Next Thing You Know...

missizzy — Mon, 24 Dec 2007 14:06:28 GMT

SixApart were a bunch of asses and then sold the place to one of Putin's cronies. Cannot cope. Off to InsaneJournal.

100th Padmé AU!

missizzy — Mon, 24 Dec 2007 13:44:24 GMT

For my final Padmé AU, I decided long ago I would take a dip into someone else's universe, which I knew would probably be a Q/O author's universe, since most of my reading in this fandom has been by those writers. I finally settled on the Wheel of If, since there's plenty of room in it.

Title: Senator Amidala's Destiny
Fandom: Star Wars
Character: Genderswapped!Padmé, Luke, Leia, GS!Obi-Wan/Maul, Obi-Wan(both GS! and otherwise)/Qui-Gon
Prompt: #100-Writer's Choice
Rating: PG
Author's Notes: From the multiverse of mrshamill's Riding the Wheel of If series, written with her permission. For placement purposes, this can be considered to take place in one of the universes mentioned as having been visited early in Episode 13.

There were many days when Paqiuo Amidala wondered why he'd gone on, after his wife had nearly choked him to death and disappeared, leaving behind two children who had gone into the care of the Jedi. It had been years since he'd seen his beloved Naboo; it was too dangerous for him for him to leave Coruscant. He remained in the Senate but had slowly grown to loath it, that corrupt, foul place, filled with beings blind and self-important at best and willing to sell out the lives of entire planetary populations for a few extra credits at worst. That he truly believed this was still a better alternative than any other government sentient beings were capable of having just depressed him further.

There was one thing that he knew he lived for. That was nights like this.

It was an ideal one, tonight. Both his children were here, and neither of them had any more work to do that night. Their Masters were not there; they were at a meeting of some sort. There was a rumor going around the Temple that it had to do with Count Dooku, but Paqiuo did not believe it and anyway, he did not care.

They'd shared lastmeal, and Luke had demonstrated several new katas that he'd mastered, and the three of them together had put together a model of the Senate building. By the time Leia was applying the finishing touches to the roof and Luke was trying to work the motor to make the structure rotate, it was getting very late. Paqiuo was starting to wonder where Sil-Wan and Maul were.

"Where is Master Maul?" Luke sighed with frustration. "He could get this done in a moment...okay, let's see if it works now. Stand clear, Leia." Leia backed up and Luke pressed some control out of Paqiuo's sight. The model hummed. In a moment or two, Paquio knew, it should start turning around, and part to reveal the intrically crafted interior.

The humming continued, but it did not rotate.

Luke shook his head. "What now? I'm out of ideas."

"Time for bed," Paquio answered. "You and your Masters can deal with it tomorrow."

"Awwww," Leia protested, and Luke added, "But then you'll have to go!"

"Not yet," Paquio pointed out, "I still can tell you a bedtime story."

"But it still means you're leaving soon."

"I know, I know. But you know I always have to go when the night is over."

"We know," Leia agreed, but she looked sad about it too.

Each of the twins went to their bedroom. Paquio waited while they both changed, then Luke opened the door and said, "It's okay, you can come in now."

Leia came in as their father was tucking her brother in. She settled on the edge of the bed, where she would sit while the story was told. "Tell us about Obi-Wan Kenobi," she said.

"Yeah!" Luke chimed. "Tell us that one!"

"All right," said Paquio, "though now I think you two might know it better than I do."

"Twenty years ago, when I was the young King of Naboo, only newly elected, my planet caught the eye of the Trade Federation. You've heard of the Trade Federation, right?"

"Who hasn't?" said Leia. "Besides, you've told us this story before."

"Yes, I have. Well, noone knew it at first, but the Trade Federation was in fact being urged on by the Sith Lord Darth Sidious. And he had reasons of his own for wanting Naboo invaded."

"But the Chancellor had sent two Jedi to Naboo, hadn't they?" Luke asked happily. Any parts of the story that directly involved his Master, of course, were his favorite parts.

"Yes, he had," said Paquio, "and their names were Qui-Gon Jinn and Sil-Wan Kenobi. And they helped me win my planet back. But when they did, they encountered a man who looked to them like a terrible demon. He killed Master Qui-Gon. And then Sil-Wan was very unhappy, for she had loved her Master and had never told him. She killed the demon and thought he was one of the two Sith Lords. But noone knew who the other one was."

"But he wasn't even one, was he?" Leia cut in, because she had to point things out in defense of her own Master. "He was a clone, and the real Sith Lord fell in love with Sil-Wan, and came to the light for her. And he didn't look like a demon, either, once they took the genetic manipulations out of him."

"Yes," said Luke impatiently, "but that's not part of this story, is it? That's another story all together."

"Only because Obi-Wan didn't know about that. I wonder why not."

"Leia! Father hasn't gotten to Obi-Wan yet! Besides, I'm sure he found out about him eventually. I mean, we didn't know about Maul yet."

"Yes, I was just getting to that. But Sil-Wan had a little girl to train as her padawan, because with his dying breath Qui-Gon had made her promise she'd train her, so she went back to the Jedi Temple to sadly set about her task." He was thankful that neither of the children pointed out that this was their mother. Even though it had been over eight years, he still couldn't think about Anyanka without pain.

"But then," he said, "a few months later, one day, a man appeared in the middle of the Jedi Temple. It was from out of nowhere; there was a loud bang!" He clapped his hands. So did Luke and Leia. "And there he was."

"And he looked a lot like Master Sil-Wan," said Luke, "didn't he?"

"Yes, he did. When they stood next to each other, you would have thought they were twins.

And that was because he was Sil-Wan. He was another version of her, from an alternate universe. In that universe, Sil-Wan had been born as a man. But otherwise he had lived her life almost exactly as she had lived it, and he too had loved the Qui-Gon Jinn of his universe, and lost him with having never told him so. But a month afterwards when he had made a new lightsaber, he had discovered that igniting it caused him to travel from universe to universe, and he went off in search of a place where Qui-Gon was alive, and had need of him. Along the way, he found out many things, more than any person living in any one universe could have found out on his or her own.

He didn't stay in our universe for long. He had been traveling through many universes very quickly when he came to ours. While he was here, he met only with Master Yoda, who always knew his incredible story to be true, and with Sil-Wan, and a little bit with her padawan. He told both of the first two something very important.

To Master Yoda, he identified the Sith Lord as none other than the newly elected Chancellor Palpatine, whom he had fought and defeated in other universes. He had, in fact, spurred the Trade Federation to invade his own planet to cause turmoil in the Senate, forcing me to call on a vote of no-confidence on the previous Chancellor, in an attempt to get Naboo the aid it needed. That's how he had gotten elected." And if he hadn't been identified, Paquio didn't want to think about how much guilt that would have caused him. "The Jedi called him to the Temple and confronted him, and in the end were forced to slay him.

