Rise Up, Oh Heart, For There is Another Battle to Win

sroloc--elbisivni asked: in the vein of the previous ask, if I'm not being annoying--top six animal forms you would choose to morph into?

YOU ARE NEVER ANNOYING ME WITH ASK MEMES.  Okay, because I am the way I am, the morphs are split up by function rather than ranked, there are more functions but these are the six morphs I would really really want.

Wolf: Battle Morph

Wolves are tough, powerful, and they have hella stamina on the run or in a fight.  If I wanted more agility, I’d go timber wolf, if I wanted power and bulk I’d get an arctic wolf/Yellowstone wolf because they’re about the size of a small pony.  I’ve always loved wolves, they’re just absolutely stunning animals, and while I lived out in MT I saw a wolf pack face down a hungry grizzly bear, and that means I have capital-R Respect for them.

Grizzly Bear: Battle Morph

Um, we’ve covered that I’ve wanted to be Rachel since I was Smol, right?  But that aside, for just pure crushing power, a grizzly is a good bet.  Grizzly v. car ends with a totaled car, I know this from seeing the effects, and they can truck along at a good 30 mph given the inclination to do so.  Their vision is for shit, but like.  They can also swat a person’s head clear off their shoulders like a fucking soccer ball.  Who the fuck needs good vision, I don’t even have that as a human and as a human I can’t bat someone’s head off their shoulders.

Red-tailed Hawk: Recon Morph

So, my logic here.  First of all, the vision.  A bird of prey is the perfect morph for recon because vision.  No point getting up close and personal with your target when you can follow them leisurely at half a mile.  Second of all, red-tails are the most common hawk in the Americas, and they thrive in just about every habitat warmer than ‘Arctic’ and wetter than ‘desert,’ which makes them much less remarkable than, say, a bald eagle (I love Rachel).  Third of all, and this is the reason I went with a more noticeable raptor rather than, say, a rat with wings (I live on the coast and my view on seagulls is…not generous), a hawk is actually worth something in a fight.  A female red-tailed hawk can push a five-foot wingspan with a razor-sharp beak and talons, and even the smaller males have the speed and natural weapons to make a menace of themselves in a fight–a seagull, on the other hand, might blend in with the crowd, but they also have fucking webbed feet.  And finally, Christ, if I’m going to turn into a bird I’m going to turn into something that can soar for hours, not flit from roof to roof and eat Subway sandwiches momentarily set aside by their owners.  In summary: bird of prey.  Also Tobias was a fave so I’m predisposed toward red-tails.

Cat: Recon Morph

Okay, hear me out here: alley cats as spies.  Cats can hear through walls, there’s literally no reason not to use one as a spy.  Stick me on a roof, I’ll eavesdrop all fucking day (with breaks every two hours for demorphing).  Also, while cats aren’t very big, they’re generally pretty good in a fight (as anyone who’s been scratched up by an otherwise-friendly housecat will attest) and they’re pound-for-pound one of the most efficient predators in the world.  On top of that, stray cats are a common thing in any city–roll around in some dust to scruff yourself up and walk like the streets are yours.  Beats the everloving hell out of a housefly morph.

Dolphin: Water Morph

Literally who doesn’t want to be able to turn into a dolphin.  No one, that’s who.  I fucking love dolphins.  I think I made a comment about this in this write-up, but I’m pretty sure being able to morph, and being able to morph dolphins in particular, has great potential as a treatment for depression (assuming you’re not, you know, the last bastion of defiance against an alien invasion).  I’d like to submit my name to that clinical trial, someone hit me up.  Also, I’m not a confident swimmer but I love the water, so being a dolphin would be EXACTLY aligned with my interests.

Snake: Fun Morph

Am I picky?  No.  Would this morph literally ever be useful?  No.  Do I just really, really want to turn into a snake?  Yes.

Anonymous asked: So about this Jedi AU I see that you have all the things about John and Ham but what about Burr? Ham and John have perfect moral compass that doesnt stray but what about Burr and maybe straying between Jedi and Sith and getting corrupted by TJeff idk

All right, my bespectacled buddy, how fortunate, because I have Thoughts about Jedi Aaron Burr.  Also, there is now a tag for this AU.

I suppose I should mention that I actually have no idea where the Sith fit in this universe.  For a story of sweeping good and evil, the Sith and the Jedi are the logical ends of the spectrum, but a revolution…isn’t that simple.  For every General Benedict Arnold ready to turn on his country for wounded pride, there’s a plain soldier ready to go too far in defense of what he believes is freedom, ready to tar and feather someone for the crime of an accent or a birth–the line blurs.  The opponent of a revolution is, in fact, lack of emotion.  Passion drives a revolution.  The Jedi…are not at ease with this.  Honestly, the Sith are probably sitting in some corner of the galaxy sulking over the fact that they are suddenly quite superfluous.  Between the Empire and the Continentals, there’s more than enough chaos to go around.

