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generation1point5 · 1 year

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My hottest take about the game-that-shall-not-be-named is that the discourse campaign was never intended to be successful. Anybody with half a brain cell would have known that the boycott effort was doomed from the beginning, as all consumer-side activism ends up. There is no ethical consumption under capitalism; that was already known. The structure of oppression would not be fundamentally be affected by the push. Trans people already knew people didn’t give a shit about them; the legislation being passed in state governments without so much as a peep from everyday people already speaks volumes about it. This was never about logic, reason, or some clear identifiable or feasible political goal. For all intents and purposes, the discourse is, fundamentally, an emotional reaction. That does not make it invalid; it merely serves as the context by which these actions should be read and interpreted.

The crossover into the progressive sphere is then framed inevitably into a question of “does my consumption on non-essentials trump the feelings of a marginalized group I claim to care for?” This follow-up argument bears additional nuance on a number of points, and a lot of bitter truths that, if not worded properly, will come off as paternalistic. But it is worth examining; there is a difference between paternalism and letting liberal, reactionary behavior undermine real potential for material, social progress. Ultimately, it is a question of whether the struggle is worth the actions taken to perpetuate it, or if it should die as a pure and noble ideal in some sort of romantic tragedy.

To preface where I stand on this matter; I reject all notions of the death and undercutting of a movement so that it remains “pure.”

To put it in Marxist terms, there is a reason why the French Revolution never ended with a commune and why it took Lenin to guide a country into the USSR. There is a necessity to separate the (very legitimate!) feelings of individuals as part of a marginalized group and the activism that enables and empowers them in material, significant ways so that they are no longer in a place where their greatest fight has to do with whether people buy the videogame of an IP belonging to a billionaire, psychotic TERF who shunts the royalties for even further acts of oppression.

There is an unfortunately bitter pill to swallow in the liberal notion that a marginalized group cannot produce ideas counterproductive to the dismantling of their disenfranchisement. Empathy is the basis for all ethical politics, but in of itself wholly insufficient as a means of devising a coherent political solution to the structural portions of the problem. Just look at the Moralintern from Disco Elysium, and you’ll see the endpoint of that line of thinking.

There is a reason why the fight against capital is infinitely more empowering to black people than black capitalism. Actionable, material plans to end the marginalization and oppression of trans people must be kept at a healthy distance from the sensitivity that is a result of the systems that have relentlessly fucked them and has only grown severe over the past years. It is entirely understandable and necessary that trans people are given a voice and a space for which it is used, but the actions taken in response to them are by no means beholden to each and every one. Trans people are obviously not a monolith; the solution likewise comes not in choosing whichever voices you agree with or attempting to satisfy all of them, but in critically examining the means by which the underlying needs that give rise to the many voices can be met. Soft science as it may be, science is still science; the analysis for these needs must undeniably be materialist.

Ultimately, the discourse over the game must be understood not as a normative assertion to be followed blindly, but as a descriptive statement that embodies an extremely bleak situation that trans people face. In the interplay between giving voice to the marginalized and effective advocacy, there is an inevitable fear and distrust from the trans community of every out-group. The reasons for the trans community being in siege mentality is obvious; this has no doubt only been reinforced by the popular reception of the game-that-shall-not-be-named today. Their only recourse is to lash out to the people most sympathetic to them. Such is the state of their disenfranchisement. I have already spoken at length about the need and the value of any ally worth their salt to take these outlashes as symptomatic of a much deeper issue. But with regards to working towards a solution, we are yet at a crossroads.

To build material, political power, a minority must build a power base; if there is insufficient means to accomplish this within their own group, then they must reach out to others to build alliances. Inevitably, the reply will certainly be “with allies like these, who needs enemies?” Their distrust is indeed merited; but that distrust can easily lead to cynicism, and from there, to a political nihilism consigned to self-destructive behaviors. Already, I suspect that the discourse erupting over this game is a quiet, even subconscious admittance from many that this is the best that they can hope for, to chirp into an empty and careless void heedless to their suffering. For my own part, I think there is still a sizeable pool of allies able and capable of helping build that base of power, but believing that will take a lot of patience, trust, and longsuffering along the way. What is being asked is nothing new; it has already been given in spades, to little avail. It is easy to draw conclusions that hope for change is false, that it is all for naught, or that the value derived from the struggle has now passed permanently into history, into memory as a romantic vision of a flowering ideal cut short by a cruel and bleak reality. The actions derived from these conclusions are at irreconcilable odds with those who believe that real, lasting change is still possible, and the infighting between these two fundamental beliefs is, I believe, at the heart of what we see unfolding in our current discourse. As someone who has passed from cynicism to working relentlessly for progress, I hope that we will one day reach a solidarity capable of meaningful change beyond our current disputes. To the broader community, this has been nothing more than a brief annoyance that they’ll never think twice about for the rest of their lives, and no amount of discourse will change that.

#personal #blogging

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homoose · 3 years

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Teach Me Something I Don’t Know: Part I

Summary: When Will asks him to pick Michael up from school, Spencer may or may not develop a schoolboy crush on the kindergarten teacher.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff

Warnings/Includes: none

Word count: 2.5k

a/n: Here she is! I’m not sure exactly what it is about Spencer Reid x teacher!reader, but it is my most requested fic topic, and I am happy to oblige! This is the first in a multi-part series. Weird is Good also takes place in this verse. Any teacher!reader requests will be folded into this verse as well, so feel free to continue sending me those!

Series Masterlist

Click here for the story mentioned, read by everybody’s fave Michelle Obama.

———

“A strong geographical profile is one of the most important pieces of the overall behavioral profile; it significantly narrows the area the team has to cover, allows for law enforcement teams to prioritize and maximize limited resources, and helps focus the investigation in conjunction with the other elements of the profile. And that wraps our section on building geographical profiles!” Spencer smiled at the faces in front of him, gesturing to the board. “The information we covered today will make up a significant portion of your midterm, so make sure to review it before next week. See you all next Thursday!”

As his students began packing up their things, Spencer’s phone rang from inside his bag. When he retrieved the phone and saw Will’s name on the caller ID, his brow furrowed in concern. “Will— everything ok?”

“Hey, yeah, yeah, everything’s fine,” he assured him. “I’m sorry to ask, but JJ’s on a case, and my partner and I just finished our last call clear on the other side of the city. Henry’s got soccer practice, but Michael’s gotta be picked up in about— well, shit, right about now. Would you mind picking him up and bringing him ‘round to the house?”

Spencer looped the strap of his bag over his shoulder and started up the aisle out of the lecture hall. “Yeah, of course! It’s over by the Naval Observatory, right?”

“Yeah, that’s the one. If you pull ‘round the parking lot, they usually come out the side door. His teacher’s real sweet, Ms. Y/L/N. I’ll let her know you’re picking him up.”

“Okay, sounds good.” Spencer pushed open the door and made his way down the hall.

“You’re the best,” Will drawled. “I’ll only be about half an hour.”

…

When Spencer pulled the baby blue Volvo into the parking lot of the school, he saw Michael and Ms. Y/L/N sitting on the steps of school. Their heads were so close they were almost touching, looking down at a book laying across their laps. Her legs were stretched out straight and she pointed down to the page, saying something that made Michael throw his little head back in a laugh that floated in through the open window of the car. Spencer grinned at the familiar sound as he pulled around the carpool loop.

When he recovered from the giggles, Michael caught sight of the car and waved his hand excitedly at Spencer. Ms. Y/L/N looked up and gave a wave as well, albeit a little less vigorous. She closed the book and turned her torso slightly to unzip Michael’s backpack and drop the book into it.

Spencer put the car in park, stepped out, and walked around the car to meet the two of them. Michael was already up and running, throwing himself at Spencer’s legs and hugging them tightly. He leaned down to return the hug. “Hey, buddy! How was school?”

“It was amazing,” Michael gushed, pulling out of the hug to gesture wildly. “We learned how to write the zzz sound, and now we know all the sounds! Oh, and then we used blocks in math, and that was so fun, because Ms. Y/L/N let us build with them when we were done counting. Oh, and then we learned about frogs, and they are so cool. Did you know that frogs have night vision? Oh, and Ms. Y/L/N said I could borrow my favorite book from the classroom library! She read it to me already while we were waiting for you, but maybe you could read it to me, too? I can read some of the words but not all of them yet, so I still need some help.”

Spencer smiled widely at him. “Wow, that does sound like an amazing day. I did know that about frogs, actually! And of course, I’d love to read with you.”

“The book’s called Giraffe Problems, and it’s about this giraffe named Edward who doesn’t like his neck.” Michael looked at Ms. Y/L/N. “What’s the turtle’s name again?”

“Cyrus,” Ms. Y/L/N reminded him.

“Right, Cyrus.” He looked at Spencer. “See, that one is tricky because c’s don’t usually make the sss sound, but sometimes they do. Ms. Y/L/N’s teaching me about it, even though she said it’s kinda hard for kindergarten.”

“Because you’ve got a big, powerful brain, right?” she said, tapping her temple and winking at Michael. “I’m Ms. Y/L/N, by the way. You must be the infamous uncle Spencer. I’ve heard a lot about you.” Then she smiled at him and his big, powerful brain melted inside of his skull.

Michael continued talking, and Spencer briefly wondered if this is how people felt when he rambled. Michael lost his attention immediately, because all he could do was stare at Ms. Y/L/N. Her eyes glinted with humor as he chattered on. She followed his expressive motions with well-timed nods and mhmms, a skill she’d no doubt honed through years of indulging kindergarten babbling. She met Spencer’s eyes every so often, only a slight eyebrow raise indicating her amusement. Her hair had been tied back, but soft pieces had come loose throughout the day, falling into her face and around her shoulders. Up close, he could see that the print of her collared a-line dress was hundreds of green frogs. On her feet were a pair of beat up, low top converse, and Spencer thought he could physically feel the crush branding the chambers of his heart. He was jolted out of his thoughts by Michael’s hand tugging on his pant leg, and he looked down to see him looking up expectantly.

“Sorry, what?” Spencer asked him.

“I said,” Michael repeated with a sigh, “can we look up the author and see if he has any other books?”

“Oh, um, yeah. Of course, buddy.”

“Jory John has lots of amazing books,” Ms. Y/L/N confirmed. “You’ll love the series he wrote with Pete Oswald.” She smiled at the pair of them before checking her watch. “I’ve gotta go pack up, but I’ll see you tomorrow, Michael.” She winked at Spencer, and he almost swallowed his tongue. “It was nice meeting you, uncle Spencer.” She waved again and then turned up the stairs to disappear into the building.

Spencer let out a breath he didn’t even realize he’d been holding, and then turned to Michael. “Well. All right, are you ready to go home?”

…

They were settled into the car and halfway home before Michael finally needed to take a breath. Spencer capitalized on the break in conversation.

“So, Ms. Y/L/N seems pretty cool,” Spencer hedged.

“Yeah, she’s the best,” Michael confirmed with a nod. “On Fridays she lets us put on the smocks and paint. And she has really good story voices. Oh, and she also has these really cool blocks that stick together—magnet blocks. And when I fell off the jungle gym and got a big scrape, she gave me a Paw Patrol bandaid! And she gives great hugs.”

“Good story voices, huh?” Spencer met Michael’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “Better than mine?”

Michael tilted his head in deep thought. “Hmmmm. It’s pretty close. Your wizard voice is good, but she does accents.”