To Sil-Wan he told something not quite so important for the fate of the galaxy, but in her life, it was possibly the most important thing she ever learned. Although Obi-Wan had never shared love with his own Qui-Gon, he had met many other Qui-Gons, all of whom had loved their Obi-Wans or Sil-Wans as Obi-Wan and Sil-Wan had loved their Qui-Gons. One, a female Qui-Gon of all things, had said to him that she couldn't imagine being her and not loving him. That Sil-Wan's old Master had loved her was, to Obi-Wan, beyond doubt.

When Sil-Wan too believed it, it brought her closure, and gave her strength to face up to her life, and to the trials she would endure in later years. And she would need all the strength she could get." Being brought face to face with Maul had been hard enough, but it was good that she'd learned to love him in time. When Anyanka had turned and betrayed them all, it was he who had consoled her, supported her, and restored her to her previous confidence and ability to go on.

Just then they heard a the doorchime, and Paquio called, "Come in!"

Sil-Wan peeked in, Maul behind her. "Ah, into bed I see," she said. "How goes the story?"

"We were just finishing up, actually," said Paquio. "I'll see my daughter back to her own bedroom now." He kissed Luke goodnight and scooped Leia up as she giggled.

Leia's smiles lasted until he was tucking her into her own bed, with Sil-Wan and Maul waiting outside. Then she looked very serious as she asked her father, "You will come and see us again soon, won't you, father?"

"As soon as I can. You know that, Leia." He kissed her, whispered, "Good night. Sweet dreams," and quietly walked out of the room, turning the light off as he went.

"Paquio," said Sil-Wan when the door was closed. "Sit down."

Her tone was very grim; her earlier smile had completely vanished. Confused and frightened, Paquio did as she told him. She and Maul sat down as well.

"We just returned from a meeting with Master Yoda, Master Windu, Master Gallia, and some others," Sil-Wan said. "I hope you won't be offended if I refuse to name them at this point. We had a discussion that we agreed, at the beginning of the meeting, to keep to ourselves, but near the end, we also agreed to tell you this much:

We are now certain that Count Dooku has set up operations in an ancient Sith construction on a moon in the Yavin system, in the Outer Rim. We have identified a number of allies he has with them, among them, Anyanka."

Eight years. It had been eight years since anyone had heard anything of Anyanka. The last record of her was a week after she had nearly killed Paquio, nearly been killed by Sil-Wan, and fled Coruscant, when she had checked into a charity hospital-under another name-on Alderaan and given birth to the twins. They only knew it was her because before slipping out not an hour after delivery, she'd left a note naming Paquio as their father, and the hospital had contacted him. Why she had done this noone was sure.

"We weren't able to agree on how far we should include you now, in our plans. I told them that you weren't happy staying here on Coruscant, and that we should ask you to come with us there. Master Yoda supported me, but Masters Windu and Gallia are both opposed. The others are divided. We finally decided to ask you first. If we asked you to come to Yavin with us, you might have to directly fight Anyanka, and I feel it is very likely that one way or another, you would more like than not lose your own life. But these days, Paquio, I'm honestly not sure if that's not what you want."

"Why don't you point out what you pointed out to the others?" Maul interrupted. "That if Paquio comes with us to Yavin, there's a chance seeing him again could cause Anyanka to turn back?"

"I wish I believed it as much as I seemed to back there," sighed Sil-Wan, "It's not impossible, I know, but remember, he tried to do it eight years ago and failed."

"Who says he wouldn't have succeeded if you hadn't followed him and destroyed his credibility in Anyanka's eyes? I know what she's been through these past eight years, Sil-Wan, and I agree with Paquio that there's still good in her. At least there was when she left the children in the hospital; if she was completely gone she would have taken them with her and raised them in the darkness the same way Sidious raised me."

"But that was eight years ago," said Sil-Wan, "and now it may be too late."

"I don't care," said Paquio. "Even if there was no chance at all I'd rather go and die by Anya's hand, now, then stay here on Coruscant any longer, and if there is that chance...tell your group if they refuse to take me with them I may follow them on my own."

"You mean that, don't you?" It was strange to see Sil-Wan look at her with such astonishment, especially after all these years. "But they'll never think you do."

"Then they'll find out otherwise. You know I mean what I say, Sil-Wan."

"I do. Very well, then, I'll tell them that."

He felt a twinge for Luke and Leia, and how they would fare without him. But they would be all right. Already their Masters were far more family to them than their father.

Then she realized. "Sil-Wan, Maul, if you two are going to Yavin, then that means...Luke and Leia..."

"You know how padawans are raised here in the Jedi Order, Paquio," said Sil-Wan firmly. "They are old enough."

"But..." Paquio had to protest. He had to. "Sil-Wan, I know there's a chance that if and when Anyanka sees me again, she might just become determined to kill me herself. I don't care; I'm willing to risk that, but you can't put Luke and Leia into that kind of danger! They're still only eight!"

"Calm down, Paquio," said Maul. "Nothing's been decided yet. If you really think it would be more dangerous for them than for most, we'll submit that to the Council. At the very least, I think Yoda will listen."

"He had better," said Paquio. He rose.

"You really are determined about this, aren't you?" asked Sil-Wan. "I don't think you ever got over her."

"Would you have gotten over Qui-Gon Jinn?" Paquio asked. "If he hadn't died, but if this had happened to him instead? Could you have turned your back?"

"No," said Sil-Wan immediately. "But...you remember what I told you about alternate universes? About meeting another version of myself?"

"I told them that story tonight; they love hearing it. But I'm certain my relationship with Anyanka went the same way across the universes. It's the exact same thing."

"You do know what Obi-Wan said about Anyanka in every other universe he came across?"

"That she was a boy in them, yes. I don't care. Maybe I was a woman in some of them. He didn't say anything about me, did he? But man or woman, I'm sure I loved her whether she was a her or a him. Good night." And not really trying to hide his anger, he walked towards the door.

He was walking through it when he heard Maul murmur something, and he ended up looking back just in time to see the longtime couple kiss. Maul had his hands in Sil-Wan's hair; he was stroking where it was losing color. He turned away and felt a stab of envy. Neither of the two people he left behind had led at all an easy life; in fact, they had both endured far worse traumas than he had. But they had come out of it content, and if they were both still alive at the end of this one, they would become content once again, with time if not immediately.

Briefly he had wondered what had happened to that Obi-Wan Sil-Wan had met, if he had ever found his Qui-Gon and his new home, or if he had just gone from universe to universe with slowly fading purpose...was he still out there somewhere now, as listless and tired of life as Paquio was? Or had he managed to find at least Sil-Wan's level of happiness, if not better? She was one of the luckier Sil-Wans, he still thought. Had he ever met any other Paquios, or female Paquios, who had perhaps come to better fates than his? Killed immediately by their Anyankas and spared this, at least? Or even able to turn her(or him) back, or having never lost her(or him) in the first place?

Outside the Jedi Temple the Coruscant night wasn't too dark with all the lights from the cars and buildings, but they still looked menacing. Paquio got into his vehicle and wished that just once he could walk home, or anywhere. Feel solid earth beneath his feet. He hated looking down, though the driving required him to. Coruscant felt like a hollow place to him, almost like a space station.

