Thrawnkin

"There is a mystery about this which stimulates the imagination;

where there is no imagination there is no horror."

Although I suspended, just this week, my Sherlock and Thrawn series, with the urge to post my "Thrawnkin", I couldn't let go the matter completely, dropping here a fascinating quote from "A Study in Scarlet." I found it somehow appropriate since, for many, Halloween is a way to exorcise fears, imagining and living them, but, ultimately, controlling them.

Halloween is not a celebration that is part of my culture.

If we do commemorate the deceased on November 2nd and the Saints on November 1st, Halloween was something purely "American" just up to ten or fifteen years ago.

Now, Halloween is merely an excuse for some extra parties in clubs and pubs, but most of us do not carve pumpkins, decorate the house, or wander on the 31st dressed like sexy zombies or sexy nurses. (The sexy part seems substantial).

That said, I have been utterly crazy about Charles M. Schulz's Peanuts since I was in elementary school. If *maybe* I do not own all the 17,897 strips, I definitely daily read and quote the large majority of them.

How is this connected with Halloween, you are asking.

Well. My exposure to the whole hype —candies, carving, and all that jazz— derives from a bunch of adorable Li'l Folks waiting for "The Great Pumpkin" to rise from the pumpkin patch on Halloween evening.

Unfortunately, though, (and I am quoting here) "when the Peanuts strip was first introduced in Italy, Halloween was almost unknown there as a festivity. The earlier translations turned the pumpkin into a watermelon ("Il Grande Cocomero") because it was felt to be a more Mediterranean fruit-figure and its name sounded better."

So, yeah, I grew up with no Halloween and... The Big Watermelon.

I carved my first pumpkin in 2007, and I tried hard to keep the tradition each year, global pandemic permitting, up to yesterday.

Except for one time, I always represented my "obsession of the year", something nerdy and niche, obscure to the large majority of people.

So, I couldn't help but attempt a "Thrawnkin" this year.

I am not very positive about the results, but it was a total blast.

Hux

I recently bought the digital version of "Age of Resistance - General Hux," the one-shot comic, just for preparing this post.

I did not know or understand Armitage at all, and when I bought this gorgeous pin by @ritarussiandoll_pins on a design by @yanh_hyung I wanted to fill my total ignorance, at least a bit.

To be honest, the reading left me with more questions than answers.

Hux's childhood is probably the most terrible you can read in SW media.

Like EVER.

And, I mean, including SLAVERY and WAR and MURDER.

The psychological and physical torture depicted there, screaming from the ink in front of you, may be just comparable to the pain inflicted on Anakin by the Emperor in the Pak's Vader last installment.

And, if you didn't read it yet (DO. IT.), well, that is super heavy stuff.

This? It might be even more massive.

So, the fact that Armitage grew up totally (like TOTALLY) messed up, it is not surprising. But I did not expect that he was SO wicked, to be honest.

And I am talking about Marchion Ro's level of evil.

Which, if you didn't read anything "The High Republic" yet (DO.IT.), well, it is like being a COMPLETE SOCIOPATH —manipulative, egocentric, displaying no empathy whatsoever—.

Hux is the mold of the frail kid, totally ill-treated by his abusive father, becoming a torturer and a mass murderer as a coping mechanism.

A perfect counterbalance for Ben, the loved kid and talented pupil that everyone wants to be.

So you can guess the hate and the envy.

[And the twisted connection too]

[Finally realizing why there are so many S&M Kylux fanfics on AO3]

I conclude by saying that, although I still don't understand the character at all, I started to feel that his demise in IX was a total waste, and, if you want the five cents of this very last-minute fan, a total lack of appreciation and grasp for his dramatis personae.

You deserve to be loved

Two pale blue moons shone over the horizon in a starry sky. []

An image flashed through his mind, of a time long gone. He was standing looking at the Lothali moons with Kanan at his side, the familiar weight of his hand on his shoulder.

Ezra felt something growing up in his chest, a pressure he had kept in check since arriving, but now it was suddenly increasing, taking him by surprise and completely unprepared. []

The Ghost. Home.

The image of his parents dissolving in front of him.

He fell on his knees, holding himself, sobbing and trying to breathe, trying to calm himself... but it was no use. [] He needed this to happen. He allowed himself to cry, to yell in pain, let it all out as tears covered his face.

