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cavernfullofexistentialdread · 1 year

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Ok so rant about Jane Seymour/Doe and why I love both of them to the depth of my soul

CLICK IF YOU WANT A HELLISHLY LONG POST

Jane S. and Jane D. are 2 very similar characters. (Besides the names at least) They are both very sad blondies named Jane who are featured in a single act musical about 6 dead people singing about their lives to win a competition. Wow thats specific

Well, as characters/people they are very similar. They are pushed aside and are considered "weird" in an already kinda out there group. Jane S is considered the only one her truly loved and as the one who didn't end on a bad note with Henrat VIII. Jane D is in Ocean's words; "AND SHE'S A FREAKY MONSTER!". Their also very emotionally driven without being directly moody and acting on impulse so to speak. Their temper and voice's are to be feared as kind as they can seem. Just look at the Queen's fight scene and the line in The Ballad of Jane Doe, "BECAUSE WHEN I GOT TO HOLD MY NEW-BORN SON, DIED!" and "And I'm asking, WHY LORD? Is this the way I DIE LORD?" are the examples that best show this. What makes them both so lovable in my opinion is that they are just so damn wholesome and tragic at the same time. Both of them can't BE in their groups. Doe isn't even allowed to know who she is! (More on that later). Jane S. is teased and mocked for what happened even more than the others! Their not allowed to just BE.

As for why I love them on their own as individual characters...

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JANE DOE/PENNY

Jane Doe is such a special character, she frustrated, she's stagnate. She's in the background. She isn't allowed to BE. Jane isn't in the opening and ending shot. Jane has to be introduced on her OWN. The Ballad of Jane Doe is what I personally like to call "emotion driven medium of beautiful madness". I classify any song that is just supposed to be just screaming, emotion, passion, and various flavors of sadness all thrown into an amazing song that drives the character depicted in the song to their edge as "emotion driven medium". Think "Meant To Be Yours". You just wanna scream these kind of songs out and act like a maniac. The Ballad Of Jane Doe is exactly that. She is so sad and mad and just so full of tired rage. "It's implied the high notes are her screams as the ride shuts down." Click on the official album video of the ballad and that's what the top comment says. "Now that everything is said and done, is there anyone to tell me who I am?". The am has a hint of desperation in it. Just please... just finally say who she is. Her catchphrase and absolute iconic line of "Time eats all his children in the end" is supposed to kind of hint (at least in my opinion) at what her parents were like, as they never showed up and probably just continued on without her. "Time eats all his children in the end" is as pointed out by many as a reference to Kronos, or the greek god of time. Of course my mythology and history nerd self can dump all my info on you, but I won't. To put it simply, Kronos ate all his children as in a prophecy one of his children will overthrow him. However he continued to have children like the lions and eventually it led to Zeus who freed his siblings from his stomach and overthrew him. As for why they reference Kronos, I think it's because in the myth he's this fallen god who's sickly and violent. He's the god of time, this never ending tail of life and death is never ending. The Ballad of Jane Doe is Jane's testimony. A testimony to her pain and impatience at this point, her frustration of staying eternally Jane Doe. A testimony that leads to her finally getting what she deserve. Friends/family. The New Birthday Song entirely captures what I mean. You have to remember, she's NOT Jane Doe. Jane Doe is a concept. Jane isn't Jane, she's PENNY! She's just so interesting is the sense of not knowing where to stand and never being allowed to BE. Oh and also her friendship with Constance and Ocean. (AAAAA THE SILLIES MAKE ME WANNA SQUEAL)

JANE SEYMOUR

"JANE SEYMOUR THE ONLY ONE HE TRULY LOVED!"

"RUDE-"

*ahem* sorry for that. Compared to Penny, Jane is sound. She is stable. She is stagnate, but she isn't trapped in a state of unmoving confusion. What she is a statue long crumpled and forgotten who by now is only known for being another pawn in the Henrat's game of life. (Yes that RTC reference was intended) However she's a stone carving that has "survived" over the years. Her song is about her love for the people around her, even if the feeling isn't mutual. She strives to make her mark. AND GOD DAMN SHE DOES CAUSE I BE SINGING NOTES I WILL NEVER HIT IN THE SHOWER! Her song is sort of a jab as like her cousins. DLYH is pretty obvi in it's joke, AYWD is a little more out there of a reference. Heart of Stone's little nit pick is that "Heart of Stone"'s double meaning, your either stone hearted and uncaring, or your love is set in stone and will always be there. Jane being the latter. She is the mom friend. Her love unbothered. She is an immovable object. And she will remain that way. You need to understand that she is someone dealing with her inner conflict of a love she was never loved by, and wanted to share love with others who only push her away farther. Her role in SIX is strange as like Cathy, she isn't striving for a win, but instead her victory is held elsewhere. She isn't against or with the competition. She just wants to BE. Just like Penny! She wants to hold her ground and shoot up for the stars from there. Jane is loving, caring, yet is filled with underlying sadness, tragedy, and a rage that can be ripped out and screamed. Jane Seymour is a figure to look up to. Alway seeing the positive without blocking out the ugly tears and train wreck. She compliments both Lina and Anne even after they roasted her. She doesn't care, she just wants to set herself down, stay, and tell her message. Her song has NOTHING to do with putting the others down in one way or another and simply directed towards her loved ones. Simply put that she is a mother figure who simply does not care, she is just here to bake cookies and share them with the others. Of course I'm not going to talk about her history with Anne as I don't find in relevant in this, but we can't forget that she can be very emotional in moments of "weakness" so to speak. She's flawed.

