Setup And Punchline

Hey now, you’re an all star

listen to what I orchestrated

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how to draw arms ? ? 

Your church-going, God-worshipping sister adopted a small child and you’re excited to see them. But when you do, the child is a menace. They’re throwing things everywhere, setting furniture on fire with seemingly nothing, chanting in Latin to summon demons, but the weirdest thing is that your sister doesn’t seem to mind.

Omg a de-aged Obi-Wan/Jon fic. They both were de-aged to like, 14-15 and don't have their memories past that. They're trapped in a Sith Temple with Very Stressed Cody, a Confused and Concerned Rex, and Low-key Entertained and Terrified Ahsoka. Chaos, emotional pain/bonding, and stress screaming occurs

Rex feels a little like he got run over by a bantha.

“Easy, Rex,” Ahsoka says from somewhere close, and then there's a hand on his shoulder, helping as he struggles up. Rex appreciates the assistance; he feels as if his head got rung like a bell, and his body right along with it. There's no ringing in his ears, though, none of the shakiness that a concussion grenade would have left him with, and when he pries his eyes open Ahsoka looks rattled, but entirely unharmed.

“What the kriff was that?” Rex asks, putting a hand to his head. A few paces away, Cody is stirring on the stone floor, sprawled out uncomfortably, and Rex pushes up, lets Ahsoka grab his arm and steady him as he staggers over to Cody's side.

“Some old Sith trap,” she says disgustedly, and drops to her knees next to Cody, gently pulling him over onto his back. Rex crouches down as well, pulling his helmet off, and when Cody's dazed eyes flutter open, he gives him a crooked grin.

“Come on, vod,” he says. “I know your head’s hard enough to survive that.”

“Go away, Rex,” Cody says with a groan, and Rex scoffs. Before he can say anything, though, Cody's eyes fly open again, and he jerks up. “The general!”

Ahsoka turns, pointing towards the huge, heavy stone door that stands tightly shut. “Master Obi-Wan and Master Antilles threw us clear when the trap went off,” she says. “I tried to get the door open, but it won't move.”

Cody blinks for a moment, staring at the door. Then, carefully, he squints at Ahsoka, and says, “I thought Jon Antilles died on Queyta, getting the swamp gas antidote.”

Well, Rex thinks wryly. That definitely puts a new spin on Obi-Wan’s surprise when he dropped out of the rafters and sliced apart one of the half-mad native beasts that was chasing them.

Ahsoka grins. “It’s like a Temple game,” she says. “Whatever record-keeper is on duty when one of Master Antilles’s death reports comes in has to buy the rest drinks that night. I think it’s happened twelve times in the last three years.”

Jetii, Rex thinks, and rolls his eyes. Cody just looks pained.

“They're trapped in there?” he asks, climbing gingerly to his feet. “We need to get them out.”

That, Rex thinks, is an understatement. They're deep in the bowels of a Sith temple, with several dozen dangerous creatures, Sith ghosts, and a whole trap-filled maze between them and the exit. And Anakin is lost somewhere in here with them, separated early on but probably neck-deep in trouble if Rex knows anything at all about his general. They’ve got no comms, no backup, and no way out except right through the most dangerous parts of the temple.

Just another Centaxday, Rex thinks, and wonders if Fox will be willing to recommend some good ulcer medicine when the stress invariably gives him one. Or several.

“I already tried the door,” Ahsoka says, as she and Rex follow him up. “There's some kind of shield over it—I can't cut through—”

As if in response to her words, the doors shudder, creak. They bow towards Rex, Cody, and Ahsoka, like something is pushing from the inside and straining against the lock, and Cody shout a warning. He falls back, dragging Rex with him, and Rex would be offended about getting manhandled like a shiny if he wasn’t more concerned with grabbing Ahsoka and pulling her along. She eels out of his grip, though, darts in front of them and drops into a ready stance, drawing her lightsaber. The green blade ignites with a hiss just as the doors snap back to flat—

With a yelp, a flail, a flurry of cloth, two bodies pass right through the stone like it’s an illusion, tumbling out onto the floor. Behind them, something slams into the door with enough force to rattle it in its frame, and the figures scramble up, untangling themselves quickly.

Rex thinks, with a distinct sinking feeling, that he would know that red hair anywhere.