He didn't notice when Thrawn had arrived and crouched at his side.

"Are you hurt?" a frown on his face.

Ezra looked at him in confusion. Of course he was hurt. How could he not see it? [] Was he truly incapable of real emotion?

Then he was walking with him, and the last thing he knew, he was back on his cot. When he woke up, [] it was day already. []

Coming out of his hut he saw Thrawn, cleaning his hands from some kind of black tincture.

"Ah, you are awake. Good. [] You required some rest. It was understandable."

"I-" Ezra scratched the back of his head and looked away from him in embarrassment. Something his attention from the corner of his eye. He froze with a silent gasp. His eyes watered again.

He had trouble breathing.

There, against one of the trees, was a small wooden tablet with a drawing. It was the picture of his parents with him as a child, replicated with black ink. []

"I apologize. Even though I had studied that photo many times I lack the detailed skills of Miss Wren and the necessary tools and pigments to-"

"No, it’s fine," Ezra hurried to say as he dried his tears and tried to keep his hands from shaking. []

“Last night you mentioned you wished you had it with you. [] It was something I could provide."

After a long silence, Ezra nodded.

"Thank you."

["Last Known Trajectory" by @soulnova_alizrak]

~

Lesser Evil is already breaking me.

I needed for him to be seen for a tiny fictional bit.

[Photo: art by @aly_en.art]

The brain-attic

His ignorance was as remarkable as his knowledge. Of contemporary literature, philosophy and politics he appeared to know next to nothing. [] My surprise reached a climax, however, when I found incidentally that he was ignorant of the Copernican Theory and of the composition of the Solar System. That any civilized human being in this nineteenth century should not be aware that the earth traveled round the sun appeared to be to me such an extraordinary fact that I could hardly realize it.

“You appear to be astonished,” he said, smiling at my expression of surprise. [] “You see,” he explained, “I consider that a man’s brain originally is like a little empty attic, and you have to stock it with such furniture as you choose. [] Now the skillful workman is very careful indeed as to what he takes into his brain-attic. He will have nothing but the tools which may help him in doing his work, but of these he has a large assortment, and all in the most perfect order. [] It is of the highest importance, therefore, not to have useless facts elbowing out the useful ones.”

“But the Solar System!” I protested.

“What the deuce is it to me?” he interrupted impatiently; “you say that we go round the sun. If we went round the moon it would not make a pennyworth of difference to me or to my work.”

~

“Could there be a political aspect to this?”

“An excellent question” Samakro agreed. “Let me give you a simple answer: no.”

Laknym frowned. “No, sir?”

“No,” Samakro repeated. [] “The truth, Laknym, is that I’ve been Thrawn’s first officer since he came aboard. I’ve watched him in battles, in preparation for battles, in the aftermath of battles, and dealing with Aristocra and senior officers.”

He looked back at Laknym. “And I have never—never—seen anyone as utterly incompetent at politics as he is.”

~

Although the reasons for their selective ignorance are intrinsically distinct —a deliberate choice to disregard some subjects vs. the inability to understand social constructs— I find it staggeringly fascinating that these two great minds would not or could not master tasks uncomplicated for an ordinary man.

[Photo: phenomenal pin by @ritarussiandoll_pins, on a design by @nekostarberry]

So little about me

“Hey, Thrawn…” Ezra said after passing him a refilled waterskin. It was night already.

“Yes?”

“I just realized... I don't know the name of your race.” [] Ezra tried to sound casual as he sat on the opposite side of the campfire.

Thrawn rose his red eyes to him, analyzing the Jedi for a moment. “Chiss. The name of my race is Chiss. [] I would have assumed Agent Kallus would have informed you of these details when he defected to the Rebellion,” Thrawn raised an eyebrow inquisitively. []

“Maybe he did? I might have skipped over that part of the report,” he shrugged. []

“You knew so little about myself and yet you managed to defeat me,” Thrawn seemed to show amusement at this thought. []

“Aren't you angry about that?” [] Ezra hadn’t realized the question nagged him since the first day he woke up here.

“Your maneuver took me by surprise and, yes, I must confess I was initially upset,” Thrawn explained softly.

“...and scared” Ezra added truthfully but maybe too bluntly. Thrawn’s eyes met his, narrowing, his expression hardened.