It was a little more bearable to him now, though, now that he knew he wouldn't be here much longer. Hopefully he would be making this particular trip, back from the Temple to his apartment in the Senate District, for the last time, and when he next traveled these lanes, it would be on his way off this planet forever. Perhaps if he was very lucky he would finally return to die and be buried on Naboo. Even if he didn't, and even if he still never saw the woman he still loved again, this last journey would be a sweet one.

missizzy — Sun, 23 Dec 2007 17:55:39 GMT

If I hear that song "Christmas Shoes" one more time I may take something heavy to the radio. It's arguably offensive even without being overplayed. And I haven't heard my favorite "Christmas Wrapping" once this this year for the second year in a row! Have they suddenly deemed the Waitresses to be offensive or something? At least I got to hear the Muppets once.
Maybe one should stick to the Tchaikovsky:

missizzy — Thu, 20 Dec 2007 19:08:27 GMT

We saw an actual old medieval Christmas play staged at the Folger last night, with a lot of really old music to pad it out, since it was kind of short. Naturally the music proved the highlight of the evening. I recognized one of the songs from singing in Sweet Briar's choir, and another one from the Sweet Tones. I also recognized most of their instruments from writing a paper and doing a presentation on them!
We just set the tree up and put lights on the bushes. The latter is new this year, and it was something I always thought this family was never going to do. But your sister becomes an electrician and all of the sudden it happens. She was completely in charge of lighting the tree too; mom and I just help locate the adapters because not all our outlets are three-pronged and helped put the other decorations on afterwards.
Tomorrow I take my mom ice skating, for the first time since she was about 17 years old. This may be very interesting. I just hope they don't put her in skates too small like they did with me at first.
ETA:Photos of the tree and bushes.

My reaction to my first grade: "How the-"

missizzy — Mon, 17 Dec 2007 12:23:13 GMT

I got an A in Systems Analysis! Apparently Dr. Wang really liked our project. He said he's email us more feedback, but he hasn't yet. Though I think he might just be a lenient grader. I need to check to see if I've got either of my classes next semester with him. ;-) Now as long as I get at least a B in Management, which I think I'll probably manage, I'll be able to finish next semester.
Saw Atonement last night. Spent much of the first part highly admiring the craft, but not really feeling much. Spent the second part trying to figure out where the movie was going. Spent the last two minutes sobbing. I think the idea of the author giving back directly through her writing got to me. No idea what else I'll be seeing, but this may be the best movie I see this year. Not that that says much; I've missed everything this year.

missizzy — Sun, 16 Dec 2007 17:24:49 GMT

Home, unpacked, and currently YouTubing the Grand Prix Finale. Yesterday was one thing after another. I was expecting some delays on the first train down to New York, what with all the snow, but it still was annoying to have planned on over an hour and a half in the train station and instead have barely thirty-five minutes, especially when the line for the bathroom was so long I didn't even try. To make the long journey even longer, there was a problem with the train's thermostat. Apparently it was freezing cold in one of the cars, but in mine the heat was on way too strong. Which felt nice when I first got on, but nine hours later felt like an oven. The second train was late too, and as a result boarding it was a rushed hassle, especially because everyone had to board at assigned places and get in their assigned seat. After that the first three hours were smooth, but then we got into Washington. There it was normal procedure for the engines to be switched and the train to shut off power for about half an hour. But this time they decided to attach two private cars to the end, and then they couldn't get power to them. What resulted was an hour of sitting there in the dark, my stomach cramping up as well, wondering if I really shouldn't just get off and metro down to my parents in King Street, before they finally thought to tell us what was going on. It still took another half an hour to get things sorted and out. To add insult to injury, we promptly got stuck behind a freight train five minutes after leaving. By my calculations when we arrived in Union Station, I should have been getting into Alexandria 10/15 minutes early. Instead I got in 45 minutes late! At least I never have to do that train ride again; we're driving up in early January to move me between apartments and yesterday I decided I was staying there afterwards.

99th Padmé AU

missizzy — Sat, 15 Dec 2007 03:21:43 GMT

Title: The Family Woman
Fandom: Star Wars
Character: Padmé, Leia, Luke, Ryoo/OMC
Prompt: #99-Writer's Choice
Word Count: 1161
Rating: PG
Author's Notes: Fourth in this four-part series, sequel to Chill Headaches, The Second Meeting, and Unpacking Bags.

“After that,” Padmé said to her two children, “you must take the reeds between your fingers and press at them until they’re thin enough. I know it’s tiring, but it’ll make weaving the basket itself much, much easier later.”

“Can’t we use the hammer?” Leia asked, looking longingly at the tiny hammer on the worktable.
“No, that would damage them. This is very fine work.”

Fine work it might be, but it was work that Padmé did so much that she could do it without thinking about it at all. Instead she watched as the twins labored, pressing the reeds into varying states of flatness and thinness. It didn’t take long, of course, before they noticed that their mother was placing in front of her example after example of identical perfectly thinned reed.

“How do you do that?” Leia finally asked her.

“By endless practice. Keep going.”

There was a knock on the door. “Aunt Padmé?” Ryoo’s voice called from outside. “Is it okay if I bring Wapor in to see your shop?”

“Sure, he can come in.” Wapor Kloiterrie was Ryoo’s new boyfriend, and there was something about their relationship that made Padmé think that it might lead to more than Ryoo’s past loves had, maybe even to marriage in a few years’ time.

As the door opened, the winter wind gusted in and chilled all three people inside before Ryoo and Wapor hurried in and slammed the door shut behind them. They pulled back their hoods and Ryoo shook out her hair. “The wind’s getting a little fierce out there.”

“That’s true,” said Luke, who was trying to put the reeds back in order, though he didn’t really need to.

“So you make these?” Wapor asked, picking up one of the large baskets on the floor. It was half his height, and wide enough to hold both Luke and Leia comfortably at the same time. After a moment or so he had to put it back down.

“Each one of them,” said Leia. “She’s teaching us how to do them right now.” She slapped down a pressed reed; she had finished more of them than Luke had, which she was probably proud of. Even though Luke’s were much better done. Almost all of Leia’s would be useless for making real baskets. Most of Luke’s wouldn’t be good for that either, but there were a few of them that Padmé would put aside for his later use.

Wapor turned his attention to the twins. They’d met before, of course, but they’d never really spent a large amount of time together. “So you two are going to follow in your mother’s footsteps, then?”

“Maybe,” said Leia.

“I don’t know,” said Luke.

They were neither of them content, Padmé knew. They had too much of their father in them. They dreamed of fame and glory. How could Padmé tell them that it was dangerous for them to attract too much notice in their lives, especially when they had a parent unaccounted for?

“Ooh, rebellious.” Wapor put the huge basket down and walked over to them. And suddenly, Padmé didn’t at all like the way he was looking at her children, the calculation with which he considered them-they were only eight years old! “What do you want to do with your lives, if you don’t spend them making these baskets?”

“Well I want to enter politics, but ma won’t let me.”

“Why not?” His pointed look asked the question as much of Padmé as he did of Leia.

“I don’t think it’s something someone her age should do,” said Padmé, her standard answer, “and it’s always dismayed me that those on Naboo that do go into politics are pressured to do so.”