Spencer blew out a dramatic breath. “Guess I’m going to have to up my game.”

“You’re gonna have to practice a lot, because Ms. Y/L/N reads to us every day.” Michael raised his eyebrows in a challenge.

“Hey!” Spencer looked incredulous. “I read every day, too!”

“Yeah, but do you read with story voices every day?” Michael clarified.

Spencer sighed. “Well, I guess not.”

“It’s okay, uncle Spencer,” Michael soothed. “You can’t be the best at everything.”

“So they are better than mine?”

Michael pressed his lips together, and Spencer almost laughed at how much he looked like JJ. “... maybe.”

…

A trail of shoes and school supplies led to the couch, where Spencer and Michael sat shoulder to shoulder. They were on their second read of Giraffe Problems. Spencer took a long, dramatic breath before launching into Cyrus’ banana speech, and Michael burst into a fit of giggles. With his best theatrical voice, Spencer read down the page. “Yet, day after day, I’ve felt like such a fool as I stretched my neck toward those greedy branches, only to be limited by my own physical shortcomings.” He flipped the page and changed his tone. “You… want a banana from a tree?” He looked at Michael and said, quickly and in a low voice, “That’s what I said, yes.” Michael wheezed out another laugh.

Spencer finished the story, Michael mouthing the words along with him. When they reached the last page, Spencer softly closed the book and propped his feet up on the coffee table. “That’s a pretty great story.”

“Yeah,” Michael agreed. “Ms. Y/L/N said she likes it because it reminds us that we gotta love ourselves and our bodies for how they are.”

Spencer nodded. “Absolutely. We’re all different, and that’s what makes us special.”

“Yeah. I just really like when he’s wearing all the scarves.” Michael burst into another fit of laughter, and Spencer couldn’t help but laugh with him.

The front door opened, and Will was smiling as he stepped over the threshold. “I could hear y’all laughing all the way down the sidewalk.”

“Daddy!” Michael jumped up from the couch, and Will bent to scoop him up, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“Hey, kiddo. Sorry I couldn’t pick you up. It sure sounds like you and uncle Spencer had fun, though.” He shot Spencer a wide smile.

“We read Giraffe Problems. Can we read it again later?” Michael asked.

“Sure thing. We can read it before bedtime.” Will set him down, furrowing his brow. “Wait, Giraffe Problems? Is that a new one?”

Michael shook his head. “Ms. Y/L/N let me borrow it from the library. I have to give it back in two weeks.”

“Man, Michael, you really lucked out, huh?” Will posited. “Ms. Y/L/N is so good to you.”

“Jeez, everybody’s saying that today,” Michael sighed. “Yes, Ms. Y/L/N is amazing, we all know this.”

“All right, sass monster. I didn’t know uncle Spencer thought she was amazing, too.” Will grinned. “We gotta go pick up Henry in a few minutes. I’ll get you a snack, and you can pick up your things?” He gestured to the mess of shoes and school supplies in the foyer.

Spencer smiled sheepishly. “That’s probably my fault. We were just so excited to read the book.”

“Ah yeah, I know how he gets.” Will crossed to the kitchen. “A one track mind, that one. Thanks again for picking him up today.”

Spencer stood from the couch and followed, hands stuffed in his pockets. “It’s no problem at all! I can do it any time.”

“Well, I don’t want to bother y—”

“It’s not a bother!” Spencer schooled his voice back into a normal register at Will’s raised eyebrow. “It—It’s not a bother at all. I, um— I have a lot of free time when I’m on sabbatical. Especially since I’m only teaching one course this semester. Plus, I love seeing the boys.”

“I’ll remember that.” Will smiled. “So… Ms. Y/L/N’s amazing, huh?”

Spencer just knew that his cheeks were as red as the apple Will was cutting up. He tried to shrug nonchalantly. “Yeah, she was— she was really nice.”

“She’s not bad looking, either,” Will supplied. When Spencer’s mouth fell open, Will continued, “What? JJ thinks so, too. Don’t tell me you didn’t even look, because I know that’s a lie.”

Spencer sputtered, “I— well, I—”

“Daddy, can we get an ice-cream on the way home?” Michael interrupted, completely unfazed.

Will laughed. “Saved by the bell, uncle Spencer. Yeah, buddy, we can get ice-cream.”

…

“It’s not weird to look her up. I just want to know more about the person who’s educating my godson,” Spencer tried to reassure himself as he pulled up the school’s website. He scrolled to find the teacher pages, a little smile crossing his face when he saw Ms. Y/L/N’s picture— white ruffled shirt, red bow, and black hat. A perfect tribute to Mary Poppins.

He dropped his smile. “She barely said five sentences to you, and you didn’t say anything back.” His eyes wandered over the links on the side, landing on the About Me section. “But she did say she’d heard a lot about you, so it’s only fair that you get to know a little about her.” Against his better judgment, he clicked the page link. A photo of Ms. Y/L/N— grinning and holding a very distraught-looking black cat— popped up on the screen, and Spencer laughed aloud.

I grew up on a farm outside of Fayetteville, NC before moving to Boston to complete my undergraduate degree. I moved to DC to earn my Master’s in Early Childhood Education, and I have been teaching here for 8 years! I love working with young learners, because children grow so much in their foundational years. Watching a child have a lightbulb moment is one of my greatest joys. When I'm not in the classroom, I love to read, travel, play scrabble, and spend time with my cat Roald (pronounced Roo-all)!

Spencer scrolled through the pictures of Ms. Y/L/N and her students. There were pictures in their “smocks,” which Spencer discovered were really just old t-shirts. There was one of her in the middle of some very animated story telling, and another of a field trip to the zoo. In each one, the smiles beamed out through the computer screen in a digital portrait of unbridled joy, contagious even over the waves of the internet. Smiling to himself, he clicked on the tab labeled Teaching Philosophy.

I believe that every child is an extraordinary and essential piece of our classroom puzzle. In order to nurture the unique individuality of each of my students, I work hard to make our classroom a safe, positive, and supportive community where students are given the space to express themselves. Our classroom culture is also one of kindness and creativity, where each individual is valued and celebrated for who they are!

Spencer swallowed the unexpected lump in his throat as he thought back on his own school career. While his teachers had always appreciated his intelligence, he honestly couldn’t recall a moment where he had felt valued for just… being himself. The majority of his time in school had been spent unsuccessfully fending off bullies, completing other students’ homework, or being gawked at like some sort of alien. He was grateful that Michael would hopefully never go through anything like what he’d experienced; at least not while Ms. Y/L/N was around.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he leaned back in the desk chair to pull it out. He swiped it open to read the incoming text.

JJ: So......... you like Ms. Y/L/N, huh? 😉😉😉

Spencer: What?! Did Will tell you that? I didn’t say that.

JJ: Some things you don’t have to say out loud, Spence.

———

Tags: @spacedikut

#spencer reid #spencer x reader #spencer x y/n #spencer x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #dr spencer reid #professor!reid #professor!spencer #teacher!reader #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds self insert #homoose writes #TMSIDK

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paradife-loft · 4 years

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why the nie sect leaders’ inevitable death by qi deviation isn’t (just) about the sabers

(now at AO3!)

So, okay, this is a meta I’ve been working on/wanting to write/dropping hints to various people about now for quite a while! I think it’s significant thematically to some of the main questions MDZS/CQL asks, about cycles of justice and vengeance, the tension between personal agency and aspects of a situation outside one’s control, and good intentions often not being enough on their own, particularly to forestall problems resulting from imperfect or fatally flawed means to an end.

As a fantasy story, I think one of the strengths of MDZS/CQL is how it uses magic to reflect aspects of its thematic questions in certain cases as literal external forces, events that exist in a format outside just a character’s internal journey. The metaphors and proper social and personal orders these characters live by, have very real physical consequences in the world that result from the existence and manipulation of magical/spiritual energies.

And to my view, the part of this that I want to make the case for here, is how this relates to the Nie sect’s cultivation practises, and why I think the clan’s history of leaders succumbing to instability and qi deviation is a more complicated interplay of a few different factors, rather than just an externally-imposed illness whose source is purely their saber spirits.

* * *

Like, okay. The characters and narrative do, in fact, spend a lot of time discussing the Nie sect leaders’ early violent deaths in the context of their sabers’ spirits becoming angry and aggressive and affecting their mental and spiritual stability. So it makes sense to focus on those actual items as the essential reason behind why they qi deviate and end up dying the way they do. But there was something… logically unsatisfying to me about the idea that just the number of edges on your bladed weapon would make such a difference that sword spirits (also generally used for killing! because they’re also deadly weapons!) are apparently morally neutral but sabers, on the other hand, just Cannot Stop with the killing once they’ve gotten a taste of it.

But if you take an experimental step away from the idea that sabers must somehow be Inherently Different from swords in their response to violence - what possible explanations are left? Or, asked a different way - what makes the Nie sect’s ideological cultivation focus distinct from other sects’? The Lan focus on regulation and self-restraint as the path to goodness; the Jiang focus on self-knowledge and following what you know as right even against difficult odds; the Jin seem to emphasise value in beauty and unique rarity… and what the Nie seem to place the most value on, is dispensation of justice and abhorring evil, even to an extent that refuses attempts at compromise.

The only problem is, the justice that they (and plenty of others) seem to focus on most often, is justice for capital crimes - paying with a life for a life - and no matter how righteous and justified the motives, what this still ends up with is a spiritual path that spends a comparatively awful lot of time on seeking others’ deaths. And we see, throughout the story, more than one thematic hint that this is maybe not the best method for moving toward harmony or immortality.

Lan Qiren’s impromptu quiz of Wei Wuxian when the latter is fucking off in class. His example problem specifies the resentful spirit was an executioner in life (societally-sanctioned to kill others for heinous crimes), and Wei Wuxian notes that one who’s killed so many is a very likely sort to become a resentful corpse; meanwhile his many victims also remain tethered to cycles of vengeance and anger, able to be easily stirred up into a force of resentful energy that would target him if their corpses were disturbed.

The dialogue between Wei Wuxian and Fang Mengchen in the Burial Mounds after the attempted siege turns into the major sects being saved from a trap. It’s all very fine and good to hold a grudge, to see a lack of justice for a harm that can’t ever be undone or repaired when the one who caused it gets to be alive and well (or even not!), but as Wei Wuxian says - what are you going to do about it? It’s so easy for there to always be a wrong that needs righting (in a real or alleged guilty party’s blood). But will it get you anywhere? Can a person, can a society, mete out justice or vengeance once and have that wipe the slate clean, or will the wound reopen again and demand yet more suffering? Where does it end?

The discussion about the Nie’s ancestral saber halls with Huisang, where Wei Wuxian notes that the method of suppressing the saber spirits edges rather close to demonic cultivation. In literal terms, that question seems to be directed at the actual use of evil individuals’ transforming corpses to contain the sabers’ power. But I think the entire conversation, and Huisang’s need to swear them to secrecy and enlistment as backup if other clans find out and get angry, contains a certain amount of thematic subtext reflecting not just on the saber tomb itself, but the Nie clan’s cultivation as a whole. These are significant and revered family heirlooms, not easily or justly discarded, but maintaining them isn’t without cost, and the spiritual fallout rests on the edge of a knife, needing the perpetual presence of an evil to fight to remain in balance: the saber tomb is both the literal and metaphorical end result of the clan leaders’ cultivation path.

