I wish the narrator can narrate my life as enthusiastic as that.
WORN OUT FROM SOCCER! COLLEGE FRESHMAN THEABOMINABLEBLOGGER TRUDGES BACK HOME FROM SOCCER PRACTICE, YEARNING FOR A GOOD NIGHT’S SLEEP AT LAST!
The animation jump from S2 to S3 though…
It’s the floating Hallejuah Mountains!
OBI WAN, STOP CHECKING OUT THE LIGHT SIDE OF THE FORCE! God!
The pronoun game! I love the pronoun game! *stares into imaginary camera like I’m on the office*
Yeah, you’re gonna have Anakin wait ON THE SIDE OF A CLIFF FACE!
*whispers* It’s Sam Effing Witwer
[”Sith? Yes and no.”] HE IS BOTH! MWAHAHAHA!
OK, the glowing trees are straight out of the planet Pandora from “Avatar”
Man, I wish I can get up that fancy.
Oh, the statues are the Son and the Daughter- Oooohhhhh!!!!
Fun Fact: he won an Emmy for this. For a freaking cameo. Do not diss Liam Neeson on my blog.
He has no pillow!
I’m kinda iffy about the idea that Anakin is the child of the Force. I mean while it helps show that he’s the Chosen One, it just doesn’t roll with me. Maybe his dad was Darth Plagueis- I mean, the dude was rumored to have so much power that he could control the midichlorians to create life.
Ahsoka clearly does not end up looking like that in Rebels.
What is it with old, wise men stroking their beards in thought in this franchise?
God, I hate the trope of choosing between ones close to you.
This scene is awesome.
KNEEEEL BEFORE ZOOOODDDDDD!!!
Dude, you’re clearly NOT dying. *not yet*
Dude, he’s not being selfish!
The “planet” Mortis kind of looks like a holocron temple from Rebels…
I’m beside myself [and myself, and myself, and-]
There’s the Sam Witwer tell. You can always tell it’s Sam Witwer when he says “friend.” He likes to drag the r a lot.
Fun Fact: Sam Witwer said that he included aspects of other Sith voices in the Son’s voice. Super interesting to listen for.
“It was a GIANT TOWER! Of course I saw it!”
Sam Witwer agaaaiinnnnn….
“The chains, the chains are the easy part. It’s what goes on in here that’s hard.” God I love that freaking line.
I’m gonna be making a separate post of favorite lines in TCW sometime in the future.
That’s Maul. That’s just straight up Maul.
Yes, let’s leave your dying, elderly father alone asleep. Great plan.
That’s in Rebels!
That’s a big knife…
It’s the Star Wars version of Barad-dur!
I just realized that the Fulcrum symbol came from the markings on Ahsoka’s forehead.
HE’S TWIDDLING HIS THUMBS!
“He was just… so selfish. And and was talking too long to die so- I’ve decided to move along.” Another line to add to my list of favorites.
Great idea Obi-Wan! Let’s say out loud WHAT IT’S [the knife] SUPPOSED TO DO!
Aaah the music!
Wait, did they just recycle the Wampa noise?
[The Father throws his kids out the window] Talk about grounding your kids. Literally.
I love how in the episode before, the Daughter’s like “Don’t touch me, Skywalker!” but here, she’s totally cool with Obi-Wan helping her out.
[Son yells after accidentally stabbing Daughter] That’s straight up Anakin yelling “Why?”
Man, Ahsoka’s got bad evil cataracts.
I still think the convor bird thing at the end of “Twilight of the Apprentice” in Rebels is the Daughter just following Ahsoka around.
Yay! More Anakin and Ahsoka hugging!
Why yes, let’s bury your daughter with the weapon she was killed by. That sounds like a grand idea.
Man, the Force is full of dicks.
*starts singing* QUI GON YOU’VE GOT TO LET ME KNOW/ SHOULD I STAY OR SHOULD I GO NOW?
The Son has the same body shape of Anakin. Just sayin’. Turns out, in order to be a Sith, you just gotta be tall and lanky.
Well I’m screwed.
I never noticed the other Jedi and Padme being Force-choked in the background before!
That’s straight up Maul. Seriously.
Son: So tell me, Chosen One, what do you think of this [gestures to Mustafar-like surrounding? Anakin: I’d hate to be here.
Dude, what eyeshadow is Anakin using?
Why didn’t we have this Anakin in Revenge of the Sith?
Oh, I love this version of the Imperial March.
I get the feeling that Anakin gets kidnapped/in trouble a lot and Obi-Wan and Ahsoka have to team up all the time to rescue him.
God I love Matt Lanter’s Anakin.
“You [Sister] were the only one I truly loved!” That sounds like Anakin a lot.
Apparently, this is labeled as “Getting Crap Past the Radar” on TVTropes. Because of subtext.
*sing songs* Glowy eyeesss…
Anakin is gonna have back problems for days…
Suicide! On screen! Yeah, for the freaking second time in this show! (first time in “The Mandalore Plot” in S2) It happens again in the Zygerria arc in S4 too! Jesus!
What is it with Sam Witwer characters in Star Wars dying in people’s arms?
The Force theme!
The ending of this is just like “Everyone dies! Cue the fireworks!”
what do you think of Ahsoka with Galen Marek? together i mean
You mean this Galen Marek, right?
Unfortunately Nony, I’ve never played this game.
I’ve seen bits and pieces of it and I’ve read the Wookiepedia entry but I haven’t experienced the game and the character for myself. So I don’t really have a feel for him other than pointing a finger at the screen and shrieking “Look! It’s Crashdown! And Maul! And I think he even played Palpatine! And wasn’t he a vampire or something in another Sci-Fy tv show?”
