#darthplodder

Debating doing this but not sure if I’ll have time- how much needs to be written by the first draft and second author check in? I’ll have more time in the summer than I do now so- sorry if this was answered somewhere else!

Thank you!

Oh man, how I could go on about why Obi-Wan is the best. This is the man who just loves so deeply, who is unfailingly dedicated to duty and is constantly struggling to reconcile the two. This is a man who just tries so hard and yet never lets on just how much he’s hurting. This is a man who is just so GOOD in so many ways. There are so many times he could have given up but didn’t.

He’s also completely ridiculous. I’m having a hard time restricting it to just three but here goes.

#1 - The sass. The flirting. The inadvertent seduction! Honestly, even as Old Ben he was pulling out the charm (although it appeared to be somewhat less effective than when he had the swooshiest of hair)! As long as Obi-Wan is breathing he’s using that silver tongue to try and make things go his way! Also do NOT get me started on the “from a certain point of view” thing AKA “how tiny Crow got hooked on the art of the half truth thanks to Star Wars”.

#2 - The dramatic appearances. Even his “stealthy hooded figure” entrances are completely over the top, like HOW has he ever completed a secret mission (I suspect it’s his stupidly high charisma score see point 1)? And then we have the flippy acrobatics and windswept posing on top of cliffs and... do I really need to go further?

#3 - The way he has absolutely and completely self sacrificing when it comes to those he cares about. He’s willing to give up whatever it takes to make them happy, even at his own expense and never say a word. And then there are the more obvious demonstrations. Here is a cool and composed Jedi Master except oh no, you threatened his loved ones and now he will see your threat ENDED. Zero chill. Internally at least. 

See? Completely ridiculous and THE BEST.

1. Favorite pizza topping I am not generally a fan of pizza, I ate too much of it in college and ruined it for myself.  If I have to pick, green olives.

2. Favorite fanfic genre Is fluff a genre?  I like fluff.  I almost always prefer canon!verse, with a few exceptions.  Like Pacific Rim aus.  Is that a genre?

3. Favorite Star Wars character AHSOKA FUCKING TANO

4. Favorite bird Red tailed hawk! Exhibit A:

5.  winter or summer? Summerrrrrr I love the heat* give me all the heat please.  *Dry heat that is, humidity is not my friend

6.  Lake or ocean? I am a being of air and fire, water does not suit me. If I must pick, ocean.  I like listening to waves.

7.  Forest or desert? Hard choice, but probably forest.  I love the shade and the quiet and the trees.

8.  Favorite sound track Ooh.  Ladyhawke.  Gotta love some 80s techno-fantasy.

9.  Best park you’ve ever been to? Hanging out in a city park in Munich was rather excellent.  To a mountain child who mostly knows pine forests, that was like wandering in Mirkwood.  Absolutely brilliant.

10.  Best name for a pet you can think of? I don’t know, I’m still pretty pleased with my rat duo Huckleberry and Finn.

11.  What would you bring to a picnic? Is this like, a potluck picnic?  Because then from-scratch brownies.  I make some hecka good brownies.  If just a picnic I’m packing for myself, cold cuts and bread, maybe some chips or some cheese to munch on.

33) What’s the biggest compliment you’ve gotten?

Literally every time someone tells me that my version of characterization is now someone’s personal canon.  It makes my life.

48) What’s your favourite trope to write?

Uh-- I’m honestly not sure.  LOL!  Not-friends to friends or lovers?

49) Can you remember the first fic you read? What was it about?

I don’t know if it was actually the very first, but it was a Red Dwarf/Battlestar Galactica crossover and to this day, I still love it.

Anakin hadn’t seen the blaster fire coming, but Obi-Wan had.

The worn-down oldspacer was a death trap—in dangerous disrepair and leaking noxious gas—but theyneeded the data chip from its internal computer. Obi-Wan, Siri and theirpadawans deduced that the best way to enter was a tiny hatch at the top, and asboth the smallest and the most mechanically inclined, Anakin seemed the obviouschoice for the job.  His face had lit upwith pride when Obi-Wan agreed. He was thirteen and a half now, and feltwonderful to have an important job to do.

Anakin had skillfully clambered up to the top of the ship’shull, then paused to adjust his rebreather before scurrying down the hatch andinto the monstrous craft. That’s when Obi-Wan had spotted cloaked figure appearon top of the ship and slip down after him.

Something primal and desperate in Obi-Wan set his legs inmotion. 

Without a lick of hesitation or even a glance towards his companions, Obi-Wan charged towards the ship, igniting his saber to deflect the bolts coming at him. Siri and Ferus were forced to betray their position to cover him, and began to take out the attackers while Obi-Wan deployed his cable launcher to haul himself up.