Their both flawed. Which makes them all the more human. Penny and Jane ARE human. Not some pawn, not some game, not some head without a body, not some concept. They are their own characters and deserve to be loved and hated. They are works of art in a medium I am eternally loving and appreciative of.

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Thank you for reading my rant as to why I love Jane Seymour and Penny Lamb so much

#jane seymour #jane doe #penny lamb rtc #sorry not sorry #ranty rant rant #god this took so long #but hey #a rant is a rant #ur welcome woof #NO BETA WE DIE LIKE BEHEADED COUSINS #I WILL NOT BE CORRECTING THIS #THIS ALREADY TOOK SO LONG TO TYPE

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bluegreenamber · 7 years

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Your Brother Was a Good Substitute

((AN: Greetings! I hereby bring to you an ancient manuscript from a time in my EW fanfiction writing career long ago. Translation: I was digging through my documents and found this and decided to post it in between stories. You guys remember TimPay, right? I do. Man, I was obsessed with it. I wrote such cringey stuff for it back then. But hopefully this one is good enough to show the world and not become completely embarrassed. You know, I've never really been good with writing Tim. Idk I just don't have his character down completely I guess. Anyways! I should probably warn that there is some suggestive humor and stuff because it is Pay after all. Just in case. This is based on the song "Gold" by Kiiara. Tim belongs to princeofmints and Pay belongs to threehairs.)) The theme was gold. That much was obvious from the second he opened the door. The whole room was filled with gold. Gold clothes, gold accessories, gold decorations, gold lights. The color was everywhere. He didn't quite know what to make of this. But the DJ was blaring music and people were dancing wildly and drinking heavily and enjoying themselves. It was a party, and he wasn't going to complain about the color scheme. His brother tugged him forward, pulling them through the sea of bodies. “He's downstairs.” He nearly had to shout to be heard. Choosing not to attempt to talk over the music and voices seemed the smartest choice, so he simply nodded even though his brother wasn't looking back at him. They finally reached the edge of the crowd and headed toward a door. It was a little quieter here, and they could speak in normal voices. He crossed his arms. “You sure you aren't setting me up with this guy, Pat? Cuz it sure seems like that's what's happening. And I know how much you love playing matchmaker for me.” His brother held up his hands defensively. “I swear it's not. I just thought I'd introduce you to a fellow alcohol connoisseur. And I don't want you to either be a bored wallflower all night or get drunk and take some random person home. Besides, he's not your type.” He raised an eyebrow. “How do you know? I mean, isn't everyone my type?” Patryk rolled his eyes. “No. As much as you may or may not wish that was so, I know you're more picky than you let on. Plus, this guy is really not your type.” “I'm sure I could win him over with my natural charm and a few drinks.” Patryk sighed and opened the door to reveal a stairway leading down to a basement, glancing at him from the corner of his eye. “I'm not sure you want to, Pay.” He gestured to the stairway. Pay shot him a confused and suspicious look but said nothing. He started his way down the stairs. “Good luck,” Pat said. “And have fun. Just not too much.” Pay winked. “No promises.” He descended, and the stairway was plunged into semi darkness as Pat shut the door behind him. ~~~ “So you must be the alcohol guy.” Pay’s voice made the man on the couch jump. He spun around in his seat and stared at the newcomer. Pay noticed his strange black or lack of eyes, light brown hair, and checkered tie. He looked nervous. Not what he was expecting. He reached the bottom of the stairs and took a moment to take in the basement. Luckily, the gold theme didn't seem to have followed him down here. The other man was sitting in a small area with several couches and chairs placed in a circle, a coffee table in the center, and everything sitting on a large shag rug. There was a bar off to the side with a lighted wall and countertop. The farthest corner was too far away from all of the lights, which made it shrouded in complete darkness. He couldn't see anything in that corner. But what really drew his attention was the back wall, the one the man had been facing before he had entered. The entire wall was basically a giant shelf. And there was what he guessed were hundreds of varieties of alcohol in bottles and several kegs of what he assumed were full of more alcohol. It was like a giant wine cellar. So this was why the man had wanted to meet here. Pay turned back to the fidgety man, intrigued. Well if he had wanted to make an interesting first impression by showing him this, he had succeeded. When the man didn't