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ahsokasshoto · 3 years

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Names and Faces

Star Wars: The Bad Batch fanfiction

No romantic relationships; Omega, Hunter, Wrecker, Tech, Echo, 99, Nala Se

1999 words (I really couldn’t have just added one more, could I?)

Ao3

Summary: Imagine growing up on Kamino, dysphoric for a face that you see reflected back at you not only in the mirror but in everyone around you. Imagine what it would mean to be finally be seen as different, knowing that people were finally seeing you as you saw yourself.

Omega deals with growing up trans on Kamino, and how to later tell her newfound family this important piece of her identity and history.

TW: non-graphic violence between the first and second breaks, and mentions of/hinting toward dysphoria throughout

It was an okay face, she supposed. If she looked at it from a certain angle. And squinted a bit. The jaw was too set and square; nose too wide and flat; hair too rigid. But the eyes….the eyes were good. She had to learn to like this face. She was stuck with it.

“The hell are you looking at, Question Mark?”

The jeering voice shook her out of her thoughts and she winced. She’d been daydreaming in the middle of the cafeteria while staring directly at another clone. Again. He stepped towards her, brows knit together in a familiar fury. A group of clones stood behind him, backing him up. “I asked you a question, Question Mark,” he hissed, using the snide nickname some of the clones had branded her with. She was always disappearing for tests or riding the heels of Nala Se. No one quite knew what to make of her. To them, she was a big question mark.

She stood and looked into that face, her face, reflected back at her. She tried to keep hers neutral as she said sternly, “That’s not my name.”

The other clone smirked. “Well, what is it then, Question Mark?” He took another step toward her, those copper-colored eyes still menacingly afire. “Or is that just another question mark for us, too?”

Fortunately for Omega, those questions would have to wait as the cafeteria was suddenly abuzz with excitement. One of the clone troupes was back from a mission. “It’s the weird ones,” Omega heard another clone whisper. “Aren’t they called the Bad Batch?” another clone responded. “Don’t you mean the sad batch?” the clone who had jeered at Omega scoffed. But at least he was distracted for now, and Omega hurriedly made for the exit when she saw him.

It was that face, the one she’d seen countless times on countless people, but it wasn’t the same. His hair fell over it, and the dark ink of the skull pattern caught the bright Kaminoan light, making it look all the more shadowed. And with him were three other clones, each with equally unique faces: one with thin, hollowed cheeks and a crosshair tattooed over his eye; one which stood taller than the others, a twisting scar spread around one whitened eye; and one wearing high-tech goggles, face buried in a datapad. She’d never seen anything like these clones before.

The one with the skull tattoo turned on his way to a table and caught her eye. He gave her a small smile and nod before turning back to sit with his team. Omega could not stop her heart from fluttering.

"Who were those clones, Nala Se?"

Nala Se blinked slowly at her. "To which clones are you referring?"

"The ones who didn't look like clones. Big guy, one with goggles, one with grey hair and the one with the skull on his face."

"Those are the clones of experimental unit 99."

"Experiments?" Omega looked down at the cold machinery which poked and prodded her skin. "What kind of experiments?"

Nala Se moved some sensors, made some notes. "Nothing that concerns you."

Omega was not deterred. "Why do they look like that? Because of the experiments?"

Nala Se paused, all but sighing as she turned to look into Omega's wide, curious eyes.

"Yes. Aberrations in their DNA enhanced traits desirable in soldiers. We further enhanced those traits manually."

"Wow." Omega leaned back. "What can they do?"

"Enough questions for now, cadet. Just relax."

Usually, the sensations of the metal sensors on her skin brought on a dysphoric discomfort that would stay with her, sometimes for days after an examination like this. But today, her mind was far away, imagining the face she'd have if she could be different like Experimental Unit 99.Omega was still lost in thought as she made her way back to her bunk. It was late, and she hoped the other clone cadets would all be asleep. But her hopes fell when she heard heavy footfalls behind her.

"Well, well, well," sneered a familiar voice. It was the cadet from earlier, his crew still lurking behind him. "If it isn't the big old question mark. What are you doing out so late? Huh?"

Omega could feel his hot breath in her face. She glared at him. "None of your business."

But the other clone merely smirked. "I saw you looking at that sad batch clone earlier. You know what I think? I think you're defective," he said, jabbing a finger at her chest, "just like them. That's why they have to do so many tests on you." He tugged at her shirt. "Why don't you show us, Question Mark?" He lifted her shirt up and punched her in the gut. It knocked the wind out of her and she fell to her knees. She had barely time to throw her arms up over her face before a foot was coming at her head. The other cadets stood by and laughed. One may have even added some kicks of his own; there were so many, she couldn't tell, and she began to grow faint and dizzy. Finally, one of them said, "I hear footsteps. We'd better get out of here!"

They took off running in the opposite direction of the approaching footsteps. They were moving too quickly to be Kaminoan. She dared not look up as they grew closer.

"Are you alright?" said a soft-spoken voice, filled with genuine concern. She'd never heard that kind of voice on Kamino, not even from Nala Se. She risked a tiny peek, and found herself looking up at another clone unlike any she'd seen. His body was slightly hunched, his face wrinkled, but he looked at Omega with some of the kindest eyes she'd seen on Kamino.

"I...I think so," she winced, struggling to sit up. The clone reached out and offered a steadying hand, which she accepted. "Ow," she winced again, feeling a sharp pain in her ribs. She hoped they weren't broken; that would be difficult to hide from Nala Se.

“I’m 99,” the clone said kindly. Omega perked up. “Like Experimental Unit 99?” she asked brightly. 99 chuckled. “The Bad Batch,” he said fondly. “They had to go through this too, you know. At least, before Wrecker got too big to scare everybody off.”

She looked up at 99, wide-eyed. “Really?”

“Not all regs are like that, though. I’ve known some good ones. It’ll get better.” He smiled at her, but she still looked dismayed.

“I don’t know. I’m different, too. I don’t look like it, but I….I feel it.”

99 gently helped Omega to her feet. “Well, if you ever need someone to talk to about it, come and find me. I’d better get back to work, though. What’s your name, by the way?”

Omega smiled, and took a breath. The last letter. The last she’d ever be considered a question mark. Once the name passed her lips, there would be no going back. But she was ready.

“Omega,” she said proudly. “My name is Omega.”

99 had been right; things did get better once she told Nala Se she was transgender. “Most intriguing,” was all the Kaminoan woman had said, blinking those huge, taciturn eyes. She had begun production and administration of puberty blockers shortly after that.

Omega continued to meet with 99 through her transition, and the two became fast friends. She especially loved hearing his stories about the Bad Batch. The attack by the Separatists on Kamino was a devastating blow. She attended 99’s funeral ceremony, along with several regs. She looked over them all. Most did look pretty regular, but she noticed a couple, one with a hand painted on his armor and one with a tattoo of a five on his head. They must be more experienced troopers to have such marks. 99 had been right, Omega thought. Not all regs were bad if they could pay their respects to him.

People still treated Omega differently, but what no one realized was that every snide remark about her hair or her soft features or her clothing was a point of pride and power for her. They were finally seeing her as she saw herself.

And the next time the Bad Batch saw her, she could look back at them with a face as same but different as theirs.

"Tech, how's it going with that datapad?" Hunter said in a low voice. He, Tech, Wrecker, Echo, and Omega wandered the surface of Bracca, searching for a particular piece of machinery.

Something caught Omega's eye: a shock of color stuck out against the rusty brown all around them. She knelt down for a closer look. It was a small flower, delicate purple petals reaching through the junk for a chance at sunlight. It was beautiful.

"Nothing yet. The latent charges in the rest of the machinery here must be skewing my tech as much as your senses, Hunter." Tech shook his head. "My screen is like a big, blank question mark." The words jolted Omega out of her reverie. Her mind was suddenly thrust back to Kamino, when those words were slugged at her as much as fists were. Her chest grew tight and her heart began to pound.

“Omega?” Hunter heard her panting as much as he sensed her panic and was at her side in a moment. “Omega, what is it? What’s wrong?”

Her thoughts were racing; it was difficult to focus. “I....I just….” Big, splotchy tears began to spill. Everyone had stopped now to look at her, concern lining each of their faces. “Question mark. That’s what people used to call me, back on Kamino. Before….before I….” She couldn’t finish before choking out a sob. She turned away from them and ran back in the direction of the ship. Hunter made to follow, but Echo placed a hand on his shoulder. “Give her some space. If she wants to tell us, she will.”

The crew arrived back at the ship some time later to find Omega waiting for them. She looked at them solemnly, almost sheepishly. “I’m sorry I ran off back there,” she said quietly.

“That’s alright, Omega. Is everything okay?” Hunter asked gently.

Omega took a deep breath. “When I was first growing up on Kamino, I knew that I felt different, but I didn’t look any different from everyone else. I didn’t want to be a soldier. I didn’t want to be like them at all. I’d be taken away for tests a lot, and no one knew what to make of me. I was just a big question mark to them.”

She looked down at her hands. “Now when people see how different I look, it makes me happy. Because they’re seeing me as I am. A girl. I’m transgender,” she finished, and risked a glance up at the group. The members of the Bad Batch were all beaming at her with immeasurable pride.

"Wow," Wrecker whispered, his good eye wide and sparkling with admiration.

"Thank you for telling us, Omega," Hunter said earnestly, kneeling down to look her in the eye.

"We are so lucky to have you," Tech piped from behind Hunter.

"Absolutely. You may not have wanted to be a soldier, but you're brave and strong as one," Echo said.

"But way prettier!" Wrecker added, and they all laughed.

"Thank you guys," Omega said finally, wiping the tears from her eyes. "No one's ever understood me like you have. I couldn't ask for a better family."

"Me neither," Hunter replied.

"Here, here!" Tech agreed.

Wrecker couldn't take it anymore. "Oh, bring it in!" he cried and he wrapped his arms around Tech and Echo and sandwiched Hunter and Omega between them in a group hug. Omega’s heart swelled to know that she finally had a place and a family to which she belonged. Where she could be free to be exactly who she was meant to be.

#OMEGA IS TRANS HAPPY PRIDE #trans!omega #omega the bad batch #the bad batch #the bad batch fanfiction #tbb #clone trooper tech #clone trooper wrecker #clone trooper hunter #clone trooper echo #omega #tech the bad batch #hunter the bad batch #echo the bad batch

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littlesailorinthesun · 3 years

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is love nikki osha compliant?

Inspired by Brian David Gilbert's legendary Unraveled video "Smash Bros. owes millions of dollars in OSHA violations", I became curious how this would apply to Love Nikki suits. I looked through a few suits of choice to determine how OSHA-compliant they are.

First of all, I would like to say that while I have previously worked in a Health and Safety department, I apologize for any mistakes I make. This is not work (even if real Nikkis' lives are at stake here!)

For the Smash Bros. video, BDG looked primarily at the safety of various fighting arenas. Given that Love Nikki is a dress up game, I will of course be primarily looking at PPE (personal protective equipment) which falls under 1910 Subpart I; however, there are some instances where it is clear the environment is also unsafe.

The issue with determining what is proper PPE is mostly that it varies depends based on the environment you find yourself in. Given that *most* suits don't come with huge background props or backgrounds, I will just be extrapolating based on the item descriptions and the little context we have.

Heavy Machinery

One of my favorite suits, yet one of the worst offenders, Heavy Machinery actually calls out its own violation in the suit itself. If Miraland had OSHA, Heavy Machinery would unfortunately be breaking the rules.

According to OSHA's Nail Gun Safety Guide, people using nail guns should have the following PPE (in addition to the safety goggles): safety shoes (steel toed boots), hard hats, and hearing protection. Unfortunately, while maybe the shoes might have steel toes (though they don't look like they do), Heavy Machinery does not have a hard hat nor any hearing protection that I can see. This puts her in general violation of 1910.132(a).

One of the more frustrating parts is that she has eye protection, but she isn't actually using it! The item description for the goggles even says, "A mechanic can easily hurt his eyes, so it's good to wear goggles. Don't act cool and put them on your head!" Yet, she is doing just that, which causes her to violate 1910.133(a)(1). Please, don't follow her example and make sure to wear your goggles.

I will give her kudos for having the knee pad(?) but the rest of her clothing could probably do a better job. Unfortunately, Heavy Machinery is not OSHA-compliant.

The final comment I'd like to make on her is that if she is really wearing a battery on her back, I will have to give her kudos because those motherfuckers are heavy.

Adventurous Journey

A new environment! Actually, Adventurous Journey is adventuring throughout all of Miraland, and her item descriptions make mention of her visiting many several different places: an abandoned base, an old ruin, even a cave?

Adventurous Journey is wearing some pretty practical clothing, and her hand and foot protection look more than adequate. Her hammer looks like it's in great shape and, like Heavy Machinery, she even has her hair tied back. Her headlight is also a great choice.

While entering unknown spaces like caves can be dangerous, they typically aren't considered confined spaces. Besides that, it sounds like Adventurous Journey only went inside the cave to take shelter from the sandstorm instead of to explore.

Overall, I believe Adventurous Journey is OSHA-compliant. Have fun on your adventures!

Glacier Treader

Ada just wanted to learn something about penguins, but unfortunately she may end up learning something about ice water if she keeps up these unsafe practices.

According to 1910.28(b)(3)(i), employees should be protected from falling in holes by guardrails, covers, or something similar. Unfortunately, there is a giant hole in front of Ada and she has nothing keeping her from falling inside. The straps on her coat aren't attached to anything and that thing looks like it's about to fly off anyways. There may be a penguin in the hole, but such matters do not excuse Ada's research group's lack of fall protection.

On the bright side, the band-aids on Ada's face means that she has access to first aid and medical care!

Horn of Surprise

As fun as it would be to ride a giant candy train, it is unfortunately not OSHA-compliant.

As per 1910.21(b), a walking-working surface is any surface where an employee walks, works, or gains access to another work area. As the train conductor, Shebel is working on the top of the train, and thus it is subject to OSHA guidelines.

Unfortunately, the train is quite high off the ground - definitely more than 4 feet. Because of this, under 1910.28(b)(15), Shebel should have some sort of protection from falling to the ground below her, whether it be a guardrail, safety net, or another personal fall protection system.

She should probably also be wearing better PPE, too.

Ocean Lullaby

According to this suit's lore, Relly swims all the way to the deepest part of the ocean with only a narwhal. From the depiction of her and the fact that she apparently lost consciousness while at the bottom of the ocean, it seems pretty clear that Relly wasn't using proper PPE while swimming.

The most frustrating part about this suit is probably the fact that even the fish have PPE while Relly has nothing (though the efficacy of the snorkels is questionable). She should definitely have some air, and following the proper SCUBA diving procedures (1910.424) would be a great start.

Toy Carnival

What looks like an innocent, fun carnival game is actually an example of a potentially dangerous situation which requires a lot of work and planning. The crane machine is an example of a confined space, which is defined as a space that is large enough to do work, but has limited means for entry and exit, and isn't designed for continuous occupancy. Toy Carnival's crane machine appears to be a small space which doesn't have any immediately apparent way to get out.

There are no hazardous chemicals which would be present inside a claw machine. However, there is a physical hazard, which is the claw crane. Because of this, it is a permit-required confined space.

Toy Carnival is doing a lot of things right. She has an attendant outside (Momo), meaning she is compliant with 1910.146(d)(6). As long as Toy Carnival has a permit and followed all of the necessary procedures, she would be OSHA compliant if not for one thing: There is no visible sign designating the claw machine as a confined space. (1910.146(c)(2))

I will hold out hope that there is a sign on the back, because she was so close.

Explosion

We're going to ignore for the time being that Explosion takes place entirely inside a video game because well, it's all inside a video game one way or another, right? Anyways, you can tell a lot about Explosion just from the name.

Patrice is evidently in some kind of war-like environment. Not only are there guns and cannons going off everywhere, the "explosion" her suit is named for is the explosions of smoke grenades. She uses these to take cover and disguise herself.

While the gas mask is an excellent choice, unfortunately it's not enough. Due to the flying hazards (and probably the smoke too), Patrice needs to be wearing eye protection in order to be in compliance with 1910.133(a)(1), and head protection in order to be in compliance with 1910.135(a)(1).

