The Workroom

Dear Yuletide Santa 2020

2020-10-17T14:52:41Z

Dear Yuletide Santa,

I'll love anything you give me but the following is here if you'd like some more guidelines or inspiration. Original characters and romance (including slash and het) are both okay. I'm okay with a spectrum of things from angsty with graphic violence to fluffy domestic, slice-of-life stories. Non-con and dub-con both okay, as is intense friendship.

Do Not Wants
- Prefer no major character-death, dark-fic, incest or suicide.

Fandom: Aliens (1986)
Characters: Ellen Ripley

New families or families of choice. Ellen bonding with someone (anyone!) over something that isn't survival. Can be a quiet scene during the movie or after the escape from the planet. Feel free to make Alien 3 never have happened! Feel free to have an older Newt or Hicks, Ripley making a new life, an alternative universe, whatever you like!

Fandom: Deus Ex
Characters: Any

There's a lot of angst and hurt in the world, and a lot of minor characters cast adrift by the action. Some classic hurt/comfort for any of the characters would be adored. Romance (het or slash) is fine.

I kind of adore Malik from Human Revolution and was very disappointed she didn't get more to do. She's my favourite but I'd also be happy with an insight into Frank Pritchard; original characters who just got caught up in events; those who only got small dialogue roles (like cops, members of the Tong, engineers carrying out repairs on Panchea, Megan and Adam's dog) are also very welcome.

The only one I'm not interested in is Megan.

Fandom: Earth 2
Characters: Devon Adair

I would love a wilderness story, where the challenges come from nature and the journey rather than conspiracy or internal strife. It can be a normal 'travel is hard' story or one tinged with natural things that surprise them like their first experience of rain. Feel free to include any of the cast but I do love seeing Devon in charge.

Thank you Yuletide Santa!

Writing Challenges

2015-11-23T10:19:56Z

You know what? It's NaNoWriMo time again and this year I'm writing a StarWars fic. I've written the same original story for the last three NaNoWriMos but this year I felt like a change.

I'm finding it a challenge writing Jedi smut scenes. It's alright for Jedi learners who I feel can get away with a little more passion but for the first time I'm trying to write a scene involving a calm and serene, experienced Jedi Knight having sex. It's also his first time. *sigh*

I'm sure others have done but it's not quite working for me at the moment...

I've also started working on a Yuletide draft - I'm going to cheat and count Yuletide words towards my NaNoWriMo count. This is one of the things that has always slowed me down, I think - stopping to think, plot, write and edit a 1000 word story while trying to write 50 000 words of another story.

Dear Yuletide Santa

2015-10-23T04:53:35Z

For the first time in a couple of years I've joined up to Yuletide again. Usually in the stress of planning for NanoWrimo I tend to forget to sign up...

Dear Yuletide Santa,

I'm sure I'll love anything you give me but if you'd like some more guidelines or inspiration, I'll try and include some more here. Original characters and romance (including slash and het) are both okay. Prefer no major character-death, dark-fic or incest. Angst and violence is fine.

Fandom: The A-Team (2010)
H. M. "Howling Mad" Murdock (The A-Team (2010))

Anything about Murdock being competent while also being genuinely crazy. Lots of scenarios you could do with this.

I don't mind if it's during the war before the team has noticed that Murdock's not quite right. Or maybe they're starting to worry but Murdock just smiles and saves their lives again.

Also possible is daily life at the VA, which may not even involve the team. Murdock feels at home with the staff and patients. His antics can drive them nuts but he also keeps up morale/helps the staff in unexpected ways. They miss him when he's away on adventures.

Alternatively, it could be a good old fashioned A-Team mission where his crazy antics are what's needed to save the day. Even if they cause more problems in the process.

Would prefer not to pair Murdock romantically with Hannibal or BA, but friendship with the fool is encouraged :)

Fandom: Aliens (1986)
Ellen Ripley and Rebecca 'Newt' Jorden

New families or families of choice. Ellen and Newt bonding over something that isn't survival. Can be a quiet scene during the movie or after the escape from the planet. I hate Alien 3 so make it so it never happened! Feel free to make them older, making new lives for themselves, a meeting in an alternative universe, whatever you like.

Would prefer no quasi-incest between Ellen/Newt please.

Fandom: Deus Ex: Human Revolution

There's a lot of angst and hurt in the world, and a lot of minor characters cast adrift by the action. Some classic hurt/comfort for any of the characters would be adored. Romance (including slash) is fine.

I kind of adore Malik and was very disappointed she didn't get more to do. She's my favourite but I'd also be happy with an insight into Frank Pritchard. Original characters who just got caught up in events or even those who only got small dialogue roles (like cops, members of the Tong, engineers carrying out repairs on Panchea, Megan and Adam's dog) are also very welcome.

The only one I'm not very fond of is Megan.

I keep losing stories!

2015-10-01T05:28:04Z

You know what? I've spent a lot of time working on long novel-length stories. Some of these have been drafts for so long that they outlive my laptops. My laptops get used daily for uni work and personal stuff, and carted around each day so they get pretty hammered. I save back-ups on hard-drives and on cloud services.

Problem is that I've been using a couple of really good dedicated-writing programs (used to be YWriter but now is Scrievner). These don't save stories in a single file, they save them in a project (a series of folders which includes formatting, attached research, planning and story notes). Every time I have re-loaded my new laptop with the old software and tried to open the saved projects, the software keeps telling me that the project no longer exists. BUT ALL THE FOLDERS ARE THERE. There has got to be a way to tell the program that the folders exist but so far I can't find it.

This has happened to a Lie-to-Me/Supernatural crossover, a Star Wars epic, a Batman/Resident Evil cross-over and now my original novel. And I'm grumpy :(

Star Wars: A Galaxy Not Their Own (8/33)

2013-02-20T14:31:11Z

Star Wars: A Galaxy Not Their Own (8/33)
Rating: T for teen, involves canon level of violence
Spoilers: Spoilers for the movies and some minor EU references.
Summary: Stranded in the future, Anakin and Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon struggle to work together to complete a mission for the New Republic.
Pairings: Obi-Wan/OFC, if you squint hints of Anakin/Obi-Wan pre-slash
Disclaimer: Most of the Star Wars universe belongs to George Lucas, Twentieth Century Fox and Disney - I'm not quite sure but it's definitely not me. This author uses these works without permission and for non-profit purposes.

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 |

Emalda swept her hair into a ponytail and forced her heartbeat to slow. She was not yet inside the Tscoruh Bar but already the loud music was verging on the point of pain. The rotund Kuhd security guard, Crose, who had escorted her from the spaceport, seemed unbothered by it. The Kuhdren were a scaly humanoid species with poor eyesight and dull hearing but a spectacular sense of smell. The newly settled world of Wefhuk was not the Kuhd home world but they made up more than half of the population of settlers. Many of the bars catered specifically to Kuhd sensibilities by spraying scented smoke and playing loud music with deep tones that could be felt through vibrations in the floor - some of them even had floors specially designed to transmit the vibrations to the patrons. The establishment which Emalda was queuing outside of was not quite that sophisticated. It was not Wefhuk’s trendiest bar but Emalda didn’t need it to be.

A small cloak room by the front door doubled as a waiting room for escorts. Tradition demanded that no Kuhd should enter a public doorway unless escorted by a Kuhd warrior. In theory, both men and women needed to be escorted by a trained warrior but in practice, mostly women were escorted by male acquaintances. It wasn’t that the males were acting as chaperones - the escorts had no responsibility or duty to control or even monitor the behaviour of their charges. They were only required for the scant seconds it took for their charges to enter or exit the doorway. Kuhd superstition held that doorways and thresholds were dangerous places frequented by spirits. Some of the spirits were benevolent but many were angry and thought to strike out indiscriminately at those that passed. The Kuhd-dominated government of Wefhuk genuinely felt they would be negligent unless they provided interplanetary visitors with the same level of protection they afforded their own. So, several Spaceport Security officials were designated as official escorts and were on standby to accompany offworlders to any locations they wished to visit.

Emalda might have been more sympathetic to the practice if it were applied equally to men and women. She had threatened to strike out into the city alone until Qui-Gon had insisted they respect Wefhuk’s laws and traditions while they were on the planet. Hence, officer Crose had become her unwelcome and perpetually bored shadow. As she passed her entry fee to the female bouncer at the door, Crose readjusted his belt around his ample waistline and huffed impatiently. He watched her closely until she had both feet over the threshold. Then he nodded in satisfaction and ambled off to the waiting room. His departure made her a fraction calmer but not much. She had not been in a bar of any sort for many years; towards the end of her time on Ekara, the army had begun to greatly restrict her movements.

She stood still for a moment to take her bearings. All of the bars she had ever visited had been full of Ekash with the occasional human visitor. This time there were many different alien species, most of which she'd never seen before. She pulled her jacket tighter, covering her nervously twitching tail. She moved towards the bar, bumping shoulders with the other patrons. It was early yet and though the tables were packed, the bar itself was relatively clear. She claimed a bar stool recently vacated by a Kuhd wearing so much perfume Emalda’s nose hairs were burning.

There were only two bartenders behind the bar, a human woman and a blue-skinned twilek. Emalda waved and the human walked towards her. She was blonde and heavyset which probably owed more to age and hard work than it did natural tendencies. Hard lines and wrinkles were just beginning to spread across her face, but the texture of her skin seemed strange to Emalda - she’d never seen make-up before.
“What can I get you, honey?” asked the bartender loudly in a voice rough with smoke.
“You’re Chara Polli?” asked Emalda, leaning across the bar so that she wouldn’t have to shout over the music. “I placed an order with Crose.”
Understanding lit the bartender’s eyes and she nodded in acknowledgment.
“Kuhd mead, honey,” said Chara. “If you’re new to Wefhuk, I’d recommend it.”
“I see,” said Emalda. “And how much is that?”
Chara casually glanced around to ensure they weren’t being overheard.
“72 Aisy, honey,” said Chara. “Or sixty New Republic credits, if that’s all you carry.”

Emalda slid a sack of fifty Republic credits onto the bar and then added ten more coins. Chara slid the money just as quickly below the counter, counting quickly. Once she was satisfied, a glass of amber liquid was placed on the counter in front of Emalda.
“See the droid before you leave,” said Chara briskly, waving a thick finger across the room.
The blue twilek watched them out of the corner of her eye as she wiped out a glass and set it on the bench. Chara moved to join her, whispering in her ear. Left alone, Emalda sipped gently at her drink as she swivelled on her stool to search the bar. A group of tables closest to the massive speakers had been avoided by most of the patrons. Amongst these tables a serving droid balanced precariously on a single wheel, only remaining upright through constant motion. The droid’s thin arms waved about erratically, occasionally coming down to make a swipe at a dirty table top with a washcloth. The washcloth was already so filthy that whenever the washcloth actually managed to make contact with the tables it didn’t make them any cleaner.

Emalda picked up the drink and emptied it in one go. She spluttered, expecting the burn of alcohol but not the overpowering sweetness. She returned the glass to the bar and slid from her stool. She approached the droid. The droid seemed largely oblivious to her approach, beeping and humming to itself. As she neared it, the droid whirled unexpectedly and the washcloth smacked into Emalda’s face. With a startled squawk, Emalda fell backwards against one of the tables. Equally startled, the droid tried to back away, overbalanced, and ended up on its side on the ground. Nursing her cheekbone, Emalda stood up. The droid was waving its arms frantically and twisting awkwardly on its back.

“W3-D7 has fallen and cannot get up!” squealed the droid. “W3-D7 has fallen and cannot get up!”
Emalda looked around. Most of the patrons were ignoring the racket (or couldn’t hear it over the music) but a few seemed to regard it as an entertaining distraction. Chara Polli was serving a customer but the Twilek was watching Emalda in growing alarm. A bouncer appeared and glanced over at Emalda but the Twilek slid out from behind the bar to intercept him, gesturing nervously and talking quickly. The droid, W3-D7, showed no signs of falling silent. Sighing, Emalda reached down and grabbed the droid's arms. With a firm yank, she hauled it back upright. The bouncer saw the droid was upright and seemed satisfied that the situation was under control. He returned to where he'd come from. The twilek shot a look of annoyance at Emalda before returning to the bar, where Chara Polli was waiting with a thunderous expression. Emalda got the impression that she had best be quick and turned back to the droid.

“W3-D7 is now up,” said the droid. “W3-D7 is grateful for your assistance.”
“I was told you had something for me,” said Emalda, leaning close to the droid’s hearing sensors.
“Are you the Ekash?” asked W3-D7, electronic suspicion creeping into its tone.
"I have a tail," said Emalda irritably.
“W3-D7 thinks you are the Ekash,” said the droid generously. “So W3-D7 will give you the package.”
The droid opened a compartment in its chest and pulled out a brown parcel. Emalda grabbed one end of the parcel. For a moment, she feared that the droid would not let go of the other end. Then W3-D7 released the parcel so suddenly it nearly fell over again.

