Noticing A Pattern Of Unusual Instruments Being Used In The Soundtracks Of The Disney+ Tv Shows. Bass

i work at a grocery store and i've written a substantial amount of fic on scraps of receipt paper in between customers.

People who write fic on mobile genuinely frighten me

i actually dont have strong feelings about the edits done to the OT but i will defend the hayden force ghost thing to the death purely because seeing grown men fail to comprehend the world's most heavy handed symbolism is entertainment you dont get anywhere else

we are not a people of sand

rating: g (word count 420)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/36747517

Tuskens have no written language. Instead, their ancestors’ memories are passed from the old to the young, their history recounted each night under the indifferent gaze of the stars. In this way is a culture forsaken by the rest of the galaxy kept alive. There are generations in the heft of the Elder’s gaderffii and the tip of the Elder’s tongue.

“Feel how cold it is at night,” the Elder might say. “Tatooine has always been a planet of paradoxes: sea to desert, desert to ice.” On a longer night, when the Dune Sea is tilted away from all three of Tatooine’s suns, the Elder begins, “Let me tell you the tale of Rgur’okrt, he who tamed the krayt dragon with his mind.”

That is one story that is told in every tribe, though the name is as variable as the wind. Rgur’okrt and the dragon fought thirty days beneath the sand, and the whole tribe thought he was dead. But on the thirtieth day he found that he could sense the dragon’s thoughts, so he reached out and caused it to fall into a deep sleep, such that it would not wake to terrorize his people for the passing of two generations.

Then he burst from the sand, the granules spraying like droplets of water. The tribe rejoiced because he was alive. And from his robe fell out a fruit, and it broke, and spilled out milk. And Tuskens have drunk from black melons ever since.

The young do not always want to listen to these tales. “What does it matter?” they ask. “Why should we care about the history of a primitive people, of a hunted, dying race? Look around you. We choke on sand when the rest of the galaxy walks in the sky.”

So the Elder reminds them, “That is because we are not a people of sand. We are a people of water, of briny, irrepressible waves. Do you think mechanical wings are the only way to fly? Our ancestors crossed oceans on the backs of whales.”

Then the Elder tells the end of the story. All of the Tuskens’ stories end the same way.

As Rgur’okrt burst from the sand, so will the fish and the whales and the crabs. Water will fall from the sky, and water will swell from the sand. “The oceans will rise again one day,” the Elder says, and makes the children repeat the words, one after another. “The oceans will rise again one day, and we with them.”

oh absolutely. i’d say it’s a near-certainty. we know bo-katan is planning a revolution and she’s a pretty polarizing figure. i’m sure there are lots of mandalorians out there who Will Not Like That. there also seems to be some sort of (possibly one-sided) preexisting rivalry between bo-katan’s political faction and din’s religious faction which i’m sure is going to come up later.

a civil war would basically be the culmination of the recurring question of what makes a mandalorian (do they have to wear the helmet? be ethnically mandalorian? is it a religous, political, or racial group or a combination?) because any contender for mand’alor has to prove to the others that they’re truly mandalorian. which makes din as a (reluctant) contender quite interesting because not only is he a foundling, now that he’s taken off his helmet he probably doesn’t consider himself mandalorian anymore.

this is pure speculation but they could POTENTIALLY be gearing up for another mando civil war with bobf and mando s3, because we now have A) a claim to the throne by Din that is definitely going to be contested by a lot of people, himself included, B) a historically very politically powerful and ambitious leader who represents a “scorned” faction of Mandalorians in Bo-Katan, and C) Boba Fett, who presumably now controls Hutt Space (? or is it just outer rim territory? I can’t remember) and will probably be roped into the conflict purely based on the fact that he has resources, people, and territory at his disposal regardless of how he feels about Mandalore itself. Add all of that onto the fact that afaik Mandalore has no current ruler now that the Empire is gone and a huge diaspora that is probably eager to return home now that they’re not under the thumb of imperial rule. This would also follow the eternal cycle of “it’s like poetry, it rhymes” Star Wars is obsessed with following, so a capstone civil war is probably gonna happen soon-ish. also lends itself to lots of entertaining action scenes, rule of cool, etc

every time i rewatch the mandalorian, i think “okay, i am now going to write a thoughtful and coherent analysis of why this show is incredible and i love din djarin”

but all i can produce is wordless screaming because THIS SHOW IS INCREDIBLE AND I LOVE DIN DJARIN

ten credits says when din finally paints his armor it'll be purple because he's not like other mandalorians

yeah, i agree that was definitely the main reason he was upset. i think in bo-katan's case there was also an element of anger that she didn't follow the creed, but most of what set him off there was her attitude towards his beliefs rather than the things she herself believed.