“And what about you, Luke?” Wapor had turned his attention from Leia to her brother. “What do you want to do with your life?”

Luke shrugged. “He never answers that question,” Ryoo advised her boyfriend. He had some sort of ambition; that Padmé was certain of. He would never admit to what it was, though, always leaving everyone to wonder.

“You ought to really consider what your daughter wants, you know,” said Wapor to Padmé. “I think you really should let the girl go into politics.”

He tried to make it sound casual. But Padmé could tell he had some ulterior motive.
“I think I could do with a moment of cold air,” she commented. “Ryoo, could you come with me?”
Ryoo wasn’t fooled by her Aunt any more than her Aunt had been fooled by her boyfriend. But she said, “Sure, let’s go,” and went out with her.

Outside, Padmé turned to her niece and asked, “Is there anything about Wapor you haven’t told us about?”

Ryoo’s lips formed the words no. Then they stopped and she shook her head. Then she leaned in and whispered, “Well, I don’t anything for sure, but I think he’s involved in the resistance.”
“And you’re still with him? Ryoo, you’re not considering marrying him, are you?”

“We haven’t been together long enough for that, but Aunt Padmé, I thought he might be in the resistance before we started dating! That’s how I first got interested in him.”

Fear gripped Padmé’s heart as she thought of the danger to the entire family this implied. “Ryoo, you’re not...yourself...”

“Not at the moment,” snapped Ryoo, angry now, “but if I did join the resistance, I would expect you to be proud of me.”

“Well, I would be, but all the same, I would be scared for you as well. And honestly, Ryoo, he’s in there-oh why did I leave him alone with them?” And she turned to run back in, but Ryoo caught her arm and stopped her.

“He won’t say anything to them now,” she sighed. “They’re too young, and he knows that. But in a few years...and Aunt Padmé, have you ever considered how unfair it is for them that they have to hide what they are?”

“Of course I have.” Many, many times. “But that doesn’t make anything less dangerous for them.”

“Let them fight, Aunt Padmé. Let them work for a galaxy where they don’t have to hide. At least let Wapor give them the option when they’re old enough. He won’t before then. If I ever thought he would, I’d keep him away from them.”

It was a powerful argument. But it was still one which Padmé’s every pore revolted against. But even so, she only said, “Watch him around them. Please.”

When they went back in, they found Wapor leaning over the table, now silent, as Luke showed him some flattened reeds. “Those take a long time, don’t they?” he was asking.

“Lots,” said Leia. “But we have a lot more of them to do today.”

“That’s right,” said Padmé. She sat back down in her chair, and was next to Wapor. She gave him an encouraging smile, at least as much of one as she could muster.

missizzy — Fri, 14 Dec 2007 22:27:08 GMT

Probably didn't do too well on the final last night. By this morning, I was hoping to see something to cheer me up. But at first it looked like I wasn't going to see anything, because turns out the Daum player is a tempermental entity. I ended up pretty much missing the OD, but was able to see everything else, and by the end of the pairs just now, the quality was even decent!

It actually did cheer me up, if only because of all the twists and turns the event took! All the fretting about the Russian backroom people, but it seems they're not quite getting the job done here! Crossing my fingers that Delobel and Scheonfelder will be able to win their medal this time, though who wins gold at this point is still anyone's guess.
The men's event, on the other hand, will probably go to Takahashi if he skates clean. Though if he doesn't, Stephane could very well clinch it. That would definitely make up for how he's been doing lately. It would even make up for Johnny probably finishing off the podium now. The fall was painful to watch. To catch up to Evan on this one, he has to either hope Evan blows it or skate clean and with the quad, and with the foot injury he's probably not up to the latter. I just hope he remembers that getting through the event this time is still an improvement!
By the end of the ladies event, however, the true delight of the evening had made itself apparent. It was actually looking for a moment or so like the ladies might finish the evening in the exact reverse order of that in which they started! But it turns out the judges *really* like Yu-Na, and she finished in the lead anyway. And Mao in last place, four hundredths of a mark behind Kimmie? I don't think anyone saw that one coming! Plus even if Yu-Na has something of a hold on the gold, the rest is wide open. It *really* makes me wish I could watch tomorrow. I'm sure it'll be quite a show.
For the pairs, after the unexpected got itself out of the way by poor K&S apparently doing something illegal(overrotated the lift, I'd bet) may we have some more applause, please, for Pang and Tong? No, they weren't perfect or even the best, but they've been charming my toenails off lately. Good to see S&S in the lead, meanwhile, even if it's by so little. They'll have to skate clean tomorrow to keep it, certainly. Though the Zhangs' lift today nearly gave me a heart attack-he was suddenly wobbling badly. Forget ending the night in a close second place; Zhang Dan should thank her lucky stars she didn't end the night in the hospital!

Blizzard!

missizzy — Thu, 13 Dec 2007 19:36:25 GMT

Why'd it have to occur the day of the final? Now I have to venture out through about two feet of snow and still coming down! If this doesn't stop by tomorrow I might have to worry about my train. At the very least, it's going to be an even longer ride(I'd almost prefer a delay. Long enough a one and I'd be able to watch the first half of the Grand Prix longs after all), especially down to Penn. Good thing I opted for the later train down the Alexandria; as long as they arrive not later than an hour and a half after the stated arrival time I'll be fine(though I may miss lunch).
To break the mood, about 20 seconds of Sesame Street referencing the Beatles:

missizzy — Wed, 12 Dec 2007 01:53:19 GMT

Saw The Golden Compass today. I really wish it wasn't flopping, especially because it means the second movie probably won't get made now, and this movie would do much better if the other two were made.

But it does suffer by being too faithful to the book, and the book just having too much *stuff* in it. It might have been a calculated ploy to get cut the ending and hope to open the second movie with it, but at least that was one less piece of plot that needed to be crammed into two hours. Plus when you need to establish a world, and all the details about daemons, and convey it all to an audience that needs to understand them...during the first half of the movie, I was going, "Wait, they've left Oxford already? Wait, she's left Mrs. Coulter's already?" Once they got up north, things slowed down enough for breathing room and the director got to work, and I was pleased with the number of things they got right. The scene where they find Billy Costa filling into for Tony Makarios for instance-you could feel your blood run cold, and that it was Billy Costa here was heartbreaking-I wanted to kill the writers in a good way for that one. Nicole Kidman was perfect, of course, but Sam Elliot stole the movie as Lee Scoresby

missizzy — Mon, 10 Dec 2007 19:03:51 GMT

Sold several books back and got nearly a hundred bucks for them, once I was able to present proper ID! But I have now confirmed that my iPod really does need a new battery. It's going to be useless on the train ride; it won't even play half an hour without needing recharging now.
Vids continue to be removed from YouTube, but is it just me, or was this year's Cup of Russia the most homevidded event ever? It seems as if the audience wasn't taping the performances they were taping the coaches watching them or whoever was up next coming in and pacing by the boards, or they were taping the interviews afterwards. I've lost count of the number of people who taped Johnny and there were some people taping Stephane as well. Of course I doubt there'd be that many cameras at Skate America(though at North Atlantic Regionals this year, the no-taping rule was honoured more in the breach, but apparently it was rigidly enforced up north in New England). But now people have started editing the homevids:

missizzy — Sun, 09 Dec 2007 16:00:37 GMT

And with it not being possible to make the trip in on day on Sunday I've book my train ride home for this coming Saturday. It's going to be a *long* trip from Penn Station to Alexandria...
Over the past weekend I've started studying for the Records final and also cleaning out my bedroom. I cleared the deskside table yesterday and found some things that have been buried on there a year and a half! Under the bed's going to be even more of an adventure. That must be done Monday morning at the latest, because I'm going to be selling most of my books back, since I definitely will not be wanting to keep most of them after all. I'll also be taking a few home with me on Saturday; I want to have to move as few things as possible in January.

