Tumgik
#but also ... my mother is not innocent; because if she really was radically different from him she would argue with him and at least try -
azuleopal · 2 years
Note
If you'd like to continue talking to me, that's great. I have a question for you.
Why are you pro-choice? What does being pro-choice mean to you. Just so I can understand where you're coming from.
Excellent question, so glad you asked.
Simply put, I come from a place of radical empathy and an understanding of what the word "choice" means in protecting life.
Nobody in the world gets to define what my life, body, purpose, or family looks like. And I don't get to decide those things for anyone else.
While I aknowledge and respect that to some people, pregnancy, parenthood and kids are THE goal, to me, being a mother would be the biggest failure to myself. And both opinions are equally valid and require support, in the forms of parental support and abortion, respectively.
I'm pro choice because I have listened to people who grew up in the foster care system because they weren't aborted. I wouldn't wish that hell on anyone, especially not an innocent baby who never asked to be born yet would be paying the price.
I'm pro-choice because I've studied the biology. I've looked at fetal development, I've learned all the nitty gritty, Alien-esque horrors of pregnancy. Funny how the men directing that movie consider having some formless blob growing inside you and then bursting forth and ruining your life to be terrifying, yet women who experience it every day don't get taken seriously.
I've watched the life drain out of exhausted parents' eyes. I've watched women's lives bodies and minds be destroyed because they couldn't get the healthcare they needed. I've seen the difference in how easy it is for men to get sterilized vs women, on which I can make a whole other post. And none of it appealed to me. It horrified me, actually. The hair loss. The skin changes. The weight gain. The muscle dilapidation. The pain. The ripping. The teeth falling out, the ankle-swelling, the illness, the complications. The depression and anxiety, the paranoia around losing the pregnancy and if not the pregnancy, then the baby. And if not the baby, the child. And if not the child, the teen drinker. Or the adult driver. I can't imagine losing a child at any stage of life. The toil of a lifetime rewarded with nothing but grief and pain so profound it kills you. I don't want that for myself and I shouldn't be expected to throw my life away for it the way so many women are.
I also know a fetus literally relies on the body for survival, gets priority of the body's resources, and more. I've deducted that if you're okay with having me hang off your spleen for the better part of a year, occasionally kicking you, and sucking your blood and stealing your food, only to then push me out of your nostril, then kudos to you, you fucking masochist. I'm not interested in such aggressive parasitism.
I'm pro choice because I've raised my little siblings when I myself was just a child. And I've taught karate to neurodivergent children between the age of 5-12 and I know first hand that it's worse than herding cats that scream each time you look at them. It's hell and I wouldn't wish (even for my worst enemy) for anyone to be put through that, all day every day, for two decades unless they were really, really, REALLY sure they were ready, enthusiastically willing and capable.
I'm pro-choice because I believe no child should be born into a life where they are doomed to suffer, be it from resentful or neglectful parents that can't afford the kid, or can't provide them a healthy, safe, loving childhood; abuse; given up to the horrors of the foster care system.
Or christofascism where it intersects with capitalism in the US.
Or a world where either he will be expected to control others and "be a man" at the expense of his mental health; or a world where she will be viewed as a sexual object, at risk of the very same bullshit I'm at risk of now. Or a world that is still so full of hate and ignorance to their gender that they are at the highest risk of either suicide or a hate crime. A world where rape culture and the patriarchy still run rampant.
Or any family into which they are not wanted.
Children are not a punishment. They are the most difficult job in the world. That's why you need to be 100000% sure you want them, or else everyone suffers needlessly.
I am pro-choice because abortion is the treatment for septic fetuses, ectopic pregnancies, a pregnancy that starts out being wanted and goes wrong later on, the less than 5% of rape cases you forced birth extremists love to mock but in return I ask why the fuck does a person need to be violated first before having the right to their own health?
I am pro choice because "pro-life" kills.
It kills pregnant women who wanted a baby. It kills pregnant women who didn't. It kills poor women, black women, trans men, disabled women, chronically ill women. It kills women with male partners who don't want to be fathers and that's already the number one killer of pregnant women. Your people don't care about these women, despite them being the majority.
Your people don't actually care about the kids either, once they've stopped using women. How do I know? Because your representative politicians say they want a "supply of white babies", that "contraception would lead to women having careers" (oh horrors), and "IVF doesn't count because it's not in the womb". You have no issue killing embryos beyond the six weeks of conception date because they're not using a woman's body.
Women have always been used. For sex. For money. For the man's lineage, as if that even fucking matters. For free labour at home. For advertisements. For "reminding soldiers of what they are fighting for back home" aka give them masturbation material. Forced pregnancy is just one more way to turn women into breeding pets, and that is abhorrent.
I am pro choice because the only thing that matters in life is love. We are mortals who rely on love for survival our whole lives. That's why babies are cute. That'z why birth contractions grow as a result of serotonin release during labour. That's why skin-to-skin and breast-feeding are important. That's why telling your son "I love you" every once in a while might just save his life and the health of his masculinity and mental health. There is so much awfulness in the world that we cannot control, and it is therefore our duty as individuals to lessen the burden of others as much as we CAN control. And like it or not,wanted parenthood is a miracle, but unwanted parenthood is a burden. A massive burden that affects both unwilling parent and unwanted child. Why would we do that to people?
I am pro-choice because I care about the people in front of me, the present and future of the people who have already established their life, feel pain and joy and pleasure.
I am pro choice because I am Jewish. And in Judiasm, life begins at first breath and ends at last breath. We are not alive before and we are not alive after.
I am pro-choice because I align with the scientific and constitutional fact that a person can deny their organs to an already living person, even if they are the only match and the person is on the brink of death. If you are so adamant about a fetus being a person, that rule applies to them too. If you finally agree that a person has a right to choose for themselves, then that person has a right to choose for themselves, pure and simple. Either way, a person gets to choose whether or not to give their organs to the survival of another organism. Refusing a person the right to their own organs is a human rights violation.
A child is entirely reliant on their parent. That parent owes it to the child to be the best damn parent they can be, and that's impossible when that parent works, or has a life outside of that child. But that person would then be trapped, financially dependent and prioritizing the kid even at their own expense. Nobody should be forced to do that against their will.
I'm pro choice because I exist because of abortion. I have a mother and three younger siblings because of abortion. If it weren't for abortion, my mother would have died from a week-old septic fetus, a month before I was conceived. I'm pro-choice because my brother was an unplanned pregnancy, but my parents had the CHOICE to keep him. We all owe it to our mothers to fight for their damn lives. Not for their oppression.
I'm pro-choice because people who would die from pregnancy or would pass on debilitating illnesses that would drag the baby's quality of life down would only increase suffering and financial stress. And affording a disability in the US right now is literally impossible.
I'm pro-choice because I am not my uterus. My uterus is mine, and I'm the only one who dictates what happens in it, because I'm the only one affected by it. Forced birth extremists' obsession with controlling it is creepy and inappropriate. I am not a hotel for unwanted guests.
I'm pro-choice because the only person who gets a choice in their own life especially when having a kid would affect your life negatively, is you.
Now, I don't particularly care if you agree with this or not, or if you even take the time to read it, so go ahead and roll your eyes, call me an emotional selfish bitch for *checks notes* being angry about needing to convince you my life is worth more than a literal glob of DNA in ways you take for granted.
If you still can't see that your philosophy does real-world harm to real-world people, and that that's the worst crime you could commit against another person, then I'm done speaking civilly with someone who refuses to see me and sees only what my body is capable of having done to it without caring if it kills me.
20 notes · View notes
alfalcone · 2 years
Note
That other anon going "Your “he’s a bad guy” argument is invalid. You do know cat women is also a villain right?" has gotta be the weirdest attempt at a gotcha I've seen in a while lmao
because first of all Catwoman in this movie isn't even a villain? Sure she's technically a criminal but there is an extremely big difference between the 'crimes' she committed (trying to steal back Annika's passport that had been taken away by a human trafficker; trying to steal some money from a mob boss so she and Annika can leave the city and live in peace; trying to kill her abusive father that murdered both her mother and her best friend/partner) and riddler's (multiple horrifying and violent sadistic murders that he clearly got off on and that he committed solely for the sake of selfish vengeance and public attention (and no, his motives weren't 'morally grey' ! even Joker in the deleted scene points out that his motives aren't political - he just pretends they are); blowing up infrastructure and flooding the city to 'make everyone suffer like he did'; radicalizing other men and inciting a whole mass shooting of innocents!!!) like. if you think these things are anywhere even near the same level of morality you really should examine yourself because that's seriously concerning lmao.
