and pulling back, cheeks positively red now. Din's attention turns to the holo, head tilting just so, and Luke feels the instant that Din realizes what he's done. "Leia, this is my partner, Din. Din, this is my sister, Senator Leia Organa."

"Senator." Din dips his head as a courtesy, and Luke watches as Leia does the same.

"Mand'alor." Luke hears Din groan quietly, too soft for the holo to hear, and he snickers, ignoring the elbow that gets him in his side. Really, by now Din should be used to the title and people's knowledge of who he is, but somehow it comes as a shock to him every time. Leia straightens in her chair, and though nothing has really changed Luke can see the polite mask that falls into place. "If you truly don't have anywhere else, I'll take him." Luke grins, glancing at Din. "But only for three days. I do have obligations here that a child would disrupt." 

Luke nods his head in agreement, pressing his lips together in a miserable attempt to hide his grin. "Right so uh, I'll see you in a couple days?"

"Don't forget anything." Leia warns, Luke laughing. "And Luke? You have questions to answer." 

Leia doesn't let Luke reply before the holo goes dead, and Luke sits back, peering at Din. "Well, that could have gone worse. If you hadn't appeared I expected to lose my hearing."

"Would it have been that bad?"

"She locked me in my room for three days the last time I lied to her." Din pauses, head tilting, and Luke is surprised and delighted when Din laughs, a full bodied sound that makes Luke smirk. 

"I like her more already."

"Good! Because she's going to make us visit sooner or later."

“Make us?”

“You don’t get to say no to Leia.” Luke knows that from experience: sooner or later Leia is going to drag them to Coruscant for something, and it’s only a matter of time. 

Din hums from behind his helmet, reaching out to play with the sleeve of Luke’s robe. “If I tried?”

“She might put a bounty out on you.” Luke deapans, face carefully arranged into a blank expression that breaks when Din shakes his head and shoves at his shoulder. Luke scoops the holo up off of the counter, turning as Din catches his waist, holding him still. Luke raises a brow, lips quirking, and watches with obvious interest as Din reaches back to unlock and slip his helmet off.

Seeing Din's face is just as breathtaking as it was the first time so many months ago, and Luke's heart swells with affection. Din is handsome- not in a drop dead, unrealistic kind of way, but in a softer, grounded way that makes Luke's heart go wild in his chest whenever he gets a peek. Luke is so used to reading the lines of Din's body, of trying not to read him but reading his emotions anyway that when Din's connection opens Luke temporarily goes blind with the feelings that wash over him.

The rush of their connection powers through him, making Luke slap a hand onto the counter as a laugh bubbles up in his throat. Din's amusement, his care and his love sweep through him, leaving him warm and fuzzy, but other feelings worm their way in as well. He can acutely recognize the worry and fear, the anxiety that makes a mess of Din’s thoughts when he thinks of Grogu being so out of his reach. It’s intimate- madly so, and Luke finds himself tipping forward, clanking their foreheads together uncomfortably and reaching to cup the back of Din’s neck. 

“I don’t want you to go.” Din begins, voice choked, and Luke leans in harder, fingers digging into the nape of Din’s neck. “But I know you’ll be safe.”

“I’ll hurry.” Luke whispers, bumping his nose against Din’s and brushing their lips together. Din makes a soft, wounded sound, tilting his head to kiss Luke firm and slow. Luke feels Din’s connection go flimsy, and Luke lets his hold on the other end go, Din’s emotions wrapping back around him like a cloak. It’s easier to handle this way, but Luke craves the connection at the same time. 

Din pulls away, reluctance in every muscle of his body, and Luke hums, leaning back to look him over. Din’s eyes are watery, tears gathering, and Luke loves how expressive Din can’t help but be. Luke bumps their foreheads together one more time before he steps out of Din’s arms, going to get his things and gather up what Leia will need for Grogu’s stay. Once he’s gathered enough toys and things to keep the youngling occupied Luke pads back into the living room, scooping Grogu up into his arms and grinning when little claws tug at his robes. 

“We’re gonna go visit someone special. Can you say bye to your buir?” Luke hears Din give a choked off noise akin to a gasp, and when he turns to Din the other man is staring at him with unabashed surprise. As if he never expected to be called that. 

Grogu coos happily, reaching his little hand out, and Din steps forward, tilting his head down to place a soft kiss on Grogu’s fuzzy head. “Be good, ad’ika, no causing problems.” 

The child tilts his head, as if he’s asking could I ever? and Din gives him an unimpressed look. Luke whistles sharply and Artoo whirls out from the other room, beeping and whistling merrily. “Ready to go, Artoo?” Din walks them to where their ships are nestled close together, the x wing covered in a layer of dust from Din’s takeoffs. Artoo speeds ahead of them, lining himself up and lifting up into his spot. He slots in easily and Luke grins when the x-wing roars to life. The vibrations from the engine pulse through Luke and he feels giddy all over again: he hasn’t flown since Grogu came under his care, and he desperately misses it. 

The cockpit swings up and open with a pneumatic hiss, the ladder sliding down for easier access, and Luke pauses at the bottom, turning back to Din. He looks at him one last time, not because he won’t see him again but purely because he wants to look, and Din’s answering smile is encouraging. Luke realizes with a jolt he’s projecting a little strongly, and he grins sheepishly, dimming himself down despite the way that Grogu giggles at Luke’s infectious eagerness. “Come back safe.”

“Nothing could stop me from coming home.” Luke promises, staring at the way Din’s lips twitch, color flushing the tips of his ears and brown eyes sparkling. It’s so ridiculously attractive that Luke almost stumbles hoisting himself up into the cockpit. It isn’t until Luke has his headset on, Grogu safely in his lap and yolk in his hands that Luke clears his mind. Din’s ship is a little close to his, wings overshadowing Luke’s vessel, but Luke maneuvers himself smoothly away from the Crest and circles into the air, rising higher and higher, leaving Din among the greenery of the planet. 

Grogu stays firmly in Luke’s lap until they break through the atmosphere, but once the sharp nose of the x-wing cuts through and vaults them into space Grogu perks up, crawling to peer out of the cockpit window. “Alright Artoo, next stop Coruscant.” 

Artoo beeps affirmatively through the comms and Luke watches the coordinates flash through his display, Luke turning himself in the right direction and increasing his speed. Grogu squeals in delight at the stars rushing past, and Luke braces Grogu’s little body as they slip into hyperspace, stomach dropping momentarily as his body adjusts to the drag and Grogu’s wide eyes take in the smears of blue and white that scramble past them. 

“You’re gonna love Leia. She’ll spoil the devil out of you, little womp rat.” Grogu turns, crooning, and Luke smiles. “Just for a couple days, then you’ll be back with your buir and I.” 

Luke doesn’t dare call himself a parent, not with what Din and Grogu went through together, not yet, but calling Din Grogu’s father? That feels right, like breathing after breaking the surface of the water, and Luke knows Din has been his father far longer than he ever realized. 

                                                          -*-

Coruscant is as huge and sprawling as he remembers it, stinking of artificial ozone and smog. No one is there to meet him at the landing pad, but Luke is grateful for the chance to slip into the city anonymously. He tucks Grogu a bit deeper into the sling strapped across his chest and pulls his hood up, letting the dark fold of fabric obscure his face and cover the lightsaber hanging at his belt. He won’t need it in the city if he’s lucky, and Luke dives headfirst into the chaos of the city.

The electronics hum around him, sharp and bright, and Luke feels Grogu’s overstimulation rising in him, a surge of panic and anxiety. Luke tries to push some of his hard earned calm onto Grogu, smiling under the hood when Grogu relaxes, gurgling happily and sinking into the sling to nestle against Luke’s chest instead. Luke rests his hand against Grogu’s little form, both to protect and comfort him, and Luke makes a beeline for Leia’s home. He’s a half hour early, having made good time in hyperspace, and he’s itching to get inside and see his sister. 

Leia's house is on one of the upper levels, closer to the Senate building, and Luke has to take two separate speeder lifts just to get to the top. Speeders whiz and race past him, going in every direction, and Luke wonders what it would be like to try and fly through the heart of the city: how many speeders he'd be able to avoid before finally wrecking. That thought process will only get him in trouble though, so Luke pushes it away and instead focuses on hopping out of the speeder, robes whipping back at the air that rushes from the pit of the city. Luke stops in front of Leia's building, taking a deep breath and battening down the waves of the force that swirl around him, arranging them into something neater, more easily managed. Only once he's gotten himself into something resembling the normal calm demeanor he's praised for does Luke knock on the door. 

The door swings open, revealing an older man with dark brown hair, who smirks at him. "Hey kid."

"Hi Han. Leia home?"

"Nah, off on some Senate errand. Told me not to let you run away though. That your kid?"

Han motions toward the bundle on Luke's chest as he steps away from the door, Luke ducking inside and brushing the hood off his head only once the door has shut. 

"My student, yes. Did Leia say how long she'd be?" He looks around while Han closes the door- the house is clean, immaculately so,  but if he knows his sister, which he does, she spends about as much time here as Luke spends on Tatooine. Which isn't much anymore, if he can help it. 

"Aww, don't want to hang out? I'm starting to think you don't love me anymore." Han's grin is easy and genuine and makes Luke roll his eyes.

"I just don't have much time before I have to leave. It's a tight turn around."

"Then you'd better speak fast." Luke jumps at the sound of Leia's voice, and he turns, watching as she slinks down the stairs, dressed in a cream suit that flatters her figure. Luke scowls when Han laughs at him, but Leia is sweeping him up into a tight hug that Luke stoops down to accept, pressing his cheek to hers but keeping his chest carefully angled away. Grogu squirms against his chest, curious, and Luke pulls back, letting the child poke his head out.

At first it's just his eyes and ears, staring curiously at Leia, who regards him with open wonder. Luke feels her reach out with the force the same instant Grogu does, and they release twin noises of surprise, Grogu kicking his legs to try and pull himself from the sling.

"Okay okay, no need to kick, here you little womp rat." Luke tugs Grogu free from the sling, depositing him in Leia's arms, who takes him with minimal hesitation. Her eyes are bright and friendly, and she pets a finger along the ridge of Grogu's ear. 

"How did you find him?"

"I didn't. Din did." Leia looks up, keeping Grogu nestled in her arms while she waves for Luke to follow. They head into the living room off the main hallway, Leia sinking onto the couch while Luke remains standing, too tired of sitting to bother settling down. "Grogu can tell you the story- he's much more descriptive."

"I heard that a mandalorian was tearing up the outer rim in search of something. I didn't realize it was him." Leia coos at Grogu, letting him tug on the end of her long braid while cooing back.

"But you know he's Mand'alor?"

"Through word of mouth, mostly, though his reaction confirmed it." Leia looks up at the thought of Din, regarding Luke with something akin to exasperation. "Why didn't you say anything about him?"

"He's a private person."

"I'm your sister."

"You know now don't you?" Leia purses her lips, displeased, but she can't argue against that point, even if she did want to know sooner. Leia opens her mouth to say something just as the clock chirps the new hour, Luke's eyes flying up to check. He holds a hand up, sly smile on his face. "I have an hour before I have to leave again. You get one question about him: how we got together, who he is, or what he's like."

"The last two are the same." Leia points out, frowning. 

"You have two options then." Luke replies, Leia's frown deepening.

"How you two got together?."

Luke's expression goes wistful, and he paces the length of the living while thinking of what he wants to say. 

"I saved him and the child from a squadron of dark troopers on an Imperial cruiser. It's how Din became Mand'alor, actually. He won the Darksaber in a fight against Moff Gideon."

"That isn't how you got together."

"I'm getting there." Luke shoots back, squinting unhappily at Leia until she holds up a hand in a placating gesture. "Din was… unprepared for Grogu to leave. They'd done all this work to save him, to rescue him and I came in and just- well I didn't steal him, Din gave full permission but… he was heartbroken. For a long time I felt echoes of it, and eventually I sent him coordinates to visit. Grogu missed his buir as much as Din must have missed his ad'ika."

"He taught you Mando'a?"

Luke laughs, shaking his head. "I just picked up the important words." Luke's expression sobers, and his hands disappear into the sleeves of his robes, worrying away at the shirt underneath. "I had visions of Din nightly- glimpses of him with friends or alone, but always heading in my direction. When Din finally did land on the planet I couldn't be sure if it was him or another vision."

Luke's voice peters off as he hesitates, but Leia is silent and Luke lets the words come to him faster and faster, flowing past his lips in a tidal wave. "He only stayed a day the first time- but when he came back and he- never left. For Grogu, I knew, at least at first, but denying attachments had never been my strong suit and- he's force sensitive Lee, not that he can use it really, but it drove me half mad with the way he could use it. I didn't- want him to leave after a while. The house seemed too empty and his cooking is much better anyway." 

Luke hears Leia laugh and he finds himself smiling along. "He was the one that kissed me first, actually."

"You've seen his face?"

"We're a clan." Luke replies, voice soft with awe. "But kissing is different- like what you saw over the holo. He doesn't have to remove it, and half the time he doesn't. It was a relief just to know how he felt that night, but he's- brilliant. He's smart and he's funny and he's such a good dad and he's handsome."

"With or without the helmet?"

"Yeah." Leia laughs at the dreamy look that clouds Luke's face, glancing over at the clock. He's already ten minutes past when he was supposed to leave. “I’m… very lucky to have him, and to have Grogu as well.”

“You’re happy.” Leia says, fondness written all over her. “What are you doing that you’re leaving Grogu here?”

“Meeting his family.” Luke breaks from his reverie finally, glancing at the clock before gasping with outrage. “Leia! You did that on purpose!”

“I didn’t do anything.” Leia denies, the spitting image of innocence, and Luke scowls. He jogs over, ducking down to bump his forehead against Grogu’s little head. A clawed hand pats his cheek and Luke leans back, catching his gaze and staring pointedly.

“Be good, Grogu. She isn’t just a normal person, she’s like me. Which means she can tell when you try to use the force to sneak snacks.”

Grogu gurgles in disappointment, obviously displeased, but Leia bounces him a little higher in her arms and he giggles. Luke presses a warm kiss to Leia’s cheek before jogging for the door, waving goodbye and slipping outside. He’s much too impatient to wait for a speeder to take him down a few levels, so Luke does what any person would do.

He jumps off the edge of the city, letting himself plummet faster and faster until he jerks to a stop, the force catching around him like a net. A speeder with a family inside screeches just above his head, and he carefully maneuvers his way back to the level needed, hoisting himself up over the edge and dusting his robes off. All around him people stare at him with wide, confused eyes, but Luke is already slipping from their view before anyone can ask him questions. Artoo whistles happily when Luke comes bounding up to the ship, ignoring the ladder in lieu of hopping lightly, kicking off of the wing and vaulting up into the cockpit. 

Luke shoves the helmet on, securing it under his chin as the cockpit seals around him and Luke gets comfortable. “Alright Artoo, we’ve got time to make up!”

Luke’s hands are barely on the yolk when the ship roars into movement, and Luke allows Artoo to guide them out of the city and into open space before he takes over. He doesn’t have to pilot, Artoo could easily handle it, but Luke hasn’t let Artoo truly fly him anywhere in years. Instead he lets him chart a path and then takes off, following with careful precision and overexaggerated loops just to make his stomach flip and roll with the g force. 

He’s on a crash course for Din, and nothing will be able to stop him.

                                                        -*-

There’s a charlie horse in Luke’s leg that he can’t shake out and he wants to rocket himself into space. He’s been in his cockpit for far too long for his liking, having gone straight there and back, and by the time he slams through the air into the open sky of where he now calls home his knee is jittering anxiously. Luke’s landing is a bit hot but Luke swings the back end of his ship in a wide arc before easing to the ground, touching down and powering down as soon as he’s able to. Luke tugs his helmet off, storing it before popping the hatch to the cockpit, shoving the hatch up and open. He drags in a deep breath of balmy air, eyes closed, before he steps up onto the edge of the cockpit, crouches, and leaps off.

The burn in his muscles is fresh and beautiful and Luke craves it more than anything as he flips and lands in the dirt, laughing to himself. Luke dips into lunge after lunge, moving through defensive stances that intentionally stretch his aching thighs and calves out. He’s so caught up in the rush of being able to move after being in the cockpit so long that he doesn’t notice Din standing in the doorway to the Razor Crest, arms crossed over his chest and whole body tense. When Luke does finally notice him he goes stock still, nearly in the splits, eyes wide.

“Din! How uh, how long have you been there?”

“Long enough to see the flip.” Luke grimaces, straightening up and rubbing at the back of his neck. 

“It was a long flight back.” Luke supplies in defense, Din only humming. He doesn’t move from his spot and neither does Luke at first. “I know I’m a little late, I got caught up talking to Leia and I didn’t notice-”

“I’m not mad.” Din interrupts, Luke’s shoulders sagging in relief, and he takes a few steps toward the ship, stopping at the bottom of the ramp. Din tilts his head down, watching him, and Luke feels something like apprehension or eagerness crawl up his spine. Din’s hard to get a read on at the best of times when he’s actively protecting himself, and Luke still hasn’t gotten used to having to try. Din finally breaks away from his spot by the door, walking down the ramp with heavy, purposeful steps. They’re nearly close enough for Luke to reach out and touch when Din does so first, holding his hand out in an offer. “Are you ready to go?”

“No time to waste, we’re already going to be fashionably late, huh?” Luke turns to Artoo, nodding his head toward the ship. Din doesn’t seem.. Thrilled, but he’s warmed marginally to Artoo, and doesn’t object when Artoo rockets up the ramp and disappears into the ship.

“No time like the present.” Din agrees, Luke taking the other man’s hand, skin sliding along worn leather. Luke allows Din to lead him up the ramp and into the belly of the ship, eyes adjusting to the lighting as the ramp lifts up behind them. 

Luke isn’t quite sure what he expected when he saw the outside of the Razor Crest, but a bounty hunters ship was about it. He can see a carbonite bay tucked near the back, but there aren’t any people encased, and Luke edges away from the contraption with barely concealed anxiety. He’d seen what happened to Han so many years ago and still felt the remnants of his own brush with that fate anytime the weather took a particularly cold turn. Din doesn’t seem to notice Luke’s apprehension about the bay, instead pulling him deeper into the ship itself. He allows Luke to look around the living space; Luke goes straight for the weapons locker, letting it swing open before nosing around. He hems and haws over the selection, and Luke can see Din go still when Luke lifts a particularly powerful rifle, hand smoothing up the barrel as he inspects it.

“You didn’t have this one before.”

“How do you know?”

“Your signature isn’t on it.” Luke replies, grin just slightly unsettling. It’s enough to remind Din that he does have powers, as Din calls them, and he shelves the gun again, giving it a lingering look. He’s going to have to ask Din to let him shoot a couple of them. Din closes the weapons locker while Luke goes to snoop in the sleeping bay, humming when he sees his bag tucked away in one of the cubbies built into the wall. At least Din remembered to grab it. Luke doesn’t pay much attention to the refresher, though it does intrigue him how spacious it seems to be- usually it’s just a  vac tube and maybe a sink, but Din’s is nicer, obviously meant more for comfort than straight efficiency. Once Luke has snooped enough, Din climbs the ladder up into the cockpit, Luke following close on his heels. “Can I fly?”

“Maybe on the way home.” Luke practically bounces out of his seat at the reply, and he tries to be patient and out of the way as Din settles himself in the captain’s chair. Luke watches as Din’s hands slip along the dashboard, flipping switches and pressing buttons in seemingly random orders. Luke has to admit he’s never really flown anything quite like the Crest, and not even the Falcon seemed to have quite so many buttons. Din’s movements are easy and precise, and Luke shouldn’t admit it but watching Din work makes the back of his neck flush. 

Din handles them all like he has a thousand times, and he flips two more switches before the engines whine to life, powering up and shaking Luke’s bones. They’re so much more powerful than the x-wing’s single engine, and Luke feels like he could be shaken out of his chair as Din takes hold of the yolks in front of him. Din doesn’t give him any warning before the ship lifts, easing into the sky. Luke sinks back into his seat, fingers gripping the edges, and watches, eyes on Din’s hands the entire time that they ascend. 

His hands shouldn’t look so lovely around the yolks, really it’s practical and necessary for Din to hold them the way he is, grip firm and tight around them, applying even pressure to guide the ship higher. What isn’t necessary is the way that Din’s thumbs swipe over the tops of them, Luke’s breath hitching in his throat at the sight as he tries miserably not to think about Din’s hands elsewhere. Luke sees Din’s helmet tilt infinitesimally toward him, as if he heard, and Luke has to fight against the urge to cross his legs to hide whatever reaction he may or may not be having. If he does that though Din will definitely know, so Luke leans back in his chair and thinks his purest Jedi thoughts. 

Jedi thoughts turn out to be useless when Din works them through the atmosphere: Luke is used to the drag and jittering of ripping through the layers between space and whatever planet he’s leaving, and he expects the bulk of the Crest to be less than elegant. But when the ship begins to shake Din eases the yolks back, tipping the nose and increasing the throttle in one smooth movement. They slip through like water seeping between a crack in the earth, smooth and uninterrupted, and Luke could kiss Din senseless at the pure artistry in his piloting skills. Luke might think himself an ace pilot, especially with his x-wing, but even he would have struggled with such a smooth exit. 

“You’re good with the yolks.” Luke blurts it out without thinking, slapping a hand over his mouth when he realizes what he’s done. Din’s laugh is honey thick, simmering with heat, and Luke tries very hard to sink back into the seat and disappear. Din doesn’t say anything until they’ve slipped into hyperspace, and it’s only to turn to Luke with a simple command.

“Go shower.”

“Do I stink?” Luke lifts his robe up, but he can’t smell anything other than smog and the lingering scent of Leia’s perfume. 

“No, but I can tell you want to.” Luke pauses, frowning, but he had been lamenting that Din’s ship didn’t seem to have one. “Take your time.”

“You’re sure you don’t want me to wait?” Din shakes his head once and Luke rises from his chair, lingering a moment to watch Din fiddle with the autopilot before slipping back down to the living quarters. As much as he wants to wait or ask Din to join him he does feel gross, and he leaves his clothes in a pile on the cot before slipping into the ‘fresher and letting the door close behind him. It takes him an obtuse moment to figure out that the showerhead is tucked back into the wall when not in use, and another moment of cold shock before he gets the water to heat. 

The hot water is a delight that Luke has sorely missed, and he allows himself to stand under the spray, pounding against his back with surprising pressure. He’s slow to wash himself up, to hurry the process along, but Luke knows there’s limited water and he doesn’t want to use it all lest Din wants a shower later. Alone in the steam of the shower Luke allows his thoughts to drift: Din’s fingers wrapped tight around the yolks, guiding them up and away, Din’s hand on his waist, holding him close in the moments they steal when they can. It’s almost embarrassing to say that he wants Din this way so often- he’s perfectly content to do nothing more than kissing, and it’s honestly never been something Luke thought about in regards to other people.

But there’s something about Din that lights his skin on fire when he sees something he particularly likes, or thinks about the things he wants to ask for but never will. 

Luke turns the shower off, watching the water circle the drain as he uses a small towel to scrub himself dry and wring out his hair. He's still in the 'fresher when he hears Din call for him, and Luke grabs his robe, slipping it on and cinching it at the waist before climbing the ladder. His skin prickles with cold and he probably should have gotten dressed first, but Din never calls for him unless he needs something and Luke is eager to see what he can help with.

"Din?" Luke pokes his head into the cockpit, padding inside on bare feet when Din doesn't answer. Din turns his head once Luke gets close enough, and Luke sees the predatory tilt of Din's head when his eyes sweep over Luke's form. "You needed something?"

"Mm." That… doesn't answer anything really, and Luke raises a brow when Din reaches out, resting his hand on Luke's hip and smoothing his thumb over the line of bone there. Luke tries not to let the touch get to him, but Din's fingers press in gently and he finds himself being tugged forward. He skids a hand against Din's vambrace, trying to brace himself, but Din hauls him forward regardless and Luke finds he very much likes the attention. Din turns the chair so that he's facing Luke, and with another insistent tug Luke finds himself settling into Din's lap, thighs snug around Din's and knees digging into Din's hips. 

"Oh." Luke utters, tongue tied as Din's hands move to brace Luke's waist as the chair swivels back to face the front. Luke can tell from the viewport they're very firmly in hyperspace, but the back of Luke's neck tickles with awareness that in other circumstances someone could see him, perched in Din's lap in only a robe. A robe that Din is toying with, tracing the edges up to where it's draped shut, barely covering him. Luke feels like his skin has caught fire, and he shifts in Din's lap just slightly. 

Din's thigh plates are gone. 

Heat sears down Luke's spine at the heady implication and he tips forward, pressing his forehead to Din's helmet and letting his breath fog the visor. "Din."

"Do you remember what you said," Din begins, voice low and smooth. "The night you found out I could feel you using the force?"

"Which part?" There were a lot of things Luke said, both during and after and in between, but Din's hands slip beneath the robe to trail over his thighs and Luke realizes Din doesn't have gloves on. Din doesn't say anything for a moment, instead smoothing both hands up and down Luke's thighs, pushing the robe away and letting it fall back around Luke's hips. It bares Luke to the cockpit and most embarrassingly to Din, who watches the way that Luke's cock twitches with interest at each touch. "Din." Luke entreats, puffing out a sharp breath when Din's thumbs dig into the junction of hip and thigh, drawing out that wonderful wobbly feeling that makes Luke's stomach clench and thighs jerk underhand. 

"The part about having fun, if I'd asked sooner."

"What am I supposed to be asking for?" Luke is breathless now, eyes wide, and Din uses his hold on Luke to tug him forward, slotting their hips together and letting Luke's weight rest fully against him. Luke's brain shorts out at what he feels because there's no way that shape was there before and Luke never mentioned anything and-

"Oh." Luke says again, voice weak and needy, and Din huffs out a laugh that makes Luke's toes curl. "Din I-"

"Our connection goes both ways." Din whispers, hands wandering as Luke shivers in his lap when the tie to his robe is tugged open, allowing the robe to fall loose around him. "You're most open in your sleep, when you dream about things you think you shouldn't have."

"I shouldn't ask for." Luke corrects softly, teeth catching at his lower lip when Din rolls his hips up. The press of whatever Din has hidden away against Luke's own rapidly growing interest is sublime and Luke barely keeps himself from grinding down. Only the careful way Din watches him keeps him from doing anything too desperate just yet.