98th Padmé AU

missizzy — Fri, 07 Dec 2007 21:37:05 GMT

Title: Final System
Fandom: Star Wars
Character: Padmé/Anakin, Anakin Solo
Prompt: #5-Last
Word Count: 1232
Rating: PG-13
Author's Notes: Final installment in 'Till It Bleeds Daylight.

It was a desert planet, like the one on which their story had begun. Again there was a ship that had needed repairs. This time they had all the parts they needed, but they had even less time; two days had been hard enough then, two hours was turning fatal now. As hastily as they worked, Padmé and Anakin and young Anakin their grandson and the four young students with them knew as they finished and had the engine running again that they wouldn’t be able to outrace the Yuuzhan Vong. Unless someone took out one of the two fighter pilots and tried to hold the two ships off.

As soon as that reality sunk in, Padmé knew exactly what was going to happen.

Anakin’s words when he volunteered were what she knew he’d say. They distressed young Anakin, who desperately protested: they shouldn’t leave one of their own behind to just sacrifice himself like that, the might be able to make the jump to lightspeed in time-but his grandfather cut him off.

“You know this is the only way we can do this. I’ve had a good life. It’s all right.”

“He’s right,” said Padmé quietly. And everyone looked at her in shock. None of them had ever imagined she would ever stand by while her husband looked to more likely than not give his life.
But over this past year since this newest war had begun, Padmé had begun to understand that they were both getting tired. Two wars was enough for anyone to deal with; three was asking for too much. She didn’t think Anakin was quite aware that they were feeling this, but she was sure he was, same as her. And these children, like young Anakin, didn’t yet realize how many deaths they would endure before it was over. Losing Chewbacca at the beginning of it had been a hard blow for them all, harder, perhaps than this one would be, but if young Anakin himself lived another year he’d know worse: he’d know the blow of suffering death after death.

It was a pity that Anakin wasn’t really old, especially because Jedi took longer to age than other beings of their species. But often they went at about this age. Qui-Gon Jinn had been younger when he had met his death, and so had Obi-Wan, and even Mace Windu.

At least he could accept this one now, though Padmé worried about how he would deal with the full extent of it, which nobody yet knew but her. His shoulders sagged, and his nodded. “Very well. Let’s take off.”

As they alighted, all eyes were on the display that showed the transport in relation to the two Yuuzhan Vong seedships that were about to come out of hyperspace. They need to be clear of the planet enough to be able to launch fighters before they did so.

“Okay, that’s far enough,” said Anakin. There wasn’t even time for much farewell, but he very quickly hugged his grandson, and kissed Padmé hard. She leaned into it as much as she could for that split second it lasted, for this would be their last kiss, even if she wasn’t leaving him just yet. Then he turned and hurried towards the bay.

When Padmé moved to follow him, young Anakin put his hand on her arm. “Don’t, grandma. He’s said his goodbyes.”

“Then I shall say mine,” she replied, and turned and hugged her grandson, though she didn’t dare linger too long; time was getting shorter and shorter.

“But Your Majesty!” protested one of the students.

“Two fighters holding off two of those ships will increase your chances greatly,” she added, “and I’ve lived long enough.”

“Now, grandma, think.”

“I have thought.” The students had run up to her, she hugged each of them as quickly as she could. “I’ve thought over this past year. Contact the Naboo authorities and tell them they’ll need to elect a new monarch. Tell them I specifically want an election, voted on by all native Naboo and their children, whether they live on New Naboo or not.” That was for the better too; after Naboo’s destruction and her accepting of her old title permanently, out of seemed necessity, Padmé had never managed to get them to replace her while she still lived, but they would return to full democracy now at last. “I love you. Tell everyone goodbye for both of us.” Then she tore herself away and after her husband. The protests died behind her.

Anakin had already taken off by the time she reached the bay. Which meant there was noone to stop Padmé as she climbed into the second fighter and started the launch cycle. She now had no idea whether the Yuuzhan Vong ships were out of hyperspace or not, though with Anakin out there he could probably hold them off by himself no problem until she joined him.

He didn’t notice when the bay door started to open, but as it expanded and Padmé started to fly out into open space, her radio flared to life, and she heard Anakin’s voice say, “Padmé? Please say that isn’t you.”

But he didn’t even sound surprised. For all she knew, he’d sensed this coming, though he probably hadn’t wanted to believe it.

“They’re chances of escape will be better this way, Ani,” said Padmé, “and I don’t want to outlive you. We go together.”

She was just clear of the ship when the two Sh’rip Sh’pa appeared. They looked like two large haphazard jewels. If these were to be the last moments of her life, Padmé thought, she might as well be glad to see such beauty, however much ugliness lay within it.

“I’ll take the one on the right,” Anakin said over the radio. “Love you, Padmé.”

“Love you too.” She brought her fighter down on the left ship and opened fire.

Her ship rocked as she was hit by return fire. The shields would keep her alive for maybe half a minute, but that was all the time they needed to jump to lightspeed. Meanwhile, she had to stop the seedship from firing on its main target. One shot could disable the ship’s engines, after which they were all lost.

It wasn’t too hard, or at least didn’t seem to be, because Padmé found herself beyond worry now. All she had to do was get between the ship’s guns and the fleeing transport, and fire on them as she could. One eye remained on the ship. Only a few moments more and they would be gone...
The sound of an explosion stunned her, and she stared in the screen in a moment of disbelief. Anakin’s ship had been destroyed.

And now it turned out she wasn’t beyond emotion after all, though she still felt more shock than anything else. Anakin dead was incomprehensible. In this situation, at least, he should have been able to outmaneuver them longer than her!

As if on cue, the console began beeping, as she saw that her shield was gone.

Her comm turned on: her grandson. “Padmé, we’re ready to go, you should pull in-”

She took one look at the distance between her fighter and the ship and said, “Can’t. Go!”

Then one last bolt from the seedship’s blasters hit her, and with her last thought she could only hope they were obeying.

Two Down, One to Go

missizzy — Fri, 07 Dec 2007 12:36:25 GMT

Attended my last classes last night. Got a couple of useful tips for the Records final, and some interesting discussion in Management. I've deleted a whole bunch of files from the desktop related to both classes, and it now looks a lot less cluttered. Only the first of the tidying out I now have to do over the next week in preparation for moving, as well as studying for the final. But this afternoon I am venturing downtown to see The Golden Compass. I finally bought The Subtle Knife and have started on it as well.