“Yes. Jumping into hyperspace with no windows and held by bizarre creatures can be regarded as frightening.”

“But you are not upset anymore?" [] It just simply confused him why Thrawn had never complained or lashed out to him in revenge. Thrawn had lost everything he had worked for in the Empire.

“You accomplished something remarkable. [] I told you before I had originally dismissed you, and that was my error. Only someone else had come as close as you. [] He was known as Nightswan" Thrawn’s tone was solemn and full of respect. "I had attempted to save him during the Battle of Batton."

"Wait, I know that one. A whole city was destroyed. All those people died because of you" Ezra’s tone lowered, anger found again a grab on him.

"That was the official statement, yes. I took responsibility for it" Thrawn said calmly but there was a hint of disgust in his eyes. “Governor Pryce was there. Perhaps you would be able to persuade her to tell you more about the events of that day, but I doubt she survived the attack on Lothal,” he added offhandedly as if he was actually glad of that part.

["LKT" by @soulnova_alizrak]

~

I so need all this.

Understanding.

[Photo: pin by @maxxmerch. Note: I slightly darkened Ezra's skin color.]

Unlikely similar

His very person and appearance were such as to strike the attention of the most casual observer. In height he was rather over six feet, and so excessively lean that he seemed to be considerably taller. His eyes were sharp and piercing, save during those intervals of torpor to which I have alluded; and his thin, hawk-like nose gave his whole expression an air of alertness and decision. His chin, too, had the prominence and squareness which mark the man of determination. His hands were invariably blotted with ink and stained with chemicals, yet he was possessed of extraordinary delicacy of touch, as I frequently had occasion to observe when I watched him manipulating his fragile philosophical instruments.

~

Thrawn and Sherlock.

Tall, regal, graceful, delicate, sharp, slender.

Handsome.

Alike, yet so categorically different.

A "new" series, ranting about these two extraordinary characters.

In addition, of course, to Eli's and Ar'alani's ones, Faro's and Ezra's.

[And, to be precise —as I NEED to be for being, well, ME— this is actually my second post about the duo]

Will I end up extending #ThrawnThursday during the whole week?

Perhaps.

Do I care?

Nope.

~

The prisoner, as Eli had already noted, was of human shape and dimensions. But there the resemblance to normal humans ended. His skin was blue, his eyes a glowing red, and his hair a shimmering blue-black. [] The prisoner was dressed in what appeared to be skins and furs. [] Even marching in the center of a rectangle of armed stormtroopers, he had an air of almost regal confidence about him.

~

Standing [] was a tall, slender man. Or rather, not quite a man. His eyes were glowing red, his skin blue, his hair blue-black. He was dressed in a black military-style uniform with a burgundy patch on one shoulder and silver bars on his collar. Something was holstered on his right hip—a sidearm of some sort—with a slender, lightsaber-sized tube holstered on his left.

Thrawn.

~

Thrawn was taller than Samakro had expected, and carried himself with grace and a certain air of confidence. He was also courteous to the officers and warriors, and knew his way around the Springhawk.

~

Never in

His deep hazel eyes seemed to soften and melt, and his eyelashes swept down and his lips parted as he leaned in, and—

Vi released his shoulders and stepped back.

"Archex, what are you doing? [] Were you trying to kiss me?"

He squeezed his eyes shut like a child trying to hide. "No. Yes. Maybe?" []

"Then I'll go ahead and let you in on a little secret: I'm not into it." []

"It just felt like—I'm so sorry—"

She interrupted him before he could dig himself into a hole. "Look. We work together. We're partners. I care about you, but not like that."

She'd never cared for anyone like that, men or women, never had such urges. [] She tossed him a grin. "Look, just know that I'm your friend, and I'm here for you. Not romantically or physically, but for pretty much anything else. You can count on me. Okay?"

["Black Spire" by D. S. Dawson]

~

"Now, see, that I just don't get," Leox said later, when Affie and Geode tried to explain the Jedi to him. "How are you supposed to prove love to the galaxy at large if you don't know how to love one individual person?" []

"You don't have to have sex with someone to love them. You should know that if anyone does.

"Indeed I do."

["Into the Dark" by C. Gray]

~

There are gazillion reasons why people decide to NOT come out. And they are ALL valid.

