Blather/Analysis Central

Currently: While Celine has dragged Miyeong off for a walk in the garden—that’s going surprisingly well, odd comments about her height aside—Minji, Mira, and Zoey have helped Rumi down from her little PTSD moment, and started getting on the same page about all of the events that led up to the hospital fire.

The answer was yes on multiple levels. Celine was aware that Rumi and her opinion on whose the house was differed. On one hand - Rumi herself being the one to say that you took such care of her home that she sees it as yours is something deserving of warmth. On the other - it was Rumi's house and Rumi just giving that authority to Celine (especially with that panic attack earlier) was not comforting. Rumi's home and if she wanted to open it to guests- it was open. And Celine was still left scrambling to figure out how much Rumi had figured out,and hadn't in regards to the current times. Because it could be incredibly scatter shot. On one hand, Rumi had figured out that Ryu Miyeong and Minji Park were a couple before Celine had. Which, it was slightly blatant in hindsight. The last boyfriend - and someone there in the emotionally charged aftermath. After all, you didn't just call anyone for help after finding a dead body. Also after the hospital fire became known the two had been much less careful about hiding it. Priorities - Ryu Miyeong admitting that the two had been staying together for the past two nights and Minji Park just finding comfort in her lover's presence. Considering the other foot however - maybe a certain quiet discussion later on current social standards and expectations. Zoey and Mira could cover a lot... but the area in the Ven Diagram where Mira being raised in a presumably extremely conservative cult and Zoey being raised with an American as well as Korean social lenses apparently was hit and miss. "Not noticing" the slip ups probably would have been the better call in this situation. On a second level - Celine was needing to figure out if she should feel ashamed at the idea that the great Rumi thought the answer could possibly be no. Ryu Miyeong had been entirely correct earlier that she and Park Minji needed information. Putting aside all the reasons to want the two around - Celine had an ethical responsibility at the moment towards the two. If someone was dealing with... poltergeist was the English word, that was violently injuring them and the individuals presented no danger to herself, Celine would argue that she was obligated to at least help them find a hotel room that was surreptitiously in areas where the poltergeist was highly unlikely to be able to follow to continue doing the harm until the matter was resolved. Park Minji had only escaped death by demon activity by luck. And depending on how the demons were operating - they might realize they didn't get all the people who were asking questions. Especially if Park-ssi was consistent with having opinions enough to call off work to help Ryu-ssi.

Who in turn had called the police, and was somehow being cut off. Ideally that was entirely supernatural in nature - because the situation became so much worse for everyone if the demons had infiltrated into the computer network of the Seoul Police to the point of eavesdropping on the dispatch channels. For some strange reason - it might be considered that these two women fall under the category of needing sanctuary. It's not like the two were bringing any trouble that wasn't heading their way anyways. Also on purely tactical grounds... Yes. Park Minji was very simple. They needed someone that could help with injuries/assess if they needed to be taken to a hospital because no one wanted a second hospital being burned by demons. Also she was a witness to the known demon hotspot (six demons roaming a specific building absolutely qualified) - and they absolutely needed to pick her brain for all the information she could give as to whether they were dealing with something grown quickly by Gwi-ma or something that already preexisted. Because how was the cult able to locate which hospital Mira was to kidnap her? A question for Park-ssi and her partner Ryu-ssi. And the journalist... well, they already knew that there was something blocking the police from finding out about Mira's brothers death. (Murder implied illegality - the man had been summoning Gwima - protection of self and others fully applied in Celine's opinion.) Someone who could help them trace the operations of the demons would be immensely beneficial. And - lastly on a personal level Celine wouldn't be upset at the two staying for a little bit. Now that she knew that the two were not threats to Rumi but two very frightened individuals who were grasping at smoke because something had gone very very wrong. It would be wonderful to have people her own age to talk to that knew about events. Celine wasn't entirely sure what had been some of the subtext going on in the conversation with Ryu-ssi but the woman had listened. And Celine wanted to see more of the rock steady personality of Minji. Celine didn't mind being distant from others homes and buildings in the area, people could be exhausting. But those two - they already had the feel of people who wouldn't drain her so quickly. Also because there were three young adults in the building, one of whom was centuries away from all she'd known, one had been raised in a cult, and the last having to sort out Americanisms and other aspects out. Knowing when you were over your head was a virtue.

Currently: Rumi, Mira, and Zoey have had the sanctuary of Celine’s (and now once again Rumi’s) home broken by the arrival of reporter Miyeong and her unwilling partner, Minji. Before Miyeong could start asking questions about the mystery of Rumi, Mira’s abduction, or the death of Mira’s brother, they received news of a fire at Minji’s hospital—the same one the girls had been treated at.

But there is definitely something off.

Rumi swallows nervously, picking up the broom, and Zoey… Zoey thinks about how they met. About how Rumi told them to leave her in Hell. About how casually, even now, she throws out self-deprecation.

She makes a quick pivot.

“Give it to me straight,” she says. Flashes a crooked smile. “Or queer, or whatever kind of unlabeled you’re into. How’d you end up with an order of worshippers all these centuries later?”

Rumi’s anxiety fades in favor of a flush as she mumbles, “I never wanted worshippers.”

“C’mon—“ Zoey gestures to her. “—with all that going on? I’d fall down at your altar any day.”

The cheesiness works wonders. Rumi laughs, loosening. “Fair lady, I am but a homely servant in your presence.”

(Maybe, some small part of Zoey thinks, all those over-earnest compliments have just been exactly this. It’s not like anyone’s ever flirted with her as anything more than a joke.)

The new quiet is… easier.

Rumi rolls back on her heels, and sighs, glancing down the hall. “I only ever wanted to help people. If I was given power, strength, that meant I ought use it to defend the weak, didn’t it? If I had a home, why should I give it up to some mainlander cousin of my father’s who had no sense of our community? And why should I not share it with those whose homes were not safe to them?”

“Last night…” Zoey bites her lip, hoping she hasn’t interrupted the flow. “Last night, you said you’d known more monsters like Mira’s family.”

Rumi nods. “I often met women who gave similar accounts of their husbands, or children of their parents. Widows, as well, who had been taught they were not to support themselves without a husband and were not to remarry. It was only later that Gwi-Ma came to the island.”

“One woman social services,” Zoey says, struck with a terrible kind of feeling that gets deep, deep into her. Oh, she’s down bad.

Rumi’s blush returns with a vengeance. “I was not alone! I could not have done anything without Chaeyoung, or Hana, or Eunjae, or Jin—“

Her lips flatten. She looks away.

Zoey doesn’t know what to say here. She doesn’t know what to do. She’s always so bad at this part, never enough.

She reaches out and takes Rumi’s free hand, the one not holding the broom. “You’re not alone.”

Minji kicking her ankle hard interrupts her.

“But?” Rumi asks, softly. She knows there is one.

Zoey sighs. Swallows. “But we gotta look at what the idiots are saying.”

Rumi nods and takes her hand back, picking up the broom. “I have always had my critics.”

(An understatement. But those who slandered her rarely understood her actual faults, merely disagreed with her regarding the fact that others had a right to safety and respect.)

Zoey gives her a nervous look, clearly searching for any idea for them to avoid this, before giving in and taking up Mira’s phone once more.

It takes her a few minutes and some mumbling about ‘anglocentric biases’, but finally, her frustration gives way to a wince, sucking in a sharp breath through her teeth, and Rumi knows she has found it.

“Tell me,” she says.

///

“Would you prefer I tell you about myself?” Miyeong asks, utterly miserable but happy to throw herself under the bus as long as it keeps Minji from shutting down again.

(Are they friends? Miyeong’s embarrassing herself in front of pretty gorgeous tall women for her, she thinks they might be friends.)

Celine, to her surprise, doesn’t say no. She doesn’t say yes, either, but she doesn’t say no.

“Well, I like piña coladas, and getting caught in the rain, and… terrible American music from before I was born,” she said, realizing that joke was not landing at all. Why the fuck would it land? “Or K-pop from the nineties. Or anything, really. Made a brief go at being an idol trainee before my parents decided it would never go anywhere and that I should get a more respectable career.”

That lands, thankfully, as it always does, even if Celine is laughing at her instead of with her.

And really only smirking behind her tea.

They’ll work on it.

(They’ll work on it? Professionalism, Miyeong!)

“Early morning drives,” her mouth adds, without permission.

Miyeong turned to give Minji a betrayed look. "Min," she whined. Minji paused for half a heartbeat as she took in the nickname. Took it in, looked at it and shelved as a buffer between the silence of unanswered calls, frozen pictures of flame licking windows and the news broadcast she'd looked at on her phone detailing that many were still unaccounted for - when a firefighter had emerged in the background carrying someone too limp and charred. She'd closed the screen for fear she'd recognize the victim. A buffer between the horrors of the day and her heart. Miyeong gave a put upon sigh, yanking Minji's head up out of her thoughts. The look that Celine was giving Minji was enough to conclude that she'd zoned out in an obvious way. "You only had to identify me at the ER once." Miyeong grumbled. Minji gave the reporter, her accomplice and partner in whatever madness was unfolding, a withering look. "Only because the other two times you lost your identification and were being transported by ambulance you woke up enroute."

She knows historical accounts can be biased or downright wrong, but this...this is on another fucking level.

Rumi is still standing there, wielding the broom like its- what was the word, not bo staff but oh! that's it!- a jang bong, waiting patiently. Her face is calm, but Zoey's faced down enough painful rumors and gossip in her life to recognize the trepidation in Rumi's eyes.

It never does get easier...

But ignoring...this won't make it go away, so she jumps back to the top and gives the Cliff Notes version.

"Okay, so this guy- he apparently did a whole research project on you, looking up historical documents, studying records, talking to folklorists, the whole nine yards. And he says..." She bit her lip, steeling herself. "...That you were a demon."

"I am," Rumi says calmly. Too calmly. She touches the binding on her cheek, the movement heavy. "It is what these mean."

Part of Zoey wants to grab her hand, pull it away, and kiss the damn binding like in the record shop. But she wants Rumi to keep liking her so she clenches the phone and focuses. "No, like...this."

She turns the phone to Rumi, showing her a scanned image of a painting the researcher included: it's Rumi or, well, something meant to be Rumi. It's similar in art style to the scroll Celine showed her and Mira, but the image it contains is the polar opposite. That one showed Rumi as a proud and noble warrior; this one has given her clawed hands, tusks curling from her mouth, scimitar-like horns protruding from her forehead, long purple hair swirling around her like furious smoke, and a face twisted into an expression of furious hate.

A monster.

Rumi jerks back, chest rising and falling faster than it was a moment ago. "That...they think that is me?"

"Well, plus side if that's what those reporters saw, I doubt they'll recognize you." Zoey shrugs. "So...bright side?"

Rumi bites her lip, then looks steadily at Zoey. "Is that all?"

She wishes it was.

When they finish, Rumi's knuckles are white around the broom and Zoey has officially decided she's never believing a history book again.

"My father was a good man," Rumi says, voice a whisper. "We loved each other very much. I would never have harmed him."

"You don't need to convince me," Zoey says. She honestly can't imagine Rumi harming anyone- well, excepting members of evil cults, but those don't count. Being evil cult members.

"And I did not drive women from their homes. Or turn them mad." Rumi stands tall, looking every inch the ancient hero (which is honestly really hot- focus Zoey!). "I gave them a place to go when the world cast them aside.

"Does this scholar write of the woman in my village whose husband threw her out for talking too much?" She gestures contemptuously at the phone. "Or the one whose husband discarded her when her strength failed to return after bearing twin sons? Or any of the other women who needed help and had no one to turn to? If there was a wrong committed it was not on my conscience."

It's honestly the most fired up Zoey's seen Rumi when she's not pummeling evil cult members to dust. It is very hot, as is the fact that she was . But she can't focus on that right now. Or the fact that she is so lucky she didn't live in the 16th century because if having a motor mouth was a divorceable offence she would have been horrible wife material.

God, this is all so fucked up.

As if on cue, Rumi returns with the broom and dustpan, her face a quiet stormcloud. Zoey follows, lugging the vacuum.

A story meant to scare children—wasn’t that what Celine had said earlier?

“You’re back,” the reporter observes.

“Yes,” Rumi says shortly, heading for the center of the mess. “I… I was not raised with the story you referred to, and neither was Zoey. I doubt there is any relation.”

Was not raised. Sure. Story couldn’t exist if she was living it. Clever. (Mira still hates being out of the loop here.)

The reporter nods, fingers casually carding through the nurse’s hair. “What about you, Celine? You seemed familiar.”

“…I am,” Celine allows warily, barely hiding a grimace at not being able to say no.

Rumi starts brushing together the bigger shards of the bowl. Mira gets up, not so much thinking she could help as that she might be able to sneak some answers in a whisper.

“Wanna tell me some? Everything I’ve read came off some dumb website that might have been AI-generated slop for all I know, talking about demons and mind control and all that.” The reporter smiles.

Whatever Celine is about to say is interrupted by the loud clatter of shards into the trash.

Rumi straightens, now that all the attention is on her. “Why do you wish to speak of Rumi of Jeju?”

Zoey nudges Mira’s hip. Mira takes her phone, glancing quickly down at the glowing screen. An old ink painting of a purple-haired demon stares back at her.

It’s enough. She sticks her phone in her pocket.

“I’m writing a story,” the reporter says, eyeing her consideringly. “People tend not to like it when newspapers publish stories that aren’t true.”

“Is that your goal then?” Rumi asks, and her golden eyes almost seem to glow as she looks at the reporter. “Truth?”

The reporter blows out her lips and starts toying with the corner of a napkin. "It's...complicated."

Rumi fights the urge to growl. Complicated. A coward's word for things they did not think their listeners' deserved to have explained. A word that says 'we know what is best for you' whether or not it truly is.

She does not like that word. She likes people who hide behind it even less.

She shifts her hands on the broom handle, sliding them into a position that will, at a single motion, turn it into a weapon. "'Complicated' things can be explained. One simply has to take the time."

The reporter squints her eyes, tilts her head like a dog that does not know what to make of a whistle; off to the side, Mira smirks in an approving way and Zoey, crouched on the balls of her feet, gives her a little thumbs-up.

The sight flows through Rumi like a hot drink on a frigid day, warm and bolstering. And it is greedy of her, but she grabs onto that feeling and tucks it in a corner of her chest to sip from and savor later, again and again.

(she really is a demonic creature).

The reporter nods, slowly, not taking her eyes from Rumi. "Okay. Fair. I mean," she shrugged, smiling crookedly. "We did barge into your house and disturb breakfast. Which is apparently not customary on Jeju."

Celine-nim's lips twitch, like she's holding back a laugh; the reporter notices and...huh. Her face looks like how Rumi's chest feels when it's full of Mira's smile and Zoey's laugh. Strange.

The reporter starts talking before she can think on it too long.

"Most of the time, when people make a discovery, they share it with the world. Like vaccines or photography or the wreck of the Titanic."

Rumi does not know what any of those are, but she knows enough to file them away to ask about later, when there are not intruders in the kitchen.

"Telling people about those things makes the world a better place. Usually. But sometimes...sometimes a discovery is better kept...quiet."

Quiet. Like the kitchen has become.

The reporter looks around at her audience, glances at the nurse, who gives a little nod and the reporter continues. "In my experience, no matter how fantastic the legend, it always starts from a grain of truth. Rumi of Jeju's story is one about demons. And-"

Celine holds up a hand, face like ice; the earlier hint of a smile is gone. "Is that what you are here for? Chasing after demons?"

The reporter's face does the strange thing again. "More like...investigating. Kind of like on The X-Files. Only without the slow-burn romance thing." She blinks, seeming to only just realize what she said. "Not that there's anything wrong with romance!" She hurriedly corrects, cheeks turning red. "I am all for romance and am totally available..." Another blink, and Rumi can practically see her sink down in her chair. "...Which is not a relevant detail."

By this point her face is putting the tomatoes to shame; Mira and Zoey are nudging each other and sharing looks that are of a similar bent to the one the nurse is shooting at her friend. Celine-nim looks confused.

It is...very strange.

"Anyway." The reporter clears her throat and recovers herself. "My associate and I are investigating some...unusual turns of events. In the past week a university student got kidnapped-"

Zoey wobbles where she's crouched on the floor.

"-and some members of a prominent family went missing."

Mira flinches.

"And we've been seeing signs that appear to point to...well." She shrugged. "We're here consulting a shaman in a hanok that supposedly belonged to a legendary demonic figure. That should say enough."

It does. Too much.

"And if we told people about this it would make...well, pardon my French but the world would lose its shit."

Because that's how it always was with her, wasn't it? Destruction. Chaos-

Celine isn’t sure whether she would have to buy a new broom, a new vacuum, or both, but she’s certainly glad that Zoey regains her balance and turns the vacuum off quickly enough that she doesn’t have to find out.

“Sorry!” Zoey squeaks. “I know I promised to warn you, I just kinda tripped and then I hit the power button and you know how it goes.”

“Miyeong?” Park Minji mumbles, not opening her eyes or moving from where she’d fallen asleep. “Please tell me that we aren’t about to get murdered.”

Rumi-nim flinches. Celine bites back a surge of protectiveness—Rumi-nim is not a child, and would certainly not appreciate intemperate action on her behalf.

“That was a vacuum,” Ryu Miyeong replies, deadpan.

“That’s good,” says Park Minji, still not moving. “I was kinda worried about getting my face bashed in.”

Mira makes a soft, choked sound.

The rest of them go very still. Celine only saw the aftermath, didn’t go through it like Mira, Rumi-nim, and Zoey, but she doubts she’ll ever forget the sight of that man’s corpse.

She knows this has to be worse for them.

“I think it’s time for you to leave,” she says, calmly, firmly.

And, to her surprise, before Ryu Miyeong can even protest, it’s Rumi-nim who says, “No.”

All eyes on her, she looks at Mira, hesitating, her harsh tone softening. “Ryu Miyeong said she wanted the truth. She should not leave before getting it.”

And Mira nods, shrugging with feigned nonchalance. “Gotta wonder what her friend came looking for.”

Miyeong and Minji both look… confused. Maybe even concerned. Something about the way they’re interacting goes against their preconceptions—then again, if they were expecting a demon, everything about Rumi-nim would be fairly surprising.

"Congratulations for getting Park to admit to why she has her exacting standards." Miyeong told the group. "She likes to pretend its merely her being professional." Possibly a bit too glib, but it gave Miyeong a few more precious seconds to organize facts. Minji was the healthcare expert - Miyeong could play people like fiddles. She just preferred honey. Minji - refreshed at least for a little while after her impromptu nap glared at her. Which unfortunately meant that Miyeong needed to tuck away her... appreciation of attractive mundangs. And unpack the courage of the possibly already dead.

"If we're no longer hiding the fact that yes we are aware that Kang Mira's brother is dead -" And there was the spreading alarm Miyeong expected, Minji's hand crushing bone white into Miyeong's shoulder in a silent plea for Miyeong to stop talking,"- but at this point I'm rather more concerned about the fact that I have a recording of myself calling the police to report a dead body and they kept hanging up on me." Silence - Rumi, Miyeong was fairly sure, was watching her friends reactions instead of grasping what that meant. In that quiet, the meaning of that statement registering Miyeong slid her phone onto the table - the recording of her calling the police playing. At this point, Miyeong was glad that Rumi had killed the other Kang. If she had merely severely injured him, he would have gone to the hospital. Probably Minji's given how their luck was going and how the stench from a harbor of rotting fish dragged back to there.

He would have gone to the hospital. And Minji would have stayed. And this morning , an hour and fifteen minutes past- Miyeong's arch-nemesis of years would be dead. Minji Park - one of the most frustrating women alive. But who had listened years ago when Miyeong had called in a panic because Yeonngi had not been answering her and she'd been mistaken for a gilted girlfriend trying to stir trouble when she contacted the police. Minji had asked his coworkers if anyone had heard - and they finally gotten him listed as missing. And when his corpse had been located - Minji had lead her to a small out of the way room to compose herself after identifying him. And stayed with her as her stomach settled, with some overpowering smelling ointment to rub underneath her nostrils to chase away the scent of decay and rot. Minji had come in off shift to "escort her" to prevent her from disappearing anywhere. Yes - that had been why Minji had been keeping her company. Just like how Miyeong would be making sure her remaining source about what was happening - happend , past tense now - at the hospital didn't lose her number. That would be why Miyeong was sticking like glue to Minji. Miyeong waited for the recording to finish - her voice from two days ago rising in frustration and fear as the police operator closed the line after Miyeong identified where the body was located. Miyeong stabbed her fingers down towards the table. "I've been on the look out for flying pigs since two days ago when Minji called me to ask why the hell I wasn't bothering her. And Minji does not like me enough to ask me to bother her, especially not at her work. Historically most of our interactions are her chasing me out of the hospital." A sprinkle of humor, a bit of humanity. Miyeong doled out the social bait - analytical behind her performance. She hated that she was good at playing on people. Her eyes skipped to Zoey - and there was the socially odd one. With the exact same super power of Minji when she was tired of pretending - poor to no innate hold to social guide rails meant capable of coming off at inopportune to her moments. Fortunately, Miyeong had been duking it out with Minji for years. She caught Zoey's attention with a movement of her hand - letting her own eyes focus a bit over Zoey's head. "When Mira disappeared - someone put it in as a transfer. Despite a ransacked room and that the tail end of the abduction had been seen. The active shift at the time and the next shift were actively losing their shit over the fact the police weren't called and that the administration wasn't letting them access to the computer logs to identify who had entered it as a transfer by the time arrived. The only person that we know that was calling attention to the events who is still alive is Minji." Miyeong felt Minji's grip on her tighten again. Yes she would need to be on the look out for survivor's guilt. And in Celine's gaze Miyeong saw comprehension, and Miyeong inclined her head slightly in confirmation. Do we need to be worried about someone trying to finish the job? "Frankly we were following Rumi because things have been strange for two days and reality went out the window when there were two-" "Six," Minji corrected - finally breaking into Miyeong's spiel. Miyeong kept her face composed. She was almost done and it looked like her audience was willing to let her finish. But this was why she'd been keeping an eye on Zoey - when momentum broke... "There were six fake nurses, not just two. I noticed four more before I clocked out." Minji stated - voice tight. "Fake nurses?" Zoey joined - and there went Miyeong's momentum. Oh well. "How did you know?" Miyeong restrained a bitter laugh - instinct understanding that it would not have been taken well.

"Because one was a dead ringer for a photographer I know - ignoring that he was dressed in a nurse's uniform when Jeremy is terrified of blood. It is not a good sign that everyone I've called in the last two days hasn't seen Jeremy in two weeks. And I rather doubt that he's going to call me to tell me about his identical twin. Lastly, on a personal note - I would like to know why there's was a doppelganger of my last boyfriend at the hospital two days ago. Given he's been dead for several years." Miyeong let that hang in the air. Yes Yeonngi may never have been the greatest of men, but he didn't deserve to let something wear his face. Especially not wear his face and be party to - whatever had happened at the hospital.

Celine finally spoke. "Are you sure that he didn't merely, run off and came back?" The woman must be an excellent mundang - her vocal control had her come across as non judgemental despite the inherent tone of the question itself. "Very." Miyeong confirmed - voice flat, tired. "I was the one they asked to identify the body. No one said that they were twisting the rules a bit for the girlfriend to do it instead of his parents - but he worked at the hospital," Miyeong nodded to Minji, "and they knew me. And what I get up to, so they thought that I'd be less traumatized. Know the English short story - The Monkey Paw? The man's son might have been less mangled."

"I'm looking at two people I know having their memories used - possibly in mass murder by arson. I might have personally gotten on whoever's kill list due to my multiple calls to the police. Minji may not be safe depending on if they actually kept track of who was having issues with no reporting Kang Mira being abducted. And I am now concerned how many of the survivors are going to just be more doppelgangers."

Currently: Rumi, Mira, and Zoey have had the sanctuary of Celine’s (and now once again Rumi’s) home broken by the arrival of reporter Miyeong and her unwilling partner, Minji. Before Miyeong could start asking questions about the mystery of Rumi, Mira’s abduction, or the death of Mira’s brother, they received news of a fire at Minji’s hospital—the same one the girls had been treated at.

But there is definitely something off.

Rumi swallows nervously, picking up the broom, and Zoey… Zoey thinks about how they met. About how Rumi told them to leave her in Hell. About how casually, even now, she throws out self-deprecation.

She makes a quick pivot.

“Give it to me straight,” she says. Flashes a crooked smile. “Or queer, or whatever kind of unlabeled you’re into. How’d you end up with an order of worshippers all these centuries later?”

Rumi’s anxiety fades in favor of a flush as she mumbles, “I never wanted worshippers.”

“C’mon—“ Zoey gestures to her. “—with all that going on? I’d fall down at your altar any day.”

The cheesiness works wonders. Rumi laughs, loosening. “Fair lady, I am but a homely servant in your presence.”

(Maybe, some small part of Zoey thinks, all those over-earnest compliments have just been exactly this. It’s not like anyone’s ever flirted with her as anything more than a joke.)

The new quiet is… easier.

Rumi rolls back on her heels, and sighs, glancing down the hall. “I only ever wanted to help people. If I was given power, strength, that meant I ought use it to defend the weak, didn’t it? If I had a home, why should I give it up to some mainlander cousin of my father’s who had no sense of our community? And why should I not share it with those whose homes were not safe to them?”

“Last night…” Zoey bites her lip, hoping she hasn’t interrupted the flow. “Last night, you said you’d known more monsters like Mira’s family.”

Rumi nods. “I often met women who gave similar accounts of their husbands, or children of their parents. Widows, as well, who had been taught they were not to support themselves without a husband and were not to remarry. It was only later that Gwi-Ma came to the island.”

“One woman social services,” Zoey says, struck with a terrible kind of feeling that gets deep, deep into her. Oh, she’s down bad.

Rumi’s blush returns with a vengeance. “I was not alone! I could not have done anything without Chaeyoung, or Hana, or Eunjae, or Jin—“

Her lips flatten. She looks away.

Zoey doesn’t know what to say here. She doesn’t know what to do. She’s always so bad at this part, never enough.

She reaches out and takes Rumi’s free hand, the one not holding the broom. “You’re not alone.”

Minji kicking her ankle hard interrupts her.

“But?” Rumi asks, softly. She knows there is one.

Zoey sighs. Swallows. “But we gotta look at what the idiots are saying.”

Rumi nods and takes her hand back, picking up the broom. “I have always had my critics.”

(An understatement. But those who slandered her rarely understood her actual faults, merely disagreed with her regarding the fact that others had a right to safety and respect.)

Zoey gives her a nervous look, clearly searching for any idea for them to avoid this, before giving in and taking up Mira’s phone once more.

It takes her a few minutes and some mumbling about ‘anglocentric biases’, but finally, her frustration gives way to a wince, sucking in a sharp breath through her teeth, and Rumi knows she has found it.

“Tell me,” she says.

///

“Would you prefer I tell you about myself?” Miyeong asks, utterly miserable but happy to throw herself under the bus as long as it keeps Minji from shutting down again.

(Are they friends? Miyeong’s embarrassing herself in front of pretty gorgeous tall women for her, she thinks they might be friends.)

Celine, to her surprise, doesn’t say no. She doesn’t say yes, either, but she doesn’t say no.

“Well, I like piña coladas, and getting caught in the rain, and… terrible American music from before I was born,” she said, realizing that joke was not landing at all. Why the fuck would it land? “Or K-pop from the nineties. Or anything, really. Made a brief go at being an idol trainee before my parents decided it would never go anywhere and that I should get a more respectable career.”

That lands, thankfully, as it always does, even if Celine is laughing at her instead of with her.

And really only smirking behind her tea.

They’ll work on it.

(They’ll work on it? Professionalism, Miyeong!)

“Early morning drives,” her mouth adds, without permission.

Miyeong turned to give Minji a betrayed look. "Min," she whined. Minji paused for half a heartbeat as she took in the nickname. Took it in, looked at it and shelved as a buffer between the silence of unanswered calls, frozen pictures of flame licking windows and the news broadcast she'd looked at on her phone detailing that many were still unaccounted for - when a firefighter had emerged in the background carrying someone too limp and charred. She'd closed the screen for fear she'd recognize the victim. A buffer between the horrors of the day and her heart. Miyeong gave a put upon sigh, yanking Minji's head up out of her thoughts. The look that Celine was giving Minji was enough to conclude that she'd zoned out in an obvious way. "You only had to identify me at the ER once." Miyeong grumbled. Minji gave the reporter, her accomplice and partner in whatever madness was unfolding, a withering look. "Only because the other two times you lost your identification and were being transported by ambulance you woke up enroute."

Currently: Huntrix have escaped the horrors to explore a market with Celine. Meanwhile, reporter!Miyeong and her unwilling partner Third are tracking the world’s worst missing persons case

Zoey laughs at her. “Sure can! That’s what they’re for!”

Mira can see the breath moving in Rumi’s chest. She looks so… affected. She turns her intense gaze to Zoey. “How?” she asks. “When? Here? Now?”

Zoey stops laughing. She just nods. 

Mira can’t take it anymore; she takes Rumi’s hand. “Come on,” she tells her. “Here and now.” She grabs the record Rumi had been fingering and pulls her to the front of the shop.

Rumi’s hand is trembling in hers, just slightly. It’s the very same hand that had turned her brother from a man to a thing, but—she gets it. 

It’s music.

“Can we hear a sample?” Mira asks the clerk, holding out the record. It’s a foreign ska band, of all things. That’s cool. They can try a bit of everything.

The bright and peppy sounds of trumpet fill the small shop. Mira can see the moment Rumi’s eyes light up. She turns to look at Mira, eyebrows raised with surprised delight. She squeezes Mira’s hand to the rhythm, just slightly. Her feet start tapping, seemingly unconsciously.

Mira leads her in a simple maneuver, and Rumi follows easily. The shop is narrow, and full of racks. Mira coaches Rumi through a simple dance, mindful of their surroundings, knees bent, and back and forth.

When the song is done, Rumi is no longer trembling. She is grinning ear to ear, though.

“It is groovy,” she says with complete solemnity.

Mira keeps having to fight for her fucking life with these girls. Where the fuck did she learn that word? The moment Mira’s jaw is free she is just going to laugh and never fucking stop. 

Zoey is doing plenty of laughing for her, though. “Me next!” she announces, and tears through the store to grab the next candidate.

She immediately rushes back over to Rumi and Mira and grabs both their hands as the electric guitars start. Within 30 seconds all three of them are jumping and singing badly along to classic punk rock. 

Rumi looks exhilarated. She’s trying her hardest to match their garbled singing, a beat too late and significantly more incomprehensible, the foreign English words a mere suggestion.

As the notes fade she looks directly at Zoey, then at Mira, and says smugly, “You were better.”

Mira has to look away. But Zoey, probably still buoyed by the energy of the music, laughs delightedly, and surges up, and presses a kiss to Rumi’s cheek.

All three of them freeze in tandem.

Zoey stammers, “Sorry, I—”

Next to her, Zoey is as red as the tomatoes they'd purchased that morning; despite the confusion of colors mottling Mira's face she spots a similar hue simmering beneath the purples and greenish-browns.

Something tells Rumi it is not from the exertion of jumping.

She clenches the hem of her modern shirt, twisting the fabric in her hands in spite of a dim concern that it might tear (it was the most acceptable offering in the store they went to, but considering how the standards for tailoring had apparently dimished with the centuries that was not saying much).

It is horrible and disgusting of her, to react in such a way to Zoey's- Zoey's kiss. She had been trying so hard, ever since she slipped and reacted so poorly to Zoey's fingers brushing against her skin the night before, to keep those...urges down, wrested into submission like the most vicious of foes.

Because that's what they were, a foe. One as foul and vile as Gwi-Ma that must be stopped before it could destroy all that was good and pure in the world.

And there was nothing better or purer than them, how they had welcomed Rumi despite knowing what she is, and now- now they were mortified. Ashamed to be in her presence. Perhaps rightfully disgusted.

Now she was going to ruin what she had with them because she couldn't contain her demonic urges when Zoey kissed-

Wait. She blinks. Zoey had kissed her. Zoey had made that damning move. Why-

Celine is back, handing the person behind the counter a record with an eye-crinkling smile, and more music is playing chasing the thought aside.

She gasps, grabbing Mira and Zoey's hands on instinct.

This music...it prances from the music-playing machine like a new spring colt, bright and ecstatic and so full of pep she doesn't know how anyone can resist bouncing along.

And unlike the other records that they played, she can understand the words- or, well, most of the words- singing from this one.

Mira smirks over at Celine from where she's bouncing at Rumi's side. "Let me guess. 'This is what we listened to back in my day when music was good.'"

Celine just rolls her eyes as she nods along with what is clearly a familiar melody to her, the smile staying in place. "There is plenty of modern music I enjoy, Mira."

"But you chose this."

"...Yes, I chose this."

"It's a good pick!" Zoey beams. "Ooh! We should play Rumi some modern kpop next!"

Mira lets go of Rumi's hand and runs through a quick step sequence, adapted to the confines of the space but still impressively intricate. Zoey's quick to follow along, and after a moment Rumi gives it a try.

It's strange, moving her body in this way; nothing like the dances she's used to. But it feels...good. Right. The steps, the beat...

Mira and Zoey’s both include ones that Rumi-nim had hesitated over, of course, presented as nonchalantly as they were capable of.

Celine… very casually pulls a handful of CDs out from the rack next to the cashier, not at all having spent time trying to find something that they might enjoy.

(Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring for Mira, who had a ballerina’s arms when she turned. Nineties bubblegum pop for Zoey, since she mentioned liking Fin.K.L. Some metal band and an old folk singer and some American jazz and—

Whatever she hoped Rumi-nim might like.)

They’re half-asleep by the time she parks outside the supermarket, following her in together.

Rumi-nim’s eyes are wide as she takes everything in, utterly astounded. Zoey starts gently tugging her along by the hand to make sure she keeps up. Eventually, as Celine picks up a package of beef, she asks, “…Where does it come from?”

Mira sighs, and grimaces, bracing her jaw. “Depends. Stuff like this, it’s usually not too far in between the farm and the shelf. Part of what you pay for is someone else doing the butchering, but part of what they pay for is someone else doing the raising, and so on.”

Despite their earlier sleepiness, they have a fairly coherent discussion of supply chains and labor relations and fair pay as Celine moves them through the store.

“Oh, wait!” Zoey yelps, bringing them to a halt. She looks rather embarrassed when Celine turns, as if she hadn’t expected that to work. “I, uh—can we get some Bacchus-F? It’s kinda the only thing that lets me kick on study mode.”

