my petty gripe about anachronism in historical/fantasy/spec-fic worlds is attraction language.
Weâve all heard the âshould you use modern queer labels or notâ argument but honestly even when people go âtrue, they wouldnât use the labels âaromanticâ or âasexual,ââ so often the characters describe their experiences as âI never felt romantic attractionâ or âI donât feel attracted to anyoneâ in ways that makes me go. You are stilllllll thinking about this in an extraordinarily modern online way. That 19th century steampunk detective man will NOT be angsting about having never felt romantic attraction, he would be angsting about being unable to feel moved by the beauty or charm of a woman, or something. And I do think that âattractivenessâ language is different from the identity-level idea of experiencing attractionâSherlock Holmes does not talk about not experiencing attraction, but when Watson says âWhat a very attractive woman!â Holmes responds âIs she? I did not observe.â (And then Watson calls him an inhuman automaton and calculating-machine and Holmes calls Watsonâs judgement biased). Never swayed by the attractiveness of a man or woman, never desirous of marriage, never charmed by the delights of love, all of these feel like some of the variety of ways that someone in this milieu might describe an ace- or aro-spectrum identity more than ânever felt attractionâ does. Mostly because, like the terms for aromantic and asexual themselves, nailing down an exclusively attraction-based definition of a-spec identities is a relatively new and extremely post-AVEN thing. And yet in fiction everybody knows to articulate their experience as feeling sexual/romantic attraction. And I always want to go nooo how would THIS character think about it?? Not how you think this character SHOULD think about it, how would THIS person in THIS context articulate their feelings?
The gang saying âthe chicken is not amusedâ all the time after any minor inconvenience cause itâs a funny little inside joke but they say it so much that they forget other people have no fucking clue what theyâre talking about
So when Ryker holds Hiccup at knife and he just says âthe chicken is not amused with this Rykerâ heâs so stunned that Hiccup manages to escape
I can't lie, I was pretty disappointed with how the reunion with Joker went in ME2. Out of all the characters, his should have been the most emotionally impactful (he saw Shepard die!!) yet all we got was "Sup?" as though Joker wouldn't have spent the 2 years dealing with insane survivor's guilt. Well to that I say pthhbt. My Shepard would have been beside herself seeing him again for the first time, so he's getting hugged whether he likes it or not.
Also while this is technically part of my ongoing Shakarian comic, please feel free to interpret this as romantic as well as platonic.
Bilbo barely passed Old Took's record lifespan after having a supernaturally-life-extending ring for 60 years. which begs a question. what the hell did Old Took do
I have a theory that somewhere back up the line gandalf fucked a took. This sounds like complete crack but hear me out. The tooks are rumored to have âfairy bloodâ which in LOTR terms means either elves or maia. There is an ancestor whoâs unusually tall and many of them are noted to live unusually long lives unless they meet with illness or injury, same as the numenorians did. They donât hve extra pointy ears and elves donât have a special interest in the line. But who DOES have a special interest in looking after tooks (and bilbo who is a took on his motherâs side/his adopted son frodo)? Gandalf. That dude is ALWAYS fussing over some silly little guy. He regularly brought the old took birthday presents.
Back in the day some bold hobbitess decided to climb that old man and ever since then gandalf has been looking after his line of tiny crazy bastards and no one will convince me otherwise.
It's not an "abandoned" WIP, I didn't intentionally leave it in the forest to die and forget about it, it is a lost wip who wandered into the forest despite my pleas not to. I sit at the edge of the forest every day and hear it calling for help but there is nothing I can do. It is a haunting wip
This is proof that it's not just a generational thing and that there's no overarching reason that Boomers are assholes. The ones who are assholes are just assholes by choice.
Summary: Commander Cody meets his assigned general, Obi-Wan Kenobi, for the first time. Growing up with legends of the Jedi gave Cody an image of the perfect warrior he'd carried for 10 years. The Jedi in front of him was not what he had in mind.
Notes: This ended up being an ode to Obi-Wan, but I mean, what doesn't. I have a HC I've held onto for awhile that the clones had these grand, mythical images of the Jedi in their minds because they only heard stories of them on Kamino, and then as each commander/captain meets their Jedi, that image is torn to pieces in the best way. Hope you enjoyed this meeting with Obi-Wan and Cody!
