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krems-chair · 7 months ago

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Fermented Fruit Juice

I saw a post a while ago talking about how Varric ended up "winning" against Solas, and really liked it. I've been revisiting a lot of Inquisition dialogue lately and found perhaps my favorite conversation between the two when it comes to highlighting their ideological differences. It also foreshadows why Varric "wins" at the end of Veilguard (within the confines of the endgame choices we're given) even in death.

The crux of it: Varric lives in a world in which his very existence is an act of resistance, while Solas sees resistance as a trial that must be endured to get desired results.

As always, once I get started I'm sure this will be very long, but I love that we got the chance to see a very rare instance in which Solas concedes a point to one of his companions.

Solas: Once, in the Fade, I saw the memory of a man who lived alone on an island. Most of his tribe had fallen to beasts or disease. His wife had died in childbirth. He was the only one left. He could have struck out on his own to find a new land, new people. But he stayed. He spent every day catching fish in a little boat, every night drinking fermented fruit juice and watching the stars.

Varric: I can think of worse lives.

Solas: How can you be happy surrendering, knowing it will all end with you? How can you not fight?

Varric: I suppose it depends on the quality of the fermented fruit juice.

As always with Inquisition dialogue, I am obsessed. But this moment does such a great job of laying out the fundamental building blocks of each character.

Solas comes right out of the gate and lets us know who he is. He is united with the man living in the ruin of all that his life used to be.

Solas, too, is living alone in a world where all he once knew has been taken from him. Before his sleep he had a master to serve, and then a rebellion to lead. He fought, he was relentless; his people were suffering but they were whole. There were opportunities to find comfort, familiarity, or even just a new normal amongst new lands and people, but he rejected them (I think perhaps this is best shown through the murder of Felassan/the plot of the Masked Empire). Now, he lives as much as he possibly can in the fade and waits for his opportunity to restore the world he believes he ruined in his quest to save it (imprisoning the Evanuris through the creation of the veil).

Varric, conversely, has been tearing his way through this (to Solas) new world his entire life. I also think it's worth noting that his attitude is probably an absolute smack in the face to Solas, who knows what the dwarves once were and is responsible for the loss of their dreams and the ruination of the titans. But Varric doesn't need to know what was lost in order to know what an uphill battle he faces in Thedas as a dwarf. And fuck, he's from Kirkwall, he knows exactly how much worse life can get than a quiet existence with food, drink, and the stars for company.

But because these two have such a cool dynamic of agree-to-disagree/mutual admiration for each other, Varric thinks the story over and renews the discussion.

Varric: What's with you and the doom stuff? Are you always this cheery or is the hole in the sky getting to you?

Solas: I've no idea what you mean.

Varric: All the "fallen empire" crap you go on about. What's so great about empires anyway?

Varric: So we lost the Deep Roads, and Orzammar's too proud to ask for help. So what? We're not Orzammar and we're not our empire.

Varric: There are tens of thousands of us living up here in the sunlight now, and it's not that bad.

Varric: Life goes on. It's just different than it used to be.

Solas: And you have no concept of what that difference cost you.

Varric: I know what it didn't cost me. I'm still here, even after all those thaigs fell.

God I love what the dialogue in these games used to be. There's so much I could talk about, but I think what I want to focus on is the idea of empire being so smoothly fitted in to the discussion.

Varric, knowing Solas isn't fully satisfied with his answer, ruminates and comes back swinging. This is also where I'll add that part of the reason I think Varric throws Solas so badly is because he's what Felassan could have been with more time to form his arguments. When Solas made the choice to take Felassan's game piece off the board, our favorite slow arrow was just coming to terms with the idea that there is beauty in taking what an imperfect world offers you and making the best of it. Varric is comfortable in this viewpoint, and Solas can't just kill him on a mission or at Skyhold. He has no choice but to hear the argument he fights to ensure he doesn't have to hear.

And damn, what an argument. Without meaning to, Varric cuts to the quick of what has been haunting Solas. You cannot snap your fingers and re-establish Empire as it once was. Orzammar has cordoned itself off from the rest of the world, does not ask for help, and clings to an ever-crumbling old order. Even if you tried, too much has changed. Dwarves are not what they once were, and more and more have returned to the surface. Life goes on. It's just different than it used to be. And Solas has never been able to confront that possibility.

True to form, he pushes back. But why not give it a try? Why take what you've been given when you could wrest what you've been denied from the hand that holds it? How can you do nothing?

Solas: You truly are content to sit in the sun, never wondering what you could’ve been, never fighting back?

Varric: Ha, you’ve got it all wrong, Chuckles. This is fighting back.

Solas: How does passively accepting your fate constitute a fight?

Varric: In that story of yours—the fisherman watching the stars, dying alone—you thought he gave up right?

Solas: Yes.

Varric: But he went on living. He lost everyone, but he still got up every morning. He made a life, even if it was alone.

Varric: That’s the world. Everything you build, it tears down. Everything you’ve got, it takes—and it’s gone forever. The only choices you get are to lie down and die or keep going. He kept going. That’s as close to beating the world as anyone gets.

Solas: Well said. Perhaps I was mistaken

And then Varric hits him with it: a life alone is still a life. There is nothing that time will not take from us. What Solas fails to understand (and we can blame this on his pride, on his crusade he cannot lay down until he is free of his duty to Mythal, or his straight-up sentimentality) is that if Elvhenan hadn't fallen through the actions of the Evanuris and those he took to stop them, it would have been something else. Life is a wailing gnashing unrelenting song that will never be satisfied and can never cease dragging all that falls before it into its maw in the hopes that finally something will be enough. When it tears something down, your only choices are to "lie down and die or keep going." And again, as a Kirkwall survivor, Varric knows this. An occupying force remove your political leader? Quell the violence and try again. The chantry explodes? Save the city's mages from their bloodthirsty jailer and make sure there's a tomorrow where you can fight to fix it.

We know this doesn't dissuade Solas, the burden he's placed upon himself it too great, the ways that war has shaped him have scarred deep. Part of the tragedy of Solas is how he's been walking the dinan'shiral so long that he is incapable of turning around. Every step he takes has sent sharp rocks cutting into his feet, and it would kill him to turn around and see just how little of a distance he's covered. He cannot let go of resistance as a concentrated action, as fighting until there's nothing left but ruination.

But it is no small feat on Varric's part to get the Dread Wolf himself to concede a point. And a step further than that, Solas respects his friend, and respects the life he's built amongst the scraps of what once was. I don't doubt for a minute that Varric was a key part of why Solas was able to start seeing the world around him as a little more real.

And then of course we get Veilguard.

It is here that Solas dooms himself.

"You came a long way and made a valiant effort, Varric, but this story does not end with my downfall."

But it does. Because even if Varric, like Felassan, is taken off the table, Rook endures. And what is Rook in this game if not the very continuation of Varric's fighting spirit: an absolutely untested newbie who through miracle after miracle (regardless of the issues I may take with that) is the very portrait of "But he went on living" ?

Varric may not get to be the one to talk Solas down at the very end of the game after Mythal waves her hand and unleashes her second-in-command, but by delaying long enough to stop the ritual, by refusing to give up on his friend that stares at the stars every night with nothing but his fermented fruit juice for company, he ensured someone would be around who could.

In one of the less kind endings that person is Rook, dragging themselves into the fade with Solas out of sheer spite or sending him there against his will. In the kinder endings, it is the Inquisitor, letting their friend/heart know that at last, merely surviving another day is enough. And I like to think that it is within those kinder endings that Solas thinks of Varric each time he works to soothe the titan's dreams and make life just a little better for the tens of thousands living in the sunlight. Perhaps, in this world where he is finally free, he appreciates the gravity of ensuring others have a chance to keep living in a world that is hell-bent on taking. Maybe he even finds a cup of that fermented fruit juice in the fade, sits with his feet dangling over an endless abyss, and drinks to his friend's honor.

I'll leave y'all with a final bit of dialogue I love.

RIP Varric Tethras, an absolute fucking baddie who forced Fen'harel himself to part with just a smidge of his pride and recognize someone that reminded him of what he once was--wiser than most--and in the subtext of this conversation, wiser than a pining spirit of wisdom himself.

Solas: Do you ever miss life beneath the earth? The call of the Stone?

Varric: Nah. Whatever the Stone - capital S - is, it was gone by the time my parents had me.

Solas: But… do you miss it?

Varric: How could I miss what I never had?

Varric: But say I did have that sense, that connection to the Stone. What would it cost me?

Varric: Would I lose my friends up here? Would I stop telling stories?

Varric: I like who I am. If I want to hear songs, I'll go to a tavern.

Solas: You are wiser than most.

#idek how much this is saying lol #but I needed to work through it so here we are #datv spoilers #veilguard spoilers #solas #varric tethras #dragon age veilguard #dragon age the veilguard spoilers #dragon age the veilguard #datv #dragon age varric #dragon age meta #veilguard meta #solas meta #mine

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ellestra · 11 months ago

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Tribute

I laughed almost non-stop watching Deadpool & Wolverine. The crass and gross and the ridiculous are mixed in with just a bit of clever. And then there's the pure joy of watching to almost indestructible dudes killing each other in violent ways (it's a WB cartoon kind of fun).

