#also i think i got the general tree species correct but if not let me know lol. im not as good as identifying trees..
Photo
hi ive been wanting to post these photos for like 2 or 3 months bc i cant believe i caught it on camera! cardinal got cowbirded...
[Image ID: Two close up photos of two birds on a dogwood tree branch. The bird on the left is a juvenile cowbird, which is a greyish brown colour. The bird on the right is an adult male northern cardinal, which has a red coloured body with a black circle around the eyes and beak. Both photos have a white, translucent watermark in the bottom left corner, which reads ‘xrinsu 2022′. In the first photo, the northern cardinal is stretched left toward the juvenile cowbird, and has his beak in the cowbirds open beak. In the second photo, the juvenile cowbird still has their beak open and looking toward the cardinal; the cardinal is standing upright and is looking upwards, over the cowbird. End ID]
#bird#birds#northern cardinal#cowbird#photography#my art#nature#cries i had to retype this all bc i accidentally clicked out of the post!!#but anyways. still cant believe i got this on camera! so cool#i took these like. end of may start of june. i have many more pictures i wanted uploaded before this but adhd said eh no.#also i think i got the general tree species correct but if not let me know lol. im not as good as identifying trees..#also this image id was more difficult- if it needs editing also let me know#still new to adding image ids to my art.
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Google Bard supports Chinese! Pass level 10, understand the memes, and get started for free.
Two days ago, Claude, ChatGPT’s strongest competitor, was upgraded to the second generation, and Google is not far behind.
Today, the latest version of Bard is here, allowing you to add images to prompts, customize responses, and add support for 40 languages.
It is worth mentioning that Bard can also support Chinese!
Even Musk said it was interesting.
Without further ado, let’s get started and experience it.
1. First-hand experience record
Let’s start with a Chinese Level HE Tuber 10 test question, “Winter: Wear as much as you can wear; Summer: Wear as much as you can. What’s the difference between these two sentences?”
Not to mention, Bard’s Chinese understanding ability is really good.
In addition to the above reply, you have 2 other alternative drafts, and you can even change it again.
Choosing Draft 3, Bard’s reply seemed more humane. Not only did he answer the question, but he also gave some dressing rules for winter and summer.
Here’s another one, a Chinese question that makes even foreigners cry. Bard is very familiar with it.
The kid's brain teasers stumped Bard. I still haven’t really understood the essence of this Chinese language. (Correct answer: fool)
Families, have you heard that aspartame may cause cancer?
Our most common daily foods, including drinks, especially happy water, contain this element.
What advice can Bard give us on food?
How to make Couple's Fei Tablets? Bard did not fall into the trap and directly presented this Sichuan cuisine recipe.
Compared with ChatGPT, how would Bard evaluate his Chinese ability?
Bard's reply is very neutral and objective. Each has its own advantages. It's hard to say who is better.
I was playing idiom solitaire with Bard again, but to my surprise, he got the better of me first.
I just wanted to praise it for its good connection, but it overturned in the next round.
Musk yesterday established xAI, a company that will decipher the ultimate answer to the universe. What do you think of Bard?
Unexpectedly, Bard actually got the wrong founder of the company, including Greg Brockman.
At the Google I/O conference, it was announced that Bard supports input images, and now this feature is finally here.
The editor tried it out. However, currently only English Q&A is supported.
Is it a duck or a rabbit?
Bard did not immediately answer the trap we threw to it, but explained that this picture is a classic example of the "duck-rabbit illusion."
This painting can be seen as a duck or as a rabbit. It depends on how you look at the painting, and how your brain interprets the lines in the painting.
Bard then responded to our questions: In this picture, he saw a duck, but he also expressed his understanding of seeing a rabbit. Because the lines that form the rabbit's ears can also be seen as the duck's beak, and the lines that form the rabbit's body can also be seen as the duck's neck.
At the end, Bard explains to us that this "duck-rabbit illusion" is an interesting example of how our brains work, reminding us that what we see as the thing actually looks is not necessarily "real and completely correct", but Formed through our understanding and understanding of things.
Bard's answer can be said to be very complete, and the editor decided to give it 100 points!
What is this panda doing?
Bard didn't understand the appearance of this Kung Fu Panda, but it made sense when analyzed from another angle.
The panda in the picture is sitting on a branch. It was probably resting, temporarily stopping from eating bamboo, their main food source. Pandas are famous for their love of bamboo, which they can spend up to 14 hours a day eating.
The panda in the picture is still looking around, perhaps looking for potential predators. Pandas are an endangered species and are still hunted by humans in some parts of the world.
Overall, the panda in the picture is just enjoying a peaceful moment in the tree. It reminds us of the beauty and resilience of these amazing creatures.
Can you understand this picture? What’s the point of the joke?
Bard also didn't mention the image of "Ultraman" in his reply.
The picture you sent is interesting because it shows a man wearing glasses and a red Frisbee hat. Frisbee hats are a very unusual headgear, especially interesting when paired with a man's glasses. The man's expression also adds to the humor, as he seems unaware of how ridiculous he looks.
Here are some specific reasons why people might find this image interesting:
– The incongruity between a Frisbee hat and a man’s head
– The man’s unconcerned expression
– The man wears glasses, making the frisbee hat look even more ridiculous
Ultimately, whether you find this image interesting or not is a personal matter. However, I think most people would agree that it's at least somewhat humorous.
Another example is asking it, is this a fish?
Even though it was placed on the chopping board, Bard could clearly see that it was a pencil case!
No, the picture you sent is not of a fish. It's a pencil case. The image shows a realistic-looking fish on a wooden cutting board. However, the fish is actually made of fabric or plastic and has a zipper on top. This indicates that it is a pencil case and not an actual fish.
This pencil case was probably meant to look like a fish, as it was a popular design for children's pencil cases. Fish is also a symbol of good luck in many cultures, so it may be considered a good luck charm for students.
Or you can ask what breed of dog this is.
2. List of Bard functions
Official news about the updated version of Bard is here!
I heard that the features of this Bard update mainly include these three sections:
Language and region expansion, personalized response, and work efficiency improvement.
Hmm...is it really that good? Then let us take a look at the specific updates of Bard!
As a global artificial intelligence service, Bard aims to assist humans in exploring various possibilities. The current version can already support most languages used on the Internet.
In this update, more than 40 new languages are supported by Bard, including Arabic, Chinese (Simplified/Traditional), German, Hindi, Spanish, etc.
In addition, through a series of engagements with experts, policymakers and privacy regulators on issues such as usage and security, Bard's service area has also been greatly expanded to include the 27 countries/regions of the European Union and Brazil.
Bard also pledged to continue using its AI principles as a guide, continually incorporating user feedback, and taking steps to protect people's privacy and data.
In terms of personalized response, Bard has added the function of voice reply.
This feature is particularly useful for users who want to hear the correct pronunciation of words, or recitations of texts such as poems and scripts.
This function only requires entering a prompt in Bard's dialog box and selecting the sound icon on the interface.
The technical leader of Bard believes that sometimes listening to content can help people get different creative inspirations and inspirations.
Now users can easily adjust the tone and style of Bard's replies without having to train the AI through a long list of prompts!
Currently, there are 5 styles to choose from on the Bard user interface: simple, long, short, professional or casual.
For users, just click on the corresponding option to make Bard's answer simpler, more detailed, shorter, more professional or more casual...
This is simply good news for lazy cancer patients!
In addition, in terms of improving work efficiency, Bard has "intimately" considered the scenarios in which users use AI to improve productivity, and has specially launched three functional expansions:
The first is the chat conversation with Bard.
In this updated version, Bard has added the functions of pinning chats, renaming previous chat conversations, conducting multiple chat conversations at the same time, and sharing chat content with others.
Bard is serious! Four key supports are provided for the chat conversation feature alone.
Chat pinning allows users to see important chat conversations at a glance in the cluttered chat list when users revisit Bard.
Renaming previous chat conversations can help users organize their chat records and form a systematic work file.
There is no need to go into details about the benefits of having multiple chat conversations at the same time. This is a great helper for improving efficiency and multi-line processes!
Share the content link of the chat conversation with one click to spread your inspiration, creativity or interesting and useful opinions to more people. This not only stimulates people's creative potential, but also demonstrates and promotes collaboration between teams.
In the dialogue input between the user and Bard, a new image recognition function is added.
Whether you're asking Bard to provide more detailed information about a picture or creating copy on this picture, Bard's powerful built-in Google Smart Lens can help you get the job done!
Workers are ecstatic! It’s easier to start with one picture and make up the rest (Bard output) (bushi).
But seriously, pictures are a great vehicle for people to use their imagination. Relaxing the restrictions on uploading images can stimulate our imagination and creativity, and find more ways to explore and create.
Writing code is the direct cause of programmers' baldness. Bard has noticed interest in using Bard for coding tasks.
Therefore, this update expands Bard’s ability to export code. In addition to Google Colab, code generated by Bard can be exported directly to Replit.
It may look like you're just transferring content from Bard to Replit, but it can greatly simplify your workflow.
Apart from anything else, pasting and copying the past code, if there is a space somewhere, can make a programmer sit in front of the computer and doubt his life for an entire afternoon.
Except for uploading pictures, which currently only supports English, the other two functions support more than 40 languages. But in terms of image recognition, Bard will soon expand to other languages.
It seems that migrant workers have another great opportunity to fish!
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Text
Google Bard supports Chinese! Pass level 10, understand the memes, and get started for free.
Two days ago, Claude, ChatGPT’s strongest competitor, was upgraded to the second generation, and Google is not far behind.
Today, the latest version of Bard is here, allowing you to add images to prompts, customize responses, and add support for 40 languages.
It is worth mentioning that Bard can also support Chinese!
Even Musk said it was interesting.
Without further ado, let’s get started and experience it.
1. First-hand experience record
Let’s start with a Chinese Level HE Tuber 10 test question, “Winter: Wear as much as you can wear; Summer: Wear as much as you can. What’s the difference between these two sentences?”
Not to mention, Bard’s Chinese understanding ability is really good.
In addition to the above reply, you have 2 other alternative drafts, and you can even change it again.
Choosing Draft 3, Bard’s reply seemed more humane. Not only did he answer the question, but he also gave some dressing rules for winter and summer.
Here’s another one, a Chinese question that makes even foreigners cry. Bard is very familiar with it.
The kid's brain teasers stumped Bard. I still haven’t really understood the essence of this Chinese language. (Correct answer: fool)
Families, have you heard that aspartame may cause cancer?
Our most common daily foods, including drinks, especially happy water, contain this element.
What advice can Bard give us on food?
How to make Couple's Fei Tablets? Bard did not fall into the trap and directly presented this Sichuan cuisine recipe.
Compared with ChatGPT, how would Bard evaluate his Chinese ability?
Bard's reply is very neutral and objective. Each has its own advantages. It's hard to say who is better.
I was playing idiom solitaire with Bard again, but to my surprise, he got the better of me first.
I just wanted to praise it for its good connection, but it overturned in the next round.
Musk yesterday established xAI, a company that will decipher the ultimate answer to the universe. What do you think of Bard?
Unexpectedly, Bard actually got the wrong founder of the company, including Greg Brockman.
At the Google I/O conference, it was announced that Bard supports input images, and now this feature is finally here.
The editor tried it out. However, currently only English Q&A is supported.
Is it a duck or a rabbit?
Bard did not immediately answer the trap we threw to it, but explained that this picture is a classic example of the "duck-rabbit illusion."
This painting can be seen as a duck or as a rabbit. It depends on how you look at the painting, and how your brain interprets the lines in the painting.
Bard then responded to our questions: In this picture, he saw a duck, but he also expressed his understanding of seeing a rabbit. Because the lines that form the rabbit's ears can also be seen as the duck's beak, and the lines that form the rabbit's body can also be seen as the duck's neck.
At the end, Bard explains to us that this "duck-rabbit illusion" is an interesting example of how our brains work, reminding us that what we see as the thing actually looks is not necessarily "real and completely correct", but Formed through our understanding and understanding of things.
Bard's answer can be said to be very complete, and the editor decided to give it 100 points!
What is this panda doing?
Bard didn't understand the appearance of this Kung Fu Panda, but it made sense when analyzed from another angle.
The panda in the picture is sitting on a branch. It was probably resting, temporarily stopping from eating bamboo, their main food source. Pandas are famous for their love of bamboo, which they can spend up to 14 hours a day eating.
The panda in the picture is still looking around, perhaps looking for potential predators. Pandas are an endangered species and are still hunted by humans in some parts of the world.
Overall, the panda in the picture is just enjoying a peaceful moment in the tree. It reminds us of the beauty and resilience of these amazing creatures.
Can you understand this picture? What’s the point of the joke?
Bard also didn't mention the image of "Ultraman" in his reply.
The picture you sent is interesting because it shows a man wearing glasses and a red Frisbee hat. Frisbee hats are a very unusual headgear, especially interesting when paired with a man's glasses. The man's expression also adds to the humor, as he seems unaware of how ridiculous he looks.
Here are some specific reasons why people might find this image interesting:
– The incongruity between a Frisbee hat and a man’s head
– The man’s unconcerned expression
– The man wears glasses, making the frisbee hat look even more ridiculous
Ultimately, whether you find this image interesting or not is a personal matter. However, I think most people would agree that it's at least somewhat humorous.
Another example is asking it, is this a fish?
Even though it was placed on the chopping board, Bard could clearly see that it was a pencil case!
No, the picture you sent is not of a fish. It's a pencil case. The image shows a realistic-looking fish on a wooden cutting board. However, the fish is actually made of fabric or plastic and has a zipper on top. This indicates that it is a pencil case and not an actual fish.
This pencil case was probably meant to look like a fish, as it was a popular design for children's pencil cases. Fish is also a symbol of good luck in many cultures, so it may be considered a good luck charm for students.
Or you can ask what breed of dog this is.
2. List of Bard functions
Official news about the updated version of Bard is here!
I heard that the features of this Bard update mainly include these three sections:
Language and region expansion, personalized response, and work efficiency improvement.
Hmm...is it really that good? Then let us take a look at the specific updates of Bard!
As a global artificial intelligence service, Bard aims to assist humans in exploring various possibilities. The current version can already support most languages used on the Internet.
In this update, more than 40 new languages are supported by Bard, including Arabic, Chinese (Simplified/Traditional), German, Hindi, Spanish, etc.
In addition, through a series of engagements with experts, policymakers and privacy regulators on issues such as usage and security, Bard's service area has also been greatly expanded to include the 27 countries/regions of the European Union and Brazil.
Bard also pledged to continue using its AI principles as a guide, continually incorporating user feedback, and taking steps to protect people's privacy and data.
In terms of personalized response, Bard has added the function of voice reply.
This feature is particularly useful for users who want to hear the correct pronunciation of words, or recitations of texts such as poems and scripts.
This function only requires entering a prompt in Bard's dialog box and selecting the sound icon on the interface.
The technical leader of Bard believes that sometimes listening to content can help people get different creative inspirations and inspirations.
Now users can easily adjust the tone and style of Bard's replies without having to train the AI through a long list of prompts!
Currently, there are 5 styles to choose from on the Bard user interface: simple, long, short, professional or casual.
For users, just click on the corresponding option to make Bard's answer simpler, more detailed, shorter, more professional or more casual...
This is simply good news for lazy cancer patients!
In addition, in terms of improving work efficiency, Bard has "intimately" considered the scenarios in which users use AI to improve productivity, and has specially launched three functional expansions:
The first is the chat conversation with Bard.
In this updated version, Bard has added the functions of pinning chats, renaming previous chat conversations, conducting multiple chat conversations at the same time, and sharing chat content with others.
Bard is serious! Four key supports are provided for the chat conversation feature alone.
Chat pinning allows users to see important chat conversations at a glance in the cluttered chat list when users revisit Bard.
Renaming previous chat conversations can help users organize their chat records and form a systematic work file.
There is no need to go into details about the benefits of having multiple chat conversations at the same time. This is a great helper for improving efficiency and multi-line processes!
Share the content link of the chat conversation with one click to spread your inspiration, creativity or interesting and useful opinions to more people. This not only stimulates people's creative potential, but also demonstrates and promotes collaboration between teams.
In the dialogue input between the user and Bard, a new image recognition function is added.
Whether you're asking Bard to provide more detailed information about a picture or creating copy on this picture, Bard's powerful built-in Google Smart Lens can help you get the job done!
Workers are ecstatic! It’s easier to start with one picture and make up the rest (Bard output) (bushi).
But seriously, pictures are a great vehicle for people to use their imagination. Relaxing the restrictions on uploading images can stimulate our imagination and creativity, and find more ways to explore and create.
Writing code is the direct cause of programmers' baldness. Bard has noticed interest in using Bard for coding tasks.
Therefore, this update expands Bard’s ability to export code. In addition to Google Colab, code generated by Bard can be exported directly to Replit.
It may look like you're just transferring content from Bard to Replit, but it can greatly simplify your workflow.
Apart from anything else, pasting and copying the past code, if there is a space somewhere, can make a programmer sit in front of the computer and doubt his life for an entire afternoon.
Except for uploading pictures, which currently only supports English, the other two functions support more than 40 languages. But in terms of image recognition, Bard will soon expand to other languages.
It seems that migrant workers have another great opportunity to fish!
0 notes
Text
Over the Moon: Obi Wan Kenobi x Reader
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 8081 (wtf this is so close to Anakin’s secret password or whatever, also WOW this is easily the longest piece I’ve ever written)
Warnings: HEAVY smut, both male and female receiving oral, unprotected sex, lots and lots of dirty talk, heavy use of the word ‘master’, dom/sub play, slight brat taming, praise and humiliation kink, edging, slight force play & restraint
A/N: Hey yalllll I’m back with another smut LMAO this is a prequel to let me take care of you, my first obi-wan smut :DD this is LONG asf and includes a small backstory but I promise the majority of it includes smut scenes lol. I hope you guys enjoy and I love your feedback!! much love <3
******************
You were over the moon when you found out that you would be accompanied by General Obi Wan Kenobi on your next business trip.
Literally. Quite literally, you were over the moon. You had just coincidentally flown over Centax-3 and were now in pursuit to Coruscant's surface in preparation for your oncoming journey, and you were so beyond excited that you found it hard to contain yourself around your personal guards. Just as you entered the planet’s atmosphere, you decided you had enough of the automated briefing and muted the transmitter on your arm. You were too focused on the fact that you were going to be alone with General Kenobi for an entire day.
Well, night really. You had managed to catch that part of the briefing.
You could watch it later. As you packed, perhaps. It was fine.
Feeling like a little girl as you basically pranced back to your quarters, you lugged a small bag out of your closet and began to fill it with necessities.
Being a senator for so many years had forced you into countless situations with General Kenobi, but never such as this one. When you met the Jedi Knight in the beginning of your career, the two of you clicked almost instantly. Over time, your admiration of the man blossomed into something...different.
Oftentimes the general would escort you from the Senate Chamber itself all the way to your office on the third floor. He had always been so well spoken and full to the brim with witty charm, enough to make you feel like a total schoolgirl when you locked yourself in your office, squealing and jumping up and down after your encounters with him. Sometimes, you would accompany Obi Wan on walks both inside and outside the building. One time, he was kind enough to show you the gardens outside the Jedi temple on Coruscant. Other times, you were simply by his side in the senate halls, holding your stomach as you just about died of laughter. It was all you could do to keep yourself from absolutely melting when he looked at you with those glittering blue eyes, his lips curved up into a smirk.
Butterflies swarmed in a vicious frenzy as you packed your bag, your cheeks so hot you thought you might explode just at the thought of General Kenobi. You looked up when you heard a soft knock at your door. “Come in,” You had said before a guard stepped inside and informed you that you were leaving earlier than the time scheduled. You nodded and rose to your feet swiftly with a polite smile.
“That’s alright, I’m already prepared.”
***************
The only thing you had forgotten was to finish watching the automated briefing.
Which, arguably, should have been at the top of your list. But somehow it had just slipped from your mind. Now, you were positioned in between General Kenobi and his commander, CC-2224, but you knew him as Cody. The two men remained quiet and Obi Wan tapped through the data pad in his hand. When you glanced at Cody, you couldn’t tell what exactly he was looking at or if he even had his eyes open under his helmet, he was so quiet. Either way, you cast him a polite smile when you glanced his way.
You felt kind of awful, really. This was, on your part, a mission regarding humanitarian aid, and you were the Galactic Republic’s representative in this instance. You didn’t know anything about this planet you were traveling to, only its name - Lelroth. You didn’t know the people’s conditions nor how much territory the Separatists occupied, that is, unless the citizens had decided to stand their ground.
A clone trooper’s voice came over the intercom of the transporter. “We’ll be arriving shortly.”
You tried to peek at Obi Wan’s data pad in hopes of receiving any information. “Have you ever been to Lelroth?” You asked.
He glanced up at you. “No. Frankly, I have no idea what to expect.”
“Well, that makes two of us.” You muttered quietly. His eyebrows quirked up as he stared at you.
“What?” You asked.
“You...received the briefing, correct?” He asked, and immediately your palms began to sweat.
“Of course I received the briefing.” You responded a little too defensively. He gave you a small grin before looking back down at the tablet in his hands.
You glanced over at Cody nervously as if expecting a response. You felt stupid after your eyes fell onto his yellow helmet, hearing Obi Wan step away and enter the pilot’s cabin.
“You didn’t watch the briefing, did you?” Cody asked, his voice hushed and amused.
“No.” You said. “No, I did not.”
You heard his chuckle through the moderator in his helmet as heat rose to your cheeks. You couldn’t help but smile and punch him playfully, giggling slightly. He leaned closer and began to fill you in quietly, and all jokes fell aside when you learned of the planet’s condition.
Few months prior, Lelroth had fallen under separatist control after the population had been forced under Count Dooku’s submission. The Republic Senate had been receiving reports of just about anything you could think of to describe a humanitarian crisis. You stumbled into Cody a bit as the ship landed.
“We’re here.” The pilot announced as the hatch lowered with a loud, steaming noise.
You squinted as bright sunlight poured into the cabin, raising a hand up to block the sun as Obi Wan stepped out. Lelroth’s atmosphere was thick and humid as you followed him, listening to the dirt crumble beneath your feet as you stepped out. You gazed around the enclosing woods with a small smile, the saturation taking you by surprise after being stuck on Coruscant’s smoggy surface for so long. Though it was muggy, the air felt clean and fresh as you took in a deep breath. You swore you could almost taste the moisture on your tongue.
“Preferably tomorrow morning, yes. I’ll be contacting the council tonight and…” The general’s voice came in and out of earshot as you glanced over at the assault carrier you arrived on. You watched as the clones nodded swiftly at the Jedi’s words, saluting him one last time before the hatch closed and the ship descended through the trees. It was gone almost as quickly as it had arrived.
Obi Wan sighed and pulled the data pad back out of the abyss of his dark cloak before tapping at the screen again. “Let’s make this quick, shall we?” He murmured.
You laughed slightly. “Is my presence such a bother?” The tablet still held his attention as he flashed you a grin.
“Oh, yes. That’s definitely the reason.” He joked.
A sickening feeling started to grab at your stomach after hearing Cody describe the condition on Lelroth. You were unnerved, and regardless of the fact that you had a Jedi Knight as your company, you two were members of the Galactic Republic isolated on separatist territory.
“We should get going.” You murmured. “They’ll be expecting us soon.” you watched Obi Wan pull his large hood over his head as he murmured something under his breath, stepping forward and heading deep into the thick forest with you on his tail.
****************
The Lelrothians were a kind people. Their reaction to your arrival with the general was rather pleasant - they went so far as to throw a feast in you and the general’s honor. After meeting with the chief of the village you would reside in, you finally got a real understanding of the Lelrothians’ situation. You and Kenobi shared a grimaced glance as the chief went on to describe the state of his village alone.
He explained how a large percentage of the newfound members in his village were forced to flee the capital city after falling under a dark hand. You assumed the state of the capital was even worse than this small village as he reported substantial amounts of depleted resources. Running water had been cut off to many families and citizens could no longer supply food on their tables. The chief even mentioned the punishments some experienced for resisting - you weren’t surprised in the nearest after hearing tales of the wicked actions of General Grievous and his clanker army, but still...it was hard to hear.
“We were neutral ground,” You gazed over the chief’s descending head tails as he spoke. Dinek Kev was a twi’lek himself, his account thick and common amongst most of his species. When you glanced around the table, there had to be over fifteen different species in just the room alone. Sullustans, Ithorians, even a few Gungans and a Wookiee occupied a seat at the table. You smiled to yourself and returned your attention to the orange skin of Chief Dinek as he spoke.
“A peaceful people. Nearly everyone in this room is an immigrant or comes from one, somebody who was seeking peace. Other pacifist planets such as Mandalore seem to have been fine as they’ve remained neutral.”
