The end

Why is happiness so capricious?

When we are happy we laugh.

But life is like a game, and, way too often, happiness goes away.

The dream about faithful love is over before we know it.

Why is happiness so capricious? And why is joy so short?

Often life is so absurdly hard.

Smiles turn to tears before sunset.

The one you care for, the friend you think cares for you, maybe he'll leave you.

Everything you promised and swore to is forgotten.

The words you whispered to me, I believed them.

But never again I will have such confidence.

Everything I've hidden in my heart, you just forgot it.

Why is happiness so capricious? And why is joy so short?

Often life is so absurdly hard.

Why, then, do we trust in love?

~

A truly meta caption today, so bear with me.

Lars Mikkelsen, the wonderful actor that gave Thrawn his voice in "Rebels", recorded "Hvorfor er Lykken Så Lunefuld" —Why is happiness so capricious— a classic Danish jazz song, written in 1937 by the singer and composer Karen Jønsson for the feature film "En fuldendt gentleman" —A complete gentleman—.

[You can find Lars' version on YouTube]

Danish is not exactly among the languages I attempt to speak, so I had to do a little bit of research and editing for translating the lyrics.

But, then, my heart!

The quintessence of Thrawn's tragic ballad of his persistently tragic life.

All the friends he lost.

Farewells, following each other interrupted.

Why is happiness so capricious?

Why is joy so short?

[For sweetening a little the angsty post (or making it even harder to swallow), I decided to pair it with a photo I wanted to take for a long time, featuring a sublime gift I received from @psiibee. Note also that, as stated, I do not speak Danish, so the lyrics above may be not correct at all. Let me know if I completely misunderstood something]

Prepared

Perfectly imperfect

"It was time to move on.

He’d been in motion since that dark day, years earlier. The darkest of days. [] Depa Billaba fought to protect him—and he fought to protect her. She died. He fled. She died so he could flee, but to what end? [] The young Caleb hadn’t known. He’d known only that, in the end, the Force hadn’t helped her. []

The Force was a death mark.

The early months had been a blur of terror for young Caleb. [] But weeks turned to months, and months to years, and no one came to his home—or cot, or tent, or patch of spacecraft floor—to wake him and drag him away. And the young man now known as Kanan Jarrus discovered that carousing eliminated those worries entirely.

So he’d done more of the same. He’d drunk to forget. He’d brawled to let off steam. He’d taken the dangerous jobs to fund his lifestyle—and then began it all again. He wasn’t some chivalrous nomad, skulking from planet to planet doing good deeds and leaving when things got too hot.

No, he left when things got dull. When the drinking money ran out, or when the bar-owner’s daughter suddenly wanted to marry him. []

And he also left whenever he got too comfortable. That was when the Force, tired of being suppressed, would sneak back like an ignored pet.

He didn’t want it complicating his world, making him feel like somebody’s prey again. And he didn’t like being reminded about what had happened in that other life."

~

"I see... fear."

"In the spiders?"

"Ezra!"

"Ah, your thoughts dwell on your apprentice."

"He's in danger."

"No! No. It's not Ezra or the spiders. It's... It's me. Fear, grief, anger, that's how they see me. That's how I see myself."

"Ah, your sight returns."

"I distanced myself from everyone. From the Force too."

"Your connection to the Force allows you to see in ways others cannot. If you can see yourself, you will never be truly blind, Kanan Jarrus, Jedi Knight."

"I understand."

"Where are you going?"

"Ezra needs me. They all do."

~

My head is just empty, my heart is full.

Magnificent.

Cocky yet insecure.

Rigorous yet kind.

So human. So divine.

So perfectly imperfect.

[Photo: stunning figure by @gentlegiantltd, finally in my grabby hands. Background by @cherriielle ]

Because I was in love with you

The craft of the Warrior

"Strategy is the craft of the Warrior. [] In strategy it is important to see distant things as if they were close and to take a distanced view of close things. [] [The warrior] know(s) the smallest things and the biggest things, the shallowest things and the deepest things. As if it were a straight road mapped out on the ground. [] The principle of strategy is having one thing, to know ten thousand things."

