#prologue epilogue dialogue
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please tell me im not the only one wondering
#COOL UNNAMED ABILITIES OR NAMED ABILITIES WE DONT KNOW WHAT THEY DO I LOVE YOU#bungo stray dogs#bsd#prologue epilogue dialogue#bungou gay dogs#bungou stray dogs
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the thing about story mediums is that I don’t consider myself having ‘control’ per se over the best medium for a story. if it comes out better in writing that’s how it’s meant to be, if it comes out better in visuals that’s how it’s meant to be. sometimes there’s overlap like drawing comics or writing scenes but there’s A Reason it ends up one way or another. that’s just how the story comes out.
#writing ramble#like night flowers had to be a novella#there was one person who was like ‘this would be great as a comic!!! you could totally do it!!!!’#and like. I appreciate the energy but it’s not meant to be a comic.#if it was meant to be a comic it would’ve been a comic.#and I don’t even mean in the *~mysterious whims of the craft~* way#1) ljh is a character who is reserved in dialogue and expression#so having prose is helpful for adding to her character through over the shoulder 3rd person pov#what she noticed and where her internal logic takes her#2) this provided a strong contrast to xj’s internal narration#3) the framing device of the prologue and the epilogue (implied to be yp) is stronger through prose rather than visials#the only alternate medium I would accept for night flowers. is a musical.#I am being entirely serious.#and I have specific reasons for that too.#anyway this is partially because someone left a tag about how they’d read a novel of ol isekai which I know is intended as a compliment#but like night flowers. it is what the way it is because the story is more effective in a visual format#(despite me not being. A Polished Manga Artist)#meihui is somewhat similar to ljh because they’re both more reserved#but because of their different characters and different situations meihui’s internal narration is easier to write as a monologue#and someone could argue that could work with first person light novel style writing#but the balance between writing the scene and meihui’s monologue would be way off#comedic beats too. night flowers has comedic beats that work well in prose. ol isekai has comedic beats that work well visually.#basically: IT’S LIKE THAT FOR A REASON!!!!!!#the only alternative I’d accept would be a visual novel#and like. if I was someone else I might be able to write it in a different medium in a satisfactory way#for anyone who might be going like ‘well I can think of how it’d work as a comic/a novel instead’#I’M NOT YOU!!!#DIFFERENT PEOPLE WILL TELL DIFFERENT STORIES!!!!#WRITE IT YOURSELF THEN!!!!!! ACCEPT MY PROCESS OR LEAVE ME ALONE#legit I’d prefer it if it did work better as a novel because I’m more comfortable writing than drawing
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7 Ways to Avoid an Info Dump
7 Ways to Avoid an Info Dump
#WritingCommunity #WriterCommunity #WritingBlog #BloggerCommunity #WritingTips #Writing #Tips #InfoDump #Draft #FirstDraft #WriterTips #Prologues #Epilogues #Action #Dialogue #MultiplePerspective
Hi everyone! I hope you’re all well. Today, I’m discussing the dreaded ‘info dump’ and, in particular, some ways you can avoid it.
Whatever stage you are at in your writing career, the chances are you will have experienced the dilemma of needing to provide your readers with essential information about your story’s background while trying not to overwhelm them with a vast amount of information…
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Latibule Masterlist
(n) A hiding place; a place of safety and comfort
Season 1: Prologue. I. II. III. IV. V. VI. VII. VIII. IX. Epilogue
Season 2: Prologue. I. II. III. IV. V. VI.
Drabble (Exclusive Contents)
Latibule spinoff masterlist
Three times Suga was too blind to see through his bullshit
The confrontation dialogue: Season 2
Latibule Spinoff: Introducing Jimin and his Bear
Latibule Spinoff: Jungkook didn't want to get married, right?
Your necklace, his watch, and you
Latibule Spinoff: Introducing Seokjin and his sunshine
Latibule season 2 sneakpeak: When Yoongi woke up from his coma
MTL likely to be in denial
Latibule Spinoff: Introducing actor Taehyung and the reporter
Latibule Spinoff: Introducing Attorney Namjoon and his secretary
Latibule Spinoff: First doctor checkup
Tip Jar
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SHUFFLE ˣ UNKNOWN HOLY NIGHT AND NIGHTHEAD ! TRANSLATION
Synopsis: Tomoya is happy when he finds out he'll be doing a Shuffle Unit project alongside familiar faces. But, it turns out the real Shuffle Unit Tomoya's going to participate in consists of a bunch of his weird seniors, led by none other than…?!
Main Characters: Tomoya Mashiro, Rinne Amagi, Subaru Akehoshi, Ibara Saegusa, Yuzuru Fushimi
Side Characters: Hinata Aoi, Niki Shiina, Aira Shiratori, Mitsuru Tenma
Chapters:
Prologue
White Carol
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Black Carol
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Dream Maker
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Funky Gift
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Epilogue
a MASSIVE thank you to @yume-fanfare for agreeing to help with tomoya dialogue accuracy, and @misuzuh for being my jp proofer as well as generally a second set of eyes !! i wouldn't be able to post this if not for those two <3
#from the doctor's clipboard#enstars translation#enstars translations#unknown holy night and nighthead#rinne amagi#tomoya mashiro#ibara saegusa#subaru akehoshi#niki shiina#hinata aoi#yuzuru fushimi#mitsuru tenma#aira shiratori
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Back To You - (Din x Reader) Epilogue/Prologue for Close To Home
A/N: IT IS HEREEEEEEE!!! So sorry it took so long. So much happens. I was going to divide this and then I thought, “Hmmmmm…. No.” As one does. Another note at the end to avoid spoilers. Seriously. Don’t read it until you’ve read the whole thing. You’ve been warned. I have spoken. This is the way. Yada yada yada. …..You just jumped forward and came back didn’t you? 🙄 Also, once again, there is some lore in this that @writerlyhabits wrote in a fantastic short, and I loved it so much, I asked if I could use it.
There are parts of this you won’t understand if you didn’t read the Dincember 2022 Drabble Carry You With Me, but they are very small mentions, you will be fine as a whole if you don’t want to read it. But why wouldn’t you? 🥺
(This takes place two years after the other one, and goes to the beginning-ish of episode 1/5 of TBoBF, Return of the Mandalorian.)
I do not own Star Wars or it’s characters. Sadly. But I carry them in my heart. Does that count for something? My soul says yes.
Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff, Grogu being the cutest thing you ever did see, (Nobody touch me he’s still here okay?) and Din is once again a warning in and of himself in this one. Helmetless Din. What? Who said that? 😬 Typical show violence. Swearing. Space swearing. Grogu is a menace. Arguing? Mando’a. Show dialogue, so spoilers? (But if you’re here, you know how this works.) Return of past characters. Tears. Shenanigans. Lots of banter. Throwback to chapter one with dialogue repeats but in the best™️ way, and copious amounts of me trying to work in back to you as a normal thing in a sentence bc why not.
Word count: 16,655 (I said what I said.)
As always, thanks to @grippingbeskar for encouraging me, looking over this for me, and being the one to introduce me to Din fanfiction in the first place, getting me hooked. You are fantastic and I always love our chats.
And for @fordo-kixed-rex, you deserve so much more than a shoutout for reading all 75 million iterations of this massive chapter from start to finish, and helping me in between. You’re a real one, friend. This series would not have gotten this far without you.
Also a shoutout to @what-the-heckin-heck, @dontletyourchildrenwatchthis, @lloweryourstandardss, and @littlemisspascal for being a sounding board for me over this whole process. (Also to @deceiver-of-gods for all of your help over all the chapters with the Mando’a. I hope I got it right in this one.)
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Xxx
Two years later….
Tatooine was bustling. As always. Vendors with their wares, smells and brilliant sights everywhere you turned. Something new and exciting to pull you in and suck all your credits dry just like the planet's heat stole every drop of moisture….
But it was all nothing without the kid. It was dull and drab without Grogu at your side. His soft babbles, the odd ‘Patu’ he’d throw at the next snack he’d like to steal….
Dank farrik! Turning away from the hanging frogs at the nearest vendor, you swiped at the most recent batch of tears rising to the surface. Sniffling loudly, you melted into the warm hand that came to rest on your back, eyes fluttering shut.
“It’s okay, mesh’la. I miss him, too.” The modulated voice at your ear carried unspoken sorrow of its own, sadness it’d never dare to even whisper into the universe, lest that make it real. If he kept it hidden, secret…. Like his face, nothing in the galaxy could use it against him. Somehow it made him stronger. And you both resented that and wanted to squeeze the life out of him for it at the same time.
“It’d be nice if you’d show it once and a while….” You grumbled, turning toward him but keeping your eyes cast down to stare at the sand.
His hand fell to his side slowly. “What?” Head tilting to the side as he peered down at you in question, barely any space left between you, it leaned the other way when you shook your head with a sarcastic grin.
“Nothing. Forget it.” Your eyes lifted up to meet his visor finally, squinting against the glare of the twin suns. “Got everything?”
Din nodded. “Almost. Just need the-”
His words were cut short when the satchel across his chest suddenly dropped to the ground, the strap cut inconspicuously by a passing Rhodian seeming to casually bump into the Mandalorian only moments before.
You turned to try and find the culprit but Din tugged on your upper arm.
“Forget about him. He’s just the-” Both of you looked down at the ground to find the satchel missing, “-distraction.”
You smirked. “I see.”
As Din’s head began to swivel in search of the thief, you attempted to reach out through the crowd with the Force, searching for the familiar signature of the contents in the satchel.
“How did you not get an alert?”
Now your head was on a swivel. Directly to the Mandalorian. “A what?”
“You know.” He wiggled his fingers like Cara always did when referencing the Force. “Why didn’t you know?”
You rolled your eyes with a sigh, looking back to the crowd. “It doesn’t work that way.” The world weary words you’d said a thousand times felt like a mantra at this point. Then after a moment you added, “I’m not a security system.”
“Well that would be handy,” Din said offhandedly, beginning to walk purposefully in the direction the two of you had come not minutes before.
Stumbling after him, your face scrunched like you’d eaten something sour, you pulled on his upper arm to try and turn him around, but it only stopped him, his head still on a swivel. “Wait, what?!”
Din sighed in frustration. “I don’t know. I’m just looking for the thief. That bag has something impor-”
“Your old armor, I know.” Din’s full attention was on you now, his head tilted slightly in question. “Everything has an energy, that’s a really simplified way of how the Force works. Right now I’m trying to track the signature of your armor.”
“What is it?” He asked hesitantly, his weight shifting to one side.
Smiling softly, you took a step forward, grabbing his hand and pulling him down a side alley toward where you felt the signature grow stronger. “Nothing but goodness, Man- Din. Light and strength.” You stumbled over his name, still not used to using his actual moniker in public.
He chuckled at your fumble, shaking his head in disbelief. “From that dingy old stuff?”
“It’s not the quality of the armor that I’m reading.” You looked at his visor over your shoulder, eyebrow raised. “It’s the quality of the warrior who wore it.” Turning back forward to navigate between the street crowded with lifeforms, one side of your mouth lifted in amusement. “That type of thing leaves an impression.”
“You didn’t answer my question,” he finally grumbled quietly. When you looked back at him once again, your brow arched higher than before, he huffed. “How did you know it was there?”
Smiling softly as you held the gaze of his visor, you turned back to face forward, moving a bit faster. “You’re about as subtle as your new armor.” Din let out a soft, annoyed groan. “I saw you packing it back in Peli’s hangar.”
“I can be subtle,” he groused, slowing his steps slightly.
With your own groan, you turned to face him with a toss of your head for emphasis. “Yes. So subtle, Mandalorian. My big, shiny tin can. Now come.” Grabbing his hand once again with both of yours, you began to walk backwards, pulling him along with you. “We have a thief to catch.”
The alley had quieted down, the masses of beings thinned out so it was basically only you and Din, and maybe a handful of beings milling about, using the cross way as a shortcut to somewhere else. No one was lingering, their faces streaking by as they hurried to move on with their day.
“Hold that thought.” Din pulled you to a stop, planting his feet as he turned his head toward a crate on his left. On top of the box sat his satchel, untouched, his armor still causing it to look awkward and lumpy. “We may have just lucked ou-”
A surge of panic behind you caused you to turn toward the source, a small figure darting out of your line of sight as a familiar small voice muttered, “Oh shi-” before spinning around in Din’s hold, his grip around their forearm holding them tight.
“Okay, you little nerf herder, nice try- Sola?” Din’s voice dropped on the name.
You turned to fully face the pair, eyes going wide on the small girl now a young adult, maybe twelve, possibly thirteen years old now.
She looked between the two of you, her expression a mirror of your own, as her body deflated in Din’s hold, her weight going slack in his grip while she cried in disbelief, “It’s you?!”
You couldn’t help the highly intelligent thing that tumbled out of you next. “It’s you?!”
Sola sighed a sigh worthy of a Mandalorian before she grumbled, kicking one foot at the sand path of the alleyway. “I knew I recognized that armband.”
Reaching up, you traced over the ribbons on your left bicep with the tips of your fingers on your right hand, eyes darting down to look at it briefly before they pulled back up to level a stern glare on the girl.
Before anything else could be said, heavy footfalls came racing up behind your little gathering. A female stumbled the last few steps, coming to a stop and collapsing, slapping her hands onto her knees before you could see her face, struggling to catch her breath. You opened your mouth to greet the newcomer, but she held up one finger before you could utter a sound.
Din finally muttered in disbelief, “Cara?”
Your head whipped over toward the figure, eyes wider still. “It’s you?!” A hand came up to rest on your forehead, massaging back and forth as if that would help things sink in and make more sense. Your brows practically knit together in confusion with this new information, one arching up as you stared at the woman. “I’m so confused.”
Standing up, with one last heavy breath, Cara offered the two of you a tired smile. “Following up a lead.”
She held up a hand to stop Din before he could even ask, her eyes closing in mock annoyance. “Long story.” She opened them once again to land directly on you with a wink as Din sighed in exasperation before her attention turned onto Sola, her hand falling to gesture to the adolescent before landing at her side with a graceless slap. “And this little womp rat stole my commlink.”
Din looked down at the girl, giving her arm still in his grip a little shake. “This is Sola.”
The girl shrunk under the stare of three adults.
Cara’s gaze flicked up towards his visor, almost accusingly. “Friend of yours?” You nodded, and she sighed, hands going to her hips, weight shifting to one side. “Why am I not surprised?”
“Sola,” you tried calmly, going over to grab Din’s satchel before it was forgotten in the chaos. “Explain, please.”
“Nothing. It was nothing. I just grabbed hers by mistake, that’s all.” She shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant.
Cara leveled a look on the girl, her tone dry. “Off my belt?”
Sola tried a grin. “Whoops?”
The Marshal lifted the look to Din.
“Don’t do that to me,” he complained. “I didn’t teach her that.”
“Don’t even pretend to look at me next, Cara,” you held up your hand to stop her before she even tried. “I only taught her good things.”
Sola rolled her eyes and tried to tug out of Din’s hold, but the Mandalorian easily held her in place.
“Have a seat,” you offered sweetly, pulling the crate the bag had been on toward you with the Force, and giving her a nudge to sit. “Talk.”
She stared over at the wall behind you, grinning in disbelief. “It was a dare, okay?” Her eyes pulled up to meet yours, their hard stare melting slightly once they did, revealing something vulnerable, something broken. Her voice softened just slightly, but still held the mock vibrato she started out with, making you huff as she continued. “Some kids dared me to take someone’s bag, and I was just unlucky enough to choose you.”
“And my comlink?” Cara tried.
Sola turned to her with a cheesy grin. “That was just bad luck on your end.”
“I’ll show you bad luck,” Cara grumbled, stepping closer to the teen.
You stepped between them. “Cara.”
“What?” She barked, trying to peer over your shoulder at the girl before looking you in the eyes.
“No.”
“She stole-”
“She’s a kid,” you corrected. “Tell me you didn’t do dumb stuff when you were her age. Hell, you do dumb stuff now.”
“You’re one to talk,” Cara grumbled.
You smirked, arms crossing over your chest as your weight shifted to one leg. “Ah, but I travel with a Mandalorian. What’s your excuse?”
Cara scoffed. “I knew him first, if we’re going that route.”
“I’m right here,” Din said, somewhat offended, reaching out to gently push Sola down by the shoulder without a second glance when she went to stand up.
You kept your voice even, mildly distracted as you spoke somewhat flippantly. “Mandalorians who shot their partner in the leg don’t get to talk right now.”
“I didn’t shoot you!” He protested, voice going up at the end in agitation.
“You shot her?” Cara asked at the same time Din spoke, turning to look at him with raised brows.
“I didn’t shoot her!” Din corrected before Cara could even finish, his visor swiveling back to you. “It was a ricochet.” His head tilted to the right as he stared at you. “On Gideon’s ship. The bolt bounced off the droid when she launched at it, and-”
You waved your hand dismissively, gaze landing on nothing in particular across the street. “Same thing.”
“It is no-”
“Ugh!” Sola threw her head back and groaned, staring at the sky with wide eyes, her voice went up with each following word. “This is torture!” Her head lowered back to look between the three of you, eyes narrowed to slits before they fluttered shut and she heaved another heavy sigh. “Fine. I’ll talk.” She leaned back on her palms on the crate, her face finally relaxing to something more neutral. “Just…. Stop whatever…. This,” she gestured vaguely with one hand while her nose scrunched up slightly in disgust, “is.”
You turned back to face her, nodding for her to go on, but Din interrupted.
“Later.”
You rolled your eyes as he waved his finger at you in admonishment before landing them back on the girl, smiling softly. “Go on, Sola.”
She hesitated before taking a quick breath and letting it all out on an exhale, speaking quickly. “My parents are diplomats from a planet in the Mid Rim.”
“Woah, woah, woah, slow down, kid!”
Sola glared at you, taking an exaggeratedly deep breath before speaking overly clearly the rest of her explanation. “We’re here to broker peace between the different ruling houses and our world.”
“Hey, if you’re going to have an attitude, we can just leave,” you warned.
“Great!” Sola beamed. “Bye!” She went to rise from the crate but both Din and Cara pushed down on a shoulder on each side respectively, earning a soft oomph! from the teen.
She sighed resignedly before going on. “But as you can probably guess, that goes as smooth as sand in a hyperdrive.” She took a deep breath. “I’m not allowed to do anything. I have to keep up appearances, and stay inside most of the time now because we have gotten death threats after a deal gone bad recently.”
Din visibly stiffened beside her, Cara, too. A chill ran up your spine as she continued.
As she relaxed further back into the crate, her words seemed almost lazy, lackadaisical. “So I started sneaking out. Nothing major, just needed some fresh air, well, it’s Tatooine, so, air.” Her tone went rigid with her posture, the spark in her fading to a dull ember as her volume faded to a mere murmur. Her index finger traced lines along her knee as her eyes followed the invisible trails it made. “Then I met them.”