Celine… is not surprised to be asked for an energy drink. She is, however, pleased that Zoey is willing to ask her for things. “Of course.”

She’s even more pleased when, as they pause to buy soap (the rest of the bath products were already picked up at the pharmacy, but bar soap is far cheaper here), Mira disappears for a minute only to return with a thing of concealer, dropping it in the cart like she expects to be told to put it back.

It takes Celine a moment to realize that her face looks like someone to a baseball bat to it and connect the dots, wishing she’d considered that earlier.

And, yes, that is a moment spent looking directly at Mira.

Sure, the place is pretty and, yeah, it looks like a good place to take a vacation. However, after spending two hours of her life getting laughed at by locals she was not inclined to think favorably of the island.

So Miyeong compromises.

Rumi of Jeju was, legendarily speaking, the daughter of a yangban man seduced by a demon—some stories called her a gumiho, though most didn’t bother to specify, and a few even claimed her mother to have been a ghost.

Her father raised her indulgently, which she repaid by killing him and stealing his land when she reached adulthood. As if that weren’t enough, she began a crusade across the whole island of Jeju, killing men and driving women mad.

Ultimately, her father’s younger brothers came together to end her, some versions saying by killing her, others by imprisonment, and a few—to Miyeong’s special disgust—by tricking her into marrying a promising young magistrate.

Miyeong doesn’t find any great sources on where it all was supposed to have happened, but in spite of her more… esoteric… theories, she’s no folklorist.

Now, finding who owns what land? That’s a matter of public record. And she knows the shaman traveling in the car and that a shaman is apparently living on Rumi’s land. That’s a job for a journalist.

So, curled up in the motel room bed and picking away at the takeout Minji provided, Miyeong gets to work.

///

The hanok looks strange, approaching it from outside. It does not look like Rumi’s home.

As they grow closer, though, she can see that despite the ways it has changed—the gravel path, the new buildings, the glass windows—there are things that have remained. The structure of the purlins is that her father chose, the colors of the paint are the same ones young Dasom had chosen by splattering them against the wall.

(The toddler is now long-dead. But Rumi is coming to terms with such things.)

(If she tells herself often enough, then it will be so.)

(What did Jinu say, when he came home without her?

He always liked to sing for the children, to sneak flowers out from behind their ears even as his own sister, too old to be charmed by such things, rolled her eyes.

“We didn’t know the meaning,” Celine says, gesturing at the splash. “But it seemed intentional. We’ve maintained it as it is.”

Rumi looks at her, and that powerful feeling visibly washes through her, just for a moment. “Thank you,” she says, with great sincerity. “And thank you, as well, for caring for my home. That is—your home, now, of course.” She bows her head.

Celine balks. “Mine? No, Rumi-nim, it’s always been yours. I have been merely its keeper.”

“I think… a house should belong to its inhabitants,” Rumi says, sounding somewhat vague, far away. “Nothing else would be right.”

Celine mulls on that. It does seem quite aligned with Rumi-nim’s teachings. “In that case, I invite you to inhabit it again,” Celine tells her.

Rumi looks at her, finally seeming grounded in the conversation. “Then I shall extend you the same invitation.”

Celine smiles.

She really is a sweetheart.

Celine gestures to the entrance. “Together, then?”

Rumi nods, and smiles back.

Zoey grabs Rumi’s hand as she passes by, stretching out Rumi’s arm between them before letting go. “You two are sooo slow, and not even helping us carry the groceries?? Is chivalry truly dead???”

“And what am I, a slug?” grumbles Mira, arms full of paper bags.

Zoey laughs. “The most beautiful elegant graceful chivalrous slug!” she agrees. “With impeccable taste in music!”

“Hmph,” says Mira, noticeably blushing.

Celine looks at Rumi as Rumi watches the two of them. There’s something complicated in her face. But it’s no longer blank. “I should relieve Mira of her burdens,” Rumi says. “Her injuries…”

Which is great, because it means Zoey can show Rumi the stars.

At least a few more of them, anyway.

“We’ll do your hair outside,” she says.

Mira gives her a look. One that says, Zoey, what the fuck, why would you want to put all this hair in the same place as dirt?

But Zoey looks back at her like Trust me, and Rumi didn’t even get hers wet during today’s shower (possibly due to an awkward talk with Celine, but hey, they’ve all had to learn how to deal with a shared shower, Zoey just got it done younger), so it’s totally going to be manageable.

And Mira does.

The fluttery feeling Zoey gets about it is definitely meaningless.

The sky is all reds and oranges, picturesque.

“We should be abed soon,” Rumi says, softly, a little awkwardly, for lack of anything better to say-ly.

“It’s not that late,” Mira says, amused. “C’mon, sit down.”

“But we won’t be able to see,” Rumi protests, gesturing to the sunset.

Only a moment later, the porch light flicks on, bathing them all in yellow light, and Celine steps outside to see Rumi’s stare, equal parts surprised and embarrassed.

“I brought barley tea?” she says, raising the mugs in her hands as if that weren’t obvious.

Zoey scrambles up to help her, and by the time she and Celine are settled, Rumi has started brushing Mira’s hair with surprising confidence, for a useless rich girl.

“I can braid it,” she says softly, “if you like. I, um, I assume you are not married?” A pause. “Were not married.”

Mira sits, still, stiff. “No.”

Zoey resists the urge to squirm, to offer useless facts about average marriage ages, to crack some joke about the ridiculous hair sculptures of the later-than-Rumi Joseon.

“I am sorry,” Rumi says, head bowing as much as it can without meeting Mira’s head.

At least Celine also looks like she’d rather not be here.

Rumi's hands falter in their steady brushing rhythm, and the air feels fraught, like the uneasy silence that follows a hand slapping across an impertinent cheek.

(a silence Mira knows well; she's heard it enough)

Take it back, the echo of her mother's voice hisses in the hollow left by the crickets. That talk's not for outside the home!

Mira clenches her fists since her jaw's out of the question. No way.

Rumi clears her throat. "Still," she says. "They were your family, and-"

"Shit!" Mira turned around. Rumi blinked in surprise, brush still raised to meet hair that isn't there anymore. "I know! But that doesn't- it doesn't mean anything!"

And she doesn't know what comes over her then- maybe that small earlier act of defying Eomma's command to keep dirty laundry behind locked doors, maybe her sense of pride had finally eroded, maybe this was some kind of trauma response, maybe she doesn't know! (Zoey probably does though; girl's basically Wikipedia)- but she's talking. Talking about- everything.

About the evenings she spent shoved into dresses that itched and pinched, letting her parents' friends pinch her cheeks and say how charming she was for the sake of a business deal.

About the days she spent in that cavern of a study sniffing back tears because math didn't make sense and she didn't dare say so.

About the time she threw up on the living room couch by accident and got a scolding worse than the stomach bug plaguing her.

About the feel of Appa's belt biting against her skin for bad grades and bad attitudes and just being bad.

About the way her heart twisted and snarled and screamed whenever someone saw them at a gala or a function and commented on what a lovely 'family' they were.

About how it felt like- still feels like a mockery of the word. 'Family.'

Even as the ache of being free of them sat snarled and thorny in her, something she doesn't know what to do with.

The quiet is even thicker and heavier when she finishes. Mira's chest feels raw, like those ragged and jagged-edged parts of her existence had been physically torn and slopped on the deck.

“So see?” she spits out, the words acid. “Even before they straight-up kidnapped Zoey, they were shit.”

Suddenly Zoey’s flush with her side (when did she move closer?) The warmth radiating from her thigh where it brushes Mira’s is something she wants to lean into and wrap herself in.

"You're okay with hugs, right? Because you sound like you're way deficient in them."

Not usually, but she figures if anyone deserves an exception…

The second she nods Zoey slams into her, Rumi following her lead with less energy but no less earnestness.

Mira shrugs slightly, uncomfortably taking back ownership of her space, and Rumi does not deny her.

“I was always difficult,” she mutters, as if that is any justification.

“Bullshit.”

All three of them turn to the honored shaman, perhaps the most unexpected corner from which such a declaration might come. But still, she sits upright, lips pursed with displeasure, knuckles white on her mug.

She lowers her gaze on Mira. “You are no such thing.”

“She speaks the truth,” Rumi agrees, as Zoey squeezes Mira in emphasis. “I have slain many monsters akin to those you described, far more than I ever have those who dealt with demons. Even one like myself can learn that they take great pleasure in offering false justifications for their own cruelty.”

Mira takes a shuddery, gasping breath, bracing her jaw, and then she and Zoey seem to melt into one another, Mira burying her face in Zoey’s hair as she leans on her for support.

Rumi resists the urge to fiddle awkwardly with the hairbrush.

Just as she is about to apologize for her presumption, Mira says, still muffled by Zoey’s hair and distinctly choked nonetheless, “Thanks. I, um, I think I needed to hear that. Or something.”

“And we will say it as many times as you need,” the honored shaman agrees smoothly. Rumi fumbles a nod.

“Weren’t you gonna braid my hair?” Mira asks, and another pause, reaching back towards Rumi, and she melts to be given a place with them.

“As often as you would like,” she promises, coming forward.

“Whatever,” Mira says as she finally straightens off of Zoey. (Rumi suspects that it is not ‘whatever’ to her, from the tone of her voice and the redness of her face.) “And don’t think you’re getting away with that ‘even one like myself’ shit either.”

She wishes that could be her. Either brusher or brush-ee.

There is no reason to impose on Mira and Zoey again, but the bedroom is too large and too empty without them, dark and cavernous. And too small, then, the sheets tangling around her legs like a binding.

She tries the floor, but it is even worse, wood becoming stone under her fingers as she fights to anchor herself in reality.

It’s easier, for a moment, when the sun starts to leak through the window, but it’s an all too brief moment before the brightness is too much for her to remain abed.

The house is silent, though, empty of all the people who should be running about and starting their days, drawing water and stoking fires.

She considers starting breakfast, but the kitchen… is not a kitchen. Wherever they’ve hidden the fire, she certainly can’t tell.

But one does not need to draw water for the day ahead with indoor plumbing, so why would one need to wake?

It takes a long time before the honored shaman wakes.

She looks almost startled to find Rumi in her living room, waiting. But after their good mornings, she invites Rumi to help her make breakfast with grace.

It gets easier. A knife is still a knife. Kimchi is still kimchi. A rice cooker is slightly maddening, but a stove burner makes sense enough.

Zoey and Mira arrive together, and something in Rumi aches at the sight of them, soft and tender and ugly.

(Even if, at some point, she should speak with Zoey regarding that kiss. Regarding how she should not kiss a thing like Rumi, the child of a demon, all iron and sharp edges—even if she might have chosen to keep her here and try to soften them, that does not make Rumi…

And such openness would certainly make her father roll over in his grave, were he to glimpse it, and she is certain that so much cannot have changed over the centuries.)

Visitors to the hanok are rare during standard business hours; they are unheard of first thing in the morning.

Behind her, she can feel the girls fall silent and still as deer caught unawares, all staring in the direction of the door. “We’re you expecting company, mudang-nim?” Rumi-nim asks hesitantly, almost apologetically, as she turns from the fridge, leaving the door hanging open and spilling cold air into the kitchen.

(that’s probably why Celine feels like the air’s dropped several degrees).

“No.” Celine straightens, sets down the dish she’s holding. “I’m not.”

“What if it’s the coppers?” Zoey squeaks, grabbing Mira’s arm.

Celine hates that she was thinking the same thing.

Rumi-nim looks puzzled, probably wondering why metal is something to worry about (bless her- or, wait, she would normally call on Rumi-nim to do that…), but Zoey keeps going. “What if they followed our trail of crimes? I stole a car! And Rumi-“ She pales, and Rumi-nim looks like she suddenly understands the cant of Zoey’s thoughts.

Rumi-nim blinks, her eyes full of memories and hurt that have Celine kicking that extremely inappropriate urge to fold her into a hug, then as smoothly as water sliding off a windowpane slips on a neutral expression like it's a mask. “It would not be the first time I have dealt with such objections to my actions. I am prepared to meet with these ‘coppers.’”

“The fuck you’re not!” Mira snarls, the bruises mottling her face adding an extra layer of menace to her defiant expression.

“Hell yeah!” Zoey nods. She slams a fist into a palm. “They want you, they’re dealing with us first!”

Celine should not condone violence, but she’s already been considering answering the door with a ceremonial sword in hand- just for appearances, of course- so.

“Why don’t you three get dressed while I see who it is?” Celine waves them towards the easily defensible hallway leading to the bedrooms as she heads for the door, electing to leave the sword (for now).

It becomes clear as she approaches the door that it is not the cops or, if it is, are extremely unprofessional.

"See?" The whispered voice is just audible through the door. "I told you it was too damn early to be knocking on doors!"

"What do you want to do, give her a chance to leave?" A second voice hisses back. "Lives could be at stake here, and we need- OH!"

At that moment Celine opened the door just as one of her visitors was about to knock again, the woman just barely stopping herself before punching Celine in the throat.

The fist's owner promptly yanked it back and hurried into a bow. "I am so sorry!"

"For many, many things..." her companion muttered, doing the same.

Celine arched a brow. Well, at least they weren't the police. That much was clear. No badges, no radios, a rental car in her driveway, and clothes that looked like they'd slept in them.

Still, she didn't lower her guard. As she had learned lately, there were far worse people lurking around Korea.

Lifting a brow, she folds her arms imperiously. "May I help you?"

"Yes." The first woman, the one who nearly collapsed her windpipe, smiles brightly as she comes up from her bow. "I'm Ryu Miyeong, a reporter investigating a case, and this is my associate-"

"From where?" Celine interrupts before the associate with the curliest hair she's seen in her life and an expression somewhere between concerned and keenly perturbed can be introduced.

Ryu Miyeong blinks, momentarily caught off-guard by the question, but the smile swoops back onto her face a beat later. "A paper in Seoul."

Celine narrows her eyes. Evasive. Never a good sign.

"We think you may have some information about a case we're-"

"I'm sure I don't." Celine says brusquely, moving to shut the door. So what if it feeds into the 'mountain hermit' stereotype, a reporter who won't identify who she's with is not someone she wants sniffing around the hanok. Even less considering recent events.

"We're looking for information about Rumi? From the legends?" Ryu Miyeong persists, even as her associate starts to tug at her sleeve. She smiles again, too much to be trustworthy. "We heard these lands are alleged to have belonged to her?"

If Celine had her doubts before, they're stronger now. She eyes the woman critically. She was under the impression the cult died with Mira's family, but...

“If they come, they come,” she declares, over Zoey’s objections. “We might as well greet them properly dressed.”

“And if they decide to start shooting?” Zoey asks.

Mira pauses, before reminding her, as gently as she can, “We’re not in the US.”

“Oh,” Zoey says, anxiety faltering a little. “Right. …Still a possibility!”

“Uh-huh,” Mira agrees, amusedly crossing her arms.

So. They go and get dressed. Not, like, properly, duh, but Mira shimmies into some of the jeans she bought the day before and comes back to listen at the corner once she’s presentable.

“And why is it that two grown women care so much about a story meant to scare children?” Celine asks coldly.

“It’s for an article,” says a new voice—unfamiliar and almost fixedly bright. “Like I said.”

Mira hears the door creaking, footsteps on wood. They’re coming inside. Or at least trying—she doesn’t hear it shut, after all.

“And which paper was that again?” Celine asks. Probably blocking the doorway now, Mira guesses. “And why don’t you let your associate answer? I hadn’t caught her name, either.”

There’s a shuddering pause. Zoey arrives, looking ready to march straight up to the door. Mira grabs her by the arm.

“Not sure yet,” she whispers. “We stay here.”

Zoey frowns a little, but before she can object—

“Park Minji,” a new voice says. “And she’s with the Chronicle.”

Mira’s nose wrinkles instinctively. The only reason she can think of claiming to be from that rag is because they won’t be paying enough attention to notice an impersonator.

“She is?” Celine echoes.

“…I’m freelance,” Park Minji says. It’s pretty obviously a lie.

Mira looks at Zoey for agreement. Zoey nods back at her, mouthing… something. Mira’s shit at lip reading.

“Just whisper,” she whispers.

Zoey doesn’t waste any time asking, thankfully. “Cult guys?”

Mira shakes her head. She doesn’t know these people.

“Really?” Celine drawls, icily sarcastic. “So, what, the two of you would like to tell the world that something woke Rumi from her grave and now she’s… gone and turned Yoon Suk Yeol’s wife into a lesbian and that’s why he tried to declare martial law?”

Mira nearly chokes on her efforts to keep from laughing until her jaw cracks again, but something about what Celine said makes Zoey frown thoughtfully, like she’s just been presented with a mystery.

The first stranger laughs, though. “You know, normally I’d be trying to defend my journalistic integrity, but in this case, what we think happened is almost that crazy. Mind if we come in to explain?”

And several things happen at once.

Rumi appears, tilting her head in confusion at why Mira and Zoey are stopped at the corner, and starts walking on.

Celine says a terse, “Yes.”

And Mira attempts to catch Rumi before she can be spotted by their visitors, much like she had Zoey.

…Except for the part where Rumi is an ancient superhero, and barely notices Mira’s hand on her arm, sending her toppling forward. So Zoey, of course, tries to catch her flailing other arm, but Mira, being twice her height, instead manages to take her down, leading to the two of them not catching Rumi, but full-body side tackling Rumi.

Who, with long-trained instincts, promptly catches them.

Though not before stumbling all the way across the hallway and into not just full sight, but also full hearing of their visitors as she gets pushed into an end table and sets the vase atop it crashing to the floor.

Or, well, she can; there was a reason she'd driven up here at the crack of dawn to knock on the shaman's door. But it's almost surreal, seeing her carefully constructed theories come crashing to life.

(literally)

“Minji is a registered nurse, she can show you her ID—you can show them your ID, right?” Ryu Miyeong says, still so rapid-fire that Celine almost starts to think it’s just her baseline, and not waiting for an answer. “Can she come check on your friend with the face? Or the kid with the tattoos? She just fell into a bunch of broken vase, and I know Minji won’t calm down until she’s sure they’re fine.”

Park Minji, more sedately, shrugs and adds, “It’s all those years in the ER.”

“Please remove your foot from my doorframe,” Celine says icily.

Unfortunately, that’s when Zoey says, loud enough for them all to hear, “We could use a real medical professional, not just… me.”

Rumi-nim… Rumi-nim does not help when she protests, “You have done perfectly well!”

Park Minji frowns worriedly and starts forward in what looks like long-trained impulse, spreading her hands. “My name is Park Minji; I’m a licensed nurse. Is there a medical issue I can provide care for?”

Celine does not intend to let her by—looking like something and actually being it are two vastly different things, and she does not want these women in her house—but the small woman slips right past her.

Ryu Miyeong’s eyes glitter (like some kind of satisfied snake, of course), even if Celine very much catches her before she gets inside.

“I thought you said you were a journalist?” Mira asks coolly.

And, somewhat to Celine’s surprise, Park Minji fishes into her pockets and retrieves an ID badge, offering it out to Mira. “Nurse registrar at Seoul General. I might spend more time behind a desk than I do on cases, but I’m still required to keep up to date in order to maintain my license.”

Rumi-nim stiffens, stepping back, and Celine doesn’t need to hear any more.

Zoey, however, decides she does. “Hey, we’re fine, she’s just trying to help, I promise, you can talk to her all you want.”

Whatever awaited at the end of their search awaited both of them now.

Eh - there's not that much on the story bones. More an idea/feel. Though I can talk about any ideas I have for hours at the drop of a hat.

(So ask questions at your own peril)

So okay, I use Star Wars Prequels versus Star Wars Sequels as my go to for explaining the difference between expanding possibilities in a story universe and drastically curtailing them.

The thing with the Star Wars Prequels is that due to the Original Trilogy things in the Clone Wars don't matter long term in the official canon unless they are something that can survive through the Original Trilogy.

So honestly Ahsoka actually is a character that hypothetically fits the bill in the sense of - Teenager in the Clone Wars, went through the Empire, and isn't written as dead dead in the original trilogy so the story can hypothetically get around to just how things were complicated in the Clone Wars.

The reason I bring this all up is that - well, the time right before Order 66 is called the Twilight of the Jedi for a reason. There was issues. It's just that because the Original Trilogy funnels everything into a much more simplistic story so things like oh - the Jedi order presumably were in for a generational reckoning due to all the issues from the War has to be put on pause.

Very much NOT "The Jedi are the evil ones actually" - but more a case of "They were looking to be in a case of needing to do some house keeping, and quickly before they had rot creeping into things"

I focus a lot on the Padawans when I think about the Clone Wars because, just messing up with the next generation seems to be an ongoing issue when I look at the Prequel trilogy.

Obi-Wan -> Getting dropped by Qui-Gon because Qui-Gon wanted to train Anakin. Obi-Wan -> Then ending up having to mentor Anakin, so a guy in his mid 20s suddenly in charge of a very traumatized boy, who is alienated due to being unusually old for an order trainee and is also starting as being super behind because again unusually old. And given that Obi-Wan never talked with Qui-Gon's Master, not even for "How do I train an apprentice"… there's this layer of distance implied. I've taken to imagining Obi-Wan and maybe some good friends of his ending up just staring at their hands because trying to figure out how to train Anakin and get him up to par because Padawans tend to go with their master unless given a very good reason.

Jump ahead to the Clone Wars… and Ahsoka is sent to Anakin as a trainee as a lesson to him. (Yes out of universe there's other reasons but I'm focusing on the in-universe stuff) A teenager is being sent to an incredibly young Knight to teach him responsibility… but that includes sending a young teenager into a war zone.

Also again - Jedi Order having an incoming problem because to me it looks like they shredded their trainee pipeline in numbers and also were looking at essentially a cultural shift unless they kicked everything into high gear…

There's three main cohorts as I think about it.

You have older Padawans - who get promoted to Knight early on the basis of combat expertise, like Anakin.

Which A) Focused on the combat level, and the role change of the Order and B) Obi-Wan was a Padawan and had to be pushed as ready to take the trials by Qui-Gon despite being older than Anakin during the Clone Wars was.

You have the young Padawans that entered the age bracket during the Clone Wars - and presumably for obvious reasons the Temple were preparing them for combat versus all the other lessons and important things that were taught prior to the war.

You can't just flip a switch and change that training and socialization. Also just population number wise they are presumably being shredded because war but not as badly as the next group.

Who I call the War Padawans, which is Ahsoka and Bariss' cohort. The ones who became Padawans before the war, or near the start and so may have some experience before the Jedi turned to being warriors/generals/soldiers as their reason for being.

Bariss the writing shifted to have her age changed to be closer to Ahsoka's age but kept her as being at Geonosis I.

Which specifically showed a lot of Jedi die - and included teenagers. Because the Jedi didn't realize what they were going into, and it was a massacre.

And these are the people that would be just shredded as a cohort due to age, lack of experience and the fact that upon getting more experience - they start getting pulled away from whoever is training them because well, they're able to fight and that's the role of the Jedi right?

As I said - the Jedi were looking at issues before Order 66 just changed made all that irrelevant because the Order stopped being a thing.

So Japer Hzell is the Captain (and cook by virtue of knowing his way around the kitchen) of the Taurus. And he's had a few problems, and has exchanged some for others.

He is a former Separatist solider, and while officially the Empire has forgiven that and has let the former combatants be productive members of society. And some how the extra thick and exacting inspection regulations comes out for his ship specifically.

His ship is missing some important positions being filled. Like a doc.

His pilot has also been incredibly clear that someone is needed to actually run the navigation/communications when she's flying.

His engineer agrees and is threatening to sabotage Jasper's hot water supply if Jasper doesn't find someone besides said engineer to fill in that position.

The benefits of being captain included the ability to choose your own uniform, own hat and decide whether or not alcohol was allowed onboard. The downsides of being captain included speaking to the half insane long term mercenary that had been functionally hired on when your snake of a brother attempted to sell the entire crew out to pirates and the qualities of "not shooting at us" outweighed "sanity questionable".

Also the crew's weapon expert/feral cat was screwy for a few weeks before taking off.

Now the Empire's inspectors are incredibly frustrated and prone to lashing out because some Jedi escaped in the sector- which is bad for his pocketbook because even more fines and damaged merchandise. And for his stress because the weapon expert used the Jedi's escape to rescue a political prisoner. Very kind woman albeit foolish enough to get picked up at a cultural event of all things, who desperately needs medical care and time to heal. And needs to be hidden in the smuggler's hold whenever an inspector comes aboard.

Good news - they now have a doctor. Bad news - it turns out they've had a doctor for three years now. Their feral cat had been holding out on them.

One of the ways I know how to balance more… well, dark stuff is making sure to have a source of comedy that can be swapped to, or be able to approach the delicate topics in ways that are still… well, tough but able to be taken in chunks.

So the crew of the Taurus are unknowingly being mediators between Dark Fallen Apprentice and Jedi Master. Including highlights such as wanting to just lock the "Presumed Orphan found scuttling around a space port and mentor who somehow ended up as mentor" until the two admit that emotional adoption occurred but given that the two managed to break out of an Imperial site, even with a Jedi Master breakout as a distraction locking them anywhere just wouldn't work.

Now threatening to lock up the tea kettle might…

Oooh okay okay okay. This concept sounds even more fun the more you go into it

So I do ah, massage/tweak details sometimes for a smoother story. Sometimes it's updating a character to have a more distinct type that works better with what I need "Divine Dragon" -> Dragon of the Mountain Sky. And other times its like a Twilight Princess idea I have where multiple changes occur (Tossing of Ganandorf to keep Zant as the big bad for thematic reasons, switch out trapped as Wolf for trapped as shadow monster, keeping Twilight areas around longer, making the Resistance more important, Ilia gets upgraded to Quartermaster for the Resistance and is in charge of making sure there's lantern oil around despite the amount of people running in different directions...) I bring this up because I'm fairly sure I'm doing this to Dark Force User as a concept. So - uh... I primarily known the movies and the Clone Wars animation. So EU stuff is stuff I don't know and I work with it like how I see comic book adaptations. You bring in what works, try not to twist things into caricatures but you are not bound to keeping all everything. And when it comes to stuff beyond the movies the thing that has long drawn my attention is Knights of the Old Republic - specifically how the major thing that sets up the story to ever happen is that the hypocritical, prickly and arrogant Knight decided to save Revan on the grounds that everyone deserves a second chance. Which is something that comes in a lot with my ideas in general (though given that I have trouble getting things written I don't have much to point to) is that being good is not being perfect. Good is messy, mistakes and picking up when you fail. And so - yeah, I tend to go with Luke being in the right of it not being too late even for Vader. (While agreeing that Leia would have never forgiven him and would be perfectly justified for not doing so). Which all adds up to my approach with the Padawan/Dark Student. Okay so I came up with this idea in 2022 - so the whole thing with Barriss was unresolved and if I ever do work with this I'll probably just keep her and Luminara and declare an AU. (For how Barriss got away which would be used for if I switch to an OC - my explanation was kept on Coruscant and such was in vincinity of the Temple when Anakin happened. So major hit through the force of disaster - and with chaos/communication shut down during the massacre at the temple got out, faked death in chaos and ran). So - one of the things is to keep Barriss responsible for her own actions -that there's a reason she was jailed, and a reason she fell. Even if I change the feral cat to a different character - they are not supposed to be in the right. At the same time - well, a large point of the exercise is to actually interact with the issues of the Republic as opposed to it getting swallowed by the Empire being an issue. And in particular War Padawans for reasons of "Yeah - the Jedi were training combat/military operations with teenagers - and thus they ended up with teenagers who would use said training". And again Luke. So Dark Jedi in this case is A. War Trauma B. Subsuming emotion under rage and apathy because it hurts less. C. Prone to lashing out D. Arrogance for reasons of uh - being rather proven right in regards to there being issues with the order. E. Deep seated belief that things can't get better or improve Very much not entirely safe to be around. But not... someone that is an active threat either. Also very much leveraging in the fact that the Empire is a major threat - and using the Taurus crew as cover. "Part of crew for several years" is a lot less likely person to poke for being a secret Jedi and Jasper has his own reasons for keeping to areas with more loose Empire control. Meanwhile the relationship with the master.

The door hissed open, [Jedi] 's right knee buckling. The jedi rolled in mid air, twisting to protect herself from landing --

Landing in the arms of a furious medic. "You shall not stand again until I have stated you are well enough to do so."

[Jedi] froze, body going limp, allowing herself to be lifted and carried back into the bed. Clinical hands checking bandages.

"You failed at reopening anything." The unmistakable, absent, achingly familiar voice continued scathingly. Two hands gently adjusted the head covering to properly sit.

[Jedi] blinked, looking up, only a lifetime of control holding her emotions from broadcasting over the force as she reached out. Reached out to trace the training bond terminating in front of her.

"[Feral Cat]," [Jedi] forced out in a whisper, reaching a shaking hand to catch [Feral Cat]'s cloak.

A pair of Dark side yellow eyes mocked her memories, but the force didn't lie.

[Feral Cat] peeled [Jedi]'s hand away.

"I intend you no harm, Master Jedi." [Jedi]'s padawan stated.

So... A decent portion of this is the idea that making the padawan into a warrior was a large portion of why Feral Cat broke. Stepping into the role of healer again, of caring for someone is a first step, even if extremely tenuous, away from the abyss. It's still at the bottom of a dark pool. But it's progress. Honestly - the dynamic I have in my head is a case of [Feral Cat] feeling extremely betrayed by the war, abandoned and just hurt. Again - intended to be very wrong in many respects but my position is that the Clone Soldiers (being fast grown and without rights to boot) and non adult Padawans as not adults and without the ability of adults to leave shouldn't have been brought into the war zones. The betrayal + Dark Side stuff is poisoning the memory of dynamics before the war. And setting up a growing panic as [Jedi] recovers because this isn't a Vader versus Obi-wan situation from the Original Trilogy. [Jedi] is legitimately recovering and growing stronger - and experience is very much power for force users. Letting [Jedi] heal puts control/power dynamic more firmly in their hands - away from [Feral Cat]. What happens when the dynamic finally flips ? (Nothing obviously because I would not be able to write this as a tragedy but Feral Cat wouldn't know that.) It's... the betrayal happened in a hundred unnoticed ways during the war. And despite that Feral Cat goes for the desperation play because not willing to live forever with "What ifs" - but it is not a show of forgiveness nor trust. It's a show of not being able to live with not trying. Which in my head puts the balance of repay-al of that trust being on the mentor's head. Feral Cat is wrong in so many ways - but this is their part of the recovery as opposed to learning how they fucked up and painful character growth. So why does the Taurus crew not realize they have a Jedi on board? 1. Because they form their mental picture of their new navigator/comms operator before they see any depictions of said individual as a Jedi. So - when the break out first occurs - the Empire doesn't broadcast that it happened on all frequencies. The Taurus realizes that something is happening - but that's because they are having out of normal sequence of events inspection (which happened to occur before the Jedi being searched for arrived) and said inspectors being obvious about lashing out.

Samuel hummed, tapping away at his tablet. "What is your ship's current contents?"

"We are transporting purchased furs and other fabrics to Naos, unsold seeds to sell upon the way, some medical equipment, and an mind crushing amount of Valij wood that is the cause of why we have air scents at every doorway." Jasper listed immediately.

Samuel kept tapping away. "You do understand that I must inspect every compartment and singular crate you have, Captain."

Jasper reared back, pressing two hands to his chest. "Is the Inspector Paris in good health? The good man searched the entire ship from top to bottom when we left Abhean four days ago." "Abhean." Samuel repeated. Another tap to the tablet. "The Inspector is currently fine. Let us view your hold."

Jasper glanced the Imperial bootlicker from head to toe. The jackboots enjoyed pressing anyone with less power than them into the cratered ground. But no one enjoyed a manual search of every content of a freighter the size of the Taurus. Several hundred containers remained several hundred containers no matter how gleeful someone was to hold a blaster cannon to someone's skull. What was the man searching for?

"Of course Inspector, if you will follow me." -Scene Break- In true Imperial fashion the Taurus, and thus Jasper was slapped with several fines before the inspection was completed. Chipped outward facing paint upon the containers, a need for an additional layer of straps and restraints upon the the loaded containers despite the physical impossibility of passing the wide physical straps over the stacks of multiple containers when in a previous inspection the Empire had ruled that electronic worker walkers would be available only to operations one of the Empire's permits - limited to only 100,000 such permits in the entire Empire. And opened three containers of formerly laboratory grade sterile and uncontaminated bandages.

In contrast Jasper had a front row seat to watching Samuel begin to sweat while each individual crate or packaged opened revealed something other than what the man was searching for. Which Jasper still did not know. But the aftermath left him with a glorious show. To whoever was responsible for the sequence of events that lead to an Imperial Inspector to fear Jasper owed a great favor to. And they owed him 34,000 credits.

Samuel slammed down the final crate. Jasper winced as he heard the pottery bound for the city of Naik on Mygeeto crack. 34,850 credits owed after the discount for the shipment delay was applied. So when they first hear of actual details to the news ( I never quite figured out the how of the break out - but enabling a mass break out is on the list of possibilities and would work for hiding the truth. But the gist always comes down to that a Jedi broke out and that they used the distraction to get their once mentor out)- it's from their feral cat - while dragging in someone who is very quickly identified as essentially said cat's mom. And that is their introduction - a incredibly injured woman who needed more advanced medical care than could be done in a cramped one person ship. (Lower right jaw - oblique fracture with localized edema and contusion. Moderate muscle contusion also present. Three cracked molars. Skin level contusion around right and left eyes, no apparent damage to eyes themselves. Additional surface level contusions and edema upon right side of the face without further skeletal damage. Moderate sized baton, repeatedly swung at her face as well as hands. Molar damage and broken jaw consistent with right handed individual swinging horizontally at considerable speed. Head must have been unbound, no sign of spinal damage.) At her position beneath the dark surface waters of the Force [Feral Cat] wondered just how long she could keep the individual responsible screaming before their throat or heart gave out.