“What was that?” the teenage boy—probably sixteen at most—with Obi-Wan’s hair and accent demands. He grabs the arm of the other boy, just about the same age but completely enveloped in an oversized cloak that’s closer to green-grey than standard Jedi brown, and they scramble backwards, right into Ahsoka. She yelps, dropping her lightsaber, and all three of them go down in a tangle of curses.

Rex doesn’t laugh. He doesn’t.

“What the heck,” Cody breathes.

“Master Obi-Wan!” Ahsoka complains. “Ow, ow, you're on my lek, get off—”

Antilles scrambles up, leaping back like he just got stung, and he jerks around—

Rex catches his arm. “Sir, just wait—”

There's a wrench, a sharp, startled sound, and suddenly Rex is airborne. He yelps, hitting the ground on his back, and wheezes as all the air is knocked from his lungs. Someone hisses, and Ahsoka cries out angrily, and Cody takes a half-step forward in alarm.

And then, before anything can happen, Obi-Wan shoves himself between Antilles and the rest of them, herding the other boy back a step. “Wait!” he says loudly, and Antilles twitches, ducks his head, but doesn’t move out from behind Obi-Wan.

“Wait,” Obi-Wan says again, raising his hands, and Rex pushes up on one elbow just to take in the sheer weirdness that is Obi-Wan baby-faced and beardless, padawan braid trailing down behind his ear. “You just startled him, that’s all. He saved me from the beasts in there, he isn't an enemy. And I'm not, either.”

Ahsoka glances back at Rex as she straightens, and her expression is caught between pure bewilderment and rising horror. “Master Obi-Wan?” she asks warily. “Do you recognize me?”

“Master,” Obi-Wan repeats, bemused. “I'm sorry, you must be mistaken. I'm a padawan. I haven’t even made Knight yet, let alone Master.”

Behind him, Antilles shifts, and Rex thinks he sees him swallow. He steps forward, and when Obi-Wan turns to him in alarm, he half-raises a hand, almost touching Obi-Wan’s arm, before he hesitates and drops it.

“If you need a Knight,” he says, “I'm Knight Jon Antilles.”

Rex blinks, exchanging glances with Cody, who looks equally confused. After a moment, Rex just shrugs. He hasn’t heard of Jedi making Knight so young, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen.

Ahsoka looks far less at ease with this information. “You're a Knight?” she demands. “But you're fifteen—”

“Sixteen,” Jon mutters, sort of shrinking back under his hood.

“—sixteen,” Ahsoka corrects without missing a beat, “and most Human Jedi don’t make Knight until they're at least twenty!”

There's a moment as Obi-Wan blinks at Ahsoka, and then he looks from her to the dropped lightsaber. “You're a Jedi,” he says in surprise. “I don’t recognize you from the crèche, though. Are you not from the Coruscant Temple?”

“Of course I'm from the Coruscant Temple,” Ahsoka says. She holds out a hand, calling her lightsaber to her, and studies Jon and Obi-Wan for a moment. “Do you…remember anything about the war?”

“War?” Jon asks, quietly alarmed. He steps forward—

Obi-Wan catches his arm, pulling Jon back to his side, and says, “Which war? Were we called out to negotiate? But why would two padawans be sent?”

“My Master is somewhere in this place,” Ahsoka says, and it’s a sidestep worthy of Obi-Wan. “We need to find him, but the only way back up to the main part is through that door.”

Jon and Obi-Wan glance back at it just as something hits it from the inside again, making it shudder. Obi-Wan’s expression firms into bloody stubbornness and he reaches for the lightsaber on his belt, but before he can draw it, Jon catches his arm.

“Have you tried communicating with them?” he asks softly, glancing at the doors. They shake again, and he hesitates, then says, “They have minds, beneath the rage and darkness. I can feel it.”

“They were a little too busy trying to eat us for us to try that,” Ahsoka says, watching him. “You think you can manage it? Even with how angry they are?”

“He can if we help him,” Obi-Wan says, hope rising in his tone. “The three of us together should be strong enough to influence them.” A smile breaking across his face, he turns his hand, catching Jon's arm, and says, “Let us help, Jon.”