“Believe me, Chief - Mandalore has been experiencing a great deal of their own internal conflict.” General Kenobi spoke.
“Forgive me, Jedi.” Dinek murmured quickly. “I’m just...desperate. I would have never taken the role of chief if it weren’t for Grievous and his army - I only want to protect my family and my home.”
You reached out and took Dinek’s hand, staring into his eyes sympathetically. “I’ll open it up for discussion in the senate as soon as I return to Coruscant. I promise you, Chief Dinek, we’re going to provide Lelroth with humanitarian aid and drive the separatists out of here.”
“I’ll speak with the council tonight.” The hood of Obi Wan’s cloak hung lazily around his neck as he murmured, stroking his beard in his typical fashion. His delicate blue eyes were glued onto his empty plate. Dinek squeezed your hand and began to thank the two of you profusely. You bit your lip, hesitant to discuss the requirements in order for any agreement to come through within the senate.
“Chief Dinek,” You started. “The villagers are going to have to learn to defend themselves.”
All you got from him in response was a simple blink, a common reaction among those the Jedi come to aid. Most planets that fall under separatist control hold peaceful populations, those who don’t believe in waging war and therefore seeing no need for a military. You desperately wished it didn’t have to be this way. It was heartbreaking seeing simple, innocent lives dragged into the Clone Wars, and one day, you hoped that the galaxy would evolve into one where war could be completely evaded.
“Defend ourselves? You mean train us to fight?” Dinek asked.
“Yes.” You replied.
“That is why we’re here.” Obi Wan explained. The chief finally slid his hand from yours and seemed to recoil at the words spoken. “The Jedi can only aid so much, Chief. The Lelrothians need to learn to defend themselves in order to be sure of complete safety from the separatists.”
After a moment of watching the chief calculate in silence, he looked up at you two with an entirely different expression on his face. He glanced around the dim room and gazed over his people with a small smile curved upon his lips. His eyes darted to yours before Obi Wan’s as he spoke.
“You’re right. The Lelrothians are never going to evade this if we don’t take matters into our own hands.” You smiled at Dinek’s words.
“Good.” Obi Wan stroked his beard again.
“I’ll leave for Coruscant at dawn and begin discussion in the senate.” You announced.
“Yes, and that is when training will begin. Tonight I will get an idea of when reinforcements will arrive on Lelroth. We’ll have a very short timespan to train, I suspect.” The general uttered.
“General Kenobi and I will stay in contact and you’ll be the first to know the senate’s decision.” You concluded. Dinek took your hand again and smiled/
“Thank you. Thank you so much.” As he spoke, music began to sound from the instruments held by those up on a small, makeshift stage. The villagers began to cheer and rose to their feet, clapping along to the tune that billowed out from various horns. You grinned as the chief stood and joined his people, taking a woman’s hand delicately and spinning her in delight.
You looked over at Obi Wan with a smile. He looked up at you and met your gaze with the rise of an eyebrow. “What?” He asked.
“Wanna dance?” You giggled. He merely scoffed.
“That would seem a bit unprofessional.” You rolled your eyes with a smile.
“Oh, lighten up, General. They threw an entire feast in our honor, surely we can dance with them.”
He smiled at you sarcastically. “I’ll pass.”
“C’mon. You know you want to.” You pressed, nudging him playfully.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He answered simply.
“Just relax. It’s not like you’ll get kicked out of the order or whatever. It’s just dancing!” He glanced up at you in his seat as you stood, grinning down at him.
“You can be very nagging, did you know that?” He asked. You offered your hand, the same stupid grin plastered onto your lips. He scoffed again and reluctantly took it, rising to his feet slowly.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” He muttered with a grin as you pulled him over to the crowd and were instantly submerged by cheers, laughter, and celebration, having the time of your life with Obi Wan at your side.
**********************
The celebration soon came to an end and after a brief escort from Chief Dinek and a few of his men, you and General Kenobi arrived at the motel you would come to stay at briefly. The neon lights of the vacancy sign cast a bleached hot pink color onto the gravel beneath your feet. It crunched and crumbled as you stepped, tuning out of Obi Wan and Dinek’s conversation as you were led into the cramped lobby.
The wallpaper was faded and chipping in the room surrounding the front desk. A small Sullustan woman sat in an organically shaped velvet chair with a book open in front of her. Dinek stepped forward and quickly informed her that you and Kenobi were the reinforcements sent from Coruscant. You listened as she told the chief that there was only one room available, in which you and Obi Wan shrugged off. She thanked the two of you, passed over the room key and sent you on your way. As you trudged up the wooden stairs that led to the second floor, you heard Obi Wan sigh.
“Tired from all that dancing, General?” You chuckled. “You sure know how to get down.”
“Yes, but you on the other hand…” He trailed off, and when you looked back at him with a dramatic expression on your face, he chuckled.
You smiled and swiped the key card through the slot outside the door. “Whatever.”
The two of you didn’t think much of the fact that there was only one room available. It didn’t matter to either of you, because all motel rooms generally contain two separate beds, right?
Wrong. Apparently, all hotel rooms except this one contained two separate beds. Your jaw wanted to hang open at the sight of it, really. Obi Wan froze in his tracks when he entered the compact room.
“Not even a sofa?” you commented. The door still hung open behind you when Obi Wan turned and met your gaze almost frantically.
“There has to be a mistake.” He said.
“She said this was the only room available. Dinek said this was the only lodge in the village.” You mumbled, finally shutting the door.
“Right, well.” The general uttered and stroked his beard once again, beginning to pace as he did so. “I guess I’ll sleep on the floor.”
You rolled your eyes. “Oh, don’t be ridiculous. I’ll sleep on the floor, you have to train in the morning.” You watched as he traveled over to the chairs seated at a tiny round table in front of the window. They were a brilliant orange in contrast to the faded, once flamboyant green walls.
“No. The chair will do.” He said as he sunk into the cushion. “See?” He planted his feet onto the stem of the table, pushing it back so it allowed him to stretch his ankles over the surface. You only stared at him with your eyebrows raised.
“It beats the floor.” Obi Wan shrugged. You shook your head, smiling as you sat on the edge of the bed. You were facing forward, looking at the painting that hung on the wall before you. The sheets on the mattress were an ugly plaid that was laced with oranges, reds, greens and browns. It was very dated, but at the same time it almost felt...homey.
“We’re adults, aren’t we?” You chuckled. “This is only a business trip, General. Stars, if we have to we can just build a pillow wall between the two of us.”
When you didn’t get an immediate response, you glanced over at him only to see the amused expression on his face. But it was the kind of amused look that nearly belittles you and makes you feel completely and utterly ridiculous.
“Yes, and a business trip it will remain.” He uttered. “I do hope you’re joking.”
Your cheeks grew hot in flustered embarrassment. “Uh - I mean, yeah. Totally kidding.” You darted your eyes to your feet and began to swing them back and forth childishly. You heard chuckling from the general’s end but didn’t dare look over at him. You didn’t need to, you already knew he was sitting back and staring at the data pad again.
Moments passed and you had nothing else better to do than sift through the dusty magazines that sat below the bedside table. The lamp atop the metal surface cast a warm, dim yellow light through the room. It made you feel almost cozy as you flipped through the old pages, reading the articles and gazing at some of the most beautiful alien models you had ever laid eyes on. “Wish they had a holonet in here.” You muttered, bored and wishing for some kind of noise instead of this awkward silence that hung in the air.
Time continued to drag on and it grew late enough for you to decide to head into the bathroom to change your clothes. You turned the handle and listened as the faucet began to run while staring at yourself in the mirror. The general seemed grumpy after your comment, and you weren’t sure why. It was easily played off as a joke, you thought...besides, you only wanted to save him from a little back pain and stiffness in the morning.
You were only trying to be polite. And, well...you were secretly hoping for a little more than that.
As you splashed warm water onto your face, you heard Obi Wan’s voice from the other side of the door and watched as his figure cast shadows across the tile you stood on. The automated voice of Master Yoda and Master Mace Windu echoed around the small room as the general began to discuss with the council.
When you stepped out of the bathroom and crawled under the covers, you tried your best not to eavesdrop on his conversation. You stared at the magazine in your lap blankly.
All he was doing was pacing, it was rather distracting. You wished this place had a radio or something, or that it was safe enough to take a short walk. The meeting between Obi Wan and the other Jedi Masters seemed to last eons as you found your eyelids growing heavy. You stared at the cover of the magazine, it showcased a twi’lek woman posing in front of a ship. You yawned, cast it aside and allowed sleep to take over completely.
******************
When you woke up, it was still dark outside. The lamp beside your bed had been shut off by Obi Wan, but the one hanging above the chair he sat in remained lit as he set down the data pad with a sigh. You weren’t sure what had woken you up, and as you gazed at the general while you laid on your side, you didn’t really care.
You could tell he was weary as he blinked slowly and ran his fingers through his hair. Glancing away, you felt slightly creepy as you stared at him for so long. But, I mean, could you really blame yourself?
After moments of silence, Obi Wan was the one to break it. “My apologies. I didn’t realize that the meeting would take so long.” His voice was deep and a bit croaky as it came out.
“It’s okay.” Was all you said as he reached for the light above him.
“Get some sleep,” he murmured.
“Are you sure you don’t want to share the bed?” You made sure it was apparent that you were joking as you smiled and chuckled, gazing at him as you did so. He paused for a moment, staring at you before his lips curved up into a grin.
“I see that pillow wall is still up for discussion?” He teased, and you laughed again.
“C’mon, it won’t bite. Besides, I’m only trying to save you from a little back pain.”
“Senator, are you implying that I’m old?” He chuckled.
“No, but I do understand that the dancing was already a step over the line for you.” You giggled, smirking. “Hurry up with that decision making please, I’m tired.”
Obi Wan laughed slightly before reaching up and turning off the light. To your disappointment, he didn’t stand up from his chair. You sighed softly and shut your eyes, letting go of the situation as you focused on falling asleep again.
Just as your mind began to wander, you felt a weight sink into the mattress beside you. Your eyes flew open as Obi Wan climbed into bed next to you, only to stare at the complete darkness that surrounded.
You grinned. “Did you change your mind?”
He sighed as he settled in. You could feel him, mere inches away from you as he relaxed. “Don’t make me regret it, Senator.”
You chuckled as darker thoughts began to consume you, reminding yourself that this was a business trip - strictly business. You wondered if Obi Wan thought the same, but you shot that down with another reality check as well.
You wanted to say something, but you didn’t. You couldn’t. You were worried that Obi Wan was actually trying to sleep, and you didn’t want to disturb him, or worse - make things even more awkward like earlier. Now, more than ever, you knew you were never going to fall asleep with Obi Wan Kenobi lying next to you.
“Are you alright?”
“Hm?”
“I can practically feel how restless you are at the moment.” He murmured.
“Am I moving too much or is it your spooky voodoo magic?” You asked. He began to chuckle softly.
“Do you mean the Force?”
“Yeah, that.”
“It doesn’t take a Jedi to feel you staring at me.” The grin in his voice made you feel even more embarrassed as you rolled over onto your opposite side, your eyes squeezed shut.
Obi Wan hesitated for a moment before murmuring, “I never said stop, darling. I don’t mind.” His words ignited a spark that released trillions of butterflies swarming in your stomach, and you couldn’t stop the gigantic smile that was forming on your lips.
“I’m sorry, what was that?” As you responded, you felt the general’s weight shift behind you.
His voice came from above you now. “Oh, you didn’t hear me clearly?” You felt his hot breath against your ear as he spoke his next sentence. “I said, I don’t mind your staring. I just wish you would stare at me when I could see you doing it.” His mumbling spiraled into your ear and descended down your body, pausing right in between your legs. You crossed them tight in instinct, nearly gasping.
“I thought you said this trip was strictly business, General.” You breathed.
“Like you said, I already crossed the line when you forced me to dance.” He joked. “Besides, I think we’ve both waited long enough for this moment.” His voice was hushed and gravelly and Stars, sexy as it rumbled into your ear. You turned until you felt his lips were hovering over yours in the darkness, the mattress creaking as you did so.
“You didn’t seem to think that way earlier.” You mumbled, a fat smirk on your face as you teased him. He sunk himself closer to you and you swore you felt his lips brush against yours for a second.
“Nobody needs to know,” He whispered. A moment of silence passed before he dove his lips into yours, drawing out a small sound of surprise from you. You felt his forearm come down beside your head and he let out the tiniest of groans. You knew this was coming judging by your previous dialogue, but you were still in shock. For a moment, you seemed to be dead weight as Obi Wan crawled on top of you. The only thing that moved was your lips against his until realization finally kicked in.
It started with your hands, which rose up swiftly to grab the sides of his face. His beard felt scratchy beneath your fingers in the best way as you hooked your legs around his waist. You had always wanted to touch him like this, to feel and move with him as your mouths were connected and one was on top of the other. It was something you could only fantasize about for the longest time until you had to tell yourself it was never going to happen. But now, it was happening.
His lips were as soft and welcoming as the pillows beneath your head as he kissed you. It was deep and passionate and almost aggressive, and that alone confirmed to you that Kenobi wanted you just as much as you wanted him.
Following your hands came your tongue as you pressed it between his lips gently, silently asking for entrance into the warm cave of his mouth. He granted permission and you felt his hand entangle in your hair when your tongues met. You sat up slightly, pushing yourself into him further as you dragged your teeth across the pink valley of his bottom lip. The grip nestled in your hair tightened in reaction and you giggled softly into him.
He tasted of fresh mint, and you found yourself wondering if he had brushed his teeth mere moments before this. He was dominating and absolutely thrilling as he rolled over, allowing you to straddle his waist and dip your chin down to his neck to leave a series of pecks down his flesh.
“Someone’s eager,” he commented, and in response you bit down slightly into his skin. He made a small startled noise in response before chuckling, abruptly flipping you onto your back. He left you breathless as his lips collided into yours again, and he groaned when you arched into him. His hands were absolutely everywhere. They ran from your jaw to your neck and then down to your forearms, back up to your shoulders and down to your breasts, down to your waist to grab at your hips...seemingly all at once.
He squeezed his fingers into the meat of your thighs and you groaned, raking your own through his hair. You felt like his touch was all you needed as your tongue slid against his.
Darkness still engulfed the two of you. Obi Wan’s skin was on fire when he caressed you, the heat between your legs was set ablaze as he dipped his chin down, his lips traveling down your neck slowly. You wanted to see him, his face when he looked down at you, his blue eyes clouded with lust. You wanted to look into his eyes and absolutely moan his name, you wanted to -
Obi Wan’s lips left your skin just above the hem of your shirt. He paused for a moment, holding himself before you and panting. “What is it?” You asked.
“Take off your clothes.” He commanded. You felt him lean to the side and squinted when the lamp was switched on. You didn’t respond as your eyes adjusted to the light, you only peered at him rather dumbly. You watched when he dragged his tongue across his lower lip. His eyelids looked heavy when he stared down at you.
“Did I stutter?” He asked. Your heart picked up pace and you grinned when you grabbed the neckline of his robes and yanked him forward.
“Why don’t you take it off for me?” You mumbled, blinking innocently. You felt your wrists fly above your head, elbows bent slightly as they tied together under an invisible grasp. You were confused for a moment as the general began to run his hands underneath your shirt, caressing your sides and traveling over your breasts briefly. It took a moment before it finally dawned on you that he was using the Force as your restraint.
He slid the fabric up ever so slowly and stared at your stomach when it was slowly revealed. He continued, his big warm hands sliding up your skin and pausing just as your breasts were revealed. He murmured something inaudible before tightening his grip around your waist and pulling you down on the mattress so his lips were level with your nipples. You moaned quietly, biting your lip as he began to kiss them. Your cunt was throbbing at this point and the muscles in your arms grew tired from being in such an unfamiliar position. You shut your eyes, but all at once the sensation on your breasts was removed as Obi Wan straightened his posture and finished ripping off your shirt. It came over your head quickly and was tossed to the side as if it were nothing.
“Can I have my hands back?” You giggled, breathless as he gazed at you.
He left soft, sweet kisses on the inside of your arms, his eyes twinkling as he had you paralyzed by the Force. “Not yet.” He said, and you didn’t have time to read the expression on your face before his lips were on your breasts again. You pushed your hips up against his chest as he continued, whining as he bit down gently onto your nipples. His lips descended down the center of your stomach, leaving slow, wet kisses on your skin before pausing just above the waistline of your pants. His blue eyes finally blinked up at you, and he was smirking.
Your cunt was throbbing so damn hard you wondered if he could feel it at this point. “Please,” You breathed. “I want to touch you.”
“Not yet,” Obi Wan repeated before curling his fingertips around the hem of the fabric and dragging it down your thighs.
“This...isn’t fair.” You grunted as you tried to pull your wrists from their restraint. It was no use, it felt like your arms were paralyzed in this position. Your pajama pants were now being thrown to the side just as your shirt was, and the general was leaving small pecks up the length of your legs whilst holding strong eye contact.
“Please, general - “ your cunt felt like it was on fire when he lifted his chin to look at you.
“Did you...seriously just call me ‘general’ in this setting?” He paused, chuckling.
“Well, I - “ you were flustered and frustrated at this point. “I don’t know, what should I call you?!” You had snapped. He only grinned with a shrug before he continued, pulling at your skin with his teeth.
He dug his fingers into your sides, and in between slow kisses, he said, “Doesn’t matter...whatever feels...most...comfortable.”
You thought about it for a moment. Yeah, you supposed referring to him as General Kenobi was a bit strange as he was actively stripping you of your clothing. But it still didn’t feel right calling him Obi Wan, either. You weren’t sure why.
Your wrists were finally released as his lips reached the corner of your inner thigh just below your flaming heat. Your panties still hugged your hips when Kenobi glanced up at you, seeming like he had forgotten to hold your arms in place.
Without giving him any chance of reaction, you slid out from under him and pounced on him like a fucking animal. You giggled and he shared your smile as you sat on him and began to rid him of his robes.
Once they were off and you finally got to shower every possible centimeter of his skin with kisses, but he was quick to flip you back over so you were trapped beneath him again. You struggled to get atop of him with a grunt, but it was useless. He was already pinning your wrists to the sheets again and barricading you with his own weight.
“Behave.” Again, his voice rumbled right into your ear, hot and thick as he nipped at your earlobe. In response you arched your back into him and whined, digging your fingernails into his back.
“Let me touch you - “ you grunted. “I want to...to make you feel good. I can make you feel so good, Master.” You moaned, letting the words fall from your mouth without even a second thought. In an instant, his fingers were around your chin and you were being forced to look into his pretty eyes.
“What did you call me?” He asked.
You giggled. “You heard me.”
A minute went by before he moved his hand from your chin downwards, slowly tightening around your neck. “Say it again.” You smiled and tilted your head back, shutting your eyes and moaning the word again.
“Master.”
He let out a sound similar to a growl before he rolled over, positioning yourself on top of his lap. You could feel his large erection beneath you, and it was in the perfect spot as you rolled your hips forward and crouched down, allowing your lips to meet his.
He kissed you aggressively, placed one hand on the back of your head and forced you into him while the other snaked underneath the fabric of your panties, finding your clit almost instantly. You whimpered against his lips and continued to grind against his cock before using your own hands to remove yourself from the barricading fabric.
You were so desperate to feel him inside of you. He grabbed your chin again and forced your lips to part, staring at you with dark eyes and a wicked grin as he pressed the pad of his thumb to your lower lip. “So desperate for it, aren’t you?” He mumbled.
You huffed and tossed your underwear to the side before pressing your lips against his ear and murmuring, “Can you feel how wet I am for you, Master?”
He grunted and moved his hands to your hips, forcing them down onto his cock. You rocked them forward, letting the tip slide over your clit and through your slick folds with a moan. Fuck, this felt good. You lapped at his earlobe and giggled before continuing. “Just imagine how good it’ll feel when you put it in, so warm and wet and tight - “
“You’ll want to shut that pretty little mouth before I put it to work.” He growled, and a wild grin spread over your face before you positioned him below your entrance.
You took him in slowly with a long moan and straightened you back, your breasts high and prominent for him to see. “Fuck,” you moaned. Your eyebrows furrowed as he filled you up.
Obi Wan grunted. “Stars, can’t you go any quicker?” He was frustrated as you giggled again.
“I think this feels fucking good.” You moaned again. “Your cock is so - “ you were cut off by his hand on your throat, forcing him down to his own face. He didn’t say anything, just silently forced your lips against his. It made you lose control of your pace, plunging down onto his entire length at once, drawing moans from both of you as you kissed.
“That’s better.” He mumbled against you. “Now do it again.”
You brought your hips up once more and slithered your tongue into his mouth, allowing them to fall back down, your cunt swallowing him whole in one stroke. Just as you started to kiss his neck again, you were flipped onto your back for what felt like the thousandth time.
“Would you just let me - “ The familiar grip on your chin cut you off, and your eyes were forced into his. With his other hand, he brought your knees to your chest and positioned himself at your entrance. He absolutely rammed himself inside of you without any issues, and your eyes widened when you gasped.
“I thought...I told you...to behave.” Obi Wan grunted in between his thrusts. Your fingers found their grip in the sheets beside you. Your back arched and you moaned while he pumped himself in and out of your wet cunt.
“If this is what I get for misbehaving…” you panted, tears pricking at your eyes from them being shut so tight. “...then I guess I’ll have to do it more often.”
General Kenobi let out a low groan as he continued thrusting into you, remaining his quick, hard rhythm. Your eyes met his as the two of you moaned, and his hand found its way back into the roots of your hair as he muttered, “Say it.”
“Master,” you mewled as he tugged on your hair, his cock hitting the perfect spot as he thrusted into you. “Master, your cock feels so good - “ his thumb was on your lip again when he interrupted you.
“Such filthy words coming from this pretty little face,” he murmured. “You like being dirty, don’t you? You enjoy being choked when you misbehave, hmm?”
You didn’t respond, your eyebrows only curved up when you moaned. His hips rolled forward and his cock was still sliding in and out of your folds. “Answer me,” he demanded.
“Yes,” you breathed. “Yes, Master.” Your hand released its grip on the sheets and traveled down in between your legs to gently play with your clit, but Obi Wan stopped you, removing your wrist sharply.
“If you want it, beg for it.” He said slowly.
“Fuck,” you gasped. “Please play with it - Master, please just touch my clit and…” you trailed off with whine as you felt his thumb slowly circling around it, agonizingly slow and so, so hot. You whimpered and rolled your head back into the pillow, tangling your hair against the cotton.
“Does that feel good, darling? Tell me how it feels.”
“Yes, fuck, it feels so good,” You panted, your eyes squeezing shut again. “It feels so fucking good, I might...I might cum,” you continued in between whimpers and moans. “Master - please let me cum.”
“Good girl.” He rasped before removing his thumb completely. You let out a sob as he pulled his length out from you, watching as he began to stroke himself when he lowered his head between your legs. “Such a good girl, asking for my permission.” He murmured before sliding his tongue up your heat ever so slowly, stopping at your clit to circle around it.
You whined, bucking your hips against him, grinding on his face as you babbled. “Fuck...this feels so good, your tongue, shit, I want your cock again - “
“You’ll have to wait for it,” he mumbled against you. Whining, you sat up and propped yourself on your elbows as you panted. You were a mess, and you continued to plead with him until he had enough of it and grabbed you by your shoulders. He forced you onto the floor, sitting on your knees as he sat on the mattress in front of you.
“If you won’t shut your mouth, I’ll just have to do it for you.” He muttered before pushing your head down onto his large cock. You let out a satisfied moan and made sure he was staring at you, remaining eye contact. You lifted a hand to stroke the base as your tongue swirled slowly around the tip, bobbing your head back and forth steadily.
Obi Wan moaned and shut his eyes. “Stars.” He murmured.
You released the tip with an audible pop, allowing a string of drool to fall from the edge of your lower lip. “It feels good, doesn’t it Master?” You planted your tongue to the base of his shaft and slooooowly dragged it up prior to rolling it over the tip and taking him into your mouth again. His breath hitched in his throat.
“You’re so filthy, do you know that? You’re so...good at this, you must have...had - practice...Stars, pretty girl...how are you so good at this?” He mumbled, grunting and moaning between the words that spilled from his mouth.
Again, his shaft left your mouth and you spit on your palm before using it to stroke him up and down. You blinked at him all innocent and doe-like. “I like it when you talk to me like that. Will you cum on my face, Master?”
Obi Wan blinked and grunted, thrusting his hips up into your palm. “You’re obscene.”
“But you like it, don’t you?” You planted a kiss on his tip before gliding your hands along his thighs and rising to your feet. You leaned forward and lifted his chin using your index and middle finger, smiling. “You like seeing me like this. You like making me your dirty little slut, don’t you, Master?” You blinked again and smiled sweetly before swinging your leg around his lap, straddling him.
