dragonlady7

Aug. 15th, 2016

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lookninjas:

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Star Wars: The Force Awakens Northern Michigan AU

When Ben Organa left his home and his parents and his whole world behind to join the First Order Militia, he thought he was going to change the world. Then Leader Snoke told him exactly what that meant, what Kylo Ren was meant to do, and everything fell apart. With no other options in sight, he grabbed the only person he could save and fled north, to the small towns, dark forests, and rough roads his father used to travel down. He might manage to find a new identity somewhere in Northern Michigan, assuming the world doesn’t end first.

Finally posted the latest installment!

So May the Sunrise

Somehow, Ben slips through her fingers without her ever feeling the loss, the way he trickles away, piece by piece. Without her even knowing it, he’s been stolen from her bit by bit, until there’s nothing left of him except his raised hand, his smile, and a hole in her heart in the shape of her son. It will take thirteen very long years for him to finally make his way back home.

(Or – I like to listen to Upward Over the Mountain and think about Leia Organa and her son and cry and cry and cry. You might like it too.)

Fic rec. Really really really fic rec.

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Dude came out and visited me for the weekend, which meant I looked at my computer for a matter of minutes over the course of the entire weekend, instead of like, an hour, which is more my usual speed lately (as opposed to the like twenty hours I normally spend on my computer on a weekend!!!).

Anyway. I’ve written nothing, I’ve thought about almost nothing, I’ve been running around. At least I’m sort of healthy; I survived the awful heat/humidity thing we’ve been having lately.

I left my camera in Dude’s car and he just left to drive back to Buffalo, though, so – none of my photos of this weekend will be showing up anytime soon. We went to Bennington VT and discovered that it’s the anniversary of the Battle of Bennington. I was rather proud of myself that off the top of my head I was able to tell Dude the short version of not only the conflict but also its longer-term outcomes for the conflict overall– 1777, late summer, Burgoyne is on his way down from Canada trying to split New York in half and meet up with the troops occupying NYC, and he stalls out in northern NY and sends off a sizable raiding party, mostly Hessian mercenaries, to go seize supplies and weapons from a supply depot in Bennington VT. The raid fails; they are headed off about 10 miles away in Wallomsac (Hoosick Falls), in NY, by a larger US/Continental/NH force (and some Vermonters fighting under their own flag because this was the wild frontier). Not only did they not get the supplies, but they lost the Hessians, either killed or captured. It was a devastating blow to Burgoyne, not least because his Native American allies mostly took it as a sign that this war was not going to be the easy reconquest the British had promised, so they mostly fucked off to go back to handling their own concerns, leaving Burgoyne without local allies. This set him up for defeat in October at the Battle of Saratoga.

In turn, that defeat was a major turning point for the US gaining international recognition, and is largely why France sent aid, and why the US eventually won the war.

I knew all that off the top of my head (except I couldn’t remember when the battle of saratoga was; a couple of months later, but I had thought the battle of Bennington was much earlier in the year so I was astonished to discover that the whole town was basically shut down to celebrate the anniversary of it; as a kid I mostly visited Saratoga’s battlefield in summer so in my head the battle must have been in the summer, and it absolutely was not) so I was very very smug about all this the entire time we were at the monument. I am a delight, I promise you. But, I mean. This stuff all happened like ten miles from where I grew up and my mom was a huge nerd about it– actually both parents were huge nerds about it, I exist because they met doing re-enactments for the Bicentennial– so like. It makes sense. I’ve just been so dumb lately that it sort of blew my mind that I Still Know Stuff OMG.

Anyway. So, there’s that tiny shaft of light. All else is sort of dark; I’m behind on everything, there’s correspondence in scattered piles all around that i haven’t answered, I’m sure that there’s even more that I read and said “oh hm yes” and was delighted by or interested in or whatever and formulated a response only in my head and so have never answered but believe i have. Etcetera.

I haven’t forgotten about Poe and Finn and Kes, and the Internet, I just haven’t had time to do anything about it.

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Slept in the house last night, for dude’s last night in town, because sister and husband and baby were out of town overnight (they went to Ithaca to look at a combine harvester and stayed over with a friend, since my sister went to Cornell and still knows people out there)– figured someone should be in the big house. Plus the yurt got interiorly-damp in one of the bazillion torrential downpours over the weekend, and I spent Saturday night sleeping on a wet pillow because of it. Ugh.

So today I went out to tidy up the yurt after dude’s visit ended, and oh my gosh spiders oh my gosh. The normal number of wolf spiders were doing their usual thing, plus a magnificent and ambitious Spotted Orbweaver had begun to set up a web from the tono’s center hole down to the handle of the umbrella, and from there I think to the bed, and I was not excited about this. So I took the umbrella out, and then detached the fabric screen circle I made that covers that hole, and pitched it out the door, with the big wolf spider and the ambitious orbweaver still clinging to it. I came back later, retrieved the fabric thing, shook it out, rinsed it well, then doused it in citronella and peppermint oil before putting it back into position.

Sorry, bros. I just can’t deal.

Then my dad showed up, as he’s doing various small repairs about the place– well, some large and some small. I got to exploring with him, a bit, and discovered that the loft of the granary has a beautiful double set of doors that are still fully functional. Got both open, and found some graffiti in very old-fashioned handwriting.

That’s dad’s hand; he’s checking the math in the lower pencil inscription.

He also thinks he possibly found the original front door key, which he’s been trying to reverse-engineer. So he’s borrowed it to take it home and see if it works in the rebuilt lock.

Never a dull moment around here. I don’t think I could collect my thoughts if I tried, though. I stink of peppermint oil but that’s just as well.