WC: 2.7K
Tags: Obi-Wan Kenobi, Commander Cody, Platonic Obi-Wan and Cody, first meetings
On AO3
There were 3 things Cody was absolutely certain of:
He is a Marshal Commander in the Grand Army of the Republic, leader of the 212th, responsible for 1000s of his brothers
He is assigned to General Obi-Wan Kenobi, member of the Jedi Council, and a warrior of legend if the rumors were anything to listen to
His general just walked into a droid and apologized to it
Cody reported to the briefing room at exactly 0757 giving him three minutes to collect himself before meeting his assigned general. A current buzzed through the clone commanderâs blood when he heard he was meeting his Jedi because, for 10 years, Cody and his brothers heard legends of the warriors they would one day serve under to protect the Republic, and, yet, Obi-Wan Kenobi impressively erased 10 years of legends in 20 seconds.
At 0759, the door to the briefing room opened, and Cody turned his attention to the figure walking in. First, he noticed that instead of being clad in head-to-toe armor, the man wore a simple tunic and pants spun from basic, beige fabric, brown leather boots, and a matching wide belt around his waist. An unimposing silver and black cylinder hung on his hip. The stranger continued to make his way into the room, but a GNK droid crossed his path, and instead of swerving out of the droidâs way, he ran right into the corner of it. The impact wasnât enough to topple the droid over, but the man stumbled, planting his hands on top of the GNK to regain his balance.
âApologies little one. I wasnât watching where I was going,â The man said while he gave the droid a little pat.
âGONK GONK,â the droid waddled on its way.
Cody was thankful for the helmet hiding his face because he was sure his expression was an even mix of bewilderment and shock.
While growing up, entertainment wasnât easy to come by on Kamino, and a favorite past time amongst the cadets was retelling the latest story from Kal Skirata. Skirata was one of the mandalorians Jango Fett recruited to assist with the training of the clone troopers, and true to his Mandalorian roots, he took the cadets under his wing, treating them like his children rather than just soldiers for cannon fodder. During their breaks, heâd gather them around and tell stories of his encounters with the Jedi, a circle of cadets hanging onto his every word, eyes brighter than twin suns. When training was finished for the day, imaginations running wild, the younglings would run to the barracks or mess hall, wherever their brothers were gathered, and reenact what they just heard. Â
Cody wasnât immune to the fantasy, caught in the deep fascination of the force-wielders that had taken hold of his brothers. Heâd never confess to it, but he and Wolffe would sneak into the supply closets, grab a couple brooms, and put on their best lightsaber duels. Bly walked in on them once. He only promised to keep quiet after Wolffe let him participate.
So, as it goes, an army raised in isolation grasped onto the legends of warriors with 10 years of time to conjure up images of the Jedi theyâd call generals and commanders. Cody kep his image in mind. It wasnât what was in front of him. Call him naĂŻve, but he didnât think a ruthless warrior who could take down any being in the galaxy while levitating the objects around them would be walking into GNK droids, let alone gently patting it with an apology.
Perhaps this wasnât Obi-Wan. Maybe this was a messenger, a new Jedi in training, here to tell Cody that Obi-Wan was running late with council duties, on his way back from taking down a planet-wide coup he resolved single-handedly with nothing but his lightsaber and his wit.
But the man continued into the room, giving a look back at the GNK waddling to its destination, and then making his way around the table to Cody. His stride gave an illusion of sure confidence, but Codyâs training caught the miniscule hesitations in the swing of his arms and darting around of soft blue eyes that gave away the manâs nerves. Once again Cody found himself questioning if this was actually one of the steadfast legends heâd grown up hearing about.
The man came to a stop in front of him, a warm smile peaking from under a trimmed, ginger beard. Hand stretched out, those blue eyes focused on the T of Codyâs visor.
âHello there. Iâm Obi-Wan Kenobi. Iâm to meet CC-2224 here, and seeing as youâre the only other person in the room, am I correct to assume thatâs you?â
Fitting his hand with the Jediâs, Cody responded, âYes, sir. CC-2224 reporting for duty. Itâs an honor to meet and serve with you, sir.â
As Cody spoke, he caught a faint grimace on Obi-Wanâs face that disappeared as quickly as it came.
âI apologize, Commander, I mean no disrespect by my question, but do you perhaps go by something besides a number? I understand the Kaminoans are efficient, and Iâm happy to address you by whichever identity you choose, but I, well, addressing a being by a number seems, impersonal,â Obi-Wan stammered through his question, crimson rushing to his cheeks but sincerity in his eyes. Cody was stunned. Why would a commanding officer care about what they called him?
âThe Kaminoans only address us by number, sir, but most troopers choose a name before shipping off. Sometimes itâs chosen by us, and sometimes itâs chosen by our brothers. You can call me Cody, sir.â Pride coating his words, he felt his mind relax when he saw the smile on the Jedi grow.