And then second: what does that anon mean, you never even said that you had any issues with shipping a hero and a 'bad guy'? him being a villain isn't the issue with that ship it's what kind of villain he is. he's not just some standard bad guy he's jigsaw's right-wing terrorist cousin lmao. These people are literally trying to ship Batman with the zodiac killer! "But he's fictional he's not-" stop, his character is literally canonically based on real serial killers both in design and behavior, the 'it's just a fictional character' argument doesn't work if the lines are this blurred! just because the character is also an adaption of a classic comic book villain doesn't erase that this version is based on and stands for real horrible people! This isn't the comic book version! like, personally I don't, but imo if someone else ships the comic book versions of Edward and Bruce then sure, have fun! Comics continuity is all over the place anyways so you're not erasing any other ships and the comics version of the character is just a normal villain and in some cases even tends to be more morally grey or ambiguous than evil, sometimes even goes 'good' for a while and helps solve cases and a lot of his interactions with Batman tend to be romantic coded anyways, so for the comics versions shipping them is fair game imo, even if I don't personally ship it. But this isn't the comics versions!!! This is a very! different! situation! It's not shipping the protagonist with a morally ambiguous villain, it's shipping him with a straight up alt-right mass shooter while also erasing an existing interracial relationship for the sake of a canon toxic white one!!! Just! This is not the same!! Why don't people understand that? It's so frustrating
Tumblr media
thanks for your message! i didn't want to engage with these people in good faith because they're ridiculous and fill my inbox with messages like this:
Tumblr media Tumblr media
but you're absolutely right. i co-sign everything you said, and i appreciate your patience in actually outlining the issues. it is so frustrating that i really am tapped out. but so many eloquent words have been written on the subject of why selina erasure is a racialized issue by wonderful people like @bendixcastle and @thebatmanirl has written on the myriad issues with riddlebat in the context of the batman at length, so go and check them out, too 💕
6 notes · View notes
sternvonafrika · 3 years
Text
i will never forget how my mother told me "you know i would support you more if it wasn't for your father"
10 notes · View notes
tricksters-captain · 3 years
Text
Helmut Zemo imagines - Hostage Part 1
Tumblr media
AN: I came up with this idea for a series in the shower and I hope you guys are as intrigued by it as I am. Also I’m aware it’s posted later than I said but I’m a perfectionist and couldn’t post it until I was happy with it!! To make up for it, I have some Laszlo Kreizler smut coming up soon for you Alienist fans. 
Summary: You were chosen as one of Karli’s elite. You became a super soldier to help your cause, make the world a better place but taking the serum came with a price. After being cornered one day, you’re taken by the famous Helmut Zemo to give him answers or face the consequences. 
In This Chapter: Introductions. You are sent on a mission for Karli, only for it to turn bad. 
Pairing(s): Zemo x Fem!Reader, Karli Morganthau x Platonic!Reader
Word Count: 2,703
Warnings: Spoilers for TFATWS, violence, strong language 
You stared back at the burning building as the truck pulled away. 
Despite the rumbling of the thick tires on the tarmac beneath you, you could hear the screaming. 
“Hey.” DeeDee placed a hand on your shoulder and tugged you round. “Don’t look.” 
You could see in her eyes that she was just as shocked as you were but was trying to hide it.
The task had been to remove as many supplies as possible from the GRC depot to take back to the camps in Riga. There had been no mention of bombing the place. 
Lennox’s eyes met yours in the rear-view mirror. You were all thinking the same thing. 
Why would Karli go through with something that hadn’t even been discussed?
“Turn here. It’s faster.” DeeDee leant forward pointing towards a more narrow alley as fire engine sirens echoed up ahead. 
Lennox did as suggested and the others followed close behind. 
It wasn’t a long drive from Vilnius to Riga but you all stopped when daylight broke to take some time to eat something. 
You sat down beside Diego, your eyes flickering to Karli every few minutes as she dished out supplies for you all. 
She noticed. 
“(Y/n).” Karli remained standing as she handed out the last can to Dovich. 
You took the hint and rose to your feet. 
You followed her to the side of the abandoned structure as the others tried to tune the radio. 
“What’s the problem?” Karli asked you, a hard expression across her features.
“What’s the problem?” You couldn’t help but scoff at the question. “Karli, you blew up a building with people still tied up inside.” 
“I did what I had to do. It’s the only language these people understand. You saw just how much food, water and medicine they were sitting on. If we had a fraction of that just a few months ago Mama Donya might still be alive.” You could see the tears Karli was trying to suppress as she spoke of Mama Donya.
“You still should’ve consulted us before you went ahead with it. We’re better than an eye for an eye and you know that.” You cautiously took her hand into yours to try and comfort her. “We’re trying to make a difference here.”
“And that is how we do it.” She dropped your hand as she defended her actions. You shook your head but didn’t retaliate. You knew there was no use in arguing with her in that moment. 
“There’s something I need you to do after Mama Donya’s funeral today.” Karli was quick to change the topic. “A mission for you and DeeDee.” 
“What is it?” You asked, folding your arms across your chest. 
“I need you to go to these coordinates immediately after the funeral. One of our allies will be expecting you both. He has information and something I need. It’ll be a parcel, small enough to conceal so you can make your way back to us without any suspicion.” Karli texted over the coordinates and the information on the contact. 
“How can you be sure it’s safe?” You asked as you studied his profile. 
“I wouldn’t send you if it wasn’t.” Karli paused before she wrapped her hand around the back of your neck and brought your forehead to hers. “We have to stick together now more than ever.” 
You closed your eyes and exhaled a shaky breath. 
“One world.” You muttered. 
“One people.”Karli pulled away just as Dovich called over to you both. 
They had managed to get the radio to work. 
You sat down and opened a can of fruit slices to try and quench your hunger. 
“The depot that was bombed was funded and run by the GRC, the Global Repatriation Council. One of the workers killed was the father of two and had only been on the job for one week. After condemning this latest action by the radical group known as the Flag Smashers, the GRC formally began drafting legislation known as The Patch Act, which would seek to restore traditional border regulations and fast-track the return to normalcy. The act of violence has also brought attention and followers to the Flag Smasher cause. No one can deny the world-wide reach of this group is growing, as is the danger.”
You shared a look with Gigi and Dovich as you listened to the broadcast. Your stomach churned at the mention of the father. You swallowed hard as you placed your food down. 
Karli parted from the group again, feeling the pressure of the eyes on her, but you chose not to follow. 
You had known Karli for 3 years. You met in Riga and became close quickly. You both had lost everything and then you had each other. When she took off to Madripoor, you followed. She always knew how to get people to see things her way, she had a spark inside of her that drew in those who wanted to fight for something; she was powerful for 19. She only grew more powerful with the serums. 
You had backed her and supported her from the start but something was twisting. Something was going sour. You had never killed innocents before but in Karli’s eyes; was anyone on the side of the GRC innocent?
“Finish up. We need to get to the border in time to meet our contact.” Karli strode past the group and didn’t stop until she climbed into one of the cars. 
You cleaned up after yourselves, leaving no trace that you were there, before you got back on the road. 
You were back in Riga soon enough, your contact at the border let you through without any issues and you made it to the checkpoint with all the supplies safely. 
Fortunately, you still had time to spare before Donya’s funeral. 
You remained hidden, on the low, whilst Karli went with Nico to pick up the leftover serums. 
You had previously spoken about creating more super soldiers. You had been against it. There were more than enough of you for the moment and the process of turning into one was beyond any pain you’d ever felt. You didn’t think more people needed to go through that. However, the vote passed and more were to be created. 
“You ready?” Karli asked you as she returned. You nodded. 
You headed to the secret location of Mama Donya’s funeral and fell into the crowd as the body came into sight. Mama Donya had been important to Karli and therefore important to you. She had been a kind woman. Kind to you. But Karli had a bond with her that you didn’t. This was Karli’s time to heal, to grieve, to help those who also relied on Donya. 
You watched Karli step up to say a few words. 
“I don’t remember my mother or my father. Same goes for siblings, grandparents, cousins. What I do remember is being alone. Worse than being hungry or cold or scared. I was alone. Until Mama Donya. Like a lot of you here, Mama Donya saved me. She clothed me, fed me, loved me.” You followed Karli’s eye line when she gasped softly. 
It was Sam Wilson. Avenger. 
You felt your blood go cold. Usually where there was one avenger, there were sure to be more. 
“She taught me that we have to do for each other because they won’t. And we know who they are. They imposed struggle and hardship on us, then labeled us as criminals for pushing back. But the struggle is what brings us all together. People who have nothin’ in common. For we are, after all, simply one world and one people. So live accordingly.”
As you stepped forward and placed your bouquet of flowers down beside Donya, Karli clasped hold on your wrist. 
“Go now.” She whispered under her breath. 
“What about you?” You asked. 
“I’ll be fine. Get to the contact.” Karli tried to assure you but you weren’t certain on leaving her. Dovich guided you away to stop you from arguing with Karli about it. He told you that he was going to stay behind to help Karli and that you had a more important job to do right now. 
You had to give in and leave. 
As you made your exit, you grabbed DeeDee and the keys to the motorbike outside. 
“We gotta make a detour. Make sure we aren’t being followed.” You announced as you climbed onto the motorbike. 
“Karli said our guy would wait for us so it’s better to be safe than sorry. We can’t mess this up.” DeeDee agreed with you as she placed herself behind you. 
You took off down the street and did your best to lose any tails. 
You ended up ditching the bike and moving underground once you were sure you were alone. 
You were either really lucky or they had only brought enough backup to deal with Karli. 
