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just-prime · 8 months

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Take 6 I guess...

Wow. Just everything about that is wrong.

A cool visual here or there for sure. Whale falls in space? Fucking impeccable. The Chimaera fixed up with the gold plating? Very pretty. The weird Dark Crystal horse thing? Strangely cute.

Getting some Baylan backstory was nice, and he continues to the MVP both acting and writing-wise.

Have I run out of nice things to say? Yes

First off, fuck the 'a long time ago, in a galaxy far far away' shit. This show has not earned that! Not in the slightest!!!

Also I know it's supposed to be super mega turbo hyperspace…but still, it looked like utter shit. I can't understand how a show with this level of budget keeps shitting out crappy visuals...Oh wait it's Disney! Nevermind, makes total sense.

All the stuff with the nightsisters? FUCKING DUMB. Nowadays, no one cares about the nightsisters anymore unless it's Merrin or Ventriss, and Elsbeth is a far cry from either of them. I was worried from the start when the map temple was clearly nightsister in origin, and Elsbeth being revealed as one in hiding made absolutely no sense. It's weird and very much Filoni throwing darts at Clone Wars arcs he wants to rehash and recon. Also, the live action Mothers are lacking the grandiose nature that made Talzin have such compelling character design.

The fact that Sabine never slipped the cuffs seemed deeply weird. As did Thrawn somehow having an entire battalions-worth of Stormtroopers who survived the ship crash. There was also a throwaway line about some of the rando bandits on the world being Jedi trained, which REALLY came out of nowhere, but is clearly setting up Ezra having learned new skills.

Oh and Ezra shows up, is ALSO wearing noticeable contacts (blue). He looks way too old, and I felt absolutely nothing when he and Sabine hugged.

Okay, on to why we are all here...Thrawn

Let's start of with the mandatory FUCK YOU FILONI.

There was weirdly bad music through this entire sequence too, which was glaringly noticeable. Just to you know...set the mood for the butchering going on.

HE'S TOO PALE!!! They colored him like everything else in this show, copied whatever colors Rebels used, and then mutes the hell out of it. So everything looks washed out and sad. Also I don't know what it is about the eyes that feels off but there's something there that hits uncanny valley in a way that I feel could have been easily avoidable...

Yeah, and all the 'Army of the Dead' rumors that have been going around are all confirmed. They are literally emptying the catacombs of this ancient nightsister city directly into the cargo hold of the Chimera. It's so dumb. I hate this.

Two more episodes left, and given the rate of the leaks being true, it's probably gonna end on a cliffhanger, which is gonna be fucking stupid. So yeah. I'm gonna go scroll @ascyndic's blog so my eyes can rest and look at some incredible art of how Chiss should look...And potentially reread @furiosophie's fucking incredible post·mor·tem series to get a hit of realistic Thrawn characterization...as opposed to whatever this gross HttE ripoff swill we got.s

#ahsoka critical #dave filoni critical #ahsoka spoilers #ahsoka series #rambles #thrawn #nightsisters #ezra bridger #sabine wren #star wars #anti filoni

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stardustandash · 3 months

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Next Febuwhump fic!! This time it is the prompt 'outnumbered' and I've chosen J:FO (with a little Bad Batch flavour, no knowledge of the Bad Batch required). This one goes out to the Merrin and whump fans <3

Words: 2,247

Tags: blood and injury, hurt/comfort, BAMF Merrin

ao3 link

Outnumbered and Outgunned

The Empire always has a funny way of showing up at the worst moments. Things are already going sideways for Merrin on this mission but with the addition of the empire everything has gone from bad to worse. The Jedi relic she was supposed to be collecting for Cere was gone, and her pilot turned out to be some kind of treasure hunter, or “liberator of ancient wonders” herself, and had dragged her all through the ancient temple even after Merrin had said they should go back. Which had led them straight into the reason why the temple was empty in the first place: an Imperial base.

So here Merrin stands, with her back to a crumbling Jedi temple, only her dagger and magicks to arm herself, in front of what seems like a hundred Stormtroopers. At her side her pilot and treasure hunter mutters to herself and draws a blaster. While Merrin would like to think that the two of them have become a little more than strangers, she never knows how anyone will react to seeing Nightsister magick for the first time. She can only hope that this will be one of the times her companion is unflappable.

Without waiting to give the Stormtroopers a chance at aiming their blasters Merrin teleports herself into their ranks and slashes out with her dagger. She has practised the art of sinking it into the soft, fleshy gaps between the plates of white armour and her aim remains true. The first trooper goes down in a gurgle of blood and Merrin vanishes before the one next to him can raise his blaster.