Jon stares at him for a long moment, eyes wide beneath the shadow of his hood, and then very deliberately ducks his head so it hides him completely. He doesn’t answer, just jerks his head in a quick nod, but Rex can practically feel the rising heat of a blush. And, judging by the way Ahsoka's brows are rising, that’s not the only thing to feel.

“Oh,” she says. “Oh, wow. Mas—Obi-Wan? He’s your type? But everyone in the Archives always talks about how you and Jango Fett—”

“What,” Jon says blankly.

“What,” Cody says, at twice his normal volume.

“I'm everyone’s type,” Obi-Wan says, miffed. “And I certainly don’t know anything about Jango Fett, but whoever he is—”

“Wait, wait,” Rex says, more plea than anything, and raises his hands. If this goes on for much longer, Jon is going to dissolve into a puddle of sheer embarrassment behind Obi-Wan and Ahsoka, and since he’s got an idea how to get them out of here, Rex has a vested interest in not letting that happen. “We need to focus. Sir—Knight Antilles, can you really get those animals to let us through?”

“Yes,” Jon says, apparently relieved to escape the previous topic. “I—”

“We’re helping,” Obi-Wan says firmly, and tugs Jon a step closer to him. Jon looks a little like a deer in the lights of an oncoming transport, but he allows it without flipping Obi-Wan over his shoulder and slamming him into the ground. Not that Rex is annoyed about that. Much.

“Okay,” Jon says, almost soundless, and when Obi-Wan smiles at him he twitches like he wants to bolt.

Cody rubs a hand over his eyes and mutters to himself, which is the equivalent of anyone else beating their head against a wall while swearing. “We need to find General Skywalker as soon as possible,” he says. “Ahsoka—”

Ahsoka rolls her eyes, but heads for Obi-Wan and Jon, grabbing them both by the neck of their robes. “I'm the same age as my Grandmaster and I'm stuck in an old Sith temple with my Master missing, a legendary Jedi Master tripping over his own feet whenever my Grandmaster smiles at him, and no good way out. This is fine.”

Ahsoka, Rex reflects, has been learning far, far too much from Anakin. It’s mildly horrifying.

Jon makes a low, offended sound, but lets her steer him. “You're like Knol,” he says, as if this is some damning indictment of her character.

“Master Ven’nari?” Ahsoka says, suddenly far more interested. “Can't she breathe fire?”

Jon pauses, clearly caught off guard by this unexpected response, and gives her a wary look. He doesn’t answer, which is probably for the better. At least as far as Rex's stress levels are concerned.

“Beasts,” Rex says firmly. Ahsoka doesn’t need the ability to breathe fire. Rex doesn’t need Ahsoka with the ability to breathe fire. Not in the least.

“Who even are you?” Obi-Wan asks, cuttingly polite as he eyes them. “Planetary officials?”

“Soldiers,” Cody says. “Your soldiers. We serve the Jedi.”

Another traded glance between Jon and Obi-Wan, this time bewildered.

“Oh,” Jon says, soft. “You're not twins, you're clones.”

Cody very clearly makes the decision not to ask how he knows. “We are,” he agrees. “It’s our duty to get you out of here safely—”

From the look on Obi-Wan’s face, incredibly unimpressed and vaguely offended, this goes over with his general at sixteen about as well as it does at thirty-six. Jon doesn’t look all that much more convinced, either.

Ahsoka snickers, because she’s terrible. “We’ll get them out, too,” she tells Obi-Wan soothingly, and Obi-Wan snorts softly.

“We’d better,” he says, and turns, giving Jon a bright smile. “Are you ready, Jon?”

Jon stares at him for a moment, and then very carefully, very deliberately, he slides his hands out of the enveloping shadow of his cloak and offers them up. He’s not wearing the gloves he had on as an adult, and Rex can see Obi-Wan’s eyes lingering on the scarred skin for an instant before he reaches out, wrapping his fingers around Jon's.

“And what am I? Bantha fodder?” Ahsoka asks, unimpressed, and drops a hand on top of theirs, making them both startle.

“Ah, young love,” Rex murmurs, trying not to grin, and Cody groans.

“Can you knock me out again?” he asks.

Rex would, but the doors are opening, the Jedi are doing something, and there’s a big, ugly feline with long teeth bearing down on them, so he has slightly more important things to worry about at the moment.