The above is a partial list - and hasn't actually made it to cataloguing anything below the neck. In particular my mind is really set on the mentor needing a wheel chair for mobility once recovered enough to move and will be in "regaining strength to walk" type of physical therapy/conditioning for a while. The Empire's story is that the Jedi broke themselves out. The woman the Taurus meets absolutely needed to be rescued and was indeed rescued. 2. Mentally they connected said Jedi with their feral cat. Who they've known for three years at this point, and view as incredibly prickly, antisocial, unstable somewhat erratic and also probably part fungus. They know [Feral Cat] - and very much see as someone with war trauma, claustrophobic though able to hide it somewhat with a very very bad startle reflex that is very reliable. Sudden Rooster analogy crowing - shoot. Surprise pirate - shoot. (They're all aware of it because they rather like not getting they eyebrows shot off and because they treat said individual as a barometer. If their fungus is dropping to the floor - you drop with. There's also a weapons locker specifically for Feral Cat onboard for safety reasons.) Which - again, I see the War Padawans as something that was a mess that was going to haunt the Jedi Order if Order 66 hadn't happened. The Fallen Apprentice is alive because of the reaction they have - but its not healthy. This all adds up together to someone that the crew just doesn't can't see as a Jedi of any sort. Which just rubs off on the rescuee. 3. Empire Propaganda Backfire There's an image that the Empire has of the Jedi (and remember Jasper was a Separtist. And as my original thoughts with the idea was Barriss and Luminara, Mirial (homeworld) is at least in Separtist territory so he's thinking they were on his side of the war at least at first) is very much twisted by propaganda. Monsters of the type that would use flame throwers in battle. (Which they did use in the Clone Wars Cartoon so I'm utterly okay with bringing it up). In particular the Jedi are blamed for the younglings/padawan massacre that Anakin did. And they're talking with an actual person, who honestly did get picked up at a Cultural event. (This is one of the reasons that Barriss and Luminara are likely to stay the Apprentice - Master pair because I can work with erasure of culture and the like by the Empire).

I think the thing about Barriss, though, is that both her at her best and her at her worst are defined by compassion and hatred for violence—like, yeah, she can be cowardly and selfish and very very very good at violence, and she will use the tools she has at hand, but I don’t see her ever sustaining a career as a mercenary. So it kinda works better to me that this would be an oc?

I love tackling the problems of the Republic and the Jedi in terms of who they used as soldiers during the war, especially of an attitude that while there were systemic failures that doesn’t mean the Jedi were like. Inherently evil

(Also to come back to Ahsoka again, being what I am: one might be able to tell I feel,,,, annoyed by the fact that she’s reclaimed the title of Jedi post-Empire in canon, since I thought having her as a non-Fallen Force user who also wasn’t one really represented the complexities of interacting with The Jedi Order as a body and arm of the state as compared to the Jedi, heroic monk dudes)

Definitely vibe with your takes on darksiders—lots of ways to Fall, perfectly possible to be Fallen and ultimately reach a point of stability while still being Bad Fucking News, absolutely easy to be driven by poorly handled war trauma

I love the concept of the power dynamic between the two of them, with Feral Cat having to worry about what their former master might do if they allow her to heal. That’s such a perfect way to deal with the Dark Side-cycle of fear and selfishness. (Also, like, the idea of the Jedi, who might not herself be a healer but did raise one, knowing exactly what’s going on if anything happens with her treatment and just letting it happen because she has faith in her Feral Cat.)

Definitely seeing the, like, Feral Cat coming down into the hold just to go on these weird rants about everything from before and how fucking awful the Jedi was, how much she failed them, and the Jedi kind of having to sit there quietly to digest all of it and be like. Ohhhh okay. So I Fucked Up. Most of that isn’t true but I definitely Fucked Up So Bad

And also Feral Cat being like “react!!!” and Jedi just being like. Well if I try to say anything you yell over me. And Feral Cat being like “I hate you and your smug condescension. Die!”

And, so, like, from their pov it’s impossible to tell that this is genuinely a heartbreaking and awful deal for their former master as she comes to terms with how badly she failed them, and when she starts apologizing—

[coughs] Anyway!

Definitely makes sense that all of the context they have for our Jedi keeps her from being someone they could possibly connect with the Jedi who broke out initially

And even later on if they see pictures of her from a decade or so before—and if she’s heavily injured, then we’re probably talking a lot skinnier, if nothing else. (And especially if we return to the idea of this being Luminara, and note that even without an intentional disguise, it’s entirely possible that the Jedi now might have a very different silhouette than the Jedi then—Luminara’s headdress, for example, would probably have been replaced with something much simpler.)

Okay so the "Mercenary" thing is very much the crew's understanding. The order of events in my head is that the Feral Cat (OC or Barriss) just ended up at the right place at the right time. Possibly Will of the Force related ala Rogue One view of the Force being unable to protect Rogue One as to Force being unable to protect the Jedi but being able to push things enough to save what could be. With what could be is one very hurt individual and also an assorted group of individuals who just got sold out by Jasper's brother to pirates. Feral Cat at that moment happened to need to get off world/moon/sattelite/random station due to Empire dodging so any ship leaving was a good ship. And just, took the opportunity to join the crew that would evac straight off the area as soon as they made it to port. Thing is Taurus is a freighter (possibly with limited armament for defense) . They aren't looking for trouble - Jasper wants to go on the shipping lanes, sell sterile bandages, finished goods and resources. The crew sees Feral Cat as a mercenary due to Feral Cat's skill set. Because War Padawan that survived the war needs to be extremely good at killing. Also the things like able to fly a fighter, sneak into places (if I work on this and move to an OC I am going to be keeping the fact that Barriss was able to sneak up on Ventress with a pipe because the sneaky bit isn't seen as a key part of her skill set and makes for great "And this is why you are creepy" characterization for the crew) and the general skill-set that were making the Jedi the special forces of the Republic's army. Taken away from the context of Jedi (due to Feral Cat having opinions) looks rather like a mercenary. Because the dynamic on the ship is less "We hire Feral Cat to kill things" - it's - "We bring Feral Cat around when we're okay with any potential problems being just killed because of that startle reflex, and if anything happens we let the competent at killing individual clear the path back to the ship." With a side of "Okay - we have pirates boarding us - and they've met with Feral Cat." For Feral Cat - it's not so much hiring out as a mercenary. It's that they are on a non-military ship that happens to be away from heavily secured Empire world and space for safety reasons. Which corresponds with the problems that congregate in such areas. And then proceeding to defend self - which has the corresponding effect of preventing the rest of the crew from dying. Admittedly I'm someone that plays with perspective reflexively. So to me there's a clear distinction.

Also I do need to comment that part of the healing process is also just the Taurus crew. As I said previously - Feral Cat stepping back into the role of healer I see as the first step of recovery. And is why it's important that they never said that they were a healer/doc/medic of any sort with the Taurus because interacting and helping people in that way would have led to their recovery being much farther along. People react to their environment. ... Okay non sequitur because I use analogies to anchor conversations because communication is hard. (And the fact that I use gestalts of information - which is probably a bastardization of the words usage since its related to Gestalt psychology principles but I have yet to find another word that encompasses “gestalt” stems from the idea of making meaning of patterns and perceiving information as a meaningful, organized whole. better. Teach me exactly one fact and I'm not going to get it well in context. It's like "You put bait on the hook." without the information of bait attracts fish, fish get trapped on hook, hook is attached to line, which is attached to a pull which is used to lever the fish out of the water once bit... There's a tipping point where the individual facts fit together and that unified concept is what my brain is able to spin around and poke. It however also means that my concept of "This is information that is needed for other people to follow" has a long LONG list of error messages.) So you know how before we had a short back and forth with Celine about how with injuries and the like the Honmoon possibly just gas lit people because even if they noticed that something was wrong she'd heal too quickly for them to get the mental tally up to "Okay I need to investigate" before the Honmoon finished the healing. Meanwhile if something was apparent and immediately seen - do not pass go, do not collect 200 dollars straight to the woo woo van and the ambulance with ye. I both have a faith in people in the sense of "If someone sees someone actively attacked and bleeding, someone's calling an ambulance." (See my inclusion in one of the Celine Kitsune AUs where her mother escaped by running into a crowd and thus not being able to be actively killed in the middle of a market by the hunters prior to the Sunlight Sisters) and a case of "Yeah people are very able to not notice stuff). Inquisitors - in the frame work of Post Prequels - Before Original Trilogy have presumably active monsters who just joined up because they liked what Palpatine was offering and the people they broke. Take one of the latter - manage to somehow not have them kill people in the immediate adjustment period - and put them in a normal location with normal people who aren't going to actively hurt them because they can... and they'll improve. Because people aren't always monsters, and the level of "This person needs help" is high enough that someone willing to help is going to notice - and if they personally can't it's high enough that they can point to someone that can who didn't make the perception roll and the other person will go "Oh, no. You're right". They won't get all the way better but they will improve. Admittedly I'm the exact sort of person that finds the Swedish Connection as one of my favorite WW2 movies. (Swedish diplomats/bureaucracy versus Nazi Germany saving people) As much as the story would be about the Padawan and Mentor reconnecting and just - dealing with the war what was said and not said. It's also the Taurus interacting with the two and being the normal people who weren't part of everything being biased in their own ways, with their own perceptions twisted by Empire propaganda (like thinking it was the Jedi who slaughtered the children) but also doing the quiet things like "You took a teenager into a war zone. What exactly did you expect to happen?"

Lastly - especially with an OC pair. How much the fear is unjustified or not as to "what happens when the recovery is done" I'm not sure of. Out of story Feral Cat is not going to get hurt for letting the power dynamic shift out of her favor. If it was ever a threat the Jedi Master's character development will be at the point it doesn't happen. The question is more whether the character development/"Jasper and Jedi master has some conversations that are not fun for either party" is needed and how much. The Jedi did indeed have structural issues - and Luke does indeed ignore Yoda as to his father. Dark Side -> Threat to be eradicated as opposed to be saved fits with the through line of what I recall of the Prequels especially in regards to the Jedi becoming warriors versus peace keepers.

Though one might also argue that it’s just supporting your stance that this is a case of the Jedi Institution (who need sithkillers) again being distinct from the Jedi People (who care too much to not try)

Interestingly, I think Luminara is an example of a Jedi who might experience some real conflict about that difference between what she thinks she’s supposed to do (take out the threat) versus what she really wants to do (save her former student), if her actions during the second battle of Geonosis are any indication (specifically Barriss getting presumed dead and Luminara just. Shutting down about that)

(Again, uh, while I accept and understand your clarification regarding perception vs reality, my read of Barriss as a character—which doesn’t have to be yours—is that this situation doesn’t quite make sense for her to end up in because of her relationship to violence, so I’m more citing Luminara here than going “this is how I think the situation might play out”. But if it helps you with the story as you want to write it, that’s cool!)

I think with the average Jedi, the fear would be entirely unjustified, especially since the worst Feral Cat is doing seems to be doing when something really triggers them isn’t, like, mass murder, so it’s pretty clear they haven’t gone full “I am a black hole” darksider

(Also in terms of tangents I need to get out parenthetically somewhere:

The sequels. Frustrate me for many, many reasons, not the least of which is how they decide to reset the OT to square one—ne’er-do-well Han, rebel leader Leia, fallen republic, no Jedi—instead of actually doing something interesting and new with the setting. I might have issues with the EU’s takes on what happened after ROTJ, but at least they said something did)

The crew’s perception of what’s up as, like, they slowly figure out that Jedi is Feral Cat’s mom-like person, and then figure out that Jedi is the reason Feral Cat is the way they are with respect to combat, and then figure out that they were in the middle of the fucking Clone Wars somehow would be very interesting, especially because all Jedi would be able to say about what she expected to happen would be that there wasn’t any other option. You don’t have a self, you give it up for the service of others. She wasn’t allowed to be so attached that she could decide to keep her child out of it

Yeah, I mean, I know there’s the “once you start down a dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny” of it all, but. Well. I think we see enough examples of Jedi whose response to darksiders is not that, before the fall of the Republic, to argue that it’s not exactly dogma

Though one might also argue that it’s just supporting your stance that this is a case of the Jedi Institution (who need sithkillers) again being distinct from the Jedi People (who care too much to not try)

Okay - so what timeline exactly are you thinking? Again - I am mostly going off show + and movies. For me I am thinking of the Jedi Order as from probably a generation or so prior to Anakin showing up to be told "He's too old" to Order 66. And I specifically focus on Anakin being "too old" because things probably would have gone even worse if Qui-Gon then Obi-Wan hadn't been able to get the Council to have him somewhat associated with the order. Because Palpatine would have swooped in immediately and then - well, Darth Vader as raised as Palpatine's apprentice. And the only big thing of dark side versus light side other than individuals going dark side and then removed from the story I can think of in Clone Wars is Ventress... Which had her be taught away from the Temple and more a repeat of Anakin in the sense of "Taken from a bad situation by a Jedi fulfilling what a Jedi should be - but without the institution behind them, leaving no safety net when the dangers of a Jedi's calling lead to one of their predictable ends".

So things/stories prior to that point I'd put under "There was a cultural shift/doctrine change". I do agree it's not inherent to the dogma - but well, schisms occur for a reason within religions. And the thing I mentally note with Star Wars Prequels is that to me there does appear to be a layer of... I won't say forced conformity. But there are characters that note that something is off, that something is changing. But they end up outside of the power structure due to their own failings (Barriss does call it that things have changed for the worse even while her actions are abhorrent, while Dooku in a deleted scene I believe is noted to have lost faith in the Republic) or due to outside events (Qui-Gon dying and Ahsoka leaving). Though I will admit that Anakin is an exception to this because if he had left the Order to be married to Padme she'd have been bringing him into her circle of associates and that would have brought in a second round of people to roll perception checks as to Anakin's dynamic with Palpatine. (But that's because Anakin's own choices are part of the tragedy structure separate from the Jedi Council) Which is structurally pivotal to the story because the Prequels is about how the Republic became the Empire - how a Democracy turned into a dictatorship (without outside intervention). The thing is that the end of the Republic wasn't inevitable - though it became final before Palpatine unleashed Order 66. So individuals noticing that something is wrong - even if they're not quite sure what is important as a tragic element of "This could have been prevented". Admittedly for me my way of seeing the Jedi Order's commitment to the Republic is that it's become incredibly reflexive.

It's how as you point out - that recognizing that a child Padawanis a kid who shouldn't be in combat and acting upon it to prevent an obvious issue becomes attachment and thus a bad thing. Admittedly I'm exactly the type of person who reads thinks like walkability and street design planning documents. Systems have a way of anonymizing and distancing responsibility. This is part of the reason why Jasper being around as a normal person to talk with Jedi is important because well, he's not emotionally involved in the way that Feral Cat is. Part of the reason I'm poking at Feral Cat being afraid of what happens when their master/former master recovers is that... well consequence being a thing. I am putting the fact that teenagers and child soldiers were occurring as a failing on the Jedi Order. And for all the ways that Feral Cat has made mistakes and done harm - being a child Padawan sent to the battlefield isn't their mistake. So it's not just that Feral Cat thinks that their master failed them - in the end I do think that their master did. In the way that someone goes "This is how the world works" and just continues on does. Nothing personal, nothing intentional. Like an engineer noticing that there is signs of degradation and wear on a damn. And also being someone with the training to know that increased rainfall makes it more likely for that damn to give way. But not saying anything when any requests for funds for maintenance or repair are ignored. If any were made at the time. As a work as a whole Star Wars very much believes in reaching that hand out, of taking that chance. (While also be willing to have say Chewbacca backing the person taking that chance so that if things go wrong they're not completely screwed) The Jedi Order during the Clone Wars? That is the question - Feral Cat needed help during the war and if their master followed protocol in that to try and spare harm would be to be attached... Feral Cat is Dark Side - and the protocol/understanding as they would know it from the war by all indicators I can think of is once you start down a dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny

And they also know that when push came to shove last time - that they didn't get help when they were drowning. Eh - it's balancing Jedi not being monsters even if they did have some bad ideas with the fact that hurt people can and do hurt people, and that someone doesn't need to be perfectly innocent to deserve help. After all - Feral Cat going "Okay I can't live with not trying" and going for the rescue is intended to be a step out of the dark. So trying to avoid the idea that the issue was Feral Cat being lashing out and the like during the war. They needed help before, they need help now. What's the difference - and I want there to be a difference besides just Feral Cat or "Feral Cat didn't ask for help last time so their master couldn't help"

My primary example from the TCW cartoon is something I’ve debatably misremembered, which is the relationship between Kit Fisto and Nahdar Vebb. And the only reason I add a “debatably” and don’t just say “he was dumb, but not a darksider,” is the quote on Nahdar’s wiki page claiming he was created “to show that even some Jedi are starting to fall under the temptation to use power to try to win the war." However, Kit very much spends their episode trying to get him back on track

Most of the others are from pre-Disney era works—there’s a lot of examples of “Jedi who has struggles with the Dark as Anakin did (or otherwise has similar circumstance), but figures it out” type arcs. Though Ventress’s return from the Dark Side did get heavily implied to now be Disney canon in Tales, so there’s that

(But as for how Jedi who push back end up being unable to get anything done in the Prequels Era… I mean, yeah. That’s the whole Sith Plot in action, isn’t it? Qui-Gon gets killed by Sidious’s apprentice, Ahsoka gets framed by Sidious, Dooku gets picked up after his disillusionment by Sidious. Congrats to Barriss for fucking up almost entirely on her own, though!)

Definitely hard agree that Feral Cat’s master actually did fail them, I was just trying to say that their perceptions are a bit warped by all the mental illness when I was talking about the ranting

Okay so there's a few different dynamics here, and more pertinently perspectives. I see it as having two and a half different spectrums at play with three different perspectives. 1. Perception that Jedi will attack when recovered sufficiently - which for the Jedi is changed with how much thinking they have to do as to what happens. 2. Perception/understanding that Feral Cat is afraid of point 1. 3. Perception of whether Jedi is aware of point 2. Okay so yeah obviously Feral Cat is the easiest one to lock down because the entire plot point is based on them being terrified that it will happen and inching forward with the healing despite the risk. The only part in flux is whether they think the Jedi is aware, unaware of it. Especially if they are hiding that they are terrified - which presumably they are because admitting that they are terrified is too emotionally healthy for them. The part more in flux is Taurus Crew and Jedi. So I'm going to start with the Taurus Crew because I think its simpler. 1. The question of how aware/certain they are that Jedi indeed won't do it or frankly more importantly would even try to make themselves. (Because while there is no way that any attempt would make it to "And this is where the Jedi kills the Dark Sider" portion of events, it's the attempt happening that would cause the damage. And the crew would realize it.) 2. The question of how aware they are that Feral Cat is frightened of what happens when that balance shifts and when they become aware of it if so. 3. The question of their perception of whether Jedi is aware that Feral Cat is frightened. For Jedi 1. Which is more unthinkable - attacking their Padawan or going against the (Twilight of the Jedi Era) doctrine. This is very much a load stone because it sets up what the Taurus crew is responding to. 2. How aware are they that Feral Cat is completely certain/terrified that once the balance tips a fight might/will happen. We are talking about someone who explicitly managed to have their Padawan fall on them before due to War Trauma. Completely capable of being denser than a brick. 3 is not applicable for obvious reasons.

Note here is that the Jedi was captured by the Empire, seriously injured and very much had a miracle of a rescue by their once Padawan. And people recovering from very recent traumatic events can have very very stupid ideas. Okay people can have stupid ideas at any time - but yeah post that clinging strongly to identity and prior interpretations can possibly lead to erratic behavior. Which is a long way of saying - if the trauma response is gripping the Jedi identity with both hands, the character's idea of what that Jedi identity should be becomes important.

In practice the Jedi actually attacking would not happen essentially ever. By the time the character becomes physically able to do so - emotionally/mentally would have progressed past the point where able to convince self that it was the right thing to do.

The question is more of whether there was ever a question. Especially as that does have ramifications for Jedi's development when looking back on the Clone War. Alongside how aware Jedi is that for Feral Cat it is a question or worse a "This is going to happen eventually". (This is part of the reason why the Crew is very much able to pick up on that Feral Cat is terrified even if they hide it. Preparations to flee/leave and Feral Cat essentially trying to time for the sweet spot of "No longer needs someone actively treating nor monitoring" and "At point where the conduct of being a Jedi demands destruction of dark sider" (as understood by War Padawan from Twilight of the Jedi) just being something that would be visible even if nothing else is. The fact that it's not just the Padawan and Master pair but that there are third parties who by that time will be emotionally invested in both sides adds a layer of complexity because while Feral Cat is still a rather self centered/ ego centric dark sider (look isolation -> dark sider -> relationship with reality is strained and is responding to more fears that reflect reality than reality) the Taurus Crew and Jedi are responding to each other as well as Feral Cat. And the dynamics and aftermath of "Jasper sitting down with Jedi and pointing out that Feral Cat is waiting for Jedi to attack to Jedi who is completely oblivious" is different than "Japser sitting down and asking softly how Jedi is doing because Feral Cat flinched and had been halfway into a defensive posture when Jedi had moved in [way that could be misconstrued as an attack]" is different than "Jasper asking point blank whether he should be concerned about an attempt to a gobsmacked Jedi who never even considered it and now has to wrangle with the fact that Jasper thought it necessary to ask" versus "Jasper asks and Jedi can't answer because the Jedi answer (Twilight of the Jedi version) should be yes even if she personally wants to say no."

... And it now occurs to me that I do need to consider just how solidified Yoda's position was seen in Order during the war - and whether if there was discussion/disagreement on it if Feral Cat would know about it. (Especially with how the Jedi were being merged/working with the Clone Army for years. Following orders/not arguing/supporting the leadership structure is very much the dynamics created in such an environment). "once you start down a dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny" Besides the option for wallowing because not "able to get better"... Jedi at their best inspire others and help others become better. See Han Solo growing into a better person while around Luke. And blatantly for this plot the Taurus are hiding someone they believe was essentially a political prisoner of the Empire. IE - very much rebel sympathies already there. Or basically think how Heroic Sacrifice tropes shift when a character does not care about themselves enough. And Feral Cat is explicitly someone that was raised in a dynamic that ended up using children padawan as soldiers because of essentially the greater good. ... I mean that would cover the detail that no one came when Feral Cat needed (mental) help during the war. A late game event in the story for a refutation of things being so "simple" would fit. Especially as the issue being not that Feral Cat went dark side (though that is a issue) but the putting in the position. Hmm, some framing would be needed due to the nuance necessary but late game has the time to set that up.

Eh - there's not that much on the story bones. More an idea/feel. Though I can talk about any ideas I have for hours at the drop of a hat.

(So ask questions at your own peril)

So okay, I use Star Wars Prequels versus Star Wars Sequels as my go to for explaining the difference between expanding possibilities in a story universe and drastically curtailing them.

The thing with the Star Wars Prequels is that due to the Original Trilogy things in the Clone Wars don't matter long term in the official canon unless they are something that can survive through the Original Trilogy.

So honestly Ahsoka actually is a character that hypothetically fits the bill in the sense of - Teenager in the Clone Wars, went through the Empire, and isn't written as dead dead in the original trilogy so the story can hypothetically get around to just how things were complicated in the Clone Wars.

The reason I bring this all up is that - well, the time right before Order 66 is called the Twilight of the Jedi for a reason. There was issues. It's just that because the Original Trilogy funnels everything into a much more simplistic story so things like oh - the Jedi order presumably were in for a generational reckoning due to all the issues from the War has to be put on pause.

Very much NOT "The Jedi are the evil ones actually" - but more a case of "They were looking to be in a case of needing to do some house keeping, and quickly before they had rot creeping into things"

I focus a lot on the Padawans when I think about the Clone Wars because, just messing up with the next generation seems to be an ongoing issue when I look at the Prequel trilogy.

Obi-Wan -> Getting dropped by Qui-Gon because Qui-Gon wanted to train Anakin. Obi-Wan -> Then ending up having to mentor Anakin, so a guy in his mid 20s suddenly in charge of a very traumatized boy, who is alienated due to being unusually old for an order trainee and is also starting as being super behind because again unusually old. And given that Obi-Wan never talked with Qui-Gon's Master, not even for "How do I train an apprentice"… there's this layer of distance implied. I've taken to imagining Obi-Wan and maybe some good friends of his ending up just staring at their hands because trying to figure out how to train Anakin and get him up to par because Padawans tend to go with their master unless given a very good reason.

Jump ahead to the Clone Wars… and Ahsoka is sent to Anakin as a trainee as a lesson to him. (Yes out of universe there's other reasons but I'm focusing on the in-universe stuff) A teenager is being sent to an incredibly young Knight to teach him responsibility… but that includes sending a young teenager into a war zone.

Also again - Jedi Order having an incoming problem because to me it looks like they shredded their trainee pipeline in numbers and also were looking at essentially a cultural shift unless they kicked everything into high gear…

There's three main cohorts as I think about it.

You have older Padawans - who get promoted to Knight early on the basis of combat expertise, like Anakin.

Which A) Focused on the combat level, and the role change of the Order and B) Obi-Wan was a Padawan and had to be pushed as ready to take the trials by Qui-Gon despite being older than Anakin during the Clone Wars was.

You have the young Padawans that entered the age bracket during the Clone Wars - and presumably for obvious reasons the Temple were preparing them for combat versus all the other lessons and important things that were taught prior to the war.

You can't just flip a switch and change that training and socialization. Also just population number wise they are presumably being shredded because war but not as badly as the next group.

Who I call the War Padawans, which is Ahsoka and Bariss' cohort. The ones who became Padawans before the war, or near the start and so may have some experience before the Jedi turned to being warriors/generals/soldiers as their reason for being.

Bariss the writing shifted to have her age changed to be closer to Ahsoka's age but kept her as being at Geonosis I.

Which specifically showed a lot of Jedi die - and included teenagers. Because the Jedi didn't realize what they were going into, and it was a massacre.

And these are the people that would be just shredded as a cohort due to age, lack of experience and the fact that upon getting more experience - they start getting pulled away from whoever is training them because well, they're able to fight and that's the role of the Jedi right?

As I said - the Jedi were looking at issues before Order 66 just changed made all that irrelevant because the Order stopped being a thing.

So Japer Hzell is the Captain (and cook by virtue of knowing his way around the kitchen) of the Taurus. And he's had a few problems, and has exchanged some for others.

He is a former Separatist solider, and while officially the Empire has forgiven that and has let the former combatants be productive members of society. And some how the extra thick and exacting inspection regulations comes out for his ship specifically.

His ship is missing some important positions being filled. Like a doc.

His pilot has also been incredibly clear that someone is needed to actually run the navigation/communications when she's flying.

His engineer agrees and is threatening to sabotage Jasper's hot water supply if Jasper doesn't find someone besides said engineer to fill in that position.

The benefits of being captain included the ability to choose your own uniform, own hat and decide whether or not alcohol was allowed onboard. The downsides of being captain included speaking to the half insane long term mercenary that had been functionally hired on when your snake of a brother attempted to sell the entire crew out to pirates and the qualities of "not shooting at us" outweighed "sanity questionable".

Also the crew's weapon expert/feral cat was screwy for a few weeks before taking off.

Now the Empire's inspectors are incredibly frustrated and prone to lashing out because some Jedi escaped in the sector- which is bad for his pocketbook because even more fines and damaged merchandise. And for his stress because the weapon expert used the Jedi's escape to rescue a political prisoner. Very kind woman albeit foolish enough to get picked up at a cultural event of all things, who desperately needs medical care and time to heal. And needs to be hidden in the smuggler's hold whenever an inspector comes aboard.

Good news - they now have a doctor. Bad news - it turns out they've had a doctor for three years now. Their feral cat had been holding out on them.

One of the ways I know how to balance more… well, dark stuff is making sure to have a source of comedy that can be swapped to, or be able to approach the delicate topics in ways that are still… well, tough but able to be taken in chunks.

So the crew of the Taurus are unknowingly being mediators between Dark Fallen Apprentice and Jedi Master. Including highlights such as wanting to just lock the "Presumed Orphan found scuttling around a space port and mentor who somehow ended up as mentor" until the two admit that emotional adoption occurred but given that the two managed to break out of an Imperial site, even with a Jedi Master breakout as a distraction locking them anywhere just wouldn't work.

Now threatening to lock up the tea kettle might…

Oooh okay okay okay. This concept sounds even more fun the more you go into it

So I do ah, massage/tweak details sometimes for a smoother story. Sometimes it's updating a character to have a more distinct type that works better with what I need "Divine Dragon" -> Dragon of the Mountain Sky. And other times its like a Twilight Princess idea I have where multiple changes occur (Tossing of Ganandorf to keep Zant as the big bad for thematic reasons, switch out trapped as Wolf for trapped as shadow monster, keeping Twilight areas around longer, making the Resistance more important, Ilia gets upgraded to Quartermaster for the Resistance and is in charge of making sure there's lantern oil around despite the amount of people running in different directions...) I bring this up because I'm fairly sure I'm doing this to Dark Force User as a concept. So - uh... I primarily known the movies and the Clone Wars animation. So EU stuff is stuff I don't know and I work with it like how I see comic book adaptations. You bring in what works, try not to twist things into caricatures but you are not bound to keeping all everything. And when it comes to stuff beyond the movies the thing that has long drawn my attention is Knights of the Old Republic - specifically how the major thing that sets up the story to ever happen is that the hypocritical, prickly and arrogant Knight decided to save Revan on the grounds that everyone deserves a second chance. Which is something that comes in a lot with my ideas in general (though given that I have trouble getting things written I don't have much to point to) is that being good is not being perfect. Good is messy, mistakes and picking up when you fail. And so - yeah, I tend to go with Luke being in the right of it not being too late even for Vader. (While agreeing that Leia would have never forgiven him and would be perfectly justified for not doing so). Which all adds up to my approach with the Padawan/Dark Student. Okay so I came up with this idea in 2022 - so the whole thing with Barriss was unresolved and if I ever do work with this I'll probably just keep her and Luminara and declare an AU. (For how Barriss got away which would be used for if I switch to an OC - my explanation was kept on Coruscant and such was in vincinity of the Temple when Anakin happened. So major hit through the force of disaster - and with chaos/communication shut down during the massacre at the temple got out, faked death in chaos and ran). So - one of the things is to keep Barriss responsible for her own actions -that there's a reason she was jailed, and a reason she fell. Even if I change the feral cat to a different character - they are not supposed to be in the right. At the same time - well, a large point of the exercise is to actually interact with the issues of the Republic as opposed to it getting swallowed by the Empire being an issue. And in particular War Padawans for reasons of "Yeah - the Jedi were training combat/military operations with teenagers - and thus they ended up with teenagers who would use said training". And again Luke. So Dark Jedi in this case is A. War Trauma B. Subsuming emotion under rage and apathy because it hurts less. C. Prone to lashing out D. Arrogance for reasons of uh - being rather proven right in regards to there being issues with the order. E. Deep seated belief that things can't get better or improve Very much not entirely safe to be around. But not... someone that is an active threat either. Also very much leveraging in the fact that the Empire is a major threat - and using the Taurus crew as cover. "Part of crew for several years" is a lot less likely person to poke for being a secret Jedi and Jasper has his own reasons for keeping to areas with more loose Empire control. Meanwhile the relationship with the master.

The door hissed open, [Jedi] 's right knee buckling. The jedi rolled in mid air, twisting to protect herself from landing --

Landing in the arms of a furious medic. "You shall not stand again until I have stated you are well enough to do so."

[Jedi] froze, body going limp, allowing herself to be lifted and carried back into the bed. Clinical hands checking bandages.

"You failed at reopening anything." The unmistakable, absent, achingly familiar voice continued scathingly. Two hands gently adjusted the head covering to properly sit.

[Jedi] blinked, looking up, only a lifetime of control holding her emotions from broadcasting over the force as she reached out. Reached out to trace the training bond terminating in front of her.

"[Feral Cat]," [Jedi] forced out in a whisper, reaching a shaking hand to catch [Feral Cat]'s cloak.

A pair of Dark side yellow eyes mocked her memories, but the force didn't lie.

[Feral Cat] peeled [Jedi]'s hand away.

"I intend you no harm, Master Jedi." [Jedi]'s padawan stated.

So... A decent portion of this is the idea that making the padawan into a warrior was a large portion of why Feral Cat broke. Stepping into the role of healer again, of caring for someone is a first step, even if extremely tenuous, away from the abyss. It's still at the bottom of a dark pool. But it's progress. Honestly - the dynamic I have in my head is a case of [Feral Cat] feeling extremely betrayed by the war, abandoned and just hurt. Again - intended to be very wrong in many respects but my position is that the Clone Soldiers (being fast grown and without rights to boot) and non adult Padawans as not adults and without the ability of adults to leave shouldn't have been brought into the war zones. The betrayal + Dark Side stuff is poisoning the memory of dynamics before the war. And setting up a growing panic as [Jedi] recovers because this isn't a Vader versus Obi-wan situation from the Original Trilogy. [Jedi] is legitimately recovering and growing stronger - and experience is very much power for force users. Letting [Jedi] heal puts control/power dynamic more firmly in their hands - away from [Feral Cat]. What happens when the dynamic finally flips ? (Nothing obviously because I would not be able to write this as a tragedy but Feral Cat wouldn't know that.) It's... the betrayal happened in a hundred unnoticed ways during the war. And despite that Feral Cat goes for the desperation play because not willing to live forever with "What ifs" - but it is not a show of forgiveness nor trust. It's a show of not being able to live with not trying. Which in my head puts the balance of repay-al of that trust being on the mentor's head. Feral Cat is wrong in so many ways - but this is their part of the recovery as opposed to learning how they fucked up and painful character growth. So why does the Taurus crew not realize they have a Jedi on board? 1. Because they form their mental picture of their new navigator/comms operator before they see any depictions of said individual as a Jedi. So - when the break out first occurs - the Empire doesn't broadcast that it happened on all frequencies. The Taurus realizes that something is happening - but that's because they are having out of normal sequence of events inspection (which happened to occur before the Jedi being searched for arrived) and said inspectors being obvious about lashing out.

Samuel hummed, tapping away at his tablet. "What is your ship's current contents?"

"We are transporting purchased furs and other fabrics to Naos, unsold seeds to sell upon the way, some medical equipment, and an mind crushing amount of Valij wood that is the cause of why we have air scents at every doorway." Jasper listed immediately.

Samuel kept tapping away. "You do understand that I must inspect every compartment and singular crate you have, Captain."

Jasper reared back, pressing two hands to his chest. "Is the Inspector Paris in good health? The good man searched the entire ship from top to bottom when we left Abhean four days ago." "Abhean." Samuel repeated. Another tap to the tablet. "The Inspector is currently fine. Let us view your hold."

Jasper glanced the Imperial bootlicker from head to toe. The jackboots enjoyed pressing anyone with less power than them into the cratered ground. But no one enjoyed a manual search of every content of a freighter the size of the Taurus. Several hundred containers remained several hundred containers no matter how gleeful someone was to hold a blaster cannon to someone's skull. What was the man searching for?

"Of course Inspector, if you will follow me." -Scene Break- In true Imperial fashion the Taurus, and thus Jasper was slapped with several fines before the inspection was completed. Chipped outward facing paint upon the containers, a need for an additional layer of straps and restraints upon the the loaded containers despite the physical impossibility of passing the wide physical straps over the stacks of multiple containers when in a previous inspection the Empire had ruled that electronic worker walkers would be available only to operations one of the Empire's permits - limited to only 100,000 such permits in the entire Empire. And opened three containers of formerly laboratory grade sterile and uncontaminated bandages.

