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Evolution

[info - personal]thefourthvine is thinking about Major Fannish Events she wishes she'd seen. This is my story.


My high school best friend and I had already seen the re-releases of the original Star Wars trilogy in the theatres, and we'd had a blast, and we'd watched tiny children have lightsabre fights in the aisles before the show, and we'd had our own, and we'd waved hello to the TA from our fencing class.

So we were primed for the new movie. I didn't have a TV then either, so I was pretty well insulated from spoilers. We decided to go all out. Shawn (my then best friend) had just had a hair disaster. I helped him shave off the frizzled remains, then he took spray paint to his dome and I helped with the detailing, and soon he became R2D2. We stopped by my parents' house, and I soon became Leia (white gown, black yarn rats to fill up the crazy enormous buns), and Rocki borrowed my Yoda shirt. (For all I know, he still has it.)

There was a news crew there. First they interviewed the guy in a full Darth Maul costume. (I didn't know who Darth Maul was, from not having been spoiled at all.) They had a few words with Shawn, who was notable for being over six feet and having the top of his head painted like R2D2. I was in the background; I hoped they'd ask who did the painting, but no such luck.

We watched the movie. Unless a movie is absolute shit, I am not much for criticism after I've watched it. I came out utterly high and determined that someday I would have enough hair to replicate some of the effects that Queen Amidala had going on.

I got sucked into the Sith Academy after that. Movie was cheesy? Midichlorians? No problem. Let's write crackfic. Let's introduce Miss Lunatic to slash for the first time (and make her like it). Let's make her wish she didn't live in Alaska. Let's contribute to compulsory "SITH LORDS KICK ASS!!" here and there. Let's give a fangirl her wings and teach her to fly.

(The Bujold List was my nest. Sith Academy was my launchpad.)
Gone away, gone ahead,
Echoes roll unanswered.
Empty, open, dusty, dead.
Why have all the Weyrfolk fled?

Where have dragons gone together
Leaving weyrs to wind and weather,
Setting herdbeasts free of tether;
Gone, our safeguards, gone, but whither?

Have they flown to some new weyr
Where cruel Threads some others fear?
Are they worlds away from here?
Why, oh why the empty weyr?

-- "The Question Song", Anne McCaffrey
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