“But why,” you may ask, “if the principles underlying the Nie sect’s whole culture have an edge that’s sharper and more harmful to the user’s qi than other cultivation philosophies of the rest of the sword-using sects, do we only see “death by qi deviation” as an issue for the sect leaders, and not more widespread among a larger portion of the disciples?”

And that’s where the “(just)” part of the title of this post comes in, because that aspect is where the difference comes down to the sabers - or, specifically, the named sabers that have spirits of their own. The spiritual sabers aren’t bloodthirsty and excited to haunt and/or kill people right out of the gate, but rather, as Huisang explains, they become restless after spending their wielder’s lifetime destroying evil. A cultivator and their spiritual tools develop a relationship over time, as their cultivation is practised and refined - they bond, they recognise one another, and crucially, they seem to be able to share a kind of spiritual feedback loop, with the energies and intentions of one connecting to and ideally bolstering the strength of the other. The Nie clan in general seems marked by particularly strong relationships between individual cultivator and weapon, considering the sabers’ refusal to allow a clan leader’s descendants to inherent them, and both the circumstances of Mingjue’s father’s death and his own trauma reaction to that death.

So in this case, the illness and eventual qi deviations the Nie clan leaders suffer, the way the saber spirits come to weigh on their minds and emotions, make sense to me as a confluence of the particularly close bond and almost spiritual symbiosis between wielder and weapon, and the particular subject of emphasis that the clan leader lives by in how they train with and use that weapon. Focusing on justice as killing, as violent destruction of evil (the last resort one should aspire to after other solutions have failed, per Lan Qiren’s lesson), may not be the most spiritually healthy in any circumstance, but it’s only when you have half a lifetime’s worth of a mental feedback loop between you and this external, semi-sentient part of yourself that’s reinforcing the spiritual toll of that path, that you actually end up with a resulting qi deviation and death.

* * *

So, anyway, I do want to be clear having put forth this argument, that my point here is not to condemn the Nies, nor for that matter blame the sect leaders for their own deaths - that’s very much not in line with how the text itself displays flaws and virtues as two sides of the same coin (at times divided only by the context around them), and shows how destructive consequences can result from the best of intentions. For that matter, each major sect has unquestionably valuable basic principles at its heart, and just like microcosms of any culture, society, or group, displays instances of those principles being distorted, misaimed, or taken to extremes in ways that cause disharmony and pain to those in their path.

I think the way it plays out for the Nie clan just interests me in particular because of the way their uniqueness in cultivation method plays such known havoc with its members’ bodies and minds, and the way it straddles the divide between upright and demonic cultivation. MDZS asks, I think, more questions than it offers definitive answers to, and a significant one of those is, even if vengeance, even if death-as-justice is righteous, where do you balance all the harm done to others (up to and including) the justice-seeker in deciding whether to continue down that path of action?

And if it’s the Nie sect’s spiritual focus in combination with the spirits of their sabers that wear down a slow stream of damage to their qi, rather than simply the external threat of the sabers alone - that seems congruent, to me, with the suggestions offered elsewhere in the story.

#MDZS #The Untamed #CQL #meta #no good things for the poor sad cultivators #op #rambling #Nie Mingjue #Nie Huaisang #nooottt really putting in the searchable character tags I hope considering it's less *about* them and more ancillary...? aahh #Nie sect fascinates me it really really does #(alternate title: huisang is philosophically not much of an exception in his sect even though he doesn't use a saber . txt)#also ty Ame for doing a read-through of thiiissss ur the best <333 #long post for ts

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hatari-translations · 4 years

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Eurovision Song Contest: The Story of Fire Saga - Icelandic review

Eurovision Song Contest: The Story of Fire Saga is a Netflix-produced affectionate parody film about Eurovision starring Will Ferrell and Rachel McAdams. This wouldn't qualify it for coverage on this blog by itself - but as it happens, the main characters are Icelandic, Icelandic is spoken in it, and a significant portion of the film takes place in Iceland. So I think it's close enough to being of interest to readers of this blog!

As a film, my feelings on it were mixed - the Eurovision parodies were incredibly spot-on, I liked Dan Stevens' character and the amount of Eurovision cameos, and it definitely had some pretty funny moments - but it was far longer than it needed to be and wildly inconsistent in tone, flitting between utter ridiculousness and emotional melodrama played completely straight. However, this won't be a review of the film - instead, I'll be going over the portrayal of Iceland and its culture and language and sprinkling in some related trivia.

The Icelandic Opening

The film opens with a montage and a song that the subtitles identify as an "Icelandic folk song". The song is Sá ég spóa, which is indeed a genuine Icelandic folk song. The lyrics of the song go:

Sá ég spóa suður í flóa, syngur lóa úti í móa, bí bí bí bí, vorið er komið víst á ný

which translates to:

I saw a whimbrel in the bay to the south, a plover sings in the dry grassland, cheep cheep cheep cheep, spring is surely here again

The song references the common folk belief that the migratory European golden plover brings spring with it; we still have newspaper headlines when the first plover is spotted (or heard) every spring. The song is largely notable for being suitable for canon singing, which unfortunately can't be heard well in the movie, since the most audible part is the beginning, and the song kind of fades out before the other voices come in. I think this YouTube video is the same recording the movie uses, only you can hear all of it properly!

From there, the first chunk of the movie takes place in Iceland, in both the capital Reykjavík and Húsavík, a town in northern Iceland (the Húsavík scenes were genuinely filmed there). These scenes feature Icelandic extras and some actual spoken Icelandic, with English subtitles. Their lines are grammatically accurate and natural, clearly translated by a native speaker; however, when you're actually Icelandic, it's incredibly obvious that Pierce Brosnan (playing the main character's father) does not actually know the language. He tries, but it's only kind of intelligible, and when he's surrounded by actually Icelandic extras and the film wholly acts like he's just another one of them, it's pretty glaring.

The Names

The first really major issue to tackle about this movie is the character names.

The main characters are named Lars Erickssong and Sigrit Ericksdóttir. First of all, I understand that "Erickssong" is meant to be a pun because he's a musician - but it simply makes no sense to make a pun like this, any more than it would make any sense as a joke in English to consistently refer to somebody as someone's song instead of their son. You can absolutely make up punny Icelandic patronyms - but the part you make the pun out of has to be the name part, not the son/dóttir part, or it just doesn't register as a name at all.

But let's put that aside. Lars is an accepted first name in Iceland - but Sigrit is not, nor is Erick, and Lars is not a common name - it's pretty distinctly foreign-sounding. In general, nearly all of the Icelandic characters' names are not actual Icelandic names, and don't sound like they might be Icelandic names, either.

You might say, well, this is a comedy film, it's not supposed to be accurate. And there is some truth to that, sure. But the thing is that most of the names used in the movie aren't really humourous or systematically inaccurate in a deliberate-seeming way. Instead, they largely just sound like they're playing to your average American's idea of what generic Scandinavian names sound like, but with patronymic suffixes slapped on, and I expect the primary American audience would assume these are realistic Icelandic names.

This is unfortunate, because Icelandic names broadly really don't sound like generic Scandinavian names! We have a different alphabet from our Nordic neighbors: in particular, we don't have the letter c. And the overall sound of Icelandic is pretty different, such that the names in this movie sound distinctly foreign to us. The actual Icelandic equivalent to Sigrit Ericksdóttir would be something like Sigríður Eiríksdóttir, and in fact some of the Icelandic extras just went ahead and pronounced her last name "Eiríksdóttir". Naming her Sigrit Ericksdóttir instead isn't a joke; it's just inaccurate, and I don't think the film being a comedy really excuses stubbornly insisting on not doing the research here, especially when you involve a bunch of Icelanders who would definitely have pointed this out.

Húsavík and On-Screen Text

While Húsavík is a real place, the way it's pronounced and spelled is all over the place. I think the subtitles sometimes included the accents and sometimes not; on-screen text usually didn't include accents. It's important to note that u and ú are two different letters in Icelandic, pronounced differently; not using the accent is wrong, so although not including accents is acceptable for regular people typing in a medium where it'd be difficult or tedious to use them, on-screen text does not really have any excuse, especially in a movie that significantly takes place in Iceland rather than simply being a throwaway scene; they have plenty of time to spell the words correctly.

It's also a little frustrating that Húsavík is actually pretty easy to pronounce for English-speakers! It's just HOO-sah-veek - no sounds that don't exist in English at all. Despite this, the last syllable gets pronounced 'vick' sometimes, and in the song during the climax, Rachel McAdams' Swedish singing double Molly Sandén makes it sound Swedish and like it actually has a u instead of an ú.

Elves and Folklore

Elves are a plot point in the movie, with Sigrit being a true believer in elves but Lars not. She leaves food at a little 'dollhouse' built into a hill while asking the elves for favors. Needless to say, this is a comedic element, and the way it's used is pretty fun - nonetheless, however, I feel obliged to say that no, Icelanders do not do this. Even the true believers (who are few and far between) don't leave them offerings or pray to them for favors - and in Icelandic folklore, elves are not tiny! They're thought to live in actual rocks - no little houses necessary - and they're pretty intimidating and vengeful as described in folklore; if you were to give them offerings or ask them anything, it'd be more along the lines of pleading with them to please tolerate something you're about to do without taking bloody vengeance on you, not asking them to do something nice for you.

(The movie's use of elves was actually ultimately more accurate than it seemed; I won't spoil the details, but it's pretty good.)

Another plot point involves Sigrit's inability to sing a "speorg note", which is stated to be from Icelandic folklore. There is no such folklore, "speorg" would actually be pronounced spee-org with a hard g if it were an Icelandic word, and the way they're pronouncing it is once again something that sounds more vaguely Swedish than like Icelandic of any kind. Obviously this is a pure joke concept not to be taken very seriously.

The Problem With Winning

A major plot point in the movie is a businessman, "Victor Karlosson", who points out early in the film that if Iceland won Eurovision, it'd practically bankrupt the country. This is a genuine concern that Icelanders talk about any time we seem to have a chance of doing well. However, that scene also features someone suggesting hosting the contest in Keflavík, a town about 45 minutes outside of Reykjavík, which causes him to respond that a town of 15,000 wouldn't be able to do that. The joke here is obviously meant to be that hosting it in such a small town (actually pretty big on an Icelandic scale) is especially obviously absurd. However, I'm pretty sure I remember it being actually seriously suggested that if we won Eurovision we might have to host it in one of the aircraft hangars at the US army base that used to be in (near) Keflavík! We don't actually have any Eurovision-sized stadiums in the country, so that was legitimately one of the more realistic possibilities.

Perceptions of the Contest in Iceland

In the movie, while Lars is absolutely obsessed with Eurovision, this is implied to be pretty weird. There's a recurring joke of nobody wanting to hear Eurovision songs, and a lengthy scene in a Húsavík bar where the TV is showing a football game and one of the inhabitants makes an impassioned speech about how they should switch to Eurovision to see Iceland's entry because the contestants are from Húsavík! This is pretty hilarious, because man, Icelanders who don't like Eurovision have a hard time getting away from it when it's on! Potentially you might have a bar making a point of showing something else on Eurovision night and advertising itself specifically to Eurovision-haters, but the idea of no one in a full bar of random Icelanders wanting to watch Eurovision, especially when Iceland is competing, is pretty absurd. We're obsessed with this contest!