"You should ask for it, Luke. I want it too." Luke's heart hammers in his chest at the words, and Din never ceases to amaze him in the steadfast acceptance he shows. The attention that the armored man showers on him, whether they're alone or not. 

"You want to do it… here?"

"You look good against the stars. You belong here, in my lap." Luke can feel his cheeks flush at the compliment but the only thing he can really focus on is the pitiful moan that he lets out at the phrasing. "We can wait until we land, if that makes you more comfortable." 

"Din, I am not leaving your lap."

"I was hoping you'd say that."

Luke laughs softly, but Din's hand wraps around him in a gentle, teasing touch and Luke gasps, hips bucking up into Din's fist. "How long were you planning this?"

"A while." Din admits, thumbing at the underside of the head in a way that makes Luke's brain go fuzzy. Luke isn't sure what to do with his hands so he just rests them against Din's chest plate, closing his eyes as Din's hand squeezes lightly around him to draw out a soft whine. He's fully hard now, soft and warm and pliant in Din's lap, and Luke groans when Din pulls his hand back. 

"Wanted to ask you for a while, but I was never- ah- brave enough." Luke can't help the noise that interrupts him when Din grabs his ass, spreading him teasingly as his other hand messes with something behind them Luke can't see. Din hums, goading Luke on, and Luke tries his best to focus. It becomes increasingly hard to do so when a single slick finger rubs absently at his rim, circling the sensitive muscle without dipping in quite yet. Every time Luke goes to speak again Din shifts his fingers, and Luke shudders when Din finally slides a finger in, letting Luke adjust slowly. He finds his voice once the initial teasing is out of the way, eyes shut to help him focus. "I know after some of the stuff we've done it should be easy but ah- mm, you're very good at that-"

Din moves his finger in slow, languid strokes, content to let Luke speak even as a second joins the first. Luke is more than ready for it and he takes it easily, grinding back onto Din's fingers as his head tips back. Din lets Luke fuck himself on his fingers, watching with unabashed interest at the way Luke's thighs flex with each movement. Luke can sense Din's attention more than he can see it, even when he does open his eyes, and he catches a flash of his own eyes in Din's visor, electric blue in the light of hyperspace. "Have you done this while I was away? Touched yourself this way?"

"Yes." Luke isn't afraid to admit it, not now with Din crooking his fingers and bumping against his prostate every other pass. Luke's fingers curl around the edge of Din's armor, holding on for dear life when Din finally gets the angle right and presses up firmly and rubs, Luke's hips shoving back as he keens. "Fuck, Din- it wasn't- good like this."

"No? All that power, and you never once used it on yourself?" Luke shakes his head, whimpering when Din nudges a third finger against him. Luke whispers his agreement, tugging on Din's armor, and he moans when Din's fingers stretch him wide. "You could have. Could have opened yourself up for me, waited patiently till I got home."

"Mhm- Din, please if you keep going I'll-" Heat races through him and even in the cool interior of the Crest Luke feels feverish with want. Din's ministrations don't slow at all, even when Luke's hand drifts to twist in the fabric of Din's cloak at the junction of his neck and shoulder, and Luke is one second away from bursting, whining pathetically and hips grinding back. "Din- Din don't tease, wanna come with you in me-"

"You will." Din promises, and his fingers ease back just enough for Luke to focus on Din's voice. "Can you hang on?"

Luke whimpers, achingly close, but he nods after a second. He can do this much at least, and Din's fingers slowly resume their slow rhythm, though Din pointedly avoids Luke's prostate in favor of spreading his fingers a bit to stretch Luke wider. He groans at the feeling, right hand gripping Din's cloak in a death grip just to have something to hold on to. Din is maddeningly good at this and Luke feels stupid for not having asked sooner, breath catching in his throat when Din finally pulls his fingers out, circling Luke's rim in a final teasing touch before his hand disappears. 

Luke hears the soft pop of a cap and his mind goes blank, hands shooting down to fumble at Din's pants. Din hums a low approving noise that cuts short when Luke finally works the toy free. Luke has no clue how long he's been wearing it or how long Din has sat here with it pressing into his hip. The sight of it though stops Luke short, and he can't help the laugh that bubbles from him: it's green. Obnoxiously so, but when Luke glances up, raising a brow Din shrugs defensively.

"It reminded me of you." 

"Thank you." Luke's voice is sincere, and he can imagine more so than see Din roll his eyes. 

"Don't be a brat."

"Wouldn't dream of it, Mand'alor." Luke laughs again when Din's hand swats at his ass, probably harder than he means, but Luke finds he doesn't mind it terribly, especially when Din's fingers soothes over the red mark it must have left. Luke shuffles himself a bit closer, lifting his hips as Din slicks the length of the toy, watching him. 

"Come here." Luke tries not to seem so eager when he moves closer, though he knows he fails miserably when Din hums quietly. Din's hands settle on Luke's hips, holding him steady, and Luke stops, kneeling above Din's lap and waiting. He doesn't know what he's waiting for until Din nods, tilting his head as Luke reaches to steady the base of the toy. The first initial press makes his hips still, overwhelmed, but Din's thumbs sweep over his hip bones as Luke pants, slowly fitting more and more until he's pressed to Din's lap, trembling. "Okay?"

Luke nods his head frantically, gasping when Din's hips shift: the toy carves deliciously into him, and it's been too long since he had this, since he let someone get close enough to do anything like this. Luke should be embarrassed at the way he moans, but Din pulls back before snapping his hips back up and Luke's vision whites out. He hears Din's own shaky noise in response and that spurs Luke into action, lifting his hips of his own accord and letting Din drag him back down. 

"Din-" Luke doesn't know what to say, brain fried by the way that Din thrusts up into him, but he tips himself back, letting the cold metal of the dashboard dig into the small of his back. He doesn't have the strength to stay sitting up fully, thighs trembling and jerking each time that Din rolls his hips, but the angle is better, tighter and Luke cries out at the first hard slide against his prostate. He braces an elbow back against the panel, robe pooling at his elbows as the other hand shoots out, grabbing blindly for something to hold on to. He feels a button depress under his fingers and Luke swears, but Din doesn't break his stride, hips thrusting up smoothly as he leans over, flipping another switch to fix whatever Luke's wandering hand had done. 

The image of Din piloting while Luke is helpless in his lap makes fire roar through him, and Luke is shamelessly close, chest heaving with his breaths. The edge of the console digs uncomfortably into his back but he arches up and away from it anyway when Din grabs at his hip again and pulls him a bit closer. 

"Careful." Din soothes, a hand sliding down Luke's thigh while the other braces against his side. "You don't want to knock us out of hyperspace."

"That'd be- bad." Luke agrees, though he can't find it in himself to care too terribly much when Din is very warm and very talented with the movements of his hips. Luke glances at Din, wanting desperately to see him, but the muddy image in his beskar makes Luke pause: he stares at the way his skin has gone blotchy, chest and neck red and cock curving up against his hip, and when he spares a glance up his eyes widen. He looks- wrecked, for lack of a better word, tears gathered in the corners of his eyes and half lidded, and Luke can't help the way he moans at the thought of Din seeing him this way, fucked out and desperate. Luke suddenly can't take it anymore, doesn't want the barrier, and the force sweeps along Din harder than necessary as Luke pops the lock on his helmet, whimpering. "Off, please, please I wanna-"

"Take it off, Luke." Luke surges forward, pushing off the dash and narrowly avoiding jostling a yolk on the way as he reaches for Din's helmet. It slides up and off without any resistance and Luke doesn't care where it lands as he tosses it toward the direction of the co-pilot's chair. Normally Din would scold him for the mishandling of his beskar but the other man only moans, brown eyes dark and half wild with lust as Luke surges to kiss him. 

He cups Din's neck with one hand, the other burying in his hair and tugging as Din fucks up into him, hips stuttering when Luke laps into his mouth, tasting the noises he lets out. Luke can feel his own release boiling just under his skin and he drags the force along the length of Din's back, delighting in the shudder and gasp that earns him. Luke doesn't miss the small brush of an electronic, so quiet compared to the rest of the ship that Luke's curiosity is peaked. Luke reaches out, turning the little device on and pulling back when Din's hips jerk hard up into him, losing their rhythm completely. Luke watches the way that Din's eyelids flutter, and Luke grins, using a bit of help from the force to ratchet the power in the device up a notch. Din whines his name, breathless, and Luke grinds his hips down, panting and edged in sweat. 

"Don't wanna come alone."

"Fuck- you could have warned me."

"Didn't know it was there." Luke shrugs, as if it were Din’s fault for not telling him, and Luke gasps when Din finds his rhythm again, hard and fast. Luke doesn’t bother trying to talk anymore because each thrust punches weak, needy moans from his lips and he’s so close his thighs are starting to go numb. Luke knows that he could come just like this, fucked open and mind hazy with bliss, but he bumps his forehead against Din’s, leaning heavily against him as his hips cant up, changing the angle and keening when Din hits his prostate head on. 

Luke is dizzyingly, staggeringly close and he doesn’t know how much longer he’s going to be able to hold on. Din’s hands are bruising on his hips, dragging him down with each sharp thrust and Luke is helplessly in love with the way that Din’s eyebrows scrunch, thighs twitching under Luke’s as sweet moans drift from his lips when Luke quiets long enough to hear them. Luke lets his normal, tight control on the force loosen now, letting all that he feels rush around him, filling the cockpit with battering waves of energy. He feels Din quake underneath him at the feeling and Luke dips to kiss Din’s neck, trailing his lips up in a slow arc until his cheek presses to Din’s, Luke moaning softly into Din’s ear and smiling when Din grips his hips harder.

Luke can feel a wave building higher and higher in Din, raging and powerful and Luke wants to drown. He wants so badly that he doesn’t think he could stop the way Din’s own emotions batter him, and their pleasure twines together so closely that Luke doesn’t know how he’s going to untangle them again. 

Luke isn’t sure who comes first- him or Din. 

All he knows is that Din is entirely too good to him, a hand snaking between them to take him in hand and stroke him in time with the movement of their hips. Luke shakes apart in Din’s lap, pressing his face into Din’s hair and riding out the shocks that skitter along his nerves, lighting him up from within as Din ruts his hips up, whining low in his throat until Luke gets the memo and turns the vibe off with a twitch of his fingers. Din sags in relief underneath him, chest rising and falling with his ragged breaths, and Luke can feel the mess he’s made of Din’s beskar smearing against his stomach. Luke sits heavy in Din’s lap, unwilling to move away quite yet as he regains feeling in his legs while Din’s hand wanders from his hip, petting across the small of his back and tracing the bumps of his spine up and down in a soothing motion. 

Luke is groggy, half heartedly tugging at the strings of the force around him to arrange them into something more easily worked when Din turns his head, kissing his jaw and smiling against his skin. 

“What?” Luke questions, tilting his head to the side to allow Din to leave warm, open mouthed kisses along his neck just for the sake of touching him. 

“Nothing.” Din’s voice is far too light, too casual, and Luke brings his hand up, snapping his fingers as the vibe thrums to life. Din jerks, swearing, and Luke snaps his fingers again, groaning when Din bites his neck in retaliation. “You’re being a brat.”

“You didn’t say how long I had to be good.” Luke says, lips curling in a self satisfied smile when Din snorts against his neck, resuming his ministrations. 

It’s a minute before Din stops long enough to talk, and by then Luke is able to lift himself up and off the toy, settling in Din’s lap again. “I’m just- happy.”

“Mm, no need to hide that.” Luke sits back on his haunches, ignoring the way his thighs protest the movement as he looks Din over, smoothing his hair away from his forehead. Luke traces his fingertips across Din’s forehead, over his temple before cupping Din’s cheek and sweeping his thumb over Din’s lips. “I am too.”

Luke watches the way that Din’s eyes sparkle, lips quirking into a small, pleased smile that Luke knows he doesn’t know how to hide. Luke finds himself smiling too, just to see Din’s grow at the sight, and Luke tips forward to place a soft kiss on his lips, the curve of Din’s smile soft underneath his lips. Din’s hand stills against the small of his back, pressing him a bit closer as Din tilts his head, slotting their lips together easier and sighing softly. Luke keeps his eyes open for a moment more just to see the soft, relaxed way that Din’s eyes slip shut, the way his head tilts just so to kiss him easier. Luke closes his eyes, letting his other senses take over as his skin pricks underneath Din’s palm, hypersensitive to each touch. Kissing Din is a luxury that Luke gladly takes as much of as he can, and he only pulls back when his skin begins to stick to Din’s beskar.

“As much as I could sit here forever, I think I could use another shower.” Din hums noncommittally, but Luke swings from his lap in one graceful movement that ends in his knees buckling, hand shooting out wildly to grab the edge of the dashboard as he laughs. “Ah, maybe I’ll just wait here.” 

“Something wrong?” Din questions, head tilting as he turns in his chair, watching the way that Luke leans against the console. The bright eyed glare he levels over his shoulder is scathing and Luke scoffs in annoyance when Din’s smug smile only grows. 

“No, not at all, just waiting for you.”

“I’ll follow behind.” Luke locks eyes with him, blue against brown, and it’s ultimately Luke who wins, Din unused to prolonged eye contact and Luke too stubborn to look away. Luke shoves away from the console, heading for the door and down the ladder into the sleeping bay before his legs can decide to give out on him again. He makes it down the ladder with only minor struggle, and Din is right behind him, nearly at the bottom when Luke snaps his fingers.

Luke watches Din’s back go rigid as his knees go weak, and he watches in smug satisfaction as Din’s knees hit the floor at the bottom of the ladder, bare hands tight around the rungs bolted into the wall. “Something wrong?” Luke parrots, leaning back against the doorframe for the refresher as Din hauls himself up using the strength of his arms. Din’s eyes are lava hot, black in the fluorescents of the ship, but Luke raises a brow as Din stands there, shaking. 

“Turn it off.” Din’s voice is rough in his throat, but Luke catches the pleading, desperate edge to it because he crooks his finger in a come hither motion. Din doesn’t move for a moment and Luke thinks that he’s misjudged, but then Din shoves away from the ladder and storms over to him, beskar digging in uncomfortably as Din presses him bodily back against the wall. “Turn it off, Luke.”

“In a minute.” 

“Luke-” Din’s voice finally cracks and Luke makes that same crooking motion with his finger, gripping Din’s bicep to keep him from collapsing as the vibrations grow in intensity. Luke drinks in the way that Din’s eyes go distant, lips parting as a soft moan falls from his mouth as his brow furrows. He hangs his head, hands gripping uselessly at Luke’s robe as his hips jerk. It doesn’t take long, not with the way that Luke keeps ratcheting up the intensity before Din is shaking in Luke’s arms, moaning desperately and only just keeping himself standing as an orgasm washes over him. Luke presses a kiss into his hair as he dims the intensity slowly until finally turning the vibe off, letting Din stand in his arms, shaking against him and forehead pressed to Luke’s collar bone. “You’re awful.” Din says eventually, though there’s no venom in his voice. 

“I’ve been told that once or twice.” Luke agrees, hands skimming over Din’s armor to release the clasps and slip the pieces off one by one. By the time he’s got Din in his clothes Din seems more inclined to help, and he wiggles out of his shirt and pants, shucking the underwear with the toy off. “Shower?”

“Sleep.” Din argues, voice groggy. Luke waves for Din to go crawl into bed and Din doesn't argue, collapsing onto the cot without bothering to get into pajamas. Luke takes another quick shower, ass and thighs sticky from the lube, and then spends a bit washing the front of Din's chest plate so that Din won't forget in the morning. Only once he's gotten everything set does he duck into the sleeping bay, crawling over Din and using a sweep of his hand to close the bay off from anyone's sight. He won't sleep, not with them in hyperspace, but Din grabs for him greedily in his sleep, tucking his head under Luke's chin and causing the other man to smile and wrap an arm around him. Din's greatest strength seems to lie in passing out immediately after sex, and Luke wishes sometimes he could follow, but his brain won't shut down.

All he can think about is the way Din's hands had held him so tight, the way it had felt to be fucked in the captain's chair on display for Din and Din only. Luke has never been one to run toward being known, but Din looking at him, brown eyes soft and molten with lust made Luke want to bear himself in the hopes that Din would never look away. Din somehow manages to surprise him in some way each and every day, and Luke looks forward to the unknown more and more each day. Despite his own reservations about sleeping during hyperspace he will meditate, and he allows his mind to empty, thoughts scattering.

                                                       -*-

Din wakes up only a short time after Luke has drifted off. 

At first he forgets where they are, but the cot in the ship is small and slightly lumpy and Luke is smashed against his side. Din doesn’t care too terribly much that every inch of them is touching in some way, reveling in the easy contact and the way Luke’s arm remains a constant heavy weight over his ribs. Luke’s hair tickles at his nose and he brings a hand up to push it away from his face, freezing when Luke shifts and mumbles something under his breath. 

“Luke?” Din doesn’t want to wake him, but he doesn’t feel like he’s sleeping and when Luke shifts, humming quietly Din knows it was the right call. “We’ll drop out of hyperspace soon.”

“How soon?” Luke’s voice is groggy, half asleep, and Din almost chokes on the affection that swells up inside him. 

“Have to go up to see. You’re trapping me.”

“Mm.” Luke makes a noise of agreement but doesn’t move his arm, instead hugging Din a bit tighter and sighing happily. Din allows the cuddles for a minute more before shoving at Luke’s hip lightly, recoiling when Luke’s lips part in a pained gasp as Luke rolls onto his back, drawing away. Din sits up so fast that dizziness slams into his skull as he drifts careful hands over Luke’s stomach and sides, Luke protesting. “Din, I’m fine, stop fussing-”

“That,” Din says quietly, voice trembling, “Was not an okay sound.” 

Din watches as Luke sits himself up, narrowly avoiding knocking their heads together as he tosses the blanket back to show Din that he’s fine. But- he’s not. Bruises bloom over his hips in splotchy lines and curves, and Din’s hands clench into fists. He should feel shame: he knows it in the back of his mind, that hurting Luke this way, leaving these kinds of marks is unacceptable, but Din reaches forward, sliding his hand over them lightly and lining his fingers up to each purple bruise. His hand settles comfortably on Luke’s hip and Din can feel his cheeks burning.

“I told you I was fine.” Luke insists, though his voice has gone soft and breathy as Din pulls back to sweep his fingers over the marks. 

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“You didn’t.” Din looks up, frowning, and Luke smiles, sheepish. “Okay, so they’re sore, but I like them.”

Din comes up short at that: he doesn’t really see a reason to be upset if Luke likes them, and Din has to admit they do look rather fetching against the pale ivory of Luke’s skin. Din smoothes a hand over them again, pressing lightly and watching the way that Luke’s hips twitch, a rueful smile spreading across his face.

“Don’t start things you can't finish.” 

Din hums, thoughtful, and dips to kiss the Jedi, a thrill going down his spine when Luke presses up against him. Luke’s hand comes up to cup the back of his neck but Din pulls back, kissing the tip of his nose and slipping out of bed. Luke groans loudly, annoyed, but Din only chuckles, moving to find his clothes and pull them on. He’s expecting to have to clean off his beskar but he’s pleasantly surprised when it shines dully in the light, clean of the mess they made a few hours ago. Once he’s armored again he hauls himself up the ladder, ducking into the cockpit and scooping his helmet up off the floor.

The display in front of him glows softly and when Din looks he’s surprised to find that they’re only minutes from dropping out of hyperspace. He slept longer than he expected. “Drop in five.” He calls, listening as Luke bangs around in the sleeping area below. Din isn’t worried about him going flying, Luke can handle himself, but he doesn’t want to cause anymore bruises if he can help it. He takes hold of the yolks when the computer beeps, guiding them through and down out of hyperspace as smoothly as he can, letting his body sag back against the chair as the ship slows around him. The drag of leaving hyperspace always disorients him for a minute, but he’s long trained himself to push through the dizziness to guide himself down toward the planet in question. 

Nevarro’s atmosphere blooms hot around the nose of his ship as he plummets through, sweeping down through the clouds and dipping low over the dark sand and familiar rivers of lava that warm the flats. Din expects Luke to join him up in the cockpit, but he’s still fumbling around down below and Din isn’t going to call him up if he’s busy. It gives him time to worry privately about their meeting- Luke isn’t meeting his convert, not since they scattered to the wind: He’s meeting arguably the most important people in his life- all the ones who helped guide him toward the path he’s on now and kept him on it even when he was teetering on the edge, ready to fall off. It takes a minute to find a spot in the port clear enough for him to land, and he lowers them carefully, touching down with little more than a bump before switching off the control panel and snatching the steering chip out of it.

Din drops down the ladder easily, knees dipping to absorb the shock as he peers around. He finally catches sight of the door to the cargo bay open and heads that way, padding down the ramp and glancing around. He spots Luke’s blonde head of hair a few paces away, peering curiously up at the twin suns that light the sky. Din stops short at the bottom of the ramp, heart stuttering in his chest at the sight of him. The cloak around Luke’s shoulders is white- soft and plush looking and far too warm for the climate of Nevarro. When Luke turns, smiling, Din loses his breath at the sight of him, blue eyes bright against the stark snow white contrast of his clothes. They’re simple, pants and a form fitted long sleeve and boots, but the way the cloak hangs across his front like a cowl before draping over one shoulder flatters the slim angle of his shoulders and hips. 

“What are you wearing?” Din feels stupid instantly at the question, but the lightest color he’s ever worn is tan, and Din’s eyes flick down to the dark sooty dirt that’s bound to stain the bottom of the cloak. 

“Thought I should look nice.” Luke answers, shrugging his shoulders and smiling, just a shy quirk of his lips. His cheeks are pink and the white makes his skin look tanner, warm and flushed and Din can’t seem to formulate an intelligent reply. “Din?”

“Hm?”

Luke’s grin is pleased, affectionate as he beckons Din forward. The ramp rises behind him when Din finally steps off and walks forward, taking Luke’s outstretched hand. Luke’s right hand is clad in a white glove to match and Din worries his old leather is going to ruin it, but Luke doesn’t seem to care, smiling the way he is. “You have to lead. I don’t know where we’re going.”

“Oh. Right.” Din shakes his head to clear it, leading them away from the Crest and through the arch that guards the entrance to the town proper. Din moves through the crowd the way he has a thousand times, dragging a wide-eyed Luke along behind him. Din knows the town is safer than ever, but Luke’s child-like wonder is a neon sign for them to get robbed and Din ushers him along through the streets, ducking into an alley and heading for an unmarked door. He knocks twice and kicks the bottom once, Luke raising a brow and snickering when the door slips open. Din ducks inside, mindful of the low threshold, and Luke follows behind, glancing around the room. 

It’s mostly empty with a kitchenette tucked in one corner with a huge table dominating most of the space. There are a couple of couches that are devoid of people, and Din feels himself relax a bit. 

“You’re late!” A feminine voice calls, Din turning toward the sound and snorting when Cara comes striding up. She hasn’t changed out of her armor, and Din can see the gold of her badge heavy on her hip. Cara stops at the sight of Luke, whistling and raising a brow. “Dressed to impress, Jedi?”

“Always.” Luke says, grinning. “Marshal now, eh?” 

Cara’s hand strays to the badge, tracing over it, and Din can feel the pride radiating from her. “Was about time I went straight.”

Luke’s brows go up at the phrasing and that draws a laugh out of Cara, Din glancing between the two of them. For all Cara’s talk of Luke being New Republic she doesn’t seem very worried, at least not now with the badge on her hip. “It suits you. Bossing people around.” 

Cara rolls her eyes and reaches out to swat Luke’s shoulder, the man in question reaching up to brush at his cloak as if she’d gotten dirt on it. A new voice chimes in, quiet and brash, and Din’s hand nearly goes for his pistol on instinct before he recognizes it.  

“Stop hogging the Jedi, Cara. Some of us actually want to meet him.” Din inclines his head toward the asian woman, said woman nodding back before holding her hand out. Luke shakes it, barely reacting when Din knows she’s squeezing as hard as she can. She’s holding the wrong hand to intimidate with, because Luke squeezes back, mechanical hand whirring softly in Din’s receiver as the woman’s lips twitch. “Fennec Shand. Din’s told us a lot about you.”

“Terrible, gritty things I hope.” Fennec pauses, blinking for a moment before a small smile colors her face. “Luke Skywalker. Din has been willfully vague about most of you.”

Fennec nods, tilting her head, and her grin is sharklike when she glances at Din. “For good reason. Speaking of good reasons… Cara, care to join me in hunting down enough cups for all of us?”

“You brought Spotchka?” 

“It’s a party, isn’t it?” Cara and Fennec link arms as they head to raid the cupboards of the kitchenette and Luke turns to Din, nodding his head toward them. There’s a question in him that Din finds entirely predictable and Din nods. 

“Since you saved us on the cruiser.”

“Interesting. They’re a good match.” Luke glances back over at the two women who bow their heads together, whispering and occasionally glancing back at them before snickering and looking away again. “So, I know this can’t be it, or you wouldn’t be so nervous.”

“We’re waiting on two others.”

“And are they the ones I need to impress?”

“You don’t have to impress anyone.” Luke hums, unconvinced, and Din grimaces in his helmet. Okay, so the only person he’s actually worried about is Boba- the man doesn’t know when to shut his mouth and has an ego a parsec long and Luke is so willfully neutral that Din doesn’t know what will happen. “They’re just- rougher.”

“Is it because I’m from Tatooine?” A new voice, laced with a drawl and smooth as molasses chimes in, and Din makes sure not to let himself rock forward when a hand claps across his back. “Good to see you again Mando. Who’s this?”

“Luke. My partner.” Din can feel his cheeks flush at the phrasing, astounded at calling him that, and he looks the silver haired man over, tilting his head. “You knew he was coming.”

“Didn’t know he was from Tatooine.” the taller man grins easily, looking over toward Luke with an appraising look in his eyes.

“You know I’m from Tatooine?” Luke chimes in, voice amused and curious all in one. "Though, I suppose most people do."

"Nah, you walk like you belong on sand." 

"Excuse me?" Din watches Luke's brows go up in surprise, and he thinks that Luke might be offended until he laughs, stunned and cheerful and reaches to shake hands. "I haven't heard someone tell me that in years. Your name?"

"Cobb. Cobb Vanth."

"Mm, the Marshal of Nothing." Cobb smirks at that, nodding his head and trying not to seem so pleased. "You fly here on your own?"

"Nah, I leave the piloting to the experts. Hitched a ride on the Slave I."