So while Galen looks SUPER cool and is clearly into jar’kai, I just don’t have enough feel for his character to say, “Why yes! Ahsoka should definitely make out with this tall drink of water!”
I am an avowed believer in ship-and-let-ship so if you think they’d be an awesome pair then go for it! Write that story and share your favorite rarepair with the world and send it along to me! I’d be curious to see how you think that would work out. Thanks for the question, Nony! Have a lovely day!
I think you may have discussed this, or something like it, before but it occurs to me that Anabasis Anakin and Samuel Vimes would really get each other.
Well, I have the Star Wars/Discworld fusion where Sam Vimes somehow ends up on Tatooine and takes young Anakin under his wing, unleashing Watchman Skywalker on the galaxy.
But you’re so right that Anabasis Anakin and Vimes would get on like a house on fire. Vimes would be all about the story of a slave who killed his King, and he’d love the concept of Unfettered, too. He’d probably sit back and watch with increasing glee as Anakin drags the Republic and the Jedi and everyone involved with the clone army. (I’m especially imagining the Vimes of Feet of Clay, who thoroughly enjoys hearing about Dorfl’s anti-capitalist actions against his former masters.)
Plus Vimes absolutely gets what it’s like to be powered by a deep-seated rage, an unflinching view of the horrible reality of the world coupled with an absolute refusal to accept that things have to stay that way. Destroying an entire Empire because Fuck Kings? Yeah, Vimes is totally here for that.
I know that the Force is basically Space Magic ™ anyway, but entertain me:
Stormtroopers, casting in unison, chanting and moving, not knowing the theory or impact of their casting, but following orders. Finn, after getting out, with a brain full of magic that requires hundreds and hundreds of other people working in tandem to work properly. Someone shows him how to cast a charm on his own, and he is blown away; he had never thought that it was something you could do individually.
The pilots of the resistance, cockpits hung with good luck charms of hundreds of different planets and species. “This one was made during the alignment of the stars, which only happens once a hundred years” Pava says, knocking her fingernail against a star-strung chain hung from her headrest. “Oh yeah? Snap says, producing a small bag from under his flight suit. “Moon sand, from the first time the species achieved space flight, blessed by three different sects.” “Nice.” Pava says admiringly. Most of them are trinkets, cheap pieces of junk pawned to off-worlders. All the pilots know this.Most of them, if you asked them seriously, would claim it was all a bunch of garbage. But when a single screw up in your job means that you burn up in atmosphere, or get ejected from your seat at nearly light-speed, or collide with a meteor belt, you take all the extra luck you can get. They keep the bags fed, and ring the bells, and kiss the images; you never know what a little bit of an edge can do.
Leia is the last known practitioner of Alderaanian low magic. It requires ritual, and dozens of different plants that are now extinct, and the light of a moon now wandering lonely in an asteroid belt. It’s not something she is good at; she curses at her little herb garden as the plants refuse to grow, her braided charms fall apart even as she weaves them, and as a princess ‘magical education’ was the first thing cut when she needed to learn to shoot, and encrypt messages, and resist torture techniques. But when her son turns nine, for his coming of age she crowns him with the same flowers, woven in the same patterns that her mother made for her, and blesses him with everything that should come with the crown: Respect, power, and a legacy etched in the stars themselves. Her planet is dead, but her son received the same blessings she did. That is something; that is something.
Poe, given a pen and half a moment, can create runes in half a dozen different languages. He scrawls them up and down his arms before he goes out missions, writes them in get well soon cards, spray paints them on the side of hangers, and carves them into the side of his toolbox. He once spent a very productive dozen rest periods inscribing every rune he knew for ‘safety’ and ‘protection’ and ‘safe return’ into all the individual pieces of BB-8. The other pilots tease him about it, that he shows more concern for the droid than for his own safety. It’s funny, right up until it’s not.
Han, like many pilots, knows only a smattering of blessings and curses. His are all spoken things, minor magic without preparation and without materials. Hexes whispered out of the corner of the mouth to make an opponent trip, or panted under the breath to make your feet swifter, your aim truer, your dodges quicker than whoever was shooting at you. He doesn’t see the appeal of the fancy stuff, until he sees Leia, on what would have been Alderaan’s solstice hunched over a bowl of fragrant herbs, starlight and an undeniable sense of home filling the air.
Luke knows folk magic, farmers magic, home grown on Tatooine. People expect it to be massive, flashy, larger than life, but it’s exactly life sized. Luke knows to rub a nail on a tooth and stick it in a tree to cure a toothache, to divine the sex of a baby with a needle and thread, to spit into the wind and tell you when rain is coming. He’s unnervingly accurate, but his magic is mundane, fundamentally. It’s magic intended for hearth and home, and for family, although it didn’t manage to keep a single one of those together.
Rey’s magic, much like Rey herself, is wild, untrained and deeply powerful. The force of her intent can floor everyone in a 100 foot radius, including herself. She can push herself for days longer without food or water than she should be able to, and everyone around her feels the same hunger, the same desperate thirst that she does.
She has gotten into more arguments than she can remember where she has had to stop yelling to stamp the fire out of her wrap.
Her fear causes ice inches thick to form on the interrogation chamber on star-killer base. Her joy, when Finn wakes, causes every flower in a three mile radius to spontaneously blossom. She is shakingly powerful, and unrefined; standing near her when magic leaks out is like standing in the path of a tidal wave.