The bit where the teenage boy who plays drums in their band doesn't accompany them abroad because "my friends think the song contest is for losers" is valid, though; I can absolutely believe in a friend group of musically-inclined teenagers who think it's trash and they're too cool for it.

A Song in Icelandic Would Never Win

Sigrit says before the Icelandic semifinal that she wishes she could sing in Icelandic, and Lars counters by saying a song in Icelandic would never win. It's true that after Eurovision dropped the rule about all contestants singing in one of their country's official languages, most of Iceland's Eurovision entries have been in English, largely because of the perception that nobody will understand Icelandic lyrics ("Hatrið mun sigra" was only the second entry to be in Icelandic since the change).

However, a lot of songs are still sung in Icelandic in the Icelandic contest - in fact, the last couple years have required it! So technically this should not have stopped the characters from singing in Icelandic there and just translating it to English for the main event. This is a minor nitpick, though, and can be considered merely one of the many pieces of artistic license taken with the contest rules in the movie.

"Semen and Garfunkel"

There is a scene where Lars tells Sigrit that romance ruins bands, and he lists off a few supposed examples, including "Semen and Garfunkel". This probably seems like a really weird, random joke to everyone else, but it's actually kind of enjoyable when you do know Icelandic, because the Icelandic equivalent of the name Simon, Símon, is actually pronounced very similarly to "semen". It's a joke about them being Icelandic and therefore pronouncing his name that way, only probably nobody outside of Iceland would actually get it. I enjoy this.

Some Transcripts/Translations

There are a couple of pieces of unsubtitled Icelandic in the film. At the end of Ólafur Darri Ólafsson presenting the points from the Icelandic jury in the semifinal (yes, they have public jury points in the semifinal; another one of those bits of artistic license), after he says thanks, he adds in Icelandic: "Takk fyrir. Fyrirgefið þið aftur." This just means "Thanks. Sorry again [about the technical mishaps during Iceland's entry]."

During the climax of the film, Sigrit sings a song about her hometown, which has a couple of lines of Icelandic in the chorus. Our initial reaction to the [sings in Icelandic] subtitle was actually "Thaaaaat's not Icelandic," but when the chorus came on again I just about managed to make out that yes, it was in fact supposed to be Icelandic, which Molly Sandén was just pronouncing in a pretty Swedish way. The main line goes "Eina sem ég þrái er að vera með þér í Húsavík," or "only thing I long for is to be with you in Húsavík." There is another line after that, but I can't make out what she's trying to sing there at all, even after going back and rewinding it a few times.

License Plate Trivia

This is only barely relevant, but the license plate on Fire Saga's Eurovision tour bus is R 373. This is one of the old-fashioned black license plates that were in use before 1987; the R stands for Reykjavík, as license plate numbers were allocated by county. In 1987, we switched to white license plates independent of county with two letters followed by three numbers; later, when they ran out of numbers, it was tweaked so that the first number slot could also be a letter. However, some cars that had the old license plates are still on the roads today. I can't imagine why they'd put an old license plate on the bus unless it's genuinely just an old Icelandic bus with pre-1987 license plates.

The Reaction

The most realistic portrayal of Iceland in this movie is when Lars and Sigrit return from Eurovision to a crowd of extremely enthusiastic people waving Icelandic flags. Icelanders who accomplish anything cool abroad tend to be treated as heroes on their return; when our handball team won a silver at the Olympics, there was a whole sea of people and a ceremony to welcome them back, and they were all awarded with the Order of the Falcon. This is absolutely what Icelanders would do, accurate Iceland, A+.

#eurovision the story of fire saga #will ferrell #iceland #icelandic #icelandic names

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firsthopemedia · 3 years

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Will The Next Cold War Be An Economic One? FIRST HOPE FINANCIAL Several big stories hit the financial news this past week but the real significance of these stories were not discussed anywhere. Number one, the U.S. Congress pushed to file unfair trade practices against China, stating that the Bush administration’s quiet behind-the-scenes negotiation strategy was unacceptable as a tactic to bring economic reform to China. In another story this week, these words appeared - Rather than serve as "an apologist" for China, "I hope the administration will join this team," Sen. Lindsey Graham, R-S.C., told reporters after testifying before the Senate Finance Committee in the second hearing on China's economic and currency policies in two days. This article reported that Congress aimed to pass bi-partisan veto-proof legislation that will force the Chinese Yuan to appreciate against the dollar. American manufacturers have claimed that the Chinese government’s unfair manipulation of their currency has hurt them and their Congressmen are listening. Then finally at the end of the week, this headline appeared in an article: “The U.S. Commerce Department announced sanctions against paper imports from China, the first time in 23 years that U.S. duty law has been applied to imports from that country.” Reporting the above is fine, but what are its implications? Here is my view. For once, I agree that the Bush administration is taking the proper stance and their disapproval of these brash, flag-waving Congressmen is merited. When sending U.S. Federal Reserve Chairman Bernanke and the U.S. Secretary of Treasury Paulson to China only resulted in China defiantly stating that they will not allow another nation to dictate to them how they should run their economy, U.S. Congress should have gotten the hint. Instead, they escalated an already potentially volatile situation with their threats and sanctions this week. Stephen Roach, the chief economist at Morgan Stanley warned Congress that currency valuation was far from being the sole component hurting American manufacturers. He stated that China’s cheap labor costs, burgeoning modern infrastructure and technology and growing investment in human capital and research also have greatly contributed to the burgeoning trade imbalance between China and the United States. Mr. Roach commented, "The foreign-exchange rate is not the answer, in my view. You in the Congress need to ask yourselves an important hypothetical question: How would you feel if you got your way on the Chinese currency adjustment but found that after three or four years the pressures bearing down on American workers had only intensified? As I see it, that's a very real risk that should not be taken lightly.” Although I have vehemently disagreed with Mr. Roach’s past views on other subject matters, I believe that he is on the mark 100% this time and I’ll tell you why. U.S. Federal Chairman Bernanke has already publicly stated that everybody knows that the weak dollar is good for the U.S. government because it makes their debt cheaper and also helps to close the trade gap. So if you don’t think that the U.S. is not guilty of manipulating their own currency as well to serve their purposes then you are living in some kind of economic fantasyland. There are a whole lot of American expats living abroad that would like to see their own government do something to protect the value of their own currency instead of lecturing other nations as to how they should be managing theirs. Furthermore, this event is indeed a watershed event in the ongoing re-structuring of the world’s economies. In the past, colonized nations had bitterly complained to Europe and the U.S. about the harm their economic policies inflicted upon their economies. But now we see a 180% reversal, with developed countries complaining to emerging nations about their policies. But this is almost beside the point when it comes to examining much more significant fallout of an open trade war with China. The reason the Bush administration is trying to negotiate quietly with the Chinese rather than take the more hard-line stance assumed by the U.S. Congress is that they know that the Chinese government holds far more important cards than the valuation of the Yuan, namely the more than one trillion dollars of U.S. dollar denominated assets that they currently hold in their reserves. As I stated in a blog I posted about a week ago to The Underground Investor, the U.S. Congress would be foolish to aggressively alienate the Chinese government with so much at stake. The problems with the U.S. economy are much more a product of past U.S. fiscal irresponsibility than the manipulative actions of the Chinese economy and if the U.S. chooses to try to scapegoat an economic giant like China for their current problems, I believe, as Mr. Roach stated, that re-valuation of the Yuan will not be the answer. Furthermore, it is exactly these protectionist measures that the U.S. is seeking to implement that have hindered emerging markets in the past. Instead of addressing the real reasons behind a lagging economy, protectionist measures many times seek to scapegoat another country’s economic policies for far more deep-rooted economic failures at home. Furthermore, protectionist measures often harbor and encourages domestic inefficiencies to persist instead of encouraging proactive solutions that attack the root of the problem. In fact, if the U.S. Congress pushes through their punitive measures, I can tell you right now that revaluation of the Yuan will NOT be the answer to the problems of the American economy. And despite the fact that offloading massive amounts of U.S. dollars will hurt the Chinese economy as well, there will also come a time when the Chinese government, if pushed far enough, will offload massive amounts of U.S. dollars because their strong economy will be able to absorb its negative effects much better than the weak U.S. economy. And if they do so, the U.S. Congress will have given them the perfect excuse to do something that I believe the Chinese government is planning to do anyway. However, they will be able to do it, save face at the same time, and do it earlier than anyone expects, as opposed to having the global community heap loads of criticism upon them for what would otherwise seem to be a sudden decision that came out of nowhere. Instead of such an action being viewed as the selfish actions of a nation, it will instead by viewed as a reaction to U.S. bullying, and U.S. Congress will have given the Chinese government the perfect out. In this case, quiet negotiations is the proper way because any other way is bound to bring harm to not only Americans in the future, but to the global economy as well. When I have blogged about governments being chronic liars in the past, certainly the Chinese government or any world government is not immune. While the Chinese government has publicly stated that they will not take any sudden actions that will greatly hurt the U.S. dollar, do you really believe that they want to hold a trillion dollars of a currency that continues to lose significant value every year? Trust me, they are planning to get rid of these dollars as soon as economically possible and behind the scenes, they have a plan in place to offload them. Again, I can tell you why punitive Congressional U.S. measures will not coax the Chinese to assume policies the U.S. wants but only anger them. To begin, Japan is on the verge of replacing America as China’s number one trading partner. If the Chinese choose to bow down to American pressure, they would undoubtedly anger the Japanese who have heavily invested in China and would be adversely affected by the Chinese government’s decision to appease the U.S. Congress. Angering your number one trading partner would be even worse than angering the U.S. And this just in, even as I write this blog, in a report originating out of New York: Today, China called the first of U.S. protectionist measures, tariffs on their paper imports, “unacceptable.” China strongly demands the United States to reconsider this decision and correct it as soon as possible," China Commerce Ministry spokesman Wang Xinpei said in a statement on a government Web site. Secondly, I believe that the Chinese government, despite what diplomatic statements they release to the financial press about being concerned not to enact any policies that will cause the U.S. dollar to fall quickly, desire to unload a significant portion of their $1 trillion dollar of U.S. dollar-denominated reserves. The Chinese government realizes that offloading significant portions of dollars, whether it is to purchase oil and natural gas for their state reserves, or the purchase of other assets, will automatically cause the Yuan to strengthen. They are not going to appease the U.S. Congress now and watch the Yuan strengthen and then see this effect multiply as they unload U.S. dollars from their reserves. I believe that this is how the Chinese will eventually allow the Yuan to strengthen – by merely cutting back on their dollar-denominated assets, something that they want to do anyhow. With this potential trade war, it is important to ignore the preening of the U.S. Congress but to consider the implications of their potential actions instead. U.S. Congressmen are no doubt influenced a great deal by their most important constituents, in this case, large manufacturers. However, in this case, it is not the concerns of the large manufacturers that are most important. Here they serve merely as a smokescreen. Sure, large manufacturers are being hurt right now by Chinese imports, but rather than considering this part of the equation which the financial media gives much attention to, it is more important to consider the other side of the equation that is never spoken of in the financial media. Rather than listen to the complaints of the hurt, seek out what t

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warsofasoiaf · 4 years

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Have you played Fallout 4? What did you think of it?

Joseph Anderson had a phenomenal video on Fallout 4. Although it is enormous, so be careful. Overall, there were things to like and things not to like about Fallout 4. I’ll start with what I liked first. Throwing a cut in here because it’s long.

