“I didn’t give in to evil. Not now. Not ever. And you only win now because I let you win.”
*Then Vader ends up confusedly kicking some empty clothes around, like it’s laundry day, and wondering what the hell happened. He is so utterly perplexed and unsatisfied.*
Master vs. Student. But Obi Wan always owned Anakin’s ass at the end, didn’t he?
I’ve said before: I do, frankly, love the
fact that Obi-Wan’s death scene is one gigantic mind game:
Hey Anakin, I was
still alive after all;
I’m here for
reasons you don’t totally understand and I won’t disclose;
I’m facing off
with you for some reason when surely I know I can’t beat you now;
Oh BTW, this
kid you’ve never seen before, who has Force Waves radiating off of him, came
here with me;
I’m not gonna
tell you who the kid is;
I’m not gonna
tell you what I meant when I told you that killing me would only make me
stronger;
I’m gonna cap
this all off with physically becoming the
Force right in front of you, which is something you maybe had no idea was even possible;
Well, have fun trying to figure all this out, Anakin! Sure
looks to me likeI might still have
the high ground after all. CHECKMATE, MY
VERY YOUNGAPPRENTICE. KENOBI OUT.
one of my favorite tropes of all time is when the author tries to replace curse words with a more ‘family friendly’ alternative or invent new words for worldbuilding purposes but they use existing words that make the whole thing unintentionally hilarious out of context
“He didn’t want to disturb the silence as they rested against each other, hurting and relaxed, listening to the hum of machinery and the distant billowing of fires. He stowed thoughts of old missions and thoughts of the future away; decided to focus on what he could see and hear and smell for the last moments of his life on Scarif.”
It’s been a whole year since Carrie Fisher’s passing and I still can’t believe she’s not with us anymore. Seeing her in all her glory on the big screen for the last time was truly mesmerizing and heartbreaking. I miss her so much 😦
hi i’m kitty i don’t know anything about star wars whoops
“What am I looking at?”
Lando leaned forward and laced his fingers together. “My taxes.” He paused, then gestured to Han. “Our taxes,” he corrected, with an unnecessarily rakish grin.
Leia squinted at the datapad. “Tax fraud.”
“Oh, no no no. Absolutely not. My accounting is impeccable.”
“I don’t see how it could be,” she said. “He’s a smuggler.”
“Hey,” Han began. He shut his mouth when Leia leveled him with a look. He opened it again to persist, but saw that Lando had a shit-eating grin as he watched their argument-in-potentia. Han glowered at Lando, and made him grin wider. Han huffed, hooking his thumbs on his belt.
“Legally, he’s a long-haul transport navigator,” Lando said, and Leia snorted. “Because he has a spouse at home—me—he qualifies for a higher income deduction as well as a few credits unique to the profession.”
“Wait, credits?” Han asked.
“Because he’s my dependent,” Lando continued, ignoring him.
“The hell I am.”
“That puts me in a unique legal position—not many people know about this, but in order to incentivize long-haul transportation, a spouse who claims a long-haul transport navigator as a dependent qualifies as a household caretaker, which is a kind of head of household that’s able to claim significantly more not only for themselves but for any other dependent spouses they may happen to have.”
“But his transport isn’t legal,” Leia said, fascinated. Han was pretending to understand the conversation, which would have been more convincing if he weren’t already fiddling with a kinetic sculpture on one of Lando’s shelves.
“It’s art.”
“What?”
“As far as my taxes are concerned,” Lando said, “Han transports art. They can’t prove that it isn’t. And I’m always careful to get the valuation right.”
“How do you know what I transport?” Han asked, indignant. A piece came off the sculpture in his hands. He looked down at it, then looked at Lando. He made a hasty attempt to reattach the piece. The entire sculpture collapsed. Han took his hands from it, and attempted to lean casually against the shelves with his elbow to block it from view.
“They call me,” Lando said.
“No,” Leia gasped, delighted.
“Yes,” Lando said, grinning again. “They know I’m his partner. They know I can’t be sure I’m getting my fair share unless I know exactly what he’s getting. So they call me.”
“What!” Han stood straighter, his brow furrowed and his face all twisted into an incredulous pout of anger.
“They might have been able to catch him smuggling,” Lando said to Leia, still not addressing Han.
“They would never,” Han sneered.
“But they’re never going to get him on tax evasion. There’s no way he would have been paying taxes on his own.”
“It never even occurred to me that he would,” Leia said.
“I’m right here,” Han reminded them.
“So you can see why I can’t divorce him,” Lando said.
“I don’t follow,” Leia said.
“My household caretaker status is the foundation of all of this,” he said, pointing to the datapad. “I divorce Han and the whole thing collapses.”
“Collapses how?” Leia asked, narrowing her eyes.
“Cloud City goes bankrupt.”
Han choked.
“How many people have you married?” Leia demanded.
“Leia, you know that you’re my favorite wife-in-law,” Lando said, “but I don’t think I’m comfortable discussing that aspect of my personal life.”
The pile of former-sculpture slid from the shelf, and clattered to the floor.
i'll apple your turnover 