“Who?”
Sola met your eyes, almost startled when you asked, like she’d forgotten people were listening. She shrugged one shoulder, her eyes dropping back down to her lap, her tone still soft. “Doesn’t matter. A group of kids. They do petty crimes and stuff, I wasn’t going to do anything, but they said they were going to tell the people who had been sending death threats how I was sneaking in and out at night.” Her hand stilled, then began poking at the ankle of her foot tucked up under her absently, her eyes cast down at the ground. “They had been watching me, I guess. Let them know all our weak points in security. If I didn’t do a job for them, then they’d tell….”
“And one job turned into more….”
She nodded at your comment. Her eyes flickering up to meet yours for only a second before they pulled down again.
“Why didn’t you just tell your parents and beef up security?” Din’s voice was in planning mode.
Sola peered up at him, squinting against the suns’ light. “And prove I’d let them down?” She looked down at her lap, fiddling her thumbs. “Sneaking around, been committing petty crimes? Would you have done that?”
Din looked at the ground, his voice quiet. “Probably not.”
“Give me my comlink,” Cara said, holding out her hand toward the girl.
You huffed, arms crossing over your chest. “Really, Cara? You hear all that and you’re still banging on about your damned-”
Once the device was in her hand, she took a few steps away and spoke into it in a professional voice. “This is Marshal Dune. Please call off the search. It wasn’t stolen, I just dropped it. Sorry for the confusion.” A male voice you couldn’t quite make out garbled over static on the other end. “Yeah, I’m fine,” Cara replied, turning to face the three of you. “Also, I’m going to take off the rest of the day. Found some booths I want to wander through. We’ll pick up our meeting tomorrow. Yeah. See you then.”
She made her way back over, clipping the comlink to her belt. “I just bought us about twelve hours. What’s the plan?”
“Plan?” Sola looked between the three of you with wide eyes.
You smiled. Her gaze was up and off the ground for the first time this conversation. And it was full of hope.
“Of course,” you said, smiling gently. “Nobody messes with a member of our family and gets away with it.” Sola grinned at your words. You’d do pretty much anything to keep it there. “Now, let’s go scare some thugs, shall we?”
Xxx
“Now, I know that you packed it,” you said, standing in the fresher of the Crest, voice jiggling as you hopped slightly to pull the armor higher up your chest. “But I don’t know why.”
“Oh, the Jedi is stumped, is she?” Din’s sarcastic amusement was muted through the door, making you roll your eyes.
Setting your weight to one hip, you pressed the button, and the durasteel barrier hissed open to reveal your Mandalorian leaning against the frame. His arms across his chest as he waited for you, his posture easy and relaxed, he looked like a growth on the walls of his ship.
Cara and Sola were out in the hangar with Peli, their voices faintly heard along with the annoyed bleeps and bloops of R5 as they echoed off the stone walls and up the open ramp.
“Not stumped,” you countered quickly, walking around him to the middle of the cargo hold as you pulled your gloves on, chin held high as you chose your next words with care. His visor followed you as you went. “Just…. Curious.” You finally landed on with a huff, looking down at your hands as they fiddled mindlessly before adding on a mumbled, “And I’m not a Jedi.”
Din pushed off the wall, his head shaking gently in disbelief as he walked toward you slowly. “I was going to have Boba melt it down and forge it into something better.” He stopped somewhere behind you. You were purposely not paying attention, trying not to get distracted and make sure your armor was set up correctly, only faintly registering the absence of the soft thud of his boots on the metallic floor of the Crest right behind you before he went on. “I don’t know where the armorer is right now, and it’s not full beskar anyway, so any smith could do it, but I trust him.”
“Something better?” You turned to face him, head tilted to the side as you clicked your vambraces into place, their gears whirring to life. Stumbling back an inch as you startled, his chest plate brushing against your nose he was so close, you reached out to swat his arm lightly in annoyance, muttering a Don’t do that and shaking your hand out to the side with a grimace after it pinged off his beskar. Craning your head back to look up at him properly, you couldn’t help the small grin when you found him already peering down at you. “Like what?”
Din’s head tilted just so to the right. “Something for you.” He didn’t miss a beat.
Your eyes widened slightly before they narrowed to slits. “You’re not going to tell me, are you?”
He was smiling. You could tell by the lilt in his voice as he leaned into the tilt of his head, his body following and started down the ramp. “You know me so well.”
Reaching out, you grabbed his cape. “Nu-uh. Not so fast, Tin Can. Hold up.” Pulling him back to you, though he gave very little resistance, you leaned around to look into his visor when he was a few inches away, his hands on his hips in mock annoyance. “You don’t have to do that.” Your voice had gone soft. He turned to face you fully. “I know that armor is important to you.”
“So are you.”
You grinned. “Smooth, Shiny. Real smooth.”
Din shrugged one shoulder, his hands falling to rest at his sides loosely. “I have my moments.”
You nodded, starting down the ramp, and talking over your shoulder. “And they are few and far between.”
Din scoffed. “Lucky for you. You couldn’t handle me at full throttle.”
Grinning, you looked down at your vambraces and twisted them a bit. “That sounded like a threat.”
“It’s whatever you wanted it to be, mesh’la.”
“You look like a Mando.” Sola’s voice pulled your attention away from the man at your back before you could reply.
“What? In beskar?” You gestured to the armor down your body. “No.”
The young girl rolled her eyes at you.
Grinning, you reached up to adjust your scarf tucked in to make the armor fit a bit better, and noticed her posture go rigid.
“You kept it,” she mumbled, pointing lamely toward the blue material around your neck.
“Yeah? Why wouldn’t I?”
She shook her head. “No, it’s not that. It’s just….” She pulled at her flowing poncho, revealing her bright pink scarf, still vivid as ever, tucked away underneath, close to her heart. “I have mine, too,” she amended softly. “I keep it hidden so it doesn’t get dirty or torn.”
“Kind of like my armband….” You mumbled, closing the last few steps between you before reaching out to softly roll the fabric of her scarf between your thumb and index finger as she traced the ribbon on your bicep with the tips of her own.
“I still have no idea what hyperspace looks like,” she mused, staring at the glittering fabric with a sad smile. “I was so little when we came here, and my parents wouldn’t let me anywhere near a cockpit. I’ve only ever been in a cabin while the ship was moving. No viewports….” She met your eyes again, hand falling to her side. “Supposedly we flew beside some purrgil and even then they wouldn’t let me look.”
Letting your own hand fall to your side, fiddling with the air aimlessly, you held her gaze. “Why not?”
Sola shrugged. “Not sure. They said something about safety at the time, and I just never pressed it, but now it just feels suffocating.”
“I know it’s annoying,” Din chimed in softly from behind you, his shadow looming over the young girl in the dying sun’s light, “but I would give anything to have my parents be overbearing one more time.”
Sola’s eyes flew up to the Mandalorian. “What happened to them?”
“A story for another time,” he said stoically, turning to the right and going deeper into the hangar. “Let’s confirm the plan.”
You turned with Cara and Sola on your left to head that way, Peli falling in step on your right as the droids followed along behind.
“They aren’t around anymore. It happened when he was very young, about the same age as when we met you. That’s why he became a Mandalorian. That’s all I’ll say,” you offered quietly. “The rest is his story to tell.”
The first stars were twinkling overhead as the sky said good night in brilliant shades of red and orange.
Once your party had circled around one of Peli’s many cluttered tables off to the side, the top of it littered with ship parts, Din turned to you.
“Gar beskar'gam jate slanar?” (“Your armor good to go?”)
You nodded. “Elek. An jate.” (“Yes. All good.”)
Sola turned her head slowly up toward Cara, one brow arched in confusion.
The Marshal slowly shook her head, eyes closed. “They do this….”
“Do what?” You asked, brows knit toward your friend.
Cara leveled you with a look. “Start speaking in any one of a thousand languages none of the rest of us know.”
R5 started beeping animatedly, trilling as he wheeled back and forth on his treads excitedly, and ended on a raspberry, making you and Peli laugh.
“Oh, great,” Cara rolled her eyes, “even the droid’s are in on it.”
BD and Treadwell made their way into the circle, the Pit droids not far behind, all of them chattering away as they approached you until Din sent a blaster shot pinging off of a piece of scrap pipe over in a corner.
The droids all screeched before going silent, freezing in their steps as Peli cried in protest, “Hey! Watch it!”
“Yeah, we don’t want another ricochet,” you mumbled, adjusting your armor for no good reason besides looking down and away from his judgemental visor.
Cara and Sola snickered from their spots across the table from you, the weight of Din’s stare beside you nothing short of stifling.
“If you stare any louder, Din, they may ask you to be quiet all the way on Coruscant,” you muttered quietly, adjusting your vambraces needlessly for the umpteenth time to hide the growing smirk across your face.
“I’ll just tell them it’s because of you, they'll understand. Garner sympathy.”
Only your eyes lifted up to glare daggers at his visor, his head tilting to the side teasingly as he held your gaze.
“The plan?” You groused, looking across the table with a sigh as your weight shifted to one side - away from the Mandalorian.
His tone was light, as if it held a smile, while he laid out the steps of the plan one more time. “Sola said they would be meeting her back at the market in an hour. She meets them as planned. The three of us follow her, and stick around in the shadows, as inconspicuously as possible-”
“Says the man who’s a walking mirror.”
Din didn’t even bother to look at you, only sighing at your remark, his shoulders rising and falling with the effort before he went on. “From there, we follow them back to their base of operations. From what we’ve heard, shouldn’t be too hard to get into. We get in, cause a little chaos, get them to release Sola from this…. Contract, then we leave as quietly as we came.”
“No one dies.”
Cara nodded at your words, Din nodding once in agreement, his body going stiff at your next statement.
“Even if we run into a Jawa.”
He took a deep breath to begin to protest, but you held up a finger to stop him, mocking his words from earlier.
“Later.”
Xxx
Spotting the culprits was easy enough. They weren’t sly about anything as they paraded through the streets with their puffed up chests, smirking as people scattered from them should they get too close. They hassled a vendor or two, shaking them down for a payout, and Cara grumbled beside you, gripping the buckle that showed she was a Marshal tightly through her poncho she wore to conceal it.
Before you could do anything, Din was hot on their heels, handing the vendors a stack of credits to make reparations as soon as the thugs’ backs were turned. They would try and insist he keep it, lightly shoving the money back into his hands, but Din somehow managed to sweet talk them into accepting every time, his head ducked down slightly, hand over theirs in a calming gesture. You wished you could hear what he said.
“I’ve never seen this side of him,” Cara muttered offhandedly. “Caring, soft almost. It looks good on him.”
“Yeah, it does,” you agreed softly. “That’s how he is with the kid. Grogu brought out a side of him I don’t think would have seen the light of day otherwise.”
She elbowed you. “Oh, I dunno. You’re pretty persuasive. Think it’d’ve come out eventually.”
You slid only your eyes sideways to look at her. “Why must you shit talk me?”
“Because if I don’t I’ll simply fade away. It gives me sustenance. I could go days without food, but teasing you? That simply wouldn’t do.”
Turning your head to peer at her incredulously, you spoke in a low voice after a long moment of silence. “I’m going to go stand over there,” you pointed behind you, “as far away from you as possible right now.”
Cara scoffed. “Good. Go. Your beskar'gam is drawing too much attention, anyway.”
With a grin, you began walking backwards down the street, keeping to the shadows. “Aw, you paid attention.”
Your friend glared at you. “Don’t make me regret it.”
A shit eating grin was across your face. “You’re speaking Mando’a….”
Cara huffed, her attention turning back to the street as she mumbled, “Last time I make that mistake.”
Stopping short, you stood up straight. “Aw, don’t be afraid to show your feelings, Cara. Feelings are a good thing. They make us human-”
“If you don’t stop talking-”
“Are you two done?” Din’s voice across the alley from the two of you pulled both sets of eyes his way. “They left a few minutes ago, but I couldn’t get a word in edgewise, what with your bickering.” His head swiveled between you and the Marshal, judgment heavy through his visor. “Sola is with them, I gave her a tracker, slipped it to her when no one was looking while someone,” he looked at you pointedly, “wasn’t paying attention.”
“I was paying attention,” you groused, voice lowering as you kicked at the sand below your feet. “Just not to that.”
“She was talking about you,” Cara tattled, stepping out of the shadows and into the moonlight, stretching like a loth cat.
“So were you!” You protested, also stepping into the nightlight, making Cara squint as she held up a hand as if to block the glare of the reflection off your armor. Swatting her hand down, you knit your brows at her. “It’s not that bright out here, don’t be dramatic.”
“Children. I’m surrounded by literal children,” Din muttered, turning and walking away exasperatedly.
“There’s no need to be rude,” you grumbled, following after him.
“Then prove me wrong,” he called over his shoulder. “Right now you’re worse than Grogu.” You gasped. “When he needs a nap.” Cara gasped. “And he’s hungry.” You both gasped.
“I take it all back,” Cara stormed past Din, her words brusque and aloof. “You’re the meanest person I know.”
“Person?” Your tone was incredulous as you sped up to fall in step with her ahead of the Mandalorian, head swiveling to land on him with a sly smirk over your next word. “Droid.”
Din stopped in his tracks and sighed, head tilting back to the sky just slightly with a gentle shake. “Oh, this mission is off to a great start.”
When both you and Cara kept walking ahead of him, the bounty hunter finally called out on a hiss, “Hey! Are you two done?”
“I don’t know, are we?” You turned on your heel to face him, hands on your hips as you planted your feet and arched your brows in question, almost accusingly.
Din bit his tongue before he turned this into a whole something else before this entire endeavor even got off the ground…. again. For the third? fourth? time. He’d lost track of how many times they’d gotten off track in the last five minutes alone, let alone today as a whole.
With a jut of his thumb to his left down a narrow alley, he tilted his head that way for emphasis. “Thugs’re that way.”
Both you and Cara hesitated for only a moment, weight shifting slightly from side to side before you dropped your hands from your hips with a huff and headed toward the alley, your Marshal friend in tow.
As you passed by Din, he muttered a low and amused, “Oh wise one.”
“I’ll tell Sola you said so,” you shot back in a low murmur. “She already knows I’m the smart one.” The alley was so small you had to form a single file line, and somehow you were in the front with Cara behind you, and Din pulling up the back.
“She just lets you think that’s what she thinks,” Cara hummed. “We all know it’s me.”
Din snorted. “It’s neither of you.” He shook his head at the two sets of eyes shooting daggers at him over their shoulders as they came to an abrupt stop in front of him. “I’m the one with the map and the tracker, remember?” He tapped the right side of his helmet with his index finger.
“Oh, will you just get in front and lead, you overgrown Tin Can?!” You hissed, flattening yourself against the wall to let him pass, the heat of the day still clinging to the wall at your back.
Cara rolled her eyes as she squished herself, allowing him through, but it was still a tight fit all around between the three of you. When Din passed her, his back against the opposing wall, she grimaced though he moved quickly. “Will you just get out of my face, Shiny?”
“What, you mean you don’t want to get to know me this well?” Din relaxed his weight a little, leaning into her slightly. “I thought we were friends.”
Cara shoved him with one arm toward you, making him laugh as he kept going, stumbling slightly from the impact. “We won’t be if you keep on that thread of conversation, Mando.”
Din stopped directly in front of you, tilting his head sideways as he muttered softly, “Hi, mesh’la.” Leaning his forehead into yours, he chuckled softly at Cara’s over exaggerated gag in reaction.
“I’m trying to be mad at you,” you grumbled, fisting one hand into his cowl as you ignored Cara’s groans, elbowing her in the ribs with your free arm when she continued.
“What was that for?!” She cried in protest.
“Just because I’m happy, doesn’t mean you need to moan about it.”
Her face scrunched in disgust as she looked away at the wall across from her. “Go be happy somewhere else. We have a job to do.”
Din sighed. “She’s right,” and pushed off the wall to get in front.
You held on to his cape from behind him. “No. No, she’s never right.” Cara landed a swift kick to the back of your boot. “Ow! What was that for?”
“For being so wrong all the time!”
“Don’t make me speak Mando’a to you,” you grumbled. “Or how about Huttese? I also know Shyriiwook now, too.”
“How about you speak silence.”
Din snorted at the Marshal’s words from his spot in front of you, Cara huffing out a laugh from behind.
“When all of this is over, you both are gonna pay.”
“You don’t scare me,” Cara scoffed.
Looking over your shoulder, you arched a brow, holding up one hand by your face and wiggling your fingers. “Well maybe I should.”
Her face went pale, her steps faltering slightly as understanding dawned on her features. “You don’t scare me,” she repeated, her voice softer after she swallowed roughly.
You chuckled, turning back to face Din’s cape once again. “The Force works in mysterious ways.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Before you could answer, Din cut in, without bothering to turn around, “It's just her way of threatening to trip you. Don’t read into it too much.”
He no sooner said that than he was stumbling forward down the alley, reaching out to brace himself on the walls with his forearms.
“Look at that? My boot also works in mysterious ways.”
“What happened?” Cara asked, oblivious to you tripping Din with the toe of your shoe.
“Gravity. Don’t read too much into it.”
Grinning up at the back of the Mandalorian’s helmet where he had stopped in front of you, you let go of his cape still in your grip. “Careful, Din. There’s gravity there.”
“What did he even trip on?” Cara’s voice was incredulous.
“Air? His ego? Pride…. The options are endless….”
“The foot of an over eager Jedi that’s about to be in her mouth if she keeps talking,” Din hissed, barely looking over his shoulder at the two of you, arms falling from the walls to his sides.
“How do you mean?” You scoffed, following after him as he began to move down the alley again.
“We’re here,” he said with a flourish, the small avenue opening up to a wide street brightly lit with several buildings that dead ended down on the right. With a swooping gesture, he moved to the left, making room for the two of you to step forward beside him, his visor following you closely before tilting to the side. “You’re welcome.”
“She’s right,” Cara mused quietly. “Your ego is big enough for all three of us to trip on.”
“At least it’s well deserved,” Din groused. “I got us here, didn’t I?”
“You followed a map. That was attached to a tracker. A blindfolded bantha wouldn’t have had a much more difficult time….” You said offhandedly, surveying the area.
Din stared at you for a long moment. “That armor makes you mean,” he grumbled.
“It makes me wonderful,” you countered, eyes across the street on a conspicuous crate, narrowing when it jostled slightly. “You’re just jealous that it looks better on me than it ever did on you.”
“Yeah. That’s it,” Din agreed sarcastically, his weight shifting to one side as he followed your line of sight. Pressing the side of his helmet, he immediately went into planning mode. “I’ve got two heat signatures.”
“Matches up with what I’m sensing. Two life forms. A whole mess more inside.” You took your blaster from its holster, its gears whirring to life. “Everyone set to stun?”