Combat in the first-person Fallout games has always been clunky, and enemy AI relatively largely consisted of straight charging or shooting from as maximum range as possible. Difficulty came primarily from enemy quantity, high damage output, or incredibly enemy hitpoints. The last of these has been a particular Bethesda problem in their games, with enemies being incredible damage sponges, making late-game fights a boring slog as you slowly whittle down their health while being impossible to damage in any meaningful capacity. While enemy variations aren’t nearly as high as the game’s fans would have you believe if you conceive of them as AI patterns, the AI activity did have some nice variations. Human enemies used cover, ghouls bobbed and weaved as you shot them, mole rats tried to ambush you. It’s got nothing on games with fully realized combat system, but it does make the combat that you do engage in much more enjoyable.

All of the random crap you can pick up in a Bethesda game having a purpose is another positive. It is a true nuisance to find out when playing a game that I hit my encumbrance limit only to find out it’s because I’ve picked up a bunch of brooms, bowls, and other garbage accidentally while grabbing coin and other worthwhile treasures. Actually having these things mean an object is worthy mechanically, aside from level design; typewriters are useful as items as opposed to something that shows you that the ruined building you’re in was formerly a newspaper. As crafting is a big portion of the game, having these things provide component parts that you use for crafting on their own creates more utility in these elements of clutter which still require modeling, rendering, placement, etc. Now if you need aluminum, you’ll try to raid something like a cannery because it will have aluminum cans, which is an excellent way to create player-generated initiative. It also reinforces one of the primary themes of the game which is crafting and design, where even the trailers of the game suggest building as a key idea of the game. Certainly sensible for a post-apocalyptic game to focus on building a new society upon the ruins of the older one, and given what the game was trying to do with their four factions mechanic, it’s clear that this was their intent, and good job for trying to ensure that things factor back into their principal intent.

Deathclaws look properly scary, the animations with Vault Boy were funny, there’s some pretty window dressing. The voice work wasn’t bad, the notable standout being Nick Valentine. The Brotherhood airship was an impressive visual. I had a little fun creating some basic settlements, particularly in Hangman’s Alley where I tried to create a network of suspended buildings and Spectacle Island where I had room to grant every prospective settler a shack. Bethesda clearly looked to create a game with mass market appeal, and I believe the metrics bears out that they succeeded in that regard. The robots in the USS Constitution quest were very funny, the writers were able to make the absolute ridiculousness of the situation work (curse you Weatherby Savings and Loan!) and framed it well as a comedic sidequest, with a final impressive visual if you side with the bots and the ship takes flight.

Now that this is out of the way, I think that a lot of what Fallout 4 did was not the right move.

The quest design was particularly atrocious in this regard. Most of the radiant quests boiled them down to a simple formula - go to the dungeon, get to the final room where you need to either kill the boss or get an item from the boss chest, return. In this game though, the main story quests often were boiled down to just this simple formula. You need to find a doodad from a Courser to complete your teleporter? Go to the dungeon, kill the boss, recover the item. The Railroad needs you to help an escaped synth! Do it by going to the dungeon and getting to the final room. This really hampers the enjoyment of games because the expressiveness of the setting and elements of an RPG is often explored through quests. Quests are meant to get you out into the world and give you an objective, but they are also meant to connect you to the people that you’re dealing with. If every quest is boiled down to the same procedure, that hurts the immersion, but the bigger sin is that when you return you have another quest waiting for you. That robs the player of the sense of accomplishment because there is no permanent solution to problems, even for a minute. There is no different end-state for the player to see the transition from one to the other and feel accomplished that they were the ones who did it. Other RPG’s always understood this - a D&D game might have a party save a town investigate an illness dealing with a town, take out an evil druid who has charmed the wildlife into attacking supply and trade shipments, slay goblins who are raiding cattle, there are a lot of possibilities that might even feel samey: if you’re killing charmed dire wolves or goblin cattle thieves, you’re still going to the dungeon and fighting the boss, the usual flair and variation came from encounter design. After you’d do that though, the NPC’s might say “Hey, Mom is feeling better after you cured that disease, she’s starting to walk again,” “Hey, we were able to send a shipment of wine from the vineyards out to the capital, here’s some coin for the shipment as reward for your service,” or even just a simple “Hey, thanks for taking out those cattle thieves.” There’s a sense of accomplishment even if it’s a fleeting “we did a cool thing.” Computer RPG’s are tougher in this regard, part of the sense of accomplishment in tabletop gaming is also with your friends, it’s a shared activity, but usually in that the reward was some experience and character growth and going to new content. There isn’t new content here in Fallout 4 though, because of the samey quest design and lack of progression.

The conversational depth was also ruined, with so much of the voice choices mangled by the system of conversation they designed. By demanding a four-choice system, they limited themselves to always requiring four options which completely mangled interactivity. The previous menu design allowed for as many lines as you wanted, even if the choices were usually beads on a string. The depth and variation, however, are even lower than what could be found in games like Mass Effect 3, and the small word descriptions were often so inaccurate that it created a massive disconnect between myself the player and the Sole Survivor, because they weren’t saying what I thought they would be saying. That prevented me from feeling immersed, because a “Sarcastic” option could be a witty joke or a threat that sounds like it should come out of a bouncer. The character options were already limited, with Nate being a veteran and Nora being a lawyer, but this lack of depth prevents me from feeling the character even moreso than a scripted backstory. You get those in games, but being unable to predict how I’m reacting is something that kills character.

Bethesda needs to end the “find (x) loved one” as a means to get people motivated to do a quest, or if they don’t want to rid themselves of that tool in their toolbox, they need to do a better job getting me to like them. More linear games can get away with this, but open world games encourage the sort of idle dicking around that doesn’t make any sense for a person who is attempting to find a family member. Morrowind did this much better, where your main task was to be an Imperial agent, and you were encouraged to join other factions and do quests as a means to establish a cover identity and get more acquainted with combat. Folks who didn’t usually ended up going to Hasphat Antabolius and getting their face kicked in by Snowy Granius. Here though, what sort of parent am I if instead of pursuing a lead to find my infant son I’m wandering over east because I saw what looked like a cool ruin, and I need XP to get my next perk (another gripe, perks that are simple percentage increases because they slow down advancement and make combat a slog if you don’t take them, depressing what should be a sense of accomplishment). By making us try to feel close with a character but by refusing to give us the players time with them, there is no sense of bonding. I felt more connection to James in Fallout 3 than I did for Sean, but even then, I felt more connection to him because he was voiced by Liam Neeson than because of any sense of fatherly affection. The same goes for the spouse and baby Sean, I feel little for them because I see them only a little. I know that I should care more, but I also know that I the player don’t because all that I was given is “you should care about them.” You need time to get to know characters in game, along with good writing and voicework. I like Nick because he quoted “The Raven” when seeing the Brotherhood airship and I thought that was excellent writing, I didn’t have any experiences with Sean to give me that same sense of bonding.

They’ve also ruined the worldbuilding. The first-person Fallout games have always had a problem with this, with Fallout 3 recycling Super Mutants, the Brotherhood of Steel, and other iconic Fallout things into Washington D.C. Part of this is almost certainly the same reason that The Force Awakens was such a dull rehash of the plot of A New Hope, they wanted to establish some sort of continuity with a new director to not frighten off old fans who they relied on to provide a significant majority of the sales. The problem of course, is that this runs into significant continuity problems, now needing Vault 87 to have a strain of FEV and having a joint Vault-Tec/US Government experiment program there on the East Coast, so we can have Super Mutants. Jackson’s chameleon isn’t native to Washington D.C., but we need to have Deathclaws because they’re the iconic scary Fallout enemy, as opposed to creating something new with the local fauna, which is only made worse because they did do that with the yao guai formed from the American black bear (the black bear doesn’t typically range in the Chesapeake Basin near DC these days, but it’s close enough and given the loss of humans to force them back they could easily return to their old pre-human rangings). Some creatures are functions of the overall setting and can be global, ghouls are the big one here since radiation would be a global thing and fitting considering Fallout is a post-apocalypse specifically destroyed by nuclear war. Others though, are clearly mutated creatures and so they would be more localized. Centaurs and floaters were designed by FEV experiments and collared by Super Mutants, they should really only be around Super Mutants. Radscorpions shouldn’t be around, there would probably be instead be mutated spiders. Making things worse are that the monster designers do develop some excellent enemies when they think about it. Far Harbor has a mutant hermit crab that uses a truck as a shell (a lobster restaurant truck, which is passable enough for a visual joke even if it falls apart when you think about other trucks that they might use) and a monster that uses an angler lure that resembles a crafting component - these are good ideas but the developers needed to awkwardly shoehorn in iconic Fallout things that have no place there. This isn’t to say that I’m in love with a lot of Fallout’s worldbuilding, a lot of the stuff in Fallout 2 I found to be kind of dumb particularly the talking deathclaws, but as the series went on it took objects without meaning. The G.E.C.K in Fallout 3 was pretty much a magic recombinator which makes no sense as a technology in a world devastated by resource collapse, something similar can be said about the Sierra Madre vending machines.

Fallout 4 though, had a lot of worldbuilding inconsistencies that really took an axe to the setting. The boy in the fridge outlasts the entire Great War, but apparently never needed to eat or drink water. This is, of course, stupid, because ghouls have always been shown to need to eat and drink - Fallout 1′s Necropolis section has a Water Chip but if you take it without finding an alternate source of clean water, the ghouls will die. Ghoul settler NPC’s that flock to your player-crafted towns require food and water. The entire thing was ruined from a complete lack of care, to build a quest where you reunite a lost boy with his still-alive ghoulified parents. I think this one bothers me not simply because of the egregious worldbuilding which isn’t even consistent in the very game it’s written it, but it’s done so frivolously for a boring escort quest. It feels scattershot, and that’s the problem I think with a lot of Fallout 4′s quests. They feel disconnected, like every writer worked in a cubicle without talking to any of the other writers. Same with things like the Lady in the Fog.

Are we done with that? Good, because now we’re going into the parts that I really dislike - the main quest and the factions. These are just awful. The developers took what folks really liked when it came to Fallout 2 and Fallout: New Vegas (Fallout 1 did have interesting factions but they were largely self-contained, more towns than anything else) and completely botched it. New Vegas was the clear inspiration for these factions, with the four faction model of NCR, Legion, House, and Indepenedent meaning that there were four different ways to go forward into the future, so we get three factions that fight each other and a fourth more player friendly faction that roughly resembles the Independent Vegas where you can pick and choose which factions you bring in with you and which you get rid of. Thematically, this fits in with the core of the game, crafting is a big portion of what you do and so crafting what sort of world the Commonwealth would be is simply a logical extension of it. The factions aren’t presented well though. The Railroad are impossibly naive and don’t demonstrate any rougher edges like denying supplies to humans in order to fuel their synth effort, even though such a thing should be evident if the post-apocalypse of the Commonwealth is to be believed. The Institute are sinister murderers and replacers without bringing any of the advanced technology that could provide some benefit such as the gigantic orange gourd that can grow. So much of their kill-and-replace mentality seems to be done for no great overarching purpose. The Minutemen are basically blank, pretty much just a catch-all for the player-built settlements, though the player as the leader of the Minutemen ends up getting bossed around by Preston to the point of the faction rejecting your commands to proceed with the main quest, a significant problem with Bethesda factions where you are the leader but never get any actual sense of leadership. There doesn’t appear to be any addressing of the failures of the previous Minutemen whether that be the previous summit, or new problems such as settlements feuding with each other requiring the general to intervene and mediate. The Brotherhood come the closest to a real faction with advantages and drawbacks if you squint, they are feudal overlords with the firepower to fight Super Mutants and other mutated nasties, but also violently reject ghouls and synths as part of their violent dogma except for seemingly not caring when you bring a companion around or killing ghoul settlers in settlements they control. But even then, we don’t really see the Brotherhood providing protection to the settlements that they demand for food, the typical radiant quest to destroy a pack of feral ghouls or super mutants is directed from a Brotherhood quest giver to a randomly determined location, hardly a good way to illustrate whether or not the Brotherhood is actually protecting settlements that they administer. We see little change in the way of the Commonwealth save that certain factions are alive or not because the game needs to stay active in order to perform radiant quests, so not even the signature ending slideshows can give us the illusion of effects building off of our actions. This is contrary to the theme of building a better world in the Commonwealth because there is no building.

