“Hello. My name is Luke Skywalker. You killed my father. Prepare to die.”
“Never go up against a Mandalorian when death is on the line!” *immediately falls into Sarlacc pit*
“Bye, boys! Have fun storming the Death Star!”
“Wampas Of Unusual Size? I don’t think they exist.”
“Do you want me to send you back to where you were? Unemployed, on Hoth?”
“It just so happens that Obi-Wan here is only mostly dead.”
“Give us the access code.” “What access code?” “Chewie, tear his arms off.” “Ohhh you mean this access code!”
“I could give you my word as a Corellian…” “No good. I’ve known too many Corellians”
“Why can’t I see?” “You’ve been mostly-frozen all day.”
That day, she was amazed to discover that when he was saying “I know”, what he meant was, “I love you.”
“Why do you wear that black mask? Were you burned on Mustafar, or something like that?” “Oh no, it’s just that they’re terribly comfortable. I think everyone will be wearing them in the future.”
“Luke doesn’t get eaten by the rancor at this time. ”What?” “The rancor doesn’t get him. I’m explaining to you because you look nervous.”
“The Fowce is what bwings us togevver today. It suwwounds us, and penetwates us. It binds the gawaxy togevver.”
consider this: Obi Wan’s been in love with Anakin for years, hopelessly pining. he’s fought side by side with him throughout the clone wars, they’ve saved each other countless times, and, in his eyes, they have an unshakeable bond. they’re each other’s closest friends. he sees Anakin struggling, and sees his anger and sadness, but when he reaches out he gets pushed away. Anakin goes to the chancellor instead of Obi Wan, and it hurts, but he understands: Obi Wan is a jedi, after all, and Anakin is angry with the council. Anakin slips farther and farther from him, and obi wan can’t be there for him, even though he wants to be, too wrapped up in the war.
then, his troops turn against him, try to kill him. he survives, and his first thought is Anakin: if the clones are turning against the jedi, then he must be in danger. Anakin’s alive thank god, but Obi Wan then has to watch as the man he loves casts aside the jedi order (and therefore him) and falls to the dark side. then, he watches as Anakin kills defenseless younglings. he’s anguished and horrified: the man he loved is gone forever. he goes to Padme, because he’s desperate to find Anakin, and that’s when his heart is truly and utterly broken beyond repair. this man he loved, the man he’d always loved, had never been his at all, and never could have been.
“anakin is the father, isn’t he?”
Today’s Enjolras is brought to you by: staring into the camera like you’re on The Office
It’s possible that commonplacecaz is pulling me back into the world of Star Wars. It’s also possible that she did this suspiciously close to the one year anniversary of us becoming creative colleagues, and totally deserves something nice to go with this delightful fic celebrating the occasion.
OMG, nonny! *^_^* I honestly don’t know what to say. ^_^ Thank you so much!
(OMG, I’ve dithered over this response for like 20 minutes because I really DON’T know what to say. O_o;;; I’m actually kind of baffled that people see me this way. -.-;;; I never feel like I’m particularly talented or anything? I just try my hand at things that seem fun and if they are, I keep doing them until I get better? (I also have trouble believing that people find me interesting, but that’s a lifetime of low self esteem at play, so I’ll try to take your word for that, too? OTZ))
But yeah, I guess basically I just wanted to say THANK YOU because that was such an unbelievably kind thing of you to say and I’m going to be squeaking over it for the rest of the day because I’M NOT WORTHY, but you are awesome, nonny. So, thank you, again! ^___________^
(Also, OMG, there’s PLENTY I can’t do, so don’t feel bad on that score! ;D)
I don’t know about the West End, but over here, our Grantaires take their relationship with Gavroche very seriously. So here is a compilation of some Grantaire’s screaming in agony when Gavroche is killed 😀
- Joe Spieldenner, 4th National Tour (this is THE scream of agony. The official one)
- John Rapson, Broadway (This was early in his run, where he actually said “OH GOD NO”. Very memorable.)
- John Rapson, Broadway (Later in his run, where it’s just a scream)
- Adam Monley, Broadway understudy
- Dennis Moench, Broadway understudy
- Eric Van Tielen, Tour understudy (dat whimper doe)
- Joe Spieldenner, North Shore Music Theatre (just… wait it out. The whole thing. It’s worth it)
To give you an idea about what really happened in the last audio
27. Things you said through a closed door
There’s no sound but the shuffling of his feet on the uneven wood floor of the hallway. He tries again.
“Courfeyrac, come on. I didn’t mean it.” And then, because if he can’t be charming and he can’t be good with people and he can’t be naturally kind, at least he can be honest, he adds, “That way.”
“You meant it.” Courfeyrac’s voice is stretched thin and uneven.
“I didn’t mean your family. Courfeyrac.”
“Combeferre, go away. I don’t want you here right now.”
Combeferre has never been able to read people well, but even he knows that this is Courfeyrac’s serious voice. And yet. He can’t bear to walk away, to leave things be when they are so terribly Wrong. Not when it’s Courfeyrac on the other side of that door. “I’m sorry,” he tries. “It was rude and unthinking of me. I didn’t–I’m not like you, Courf, I’m not good with people.”
The door is wrenched open, and Courfeyrac is there. His eyes are wet but Combeferre knows he’s not really crying–he’s just angry. (He knows him that well, God, he knows him so well, how is it that there is one person in the whole world who he actually gets and he’s still managed to hurt him?)
“I’ve heard that–that cowardly excuse from you too many times,” Courfeyrac snaps. “It’s not good enough, Combeferre. There’s a difference between being awkward, and being cruel, and you like to pretend you don’t see it.”
Combeferre ducks his head, heat rising to his cheeks. Courfeyrac runs on, flinging out the words with frighteningly precise ennunciation, even as his tongue’s going a mile a minute. “It doesn’t take any kind of social acumen to recognize when something you want to say might hurt someone–it just takes a little bit of logic and enough caring to actually stop and think about the facts.”
Unspoken: Combeferre literally has a master’s degree in logic. Combeferre is a slave to logic. Combeferre is the one who is constantly pleading with Enjolras and Courfeyrac to stop and think about the facts.
Unspoken: Combeferre doesn’t care about Courfeyrac.
It’s not true, Combeferre’s brain protests–and yet it’s where all the facts are pointing. Given what’s gone down this evening, the logical conclusion is that Combeferre is a selfish bastard who likes people only for how they benefit him and doesn’t actually give a shit about Courfeyrac’s feelings.
And Combeferre is a slave to logic.
He turns away, and the door slams behind him and he can still hear Courfeyrac’s restless pacing around the room. And he knows Courfeyrac well enough to know to text Joly with the suggestion he and Bossuet drop by to channel Courfeyrac’s angry energy into something less destructive than what he’ll come up with on his own. He’s sent the text and received an affirmative reply (bless Joly, he doesn’t ask what happened), and has already let himself out of the apartment before he realizes that he’s once again proved that he knows Courfeyrac so well.
He really has no excuse.
As he turns up his collar against the cold, spitting rain that feels more like November than April, it occurs to him that he might also be being a little overdramatic, about the whole thing. He said something shitty; now, twenty minutes later, he’s come to the conclusion that he’s an inhuman wretch with a rotted-out soul who’s probably going to die alone and deserve it. It pains him to realize that that part of his personality is a fairly recent grafting, courtesy of Courfeyrac.
Courfeyrac has a teddy bear named Ferre the Bear, pass it on
Yep, Hamilton lyrics still go with everything.
You can blame this idea on my younger sister. This was absurdly time-consuming, but I finished it in the end–I’m finally putting a dent in my art to-do list.