#IT'S EXACTLY WHAT AN ASTEROID COVER SHOULD BE!
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The Mandalorian and The Corellian
Chapter One: The Deal
pairing: din djarin x corellian!reader
summary: needing repairs for his new N-1 ship, Din emergency lands on Tatooine. by sheer luck and coincidence does he stumble upon you, a master mechanic from Corellia. he accepts a proposition from you in exchange for fixing up his starfighter, and just like that—it begins.
warnings: star wars stuff, takes place after BOBF so spoilers for that?? sorta??, all in all just a cute little first chapter. all of the feelings to come eventually.
words: 1.9k
series masterlist | my din playlist
Din wasn’t happy. His speed rocket of a starfighter taking an unexpected hit from an asteroid forcing him to land on one of his least favorite planets—Tatooine. Though he’d more than earned his respect in the outlaw desert-world of a planet, it still was never a smooth trip.
“What do you say we pay our friends a visit?” Mando landed the ship near Mos Espa, sighing as he thought about the long and hard fight he helped fight in order for Boba Fett to remain unchallenged. “Remember last time we were here?”
The child cooed as his father-figure raised the roof off their pods, lifting him from his seat and holding him in one arm as he hopped down from the jet. He slowly marched into town, studying the peacefulness carefully as he made his way to the palace.
“Mando,” Fennec greeted as she hung outside of the palace, a smirk on her face as she walked up to the Mandalorian. She lowered her eyes to the kid and smiled at it, watching its big eyes as they blinked at her. “Just visiting?”
“No,” He began following her as she walked to the Cantina, placing Grogu into his satchel and hiding him behind his cape. “My N-1 needs some work. I don’t imagine you know anyone that knows how to work on a Galactic-era starfighter?”
“It must be your lucky day, Mando.” She turned around while they stood at the bar, pointing over at you sitting in a booth all by yourself, tossing back your drinks with ease. “Y/N is new to town, but she’s Corellian, so anything she touches turns to gold.”
“Is she…can I trust her with the kid—with Grogu?” He asked, slightly hating the way he hadn’t been able to hide his emotions since the kid came into his life. Fennec nodded and gave him a sincere look, making him take a deep breath. “Well, if you’ll excuse me.”
“Should I let Fett know you’re in town?” She called out as he strutted away.
“I’ll make my way over,” He replied as he reached your table. You eyed him carefully as he stepped over, standing tall by your table. “I’m told you know how to work on a N-1.”
“I’ve never seen an N-1.” You replied, lowering your drink from your lips and giving him a once over. “Although, I’ve also never seen a Mandalorian.”
“There’s a first time for everything.” He quipped back, taking a seat in front of you. “Listen, I’m prepared to pay…if you can give it a shot.”
“Alright, I’ll take a look…but,” You sat forward, resting your elbows on the table and crossing your arms. “I need an escort out of the Outer Belt.”
“Where exactly?” He asked begrudgingly.
“Corellia.” You gestured at yourself and answered dryly, as though it was obvious. Din rolled his eyes inside his helmet and sighed.
“That’s a long trip. My ship…it’s too small.”
“I have my own ship, Mandalorian. I just need an extra set of eyes…or two.” Din reached to cover up Grogu, but when he reached for him, he wasn’t there. He panicked and looked around, only to see Grogu climbing onto your lap. “Well, hello there. Is this your…food…pet?”
“He’s…listen, I’ll escort you on your trip. Just—go and look at the ship.” You chuckled at his fluster and handed the kid back over, standing up.
“Lead the way.”
•••
“Dank ferrik…this can’t be the original model,” You complimented as you ghosted your fingers across the perfect chrome exterior.
“No, it was a rebuild by myself and a friend.” He stood still as he watched you lean into the wounded turbine, getting a better look. Your brows laced together as you reached in, pulling out debris and throwing it into the desert behind you.
“Peli?” You asked over the sound of asteroid rocks being ripped out.
“Uh, yeah. Do you know her?” He stepped forward, joining you by the wounded turbine to watch what you were doing more carefully.
“I do. She’s a friend.” You sighed as you extracted the final bit of shrapnel from the turbine, spinning it and watching it move with ease. “Why didn’t you go to her?”
“It always ends up costing me,” He tried his hand at a joke but you only looked up at him with a squinted expression, your hand covering your eyes from the brightness of the suns. “And mostly because she’d blast me if I brought it back in this state.”
“Yeah, she’s a feisty one. Well, Mando—can I call you Mando?” You asked, watching his helmet tip down in a subtle nod. “Mando, I won’t blast you or charge you for this. Should be a relatively easy fix. I only ask that you keep your end of the deal once I get this baby back up in the air.”
“You have my word.” He nodded again and held his gloved hand out for you to shake, you accepting it with an amused smirk.
“So who’s the kid…your kid?” You asked, walking back into the town and over to your little hut/shop to grab tools. Mando followed closely behind, the kid cooing to be let free from his secure hold.
“Not…not biologically. But yes, he is a foundling trusted in my care.” You chuckled at his attempt at sounding stern, hearing his words laced thick with concern for the child.
“I was going to ask how you managed to…procreate given,” You turned back and looked him up and down with a grin. He looked good, granted you didn’t even know if he was human. “Everything.”
“There are ways.” He defended quickly, earning another surprised laugh from you. “Not—not that I’ve…I just know that it is possible. For Mandalorians.”
“What’s the fun if you can’t even see your lovers eyes as they make love to you?” You pondered romantically, clutching your heart as you spun around and walked backwards through the desert-town. You couldn’t see a thing past his helmet, but somehow you could almost feel his lip twitch in response, your eyes dropping to watch as his fingers clenched into a fist before releasing. “Though, I suppose it may add to the whole experience.”
“Will it be this way the entire trip to Corellia? If so, we may need to renegotiate our terms.” He was so serious, and you were so…not. It was funny to make him flustered, but you truly did need to return home.
It had been far too long since you’d been back. The moment your cousin, Han Solo, left the planet, you decided that you wanted to, too. You were only 14 when you stowed away in his ship, waiting until he was deep into space before making your appearance, scaring both him and his Wookie friend. Somehow, he’d agreed to let you stick around, and you’ve been floating around the Outer-Rim ever since. Now, ten years later, you felt a calling to go back to your home planet and reconnect—if there was anyone still left to reconnect with.
“No, I’ll stop.” You turned back around as you approached your door, it’s metal sliding open as you stepped up to the identifier. The Mandalorian stood still outside of your home as you entered, causing you to turn back. “Would you like to come in?”
“No, I’m fine.” You raised your hands in apology and continued inside, grabbing your toolkit and a few parts you noticed needed replacements. Throwing the heavy bag over your shoulder and grabbing your toolbox, you headed back out, the door locking behind you. Din felt guilty watching someone of your size have to carry so much, and reached out his hand for the bag. “I can help,”
“Believe it or not, I’ve got it.” You shot him a smirk over your shoulder and continued walking. Din took in a sharp and subtle breath as he watched you carry on so independently. He’d never met a woman so…stubborn. “Have you always been so stoic?”
“Have you always been so nosy?” He countered, watching as you grinned in shock at him, nodding in approval.
“Fair.” You chuckled and shrugged the bag off your shoulder as you reached the ship. You set your toolbox down by the turbine and watched as The Mandalorian stood still, watching you. “Are you…going to stay here and watch me the entire time?”
“I figured.” He responded, mimicking your dry tone. You chuckled again and shook your head—you were certainly in for an interesting time on the way to Corellia.
“Well, make yourself comfortable.” You gestured at the dry sand around the ship, Mando remaining still. “Or…not.”
“Is there any discreet lodging in the town?” He asked after a moment.
“Didn’t I see you with Fennec? I’m sure if you’re good with her, you can stay anywhere.” You spoke over the sounded of clunking.
“If I show face too much around, somebody will ask for my help. I don’t have much desire to help anymore than I need to.” You chuckled at his words, imagining the stories the Mandalorian must be able to tell, though you couldn’t imagine him sharing any.
“You can stay at my place. As long as the kid doesn’t try to kill me in my sleep.” You joked and walked around the turbine to watch as the Mandalorian sat in the sand with the child, watching his green friend as he stumbled around. “So what’s a ‘foundling’?”
“As a Mandalorian, I’m sworn in creed to care for him. But…he means more than that.” He replied, watching as the kid walked back to him and onto his lap.
“He seems to love you.” You spoke softly, dropping your usual sarcastic and flippant tone. Mando’s helmet tilted as he looked up at you wiping the grease off your hands. “Uh, it should be fixed.”
“That fast?” He stood up with Grogu cradled in his arm, walking over to inspect the turbine. “This looks brand new.”
“It’s in my blood.” You shrugged and gestured to the cockpit. “Start her up.”
“Do you mind?” He offered you the kid and you hesitantly accepted him, holding him on your hip as Din climbed into the cockpit and turned on the engine, it running flawlessly. He shook his helmet and grinned behind it, impressed and, if he was being honest with himself, a bit attracted to your skill. He shut it off and climbed out, nodding and accepting the child back. “Are you sure I can’t pay you?”
“No, no. Just remember the deal. We leave first thing in the morning.” You wagged your finger at him and watched him tip his helmet in agreement. “Well, let’s get you two settled at my place.”
“Let me drop the ship off with Peli…now that she can’t scold me for wrecking it.” You could’ve sworn he laughed, but it must not have came out through his modulator. Either way, you chuckled and nodded. Watching as him and the kid took off towards the hangars.
At least you now had time to tidy up your hole in the wall, hating yourself as you jogged back into town for wanting to impress a man of all things. If Han taught you anything, it was to never try to impress a man—they’re far too undeserving and stupid to notice. Though, something in your gut told you that perhaps this man—this Mandalorian—was different. Perhaps he was neither undeserving or stupid, and perhaps that was the scariest thing about him.
#din djarin#din and grogu#din djarin x reader#din djarin x you#din djarin fluff#din djarin smut#the mandalorian#mando#mando x reader#pedro pascal fic#pedro pascal
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Hey it's me again and I'm just wanting to ask a few last questions.
Can a Gas Giant be white while not being made of helium? I have this one GG I'm my k type system that's white but it's basically the Jupiter of the system in terms of distance.
Could two minor moons of 512 and 493 km respectively be enough to affect tides on a world that's about 10'000 km across and a bit over a quarter the mass of Earth?
How far can a body have a ring system?
Photo for the 2nd question for reference. I actually wonder if both moons would hypothetically be viewable in the sky and if this planet's system is stable. Anyways thanks if you reply! You been a big help.
1: sure. water vapor clouds are white. a gas giant in the habitable zone would be white due to the water vapor clouds, with blue skies. Also, a jovian gas giant which somehow had pure ammonia ice clouds with no other contaminants to make it brown could be white or gray. But I'm not sure what would cause that to happen. But if you just want it to be white then that's a possible explanation. Or maybe there's some kind of white smoky haze covering everything. Planets are weird and hobby worldbuilding doesn't have to get everything exactly right, it's just nice to be able to provide a basic explanation if it comes up, even if it won't hold up to further inspection.
2: as i understand it, tidal forces are related to angular size and density. so if the moon and the sun were the same density as eachother, their tidal effect on the earth would be the same (since their angular sizes are the same.) The Sun is about half the density of the moon, so half the tidal effect. So if the satellites are comparable in apparent size to the Earth's moon, they will have a comparable tidal effect. (Note that for things like tidal heating, the period and eccentricity will matter quite a lot as well)
Calculate angular size using the Cosine Approximation:
angular diameter in radians = distance to object / diameter of object.
(remember you'll probably want to convert from radians to degrees or arcminutes.)
3: the roche limit is the outermost limit of a planetary ring system. beyond that distance, debris will accrete into one or more satellites. To maximize this, maximize the ratio of the densities--a dense superjovian with icy fluff rings will have a proportionally much larger ring system than a saturnian planet with rocky/iron rings, for example. The innermost limit is typically the exosphere of the planet's atmosphere.
4: the moons look like they ought to be stable to me. Only way to test is to put it into something like Universe Sandbox^2 with the most stable integrator settings (actually nowadays i think the default integrator settings will work?) and run time forwards a bunch.
It goes without saying that asteroid moons of that size would be visible in the sky--probably much brighter than the planets appear in Earth's skies. But the question of whether they're visible as 'disks' (rather than point sources) comes down to their apparent size. It is technically possible to see the crescent shape of Venus, when it is close enough that its angular size is 0.018 degrees. But I haven't had such luck with that. The Moon is about 0.5 degrees in apparent diameter as seen from the Earth. Objects about 0.1 degrees in size should be apparent as circular (or blobby if they're irregular asteroids) objects in the sky. Smaller than that and it gets harder and harder to distinguish from a dot.
I would also consider getting Space Engine and making a mod config file for it to render your system. I've done that for non-Kerbal worldbuilding projects in the past and even if you dont go to the trouble of making custom maps for the objects, it's still a good way to visualize everything, and how big things should be. Celestia can also do this.
(Of course Kerbal Space Program is the best way to make a fictional solar system because, unlike planetarium software, your worldbuilding decisions become manifest as game design, and you can naturally get an idea of not just what the system should look like, but how it would work if a space program had to fly through it. It's absolutely the best way to make your solar system scale worldbuilding projects seem real. It is however a frustrating hobby to get into.)
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Super Breakout (Arcade)
Developed/Published by: Atari
Released: 8/1978
Completed: 27/07/2023
Completion: Played all the modes. Still didn’t clear a screen.
Version Played: Atari 50 (Nintendo Switch)
Trophies / Achievements: n/a
One of the most fascinating things in history is how often something was invented, some idea was realised, and… someone else had come up with the same idea at the same time. Known as multiple discovery, simultaneous invention, even (appealingly) “railroad time”--Alan Moore has hypothesised that there exists a plane called “ideaspace” where we visit to bring back ideas, and sometimes people come home with the same thing in their bag.
It’s what makes me think that had Tomohiro Nishikado not designed Space Invaders in 1978, someone else would have. Not exactly the same game, no, but something essentially similar. The history of video games is littered with rip-offs, but it’s also interestingly littered with almosts and not-quites, like people took a trip to idea space, tried to bring home the excalibur of ideas but only came home with a broken off bit of the hilt.
We’ve seen it already. Avalanche… isn’t Space Invaders. Air-Sea Battle, an Atari 2600 launch title features a few modes that… aren’t Space Invaders. But they’re not a world away.
I suppose that’s what makes Super Breakout so interesting. Nishikado was so obsessed with the original that in many ways Space Invaders was his “take” on Breakout, and when Ed Rotberg tasked with making a sequel to Breakout he would, mere months after Space Invaders was released in Japan, release a version of Breakout where in one mode, Progressive Breakout, the bricks slowly move down the screen towards the paddle.
(Heck, it’s starting to sound like Tetris, actually.)
Now, I can’t say for sure that Ed Rotberg hadn’t seen Space Invaders; but dates don’t line up with enough time for him to have seen it (very early) and to incorporate it into Super Breakout; it’s more likely to have been inspired by Avalanche if anything–tearing off the same bit of idea space.
It’s really with Super Breakout that you can see the genius leap that Tomohiro Nishikado made. He didn’t need the intermediate step of “bricks moving down the screen” or “falling rocks” he went straight to enemies marching forward, shooting lasers.
By comparison, Super Breakout feels every bit the incremental improvement, if you can call it that; of the three modes here only Progressive Breakout has the spark of anything, with the other two extremely nothingy ideas. Cavity is just Breakout, but there are two extra balls held captive in the brick formation, and when you release them you can try and keep them alive. Doubles is… well, you’ve got a second paddle further up the screen which matches your first paddle’s horizontal movement, and there are two balls straight away.
That’s it. Really both are things that would barely be interesting as temporary power-ups in a later clone, and the things you might expect (different block patterns, etc.) are nowhere to be seen–not that it particularly matters, the game is as brutal as ever with it’s tiny paddle (although I was able to get blocks to bounce off the top row in Progressive Breakout, so that’s something. I mean my score has reached the hundreds, now!)
Will I ever play it again? I’m less interested in playing this than I am the original, honestly.
Final Thought: The weirdest thing about Super Breakout was chosen for Kid Stuff Record’s “The Story of Atari” book and tape/7-inch sets, which recounted the stories of Atari games such as Asteroids and Star Raiders. Apparently written based entirely on the cover of the Atari 2600 version which features an astronaut. Seems like the kind of thing that probably should have stayed in ideaspace, but what do I know.
Support Every Game I’ve Finished on ko-fi! You can pick up a digital copy of exp. 2600, a zine featuring all-exclusive writing at my shop, or join as a supporter at just $1 a month and get articles like this a week early.