Hums of agreement came back at you along with nods in your peripheral.
“I’ll go in on the right while you two take care of whoever is lurking over there,” Cara gestured across the street with her blaster. “Sneak in that side door and start clearing until I find Sola and slip her a blaster, then we’ll find this boss.”
“I’m in,” you agreed, while Din nodded in agreement beside you. “Let’s go, Tin Can. We have some thugs we need to introduce to beskar.”
Xxx
Storming the place was easy. These thieves didn’t know the first thing about defending their home base.
Getting out on the other hand…. That was proving to be more difficult.
You pulled up behind a wall, tucking your arms into your chest as tightly as possible to make yourself a smaller target, your blaster held between both hands at the ready.
“You said this would be easy!” Din yelled from his mirror position across the hall. Well, almost mirror. He leaned on one shoulder, blaster held up in the opposite hand near his head. His whole body looked just on this side of casual.
“I said no such thing. You did,” you countered, trying to mimic his posture subtly. “And on that note, Cara was the one who said you and I should go in together, so this is all-”
“Oh, no, you don’t,” Cara’s voice carried from down the hall, the first word elongated as she slid across the floor on her hip to avoid flying blaster bolts to finally land next to you before popping up. “Don’t you dare drag me into this lovers tiff. Nuh-uh.”
Both you and Din spoke in tandem, “This isn’t-”, “We’re not-”
“Yeah, yeah,” Sola said dismissively, jogging up easily behind Din, a singe mark on the shoulder of her poncho.
Din stood up straight in an instant, took her arm in his hold gently to examine it, turning her every which way to get a better look. “What happened?”
“Told the boss I quit.” She grinned proudly before it melted into a grimace. “He didn’t take it so well.”
Blaster bolts zinged down the hall between the four of you, streaking the air in vibrant shades of purple and red, even an errant green here and there.
“If I could just use my saber-” you started, cut off by the unanimous voices of your friends.
“No!”
Letting your head lull back against the wall with a gentle thump, you rolled it in aggravation before facing the others again. “And why not?! I’ve saved your asses so many times!”
“Close quarters!” Cara was gesturing with her hands while she spoke, referencing the hall. “Too many people!” She gestured between the four of you. “Laser sword very bright! Very hot!”
You narrowed your eyes at your friend. “I singed one corner of your tunic. One!”
“And that was one too many,” Din countered, popping around the corner to let off a barrage of shots before coming back for safety.
“This was my favorite,” Cara said forlornly, looking down at the smoldering fabric.
“I’ll buy you another one.”
“No you won’t,” Cara scoffed. “You can’t afford my tastes-”
“Can we please focus on getting out of here!” Sola’s annoyed voice rang out louder than the blaster fire, pulling all three gazes her way.
Din was the first to break, turning back to lay down cover fire once again around the corner. “Kid’s right,” he grunted, before letting off a shot that was accompanied by a pained scream at the end of the hall.
“I thought we were set to stun?” You hissed.
Din looked down at his blaster and shrugged meekly, flipping it back to stun. “Sorry. Old habits….”
“I know I am,” Sola said matter of factly, pulling you back to the topic at hand. “Now what’s the plan?”
Stepping a little closer to the corner you were tucked behind, you holstered your blaster. “The plan is for you all to eat your words tonight.”
“What are you doing?” Cara’s worried tone sounded at your back, Din’s incredulous one to your left. “Mesh’la, come on, don’t do something-”
“To save our skins?” You finished for him, looking up into his visor with a determined glint in your eye. “Watch me.”
After taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes and stepped out into the hall where the blaster fire had died down just slightly. The few earrent bolts bounced away from you as if they were hitting a force field. Confused whispers from the enemy preceded a pickup in the rapid fire, bolts flying at a new frenzy, none of which came anywhere close to touching you or your friends.
Lifting your hands in front of you, the bolts began to stop, hovering in mid air inches from your face, your hands, some several feet from you. The room glowed with multi-colored plasma bolts hovering above the floor. As the shots died out, silence filling in the blanks left behind, the corner of your mouth twitched up in an amused smirk.
With a small twitch of your index finger, all their blasters were disabled with a tink.
When you opened your eyes, the blaster bolts that hung suspended all immediately flew the other way, back toward the senders, but in such a way that they wouldn’t hit anybody.
Within an instant the group of thieves at the end of the hall were left cowering, curled away from the stranger approaching them from the opposite end of the hall. Some blinked wide eyes while others scrambled back, all of them surrounded by smoke swirling around from the black scorches left behind from the blaster bolts.
“I think we win,” you said calmly, walking toward them slowly.
“Not if I have anything to say about it!” One rogue thief said, jumping to his feet, blaster aimed at you.
“I wouldn’t do that,” you warned, not even looking at him.
When he pulled the trigger and nothing happened, he looked at his blaster in confusion, pulling the trigger a few more times before shaking it incessantly. “Oh, well.” He shrugged. “I have this.” He pulled a spare from the back of his pants.
In two seconds flat Din had stepped forward and shot him with a stun bolt, dropping him to the ground.
“Like I said,” you pulled the active blaster to you with the Force, disengaging the firing mechanism like you had the others before tucking it into the back of your own pants. “I wouldn’t do that.”
“You don’t need another one,” Din groaned. “That makes what, seven now?”
You scoffed. “Not nearly.” With a dry chuckle, you shook your head. “Try three.”
“Including the knife?”
“Oh, yeah! The knife. No, that’s four.”
“Guys!” Cara cried, walking up to stand on the other side of you. “Seriously?”
“What?” You looked at her a moment before cutting your eyes toward the thieves still looking on in silence. “I’m just recounting the weapons I’ve won from our various missions! I see something I like, I take it.”
“These guys don’t care.” Cara gestured to them with her blaster.
“No…. But I do.” You turned to look at the punks with a broad grin. “And something tells me they want to keep me really happy. Right?”
They all nodded vigorously. All but one. He got to his feet as he said, “Oh, kark this!” He was no sooner on his feet than Din had hit him with a stun bolt, dropping him into a heap of limbs where he stood.
“At least you remembered to use stun this time,” you threw over your shoulder towards Din, never looking away from the band of thieves still looking on wide eyed at your little party of four.
“Yeah…. But I’ve been known to forget things real fast,” Din mumbled, shifting his weight just slightly to rest easily on one leg. The way he held his blaster would make anyone think he’d gone soft, but you knew if someone made a wrong move, they’d be down in an instant.
“Here’s what's gonna happen,” Cara stepped forward, her Marshal voice in full swing. “Sola over here is out. I don’t wanna hear of any of you within spitting distance of her ever again, do you hear me?”
Most of them nodded, wide eyed at the Marshal. All but one. It’s always one, you thought with a smile and gentle shake of your head.
“And what’re you gonna do about it? Marshal?” The way the punk said her name dripped with so much sarcasm and venom, you were surprised Cara was still standing. If looks could kill, she’d be dead right now. “You don’t even live here, so how are you going to enforce anything?”
To his credit, he looked slightly afraid when you and Din took measured steps forward while Cara spoke.
“I have friends all over. I don’t think you want to find out just how far my reach can go…. Young man.”
Cara winced slightly on the last words and it took everything in you not to burst out laughing. The way her eyes darted over to you, however briefly, with a mighty rise and fall of her shoulders told you she knew she’d never hear the end of this.
He scoffed. “Like I’d believe any of that.”
“But you’d believe blaster bolts levitating in space then flying the wrong way?” You challenged, taking another small step forward.
The kid scoffed again.
“You believe this?” Din was striding forward, his vambraces whirring to life as the flame thrower charged up.
Reaching out with the Force, you disengaged his vambrace as the wall of fire just started to lick at the toes of the boots of the insolent kid.
“Not now, Mando. I think he gets it.” Shooting your eyes over to the kid before looking back into his visor, you saw him glance over to find the teen cowering behind the others, mumbling apologies.
Din strode over to you, keeping his body facing the group of adolescents to make them think he was still a threat, which he was, but you knew him well enough to know he was looking at you now and not them, his head turned just slightly.
“Turning off my vambraces now, huh?”
You shrugged. “What can I say? You shouldn’t be frying teenagers, Din. It’s not nice.”
Leaning closer to your ear, his voice hummed through the modulator, something in his tone different this time. “Later,” he promised again.
You grinned, winking at Cara as she rolled her eyes and walked off with an over dramatically gagging Sola. “Can’t wait.”
Xxx
Back at the hangar, the four of you tried to move as quietly as possible, to not wake a sleeping Peli.
“I can’t thank you enough. I don’t know how I could ever repay you-”
Placing your hand on Sola’s shoulder, you smiled down at her when her big eyes looked up your way. So much like the first time you met her all those years ago. “There’s nothing to thank. That’s just what families do.”
“We help each other,” Cara agreed, stepping up behind Sola and putting her arm around her shoulders. Tilting her head to the side in thought, she added with a grin, “And yeah, sometimes we want to murder each other, too, but….” She looked at Din. “It comes and goes.”
“Mostly comes,” the Mandalorian muttered, adjusting his belt before walking off toward the ramp of the Crest. He stopped at the foot of it, withdrawing a vibroblade from his boot before he turned around and walked back. “Hey, kid.” He offered Sola the blade. “Take care of yourself.”
“You bet I will,” she mumbled around a grin, flipping the blade in her palm with expert precision that had your brow arching. Upon closer inspection, she saw a mudhorn upon the hilt. “That’s the same symbol that’s on your armor….” She looked over at your saber. “And your….”
“Like I said,” you pulled her into a hug. “We take care of family.”
“Where’s my mudhorn?” Cara groused.
Din extended a blaster with a freshly etched mudhorn he had tucked into the back of his belt to Sola as he looked at Cara, head tilted just so. “Hidden with your act of valor. Go find it.”
“You’re mean,” Cara shoved his shoulder.
“You’d get tired of us anyway,” you mused in response to Cara, wrapping your arms around Din’s waist in what seemed an innocent manner, then lightly pinching his side in admonishment, smiling at his slight groan in response. Before he could get his own arm around your waist in retaliation, you pinned it to his side with the Force, smiling up at him smugly when he grunted in unamusement.
“I already have,” she agreed, looking down her nose at the two of you.
“No you haven’t,” Din countered tiredly as he turned back toward the ship, heading up the ramp.
“What do you know?” She called after him.
“Everything!” His voice came from inside the ship overlapping your muttered, “Nothing.”
“Not enough,” you amended with a grin, meeting Cara’s eye as she returned your smile. “He doesn’t know nearly enough.”
“It’s a good thing I love teaching, then.” She laughed, offering you a hug before she turned to leave the hangar. After a few steps, she stopped and looked back over her shoulder. “You coming kid?”
Sola hesitated in her spot in front of you. “But I don’t…. I don’t wear armor.”
“Verd'ika….” You reached out and rested your hand on her shoulder. “Ad’ika. Cyare'se. Daworir’ika. Ka’ra’ika…. Almost all of my nicknames for you had something to do with little.” (“Little soldier. Little one. Loved ones. Little stink. Little star.”)
“Not so little anymore.”
“I can see that,” you smiled softly. “Tal tomad.”
She pulled a face. “Do I even want to know?”
“Blood ally.” You reached out and pinched her scarf between your finger tips. “Verd ori'shya beskar'gam.”
“What…. What does that mean?”
You smiled. “I need to come with a protocol droid….” She laughed. “Warrior greater than armor. It means armor isn’t everything.” Moving your hand from her scarf to rest on her shoulder once again, you felt Din come to stand behind you, his reflection beginning to morph in Sola’s watering eyes. “It’s who wears it.”
Xxx
As you watched Cara and Sola walk out of the hangar, Din pulled you to the side gently.
“Speaking of armor, you don’t have any now, either.”
Looking down at the armor still very much on your frame, you looked up at his visor and blinked at him once. Twice. “Excuse me?”
He shifted his weight, hands resting on his belt in his default I already explained this pose. “I’m about to meet up with Boba in a few minutes. Need the armor so I can give it to him.”
You matched his posture, ignoring his indignant head roll. “Oh right. For this super secret thing for me I can’t know about.”
Din nodded once. “You got it.”
Shaking your head in disbelief, you turned and made your way up the ramp of the Crest, not bothering to turn around as you grumbled, “You’re awful.”
“I know.” His tone was nothing short of beaming.
Xxx
The next day, the two of you were up with the suns and beginning work on the Crest with a handful of Peli’s droids.
The woman herself had appeared after a while, but she obviously was not intended for morning hours.
Peli had disappeared into the shaded depths of the hangar, citing paperwork of some sort, but her snores could be heard from the main landing area.
One thing led to another, and the work on the ship was forgotten in favor of brushing up on footwork with two chosen weapons.
The hanger sung with the clashing of beskar on kyber, his spear standing resilient against your purple blade.
The pit droids were hard at work on the Crest to try and cover up the cacophony of battle sounds rising up into the air.
As it hit a new fever pitch, you and Din drawing close together after some particularly fancy footwork, the glow of kyber straining against beskar painting your faces in a soft illuminated glow as you pulled closer still, you smirked.
“I think that means I win, Mandalorian.”
Din scoffed, his modulator popping with the sound. “Nayc. A’nuhunla,” he drawled, his voice low. (“No. But funny.”)
Pulling back from one another, you huffed out a chuckle as you began to circle each other in assessment, waiting for the other to make the next move. “Give it to me in Basic, Mando.” Disengaging your saber, you stopped dead in your tracks, arms dangling limply by your sides. “I’m too tired to fight and translate at the same time.”
“Gar Jetii’kad,” Din pointed to the now bladeless hilt in your hand. “Nau’ur kad.” (“Your lightsaber.”) (“Light up a saber.”)
“Din-”
But he didn’t let you finish, his hands tightening around his spear as his weight lowered, ready to charge. “Kad’au, Jetii.” (“Lightsaber, Jedi.”)
“Ne'johaa,” you mumbled, igniting the blade and lowering yourself into a ready stance to match. (“Shut up.”)
Once you were set, you stood straight up again, smiling softly when Din let his lowered weight relax as well in aggravation, his modulator hissing in annoyance. “This was just supposed to be for fun. Some training, maybe. Not-”
“Kad,” he almost barked, before launching at you. (“Saber.”)
“Mir’sheb,” you hissed through gritted teeth as you blocked an overhead blow from his spear, squinting your eyes as sparks flew from the impact. (“Smartass.”)
He took a minuscule step closer, pressing his weight into you and making you bend back slightly. His voice was low and mocking, but strained to show his struggle against your strength as you continued to push back. “Only for you.”
With a shout, you pushed him off of you with a last reserve of strength.
“That’s it. That’s it. I’m done.” You held your hands up by your head. “No more.” Twirling your saber as you stretched your wrist, you tilted your head from side to side. “You’ve got some unresolved issues with only using the stun back there at the hideout or something,” gesturing to him with a swooping hand gesture, you ignored his snort and slight shift of weight, “but I’m done with all your nonsense.” Turning away you took a deep breath and disengaged your saber, mumbling under your breath, “Ni copaani buy'ce gal.” (“I want a bucket of booze.”)
The next thing you knew you were flat on your back, sand flying out around you as the Mandalorian stood over you, flipping his spear back to its resting position with a flourish. All you could process as you blinked up at the cloudless sky was heat, grit, and what?
“I think that means I win…. Manda Jetii.” (The state of being Mandalorian in mind, body and spirit.)
Eyes flying to his visor, you had to squint at the glare of the suns off the brilliant metal. You could only blink up at him, taking his hand when he offered it and helped you up. After a shared moment of simply staring at one another, he turned to survey the hangar, repeating your words from earlier. “Ni copaani buy'ce gal.”
It was at that point you noticed Peli’s face.
Her very, very, very distraught face.
Following her line of sight, your eyes went wide as you took in the Crest over your shoulder. Sparks flew, singe marks lined the hull. Did I do that?
A poor little astromech Peli had just acquired was trying to tune up something near the ramp of the ship, and Din, once he turned to survey the damage for himself, spying an unfamiliar droid linking into his ship, let his spear loose without a second thought.
If you hadn't had the mind to divert it midair with the Force right before impact, the droid would be a pile of steaming wires right now instead of a trembling pile of bolts.
The screech of terror it let out as the spear made impact right above its head made you want to laugh, but you stifled it into your hand, turning a disapproving glare on Din when he asked why you did that.
“We don’t murder innocent droids.”
“No droid is innocent,” he grumbled, looking over at the scrappy little astro unit.
“They are until proven guilty.”
“I don’t need any proof,” Din mumbled. “Have all the proof I need.”
“You have nothing.”
Before he could say anything else, the angry mech was rolling toward the bounty hunter with an electrified arm ready to zap him, but you held it at bay with the Force. You also held Din back, snorting when he turned a look on you.
“No.”
Peli somehow materialized beside you, everything about her bewildered and distraught. You let the two arguing tin cans go as you turned your attention to your friend, the final zap from the droid to Din’s thigh before it rolled off not going unnoticed.
Pointing every which way with each new statement, Peli began to protest. “I was- They were- You just-” Her hands slapped down to her sides, her face pulled determinedly. “That’s not fair!”
She turned to her pit droid crew. “Why do I get all the defective droids in this town?” They began to prattle but she cut them off. “You guys couldn’t fix the wrong side of a bantha.”
Reaching out with your mind, a twitch of your foot sideways ever so slightly, and one of the compartments at the back of the Crest flew off, the wiring inside plopping out like the ship had drunk too much spotchka the night before and now had something to prove.
“It’s alright, Peli. It wasn’t all you.”
“You bet your beskar it wasn’t!” She turned a look on Din. “Don’t think I didn’t notice that massive spear sticking out of the side of my ship.”
Din had the decency to look sheepish, turning his gaze to stare across the hangar, hands on his hips.
“Now I’ll have to track down the Jawas to find enough ancient parts to fix this hunk of junk.” She smacked the hull closest to her with her palm, her eyes fluttering shut as a panel fell off to her right with a clatter.
Leveling her gaze on you, a shudder ran down your spine as Peli stared at you in silence. Finally she spoke again. “You. You’re going to help.”
“And you,” she pointed at Din. He pointed at himself in question and she nodded, maintaining the accusing jab of her index. “Yes, you. Mandalorian.” Din tilted his head curiously. “You are going to go to the cantina to look for a job to pay for all of…. this!”
Peli gestured wildly to the sparking Crest behind her.
You winced at the singe marks left behind by your saber, beside the puncture mark from the spear as it had let loose from his hands and flown across the hangar. Its beskar body still stood proudly from the hull, glinting in the afternoon sun.
Reaching up high above her head, Peli jerked it from the body of the ship with a grating screech of metal on metal. Green goo began to shoot from the new opening, coating the sand of the hangar around her feet in several inches in a matter of seconds.
