frogwynwebber
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My view on Jango being Mand'alor is like... I don't think he wants to be head of state. Jaster certainly didn't. They led small political factions and wanted to influence culture, but nothing they do or say indicates having any interest in things like legislation, or taxes, or infrastructure.
I think that in their time, Mand'alor is not a position of governmental authority unless Mandalore is at war, which they aren't. The return to the Mand'alor being a totalitarian ruler is a Death Watch thing, while Jaster and Jango's take seems to lean much more heavily towards a position of cultural influence. The Resol'nare still has the Mand'alor included, but they don't do any true ruling. They are spiritually, culturally important to Mandalorian tradition, but they don't bother with actual government other than, perhaps, having to give or withhold approval of the functional head of state, which in this case is the Duke or Duchess (for which I have other headcanons but that's a different post). That part is more like... when the Pope has to crown a new monarch, rather than actually being the monarch.
The Supercommando Codex is also about changing up behaviors in a cultural group who can opt in or out of that life if they so choose, which is a lot less "Bill of Rights" and a lot more "95 Theses nailed to a church door." This muddles the Pope thing from above, but lbr when the True Mandos and Death Watch fight over who gets to be Mand'alor and decide the direction warrior culture takes, it's a bit like when there were three popes and they all excommunicated each other. That's Tor and Jaster.
Like. You know how a bunch of royal families in Europe are figureheads whose primary role is "draw in tourists and entertain the masses" at this point? It's like if you took that, mixed it with "I became Pope through trial by combat," and "I am the Commander in Chief of all our military forces (but most of them are self-managing, like the Journeyman Protectors)."
There's also a dash of King Arthur Has A Magic And Important Sword That Declares Him In Charge, there.
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Soap gets loose in the Temple, Dooku and Sifo have to go find him (with the help of Temple guard?)
Master Komari's first lesson with her Orange One??
The story behind the adorable domestic blorbos picture????
"Cin!," the door to Cin Drallig's office got thrown open and a face he hadn't seen in a while appeared. "I need you to lend me a Guard uniform! Now!," Sifo-Dyas informed him, storming towards him.
"Is this a vision thing again?" Cin took a step back from the Seer. "Because Yan said I shouldn't encourage those."
Sifo-Dyas actually managed to look indignant at that comment. "It is not a vision thing, I'll have you know. Not that it's any of Doo's business anyways."
Well then.
"So what is this about?," Cin looked at the older Jedi, quipping his brows, "I would like to have an actual reason for letting you dress up as one of my guys, Sifo."
"...Do you have to?"
"The way you ask that makes the answer a definite yes." Crossing his arms, Cin tilted his head. "So, out with it."
Sifo-Dyas looked conflicted with a good minute. Then, very faintly from down the corridor, a crash could be heard. Followed by some sort of claxon starting to blare. The way the Seer immediately turned and paled at that, immediately told Cin there was something going on here.
"Sifo," he asked, "What was that?"
"Uhh," the Seer's gaze was still fixed to the open door.
Patience. Patience was a virtue. "Lemme rephrase the question: Was that the reason why you are asking for a Guard uniform?"
"Uhhhhhh..."
Well, that answered that. "Why was that the reason you need a Guard uniform?"
"Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...!"
"Out with it, Dyas, or I'll toss you out." Not that he'd actually be able do that, Sifo-Dyas was a slippery as an eel when he wanted to be, but the threat was as good as a gesture as anything.
Luckily, the Seer cracked. Folding his hands in front of his face, he looked at Cin imploringly. "Please don't get mad," he said - and that was probably the worst way he could have started this negotiation, "But... remember that, uh, exotic animal in Yan's care that we should, technically, have relocated to another planet about a fortnight ago?"
Migraines. Migraines these idiots were causing him. Sorrows and migraines. Cin was going to go grey prematurely. "You mean the Serennian Force dragon??"
Sifo-Dyas made a pathetic little noise.
"That thing is barely fitting through the corridors anymore!!," Cin threw his arms out, "How-?!?"
Another crash, this time closer. Maybe there were some actual shouts now, too.
Sifo-Dyas in the meantime had returned to staring fixedly towards the direction of the clamor. A sudden calm seemed to have come over the man. "Do you think," his voice was all quiet and soft now, "It's already too late to discreetly get her back down to the lower levels without anyone noticing?" Then, he turned, looking at Cin like he was hoping for him to actually argue against that.
Cin wasn't going to.
Actually, Cin wasn't going to do anything anymore. Fuck this. He was gonna quit.
"Out." He said, pointing towards the door. "Out and get that Force-damned creature under control! Now."