“We should be close.” You checked your phone to read the GPS before placing on your mask. 
DeeDee held the flashlight up as you worked your way through the empty tunnel. 
“You’d think Karli could organise a rendezvous point somewhere a little less musty.” DeeDee grimaced as a trio of rats scattered past you both. 
“This is the safest way. We may have gained a lot of supporters above ground but we have a lot of enemies too.” You tried to defend Karli’s choice but even you had to admit that the sewers were a low point for you all. 
“You think she got away okay?” DeeDee asked, the concern obvious in her voice despite her blank expression. 
“I think Karli’s smart and she wouldn’t stick around if she knew she couldn’t win.” You may have been anxious for her but you rarely had doubts with Karli. Even without the serum she always managed to slip through the cracks. 
As you continued to make your way through the tunnels, you spotted a silhouette up ahead. 
You narrowed your eyes as DeeDee shone her light on him. 
Fortautely, it was your contact.
“Greetings.” The man smiled widely at you both. He wore a bright head torch that stopped you from looking him in the eye and a large forest green coat. 
“We’re here to collect the parcel and information for Karli.” DeeDee informed him, shading her eyes from his light as she tried to lift her gaze. 
“Yes. Yes. I know.” The short man pulled out a small object wrapped in brown paper from under his coat. “Karli said you would be coming.” 
As the man spoke, you heard something splash in the water behind you. 
“What was that?” You asked, looking back to see if you could spot anything. 
“It was probably just one of the rats.” DeeDee tried to assure you but the hairs on the back of your neck began to stand up. 
You had a bad feeling about it. 
“I’m going to check it out.” You whispered to her. “Better safe than sorry.” You repeated what she had said earlier. 
“Be careful.” DeeDee handed you her flashlight before letting you go. 
You crept back round the corner from whence you had came. You remained close to the wall to avoid any oncoming intruders head on. Peering down into the water, you saw that it had been in fact just a rat that was now paddling through the sewage. 
“It's okay.” You relaxed, shouting ahead so they could hear you. “It was just a ra–––” You were cut short by a gloved hand covering your mouth. 
You sent your elbow backwards instinctively which threw your attacker into the wall. 
You spun around to see a figure dressed in a lavish coat with a purple mask covering his face. You furrowed your eyebrows at his appearance. You didn’t recognise him as an Avenger. 
He came towards you, sending a fist to the side of your head. You managed to block his attack, kicking him in the chest. 
You thought he’d be no match for you with your enhanced powers but he managed to put up a good fight. 
He wrestled with you against the wall as he gained the advantage. You resorted in head butting him to get him off you. 
You sent your leg up into his side but he wrapped his arm around your calf and yanked you forward. You lost your balance as he grip moved, hooking under your knee. He squeezed your thigh against him as he pulled out a rather large syringe. 
“DEE! RUN!” You managed to howl before the needle sunk into your thigh. 
You tried to fight again as he dropped your leg but your vision became patchy and your balance began to sway. 
Not to your knowledge, he had injected as much tranquilliser into you as one would a tiger. Your enhanced abilities wouldn’t help you with that, you were soon out cold. 
--
The stars shone above you as you and Karli laid back on the bonnet of the car. 
“I genuinely believe that you could be the one to change things, Karl.” You said as you munched down on the chocolate bar she had gifted you. 
“What are you on about?” Karli furrowed her eyebrows through her smile as she turned her head to face you. 
“I mean look what you did for my birthday, just using your powers of persuasion.” You smirked.
“Persuasion isn’t enough to change things.” Karli disagreed. 
“You’re right but right now, people need someone to look up to. Half the world is gone and hope isn’t something that's easy to come by anymore.” You stated. 
“And you think that person could be me?” Karli scoffed at the idea. 
“I think you could do anything you wanted if you put your mind to it.” You broke off a piece of chocolate and handed it to her. 
“I think you’re spending too much time around Mama Donya.” Karli took the chocolate and popped it in her mouth. 
“We’ll see who’s right one day.” You mused with a small smile. Karli rolled her eyes before trying to steal another piece. “Hey! It’s my birthday present!” 
--
When your eyes finally opened, you realised you were no longer in the sewers. 
You were standing but your hands were up above your head, chained to the wall behind you and a large metal strip was around your neck also. You desperately tried to search your surroundings through your mask but the restraints stopped you from moving much. 
The room was dark, no windows, a few dim lights dotted around caused the room to seem almost a brown colour and there was little furniture. 
You would’ve been a fool if you didn’t noticed the gun on a small table off to the side as well as the medical equipment glistening on a tall metal cart. 
Your head throbbed and your mouth held the metallic taste of blood. You tugged at your wrist restraints to test their strength and to your luck they were holding. 
“You’re awake.” You heard a thick accented voice when you stopped rattling your chains. “Good.” 
The possessor of the voice, your kidnapper, stepped into light and you clocked who it was immediately. 
Tumblr media
It was Baron Helmut Zemo. 
Zemo could not see your face as he had left the mask on you but he could tell from your eyes that you knew who he was. 
“I bet you are wondering why you are here. Tied up in this basement.” Zemo started. “Let’s start with introductions, shall we?” 
You remained silent.
“My name is Helmut Zemo––”
“––I know who you are.” You retorted. 
“Then you know what I am capable of.” Zemo glared at you for the interruption. His hands finding his pockets as his eyes settled on your own. 
“I know you’re going to kill me.” You knew of what happened with the Avengers. You knew of Siberia and the destroyed soldiers. You knew of his hate. 
“I’m not going to kill you.” Zemo wagged his finger at you. “Not yet at least. No. We have a few things I’d like to discuss first.”
“Like what?” You scowled at the man. 
“Like the whereabouts of Karli Morgenthau.” 
(PART 2 HERE)
Taglist  
@cathrin2405 @serenityfirefly97​ @shannon-posts​ @dxnxdjarxn​ @hiddlepiddlediddlewiddle​ @trelaney​  @sierrabaltzer​  @daydreamer-in-training​ @e-barba​ @ornella0910​ @natty13 @bry-97​ @cherieweasley​ @kermuddgen @madelyn-barnes @jaxcliffaconda​ @candicerace​ @mo320 @takacsgram @hiccup005 
256 notes · View notes
Text
Gabriel Agreste: Interesting Villain, Horrible Character (400 Follower Special)
Tumblr media
I'm honestly surprised more people didn't want me to talk about Gabriel, especially with how often I rag on how horrible of a person he is. But, three character analysis posts later, and we're going to talk about why the main villain of Miraculous Ladybug is a real letdown.
Gabriel Needs to give the Whining a Rest
The interesting thing is one of the few things I actually liked in Season 3 was Hawkmoth. His plans actually made sense (for the most part), and by playing the long game, he managed to turn Chloe against Ladybug and deprived her of several key allies. Granted, Season 4 immediately undid the latter, but I was still impressed by his strategy.
Generally, one of the better aspects of Gabriel as a character was just how over the top he was as Hawkmoth. Keith Silverstein is clearly giving it his all with his performance, and he is just so enjoyable to watch as a cartoonish supervillain.
And therein lies the first major problem with Gabriel as a character. While he is fun to watch as a simple supervillain, the show tries to give him more depth and unintentionally makes him worse.
In Season 2, when it was revealed that Gabriel was Hawkmoth, many fans speculated on what he needed the Miraculous for, until the Queen Bee Trilogy showed it was to save his possibly dead wife, Emilie. The idea of that is so the show can give more depth to its main villain, and I think it's an interesting idea in concept. After all, the road to Hell is paved with good intentions.
The problem is just how radically different Gabriel is normally compared to how he is as Hawkmoth. He always goes on about how he's “doing this for Emilie”, but it's hard to really sympathize with him when you consider he constantly gives evil monologues and evil laughs, really getting into the supervillain role. And let's not forget all of the “I'm going to wear Ladybug's skin as a suit” faces he loves to make.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Clearly this man is the picture of mental stability.
Gabriel's motivation for being Hawkmoth when compared to what he actually does as Hawkmoth is shady enough, but the thing is that the writers clearly want the audience to at least feel a little bad for him. They want to make the audience sympathize with him despite the way he acts with or without the mask. Without Miraculous Ladybug, he is routinely putting innocent lives in danger and never once shows regret for his actions. All he talks about is how “he's doing this for Emilie”, or that “he'll get their Miraculous soon”. There's no real reason to feel bad for him other than “because the script says so”.
Let's compare Gabriel to Malcolm Merlyn from Arrow. His big plan in the first season of the show is to create a machine that will cause an earthquake to destroy a crime-infested portion of Starling City, claiming to be trying to help everyone, but it's clear he is only doing it out of revenge for his wife getting killed by a criminal from that part of the city. In addition, throughout that season and future seasons, he always makes sure his plans lead to him benefiting in some way, showing he isn't just some noble man trying to achieve his goals with a less than noble method.
If we got some moments that showed that what Gabriel was doing was selfish, it would make him a more complex villain. But we don't get anything like that. What do we get instead? Well...