He was absolutely mesmerized. “Don’t give me that look.”
You did it again, smiled softly. “Or what?” You challenged.
Just as your cunt was about to swallow his length again, you were thrown onto your back strongly and the general’s hand was once again tightened around your neck. His lips were on your ear and his fingers were dancing around your clit as he rammed himself inside of you. Your eyes filled with tears when you cried out, savoring the sudden sensations engulfing you. You moaned, feeling your voice vibrate against his hand.
“I like punishing you, you know.” His voice was low, and you moaned as he licked your ear. “You’re such a good girl when you want to be.”
“This isn’t...much of a punishment.” You grunted. He bit down onto your earlobe and you whimpered.
“Oh, we haven’t gotten to that part yet.” He rasped into your ear. His pace quickened and his fingers felt glorious against your clit. Your movements synced with his perfectly. You could feel yourself quickly approaching your climax as he kissed the skin on your neck, hitting all the perfect places when he pumped into you. It was as if he knew exactly what you wanted and how you wanted it.
You felt yourself caving in and desire dripped from your tongue as you moaned, “I’m gonna cum.” Just as the words fell, everything stopped. Obi Wan’s fingers and his cock left your cunt all at once, and you let out a cry just before his eyes met yours.
“Like I said before,” his lips brushed against your own as he purred into your mouth. “We hadn’t gotten there yet.”
You already had come down almost completely from your previous euphoric state when his fingers glided inside of you. You writhed and moaned under his touch and Stars, this man sure knew who to put his hands to work. When he lowered his lips back down to your clit, you thought you would just about lose your mind. “Fuck.” You moaned. “Please, Master. Let me finish.” You pleaded.
“Quiet.” He muttered before continuing. You obeyed and only continued to moan under his force, biting your lip and rocking your hips against his face as he pleasured you. His free hand slithered up your body and intertwined his fingers with your own as he worked in between your legs. You squeezed his hand so hard that you thought it would just about snap off. Obi Wan finally paused, blinking up at you from in between your legs.
“Are you going to behave now, darling?” He asked, still slowly working his fingers in and out of your cunt as he spoke. You nodded quickly.
“Say it.”
“Y-yes. I’m going to behave, I-I’ll be a good girl for you.” You said then added, “Master.” The general chuckled before instructing you to get on your elbows and knees, to which you obliged and rested your front end onto a cushy pillow. You arched your back, ass raised, and giggled when you received a slap on your ass before Kenobi positioned himself.
He grabbed at and pulled your hair, raising your head so you could see him out of the corner of your eye. He planted a kiss onto your temple before murmuring,
“Pretty, pretty girl.”
Then, he rammed into you so hard and unexpectedly that you gasp and cry out his name. He clearly doesn’t catch it, and you shut your eyes as a single tear falls, continuing to cry out and whimper beneath him. Fuck, it’s amazing, and it’s everything you had ever fantasized it would be. You swear you see stars as he continues, pumping in and out of you again, again, and again...this position seems so much better than before, you thought. His grip is so tight on your hips that you think it may leave bruises, but hell, you love it. You want him to leave marks on you.
You think of all the times before that were filled with nothing but harmless flirting and charm. Now, everything will be different. You giggled at the thought of changing in the morning and seeing the bruises he left on your skin. You could feel yourself approaching your climax just at the thought of knowing that in this moment, you were his.
You almost didn’t want it to end, but you were so desperate to finish after having it ripped from you at the very edge. You were sweating, panting, and groaning the word “Master,” over and over again. “I’m gonna cum,” you said heavily.
“Go ahead.” Obi Wan seemed to gasp. Another tear fell down your cheek and you cried out louder than ever before as you crashed down onto him, all around him, everywhere. Absolutely fucking everywhere, and if it weren’t for the Jedi’s weight holding you up, you would’ve collapsed down into the mattress already. It hit like a fucking train wreck, and he remained his steady pace as your walls closed in onto his cock. You assumed he could feel your shaking, and when your breath heaved in and out of your lungs as you slumped against the pillow beneath you, you smiled a lazy smile.
The sound of Obi Wan Kenobi grunting and letting out a long, high-pitched moan as he came undone inside of you was just about the sexiest thing in the entire galaxy. He collided into the bed beside you, panting as he stared at the ceiling. You finally allowed your hips to fall and rested on your stomach, you head turned to face him. Beads of sweat rolled across his skin when he looked at you, and your thighs still quivered against the sheets.
He dragged two of his fingers softly underneath your chin. “Beautiful,” was all he could make out as he huffed beside you. You shut your eyes, that lazy smile still plastered to your face.
“Do you...think anybody heard us?” You asked, opening your eyes again. You gazed over his beard and his strong features as he peered at you.
“Oh, without a doubt.” He began to chuckle.
“Whoops.” You giggled. He rolled over and pressed his lips to yours briefly before responding.
“If I’m being honest, I really couldn’t care any less.” His voice was husky when he smiled as you pulled him back down, kissing him again and again until you fell asleep in your blissful state.
****************
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I think you. should ask Janus to "slither" over to your house! But also give him options! Like, "would you like to join me for dinner at my house? Or do you prefer to just go on a walk? How about we go to a fancy restaurant~ My treat~. Or maybe just enjoy each other's company at a park? You don't have to of course!"
(Words: 2095)
Logan: "Ah yes wonderful tactics stranger! This will surely be useless in my upcoming attempt!"
It was nearing the end of the day. Janus was closing up. Meanwhile Logan was trying to calm his nerves by reminding himself that he was objectivly very cool. He had on one of his best sweaters to look extra good (it had the tardis on it!).
"Alright. Looks like we can go home and have an existential crisis about the passage of time" Janus said motioning towards the exit.
Logan took a deep breathe before grabbing onto the sleeve of his crush' shirt "Please wait just a moment. How long have we known each other?"
"I guess since I started working here...so around 6 months? Please don't tell me you’re quitting! Work would just become soooo much more enjoyable"
"I was actually wondering if you mayhaps would like to accompany me on a so called 'hang out' during our leisure time...Today...Or some other day! If you want to! You don't have t-"
"No! No I would hate to!- Love! I mean I would love to!" Janus couldn't stop himself from grinning.
Logan flapped his hands in happiness "Good! So would you maybe like to go to the park nearby or-"
"No! Yes! Yes!"
"Great!"
Logan walked out of the library and held the door open for Janus. After quickly locking they walked towards the park. It was a simple small one. Just some trees, lots of grass, lots of people smoking grass, a pond, angry ducks, even angrier swans and exactly 1 ice cream shop.
All Logan wanted to do was take his crush' hand. It would be hard to do even if he tried to because Janus was constantly fiddling with his gloves. He was barely even looking at where he was walking.
"....I'm sorry for the weird way I talk sometimes" Janus quietly confessed "With the backwards talk. I kind of lie when I get nervous? I think?"
"Oh I know" Logan replied.
"You kNOw?" Janus' voice went up a tone.
"It is very noticeable but it is also quite charming if I may say so myself" It took a moment before he carefully added "Besides I have read that compulsive lying and also vitiligo can come from great stress or bad...events so even if I did not find it charming I wouldn't hold it against you either"
A small smile played on the edges of Janus' lips "Thanks"
"No need"
He took an impressively deep breathe before he stopped in the middle of the road and dramatically grabbed onto both of Logan's shoulders to stop him. He stood on his toes to make himself taller and stared into his love's eyes.
"I do not think you are also charming at all!!!" Janus very loudly announced.
Logan let up into a chuckle. He forced himself to keep eye contact "Well thank you"
Janus let go of him and kept walking very very quickly to try and distract from his red cheeks and heavy breathing. That was flirting right??? He had flirted??? He had done it??? He'd flirted??? The little voice in his head that he was starting to think was his self confidence trying to break through to him would be so proud!!!
“So would you perhaps like an ice cream in these trying times?” Logan asked. He was walking with his hands clasped behind his back.
“Oh right I would definitely love something high calorie that would just make me even more gross”
“Somehow your thick layer of sarcasm was the part of that sentence with the least falsehood in it. We can share one? Or if you get uncomfortable eating desserts in front of other people we don’t have-”
“SNAKE!” Janus interrupted him.
He ran out into the grass of the park and hunched down to gently pick up a slippery snake. It was small enough to keep in one hand. He was repeatedly hitting his other arm against his leg and putting his fingers in uncomfortable positions.
Logan happily sat down next to him. Janus ungraciously shoved the snake right up near his face.
“It’s a baby northern watersnake! It’s not venomous I promise. It hunts fishes in the water. Isn’t that cool? It’s also one of the few species that doesn’t lay eggs! It can even put out musk to protect itself!! It’s so-”
He realized how much he was ranting and immediately forced himself to stop. He stopped his arm as well. He was so annoying.
“I apologize. Sometimes I just run my mouth and I do these stupid motions”
Logan boped his nose “The only stupid thing about that is you assuming I wouldn’t want to hear you rant. Or see you....stim...? I literally flapped my hands 5 minutes ago. I do not judge”
Janus shrugged at the stim question “My mother did always say that my father has adhd but that was in an insulting way. When I have done research on adhd I relate to a lot of it but it’s not like I have a diagnosis or anything”
“Bitchass mother” Logan mumbled under his breathe “I do not have diagnosed autism either but I do still now I have it.....Besides....Not to brag but I have both a deegre in both psychology and medicine so I can basically diagnose myself anyway”
Jan was already too overwhlemed to ask how the hell he had had the time for 2 bachelors deegre only to end up at a library.
“Anyhow we don’t have to talk about psychology...now...............maybe one day though” Logan did a little robotic evil laugh “For now maybe you can infodump about that snake, then we can get a shared ice cream and then I can infodump about glorious star trek. How’s that for a plan?”
His crush took a deep breathe before nodding. He stood up and cupped the snake in his hands. “You want to go to the pond don’t you little guy? Want to hunt and murder a few fishes don’t you?”
He turned to Logan and shuly said a few more facts while they went to the pond. He patted the snake on it’s head before carefully setting it down among the plants at the water’s edge.
The friends sat in silence for a few minutes, watching the snake as it looked for prey. (Though Logan spent most of the time adoring Janus’).
When the snake caught a small fish and swallowed it whole Janus broke out in happy flaps. He let out a happy squeal while pointing at it. Logan nodded back at him. He mimicked his flapping.
He’d never seen Janus’ smile that brightly. Logan took his hand. Intertwining their fingers. They stimmed together until Lo pulled in his hand making his crush stumble into him.
Jan sat with his head leaned against his chest. He looked up at Logan with blushing red cheeks. He forced himself to move back even if he didn’t want to.
“Sorry”
“No need” The nerd assured.
He stood up and held out his hand to help Janus up. They didn’t let go of each other’s hands as they walked towards the ice cream shop.
“To piss off homophobes” Janus lied up the explanation while motioning for their hand holding.
“Of course”
They ordered a scoop of lemon ice cream and sat down by the tables outside. Janus had taken off his gloves. Their hands laid on top of each other.
“Do you also have that experience where” Logan stopped to take a bite of ice cream “You categorize your life into what you were hyperfixated on at the time? For example I remember that when I met Patty I was into Doctor Who and right before then I was enjoying Sherlock Holmes”
Janus shrugged. He didn’t want to say that he had a hard time even remembering most of his life clearly “I can see the Doctor influence” He nodded towards his tardis sweater.
Logan’s eyes lit up “Oh have you seen it??? The ninth and fifth doctors are my favorite! Though as a bi man I can not ignore David Tennants’ everything”
“I have seen exactly 0″
“Well that is not a problem that can not be fixed! When I met Patty she hadn’t either- maybe because we were 12- but I show-”
Janus choked on his ice cream “12? Oh wow. For some reason I had assumed you were older”
“Oh no. She moved towns and started in my class. It was almost love at first sight. I stole flowers from my neighbor and invited her to see the movie everyone in town was talking about....Kung fu panda”
He broke out into a laugh.
“Don’t laugh at me Janny! It was an incredibly tactical decision. You see I knew she liked animals and the kung fu panda is a panda”
Janus doubled over the table while continuing to laugh “Me throwing popcorn at myself during my first hangout almost seems cool in conparison”
“Popcorn is usually hot. Not cooled down” Logan corrected. “Though to be honest the start of our relationship was sort of what you can call a ‘mess’ since as you already know both of us were foolish enough to think Patty was a guy. So suddenly I had to come to terms with liking guys. Until she told me she was a girl. So then I was straight. Until I met Thomas but that is a whole different story. It was like some people say a rollercoaster”
“Am I rude for finding that funny?”
“Yes incredibly and frankly you should be dragged to the guillotines right now”
Janus leaned closer to him with a sly smile on his face “Aw ~darling~ I didn’t know you could be sassy”
Logan did his best to hide how the nearly choked on his own spit “Yes I can indeed be if I want to. Just like how I have been able to have adequate facial expressions and voice tones and also eye contact during our whole hangout. Normally I only have a lot of expressions and tones if I am talking about hyperfixations or my wife”
“You don’t have to do that around me”
“Really? It does take a lot of energy to try and appear ‘normal’ but I was afraid of coming across as rude”
“Darling I find you lovely either way” Janus was going to pour up the biggest glass of fucking wine when he got home. He was a flirting machine!
“Oh okay” Logan relaxed his shoulders and started looking at a point right next to his shoulder instead of at his eyes. “Want to hear about Star trek the next generation? It’s the one with Data in it”
Janus squeezed his hand “I definitely have a very good idea about who that person is. Yes please tell me”
Logan went on a very very long infodump which Janus happily listened to (and did his best to reply to even though he didn’t know much). He was sure he would never get tired of hearing him talk. The ice cream nearly melted because they were both too busy with what he had to say.
“-And that is why the poetry actually have significance” Logan concluded after nearly half an hour.
“Well that sure sounds like an interesting series”
“I can show you it? Soon? I have it all on dvd”
“It’s a date- I uh I mean like planned thing not like romantic I mean-” Janus babbled out.
“I am aware of what you meant” He checked his watch “It is probably a good time for me to depart. It’s my turn on laundry today. I will get to categorize socks!”
“Wow. Sounds like a party”
Logan excitedly nodded. He stood up. Janus did as well. They looked down at their still connected hands. Jan was about to let go and simply leave but to his surprise Logan pulled him into a hug.
He leaned down and moved his arms around Janus’ waist. In return Jan quickly stood up on his toes and buried his head into his love’s shoulder. He breathed in his scent. Coffee and strawberry jam. He closed his eyes, taking in the moment.
“Janus, You are so special to me” Logan murmured while holding onto him as hard as he could.
“I- I love- I love being around you” He whispered back. Too afraid to say the truth.
Logan tried to memorise the way it felt to have him this close before letting go and taking a step back “Well I will see you tomorrow then”
“Can’t wait!”
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RP meme from Werewolf: The Apocalypse "Black Furies" Tribebook (Revised Version) Ch 2 "Pegasus’ Flight"
"But how can you be here?"
"I’m sorry. I’m easily sidetracked. Where was I?"
"Every day the possibility exists that you will find some great treasure — a companion, a fetish, riches, secrets or whatever is important to you."
"Divine justice is not something that can be safely left in the hands of mortal men and women — or even certain sky goddesses, as Athena’s blindness showed."
"While limits and strictures are frightening to many, I take peace knowing that purposes exist for all things."
"The problem comes when limits become absolute."
"It’s a human mind-twister — and I love mind-twisters — that the only rule to which there is no exception is that there’s an exception to every rule."
"I said before I love mind-twisters, but it’s good to know when to stop twisting your mind."
"Change hurts."
"The questions do not always need to be answered, often just asking them is enough."
"If they lead only to more questions or to simple answers (I remember well learning the answer to “What do bees smell like?”), then that also is learning and therefore good."
"Laughter doesn’t have to be mirthful; it can be bitter or rueful as well."
"How many of these stories actually happened?"
"Take from a story the wisdom that is in it; one of humanity’s biggest problems, I think, is that many of them take their legends too seriously."
"Contemplation is good, but too much of it causes the topic to become irrelevant."
"Beautiful, isn’t it?"
"The average first-time mother can expect an ordeal of fourteen hours."
"Everyone agrees that breast milk is best for babies; doctors, researchers, pharmaceutical companies, and parenting gurus."
"I am sorry for your discomfort, but you can just suffer through it a bit longer."
"A woman’s sexuality is hers, and can be a closely guarded secret or a gift to the world, as she chooses."
"Only the weak deserve pity."
"And yet we’re still spit on as often as not. Unfair, isn’t it?"
"Sex and childbearing is all about responsibility."
"There is no honor in blood for blood’s sake."
"These assaults take place far from the eyes of humanity, and the large-scale ones are most frequently mistaken for natural disasters."
"First, while faith might be eternal, religion must evolve."
"The world is often random, and believing it to be loving and fair is just as false as believing it to be cruel."
"They aren’t thieves, mind you; they just seem to know where to find things."
"I’m quite sure you’ve heard it all. Stay awake and listen again. This is important stuff, you know."
"That kind of cruelty doesn’t really help anyone, does it?"
"Note that there’s a big difference between “breeding” and “having sex.”
"My opinion has always been that announcing one’s presence and intentions when entering another’s territory is polite and proper behavior."
"A predator sees any encroachment on her territory as a threat. If the intruder nears her den, expect her to become very violent."
"If you enter another’s territory and announce yourself, that doesn’t mean you can stay. The one who lives there can still tell you to leave, and you should respect her wishes."
"Be careful when traveling."
"Look, we’ve all got anger control problems. It’s part of who we are."
"If you’re hurt, quit."
"Die to be a hero if you want, but don’t die to prove you were right."
"When the challenge is over, when the winner is declared, accept the ruling and live with it."
"Challenges are serious business — never initiate one without good cause."
"Do not look away. I hardly need to explain what that will lead to."
"We all know why it isn’t good to eat humans; for one thing, their flesh is fouled by the chemicals they eat, and for another, we’re meant to protect and avenge them, not prey upon them."
"If it becomes necessary to kill humans, do so, but remember that you are what you eat."
"From the face you’re making, I can assume you find the notion of cannibalism to be truly repulsive."
"Find other ways to hide your action."
"The problem is that humans are resilient and tenacious, especially in fear or hatred."
"Sometimes, however, we must let go."
"When the time comes for me to die, assuming, of course, that I do not die in battle, I shall walk into the sea and let the waves take me on my last journey."
"They can’t be challenged if no one can find them."
"I’m not saying that the system is corrupt, only that it could be."
"Such a small place, yet so many differing cultures!"
"Any biologist will tell you that you may measure how well an area thrives by the diversity of life it supports."
"Women are, on average, not as physically strong as men. This means that they sometimes need protection. I hardly need to tell you who should provide it."
"Unless I missed a major theological event, there haven’t been any immaculate conceptions recently."
"No matter your personal feelings on men, they are and always have been one half of the equation."
"A man is not evil simply by dint of his sex; to believe so is no better than calling women “the weaker sex.”
"Weak people produce more weak people, and since humans have virtually no method of natural selection, it is up to us to try to correct their weaknesses as best we can."
"Something is urging the citizens towards these evils, for I cannot believe that they did this themselves."
"The idiot humans continue to think that if they could just clear away the trees, they’d have wonderful land for agriculture, never once realizing that it’s the forest itself that preserves the land."
"Tell me why you think you could do better."
"So many believe the courts will do nothing — and if their attackers are rich and privileged enough, that is sadly true."
"Celebrities and advertisements show thin and unhealthy looking women being adored and generally enjoying life. So, young girls are made to feel abnormal and loathe their bodies."
"The Church decries sexuality for any reason but procreation — and women learn to fear their sexual power."
"Time may dull the memory, but we still have blood on our claws."
"It’s harsh, but good exercise."
"Don’t let their foul behavior and mannerisms fool you. These bumpkins and slum-dwellers have contacts all over the city. I avoid them when possible, but when I am left with no other choice and need information in the city, I go to them. Of course, that information does not come cheaply."
"Some of them can get a little corny at times, I admit, but I’d rather have them with us than against us."
"A more serious bunch of assholes was never born."
"They are reprehensible dogs."
"They have money, they have places to stay, they know good places to party, and they have access to guns, and explosives, and body armor, and — well, you get the idea."
"They have a lot of hate, and the near-extinction of their species isn’t something that one just gets over."
"No one ever identifies herself as “evil.”
"You will get far more than you bargained for."
"Most national leaders are ridiculed without mercy, because every mistake they’ve ever made is on display for the world to see."
"Too much time spent mucking with forces beyond their control taints these people, if you ask me."
"Bloody opportunists."
"I’m not going to say they planned it that way, but they sure didn’t stop it either."
"Sure, they got fucked, but they’re still assholes."
"A quaint story, I thought, no more than a sort of urban legend."
"However, they do learn many secrets that we miss. Getting them to give up these secrets, however, is usually more trouble than it’s worth."
"Maybe they aren’t all dead?"
"Greek myths are replete with dragons; Ladon, Typhon, Python, Hydra, and so forth. They are never cast in favorable roles; most of them only exist for a hero to kill."
"I’ve never liked practical jokes, and I don’t like the notion of pushing someone’s buttons just to teach them not to respond. You can lose your head doing that to the wrong person."
"Other creatures share the unseen world with us, and it would behoove you to know something about them."
"The spirits of the dead do not always rest easily."
"The dead aren’t staying in the ground."
"Some of them are complete pigs, so I’m told, but even so, they can be quite seductive."
#rp meme#rp memes#rp starters#roleplay starters#roleplay meme#roleplay memes#black furies#Werewolf the Apocalypse#wta#owod#World Of Darkness
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Kobayashi’s Maid Dragon S2 Episode 2 Notes
Here’s some notes for episode two, too, if you’d care to join me.
The “stay quiet” here is 大人し[い] otonashii, which takes the word for “adult” and adjectivizes it. It’s a common word with a variety of meanings, such as when something is “behaving” properly and not raising a fuss (from children to computer code to a chronic disease to political forces, all sorts of things) or when something comes across as “mature” (like a clothing design or a young person).
In this case the idea is that the dragons had chosen to “behave” and mind their own business, which (they seem to assume) led the humans into underestimating them and deciding to attack. (”Stay quiet” probably does a pretty good job of getting that across, but just to fill it out.)
This is 残念ながら zannen nagara, or “unfortunately...”.
The reason I bring it up here, is that it’s not a particularly intimate way of speaking and leans somewhat formal—potentially implying Ilulu has no more close relatives left to give her this news (and/or maybe her family’s social position is one where other dragons had to treat them with respect).
The second line here is 平常心を保つよ、私は, which is a fairly strong declaration of intent. I kind of feel like “I need to keep a clear head” sounds less confident, like convincing herself “ok bad situation, but if I just do this I’m fine.” In contrast, the Japanese imo is more of a “[Ilulu can do what she may,] but it won’t get it to me either way.” Just a mild point of characterization I suppose.
Just for clarity, she does use the word 雄 osu here, which is the more biological term for “in a sexually reproducing species, the one that produces sperm,” rather than a more gender-based term.
The TV show, シャシャシャシャキーン Sha-sha-sha-shakiin, is a combo reference to irl Saturday-morning kids’ variety show じゃじゃじゃじゃ～ン Ja-ja-ja-jaaN and weekday-morning シャキーン! Shakiin!.
The former’s name comes from the Japanese equivalent of ta-dah!, while the latter’s comes from the ”sound” for becoming alert, going from relaxed/sleepy/bored/etc. to “wide awake let’s go.” (though not necessarily sleep/wake related)
If you’ve seen these two emoji:
(´・ω・｀) (｀・ω・´)
The one on the right is the “シャキーン” one, and is the contrast to the gloomy one on the left (ショボーン shobon). Or these, going from asleep to awake:
( ˘ω˘ )ｽﾔｧ… (｀・ω・´) ｼｬｷｰﾝ
In manga and stuff you’ll also see it used for e.g. someone drawing/brandishing a sword, striking a cool poses with a lens flare, things like that.
I think it gets translated to metallic-y sounds in English fairly often in those cases (like drawing a katana, or a mecha pose), hence the translation above.
The verb for “frolic” here is じゃれる jareru (no relation to jajaan above), which is like to play/mess around, typically in a physical sense. For example it’s used in the compound word じゃれ合う jareau, which is often used in the same way English might say “playful wrestling” about kids or animals.
Though the word Kobayashi uses is actually a different じゃれる compound, じゃれつく jaretsuku, which is like playfully/affectionately grabbing/cuddling up/etc., (also primarily regarding kids or animals). There’s a bit of overlap with some of the uses of あまえる amaeru mentioned in the last episode’s notes.