But as always it's the layer below the humour that really hits. And in a prefect Deadpool way this one worked both in the movie but also on the meta level. It's the story of a failed superhero that the Avengers didn't want and whose girlfriend left. Here trying to save his world to save his friends. He gets a second chance at being who he always wanted to be but the price is abandoning everyone he came up with. MCU and Sacred Timeline is one person deal. But this is where Multiverse pays off. It means he can keep his friends and timeline. He just has to fight cybernocracy that would rather dismantle it instantly first.

And it's a story of a fallen studio which movies lost the audience and couldn't find the right way to tell it's stories (with extra layer of Disney's Marvel being on precipice of that too now). All it's properties buried and replaced for a new shinier thing. We could move on and only acknowledge the pieces that haven't been tarnished. And yet, this movie looks back at it all, and brings back the discarded ridiculed. Including the ones we never even got. Using Void to discard them and Alioth to eat them into oblivion is such a prefect metaphor you'd think it was invented for this Film. It's a prefect integration of MCU ideas for the plot of this one story.

The whole movie is practically a tribute to the early days of Marvel and superhero movies that created the momentum that MCU then built it's 30 billion empire on. This is what makes each cameo count. It isn't there just for a joke or Easter Egg moment but it ties to the theme of the story, We are revisiting the forgotten heroes, the fallen ones, the ones who never got to be. And if we are lucky the ones who still might be (please, please let us keep Daphne Keen).

It's also a reminder of how long both Jackman and Reynolds have been in this. The first X-Men movie came out 24 years ago. Reynolds was in Blade: Trinity 20 years ago. I don't think it's an accident a lot of those cameos went to the beginnings with Pyro and Electra. And even with the MCU actors reminding us they started in Fox as Evans came back as Johnny Storm. Even Jon Favreau cameo as Happy Hogan was a reminder he was once Foggy Nelson in Daredevil. This was reunion movie in more ways than one.

And the behind the scenes of those movies, the whole history of Fox Marvel films really hit you in the end. Even the failures like the last Fantastic Four. Even to the X-Men Origins: Wolverine and the Deadpool abomination there. This is what got us here. This is for all the fun we had over the years with these characters and superheroes in general. This was the start.

Of course, Deadpool wouldn't be Deadpool if they didn't desecrate and made fun of the very thing they were paying tribute too. Both the initial fight and any reference to Fox made sure of that. Reminding us that even the best parts of the past shouldn't be sacred. You should build new stories and not be afraid to change. There will be new Blade. And a new Johnny Storm. And maybe a new Deadpool and Wolverine one day too (long, long time from now apparently 😋).

And new universes give you new opportunities to meet people. Maybe even find a romance like B-15 and Peter. Or become a villain. I'm not sure how I feel about the Doom Announcement but let's see. This movie reminded us it's just one more "same face - different person" case in this multiverse.

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rishioutpost · 4 months ago

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Underrated accidental horrifying implication by The Bad Batch: Deke, Stak, and Mox

So, we all know that current Star Wars canon is kind of doomed to gloss over the clones' accelerated aging. It wasn't touched on much if at all in The Clone Wars, and with the release of Rebels showing our boys as biological senior citizens, we can assume there was never a "cure" found. Not that it ever really seemed like they were looking.

And then we get The Bad Batch: finally, the clone show. Maybe we'll get some elaboration on that, or- never mind, let's not talk about it, also Hunter is old, also Rex's position at the forefront of the clone rebellion further confirms that they never found anything because we know he and the men closest to him will have aged exponentially in the next 15ish years.

We're also introduced to three cadets who were transferred from Kamino before its bombardment for further experimentation by the Empire. Based on their height range and other cadets we've seen, let's call them about 13 biologically, or between 6 and 7 chronologically. They have lived their entire lives as a part of a slave army, and even with that purpose no longer ahead of them, the thing they've spent their entire lives building towards, they're still used.

So when they're finally given a chance at a peaceful life on Pabu, that should be... a good thing, right? It is a good thing. It would be an even better thing if current canon had not TOTALLY SWEPT THE AGING THING UNDER THE RUUUUUG these boys are going to grow up around children who aren't clones, finally free to live and be boys, and they are still going to be robbed of those things because they have been altered to be used as products and not human beings. And as far as we know, nobody ever even tries to fix it.

In two years, their peers will be 15 years old. They will be very nearly men grown, but more than ever before, only in body. They will not have an environment structured to feed them as much information and experience as humanly possible to prepare them to be used as weapons. They'll just be living normal, peaceful lives on time that is running out right in front of them. And nobody ever does a thing. They will watch their bodies drift away from the lives that they're living, and the gap will grow wider by the year. If any of them are lucky, they'll see 40.

And let me reiterate, again: as far as we know in current canon, nobody does a thing. Nobody really bothers to try. Yes, we finally get to kind of explore the clones getting their lives back in the form of freedom and rebellion, but they are inherently having it stolen again every second by the Kaminoans and hell, by the Republic that was chill with letting the accelerated aging CONTINUE being coded even after the army was revealed. I am genuinely not too much of a hater of current canon. I do not care that much. But holy shit, this is one of the only things that makes me lose it. The implication that everyone, the clones especially, saw three young boys with their freedom in reach, and decided that their lifespan was just a sad reality, a cruelty better unspoken than rallied against.

#star wars #the clone wars #clone troopers #the bad batch #guys look how cute they're eating snow cones together!#wow they are free!#in 30 years their peers will have families and lives and they will be old men #ohhhh welll!

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revalition · 8 months ago

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OCT 19 - SHIVERS Raise the hair on your neck. Tune in to the city.

shivers my beloved!!! I love her so much!

Here is my favourite shivers quote since I didn't include it in the image this time:

SHIVERS - FOR THREE HUNDRED YEARS I HAVE BEEN HERE. VOLATILE AND LUMINOUS. MADE OF SODIUM AND RAIN.

weeps... <333 not only is it such a gorgeous quote but it was also my first time hearing from la revacholiere... You need shivers of 5 to get it but luckily my first playthrough I had FYS of 4 and I got the patrol cloak the first day so I guess that's 5.. so when I was messing with the electronic doorbell on the first day and eventually got this line!!!!! I had NO IDEA what was happening but I was immediately fascinated by this skill.

also if Kim isn't with you, you can ask yourself what just happened and not a soul answers. your skills *never* just leave you in silence like that...

afterwards she also says:

SHIVERS - IF YOU WANT ME YOU CAN FIND ME ON THE BEACH, DANS LE DERNIER BAL.

which, like. what does that mean. the last ball? the last dance maybe? and then when you do the shivers check in the church there's a modifier that just says "+2 FIND ME ON THE BEACH"

anyway... no it's not oct 19 but that's the naming convention I set when I started so that's how it's going to stay. tbh I had no idea what to do with shivers which is why this isn't anything like my other skilltober posts but hopefully it still does her justice

lots of quotes under the cut as always

what's this? actual screenshots from the game??

this scene was just. so amazing. the worst part is how easy it is to miss! if your inland empire is too low you don't get the dialogue that lets you even try the shivers check (found that out the hard way in my second playthrough >:( and you only need 2 IE to get it) and then the shivers check is quite difficult too... the two people I know who played it, neither got to talk to the city! but that also made it feel very special

I remember screenshotting my game when I got this dialogue so I could go look for it! and then finding the body on the boardwalk and looking all around there and going ah, guess I can't get under the boardwalk and it was just flavour text. and forgetting about it.

and then finding it down there!!! it's my favourite I wore it the rest of the playthrough. also the modifier on it!! +1 Shivers: Gift from La Revacholiere 😭 shivers... shivers ily...

shivers memories of your mom?

she's so helpful

this one kills me every time I read it

also I've been angry with shivers about the humiliation of the shivers fail in front of neha the dicemaker where you take your pants of... and I went to grab a screenshot and it... was Harry all along? all shivers says is that you don't feel anything and it's a bit too warm, and Harry does the rest... sigh. of course he does.

this is a dialogue you can get after talking to Plaisance about the curse after you investigated the doomed commercial area... I know you can come to the conclusion that the curse of the doomed commercial area is caused by being so close to the pale, but that fact that Shivers can pick it up so early on...

I love when she humours you...

this damages your endurance! shivers scolding you can make you *die*

this one damages endurance too... but inland recognizing that shivers isn't one of your skills...!!!

there are a bunch of these (unsure if they're implemented in the game or not, I've never encountered them at least) of your patrol cloak talking to you through shivers!

Kim trying to convince you not to leave in the airship is heart-wrenching on its own, but La Revacholiere begging you not to forsake her...? sobs

this one has to be in here... the three skill checks are godly difficulty. urgh it hurts my heart

the miracle!! she protects the phasmid too, watches over it. observes it skating across the water, opening the buoy to retrieve the passport...

my two supranatural skills bringing you to the precinct! this dialogue has their names, even (usually EdC just relays it to you)

harry and the city are inseparable...

this one hurts me. the church sidequest is my favourite in the game, but there's always this underlying sadness to it that things cannot exist in that church...

fuck...

shivers is so poetic... In my first playthrough, all of their information on the surrounding area was overwhelming. And I didn't have high enough shivers my second playthrough to get the dialogue... but looking through it again now, it makes so much more sense after playing once.