"Soap isn't a crea-"
"I DON'T WANT TO KNOW ITS NAME! REMOVE IT FROM THE FUCKING TEMPLE ON THE FUCKING DENSELY POPULATED CITY PLANET!"
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Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Merlin (TV)
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon
Characters: Merlin (Merlin), Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Gwen (Merlin), Camelot Guards (Merlin), Camelot Citizens (Merlin)
Additional Tags: Attempt at Humor, Secrets, Gossip, Getting Together, Idiots in Love, Canon
Summary:
*Secrets* are a castle's currency.
Or, Merlin joins the Camelot sewing circle.
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I'm pretty sure this one actually belonged to my brother. Mine now I guess
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hi I'm from your pseudo-medieval fantasy city. yeah. you forgot to put farms around us. we have very impressive walls and stuff but everyone here is starving. the hero showed up here as part of his quest and we killed and ate him
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“Dying is typically a last resort, not first.”
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Last Line Challenge
@frostbitebakery tagged me for the Last Line Challenge, which comes from my Crechemaster Obi-Wan wip for @codywanweek & for context, this is an AU where a slightly-different Jedi Order works differently with the clones during the war, including in response to the attack on Kamino--
The Light Order never explained why they’d withdrawn, nor how they’d reorganized themselves in their "Year of Reflection," though it was apparent they had.
Master Farmers weren’t sent out on diplomatic missions before, even when the root issue was some kind of drought, and Senior Professors hadn’t been the people appearing in holonet interviews to answer questions about various Force holidays.
Nobody’d fully understood, before, that while the Jedi were a religious order who worshipped a very real supernatural force, they were also a horizontally and vertically integrated organization whose members comprised thousands of races, and who were self-sufficient in all the same specialities any polity would be required to be– and then some. They hadn't really needed the galaxy-- but the galaxy had learned that they surely needed the Jedi.
I'm not sure I'll keep this bit in, but in early drafts I always end up writing chunks of worldbuilding exposition so I can remind myself of the whys & wherefores-- but for now, I especially like the last two sentences.
Thanks for asking, Frost!
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For the WIP ask meme, I would *love* to know more about the America's Test Kitchen Codywan 👀
The ATK AU is a modern AU where Cody and Obi-Wan are hosts and cooks on a cooking show like America's Test Kitchen-- lots of behind the scenes food science, research, production, etc., and the prior season involved a big disruption when former publisher Sheev Palpatine left with Cody's former segment co-host, Padme Amidala, and Obi-Wan's former segment co-host, Anakin Skywalker, to go start a competing enterprise.
The test kitchen holds a reader poll and everyone wants to see Obi-Wan & Cody co-host and the different segments alternated every other episode (IDK, more technical/scientific food versus more home quick-cooking stuff, I'll figure that out). It's a relief to everyone because they did not want to go interviewing new people and a lot of the junior test kitchen staff are not ready for primetime.
It's a huge break for Cody, because Obi-Wan was a big deal in the cooking show world before he joined the show and he always makes sure to promote his co-stars, etc., and Cody & Padme's segment was always shorter & smaller than Obi-Wan & Anakin's, so this is a big step up in the world, plus Obi-Wan's a technically excellent chef and Cody's going to learn a lot from working with him.
Except-- Obi-Wan doesn't want to co-host with Cody. When Cody first started and had a lot of internalized machismo, he was vocal to a small group of people about not wanting to work with Obi-Wan, who was known to be out & gay, and Obi-Wan heard about it.
It's been ten years since then, and Cody has admitted his own queerness to himself, but he's never come out. Obi-Wan has always been professional to Cody since Cody never said anything mean to his face, but Sheev's HR pretty much ordered Obi-Wan to stay away from Cody because if he "provoked" their new rising star, no one was going to protect him about it.
Obi-Wan knows that something was probably wrong about that at the time and that it all has to do with Sheev stealing half the cast and crew now, but the fact stands-- he'd not going to work with a homophobe, so he tells Mace that he can give Cody the prime slot with the person who got the most votes after the two of them, and he'll take the smaller segment and work with someone else younger.
Cody finds all this out in the meeting with Mace & Obi-Wan when Mace is trying to congratulate them on winning the contest and Obi-Wan is like, "Nope, won't work with a homophobe, of course if you won't let me host ____ with (young person) then I understand that I'm fired," and walks out.
Mace is like "what?" and Cody's like "what? oh fuck. but what?" and they get the initial misunderstanding straightened out but then Cody apologizes and explains himself and then spends weeks unpacking every formally polite interaction he's ever had with Obi-Wan-- all while Mace has to figure out who else got hate-crimed by the old HR, etc., and to figure out why Obi-Wan didn't just quit back then if he thought other people in the leadership group were in on it too. (I am going to shamelessly lean in to some woobi-wan for once.)