I Could Really Care Less About Emilie Agreste
We have known Gabriel's motivation has been to save his wife for a little over two years at this point, but at the same time, it's hard to believe that motivation because of how underdeveloped Emilie is as a character.
There have been a total of two lines in the entirety of the show that explain what happened to Emilie, and they're both vague as hell. One of them was from “Feast” that implied Emilie used the broken Peacock Miraculous.
Adrien: My mom used to have dizzy spells… just like Nathalie.
And the other that outright tells the audience what's happening to her in a clip show that most people will skip.
Nathalie: As I've watched Emilie falling deeper into an endless sleep, my sadness for her has deepened, too
That is literally all we get for an explanation, and nothing else. We have no idea of what she's like as a person or what her relationship with her family was like other than Gabriel and Adrien saying they miss her. Other than the way the narrative says she's important to Gabriel and Adrien, we don't really have a reason to care about her as a character. There have also been some lines that imply she went along with Gabriel's questionable parenting techniques, like how he was apparently only homeschooled as a kid (Origins) and never had a birthday party growing up (The Bubbler), so how do we even know if she's a good person? In fact, why not set up this question as a mystery to make the audience wonder if Gabriel has another reason to bring Emilie back?
It ultimately turns Emilie into a plot device and not a character that Gabriel and Adrien only bring up to make the audience feel bad for them, and meant to justify Gabriel's actions by saying that he's “doing this for his family”.
But hey, if he's doing this all for his family, surely Gabriel's redeeming traits come from his relationship with Adrien, right? Right?
As a Parent, Gabriel is Far From the Best
I've talked about this briefly before, but parenting in Miraculous Ladybug is written in such a black and white way, even by the standards of this show. Parents are portrayed in one of two ways. They're either amazing people who love and support their children unconditionally, or they're awful people who treat their own children like trash. And much like a lot of things in this show, there are times where the latter is treated like the former.
There are so many times where the narrative insists on making you see Gabriel as a troubled, but wellmeaning person who tries his best to be a good parent to Adrien, but it is far from the truth.
I'm not going to beat around the bush. Gabriel is a terrible parent. Like, he is awful at being a parent in so many ways, even before you find out he's Hawkmoth. In his first appearance, “The Bubbler”, he delegates getting Adrien a birthday present to Nathalie, his assistant. He literally can't be bothered to take time out of his schedule to get his own son a present for his birthday. And as the show goes on, he becomes more controlling and forbids Adrien from going out with his friends in other episodes (Captain Hardrock, Silencer). While this could be used to show Gabriel getting worse, it's never acknowledged in-universe, with Adrien continually defending his father essentially keeping him on house arrest.
“But IOTA!” You might say. “Gabriel has made efforts to bond with his son in some episodes.” While that might be true, most of those come right after his Akumas have almost gotten Adrien killed. He only hugged Adrien and made an attempt to learn more about him after Simon Says invaded their home, he only decided to watch that movie Emilie was in with Adrien after Gorizilla nearly dropped him off a building, and he only hugged Adrien again in public after he was turned into a gold statue by Style Queen.
In fact, let's talk about how Gabriel acts in the Queen Bee Trilogy. He actually decides to quit being Hawkmoth, but it's not because he realizes all the damage he's caused. Instead, he gave up because his “magnum opus”, a stronger than usual Akuma that only got the advantage on Ladybug ironically because of dumb luck, failed. Sure, he says he can't keep putting his son in danger, but he rarely ever acknowledges that he does so in the first place. When Riposte wanted to fight Adrien, Hawkmoth did nothing to stop her other than giving her a stern warning earlier on and nothing else. Where was this attitude earlier?
Hell, even then, he immediately goes back to being Hawkmoth as soon as he sees an opportunity, not even a day after his “mAgNuM oPuS” blew up in his face (because I guess Scarletmoth was just Plan B). If he made such a big deal about caring for his son, why didn't he try harder to spend time with him? Has he ever had doubts about what he's doing before? If Chloe didn't show up as Queen Bee, was he going to follow through on his promise and try to be a better father to Adrien instead of trying to get Ladybug and Cat Noir's Miraculous?
And yeah, the whole irony is that Gabriel is doing this for his family when he is unknowingly fighting his own son, which could lead to some interesting drama if done right. The idea of how Gabriel would react to his son being Cat Noir could really lead to some internal struggles for him to go through. But then we got “Cat Blanc”, which shows just how terrible of a character Gabriel is.
In an alternate timeline where he found out his son was Cat Noir, what does Gabriel do? Does he try to steal Adrien's Miraculous while he's sleeping? Does he reconsider his actions or realize he was endangering Adrien's life?
NOPE! He just decides to akumatize him all while emotionally tormenting him, before causing the end of the world.
This is honestly one of the most appalling things I've ever seen in any TV show, because it's basically an abusive father ordering his son to listen to him all while referencing his (kind of) dead mother to back up his point. And rather than use this to show how despicable Gabriel is, the episode decides to blame Marinette for this happening. Yes, according to the show, her present to Adrien caused several events to happen which caused Cat Blanc, but this logic makes no sense. It's like blaming the JFK assassination on the man who sold a gun to Lee Harvey Oswald, instead of, you know, Lee Harvey Oswald.
Not only was this episode yet another excuse to blame Marinette for something that wasn't her fault, it leads into the biggest problem I have with Gabriel as a character.
Sympathize with Gabriel? Surely, You Jest
After everything I've gone over regarding Gabriel as a character, after all the awful things I've talked about, are you really surprised that I don't feel bad for him at all?
Gabriel is just an awful character and a despicable human being, but the show just keeps wanting me to feel bad for him. It's just so hard to when you consider everything he's done has made him anything but sympathetic. I'm just saying, it's kind of hard to feel bad for someone who tries to start World War III with the only justification being “i'M dOiNg It FoR mY fAmIlY”, especially when he treats his family like crap.
Tumblr media
The writers go out of their way to show how horrible Gabriel is as Hawkmoth/Shadowmoth, but they think because they throw in a few moments where he looks conflicted, we'll immediately feel bad for him. What makes so many people interested in seeing Chloe become a better person is that they can tell she's the victim of a troubled upbringing, and know that because she's only a teenager, she still has room to grow as a person, represented by having more honest moments of vulnerability. Gabriel is a grown man who once caused the apocalypse because of how terrible of a parent he is, and has even fewer sympathetic moments than Chloe does. Which one of these two is supposedly irredeemable? The answer may surprise you.
But the frustrating thing is that this kind of villain could have worked. Instead of making him this mustache-twirling psychopath, show how much Gabriel regrets what he has to do, but keeps pushing onward despite all the lives he's risking if it means that he can save his wife. Instead of making Gabriel like Lex Luthor, make him like Mr. Freeze, who is basic a better written version of him.
youtube
But as it stands, there's a good reason why Gabriel gets little to no respect as a character in the Miraculous Ladybug fandom, as a villain, or as a father.
307 notes · View notes
persephoneyss · 3 years
Text
The Monster.
Tumblr media
Pairing: park jimin x f!reader.
Genre: Yandere, dark themes, anguish.
Summary: ❝You can be reborn like spring, but your nightmares will follow your footsteps at night.❞
Warnings: Yandere behavior, obsession, voyeurism, Jimin is a little delusional, implicit murder, death threats, a little violence, stalking, death of secondary characters, reader idolizes his mother, humiliation.
Number of words: 6000+
︙ Author's note: this is my first fic here, sorry if there are errors. My first language is not English and I don't speak it fluently either, so I used the translator. Sorry about that. I hope you enjoy it, I am open to criticism. Thanks!
(Puedes leer este y más fics aquí en español.)
Tumblr media
To block.
Your mind felt strangely familiar, like it was processing the same situation all over again. And then the same thing happened again.
Blocking.
You never noticed those little details, invisible to the eyes of others. Or maybe you took too seriously the message and advice that your mother always told you when you were afraid of being left alone in your room because of the obvious and silly repetitive story of the monster under the bed, you were crying looking for your mother's room in the middle of the night. You were looking for refuge in her arms. However, the only loving words she had for you were: "Ignore him and he will go away, darling."
It seemed very clever to you, you began to close your eyes ignoring your worst fears and in a short time you could do what most children could not at your age, sleep alone in the dark.
Your mother was wise, maybe that's why you never understood why your father left her overnight. She never commented on the subject and little by little it was forgotten in her daily lives. Your father never existed, you never saw him again.
In his small town no one was exceptionally well known, unless he had done something good or bad enough to be called a hero or, in the same way, a villain. You were barely seven years old when it happened, a family with a lot of money had chosen your town as a decent land, enough to build their luxurious house where their children who came from golden cradles would grow up. According to the gossip, they were foreigners coming to invade their town and rule it, when in reality the Parks never got more involved in politics than necessary.
They were just rich, spending money.
Young women from all over the world and even from other distant towns came every day to try to conquer the privileged children of the great mansion built finely and strategically in the middle of the main square. The young women were beautiful, many times you stood at the door of your house admiring their distinguished perfect faces and you wondered if the children of the Park family were really worth it so that young and beautiful women who had previously been rejected would come back again. in search of new opportunities.