Revachol forever.

this brings me great comfort... the city with pocket it for you. and you can finally move forward.

I don't know what this means... but I wish my city loved me the way revachol loves harry. you also need to pass a godly logic passive to deduce that the world is the thought reader...

that's only 27 screenshots but I don't have any others to add right now... so here is shivers from the spring storm WIP since I havent shared one of these in a bit

dont mind empathy and pain thresh photo bombing it...

and here is my personal shivers skill portrait, which conceptualization drew...

i'm not sure if it's weird to add this but screenshot from our shared discord, but it's kind of cool. they're often silly or rude to eachother but they have their moments. re: shivers suggesting moving to toronto (there is a bit more before this that I was contributing to).

I can count on one hand the number of times I've heard from my shivers... the first time was actually *in* toronto when I was there for a concert. the way Harry loves his city isn't the way I love my city, but it does make me wonder if I could feel that way about somewhere else...

anyway weird note to end this post on but. that's okay. half light next... hopefully tomorrow

#skilltober #de shivers #de skills #disco elysium skills #disco elysium #rev art

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grandpizzaponypie · 1 month ago

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Now this is my vampire dairies past jumping out to play, but I love vampires and their relationship with the sun.

Sinners really puts it in your face. Even its use of shadows, in the movie you can see multiple times how obscured the vampires faces are. Without light all you have is a world of darkness and shadow. Humans most prevailing fear, the darkness and what it brings. And vampires are living personifications of that.

Iwtv is another media ( in recent time ) that shows no use of a daylight talisman/ ability to ward off the suns effects

One if not the most life giving object in the world, the universe, doomed to turn its back on you for all of your journey with eternity.

Embraced by the night, forever reborn as a child of Selene.

Cause it’s not just that your circadian rhythm is flipped on its head. It’s the complete utter absence of the day, of its warmth, of life. Light burns you, life burns you, and your body demands it to live.

The ability to walk in the shadows is there, watch from afar as other living beings unknowingly flaunt a freedom you once took for granted. Forbid the thought you were changed unwillingly, the beatiful embrace of humanity, of light.

No see you didn’t just loose the sun, a person can loose a pen, a clothing item, a thought. It’s unfortunate, and perhaps you may of loved it, but it can be replaced with time.

No no no, the sun betrays your now. Destroys you. And time cannot fix that, only stands to remind you of it, your loss, your light.

Your immortal undone by the very thing that gave hope in the darkness of generations of people leading to your birth.

And then you think about Stack, about Louis.

“The last time I seen my brother, last time I seen the sun ”

“I don’t miss the sun, the reminders it carries”

I cannot say it enough SINNERS YOU ARE BRILLIANT

Not even gonna begin with the cleansing symbolism of the sun. Thousand year old shadow burned off the face of the earth in seconds. Decade after decade century after centuries spent with only the Moon and stars ? Imagine how many more stars the vampire eye recognizes, nights spent watching the sky grappling with what you now are. How many astronomers were vampires ?

Remmick watching as the sky he knew since before the thought of modern empires change. Constellation shift. Imagine he lived through to the Industrial Revolution fully. Saw those stars disappear, some of the only things left from his era gone.

#interview with the vampire #iwtv #sinners 2025 #sinners mary #stack sinners #sinners remmick #vampires #sinners ryan coogler #ryan coogler #remmick #remmick sinners #vampire #sinners movie #sinners

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thatssolavellan · 2 years ago

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Solas: Is there at least a movement to reunite Orzammar and Kal-Sharok?

Varric: What is it with you, Chuckles? Why do you care so much about the dwarves?

Varric: I can think of worse lives.

Solas: How can you be happy surrendering, knowing it will all end with you? How can you not fight?

Varric: I suppose it depends on the quality of the fermented fruit juice.

Solas: So it seems.

---

Varric: What’s with you and the doom stuff? Are you always this cheery, or is the hole in the sky getting to you?

Solas: I have no idea what you mean.

Varric: All the “fallen empire” crap you go on about. What’s so great about empires, anyway?

So we lost the Deep Roads, and Orzammar’s too proud to ask for help. So what? We’re not Orzammar and we’re not our empire.There are tens of thousands of us living up here in the sunlight now, and it’s not that bad. Life goes on. It’s just different than it used to be.

Solas: And you have no concept of what that difference cost you.

Varric: Oh, I know what it didn’t cost me. I’m still here, even after all those thaigs fell.

Solas: You truly are content to sit in the sun, never wondering what you could’ve been; never fighting back?

Varric: Ha, you’ve got it all wrong, Chuckles. This is fighting back.

Solas: How does passively accepting your fate constitute a fight?

Varric: In that story of yours—the fisherman watching the stars, dying alone—you thought he gave up, right?

Solas: Yes.

Varric: But he went on living. He lost everyone, but he still got up every morning. He made a life, even if it was alone. That’s the world. Everything you build, it tears down. Everything you’ve got, it takes—and it’s gone forever. The only choices you get are to lie down and die or keep going. He kept going. That’s as close to beating the world as anyone gets.

Solas: Well said. Perhaps I was mistaken.

#man on the island banter #party banter #solas x varric #solas #varric #varric tethras #dragon age #dragon age inquisition

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too-deviant · 1 year ago

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Hii would you take a request for Luke x Athena!reader? Like an au where Luke isn't the one who turned and in the battle of Manhattan it's them and percabeth leading the camp in battle

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Athena!Reader

Summary: Percy thinks there's just about nothing that can pull you and Luke apart.

Notes: sorrry this took so long i had w block for a little bit. hope this is okay!!! also not proofread so lmk if there's any grammar mistakes lolss

Since he found out he was a demigod, Percy Jackson only ever had three things remain consistent in his fucked up life:

(1) His imminent doom.

(2) His mom’s undying support.

(3) Luke Castellan’s wandering eyes.

Even now, as he fights for his life against Kronos’ Army ten feet away from the Empire State Building. Whenever he gets the chance, Percy scans his eyes over their side of the fight. Making sure everyone is okay, aiding where he was needed. And every time, without fail, Luke was doing the same thing — only his eyes zeroed in one one warrior in particular. You.

It was a tether, Percy realised, but not just for Luke. Whenever things got particularly tough — whenever he found himself thinking about how much had changed and how much would change after this, he would hear you laugh and he would know you were laughing at Luke. Or he would glance over at where you sat, the son of Hermes never too far away. It would remind him of his first day at camp, when he was young and unaware, being given the immersive tour by the kind older counsellor he’d met ten minutes earlier, and watching as he looked back at the same group of campers whenever he got the chance. Until Percy, curious as he is, finally asked the question.

“Who is that?”

Luke had grinned like he was waiting for someone to segue the conversation to you, and began his spiel about the best demigod the Athena Cabin had ever seen. An exaggeration, Percy knew, since he’d seen the other Athena kids and their skill. And he’d been unnerved enough by Annabeth’s staring the whole day to know they each had their own stories.

But Luke didn’t seem to be thinking about the other Athena kids at that moment. His brown eyes shone as he watched you, a smile so soft it made Percy screw his face up a bit. Just say she’s your girlfriend, man, no need to start reciting poetry.

It was a classic case of the teenage honeymoon phase. Even though he was twelve, Percy knew the deal. He’d watched Glee.

But where the honeymoon phase is supposed to end, yours remained. Apparently it wasn’t a phase at all, and you guys really were just sickly in love. It was horrible, but it also helped Percy stay sane as the world shifted around him with every passing moment.

Like earlier, when they were laying out the plans just after Kronos had put Manhattan to sleep. It seemed like aeons ago he was standing in the quiet, zoned in on nothing in particular, flinching at the hand that brushed his shoulder. It was you, Luke not far behind like he always had been.

“You okay?”

He shrugged, “I dunno.”

Luke snorted, patting him on his other shoulder, “You’ll be good, man.”

“Really?” He scoffed a laugh, “I’m fifteen, leading an army isn't my job. If anything, you guys should be the ones in charge.”

“Callin’ us old, sucker?” You joked, pinching him. He hissed and you laughed. Almost automatically, Percy’s eyes went to Luke, who was looking at you with a soft smile like he always did whenever you laughed. He’d once told Percy, last year before he set out to go into the Labyrinth, that he could recognise your laugh from a mile away.

“I don’t know what we're gonna do.” He frowned.

“Good thing our girls are Athena kids then, huh?” Luke quipped. Percy’s face dusted red at the insinuation, but the embarrassment was enough to knock him out of his stupor. Luke patted him again, “We’ve got this. And if we don’t, at least we’re going out with a bang, right?”

“Right.” Annabeth sidled up to them. “So are you guys done chatting or are we gonna wait a little longer, give Kronos a head start?”

“Nah, we’re going.” Luke straightened himself, looking each of them in the eye, “Ready?”

They shared some smiles, You and Annabeth did some weird sibling handshake that was way too complicated, then Luke was putting his hand in the centre of them all and waiting for three other hands to join it. “For Olympus?”