Anakin was intent on his mission, hunched over a dataprocessor and completely focused. He wasn’t sparing much attention on hissurroundings. He never knew the bolt was coming, but Obi-Wan’s blurry visionsaw the flash of blue.

Anakin felt his master’s hand yank him backwards by the hoodof his robe. Then he saw the bolt ricochet of the wall, heard a scream andfound himself on the ground once again as Obi-Wan sunk to his knees. Anakinignited his saber, but the attacker disappeared into another chamber of theship and Anakin did not pursue.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan rasped. He was kneeling against the dataprocessor and laboring hard to breathe. “Tell me you’re not hit.”

2) COOKING

Answered here.

3) SLEEPING

Looking back, it was somewhat amusing. As a Padawan, he was able to fall asleep instantly, no matter the noise, the setting, or even the temperature. Qui-gon had accused him of being part Lothcat, given his ability to lightly nap in any situation.

It was not a skill that had carried past his adolescence. Indeed, now Obi-wan was prone to awful bouts of insomnia, and the war demanded so much that he often eschewed sleep in favor of other tasks. The corridors of a Star Destroyer were somehow peaceful (oh, but what a contradiction that was!) at the odd hours of the morning, and Obi-wan often found himself chatting with the graveyard shift workers, or sitting in the cafeteria with a cup of tea, completing what seemed to be a never-ending ream of Council paperwork.

In his earlier days, he had often joked that “He would sleep when he was with one with the Force.” The quiver of a lip from a very young Anakin Skywalker had stopped him from repeating that mantra too often, though.

When Obi-wan truly slept, however - well, it was an experience. He would wake up, tangled in his sheets, with distant memories of colorful dreams of another life - of happiness, of ease. But the images faded before he could grasp them, leaving the Jedi with a deep melancholy. No, it was better not to sleep, to not risk the chance of dreams.

16) ANGER

He does not consider himself an angry man. At least, not on the surface.

He is Obi-wan Kenobi. The Negotiator.

Snippy, sarcastic, occasionally ill-tempered - yes, all of those could be true - from a certain point of view, at least.

But he was a Jedi. He adhered to the Code. Released his emotions into the Force.

At least, that was the lie he told himself every day.

Because he was angry. Nearly abandoned to a life of farming on Bandomeer, he had had to fight for Qu-gon’s approval again and again, until finally he was rejected one last humiliating time in front of the entire Jedi Council. And then Qui-gon had gone off and gotten himself killed, conveniently avoiding facing the consequences for his actions.

Again and again, death and sorrow followed him. Again and again he did what he was told was right. Had sacrificed the entirety of his young adulthood to a child that the Council didn’t want him to have. Had again and again done his duty, and because of it, risen to the post of Council member, the youngest in recent history.

And yet…there were moments. Moments when he hated them all, when he raged against the Code that he lived by, when he didn’t know what to do with his roiling emotions. Anakin had once asked him why he kept so many teacups. Obi-wan hadn’t had the heart to answer truthfully, to admit that so many ceramic fragments had bursted onto his floor in an attack of rage.

But no. He was a Jedi. There was no emotion, only peace.

Obi-wan feared the day when was no peace.

18) FAVORITE POSSESSION

If Anakin had been asked, he would have said Obi-wan’s favorite possession was his hot water heater, and that he had a very un-Jedi-like attachment to the device.

Of course, Obi-wan would counter that his protective actions regarding the kettle were only due to the fact that as a Padawan, Anakin had somehow engineered his kettle to heat at twice the speed it was supposed to. Which was all well and good until there was a veritable geyser in their apartment and a very upset quartermaster who Obi-wan had to explain this all to.

Obi-wan’s favorite possession was not his hot water heater, although he had banned Anakin from any further experimentations. No, tucked away in the back of a drawer was a small sheet of flimsi. It was fraying on the edges, worn from its age. But on it was a crude child’s drawing of two males - simple circles as heads, rectangles as bodies, and sticks for limbs. Both males wore wide smiles, in an unnatural hue of purple. The taller, older one had flaming red hair, and the short, young child in the picture had a simple bowl cut - blonde and sun-streaked.

“Friends!” the shaky Aurebesh said over the two figures, who held small oval hands in front of a landscape of lakes, buildings, and (Force help him), brightly-colored pod racers.

He had received it as a gift from Anakin on his 27th birthday. It was his first indication that they had overcome their shaky beginnings, when he was too wrought with grief, with panic to be able to think straight, to be able to do right by this incredible child.

Obi-wan smiled, filing away the drawing in its special place.

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