She looked down at it before bringing menacing eyes up to glare at Din.
“I’ll be at the cantina,” he mumbled, turning to leave without anymore fuss.
“I’ll…. Be here, I guess,” you mumbled, catching Peli’s death stare out of the corner of your eye. “Pick me up some of those blue cookies on your way back?”
“Really?” Din stopped, cocking his head at you.
“Yeah!” You shot back. “The kid isn’t here, so I don’t have to share them.”
“Who says I don’t want some?”
You scoffed. “Experience.” Crossing your arms, you stared at him. “Besides, who says I’m sharing regardless?”
Din took a step back toward you, his voice lowering playfully. “I could make you….”
“Cantina!” Peli hissed.
You’d never seen Din move so quickly.
Xxx
Peli had dragged you out to the large rolling fortress of the Jawas after she had given her pit droid crew a stern talking to.
You couldn’t make eye contact with them as you stood just behind her and listened to her admonishments. Their judgmental stares from their single ocular lenses could be felt even across the hangar.
Looking over the wares, you were just glad Din wasn’t here. Jawas would be dropping like flies if he were. He really had a problem.
Bringing your scarf up to cover your face, wrapping it around your head to keep it secure and protect you just a layer more from the suns beating down and sand blowing in the rough winds, you squinted at an old astromech tucked away in the back near the ramp.
“What about that one?” You asked, pointing to it.
The little hooded figure helping you turned, exclaiming something when he realized what you were asking about, then began talking a mile a minute and gesturing even faster.
Holding up your hands, you cut in, “Yeah, yeah, hold on little guy,” your new Jawa friend grunted at the name as you turned to call for help. “Peli! Get over here!” Waving your hand to gesture her over, you hoped it’d help her find you a bit faster.
You saw her curls before you saw her, turning your way and quickly weaving through the junk as her grumbling got closer and closer, but the exact words were never quite clear enough to understand. “What?” She finally asked in exasperation when she was about ten feet away, a power coupling in one hand and…. Something else in the other, you didn’t know what it was, but it had a lot of exposed wires and reminded you of an eyeball on a stick.
Pointing to your little robed shadow, you smiled at her. “Translate. Please.”
With a roll of her eyes, she focused on your small companion, nodding as he went along. “He says you want that R2 unit.” She turned her focus back to you, hands on her hips, eye on a stick still tightly grasped in one hand, “Any particular reason? I have plenty of good droids back at the hangar….” R5 started tweeting and blipping in concern, making her roll her whole head over to look at the droid on her left. “Oh, keep your dome on. I didn’t mean you.” She gestured to the droid with the eye-stick lazily before her eyes cut over to you. “Unless….” R5 let out a mighty whoop before rolling away.
Chirping and blooping from the R2 unit pulled your attention back to the matter at hand, watching in amusement as it rocked from side to side quickly on two of its three legs. Its shiny dome twisted back and forth as it let out shrill beeps and whistles, a lone raspberry cutting off the tirade before it focused on a Jawa coming up to stand beside it.
As the tiny cloaked figure reached out to adjust the restraining bolt on its front, one of the droid’s front compartments sprung open in the blink of an eye, a surge of electricity arcing through the air and making the Jawa scream. The little scrapper jumped back, stumbling as its cloak began to smoke, strings of Jawaese getting lost in the wind as the tiny thief marched back over to the droid and swiftly kicked it near its treads.
“Stop!” You ran over, holding up your hands to try and intervene, turning to Peli with a pleading look on your face.
She tossed the junk in her hands onto the ground, doing a double take for the eye on a stick before deciding against it and made her way over to you, thrusting the odd part into your chest as she passed by. With a roll of your eyes, you tucked it into the bag of parts to make its way back to the hangar that was slung across your shoulders.
The bag was over half full, and getting heavier by the minute, but you’d yet to see anything resembling a part you recognized go into the satchel. At this point you think ninety five percent of what she had picked up wasn’t even for the Crest, she was just exacting her revenge on Din. And you had no problem with that.
Peli tilted her head as she listened to the Jawa go on a tirade. Eyes flickering between the tiny robe with eyes and the droid, she finally looked back over her shoulder at you. “He said this droid is just a problem. It’s memory hasn’t been wiped in too long, so it’s developed an…. Ah, well,” she quirked her eyebrows, her hands landing on her hips as she studied the droid. “A strong personality.”
The R2 unit blooped before zapping the Jawa again, a warbling whistle following after in what almost sounded like a taunt for more.
“Stop,” you said again, taking another step toward the feisty astromech. It was very hard to not smile as you studied the round dome, its light blinking red and white at you rapidly as it scanned you up and down, finding something it trusted enough to calm down. It didn’t zap a third time, but it kept the utility equipped, sending a surge down the line when the Jawa got too close again as a warning.
It reminded you of Din. It even kind of looked like him. You had to really try to contain the smile as you thought of his reaction if you said that out loud.
The head tilt.
The finger.
“Later.”
The body was the typical white of most R2 units, though obviously worn and aged, some pockets of rust peeking through here and there along the edge, along with carbon scoring like it’d seen some firefights. With a darker silver dome, close to the color of your vambraces, you could tell it had received repairs along the line, the contrasting metals denoting different eras in its lifetime.
The bands along its body that contained the attachments and along the sides of its legs were a warm coppery color, while the panels along its head were a dark gunmetal gray that reminded you of the Crest.
Altogether it was a patchwork of parts, but it made something beautiful to you. Like when the suns hit the sand just right and caused a reflection in the distance. This droid was a mirage, a shadow.
“What’s wrong with it?” You interrupted the Jawa currently on another tirade that made Peli look like she was struggling to keep up. Getting down on one knee, still a good distance from the droid, you stared into its lense as it studied you once again.
Your friend turned to face you more fully. “What do you mean, they just told you. It hasn’t-”
���No, why hasn’t it moved?”
Peli asked the question, turning to look at the droid as she listened to the answer, its lense now turned on her.
“He said the tread on the right foot is broken. They have it out here because someone is coming to pick it up to wipe the memory. Its-”
“Not anymore,” you said quietly. “It’s coming with me.” Getting to your feet, you began to walk away, stopping when several Jawa voices began to follow after you, each more insistent than the other. You looked at Peli, brow raised in question.
“They say you can’t do that. It’s already a done deal. Now they’re asking if you want any of the other droids, they have an-”
You turned, looking at the gathering of red glowing eyes blinking up at you expectantly. Keeping your voice even, you made eye contact with each pair as you spoke. “You will release the droid into my care.”
A string of Jawaese was mumbled back to you, which you assumed was just them repeating your words, so you went on.
“Remove the restraining bolt, load it in the speeder, and let us go on our way.”
As they mumbled again, they broke off into groups to do what you said.
Tapping the leader on the shoulder, you held firmly when he turned to look at you. “And it won’t cost anything.”
He nodded before going to join the others.
“How did you….” Peli’s voice dripped with amazement. “Can you-”
“No.”
“You didn’t let me-”
“No, Peli.”
“Fine,” she huffed, crossing her arms and facing the Jawas as they loaded the droid who whistled happily while they worked. “I’m just saying-”
She stopped when you slowly turned to look at her, brow arched.
“Yeah, no, forget about it. Not important.”
Xxx
As you unloaded the droid at the hangar, once it was down on the ground, you knelt down slowly to inspect its injured foot.
“I’m just going to tilt you a little bit to get a better look, okay?”
The pit droids began lowering some type of harness down to help you, but the droid began to rock back and forth, protesting loudly as its dome swung back and forth.
“Okay, okay,” you held up your hands placatingly, gesturing for the other droids to stop. “No lifts. I’ll do it myself, but you’ve got to trust me. It’ll feel a little strange, but you’re completely safe, I promise. Alright?”
The droid bleeped in agreement after a moment of hesitation, and without further hassle, you nudged it slowly onto its side, floating at the proper angle, held just right by an unseen force. As it moved into the proper placement, the R2 unit blooped an amazed sound.
After poking at the tread for a moment, you wrinkled your brows. “This isn’t broken. What did they mea-”
You were cut short when the tread on the other foot whirred to life where it still rested on the ground, spitting sand in your face in a rapid fire. As you drew back quickly, swatting at the sting settling into your eyes, you just caught a glimpse through your squint of the droid falling the rest of the way to the ground with a screech, your concentration broken.
Before you could really react properly, the R2 unit had popped upright, all manner of Binary curses and colorful language beeping and whistling as it whipped out the zapper it had used earlier on the Jawa, sending a warning jolt down the spine while rotating in a circle to keep all the advancing droids and Peli at bay.
Then it started to lift off with some sort of propulsion, a victorious squeal echoing off the hangar walls that was all too soon followed by the sound of sputtering exhaust. Its lense pointed down, watching it all unfold, a quiver of fear warbled out of its voice box. The flames keeping it afloat flickered then died, sending it hurtling to the ground with a scream.
You were just able to stick out a hand, focusing enough to catch it inches from the ground. “I got you!” As you lowered it the last few millimeters back onto the sand, you let out a heavy sigh, relaxing into the warm earth beneath you with a quietly muttered, “I got you.”
“Well, that was a first,” Peli announced loudly, amused, as the R2 unit looked at you, a spurt of oil suddenly spewing onto the ground as it moaned in distress.
“It’s about right on track for me, honestly,” you huffed, laughing as you got back to your feet.
The droid quaked as you got closer, worried coos softly filling the hangar.
“Hey, it’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you,” you spoke softly, coming back onto your knees a few feet from the R2 unit. “That was actually kind of impressive.” You smirked, watching as the trembling stopped. The droid was silent and you smiled a bit broader. “I would expect nothing less, honestly. It’s what I would do in your situation. Hell, I have done it a few times….” The droid whistled softly in amusement.
You laughed, feeling victorious when it wheeled a bit closer to you.
“I have, too. I live a very extraordinary life, my friend.”
A questioning bloop.
“Yes, I said ‘friend’. I consider you that, not anything less.”
A series of beeps and whistles, the red light blinking much more slowly now.
“I do speak Binary. Very observant.”
A raspberry.
You laughed, and it was followed by the closest sound a droid can make to the sound, a series of trills.
“Can we start over?”
The droid wheeled closer, bumping its front foot into your knee gently before wheeling back slightly as if to say, ‘go on’.
You introduced yourself, reaching a hand out toward the droid. A panel sprung open on its front, the zapper coming out without a charge, making you arch a brow at the unit as it tittered playfully. The panel closed before another opened, and a small three pronged metal hand extended, closing around two of your fingers and shaking them in jerky movements as it beeped and blooped away.
“R2-B4?” The droid whistled in confirmation, releasing your fingers and closing the panel. “Can I just call you Bee?” A beep that sounded like ‘yes’ and also meant ‘yes’ in Binary chirped happily, filling the hangar. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Bee. How about we get you tuned up, into a nice hot oil bath, run a few diagnostics to make sure you’re running as optimally as you can be, then starting tomorrow we can-”
Some angry bloops and bleeps filled the air, while she rocked back and forth on her feet.
“No, no, no! No memory wipe! That’s not what I meant! I wouldn’t do that to you.” She stopped rocking, but her lense scanned you up and down rapidly, her light flashing between red and white faster than you had seen yet. “You don’t know me yet, so I don’t blame you. But I’m not going to do that to you. That won’t happen so long as you are here. With me. With us. That makes you you. I don’t want just a droid, I want you, Bee.”
Reaching out your hand, you rested it lightly on her dome and an affectionate beep came out quietly.
“I just meant to make sure you’re running as optimally as you can be. You deserve it, friend.”
It was at this point Din came walking back into the hangar. He stopped short when he saw the new astromech snuggled up so closely with you, the disarray of the hangar floor with the spilled oil and obvious scuffle, and Peli with her army of droids behind her and new eyeball on a stick waving around animatedly as she greeted him with a smile.
“Mando! Finally!” She walked toward him. “You will not believe the day we’ve had.”
The look Din leveled on you through his visor was nothing short of stifling. “Try me.”
Xxx
Once Din had calmed down enough to not shoot the new droid on sight, and Bee had calmed down enough to not zap the Mandalorian on sight, you sat down to explain the situation to Din as the astro unit underwent an oil bath.
“I don’t know, Man- Din.” You pulled a face at yourself as he chuckled at the slip up. “It just felt like I was supposed to, and she….” You looked straight into his visor. “The voices stopped when I saw her. Everything did. I don’t know.” Looking down to the table top to your right, you began to fiddle your fingers aimlessly. “I swear you won’t have to-”
“Okay.”
“Now don’t just- what?” You shook your head to dislodge any sand that may be plugging your ears and causing you to mishear because you could have sworn he said…. “Okay? ….Okay? Did you just say okay?”
Din laughed softly. “Yes.” He nodded. “Fine. I trust you.”
Narrowing your eyes, you leaned forward onto your knees, getting closer to him and peering up with scrutiny for an agonizing minute. “What did you do?”
Leaning back in his chair with a sigh, he rested his hand on his thigh. “Got you a present.” His head tilted to the side as you sat up a bit straighter. “Still gonna look at me like that?”
Eyes going wide, you sat back and matched his posture.
“That’s what I thought,” he said with a snort. “I met up with Boba last night, as you know, and after going to the cantina, he caught up to me with the finished product.”
Din reached over and pulled a tarp off a crate to his right, how you’d missed it you had no idea, especially since the item before your eyes still sang with the same signature as his armor had.
A jetpack.
Raw beskar and durasteel glinted under the twin suns, polished to perfection and ready to earn their first scuff marks.
“Din…. No.” You looked at him in disbelief. “You didn’t.”
Reaching for the pack, he groaned slightly with the effort, sighing once it sat in his lap. “I couldn’t look at you in that horribly fitting armor one more time, and it was just taking up space on the ship.” He set the heavy gift in your lap. “Now I don’t have to lug you around anymore.”
Scoffing, you leaned in closer to him, batting your lashes. “Don’t lie, you like lugging me around.”
He tossed his head side to side. “It has its perks, yes, but now….” He gently nudged you back with a finger to your shoulder so you were sitting normally in your seat again. “Lift yourself, mesh’la.”
Sitting up straight as you held the jetpack in your lap, you traced its curves with your hand. “I don’t know whether to be offended or say thank you.”
Meeting the gaze of his visor through your lashes, he simply nodded.
“That’s all I needed to hear. Now, let’s get you fitted and flying - but first, I have to sync them with your vambraces, or else you might-”
“Let me guess,” you sighed, relaxing back into your chair with a thump. “Or else I might blow something up?” Din nodded once in confirmation, and you mirrored him. “Some things never change.”
“And some things change all the time….”
“Well that was cryptic.”
“Fennec found a contact for me that might know where the Armorer is. Where the covert moved to.”
Your eyes went wide and you froze, halfway to attaching the jetpack between your shoulder blades. “Excuse me, what?”
“It’s a job, but I head there in two rotations-”
Your face fell flat, along with your tone. “Excuse me, what?”
“Are you broken?” You arched a brow in question at him. “You haven’t moved since I mentioned the Armorer and you’re repeating yourself.”
With a huff of disbelief, you let the jetpack to the ground beside you with a gentle thud, and faced him once again. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe it’s because you’re insane?!”
“Excuse me, what?”
“See?” You gestured to him. “A perfectly valid reaction.” Din huffed, his head tilting to the side in annoyance as you went on. “First off I was excited for you, but then you go and say something crazy like you’re going alone?”
“Well I just assumed….”
“Go on,” you deadpanned, smiling slightly when he trailed off, swallowing roughly.
When he never did, you sighed heavily and forged on for the both of you. “Since I’m your wife,” you began, eyes cast down to the sand, ignoring the way he tossed his head back with a groan, “I think it’s only right I go with you.” You looked up to meet his visor. “Not to mention I continue to save your skin daily.”
“One time. I….” He held up one finger. “That was. I let that slip one time with Peli and it was an accident.” He huffed, staring at you for a long moment. “You're never going to let me forget that are you?”
You grinned. “No.”
Xxx
The two of you landed at the front of Peli’s hangar when you saw an unknown droid approaching in the street from where you were training in the air.
“Oh! Pardon me!” The courier droid raised its hands up in surrender.
Reaching out, you lowered Din’s blaster. “You have a problem,” you mumbled. “You need to ask questions first, shoot later.”
Din grunted. “That’s not how I work.”
“Well, maybe you need to upgrade your circuitry, Tin Can.”
Both Din and the courier looked at you.
“Beg your pardon, miss, but that is a Mandalorian, not a droi-”
You couldn’t help your snort of laughter. “What’s the message?”
“Oh. Yes.” The droid reached into a bag fastened to its hip. “You have a holo from a Greef Karga? It’s marked sensitive/eyes only. I suggest you watch it someplace private.” Leaning around to look behind you into the vacant hangar, the only other soul being R5 rolling past with an offensive blip, the droid then looked back at the two of you. “Or just stay here.”
Taking the device from the droid with a smile, you were surprised when it didn’t just leave.
It reached back into the satchel and procured another device. A puck. And handed it to Din.
“What’s this?” The Mandalorian asked dryly, looking at the small device in the droid's hand as if it were the most confusing puzzle in the galaxy.
“Courtesy of Greef Karga…. once again.” When Din made no effort to move, the droid looked between the two of you. “They go together. I assume they offer some explanation. Otherwise, I have nothing to tell you about them.”
Din sighed, taking the puck and shutting the hangar door before the droid could say another word.
A muffled, “Oh. Well, good day, then!” Came through before the retreat of mechanical footsteps was heard.
“That was rude!” You mumbled, turning to go deeper into the hangar, but freezing when you saw the info spinning above the puck in Din’s hand.
No.
No it couldn’t be.
Quickly activating the comm, you let Karga explain what you already feared.
“If you’re playing this message, you’ve already opened the puck. Yes. I know. I was just as shocked, too.”
There, in letters as big as day was your name.
“It was issued by the head of some small town crime group on Tatooine. Said you decimated their numbers yesterday?”
Din grunted. “Nobody died. What do they mean decimated?”
“I’m not issuing the puck to anyone, but be on the lookout. It could make things…. Difficult.”
The comm went dead, and all you could do was stare at the puck in Din’s hand, the info being presented to you but truly not being absorbed as all you could do was watch and blink.
The puck displayed your picture, slowly spinning with all your details next to it.
Name: Eesra Kesyk
Last known location: Tatooine
Known associates: Din Djarin, Boba Fett, Fennec Shand, Peli Motto, Sola Kei, Cara Dune, Greef Karga, Mythrol, Bo Katan Kryze, Ahsoka Tano, Luke Skywalker
Karga, Mythrol, Bo Katan, Luke, Ahsoka? For some small time group on Tatooine, they had really gone out of their way to find info on you….
Your gut sank.
Unless….