"Yeesh, quite a name." Din freezes when he hears the soft, near silent steps of another hunter, and he watches as Boba Fett slips his helmet off, faint amusement in his eyes.

"It was my fathers." Luke turns toward the new voice, smile on his face, and Din watches in shock as Luke's face cycles through a plethora of emotions. Curiosity, anticipation, confusion, wild sweeping rage, cool acceptance, all before settling on careful, painted on indifference. A mask Din knows his Jedi training has supplied him with. Din glances at Boba, who's primed and ready for the normal comments he gets about his father or lack thereof, but Luke doesn't go for the low blow. Din stares in open confusion as Luke holds his hand out, shaking Boba's and tilting his head. The movement is predatory and dangerous and Din shouldn't find it attractive, but the brittle, sharp smile Luke plasters on only makes it worse. 

"Fett. The scars are new."

"Skywalker." Din watches Boba's grip tighten for a moment before he lets go, lips twitching. "The hand is new."

Boba says it easily, sympathetically, but Din catches the razor edge and he knows Luke does too. Luke only flashes that same sharp smile as before, shrugging his shoulders and dropping his hand. "No one gets through a war without a few scars. Is that sarlacc still kicking?"

"Is your father?" Din's vision goes blurry with the blinding, all encompassing fury that billows from Luke in enough of a wave to make his cloak rustle, and when Din sneaks a look around the room everyone is wide eyed and fearful, even normally rock solid Fennec. The emotion is there and gone faster than Din can blink, and Luke sniffs haughtily, looking Boba up and down once. 

"No. Much like the emperor and the death stars, he's been gone for years." Ah. The threat stitched so finely in Luke's casual words lance right through Din and he's suddenly very hot underneath all the armor and slightly ashamed at that fact. Din looks between the two, everyone up on pins and needles, but then Boba laughs, skirting around Luke and moving to stake a claim at the table, helmet placed in front of him like a shield. No one is sure what they should do, but then Luke moves, going and sweeping into the chair directly across from Boba as Din follows suit. He sits to Luke's right, Cobb on his left and the ladies on either side of Boba. It feels like a protection deal, a meeting between two rivals, and Din was not expecting the night to go this way. 

"So I'm going to assume y'all know each other. But I don't, so Luke," Cobb turns hazel eyes on him and Din watches the way Luke softens, lips quirking as he nods for Cobb to go on. "What'd you do on Tatooine?"

"Besides pod racing and shooting?" Cobb nods, smirking, and Luke leans back in his chair, fingers steepled in front of him. "My aunt and uncle who raised me were moisture farmers."

"Tough job. They raise you your whole life?"

"Just about. I was nineteen when I left home with my first Jedi Master, Ben. I met Han and Leia shortly after, and then joined the Rebellion."

"And wreaked havoc." Cara pipes in, Luke smiling sheepishly and shrugging his shoulders.

"I'd never left Tatooine before. Could hardly blame me if I was a little reckless in my ah, pursuits." Care snorts, pouring a glass of Spotchka for everyone and sliding the cups toward them. Din catches his, but he isn't going to drink it and they all know it. Instead he rolls the glass between his hands, watching as Luke downs his and then trades their glasses, letting Din fiddle with the now empty glass while he throws back Din's drink. No one blinks at the silent arrangement, though Boba watches, head tipped to one side. 

"Was one of your pursuits to plunge the galaxy into chaos?"

"Only partially." Luke replies coolly, carefully letting go of the glass with his right hand to drop his hand onto Din's thigh plate instead. The metal won't shatter like the glass will, and Din doesn't say a word when Luke's hand trembles on his thigh. "What were your pursuits, Boba Fett? Working for Jabba and the Empire?"

"Money talks." Boba's voice is careful, threaded with warning, but Luke smiles charmingly, blue eyes glittering, and Din listens as everyone takes a collective breath and holds it. 

"And I'm sure it's speaking to you now. Tell me, does Jabba's throne seem a bit big for you? It seemed rather uncomfortable last time I was there." Din watches in amazement as Boba's expression shutters, eyes narrowed, and he can't help the laugh that bubbles out of him. It's such a startling sound that the rest of the group join in after a moment, and Din shakes his head. 

"Like a couple of rabid jawas." Cobb murmurs, hiding his grin behind his glass and holding it out for a refill when Cara swishes the bottle invitingly. Luke does the same but allows Din to hold on to his empty glass, this time sipping slowly at the fluorescent blue liquid. 

Fennec sits back in her chair, eyes carefully neutral but a smirk on her face. "No wonder you fell for him, Mando. He doesn't pull punches."

"Mm." Din doesn't say much, but the thought pleases him greatly and he glances over at Luke. He finds the man watching him back, eyes soft and none of his rage present in the pale blue of his eyes. Din looks away before he gets lost and loses his train of thought, and he glances around the room. "Any questions for them, Luke?"

Luke perks up at the chance to ask now, nodding. "Plenty. Fennec, you work for Boba?" 

"I do." She agrees, shifting in her chair and eyes carefully guarded. "He saved my life."

"Noble. What did you do before?"

"Odd jobs. Contracts, cleaning. The works." Luke hums, somehow not surprised, and Fennec quirks a thin brow. "What else?"

"How'd you meet Din?" Fennec glances at Din, as if asking his permission, and Din nods. He figured Luke would ask, and he doesn't particularly care so long as they don't say anything too embarrassing. 

"He tried to kill me. Well, that's not strictly correct. He was helping a fellow guild member try to bring my bounty in, but the dumbass shot me and went after Mando."

"At your coaxing." Din interrupts, frowning, but Fennec only laughs and shrugs.

"I may or may not have convinced the kid that Mando was worth more of a bounty."

"And you, Cara? What's your story?" Cara perks up beside Boba, nursing her drink and mulling the question over.

"We tried to camp out on the same backwater shithole."

"That's it?" Luke raises a brow and looks at Din. Din shifts in his seat, spinning his cup and shrugging a shoulder. 

"We might have taken down a band of raiders and an AT-ST that was troubling a krill fishing village. The raiders had been stealing the krill to distill their own Spotchka, but were doing a pretty poor job." Cara says, grinning. "There was a lady that was sweet on Din, almost got him to settle down too."

"Omera." Luke says, and both Cara and Din look over to find him smiling, head tipped to the side. "Grogu talked about her and her daughter. He said you liked her too."

"That was- a long time ago." Din isn't quite sure why he's explaining himself, but Luke hums low in his throat. Luke's fingers drum over Din's thigh in a comforting rhythm, even as the rest of the group watch them. 

"If people falling in love with you bothered me I'd have a lot of anger." Din feels his shoulders slumping, relief flooding him, and Luke winks at him before glancing at Cobb. "Now your story, cowboy, I do know."

"Oh ya do? Well, I guess you don't need me to explain then."

"Well, I wouldn't mind hearing your voice." Cobb laughs, shaking his head, and Din rolls his eyes. Cobb swirls his glass, letting the blue liquid inside nearly splash over his fingers. 

"Mando was looking for others of his kind, and I was just about the only fella in armor anyone had heard of. He just about killed me when he saw me in the armor."

"Left it reeking of cologne, too." Boba interrupts, Cobb chuckling and taking a slow sip of his drink. 

"Some of us care about our appearance, big boy." Din wrinkles his nose at the nickname but Boba only rolls his eyes. Din watches Luke's eyes flick back and forth between Cobb and Boba, a smile growing on his face. 

"You lost your armor, and Cobb wore it? Oh, that's fantastic." 

"Temporarily."

"Sorry, not funny. Moving on." Luke definitely isn't sorry, Din can tell by the smile he's struggling to hold back, but Boba only rolls his eyes before motioning for Cobb to continue. 

I traded the armor for his help in taking down the krayt dragon that was plaguing Mos Pelgo.” Luke’s brows go up despite already knowing the story, and he turns his body more toward Cobb, listening. “Din here let himself get eaten to get the cattle loaded with bombs into the damn thing. We lost a bunch of good people in the fight.”

“From the acid. Grogu remembered the smell, and Din covered in it.” Luke’s nose wrinkles remembering that particular memory Grogu had pushed onto him. “You met them all through fighting. Why am I not surprised?”

Din shrugs again, as if it’s the only thing he can do. “That’s how I meet people.”

“What about you, Luke?” Luke turns toward Fennec, who looks like she’s about to make a bad decision. Din sits up, frowning, and tries to silence her with a kick to the shin under the table. She isn’t deterred, and instead jerks her head toward Boba. “You two have history. Did you know Boba was Mando’s best friend?”

“No, I didn’t. But who Din is friends with doesn’t affect me.” Din could kiss him at the smooth, graceful answer, and he kicks Fennec again when she opens her mouth to speak. It still doesn’t stop her.

“How did you and Boba meet?” 

The room goes silent once the question is out, and even Boba has the good sense to look uncomfortable, shifting in his chair as Luke leans forward with singular focus. He braces his elbows on the table, folding his hands under his chin as he levels a long look at Fennec. Din quakes in his chair at the roiling, raging storm that boils under Luke’s skin, so lacking in color or light or anything that Din knows what it is. Recognizes it from the same ugly, sweet pull of the emotions within his blade. 

“Luke-” Din murmurs, trying to draw his attention away. Luke doesn’t seem to hear him.

“He tried to capture me to bring me into the Empire when I went to my mentor’s house. He also captured my brother in law, froze him in carbonite, and nearly killed us when he got him back.” It- doesn't sound like much to half of them sitting at the table, but Din reaches up, touching the soft underside of Luke’s upper arm, trying to draw him from whatever memories have snagged him. “Do you know,” Luke says, voice shaking, “How terrifying it is to fight blind with almost no basic knowledge of how to fight?”

“Not really.” Fennec says softly. Din had blinded her, true, but she was in her prime- untouchable at the time. Luke stares unblinkingly for a moment more before he abruptly stands, turning to Din and dipping down. Din blinks when Luke presses their foreheads together, asking a question, Din nodding when Luke pulls away and slips from the room out into the alley beyond the door. The door seals behind him, beeping as the lock clicks, and Din sits in the middle of his friends, all with varying degrees of confusion and worry on their faces. 

“He needs a minute.”

“I’ve never seen a Jedi get upset like that.” Cara muses, fingers worrying at the decorated bottom of her glass. 

“He’s a person. Everyone gets upset when people don’t know how to stop pushing.” The glare that Din levels on Fennec doesn’t go unnoticed, and she grimaces, slumping back in her chair. “He likes you all, and he wants you to like him.”

“Oh, does he? Couldn’t tell.” Fennec mumbles, wincing when Din’s third kick lands harder than all the others. 

“He isn’t going to let you dig up every ghost in his closet, Shand.” Cobb says, glancing toward Din and then toward the door. “We all have things we would rather forget.”

Fennec softens at that, sighing heavily and standing from her chair. Din knows what she’s going to do before she says anything and he holds a hand up to stop her. “Just wait.”

“I was an ass.”

“You were. Now be nice and open the door.” Fennec looks at him, bewildered, but there’s a faint tap on the door and Din hums. Fennec goes to unlock it, stepping back and out of the way as Luke slips past her again. He looks as unruffled as when they first came in, and Din turns in his chair just to watch the muscles in Luke’s thighs shift under the white of his pants. Din leans his head back, anticipating the way that Luke leans down, cupping the back of his neck and smushing his forehead to Din’s helmet. He stays there for a moment, breathing, and Din’s hand comes up to cup Luke’s cheek, not caring that they have an audience. 

“That is weirdly cute. Mando, is that really how you guys kiss?” Din makes a low sound in his throat, something distinctly annoyed, and Cara laughs, Din lingering in the same position for a moment even when Luke pulls away. 

“We just had sex in front of you. Surprise.” Din jerks in his chair, head whipping to stare at Luke, but he’s grinning, brow raised as Cara stares, dumbfounded. She doesn’t know if he’s lying or not, but surprisingly it’s Boba that laughs, deep and from his core, covering his eyes with a hand and leaning back in his chair. Luke’s smile doesn’t dim this time, though something in his eyes flickers momentarily, but then Cobb is laughing too, slapping the table in front of him and rocking back in his chair. Din can hear Fennec snickering behind him, still standing, and Cara’s cheeks flush, outrage and embarrassment twisting her face.

“That is not funny.”

“You’re right, you’re right.” Luke folds his hands in front of him, instantly the picture of a solemn Jedi. It only lasts a second before the facade cracks, Luke’s eyes twinkling with mirth as he snorts, choking back a laugh. Din’s heart soars in his chest at all his friends laughing, at Luke standing tall and proud among them, glowing like the brightest star in Din’s universe. 

[dancingkirby]

Shipping

I’m sorry, but it had to be done.  Do y’all think this would work better as a Short Story, or just a oneshot on its own?  

DAY 1

To celebrate the tenth anniversary of his ascension to the throne, Zuzu and Mai were off on a world tour.  Azula had been left in charge of ruling the country.  While Azula was glad that he was finally realizing that she wasn’t always thinking about world domination all the time, so far her regency had been extremely boring.  Now, she was more than halfway through it, and absolutely nothing of note had happened.  

Today had started out like all the others.  She hadn’t slept great the night before because of the high winds that had battered Capital Island, and they hadn’t ebbed down very much by morning.  She’d had trouble getting her hair to stay in its topknot while training.  But the morning council meeting had proven as tedious as ever.  Azula was paying the exact minimum amount of attention required as the ministers droned on about tax brackets; most of her brain was occupied on what she would have for lunch that day.  Noodles were always nice, but she’d had them for two days in a row now. Anytime she ate any food on multiple consecutive days, there was always the risk of speculation among the courtiers that she might be pregnant.  Never mind that she hadn’t even done any sex acts that could result in pregnancy for years…

The door to the meeting hall abruptly swung open.  An out-of-breath messenger stood in the doorway, blushing deeply as nearly twenty pairs of annoyed eyes scrutinized him.  

“You do realize that you are intruding on a confidential council meeting, correct?” Azula inquired of him.  

“I’m t-terribly sorry, P-princess,” the messenger managed to get out.  “But I was told that this needed your immediate attention.” Could it be…that something interesting was about to occur for a change?

“All right. What is it?” she asked.  At her hand motion, the messenger climbed up to the dais and whispered in Azula’s ear.

“Okay.  I’ll be right there.  We will continue this meeting at a time to be determined later,” Azula stated.

So here she was on a tugboat, looking at the enormous cargo ship that had somehow gotten wedged into the Strait of Azulon.   Azula turned to the old salt who was leading efforts to remove it and said, “Explain.”

“That ship is called the Agni-Given, Princess,” the man said somewhat stiltedly; it appeared that he was trying to rein in a sailor’s natural tendency to use copious foul language.  “It’s one of the largest cargo ships in the world.  Today, it was passing through the strait when the high winds pushed it off-course and into a sandbar.  It also got tangled in some old nets from the Gates. We’ve been trying out dam…darndest to free it, but no luck.”

Azula took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly out of her nose.  “And what have these initial attempts included?”

 “We attached every tugboat in the harbor to it to try to pull it out, but it didn’t work, Princess. That fu…freaking thing is stuck deep into a sandbar.  Next step would be to try to dig it out.”

“Explain how that would be accomplished.”

“Yes…well…”–the old man paused–“We ain’t sure yet, to be honest.  The problem is that the place where the bow is stuck is seventy feet underwater.  All of the excavating machines available were built for use on land.  We was thinking of trying to get some of those new forklifts, try to extend their reach, and bring them out on boats, but…that would take time.”

“Forklifts?  Is that the best you could come up with?” Azula demanded.  She found herself imitating her brother’s famed nose-bridge pinch.  This would not do at all.  She needed an ingenue, someone who could design a whole new kind of machine if need be. And she thought she knew exactly where to find one.  

 DAY 2

It had been the end of a long day, without much progress being made.  Azula was just about to demand that the larger, more comfortable boat they’d made ready for her today take her back to the harbor when, at long last, the other ship that she had been awaiting arrived.  After this watercraft was tethered to hers, a figure came running down the gangplank, arms outstretched.  

“Azula!” Sokka exclaimed.  “How’s it going?  We haven’t seen each other in forever…hey!” His attempts at embracing her had been thwarted by the princess grabbing his shirt at arm’s length.  

“Not in public, remember?!” she hissed.  Then, just as formally as if he were any old dignitary, she added in normal tones, “Councilman Sokka.  It is good to see you here.  I trust that your journey here was uneventful?”

“Yeah, except we had to go around the long way because of…well…that,” Sokka replied, gesturing at the still firmly-entrenched Agni-Given.  “So how do you want me to assist, O Princess?” He did a little bow, and could not quite manage to keep a straight face.  

“Watch it,” Azula reprimanded again.  Whenever they encountered each other, she always needed to remind him that their relationship was a melding of intellects and occasionally flesh; romance had absolutely no place in it.  

“I recall that you designed a vehicle that could travel underwater,” she explained.  “Would it be possible to modify this concept and attach equipment for shoveling?  Or perhaps even the capacity for finer manipulation to untangle the net remnants?”

Sokka took a few moments to consider as he beheld the enormous ship.  Finally, he replied, “Yeah, I think that’d be possible.  It’ll take a while to draw up plans and get everything built, though.”

“Very well,” Azula told him.  “I suppose we shall have to simply endure each other’s company for a little longer.”

“’Endure?’  Is that what they’re calling it these days?” Sokka gave a wink that was obviously meant to be seductive, but in fact only made him look ridiculous.  Azula elbowed him in the ribs.

They did, in fact, end up fucking that night, after Sokka had eaten what seemed to be about half of the palace’s food supply for dinner.  They hadn’t seen each other in more than three years, and Azula was scrupulous about taking her contraceptive tea, so why not?

Sokka tried to kiss Azula after, but she didn’t let him.

DAY 3

Zuko had sent a message asking if he should cut his celebratory tour short and come home to help with this problem, but Azula quickly scribbled out a reply that they had everything under control.  

Today was the day that Sokka would first meet with the team of engineers assigned to resolve this problem.  

“And I’m sure that all of you will give him the respect that he deserves,” Azula told them in the most pleasant voice she could manage.  Some of them were obviously pissy about being forced to consult with a man who was half most of their ages.  Well, too bad.  Anyone who tried to ignore him would be upbraided with the utmost harshness personally by her.

DAY 10          

The manufacturing process had begun.  Sokka informed her that he had dubbed this new invention the “shovelmarine.”  He did not attempt to conceal his sheer glee at this horrible pun.  Azula threw a pillow at him.  

While the two of them worked by day and screwed by night, things were starting to get out of hand in the Harbor District.  The plight of the Agni-Given had captured the imagination of the public, and kiosks had sprouted all over the piers selling miniature models of the grounded ship. It seemed that every single street musician in the city had composed his or her own ballad about the situation.  Fan magazines had been established simply for the purpose of publishing the flood of stories and art that the more creatively-minded citizens had concocted.  Azula had gotten a hand on one of these volumes, and her favorite story was a somewhat graphic recounting of a speculated liaison between the Agni-Given and the statue of her grandfather.  Apparently, the statue was the dominant partner in this relationship…just as it should be.

This magazine had also included a drawing depicting her own activities with Sokka.  She knew that she should be furious about this; that the culprit should be tracked down and executed, but she found it just too amusing.  The picture was even surprisingly accurate, except that Azula had not actually handcuffed Sokka to her bedpost.  They had improvised with the sash from her nightrobe instead.  

DAY 16

“Okay, lets see what these shovelmarines can do!” Sokka said as the contraptions touched the open ocean for the first time.  The two of them watched from the boat that was by now almost as familiar to Azula as her own suite of rooms at the palace were.  

As it turned out, the shovelmarines (Azula had grudgingly accepted this terrible name) could do quite a bit.  Over the next several days, they worked steadily at the problem.  Finally, three weeks to the day after the Agni-Given had first gotten stuck, it once again floated freely, although it would be have to be drydocked to repair all the damage.  

In his excitement, Sokka had tried to kiss Azula.  She had initially resisted, but he had used his ultimate weapon: polar bear dog eyes.

“All right, but only once.  And on the cheek,” she cautioned him.  

DAY 25

Sokka had departed two days ago, and Azula hoped that he wouldn’t try to send love letters or anything stupid like that.  He should know how it worked by now.  Whenever they happened to meet, they would rekindle their affair for the duration of the visit, and then they went their separate ways until their next encounter. Of course, they wouldn’t be able to keep this up forever, but it would be fun while it lasted.  

And today…Zuzu and Mai made their triumphant return from their tour.

“Wow,” said Zuko as the two of them stood at the harbor, observing as the last of the debris was carried away.  “You and Sokka took care of that whole mess all on your own!  Thank you, Azula.”  At this point, he obviously knew from experience not to make any comments about her relationship with the nonbender.

“Why do you sound so surprised, brother?” Azula asked, turning toward him and raising an eyebrow. “It’s almost like I am, in fact, a competent ruler and don’t spend all of my days dreaming of bloodshed and destruction!  Who would have ever guessed?”

“That’s not what…” Zuko began, but he could say no more as Azula caught him by surprise, got him in a headlock, and began inflicting a merciless noogie on him.  

“Admit it, Zuko,” she crowed.  “I’m awesome!”

“Okay, I surrender!” he squeaked out.  “You’re awesome.”

She released him. “There.  That wasn’t so hard, now, was it?  Now let’s go get some ice cream.”

And so they did.

[sterek-bingo]

Greetings everyone, it's finally time to announce this year's themes!! We're sorry for the delay, but here they are!

Childhood friends- A trope that could easily be one of the fluffiest or one of the angstiest- not to mention anything and everything in between- this AU asks you to imagine how Derek and Stiles may have formed their relationship if they had known eachother as kids, ofcourse it doesn't have to be strictly AU, it isn't impossible that they knew eachother as kids to some extent!

Nightclub- Ah nightclubs, from The Jungle to The Bronze to The Scratching Post to Le Bon Nuit, it seems like every teen show has a popular town nightclub, and though you don't have to use the ones that have appeared in Teen Wolf, as long as there's music, dancing, and teenagers, you're probably good to go!

Pirate- Argh matey! Are you ready for high stakes and high seas? For treasure hunting, sword fighting, and answering the calls of sirens and merfolk? Then climb on aboard, for it's a pirate's life for us!

Rivals- The best thing about rivalry is that it can happen with anything! Sports, academics, baking, rival Alphas, rival covens, rival love interests.... or love interests who are rivals, wich is exactly what we're going for here!

Neighbors- And then they were neighbors... one of the most popular tropes in history, it's time to put Stiles and Derek in a neighboring situation! Apartments, condos, houses- AUs, canon compliant, canon divergent- fluffy, angsty, rom-commy, it doesn't matter the details, this trope can work for any plot!

Medieval- The days of kings and queens, knights and dragons, action and adventure, it's time to go back in time to place our favorite duo in the middle ages! ...Or you could always just place them at Medevil Times too!

Fake relationship- One of the most popular tropes, fake relationships can come about via all sorts of plots, from A/B/O to fluff to office AUs to even canon, and the best part of fake relationships? Watching them become REAL relationships!

Mistaken identity- An especially good theme for humor, "mistaken identity" can span quite a few different plot types, plot twists, and

Pride- From LGBTQ+ pride to pride in eachother to werewolf pride to pride as a sin, this theme is quite versatile and can either be seen as something to be celebrated or condemned depending on how it's portrayed

AI- Artificial Intellegence has been a hot topic of conversation as well as fiction over the past few years, and now it's time to Sterek-fy it! There are so many possibilities- Scientist? Mechanic? Engineer? Are AIs evil? Are Stiles and Derek AIs? All that matters is that artificial intellegence is included!

Arranged Marriage- Be it for politics, for status, or just for the sake of trying to find that special someone when no one seems to be working out, arranged marriage is an age-old plot that's been around probably as long as fanfiction has, if not longer!

Matchmaking- Here's a theme that's quite versatile, as you can either have Stiles and Derek as the matchmakers or as the match being made! From fluff to A/B/O to romcoms or even angst, this is a theme that really branches out over genres!

Full shift werewolves- One of my favorite thing about Teen Wolf, full-shift werewolves provide interesting additions to the lore, excellent plot material, and perhaps best of all... a REALLY nice aesthetic!

Self-Defense- Be it taking a self-defense class, killing in self defense, or defending against a bully, there are plenty of ways to turn this theme into something fun and unique

De-aged- What happens in fanfic... clearly doesn't stay in fanfic considering this trope made it all the way to being part of canon, but that's more than fine, it just give us more material to work with if you ask me!

Penpal- Be it writing to eachother or writing to someone else, be it online or through mail, in a modern AU or one taking place in the past, penpals are a great form of communication and some truly magnificent romantic plots can stem from this theme!

Wedding- Is there anything more romantic than a wedding? That depends on who you ask, but one thing is certain, it's definitely a fun theme! It could be Stiles and Derek's wedding, or it could be just one that they're attending, all that matters for this theme is that a wedding is involved in some context

Seasons- Spring, summer, fall, and winter, the four seasons often make for great themes, and now you have the choice to use any one you want- or several! You could even go for something that involves all four of them, whatever you create, it's sure to be a thing of natural beauty!

Baking- No matter if you have a sweet tooth, or are a bigger fan of savory goods like garlic bread, everyone loves a good baked good, and now is your chance to explore what kind Stiles and Derek love most! This is an especially good opportunity for fluff and the more light-hearted creations, though it certainly doesn't have to be

Petnames- From classics like "honey" and "sweetie" to the stranger sort like "creature" and "Wolfy McFlufferson", petnames are affectionate, fun, and definitely good material to work with, especially with Stiles who has a petname for everyone, although maybe that just makes it even more fun for Derek to use them for once....

Madness- We’re all mad here... madness, insanity, a loss of the mind, they’re all the same thing, and have all been frequently featured in Teen Wolf, no matter if you take inspiration from one of the many instances of madness from canon or create something brand new, your work is sure to be maddeningly good

Insomnia- Insomnia is another frequent theme in canon, and it’s something that Stiles experiences often, you can play upon that in your work, or perhaps give Derek the sleepless nights, or even get creative and use the theme of insomnia for someone else and in some other way, we just hope creating for it won’t keep you up at night

Reconnection- Stiles and Derek have a series-long history of playing into the old romantic trope of spending a fair deal of time apart before reconnecting in a dramatic reunion, and now is your chance to add onto that history! Ofcourse it doesn’t have to be the lovebirds that reconnect, you can go wild with any ideas you want to use, just so long as Stiles and Derek remain the focus

Travel- Roadtrips, train rides, and international flights, what could be simultaneously more romantic and absolutely irritating than travel? There are dozens of possibilities just for the method, not to mention the reasoning, so the diversity of this one will really be a blast to play with!