~

"In strategy, your spiritual bearing must not be any different from normal. Both in fighting and in everyday life you should be determined though calm. Meet the situation without tenseness yet not recklessly, your spirit settled yet unbiased. Even when your spirit is calm do not let your body relax, and when your body is relaxed do not let your spirit slacken. Do not let your spirit be influenced by your body, or your body be influenced by your spirit. Be neither insufficiently spirited nor over spirited. An elevated spirit is weak and a low spirit is weak. Do not let the enemy see your spirit. [] In all forms of strategy, it is necessary to maintain the combat stance in everyday life and to make your everyday stance your combat stance."

~

Miyamoto Musashi (宮本 武蔵) was born in the Harima Province in 1584. A rōnin at a time when the samurai were formally considered to be elite, but actually had no income unless they were landowners, Musashi pursued his spiritual enlightenment through kendō (剣道, "sword way").

Considered one of the most skilled swordsmen in history, he created and refined a two-sword technique called niten'ichi (二天一, "two heavens as one") or nitōichi (二刀一, "two blades as one"), in which the warrior uses both a longer (daitō, 大刀) and a shorter (shōtō, 小刀) blade at the same time (pair: daishō, 大小, "big/small").

[And, yes, you DO understand this reference]

The quotes above, redacted, are from "Go Rin No Sho" (五輪の書, "The Book of Five Rings"), a -messy yet enjoyable- compendium of Musashi's teachings.

Of which, clearly, Thrawn has multiple copies in all his datapads.

[Photo: mindblowing Japanese-inspired Thrawn patch by Patchlab.de]

Working site

Nerd

Do not stop me

Because of Obi-Wan

"You are quite the general now, aren't you, Master Kenobi?"

"Forgive me for interrupting, Your Highness, I meant no disrespect."

"Really? Senators, I presume you are acquainted with the collection of half-truths and hyperbole known as Obi-Wan Kenobi?"

"Your Highness is too kind."

"You're right. I am."

~

My very own and personal desire?

Six episodes in which nothing substantial happens (sand, Luke playing in the distance, sand, Luke whining in the distance, sand) except Obi-Wan speaking to Qui-Gon in his head like a broken record, basking in the harrowing pain of his regrets.

Accompanied by a plethora of detailed and extremely angsty flashbacks, of course. Yes, the whole "collection of half-truths and hyperbole" tormenting his exile for nineteen years. And, please, with the lancinating awareness of everything he did NOT say.

Am I too brutal?

Very possibly.

But she was wonderful.

Witty, kind, intense.

And too selfless. Too caring.

Too in love.

"Remember my dear Obi-Wan, I loved you always... I always will."

Fine.

Do I believe Satine's fate (or the fate of the whole Galaxy) all to blame on Obi-Wan's unspoken words?

In spite of myself, no.

[But, damn if I condemn the writers]

She could have a long, powerful, meaningful life.

*They* could have a long, powerful, meaningful life.

"I thought she meant something to you."

"She did, and still does. But I cannot allow my feelings to cloud my judgment."

No? So, tell me, Obi-Wan.

Where did you get this brilliant idea that "feelings" are so "wrong" that "cloud" our judgment?

That feelings cannot, instead, be acknowledged, understood, so to base balanced decisions *considering* them, as they ARE part of our reality? Part of the truth?

Stars, this makes me so frustrated.

[And, yes, it was a rhetorical question. I perfectly know where he got the memo]

So, here again.

Despite my best efforts, I cannot survive a caption trying to speak about how magnificent and perfect Satine Kryze was, without rotting internally.

"Because of Obi-Wan".

[This was supposed to be a sweet and lovely and flowery Spring caption]

[Facepalm]

[Photo: @maxxmerch pin on the most delicious and beautiful cookies I ever ate: a gift by @meltarien]

Saturdays

Protect them at all costs

"You take everything Grand Admiral Thrawn says as words carved in stone, don't you?"

"Hardly," Faro said. "I've disagreed with him on more than one occasion."