Your mother sometimes stood next to you with a smile and released another phrase that ended up marking your style of thinking, her voice sounded so ethereal: "Money compensates for external beauty, plus the dignity that you lose to those who possess it, it will never have a price."
Your lost look made her smile beautifully badly, then that same sweet voice that taught you things that other women would see as irrelevant, she too moments later she orders you to come home to eat. You thought about it so much, your mother was beautiful, she could remarry if she wanted to. However, she never did, or at least until that day.
You were poor, you were never afraid to accept it. You noticed it almost immediately, when you saw other children playing with toys that seemed impossible that you will ever possess, your mother was friends with the one who was best friends with your father, a carpenter who seemed to be very kind. He always gave you toys that came out with small defects and he couldn't sell, he was a good man until he seemed to misinterpret the situations and her relationship with your mother, unexpectedly asking her to marry him. Obviously you had to stop seeing him after the rejection. However, you were stubborn like the woman who gave you life, almost every day after finishing school you walk two streets to her local.
"How is your mother? Any suitors who weren't rejected the first time?" You laughed, helping him finish his last job. You shook your head, Peter was always very nice and honestly funny, you still didn't understand how your mother could reject them, but you never got into adult affairs. You were just an eight-year-old girl.
"She still misses dad." You whisper trying to drive a nail into loose wood, before being interrupted by Peter.
You look curiously at his downcast face of hers, as if she was keeping something deep within himself. But he quickly changes his expression as well as the subject. "Very good girl, no more help for today" he says, removing the dangerous tools out of your reach, you let out a exhausted sigh wanting to help him. Deep down you felt guilty. "How are you doing in school? I heard that the Parks will start a new campaign to help more in the education of the children, maybe you can see someone from the family up close."
You move your head in distracting affirmation playing with a piece of wood, Peter watches you for a moment and then sighs. You really were special, and if I could tell what happened to your father, you would let go of that glow for sure.
The following days passed in the same way, there was only a radical change in your routine. Now they forced you to stay longer in school so that you could take art classes with the children of the Park family. You had heard many mothers talking to yours about how handsome they were, and since their daughters would undoubtedly have a chance with Jimin, who was the eldest son and of course the first-born heir, you thought for a long time about a tall man with more years than all those young women who hallucinated with the perfect millionaire husband. However, it was all an illusion. Jimin was not a man, he was a seventeen year old teenager.
Perhaps the young woman who did win him over would be very lucky to marry someone her own age and not a bitter old man who only had money. Jimin was everything, young, handsome and a millionaire, the best bet of any woman.
His first class was alongside his current teacher, introducing each child in the Park family. They were all very handsome, but Jimin seemed to shine brighter than the stars in the dark night. You wondered if his younger siblings would become jealous of him, it would be an interesting concept considering you had no siblings.
Your hands moved the clay very patiently, your classmates seemed to enjoy these classes and they were undoubtedly fun.
"What a beautiful flower ..." You smiled nodding, no one would ever think that someone like Jimin would be delighted with the common drawing of any girl. Her gaze traveled around your pure and innocent face, as if she couldn't get enough of you. She sat next to you, admiring how your hands continued to play with the dough creating new shapes and I certainly enjoyed every second.
She had never met someone who would attract so much attention from her, you were ethereal. Jimin was immediately drawn to you, your gaze clear as daylight and your soft features, maybe you were just a girl but you seemed to tempt his attention incredibly badly from him. He felt the strange sensation of making sure you were okay, safe, probably in his arms.
He followed you closely, always arriving at the same time. Her mother used to say that Jimin was very irresponsible, she never complied with the basic principles of being a Park: Discipline, order and punctuality. Jimin was different, his siblings may have fulfilled those three bases just to give what they wanted to their parents and receive more affection from him, but not him.
Jimin was obsessive. Impulsive, and he had self-control issues.
The biggest dangerous trait that his parents noticed since he was little, is that he suffered attacks of anger against anyone without caring about the consequences of this. More than three of his babysitters claimed that little Jimin had hit them, slapping and shoving them. But all of this was radically ignored by the Parks, who turned a deaf ear claiming that their son was simply too controlling, and in a way, he was. Jimin liked to have everything under control, at his disposal.
Jimin found himself fascinated with your little eyes looking at him without fear and, even though it was painful for him, without love. For you, he was nothing more than a stranger. He tried to change that, sitting next to you every day and talking to you a few times when he could get more than two sentences out of you. He liked art, I could tell by the way you focus too much on a small painting of an insignificant tree.
If you liked trees, Jimin could buy a forest for yourself.
You loved roses, he could plant thousands in every corner of town.
Or maybe, your obsession with the smell of vanilla. Jimin went wildly for the most expensive vanilla scented lotion, hoping for some praise from you and he really didn't fail.
No, when the next day he sat next to you and your gaze turned to him with a kind smile. "It smells great, Mr. Jimin." Your soft tone and your minimal compliment was enough to make his entire body shake, his hands began to sweat and his voice seemed to falter. It was amazing how you managed to make him so nervous, while he was still a child.
"Y-do you like it?" She asked even knowing the answer, your head bobbing in a quick nod and an even bigger smile adorns your features.
You put your painting aside for a moment to continue responding, Jimin feels elated to see that his plan worked. Now you're just looking at him, as it always should be. "It smells like vanilla, I like vanilla." You say honestly.
"I see, I also like vanilla." You seem shocked, Jimin increases the tension of him fearing that he said something wrong. He really wasn't lying, maybe vanilla wasn't something he used constantly but he didn't dislike it either, he was just disguising and embellishing a crude truth.
And before long, Jimin feels his life take an unexpected turn, people had started to notice his closeness to you. They called him an angel when in reality he was a devil, rumors and silly praise that he would be a good father were not lacking and the young women who came to his door every day to look for a date with him increased in an exorbitant way. You were oblivious to all that, clearly. However, you could not ignore all the looks that fell on you when you accompanied your mother to the market, as from one day to the next you became someone important just because you were the focus of attention of him Mr. Jimin, as you used to call him with respect. Peter also suffered the consequences of this, you had not stopped going to his store and the young women looking to conquer Jimin or at least get his attention began to follow you wanting to win your affection so that you will speak well of them with their desired man, no you were interested in what they could offer you but the biggest problem was that they did not like to receive a clear 'No.' as a reply.
They were insistent and often annoying. They followed you closely, even when you went to school or to visit Peter who now only went twice a week, you did not want to go out and have to face the pity that it gave you to see many beautiful young women begging for a vague love and that I was looking for more money arrangements than anything else. Also, not all of them had good intentions with you. Your mother made sure of your safety in the face of any incident, and with that came her last word, her strict order not to approach Park Jimin again until he found a wife.
The rest would be history.
He would surely forget you and start forming his own family, having his own children and likewise, looking for his own problems. Instead, that never happened. Jimin had discovered your plan, he was angry, he couldn't believe that you were ignoring his attempts to approach you in such a way. Your attitude was so pure but you were hurting her so much.
He was delusional, she knew he was. But he didn't want to stop. So, he did the only thing that would make you stay by his side.
You felt strangely calm, you had been to and from school with no one following closely in your footsteps. Until you noticed that the whole town seemed to look at you with superiority, with caution. Peter never stopped taking care of his store, however, that day it was closed. You gave little thought to that coincidence, walking home with slow steps. Deep down you were scared.
Maybe you thought you could feel it, in front of your house a crowd of people lay watching the most unexpected marriage request. Your mother was uncomfortable, you could tell by how her face was distorted, and how her hands seemed to shake for reasons not yet known to you. You watched in horror as Jimin knelt before her with a smile pulling a ring out of a small red box.
For a moment, you thought about your father. You felt strange, you always wanted to have a warm fatherly hug but it made you uncomfortable to imagine Jimin occupying that place, you did not want him, you did not love him as a daughter to his firstborn or as another similar relationship. He was a stranger.
Your body fell into the seat reserved especially for you, your eyes observed any place in the church trying to disperse your mind. Your little shoes brushed against each other, your hands rested on the wooden seat waiting for the wedding to end as soon as possible. You never wanted to oppose your thoughts to the idea of ​​your mother falling in love or getting married again, you really didn't care much as long as that person was good for her.
However, he was Park Jimin. You felt disgusted when her mother looked at you from afar with despicable eyes, just as anger consumed you when Mrs. Park tried to embarrass your mother in front of everyone. You didn't ask for this, nobody asked for it.
Maybe you spent too much time thinking around you to notice that Jimin was unhappy. A little upset. He had done what he had to do, chained you to him in some twisted way, marrying your mother and he felt happy, at first. I could see you walking through the church, you were wearing a little white dress to match your mother's and for a sinister moment I imagine that you were the one walking towards him to be named his wife. But he quickly came back to reality, you weren't his fiancée. You wouldn't be his wife.
Deep inside him, he knew how gross it was to feel like this.
Your mother's eyes reflected how unhappy she was, her gaze was uncertain. Jimin smiled seeing how you kicked the decorations that fell to the ground, you were completely oblivious to everything and more to the look of her that she followed you closely. Many called him a good father. Seeing nothing but his protective attitudes, but under the circumstances there were only hints of what might come next. You weren't allowed to leave Jimin's house, his father had left the mansion where his whole family used to live.