âVery well. Commander Cody, itâs an honor and pleasure to meet you. I imagine weâll be spending a lot of time together over the unknown future. Although, Iâm sorry that itâs come to this for us meeting each other.â
Obi-Wan was setting a record for number of times you can surprise someone in a minute. All of their lives, the clones were told it was their purpose to serve under the Jedi and protect the Republic â this was inevitable. Why was his general sorry that the inevitable was happening? That the very reason for Codyâs existence was in motion?
âNot to worry, sir. This is what ââ
Obi-Wan quickly raised his hand to halt Cody, âApologies again Commander, but by any chance you wouldnât mind removing your helmet?â
Codyâs eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but his arms automatically reached up, grabbing hold of the bucket and lifting it off his head. Muscle instinct tucked it to his left side all the while trying to not give away his growing puzzlement. There were a million more of him, he was nothing to look at. He was quite literally created to die, copies of him in every corner of the GAR, and it didnât matter if the Jedi in front of him knew his face or not.
âAs I was saying, sir, this I what we were made for, my brothers and I. War is inevitable for us,â Cody simply explained.
He gave credit to the Jedi, Obi-wan was good at masking. To an untrained eye, heâd seem indifferent, but the sorrow in his eyes and quick down-twitch of his lips told Cody a different story. Obi-Wan was disturbed by what he heard.
âAh, well. Iâm sorry thatâs the truth of your creation, Commander. I want to assure you though, youâre not,â Obi-Wan paused, eyes darting as he grasped what to say. âYouâre not war fodder. Not to me. To any of us. The Jedi. You are men, and men Iâm responsible for. Iâm learning on the go, but be assured that the well being of your brothers, of our men, is my top priority. I will employ every strategy to ensure a victory for the Republic, but most importantly, a victory for them.â
The sky blue of Obi-Wanâs eyes transformed into stormy grey, as ruthless and firm as the sincerity in his pledge to the commander.
âThat. That means a lot to me and my men, sir,â Cody felt his response weak compared to the conviction in Obi-Wanâs voice, but it was all he could think of as his brain continued to short circuit, adjusting to the reality introduced to him over the last few minutes.
âI look forward to meeting them.â A hand swept through long, ginger hair, pushing it behind an ear, and Obi-Wan took this time to look around the briefing room, seeming to take it in for the first time. âIâll be honest with you Commander, this is all very new to me. Iâm sure it comes as no surprise that diplomatic negotiations require different tactics than battles. Usually much shorter.â Obi-Wan gave a sly smirk.
âThat may be so, sir, but rumor around the barracks is youâve seen some impressive combat in the recent years. You could say the boys of the 212th are excited to serve under the only Jedi to face two Sith lords in a century. Please excuse their eager questions when they meet you. You might be the closest thing to a celebrity they have.â
If possible, the blush on Obi-Wanâs cheeks deepened to a red that would match the Corrie Guardâs armor. His left arm hugged around his waist while his right elbow rested atop its wrist, his hand resting under his chin, absentmindedly stroking his beard. The Jediâs eyes thought the ground around Codyâs boots was the most interesting spot in the room, and the commander held in an astonished laugh as he realized the Jedi was embarrassed.
âKal Skirata is one heck of a storyteller,â Cody thought.
Finding the scene in front of him too amusing, Cody remained quiet as Obi-Wan worked through what to say. His mouth opened and close, little stammers making their way past his lips, but he eventually worked his way to words.
âThatâs, uh, very kind of you to say, Commander.â Obi-Wan rubbed the back of his neck. âThey were, uh, duels of necessity. I try not to make a habit of engaging with Sith.â
âEither way, itâs still an honor, sir, and nothing to take lightly. Iâm sure some of the boys will try to see those combat skills up close in the rec room,â Cody hoped his attempt at banter would put Obi-Wan at ease, and he was awarded with a soft chuckle, the Jedi back to stroking his beard.
âNot something Iâm unfamiliar with. My padawan was always eager to mention to whoever would listen that he trains with the âSith slayerâ, as the other younglings nicknamed me. Always amusing how obvious little ones are when they think theyâre being subtle. Not hard to eavesdrop when their idea of a whisper is a normal conversation.â As he spoke, Obi-Wanâs attention focused out the window that overlooked the Coruscant skyline. Fondness took root in his gaze, and Cody recognized it easily. Kamino wasnât blankets and bedtime stories, but his brothers gave him memories scattered through his upbringing that prompted the same look the Jedi currently held.
âPadawan, sir? Not familiar with the term.â Cody decided to prolong this moment for the general, if not just for a little longer.