In contrast Jasper had a front row seat to watching Samuel begin to sweat while each individual crate or packaged opened revealed something other than what the man was searching for. Which Jasper still did not know. But the aftermath left him with a glorious show. To whoever was responsible for the sequence of events that lead to an Imperial Inspector to fear Jasper owed a great favor to. And they owed him 34,000 credits.

Samuel slammed down the final crate. Jasper winced as he heard the pottery bound for the city of Naik on Mygeeto crack. 34,850 credits owed after the discount for the shipment delay was applied. So when they first hear of actual details to the news ( I never quite figured out the how of the break out - but enabling a mass break out is on the list of possibilities and would work for hiding the truth. But the gist always comes down to that a Jedi broke out and that they used the distraction to get their once mentor out)- it's from their feral cat - while dragging in someone who is very quickly identified as essentially said cat's mom. And that is their introduction - a incredibly injured woman who needed more advanced medical care than could be done in a cramped one person ship. (Lower right jaw - oblique fracture with localized edema and contusion. Moderate muscle contusion also present. Three cracked molars. Skin level contusion around right and left eyes, no apparent damage to eyes themselves. Additional surface level contusions and edema upon right side of the face without further skeletal damage. Moderate sized baton, repeatedly swung at her face as well as hands. Molar damage and broken jaw consistent with right handed individual swinging horizontally at considerable speed. Head must have been unbound, no sign of spinal damage.) At her position beneath the dark surface waters of the Force [Feral Cat] wondered just how long she could keep the individual responsible screaming before their throat or heart gave out.

The above is a partial list - and hasn't actually made it to cataloguing anything below the neck. In particular my mind is really set on the mentor needing a wheel chair for mobility once recovered enough to move and will be in "regaining strength to walk" type of physical therapy/conditioning for a while. The Empire's story is that the Jedi broke themselves out. The woman the Taurus meets absolutely needed to be rescued and was indeed rescued. 2. Mentally they connected said Jedi with their feral cat. Who they've known for three years at this point, and view as incredibly prickly, antisocial, unstable somewhat erratic and also probably part fungus. They know [Feral Cat] - and very much see as someone with war trauma, claustrophobic though able to hide it somewhat with a very very bad startle reflex that is very reliable. Sudden Rooster analogy crowing - shoot. Surprise pirate - shoot. (They're all aware of it because they rather like not getting they eyebrows shot off and because they treat said individual as a barometer. If their fungus is dropping to the floor - you drop with. There's also a weapons locker specifically for Feral Cat onboard for safety reasons.) Which - again, I see the War Padawans as something that was a mess that was going to haunt the Jedi Order if Order 66 hadn't happened. The Fallen Apprentice is alive because of the reaction they have - but its not healthy. This all adds up together to someone that the crew just doesn't can't see as a Jedi of any sort. Which just rubs off on the rescuee. 3. Empire Propaganda Backfire There's an image that the Empire has of the Jedi (and remember Jasper was a Separtist. And as my original thoughts with the idea was Barriss and Luminara, Mirial (homeworld) is at least in Separtist territory so he's thinking they were on his side of the war at least at first) is very much twisted by propaganda. Monsters of the type that would use flame throwers in battle. (Which they did use in the Clone Wars Cartoon so I'm utterly okay with bringing it up). In particular the Jedi are blamed for the younglings/padawan massacre that Anakin did. And they're talking with an actual person, who honestly did get picked up at a Cultural event. (This is one of the reasons that Barriss and Luminara are likely to stay the Apprentice - Master pair because I can work with erasure of culture and the like by the Empire).

I think the thing about Barriss, though, is that both her at her best and her at her worst are defined by compassion and hatred for violence—like, yeah, she can be cowardly and selfish and very very very good at violence, and she will use the tools she has at hand, but I don’t see her ever sustaining a career as a mercenary. So it kinda works better to me that this would be an oc?

I love tackling the problems of the Republic and the Jedi in terms of who they used as soldiers during the war, especially of an attitude that while there were systemic failures that doesn’t mean the Jedi were like. Inherently evil

(Also to come back to Ahsoka again, being what I am: one might be able to tell I feel,,,, annoyed by the fact that she’s reclaimed the title of Jedi post-Empire in canon, since I thought having her as a non-Fallen Force user who also wasn’t one really represented the complexities of interacting with The Jedi Order as a body and arm of the state as compared to the Jedi, heroic monk dudes)

Definitely vibe with your takes on darksiders—lots of ways to Fall, perfectly possible to be Fallen and ultimately reach a point of stability while still being Bad Fucking News, absolutely easy to be driven by poorly handled war trauma

I love the concept of the power dynamic between the two of them, with Feral Cat having to worry about what their former master might do if they allow her to heal. That’s such a perfect way to deal with the Dark Side-cycle of fear and selfishness. (Also, like, the idea of the Jedi, who might not herself be a healer but did raise one, knowing exactly what’s going on if anything happens with her treatment and just letting it happen because she has faith in her Feral Cat.)

Definitely seeing the, like, Feral Cat coming down into the hold just to go on these weird rants about everything from before and how fucking awful the Jedi was, how much she failed them, and the Jedi kind of having to sit there quietly to digest all of it and be like. Ohhhh okay. So I Fucked Up. Most of that isn’t true but I definitely Fucked Up So Bad

And also Feral Cat being like “react!!!” and Jedi just being like. Well if I try to say anything you yell over me. And Feral Cat being like “I hate you and your smug condescension. Die!”

And, so, like, from their pov it’s impossible to tell that this is genuinely a heartbreaking and awful deal for their former master as she comes to terms with how badly she failed them, and when she starts apologizing—

[coughs] Anyway!

Definitely makes sense that all of the context they have for our Jedi keeps her from being someone they could possibly connect with the Jedi who broke out initially

And even later on if they see pictures of her from a decade or so before—and if she’s heavily injured, then we’re probably talking a lot skinnier, if nothing else. (And especially if we return to the idea of this being Luminara, and note that even without an intentional disguise, it’s entirely possible that the Jedi now might have a very different silhouette than the Jedi then—Luminara’s headdress, for example, would probably have been replaced with something much simpler.)

Okay so the "Mercenary" thing is very much the crew's understanding. The order of events in my head is that the Feral Cat (OC or Barriss) just ended up at the right place at the right time. Possibly Will of the Force related ala Rogue One view of the Force being unable to protect Rogue One as to Force being unable to protect the Jedi but being able to push things enough to save what could be. With what could be is one very hurt individual and also an assorted group of individuals who just got sold out by Jasper's brother to pirates. Feral Cat at that moment happened to need to get off world/moon/sattelite/random station due to Empire dodging so any ship leaving was a good ship. And just, took the opportunity to join the crew that would evac straight off the area as soon as they made it to port. Thing is Taurus is a freighter (possibly with limited armament for defense) . They aren't looking for trouble - Jasper wants to go on the shipping lanes, sell sterile bandages, finished goods and resources. The crew sees Feral Cat as a mercenary due to Feral Cat's skill set. Because War Padawan that survived the war needs to be extremely good at killing. Also the things like able to fly a fighter, sneak into places (if I work on this and move to an OC I am going to be keeping the fact that Barriss was able to sneak up on Ventress with a pipe because the sneaky bit isn't seen as a key part of her skill set and makes for great "And this is why you are creepy" characterization for the crew) and the general skill-set that were making the Jedi the special forces of the Republic's army. Taken away from the context of Jedi (due to Feral Cat having opinions) looks rather like a mercenary. Because the dynamic on the ship is less "We hire Feral Cat to kill things" - it's - "We bring Feral Cat around when we're okay with any potential problems being just killed because of that startle reflex, and if anything happens we let the competent at killing individual clear the path back to the ship." With a side of "Okay - we have pirates boarding us - and they've met with Feral Cat." For Feral Cat - it's not so much hiring out as a mercenary. It's that they are on a non-military ship that happens to be away from heavily secured Empire world and space for safety reasons. Which corresponds with the problems that congregate in such areas. And then proceeding to defend self - which has the corresponding effect of preventing the rest of the crew from dying. Admittedly I'm someone that plays with perspective reflexively. So to me there's a clear distinction.

Also I do need to comment that part of the healing process is also just the Taurus crew. As I said previously - Feral Cat stepping back into the role of healer I see as the first step of recovery. And is why it's important that they never said that they were a healer/doc/medic of any sort with the Taurus because interacting and helping people in that way would have led to their recovery being much farther along. People react to their environment. ... Okay non sequitur because I use analogies to anchor conversations because communication is hard. (And the fact that I use gestalts of information - which is probably a bastardization of the words usage since its related to Gestalt psychology principles but I have yet to find another word that encompasses “gestalt” stems from the idea of making meaning of patterns and perceiving information as a meaningful, organized whole. better. Teach me exactly one fact and I'm not going to get it well in context. It's like "You put bait on the hook." without the information of bait attracts fish, fish get trapped on hook, hook is attached to line, which is attached to a pull which is used to lever the fish out of the water once bit... There's a tipping point where the individual facts fit together and that unified concept is what my brain is able to spin around and poke. It however also means that my concept of "This is information that is needed for other people to follow" has a long LONG list of error messages.) So you know how before we had a short back and forth with Celine about how with injuries and the like the Honmoon possibly just gas lit people because even if they noticed that something was wrong she'd heal too quickly for them to get the mental tally up to "Okay I need to investigate" before the Honmoon finished the healing. Meanwhile if something was apparent and immediately seen - do not pass go, do not collect 200 dollars straight to the woo woo van and the ambulance with ye. I both have a faith in people in the sense of "If someone sees someone actively attacked and bleeding, someone's calling an ambulance." (See my inclusion in one of the Celine Kitsune AUs where her mother escaped by running into a crowd and thus not being able to be actively killed in the middle of a market by the hunters prior to the Sunlight Sisters) and a case of "Yeah people are very able to not notice stuff). Inquisitors - in the frame work of Post Prequels - Before Original Trilogy have presumably active monsters who just joined up because they liked what Palpatine was offering and the people they broke. Take one of the latter - manage to somehow not have them kill people in the immediate adjustment period - and put them in a normal location with normal people who aren't going to actively hurt them because they can... and they'll improve. Because people aren't always monsters, and the level of "This person needs help" is high enough that someone willing to help is going to notice - and if they personally can't it's high enough that they can point to someone that can who didn't make the perception roll and the other person will go "Oh, no. You're right". They won't get all the way better but they will improve. Admittedly I'm the exact sort of person that finds the Swedish Connection as one of my favorite WW2 movies. (Swedish diplomats/bureaucracy versus Nazi Germany saving people) As much as the story would be about the Padawan and Mentor reconnecting and just - dealing with the war what was said and not said. It's also the Taurus interacting with the two and being the normal people who weren't part of everything being biased in their own ways, with their own perceptions twisted by Empire propaganda (like thinking it was the Jedi who slaughtered the children) but also doing the quiet things like "You took a teenager into a war zone. What exactly did you expect to happen?"

Lastly - especially with an OC pair. How much the fear is unjustified or not as to "what happens when the recovery is done" I'm not sure of. Out of story Feral Cat is not going to get hurt for letting the power dynamic shift out of her favor. If it was ever a threat the Jedi Master's character development will be at the point it doesn't happen. The question is more whether the character development/"Jasper and Jedi master has some conversations that are not fun for either party" is needed and how much. The Jedi did indeed have structural issues - and Luke does indeed ignore Yoda as to his father. Dark Side -> Threat to be eradicated as opposed to be saved fits with the through line of what I recall of the Prequels especially in regards to the Jedi becoming warriors versus peace keepers.

Though one might also argue that it’s just supporting your stance that this is a case of the Jedi Institution (who need sithkillers) again being distinct from the Jedi People (who care too much to not try)

Interestingly, I think Luminara is an example of a Jedi who might experience some real conflict about that difference between what she thinks she’s supposed to do (take out the threat) versus what she really wants to do (save her former student), if her actions during the second battle of Geonosis are any indication (specifically Barriss getting presumed dead and Luminara just. Shutting down about that)

(Again, uh, while I accept and understand your clarification regarding perception vs reality, my read of Barriss as a character—which doesn’t have to be yours—is that this situation doesn’t quite make sense for her to end up in because of her relationship to violence, so I’m more citing Luminara here than going “this is how I think the situation might play out”. But if it helps you with the story as you want to write it, that’s cool!)

I think with the average Jedi, the fear would be entirely unjustified, especially since the worst Feral Cat is doing seems to be doing when something really triggers them isn’t, like, mass murder, so it’s pretty clear they haven’t gone full “I am a black hole” darksider

(Also in terms of tangents I need to get out parenthetically somewhere:

The sequels. Frustrate me for many, many reasons, not the least of which is how they decide to reset the OT to square one—ne’er-do-well Han, rebel leader Leia, fallen republic, no Jedi—instead of actually doing something interesting and new with the setting. I might have issues with the EU’s takes on what happened after ROTJ, but at least they said something did)

The crew’s perception of what’s up as, like, they slowly figure out that Jedi is Feral Cat’s mom-like person, and then figure out that Jedi is the reason Feral Cat is the way they are with respect to combat, and then figure out that they were in the middle of the fucking Clone Wars somehow would be very interesting, especially because all Jedi would be able to say about what she expected to happen would be that there wasn’t any other option. You don’t have a self, you give it up for the service of others. She wasn’t allowed to be so attached that she could decide to keep her child out of it

Yeah, I mean, I know there’s the “once you start down a dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny” of it all, but. Well. I think we see enough examples of Jedi whose response to darksiders is not that, before the fall of the Republic, to argue that it’s not exactly dogma

Though one might also argue that it’s just supporting your stance that this is a case of the Jedi Institution (who need sithkillers) again being distinct from the Jedi People (who care too much to not try)

Okay - so what timeline exactly are you thinking? Again - I am mostly going off show + and movies. For me I am thinking of the Jedi Order as from probably a generation or so prior to Anakin showing up to be told "He's too old" to Order 66. And I specifically focus on Anakin being "too old" because things probably would have gone even worse if Qui-Gon then Obi-Wan hadn't been able to get the Council to have him somewhat associated with the order. Because Palpatine would have swooped in immediately and then - well, Darth Vader as raised as Palpatine's apprentice. And the only big thing of dark side versus light side other than individuals going dark side and then removed from the story I can think of in Clone Wars is Ventress... Which had her be taught away from the Temple and more a repeat of Anakin in the sense of "Taken from a bad situation by a Jedi fulfilling what a Jedi should be - but without the institution behind them, leaving no safety net when the dangers of a Jedi's calling lead to one of their predictable ends".

So things/stories prior to that point I'd put under "There was a cultural shift/doctrine change". I do agree it's not inherent to the dogma - but well, schisms occur for a reason within religions. And the thing I mentally note with Star Wars Prequels is that to me there does appear to be a layer of... I won't say forced conformity. But there are characters that note that something is off, that something is changing. But they end up outside of the power structure due to their own failings (Barriss does call it that things have changed for the worse even while her actions are abhorrent, while Dooku in a deleted scene I believe is noted to have lost faith in the Republic) or due to outside events (Qui-Gon dying and Ahsoka leaving). Though I will admit that Anakin is an exception to this because if he had left the Order to be married to Padme she'd have been bringing him into her circle of associates and that would have brought in a second round of people to roll perception checks as to Anakin's dynamic with Palpatine. (But that's because Anakin's own choices are part of the tragedy structure separate from the Jedi Council) Which is structurally pivotal to the story because the Prequels is about how the Republic became the Empire - how a Democracy turned into a dictatorship (without outside intervention). The thing is that the end of the Republic wasn't inevitable - though it became final before Palpatine unleashed Order 66. So individuals noticing that something is wrong - even if they're not quite sure what is important as a tragic element of "This could have been prevented". Admittedly for me my way of seeing the Jedi Order's commitment to the Republic is that it's become incredibly reflexive.

It's how as you point out - that recognizing that a child Padawanis a kid who shouldn't be in combat and acting upon it to prevent an obvious issue becomes attachment and thus a bad thing. Admittedly I'm exactly the type of person who reads thinks like walkability and street design planning documents. Systems have a way of anonymizing and distancing responsibility. This is part of the reason why Jasper being around as a normal person to talk with Jedi is important because well, he's not emotionally involved in the way that Feral Cat is. Part of the reason I'm poking at Feral Cat being afraid of what happens when their master/former master recovers is that... well consequence being a thing. I am putting the fact that teenagers and child soldiers were occurring as a failing on the Jedi Order. And for all the ways that Feral Cat has made mistakes and done harm - being a child Padawan sent to the battlefield isn't their mistake. So it's not just that Feral Cat thinks that their master failed them - in the end I do think that their master did. In the way that someone goes "This is how the world works" and just continues on does. Nothing personal, nothing intentional. Like an engineer noticing that there is signs of degradation and wear on a damn. And also being someone with the training to know that increased rainfall makes it more likely for that damn to give way. But not saying anything when any requests for funds for maintenance or repair are ignored. If any were made at the time. As a work as a whole Star Wars very much believes in reaching that hand out, of taking that chance. (While also be willing to have say Chewbacca backing the person taking that chance so that if things go wrong they're not completely screwed) The Jedi Order during the Clone Wars? That is the question - Feral Cat needed help during the war and if their master followed protocol in that to try and spare harm would be to be attached... Feral Cat is Dark Side - and the protocol/understanding as they would know it from the war by all indicators I can think of is once you start down a dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny

And they also know that when push came to shove last time - that they didn't get help when they were drowning. Eh - it's balancing Jedi not being monsters even if they did have some bad ideas with the fact that hurt people can and do hurt people, and that someone doesn't need to be perfectly innocent to deserve help. After all - Feral Cat going "Okay I can't live with not trying" and going for the rescue is intended to be a step out of the dark. So trying to avoid the idea that the issue was Feral Cat being lashing out and the like during the war. They needed help before, they need help now. What's the difference - and I want there to be a difference besides just Feral Cat or "Feral Cat didn't ask for help last time so their master couldn't help"

Eh - there's not that much on the story bones. More an idea/feel. Though I can talk about any ideas I have for hours at the drop of a hat.

(So ask questions at your own peril)

So okay, I use Star Wars Prequels versus Star Wars Sequels as my go to for explaining the difference between expanding possibilities in a story universe and drastically curtailing them.

The thing with the Star Wars Prequels is that due to the Original Trilogy things in the Clone Wars don't matter long term in the official canon unless they are something that can survive through the Original Trilogy.

So honestly Ahsoka actually is a character that hypothetically fits the bill in the sense of - Teenager in the Clone Wars, went through the Empire, and isn't written as dead dead in the original trilogy so the story can hypothetically get around to just how things were complicated in the Clone Wars.

The reason I bring this all up is that - well, the time right before Order 66 is called the Twilight of the Jedi for a reason. There was issues. It's just that because the Original Trilogy funnels everything into a much more simplistic story so things like oh - the Jedi order presumably were in for a generational reckoning due to all the issues from the War has to be put on pause.

Very much NOT "The Jedi are the evil ones actually" - but more a case of "They were looking to be in a case of needing to do some house keeping, and quickly before they had rot creeping into things"

I focus a lot on the Padawans when I think about the Clone Wars because, just messing up with the next generation seems to be an ongoing issue when I look at the Prequel trilogy.

Obi-Wan -> Getting dropped by Qui-Gon because Qui-Gon wanted to train Anakin. Obi-Wan -> Then ending up having to mentor Anakin, so a guy in his mid 20s suddenly in charge of a very traumatized boy, who is alienated due to being unusually old for an order trainee and is also starting as being super behind because again unusually old. And given that Obi-Wan never talked with Qui-Gon's Master, not even for "How do I train an apprentice"… there's this layer of distance implied. I've taken to imagining Obi-Wan and maybe some good friends of his ending up just staring at their hands because trying to figure out how to train Anakin and get him up to par because Padawans tend to go with their master unless given a very good reason.

Jump ahead to the Clone Wars… and Ahsoka is sent to Anakin as a trainee as a lesson to him. (Yes out of universe there's other reasons but I'm focusing on the in-universe stuff) A teenager is being sent to an incredibly young Knight to teach him responsibility… but that includes sending a young teenager into a war zone.

Also again - Jedi Order having an incoming problem because to me it looks like they shredded their trainee pipeline in numbers and also were looking at essentially a cultural shift unless they kicked everything into high gear…

There's three main cohorts as I think about it.

You have older Padawans - who get promoted to Knight early on the basis of combat expertise, like Anakin.

Which A) Focused on the combat level, and the role change of the Order and B) Obi-Wan was a Padawan and had to be pushed as ready to take the trials by Qui-Gon despite being older than Anakin during the Clone Wars was.

You have the young Padawans that entered the age bracket during the Clone Wars - and presumably for obvious reasons the Temple were preparing them for combat versus all the other lessons and important things that were taught prior to the war.

You can't just flip a switch and change that training and socialization. Also just population number wise they are presumably being shredded because war but not as badly as the next group.

Who I call the War Padawans, which is Ahsoka and Bariss' cohort. The ones who became Padawans before the war, or near the start and so may have some experience before the Jedi turned to being warriors/generals/soldiers as their reason for being.

Bariss the writing shifted to have her age changed to be closer to Ahsoka's age but kept her as being at Geonosis I.

Which specifically showed a lot of Jedi die - and included teenagers. Because the Jedi didn't realize what they were going into, and it was a massacre.

And these are the people that would be just shredded as a cohort due to age, lack of experience and the fact that upon getting more experience - they start getting pulled away from whoever is training them because well, they're able to fight and that's the role of the Jedi right?

As I said - the Jedi were looking at issues before Order 66 just changed made all that irrelevant because the Order stopped being a thing.

So Japer Hzell is the Captain (and cook by virtue of knowing his way around the kitchen) of the Taurus. And he's had a few problems, and has exchanged some for others.

He is a former Separatist solider, and while officially the Empire has forgiven that and has let the former combatants be productive members of society. And some how the extra thick and exacting inspection regulations comes out for his ship specifically.

His ship is missing some important positions being filled. Like a doc.

His pilot has also been incredibly clear that someone is needed to actually run the navigation/communications when she's flying.

His engineer agrees and is threatening to sabotage Jasper's hot water supply if Jasper doesn't find someone besides said engineer to fill in that position.

The benefits of being captain included the ability to choose your own uniform, own hat and decide whether or not alcohol was allowed onboard. The downsides of being captain included speaking to the half insane long term mercenary that had been functionally hired on when your snake of a brother attempted to sell the entire crew out to pirates and the qualities of "not shooting at us" outweighed "sanity questionable".

Also the crew's weapon expert/feral cat was screwy for a few weeks before taking off.

Now the Empire's inspectors are incredibly frustrated and prone to lashing out because some Jedi escaped in the sector- which is bad for his pocketbook because even more fines and damaged merchandise. And for his stress because the weapon expert used the Jedi's escape to rescue a political prisoner. Very kind woman albeit foolish enough to get picked up at a cultural event of all things, who desperately needs medical care and time to heal. And needs to be hidden in the smuggler's hold whenever an inspector comes aboard.

Good news - they now have a doctor. Bad news - it turns out they've had a doctor for three years now. Their feral cat had been holding out on them.

One of the ways I know how to balance more… well, dark stuff is making sure to have a source of comedy that can be swapped to, or be able to approach the delicate topics in ways that are still… well, tough but able to be taken in chunks.

So the crew of the Taurus are unknowingly being mediators between Dark Fallen Apprentice and Jedi Master. Including highlights such as wanting to just lock the "Presumed Orphan found scuttling around a space port and mentor who somehow ended up as mentor" until the two admit that emotional adoption occurred but given that the two managed to break out of an Imperial site, even with a Jedi Master breakout as a distraction locking them anywhere just wouldn't work.

Now threatening to lock up the tea kettle might…

Oooh okay okay okay. This concept sounds even more fun the more you go into it

So I do ah, massage/tweak details sometimes for a smoother story. Sometimes it's updating a character to have a more distinct type that works better with what I need "Divine Dragon" -> Dragon of the Mountain Sky. And other times its like a Twilight Princess idea I have where multiple changes occur (Tossing of Ganandorf to keep Zant as the big bad for thematic reasons, switch out trapped as Wolf for trapped as shadow monster, keeping Twilight areas around longer, making the Resistance more important, Ilia gets upgraded to Quartermaster for the Resistance and is in charge of making sure there's lantern oil around despite the amount of people running in different directions...) I bring this up because I'm fairly sure I'm doing this to Dark Force User as a concept. So - uh... I primarily known the movies and the Clone Wars animation. So EU stuff is stuff I don't know and I work with it like how I see comic book adaptations. You bring in what works, try not to twist things into caricatures but you are not bound to keeping all everything. And when it comes to stuff beyond the movies the thing that has long drawn my attention is Knights of the Old Republic - specifically how the major thing that sets up the story to ever happen is that the hypocritical, prickly and arrogant Knight decided to save Revan on the grounds that everyone deserves a second chance. Which is something that comes in a lot with my ideas in general (though given that I have trouble getting things written I don't have much to point to) is that being good is not being perfect. Good is messy, mistakes and picking up when you fail. And so - yeah, I tend to go with Luke being in the right of it not being too late even for Vader. (While agreeing that Leia would have never forgiven him and would be perfectly justified for not doing so). Which all adds up to my approach with the Padawan/Dark Student. Okay so I came up with this idea in 2022 - so the whole thing with Barriss was unresolved and if I ever do work with this I'll probably just keep her and Luminara and declare an AU. (For how Barriss got away which would be used for if I switch to an OC - my explanation was kept on Coruscant and such was in vincinity of the Temple when Anakin happened. So major hit through the force of disaster - and with chaos/communication shut down during the massacre at the temple got out, faked death in chaos and ran). So - one of the things is to keep Barriss responsible for her own actions -that there's a reason she was jailed, and a reason she fell. Even if I change the feral cat to a different character - they are not supposed to be in the right. At the same time - well, a large point of the exercise is to actually interact with the issues of the Republic as opposed to it getting swallowed by the Empire being an issue. And in particular War Padawans for reasons of "Yeah - the Jedi were training combat/military operations with teenagers - and thus they ended up with teenagers who would use said training". And again Luke. So Dark Jedi in this case is A. War Trauma B. Subsuming emotion under rage and apathy because it hurts less. C. Prone to lashing out D. Arrogance for reasons of uh - being rather proven right in regards to there being issues with the order. E. Deep seated belief that things can't get better or improve Very much not entirely safe to be around. But not... someone that is an active threat either. Also very much leveraging in the fact that the Empire is a major threat - and using the Taurus crew as cover. "Part of crew for several years" is a lot less likely person to poke for being a secret Jedi and Jasper has his own reasons for keeping to areas with more loose Empire control. Meanwhile the relationship with the master.

The door hissed open, [Jedi] 's right knee buckling. The jedi rolled in mid air, twisting to protect herself from landing --

Landing in the arms of a furious medic. "You shall not stand again until I have stated you are well enough to do so."

[Jedi] froze, body going limp, allowing herself to be lifted and carried back into the bed. Clinical hands checking bandages.

"You failed at reopening anything." The unmistakable, absent, achingly familiar voice continued scathingly. Two hands gently adjusted the head covering to properly sit.

[Jedi] blinked, looking up, only a lifetime of control holding her emotions from broadcasting over the force as she reached out. Reached out to trace the training bond terminating in front of her.

"[Feral Cat]," [Jedi] forced out in a whisper, reaching a shaking hand to catch [Feral Cat]'s cloak.

A pair of Dark side yellow eyes mocked her memories, but the force didn't lie.

[Feral Cat] peeled [Jedi]'s hand away.

"I intend you no harm, Master Jedi." [Jedi]'s padawan stated.

So... A decent portion of this is the idea that making the padawan into a warrior was a large portion of why Feral Cat broke. Stepping into the role of healer again, of caring for someone is a first step, even if extremely tenuous, away from the abyss. It's still at the bottom of a dark pool. But it's progress. Honestly - the dynamic I have in my head is a case of [Feral Cat] feeling extremely betrayed by the war, abandoned and just hurt. Again - intended to be very wrong in many respects but my position is that the Clone Soldiers (being fast grown and without rights to boot) and non adult Padawans as not adults and without the ability of adults to leave shouldn't have been brought into the war zones. The betrayal + Dark Side stuff is poisoning the memory of dynamics before the war. And setting up a growing panic as [Jedi] recovers because this isn't a Vader versus Obi-wan situation from the Original Trilogy. [Jedi] is legitimately recovering and growing stronger - and experience is very much power for force users. Letting [Jedi] heal puts control/power dynamic more firmly in their hands - away from [Feral Cat]. What happens when the dynamic finally flips ? (Nothing obviously because I would not be able to write this as a tragedy but Feral Cat wouldn't know that.) It's... the betrayal happened in a hundred unnoticed ways during the war. And despite that Feral Cat goes for the desperation play because not willing to live forever with "What ifs" - but it is not a show of forgiveness nor trust. It's a show of not being able to live with not trying. Which in my head puts the balance of repay-al of that trust being on the mentor's head. Feral Cat is wrong in so many ways - but this is their part of the recovery as opposed to learning how they fucked up and painful character growth. So why does the Taurus crew not realize they have a Jedi on board? 1. Because they form their mental picture of their new navigator/comms operator before they see any depictions of said individual as a Jedi. So - when the break out first occurs - the Empire doesn't broadcast that it happened on all frequencies. The Taurus realizes that something is happening - but that's because they are having out of normal sequence of events inspection (which happened to occur before the Jedi being searched for arrived) and said inspectors being obvious about lashing out.

Samuel hummed, tapping away at his tablet. "What is your ship's current contents?"

"We are transporting purchased furs and other fabrics to Naos, unsold seeds to sell upon the way, some medical equipment, and an mind crushing amount of Valij wood that is the cause of why we have air scents at every doorway." Jasper listed immediately.

Samuel kept tapping away. "You do understand that I must inspect every compartment and singular crate you have, Captain."

Jasper reared back, pressing two hands to his chest. "Is the Inspector Paris in good health? The good man searched the entire ship from top to bottom when we left Abhean four days ago." "Abhean." Samuel repeated. Another tap to the tablet. "The Inspector is currently fine. Let us view your hold."

Jasper glanced the Imperial bootlicker from head to toe. The jackboots enjoyed pressing anyone with less power than them into the cratered ground. But no one enjoyed a manual search of every content of a freighter the size of the Taurus. Several hundred containers remained several hundred containers no matter how gleeful someone was to hold a blaster cannon to someone's skull. What was the man searching for?

"Of course Inspector, if you will follow me." -Scene Break- In true Imperial fashion the Taurus, and thus Jasper was slapped with several fines before the inspection was completed. Chipped outward facing paint upon the containers, a need for an additional layer of straps and restraints upon the the loaded containers despite the physical impossibility of passing the wide physical straps over the stacks of multiple containers when in a previous inspection the Empire had ruled that electronic worker walkers would be available only to operations one of the Empire's permits - limited to only 100,000 such permits in the entire Empire. And opened three containers of formerly laboratory grade sterile and uncontaminated bandages.

In contrast Jasper had a front row seat to watching Samuel begin to sweat while each individual crate or packaged opened revealed something other than what the man was searching for. Which Jasper still did not know. But the aftermath left him with a glorious show. To whoever was responsible for the sequence of events that lead to an Imperial Inspector to fear Jasper owed a great favor to. And they owed him 34,000 credits.

Samuel slammed down the final crate. Jasper winced as he heard the pottery bound for the city of Naik on Mygeeto crack. 34,850 credits owed after the discount for the shipment delay was applied. So when they first hear of actual details to the news ( I never quite figured out the how of the break out - but enabling a mass break out is on the list of possibilities and would work for hiding the truth. But the gist always comes down to that a Jedi broke out and that they used the distraction to get their once mentor out)- it's from their feral cat - while dragging in someone who is very quickly identified as essentially said cat's mom. And that is their introduction - a incredibly injured woman who needed more advanced medical care than could be done in a cramped one person ship. (Lower right jaw - oblique fracture with localized edema and contusion. Moderate muscle contusion also present. Three cracked molars. Skin level contusion around right and left eyes, no apparent damage to eyes themselves. Additional surface level contusions and edema upon right side of the face without further skeletal damage. Moderate sized baton, repeatedly swung at her face as well as hands. Molar damage and broken jaw consistent with right handed individual swinging horizontally at considerable speed. Head must have been unbound, no sign of spinal damage.) At her position beneath the dark surface waters of the Force [Feral Cat] wondered just how long she could keep the individual responsible screaming before their throat or heart gave out.

The above is a partial list - and hasn't actually made it to cataloguing anything below the neck. In particular my mind is really set on the mentor needing a wheel chair for mobility once recovered enough to move and will be in "regaining strength to walk" type of physical therapy/conditioning for a while. The Empire's story is that the Jedi broke themselves out. The woman the Taurus meets absolutely needed to be rescued and was indeed rescued. 2. Mentally they connected said Jedi with their feral cat. Who they've known for three years at this point, and view as incredibly prickly, antisocial, unstable somewhat erratic and also probably part fungus. They know [Feral Cat] - and very much see as someone with war trauma, claustrophobic though able to hide it somewhat with a very very bad startle reflex that is very reliable. Sudden Rooster analogy crowing - shoot. Surprise pirate - shoot. (They're all aware of it because they rather like not getting they eyebrows shot off and because they treat said individual as a barometer. If their fungus is dropping to the floor - you drop with. There's also a weapons locker specifically for Feral Cat onboard for safety reasons.) Which - again, I see the War Padawans as something that was a mess that was going to haunt the Jedi Order if Order 66 hadn't happened. The Fallen Apprentice is alive because of the reaction they have - but its not healthy. This all adds up together to someone that the crew just doesn't can't see as a Jedi of any sort. Which just rubs off on the rescuee. 3. Empire Propaganda Backfire There's an image that the Empire has of the Jedi (and remember Jasper was a Separtist. And as my original thoughts with the idea was Barriss and Luminara, Mirial (homeworld) is at least in Separtist territory so he's thinking they were on his side of the war at least at first) is very much twisted by propaganda. Monsters of the type that would use flame throwers in battle. (Which they did use in the Clone Wars Cartoon so I'm utterly okay with bringing it up). In particular the Jedi are blamed for the younglings/padawan massacre that Anakin did. And they're talking with an actual person, who honestly did get picked up at a Cultural event. (This is one of the reasons that Barriss and Luminara are likely to stay the Apprentice - Master pair because I can work with erasure of culture and the like by the Empire).

