been actively avoiding posting this but fuck it , modern au time ( i just wanted to draw hux in a tweed suit jacket)
anyways, this thing took me two-ish weeks to finish cus 70% of the way through finishing it i scrapped phas and hux's pose and redid it from scratch, so if you want to see that here's the link for it + alt colors
Inspired by "Implicit Demand for Proof" by imperialhuxness
-1-
“I need you on the ground,” Ren says instead, measured, but tight-strung as a grappling cable. Apparently sensing the retort on the tip of Hux’s tongue, he continues, “But I’m not taking you into the thick of combat.”
Hux thins his lips, keeps up the patient tone. “That’s where this team and I will be most effective.”
“At too high a risk.”
Since when do you care about risks? Hux barely bites back, instead manages, level, “Nothing we do is without risk.”
Ren’s gaze flashes with an insistence that isn’t anger. His eyes are like coals, waiting for a spark. “I’m not taking you into that firefight.”
Really.
Fucking really.
“So you won’t take me into a firefight,” Hux lowers his voice to a hiss, but it still reverbs under the high ceiling, “yet you dragged me ten klicks below the surface of Coruscant.”
“Well, maybe I--” Ren hesitates, gnawing his lips. His gaze drops to the mosaic tile between their boots, then flickers back to Hux’s face. “I shouldn’t have.”
Hux is too pissed off to bask in the near-admission of wrong. “Well, you can compensate by bringing me this time, when it makes actual, tactical sense.”
“You’re not going into a combat zone.”
“I was born and raised in a--”
Ren’s voice drops to a whisper. “That’s an order,” he says, invoking it almost gently, below earshot of the men.
Hux purses his lips, aware of his surroundings again. Of the absolute indecorum of this argument.
Around himself and Ren, three officers stare at their feet, four tap too aggressively at their datapads. The two trooper commanders confer in whispers about a new blaster model. Mitaka seems interested in the mosaic on the floor.
“Yes, sir,” Hux forces out, Academy pert, and the gathered staff returns more or less to professional attention.
---
-2-
Hux whirls toward the sound as a massive shape bursts through the treeline, scattering leaves. Some sort of megafauna. Some sort of monster.
The creature’s smooth skin glistens livid green, its underbelly sickly pale. Its mouth opens wide, baring short, sharp teeth like a Rodian fly-trap’s. It has six legs, each ending in a crustacean pincer, which stab the ground with each step. It reeks of rot and salt, as if it just crawled out of brackish water.
Hux’s pulse skyrockets, and he jumps back on adrenaline. Why do you ever leave the ship, every time you leave the ship it’s some shit like this, every goddamn time—
He yells to Ren that they should run, even as the creature screeches again, lunges toward them.
But Ren stays put. “You should run.”
And Hux would. He would, but he’s already several meters back, and the soles of his boots weigh a kiloton. He’s rooted to the ground. The blood pounds in his ears, and he can’t move, can’t think.
The thing screeches. It’s high-pitched. It rends the air. Its movements ruffle the foliage around it. Its pincers break the damp earth.
Ren steps in front of Hux. Into its path.
---
-3-
But Yago’s lips still twist into something unbearably self-satisfied. “General Armitage Hux,” he says, “was executed six months ago on a charge of high treason. So even if Hux were alive, it would be my sworn duty to have him shot in the back of the head.”
It hits like a blow. Phantom pain lances through his leg, between his ribs. Yago’s right. There’s no defense when he’s--
Before Hux can formulate one, Ren’s gaze kindles. “I’m Supreme Leader,” he returns, typical thoughtless clapback. “I hereby pardon him.”
(Typical thoughtless clapback.)
Everyone knows traitors receive no mercy.
---
-4-
A humanoid figure emerges from the shadows like he’s been waiting there. In two strides, he closes the distance to Hux and Ren. It’s clear he’s part alien, skin teal-tinged and marked with pale striations. His voice is somewhat rough with drink, but his movements are smooth, purposeful, eyes trained on Hux.
“Thought you could just slip out with your date?” he spits.
There are far bigger concerns than correcting the assumption.
“What?” Hux returns, elegantly.
“The bartender told me you were coming this way,” the man says, ill-concealed rage contorting his mouth. “Got a lot more nerve than I’d give you credit for, showing your face like this.”
Shit. Hux’s pulse picks up, and for a second the alley takes on the sharp edges of panic. You knew this would happen eventually, you knew -- Stop.
“I’m sorry,” he says, tamping down the worst case scenario, “what are you--”
But it’s like he doesn’t even hear it.
“Kind of man that’ll pull a trigger from a thousand lightyears away. Not even the guts to look at what you’d done.” The man’s eyes flash with the sort of hatred Hux actually recognizes. “My wife was on Courtsilius, General Hux .”
The man takes a step closer, and Hux is about to spread his hands and explain with a baffled simper that he’s got the wrong person. That the Hosnian ‘Cataclysm’ was an unspeakable tragedy and a monstrous war crime.
But before he can speak, sulfurous green ignites in his periphery. The air hums, cracks with the sudden whiff of ozone. The blade of the antique saber impales the man’s chest.
---
-5-
Ren shakes his head. “But I still need you,” he says, eyes glittering, desperate, searching. “What about weapons dev? And you can actually conduct diplomacy--”
Hux cracks a smile. “That’s going a bit far.”
Ren huffs a laugh, but doesn’t indulge him. “You balance me,” he continues. “I don’t know what I’ll do. I love you.”