You shook your head. There’s no way this went beyond a small town crime lord on a backwater planet. No way.
Focusing back in on the list, you squinted to read the fine print it was in to have everything fit on the little readout.
The rest was just details, date of birth, previous work…. reason for bounty.
“Are they serious?”
Unlawful use of star cruiser in restricted airspace, failure to comply with law enforcement, breaking and entering, damage to public property, battery and assault….
Din thought this was all very funny. He was practically giggling by now, snorts of laughter trickling out of his modulator as he stood to your right.
He’d tried to stop under your glare, he really did, but it just wasn’t possible, little snickers escaping here and there.
“Who knew I married such a horrible person?”
He did this from time to time. Brought up his little misstep with Peli where he’d called you his wife, leaning fully into the absurdity and embracing the silliness you often tried to pelt at him mercilessly by saying it himself first.
Rolling your eyes, but unable to contain the small grin climbing up your face, you looked back at the puck and crossed your arms firmly over your chest. “You knew what you were getting yourself into, Tin Can.” Tilting your head at the readout, you pursed your lips. “And we’re not actually married, no matter what you said to Peli. You’re not ready for all of this.” Making a swooping gesture to yourself, you ignored his mocking snort of amusement.
You stared at the list for another loaded minute of silence before going on. “Besides, half of these aren’t even true!” Gesturing to the list with one hand, you turned to look up at his visor, brows raised. “Unlawful use of starcruiser…. When did we even leave the planet?”
He was still chuckling warmly as he turned to you. “Did I? Know what I was getting into, I mean? I don’t know about that, mesh’la.” His chuckle grew louder as your face fell into unamusement. “And are you sure? Only half?”
Turning to face him fully, you raised one hand to wag a finger in his face teasingly. “Hey, you’re the one that keeps coming back.”
Pulling you into his arms, he hummed contentedly. “And I always will come back to you.”
Copying his hum of satisfaction, you reached up and grabbed his cowl like always, tucking your face into the fabric and taking a deep breath before turning to the side to look at the holo once again with a sigh.
“They got my name wrong, though.”
“Did they?”
“Mmm-hmm.” Tucking your face into the crook of his neck, you smiled. “Eesra Djarin of Clan Mudhorn…. That’s so much better, don’t you think?”
He groaned softly. “I-”
Bleep!
Din grunted in mild annoyance as Bee rolled up the ramp, stopping beside the two of you and trilling animatedly. “Not now, Scrap.”
Bee let out as close to a matching grunt of displeasure a droid could make, flipped out the electrified arm on her front, and waved it at Din in warning.
“See? This is why I don’t like droids,” Din grumbled.
Rolling forward bit by bit, backtracking just slightly in between, she pried her way into the small amount of space between the two of you, making you step back just slightly to make room.
“Well, hello there,” you mused quietly to the metallic dome whose lense was looking up at you, smiling back at the tiny bloop in greeting. “May I help you?”
She babbled away in Binary animatedly, charged hand still extended toward Din in warning as she rolled ever so slightly closer towards you, tilting forward just a bit and causing Din to grunt as the forward motion pushed the bottom of her housing into his shin guards with a ping.
“I’m sure R5 didn’t say all that. What are you getting at?”
More beeps and whistles, this time containing squeals as her lense switched between red and white rapidly, almost faster than her sounds, as she animatedly continued her story.
“Wow,” you finally said when the droid stopped, staring at you expectantly.
“What did she say?” Din tilted his head at you.
“No idea.” You looked up into his visor. “All I caught was something something BD said and then Peli, Jawas….”
Both of you started to chuckle softly, Bee looking between you as she rotated her dome back and forth, a bloop of disappointment before a raspberry of annoyance, and you couldn’t shake the growing grin on your face if you wanted to.
After a moment she reached out just a little further and zapped Din with the electrified arm, tittering a laugh as she rolled away at speed as Din chased after her after crying out in pain. “Ow! Get back here, you rolling scrap heap!”
Crossing your arms, you leaned against the opening of the ramp to the Crest, and watched the scene unfold in Peli’s hangar.
Droids, a mechanic, and a Mandalorian all running in circles after a goal you weren’t quite sure of. All that was clear was Din was losing.
You were home, with the people you loved.
Looking to the side, you saw the bunk of the Crest open, the child’s hammock still strung across the top. The corners of your mouth pulled slightly down.
Well, almost everyone.
You were a clan of three.
No, it was more than that.
You were also a family.
And someday, you’d all be back together again.
Someday soon.
You’d find a way to bring it all back to you.
Adjusting your weight slightly, you bumped something on your vambraces in the process causing the jetpack between your shoulder blades beginning to whir with an increasing hum. Flames began to sputter at its base with a growing roar, sending a wall of heat down the backs of your thighs as it prepared to lift you into the skies once again.
“Din?” You called, quietly at first, staring over your shoulder at the new death trap strapped to your spine, then more urgently, “Din!”
He was already jogging up the ramp toward you, his posture easy and relaxed. “Calm down.”
A quick glance behind him showed an amused Peli and her circus of droids, all of them tittering in amusement. Bee rocked back and forth in glee at the foot of the ramp before rolling back to the others.
“Calm down?” You repeated in bewilderment, watching him disengage the jetpack from your vambrace with a single button push, as if it was the easiest thing in the world.
“Calm down?!” He began to chuckle, his hand skimming up the inside of your forearm to lightly grab your elbow and push you further into the ship as you went on. “I was almost a flying projectile and you-”
You hadn’t noticed the way he’d nudged you backwards completely out of sight of the rest of the hangar until your spine sealed along the bulkhead by the weapons locker, the lights of the cargo hold going to half brightness with a deft swipe of his hand over a control pad to your left.
Half, but still plenty bright to see.
“Din?”
Taking in your new surroundings, you looked back up to see him taking his gloves off and tucking them in his belt. His helmet came next, the quiet hiss of the mechanism causing you to screw your eyes shut. The familiar sound of beskar thunking onto the metal floor of the Crest made them close even tighter.
Din chuckled softly, the unmodulated sound tickling your face with his warm breath. “Open your eyes, mesh’la.”
“Oh, yeah.” Slowly you blinked your eyes open, looking up to see warm brown eyes, and the sweetest smile waiting to meet you. “I still forget.”
Winding your hands up into the curls at the base of his head, you smirked when he let out a contented sigh through his nose.
After a moment of simply holding the other’s gaze, you muttered quietly, “Hello, brown eyes.”
Din was on you in an instant, his groan of annoyance muffled against your lips as you laughed softly into the kiss.
“You always have to ruin it,” he mumbled, crowding you further into the wall, his bare hands coming to cradle your face and making your eyes slip shut at the contact. “Nu-uh. Open your eyes, mesh’la.”
Fluttering them open, you tried very hard to keep them that way. “Sorry. It’s not every day a Mandalorian is half naked in front of me. I’ll try harder.”
“Half naked?” He tilted his head, the tip of his nose bumping against yours, one brow arching up in question.
“For you, a helmet and gloves is the equivalent of a-”
Din was back on you again, this time growling in mock frustration against your lips as you laughed a bit louder. The upturn of his lips gave his amusement away, though.
Pulling apart just enough that only your foreheads rested against one another, the two of you held that moment together for quite a while. Simply breathing the other in, and existing in this quiet moment before the storm.
Before you left to find more Mandalorians.
More Mandalorians.
Now that was going to be interesting.
After a moment, you rolled your head to the side slightly and peeked up through your lashes to find his eyes closed.
You opened your mouth to speak, only for you both to speak in tandem, “Open your eyes.”
“I will if you will,” you were quick to retort.
Warm brown eyes met yours once again as the setting suns’ light poured in through the open ramp somewhere behind him, painting the cargo hold of the Crest in vibrant shades of gold, orange and red.
Din smiled softly, pressing his forehead further into yours, using his hands at your cheeks to maneuver your head back a bit and into a better angle for him to lean his forehead into. “Only for you.” His fingers began to move up and thread into your hair. “Always for you.” It was hard to tell where he stopped and you began. “Gar cuyi ner aliit. Ni kar'tayli darasuum gar. Gar cuyi ner mir'sheb bal gar utreekov kar'tayli darasuum gar, cyar’ika.” He pressed his forehead even further into yours, his lips ghosting over your own with each word. (“You are my family. I love you. You are my smartass, and your idiot loves you, darling.”)
“Gar cuyi ner yaim. Ner yaim'ol. Ner yaim'la.” The light of the day was fading, much the same as the two of you were melding into one another, practically becoming one being, all his hard edges blurring where your soft lines began. The Crest began to fill with long shadows as the lights in Peli’s hangar kicked on, filling the cargo hold with just enough extra light to see. (“You are my home. My homecoming. My comfortable.”)
Reaching up, you cupped his face in your hand, and he melted into it, his eyes fluttering shut as he leaned into your palm, his voice a low rumble. “Ni ratiin yaimpar gar.” (“I always return to you.”)
In the quiet moment, you rubbed your thumb over his cheek bone slowly back and forth before finally whispering with a smile, “Open your eyes.”
Once he was looking at you once again, you pulled your head back just a bit and tilted it to the side. “So, where are we going to find the covert?”
He went stiff. “We?”
You sighed, laying your head on his pauldron. “It’s been how long, and you still haven’t learned that I’m always going to come with you?”
Din looked at you with a matching sigh. He tilted his head at you, his weight shifted to one leg, his hands on your waist moving you along with him. “You sometimes stay here when I go out on a job and help Peli work on the ship. It’s almost done after what Gideon tried to do- er, it was until today.”
“Exactly. So after this last massacre, I don’t think Peli wants to see my face around here anymore,” you laughed, making him shake his head and let out a huff of laughter. “I think Boba would give us a lift to wherever.”
“And then how do we get back?”
You smiled as you closed the small space between you, speaking softer as the situation began to feel more delicate. “We’ll figure it out.”
“Why are your ideas usually half baked or somehow involve fire?”
You closed the distance between you yet again, wrapping your arms around his neck tightly, and pressing your forehead into his. “And yet they always work….”
“You get lucky sometimes,” he groused half heartedly before he returned the gesture, a warm ungloved hand spread across your back, the other moving up to the back of your head to tuck your face securely into the crook of his neck.
You weren’t about to pull away as he held you there gently. Turning your face towards him where it rested on his shoulder, your nose brushed against his neck, and his grip grew tighter. Glancing up towards his face, you thought back to a time in the bar when this all started when all you could see before the helmet obstructed your view was a small sliver of skin that bobbed as he swallowed roughly.
Now you had an unobstructed view….
….Of unruly dark curls long overdue for a trim….
….Golden skin dusted with a light facial hair that had the slightest hint of grays peppered in….
….Kind, warm brown eyes that looked at you with so many promises….
….A nose that had definitely been broken once or twice….
….And a smile that took your breath away.
You turned your head up fully towards his face as you pulled away just enough to look at him straight on, and he turned his gaze down to meet you with a slightly playful tilt of his head like before.
“I’m just that good.” Your hands fell to rest on his chest plate. “Now let’s go find your people.”
“Let’s go find our people,” he corrected.
With a gentle nod, you pulled away slowly after a moment, turning towards the ramp with wide eyes as what just happened sunk in.
Our people.
Din walked past you, looking over his shoulder once he was on the ramp. “Are you coming?”
Our people.
Turning your head slightly to the left, you saw he had stopped, helmet back on, gloves securely fastened, and every bit the Mandalorian you had met all those years ago, only now he stood waiting for you, hand outstretched in invitation.
Mine.
You smiled, walking forward and taking his hand. “Moff Gideon couldn’t keep me away.”
Xxx
Yes, I gave her a name. Eesra Kesyk. (Ee-sruh Keh-sick) Let’s face it, Mesh’la is still what’s going to be used 99.999999% of the time, and “you” the majority of the rest. But we’re going into a part of the story with a whole lot of other new players and I wanted to have something to call the reader besides “you” and nicknames. I know this isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, and I’m sorry. But, it’s my story, and that’s what I chose to do. I have a plan, so if you’ll bear with me, thank you, and I hope we can see it through together. ❤️ Plus, Din still just calls her *sigh* or “stop it!” 99% of the time, so…. 🤭
Xxx
Tags to come!
#din x reader#din djarin x reader#din djarin fanfiction#star wars imagine#star wars reader insert#mando x reader#mando x you#mando x y/n#din x you#din x y/n#din djarin x you#din djarin x y/n#star wars x reader#star wars x you#star wars x y/n#din imagine#din djarin imagine#mando reader insert#the mandalorian#star wars#din djarin#mando#grogu#grogu x reader#the mandalorian reader insert#the mandalorian imagine#the mandalorian x reader#the mandalorian x you#the mandalorian x y/n
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TRANSLATION MASTERLIST
🍑 includes a work in progress list at the bottom
Extra info since this is going to be pinned: Heya! I'm noda, 21 living somewhere in north africa. Japanese is my 4th language while English is my 3rd, and I'm mostly self taught, so I'm still learning and improving as I go. I started this blog as a dump for various media i create (hence the occasional art or animation post) but it's slowly transforming into a translation account LOL. my main hobbies are still animation & art, but I do enjoy translation and graphic design. I started learning Japanese in summer 2015 and I try my best to improve.
[LAST UPDATE : May 18th 2024]
Game stories:
Green Bubble event story
PLAY GAME!! event story
Chameleon Chill event story
TEA Take event story
8th Anniversary story (8/8)
Link Ring Wind (40/40)
Rabbit Chats:
Yuki - La'Stiara
Yuki - Idol's Daily Life (5/5)
Yuki - Rabbitube Mini (2023 birthday)
Isumi Haruka - Rabbitube Mini (2023 birthday)
Inumaru Touma- Rabbitube Mini (2023 birthday)
Momo - Rabbitube Mini (2023 birthday)
Osaka Sougo - Rabbitube Mini (2023 birthday)
Yuki - Idol star Prince stage
Momo - Idol star Prince stage
Nikaido Yamato - Drama Collection vol.2 (Spring)
Momo - Drama Collection (Winter)
Isumi Haruka - Drama Collection (Summer)
Izumi Iori - Drama Collection (Spring)
Momo - Sugao (5/5)
RabbiTVs/interviews:
Re:vale 2D☆STAR Vol.5 interview
Re:vale Dengeki Girl's Style February 2018 interview
Re:vale B's-LOG 2018 interview
Iori, Yuki & Touma Shuffle Talk 2024 (3/3)
Yuki - 16 IDOL ALBUM (3/3)
Manga:
Re:member - Banri chapter 03
Re:member - Momo chapter 05
Re:member - Momo chapter 06
Group anniversary event "Song & Story"
Re:vale - Binary Vampire
MISCELLANEOUS (twitter threads):
Toumasou G4Y home screen dialogue DAY1
Toumasou G4Y home screen dialogue DAY2
Golden Week 2023 login messages
Part 6 chapter 1 & 2 livetweet thread
Part 6 chapter 3 & 4 livetweet thread
Part 6 chapter 5 livetweet thread
Arina Tanemura 7th anniversary comment
WORK IN PROGRESS
Momo aihake! [2/3]
Yuki Sugao [4/5]
Re:vale Fruits Lollipop Rabbitv
Re:vale Second beat! Drama CD (80% done)
New Years story LIVE OR HEAVEN (prologue & epilogue)
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Ikevil Wrapped in Wicked Romance story event route with the premium ending + epilogue for Alfons…
Unpopular opinion but I admit I loved it
The content warning is very real! If you don't like, don't read, just put it on auto if you want the blouse/event completion lol But the cw only made me more curious about him and the route did not disappoint in showing how twisted and spicy and wonderfully villainous Alfons's ability can be! Like William's ability will make you take the knife to cut your throat with your heart bursting out of your chest and your skin turned to ice. Alfons's ability, meanwhile, will have you willingly take the object in his hand and go where he leads with a smile on your face and joy in your heart.
While Alfons's ability can take away your perception of reality, I liked how he never used it to make anyone, least of all the MC, feel bad.
And I did like how unapoletically he was about what he did, especially since, in his own twisted way, he was creating this route's illusion for the MC's sake.
Some may remember way back when Ikevamp Arthur's main route dropped and I seethed over what happened in like chapter 4. Arthur's pseudo-sexual assault intended to punish and scare the MC for getting involved in a house of vampires. Ikevil's MC is an actual hostage at Crown where she needs to prove her loyalty or lose her life. Alfons could easily have fallen into a similar Arthur-like trap of treating MC like a fly caught in a spider's web, and punishing her for putting her nose in the wrong place.
But he didn't!!!
MC was traumatized from walking in on the prologue murder, and to follow Alfons for the day meant she would be forced to face even more bloodshed because that's what Crown does! But MC (and me as the reader whoops) weren't thinking about that part; we were thinking about the silly pretend lover mission part. So it was simultaneously shocking yet hilarious how quick Alfons was to enchant MC into thinking he was her lover. Like that man did not miss a beat in going from enchanting her to convincing her to getting that first kiss. I can't even be mad because he is supposed to be a villain, so go ahead and have the kiss, sir...!
The rest of the story is written so well in a surreal kind of way. I think I'm just very into this veneer of sweet and soft with the sense of danger lurking underneath. Even when we get the meat of the dubcon, it felt dark but like in a fairy/spirited away kind of dark.
And I think this route and that content warning worked because of the MC. Her observations, her internal dialogue, her internal conflicts, her anger, her desire--they held the spotlight even while Alfons led most of the way.
The question now is which event route to pick next? I've completed two premium routes (Alfons and Ellis) and I should be able to do one more route (I've estimated four premium routes are just out of reach at around 43.7k unless I want to spend). I'm not that interested in Victor or Harrison, tbh (I'd love to hear from people that favor them!) so at the moment I'm inclined to go for Ellis's bitter end (or even Alfons's bitter end). Are the bitter ends darker? Anyone have any recommendations?
As a side note for main routes, I've put William on hiatus at chapter 18 and switched to Liam. That Liam performs a particular play surprised me and made me super happy, because that play is one of my favorites, so a great start! His route has some serious content warnings so let's go...!
#my ikevil#ikemen villains#wrapped in wicked romance story event#alfons sylvatica#when i say rambling i mean rambling
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Happy Sunday!! (Or something, there's still like 30 20 minutes left of Saturday here for me, but I've been tagged twice already and am in the mood for sharing)
Thanks for the tags @monbons and @shrekgogurt!!
I've actually got a lot done this week! Been editing my Natasha Lives AU WIP which going well! And I flip-flop between thinking my writing is actually the best thing since sliced bread and thinking that everything is awful and horrible, but the truth likely lies somewhere in the middle, and I’m happy with that. I've also figured out a title! (Or at least I think, I hate decisions, but I've changed the name of the Google docs file so it's a step in the right direction). And I've finally split the last bit into chapters and it'll be 15 chapters + a prologue & epilogue!