Special notice must be given to the Nuka-World raiders because they show the big problems with the factions. You can be a Raider in Nuka-World but only after becoming the Overboss, which is fair enough. But you’re already a Minuteman, but the Minutemen don’t activate any kill-on-sight order and Preston still helps you out. The game is so terrified of people losing out on content that they make permanent consequences rare, and when you do something like order an attack, it can be rescinded automatically if one of your companions is there. As an Overboss, you do grunt work in the Commonwealth, and the factions get mad and pissy if you don’t give them things despite even if you only give one section of the park to one of the factions, that’s more than they got from Colter. It’s like they don’t exist until the player shows up, which is exactly how a lot of modern Bethesda character and faction building seems to be. While in most computer games a sort of uneasy status quo is the desired beginning state because it gives the protagonist the chance to make ripples while justifying the existence of a status that allows the player to change it, it has to be applied consistently.

The main quest itself is silly. There’s a decent twist with Sean becoming Father that sort of works, which would have worked much better if we had actually gotten a chance to bond with him, although the continuity of everything gets wiggy quick. When he said that he looked over the world and saw nothing but despair, I was wondering if they were going to actually bring a big question up and a debate between Father and the Player, the idea of what worth the people on the surface have, but it goes nowhere, it’s a missed opportunity. The main quest is just a means to meet all four factions and it’s a barebones skeleton at best. There are some interesting concepts they try, but what they do often falls flat. They try to establish some sort of empathy for Kellogg in the memory den, but it’s lazy and cheap because he kidnaps a baby and wastes your spouse, a wasted effort of empathy only made worse when you get criticized for not showing any sympathy. Kellogg then shows up in Nick’s memory for one second and then that little story nugget is ignored. The half-baked nature of the story keeps being brought back up, which is a pity because we actually saw them do a competent job in Far Harbor. The Followers of Atom are crazy and they really aren’t sympathetic in any way, but some of the folks inside the sub aren’t so bad that it might prevent you from wanting to detonate the sub, or at least you might think enough that you look for another solution. DiMA did some monstrous things, and if you bring him to justice, the game actually takes the time to evaluate whether or not you helped out Far Harbor, with meaningful consequences being taken if you took the time to do the sidequests which imparts far more meaning to them.

While there’s a lot of problems that show up in terms of binary completion, the question of whether to replace Tektus and turn the Children of Atom to a more moderate path is a good question, it actually gives a lot more merit to the Institute if they were ever to have been shown to enact the same level of care. That only makes the Fallout problems stand out more, because it shows that they were capable of it but didn’t. This isn’t the only missed opportunity, synths themselves become a big problem. The goal was to create a very paranoid feeling but it was so sorely under-utilized that I never grew suspicious of folks because the game never gave me enough incentive to be suspicious of them. I didn’t think that Bethesda made synths that would give you false information or ambush you because that would have been potentially missed content. The idea of whether you are a synth or not is clearly an attempt to give the game more depth than it is presenting. You’re not a synth, Father’s actions make no sense if you are one, and DiMA attempting to make you think you are is silly because you know you aren’t one.

I think the game would have been much better if they had dropped the notion of Fallout entirely. If they had instead looked to create an open-world post-apocalyptic game focusing on crafting and building towns, perhaps with an eventual goal state of building many towns, establishing transportation networks, and rebuilding a junkyard society as a decent place (or going full Mad Max Bartertown complete with a Thunderdome for players looking for an evil and over-the-top option). That might have been an interesting game for Bethesda to potentially develop a new IP, even contracting with smaller studios for those who wish to tell story-heavy games in the setting. Instead, they applied Fallout like a bad paint job, cobbling together weak RP elements and story that made the game feel like a hydra that couldn’t recognize it was one being with multiple heads, constantly tearing the other parts of itself to ribbons.

If I wanted to further improve it, I think I would have instead made the spouse a synth. It would require some serious reworking, but I would have made it so that Sean did believe that synths were people, or that they were real enough that the difference was negligible, they had free will. During the initial grab, the Institute took the entire cryopod where Sean was, baby and parent both. They used Sean to create the next generation of synths, but something happened with the parent, and they died during defrost. Sean hates the Institute for what they did, but what happened was truly a medical complication, not malicious in any way. When he learns that the player character is active, he creates a synth programmed to believe they are the spouse. He believes that exposing who he really is to the surviving parent would be traumatic, and as he hears that the player character is thriving, he wants to give them a chance at a normal life, and to alleviate the loss that he had in his life with the loss of his own parents. So the spouse is sent to you, and for a long time, you and the spouse have no idea. You adventure together, you build settlements together, the game encourages you to have a good relationship. It doesn’t have to be hunky dory, and I’d argue it’s actually better if it’s not. Have the spouse be programmed with some rough experiences in the Wasteland, so they’re nervous, skittish, maybe even a little resentful that the player character snoozed their way through everything, but slowly rebuild the relationship. That way, when the quest eventually comes where you find the truth, the player character has to confront that reality. Then when you confront Sean, Sean explains himself and the player is given the choice to forgive him, be understanding but still angry, or be hugely pissed at the manipulation. That’s drama that uses the core theme of what synths are about with the whole kill-and-replace motif the Institute does. There’s a plot twist that batters the player, there’s one that’s just messy and gross and tough to reconcile. There’s one where the conclusion the player comes to is valid because it’s the player themselves deciding what the meaning of it is.

So overall, I see Fallout 4 as a bunch of missed opportunities and clumsy writing wrapped up in the popular shallow open-worlds that triple-A games end up having.

Thanks for the question, Jackie.

SomethingLikeALawyer, Hand of the King

#fallout 4 #fallout #video game reviews

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cross-poison · 4 years

Text

CLARITAS. The Mandalorian/OC (PART 8)

WORDS: 3.4k || WARNINGS: spirituality/talk of (made up) religion

a/n: FINALLY finished this part. I hope the fact that it’s almost double my usual chapter length makes up for how overdue it is.

As the Mandalorian stepped across the central aisle of the marketplace, he locked away in his mind the appearance of the nobleman Elliotte had pointed out to him. Lord Miryus. He’d not only been responsible for spraining Elliotte’s wrist, but also, apparently, a number of ongoing problems here on Listronus. Mando temporarily filed that information away for later, and he instead turned his attention to the fisherman behind the merchant’s stall as he approached.

The fisherman caught his eye and immediately poked at some of his fresh-caught fish, chattering excitedly about the quality and size of each one.

Elliotte came to a halt beside the Mandalorian at the stall and occupied herself with admiring the variety of fish, giving him the amount of space and time he needed to lock in a trade with his merchant of choice. He held the spool of string in-hand, turning it over in his gloved palm. The merchant stole a look at it before shifting his gaze back up to the intimidating visor of the Mandalorian’s helmet. “A trade?” he said, “Are you looking for a trade?”

“Yes. We are,” Mando replied, turning his helmet in Elliotte’s direction. She simply offered him a reassuring smile. He could do this… it’s not like he’d never negotiated before. “This is… a very fine, sturdy material here. Perfect for stringing fishing poles.”

“Right. May I see it for myself?” asked the merchant, humming thoughtfully as Mando passed him the spool. He held it up, unrolling a little segment of it and pinching it between his fingers. “It is a bit stretchy---quite perfect, if you ask me. I wouldn’t mind making a trade for it. Has anything here caught your eye…? Or your lady’s?”

“She isn’t my--”

“How about five of these little zemmoks?” Elliotte chimed in, extending a finger to gesture to a long and thin fish, rather average in color, but distinguished by a needle-like protrusion from its lower jaw.

The fisherman chuckled. “You drive a hard bargain, dear. Four and it’s a deal.”

“Alright then. Four.”

The merchant tucked the spool away into his pocket and turned to package up the small fish. He passed them across the row of fish to her and she tucked the wrap against her arm, thanked him, and nodded to Mando.

Once again, the two returned to the open marketplace. “Very well done! He didn’t doubt you’re a local for a second! I mean… perhaps other than appearance-wise. In that regard, you do sort of stand out,” Ell began, “I apologize for butting in there at the end… I just know we’ll need zemmoks for our next barter.”

“How many more of these are there?” Mando said, perhaps growing a bit agitated at the grueling process. As far as he could tell, they’d made no progress toward anything more valuable. A toxic fruit to beads, to a spool of string, to a handful of too-small fish… this hardly felt like a successful endeavor.

“This is the last one, I promise,” she assured, picking up on his annoyance, “I know these don’t look like much, but pitch them to the right merchant…” Ell shifted her gaze to a stall toward the front portion of the marketplace, and Mando followed her gaze. A plump and older merchant woman was receiving a handful of silver coins from a customer before passing him a basket of brightly-colored berries. That was their next target?

“That there is Misa. She’s an old friend of mine… has a real taste for zemmoks, you see. She has some old family recipe that requires a bunch of them, so she’ll snatch them up whenever anyone offers. In return, she offers useme nuts by the dozen… they’re these fist-sized nuts that grow in her personal orchard on the other side of town... crisp and incredibly tasty, especially when they’re salted the way Misa prepares them! Pretty great deal if you ask me,” Elliotte explained as she weaved through the crowd and in the direction of their target merchant.

Mando followed her, offering nothing but a grunt in response. He’d be rather happy to be finished in this marketplace. The heat of the day was unpleasant in the stuffy crowd, and although he was used to drawing curious gazes toward the sleek shine of his beskar, the continuous feeling of eyes watching his every move was beginning to grow taxing.

“Misa!” Elliotte’s voice drew him once again from his thoughts as the two of them came to a halt in front of the merchant’s stall. Unlike most of the other vendors in the marketplace, it seemed Misa specialized in more than one thing---berries, nuts, fruits, and even a few various animal products from creatures he’d never even heard of.

“Good afternoon, Elliotte!” said the friendly-looking merchant, “What can I interest you in today?”

“The usual,” Ell replied, passing over the wrap of fish she’d obtained from the previous merchant.

“You know me so well. A dozen per zemmok---that’ll give you forty-eight. Agreeable?”

“Yes ma’am.”

Misa grinned, turning away from her to set the fish down and began packing useme nuts away in a large basket. “So, are you going to introduce me to your friend?”

Mando managed to catch her eye for a moment before she offered a faint smile and turned her gaze back to the vendor. “This is Mando. I’m showing him around the market this morning… and the proper bargaining techniques.”