Hollywood- Ah Hollywood, the city of shining stars and twinkling lights, and, atleast for the purpose of this theme, Stiles and Derek! Now is your chance to run wild with the glitz and glamor of the film capital of the world!

Mad science- From Frankenstein to Dr. Jekyll & Mr. Hyde, from bringing people back to life to creating experimental drugs, there are alot of ways to use “mad science” as a theme, is it dark? Is it crazy? Is it evil? Or is it something... else? There’s no way to do this one wrong!

Fashion- Arguably one of the biggest categories of fandom, fashion can be whatever you want it to be! Show staples like Derek’s leather jacket and Stiles’ plaid, dressing to the nines in suits and tuxes, playing with gender non-conformity with heels and skirts, or just going wild with whatever else you feel like, even a fashion disaster can work for this theme!

Overworked- A feeling that’s overcoming most people these days, being overworked is something I’m sure neither of our favorite boys are strangers to, now it’s up to you, will you give them a break? Or choose to keep working them into angst? It’s up to you!

Ice- Ice ice baby! Be it ice skating, ice on the road, ice powers, or even just ice cubes, there are alot of things you can do with this cool theme and we look forward to all of them!

Turning- Stiles is a blank slate for supernaturalism, and that makes him a perfect person to use for this theme (though obviously using Derek is just as acceptable) but what does he turn into? A werewolf? A vampire? An abominable snowman? We can’t wait to find out!

Wild card- This is the obligatory bingo square in the very middle where you can do absolutely anything you want! That’s right. There’s no restriction, no guideline, no THEME! It’s your freebie to do anything you may have been wanting to do, but haven’t really had the time or inspiration to do until now- here’s your chance. Now go forth and create Sterek!

[anjumkhanna]

Anjum Khanna - Top 10 best places to visit in USA

I'm Anjum Khanna from India and I will share with you my best places in the USA where I visited. Pleasing Planet's movement specialists have scoured the States to present to you our main 10 underestimated, restored and incredible spots to visit in 2020. From normal marvels to enrapturing coastlines and exceptional urban areas, these objections guarantee enormous things this year.

1. California’s Redwood Coast

Lose all track of time (and cell signal) along California's Redwood Coast. Film buffs may perceive the district's scene-taking sceneries from Hollywood blockbusters like Jurassic Park, E.T. furthermore, Star Wars. In any case, the full marvel of California's 2000-year-old redwoods – some arriving at 20 stories high – is difficult to catch on any screen. Gaze toward the woodland shelter: that last 100ft of redwood development marks a long time since Redwood National Park was built up in California's tree-embracing win over logging. What's more, this year, in the festivity of their 100th commemoration, Save the Redwoods League is without offering passage to more than 40 redwood state stops each second Saturday of every month.

In 2020, another sort of greenery has been standing out as truly newsworthy as California presents the state-wide legitimization of pot. However, the draws of the Redwood Coast far outperform changes in this industry, welcoming explorers to accomplish a definitive California smooth with its peculiar shops, brewpubs, espresso roasters and calm cheerful hours.

2. Boise, Idaho 

Home to a lively expressions network, a blast of grant winning wineries and specialty bottling works and a socially dependable shopping locale, Boise is what cool resembles before the remainder of the world has made sense of it. Fun celebrations have large amounts of Idaho's capital from downtown's Treefort Music Festival (hailed as the new option in contrast to SXSW) to the Boise Brew Olympics and Punk in Drublic – a lovely marriage of underground rock and specialty lager. 

Being in closeness to an abundance of characteristic wealth, metropolitan experiences effectively progress into outside departures. Wander through the Boise River Greenbelt, a 25-mile park in the core of the city, or head into the encompassing mountains and lower regions for climbing, mountain biking, skiing and stream boating.

3. Chattanooga, Tennessee

When minimal in excess of a refueling break among Atlanta and Nashville, the nature-driven 'Noog has changed itself into a stronghold of raised Southern living. Outside lovers rush to Chattanooga for the absolute best stone moving in the nation, bunch climbing and mountain biking trails and wild rides on the Ocoee River – one of America's best positions for whitewater boating. 

Foodies, hopheads and nerds aren't a long ways behind, either. Chattanooga's revived midtown – focused on the $20-million makeover of the city's unique train station into a multi-reason nightlife and diversion objective (counting a top notch guitar historical center) – is overflowing with journey commendable New Southern food, refreshing distilleries and nerd satisfying web speeds. Meet the New South!

4. Florida’s Space Coast

Space the travel industry is a rising star, with 2018 set to check the dispatch of the world's first lunar the travel industry departure from SpaceX. Try not to need to lose your life reserve funds down a dark gap? Visit the following best thing, Florida's Space Coast: home to the Kennedy Space Center and the setting for innumerable notable dispatches including Apollo 8 – the world's previously monitored rocket to circle the moon – which praises a long time since launch in 2020. 

View satellite dispatches from Cape Canaveral and Titusville or visit the new ATX (Astronaut Training Experience) at the Kennedy Space Center, where wannabe space travelers can go on a mimicked mission to Mars. Proceed your amazing experiences with an evening time kayak in the bioluminescent waters around Merritt Island and watch settling ocean turtles on an eco-accommodating visit.

5. Cincinnati, Ohio Set among steep slopes with the scaffold throne Ohio River swashing its edge, Cincinnati has consistently been a looker. Presently brew, expressions and clever neighborhood advancement are giving it some strut. The new Brewing Heritage Trail recounts the larger story: how Cincy was a main maker through the last part of the 1800s, its residents swallowing 2.5 occasions the public normal. Today Rhinegeist and other present day lager producers have assumed control over the relinquished distilleries, a considerable lot of which are walkable in Over-the-Rhine, an old German neighborhood of lavish block structures, new restaurants and crazy shops. 

2020 invites another section for the city's creative symbols as the Music Hall commends its 140th birthday celebration subsequent to going through enormous redesigns, and the Cincinnati Shakespeare Company subsides into their new powerful exhibition space.

6. Midcoast, Maine

Single word says everything: 'Ayuh'. What could be compared to 'mm-hm', it's Mainers' typically eccentric and unassuming go-to answer. Is it valid, you solicit, that about 90% of Maine is forested (the most noteworthy level of any state), making it ideal for experience exercises and getting away from traveler swarms? Ayuh. Also, what about Midcoast Maine's wonderful sea exhibition halls and detonating foodie scene of art bottling works, neighborhood grape plantations and gourmet ranch-to-table cafés? It's not the tranquil woodlands it used to be. Ayuh. Indeed, 2018 will check the area's 70th Maine Lobster Festival and a transitioning as an inexorably energizing social focus of elite workmanship historical centers and exhibitions, isn't that so? Ayuh.

7. Richmond, Virginia

River City has flipped from modest to occurring, however the 'hello you all' friendliness remains. Scott's Addition, when an abrasive assembling region, drones with microbreweries, cideries and buzzworthy cafés, while the James River baits swashbucklers with whitewater rapids in addition to another 52-mile bicycle trail along its banks. 

Creative features incorporate midtown's splendid wall paintings, the eccentric Quirk Hotel (highlighting interesting plan components and its own craft display) and imaginative transitory shows at the Virginia Museum of Fine Arts. The American Civil War Museum – an ongoing solidification of three separate Civil War locales – investigates Richmond's function as the capital of the Confederacy. One consistent? Patrick Henry requested freedom or demise at reenactments each Sunday in summer at St John's Church.

8. Kentucky Bourbon Country The territory of Kentucky is known for its moving slopes finished off with masterful pony cultivates, its wild commitment to school ball and, above all, its whiskey. The state's refining legacy runs profound, and those searching for a taste should make a beeline for Kentucky Bourbon Country, the brilliant triangle between Louisville, Lexington and Elizabethtown where this prepared soul becomes animated. You'll locate a luring organization of the nation's most notable refineries and first class eateries with whiskey motivated menus. 

Yet, this industry isn't so saturated with custom that it overlooks progress – create distillers are opening their entryways, long dead whiskey locale are being rejuvenated, and in 2020 the Frazier Museum will be named the official beginning stage of the Kentucky Bourbon Trail.

9. Minneapolis, Minnesota

In spite of arriving on arrangements of 'generally moderate' and 'generally reasonable' urban areas – and in a state positioned the USA's most joyful – Minneapolis appears to be a piece overlooked. In any case, after its chance at the center of attention during the current year's Super Bowl, that could very well change. The city endeavored to tidy up for the large occasion, specifically with redesigns to downtown's primary avenue Nicollet Mall presenting awesome light highlights, craftsmanship establishments and creative social spaces. 

The Minneapolis Sculpture Garden likewise got a redo, with 18 new works by well known chiselers. Furthermore, Target Center, the city's NBA and WNBA field, got a fan-accommodating $145 million makeover. In the interim, new boutique inns and present day ranch to-table cafés (hefty on neighborhood fixings) are springing up with cool verve.

10. Southeastern Utah Arches National Park's colorful sandstone ranges. Island in the Sky's Colorado River-cut vistas. Landmark Valley's sky-puncturing towers. Southeast Utah's significant milestones have been firm top picks among voyagers for quite a long time. As of late, nonetheless, lesser-realized territorial destinations like the forested levels of the new Bears Ears National Monument have become hot-button news things because of political tussles in Washington, DC over securing characteristic and social assets. 

This tremendous quarter of the Beehive State holds numerous outstanding outside objections, from the lodging filled experience town of Moab and uncrowded Capitol Reef to the environmental Ancestral Puebloan vestiges of Hovenweep. Water has slashed the desert scene here, cutting the sandstone into alarming structures, for example, the pleasant Natural Bridges and huge Lake Powell. This is a quintessential Americana excursion nation.

Anjum Khanna launched his career as a freelance illustrator, and this started with covers of paperback books where he developed and displayed his penchant for realistic depictions of fantastic scenery. To achieve this, Anjum often used handmade maquettes and posed models for reference.

About Anjum  Khanna

Those who love fantasy tales and dinosaurs would be great admirers of the works of Anjum Khanna. After all, he's the author of the famous book series about dinosaurs coexisting with humans in a fictional setting. 

[thedollarcrate]

50 Best Albums (That I Own on Vinyl) of the Decade

It’s hard to comprehend how much transpires over the course of a decade or wrap your head around how long (or short) of time that really is.

But what better way to try than to make a list!

Now, I know “Best of” lists like this one are inherently subjective – and probably say more about their maker’s preferences than actually reflecting the best music released in a particular time period. And, I’ll be the first to admit that the list below is incredibly limited, and that I need to widen my exposure to more artists and genres.

But hey, this is all in fun.

So feel free to debate, pick apart or share your own favorite albums from the past decade. But before you dive in, just a few quick points for context:

-I only ranked albums I actually own on vinyl released between 2010 and 2019, which limited my choices to about 170 records.

-I only ranked new music released this past decade, so no reissues or older material released for the first time (sorry Prince’s Piano & A Microphone and Originals).

-I first started buying vinyl around ’09-’10 and started off purchasing mostly new releases before my habits shifted and I started looking for older records. This shows in the list below – nearly a quarter of the albums below were released in 2010 and almost 70% from the first half of the decade.

And we’re off…

50. Centipede Hz, Animal Collective (2012)

Let’s be honest, it was impossible for Animal Collective to top a universally acclaimed and era-defining album – and it was unfair to expect them to. But maybe the continuous onslaught of bizarre and eclectic music found on Centipede Hz was just what we needed after all.

49. Singles, Future Islands (2014)

So much more than Sam Herring’s pelvis busting dance moves and “Seasons (Waiting On You),” every track on Singlesbursts with life and heart pumping  energy. To quote Letterman: I’ll take all of that you got.

48. Paul’s Tomb: A Triumph, Frog Eyes (2010)

I don’t think I’ll ever understand Carey Mercer’s lyrics, but I’m certain I’ll never tire of getting lost in his hidden words and knotty melodies.

47. Leaving Atlanta, Gentleman Jesse (2012)

Thirty seven minutes of Pure Power Pop Perfection (note the capital “Ps”).

46. Burst Apart, The Antlers (2011)

If there’s another album with a song titled “Putting the Dog to Sleep” that is as haunting and beautiful as this one, I don’t want to know about it.

45. Carrion Crawler/The Dream, Thee Oh Sees (2011)

With John Dwyer churning out record after record in the ‘10s, it should come as no surprise that at least one landed on this list (and they’re all great). Garage rock. Surf rock. Post-punk rock. Psych rock. Noise rock. Rock rock. I don’t care what you call it, Thee Oh Sees put the pedal to the metal on Carrion Crawler/The Dream, taking you for a wild ride that never lets up.

44. 1989, Taylor Swift (2014)

Irresistibly catchy, everyone needs to satisfy their pop sweet tooth every now and then. 1989 is so sugary, it might just give you a cavity or two.

43. City Music, Kevin Morby (2017)

The city. The countryside. A beach. Aboard a train. At the pearly gates. It doesn’t matter where you listen to City Music because Kevin Morby’s jams will immediately transport you to your own laid back, happy place.

42. Remind Me Tomorrow, Sharon Van Etten (2019)

You’ll regret it if you keep waiting to listen this powerhouse – and powerful – synth-soaked record.

41. You Want It Darker, Leonard Cohen (2016)

It doesn’t get much darker, bleaker or sparse than this, but I wouldn’t want it any other way from the masterful Leonard Cohen.

40. American Dream, LCD Soundsystem (2017)

Retirement never sounded so good.

39. Capacity, Big Thief (2017)

Quietly captivating, mesmerizing and elegant, Big Thief knock you out without you even realizing it.

38. St. Vincent, St. Vincent (2014)

Annie Clark’s shapeshifting album won’t only shred your face off, it somehow makes you feel smarter, too.

37. Before Today, Ariel Pink's Haunted Graffiti (2010)

So, so weird and so, so good.

36. Expo 86, Wolf Parade (2010)

Like #50, Wolf Parade might always live in the shadow and expectations of a towering classic, yet somehow Spencer Krug and Dan Boeckner still continually craft eccentric and bombastic rock albums. Expo 86 is no exception, and it is an underrated classic in its own right.

35. Golden Hour, Kacey Musgraves (2018)

Like a sunset or sunrise, Golden Hour radiates beauty and warmth with each of its glowing tracks.

34. Yuck, Yuck (2011)

Despite their name and its hideous album cover, there’s nothing gross about Yuck’s infectious indie rock.

33. Play It Strange, The Fresh & Onlys (2010)

I once saw The Fresh & Onlys play at a tiny club in D.C. It might’ve been the loudest show I’ve ever been to – my ears rang for days. This record is just as rollicking, hazy and good as that show was loud.

32. Natalie Prass, Natalie Prass (2015)

There’s a reason “Welcome to 1979” is stamped in tiny letters on this vinyl’s inner ring – it’s silky smooth, filled with impeccable soft ballads and finely tuned jams – and just a tinge of funk.

31. I Am Easy To Find, The National (2019)

Few bands matched the consistent output of quality albums in the ‘10s as The National. They had one heck of a run, and I Am Easy To Find was a fascinating way to end it – a 21st rock album that felt more complex and expansive than anything they’d done before.

30. Melodrama, Lorde (2018)

Everything a pop record should be and then some – bold, breathtaking and exuberant.

29. Just Enough Hip To Be Woman, Broncho (2014)

If you can’t tell from its playful title, this pop rock album wants nothing more than to have fun – and it succeeds on every level.

28. Avi Buffalo, Avi Buffalo (2010)

Sometimes all you want is a light, sunny and meandering album to wash over you and get lost in, and this one will do the trick every time.

27. Hippies, Harlem (2010)

Imagine a band practicing inside a garage inside a garage inside another garage and you’ve got Harlem. This is garage rock to the max – and at its rambunctious best.

26. Puberty 2, Mitski (2016)

It’s hard to describe Puberty 2. Sure, it might sound like simple dreamy indie rock, but it ebbs and flows in unexpected ways that leaves you guessing where it’s heading next.

25. mbv, My Bloody Valentine (2013)

Picking up right where they left off – even if it was more than a decade later – My Bloody Valentine reminded everyone why they are the masters of reverb soaked shoegaze.

24. A Moon Shaped Pool, Radiohead (2016)

Even after all these years and albums, Radiohead still found a way to reinvent themselves and push the boundaries of rock music – and our expectations of them. With gorgeous arrangements and slow-burning, tension filled tracks, AMSP proves that even Radiohead can still take risks – and proves rock bands can make quiet, intimate songs sound epic. Oh yeah, and it has “True Love Waits.”

23. Art Angels, Grimes (2015)

Grimes gave us the future of pop music before most could even envision it. This laid the groundwork for all the challenging and intricate – and danceable – pop music that would follow. And it still sounds ahead of its time.

22. Meet Me At The Muster Station, PS I Love You (2010)

The first sounds out of Paul Saulnier’s mouth on Meet Me At The Munster Station aren’t words at all but two short, ecstatic yelps. And this same boundless energy and passion bleeds through on every fuzzy, raucous second of every track. Did I mention there’s a song called “Butterflies & Boners”?

21. More Than Any Other Day, Ought (2014)

You really ought to listen to Ought if you aren’t already. Tim Darcy and co. sound a bit uneasy, paranoid and self-aware, but they make the most minute challenges sound so exhilarating and life-altering – even the struggle deciding between two percent and whole milk at the grocery store.

20. Lemonade, Beyoncé (2017)

All hail Queen Bey.

19. Twin-Hand Movement, Lower Dens (2010)

This album sounds like 2 am on a dark, rainy Saturday night – in the best way imaginable.

18. Tomboy, Panda Bear (2011)

You can always count on Panda Bear to make hypnotic, loopy electronic music sound so breezy and effortless.

17. Modern Vampires Of The City, Vampire Weekend (2013)

I don’t know why, but I want to dislike Vampire Weekend so much. But that’s impossible when their music is so damn good and every note sounds so neat and perfect.

16. Past Life Martyred Saints, EMA (2011)

Just do yourself and listen to this album please.

15. The Archandroid, Janelle Monáe (2010)

Blending too many genres to count, this is what I imagine music sounds like in space.

14. Carrie & Lowell, Sufjan Stevens (2015)

I’ll let you know how I feel about this one after I stop crying.

13. The Suburbs, Arcade Fire (2010)

It’s everything you either love or hate about Arcade Fire. Grand, sincere and sweeping rock that swings for the fences with every guitar chord, drumbeat and horn blast. I love it.

12. Silence Yourself, Savages (2013)

Savages grab you by the throat and never let go – this is one intense album.

11. Helplessness Blues, Fleet Foxes (2011)

This might be the epitome of ‘10s indie rock – and for good reason. Introspective, sensitive and searching for some greater meaning, Robin Pecknold holds nothing back and lays it all out on Helplessness Blues.

10. Kaputt, Destroyer (2011)

Dan Bejar is an enigma and seemingly reluctant rock star. I saw him perform an acoustic set where he spent a majority of the time playing with his back towards the audience (although in fairness, it was at a free outdoor show on a college campus with people mostly chatting obnoxiously over him), and yet it’s as if his creativity requires him to constantly release new albums and show them off. Kaputt is as equally strange and mysterious – and just as creative – as its maker.

9. Black Star, David Bowie (2016)

Take away the heartbreaking circumstances surrounding this album’s release and it would still be in the top tier of David Bowie’s extensive catalogue. Experimenting until the very end, Bowie morphed into something entirely new one last time. Part jazz, part rock and part I’m not sure what you would call it, the results were once again out of this world. He couldn’t give it all away, but we’re sure thankful for what he could.

8. Bon Iver, Bon Iver (2011)

Shedding the cabin in the woods vibe, Justin Vernon took a giant leap forward with Bon Iver and made ‘80s soft rock popular.

7. Celebration Rock, Japandroids (2012)

Perhaps the most aptly named album on this list, no other album exudes the joy of making music and rocking out with your buddy than this one. It’s hard to believe all that noise and energy comes from just two people.

6. Burn Your Fire For No Witness, Angel Olsen (2014)

Angel Olsen’s hypnotic and seductive vocals, lyrics and guitar suck you in immediately, mesmerizing you from the first gentle strums to the peaks and valleys of “Lights Out” and “Stars” all the way to the closer’s pulsing drumbeats and majestic piano.

5. Black Messiah, D'Angelo And The Vanguard (2015)

Oozing with cool, sexy and confident R&B funk, D’Angelo returned after 14 years with an instant soul masterpiece.

4. The Monitor, Titus Andronicus (2010)

It says a lot when a band can a.) make an hour plus punk rock record b.) loosely base it on the Civil War c.) quote Abraham Lincoln d.) close it out with a 14 minute track inspired by a famous naval battle and e.) still make you want to listen to it over and over and over again.

3. Lost In The Dream, The War On Drugs (2014)

The rare album that can feel vast and ambitious and yet deeply private and personal all at once. You really will get lost in these soaring songs.

2. Halcyon Digest, Deerhunter (2010)

At times perfectly melodic and structured and at others feeling on the brink of falling apart, Halcyon Digest is a paradox – sounding peaceful, bright and idyllic while also peering over the edge into something darker. This is a remarkable record from a remarkable band. If not for the abrupt end to the darkly beautiful closer “He Would Have Laughed,” Halcyon Digest sounds like it could go on forever.

1. Let England Shake, PJ Harvey (2011)

A stunning, thought-provoking, and moving – not to mention endlessly listenable – transcendent piece of art about life and the Great War. PJ Harvey doesn’t hold back on the brutality and absurdity of armed conflict, and the album’s devastating closing track – “The Colour of the Earth” – will linger in your mind long after the record stops spinning. As powerful today as it was eight years ago, this album will remain timely and important for years – and decades – to come.

[sashatrr]

Breathe with me. Chapter 16a

Chapter 15 here

Liam's jet landed in private section of airport. Holding hands, they left jet and got into waiting car. 

-So where are we? - Lina asked. She asked Liam about where they were going a few times during a flight but he said that she will find out upon arrival. 

-Where do you think we are? - Liam asked with teasing smile. 

Lina shrugged. 

-How should I know? All airports are looking the same. 

-We are in Brussels. - Liam said pulling her close. 

-Belgium? - Lina asked disappointed. She thought that he will take her to Paris or Italy. Both countries fitted for romantic trip, but Belgium? She didn't know much about that country and couldn't recall anything romantic about it. 

Liam nodded with a smile, her reaction didn't surprise him. 

-Yes, but we are not staying in Brussels. We will drive to Antwerp from here. It's not far. 

-I know nothing about Belgium so I trust you with it. 

Rest of not long drive passed in comfortable conversation. Liam was telling Lina about his childhood and his brother, Leo. 

He was getting relaxed more and more around Lina now. For once he felt like a normal man doing normal things with the woman he loved, even if he wasn't ready to admit it to her. He was really excited to spend as much time as he could with her and to forget, at least for some time, about everything that would come after the end of his so called honeymoon. 

Upon arriving to the hotel, they ordered a room service, both exhausted after a long flight. Lina was nervous during all flight, expecting plane to crash any moment and Liam was doing his best to calm her down and distract from those thoughts. After dinner both quickly fell asleep in each others arms. 

Next morning they woke up early and after breakfast left the hotel. Liam was wearing sunglasses everywhere to make sure that nobody would recognize him. 

First they visited an old looking train station. It didn't really interest Lina. It was nice looking, gold and marble but Lina was never into architecture. Noticing her indifference, Liam laughed. 

-Just had to start here. No trip to Antwerp is complete without seeing this building. 

Holding hands, they left the building and headed to a stone gates. Next seven hours they spent investigating the oldest zoo in Europe. It made Lina sick to see all those animals trapped, even tho their voliers were comfortable and they seemed to be well taken care of. 

-Nope, not doing this.-Lina shook her head trying to break out of Liam's hold. - I am already exhausted, I need coffee and to sit down. 

Liam was trying to get in the long line of people wanting to watch seals show. 

They headed to the exit and to the street filled with jewellery shops and sat at the table of closest cafe. 

-Just one more destination today, baby.

Liam saw it in her behavior, he failed to impress her so far so he was counting on new promising idea that appeared in his mind. 

After finishing their coffees, Liam lead Lina to the golden entrance of jewellery store. 

-Did you know that Antwerp is a diamond capital of the world? - Liam asked walking through doors into the store. - We can visit diamond museum tomorrow if you want. 

-I don't think that I ever heard about Antwerp at all, Liam. - Lina chuckled.-To be honest, I pictured other destinations when you offered trip to Europe. 

-Paris and Venice? - He asked stopping by one of showcases. 

Lina nodded and looked at showcase that was filled with necklaces and matching earrings. 

A man hurried over to them. 

-Goedemiddag. Kan ik u helpen?-a man asked subtly observing Liam to see if he was a potential client or just a tourist who happened to walk into the store. 

-Goedemiddag. - Liam replied. - Can we speak English please? A lady here with me doesn't speak vlaams. 

Man's smile grew even wider. 

-Off course. Let me know if you are looking for anything special. Not everything is on a display. We keep the most precious masterpieces in the office.-salesman said after noticing Liam's Patek Philippe. 

Despite Liam's attempt to look like a normal tourist, some things were still giving away his true status. 

-Danku, meneer. We will let you know if we need you.-Liam dismissed him and turned his attention back to Lina who seemed to be captivated by the beauty of platinum diamond necklace and earrings and didn't hear a word from this conversation. 

-Do you like this one? - Liam asked leaning  closer to check the stones. 

Not averting her gaze from necklace, Lina slid her hand down the  glass. 

-It's beautiful-she replied admiring the purity and simple elegance of it. 

-Then we are getting it, but I would also like to check their office for more exclusive things.

-Are you going to buy it? - Lina gasped in surprise. 

-Off course, why else would we come here? I would walk to the end of the world and back right now to make you happy.-he said and placed a gentle kiss on Lina's lips. 

Lina returned a kiss wrapping hands around his neck. 

-Well, then you need to find another way to make me happy. I can't wear any jewellery. 

Liam pulled back confused. 

-What do you mean? Off course you can.

Lina laughed. 

-No, I can't. I did it back in New York because I didn't want to ruin our night, but I have an ekzema. My skin was dealing with the consequences of it for next weeks. 

-Eczema? What's that? - confused Liam asked.

-I am not sure how to explain it. It's kind of allergy, I get it every time when my skin gets in contact with any metal for longer than twenty minutes. That includes gold, silver and platinum. 