Mrs. Park could find no better excuse to leave than the sudden tantrum of her first-born son for marrying an older woman, a widow, and a daughter. This is a mockery and disgrace to her family's last name. Jimin just let her go, he wasn't even there the day her mother boarded the first train to her grandmother's house.
Your mother flatly refused to leave her house at first, she did not want to leave the little cabin that your father had built with his own effort so that both of them would live there and in the future raise their children, you always lived there and you did not want to leave either. But you never had a solid vote, your mother ended up agreeing from one day to the next, you did not know how Jimin managed to change his word so suddenly. Maybe there was never one reason, but you became all of them.
You were painfully present at all times. You observed how little by little, the wispy and wise glow that your mother possessed was getting lost between her empty eyes and her bent body, her head was never raised as she taught you it should be. She was a stranger, you felt scared in her presence. You remembered very well how her face seemed to light up when she saw you coming home from school and how she taught you something new every day.
"Mommy..." You spoke, your hands were still busy with the picture that you hadn't finished painting. But curiosity began to attack your mind.
Your mother came out of the kitchen with a little gray apron, she smiled when she saw you sitting on the floor. "Yes, honey?"
"Why do people get married?" Your gaze lifted from the sheet of paper, wincing at her glowing eyes.
"It depends, it's not necessarily for love. Maybe for money, comfort or ..." her voice trailed off, she still staring at you she leaned down to take your face in her hands. "Because they found someone, as cute as you!"
"Mommy ... I want to marry you!" Your mother began to laugh, your gaze traveled all over her face, joyful of hers and for a moment, you swore that you would hate anyone who dared to take away the great happiness of a genuine smile.
You finished your drawing, just in time because the front door echoed through the entire cabin. Your father appeared with a small drawer in his hands, your mother seemed to be illuminated with an angel when she saw him enter with a kind smile. Both were such for which. They were, more than lovers and husbands, lifelong best friends. Your life seemed to have something that many do not get even after death.
An outer and inner peace. It was perfect.
Almost so perfect, it wasn't true. White roses were always your favorites. However, you began to detest its soft light petals when it seemed that all the townspeople bought the same bouquet of white roses for the funeral of your, now, deceased mother. You took a seat next to her grave, ignoring everyone's greetings and goodbyes, who apparently forgot how her criticism of her increased even as the days, months and years of her wedding with Jimin passed.
You couldn't blame anyone. Or you just didn't want to.
Because the rope around his neck was not placed by them. And the multiple scars on his wrists weren't his marks. A small part of you felt helpless, angry and respectively, disgusted with yourself. Could you help her? Yes. No. Maybe if you had ... And he had stayed in the past.
The little white rose in your hand fell to the floor, everyone had left the room to go to the large buffet served at the reception. You froze, then with the same rage you began to step on the already dead flower at your feet, the petals of it were no more than a pure color, now they were disgusting and dirty. Jimin appeared minutes later, your gaze fell on his hand that was holding a black and a red rose.
"We should go, honey." He whispered as if afraid to scare you even though you were already looking directly at him. Your immobile figure instinctively ran into his arms, which greeted you with an incredibly loving warmth. The roses were placed on top of the coffin, a smile spread across your face when you saw the color red stand out against so much white, and for a second you came to compare the beauty of an outstanding color with your mother.
She stood out in a world where everyone wanted to paint themselves pure white.
Jimin was even more welcoming to you now. He pretended to sleep waiting for 11:30 to arrive so that he could hear your footsteps on the way to his room, you had developed a great amount of fear of loneliness. Jimin knew you always did that, but before it was with her instead of him. You would walk for several seconds looking in the dark for his room, which was next to hers, then I would always hear her voice singing for you, making you rest in his arms. For a long time, I want to be her. But now he was gone and I knew it was a matter of time before your steps stopped at his door.
She loved the closeness of your body to hers, how your hands clung to her nightshirt when you were cold or a horrible nightmare was projected into your dreams. Jimin horribly wishes he could see beyond your dreams, although that would be disrespectful to your privacy, he wouldn't mind breaking your trust too much if he could be sure that you would never walk away from him, even in your dreams.
He managed to chain your life to his, your scared look was the most beautiful thing I have seen before. I want to touch your little face and kiss your soft lips that tempted him every time the word "dad" came out of it.
Time was his greatest enemy.
Your presentation was no better, your hands were trembling again while your feet moved from here to there restlessly. Jimin just watched silently, but the distance between you and him was gigantic, he just wished that the damn bitch that was presented before him would shut up and leave his house. It was remarkable how you seemed angry, maybe it's jealousy, she has feelings for me. He thought sickly, a smile spreading across his face discreetly at his incoherent thoughts of him. The young woman sitting on the sofa in front of him smiled thinking that her talk had caused some pleasure in the young and widowed man.
Jimin admired her face, she was very cute, also she seemed to have good manipulation technique in people. She noticed it quickly when she walked through the door, her smile that seemed uncontrollable and genuine lit up his childlike face. He took a few seconds, he knew he shouldn't do it but he couldn't help comparing the woman to you. You were shorter, you were obviously younger and your gaze was more pure. Jimin was proud of your firm stance, knowing that in the two years since your mother's death you had developed a closer connection with him, and likewise, you were a beautifully perfect copy of him. Your hard gaze and your legs crossed with each other showed your firmness, and your silent opinion.
You wanted the fucking bitch sitting across from your stepdad outside your house.
You laughed at the very idea of ​​one day finding a really good replacement for your mother. You couldn't replace a rose with bad herbs. For you, as selfish as he was, Jimin was your father, and he was your mother's love from the day he married her. No one would replace his position.
It was all three of them, and a part of your mind conned that Jimin still wasn't over the love he had for her. Or he would have remarried long ago, when the young women stood in front of the door of his house asking for a date with him. In those moments you didn't care, Jimin was a stranger, but now he was your father and you were his only daughter. No one had the right to ruin their harmonious relationship, they were both alone and someday serious like him.
You will be successful, you will make a lot of money and you will be able to marry someone you love.
But for now, your gaze fell on the little worn and dirty shoes of the woman in front of you. A smile crossed your face, your gaze lifted surprising the woman. While Jimin waited with his arms crossed for your following action.
"Woman." Your voice seemed to cut her tranquility, her face lost total color of life and a small grimace of fear passed over her fragile face. "I can't allow shoes like that to step on the carpet in my house ..."
The woman looked at Jimin who seemed indifferent, distracted by the painting on the wall.
"I'm sorry miss" she whispered trying to remove her shoes, his hands seemed more clumsy than usual. Her face burned when your hand moved closer to hers to prevent any further movement.
"Go away." A tiny part of you felt sorry for his embarrassed face and flushed cheeks. But it quickly came to your mind that she thought she was good enough to believe she was your mother. When she couldn't even challenge a stupid girl who acted like a spoiled brat. "Get out of my house, or I'll have to ask you not to just take off your shoes."
"I-sorry, I'll go now-..." A sob interrupted her dialogue, her hands searched for the notebook she was carrying but she gave up making a quick bow to Jimin and running outside.
The garden was your favorite part of the big house, the walls constantly made you believe that you were going to be eaten by them. Every day you came out of your lair admiring the many roses of many different colors growing beautiful and healthy. Your school stage was about to begin and you did not want to neglect your garden, which was also a tribute to your late mother.
So you hired a gardener. You were seventeen years old and soon to be eighteen. To say that you managed to experience the best of all those years was ridiculous, and deep down inside you, you thought that all of that was possible because of all the things Jimin did for you.
You had a debt, which you planned to pay in the future. You thought about leaving and letting him have a quiet life from now on without having to run to solve your problems, even if you never asked him to.
Jimin had eyes watching your every move, he clearly remembers how he put security cameras throughout the house, observing how you slept, what you did in the comfort of your room and privacy. Even when you walked into the shower and your hands ran over your body covered in water. Sometimes he felt guilty, for how he seemed to enjoy those moments that seemed so short.
However, it was repeated that as long as you were safe.
Breaking your trust wasn't that important.
Your eighteenth birthday was moderately quiet, Jimin was not used to throwing parties, and honestly, you never asked for one. So you just stood at the door of your house receiving expensive and cheap gifts from people who when they gave you the gift had a forced smile that told you many things. Most were familiar faces, of women who had previously sought a date with your father, obviously being rejected.
The little birthday cake looked so monotonous, the candles were the only thing you could stand out for. You were never aware that you had started to be privileged and extremely ambitious since Jimin proposed to your mother and forced her to marry him, pointing a gun at her pathetic silly little head. You had it all, and in your previous years maybe you managed to get excited about the new toys and accessories that were brought to you from other countries, you had everything that others did not, and a strange epiphany collapsed over you.
It was you, it was déjà vu. You were them, and those who were before, were now you.