reply to his earlier question though, Pay raised an eyebrow. “Well, are you?” The man took a second to process this before he shook his head rapidly. “No, no. You must be thinking of my brother. He's supposed to be meeting someone down here.” Pay crossed his arms and leaned against the end of the banister. “Where is he then? And what're you here for? You his wingman or something? I swear if Pat really set me up like this…” The man looked alarmed at Pay’s sudden anger. He seemed to be the rather nervous type. “Um… I think Tom went upstairs for a bit to talk to some friends. And he told me to wait down here in case the person he was meeting came. I'm… I'm not his wingman or anything.” “Well then, who are you?” Pay pushed himself off the banister and tilted his head, seeming almost oppressive. The man gulped. “I'm Tim. Tom’s brother.” “You an alcohol guy too, or…?” “No, not really. That's always been Tom’s thing. I just know the basics.” He scrunched his face up. “I don't really care much for alcohol.” Pay sighed. This night wasn't turning out as he was expecting. But maybe he could still make something out of it. He strode over to the couch and plopped down next to Tim, making the already tense man stiffen. Pay lounged comfortably while Tim sat straight-backed and stock-still as if ready to jump up and sprint off at any moment. It was almost amusing. “That's okay,” Pay replied. “I honestly wasn't much looking forward to our little ‘chit-chat get-together’ or whatever anyway. No offense to your brother or anything.” He snuggled deeper into his seat. “So I guess you'll just have to entertain me then.” Tim looked much like a mouse that was being played with by the cat that was about to eat it. “I'm not very good at entertaining, I'm afraid. And I'm not quite sure what you consider ‘entertaining.’” Pay actually laughed. “Oh, so you're the comedian then? This is brilliant!” He looked over Tim’s timidly uncertain face. “It's not that hard, you know. Entertaining me. I have the attention span of a squirrel. There's not much blood up here.” He rapped his knuckles against his head. “I think it all goes--” “Please don't,” Tim interrupted. He suddenly looked tired. Pay grinned cheekily. “What? You too ‘pure’ and ‘innocent’ for a few dirty jokes?” he asked mockingly. Tim looked like he was going to say something but then ended up sighing and shrugging helplessly. “If that's what you wanna believe, then sure.” Pay felt a sliver of concern and curiosity, but he simply pushed it aside and scoffed. “Innocence is for children and fools and people too lucky to suffer in life.” “Am I a fool then?” Tim challenged. “Or am I just ‘too lucky to suffer in life’?” Pay was taken aback by the seemingly timid guy’s sudden anger, but he wasn't going to back down from an argument. “You tell me, Mr. Too Good For Dirty Jokes.” Tim made a face. “I don't think I'm either. Lewd humor is just beneath me.” Pay crawled over, hovering over Tim so that their faces were only an inch apart. “Does that mean I'm beneath you too, Mr. High and Mighty?” he practically spat. His sneer morphed into a devilish smirk. “Because I can arrange that.” Tim shoved him away, and he fell back against the opposite armrest. Tim turned away, facing forward with his arms crossed like an angry child. “Please stop,” he said in the most ticked off tone he could muster. Pay shook his head like a dog, trying to recover from being thrown back. He looked at Tim’s posture and immediately mimicked it, blatantly mocking his childlike behavior. “Would've preferred your brother,” he grumbled. “Don't bring my brother into this,” Tim snapped. “Ohhhh, defensive, are we? What? Are you the stereotypical overprotective sibling?” “Why wouldn't I be? Don't you have anyone you're overprotective of?” Pay’s mind immediately thought of Pat, but he shook that image out of his head. “This isn't about me.” Tim finally turned to look at Pay again, giving him a withering look. “But isn't it? Isn't this all about you? You playing mind games with me? You pushing all of my buttons? You making sure you leave an impression so that I can never forget you? You saying and doing all the right things so that I'll like you?” Pay’s eyebrows furrowed. “I wasn't trying to make you like me.” Quite the opposite, in fact, he thought. Tim laughed without humor. “Well if you are, it's working.” Pay blinked, and it took a moment for the meaning of those words to fully sink in. He smirked. Tim hadn't realized quite what he was saying either, so his words came back to bite him a moment after he said them. He felt like groaning in exasperation of himself, but he refused to let go of his stubborn anger-induced pride and let the other know that he had messed up big time. So he sat back with his arms crossed again. “Did you just say you liked me?” Pay asked with a smug smile. When Tim refused to reply, he continued. “You did!” He laughed triumphantly. “You actually like me!” Then, he tilted his head curiously. “Why?” Tim turned back to Pay, a confused look on