-You can't be real, Lin. Is there no cure for it? I mean how am I supposed to spoil you if you are allergic to eighty eight percent of the best gifts I can come up with? - Liam made disappointed face. 

-You'll have to be creative then. - Lina laughed teasingly.

-You are just making it up, admit it. - His face became grumpy. 

-No, I am not. I promise you. 

-We still can get it and you can look at it sometimes? - Liam came up with new idea. 

-Really? What's the use of having it if I will never put it on? Sounds like a torture.-Lina took his hand, nodded to salesman and dragged him to the street. 

She didn't lie to Liam about eczema and right now she was grateful for having it. Despite growing closer with each other over past few days, Liam's lifestyle was intimidating to her. Traveling in private jet, luxurious cars and hotels and now diamonds. None of the things on display had a price tag but Lina knew that she would probably have to save for the rest of her life just to buy one earring from that set and she wasn't comfortable with this idea.Everything seemed to much, she couldn't explain it but she felt that sooner or later Liam would think that she is being with him for all that and not for himself. 

I never asked for any of it but I know how does it look. I wish he would stop doing this. It just highlights the fact that we belong to different worlds. Maybe I should be honest about it? 

Rest of the day they spent in the hotel learning more about each other's lives. Liam told Lina about death of his mother and lack of real family in his life, about very busy father who rarely had time for him and his brother. Lina told him about death of her parents in car accident when she was only three years old and about growing up with her aunt and uncle. They didn't have kids of their own and pour all love they had on Lina. She had a happy childhood any kid could dream about, her aunt and uncle made sure to give her all attention they could and did everything possible to replace her parents. Despite being very close with them, Lina refused to live with them after college or to accept any financial help. They did enough for her including paying for her education and making sure that she has everything she needs during college years. Accepting their help after college would make her a failure. 

Next day they spent exploring rest of the city center. They spent a few hours in Rubens House. Only there Lina understood a difference between looking at reproductions and originals. 

-Look at this. - Lina pointed at the painting  that was hanging over an old fireplace that was used for kitchen needs back in the days. - It looks like 3d. How were they doing back then? And the lights!- only now she understood how touching and amazing a painting can be. No reproductions could ever show the true genius of a master, and certainly not images she could see on Internet. 

On the second floor Lina spent twenty minutes by another painting that was picturing Queen Isabella and Ferdinand during their daily walk. Everything on it was very small but every small thing was drawn very detailed.

-How did they do it?-Lina asked again. - Did they use microscopes? Did they even exist back then? Really, I would go blind just after drawing half of it. 

Liam tried to explain her the technics of old masters but her attention already was on antique locker, every small door of which was beautifully painted with scenes from nature. 

In the next room there was a very small bed, draped with canopy. 

-See this? - Liam pointed at bed. - That's how they slept back then. 

Confused Lina looked at very short bed. 

-But how did they manage to lay in it? 

-They didn't lay, they were half sitting in it. See bunch of pillows? They literally slept sitting in bed and resting on those.-he explained. 

-Carving is so pretty. - Lina almost whispered. 

-Rubens was a businessman as much as he was an artist. - Liam explained. - He was a rich man as you can see. Most of the things we see here, in his house, are an art by itself and there was a very small circle of people who could afford them. 

After seeing all expositions, hand in hand they walked in the small garden, Lina snapped a few pictures of Liam and they continued their tour of the city. 

Very narrow sidewalks were filled with tables that were standing very close to each other. Despite lack of space, lots of people were sitting in those cafes, all facing the street and looking at passing by people. They were sitting so close to each other that Lina wondered how they can have any privacy at all. That reminded her of theaters. They all were sitting there like in the theater, almost touching each other, a street was their stage and people who were passing by were their actors. 

Liam and Lina walked through this street and came to the square with a huge, gothic looking church. 

-Onze Lieve Vrouwekathedraal. - Liam pointed at it. - Cathedral of Our Lady of Antwerp. - He explained.- We should definitely go inside. Rubens and a few other famous artists created their masterpieces especially for it. 

They waited for guid of Chinese tourist group to show their tickets and Liam bought two for himself and Lina.

Inside the building seemed even bigger than from outside. Ceiling seemed to be over ten meters in height and the stained glass windows were filling a hall with a lots of light. 

-I wonder how long did it take them to build it? - Lina quietly asked looking up at the ceiling and columns that were holding it. 

-It's still unfinished. - Liam replied. - But normally it took forty years or more to build something like this if we look at Rome for example. 

They walked to a wooden stairs standing apart and leading nowhere. Lina looked closer. It was beautifully carved but a center of composition were four female figures. 

-Those are representing four races.-Liam commented. 

They walked to a huge three pieces paintings hanging on a distance from each other. Even now, centuries after it was created, it didn't lose its beauty.

Cathedral was filled with tourists but a small area behind columns was fenced and a Priest led service for a small group of parishioners. 

Lina was amazed by the beauty of altar and everything else she saw around.

They spent a hour exploring cathedral, statues and paintings until it was a closing time.

They walked through crowded street to the small square surrounded by buildings and sculpture fountain in the corner. 

-This square has a secret. - Liam slyly grinned. - Let's see if you can find it. 

Lina looked around but saw nothing special. A building Infront of her was impressive but still nothing caught her attention. 

Liam stood on the fence of statue and reached his hand out. Lina grabbed it and stood next to him. 

-You might see it better from here. - He grinned again watching her confusion. 

-Would you give me a hint for what I am looking for or are we going to spend rest of the day here? Because I see nothing.-Lina said a bit irritated. She was tired already after whole day of walking and wouldn't mind a dinner right now. She wasn't a best person to be around when she was hungry. 

 - Card suits. - Liam decided to show some mercy remembering how confused he was when he was looking for it for a first time. 

Lina looked around in all dirrctions, at all buildings but saw nothing that would look like card suits. After three minutes of ineffective search she gave up. 

-I see nothing. Can we just get a dinner already? I can survive without finding it.-she almost barked. Her stomach was demanding food and not card suits. 

Liam laughed and wrapped an arm around her waist pointing at tiles on the ground. She saw nothing at first but then one by one groups of tiles formed a heart, diamond, club and spade. 

-Wow, amazing. Now my life is complete. Can we go now? - she got off the fence. 

-Wow you are really hungry, no kidding. OK, let me think where should we have a dinner. I have a restaurant in mind but we need  to change in the hotel first. 

-Yeah, right. - Lina growled, grabbed Liam's hand and drag him to the cafe on the empty narrow street around the corner she noticed on their way to the square. She stopped by one of two cute looking tables under a tent and sat down. - I don't need a fancy restaurant, I just need to urgently fill my stomach. 

Liam shook his head in amusement trying to suppress a smile and not to provoke her. Hungry and angry Lina still was charming. 

A smiling waiter brought them two menus but Liam declined it. 

-Hello-he said-do you have stoverij met frietjes? - he asked with polite smile. 

Waiter nodded. 

-Certainly, meneer. 

-Very well, two stoverijes, Westmalle for me and Delirium for mijn vrouw.-

Waiter nodded and walked back inside. 

-What did you order? Maybe I won't like it. I could honestly go for a burger right now.-Lina snapped. 

-Don't worry, it won't take long. It's one of Belgian national dishes and a cherry beer. You should try it at least once. - He replied 

-What did you call me?-she asked. Lina couldn't repeat it even if her life would depend on that. 

Liam wrinkled his forehead trying to recall his order. 

-Mijn vrouw? - Lina nodded.- It means my woman if to translate it literally, but also has a different meanings. 

Lina pulled a phone out of her bag and opened Facebook. 

-What are you doing, baby?- Liam asked. 

-Checking the news. - Lina replied not averting her gaze from the phone. 

-That's not very polite. I am right here and we could spend this time in conversation. - Liam pointed out. 

-Nope, I need to kill some time and to keep my mind occupied until i have my food. - she said and began to read posts chucking to herself sometimes. 

It was a new experience for Liam. Normally his dates would try to intrigue him and to spend every second charming him. But it was obvious for him that Lina got used to spending her days with him, it became natural for her and to his surprise, it felt natural for him as well. 

Ten minutes later waiter brought them their order and Lina rushed to eat it. 

-Ouch-she swallowed hard a first bite not feeling the taste.-Hoooot.-she moaned waving her hands to cool burned mouth. 

Liam laughed. 

-Slow down, nobody will steal it. - He said dipping a frie into stoverij sauce and sending it to his mouth. 

Lina frowned but slowed down and found herself enjoying taste of the food. After finishing she sipped her beer. 

-That's a good one. - she said relaxing into her chair and making a few more sips of fruity beer.-Can I have another one? 

-Careful, baby. It's called Delirium for a reason. - Liam said with a teasing smile. 

-Nothing will happen from two beers, Liam. 

He ordered another round but even before waiter brought it, Lina felt lightheaded, her head was spinning a bit. She let out a silly chuckle. 

- So good. I was really hungry. 

-Ha, no kidding. I thought that you are going to murder me if I don't  feed you In time. 

Lina finished second beer, her cheeks were burning, eyes shining. She moved her chair to the other side of the  table next to Liam and laid back. Liam rested his arm on the back of her sea and captured her lips with his. 

A kiss was becoming more and more passionate. 

-I want you, now. - she said into his mouth  feeling his erection through pants with her hand. 

Liam growled and abruptly stood up. He took a fifty euro bill out of the wallet, threw it on the table and pulled Lina out of the chair. 

-Hotel, now. - Liam said in low voice dragging her down the street. 

Next chapter

@indiacater @annekebbphotography @drakesensworld @hopefulmoonobject @jared2612 @carabeth @dcbbw

[lunawings]

King of Prism SSS Episode 3 commentary (Taiga)

I am SO RELIEVED that this episode is FINALLY out. 

I finally get to show you guys what the inside of my head has been like for two months. 

THE FESTIVAL THAT HAS BEEN INSIDE ME

GET BUCKLED IN

Taiga’s room is divided into half Kazuki worship, half Aomori. Seems about right.

Let me start off by saying it brings me SO MUCH JOY how much Taiga loves Aomori. Aomori is way far removed from Tokyo, on the northernmost tip of the main island, and pretty much in the countryside. I went there 4-5 years ago before King of Prism existed AND I. LOVED. IT. There was a cool breeze even in the brutal Japanese summer, the atmosphere was refreshing and wonderful... and the festival. Two of the biggest things Aomori is known for are apples and, of course, the Nebuta festival which I’m convinced has to be the best festival in all of Japan. Those giant festival floats are just fucking amazing and I will be inter-splicing this post with my travel photos from that time. 

But even so, I’d think a boy at Taiga’s age would still think Tokyo is a lot cooler and want to be in the big city. BUT NO. NOT TAIGA. And since I also CANNOT FUCKING STAND TOKYO either, every time Taiga in this episode says Aomori is better than Tokyo I just want to stand up and be like 

FUCK YEAH IT IS 

Okay moving on, sorry this post is gonna be long enough as it is. 

When I first heard this line I swore it sounded like he was saying something about “Las Vegas” ahah... ha...

I am very happy with this screenshot. 

*ahem* Anyway. I looked up “rassera” ages ago because I had no idea what that was about and apparently it’s a phrase that lost it’s original meaning over time as it got muddled together, and is now only used as a festival chant. It used to mean “bring out the candles” or something?

The “us” in the sub kind of annoys me because Over the Rainbow isn’t a part of Edel Rose anymore but maybe that’s.... just.... meeeeeeeeee..............

I took the night bus from Tokyo to Aomori before. It was 10 or 11 hours. It was... unpleasant.

Old dude club in the back row.

I really wonder what people who have never seen Pride the Hero are gonna think of this exchange. If you have not seen Pride the Hero, sorry to disappoint you(?) but taxi is actually not a metaphor. 

I wonder if Kakeru would have really kept hounding Taiga if he didn’t pay him back. It’s not like Kakeru needs the money. I think it’s more that Taiga just has his pride and wants to do right by Kakeru and not take advantage of him. Or at least I like thinking that way. 

My second favorite line by Taiga in SSS. 

People at the cheering shows are like “Gimme the apron!!”

No, I have no idea why they decided to design Taiga’s cousin(s) to look like Ann and Wakana. 

My third favorite Taiga line in SSS. I just love how perfect the timing is. Taiga just watches everyone walk past him trying to debate if this is really happening or not and then just HOLD ON WAIT--

Behold Yukinojo examining what I think is supposed to be the armor that made Taiga pee his pants in Young of Prism. This is the Easter egg I was talking about. 

I LOVE OZORA. 

Another great thing about SSS is learning how all of the boys have these amazing female characters in their lives. 

The first/only anime reference to Taiga’s distaste for apples. In side material it’s been explained that Taiga can’t stand apples because they are everywhere in Aomori. Even the sound of someone biting into the skin of an apple drives him nuts. Minato has used it as punishment before in Prism Rush. 

People in the theater like to say “Don’t forget the apple!” 

At the midnight showing I think the girl next to me had a brain aneurysm when she saw Wakana here. And I might of as well. 

At this part I always yell “WAKANA DON’T GO!!!!”

Just.... ahhhhhh Taiga being seamlessly inserted in the Rainbow Live continuity like this is just... kjlfjfkljfls.......

Even though I know in the logical part of my brain that Taiga did not exist when Rainbow Live was made, I still kinda want to go back and look for him in the background of that episode anyway. But I hesitate because I know I won’t want to be disappointed with not finding him. 

Still, the idea that Wanana, Ann, and Kazuki all supposedly knew him from way back when is crazy and makes my heart warm. 

(Oh but WAKANAAAAAAA so sad)

So. “Gaudy” huh. We’re goin’ with that huh. HUH. “Gaudy” I know for a fact is the literal translation you get when you look up “charachara” in a Japanese-English dictionary. I have used it too... AS A PLACEHOLDER....................

Seeing this and trying so hard not to FUCKING SCREAM at the midnight showing was a moment for all of us. Taiga.... Taiga.................. Taigaaaaa................. I can’t see this without feeling it travel through every nerve in my body. 

WakanAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Accurate description of summertime in the countryside of Japan. Everyone hangs out and eats copious amounts of fruit probably from a neighbor’s farm. Just go out and walk down the street and you’ll come home with fruit. 

So this is Aomori city, the area not far from the station. When I saw this in the theater I was like, that looks.... kinda familiar. Then the next day I went searching for photos from my sideblog @mdawnjpn and....

I found this and I just immediately started tearing up, like hand over my mouth trying not to cry on the bullet train from Tokyo back to Nagoya during that first weekend. I was there I WAS THERE. 

So I mentioned previously I got to Aomori after a 10 or 11 hour night bus. And I didn’t sleep for almost any of it because I just can’t sleep on buses. And I felt LIKE. DEATH. But I couldn’t find an internet cafe or anywhere to sleep for a while because Aomori city just doesn’t have a lot of things. So I ended up literally just sleeping on a park bench by the ocean for a couple hours. Like around here.

And I remember seeing them starting to set up the festival when I woke up and being like woooah where am I this is amazing. But.. Just like, since Over the Rainbow performs here every year I guess I must have slept through their show. Oh NOOO ahaha

Anyway

And here it is. My number one favorite Taiga line in SSS. Just like the way he says it

OVER THE RAINBOW

THE FUCK IS THAT 

Ohhhh Taiga you’ll know very soon......

Also notice the different colored tie. I wonder if this was his legit school uniform at the time. 

People hold up two concert lights and break them apart when Hiro’s pride is broken in the first movie, and they do the same here.

Oh Taiga...... why is your pain so hilarious.........................

Sometimes I ask myself the same thing.

I love the contrast here between the overly realistic uncomfortable crowd, overenthusiastic Ozora, and poor Taiga. I love it. I LOVE IT. I WAS NOT KIDDING WHEN I SAID EVERY FRAME IN THIS EPISODE IS A FUCKING MASTERPIECE 

It took me two or three viewings to realize that Taiga is actually crying here. Or rather trying really hard not to cry. 

I’m not sure if I’m counting favorite Kazuki lines or not since he doesn’t have a big roll in SSS, but if I am this little “Huuuaah” might be it. 

Poor Kazuki. He does nothing on purpose to incite the storm that has brewed around him with both Taiga and Alexander.

Taiga’s Mom is the fucking best. Like I said, I love SSS for bringing out all these amazing, supportive, strong female characters. Everyone’s Mom is great but Taiga’s Mom might be best Mom. 

Or at least I thought so until I met Alexander’s Mom but the jury is out right now. 

It took me like five viewings to realize their watermelon switched to corn and I laughed way harder than I should have. 

OTSUKARE TAIGA

I loved seeing him be a big brother here eheh. 

Taiga why did you even ask. You know how Edel Rose works.

Shin just looks so happy. He’s a puppy. 

My goal in life is to enjoy everything the way Shin enjoys things.

Yu’s AHHHHH MOOOOUUU in this scene might be my favorite Yu line ahaha. 

I don’t know why, but I the more he whines the more I love him. That’s just how you know Yu is having a good time.

RIGHT

RIGHT

FUCK TOKYOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

AHHHHH I WANT TO GO BACK TO AOMORI RIGHT NOOOWWWW

I’m like 40% considering going back this summer. 

I live in Aichi not Tokyo by the way so if I don’t fly that’s about UMMM 16 or 17 HOURS ON TWO BUSES BUT

Okay okay okay. So NOW it’s “street style” huh. Well what the fuck was with that whole “Solid Style” thing in episode 1 then? I guess the translator didn’t realize they were literally talking about street dance? Like WHAT? Or did they just forget?

And you know what actually this kinda pisses me off more, because the least they could do is keep it consistent. 

Because now that whole important line where Shin actually explains it for the first time in the main canon MAKES NO FUCKING SENSE ANYMORE 

ALSO

WHY IS ACADEMY CAPITALIZED AND STREET NOT

WHY

FOR FUCKS SAKE IM GONNA K--

Taigaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

(I’m OK now.)

Giving him a shojo reaction here was a choice. They didn’t have to. It was a deliberate choice. To portray Taiga’s feelings for Kazuki. Ahhhhhhhh

So remember when I stayed up translating this all of a sudden after I watched SSS Part 1 for..... reasons..... 

No I do not know why he’s an apple. Well I assume it has to do with the job he’s doing. And I do have a hunch from a creative standpoint but I’ll talk about that later. 

First timers in the theater always be like “R... RINGO..?????”

NO YOUR ASS IS BIG

....Is one of my favorite callouts of this episode. 

AND WHY IS JOJI EVEN IN THE CAR ANYWAY 

At this point during the midnight showing I was like.... is the real villain of SSS just gonna be Joji going around casually inconveniencing everyone? ....I’d watch that. 

This is the storage area near the main festival stage where you can go and see the floats before the festival starts. 

Here’s what it looks like in real life: 

One of the few instances where I can assure you real life is just as good as the anime. 

For people who read my shitty out of context spoiler about how a character beat Louis for the amount of skin showed in a prism show. Wasn’t kidding. 

Tasuku kinda spoiled this outfit in the first day greeting show by saying something like how it was an outfit which fit Taiga’s tastes well (festival wear) and everyone else was like NO STOP--

But yeah. This show. This soonggggg

Taiga’s voice is just SO. BEAUTIFUL. He has my favorite singing voice in all of Edel Rose. 

So after the first weekend I made a post to Tumblr about how I thought I had avoided getting any of the songs in my head, but then a certain one started CREEPIN IN...

IT WAS THIS

Taiga’s song is both the first one to get stuck in my head, and the one that keeps getting stuck in my head the most often to this day.  

I just love how he makes Nebuta floats of all his friends ahhhhhh 

Here are some more photos of the real thing..

It was raining the year I was there, and when it rains they put plastic over them so they look like snowglobes. That’s kinda cool in itself though.

I’ll never forget seeing this for the first time, realizing what was about to happen and being like NO... NO WAY.... IS THIS REAL LIFE NO WAY IS WHAT HDHFKHFDFH;LSFHDLSHFDS 

I’ll never forget it because I basically still feel the same way every time. 

They didn’t have to set this up like a confession scene. But they did. It was a choice.

But during this scene at cheering shows, I am much less concerned with what Taiga was trying to say and much more concerned with prepping blue and green lights for..... 

Words cannot express how happy this made me. If you haven’t picked up on it already Wakana is my favorite girl from RL. MATTE NYAAAAAAAAAA

Oh look here. A GOOD translation for “charachara”. One that I might actually steal from now on. Usually the best I can come up with is “flirty”, “carefree”, or “showy” depending on the situation.

So it seems at this point the translator finally understood what “charachara” actually means in the context of King of Prism. So of course, the logical thing to do here would be to go back and correct the previous wonky line where they used “gaudy” to make it consistent... right.... RIGHT??

Does Crunchyroll actually translate line-by-line as soon as the episode comes out in the hour before they post it? 

They don’t even get any time to edit it?

ARE

YOU

FUCKING

KIDDING ME

I dunno about you but I would wait a few more hours for fucking slightly more decent consistency in the translation BUT MAYBE THATS JUST ME 

OH LORD Kakeru’s episode next week is gonna be A SHITSHOW. 

The sitcom ending to this episode is so dorky but I love it. 

THIS EPISODE IS PERFECT

FRAME IT

DIP IT IN COPPER

SEND IT TO SPACE 

DONE 

It was really cool to finally see the details in these festival floats in the ending since they go by so fast in the episode. Shin’s has a rainbow! I wasn’t expecting Masquerade, but I suppose it fits Taiga as well. And it’s not that the Taiga version isn’t good but...  

It’s just that... I.... I want the CD but I..... I already have three different King of Prism covers of it on my phone........... nnnrhg

So. 

I dunno about you guys. 

But basically my interpretation of this episode is that no matter what Taiga says....

Everything he’s done...

It was never about the street style.

It was always

ALWAYS

about Kazuki

And that makes a lot of sense.

Kazuki spends this entire episode being an apple. Taiga hates apples. Kazuki is a personification of something Taiga hates. But it changes nothing. He loves him. HE LOVES HIM. 

I always questioned whether Taiga’s feelings for Kazuki were pure admiration or true love. And now I know the answer. Probably both. 

So this ends what I know to be King of Prism SSS Part 1, as per the theatrical release. 

Next week is Kakeru and also the beginning of what I know as SSS Part 2. 

I don’t want to de-hype you guys that much, but I actually feel the Part 2 episodes are a good deal more low key than Part 1. But then again that doesn’t say that much for the King of Prism standard.  

I have been looking forward to Kakeru’s episode being released with subs for the sole reason of finally being able to clarify a lot of things I didn’t understand about it. But after seeing the subs this week. HMMM. 

[fathersonholygore]

They Live. 1988. Directed & Written by John Carpenter. Based on the short story “Eight O’Clock in the Morning by Ray Nelson. Starring Rowdy Roddy Piper, Keith David, Meg Foster, George ‘Buck’ Flower, Peter Jason, Raymond St. Jacques, Jason Robards III, Sy Richardson, & Norman Alden. Alive Films/Larry Franco Productions Rated R. 94 minutes. Action/Horror/Sci-Fi-Thriller

★★★★★ John Carpenter is king of genre cinema. His work transcends any type of value judgements people try placing on horror movies or science fiction. He imbues his screenplays with very real, often times prescient social themes and commentary, even in the stories of his you might not expect to find them. In They Live, those themes are painfully apparent, though done in a way Carpenter doesn’t feel like he’s hammering us over the head with sociopolitical imagery. He makes the whole thing tongue-in-cheek, rather than going entirely into a spectacle of horror with his sci-fi madness. He uses a well-known wrestler, the late Rowdy Roddy Piper as his central character, John Nada, whose literal and figurative journey through the Los Angeles urban landscape becomes our own experience with modernity. Using the premise of the short story “Eight O’Clock in the Morning” by Ray Nelson, Carpenter eviscerates American consumerism and materialism, Reaganomics, as well as questions the vast class divide which exists in most American cities. The best part about They Lives is it could genuinely have been made this year and it’d barely need updating. It’s so relevant to the state we’re in today. Given Carpenter made this in 1988, his and Nelson’s respective prescience about American society is downright stunning.

“Our owners, they have us, they control us.”

There’s another world beneath our own— one of class differences, economic divide, racism. It’s not even particularly hidden deep, just below the surface. Carpenter opens the movie with the title, then superimposes it onto a mural of graffiti in Los Angeles. We’re embedded in the city. Moreover, we immediately step into a world of duality. We also see the decay of the urban landscape. Parts of the city are clean, other parts – ones occupied by the homeless, immigrants, various people of colour and economic situations – are in a process of decay. It’s fitting our lead, John Nada, is revealed behind a passing train coming over the tracks into the city. He’s a man without a home. An itinerant worker coming to L.A. so he might find work. He left Denver, which “lost 14 banks in one week,” letting us in on the economic decline of 1980s USA. He later meets Frank (Keith David), another character symbolic of the socioeconomic situation many tradespeople found themselves in during the era, taken advantage of by Ronald Reagan’s terrible policies and a general uptick in capitalist greed across the country. Both men sleep in shelters by night, work on a construction site during the day. Their little bit of time in between work/sleep is taken up wandering the city, or being a part of the homeless community. They’re both part of a transient work economy— separated from themselves, their families, and their homes. However, Frank and Nada are completely in different in terms of race. Whereas John believes everyone’s got “their own hard times these days,” Frank can’t afford to be so understanding as a black man. He tells his friend later: “I‘m walking a white line all the time.” Nada is a white guy, so no matter his circumstances he doesn’t have to worry about his race and what that means socially/economically/politically. In opposition, Frank’s blackness forces him to live under a Panopticon of whiteness. For this reason, he has a harder time letting go of the ideological control in the city later in the movie.

“It really boils down to our ability to accept. We don’t need pessimism. There are no limits.”