Now onto another concern, no less pressing than the last: She's also apparently killing people. 1926.900 deals with explosives, and many of the standards mention avoiding the harm of other employees, which gives the impression that it generally isn't allowed. Not warning the others using warning signs, flags, or barricades before killing them with explosives is in direct violation of 1926.900(i).

I will commend Patrice on one thing, which is proper use of the buddy system as defined in 1910.120(a)(3) in the presence of unknown hazards. It sounds like she and Kuma work well together.

Honorable Mentions

Apocalyptic Angel, for her clothes and hair literally being on fire. I don’t know which OSHA violation that is, but it’s definitely something.

Crime Buster, for firing guns any which way without even looking. I don’t even want to touch that can of worms.

Space Fantasy, for not wearing gloves. In outer space.

Ingenious Trend, for allowing bats to carry needles. Again, not sure how that’s illegal, but it must be one way or another.

Appendix

1910.28(b)(3)(i) Each employee is protected from falling through any hole (including skylights) that is 4 feet (1.2 m) or more above a lower level by one or more of the following: 1910.28(b)(3)(i)(A) Covers; 1910.28(b)(3)(i)(B) Guardrail systems; 1910.28(b)(3)(i)(C) Travel restraint systems; or 1910.28(b)(3)(i)(D) Personal fall arrest systems.

(Glacier Treader)

1910.28(b)(15) Walking-working surfaces not otherwise addressed. Except as provided elsewhere in this section or by other subparts of this part, the employer must ensure each employee on a walkingworking surface 4 feet (1.2 m) or more above a lower level is protected from falling by: 1910.28(b)(15)(i) Guardrail systems; 1910.28(b)(15)(ii) Safety net systems; or 1910.28(b)(15)(iii) Personal fall protection systems, such as personal fall arrest, travel restraint, or positioning systems.

(Horn of Surprise)

1910.132(a) Protective equipment, including personal protective equipment for eyes, face, head, and extremities, protective clothing, respiratory devices, and protective shields and barriers, shall be provided, used, and maintained in a sanitary and reliable condition wherever it is necessary by reason of hazards of processes or environment, chemical hazards, radiological hazards, or mechanical irritants encountered in a manner capable of causing injury or impairment in the function of any part of the body through absorption, inhalation or physical contact.

(Heavy Machinery)

1910.133(a)(1) The employer shall ensure that each affected employee uses appropriate eye or face protection when exposed to eye or face hazards from flying particles, molten metal, liquid chemicals, acids or caustic liquids, chemical gases or vapors, or potentially injurious light radiation.

(Heavy Machinery, Explosion)

1910.135(a)(1) The employer shall ensure that each affected employee wears a protective helmet when working in areas where there is a potential for injury to the head from falling objects.

(Explosion)

1910.146(c)(2) If the workplace contains permit spaces, the employer shall inform exposed employees, by posting danger signs or by any other equally effective means, of the existence and location of and the danger posed by the permit spaces. NOTE: A sign reading DANGER -- PERMIT-REQUIRED CONFINED SPACE, DO NOT ENTER or using other similar language would satisfy the requirement for a sign.

(Toy Carnival)

1910.146(d)(6) Provide at least one attendant outside the permit space into which entry is authorized for the duration of entry operations;

(Toy Carnival - compliant)

1926.900(i) Employees authorized to prepare explosive charges or conduct blasting operations shall use every reasonable precaution including, but not limited to, visual and audible warning signals, flags, or barricades, to ensure employee safety.

(Explosion)

#love nikki #love nikki lore #love nikki suits #lowkey shitpost #lnduq

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jasontoddiefor · 4 years

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Title: Tuning up your TIE-Fighter to prove you’re better than the bastard currently running the TIE-Fighter Program for fun and profit

Summary: As a rule, Vader did not really do anything with his social media account, but then the rant of some kid from Tatooine about the inefficiency of TIE Fighters began trending, the pilots and engineers on the Devastator started fixing their ships and Vader got invested.

AN: This fanfic is almost 7.000 words long do yourself a favor and go read it on AO3.

“Why are all the engineers tearing through the ships?” Vader asked the officer in charge.

Truthfully, they hadn’t been sent on a campaign lately, but the Emperor liked to whimsically assign Vader and his ship to pointless random battles, so they always had to be prepared to head into combat and couldn’t afford all their Fighters to be in repair. Frankly speaking, most of the TIEs never saw any repairs. They were just scrapped and demolished. He supposed he should be glad his mechanics had enough sense not to start working on all ships simultaneously.

“They are fixing the life support and shielding of the TIEs, my Lord.”

The what.

“The TIE-Fighters don’t have deflector shielding,” Vader stated.

The Head Engineer nodded nervously and stood up straight. Vader hadn’t picked them for nothing. Their predecessor had been a weak sucker-up who had seen it fit to either doesn’t inform Vader about crucial decisions and changes or had bothered him about every little detail. This new one knew how to do their job or at least it had seemed like it up until now.

“We are aware, my Lord. But there was this video explaining how to easily make some changes to the TIEs and I saw it fit to ensure we reduce our damages,” they replied.

“What video?”

The Head Engineer fetched a datapad from the nearest table and searched through a couple files until they opened one, revealing a video. It appeared to have been posted on the holonet one and a half weeks ago and already had an impress number of views and comments. The entire video was several hours long, and had gained a few Reaction Videos as well.

The thumbnail showed a blonde boy, roughly fifteen if Vader were to guess, wearing a half undone overall and a tank top, standing next to a slightly older boy and an assassination droid, a severely damaged TIE-Fighter lying in the sands behind them.

Vader hit play.

The video started, showing the blond boy of before sitting in a makeshift workshop, a pair of goggles lying around his neck.

“Welcome to another episode of Scrap Hunting,” the teenager in the video said. He took a sip of water from the metallic canteen he was holding, drinking slow and carefully the way only a desert dweller did. “A couple weeks ago some sleemo commented that I’d never be able to improve any Imperial ships since I’m just Outer Rim trash.”

The boy took another sip, then set his canteen aside to reach for some parts that looked like they belonged to a half-finished droid.

“And I suppose you did have a point that the things I fix won’t ever reach the level of an Imperial TIE because I wouldn’t build such trash in the first place.”

The teenager’s face was fairly blank, but laughter could be heard coming from whoever was behind the camera, likely the other boy.

“So, to prove that I can do better, I sold a lot of speeders, ships and droids, repaired more terrible freighters than I can count, won several totally legal races and placed a couple of very fortunate bets in the palace of Jabba.”

The boy paused, then he smiled widely and, together with his cameraman, yelled “Boonta Eve Classic Champions!”

When he was done laughing, the boy continued talking. “Anyway, the point is, I made a lot of money to buy a lot of trash.”

The screen turned black and when it returned, it showed the image depicted in the thumbnail. The blond boy climbed on top of the TIE and smiled victoriously.

“So in today’s episode, I’m not only going to prove all you disbelievers wrong, I’m also going to drag the entire Tie-Fighter Program through the sarlacc pit. I’m Luke, the man recording is Biggs, my helper over there is HK-77 and this is Scrap Hunting.”

The first few notes of a song start playing and the channel’s logo, two suns overlaid by a speeder, showed up. The Head Engineer proceeded to stop the video, the screen frozen on the image of the boy grinning mischievously.

“He proceeds to begin to completely overhaul the damaged TIE he bought with alarmingly low cost and high efficiency within a few hours and, frankly speaking, embarrasses me. Some of the things Luke does never occurred to me and it should have, I went to one of Coruscant’s best universities-“

They sighed and put the datapad down. “Either way, we are now making changes to our TIEs. I apologize for not having informed you before, my Lord, but I assumed you��d approve of our Fighters being the most advanced on the field.”

The Head Engineer didn’t look like they regretted their decision, but they had obviously resigned themselves to whatever Vader decided their fate would be. They were loyal to Vader and his command. Vader needed people like them on his crew, not more of the Emperor’s spies.

“You presumed correctly,” Vader said. “Finish outfitting the TIEs you already began taking apart. I will watch the video of this Luke and see what exactly he has to say about the military.”

The Head Engineer saluted. “Yes, Sir! I won’t disappoint you!” Then they turned around and marched over to where the others had stopped working to watch their exchange and told them to get back to work.

Vader, meanwhile, took the datapad and returned to his own rooms. He had a video to watch.

Luke had not planned on becoming famous with a video titled Tuning up your TIE-Fighter to prove you’re better than the bastard currently running the TIE-Fighter Program for fun and profit. In fact, he had never expected any of his videos to gain the kind of following and attention they had even before that particular one. In all honesty, it had just started with him making a recording of how he fixed vaporators without taking them apart completely so his friend Biggs could do it as well. He’d just posted that on the net and kept going. First about droids, some more rambles about ships and a while back he’d finally been allowed to go to the shipyards on his own to earn some extra cash.

But then he had found HK-77 in a dumping ground. The droid had been severely damaged, but not so much that Luke couldn’t fix it. Assassin droids were intelligent, much more than any other ones and Luke could honestly use some extra hands around the farm and when he was repairing speeders. Biggs had recorded bits of Luke working on the droid, cut it together and uploaded it and people had loved it. His videos got more clicks, he got more subscriptions and here he was now.

Usually, Luke didn’t let comments get to him, but one obviously core-world spoiled bastard had discredited Luke’s skills without having any idea how terrible the Empire’s priced Fighters actually were.

“C’mon,” Biggs said, throwing an arm around Luke’s shoulders. “One last project before I leave for the Academy.”

Luke had also been trying his best to avoid thinking about how much he was going to miss his best friend. He wanted to leave with him – though not to be a common TIE-Fighter pilot, Luke wasn’t suicidal – but he couldn’t leave his family behind when they needed him.

“Alright,” Luke agreed, blushing. “Where are we going to get a TIE, though?”

Turned out that a TIE had crashed a while back and a junk dealer had picked it up. Unfortunately, despite its terrible damages, it was really expensive and Luke didn’t have that kind of money. It took a lot of work to scrap it all together – and he had been grounded for a month after winning the Boonta Eve Classic, but being the second human to ever win after Anakin Skywalker, his own father, had been worth it – but in the end Biggs and Luke had poured their funds together and bought the TIE.

And then the fun had started.

Vader sat down at his desk and pulled up the video again. He skipped to the moment the Head Engineer had stopped the video and hit play.

“Okay, first things first,” Luke said. “TIE’s were not made to be repaired. How do I know?”

Luke crawled into the pilot’s seat and opened the panels beneath it. “Because this is where the Empire would store the hyperdrive navigational systems, theft prevention protocols and life support, if the TIEs had any!”

He disappeared beneath the panels and began taking out the machinery, handing it to the HK-77 droid. Tatooine’s junkyards had always been a treasure chest, but finding C-3PO there had been astonishing. An assassination droid was worth much more than a mere protocol droid. Vader would have to check if the boy talked about how he’d acquired it somewhere.

“What kind of moron designs a ship that doesn’t have that?” Luke spoke up, his voice echoing. “I know who. They’re called Sienar Fleet Systems and go back to the Clone Wars.”

Luke stood up, and placatingly held up his hands. “I know, the Empire also made some pretty cool ships. I won’t lie, I’d kill to get my hands on the schematics on the Devastator, but the security of Kuat Drive Yards is too good.”

Luke paused.

“Not that I’d ever attempt to get a better look on them.”

The video zoomed in on Luke’s face and his frankly speaking terrible poker face in what was supposed be a comedic shot. Not many people would have the guts to admit they’d attempted to slice into KDY’s security and Vader doubted it was idiocy on the boy’s part. The youth was interesting and it became apparent rather quickly that he knew what he was talking about. He would certainly make a good asset to Vader’s crew, should he sign up.

“Point is,” Luke continued. “They cut all these extra measures out to lose weight and mass produce these TIEs with the lowest costs possible. However, even out here on Tatooine we’ve got ships with really small and efficient support systems, so I’ll dig through this mess down here and make some space for life support first.”

Luke then pointed on the rather large box standing next to him. “All I need for that is in this box. I uploaded the schematics to my usual server. It’s free to download, but I’d be very thankful if you could leave me a tip because I am broke until I’ve gotten this project done.”

Vader only skimmed through the next hours as Luke was working on taking the TIE’s insides apart. He explained what he was doing more or less coherently. It was clear he was lacking some of the terminological knowledge needed to describe the precise measures he took, but he was a rather efficient worker.

“Not sure yet if I can get my hands on a hyperdrive that won’t blow up on me, but we’ll see,” Luke said during the last minute of the video. “Theft prevention, however, I can work with.”

The video cut again and by now only the last beams of sunlight were illuminating the sands.

“Check this,” Luke said and pulled back his arm, a hydrospanner in hand, and threw it at full strength at the outer shell of the TIE. Upon impact, the TIE began blaring alarms.

“Nailed it,” Luke declared confidently while the HK-77 next to him gave him a thumbs up and presumably his friend behind the camera, held his thumb up in front of the recording as well.

“And this concludes part one of-“ Luke began to speak, only to be interrupted by a man’s shout.

“LUKE SKY-“

“Oh, shit,” Luke muttered, eyes wide. “Stop recording, Biggs, stop-“

The video ended and a couple of suggestions popped up, all with equally unserious titles such as ‘Killing it with a Murderbot’, ‘Repairing a hyperdrive but your arm is broken and All Stars is playing’ and ‘Garbage Summary of Republic/Imperial Ships’. The most recent upload was titled ‘Status Update: Scrap Hunters vs. Guardians.’

Vader decided to play it.

The channel’s introduction started to play against and soon after there was a recording of the black-haired boy playing.

“Hello, fellow Hunters,” the young man said, smiling widely. “I’m Biggs and unfortunately, I have to do today’s video by myself.”

He closed his eyes and in fake serenity added, “I hope you’ll enjoy it despite the lack of our overly bright mechanic and resident murderbot. Don’t worry, I know you’re all not actually watching this for me.”

Biggs sat still as writing appeared in the upper corner. I’m also just here for Luke. Hit me up at @darkestlight if you feel like it.

“Anyway,” Biggs continued and the writing disappeared. “This short video is just an update on our current situation. First of all, we’re super happy to see that so many people enjoyed our newest video. The next parts will be uploaded as soon as we can get our hands on the items we need, which might take a while given that Luke has been grounded from working on the TIE for the foreseeable future. If you have any questions for him though, feel free to drop him a message @skyseekerpilot, he’s still got access to the holonet.”

From out of the camera’s reach, he pulled a piece of flimsi, showing off the account’s name and a small doodle of what Vader assumed was meant to be Luke.

“Written by yours truly,” Biggs said and set the flimsi aside. “We’re thinking of doing a Q&A in the near future to bridge the time between the actual next update. Feel free to send us any kind of question! That being said, don’t miss us too much!”

The video stopped and Vader almost found himself being disappointed. The youth had certainly talked a lot about unimportant things, it was clear that he was a mere aid to Luke. Perhaps contacting the boy about his ideas would be worth it.

Luke was bored out of his mind. Honestly, he hated being grounded. Nothing new to tinker with, only work and endless hours of chores and browsing the holonet. He supposed he could work a little more on his schematics, but he didn’t really feel like it. Sitting down and actually sketching what he was thinking was always the most difficult part of the process. Most of the time, Luke just knew and could figure out what he had to fix. He worked by instinct alone, but that didn’t really help others so he had to write things down properly.

Annoyed, Luke flopped down on his bed again. He hoped that Biggs at least would be allowed to come over again soon. It was just so boring without anyone around.

“I could get rid of the problem,” HK-77 offered from where it was sitting in the corner.

“No, thank you, Hagekay,” Luke replied. “I guess I’ll just check the ‘net again.”

He took out his datapad and began skimming his usual sites. He watched the video Biggs had uploaded and looked a little though all the comments they’d already gotten. Their channel had really blown up in the past days and a lot of people seemed quite eager about the possibility of a Q&A, already shooting off questions. Luke switched over to his page and saw a steady amount of questions and comments come in. A lot of them were rather personal, but one caught his attention.