From somewhere behind the sea of white-armoured bodies Merrin hears her pilot yelling taunts and blaster fire, so she can assume that the other woman is doing alright. For a while Merrin manages to hold her own. Over the years since leaving Dathomir she has honed her ability to kill into a deadly grace. The blood on her hands means one less Stormtrooper in the Imperial army. One less blaster gunning for the innocent. She carves her way through countless bodies, leaving a trail of death and fear in her wake.

And yet, there are more.

Stormtroopers seem to be respawning two for every one fallen. Merrin can feel herself flagging, the familiar feeling of a fist below her ribcage settling in as the first sign of her magick running thin. On Dathomir she would have been able to raise the dead to fight for her and pull upon an endless sea of magick. Out here in the galaxy she could only bring what magick with her she could build up with meditation. Cal always had another explanation, one to do with the Force and energy and some other things, but since they had parted ways it was best to leave those thoughts behind as well.

Merrin pops into existence behind a trooper and he falls with a gurgling scream. The effort of her magick is taking its toll now, she can feel the heaviness settling into her bones. Though she can still hear the exchange of blaster fire she can no longer hear taunts and insults above it. She hopes that only means her pilot is getting as tired as she is, not that she is injured. Merrin may know a little about flying, but she cannot get a ship she does not know off the ground and chart a course for Jedha. With a small pull at her magick she expands her dagger into a spear. With it she can sweep around her and keep the endless sea of troopers back as she cuts her way through towards her pilot.

Without her teleportation, however, Merrin becomes a much easier target for the Stormtroopers. They focus their blaster shots at her, and unlike a lightsaber, her spear won’t deflect the bolts. She must instead rely on instinct and ability to dodge. It goes well for a bit, but she is already tired. Heat flares across the side of her ribs just as she spots her pilot’s dark dreadlocks and blue bandanna.

Merrin stumbles, but only for a moment. She catches herself on the end of her spear and growls as she guts the trooper that shot her. Then she is back tearing through the crowd until she lands panting at the pilot’s side.

“Ghost Girl!” exclaims the pilot. “We gotta go!”

Merrin grimaces at the nickname, but she can’t help the fact that due to her colouring and magick half the galaxy calls her something ghost related. She doesn’t bother responding to the obvious as she grabs hold of the pilot’s arm.

“Do you get sick easily?”

“What? What kind of a question is that?”

“Because I need to know you will be able to keep running when we land,” says Merrin.

“No, I usually have a stomach of iron.”

“Good.”

Merrin gathers the magick to herself. In her mind’s eye she pictures the inside of the temple they walked through to get here, the pilot’s ship with its odd little droid. She squeezes her hand tighter around the woman’s wrist, making sure her grip doesn’t falter. A blaster bolt whizzes past her head close enough to singe though her hair and burn her ear, but Merrin hardly pays it any attention, instead concentrating on the spell.

“Sisters, mother, lend me your strength,” she whispers under her breath. She has not called upon them for much since leaving Dathomir, but now feels like as good a time as any to beg for their help.

Green magick swirls around Merrin, weaving between her and the pilot she intends to drag along with her. She has only done this with someone else once, and Cere had been sick for hours after. Merrin can only hope that the pilot takes it better. The Stormtroopers are closing in now that Merrin has stopped trying to stab them with her spear and they only have the pilot’s blaster to contend with. Then Merrin feels it, the spell is ready and within her grasp. Just as she unleashes it though two more rounds of blasterfire echo through the air. As Merrin disappears into the magick with her pilot she feels two bright bursts of pain.

Merrin rematerializes with a strangled scream. Her leg collapses beneath her, unable to bear her weight with the addition of a smoking hole through her thigh. Her shoulder throbs angrily as she hits the ground, letting her know where that second shot landed. At least they made it into the temple.

“Dank Farrik!” shouts the pilot as she lands on her hands and knees beside Merrin.

“My thoughts as well,” says Merrin with a groan.

The blaster holes are starting to burn with an all-encompassing flame. Even in the dim light Merrin can see the wetness spreading across the floor beneath her. She won’t be walking out of here, that much was certain. A glance at the pilot said that the woman is true to her word, she only appears rattled, not sick, though it is hard to tell in humans. She reaches out for the magick and feels it curling around her. Even just the process of reaching out to it is draining, and between the holes in her and the fight she knows she probably doesn’t have enough to get them to the ship.

“Oh Ghost Girl,” says the pilot with a low, sad voice. “Oh no.”

“It is not as bad as it looks,” says Merrin. They cannot afford to pause with worry here. The Stormtroopers will no doubt be searching the temple soon, if they aren’t already, and Merrin would not like to be here when they come across this hall.

“Well I’d say that if it’s even half as bad as it looks, we’re in a bit of an emergency situation.”