I think the thing about Barriss, though, is that both her at her best and her at her worst are defined by compassion and hatred for violence—like, yeah, she can be cowardly and selfish and very very very good at violence, and she will use the tools she has at hand, but I don’t see her ever sustaining a career as a mercenary. So it kinda works better to me that this would be an oc?

I love tackling the problems of the Republic and the Jedi in terms of who they used as soldiers during the war, especially of an attitude that while there were systemic failures that doesn’t mean the Jedi were like. Inherently evil

(Also to come back to Ahsoka again, being what I am: one might be able to tell I feel,,,, annoyed by the fact that she’s reclaimed the title of Jedi post-Empire in canon, since I thought having her as a non-Fallen Force user who also wasn’t one really represented the complexities of interacting with The Jedi Order as a body and arm of the state as compared to the Jedi, heroic monk dudes)

Definitely vibe with your takes on darksiders—lots of ways to Fall, perfectly possible to be Fallen and ultimately reach a point of stability while still being Bad Fucking News, absolutely easy to be driven by poorly handled war trauma

I love the concept of the power dynamic between the two of them, with Feral Cat having to worry about what their former master might do if they allow her to heal. That’s such a perfect way to deal with the Dark Side-cycle of fear and selfishness. (Also, like, the idea of the Jedi, who might not herself be a healer but did raise one, knowing exactly what’s going on if anything happens with her treatment and just letting it happen because she has faith in her Feral Cat.)

Definitely seeing the, like, Feral Cat coming down into the hold just to go on these weird rants about everything from before and how fucking awful the Jedi was, how much she failed them, and the Jedi kind of having to sit there quietly to digest all of it and be like. Ohhhh okay. So I Fucked Up. Most of that isn’t true but I definitely Fucked Up So Bad

And also Feral Cat being like “react!!!” and Jedi just being like. Well if I try to say anything you yell over me. And Feral Cat being like “I hate you and your smug condescension. Die!”

And, so, like, from their pov it’s impossible to tell that this is genuinely a heartbreaking and awful deal for their former master as she comes to terms with how badly she failed them, and when she starts apologizing—

[coughs] Anyway!

Definitely makes sense that all of the context they have for our Jedi keeps her from being someone they could possibly connect with the Jedi who broke out initially

And even later on if they see pictures of her from a decade or so before—and if she’s heavily injured, then we’re probably talking a lot skinnier, if nothing else. (And especially if we return to the idea of this being Luminara, and note that even without an intentional disguise, it’s entirely possible that the Jedi now might have a very different silhouette than the Jedi then—Luminara’s headdress, for example, would probably have been replaced with something much simpler.)

Okay so the "Mercenary" thing is very much the crew's understanding. The order of events in my head is that the Feral Cat (OC or Barriss) just ended up at the right place at the right time. Possibly Will of the Force related ala Rogue One view of the Force being unable to protect Rogue One as to Force being unable to protect the Jedi but being able to push things enough to save what could be. With what could be is one very hurt individual and also an assorted group of individuals who just got sold out by Jasper's brother to pirates. Feral Cat at that moment happened to need to get off world/moon/sattelite/random station due to Empire dodging so any ship leaving was a good ship. And just, took the opportunity to join the crew that would evac straight off the area as soon as they made it to port. Thing is Taurus is a freighter (possibly with limited armament for defense) . They aren't looking for trouble - Jasper wants to go on the shipping lanes, sell sterile bandages, finished goods and resources. The crew sees Feral Cat as a mercenary due to Feral Cat's skill set. Because War Padawan that survived the war needs to be extremely good at killing. Also the things like able to fly a fighter, sneak into places (if I work on this and move to an OC I am going to be keeping the fact that Barriss was able to sneak up on Ventress with a pipe because the sneaky bit isn't seen as a key part of her skill set and makes for great "And this is why you are creepy" characterization for the crew) and the general skill-set that were making the Jedi the special forces of the Republic's army. Taken away from the context of Jedi (due to Feral Cat having opinions) looks rather like a mercenary. Because the dynamic on the ship is less "We hire Feral Cat to kill things" - it's - "We bring Feral Cat around when we're okay with any potential problems being just killed because of that startle reflex, and if anything happens we let the competent at killing individual clear the path back to the ship." With a side of "Okay - we have pirates boarding us - and they've met with Feral Cat." For Feral Cat - it's not so much hiring out as a mercenary. It's that they are on a non-military ship that happens to be away from heavily secured Empire world and space for safety reasons. Which corresponds with the problems that congregate in such areas. And then proceeding to defend self - which has the corresponding effect of preventing the rest of the crew from dying. Admittedly I'm someone that plays with perspective reflexively. So to me there's a clear distinction.

Also I do need to comment that part of the healing process is also just the Taurus crew. As I said previously - Feral Cat stepping back into the role of healer I see as the first step of recovery. And is why it's important that they never said that they were a healer/doc/medic of any sort with the Taurus because interacting and helping people in that way would have led to their recovery being much farther along. People react to their environment. ... Okay non sequitur because I use analogies to anchor conversations because communication is hard. (And the fact that I use gestalts of information - which is probably a bastardization of the words usage since its related to Gestalt psychology principles but I have yet to find another word that encompasses “gestalt” stems from the idea of making meaning of patterns and perceiving information as a meaningful, organized whole. better. Teach me exactly one fact and I'm not going to get it well in context. It's like "You put bait on the hook." without the information of bait attracts fish, fish get trapped on hook, hook is attached to line, which is attached to a pull which is used to lever the fish out of the water once bit... There's a tipping point where the individual facts fit together and that unified concept is what my brain is able to spin around and poke. It however also means that my concept of "This is information that is needed for other people to follow" has a long LONG list of error messages.) So you know how before we had a short back and forth with Celine about how with injuries and the like the Honmoon possibly just gas lit people because even if they noticed that something was wrong she'd heal too quickly for them to get the mental tally up to "Okay I need to investigate" before the Honmoon finished the healing. Meanwhile if something was apparent and immediately seen - do not pass go, do not collect 200 dollars straight to the woo woo van and the ambulance with ye. I both have a faith in people in the sense of "If someone sees someone actively attacked and bleeding, someone's calling an ambulance." (See my inclusion in one of the Celine Kitsune AUs where her mother escaped by running into a crowd and thus not being able to be actively killed in the middle of a market by the hunters prior to the Sunlight Sisters) and a case of "Yeah people are very able to not notice stuff). Inquisitors - in the frame work of Post Prequels - Before Original Trilogy have presumably active monsters who just joined up because they liked what Palpatine was offering and the people they broke. Take one of the latter - manage to somehow not have them kill people in the immediate adjustment period - and put them in a normal location with normal people who aren't going to actively hurt them because they can... and they'll improve. Because people aren't always monsters, and the level of "This person needs help" is high enough that someone willing to help is going to notice - and if they personally can't it's high enough that they can point to someone that can who didn't make the perception roll and the other person will go "Oh, no. You're right". They won't get all the way better but they will improve. Admittedly I'm the exact sort of person that finds the Swedish Connection as one of my favorite WW2 movies. (Swedish diplomats/bureaucracy versus Nazi Germany saving people) As much as the story would be about the Padawan and Mentor reconnecting and just - dealing with the war what was said and not said. It's also the Taurus interacting with the two and being the normal people who weren't part of everything being biased in their own ways, with their own perceptions twisted by Empire propaganda (like thinking it was the Jedi who slaughtered the children) but also doing the quiet things like "You took a teenager into a war zone. What exactly did you expect to happen?"

Lastly - especially with an OC pair. How much the fear is unjustified or not as to "what happens when the recovery is done" I'm not sure of. Out of story Feral Cat is not going to get hurt for letting the power dynamic shift out of her favor. If it was ever a threat the Jedi Master's character development will be at the point it doesn't happen. The question is more whether the character development/"Jasper and Jedi master has some conversations that are not fun for either party" is needed and how much. The Jedi did indeed have structural issues - and Luke does indeed ignore Yoda as to his father. Dark Side -> Threat to be eradicated as opposed to be saved fits with the through line of what I recall of the Prequels especially in regards to the Jedi becoming warriors versus peace keepers.

Eh - there's not that much on the story bones. More an idea/feel. Though I can talk about any ideas I have for hours at the drop of a hat.

(So ask questions at your own peril)

So okay, I use Star Wars Prequels versus Star Wars Sequels as my go to for explaining the difference between expanding possibilities in a story universe and drastically curtailing them.

The thing with the Star Wars Prequels is that due to the Original Trilogy things in the Clone Wars don't matter long term in the official canon unless they are something that can survive through the Original Trilogy.

So honestly Ahsoka actually is a character that hypothetically fits the bill in the sense of - Teenager in the Clone Wars, went through the Empire, and isn't written as dead dead in the original trilogy so the story can hypothetically get around to just how things were complicated in the Clone Wars.

The reason I bring this all up is that - well, the time right before Order 66 is called the Twilight of the Jedi for a reason. There was issues. It's just that because the Original Trilogy funnels everything into a much more simplistic story so things like oh - the Jedi order presumably were in for a generational reckoning due to all the issues from the War has to be put on pause.

Very much NOT "The Jedi are the evil ones actually" - but more a case of "They were looking to be in a case of needing to do some house keeping, and quickly before they had rot creeping into things"

I focus a lot on the Padawans when I think about the Clone Wars because, just messing up with the next generation seems to be an ongoing issue when I look at the Prequel trilogy.

Obi-Wan -> Getting dropped by Qui-Gon because Qui-Gon wanted to train Anakin. Obi-Wan -> Then ending up having to mentor Anakin, so a guy in his mid 20s suddenly in charge of a very traumatized boy, who is alienated due to being unusually old for an order trainee and is also starting as being super behind because again unusually old. And given that Obi-Wan never talked with Qui-Gon's Master, not even for "How do I train an apprentice"… there's this layer of distance implied. I've taken to imagining Obi-Wan and maybe some good friends of his ending up just staring at their hands because trying to figure out how to train Anakin and get him up to par because Padawans tend to go with their master unless given a very good reason.

Jump ahead to the Clone Wars… and Ahsoka is sent to Anakin as a trainee as a lesson to him. (Yes out of universe there's other reasons but I'm focusing on the in-universe stuff) A teenager is being sent to an incredibly young Knight to teach him responsibility… but that includes sending a young teenager into a war zone.

Also again - Jedi Order having an incoming problem because to me it looks like they shredded their trainee pipeline in numbers and also were looking at essentially a cultural shift unless they kicked everything into high gear…

There's three main cohorts as I think about it.

You have older Padawans - who get promoted to Knight early on the basis of combat expertise, like Anakin.

Which A) Focused on the combat level, and the role change of the Order and B) Obi-Wan was a Padawan and had to be pushed as ready to take the trials by Qui-Gon despite being older than Anakin during the Clone Wars was.

You have the young Padawans that entered the age bracket during the Clone Wars - and presumably for obvious reasons the Temple were preparing them for combat versus all the other lessons and important things that were taught prior to the war.

You can't just flip a switch and change that training and socialization. Also just population number wise they are presumably being shredded because war but not as badly as the next group.

Who I call the War Padawans, which is Ahsoka and Bariss' cohort. The ones who became Padawans before the war, or near the start and so may have some experience before the Jedi turned to being warriors/generals/soldiers as their reason for being.

Bariss the writing shifted to have her age changed to be closer to Ahsoka's age but kept her as being at Geonosis I.

Which specifically showed a lot of Jedi die - and included teenagers. Because the Jedi didn't realize what they were going into, and it was a massacre.

And these are the people that would be just shredded as a cohort due to age, lack of experience and the fact that upon getting more experience - they start getting pulled away from whoever is training them because well, they're able to fight and that's the role of the Jedi right?

As I said - the Jedi were looking at issues before Order 66 just changed made all that irrelevant because the Order stopped being a thing.

So Japer Hzell is the Captain (and cook by virtue of knowing his way around the kitchen) of the Taurus. And he's had a few problems, and has exchanged some for others.

He is a former Separatist solider, and while officially the Empire has forgiven that and has let the former combatants be productive members of society. And some how the extra thick and exacting inspection regulations comes out for his ship specifically.

His ship is missing some important positions being filled. Like a doc.

His pilot has also been incredibly clear that someone is needed to actually run the navigation/communications when she's flying.

His engineer agrees and is threatening to sabotage Jasper's hot water supply if Jasper doesn't find someone besides said engineer to fill in that position.

The benefits of being captain included the ability to choose your own uniform, own hat and decide whether or not alcohol was allowed onboard. The downsides of being captain included speaking to the half insane long term mercenary that had been functionally hired on when your snake of a brother attempted to sell the entire crew out to pirates and the qualities of "not shooting at us" outweighed "sanity questionable".

Also the crew's weapon expert/feral cat was screwy for a few weeks before taking off.

Now the Empire's inspectors are incredibly frustrated and prone to lashing out because some Jedi escaped in the sector- which is bad for his pocketbook because even more fines and damaged merchandise. And for his stress because the weapon expert used the Jedi's escape to rescue a political prisoner. Very kind woman albeit foolish enough to get picked up at a cultural event of all things, who desperately needs medical care and time to heal. And needs to be hidden in the smuggler's hold whenever an inspector comes aboard.

Good news - they now have a doctor. Bad news - it turns out they've had a doctor for three years now. Their feral cat had been holding out on them.

One of the ways I know how to balance more… well, dark stuff is making sure to have a source of comedy that can be swapped to, or be able to approach the delicate topics in ways that are still… well, tough but able to be taken in chunks.

So the crew of the Taurus are unknowingly being mediators between Dark Fallen Apprentice and Jedi Master. Including highlights such as wanting to just lock the "Presumed Orphan found scuttling around a space port and mentor who somehow ended up as mentor" until the two admit that emotional adoption occurred but given that the two managed to break out of an Imperial site, even with a Jedi Master breakout as a distraction locking them anywhere just wouldn't work.

Now threatening to lock up the tea kettle might…

Oooh okay okay okay. This concept sounds even more fun the more you go into it

So I do ah, massage/tweak details sometimes for a smoother story. Sometimes it's updating a character to have a more distinct type that works better with what I need "Divine Dragon" -> Dragon of the Mountain Sky. And other times its like a Twilight Princess idea I have where multiple changes occur (Tossing of Ganandorf to keep Zant as the big bad for thematic reasons, switch out trapped as Wolf for trapped as shadow monster, keeping Twilight areas around longer, making the Resistance more important, Ilia gets upgraded to Quartermaster for the Resistance and is in charge of making sure there's lantern oil around despite the amount of people running in different directions...) I bring this up because I'm fairly sure I'm doing this to Dark Force User as a concept. So - uh... I primarily known the movies and the Clone Wars animation. So EU stuff is stuff I don't know and I work with it like how I see comic book adaptations. You bring in what works, try not to twist things into caricatures but you are not bound to keeping all everything. And when it comes to stuff beyond the movies the thing that has long drawn my attention is Knights of the Old Republic - specifically how the major thing that sets up the story to ever happen is that the hypocritical, prickly and arrogant Knight decided to save Revan on the grounds that everyone deserves a second chance. Which is something that comes in a lot with my ideas in general (though given that I have trouble getting things written I don't have much to point to) is that being good is not being perfect. Good is messy, mistakes and picking up when you fail. And so - yeah, I tend to go with Luke being in the right of it not being too late even for Vader. (While agreeing that Leia would have never forgiven him and would be perfectly justified for not doing so). Which all adds up to my approach with the Padawan/Dark Student. Okay so I came up with this idea in 2022 - so the whole thing with Barriss was unresolved and if I ever do work with this I'll probably just keep her and Luminara and declare an AU. (For how Barriss got away which would be used for if I switch to an OC - my explanation was kept on Coruscant and such was in vincinity of the Temple when Anakin happened. So major hit through the force of disaster - and with chaos/communication shut down during the massacre at the temple got out, faked death in chaos and ran). So - one of the things is to keep Barriss responsible for her own actions -that there's a reason she was jailed, and a reason she fell. Even if I change the feral cat to a different character - they are not supposed to be in the right. At the same time - well, a large point of the exercise is to actually interact with the issues of the Republic as opposed to it getting swallowed by the Empire being an issue. And in particular War Padawans for reasons of "Yeah - the Jedi were training combat/military operations with teenagers - and thus they ended up with teenagers who would use said training". And again Luke. So Dark Jedi in this case is A. War Trauma B. Subsuming emotion under rage and apathy because it hurts less. C. Prone to lashing out D. Arrogance for reasons of uh - being rather proven right in regards to there being issues with the order. E. Deep seated belief that things can't get better or improve Very much not entirely safe to be around. But not... someone that is an active threat either. Also very much leveraging in the fact that the Empire is a major threat - and using the Taurus crew as cover. "Part of crew for several years" is a lot less likely person to poke for being a secret Jedi and Jasper has his own reasons for keeping to areas with more loose Empire control. Meanwhile the relationship with the master.

The door hissed open, [Jedi] 's right knee buckling. The jedi rolled in mid air, twisting to protect herself from landing --

Landing in the arms of a furious medic. "You shall not stand again until I have stated you are well enough to do so."

[Jedi] froze, body going limp, allowing herself to be lifted and carried back into the bed. Clinical hands checking bandages.

"You failed at reopening anything." The unmistakable, absent, achingly familiar voice continued scathingly. Two hands gently adjusted the head covering to properly sit.

[Jedi] blinked, looking up, only a lifetime of control holding her emotions from broadcasting over the force as she reached out. Reached out to trace the training bond terminating in front of her.

"[Feral Cat]," [Jedi] forced out in a whisper, reaching a shaking hand to catch [Feral Cat]'s cloak.

A pair of Dark side yellow eyes mocked her memories, but the force didn't lie.

[Feral Cat] peeled [Jedi]'s hand away.

"I intend you no harm, Master Jedi." [Jedi]'s padawan stated.

So... A decent portion of this is the idea that making the padawan into a warrior was a large portion of why Feral Cat broke. Stepping into the role of healer again, of caring for someone is a first step, even if extremely tenuous, away from the abyss. It's still at the bottom of a dark pool. But it's progress. Honestly - the dynamic I have in my head is a case of [Feral Cat] feeling extremely betrayed by the war, abandoned and just hurt. Again - intended to be very wrong in many respects but my position is that the Clone Soldiers (being fast grown and without rights to boot) and non adult Padawans as not adults and without the ability of adults to leave shouldn't have been brought into the war zones. The betrayal + Dark Side stuff is poisoning the memory of dynamics before the war. And setting up a growing panic as [Jedi] recovers because this isn't a Vader versus Obi-wan situation from the Original Trilogy. [Jedi] is legitimately recovering and growing stronger - and experience is very much power for force users. Letting [Jedi] heal puts control/power dynamic more firmly in their hands - away from [Feral Cat]. What happens when the dynamic finally flips ? (Nothing obviously because I would not be able to write this as a tragedy but Feral Cat wouldn't know that.) It's... the betrayal happened in a hundred unnoticed ways during the war. And despite that Feral Cat goes for the desperation play because not willing to live forever with "What ifs" - but it is not a show of forgiveness nor trust. It's a show of not being able to live with not trying. Which in my head puts the balance of repay-al of that trust being on the mentor's head. Feral Cat is wrong in so many ways - but this is their part of the recovery as opposed to learning how they fucked up and painful character growth. So why does the Taurus crew not realize they have a Jedi on board? 1. Because they form their mental picture of their new navigator/comms operator before they see any depictions of said individual as a Jedi. So - when the break out first occurs - the Empire doesn't broadcast that it happened on all frequencies. The Taurus realizes that something is happening - but that's because they are having out of normal sequence of events inspection (which happened to occur before the Jedi being searched for arrived) and said inspectors being obvious about lashing out.

Samuel hummed, tapping away at his tablet. "What is your ship's current contents?"

"We are transporting purchased furs and other fabrics to Naos, unsold seeds to sell upon the way, some medical equipment, and an mind crushing amount of Valij wood that is the cause of why we have air scents at every doorway." Jasper listed immediately.

Samuel kept tapping away. "You do understand that I must inspect every compartment and singular crate you have, Captain."

Jasper reared back, pressing two hands to his chest. "Is the Inspector Paris in good health? The good man searched the entire ship from top to bottom when we left Abhean four days ago." "Abhean." Samuel repeated. Another tap to the tablet. "The Inspector is currently fine. Let us view your hold."

Jasper glanced the Imperial bootlicker from head to toe. The jackboots enjoyed pressing anyone with less power than them into the cratered ground. But no one enjoyed a manual search of every content of a freighter the size of the Taurus. Several hundred containers remained several hundred containers no matter how gleeful someone was to hold a blaster cannon to someone's skull. What was the man searching for?

"Of course Inspector, if you will follow me." -Scene Break- In true Imperial fashion the Taurus, and thus Jasper was slapped with several fines before the inspection was completed. Chipped outward facing paint upon the containers, a need for an additional layer of straps and restraints upon the the loaded containers despite the physical impossibility of passing the wide physical straps over the stacks of multiple containers when in a previous inspection the Empire had ruled that electronic worker walkers would be available only to operations one of the Empire's permits - limited to only 100,000 such permits in the entire Empire. And opened three containers of formerly laboratory grade sterile and uncontaminated bandages.

In contrast Jasper had a front row seat to watching Samuel begin to sweat while each individual crate or packaged opened revealed something other than what the man was searching for. Which Jasper still did not know. But the aftermath left him with a glorious show. To whoever was responsible for the sequence of events that lead to an Imperial Inspector to fear Jasper owed a great favor to. And they owed him 34,000 credits.

Samuel slammed down the final crate. Jasper winced as he heard the pottery bound for the city of Naik on Mygeeto crack. 34,850 credits owed after the discount for the shipment delay was applied. So when they first hear of actual details to the news ( I never quite figured out the how of the break out - but enabling a mass break out is on the list of possibilities and would work for hiding the truth. But the gist always comes down to that a Jedi broke out and that they used the distraction to get their once mentor out)- it's from their feral cat - while dragging in someone who is very quickly identified as essentially said cat's mom. And that is their introduction - a incredibly injured woman who needed more advanced medical care than could be done in a cramped one person ship. (Lower right jaw - oblique fracture with localized edema and contusion. Moderate muscle contusion also present. Three cracked molars. Skin level contusion around right and left eyes, no apparent damage to eyes themselves. Additional surface level contusions and edema upon right side of the face without further skeletal damage. Moderate sized baton, repeatedly swung at her face as well as hands. Molar damage and broken jaw consistent with right handed individual swinging horizontally at considerable speed. Head must have been unbound, no sign of spinal damage.) At her position beneath the dark surface waters of the Force [Feral Cat] wondered just how long she could keep the individual responsible screaming before their throat or heart gave out.

The above is a partial list - and hasn't actually made it to cataloguing anything below the neck. In particular my mind is really set on the mentor needing a wheel chair for mobility once recovered enough to move and will be in "regaining strength to walk" type of physical therapy/conditioning for a while. The Empire's story is that the Jedi broke themselves out. The woman the Taurus meets absolutely needed to be rescued and was indeed rescued. 2. Mentally they connected said Jedi with their feral cat. Who they've known for three years at this point, and view as incredibly prickly, antisocial, unstable somewhat erratic and also probably part fungus. They know [Feral Cat] - and very much see as someone with war trauma, claustrophobic though able to hide it somewhat with a very very bad startle reflex that is very reliable. Sudden Rooster analogy crowing - shoot. Surprise pirate - shoot. (They're all aware of it because they rather like not getting they eyebrows shot off and because they treat said individual as a barometer. If their fungus is dropping to the floor - you drop with. There's also a weapons locker specifically for Feral Cat onboard for safety reasons.) Which - again, I see the War Padawans as something that was a mess that was going to haunt the Jedi Order if Order 66 hadn't happened. The Fallen Apprentice is alive because of the reaction they have - but its not healthy. This all adds up together to someone that the crew just doesn't can't see as a Jedi of any sort. Which just rubs off on the rescuee. 3. Empire Propaganda Backfire There's an image that the Empire has of the Jedi (and remember Jasper was a Separtist. And as my original thoughts with the idea was Barriss and Luminara, Mirial (homeworld) is at least in Separtist territory so he's thinking they were on his side of the war at least at first) is very much twisted by propaganda. Monsters of the type that would use flame throwers in battle. (Which they did use in the Clone Wars Cartoon so I'm utterly okay with bringing it up). In particular the Jedi are blamed for the younglings/padawan massacre that Anakin did. And they're talking with an actual person, who honestly did get picked up at a Cultural event. (This is one of the reasons that Barriss and Luminara are likely to stay the Apprentice - Master pair because I can work with erasure of culture and the like by the Empire).

Thus far: college student Zoey got kidnapped by cultists and watched unwilling cult member Mira get beaten in her defense before they awakened not so ancient, not so evil Rumi. While the three made it out that night, Mira was abducted by her brother when Zoey and Rumi briefly left her alone, leading to Gwi-Ma being summoned and taking Rumi into his realm. Mira and Zoey have recruited shaman Celine to help them fix the situation.

So far: college student Zoey got kidnapped by cultists and watched unwilling cult member Mira get beaten in her defense before they awakened not so ancient, not so evil Rumi. While the three made it out and to the hospital that night, Mira was taken back by her family when Zoey and Rumi briefly left her alone. Now, though, Rumi seems to have found a trail…

Mira swings her bare heel, tries to kick his fucking skull in. He catches her leg easily with a laugh and ties it down too.

“What? You don’t think she’d have been more bearable with a broken jaw, Mimi?”

How could she have ever doubted whether or not she wants him dead? It feels like this is punishment for her private hesitation.

Her brother leans closer, and there’s nothing at all she can do to take advantage of that. He forces a loop in her restraints and hooks them above her head. “Say, ‘go fuck yourself, asshole’ if you don’t agree,” he tells her sweetly.

She tries. She really does. If ever there was a time she would truly give anything, anything to tell her brother to go fuck himself, it’s now.

She gets nothing but a dizzying surge of pain and more hot, humiliating tears she can’t even wipe away for her trouble.

“Aw, I knew you’d agree. Look at us. The picture of filial harmony. Dad would’ve been proud.” The bastard reaches out to wipe the tears for her, and she can’t even bite his fucking hand.

He’s still monologuing as he walks away. Misogynistic fucking hypocrite. “He made a lot of mistakes, our dear old dad. Imagine trying to release an ancient evil and getting a legendary hero instead. Em-barrassing!”

Mira spares a brief moment imagining Rumi’s face at being called a legendary hero. Motherfucker. She’d have loved to see that.

“No worries, I’ve got a better idea for round two. Not such a useless humanities degree now, is it?”

She cannot believe she’s going to die at the hands of this fucking loser. That degree was bought with Daddy’s fucking money.

“Now this guy, he’s the real deal. Apparently he’s the one that little stripey girly of yours had beef with way back when. King of Demons, All Consuming Flame Made Manifest, all kinds of fun nicknames like that.”

He crouches down to smooth out the uneven edges of one of the intricate lines he’d drawn all around the ancient fireplace, and steps back.

Of course, the part where that reveals Mira tied up in the living room with one of the cult creeps standing over her and some unpleasantly glowing writing on the floor kind of puts a damper on that vibe.

Mira thrashes at the sight of them, trying and failing to say something, while cult boy freezes for a moment and then starts reading faster, flicking the lighter in his hand with more urgency. Zoey, like a sensible civilian, hops herself down to let Rumi do her thing.

Rumi, unlike a sensible hero, stands there and growls. “Stop this. Now. You will have no other warnings.”

Cult boy doesn’t stop shit. He doesn’t even break his ritual reading to reply, his words coming faster: “All Consuming Flame Made Manifest, Gwi-Ma, Creator of Shadow, I give an offering unto ye.”

Which is when Rumi finally, finally strides across the room and hits him in the face.

His head snaps back with a sickening crack.

But the sick purple glow rising from the runes in the floor doesn’t fade. And his voice doesn’t stop. It—it doesn’t even sound like he’s reading anymore. It’s something else. “Come into this world, Father of Ten Thousand Shames, a doorway is made.”

Rumi hits him again. Mira makes a sick sound at the sight of the mass of bloody flesh formerly known as cult boy’s face. Zoey scrambles for something, anyway to do so that she doesn’t look.

She stumbles across the floor and to her knees, scrubbing at the binding. Nothing happens.

Cult boy flicks the lighter. It finally catches.

Rumi snarls, “Your evil will not return to this realm.”

And Zoey spits on the floor and scrubs some more and—

Magenta flares through her vision like a fucking flashbang. She thinks she hears someone screaming.

She thinks maybe it’s her.

Because the bang part? The bang is every wretched little insecurity she’s ever had punching her in the throat, clawing at her chest, clawing awful grooves on the shape of her mind. Too much not enough freak nobody has ever wanted you once they’ve seen what you’re really like.

And then silence.

Zoey blinks down at the mussed chalk beneath her hands, waiting for the spots to fade. Waiting for the feeling of slime clinging to her back teeth to fade.

Rumi touches her restraints, and Mira flinches.

She immediately wants to apologize. But Rumi beats her to it.

“A thousand apologies, my lady, but this must be done,” Rumi says as she releases Mira from her bonds, eyes downcast. “I truly regret causing you pain.”

But she didn’t, of course, it was only her stupid fucking brother, who just had to—to live up to their father’s expectations, to leave her alone in her room night after night, to go and fucking die.

She grips her numb and aching wrists, and Rumi’s strong hands cover hers. She lets herself lean into the touch.

A deep, booming laughter fills the room, fills her chest, fills her head. “Did you think it enough, to silence my summoner? He was but a vessel.” 

Rumi seizes like she’s been shocked. Mira can see her muscles straining. But her grip is still gentle.

“I thank you for releasing my welcome gift,” says the reverberating voice. “I do prefer them to come willingly. And I see you’ve brought another.”

Rumi takes an audible, trembling breath in front of her. It’s disconcerting, seeing her so shaken.

And the thought strikes her, pervasive, overwhelming, debilitatingly familiar: Look how useless you are. An eternal liability. You are just like your family. Did you think you were better? You’re worse. They had each other, and you have no one. What are you even living for? 

“No,” Rumi is telling her firmly. Mira can see that she’s gripping her arms, but she can’t quite feel it. It seems removed, irrelevant. What does it matter? “It is not true,” Rumi says. “Whatever you are hearing. Whatever you are feeling. Know yourself, as I know you.”

What about her is worthy of being known? Nothing, nothing.

Isn’t it?

“You are valued. You are cared for. I care for you.” Something, something is happening around them. Noises, motion, impact. “Hrrgh!” Rumi growls. “I wish I had more time. Please, know!” And the distant warmth of Rumi’s touch leaves her.

Know… She knows enough. She knows her family had been hurting people, she’s always known. She did nothing, because she is nothing. She should join them in nothingness. But then—

A sob.

Rumi is gone.

She hopes.

And then it’s back into the city—this time, at least, by car.

Zoey drives, judiciously ignoring the speed limit in favor of finding Rumi. She’s not sure she really should be, but Mira gave her the keys with an expectant look and she already—fuck, she already lost Rumi after letting her physically carry her. She’s not making Mira drive, no matter how much her feet hurt or the fact that she hasn’t taken her meds today or what.

(Wouldn’t it be kinder to everyone if you just stopped? Stopped overwhelming them, stopped failing them, stopped being such a problem?)

(Zoey tries her best to ignore the voice, still stuck in the back of her head.)

“I only know the one shaman,” she says. “And, I mean, she just, like… did a reading for me and some classmates one time and scared the shit out of us. I dunno if this is really gonna be any help.”

Mira scowls at her, and reaches across the gear shift to squeeze Zoey’s hand.

“Sorry,” Zoey says, the fingers of her free hand tapping at the wheel. “I—I shouldn’t be talking like this, I mean, pity party, table for one! You’ve had a much shittier twenty-four hours.”

Mira huffs, like Zoey isn’t getting it.

Zoey winces. She never does, does she? “Sorry! I’m sure you don’t want to talk about it, I just kinda start rambling and never know when to shut my mouth, and, well, you can’t really do it for me so it’s gonna be a real problem today I think.”

Mira groans this time, because Zoey’s still on the wrong track.

(Wouldn’t it be easier?)

Grumpily, she retrieves her phone and starts tapping away at it. After a minute or so, the flat, computerized voice of text-to-speech says, “You need to be nicer to yourself. This isn’t a competition.”

…And Zoey’s such a mess that now Mira’s comforting her. Great.

“Yeah,” she says. “Sorry.”

Then she starts studying the GPS so she won’t say anything stupider.

There aren’t any parking spots open near the shaman’s place, so Zoey uses all of the skill taught to her in both Burbank and Seoul and stops the car right under the No Parking sign, throwing on the hazards.

Who cares if they tow it? It’s not her car, and she’s got places to be.

“Welcome to Sunlight,” Zoey says, and turns off the car.

Also, the shaman has an administrative assistant, which Mira also hadn’t been expecting.

“Pretty pretty please,” Zoey is begging said assistant. “It’s a real supernatural emergency, I’m so serious about this. Like, she is gonna regret missing out on this… opportunity.”

“Mudang-nim has requested not to be disturbed this evening,” the assistant insists politely.

Zoey makes a face that could fell the greatest warrior. Mira knows from personal experience. “Could you maybe just tell her it’s Zoey? From class 3-C? And you could tell her she was right? Bosses love hearing that, right?”

The assistant clearly is not completely unaffected—he is just human, after all—but he seems to be holding strong. He’s just starting to give another probable polite refusal when the shaman’s door swings open.

“Zoey? I thought I’d heard your voice. Please, come in.”

Despite her earlier pleas, Zoey seems a little shocked to be so easily remembered. She shoots Mira a slack jawed look, to which Mira offers only a raised eyebrow and a subtle ‘get it together’ shoulder roll. Zoey nods. They follow the shaman inside.

The shaman is as surprisingly tasteful as her office, in an understated but well-tailored suit that flatters her silhouette. Somewhat disappointingly, her personal office has no ugly carpets either.

“Please, sit,” she says in her calm yet musical voice. “How may I help you?”

This is the lady who scared baby high school Zoey?

But Zoey does seem quite nervous. “Okay, so, remember how you’d told me back then that I’d find myself in a situation I can’t escape on my own, and the fate of many things you refused to elaborate on depended on the outcome? Well, you were right, I was kidnapped, by a cult, who tried to awaken some ancient evil, I guess, but they accidentally busted out an ancient hero instead, and she was super nice, but a bit confused and maybe lonely, and she saved us, but then the cultists kidnapped Mira—hi, this is Mira, she can’t speak right now—and they tried to release the ancient evil anyway, and the hero tried to fight it, or it attacked her or something—it was kind of confusing, and I was, uh—preoccupied—but Rumi defeated it, I think, and then she—disappeared.” Zoey takes a deep breath.