Hux’s pulse drops into his stomach. His spine stiffens, more from surprise than actual discomfort. It isn’t a concept with which he’s familiar. But it’s right, somehow. As Ren’s eyes search his face, curious but unshrinking, he can’t deny it.
I feel like in the rush of “throw out etiquette who cares what fork you use or who gets introduced first” we actually lost a lot of social scripts that the younger generations are floundering without.
A lot of tough situations where we now feel like we “don’t know what to do or say” had social scripts just a couple of generations ago and they might have been canned phrases or robotic actions but they could still be meant sincerely and unfortunately we haven’t replaced them with any more sincere or easier new script.
a lot of people are giving examples in the notes of things they just find annoying like not using headphones in public, but OP is talking about actual literal scripts of things to say in awkward situations
if you have a date or two with someone and you don't see a relationship developing? most millennials / gen Zers just end up ghosting. but a social script that might have been taught and rehearsed in the past could be:
"I really appreciated getting dinner with you the other night and I enjoyed your company, but I'm afraid I didn't feel a spark. I wish you the best, and hope you find that special someone!"
like it sounds kind of trite but it was at least something to say and it can still be meant with kind sincerity. it also communicates in 2 sentences that you don't want to see them romantically again, but there aren't any hard feelings about that. that's it!!! that's all it takes!!!
Another example is that at parties a lot of people talk about how awkward it is to mingle or talk to people they dont know. But at old timey parties that was traditionally the HOST'S job, and there was a specific scripted way of doing it that eased the process! The host would bring you in, introduce you and maybe even a little bit about you like what you did for a living, and then guide you to a group you could talk to. They didn't just let you in the door and then ditch you to fend for yourself in a sea of strangers. That would be unthinkable and no one would be surprised if a get-together like that wound up being awkward.
I still do the party-host thing and yall can, too! (Thanks Mad Men for teaching me a lot of outmoded social scripts... no really tho)
Remember things about your friends! Ask people about their weekends, hobbies, holidays, studies, and jobs! Listen for the concerns people have and what they are working on! Draw connections between one person and another to get the ball rolling. "Oh, Maura, you just got your first cat! You should talk to Felix, he used to work at a rescue. Felix, please tell Maura all the new-cat-guardian pointers."
"Bill, Sheila, Xan, this is my friend Kale. Kale is really into Star Trek, Bill you and them should talk about it!"
Orrr whatever! After you make the introduction and draw the connection you just float on into the next interaction with someone else at the function. Just listen, care about your friends, get our of your own head, and think of how you can bring other people together and you will feel 100% less awkward.
hi i am so excited about this post because i have posted this exact thing MANY times on here, often in the specific context of how formal etiquette is so useful for autistic people especially, but also for everyone. even if you come off a little bit formal, which you will sometimes, having Old School Manners (or just knowing what they are) for various common scenarios is like having a magic ticket that will just sail you through all kinds of social iinteractions, gatekeeping, social weirdness, and as is pointed out in the above posts about introducing people to each other, can make you into a really valuable and helpful person for an entire gathering or group of people.
i also want to point out that knowing what the polite thing to do in all situations makes you a lot more effective at being rude and obnoxious when the situation calls for it, which is also a valuable and necessary adult skill
I need to think about this properly, but I posted a while ago about how we did present practice once (roleplayed various ways to receive presents with the kids, practicing different social scripts). I am comfortable in my position that this is a perfectly reasonable game to teach children, and that the skills received are useful in life. I heard from a lot of people saying this was a good idea, and a few people who hated it because it was “training the kids to be artificial”, “not genuine,”etc.
One person in particular really felt passionately about how abusive this game was. It was abusing the children, they wrote to me, and as a neurodiverse person they felt such social expectations were violently oppressive.
I felt like there was more to it, like their reaction was really about something else, so i went to their blog, and they had a lot of posts about how they are autistic and used a mobility aid and service animal. All of these presented challenges. They obviously had a lot going on in their life, none of which is to do with my family, but what got me was their venting about people interacting with them, their service animal and their mobility aid.
“People look at my service animal all the time,” they said angrily.
“Parents, teach your children IN PRIVATE about my mobility aid, not out loud where I can hear it.”
“Children bump into me in public. Nobody is teaching them to accommodate disabled people.”
“Children are overstimulating to me. There should be areas where children don’t go if they can’t behave properly, or if they’re too young for that, if their parents can’t control them.”
“I shouldn’t be expected to accomodate other people in public. People have to accommodate me.”
So I realised: okay, there’s a massive disconnect here, and it’s nothing to do with me.
But more broadly, on this website, people do appreciate that a well-behaved adult is someone who can accomodate other people. Well-behaved children and nicely-trained adults don’t pet service animals. Respectful people are conscious of how to give space to people with canes. Polite people wait for others to finish sentences. People with good manners behave graciously with minor inconveniences, even if they don’t want to. If a human being is a bundle of “natural impulses” then a person with additional training can control those. A human with reasonable social training can politely control their impulses to pet animals, make loud comments, and stare at things that are different.
This person was quite reasonable in their genuine belief that other people should accommodate their needs. And they’re right! People genuinely should be doing more for them - calculating how much space they need, yielding it graciously, and sensitively picking up on the fact that they could use patience, attention, space, and accommodation. This person and their service animal should be treated with more respect and better manners everywhere they go!
But all of that is training. To get everyone to do that involves teaching behaviours that are considered “polite” and explaining how “natural” impulses aren’t always polite. It’s a process of education, it isn’t innate to the animal, and someone has to do it. It’s usually taught in childhood, often by parents. You could, perhaps, make it fun though.
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