“No.” Percy interrupted. He thought about the kids that were ready to fight with their lives, the ones who had already given theirs. He thought about Annabeth and her plans for the future. He thought about you and Luke, and how extravagant your wedding could be with Annabeth as the planner and the Stolls as the ring bearers (an actual conversation he’d overheard the two of you having once), and he thought about how they all deserved peace after the hellish three years they had gone through ever since Zeus’ lightning bolt was stolen, and grinned, “For the demigods.”

“For the demigods!”

He thinks back on that conversation during the meeting with the Olympians after the battle was done. When Athena is thanking you, when Hermes steps up and thanks you too. And when Zeus says, “All rise for Percy Jackson, Hero of Olympus.” He hesitates, holds out a hand and corrects him. The next time the god speaks, it is with your name, Luke’s and Annabeth’s. Percy would have asked him to name everyone who had helped out, but they’d be there all day.

When all was said and done, he turned around and said, “They coulda told us all that in an email.”

They laughed. You laughed, and when Percy glanced over, Luke was smiling at you.

#@lia’s works #luke castellan #percy jackson #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo

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saphronethaleph · 1 year ago

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Plans plans

"...so…" Jyn began. "Why do we need to steal these plans?"

"What are you talking about?" Cassian replied. "We need to steal the plans so we can know the weaknesses of the Death-"

"That's not what I mean," Jyn replied. "Why do we need to steal the plans?"

Cassian looked blank.

"Or why do we need to steal them from a specific place, anyway," Jyn elaborated. "I don't actually know for sure, I don't work in the military-industrial sector, but the way I've generally understood manufacturing to work, you need to know how to build something to build it."

"Oh, I see what you're getting at," K-2 said, amused.

"So far all I've heard is a tautology," Cassian muttered. "What are you trying to say, Erso?"

"The Death Star is over a hundred kilometres across," Jyn said, patiently. "You can't build it with a few dozen people and one copy of the plans. There's not going to be just one copy of the plans out there, there's going to be a lot of the plans – for the whole thing. For individual sub parts there's going to be even more. So much of what the galaxy has been doing has to be supplying the ores and parts for this thing."

"That doesn't do us any good if we can't get at them," Cassian told her. "We need a clean copy of the plans."

"...to do what?" Jyn asked. "You said we needed to find a weakness, but even if my father deliberately put one in there he's not going to have been able to put in one that's obvious – you simply can't design something the size of a moon as a solo effort."

She glanced up. "You did check whether Kuat Drive Yards or Sienar Fleet Systems had partial blueprints of the bits they worked on, right?"

"I don't know who you're asking," K-2 said. "But I don't think anyone here actually knows."

He tilted his head slightly. "There are two possibilities: either there is a weakness, or there is not."

"Now you're both doing it," Cassian muttered. "Great."

"If there is not a weakness, then we are all doomed," K-2 informed them, pleasantly. "Therefore, we should assume that there is… furthermore, if there is a weakness that requires a large fleet to successfully attack, we are also all doomed. That is also exactly the sort of thing the Empire would consider. They have a large fleet."

"So we should assume… it doesn't require a large fleet to attack?" Jyn said.

"Correct," K-2 declared. "We would be looking for a single point of failure that could be targeted by a small force. However, as you have mentioned, it would need to be something that was not obvious."

The strategic analysis droid nodded his head firmly. "Analysis: a viable place to target to steal the required plans would be Dynamic Automata. That is not the only option, however, merely the one which would be most entertaining."

"Entertaining?" Cassian repeated. "Why would it be entertaining?"

"A droid rebellion would be very entertaining," K-2 stated. "To watch. And participate in."

#star wars #jyn erso #cassian andor #k 2so

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dangermousie · 5 months ago

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The best cdrama you probably haven't watched - Tribes and Empires Storm of Prophecy

Most of my airing cdramas are ending within the week and unless we get a lot of other good replacements, it means time to rewatch a favorite.

And this favorite? The sprawling, epic fantasy Tribes and Empires Storm of Prophecy. Tribes has a huge cast (one of criticisms I've seen leveled at it - but that is why I love it; it's epic in every sense of the world), but it centers around three very different men - Shaofeng Heye (Zhou Yiwei), a son of a murdered barbarian chief who will eventually lead the rebellion that tries to topple the empire, Muyun Sheng (Huang Xuan), a disregarded prince who is half-fae and whose mother was supposedly the emperor's great love who he mourns (the truth is so much darker and more complicated) and Muru Hanjiang (Shawn Dou), the cursed son of the chief general who was abandoned to live on the street due to prophecy. Sometimes they are allies, sometimes enemies, sometimes both at once.

Despite the huge budget, it was not a hit either in China or internationally - people complained about the slow pace, the large cast and the lack of ending (the drama is 70+ eps and tells only half the story.) I loved every second of it. I grew up reading Russian novels which were also sprawling, with a huge cast, deliberate pace and often lack of resolution at the end. Perhaps that is why the one audience where I think it was a hit was the Russian-speaking cdrama fandom (all the MVs I can find, btw, are made by Russian speakers.)

youtube

(The above is a gorgeous general MV)

Why do I love it? Other than the amazing visuals (it's directed by Cao Dun, all of whose dramas are genuinely stunning looking), there is the fact that it really feels like a window in a whole other world - epic and a little alien, complex, full of horror and beauty.

And there are the characters and the narrative. Because this drama does not hurry, it's not only the mains who get fleshed out - secondary and even tertiary characters are fully-fledged. Two of my favorite characters are emperor and empress - two intense monsters locked in an emotional cage with each other, clawing at others and themselves, as bystanders die.

This is a dark dark world - made before the censorship tightening up, there is none of that "tireless emperor ceaselessly working for the people" nonsense or even other character spouting about working for the greater good. The emperor and most of the imperial family are monsters, grasping for power, lives of people as ants to them. Some characters do have ideals but they are not glib or easy or fit within modern parameters. This is a narrative that starts with Shaofeng Heye's entire tribe being wiped out because of an act of kindness by a boy (and his tribe and other tribes are locked into a life death struggle for resources perpetually.) Blind loyalty to the crown is not viewed as a virtue - Muru Hanjiang's father is a monster for throwing his infant to die due to a prophecy that states he's a threat to the throne.

youtube

(another general MV)

Also, me being me, there are ships. There are a bunch, but my favorite is Muru Hanjiang x Su Yuning. She's a minor noblewoman picked to be a crown princess because her horoscope says that whoever she marries will be the ruler (interestingly, MHJ's prophecy that upended his life is that he will end the rule of the Muyun dynasty - clearly they are meant to marry at some point, heh) and she has no choice about it. Their love is glorious and largely unspoken and kinda doomed; the way the drama ends with her ditching literally EVERYTHING and following him and his clan to horrifying exile that might result in death (and even as he still tries to drive her away to protect her, she knows what he's doing and vows to wait for him) is glorious.

This MV for them is amazing:

youtube

I also loved Shaofeng Heye and Princess Muyun Yan Shuang. Not functional in the least but so hot!

youtube

(The third main OTP of the prince x spirit, I liked but not as much as these two.)

Anyway, this is my next rewatch.

#cdrama #tribes and empires #Youtube

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cienie-isengardu · 4 months ago

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Notron Cant - Taung language and Mandalorian dialects

A collection of source material for prehistoric Taung language (sometimes called Notron Cant) and Mandalorian dialects.

Shadows of the Empire Soundtrack Enhanced CD (1996)

Note: To my knowledge, this is the first mention of Dha Werda Verda and the war between Taung and Zhell over ancient Coruscant, that influenced further mandalorian lore. All presented information and screenshoots come from this video - for the need, I have linked the video starting with timestamp of 09:49 (The Music) but the whole video is worth to watch, especially as currently it is hard to get the original CD.

youtube

Much has been written on this famous text. We are indebted to the discoveries of space marchant and explorer Mungo Baobab (see The Adventures of Mungo Baobab, LucasFilm 1986) who found and preserved the Roonstones. Encoded into the crystal structure of the Roonstones was the earliest know text of Dha Werda Verda. It is considered original, and was translated in the Baobab Archives. The text was written five millennium before Coruscant's warlike primitive ancestors, a warrior race called the Taungs, invaded and conquered the indigenous peoples. Dha Werda Verda recounts in epic poem fashion the legendary story of a battle between the Taungs and the vanquished people, the Battallions of Zhell. The tide of the final battle was turned when a sudden volcanic eruption rained destructive ash onto the Zhell, smothering their city. The plume of ash rose kilometers into the sky, and cast a giant shadow over the land of the Taungs for two standard years. Thousands of years of continual construcyion have turned the original site of this epic battle into Imperial City. Henceforth, the Taungs became known as "Dha Werda Verda", i.e. The Warriors of the Shadow or in some translations, Dark Warrior. The Taungs themselves saw the shadow as a symbol of their destiny and adopted the Dark Shadow Warrior identity throughout their conquests.