I’m trying so hard to not spoil anything at this point and all my favorite non-spoilery sections have been used, but I still want to share something (sharing this snippets is the only thing stopping me from posting before it's ready atp adlfkj). So here’s six seven short sentences/sections that I plucked out of context based on their starting letter. Somehow most of them ended up being dialogue. See if you can catch the ‘pattern’.
“Vampires’ll be scared of me with this.”
Agatha sighs. “Yeah, because she clenched her jaw. That’s something people do when they’re annoyed, Simon. You annoy her.”
My leg hurts. And the stupid moon is still behind the stupid clouds. What’s the point of surviving a coffin if you can’t see the moon?
“Palm up,” she said gently, guiding my hand with her own. She traced the lines of my fingers. “You’ve got fire mage’s hands, Basilton.”
“I’m washing up and going to bed,” Snow gruffed, grabbing his clothes with his uninjured hand. “Try not to drain me while I sleep.”
“Rat hands,” he says as an explanation, but he doesn’t meet my eyes.
“Everyone’s eating out of Natasha’s hand, but we’ll prove them wrong.”
Let me know which one speaks to you. My personal favorite is number 6 because I think it’s kind of silly without context. (Also I just need you guys to know that the fact that some are past tense and some present is on purpose, and I'm not just flip-flopping tenses😅)
Tags and such:
@you-remind-me-of-the-babe @facewithoutheart @run-for-chamo-miles (I haven't had any time to watch more YR, I should have just binged it all spring break 😭) @raenestee @artsyunderstudy @onepintobean @prettygoododds @noblecorgi @hushed-chorus @angelsfalling16 @thewholelemon
#six sentence sunday#my writing#literally chomping at the bit to post this fic#but i want to do it justice with edits so i'm refraining#snowbaz#carry on fanfiction
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SGE Characters as Literary Things
(Not all of these are actual literary or rhetorical devices; some are just writing techniques, forms, genres, mediums, etc.)
This is a bit abstract, so I’m curious about how subjective these might be. Does anyone agree or disagree? And feel free to make additions if you think I left anything out, or request another character that isn’t here.
Hopefully this makes (intuitive?) sense. As always, I'm willing to explain my thought process behind any of the things I've listed.
Also, anyone can treat this like a “Tag Yourself” meme, if you want. Whose list do you most relate to, use, or encounter?
⸻
LANCELOT (I know—how odd that I’m starting with a minor character and not Rafal, but wait. There’s a method to my madness. Also, watch out for overlap!):
Metonymy, synecdoche (no, literally, to me, these are him.)
Zeugma
Analogy
Figures of speech
Slang, argot
Colloquialisms
Idioms
TEDROS:
Simile
Metaphor
Rhyming couplets
Rhyme schemes
Sonnets
Commercial fiction
Coming-of-age genre
Line enjambment
Overuse of commas
Cadence, prose speech
Waxing poetic, verse (not prose)
Alliteration
Kinesthetic imagery
Phallic imagery/sword sexual innuendos (sorry)
The chivalric romance genre
AGATHA:
Anaphora, repetition
Semicolon, periods
Line breaks
Terse, dry prose
Semantics (not syntax)
Elegy
Resonance
Consonance, alliteration
Pseudonym
Narrative parallels
Realism
Satire
SOPHIE:
Sophistry (yes, there is a word for it!)
Imagery
Italics, emphasis
Em dash
Aphrodisiac imagery
Unreliable narrator, bias
Rashomon effect
Syntax (not semantics)
Diction
Chiasmus (think: “Fair is foul and foul is fair.”)
Rhetorical purpose
Provocation, calls to action
Voice, writing style
Rhetorical modes: pathos, logos, ethos
Metaphor
Hyperbole, exaggeration
Sensationalism, journalism
Surrealism
Verisimilitude
Egocentrism
Callbacks (but not foreshadowing or call-forwards)
Narrative parallels
Paralepsis, occultatio, apophasis, denial
Hypothetical dialogue
Monologue
JAPETH:
Sibilance
Lacuna
Villanelle (an obsessive, repetitive form of poetry)
Soliloquy
ARIC:
Sentence fragments
RHIAN (TCY):
Unreliable narrator
Setup, payoff
Chekhov’s gun
Epistolary novel
RHIAN (prequels):
Multiple povs
Perspective
Dramatic irony
Situational irony
Chiaroscuro (in imagery)
Endpapers
Frontispiece
Deckled edges
Narrative parallels
Foreshadowing
Call-forwards
Foil
Death of the author
RAFAL:
Omniscient narrator
Perspective
Surrealism
Etymology
Word families or 'linguistic ecosystems'
Latin
Verbal irony
Gallows humor
Narrative parallels
Call-forwards
Circular endings
Parallel sentences or balanced sentence structure
Narrative parallels
Foil
Juxtaposition
Authorial intent (“return of the author”)
HESTER:
Protagonist
Allusions
Gothic imagery
ANADIL:
Defamiliarization
Deuteragonist (second most important character in relation to the protagonist)
Psychic distance
Sterile prose
Forewords, prologues
Works cited pages
DOT:
Tone
Gustatory imagery
Tritagonist (third most important character in relation to the protagonist)
KIKO:
Sidekick
Falling action
Dedications, author's notes, epigraph, acknowledgements
Epitaph (Tristan)
BEATRIX:
Pacing
Rising Action
Climax
HORT:
Unrequited love
Falling resolution
Anticlimax
Malapropism
Innuendo
Asides
Brackets, parentheses
Cliché
EVELYN SADER:
Synesthetic imagery
Villanelle
Foreshadowing
AUGUST SADER:
Stream of consciousness style
Imagery
Foreshadowing
Coming-of-age genre
Elegy
Omniscience
Rhetorical questions
Time skips, non-linear narratives
Epilogues
MARIALENA:
Diabolus ex machina
Malapropism
Malaphors, mixed metaphors
Slant rhyme
Caveat
Parentheses
Footnotes
MERLIN:
Deus ex machina
Iambic pentameter
Filler words
BETTINA:
Screenwriting
Shock value
#school for good and evil#sge#sfgae#the school for good and evil#tsfgae#the camelot years#rise of the school for good and evil#rotsge#rotsfgae#fall of the school for good and evil#fotsge#fotsfgae#my post#tedros#tedros of camelot#agatha of woods beyond#sophie of woods beyond#rafal#rafal mistral#rhian#rhian mistral#rhian sader-mistral#japeth#japeth sader-mistral#japeth of foxwood#merlin of ginnymill#marialena#I can't tag everyone#there's too many
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Micah was the only rat. It was not Abigail
I hate the fan theory that Abigail was the rat all along. It's gross, misogynistic and just stupid when all the evidence is there that Micah was the rat from the get go. Also Molly was not the rat either. She was drunk and heartbroken and just wanted to hurt Dutch. It was Micah all along. Here's why.
How Micah met Dutch. Micah met Dutch at a bar in a town in the Grizzlies named Crenshaw Hills. Dutch tried to sell gold that his gang had recently stolen, but the deal went sour, leading to an altercation where Micah stepped in and saved his life. As a result, Micah was accepted into the Van der Linde gang. Despite being an experienced outlaw who was respected for his skill in combat, Micah was generally disliked within the gang; in particular, Arthur and Hosea saw him as argumentative, reckless and hot-headed, with Dutch alone taking a liking to him.
It's very clear to me from the moment he saw Dutch, that Micah saw a mark. Someone he can profit off of and manipulate. See the problem with Dutch is how much of a narcissist he is. He is so vain and so delusional that there is always this plan. Dutch is a weak vain man and Micah manipulated him and milked him for all he's worth. Micah may have been the rat, but Dutch is responsible for everything that went wrong with the gang.
The Blackwater Ferry Job. It was Micah's idea. Arthur and Hosea had a rich real estate scam going on and Dutch went with Micah's idea, because one big score was just too big for Dutch to pass up. And when the job happened. Death happened. It began with Heidi McCourt's murder. "Micah encouraged it" as John would later say. Then Pinkertons swarmed in and it turned into a clusterfuck. Mac and John gets shot to hell, Sean gets captured, Jenny and Davey die. This was the beginning of the end.
If you go to his “hermit camp” by strawberry/monto’s rest, you can find a newspaper clipping about the Blackwater heist (150,000 dollars stolen), and Dutch’s wanted poster (1000 dollar reward) which tells me that his goal was to get Dutch arrested or killed, turn him in for clemency, and then go back and get the rest of the cash, which the newspapers/treasure chest imply he’s done the latter by the epilogue.
Throughout the game Micah constantly pesters Dutch and Arthur about picking up the money they left in Blackwater. From what we learn about Blackwater in the mission where we rescue Sean, Blackwater is completely overrun with Pinkertens. It’s practically their base of operations.
After you save Sean with Trelawny, there is a piece of dialogue at camp where Arthur tells Dutch that Trelawny told him there are posters of Dutch and Hosea all over Blackwater. Thing is, Hosea wasn't a part of the ferry heist. If you read Arthur's journal, he says that he and Hosea have been running a real estate scam while the gang was camped outside of Blackwater and that it was Dutch and Micah who were planning the ferry job. He even says that he's gonna have to sit the job out because he was too busy working with Hosea, which automatically tells us that Hosea skipped the ferry heist as well. So isn't it a little suspicious that the heist was carried out by Dutch, Micah and a group (likely Bill, Javier and maybe Sean and the Callanders) but the wanted posters all over town are of Dutch and Hosea? My theory is that Micah has already been working with the Pinkertons at this point and he acted as their mole in Dutch's whole operation. Then in this case specifically, the Pinkertons and Micah pretty much set Hosea up and had him take the blame for the heist as well, despite physically not being there. It would explain why Trelawny doesn't mention posters of Micah in Blackwater, despite him being pretty recognizable and definitely involved.
Micah's getting close to the O'Driscolls. After the prologue. The next time we see Micah, he's in jail in Strawberry. We break him out and the first thing he does is kill an O'Driscoll. Maybe Micah talked because he realized he was being hanged and the O'Driscoll offered him to join Colm and Micah accepted. And his little murder rampage in Strawberry started by killing the one guy who could rat him out to Arthur… an O’Driscoll he seemed quite chummy with in their cell. Also when they rob the Stagecoach, it’s the O’Driscolls who ambush them. But I believe it goes beyond that. I believe Colm and Micah knew each other before. He offered Micah a lot of money to destroy Dutch's gang from the inside out.
Micah's camp idea in Dewberry Creek. At the start of chapter 3 before Arthur and Charles found Clemons Point. Micah told Dutch about Dewberry Creek and when we find it, it's out in the open and indefensible. So my belief was that Micah was going to have the Pinkertons ambush the gang and pick them off one by one.
The Braithewaites vs Grays. I believe Micah gave Dutch and Hosea the idea to play both sides. The plan was to play it cool and keep things quiet, but Dutch, Hosea and Micah saw get rich quick scheme and fell for the rumored Confederate Gold. Eventually things got loud. Micah most likely told the Grays and the Braithewaites. Sean was killed and Jack was taken and in the end it was all for nothing because there was no gold.
The O'Driscoll "parley." The mission where Arthur gets captured by the O’Driscolls makes me very suspicious. It’s Micah’s suggestion to have Arthur go up on that perch where they seem to know where he is. Colm planned to sell out Dutch's gang to the Pinkertons, but who's to say him and Micah didn't have a deal going on? He sells everyone out and splits the reward with Colm
I think the botched O’driscoll parley was definitely Micah’s intention. Did he want Arthur out of the way, was he hoping they’d kill Dutch, was he a double agent for the O’Driscolls or the Pinkerton’s? Who knows?
The O'Driscoll attack on Shady Bell. Before we begin. I had a thought. What if Micah took Kieran away from the camp. He promised to help him prove himself to Dutch and the rest of the gang. In reality, Micah handed Kieran over to the O'Driscolls to show what happens to traitors. Micah also gives them the location of the gang and they attacked. Isn't it a little suspicious that Micah is nowhere to be seen defending Shady Bell?
The Saint Denis Bank heist. It goes wrong fast. You can see Pinkerton agents before any shooting as you walk up to the bank at the end of chapter 4. I think some more proof of Micah being the rat is in the bank job where he is the only one not wearing black. I think him wearing white was his way of having the Pinkertons and the Law not shoot at him. And honestly I believe Micah wanted Hosea killed. If Hosea were there, he couldn't get into Dutch's head. He manipulated Dutch and just showering him in praises and making Dutch believe he's the only one on his side and that Arthur and John are snakes and that all we need is one last take.
I think the reason Milton says that Micah became a rat after chapter 5 is to make Arthur think that it was Milton and the Pinkerton’s work finding the Saint Denis bank robbery.
When Susan kills Molly, take a careful look at Micah. He looks fearful, but glad someone took the fall for him
Look where the gang is in chapter 6. In a cave. What did Arthur say at the beginning of chapter 3? "There ain't no way Dutch is gonna just hide away in a cave somewhere. Goes against everything he stands for. That'd be admitting we're nothing more than lowdown criminals." tensions high, everyone turning each other. Karen deteriorating, Dutch willing to let John hang, Dutch using Eagle Flies and the tribe for his own selfish wants and desires, Micah supplanting Cleet and Joe into the gang, Dutch not giving a damn about his first son dying a slow and painful death and Dutch leaving John behind on the heist and magically, the Pinkertons arrive when the tension finally reaches it's boiling point.
If you chose "go for the money" Arthur will tell Dutch "you let him damn us all" and you can see Micah visibly laughing
To me Micah was playing everyone. Dutch, O'Driscoll and the Pinkertons. Micah literally says he only believes in winning and losing. Living and dying. Survivor. That's all there is. Micah literally told us he was the rat from the getgo. I think his consistent habit of being involved in things that go wrong is neither a coincidence nor an accident. His goal, as I see it, is to weaken the gang so he can collect the bounties and walk free. Let’s not forget that he seems to have his own lackeys waiting in the wings in Cleet and Joe. So yes. Micah was the rat from the start and the only rat and the fact that anyone is trying so hard and desperately to believe that Abigail was the rat is so fucking stupid. Micah was a real outlaw, Racist, Backstabber, selfish and knew his actions well. So why everyone wants another member to be a rat is just ridiculously stupid.
#Red Dead Redemption#Red Dead Redemption 2#Micah Bell#Dutch Van Der Linde#Arthur Morgan#John Marston#Abigail Roberts
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"sorry if this looks toxically homoerotic to the veiwers, its intentional"
#is this anything#prologue epilogue dialogue#gothic horror romance is so good to me#love as a horrific element. a weight around your neck. steps just behind you but noone is there. an infection. a mutually corrupting force..#yes love can build and heal and grow. but i find it so enganging when love destroys. when love *rots*.#dazaku#dazai x akutagawa#fyodor x ivan#ivan x fyodor#ivan x fedyor#fyovan#akutagawa x dazai
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Some completed manhwas that I have read *may contain spoilers*
***I’ll keep editing this post***
My gently raised beast
Length: 93 chapters + 13 side stories
Art: good, one of the best ones
Genre: supernatural characters (beast), fantasy, European themed (duke, emperor, princess etc)
Recommendation: swoon worthy, good plot and backstory would recommend
Notes: initially it can get a little disinteresting as for 30 something chapters the ML and the FL are just young children however the build up is worth it
The tainted half
Length: 40 chapters
Art: absolutely beautiful
Genre: ancient Korean or Chinese themed, concubines, kings, some supernatural phenomenons, fantasy, contains sexual themes
Recommendation: definitely recommend, very unique plot different from typical historical manhwas, also it’s short and easy to follow
Notes: the ML and the antagonist are twin brothers hence they essentially have the same facial features however the hair, plot, direction and dialogue makes them distinct. The ML is also extremely swoon worthy and one the best long haired ones in a while (don’t worry even though they’re twins the antagonist is nothing in comparison)
The double agent
Length: 73 chapters + 3 side stories
Art: definitely pretty, we love platinum hair MLs
Genre: modern historical manhwa, detectives, spies etc. European themed, tragic themes, contains sexual themes
Recommendation: if you enjoy plots with tragedy some action and vague romance, would recommend
Notes: can be disturbing initially, but the conclusion from the MLs pov is beautiful, does contain toxic themes but we love little bit of that, it’s kinda like trust the process but not quite
Beware the villainess
Length: 92 chapters + 36 side stories
Art: extremely beautiful, the outfits are amazing and the ML is the best long blue haired in all of manhwas
Genre: European themed, transmigration, fantasy, supernatural (wolves?)
Recommendation: would recommend for the romance since it’s expressed little but it’s swoon worthy. May become lengthy after a stretch however there is a strong plot that is followed
Notes: one of the reasons I didn’t drop this manhwa was bc it was already completes including the side stories. The only thing motivating me to continue was to see more romance between the ML and FL and also the ML is stunning and down bad. Also there are very few mahwas about wolves or animal transformations so I kept reading this one. I really wanted some more skin ship but felt like it was too little and expressed too and late.
Love advice from the great Duke of hell
Length: 131 chapters + epilogue + afterwords
Art: wasn’t impressed at first but honestly it’s pretty neat for being sketch like and adds to the humour and aesthetic
Genre: the true definition of supernatural meets romance meets comedy. And this shit is funny. Like funny funny. I’ve had to suppress my laughter funny. The plot is unpredictable af.
Recommendation: Highly recommended for all readers. It’s just simply peak in its game. I believe all readers that like action, supernatural (devil, duke, occult etc.) romance and humour will enjoy this
Notes: the only manhwa that I wish I had been following along as the chapters were released usually I like to binge the whole manhwa but this one was honestly a ride with all the cliffhangers strategically put to make to continue scrolling. Also one of the best ending I’ve read extremely unpredictable. One of my most highly recommended manhwas even to new readers. The laughs are amazing.
Him & him & him
Length: prologue + 16 chapters + 6 side stories
Art: it’s good the MLs are cute
Genre: it’s smut, heavily sexual themes, sex partners, threesomes etc. the FL leads a typical office life, reverse harem
Recommendation: if you want some smut with a vague plot, or if you prefer short smut stories
Notes: I wanted a better ending, although it remains harem. The smut had a potential to be way more kinky (since I’ve read many more creative ones). Two of the MLs are twins and the other one is their uncle which may sound weird but with the hot art and smut it’s not.
Mythical errand
Length: prologue + 83 chapters
Art: I love it. It’s pretty distinct and unique, the blushes are too cute, and the MLs blushes are 😩
Genre: historical (Korean era), mythical, college students, mythical beings, modern setting, comedic elements and romance
Recommendation: It’s really funny and entertaining, for a person new to webtoons and mythical creatures it’s a fun experience. But if you’re looking for harem ending then I have to reveal that it’s not one.