And then it's them having to plan the back half of the season and film all ten episodes with professionalism going to friendliness going to something more, with food and recipes and banter and fending off Sheev when his new enterprise tanks, etc.
It's pretty self-indulgent.
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we don’t make promises
we don’t take vows
we have knowledge
and we know that we have each other
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When you say you're anti-CAM what does that mean? Like what does CAM mean in that context? I genuinely haven't seen that acronym before and I'm assuming you aren't anti-camming as in like the form of sex work
Complimentary and Alternative Medicine.
I am capable of turning off my inner annoying atheist, I am incapable of turning off my inner annoying quackwatcher.
I have had real life fights with people I genuinely love about this and I do not regret it. I will absolutely not regret shitting all over someone's $500 herbalist certification.
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Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Jango Fett/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Characters: Jango Fett, Myles the Mandalorian (Star Wars), Obi-Wan Kenobi
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Battle of Korda Six Happened Differently (Star Wars), Battle of Galidraan Didn’t Happen (Star Wars), Planet Mandalore (Star Wars), Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting
Series: Part 2 of soulmate cravings
Summary:
In a galaxy where you crave whatever your soulmate eats, Jango has never received a single soulmate craving.
Until his soulmate starts drinking shig. Every. Single. Day.
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To Whom It May Concern
Tim couldn’t stay.
No matter what Bruce had said when he caught Tim in the act of laying the paper trail to establish his Fake Uncle, no matter how long Dick had sobbed into the phone at him during an inordinately expensive long distance (read: off planet) phone call, no matter how much Alfred had been fussing over him and insisting it was no trouble at all to care for him since Tim’s scheme had been revealed and promptly foiled, it just didn’t change the fact that Tim couldn’t stay. Truthfully, the Wayne family’s apparent sudden burst of affection for him actually made this whole thing worse because somewhere along the way, without even trying, Tim had failed to keep things wholly professional between them and somehow tricked them into thinking he belonged in their family!
He couldn’t let it stand. For the sake of Jason’s memory, for the sake of preserving the sanctity of the true Wayne family, he had to stop this… this absurdity of pretending that Tim belonged with them from continuing! Tim had to run. Tim had to vanish. It was the only way to make things right again. Sure, the thought of never seeing any of them again, the thought of being done with Bruce and Alfred and Dick and Barbara and everyone in his life he currently held dear once and for all made it feel as though his heart was being ripped out of his chest only to be shoved back down his throat to stop the flow of air into his body—but it didn’t matter. He didn’t matter, not nearly as much as they did. This would be for their own good.
Tim was leaving, and it turned out to be easier than he thought it would be in the end. Not emotionally easier, but logistically easier. Bruce had been extra attentive lately, so he thought he’d have to fake an injury and get ‘benched’ so that they would lower their guard long enough for him to slip away. But by some divine stroke of luck, a new player had waltzed onto Gotham’s criminal scene not too long after Tim’s Fake Uncle plan fell through and started making threats against Batman and Robin. They had apparently freaked B out enough to prompt him to send Tim off to Titan’s Tower to ‘focus on his team for awhile’. Tim had accepted the command with the requisite amount of complaint, planted some fake texts to make it look like he’d actually communicated to his Team that he would be there, shoved everything from his guest room in the Manor that he couldn’t bear to part with into a duffel bag underneath a spare uniform, gave Bruce what only he knew was a more emotionally charged nod goodbye than usual, and then poof. Tim Drake was zapped out of the Batcave for the last time ever.
He let himself have one night in the Tower. Partly to catch a few hours of sleep in a familiar and secure environment, but mostly so he could clean up his room for its next occupant, sweep his belongings and his person for any extra trackers, and repack his bag more efficiently. He also took the time to grab a spare backpack and fill it up with emergency rations. While he was taking plenty of cash, he didn’t want to risk having to go into stores with security cameras for a while, at least until he’d cleared a suitable distance from San Francisco proper as well as implemented the first of his many planned disguises. He didn’t think a bottle of cheap hair dye and some colored contacts would be enough to fool Oracle indefinitely, but if he was appropriately cautious it might keep her from getting a confirmation of his location long enough for the Bats to either get bored looking for him or to actually realize they were better off without him around.