You had all of them, and they didn't. Now, by your side, they were all poor. Jimin showered you with gifts, causing you to gradually lose interest in money. You remember your thoughts when it all started and likewise, you still remember the woman with the dirty shoes. You will be successful, you will make a lot of money. It was what you thought in the future for yourself, but now that was it, in a nutshell. Completely boring. You stayed for a moment thinking about them under the watchful eye of your stepfather who tried not to smile when you saw you, you were an adult now and he could finally take you as his own. They would be husband and wife, as it should have been from the beginning of its history.
And you will be able to marry someone you love. You still had only one option left, you blew out the candles with a single sigh causing Jimin to clap his hands and approach you to hug you fondly. The maids behind you only blushed when his boss started showing all of his affection. They weren't used to seeing him so often, Jimin had a firm and tough stance with everyone but he seemed to become as soft as clay in your presence. You came to mold Jimin in your favor, making him a cold person in front of his own demons and then, you left yours.
"I want marriage proposals, father." A gasp came from the mouths of the maids who just immediately fell silent. Lowering their head as they were taught. "I am ready to get married."
Jimin hummed still keeping his arms around you, your body was trapped in theirs. Your skin burned when his fingers squeezed your skin, leaving permanent marks. There was no reaction from you, you were used to this kind of unexpected treatment and it just didn't hurt.
"Get married?" His arms pulled away from you in disgust, there was no other reaction either. Jimin taught you not to object unless you knew you should. Stay calm and you will win. "And can you tell who would want to marry you? Useless little girl."
"Useless?" Your low voice seemed to make him happy for a moment.
Quickly his hands took the utensils to cut the cake, with a soft and sweet voice he continued: "Honey, men do not look for a girl with a lot of money like you. They look for someone to tame, and you, you could easily crush everyone with a wave of your hands."
A piece of the cake perfectly positioned on the plate was placed in front of you, a sob escaping your lips. You were really pathetic, eh? You clearly wanted to live something that has been claimed many times. You weren't going to get married, not without having it all like Jimin said. Then, you would lose everything and go back up to crush the others with greater pleasure.
"Aren't you going to eat? It's your cum-..."
"I will go to a neighboring town, I will finish my studies there."
Jimin looked down at his plate, ignoring how you got up from the table and put your cake aside. Then, your sweet voice finished destroying his self control that he thought he mastered long ago.
"I never liked that cake taste."
And it was the end.
You went back to the start again. You were planning to leave tonight, your bags were ready. Everything you needed was never in that house, it was never him. They were those that never existed in your present continued.
Your shoes did not seem to contrast with the dirt on the town's floor, you were also aware that those would end up in the trash. You didn't care, they were just shoes Jimin bought for your birthday, insignificant.
People were observant, and often foul-mouthed. It was no different than they spoke far from you or close to you, yet their mouths moved in a fussy way exaggerating reactions and creating new lies.
"_____...?" Your posture was decreasing, you no longer had to pretend. A smile covered your face, framing many emotions in one. "Come in please, it's your house."
Peter stepped aside, leaving room for you to enter. Your hands trembled but this time from cold, you still did not get over the harsh winter that suddenly passed. You took your shoes off quickly, briefly forgetting that this was no longer your home. You had sold the little cabin at a minimal price, and you were even happier when it was Peter who chose that place as his future home to live with his wife and his future child. Now he had two more. The little children ran in the tiny room playing with each other, a feeling of nostalgia invaded you when you saw them. You used to do the same before, together with your parents.
Those moments.
"Glad to see you around here, daughter." Peter hadn't changed, he was still the same kind and understanding person as ever. The opposite of you, of course. "Do you want to have tea? I heard on the streets that you would go to study far from here."
"Coffee, please." You responded still reluctant to talk about your departure.
Peter just laughed at your exaggerated denial, nodding and leading into the kitchen. You took a seat at the small table looking around. "You didn't change the decoration."
"Uh? ...." He seemed surprised by your observation, but he quickly smiled. "No. Actually, I think I liked it from the beginning how your ... er ... your mother decorated it. Besides, my wife loved it too. For her, it's beautiful as spring."
"Spring?" You ask, avoiding looking at it. You look down looking for some reason not to feel sad, in a way, you had compared your mother to spring as well. However, Jimin said that you were his. You never liked being called a light, because you always tried to be in your mother's shadow. And you liked it. "She believed that she is very wise, my mother was like spring."
"Thanks." A voice whispered from behind, your gaze fell on her and her face very much like your mother's. But they were obviously completely different. "I never doubted that you were just as wise. Spring represents the new beginning, a new beginning. Did you manage to find yours?"
Peter tried to intervene, clearly noticing the way his wife was trying to make you talk about your life after your mother died.
"I did. That's why I'm leaving here tonight."
"I'm glad we all need to be born again at some point."
You affirm with a small movement of the head, concentrating your gaze on the coffee cup in your hands. The smoke fell directly on your face hiding your grimace of disgust. Nobody deserves to talk about her like that yet.
"Ok, honey." Peter began by sitting across from you, with a cup of green tea and a serene expression. "Are you planning to go alone or with someone? I heard that travel today is very dangerous."
"Actually, I am accompanied by an acquaintance. His name is Jungkook, he also planned to leave and started working for me as a gardener to get the necessary money. We became good friends." You spoke remembering the adorable smile of the young man, he used to accompany you everywhere you went as if his job was to protect you. At first it was cute, but then it was annoying. Even after all that, you preferred to travel with him rather than alone.
"Oh that's very nice. I'm glad you managed to meet your goals. Good luck."
Your goals?
"Thanks, Peter."
His gaze lingered on your face for a moment, then he seemed to remember something very important. She gave you a smile before getting up to leave the kitchen.
"I have something for you, you are old enough to know this."
It was an envelope. Common and ordinary, but its envelope was beginning to deteriorate, showing that it was an old and very reserved letter.
You questioned your decision but took it, not wanting to read it in front of anyone even more when you read who wrote the letter.
You sat on the small wall, the trees and the cool breeze boosted your adrenaline. Small pieces of paper fell to the ground. So, you weren't thinking correctly at those times.
"I only married a man that I loved in all my life, I was happy. I had a daughter. I lived years of solitude and then, I was chained to an empty love."
"I know what you're reading this now. You're weak, darling. Maybe that's what made us mother and daughter. Because from the beginning I never had the courage to tell you that Jimin put a ring on my finger and a gun to my head. Or maybe, I was weak when I didn't get in the way of his errand, I should have told him that I hated him and that he could put a bullet in my head before giving it to my daughter. And maybe, I should have told everyone who passed by me that He was the same one who murdered my husband, he never left. I made you believe that. You never asked. "
"I saw you so happy today, you were running between the garden and the wedding. I could see his gaze following your hurried steps, I was almost completely sure that he was trying to get closer to you at all times. I told the woman next to me, But she shut me up saying that I can't be jealous of a father and daughter relationship. You weren't her daughter. She also ordered me to let them create a closer relationship, because I already had Park Jimin's heart in my hands. Liars."
"I always loved your curious voice. You used to ask me everything, and why everything was like that. But lately, I don't know what to answer. Why am I crying? Why is there a dark stain under my eyes? Why is there blood in the bathroom? Why did I never ask for help? I see you worry and you don't let me give you affection, because you prefer to give it to me. I also see how I start to bother him, I am a hindrance. Now I understand, I knew it but I never wanted to accept that it happened. He was everywhere, and likewise, I was never part of the plan."
"There were only two things I didn't tell you. I love you and my last piece of advice. Honey, lock it up and fly to the start, whenever you feel lost. A fresh start and never forget spring."
You stifled a sob. Covering up your pain. You had not noticed that the night had covered the sky, a dark blue blanket arrived. It took you a long time to assimilate that all the fragments were torn papers, and it was not a letter. It was an envelope filled with, apparently, incomplete sheets torn from a notebook. There was a fragment that was not part of the leaves, but rather was written later.
"Lost parts of a sad widow's diary.
Peter."
They were from your mother's diary. So where was the rest? What actually happened? A message came to your phone, you read it quickly still drying your tears.
JUNGKOOK:
Our trip is in an hour, I hope you said goodbye to everyone.
Received at 7:05 p.m.
I still do not:(
Received at 7:06 p.m.
Along with both messages was an attached picture, a photo of him and his grandmother. Jungkook talked a lot about her, and hers, her brothers. You smile, still wiping the tears from your face.
Your feet moved, the leaves in your hands seemed too heavy. And yet it was something you needed to do.
"Are you at home." His monotonous voice invaded you, he was busy reading a book that rested in his hand. The maid came over leaving a cup of coffee beside him, greeting your presence politely. "I have some things to discuss with you, darling."
"Me too, Jimin." It was the first time you had said his name without due respect, he seemed surprised for a moment. But his expression changed to one of happiness, as if he had been waiting for it. "I couldn't say goodbye, I'm leaving today. I think you already know that, though."
"Actually, no. But it's nice to hear it from you."
"I ..." Your voice dried in your throat, a giant doubt fell over you. You didn't want to leave without telling him how much you hated everything about him. His attention, his affection, his smile, his gaze, his voice. Everything about him was disgustingly charming. "I think I'll go get my bags."