Celine circles around her desk to open—oh, okay, she’s opening the fucking safe.

She removes a lacquered wooden box, and from the box a scroll. It unrolls across her desk into a beautiful ink wash portrait of… Rumi.

Mira hiccups over a gasp, and Zoey clutches her arm tightly in solidarity, staring. There she is with her long purple braid, bright golden eyes staring back at them, a sword leveled at an invisible enemy.

(Though, she notes, none of the tattoos that wove all across her skin.)

“Yeah,” Zoey croaks, feeling something unwind out of her, a thread searching and not finding Rumi, real Rumi, there to catch the other end. “Yeah, her.”

It was really stupid of her to expect the terrifying shaman would be any less terrifying on second go-round.

“Sit,” Celine says again, this time a command. “Why is Mira unable to speak right now, a binding?”

“Oh, no, uh, well—“

As Zoey stumbles to try to get it out, Mira simply resorts to baring her teeth, showing the wires.

“Ah.” Celine’s lips thin and she nods in understanding. “That, I cannot help with. From the beginning then, every detail. Mira, write down anything you think might be relevant.”

“Sorry,” Zoey says, unable to just listen, always unable to just get something done when her brain’s flying off somewhere. She gestures helplessly at the scroll on the desk. “I just—why? Why do have… How do you know… Rumi?”

But Mira huffs in agreement, and Celine doesn’t seem to mind having a useless idiot on her hands.

She softens a little, looking down at the scroll. “I became a mudang when I was seventeen years old. I’m seseummu, just Ike my teacher was, and her teacher before her—I’m sure there have been kangshinmu somewhere in the mix, but our lineage has largely been taught to those who were chosen and trusted, not those who earned it by inheritance.”

(Zoey thinks that seventeen sounds very young, all things considered. She manages to keep her mouth shut.)

“It is an order of sorts, a sacred oath which each teaches to the next generation.” She gestures to Rumi. “To watch for her. To care for her home. To do as she would have done, and care for those around us who did not have power, fighting off the dark and flame.”

Zoey looks at Mira and finds her looking back with the smallest of smiles, clearly knowing that Rumi would go bright red and stutter out something about how she “merely had a duty” if she got the chance to hear Celine’s speech, their ridiculous hero.

“Yeah,” she says. “Sounds like Rumi.”

“Tell me about her?” Celine asks, and this time it is softer, gentler, almost searching. How couldn’t it be, when she’s devoted her whole life to this?

Anyway, Mira's not surprised she's the sort to not leave any details out, even though Bobby and Ji-Hoon being in the entertainment industry and the name of the nurse who attended her have no bearing on what brought them to Celine's office.

But Celine doesn't mind, just sits there at her desk, hands resting on her knee, and nodding along; every now and then her lips quirk in something like a smile when she mentions that Rumi liked (no, 'likes,' she's not dead, Mira refuses to accept that) apple juice and was 'weird about seams.'

It's...nice, the way she listens. Mira's parents weren't ever like that, and from what Zoey said in the car and the way she spends the first few minutes of her telling pausing and glancing at Celine like she expects to be told to hurry up and get to the point, she has a hunch hers weren't either.

(Why would anyone have wanted to listen to you? What would you have said of consequence? You never were good enough for them anyway)

She focuses harder on Zoey.

"And he'd drawn all these marks on the floor," Zoey continues, having reached Mira's recently-trashed parlor, "just like the ones in the cave- whoops, forgot to mention those earlier, in my defense I was coming off some pretty heavy stuff and-"

"What sort of marks?" Celine sits straighter in her chair the placid demeanor sharpening as she narrows her eyes.

"Um, like...not really hangul, but something like..." Zoey waves her hands around and Mira shoves the notepad and pen Celine had given her in them. Lightning fast, Zoey whips out a sketch of a handful of the marks Mira remembered her parents drawing on the cavern floor. She's good; Mira knows she couldn't have done half as good a likeness.

She turns the notepad towards Celine. "This?"

Celine leans over her desk to get a closer look, then stands abruptly. "And I presume he recited an incantation?"

"Yeah!" Zoey nods at a speed that has Mira's neck twinging. "And then there was this light- legit thought I was getting flashbanged- and-"

"You heard a voice."

It's not a question. Mira stiffens. Next to her, Zoey freezes. That seems to be all the confirmation Celine needs of...something.

She produces a key from the air and slots it in to a drawer in her desk, pulling out an oilskin pouch that looks horribly out of place in the sleek, modern office. She undoes the leather thong tying it shut and opens it; Mira can't describe it, but it seems like the room grows darker even as the sunlight continues to filter through the blinds.

"That was Gwi-Ma," she says, pulling a piece of vellum from the little pouch.

Recognition clicks in Mira's mind and she grabs back the notepad. My brother mentioned some fire-lord Gwi-Ma. He was trying to summon him.

Rumi recites her improvised mantra as insistently as she can, like it might build a wall around her. As if by acknowledging the fact, she can keep it from impacting her.

Gwi-Ma’s realm is a thoroughly unpleasant place.

Jinu snickers at her. “Shit, Rumi, I thought you were smarter than that.”

Gwi-Ma’s realm is a thoroughly unpleasant place.

(She knows it isn’t him. That this is merely an illusion, using his face and whatever remnants of the soul Gwi-Ma has long since consumed that the demon can still draw upon. She has seen enough wraiths to know it isn’t him.)

Gwi-Ma’s realm is a thoroughly unpleasant place.

“Well, not smarter, but at least more creative. Where’s that famous poetry, huh?” he asks.

Gwi-Ma’s realm is a thoroughly unpleasant place.

Fingers draw up, up, up—and claws slice their way down.

Gwi-Ma’s realm is a thoroughly unpleasant place. Gwi-Ma’s realm is a thoroughly unpleasant place. Gwi-Ma’s realm is a thoroughly unpleasant place.

“My dear friend drips her life out in moments,” Jinu says.

Gwi-Ma’s realm is a thoroughly unpleasant place.

“—I sing for—“

Gwi-Ma’s realm is a thoroughly unpleasant place.

“—and she sings back, nonetheless.”

Gwi-Ma’s realm is a thoroughly unpleasant place.

(The problem, now, is that he sounds like Jinu. Not like any of the people who have spoken to her since the binding was broken. He sounds like Jinu, her beloved friend.)

“I know you have heard me,” he says, teasingly. Affectionately.

Gwi-Ma’s realm is a thoroughly unpleasant place.

“Rumi,” he sighs. “All I ask… Is it so much that you would sing with me once more?”

Gwi-Ma’s realm is—

Rumi screams.

She needs to make sure the cult is fully exterminated and no longer able to kidnap innocent young scholars like Zoey. She needs to make sure Mira has someone to guard her until her jaw is whole.

She needs to make sure they don't fall to Gwi-Ma like JInu had.

"You know, I gotta say those bindings? It's a good look on you."

Rumi sets her jaw as she continues marching through the thoroughly unpleasant place, keeping her eyes trained straight ahead instead of drifting towards the illusion of Jinu drifting beside her.

Gwi-Ma is baiting her. He wants her to speak to the wraith, engage with it, let it get in her head and worm its way down to her soul so despair can take root.

So she doesn't. Even though it's...hard.

"They really scream 'I'm a failure,' but in an eloquent way. "

He always knew how to raise her up, but also bristle her hackles.

The illusion of Jinu swoops to pluck a withered dandelion from the ground, stem turning black and brittle at his touch; he watches it crumble to ash and drift away on an invisible wind. "Too bad your little friends up there had to see them. Can't imagine what they thought."

Rumi tastes blood as she bites the inside of her cheek hard. She has to stay silent; she has to ignore; she has to get back to Mira and Zoey.

She cannot fail them, too. Unless...she already has.

What if Gw-Ma is already in their ears, sinking the viper's fangs into their souls?

She marches faster.

Not-Jinu lists his brows and she mentally curses Gwi-Ma for having infused this wraith with Jinu's knowledge of her tells. "You didn't tell them?"

Rumi tenses her neck before she can shake her head in reply. She glances upward, scanning the void serving as a sky for- she's not sure, a way out? A distraction? The stars?

"Why not?"

March march march; Gwi-Ma's realm is a thoroughly unpleasant place.

"Ah...I see."

She misses the stars...she's just gotten here and she already misses the stars.

Jinu's breath is merciless winter in her ear. "You're ashamed."

It’s… bad. The body formerly known as Mira’s brother has started to smell. It makes her feel disgusting to hide out in the hall.

(Didn’t you always hate the way he wouldn’t look when you were hurting?)

She just stands there. She wants to puke, but she can’t puke, or she’ll choke on it, which is why you’re supposed to carry wire cutters, she’s pretty sure, but she doesn’t even know because her fucking brother kidnapped her from the hospital before she could get any care instructions.

Her brother. Who is dead. Who will never do anything like that again. Who will never do anything again.

Like her father. Who is dead. Like probably most of everyone she knows.

Fuck, Mira’s face hurts. The ice and ibuprofen barely did anything and they’re already starting to wear off.

She doesn’t know how long she stands there, face hurting, feeling something that isn’t grief so much as—absence, of all these awful people who she has known her entire life. It doesn’t hurt, or at least she doesn’t want it to. But her face does.

Eventually, the shaman shows up, and looks at her with something oddly gentle in her face, makes Mira want to scream at her, and walks her to the kitchen.

Zoey is making smoothies. So Mira can—

(You don’t deserve this. You don’t deserve any of it.)

Mira doesn’t say no, even if she can’t force it down. She takes the ice cold glass in both hands and holds it as they walk back out, Zoey’s apology for not being able to find her a sillier straw landing like a rock in her gut.

She tries to smile. It’s okay. Her face hurts.

She sits shotgun, even though the shaman is even taller than her. She holds the glass in both hands.

When was the last time she ate?

“It appears,” the shaman explains, leaning forward between the seats, “that Gwi-Ma has taken Rumi to his realm and retreated after her—likely wanting to make certain that she will not be able to rally a resistance against him a second time.”

There’s a certain way she says ‘Rumi’. It fits careful in her mouth, a holy unfamiliarity. Mira wants to tell her about how Rumi smiles, goofy and too wide on her mouth. She wants to tell her how Rumi looks at people, like they matter immeasurably.

“So how do we get her back?” Zoey asks.

Mira’s fingers twitch against the glass. That’s an assumption, isn’t it?

“We would have to find a way to bring her to the gate,” the shaman says, slowly. “An anchor of some kind—something for her soul to want to hold onto.”

Mira can’t help herself this time. She looks, sick-feeling, back at the house. At the room her brother is a pulverized and stinking corpse in.

“No!” the shaman says hurriedly. “Mira, the gate isn’t physically tied to one place. I only needed to see the markings. What we’ll do to close it won’t be there.”

The relief is shameful. She bobs her head in thanks and can’t look anyone in the eyes.

What would it have mattered if it were? Would she have really let her family keep hurting people, even now that they were dead and she didn’t have a single excuse left?

“So, the way you’re talking, I’m guessing you know how to do the gate thing but—“ Zoey pauses, not judgmental, just hesitant as she gestures between herself and Mira. “—we have to figure out how to get Rumi there?”

No—Gwi-Ma’s realm is a thoroughly unpleasant place.

A miscalculation. Claws rake across her back again.

This is the paradox of this place: the more present she is, the truer she will make it, and the harder it will be to escape. But if she does not—if she allows this shadow of her dearest friend to kill her—she will remain here nonetheless.

“Finally getting it, are you?” says Jinu, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “You were always a little—”

Rumi slams into him, ramming her shoulder into his abdomen. She grabs his arm and hip into the motion and throws him over her back. He lands on the hard-packed earth with a thump. “Slow?” she finishes for him.

Jinu’s eyes flash. He sweeps a leg, but she’s wise to his tricks. She jumps over it, landing directly into a spin kick. It catches the side of his head, and he’s down again. She grabs him by his shirt—embroidered by his own hand—and slams him into the ground. Again. Again.

The air is dry. She feels it scrape her throat as she breathes. She feels the cracks in the ground through the flimsy material covering her knees. A drop of blood is traveling an unpleasant path down her arm and to the crease of her elbow. The body beneath her hands yields easily to the violence of her will, as they always do.

Jinu-not-Jinu stares up at her, silent, wheezing. He does not ask her to sing. He does not belittle her technique. He does not grin and cackle. He is no longer her beloved friend, but only a vanquished foe, and it feels good. It feels right. She feels powerful, as is her birthright.

No, no, no—Gwi-Ma’s realm is an unpleasant—Gwi-Ma’s realm is thoroughly—Gwi-Ma—

She lets go of the embroidered shirt and stumbles back, scrabbling across the dry, dusty ground.

Mira groans. A moment later, she offers out her phone for Celine to read, “If we survive this, I’m becoming a vegetarian.”

“I tried that once,” Zoey says. “We went to the state fair when I was a kid and I saw all the piglets at the races and it made me cry to think about eating them. As it turns out, I’m too American to give up hamburgers.”

Which she promptly gets self-conscious about—like, is she incapable of shutting up about herself for ten seconds?—but it makes Celine snort and Mira make a sound that somewhat resembles a laugh.

“Maybe we should—should we go there? To Rumi’s?” Zoey bites her lip, focusing on the road to avoid looking at anyone’s expression. “I mean, I know it would take time, but if we’re trying to get her back, it would be… it’s hers, right?”

Mira hums in agreement, the sound followed, thankfully, by an awkward slurp.

(Not that Zoey was attaching her self-worth to the fact that Mira seemingly didn’t want the smoothie she made or anything.

And she isn’t at all unreasonably impacted by Mira tapping the glass and giving her a pleased smile after her first sip. Nope. Not at all.)

“As I said, you know her best,” Celine says. “I don’t know the clock for this either. Retrieving someone from Gwi-Ma’s realm is unprecedented.”

Which is just what a girl wants to hear before her first ritual to beat up a demon lord.

She looks at Mira. Mira looks at her. Steady. Unflinching. A quiet question to her gaze.

Rumi would do it, wouldn’t she? She wouldn’t stop until she did.

She is, far and away, the best dressed person at the rural marketplace but is very much not acting like she's cognizant of it.

It's...quite the picture, and Zoey agrees.

"You know, one of the girls in my class thought she was a hack," Zoey whispers as they watch Celine, after walking them through the qualities of a good sacrificial chicken and how to find a bird that exemplified them, haggle with the wizened chicken-seller about price. "Saying that a real shaman wouldn't wear pantsuits. Really wish she could see her now."

Mira hums and gives a little nod, mindful of her throbbing jaw.

"She's pretty cool, ya know?"

Nod again. Honestly, yeah. If Mira had met her, like, ten-ish years ago when she was an impressionable kid, she'd have probably imprinted on her like a pathetic duckling and annoyed her to hell and back.

(Your father has hardly been dead for a day and you're already replacing him; despicable. You deserved everything bruise and broken bone they gave you, you ungrateful-)

"Alright." Celine rejoins them with a cloth-covered cage, leaving behind a scowling halmeoni (Mira's honestly not surprised; Celine doesn't seem like the sort to accept a loss). She motions Mira and Zoey to follow her, not breaking her stride. "We still need a few more things; this way."

Soon they have incense, fresh oranges, a new package of thick white pieces of chalk ("to create the gate," Celine had explained), and a package of heavy-duty over-the-counter painkillers that Mira tried to shove back at Celine.

"You are helping enough," the robotic text-to-speech voice on her phone read. "I'll be fine."

"Perhaps," Celine allowed, pressing the bottle into Mira's hand. "But you'll need to be sharp for the ritual; it'll be easier if you're not distracted by your jaw."

(She thinks you're pathetic and she's right, COWARD.)

Unfortunately, her jaw really hurts so she takes them; still feels guilty, though.

"So we're going to Rumi's place, then?" Zoey asks once they pile back in the car with their purchases, chicken included. She reaches for the GPS as Celine nods and gives an address.

Mira's eyes widen as Zoey's hand drops. They knew Rumi's place was on Jeju; Celine had told them. But that...is a far drive.

"ETA 3 hours?!?" Zoey exclaims. "And- that doesn't even include the ferry!" She groans, dropping her head on the steering wheel so the horn blares and sends the chicken into a clucking frenzy. "What if that's too late?"

Mira steps in before Celine can speak. Or, well, steps in with her phone voice.

"Start driving. We won't be."

(Yes, because you did such a good job saving your family from themselves, ever the dutiful daughter. We both know you wanted them dead)

They had to be.

Celine is of a similar mind. “Think of it this way: three hours to figure out what you can use to draw Rumi to the gate.”

Mira looks at Zoey. Shit she almost forgot.

Miyeong stared at her cell phone before again glancing to the sky to confirm that pigs were indeed not flying. Given who she was hearing from her phone's speakers - she was still wary of flying porcine. An investigative reporter may have any number of people call with actual stories and also to peddle utter nonsense. One did not expect Park Minji to call her. The hospital registar guarded patient privacy and access to the hospital like a... bah, some European creature. A particularly prickly one that Miyeong had personally seen go "I don't know you and you don't have a badge" to a doctor and not open the doors. Another physician had vouched for the individual but that essentially was what happened with Park Minji. One of the firmest by the procedural book individuals. If you were not on the list of people that were allowed to know about a patient on the confidential list - she would not divulge information, nor even whether or not the patient was in the system if she could manage it. As someone whose job covered information and asking people questions - Miyeong had managed to make the list of individuals Park Minji noticed on sight. Which was useful the one time she'd gotten knocked unconscious, and transported to the hospital without ID because Park Minji had indeed recognized her. The woman had actually had a decent bed side manner of confirming medical information and who were the emergency contacts to be called when Miyeong had woken up. But besides for that incident - Park Minji and Miyeong were something akin to "Professional Natural Enemies" with Miyeong classifying above "Ambulance Chasers and Paparazzi" (The fact that Park Minji must have spent part of her childhood away from Seoul explained a lot in Miyeong's opinion) and Miyeong showed her respect to the other woman by attempting to weedle information out or getting inside to talk to patients out of the other woman's sight. Over the phone the other woman repeated: "Why aren't you bothering me right now?" And the woman who would call the emergency department to the waiting room because someone had just started seizing in the waiting room and then be left calming all the normal people, collecting names and dates of birth while also keeping an eye on the child in the corner with their parents with a wheezing breath to watch for breathing to become an emergency, That woman had stress underlining her tone. And was calling Miyeong. "I was just getting lunch." "Hurry. My entrance." The call closed with a click.

Okay my favorite version of half gumiho!Celine personally is that she has significant memory loss even if she gets her tails back, so please imagine:

Celine takes the bead, it physically melts onto her, she full-on transforms… and goes “hm, that’s nice,” grabs Rumi with her tails to snuggle back up, and rolls right over to sleep again

No idea what happened. No idea why she feels so much more whole and alive when she wakes up than she has… ever. No idea where the fucking demon traits came from

Is this some kind of curse????

And meanwhile toddler Rumi just knows that the Honmoon was very happy when all of this happened, so clearly it was good, so she was perfectly chill having fox mom snuggles the night before—but she can show Celine the box! In the office! That she probably wasn’t supposed to touch…

But the sources have to be wrong because then that would mean shes- That would mean her mentors- No. That cant be true. It just cant be. There has too be something else.

Whatever the truth, the resolution to her problem is obvious. Find the soul bead, lock it back up, and exercise the most rigorous self control she's ever managed in order to cure herself. How a gumiho's soul bead affected her she couldn't figure out. But it didn't matter. She knew what to do. It would be tricky, to be sure. Starving herself without Rumi realizing what was happening. If she could, she would have hidden the entire ordeal from her. Gumihos and Jeoseung Saja were different, even if they were both demons. Jeoseung Saja couldn't be turned human, especially not by starvation. She couldn't bear the thought of her daughter suffering from that awful clawing from within. Rumi needed to stay focused on the Golden Honmoon.

But in order to lock away the soul bead, or whatever cursed thing did this to her, she would first have to find it. She knows, from Rumi's descriptions of the 'pretty pebble I found that reminds me of you, eomma' that it at least superficially resembles a soul bead. She knows it's color (jade, with lighter swirls), size (approximately 2 cm in diameter) and shape, she knows where Rumi gave it to her (in bed). Try as she might, she could not find the cursed object. And Rumi was there, watching, when the first transformation. Even had Celine found the bead that first morning, there could have been no hiding it from Rumi.

The fox that has taken up residence inside her is delighted by Rumi. It takes every opportunity it can to wrap around her, calling her its kit. She can't tell if it's the demonic nature of the fox (not her nature, never hers) that sees its own kind in Rumi, if it simply assumed that she was Rumi's mother, or if it was preying on her worst desire, to take Mi-yeong's place. It claws for control, snarling its way out of her skin with such ferocity that she fears for Rumi. But it is always softer with her than it is to Celine. Rumi never seems to realize the threat, always cuddling and stroking soft fur in childish wonder.

Even if Rumi seems to love the fox that has infested her, even if the Honmoon isn't torn by her presence, even if she feels better now (more alive, more whole) than she can ever recall, she knows this is dangerous. How good it seems can only indicate that it must be a trap. Something to wear down her careful guard.

She bars Rumi from her room unless she is there with her. She can't risk this taking her too. Rumi is always banned when she turns the room inside out, hunting for that cursed bead. She searches, time and time again. Worry forms a tight ball behind her chest as she continues to go without finding it, day after day, and week after week, but she shoves it down inside each time.

She learns, not to live with it, but how to manage a holding pattern. The fox is locked within her as deep as she can force it, for as long as she can hold it, until it bursts back out. She tried once, briefly, foolishly, to coexist with it, but after how intensely the Honmoon reacted when she sang a lullaby to Rumi with the fox's tails wrapped around her, Celine learned better.

And then there is a tear. Not the first since the curse, but the worst in several years. She can still summon her ssang-geom, she checked that first, frightening morning (and still checks, every night). She kisses Rumi on the forehead and promises to return, before leaving Rumi in the saferoom.

Even from miles away, Celine can feel the bleeding pain of the Honmoon. She speeds. She has been suppressing the fox for too long, keeping it at bay for public appearances and her own piece of mind. She can't afford to let it slip during the fight. She beats it back and concentrates on driving, suppressing the urge to growl.

Once at the tear, she throws herself into the fight. Demons are swarming through the hole in the Honmoon, and she will not let them take a single soul tonight. She has plenty of pent-up energy from everything from dealing with the label to her ongoing curse.

Her ears twitch and she hears the crunch of feet on gravel, and spins, extending one blade before she has the time to process it. One of her ssang-geom passes through a demon, banishing it. It had managed to sneak up on her. She shouldn't have even heard those footsteps, but she's lucky she did.

The fight continues, and until she slays the last demon and seals the tear, she does not get a chance to breathe. And when she does, she feels alive, alive in a way that she hasn't since Mi-yeong died and two-thirds of her soul were taken from her.

So quick, in fact, that she hadn’t had time to figure out how to make all of her foxness… go away. But right now the horrid fox spirit inside of her was on the same page as she was for once: Rumi. She had to get to Rumi.

The tear in the Honmoon was small. Celine easily sliced through the stragglers, who all seemed to be running…back to the portal.

That’s when she rounded a corner and came face to face with a demon she had never seen before. It was a fox, but it was massive. Silvery fur glistened in the low light, yellow eyes like molten sunlight locked with hers, long white teeth bared, hackles raised, numerous tails swept around something. The beast growled at the newcomer with terrible fury.

Just as Celine readied her blades, a figure ducked under one of the fluffy silver tails and raced around the large animal.

“Wait!” Rumi cried, her little hands waving desperately for Celine to stand down.

Celine paused in shock. And even more surprisingly, so did the giant fox.

“She saved me,” Rumi explained, pointing to the silver fox.

Celine eyed Rumi with confusion, feeling her new ears react to her frown. “She…saved…”

The giant fox’s body shuddered, then shifted. Spirals of gold light enveloped its form, and in the blink of an eye, a woman stood before them. A woman who also bore pointed fluffy ears and golden eyes, scarlet patterns painted across her cheeks and arms.

But she would have looked like Celine even without those traits.

“Rumi,” she said carefully, “go inside. Now.”

But Rumi did not go inside, setting her jaw. “Why?”

“The grown-ups need to have a talk,” Celine said carefully, adjusting her grip on her swords.

The fox spirit howled inside of her as the gumiho wilted, stuttering back as she must’ve realized her scheme wouldn’t work.

“Aegiya, please,” the gumiho started.

Celine stared at her icily, daring her to—her vision whited out with a new pulse of pain, something trying desperately to claw loose, and she couldn’t help but gasp, curling forward.

Warm hands pressed comfortingly, familiarly, at her forehead and the back of her neck, and the fox spirit pressed her head into leaning into the touch, even as Rumi raced to cling to Celine’s legs.

Celine barely even noticed her tails wrapping around Rumi as she shouldered away the gumiho, scowling. “Get away from me.”

Her heart—the fox spirit’s heart hurt at the look on the gumiho’s face, and Celine refused to think anything of it.

The first is a voice like the wind in the summer leaves, brushing against her ears like thistledown. This makes no sense because it's very much not Rumi's voice and it just as much can't be the gumiho's; if it were, it wouldn't be sending warmth sighing across her skin and slackening her muscles.

The second is a whine, high and pained and grating. This makes no sense because it sounds- no, it feels- like it's coming from her; there's a tightness in her throat that pinches the air threading through it so it cries pathetically past her lips.

"I know, I know," the voice purred as the hands rubbed a circle between her shoulder blades, finding a knot and kneading it out. "Remembering hurts. Rumi will be back with something to help soon."

Another whine limped from her throat and she felt herself start to settle. She just wanted to sink into the touch; it felt good, so good, a favorite blanket but better, warmer, cozier, like it was wrapped around her soul-

No.

The fox was winning. That was the only explanation for why she felt so at ease with the demon. Panic surged and she shifted away from the gumiho's hands as she tried to beat it back.

(The fox yowled, and she felt its pain ripple through her).

(Ignore it).

"Aegiya, careful!" The gumiho reaches out as Celine gathered her legs under her to stagger to her feet. "You're not-"

"I'm fine!" Celine snarled, pushing herself to stand and reaching for the Honmoon. "Your only concern should be how fast you can run-"

It was like a demon's club had just split her skull.

"Hmmm" the gumiho said as she caught Celine and lowered her again to the ground, a smile in her voice. "I think I'll worry about that after my stubborn kit's feeling better."

There she was again, calling her 'kit.' Through the rippling pain Celine ran through all she'd read about gumiho, the tricks they played, the lies they told to try and coax their victims into complicitly. Feigning kinship after letting their true form be seen...was not one of them.

So then...

"I got it!" She cracked an eye to see Rumi racing from the hanok, arms full of a dripping cloth and ice pack (Honmoon, she hoped she closed the freezer this time) and tea towels and her favorite teddy bear. "I got the stuff to help Celine feel better!"

(The gumiho...wanted her to feel better?)

"Good job, Rumi-ya." Celine took pause from wondering if this gumiho had a death wish and cracked open an eye in time to see the gumiho give Rumi an affectionate pat on the head as she took the ice pack and wrapped it in a towel. "Once she's feeling up to it we'll get her inside, alright?"

She needs to figure this out, become wise to the game the gumiho is playing-

"Alright aegiya; it's going to be cold."

Which would be easier without trying to think around that whining.

Even if that look on her face—an attempt at hiding faking pain behind soft amusement—was achingly familiar, and only had the fox more upset.

“The more you fight it—“ she started, and Celine cut her off with a sharp glare.

“You have to fight the demon,” she snarled back.

The gumiho blinked. “You? Or I?”

It took a moment for Celine to understand, and another moment still to catch the odd phrasing and realize that Insuk-seonsaengnim had once said that to her. Said it to her often. Which didn’t make sense but…

“Shut up,” she retorted.

It felt childish even before Rumi said, “Celine, isn’t it bad to say that?”

The gumiho’s eyes lit up with mirth.

“It’s not the most polite,” Celine agreed, through gritted teeth, “but what’s the rule about being impolite?”

“Only do it on purpose,” Rumi recited.

Now, the gumiho looked about to burst out laughing, delighted.

She couldn't trust it with her ki—with her d—with Rumi. Rumi had to learn that demons could not be trusted, no matter how much they looked like friends or family. She could not trust the resemblance this gumiho had drawn between her and the false skin, no matter how comforting her presence had been. Especially because of how comforting it had been to the fox.

The gumiho's smile faded as quick as it appeared, but more than being insulted, she just looked pained. "Aegiya," she said.

Celine bared her teeth at the gumiho over Rumi's head. "Do not. Call me that."

"Celine," the gumiho ceded, clearly unhappy she had seen through her lies.

The fox inside her yowled in complaint, and her vision began to tunnel.

"What do you really want?" She didn't want to bargin with this demon, but she had no other choice. With her head like this, she would have a hard time fighting off Rumi, let alone a full-fledged gumiho. Even their young could inflict serious damage with their claws, she knew. "I won't help you steal souls, or feast on human flesh, so if that's your goal, you can forget it, and just fight me now. I won't be some tool for a demon, no matter what you offer."

"I want to help," the gumiho said, after a moment of indecision.

Everything in her was screaming not to trust this demon, to shut it out and bar the door. But she was so, so tired of fighting, and while the ice pack had helped, she could still only barely see without spots crowding the remainder of her vision.

"She really did help, Celine," Rumi volunteered from where Celine was cradling her, with her arms and tails. She would have pulled the tails away, gotten Rumi away from them, if not for the way she clutched at the tails.

When she lifted a hand from Rumi's shoulder to her mouth, she felt the impression of fangs through her skin. But nothing else. Her vision tunneled further. The pain was better, but still taking its toll.

"Why?" Celine asked.

"I ... lost my own kit, years ago," the Gumiho lied. "She was stolen from me, taken to where I could not go. I have lived here for some time. I knew of your kit. I could hardly wish the same pain upon you."

If Gumiho were such excellent tricksters, then why could Celine tell when she lied? This one was hiding something from her. Not telling the full truth.

"And If I wish to cure myself of this curse?" Celine asked. "What would you do?"

"I would teach you everything I knew. And," the gumiho swallowed, as if to claim that she could barely stand the the thought. "If I could not convince you not to, I would not stand in your way."

She eyed the gumiho suspiciously. “You didn’t move me?”

“I told Rumi we’d wait until you felt better,” she replied, with an awful, enigmatic, familiar smile. “And I doubt you’d want me carrying you, ae—“

The word fell off into thin air.

Celine couldn’t tell whether it was an intentional slip or not, a play to show her how much the gumiho cared and remind her that she still respected her boundaries, a too-many-layered headgame for her own aching brain to take.

She decided to ignore it, tapping at Rumi’s sides instead until her half-asleep k—until she woke up enough to slide off herself.

Tentatively, Celine sat up—her vision blurred briefly, pain ratcheting up until her stomach roiled, but it faded back to a manageable ache after a few moments. She summoned one of her swords and took another moment to fight the nausea of that exertion, before—

“Celine!”

—Rumi realized she was awake and barreled directly into her. Celine caught her with a grunt.

Rumi looked up at her with wide eyes. “Are you feeling better now?”

“Of course I am.” Celine pushed back her hair, breathing slowly and evenly. “I have you here, don’t I?”

Rumi huffed, too old for Celine’s silliness, but she didn’t let go, not even when Celine managed to wrangle all of her tails back away.

“Why don’t you help me get up and we can get you to bed?” Celine offered, looking around—it had been sunset when she got in, and it was full night now, noticeably colder. She supposed those damned tails were good for something, at least, if they’d kept Rumi from catching her death.

"But Celine," Rumi whined, in a manner that made Celine's ears pin back against her head.

Rumi barely paused before she shook her head.

“Then no,” Celine said. “I have no reason to.”

It didn’t seem to comfort her, but she didn’t have more to say—Celine pressed a quick kiss to her forehead and stepped back out again, shutting the door behind her.

She gestured for the gumiho to follow her, heading for the kitchen. “Would you like something to drink?”

What a mockery of hosting. She was surprised the earth didn’t start to shake beneath them, with how all of the Hunters outside must’ve been rolling in their graves.

“I couldn’t impose,” said the gumiho, behind her.

“Please,” Celine insisted, blankly running through the tracks of politeness.

“I—I would not mind some water,” she said, carefully.

“I plan on making tea,” Celine pointed out.

“Oh, then whatever you’re having is fine,” the gumiho deferred.

And so Celine made tea.

The gumiho did not mention what Rumi had said as she sipped. Celine made a mental note to tell Rumi to be careful in the morning, and decided not to strain her tired brain with what it might mean.

“Why don’t you tell me what you know?” the gumiho asked.

“I touched a soul bead, and since then… this,” Celine explained, gesturing to herself, seated sideways in a chair to allow the damned tails to have their space. That she neatly cut out Rumi’s involvement along with the rest of the details was intentional.

“So you know what a soul bead is, then?” the gumiho asked. There was something achingly familiar irritating about the tilt of her head, making the leading questions rankle her like a child.

Celine resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “A jade sphere which a gumiho holds within itself and acts as an anchor of demonic identity.”

“‘Anchor of demonic identity’?” the gumiho echoed. “I suppose that’s not an inaccurate description.”

“And how would you put it?” she asked, as the gumiho clearly wanted.

“It is the fox-self,” the gumiho said. “You can separate it, but it is the essential nature and the essence of the nature. Having it halfway is impossible to cope with.”

Excellent point @grundpfeiler

It’s a little like:

She supposes it was a mite rude, but no matter the gumiho's advanced age or venerable act (because it is an act, how could it be anything else?), it is still a gumiho, and cannot be trusted. Last night was a prime example.

She had tried until the clock chimed the new day to pry some useful, sensible information out of her, but all she'd gotten were logic-bending riddles about essences and natures and 'accepting the fox' which were too much for her battered mind to process. Sleep hadn't sifted any sense from them, leaving her convinced the gumiho was just trying to string her along until-

Well, she hadn't figured that out yet, but time reveals all if one watches for the signs.

So she watches the gumiho, suspiciously, as she turns to Rumi. "Soyi-nim is sufficient." Then, to the gumiho: "We don't call people things they aren't in this house."

A wounded expression pinches the gumiho's face, and the Fox in her nips and whimpers.

(and something in her human soul cries as well)

She ignores both as Rumi nods, apologizes, then recovers and leads Celine to the table, talking a mile a minute, and watches her fill a plate, insisting she "try that one!" and "that one!" and "that one!"