[On AO3]

Today I learned about a couple that decided to rebuild their deserted piece of land of 600 hectares in Aimorés, Brazil. They planted more than 2 million tree saplings. As a result, the site has 293 plant species, 172 bird species and 33 animal species, some of which were on the verge of extinction. It only took 18 years!

In the early 1990s, Brazilian photo-journalist Sebastião Ribeiro Salgado was stationed in Rwanda to cover the horrific accounts of Rwanda genocide. The on-ground experience left him traumatised. In 1994, he was returning to his home in Minas Gerais, Brazil, with a heavy heart, hoping to find solace in the lap of a lush green forest, where he had grown up.

But, instead, he found dusty, barren land for miles and miles, in place of the forest. In only a few years, his beautiful hometown underwent rampant deforestation, leaving it fallow and devoid of all the wildlife. For him, everything was destroyed. “The land was as sick as I was. Only about 0.5% of the land was covered in trees,’ he shared in an interview with The Guardian. Salgado was shattered.

Saldago’s Wife Wanted to Recreate The Forest

It was at this time that Salgado’s wife Lélia made a near-impossible proposal. She expressed her wish to replant the entire forest. Salgado supported her idea, and together the couple set out on a heroic mission. Brazil Photographer Forest

Salgado bought an abandoned cattle ranch from his parents and started building a network of enthusiastic volunteers and partners who would fund and sustain their mammoth project. In 1998, the couple founded Instituto Terra – the organisation which tirelessly worked to bring a forest back to life.

PNHR Bulcão Farm | by Weverson Rocio – 2012

Salgado sowed the first seed in December 1999. The couple hired around 24 workers in the beginning and was later joined by numerous volunteers over the years. They worked day and night – from uprooting the invasive weeds to planting new seedlings. Soon, their hard work bore fruit as tropical trees native to the region started flourishing in the area. They received a donation of over one lakh saplings which gave rise to a dense forest. The handcrafted forest comprises mostly of local arboreal and shrub varieties. Latest satellite imagery revealed how a soothing green forest cover has enveloped the area which once was a devastating arid eyesore.Since 1998, they have planted more than 2 million saplings of 293 species of trees and rejuvenated 1,502 acres of tropical forest. The biodiversity-rich zone has recently been declared as a Private Natural Heritage Reserve (PNHR).

The Impact of Salgado’s Forest

The afforestation project, which is undoubtedly one of the greatest environmental initiatives in the world, has also helped to control soil erosion and revived the natural springs in the area. Eight water springs which once dried up, flow at around 20 litres per minute at present, relieving the drought-prone region of its woes. Salgado’s forest also happens to solve the much-debated notion about climate change, proving that the trend can be reversed if tried. His forest has resulted in causing more rainfall to the area and cooler weather, bringing a drastic and desirable change in the climate.

Instituto Terra’s Fauna | by Leonardo Merçon – 2012

The most important positive aspect of the forest till now has to be the return of the lost fauna. More than 172 species of birds, 33 species of mammals, 15 species of amphibians and reptiles have been spotted in the forest interiors, something which was beyond imagination two decades ago. Many of the plant and animal species in his forest actually feature on the endangered list.

Efforts For Good

Climate change is a harsh reality. Mankind is bearing the brunt of the relentless destruction they inflicted on the planet. Yet, people like Salgado and Lélia fill us with hope, proving that patience and persistence can be our keys to heal the wounds of nature. If two people can create a 1502-acre forest in just 20 years, then imagine how much can be done if everyone comes together to protect the environment. It must be reminded that for every tree we plant, we are adding 118 kgs of oxygen to the air every year, and reducing the carbon footprint by 22 kgs.

Efforts For Good urges all the readers to actively engage in planting trees and gradually turn this into a fixed habit.