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huxley’s zodiac chart
huxley zodiac chart time <3 i actually changed this chart around So much before i finally felt solid about it. it was a struggle not to just give him All taurus placements because i truly believe there is an argument for each placement here to be taurus. anyway
character analysis and astrology ramblings under the cut!
masterlist for the series
sun- taurus
moon- libra
rising- cancer
mercury- gemini
venus- taurus
mars- taurus
before we get into huxley’s actual chart, we should cover the topic of stelliums. in astrology, a stellium is a group of three or more planets in the same sign or house in a chart. there is some debate about what exactly qualifies as a stellium but the basic agreement is that the rising sign does not count (it isn’t a planet) and it has to be at least three from the inner planets (all listed here, including jupiter and saturn). the outer planets (uranus, neptune, and pluto) don’t count because they are considered to be generational planets (meaning that they are slow-moving and many people born around the same time share the placement) and might not have as much impact on your day-to-day life. asteroids also aren’t counted because they are a relatively new discovery added to astrology and not part of the inner planets. they’re more like the little details to the painting of a birth chart, compared to the broad strokes of the inner planets. as for what a stellium is like in practice, it is just a very concentrated energy of that sign or house. people with stelliums tend to go through stages of extremes where nothing is going on to everything is going right/wrong. this is because as the planets go through transits, if it affects (for example) one taurus placement of huxley’s, it would affect the rest too. as an example, if the sun was in taurus, not only would he feel the effects of that in his sun sign, but he would for his mars and venus as well. with all of that being said, i wanted huxley to have a taurus stellium, i feel its fitting and will explain why as we go.
taurus suns are extremely steady and dependable. taurus is the fixed earth sign so they often get the reputation of being stubborn. "bull-headed" is the term most often used because this sign is represented by the bull. but one thing about taurus is that they know when to choose their battles, and they do not choose lightly. taurus is a slow-moving sign, they spend their energy with purpose. i believe this definitely applies to huxley, stubborn on the things he wants to be, but ultimately chooses his battles wisely
libra moons are very friendly. they love people and love to talk to other people. libra moons also have a very strong sense of justice; they are represented by the symbol of scales after all. they take a lot of time with their feelings, weighing all options before moving forward. they very much value balance and peace. when i think about the expression of hux’s libra moon in canon, i think of his anger towards kody in his first audio but also his restraint toward kody during the inversion and how he spoke to damien through that (theres also that taurus “knowing when to choose your battles” thing there too)
the rising sign simply indicates the ruler of your first house, the house of self. it can also have an influence over your appearance. because cancer is ruled by the moon, cancer risings tend to have round faces (often called moon faces) and can have a more feminine appearance in general (regardless of agab). cancer risings come off as very friendly and caring individuals, which i think is shown perfectly in his first audio
huxley’s mercury sign was something i went back and forth a lot on. theres only three options (aries, taurus, and gemini) due to the nature of mercury, but i still struggled choosing. giving him a taurus mercury made sense because of his voice, taurus rules over the throat and when mercury (the planet of communication) is in taurus, the voice is often smooth, slow, and calming. and that is SO hux like FR. However.. hux rambles quite a bit and that is not characteristic of a taurus mercury at all. gemini mercuries on the other hand….. ramble city babey!! absolute chatter boxes <3 i think hux’s taurus stellium smooths out the gemini mercury’s chattiness a bit, but its definitely still there (and his stellium would explain the voice too tbh)
because taurus is ruled by venus, this placement is domicile! this means that the planet is comfortable in this sign. venus is the sign of beauty, relationships, finances, and aesthetics, among others. taurus venuses are often romantics who love love and have an appreciation for the finer things in a relationship, and life in general. once they commit they Really commit (the same can be said for the other fixed signs as well: leo, aquarius, and scorpio) and they tend to like to take their time when getting to know people. taurus venuses are extremely loyal as well. i think all of these things are applicable to dear hux <3
the opposite of a placement thats domicile is a placement that is detriment, which is the case for a taurus mars. scorpio is domicile for mars and the opposite of scorpio is taurus, so that makes it detriment. taurus mars are often slow to act. they may lack motivation beyond their comfort level (like failing the same elemental class multiple years in a row). and the previous elements of taurus are also exhibited for this planet (the planet of aggression, passion, and drive) as well: loyal, stubborn, values security. i think these all apply to hux for this area as well
#good grief this took forever to write#you reach a certain point where you know a sign TOO well that it becomes hard to explain#me n my tauruses#sigh#anyway#as always this is open for discussion/debate/etc#love to talk abt this stuff with ppl so id love to hear ur thoughts regardless if u know anything abt astrology#and i can always answer questions n stuff#astro thoughts#astrology#redacted asmr#redacted huxley
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A Spoiltastic Journey
Through The Entire Space: 1999 Canon
Up To “Odysseus Wept”
Story 1: Eternity Unleashed
Chapter 12 of 12
It's time for some spoily commentary on Chapter 12 of Eternity Unleashed!
Spoilers under the cut. You have been warned.
Back to Chapter 11 of this story
Back to original post on this story
Return to Series Preface
Forth to Story 2: The Touch of Venus
Chapter Twelve of Eternity Unleashed: A Spoiler-Filled Commentary
The final chapter of Balor's backstory novella is short, and consists of Balor’s musings about what happened to him.
For the first time, we see a character reckoning with the "immortality" part of Balor's immortality treatment, rather than just the physical invulnerability which has dominated the story so far.
Balor tells himself he’s been set free, and that being caged in a randomly floating asteroid until further notice is actually a win for him. Yes, it’s mind palace time, folks.
He immerses himself in his mum’s paintings, which must be fantastic for his mental health.
He wonders why the women in his life always leave him, and why his friends betrayed him. He thinks he should have tried to be a father to his adopted siblings. He decides children are more malleable when raised by the state, so the family subculture can’t radicalize them.
He contemplates how terror is the ultimate emotion: it’s on, or it’s off.
He gets into bodybuilding.
He hopes maybe an advanced civilization will find him, so he can learn from them, like how to be a better dictator and stuff. If primitives find him, he’ll have to teach them.
Whatever happens, he prepares for it: “I don’t choose to allow my fate to be decided by others.” He’s *so* close to getting it.
Anyway, there’s Balor, in the BSHCI, with his paintings, in his mind palace, for a super long time. According to the Powysverse Continuity, his incarceration takes place "centuries before" we next see him. Considering the known psychological effects of solitary confinement I'd say the events of Chapter 12 would cover a few years at most, even though Balor perceives the elapsed time to be much longer.
The Progrons' treatment of Balor is very difficult to admire. It seems they have either an extremely cruel, or an extremely improvisational and ignorant justice system to have done this to him. Since the head of the supreme court also seems to be world president, I'm guessing the latter. I don't know how Talian can justify such an action, if he really believes what he says about Balor's being just a man like any other.
Yes, Balor was fixing to do exactly this to everyone who opposed him, but isn't that why we're on Talian's side and not Balor's? What crimes would Balor have reasonably been charged with, since to all appearances anyone with enough power is allowed to do everything he did? And I'm not saying Balor should've been allowed to do all this, but that's exactly my point.
You could argue that the punishment is proportionate in an “eye for an eye” way, if you assume everyone sent into space would also have been in solitary confinement (and yeah I'm not arguing that having a cellmate makes the sentencing fairer, but it would be that bit less cruel).
But why expect Progron to have progressed beyond that concept of justice by now? They haven't even thought up representative democracy, so voting Balor out wasn't an option. You can criticize Talian's decisions, but he didn't make the world, and he's not used to thinking.
---
So anyway, here we are at the end of the first story in the Powysverse chronology. To recap, the first novel ever published in this series was the Balor-centric Resurrection, and Eternity Unleashed is the first part of a three-part book that was published a few years later in order to provide Balor with a backstory. Some flashbacks from the original edition of Resurrection were ported into Eternity Unleashed.
I guess this novella must contain some really important foundation for the worldbuilding of the series, and that will unfold as we go along.
The question is:
Is Eternity Unleashed Good?
The Amazon reviews suggest that some readers loved it. See here. It's highly rated on Goodreads as well.
I didn't really enjoy it myself. The first 88 pages were hard work. After that it became less like homework for me.
In Context
To be fair, the story isn’t meant to be read as slowly as I have done (10 pages a day, or to the end of a chapter, whichever comes first). Nor is the first part of the book meant to be read separately from the other two. And an unbroken tone of solemnity, combined with a slow pace, is something it has in common with Y1; and many readers want to be in that atmosphere again.
So why didn't I enjoy it? What's wrong with me?
If you have a character we already know we don’t like and - crucially - aren’t rooting for, it’s a bold choice to dwell in his POV and never attempt to make him sympathetic, or have him charm us into forgetting what he’s capable of. I'm certainly not one of those readers that needs to like every major character. But you have to do *something* to make the character and/or the story enjoyable, and whatever that could have been, by page 88 I still didn't have it.
It's not enough to say I haven't read the whole volume. It shouldn't take 88 pages of work before the story started to engage my interest. It’s only my dedication to the series that got me to stick with it that long.
We have two other backstories of major characters before Breakaway, and Balor's backstory is nearly three times as long as either of those, and I'm not sure it needed to be. There are several places where it gets repetitive.
What Eternity Unbound has going for it is that it's a pretty well-thought-out bit of worldbuilding. I can't say I ever got pulled into Progron, it was more like I was viewing it from a detached perspective. But the fridge logic works, and Balor is a psychologically plausible character on paper.
Gender Balance
NB running total = 28
F running total = 16
M running total = 29
Bechdel Score: 0. Only in Milsa's meeting with her counter-revolutionaries do any two female characters talk to each other, and even then they're talking about Balor.
Milsa does lead the movement to save her planet, though. So there's that.
Back to Chapter 11 of this story
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Return to Series Preface
Forth to Story 2: The Touch of Venus
#Space: 1999#william latham#Eternity Unleashed#Powys Media#Space: 1999 Y1#meta#Space: 1999 meta#original novel
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Far Away Soul, White Cold Star 💫
“Father..I’ve..crossed the Stars..” Chapter: 8
Far above the clouds, away from all the destruction, I opened my eyes.. I felt no pain, I felt... warmth.. it is like I'm back home again, but I feel so light it's like.. I'm flying-" opening his eyes Hijìn wasn't in the desert, not even at the place where he was floating.. he was flying above the planet in space. In fear, he looked down seeing how far up he was putting his hands to cover his face thinks he was going to die, yet there was something off about him.. he moved his hands back and they were transparent.. not only transparent but they were glowing a light orange. "What happened to me.. am I- no.. am I dead.." Hijìn thought with a saddened look on his face, looking around and seeing millions of souls flying in the same path he is going.
He clenched his fists in disappointment believing he had truly failed Aba.. if only he could see him one last time. A touch.. a touch, and another.. the boy's attention was lost as he turned around and saw a familiar face, it was Kÿr and oddly enough he was exactly like his friend just now glowing with an odd Blue transparent body. "A-re we?" Asked Hijìn staring out at the abyss of space ahead "yup.. this is the end of the line friend, I never imagined death to seem so beautiful but so endless.. I'm sorry we couldn't win- if only we..". Kÿr was cut off by his friend who said "No.. I should've listened to my father.. I should have stayed home away and never caused this madness I don't want you taking responsibility". Kÿr stared at his friend with hollow white glowing eyes upset at the sentiment "But.." only to be met with silence.
They stayed flying above the planet they once lived on to space and beyond slowly growing more and more empty. Was this really going to be the rest of their lives? Could this be the end? Hell, how could you even get out of this? Nevertheless, the world below them slowly rotated beneath them.. clouds flew by as time changed, and an expansive red continent passed down below them, followed by icy planes to expansive oceans. "I never knew the world was this beautiful.." Kÿr said as he held his friend's hand whilst they flew across the sky.
Hijìn nodded in agreement, but this end wasn't good enough for him.. he wanted to be free- live a long life.. meet new people; In his desperation, he would let go of Kÿr's hand and try to swim down towards the planet again. In a sense of heart wrench, "W-wait!? What do you think you're doing?!" Exclaimed Kÿr, he was long since void of any hope.. ever since the Corpse died he knew things would never be the same only to watch his friend try and continue in a life he's lost. "I don't care what anyone says.. I don't care for anything- I'm not going to stay up here and slowly fade away.. I-I can't be sure if it but these people lost their colors and are white souls because they lost their identities by being here so long, you can stay here but I am living.. I AM LIVING!" Yelled Hijìn in desperation not wanting this to be the end.
Kÿr watched on in hopelessness as his friend continued trying to swim down to the planet below, turning around and noticing something faint.. he jerked his body around to turn fully and his face grew emotionless. Far up in the sky, after being launched so hard by the Goddess the two's remains were shot to escape velocity speeds and ejected out to space, bodies frozen in the cold and torn to pieces by the speed and force Kÿr's soul watched in regret. "So we're stuck as Souls.. huh" He said in a depressed manner as the horizon to his right began to glow a soft purple.
Hijìn who grabbed onto an asteroid hopped off and propelled himself further until he was stopped by a strange purple aura, the glow illuminated his orange transparent face. Looking up and over the horizon of the world, the purple glow would continue to shine then from the darkness an explosion of light came over all things. Hijìn's empty hollow white eyes widened as the figure of a woman rising up covered the planet's backside, she stretched across the whole planet and seemed to be made of stardust. Hijìn stopped and simply watched, never seeing something so incredible before- Kÿr holding onto his dead body's face turned around to see the woman and he grew agitated snarling "Fate.."
The gigantic woman would awake opening her glowing white hollow eyes and rest her head on the planet, she appeared to be a spirit as well but for her sheer magnitude could she be a God?! Kÿr let go of his dead body and was about to shout out at the woman but before he could she silenced him by glancing at him. When she spoke the stars around them far away glowed like never before, the clouds turned pure white, and the two nearby giants which orbited the planet began to alternate in amazing colors. "Kÿr and Hijìn.. my two adorable sons, you did quite a mess on Almôra~ and sadly now you had to deal with one of the planet sisters Kudra..". Hijìn was outright scared and well-reasoned to, Aba had told him about Mother Fate and how cynical she could be with the punishment of individuals who pass their bounds making this interaction even the worse for the two.
Mother Fate would seemingly sigh at the sight of the two boys whizzing above the heavens of their home planet, she would look around the surrounding worlds before softly smiling with her eyes at the two. "You two are pure-hearted souls.. I can see that by reading your past lives-" she glared at Kÿr again who was rolling around a bit off balance and feeling her eyes on him he stopped and stared embarrassed. "Can we go back..?" Hijìn proclaimed out to Mother Fate wanting to know, he was still fearless, still wanting to fix anything not wanting to stay in this ethereal plane forever. Mother Fate watched Hijìn and would smile "Although there isn't a true way to be brought back to life..I'll let this one instance fly over the heavens..just don't act a fool and get yourself killed again." she said getting serious at the last part.
Hearing this news Hijìn grew so happy he started spinning around on the asteroid field before jumping over and bear hugging Kÿr who was taken back by such a gesture, but he felt there was a catch to it. "What's the catch.. I know you Fate.. there is always something to itch at the end of every reward" Kÿr said glaring at Mother Fate even though she bestowed upon him a second chance at life. She snickered as she gestured to stop playing. "Listen, my Son.. I have no reason to mess this time around, although I'd like for you to stop using my name to talk bad things.. ok? Now get going..I have many more important things to handle..and much more at work than it seems." she said as she flicked her hand, the boys would slowly start falling back down.
However, before they could fall far enough another Fate would say one last thing "Hijìn". He would turn to face her curious while also being excited for his new shot- "Hijìn you have a very unique looking soul.. it's like your multiple individuals in one and it makes you beautiful- but my true message is.. when you make it down.. look for the North Star I promise you'll find comfort". He nodded only to feel something off-putting about the North Star. He opened his mouth to try and ask something, but it was too late and they began to fall towards the planet at an alarming rate. They appeared like comets in the sky coming down to crash down, the world seemed to rotate faster until it came down to the red continent below. "W-w-wait?! We aren't going to the Desert again?!" Kÿr said in confusion and shock as they rapidly approached "Fate you Fucking Bi!" he said just as they broke through the atmosphere.
Mother Fate chuckled for a second knowing damn well that was her catch the whole time she just didn't feel bothered to mention it this time, she soon vanished amongst the stars leaving behind traces of stardust in her wake. Down below the boys made impact and landed in the red mega continent Valèrqä where many strange animals and vegetation exist upon. On impact the extremely tall trees were shaken harshly by the shockwave and out came the boys from their small crater, back in their bodies, back to their normal selves just in a brand-new world. The tendril in Hijìn's blind eye would quiver inside his head making him grow discomfort holding his head already getting strange feelings after just coming back from the dead.
An Alien world unknown to them before is now upon the two to discover and survive on. It brings new perils never seen before and adversaries stronger than they could imagine- following their deaths Hijìn and Kÿr must find their way around this Forest and maybe just maybe find a way back to their home.
(Authors Note: This is the end of the first Arc of "Far Away Soul, White Cold Star". I hope you enjoyed it and want to see more, any criticisms or comments will help the furthering of this story in the future. I plan to make this very long with many coinciding arcs in the future.. The Desert was just the beginning, and many more adventures were to be seen. Just for the small introduction of the next Arc, have this snit-bit)
Far away from the new arrivals on this Red new landscape, someone was watching from afar, they bore dark garbs and solemnly stared investigating what had recently arrived from the heavens above. The acts of Mother Fate had impacted the world below making seasonal changes to even the whole scale destruction in certain parts, these two could become an issue.. all that is left are two clear white eyes staring from the darkness until it vanished into thin air. Whole acres of trees combusting in the open air randomly, all is left to be seen and the Boys are the prime target now..
#action adventure#male protagonist#oc story#original story#forgonelands#forgonelandsoc#furry friends#firstarc#arcstarter
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What is Zero Space?
If there’s any hope of ever organizing any of this I should probably start at the beginning.
Zero Space is a pocket universe, an isolated “bubble” of reality significantly smaller than the real universe and operating under different physical laws. It connects, occasionally, to other universes through “vortexes”, essentially whirlpools of energy in space that form without warning and draw in unwary travellers. The most powerful vortexes tear planets apart, and their remains make up the asteroid fields, gas clouds, and fragmentary “worlds” of Zero Space.
The “space” of Zero Space is not vacuum, it’s just air that is too thin and low in oxygen to breathe safely for any length of time. So sound travels in space, ships can shed heat by methods other than radiating, it is very, very windy, and your ability to survive without a suit is limited mostly by how long you can hold your breath.