• First, Aaron Burr is actually the best Jedi–he’s not like Washington, putting up a good facade while he gets secret-married and bides his time for a revolution, nor like Lee, who basks in the glory and honor of being a Jedi Master.  Burr really believes it, there is no emotion, there is no ignorance, there is no passion, there is no chaos, there is no death.  He’s uncannily good at it, taking whatever the universe throws at him with the same serene smile.  He’s so good at it, in fact, that his Master, upon recommending him for Knighthood, added that they would do well to find him something to fight for.  That he could be great, if he had something to fight for.
  
• Even a Jedi needs ideals, is the thing.
• The first time Burr meets Alexander Hamilton, the feral Force user challenges him with if you stand for nothing, what’ll you fall for?
• He…doesn’t have an answer, he doesn’t even think he understands the question, and that…that’s new.
• Aaron Burr goes to Washington, with his glowing Jedi record and an offer of help, and it goes about how it did in reality/the musical.
• Washington: I am in dire need of assistance!
• Burr: Hey, I am 100% down to be a secretary.
• Washington: It’s not that dire, take it easy.  Hey, angry fighty barely-not-a-teenager Hamilton, you want a job?  No?  Sure you do.
• Aaron is left standing there, overwhelmed with emotion for the first time in his life, and the envy is almost baffling.  But it’s all right, it’s fine, he can take a couple of deep breaths and let it go, there is no emotion, there is no passion, and he smiles and smiles and nods and takes the command he’s offered as…the word consolation rises in his mind and he dismisses it with a vengeance.  Aaron Burr is a Jedi, like his Master and her Master before her, and his Master crafted a new lightsaber form, she was a genius, her Master did a lengthy stint on the Council, he commanded respect–no lineage of theirs is unstable enough to need consoling.  He has a legacy to protect.  The hot twist in his gut is only discomfort at how wrong-footed Hamilton makes him, the rushing in his ears only the Force spinning wild in the war.
• Aaron Burr fights in the war.  Makes quite a name for himself, actually, as crisp and efficient in every way.  It’s not a bad reputation to have, especially once he brings that reputation to bear and puts down a mutiny about a year before Monmouth.  Admittedly he’s not close with his men, but that’s fine.  He’s a Jedi, their commander, and that’s all he needs.  Even once he suffers a mild Force burnout and a much more serious heat stroke over Monmouth, he is still of use to the army, even if he can’t fight anymore, and that’s fine, that’s enough, he’s all right with that, because there is peace, serenity, harmony, Force.
• He crosses paths with Hamilton often, the man apparently permanently installed in Washington’s orbit, opposite Lafayette and beside Washington’s own padawan.  Burr refuses to admit to that flare of bitter heat through his chest every time Hamilton comes bounding up to him, grinning, and greets him like an old friend, spilling joy-irritation-grief-anger-laughter through the Force.  Hamilton is a never-ending torrent of emotion, always preferring to fight a battle rather than let it stand, and just being around him feels like it’s contagious.
• It doesn’t help that Aaron still feels (or rather, refuses to feel) that twist of envy every time he watches Hamilton spin words out of thin air, feels him move through the Force like he’s a part of it–abrasive and emotional as he is, Hamilton is better than Aaron, and he doesn’t understand why.  Peace over emotion, serenity over passion, and yet…and yet Hamilton is wild as anything and still better.
• It’s made worse by the fact that Hamilton doesn’t seem to notice.  He considers Burr a friend, and he thinks Burr is brilliant–that’s just how he works.  Hamilton doesn’t grant friendship to fools, and therefore all his friends must be as wickedly knife-edge sharp as he is, Laurens and Burr and Lafayette and Washington and, and, and….
• Hamilton is a hurricane, and all that can be done is to let him sweep you up and trust that you’ll understand eventually.
• He is not, cannot be, will not be jealous.  He is a Jedi and he will let go his emotions and if letting go feels more like swallowing down, these days, then surely it is only the stress.  He just needs to meditate.  It will go away.
• And now here is a question.  Suppose a man spends all his time, for years on end, forcing himself into the trap of the Jedi code and withstanding Hamilton Feeling in his direction constantly, whether it’s the man’s oddly pure and childlike delight with having friends or his eternal aggravation with Burr’s indeterminate politics and philosophy and everything else.  Now suppose that man finally, finally, loses his temper.
• How do you suppose that such a thing will erupt?