“Will the Ekash be leaving now?” asked the droid.
“I was going to wait for a while...” said Emalda. “To avoid suspicion.”
“But the Ekash must leave. The Ekash already has the parcel.”
W3-D7 began to wave its arms in agitation. Emalda cringed, hoping that the droid was not going to begin squawking again. Chara Polli was still watching her.
“Very well,” snapped Emalda. “I’m going.”
“W3-D7 hopes the Ekash has enjoyed its time here. W3-D7 hopes you will return soon,” said the droid. “But the Ekash will leave now, yes?”

Emalda stuffed the package inside her jacket and stalked to the bar exit. One of the female bouncers seized her arm as she lifted a foot to cross the doorway. Her arm was nearly yanked out of its socket by the Kuhd, whose squinting eyes seemed far less friendly than her wide-toothed smile.
“Whoa,” said the Kuhd pleasantly. “Just a moment. Which escort was yours?”
Emalda suppressed the urge to hiss or stomp her foot at the universe.
“Crose.”
“I’ll just get him. Don’t go anywhere yet…”

Crose soon appeared outside the bar, nodding in gratitude at the female bouncer and settling his hands on his hip for the serious business of watching Emalda walk through the doorway.
“Can I come out now?” asked Emalda.
Crose nodded, “When you ready.”

She brushed past him and into the streets. She was heading towards the markets to buy supplies. She hadn’t told Crose but he sensed that she was in no mood to chat and trailed behind her, resuming his bored expression until six men in the iridescent red uniforms of the Wefhuk Investigative Service came charging around the corner. Emalda braced for an impact, but the officers weren’t interested in her. One hesitated at the sight of Crose’s blue Spaceport Security uniform and accidentally bumped Emalda on his way past. He was human, with his silver hair slicked into such large spikes that it pulled on the skin of his forehead and gave him a permanently wide-eyed expression. He blinked and muttered apologies before sprinting after his colleagues. Even while Emalda was reassured that they had been law-enforcement officers, she still checked the contents of her pockets in the privacy of the nearest fresher she could find.

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 |

Star Wars: A Galaxy Not Their Own (7/33)

2013-02-13T11:09:14Z

Star Wars: A Galaxy Not Their Own (7/33)
Rating: T for teen, involves canon level of violence
Spoilers: Spoilers for the movies and some minor EU references.
Summary: Stranded in the future, Anakin and Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon struggle to work together to complete a mission for the New Republic.
Obi-Wan/OFC, if you squint hints of Anakin/Obi-Wan pre-slash
Disclaimer: Most of the Star Wars universe belongs to George Lucas, Twentieth Century Fox and Disney - I'm not quite sure but it's definitely not me. This author uses these works without permission and for non-profit purposes.

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 |

Qui-Gon awoke and was instantly alert and ready. Something had awoken him and his hand automatically sought the lightsaber he kept by his side at all times. Laughter sounded again from the nearby cargo bay and he relaxed - nothing more disturbing than his companions had awoken him. With no reason to rise immediately, he rolled onto his back before remembering that the end of the bunk preventing him from fully straightening his legs. He only just managed to squeeze into the bunks, which were obviously designed for the shorter Ekash people. After five months of sleeping in cramped positions, even Qui-Gon’s legendary patience was starting to fray.

He propped himself up on his elbows and looked around the cabin. It took his eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness. When they did, he was able to see his Padawan, Obi-Wan Kenobi, still sleeping on his bunk in the middle column. Anakin’s bunk was empty. Qui-Gon swung his legs to the floor, the rustling of blankets noisy in the silence. His Padawan muttered in his sleep, rolling over without opening his eyes. As Qui-Gon tied his long, greying hair back from his face, he regarded his sleeping student. Obi-Wan was dead to the world. His mouth was open and the blanket was wrapped tightly around him. Qui-Gon believed in early rising but they had only recently arrived from another time zone, so he was inclined to let the young man sleep. The change in times seemed to affect Obi-Wan the most, by some unknown quirk of metabolism.

While pondering the strange habits of young padawans, Qui-Gon walked barefoot towards the door. He paused at the threshold to look back at a still-sleeping Obi-Wan. It was at that point that he realised that Anakin was asleep on the floor - strange habits of padawans, indeed. Shaking his head, Qui-Gon walked out the door into the cargo bay and was greeted by another burst of laughter. Emalda and Ben sat together in their improvised dining room, chuckling.
“Good morning,” said Qui-Gon.

Emalda froze, startled, but Ben smiled warmly in greeting. Emalda took another moment before she turned to Qui-Gon with a strained smile, her posture stiff and unwelcoming. He had seen her without her contacts in before but he had learned the hard way not to mention it aloud. It was still hard to not be offended when she was so obviously hostile. He knew she couldn’t help it and that it was a product of her previous experiences. Qui-Gon simply acknowledged his own feelings of offence and released it to the Force.

“Good evening, I believe,” said Ben, either not noticing or choosing to ignore Emalda’s response.
“Is it dark out?” asked Qui-Gon.
“If it’s not already, it will be soon,” said Ben lightly. “Juice?”
Ben held out a jug and an empty cup. Qui-Gon nodded and pulled up another crate to use as a chair. As he sat down, Emalda shot to her feet.
“I was thinking,” said Emalda quickly. “That it would be a good idea if I went and purchased more food supplies.”
“Don’t forget to take a commlink with you,” Ben reminded her. “You know where the credits are.”

Emalda smiled at him and moved to the only lockable crate they had. She rummaged through it for the sacks of New Republic credits they kept for purchases. They had an electronic account provided by the Senate for their mission but it had proved difficult to access on some of the more remote planets, such as Wefhuk. Qui-Gon took the cup of juice that Ben handed him, watching as Emalda retreated into the fresher to change. When he looked back, Ben was refilling the jug of juice with a self-satisfied smile.
“Ben,” said Qui-Gon.
There was an edge of warning in Qui-Gon’s tone that registered and Ben looked up warily.
“Is something wrong?” asked Ben.
“Not wrong exactly,” said Qui-Gon cautiously. “I just regret that Emalda and I do not get along as well as I should like.”
Ben nodded and poured a cup of juice for himself. Qui-Gon suspected it was mostly to occupy his hands.
“It is hard for her to trust people,” said Ben. “She did not trust me at first.”
“She did not get along well with Leia either,” Qui-Gon pointed out.
“Leia means well but she can be very forceful with her opinion,” said Ben.

Qui-Gon wanted to respond to that but Emalda’s re-emergence into the cargo bay effectively ended the conversation. She drew herself up to her full height when she caught Qui-Gon’s gaze and smiled when she caught Ben’s.
“If we are not here when you return,” said Ben. “We have gone to chase up more leads. We will have our commlinks with us.”
“You say that every time,” she reminded him.
“Makes it easier to remember,” said Ben.
“Have a good evening.”
“Good evening,” said Ben.
“Good evening,” echoed Qui-Gon, wondering if Emalda had even noticed him speaking.

She wrapped her green jacket around her, extended the ramp and disappeared into the darkness. Ben watched her leave before starting to clear the makeshift table.
“Would you like some soup?” he asked Qui-Gon as he stood.
Qui-Gon nodded and took a sip of his juice. Ben placed a bowl of hot soup in front of him. The soup was a little creamier than he preferred but it was warm. Qui-Gon ate in silence while Ben retrieved a ration bar for himself.
“These bars are about to expire,” explained Ben, in response to Qui-Gon’s questioning look. “We have to eat them soon and Emalda will replace them with fresh ones from the markets.”

They ate in silence for a while. Qui-Gon had much he wanted to say but there seemed no need to rush. There was little urgency in their lives these days.
“We need to discuss the progress of our mission,” said Qui-Gon finally.
Ben swallowed his mouthful, looking unsurprised.
“Has the New Republic Senate contacted us?” asked Ben.
“Not since the last time,” said Qui-Gon. “But our funding will not last us forever.”
“And by the time all the Senate’s sub-committees and sub-sub-committees decide to approve continuing our mission,” said Ben. “We’d all have starved to death anyway.”
“The price we pay for democracy,” agreed Qui-Gon.

Ben was silent, crumbling the end of his ration bar. He tilted his head to the side in a gesture so typical of the young, eager boy he'd trained that it made Qui-Gon’s stomach lurch. It was sometimes hard to remember that this reserved Jedi with the same blue eyes had served for a decade as a Jedi Knight in his own right.
“Do you have a suggestion?” asked Ben finally.
“After five months of investigation, we have not yet located the scientist Rivea Colash,” said Qui-Gon. “We have simply followed one vague lead after another - and while our mission is important, I am worried that we are losing our focus. We are forgetting what it means to be Jedi."
"My first impulse is to suggest that we find a place to be alone for a few months to reconnect," admitted Ben, fiddling with the wrapping from his ration bar. "The apprentices would certainly benefit from it.”
"Obi-Wan seems tired more than anything, possibly also homesick for a Jedi Temple that no longer exists," said Qui-Gon. "We also need to be more firm with Anakin. He is far too impulsive and we need to deal with it.”
“We?” asked Ben.
His tone was mildly questioning but Qui-Gon thought a hurt expression might have crossed Ben’s face but it was too brief to be sure.
"I'm still not sure that we can justify abandoning the mission yet," said Ben quickly, not looking Qui-Gon in the eye. "Emalda is depending on our assistance."

Ben's fingers stilled and he stood up and walked across the room to drop the wrapper in a disposal unit. Qui-Gon waited for Ben to sit down again before answering.
"Emalda has her own reasons for joining this mission," Qui-Gon reminded him. "Dr Colash is her mother. We should not get too attached - to her or the mission."
“I understand that, Qui-Gon,” said Ben, looking a little defensive. “But we must also keep in mind that the Fahren belongs to Emalda. If we choose to leave the mission, we must first find alternative transport. And where would we go, if we decided to cease following the trail?"
“Why go anywhere? This planet is in a relatively calm region of space. It’s pleasant and out of the way.”
Ben turned his gaze to the wall, “How would we support ourselves?”
Qui-Gon had the distinct feeling that Ben was avoiding a discussion of Anakin’s training. Qui-Gon decided to let him do so for now.
“When researching this planet, I noticed that there is a labour shortage in many of the farming communities,” offered Qui-Gon.

Ben stroked his beard as he considered this possibility. He gazed off into the middle-distance, perhaps imagining life as a farmer. He didn’t seem happy about the prospect.
“There is a lot of seasonal work around,” said Qui-Gon. “We wouldn’t have to commit to any form of contract or long-term employment.”
Ben’s gaze flicked to Qui-Gon and then back to the wall.
“How about we give it two more days?” suggested Qui-Gon. “If we do not find another lead here within two days, we shall go into the countryside and find work."
Ben nodded, reluctantly, “Agreed. Two days.”

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 |

Star Wars: A Galaxy Not Their Own (6/33)

2013-02-05T12:34:57Z

Star Wars: A Galaxy Not Their Own (6/33)
Rating: T for teen, involves canon level of violence
Spoilers: Spoilers for the movies and some minor EU references.
Summary: Stranded in the future, Anakin and Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon struggle to work together to complete a mission for the New Republic.
Obi-Wan/OFC, if you squint hints of Anakin/Obi-Wan pre-slash
Disclaimer: Most of the Star Wars universe belongs to George Lucas and Twentieth Century Fox - except for the Ekash. If George Lucas wants to borrow the Ekash, he may. Anybody else has to ask first. This author uses these works without permission and for non-profit purposes.

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 |

Emalda opened her eyes, her night vision filtering the view of the darkened cabin through shades of green and black. She rolled onto her side and closed her eyes again, hoping she’d go back to sleep. A minute or two of staring at the back of her own eyelids made her give up. She was awake whether she wanted to be or not. Still she lingered in the bunk, tail twitching as her eyes fixing on the glowing graffiti written across the roof of the bunk. The inscriptions had been made with a luminous ink that was only visible to Ekash eyes. Emalda’s four companions may have been Jedi but they were all still human.

During the time of the Empire, the Ekash had done all they could to capitalise on their physical resemblance to the human race that the Empire heavily favoured. With furry tails disguised beneath clothing and contact lenses covering their slitted pupils, they had easily passed as a race of sandy-haired humans. The solution, however, had proved as harsh as the threat itself. Successive Ekash governments had censored and restricted the development of their own culture - language, music, fashion, science and philosophy. The uncensored inscriptions on the bunk above her had been written in her native tongue of Jalul; something she had not spoken aloud in eight years. At reading one of the dirtier jokes, she snickered to herself before looking to see if anybody was awake to hear.

As soon as Emalda had discovered the graffiti above the top bunk in the right wall, she had insisted on claiming it - despite the awkwardness of reaching it. She still didn’t know what the Jedi thought of her sudden eagerness to sleep there. They kept their own counsel and Emalda was out of practice when it came to inviting conversation. Normally, Anakin occupied the top middle bunk but the bed was empty, except for creased sheets and an indented pillow. With bad grace, Emalda gave into the inevitable and sat up. She pushed off her blanket, grateful that the air was cool but not cold. She swung down from her bunk until her bare feet encountered the bunk below her. Ben usually slept there, with his shockingly clear blue eyes and the first beard Emalda had ever seen - the Ekash never grew beards. He was gone but warmth still lingered in the blankets when she reached out to touch them with her toes.