Fighterfan @thatsaneatrick asked:

You pay a great deal of attention to enhancing the pilot’s safety and protection in the events of a crash, but how do you intend to make up for the lesser maneuverability? The added weight will lower the TIE’s speed to 1,112 KPH and in actual combat, the added speed is necessary. If one considers the lack of deflector shields, the TIE becomes much more vulnerable, to a degree that even your additions will not work. I’d like to hear your suggestions as to how you would solve that problem.

Reading the message, Luke began to smile widely. Fighterfan had obviously sat down to do the proper math. Luke, admittedly, had only done some rough calculations but his result had been almost the same and he’d immediately began searching or results.

Easy, he wrote back, grinning like a madman. I add deflector shields and modify a hyperdrive of the Interio Class. ;)

Luke knew that his holonet connection wasn’t exactly the best. There was a reason Biggs was the one who uploaded their content. Sometimes, especially before, during and after sandstorms, Luke could forget doing anything with his datapad. So when he got a reply barely thirty minutes later, he knew that the other person must have replied immediately.

Fighterfan @thatsaneatrick replied:

The Interio Class hyperdrives are slow at best and do not work at all at worst. I take it you intend to break it down so far that it cannot actually do a hyperspace jump but still accelerates much faster than any other engine?

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot replied:

Exactly!!! :D Should push the speed back up to 1,200 KPH despite the added weight! I’d also suggest changing the wings to bent-wing solar arrays, but I don’t have the materials for that right now :/

Fighterfan @thatsaneatrick replied:

While the flight controls were designed to be intuitive and easy to learn, very few people would be skilled enough to fly a ship with the modifications you are proposing.

Luke smirked. It would be dangerous indeed, but he’d be able to make it. He’d stretch out his senses, feel the vast expanses of space around him, the million planets and stars and he’d rush right past them.

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot replied:

I could. :)

Vader hadn’t been sure what to expect of his conversation with Luke. The boy certainly proved that he was bright and clever. Not just intelligent, he knew exactly what his modifications would do to the TIE- Fighter. Despite his excessive need to tag emojis onto his every message and add exclamation marks, actually talking about ships to somebody who couldn’t care less about Imperial regulations was almost enjoyable. The boy’s suggestions were refreshing and unorthodox and a few of them even puzzled Vader for a moment until he was able to follow Luke’s train of thought.

Soon he found himself looking forward to the boy’s messages, even if he couldn’t bring himself to care particularly much about the daily life of a teenage moisture farmer. Unfortunately, he had to admit that he was almost a little annoyed Luke was still a child and therefore couldn’t accept a job offer. Well, Vader would simply have to wait a little longer to get his hands on his next Head Engineer. Until then, messaging him while pretending to listen to some Moffs blab away about the Death Star yet again, would have to suffice.

He had learned nothing but patience in the past years.

“Welcome back to Scrap Hunting!” Luke announced excitedly. “As you can see, I have returned to the land of the living!”

“He’s still grounded,” Biggs said next to him. “I’m just allowed to visit now.”

Luke rolled his eyes and lightheartedly punched his friend into his side. “Don’t make fun of me. I was incredibly lonely.”

Biggs smiled and messed up Luke’s hair in return. “Sure, whatever you say. Anyway! We collected a lot of comments in the meanwhile and decided to do the promised Q&A about ourselves. Luke, if you’d do the honors to read the first question.”

“Sure!”

Luke reached for the datapad in front of them and started it up. He spent a few moments scrolling through it, then stopped and began to read out loud. “For Biggs: In the video repairing Hagekay you said that it keeps threatening you. Does it still do that?”

“All the time,” Biggs replied seriously. He raised his hands in a what-can-you-do kind of way and then dropped them again with a sigh. “Literally. I don’t think this droid likes anyone but Luke and the mouse droid keeping the house clean.”

Biggs frowned and looked around as if he were searching for something. “Where is Emmy? It always seems so eager to clean up after me.”

Luke shrugged. “Maybe got lost in Aunt Beru’s closet again, wouldn’t be the first time. Alright, you do the next question.”

Biggs took the datapad from him and moved on to the next inquiry.

“What the kriff is your title song?” Biggs read, then groaned and buried his head in his hands. “Just let it die please.”

Luke on the other hand immediately jumped up in excitement. “Oh! It’s every fifth note of my favorite song so it doesn’t get taken down for copyright reason. I’ll put a link in the description.”

“Question #3: Where do you live?” Luke stared straight ahead into the camera. “Tatooine, Outer Rim desert world. Do not recommend unless you can survive without a lot of water.”

Beside him, Biggs nodded. “Indeed, not the best place to raise your children. Question number four: Could you upload Hagekay’s original programming?”

The two boys looked at each other and finally shook their heads while staring suspiciously at the camera again. “What could you possibly need the programming of an assassin droid for?”

“Next up: How old are you? And how long have you been working on projects like this?”

Luke frowned and turned to Biggs. “Didn’t we say that before once?”

Biggs only shrugged. “No idea, you talk a lot when you’re working.”

“You love to hear me talk,” Luke replied teasingly. “Well, I’m seventeen and Biggs is nineteen. I’ve been doing repairs on droids for as long as I can think. Speeders and ships are new additions.”

“Same for me,” Biggs said. “You can’t grow up in the middle of nowhere running a moisture farm and not be at least a half-decent mechanic. Okay, next question: What was your favorite project so far? Hmm, I think I enjoyed ‘Hagekay vs Emmy with a viroblade’ the most. You?”

Luke chewed on his lip and paused, deeply lost in thought.

“The TIE-Fighter,” he said eventually. “Even if I wasn’t so sure about it at first. That reminds me! I don’t know how many of you have seen the bits of the conversation that aren’t private, but you should seriously check out Fighterfan @thatsaneatrick. The ship modifications he speaks of are the best and a couple of them will definitely end up in the TIE, credit given, of course. When we’re done with this video, I’ll go right back to replying to your thoughts about navigation systems because I totally agree-“

“Alright, alright,” Biggs interrupted, clasping his hand over Luke’s mouth. “Nerd out with your new best friend somewhere I don’t have to see it.”

Luke huffed and, going by the way Biggs quickly pulled his hand away from his mouth and wiped it on his shirt saying “ewww”, had licked it.

“What are you? Five?” Biggs complained.

Luke laughed. “Compared to your mature six? Alright, next question-“

Fighterfan @thatsaneatrick

Have you thought about a way to solve the take-off issue yet?

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

Noooooo (TT^TT). It’s so stupid, why does anyone design a ship that lacks landing gear? I mean, I get it, these were built for space combat but it just seemed unnecessary that you need an extra start up. What do you do when somebody crashed on a planet? Leave them there????

Fighterfan @thatsaneatrick

Yes. TIEs are viewed as expendable, due to their cheap production costs, as are their pilots. The Empire prefers quantity over quality.

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

That just seems incredibly short-sighted. What kind of person doesn’t go back to save their friends?

Fighterfan @thatsaneatrick

You are wrongly presuming that TIE-Fighter pilots have friends.

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

So you don’t have any friends?

Fighterfan @thatsaneatrick

What?

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

Oh gosh I’m SO SORRY! I didn’t mean that, I just wanted to ask whether you were TIE pilot bc you seem to know the ships so well and I didn’t want to be rude

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

I’m sorry!!!

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

Super sorry!

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

Honestly, I didn’t mean to insult you. I apologize, I shouldn’t have said that.

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

Are you still there?

Fighterfan @thatsaneatrick

Yes. I was stuck in a briefing and couldn’t reply. You mustn’t worry. I do not have any friends, nor do I want them.

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

Oh, I’m glad I didn’t scare you off and I’m sorry for overreacting. But you really don’t have any friends? Doesn’t that get lonely? Biggs has been gone barely a couple weeks and I’m already going crazy. I miss him a lot.

Fighterfan @thatsaneatrick

You are too dependent on him, Luke. You do not need him.

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

I do! He always had my back, ever since we were small. And even if you don’t want any friends, you can be sure that I will consider you mine. No expectations of course! But I really enjoy talking to you and I have learned so much since we started talking!

Fighterfan @thatsaneatrick

I have also found our talks to be pleasant.

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

Yay!!!!

Fighterfan @thatsaneatrick

TIE Advanced x1

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

What?

Fighterfan @thatsaneatrick

You wanted to ask me whether I am a TIE-Fighter pilot. I own a TIE Advanced x1

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

WHAT

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

REALLY???? THAT’S SO COOL THEY ONLY STARTED MANUFACTURING THEM LAST YEAR. How fast does it accelerate? Are the stabilizers really that improved? No wait tell me about the hyperdrive which did they go with? Does it use a Class 4.0? I would have built in a Class 7.0 but they’re more expensive and hard to really stop correctly if you’re not like a great pilot ooOOOH WAIT

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

YOU are flying a TIE/AD!!!!!

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

YOU NEVER TOLD ME YOU’RE ACTUALLY IN THE IMPERIAL NAVY. Which ship do you serve on??? Please, please, please tell me about the Destroyers I’ve been wanting to compare them to Republic ships since FOREVER but I couldn’t find any good sources pls I’ll pay in an extra special videos

Fighterfan @thatsaneatrick

Give me a few hours.

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

YOU ARE THE BEST!

Vader could not fathom what was wrong with Luke. Nobody wanted to be friends with Darth Vader, certainly he had never given the boy the impression that he was interested in such a relationship? He had merely strived to see what the boy was capable of. He shouldn’t supply the boy with more in-depth plans to his ships and yet he found himself downloading the corresponding schematics. It had been a while since he had been able to carry on a conversation that was actually on his level and engaging as well. Luke was only improving and Vader wanted to keep him. Good personnel was hard to come by and Luke was something different entirely.

Fighterfan @thatsaneatrick

I have sent you the plans we talked about. Have you ever considered signing up for the Imperial Academy?

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

Yes, but I can’t go this year because my uncle still needs me on the farm :/

Fighterfan @thatsaneatrick

I am able to get you a contract as civilian consultant. You’d be able to work from home.

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

What? Is that really a thing?

Fighterfan @thatsaneatrick

If you give me your personal data, I’ll send you a contract.

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

Thank you!! It’s Luke Lars! My ID is T-LL-2187-A23. Also, uploaded a new video for you :D Hope you enjoy my misadventures!

Luke was sitting on his bed, HK-77 standing beside him, holding out various tools while the mouse droid Emmy was sitting in his lap.

“Hello, everybody and welcome to another episode of Scrap Hunting! Today is a special compilation dedicated too @thatsaneattrick, who basically gave me an early birthday present. So, sit back and enjoy a compilation of the things we usually cut from our videos! I’m Luke, my helper today is HK-77 and shout out to Biggs who is currently studying a couple of planets away from me!”

The video cut away to start showing the first in a series of rather short escapades featuring at least one member of the trio.

The first video showed Luke working on the TIE’s wings, singing underneath his breath. “This was not designed to land, this ship was not designed to land, this ship was not designed to be functional, functional at all.”

The next video depicted Luke working in the background while Biggs and HK-77 were staring intensely at each other, Emmy stuck between them, driving forwards and backwards like they were trying to keep the two from fighting.

“Where did you hide my hydrospanner.”

“I did no such thing, Biggs.”

The recording blurred as Biggs threw himself on HK-77.

It was dark. The camera slowly focused on Emmy attempting to drive up to the TIE fighter but getting stuck because of the sand. Two giggles could be heard.

“We have to help Emmy,” Luke whispered.

“Yes, wait- oh, Em’s gonna fall over-“

The video slowed down as Emmy tragically fell to its side and couldn’t get up again.

“It’s so kriffing clumsy, like a baby,” Biggs laughed.

“It’ll get there someday.”

In white writing, the message Hasn’t Happened Yet showed up.

“Luke, what are you?”

Luke sighed and looked downcast. “A good mechanic?”

“Then why is the TIE’s cockpit smoking?”

“I was just taking a look at the repulsorlift antigravity field- oh, kriff it’s burning.”

“What!?”

Ever since Biggs had left, Luke’s conversations with Fighter became the most fun part of his days. Sometimes, replies took a little longer depending on how busy and far away Fighter was, but their talks never failed to bring a smile to Luke’s face, no matter how standoffish Fighter acted.

Luke checked his messages again, hoping to catch a new message from Fighter. Sadly, none were in his inbox, only something from a stranger.

Lord Vader @ImperialCommand: Consultant Contract

Luke frowned.

Fighterfan @thatsaneatrick

Have you thought about my job offer yet?

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

Job offer? You were really serious about that? O.o

Fighterfan @thatsaneatrick

Of course, did you not see the attachment I sent you?

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

I never got a message with a job offer, so I thought you were joking!!! The only thing I got was a message by some guy pretending to be Vader. Didn’t even bother to open that, who knows what kind of virus I could have caught. -.-‘

Fighterfan @thatsaneatrick

Someone pretended to be Lord Vader? Surely nobody would actually be so ignorant.

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

Idk! I had to go on his holo page and it seemed legit but there’s no way the emperor’s slaver would ever message me I’m not that naive

…

Fighter?

Are you still there?

Fighterfan @thatsaneatrick

You would do well not to spread such rebel propaganda anywhere others could find them.

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

Rebel propaganda???

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

Do you mean the ‘slaver’ thing?

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

That’s not propaganda, that’s what Vader is. I know your serve in the Navy, and probably met him once or so. I can’t judge what kind of superior he might be, but his behavior is that of a slaver.

Fighterfan @thatsaneatrick

What do you know of slavery, child?

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

I live on Tatooine, remember? Hutts control everything. And my father was a slave, that’s why I have to go by my uncle’s last name, least of all somebody thinks I’m a runaway just cause my father’s name was ‘Skywalker’.

Fighterfan @thatsaneatrick

What was your father’s name.

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

His name was Anakin Skywalker, he died towards the end of the last war. Freed himself as a child and became a navigator on a spice freighter. I don’t know much more about him, my aunt and uncle only met him once for my grandmother’s funeral and that’s it. I’m sure he was a good man, though. I just know it.

The boy, Luke, was living Tatooine with his aunt and uncle. Vader had known his last name was Lars, had even seen him mention Owen and Beru multiple times, but he hadn’t made the connection-

Quickly, he pulled up the files he had made on the boy. It said in his documents that he had been adopted by Owen Lars and Beru Whitesun Lars, no mentioning of his biological parents anyway. Vader hadn’t paid any attention to it because it happened often enough on Tatooine. Newborns were smuggled bought out of the slave quarters so they’d get a better life. The boy could be lying, of course, but what would he seek to gain from this ploy?

Anakin Skywalker was dead and everything he had held dear had burned with him, his Master had seen to it.

But hadn’t the boy’s smile reminded him of his dear wife? His excitement for ships, his brilliance- Vader had assumed that some of his stories might have been exaggerated, but maybe he had performed all those death-defying stunts indeed and it was the Force which had saved him.

Luke Skywalker of Tatooine.

It was impossible to think that he had managed to find him through mere interest. The Force must have led him to his son.

His son.

His Master had lied to him, deceived and betrayed him.

Snarling, Vader left his rooms behind and marched towards his personal hanger. He had to go now, reach his son and protect him before the Emperor would diminish his light. Vader would make them pay, all of them, every single person involved in keeping his child from him would be destroyed.

The past weeks had not been particularly interesting or happy for Luke. Ever since his discussion with Fighter, the other man had completely cut their communication. No matter how many messages Luke sent him, he didn’t reply.

He supposed he should have seen it coming. Fighter didn’t say much about his background, but if he was skilled enough to be trusted with a TIE/ad, he had likely grown up on some Imperial Core World, surrounded by the Empire and Vader’s image and didn’t see things the way some Outer Rim kid would. It was too bad that their conversation had stopped. Even if they couldn’t agree on the Empire’s policies, ships were still ships.

He’d miss talking to Fighter.

Luke dragged himself out of his room to go in the kitchen for lunch. He had halfway crossed the homestead when a man in a dark robe hurried down the steps.

“Luke!” He said and threw back his hood, revealing himself as Old Ben Kenobi.

“Oh, hi, Ben! Is everything alright?”