“That’s a handy skill to have,” Misa said, sitting back to blow a strand of hair out of her face. She reached over her table of goods in order to extend her hand, and Mando did the same, firmly shaking her hand. “Welcome to Listronus, Mando.”

“Thank you,” he answered.

“Well, here you are, Ms. Cantossan! Forty-eight useme nuts,” Misa added, lifting the basket off of the table and passing it to her.

“Thanks again, Misa. See you later,” Elliotte said, looping her arm under the basket’s handle and carrying it off. Finally, they were able to leave the intense environment of the marketplace. As they drew further away from the noise, Mando was able to visibly relax, at least just a hair. “Okay, now I’m intrigued. What’s the purpose of so many of… those?”

“These are a great local food source here on Listronus. I figured you could take as many of these as you’d like back for you and your kid… and if it isn’t too much to ask, I’d like to ask if I could have the remaining ones instead of a monetary payment for this first day of guiding!”

“You can have them all,” answered Mando, tilting his helmet in her direction, “I have enough to get by on my ship. And the kid’s a carnivore anyway.”

Elliotte blinked, positively bewildered by such a thing. “We’re talking about the same kid, right? Th-the little green one? He’s a carnivore?”

There was a muffled almost-chuckle from beneath the helmet. “Yes. It took me by surprise too when I saw him eat a frog whole the night I found him.” There was a certain underlying fondness in his heavily-modulated voice that Elliotte didn’t miss whenever he spoke about the child. Spending so much time around politicians and noblemen, Ell was able to differentiate between fake smiles and genuine ones, and although the Mandalorian’s face could give her no true indication she could almost hear the smile through his voice. This child was important to him.

“I didn’t mean to assume. We can trade these useme nuts for some larger fish, if--”

“No, please… I can tell they have more value to you. I have enough food on my ship to get through several more weeks. Besides… I’d rather not go back into that marketplace again for a while.”

“Crowds aren’t your thing, huh?”

“Not really.”

Ell hummed thoughtfully, switching the basket of useme nuts to her other arm. “Well… I know a few places we can visit that are much less crowded. You up for a history lesson?”

“I don’t see why not?”

“It’s a good thing we bought these after all. We’re gonna need some for the trip.”

It turns out, “trip” was a bit of an overstatement. To the east of the city, the landscape gave way to hills and valleys. Most of the flat area had been developed into farmland while the hills were relatively untouched and wild. As Cietovus 8 climbed higher into the sky, the two cut through rows of knee-high crops, watching each step to make sure no plants were crushed in the process. Mando spent much of the walk admiring the change of scenery and enjoying the time away from the bustling city streets, but even he grew curious as to what exactly the destination was supposed to be.

Ell, on the other hand, seemed to have the path memorized… which, he supposed, made sense in the grand scheme of things. She had lived here for all her life, after all. At first glance, the Mandalorian believed she was simply another haughty aristocrat. She certainly dressed like one and knew their mannerisms well, but upon getting to speak with her beyond more than a few passing words, he came to realize that she was kind, but without being naive and considerate without being a pushover. It was almost endearing in a way, the gentle balance she maintained.

Mando must have been gradually slowing his pace, because once he’d finally drawn out of his thoughts, they were no longer walking side-by-side. Ell was a few steps ahead of him, still chattering on about the details and history of the landscape and pointing out specific structures in the nearby fields. By now, he’d come to realize that they were nearing the edge of the crop fields and approaching the base of a large hill. The incline was gradual, but scattered with trees and various rock formations that would make for some simple obstacles. Overall, it appeared to be a relatively easy climb.

“Where are we?”

“This is Listrona Hill. As the name implies, it has… incredible significance to the people of this planet. It’s also why the capital city is located so nearby,” Elliotte answered, already drawing closer to a narrow trail winding up the hillside, “But it’s not the hill itself that’s so important. It’s what’s at the top.”

Mando followed her, watching every step up the incline. “What is at the top?”

“You’ll see soon enough,” Ell said, “Back in the early days of this planet, Listronians were known for their unique spirituality. We believed every creature and object had a spirit and essence that it offered to the universe in a way only it could. Our deity was Artres, goddess of flowers and abundance. According to ancient myths, this hillside was her home… to this day, we still hold many funerals and weddings at the peak, and many of the older generations still believe it honors Artres. I’m not very religious myself, but the sentiment is nice.”

Mando listened to her explanation quietly as they navigated the tricky hillside, and Elliotte continued to recite old myths and stories about the creation of the planet, the supposed death of the goddess, and her rebirth in the form of a meadow of flowers, but her organized storytelling quickly dropped off in favor of enthusiasm as they neared the peak. She increased her pace until she was jogging the final stretch and turned around to wave him on and beckon him to hurry up.

Eventually Mando was standing beside her at the summit of the hill, looking out over a vast meadow of flowers that varied in color from blues and purples to reds and yellows and whites. The thick trees didn’t seem to grow into the meadow; Instead, they outlined the hilltop from the edges. The only thing around to interrupt the expanse of flowers was a small lake filled with crystalline water so pure one could see to the very bottom. In front of the lake was what appeared to be a small shrine.

The shrine itself was made of old, deep brown wood that had obviously been replaced and refurbished multiple times over the years. Semi-fresh flowers, wilted beneath the heat of the sun, had been weaved into the lattice pattern. Perhaps the features that stood out most was the pair of large antlers against the back of the shrine and the two sets of silver claws that dangled from them. While the antlers looked natural, the “claws” were clearly manmade--composed of the same carved silver that wrapped Elliotte’s forearm.

Ell seemed to pick up on his curiosity quickly. “The antlers are from the Warhara. They’re a large canid species native to Listronus. Their antlers are strong and sturdy, and are worn by our Kings so that they may embody the same traits.”

“And these?” Mando said, cupping his hand beneath the silver claws.

“These are similarly modeled after the Warhara. To represent the spirit of a warrior. Before modern times, they were worn by footsoldiers and guardsmen, but obviously this sort of weaponry is outdated. These days, they’re worn exclusively for ritual combat… Look.” Elliotte carefully took the silver pieces off of the antlers and turned them over so that her companion was able to see the thin loop made on the underside of each claw. She slid her fingers into each loop and flexed them to show off the new extension of her hand. “They’re pretty cool, right? Personally, I think we should bring them back as part of our everyday wardrobe,” she took the claws back off and draped them back over the Warhara’s antlers before turning to him.

“Princes of Listronus can lawfully challenge the Kings for the throne, but the only weapons they are allowed are those. It’s a dangerous event. Those claws are excellent for speed, but they definitely don’t provide the same kind of protection as your um… ‘beskar’, it is called, right?” She asked, stepping away from the small shrine and crossing the meadow to the edge of the small lake. There, she knelt in the grass beside the basket of useme nuts and patted the space beside her to encourage him to join her. He did so, and not soon afterward, Elliotte reached up and began to pluck the day-old flower buds from her hair. She unraveled them one at a time and set them aside in a neat pile beside her as she stole a glance in the Mandalorian’s direction.

“Anyway, I’ve chattered on about history lessons long enough. I’m curious to learn more about you, if you would be willing to share. You mentioned earlier that you were a bounty hunter at one point… surely you have some interesting stories to tell?”

“Plenty,” Mando responded, the chuckle that followed catching on the modulator of his helmet, “... I don’t suppose you’ve heard of a ‘Mudhorn’ before, have you?”

Ell hummed thoughtfully, then offered a small shrug. “I’ve read briefly about them in books and on datapads through the years, but they’ve never been something I’ve heavily studied… why?”

The Mandalorian leaned back in the grass, placing his hands behind him as his helmet tipped skyward. “It wasn’t too long ago, actually… I was on assignment when a group of Jawas in their sandcrawler stole all the valuable parts they could scavenge from my ship. In order to get them to agree to return the pieces, they had me bring an egg of a Mudhorn as a trade. These things are… huge and incredibly territorial, and it wasn’t too happy to see me near its egg. I was outmatched immediately; It nearly shredded my armor and my weapons couldn’t even touch it --- in all honesty, I really thought I was done for. But then the kid, he--” he reached out to mimic the gesture the child seemed to make with his hands, but hesitated before finishing his sentence.

Perhaps it wasn’t wise to share this information publicly. But Elliotte was enthralled by the story, fingers paused over the stem of a flower in her curled strand of hair and eyes wide with wonder and fascination, and the Mandalorian couldn’t find it in him to withhold the rest of the story from her. “All of a sudden, it stopped. The Mudhorn, mid-charge. I thought I must have died, because I sure didn’t believe what I was seeing. The whole creature was just… floating in front of me in the air. When I looked over at the kid, he had his hand out like this--” he mimicked the motion, “Keeping it suspended. I’ve never seen anything like it. With him keeping it occupied, I was able to finish it off but if he hadn’t… there’s no doubt I wouldn’t be sitting here now.”

To his surprise, when he’d finished his retelling, Ell snickered softly and set the last flower aside. “That’s an interesting story, Mando.”

“You don’t believe me?”

“Sure I do. The universe is so vast and unique, there’s no way we can possibly understand all of its inner workings. Just because something isn’t common doesn’t mean it’s impossible,” now that she’d finished removing the petals and buds from her hair, she turned away and began to pluck new ones from the colorful meadow nearby. “Priestesses in Listronian history have exhibited similar abilities. It was thought to be a given gift by Artres herself, you know. Not that I believe too heavily in old religion, but perhaps your child has just inherited something similar. It sounds quite extraordinary.”

The Mandalorian cast her a glance from the side of his visor. Not only had Elliotte responded unexpectedly well to such a story, but she believed it wholeheartedly. He was hesitant to call it naivety, as she really was knowledgeable about her planet and people, but trust was a difficult thing to come by in his line of work. “You’re unpredictably nonchalant about this.”

To that, Ell laughed softly. “In my experience, closed mindedness is dangerous. It lures one into a false sense of security, content in the idea they have all the answers, whereas open mindedness allows room to learn and grow… to fluctuate and move, like flowers in an afternoon breeze.”

This sentiment only served to further cast a ripple in the Mandalorian’s original judgement of Elliotte Cantossan. Despite himself being the one wrapped head to toe in protective metal, the one meant to be a mystery, he found himself more at a loss with her -- the harpist whose only armor was the band of silver on her forearm and the woman who willingly sought him for nothing but his company?

She had trusted him enough to allow him into her house and enough to agree to visit his, and even enough to bring him to the holiest space on her homeworld… and yet, as he’d come to realize, he still knew hardly anything about her. She knew hardly anything about him. And yet he felt drawn to her -- comfortable around her -- as if parts of him could seep through the gaps in his armor without worry in her presence.

By the way Ell’s smile brightened just a little when she saw the t-shape of his visor faced in her direction, he could almost believe she felt the same. As he watched her begin to tie fresh flowers into her hair, he could no longer keep himself from asking the question: “The flowers… they’re incorporated everywhere on this planet. What is the significance? Why do you put them into your hair like that?”

“Spiritually speaking, flowers are symbolic to Artres--”

“No, why do you do it?”