When her feet abandoned Ben’s bedding for the cabin floor, the metal surface was freezing. She curled up her toes and bit back an exclamation. She released her grip on the bunk above her and nearly trod on a sleeping Anakin. Anakin had curled up on the cabin floor between Ben and Obi-Wan’s bunks. His blanket protected him from the chill of the floor, with one of his own arms acting as a pillow. The small thin braid that was the mark of his apprenticeship to Ben lay across his face. Emalda quashed an impulse to tuck the braid behind his ear - he was no child and Emalda was no mother.

She stepped over him. Obi-Wan lay on his back on the bottom-middle bunk, the blanket pulled all the way up to his chin. He continued to snore softly as Emalda passed him. Qui-Gon was folded awkwardly into the bottom bunk of the left wall. He didn’t stir as she opened the door and entered the dimly lit cargo bay. Anakin had dubbed it the "cargo closet" because of its small size. Even Emalda had begun to use the term, much to her own chagrin. The Fahren may have been her ship but she and the Jedi had been virtually confined in the small space for the past five months. It was impossible to find a part of the ship that she didn’t now associate with the Jedi; Qui-Gon meditating in the sleeping quarters, Obi-Wan wrestling with the nav computer, Ben practicing with his lightsaber in the cargo bay. Emalda was happy to share the Fahren as an asset for a joint cause but she wasn’t sure how she felt about sharing the actual experience of the ship.

Emalda had left her home world with little more than the clothes she’d been wearing. The only item of any value she had was the Fahren itself, designed and built by her dead sister, Yulana. The Jedi similarly had few possessions but she wasn’t courageous enough to ask why. Ben had described a lifetime of travelling the galaxy and that the acquisition of material wealth was considered a distraction from the religious ideals of the Jedi. He had never once made a reference to the Emperor’s destruction of the Jedi Order and she certainly had never brought it up.

She navigated through the stacks of crates they'd used to partition the cargo bay into smaller areas, heading towards the crates that held their personal belongings. She opened the crate that she’d claimed as her own and pulled out a change of clothes, examining them critically. She chose a dark grey tunic and pants that had been gifts from Leia. They weren’t particularly fashionable but not long enough out of fashion to make Emalda stand out from a crowd. The scuffed work boots had been her first purchase in preparation for this mission. They were good quality and would last for many years yet. The last piece of clothing she pulled out was a bottle-green jacket that reached down to her knees. With the stitching coming loose, it was beginning to look a little worse for wear but it had belonged to Emalda for more years than she could remember.

She picked up the case containing the contact lenses that allowed her to pass for human but then put it back, unopened. She felt like taking a risk this morning.
“Good morning,” said a voice dryly. “Although it’s closer to evening, really.”
Emalda jumped, startled. She edged around the stack of crates to find the speaker. Ben was sitting on a low crate, using another crate for a table. A bowl of soup rested on the makeshift table along with a jug of juice and a cup. Ben’s expression was polite and dignified but there was a twinkle in the blue eyes and a hint of a smile hiding behind the beard. He knew very well that he’d surprised her. It was difficult for Emalda to suppress an answering smile but she kept her face grim.

“You surprised me,” she said sternly.
“Yes,” agreed Ben, unconcerned.
“That wasn’t very nice.”
Ben searched her expression, trying to tell if she was joking. She determinedly kept her face still. Ben’s eyes flickered but trying to understand what it meant was like trying to read a blank screen.
“Perhaps not,” Ben added at last.
It was the closest to an apology as Emalda was ever likely to get. She had just successfully bluffed a Jedi Knight.
She stepped forward, “Well, I guess you could make it up to me...”
The grin escaped, ruining her stern expression. Ben answered her with a grin of his own, appreciating the attempt to bluff. She expected retaliation to be swift.
“And how exactly can I do that?” he asked, his expression just a little too friendly and earnest.

Without waiting for an answer, he pulled another crate into place beside him and gestured for her to sit. She did so, laying the bundle of clothes in her lap. He then sat back and looked at her. She realised that he was expecting her to name her price.
“You could share your soup,” she suggested hesitantly.
“I could indeed do that,” said Ben, handing her a spoon.
She took the spoon cautiously and Ben sat back, folding his arms. He was watching her. She waited for another comment but Ben said nothing. Emalda stretched out her hand and scooped up a spoonful of hot soup. He watched her lift it to her mouth, tip the soup out and swallow. He was still not moving, just watching. She stretched out the spoon again. Ben’s eyes followed her movements. She took another spoonful. Ben's eyes were starting to unnerve her so she shut her eyes and focused on the taste of the soup.

The soup was rich and creamy and full of herbs that she'd never tasted before. Since leaving her home planet five months ago, Emalda had been exposed to hundreds of foods she'd never tasted before. She liked this one. She opened her eyes again. Ben was still watching her. He'd brought one of his legs up to rest it on his other knee. The casual posture was at odds with the unblinking gaze. She was never quite sure where she stood with Ben. She was aware that part of her attraction to him was undoubtedly because his sandy brown hair closely resembled the hair colour that all Ekash shared, without exception. The distinctly human blue eyes and beard had taken longer to get used to but less time than she had expected.

She could feel his keen interest in her as a physical certainty and she was Force-sensitive enough that she trusted her instincts. At first, she was sure it was physical attraction but he had yet to make any advances. His unruffled self-confidence had made her hesitate to make a move of her own. Instead, they played an endless and private game where the rules and the goals forever changed. Ben watched her silently for as long as it took her to finish the bowl of soup. She paused at each spoonful, giving Ben the opportunity to ask for the bowl back. When he didn't speak, she would swallow the soup. He blinked exactly four times. It took her twenty-three spoonfuls until the bowl was empty.
"Well, it seems I've drunk all your soup," she told him.
Ben smiled, "Actually, I got that bowl just for you. I ate earlier."
She gave him her best scowl. He laughed.

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 |

Star Wars: A Galaxy Not Their Own (5/33)

2013-01-31T17:15:43Z

Star Wars: A Galaxy Not Their Own (5/33)
Rating: T for teen, involves canon level of violence
Spoilers: Spoilers for the movies and some minor EU references.
Summary: Stranded in the future, Anakin and Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon struggle to work together to complete a mission for the New Republic.
Obi-Wan/OFC, if you squint hints of Anakin/Obi-Wan pre-slash
Disclaimer: Most of the Star Wars universe belongs to George Lucas and Twentieth Century Fox - except for the Ekash. If George Lucas wants to borrow the Ekash, he may. Anybody else has to ask first. This author uses these works without permission and for non-profit purposes.

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

It has been five months since the Jedi accepted a mission from the New
Republic Senate to track down the missing Ekash weapons scientist Dr Rivea Colash.
Dr Colash's daughter, Emalda, aids them in their search and has volunteered the use of her
ship. The trail has led them outside of New Republic space, to the newly settled world of Wefhuk…

Anakin was standing on the planet of Tattooine, the planet of his childhood. The winds were whipping the desert sands into a monstrous storm, which moved with a life of its own. The sand battered him in waves, but it didn't sting his skin as sharply as he remembered. With his hood up and his eyes half-open, he could see little as he shuffled across the desert. The wind shifted and through the haze an indistinct shape appeared on the horizon. As he walked towards it the shape solidified into a squat, weathered moisture farm. A line of stone stairs led down to a sheltered entranceway, below the level of the desert sands. Anakin walked down the steps, letting his hood fall back as the entranceway blocked the worst of the wind. The door slid open at his approach. Anakin considered this proof that he was dreaming, because nobody who had sand people for neighbours ever left their doors unlocked. He crossed the threshold tentatively and the door slid shut behind him. He walked on down the corridor, the noise of the storm outside muffled by the walls. Anakin couldn't hear the roar of the sand beating on the walls or the wind whistling across the roof. It was dead silent inside the farm.

Somebody started laughing, the sound bouncing and echoing around the small building. Anakin walked faster as he recognised the high, tinkling laughter of a woman. The corridor ended abruptly and Anakin stumbled ungracefully down the step into the living area. A woman stood in the centre of the wide room with her back to him. Her dark hair curled and cascaded down her back, contrasting sharply with her soft, white tunic. She was cradling a baby in her arms and singing softly. A moment of thought and Anakin recognized it as a Naboo lullaby.
“Padme?”
The woman raised her head and turned to look at him. For a moment, he thought he was right and that he had been reunited with the woman he hadn’t seen since he was nine years old. Then he recognized that it was Leia’s face that was watching him with an indulgent smile. Anakin tried not to look too disappointed but Leia must have seen because she sighed and shook her head at him. She looked down at the baby in her arms and turned away from him again.
“Where are we?” Anakin asked her.

Leia turned back to him but it wasn’t Leia anymore. It was Anakin’s mother, Shmi Skywalker. She clasped her hands together in welcome, the baby gone. She crossed the floor towards him, long skirts sweeping the carpet. She looked younger than he remembered - radiant. Echoing Leia’s indulgent smile, his mother raised a hand to touch his cheek. Her touch was cold and dusty. Anakin had to look again at her hands to reassure himself that there was still flesh on them.
“You don’t need to be here, Ani,” she said, her rich accent flowing over him. “You’re needed elsewhere.”
Anakin just stared at her, trying not to flinch as her stale hand stroked his brow.
“My handsome boy...” she whispered.
She seemed to catch herself and pulled her hand back abruptly. She gazed at him intently, trying to memorize his facial features. Then she smiled, satisfied, and walked out of the living area.

Anakin raised his own hand to his cheek, relieved to feel the warmth of his own fingers. He looked around the living area, noting for the first time the scorch marks on the pale white walls. Tables were over-turned, chairs broken and ornaments had been swept from a tabletop to the ground. The room was full of signs of violence that had - or would - happen in this home.
“Ani, are you in there?” called a new voice.
This was not the voice of a woman but the voice of a young man. The echo of the corridor garbled it but Anakin could already recognise this particular presence. It was Obi-Wan Kenobi, the young twenty year old Jedi Apprentice that Anakin had been introduced to all those years ago.

Anakin walked out of the living area, wondering bemusedly where his mother had gone to. He found Obi-Wan standing in the middle of the courtyard under the open sky, a Padawan braid resting lightly on his shoulder. The desert storm had stopped and the stars twinkled at them from above. Anakin had not seen Tattooine’s skies since he was a boy but the constellations were all achingly familiar. Anakin tore his gaze away from the night sky to look at Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan’s normally serious face was upturned to the night sky as well. He glanced to Anakin with his eyes and smiled, his eyes shining with a joy that had become less and less common when he had achieved knighthood.
“Beautiful night, Ani,” said Obi-Wan, breathless in his honesty.
“Beyond compare,” agreed Anakin, though he was more interested in studying his fellow Padawan.
Obi-Wan frowned, tilting his head as if listening. He looked at Anakin, curiously.
“Ani, do you sense that? A vague... sense of danger?”

Anakin closed his eyes and felt his awareness of the Force surge to the front of his mind. He felt it in his bones and imagined it as a thousand splintered colours in his mind’s eye. He sensed the vibrant, living Force presence of Obi-Wan. Anakin knew that the Force could not be seen but it pleased him to visualise Obi-Wan as a pulsing blue spirit. He could sense the dull, nebulous background of the planet’s own energy but nothing else - not even his mother. When Anakin opened his eyes again, Obi-Wan was backing away from him warily. His eyes were locked on Anakin and his entire body was tensed for a fight.
“It’s behind you,” said Obi-Wan, his voice tight and his accent crisp.
Anakin turned but there was nothing there. Obi-Wan was still backing away but had already reached the other side of the courtyard. The fear on Obi-Wan’s face had faded to be replaced by a neutral mask but Anakin could see a flicker of deep concentration in those blue eyes.
“There is darkness there,” Obi-Wan whispered, frozen in place on the other side of the courtyard.
The stars above them seemed to dim, deepening the shadows. Anakin shook his head to clear it.
“It’s no darker over here than it is where you are,” said Anakin lightly.

He had seen moisture farms at night and it wasn’t quite enough to scare him. Anakin’s breath puffed out as frosty mist and he couldn’t remember it getting so cold.
“Where I am?” Obi-Wan asked, his eyes widening in horror.
Obi-Wan turned slowly to gaze around him as if he expected the sand-floor to rise up and swallow him. His gaze locked on the darkened speeder bay entrance behind him. Anakin watched as a shadow detached itself from the darkness and walked towards Obi-Wan. The sound of heavy breathing reached Anakin’s ears - a heavy, slow passage of air through machinery. As the indistinct black shape moved, it fluttered at the edges as if buffeted by an invisible wind. As it continued to approach Obi-Wan, Anakin found that he couldn’t move.
“Obi, move. Get out of here!”
Anakin tried to shout but all that came out was a hoarse whisper.