Ben shook his head and a pained expression crossed his face. He looked like he was in a hurry, but Luke could feel the fear lingering in the air.

“We need to go, now,” Ben said hurriedly. “Where are your aunt and uncle?”

“Aunt Beru went into the city and Uncle Owen is out working on the vaporators,” Luke replied slowly.

Ben’s behavior was confusing him. He’d known the older man since he could think. He had never said a thing, but Luke knew he was the one who had made a lot of the model ships now proudly displayed in his room and made sure the Tuskens stayed away from their homestead.

Ben was a nice and kind man, carrying a lot of grief. He was a little strange, but not mad. If he was worried about something, Luke figured he should as well.

“Then there is no time to get them,” Ben said and took Luke’s hand. “We must hurry.”

“Ben, what’s going on?” Luke asked and let himself be pulled along to the homestead’s entrance and out into the sun. “Why are we running?”

“We need to go before he’s here-“ Ben stopped abruptly and stared right ahead.

A black demon stood in some distance from the two of them. He looked like the monsters out of the stories Luke had been told as a child and now knew to be real. Lord Vader.

Ben let go of Luke’s hand and took a step forward, keeping Luke behind him.

“Kenobi.” Vader’s voice was deep, mechanic and artificial. “I have finally found you.”

“So you have, Darth,” Kenobi replied and ignited a lightsaber of a light blue color.

Vader followed suit, his blade an angry red and soon after they were clashing against one another, whirling up the sand. Luke hadn’t known Ben could fight like that, keep every move so fluent despite the ground he was standing on. He met each of Vader’s aggressive strikes with equal strength.

Luke felt like he was suffocating.

He had to stop them, he knew it. He didn’t know why or how, but if he didn’t do anything, the desert would swallow them up.

“What is going on!?” Luke shouted. The two fighters turned to him and it occurred to Luke only then that shouting mid-battle was probably not his smartest move, but what else was he supposed to do.

“You have been deceived all your life, young one,” Vader said. “Kenobi stole you from me, kept you hidden so you wouldn’t inherit your birthright.”

“My birthright,” Luke repeated. “I’m sorry, what are you even talking about.”

“Your father-“

“Was a good man,” Ben interrupted, his words as sharp as a knife. “And you ruined him.”

“You left me to burn!” Vader screamed. “You said you loved me and you left me behind for Sidious to take and remake as he wanted. You took my son from me and let him grow up on the Force-forsaken planet! You stole years from me, months of being unaware of who I was talking to.”

My son, the winds seemed to echo Vader’s words, dancing around Luke’s small frame. The weight behind them almost seemed to push him over.

“Father?” Luke realized. The wind roared in agreement, rushed through Luke’s mind as a barely comprehendible mess acknowledging an impossible truth.

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

Going on a galactic roadtrip for the foreseeable future! :D

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

(Somebody please get me off this ship they keep glaring at each other it’s so awkward)

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

Pros of having parents: You don’t have to pay for lunch Cons of having parents: Lunch is ration bars

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

If not for the laws of this galaxy I’d have a glowing sword to cut through durasteel with

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

I have adopted 4 more mouse droids to keep our ship clean!

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

I love discovering I have a godfather who is also a pirate while being held hostage by said godfather. 5/10 experience

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

I have the power of the Force and Hydrospanners on my side!!!

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

Turns out HK-77’s programming was not as thoroughly deleted as I thought. My bad.

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

TIE-Fighters still suck. New video tomorrow together with @thatsaneatrick

“Hi!” The video showed a young blond man standing in what appeared to be a huge hanger. He was a little older than he had been in the last video uploaded on the channel.

Next to him sat an older man whose skin was as pale as ash. Many scars covered his face, the only part of his body that was actually visible. The rest was covered by dark robes. The third member of the group was another man with snow-white hair and beard. He sat in a safe distance from the ship behind the other two, reading through a datapad while drinking a cup of tea. All three of them carried lightsabers and it was practically impossible to ignore them.

“Welcome back to another episode of Scrap Hunting!” The blond continued. “I know, it’s been a year but I was pretty busy.”

He glanced at the man beside him and leaned slightly into his side, as if he were seeking comfort.

“Today we’re finally concluding our series ‘Tuning up your TIE-Fighter to prove you’re better than the bastard currently running the TIE-Fighter Program for fun and profit’. Unfortunately, the original TIE-Fighter was lost, but Father crashes so many that we could easily start from scratch with a new one. The focus of this episode is finally adding the safety that prevents the twin ion engines from moving an energizer out of alignment so that the recharge systems won’t become ticking time bombs. Henceforth, we dedicate this episode to Darth Sidious, alias Emperor Palpatine. My name is Luke Skywalker. The man in the back is my Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi-“ The old man looked up from his datapad to wave at the camera and then continued on reading “-and my helper today is my Father.”

Luke paused and smiled softly while the scarred man put his hand on Luke’s shoulder. The gesture seemed almost a little possessive, would certainly be like it if the man’s touch weren’t as gentle as a feather.

“My name is Anakin Skywalker,” the man said, his blue eyes shining as brightly as Luke’s, but much colder in nature. “And I’m coming for you, Sidious.”

The video flashed black, then brightened again, depicting a round emblem of two wings settled around a sword.

#star wars #Luke Skywalker #darth vader #Anakin Skywalker #biggs darklighter #obi wan kenobi #fanfic #memes and vine references

151 notes · View notes

caranfindel · 4 years

Text

Initial reaction 15.14: Last Holiday

Well, friends, here we go. Are you ready?

(I'm not. But here we go anyway.)

THEN: Cuthbert Sinclair. (Really? That's a deep cut.) Abbadon. Larry Ganem. (And S8 Sam, who is fucking gorgeous.) Oh, and God and Jack and all that stuff, in case you forgot.

NOW: Sam's in the library, doing research, and is distracted by some ominous noises. Ominous in a machinery-breaking-down kind of way, not in a monstery kind of way. Enter Dean, wearing an apron. "What's with the apron," asks Sam, "because it's only protecting your jeans, not the Red Shirt of Bad Decisions." At least that's how it sounded in my head. I mean, who only gets dirty from the waist down when they're cooking? (Well, that lends itself to all kinds of double entendres, doesn't it?) Or maybe Sam doesn't say that because he hopes the RSoBD will be destroyed in a tragic burger accident.

Seriously, Dean, that shirt is precious and you need to protect it, no matter what Sam thinks.

Dean complains that the pilot light keeps going out, and the hot water is unsatisfactory (and we know how he feels about his showers), and Sam reminds him that if the bunker was ever state-of-the-art, it was in the 50s. They exposition for us that Jack is hiding in his room. "Can you blame him?" Sam says. "His soul is back. Everything is hitting him. Everything he's done..." And Sam continues, but I'm sorry, I'm stuck here, thinking about re-souled Sam with everything hitting him. {sob} However, neither of the Winchesters seem to be thinking about this, so. Carry on.

The guys remind us that if Jack kills God, he'll have to kill Amara as well. Which I assume means Amara isn't going to get killed? Just saying. As much as I talk about foreshadowing (too much, please stop!) this show teases us with anti-foreshadowing with equal fervor. And Cas is apparently looking for Amara? What does he hope to accomplish? "Excuse me, but we're killing your brother, so you have to die too. Condolences. But if we follow canon - not that there's any reason to assume we will - you have to die at about the same time. So I need you to come with me while we figure out where he is and how to kill him."

There's another ominous noise, and Dean says "Oh, come on. Now the air?" I hope he means the air conditioning, and not the air purifying/exchange/whatever that Ketch shut off when he locked them in the bunker back in... whatever the BMoL season was. Hey, remember when the guys were locked in the bunker and they were running out of air and they wore single layers and goggles and got all sweaty and depressed? Because I've kind of never gotten over it. But I digress.

Sam is surprised that Dean expects them to fix it. "We've fought the devil," Dean says. "I've killed Hitler. I think we can handle a few old pipes." Surely this isn't the first time they've had to do some repairs around the place.

Deep within the bowels of the bunker, Sam reads some ancient instructions and complains that they can't just call a plumber. Dean refers to the bunker as the most "secretive, secure supernatural hideout in the world," which makes me laugh, because remember when Larry Ganem told Sam it was secure against all manner of evil? What a joke. Is there anything or anyone evil who hasn't been able to get into the bunker? My house is more secure against evil than the bunker, and all I have for protection is a circle of termite bait and a couple of ancient dogs.

They locate the "bunker grid control center thing thingy" (oh Sam, I adore you), complete with reset and standby buttons. Standby is glowing. Dean hypothesizes that it will work just like his computer, which needs to be shut down when it gets too many popups (I suspect you need some virus protection, dear boy), and slams down the reset button before Sam can stop him. Everything goes dark, but then starts up again, so Dean considers it a success. He calls himself "Meat Man" again and heads upstairs to finish cooking his burgers.

Time jump. Dean goes into his room, carrying a burger and a beer, and is astonished to find a middle-aged woman there. She's wearing a plaid wool skirt I owned in the 80s and is folding his underwear. "Oh, hello dear!" she says cheerfully. Dean yells for Sam.

Gosh, Dean, it's like this place isn't secretive or secure at all.

The horrified Shaggy and Scooby boxers are ~chef's kiss.~ Well done, someone.

Title card!

Library. The woman tuts at dust and wonders how they've lived in "this filth," which reminds me of an awesome Tumblr post which theorizes that faeries actually keep the bunker clean, and only first-born son Dean can see them. "Lady, who the hell are you," Dean demands, and is chastized for his language. He calls for Sam again, and gives him the story of how he walked into his room and found her "folding my underthings."

She explains that her actual name is indecipherable in "your tongue," but "Mr. Ganem called me _Mrs. Butters."_She's a wood nymph. And she's not in the woods, nymphing (thank you Dean) because she has more important things to do - she lives in the bunker and takes care of the Men of Letters. I.e., "my boys. My family."

Dean invites her to leave, but this is her home, and she's been here since "before the war." And she thinks it's 1958. "Well, I hate to tell you," Dean says, "but it's 2020." YES, DEAN, WE ALL FEEL THAT WAY ABOUT 2020. Mrs. Butters is horrified to learn all her boys are dead. And for some reason Dean tells her they were murdered by a demon instead of saying old age, or they went to a farm upstate, or whatever. She spots a photo of the last group of MoL, which we've never noticed before, and realizes that this is why they never came back from that last ceremony. When they didn't return, she decided to put the bunker - and herself - in standby mode.

But she also realizes that if these boys are like those boys, it's been a while since they had a home-cooked meal or celebrated a holiday. Or washed their clothes, as she makes a face. That's uncalled for, lady. We all know that Sam Winchester smells like rosemary and mint no matter how long it's been since he did laundry. Sam explains that they're not really "holiday people," which rings true coming from the guy who didn't want to celebrate Christmas and hates Halloween. (And only had one real Thanksgiving in his life and his brother still holds that against him but NO I'M NOT BITTER.)

Dean is more interested in what "standby mode" is. Mrs. Butters says the MoL used her magic to give the bunker "extra oomph," and snaps her fingers. Voila, extra oomph! There's some humming noises, the telescope alcove lights up (!), and an alarm sounds. Because the map table is actually a monster radar, and it indicates a nest of vampires 50 miles away. And gives the address. WELL.

{Sidebar: Why didn't the BMoL know the AMoL had this capability? Why was their focus on "you're not as good as us" instead of "you used to be as good as us; what happened?" Discuss.}

Do I care? No. Because look at these precious perplexed faces.

Dean's ready to go (and it earns him another stern warning about his language), but Sam wonders if they can trust her. "Look at her," Dean says. And I agree. She's a dumpy middle aged woman in a brown plaid wool skirt. She's basically me. And who could be more trustworthy, more concerned with the Winchesters' health and safety, than me?

Um. Anyway.

Not to change the subject or anything, but the pretty is strong tonight, y'all.

Dean suggests they give her the benefit of the doubt, and if it turns out she's not what she says she is, "then we deal with it." The music turns ominous. "What about Jack?" Sam asks.

Oh, Jack is actually in this episode? I thought maybe they were explaining his absence earlier, like they always do with Cas. (Because I always cover the guest star credits on first watch. Spoilers.) But it turns out Jack is actually with us tonight. Sitting on his bed, looking depressed. Dean knocks on his door and tells him they're going out, and there's a "probably harmless" guest making snickerdoodles. This sparks Jack's interest. It would work on me, too. I love snickerdoodles.

Impala. Sam's not sure it's a good idea to keep Mrs. Butters around, even if she is legit. He's concerned about Jack, but Dean brushes him off.

He'll be fine. I mean, I've been through worse and look at me. I'm the picture of health.

Ignoring your trauma doesn't make you healthy.

Sure it does.

Oh, Sam. Just listen to yourself. No, I mean, please. Listen to yourself.

Sam feels like Jack is hiding something, and I wish there were someone around who had also done awful things while un-souled, and remembered what it felt like to deal with that afterward. Someone sympathetic and empathetic. With soft puppy dog eyes and beautiful hair. Oh well. I guess Jack will just have to go unburden himself onto whoever he comes across.

Bunker. Mrs. Butters brings Jack a sandwich. He doesn't open the door, but she leaves it for him.

Vampire nest. A couple of vampires are watching Dark Shadows (so meta!) and drinking blood stolen from a blood bank. So, are these, like, maybe not bad vampires? Maybe they don't kill people? We'll never know, because Sam and Dean walk in and cut off their heads. And come home to... Christmas. Lights are strung all over, jazzy Christmas music is playing, there's a huge decorated tree and gifts, and Mrs. Butters has a tray of homemade cookies. "We are so keeping her," Dean says. Sam looks unsure.

Kitchen. Mrs. Butters tells Sam that since he and Dean have been so busy killing monsters, they haven't had a chance to celebrate anything. But I can barely pay attention to a single word that comes out of the woman's mouth because LOOK AT SAM IN THIS T-SHIRT. LOOK AT IT.

Single-layer Sam is something to celebrate.

She insists that Sam "enjoy the world you're fighting for" (which is never gonna happen, lady) and excitedly talks about all the holidays she wants to make up for. Then Jack enters, and her mood changes instantly. Even Jack's adorable little dorky wave doesn't melt her. "What are you?" she asks coldly.

Enter Dean, wearing a real-life version of the purple "sleeping robe" and nightcap he wore in "Scoobynatural." OH MY GAWD. I really hope this was a surprise for the rest of the cast.

And I also hope he's not really going commando underneath... or do I?

Mrs. Butters is distracted enough to decide that if the boys vouch for Jack, he must be okay. She hands Jack a smoothie but tells Dean he must have tomato juice due to his cholesterol. And she pronounces it the Patrick Stewart way, not the Mark Hammil way.

Before Dean can drink his to-mah-toh juice, the monster radar alarm goes off, and the guys rush off to prepare for a hunt. For future reference, when you leave the kitchen, Sam's room is to the right and Dean's is to the left. We next see the guys fully dressed, receiving sack lunches from Mrs. Butters. Dean's sandwich has the crusts cut off. {Sidebar: Sam never had someone to cut the crusts off his sandwich. Hold me. And also, how many reminders am I going to have of "Dark Side of the Moon" tonight?} She tells Sam the monster is a lamia, the blessed knives are in the trunk, and she just waxed the car so Dean needs to take it easy.

As the guys rush off, she turns to Jack and his smoothie mustache. "Well. What shall we do with you?"

NOTHING GOOD, I'M SURE.

As Jack helps wash dishes, he fills her in. Lucifer was his father, Mary was his family and his friend but he killed her. Mrs. Butters is very supportive, telling him "life gives us second chances and it's our obligation to hold onto them." And she presents him with another smoothie.

Montage! Thanksgiving dinner. More hunts. More sack lunches. Halloween (and even Sam seems to enjoy it). Fourth of July. (Yet another "Dark Side of the Moon" shoutout). A hunt requiring the grenade launcher and Thor's hammer from that episode whose title I can't remember! Sam's birthday! By the way, none of these holiday celebrations include Cas.

Mmmm. So worthy.