The “worlds” of Zero Space are called fragments. Fragments usually have breathable atmospheres and Earth-normal gravity of 1G, but none are larger than Earth’s moon, and most are much smaller. Fragments typically only have one or a few biomes. So you get your classic Star Wars style ocean world, desert world, jungle world, etc. Larger fragments are often (but not always) globe-shaped, with an outer surface and gravity pulling towards the center of the body. Other fragments resemble a “flying island” design, with a distinct “top” and “bottom”. Others have even stranger forms, such as the "city carved out of a moon” look of Mechropolis.
Fragments do not usually rotate around a central axis (although a few do) and they do not orbit anything. They hold relatively still positions in space, suspended by unknown forces.
At the center of Zero Space is the Crunch, a massive object much larger than any fragment, or even the full-scale planets of a proper universe. The surface of the Crunch is made of an impenetrable, glassy black material, and covered in deep crevices that shine brightly from some internal light source. While the surface can be walked on safely, with the same 1G of any fragment, anything that slips into a crevice is gone, seized by unbearable gravitic forces and pulled inside, never to be seen again.
There are no stars in Zero Space, but the Crunch puts off constant streams of strange radiation and exotic particles, which interact with gases in the air of space to produce plenty of light. The skies in Zero Space are a riot of colourful clouds and strange energies, with a sort of default “background” glow of twilight pink.
The precise size of the Zero Space pocket universe is unknown. The pocket of “open” space that people live in is entirely surrounded by a cloud of thick, corrosive dust. The Dust Cloud is difficult to navigate to begin with, like travelling through a thick fog that swallows up the light, drastically increasing the odds of collision with the asteroids and debris that clutter the cloud. The further one travels into the Dust Cloud, the thicker it gets, until a ship’s engines have to struggle just to make progress. All the while becoming more toxic and corrosive, eating away at the hull and threatening vital systems.
The basic form (and genre) of Zero Space is greatly inspired by the Savage Worlds game book Slipstream, which is set in a pocket universe that can be accessed by flying into a black hole. Slipstream is unapologetically pulp, and does a great job of replicating the genre of 1930s and 40s serial movies. It’s a lot of fun, but not exactly what I was looking for. What started as a few simple modifications for my own use quickly became A Whole Thing. The pocket universe, fragments, and the air in space are all lifted pretty directly from Slipstream (as well as from the same sources Slipstream is using for inspiration, of course). Other things come from other places, of course. With what I’m working with now I can easily trace lines of Star Wars, Blake’s 7, Firefly, a little touch of Lovecraft, this one video game I was playing a couple months back, and many others. I am, without question, a shameless hack who has never had an original idea in his life. I like to think I make it work alright, though.
Beyond the direct lifts, however, Slipstream for some reason opened up a sort of permission to me. Why not air in space? Why not gravity that doesn’t make sense? Why not a planet that’s just a giant tree? Who cares about real science? Shit that other people don’t seem to struggle with when doing games and etc but I always have, inexplicably solved for me by setting the whole thing in a wacky pocket universe. Strangely liberating.
The next step for me after that was “Why stick to the strict ‘30s gimmick that Slipstream has?” opening up even more possibilities. But I’ll save that for a different post.
edit: The map was made using Campaign Cartographer. It is the second edit of the fifth version of the Zero Space map so far, and likely far from the last.
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A3 Week 2 First Play Test!
This week during out workshop class we were able to conduct our first play tests. Getting through 3 of the 5 minimum for our assignment. As this was our first play test all testers were naïve, this session aimed to give a baseline set of feedback on in-game elements and future ideas. For this initial playtest I created a set of criteria to be updated weekly and changed to fit the specific play testing requirements of that week.
Our 3 play testers provided us with some excellent starting points for improvement to our base gameplay loop, in addition to talking about visual changes that can be made to make parts of our game clearer to the player. Some of the issues that surfaced during the play testing session where; enemy types looked too similar, both player and enemy projectiles were spawning in the wrong positions, enemies and asteroids spawning in the middle of the play space and sometimes on top of the player. All of these issues will be tackled before our next play testing session, in addition a group discussion is on-going as to our next play testing focus. Based on our feedback we are leaning towards a pure mechanical test however, we have yet to implement bosses and other power ups that could need testing as of the coming week. I also strive to help with the development of Cyber Flight by developing a prototype main menu and gameplay flow chart to assess our short terms goals for the game during this cycle.
[A short clip of a player destroying asteroids surrounding them]
This initial play test solidified our roles, with myself taking up the secondary note taker role, and paying close attention to the actions taken by each play tester rather than the verbal feedback begin communicated. I also partook in the play test of two other classmates, each play test helped me understand how exactly we should prompt our play testers in order to understand how and what they are thinking about our game. Similarly I drew back on my experience with a QUT VR play test that I took part in when adjusting the pre and post quiz this week. This play test was covered in the Part C of A3 with me providing further reflection on what I had experienced and how it changed my outlook towards play testing as a whole.
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2020 headlines
Midway through 2020, people started suggesting that I train a neural net on 2020 headlines, and I was skeptical that there would be enough weird ones to make a decent project. Then 2020 continued to be 2020. We started to get headlines such as:
Mysterious alien-like monolith discovered in Utah desert
What you need to know about 'murder hornets'
The Mystery of The Platypus Deepens With The Discovery of Its Biofluorescent Fur
Famous Vienna hotel turns to drive-in cake
And by the time we got to December, with more bioluminescent marsupials, mysterious monoliths, and the Galactic Federation, my course was clear.
I decided to use GPT-3, whose internet training data was all collected before October 2019. In other words, before 2020 happened. I gave GPT3 a list of 2020 headlines and let it add more text to the list. Having no data from 2020, would it even treat these as real headlines?
A lot of the generated headlines were from the natural world, in part because my list of examples tended to favor those. I really can’t tell if these are attempts to do novel but realistic headlines, or to completely goof around.
Swarming bears are given deadly slingshots by Russian hunters
Good news / Bad news about crows in Burlington schools
When Killer Orchids Attack: How the Deadly Corpse Orchid Is Turning Up in U.S. Backyards
Apparently There is No Good Photo of the "Melbourne Spider"
Desert mystery - what is this rock that looks like a plane ticket?
Fears rise of new dwarf hippo public relations disaster after rise in sightings
Mysterious Origin of Monster Deep-sea Toads Solved
What are 'dragon cats' and why they are getting hyped?
Massive radioactive sinkhole continues to grow in Russia
Why scientists believe the 'Killer Raccoons of the Pacific Northwest' are responsible for this kill
Lycoperdons, the tiny deadly puffballs, are on the march again
From deep in the Earth, darkness “boils” to the surface
A sassy tardigrade previews new Doctor Who
With other generated headlines, it looks more like GPT-3 assessed the 2020 headlines and went, “Murder hornets? Yeah okay and hellhounds too.” (This is clearly an algorithmic error; hellhounds are MUCH more likely to be found at the Denver International Airport.)
Proof that a hellhound is living at Los Angeles Airport has been provided in the photos below
First naked bogman has been found out walking the great British countryside
Reports of a '10-foot tall penguin' roaming about on the Family Islands in the Solomon Islands are investigated
Albino green sea monster filmed ... at the wrong time
Scientists discover the alien ant farm under the Antarctic ice
Lizardman: The Terrifying Tale of the Lizard Man of Scape Ore Swamp
I like its science/technology headlines. So many good little bots.
Researchers fear our solar system is being interfered with by alien space lasers
Mars rover finds only artificial organic matter on surface
Scientists Recreate Giant Liopleurodon In Lab
'Lost' NASA space shuttle repair robot comes back to life after four decades in complete darkness
Hey, Curiosity Rover, Don't Go Chasing Shadow Bugs
Small drone takes on six killer sharks in Shipwreck (Video)
Mysterious Hole Observed On the Sun
How did we miss this massive alien spaceship lurking on an abandoned asteroid?
Scorpions on the dark side of the moon
NASA: Has Earth 'Halted' And Stopped Spinning - If What NASA States is True, We Must All Celebrate! NOW!
i only showed the most interesting sorts of headlines; plenty were just ordinary news from 2019 or earlier. Others were new, technically, but not exactly news:
Breathing Is "Supercharging" Brain
Voyager 1 images: See contents of interstellar space
Scientists Take Photos In See-Through Scuba Gear, and This Is What They Got
Scientists do science… … and then write about it!
Scientists say climate change deniers should sit on a beach until it is underwater
Subscribers get bonus content: I tried another experiment in which I tried to produce more targeted headlines, around the theme of… tumbleweeds. (It turns out there were a LOT of dramatic tumbleweed headlines in 2020, due to their habit of descending on various places in apocalyptic numbers).
On the subject of GOOD things that have existed in 2020: please consider my book on AI, You Look Like a Thing and I Love You: Amazon - Barnes & Noble - Indiebound - Tattered Cover - Powell’s - Boulder Bookstore
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What do their bedrooms/living areas look like? I'm going to use all 3 of my asks to request this for all of the boys if that's ok! ❤
Man, I’ve had this one in my secret notes for a good while now!
Undertale:
Both the tale brothers live in a nice little gated community. Their house is one of the smaller ones and has the same layout as the one in Snowdin. The house is pretty basic with some cozy throws and wall tapestries to spruce it up
Sans: his room actually has a proper bed and frame this time. The sheets and blankets are still bundled up in a pile on the floor though. Sans also has his homemade trashnado in the corner. There’s a desk on the wall adjacent to the door which has his laptop. And several folders stacked next to it. Other than a dresser, there’s literally nothing else in there. Sans doesn’t care much about stuff
Papyrus: his room has bright orange walls. He left the race car bed behind underground but has a race car blanket to make up for it. His walls are covered in superhero and comic posters. He also has a display case for some old figurines and his comic collection. Papyrus’ desk is one of those nice fancy drafting ones where he can adjust it to tilt upwards. He has a ship wheel attached to his door for some reason.
Underswap
The swap bros home is only a few blocks from the classic brothers neighborhood. The only thing basic about it is the cream walls. All the furniture and decorations are bright colors. The kitchen especially is real nice. The oven and stove are top notch, and the counters are filled with mason jars full of goodies.
Star: his room can blind a lesser man when you walk in. The walls are bright yellow, the bed (which is a bunk bed by the way) is neon orange. Galaxy posters decorate the wall. Besides the clashing colors, the furniture is pretty basic. Only the top bunk actually has a mattress. The bottom bunk is used as a storage shelf. He also has a shoe rack by his door
Honey: you can practically feel the nerdy aura as you enter his room. The first thing you see is a display case housing some neat figurines of characters from his favorite shows. He’s also got a pretty nice bookshelf on the opposite wall that’s nearly full. Honeys bed has a curtain around it for extra privacy with a nice little wall lamp above the pillows
Underfell
They have a home a little closer to the city center but still far enough to be considered suburbs. It’s a very sleek and modern house with white walls, tile floors and sleek black and metal furniture. The only thing that doesn’t fit the rest of the theme is this nasty old patched up sofa in the living room. The thing is absolutely hideous but is sooo comfy.
Red: his room has soft grey walls and smells like miter oil. Makes sense since one wall is just a long basic table covered in machine parts that red tinkers with in his down time. He actually doesn’t have a bed. Instead he sleeps on this giant leather bean bag. He likes it that way. There’s a few car posters decorating the walls
Edge: he obviously put a lot of thought into his rooms decorations. Everything is pretty black marble or a sleek white wood. His bed covers are blood red with a nice geometric designs on top in silver. He has a beautiful black desk with some pretty jars filled to the brim with nothing but novelty pens. If you looked in his desk drawers you would find notebooks and even more pens
Swapfell
They don’t own a house and instead live in a two bedroom one bath apartment on the third floor of one of lords complexes. The furniture is pretty minimalistic but very nice quality. Most decorations are metal
Mal: the first thing you’ll see in his room is a large wooden drawing desk where pencils and watercolors are neatly arranged on the side. There’s also a vanity with a light up mirror and a nice collection of makeup. Also a huge slanted hunters knife. He uses it to make sure his eyeliner is extra sharp.
Cash: his bedroom is the perfect definition of organized chaos. It looks messy but for cash, he knows exactly where every thing is. There’s a small tv in there with some old game consoles hooked up to it. The bed is never made.
Horrortale
Their home rests in a neighborhood bordering the forest of ebott. The houses there all have a lot more yard space than most houses in the city. The horrortale home is super cozy with lots of knit throws and pillows scattered around. The back patio has a little dog door and there’s a 50% chance of seeing a chicken walk through lol
Oak: his room is also pretty basic. The bed however has so many blankets. Like way more than any person should need. Oak is a blanket hoarder. There’s a lot of notebooks stacked on his wooden desk along with a file of patterned paper for scrapbooking.
Willow: his room has a raised bed with a cute little ladder on the side so that his dog can jump up. You can tell a lot of the furniture has been homemade or refurbished. The room is larger and in the middle is a circular stone table that’s stained with paint. It’s usually housing his latest craft
Underlust
They used to live in the same neighborhood as the classic brothers but have recently moved closer to the inner city because of work. Their home is still in the process of being unpacked mostly, but their rooms are done! The house is actually pretty conservative looking with grey walls, white wooden furniture and soft pastel decor. They do have a stripper pole in the living room though lol
Charm: his room looks exactly how you expect from him. Dark walls with lots of bright rave type decorations. On his dresser is a large pretty cake display that stands out from the rest of the rooms theme lol. His room is always on a state of organized chaos with his desk and bed covered in nick knacks but the floors staying oddly clean
Sugar: his room has light lavender walls and black furniture. It’s a big difference from the soft feminine style people expect from him. Instead sugar has a more sleek modern style to his room. He also has a standard mannequin in the middle that always has a new dresses pinned to it.
Fellswap (red)
They own a pretty two story house only a block away from the two apartment complexes that lord owns. The front lawn/garden is in top shape with lots of those metal flower decorations stuck in the ground along the dirt outline. Inside the house is most worn but comfy looking furniture. Nothing special
Lord: his room is pretty basic with mostly brown and grey accents. He does have a large mostly filled bookcase. There’s also two white bean bags and a deep red rug that covers nearly the whole floor of the room.
Mutt: he actually has two rooms. The first is pretty simple with just his bed, a writing desk and a rack for some shoes. Also his bird cage for KFC (pet pigeon). The second room has a sink, and several cages and boxes for the injured animals that he rehabilitates. The second room is slightly larger than his actual room.
Fellswap gold
They actually live in a studio apartment above wines antique shop. The apartment used to be an unused storage static until wine bought the building and repurposed it. The living space itself is a little small, but they also have access to the roof which the gold bros use as a potted garden and dining area.
Wine: his room is very classy with silk curtains on the window and a silky cream canopy above his head. All the furniture is a dark grey wood with pretty carvings and designs. The walls are decorated with beautiful floral paintings from his brother. It’s a pretty well planned out room. Very cosy and luxurious
Coffee: he has two rooms as well. The smaller of the two is just his bed, dresser, closet and a tv with some consoles hooked up to it. The second room has shelves lining nearly every wall except for one which is just a big collab mural. On the shelves is various art supplies and projects. There’s one large sketch desk on one wall. And finally in the middle of the room is a tarp attached to the floor housing whatever piece of furniture coffee is restoring at the moment .
Dancetale
They also own an apartment, one of the flats in lords buildings on the ground floor. It’s the other building from the swapfell brothers. The walls are painted a cheery yellow and the house is mostly decorated with spring colors. There’s always a huge bowl of fresh fruit in the kitchen.
Pop: his room is mix and match of completely different furniture and gadgets. Pop isn’t someone who cares about themes so he will keep whatever catches his fancy. Instead of a bed, he has a hammock attacked to the ceiling with a pillow and some throw blankets casually tossed on top lol.
Rhythm: his room is pretty sparse with just his bed, a shoe rack, and a dresser. On the dresser are pictures of each of his face classes right before they graduate. Rhythm doesn’t really care all that much about decor so the walls are pretty bare too
Outertale
They live in the same gated community as the classic brothers! The outertale home has high ceilings and lots of windows. The living room is the real centerpiece of the home. It has several large antique bookcases and display cases. Inside the displays are various rocks and crystals and the occasional fossil. It’s really neat.
Pluto: his room is comprised of mostly blues grays and greens. He has a small bookcase on the side of his bed where he keeps the things he’s currently reading. There’s also a large fish-tank with an assortment of saltwater fish inside. Pluto’s room also has a large circular fluffy rug in the middle of the floor. The floor itself is hardwood
Jupiter: his room has a similar color scheme except instead of greens, Jupiter has gold instead. He has some exercise equipment stacked nicely on the side of his bed including weights. There’s a wall tapestry with a printed picture of the asteroid belt the outertale monsters used to live in.
Gastertale
The gaster brothers also live in the same neighborhood as the classic and outertale bros. They’re at the very end in the little cul-de-sac. The interior of the house is almost all white with cream carpet, metro grey walls, and white furniture. A few of the small decorations add a bit of color. There’s a lot of potted succulents.
G: his room is probably the only dark room of the house. His walls are a charcoal grey and the furniture is mostly jet black with a few mustard colored decorations. There’s a metal wire bookcase hanging on the wall. G also has a plastic anatomy dummy that he dresses up in his motorcycle gear when he’s not using it. G thinks he’s funny
Green: like the rest of the home, his room is also mostly white. He has a pretty pale green rack for all of his glasses on his dresser. Green also has his several degrees framed in silver on the walls. his room is always spotless
Farmtale:
The farm bros have an old Victorian home that they fixed up themselves. They’re home borders the acres of farmland they own and is about a 45 minute drive from ebott city. The inside is decorated with mostly wooden furniture. There’s like four rocking chairs on the porch lol
Peaches: his room fits the theme of the house with mostly wooden furniture and a lot of quilts and rugs to add color and soften it up. Peaches always has a vase of fresh wildflowers on his dresser. The walls have photographs of plants and animals taped to them that peaches took himself.