Regardless, Obi-Wan seemed to hear him. Obi-Wan turned to look at Anakin helplessly, giving the shadow time to move closer. Obi-Wan turned back to the shadow just as it stopped directly in front of him, breathing and heaving. There was the distinctive snap-hiss of a lightsaber igniting. A cruel, bright red blade crackled angrily in the night air. It illuminated the face of Qui-Gon Jinn, his features hollowed and ghoulish. As the stars darkened completely, Anakin watched the blade swing through the air towards Obi-Wan’s body.

Anakin managed to propel himself forward, a cry of denial on his lips - when he hit the cold floor. Anakin pried one eye open and looked around. He was still in the Fahren’s crowded little sleeping cabin. A tussled head popped over the edge of the nearest bunk, blinking sleepily.
“Are you all right, Ani?”
“Fine, Obi. Just a bad dream.”
Obi-Wan blinked, grunted, and rolled over. Within seconds his breathing had evened out into sleep. Anakin stayed where he was, looking up at his own bunk and wondering why his mind liked to taunt him in his sleep.

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

Star Wars: A Galaxy Not Their Own (4/33)

2013-01-26T15:37:50Z

Star Wars: A Galaxy Not Their Own (4/33)
Rating: T for teen, involves canon level of violence
Spoilers: Spoilers for the movies and some minor EU references.
Summary: Stranded in the future, Anakin and Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon struggle to work together to complete a mission for the New Republic.
Obi-Wan/OFC, if you squint hints of Anakin/Obi-Wan pre-slash
Disclaimer: Most of the Star Wars universe belongs to George Lucas and Twentieth Century Fox - except for the Ekash. If George Lucas wants to borrow the Ekash, he may. Anybody else has to ask first. This author uses these works without permission and for non-profit purposes.

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 |

Anakin stood on the landing pad, watching the techs prepare the Fahren for launch. He could have done it himself but the techs had made it clear, without speaking, that his assistance wasn't needed. Instead, Anakin had taken a step backwards and enjoyed the moment. A light breeze was whistling between the buildings. The landing pad was bustling and busy, running to its own rhythm. It reminded him of the frantic pace of working in Watto's garage - life there had never been easy but there had been no shortage of broken machinery to occupy his little hands. Being in the middle of all the activity was more soothing than the most silent of meditation rooms that the Jedi Temple had to offer.
"It's good to smell fresh air again," said Anakin. "Isn't it?"
Beside him, Obi-Wan was grinning and leaning against the railing to watch the traffic flying past.
"After eight months in quarantine, being anywhere feels fantastic," agreed Obi-Wan.
"I was beginning to think they might never let us out," said Anakin.
"Well," said Obi-Wan. "To be fair, I don't think they have to enforce a time travel quarantine that often."
"That often?" snorted Anakin. "I think they had to write new legislation just to make it legal."
"I think they were hoping if they locked us in for long enough, we'd just disappear of our own accord."

Anakin held out his hands and subjected them to a thorough examination.
"No," said Anakin, finally. "Still here."
Obi-Wan laughed, convincing Anakin that was all was okay with the world. Anakin had never really thought seriously about what his mentor had been like as an apprentice himself. After being confined together in close quarters for so long, Anakin was pleased to discover that they enjoyed each other's company. Young Obi-Wan had the same seriousness as the older Obi-Wan, but he was a little quicker to laugh or smile and far less confident of his own abilities.

Obi-Wan's smile dimmed slightly as he glanced over Anakin's shoulder. Obi-Wan straightened from the position where he'd been lounging against the railing. Anakin didn't even need to look to know that this meant one of the older Jedi was approaching. Anakin turned, recognising his own Master approaching. This was the Obi-Wan Kenobi that he had known for half his life, who had trained him and raised him. He was nearly ten years older and a fully fledged Jedi knight. They had taken to calling this older Obi-Wan 'Ben'. To the rest of the galaxy, Ben and Obi-Wan were considered the descendents of a Jedi Master from the Clone Wars. Less than twenty people knew that all three were actually the same person, from different time periods. Some miracle of the Force had brought them here in response to Leia's call for help, on this point they were all agreed - they just had no believable explanation for why they were still here.

The woman who would be the final member of their mission walked beside Ben, duffel bag over her shoulder and a green coat wrapped tightly around her body as if to ward off the cold. She was dressed for practicality, in plain clothes and sturdy boots with her sandy hair tied back. She wore no make-up but the edges of her fringe were braided, beaded, and tucked behind her ears. She was about five inches shorter than Ben, coming only up to his shoulder - all the more obvious as she walked so close to him that the two were almost touching. To the uninitiated, she could have been taken for a human woman like any other in the galaxy. The truth was that she was a refugee from her homeworld and of a near-human species known as the Ekash. Anakin and Obi-Wan had met her when they arrived but had not seen her in person during the long months of quarantine. Anakin thought she looked fitter and healthier than when he'd first seen her, though she still watched her surroundings with a nervous energy.

"Padawans," smiled Ben, inclining his head in greeting.
"Master," responded Anakin warmly.
Obi-Wan inclined his head formally, "Master Kenobi."
Emalda came to an awkward stop beside Ben, most of her attention on the techs surrounding the ship.
"Enjoying the fresh air?" asked Ben.
"Making the most of it before we board the ship," said Anakin.
"Coruscant and fresh air are not words often found together," said Obi-Wan dryly.
Ben chuckled in amusement, "Some things never change."

"I take it the both of you remember Emalda Colash?" asked Ben, placing a careful hand on Emalda's shoulder.
Emalda flinched at the casual touch before relaxing and turning a shy smile of apology on Ben. She took a deep breath before making eye-contact with Anakin and Obi-Wan.
"Padawans," she said, bobbing her head sharply.
"Miss Colash," said Obi-Wan.
"Miss Colash," echoed Anakin. "How has the Fahren been holding up while we've been... away?"
Emalda's expression brightened.
"I have been roughening out some of the edges," said Emalda. "But I haven't been able to fly it as much as I'd like."
"That's a shame," said Anakin. "A ship like her shouldn't be grounded. It's just wrong."
"She belongs in space," said Emalda. "I... haven't really had anywhere to take her."
"Leia... I mean, Minister Organa-Solo, said that you were busy doing some administrative work for her office."
Emalda snorted, probably the most natural response Anakin had ever seen her give.
She stiffened up again, "I'm not really suited to administrative work."

Tightening her grip on her duffel bag, Emalda walked up the ramp into the Fahren. Anakin made as if to follow her but Ben put a restraining hand on his arm.
"Give her a moment," said Ben. "She doesn't mean to be so abrupt."
"Of course she doesn't," said Anakin. "She's still getting used to being around so many people."
Ben looked impressed and released Anakin's arm. Anakin couldn't help returning the smile but still wondered why stating the obvious had triggered it.

"Have you had a chance to transfer your belongings onboard?" asked Ben.
"Not yet, Master," said Anakin. "We were waiting for Miss Colash."
"Well, we had best join her," said Ben. "There's no telling how long we'll be on board."
"Have you seen Master Qui-Gon?" asked Obi-Wan.
"I believe Leia needed to discuss something with him," said Ben. "He should be down shortly."
Anakin followed Ben's gaze to see Qui-Gon watching them through a distant window. It could have been his imagination but he thought that Qui-Gon's stern gaze was focused on him. He shrugged away his discomfort to walk up the Fahren's ramp side by side with Obi-Wan.

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 |

Star Wars fic: A Galaxy Not Their Own (3/33)

2013-01-23T14:06:36Z

Star Wars: A Galaxy Not Their Own (3/33)
Rating: T for teen, involves canon level of violence
Spoilers: Spoilers for the movies and some minor EU references.
Summary: Stranded in the future, Obi-Wan, Anakin and Qui-Gon struggle with each other as much as the mission given to them by the New Republic.
Obi-Wan/OFC, if you squint hints of Anakin/Obi-Wan pre-slash
Disclaimer: Most of the Star Wars universe belongs to George Lucas and Twentieth Century Fox - except for the Ekash. If George Lucas wants to borrow the Ekash, he may. Anybody else has to ask first. This author uses these works without permission and for non-profit purposes.

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 |

Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn stood by the window, the landscape of Coruscant familiar enough to make the changes all the more disturbing. The capital of the New Republic was still the planet on which he had grown up but he’d missed more than four decades of its history, including a great deal of war and upheaval. There were new buildings where he looked for the familiar and old ones to jar him out of the new horizon. He still could not overcome the urge to scan for the silhouette of the Jedi Temple.

Below him a landing pad extended from the building, several people scurrying about to prepare the small spacecraft Fahren for launch. The pace of life on Coruscant was one of the things that certainly hadn’t changed. Two young men in Jedi robes stood restlessly by the Fahren, directing the workcrews and frequently breaking off to consult one another. As Qui-Gon watched, one of the young men gestured to the workcrews with his arm. He was Obi-Wan Kenobi and had been Qui-Gon’s apprentice since he was thirteen. At twenty-five, Obi-Wan was nearing the end of his apprenticeship; or had been before they had been transported through time. There was no Jedi Order in this future, let alone a High Council to award a Knighthood. Qui-Gon had no way of knowing what this meant for his apprentice’s future and he found the uncertainty unsettling.

Down below, Obi-Wan froze with his arm outstretched as his taller companion spoke up. His companion was Anakin Skywalker, an intense young apprentice with the potential to become more powerful than any other Jedi Qui-Gon had ever met. He was a cocky twenty year old but had a directness that Qui-Gon appreciated. Anakin had come from ten years into Qui-Gon’s future, which still meant he had experienced a jump of thirty-four years to arrive in the current time period. Obi-Wan dropped his arm and tilted his head to the side as he and Anakin discussed something intently. The workcrews paused at the halt in the flow of directions, exchanging glances. Qui-Gon smiled to himself as the workcrews moved as one to resume their duties, the two apprentices too distracted by their discussion to notice.

The door behind Qui-Gon slid open and he turned to see Leia Organa-Solo paused in the doorway. His smile was genuine as he recognised her. Less than half Qui-Gon’s age, she already possessed a formidable range of talents; war veteran, aristocrat, senator, ambassador, wife and mother. Qui-Gon had known her less than a month before she had been elected as the New Republic’s Chief of State. Once she had assumed her new duties, he had seen very little of her.
“Master Jinn,” she said politely, inclining her head in greeting.
She looked tired, dark circles marring the skin beneath her eyes.
“Your Excellency,” he said, bowing. “We didn’t think you would find the time to see us off.”
“I’m afraid I can’t,” she said, crossing into the room. “I only have a minute to spare from my schedule. C3-PO’s waiting outside to let me know when my time is up.”
“Would you like me to call Anakin up?” asked Qui-Gon.
Leia hesitated, folding her hands together in front of her.
“No, there won’t be enough time,” said Leia. “We said our farewells earlier.”

Leia moved to stand beside him, looking down at the landing platform where Anakin and Obi-Wan had only just noticed that the workcrews had nearly finished prepping the Fahren for launch. They watched in silence for a moment as Obi-Wan and Anakin bent their heads close once again to decide what to do about the workcrews. Qui-Gon couldn’t help but notice that Leia’s gaze was drawn to Anakin, as it always was. Leia had been careful and considered in the information she had shared with them. She had told them some of the history they had missed, but had withheld other things from them. She had asked that they trust her judgement and Qui-Gon had complied.

“Actually,” said Leia, her perfectly composed face at odds with the rising apprehension Qui-Gon sensed. “There was a matter I wanted to discuss with you before you leave.”
She turned away from the window to face him, studying him carefully. Qui-Gon resisted the urge to prompt her. She pursed her lips and glanced out the window again before turning back to him.
“I’m not sure I should mention this,” she said. “But I fear the consequences of not speaking of it just as much. When you leave on this mission, I won’t be there to advise you.”
“You’re afraid we’ll damage the timeline?” asked Qui-Gon. “We have already been here a year and have been exposed to quite a bit of the future already, accidentally and deliberately. Is there anything you can tell us that we aren’t likely to find out ourselves, eventually?”

Leia smiled softly, “Not everything is general knowledge. We have kept some personal and private details from you.”
“You must do what you think is right, of course,” said Qui-Gon evenly, beginning to feel the stirrings of curiosity.
“I’m worried about the timeline and events that happened before,” said Leia. “I’m worried that if I say anything I may accidentally influence the situation and bring about the very thing I am attempting to avoid.”
“This is starting to sound like quite the dilemma,” said Qui-Gon. “The only piece of advice I can offer is to trust your instincts.”
Leia smiled, “That is why I have come to talk to you. I am... concerned for Anakin and his future as a Jedi.”
“And you don’t want to talk to Anakin or Ben about this?”

Leia looked out the window, watching Anakin scowl as Obi-Wan joked with the workcrews. She reached out a hand towards the glass, as if to reach Anakin himself but jerked it back when she realised what she was doing.
“Master Jinn,” she said. “I know that Anakin already has Ben for a Master but... He’s young and naïve. He would be... easily swayed by outside influences.”
Leia’s voice had turned brittle and it was clear that she was tempted to say a lot more than she was. It was also clear that she was scared she had said too much.