Notes: the first season was amazing I had been obsessed, however it went downhill from then onwards. It’s alright to pick a ML from the two however the ending for the second ML was not satisfactory and it felt rushed and forced. Also the moments with the ML were not enough. In fact I had been thinking of way more creative continuations as I had been waiting for daily pass.
My dear cold blooded king
Length: chapter 0 + 161 chapters + afterword
Art: stunning, the MLs are hot
Genre: historical, some action, romance obviously, certain mature themes
Recommendation: yes, one of the og emperor trope manhwas. There’s a ML and a second ML and fortunately she ends up with whom I wanted her to. Nota damsel in distress FL
Notes: it’s been too long since I read this, one of the first manhwas I ever read. Was already concluded when I read it so was fun binging though the less interesting chapters quickly
Rewriting the villainess
Length: 62 chapters + afterword
Art: pretty, the characters are too cute, the only green(?) haired FL manhwa that I know as of now
Genre: Korean school setting, also a little medieval, body switching typa isekai I’m not sure, the FL like switches with a character of the manhwa she wrote, so it’s supernatural, romance and fantasy
Recommendation: I do recommend reading if you enjoy an average looking FL
Notes: A little different from the plot lines of other villainess manhwas but not too crazy, it’s short, although I didn’t expect how long the manhwa would actually run for as I had been following it (catched up again after skipping a few weeks). I wish they explored the other lead and his attachment to Liza.
Lullaby
Length: 48 chapters + afterword
Art: pretty, the FL could have been prettier, her hair seemed almost grey in certain panels, the FL is extremely hot, his facial features are like the typical back haired FL in manhwas (which is one reason why I began reading this) and that panel of him in the traditional Korean clothes is hawt hot (the second reason)
Genre: fantasy, demons, supernatural, ceo, employee, office, romance
Recommendation: for binge reading some fantasy, could get a little stretchy or rushed at times
Notes: you could totally just binge read the chapters where the ML and FL interact or just scroll to the outfits that I was talking about earlier.
Romantic flow
Length: 50 chapters
Art: good, very professional, the ML is really fucking hot
Genre: romance, office romance, misunderstandings, ceo, lawyer, contains sexual references
Recommendation: short, easy to follow, recommended if you want some plot with hot ML, or if you like dark straight haired FLs
Notes: I personally only read this for the kissing panels and sexual panels and otherwise just skimmed through the rest
There must be happy endings
Length: 109 chapters + 3 side stories
Art: very beautiful, almost too pretty
Genre: time rewind, married, ceo, company stuff, angst, domestic abuse(only referred)
Recommendation: classic for a time rewind manhwa or if you like pretty art or you if want to read about married leads
Notes: initially began reading this having no idea that it’s a time rewind, I just thought the that the characters were too pretty to be ignored. I especially loved the concept of the möbius strip.
Dahae’s Dream
Length: 34 chapters + authors note
Art: Stunning, the FL could be prettier, but all the MLs are stunning
Genre: (don’t worry there’s one endgame if you’re not into harem), there isn’t an actual reverse harem, she does not sleep with multiple men at once, but she does sleep with them consequently. Its obviously smut, it’s obvious but I didn’t see the genital visuals closely, you know, like the other manhwas. Is a little supernatural. Office romance, there’s also a cafe trope, director trope and celebrity trope.
Recommendation: definitely, it’s super hot and sexy and it’s short, but I feel like the story could have more, like it’s not over yet, we didn’t get enough of the endgame.
Notes: I wish the drawings were more explicit, bc the characters are hot af and it would be better if they had a more defined ending. And of course it’s too short. Like I just binged this in half a day and to immediately write down its review. Other manhwas that ill review in the future are the ones that I read like almost 2 years ago.
#webtoon#manhwa#my gently raised beast#the tainted half#the double agent#beware the villainess#swoon#swoon worthy#love advice from the great duke of hell#him & him & him#mythical errand#my dear cold blooded king#rewriting the villainess#lullaby#romantic flow#there must be happy endings#Dahae’s dream#Dahae’s imagination
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Ebook covers I’ve been working on since 2021.
I have one more chapter of the ebook series to refresh and then it’ll be completed when I finish the epilogue. As said in a previous post, I began compiling it all around 2021, but I did it in the order of which chapters required the least amount of work to update/refresh and everything Chapter 4 onward was pretty solid which meant i just slapped my PSD files together with some new cover art and called it a day.
The Prologue’s cover was posted back in 2021 over here and is now being considered Chapter 1. The original Chapters 1 and 2 is now combined as Chapter 2, and the rest pretty much stays the same.
I have 3 covers left to make and chapter 3 is the only one left to edit. Chapter 3’s cover (The one with the switchup between Fawful and Cackletta) will feature Lima, Chapter 5’s (how Fawful and Cackletta first met) will feature Cackletta, and I don’t know what the epilogue’s cover will be.
As for the the pages that were updated for the ebooks, I’ve retyped all the dialogue in the font that was used for Chapter 4 onward and re-wrote some of the spicier dialogue that totally did not age well 12 years later. All of the edited pages are uploaded to www.immortalfool.thecomicseries.com and the PDFs will be uploaded later this week to my gumroad page and cameronluna.deviantart.com
I’ll repost these as a complete set when the complete set is done.
I almost had Cackletta toss a kamek-dressed-as-peach jab in this panel but then i realized that this page was written in 2010 and having a 2010 page jab a scene to a game that didn’t released yet would be a time paradox—- except new SMB Wii came out in 2009! Whoops!
Originally, it was intended to be a re-occurring thing that Kamek didn’t like looking at Fawful when Cackletta’s possession made him girl-shaped, but that was handled better in the Chapter 4 fight scene and we’ll leave it that that.
But anyway, we get more jokes of Lima and Cackletta calling him a child because he’s significantly younger than they are.
I’d love to do commentary on more of this someday!
#Immortal fool#Kamek#fawful#naval piranha#Prince peasley#fancomics#why did i type so much i could have been working on the next page#Beansprout on menopause#Kamek is okay around Lima because she’s a wish-manipulating war criminal#And that’s why he said she isn’t a girl in chapter 6#Why do you think Geno is so smug or deadpan around her?
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characters out of context
@serenanymph tagged me in this and it looks so fun i have to do it! i’m going to do all the chapters because i want to, so this is under a cut because there are. an amount of chapters in this draft.
no-pressure tagging @loopyhoopywrites @vollzz and @ahordeofwasps
Rules: Include one character quote of your choosing from each chapter of your WIP (or as many chapters as you'd like). Give absolutely no context, save for what's between two parts of an interrupted sentence, should that occur. You may mention who said it.
Prologue - Aliyne
“What can I say, it was a long walk.”
Chapter One - Lucian
“Perhaps I will purchase a chair from you, when I bring back the beast’s head,” said Lucian. “Good day.”
Chapter Two - Kelora Fenthari
“Surprisingly clever,” Kelora interrupted. Iolanthe’s mouth snapped shut. “Well, Mundy, it appears there is half a brain in that head after all.”
Chapter Three - Aliyne
“What’s all this ‘we’ business? I can let a giant monster do what it likes.”
Chapter Four - Vren
“If you lied to me, I’ll be back,” the Wraith said. “You know how I feel about liars, Johar.”
Chapter Five - Leshanna
“Why did Master Ril'azur Fierrdenre repair your lute and why do you keep calling him ‘Zinby’?” Leshanna hurried after him. “Will you please take off that robe, it is not yours-- oh, no, not right now! For goodness sake, Mister Crow, this is my kitchen!”
Chapter Six - Sorrow
“I had very little desire to be transformed into a toad this evening.”
Chapter Seven - Aliyne
“If you play that fucking arpeggio one more time I am going to tattoo it on your backside with my knife.”
Chapter Eight - Zander
“Fuck you, dragon, we’re alive!”
Chapter Nine - Quest
“Leshanna’s on my side, she says it’s ‘a menace to public health’, but Aliyne and Zander think it’s stupid.”
Chapter Ten - Leshanna
“Where else are they going to stay? In a tavern?” said Leshanna, shuddering. “You can’t expect Imidris to sleep in a room next to drunken sailors and cutpurses.”
Chapter Eleven - Sorrow
“You are a menace and you are demoted.”
Chapter Twelve - Aspiration
“Because of the dragon?” She cocked her head. “Or because of the Wraith?”
Chapter Thirteen - Sorrow
“Now, are you going to come home like a good boy or are you going to insist on playing out past your bedtime?”
Chapter Fourteen - Vren
“No, please, continue to lecture me. I have literally nothing I’d rather be doing.”
Chapter Fifteen - Sorrow
“Are you agreeing with everything I say in the vain hope that I’ll eventually stop talking?”
Chapter Sixteen - Aliyne
“What is it with you infernii and doing the absolute stupidest thing you possibly can at any given time?”
Chapter Seventeen - Sorrow
“I do not think House Kyvelian would have the first idea what to do with you. I have my own reasons for wanting you out of their hands.” He gestured at the dragons corpse. “Run around in Valloroth a little longer, sweet prince. Kill a few more monsters – I’ve heard it builds character.”
(and the epilogue has no dialogue)
Valloroth taglist: @cherrybombfangirlwrites @memento-morri-writes @foxboyclit @lawful-evil-novelist @at-thezenith @morganwriteblr @fayeiswriting @serenanymph (ask to be +/-)
#writeblr#valloroth blogging#c: sorrow#c: vren#c: lucian#tag games#c: leshanna#c: zander#c: quest#c: aliyne#c: aspiration#i am unsurprised how many of these are sorrow#man has all the best lines XD
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Reading BioShock: Rapture (Part 3: The Prologue’s Prologue)
<- Part 2: John Shirley and the Front Matter || Back to the Beginning || Part 4: More Prologue (I Cannot Shut Up) ->
And so I begin with the prologue—at long last.
Oddly, despite the trash fire that is everything else, it starts out perfectly fine:
Sullivan, chief of security, found the Great Man standing in front of the enormous window in his corporate office. The boss was silhouetted against city lights. The only other illumination was from a green-shaded lamp on the big glass-topped desk across the room, so that the Great Man was mostly in shadow, hands in the pockets of his crisply tailored suit jacket as he gazed broodingly out at the skyline.
It was eight o’clock, and Chief Sullivan, a tired middle-aged man in a rain-dampened suit, badly wanted to go home, kick off his shoes, and listen to the fight on the radio.
Mmmm. Mmmmmmmm
I do like this
I have talked much shit but this is a good start. This is how a BioShock story should start: with The Man Upstairs Himself, Andrew Ryan. Chief Sullivan’s POV—displayed here in third person-limited—is a great choice as well. It leaves Ryan a little more mysterious and less defined, which I like. I think that keeping a character like Ryan mysterious is more akin to the dialogue we’d get during gameplay. We can’t see Ryan’s interior self; we see what he chooses to present to us. And if we have any flaws as human beings, it’s that we assume people are more put together than they actually are, so this is an excellent choice. Don’t ever give your reader a sense of his weakness. Just show him rollin (we hatin)
The two top paragraphs give an excellent sense of his standing and wealth (a chief of security at his beck and call from his ritzy upstairs office somewhere on Fifth Avenue, NYC). There are some factual and historical elements here worth looking up revolving around the locale: what kind of skyline you could see from what part of Fifth Avenue, mostly. For example, what’s the best area of the city to choose so Ryan isn’t just looking out his window at another window? Simultaneously, not every skyscraper or building on Fifth Avenue is going to be ideal for both business and skygazing.
That said, this is relatively simple to handwave away with just the barest knowledge of the area (Sachs! Fifth Avenue!), and I don’t know what kinds of businesses or buildings were typically present. At least this sounds right. (Note from Future Me: do not trust him. He is a hack. He didn’t even use Wikipedia. NOT EVEN WIKIPEDIA)
All of this dialogue is going on during a Dark and Stormy Night, so I spy a little of BioShock’s inherent camp as well, and I approve. Characterization is shown through a combination of body language and inner desires. We have a great feel for Sullivan as a workaday man and his awe of Ryan works perfectly. Very nice. Mwah.
What did I hate about this? This is fine. I mean, I guess it’s a little over-the-top on description, and there’s an ugly little adverb in there, but that’s not so bad. It’s not so ugly that it’s awkward.
Coincidentally, I heard that Ken Levine worked on some pieces for the novel. Several articles mention a “foreword.” Others mention that he was supposed to write a prologue and an epilogue. However, he’s not mentioned as a cowriter, and my version—a first-edition paperback—doesn’t have a foreword. We’ll have to presume everything is John Shirley until it is confirmed otherwise.
Yet sometimes it seemed the tycoon was casting about for a friend he could take to heart.
Oh.
No,,,,
noooooo, no. No,,,,,,,,,
Wrong. Bad. Wrong. Incorrect.
Showing versus Telling
This story goes from letting the mood and dialogue speak for itself to Telling almost immediately. For a brief, blissful second you’re really leaning into Chief Sullivan and then Andrew “Friendship Is Magic” Ryan happens in paragraph three. It’s like Shirley said, “SHIT, I forgot to mention he’s lonely,” and instead of finding a good place to show it, he just shoved a paragraph in there. “There! Done!” slams back wild turkey
So. Showing versus Telling. Writers yell about this a lot, especially the mantra: “Don’t Tell! Show!”
In other words, show the character feeling lonely. Don’t outright say he’s lonely.
Now, Telling has got its uses, whatever anyone says. That said, when it comes to character growth, you try everything in your power not to “Tell.”
This phrase. “Casting about for a friend.” Why is this here. Where did this come from. How does it feel. It literally pops out of nowhere, inspired by nothing. (Equally important is that every subject leads seamlessly into the next.)
Does Ryan seem like he needs a friend? Is that the main point of the scene? No, the point of the scene is Ryan’s political stance and forceful personality. You don’t need to explain every fucking theme at once, it’s okay. Like maybe start with the forceful Big Boss shit and then Ryan goes home and he’s like :( boy it sure is lonely round these parts.
In fact, that would be a great contrast, wouldn’t it?
Imagine this: a scene of the big bad boss man ordering his chief of security to beat the shit out of some strikers in Kentucky. Then show him getting into a nice car by himself. Show him eating dinner at a nice restaurant across from an empty chair, surrounded by diners who all have friends and beloveds at hand. (Show this against a mirror or window. He is not even looking at his reflection.) Show him leaving by himself; he heads to his fine penthouse apartment by himself. Show his driver and doorman as nonentities. Show him surrounded by quiet servants who quietly serve him and quietly leave until he’s sitting by himself with a glass of merlot. Maybe he has a newspaper or a radio sitting next to him. Emphasize that silence and the vast spaces around him.
If you must explicitly mention loneliness, I’d recommend Ryan talking like no one’s on his level. He probably thinks he’s too good for other people, and it’s possible his autism/BPD/trauma is so powerful that he’s on a separate plane of existence. Most Randian Ubermensch are.
Another issue with “Telling” is that it tends to flatten characters out. They become grocery lists of traits. And Ryan should not ever, ever be flattened. He should rise above you like a thunderhead. Do not steal his mystique—that’s literally the most important facet of his character. I’m sure there’s a way to “Tell” that he’s lonely, but this is not the right place or time, and this sounds like he’s a little girl listing all alone in a playground instead of a big bad boss man who sends strikebreakers to fuck people up.
I’m Sorry to Report to You
Ryan asks Sullivan for his two reports.
“Let’s have the report on the strikes first, get it out of the way. The other one…” He shook his head. “That’ll be like hiding from a hurricane in a cellar. We’ll have to dig the cellar first, so to speak…”
what
I’m assuming this line means, “A cellar is inadequate for a hurricane. Therefore I need to build a cellar for the oncoming hurricane.” Which makes. No goddamn sense.
But I also have no experience with hurricanes. To make certain I was not missing some finer point, I went to a friend who has lived in the hurricane lands and asked her questions.
watchword — Today at 6:22 PM
FRIEND.
I have a hurricane question for you.
"That'll be like hiding from a hurricane in a cellar."
What does that mean to you
To me, it implies that a cellar wouldn't be enough. Admittedly, I've never lived in hurricane country
Salty — Today at 6:23 PM
It's very silly, tbh
Hurricanes are multi-day affairs
And usually we don't have cellars in hurricane country
watchword — Today at 6:23 PM
Is this a saying that you know of?
Guess where I read it
Salty — Today at 6:23 PM
LOL
It's not a saying I know, but I can guess that someone confused a tornado with a hurricane
watchword — Today at 6:24 PM
I have always gone into cellars for tornadoes
what the fuck
Salty — Today at 6:24 PM
Hurricanes are like big multi-day thunderstorms, and usually on the coast, the water table is too high to have a cellar or basement
(I found out all of this under two minutes john)
Long story short, this sentence does not make any goddamn sense and it’s the second thing that Andrew Ryan says.
Sullivan wondered what he meant by that cellar remark, but he let it go.
NO. Sullivan do not let him go. Ask him what the fuck that even means. Sullivan? You must kill him sullivan
Instead of killing him, Sullivan tells him about strikes.
“The strikes—they’re still going on at the Kentucky mines and the Mississippi refinery.”
Okay there are two jarring problems here.
First is the specificity. Consider this: these are two adult men, both professionals, both competent in their respective fields, and they are speaking about a situation that has been ongoing for a while. This is a report that Ryan expects, and the implication is that there have been others.
One would expect for Sullivan to have a far more specific insight into the situation—perhaps big players on all sides, perhaps a list of demands from the strikers, perhaps some talk about national, state, or city politics or site layout and all the ways they affect progress. Moreover, when strikes occur, they are often referred to by the name of the city and company they’re part of, and it makes sense that Ryan would have an idea of his facilities and where they are in the country.
Long story short, proper names would be rattled off left and right, stakes and states would be presupposed or mentioned offhand, and both Ryan and Sullivan would know what they were immediately.
Second, the phrasing is so juvenile that it’s cringe-worthy. This sounds like what a high-school student thinks that businessfolk sound like. “They’re still going on” is such a nothing sentence. Under what circumstances? Sullivan would know what circumstances and he’d start out right where they left off the last time.
If I put myself in my CEO shoes, “they’re still going on” is not something I’d wait up to hear. I’d be like bitch I know, have they been able to ship the scabs in? How about the Elizabethtown situation? How many more did that Pinkerton bastard say he needed? All right. How much? He said he could do it with $XXXX; why hasn’t he managed it? Did they at least take care of that Mulligan man? Why not? jesus christ is everyone a fucking Red-tit-sucking bastard? What do you mean the mayor wants a payoff? What is this, Ukraine?
Except I’d not say “Ukraine,” I’d go look up first-hand accounts and experiences with famously corrupt governments in the Soviet bloc between years 1930 and 1946 that Ryan may have had personal experience with and just replace “Ukraine” with some important city somewhere with a tiny off-hand note that makes it sound like Ryan knows his shit. I probably wouldn’t swear that much, either—Ryan is classy until he’s been pushed to the edge.