When the early rays of dawn started to bathe the sides of Titan’s Tower in ember colored light, he was off. He left behind seven trackers pulled from his clothes and bag and one more from behind his ear; he’d kept the one he noticed in his favorite pair of sneakers because it was a type that wouldn’t start transmitting data until the Bats actively started tracking it and he was hoping to find someone who wore his size at the bus station he could pay to wear them so he could throw them off for even longer. If all else failed, he would just toss them in an out of the way trash can. He had also left a letter of resignation for Batman that he’d whipped up based off of an online template, signed and sealed and awaiting discovery atop the pillow in his nearly empty dorm room (he had tried for something more personal, a longer note of explanation for Bruce about why he couldn’t stay despite being asked, but—the words just wouldn’t come, and he’d been running out of time). His bag was heavy, courtesy of all of the extra supplies he’d grabbed in anticipation of having to evade not only Batman’s team but the rest of the Justice League. His heart was heavy, courtesy of emotional baggage that he wished was as easy to unpack as his actual bags would be when he finally found somewhere to settle.
He boarded the first bus he saw after he’d gone a few blocks and took a seat towards the back, where he leaned against the window and stared back at the iconic giant T that he used to belong in, however briefly, until it disappeared from sight. And just like that, Tim Drake’s life as Robin was over.
—
To Whom It May Concern:
This letter is to formally notify you that I’m resigning as Robin in Gotham City, effective immediately.
Thank you so much for the opportunity to work with you all for the past three years. I’ve enjoyed getting to know the team and appreciated the opportunity to learn about vigilantism and hone my detective skills. I’m excited to take these skills with me as I pursue the next step of my career.
During the past two weeks, I have done everything possible to wrap up any ongoing cases and leave no unfinished business. The Robin suit as well as my spare have been cleaned and placed in the armory of Titan’s Tower along with any gear I have been issued.
I wish Batman and team the best, but am afraid I will be out of contact for the foreseeable future.
Sincerely,
T. J. Drake
—
Red Hood stalked into Titan’s Tower with all the grace of a wildcat closing in on its prey, his vicious smirk hidden by his helmet, his unauthorized entrance hidden by virtue of the heroes’ own stupidity in failing to remove his codes from the database. Seriously—he’d thought gaining entry into their so-called fortress would be the hardest part of this little trip, and had only tried his access codes for the sake of checking the most stupidly obvious Plan A off his list! For them to work, to realize that there was nothing truly separating the precious sidekicks from the wrath of a vengeance minded crime lord, well… it sure made the message he was about to send feel all the more poignant.
He had come equipped to subdue an entire horde of Teeny Titans without hurting them (much), but to his surprise, the tower was empty of kid sidekicks despite Robin having been sent to work with his team yesterday afternoon, a fact Jason had gleaned last night from listening to the mind numbing chatter of Nightwing being bored on a stakeout and wanting to chat with anyone over the comms Jason had hacked into. Which he’d done in order to better plan his aggressive takeover of Crime Alley, not because he missed hearing his family’s voices. Nope.
(Since coming back to Gotham, it had been more difficult than he anticipated to stick to the plan when some part of his mind still stubbornly clung to those foolish, childhood dreams of belonging and family and a father who gave a shit and things like that, and kept popping up with annoying questions like ‘what if he revealed his identity to Dick or Alfred or someone just to see if maybe Talia had been right and they’d want him back after all. Clearly, the existence of a new Robin meant that they’d never really given a damn about him, so he was going to go through with this thing, just watch him.)
Truly this had to be fate, because the path to Robin was practically unfolding before him with no barriers. All that was left to do was find where in this gigantic clubhouse the itty little birdie was nesting. Jason tried the common room first. Then the kitchen. Then the rec room. And then the training floor. And the med bay. And then the armory, where he found Robin’s suit, but no actual Robin. He supposed the next place to check would be Robin’s bedroom, because even though it was well past eleven, Drake was a teenager and could conceivably be sleeping in, especially since there was no Alfred around to rouse him at a reasonable hour. Luckily, the doors on the floor with sleeping quarters were all clearly marked with either the name or symbol of the person it belonged to, so it was easy enough to find the one with that all too familiar stylized ‘R’. Jason paused to take a steadying breath before gritting his teeth and deciding to really make an entrance by kicking down the door.
…To an empty bedroom. Like, not just devoid of Tim Drake, but also devoid of books, trinkets, photos, decoration, clothes, dishes, mess, et cetera, et cetera. It looked as clean and sterile as a hotel room, and if Jason hadn’t literally just seen Robin’s insignia on the door he would think he’d entered an unassigned room by mistake. He frowned and yanked off his helmet, as if looking with his own two eyes would suddenly change the scene, but no. Nothing. He strode into the room and yanked open the closet—empty. He walked over to the desk and yanked open the top drawer—empty. He yanked open the bottom drawer, and mostly empty except for—wait, was that a pile of deactivated Bat trackers? Fucking bizarre. When he stood up, he glanced around again, and this time something on the bed caught his eye. It had been easy to miss against the white pillowcase, but there was an envelope tucked up against the pillow. With a scowl, he stalked over and grabbed it.