âYes, padawan. I imagine itâs most similar to a cadet for what youâre familiar with. When Jedi are young, around 9 years old, they go through the trials and are appointed a Jedi master. Their teacher to show them the ways of the force, of being a Jedi, and perhaps most important, how to grow through life. I guess itâs the closest thing to a parent a Jedi will have,â Obi-Wan explained. âMy padawan and I had a less traditional start. I wonât bore you with the details now, but Anakin and I grew past our rocky beginning together, and I trained him for 10 years. He was just knighted the other day â our graduation ceremony you could say â and now heâs leading a battalion.â
There wasnât a lot for Cody to reference regarding traditional families given his non-traditional life, but as Obi-Wan spoke, still stroking his beard, staring out the window with a look of what Cody could only describe as adoration, it was clear to the commander that Anakin held a significant place in Obi-Wanâs heart. Adoration was replaced by a smirk when the Jediâs focus was back on Cody.
âGranted, I hope that whomever heâs assigned to is ready for some, how shall I say, creative approaches to battle. Anakin means well, but heâs as headstrong as he is confident, and Iâm fairly certain his confidence could fuel the entire Jedi Order.â
âAny chance you remember which battalion heâs assigned to, sir?â Cody asked.
âI believe the 501st is coming to mind.â Obi-Wanâs answer pulled a deep laugh from Cody.
âOh, donât worry, sir. Your padawanâs in good hands. In fact, based on your description, I think that might be a match made by the Maker itself. My brother CT-75, uh, Rex, is just as fond of unusual strategies as it sounds like your padawan is.â
âOh goody, sounds like weâll have some entertainment during this war,â Obi-Wan couldnât hide the amusement in his tone. Cody let the ease that had taken over the interaction calm the remaining tension his body was harboring. A comfortable silence settled over the two while an ambience of scanner beeps filled the space, and Cody took this opportunity to take in the man in front of him.
Obi-Wan Kenobi wasnât clad in sleek armor, walking as if one with the air, holding back the deadly grace of a Nexu. Most likely if you passed by him on the street, you wouldnât spare him a second glance, mistaking him for a hermit or a beggar, but Cody was starting to think that maybe he missed the important bits of Skirataâs stories.
It was easy to understand why a young clone created from a warrior would hold onto legends of a single being taking down a whole rebellion. Of swords made from kyber, or of battles fought entirely with an invisible strength only the Jedi possessed. But he missed the compassion found in sparing lives, even those that didnât deserve saving. He missed the determined will honed through decades, even centuries, of disciplined training. He missed the unconditional love for a galaxy that can be flawed and ugly, always finding the good beneath the seemingly endless layers of scum.
He realized those qualities, together in perfect balance, were the legends of his childhood, and standing before him in a beige tunic, without a single piece of armor in sight, minutes after walking into a GNK droid, was the perfect warrior.
A beep from Obi-Wanâs commlink startled both men out of their thoughts, and a quick tap to his wrist silenced the alarm. The Jedi looked up at Cody expectantly.
âIt appears we must be on our way, Commander. We are to make our way to Christophsis for our first engagement.â
âRight away, sir. I just need to stop by the platform above us to check in on a brother. Theyâre meeting their general shortly.â Cody kept to himself it was Rex waiting, and he couldnât wait to see Rexâs reaction to their generalsâ connection.
âCanât get rid of me so easily, little brother.â
Obi-Wan waved his hand dismissively as he turned to the door. âOf course, Commander. In the meantime, perhaps you could enlighten me to the story of how you received that scar. It looks like quite the event.â Sweat beaded on Codyâs forehead as images of supply-closet brooms and fake duels flashed in his mind.
As if theyâd been practicing the dance for years, Cody and Obi-Wan fell into step, strides matching, side-by-side. It wasnât often that you met legends. Even less often that those legends turned out to be greater than the stories. Taking note of any GNKs in their path, Cody walked with pride next to his general, looking forward to adding to the legends the cadets would be telling on Kamino. This time though, the legends will have a name. And that name is Obi-Wan Kenobi.
Never forget when he sat in front of a congressional hearing about Lewd Music Corrupting the Youth and completely shut that shit down in the most professional manner that no member of that committee expected from a hair metal musician. They thought they'd get easy points off of a dumb metalhead and this man not only knew exactly what the fuck he was talking about, he tore their arguments apart.
Oh my gosh, how did I not know this about Dee Snider before? I had seen the testimony footage before but holy cow that hits differently now then it did when I watched it first. Also, how can you interpreted âWeâre not going to take itâ as supporting tradition values? Even when I first heard it I picked up on the fact that itâs about fighting back against injustice and an overbearing governing force, either parents or the government.
Extremely displeased to announce I just opened my writing doc to find the fic has not yet written itself. Will check back in tomorrow to see if itâs made any progress
discoholicmusic
andulkaphoto
origamiaround
prguitarman
romaincrisis
tangentwithtanner
theartofmadeline
turnnoffyourmind