But this is just a first draft, too. This is just me making shit up in literally 10 seconds. You come in later and you smooth that shit out. You look up where mines are located in Kentucky, where refineries were most likely to be located in Mississippi, and you might look up what kind of products they make and staff they’d employ at those locations in 1945. Look for pictures and firsthand accounts of related strikes at the time and double-check if the Pinkertons were even still a thing in 1945. Extrapolate, steal, remix, and you’re golden.
Also? This is wartime. Not only was production a completely different monster, businesses were under the heel of the US government at this time. Interesting historical note: most unions had pledged not to strike. In 1943, coal miners were like fuck you, pay me, and a strike began. The government responded by nationalizing all coal mines and threatening to send in troops as strikebreakers. When nationalization and the threat of violence didn’t work, President Roosevelt’s next response was to fucking criminalize striking in war plants or nationalized industries.
Did the coal miners care?
lol no
And so labor gains were made during an unlikely period.
I found this out in 30 seconds of searching from a quality source at the US Archives. Usually I look for at least two separate accounts of the same event just to make sure I haven’t stumbled on some goofery, as well as read documents both primary and otherwise, but if you’re short on time, a .gov website does nicely.
Why Are You Like This Again
Technically, Shirley is overcoming a problem here: he needs to communicate the kind of person that Andrew Ryan is, what Ryan is like in business, and Ryan’s political viewpoints. He doesn’t want to get locked up in meaningless minutiae. Of course, rattling off exact names is a great way to bluff your way out of a situation like this—to look like everything is business as usual, and imply you know more than you do. Despite writing more books than the Bible, Shirley does not know how to do this.
This is that pandering to the lowest-common denominator that I was telling you about. Shirley cannot trust the reader to know anything about the time period, the work of a company president (I’m not using “CEO” because this term was coined in 1984—neat), or anything beyond the most basic comprehension of wartime, unions, and strikes.
I just realized that Shirley is also the lowest-common denominator so good news for all the low-coms out there.
There’s a simple solution, of course: have the strikes be brand new. Then Sullivan would have to share explicit details about what’s going on, since Ryan would be equally new to the situation. There would still be some shorthand in their speech to experiences they’ve had outside of this one, but it would be easy this way. Then you can mention everything by name (“Our mines in Martin County!”) for the benefit of the reader.
The eagle-eyed reader will have noted: yes, that would be easy! but it would also take work. What if u are tired. What if u r unmotivate. Wat if
rather toke
puff puff
Of course, there are ways to ease the reader into these subjects. We’re approaching this work as a standalone, remember? This is one of the strengths of literature—the ability to explain complex subjects in-narrative by bouncing off of other intangible subjects.
Your reader doesn’t have to know everything, but the dialogue should be immediately understandable to them by context alone. And it’s totally doable! I’ve done it! Because you have to do it with all subjects when you’re writing, not just historical concepts! If you’re a writer you’ve probably done it without thinking about it!
Basically, you lead the reader in with easy concepts, then build on that simple foundation with more and more complex ideas. It takes some work and thought, but it’s also fun and interesting and is a great educational opportunity for both you and your reader. I can’t believe I’m writing this
Touchy-Feely
Here’s the problem.
I said in the last installment that I suspected I’d see quick, undigested concepts. I did not guess that Shirley would opt to do NOTHING. No research, not even badly. He didn’t even look at a map. He’s almost purely visual, and in the worst way: he bases his scenes on how he feels about the 20,000 movies he’s seen and conflated in his brain.
I now suspect that he is the kind of writer one is in childhood: the kind who writes solely by feeling. This can be done, and can be done well, but it is also hit-and-miss because you’re not sure WHY you’re doing what you’re doing. This probably explains why he could win an award: because he wrote with his whole dong at some point, took for granted he would be Great Forever, and got complacent.
Because Shirley isn’t here to write about a concept. No, he doesn’t have a concept to explain at all. He writes blindly, with his little feelers bipping and bopping all over. He is a pillbug with Microsoft Word and an internet connection.
Black Butterflies is in two parts: eight stories set in "This World" (what we call reality) and eight stories set in "That World" (where the door swings open into the realm of the surreal, the supernatural). In "This World" we meet a middle-class white woman who turns a mugging by two black youngsters into her chance to pursue glory as a criminal; a cop who knows his partner is guilty of murdering his wife; two hustlers who throw a sadistic and drug-infested party at the expense of their bound and unwilling host (believe it or not, it's hilarious); "a girl who died from cum"; and two bike messengers whose fate is to join hundreds of other people in a freak accident so... —Summary of Black Butterflies by John Shirley on Amazon
This seems pretty cool, actually. I might actually rea
wait
she died from what
Well now I’m definitely reading it. Although I’d bet money it’s edgy 90s bullshit.
You Should Be Ashamed
Shirley just wanted an approximation of Business Men having a Business Talk. He doesn’t take a step back and say, “Ah! I should know what an oil tycoon might talk about to his chief of security in midcentury America. In which case: I should know how the oil business works, I should know what a security officer does, I should know what company presidents do in case of a strike… oh, and I need to introduce some themes: the loneliness of being a great man, the kinds of people Andrew Ryan would surround himself with, Andrew Ryan’s politics…”
In his mind, he sees that scene he’s seen a hundred times before—the one where the lackey has not done enough, and then the Big Businessman says, “You’ve let me down, lackey!” And the Lackey, satisfactorily stung, murmurs: “I will do better, sir.”
But he doesn’t know why he needs it, so it all comes across as nonsense. It’s just the random babbling of a theme generator. This is like AI writing. I mean if you care that little just go into a book published in like, 1940, and steal the dialogue out of that. Nobody reads anyway, just be a bastard, jesus christ. I mean I’ll still hate you but…
I can’t believe this is where I’m at right now: debating myself whether it’s more or less ethical that he did nothing because he didn’t care or was too lazy to steal. I suppose it’s possible that he’s not lazy, just incompetent, but that’s even worse somehow.
He was paid. He was paid to do this. This is ultimate “have the confidence of a mediocre white man” energy.
Long story short, you don’t have to care terribly much to do this right. I did all of the research above in less than an hour, and it’s been a minute since I’ve read up on wartime industry. I’d be embarrassed to end it there, but there are little ways to cut corners that don’t make you look like a fucking jerk.
At this moment, I feel like I can say, with absolute confidence, with curled lip and disdainful eye, that this wasn’t done right. It wasn’t even done. Shirley didn’t do even a modicum of research. Not even to look up a couple of random towns in a couple of random states. Not even to straight-up invent them.
I’ll just say it: pathetic.
Parasite Expectations
If I spent any time going over all of the dialogue here, I’d end up sharing the contents of the entire page, and I think that is frowned upon in copyright law. However, if I told you everything was wrong, would you believe me? All of the same problems apply: juvenile speech patterns, a lack of specificity everywhere that matters, and constant Telling.
Oh! And a new problem rears its lopsided head: weird fucking tangents. There is a random aside to the shoulder padding in Ryan’s jacket for no reason. I think it’s supposed to give you a material sense of the different era? It’s weird though, and it occurs after unrelated dialogue. It’s akin to those novels where the character gets out of bed and looks in the mirror at her blue orbs.
Note to would-be historical novelists: read midcentury novels and note what jumps out at you as old. Everything sounds pretty much the same as today except no one has computers or cell phones, and there’s some problem-solving that revolves around that, but all you have to do is confer with the Olds in your life if you’re uncertain. Every now and then someone mentions snapping a garter or there’s a random mention of typewriters or talking to a phone operator. Oh, and everyone wears a hat. And it’s rarely a specific hat, it’s just “hat.” Because usually people don’t think twice about the mundane bullshit they have to do until they have to do it, and knowing when to be specific is its own art.
Just fucking read ok. Don’t be a Shirley. He clearly hasn’t read anything in his life.
Buzzwords
After Sullivan shares the poor man’s version of a “But I twied to stwikebweak them, Mr. Wyan,” Ryan says at one point:
“Have you been out there in person? Did you go to Kentucky—or Mississippi, Chief? Hm? You need not await permission from me to take personal action—not on this!"
What is Sullivan supposed to fucking do, run out there and start beating people with a stick?
A new misfortune has arisen: now it’s clear to me that Shirley doesn’t know what Sullivan’s job entails.
I could tell you how this kind of research works but at this point I’m just fucking horrified. This is unbelievable. If you don’t know what a job is like, research it. Have you done it? Oh of course not, you’re a lazy-ass bastard and you have more confidence than capability. But let’s say you give a shit!
Now take your little notepad out, write down all the details you can’t answer, list them in order of importance, and then research them. That’s how it works. There are people on AO3 taking college classes to understand sign language or research historical periods for fanfiction only 20 people will ever read. Tor and 2K paid this man to regurgitate half-baked movie sequences that he couldn’t be arsed to look at a map for.
And it’s even worse than that, somehow. He didn’t just not research. He didn’t even make something up! He didn’t say to himself, “What does a security officer do? Uhhh from my extensive viewings of Die Hard:” and then just invent shit. He just did nothing.
Not only is this nothing like real life, this isn’t a scene as it would exist in a film. It’s merely film-like. It’s the undigested impression of a sequence. It’s the shadow on the cave wall. It’s the writer equivalent of nearsightedness.
Now, if Shirley had been specific, we would be able to say exactly what Sullivan ought to do. But we have no idea what is even happening. Shirley should have asked how strikes work, and what kinds of things a security officer with no moral compass might get up to, and what kinds of vengeance a tycoon might wreak, among many other things. But Shirley does not know. Nor does he care. And besides, it’s just so much fucking work and he’s got to go Geezer Scream at a dive bar for the dead.
Most importantly, this dialogue doesn’t reflect well on Sullivan and it doesn’t reflect well on Ryan. They are not only pretending to be a Chief of Security and a company president, they are pretending to be human beings. Also, both of them now look weak as balls. I am confident I could beat both of them to death at the same time with my bare fists and I am a bag of juice.
Ryan continues:
“Unions… they had their own little army in Russia—they called them Workers Militias. Do you know who these strikers are? They are agents of the Reds, Sullivan! Soviet agents! And what is it they demand? Why, better wages and work conditions.”
I had a history class too. Did this guy share literally anything that he hadn’t heard offhand once? Has he ever opened a book just to learn something?
In any case. This. This is where I knew I was going to hate this book forever. This paragraph sounds like a joke. Is this what Shirley thinks satire is? I’m going to kill myself.
This is the paragraph that settled the back cover summary’s authorship for me. This is the paragraph where I realized, “John Shirley does not understand Objectivism or Andrew Ryan, nor the appeal of either.”
Perhaps this is a great place to work in another aside. Do you like asides? No? Fuck you.
Aside #330,80085,5420695.52
So! Back in the day there was this commentator for Fox News called Charles Krauthammer. He was a legitimately intelligent and capable man and a Pulitzer Prize winner. Fox would set him on a panel with three babies and it was like night and day. The babies with their perfumed cheeks and platinum blow-outs would share their shower thoughts, which were mostly buzzwords and half-digested anger.
Then Krauthammer would start speaking and you felt like there was a miscarriage of justice. How did these three other losers get on this panel? Send them back to fucking preschool. He had this vision of cause and effect over time that the babies were too young and poorly-educated to see. He was connecting dots to universes only he could show you. Like are there more of this man? If there were, leftists would be in trouble.
Conservatives loved this guy because they all suffer from this niggling terror they are all actually very dumb, and it wounds them that intelligentsia tend toward liberal doctrines. But if Krauthammer was smart that meant they were actually smart! (this is its own stupid bullshit but it’s all they have. god bless them. having your head permanently stuck up your ass is difficult work)
I thought about going back to listen to some old Fox News shit for this but I decided to pull a Shirley. I am forced to listen to Fox News every day now and I can’t stand it. It’s probably not what I remember. I liked Krauthammer back when I was a conservative, but I have also been an idiot for most of my life. It is probable that I still am. An idiot, I mean. Look at me NOW. Picking up pennies, gasping for breath in an airtight room, writing this shit for three people and about 10,000 bots. Feed this shit into your AI algorithm and get fucked.
Now.
This Andrew Ryan is spouting shower thoughts. This is not Krauthammer behavior. It’s not even Randian behavior—and like it or not, she was intelligent, in her own way.
But Shirley’s Andrew Ryan is not an intelligent man. This is not a Pulitzer Prize winner. You can tell because all he utters are buzzwords, and the buzzwords are expected to do all the heavy lifting.
Does BioShock’s Andrew Ryan utter buzzwords? Sure, to expand on concepts. Look at some of his dialogue from the game:
Gregory, don't come whining to me about market forces. And don't expect me to punish citizens for showing a little initiative. If you don't like what Fontaine is doing, well, I suggest you find a way to offer a better product. —“Offer a Better Product,” BioShock
What is the buzzword? “Market forces.” Ryan mentions the market forces, then builds on his ideas of what ideal market forces are. This is also a great baseline for his character. He hates Frank Fontaine. He has known Fontaine is bad news for a long time. He will not stop Fontaine for his success alone.
On the surface, the Parasite expects the doctor to heal them for free, the farmer to feed them out of charity. How little they differ from the pervert who prowls the streets, looking for a victim he can ravish for his grotesque amusement. —“Parasite Expectations,” BioShock
What is the buzzword? “Parasite.” “Parasite” has a specific meaning in Objectivist parlance, as well as BioShock's, and it’s something that Ken Levine built on over time.
Your first thought when you heard this, as a sane person, was to reject it. Levine knew you would reject it. He wants you to hit that cognitive dissonance and wriggle in your seat. He wants you to think.
This audio diary is an expansion on the concept of the parasite. What other parasites are in game, literally and figuratively? What is parasitic behavior? Is this really parasitic behavior? What are the differences between your definitions of “parasitic” and Andrew Ryan’s?
Just because I hate you, here is some shit from Atlas Shrugged:
“Who is John Galt?”
The light was ebbing, and Eddie Willers could not distinguish the bum’s face. The bum had said it simply, without expression. But from the sunset far at the end of the street, yellow glints caught his eyes, and the eyes looked straight at Eddie Willers, mocking and still—as if the question had been addressed to the causeless uneasiness within him.
“Why did you say that?” asked Eddie Willers, his voice tense. —Atlas Shrugged, Ayn Rand
Throughout Atlas Shrugged, Rand uses “John Galt” as a touchstone. She creates a buzzword, and she expands on it over and over and over. There are over 500,000 words of expansion in this shit. She does not tell you why it’s important. She introduces a sensation of unease and hints that the name is everything.
She does not do as Shirley does here:
“[Buzzword]… they had their own little army in Russia—they called them [Buzzword]. Do you know who these [buzzword] are? They are agents of the [buzzword], Sullivan! [Buzzwords]! And what is it they demand? Why, [buzzwords] and [buzzwords].”
Using a single word or phrase to carry a world of meaning is a fucking privilege, not a right. You must earn it. And if Ayn Rand is kicking your ass you need to rethink your work strategy.
Did You Want the Second Report or
Ryan wants that second report:
“And—the other report? It’s true, isn’t it?”
“Both cities are almost entirely destroyed. One bomb apiece.”
…
“Our man in the State Department smuggled this out for us.”
And then Sullivan gets him some nice glossy photographs. thanks sullivan. u could have killed him sullivan. this could have been short sullivan
This is a rare case of John Shirley doing research.
First of all, photos of nuclear destruction didn’t get out for some time. You can confirm this by looking at the front pages of newspapers. Reporting on the disasters occurred nearly simultaneously in the Western world, but newspapers of the day didn’t have images—Japan was closed to outsiders—so they used drawings and stock art to depict related subjects (the pilots responsible and the plane used, for example) or what they thought the destruction might be like (by quick artistic rendition) or political comics (“fuck u because Pearl Harbor”). Immediate images of the destruction do exist, but it took them a while to get out, and there was also some good old-fashioned censorship (USA! USA!). If you want a good jumping-off point, the Wikipedia article shares a few bite-sized nuggets.
Secondly, reports of radiation sickness—and concepts of atomization itself—were not really in the public consciousness at this point. Nor were they reported until at least a month later.
So yeah, it makes sense that if Ryan wanted to see real pictures and get information he could trust, he’d lean on his power and prestige to get them—it's a great illustration of both, as well. But none of this is explained or implied in any effective way, and I was already deeply suspicious of Shirley, so my very first thought was, “You mean………. the second report…….. was the fucking newspaper”
The part of this that irks me is how many times Andrew Ryan turns to Sullivan for his opinion. I feel like this is wrong and I can’t put a finger on it. I truly don't think he'd ask Sullivan for his opinion except in a hypothetical sense, and I don't think he'd broadcast his mood. My idea of Andrew Ryan is as someone who is extremely controlled. But BSR's Ryan is unpleasantly soft and too obviously unsettled. Why does he care?
I ask this because Randian Ubermensch do not give a single shit about what anyone ever thinks, ever. This is not to say that we should strip Ryan’s humanity away like Rand does, but there’s a way to do it effectively. I know this is true because Ken Levine did it and because I have been the kind of person who understands this particular brain rot.
In any case: this gives us a literal date for this sequence. It would have to be after August 9, 1945, when Hiroshima was wiped off the map, and before images got out (I didn’t look ahead far enough to see who got first dibs because that's not my job). So why wasn’t an exact date given on the front page? Because the first page just says “1945.” Why not “August 10, 1945” or “August 1945”? Like if you’re giving the date give the whole-ass date. Are you afraid of commitment john shirley
Before we go on, look at this. LOOK AT THIS
The Great Man held the glossy photographs to the window so he could make them out in the twinkling light of the skyline.
Shirley is so sold to this image of a silhouette against a skyline that he makes Andrew Ryan try to look at pictures with the light from someone else’s window 17 miles away.
THERE’S A LAMP RIGHT BEHIND HIM. THERE’S A LAMP. DO YOU REMEMBER THE FUCKING LA
I Have to Stop Now
I have been trying to keep these posts under 3,000 words. Every single one has hit 6,000. There is something remarkably cursed about all of this.
I think I’ll start stretching out and covering larger swathes of text eventually. We’re basically setting a baseline: for what kind of writer John Shirley is, for what kinds of flaws he is cursed by, for what kind of work he’s willing to do or cognizant of or whatever.
Look guys. I’m on page 3. It’ll get less dense from here on out. I promise.
At least I am getting a foot up on my own research, right?
right?
kill me
<- Part 2: John Shirley and the Front Matter || Back to the Beginning || Part 4: More Prologue (I Cannot Shut Up) ->
#bioshock#bioshock rapture#andrew ryan#writing#rants#essays#objectivism#atlas shrugged#vvatchword#this is a long post gentlefolks#click it and it will evaporate your timeline#u have been warned#vv reading#'the first scene u see should not be the one where u have given up'
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