Eventually, Nada stumbles onto the truth of the city, discovering an entirely other existence right behind the Los Angeles he and Frank and other lower class citizens know. He finds a pair of glasses allowing him to see through what amounts to the ideology of the upper class: capitalism, consumption, and materialism. The glasses also help Nada see the bourgeois ruling class as they truly are: predatory and decaying aliens. They’re “free enterprisers“— intergalactic capitalists monetising modern planets. Suddenly he sees the city stripped of its advertisements/media, revealing subliminal messages. Such as an ad for a transparent computer, basically selling a lack of privacy + erasure of personal barriers, revealed through the glasses only to read OBEY. Also interesting that the ideological world of media is colourised while, after putting on the glasses and cutting through the state control, the subliminal messages display in basic black and white on top of a grey city background. This is what Kanishka Goonewardena calls “mediation of ideology by urban space,” the adverts and media serving to collectivise “the patterns of consumption,” in turn acting as a measure of social control (Urban Space & Political Consciousness). The movie shows L.A. as built around the rich and powerful— all those ads are mainly aimed at the lower classes, to entice them into becoming agents of consumption and keeping them focused on material culture. The famous fight in They Live is important for more than just getting to see Piper and David duke it out— they famously choreographed it themselves, fighting for real except for the groin stuff. It’s also significant because Frank’s blackness – controlled by the American economy’s whiteness specifically – has forced him into a space of self-preservation, and the ideology of that economy’s imprinted on his mind. Then there’s Nada – his last name = Spanish for ‘nothing’ – who comes into L.A. as a vagrant, though one privileged to be white, so he’s, essentially, a blank slate— a tabula rasa, onto which everything is written, nothing’s been pre-imprinted. He hasn’t been controlled by whiteness in the way Frank has, nor does he have a home like Frank, who hopes to go back one day when financially feasible, so he’s not been indoctrinated in the same way. This means it’s easier for him to wear the sunglasses and let ideology go. Not the case for Frank, which is why Nada has to physically fight him. In The Pervert’s Guide to Ideology, Slavoj Žižek discusses this scene particularly in regards to how it represents the process of leaving ideology behind and that to “step out of ideology, it hurts, it‘s a painful experience.” Eventually, after Nada beats Frank enough, he forces the glasses on him and his friend finally sees the real world without all the ideological influence on the city, erasing the “invisible order” influencing him.

“They are dismantling the sleeping middle class”

Another important part of the movie involves the concept of ideological and repressive state apparatuses (ISA + RSA), best exemplified by how the bourgeois aliens all communicate in a horde through the use of “two–way radios” built into fancy watches. The watches are class symbols, serving a dual function as a way of communication about class: in one sense, the watch tells others the wearer is upper class, and in the other, the watch allows the upper class to communicate amongst themselves, plus those who aren’t wearing them become subject to further state control. At one point, Nada is caught ‘seeing’ through the veil, so an alien calls for backup. Around the corner in an alley he’s confronted with cops, who happen to be bourgeois aliens themselves (even the human cops are turned against human citizens via fear of the dreaded American boogeyman: Communism!). Here, the connection between the ideological state apparatus – a “material force of ideology” (Žižek) represented by the watches – and the repressive state apparatus – law enforcement – is evident, a direct line between ideology controlling the city v. physical force of law and order controlling the city. All brings to mind the numerous idiot white people in America as of late calling the cops on black people for simply existing. Then there’s the idea of the two-way watch, conjuring 2018 issues of Facebook spying on our calls through the smartphone app, Alexa listening to all your conversations even while it’s off, and other similar postmodern tech predicaments. Again, an eerie Carpenter prescience rears its head.

“I believe in America. I follow the rules.”

Several Carpenter movies are on my all-time favourites list. His entire filmography, even the couple lesser entries, is a dream. He’s touched on so many different issues, stories, and themes there’s something for every kind of viewer, so long as you dig genre movies. They Live is Carpenter the Master at the top of his game. Because each time you watch this one, there are different things to take away, and the movie’s power grows stronger all the time. This is a condemnation of America consumerism and materialism, attacking an economy which was a result of Ronald Reagan’s horrible policy decisions. The media, the bourgeois owners of production, the government, and the police are all criticised throughout, more often than not with tongue firmly planted in cheek. We see all the cogs of capitalism and all the destruction its left in its wake across American cities. Carpenter, through Nada, strips advertising and media of all its creative, devious nuance and lays bare its function as a tactic of social control through consumer culture. They Live is decidedly a story of the USA, rather than the Western world as a whole. While there are extremely similar struggles all over the postmodern world, America’s struggle is so glaringly obvious, and painful, due to the fact it’s a country based specifically on a dream. Carpenter dismantles it in many ways. He also warns the American Dream is named as such because it’s an illusion, a method of manipulation by the ruling class. There’s no more American Dream— only in its citizens waking economic/social/political nightmares.

Prayers to a Consumer God: American Decay + Ideological Control in THEY LIVE They Live. 1988. Directed & Written by John Carpenter. Based on the short story "Eight O'Clock in the Morning by Ray Nelson.

[newstfionline]

Thursday, July 1, 2021

As Canada sees record temperature of over 118 degrees amid heat wave, police warn of deaths (Washington Post) Lytton, a village in British Columbia, became the first place in Canada to record a temperature above 113 degrees Fahrenheit on Sunday, with the thermometer hitting 116 degrees. But that national record did not last for long. On Monday, according to government weather agency Environment Canada, Lytton saw temperatures soar to just above 118 degrees on Monday. That is one degree higher than the record in Las Vegas, the desert city more than a thousand miles south of Lytton. In Burnaby, neighboring Vancouver in British Columbia, local law enforcement announced Tuesday that they had responded to more than 25 “sudden death” calls in 24 hours. Though the causes of death were still being investigated, police said that many of the victims were elderly and that the heat was suspected to be a contributing factor. In nearby Surrey, police had responded to 22 sudden-death calls Monday and 13 by midday Tuesday. Canada’s record comes amid a severe heat wave in the Pacific Northwest, with records Monday of 116 degrees in Portland, Ore., and 108 degrees in Seattle.

The power grid problem (Washington Post) In the punishing heat wave that has struck the Pacific Northwest, about 17,000 electricity customers were without power Monday evening. Nearly 20,000 more were in blackouts in Idaho, Oregon, California and Nevada. Those aren’t devastating numbers, but they are a reminder that the electric grid in America is frayed and always operating close to the edge. The high temperatures come just four months after Texas power was poleaxed by the February freeze, and only two weeks after the Texas grid wobbled again in its own heat wave. A year ago, California experienced failures on a wide scale. A compromise reached in the Senate would pump billions of dollars into upgrading the nation’s electricity system, if it becomes law, but the need is immense. And at the same time the Biden administration is pushing for electric cars, trucks and buses, and a widespread conversion to electric heating, all while slashing the emissions of greenhouse gases. The nation’s already strained power grid is either at a turning point or poised to dash all those clean-power visions as it crumbles under the new stresses being placed on it.

Millions skipped church during pandemic. Will they return? (AP) With millions of people having stayed home from places of worship during the coronavirus pandemic, struggling congregations have one key question: How many of them will return? As the pandemic recedes in the United States and in-person services resume, worries of a deepening slide in attendance are universal. Some houses of worship won’t make it. Smaller organizations with older congregations that struggled to adapt during the pandemic are in the greatest danger of a downward spiral from which they can’t recover, said the Rev. Gloria E. White-Hammond, lecturer at the Harvard Divinity School and co-pastor of a church in Boston. On the Maine coast, the pandemic proved to be the last straw for the 164-year-old Waldoboro United Methodist Church. Even before COVID-19 swept the world, weekly attendance had dipped to 25 or 30 at the white-clapboard New England church that could hold several hundred worshippers. The number further dwindled to five or six before the final service was held Sunday, said the Rev. Gregory Foster. About three-quarters of Americans who attended religious services in person at least monthly before the pandemic say they are likely to do so again in the next few weeks, according to a recent AP-NORC poll. That’s up slightly from the about two-thirds who said in May 2020 that they would if they were allowed to do so. But 7% said they definitely won’t be attending. Some may continue online. Eight in 10 congregants in the U.S. reported that their services were being streamed online, Pew said.

America’s workers are exhausted and burned out—and some employers are taking notice (Washington Post) Meg Trowbridge’s plans for the week are pretty simple. She’ll take long, meandering walks and explore some new parks and visit the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art for the first time since 2019—all on company time. In pre-pandemic times, Trowbridge would have joined colleagues from around the world at Mozilla’s annual two-week off-site meeting—last held in Berlin in January 2020—a mix of creative work and networking that left her both exhilarated and exhausted, she said. Instead of shifting that program online for a week of Zooms, Mozilla is shutting down the entire company for a “Wellness Week,” which will lead into the Fourth of July weekend. It dovetails with another initiative the company formalized this past January, a “Wellness Day,” or companywide day off, once a month every month this year. All 12 are scheduled for Fridays to tack onto the weekend. It’s not just Mozilla. Employers across the country, from Fortune 500 companies such as PepsiCo and Verizon to boutique advertising firms and nonprofit organizations, are continuing pandemic benefits such as increased paid time off and child- or elder-care benefits as well as embracing flexible work schedules and remote work in recognition that a returning workforce is at high risk of burnout. About 40 percent of Americans say they felt burned out while working at home this past year, according to a March Ipsos poll. Some 42 percent said they would look for another job if required to return to the office full-time, and 72 percent said they wanted more flexibility regarding going back into work.

British CCTV (CNN/UK News) The British government has been handed an embarrassingly disturbing reminder that leaks will always happen, and people outside of government will always want to see them. Last Friday, Matt Hancock, a married senior cabinet official, was caught on a security camera in his private office canoodling with an also-married female adviser. The tape was leaked to the press, and a newspaper published photos of the tryst. The now-former Health Secretary, who resigned on Saturday, said he had no idea there was a CCTV camera in his office; it was reportedly hidden inside a smoke detector. What’s freaking out his Westminster colleagues isn’t the fact that the woman wasn’t Hancock’s wife, or that the pictures meant Hancock was breaking his own government’s Covid rules. It’s the enormous security implications surrounding the kinds of sensitive conversations that take place in the official offices of the most senior people in the government of a G7 nation. The fact a camera ended up in the office of a senior cabinet minister could just as easily have been an error rather than conspiracy. But even if the camera’s existence was a mistake, and the content of the leak wasn’t of huge national importance, anyone with a top-level government job should know they are always at risk of being watched. Modern espionage often preys on weak links and amateurish mistakes. If the camera footage had been exploited by an enemy, Hancock could have been open to blackmail.

U.S. military commander in Afghanistan warns of chaotic civil war (Washington Post) The top American military commander in Afghanistan expressed deep concern Tuesday that the country could slide into a chaotic civil war and face “very hard times” unless its fractious civilian leadership united and the haphazard array of armed groups joining the anti-Taliban fight were controlled and made “accountable” for their actions in battle. The bleak assessment by Gen. Austin “Scott” Miller, who met with journalists, came as Taliban forces continued their rapid advance across northern Afghan provinces and expanded into other rural regions. The insurgents also began drawing closer in a circle around the capital city. In the past several days, officials and Afghan media reported, Taliban fighters have overrun parts of three provinces, all just short drives from Kabul on highways running north and south. They also attacked security posts in a third area that hugs the city’s western border. By some experts’ estimates, Taliban forces control as many as 140 of the country’s 370 districts and are active or influential in 170 others. U.S. and Afghan military officials alike have given much lower estimates, but more districts continue to fall to the Taliban almost daily.

China remakes Hong Kong (NYT) With each passing day, the boundary between Hong Kong and the rest of China fades faster. The Chinese Communist Party is remaking this city, permeating its once vibrant, irreverent character with ever more overt signs of its authoritarian will. The very texture of daily life is under assault as Beijing molds Hong Kong into something more familiar, more docile. Residents now swarm police hotlines with reports about disloyal neighbors or colleagues. Teachers have been told to imbue students with patriotic fervor through 48-volume book sets called “My Home Is in China.” Public libraries have removed dozens of books from circulation, including one about the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and Nelson Mandela. Hong Kong is now a montage of scenes unfamiliar and, for many, unsettling. Police officers have been trained to goose-step in the Chinese military fashion, replacing decades of British-style marching. City leaders regularly denounce “external elements” bent on undermining the country’s stability. Armed with the expansive national security law it imposed on the city one year ago, Beijing is pushing to turn Hong Kong into another of its mainland megacities: economic engines where dissent is immediately smothered.

Kim Jong Un’s shakeup (Foreign Policy) North Korean leader Kim Jong Un accused officials of causing a “great crisis” in the country’s COVID-19 response that would lead to “grave consequences,” North Korean state media reported on Wednesday, a rare acknowledgement of the pandemic as North Korea officially claims to be free of the virus. State media said that several Workers Party members had been replaced over the unspecified incident, including one of its powerful five-member Politburo standing committee known as the Presidium. The publication of Kim’s remarks comes soon after the leader admitted to a “tense” food situation in the country.

Lockdown measures extended in Australia amid COVID-19 outbreak (Reuters) Australian officials extended lockdown and social distancing measures to more of the country on Wednesday, with four major cities already under a hard lockdown in a race to contain an outbreak of the highly contagious Delta coronavirus variant. Around one in two Australians are under stay-at-home orders, with millions of others subjected to movement curbs and mandatory mask-wearing amid COVID-19 flare-ups in several locations.

Economic crisis, severe shortages make Lebanon ‘unlivable’ (AP) Ibrahim Arab waits in line several hours a day in the hot summer sun to buy gas for his taxi. When he’s not working, the 37-year-old father of two drives from one Beirut pharmacy to another, looking for baby formula for his 7-month-old son—any he can find—even though the infant got severe diarrhea and vomiting from an unfamiliar brand. He worries what would happen if his children got really sick. Once among the best in the region, Lebanon’s hospitals are struggling amid the country’s economic and financial crisis that has led to daily power outages that last for hours, shortages of diesel fuel for backup generators, and a lack of medical equipment and drugs. After 20 months of suffering with no end in sight, a new reality is setting in for most of Lebanon’s estimated 6 million people: Days filled with severe shortages—from spare parts for cars to medicine, fuel and other basic goods in the import-dependent country. “My life was already difficult, and now the gasoline crisis only made things worse,” Arab said on a recent day. To survive, he works a second job at a Beirut grocery store, but his monthly income in Lebanese pounds has lost 95% of its purchase power. “I wish I had the opportunity to leave. This country is unlivable,” Arab said.

Anger in the West Bank (Washington Post) Palestinians and advocacy groups continued Tuesday to protest the recent death of a local anti-corruption activist in custody of Palestinian security forces. For days, marchers have braved beatings and intimidation to rally in cities across the West Bank. In Ramallah, Hebron and Bethlehem, demonstrations have called for an independent investigation of the death of Nizar Banat, a vocal critic of the governing Palestinian Authority, and for President Mahmoud Abbas to step down from his 16-year rule. Banat was beaten by security officers when they pulled him from bed in a predawn raid on June 24, witnesses said. Officials announced two hours later that he had died, blaming an unspecified health problem. The official pushback against the demonstrations has been violent, with riot police deploying tear gas and reportedly assaulting female protesters. Video showed plainclothes security officers and Fatah supporters attacking protesters with rocks and clubs at a weekend rally of several hundred in Ramallah. Officers confiscated cellphones from marchers shooting video and reporters have had cameras broken.

Trapped in Ethiopia’s Tigray, people ‘falling like leaves’ (AP) The plea arrived from a remote area that had so far produced only rumors and residents fleeing for their lives. Help us, the letter said, stamped and signed by a local official. At least 125 people have already starved to death. Trapped in one of the most inaccessible areas of Ethiopia’s conflict-torn Tigray region, beyond the reach of aid, people “are falling like leaves,” the official said. The letter dated June 16, obtained by The Associated Press and confirmed by a Tigray regional health official, is a rare insight into the most urgent unknown of the war between Ethiopian forces backed by Eritrea and Tigray’s former leaders: What’s the fate of hundreds of thousands of people cut off from the world for months? The letter that reached the regional capital, Mekele, this month from the cut-off central district of Mai Kinetal was just the second plea of its kind. But the letter from Mai Kinetal offered badly needed, well-compiled data that lay out the devastation line by line: At least 440 people have died, and at least 558 have been victims of sexual violence. More than 5,000 homes have been looted. Thousands of livestock have been taken. Tons of crops have been burned.

[fiatluxnyc]

Everyday Is Sunday”, Part II: Evolve or Perish.

Rachel Darden Bennett is the first of the small business owners and freelancers to be profiled in this series.

May 17th 2020:

Whenever possible, her routine is to start her day with lemon water followed by coffee and prayer, and at some point, meditation. Once the cycle is completed, she is fully engaged to take on the task of therapy. She has done this innumerable times to begin the course of her work…

…Ten years into her practice, Rachel Darden Bennett is a yoga instructor with a supremely enviable client list.

In it, are several Fortune 500 companies, several hedge funds, and some of the most prominent artistic institutions in New York City, consequently the world. Most notably her practice is incorporated at Richemont, also known as Compagnie Financière Richemont, the Swiss parent company for noted luxury brands such as Cartier, Chloé, Jaeger-LeCoultre, Montblanc, Panerai,Vacheron Constantin, and Van Cleef & Arpels. A cursory description of her overall relationship to her various clients would portray her as something as a yogi Wendy Rhoades (actress Maggie Siff’s character), the corporate psychotherapist-cum-career motivator from the television show Billions.

As well-ensconced as she seems to be in her market segment versus as well-capitalized as those who are willing to pay for her services are said to be, what could be described as a quiet sea change of commercial death would soon shudder Gotham down to its basest economic and social foundations.

Not even to the resulting tsunami is she impervious.

Evolve or perish?

New York City, 1999.

Perhaps limited to New York State there exists a regional oxymoron whence coming from upstate and going “downstate” (New York City) is seen as going “up” somehow. This was a long-held ambition of a teenage girl who arrived in Manhattan at nineteen. From time she was a little girl she wanted “to go up” to New York City. The impression of New York City in Breakfast at Tiffany’s laid indelibly in her reverie.

Her move landed her at Saint Mary’s residence, a temporary home for women operated by the Daughters of Divine Charity located on East 72nd street between Second and Third Avenues. Her dream is to be a ballerina and singer like so many young girls that came before her and so many more that arrived right up until the day the city was placed under its current regime. The New York City of 1999 is radically different from the one in 2020, the former was a place where alertness and alacrity in the streets were everyone’s countenance. Rachel, the small-town upstate girl now took to carrying mace simply to get her bagels. Soon, her personal life would receive a double-barrel of tragedy and anguish as she would lose both of her parents to illness shortly after her arrival…

March 14th, 2020.

…The girl from twenty-odd years past and the previous century is now grown. The contours of her adolescent face reached the clear angular definition of maturity, yet the strawberry blonde locks remain. The grown woman is now purposeful and there are objects being moved to and fro, lifted and deliberately placed from the status quo ante to a newer, more compact location. At this moment, her neighbors in the Upper West Side are assisting in the load-in of her possessions into her rental car. Broadway is bereft of traffic, all the streets are quiet, the city as mausoleum.

Rachel Darden Bennett is conflicted, this city was Home long before she arrived twenty years ago from upstate New York and now she is a city partisan. She is a sharer of the privations of the city, from its occasionally brutal nor’ easters to the blackout in 2003 and to the financial crisis of 2008 to the present era. She isn’t supposed to be making her exit from this stage, she is supposed to be suffering with the denizens of the city. Leaving the city is making her feel in some way, a traitor. She came to the city to share in its struggles and in its wonders, not cut and run at this sign of trouble.

By now she is almost finished with her packing. Bennett still wrestles with the guilt of leaving the city behind. However, her reasoning is sound: New York City has become a hot zone, the locus of the majority of the reported cases of COVID-19 in the United States and she has a boyfriend in South Jersey; therefore, her Hegira is necessary.

An associate posts a New York Times article that garnered widespread attention on his social media and upon reading it, she is gauging the true depth of the calamity that has befallen others and concedes it is impressive in its reach. A sort of mental filter is erected from within, a kind of protective cognitive dissonance under which she must labor under to keep from being overwhelmed with various datapoints about the coronavirus: some true, some false, some contradictory, with the occasional red herrings thrown in between.

In recalling her thoughts at approximately on that date, she recollects the shock of the city’s economy abrupt halt: Regarding the situation with her business, she offers testimony: “But then, when something like this happens — -out of the blue — your income…becomes ether,” says Bennett.

On March 11th, 2020, a corporate client cancelled a relationship with Ms. Bennett. The next evening, her eyes clear, she recognized the moment she was fitfully trying to make manifest on her own: the moment came for her to change tack and take her business in another direction. Upon the realization that the pivot was necessary, she announced to her clients: she was going to continue her practice and maintain the professional tethers via virtual classes.

An unexpected generational fissure formed between the Boomers and members of the other generations represented in her classes. The Boomers largely decided to quit while they were ahead and not follow Bennett headlong into the digital breach with her virtual classes and with them went a needed source of revenue. Bennett’s appeals to their reluctance was met with no success.

Passionately she states the hard reality of operating a business even in the best of times, “There’s no two weeks for [Me]…Nobody’s got your back but you. There’s no 401K, there’s no sick days…”. She also speaks of a scarcely noticed psychological cost of operating her business and of others: business owners need community otherwise they operate in a silo. Bennett has little idea how others in her field are faring due to a silo effect created by the urgency of the situation and the daily strain of having to be the chief executive for virtually every function of a business.

Discipline and Ingenuity Defeats Disaster

In relaying her experiences in the ballet schools, she evokes an image of a laconic yet powerful sisterhood training for difficult and subtly martial tasks in cloisters. Subsequently, this training imbued her with a surprisingly Spartan mindset and an appropriately stoic, almost Bene Gesserit mantra:

“Everything is a choice,”

Perhaps it is a recalcitrance forged by the iron discipline necessary to train as a ballerina, is why Bennett takes the position of defiance in the face of city-wide calamity. The purpose of the mantra is reflected in her saying, “you choose to be a victim”. She refuses to be that rounding error of coronavirus casualties.

Rachel added,“…the coronavirus is a contradiction…it’s horrific and it’s hurt my business, but in the exact same breath, it’s helped my business. Because for the longest time, I wanted to build an online platform because that is the way of the future.”

Recently, she taught a Zoom class for The Wharton Club of New York, a social club for alumni of the University of Pennsylvania’s Wharton Business School. It was attended by sixty people on her Patreon page and it has opened her up to an even broader audience in terms of geographic location. At times she is simultaneously teaching students in countries like Canada, England, and Los Angeles.

Contraindicative to the health of her business model she is a firm proponent of the tandem “social distancing” and “shelter-in-place” regimen; indeed the same protocols that rendered her business model virtually obsolete. This is likely another manifestation of a temperament now fully annealed to the social consciousness prevalent in large cities. Irrespective to how initially debilitating in concert they are to her business, she views both measures as part of a larger albeit painful responsibility. Bennett’s optimistic and defiant resolve is balanced by a pragmatism reinforced by the realities of operating a business. Ms.Bennett harbors no illusion of an end of “the new normal” and the idea of desiring a return to something approximating the world before March 13th 2020 as a sunk cost.

The yoga instructor also recognizes her advantages in the current climate. “I’m not impoverished,” she says with a tone of a muted defiance. She understands that many business owners in the city do not have her ability to temporarily relocate in the midst of a pandemic and still be able to run their businesses. For that, she is grateful.

When asked about her prognosis for the near-term success of her business, she says:

“People need yoga more than they ever did”.

Ms. Bennett can be reached at www.rachelbennettyoga.com or her Instagram @rachelbennettyoga

For “Everyday Is Sunday” Part I, click here.

We are Fiat Lux | NYC: A brand management/public relations firm from New York City. We provide brand management services such as social media management, creative direction, ideation, and event management to creatives and small businesses in the creative industries. To inquire about our offerings feel free to contact us at info@fiatlux.nyc.

[saintheartwing]

Invader Zim: Breaking Dawn, Part One

In honor of Invader Zim’s 20th anniversary, I’m going to begin posting up my big “toast” as it were to Invader Zim and so much else. Here’s the story, presented totally as originally written.

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I dedicate this to 630kila, and to all the inspiration she has given me over the years. Cassie...this tale I dedicate to you. You gave me so much...much more than you ever realize, and I only hope one day I'll be able to repay you for all your kindness, all your friendship, all your creativity. You helped make me the artist I am, and I will always, now and forever, be eternally grateful for that. Thank you for giving me a chance to fly. I hope you, like the dear readers pouring over this, find this action-packed meta-fictional tale a fitting tribute to your work.

PROLOGUE

"WHAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

The green-skinned being awoke with a start, the bed soaked in sweat as he floundered around atop a thick white blanket, panting and heaving as if he'd been climbing a mountain instead of enduring a strange and surreal dream. His skin was made up of ever-so-tiny scales, almost miniscule to the naked eye, and he had a set of spiky antennae that had stiffened from the shock of his dream.

"What...what was all of that?" The vaguely reptilian, vaguely Insectoid being said in the Irken tongue, his "home language", slowly rising off the bed, looking around the room. Was he still dreaming, he wondered? Was he still that odd being he'd been in the dream?

No...white rose in the flowerpot by his bed. That was the same. Poster of the high Consular urging others to "Live for the Empire" to his right. That was the same. Normal silvery walls and-

Wait. His body. In the dream he'd been...

"Okay...head. How's my head?" He began to feel his head with his gloved hands, still panting slightly. "...totally round...right, round. Round is good. And no hair. Antennas? Good, still spiky. Hands...three claws...not five digits, claws. GOOD, GOOD." He murmured, pacing around the room. "Wait. WAIT."

He stiffened suddenly. In the dream he had been...

A Vortian? Him and a Vortian woman? And with the sister of the one who headed the resistance? That was so ludicrous it was almost laughable. It wasn't physically possible! How ridiculous! How absurd!

"...just to make sure..." he murmured, undoing the belt and loosening his pants to look down and inside...

From outside the room, a giddy almost whooping cry of joy was heard. And so the Senior Communications Officer of the Massive, exited his room to head to his station. He had work to do. Tallest Red and Purple had sent for further workers on the ship...he was supposed to be their mentor, get them acquainted with what they were to do since they sure as hell weren't going to babysit people they didn't care about.

...

...

...

... "Okay...deep breaths." Jayd the medic thought to himself, spreading his arms down in a stretch as he closed his eyes, taking in deep breaths through his mouth. He was lost in his own thoughts, his own world, oblivious to the others in the hallway. Within tubes connected to his hands shifted strange tiny glittering things, moving from his hands to his PAK. "First day of work. You can do this. You're chosen. Special. You will do this. YOU WILL DO THIS. You're going to be the best medic here."

"Okay, you've heard that "Senior" is a little bit...weird. But he's 421 years old. He's your taller. He's been doing this since before you were a fetus growing in a smeetery tube. You can do this. YOU CAN DO THIS."A white-robed Irken with a vaguely fern-like set of antannae murmured as he nervously scratched his cheek with a claw. Feyr had never been on the Massive before, his "boss" had been the head Consular himself. This was all strange new territory.