Qui-Gon frowned and looked down to see Anakin smiling reluctantly at Obi-Wan. Anakin’s connection to the Force blazed and flowed effortlessly through his every action. Qui-Gon felt a shudder ran through him. He did not like to contemplate what kind of outside influences might find such a powerful apprentice useful.
“I will do my best to watch out for him,” said Qui-Gon, laying a hand gently on Leia’s shoulder. “You have my word.”
She released a breath and nodded. She stood a little taller, relaxing with the comfort of one who knows that at least one of her burdens has been relieved.
“Thank you,” she said, resting her own hand on Qui-Gon’s shoulder. “And may the Force be with you. All of you.”
“And also with you.”
She inclined her head and departed, leaving Qui-Gon alone again at the window.

He watched with his arms folded as the rest of his party gathered by the Fahren. They had been offered a mission by the New Republic Senate and had accepted, primarily for the opportunity to leave Coruscant. Luke Skywalker had offered them a place at his new Jedi Academy but the suggestion had grated and Qui-Gon could not bring himself to accept it.

“There is another possibility,” Luke had said, an boyish eagerness lighting up in his normally serious face. “You would be welcome at the Jedi Academy.”
Qui-Gon could not help the laughter that burst from him, his mind freely supplying images of younglings crowding around his feet and tripping him over. His laughter died as he remembered that many of Luke’s students would not be Temple Initiates raised to the Jedi way since childhood. Instead they would be a motley collection of Force-sensitive adults, gathered together in the forlorn hope that they could recreate what had been destroyed so thoroughly by the Sith. Qui-Gon shuddered.
“Train an entire Jedi Order?” Qui-Gon asked. “At this point, I'm questioning my own purpose. No, I would not be a good teacher and anyway, Obi-Wan must be my priority until he is knighted.”
Luke had looked disappointed but not surprised at his decision. He had reluctantly agreed with Qui-Gon’s feeling that the time was not right. Qui-Gon had not voiced the thought that it might never be the right time.

Qui-Gon turned away from the window and headed down to join his companions on the landing platform. He had very little idea of where they might eventually end up but the prospect of a mission and of being on the move again called to him. There was a transformed galaxy awaiting them and he had every intention of being up to the challenge.

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 |

Star Wars fic: A Galaxy Not Their Own (2/33)

2013-01-20T15:56:03Z

Star Wars: A Galaxy Not Their Own (2/33)
Rating: T for teen, involves canon level of violence
Spoilers: Spoilers for the movies and some minor EU references.
Summary: Stranded in the future, Obi-Wan, Anakin and Qui-Gon struggle with each other as much as the mission given to them by the New Republic.
Obi-Wan/OFC, if you squint hints of Anakin/Obi-Wan pre-slash
Disclaimer: Most of the Star Wars universe belongs to George Lucas and Twentieth Century Fox - except for the Ekash. If George Lucas wants to borrow the Ekash, he may. Anybody else has to ask first. This author uses these works without permission and for non-profit purposes.

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3

Emalda watched from the cockpit as the cargo ship raced above the canopy of a purple rainforest. She clung to the seat in front of her, blinking at the alien crew around her. The co-pilot was a wookie, dark, towering and wild with one massive arm in a sling. His howling set her teeth on edge. The Captain was a human with a bleeding cut over his eye, a tendency to talk and the darkest hair colour that Emalda had ever seen. She'd heard rumours that humans had different hair colours, like black or so blond that it was white but she wasn't sure if she believed it.

Emalda had chosen to run for her life rather than ask their names. The only one who had introduced himself was the other passenger - a human man with the sandy-coloured hair that was the only shade that Emalda was used to. Named Ben, he was friendly but his face had made her jump the first time she'd seen it. She'd wondered if he was half-wookie until she realised that the hair on his face was a beard. Emalda had never seen a beard before either and she kept wanting to ask him if it got in the way while he was eating.
"I'm picking up cannon fire to the east," said the Captain.
The Captain jabbed at a switch irritably and the wookie rumbled out some kind of observation.
"You said it," said the Captain, his whole face twisting into a grin.

Ben wore a lightsabre on his belt, the innocuous looking weapon swaying side to side as he leaned forward in his seat to peer over the Captain's shoulder. It was another thing Emalda wanted to ask about.
"Is it inside the city?" asked Ben.
"No, just outside the city limits," said the Captain. "Nothing we have to worry about."
"Are some of your... our people involved?"
The wookie consulted the control panels before whuffling to the Captain.
"I don't recognise it...," mused the Captain. "You?"
The wookie shrugged and rumbled in the negative.
"May I look?" asked Ben. "My apprentice... borrowed a ship from Emalda here."
"Sure, knock yourself out," said the Captain, waving an arm generously.

Emalda scooted forward, anxious for news, but the console was unfamiliar. She couldn't make any sense out of it and slid back into her seat disappointed. Ben frowned at the console before turning to look at Emalda. The round pupils in his eyes were unsettling but his expression was undeniably friendly.
"The Ekash defensive towers are firing at a ship," he told Emalda. "Can you tell if it's yours?"
She leaned forward again and followed Ben's pointing finger to a display she could actually read.
"That's it," said Emalda. "That's the Fahren. What's happening?"
"It's harassing the towers quite effectively," said Ben. "But it's taking heavy fire."
"Got no back-up to speak of," said the Captain. "The nearest Squadron's at least two minutes away."
"That sounds like my apprentice."

The wookie growled an opinion.
"Yeah, that's what I was thinking," said the Captain. "We'll head over and see if we can give him a hand."
The Captain and the wookie busied themselves with changing the ship's course. Ben glanced at Emalda and smiled reassuringly at her.
"Ah hell," said the Captain sharply. "The ship's gone down."
Ben raised out of his seat, "Any chance the pilot survived?"
"Can't tell, it slammed straight into one of the towers."
Emalda wanted to ask if the ship was alright but bit her tongue. Ben looked worried, his fingers clutching at the back of the pilot's seat.
"It's taking a lot of fire from the ground forces. Wait, it's moving - just pulled clear of the rubble."

Ben sighed in relief. Emalda edged forward to try another look at the console. She could decipher the Fahren's position, much closer than when she had last looked.
"It's flying a little unsteady," said the Captain. "But it's headed out of the cannon range... no, it's veered back. Something's definitely not right."
It sounded to Emalda as if the wookie lamented this turn of events at length.
"What's your apprentice's name?" asked the Captain.
"Anakin," said Ben.
The Captain did a double-take, looking at Ben strangely, but he turned back to the controls.

"Fahren, this is the Millenium Falcon," said the Captain. "Captain Solo, speaking. Are you there, Anakin?"
There was silence from the console. Ben's grip on the seat back tightened. It was a long moment before a weary voice responded.
"Who?"
"Captain Han Solo," repeated the Captain. "Can you make it clear of the cannons?"
There was silence again.
"Anakin?"
"Yeah?"
"Are you okay, buddy?"
"I think... I hit my head."
"Can you adjust your heading to the west by a few degrees?"
"Yes."

There was a long moment before the Fahren changed course, moving back out of the cannon's range.
"Let's just hope he's not too out of it to land," said Captain Solo.
"What's the atmosphere like at this altitude?" asked Ben. "Breathable?"
"A little thinner than standard but perfectly breathable. I gotta tell you, though, I'm worried by the fact that you're asking."
"If you can get alongside," said Ben. "I'll board and see what I can do."
"In mid-flight? It's your funeral..."

Emalda spoke before she realized she'd made a decision.
"I'm going with you," she said.
All three of the others turned to look at her incredulously. The wookie's response was unintelligable but passionate.
"Let's not get carried away," said the Captain, jerking a thumb in Ben's direction. "It's a crazy move for this guy and he's a Jedi Knight."
"I can do it," said Emalda. "I'm a dancer, I've got great balance."
The Captain laughed and shared an incredulous look with the wookie. Ben was looking at her thoughtfully, tilting his head to the side. Emalda couldn't have said why she was determined to do this - but while she didn't trust other people, she trusted her own feelings.
"Very well, then," said Ben. "But it will be dangerous."
"I know," said Emalda, trying to keep her tone even and not cocky or daring: responsible was the goal.

Ben nodded and stood, leading the way from the cockpit. Emalda stood still for a moment, expecting more of an argument, and then followed hurriedly. The grumbling of the Captain and the wookie behind her were cut off by the cockpit door closing. She followed Ben through the unfamiliar ship until he reached a service lift that would take them to the ship's exterior. It was a small circular platform that would be a tight fit for the both of them. Ben backed onto the platform, leaning against the far wall.
"I'm going now," he said. "Are you coming?"
"Yes," said Emalda, ignoring the hammering of her heart as she stepped up onto the platform beside him.
They weren't quite touching but there was no room to move as the platform started to rise. There was a tug on Emalda's belt and she looked down to see Ben clipping a safety line to her.

"If you decide to stay," said Ben, handing her a headset. "The blue switch will lower the platform back down."
"I won't..." began Emalda.
Then the exterior hatch opened and the rest of her words were drowned out by the rushing of the wind. Her hair whipped around her face and she wondered why she hadn't thought to tie it up beforehand. Without a tether of his own, Ben lowered himself into a crouch. The wind ruffled not only the hair on his head but also his beard. Emalda might have laughed aloud but she couldn't hear herself to know for sure. Ben pulled on his own headset and squinted into the wind. Emalda followed his gaze and froze in amazement.

The Millenium Falcon was flying over the Ekash jungle, a breathtaking view while stationary; let alone while roaring over at speed. She'd never seen it from this high before, it seemed to stretch out to the horizon itself. In the distance, a couple of large ats took flight on their leathery wings. Their three metre wingspans looked tiny from this distance. Her view of the ats was obscured as the Millenium Falcon drew level with the Fahren. The Fahren's normally silver exterior was marred with scarring and debris. Some of the gold and green trim was still visible as it danced up and down the wings but the intricate knots that had decorated the nose had been completely obscured.

Ben was already moving across the Falcon in a crouch. When he was an arm's length from the edge he raised a hand to his headset. Emalda couldn't hear what he said but the Falcon climbed slightly so that the edge nearest Ben was hovering just above and in front of one of the Fahren's wings. Ben looked over at Emalda and smiled. Then he launched himself off the edge. He was just gone. Emalda might have screamed, she wasn't sure. She still couldn't hear anything.

Emalda took a step towards the edge where Ben had disappeared, not knowing what she intended to do. The world tilted precariously and she dropped to all fours. The wind was still roaring, the jungle still speeding past and Ben was gone. She edged forward and the tether pulled tight against her belt. She unclipped it. There was nothing now to save her from falling to her death and she lay flat on her stomach, wiggling forward like a worm and digging her fingers into any handhold the ship's surface offered. She crawled to within arms reach of the edge before she finally saw Ben edging up the Fahren's wing beneath her. He was moving in a cautious but steady crouch, heading for a hatch on the Fahren. He stopped and waved at her, his concerned frown visible even from this distance.

Emalda looked down at the Fahren's wing. It wasn't a long distance. She knew from a lifetime of pushing her body to the limits that she could easily jump three times the distance. It was just that normally if she failed a move, her peers laughed and she got a sick angry/guilty feeling in her stomach while she was reprimanded - she didn't fall to her death in the middle of a war zone surrounded by aliens whose names she didn't even know. She knew Ben's name, though. He had turned away from her and was trying to open the Fahren's hatch. It was taking some time, probably because he was human. The Fahren's access panels were labelled in the local dialect of Jalul, which not even all the Ekash were fluent in.

She fixed her eyes on a black scuff mark on the Fahren's wingtip. She made it the centre of her focus. She didn't block out the endless movement and noise that surrounded her but she let it fade into the periphery.
Focus, she told herself. Emalda Colash, you've got this.
She didn't think, she let her body run through a leap and forward roll that she'd done countless times before the military had shut down the dance halls. She was starting to straighten up again to bow to an imaginary audience when her brain caught up with her actions. She laughed a little hysterically before pressing her body and face firmly into the Fahren below her.

A hand gripped her wrist and she looked up to see Ben crouching next to her, looking... impressed? He waved at the hatch and Emalda obligingly slid forward to enter the unlocking code. Her muscles locked up at that point and Ben was the one to drag her inside the hatch, not letting go until they were inside and the roaring of the wind had fallen silent. He gave her a reassuring squeeze before striding off into the ship, smooth and graceful.

Emalda followed when she felt able, her heart beating in her chest. From inside there didn't seem to be any damage to the Fahren, other than a few indicator lights that were flashing. The cockpit door was open when she reached it, an Ekash in a military uniform sprawled in the doorway. His uniform was burned in a blackened line across his chest. She didn't want to look too close to see how deep the burn went. He wasn't breathing and he wasn't going to get up and hurt her, and that was all she needed to know.