(i'll make sure to tag you in my prejudice post once i get around to writing it!)

i don’t think we should be quick to trust anything bo-katan says about the children of the watch.

the main thing i’m suspicious of is her claim that they’re a fringe group. maybe they were in the clone wars era, but they’re clearly the dominant mandalorian faction right now. we know this because literally everyone in the show, not just din, thinks all mandalorians never take off their helmets. that perception wouldn’t be so widespread if the helmet thing were only practiced by a small group of religious zealots. i mean, this is galaxy-wide common knowledge. it’s not just din being sheltered by a cult.

Keep reading

these stripes mean something

rating: g (word count 762)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/40832574

When the Mandalorian shows up in front of Cara's glossy new officer's desk, asking her to help him spring one Migs Mayfeld, traitor to democracy and accessory to murder, the first thing she thinks is: this man is not the same person who fought by my side on Sorgan. There’s something wrong with the rigid way he moves, with the tightness in his voice when he speaks.

“These stripes mean something,” she says, indicating the badge on her chest.

It’s a no, but not a hard one. More of a please don’t ask me that. She doesn’t want to choose between Mando and her last chance of going straight. (She doesn’t know if she has the strength to choose going straight.)

“They have the kid.”

Cara’s eyes narrow. Oh no, they don’t.

The whole way to Morak, Cara watches the Mandalorian out of the corner of her eye.

There used to be a tenderness to him, an awkward softness that poked out between the cracks of his armor. She saw it first on Sorgan, in the way he watched his son play with the children in the krill ponds. Heard it in the thank you's he clumsily handed the young widow like he wasn’t sure what to do with them.

It's gone now.

There’s an aura of deadliness concentrated around him that wasn’t there before. It’s like he’s a blaster aimed to kill and he’s only waiting for the right moment to pull the trigger. His voice is a gaping void. Sure, Mando has always been quiet, but now… it’s like he’s catatonic. Like he only exists when he needs to for the mission.

Cara has never feared him. Not even on that fateful day on Sorgan when she looked up from her spotchka, saw a real live Mandalorian hunter, and thought for the first time in her life, I might be meeting my match. She tends to be more practical than terrified in those kinds of situations, but—

Not gonna lie, the rigid figure sitting across from her makes her a little uneasy. It’s a good thing they’re on the same side.

The old Mando called a truce and offered her soup. She’s not so sure this one would do the same.

Cara can’t believe he agreed to replace his beskar with stormtrooper armor. She can’t believe he suggested replacing his beskar with stormtrooper armor.

It’s kind of dumb, but all she can think is where did your face go? She knows, rationally, that the black T-visor and beskar zygomatic curves aren’t his real face, that helmets are removable and there’s got to be a head somewhere in there. But still. Where is his face.

“I’d say it looks good on you, but I’d be lying,” she says.

The Mandalorian looks at her.

Cara’s always been able to read the crease of a brow and the twitching of lips through a helmet’s tilt. She knows this man as well as she knows her own blaster. Knows the way he fights and the way he stands still, knows what he’s saying when he doesn’t say anything at all. They’ve had entire conversations without speaking a single word. But now—

Now, for the the first time since the day they met, she locks eyes with the Mandalorian and has no idea what’s going on inside his head.

(It’s the lack of doubt. It’s the way he faces her, head-on, like a challenge.)

It shouldn’t feel so jarring. It’s not like he’s done anything yet that Cara wouldn’t do if their places were swapped; the kid is everything to him, so there’s no justification for the strange, premonitory loneliness she feels welling up in her bones. It’s just a helmet.

(It has never been just a helmet.)

Cara will go to the other end of the galaxy and farther if her Mandalorian needs her to. It’s a silent promise she made a long time ago, sometime after a bag of credits and a second chance plunked onto the dirt by her feet. She owes everything she is now to this man, who met an outlaw and saw a former Rebel shocktrooper, who without saying a single word reminded her what it was to have a heart and a code and a people to protect. She’ll hold herself to her vow as long as she’s able, but something tells her the Mandalorian is headed somewhere she can’t follow.

These stripes on my chest mean something, she thinks. That beskar meant something. You were the one who taught me that.

I wonder if you remember.