"And yet I imagine you always let him get his way?"

"He’s my superior officer," Faro said stiffly. "There’s not *a his* way and *a my* way, and I don’t let him do anything. He gives the orders. I follow them."

"And he’s always right?"

"No, of course not," Faro said. "No one is. But when he’s wrong, it’s usually because he has insufficient or faulty information, and he’s always quick to correct any false steps."

~

“I’m sorry, Supreme General,” Samakro said evenly. []

Ba’kif eyed him. [] “You don’t like Thrawn, do you, Mid Captain?”

Samakro hesitated. “Permission to speak honestly, sir?”

“Certainly.”

“No, sir, I don’t,” Samakro said. []

He seemed to brace himself. “But that doesn’t really matter. He’s an excellent commander, and he knows how to handle his ship. Even his most outrageous hunches are generally proved correct, and he always brings us through whatever storms we find ourselves in. Always.”

“You sound like a good first officer,” Ba’kif commented.

“Which is also the point, sir,” Samakro said. “I’m the Springhawk’s first officer. Senior Captain Thrawn is the Springhawk’s commander. Whatever I might personally think of him is completely irrelevant. I’m an officer of the fleet, he’s my commander, and I will follow him and obey his orders to the best of my ability. Period.”

~

“Admiral?” Biclian asked, frowning at her.

“I was going to offer a thought, but I don’t want to influence your analysis,” Ar’alani said. “Carry on.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Biclian turned back to his board.

“If you can’t tell him, can you at least tell me?” Wutroow asked.

“I especially can’t tell you,” Ar’alani said, giving her a wry smile. “Your brain is the one I rely on to make sure mine is functioning properly.”

“Ah.” Wutroow gave Ar’alani a sideways look. “Always something of a disappointment when you open up a compliment and find a no wrapped inside.”

“Patience is a virtue,” Ar’alani reminded her.

“So I’ve heard. Not a big fan of it, myself.”

~

I will protect these characters at all costs.

Finally continuing my "first officers" series (started with Faro), I am unable to express properly how deeply grateful I am to Mr. Zahn for this feeling that warms my heart while reading about this large and beautiful (found) family.

Bonds

Ahsoka cut and slashed her way toward him. He wanted to tell her to save herself, to run and not stop running until she was back with Kenobi and Rex. And he’d have expected her to run just as he told her; not because she’d follow orders, but because he felt that, in the end, nobody would save him in the way he so desperately wanted to save them.

But he didn’t get a chance to find out. She stopped dead in the crowd of droids and stared up past him at the wall.

It wasn’t until she reached out her hand and he felt what she was doing that his stomach lurched.

She was Force-pulling the wall down on top of him.

“Don’t move, Skyguy …”

“Don’t!”

“Trust me. Don’t move a muscle.”

“No! No!”

He was plunged into rumbling shadow. [] I’m dead, I’m dead, what a stupid way to go—

It took him a few moments to realize that the wall hadn’t crushed him. []

“Are you okay, Master? Come on, we can’t hang around.”

Anakin looked up to see an outline of a small figure with head-tails. []

“How the— [] You could have killed me!”

“No, I knew exactly what I was doing.” Her tone was faintly offended—Anakin could hear it despite the ringing in his ears. []

Anakin felt both angry and churlishly ungrateful at once. She’d saved his life. []

Did he really need rescuing by a green Padawan who’d landed only a few hours ago?

She reached down into the pit and extended an arm. “Come on, Skyguy,” she said. “Rex is counting on us.”

~

After this first, on a random day in Crystal City, Ahsoka saved Anakin's life something like a gazillion times.

Smashing, crashing, exploding.

Not unusual, sure, between a Master and a Padawan.

Yet, their sweet way of constantly looking after each other is my favorite part of Clone Wars.

Witty exchanges, small gestures.

The unspoken unbreakable bond.

Curious how Jedi, abhorring any form of attachment, systematically forced two random people to care for one another.

Sharing EVERYTHING.

For years.

I grow fond of my mugs, after a few months of use. I cry if they broke.