his face. “What do you mean ‘why’?” “Why would you like me? I've done nothing but annoy you and be rude to you and make you uncomfortable.” “Well… Why not? You're bold and funny and clever and confident and honest. What's not to like?” “A lot, actually.” Pay stared at the sofa cushions as if they could answer all of his questions in life. Tim glanced at him, and his anger melted away into concern. He wanted to move closer and give some kind of physical comfort, but he feared that that would be overstepping his boundaries. “Look,” he started softly, “I don't know what you're going through or what kind of self-doubts are going through your head right now. But I think you're pretty cool.” “Thank you.” Pay’s voice was a little rough, as if it hadn’t been used in a while. He didn't look up. “But one opinion isn't going to change the world’s.” Tim thought over this. “Maybe not the world’s. But maybe it could change someone’s world’s.” Pay bit his lip. He hated this. He hated being this weak and vulnerable and having to have someone comfort him. He had to get out of here; he had to run from his weakness like always. He stood to go. Tim looked up at him, alarmed. “I'm sorry. Did I say something wrong?” Pay laughed without humor. “No, you're fine, darling. I just gotta go. Can't keep the brother waiting too long.” Tim stood as well. “Wait. Let me… let me get you a drink at least. That's what you came down here for, right? To talk about alcohol? It'd be a waste of time if you didn't at least sample some of my family’s best.” Pay paused thoughtfully. Tim had a point. Plus, Pay would never admit it, but he didn't really want to leave Tim. He charted it up to his conscience making a sudden appearance and guilting him into not leaving the poor guy alone in a basement. He nodded to Tim’s request after a moment. Tim smiled and moved to behind the bar, gesturing for Pay to take a seat at one of the bar stools. Pay complied and watched as Tim pulled down some shot glasses. “What's tickling your fancy tonight, darling?” Pay raised an eyebrow at Tim’s not-so-subtle mocking of his earlier nickname. “I'll have a shot of Jack Daniels, handsome.” “Coming right up, beautiful.” Tim went over to the “Great Wall of Alcohol,” as Pay had deemed it, and searched through it. He came back with a bottle and tipped its contents into a shot glass, looking surprisingly at ease as an impromptu bartender. “There you go, princess.” “Much obliged, charming.” Pay downed the shot in a second, making a contented noise at the taste and the slight alcohol buzz he was already starting to feel. “So how's the taste, Cinderella?” Tim asked, pouring another shot. “Wonderful.” Pay downed this one as well. “And I think I'm more of a Sleeping Beauty.” Tim poured a third shot then raised his hands defensively. “Well, excuse me then,” he said in an exaggerated tone. Pay tipped back the third shot. “Simple mistake.” Tim put the bottle and shot glasses away, saying, “Don’t want to get you too drunk. I'm sure your… uh, brother wouldn't be too happy.” Pay was a bit disappointed that he wouldn't be able to completely drink away his problems tonight, but the part of his brain that was still thinking logically agreed with Tim. And maybe… maybe he wouldn't want to forget tonight. So he nodded and stood. “Thank you for the drinks. And… for your words.” Tim nodded acceptance, and Pay made his way to the stairway before pausing at the first step. “Don't you wanna come up and join the party? I'm sure your brother wouldn't mind at this point.” Tim hesitated. He wasn't much for parties and kinda wanted to stay down here where it was quiet and alone for the rest of the night. But one look at Pay’s kind and understanding face had him making his way to the stairs almost subconsciously. “Sure. Sounds like fun.” He flicked off the lightswitch to the basement, and they were plunged into darkness. Tim could barely see Pay’s eyes in the dark. But he could feel Pay’s hand as Pay grabbed onto his own. He squeezed Pay’s hand comfortingly, and Pay squeezed back. He set his jaw determinedly. They made their way upstairs. ~~~ “Is that… Pay? With… Tim?” Tord had sat down on one of the many gold bar stools and had immediately spotted the couple having the time of their lives in the middle of the dance floor. “Yup,” Tom and Patryk, who were sitting on either side of him, said simultaneously. Tord glanced at each other them, a bit incredulous by their calmness during the situation at hand. “And you two are… okay with this?” Both looked thoughtful for a moment before once again replying “Yup” at the same time. Tord sat back in his bar stool, baffled. He thought about saying something, but there was really nothing to say to this. So he watched the two on the dance floor and sat with their respective brothers. He noticed that one from each pair looked slightly tipsy, but he didn't comment on it.

#writing kat #ew fanfiction #your brother was a good substitute #bring back TimPay 2k17

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