Sources: http://www.scienceinsanity.com/2019/03/brazilian-couple-created-1502-acre.html

https://www.reddit.com/r/interestingasfuck/comments/bg0ebn/a_couple_decided_to_rebuild_their_deserted_piece/

i’m on an fdf kick rn and i’m abt to fucking ramble

ardyn feels like his head had gotten smashed in with the heaviest hammer he can’t even fathom existed. like the draconian just tried to kill him with a sword through his head

it takes him a little while to sort through memories—which is weird, he can’t remember daemonifying someone and taking their memories, but he supposes he will—and then pauses as he remembers the chosen queen ascending to claim her divine throne and kill him, eyes bloody and red, face twisted up in grief and resignation as her sword plunges into his chest to kill him

i await you in the beyond, he’d said. carefully, confusedly, he scans the room. it is his office in gralea, with the paperwork he enjoys to mess up on purpose on his desk with ink spilt over it and onto the floor. ink that matches the black on his fingers. and it is ink—he knows that for a fact.

and then he thinks, chosen queen? the title is the chosen king. not queen—not king—not queen—

ardyn grabs his head and grits his teeth. this, he thinks, is the most disorienting experience he has had.

then more memories sort through, gentle and teasing, just like the oracle and queen who had propped themselves up against ardyn’s side and talked to him in the beyond. well after ardyn had been purified and cured of the starscourge. his niece nocitfera and his granddaughter lunafreya had remained there with him despite them being able to move on, even though ardyn could not.

noctifera had done something (of course she had, his niece was many things, but overly lucky she was not) and the beyond began to get swallowed up before all six of the astrals came swooping in and panicking and sweeping them away—

and then ardyn woke up in his office in gralea with another set of memories. and they were another set of memories, ardyn can tell. he is not the ardyn that had been purified and bonded with those two girls in body even if he most certainly is in mind and heart. no, he was the ardyn that was fated to be killed by a chosen king not a chosen queen.

and he was still infected. the starscourge was crawling at his mind, slithering around in his body. he frowns as he turns away to look at the mirror and looks at unnatural gold eyes—different from when he overused his magic. this was from the scourge and it makes him frown harder at the mirror.

then he pulls away and answers a call from verstael with a half-hearted tap of the phone screen and lifts it up to give route greetings and go through the motions when verstael eagerly cuts him off, talking about a fleuret and a lucis caelum practically landing in his lap.

ardyn nearly smashes his phone to bits, but acts pleasantly surprised and intrigued and extracts a location with only minor buttering up and a promise to not start anything until he got there. he wants to say hello to these two wayward souls.

and... even if they’re not noctifera and lunafreya, they’re his. his nibling and grandchild. verstael’s hands would get sawed off if he even thought about touching them without any given permission.

but there they were. noctifera and lunafreya, both seeming to be teenagers and trussed up with cuffs and magic suppressors. both of his girls glaring at verstael and only looking at him when he says, “well! i must say, this is a surprise!” and he looks over them worriedly, frowning.

then he spins on his heel and demands, “let them out.”

verstael pales and ardyn distantly registers that his true face is on and the scourge is flowing in the air around him.

“uncle,” says noctifera. ardyn looks over at her. “you can’t just daemonify him.”

“i wasn’t planning on it, my dear niece,” he informs her honestly, but dramatically. “i don’t want him in my head.” then he perches his hands on his hips and saunters forwards, watching the cuffs pop open and feeling the jammer turn off. “you two should be home, my dears.”

“what,” wheezes verstael in the background.

“in a moment,” ardyn says dismissively. he grins at them, winks, and then crosses his arms, mock-sternly.

“it’s not our fault astrals decided to kidnap us,” lunafreya defends half-heartedly. “well, it’s not mine.”

noctifera huffs, but doesn’t argue.

ardyn sighs and then resigns himself to secretly buying a new house in gralea—his was too small to have housed two girls and an adult man for long. “i suppose if you’ve been abducted by the astrals, it’s fine. the least they could’ve done was put you closer to me, honestly. you two aren’t allows to go off on your own.”

“we try not to,” lunafreya tells him. “but sometimes the temptation is there and we do.”

oh. so they wandered off. did they land close by and see him dissociating through sorting the influx of memories and wander away? probably.

ardyn turns to verstael, who’s watching this with a pale face. “regardless, girls, we seem to have been rude. verstael, these two are—”

“i’m flora izunia,” lunafreya says, “ardyn’s daughter.”

“vespera izunia,” noctifera says, “his niece.”

and ardyn grins at verstael’s suddenly chalk-white face.

“My body, my choice” only makes sense when someone else’s life isn’t at stake.

me: *writes fic*

me: great! time to post to ao3-

ao3 summary box: *exists*

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ao3 summary box:

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fanfiction culture is reading a good fic but not remembering the title or author and then having to sell your soul to find it again