She finds herself taking seconds, then thirds. Calling on the Honmoon for weapons and strength and healing depleted one's energy in the worst way, so she was grateful that, for the first time in a long time, she could freely sate the hunger gnawing at her stomach.

Plus it's a good breakfast. Filling. And...familiar. The dishes- they're ones she makes for Rumi all the time, but the taste...it tingles pleasantly on her tongue and sends the Fox yipping and cavorting in delight. The pajeon especially.

She finds she keeps going back to that platter, and every time she takes a bite-

Air creek-cool and smelling of mountain wind. Dew dampening her shirt as she lay on her belly in the grass. An ant weaving across the dirt. A beautiful lady whose image made her heart sing calling her inside and setting a plate of favorite pajeon in front of her.

"Eat up, my kit."

It had to be a trick. If Soyi had planted the soul bead within the hanok, then perhaps she could have—

Soyi couldn't have planted the bead. Rumi had shown her the box in the office that she had found it in. It was a box that had been kept in the office of the Hunter's hanok since she was a trainee. A box she had never received a satisfying explanation for, but by the time Rumi came around, entirely forgotten about.

A small, traitorous part of her wants to believe that the memory could be real. But ... it would mean too much, if it were. She would be a demon raising a demon, the daughter of her enemy, not a Hunter raising a Hunter, the daughter of her ally and companion.

"Celine?" Rumi asks, concern in her voice. "Are you okay?"

She can reflect on this later, when Rumi is working through her lessons, unable to be disturbed by worries not her own.

"Just memories, Rumi-ya," Celine dismisses, as she stands.

She catches her reflection in a mirror. Her ears stick up from her head, with red patterns crawling down her arms and up her face. Her eyes are golden. Celine scowls, and shoves the fox back down within. But when she tries to separate the fox from herself, the hands that attempt to do so are clawed.

With concentration, the patterns retreat some and her eyes are human again. But the ears are still inhuman. Her tails thrash in irritation, alerting her to the fact that they too are out. Celine tries a second time to will the fox spirit back down within herself. It does not work.

She cannot re-assert her human form. Panic sticks in her throat. She tries again, and almost drops the dishes she is carrying when she still cannot become human once more.

The knock sounds again, louder.

“I can’t answer the door this way,” she says.

“Indeed?” the gumiho asks, her own demonic features fading into a pleasant, older woman.

“I won’t be out of earshot,” Celine warns her.

The gumiho tilts her head. “For what?”

Celine can’t stop the way her lip curls, the fox playfully snapping back even as she gets truly annoyed. “Just go. Rumi, stay here.”

Their visitor knocks again. “Celine!”

Celine’s knees go weak at the familiar voice, so fucking familiar—years without her and still so, so familiar. Like one part of her soul, come back to her again, and all she feels is the cold rush of fear, a whine slipping from her throat as the gumiho slips out and she begs for any way to stop this before it all comes together, two things equal and opposite, never surviving contact—there could be no way.

No no no no no.

But she’s frozen, leaning on the counter, fox and woman alike straining against the idea of the gumiho opening that door.

But it still slides open.

“Well, hello. Celine isn’t quite up to visitors right now.”

A. Executive Dysfunction B. I write slow C. Improv in general I'm not good at. D. I am not the best at collaborative writing in general.

But I think I can do a "Yes And" without breaking everyone's momentum here so…

Celine hisses out a breath, wondering why the hell Hyeonseo had chosen now of all times to show up, after years of silence—was the Honmoon truly so upset by this curse of hers?

Maybe if she gets in bed and focuses the ears and patterns away? Yes, yes, she can disguise the tails under the blankets and keep her eyes shut and her hands covered. It would be enough.

(Every gumiho-tale she’s ever heard has the fox whining with fear inside her, reminding her of torn off gloves and fans pulled away from fanged mouths and—)

“I’m going to get in bed,” she says, softly, her voice stiff with fear, but steady. “I’ll tell you when you can let Hyeonseo in, just stall her until then.”

Rumi’s eyes get wide as she points to herself, astounded that Celine would let her get involved in a plan, and then she nods seriously before Celine can correct her.

The gumiho’s voice goes smooth as she starts to argue gently, uncertainly, in favor of Celine’s privacy, perhaps if she asks her first—ready to defer, now, the moment she gets the signal.

“No, Rumi-ya, I meant the gumiho,” she corrects, pulling her down the hall. “You need—“

Can’t go to the safe room, Hyeonseo might notice if Rumi’s human babysitter somehow knew about that, can’t risk her not going to the safe room, can she?

“—to go to your room, and shut the door, and pretend you don’t know what’s happening. Go out the window if it sounds like danger, but if Hyeonseo comes to the door, pretend.”

“But Celine—“

“I need you to listen,” Celine snaps. “Now.”

Rumi goes quiet as they reach her door, still. Usually, Celine would try to soothe the wound and explain herself, but right now—

“Be brave,” she says, an awful command, Insuk-seonsaengnim haunting her voice, and opens the door. There is another memory whispering as she tells her kit, “Survive.”

Her face pales, but Celine cannot stop. She races to her own room, throwing the blankets over herself, scattering pillows until the tails were just more lumps, and closes her eyes.

The fox yowls as she presses against her ears, the pulsing ache starting up again at the base of her skull, but Celine has not gotten this far by being anything but stubborn.

“Come on,” she grinds out. “Now, come on.”

The gumiho takes her cue.

Her face burns as the patterns retreat, and Celine flops back against the pillows, unable to stop the fox’s whining from escaping her lips as she grapples against the ears, uncaring of the way her claws tear into the sheets, unhesitating as her headache roars.

But she knows, knows, knows, that she can be human when the Hunter comes.

No one else saw the lights but her, and even Mama who believed her didn't have the lights respond to her like they did Celine. She knew her Mama believed her because together they would go to libraries and Celine would be in the children's section while the woman would find books herself on syn- something. (Synesthesia.) The lines of light that glowed and waved back to her, ripples upon the water surface when she hummed and sang. Mama asked her to tell her when the lights turned red - ever since that awful day when something had snapped and the flame slaves, the light thieves tore from the underworld. The flame slaves were trouble thrice, her mama had explained. Once for the souls they devoured, tribute to a terrible king who forever hungered as a flame, never satisfied. Twice for the holes caused by the lost, disappearances that brought down searchers who would never find who they searched but might find something else. And also hide other disappearances. (Like the murderous Gumiho who had been sulking the edges of Mama's territory. It was only when poor Yeongho-oba's body had been found that Mama had realized the kind man who would set aside the liver for them hadn't been lost to something from the underworld. That there was a danger for her to drive away.) Last - the Hunters would come to slay the flame slaves. And all they judged a threat to humanity.

A lifetime ago a woman walked into the hospital room, lighting up the music threads with a hum. (She'd been pretending to be human - they'd never thought to hide the music lights.) Celine watched with wide eyes as the music threads glowed and glistened in response. (The hunter had smiled as her eyes tracked Celine's darting around the room.)

Celine blinked and her bedroom came back into focus. The quiet melody next to her stopped.

"Hey," Hyeonseo said from a chair next to Celine's bed. "Welcome back." Gently the other woman reached out one hand, finger tips ghosting over Celine's temple as she moved hair from her face to behind one (human) ear.

"Only you would manage to look healthier in the Honmoon while also being a complete wreck." Hyeonseo chuckled - but there was no humor in the sound. A third of Celine's soul watched quietly with eyes that darted from Celine to something in the Honmoon, dipping under to see the world as a weave of souls and life. "I could suddenly feel you without scouring the horizon."

"What do you want." Celine growl - forced herself to say evenly. Forced the wave climbing up her throat at the mention of being able to be seen in a way that she had long been merely three shades away from invisible down.

"To make sure you are okay." Hyeonseo lied, lied better than even the Gumiho who assuredly was listening from somewhere in the building. It must be a lie because if Hyeonseo cared she would have stayed.

"What are you really here for." Celine ground out.

Hyeonseo brought her hands to her lap. "There was a tear here last night."

"Yes, I noticed. And dealt with it." Celine didn't wince as she stared down Hyeonseo and the pounding pain in her skull simultaneously. Of course Celine dealt with the tear - it could not have been Rumi's babysitter who killed the demons.

"Celine - there was a tear here." Hyeonseo said. "In the middle of the compound. Tears don't happen here."

Celine started to get up - face flushing as fury flared. "Rumi isn't-"

Hyeonseo was standing, one hand at Celine's shoulder. Not pushing her down, but insistent.

"No - this is too new for it to be her. And Demons don't do micro tears like this." Hyeonseo soothed, pulling the blanket back up around Celine. Celine kept her right arm out, digging her fingers into her palms to hide the claws.

(Please don't let this turn into a fight.)

"Rumi's not a demon." Celine reflexively responded as her mind caught upon the second bit of the statement.

"She -" Hyeonseo evidently rethought whatever she was going to say because she dropped that sentence. "Demons are merely the closest point of reference we have, besides Hunters, for her. And she's not responsible for this. It's too new. And if she caused active harm to the Honmoon by her presence we'd all be swarming with demons right now." Hyeonseo said the last bit with her eyes refusing to meet Celine's.

"What micro tears?" Celine said at last.

Hyeonseo's head dropped to her hands. "Celine," the other woman exhaled out in exasperation. "You do actually feel out the Honmoon don't you?"

Celine rolled her eyes, feeling out the shape of an old argument. "Pinging the Honmoon like sonar is dangerous."

"No it's not." Hyeonseo's face twisted. "I mean, that wasn't your fault."

The Hunter pulled up a chair to sit next to Celine's hospital bed.

"This must have been a frightening summer for you." The woman said kindly. "These, animal attacks and the multiple flash floods. You and your mother have been fortunate to have been on her business trips when they've occurred."

Flash floods - yes, that was how the raids of the flame slaves were being explained.

And poor Yeongho-oppa. Who the local village aunts would cluck approvingly when Mama went by the butcher shop and have to argue with him to pay a normal price instead of so many discounts. Who when he watched her would show her the beginnings of how to cut and trim meat for sale. (She wasn't supposed to hear him when she was sent off ahead of her mother home, but he had been always so loud and jovial, and didn't know how sharp her hearing was when her mama thanked him for watching for her. Who didn't know she'd hear him say, "It would be such a small petty thing for a man to look at a child and only see another man's child." He'd been sweet on mama. And mama had stopped protesting when Celine would point him out at festivals and dances to her, and started to smile and laugh when Celine would run to him for a hug.)

Yeongho-oppa, found in the woods with his liver gone, ripped from him.

"Have you seen anything?" The Hunter asked, eyes knowing.

"No." Celine lied. (She lied too much - she should have talked about the monster. The one who had clawed her mother. The one who had killed Yeongho-oppa. She lied too much and so had Eungyeong learned what her lying looked like.)

"Gwima had been looking for me." Celine said darkly. "And I kept poking the Honmoon." (And brought danger twice over down on her family. Hadn't she?)

"It's not your fault you connected to the Honmoon early - nor that you were hard for our teachers to find." Hyeonseo argued.

"I got my family killed." Because five different Honmoon breaches in the same area over a summer did that. Because when Gwima realized there was a fledgling hunter without any idea what she was doing - well, it was so much easier to strangle a fox kit than a full grown fox.

"Celine- just… watch." Hyeonseo hummed, a quiet melody and the Honmoon responded. And then Celine did see it. Not a tear, but the end of an old fishing net - the rope fuzzy from the pieces fraying at the edges.

"That's not good." Celine said at last as the knowledge settled, another ten pounds of nonsense on top of everything else.

Hyeonseo didn't say anything - her quiet look of "Yes you fucking idiot" didn't need any words. Especially not with the eyebrow hinting that Hyeonseo was considering adding on the epithets that had Mi-yeong placing her full weight on Hyeonseo's foot as Celine hurriedly talked to get their trio out of the room before Hyeonseo told their managers exactly what she thought of them.

The silence between them dragged - awkward and sharp in the years since they just talked.

"Have you been eating?" Hyeonseo said at last, just to break the silence.

Celine rolled her eyes. The fox looked up in approval from the burrow it had found somewhere in her as it hid from the Hunter. Of course it liked the idea of eating. "Really?" Celine queried.

Hyeonseo scoffed. "You're terrible at eating when you get sick. You always have been. … I should write down Mi-yeong's soup recipe for Beok-ssi. You always ate that one."

Celine knew exactly which recipe Hyeonseo was talking about. And the fox apparently was able to find her memories because it was pleased despite the fear keeping it's fur standing on end, her mouth watering at the memory. The one with the liver. Of course it liked the idea. (Of course she had always eaten it, even with Eungyeong- disapproving of the recipe when she heard of it. Hyeonseo and Mi-yeong moved to trading helping with household chores in the neighboring community for access to the kitchens to make it for her instead when she was sick. Then smuggling it back home.)

In disgust she pushed at the fox, back into the burrow. It squirmed in her grip, clawing and snapping.

"Whatever you just did, stop it." Hyeonseo ordered, eyes flicking to a corner of Celine's bedroom.

Celine didn't know what exactly Hyeonseo was looking at and she didn't care. Her head swam with pain as she pushed the fox down. "I'm not doing anything." She lied, grasping the fox.

The fox twitched, slipped… and the headache eased. Celine panicked tried to twitch the fox ears. Nothing happened - good. She grimaced as she bit her tongue.

"Okay, that's better." Hyeonseo said - relaxing before turning back to Celine. Her eyes widened for a brief second before she reached out to touch Celine's arm.

Her hand brushed down the path of invisible scars, wounds only the two of them knew about long healed. Before resting on the thick scar, stretched from growing up that wrapped around Celine's wrist. A matched set to the one on her other wrist.

Hyeonseo gently held Celine's wrist in hers, rubbing her thumb along the ugly raised edges that Celine hated. Despite herself Celine relaxed into the familiarity.

"Let me take over hunting while you rest." Celine raised an eyebrow.

Hyeonseo breathed out. "Look, we both know we essentially split territory when I… disagreed about Rumi. But you need to rest and heal, and you won't be doing that if you're trying to cover all that ground."

Celine didn't want to hear Hyeonseo make sense. She didn't want to depend on Hyeonseo. Hyeonseo left and would leave again. But she was right.

"Fine." Celine agreed, sullen.

"And - I would like access to the library." Seeing Celine wind up for an argument Hyeonseo quickly pushed out - "With permission and advance notice given."

Celine stared in sullen mute silence - voice stolen by Hyeonseo's audacity. Hyeonseo could understand her in the quiet.

"Celine we both agree that the micro tears aren't being caused by Rumi. But something is causing them - and we need to figure out what. Especially as they are weakening the Honmoon around Rumi, you're sick and we have a civilian taking care of both you and Rumi."

"You have to give me a full day's notice - at least." Celine stated.

"Fine." Hyeonseo agreed instantly, relief flooding her features, her thumb never ceasing as it stroked Celine's wrist.

The Gumiho knocked on the door. "I do believe it's time you let the patient rest." It wasn't a request.

Hyeonseo nodded, oddly subdued. Slowly her grip released Celine's wrist.

Halfway to the door, and to her escort out she turned around. "Celine - in the library do you know where I would find stories about - well broader myths and legends."

Celine nestled into her blankets. "Probably closer to the back. You know that our teachers hated me reading about that stuff."

Hyeonseo nodded slowly. Expression somber and - Celine closed her eyes. Her headache was effecting her vision. Hyeonseo had no reason to be realizing something quietly horrifying. If Hyeonseo had realized that Celine was corrupted by a fox she'd be trying to stab her Honmoon weapon through Celine's heart.

Hyeonseo left the room behind the Gumiho - and as Celine, exhausted, her headache flaring as her body shuddered, the ears and tails easing back into reality fell into an exhausted sleep, through the closed door she heard Hyeonseo begin to describe Mi-yeong's soup recipe to the Gumiho.

Okay my favorite version of half gumiho!Celine personally is that she has significant memory loss even if she gets her tails back, so please imagine:

Celine takes the bead, it physically melts onto her, she full-on transforms… and goes “hm, that’s nice,” grabs Rumi with her tails to snuggle back up, and rolls right over to sleep again

No idea what happened. No idea why she feels so much more whole and alive when she wakes up than she has… ever. No idea where the fucking demon traits came from

Is this some kind of curse????

And meanwhile toddler Rumi just knows that the Honmoon was very happy when all of this happened, so clearly it was good, so she was perfectly chill having fox mom snuggles the night before—but she can show Celine the box! In the office! That she probably wasn’t supposed to touch…

But the sources have to be wrong because then that would mean shes- That would mean her mentors- No. That cant be true. It just cant be. There has too be something else.

Whatever the truth, the resolution to her problem is obvious. Find the soul bead, lock it back up, and exercise the most rigorous self control she's ever managed in order to cure herself. How a gumiho's soul bead affected her she couldn't figure out. But it didn't matter. She knew what to do. It would be tricky, to be sure. Starving herself without Rumi realizing what was happening. If she could, she would have hidden the entire ordeal from her. Gumihos and Jeoseung Saja were different, even if they were both demons. Jeoseung Saja couldn't be turned human, especially not by starvation. She couldn't bear the thought of her daughter suffering from that awful clawing from within. Rumi needed to stay focused on the Golden Honmoon.

But in order to lock away the soul bead, or whatever cursed thing did this to her, she would first have to find it. She knows, from Rumi's descriptions of the 'pretty pebble I found that reminds me of you, eomma' that it at least superficially resembles a soul bead. She knows it's color (jade, with lighter swirls), size (approximately 2 cm in diameter) and shape, she knows where Rumi gave it to her (in bed). Try as she might, she could not find the cursed object. And Rumi was there, watching, when the first transformation. Even had Celine found the bead that first morning, there could have been no hiding it from Rumi.

The fox that has taken up residence inside her is delighted by Rumi. It takes every opportunity it can to wrap around her, calling her its kit. She can't tell if it's the demonic nature of the fox (not her nature, never hers) that sees its own kind in Rumi, if it simply assumed that she was Rumi's mother, or if it was preying on her worst desire, to take Mi-yeong's place. It claws for control, snarling its way out of her skin with such ferocity that she fears for Rumi. But it is always softer with her than it is to Celine. Rumi never seems to realize the threat, always cuddling and stroking soft fur in childish wonder.

Even if Rumi seems to love the fox that has infested her, even if the Honmoon isn't torn by her presence, even if she feels better now (more alive, more whole) than she can ever recall, she knows this is dangerous. How good it seems can only indicate that it must be a trap. Something to wear down her careful guard.

She bars Rumi from her room unless she is there with her. She can't risk this taking her too. Rumi is always banned when she turns the room inside out, hunting for that cursed bead. She searches, time and time again. Worry forms a tight ball behind her chest as she continues to go without finding it, day after day, and week after week, but she shoves it down inside each time.

She learns, not to live with it, but how to manage a holding pattern. The fox is locked within her as deep as she can force it, for as long as she can hold it, until it bursts back out. She tried once, briefly, foolishly, to coexist with it, but after how intensely the Honmoon reacted when she sang a lullaby to Rumi with the fox's tails wrapped around her, Celine learned better.

And then there is a tear. Not the first since the curse, but the worst in several years. She can still summon her ssang-geom, she checked that first, frightening morning (and still checks, every night). She kisses Rumi on the forehead and promises to return, before leaving Rumi in the saferoom.

Even from miles away, Celine can feel the bleeding pain of the Honmoon. She speeds. She has been suppressing the fox for too long, keeping it at bay for public appearances and her own piece of mind. She can't afford to let it slip during the fight. She beats it back and concentrates on driving, suppressing the urge to growl.

Once at the tear, she throws herself into the fight. Demons are swarming through the hole in the Honmoon, and she will not let them take a single soul tonight. She has plenty of pent-up energy from everything from dealing with the label to her ongoing curse.

Her ears twitch and she hears the crunch of feet on gravel, and spins, extending one blade before she has the time to process it. One of her ssang-geom passes through a demon, banishing it. It had managed to sneak up on her. She shouldn't have even heard those footsteps, but she's lucky she did.

The fight continues, and until she slays the last demon and seals the tear, she does not get a chance to breathe. And when she does, she feels alive, alive in a way that she hasn't since Mi-yeong died and two-thirds of her soul were taken from her.

So quick, in fact, that she hadn’t had time to figure out how to make all of her foxness… go away. But right now the horrid fox spirit inside of her was on the same page as she was for once: Rumi. She had to get to Rumi.

The tear in the Honmoon was small. Celine easily sliced through the stragglers, who all seemed to be running…back to the portal.

That’s when she rounded a corner and came face to face with a demon she had never seen before. It was a fox, but it was massive. Silvery fur glistened in the low light, yellow eyes like molten sunlight locked with hers, long white teeth bared, hackles raised, numerous tails swept around something. The beast growled at the newcomer with terrible fury.

Just as Celine readied her blades, a figure ducked under one of the fluffy silver tails and raced around the large animal.

“Wait!” Rumi cried, her little hands waving desperately for Celine to stand down.

Celine paused in shock. And even more surprisingly, so did the giant fox.

“She saved me,” Rumi explained, pointing to the silver fox.

Celine eyed Rumi with confusion, feeling her new ears react to her frown. “She…saved…”

The giant fox’s body shuddered, then shifted. Spirals of gold light enveloped its form, and in the blink of an eye, a woman stood before them. A woman who also bore pointed fluffy ears and golden eyes, scarlet patterns painted across her cheeks and arms.

But she would have looked like Celine even without those traits.

“Rumi,” she said carefully, “go inside. Now.”

But Rumi did not go inside, setting her jaw. “Why?”

“The grown-ups need to have a talk,” Celine said carefully, adjusting her grip on her swords.

The fox spirit howled inside of her as the gumiho wilted, stuttering back as she must’ve realized her scheme wouldn’t work.

“Aegiya, please,” the gumiho started.

Celine stared at her icily, daring her to—her vision whited out with a new pulse of pain, something trying desperately to claw loose, and she couldn’t help but gasp, curling forward.

Warm hands pressed comfortingly, familiarly, at her forehead and the back of her neck, and the fox spirit pressed her head into leaning into the touch, even as Rumi raced to cling to Celine’s legs.

Celine barely even noticed her tails wrapping around Rumi as she shouldered away the gumiho, scowling. “Get away from me.”

Her heart—the fox spirit’s heart hurt at the look on the gumiho’s face, and Celine refused to think anything of it.

The first is a voice like the wind in the summer leaves, brushing against her ears like thistledown. This makes no sense because it's very much not Rumi's voice and it just as much can't be the gumiho's; if it were, it wouldn't be sending warmth sighing across her skin and slackening her muscles.

The second is a whine, high and pained and grating. This makes no sense because it sounds- no, it feels- like it's coming from her; there's a tightness in her throat that pinches the air threading through it so it cries pathetically past her lips.

"I know, I know," the voice purred as the hands rubbed a circle between her shoulder blades, finding a knot and kneading it out. "Remembering hurts. Rumi will be back with something to help soon."

Another whine limped from her throat and she felt herself start to settle. She just wanted to sink into the touch; it felt good, so good, a favorite blanket but better, warmer, cozier, like it was wrapped around her soul-

No.

The fox was winning. That was the only explanation for why she felt so at ease with the demon. Panic surged and she shifted away from the gumiho's hands as she tried to beat it back.

(The fox yowled, and she felt its pain ripple through her).

(Ignore it).

"Aegiya, careful!" The gumiho reaches out as Celine gathered her legs under her to stagger to her feet. "You're not-"

"I'm fine!" Celine snarled, pushing herself to stand and reaching for the Honmoon. "Your only concern should be how fast you can run-"

It was like a demon's club had just split her skull.

"Hmmm" the gumiho said as she caught Celine and lowered her again to the ground, a smile in her voice. "I think I'll worry about that after my stubborn kit's feeling better."

There she was again, calling her 'kit.' Through the rippling pain Celine ran through all she'd read about gumiho, the tricks they played, the lies they told to try and coax their victims into complicitly. Feigning kinship after letting their true form be seen...was not one of them.

So then...

"I got it!" She cracked an eye to see Rumi racing from the hanok, arms full of a dripping cloth and ice pack (Honmoon, she hoped she closed the freezer this time) and tea towels and her favorite teddy bear. "I got the stuff to help Celine feel better!"

(The gumiho...wanted her to feel better?)

"Good job, Rumi-ya." Celine took pause from wondering if this gumiho had a death wish and cracked open an eye in time to see the gumiho give Rumi an affectionate pat on the head as she took the ice pack and wrapped it in a towel. "Once she's feeling up to it we'll get her inside, alright?"

She needs to figure this out, become wise to the game the gumiho is playing-

"Alright aegiya; it's going to be cold."

Which would be easier without trying to think around that whining.

Even if that look on her face—an attempt at hiding faking pain behind soft amusement—was achingly familiar, and only had the fox more upset.

“The more you fight it—“ she started, and Celine cut her off with a sharp glare.

“You have to fight the demon,” she snarled back.

The gumiho blinked. “You? Or I?”

It took a moment for Celine to understand, and another moment still to catch the odd phrasing and realize that Insuk-seonsaengnim had once said that to her. Said it to her often. Which didn’t make sense but…

“Shut up,” she retorted.

It felt childish even before Rumi said, “Celine, isn’t it bad to say that?”

The gumiho’s eyes lit up with mirth.

“It’s not the most polite,” Celine agreed, through gritted teeth, “but what’s the rule about being impolite?”

“Only do it on purpose,” Rumi recited.

Now, the gumiho looked about to burst out laughing, delighted.

She couldn't trust it with her ki—with her d—with Rumi. Rumi had to learn that demons could not be trusted, no matter how much they looked like friends or family. She could not trust the resemblance this gumiho had drawn between her and the false skin, no matter how comforting her presence had been. Especially because of how comforting it had been to the fox.

The gumiho's smile faded as quick as it appeared, but more than being insulted, she just looked pained. "Aegiya," she said.

Celine bared her teeth at the gumiho over Rumi's head. "Do not. Call me that."

"Celine," the gumiho ceded, clearly unhappy she had seen through her lies.

The fox inside her yowled in complaint, and her vision began to tunnel.

"What do you really want?" She didn't want to bargin with this demon, but she had no other choice. With her head like this, she would have a hard time fighting off Rumi, let alone a full-fledged gumiho. Even their young could inflict serious damage with their claws, she knew. "I won't help you steal souls, or feast on human flesh, so if that's your goal, you can forget it, and just fight me now. I won't be some tool for a demon, no matter what you offer."

"I want to help," the gumiho said, after a moment of indecision.

Everything in her was screaming not to trust this demon, to shut it out and bar the door. But she was so, so tired of fighting, and while the ice pack had helped, she could still only barely see without spots crowding the remainder of her vision.

"She really did help, Celine," Rumi volunteered from where Celine was cradling her, with her arms and tails. She would have pulled the tails away, gotten Rumi away from them, if not for the way she clutched at the tails.

When she lifted a hand from Rumi's shoulder to her mouth, she felt the impression of fangs through her skin. But nothing else. Her vision tunneled further. The pain was better, but still taking its toll.

"Why?" Celine asked.

"I ... lost my own kit, years ago," the Gumiho lied. "She was stolen from me, taken to where I could not go. I have lived here for some time. I knew of your kit. I could hardly wish the same pain upon you."

If Gumiho were such excellent tricksters, then why could Celine tell when she lied? This one was hiding something from her. Not telling the full truth.

"And If I wish to cure myself of this curse?" Celine asked. "What would you do?"

"I would teach you everything I knew. And," the gumiho swallowed, as if to claim that she could barely stand the the thought. "If I could not convince you not to, I would not stand in your way."

She eyed the gumiho suspiciously. “You didn’t move me?”

“I told Rumi we’d wait until you felt better,” she replied, with an awful, enigmatic, familiar smile. “And I doubt you’d want me carrying you, ae—“

The word fell off into thin air.

Celine couldn’t tell whether it was an intentional slip or not, a play to show her how much the gumiho cared and remind her that she still respected her boundaries, a too-many-layered headgame for her own aching brain to take.

She decided to ignore it, tapping at Rumi’s sides instead until her half-asleep k—until she woke up enough to slide off herself.

Tentatively, Celine sat up—her vision blurred briefly, pain ratcheting up until her stomach roiled, but it faded back to a manageable ache after a few moments. She summoned one of her swords and took another moment to fight the nausea of that exertion, before—

“Celine!”

—Rumi realized she was awake and barreled directly into her. Celine caught her with a grunt.

Rumi looked up at her with wide eyes. “Are you feeling better now?”

“Of course I am.” Celine pushed back her hair, breathing slowly and evenly. “I have you here, don’t I?”

Rumi huffed, too old for Celine’s silliness, but she didn’t let go, not even when Celine managed to wrangle all of her tails back away.

“Why don’t you help me get up and we can get you to bed?” Celine offered, looking around—it had been sunset when she got in, and it was full night now, noticeably colder. She supposed those damned tails were good for something, at least, if they’d kept Rumi from catching her death.

"But Celine," Rumi whined, in a manner that made Celine's ears pin back against her head.

Rumi barely paused before she shook her head.

“Then no,” Celine said. “I have no reason to.”

It didn’t seem to comfort her, but she didn’t have more to say—Celine pressed a quick kiss to her forehead and stepped back out again, shutting the door behind her.

She gestured for the gumiho to follow her, heading for the kitchen. “Would you like something to drink?”

What a mockery of hosting. She was surprised the earth didn’t start to shake beneath them, with how all of the Hunters outside must’ve been rolling in their graves.

“I couldn’t impose,” said the gumiho, behind her.

“Please,” Celine insisted, blankly running through the tracks of politeness.

“I—I would not mind some water,” she said, carefully.

“I plan on making tea,” Celine pointed out.

“Oh, then whatever you’re having is fine,” the gumiho deferred.

And so Celine made tea.

The gumiho did not mention what Rumi had said as she sipped. Celine made a mental note to tell Rumi to be careful in the morning, and decided not to strain her tired brain with what it might mean.

“Why don’t you tell me what you know?” the gumiho asked.

“I touched a soul bead, and since then… this,” Celine explained, gesturing to herself, seated sideways in a chair to allow the damned tails to have their space. That she neatly cut out Rumi’s involvement along with the rest of the details was intentional.

“So you know what a soul bead is, then?” the gumiho asked. There was something achingly familiar irritating about the tilt of her head, making the leading questions rankle her like a child.

Celine resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “A jade sphere which a gumiho holds within itself and acts as an anchor of demonic identity.”

“‘Anchor of demonic identity’?” the gumiho echoed. “I suppose that’s not an inaccurate description.”

“And how would you put it?” she asked, as the gumiho clearly wanted.

“It is the fox-self,” the gumiho said. “You can separate it, but it is the essential nature and the essence of the nature. Having it halfway is impossible to cope with.”

Excellent point @grundpfeiler

It’s a little like:

She supposes it was a mite rude, but no matter the gumiho's advanced age or venerable act (because it is an act, how could it be anything else?), it is still a gumiho, and cannot be trusted. Last night was a prime example.

She had tried until the clock chimed the new day to pry some useful, sensible information out of her, but all she'd gotten were logic-bending riddles about essences and natures and 'accepting the fox' which were too much for her battered mind to process. Sleep hadn't sifted any sense from them, leaving her convinced the gumiho was just trying to string her along until-

Well, she hadn't figured that out yet, but time reveals all if one watches for the signs.

So she watches the gumiho, suspiciously, as she turns to Rumi. "Soyi-nim is sufficient." Then, to the gumiho: "We don't call people things they aren't in this house."

A wounded expression pinches the gumiho's face, and the Fox in her nips and whimpers.

(and something in her human soul cries as well)

She ignores both as Rumi nods, apologizes, then recovers and leads Celine to the table, talking a mile a minute, and watches her fill a plate, insisting she "try that one!" and "that one!" and "that one!"

She finds herself taking seconds, then thirds. Calling on the Honmoon for weapons and strength and healing depleted one's energy in the worst way, so she was grateful that, for the first time in a long time, she could freely sate the hunger gnawing at her stomach.

Plus it's a good breakfast. Filling. And...familiar. The dishes- they're ones she makes for Rumi all the time, but the taste...it tingles pleasantly on her tongue and sends the Fox yipping and cavorting in delight. The pajeon especially.

She finds she keeps going back to that platter, and every time she takes a bite-

Air creek-cool and smelling of mountain wind. Dew dampening her shirt as she lay on her belly in the grass. An ant weaving across the dirt. A beautiful lady whose image made her heart sing calling her inside and setting a plate of favorite pajeon in front of her.

"Eat up, my kit."

It had to be a trick. If Soyi had planted the soul bead within the hanok, then perhaps she could have—

Soyi couldn't have planted the bead. Rumi had shown her the box in the office that she had found it in. It was a box that had been kept in the office of the Hunter's hanok since she was a trainee. A box she had never received a satisfying explanation for, but by the time Rumi came around, entirely forgotten about.

A small, traitorous part of her wants to believe that the memory could be real. But ... it would mean too much, if it were. She would be a demon raising a demon, the daughter of her enemy, not a Hunter raising a Hunter, the daughter of her ally and companion.

"Celine?" Rumi asks, concern in her voice. "Are you okay?"

She can reflect on this later, when Rumi is working through her lessons, unable to be disturbed by worries not her own.

"Just memories, Rumi-ya," Celine dismisses, as she stands.

She catches her reflection in a mirror. Her ears stick up from her head, with red patterns crawling down her arms and up her face. Her eyes are golden. Celine scowls, and shoves the fox back down within. But when she tries to separate the fox from herself, the hands that attempt to do so are clawed.

With concentration, the patterns retreat some and her eyes are human again. But the ears are still inhuman. Her tails thrash in irritation, alerting her to the fact that they too are out. Celine tries a second time to will the fox spirit back down within herself. It does not work.

She cannot re-assert her human form. Panic sticks in her throat. She tries again, and almost drops the dishes she is carrying when she still cannot become human once more.

The knock sounds again, louder.

“I can’t answer the door this way,” she says.

“Indeed?” the gumiho asks, her own demonic features fading into a pleasant, older woman.

“I won’t be out of earshot,” Celine warns her.

The gumiho tilts her head. “For what?”

Celine can’t stop the way her lip curls, the fox playfully snapping back even as she gets truly annoyed. “Just go. Rumi, stay here.”

Their visitor knocks again. “Celine!”

Celine’s knees go weak at the familiar voice, so fucking familiar—years without her and still so, so familiar. Like one part of her soul, come back to her again, and all she feels is the cold rush of fear, a whine slipping from her throat as the gumiho slips out and she begs for any way to stop this before it all comes together, two things equal and opposite, never surviving contact—there could be no way.

No no no no no.

But she’s frozen, leaning on the counter, fox and woman alike straining against the idea of the gumiho opening that door.