“And we were not before?”

“Stormtroopers? Nah, I can handle those any day. This? This is out of my realm of expertise,” says the pilot. “But I got a medkit and a ship that can get you to someone who can handle this. All you gotta do is stay alive long enough to get there.”

Merrin grins at her. She may be covered in her own blood and likely halfway to dying, but the pilot is funny, and more calm than anticipated. She should probably try to remember her name at some point.

It takes some maneuvering and swearing from the both of them but eventually the pilot gets Merrin out of the puddle of blood and to her feet and slings Merrin’s good arm over her shoulder. The position pulls at the graze on her side, but it is better than the alternative. Together they set off down the hall in the direction of the ship. Or rather the pilot sets off and Merrin does her best to keep herself on her feet as she’s dragged along.

Merrin hates feeling weak, but she cannot help herself while bleeding out. She must rely on her pilot to get her to safety. The walk through the temple becomes a haze of pain and darkness. At least they cannot hear the sounds of Stormtroopers behind them, but that doesn’t mean they can rest.

At last the ship comes into view. The thing is old and clunky compared to the Mantis but it is the best ship Merrin’s ever seen at the moment. The pilot helps her shuffle up the ramp and past the large, blocky droid and dumps her into the co-pilot seat. Merrin melts into the old leather and only feels slightly guilty about bleeding all over it. If the pilot didn’t want blood all over her cockpit she should’ve left her somewhere else. Distantly she registers that the ship is powering up, then rocking with movement yet it takes the blue of hyperspace outside the viewport for Merrin to realize they’re already in hyperspace and flying away from the Empire.

Then the pilot is looming over her, medkit in hand and far too close. Merrin starts, nearly sliding off the chair before collecting herself.

“Woah there,” says the pilot. “Just want to get you patched up before you decide to entirely repaint my cockpit.”

“Thanks,” Merrin mumbles.

The pilot crouches down and helps Merrin take off her jacket. The pain is excruciating and where Merrin would simply rip off the jacket as fast as she could or cut it off, the woman is slow and careful. By the time its off and in a heap on the floor Merrin is panting from the pain. Then there is the blissful coolness of bacta as the woman puts patches on her shoulder and thigh. Her side is fine without, and Merrin does not want the pilot to waste her entire medkit on her.

“There. That’ll hold you for now, but you really need some proper attention,” says the pilot as she leans back on her heels. “I have some friends who might be able to help you out, unless you already got somebody?”

Merrin weighs her options. She barely knows the pilot, she definitely doesn’t know or trust the woman’s friends. Yet can she betray Cere’s trust and lead this outsider to her newly founded base. It is a tough decision. What tips the scales is only the fact that Merrin is hurting and alone, and Cere is the closest thing she has to her sisters and all she wants right now is to be wrapped up in the safety of someone who understands.

“Cere,” says Merrin.

“Okay. Where do I find this Cere.”

Merrin bites her lip. “Jedha.”

“Jedha? Now that’s outta the way. Good choice for hiding.”

Merrin gives her the coordinates and the base’s comm channel. It feels like a betrayal, saying it all aloud, but at the same time it is a relief. She will see Cere soon. She closes her eyes and sinks into the seat. Beside her the pilot launches into some kind of story about ancient technology and a machine the size of a mountain. There are traps and diverging paths, and people that the pilot carefully does not name. Merrin lets it wash over her, drifting in and out. The story changes. Whether it’s the same one or different stories, she cannot tell. The trance breaks when she hears the tell-tale beeping of a ship comm.

“Hello? This is Phee Genoa, I’m looking for someone named Cere?”

“How did you get this comm channel.”

“Funny story, actually. Don’t have time to tell it at the moment. Got it from a girl. Grey, scary, ring any bells?”

“And what business do you have with Cere?”

“Well, see, my friend, the aforementioned girl, needs immediate medical attention and asked for her, so I’m just here to drop her off.”

“Very well, permission granted. These are the docking coordinates.”

“Received, thank you.”

There’s a beep, and the call ends. Merrin blinks her bleary eyes open to see the brown desert of Jedha looming through the viewport. Soon she will be at the base with Cere. She glances over at the pilot, Phee. Though she talks a lot, she seems like a good sort. Anti-Empire at least. She wonders if perhaps liberating ancient wonders could turn into liberating Force-sensitives from the threat of the Empire. She’d leave it to Cere to make a final decision, but maybe she will bring it up. Though it will have to wait until she is no longer bleeding like a stuck nydak.

#j:fo #jedi fallen order #jedi survivor #fanfic #fanfiction #nightsister merrin #merrin #phee genoa #febuwhump #cere junda #no knowledge of the bad batch required

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