One Down, I think

missizzy — Wed, 05 Dec 2007 23:54:01 GMT

Did the project presentation in System Analysis today. Didn't pull it off as well as I once might have hoped to. No longer care. Cramps mild. They'll probably wake me up early again tomorrow. At least all I really have left now is the Records final, though I have a final LIS 581 class tomorrow.
Some snow on the ground all week, melting and then being replenished at various intervals. Winds high as well, so it gets blown about. At some point during the next week I want to walk over to the other side of Creekside and locate the apartment I'll be moving into for next semester, but it keeps being too cold and windy to do so.
Christmas music constantly playing in the shuttle. Heard "Christmas Shoes" last night and it's been painfully stuck in my head ever since, but tonight there was "Snoopy's Christmas" to make up for it. Also heard "Blue Christmas"(couldn't escape that one very long). Hoping for the Muppets demanding figgy pudding before I go home.

"I am in intense pain, Pinky."

missizzy — Wed, 05 Dec 2007 10:49:57 GMT

I don't know what I'm going to do when I run out of that moitrin. Getting good painkillers perscribed for you is hit or miss(I once ended up with sometimes-effective arthritis medication that was pulled from the market months later for causing heart problems) and for the second month in a row my cramps have been terrible. They got me up early this morning so I could run downstairs and take a pill. It's still a long hour before it kicks in. I can only hope this afternoon's pill works so I can do the system analysis presentation.

missizzy — Mon, 03 Dec 2007 19:12:27 GMT

Comteplating lj's latest change of hands basically makes me sad. I won't even be affected by it at all; I'll be out of here long before SUP gets around to caring about me. But when you consider all the Russian bloggers on here, the ones that we the Westerners never notice because we tend to skip over things not written in our language, but I've recently read about, who have no doubt been depending on livejournal's foreign-owned server, the situation in their home country, which is definitely worse than that in ours, and what may now happen to their community, well, suddenly the difficulties of fandom seem to be the lesser story. Let us hope if worst comes to worst they can regroup on one of the clones. And note to fandom, as we watch whatever becomes livejournal's newest policies unfold: this time, it's not about us. Please to be keeping that in mind.
Speaking of drama queens, and of Russia, am I the only one who finds it incredibly amusing that hours after Johnny bitches about the USFSA in his journal his week-old interviews from Cup of Russia air on TV painting him as the virtuous reformed boy? Of course, that might have been because for some reason Carruthers didn't bring up the quad. I do hope he tries it at the GPF though; he still needs it to deal with Takahashi. Ideally, I'd have him win, win Nationals, have Brian win Europeans, and set up for a clash of the manly Frenchman and the American princess(Yep. The manly man is French and the ice princess is American. That'll confuse a few people!) in Sweden, since now they're not going to meet until then.

missizzy — Sun, 02 Dec 2007 13:01:19 GMT

Sinuses not happy about the snowstorm. I think I'm going to try dosing with the prescription moitrin before venturing out, though if it works it'll probably make me sleepy in the process, especially since I'm still low on sleep. I stayed up most of last night to watch the exhibition, and there were moments when I was tempted to just go to bed. But it was worth it, in the end, just to see this number, which isn't up on YouTube yet for its NHK performance, but was performed at Skate Canada as well:

missizzy — Sun, 02 Dec 2007 06:09:41 GMT

Snow's really falling out there. At this rate we'll be buried by morning. Not good; I have to buy groceries early afternoon, and drag them across two parking lots besides, since I've spent the past two days watching junior nationals.
A quick, non-spoilery comment on NHK: what was with all the Aqua Teen Hunger Force dolls making the rounds?

missizzy — Fri, 30 Nov 2007 12:15:12 GMT

Someone at GoldenSkate finally posted straightforward instructions for what buttons to press to make the Korean player that's been making the rounds play the figure skating stream. So I was able to watch the pairs free and ladies short today, with enough vids of Gordeeva and Grinkov put over the stream in between to make me teary-eyed(it was obviously someone streaming what they had playing on their own computer somewhere in Korea) and if things remain this straightforward I should be good for much of the rest of the year, though I may end up actually staying in Buffalo an extra day to watch the Grand Prix Finale. On the other hand, that means no sleep tonight whatsoever, and I only got about an hour or so last night, and there'll be a slight conflict with watching Junior Nationals, since the men's free starts an hour before it wraps up. When I'll already miss the first half of the juvenile girls free because I didn't take time zones into account when scheduling today's meeting with residence life. I hope they don't keep me too long.

Oh, Keuna and Rockne. You lucky kids. Yes, noone can argue they earned that silver medal today, but that's only because they were the only pair that skated well at all. Even S&S were subpar(though by the time they took the ice, they would have had to make everyone else's mistakes put together to not win) and looked very unhappy about it. Though the most painful sight was probably Tatiana Volovoshar's face after she and Stanislav Morozov completely blew it when they could have easily won the silver with a clean skate. Though I did note D&D are starting to get rid of the distance on their side by side spins. The scars healing over, hopefully.
After that, the ladies short was a relief. Only one fall(by Elene G, and after Skate America she appeared quite happy to take what was still a good skate), and only one truly bad skate(poor Mai Asada). Though as one person noted, Alissa(and personally I think Carolina-one of her jumps looked iffy on the replay) were lucky the technical caller apparently decided to suspend the downgrading rules. I'm not sure anyone got dinged at all. Now the question remains as to who can avoid melting down in the long. I suspect Carolina will not remain ahead of Miki ultimately, especially if the latter goes for the quad.

97th Padmé AU

missizzy — Fri, 30 Nov 2007 07:59:55 GMT

Posted in between following events in Japan at absurdly early hours in the morning, but that also gives me time to work on the project. And after last night's newest lj surprise, I can't get these finished and myself out of here fast enough-I'd have to make an unpleasant choice otherwise.

Title: Unpacking Bags
Fandom: Star Wars
Character: Padmé, Sola, Ryoo, Pooja
Prompt: #59-Food
Word Count: 978
Rating: PG
Author's Notes: Sequel to Chill Headaches and The Second Meeting.

People stopped and stared when they saw a woman as pregnant as Padmé walk down the road carrying a full sack in each hand. She was actually carrying the lightest two, at her nieces insistence; Ryoo carried the heaviest and Pooja the next-heaviest. But they were all loaded down with a week’s worth of food for seven people, one of whom was eating for three. Her family had tried to talk Padmé out of doing the shopping this week, but after two days of sitting in her room crying, then trying to work on her basket weaving, failing, and just crying more, Padmé had needed to do something like this. Especially after what she had sensed through the Force the previous night.

But she had the feeling she was going to start crying again when she got home and found Sola standing at the door, waiting for her, a solemn look on her face.

“Let me help you with those,” she said, and she took Pooja’s sack and one of Padmé’s. Without another word she led them inside and to the kitchen, and all four set to work putting things away.

