Hi!! You're free to ignore this if it doesn't interest you ofc but I wanted to talk a bit about the "Aventurine racism" thing. It's mostly people not reading things right and misinterpreting things (as always.)
Aventurine is said to be Sigonian, a race known for being untrustworthy. Now, "Sigonian" is not a reference to any real place or community, in any language. It's entirely made up and exists only within the honkai universe. The reason people started speculating that he is Romani is because he calls himself "Avgin", which the game translates as "honey", and "Avgin" is indeed the romani word for "honey". This, of course, doesn't prove he's Romani or based on any Romani culture at all, but people took it and ran with it.
Ratio called him "Sigonian thrall" and, since Romani people have suffered a lot with slavery, people started freaking out. The thing is, Aventurine is a slave, but it has nothing to do with any Romani inspiration or traits he might have. Aventurine is a slave because he works for the IPC, and a good majority of IPC workers are enslaved to the IPC. He's not even the first character to be shown to have a branding mark. Topaz, who I didn't see anyone complaining about, is also enslaved to the IPC and has the same marking on her neck.
It should also be noted that although both Sparkle and Ratio were racist towards Aventurine, the "race" being discriminated against is entirely fictional and not meant to represent any real ethnicity or culture. We should keep in mind that the story is set in a magical universe, and we have nearly no information on Sigonians or Sigonia-IV.
Personally - and this is just my own theory/interpretation - I don't think Ratio was being racist at all. Judging by how the IPC operates, Sigonia-IV has most likely been destroyed or suffered a great disaster, so his claim of Aventurine being a "Sigonian thrall" could've been just a mention to how he has nowhere to run from the IPC, since his home world is gone. Also, Sparkle is just mean, and not really a trustworthy source of information - her comment on Sigonians being notoriously untrustworthy could be her own personal opinion rather than fact (of course, we don't have enough information on this to claim that it's just her opinion, nor that it isn't.).
Sorry for the long ask! I also have more to say about the possibility of Aventurine being romani if it interests you, based on him being a Su expy.
thanks for explaining this further, i dont really have anything add to it other that i share your interpretation there but i think its interesting for the others to see as well (this entire topic is tiring me out but mostly bc of some ppl taking it to extremes or making stuff up to prove their points. thanks for taking the time to write and explain all this!!)
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I was inspired by the lines of playing a warlock from the game, and I really wanted to describe the psionic mind fucking from your patron. Yes, it took an unexpectedly large plot for this
Everything was going so well and fast, wasn't it? All such vile problems with illithids and maggots promised to end with a crown of divine power on your master's head. Raphael's stories and dreams have just been passed on to you, and you set off through the back streets of Baldur’s Gate to continue your journey. However, this sunny warm day was suddenly replaced by darkness and cold....
A dull blow to your head and rough palms that pull you by the arms into the alley.
Next, the cloth cloth of the bag is on you, your twisted body and the smell of dust. Gradually, he was completely blown out by the icy wind as the noises of the two loud kidnappers grew louder. They argued and grunted until your head was completely lost in space due to the chaotic shaking.
Soon the cold disappeared, the smaller bag remained on your head, and your hands were handcuffed. You were led for a long time, supported by scaly hands, through the corridors in relative silence.
The bag was abruptly ripped off your head and you were blinded by a golden light. Your eyes adjusted in a few seconds and you stared at the huge figure in front of you. The devil was sitting on the throne and you realized that it was Mephistopheles. There were removed portraits in Raphael's archive, and when they were examined, the most unsuitable for his style was found. They were similar in face, but the style of clothing, facial hair and the shape of the horns were definitely not in Raphael's preference. The portrait was engraved on the frame "Archdevil of Cania Mephistopheles, beloved father" you then winced when reading and Raphael's brief answer was enough to understand their relationship to each other.
But now he is in front of you and you swallow realizing the depth of your position in hell.
Its horns stretch upwards and then to the sides, separating like a red deer. He has a beard on his red face, and his wings hang loosely behind his back. A black robe exposes the chest and hides everything else, you wonder if there are hooves under this dark cloth.
The golden eyes sparkle at you with interest, and the face smiles like a winner.
"So you're Raphael's special interest, aren't you. Tell me how my son is doing."
He throws a brief hand gesture, leaving you at a loss. What should I tell him? Is Raphael okay?
"Em... He makes deals and conducts typical devilish business"
Your mouth dries up from such a weak potential of eloquence. You are nervous and look down at your hands, they are in iron shackles and covered with frost, your hands are pale and how strange that you do not feel cold. The desire to move them loses out to weakness, which, along with the cold, spreads from the iron on your hands.
"No, little lamb, I want to hear the answers. They say he is more active than ever, what inspires him to do this?"
Again, my head is empty, what kind of question is this anyway?