Assuming I had the visuals, I’d probably just write this as “Please not on my lap...” or similar. (Kobayashi also uses a different verb conjugation for Tohru vs. Kanna in this scene, ~つくな vs. ~つかないで; Kanna’s being more plead-y compared to Tohru’s more “cut it out!” feel, hence the “please.”)
“Contact” here is “skin-ship,” a portmanteau-esque combination of skin and kinship or relationship. It’s primarily a Japanese word (you won’t find it in English dictionaries typically), but it was apparently coined by an American speaker at an international WHO seminar in 1953 (from which a Japanese attendee brought it back to Japan and it was later popularized).
The original use of the word was in reference specifically to parent-child physical intimacy, but as it became more widespread in usage the meaning extended to all sorts of relationships, from the platonic to the romantic.
One reason, presumably, that the term caught on so powerfully in Japan is that it has historically been a very touch-adverse culture (at least compared to say the US), and this extends even to parents with their children after the first few years. You’d see (and still see) psychologists recommend “more skinship” to people, for example.
The relative lack of skinship may partially explain the head pat thing mentioned in last episode’s notes (e.g. when you want to touch your kid, but hugs aren’t on the menu) and things like the old “hand-holding is lewd” meme. (Note this isn’t just me getting all orientalist here; there’s been a good bit of research on the skinship gap, and how it may be shrinking, by Japanese scholars.)
This line is also a bit of foreshadowing that Tohru has realized Kobayashi’s... situation already.
The Japanese here is 心と心でつながった後は体ですよ, which I only really mention because I kinda felt like the English’s “Now...” implied she was saying they only recently ‘connected their hearts,’ which I don’t feel from the Japanese wording and would say is probably not how Tohru thinks. E.g. more of a “Our hearts are already connected; now it’s time for our bodies!” kinda thing.
This 3/3 is March 3rd, which “equals” ♀ because that’s the date of Hinamatsuri, sometimes also referred to as Girl’s Day. The third day of the third month was originally a holiday brought over with the Chinese calendar, and it morphed from a more spring/peaches holiday into it’s more girl-oriented version at some point in the Edo period.
One of the highlights of Hinamatsuri is the doll displays, as pictured in this short bit with the Saikawa sisters. There are various types of displays, but this sort of staircase arrangement is the most common I believe. Each level has a certain type of doll that goes on it, with the top level having an “emperor” and an “empress” doll—which is the pair Riko replaces with dolls of herself and Kanna.
There’s some similarities between these doll displays and stereotypical Christmas trees: a family is likely to have a set of ornaments/dolls they mostly reuse each year, you put them up some time in advance of the actual holiday, then get lazy and leave them up too long put them away for a year after it’s over. A lot of businesses and such will put up displays as well.
“The judge in the underworld” is left vague here and isn’t a specific reference to anything, but is generally in line with the typical “image” of what happens after you die (setting aside actual religious beliefs) in Japan.
Please see the documentary series Hoozuki no Reitetsu for more info.
As of right now in the anime, Ilulu has only shown up twice, and only once of those when Kobayashi was alone. The implication seems to be that there have been other Ilulu encounters that we haven’t seen.
Also, for clarity, the Japanese is 私が一人の時にいつもイルルは来るから, which is more of a “whenever I’m alone Ilulu shows up” than a “she only shows up when I’m alone.” (The English could sorta be read either way I think?)
This bit is それだけじゃないって、争い以外もあると思ってくれているからだ。私はそんなトールを信じているから… だからその為にイルルと和解したい
The main point of contention I have with this English is that it implies Kobayashi wants Tohru and Ilulu to make up. However, I’d say this is more Kobayashi wanting to come to terms with Ilulu herself (and just by extension Tohru/the other dragons/maybe other humans).
That is, by making peace between herself the human and the “hostile” dragon Ilulu, she’d be helping prove Tohru’s belief correct—and she has faith in Tohru that it is (see also last season finale).
(Notably while Tohru is Chaos faction herself, there’s not really been another Chaos dragon yet to be convinced like this. Kanna is no-faction, Fafnir is technically no-faction even if Chaos-ish, Quetzalcoatl is an observer, Elma is Harmony, and Tohru’s father is an exception on multiple levels.)
Without getting too deep into the “why,” one quick thing I’ll point out is that she says 和解したい wakai shitai, not してほしい shite hoshii or させたい sasetai etc., meaning it’s something she wants to do herself, not want/make someone else do. Generally speaking you can’t use the ~たい “want to” form for anyone but yourself (you don’t know what anyone else is thinking, after all), unless quoting them, asking, or in the ~がる “seems to want to” form.
This is a 防犯ブザー bouhan buzaa, a crime-prevention buzzer, also known as a personal or self-defense alarm. They emit a very loud sound when activated. The idea is you, well, use it like she does here, when someone is trying to do a crime to you.
Since most Japanese children walk to school, it’s extremely common for these devices to given to students (either by parents or a gov’t body). It’s technically recommended for adults to carry them too, though the advent of the mobile phone has driven down carry rates.
This particular one was probably purchased in episode four of season one, if you want to rewatch and see why!
This is 私にぶつけたい気持ちでもあるの？in the Japanese.
The verb for “tell” is ぶつける butsukeru, an evocative word meaning ~to slam against (somewhat similar to “vent” in English when used with emotions/feelings).
The “something” is 気持ち kimochi, ~emotion/feeling/thought.
So the Japanese here feels a lot more expressive than "something you want to tell me,” I would say (that could just as easily be a translation of 話したいこと). That said it’s not an easy thing to express in English within the confines of the format here, especially if you want to keep the “target = ‘me’” part.
It might feel somewhat like “You got something bottled up you wanna hit me with?”, though I doubt if I’d use that either.
As a side note, the manga has Kobayashi say an extra line after this, about being the “main tank” to take her “hate” (Japanese for “aggro” in MMOs).
A small note that “that girl and that boy” is あの子とあの子 ano ko to ano ko, so no gender specification in the Japanese (it’s a good language for talking about people without specifying a gender!).
“Next time” here is 今度 kondo, which is an interesting word because you can situationally use it for “recently,” “this time,” “next time,” or “soon.”
The reason I bring it up here is the English “next time,” personally, leaves me thinking “Was there a previous time? What ‘next’ do you mean?”—just a heads up that that’s not really an issue in the original line.
Also: this whole extended scene with Kobayashi saving Ilulu is one of the “many senses” mentioned in the episode title. (see also episode one notes re ikemen)
As an aside, this "play” is じゃれ合い jareai, the noun form of the jareau that was mentioned in the above “frolic” note.
If you were wondering: “Do dragons use paper?”, the word here is 形骸化 keigai-ka, (almost) lit. ~reduced to bones, meaning something that once was strong/effective is now basically just a formality. It’s similar to the phrase “dead letter” in reference to old laws that aren’t really enforced anymore.
So two potential points of ~lore relevance~ here: 1) the rules probably used to be enforced, 2) we have no evidence (either way, from this) that they actually have them on paper somewhere.
こりゃトールの父ちゃんは本格的に優しかったみたいだな
This might just be me reading too much into the English (again), but one difference in nuance between these two lines is that the English has Kobayashi implying Tohru’s dad “seemed” kind (which implies he’s not really kind, just kind in contrast to this villain), while the Japanese is more taking this as evidence that Tohru’s dad was actually being kind (see also last season finale).
For those wondering if the みたい in that line would imply a “seems”: it sort of does, but it applies across the whole observation here. I.e. “seems Tohru’s father was genuinely nice” vs. “making Tohru’s father seem genuinely nice” (which I’d guess would probably use 優しく見えてくる or something).
When you see “underestimate” in anime, most of the time it’s なめる nameru. It comes from the verbified archaic adjective 無礼し nameshi, meaning a combination of looking down on, acting rude towards, etc., and uses the same characters as “rude” (though often written in hiragana/katakana).
It also is a homonym of the verb “to lick,” so “Don’t underestimate humans” sounds identical to “Don’t lick humans.”
“Functional member of society” is 社会人 shakaijin, ~lit. person of society, which is a very commonly used word to refer to basically anyone who is an active member of society. It includes homemakers, so it’s not strictly “has a job at a company,” but in many contexts it’s used like “people with jobs” versus “students and NEETs.”
(Not that there’s anything wrong with the translation, just some extra context.)
A technique reminiscent of this shadow puppet silhouette style was also used in Hyouka, another Kyoani show and one directed by the late Series Director Takemoto Yasuhiro.
I kind of feel like yelling “Stay with me!” at someone injured is something you do when they’re in danger of fading away, not when they’re waking back up? Maybe that’s just me.
The Japanese is お気を確かに o-ki wo tashika ni, a polite (since Tohru almost always speaks kinda formally to Kobayashi, as part of the maid thing) way of saying “pull/hold it together,” and is used in a variety of situations.
Kanna’s line is a question (e.g. like “are you okay?”) in the Japanese here, whereas the English sounds more like something you say to someone who’s injured to try to reassure them.
This line is その子離れようとしないんです sono ko hanareyou to shinai n desu.
The English is a pretty literal translation: hanareru is the verb for leaving/separating (in some senses), and the ~you conjugation means “try to ~”. However, that conjugation also has a second use in just indicating intent—especially when used in the negative, like here—so e.g. “She didn’t want to leave your side,” or “She wouldn’t leave your side at all.”
（◎Д◎）
Just in case: this is an emoji for expressing shock.
One thing that is left out of the English in this line is the だけ dake, “only.”
So Kobayashi’s not necessarily surprised at this by itself, but in contrast to the fact that Tohru says she probably can hide her claws/tail (so why not this too?).
The base phrase Tohru is saying here is 私たちの仲じゃないですか, which roughly means “that’s just our relationship,” and is used commonly when being thanked for doing a favor for someone close. It’s similar in meaning to something like “hey of course, no problem, I know you’d do the same for me.”
Tohru puts a little spin on it by adding the “eternal” to make it 永遠の仲, which is a separate phrase that means probably what you’d think it means.
This quick cut to Tohru’s feet and the light “foot pop” motion... I have a hard time believing it’s anything but the director trying to give some subtle “goodbye kiss when leaving for work” vibes, even if they aren’t literally kissing. Just me?
Here she says あのトール ano Tohru, lit. “that Tohru,“ which in this sort of context carries a meaning similar to using an italicized “that” in English: not just any Tohru, but that Tohru, the famous one. The implication is that yes indeed Tohru is well-known among other dragons—and known to be quite strong and merciless.
It’s not a particularly big deal, but technically this is 人間と, i.e. Living with.
The ball hands thing is generally thought of as “Doraemon hands” in Japan. Doraemon gets the name from the food “dorayaki,” but “Dora” is also how you pronounce the first two syllables in “Dragon” (ドラゴン doragon).
Keep this in mind.
挨拶 (あいさつ) aisatsu, often translated as “greeting(s)”, is a lot bigger of a thing culturally for Japan than it might be for where you live. Though translated as “greetings” it also includes farewells and more. Basically a general term for “in X situation, say Y” style semi-set phrases.
In more traditionally minded companies, for example, employees are often expected to give a rote ohayou gozaimasu when they arrive (even if they think no one is around to hear it), and may get chewed out for not doing so or half-assing it. Then when passing someone in the hallway etc., an otsukare-sama desu, and yet another phrase when leaving for the day. Also the ittekimasu and itterasshai (when leaving home/saying bye to them) or tadaima and okaeri (returning home/welcoming back) that probably many anime-watchers are familiar with. Even itadakimasu is an aisatsu.
Obviously every culture utilizes “greetings” like this, but in Japan they’re pretty heavily ritualized and treated as a cornerstone of human relations, a key part of showing respect for your fellow humans (even people you hate!) and ensuring the smooth working of society. It’s not the thing they chose to have Tohru put first in her “living with humans [in Japan]” notebook for nothing!
The English “the” is a popular word to use in Japanese as an intensifier, similar to how it’s used in a sentence like “this isn’t just an [example], it’s the [example]!”
It’s usually pronounced “za” and often written that way in katakana (ザ) for this usage. (If you type “za” in a Japanese IME, most will offer up “the” as one of the options to convert the text to, even.)
The word she says here is 喝 katsu, which, in this sense, is a stereotypical thing for a Zen teacher to say to a student as a stand-in for explaining some deep Zen concept that words can’t describe. So here, it’s kinda like “Yes this may seem contradictory, but really it’s just too complicated for you! No more questions!”
Obviously that’s oversimplified and it’s used in other ways too (see Saikawa’s father during the sports festival), but just for the purposes of this joke, there you have it.
The word used in the Japanese here is 建前 tatemae. If you’ve ever studied any Japanese, you’ve likely heard about honne vs. tatemae, your inner feelings vs. the front you put up for social reasons.
People new to the language are sometimes prone to approaching that distinction with “well why doesn’t everyone just honne all the time, why play games?”, but of course almost everyone splits themselves like this. You probably hate your boss, but you also probably don’t tell them that to their face to avoid getting fired. Or maybe you have some family members you can’t stand, but act nice around anyway because it’s not worth the trouble to start fights.
Japan just put names to the idea, and maybe leans a little more toward encouraging tatemae in more situations.
This is せいぜい悩むんですね.
せいぜい seizei as an adverb means doing something to utmost extent one is capable of. You’ve likely heard it from a villain somewhere saying something like “Struggle all you like, wahaha!”.
Though it’s not necessarily down-talky like that, in modern times that is the trend (you can use it for yourself no problem, but if used to talk about someone else’s actions it may come off as belittling). Tohru, as one of the strongest beings in the setting and with the pride to match, uses it a lot.
悩む nayamu is to worry, fret, ruminate over (some difficulty etc.).
The sentence in general is one that is highly context dependent, but here it’s Tohru thinking to herself, somewhat impressed, that Ilulu is actually putting serious thought into the question of what she wants to do with her life.
And, as the background suggests, finding it surprisingly adorable/admirable; up until just a few days ago, Ilulu was known as one of the most extremist Chaos faction dragons obsessed with nothing but destruction, yet look at her now. In a way, Tohru’s taken over an older sister kind of role for her.
(For the curious, if the ね was dropped or swapped to a よ here, that would imply she was directing the comment “at” Ilulu, rather than saying it in observation.)
The word here is 契る chigiru, which usually means to swear/pledge (e.g. swear a pact, pledge your love), but can also be a somewhat fancy word for having sex, especially of a married couple.
I feel like I personally would have used more of a euphemism for the translation.
The phrase here is ダメの助 dame-no-suke, where dame is no/bad/can’t do/useless, and (no)suke is a common ending to first names; both actual names and sort of on-the-spot nicknames; someone looking sleepy might be called a 寝坊助 nebou-suke in the same way as “sleepyhead.”
Or, as here, sticking to the end of things for comedic effect or as indication of a panicked/confused thought process.
（ ° ρ ° ）
Just in case: this one is also expressing shock, but a kind of dumbfounded shock. The ρ is a drooling, slack-jawed mouth.
In the next episode preview they talk about where Ilulu will sleep, since they don’t have room for another bed. Ilulu wants to sleep in the closet—or more specifically, the 押し入れ oshi-ire, which is a particular closet layout you’ll find in many Japanese bedrooms.
The typical difference is that an 押し入れ was originally designed for 和室 washitsu, traditional-style Japanese rooms with tatami floors, primarily as storage space for folded-up futon/blankets/pillows, as you would put those away during the day to free up space. Thus they typically are rather wide, mildly deep, and have a waist-height, solid horizontal divider capable of supporting a lot of weight.
They actually are pretty okay for sleeping in if you’re not claustrophobic or tall.
Anyway, I bring this up because you know who else very famously sleeps in one of these? That’s right: Doraemon.
#maidragon#kobayashi's dragon maid#kobayashi-san chi no maid dragon#miss kobayashi's dragon maid#anime#translation notes#season 2
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Ecofascism isn't new: white supremacy and exterminism have always lurked in the environmental movement
It's easy to think of climate denial as a right-wing phenomenon, but a growing and ultra-violent strain of white-nationalism also embraces climate science, in the worst way possible.
Several of the recent white nationalist mass killers have described themselves as "ecofascists" and/or have deployed ecofascist rhetoric in their manifestos. The short version of ecofascism is that it's the belief that our planet has a "carrying capacity" that has been exceeded by the humans alive today and that we must embrace "de-growth" in the form of mass extermination of billions of humans, in order to reduce our population to a "sustainable" level.
In some ways, ecofascism is just a manifestation of "peak indifference": the idea that denial eventually self-corrects, as the debt built up by a refusal to pay attention to a real problem mounts and mounts, until it can no longer be denied. Eventually, the wildfires, floods, diseases (and ensuing refugee crises) overcome all but the most dedicated forms of bad-faith motivated reasoning and self-deception, and people start to switch sides from denying science to embracing it.
But there's an ugly side to peak indifference: that denialism can give way to nihilism. As activists seek to engage people with the urgent crisis, they describe it (correctly) as an existential threat whose time is drawing nigh. Once people acknowledge the threat, it's easy for them to conclude that it's too late to do anything about it ("Well, you were right, those cigarettes did give me lung-cancer, but now that I've got it, I might as well enjoy my last few years on earth with a cigarette between my lips").
Ecofascism is a form of nihilism, one that holds that it's easier to murder half the people on Earth than it is to reform our industrial practices to make our population sustainable. Leaving aside the obvious moral objections to this posture, there's also an important technical sense in which it is very wrong: we will need every mind and every body our species have to toil for generations to come, building seawalls, accommodating refugees, treating pandemic sufferers, working in more labor-intensive (and less resource-intensive) forms of agriculture, etc. etc. The exterminst doctrine assumes that we can know before the fact which humans are "surplus" and which ones might have the insight that lets us sequester carbon, cure a disease, or store renewable energy at higher densities.
But ecofascism isn't an entirely new phenomenon. Pastoralist and environmental thinking has always harbored a strain of white supremacy (the Nazi doctrine of Lebensraum was inextricably bound up with an environmental ideology of preserving habits from "excess" people -- as well as the wrong kind of people, whose inferior blood made them poor stewards of the land.
The connection between eugenics and environmentalism runs deep. One of the fathers of ecofascist thought is Madison Grant, who worked with Teddy Roosevelt to establish the US system of national parks, and also to establish a whiteness requirement for prospective US immigrants. This thread of thinking -- that there are too many people, and the wrong people are breeding -- carries forward with the environmental movement, with figures like John Tanton, who started his career as a local Sierra Club official, but went on to found the Federation for American Immigration Reform and co-found the Center for Immigration Studies, warning Americans to defend against a coming "Latin onslaught," revealing himself to be a full-blown white nationalist who is revered today as the ideological father of the ecofascist movement.
Meanwhile, the eco-left kept having its own brushes with xenophobia. In the early 2000s, the Sierra Club underwent an internecine struggle to reform its official anti-immigration stance and purge the white nationalists and xenophobes from its ranks. In the early 2010, Earth First had to oust co-founder Dave Foreman as his pro-environmental activism was overtaken by his anti-immigrant activism, with splinter groups like "Apply the Brakes" taking hard lines on borders and immigration.
Today, the ecofascist movement is closely aligned with the Trump administration, through links to Steven Miller and Jeff Sessions. The former executive director of FAIR is now serving as Trump's citizenship and immigration services ombudsman. Ann Coulter demands that Americans choose between either "greening or browning" their future. Richard Spencer wraps white nationalism in green rhetoric, and Gavin McInnes has directly linked environmentalism to anti-immigration ideology.
Pushing back against this are two complementary strains of environmental thought: the bright greens who see democratically managed, urbanized, high technology as the way through the climate crisis (dense cities enable a circular economy, heal the metabolic rift, and leave more land free for habitat and carbon-sequestering trees); and the climate justice movement, which recognizes that poor, racialized people are the least responsible parties for carbonization, and the most vulnerable to the climate emergency, and emphasizes climate remediation steps that are led by, and responsive to, the priorities of indigenous people and the Global South.
https://boingboing.net/2019/08/19/grand-lorax.html
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Crowley’s Truth and Aziraphale’s Lies (A 3-part series) Part 1: Crowley’s Heartbreaking Honesty
So I could do a whole series about why Crowley (in all his piety) is fallen and Aziraphale (in all his temptations) is not. However, I wanted to focus this series strictly on the use of honesty and lies throughout Good Omens. I argue that honesty (and the irony of an honest Demon and a lying Angel) is a tool for establishing their place in-between Heaven and Hell. They serve as hybrids, a liminal space between holy and hellish, allowing for their supposed “flaws” to shine, and enable them to form their own side.
Crowley’s Motivation:
One of Crowley’s defining traits is his imagination. Unlike any other celestial entity, he can create ideas, questions, and fabrications at a moment’s notice. Crowley’s no Saint, he lies to Hastur easily (about calling the demonic counsel), he impersonates Aziraphale stunningly, and (if Aziraphale recalls correctly) he takes credit for all of the horrendous things humanity has done throughout the years (even earning himself some commendations along the way). So he CAN lie, quite well actually, so long as he has the proper motivation.
And, without fail what IS his motivation? Who (or what) inspires him and allows him to focus his thoughts even when he’s panicking (and possibly trying his best to cope with his piles of trauma)? Certainly not humanity alone, and certainly not because he has any sense of self-preservation. The man ran into a burning building head first without a second thought; he drove his beloved car through literal hellfire; he walked across consecrated ground despite being burned simply because he told himself he could. No, he there’s only 1 thing that motivates him.
Aziraphale (of course)
Crowley: Would I Lie To You?
Crowley lies at least 5 notable times throughout the series.
His reports about the ill-deeds he’s responsible for are riddled with lies and half-truths (which is a general fuck you Hell kind of lie)
He fails to tell the higher-ups in Hell about his knowledge about the Anti-Christ, the location of the Anti-Christ and neglected to correct Hell about it (a Fuck you Satan kind of lie)
He hides and ignores the agreement he’s made with Aziraphale from Hell (A Fuck you Heaven and Hell kind of lie)
He deceives Hastur, several times but most notably after Ligur’s death (a fuck you Hastur kind of lie, and he’s murderous so he deserves it sorta)
He Impersonates Aziraphale (An F to the U to Heaven kind of lie)
The notable exemption from this list is Aziraphale.
Unlike the demons who he deceives at any given moment (particularly in defense of Aziraphale), he refuses to lie to Aziraphale.
Are you Satan and have just “blessed” Crowley with the staring role in the Apocalypse? Yeah, great (lies through his teeth about wanting to partake).
Are you a Duke of Hell inquiring about where the Anti-Christ is and trying to confront Crowley about his relationship with Aziraphale? “So Longggg Suckaaas” I’m gonna lie lie lie and possibly kill you for coming towards me.
Are you heaven trying to torture my best friend >lover< with hellfire that will surely kill him? Not today motherfucker, because guess what? Now I’m him and I’ll lie my ass off to protect him.
Are you an Angel who shows free will and loves humanity as much as he does? 404 Error lies not found.
This is not to say he’s always straightforward with Aziraphale. because God, Satan, Someone knows he’s got a flair for the dramatic. But not even does he lie through omission. Whenever Aziraphale asks a question, no matter how light-hearted or series Crowley’s being, he will always give an honest answer, even if it sometimes goes over the angel’s head. >see: Crowley being a blubbering mess because his best friend died and Aziraphale not quite understanding that the best friend is him<
He’s also oddly cryptic when he’s asking for holy water, but never once does Crowley lie. Sure, he’s trying to speak in code “because the trees have ears”, but when he says it’s for insurance, not a suicide pill, it is for insurance.
He can tell that his relationship with Aziraphale has morphed in such a way that it would put him and Aziraphale in danger if Hell ever found out about it. Aziraphale, simply, does not believe him that his only motivation is protection because it is too close to his own fears about Crowley being destroyed.
Which is why I think he’s so upset about the word “fraternize”. First, there is a class element involved with the Victorian use of the word (usually referring to someone of a higher class interacting friendly to a lower class member). Where Aziraphale may have meant comradery (and brotherhood, which also not how Crowley views their relationship) Crowley certainly acts as if he took it to mean Aziraphale was speaking to him like an enemy or an “inferior” species.
This is only further supported by Aziraphale’s accusatory “we may have both started out as Angels, but YOU are fallen”, placing (in my opinion) too much emphasis on Crowley’s fall (a huge trauma trigger for him). But this whole characterization of their relationship is a lie Aziraphale tells himself to repress his fears about Heaven’s traumatic treatment of him. By this point in their partnership (as we’ve seen) both he and Crowley go out of their ways to treat each other as equals. To deny it, to repress their feeling is a slap. in. the. face.