Padmé had a piece of fruit in both hands and was stacking them on the chill-shelf when Pooja asked quietly, “Ma, is Anakin dead?” Padmé braced herself for the confirmation of what she had privately known for nearly 15 hours now.

“We still don’t know,” said Sola. “But...according to the news, Obi-Wan Kenobi is. Though he took Palpatine’s thug, Darth Vader, with him.”

“What happened?” asked Padmé, feeling guilty over her relief, especially since it didn't mean anyone was not dead; it just meant another person was.

“We can’t really know. The official report talks about him slipping into the Senate complex and attacking Vader and causing an explosion that killed them both, and that’s as likely an account as any, but we can’t rely on its truth. What we can rely on is that they’re both dead.”

A brave, desperate act. Padmé had never met Master Kenobi, and with her having been engaging in an illicit relationship with his former padawan she had hoped never to do so, but she would mourn for him.

“So Anakin might still be alive?” asked Ryoo.

“No,” said Padmé before Sola could answer. “He’s dead.”

“You don’t that, Padmé,” Sola started.

“No, actually, I do. He was killed last night. I don’t know how or where, but I felt his death.” She paused to take several tins out of the last sack and added, “Please don’t ask me anymore. I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t even want to think about it.”

Her hands trembled as she took the tins to their shelf. She heard her sister respond, “Padmé, I am sorry, but I must ask. How certain are you that Anakin Skywalker is dead?”

“Absolutely certain.” Her hands were now shaking so hard it was impossible for her to stack the tins straight, but she somehow managed to keep her voice even, so as to leave Sola no doubt at all.

She got back to the sacks and was unloading the rest of the tins before her sister spoke again. “Well then, Padmé, I really am sorry. We might not have really known Anakin, unfortunately, but I can understand how deeply you cared for him.”

Can you really? Padmé secretly wondered, though she knew it was unfair of her.

“Can Aunt Padmé get married now?” Pooja asked.

“Pooja!” Ryoo cried, shocked.

“But shouldn’t she?” Pooja protested. “When she was with Anakin obviously she couldn’t marry, but now that he’s dead, shouldn’t she get the babies a father?”

“If I married a man right now, it wouldn’t be fair to him,” Padmé answered, walking back to the tin shelf. “In the future, maybe.”

“How can it not be fair to Anakin?” Pooja had misunderstood. “He’s dead!”

“I think she means it wouldn’t be fair to the man she would be marrying,” said Ryoo. “I think she’s right, too.” She then lifted out the huge bottle of blue milk and tried to carry it across the kitchen, making grunting noises as she did so.

Sola took it from her with a “Let me handle that, dear. But Padmé,” she paused to put the bottle away. “We’re going to have to tell the others about this.”

“I know.” Padmé pick out the spice bag and sat down with it and the spice bottle. “And I will do it myself. You don’t have to do it for me and I don’t want you to.” The contents of the bag fit snugly into the bottle; they’d bought just the right amount. “Is that everything?”

Three of the sacks were empty, but the fourth had a huge lump still. Pooja reached in and heaved out the roast. She was a comic sight holding it out in front of her, tottering on both her feet.

Again Sola retrieved her daughter’s heavy burden. “Careful with that. Starting tomorrow night we’ll be eating that for the rest of the week.”

“And it sure looks yummy!” said Ryoo. “Didn’t you say it looked yummy, Aunt Padmé?”

“Yes, I did.” She had when they’d bought it. When she’d been younger this particular kind of roast had been her favorite.

“And she’s absolutely right to do so,” said Sola, who was putting it in ice.

“Then maybe it’ll make you feel better tomorrow night,” suggested Pooja. “I hope it does.”

Ryoo and Sola looked less hopeful, but Padmé said, “I think by tomorrow night I will feel a little better. Maybe after I’ve told the others. But I’m not ready to yet,” she hastily added when she saw Ryoo turned towards the exit. “Maybe later this afternoon.”

“Of course,” said Sola, who pulled her younger sister into a tight hug. “Meanwhile, is there anything...”

“Probably not. I’m sorry.”

missizzy — Wed, 28 Nov 2007 23:52:41 GMT

So not certain it I have to go to LIS 581 tomorrow, but have the sinking feeling I will have to. Too bad. I would have liked more time to do the final Records Management assignment. Will work on most of that tommorrow, spend the weekend watching Junior Nationals, meeting with Residence Life again, and working frantically to finish work on Systems Analysis project. Doing exactly what partner asks now; I've lost the will to care whether or not she actually finishes the rest or if we did the same amount of work. Will have to pause at some point to make contribution to 581 group assignment, but after next Thursday or Friday or so, all I'll have to worry about is the Records final.

MTV Gothic Dream

missizzy — Sun, 25 Nov 2007 13:04:51 GMT

Last night I dreamed I was inside what was supposed to be the music video for R. Kelly and Celine Dion's duet "I'm Your Angel"(I've never seen the actual video). Or at least, there was a man and a woman singing said duet and they were supposed to be R. Kelly and Celine Dion, though the man looked nothing like R. Kelly and the woman didn't look much like Celine Dion. Of course, part of that might have been that they were evil vampires and were thus covered with ridiculous glittery costumes and make-up. They were in their rich wooden mansion and their being evil vampires while singing this song was supposed to be ironic, though they certainly were supposed to be deeply in love with each other. Then when it came time for the final chorus they pulled a lever and a bunch of good men in Victorian suits tied to chairs and partly gagged(though they could still sing) came out of the floor to be the background singers. But then they broke free and started chasing the two singers around. At one point it looked like R. Kelly had been staked and Celine was devastated, but then it turned out he was okay, but one of the men, played by Christopher Lee, had chased Celine up the stairs to the landing. She ended up in an alcove, concealed from everyone's view, and we see him push the stake forward and the Buffy-style dustcloud, though we don't actually see her being killed-very poetic. Even so, there's no doubt that she's dead, even if R. Kelly wasn't earlier. He went absolutely mad with grief, then managed to procur a stake and ran out into the hall. The men, the other viewers who have managed to appear at some point, and myself all followed him convinced he's going to kill himself. We found him at a fancy display table with display panels, jabbing the stake into one of them, trying to break it. Everyone looks on in curiousity, but I suddenly decide I don't want to know and turn and run for the doors, which are made of wood but have modern metal bars across them which you use to push them open. I'm nearly there when I suddenly realize he's going to make the mansion explode and everyone else will die with him as punishment for too much curiousity. But I'm only getting there when I hear beeping indicating he's broken the panel, and I'm only looking outside into the night when I hear the explosion. I don't feel it though, and I woke up before I could figure out whether I survived or not. I had the feeling I should have though, according to the rules of the morality tale.

96th Padmé AU

missizzy — Fri, 23 Nov 2007 15:13:58 GMT

Posted quickly between the warm-up groups for the ladies short. Though the way my computer's lagging, Suguri's probably finished skating by now.

Title: The Remains
Fandom: Star Wars
Character: Padmé, her family, and some other Jedi
Prompt: #73-Light
Word Count: 1460
Rating: G
Author's Notes: From Till It Bleeds Daylight.