When Jason flipped it over, he noted that it was addressed to Batman, but decided that since he was a crime lord now he didn’t have to care about something as trivial as opening someone else’s mail. He didn't want to take off his gloves and risk leaving prints on anything, so he pulled out a dagger and used it to slice open the envelope. As he flipped it over to dump its contents on the desk, he had the fleeting thought that he probably should have put back on his mask in case this had been some villain’s ploy to poison Batman, but luckily all that fell out was a single sheet of printer paper folded into thirds.
This he was careful not to damage as he unfolded it. It wasn’t a long note, just a few small paragraphs, so it was quick enough to read: To whom it may concern. This letter is to formally notify you that I’m resigning as Robin in Gotham City, effective immediately…
Jason dropped the letter and took a step back, staring at the innocuous piece of paper with wide eyes and racing thoughts. Robin had—Drake wasn’t—Timothy—the kid, he was quitting? Leaving? Gone?
It could be a trap. It probably was a trap. Except Robin shouldn’t have had any way of knowing Red Hood would be able to track him all the way to Titan’s Tower so why would he have set a trap for him in the first place? A trap for someone else, then? If it was, it was really, really stupid of him because the kid had signed his resignation letter from Robin with his actual name, and surely he wouldn’t have made it this far if he were that careless with his identity. So, it was either a very bad trap, or not a trap at all. And if it was not a trap at all, then…
Then Robin had… resigned. Which, ok, Jason’s stated goal coming into this thing was to get Tim Drake to stop being Robin. So he should be happy about this, right? Except he’d not gotten to toss the kid around and work out his aggression at all so there was no satisfaction in it. Also, the timing was fucking obnoxious. Go figure that the very day he decides to do something about his replacement, the kid decides to peace out of the Gotham vigilante scene and… and go…
… Somewhere. Jason had no idea where Tim Drake would go if he were no longer Robin. Given how he’d waited until he was alone and then left the note to be found on the other side of the country, Jason had a sneaking suspicion that returning to Gotham was currently off the table. The letter had said he would be ‘out of contact’ for the foreseeable future; Jason could read between the lines enough to figure out that meant he was running away.
—Which, fuck. Another Robin was running away from Batman because of… well, Jason didn’t know what this kid’s issue with B was, but there were plenty of potential flaws in the man to choose from so Jason was going to play it safe and assume it was something Bruce did. Clearly, the man could never learn. And now, this poor dumb Robin was going to pay the price! Jason was more than familiar with the number of horrors that awaited kids who ended up on their own. He could starve; he could freeze to death; he could catch some disease like the flu, or get cut on a rusty nail and get tetanus, and then die from it because he couldn’t access medical treatment. He could get mugged, or harassed by cops, or snatched up by traffickers, or—
And fine; Jason himself had meant to hurt him. But that had been for ideological purposes, to prove a point about putting children in danger and not taking good enough care of them and stuff. It wasn’t like he was going to hurt him that badly, just bad enough to freak out Bruce a bit. But Jason was also the Red Hood, and the Red Hood’s mission was to do what was necessary to stop awful shit from happening to vulnerable kids. And this stupid, stupid letter was apparently enough to abruptly transfer Timothy Drake into that category in his head.
Everything Jason had heard about the kid said he was smart, and the timing of his disappearance pointed to some thoughtful planning on his part. Jason could imagine that the little shit had some sort of plan in place to evade Batman’s attempts to locate him, and he probably could manage to run without getting caught by Bruce and the Gotham team for a while. Heck, the kid probably had strategies to get away from most if not all of the Justice League members, since B was sure to call in favors once he got frantic enough about the little bird. But one thing the kid likely did not plan for was being pursued by him. Ex-Robin, currently a crime lord, League of Assassins connections, and a bone to pick with Timothy specifically? (He ran away from home and left a fucking resignation letter about it? Does he not realize what that would do to Dick, to Alfred, to Bruce—)
After stuffing the letter into his pocket, Jason put back on his helmet and stalked out of Titans Tower as silently as he’d arrived, this time with a new yet equally furious purpose sharpening his steps. Sucked to be Timothy Drake, he thought, because the Red Hood got his message and he was officially concerned.
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