Rancher: this mad lad has a large moose skull hanging above his four poster log cabin bed. He also hangs his favorite hunting rifles just below the moose lol. His bedroom is mostly wooden of course but is also decorated with lots of red and orange plaids.
Horrorfell
They live in the same neighborhood as the horrortale and horrorswap brothers. Their home is literally right in between the two. Inside it’s decorated in a mix between sleek modern metals and frumpy cozy style. Somehow the horrorfell bros still have their original sofa from the underground. There’s a lot of little homemade staircases for their cat doomfanger who’s too old to claim on top of things herself now
Rust: his walls are painted a soft heather grey and have some basic wooden decorations that noir painted for fun. The furniture is pretty normal with the exception of a large treasure style chest next to his bed. Open it up and you’ll find a collection of drawings and gifts from the kids he’s watched over the years. Rust didn’t have the heart to throw them away.
Noir: unsurprisingly, his room is littered in canvases and paintings on the walls. It’s divided into two sides: the messy paint side and his nice neat living side. He even has a line of tape going down the middle to complete the divide. On his living side is his bed, closet, and a low bookcase that he uses as a second dresser. The actual bookcase is in the living room
Horrorswap
As y’all all know, their house is right next to the horrorfells and one house away from the horrortales. They like bright colors and have a sort of summery themed house. The best part is the back garden which is filled with garden boxes of veggies, fruit bushes, and fruit trees.
Lilac: his rooms main color is a pretty powder blue along with canary yellow and some bright green. He has a yoga mat on the floor in place of a rug. The walls have some neat sunrise posters
Basil: his room is pretty cosy with lots of knit blankets and fluffy pillows. He has a massive poster of Pixar’s ratatouille that rust got him as a joke. Basil has like five coconut planters, each housing a different herb plant making his room smell like an Italian restaurant
The Mafias (tale, fell, swap)
The mafia brothers live in an apartment complex masquerading as a warehouse. The ground and top two floors are working area while there were three secret basement levels. The mafia bros home consists of the whole bottom level with all their rooms connected to a hallway. At the end of the hallway is a living space and the kitchen.
Snipe: his room is the one closest to the living area. Inside is sage walls with a few house plants that can survive in low light. His bed is almost never made lol. If one was to tear the room apart, they would find at least six different guns stashed in hidden compartments
Bruiser: his room is the closest to the staircase. Inside the room somehow looks super messy but is actually spotless. Bruiser decorates the walls with all kinds of gifts people randomly give him during his vigilante escapes. Stuff from pocket mirrors, to foreign currency to even a small collection of sea shells. He drilled holes into them and hung them up on strings. Other than his walls, the furniture is pretty plain
Butch: his room is a mix of greys, blacks an silvers with the basics of furniture and a small black leather sofa. On the walls are some pretty hand melded metal decorations that butch made himself. He smokes in his room so it reeks of cigars
Boss: his room fits him perfectly with clean white plaster walls, sleek metal furniture and black and gold marble decor. Everything in that room has a specific place. If anyone moved his stuff, he’d know. It’s the only mafia bro room that doesn’t caught smell like smoke somehow. There’s a male model mannequin that he uses to practice designing clothes on
Ace: the most eye catching part of his room is a large vanity with several lamps attached and a very extensive makeup kit. I’m talking professional grade. Ace isn’t the spy for nothing. He also has an open closet so all his clothing is out on display. The main color of his room is mauve funny enough
Slim: his room is a drab grey and has a large desk taking up a whole wall. It’s filled with screens and monitors. He also has a few tv screens hooked up to the wall. It almost looks like a security room. On the other side is his bed with a canopy curtain for privacy. There’s a few anime posters on the wall as well
#undertale imagines#undertale headcanons#undertale#underswap#underfell#swapfell#horrortale#underlust#fellswap red#fellswap gold#dancetale#outertale#gastertale#farmtale#horrorfell#horrorswap#mafiatale#mafiafell#mafiaswap
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HASO, “Perfect Timing.”
Alright everyone. I am beginning to realize that maybe expecting myself to write a story every week day with a job and trying to get into grad school and writing a second novel might be a bit..... excessive?
So I am going to try for three times a week. I hope you all stick around :)
And I hope you enjoy today’s story as well.
Adam stood with his hands behind his back, feet spread to shoulder width. He would never have noticed by himself, but the men and women around him stood a little straighter and stepped a little faster under his watchful eye. Once upon a time they might have only hastened their work if he directly asked them too, but just his mere presence these days could send his crew scurrying to do their work. He hadn’t really changed anything about the way he commanded his men. He was firm when he needed to be but allowed for brevity when it would suit the situation.
However, a few years and some tough lessons was slowly shaping him into the kind of man who could command thousands, sharp posture, calm confidence, and a keen eye.
But then again anyone who could appear professional while wearing high top heelies was a man to be reckoned with.
Sunny walked up next to him her pearlescent white armor glowing under the light as she leaned on the shade of her matching spear. Her head was held high like his. Where once she had been locked up, and defensive, she now stood with the calm confidence of someone who understood what control meant.
Together they had come a long way.
She tilted her head, “You really think he’s going to let you race this…. It’s a million dollar piece of military hardware, they don’t stand a chance.”
Adam didn’t move, hands still clasped behind his back as he stared up at the F-90 Darkfire he was preparing for the race, “I wouldn’t be so sure…. I’ll be lucky to come in last place.”
Sunny frowned confused, “I saw those shuttles, they were junk shows.”
He lifted his head as the F-90 was rolled across the deck.
“This is a race, it isn’t combat. She was built for dogfights which means she is going to be heavier than the others. Wing tip to wing tip she is also going to be a little longer than the other shuttles and jets making maneuvering around obstacles more difficult. Sure she likely has a more powerful engine, but that can be as much of a detriment as it is a leg up.” He gestured in the vague direction of the race course, “We are going to be racing through the planet’s smaller rocky ring. It has an unusual amount of larger, thick chunks which we are going to have to manuver around: the kind of conditions you might see in science fiction movies when they talk about an asteroid field. Asteroid fields are generally too far apart to cause any real issue, but here the rocks are dense, and my flying is going to have to be on pont, having a more powerful engine is going to make her more touchy, and my fitness on the controls is going to have to be absolute.”
Sunny tilted her head listening as he continued. She liked it when this side of him came out. There was something about the analytical, logical side of Adam she found….. Very appealing.
He walked forward to examine the jet himself, “Furthermore, I don’t know if you noticed, but there were a few jets there that weren’t exactly junk shows. A few of them were pretty top of the line, and most of them were built for racing. Lighter, sleeker, faster, and with more engine control than mine.
A lot of my maneuverability is lost out of the atmosphere. This isn’t about how well you can manipulate wind currents, this is going to be all about the very minute rotation of the rear and and wing engines. Their wings are smaller and closer in meaning they are going to rotate more easily than me.
She walked up with him and put a hand on his shoulder, “You forgot to fact in one thing.”
He frowned and looked up, “Oh, what did I miss.”
She smiled slightly, “The skill of the pilot, and I know for a fact that we have the best pilot this side of Andromeda. You can have the best plane in the world, but if you have a shit pilot, then a good pilot in a flying trash can has a chance of winning.”
He Smiled, “Thanks, I needed that.”
He stepped back, “Still it doesn't pay to be too cocky. I have a feeling these people have raced this before, they are going to know what they are dealing with, and I am going tinto this completely blind. This is a test to see if my instincts are better than their practice…. Who knows it could be a very close run thing.”
He moved forward to do an extra check on the outside of the ship despite having a whole team of people to do it for him. Adam had learned to delegate a lot of his responsibilities onto others to avoid burnout, but this was one thing he never left to other people. He came back after a thorough check of the ship and stopped next to her.
His head was tilted to one side as he looked at the machine sitting before him.
“It is missing something.”
Sunny turned her head to look at him, “What?”
He smiled, “Do we have anyone here who has experience with graffiti?”
***
Donavan Red met him when he entered the hanger, wearing his flight suit and holding his helmet under one arm. He had gone for some of his more simple equipment. Didn’t want to give the guy an excuse to blame his skill on technology.
Red looked him over.
“Nice suit, princess.”
Adam just smiled thinly looking around at the other pilots, “I see I might be under-dressed.”
To be far though, he wasn’t exactly sure what he would have described the dress code, if he had to put it on an invitation.
The most apt description seemed to have been.
Dress for Pissing contest.
The men and women wore their uniforms in the same way NASCAR drivers might, covered in logos and patterns. Some of them were clearly custom ordered with personal designs on the backs or the helmets, some sporting flames, others cartoon animals, one guy was just covered in black and white skulls.
The affect up close was ok, but from a distance he just looked like an over excited dalmatian, or maybe some kind of flamboyant cow.
A few of them went for color themes, neon red on black. Neon green on blue.
Most of them tried to coordinate with the matching colors on their ship, each trying to outdo the next.
Red smirked.
The docking bay light began to blink red as the airlock was engaged, and the all turned to watch as the doors opened, and Adam’s jet rolled into the docking bay. She was simultaneously both very impressive and very not impressive. She was an instrument of war, and he rockets lined up on either side of her wings said as much. Adam had once considered her rather sleek in comparison to other jets of the day, but looking at her now in comparison with the racing planes and he couldn’t help but compare her to a pitbull or a bulldog next to greyhounds or whippets.
She rolled up slowly and Red raised an eyebrow.
“A whose guy huh?”
Adam smirked, “I don’t know, I kind of like it.”
They both looked up as the F-90 stopped in place, and along her side in delicate blue cursive script was the name Cinderella. The man who had done the graffiti had even taken the time to add some stylized pink roses to the front and end of the word giving it a finished look.
Donavan seemed both amused and annoyed at the same time.
The men and women around him turned to look over ridicule dying on their lips as they saw the smirk on his face.
It was made pretty clear.
He was going to beat them, and when he beat them, he was going to have a princess logo on the side of his jet, never mind all of their cool paint jobs.
Donavan frowned but then turned to everyone, “Alright load up!.”
Adam did as ordered, switching seats with the young pilot in the cockpit and strapping himself in. he adjusted his controls, did a quick once over, and then pulled some power from his engine. There was going to be an overwhelming desire to go fast, but he knew that speed wasn’t going to win him this race.
The jets began lining up next to each other, and to his surprise, one of the sleek racing models sidled up next to him, and when he looked over, he saw Donovan Red cambering into the cockpit.
That didn’t exactly bode well, but what was there to do about it.
He felt cool oxygen spilling onto his mouth and nose as the orange tinted visor dropped down over his eyes. He opted not to use the heads up display preferring to see everything around him as he was flying.
They were all in a line now, and up ahead a large projection appeared on the docking bay doors.
Red lights began to blink as the docking bay was cleared of everyone except for the jets.
The image of a woman appeared on the screen before them.
It was one of the women he had seen before in her cut off jean shorts and tight tank top.
“Ladies and gentlemen start - your - ENGINES!”
All around him the room was filled with a roar as the group of people pushed their engines to an idle.
He could feel the jet underneath him as it thrummed and whined vibrating into his gloves and down into his skin.
His very bones could feel the trembling.
“The course is simple, one lap around the rocky interior ring of the planet. Rules are only this, no leaving the ring, no weapons, and no teams, every man for himself. If the race moderators see any of this, you will be thrown from the race.”
She smiled and leaned back to reveal two green flags in either hand.
She began to wave them.
“On your mark!”
He took a deep calming breath forcing his hand to relax.
“Get set.”
He felt his heart beating hard against his ribcage, his stomach crawled up into his throat, and he felt the sudden and overwhelming need to pee.
“GO!”
THe airlock doors shot open faster than they should have been able, a clear sign someone had bypassed safety protocols. Caught off guard by this, Adam shot out of the gate slower than he would have liked. Already the racing jets streaked ahead, their quicker sleeker designs looking right at home against the blackness of space.
He had to remind himself that in space, without wind resistance, sleek didn’t mean shit.
If he was good enough he could have piloted a brick to win.
He gave more joice to the engine and shot forward. He cut under one of his other opponents and then cythed up next to a second.
He was there for only a moment when he saw something coming in from his right.
Instincts had him move fast, and he turned horizontal shooting upwards just as another jet tried to push him out. He was flying over the two of them now, and gave another burst shooting forward and past them.
This open stretch was the only time he was going to be able to use the power of his engine to his advantage, so he gave her a little more juice and shot forward catching up quickly with the racing models at the front. Two of them cut sideways attempting to block his path. He cursed, forced to fire his engines backwards so as not to go crashing into them.
The ring was approaching quickly now, and he could see very clearly that they had not been kidding. The belt was dense, less mate out of fine sand, and instead made up of billions of rocks some the size of him, others the size of cars, and even some the size of large houses. It was the strangest sort of formation he had ever seen around a planet, and he wondered idly how they stayed in orbit.
The two jets ahead of him cut right and then left as a rock came barreling towards him.
He shouted and rolled to the side barely avoiding a head on collision, his instincts saving him where his active brain could not.
He snarled.
“Pull it together.”
There was no time to be thinking, there was only time for flying.
WIth a practiced hand he toggled a switch on the side of his thumb, and his helmet was suddenly filled with the sound of music and drums. His brain focused inward and stopped thinking. He shot over and then under rolling between rocks just inches away on either side. Off to his right the planet below was glowing with the light of it’s star, a lightning blue halo around it where the atmosphere glowed.
He cut the left dove down and then rolled up.
He could see the other jets ahead of him cutting in and out through the rocks. His breathing grew even, his body relaxed, his brain heard nothing but the beat of the music and saw nothing but the obstacles ahead of him.
One of the jets pulled up next to him from behind recklessly rolling around one of the rocks. They were racing wing tip to wing tip now.
They cut right and left under and over he rolled left they rolled right. They were shaky just hanging on, but his flying was smooth.
Up ahead one of the other jets lit up with glowing orange as a set of flares broke from it’s back end shatting against the debris behind it. Rocks were thrown off their normal course and went smashing into each other turning the rock field ahead of them into a meat grinder. Adam shot forward and dived downward while rolling tight, behind him the racer was unable to replicate the move and a piece of rock caught their wing sending them spinning off to the side and out of the ring.
Adam dodged a piece of debris coming in from his left, flipped upside down and shot diving upward and then righting himself just under the jet up front.
He could see the leader now, and recognized it as Red himself .
The jet above him attempted to drop down and knock him out of position, but he gave a burst to the engine and shot forward.
The jet behind him punched downward and nearly collided into a rock before pulling back into the palace.
Adam took their place in second.
Red could see him coming.
Another set of flares was released.
He checked his forward momentum and rolled three or four times to his right. G forces tugged at his consciousness forcing blackness to the edge of his vision. He tightened the muscles of his chest and stomach forcing blood back up into his head as he breathed out in short controlled bursts.
A rock flew overhead, he cut low, bumped up and then executed a rolling turn over a massive rock pulling in behind red and just up to the right to avoid another burst of flares.
The two of them were fighting for the front now.
And red was good, he knew how to handle a jet, but so did Adam.
They roared past a field of rocks splitting apart as a massive chunk came between them. Adam roared forward, and panicked for a single moment as he saw an impenetrable wall of rock appear just before him. Then a crack appeared. He fired the forward engine and cut horizontal passing through an opening that left him only feet to spare. Rock rose up to meet him, and he rotated his engine up dropping vertically before cutting sideways and passing under a rock. Teeth gritted, he punched upward passing through a gap just as it closed behind him.
A yell of exertain escaped his lips as he pulled straight up cutting up the side of a massive mansion-sized rock before diving right back down into the thick of it.
Red was gone, he didn’t see him anymore.
Was he up front?
And then the sleek black jet dropped down from above cutting him off.
He cursed and swerved low past another rock forced to cut diagonal back into line.
He pulled up wing to wing with the men again.
They dove, they pulled up and they took a wide turn ac coordinated together as a military formation never more than four feet apart.
They were going faster than they probably should have reacted. second by second he rolled left Red went right. They both met in a dive rolling past each other, wings almost touching before cutting upwards mirroring each other in opposite directions. The sound of the music melded with the path of his flight.
They were racing side by side just as one of the other jets roared over them careening out of control in a desperate attempt t o reach front. They watched him dive pull up cut left, and then a rock rolled right into their path. The two of them barely had time to react as the rock hit their right wing and then sent them slamming into the next boulder. There was an eruption and a brief ball of fire as oxygen was consumed from inside the cockpit. Debris blossomed up around them in a miniature explosion.
Adam greeted his teeth, eyes wide .
What was once a race suddenly turned into a battlezone. He and Red dove together rolling around the debris desperately trying to avoid getting cut in two. At these speeds, one hit would be the death of them. His heart raced in his chest as he pulled forward cutting in the triangle made by three boulders side by side. Red mirrored him below.
A chunk of metal shot towards him, and he toggled his right wing burst just in time, lowering his left side just in time for the chunk to go flying past him. He pulled up with a gasp as a massive chunk of rock cut up before him. Red shot below and he rolled over the top coming into second place.
Up ahead a mining barge ascended through the line of rocks.
Adam roared with exertion as he pulled up and leveled out shooting right under the attached arm of the barge. Red lights erupted over it’s hull in a proximity warning as he went just inches overhead.
The barge driver, clearly spooked twisted to the side and the arm of the barge rolled with it, catching a boulder and sending it flying towards the grouping next to it, there was a sudden explosion of rock and again he was forced to roll to the side. Up down, over and under, cything between lines of rock.
He was almost hit once, then twice.
He toggled the forward engines, slowing himself down and then shooting straight up before continuing forward.