"I hate my life." The service drone Maht muttered. It didn't matter if he was being forced to carry drinks on Irk or on the Massive. Demeaning work was demeaning work. How had he fallen so far? Whilst the others were still learning to SPELL THEIR NAME, he had been trained to conquer galaxies! That is, until the recoding...

Why, WHY had those dead janitorial drones ruined everything? He could have run. Why had he changed his mind? Why had he stayed with them until the last of their life ebbed and he was left to take the blame for their death?

"Yes, I hate your life too, inferior service drone." Dite the Elite said in a still, subdued monotone. He...she? It was so hard to tell. There was a faint flicker of amusement across the Elite's masked and armored face.

"Idiots. Locked in their own worlds. Are they even aware of what duties they face?” Communications Officer Xeil inwardly groaned. Their first day of work and they were as frightened as smeets. They were Irkens! "Show some backbone, you skaatel!" She thought furiously, wishing SHE had psychic powers like the interrogator Feyr did.

The last one remained silent. Quiet. But an air of unmistakable amusement surrounded her as the guard smirked quietly, the first to turn as the doorway to the main control center of the Massive opened. The Tallest's glorious visage displayed upon the monitor as an Irken typed away at a computer console, standing up instead of sitting. He was a male Irken, who had very soft-looking green eyes and the outfit of a Communications Officer with his mask the same "Kelly Green" color of his chest and pants, though his arms and "shoulder" section were of a darker, more conservative shade of green. He wore a belt around his waist with several pouches, and upon seeing them, turned to the Tallest.

"These are the new recruits to our workstaff, my Tallest." He said, saluting.

"People we don't know or care about, meet person whom we barely care about who'll be showing you the ropes. We're off to go eat chips." Red said calmly, waving a dismissive hand in the air.

"And lots of cheese." Purple added as the feed was cut, the communications officer smiling gently as he spread his arms out.

"Well, it's good to see you all here! Call me "Senior", after my title. I'm Senior Communications Officer of the Massive."

He pulled down his face mask to show off his considerably bright and white smile. "And I want you to consider me...your safety net."

BREAKING DAWN, PART ONE

I started this little "blog" on the day after the War of Light began. And I just want to admit it freely: I'm sorry.

I'm sorry that I couldn't do more. Sorry that I didn't try harder. So, so sorry that I was selfish, and put my own personal desires before doing what was right. I had a chance to stop this early, and I didn't take it because I didn't know any better.

I will carry that guilt with me forever. If I had only brought it to Earth sooner, then...

But it's too late for that. The coming of the Darkening Skies cannot be prevented, only confronted and beaten. And I'll do what I can.

I doubt any Irken would read this. They're too busy trying to fight for their lives. But if you're a human on Earth, you need to know how this happened, and why you have to find them, the ones who carry the rings.

I suppose I should begin the way all good stories do.

In the beginning...

The planet and capital of Irk. Tall, highly-developed, and above all, sickeningly pompous. The very planet could be summed up to it's core, it's spirit, by this city alone. It was not hard for the onlooker to see why: every single building that wasn't a skyscraper seemed to be packed full to the brim with Irkens, almost looking like metal sacks ready to explode from the inside, a smell of deep-fried food and heavy machinery tainting the air. The skyscrapers that impaled the dark orange-red sky above were the most noticeable thing: they radiated an arrogance, a desire to show off just how high and mighty they were, a challenge to the heavens...

Towers of Babylon. And with everyone speaking the same language.

"I! ME! MINE!"

"No, it's MINE!" A tall, armored insectoid-esque creature snapped, purple eyes glaring as he yanked the data pad from his near-identical "brother" of sorts, the only difference between the two being a color scheme in their armor that befitted their eyes: one was red, the other, as aforementioned, purple.

Guess what their names were. I'll give you a hint. They're named after colors.

"Fine, fine. YOU read the news." Red said in a condescending tone, tossing some nachos into his mouth and eagerly chewing with his mouth open and as loud as possible to drown Purple out as the Tallest of the Irken Empire, glorious co-leader along with Tallest Red, spoke to their Senior Communications Officer as their grand spaceship the Massive came to a halt over the Capital City of Irk.

"We're running out of gas and need to stock up for 24 hours. So this means shore leave." Purple said. "We don't really care what you do with the 24 hours. Just so long as it's off the ship, this is the one time of the year where we don't have to look at you or listen to any of you and get to do...stuff. Private stuff."

"Uh, yes, sir, absolutely, I'll alert the rest of the crew that it's that time again." Senior Communications Officer of the Massive insisted, snapping to a salute as the Assistant Communications Officer also saluted as well, nodding firmly.

"We'll not fail to have fun SIR!" Xeil shouted in her usual slightly grating tone.

"Oh, I LIKE you. Have I said that before? I'm saying it now." Purple told her, nodding as the feed cut out from their private rooms, leaving Senior and his assistant to turn to the others. Grinning broadly, Senior pulled down the mask cloth that covered his mouth beneath the space that would have been his "nose" had he been a human, and whistled with his gloved three-clawed hands, a button being brought over to him from a drawer by a coffee machine located by a radar graph.

A shiny RED button with little confetti painted on it. He immediately pressed it, and immediately wild and raucous music belted out from tiny speakers built into the device, Senior and the others racing through the ship, getting the word out.

And that word was...

"PAAAAAAAAAARTYYYYYY!" Feyr the Consular cheered as he gripped a horn-headed, grey-skinned alien prisoner by her arm and twirled her around, dancing with her across the cell she was stuck in and patting her on the head. "Shore leave at last! I'll be back in 24 hours to talk to you about those hidden weapons caches. If you feel like talking, good...I'll bring a souvenir, I think you'll really enjoy an embroidered pillow." He explained, pink eyes glittering like gems as his fern-like antennae stood up tall.

"Whatever." The Vortian prisoner mumbled as Feyr let go of her, waving cheerfully as he closed the cell again, heading down the small prison wing and past the Medical Bay, a black-eyed Irken in medical armor with a large red cross in front of his chest was rubbing his hands together, strange tubes stuck into them going back into the metallic vaguely backpack-like thing upon his, well, back! This was called a PAK, the life support system of an Irken, a "Swiss army knife" of goodies, and it was evidently feeding something vaguely glowing into the hands, which slightly pulsed with light.

"Heading down into town, Jayd?" Feyr asked in his high-pitched, almost feminine voice.

"Well, yes." Jayd said, grinning broadly. "I think some balloons and streamers and little chocolates will do wonders for the patients I'll be getting in the upcoming year. I know Tallest Purple really likes the use of them when I put some Adhesive Medical Strips on him after he gets into those scuffles with Tallest Red."

"Chocolates?"

"No. Balloons. He really likes sucking out the helium. Ya think maybe THAT'S why his voice?..." Jayd wondered, scratching his head as they made their way out of the medical wing, heading for the elevator.

"Always that odd...sound." An orange-eyed guard of the Massive murmured, arms folded as she put her jetpack backpack back on, the bulky thing making her grunt as she strained under it's square-like shape and weight. It looked almost like a Tetris block. Yes, she did, in fact, know what Tetris is, the same way some of the Irkens knew what a Swiss Army Knife was.

Irk had conquered, pillaged, ransacked and raped many a planet. But one planet they stayed away from because it was host to their greatest failure, their greatest threat, their greatest annoyance. This being named Zim had caused the death of two Tallests, plunged Irk into darkness, blown up an entire planet simply by scratching his behind, and did so many other things that if I were to put them into a list, it would stretch out of the room you're in and into a nearby hallway.

What was this planet? Earth. And out of morbid curiosity, there had been those who had found themselves secretly drawn to Earth...interacting with Earth...promoting Earth culture on a black-market that was growing in power through the Empire. Food recipes, clothing, entertainment, surprisingly, 32% of the Empire seemed to think Earth culture wasn't "totally inferior".

Speaking of one such member of the 32%...

"I'm walkin' on Sunshine...woaah-ohhh! I'm walkin' on Sunshine...woaah-ohhh! And tryin' to feel good!" Senior Communications Officer of the Massive said cheerily as he shook his booty through the air, bouncing it around, the rounded-square-shaped communications chips in the side of his head not relaying instructions from the Tallest or the mighty Control Brains, the power behind the throne, oh no. It was all Katrina and the Waves as he danced around the room, getting his belt on, ready to spend, spend, spend and get all the newest Earth music he could find.

It might have been a flaw in programming. Quite possibly, yes. The Irken PAK provided personalities to the Irken race from the moment of conception in the Smeet Factories, organic bodies filled with the whole of Irken Knowledge and traits that would, over time, cement where said smeet would be placed in an occupation.

It was possible that his PAK was defective, that he was in error in liking this music. A bit of code that might have jumped, or gotten jumbled...

Or perhaps it was simpler? After all, the personality chosen for him had been one of friendliness, concern, an eager-to-help and eager-to-please identity that was perfect for one in Communications...why wouldn't he like something that made him feel like patting people on the head?

A definite answer might not be easy to find, but the end result was simple: Senior loved Earth music, loved the way it made him feel, the way it seemed to flow through him, and it made the hard work on the Massive so much easier. He suspected his wards, to whom he was their safety net, had their own ways of coping with the jobs they had. Well, this was his,begun on his first shore leave after being exposed to it in a back alley in the capital.

Adjusting his silvery belt buckle, he plucked the white rose from the vase by his bed...his good luck charm, which always greased the wheels for him, somehow, in some way. When he had it on him, the Tallest never made him do "The Electric Chair", or unusual favors. Nobody ever yelled at him or acted insubordinate. He'd found it in an alley on Irk, that same alley he'd first heard Earth music and had followed it like the scent of bread lures those to a bakery.

Taking the white rose tenderly in his gloved hands, he tucked it safely in his "Kelly-Green" shirt and sauntered out of the room, continuing to sing. "Walkin' on sunshiiiine...walkin' on sunshiiiiine..."

He almost bumped into service drone Maht, who blinked purplish eyes back at his taller, a tray held in his gloved hand. "Maht, you don't have to bring that, everyone on the Massive will be concerned only with stocking up, not with asking you for a drink-"

"Every time I'm off planet, someone asks me to fetch them something. I'm just saving time." Maht said in his submissive, dejected one, eyes closing quietly as he pinched the space between his eyes with one gloved hand. His Taller's very soft green eyes gazed upon the many stains upon Maht's maroon uniform and rubbed his chin.

"Look, uh...what if you stay with me the whole time? I'll shop where you shop, and keep anyone from asking you to go peel them a grape or something." Senior offered.

"Oh, sir, I...I can't ask you to do that..." Maht murmured nervously, blushing deeply as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"NONSENSE, c'mon." Senior insisted, bringing him along, patting him on the back and yanking the tray out of Maht's hand, tossing it backwards onto the floor as Dite, Elite Guard of the Tallest rolled it's eyes, ignoring the two as it looked it's reflection over in the mirror of a nearby bathroom with an open door leading to the hallway. Yes, everything in order except the mask. A black-gloved hand reaching down to a red belt, past a secondary PAK upon his chest...a hand that was then held a mechanical-esque pentagonal mask over the Irken's lower face, the mask attaching itself via clamps. Dite was, at last, ready.

Indeed, all of them were. Making their way through the short-range teleporter system and the various little ships housed within the Massive's Docking Bay, Senior piloted a small shuttle down to the planet's surface, heading for the central shopping district. There were eighteen dozen stores selling useless junk and souvenirs alongside various convenience stores and, more importantly, surplus warehouses. It was to one of the back alleys located behind one such warehouse that Senior intended to reach today.

"23 hours left." Senior informed his little group. "Maht and I are taking a trip to Warehouse 13 and 14. I'd like all of us to meet back up at the food court in the East District. And remember..." Senior tapped the communications chip on the right side of his head, nodding at them all. "You can reach me through this via your communicators, you all know my frequency."

"Don't go talking to any skaatel you don't know." Xeil added cheerily with a bit of a giggle.

"The term is "off-worlder"." Feyr said with a cold growl. "Not "off-world filth", they are not all so inferior."

"Of course you'd say that, it is your job to get close to them, Consular Feyr." Dite mused with a faint laugh in his, or perhaps her, voice as he waved a claw in a circle by his head in a "you're crazy" gesture before they all headed off to get shopping, Senior walking by Maht, who's normally sunken features had actually begun to show some real hope.

"I almost never get any time to relax." Maht said. "Thank you for doing this for me, Senior sir." Maht said again, shaking Senior's hand vigorously as they walked through the crowded streets of the capital city, Senior pointing at a nearby bar.

"Shall we go get YOU a drink for once?" He asked the service drone as they headed inside, pushing open a door with a very large and intimidating Irken skull insignia painted onto it in paint that was deliberately made fresh every single day to add a touch of class to the appearance of the bar.

Regrettably, "Barbone's Pub" had music blaring so loudly it was impssible to hear one's own thoughts. Sitting down at the bar in some stools, Maht and Senior sipped some of the few things most Irkens liked about Vortians: firewhisky. Pictures of the Tallest through the ages, be they Gor, Arnor, Spork even Splorchhammer, were proudly displayed, circling the bar above various signs that said things like "We Don't Bother Calling The Medics" and "The Most Endangered Species: Anyone Who Pisses Us Off". A bit of a harsh contrast, seeing the Tallest displayed in brave and noble portraits placed above insultingly violent proclamations below.

One such sign caught Maht's attention as he read it over. "The year was 1865, our land burnt to the ground, everything was lost, I took my stand. I rode through fire and rode through fog, Irken flag within my hand, fighting for the Empire, fighting for my Land...FTW?" Maht blinked. "Who's FTW?" He asked a brutish-looking guard that gave him a look like he was gum underneath his shoe.

"Who's asking?"

"Nobody special." Maht said immediately.

"I am." Senior wanted to know, looking the thick-bodied, brown-eyed Irken over. The man was obviously used to violence. Why was he speaking to an Irken who looked like his first name should be "Nazi"? Simple: the jerk was looking down on one of his wards. Nobody did that. NOBODY. He didn't even let the Tallest get away with that. Granted, that got him in trouble and made him get punished, but still...

"It means "F—k The World"." The gorilla of an Irken explained calmly. "You're clearly from off-planet. How many times a year are you actually on Irk? Seeing all that happens? You...I swear..." He shook his head back and forth, the other residents of the bar looking on nervously, others in anticipation. "Idiots flyin' up there in your little ships, removed from how life REALLY is down here. Thank the Tallest there's still people standing up for the old ways, the rest are filthy melkremar, traitors all! Off-worlder culture, PAH!" He spat on the ground at the mere idea of it.

"Yeah! Earth culture, PFFT! Vrik na tshanti!" Another Irken agreed, waving a mug of beer in the air. "Those offworlder-loving traitors waste their time wearin' cowboy hats, watching cartoons and playin'...TETRIS."

"TETRIS!" The whole bar spat on the ground.

"Maybe we should make like a tree and LEAF." Senior whispered to Maht as the gorilla of an Irken sneered at Maht, who was quivering nervously.

"Y'know I s—t out a turd that was bigger n' you this morning." He told Maht. "Question is...do I beat the s—t outta you right here and now for sidin' with someone that's so obviously a melkremar, or do I let it slide?"

"You are drunk, sir. You're saying things you don't even realize you're saying." Maht muttered In the old days he would have kicked the drunkard squarely upside the head and taught him a lesson. But now...

The brute reached for Maht to rip his arm off. Senior immediately grabbed the man's hand, slammed it down onto the table and pulled out something from a holster in his belt...an Earth weapon. Something he bought for several reasons. One, it had been a two for one deal. Two, whilst most Irken armor was resistant to plasma, it was NOT resistant to melee-esque weaponry, or metallic bullets. And three, and of this he was sure...when he shot people with it...

BANG!

It hurt a whole lot more.

The Irken screamed and bellowed, waving his shot-through hand in the air, gasping in horror as Senior put the gun in the holster, waving a dismissive goodbye as he led Maht outside the bar. "I'd go call a Medic now if I were you. Break tradition." He called back cheerily, heading for Warehouse 13...

Unaware that the "rose" tucked away, hidden in his shirt was slightly glowing for a moment, a repeating rhythm beginning to fill Senior's lack of ears as they reached the warehouse, Maht looking over various surplus bags of gumballs, his favorite snack, his taller situated across from him, examining large blocks of cheese.

Life.

Senior blinked. First the rhythm, now he was hearing a word. What was that word? It sounded like-

Life.

"Did you hear something?" Senior inquired, looking at Maht, who blinked in surprise back at his commanding officer.

"No, why?" Maht wanted to know, confused. "Do you want me to hear something, sir?"

"No, no, it's fine." Senior insisted, waving his hand in the air as he put several blocks of cheese in a shopping basket, as gold as the walls around them in the stylishly-lit warehouse.

Life.

Okay, that time he knew what he'd heard. "Life"? Where was it coming from?

He then noticed it. A glow on his chest. Eyes wide in surprise, he ran for the nearest bathroom before anyone could notice, locking the door behind him, gazing down at the glowing region of his shirt, his heart. Realizing what it most likely was, he reached into his shirt, removing the white rose as it pulsed with strange light, bathing him in warmth...

Life.

"Did you just...speak?" He asked. "...look at me, I'm talking to a rose..."

I am more. I have watched you for some time. You're not as bad as the others, little bug. No, no. Within you...lies a concern for the lives of others. Thus, I am choosing you, now at the moment of the Great Dawn...choosing you to be my avatar. You'll simply have to do.

"Have to...do? BUG?" Senior asked, an offended look flickering across his face.

The other Entities have begun to make their appearance, and all will choose their avatar. I who stand for Life, am choosing you. You shall fight for me for the sake of your kind. And if you fail, your people will die.

Senior's eyes widened as the rose suddenly transfigured into a large, white lantern, brimming with power. He held it up, transfixed by its shimmering light, awe and wonder filling his eyes. The words were frightening, and yet there was no cruelty, no menace behind them. The being that spoke through this lantern was trying to be kind, a parent explaining an important but solemn duty to a child.

I want to prevent that. No matter how I DESPISE your kind's actions...I do not want you dead...any of you. Certainly not at the hands of the other Entities. So I ask you now...do you wish to save your world? Your people?

Light began to sift out of the White Lantern, light of so many shades, spilling out and swirling around the Irken communications officer as he found himself flooded with something...a power the likes of which he'd only tasted before, briefly, as he listened to the songs that filled him with joy. In a few moments it was as if his eyes, so long held quietly tight, were being pened. He, who had been dead so long, was finally alive...

"...what...are you doing? This...this feels wonderful..." Senior whispered. "I...I'm alive. I'm alive. Will...will I feel like this all the time if...if I help you?"

EVERYONE will feel like this.

"...yes..." Senior gasped happily, brimming with joy. "Oh, yes, YES!" He cheered. "I'll do it!"

And with that, the White Lantern shone like a brilliant star, transforming into a million points of light that seeped into Senior's body like a mist, the Irken feeling the presence of a being fare more magnificent and above any Irken as a star was above a grain of sand. Now he was host to the protector of Life.

Host to Sude, last of the Seraphi race...his new lord and God.

Destiny awaits...

[whereisfootball]

“Vietnam - Chiến Thắng!”: Finding the Beautiful Game in Southeast Asia by Alex Kocher

It was 6:30 p.m., and we were more than an hour and a half late.

“Rush hour here is bad, so give yourself some extra time to get to the stadium.” That was the advice I received from Bill’s email the day prior. My friends and I got into an Uber and left Hanoi’s Old Quarter with what we thought would be an ample buffer. Little did we know we’d spend the next two hours stuffed into a tiny car slogging our way through the crowded streets of Vietnam’s capital city.

It was October and northern Vietnam was heading into the dry season, but you wouldn’t have known it. The rain poured and the streets flooded with inches of standing water and thousands of plastic poncho-covered motorists. The entire city was a mess of motorbikes weaving between and around each other, horns constantly honking. There were seemingly no rules of the road. I was bewildered by the scene and wondered how anyone got anywhere. Anxiously, I checked the time on my phone and followed our glacial pace on my map. I may not always be the most punctual person, but an hour and a half late is terrible and I felt awful about it.

Weeks before we had arrived in Vietnam, I sent a hopeful email to Bill George after finding his podcast on Vietnamese soccer. I wanted to go to a match while traveling around the country and thought who better to see it with than the author of Vietfootball.com. Bill was immediately keen on the idea and after a few exchanges, we made plans. It was the international break and Vietnam was scheduled to play host to Cambodia in a qualification match for the 2019 AFC Asian Cup at My Dinh National Stadium in Hanoi.  

Setting a new personal record for tardiness, I had to resign myself to our reality: We would arrive at the stadium only when the chaos would allow. I was already writing an apology email, accepting that we might not meet Bill, who had  every right to be fed up and walk into the stadium by himself or go home cursing me for wasting his time.

Fortune would have it, though, we would meet. Finally, out of the car, I swiftly scanned the expansive beer garden and found a man who vaguely resembled Bill’s Twitter profile photo and who was about to pay and leave.

“Bill?” He looked up from his near-empty glass. “Alex?” Five minutes longer in traffic and we likely wouldn’t have met. That saved apology email would have found its way to his inbox as soon as I found wifi.

Despite our delays, we still had a few minutes until kickoff, so I bought a round of bia hoi. The five of us quickly got to know each other over that first beer.

Bill is from England and has lived in Hanoi for since 2011. Working in English education, he staffs classrooms with teachers from England, Australia and the United States. Bill grew up on football and is the sole author of Vietfootball.com. He started writing about Vietnamese soccer in 2013. Searching for a project to fill his time in his newly adopted home, Bill decided that he would attend every Hanoi FC away match that year. As he tells me about the beginnings of his part-time writing career, Bill proudly touts that he was often the only away fan.

Today, though, he was home in Hanoi, at a stadium he knew quite well. Vietnam are in the final round of AFC Asian Cup qualifiers. Though undefeated, Vietnam have drawn twice and won only once. Sitting three points back from group leaders, Jordan, and with two games left, Vietnam still have it all to play for.

Outside the stadium we saw a vendor selling red head bands with yellow writing: “Vietnam Chiến Thắng!” My girlfriend  bought one for 10,000 dong (roughly 50 cents) and donned it for the home team.

Pushing past the light security and through the gate, we made our way into the stadium. Inside, the cement floors were wet and the walls were without banners, photographs of star players or any of the trappings we expect at large venues in the U.S. There was no team store filled with merchandise and the concessions were folding tables stacked with beer cans and shrimp chips.

The field was incredibly saturated, but the level of play was high. Cambodia in blue, Vietnam in the unmistakable red. As the match began, Bill and I chatted away about all things Vietnamese football.

Professional football in reunified Vietnam started in the 1980s after a long era of war with imperial powers France and the United States, and several years of civil war. In 1989, the country founded the Vietnam Football Federation (VFF) and two years later played its first international match — a 2-2 draw against the Philippines. For Vietnam, it was their first international match in 18 years.

On this day, the stadium was far from sold out. Fans filled less than half of its 40,192 seats, many of whom retreated to covered sections to be out of the monsoon. Exposed to the elements in the southeast corner of the stadium, the Vietnamese supporters’ group was relentless in their chanting. They seemed to embrace the rain and relish this moment.

The first half ended 1-0 in favor of Vietnam. A deflected shot from outside the box had left the Cambodian goalkeeper with his feet planted and put the home side in front. It was a positive first half for Vietnam, but Cambodia were not without chances on goal.

Success for the Vietnam national team has been tough to come by. Vietnam won its only trophy in the regional 2008 AFF Suzuki Cup. Aside from hosting the AFC Asian Cup in 2007, Vietnam recently earned its first entry through qualification to the continental tournament as a unified nation. The tournament will be held in the United Arab Emirates from January 5 – February 1, 2019.

The VFF haven’t sat idly wishing for success either. There has been significant investment into their youth systems and domestic league. Though professional football in Vietnam started in the early 80s, the V. League was founded in 2001 and is largely perceived by the federation and fans alike as the vehicle that will bring Vietnam international success. Clubs are limited to registering only three foreign players, forcing the focus on developing Vietnamese talent.

Foreign clubs have also seen the VFF’s ambitions as signs of a market ready for investment. Premier League club Arsenal has partnered with V. League club Hoang Anh Gia Lai and invested in two youth academies in Vietnam.

Manchester United legend Ryan Giggs has signed a two-year contract as youth technical director with the Promotion Fund of Vietnamese Football Talents FC (PVF). He’ll be charged with not only coaching the young players but also with coaching education. PVF aims to create a system that will make them “the leading youth football training center in Vietnam, in line with the famous football academies across the world.”  

On that day in Hanoi, the young Vietnamese talent was on full display. Five different players scored, each a member of the V. League, including Nguyễn Công Phượng, 22 - the “Vietnamese Messi” - who was brought up through Hoang Anh Gia Lai – Arsenal JMG Academy.

Vietnam’s 5-0 win over Cambodia that night helped bolster their position in the table and a scoreless draw against Afghanistan in November clinched a berth in the upcoming Asian Cup with one match still to go. Below us, the small but passionate contingent of supporters were loving the goal-scoring spectacle, bouncing up and down, waving red flags and chanting Chiến Thắng!

The energy was contagious and with each goal even my traveling counterparts and I cheered on the home team. A few supporters had taken note of us—and, in particular, the blonde girl wearing the headband. Danielle, my girlfriend, became an instant celebrity. We had a blast taking in the scenes at My Dinh National Stadium and it didn’t end for us until long after the whistle. We continued celebrating the victory back at the beer garden.

Our time in Vietnam is an adventure I won’t forget. Meeting Bill and experiencing the the football culture in Vietnam was definitely a highlight of the trip. A month removed from eating delicious pho and drinking bia hoi, Vietnam is freshly  qualified for the AFC Asian Cup and it appears the nation’s patience and persistence is starting to pay off.

Alex Kocher is a creative director working in professional soccer for Portland Timbers FC and Portland Thorns FC up in the Pacific Northwest.

[loreleywrites]

Dinosaurs? In MY Ixalan? It’s More Likely Than You Think

Ixalan is a bright, colorful world that features four factions gunning for the same prize: the lost city of Oraza, which holds the ultimate power/treasure/secret called the Immortal Sun. Pirates, Merfolk, vampiric conquistadors, and the dinosaur-riding Empire of the Sun each have their own reason for seeking out this trophy.