She stepped across the body and into the cockpit. Ben was at the controls but it was clear that most of his attention was on the figure slumped unconscious in the pilot seat. Emalda joined Ben, sliding her fingers under his to take over the Fahren. Ben gave up the pilot seat and turned to the unconscious figure.
"Anakin?" asked Ben gently, sliding a hand under the unconscious man's chin. "Can you hear me?"
Anakin's eyes fluttered, and focused with effort on Ben's face.
"Master Obi..." began Anakin.
Ben hushed him, a finger against his lips.
"It's Ben," said Ben. "If anybody asks, it's Ben. Understood?"
Anakin's eyebrows drew together in confusion, his gaze flickering over Emalda before drifting back to Ben.
"Understood," croaked Anakin.

Anakin's head rolled bonelessly on his neck before Ben steadied it again with a gentle hand.
"How?" said Anakin. "How. When. How can we get home?"
"I'm not sure yet," said Ben, his hands dropping to check Anakin for injuries.
"Join the club," grumbled Emalda.
She laid in a course away from the planet, towards the New Republic and a new life as a political refugee.

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3

Star Wars fic: A Galaxy Not Their Own (1/33)

2013-01-16T09:02:02Z

Star Wars: A Galaxy Not Their Own
Rating: T for teen, involves canon level of violence
SPOILERS: Spoilers for the movies and some minor EU references.
SUMMARY: Stranded in the future, Obi-Wan, Anakin and Qui-Gon struggle with each other as much as the mission given to them by the New Republic.
DISCLAIMER: Most of the Star Wars universe belongs to George Lucas and Twentieth Century Fox - except for the Ekash. If George Lucas wants to borrow the Ekash, he may. Anybody else has to ask first. This author uses these works without permission and for non-profit purposes.

a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away...

Chapter 1 | 2 | Praxar felt a presence in the Force. It was some time before the thought coalesced into her consciousness. The presence was moving towards her, vibrant and alive. The lingering spirits of the Sith tried to kill any sentient being that came near and had particularly spent a good deal of their time keeping any living creature away from the dark tunnel which Praxar’s spirit inhabited. Once, a small lizard had managed to slip past the Sith’s malevolent guard and Praxar had felt nearly overwhelmed at the sheer life in the precious little creature. If she’d still had a physical body, Praxar would surely have started keening from the rawness of it.

Praxar waited, her mind awakening as a sentient being approached for the first time in centuries. An old instinct surfaced and Praxar tried to flutter her wings in anticipation before once again remembering that her body had long since been absorbed into the Force. It had been a lonely transition into the Force, stranded behind enemy lines in a war she’d long ago forgotten the reason for. The mines of this planet had reminded her of the tunnels of her home world and it had been oddly comfortable to take her last breaths here. She often felt the powerful urge to release her hold on existence and let herself be absorbed into the Force. She promised herself that she would do so when the Sith spirits that restlessly haunted the mine also let go. As long as they lingered, she felt duty-bound to keep their ill intent to a minimum.

The sentient being stumbled into Praxar’s tunnel, a human woman in ripped clothing and an old miner’s helmet. If the lizard had nearly overwhelmed Praxar, then the woman’s mere presence was a supernova to the eyes she no longer had. This was not only a living creature, but one who was powerful in the Force. Such a woman would have made a powerful Jedi, if the Jedi Order had continued to exist in Praxar’s absence.

It was clear that the woman sensed Praxar’s presence, her gaze wide-eyed in the feeble light of the miners’ helmet. The woman stumbled forward, arms outstretched and searching along the wall. The woman’s bare fingertips brushed against the crystalline gems that marked the place where Praxar’s body had disappeared. Praxar felt surprise as the woman’s mind touched hers through the gems. The touch between them was confusing, Praxar struggling to make sense of a human mind. The woman was Praxar, Praxar was Leia. Praxar reordered her thoughts to make sense of it. Praxar was Praxar and the woman was Leia. Leia was untrained but powerful and brave, and clearly a creature of importance to her hive. She had fled into the mine to escape a dispute between hives, only to encounter the Sith.

Praxar channelled energy into Leia, feeling the woman’s exhaustion ease. They remained like that until Leia removed her hand from the gems, abruptly cutting off most of the sensation. Leia looked more at ease, though she still glanced at the tunnel around her in puzzlement. Her gaze was eventually drawn back to the gems. The gems glittered blue, then purple and then flushed green.

Leia’s helmet light flickered and began to die. The woman slipped the helmet off her head and began to examine the wiring by the light of the gems. Praxar was so absorbed in watching and feeling Leia’s presence, that she did not immediately take note of the Sith’s approach. The Sith had approached Praxar many times over the years but had long ago lost the ability to hurt her. Leia, however, still had a body that could be damaged. Praxar tried to communicate the warning to Leia but the woman did not react. Praxar channelled her alarm into the gems and Leia finally looked up as the tunnel was bathed in red pulsing light. Disturbed, Leia put the helmet back on her head.

One of the Sith spirits materialised at the end of Praxar’s tunnel. Praxar knew that this Sith must have once had a name but its identity had eroded long ago, becoming little more than a nebulous grey mist with malevolent intent. Emitting a bleached grey light of its own, it coasted almost absently down the tunnel towards Leia. Praxar extended her thoughts down the tunnel to meet it and the Sith stopped, its limited mind confused by the blockage. At the other end of the tunnel a second Sith appeared, this one more coherent and aiming for Leia without hesitation. Praxar stretched her thoughts down to meet it. The second Sith pushed against her for a moment before also coming to a complete stop. The gems in the tunnel flashed gold with Praxar’s triumph.

Leia stood in the tunnel, her breath frosting in the coldness of the Sith. Wide-eyed, Leia looked from one Sith to the other. It was not clear how much of her situation the woman understood but she understood enough to feel the beginnings of fear. Praxar caught the edge of a thought “...Jedi...” but had no energy to pursue the rest of the woman’s mind while still holding the Sith at bay. A third and fourth Sith appeared at the end of the tunnel and Praxar felt her triumph sink to despair. They pushed at the edge of Praxar’s thoughts, edging closer and closer to Leia. Leia backed away, crouching against the gems to take shelter in what little warmth they offered. The temperature in the tunnel began to drop and Leia’s fear spiked.

Praxar forced her scattered thoughts to focus. She was needed.
“Luke?” Leia whimpered, shuddering and wretched.
“Luke,” she repeated, her voice growing stronger. “Luke, please.”
Praxar could feel the woman calling through the Force and she followed the call with a tendril of her mind. By the time the call had left the solar system, a fifth Sith had appeared and Praxar gave up, bringing the tendril back to the tunnel. Any help that was that far away would take too long to arrive.

Praxar still held the Sith away from making contact but they had already begun to affect the human woman. Leia’s thoughts became more confused as the Sith tried to influence her with their thoughts.
“Obi-Wan Kenobi.”
It was difficult to be sure if the name was spoken out-loud or had merely crossed Leia’s mind. Praxar reached into the Force, searching for anything that responded to the name. She found it, far back in time, and fed the embers she found. It was a long way but Praxar reached for it, feeling the weight and length of the identity she sought. She picked a place in its history and struggled to give it form.

A twenty-five year old Jedi Padawan struggled out of his robe with clumsy fingers. The robe slipped from his fingers and his knees buckled, his head swimming. He was caught before he hit the ground in a pair of large, familiar arms. He knew it must have been Qui-Gon that caught him but he found he was too tired to open his eyes and look.

She gave part of herself to the name and it coalesced to become more than a name. It became a life and edged ever closer to a corporeal entity, the echo of a human male. Satisfied but tired, she slowly drew it to the tunnel until it snagged, dragging a greater weight with it than expected. Another identity had attached itself to the first and was functioning as an anchor. Praxar released both of them and they hovered in the tunnel on the edge of existence.

Pushing against Praxar’s weakened thoughts, the Sith advanced further. One was reaching out ghostly tendrils towards Leia’s skin. Leia pulled away, the desperate thought arcing across her thoughts. Father. The Sith touched her and she stiffened as if plunged into ice-cold water. Praxar latched onto the thought and dove once more into the Force. She withdrew herself from the gems, feeling the crystalline structure collapsing as she demanded the energy necessary to complete her task. The thought led her back into the past. This thread twisted and turned, see-sawing backwards and forwards like a lightning strike. Praxar picked a point and poured her energy into it.

Another young Padawan felt the scowl on his face fade as dizziness overtook him. His steps faltered and he stretched out with one hand. He knew Master Obi-Wan had been standing less than a foot away from him and he succeeded in catching a handful of tunic. He could hear Obi-Wan calling his name in concern but the sound was getting further and further away.

The identity filled and solidified, spinning erratically towards an existence in the tunnel. Again, it snagged as another identity clutched at it and was dragged in its wake.

Frustrated, Praxar seized both of the joined entities she had created. She forced the last of her energy into them, her last act to demand that they arrive where she intended. She no longer had the energy to compel them but they responded of their own volition, close enough to feel Leia’s desperation themselves. As the last wisps of Praxar’s consciousness began to fade into the sameness of the Force, her last thought was one of surprise. She had only intended to create two.

To Be Continued... Chapter 1 | 2 |

The StarWars RPG

2013-01-09T15:40:23Z

So this epic RPG my friends and I have been playing has so far lasted two years - no, the story isn't that long. We just have so much trouble getting everyone together that we can go six months without a session. We have a shift worker, an engineer who can be sent out to mine sites for weeks at a time, a lab technician who sometimes works weekends... and me, a student who is nearly always free. In our last session, thia_cat who plays our smuggler, had to leave early for dinner with her parents. So I tried to write down an accurate summary of the session.

In a previous session, my main character got barbequed: it involved Jellybean's dug Jedi (see picture below), a flamethrower and an unfortunate dice roll. My character went up in flames but didn't die. I'm still waiting to hear how permanent her injuries are.

What you lookin' at?

So I started the session with control of two clonetroopers who'd been temporarily added to the party. We've been through quite a few clonetroopers - George Cloney, Clonan the Barbarian, Stella (NOOOO! STELLLLLLLLA!) and Monty are dead, dead, seriously injured, and waiting at a checkpoint we named 'Chasm of Bad Rolls', respectively. Of the two still with us, we called one 'Jimmy Clone', which we had proudly written down on a sheet of paper from the last session. We couldn't find the name of the second clone anywhere and nobody could remember it, so we named him 'Mystery Guy' which eventually became 'Mysterioso' for the rest of the day. There's only so many pun names you can come up with...

Whose name you laughing at, punk?

We had been dispatched into a mountain base to find a secret meeting and kill/arrest the people involved. We found ourselves in a control room with a couple of consoles. One was covered in light switches and door controls, none of which were labelled. Smuggler Antigone (thia_cat's character) begged to be allowed to just randomly push buttons but was overruled. We continued on over a bridge and through a door. There were people to shoot but also, smack bang in the middle of the room, were two shiny speeder bikes or swoops. For those not as familiar with the Star Wars 'verse these particular bikes are like motorcyles that hover just off the ground using thrusters called 'repulsors', and they are generally as hard to drive and steer as real motorbikes.

Imagine this in a nice fire-engine red or a blazing yellow.

There was a lot of shooting and fighting, mostly by the Jedi and the two clonetroopers. The smuggler hung back and started flicking lights randomly on and off - this mostly worked in our favour. She also cut power to all the doors, meaning everything open stayed open and everything shut stayed shut. The stormtroopers got hurt pretty bad and retreated back across the bridge, leaving the Jedi by herself just as she discovered that the meeting we were sent to break-up involved a Sith. There were several Generals and grunts trying desperately to get out of the door our smuggler had sealed shut remotely.

The two stormtroopers were rapidly trying to heal each other when the unexpected happened : our usually cowardly smuggler ran across the bridge and vaulted into the seat of one of the speeder bikes. It's unusual for her to run towards danger so I can only conclude that the bikes were shiny enough to risk being shot at ;). She got the engine going, swung the bike around and used its guns to shoot back at the enemy, all the while being shot at. At this stage, the Jedi was being thrown across the room by the Sith and the two of them faced each other across a steady stream of blaster fire from the bike.

Sometime around then, the generals and their lackeys managed to score a few hits on the speeder bike. Smuggler was still unscathed but the bike's front repulsors activated and it shot backwards into a wall. Bike half-in and half-out of wall and still hovering above the ground, the bike successfully blocked off the corridor behind the wall and stopped the battle droids behind from getting in to join the fight. At this point the Smuggler started to worry that it was time to bail and grabbed a spanner to jam the guns into firing position. Unfortunately the bike was still taking a beating and the repulsors failed, dropping the bike abruptly onto the ground. This changed the firing angle to across the doorway, cutting off the recovered clonetroopers from coming to the aid of the Jedi.

So powerful was the firepower that a dead body was blasted off the ground and down the stairs. It flew in between the Jedi and Sith. The Jedi tried to force-push the body at the Sith and the Sith pushed back. So for a while the body was suspended between the two and started pancaking under the pressure. Then the Sith won the contest and the dead body went flying, knocking our poor Jedi across the room in the process.