"Em... his ambitions? He's your son, what else can you expect from him. And by the way, I think he won't really like it if I say too much..."
You blurted out your thoughts as if they could change your position. Nevertheless, keeping at least something in mind seemed like hard work. The power emanating from the archdevil made you lower your head and press your neck into your shoulders.
"That's how things are... Then let's make it easier"
Mephistopheles shifted his support to one hand and looked somewhat disappointed. He lifted his wrist up and with a lazy movement of his fingers, pain pierced you. It was as if these fingers pierced your temple, and an invisible force prevented you from pulling away or indicating your pain. The last thing you see clearly is the face of the archdevil in front of you before your gaze is covered with white smoke.
Further events continued to happen without your will. You hear Mephistopheles' questions, you hear your mouth answering him, but the pain in your head makes you want only to lean back and squeeze something in your teeth.
Your head turned out to be a place of battle because you clearly felt two presences. One is seeking from Mephistopheles, and the other is protecting from your patron. The first one inexorably cut through the passages in your brain as Raphael's defense retreated further and further. It was unbearable that you couldn't even show your trembling. There was a taste of blood in your mouth, and warm trickles flowed from your nose when you felt that Raphael's presence had disappeared. Before you is the laughter of the devil, and then the sounds when you talk about the Crown of Karsus, that one of the thieves was an old guest of Raphael, about the plans of the dead trinity and about such lucky adventurers that they almost handed the crown into the hands of his son and, of course, about his plans to conquer hell.
Your story ended, and you felt that any intrusion into your head had stopped.
The haze in your eyes remained only along the contour when you were forced to look up exactly into the face of Mephistopheles.
"Tell me, little lamb, does my son love you?"
He leaned forward a little while sitting on the throne, waiting for your independent answer.
"I... I don't know
You spoke uncertainly. It was unpleasant to move your lips while droplets of blood from your nose flowed into your mouth, and you couldn't stop them with your shackled hands. You cringed, expecting another intervention in your head, but it did not come. Only the Archdevil's evil and low laughter followed.
- Of course he loves, otherwise he wouldn't have been so compliant in protecting your little head and you'd be dead. He had the opportunity to defend his plans, but he didn't do it.
He leaned back in his chair and he didn't even need to voice an order for you to be taken away, he just waved his hand towards the doors.
This time you were led through the corridors without a bag on your head, but after all you were not up to examining the interior. Soon the golden environment turned to gray and you were thrown into a prison cell. Three cold walls of iron bars and one cold wall of stone, next to other similar rooms. At first glance, they are empty, but in the next one you notice a lump of clothes, it seems bones are visible at the edges. This image of a former prisoner flashed through your mind as you leaned against the wall and slid down it powerlessly. The cold enveloped you like a blanket when you felt the air burning your lungs more and more.
It is not known how much time has passed, but someone was shaking you, there was only a warm dark spot in front of your eyes, and a hum in your ears instead of a voice. It is interrupted by a sharp pop and a flash when, instead of the cold of kania, the heat of averno pinches you.
Your vision thaws and you understand the picture. Raphael is hugging you to him in the middle of the portal room. He is on one knee when your back is on the other, and his hands are hugging your face, threatening to leave a characteristic burn on it. There are new emotions in his face-worry and regret.
"My treasure, I'm so sorry."
He's talking to you.
Someone quickly distracts his attention. His face returns to its usual expression when he barks an order in response.
Your jaw thawed only after you were loaded into a warm regenerating pool, right in your clothes so that it would not burn your cooled skin. Only your head was lying on a cushion by the pool, and Raphael was sitting next to you, holding his hand in your hair.
"I... Raphael.... he asked, and I had no choice...."
You wanted to apologize and tried to find the words, but they didn't come to you.
"Shhh... Sweet, it doesn't matter. It's not your fault."
He told you to be silent and his words thawed your soul.
It's important that you're here. It begged to jump off Raphael's tongue, but he restrained himself. He's already fallen too low today. It is unlikely that Mephistopheles really cared about his son's plans, he only wanted to harm him. And there was no better way to do it than through you, a concentration of his potential power held together by affection.
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somehow I have never in my life made the connection that eye patch glasses would exist until I saw your Meilin
oh yeah, there's a few styles of those around!
I've never actually seen the specific kind of asymmetrical blacked-out lens that I draw hers as, since it's one of those cases where the simplest solution (wearing a normal patch under your glasses) is often the least annoying to deal with, but I've seen people wearing a patch over one lens (in the form of a sleeve) and I've had friends who wore one frosted lens, so it's kind of an extrapolation of those two concepts
not really the most imagination-stretching concept in the Kishar System setting, not even specifically in the realm of disability aids, but Meilin's style of spectacles are definitely still something that you won't see a lot of in the real world
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