So, on this National Coming Out Day, I want to say: no worries, no pressure.

Even if you are not out, not planning to be, maybe not even with yourself.

I want you to know: you are welcome and loved, and you can always speak with me.

Personally, I never being "in", actually. I was very clear to anyone asking since I was 12 or 13. The posters in my room were pretty self-explanatory as well.

Unfortunately, though, —bi problems— you are never *truly* believed until you introduce him or her or them. Everyone is then very shocked, trying hard to put you in their mental boxes. Besides dating, I spent eleven years of my life in long-term relationships with men, and the last seven with a woman. At 45, it would be nice not to have people still saying that I am "confused."

But, it is their limit, not mine.

I can fly anything.

[Photo: tookas pride by @hans.pins, kyber crystal by @liminalpins]

And he was you and you were him

Ezra was barely holding himself together, both his hands raised up towards the creatures and sweating profusely, trembling. Clearly, he was feverish from his wound [] and the young Jedi fell to his knees panting and gasping. [] Thrawn stared at him briefly, narrowing his glowing red eyes as he considered his options. After a few heartbeats, he finally approached the young man and pulled him up from his good shoulder. []

"NO! n-no...!" he mumbled in alarm and tried in vain to step away from Thrawn.

"Bridger, we are heading to the remaining escape pods. Will I have to leave you here to die?" It was not a threat, it was an honest question and Ezra was awake enough to comprehend this.

"Ok..." he calmed down and started to drift back into unconsciousness. Thrawn hurried to the nearest working escape pod practically dragging Bridger along.

"Kanan... I'm sorry..."

Thrawn seated Ezra and hastily strapped him the best he could, then went to the controls of the escape pod. [] Even if they detached now, their chances of survival were minimal. He looked back at Bridger and couldn't help to find all of this predicament impressive. He half smirked at the irony of it all and pressed the emergency release button.

"May the Force be with us."

[]

Fire engulfed everything.

He was a child, it was raining. He was scared and alone.

Red eyes over him. He tried to escape. He was held down. He screamed for help.

Stars. He was surrounded by stars. Dume was there. But it wasn't Dume.

"Kanan."

He could not see him, but he was brilliance. He could not touch him, but he was embracing him.

He smiled as a wave of relief and peace rolled over him.

He opened his eyes.

["LKT" by @soulnova_alizrak]

~

Continuing my journey across possible futures post-Rebels, I adored this very on-point suggestion regarding the inevitable overlap between Kanan and Thrawn in Ezra's soul. Although the Jedi will take years to fully trust the Chiss, Thrawn's natural mentor abilities, selflessness, and kindness, will inexorably lead him to feel the strong parallel between the two men, ultimately accepting the latter in his complexity and good intentions.

A very Ezra thing.

[Photo: magnificent pin by @ghostcrewpins]

Your scent

"They’ve shared a room for years, shared silences, meals, advice, stories.

Eli can’t help but breathe in Thrawn’s scent — Imperial soap, the cool scent of his hair gel, and something that Eli has come to know as just him."

Yes, you guessed right.

This passage is not from one of Zahn's books, but from an extraordinary fanfiction written by Amukmuk, titled "In Your Hands".

For disclosure, the story is an ace —but not aro— take on Eli and Thrawn's relationship.

And it is wonderful.

[Thank you @trisha.clev with all my soul]

Although the quote is new and, let's say, non-canon, I am waiting to write this caption and take this photo since, more or less, forever.

And given that IG doesn't show my posts anyway, it does not matter too much if end up sharing this too late, when half of the world is asleep and the other —the one that does not write geeky posts about the cologne of imaginary tall aliens on Friday evening— is out drinking beer.

~

There are two types of fragrances for a literary character.

The perfume that he or she would wear, and the scent that he or she is.

I already spoke about this elegant cologne that @thenerfherderco associated with Thrawn.

And it is indeed perfect as the perfume he would wear.

He would choose an extremely pleasant, refined, sophisticated scent.

He would not want to stand out too much (he is already, well, BLUE), but he would care to give everyone a feeling of decorum, cultivated taste, without being too frivolous, or —the horror— predictable.

But what scent Thrawn IS?