As Coruscant has been rearranged to suit the New Order, part by part, sometimes literally piece by piece, the once proud Jedi Temple had been dismantled, at least on the surface. As a result, it took the surviving members of the old Jedi Order a little time to locate where it had once stood. It shouldn’t have; they should have been able to sense it through the Force. But the Empire had taken its toll of the Force too on Coruscant; Anakin described it to Padmé as “cloudy.”

In the end they had to combine their senses with statistical data dug up from the bottom of Coruscant’s computers before they finally zeroed in. But when a small group of Jedi, accompanied by Padmé, came to the sight and started traveling down, they soon found their efforts to have been worth it. The Jedi Temple had extended much further down than many of Coruscant’s structures, and many of its depths remained still untouched.

Not as much as Padmé initially thought though. As the small band entered the familiar looking corridors, the Dark Woman shook her head. “Sidious has been down here. He probably purged the computers as well.”

“Let’s keep going,” said Whie Malreaux. “He might not have gone all the way down.”

Even though she’d studied an old map of the Temple, Padmé hadn’t really fathomed just how far deep it did go down. The lifts were long broken and rusted, so they had to go on foot, and Padmé’s started to ache as she started to think they must have descended a mile. All around them it grew eerily quiet, Padmé noting the sudden absence of sounds she’d barely registered when she’d first landed on Coruscant and then paid no attention to at all until now, when they were gone. And Jedi boots made so little sound that her own shoes, chosen for sturdiness instead of stealth, rung in all their ears.

At last after Padmé had lost all track of time T’ra Saa said, “I don’t think anyone’s been here at all for far more than twenty-five years. We need only go a little further.”

About ten minutes more and Padmé saw her husband and children all start to smile and breath easier. Even she felt a change in the environment, though she couldn’t pinpoint just where in it, that made her feel better, as if it was easier to breath. She started looking around at the other Jedi for a hint of when they were going to stop.

It was another few minutes when T’ra Saa ordered a stop. As if by prior agreement, the group of Jedi gathered in a circle and knelt down facing each other. They all closed their eyes.

And then, nothing happened. Padmé stood there, watching them do nothing, feeling no change, assuming something was going on but that it was beyond her limited senses to perceive. She started to wonder why she’d asked to come along. Because someone has to report back to the Senate, she reminded herself. Someone has to give them their reassurances. I’m not sure what I’ll say about this bit, but I’ll think of something.

And she could try to think of something right now, too, since at the moment she had nothing else to do.

She considered the Jedi before her. T’ra Saa, the Dark Woman, whose original name Padmé still didn’t know, Quinlan and Sheldi Vos, Cerni Olanga, Whie Malreaux, Cortin Klistorin, and her own family. Only six of the ten had even lived in the original temple, though Anakin had been there once long ago, and of those, two had been forced to flee at very young ages. She could call this the older Jedi teaching the younger ones about their past, telling them about it, since she was sure they were, in this mystical manner. In the case of the Voses, there was even a father teaching his daughter.

Eventually Padmé did start to sense a change in the air again, this time it was one she couldn’t describe at all, but she knew it was happening, and that it was coming from the ten Jedi in their circle near where she stood.

She could also sense it growing, extending down the corridors, back the way they had come, while around her there was a strange thickness, one that felt soothing on her heart. She closed her eyes and tried to focus on it, identify it, at least feel more of it.

She might have actually stood there for a very long time. She opened her eyes later and found everything appearing as she had left it, but she hadn’t thought to bring a chronometer and down here time was impossible to keep track of without one.

And then, to her great surprise, Anakin, Luke, Leia, and T’ra Saa all opened their eyes, and in one movement together, turned their heads towards her. “Come join us, Padmé,”said T’ra Saa.
Confused, but not at all reluctant, Padmé knelt down between her husband and daughter. She felt both of them touch her shoulders and their minds brush into hers, followed by Luke’s, then by the others.

She wasn’t sensing their thoughts, exactly, but she was given an awareness of what they were perceiving, almost like she was hearing an echo. She had felt the Force before, in the final days of her pregnancy, so she recognized it; it was like being greeted by an old friend that she had expected to never see again.

She was aware, also, that her companions were searching for something. She could not tell what, but even so she tried to find it for them, scanning what they sensed as best she could.
Then she felt a gentle touch from the minds of her family, and the very vague feeling that there was something going amiss, which alarmed her, all the more so because she had no hope of knowing what it was. What is it? What is it? She tried to actively think it at them, even though she knew they couldn’t even read each other’s exact thoughts, let alone hers.

But her panic was strong enough to them to feel, and Anakin’s mind touched hers again, giving her a feeling of looking, or a need to look, without trying to search for anything in particular. So nothing amiss, she thought with relief, she’d just misunderstood the situation.
She looked. At least that was the best way to describe what she did, there was no way to truly describe it.

She saw/felt/sensed something very strong, something very good, and she was aware that they were all focused on it. She wished she could tell what it was. She wondered if even the others could tell what it was.

They were taking it, whatever it was. She was helping them. She didn’t even have to consciously think about it; she was just doing it. It was coming into them, and now she knew more of it, knew that it was memory, more than anything else, though that wasn’t all it was, it was life and death and the Force and there could be great knowledge here, though she couldn’t access it; maybe the others could.

And then, suddenly, it was over, the rush of strange half-illumination. So was their meditation; Padmé came back to the mundane with a cold, hard start and nearly fainted at the suddenly snapping of the links from her mind to those of the others. She struggled to breath, her gasps echoing in her ears, still the only sound in the area.

Then she felt hands on her, and the three alarmed faces of her family, and Luke’s worried voice: “We forgot; she couldn’t come down like we could. Oh mother, so sorry...”

“Don’t fuss,” said the Dark Woman. “She’ll be fine in another moment.”

“Is that any way to be grateful?” Leia rose to her feet. “We owe her for what we’ve just done.”

“And we all thank you for it, Your Majesty.” T’ra Saa had come over and was helping Padmé to her feet.

“I thank you in return, Master,” Padmé automatically replied. She wondered exactly what it was she had done, or had been, that had proved so important in what she assumed to be some sort of retrieval of old knowledge. She wondered if her family would be able to explain it to her in words she could understand. Mostly likely, she knew, she would never know what had just happened, exactly.

“Well, we are done here,” said T’ra Saa, and the others were all getting up and into a group together. “Let us depart; it’ll take some time to get back up and out of here as it is.”

What I am Thankful For

missizzy — Thu, 22 Nov 2007 11:46:06 GMT

The roommate has gone off with her family leaving me free to enjoy today's roast chicken in peace, quiet, and a warm kitchen.

I don't have to go to class today when the lake effect has abruptly reasserted itself with a vengeance over the past couple of days(Not looking forward to buying groceries this weekend though).

Johnny Weir won the Cup of China, and very fortunately his wife's injury wasn't as bad as it initially seemed and she and their husband will be recovered in time for Nationals(just hope they make the podium).

I have only one thing left to do in two of my classes and two things in the third, and in that one the second is the final exam.

The Muppet Show, and that someone on YouTube finally translated what Rita Moreno was saying(and it wasn't dissimilar from what she said it meant):