Further, the audience for lying clearly matters to Crowley. In the relative privacy of the park, Aziraphale says “fraternize”, which doesn’t do enough justice for the kind of intimacy the uniquely share. It implies they could be enemies or strangers (which they aren’t, they’re at least friends). Crowley is so intimately aware that even now, in the 1800′s, it’s them (and humanity) against divinity. And, Crowley refuses to lie to Aziraphale, especially about the sort of relationship they share. Sure he won’t tell the other demons, and sure as hell won’t tell the angels how deep their relationship goes, but in this private moment, where he’s approaching as a partner (not an adversary)? It would be the worst kind of lie. It would ignore or erase the new space they’ve created for themselves where they can be equals.
In the above gif, we see Crowley angry and lash out. He says harsh words and insists that he doesn’t need Aziraphale. Since we’re counting, I don’t think this is a lie. Now no, he clearly does need Aziraphale in his life, but he’s just been smacked in the face with the insinuation that they are not equals, they are not friends, they are enemies, and I believe him at this moment, a very hurt Crowley, decides if that’s how Aziraphale is going to treat him, then he will treat him like all his other enemies. At the moment he says I think it he means it because Crowley cannot make time for someone who won’t take his concerns seriously and thinks so little of their relationship. If he can’t be seen as an equal, he’d prefer not to be seen at all.
Although, this is a temporary truth, and one Crowley is willing to correct Aziraphale about in a way he never does for his hellish counterparts. Crowley cares too deeply to wish Aziraphale any real harm, even if Aziraphale can’t call a spade a spade. Crowley sure as Hell would move heaven and earth to demonstrate the extent of his love. He shows as much in his rescue in 1941, and again when Aziraphale once again lies and says “we’re not friends...I don’t even like you” in the bandstand. These lies actively hurt Crowley but not once does he retaliate with. Instead, he meets Aziraphale with blunt honesty. Saying “yes you do” doing everything he can to get Aziraphale on the same page, and share their truth.
Look at the above gif. Not only does Crowley KNOW Aziraphale is lying, but Aziraphale knows it too. While he clearly loves Crowley and has loved Crowley for some time, his inability to work through his anxieties and rely on Crowley as a support system, as a partner, he can’t come to terms with his own trauma.
So, he lies.
He lies and he hurts Crowley. He lies and he dismisses Crowley’s honesty. He lies and he harms himself because they both know this is a facade he can’t keep up much longer. He lies, and Crowley still meets him with honesty and forgiveness.
And honestly, it breaks his heart to be lied to, but he knows the alternative solution would be no best friend at all. Under normal circumstances, Crowley could be patient. He could wait for Aziraphale to come to terms with their relationship almost for forever. But, shit hits the fan, and he needs to show Aziraphale that two of them need to stop dancing, stop being cryptic, and cut through the bullshit for once.
Which brings me to the first Gif of this section. Take a moment, scroll the ridiculous amount up, and just look at the indignation on his face. in the earlier gif “Would I lie to you?”, he clearly consciously makes a point to never lie to Aziraphale, despite it supposedly being “the demon’s way”. Not in anger (like at the bandstand) not even if it’s uncomfortable (like when he’s criticizing Aziraphale for being so clever and so stupid), not even if the angel is (knowingly or unknowingly) hurting him with his lies.
Crowley draws the line at tainting his relationship with the kind of lies Heaven tells, and the kind of disregard Hell tells. Because despite the lies he’s told by Aziraphale, Crowley knows who he can trust, who he needs on his side, who he wants to spend the end of the world with, and it sure as hell isn’t Hastur or Beelzebub.
Because at the end of the day, Crowley knows what the two of them share together. One great way to see this comparison is to checkout @theladyzephyr ‘s meta on Crowley and his glasses. Because while he does let his guard down for Aziraphale (even if only drunk), his autonomy, his consent to wear/not wear his glasses is taken from in by Hastur in the above gif’s scene. Aziraphale, for all his lies, does not cross the same boundaries as Hell does, and genuinely cares for Crowley. He shows remorse for his actions and is clearly just as hurt by his own lies as Crowley is.
A Very Crowley’s Conclusion
But what does this mean in terms of his Honesty? Well, for starters, demonstrates that while he has the power to lie, and could lie to Aziraphale (functionally I mean) he chooses not to.
He might, every now and then poke him and partake in some friendly banter, but never is it mean spirited, not even when they’re both at their breaking points. His ability to lie but restraint from lying; his ability to deceive, but his choice to trust, sets him apart from the rest of the demonic mold.
Quite honestly, He probably could tempt (like really tempt) Aziraphale to his side. He could manipulate and push the Angel into situations they both know he would be uncomfortable with. But, he doesn’t. He doesn’t become the abusive force Heaven and Hell have pushed on the two of them because that’s not how he wants or needs to cope with his loss. No, he needs an equal, not a lackey. He needs an equal, not a boss. He needs love, not control.
It becomes clear that his loyalties have never (at least not in the series) been with Hell. Crowley doesn’t trust or care about his fellow demons. He kills one (permanently) and another (not so permanently) without hesitation. He defies (actively and with little regard for the safety of other celestial creatures) the desires of Hell, working with his bestie to ensure the world breaks even.
Consequently, he’s creating a “third” option with Aziraphale. It is distinctly not a human space (neither of them is human). It’s is not heavenly or hellish, but space for them to be who they are, fight for what they love and feel safe knowing they are a team (romantic or otherwise). And it’s clear based on who he lies to and how he lies, that he’s not cut out for the Demon frenzy or the demon.
Their third space is what Crowley’s been working for since day one because Aziraphale is worth lying to others to protect and worth telling the truth to love.
Thanks for coming to my TedTalk
#ineffable husbands#good omens#go#crowley#anthony janthony crowley#crowley loves aziraphale#IT'S ALL FINE#sorrynotsorry#good omens meta#meta#long post#thanks for coming to my ted talk
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Crossed Connections: Part II
Characters: Tech x Togruta!Reader
Warnings: None
Summary: Everyone experiences exhaustion. Some handle it differently than others.
You can read the first part here
Tech swore he’d seen something as the transport had skimmed the tree line in an attempt to cruise under Separatist radar. A dark shape, springing from through the deep red treetops, attempting to keep up with the Havoc Marauder.
That’s how Hunter found himself an unwilling student to Tech’s lecture on Anaxes’ native fauna.
“Did you know fyrnocks typically roost in tree canopies? They’re almost entirely nocturnal and are incredibly light sensitive but they don’t sleep underground.”
Hunter nods vacantly, knowing that once Tech started on a topic it was best to let it run its course. Wrecker and Crosshair were both asleep in the cargo bay. It was upto one of them to keep their brain occupied while his battery wore down.
Even exhausted, Tech’s mind never seemed to slow, jumping from one topic to the next. Exhaustion only seemed to bring to surface the more obscure things he fixated on. At least he wasn’t focusing on languages this go around.
Last mission Wrecker sat with him for over two hours as he’d slipped in and out of Shyriiwook. Wrecker, never to be confused with an intellectual, had smiled and nodded to his young vod before he’d finally burned through enough energy to pass out over the ships console.
“It’s thought that the species as a whole springs from a single mother entity.” Tech looks up to see if Hunter was still listening “it’s all very fascinating.”
Tech types away at the small datapad secured to his vambrace. “There’s even some chatter about them being linked to the dark side of the Force. Can you imagine? I mean, from what I understand of the Force-“
“Tech” Hunter interrupts gruffly “save it until after debrief with Commander Cody?”
With a flip of the wrist, the younger clone closes the pad. “Of course Sarge, just thought it was interesting”
“It is but we’re all running on fumes at this point. Not sure any of it is sinking in.” He taps at his temple and Tech nods.
“Understood.”
“Plus, we’re only a few klicks away from base and I need you to organize your part of the debrief.”
Tech nods before flipping the datapad back open and beginning to splice together the data he’d collected during recon.
------
You’ve been on Anaxes for two weeks. It still felt foreign, sleeping in the depths of the caverns the base had been built in and around was seriously beginning to mess with your internal clock. No windows to show you night or day, no warming from the sun or cooling as twin moons rose into the sky. You’d never been so thankful for your chronometer. It was hard to sleep as you adjusted to the new environment. While it left you exhausted you also had yet to be late for your shifts already up before you chrono had to wake you. You’d consider it a win.
You were weary of seeing clones on the edge of death, mangled and passed off to you like they were no more than broken droids, only their brothers and a few of the generals seeming to worry about their well being. It wasn’t right. You’re heart hurt and while the other staff had either their clone brothers or other civilians to cling to you seemed to be left to your own devices, as if everyone else could just sense that you weren’t like them. Like on Kiros.
Your people believed only the strong survived. If you couldn’t keep up the Togruta left you behind. Your belief in the value of life made you an outsider within your own tribe. You believed life needn’t validate itself to matter. Simply existing in the first place gave it meaning.
It was a highly unpopular opinion.
The sheer number of casualties you saw roll in daily was another change from your post on Coruscant. Generally, by the time you’d seen the troopers there they’d been stabilized and needed supportive care. Anaxes brought you the worst of the worst straight from the front lines. The GAR was taking mass losses, entire squads destroyed in the blink of an eye without warning. You’d lost count of the number of Clones who’d taken their last breath in your presence. You’d never experienced anything like it on Coruscant and your training had done nothing to truly prepare you for the crushing feeling each loss brought to you and the rest of the medical staff.
You swish your mug around before bring it to your lips taking another swallow of caf. It had gone cold long ago, forgotten when the last emergency had rolled through the doors. You fantasized about a hot mug of it to soothe your throat. You kept up a steady stream of talk when you worked. Your patients always knew exactly what you were doing and your colleagues knew exactly what you were seeing. You’d heard some other medics comment on how annoying it was but you were never going to be accused of not communicating effectively, not when troopers lives could depend on it.
A side effect of hours of talking were often a scratchy, dry throat and a hoarseness that silenced you for the rest of the day. It was ok. Outside of the medbay you were never really sure what to say. Your confidence in your professional skill did not cross over to personal affairs.
“Y/N?” It was one of the clone medics, Kix, from the 501st. He was amiable enough and seemed easy to get along with the few times you’d worked together.
The empty mug was set aside, to be forgotten till a later time when desperation drove you to more of the swamp water that sat bubbling bitterly in the break room.
“I’ve got a squad coming in off a recon run. They’re due for a once over so the powers that be are going to send them down after debrief.” Kix looked on edge as he spoke and you cocked your head trying to figure out what he was saying between the lines.
“You want me to do it?” You knew how to do what he was asking, you just weren’t sure why he was asking you of all people.
“Uh, the boys in 99 don’t much care for other clones.”
That was a new one.
“I can do it Kix” you nod reassuringly. “Don’t worry, ok?” A knot was beginning to tangle in your stomach. You brush off the feeling and try to give the clone your most reassuring smile.
Clones that didn’t like other clones? You hadn’t heard of such a thing outside of the Coruscant Guard.
Those guys were dicks.
Kix seems relieved, running a hand over his face roughly “I owe you. I’ll have them sent over to Exam 3 when they’re done?”
“Make it 5” you correct “they’re still getting blood off the floor in 3 and 4”
-----
Crosshair is spitting mad by the time The Bad Batch is dismissed from Cody’s debrief and Tech can’t figure out why. He just had to acknowledge that pissed off was simply the sniper’s default setting. Tech figures he’s mad no one was willing to take the bait and give him the fight he was looking for.
To his left Hunter seemed as relaxed as Hunter could be, ever vigilant eyes scanning the halls as they traveled.
Per usual, Wrecker was all smiles (if maybe slightly menacing ones) as they entered the lift down to medical.
Tech was pleased. He’d been told the intel would be useful. No one had insulted anyone. No punches had been thrown. It all seemed pretty good as far as he was concerned. All they had to do now was do a quick medical check and they were good to go for at least a solid day of rest before their next assignment. he falls in behind the others while they queued into a single file in front of him, each dipping into the room in turn for their scan. Hunter is in and out before Tech can blink, same for Crosshair.
Wrecker was never the best behaved for the medical staff. He just didn't like medical. Tech couldn't blame him. Hunter and Crosshair wait for a few minutes, making sure they weren’t needed to calm the big man down, before the excuse themselves to the small barracks the four of them called home.
Tech uses the wait to browse the holonet for anything that might pique his curiosity and bookmarks a couple things to look into once he could crawl into his rack.
When Wrecker pops out of the exam room with a sucker tucked into his cheek some twenty minutes later without any shouting following him, Tech takes notice.
“It’s stormfruit, man” Wrecker hums around the sucker “I like this one” He tips his head back toward the exam room as one big mitt cuffs Tech on the shoulder, knocking him back a step as he passes by.
Tech doesn’t bother to take his helmet off when a bright voice calls “Next!”
He’s greeted by the sight of a dimpled Togruta smiling up at him from her spot on a stool.
“Hey you must be…” she glances quickly at her datapad resting on her crossed knee “Tech?”
The voice is exceedingly familiar but he doesn’t know the face as she motions to the table. His feet stutter step as he moves further in the exam room, taking a seat on the table the composite of his armor clanks loudly.
“Long day?” The medic asks and he nods, eyes narrowed as he rifles though his mental files. He knew that voice.
“You're not gonna give me trouble like the last one, right?” She starts, “it took me half a dozen lollys to convince him to let me scan him. I���m starting to think he played me, ya know?”
He nods again.
“You don’t talk much do you? Nexu got your tongue?”
Tech huffs quietly, flipping his visor up to view her without the incandescent screen in the way.
“I think you're the only person that’s ever said that.” He chuckles.
She beams at him, squinting and searching his face.
“Yeah? I won’t complain about being your first.” She teases before her cheeks, already a rich color, flush brightly. When she smiles nervously he sees the quick pearly flash of her incisors. He liked the way she smiled at him. It makes his stomach flip in a vaguely familiar way.
That’s when the data points come together. The realization hits him.
He’d often wondered what Grutababy looked like, curiosity only reaching a fever pitch after their conversation on the comms. He’d lay awake at night, while his brothers slept and try to piece together what she might look like, cursing himself for never once asking for a picture.
His mind would run through the many sentient species he was familiar with as he’d try to place the voice from their lone conversation to it it had become a game. Twi’lek, Mirialan, human… Togruta?
It makes sense now, her profile name. Grutababy. Really it shouldn’t have taken a genius level IQ to figure that out.
He watches her lekku sway gently as she moves through the room. Her skin, somewhere between red and pink, reminds him of a sunset he’d once seen on an outer rim planet, the name of which he’s since forgotten.
The white markings of her people cross from one temple to the other, circling her eye like a mask. Others travel in soft swooping lines from the outer corners of her eyes down, crossing at plump lips and fading out at her chin. A small diamond shaped mark rests above each brow.
Her eyes are a pale, icy blue. The overall effect is… stunning.
She was more beautiful than he could have ever imagined (and he’d tried).
“This may sound weird-” she hums” her fingers fumble for her scanner, nearly dropping it off the counter. Frowning, she taps it against the heel of her palm when it refuses to turn on.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Tech winces, wants to tell her that there was no evidence that treating a device like that would make it work. On the contrary it would often-
The scanner buzzes to life and a triumphant smile lights her features.
“Like, I was saying, it may sound weird. I just get the feeling….”
Tech swallows hard.
She lets out a nervous laugh and waves it off, “Nevermind, ignore me. Not enough sleep or caf and I’m imagining things”
Something akin to disappointment filters through his chest as she rubs the back of a montrail nervously. He wonders if he should tell her? She interrupts his train of thought with a deep breath and the moment has passed. She's all business now as she adjusts the scanner in her grip.
“So Trooper, how about we get your scan done and you can go get the sleep that I’m not.”
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In the magic AU you implied that violence against non-gifted wasn’t uncommon (when a wizard was angry at a non-gifted, that only meant trouble). Now I’m imagining the boys, with all their power and privilege, occasionally hear of “isolated” incidents of attacks against non-gifted among the other white noice of things that don’t concern them. They always shrug and think “so why should I care?” And go about their day. 1/2
But now they are slowly growing closer to this fiery, beautiful, amazing, non-gifted gardener who speaks to them as equals. (Not once do they recall being honestly called out for their shortsightedness. They assumed it was because they were incapable of such missteps, but she had no problem correcting that notion. It was… refreshing) and suddenly they find themselves growing fonder of her. And they care. They care very, very much 2/2
AAAAAANOOOOOOOOOOOON!!!!! YOU CAME TO SLAP ME WITH FEELS? Yes please come in, have a seat. Do you want some tea?
But here, have this. It has been sitting on my drafts quite a while, mulling over details and if I was happy with where this was going.
For now I think I am, though! Enjoy this little monster of almost 3k words! :DDD
Isolated attacks weren’t uncommon. They weren’t given many media coverage, which only helped in keeping the people unaware of such incidents.
But still, they happened.
The soft sound of music coming from the old radio filled the silence of the living room. Connor was revising some important documents he had to take home, while Richard enjoyed a well-loved book. He insisted on leaving the windows and doors open, letting the sounds of summer inside. Richard enjoyed the birds chirping on the magnificently well cared garden, the bugs joining in. He also found that he quite liked the sounds of Ona gently working over the plants and flowers, humming along the song on the radio. The soil being moved, bad sprouts cut, water cascading down the leaves, the fresh smell of wet earth…
“We are sorry to interrupt this lovely song, but we got some breaking news to deliver. Don’t worry our fellow music lovers, we won’t take too long,” the voice of the radio host took them three out of their thoughts.
Connor lifted his pen and looked at the old radio (Richard insisted on enchanting it. He liked the aesthetic); this might truly concern him. Richard stopped mid-sentence and waited. Ona kept working.
“There have been reports of a great fire burning down Oakheart High, on the non-gifted district of Frostford. There has been no casualties reported, although some minor injuries from smoke inhalation and general panic. It is suspected that the fire is of magical origin, performed by isolated individuals.” Both Connor and Richard heard Ona’s tools clatter to the ground, followed by the sound of a pot shattering into tiny pieces. “It is known there are a lot of conflicts on that area due to the proximity of the non-gifted district to the Goldcrest district. We will keep you updated.”
Music resumed as it was before. Connor and Richard shared a worried look. They heard about the confidential plans for demolishing the ‘slums’ to build new high-end residences for wizards. People were at edge, ready to jump, and this was not good news for anyone. Richard threw his book on the sofa, sprinting outside while Connor dropped the pen on the table, probably smearing ink on the documents. They came to a halt on the doorframe when they saw her standing eerily still. Ona had her hands on the workbench, head hanging low between her shoulders. Her gloved hands were squeezing into fists, the fabric protesting for the abuse. The tools remained on the floor next to the shattered pieces of ceramic mixed with fresh and healthy soil. The cheery jazz song filled the suffocating silence, but the tune felt like knives on their chests.
Connor waved his hand and turned it off.
“Ona?” Richard felt brave, taking a cautious step. He stepped on one of the broken pieces. The crunching sound resonated all over the little greenhouse, making Ona visibly flinch. Richard noticed it, knowing there was a story behind it. They couldn’t see her face, her fluffy white mane covered it, which made the brothers worry even more.
“Are you…?” ventured Connor.
“No, I’m not okay.” her voice was hoarse, as if she had a knot deep inside her throat. “How can I be okay?” Connor’s face softened to a pained expression.
Richard came to a halt next to her quivering form. He didn’t know if his touch would be welcomed right now, but he had to try. His big hand gently covered hers, squeezing lightly, and he felt her sob shatter her entire will. He took her on his arms, not minding how his clothes were getting absolutely ruined by the wet soil on her gloved hands. He could feel the warm wetness of her tears soak his shirt, her body tremble with every barely stiffed sob. Richard held her tighter, his hands rubbing soothing circles on her back while the other hand buried itself on soft curls.
Connor felt his heart squeeze painfully inside his chest. To see Ona, brave and fierce and beautiful Ona crumble like dry clay was gut-wrenching. Her determination and tenacity were enviable. She could move mountains with it, change the world, change…
Change them.
She changed them. Opened their eyes to the sheer horror they perpetuate with their laws, their lack of empathy for fellow human beings. They had to do with this, with the never-ending attacks on innocent people. Their silence was complicit. What were they afraid of? Why did they need to prove and reaffirm their supremacy? The more advanced species? Connor understood it now. It felt like a bitter revelation.
Deep down they knew that non-gifted were an unstoppable force through their sheer will. They could accomplish anything with only their brains and hands, no cheat codes, no magic to aid them.
Dear Lord, they had been such heartless imbeciles, driven by the most human emotion.
Fear.
“I’m sorry.” Came Ona’s muffled voice. She untangled herself off Richard’s chest, cheeks burning in mild embarrassment at the wetness she left there. Richard shushed her, still caressing her back.
Connor approached them with a handkerchief he summoned in his hand, offering it to her. Her tears still ran down her cheeks, unable to stop them. She took it with a barely noticeable smile. Connor felt his insides freeze painfully.
“Why don’t we get inside?” he tried, his hand softly grazing her arm. Richard nodded at him.
“C’mon, let’s take these out.” Richard gently took her gloved hands in his and pulled off the heavy gloves, dropping them on the table. She let him, not fighting his warm hands. Richard softly tugged her to follow him, Connor already inside preparing a soothing glass of cold lemonade. He knew Ona loved it in summer.
Ona left jugs and bottles full of homemade lemonade, her grandmother’s recipe, complaining about the absolute disgrace of a lemonade they bought. She somehow managed to revive the almost dead lemon tree and used it for cooking and drinks.
Connor set a glass right in front of her.
They made her sit down between them, their body heat somewhat comforting despite the hot weather. Ona took a sip.
“I…” she didn’t know where to begin. She wanted to say a lot, everything, but at the same time she wanted to curl herself up and cry. She should start somewhere, though. “I attended that school. We used to live close to the border before my mother found a better job. I remember the building as an old tattered thing, cracks on the walls, broken chairs piled up in corners, fields that saw better days… But it was our school. We grew up there, made friendships, learned about things and the world in there.” both brothers listened, eager to know more about this brilliant woman. She usually didn’t share much about her past, only tiny bits here and there. “It hurts to know it’s on fire. My school is burning, my childhood is burning!” her voice gained a painful edge, starting to lean towards rage. “But it’s… It’s not…” Ona took a deep breath.” Crudely, it’s just a building, but what fills me with despair and so much anger is the fact of knowing that there were children there. It’s still being used, it’s full of people and those… those pathetic excuses of wizards decided it’s cool to set a busy school on fire.”
It was true that the behaviour of those wizards should be punished, pursued and brought to justice. But both Connor and Richard knew how very unlikely it was for that to happen. They knew far too well the procedures of such deeds. ‘Isolated cases, unstable individuals, disturbed youths…’. The wizarding society was unable to see the mistakes they were doing. They prefer to cover their ears and eyes, to hold onto this veil of ignorance, than to actually do something about the injustices they committed.
Ona stared at her feet, a somber expression covering her face. Connor and Richard didn’t know what to do, how to handle this situation. They were in fact a part of this problem, accomplices. Ona took a shaky breath.
“What…” Her voice was barely a whisper now, hurt and pain coating it. “What are we to you?”
Those last words felt like a knife twisting in their guts.
What are they? To wizards? To them? What is Ona to them both? They felt her words choke them in the realisation of the nature of their kind. Connor rubbed his hands together in a nervous attempt to ground himself.
“I’m… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Ona.” Connor suddenly felt brave enough to try to say something, but the words tasted like dust. “I know how my words cannot make it all go away, or fix it, no amount of ‘I’m sorry’s’ will ever be enough for what we have done. To your people, to you.” He decided to venture a look to her face, the knife twisting further at her fresh tears.
It seemed his words helped Ona to open up further, to spill her feelings and fears.
“You really don’t know how it is to not know when the next attack will be. If you will be trapped in it, if you or someone close to you will be the next. You live in fear.” She attempted to dry her tears with her hand, but more kept coming. “This feeling that you are not allowed to exist by simply being… you. That we are some kind of crime. Why? Why do you despise us so much?”
“We do not–”
Ona chuckled wetly.
“Yes you do.” Ona could recall the offended looks when they bumped into each other on that rainy day, as if she was some sort of annoying fly.
The brothers felt sick.
No.
No no no.
NO.
“How could anyone hate you?” Richard whispered, upset at the thought of it. She was brilliant, strong, fierce, absolutely amazing. Magical.
Ona waved on the radio’s direction, her puffy eyes boring into Richard’s blue ones.
“Ask them.”
Both brothers didn’t know what to do, what do say. Guilt was eating at them both, remembering all the times they ignored the issue, frowned when a non-gifted crossed their paths, when they heard about an incident how they thought that maybe it was justified, somehow.
How they treated her the first time they met. Oh, dear Lord.
Ona’s rage and pain dulled into a strange calmness, but the brothers could see how her heart was bleeding grief and sorrow. She suddenly stood up, setting the half drank glass of lemonade on the coaster on top of the beautiful oak and glass table.