The Smuggler was all for bailing from the bike but the rest of the party insisted she unjam the guns first so that the clones could get past. With a little muttering, she unjammed the guns. The bike's repulsors activated, jacknifing the bike up to crash into the ceiling, where the repulsors failed again and it came crashing down to the ground. Then it exploded in the smuggler's face. Thus leading to a new definition of re-scheming as 'revisiting the plan after the bike explodes'. Smuggler was virtually comatose and on point of death, which was thia_cat's time to leave but she hung around to see how the Jedi-Sith battle went.

Our little dug Jedi was pinned to the ground under the dead body, when she decided to be sneaky. She stealthily pulled a concussion grenade and force-threw it at the Sith. The Sith saw it coming and caught it with the Force. The two then had a Force-contest, generating a high pressure Force 'bomb' at the centre of which was a grenade. Our GM had to look that up and it did end as expected, blowing up in spectacular fashion. Fortunately, the explosion happened several metres away from the Jedi but only a foot from the Sith so the Sith took the brunt of the blow, killing him when he hit the wall on the other side of the room. We all cheered, especially since the Smuggler wasn't completely dead (not stable but not yet passed the point of no return).

We waved thia_cat goodbye just as lady_luinheniel arrived. We were still on a bit of a sugar-high and we'd played an RPG with lady_luinheniel before so we pretty much told her the entire afternoon's play and invited her to join us in the mop-up operation. With almost no prep, she became a clonetrooper p.o.w. that had been tied up in the corner and we continued on.

Jimmy Clone was least recovered from his injuries so he stayed to try to revive the Smuggler while Mysterioso went to help the others. He passed the new clone (who had just rediscovered his armour and weapons) and invited him to join us.
"Hey, you combat ready?"
"Sure."
And off we went again.

Our dug Jedi capped off single-handedly killing the Sith with almost single-handedly pursuing the fleeing Generals and lackeys. She steadily killed the lackeys while the Generals made a run for it. At the this point Mysterioso and the new clone managed to catch up and helped out. We ran past a couple of mounted anti-aircraft gun and managed to resist the urge to climb on and start shooting in a small, confined space. Only just resisted, possibly because the Smuggler wasn't there.

It was about then when Jimmy Clone managed to bring the Smuggler back from the brink of death. He dragged her away from the speeder bike and confirmed that the battle droids were still trapped behind the rubble and not about to come out shooting. He searched her for grenades and decided that the safest course of action would be to put her on the back of the surviving bike. Fortunately she was too unconscious to object to the safety of this maneouver. It might have been around then that he became referred to as "Mad" Jimmy.

He's helping. What did you think he was doing?

The others followed the Generals out to a landing pad where they were desperately trying to take off in their ship to escape. The new clone realised that he had an anti-armour attachment for his gun, and earned the nickname 'Psycho Bitch'. Mysterioso followed suit and they were soon launching explosives at the ship with glee. Half the ship fell off but the engines were still going. Mysterioso runs forward to hurl an EMP grenade up the open ramp and into the ship. Does some damage but the engines are still going. So the Jedi Force-pulls the General trying to close the ramp, dragging him all the way down to the ground. The General stands up and runs straight back into the ship. The Jedi repeats so the General tries a new tactic and leaps over the edge of the platform.

The Jedi tries to catch him but she's quite tiny and can't hold him, even when Mysterioso runs over to help. The guy falls for several turns (6 seconds) before he fires the jetpacks we didn't know he was wearing. He still hits the ground at the bottom but instead of dying he just breaks a lot of bones.

Meanwhile, Pyscho Bitch and Mysterioso board the ship, grappling with the pilot who is still trying to take off with half a ship and an open ramp. They grapple, Mysterioso gets in a miraculous EMP grenade throw which manages to bounce down inside his armour where it explodes in his crotch. Being an EMP grenade, it disables all the controls in the cockpit and the engine finally cuts out. The pilot is pretty shocked but EMP grenades are designed to affect machinary rather than people so he's mostly okay. The pilot surrenders, and is tied up with the Smuggler's synth rope.

Mad Jimmy guards the captive pilot and the unconscious smuggler while the others return to the control room. The Jedi, continuing her reign of awesome, reboots an emitter console so that we can call for help. Dropships turn up and pick up everybody, escorting us all to safety. It is also discovered that the General who jumped is still alive and is captured as well. At this point Psycho Bitch removes his helmet, and turns out not to be a clone at all...

To be continued, hopefully sometime this weekend. *Fingers crossed*

NaNoWrimo 2012

2012-10-26T16:34:45Z

So, my Nano novel this year will be a Batman fic: Gordon and his cops vs Zombies.

We'll see if I can actually win this year...

Dear Yuletide Santa

2012-10-16T16:21:14Z

So, this year I actually remembered to sign up for Yuletide. Yay! (Last year I completely forgot)

So, here is my letter.

Dear Yuletide Santa,

The things I like are character work and action; I'm okay with het, slash (including femslash) or gen pairings; some angst or 'serious shit' is fine as long as there's a general 'good guys win the day' ending and if unexpected/underappreciated characters save the day it's a bonus. I'm okay with fairly explicit violence or sex (even dub-con or non-con), but I don't read character death/suicide/drug use.

My Requests:

Fandom: Aliens (1986)
Characters: Jenette Vasquez, William Hudson
I'd love to see interaction between the marines, maybe a previous mission, during the movie or in an AU where they all survive and carry on together, kicking ass around the universe. Something involving lots of teasing and rough-housing but where they ultimately work together to get the job done. Tough love!

Fandom: Brother Cadfael (by Ellis Peters)
Characters: Brother Cadfael, Hugh Beringar
I'd love to see some bonding from Cadfael and Beringar. Action is a plus but it's the bonding I'm after.

Fandom: Deus Ex: Human Revolution
Character: Malik
I'd like to see a relationship between Adam/Malik. I don't mind if it's close friendship or romance but I adored Malik, and would love to read something with her in it.

Fandom: Ghost in the Shell
Character: Togusa
I'd love a Togusa fic, as he is by far my favourite character. I'd prefer movie or tv series Togusa but I'll take whatever I can get. Let Togusa save the day!

I'm sure I'll love whatever you come up with,

Cheers,

Brightbear

Complicated Plotting

2012-09-19T13:57:59Z

The fic I'm writing currently is driving me a little nuts. Am so focused on character interaction that some of my scenes are slightly lacking in logic - my characters have to escape from a compound, bickering and bonding as they go. They try to walk out of the sewers and when that fails they turn to the old standby of climbing up the elevator shaft. Then they get into an air vent (which is conveniently person-sized), navigate a few hazards like swirling fans and tranquilizer guns, and escape via the roof. I'm not quite sure why this compound is designed this way. I haven't really planned it.

Fungus commented that it was very 90s of me.

I'll fix it later...

EDIT: I'm not sure how but this post got tagged as 'Louisa May Alcott'. Don't know how that happened. Why do I even have a 'Louisa May Alcott' tag in the first place? *wanders off scratching my head*

brightbear @ 2012-07-30T20:32:00

2012-07-30T12:34:55Z

Wow. Haven't posted in ages. Haven't written anything in ages. I've gone through a patch where I've been spending eight hours a day in front of my laptop and the last thing I want to do when I get home is get back on the computer. Will see if I can get back into the swing of things...

Writer's Block: Happy New Year of the Dragon!

2012-01-24T10:21:43Z

THE WOOD RAT

Ironically, my horoscope predicts real life as I have a better relationship with my dragon father (predicted to be one of my ideal friends) than my horse mother (supposedly my mortal enemy)!

Despite having a remarkable facade of self-confidence, deep down, Wood Rats are the least sure of themselves compared to other Rats. However, they wouldn't dream of showing this side of themselves to anyone. Only close companions of a Wood Rat would ever suspect that he or she had such self-doubt. In fact Wood Rats are often worried about downfall, despite their ability to find success. Well-liked, proficient, and good leaders at work, Wood Rats seem to function best when they are surrounded by family and friends. Cordial and delicate, they are usually well loved by family, friends and peers.

Health and home
RAT HEALTH
The affect of the sign of the Rat is energetic, and demonstrates enough endurance to fight most any sickness. Yet, all Rats tend to be tense, full of nervous energy, petulant and prone to stress. Rats also harbor a bit of aggression; yet, they are usually able to control it. Yoga would benefit Rats by calming their aggressive natures and helping them manage stress.

AT HOME WITH THE RAT

Rats make good homemakers who are always willing to do household chores. Rats are not usually interested in keeping up with the times, and it doesn't matter to them whether or not their furnishings are in style. What does matter is that their home is a refuge expressing warmth, comfort and vogue. Light blue is their color of choice for home decor. Because this is a sign of acquisition, the Rat person's house is presumably bursting with various knick-knacks collected over the years. Most Rats are cheerful, domesticated individuals who find happiness at home with their family.

Career and finance
THE RAT ON THE JOB
The Chinese say others should always listen to the advice of the Rat. Because of their intellect and observatory powers, Rat people possess prudence and perception. They can anticipate problems, and are always able to see the big picture. They can hone in on issues at hand and make measurable judgments. These skills, combined with their sense of aspiration also make them clever operators. Status, money, title, and recognition are important to the Rat. They have keen senses of observation that allow them to foresee upcoming business opportunities as well as potential occupational problems. The Rat makes a better boss than an employee and, although motivated, they can be pinned down by routines. Rats work better in flexible situations where they can be freely creative.

MONEY AND THE RAT
Cunning and thrifty, Rats have a knack with money and are apt to save for rainy days. When capable, the Rat is a great money saver, and in strapped times he knows how to make something out of nothing or how to turn make things advantageous for himself. Although few Rats suffer financially, the Chinese have a proverb: They who pile up grain hoards have much to lose.

RAT CAREERS
Those born in the Year of the Rat also share the same kinds of goals and objectives in life. The occupations best suited for the Rat are listed below:

RATS MAKE EXCELLENT:
Writers, Broadcasters, Actors, Advisors, Counselors, Lawyers, Politicians, Designers, Engineers, Managers, Directors, Administrators, Entrepreneurs, Musicians, Stand-up Comedians, Researchers, Historians, Race Car Drivers

CONGENIAL BUSINESS PARTNERS
Whether Rats are compatible with their business partners depends on whether their signs are harmonious or antagonistic to those of their partners. Considering the congruity of their own characters and the characters of their business colleagues can also be very useful.

Rats ruled by wood benefit from water monkeys but are antagonistic to metal snakes

Leisurely activities and pleasures
LIKES AND DISLIKES
Since Rats are born under the same Animal sign, they often share likes and dislikes. Following are similar likes and dislikes of the Rats personality:
Rats Like:
Color Preference: Light-Blue
Gems and Stones: Diamond, Amethyst, Garnet
Suitable Gifts: car accessories, art books, gym memberships, geographical maps
Hobbies and Pastimes: Interior design, playing basketball, crafts, painting
Rats' Dislike: Doing without things they want, strict time keeping, any routines, being at the end of the line

THE RAT VACATION
Travel delights the Rat personality and ignites his curiosity. Sunbathing is not the ideal way for a Rat to spend his vacation. Rats are adventurers. They want to explore, examine, visit and party during their time off. They want to try new foods, find new sights and experience the culture of the area they are visiting. And, of course, if they can come home with an exotic souvenir to add to their collection their vacation will have been an instant success.

FRIENDS AND ENEMIES
Generally friendly and sociable, the Rat is one of the extroverts of the Animal Zodiac. Often, the Rat is lively and genial, and has a special gift for easing the minds of others. It is not surprising that Rats have a lot of friends. They are great speakers and intriguing conversationalists, and can generally find something to say on just about any topic or subject. Of course, there is always that renowned Rat lure that allows them to charm the pants off of people! To the people they love, Rats can be amazingly charitable, popular and supportive, and will go out of their way to be certain their loved ones are content. On the other hand, if the Rat does not like someone, he is considered fair game and can be used to achieve any and all of the Rat's desires. At the end of the day, though, the Rat is a loyal friend and will be there for his companions through thick and thin.

Compatible Friends: Dragons and Monkeys
Mortal Enemy: Horses

RAT PARENTS AND CHILDREN
Rat parents are dedicated to their children. They encompass their little ones with love and attention and enjoy watching their offspring grow and experience the world. When their children are small they brood a great deal over them. Rats become concerned if their babies don't develop as quickly as other children. They anguish over whether or not they are raising their youngsters correctly. With the mental capacity to pick things up easily, Rats tend to get agitated with people who are not quite as quick-witted as they are. No wonder this trait could lead to conflict between Rat parents and their children should any of their children be late bloomers or harbor learning disabilities. Overall, Rats are indulgent parents who don't like denying their youngsters of things they want, and the children soon learn how to wrap their parents around their little fingers.

THE RAT INFANT AND CHILD
Rat babies love to be loved and cuddled. When they are young, Rat babies tend to depend tremendously on their parents, but later in life they develop natural leadership qualities. During their baby years, Rats mature slowly, but gain momentum as they become toddlers. Eventually, they begin to exhibit active mentalities, so, in the early years, plenty of sleep is necessary. In school, the young Rats are eager to learn. It is then, too, that Rats begin collecting things, and like to fill their bedrooms with pebbles, shells and keepsakes of every kind. Generally, young Rats are smart little people who are artistic and literary students. They are well-rounded and many of them do well in sports, too. Being born in the first sign of the Chinese horoscope motivates these children to be pioneers and gives them a need to be first in line.