Ell seemed taken aback by his question, normally steady fingers faltering and causing the strand of hair to unwrap from the stem of a pink flower. She quietly cleared her throat and began the process again. “We call it artresmour. “Godlike love”. To put them on yourself is to express vitality and youth and self love -- to put it on anyone else is to express devotion and trust… it’s like saying… ‘you are important to me in a way words cannot describe.’ It’s not necessarily romantic; It’s romantic and platonic and familial. Some villages even use it as a greeting to strangers and newcomers. It unites us. Godlike love,” she paused briefly before continuing, “To me, it’s a way to deepen bonds; My best friend and I take turns every time we meet… it’s the way we acknowledge each other’s struggles and our fights to overcome them, and our way of assuring each other we aren’t going it alone.”

There was a brief pause between the two of them before the Mandalorian chose to break the silence. “How do you feel about… doing it blindfolded?”

TAGS: Message me/send me an ask to be added.

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23677540/chapters/60781519

#star wars #the mandalorian #mando #mando x oc #star wars x oc #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #the mandalorian fic #mando fic #oc #my writing #din djarin #baby yoda #din djarin x oc #din djarin/oc

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transmechanicus · 4 years

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Hi!. Going to ask something so controversial. So sorry. Been on the table top here in Canada. The table top guys don’t mind this idea. Female space marines. With continuing lore? Do you think it’s possible and would the imperium make the sisters become like those marines. Aka the church. Since the sisters have that training.

Possible, certainly. Aside from the kneecapping the Mechanicus has taken in scientific understanding, i see the prospect of female space marines as equivalent to female spartans in halo. Any gender based differences, especially from a pre-pubescent starting point, are negligible in terms of the end result of genetic engineering and years of training. I should know, I’m a biochemist.

Do I think its likely to be capitalized on by GW...:/ Not really. A significant portion of the fanbase would be dismissive at best, hostile at worst, to the idea of women being incorporated into a previously male exclusive environment. They would probably hide it behind excuses drawn from overly simplified biology, or in-universe declarations that it is disobeying the Emperor’s will to make them.

I personally recognize the appeal of the male-exclusive environment as a concept, but I think female space marines could be capitalized on in spite of it. Maybe an in-universe requirement for their continued existence is they can’t be mixed with existing chapters, because [insert reason i have too many braincells to come up with]. Introducing female Space Marines into their own Chapters comes with its own problems of any fans who dislike them ranting about how its So Unlikely that Cawl (cause who tf else is gonna do it) would be smart enough to make what the Emperor could/would not. Like the introduction of Primaris, but even worse cause now there’s sexism involved. Also you KNOW that if a female space marine falls to Chaos there would be so many bad takes from Reddit.

Upgrading the sisters seems more likely, but i would not put money on it happening soon. It would lead into an interesting conflict between the Ecclesiarchy and the Mechanicus, cause suddenly the religion of half the imperium has a private space marine force. Tbh if the Sisters hadn’t just gotten updated I would have proposed them being boosted to full Space Marines, but now any chance of that has been pushed back by like a decade with the revival of the Sisters tabletop range.

Optimal scenario in my opinion? Assuming 0 backlash whatsoever? Cawl starts making female Space Marines just for funsies. Makes a handful of all-female chapters. Absolutely NONE of them are themed to be sexy in any way or i execute GW’s board of directors. The sororitas ask to take advantage of the gene upgrades Rubicon Primaris style, with great success. Initially, most Space Marine Chapters are dismissive, because of course they are, [insert comment about gene-lines or having fought in the HH]. However, as they see the effectiveness of female space marines, previously male chapters begin incorporating them. My money’s on the Blood Angels (A typically “nice” chapter) or the Iron Hands (Based on pragmatism). Acceptance of female space marines then has to go through the same slog as Primaris to repeatedly demonstrate their loyalty and effectiveness in battle beyond all doubt. If a female space marine is shown falling to Chaos for BS reasons within the first 5 years after introduction i EAT the GW board. Eventually all chapters are co-ed to some degree just like Stormcast eternals. Anyone who rejects the idea of female space marines is free to set their army any time between M31 and M41. M42 onward, you gotta put women in. TheCostOfProgress.jpg

I apologize profusely for the length.

#my stuff #asks #wh40k #warhammer 40k

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orgasmiccontagion · 4 years

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In light of recent events and the pouring out of despair that I’ve seen on here among the various anarchist/insurrectionists/anti-civ individuals for the inevitably reformist recuperation of the uprisings in response to police brutality and white supremacy in America, I want to highlight a passage that I read in ‘ Critique of Chrisso and Odeteo’s Barbarians” by Frére Dupont, one of the authors responsible for writing “Nihilist Communism”. It may not be something we want to hear right now in response to what is transpiring, but there are some crucial points of critique being expounded here: “On what level does the militancy that C+O (Chrisso and Odeteo) validate signify to the self yes, we feel good to come off best after an encounter with the authorities, but to the authorities themselves and beyond them, to the existing structure, what value does any instance have? A burnt-out bank is a boon for builders, cleaning companies, cops, security advisers, property developers. A riot, like a forest fire, is good for business, cleans out the old, shock and awe. Capitalism makes capital out of conflict and disaster. Rioters and insurrectionists are not the most resistant elements in society, they are perhaps the most conscious, the most confrontational but they are also the most spectacular, the most self-conscious, the most prey to delusions of ‘people power.’ The insurrectionist is fine in his moment, and so many of them fall away exhausted, but they act only for themselves, they are not creating a better world, they are not at the front. They act for themselves, the extreme acts of a few will never be a substitute for the small acts of becoming human of the many. to acknowledge this, to accept the essentially selfish and subjective nature of the ‘black block’ is not to say we must not resist. On the contrary, we must continue. It is only to say, that there is no necessary connection with the outside through our desire for it. It is likely that our resistance, in the end counts in favor of existing authority and against the possibility for revolution. All we can say with certainty is that we can recognize what is not outside.” At a first glance of course we could dismiss this as counter-insurgency misrepresentation of insurrectionist action that has no purpose but to undermine the efforts made by the anarchists really out there throwing down. However, I think what Dupont is doing here is highlighting the burnout that anarchists feel time and time again is due to their failure to acknowledge that a few intensely radical individuals simply cannot through their own will annihilate a system as all encompassing as capitalism (and by extension the state and civilization) without acknowledging the efforts needed from those who are not already radicalized. Throughout my time spent on here the last couple of weeks I see pro-insurrectionist anarchists (myself included) giddy with excitement that because of riots/looting/precincts being burned down that we were on the cusp of a true apeshit moment in America. Unfortunately, within just over a week corporations, media, and the innumerable activist/careerist/opportunist rackets captured the virulent rage spreading throughout the metropolitan areas of America and beyond in order to reform us back in line once again. Due to the fact that (as is all too obvious) the vast majority of people do not have any ideas of a world “outside” the one which has ensconced all life within its totality (insert discussions on domestication, spectacles, the hyperreal, desire etc etc), the reformists are gaining the upper hand and the radical potentials are fizzling out due to counter-insurgency propaganda and worries among leftists and centrists of “de-legitimizing the movement”. However, getting excited about violent rebellion is one thing, but the subsequent crash into the reformist rackets shouldn’t lead anarchists into disappointment and defeatism, but rather revaluating and transparent criticism. Hence, this is why I want to launch deeper into what’s being said here. For one, the beginning of the passage discusses the emotional high radicals get off of clashes directly with the state and the institutions that protect them. Of course, this is a predictable reaction and one that should inspire more and more people to embrace their rage against the state. However, if the only places where these actions take place is in a few dozen large urban territories around the country, and if only an isolated number of businesses/police stations/institutions are attacked, how can we expect that this wound sundered in the death machines of capital will not close up in the blink of an eye? @corvid420 pointed out that cops that are resigning from large city police forces (NYPD for example) will likely move into the suburbs or smaller districts and be hired as cops there, suburbs which house the petit-bourgeois/bourgeois sectors of society (not to mention majorly white). These places have seen far less action in comparison but still encompass many of the characteristics as the big cities (shopping malls, police stations, jails, courthouses), and while these spaces of society still remain untouched there will not be any significant strides in working towards an abolition of capital.

To build off the previous point, insurrectionists run the risk of spectaclizing their efforts as we have already seen the media continue to use the rioting/looting argument to discredit the most angry portions of the revolt. The ontological problem of “becoming-imperceptible” in an age of smart phones, mass surveillance and police helicopters continues to pose an immense obstacle in struggles such as these. Isolated incidents of a burned AutoZone or shoe stores being looted in New York make it easy to highlight and demonize a subset of “unlawful individuals” who are “not paying honor to the legacy” of the state sanctioned murders of black people in America. More importantly, due to the ways in which people in capitalist society create identities based on brands and commodities, they will empathize with business that have suffered from the riots and looting first. They will mostly ignore the economic crisis brought on by COVID-19 that is influencing a lot of this action in the first place (and even if this devastating crisis wasn’t occurring, why should we care if we deny the surplus value from corporations and engage in our own excess?). Insurrection needs to be treated as an all or nothing affair, otherwise its integration into the spectacle is only a matter of time. Of course, as Dupont points out later in this passage, he doesn’t want the banks to stop burning, but rather wishes to point out that smaller actions against the logic of capital by the majority will do far more than a few insurrectionists trashing a Target (or other similar large displays of disobedience). Fortunately, I have seen more and more anarchists highlighting the importance of this lately on here as of late, although at times like these those suggestions get buried under the desire to go out and break shit (I’m guilty of this as well).

Finally, and perhaps the most controversial portion of this excerpt, is Dupont’s discussion on the insurrectionist’s position in the overall revolutionary potential against capitalism. They highlight the individualistic nature of insurrectionists, and how in the moment they act mostly for their own desires. They are not, as Dupont argues, the “most resistance group” among those that suffer under capitalism, but rather the “most conscious”. This consciousness is perhaps the greatest strength insurrectionists have, in that these anarchists will embrace the most violent and extreme measures to go to in order for the current order to collapse. However, it is what also leads anarchists to feeling burnout when revolts and protests continue to get recuperated. This is where I agree the most with Dupont and see this passage as mostly coming across from a point of empathy rather than contempt. However, wanting to attack the state/capitalism/civilization from an individualist perspective is a necessary means to act within the context of the current struggle. This I think is a misunderstanding on Dupont’s part. The individualist tendencies of insurrectionary anarchists does not stop at the singular level but creates trajectories toward molecular forms. Through individuals enunciating their own struggles in the various spaces of the capitalist world, we can found relationships unmediated by the haunting specters of civilized life and use each other to the advantage of all. However, to the credit of Dupont, the desires of most people do not align with a revolutionary trajectory and therefore those individualistic tendencies can come across as impotent and ineffective. This of course is where future struggles and crises will have to compound on each other in order to make a push toward a different direction. The sobering observation of the crisis still being out of sight for most of those around us does not mean it can always be pushed to the periphery forever. Insurrectionists cannot be at a “front” because simply put there is nothing to be in front of, and they cannot create a better world because it isn’t up to them alone to create it. This is the real struggle not just for anarchists but anyone who rejects the current state of things. It is the struggle to form a movement, a revolutionary trajectory, when at the present there is hardly anything to mobilize.

Overall, I find Dupont’s insights to be valuable at a time like this, despite some of the points I found a bit off. Using this passage as a way to focus on the response to not only what’s going on now but the inevitable crises of tomorrow will allow some necessary reflections on how things went down undesirably. I welcome any positive or negative feedback/commentary to this response and how it fits with the unrest going on currently in the United States and abroad. I do not wish to speak on behalf of anyone else, only from my own perspective and how I see the current movement unfolding and how other anarchists around me (who have much more experience in this than I) are reacting.

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