The rocks around him were rolling unpredictably colliding and then exploding into smaller pieces. There was no way he was making it through that alive.
He was rolling diving spinning twisting, and then, he felt it…. Something he had only felt on occasion. The world around him went silent, everything seemed to slow, and he was filled with…. With a feeling. It was like light, bursting out from his chest, rolling up through his skin and into his head.
He entered a moment of perfect execution. He cut into a tight roll his wings cything through the minute gaps between debris with timing so perfect it shouldn't have been humanly possible. Rocks passed by him at hundreds of miles an hour inches away from the glass of his canopy, one wrong move and he’d be dead. He cut through a gap that gave him inches on either side rolld right dove down, turned left, spun once and then twice, and made a completely vertical ascent. Rocks flew past him on his right and on his left.
Up ahead he could see a gap slowly closing before him. He opened up his engine and shot forward so fast everything was a blur.
The rocks collided behind him as they snapped shut, and he flew into the clear firing forward to slow himself, and then red was there too descending from above spinning and wobbling, almost out of control and careening directly towards a house sized boulder.
He panicked firing up and down at the same time and sending him into a spin.
He was heading directly towards the rock .
WIthout thinking Adam locked onto the rock, and fired. A rocket under his wing detached and shot forward exploding violently just in time for Red to pass through unharmed. Red jolted awkwardly and rolled to one side. Adam cut past under from right to left and rolled straight over red to avoid a rock.
There was a moment where the two of them were staring at each other through the clear canopy.
Eyes met for an instant, and Adam could see the wide eyed fear on the man’s face., Then Adam rolled ahead ducking under the last rock and then bursting out into space.
He let the F-90 have her moment, and completely opened the engine shooting forward and cutting through the finish line which flashed bright green. In that moment He was hit with such a sense of exhilaration and joy that he couldn't imagine anything better. Who needed drugs, who needed love, who needed any of that when you could fly.
Hed did a triumphant loop whooping the whole way.
Of course, a feeling like that can never last long and slowly began to fade away. THe reality of what he had just done was both terrifying and amazing to the point he felt his body begging to shake. The tension and fear he had been holding back exploded inside him just like that joy and he found his hands trembling on the joystick.
He let it overtake him. He had been like this since he was young and fighting it would only make things worse. Despite his shaking hands he flew back to the docking bay and landed his jet with the precision of a surgeon. Finally when the engine was off and the flood stable underneath him he slumped back in his seat shaking and racked with rolling tremors. He closed his eyes and breathed long and slow.
Behind him the others came limping in.
None of them were completely unscathed, at least one person was dead. His hands continued to shake as the airlock doors shut, and as soon as the room was pressurized, he opened the cockpit. As soon as it did, Sunny came running into the room and up the ladder. SHeleft her spear on the floor and helped him to climb out. His legs were shaking and he almost fell if it weren’t for her support.
She knew him too well, sitting him down on the lowest step and kneeling next to him.
“Are you ok?”
He grinned at her, “That was…. Holy shit.”
He held up his hand to watch the shaking, “I’m having an earthquake.”
It was just then that Red jumped out of his jet onto the floor. He staggered when he did but pushed away the men who tried to help, “What the ever loving FUCK just happened. The field had NEVER been like that. Jaz DIED out there, what the FUCK.”
The people milled around in confusion.
Red turned to him, eyes narrowing as he stalked over. Adam sighed and looked up as the man stopped to stand over him
“I’m sorry, I’ll get out of your hair.”
The man paused confused, “What?”
“I broke the rules. Means I forfeit.”
Red looked almost nonplussed, “What are you on about?”
Adam slowly took to his feet taking a few more deep wreaths to steady himself before drawing to his full height. He was stead now and looked down at Red with an unwavering gaze. He held out a hand, “I used weapons during the race, that was against the rules. These weren’t flares to move the rocks. I used a targeted missile during the race and that means I broke the rules.”
Red stared at him.
Then he snorted, “Damn the rules. You saved my ass.” he turned to look at his people, “I am more than man enough to acknowledge that.” HE turned back to Adam, “You saved my life you crazy bastard. I am not even sure how you are still alive ….. Because that flying…. That was….. Holy fuck.” He grinned and took Adam by the shoulder, “you shaking, man.” He held up his hand to show a tremor, “Me too, now let's go get some drinks and talk this out. I owe you after all.”
The two of them walked off through the forest of shaken pilots, “You are the kind of man I can see myself doing business with.”
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Adoption (part 2)
A gift for @a-flower-lover! This wound up being more along the lines of vignettes... Little snapshots into Danny’s life after being adopted by Clockwork. I hope that’s ok! (PART 1)
.
Mr. Lancer had met Charles Worth before, albeit briefly. The man had fostered a number of Casper High students and with that responsibility came parent-teacher conferences. He had struck Mr. Lancer as being steady and reliable, if, perhaps, impersonal, despite his predilection for clocks and ominous announcements. A decent foster parent, if not... ideal.
Mr. Worth just didn't seem to connect with his fosters, although he certainly didn't neglect them. Then, too, were the persistent rumors that his home was haunted.
Alright. So, Mr. Lancer didn't think Charles Worth was really a children person. Oh, he was a good person! It took one to do well as a foster parent, but... yeah.
Which was why the scene in front of him surprised him so much. Not the who of it, but the what.
The who was Daniel Fenton and Charles Worth waiting outside the office. The what was smiling and having a conversation. True, Mr. Fenton's smile looked like it was pasted on over several layers of anxiety, but it was genuine.
"Mr. Worth, Mr. Fenton?" he said, tamping down his surprise. "Come on in."
"Hi," said Mr. Fenton, his voice hoarse.
Mr. Worth smiled and nodded, pushing him up with his cane.
But Mr. Fenton must have noticed the curious look Mr. Lancer was giving him. "I knew Cl- Uh. Mr. Worth before this." He winced and smiled widely to cover it up. "So, uh, make up work? Since I missed the past week?"
"Yes, well, circumstances being what they are," aka his parents trying to murder him in public, in broad daylight (and didn't that give Mr. Lancer a chill?), "your teachers have put together a few packets for you to look over this weekend. They should get you more or less up to speed with where your classes are. I'm also willing to stay after school, to help you with anything you've missed in my classes."
.
Jazz knocked on the door of the Worth house. She had been made aware, via various supernatural (she did not particularly appreciate writing suddenly appearing on her fogged-up bathroom mirror) and mundane (Danny did have her phone number) means, that the man known as Charles Worth was actually the ghost known as Clockwork.
How this had occurred was not entirely clear to her. She assumed ghost powers, specifically time travel, were involved somehow.
But, to be honest, that didn't really matter to her. It was secondary, less than.
What was important here was that she hadn't been legally allowed to see her little brother in over a month. To keep her parents from contacting him. To keep her from letting her parents near him. Because they were legally barred from seeing him.
Because they had tried to kill him.
Jazz planned on never seeing her parents again, as soon as she got all of her and Danny's things from their house.
But now that prohibition had been lifted, because Clockwork had forced through what had to be the speediest adoption in the history of adoptions, and Danny was now legally his son. In the eyes of both humans and ghosts. Which was... Well. Danny seemed to be excited about it, anyway. He'd looked up to Clockwork for a while, from what he told Jazz.
Internally, Jazz had more than a bit of trepidation. She didn't know what adoption meant to ghosts, didn't have any context for it. And ghosts, even the good ones, even Danny, tended to be... obsessive. Extreme. She wasn't sure how that would translate when it came to interpersonal relationships.
The door creaked open, ever so slowly, the squeak it made grating on her eardrums. At first, it appeared to have opened on its own, then a hand gripped the edge of the door, and Clockwork, in human guise, leaned out from behind it.
Jazz raised an eyebrow.
Clockwork raised one right back. "This house is haunted, you know," he said.
Okay, never mind. The only thing she had to worry about was the fact that her brother and his mentor both had terrible senses of humor.
"Hi, Jazz!"
Being used to having a half-ghost brother, Jazz only yelped a little bit at his unexpected appearance behind her. Then she sighed and ruffled his hair. He hugged her and then bounced over the lintel into the house.
"Come on! I want to show you my room! It's so cool!" His voice became fainter as he went farther into the house, until his last exclamation was an eerie whisper.
Jazz looked at Clockwork as she stepped inside. "Is he doing that on purpose?"
Clockwork smiled blandly. "I am very fond of the acoustics in this house."
She looked at her surroundings with a skeptical eye. "It seems... dark in here."
"We are ghosts," said Clockwork. "Daniel is very excited to show you his room, by the way."
"He's human, too, don't forget," said Jazz.
"I won't."
.
The house was creepy.
Really creepy.
This was coming from someone who had spent most of her life living under the same roof as two ghost-obsessed mad scientists.
But Danny seemed to enjoy it, and he was the one living here. It wasn't like there was anything wrong with the house. Or anything in the house. It was just... off.
Danny was half-ghost, however, so maybe this was something he needed. Perhaps not all of his peppiness could be attributed to being the heck away from his murderous former parents.
Even so. Jazz had a duty, both as a big sister and an aspiring psychologist.
"I already read it," said Clockwork, setting a cup of tea down in front of her.
"What?"
"The book you were about to give me. I've already read it. And a number of others. I am not the kind of person who goes into things unprepared."
Danny rolled into the kitchen on the ceiling. This was easy to ignore. After her life, an Exorcist reference made by her over-excited younger brother, was, well. Underwhelming.
(Okay, she was a little distracted, but only by his glee.)
"Well," she said. "That's good."
.
"I know this house is out of the way," said Clockwork, craning his neck to look up at his coworker, "but you are rather conspicuous."
"Hm. Am I?" asked Pandora, craning her neck down to look at her comparatively tiny colleague.
"Yes. At that size, humans with average eyesight will be able to see you from town."
Pandora looked out over the trees. "Interesting," she said, mildly. "Do you think the ghost hunters will come?"
"You've spoken to Daniel."
"Yes. He stopped by earlier today, on his way to visit Mattingly. Although, I suppose you knew that already."
"Indeed I did. May I ask, is it your intention to lure the ghost hunters here, fight them, defeat them, and then leave them just close enough to here to constitute a breach of their terms of bail and the restraining order against them?"
"I am not terribly well-versed in human law," said Pandora, "but, why, yes. That is exactly what I'm doing. Best to get it done while Daniel is visiting friends, isn't it?"
"Yes. If you had done this while he was here, I would be significantly more annoyed." Clockwork smiled the sanguine smile of a parental figure who would commit murder if their child was upset.
Pandora returned a matching grin, one that promised retribution against persons who had harmed said child in the past. "Please, Clockwork. You know me better than that. I wouldn't subject him to being in the presence of those fools."
"Good," said Clockwork, eyes glinting.
.
"Hey, Clockwork? Do you know why there were police cars driving down the- Oh. Hello?" He stopped at the sight of an unfamiliar woman sitting at the dinning room table, next to Clockwork. He blinked and tilted his head to the side. "Wait. Pandora?"
"Perceptive," said the superficially human olive-skinned woman. "You seemed so happy when you stopped by, earlier. I thought I would come check in on you."
"You didn't have to," said Danny, beaming.
"Pandora has been trying to convince me to set her up as one of my relatives," said Clockwork, rolling his eyes. "Would you care for a cup of tea, Daniel?"
"Umm," said Danny, dubiously. "I'll try one, I guess. Does that mean you'll be my aunt?"
Pandora smiled. "Why, yes, it does."
Clockwork groaned theatrically.
.
"Ah," said Mr. Lancer, at the next parent-teacher conference. "Are you Mr. Worth's wife?"
"No," said Pandora, grinning. "I'm his sister."
Mr. Lancer looked back and forth between the two very different-looking entities. "I... see."
"We're adopted," said Clockwork.
"Oh! Alright then. Now, about Daniel..."
.
It was a bit strange to see Danny with so much energy, Sam reflected. Strange, but good.
It just went to show how drained he had become over time, how much the constant ghost attacks and worry, all the lies and stress and impossible expectations had worn away at him over time. She hadn't seen her friend this happy since freshman year. If that.
On the other hand...
"Dude," said Tucker. "Your house is spooky. And this is coming from someone who's been inside a literal mad science lab."
Danny rolled his eyes. "Mad science labs are campy, not spooky. Besides, you knew coming in that this house was haunted." He draped himself over the back of the couch, rolling until he was 'sitting' upside-down. "Anyway, what kind of movie do you want to watch? We've got a bunch, because Clockwork apparently collects media from doomed timelines."
"He's got a hobby?" asked Sam.
"Yeah, three," said Danny. "Gardening- you should talk to him about that, by the way, I think he'd like it- baking, and alternate timeline movies. And some books, too, I think. He's got a huge library back in Long Now. I've read like. Two books from it."
Clockwork's voice floated in from the other room. "You've read significantly more than that, Daniel."
"I guess," said Danny, doubtfully. He flopped off the couch, picked himself up, and started prodding at a shelf of movies. "This is from a timeline where the Earth got beaned by a massive asteroid. It's, like, a romcom, but it was made when everyone knew the asteroid was coming. This one is, uh, this is actually a dramatization of real events, apparently, but their timeline split from ours in like the fifties, so the events are pretty wild." He waved the DVD at them. "It's surreal?"
"How'd they die?" asked Tucker.
"Wacky superscience. No, really. Irradiated the entire planet."
"How do you know?" asked Sam.
"Oh, Clockwork puts notes on the boxes. He thinks it's interesting. And there does seem to be some correlation between how cursed the movies are and how bad the timeline was. Which maybe shouldn't surprise me? I mean, if they were bad timelines..." He shrugged. "Oh, this is a CGI Lion King. I can tell you: very cursed. Absolutely soulless. And this is from a timeline where copyright laws weren't changed, so Mickey Mouse and a bunch of other stuff was in the public domain."
"Isn't that a good timeline?" joked Sam.
"You'd think so," agreed Danny. "But apartheid in South Africa apparently never stopped, and they got a nuclear bomb, and, well... World War Three."
"Is that like, a domino effect, or...?"
"I'm not sure... Anyway. Uh. Genre?" He clapped his hands together.
Tucker leaned forward. "I want the wildest version of the Matrix you have."
"Ooh, good choice. There are, like, six with Will Smith. I haven't watched them all yet, but I think the one where they've got another sequel and Zion is also a- Wait, I shouldn't spoil it."
"After that, can you see if there's a non-crappy version of Dracula?" asked Sam.
"Sure. I haven't seen one yet, but I will look."
"I have popcorn," said Clockwork, entering the room, "and various baked goods. No dairy."
"You're the best."
.
Clockwork selected a thick blanket from the chest, then teleported himself to the living room to drape it over the three teenagers passed out on the couch. Overall, he found pretending to be human oddly enjoyable, but it could be trying at times. Tedious. All the finicky little motions humans had to go through to do the simplest of things added up over the day.
So, Clockwork tended to ease off of them when no one was watching. It made life easier.
Heh. Life.
(He would say that Daniel's puns were rubbing off on him, but in truth Clockwork's sense of humor had been like that for, well. Eons.)
He put the kitchen in order with an absent wave of his hand, and double-checked the stove out of habit. It wasn't nearly as good as his actual oven, back in Long Now, but it was serviceable.
One of Daniel's friends mumbled in their sleep, and Clockwork looked in on them. Still peaceful. It was good for Daniel to have them here. Beneficial for both his human and ghost halves.
He hummed to himself and patted Daniel's head as he thought about their plans for the weekend. He had arranged for some truly aggravating evangelical missionaries to darken their doorstep. It would do Daniel good to inspire a touch of terror. In an entirely controlled and risk-free way, of course. No matter how unpleasant the people coming were, Clockwork had no intention of harming them, or suggesting anything of the sort.
But, well. They were ghosts. Being feared was soothing.
(Clockwork knew this wasn't what Jasmine meant when she suggested Clockwork engage in family bonding activities with Daniel. But what she didn't know...)
.
"I think my teeth are getting sharper," said Danny, pulling a face at the mirror. "Is that normal?" The last was shouted, to get Clockwork's attention. Intellectually, Danny knew he didn't need to do that, but a lifetime of habit was hard to shake.
"It is difficult to say what is normal for someone like you, but many ghosts do have fangs," said Clockwork. "Including myself."
"Hm," said Danny. "This isn't, like, a ghost puberty thing, is it? Because I already used up most of my evil puberty jokes."
"Oh, only most?" Clockwork slid behind him and started rubbing the tension out of his shoulders.
Danny shrugged. "Eh, give or take. But, seriously."
"No, it isn't a ghost puberty thing."
"Oh, good. Because dealing with one puberty is more than enough."
Clockwork was silent. Danny looked up and met troubled eyes in the mirror.
"Clockwork?"
"Daniel," started Clockwork, before giving Danny an uneasy smile. "Speaking of puberty..."
Danny blanched. "No."
"What?"
"No. Nope. Not doing the talk today, no sir. I got that at school."
"Daniel, as strange as Casper High may be at times, I highly doubt they taught you anything about immortality."
"What."
.
"It's why ghosts put so much forethought into relationships like this," explained Clockwork, careful not to look directly at Daniel's hiding place. "They might last forever. I certainly hope this one does."
"But I don't want to be a teenager forever!" wailed Danny. He had mastered the art of making his voice sound like it was coming from a completely different direction than it actually was.
Clockwork was older than human civilization and had been worshiped as a god by several civilizations. He did not wince at the heartbreak in his child's voice.
"Your shapeshifting abilities should come in after a few years," said Clockwork. "You'll be able to pass as older."
Daniel answered with a moan.
"I must confess, I'm not sure why you are so upset about this. I can see that you are, but could you explain why for me?"
"I don't knoooooowww..."
.