Time jump. Jack catches Mrs. Butters looking at something in a file cabinet and being very sneaky about it. He requests another smoothie to get her out of the room, and then finds what she was looking at. It's her MoL file, including a reel of film. The film shows Cuthbert Sinclar talking about File 5150 (aw, RIP Eddie Van Halen). The subject was actually recovered from the Thule (aw, "Everybody Hates Hitler") and we learn that wood nymphs "react violently when home or family are threatened." Sinclair says he "conducted a series of experiments designed to show this strange and magical being of our mission" and convinced her to join the MoL family. Huh. Wonder how he did that. Then Mrs. Butters demonstrates her devotion by literally ripping the head off a Thule. "Son of a bitch," says Jack, because he's been spending a lot of time with Dean.

Jack runs into the war room looking for Sam (and yes, I'm petty enough to love that he looks to Sam first), who is off getting ready for a "big date." Huh. Okay. Mrs. Butters offers him soup, but then Sam walks in, giving off some pretty strong Hot Professor Sam vibes (hello again, "Everybody Hates Hitler") with a sweater vest and tie, and I am thrilled with this development.

Thrilled, I tell you.

Mrs. Butters tells him he looks wonderful but offers to trim his hair (back off, lady, I will cut you) and Dean enters in time to make a weak Abercrombie and Bitch joke. Sam tells him Eileen's in town, and he's taking her out to dinner and "some privacy, something."

"Heavy on the something," Dean says, and we're going to talk about that later, I promise. But for now, Mrs. Butters tells Sam to take one of the old cars from the garage. Finally. Can we just make this permanent? Can Sam have his own fucking car, please? She produces a bouquet of roses from nowhere and sends him on his adorably anxious way. Then she tells Dean she found a broken TV in one of the rooms and fixed it. "The Dean Cave?" Dean is off like a shot. I wonder if that's the TV he smashed with a hammer, and if so, how did she fix it? (Also, hello again, "Scoobynatural.")

Jack is still unsettled. He follows her into the dungeon and tells her he saw the film. {Sidebar: The film showed her killing one of their enemies because she's protective of the MoL. Is it really that awful? Discuss.} "And how did that make you feel?" she asks. "You relished his pain, didn't you, Jack?" Oh, turns out that was a setup - she wanted Jack to see the video, so she could confirm that he was a bloodthirsty little monster. And do the Winchesters know how powerful he has become?

They should be scared of you!

I would never hurt them.

You have before, haven't you? Have you ever thought that Sam and Dean keep you in here, closed in, secure, because they're scared you'll do to someone else what you did to their mother?

Well, I mean. Now he has. She flings Jack into the wall. He tries to use the glowy eyes on her, but he finds himself powerless. She snaps the magic handcuffs on him. "You didn't think those smoothies were for your health, did you? Oh, I've learned a few things while I was doing the dusting around here. A little yarrow root, some ground jawbone for texture, and voila! You are as weak as a puppy."

Wait. That's all it took? To power down a nephilim, who is canonically more powerful than his archangel parent? So when the Winchesters were trying to take down Lucifer and AU Michael, all they needed was some yarrow root and ground jawbone? And the answers were all right here in the bunker?

(Sigh. Don't think about it. That way lies madness.)

(Also, canon! Ha ha ha ha.)

She tells Jack she's making the bunker safe again and getting rid of all the monsters. Like you, sweetness. Aw. Sad Jack.

Kitchen. Dean comes in looking for a snack and is immediately presented with some kind of grilled sandwich. She tells him to eat it, because he'll need his strength when they go kill Jack. Aw, that's the sound of a heart breaking.

Dean is disappointed that their good thing has gone "full Nurse Ratchet," and glances longingly at the sandwich he has to leave behind. He takes Mrs. B's knife and suggests they let Jack go and pretend this never happened. The only logical conclusion is that Dean is under Jack's spell, so he gets tossed into the dungeon too. Oh, cool. Does that mean Sam gets to be the hero and save them?

Spoiler alert: Ha ha ha ha no.

Hello, Demon Dean. That's the only other time we've seen this expression, isn't it? {Or is it simply the only one branded onto my brain? Discuss.)

Map table room. Sam comes in and is met by Mrs. B. "Bit past your curfew, Samuel," she says curtly. He's no longer wearing his tie. Hmm. So, let's talk about the Eileen situation. Isn't it weird that (1) Dean didn't know she was in town, and (b) she's not spending the night at the bunker? Wouldn't you think she'd be a house guest? I mean, she's not "in town" for the heck of it. The only thing that would bring her to Lebanon would be Sam. So why isn't she here seeing Sam? Is she just driving through on her way somewhere else? She can't even spend one night in the bunker? And the tie? If Sam removed his tie, doesn't that strongly suggest Dean was right about the "something" going on? Did they do it in the back of the old car? At a hotel? I have questions, friends.

Anyway. Sam asks where Jack and Dean are, since it's late and they should be sitting around the map table waiting for him to come home and not, like, in bed or anything. "Well, I have some good news, and some bad news."

HERE IS SOME GOOD NEWS INDEED.

Honestly, I like this look better without the tie.

Time jump.

So, Jack has taken over Dean's mind. And they're both downstairs, right now, ready to be killed by us.

You were always the smart one, yes.

Sam, who is the smart one, says he's going to go to his room and get his gun, and he'll meet her in the dungeon. "And we can... get to the killing." I LOVE HIM. {Sidebar: I have watched his fake relieved sigh several times and it makes me smile every time.} Once he’s safe in his room, Sam calls Dean and starts to tell him about Mrs. Butters.

Went psycho, we know.

Why didn't you call me?

Well, I mean I, you know, I figured you were "practicing your sign language."

And that's more important than coming to save you?

...

Dean?

It's been a while for you, man, you know?

Aw. Always the supportive big brother. {Sidebar: As long as Sam is doing something Dean thinks Sam should be doing. But I digress.}

{Sidebar: I love Dean, y'all know I do. Warts and all. He'd be boring if he were perfect.}

Dean suggests Sam shoot her, although they don't know if a gun will kill her because neither of them got around to researching it because they were distracted by Christmas and Thanksgiving and breakfast on Boxing Day. That's how you get killed, guys. {Sidebar: How much do I love that Sam calls it Boxing Day? For my Brit friends, that's not really a thing in the U.S., although it's gradually starting to become one. And I love it.}

Dean then suggests that putting the bunker in standby mode might put Mrs. B in suspended animation again. Meanwhile, Jack and Dean are stuck in the dungeon. Jack suggests using his power to remove the cuffs, but Dean points out that the power surge would catch Chuck's attention. But what power surge? Jack already tried to use his power against Mrs. B and it turned out he didn't have any.

Jack suspects there are other reasons Dean doesn't want him to use his power, and suddenly decides it's time for a deep conversation.

Do you still think I'm a monster? Okay, I'm just gonna say this, okay? Just get it out there. Jack, I'm trying, okay? I really am. But what you did, that's not easy to forget. Now, I was angry with you. For a while. And maybe I still am a little bit, okay? But I'm not gonna let some evil Mary Poppins take you out. You understand?

Okay. Good talk.

Sam shows up in the library looking for Mrs. B, and trying to hide his gun, as if he hadn't told her he was going to his room specifically to retrieve said gun. But Mrs. B realizes he's trying to kill her, and freezes him. She's not mad, she's just disappointed. She tosses him into a chair and keeps him there with the power of her mind, not with rope or anything, in case you were wondering. {Oh, hello, "Funeralia" and "The Trap."} She tells him that when the MoL first found her, she didn't realize how important they were. But Mr. Cuthbert explained it to her. And since Sam is her favorite, she's not going to give up on him. Yet. She's going help Sam the same way Mr. Cuthbert helped her understand. Well, that doesn't sound ominous at all.

He's my favorite too! And I also think he needs to be hurt! See, she's basically me!

Dungeon. Dean is going to try to chop Jack's handcuffs off.

You're sure this is gonna work?

Let's say yes.

Aw. That was a perfect opportunity to bring back "maybe 90% sure." And it doesn't work - Jack is sent flying into a glassed-in cabinet that I've never seen in the dungeon before. Dean says "dang it" before remembering that he can use his big boy words, which is adorable. And then he gets an idea.

Upstairs. Mrs. B tries to convince Sam that Jack is a monster because he's Lucifer's son. Sam, of course, takes the opposite side of this debate. "Now, Mr. Cuthbert taught me that pain can be a wonderful teacher. Let's see if it can't correct your ways."

I SWEAR, Y'ALL, SHE IS ME.

Sam could sneer at her and say "I've been tortured by the devil himself; what can you do to me?" but we don't have that version of Sam any more. Mrs. B, without tools, yanks off one of his fingernails. {Oh, hello "A Very Supernatural Christmas!"}

Meanwhile, downstairs, Dean has a different theory on pain. It's just "weakness leaving the body," he tells Jack. We get a little "on three" bit, where he actually does the thing on one. And the thing is that he tries to cut Jack's handcuffs again, but this time Jack is strategically placed in front of the dungeon door. So when he's thrown back by the blast, he ends up breaking the door down.

Upstairs. Sam's been relieved of even more fingernails.

Downstairs. Dean takes a hammer (!) and smashes the reset button. Why doesn't he just push it with his hand? I mean, sure, we get the hammer, and the red lights and warning klaxon, and all of that turns me into Pavlov's dog {Hello, "Soul Survivor"}. But still. Seems unnecessary.

Upstairs. Mrs. B seems to be gone, and Dean bends over like he's untying Sam's wrist. But Sam's wrists aren't tied to anything, so. I got nothin'.

Downstairs. The runes that seem to hold Mrs. B in stasis light up, but do not stay lit. Well, that can't be good. And then the bunker grid control center thing thingy starts shaking and springs a leak. Ooops. Here she comes, complete with glowy green eyes.

Upstairs. Dean finishes untying Sam from the chair he wasn't tied to, and remarks on how gross his tortured hand is. Mrs. B shows up, yells that they've all been very bad, and flings them across the room. She's sure Sam will thank her someday for killing Jack, because it's so important to kill monsters and keep the MoL safe. It's why she couldn't go back to her forest. Sam explains to her that Mr. Cuthbert tortured her and used her, and Dean tells her Jack is going to save the world. Oh, okay then. The regular lights turn back on and Mrs. B tearfully says she misses the MoL so much.

Aftermath. Mrs. B heals Sam's hand and apologizes and all is immediately forgotten and once again, Sam gets to forgive his torturer and turn the other cheek. Yay! Sam, what was it you said earlier?

Gif stolen from @michaeldean

The guys send Mrs. B back to the woods, but first they have this conversation:

Sadly, without my magic, the bunker will revert to standby mode, so. Ah well, things were getting too easy anyway, you know? Who needs a monster radar? Or whatever that telescope thing is? It's an interdimensional geoscope. It's a what? I looked in it earlier; I didn't see anything. Oh. Well that's not good.

Holy crap, you guys. Interdimensional. It let the MoL look at the alternate worlds. And now you can't see anything because all of the alternate worlds have been destroyed. Gotta admit, this is an excellent little twist.

Jack presents Mrs. B with the photo of the MoL. "Oh look," she says. "The man who tortured me and kept me from my home, right here, front and center." Well, no, she doesn't. But I do.

Mrs. Butters gives them some last instruction. "Dean, eat your vegetables. And Sam, cut your hair. And Jack, go save the world." Well, I'm in favor of one or two of those things.

Try to tell me I'm wrong. Just try.

After-aftermath. Jack tells Sam that he doesn't know if he can kill God, since he was sidelined by a wood nymph "because I was stupid." He asks if Sam thinks he can do it.

"Jack, you're the only who can." No pressure.

Dean shows up with a truly awful-looking birthday cake for Jack. "I made it myself. Obviously." But Jack is thrilled because it's from Dean, and it means Dean loves him and has forgiven him, until the plot requires otherwise. He makes a wish and blows out his single candle. Fade to black.

So! There were parts of this that were simply marvelous. There were parts that were kind of dumb. There were parts that would have made me very angry if I weren't so tired and jaded. But the good parts were darn good, and the pretty was dialed up to 11, and we all know I'm a sucker for a pretty episode. And there was NO B PLOT. AT ALL. Thank you baby Jesus.

And let’s just refuse to consider the possibility that these were, in fact, their last holidays. Thanks.

Now I get to see what you thought about it. And, as always, please help me stay unspoiled for future episodes, including episode titles and casting info. {smooches}

#spn #15.14 #initial reaction #recap #tv recaps #spoilers

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genaleah · 4 years

Text

Theremin Labs basics

*cracks knuckles* Let's do this.

To start off, here's a recap of names and fates:

Dr. Lino Rodriguez Eadful - Super Villain "Dr. Dreadful"

Dr. Harold Manuxet - Fish Person

Dr. Parie Wernicke - Visible Nervous System

Dr. Vic Oersted - Shadowy Force of Nature??

Dr. Rosemary Lorraine - Extremely Haunted Woman

Dr. Neil Kirby - Computer with a Trapped Consciousness

Lexin - Neil's Formerly Unconscious Body

They weren't terribly close before "The Incident". They knew each other's names, but even then, some of them were more comfortable calling each other 'Dr. [Surname]'. Acquaintances, but not friends. The only exceptions to the rule were: Dread & Harold who were college roommates, Neil & Vic who had lots of lab experience working together, and Dread & Rosemary who became close friends at Theremin because of similar tastes and personalities! Harold also had a big ol' crush on Parie (and still does).

As for what exactly happened during the Mad Science Bender! If you ask them, the details are kind of fuzzy - everything happened really quickly, and it was late at night. And the one guy who should know the how and why DOESN'T- it was an accident! Dread didn't mean to attack everybody. He wasn't thinking clearly!

You know how you shouldn't keep your drinking water on your desk when you're painting, because you might grab the cup full of paint water instead? That's what happened to Dread - except the beaker he grabbed was full of an unstable, untested energy drink that he was working on. It boosted his adrenaline, senses, and brain power... But at the cost of his inhibition and critical thinking.

In his mind, he thought he was helping everybody - helping them get closer to their life's work, cut out the barriers, etc... For him, the bender is a TOTAL blur, he only sort of remembers vague dream-like impressions of what he did and mostly came away from it with the memory of how he felt... Totally confident, excited, passionate, gleeful, helpful, *happy*.

For some reason I keep thinking of this rage comic about Oreos when I try to picture what it was like for him.

He came away from the experience with a bunch of negative health side effects, including permanent sensory issues. His tinted goggles protect his eyesight, and he wears a pair of modified hearing aids to treat the constant ringing in his ears. He also has a hard time keeping his attention on a sole task now.

He's got a LOT of guilt over what happened, but he deals with that by whole-heartedly embracing his role as a "bad guy". The super villain career also had legal advantages... By accepting a mad scientist job offer from the League of Villainous Entities in Ultropolis, he was able to dodge jail time. Their intervention in the court proceedings also covered up his criminal history. This resolution wasn't totally negative for Theremin Labs either... They get a cut of his income, and their identities are protected from the public. Some of them (especially Neil) still think Dread should've gone to jail, though.

Speaking of! Here's a quick run-down of what that night was like for the others...

Neil was targeted first - not on purpose, Dread was running and gunning for whoever he saw first. One moment Neil was minding his own business, working diligently on his AI project, and then WHAM! Suddenly he couldn't move. He never found out exactly how Dread knocked his consciousness into the computer console, and he didn't get a chance to ask. Dread was getting a little tired of all the yelling and questions, so he turned Neil's volume off and left him there while he went to 'help' the others. Neil had to sit there and stare at his own unconscious body until the others found him... About 10 hours later.

Harold got attacked next, and was dumped into a big ol' aquarium full of some kind of fishy, mutagenic concoction. Dread tossed him in head-over-heels, so unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately?) Harold's mutations only reach as far as his thighs. His legs were sticking out of the tank! The shock of the transformation knocked him out for a while.

Vic overheard the commotion and came to check what was going on. Before she could really see what happened, Dread hurried to her office and started messing with her heavy machinery. He shoved her right into the path of an industrial array of magnets and flipped the switch.