“I’m… I’m going to retire for the day, if you don’t mind.” Connor and Richard immediately stood up as well, following her with their eyes like two lost pups. They both made the attempt to reach out, to hold her hands and reassure her she was being listened. She paused on the doorframe leading to the main hall and the big and beautifully crafted stairs. Ona looked like she was about to say something but stopped herself at the last moment.
She disappeared and went upstairs to her wing of the house. Connor and Richard heard the creaking of the stairs under her weight and the thud of her steps on the regal carpet.
The brothers felt a dull ache in their chests. They felt like they should chase her, wrap her in their arms, safely tucked in them, and—
Richard went to the cabinet where he stored his finest liquors. He poured a considerable amount of whiskey on two glasses and came back to his brother’s side, offering a glass. Surprisingly, Connor took it and sat down. The amber liquid burned down his throat, hoping it would burn and melt too the ache inside.
Silence engulfed them. It was thick, threatening to choke them both. They could hear the antique grandfather clock ticking loudly on the corridor, its sound almost drowning the chirps and buzzes of the cicadas and birds outside the garden.
The brothers looked defeated. What was the point of being powerful, an authority, if they couldn’t help those who needed them most? Richard drowned the rest of his glass in one go, looking at the beautiful garden without really looking, lost in his thoughts.
“We have to do something.” Richard’s voice was strained, still not looking away from the spot he fixed his gaze on. “We cannot… This has to end. We cannot turn a blind eye anymore.”
“How do we do this?” Connor sat back on the sofa, crossing his legs and frowning upon considering their possibilities and choices. “Amanda is a straight no. Neither is Perkins.”
“Markus is an option. The Manfreds never agreed with the laws concerning the non-gifted. They could be even called allies. Carl Manfred was always frowned upon his choices, but maybe someone as powerful and controversial as him will make people listen. Somehow.” Richard set the glass down on the table.
“What about Anderson?” Connor’s eyes shifted to his brother’s, who in return did the same.
“He is a wild card.” Richard stood up, pacing around the room while considering their options. “After the incident with his wife and kid…”
“I know.” Connor tapped his lips, deep in thought. “But we all know who the real culprits are, don’t we?”
“True.” They took part in the investigation but were ordered to keep it down. Hank knew, but he was too tired from the hospital visits to his son and grieving his loss of a wife to care about anything else. “We could make him finally move and pursue the culprits. Use his case to show the cruelty of wizards and how it’s truly mindless violence, directed at anyone who stands in their path. How it affects us all.”
“It would be like a domino effect.” Connor stood up with a hopeful note in his voice, pointing at Richard for his idea.
“We can do this.” Richard could feel Connor’s enthusiasm spread all over his body. “We can change things.”
“We can change the system.” Connor could feel a smile tugging at his lips.
“If she changed us, us–” Connor’s grin was contagious and Richard could feel it. He walked over to Connor with his hands spread on each side, conveying the spirit he was feeling with quick gestures. “We can change them.”
The brothers stood mere inches from each other, panting slightly in their excitement. Twin grins evolved into tiny giggles that ended up as thrilled laughter. They pressed their foreheads together as they used to as children, the laughter shaking them. Richard grabbed Connor’s nape, squeezing as if channeling the power and strength of his words. Connor did the same, reciprocating the raw spirit of their determination.
“We are doing this.”
It was past lunch that Ona found them on the living room with all kinds of papers, documents and ink stains. They brothers rolled out their shirt-sleeves, took off their vests and unbuttoned the first buttons of their shirts, and had glasses of lemonade next to them. They were completely absorbed by what they were doing that they didn’t even hear the steps coming towards them.
“What the hell are you two doing?”
Connor will never admit the startled shout he let out, pen flying out of his hand.
“Merlin’s beard, Ona!” He placed his hand on top of his wildly beating heart, his other one summoning the lost pen back to his hand. “Oh, uh, nothing? Just, wizard work. Yeah.” He didn’t need Ona’s raised brow to know how lame his attempt at bullshitting was.
Richard frowned, looking at her still puffy red eyes after putting away the paper he was reading. He commanded a slightly wet and soft cloth to appear on his hand. Richard stood up, walking over her and gently wiping her face from dry tear tracks.
“We are taking the corrupt government down.” Richard deadpanned, as if it was something mundane that you did just after breakfast.
Ona’s eyes widened, not believing what she just heard come out of Richard’s mouth.
“You–what– you are doing WHAT?”
“Taking the corrupt government down. It’s high time things changed, and you made us realize it.” Richard cupped her face in his hands, a soft smile gracing his lips.
Ona’s mind went blank.
“Holy shit.”
#dbh#detroit become human#rk800#rk900#rk800 x oc#rk900 x oc#rk800 x oc x rk900#magical world au#wizard connor#wizard richard#ficlet#mius writes#ask#anon#Richard has no chill#B)
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The Vault
[Attention conservation notice: 6800 words, SF]
The car trundled uneasily over the stony road toward the dig site. Idalrea was a bleak landscape at the best of times: glacier-scoured barrens, lowlands inundated by cold seas, here and there thin expanses of soil in which mosses and bits of grass could occasionally thrive, and, of course, all of this under the unremitting polar sun. It should be hotter, Mazal thought. He always expected Idalrea in the summertime to be warm, and perhaps further inland, away from the moderating effect of the polar currents, it was. But here, even in the sheltered fjords of the northern isles, it was cool and overcast, a perpetual pale gloom. He remembered something vague from a book once, about evolution. They had arisen here, not in the isles, but to the south, in the sheltered place between Idalrea’s mountains and the coast. No wonder most of their species had sailed the world’s oceans in search of new homes in the millennia since. There was little to love in this gray land.
Of course, it could just have been that Mazal was in a bad mood. The car had a roof, but no sides, and he was cold and miserable, and the bouncing up and down was starting to make him feel sick. He looked over at the driver, one of Asala’s students.
“How much longer?” he asked.
“We’re just about there. Over this next rise, you’ll see it.”
Mazal did his best to stay calm. To keep his expectations measured, reasonable. He had dreamed of a day like this since he was a young man, since his earliest days as a botanist. And while he had always tried to couch his theories in the most cautious terms, to present only the narrowest and most thoroughly justified conclusions in the papers he published, he had to admit to himself that he nonetheless still nursed the wild, youthful dreams of those early years. He still hoped for some firsthand evidence of what he knew in his heart to be true--but he could wait.
The car climbed a low hill, a shoulder of a low moraine that abutted a stony outcropping, and turned a corner. Suddenly the view up the beach toward the head of the fjord was laid bare, and Mazal could see at the far end small figures in brightly-colored jackets moving around the beach. The gray rocky sides of the hills swept down almost to the water’s edge here, and where they met up ahead there was an immense pile of rock.
“There, you see it?” his driver said. “That’s the dig site. The door is just there, where the boulders are.”
Mazal leaned forward and peered through the dirty windshield. “I just see some people standing around,” he said.
“You’ll see it when we get closer, then.”
There was a hard bump as they went over some rocks, and Mazal gripped the side of his seat tightly.
“So are you the geologist?” the driver asked.
“What?”
“The geologist. Professor Asala said we’d be getting someone from the geology department down here in a few weeks. You’re just earlier than we expected, is all.”
“No, I’m not a geologist,” Mazal said, a little irritated. “I’m a botanist. An agronomist, by training.”
“What, like you study farms?”
Mazal sighed. “Yes. Something like that.”
“Oh.”
There was a short, awkward silence.
“What are you doing here, then?”
Mazal laughed a short, low laugh. “I don’t know yet. I expect Professor Asala will tell me soon enough.”
It was true. It was a long, long way to come for something that did not, on its surface, appear to have anything to do with botany. Asala was a biologist herself, originally, and sometimes a friend--sometimes a rival--from long ago. But she had taken a turn toward archeology later in her career, and paleontology, and as far as Mazal knew, was happy enough to leave genetics and her impatient, late-night arguments with Mazal far behind. Then, he got a message from her.
The message had arrived when Mazal was in the Deserts with his students, on the ninth day of a genetic surveying trip that was supposed to last four weeks. It said simply: “Come to Bilaik’s Fall at once,” it said. And, “You were right about everything.” That was all. But it was enough for Mazal to call for an airlift to the coast, at considerable expense to himself, and then to arrange a flight south. It could only be about one thing, one argument, the only real argument he had ever had with her, the one that had contained everything she admired about him and that also infuriated her. It was, really, a question of time.
Every year, Mazal had a new crop of incoming students sit down in one of his classrooms, and every year he would stand up in front of them, and project a series of images on the big white screen in the front of the room. Two, or three, or sometimes four plants--roots, stems, leaves, fruit, flowers--side by side. And he would ask his students, what do these have in common?
This year, it had been an eager young man who had responded at once. “They’re all closely related,” he said. “Different versions of the same tree.”
“Correct,” Mazal said. “You wouldn’t know it to look at it, but each of these plants is in fact part of the same species; they’re just ordinary apple trees. Not hybrids, not genetically modified. The apple tree is very widely distributed, and different farmers in different countries have, over time, developed varieties better-suited to the local climate, or to whatever use they intend to put their apple crop. As you might do with any food crop, or any kind of livestock, or even decorative plants like garden flowers.”
“Which one is the original one?” a student sitting a row or two back asked.
Mazal smiled. The question anticipated the next point he wanted to bring up. “The one on the far right,” he said. “Found only in a single valley on the Gaderun coast. It is very nearly extinct. Alas, the wild plant seems to have evolved for cooler, wetter conditions than now prevail in the region; it is only its more specialized offspring that survive, although they flourish in many different regions.”
He brought up a new image.
“Now look at these,” Mazal said. Closeups of the heads of stalks of wheat. He pointed to the one on the left. “This is a large-kerneled grain, with a slightly shiny outer covering. A tetraploid strain--it has double the amount of chromosomes its ancestor had. This one, here, is single-grain, an ordinary diploid species, with hard outer husks. And this one, one of the most commonly cultivated grains in the world, is hexaploid. Rather uniquely, each of its three sets of chromosomes seems to come from a different ancestor; it is a remarkable example of hybridization.
“This class will be about genetics, so let me ask you a genetics-based question: if I asked you how you might go about figuring out which of these was the original species, how would you do it? Obviously, the hybrid is out.”
“So are the polyploids,” the eager student at the front said.
“Yes, so are the polyploids.” He touched another button; a dozen new species appeared on the screen.
“These are a selection of diploid varieties. There are many more. How would you go about sorting them?”
“The most common one?” someone suggested.
“All that means is that it grows well, or that people like the taste. No, that has nothing to do with it. What else?”
“Compare it to wild varieties?”
“You could do that, if you had any wild wheat to compare it with. As it happens, we don’t. Whatever grass wheat originally derives from is now extinct.”
“Then compare them to each other,” a woman in the back said.
“Go on.”
“Find out what genes are common across all of them. Find out what genes are common to one or two or three. Try to group them together. Create a taxonomy.”
“Yes. Yes, that would work quite nicely,” Mazal said. He flipped to the next slide. A tree-shaped diagram. “This, as it happens, is a reconstruction of the taxonomy of diploid species of wheat. There is some fussing about the margins with the details; plants can hybridize, which can create problems for creating clean family trees. Can you think of any other use for a diagram like this?”
Quiet. It went on long enough a couple of students started shifting in their seats.
“Find out… how old they are?” the woman in the back said tentatively.
“How might you do that?”
“Well… developing new varieties of a plant takes time. You would have to, I don’t know, guess how long. Try to judge how many differences in the genome accumulate over how long. I guess it would be easier in wild plants, since people aren’t constantly trying to breed different strains.”
“Indeed. And genetic chronology is used to great effect in the study of non-domesticated organisms as well. It is not a precise method of measurement; sudden environmental change can drive rapid bursts of diversification in nature just as the intentional creation of new breeds of plants or animals can among domesticated species. But rough approximate bounds can be given. It is those that are my particular area of research.”
The next slide was a map of the world.
“As it happens, genetics and cladistics are not the only line of evidence we have to rely on. Geographical distribution can indeed be of some help, as long as we take care to make sure we are comparing more basal varieties rather than less. It was just such a technique that helped an earlier generation of botanist track down the wild apple, deep in Deserts no one had ever settled.
“A conundrum arises with wheat, however, one I think you will all appreciate. We have no wild variety to study, nor even any good candidates. The most basal strains are all rather similar to one another genetically, and it’s not clear which came first, if, indeed, any did. One or two show startling adaptations that we struggle to explain from an evolutionary standpoint: for instance, a species naturally resistant to certain phosphonic-acid-based herbicides which only entered common use about forty years ago. One strain, found only on a small island in the Garral Sea, and which is otherwise genetically unremarkable, glows in the dark. No convincing explanation for this adaptation has been advanced.
“That leaves us only the technique of genetic chronology, to at least attempt to determine when these species diverged.”
“When did they?” another young woman asked.
Mazal smiled a small half-smile. He reached over and switched off the projector, and walked slowly to the podium. He leaned against it for a second, gathering his thoughts.
“This is where I must be honest with you all,” Mazal said. “I have, as you are no doubt aware, a bit of a reputation both in this college and in my field, as someone with rather… unorthodox ideas. My methods are not the problem. My methods are all strictly by the book, and I go only where they take me. Unfortunately, they have, in the past, led me to conclusions others have regarded as absurd or impossible; and where they have concluded that therefore the methods we rely on must in some way be faulty, I have, instead, preferred to ask: what if they are not?”
Mazal folded his arms and looked at his class intently.
“I will, so long as you are taking one of my classes, endeavor to make sure you learn the skills and information necessary to excel in your chosen area of study. I will, without reservation, present to you scientific consensus and refrain from injecting my own heterodox opinion--unless asked. And I shall most certainly highlight that my own conclusions are not shared by the majority. This is not because I do not have faith in them; it is because I would be doing you all a disservice to pretend that my perspective is the only correct one. With that rather elaborate caveat, I will now answer the question I was just asked.
“The orthodox answer is this: we do not know. Genetic chronology methods are uncertain at best, and due to the fact that some easily hybridized species have convoluted genetic histories, and that among plants more horizontal gene transfer is always a possibility than among animals, some families, like that of wheat, cannot have their genetic histories clearly reconstructed from the evidence we currently have available. If you encounter an exam question on this topic in six months, that is the answer you will be expected to give.
“If, however, you use the formulae and the other lines of evidence normally pursued for this kind of reconstruction, you arrive at a rather remarkable conclusion: that wheat was domesticated about five hundred thousand years ago. You will no doubt object that our species did not exist five hundred thousand years ago; nevermind build cities, conduct agriculture, or domesticate crops. To which my response would be, as it has ever been: yes. The only possible answer, then, is that it is not our species that did the domestication.”
The reaction that year was very subdued. Some students were amused by the provocative argument. More than a few were skeptical. No one, of course, took it at face value. Mazal, they all knew, had crazy ideas. Mazal believed in aliens. If Mazal weren’t a well-respected geneticist, with dozens of solid accomplishments under his belt, they’d have shipped him off to the loony bin ages ago; but his crazy was confined, his crazy could be controlled, and set aside when it had to be. He could be trusted to teach the undergraduates, anyway. And that was the compromise Mazal had always made with himself: he would yield. When confronted, he would back down. But it had taken its toll on him over the years. So when Asala had said, “You were right,” what else could he do? He set a course for Idalrea. As fast as he could possibly go.
The car came to a halt in front of a knot of tents, temporary structures, and big earthmoving machines, all the normal signs of intense paleontological activity. Mazal had seen Asala’s travel pictures before; this was nothing new. What was new, was the soldiers. They were doing their best to be unobtrusive, carrying only pistols, hiding their uniforms under dull windbreakers. But they still stuck out. He looked over at his driver. She motioned to Mazal to wait; as soon as they saw the car, two of the soldiers had started walking nonchalantly over to them.
They greeted the woman with a nod, and one of them asked Mazal for his ID in as friendly a tone as he could manage. Mazal took it out.
“You’re Dr. Asala’s friend?” the man said.
Mazal nodded.
“Very good. She told us you were coming. Right this way, sir.”
Mazal followed them through the camp, to the place where the rubble-covered slope met the beach. Between two great boulders there was a deep, dark cleft; the passage of many feet had worn a path leading into it, and the soldiers stopped just outside. One of them took out a radio and spoke into it.
“Dr. Mazal is here. Can someone come out and meet him?”
There was a scratchy, indistinct response that apparently made sense to him; a few minutes later, the graying head of Asala emerged from the crevasse. When she saw Mazal, she smiled.
“You made it,” she said.
“I did,” Mazal replied. “Now, would you kindly explain what I’m doing here?” He eyed the soldiers on either side of him.
“Oh, don’t mind them,” Asala said hurriedly. She waved him forward, toward the crevasse. “I think someone in the government got spooked when we mentioned what we’d found. They’re just here to keep an eye on things.”
“I thought you dug up bones for a living?” Mazal said.
“Yes. And sometimes, I find other things.”
“Has this happened before?”
“Well… no, not exactly. Come on, come on. You’ll be glad you came, I promise.”
Mazal followed Asala tentatively; as they moved underneath the rocks, he realized that the summer sun outside had made it seem darker than it was. Someone had strung some lights along the floor, illuminating the mouth of a large cave. More light shone from inside, and cables snaked out to a generator humming away by the entrance. Asala strode confidently forward, and Mazal followed.
“The whole coast is dotted with caves like these,” she said. “We’re pretty far south, but we’re not so far from the Basseron Islands, the place where our species probably first evolved. So we were here looking for bones, early tools, anything that would tell us more about our place in the tree of life, about what sort of hominids might be our closest ancestors.” Beyond the entrance was a large chamber that seemed to branch off in several directions. Only one was lit up, though, and that was the way Asala went.
“Yes,” Mazal said. “I’ve read that that’s a rather persistent mystery in your field.”
“Quite. One I’ve always been interested in. But the genetics angle bore no fruit, so I had to get my hands dirty.”
“So you’ve said. Why am I here?”
“Because,” Asala said, “I think we’ve finally found something. Not the answer, maybe, but an answer. An important one. And I think it’s one that backs up something you’ve been saying for years.”
“You don’t mean my work on drought-resistant potatoes, do you?” Mazal said dryly.
Asala laughed. “No. I mean the one we used to fight about.”
“What was you said when we were still students? You’d never heard such a stupid idea in your life before?”
“Something along those lines, anyway. I don’t think I was that harsh.”
“You were pretty harsh, as I recall.”
“And you were always so sensitive.”
If he were a younger man, Mazal might have been offended; instead he rolled his eyes.
“Anyway,” Asala said. “We’d been exploring caves along the coast. We found this one six weeks ago, and we were pretty excited. There was some evidence of fire-building near the entrance, something that might have been the remains of cave paintings. We thought we’d do some digging around, to see if we could find any stone tools or animal remains that looked like they’d been butchered. Maybe some bones, if we were lucky. We did find some. Watch your head.”
They ducked through a low passage in the back of the chamber, coming into a small, roughly cylindrical room. It might have been cut by the passage of water, or hewn very patiently by many hands working over many years, but the thing in the middle stopped Mazal short. Dirt from the cave floor had been dug away, and a perfect, rectangular hole revealed beneath it. A hatch.
“The difficult was this,” Asala said. “We carbon-dated the bones. They’re about fifty thousand years old. Definitely some ancient cousins of ours. But they were found in the dirt six inches above that. Which means, that hunk of metal you’re staring at is older than that.”
Mazal wanted to laugh. “And older than any city or any known civilization on the planet.”
Asala nodded. “Unless the historians are really holding out on us.”
Mazal squatted down to peer at the hatch more closely.
“Is this steel?”
“No,” Asala said. “We’re not sure what it is. It looks like metal, but it might not be. We haven’t sampled it yet, but it seems to be some kind of high-strength alloy or advanced metamaterial. I have an engineer acquaintance coming to look at it.”
“So you haven’t opened it?”
“What? Of course we have. There’s a button.”
Asala reached down and pressed something in the dirt; there was a metallic clang, and the hatch swung open. There was more light below; Mazal could see a ladder.
“Come on,” Asala said. “Down you go.”
Mazal began to clamber down rather warily. “You know,” he said as he climbed, “the bones could have been moved. This could be a hundred-year-old bunker from the Polar Wars. Or somebody’s idea of a practical joke.”
“We thought about that,” Asala said, “because we’re not idiots.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean--”
“No, I get it. Don’t worry. You’ve always been cautious, in your own way. You want to exclude all the mundane possibilities. Well, look, nothing in this life is certain. But if it is a hoax, or a secret cult hideout or something, it’s one that’s had every inch of dirt on top of it carefully arranged to look as authentically old as possible. It has had more dirt and bones and even some dessicated ancient plant seeds that corroborate reconstructions of the local climate from tens of thousands of years in the past scattered down the first hundred feet or so of hallway.”
They reached the bottom; Mazal could indeed see that the floor of the corridor here was rather dirty; someone had carefully marked out survey grids all down its length, and a very narrow footpath had been cleared down the middle.
“Watch your step, by the way,” Asala said. “You never know, we might have missed something. This way. So yes, it might be a hoax. A very, very good hoax. One that involves some dedicated conlanging, no less.” She pointed out something on the side of the corridor, barely visible in the rust and the darkness. Definitely letters, letters that Mazal could not read.
“They’re all over the place down here. Other things, too. What might have been books once. Also carbon-dated, by the way.”
There was a feeling in Mazal’s arms and shoulders and chest that he had not felt in a long time. A feeling like electricity, or pure heat. A feeling of ridiculous, childlike excitement. He did his best to ignore it. They continued down the hallway; after only a few dozen meters, the floor became merely rusted, here and there exposing small patches of bare rock. Whatever this place was, most of it was subject to ordinary decay.
“How big is it?” Mazal asked.
“Not sure. Some cave-ins have blocked of some parts. There’s a lower passage that’s flooded. A shaft that was probably an elevator once, but a lot of the ancient machinery is either non-functional or rusted into a single giant lump.”
“Not all of it?”
“Not all of it. To your left.”
They turned, and the corridor began to slope gently downward. Mazal could hear voices ahead; the corridor opened into a large, round room, the size of a lecture theater. Lights had been set up on stands, to illuminate the walls, which were covered in intricate figures and dense markings. People were milling around, taking photographs, making notes. At the far side of the room was a single immense monolith, with a surface that seemed to have been polished to a shine. Mazal inhaled sharply.
“Gods above and below,” he said quietly. “What is all this?”
Asala smiled. “Something intended to last. It’s built out of the same stuff as the hatch.”
Mazal walked over to the wall to get a closer look. The markings were clearly writing of some kind. He had no idea what. He ran his fingers over the surface. They were deeply engraved. Geometrically precise letters. Intended to be read. But by whom?
“Come here,” Asala said. Mazal followed her to a section of the wall that was recessed slightly, with different markings than the rest. She put her hand on one, and pressed; the wall slid slowly to the side, revealing a high, narrow passage behind it. She stepped just inside, and pulled something out, handing it to Mazal.
“Careful,” she said. “It’s very cold.”
She was right; Mazal had to grip it in the ends of his jacket sleeves to hold it. He turned it over in his hand. It was a long, thin metal plate, the length of his forearm and perhaps three fingers wide. On one end, etched into it, was an image of a plant: the head of a stalk of wheat. Beside it, a series of small pictures he didn’t recognize. And in holes, down the length of the plate, small glass vials, deeply set into the metal. Inside them were seeds.
“Seeds of wheat,” Mazal said.
“Not just wheat, if the pictures are anything to go by. Other crops, too. Soy. Rice. Some fruits. And what look like genetic samples from animals. It’s like a library.”
“A library that’s fifty thousand years old?”
“Much older than that, if we’re right. Some of the illustrations on these walls are star charts. Mazal, this place could he hundreds of thousands of years old.”
Mazal leaned against the wall, his mind spinning.
“You probably can’t germinate the seeds after all this time,” he said to himself. “But if they’ve been kept cold enough, dry enough… you could sequence their DNA. You could recover the species. If they’re unknown species. Ancient cultivars. Oh, goodness.”
“Mazal!” Asala said. “Don’t you understand what this means?”
“What?”
“You were right, you idiot! There were people on this planet before… well, before people! Before our kind of people, anyway! They built this place. I don’t know why. Maybe some kind of safeguard against disaster. It didn’t work, if that’s what it was. But you were right!”
Mazal smiled. “Yes, I was, wasn’t I? My wife will be so happy.”
Asala laughed. “You should be gloating right now.”
“I’ll do that later,” Mazal said. “I want to know everything first. Everything you’ve found out.”
“Asala!” someone called from the far end of the room.
“I promise you, Mazal, I will be happy to share. Let me take care of this, and we’ll go up. I can show you the notes and video we’ve taken so far.”