"I don't want everyone to die and leave me alone," admitted Danny, hunched over a carton of ice cream. "I don't want to see my- my people die." He sniffled.
"We don't have to stay in Amity Park if you don't want to," said Clockwork.
Danny shook his head. "No! That's worse," he said, hating how his voice tilted into a whine. "That's- I can't abandon them! I can't- can't miss their time. I just..." He let out a huff of air. "It's hard."
Clockwork wrapped an arm around Daniel's shoulders. "It may not help much," he said, "but people in Amity Park have a much higher chance of becoming ghosts. It's the ectoplasm in the air."
"Promise?" asked Danny.
"Promise. Although, who, exactly, becomes a ghost is outside of my control. All I can tell you is that the people here have a better chance."
Danny leaned against Clockwork. "Thanks," he mumbled. "Clockwork?"
"Yes?"
"You don't think I'm a freak, do you?"
"Of course not."
.
Mr. Lancer squinted down at Daniel Fenton's latest assignment with a mix of appreciation, disbelief, and shame. This was easily the best work he had ever received from Daniel. In fact, it rivaled papers he had received from Jasmine.
It made him wonder- How long had Daniel been suffering? What had Daniel been suffering? He was no expert when it came to abuse, but all teachers had some training, and he knew that abusers tended to escalate, starting with something relatively innocuous and ending with a travesty. For things to progress to attempted murder... What had it started as? When had it begun?
(Could Mr. Lancer have stopped it?)
(That question would haunt him more than any ghost.)
Well, there was a silver lining to this, Mr. Lancer supposed. He had rarely seen two people who got along as well as Daniel and Charles Worth. It was good, he thought, for the man to have someone in his life on a more permanent basis, rather than the revolving door of temporary foster children.
How rapidly the adoption went through was a little odd, but... Mr. Lancer shrugged. Undoubtedly, Mr. Worth had taken the time over his years as a foster parent to familiarize himself with the system, and with Daniel's former parents unfit to be anywhere near children...
He shrugged again and stamped Daniel's paper with an A+.
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Flufftober Day 4 - Wounded
The last thing Firmus Piett expected to see upon entering Lord Vader’s quarters was Luke Skywalker asleep on the couch.
His jaw dropped, and so did the stack of datapads in his hands. He fumbled them for a moment, nearly caught them, and then they hit the floor with a clatter.
This was it, then. This was how he died. Because whatever the explanation was for this, he was certain Lord Vader wouldn’t be inclined to share it with him.
Unwilling to leave a mess as his last legacy, Piett knelt and began gathering the datapads with numb fingers. One had bounced across the floor out of reach, and before he could lean forward to retrieve it, it lifted off the ground.
Piett stared as the datapad floated lazily towards him, forcing himself to take it and add it to the stack as if nothing out of the ordinary were occurring. As if a prominent member of the Empire’s Most Wanted List and Lord Vader’s personal obsession wasn’t propped up against a pile of pillows on Lord Vader’s couch with a blanket wrapped around him, blinking sleepily up at Piett with his hair sticking out at odd angles.
“That last one got away from you,” Skywalker said, then yawned. He at least had the good grace to cover his mouth and look embarassed. “I hope it’s not broken.”
“I’m...er...I’m sure it’s fine,” Piett responded. He tightened his grip on the treacherous datapads and stood straight, considering his next move. If this was a trap for Lord Vader, it was an extraordinarily bad one. He’d quite literally caught Skywalker sleeping on the job.
Still, Skywalker was a Jedi, and had obviously captured Lord Vader’s attention for a reason. It was best not to underestimate him. Even if he did look remarkably young and slight, stretched out on a couch that Piett had never seen anyone use before.
He knew better than most, appearances could be deceiving.
“You seem surprised,” Skywalker remarked.
“Candidly, yes.” Piett sat the stack of datapads on a small table by the door. Best to have his hands free, just in case. “I am accustomed to finding Rebel spies in our ranks, but not sleeping in Lord Vader’s quarters.”
The boy laughed softly. “I’m no spy. And you can stop worrying.” He pulled the blanket back, revealing a cast encasing his right leg. “I’m not much of a threat right now.”
Piett kept his gaze steady. Appearances, and all that. “You’ll forgive me for disagreeing.”
Skywalker shrugged. “Up to you. You’re looking for Vader?”
“Lord Vader and I have a briefing at 1900, yes.”
The boy’s eyes widened. “It’s 1900 already?”
“Past, by now.”
“He’s late. He should have been back ages ago.” Skywalker closed his eyes, his brow furrowed and his face drawn with worry. When he opened his eyes again, his gaze was blank and unseeing. Just as Piett was starting to worry, the boy blinked, shook his head and focused back on Piett. “I can’t find him,” he said. “This isn’t right. Can you com him? He might be--”
“Stop,” Piett said firmly. Skywalker, for all that he wasn’t a member of the Imperial Navy and likely held no respect for Piett’s authority, stopped. “Under no circumstances will I com Lord Vader at the request of the Rebel I found in his quarters unless you explain to me exactly what is going on here.”
The boy looked well and truly frightened now. Perhaps his ruse, whatever it was, was starting to unravel. “You know what the Force is, right?”
“Yes.” Jedi and their bygone religion were strictly taboo subjects in the Imperial ranks, but one didn’t survive in Lord Vader’s service for long without developing a healthy respect for his strange abilities.
“Vader and I can both use it. It lets us...it’s hard to explain, but we can sense each other. We can use it to communicate, and to track each other’s locations.” His expression softened for a moment. “It’s how he found me when I hurt my leg.”
Piett was more open-minded than his predecessor had been, but even he drew the line somewhere. “Are you trying to tell me that the Supreme Commander of the Imperial Navy is secretly communicating with a Rebel Jedi using his mind?”
Skywalker looked pained. “I told you, it’s hard to explain. And we weren’t secretly communicating. Until a few days ago it was mostly him talking and me ignoring him.”
“I see,” Piett said flatly.
“No,” the boy exclaimed, “you don’t! He always answers when I reach out, always. And he’s not answering now and I can’t sense him, which means he’s either shielding or something’s happened to him.”
“Shielding?”
“It’s...” Skywalker puffed out an exasperated breath. “It’s exactly what it sounds like. You have shields around this ship protecting her from things trying to harm her - asteroids and proton torpedoes, things like that. We can do the same thing, to protect our minds from intruders.”
“Perhaps,” Piett suggested dryly, “Lord Vader is occupied with something which he doesn’t want a member of the Rebel Alliance ‘intruding’ on.”
Skywalker looked stricken, and so young. How could this boy, barely into adulthood, be responsible for so many Imperial lives? “I know you don’t trust me,” he said. “You have no reason to, and my--Vader wouldn’t trust you so much if you were easily fooled. But hasn’t he ever given you an order that didn’t make sense, that was based on one of his hunches or feelings, and it turned out to be correct? That’s the Force. I have the same hunches and feelings, and right now they’re telling me that something is wrong.”
His voice was completely earnest, and layered iwth a depth of emotion Piett couldn’t begin to comprehend.
“Please,” he added softly.
Piett understood the Imperial system better than anyone. He knew all too well that military protocol demanded Skywalker be arrested, if not shot on sight. Conversing with him, comming Lord Vader at his request, was beyond foolish. A junior officer making a mistake like this would have been stripped of his rank, either officially or through Lord Vader’s alternative methods of staff management.
But Piett had not become an admiral through blind adherence to protocol, least of all where Lord Vader’s hunt for Skywalker was concerned. The efforts expended always seemed to far outweigh any strategic benefits to be gained by Skywalker’s capture, but they had carried on relentlessly.
Which suggested, Piett knew, that there was more to Lord Vader’s obsession than military strategy. The way he had stared into space after the Millenium Falcon had impossibly escaped from the trap laid at Cloud City, then walked off the bridge as if he carried the weight of the galaxy on his shoulders.
The way Skywalker looked at him now, eyes wide and pleading.
There was something here that he didn’t fully understand. But, like Skywalker had said, sometimes, when it came to Lord Vader, the right course of action didn’t always make sense.
He took out his comlink. Relief washed over Skywalker’s face. “One last question,” Piett said. “Why, exactly, are you here?”
Skywalker looked perplexed. “I broke my leg.”
Piett wanted nothing more than to roll his eyes, but years of military training stopped him. “You’re Luke Skywalker,” he said, “and I found you sleeping, unguarded and unrestrained, in Darth Vader’s quarters. Why are you here?”
“Ohhh,” Skywalker said, as if it hadn’t occurred to him that his presence would raise questions. “He knows I’m here, if that’s what you’re asking. He brought me here.”
“Are you a prisoner?”
A fleeting, pained expression crossed the boy’s face. “I don’t know.”
Piett nodded. This was enough. It would have to be. He had a feeling asking more questions - learning anything more about this strange boy and his place in Lord Vader’s life - would be hazardous to his health.
He activated his comlink. Before he could enter Lord Vader’s frequency, the boy gasped softly. Piett lowered the comlink in alarm. “What is it?”
“He’s--”
The door slid open and Lord Vader entered. Piett snapped to attention as Vader paused just inside the doorway.
“Admiral.” There was a warning note in his voice that Piett had heard too many times before.
“Lord Vader,” he said. His voice was steady and his heart rate was normal. He had learned long ago that fear only sharpened Lord Vader’s temper. “I apologize. I arrived for our 1900 briefing and--”
“And you weren’t here,” Skywalker interrupted. “He was just about to com you for me.”
Lord Vader tilted his head. “I was delayed over an hour. Why did you wait until now?”
Skywalker’s cheeks flushed and he glanced down at the blanket covering his legs. “I fell asleep,” he muttered.
There was a soft noise from Lord Vader’s respirator, one Piett had never heard before. He walked over to the couch and smoothed down Skywalker’s unruly hair. The boy closed his eyes and put his own hand over Vader’s.
Piett began mentally putting his affairs in order.
“I apologize, little one.”
Piett moved on to listing all the people he would have said goodbye to.
“I couldn’t sense you. Are you alright? Where were you?”
“Having a conversation where I could not be interrupted, and where it was imperative that your presence not be detected.”
Skywalker went very pale. “You mean--”
“Yes,” Lord Vader said. “You are not safe here anymore.”
The boy’s grip on the black-gloved hand tightened. “What do we do?”
“Not now, Luke.” He turned to Piett, who held his head high and hoped it would be quick. “Admiral, your decision to hear Skywalker out rather than arrest him was sound.”
“I--” For a moment Piett wasn’t sure what was happening. “Thank you, Lord Vader.”
“I trust you will continue to show the same good judgment in the future.”
There was no mistaking Lord Vader’s meaning, and only one answer that would keep him alive. “I will, my lord.”
“Good. There is a Corellian VCX-Series fighter in my personal hangar. Have it refueled and fully provisioned before the morning shift.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Are you sending me away?” Skywalker interjected softly.
“Dismissed, Admrial,” Lord Vader said, then turned back to Skywalker as if Piett had ceased to exist. “Not by choice, little one.”
Piett didn’t hear Skywalker’s murmered answer. He was already moving - was lucky to be alive - was halfway through the door when Skywalker called out to him.
“Admiral Piett?”
He turned, remembered belatedly that he knew the boy’s rank. “Yes, Commander?”
Skywalker smiled faintly at the title. “Thank you for listening. Instead of arresting me, I mean.”
Piett wanted to tell Skywalker to take care not to fall asleep out in the open again, that other officers would not be as patient as he had been. But Lord Vader’s hand rested heavily on the boy’s shoulder, so he simply nodded and said, “of course.”
The door slid shut, leaving him finally, mercifully alone in the corridor. He stood very still, allowing himself a moment to try to make sense of what just happened.
Piett had never seen Lord Vader show a shred of kindness to anyone before, much less receive kindness from anyone who wasn’t looking for something in return. Why had Skywalker spent the last three years running if this was how they behaved towards one another?
Maybe Skywalker, like Piett, hadn’t known that Lord Vader was capable of kindness.
Skywalker seemed to have made his decision. It was time for Piett to make his.
He could tend to the Corellian fighter as Lord Vader had commanded, undoubtedly committing treason and helping a wanted criminal return to the Rebellion. Or he could contact Imperial Centre - for that was surely who Lord Vader’s private conversation had been with - inform them that a Rebel Jedi was secreted away on board his ship, and be responsible for destroying the heart he hadn’t known Lord Vader to have until just minutes ago.
It was no decision at all, really.
Piett straightened his collar and set off. He had precious little time left before he was due back on the bridge.
But it was time enough to refuel a starfighter.
#y'all this is the first time I've written Piett#or written this much fluff#and it was SO FUN#my fic#sw fic#fictober 2020#flufftober#flufftober 2020#admiral piett#firmus piett#let admiral piett rest#luke skywalker#darth vader
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Since I’m still in a sci-fi mood (along with, like, monsters and romance stuff too, but that’s always there), and I haven’t been able to really... make any new written content recently, I decided to rework an old one-shot I wrote for the space pirate au with how my Henry, Hugo, met Bendy in it.
I honestly don’t remember if I ever posted it here, I know I posted it on discord for my friends to read, but I’m posting up a better version here. Plus, rewriting an old drabble might help me get back into the swing of things when it comes to writing! Especially since I’ve got a zine entry to work on.
As always, Hugo is a half human/half alien (Asterian), and he’s fourteen in this. Bendy is a being from another universe or dimension, it’s unclear where Bendy’s from, but he’s a demon.
Asterians are a race of aliens that have the ability to travel through the vacuum of space with no need to breathe and have bioluminescent skin, but because Hugo is part human, he can’t last as long in space as he should.
On with the fic!
--
Hugo had lost count of how long he had been left on this stupid hunk of space rock, but he knew that he would probably be dead in due time.
He considered that he’s probably got about an hour or two left, and knowing the Butcher Gang, they’ll either show up last minute to watch him suffer before putting him back on the ship, or they’ll just let him perish. They’re real jackasses like that.
At least he took his sketchbook with him after they threw him off the ship for their own enjoyment, but still, not much to draw when all around him was just inky darkness and a weak light source from a distant star.
He sighed, soundless, his skin gently flashing a neon green, starting from his face down to his fingertips.
“Dat’s a real fancy trick ya can do, kid.”
Hugo’s eyes widened and he turned, shocked to have heard a voice, when he normally couldn’t hear anything in the vacuum of space. He was surprised to see something moving in the darkness of space around him. Something shifted, specks of lights moving around in front of him, before something formed. It looked like a wide, cartoon-ish smile, and from there a whiteness started to spread, forming an odd shape. Then two black, nearly full ovals, with little cuts in them, appeared in the white. It was a face!
“Hiya!” The face greeted in a childish voice, though clearly accented. The shape got closer and as it stepped onto the rock with Hugo, the half-human saw a shape form.
The darkness of space took on legs, oddly shaped, along with a long tail, them a small body that was sorta shaped like a bean. Arms with clawed hands followed, and the face seemed to have more of a head shape to it, though clearly shaped like a strange crescent form. The blackness of the body was covered in what looked like stars, twinkling and flashing, a variety of colors.
“What?” The strange creature asked. “Ya not gonna greet me?”
Hugo frowned, gesturing to his throat and then opened his mouth before shaking his head, his skin flashing involuntarily.
“Ah, right,” The creature nodded, frowning, “ya guys in dis universe can’t talk in da vacuum of space. Hold on.”
He snapped his fingers, the snap actually made a sound, and a bubble surrounded the whole rock. Hugo let out a surprised laugh, before slapping a hand over his mouth, blinking. “W-what?”
“Just a li’l trick, super easy to do!” A grin formed on the other’s face. “It’s made outta natural gases dat drift around us, can’t just make it all, ya know, willy-nilly, but it’s super simple! So, what’s yours dat mine’s Bendy!”
Hugo had to take a moment to register what this guy, Bendy, has said. “It’s, uh, it’s Hugo.” He replied, coughing, trying to sound deeper than he naturally was.
“Hugo, huh?” Bendy grinned brightly. “Nice to meet’cha! So, whatcha doin’ out here in an asteroid belt? Not really a social spot fer ya... what are you?”
“I dunno.” Hugo shrugged. “Human and somethin’ else, I reckon. What exactly are you?”
“Demon!”
“Demon? You mean, like, those human monsters?”
Bendy snorted loudly at this. “Pah-lease! Nonononononono- weeeellll... yes? No? Maybe so! Hard to tell, I mean, demons an’ angels aren’t technically natural to dis dimension, but we exist! We’ve been to Earth! I’ve been there, a number of times, really nice, an’ kinda bad, but it’s got lots of fun stuff there! Ya ever been?”
Hugo shook his head. “No, never really been in that area of the galaxy. Been, uh, stuck in situations were I don’t get to pick where I go.”
The grin slipped on Bendy’s face, as if he was reading the situation and figured out what Hugo was referring to. “Ah, I getcha. Still, maybe you’ll get to see it! It’s pretty neat!” The grin returned and cosmic eyes glanced to the sketchbook resting next to Hugo. “Oh! Ya draw?”
There was a nod, and Bendy asked to see. Hugo let him and Bendy started to look at the sketches and drawings Hugo’s done over the past few months. He seemed rather excited and giddy about them, chatting and pointing out what he loved, or pointed out what was good but could use some improvement.
It was... kinda nice, Hugo thought as he sat there, listening to Bendy ramble on and on. He hadn’t really had anyone to talk to in ages, not since his escape from his previous life and being cabin boy on the Butcher Gang’s ship didn’t give him much respect from anyone onboard, so having a strange being this excited to talk to him was like a breath of fresh air.
“So, why are ya sittin’ on this floatin’ rock, Hugo?” Bendy asked after a while, when their conversation had turned into small talk and such.