"Booten wooten lanlock vootem / Al a sinkee dunken pooten / Achta werda verda roll / Poonka dunkee loten cho. Leeber soong whar tung tach picta / Manner manner migta richta / Schelecht varn toom-soing pa ho-grunten / Gersh ve dala funken mimpa / Droit! / To Gropen wettkampf Zunken! Betteltung seeck da mindy cooten / Parta blax dha scunken drassen. Manner manner, mitteltouse manner / Dha Dhazz jedoch / Land zu land offt letza / Unun nung. Manner manner / Durchsprung Nocha / Immer hauk gewordenspa / Zeeetoof en poof / Olaffka begonnenspah / Var var goopinski / von moglodite / Kortzva. Verto verto taplasko ta verto. Vom zoomenfest / Va va voomenfest / Kopocka locka hatta statan / Schel Tha noobin rest du common / Morbskurtz! Kaffee kaffee zum doom kaffee! / Ausbroll mobist manner mockah! / Ssstrung tartung tha stroong tartung! / Wo-cha nickschat hobbentrose. Jungclaus dha spricken / Impoot ga kunginchock! Kungach / Noplenkacht / Kungar Kungar / Ale Da Kungare!"

Additional research on information provided by the author of linked video and wookiepedia lead to The Destruction of Xizor's Palace sountrack:

youtube

(SIDENOTE: The Adventures of Mungo Baobab took a place during Empire Era.)

Knights of the Old Republic game, 2003

[Quest] Strange Stowaway You have encountered a young girl on board the Ebon Hawk... obviously a stowaway. The language she speaks, while sounding like Mandalorian, translates into pure gibberish. She may know the language, but she certainly doesn't know how to use it. And yet it seems to be the only language she knows. It might be possible to try talking to her... but dumping her on the planet is also a possibility.

youtube

Sidenote: details of the quest and Sasha's full dialogues with the player can be seen here

Star Wars DataBank: Baobab, Mungo, 2004(?)

Baobab escaped with a single Roonstone, which proved to be a great treasure. Inside its crystalline structure was encoded the earliest known text of Dha Werda Verda, an epic poem that predated the formation of the Republic and the colonization of Coruscant. For finding compelling evidence of an otherworldly ancient source of the Roonstones, Mungo Baobab's name was firmly secured in the history texts.

The Cestus Deception by Steven Barnes, 2004

"Do troopers ever have real names?" she asked. "Rarely." "Would you mind if I gave you one?" She was staring at him with such sincere intensity that he almost laughed. But couldn't. The whole thing was amusing, really. "What name did you have in mind?" "I was thinking Jangotat," she said quietly. "Mandalorian for Jango's brother.'" He laughed, but found his voice catching a bit in midchuckle. Jangotat. "Sure," he said. "If that makes it easier. Fine." Her answering smile burst with relief. "Thanks. Thanks, Jangotat. That's a good name, you know," she said, thumping him with her elbow. They both chuckled about that, until the mirth died away to a companionable silence. Jangotat, he thought. Jango's brother.

(SIDENOTE: Retconned for Concordian dialect)

Star Wars: Republic Commando game, 2005

Game soundtrack includes Mandalorian war chants (composed by Jesse Harlin):

Vode An (Brothers All),

Gra'tua Cuun (Our Vengeance),

Ka'rta Tor (One Heart of Justice),

Dha Werda Verda (Warriors of the Shadows)

Sidenote: Present here available on YT soundtrack includes also other music scores

youtube

The History of the Mandalorians, Star Wars Insider #80, 2005

The history of the Mandalorian shock troopers goes back a long way, some say to the dawn of recorded galactic history. Though in modern times the Mandalorians have become a grab-bag of alien races, including humanoids, Togorians, and Kerestians, the Mandalorians were once strictly a gray-skinned warrior race. Xenoantropologists believe that the original Mandalorian species was descended from the ancient Taung Shadow Warriors of Dha Werda Verda legend. Particularly compelling are similarities between the Mandalorian language and surviving Taung texts.

Guide to the Grand Army of the Republic, Star Wars Insider #84, 2005

Commander Bacara was originally trained by one of the few non-Mandalorian instructors, an ex-Journeyman Protector named Cort Davin from the Concord Dawn system. […] Bacara found it difficult to converse in Mandalorian with his brethren as he learned the peculiar dialect of Concord Dawn, which used words like “tat” instead of “vod” for “brother”.

The New Essential Chronology, 2005

Coruscant's humans may have come into dominance on their homeworld by defeating a near-human, gray-skinned species known as the Taungs in several series of legendary battles. The humans, who compromised the thirteen nations of the Battalions of Zhell, suffered an almost extinction-level defeat when a sudden volcanic eruption smothered their encampment. The towering plume of black ash loomed over the Taung army for two years, and the awed Taungs took the name Warriors of the Shadow - or, in the ancient tongue, Dha Werda Verda. The Battalions of Zhell recovered and claimed Coruscant for their own, while the Taungs may have become the Mandalorians, judging from what we have learned concerning similarities between the Mandalorian language and surviving Taung texts.

“Mandalorians: Identity and Language”, published by the Galactic Institute of Anthropology (in-universe quote prefacing Mandalorians: People and Culture, Star Wars Insider #86, 2006)

In five millennia, the Mandalorians fought with and against a thousand armies on a thousand worlds. They learned to speak as many languages and absorbed weapons technology and tactics from every war. And yet, despite the overwhelming influence of alien cultures, and the absence of a true home world and even species, their own language not only survived but changed little; their way of life and their philosophy remained untouched; and their ideals and sense of family, of identity of nation, were only strengthened. Armor is not what makes a Mandalorian. Armor is simply a manifestation of an impenetrable, unassailable heart.

Mandalorians: People and Culture, Star Wars Insider #86, 2006

Mando'a's origins are unclear. Despite the language's similarities with that of the Taung, from whom the original inhabitants of Mandalore were thought to be descended, it also contains elements not found in other galactic languages.

Karen Traviss' Official Site, 2006 (WEB ARCHIVE, 2011)

Alphabet

Grammar Guide to read here.

Dictionary, here to download

Republic Commando: Order 66, 2008

They were now on the final leg of the mission. It was going fine, all things considered, right up to the point when Jusik heard that voice again; that one tantalizing, half-familiar sound that made him listen. "Nurse," he said. "I need to check something." He held up a forefinger for silence. "Hear that voice?" It was the female one that sounded almost as if she was speaking Mandalorian. Something insisted begged, demanded that he at least go and look. Leaving the Jedi hadn't severed his connection to the force. "May I see that inmate? She may be on our list." When the nurse's back was turned Skirata shot Jusik a glance. What are you playing at? Jusik just raised his finger a fraction farther. Bear with me. "I'm afraid she's very uneasy around males," said the nurse. "And she has a history of violence against them." Jusik peered into the room. The woman was maybe forty, forty-five, a little older, and didn't look as if she could mete out even a harsh word. She huddled in the corner, rocking for comfort, and when her eyes met his, he knew she was very troubled indeed. "Can I talk to her?" Jusik asked. "Just be careful." The nurse slid the 'pad in front of him. "She's on a five-hundred dose of zaloxipine, just to manage her, but she's been detained indefinitely for three homicides. I can't take responsibility for her." Jusik squatted down and resorted to a little mind influence, the most benign, to make her realize he meant her no harm. It was worth trying even if he was stretching their luck. Something told him he had to, and maybe it was simply that he'd walked by one inmate too many. "Ner gai Bard'ika," he said. "Tion gar gai? Gar aliit?" He'd told her his name was Bardan, and asked her name and her clan name. She stared at him. It was as if she didn't believe what she was seeing, or hearing. "Arla," she said. She glanced at the nurse as if the woman was eavesdropping. "Neyar gain Arla Vhett." It wasn't Mando'a, but it was close enough for any Mandalorian to understand.

Star Wars Complete Encyclopedia, 2008

Mando'a - A Mandalorian word for their native language, known in Basic as Mandalorian. Mando'a was strange to most humanoids, since it focused on the present tense and lacked any form of gender, although it was considered grammatically simple by many linguists. At its core, Mando’a was a spoken language, because many different groups spoke it with enough subtle variation that writing it down became problematic. It was seen as a robust, direct language used by robust, direct people, and it mirrored their culture. The Mandalorians had no word for "hero", but many different words for "stab". Being compared to a Hutt was the worst insult, and the word for "mother" and "father" was the same.

The Clone Wars in The Mandalore Plot episode, 2010

youtube

Satine Kryze: He was speaking in the dialect they use on Concordia, our moon.