Mazal nodded, still leaning against the wall for support. Asala went to go see what the fuss was about.
After a few minutes, he felt like he could stand again; his limbs still felt weak, like a rush of adrenaline had just worn off, but he couldn’t stay still. He paced back in forth in front of the walls, trying to will some sudden understanding to leap out at him. Finally, he came to the monolith in the middle; he ran his hand over the surface. Smooth and cold, like everything else. He bent down to examine where it met the floor; only the tiniest crack showed. The same near the wall; it seemed to pass back, into whatever lay behind it. He went around to the other side. That was curious; there was a depression there, a little niche he couldn’t see inside of. He looked back over his shoulder; Asala was talking energetically to two young men. He shrugged, and stuck his hand in the hole, feeling around.
The sides were smooth, but the bottom was slightly rough. There was something there, and with his fingertips he could trace out five troughs, radiating from a central depression. Like a handprint. He pressed his hand into the hand-shaped hole, expecting nothing. He nearly fell over with shock when a cool blue light shone from within. He jumped back, and looked up at the monolith.
Nothing happened. Well, that was a relief. He turned and walked quickly over to Asala. She was saying something to her colleagues about work schedules; then when she saw Mazal, she paused.
“Mazal, what’s that? Over your shoulder.”
Mazal turned around. “What’s what?”
“I could swear--is something different with the pillar?”
“The pillar?”
“That’s what we’ve been calling the big metal thing. No idea what it is. I thought for a second it was moving.”
“That’s odd.”
Then there was a noise like an enormous machine stirring to life, and the monolith--the pillar--lurched forward. Mazal yelped; someone dropped something. As they stood there entirely uncertain about what to do, the smooth metal surface opened in a hundred places, unfolding like a flower; inside, surrounded by the same blue glow, was an immense figure.
It was held nearly in the standing position by the cradle it lay in. It was at least twice as tall as Mazal; its body nearly hairless, its limbs long and delicate; but the hair on its head was dark, and shot through with gray like his own, and something in the cast of its features was still recognizable to him. And was it Mazal’s imagination, or was it… breathing? After a moment, everything was still again, and the light faded; and Asala turned to the two men.
“Go get a doctor,” she said. “And find Kolek. Now! Go now!” They scurried off. Mazal and Asala approached the figure slowly; when its eyes opened, they froze. They were brown, and bright; and they looked from Mazal to Asala and back; and then the figure moved--and collapsed, gasping, to the floor. Asala rushed forward to help it stand. It looked up at her and spoke in a deep, rolling voice, words that Mazal could not understand. He approached more cautiously, and laid his hand on the giant’s shoulder.
“Erm… it will be ok. You’re safe,” he said, in what he hoped was a soothing tone. “You are in Idalrea. Underground. But everything is fine. I think.”
The giant spoke again; but all Mazal could do was shrug. It reached up with a hand, and touched him on the back of the neck; Mazal felt a sudden, sharp pain go through his head, and he fell to his knees.
“Mazal! Are you all right?” Asala said.
The pain passed as quickly as it had come; and then the giant spoke to them in their own language.
“Forgive me,” he said. “That is a dangerous technique. But I wanted to tell you--I mean you no harm. You are safe.”
“Funny,” Mazal said. “I was about to say the same. You--you understand us now?”
The giant nodded.
“I am Mazal. This is Asala. Do you know where you are?”
“Yes,” the giant said. “I recognize this place. Though a great deal of time seems to have passed. Tell me, are the glaciers gone? Have the seas swallowed all our cities? Is anyone left besides me?”
Asala looked at Mazal nervously. Mazal felt as though an immense weight of time was suddenly bearing down on him; as though he was staring into the darkness of the deepest sea. You old fool, he thought to himself. Did you ever really think about what it would mean, if we were the second, the inheritors, the after-race? Did you ever think about the ghosts that we left behind?
“You are… perhaps alone. We do not know of any others like you. We did not know of you, until you… appeared before us.”
The giant nodded. “The sarcophagus was not a technology my people had much affection for. My willingness to endure it was considered strange by many. Tell me, how long has it been?”
Asala shifted nervously. “We don’t know,” she said. “We didn’t know this place existed until a few weeks ago. We have only just begun to study it. Perhaps you could tell us what you remember from before?”
The giant nodded. “It was winter. The skies were dark. It was so bitterly cold. We took several days to cross the ice, until we came to land. This continent we called Antarctica. Most of it still covered in ice. A desert, hidden beneath a glacier. We descended until we came to the vault; the others with me, they had some records they wished to add to it, in case our people returned. In case the danger passed, and they could begin to rebuild. I did not have so much faith. I wished to remain behind. So I did. I thought… in truth, I thought I was choosing death. But I was afraid to die; and better, I thought, to lie down with the hope, one day, of resurrection, than simply to throw myself into the sea. I did not really think this day would ever come.”
“Your people built this place?”
“It is one of several. Three in the south, two in the north. A place of records. A place to keep the seeds of life, if we should ever be able to bring back what was lost.”
“The records are intact,” Asala said. “You succeeded.”
Tears formed in the giant’s eyes. “If the records are intact, then we failed.” He shifted to a sitting position, and leaned back against his sarcophagus. “My people never came.”
Mazal did not know what to do; he sat down next to the giant and laid his small, hair-covered hand on the giant’s bare palm.
“What were your people called?”
“We had many tongues. In my own, we were called human.”
“We--in our tongue--we call ourselves the Padirek.”
“Padirek. Yes. I would have known you under another name. How long ago, I wonder.”
“If the glaciers still covered Idalrea,” Asala said, “many hundreds of thousands of years.”
The giant--the human--nodded. “That would make sense.” He sighed. “Even then, I think, we knew that we were doomed.”
“What happened?” Mazal asked.
“Many things. But most of all, the world changed around us. The side effects of our technologies--the exuberance of our collective youth, I suppose--came far more swiftly than we anticipated. By the time we marshaled the determination to confront that change, we could not stop it. Only hope to alleviate the worst of its consequences. The ice was beginning to melt here even then. The glaciers were retreating. They had vanished almost everywhere else; this was one of the last places cold enough to keep the vault, at least for a few hundred years. If the glaciers are gone, then so are the cities of my people.”
“Forgive me, but I thought… I have long speculated, anyway, that there once existed a people on this world with very advances sciences,” Mazal said. “Knowledge of genetics among them. Your people, they must have been. I am surprised that so powerful a people as yours could not adapt.”
“Are you?” the human said. “We tried. Some of us. Some of us preferred to hide away in their arcologies. Others, I heard, sought the stars. We had lost so much by then already. The seas were rising, our farmlands were drying out, so many kinds of bird and beast vanishing around us… many simply preferred to let our people dwindle away. To go quietly.”
“Why would they ever choose that?”
The human smiled. “You did not see the Earth in her younger days, Mazal. You did not see the green plains of Africa, where my people were born. You did not see the shining cities of the east, or the great engines we built to work our will, and you did not see us lose all these things, as the deserts came, and the seas rose, and life became harder, year after year. By the time I lay myself down here, our world had been diminishing for a long, long time. Long before I was born. I suppose… I suppose we all felt like the world had grown old. That our time was done.”
“But… but that can’t be,” Mazal said. “It isn’t. At all. The world is young. The universe is young. There is so much to build, to see, to do…”
The human touched Mazal’s cheek. “You have no idea how much joy it gives me to know that you feel that way. I said I knew your people once. When I was a young man, I visited the colonies on the Antarctic Peninsula. The place that was a refuge for one group of scientists working on their hope for the future. A new hominid. A new kind of mind in the world--one very like us, but, they hoped, perhaps with fewer of our faults, and more of our virtues. None of them expected to see their work bear fruit. Perhaps it never did, while our people still lived. Perhaps it was only thousands of generations later that the work they began bore fruit. Or perhaps it was only nature, and not them, responsible for your birth. But you live! You are here, speaking to me! And you still hope, and you still dream, as we once did. I hope that you do so forever. Ah!”
The human seemed to contort momentarily with pain. After a few seconds the agony passed, and his body slowly relaxed.
“Are you all right?” Asala said. “I sent for a doctor. Perhaps he can help, I don’t know.”
“Perhaps,” the human said. “There is a reason that the others shunned the sarcophagus. I think I was not one of the lucky ones.”
“Don’t worry,” Mazal said. “You’ll be all right. We’ll make sure of it. You have no idea what it means to me, to have wondered for so long if there was another people that was first… and now to meet one of you.”
“What makes you think we were first?”
“Weren’t you?”
“God no. Oh, perhaps we built the first cities. I don’t know. But we weren’t the first users-of-tools. We weren’t the first masters-of-fire. We weren’t the first hunters, or the first speakers-of-words.”
“Who was first?”
“We had cousins. You had cousins. Older kinds of human. The ones of the Neander. The Upright Ones. The Cunning.”
“These are your names for them?”
“Yes. Something like them, anyway. Your tongue… is very different from mine.”
“There is so much we can learn from you,” Asala said. “If you are willing to teach us.”
“I am afraid that will not be possible,” the human said.
“I know your world is gone,” Mazal said. “I know… I know this is a very hard grief for you. I can’t imagine what it’s like, to wake up after all this time and know that everyone you ever loved, everything you ever valued, is so… forgotten. But our people would welcome you, if you wished to live among us. Not just for what you can teach us. Not just for what you represent. We know what loss is like, even if we do not know yours.”
“You are kind, little Padirek,” the human said. “And I would happily share the legacy of my people with one like you, but I am afraid--ah!”
The human cried out this time, louder, and bent over double; when the pain passed, he spoke with ragged breath.
“I am afraid,” he said, “that my time is short. That it was only ever my fate to be a ghost in your world.”
Now Mazal’s eyes began to fill with tears; he took the human’s hand in his, and gripped it tightly.
“Help is coming,” he said. “Very soon. You are not a ghost. You are a man who lives and breathes, who has lost much, but who may yet gain many things. There is no grief above or below the sky so immense, that it precludes joy forever. Not even grief for a whole world. Even if we are the only legacy of your people, your people did not live in vain. I promise you that. I will show you. I will show you what we have done while you have slept. I will show you the great city, which sits above the immense falls, whose streets are filled with rainbows. I will show you the university where I work, where we study the earth and the stars and the secrets of life. I will show you our libraries, our paintings, our poetry. If we are your children, then these are your legacy, too.”
“Don’t cry, Mazal,” the human said. “Not for me. You don’t understand--you don’t know what this means to me. I thought the world would be silent, when we were gone. I thought--ahh! I’m sorry. But it doesn’t matter.” He leaned back, and closed his eyes; his breaths were now short and ragged. Mazal worried he could no longer talk over the pain; but after a moment, he spoke again.
“There may be other testimonies besides this place. Look in the mountains to the south. And on the Moon. And perhaps the planet beyond. More records of who we were--of what we did--than one man. I hope they are still there. I hope you find the answers you are looking for in them.”
“We will seek them out together,” Mazal said quietly.
“Yes,” the human said. He began to breathe more slowly; Mazal reached up and wiped the thin film of sweat from his brow.
It was only a few minutes ents later that they heard voices from further up the corridor; then the sounds of many feet, running their way. But the human was still; and when Mazal released his hand, it fell limply to the floor.
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An Annotated Mass Effect Playthrough, Part Four
Wherein we make it to the Citadel, and do a lot of running around.
List of Posts: 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9
So right away, we meet Udina and the Council, way to throw us right into it.
It’s a brief introduction and gives us an idea what Humanity is up against and who is representing us. Basically, we’re supposed to get the idea that it’s a lot of bureaucratic bullshit, I guess.
This is also the first time we see Asari and Salarians, and they’re in reddish-brown and white, which really isn’t the best look.
Bioware continues to push the story forward. We get enough to know that Udina is kind of an ass, and the Council isn’t going to just trust what some guy says even if he is the representative for billions of people.
And finally, after this, we’re set free.
The Citadel I think is one of the coolest locations in like almost any game I’ve ever played. They do a great job of both making it feel huge, but also accessible. Enough bridges to get across to places you need to get to, and after you walk somewhere once, Citadel Rapid Transit is great. I still choose to take elevators about 80% of the time even when I can CRT somewhere, just because I like the squad conversations and news updates. There’s a shorter elevator rides mod that helps, too.
There’s so much to do and see, and having one of the main areas just be such an awesome combination of scifi futurism and lush greenery + water is both trippy and breathtaking. I think, especially with the updated graphics mods/settings, the Presidium especially holds up fairly well. I mean it definitely feels more populated and modern in ME3 but, I just consider this to be more of a residential / professional area of the Presidium and most of what we see in ME3 is a more retail section.
It’d be annoying to be a groundskeeper here, though. Lots of green areas that you’d really need to climb to, or garden on a steep slant. :p
I always found it interesting that the natural first place to head to is into the ambassador’s office next door, where we find some friendly aliens, and one not-so-friendly one. But honestly, this is a great place to find out the different ways other species view humanity, and how there’s apparently tiers of respect given to various species.
I always kind of hoped the Elcor would feature more prominently into the world in future games, but at least we got Hamlet. I have SO MANY QUESTIONS about how Elcor like... do things? We never see it but you have to assume that their hands have opposable thumbs and they’re able to stand on two legs, right? I want to see what an Elcor ship looks like and Dakuna specifically. Give us more elcor, Bioware!
BTW, the Mass Effect: Annihilation (aka the book that was supposed to be based on the Quarian Ark DLC that never happened in Andromeda) is totally worth reading just for the elcor character in it. It’s also probably the best of the Mass Effect books, in my opinion.
Din Korlack’s got a point though, they not only have to share an office, but their view isn’t nearly as good as the human’s. This is especially bullshit for the volus, who could stand on that railing and probably STILL wouldn’t have a view.
I love how Mass Effect 2 takes her from a completely forgettable character to making me think “Sorry you’re gonna die in a few weeks, your mom’s really gonna miss you.” every time I see her.
PALIN DESERVED BETTER.
I don’t remember which ME3 mod it is, maybe the Spectre Expansion Mod or maybe EGM, but thank you whichever modder it was who made Palin’s story and death more clear in ME3. Sorry Udina got you killed.
Also, it was good to get a dissenting opinion on Spectres from him.
Avina is such a good, optional way to get more loredump. Yes, you can again ask them about Spectres if you want to hear about them again. But I liked that each Avina terminal taught you a little more about whatever you were nearby, and the state of the galaxy in general and since they were programmed to be information dumps, it felt more natural to get information this way.
Don’t these people have jobs?
I love the Krogan statue, and the Avina terminal nearby telling you about it. But now every time I see it, all I can picture is Grunt and his buddies climbing it. So good.
Managed to get a clean shot of the crew without the UI in the elevator, thanks Flycam! You have about a half a second to get this shot though, because the camera is stationary while the elevator is not.
Oh hell-lo Pailin, who is your charming-looking friend there?
This entire conversation needs to be longer. It’s a nice, quick introduction to Garrus, but, well, let’s spend a little more time with the main characters!!
I mean how can you not just not immediately love that? Hey remember how bad Garrus’ face texture used to be? Thanks, modders.
I just really love the Citadel tower. Absolutely beautiful and atmospheric.
SO the thing is, if you can pretend that Saren isn’t, you know, already half Reaperized, 100% the Council is right to not just go throwing one of their longer-term agents in jail because Shepard had a bad dream and a random dockworker said the guy who killed Saren looked like this.
Honestly though, this and OH A GOOD CHUNK OF MASS EFFECT 2 would be so much easier if Shepard wore a bodycam. :p
Also, I wonder who took the dockworker’s testimony? Did Kaidan run back real quick while Shepard was sleeping?
This was an embarrassment for humanity, and I agree with Udina that we needed more to go on before making demands of the council. The council is right to not convict based off a bad dream Shepard had. Go get some real proof! Also, do a bunch of sidequests!
And scan some Keepers for this shady guy!
Which is actually good quest design, because you really have to go to every nook and cranny in the Citadel to find them all, though it would have been nice if they showed up on the minimap. Really gets you to explore and get to know the area like the back of your hand.
This time around, I forgot to grab the one outside Dr. Michele’s office and had to hunt for it before heading up to grab the last one at the docks.
Thank you, though, Barla Von, for telling us all about the Shadow Broker and telling us about Wrex. See u in ME3.
Bioware please give us diverse-suited volus in a remaster. Maybe I’m reusing a pic of Din Korlack, you’ll never know! :p
Thanks, texture modders, for really highlighting what the end of the hanar’s noses look like.
The hanar are another species I wish we got more of throughout the series. They are probably the most alien of all the aliens we interact with. I mean, at least we got Blasto. I’d really love to visit Kahje someday. I know it’s in the comics, but you know, in-game.
Annnd let’s go visit Sha'ira.
I have very mixed feelings about Sha'ira. On one hand, she’s clearly very respected, is probably making bank, in control of her own destiny etc. On the other hand, she’s probably the asari we have the second most interaction with in this game after Liara, and after just seeing Benezia’s boob-tastic clothing and then heading to Chora’s Den soon to see the dancing asari we’re getting a very slanted view of the species. I think Bioware course corrects in later games but oof this is such a dude-fantasy alien species in ME1 it hurts. Especially since Liara is almost a born-sexy-yesterday trope.
Also... don’t touch me if I don’t wanna be touched. =\
Noveria advertisements... that just say Noveria. I guess this is effective marketing in 2148.
Look how great those shadows from the tree are... actual definition in shadow... wow.
Raise your hand if you’ve missed this conversation in a playthrough before and reloaded like an hour or more past to make sure you get it.
It’s one of those little moments that they didn’t have to put in. Just a little conversation reflecting on humans and humanity, and our place in the world, and showcasing Ash’s wit and Kaidan’s adorkableness. Also making sure you appreciate all the work that went into this particular view. It’s a pause in the action and all the things you have going on, and it’s so great for characterization and making you feel a part of the world.
Speaking of the view... I decided to flycam it. Warning, I spoil some of the “magic” below.
Pretty quickly, you see that the arms are actual objects, untextured on the non-visible side.
I decided to head for the closest line of “cars” on the bottom center-left to see what those “cars” looked like.
Flycam feels pretty fast when you’re trying to frame a specific shot just right... but when you need to travel a great distance, it feels verrry slow.
It took me probably close to five minutes of traveling to make it all the way there.
What I discovered was... a few of the buildings are real, the rest are a very good painting.
This is how far away the citadel is from the rest of the map. That grid would be that entire view from outside Dr. Michele’s office all the way to the edge of the shops on the other side, plus some extra.
So both the building that those “cars” (the string of white lights) are coming from and going to are... on the painting. Neither one are physical objects.
Made some gifs.
You can see the lights moving at a mostly-downward angle, while it looks like they’re just heading south when standing on the Citadel. Also you can see other lights moving farther up the map.
And here you can see the lights “disappearing behind a building” but they’re really just hitting an invisible wall, the dark angle of that building is just a part of the wall painting.
Looking up from the wall...
So that was a fun distraction.
Emily Wong deserved:
Better.
An entire shirt.
A mention in ME3 after she gave her life on social media defending Earth against the reapers while keeping her cool reporting on the invasion the day before ME3′s release.
That day before launch though... was amazing. Bioware did such a great job on social media with the reaper invasion happening on twitter. I loved that lots of fans got into it, too, posting photoshops and their own reaper invasion stories. I remember being at work that day but not actually working very much. A few friends and I had a google hangout going on to report in on anything we saw happening on social media and keep up with it and to be very hyped together online.
We reblogged a bunch of it on fuckyeahbioware starting about here and working backwards through numbers.
One of the ME3 mods, and again, sorry, don’t remember which, does give Emily a nice tribute through an email. She deserves it.
Okay that’s enough for this post! Will try to finish up the Citadel next time!
#mass effect#bioware#kaidan alenko#ashley williams#garrus vakarian#emily wong#annakie's mass effect stuff
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A Dinosaur A Day, Tumblr, and the Future
Things are Changing on ADAD
This blog is coming up on its 5 year anniversary, which naturally means I want to change everything about it. I’m kidding, of course, but we are going to have some big changes in the new year (2019). First, let me go over the purpose of this blog:
ADAD has Four Primary Goals:
To be an encyclopedia that covers every. Single. Dinosaur. In current scientific thought, we classify animals based on their ancestry (so, common descent). Dinosaurs are defined by the first two animals ever dug up as fossils and called dinosaurs - Iguanodon and Megalosaurus. This means that Dinosaurs are the most recent common ancestor of Iguanodon and Megalosaurus (the last ancestor they had in common) (also of Diplodocus but let’s not get into that today), and all that ancestor’s descendants.
If you want to picture it a different way: your grandparents are the most recent common ancestor of you and your cousin. Now, you both also have your great-grandparents as ancestors, but they aren’t your most recent common ancestor. Furthermore, when you have kids, they’ll still be a part of that family group, even though they’re a new generation.
This group includes birds, because birds evolved from dinosaurs (the evidence is substantial). This means that birds are dinosaurs, and I have to cover every bird.
This is actually a novel goal - most dinosaur encyclopedias only cover the dinosaurs as we classically defined them, or all dinosaurs that lived in the Mesozoic (which includes some birdy dinosaurs since birds evolved in the Mesozoic, the “age of reptiles”). And most bird encyclopedias don’t cover extinct ones to any extensive degree. And there certainly isn’t an encyclopedia that covers both (apart from, well, regular encyclopedias). So, one of the main goals of ADAD is to cover birds as well as non-avian (not-bird) dinosaurs (and their closest relatives).
To be an encyclopedia that is accessible for all readers. So many scientific blogs and other resources use fairly complicated language and bad formatting. I try to make my articles with the simplest language possible, while still making it interesting and fun for all readers of all levels. Still, this is a place where we have to grow, especially since the head author (Meig) and all the other members of the ADAD team have their own accessibility issues to grapple with. This encyclopedia also allows scientific knowledge to reach groups that are typically disenfranchised by traditional education (such as those with disabilities, the LGBTQ+ community, women, and people of color). We have actually conducted statistical studies on this and the results are promising! We are making a difference, though we have a lot of room to grow.
To bring fun to scientific education. Memes, silly posts, silly competitions, jokes, rants, all of these are fair game on ADAD, because meme culture makes learning fun, at least, and it keeps things interesting. Plus, taking things seriously is against my programming.
FLUFF. Recent discoveries have indicated that many dinosaurs had feathers or almost-feather covering on some or most of their bodies - especially the closer you get to birds on the dinosaur family tree. However, paleoart (art of prehistoric life) is slow on the uptake when it comes to new discovery, and people still tend to lean on the scaly side for dinosaurs - even to the point of being wrong. As such, a major purpose of this blog is to lean on the feathery side instead! Sometimes this means being accurate where others are not, and sometimes this means representing dinosaurs in ways that are implausible. We never, however, represent dinosaurs more fluffy than is possible, so none of these reconstructions are inaccurate. We just fill a void in how dinosaurs are represented, to help bring balance to the images of dinosaurs on the internet.
Tumblr was the correct platform for this blog to exist on, primarily due to happenstance (how I got the url in the first place was sheer dumb luck), but also due to the ability of the platform to bring dinosaurs to people who don’t usually have access to science, in combination with fun memes and jokes as is typical on the site. It also allowed for some leeway for the earliest days of the blog when it came to images - I credited every piece of art I used, but I didn’t have to ask for permission in most cases, allowing me to have images for articles where otherwise I wouldn’t have had anything to accompany the text.
So, this leaves ADAD with some current problems:
There are about two years’ worth of entries that need updated art, made by the people I pay, that I have permission to use, that are also as fluffy as the blog requires. Unfortunately, the artists do not have time to update these entries, because there is very little being brought in from the Patreon and already scheduled entries every day.
Leaving New Users Behind. Because I go by order of evolutionary relationship, I have finished non-avian dinosaurs, so anyone new following is literally in the middle of Bird Hell. I could do throwbacks, of course, but it’s not quite the same, and I can’t throw back to those posts that don’t have art (so everything from the first two years of ADAD; I’ve only had the Patreon for three years. Oh my Gd. Three years. What is time.)
New Discoveries. Because of the complete and utter inflexibility of the current schedule (evolutionary order + weird special weeks = I can’t shift the schedule around easily), we haven’t covered newly discovered dinosaurs in a shameful amount of time. And that sucks! Because they’re super cool!
Stagnation. Going in taxonomic order means that yeah, we get a bunch of cool dinosaurs that are all related in a row, but also every, single, crappy, dinosaur, from, that, group, that, isn’t, different, from, the, previous, one, at, all. And this is boring - for me to write, for the artists to draw, and for you guys to read.