“I got left behind for no good reason by the Butcher Gang, they’re the pirates I ‘work’ for.” Hugo stuck out his tongue, making a face. “They’re a bunch of lowlife bastards, is what they are! I bet I could be a better pirate than them any day!”
“You wanna be a pirate?”
“Yeah!” Hugo got to his feet, grinning. “I wanted to be a ranger when I was a kid, but I think a pirate would be cooler! Better! I can make a name for myself, I can rule the skies in my own ship! One day, I’ll have my name known across the galaxy! People will fear the name Hugo, no more lookin’ down on me and thinkin’ I’m just some freak or useless mutt!”
Bendy stared at him for a moment, quietly, and Hugo suddenly felt self conscious, before Bendy’s grin grew even bigger than it had before, nearly face splitting. His eyes sparkled with stars, brightly, it was so strange. “That... SOUNDS AMAZIN’! Can I join!? Can I be part of yer crew, Hugo!?”
Hugo was a bit caught off-guard by this. “You... you wanna be part of my crew? Why?”
“Cause dat sounds like so much fun! Look, I’m a drifter, I explore wherever I drift to, but dat gets so borin’ after so long! An’ bein’ a space pirate sounds like a blast! I’ll help you escape, an’ you an’ I can go on a bajillion adventures together!”
Bendy shoved his hand out at Hugo, smiling. “I’ll make yer dreams come true, Hugo. If ya want mah help.”
“...” Hugo looked at the offered hand. “What do you get outta this? No offense, but from what I know about demons, they like to make deals.”
“None taken.” Bendy shrugged, casually. “I getcha, not easy to trust a demon, we do have a rep fer deals an’ da like, kinda ruins it fer the honest demons like me. But listen, all I want outta this is a fun life! An’ I think yer just da guy to make dat happen.” He winked and Hugo chuckled.
“Alright, you’ve got a deal, Bendy!” Hugo took the offered hand with manic glee.
--
“Wait, you just... took the deal? Just like that?” Harrison asked, raising an eyebrow. “Did you not consider that it could have been a trick?”
“Honestly?” Hugo shrugged. “I considered that, yeah, but Bendy sounded honest, and somethin’ about him screamed ‘he’ll be the most important friend you’ll ever have’. And I was right.”
Hugo chuckled, rubbing at his right palm, where black mark was in his skin, like a tattoo. It was Bendy’s mark, meant for protection and connection. Harrison had asked about it, had asked how Hugo had even met Bendy, and the pirate decided to tell him.
“Do you regret it?” Harrison asked as he looked at the mark.
“Nope, never have, never will. Bendy and I are friends till the end.”
“I see... wait, how the heck did you two become father and son then?”
“Oh, see, now that’s a really funny story! So, when I was fifteen...”
--
It had been a slip from Bendy, by the way, he has accidentally called Hugo ‘dad’ and then it sorta just stuck around. Hugo has embraced the role of dad with his whole being, especially since he can get away with dad jokes now.
But yeah, here’s how these two met in this au!
Harrison is my friend inkspottie’s Henry, by the way.
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Major Buir (Plo Koon x reader)
{masterlist}
Words: 3.7k
Warnings: Unedited, Plo Koon trying to flirt but not quite understanding how to make the swoon, Wolffe being the embarrassed son, potential second hand embarrassment for the reader because I think that Plo is very sweet but is not well versed in the art of flirting. Clones being dumb and cute. Angry Wolffe, potential fluff overload-I got a little carried away.
Notes: Yeeee it’s my first time writing for Plo-would it be wrong to tag?...I’m gonna do it. @a-dorin , I would like to thank you for inspiring me to write this. I find myself steadily becoming a Plo simp and your fics have only accelerated my downward spiral.
Also, this was only supposed to be about 1.5k words...woops
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“From this, we can conclude that the remnants of the Ehterium cluster supernova would provide a suitable route around this Separatist controlled rat’s nest.” You sniffed carefully and lowered the pointer to tap against the ground but it landed on your foot. Swiftly, you moved it again so it actually tapped against the durasteel floor of the briefing room. A few chuckles slipped from the gathered cloned men and Jedi generals currently scanning over your notes on the holomap that had witnessed the little slip-up. “Though I can understand the hesitance-which is why I have also taken the liberty of charting a different course around the cluster entirely. It would take much longer though and would put you in more danger in the long run as you’d be exposed and out of range for too...long.” You trailed off, suddenly self-conscious of the overuse of the word ‘long’. Even though you’d worked for the GAR since the start of the clone wars (and technically before that if you counted all the academy training) you’d never gotten the hang of the ‘intimidating analytics and tactician officer’ schtick despite trying. You were often compared to a little mouse in the academy-even when you were wielding a blaster. But that hardly mattered when you were one of the top tacticians in the army and the Jedi were very kind to you. Especially General Plo Koon. He was incredibly patient with you as you adjusted to life with the 104th after being transferred from the 205th and he gave off this very warm and loving vibe.
And thankfully your new general was among the Jedi present-calmly looking at you with hands clasped behind his back, respectfully silent as the other masters muttered over the maps you’d provided. You met his eyes uncertainly. While it wasn’t like this was your first time pitching a new tactic to a general it was the first time you’d ever pitched an idea to so many people (eight, to be exact) that were so high ranking. The room was currently occupied by yourself, Depa Billaba, Obi Wan Kenobi, Cody, Anakin, Ahsoka, Rex, Commander Wolffe, and Plo Koon and while none of them were ever rude to you it was hard to not be intimidated. You weren’t the one that had to go through with this plan-they did. They were the ones in danger. Sure, you could lose your job but they could lose their lives. So, you looked to Plo Koon as he would be sure to tell you what he thought.
Perhaps he was so open with you because he could read you better than anyone else? He always knew what you were thinking and knew exactly what to say to help you. If you were honest, it was no wonder why you two were fast friends. And it wasn’t a surprise when you realized that certain feelings had crept up on you. Although you had resigned yourself to never act on them for both of your sakes there was no helping the admiration that prompted you to value the Kel Dor’s opinion over anyone else’s. And just like so many times before, it seemed like Plo knew this for he offered a single nod to you when your eyes met. The tension fled from your shoulders instantly as a silent sigh of relief slipped from you. Plo Koon approved. You had done good. He knew how hard you had worked on the new plans and could cite several instances where he had stumbled upon you slumped over your desk as the testimony to your dedication. Each time the Kel Dor quietly lifted you to your feet and encouraged you to leave the work for the next day as he escorted you back to your quarters. Once the two of you got there, he’d always, always place a secure hand on your shoulder with a squeeze that just barely made his talons dig into your greys as he bid you goodnight before sweeping away with one last order to get some sleep tossed over his shoulder. It was similar small gestures like those that gave you hope that were your situations different-he being a normal citizen like you and not a Jedi with no trace of war-that maybe something could happen. But alas…
“I must say, Major, I do believe you’ve outdone yourself.” Kenobi was the first among the Jedi to speak with one hand clasping his chin and the other clasping his elbow in typical Obi Wan fashion as he scanned over the details once more.
You dipped your head with a carefully practiced, “thank you, General” as your immediate reply though deep inside, your pride swelled. This was possibly your most ambitious plan yet and one that had presented significant challenges. While you were a good tactician, your strong suits lie in terrestrial combat and not space. It felt great to be validated.
“Yes but…” Depa Billaba began with her arms dutifully crossed over her chest as she scrutinized further, “what are we to do about this asteroid field that cuts through our path?” The Jedi asked calmly and you brightened at the mention of it because you had banged your head against it every which way. The asteroid field was the one thing you couldn’t accurately account for as the data you had received on it initially had been outdated. And you explained as much to her.
“However, I am happy to tell you that I may have found a way to...acount for this hazard.” You cleared your throat and leaned over the console to zoom in on the area in question. “This asteroid field is large, messy, and problematic, and had you asked me how to avoid it earlier I wouldn’t have had an answer. But, I think that the best course of action is to separate-to make it look as though the three of you-” you pointed to the generals you were specifying, “are escorting Depa Billaba till she comes in range with the nearby medical station. That way if any Separatists follow you, you can still maintain the element of surprise because I know that if we can make General Billaba’s starship appear vulnerable that they will go for it. Worst case scenario, you dust off the guns a little preemptively. Best case-” again, you clicked another button that revealed a dotted red path through the holo projection, “you can use the asteroids as extra cover while you navigate through this path.” You paused a moment, eyes shifting to gauge the reactions of everyone. From across the table, your eyes met with Commander Wolffe’s who raised an eyebrow at you. “Clone intelligence has informed me that this path might be outdated as well but we will be active on the comms to offer guidance through the field as you go.” Commander Wolffe gave a firm nod and, again, the Jedi and clones retreated inwards to try and think of any situations that they would need to be prepared for. In the weighted silence that followed, you were keenly aware of Plo Koon drawing closer to you as he methodically circled the console before you. His hands remained clasped behind his back the entire time and you couldn’t help but watch him as he approached.
He came to a stop right next to you-close enough for your arms to brush and for his warmth to seep through the fabric of your greys. Plo Koon remained quiet for a little longer, leaving you more time to fight the instinct that told you to lean closer to him before he moved his arms. His taloned hand brushed the back of your own and his vambrace bumped your forearm as he brought his arms up to cross over his torso. You couldn’t help but dwell on the feeling of even that minuscule contact which almost caused you to miss the compliment he paid your way.
“Uh...th-thank you, General.” You coughed into your fist in a not so subtle way to correct your stutter. “But really, my plan is only good because my data was good. You should really thank your men that got me the information.”
The Kel Dor made a huffing sound that would have sounded like a laugh if not for the heavy overlay from his mask. “Believe me, Major, I will but you do deserve some of the credit.” He stressed, even going so far as to grasp your shoulder very briefly. You could still feel the imprint of his touch when he moved his hand away.
“Anakin, you’re being unusually quiet.” Obi Wan saved you from further implosion as he addressed his former padawan. You and Plo Koon both turned your attention back to the other occupants in the room and you were unsettled to find General Skywalker’s eyebrows furrowed in scrutiny as he glanced between you and the Jedi Master. Perhaps more alarming though was Wolffe’s face. He was staring at Plo Koon with what you could only describe as a bug-eyed look.
“Just thinking, master.” Skywalker eventually answered. Your jaw tensed in uncertainty though the younger man said nothing more regarding the visual dissection of your interaction.
The meeting continued for a few more minutes with you working to finalize the more minute details and to take measures to establish backup plans that would most likely be abandoned by the Jedi at the first sign of conflict and the Jedi began to disperse with their own CO’s. Eventually, that left just you, Wolffe, and Plo Koon. At the first sign that the meeting was adjourned, you began to pack your things up and to log off the computers but instead of leaving you to your own devices like you thought he would, Plo Koon remained with you. He casually waited at the console you had left him at with his hands clasped before his diaphragm, a common gesture for him you’d noticed, while Wolffe awkwardly hovered near the door.
“Was there anything else you needed, General?” You asked, glancing over your shoulder at the Kel Dor. He stood up straight and approached with light footsteps.
“Not particularly, Major, but I would like to congratulate you once again on another excellently thought out plan.” Plo Koon’s voice was as calm as it ever was but there was something there-a slight lilt you weren’t familiar with or maybe it was better described as a squeak? Slowly spinning on your heel, you turned to face him.
“Well,...thank you, General. It...It’s my job.” A part of you swore at your inability to take a compliment properly while the other parts were all focused on Plo Koon. Sure, he’d complimented you on your plans before (he did during the meeting) but he had always reserved the more serious praise for after the missions and the debriefings. He’d never stayed after the preliminary meetings.
“If you don’t mind, I’d prefer if you called me Plo Koon-it feels far too impersonal to be addressed as ‘general’ outside of meetings.” The Kel Dor explained with a raised hand to stop you from saying anything else till he had said his piece.
You blinked. Once. Twice. Before eventually sliding your gaze over to Wolffe who had a hand clasped over his eyes. That gesture only added kindling to the confused fire as you returned to the man in front of you. There didn’t seem to be anything amiss-his mask looked in place and to your knowledge, he hadn’t been in the medbay recently. “As...whatever you wish...Plo.” You swallowed, his name-something you’d said in your head thousands of times before-felt foreign on your tongue. “You can of course call me ‘Y/n’...then.” You offered uncertainly.
“Of course,” he echoed with a nod. “I’ve always thought your name fitting.”
“Thank you…?” You asked uncertainly.
“I just mean that it is a strong name and you bear it well.”
“...” Again, you couldn’t help but look over at Wolffe who had taken his face in his hands in what could only be described as a picture of absolute mortification. His helmet was awkwardly squished into his chest as he shook his head from side to side, lips moving as he formed words you couldn’t hear from where you stood. “I...uh...I like your name too, Plo. It’s gentle…?” You tried as you returned your attention to the Kel Dor and raised one shoulder in a half-shrug.
He brightened, back straightening up as he continued to regard you. “Thank you, I’m rather fond of it myself.” A silence fell over the two of you-horribly tense and laced with an awkward air you had no way of dissipating anytime soon. Averting your eyes from the Jedi, you rolled your lips in and bit them as you fished for something else to say.
“Is...are you sure there wasn’t anything you needed, General?” You finally asked after shifting on your feet for the third time.
Plo Koon shook his head, less in a form of denial and more like he was trying to shake himself out of a stupor before answering. “I’m positive but while we’re on the subject of names I feel it is important for me to inform you of the new one circulating amongst my men.”
You raised your eyebrow at the Jedi, not missing the way Wolffe froze entirely. “A new name for me or…?”
“For you.” Plo nodded. “It seems as though they’ve taken a liking to calling you ‘Major Buir’.” There was something in his voice that told you he was smiling (or the Kel Dor equivalent of smiling) beneath his anti-ox mask.
“Buir?” You questioned as your mind raced to dig up a definition for the Mando’a word you’d heard assigned to the Jedi on multiple occasions. “As in what the Wolfpack calls you?”
“Indeed. Are you familiar with Mando’a?”
“After fighting alongside the clones?-of course, but I’m afraid most of the terms I know relate to fighting, tactics, or swearing.” You explained promptly with a glance to Wolffe at the mention of his language-the clone in question looked frozen in his spot and it seemed like he was no longer alone as you could swear you saw the familiar red hair of Boost and the silver of Sinker ducking behind the doorway.
Plo Koon suddenly leaned forward, getting closer to your height as his voice dropped to just above a whisper. “Buir is Mando’a for ‘parent’, Y/n.” Immediately, it felt as though someone had locked you in carbonite-your heart was still warm as it surged with affection for the men of the 104th yet at the same time your body felt the familiar frozen tingle that so often accompanied the sensation of treading through uncharted territory. You were keenly aware of Plo Koon’s proximity and the way your heart sped as a result. In an attempt to combat this you took a deep breath to steady yourself and regain control over your vocal chords. But that was a mistake as Plo’s natural scent infiltrated your senses. He smelled of leather and fresh air, of tea tree and some other piquant scent you couldn’t name that you knew was the remnant of one of the contraband candles he had hidden aboard the ship. It was so him-something the standard issue GAR soap couldn’t hide-that it overwhelmed you in an instant and you found yourself leaning closer. He, a flame, and you, a moth.
Your lips parted slightly as your face relaxed and you swore that you’d never felt calmer. It felt like someone was wrapping you in a hug; you felt safe, wanted, and adored. “But...if they call you that and are now calling me that…” you began through the sudden dwam your mind floated in. The pieces were starting to fall into place. “Then...General Plo Koon,” your voice suddenly became firm as you forced yourself to step back, “Are you trying to flirt with me?”
Plo Koon straightened up, his hands finding their usual resting place crossed in front of his stomach. “I am. Was it not obvious?” He asked, his held tilting to the left just slightly.
You briefly thought back to the somewhat strange string of compliments he’d paid you that lead up to this. “Uh...no, not really.” You explained quickly, eyes now flickering around the room in an attempt to come up with a reply to this revelation.
“Hmm.” Plo Koon hummed. “My apologies then. Boost encouraged me to be forward-perhaps it was not enough?” You blinked up at him, gaping like a fish-if that was Plo being forward then you wouldn’t have stood a chance if he had taken a subtle route.
Before you could say anything though, Wolffe’s explosive voice cut through the briefing room as he rounded on Boost. “You told him to do what?!” The commander barked at his red-headed brother who had long since abandoned hiding behind the doorway and was now standing tall with his chest slightly puffed.
“Oh come on, Vod, we both know the General likes ‘em! And Major Buir wasn’t going to pick up on it anytime soon. I was just trying to help!” He huffed back, practically getting in Wolffe’s face.
“Meddling isn’t helping, Boost!”
“I dunno-seemed pretty effective, Commander.” Sinker chimed in.
Wolffe wheeled on him next. “Don’t tell me you were in on this too!” The one-eyed clone seethed. “If you weren’t my brother I’d-”
“Boys!” You snapped, having heard enough. The three brothers stopped immediately and turned to you; each one bore a similarly sheepish grin. With a shake of your head, you turned back to Plo who had watched on in amusement. “Plo, I’m flattered but...what about your code? I know attachments are dangerous and I wouldn’t want to be the reason you-”
The Jedi master raised a hand. “My dear, attachments aren’t dangerous. It is how they can be used against a Jedi that is.”
“I don’t follow.” You tried only for Plo to shake his head.
“Yes, you do.” The Kel Dor dropped to your height again. “Y/n, if attachments themselves were dangerous Jedi would also be forbidden from being compassionate.” You were stricken silent, painfully aware of the three pairs of eyes currently fixated on the two of you. “But even if they were, I’d still find you worth the risk.” Your heart melted, a soft ‘Plo’ slipping past your lips that made the Kel Dor incline his head. “I know you care for me too, Y/n, so...are you willing to be with me?”