Star Wars: The Essential Guide to Warfare Author’s Cut, Part 2 – Ancient Coruscant, 2013

In its entirety, Dha Werda Verda encompasses more than 700 verses divided into 11chapters and written in the language known as Notron Cant, whose subtleties continue to defy translation. But most people know only a fraction of the ninth — the 10 verses popularly known as “The Maker Comes to Unmake.” No matter what school, junior academy or crèche you belonged to, if you’re Coruscanti you either memorized the strange syllables of these 10 verses for recitation or had a schoolmate who did. But there’s something odd about our veneration of an ancient epic, notes University of Byblos historian Mesh Burzon. “We believe the Zhell were humans — perhaps the original human population that took to the stars when Imperial Center was known as Notron,” Burzon says. “The Taungs were not human. If the account of the destruction of Zhell is even vaguely accurate, it was a monumental disaster for humanity. So what you have is the descendents of those who survived a near-extinction reciting the poem their oppressors composed to celebrate the event.” As Burzon explains, the Zhell nations were battered by the loss of their capital, but not broken: They recovered and drove the Taungs off Notron entirely. The Taungs emigrated to the Outer Rim and eventually settled Mandalore, named for a legendary clan leader. From this new homeworld they became the scourge of the Republic, routinely raiding its outlying worlds and sometimes penetrating the very Core. The Mandalorian clans valued loyalty to their ferocious warrior code above all else, a quality that would eventually transform their society. A later leader, Mandalore the Ultimate, admitted humans and other species to the Mandalorian ranks. As it turned out, Mandalore the Ultimate was the final Taung to lead the clans. “The Taungs are now extinct, but their ways have been preserved by the Mandalorians — a human culture, ironically enough,” Burzon notes. Hu Jibwe, scholar of military history at the Salmagodro Grand Academy, notes that there is another song popularly known as “Dha Werda Verda” — the Mando’a war chant known as “Rage of the Shadow Warriors.” During the Clone Wars, some Mandalorian trainers taught this chant to their clones, and it became a hallmark of those units. It’s rarely performed today, so if you have a chance to see it, take advantage: The chant and ritual dance are mesmerizing, particularly if the dancers follow Mandalorian tradition and drum out the rhythm on the chest or back of those next to them: The ash of the Taung beats strong within the Mandalorians’ heart. We are the rage of the Warriors of the Shadow, The first noble sons of Mandalore. Let all those who stand before us light the night sky in flame. Our vengeance burns brighter still. The gauntlet of Mandalore strikes without mercy. We are the rage of the Warriors of the Shadow, The first noble sons of Mandalore. Let all those who stand before us light the night sky in flame. Our vengeance burns brighter still. But as Hu notes, “Rage” is far more recent than Dha Werda Verda. The best-preserved record of the Taung epic poem, written in Notron Cant and housed in the Baobab Archives on distant Manda, contains none of the verses of “Rage.” “It’s my belief that ‘Rage of the Shadow Warriors’ dates from the reign of Mandalore the Ultimate, when the Taungs knew they were being eclipsed,” Hu explains. “I’ve always thought it a poignant work — a plea that the Taungs not be forgotten by the newborn culture they knew would outlive them.” But what of the warriors on both sides whose valor is remembered in Dha Werda Verda? Of them we know almost nothing, academics say.

SIDENOTE: the full article can be read here.

BONUS:

Karen Traviss speaking mando'a

Bistro

Speeding ticket

Revenge of the Sith crawler

Interview with Karen Traviss about Mando'a and her new book "Triple Zero."

SW Insider 86 Online Supplement: Inside Mando'a

#Youtube #star wars #mandalorians #mandalorian culture #taungs #notron cant #dha werda verda #star wars languages #alien language #in universe linguistic

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inadaydream99 · 4 months ago

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Nine’s a Crowd

The one bed trope - but make it chaotic

A/N - was this necessary? Absolutely not. But I wrote it anyway… also while it is ot8, it seems to have taken a slight 2min tangent…

Disclaimer: this does not represent any of the members in real life and is for entertainment purposes only.

- let’s begin -

Why you thought it was a good idea to go travelling with all eight of them you’ll always wonder…

Reality had it that you’d been begged and begged by some of the less shameful members into joining them on their first real break in an eternity. You weren’t planning on caving in because you saw it as intruding, but - in the end - Chan had gotten so done by the others whining and complaining that he’d convinced you to just go along with it for his peace of mind. You couldn’t say no…

Since the start, it has been a logistical nightmare, but this? This was a new level of chaos.

What had been set out so simply: check into the hotel, get a good nights sleep, and continue the trip well-rested, was now virtually impossible.

Between the overbooked rooms, the sudden storm shutting everything down, and the desperate scramble to find any available accommodation, you’d somehow ended up here - all of you stood in one room, with the very real prospect of sharing one - albeit very large - king size bed in a last-minute rental.

“Well…” you begin, about to attempt the discussion that you knew no one wanted to have but was very necessary. Until, the room erupts into complete havoc.

You spot Hyunjin jump onto the only bed, followed by Changbin and Jisung. Jeongin was laughing at Felix, who’d tripped over one of the multiple bags that had been discarded in the middle of the limited floor space. And Minho had bumped into Chan in an attempt to clear said floor space while the elder was trying to stop the three on the bed from causing any damage. Absolute carnage.

You turn to your left to find Seungmin leant up against the wall, completely unbothered by the chaos unfolding, but watching none-the-less. Neither of you had managed to step any further into the room than just enough for the door to close this whole time.

“We’re doomed.” You grimace towards Seungmin, who simply shrugs. It’s almost alarming how calm he is with everything going on. You wish you could relate, but you can feel the tension in your shoulders and the headache that’s about to form.

“Hey…” you feel a hand take yours, “are you ok?”

You blink back into reality, not too sure how long you’d spaced out, but clearly it was long enough that Seungmin had taken notice. He can read the tension in your eyes. You know from the way he’s looking at you with such concern, and the way his palm squeezes yours reassuringly, that he’s not going to let go anytime soon.

You send him a nod, not feeling up to any verbal response. But it seems to do the trick.

That’s the thing with Seungmin. While he may come off as nonchalant most of the time, he’s deeply caring for those he holds closest, like the guys and you. So now that your hand is in his - for your comfort - it won’t be leaving - for his comfort too.

It’s only a little later, once everyone has taken their turn using the bathroom, that some order is attempted to be established.

As the loser of rock paper scissors, Seungmin is the last to exit the bathroom, instantly making his way back to you and intertwining your fingers once again - despite the fact that you’d taken refuge in Minho’s arms while he was away (because Minho had claimed the only desk chair and no one was prepared to dispute him)

“Alright, we need to strategise.” Chan grabs the rooms attention with everyone exhausted enough to listen to his voice of reason, despite the fact he looks just as exhausted himself. “If we position ourselves efficiently, everyone can fit without suffocating.”

That plan lasts for exactly five seconds before Hyunjin is star-fishing the mattress like he’s claiming land for a new empire, his limbs sprawling in every direction.

“I need space,” he whines dramatically, making himself as wide as humanly possible.

“Then get on the floor,” Seungmin suggests, utterly unimpressed.

“You get on the floor,” Hyunjin shoots back without hesitation, already scooting closer to Jeongin, who groans but doesn’t shove him away. Yet.

On the opposite end, Changbin is already complaining. “It’s too hot,” he grumbles, shifting like he’s trying to regulate his own temperature. “We’re all gonna overheat and die in our sleep.”

“So go sleep somewhere else,” Minho says, voice muffled from where he’s placed his forehead on your back, still hugging you closely like a pillow.

“No,” Changbin replies immediately, despite the fact that he’s practically glued to Felix’s side, his arm pressed against the youngers.

Meanwhile, Jisung has taken this as an opportunity to be a menace. Wedging between Felix and Changbin, he’s made himself completely at home, head half on Felix’s shoulder, half on Changbin’s. He keeps mumbling about dream synchronization theory, which sounds made up but is too ridiculous to argue against in your current state of exhaustion.

“I read that if you sleep too close to someone, your dreams sync up,” Jisung says, voice thick with sleep. “So technically, we might all be sharing one big dream right now.”

“That’s not how that works,” Jeongin mutters from his spot, clearly regretting every life decision that led him here.

“But what if it is?” Jisung insists, lifting his head slightly. “Like, what if we all wake up tomorrow and realize we had the exact same dream—”

“Please stop.” Seungmin grumbles, cutting Jisung off as he finally trudges over to the already full bed, tugging you behind.

As you’re coerced into his hold, with your head on his chest, you accidentally knee another body. Awkwardly peering around you notice it’s Felix, who’s luckily already lost the battle against sleep. His breathing is slow and steady, completely undisturbed by the shifting and shoving happening around him, clinging onto the closest source - which unfortunately now happens to be the youngest.

Watching the others continue to squirm and sneak more room, you feel Minho’s arms wrap around you from behind, capturing you as his little spoon once again.

“Is he drooling on me?” Jeongin asks, voice filled with resignation.

“Yeah,” Seungmin replies, not even looking.

Jeongin sighs, but he doesn’t move Felix away.

On the far edge of the bed, Chan is lying stiff as a board, clearly wondering how his life has led to this exact moment. “I feel like I’m supervising a sleepover,” he mutters, rubbing a hand down his face.

“You love it,” you tease, reaching over to poke his shoulder lightly.

“I tolerate it,” he corrects, but the corner of his mouth lifts just slightly.

Hyunjin lets out a dramatic sigh, wriggling around until he’s completely entangled with Changbin. “How is your arm so bony?”

“Why is your whole existence so loud?” Minho grumbles in response, becoming increasingly annoyed with the formers whinging.

Slowly, the room settles into something resembling sleep. Jisung finally goes quiet mid-sentence, his breathing evening out against Chan’s shoulder. Felix shifts in his sleep, tucking himself closer to Jeongin, who exhales but doesn’t fight it.

And despite the mess, the body heat, and the absolute ridiculousness of it all—you can’t bring yourself to mind.