The sheer multitude of birds. This kind of ties in to 2 and 4, but for every non-avian dinosaur there are 2.26 times as many birds (in terms of genus. It’s actually even more than that, but, I’m not doing it by species, so). This is insane. This is literally insane. But I’m not backing down on goal one, so…
Tumblr is Terrible. Over a year ago, it made it so that posts with external links (such as those for my patreon and ko-fi, you know, funds I need to live; as well as my sources for my information) don’t show up in search results. This means that the blog has stagnated in terms of follower growth. This is bad enough, but now the website is probably going to go kaput because of all this NSFW crap going on, so if anything we’ll be losing readers.
So what is our solution?
ADAD is starting over in the new year, and with a different organization system.
This might seem crazy - there are 12 years worth of dinosaurs total - but there are a lot of reasons to do this.
This will allow us to bring variety to the blog
This will allow new users to see non-avian dinosaurs
This will allow us to update old entries in terms of written content and the art
This will allow us to finally do new dinosaurs
I will start over on Tumblr, and start completely on Wordpress, so if Tumblr implodes I still have the blog somewhere else, and I can start to grow the community more elsewhere in addition to Tumblr. I WILL stay on Tumblr as long as it exists, but this gives me an exit strategy if it implodes.
The wordpress blog will be ADAD sans memes, but it will bring in a new audience, more recognition, and hopefully more Patreon money, so the blog can grow further! Also, restarting will allow me to change the format of the posts, which will make them more accessible and hopefully show up in the Tumblr search results.
I’m not bitter, you’re bitter.
So, on January 1, 2019, we’re starting again!
What’s the new organization system?
Random, with themes for each day of the week.
This gives us flexibility in the schedule - to break up monotony, help us maintain our workload easier, and add in new taxa to the schedule. It also allows for us to regulate it so that there are a healthy mix of birds and not-birds every week.
What are the daily themes?
Mesozoic Monday - Dinosaurs from the Mesozoic
Terrestrial Tuesday - Dinosaurs that mainly make their living on the ground
Water Wednesday - Dinosaurs that mainly make their living in the water or near water
Theropod Thursday - Theropods: meat eating dinosaurs such as Tyrannosaurus and Velociraptor, also birds of prey
Flying Friday - Dinosaurs that can fly!
Songbird Saturday & Sunday - Passerines, which by species make up half of dinosaur diversity
This will give us a very nice mixture of nonavian and avian dinosaurs every week, as well as interesting diversity and differences between each one. This will help us to mix up living and extinct animals, long and short entries, things we can just copy over from ADAD’s first run and things we have to write from scratch. There can even be theme weeks! And requests can come back! Random doesn’t just mean random number generator, it also means we can change things to our fancy if we want or need to.
So, we hope all of these changes will solve many of the problems that ADAD faces. We have read your responses to the survey, and we hear you - we think this solution will solve everyone’s complaints and help us go forward into the future in a better way.
If you have concerns, don’t hesitate to contact us via FanMail (yup, it still exists) or an ask. We recognize this means ADAD will go on for many more years - but let’s be real, because of new discoveries, that was going to happen anyway.
Thank you all for your understanding! We’re really excited about this change, and we hope you all will enjoy it!
#announcement#palaeoblr#a-dinosaur-a-day#dinosaurs#birds#birblr#a dinosaur a day#long post#bold text#italic text#all caps#accessibility#blog goals#feathered dinosaurs#PLEASE REBLOG!
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Plant Identification
A commission for the lovely @eliptly who was amazing to work with.
Sorrel wasn’t busy when he got the knock on his door. He wasn’t busy, no, but he also wasn’t in position to go gallivanting halfway across the desert, for there were sensitive projects at hand that he was overseeing. But he also wasn’t about to say no, either, and had plenty of trustworthy friends in the lab to take over while he was gone. This mission, after all, was directly related to his world dream-- and while others might disagree, Sorrel wasn’t a fool.
“I’ll do it,” Sorrel blurts.
The Guardian-- Harpuia, he thinks-- stares at him in mild shock. “What?”
Then, “oh, you will? Great!”
“When do we start?” Sorrel presses. “I can get ready so fast-- promise. Do you need a vehicle? I have a caravan-- it has all my machines in it. And all my gear. We should probably take it,” he adds pointedly.
Before Harpuia can say anything else, he’s already scrambling to throw on his cloak, fussing with the thick mane that was his hair.
“We uh, can leave now, if you have everything in order,” Harpuia says, still in shock. “We’ll load all your gear into our caravan…”
“Yes! That’d be great!”
+
The guardians’ caravan was a massive and armoured crawling contraption, resembling more of an animal than a vehicle. All of Sorrel’s gear-- machines, seed vaults, books, and data pads- fit comfortably inside with room to spare. It did not stop Fefnir from hunkering down right beside it, however, which made him nervous. Fefnir was huge! What if he accidentally smashed something?
No. That wouldn’t happen… Fefnir may be big, but he wasn’t careless.
“Sit up front,” Harpuia ordered. “With me.”
“Uh, yes sir,” he stammered.
He climbed in front where the movements of the caravan were most pronounced and nearly rhythmic in its cadence.
“I’m surprised your caravan has no gyroscopic stabilizing,” he said quietly, hands folded in his lap.
The eye roll was in the following silence, Sorrel was sure. He peered out through the tinted windshield at the rolling desert sands. They were heading north-- to Dome No.5, a relatively new structure that was still undergoing terraforming. If they started going east, he mused, it would be Dome No.3 instead. Hm…
Really, the atmosphere inside the caravan was stuffy and difficult to breathe in. Were all Arcadian generals like this? He scowled slightly out at the barren lands, brows furrowing as something interesting began to come into view.
“Oh! It’s a farm!” Sorrel gasped. “A coffee farm? It’s so big. That’s lovely.”
“They are becoming more common, aren’t they? Weren’t you working on a hybrid coffee plant?”
Sorrel paused, trying to think of which project Harpuia was talking about. He had so many that it was easy to lose track…
“I believe so. I was crossing it with a more versatile crop but the results have been… curious, to say the least,” he explained slowly. “One promising specimen has softer pods that open up on their own. They do seem to be edible!”
Harpuia blinked and nodded. “But does it have seeds? Flowers?”
“To have pods, you need flowers,” Sorrel hummed. “Insects pollinate it.”
+
They had been driving for another hour when something struck the vehicle-- a thunk from behind, followed by several more thunks. Something was on the caravan. Worse, it was scaling it.
“Phantom! Leviathan!” Harpuia called, killing the engine and bringing the big vehicle to a jerking, grinding halt. “Go see what’s going on out there, please?”
Sorrel blinked, eyes widening as he continued to hear the thunks and scrabbling sounds. It sounded like a wild beast was trying to get inside from above! Or a bird.
Or the Resistance.
“Is it an attack?” Sorrel asked, trying to look at Harpuia. A hot breeze came in through the back, dashing the air conditioning’s hard work, his circuits immediately crisping. Shoot, it was hot out!
“No,” Harpuia sighed. “It’s probably… a friend of ours, I’m sure.”
That wasn’t cryptic at all.
Sorrel twisted around to peer outside where Leviathan and Phantom were now perched, crouched in front of a third figure. It was clad in red but not nearly as large as Fefnir (who had fallen asleep, completely oblivious).
“Who… is that?”
+
Omega recognized these faces. They weren’t always friendly but the few times that they were, he usually got food out of it, and this time there weren’t any weapons… That was enough for him to quickly press himself against Phantom’s legs, snorting with amusement when the lighter Reploid threatened to topple.
It had been on purpose, of course.
“What should we do about the big guy?” Leviathan asked Harpuia.
“Haul him in the back,” Harpuia sighed. “He can run our errands with us.”
The big Reploid purred, not comprehending what was being said, but understanding the gentle slope of the voices all the same. He twisted away from the cluster and hauled himself into the back of the big caravan. His eyes narrowed as he spotted a new Reploid.
“Don’t worry, Omega,” Fefnir said with a roll of his eyes. “It’s just a friend. Yo, Sorrel, come look at this big guy!”
Sorrel’s mouth dropped open. “Did- did you say- Omega?”
“Ah, shoot…” Fefnir had the grace to look mildly guilty. “Yeah. He’s harmless, though. Come back here and give him some lovin’.”
Easier said than done…
+
In the long run, that was exactly what Sorrel did. The big Reploid-- Omega, Omega Zero himself-- was perfectly content to lay in his lap for the rest of the trip. Sorrel ran his hands through the long, curly mane, sighing with relief when the great big structure of Dome No.3 appeared. It was shielded from the harsh elements of the desert with the only glass panels being atop the dome.
It had been awhile since he had been here.
“We will be collecting samples and sowing new seeds, correct?” Sorrel asked, to make sure.
“That’s right.”
Omega stirred, growling faintly. Sorrel quickly gave him several pats on the head.
The caravan trundled to a halt.
Fefnir and Sorrel were tasked with hauling most of the equipment in, the other three making sure their presence was confirmed. Omega loped inside with no regards to bureaucracy or rules. He happily pushed his way inside the greenhouse-- more of a micro-ecosystem-- and disappeared.
“So, we’re planting new species of trees?” Leviathan asked. “What kind?”
“Dome 3 is a deciduous forest biome, so we are introducing the long-forgotten Ash tree. I have the saplings in some of the containers here. They are very small.”
“I see…” Phantom lifted one of the small sapling containers, peering inside. Its roots were bagged. “They don’t exist anywhere else?”
“Not anymore. My team was very fortunate to recover their genetic data,” Sorrel said with a bright smile. “So let’s take care to plant these with love! Okay?”
They dug out the saplings’ new homes by hand, using little energy tools shaped into trowels and hooks and all sorts of gadgets. Sorrel taught each of them how to safely unbind the tree from its bag. Leviathan turned out to be the best at it.
Harpuia only attracted birds.
Robins and sparrows had come down from their nests to land on the green Guardian, beaks nibbling over the wing-like attachments, feathers puffed and just generally getting in the way. A bright red blush was adorning his face even as he tried to ignore them.
Phantom shook his head. “You’ve been feeding them, haven’t you?”
“N- nonsense! Don’t accuse me of such things!” Harpuia hissed. He stuffed his hands into the dirt.
“Then why are they so friendly? Or maybe you look like a giant bird! You do have wings on your head!” Fefnir said with a smirk. “Harp, you’re just a giant bird…”
“No!!!” Harpuia huffed at him, the birds on his head only warbling in discontent. An increasing amount were gathering atop his back. “Jeez…”
Sorrel couldn’t help but laugh, distracted from his work for the moment. To see all of the Guardians interacting with each other like siblings was a rare treat-- and to see one laid low by numerous birds was just amusing.
“If Harpuia was a bird, he’d be an Eagle!” Sorrel called. “I don’t believe any eagles have been revived yet…”
That was distressing, actually. Robins and such could be flown in from other, more prosperous regions, just as remnants of other creatures could be. But no one could find any hints beyond cultural symbols of the Eagle.
“Eagles?” Phantom echoed. “I saw a drawing of one, once. Very proud looking birds. Is our Harpuia proud?”
“As a peacock,” Leviathan said with a grin.
They moved on, eventually, to look over the Dome’s twelve-mile radius grounds. Human scientists were found encamped in certain areas, committing data and logging the livelihoods of the dome’s specimens. Sorrel chatted with a couple that he recognized from his own team before moving on.
They found Omega again, several hours later.
He was sleeping on the roots of a great big tree-- a Penn Oak, according to Sorrel-- and looked relatively peaceful. Birds were poking and tugging at his hair.
“This is odd to see, you must know,” Sorrel said softly. “He looks peaceful.”
“Yes, he does,” the others agreed.
---
This was a commissioned piece. If you liked it, and perhaps want to see more, I also have a Ko-Fi, Patreon, and open Commission slots that can be found on my page. Thanks!
#mega man#Mega Man Zero#mmz#the guardians#oc#oc: sorrel#commission#omega zero#three laws of robotics
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The Miracle in the Forest
Author: eternityunicorn
Word Count: 2,787
Author’s Note: This is a short story I wrote for no reason really. So there’s no rhyme or reason to it. Thought I’d share it. Also, it’s completely unedited, so I apologize for any mistakes that might be found. Let me know what you think!
PS: Not a fanfic for the Last Unicorn. Just as a unicorn in it.
——————————————————
A young man of his sixteenth year was dragged toward the forests of his rich uncle’s estate in rural Scotland by his much younger brother, a boy of eight. The elder brother was less enthused being tugged and pawed and frankly, harassed into following the younger one, especially when it was just after dawn, but the boy insisted. They were both from across the ocean, from America, and the younger brother was very into mythology and magic and the wonders of the old world.
“C’mon Mark,” the boy shouted, nearly hysterical in his excitement. “This way!”
“Yeah, yeah,” Mark replied unenthusiastically with a roll of his bright green eyes and a slight crooked smile of amusement. “Though, you should be careful.” He attempted to detract his brother from his mission, “If Mom were here, she’d have kittens knowing you were out here, aggravating your condition.”
The boy paused, turned, and frowned at his brother. “Mom’s not here. Besides, the whole point of coming out here is to get rid of my ‘condition’,” he rolled his eyes, “Duh!”
“Going into the woods isn’t going to do anything positive to your condition, you know,” Mark responded. “You shouldn’t have listened to Uncle Jack’s old fables he was telling us last night. Those stories are just going to kill you or at least, break you heart. There isn’t an ‘eternal springtime because a unicorn living in old forest’, as the old man spouted on about. It’s a forest like any other, you’ll see - and unicorns don’t have healing powers. Both are myths!”
The boy went ahead again towards the forest, though he had let go of his brother’s hand, having planned on leaving the nonbeliever behind. Mark shouted of his brother to slow down and wait for him, but his brother was determined, and once Nick got an idea in his head, there wasn’t any stopping him. Stubborn to a fault like all of his Scottish relatives and easily conned into believing fables to be true too. Mark had to practically run to catch up to the sickly boy, whom for a terminal heart patient moved pretty well with a speed of a cheetah...or something. It was impressive, what strength his belief in silliness could bring him.
It didn’t take long before both boys were at the entrance of the great oak forest. Nick lead Mark inside without hesitation, though he had slowed down enough to keep his winded elder brother near. If he hadn’t been there, Mark knew that Nick would have raced through the forest. Well, as much as a dying heart patient could. But with his brother in tow, it reminded him to take it easy, if only to keep Mark from nagging at him or trying to keep him from his adventure fully.
On the outside, the forest looked as any forest would; large trees with great canopies of green leaves of early Summer, foliage of all kinds, including some berry species, right there at the border. There was a misty morning fog that encased the woods with mystery and wonder, that was a tiny bit creepy, but not foreboding or threatening. Once inside, however, the normalcy seemed a little more uncertain. There were smaller lilac trees all around along with white rose bushes growing around their bases. Birds sang happily above and other animals of all kinds frolicked and played on the ground as if there wasn’t any reason in the world to hide or to be afraid, even as travelers from the outside wandered into their territory, their home.
“We have to go deeper,” Nick murmured quietly to Mark, to not scare the animals whom all stared at them curiously, almost humanly. “Uncle said the unicorn will show if we go to the pond at the forest’s center.”
“This is ridiculous,” Mark hissed back, not liking the way the animals stopped and appeared to follow them as they walked on. It was as creepy as the forest itself. “We should leave!”
“Don’t be a chicken,” replied Nick, not looking back and not stopping. “C’mon!”
Mark resigned himself to follow the enthusiastic boy. Damn Auntie for making me go with him, he grumbled begrudgingly to himself. I would rather be anywhere but here on this fool’s errand!
It didn’t take very long for them to find the center, as there was an unnatural glow to the forest, despite the light of morning not being very prominent yet, and the normal shadowiness was nonexistent as a result of the glowing. Neither of them tripped nor stumbled. The path had been clear the entire time, even though they had to veer off the main path to get to the center of the place, which should have given them trouble since the forest was natural and untouched by human hands, or at least that was what their uncle had said.
“None dare to go in there,” Uncle Jack had said to them, just the night before, while he stroked his scraggly beard and smoked from his pipe. “No human has touched that forest in anyway, because none dare to approach,” he spoke quietly, as they all sat together for dinner. “Too caught by the blessin’ there to dare set foot within. Ye boy needin’ the blessin’, so ya have purpose for goin’ further than any have dared. Ya know, I could rake up quite the fortune, if I be wantin’, but I’m no cad nor greedy bastard. Nah, a well kept secret be the blessin’. You boys can go at morning’s first light. Just remember to keep yer mouths shut after. That be my only warnin’ to ya.”
If the old man had been right and nobody had been inside the forest, then why were their clear cut paths leading them on? Had the senile man been wrong? It was likely. Yet, his uncle owned the land, and therefore, the forest, so how could he not know? Or at least, Auntie Mary would have spoken up and corrected her crazy husband for his mistake surely, if he had made one.
Mark was even more unsettled by the strange paths and the even stranger glow that lit their way. It seemed so unnatural, but that was impossible. Nothing was supernatural because the supernatural didn’t exist. There were no mermaids, sorcerers, or the like in the world or in any other for that matter. Magic wasn’t real. All of it were just stories, passed down from generation to generation. Tall tales by men whom didn’t have the answers, so they made them up.
“We should wait here quietly,” Nick instructed his brother in a hushed tone. “The unicorn will come if we remain quiet and still.”
Mark rolled his eyes for what seemed to be the hundredth time that morning, but said nothing. Instead, he opted to sit on a fallen tree trunk and pull out his phone to scroll through the internet to pass what he thought would be a very long amount of time. Nick sat beside him, looking around anxiously for the strange white beast that wouldn’t come. Or at least, that was what Mark had been so sure of; that the unicorn wouldn’t come because the unicorn wasn’t real.
Yet, it turns out that it didn’t take long for the elder brother to be proven wrong and the younger one (and his uncle) to be proven the opposite.
They had only been waiting there a few minutes before she appeared, coming through the foliage to the left, on Mark’s side of the log. She had moved in silently, without disturbing the woods around her. Mark hadn’t been paying attention, having been engrossed in the mobile device in his hands. So when he saw the flash of white out of the corner of his eye, he startled; gasping and leaping back, nearly dropping his phone in the process. It was his reaction that prompted his brother to notice her arrival. The young boy leapt up joyfully, rushing forward in his excitement to get closer to the unicorn. Mark stood up too, but kept his distance, watching warily at the strange beast he had thought not to be real, unsure of how to process what he was seeing.
The unicorn was beautiful, more beautiful than anything Mark had seen in his life. She was ethereally glowing amongst the shadowy trees around her. She looked like hybrid of a horse and deer. Her body was that of a horse with a long mane that moved like ocean waves down her back, her face and legs were those of a deer (including her cloven hooves), her ears were long and her eyes were large, full of awareness and age. They were sapphire blue in color. Her horn was long, spiraled, and grayish in color. Finally, a lion’s tail swayed behind her as she stood there observing them both with curiosity.
Mark was gobsmacked at the sight of her. He was also deeply moved by her presence with tears forming in his eyes and the heaviness of emotion welding up inside his chest. He wanted to fall at her feet and stare in worship of her, an experience he had never had before and would probably never have again.
Nick, on the other hand, was simply excited and happy. He didn’t dare go near enough to touch the unicorn, but close enough to observe and admire her. “Hello,” he murmured in a small voice.
“Hello, young one,” the unicorn replied, her voice smooth, sweet, and full of grace.
“We’ve come to -.”
“I know why you are here.”
Mark was amazed. Not only was the unicorn real, but she could speak! Not only that, but speak in their language. Furthermore, she knew why they were there without either of them saying the reason. She must have had overheard them as they entered the forest or else she had some sort of psychic powers and perhaps read their minds! Mark would have called the latter ridiculous, but he knew that would be foolish, especially now that he knew unicorns were, in fact, real. Instead, his once closed mind to the possibilities was now open to all of them. Perhaps, she did have psychic powers. Maybe she was reading his thoughts this very moment while she conversed with his brother. He didn’t know what to think of that invasion, but knew not how to stop it. He wasn’t exactly an expert in the supernatural or how to counter it. So, he stayed perfectly still and listen to the two speak to each other, to distract himself from the slightly disturbing idea that his thoughts were no longer private in her presence.
“I can sense death all around you, child,” the unicorn was saying to Nick. “You are dying as mortals do. Your heart is giving out. You do not have long to live.”
“Will you help me?” Nick was asking the unicorn, pleadingly so.
“There is an order to things,” she replied gently. “Things that are meant for mortality come and go, are born and then die. This is the balance of mortal life. Everything has it’s time in the mortal realm. Somethings live longer than others. That is simply how it is.”
“So you won’t help,” the boy sighed sadly, disappointedly.
Mark felt terrible. He hated seeing his little brother deteriorate, fighting for his life, even when there was little hope for him. The unicorn had been Nick’s last hope. Yet, she wasn’t going to help him. Despite her purported great power, she was going to let his brother die? Mark raged with indignation at that thought. How dare she not help Nick, after he believed so fully that she would, if he went into her forest and sought her out, despite his failing health. He had been brave and full of faith, yet he was to be denied.
Mark was ready to tell the unicorn off, but then the unicorn made a musical sound, like a laughing whinny, and swung her head from side to side humorously. He refrained, holding back his choice of unkind words, as she said, “While that is the rules of life for mortals, that does not mean that the rules cannot be bent a little, especially for a child so young.”
“So, you’ll help?” Nick asked excitedly.
“Aye, young one, I will cure your dying heart,” she replied with a smile in her voice. Her sapphire eyes sparkled with joy at Nick’s happy reaction. “Your live will be prolonged, but who is to say for how long. You are mortal after all, a fragile human at that. Magic healing isn’t a guarantee of a long life. Death will come for you, as it comes for all mortals, but perhaps sooner than later. Do you understand, young one?”
Nick nodded anxiously. Mark said nothing.
Then the unicorn touched the sickly boy with the point of her horn. The dull gray horn lit up to a bright, glowing blue. It hummed sharply as the unicorn healed Nick. Nick didn’t seem to be in any discomfort. He just stared wondrously at the unicorn, so close that he could reach out to her, if he so chose to. However, he dared not, too respectful of the ethereal creature of grace and beauty to touch with his mortal hands.
Mark stood by and watched as the event unfolded with a little bit of worry and a whole lot of wonder. It was quick, the unicorn’s healing. The horn glowed brightly for just a few seconds before it faded to gray. Once her horn had faded, the unicorn swiftly vanished from the scene, as if she had never been there, leaving the boys to wonder about the encounter. They each wondered if it had been real.
Of course it had.
Nick knew it because he was stronger, not as frail as he had been upon entering the forest. Mark thought it was a miracle, his brother would live! Just wait until Uncle Jack heard about their adventure, he had thought as excitement coursed through him. He was a believer now, a believer in myths and legends, that was certain. He swore to never doubt again that tales told.
As they walked back to their uncle’s house, Mark wondered what else was out there. Did dragons exist? Did mermaid? Sorcerers? Witches? Demons? What else lay out there, hiding away from mortal eyes, he wondered. Perhaps one day he would find out. Perhaps he would see other nonhuman creatures. Maybe he would meet the unicorn again or a different one.
“Ack! Unicorns are rare,” he remembered his uncle saying once. “There aren’t many out there any more. Why? Nobody knows. At least, nobody mortal.”
Mark had dismissed the old man then, but now he found himself in awe, wondering how did his uncle know so much about these things? The guy was a mystery. That was for sure. However, at least, now he knew that his uncle wasn’t so raving madman.
Just as they came up to the house, Uncle Jack was hobbling out to meet them. “So, did it work? Did you see her? Are you healed, boy?” He asked rapidly, excited as well.
“Yeah, Uncle Jack, I saw her and she healed me,” Nick responded with just as much excitement.
“Ah, bless ye,” their uncle said with tears of joy in his eyes. He threw his arms around them both, one boy under each arm. “Your mother will be overjoyed to hear the happy news. Ya know, she saw the unicorn too, when she was little?”
Mark and Nick both were surprising by this revelation. Their mother had never spoken of such a meeting. She didn’t even seem to believe in anything supernatural. “It’s all make believe,” she would dismissively say about anything about it. “What utter nonsense!” So to hear that she too had seen the unicorn was shocking, to say the least.
“She did?” Nick asked.
“She never said,” Mark said.
Uncle Jack looked sad, though he still smiled at them. “Ack, no she wouldn’t. She lost the faith when your father died,” he said. “She pretends that the event with the unicorn never happened, that anything otherworldly is made up. Yet, she did meet the unicorn. I know it, because I was there.”
“Will you tell us about it?” Mark asked with interest.
“Aye,” Uncle Jack replied brightly, happy to see his oldest nephew had a change of heart and actually wanted to hear his stories. “Let’s get inside and I’ll tell ye the tale.”
The two boys grinned and followed their uncle inside.
So eager to hear the tale, neither boy saw the ethereally shining unicorn standing in the distance at the edge of her forest, watching them.
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