(Honestly, the changes that happened to her are the weirdest to make sense of. Something about magnetism, gravity, and quantum physics? Dread had no idea what he was fiddling with, and in the aftermath Vic isn't sure how he managed it, either.)

Vic had no idea how to control her own powers and was stuck helplessly in midair, pelted by random objects around the office and being alternately repelled/pulled toward the walls and ceiling. It took her awhile to find the others, and with it came the unfortunate discovery that her magnetic field is bad for Neil's health.

Parie was next, and another straightforward attack... Just one quick injection! Their entire body became transparent except for their nervous system and eyelids. The rest of their body is still physically THERE, it's just invisible! Their nervous system lights up on contact like fiber optics, and they were given the power to heighten and dampen the nervous senses of others. Which is great! But the change was still HORRIFYING. They were able to recover more quickly than the others and run for help.

Rosie was always a little psychic, a little extra sensitive and open-hearted. That openness is what led to her interest in child development, learning devices, and toys. She had been working on a helmet that would help make the feelings of the wearer a little clearer for whoever they were trying to communicate with. Dread tweaked it- he thought he was helping- and reversed the idea, so that the wearer would have an easier time reading the thoughts of others.

Rosie had no idea what had been happening to her coworkers that night. He gave her the "fixed" helmet for a test run, and she was BOMBARDED with the thoughts of restless child spirits. It turns out the Theremin building used to be a creepy old orphanage! Seeing the horror, confusion and pain on Rosie's face was the sharp slap in the face that Dread needed to start waking up out of his altered state... But instead of helping to undo what he'd done to everyone, he panicked and ran. He tried to steal one of the cars in the parking lot and crashed it into a nearby tree. He wouldn't start remembering the full extent of what he'd done until he woke up in jail the next day.

The entire crew (minus Dread, obviously) became a really close family unit in the aftermath of becoming living lab experiments. They all lived together in the shuttered laboratory, trying to function as normal despite all the weird changes they were dealing with. It's a very 'Willy Wonka' situation. Nobody ever goes in, and nobody ever comes out, but they kept working. Their shared traumas, frequent teamwork, and shared living spaces made them all grow closer together.

Rosie stopped living in the labs pretty quickly when she realized she was the target of EXTREME ghost experiences and was making the building super haunted. Now she lives in the nearby city and works in a creepy antique shop (where the ghosts are a feature, not a bug!) She helps bring food and supplies to the labs, and acts as an occasional middleman for the crew's scientific work. She stops by at least once a week, maybe more.

Lexin was an unexpected addition as Neil's formerly empty body slowly developed a sentience of its own. Neil did NOT take it well at first. But now they all see him as a younger brother / child member of their very weird family.

I've got a lot more info about each of them, but I think this is a good sum-up of the basics! And that name resemblance is no coincidence, all of them have references hidden in their names. ;)

Thank you for asking these questions! I love these characters a lot and I'm glad that people are liking them so far! As a reward for making it this far, here’s a drawing of the gang when they were still relatively normal.

#Dreadful #Dr. Dreadful #Theremin Labs #Dr. Neil Kirby #Dr. Harold Manuxet #Dr. Parie Wernicke #Dr. Vic Oersted #Dr. Rosemary Lorraine #Lexin Kirby #mocksalute #THANKS AGAIN AAA

21 notes · View notes

warmau · 6 years

Note

hiii! i really love ur sci-fi/apocalyptic aus and would LOVE to see some of that for nct dream!!!

people really wanted more sci-fi so here it is!!! find yuta, johnny, sicheng & haechan (here) find taeyong, taeil, mark, doyoung, ten, & jaehyun (here)

Jeno

extremely clumsy time-traveler

the ability to travel through time and sort of skip back and forth between it is distinctive to jeno’s family

so when he inherited it ,,,, everyone in the family expected he’d just you know ,,,,,, be GOOD at it

turns out - he’s not

as good at everything else as jeno can be,,,,,,the one skill he’s born with - is the one skill he can’t exactly harness

do you know how many time he’s accidentally time warped in the middle of doing his homework?

he ends up in 17th century france and is like bonjour,,,,uh,,,,,,anyone here know how to do algebra

or that one time he jumped into the future and almost got hit by some dude on a hoverboard

life is hard when your one weird hiccup can send you propelling through the space-time continuum

and whats worse is ,,,,,,,, he’s sworn to secrecy

which is not great because “oh jeno, what’d you do this weekend - why didn’t you come play video games at jisungs?” oh well i just was hanging out with dinosaurs or whatever

like you can’t say that

and jeno is bad at lying because he gets all smiley and cant stop it and mark is always like bro are you good

jeno smiling so wide it hurts: fine! i uh,,,,,,,,just had homework to do!

and one time,,,,jeno trips over the top stair in his house and it sends him to the future

except he’s still,,,,,,,in his neighborhood,,,,,but everything is just,,,more technological

like the stop signs are holograms and the cars are just tinier versions of themselves all hovering above the ground

and then

and then there’s you

with your hoverboard under your arm - your hair a wacky bright color - and your talking to a tiny little person whose inside the watch on your hand

and jeno is like ,,,,,,, just gaping in the middle of the street

and unfortunately you walk right into each other

and you’re like HEY didnt the motion detector we all have in our brains tell you to move LEFT

and jeno is like the what in my brain

and you look him up and down and you’re like wait

where’s your receptor button? why arent you wearing the geo-transmitter? where’s your hoverboard or inline skates?

and jeno is like i ,,,,,, i uh,,,,,,left them at home

and you’re like what you can’t leave them at home - tap your watch and they’ll appear in your hands like any normal persons stuff does

jeno just shrugs and is like oops left that watch at home too

and you’re like how it’s like,,,,,locked onto your hand when you’re five

jeno in his head: the future is freaky

jeno out loud: it,,,,,broke?

you stare at him for a while,,,,,,,,,,for one he’s got dark hair. no one has had that color of hair in a while

he’s wearing an outfit that scream 2018 which was like fifty years ago

and

“ARE YOU FROM THE PAST?!?!?!”

jeno jumps, pulling you closer and shaking his head frantically as onlookers turn for a second but then focus back on their watches

“no what are you talking about how could i be from the past i -”

“siri 107 - locate this dudes profile.”

“siri 107?”

suddenly there’s a loud beep and from your watch a ray of blue light scans over jeno’s body

after a tinkering second there is a beep again

“unidentified. no profile. perhaps he’s a senior citizen?”

jeno’s eyebrows furrow “i am NOT a senior citizen”

you grin, “then you have to be from the past. everyone under the age of thirty has a profile. when your born doctors upload your info into the database.”

you come closer and closer till your centimeters away from jeno’s face

he tries to pull back but something stops him

past the wild hair and clothing he doesnt understand,,,,he has to admit your face is damn near perfect

maybe - he thinks - it’s that the future has perfected genetics or something

but then again everyone around you two still looks different,,,,,,you just,,,,,,you look so angelic

and his frozen stare makes you tilt your head to the side

“why are you staring at me?”

jeno gapes, blushing down to his collar and looking away

“n-nothing i just,,,,ive never i,,,,,,uh -”

your giggle cuts jeno’s sentence off

your watch does some kind of noise and jeno asks what it means

“it’s reading your mood - it says you think im cute.”

jeno opens his mouth to protest, but again he’s a bad liar so all he gets out is a “wh-what?”

“it’s fine, i think you’re cute too!”

you reach up to touch his hair

“this retro style is actually my type -”

you peer down into his eyes again

“and if you are from the past that makes you interesting. i like that.”

jeno feels his heart beat a little faster in his chest

and just as your about to let your hand drop, and jeno reaches out to catch it

thinking he might as well just admit it, if you think it’s cool that he’s from the past then maybe you wouldnt mind talking to him more

and its not like he has anything better to do

what, go back to his time and do homework and miss out on a cute date with you - a cute person from the future?

but just as he opens his mouth, your eyes wide with anticipation

everything begins to warp

and jeno groans because

goddamnit, he time traveled back! right at the most important part!

standing at the top of the stairs of his house, jeno touches the spot on his cheek

your warmth is still present as if you’d been there with him only seconds ago

“great, now this stupid family gift is even interfering with my love life.” jeno grumbles

but maybe,,,,just mabye,,,,,the next time he sneezes he’ll find himself back in 2068

on that date

with you

Renjun & Jisung

mecha pilots!

they were both scouted by military personnel while attending school

renjun, who’d been an avid member of engineering club and robotics, had been chosen for his ability to work and operate machinery way beyond his experience

jisung, who was part of track and archery, was chosen for his agility and aim

renjun’s mecha is large and looks more like a lifesize gundam figure, painted a rich forest green and nicknamed ‘giant’

he has tweaked it to be able to turn both of its arms into high powered canons and even installed a system in the cockpit that would let him infiltrate other mechas and haywire their internal systems

he takes ALOT of pride in keeping his mecha perfect and any bumps or dents or broken parts he fixes

even before going to get himself checked out by the doctors

his body suit is green to match his mecha and he wears a pair of goggles that have built in alerts from the mecha database

jisung calls renjun ‘the nerd pilot’ because renjun really only ever reads instruction manuals on tech and doesnt enjoy doing tricks during practice or during fights

jisung on the other hand,,,,,,,,,,

his mecha is smaller than renjuns - but it transforms into a jet whenever high speed chasing is involved

it’s a bright, flashy silver and has stickers and spray paint all over it

jisung calls it ‘lightening’ while renjun calls it ‘scrap metal’

since jisung is slightly more of a ,,,,,,,wild card in battle

his mecha is built to chase and surprise enemies, it doesnt have as many setups as renjuns but it is faster and more agile

so whenever he can jisung does tricks like spinning it upside down or flying circles around renjun to piss him off

his suit is the same silver, but with stripes of gold down his arms and legs and he wears a motorcycle style helmet with the same silver gleam

he usually comes out of a battle with some kind of busted lip or broken arm

and his mecha in pieces

but he still manages to jump around and party and dance and high five the squad leader like they’re old buddies

he’s the energy of the team - but he also kind of annoys everyone (in the best way possible, even though renjun disagrees)

you’re a part of renjun and jisung’s unit, you became a mecha pilot to follow in the footsteps of your parents who are now both retired from the field

you somehow get along with both of them, keeping up with jisung’s unhinged energy while also being interested in renjun’s intelligence

the three of you are an unlikely trio and no one outside of the squad gets it

but in battle - you guys are perfect

renjun always has the best plan and firepower, jisung can hunt an enemy down to the ends of the earth and you - have the knowledge of a true mecha pilot

no situation goes without jisung and renjun getting your approval in their own different ways

there’s been a string of attacks by an intergalactic bandit in your city, he keeps sending meteors full of poison down onto the city

the mecha unit has been put in charge of stopping the meteors from hitting the city below

and so you, jisung and renjun are out on patrol of the skies when you spot one

you send out a location signal to the other two guys and soon enough all three of you are on the meteor, getting ready to catch it

but at the last moment the meteor glitches, and suddenly you realize that the bandit disguised his ship as a meteor and is planning to land in the city

right away jisung starts firing, swirling around in the air trying to hit the ship

renjun is yelling over the coms that he needs to stop - he could hit the ship and send it crashing down onto the building below

but before jisung can decide to listen to renjun, that’s just what happens

and in the moment - you’re the one rushing down after the ship in your mecha

using the arms of your machine to catch the ship and land it safely into the middle of a grassy park nearby sending all of the civilians scattering in shock

the only problem is, the bandit hops out of the ship - pointing a alien looking weapon at you and through the shield of your mecha

he shoots

if you wake up and see renjun - you sit up fast

only to realize your head is throbbing and you fall back against the bed

renjun is pacing back and forth in your ER room, muttering to himself

and you try to let out a small sigh

rushing to your side you only smile at renjun, but he shakes his head

“your stitches” he motions to the side of your face and you blink

“di-did the bandit get me?”

“he got a shot at your face, but thankfully it wasnt a gun - so it was a bullet but some kind of outerspace weapon. it cut into your skin, but im running tests on it right now and ill figure out what is it and i will get him. i will make him pay for this.”

renjun’s usually calm, studios attitude turns serious

the soft browns of his eyes turn almost pitch black with anger when he thinks about it

and you have to put your hand over his to make him return to normal

“but im ok, right?”

“you could have died ,,,,, you could have caught his ship and he could have broken into your mecha and killed yo-”

“but im alive!”

you try to make it sound happy, but there’s pain in your voice

renjun quiets down, watching you

“is my mecha ok?”

“don’t worry, you know i can fix that.”

you let out small laugh, “yes, mechas are your specialty.”

renjun watches you - he’s never really known what to do when he feels like this

every battle - he worries about everyone, but you ,,,,,, with you it’s another level of anxiety

before he can think to stop himself he leans down to kiss your forehead gently

“please be careful”

he whispers and your heart stops

but having renjun close like this feels right and you let your eyes fluttr close

“renjun,,,,,,”

“yes?”

he pulls away but you keep your eyes close out of embarrassment at your next statement

“can you kiss me,,,,,,,”

you gently tap your lips

“here?”

renjun feels his skin boil under his suit,,,,,, “w-why”

“you can fix a mecha with tools but fixing a persons heart usually means a kiss,,,,,,or two”

renjun swallows, leaning down again and pressing a chaste - nervous kiss on your lips

maybe, he thinks, that feeling of worry about you isn’t just worry maybe it’s what people talk about when they mean love

if you wake up and see jisung - you wince at the pain in your head

but sit up anyway, throwing the hospital blanket to the side and trying to throw your feet over the side of the gurney

“hey hey hey - where do you think you’re going ????”

jisung jumps from his seat beside your bed and takes a hold of your legs - pushing them back

and urging you to lay down again

you scowl at him

“jisung, that bandit is still out there.”

you can tell from jisung’s multiple bandaids and dirty suit that even after you’d passed out that the unit when on to fight

but jisung huffs

“yeah, he is. but unit 4 is on it. our unit’s priority is you now! making sure you don’t get hurt anymore!”

you narrow your eyes, but let out a sharp gasp

your fingers reach up to trail the stitches over your eyebrow and jisung tells you that the bandit cut you with some kind of alien weapon

“whatever, im not dead and unit 4 will need our backup-”

you try to sit up again but jisung takes a hold of your wrist

“listen, you know that i would love to get you out of this stupid hospital bed and back out into the battle. we could pull up in our mechas like cool ass superheros!”

the spark in jisung’s eyes makes you smile a bit

“but,,,” the spark dulls again

into a serious expression that you haven’t seen on jisung’s face since one of the mecha pilots had fallen in battle last spring

“but you are more important then that. you know me, i love impulsive crazy things. but there’s one thing i love more than that.”

you shift in the bed, suddenly hyper aware of how red jisung’s ears are becoming

the chair where he’d been sitting is his mecha helmet

a half disheveled blanket is thrown over the arm and you wonder how long jisung has been here

in this room

waiting for you

“what is it,,,,,,,the one thing you love more?”

your voice trembles, but you think you might know the answer

jisung crosses his arms, trying to rack his brain with some kind of little lie

but he flings his arms up

“it’s you! YOU! There I said it, are you happy!”

you manage to let out a good laugh this time, despite the pain in your head

“hey don’t laugh at me confessing my -”

“come down here so i can kiss you”

jisung jumps a bit, startled at your words

but with one look to see if the doctor is coming, he obliges and you put your hands up into his hair

kissing him gently and softly and for the first time

energetic, wild jisung is timid and shy

you can’t believe it,,,,,,it’s so cute

(but when you tell jisung that - he insists that there isn’t anything cute about him - a suave, cool mecha pilot)

(but maybe he’ll let you - only you - call him cute. as long as you don’t tell renjun)

renjun who witnessed the kiss from behind the hospital curtain: ill never let him live this down