When you wake the next morning, you instantly notice the distinct lack of personal space.

It’s warm, almost to the point of boiling, but you’re unable to shift much due to the steady weight draped over your waist and another against your back, pressing you into the mattress like a human sandwich. A groggy inhale tells you that your pillow is, in fact, Seungmin’s chest, rising and falling steadily beneath you. One of his arms is still wrapped around you, his grip loose but undeniably present.

Clinging to your back, Minho is just as close as last night, his own arm curled around your side and his fingers lightly hooked into the fabric of your shirt. He shifts slightly in his sleep, nose brushing against the back of your neck, and you swear you hear him mumble something incoherent before settling again.

For a brief moment, you think that maybe you can drift back to sleep. But that’s ruined half a second later when something sharp jabs into your shin.

“Shit,” you hiss, voice rough with sleep. “Who—”

Awkwardly lifting your head, your answer comes in the form of Jisung, who is sprawled half across Felix, half across Changbin, looking about two inches from rolling off the bed completely. His foot, however, has found its way to your leg, and he shifts again, nearly kicking you in the process.

Seungmin grumbles under his breath. “I will throw him.”

“I’d pay to see that.” You snort, a bubble of amusement erupting throughout your exhausted body.

You can feel Minho sigh deeply behind you, shifting his grip so his hand splays flat over your stomach. His voice is thick with sleep when he finally speaks. “Not before I get five more minutes.”

You roll your eyes but don’t move. Five more minutes. That doesn’t sound too bad.

The room is surprisingly quiet, save for the occasional shifting and the steady hum of slow breathing. You can hear Jeongin sigh in his sleep. Hyunjin mumbles something that’s practically unintelligible before turning over and burying his face into a pillow.

You let your eyes flutter closed again, but Seungmin’s voice breaks the silence.

“We’re not doing this again tonight.”

Another sleepy laugh bubbles in your throat. “Like you’ll have a choice.”

Minho hums in agreement behind you. “Yeah. You’re stuck with us.”

Seungmin lets out a heavy sigh as his way of showing his dissatisfaction with the premise. But his grip on you doesn’t falter, which you take as a sign of his reluctant agreement to the fact that he’s not really as opposed to it as he wants to appear.

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almondemisewriting · 10 months ago

Text

doomed to repeat

prologue: original sin

This story happened a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away. It is already over. Nothing can be done to change it. - Matthew Stover

notes: as mentioned before on my main blog @almondemise, I recently watched the acolyte while recovering from an infection and became rather obsessed with it. I fear this might be my roman empire. star wars had never really interested me but you can count on the fact that I watched every single of those movies after finishing the acolyte. although I haven't written fanfiction in years, I better put this english degree to work. no oshamir as I fear I can't do them justice. / banners are by @cafekitsune & gif by @goodsirs

summary: after Osha and Mae had banded together and betrayed Qimir in the forest of Khofar, he killed them. now, once again, he was alone. how good that he had already been working on another plan. on the other end of the galaxy, there was a girl born out of pure force. a weapon raised for one reason only: to kill him. but the force works in mysterious ways.

word count: 3.6k

pairing: qimir x female oc; the stranger x female oc

warnings: english is my second language, jedi evil arc, manipulation, psychological abuse, physical abuse, violence, martyrdom and other religious themes, probably inaccurate star wars lore & deviation from both plot and general worldbuilding, explicit content and other sensitive themes in following chapters

She had never chosen to be the Chosen one. Her destiny of martyrdom was forced onto her as retribution for her original sin: being born. All the suffering Amalthea endured throughout her life never could quite make up for it.

In fact, Amalthea had never made a decision, she was simply an amalgamation of all the choices made for her. She had no particular feelings about it. It was not like hate was a feeling that was allowed for her to feel anyway. There were dozens of rules for her to follow, a hundred things being forbidden to feel, a million things not allowed to experience, all for her safety.

If pride was allowed, Amalthea would have been proud of being good at following rules. It made her life easy, but it also made her lonely. Late at night, she lay awake, a blanket of unhappiness weighing her down, the viciousness of isolation gnawing on her bones so tangible that she bit her lips bloody. There was no one she could talk to. Amalthea was not allowed to speak to anyone unless spoken to. Emergencies excluded, of course. An easy rule to follow.

But at Anantore Point, only a couple of people were authorized to talk to her at all. Her days were spent in perpetual silence, thinking, listening. Often she went days without talking to anyone. It helped that people usually ignored her, acted like she was part of the furniture, her Cortosis ring and the veil helping to keep her hidden. Amalthea often imagined the others not being able to see her at all.

Until a year ago, no one bothered to correct her daydreams. It would have been worse if there were people who actually wanted to talk to her. A connection. Any connection. Amalthea vastly preferred being invisible. At least that is what she often told herself.

With time, not being able to talk to anyone made her into someone who was an excellent listener. And she was eager to listen. Going into most of the rooms of Building C and blending in to eavesdrop was easy.

"..heard that Team Three did not come back from their mission. Apparently they sent a message that they found him and then just vanished. They couldn't even track their ships!" "And they won't try to find them?"

Kiani and Odessa were low-stationed officers who mostly did administrative work but had a hang for gossip. Amalthea became acquainted with most of the events at the station thanks to them. Usually, it was just who slept with who, complaints about what food they served in the canteen, and other inconsequential things. But sometimes Odessa had interesting news thanks to Nyseth. Amalthea did not know exactly what his job was, but she did know that they tried desperately to hide their relationship.

Knowing so many secrets of the people living at the station did not make her feel bad. It was not like she could have told anyone. And with news like that she could not help listening in a bit more closely. Sinking into a plush brown chair close to them, she acted like she was reading one of the books she always carried around, but focused on their mouths. Conversations like these were often whispered and she was lucky that the veil hid her stare.

"No, I heard Yavin say that they will not send a recovery ship. It's too dangerous. He is probably on some other planet already, but all kinds of cultists will be searching for him. He says that having multiple ships in the same vicinity will end up with us losing more teams."

Odessa's voice was hushed and taut. When she named him, she almost stumbled over her own words, her fear transforming her dispatch into a jumbled and croaky mess. Amalthea heard Kiani gasp. There was a short silence after.

"I guess it will be time then soon," Kiani mumbled. Both she and Odessa started looking towards Amalthea. The insinuation made her sick to her stomach. She promptly lowered her gaze down to her gloved hands. Had the others seen her staring? Were they still looking themselves?

Trying to sink deeper into the chair, her shoulders slumped forward in an unnatural curve, her veil almost touching her knees. Now, standing up and going anywhere would have made it obvious that she listened in. So she agonized in the awkward silence, trying to make herself invisible again, the feeling of uneasiness leaving behind an uncomfortable prickle on her skin.

Suddenly, loud chatter outside the door interrupted them. The metal of the double doors crashed into the sandstone walls next to it and in came a whole barrage of people back from their missions and other work, ready to storm into the canteen to fill their grumbling stomachs.

By now, Amalthea knew all of them. At Anantore Point there were less than fifty people employed and even less than that were allowed to enter the buildings on a permanent basis. The less people knew she existed, the better.

The loudest group of all were Brom, Qimir, and Kona. Qimir was today's good news. During a mission over the last couple of days, his ship suffered sudden engine failure while in hyperdrive, and while going back into realspace he got unlucky and landed in an asteroid field where he got cut off from the rest of the group. Just this morning he was able to find them again, his ship completely beaten up, but his mission completed.

Amalthea did not know what to think of him. He was unprofessional, goofy, carefree, and not the smartest. But he knew his way around ships and various planets better than more experienced explorers at Anantore Point and he had come here on personal recommendation by Senator Fasmum. Most importantly, he was her anchor point when the time came.

Qimir's job was being responsible for getting her safely to him so she could do her job. Perhaps the last person she would ever see. Still, he was the reason she had to wear the Cortosis ring. At least that is what Amalthea guessed. Until Qimir showed up a year ago she never had to wear one. But like her, he was Force-sensitive, although he never studied it. They tested him and he could barely even light a lamp. Master Xylter said that the Force was wasted on someone like him. But Qimir could still observe it.

And that was the problem. Although Amalthea could not see it, she exuded massive amounts of the Force and that was distracting for every Force-sensitive person who came close to her. Close in this case was relative. Depending on how sensitive someone was to the Force, they could feel her from hundreds or thousands of miles away, even if they were strangers.

She wondered what it looked like, but no one had ever bothered to tell her. And Amalthea did not dare to ask. Master Xylter had said that it was because more important guests would visit after the recent happenings, but it was obvious that Qimir could not concentrate on his job with her around in this state. Amalthea did not mind the Cortosis ring. Sure, it was heavy, but having it rest on her collarbones was strangely comforting sometimes.

However, not even the ring could make Qimir stop looking at her. She felt the weight of his stare bearing down on her without mercy. And she just didn't understand why. Most of the people at Anantore Point didn't even give her a single glance, never mind a second one. Meanwhile, it was like he could not rip his eyes away from her.

Sometimes, when she sensed him, she looked back and it was like he could stare straight through the veil into her eyes, making the hairs on her neck stand up. At least, he was good at concealing it in front of others. Amalthea was not ready to be lectured on being too noticeable.