Lovers and partners

Rats are beautiful people with magnetic personalities. The Rat himself can't help but notice the admiration he receives from others. If the Chinese say there are few poor Rats, there are an even fewer number who are not sexually stimulating- especially as young people. Rat people are romantic, and are always happier to have someone to share with.

RAT ENRAPTURE
One of the Rat's greatest assets is his charm. Rats can melt hearts with their smiles. Add that to their coquettish personalities and you can easily see how they conquer the hearts of others. And, since Rats love to go out, they have plenty of chances to meet potential suitors or future partners. An annoying quirk of some Rats is they have a difficult time severing ties with former lovers. Obviously, this can pose potential conflicts for the Rat and his new lover and can even endanger his ability to develop new relationships. When the Rat finally settles down with Mr. or Ms. Right, he will find a sincere satisfaction in the intimacy of the partnership.

A RAT'S PARTNER
Although Rats like to be in the driver's seat, they do need partners who can keep up with their active lifestyles. Chinese horoscopes are very specific about which partnerships have the potential to be successful in love and in business. Yet, though destiny can point us in the right direction, we must still make efforts to maintain loving relationships.

CANCERIAN RAT
Cancerian Rats like to be individuals and to stand out. Material things are important to them, but what they value their family more than anything else.

From over here.

Writer's Block: B.Y.O.B. Holidays

2011-12-12T12:37:48Z

Christmas Eve, Christmas Day and New Year's Eve. I'm not religious but to me Christmas means family, because it's the one time of year the extended family is in the one place. Every Christmas Eve, the close family gets together to listen to the poem "The Night Before Christmas". Then on Christmas morning we have breakfast together and open presents. Then we head out to the extended family's Christmas lunch. Eventually, when the sugar high starts wearing down, we usually head back to my parents' with a few extras tagging along where we collapse on the nearest couch and struggle to digest all the food we've eaten :)

brightbear @ 2011-09-26T20:15:00

2011-09-26T12:16:26Z

Your result for Which Starfleet Captain Are You?...

Captain Janeway

17% Kirk, 29% Picard, 25% Sisko, 35% Janeway, 33% Archer.

On your first starship command, on the first mission, you got lost and wound up on the other side of the galaxy. Then you hired a group of terrorists and ex-convicts (though you didn't actually pay them) to join your crew. Despite your reverence for the Prime Directive, you've always found some way or another to violate it. You united the Kaazon.... in their hatred of you. You destroyed Earth in the 29th century and formed an alliance with the Borg.

And yet, despite all that, you stumbled home by flying through a giant CGI explosion and got promoted to admiral. You may be a girl, but you've got BALLS!

Take Which Starfleet Captain Are You? at HelloQuizzy

Your result for The Partner in Crime Test...

The Mastermind

79% Guts, 91% Brains and 78% Soul!

Outstanding! Your courage, loyalty, and exceptional intellect mean you could be leading your own criminal outfit some day soon. But you probably won't—choosing instead to use your skills to improve the world.

Take The Partner in Crime Test at HelloQuizzy

Your Ideal Harry Potter husband is... Albus Dumbledore.

You like 'em powerful and brilliant. And why not? A guy like this, you can have intelligent conversation with, laugh with, and you know he can protect you. Sure, he may have a weakness for power, but he's got that under control. And sure, he let his sister die, but he learned from that. And sure, he harbors a secret, forbidden love for a man widely known to be his mortal enemy, but...well, no, that's actually a pretty big obstacle. Good luck with that.
http://cdn.okcimg.com/php/load_okc_image.php/images/0x0/0x0/0/7947807897314439934.jpeg
cdn.okcimg.com

Book Reviews

2011-09-25T17:07:19Z

I've recently finished reading two non-fiction books,Lesbian and Gay Parents and Their Children: Research on the Family Life Cycle by Abbie Goldberg, and The Age of Empathy: Nature's Lessons For a Kinder Society by Frans De Waal. Both of them are reviewing and summarizing a volume of scientific research, and are a wonderful starting point to find references on their respective topics.

The first I absolutely love to bits, both for the writing style and for the quality of its content. The latter is not as easy to read but I think the message is worth-while and is scientifically sound (it also offers some comment on the political opposition to the idea that 'empathy' and 'kindness' are just as natural as 'aggression' or 'anger'.

Lesbian and Gay Parents has an entertaining style to read and each chapter is thoroughly introduced with adequate context. The author, Annie Goldberg, is a psychologist although the book shows influences from sociology, sexuality/gender studies and references to studies on human development (the last of which is closest to my personal background). The book slowly graduates from the subject of lesbian and gay research in general, to those in relationships, to those becoming parents, to those actually parenting, to the children of these relationships, the adult children of these relationships, and finally with future research directions. I cannot empahsise enough how easy to read each of these sections are. You can read this book piecemeal or from cover to cover. There is mention of what past research was and how it was interpreted, followed up by discussion of current research and nearly always includes future questions which have yet to be answered. There is no covering up of flaws, either - when a finding hasn't been proved or has produced only mixed results it is noted. This is a book that supports lesbian and gay rights (LGBTI rights more broadly are mentioned but the research is sparser) but it is solidly based on what science has found, not on what politics says should be. If it's possible to have a crush on a book, I certainly have one.

Overall, I'd recommend Lesbian and Gay Parents not just to those who identify but to anybody who is a member of a family, because this book not only talks about how these minority families are different, but also the ways in which all families are alike. You don't need any particular background in science because the usefulness and context of the research is clearly explained.

The Age of Empathy is a long discussion of the evidence for empathy, compassion and kindness in the natural world. It's a complex topic, since different types of empathy have to be identified and explained, and different methods of testing for them have produced different results across species. I admit I knew that recognition of oneself in a mirror was thought to be a critical test of an animal's cognitive ability but I had never considered the challenges of testing animals as big as elephants, let alone the virtual impossibility of testing something like a sperm whale!

I found the scientific content satisfying and sometimes exciting - a lot of questions he raises are things that I myself have wondered about. I usually can't come up with answers, resigning them to questions I might get around to asking 'one day'. Here, De Waal has demonstrated that not only are they valid questions but that people have been asking them for a long time. De Waal takes care to make it obvious when he is voicing his personal opinion, when he is citing large-sample studies and when he is retelling anecdotes - though he notes that in some cases anecdotes may be our only ethical way of recording certain behaviours, unless we're prepared to nearly drown infants in order to observe their mothers' distressed reaction. There was a lot in this book that I didn't know, especially about the distinctions between humans, apes and monkeys. Elephants, dolphins and whales are also referenced as animals of stand-out intelligence. There is quite a bit of mention of human child development, especially as a measuring yard stick of the intelligence of other animals. There as some extremely modern references to business attitudes and politcal events.

This book is not as entertaining the whole way through, perhaps reflecting that this book was written by a primatologist Frans De Waal with a very different vocabulary to that of a psychologist like Annie Goldberg. The first few chapters seem full of a bit of redundancy and repetition as De Waal starts simple. The book really gains speed as it races towards the end and I found it impossible to put down in the final third. Lots of findings come together and the book left me satisfied that a reliable foundation was laid but also excited for all the questions still to be answered.

The Age of Empathy I'd recommend primarily to those with an interest in field. The 'field' in this case is fairly broad and there's something there for primatologists, anthropologists/archaeologists, psychologists, biologists and zoologists among others. Anyone with an interest in the emotions of humans or animals. I'd even suggest that any businessman or politician who believes that competition is a more 'natural' human quality than 'compassion' read this book - it'll emphasise that you can't expect humans to be 100% self-interested any more than you can expect them to be 100% selfless in their dealings with others. Prepare for a little of both, or you'll be in for a shock...

Now I will return to reading things of lesser literary and scientific value - Sharpe fic :)

Batman Fic

2011-09-01T15:42:22Z

This has been sitting on my hard-drive for a while, so I dragged it out, got it beta'd by YR and am now posting it. The first thing I've posted in a while.

Title: The Warning
Fandom: Batman Nolanverse/Resident Evil: Apocalypse
Pairing: hinted Gordon/Batman,
Rating: PG
Summary: The term bio-weapon was one that Jim understood enough only to know that he didn't want to know any more.
It's over here on Ao3.

Writer's Block: Father figure

2011-06-20T15:39:05Z

"The person who you are now is only who you are at this moment in time, its not who you'll always be."

Said to me when I was struggling with shyness and gave me the courage to keep trying in social situations. Dad was right and now I'm not the shy teenager I was back then. In twenty years time I can't tell what parts of me will be the same and what will have changed, and that's okay, because my life is full of possibility. The sky's the limit!

Writer's Block: Tobacco road

2011-05-16T14:38:38Z

Definitely. Coming from a family of asthmatics, I have very little sympathy for those who smoke.

Thoughts on Charmed

2011-04-22T09:29:18Z

I recently revisited Charmed, a show about three sisters who discover that they're good witches destined to fight evil. Wow, has it been a while. The fashion is all very 90s and it is very formulaic and popularist. However, it still has its genuine moments. This was not a show to watch for revelations but for simple, uncomplicated fun. I also loved the cutesy sisterly vibe, especially in the early seasons.

Prue - I loved this character, and while I can't imagine growing up without my parents around I can still identify with feeling like the continuously responsible eldest child. I also admired the character's professionalism and fashion sense. I felt that Shannon Doherty was an excellent actor. I've heard a lot of not so nice things about the actor and she was abruptly fired at the start of season 4. I think this was a great loss to the series and my interest in the sisters began to wane after this point.

Piper - this character was more diplomatic than her sisters, playing the role of the mediating middle child. She was constantly worrying about meshing her normal life with her supernatural one, and verged on the neurotic at times. She was practical and dependable. She was never my favourite character but she was always solid and consistent, and became much stronger and more interesting after the departure of Prue. While I didn't feel she could steal the show like Shannon Doherty, the actor Holly Marie Combs was always solid. Even when I thought the scenes were a little silly, it seemed like any flaws were the fault of the writers rather than that of Combs. While I hated the ping-pong game her love life took in the 2nd season, I did like her relationship with Leo once it settled down.

Phoebe - the youngest sister, Phoebe, was much more of a free-spirit than her sisters. She changed the most over the series from her irresponsible wild-child persona at the beginning to the successful career woman by the end. The character had some really fun moments as she could be more cheeky and embrace joy a little more. The third season saw her fall for a half-demon, half-human bad guy Cole Turner (aka Belthazor). I really enjoyed this storyline, watching him slowly fall in love with the woman he'd been sent to kill while Phoebe tries to work out what it is that he is hiding from her. There were a few cringe-worthy moments from the actors (Alyssa Milano and Julian McMahon) but overall I loved the detour from the normal formula and the way the plot lasted for more than a few episodes. Their relationship lasted into the middle of the fourth season, and I hated the break-up. Partly because I loved them as a couple and partly because I thought their reasons were stupid. For a more coherent explanation of why, see LadyLavinia's analysis of Phoebe as a character. I lost nearly all interest in the show by this point but perservered until mid season 5.

Paige - the newcomer. Paige was the half-sister the others discovered after Prue's death, replacing her as the third sister. I thought some of the storylines they used to introduce her with (the grief of the other two sisters, the reuniting of family, Paige's aspiriations to social work) were very promising. However, I don't think she was as strong a character and Rose McGowan definitely wasn't as strong an actor as Shannon Doherty. I watched her with great interest until mid season 4 when I started to get the feeling that the show wasn't delivering on any of the character's promise.

Ultimately, I adore a lot of the early Charmed but I can't really stand to watch the later seasons without getting angry and frustrated - which isn't the reaction you want from what's supposed to be a piece of mindless fun. To add to my frustration, there doesn't seem to be a lot of fic out there and most of what is out there was written about new characters introduced in the later seasons (particularly Chris and Wyatt, Piper's sons).

So, here are the handful of decent fics I have found.

The Unknown.
Author: cieux
Characters: Leo/Cole.
Author Note: I play with the idea of these two every now and then :)

As Seen Through Her Eyes
Author: Lilian
Summary: Phoebe wants Cole to bare himself to her. All of him.
Pairing: Phoebe/Cole
Rated: T - English

And then...: Enter the Demon
Author: Lilian
Summary : What happened when Cole shimmered Phoebe down to France?
Rated: T
Pairing: Phoebe/Cole

Rose Madder's Redemption Series (starts out kind of average but the sequels get better and better).
Redemption | The Demon's Advocate | So Mote It Be | Fruit of My Womb | The Coleville Horror | Cursed Be
Summary: Has the Source completely overtaken Cole's body? As Phoebe's life is hanging on a thread, Cole has one last chance to show who's really in control.
Pairing: Phoebe/Cole
Rated: K+