You bit your lip in thought, a smile creeping across your face as you looked up at the Jedi. “I’m guessing there’s no talking you out of this?”
“You may try but my feelings will persist.” Plo countered immediately-a lightness to his voice you hadn’t heard before.
You chuckled briefly and let your gaze slide over to the three clones now curiously peering at the two of you. You took in their identical faces and the imploring looks each one was giving you. When had the Wolfpack wormed their way into your heart? Probably around the same time their general did. You turned back to Plo Koon. “I say...of course,” You smiled and slipped onto your toes to wrap your arms around the Kel Dor’s neck. He returned the embrace with a low hum, his arms slipping around your waist, “ner Jetti.” You could hear whooping and hollering from the entrance to the briefing room.
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The barracks were dark and crowded later that night-many of the men from the 104th had all crammed into one room to watch the holofilm you’d smuggled onto the starship. It had been about three weeks since the fateful meeting that led to the union of you and General Plo Koon and each day had brought a new development in your aliit as word of your relationship spread. For the most part, none of the men were surprised-some even commenting on how Plo Koon was apparently unable to tear his eyes off of you during meetings, holocalls, or your brief but frequent trips to the base on Coruscant. But there were a few who weren’t expecting it at all.
But everyone you’d told had been supportive. And now as you sat curled into Plo Koon’s side with clones draped all around you as most dozed off in the peaceful barracks you could safely say that you’d found where you belong.
A tug on your arm pulled you away from the nearly impossible to hear holofilm (the few soldiers that were still awake had turned the volume down so they could let their brothers sleep) and to the clone currently barely awake with his head on your lap. “What is it, Boost?” You asked in a whisper, keenly aware of the sleeping Sinker and Wolffe on Plo’s other side. Still, your voice managed to catch the Jedi’s attention as he turned his head towards the two you.
The red head stared up at you blearily, a yawn interrupting him before he began speaking. “I just wanted to say that I’m happy you and general buir are together now. And that I’m glad I could help.”
A breathy laugh escaped you that Plo helped quiet with a hand over your mouth. He dipped his head to gesture at Wolffe who grumbled and curled closer to Sinker in his sleep. In retaliation, you batted his hand away and rolled your eyes at the Kel Dor before looking back at the sleepy man. “I am too, Boost. Thank you.” You answered fondly, letting your head fall against Plo’s shoulder.
“Like I said-” he cut off to yawn, “happy to help...major...buir.” Boost trailed off as his eyes closed and he wormed his way closer to you.
You smiled. “Thank you, ner ad’ika.” As Boost officially fell victim to dream land you turned towards Plo who had watched the exchange carefully. The same feeling of being hugged, of being safe, wanted, and loved infiltrated your senses but you now recognized it as Plo’s signature. Still bearing that soft painted smile, you pressed your forehead to his. A final whisper of thank you slipped from you as you resigned yourself to stay in that moment forever.
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swoon june day 1: meet-cute
a kanera flower shop au
rating: general; kanan jarrus/hera syndulla; 3.1k words
---
“Morning,” Kanan called as the cantina door slid shut behind him. He didn’t wait for a response, making a beeline for the caf machine which sat behind the counter.
The dining area was empty, with the lights only flickering to life as he entered and the chairs stacked upside-down on the tables from the night before. The place was shabby but clean, and with what little of the late morning sun that made it through the windows glinting off the glassware behind the bar, it could even be described as respectable.
Kanan knew he was a few minutes late, but it was a mark of his respect for his employer that he hadn't pushed it later still by stopping to get caf on his way in. Now, however, he needed his caffeine fix before he could start getting the cantina ready for the lunchtime shift.
“There you are!” Okadiah called out as he emerged from the kitchen, a dish towel in one hand and a glass in the other. “Don’t bother taking your coat off, I need you to go back out and pick up the flowers.”
Kanan already had one hand on the command terminal of the caf machine, but he paused to look at the white-haired man. “Flowers?”
“It’s Father’s Day, lad, we’ve got to have flowers!” Okadiah said it like it was obvious. “Only a degenerate doesn't take their dad out for Father's Day, and if we want to attract people in here we've got to look the part!”
Kanan gave him a bemused look. In his opinion, there were several things wrong with that statement, but he stuck to the most pressing. “Where am I supposed to get flowers from?”
“From the shop you walk past twice a day.” He spoke slowly, as if to someone very dim. “It’s just around the corner, with the big green sign. I’ve already placed an order, and all you have to do is collect it.”
“...If I walk past it every day, I feel like I would have seen it.” Maybe it was the lack of caf, but none of this was making very much sense to him right now.
“It’s there,” Okadiah assured him. “Now go! You’ll be putting the fancy tablecloths out when you get back, and I won’t be opening late just because you dragged your feet.”
Kanan groaned and rolled his eyes at Okadiah. He allowed himself to be ushered back to the door he’d just entered through and with a final longing look at the caf machine, he departed.
He retraced his steps and around the corner, right where the old man had said it would be, was the flower shop. A hand-painted sign above the entrance of white lettering on a green background proclaimed it to be “Numa’s Blooms” in cursive aurabesh. As Kanan stepped through the automatic door, the first thing he noticed was the overwhelmingly floral scent to the air.
The second was the voice.
The inside of the shop was packed with every leaf and bloom imaginable, creating a gorgeous display that pleased the eyes and the nose alike. Behind the counter, just visible amongst the foliage, was a teal-skinned twi’lek woman who’s attention was directed towards the back of the shop. That was where the voice was coming from.
“...lilies, tulips, freesias, lisianthus, chrysanthemums, roses.” It was a woman’s voice, and it had an almost musical quality to it. “All here, but the roses are a slightly darker shade of blue than the rest.”
Kanan found himself peering through the foliage towards the source, hoping to catch a glimpse of the person whose face must surely look as divine as she sounded. The woman behind the counter – Numa herself, according to her name badge – glanced over to him as he entered.
“Just log it in our feedback, we can chase it later,” she called over her shoulder. Her voice sounded mundane in comparison, though it had a distinctly Rylothian accent.
“How can I help you?” she directed at Kanan. She seemed as tired as if she'd already worked a full day, even though it wasn't yet noon.
“Uh...” It took him a second to remember exactly what he’d come here for. “I’m here to pick up the order for The Asteroid Belt – or Okadiah Garson... He didn’t tell me what name it’s under.”
Numa raised one eyebrow at him before consulting the clipboard in her hand. “That’s the cantina around the corner, right? Yes, Okadiah booked a delivery slot with his order. It’ll be with you in about twenty minutes, my colleague’s preparing the hovertruck now and you’re first on the manifest.”
“Great,” he said in a flat voice. He could've been enjoying his morning caf right now, but the old man just had to send him on a wild nuna chase instead. Now he would have to wait until the tables were set up and the bar opened.
He trudged back to The Asteroid Belt, and the next twenty minutes were exactly as rushed as he'd predicted. The only saving grace was that Okadiah opened the bar for him, but given that he'd been late to start with, it didn't save much time.
When the dining area was ready, he eagerly ducked behind the counter to make himself his precious cup of caf.
“Did you do the tables in the back room too?” Okadiah yelled from the kitchen.
“No. We never use them!” Kanan called back.
“We’re going to be packed today, lad!”
“Are you sure?”
“It’s Father’s Day! Only a degenerate doesn’t take their dad out for Father’s Day!”
“All right, all right.” Kanan rolled his eyes, even though the old man couldn't see, and prepared to set the back room up in record time.
He heard a vehicle pulling up at the service entrance just as Okadiah shouted again.
“Scratch that, forget the back room, that should be our flowers!”
Kanan spun on his heels and made his way into the kitchen.
“Make sure there are some on every table,” Okadiah continued, “and if there are extras, put them by the windows and the front door. We want to make sure everyone wants to come here-”
“Since only a degenerate doesn’t take their dad out for Father’s Day,” Kanan finished with another roll of his eyes and a wry smile before opening the back door. His expression froze on his face as he took in who was outside.
The most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
With the most disgusted look on her face.
---
Hera carefully steered the hovertruck into the narrow alley. It was a tight fit, but nothing she couldn’t handle, and she was certain the delivery instructions said that this was the place.
She fidgeted in her jacket. Numa had told her to wear it as it was part of her uniform, but after helping Gobi to load the truck and with the sun streaming through the windshield it was far too warm. She unzipped it, able to hold the truck steady with one hand as she did so.
A faded, peeling sign indicated the back entrance to The Asteroid Belt. Hera pulled the truck a little beyond the door – the alley was no wider up here, so she’d need to get the rear hatch of the truck next to the delivery point and then reverse back out again when she was done unloading.
Fortunately, there was just enough space for her to squeeze down the side to get there without brushing the alley wall too much. She opened up the truck and hefted the first bucket of flowers out.
“...only a degenerate doesn’t take their dad out for Father’s Day.” The voice was muffled, coming through the door to the cantina, but clear enough to her twi’lek ears. Her lips curled into a grimace of their own accord. She hated Father’s Day, and all of the pomp and obligation that came with it.
Before she could smooth her face back into something more appropriate for paying customers, the door opened. She found herself face-to-face with one of the cantina workers, a human man with an annoying half-smirk on his face. She guessed he’d been the one disparaging unwilling children of absent fathers like herself.
Still, he was a customer, and Numa would never forgive her if she lost the shop a reliable source of income like this cantina.
“Delivery from Numa’s Blooms,” she said brightly, pasting a fake smile on her face to match her best customer service voice.
The man simply stared at her.
“...You do want these flowers, right?”
“Yes! Right. Uh, just in here.” He gestured to an empty countertop just inside the door and stepped aside so that she could place the first bucket on it.
When she walked back to the truck without another word, he followed.
“Sorry about all this,” he said, waving a hand at the alley in general as he seemed to recover from whatever had tongue-tied him at the door. “Not the nicest of delivery locations, I know. But hey, you’re at the best bar in the district.” He shot her a smile that was clearly supposed to be winning.
“Right.” she said flatly. So he was going to be chatty. Great.
She couldn’t deal with both him and the heat, so she opted to remove her jacket completely and toss it into the back of the truck. As she grabbed the next bucket, he took another that was marked with the name of the cantina and continued talking.
“Guess you’re pretty busy today, huh? I know not everyone celebrates it, but there must be enough who do to give a shop like yours plenty of work.”
“Sure.”
And I know exactly what you think of those of us who try not to celebrate, she thought to herself. Did he not realise that Hera had heard what he said? Humans always forgot that twi’leks had better hearing than them; perhaps it was because they covered their ears. They set the buckets down and went back for more.
“Still, at least we have labour laws that mean we get the evening off!”
Yes, the enforced shorter working day meant to give employees time to spend with their families. Hera had begged Numa to let her work her normal shift, but the other woman refused to break the law, even if Hera was asking her for it. All she had been able to do was to find an odd job one of her customers needed; Hera didn’t have all of the details yet, but it was some kind of shuttle bus repair that would be unpaid. Hera was just grateful for the excuse to not see her father.
“I’m Kanan, by the way.”
He really wasn’t getting the hint. She set the final bucket down on the counter and turned to him.
“Well, Kanan, that’s the last of your delivery. I’ve got to get to my next drop, but you have a nice Father’s Day.”
She gave him another fake smile before ducking back out of the door to close the truck.
“You too!” He called as she slid back through the narrow gap to the driver’s door.
She climbed in and started the engine. Relief washed over her at finally being done, though it was tinged with apprehension – the rest of her shift was all too likely to be more of the same.
Look on the bright side, Hera, she thought to herself. At least you don’t have to talk to that Kanan guy again.
---
Kanan couldn’t help but admire the woman’s driving as she reversed her hovertruck back down the alley. It was barely wide enough for the truck, mere inches on either side, but she never once came close to scraping the walls. He didn’t know anyone who could drive with such precision and control.
He’d been ecstatic when she’d first shown up. Not only gorgeous, but also the owner of the voice he’d heard in the shop. He’d tried desperately to engage her in conversation, hoping to hear her speak more than single words. Unfortunately, she hadn’t seemed too enamoured with him. He wasn’t sure if she’d been having a rough day or if it was something about him (more likely her day, as his previous experience with women suggested it was not the latter) but she’d made it pretty clear she hadn’t been interested in talking. It was disappointing, but he’d taken the hint and stopped short of asking if she had a free evening in her near future.
Still, he would’ve liked to at least have gotten her name.
He shut the back door and turned to the buckets of flowers that now crowded this end of the kitchen. Fifteen minutes to go until they opened. He felt his shoulders sag at the thought of how much work was ahead of him, with no time for caf in sight.
He went to grab a bucket at random to start laying the flowers out, but something caught his eye. Snagged on one of the thicker stalks was a piece of clothing – a jacket, he realised, very like the one Numa had been wearing when he’d been in the shop this morning. In fact...
He picked it up and held it out in front of him. The delivery driver had taken hers off shortly after arriving and tossed it into the truck – it must have caught on the flowers and he hadn’t noticed it when he brought it in.
He brightened – maybe this would give him another chance to see her again. Even better, like Numa’s, it had a name badge pinned to the front.
HERA.
He didn’t find himself missing his morning caf again as he finished getting The Asteroid Belt ready to open. There was a spring in his step as he served the customers who came through the door, and Okadiah was right, there were a lot more than their usual intake.
The shift finally came to an end, and though Kanan was tired, he hadn’t lost the spark of energy that the thought of seeing Hera again had given him. As soon as the last customer was out of the door, he raced back to the kitchen to grab the jacket he’d left by the back door.
“Just got an errand to run, Oke, I’ll be back to close up in ten minutes!” he called, not waiting for an answer before rushing out.
Numa was behind the counter again back at the flower shop,
“Hey! Is Hera around?”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Who’s asking?”
“It’s Kanan, from The Asteroid Belt. She left her jacket behind, I just wanted to give it back to her.”
“Kanan from The Asteroid Belt?” Numa repeated. “No, she’s not in, in fact she just left. But I’ll take her jacket and give it to her next time she has a shift.” Numa held out a hand, and her expression left no room for bargaining.
Kanan felt his face fall in disappointment. He’d hoped that by coming as soon as he could he’d catch her before she finished working, but apparently he hadn’t been fast enough. He passed the jacket over the counter.
“Thank you for returning it,” Numa said, clearly dismissing him. “Have a nice evening off.”
Kanan appreciated the sentiment, but he knew that his evening would be neither nice nor off. Okadiah had apparently finally found someone to repair his hoverbus, and Kanan had offered to stick around late to let whoever it was into the hangar where it was parked.
The bus was Okadiah’s latest idea to grow the cantina’s list of regulars; he wanted to use it to shuttle workers from the industrial estate on the other side of town to this district, where a good number of them lived. Conveniently, the bus would stop right outside of The Asteroid Belt. Kanan thought it was a pretty good idea, but only if the old man could actually get the bus to run.
He returned to the cantina to find Okadiah hadn’t even noticed he’d gone, and closed up without any problems. He couldn’t quite bring himself to throw out the flowers, so he refilled the buckets with fresh water and stood them along the bar as decorations.
Once the dining area was once again stacked and clean – there would be no dinner shift today – Kanan retrieved his day’s pay from Okadiah and headed to the hangar, leaving the proprietor to lock up.
Waiting outside the hangar door was the last person he’d expected to see.
“Hera?”
She didn’t seem surprised he knew her name. Her face was a mask as she watched him walk closer, her only acknowledgement of him a single raised eyebrow as he brought out Okadiah’s key card.
“I guess I’m here to fix your hoverbus,” she said with absolutely zero enthusiasm.
“I guess so,” he replied cautiously, unlocking the door. “You, uh, left your jacket behind earlier. I dropped it back with Numa.”
“I heard. So what happened to 'only a degenerate doesn’t take their dad out for Father’s Day'?"
He couldn’t resist the opening. "Perhaps I'm a degenerate," he said with a swagger and a wink. She gave him a flat look and turned away to walk through the door.
He followed her into the hangar, where the automatic lights slowly blinked on to reveal the old, battered, third-or-possibly-fourth-hand hoverbus.
"I also don't have a father," he said in a much softer voice. He wasn’t sure what had prompted him to share that, but the words were out now.
She stopped her inspection of the bus to turn to him.
"Oh - I'm sorry."
He shrugged. "Don't worry about it. It’s why I was free for this job tonight.”
She looked awkward, and something made him keep going.
“My parents died when I was a baby, so I don't even remember them. Okadiah’s the one who’s obsessed with that stuff, but I hadn’t had enough caf this morning to argue with him about it."
“So what you said–”
“Yeah, I don’t actually believe that.” He reached up to rub at his neck. “In fact, I kinda dread days like these. They just remind me of what I don’t have.”
“...I feel the same.” Her voice was quiet.
“Yeah?”
“I lost my mother when I was younger, and my father… Wasn’t his best after that. It was hard.”
Silence stretched between them for a moment, heavy and serious.
“Hey,” he offered lightheartedly. “Who needs parents when you’ve got a broken down hoverbus for entertainment?”
He felt a jolt of triumph as she gave him a small smile.
“Can’t complain about the company, either.”
“No?”
Her smile grew. “Well, the first impression was terrible. But given a second chance… You’re not bad.”
“‘Not bad’,” he repeated. “I’ll take that.”
She laughed, somehow an even more beautiful sound than her voice, and Kanan decided he’d do whatever he could to make her laugh like that again.
#kanera#kanan jarrus#hera syndulla#star wars rebels#swoonjune2021#swoon june#star wars#star wars: rebels#fic#pretchwritta#flower shop au#remember how i said i was going to keep it to 500 words a day#yeah that's starting off so great#now to make tomorrow's rebels appreciation post...
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