Despite all four groups being historically rooted in the same geographic location (the greater Caribbean, including present-day Mexico), some players think that these factions are a haphazard pastiche rather than a cohesive world. In particular, many are confused what the heck dinosaurs have to do with the Empire of the Sun, a fictional nation based on the Aztecs. In today’s article, I’m going to explain why the dinosaur/Aztec connection is a lot less weird than you think it is.

Talkin’ Turkey

Sun-Crowned Hunters by Aaron Miller

If you’re a carnivorous American, then you probably sit down for turkey at least once every November for Thanksgiving. You’ll give thanks for health, family, or football, but you should really be giving thanks to the Aztecs.

Aztecs were avid turkey breeders, continuing a tradition that genetic evidence says began around 800 BCE (before Aztecs even existed). They ate turkeys, yes, but also cultivated their feathers for everyday use and religious ceremonies (More on feathers later.) The Spanish brought Aztec turkeys back to Europe, where they became an instant hit. British colonists eventually brought them back to North America, and the domestic turkeys you eat today are direct descendants of the ones first bred in Mesoamerica. The Aztecs even had a turkey god, Chalchihuihtotolin, who was somewhat of a trickster.

How does this connect to Ixalan? Turkeys are, like all other birds, theropod dinosaurs. The Empire of the Sun befriending dinosaurs doesn’t seem so weird when you understand that the Aztecs were bona fide dinosaur breeders. When it csmes to husbandry, the meat and feathers turkeys offer made them one of the most important Aztec farm animals.

The irony of that brat in Jurassic Park trying to insult velociraptors by calling them “six-foot turkeys” is that he wasn’t that far off from the truth.

Here Comes the Sun

Gishath, Sun’s Avatar by Zack Stella

Not many aspects of Aztec society have breached pop culture, but sun worship is a big one. One of the most important deities in Aztec religion was Huitzilopochtli, a god of the sun, war, and sacrifice. Huitzilopochtli was also the patron of Tenochtitlan, as he helped the Mexica people found it by sending an eagle to mark the location where it should be built. Huitzilopochtli is associated hummingbirds, but can also take the form of an eagle. He also used a flaming serpent as a spear.

Hey look, more birds! Birds are still dinosaurs. They’ll always be dinosaurs. Ixalan shifting everyday dinosaurs into exciting prehistoric dinosaurs is a fairly seamless upgrade. And just like the Aztec sun god can take the form of a dinosaur, so does the Empire of the Sun’s. While we don’t know much about the sun that the Empire worships yet, we do know that Gishath is a mighty avatar of that deity. Many other Dinosaur Avatars exist in Ixalan, each of them echoing the religious significance of sun-dinosaurs in Aztec culture.

But the sun isn’t the only religious symbol that involves dinosaurs in either Aztec religion or the Empire of the Sun’s ways. Remember, Huitzilopochtli is also a god of war.

The general populace is probably familiar with the jaguar knights, elite infantry that wore jaguar pelts into combat. They were only one of two elite warrior classes, however. The eagle warriors formed the other half of this group, and they adorned themselves with feathered armor and eagle-skull headpieces. Becoming an eagle or jaguar knight was one of the only ways to ascend class in an otherwise stratified society, and these individuals were rewarded with the best education and training the Aztecs could offer.

More relevant for Ixalan, eagle knights literally dressed up like dinosaurs when engaging in war. The Empire of the Sun uses this as a reference when establishing feathered nonavian dinosaurs as the backbone of the nation’s martial forces. Just like how the eagle knights represented the pinnacle of Aztec military prowess, so too are the dinosaurs the greatest asset in the Empire’s army.

Birds of a Feather

Priest of the Wakening Sun by Bastien L. Deharme

While the only known nonavian dinosaurs with feathers were theropods, all the dinosaurs in Ixalan boast colorful plumage. Other than building visual cohesion, this also helps connect them to the Aztec culture on which they’re based.

As I mentioned above, feathers were an important part of Aztec life. Even when not used for food, some birds were bred just for their feathers. They were used in clothing, blankets, religious outfits, ceremony, and even currency. The resplendent quetzal was renowned in Mesoamerican cultures for its beauty, and its long tail feathered were plucked for trade and priestly wardrobes.

Arguably the most recognizable Aztec deity was Quetzalcoatl, named for the magnificent green bird. The -coatl part of his name means “serpent,” and it’s not to see the parallels between a feathered serpent deity and a dinosaur with brilliant feathers. Quetzalcoatl is a god of wind and knowledge, but also the patron of priests. Once again, we see a strong tie between religion and avian dinosaurs in Aztec culture.

Given how important feathers were to the Aztecs, it’s no wonder Ixalan features so many brightly colored dinosaurs. They form the backbone of the Empire of the Sun’s religion, so having them matter in the same way that eagles and quetzals were important to the Aztecs is a smart reference.

The people of the Empire also mirror Aztec feather use in their clothing. Check out the feathered headpieces in Emperor’s Vanguard:

Emperor’s Vanguard by Victor Adame Minguez

Feathers are the core of the visual references between the Empire of the Sun and the Aztecs. Their significance in clothing is easily mirrored in art, but their auspicious use in religion manifests through the dinosaurs important to cultures real and imaginary. This single biological trait, delicate as it is, does tremendous amounts of work tethering Magic’s fiction to the real world that inspired it.

Dino-Score!

When you dig into it, nonavian dinosaurs are a perfect way to use Aztec culture as an inspiration for a fantasy setting. Birds, which are theropod dinosaurs, were important parts of Aztec husbandry, clothing, and religion. Using extinct feathered theropods in Ixalan proliferates those themes into a fantastical setting in a way that has positively excited players around the world. Capitalizing on the coolness of nonavian dinosaurs in a way that intimately, and respectfully, roots them in Aztec culture is brilliant.

Hats, and eagle helmets, off to Creative for constructing such a visually stunning and supernaturally meaty world in Ixalan.

[yuvilee]

29th October 2019 Student-led seminar 2

Text: Littler, J. (2010) 'What's wrong with ethical consumption?', in Lewis, T., Potter, E. (eds) Ethical Consumption: A Critical Introduction, Oxon: Routledge, pp. 27-39.

Table of content:

Introduction: What is Ethical Consumption anyway? Main part:  About greenwashing Questions that emerged for me: Way outs - maybe? So what can I do for a start? Social Media Boycott Conclusion Notes: Books and articles Pictures

About the author: Jo Littler is a speaker at the Center for Culture and Creative Industries and Research Director in the Department of Sociology, City University London. She received her doctorate in culture and communication at the University of Sussex. Among other Universities she also taught at Middlesex University with a focus on media and cultural studies. 

Her interests are within interrelations between society, politics, culture, and her research fields are mainly on meritocracy, gender, consumer culture, heritage and also celebrity.

Some of her latest works (selection): Littler, Jo (2017) Against Meritocracy. Routledge. Littler, Jo (2009) Radical consumption : shopping for change in contemporary culture . Maidenhead: Open University Press/McGraw-Hill. Littler, Jo (2008) Gendering anti-consumerism: consumer whores and conservative consumption. Palgrave MacMillan.

What is Ethical Consumption anyway?

There is a multitude of layers to this topic that it seems rather impossible to draw a straight line between what is part of it and what is not. Are we talking about animal welfare, is it the whole environment with a focus on renewable energy, is it about people ethics with a focus on code of conduct and ethical trading schemes, or human rights, modern slavery, do we include political and environmental donations, or do we check for boycott-ism, and ethical accreditation as well, just to name a few?

It gets even more complex when we look at the middlemen like delivery-drivers, people in warehouses and on cargo ships or trains, the third world farmers and helpers where poverty and child labour exists, the waste from unused groceries, textiles, outdated technology products.

In our generation we are more connected with the world than ever and trade-supplies are global. Never before in human history was the supply of consumable items greater. This makes it more difficult than ever to be an ethical consumer and to consider all the different choices and their side-effects.

Is living up to be an ethical consumer really that difficult? Is it just a way to ease a guilty conscience for those with enough money to afford it? And would this mean that poor people are excluded and cannot take part in conscious consumption?

This essay is full of questions as on the one hand I strive to be as conscious as possible and on the other hand I’m very afraid of wrong choices as I will elaborate on later.

About greenwashing

It’s not only about the consumer but the industry as well. Discussions about global governance and ethics were already high in the late 20th century(1). Following the introduction of the then United Nations Secretary-General, Kofi Annan of Global Compact during the World Economic Forum, the UN itself became a moral authority for global values and governance(2).

But even though there is regulation through the UN and following campaigns, can I trust companies that advertise a green and ethical stance? Should I be charged more for the feeling of having done something for the environment? For example, sales campaigns that promise that the added 0.10 pounds of the bill go to WWF or similar organisations - is this really being done? How can we be sure and how can we trust a corporation to do this when all the time we hear news about big companies taking shortcuts, polluting, sometimes even breaking the law in order to make a profit?

Above: My screenshot (Dictionary Cambridge, 2019) Definition of capitalism UK

Above: My screenshot (Dictionary Cambridge, 2019) Definition of capitalism US

In our capitalistic world most companies are the victim of their own goals: the run for profit. If they are not regulated by the state or by themselves through responsible owners and shareholders, they will use all options at their disposal to sell their products. Hence the findings by Krauss are of little surprise and the statement of Littler becomes very valid: 

‘(...) corporations can indeed be of progressive value, but, crucially, only at the whims of corporations themselves; and in addition corporations may hype their claims or use them to hide more exploitative aspects of their practice.’(3)

Questions that emerged for me:

Is it true that it takes great effort and time to find products and companies that are really responsible and that most of them in turn are more expensive? There does not seem to be the one “Right Way” to live responsibly but many. It’s a jungle of options and sometimes the first glance, the claims of a self-proclaimed green company, are just a sham as Littler points out with examples of Wal-Mart or Home Depot(4).

I want to add one of my personal examples, Chiquita bananas which I preferred over their competitor Dole as of 2011 when they were in a lawsuit for greenwashing and water pollution as well as other factors(5). 

Chiquita, certified by the Rainforest Alliance made me believe they were growing bananas responsibly and environmentally friendly, as much as that is possible despite the distance they need to travel from. In 2014, Chiquita suddenly became known for water pollution as well which raised the question about the Rainforest Alliance’s knowledge and partnership in that. I felt guilty and betrayed by the company, and almost like an accomplice to a crime(6).

Way outs - maybe?

We cannot be Superman and save the whole world, that much is certain. What we can do is create options for ourselves. In the end it might not change much in the grand scheme of things but it might make people around us become more aware of their consumer behaviour as well.

So what can I do for a start? There are possibilities available for ethical shopping like the fair-trade seal, using recycled paper, organic cotton or to buy regional produce. There are also options for reusing unwanted items like handing them over to charities or left-over collections. You can buy second-hand and there are even opt-ins for a weekly clothing lending bank so you don’t need to buy clothes at all. 

Social Media Online guides and apps can help us to make ethical choices. There are books, consumer advice hotlines, magazines, and also the new media forms offer a wide selection of advice online, like https://thegoodshoppingguide.com/(7) In their reports they distinguish between four sections giving you the option to pick parts that are more important to you. The downside is that there are only few tested companies. 

Boycott  Another way to make an impact might be to boycott and spread the word, similar to what happened to Uber in 2017 with #DeleteUber(8) Both Uber and Facebook are facing enormous pressure and have modified some of their practices and committed to improvements. 

Conclusion

‘One of the things you can do to be more responsible is to take greater ownership of your stuff,’ says Mr. Lai(9).

Life changes all the time. Recently I read in the news about the invention of plastic bags - they were introduced as a more nature-friendly alternative to paper bags(10).

That means we need to be aware of our surroundings and sources, we need to stay informed and be flexible with choices as the industry is flexible with prices.

And at the end of the day, however, it is still about finding our own way of living a happy life since there is only this one to live. The amount of effort every single one of us puts into researching and making informed decisions is, after all, also each individuals own decision and perhaps the first one we have to think about, before even looking at more detailed decisions.

Notes:

Books and articles:

Wilkinson, R. (2005), The global governance reader, London: Routledge. 

cf. Bruno, K. (2005), Bluewash, New Internationalist. Oxford: New Internationalist Co-operative, (375), pp. 26–27.

Littler, J. (2010), ‘What's wrong with ethical consumption?’, in Lewis, T., Potter, E. (eds) Ethical Consumption: A Critical Introduction, Oxon: Routledge, p. 32.

ibid. p. 31-32.

Halverson, M. (2015), Dole, chiquita sued by seattle nonprofit, SeattleMet, 6 July. Available at: https://www.seattlemet.com/articles/2015/7/6/dole-chiquita-sued-by-seattle-nonprofit (Accessed: 27 October 2019).

Shemkus, S. (2014), ‘Better bananas: chiquita settles lawsuit over green marketing, but the legal battle isn't over’, The Guardian, 19 December. Available at: https://www.theguardian.com/sustainable-business/2014/dec/19/chiquita-lawsuit-green-marketing-bananas-water-pollution (Accessed: 25 October 2019).

The Good Shopping Guide, (2002/2019), The good shopping guide, viewed on 27 October 2019. Available at: https://thegoodshoppingguide.com/ (Accessed: 24 October 2019).

Chen, B. (2018), ‘Yes, you can be an ethical tech consumer. Here’s how’, The New York Times, 12 December. Available at: https://www.nytimes.com/2018/12/12/technology/personaltech/ethical-tech-consumer.html (Accessed: 27 October 2019).

ibid.

Weston, Ph. (2019), ‘Plastic bags were created to save the planet, inventor’s son says’, The Independent, 17 October. Available at: https://www.independent.co.uk/environment/plastic-bags-pollution-paper-cotton-tote-bags-environment-a9159731.html (Accessed: 27 October 2019).

Pictures:

Capitalism UK (2019) [Screenshot]. Available at: https://dictionary.cambridge.org/de/worterbuch/englisch/capitalism (Accessed: 27 October 2019).

Capitalism US (2019) [Screenshot]. Available at: https://dictionary.cambridge.org/de/worterbuch/englisch/capitalism (Accessed: 27 October 2019).

[doomedandstoned]

Doomed & Stoned in Russia with Neuropolis

~By Billy Goate~

Photographs by Darja Fetisova

I like to keep my finger on the pulse of scenes around the world, especially those that are lesser known in the light of the mainstream. For the past three or four years, for instance, we've been covering events like the Sludge Convention and Tune Low, Play Slow in Moscow and St. Petersburg. Russia has a thriving heavy underground that trends towards dark, dank sludgy doom, much of it with a hardcore or southern rock twist.

Support for local gigs is robust compared to what most bands experience in the States. Alice in Chains just played their first gig ever in Moscow and it was incredible to see the fast crowd singing along with every song (yes, even the new ones). Bands in the doom-stoner scene such as Acid King, Eyehategod, and Elder have, in recent years, taken the long trek into what was once forbidden territory to perform before a most grateful (and highly involved) audience.

The homegrown scene is no less impressive, though much of it is tragically unknown outside of local circles. Some have broken free from obscurity, like The Grand Astoria, and more and more people are sharing the likes of The Re-Stoned, Dekonstruktor (formerly The Moon Mistress), Pressor, Stoner Train, Tsygun, Without God, Lord of Doubts, ИЛ, Illegal Ones, C.X., Phantomass, 609, and Fuzzthrone on the socials.

This is the point at which we're introduced to a fresh face in the doom scene, a six-member crew called NEUROPOLIS. I happened upon them while browsing a Russian-language metal forum one afternoon, which led me to a YouTube video for the EP, 'Temptation' (2019), which itself was quite the unexpected emotional odyssey of peaks and valleys. Take a listen for yourself:

Temptation (Искушение) by NEUROPOLIS

Perhaps the band got lucky their first go around and composed a masterpiece of doom with deft touches of death. Perhaps there is more greatness awaiting in the creative well of these young musicians. Regardless, the time is ripe to get to know them all better. In the process, we're afforded a rare window into the St. Petersburg heavy underground and the cultural distinctives that are shaping the Russian doomers of today.

Doom resonates with our worldview and perception.

It has already become an integral part of us

Take us underneath the soil, into the roots of Neuropolis. How did it all begin for you as a band?

Now it is difficult to note any one of the band's stages of existence as an absolute foundation point. Every one of us has been creative, mostly in music, before we became a band. The first crew, from which our band slowly began to develop, was formed approximately five years ago. It was a naive time of experiments and searching for sound. Kim, Freakedelic, and Dmitry (the former vocalist of the group, whom we jokingly call Maestro), arranged jam sessions together, tried and eventually learned to play instruments, and worked on their first songs ("Heaven in Hell," "Secret Paradise," "Killing Machine"). Then the guys gave their first concert in a bar called ZIS and got a couple of whiskey shots for their fee.

After this, due to internal contradictions and uncertain life circumstances, Freakedelic left the band, devoting himself to spiritual practices and psychedelic experiments. Our band hasn’t got him back for a very long time. In those days, the number of session musicians, bassists, and drummers has changed and two concerts were given in clubs Ulitsa and Money Honey. None of the invited musicians, however, could find their place in the group.

In 2017, Freakedelic, who achieved enlightenment, returned to the band together with his wife, Miroslava Antonova (aka DegraDante), who began to play keys, and Maestro brought in a new bass guitarist, Sergey Berezhansky (aka Sotona, aka Diversant). In such a composition, the band recorded its first single in mid-2018: "Surf (Priboy)." This was an important stage in the history of the band, which can be considered the moment of foundation.

By that time, the name of the band had already existed -- Neuropolis. After the release of "Surf" online, a concert was held in the club Banka and one was planned in the club ROUTE148, but difficulties arose. Maestro was fired from our band for his inappropriate behavior and his personal ambitions based on nothing. A week before our concert, the band was left without a vocalist. Sotona invited his old friend Vladimir Alekseev (aka "V") to scream into the microphone at the rep and he immediately made an impression on us with his pitch, and especially the frail, deep lyrics that he immediately wrote for three old versions of songs. We decided that V would perform at ROUTE148 with Neuropolis.

In just a week, a new song was written and the old material was reworked. It was the beginning of the modern history of Neuropolis, which lasts to this day. At the end of 2018, rhythm guitarist Valentin Rebrov (aka "Verghil Alighieri") joined our band. He was invited to our concert by the keyboardist, having just moved from Sakhalin (almost from the other side of the world). He had few friends, so he was interested and offered to write an Intro to one of our songs. Then he decided to become our rhythm guitarist and contributed a lot of good stuff to our band and music. Given the crew we work with today -- and the release our debut EP, 'Temptation' (2019) with V’s lyrics -- there isn’t any reason to for us to break up the band.

This is our sad six-person party in the basement

What was you goal in creating new music together? Did you specifically choose to play music in the doom genre?

We do not think that each of us himself has chosen doom as a genre. Many of us like heavy music: someone is fond of black metal, someone of thrash, someone of death, and someone likes specifically doom. You may like different music, but when you start to create it, it is so-so -- like it comes out of you and if there isn’t one person in the band, the result depends on the preferences of each, so it is a kind of the general mood quintessence. We made doom that sounds quite old-school.

In the end, each of us has his own interests and motivations: for one it is a hobby and profit, for another a leisure time with an instrument in his hands, for the third it is an opportunity to work in a certain genre niche, the opportunity to improve his composing talent. For still others of us it is an opportunity to express emotions in a musical and poetic form. The atmosphere of the genre, its emotional component, is sometimes striking, and in some forms of this genre -- from the smallest detail to the greatest effort -- is worth it to do.

The musicians who love all of these different styles have met and have made doom, therefore it must be fate. The most interesting thing is that doom never bothers us, it resonates with our worldview and perception, it has already become an integral part of us -- minor viscous riffs, powerful drums, texts permeated with doom. This is our sad six-person party in the basement.

Air here is saturated with the fall of several empires and thousands of crippled destinies of young people.

'Temptation' has some very sad and moving moments, indeed. What inspired you to write this pair of songs?

Our first EP is imbued with the spirit of the city we live in, the spirit of St. Petersburg. Life here leaves a certain imprint on perception. We live in a rather shitty climate between the Gulf of Finland and Ladoga Lake. It is cloudy and rainy here, with sunny days in the year limited to about 50. This northern city is considered one of the most depressing in Russia, while it bears the title of the cultural capital of the country. This explosive combination -- depression and creativity -- such mood is close to Scandinavians (Swedes, Norwegians, Danes). But, in addition to the weather, we have a huge area decorated with monuments, cathedrals, buildings, and grotesque mythical figures of granite, which lie on a huge variety of islands, canals, and stone waterfronts.

The air here is saturated with the spirit of the fall -- the fall of several empires, thousands of crippled destinies of young people. The soul of this location is impossible to express through the textbooks. It penetrates inside of us throughout life. Through our creativity we broadcast it.

In addition, if we exclude the influence on our music of recognized masters of doom metal (and their influence is undeniable), such as Candlemass, Saturnus, Katatonia, Saint Vitus, and Black Sabbath, there is something else that inspires us. Here is just the question of whether we will draw inspiration from life. Yes, we draw it from the experience of our own lives. It happened so that each participant of Neuropolis has had quite a difficult fate -- alcohol, drugs, hospitals, wars, suicide, loss. We have seen some shit. Almost every living inhabitant of the planet Earth is faced with these things. This, of course, could not but affect our music and our lyrics. The lyrics of our songs are always permeated with references to both religious texts and masterpieces of classical literature. It's not as easy as it might seem. We're working on every word. And Kim and Verghil sometimes just write good riffs.

This seems like a good time to introduce us to the individual members of the band and tell us what instruments, gear, and amps you all use.

Vladimir Alekseev (aka V) -- vocals, lyrics. Before meeting the musicians, Neuropolis wrote sad lyrics and worked on a solo album in the genre of psychedelic rock. Suddenly, he felt a desire to experiment with extreme vocals and to play old-school doom metal. Microphones: Oktava MK-319, Shure Beta 58A.

Valentin Rebrov (aka Vergil Alighieri) -- guitar, arrangements. Arrived from the other end of the world and joined Neuropolis in late-2018, proving himself as a good sound engineer, reliable guitarist, and talented arranger. Guitar: Schecter Omen-7 Walnut with stock pickups. Pedals: AMT Heater + AMT B2 + AMT Pangaea CP-100

Alexey Antonov (aka Freakedelic Anvy) -- drums. Our drummer is also one of the band's founders. This guy really has seen some shit and in some shit had to play. His custom-crafted drum kit was used to record our Temptation EP, with its iron ED Cymbals Legat and Pearl Eliminator Redline pedal. In everyday life and for gigs he uses a hi-hat Paiste 303, 201 Paiste ride, crash Sabian El Sabor, and Pearl Eliminator. "There was some experience using Axis," he says, "but the chain drive was closer to me."

Dmitriy Kim (aka Kim) -- guitar. One of the founding fathers of Neuropolis. The most beautiful riffs are his job. Guitar: Epiphone Les Paul Custom with prophecy Pickups - EMG 81/85. Guitar processor: Zoom G5n.

Sergey Berezhansky (aka Sotona, aka Diversant) -- bassist, millionaire, playboy, philanthropist. He has two bass-guitars -- the first very strange ESP The Surveyor (there are doubts in originality) and Fender Precision Bass'82 -- plus a rather unique "craft" guitar. Despite its mystique, the ESP sounds pretty good for its price. "Well, Fender just made me happy with a single touch to the strings," he remarks. "In general, this is the very case when playing the guitar, is the great pleasure of the instrument. I use processor Boss GT-1B. It satisfies me completely. I used the delay pedal, but with the help of the processor, this no need to use a separate pedal. And the presence of preamp removed some inconveniences with connecting to different guitar speakers in different rehearsal rooms."

Miroslava Antonova (aka Degradante) -- vocals, lyrics, keyboards. Originally from Ukraine, she met Freakadelic in a chat and moved to St. Petersburg. Instruments: Diapason (mezzo soprano), Akai MPC mkII MIDI keyboard, PC, and reaper. Microphones: Oktava MK-319, Shure Beta 58A.

Some delicate ears do not stand up and bleed a bit from what they hear.

Well, you are certainly loaded for bear! Have you turned your attention to composing new material for an upcoming record?

Good question. We don't want to work on anything else, but it seems to be necessary, because it is stronger than drugs. (laughs) At the moment, we are working on a new EP, Golem, which we plan to release in the fall. This release will be different from EP Temptation, with a sharper, heavier sound. Presumably the Golem will be four new killer songs in the genre of death-doom. We have already recorded some demo tracks for the new EP. Some songs have lyrics, but there is no music and vice versa. Some are completely ready for studio recording. We hope to surprise those who liked our first release.

We want to bring doom metal out of the underground.

What is life like for a heavy music artist in Saint Petersburg? Do people understand your music or is the heavy music scene more of an "underground" phenomenon?

The life of a musician playing heavy music in St. Petersburg is like trying to give people vitamins, while everyone wants to eat a triple burger with sauce. Some delicate ears do not stand up and bleed a bit from what they hear. It's not bad, we love blood -- it's beautiful.

Music takes a lot of time and money, especially when you do something ideological and conceptual, not mainstream. The genre in which we play is not common here. Our music can really be called underground. This is the trend of our time: there is more in fashion pop music and light indie rock, which is convenient to play in bars and clubs. Such music helps the owner of the clubs to sell more alcohol. But we are still a young band, we hope to find like-minded people and organize concerts together. After the release of the second EP we will pay a lot of attention to concert activity. We want to bring doom metal out of the underground and are ready to make a lot of effort, not only in terms of sound, but also in terms of visual performance.

They come to us after the concerts to thank, praise, and even scold us.

Take is into your scene and tell us about some bands you play with that you might recommend to our listeners.

Freakadelic recommends cool Moscow guys Kamni. They play great stoner metal, although in recent years they trend more and more towards psychedelic rock. V recommends Arkona. This is a well-known Russian band. We haven’t not played on the same stage with them, but maybe someday we will be lucky to do it. Arkona's guitarist helped us with the EP Temptation, as we are close to his vision of heavy music. Degradante recommends a wonderful St. Petersburg band Theodor Bastard. Although it is not metal, the guys are original, with a gorgeous sound and interesting vocals. And also black metal collective Second To Sun.

We played with different bands, but we have never met anyone like us. Sometimes we saw a lack of understanding in the eyes of the listeners who came to have a rest after a hard day, but sometimes we saw interest in their eyes. There are all kinds of feedback: they come to us after the concerts to thank, praise, and even scold us, so we are doing something right. This world needs us.

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