How not feel utterly devastated if the most important person in your life leaves you?

On a random day in Crystal City, Ahsoka saved Anakin's life.

Unfortunately, not the one that mattered.

[Photo: @ritarussiandoll_pins pin, @crazy_toma777 art. That Anakin's look over Ahsoka's smile. It's perfection. In the background, @poppourrico mouse ears]

Our Endless Spar

Ziara felt a flush of irritation. She was the upperclassman here, not him.

If there was anyone who should be reciting lessons and offering analysis, it should be him, not her.

Which was, she instantly realized, about the stupidest thought she’d ever had in her life.

Only a fool passed up an opportunity to learn.

“I realized you’d figured out my pattern and changed tactics,” she said. “And it worked, at least for a couple of attacks. Then you attacked, and after that I was never able to get through again.”

“Do you know why?”

Ziara frowned, thinking back over the fight… “I went back to my old tactics,” she said with a wry smile. “The ones you’d already figured out how to beat.”

“Exactly,” Thrawn said, smiling back. “A lesson for all of us. In moments of stress or uncertainty, we tend to fall back on the familiar and comfortable.”

“Yes,” Ziara murmured, suddenly noticing where she was relative to him. Well within attack range… and she’d never explicitly stated the bout was over.

The moment of temptation passed. Just because she hadn’t officially stopped it didn’t mean it would be fair to unilaterally start it up again.

Thrawn had behaved honorably. She could do no less.

“And the care you put into the sculptures shows you have too much honor to play shoddy tricks against a sparring partner,” Thrawn added.

Ziara felt her face warm. “You sure of that?”

“Yes.”

For a long moment she was again tempted. Then, spinning on her heel, she stalked across the mat and returned her sticks to the weapons rack.

“Okay,” she said over her shoulder as she started pulling off her sparring armor. “I’m impressed. You really think you can do the same thing with alien cultures and tactics?”

“I do,” Thrawn said. “Someday, I hope I’ll have the chance to prove it.”

~

Immediately after curiosity is a choice, only a fool passed up an opportunity to learn is my second favorite quote in the whole Star Wars literary opus.

Both sentences show pretty clearly how extraordinary Ar'alani and Thrawn are, and how compatible are their spirits.

Tactics, politics, diplomacy, empathy.

Improving, learning from one another.

A spar lasting their whole lives.

Canonically Beautiful

“Why am I hearing reports of a Nihil loss at Dalna?” Marchion Ro asked.

He slumped in a massive chair that looked down on those occupied by his Tempest Runners, seeming for all the stars bored by the conversation.

It gave Nan a thrill every time she saw him like this: helmet off, black hair free to hang over his bare, leathery skin and his star-marked shoulders.

His pitiless eyes were all black, and Nan stood close enough that she could see the slight ruffle on the edge of his ears.

No one knew just who Ro’s people were. Every time someone asked him his species they ended up dead.

He was as deadly as he was beautiful, and Nan counted herself lucky to be allowed to occupy the same space as him.

~

Look.

Sometimes I really try my best to write long, in-depth takes about SW characters and stories.

With Marchion, I did it, maybe, a couple of times already.

But no.

This is not one of those posts.

And, shamelessly, I planned this superficial, fangirling, idiotic caption since I read that sentence in "Out of the Shadows."

In August.

LAST YEAR.

Six months for sharing a post with the only intent to state unequivocally that Marchion Ro, is, canonically, beautiful.

No, like, seriously.

We *see* that Anakin is gorgeous (!), or Obi-Wan is mind-blowingly handsome.

[Listen, I do not like the character alright, but he is **Ewan kriffing McGregor**. And I have, well, eyes]

But was he ever *described* as attractive?

Or Ben? Or Rey?

Or, even, Thrawn?

[He is "slender", he is "tall", he has "regal confidence"... but I do not recall he was ever noted as "good-looking"]

Marchion?

BOOM. THERE.

"As deadly as he was beautiful."

And, damn, I feel you, Nan, I feel you.

[Photo: the first face appearance of Marchion, in The High Republic Adventures #5]