But it still slides open.

“Well, hello. Celine isn’t quite up to visitors right now.”

A. Executive Dysfunction B. I write slow C. Improv in general I'm not good at. D. I am not the best at collaborative writing in general.

But I think I can do a "Yes And" without breaking everyone's momentum here so…

Okay my favorite version of half gumiho!Celine personally is that she has significant memory loss even if she gets her tails back, so please imagine:

Celine takes the bead, it physically melts onto her, she full-on transforms… and goes “hm, that’s nice,” grabs Rumi with her tails to snuggle back up, and rolls right over to sleep again

No idea what happened. No idea why she feels so much more whole and alive when she wakes up than she has… ever. No idea where the fucking demon traits came from

Is this some kind of curse????

And meanwhile toddler Rumi just knows that the Honmoon was very happy when all of this happened, so clearly it was good, so she was perfectly chill having fox mom snuggles the night before—but she can show Celine the box! In the office! That she probably wasn’t supposed to touch…

But the sources have to be wrong because then that would mean shes- That would mean her mentors- No. That cant be true. It just cant be. There has too be something else.

Whatever the truth, the resolution to her problem is obvious. Find the soul bead, lock it back up, and exercise the most rigorous self control she's ever managed in order to cure herself. How a gumiho's soul bead affected her she couldn't figure out. But it didn't matter. She knew what to do. It would be tricky, to be sure. Starving herself without Rumi realizing what was happening. If she could, she would have hidden the entire ordeal from her. Gumihos and Jeoseung Saja were different, even if they were both demons. Jeoseung Saja couldn't be turned human, especially not by starvation. She couldn't bear the thought of her daughter suffering from that awful clawing from within. Rumi needed to stay focused on the Golden Honmoon.

But in order to lock away the soul bead, or whatever cursed thing did this to her, she would first have to find it. She knows, from Rumi's descriptions of the 'pretty pebble I found that reminds me of you, eomma' that it at least superficially resembles a soul bead. She knows it's color (jade, with lighter swirls), size (approximately 2 cm in diameter) and shape, she knows where Rumi gave it to her (in bed). Try as she might, she could not find the cursed object. And Rumi was there, watching, when the first transformation. Even had Celine found the bead that first morning, there could have been no hiding it from Rumi.

The fox that has taken up residence inside her is delighted by Rumi. It takes every opportunity it can to wrap around her, calling her its kit. She can't tell if it's the demonic nature of the fox (not her nature, never hers) that sees its own kind in Rumi, if it simply assumed that she was Rumi's mother, or if it was preying on her worst desire, to take Mi-yeong's place. It claws for control, snarling its way out of her skin with such ferocity that she fears for Rumi. But it is always softer with her than it is to Celine. Rumi never seems to realize the threat, always cuddling and stroking soft fur in childish wonder.

Even if Rumi seems to love the fox that has infested her, even if the Honmoon isn't torn by her presence, even if she feels better now (more alive, more whole) than she can ever recall, she knows this is dangerous. How good it seems can only indicate that it must be a trap. Something to wear down her careful guard.

She bars Rumi from her room unless she is there with her. She can't risk this taking her too. Rumi is always banned when she turns the room inside out, hunting for that cursed bead. She searches, time and time again. Worry forms a tight ball behind her chest as she continues to go without finding it, day after day, and week after week, but she shoves it down inside each time.

She learns, not to live with it, but how to manage a holding pattern. The fox is locked within her as deep as she can force it, for as long as she can hold it, until it bursts back out. She tried once, briefly, foolishly, to coexist with it, but after how intensely the Honmoon reacted when she sang a lullaby to Rumi with the fox's tails wrapped around her, Celine learned better.

And then there is a tear. Not the first since the curse, but the worst in several years. She can still summon her ssang-geom, she checked that first, frightening morning (and still checks, every night). She kisses Rumi on the forehead and promises to return, before leaving Rumi in the saferoom.

Even from miles away, Celine can feel the bleeding pain of the Honmoon. She speeds. She has been suppressing the fox for too long, keeping it at bay for public appearances and her own piece of mind. She can't afford to let it slip during the fight. She beats it back and concentrates on driving, suppressing the urge to growl.

Once at the tear, she throws herself into the fight. Demons are swarming through the hole in the Honmoon, and she will not let them take a single soul tonight. She has plenty of pent-up energy from everything from dealing with the label to her ongoing curse.

Her ears twitch and she hears the crunch of feet on gravel, and spins, extending one blade before she has the time to process it. One of her ssang-geom passes through a demon, banishing it. It had managed to sneak up on her. She shouldn't have even heard those footsteps, but she's lucky she did.

The fight continues, and until she slays the last demon and seals the tear, she does not get a chance to breathe. And when she does, she feels alive, alive in a way that she hasn't since Mi-yeong died and two-thirds of her soul were taken from her.

So quick, in fact, that she hadn’t had time to figure out how to make all of her foxness… go away. But right now the horrid fox spirit inside of her was on the same page as she was for once: Rumi. She had to get to Rumi.

The tear in the Honmoon was small. Celine easily sliced through the stragglers, who all seemed to be running…back to the portal.

That’s when she rounded a corner and came face to face with a demon she had never seen before. It was a fox, but it was massive. Silvery fur glistened in the low light, yellow eyes like molten sunlight locked with hers, long white teeth bared, hackles raised, numerous tails swept around something. The beast growled at the newcomer with terrible fury.

Just as Celine readied her blades, a figure ducked under one of the fluffy silver tails and raced around the large animal.

“Wait!” Rumi cried, her little hands waving desperately for Celine to stand down.

Celine paused in shock. And even more surprisingly, so did the giant fox.

“She saved me,” Rumi explained, pointing to the silver fox.

Celine eyed Rumi with confusion, feeling her new ears react to her frown. “She…saved…”

The giant fox’s body shuddered, then shifted. Spirals of gold light enveloped its form, and in the blink of an eye, a woman stood before them. A woman who also bore pointed fluffy ears and golden eyes, scarlet patterns painted across her cheeks and arms.

But she would have looked like Celine even without those traits.

“Rumi,” she said carefully, “go inside. Now.”

But Rumi did not go inside, setting her jaw. “Why?”

“The grown-ups need to have a talk,” Celine said carefully, adjusting her grip on her swords.

The fox spirit howled inside of her as the gumiho wilted, stuttering back as she must’ve realized her scheme wouldn’t work.

“Aegiya, please,” the gumiho started.

Celine stared at her icily, daring her to—her vision whited out with a new pulse of pain, something trying desperately to claw loose, and she couldn’t help but gasp, curling forward.

Warm hands pressed comfortingly, familiarly, at her forehead and the back of her neck, and the fox spirit pressed her head into leaning into the touch, even as Rumi raced to cling to Celine’s legs.

Celine barely even noticed her tails wrapping around Rumi as she shouldered away the gumiho, scowling. “Get away from me.”

Her heart—the fox spirit’s heart hurt at the look on the gumiho’s face, and Celine refused to think anything of it.

The first is a voice like the wind in the summer leaves, brushing against her ears like thistledown. This makes no sense because it's very much not Rumi's voice and it just as much can't be the gumiho's; if it were, it wouldn't be sending warmth sighing across her skin and slackening her muscles.

The second is a whine, high and pained and grating. This makes no sense because it sounds- no, it feels- like it's coming from her; there's a tightness in her throat that pinches the air threading through it so it cries pathetically past her lips.

"I know, I know," the voice purred as the hands rubbed a circle between her shoulder blades, finding a knot and kneading it out. "Remembering hurts. Rumi will be back with something to help soon."

Another whine limped from her throat and she felt herself start to settle. She just wanted to sink into the touch; it felt good, so good, a favorite blanket but better, warmer, cozier, like it was wrapped around her soul-

No.

The fox was winning. That was the only explanation for why she felt so at ease with the demon. Panic surged and she shifted away from the gumiho's hands as she tried to beat it back.

(The fox yowled, and she felt its pain ripple through her).

(Ignore it).

"Aegiya, careful!" The gumiho reaches out as Celine gathered her legs under her to stagger to her feet. "You're not-"

"I'm fine!" Celine snarled, pushing herself to stand and reaching for the Honmoon. "Your only concern should be how fast you can run-"

It was like a demon's club had just split her skull.

"Hmmm" the gumiho said as she caught Celine and lowered her again to the ground, a smile in her voice. "I think I'll worry about that after my stubborn kit's feeling better."

There she was again, calling her 'kit.' Through the rippling pain Celine ran through all she'd read about gumiho, the tricks they played, the lies they told to try and coax their victims into complicitly. Feigning kinship after letting their true form be seen...was not one of them.

So then...

"I got it!" She cracked an eye to see Rumi racing from the hanok, arms full of a dripping cloth and ice pack (Honmoon, she hoped she closed the freezer this time) and tea towels and her favorite teddy bear. "I got the stuff to help Celine feel better!"

(The gumiho...wanted her to feel better?)

"Good job, Rumi-ya." Celine took pause from wondering if this gumiho had a death wish and cracked open an eye in time to see the gumiho give Rumi an affectionate pat on the head as she took the ice pack and wrapped it in a towel. "Once she's feeling up to it we'll get her inside, alright?"

She needs to figure this out, become wise to the game the gumiho is playing-

"Alright aegiya; it's going to be cold."

Which would be easier without trying to think around that whining.

Even if that look on her face—an attempt at hiding faking pain behind soft amusement—was achingly familiar, and only had the fox more upset.

“The more you fight it—“ she started, and Celine cut her off with a sharp glare.

“You have to fight the demon,” she snarled back.

The gumiho blinked. “You? Or I?”

It took a moment for Celine to understand, and another moment still to catch the odd phrasing and realize that Insuk-seonsaengnim had once said that to her. Said it to her often. Which didn’t make sense but…

“Shut up,” she retorted.

It felt childish even before Rumi said, “Celine, isn’t it bad to say that?”

The gumiho’s eyes lit up with mirth.

“It’s not the most polite,” Celine agreed, through gritted teeth, “but what’s the rule about being impolite?”

“Only do it on purpose,” Rumi recited.

Now, the gumiho looked about to burst out laughing, delighted.

She couldn't trust it with her ki—with her d—with Rumi. Rumi had to learn that demons could not be trusted, no matter how much they looked like friends or family. She could not trust the resemblance this gumiho had drawn between her and the false skin, no matter how comforting her presence had been. Especially because of how comforting it had been to the fox.

The gumiho's smile faded as quick as it appeared, but more than being insulted, she just looked pained. "Aegiya," she said.

Celine bared her teeth at the gumiho over Rumi's head. "Do not. Call me that."

"Celine," the gumiho ceded, clearly unhappy she had seen through her lies.

The fox inside her yowled in complaint, and her vision began to tunnel.

"What do you really want?" She didn't want to bargin with this demon, but she had no other choice. With her head like this, she would have a hard time fighting off Rumi, let alone a full-fledged gumiho. Even their young could inflict serious damage with their claws, she knew. "I won't help you steal souls, or feast on human flesh, so if that's your goal, you can forget it, and just fight me now. I won't be some tool for a demon, no matter what you offer."

"I want to help," the gumiho said, after a moment of indecision.

Everything in her was screaming not to trust this demon, to shut it out and bar the door. But she was so, so tired of fighting, and while the ice pack had helped, she could still only barely see without spots crowding the remainder of her vision.

"She really did help, Celine," Rumi volunteered from where Celine was cradling her, with her arms and tails. She would have pulled the tails away, gotten Rumi away from them, if not for the way she clutched at the tails.

When she lifted a hand from Rumi's shoulder to her mouth, she felt the impression of fangs through her skin. But nothing else. Her vision tunneled further. The pain was better, but still taking its toll.

"Why?" Celine asked.

"I ... lost my own kit, years ago," the Gumiho lied. "She was stolen from me, taken to where I could not go. I have lived here for some time. I knew of your kit. I could hardly wish the same pain upon you."

If Gumiho were such excellent tricksters, then why could Celine tell when she lied? This one was hiding something from her. Not telling the full truth.

"And If I wish to cure myself of this curse?" Celine asked. "What would you do?"

"I would teach you everything I knew. And," the gumiho swallowed, as if to claim that she could barely stand the the thought. "If I could not convince you not to, I would not stand in your way."

She eyed the gumiho suspiciously. “You didn’t move me?”

“I told Rumi we’d wait until you felt better,” she replied, with an awful, enigmatic, familiar smile. “And I doubt you’d want me carrying you, ae—“

The word fell off into thin air.

Celine couldn’t tell whether it was an intentional slip or not, a play to show her how much the gumiho cared and remind her that she still respected her boundaries, a too-many-layered headgame for her own aching brain to take.

She decided to ignore it, tapping at Rumi’s sides instead until her half-asleep k—until she woke up enough to slide off herself.

Tentatively, Celine sat up—her vision blurred briefly, pain ratcheting up until her stomach roiled, but it faded back to a manageable ache after a few moments. She summoned one of her swords and took another moment to fight the nausea of that exertion, before—

“Celine!”

—Rumi realized she was awake and barreled directly into her. Celine caught her with a grunt.

Rumi looked up at her with wide eyes. “Are you feeling better now?”

“Of course I am.” Celine pushed back her hair, breathing slowly and evenly. “I have you here, don’t I?”

Rumi huffed, too old for Celine’s silliness, but she didn’t let go, not even when Celine managed to wrangle all of her tails back away.

“Why don’t you help me get up and we can get you to bed?” Celine offered, looking around—it had been sunset when she got in, and it was full night now, noticeably colder. She supposed those damned tails were good for something, at least, if they’d kept Rumi from catching her death.

"But Celine," Rumi whined, in a manner that made Celine's ears pin back against her head.

Rumi barely paused before she shook her head.

“Then no,” Celine said. “I have no reason to.”

It didn’t seem to comfort her, but she didn’t have more to say—Celine pressed a quick kiss to her forehead and stepped back out again, shutting the door behind her.

She gestured for the gumiho to follow her, heading for the kitchen. “Would you like something to drink?”

What a mockery of hosting. She was surprised the earth didn’t start to shake beneath them, with how all of the Hunters outside must’ve been rolling in their graves.

“I couldn’t impose,” said the gumiho, behind her.

“Please,” Celine insisted, blankly running through the tracks of politeness.

“I—I would not mind some water,” she said, carefully.

“I plan on making tea,” Celine pointed out.

“Oh, then whatever you’re having is fine,” the gumiho deferred.

And so Celine made tea.

The gumiho did not mention what Rumi had said as she sipped. Celine made a mental note to tell Rumi to be careful in the morning, and decided not to strain her tired brain with what it might mean.

“Why don’t you tell me what you know?” the gumiho asked.

“I touched a soul bead, and since then… this,” Celine explained, gesturing to herself, seated sideways in a chair to allow the damned tails to have their space. That she neatly cut out Rumi’s involvement along with the rest of the details was intentional.

“So you know what a soul bead is, then?” the gumiho asked. There was something achingly familiar irritating about the tilt of her head, making the leading questions rankle her like a child.

Celine resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “A jade sphere which a gumiho holds within itself and acts as an anchor of demonic identity.”

“‘Anchor of demonic identity’?” the gumiho echoed. “I suppose that’s not an inaccurate description.”

“And how would you put it?” she asked, as the gumiho clearly wanted.

“It is the fox-self,” the gumiho said. “You can separate it, but it is the essential nature and the essence of the nature. Having it halfway is impossible to cope with.”

Excellent point @grundpfeiler

It’s a little like:

She supposes it was a mite rude, but no matter the gumiho's advanced age or venerable act (because it is an act, how could it be anything else?), it is still a gumiho, and cannot be trusted. Last night was a prime example.

She had tried until the clock chimed the new day to pry some useful, sensible information out of her, but all she'd gotten were logic-bending riddles about essences and natures and 'accepting the fox' which were too much for her battered mind to process. Sleep hadn't sifted any sense from them, leaving her convinced the gumiho was just trying to string her along until-

Well, she hadn't figured that out yet, but time reveals all if one watches for the signs.

So she watches the gumiho, suspiciously, as she turns to Rumi. "Soyi-nim is sufficient." Then, to the gumiho: "We don't call people things they aren't in this house."

A wounded expression pinches the gumiho's face, and the Fox in her nips and whimpers.

(and something in her human soul cries as well)

She ignores both as Rumi nods, apologizes, then recovers and leads Celine to the table, talking a mile a minute, and watches her fill a plate, insisting she "try that one!" and "that one!" and "that one!"

She finds herself taking seconds, then thirds. Calling on the Honmoon for weapons and strength and healing depleted one's energy in the worst way, so she was grateful that, for the first time in a long time, she could freely sate the hunger gnawing at her stomach.

Plus it's a good breakfast. Filling. And...familiar. The dishes- they're ones she makes for Rumi all the time, but the taste...it tingles pleasantly on her tongue and sends the Fox yipping and cavorting in delight. The pajeon especially.

She finds she keeps going back to that platter, and every time she takes a bite-

Air creek-cool and smelling of mountain wind. Dew dampening her shirt as she lay on her belly in the grass. An ant weaving across the dirt. A beautiful lady whose image made her heart sing calling her inside and setting a plate of favorite pajeon in front of her.

"Eat up, my kit."

It had to be a trick. If Soyi had planted the soul bead within the hanok, then perhaps she could have—

Soyi couldn't have planted the bead. Rumi had shown her the box in the office that she had found it in. It was a box that had been kept in the office of the Hunter's hanok since she was a trainee. A box she had never received a satisfying explanation for, but by the time Rumi came around, entirely forgotten about.

A small, traitorous part of her wants to believe that the memory could be real. But ... it would mean too much, if it were. She would be a demon raising a demon, the daughter of her enemy, not a Hunter raising a Hunter, the daughter of her ally and companion.

"Celine?" Rumi asks, concern in her voice. "Are you okay?"

She can reflect on this later, when Rumi is working through her lessons, unable to be disturbed by worries not her own.

"Just memories, Rumi-ya," Celine dismisses, as she stands.

She catches her reflection in a mirror. Her ears stick up from her head, with red patterns crawling down her arms and up her face. Her eyes are golden. Celine scowls, and shoves the fox back down within. But when she tries to separate the fox from herself, the hands that attempt to do so are clawed.

With concentration, the patterns retreat some and her eyes are human again. But the ears are still inhuman. Her tails thrash in irritation, alerting her to the fact that they too are out. Celine tries a second time to will the fox spirit back down within herself. It does not work.

She cannot re-assert her human form. Panic sticks in her throat. She tries again, and almost drops the dishes she is carrying when she still cannot become human once more.

The knock sounds again, louder.

“I can’t answer the door this way,” she says.

“Indeed?” the gumiho asks, her own demonic features fading into a pleasant, older woman.

“I won’t be out of earshot,” Celine warns her.

The gumiho tilts her head. “For what?”

Celine can’t stop the way her lip curls, the fox playfully snapping back even as she gets truly annoyed. “Just go. Rumi, stay here.”

Their visitor knocks again. “Celine!”

Celine’s knees go weak at the familiar voice, so fucking familiar—years without her and still so, so familiar. Like one part of her soul, come back to her again, and all she feels is the cold rush of fear, a whine slipping from her throat as the gumiho slips out and she begs for any way to stop this before it all comes together, two things equal and opposite, never surviving contact—there could be no way.

No no no no no.

But she’s frozen, leaning on the counter, fox and woman alike straining against the idea of the gumiho opening that door.

But it still slides open.

“Well, hello. Celine isn’t quite up to visitors right now.”

A. Executive Dysfunction B. I write slow C. Improv in general I'm not good at. D. I am not the best at collaborative writing in general.

But I think I can do a "Yes And" without breaking everyone's momentum here so…

Summer (aka "Evil Stepmother") I won't even try to guess how it lands. We just don't have enough information. But the getting across the information to the audience - Summer working with Salem out the "Evil" in there and the fact that Yang seemingly takes strongly from Summer in at least some aspects of her personality and her legitimately being an excellent mother to Yang gets across it's not that simple.

Her relationship with her daughters at the end of everything - very up in the air. But RWBY is a hopeful series, and acknowledgement of harm done, a true atonement in not doing it again... You can't change the past but a better tomorrow is possible. (See the Schnees as messy and scarred as that family is. And actually Yang and Ruby's conversation about Yang having messed up, resolving to do better in the future and the two moving on)

Raven- okay she's the one that I think I have the best read on. There's a lot of tension in Raven and her fear. Something that may have to be handled slightly carefully as separate from her issues with Oz as she was proven right about him lying and keeping secrets. And there's still the unfired untested "Only One Save" rule.

Same as Summer - acknowledgement of harm done + sincere work into making amends and not repeating the same behavior can equal new starts in relationships and the narrative has already did Yang tearing into Raven. A bit more details into what happened with Summer but...

Look at least with Yang the problem with Raven appears to be primarily that she's an emotional coward. It gets complicated with the other stuff - but the setup is there for her to finally beat that. Whether Yang wants a new start would be in the air but Raven taking the plunge, that I'm confident in.

The audience is all onboard for Raven having messed up - getting across when she hasn't probably is a tougher sell.

Taiyang - Okay, he's the character that I personally think needs an obvious clue by four to the audience that he messed up because man, the information we're getting hasn't been cutting it. He's not a monster like Jaques but that makes it more difficult to get across it seems. And the character has to be aware of the problem to l fix it (Or refuse to fix it. Or refuse to acknowledge the problem but I don't think Tai is set up got either of those two)

If Summer is the one that is uncertain as whether she done sorry for the actions she took, or not sorry she took them but sorry that they harmed her girls, while Raven is the one most solidly in "Yeah I fucked up" at this point, Tai is the one that i don't know if he's realized he has. And I'm honestly curious as to how RWBY as a show would have that hit.

Though I am not discounting Summer versus Taiyang with a very messy divorce fight. (Look I really like the idea of Summer as Yang's mother being reminded like that because while the characters draw Raven -> Yang and Summer -> Ruby comparisons the show has displayed a pointedly strong resemblance between Summer and Yang.)

mmm. i think the Dead Mom / Neglectful Father / Evil Stepmother paradigm is an interesting angle to consider the possible outcomes for raven / tai / summer from because all of these archetypes have loose archetypal endings; the heroine prevails through the dead mom’s aid, the evil stepmother is often punished, the neglectful father is…there. 

rwby is pointedly not a punitive narrative, and it’s also pointedly not a narrative where male and female characters are handled any differently in terms of complexity/development/seriousness. but: the “dead” mom is in vacuo now, lending her aid to the desperate last stand.

with summer there’s the additional complication of her being the evil stepmother in the rose xiao long family narrative and also the good stepmother in cinder’s narrative, wherein the madame functions as a dead mom whose cruelty haunts cinder rather than helping her and rhodes as a neglectful father. whether rwby’s archetypal stepmother is “evil” or “good” is therefore a matter of perspective; unlike the fairytale stepmother she isn’t abusive, only on the opposite side of a war from her own children, and one of the clever ways rwby subverts the archetype is that the stepmother chooses the child who is not her own. i.e., cinder. 

thus the immediate narrative challenge posed to summer—and tai as well, if i’m on the mark about what he’s been up to—is that cinder killed yang and ruby, or at least claims she couldn’t stop neopolitan from doing so. 

and that’s interesting because summer has been with salem for fourteen years now and had all that time to really think about what she’s doing and why and what it may cost her; her part in RLR2 is so anguished precisely because she is self-aware that she has left her daughters behind to face the storm she and salem intend to unleash. she has known, for a long time, that they might be killed by this war—salem does what she can to spare them, but things happen. 

so summer made a conscious decision to accept that risk, out of strong moral conviction that the divine plan for the world must be ended and salem must be set free. but tai?

say tai discovered the truth about summer shortly before or very soon after the fall of beacon. he’s spent the last twelve or thirteen years grieving for her, and his natural inclination based on what he knows about salem from ozpin will be to assume that summer is badly misguided—that salem has deceived or threatened or otherwise done something to her to force her to obey. thus the idea of ‘saving’ her and his reason for keeping his mouth shut: he doesn’t dare breathe a word to anyone lest salem find out that summer has been compromised / decide she is no longer useful and dispense with her.

of course to summer whatever liaisons she may be having with tai are both a comfort—her only other social interaction during this time are periodic and perfunctory seer calls with salem—and an opportunity to gather information. the reality is that salem will be either indifferent or pleased depending upon how useful tai proves as an unwitting informant. 

but prior to salem+cinder’s arrival at beacon it would be easy for tai to construct this alternative story wherein summer is really a victim of salem’s machinations who must be protected until she can be rescued; she is, after all, not doing anything much but holding the fort at beacon whilst searching for the vault, and we have seen that summer can slip on masks to hide her true self when she needs to. she’s lied to him before for the sake of doing what she felt was right; she can do it again.

the intuitive breaking point here is for salem and cinder to deliver the news that yang and ruby are dead, or fallen out of remnant depending on how much more detail salem may have coaxed out of cinder in the interim; for summer to sit in her private grief for a moment and then choose, as she has chosen every day for the last fourteen years, to press on; and for tai to see that. to be confronted in some undeniable way with the reality that summer is here because she believes down to her soul that salem is right.

(coughs in fractal ozlem. summer is the ozma who—literally—chose to take salem’s hand; tai, the salem who refused to leave the tower.)

like—does he stay, even then? if his daughters are already gone when the truth clobbers him upside the head, then it’s too late to make things right by changing course; is tai the kind of person with the backbone to walk away from the love for whom he rationalized abandoning his kids after circumstances force him to see clearly the choice he made, or does he hold onto her all the harder for having nothing else left to lose. 

and how does summer feel about that? if the foundation of who she is is her ironclad conviction, and tai’s is that he would sacrifice anything to stay with her, how does she truly see him? 

this is really the fundamental contrast between ozlem and tai/summer and why i’m certain that ozlem are on a path toward romantic reconciliation but skeptical that the same is true for tai and summer: ozlem broke apart because both of them are driven by profound moral conviction and came to blows over an intractable ideological disagreement about what the right thing to do is. they are, in every respect, equals. whereas the fundamental conflict between tai and summer—presuming that i’m on the mark as to why she joined salem—is that she has all the conviction and he has none. 

if he does stay even through the razing of vale then he can no longer act under the illusion that he isn’taligning himself with salem’s side of this war, which is an interesting thing to put him through that must surely lead to some serious soul-searching; and then the next obvious point of inflection is learning that team rwby returned from the ever after and are alive and well in vacuo. what then?

altogether it does set up a number of interesting paths forward for tai by playing him off of summer and utilizing that relationship to surface the good-vs-right / wrong-vs-evil quandary that the two sides of this war represent. summer herself is also sort of an ideal character to take him to task for neglecting their daughters, because her choice to leave them behind was predicated on an assumption that tai would take good care of them.

(i have to assume that a woman willing to set the world on fire for the sake of wrestling the keys to eschaton away from the divine chosen one is also a mother willing to kidnap her own children if she knew their father was letting the five-year-old “pick up the pieces.” although the thought of what yang and ruby would be like if summer and salem had raised them is both hysterical and terrifying.)

i do think the endgame as far as the rose-xiao long-branwen family is everyone at least on cordial terms; the inevitable peace negotiation offers ample opportunity for smaller interpersonal reconciliations and reevaluation of individual relationships. the brokenness of this family cannot be extricated from the war that tore it apart. 

for summer to sit in her private grief for a moment and then choose, as she has chosen every day for the last fourteen years, to press on;

Because that does bring into focus for me that, everyone has reason to think team RWBY dead. Some may have more reason to think gone is more temporary than others, or more hopeful that no one knows what the rules of the place was so MIA not being known to be dead... But yeah, survival was not likely. And I'm just looking at how its funny that this would mean that there is a reversal of fortune from how Red Like Roses Part 2 was taken. Specifically the final verse.

Voice 2: You're not the only one who needed me; I thought you understood/ Voice 1: You were the one I needed, and you left me as I always feared you would/ Voice 2: Would I change it if I could?/ Both voices: It doesn't matter how/ The petals scatter now/ Every nightmare just discloses/ It's your blood that's red like roses/

like this doesn't feel like a simple 'witnessed your friend die a horrible death and now you're traumatized', this feels personal on some level, and my mind keeps going back to war, a song about friendship and betrayal, 'turned from family to full-on despised', 'put my trust in you right from the start' -> "if i do this right, there's nothing to worry about. trust me." etc.

there's also, like, the fact that the whole 'they never said summer was dead' thing still applies. i really don't see her actually being dead. missing an eye? sure. dead or even fully grimmified like the hound? nah.

kinda starting to think that this isn't just a qrow thing, either, but encompasses all of strq, actually:

First Verse: ‘Never really had a problem with you/ All along I thought our friendship was true/ Put my trust in you right from the start/ I never dreamed that you would be/ my enemy, the knife to take my heart/’ ‘You screwed me in the perfect way/ A friend betrayed/ Just another mourner/ content to follow orders/ Leave behind your conscience/ abandon those who need you most/ convince yourself you’re noble/ but we both know it’s not so‘ ‘But if you cross my battle line you’ll find you’ll be sorry that you tried‘ Putting this into more detail ‘Never really had a problem with you/ All along I thought our friendship was true/ Put my trust in you right from the start/ I never dreamed that you would be/ my enemy, the knife to take my heart/’

Alright so RWBY vs ACEOPS hits clearly. If we take it to Team STRQ... well here’s the thing with Raven leaving. She only left. Being mad at leaving Taiyang and Yang (possibly Summer) as well as Qrow? Yeah that’s a betrayal of a kind but it’s different than being an enemy. The betrayal was sudden - when uh yeah Raven having issues was known. That said that the

‘You screwed me in the perfect way/ A friend betrayed/ Just another mourner/ content to follow orders/ Leave behind your conscience/ abandon those who need you most/

(Unknown Perspective)Convince yourself you’re noble/ but we both know it’s not so‘ Alright so this first verse is the easiest to tie to the ACEOPS. This above section can be taken note for note a description of abandoning Mantle. Except it’s “You screwed ME” - the song itself is taking to a very granular level. This is where the fact that the structure of the song itself is very much two people. We BOTH know it’s not so. This is a conversation between two people, and at least one of them thinks that the other betrayed them. Taking it to STRQ - the thing is that Raven is a third party in the conflict. She’s running her own side - following orders is not the accusation you’d throw at her. Bowing to blackmail, desire for power, or sheer cowardice sure. Which is what is notable about this is that the accuser of the betrayal is also accusing of following orders. This is also the bit of the song that may or may not have multiple perspectives. Because Convince yourself you’re noble - fits as a rejoinder to an accusation of abandoning those who need you. And notably both Raven and Summer who joined Salem would be ripe for that accusation. Raven drew attention that Summer just left. (Unknown Perspective) ‘But if you cross my battle line you’ll find you’ll be sorry that you tried‘ What’s the battle line? RWBY vs AceOps we do know what it is - but the latter portions of the song does not fit that perspective. Also again - fits as a two person conversation. “Don’t cross the line - and nothing happens” Chorus: ‘If it’s war that you want then you got it/ If it’s pain well I brought what you need/ If it’s true what you say you’re the best then let’s play/ You won’t believe it/ Until you see it/ when I kick your ass and look you in the eye/ With a smile and a cheerful heart I’ll turn to you and wave/ Goodbye‘ Again - two person conversation. And honestly it does feel like there’s an implied fight between the second and third verse. Second Verse:

‘I’ll be honest I was plenty surprised/ Turned from family to full-on despised/ Just like you to take the coward’s way out/ A book of lies with no replies/ this diatribe’s your victory no doubt/ You knew the cruelest things to say/ Then ran away/ Filled with spite and juandiced/ Like Judas thereupon kissed/ Just a mindless weapon/ pointed at an enemy/ A simple tool  providing someone else with victory/

 /Now that you crossed my battle line/ it’s time that I blow your little mind’ Okay so this is a verse that is actually really hard to tie to the RWBY vs ACEOPS fight. Sure the two were friends but they were not family by any stretch. And the tone of the fight is incredibly personal.

Alright now to expound on what I mean about there being two perspectives. This diatribe’s your victory no doubt Diatribe: A forceful and bitter verbal attack against someone or something. That line makes the most sense as a response to the song. Verse 3 is when you really can see the two perspectives responding. But that line doesn’t make sense for a singular perspective. It’s someone else cutting in. And I can’t tell if they just cut in this verse, for a line, more than that or if they were cutting in from verse 1.  So here’s the thing with the Judas reference. It’s not only referencing him as a traitor but him identifying Jesus with a kiss to the Romans. Someone lead someone. Raven leading Summer to Salem fits. But also Raven was hiding from Salem later as we saw in volume 5. And of course the reference to volume 2′s opening which is very much an implication against OZ. So it works from either side of “Following Orders - I thought that was what you complained about” or Raven Branwen “I looked into things myself”. Ran away/Coward’s way out-> Fits perfectly as aimed at Raven but again I can’t tell whether or not there’s perspective switching here. And the final line of the verse is a follow up of the first. Chorus Final Verse: Perspective One: Farewell my friend/ I really must give you the credit/ You achieved a goal/ perhaps the first time in your life you felt control/ Perspective Two: ‘I’ll never trust the same/ I’ll see friendship as just another game/

Perspective One: Full of winners and losers/

         I really do think Lilith kind of latched onto Belos almost as a parental figure of sorts, or at least a form of authority who’d give her validation- Because in a way, he DID…

         Belos CHOSE to appoint Lilith as his head witch! He trusted her with that, he recognized her power. Lilith’s initiation into his coven was always suspect because Eda forfeited, so Lilith never got to properly prove herself… But in the coven, there is no technicality that we know of. Belos can be very perceptive of what goes on in his castle…

         He’s not going to be nice without reason, he’s not going to fool himself- Belos only ever has the highest standards. The fact that he chose Lilith above all others is basically Belos telling Lilith that he recognizes Lilith’s skill and potential as above all others in his coven, which… As the Emperor, as the most skilled witch alive, THAT says a lot and would mean the world to Lilith.

         Cissy basically confirmed that Lilith’s power is no delusion, she WAS that great as a witch, and so far the show hasn’t really contradicted her on this. But Gwen’s neglect made Lilith only ever judge her merit in relation to Eda, which is damaging and ridiculous because Eda is the most powerful witch in the isles… Lilith was probably about the THIRD most powerful witch, but it’s never enough if she’s beneath Eda!

         When her own parents failed to give Lilith validation over her own ability, it was Belos, of all people, who did…

         And the worst part? I suspect Belos may have seen Lilith almost as a kindred soul to take under his wing. Someone he sort of understood, a poor confused kid that reminded him of himself, and just needed some guidance. Yeah, Lilith had her own personal interests overriding her devotion to his ideals, but like;