Our first impression of a fragrance is largely shaped by the top notes. The molecules are small and evaporate quickly. They intrigue and attract, then transition into the headier middle notes, which are forming the soul, the foundation of the perfume. They generally account for the majority of the aroma, hold our attention, acting as a buffer for the more robust base notes. These are made by heavy molecules providing complexity, depth, and a lasting impression.*

So, what scent Thrawn IS?

Top: Polite, Disciplined, Unforeseeable.

Middle: Selfless, Rare, Intense.

Base: Caring, Delicate, Complex.

Can a perfume be all that?

Can a man?

Numbers and soul

“Tell me of Lieutenant Vanto,” Thrawn said. “Has his study achieved success?”

“Not yet,” Ar’alani said. “But he continues with determination. If success is possible, I have no doubt he will be the one to achieve it. [...] My official report will feature Lieutenant Commander Eli’van’to most prominently.”

Thrawn’s lips might have twitched in a small smile at Vanto’s new rank.

Faro couldn’t tell for sure.

Absolutely.

Many are the SW characters notable for their self-awareness path and personal growth across books and series (Kanan, Ezra, Finn, just for mentioning a few). However, Eli's progression in discovering his potential and exceptional abilities is, as you can guess, something that I treasure in my heart.

For 15 consecutive Thursdays and two more posts, I revisited the exemplary journey of this extraordinary human from the Wild Space.

His endless kindness, care, honesty, and ultimate selflessness (Jun 24, Sept 23), his acceptance of diversity (Jul 1), and his contempt toward racism and bigotry (Jul 8, Sept 2). His sadness in not being understood or accepted by his parents, especially in their biases towards Thrawn (Sept 2).

His bold opinions against the Navy's nepotism, hidden politics, and disrespect of life (Aug 5, Sept 9), and his unbreakable integrity and ethic, facing alone the consequences of both (Jul 22).

His so genuine happiness when reaching his goals (July 29), his humility and modesty (Sept 16), while showing an unparallel ability to understand patterns and data (Jul 15).

His role as patient mediator, "society rules interpreter", and, fundamentally, ability to read the logically wired Thrawn's brain, heart, and soul (Aug12, Aug 26, Sep 9).

Their relationship, their bond, their deep friendship (Feb 15, Mar 15, Apr 3, Aug 23, Aug 26, Jul 29, Sep 2, Sept 9, Sept 30).

Thank you for being with me on this ride.

As in the case of Ar'alani, the series is far from being concluded, and many are the stories that I still want to share.

I will be here, week after week, for many more glimpses of everything these exquisite characters taught me.

[Photo: One of my most cherished pins. Art by @junchan_nyan_art, pin by @ritarussiandoll_pins]

For life and the light

"All right... but Loden... how will you do that? [...]

"Eh," he said. "I'll probably just trust in the Force or something." [...] Loden laughed. "It'll be all right. Or it won't, but I'll do my best. [...]"

"That sounds like you actually do have a plan."

"I wouldn't call it a plan. It's more like five impossible things in a row. I'm just going to hit them one at a time."

~

Right, right.

With this photo, I would be expected to speak about Avar Kriss.

Again.

But I did already post about her and Elzar, and their dances, and the "Jane Austen Star Wars."

And I'm here, eager to share some GEMS by Loden, which, for me, always sounds like Han Solo would do if he was a Jedi.

So, let me quote him a little longer, while together, you and I, we feast our eyes on the beauty of this pin by @shadowcollectivepins (15 dollars!)

~

Loden had a sense of humor about things that was very welcome among the Jedi. Porter had met many in their Order who took things far too seriously. Life was long, and they had the gift of the Force. Why be stoic? The vows didn't mean they were dead.

~

"I'm here, Loden," Indeera said. "What's happening?"

"A Nihil fleet dropped in from hyperspace, and they don't seem particularly happy," he said.

"Here? That's not possible."

"Please let them know that."

~

"Fools," Loden said.

"What are they doing?" Bell said, lifting his own blade and deflecting a blaster bolt. "I thought you had an understanding with them?"

"They must have misunderstood the understanding"

~

Loden Greatstorm's philosophy as a teacher was very simple: If Bell was theoretically capable of something, even if Loden could do it ten times as fast and a hundred times more skillfully, then Bell would end up doing that thing, not Loden. "If I do everything, no one learns anything".

~

"Why has the Force called us to fight today?" Loden said.

"For life and the light," Bell replied.