Jaemin

the “winged” boy

born after a unique mutation in his genes while he was in the womb, jaemin’s white feathers sprout from his back in full glory when he turns only ten

now, as he is much older, he is hailed by scientists and people all over the world as a ‘real life angel’

but more than anything

jaemin’s wings are a bother

they are too large for him to be able to get through doors without a problem - revolving doors are out of the questions

all of his clothing has to be torn for wings to fit through

in the summer - all the feathers make everything ten times hotter

he cant enjoy anything like a normal person. not without everyone gwaking in awe

the weekly tests conducted by doctors and scientists from around the world are not fun, at all

and worst of all

if anything,,,,,,,,,,,,,anything at all,,,,,,,,get stuck in his wings

he can’t pick it out - his arms won’t reach

but,,,,all of these struggles are kept under lock and key by jemin

who is always smiling and being kind

and acting just like the ‘angel’ he is nicknamed

because he doesnt want others to be let down, to know how much of a hassle being different really means

and although he can fly, he much prefers to walk - its the only thing human about him that he can control

but ,,, ,as much as everyone is marveled

and thinks he looks like he’s just come to life from a biblical painting

there are people who deem him

a “freak”

at least that’s what the neighborhood bullies call him when they smear paint and gum in his wings in the back alley of some street

horrified and unable to even spread his wings out because of the stickniess

jaemin tries desperately to claw out any gum or paint for his feathers

but it’s hopeless

he must look so pathetic alone here like this,,,,,,,

“are you ok?”

jaemin closes in on himself at the sound of someones concerned voice

you can see a shadow, but it doesnt quite look like a persons

you come closer and closer

and jaemin tries to curl in on himself

but it’s too late

your gasp lets him know that you’ve seen him

how ugly he looks, his wings all a mess and his body shaking with fear

but instead of calling him another insult, instead of running away

you bend down and begin to pick out the wads of gum

“who would do this? they’re so cruel,,,,”

jaemin’s shoulders relax slightly as he comes to figure out that you have no intention of hurting him

he turns a little, his face which had been hidden behind his wings is revealed

and you smile at him

the expression makes something warm fill up inside jaemin’s chest and he tells you meekly that you don’t have to help

“what do you mean? your wings are big, you couldnt possibly clean them yourself. ill get all of this gunk out - don’t worry!”

jaemin’s heart skips a bit as you reach over beside his cheek - reaching to the feathers behind to pluck some gum from there

jaemin thanks you quietly as you work, humming the tune of a song you like

so careful and sweet it nearly lulls jaemin into a comfortable sleep

“the paint won’t come out,,,,ill need some water,,,”

jaemin’s eyes meet yours, wide and worried

you stand back and think, before snapping your fingers

jaemin feels awkward, standing in the shower of your apartment

but you’re also there

“sorry,,,but youll have to keep some of your clothes on ,,,,” you flush pink and so does jaemin

but it’s the only way you’ll be able to get all of the stuff out of his wings

jaemin nods, but then pulls at his shirt - giving you just enough time to look away

and when you turn back

he’s curled up with his knees to his chin, his exposed back and wings looking cramped in your tiny bath

you turn on the water, cupping it and gently lathering it into the wings where theyve been stained with purples and greens

it is tedious and take a lot of time, but somehow you manage to get jaemin’s wings looking pristine again

and you offer him some sweats as he gets out of the tub, his jeans faded dark from the water

it’s awkward, but after having you do something like that for him - jaemin just doesnt know how to thank you

you dont even know him all that well, but you sacrificed all this time and effort

“don’t thank me, it’s only natural to help someone in need.”

you say - as if reading jaemin’s confused mind

you set down some tea in front of him but jaemin suddenly does something that nearly makes you knock it over

he pulls a feather out of his wings - with a tiny wince

but then he hands it to you

you stare at it, flabbergasted

until you get up, find some string and knot the feather throughit

placing it over your head you grin as you show the makeshift necklace to jaemin

who turns a scarlet color and closes his wings around him in a large, swooping motion

you giggle and ask him to open them up

and when he does, peeking through them you lean in to kiss his cheek

and jaemin nearly faints - his first kiss - of any kind

and it feels so warm and nice that he can’t help but open his wings open a little more and in a whisper ask,

“again?”

Chenle

talks to ghosts

let me correct myself, ghosts talk to him and chenle is like

“please stop nagging me you were born in the tang dynasty what do you know about millennial fashion”

the ghosts that stay around him and in his house tend to be ancestors

but when he goes anywhere,,,,he can see the spirits that are attatched to others

and since those people cant communicate with their loved ones

they tell all their problems to chenle

who looks a little weird having a conversation with thin air

when in reality he’s telling another sad ghost aunt that their niece is fine - she’s standing right there minding her own business no he’s not going to go over there and tell her that auntie misses her little honey and NO hes not going to ask if her cat ‘muffins’ is still alive

muffins spirit who is meowing in chenles left ear: meow

the only time chenle gets a break from all these ghosts is when he’s sleeping

or when he’s really focused on something

so sometimes he’ll practice martial arts for hours, worrying his friends and family

but it’s just because it helps keep the ghosts away

and no one else can understand because who would believe him???

even hanging out with mark or haechan is work

because they have ghosts around them - everyone does

so its like trying to talk to his friends AND their dead family members

“no one understands me,,,,,”

chenle murmurs one day as he’s walking to school - being followed for like three blocks by a wandering spirit of an old women who isnt sure where her husband is

“isn’t this where our farm was?”

she asks and chenle groans, looking over to the rows of apartment buildings

“not anymore i guess.”

he says aloud and catches some glances from passerbys

he keeps walking but the women is insistent on chatting and chenle is not having it

not with that chem quiz coming up and the fact that he’s already late

turning around on his heel, he glares at the ghost

“listen, three hundred and fifty years has passed! you are dead - your husband is too and i don’t know where -”

“don’t talk to her like that!”

surprised, chenle turns and sees you standing there

you have the same uniform as him, but he’s sure he’s never seen you in school before

you march over to stand beside him, looking over at the women who floats above you two

“ma’am, this boy doesnt know where your husband is. but im sure he is resting somewhere. you should go there too, let go of worry. you will find him there.”

your voice is calm, nurturing

the ghost stares back at you before breaking into tears and slowly, slowly disappearing

chenle blinks, turning to you

“wait - you - you - could see her?!?!?!”

you huff, “did you think you were the only person who could see ghosts in the whole world? believe me, you’re not that special.”

you turn to head back on your way

but chenle catches up

“are you a transfer?”

“yep!”

a spirit that peeks out from inside your backpack sticks its tongue out at chenle and he blinks again

“whose that?!?”

“he’s a kid i knew back home, passed from an illness and has been with me since then. he’s kind of -”

the ghost glares back at chenle

“don’t bother them!”

it chimes and hides back into your bag

“he’s kind of protective.”

you finish and chenle lets out a kind of “huh” noise

you two keep walking and chenle asks how you deal with the ghosts, all they do is nag him

you agree - they are naggy but it’s all about convincing them that they need to pass and not linger

“animal ghosts are the worst though, they don’t know about passing,,,,,and then they just-”

“meow nonstop in your ear? believe me i know.”

chenle motions to his leg, where a fluffy apparition is weaving between his legs

you laugh

and chenle suddenly forgets about your weird introduction and instead sees how cute the sound of your giggle is

but snapping back into it you two reach school

and chenle goes, “what class are you in?”

“ummm 5-A.”

“cool, youre with me!”

chenle smiles and suddenly - another spirit appears on his right

“wow so smooth, you wanna impress them and you go ‘cool youre with me!’ might as well just tell them you’re a big nerd-”

chenle groans

“this is the school ghost, he’s an ass.”

the ghost grins at you and tilts his head

“hey chenle, they can see me can’t they?”

“i can!”

you grin back

“huh, well let it be known here that chenle is a big nerd and probably already loves you-”

chenle nearly shouts from the ghost to shuttup, but notices the looks of students and keeps it back

you just laugh, “well us ghoul translators or whatever have to stick together don’t we?”

you reach out, offering your hand to chenle

who takes it, red blush and all

the school ghost makes a gagging noise and the ghost from your bag pops up again to chastise chenle for touching you

but for the first time their voices fade

and all chenle sees is your smile

and he can see that you’re thinking the same thing

im so happy there’s someone else like me ,,,,,,,

1K notes · View notes

fantroll-purgatory · 6 years

Text

Chromia

@time-is-still-a-waste

First: Beforus!

Name: Chromia Kybayze. Chromia, comes from the word chrome, that sometimes is associated with time (Her main theme), and is also a type of metal. Kybayze, is a more fancy way of her original name (being Kyba).

Chromia has more than 6 letters, so we’ll have to find a way to chop that down. Khroma, maybe? Kybayze has the same problem on top of not having a meaning. What if we used Kyanol instead? Kyanol is an alternate name for Aniline, one of the first things used in the creating of pigments, plastics, and dyes, and a common feature in oldtimey alchemy, the predecessor of Chemistry.

Khroma Kyanol also has alliteration AND both chrome and aniline are used in leather, so I think it’s good.

Age: 9 sweeps.

Strife Specibus: Pistolkind! She mostly wields flintlock pistols, to fit with her steampunky theme! She also occasionally wields various varieties of handcrafted potions. Her most commonly used one, is a potion of a chemical akin to greek fire. Incredibly hard to put out.

If you wanted to like, magically combine these two under one strife specibus, you could say like… Sulfurkind. Since Gunpowder uses sulfur and it’s speculated that there’s sulfur in Greek fire? It gives her a really flexible modus- if something’s sulfury, she can put it to use.

Fetch Modus: Stop-clock! To obtain her items, Chromia will have to stop the watch at a certain point, to obtain her items. Each item can be stored on a particular time (ie. She’d store a book at 3am). When she wants to obtain it, she starts the timer, and stops it when the seconds goes past that particular time.

Nice!

Blood color: She’s a Bronze Blood! However, she has also sometimes been seen as an Indigo.

Symbol and meaning: Due to her being a time player, and a derse,she’d be a Tauries!

Trolltag: ancientAnatomy

That’s interesting, but if you want to go with a steampunk theme it’s kind of off base… Maybe industrialAlchedemic? Industrial being a reference to the industrial steam-powered era that dominates the steampunk aesthetic, and Alchedemic being a combination of Alchemic and Academic.

Quirk: She doesn’t change any of her letters, however, she does add her signature goggles to her emoticons, in the form of a B. ie B:) and also has a tendency to refer to people by colours, that she associates them with.

I like that! Simple quirks are good n refreshing.

Special Abilities (if any): She has no particular abilities, except the ones granted to her by her God Tier.

Brownbloods are said to have a sorta natural connection with animals, but we’ll say hers is very, very, very weak. Animals just like… like her slightly more than average.

Lusus: Chromia’s lusus, is quite an interesting one. She has a large bookworm. They both get on quite well, and Chromia has been known to curl up with her worm.. mother.. thing. She has, however, dressed her Lusus up a bit with a few of her own items. Who ever saw a giant bookworm in a bowtie?

Personality: Chromia, is for lack of a better term, eccentric. She has a slight case of hoarding, and collects any and every interesting thing she comes across. Often coming off as quite cold and rude, to most she is often avoided. However, this is quite far from the truth, as she is just quite bad at socializing. She often tries to get people to be her “test subjects” just so she can have somebody to talk to. When people get to know her, she has quite a sarcastic personality, but is more than willing to put herself in harms way to save someone. When it comes to people she dislikes, she hides it well, until they are vulnerable, and then she strikes.

She has a slightly.. mad professor aesthetic going on, and has been known to mildly intimidate people by cackling at random times. This does, unfortunately get her in quite a fair bit of trouble, as cackling during serious conversations is not good for anyones health. Chromia enjoys being referred to as “Professor”, despite not really being a teacher. Or a professor of anything.

Lastly, Chromia has a very particular flaw. She has a deep fear of failing. She has a tendency to absorb herself into her work, and strive for the very best, despite knowing she’ll never get there. She’ll never let people know of this, of course, and covers her own self doubt by making herself sound smarter, using fancy terms to seem more important.

I love this… Though with the steampunk aesthetic, there’s definitely some stuff you could lean into to beef up some of these things. Like her being really fascinating by the past instead of looking around herself and at the people in her life. Fixating on her interests and her aesthetic and her performative self instead of being open and engaging with others- as you said with her being bad at communicating and trying to make excuses to talk.

Also being fascinated by OLD questions- since she’s steampunk, I feel like alchemy is something she needs on top of Chemistry. Fixative on those age old questions, how do we cure disease? How do we extend a lifetime? Part of the Time condition is that these characters either need to learn to fight or are Always Fighting. Always struggling against Something. For her, she’s fighting against failure, aaand in some ways probably against time. The ultimate failure would be to die before you publish your works, before you get over that hurdle, before you even have a Chance to make it, so trying to tackle those old alchemic questions becomes really fascinating for a character who fears Not Succeeding.

Interests: She has a deep love, and almost obsession with science. Specifically, Chemistry. She also loves reading and writing her own stories. She has been known to make her own characters, and often gets overly attached to them.

I Love That. If she’s steampunk you ought to make her like steam-based tech a lot too. I know that’s under science technically speaking, but it’s of Particular Note. OH man could I recommend her hive being a thermal airship?

Since Brownbloods are known for their love of creature comforts, maybe you could have her be sneakily into fashion, too? It’s not Scientific and Professional, so she doesn’t like to explicitly acknowledge it, but we can get it out there in her Look.

Maybe she could also like a few more niche things. Like Rube Goldberg Machines. And fiction about automatons (If only because when I hear steampunk the first thing I think is Steam Powered Giraffes).

Title: She’s a Witch of Time!

The active changer of Time… I think that suits so well all of what I talked about above. She’s someone who wants to actively change things, wants to change the timeline, change the state. She’ll change the course of history if she can! Her inverse would be Seer of Space and Space is Heavily associated with science, so her having a good ol’ understanding of the scientific nature of the universe will help her in changing the flow of time.

Land: I can’t think of one!

Land of Cogs and Rewind

A giant web of interconnected cities floats above the molten planet, harnessing the heat below to keep the clockwork buildings suspended in the sky. But the machinery’s been ticking for too long and it’s starting to creak. Something goes wrong. The head below gets hotter and suddenly all the pipes burst. The city falls out of the sky, towards the lava, and before everyone can fall in… everything resets. Khroma is back where she started. This happens every 24 hours. The planet is stuck in a loop of destruction and Khroma has to figure out how to save the planet, save the consorts, and set everything on a better timeline’s path.

Dream Planet: She’s a Derse dreamer! Due to her constant urge to change the world around her, Derse just seems to fit her the best. She’s never pleased with what she has, and always strives to make all of her tests just a step better. To prove herself.

Appearance: Chromia, is a very tall for her blood caste. She has adapted an almost steampunky style over the years, often wearing a long bronze tailcoat, kneehigh cog covered boots and a pair of copper tinted goggles. She has quite long black hair, that’s quite messy due to her not brushing it much. Chromia also has a tendency to wear bronze lipstick, when around other people. She wears her blood colour with pride.

Design!:

Goggles: I edited them from BurningQuantumCola’s base! I put some silver detailing and a cog design on as well.

Horns&Hair: I used horns in the shape of the symbol and tried to make her hair nice and wild like you wanted.

Face: I edited her eyes from Kanaya’s, but made them narrower and more smirky as well as giving her curled up eyelashes. I gave her brown mascara, of course, for that bronze pride. Her lips are also brown and she is smirky and toothy.

Outfit: Okay, so there’s not quite an overcoat, but I gave her a white shirt with her symbol on it and a nice overalls skirt in bronze with lots of silver buttons. I thought it carried nice steampunk vibes and also made her look a bit like a fun high school science teacher.

Boots: I edited them from Horrus’ shoes! Black boots with some leather detail, silver gears and some buckle guards!

She’s a whole lot of fun. Thank you for sharing!

-CD

#time-is-still-a-waste #chromia kybayze #khroma kyanol #chromia #kybayze #khroma #kyanol #bronzeblood #brownblood #review #redesign #cd review #submission

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authorloremipsum · 7 years

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The Pyrologist’s Clockwork Heart

a “The Glass Scientists” fanfiction

Words - 2073

Characters - Mr. Sinnett, Dr. Jekyll, the Lodgers (in general)

Summary - What the hell is one pyrologist to do when he’s surrounded by a Society of people who don’t realize how bloody beautiful they are?

Anthony Sinnett had a problem.