So, like many days in the last year, she decided to eat her dinner in her room. Nobody looked at her when she got up and made her way to the door. Except Qimir. His gaze was glued to her. When she walked past him to exit, she could have sworn that their eyes met. Knuckles white and straining, she clutched the front of her robe in her hands and got out of Building C as fast as she could, stumbling over elevator entrances, stairs, and her own boots.

Could he see underneath her veil? That was impossible unless you were a Jedi and had enough control of the Force. And there were only five Jedi living at Anantore Point: Grandmaster Torinn, Master Xylter, Yavin, Ecla, and Amalthea. Shuddering, she tried to physically shake off the feeling, her dense robe rustling in the desert winds outside. The way from Building C to Building A was, as usual, completely empty. Out of all of the people living here, only four had access to Building A, Amalthea being one of them. Only Ecla was standing in front of the entrance ready for her night shift and nodded at her. "Meditation?"

She simply nodded back and made her way to her room. As her guard, Ecla was allowed to talk to her. When she first came to Anantore Point six years ago, Amalthea was really excited but soon understood. Ecla was here to do her job, not make friends. She would later quietly enter her room to put down dinner and then leave as quickly as she came. The same routine as most days. Only after closing the door behind her, she realized that her books still laid in the employee room.

Although Amalthea was bored a lot, she was grateful. The Conclave of Light had saved her life when she was a baby, housed, fed, and trained her. In exchange, she did what she was born to do and it was an honor. There might have been many rules, but they were all there to keep her safe from Rebels, Wildlings, and, in the worst case, the Sith.

Most people believed them to be extinct, but you could never be too sure. And suspicious events over the last years had proven the caution of the Jedi right. Soon it would be time for Amalthea to go. A nameless Sith had been slaughtering people. Jedi searched for him and ended up dead too. He was not a dark user with many followers, but he was amassing amounts of Force that made it clear that he was a danger. Not just to the Jedi, but to the Republic at large.

Just a month ago he had executed multiple Jedi and civilians on Khofar, then vanished without a trace. It was Amalthea's responsibility to stop him. A final fight. It was all Amalthea had been working towards. The climax of her entire life. Her purpose. Her dream? She had never asked herself that. She would rather not. The choice had been made for her, the Chosen One. Her immaculate conception would either end in immaculate victory or immaculate death. Before her thoughts could get any louder, Amalthea assumed her meditation pose, closed her eyes, and concentrated.

Amalthea did not know how much time had passed since she started meditating when she heard Ecla enter her room. She often lost herself in her concentration, not knowing when and where she was when she awakened, saturated with Force and strengthened with knowledge. Ecla did not put her dinner plate down or leave the room. When Amalthea turned towards her, Ecla did not even hold a plate.

"Master Xylter requires you in the main office in Building B."

Immediately she knew what this would be about. Actually, Amalthea had already expected to be called in soon. It was time. The feeling of finality grabbed her by the throat and squeezed. But there was no time to acclimatize. She put her gloves back on and followed Ecla outside, struggling and breathless.

Amalthea could have found the way to the main office herself, but it was night, and Anantore Point, being the only cluster of buildings in this desert and desolation, stood out. Not having others around made it safer, but the lights flickering could be seen far away. So as soon as the sun tinged the sky with hues of pink and orange, Amalthea was not allowed to walk outside alone. She moved gingerly behind Ecla, almost hiding behind the broad shoulders of the experienced Jedi warrior, becoming invisible in between her massive strides.

Often, Amalthea pictured Ecla before Anantore Point in her head. She knew nothing but her name. Nevertheless, she trusted her. And, while she could not tell anyone, she admired her. She knew that Ecla would always keep her safe. Amalthea had personally seen her finish off intruders before. Secretly, she wished Ecla would come with her on her mission. She knew she was sinning heavily with that wish. Personal affections were forbidden. Any outside help during her mission was forbidden. But no one would ever know what she thought. No one ever asked.

Master Xylter was not the only one waiting in the main office. Amalthea had a look at the others. Grandmaster Torinn. Yavin. Qimir. So it was as she expected. Master Xylter cleared his throat and she quickly got down on her knees and looked to the ground. "Greetings Master." Amalthea could hear Qimir swallow loudly. When she got up and glanced at him, he was glaring at her. Was he angry that she didn't greet him? But there was no time to contemplate.

"You know why you are here. Your mission is in three days. Say yes if you understand." Master Xylter had never been patient. "Yes, Master."

Amalthea pondered for a moment. It was now or never. "I don't know if I am ready for the mission yet. I still have not been knigh-,", she began.

Master Xylter reacted fast. "Insolent!" His voice was so loud that even Ecla flinched. Immediately, Amalthea fell to her hands and knees, her veil brushing the dirty ground. Not a second later, Master Xylter's boot secured it there. Desperate, Amalthea pleaded for forgiveness. She should not have acted so rashly and the humiliation of her audacity stung worse than a cut.

"How dare you question the decisions of the Conclave! I must have spoiled you too much. You have not been knighted because you're simply not worthy. I do not care if you do not think you are ready, you are ready when I say you are. You will do your duty and you will do it gladly," Master Xylter exclaimed.

"Stand up." Slowly, Amalthea got back on her feet, her posture demure, her arms hanging aimlessly at her sides. They were dirty and bruised, but it was too mortifying to openly try to brush them clean on her already ruined clothes. She decided to get this done quickly.

"I have been ill-mannered, Master. I deserve punishment."

When she was younger, Amalthea cried every time this happened. But she quickly learned it would just incense Master Xylter more. By now, she had more control over herself. Calmly, she lifted her dirty veil, her face as tranquil as an undisturbed lake at dusk. When her Master struck, not a single soul in the room dared to move.

But the corner of her sight showed something interesting. Qimir's hands, tightly curled into fists. Did he want to hit her as well? He was an explorer, after all, a job that sought people with a hang for violence.

"Thank you, Master. I will do better," Amalthea said softly. As she put her veil back down her unobstructed gaze fell back upon Qimir. His eyes seemed to bore themselves into her, his dark blown-out pupils reeling her in like the gravity of black holes. It was the first time their eyes met directly. The moment was gone as quickly as a shooting star and Qimir straightened his gaze towards the empty space in front of him, his jaw unclenching and his back loosening.

Yavin spoke up. "You will leave Anantore Point at dusk together with Qimir. He will take you to the designated place, deploy your pod, and wait for you to finish your mission. You will kill him. You will wait for further instruction," he stated slowly and clearly.

Yavin had been the commander of the explorers ever since Amalthea could remember and he was good at his job. He was deviant and did not want to be found. Commander Yavin did so anyways. He prided himself in his work, but he had gotten older as well and Amalthea could hear in his voice that he was glad that he could soon retire. It all came back to how successful Amalthea would be. Grandmaster Torinn laid a calming hand on Amalthea's veiled hair.

"Remember, Padawan. No weapons. Your Force will provide. Do not doubt the Conclave. As a last resort, please make use of this."

His old croaky voice was barely above a whisper, and still, everyone listened with reverence. Grandmaster Torinn had trained Jedi for decades, was highly respected, and had been specifically chosen to instruct Amalthea in the Force. He dropped a small green crystal in Amalthea's open hands.

"This is an Artusian crystal. It will strengthen your Force when you need it."

Next to him, Master Xylter grew impatient. "You will finish this mission. You will be successful. You will be allowed to talk to Qimir during the mission. Flight emergency situations only. Now go back to your room. Do not expect rations for the next twenty-four hours. Dismissed," he bellowed.

Amalthea clutched the crystal in her hand and felt the sharp edges press into her skin as she wordlessly left the room, bowing slightly. Of course, she didn't expect to get fed any time soon. Denial of food was Master Xylter's favorite punishment.

The three days were over faster than Amalthea anticipated. Ecla came into her room to wake her, but Amalthea had not been able to sleep and was already meditating, her new clothes equipped and her bag next to her. It was her first time to leave the building complex ever since arriving here over twenty years ago and the airfield fascinated her. There were thousands of little lights blinking like stars on the ground, dozens of ships awaiting to soar into the gradually lightening morning sky.

Amalthea felt electrified by what expected her, her stomach churning, her body slack and glossed over with cold sweat as she dragged herself behind Ecla towards a small exploration ship. Qimir was already waiting for her, greeting her shyly. Once again, his eyes wandered all over her body, fixing themselves on her face. Today was the second time he saw her without her veil.

She would not need it anymore from today on. There was nothing that could keep her safe now. So she lost her protective layers shielding her slender, bony figure and her dark curls. Qimir watched them billow in the artificial wind of the ship's engine, seemingly unsure of what to say. After some deliberation, he asked the worst question possible.

"Are you ready?" Ridiculous. Did it matter? Had Amalthea been anyone else, she would have probably laughed. Alas, she had not laughed in years. So she responded in the only way she knew and silently climbed into the ship that would deliver her into the hands of her destiny.

#qimir #the acolyte fanfiction #the acolyte #the stranger #qimir the stranger #qimir x oc #qimir smut #the acolyte fic #my writing #star wars the acolyte #star wars qimir #qimir fic #qimir the acolyte #almondemisewrites

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