Every, single person at the Society of Arcane Sciences was attractive. Even the Lodgers who were ten, twenty years his senior, they all had a respectable and dignified sort of beauty to them. The closer they were to Sinnett’s age, the more of a problem it was though, because there was the opportunity for chemistry with them.

And that chemistry had a different meaning for each of them.

For example, Luckett was charming, eloquent, surprisingly elegant and dignified for a man on fire half of the time. Sinnett looked forward to the opportunities he had to work with Luckett, he could listen to the talk of homeopathy all day frankly. It was solely intellectual, Sinnett felt he was an equal with Luckett, and their time together was rewarding in terms of work. They got things finished, they built things, set things on fire, it was fun and bloody brilliant.

On another hand, Ito was incredibly attractive. As shallow as it sounded though, that’s as far as it extended; Sinnett marveled at their aesthetic, their makeup and hair. Often he wanted to ask them about it, maybe get some tips, but how didn’t know how to bring it up without sounding romantic or uncouth. His attitude towards Ito was not romantic in the slightest, he considered them a good friend, and perhaps wanted to be closer friends.

There were others that had drawn his interest, Mosley whose hidden face and mysterious nature drew the imagination in curious directions, Rachel whose kindness and fierce attitude suggested she would be an interesting friend, Lavender, who seemed always willing to talk, they were all so kind and Sinnett was so thankful they were his friends.

Now, Flowers or Archer were a different story, those feelings were definitely inclined to the romantic. Well, romance was certainly the polite way of putting it, as opposed to thoughts better left to after three pints of beer or whiskey. Both of them were just, so beautiful.

Flowers was a soft sort of pretty, the way she held herself with such grace and gentleness, her timid tone of voice and delicate touch that could work clockwork like nothing else. He adored the twinkle that’d appear in her eyes when he knocked on her lab door, saying one of his metal fingers had gotten a bit loose, the way her lips would pout while she focused on the intricate cogs and gears in his hand. Her hair, though she clearly tried to tame the wild curls, reminded Sinnett of clouds and smoke, oh she was so lovely.

Then Archer, handsome Archer, he was a sharp sort of beautiful. His strong chin and bright eyes to match with that cunning, knowing smirk of his was nearly intimidating, Sinnett found it alluring. The way his hair stuck up behind his goggles like a macaw’s, the way he always tried to make Sinnett laugh when they were tuning up his arm, the odd look he’d get on his face when things were serious, all of it contributed to Sinnett’s fancy.

Both of them were so kind to him, and so beautiful, Sinnett found himself thinking about them in the most embarrassing fashions that made his face turn bright red. God, if he ever told anyone, the rumors would be horrifically embarrassing.

Sinnett was a mess, to make a long story short. By the end of his first few months as a member of the Society, a compliment from anyone, particularly his favorites, would turn him into a blushing mess behind closed doors. More than once Luckett had found him hiding in their lab, face beet red but covered in ash and soot. The excuses were varying, but Luckett was lackadaisical enough that he didn’t press.

The problem with all these emotions that made dear Sinnett’s heart race was that he didn’t know what to do with them. Most of his fancies and infatuations had crushes of their own and that was just fine, the others faded away to incredibly platonic friendships.

Well, except for one.

He’d spent all morning avoiding the rest of the Society simply because he had a project to work on, soldering new sheets of metal onto the tanks of his flamethrower instead of dealing with any of his bottled affections. Though, to be fair, some of said affections were more humiliating than romantic.

Didn’t matter at this point, he’d wasted the day on work to ignore the particularly fierce tugs at his heartstrings and now the voice from his stomach was far fiercer. It took Luckett tapping him on the shoulder to get him to finally pull himself away from work and go get food.

Because, you know, drowning yourself in work tends to lead to one forgetting to eat.

It was, eerily quiet tonight, which was shocking because something or other could usually be heard going on at any one time, be it the sounds of machinery moving behind the walls or a hum from one of the small exhibits in the lobby, there was none of that tonight. Sinnett made note of this as he wandered the uncharacteristically empty halls, looking around curiously for any sign of his friends. But there was nothing, so he walked a little quicker to the kitchen, hoping beyond hope to find Rachel there and ask what the hell was going on.

Darkness had crept into the Society, the lights remained unlit in their sconces along the walls, casting everything into shadow. Sinnett, who found comfort in light and warmth, found anxiety creeping into his psyche as he travelled the dark hallways, rubbing the sleeve of his metal arm just above where flesh changed to machine, an old tic from when that place had been covered with bandages. He picked up his pace then, practically running down the kitchen where the lights were on and a blessed, golden glow filled the space.

He slammed the door shut behind him with more ferocity than intended, backing up and leaning on the counter as the unknown fear began to ebb from his mind finally. The racing of his heart slowed again to a steady, calming beat and he rubbed his eyes. What had he been so afraid of?

A hand placed itself on his shoulder and Sinnett shrieked, whirling around with both hands raised defensively.

To his surprise, Doctor Jekyll did the same, backing up and exclaiming: “I meant no harm! I just wanted to ask if you were alright.” Sinnett swallowed hard, slowly relaxing, for some reason not at all confused that Jekyll was downstairs in the kitchen, “Yeah I, I’m fine. Just, where is everyone? I, my imagination was getting ahead of me, I thought something was wrong.”

“There’s nothing wrong,” the doctor said, smiling and relaxing as well. “In fact, I was coming to find you.”

Sinnett felt his face heat up a little bit, “Really? You were looking for me?”

Jekyll nodded, wearing that oh-so charming smile of his, “I wanted to talk to you about something personal to me.” He was wearing only a vest and shirtsleeves, the collar loose and sleeves rolled clumsily up to the elbows. Just the top of his collarbone could be seen, but understand that in the Victorian-ish Era, just a wee bit of collarbone was more than a little scandalous.

“Something hasn’t gone wrong right? And I should think you’d go to Doctor Lanyon with something like that,” Sinnett said, praying hope beyond hope his face wasn’t turning scarlet.

Jekyll stepped up to him, putting a hand on his shoulder, saying something or other about this being about Sinnett, but the pyrologist was focusing on not letting himself overheat. His eyes wandered over Jekyll’s face, lingered on his mouth, parted in that charming smile that could change tides. God did this man realize how bloody attractive he was?

And suddenly he was leaning closer, too close for a friendly conversation, and Sinnett’s heart threatened to beat out of his chest. His eyes shut as Jekyll leaned even closer, their lips barely an inch apart and-

“Oi Sinnett! Sleeping on the job again?” called a voice.

Sinnett sat bolt upright at his desk, goggles falling eskew onto his face, heart still racing from the vivid near encounter within the realm of dreams. Of course, of course it had been a dream, how else would the Society of Arcane Sciences been so quiet? He rubbed at his eyes tiredly and looked towards the voice, spying Pennebrygg strolling into the lab, a box of various parts in his arms and a wide smile on his face. “Must’ve been one hell of a dream, you look as if someone you fancy just asked you for a drink.”

“I, could use a drink,” he countered, pulling his goggles down so they hung around his neck and running his hand through his hair. There was still that tint of embarrassment in his cheeks and he could feel his heart racing in his chest a mile a minute.

Yes, that was the crush that hadn’t faded in the slightest since its conception, and by far the one that was the least attainable. Jekyll was a man of status, a doctor, and a man for Heaven’s sake, and Sinnett was a glorified pyromaniac with a hand of clockwork. What did he have to offer Jekyll in the slightest? Hadn’t he caused enough trouble as it was?

It was only three days since he’d last set something on fire after all, new record…

“Ey Tony, you alright lad? You look, dizzy,” Pennebrygg said, setting his half emptied box of gadgets on the desk beside where Sinnett had taken his little nap. The pyrologist sighed, “I’m fine, just, think I need some air. And food, for that matter, haven’t eaten since two.”

“Well it’s almost ten now, you better go ‘fore Rachel puts the soup away.”

“She made soup? And you didn’t wake me?” he asked, sounding mockingly offended as he stood from the desk, gathering some papers in a pile and setting his pen neatly atop the stack. He chuckled and gave Pennebrygg a little wave as he turned to leave, “Don’t touch my stuff.”

“I never do Anthony!” was the response.

For the second time in as many hours, or so it felt, Sinnett wandered out of the lab into the halls of the Society, aiming for the kitchen.

He passed Griffin and Archer on the way downstairs, noting how happy they seemed to be while chatting with one another, arms folded on the banister, nearly touching but not quite. In the lobby, watching a small clockwork butterfly flutter in circles, were Lavender and Flowers, who seemed to be enjoying one another’s company greatly. Helsby’s booming laugh echoed from above and a look revealed him and Mosley laughing about something on a floor above, all smiles.

Sinnett’s heart, though it ached for something, felt a little lighter as he passed these happy friends of his. Lavender caught his arm as he passed them, asking if he was coming out with them tonight for drinks, and with a wide smile he agreed.

After he got something proper to eat of course.

With a smile, he strode towards the kitchen and nearly skipped past Doctor Jekyll’s office doors, but there he paused. He tilted an ear and heard laughter, Jekyll’s laughter and the familiar voice of Doctor Lanyon telling some story in an overly pretentious and dramatic tone. Sinnett chuckled too as he turned and continued towards the kitchen, hands in his pockets, heart singing a new song.

Yes he would pine, and yes it would ache, but one must pause to reflect on what they’d been gifted. He had friends aplenty, a home that care for him, and who knows? Maybe someone else had a crush on him and their heart ached like his. But most of all, his friends were all happy.

They knew they were loved, felt love and shared it with those that were the objects of their affections without fear, regardless of gender. The topic of gender alone usually made Sinnett ashamed of his fancies, but here, at the Society, it seemed okay. And it was okay to not be the one in the spotlight, to watch his crushes fall in love and be loved, it really was okay.

It was good to see them happy.

And it, actually, was enough for his ticking clockwork heart.

#my writing #the glass scientists

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chantalkrcmar · 5 years

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Hitting Close to Home

Well, the ills of the informal construction industry have hit close to home — as in, actually in our home. The irony, of course, is that the Human Security of informal construction workers is the focus of my dissertation work.

Under the sheer weight of age and making it through one too many monsoon seasons, one of the beds in our home broke soon after we moved in. It just caved in on itself. So my in-laws decided to get a new bed. And how did they do this? By going to IKEA (yes, there’s a new IKEA in Mumbai) or one of the local furniture shops? Nope. They did it the old-fashioned way: by getting a new one built from scratch. By word of mouth, they found a middleman/contractor, and through him, they got carpenters. The carpenters then built a custom-designed bed.

I did what any PhD researcher worth her weight in salt does: I started asking questions. And here’s the dirt…The apartment across the hall from us is getting a huge rehab project — a complete rewiring of the apartment, which basically means getting the whole apartment broken apart and rebuilt. This requires electricians, carpenters, and unskilled laborers. The middleman in charge of that project is someone who has been working on various projects in our apartment complex for years. So my father-in-law approached him (didn’t take much since he was just across the hall) and asked if we could share the carpenters with our neighbors. Apparently no one minded this arrangement because soon three different carpenters were taking turns building our new bed. I asked my father-in-law about wages, and he said that he pays the contractor who then pays the workers. I hope this contractor is an ethical man, though I have heard many stories now from activists and NGO workers that middlemen/contractors often are pretty slimy. Let’s just say, they don’t have the best interest of “their” laborers in mind. But since my father-in-law is not at all slimy, and seems to care genuinely about others’ well-being, I’ll hope for the best.

A few days ago, I noticed that two of the carpenters were working with an electric hand tool that was making shards of wood, and tons of dust, fly around the bedroom. They were wearing no eye protection, though I am almost certain they should have been. Also, the electric tools they use look old, battered and not-entirely-safe. For some reason, I was feeling too shy or too worried about challenging my in-laws or too hesitant for god-knows-what-reason to step in and ask about safety goggles. The carpenters also work barefoot all the time. (Barefoot is such an Indian thing, though, so I can’t chalk this up to unsafe labor practices necessarily, so much as just what you do here.) I know splinters are not a life-and-death matter, but still it can’t be comfortable getting thousands of splinters a day.

But then yesterday, I noticed one of the carpenters Mr. Gruh had a bandage around his hand. I could see it was fresh. I asked him what happened and he told me the drill and his hand had an encounter. I also asked him if he was ok. He gave me the Indian head nod, which is completely ambiguous. It could have meant, “Yes, it was just a little scratch.” or it could have meant, “No. I’m not at all ok. I might get gangrene.”

That little chat took me to the end of my Hindi skills and the end of my patience with the dubious safety conditions in our own home. So I enlisted Rahul’s help to continue the conversation. He asked Mr. Gruh if he needed medicine. Mr Gruh responded that he already put medicine on his hand, and made it clear he did not want to talk about it anymore. I was not entirely satisfied but I could not think of what else to do — short of dragging a grown man to the doctor, which he did not seem to want to do, or picketing my own in-laws’ (and now also our) home. Mr. Gruh is back at it again today with his bandaged hand. I looked for signs of worsening but could see none. I really hope this is not a serious wound.

But this case illustrates the many hazards of working in the informal construction sector. I know that if a worker got seriously injured working for them, my in-laws would pay for medical care. Most informal laborers are so poor that they could not get medical care for themselves. (It’s mostly a pay-out-of-pocket healthcare system in India, and the few government healthcare schemes they have for the indigent are horrible and barely implemented.) But again from what I can tell from my research, most employers are not interested in their employees’ health and well-being, and don’t provide or pay for medical care. Besides, there is so much grey area. When do you know that an injury is serious enough to warrant medical attention? What if you don’t even know about the injury? And what about paying for time that someone can’t work if s/he gets seriously injured? Since there are no rules in the informal economy, each situation is dealt with on a case by case basis. Where’s the justice or clarity in that?

And how complicit am I in this informal economy? Almost everything in the Indian economy is informal; it’s the very air we breathe here. In fact, 92% of Indians work informally — meaning no laws, no regulations, no social security of any kind, generally horribly low wages, and health hazards up the wazoo. So it cannot be avoided. The irony is not lost on me given my PhD work. As I am critiquing and challenging the informal economy, I am also participating in it.

My family and I buy many of our fruits and veggies from roadside veg vendors… we ride auto rickshaws all over the place…I get clothing altered by the tailor whose shop is the size of a closet…much of our trash and recyclables are sorted by rag pickers…I regularly go running on the reclamation pathway along the Arabian, a pathway that is being constructed by informal workers… This pathway is the slowest construction project in the history of humankind, so I have watched it evolve over years of visits to Mumbai. There is an ever-revolving group of laborers constructing the path. The work conditions are hard and I have not seen a single piece of safety equipment there: not one hard hat, not a single pair of work boots. Just this morning I was running and took a peek into their living quarters. Dirty, squalid, cramped. A bunch of men with temporary bedding under a portion of the pathway which is raised enough so they can sleep under it. No toilets or water in sight. In earlier years, I would see families working on the pathway, so little children were running around the rubble and the rebar. (Though hazardous and unhealthy, this site is nothing compared to mega construction projects that abound all across India. Imagine how bad it is for young children who run around huge construction sites with heavy machinery, unguarded elevator shafts, tetanus hazards everywhere, chronic-illness producing dust just waiting to settle into their little lungs, and on and on.) Stay tuned to find out more about where the women and children have gone…

And, of course, we are taken care of in so many ways by Ambubhai. My father-in-law takes care of Ambubhai and his family financially; their medical needs are met; Ambu will be fine even in retirement. But my father-in-law does so simply out of the goodness of his heart, and his own sense of justice. You can’t rely on every employer of informal labor to even have a heart. And if you read anything about domestic service anywhere around the globe, it’s clearly an exploitative work situation, and domestic servants often face abusive conditions. This is why systems have to be in place. Not just laws on the books. There are plenty of global and Indian policies about the informal economy that look great on paper. But implementation is weak and inconsistent. Relying on individual kindness to pay people what their labor is worth, and to provide them basic necessities like water on the job site, is insufficient and often leads to terrible conditions.

Oh, where is my place in this crazy global informal economy? Researcher, consumer, concerned citizen of the world, beneficiary, privileged one…

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