Jimin nodded, ignoring your presence. Still distracted with reading him.
"Before you go, can you give me that back, darling?" Your gaze followed where he pointed his finger. Your hand. The leaves were still there.
"It's something of mine-..."
"Oh I don't think so. It really is very easy to threaten someone, just suffice to say that you can put a bullet in their head to make them your obedient little puppets."
"I do not understand your..."
"Me? It was obviously me. I'm surprised you thought your mother would be smart enough to leave a confession letter to her ex-lovers, days before her death. You really had a lot of credit for her." His chatter was accompanied by a laugh. You were paralyzed, shaking in your useless state of shock. "But I will not say that I did not plan, I hoped that you would never have the courage to try to leave my side. And even if that were the case, I knew that you would say goodbye to the only person who reminded you of her. Peter, she has a family. lovely."
Nor did he expect you to have the courage to cheat on him with another man. Oh, the gardener. Poor Jungkook, his body now rested leaving behind your favorite flowers. Jimin bit his lip, another mocking smile peeking out with intensity remembering the cutthroat figure of the innocent but guilty young man.
You were his...
"How can you be so cruel?" The doubt in you seemed to want to keep growing, passing second by second through your head. You weren't sure you could understand that everything that happened in front of you was actually planned by the same person who swore never to leave you alone. The same man who disguised himself as a sheep so he could eat you like a wolf. "Did you kill my mother ?!" Jimin seemed surprised by your desperate tone, he did not expect to be able to unbalance your state so easily.
It was lovely. Certainly.
"No sweetie." He murmured closing the book in his hands, setting it on the table next to the steaming cup of American coffee. "But it would have been exquisite to be the reason for his pain. Unfortunately, it was your father who won that title."
"Where did you get this from? I know she wrote it, and I also know that she would never give it to you knowing what a monster you are." Tears were running down your cheeks like water, you knew you were a mess but Jimin seemed to look at you like you were a perfect work of art.
"I found it." He spoke casually, getting up from his seat. Walking slowly towards your trembling figure. "It was a coincidence, I like casual things. It was a coincidence that you studied at that school, that your mother was a widow, that your father died. That he will make me fall in love with you."
What is your goal now?
"I love you darling."
Escape from the monster.
202 notes · View notes
aspoonofsugar · 3 years
Text
Emerald + Mercury = Cinder
BEGINNING OF THE END = MIDNIGHT
The episodes Beginning of the End and Midnight can be seen as complementary.
Both share a similar structure with the first part telling Cinder’s story and the second part showing how past events are influencing the present. At the same time, they show the links among Cinder, Emerald and Mercury and explore their changing dynamic.
In Beginning of the End it is shown how they came together and we reach the climax of their cooperation. The Fall of Beacon is when the trio is at its strongest. It is only because of their coordination and teamwork that the plan succeeds. In Midnight instead we are shown the beginning of their separation.
For different reasons (fears and wishes) both Mercury and Emerald are about to leave Cinder. Mercury already has and it is probable Emerald will soon.
The two episodes also give us two opposite and complementary visions of Cinder.
In Beginning of the End, we have the way Cinder wants to appear:
Cinder: (stepping forward slowly, glass anklet shifting with her footsteps) I've already told you. And I don't like repeating myself.
Salem: I would like to think I have shown a great deal of patience over my many years walking Remnant. But I do hate repeating myself.
Mercury: Is this how you treat a patient? (Emerald reaches over and twists the screwdriver in his leg, causing him to wince) Ah, too tight!
Cinder: Enough. Our Mercury put on a wonderful show. He was quite brave.
Salem: Do you find such malignance necessary?
Watts: I apologize, ma'am. I'm not particularly fond of failure.
Salem: Then I see no reason for your cruelty towards young Cinder. She's become our Fall Maiden, destroyed Beacon Tower, and most importantly, killed dear Ozpin. So I'm curious, to what failures are you referring?
In Midnight we see who she really is. Moreover, it becomes more and more clear that her imitation of Salem is different from the original:
Salem: I will tell you when and where you are needed.
Cinder: Both of you, get out. I’ll let you know when you’re needed next.
Mercury: Yeah about that, Salem’s got other plans for me. I’m not gonna be taking orders from you anymore.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Why is this being shown through her interactions with Emerald and Mercury? Why are they important for Cinder’s character?
First of all, Mercury and Emerald are Cinder’s kids, at least narratively speaking:
Tumblr media
Roman: Oh, look! She sent the kids again! This is turning out just like the divorce!
Roman calls them so when they first appear and later on several characters refer to them as kids in relation to Cinder.
Raven (about Emerald and Mercury): Two children you've tricked into following you.
Tyrian: (chuckles as he slowly walks toward Emerald) Careful, little girl. Cinder isn't here to protect you anymore.
Tyrian (mocking Mercury): Oh yes, the world is mean, and I'm a big, bad man now just like the others.
Salem (to Emerald): Speak, child.
In short, they are meant to be the last link in a chain of abuse that starts with Salem, goes on with Cinder and finally arrives to them.
At the same time, as the title says Mercury + Emerald = Cinder because they are nothing more than parts of Cinder herself, both in their backgrounds and in their personalities.
CINDER + “HUNGER” = EMERALD
Cinder: Follow me, and you'll never be hungry again.
Cinder: It's... an emptiness. It burns. Like hunger. I like it.
In Beginning of the End Emerald and Cinder are shown to share a hunger motif.
Emerald is presented as a street rat who survives through stealing. She is poor and starved, so she accepts Cinder’s offer to be taken care of and to be given food. That said, it is clear that other than food what Emerald is truly starving for is love:
Emerald: I just... (sighs) Cinder was the only family I ever had. She cared about me, taught me things...
I'm the one Who rose out of filth and was loved by no-one
Similarly, Cinder too is shown to be hungry. More specifically, she is hungry for power:
Cinder: I want to be powerful.
It is meaningful that in the episode where Cinder tells Emerald she won’t have to starve anymore, she herself is starving. This contradiction conveys the tragedy of Cinder’s character aka a traumatized girl taking in a kid similar to her and becoming like her past parental figures.
As a matter of fact Emerald and Cinder’s first meeting has parallels with Cinder meeting both Madame and Rhodes.
When Cinder meets Madame she asks for food, but is negated it:
Tumblr media
And she is later shown to have survived through leftovers.
In contrast, food is the first thing Cinder offers Emerald, who she recognizes as a girl who has survived in poverty, like her.
In their first meeting, Cinder also treats Emerald pretty much like Rhodes treated her. Both discover a young girl, who has just committed a theft and confront her. However, instead of punishing the girl, they both offer to be the girl’s mentor and become her idol.
As a matter of fact both Cinder and Emerald are shown to idolize their saviors to the point that both girls try to look like them by changing their hair/clothes:
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
So, it would superficially seem that Cinder is acting like Rhodes and in the opposite way of Madame. However, the reality is far more complex. Deep down, Cinder is acting like her adoptive mother because she is targeting a girl and thinking about how she can weaponize her. At the same time, there is a key difference between her behaviour and Rhodes’s. Rhodes had Cinder give the sword back, while Cinder never stopped Emerald from stealing. If anything, she encouraged her criminal activities changing her from a thief to a terrorist. In other words, Cinder radicalized Emerald.
This is once again linked to the motif of hunger both girls share:
Cinder: You Atlas elites are all the same! You think hoarding power means you'll have it forever, but it just makes the rest of us hungrier.
Cinder’s trauma is rooted in the unfairness of the world. She was made to starve simply because she was born in the wrong situation and society completely failed her.
What is more, when Rhodes refuses Cinder as well, she too refuses his vision of the world. Rhodes, pretty much like the Prince of the original fairy-tale, offers Cinder a way to social-climb. In the fairy-tale, Cinderella marries the prince and so becomes a princess in the end. Here, Rhodes is telling Cinder she can reach her own castle. Cinder can escape her misery and reach Atlas. However, this is seen as a lie by Cinder the moment he attacks her.
So, Cinder giving food to an orphan like her and trying to destroy the current order are both coherent with the idea that the world is unjust and needs to be changed. However, Cinder is using the same problems she criticizes to her advantage. What is more, she is exasperating them in order to fulfill her personal agenda, which is only about herself and her self-image.
Let’s see now, what do our two young thieves steal? What are they “hungry” for?
a) Emerald steals a ring:
Salesman: A beautiful ring... for a beautiful woman.
Interestingly, the ring itself might be a reference to the original story of Aladdin, which is apparently Emerald’s allusion.
In the original story Aladdin meets two jinns. The first one is in a ring and Aladdin uses it to save himself and to escape with the magic lamp, where a stronger jinn is. So it makes sense for Emerald to steal a ring (something she wishes) just to meet a woman that promises her she can have more (her personal jinn aka someone that can realize Emerald’s dreams).
Why does Emerald steal the ring?
It is possible she just wants to sell it in order to buy some food, but I like the idea that she steals it also because she wants some beauty (”a beautiful ring for a beautiful woman”) in the harsh and horrible world she lives in (“filth”).
b) Cinder steals a sword:
Tumblr media
Like in Emerald’s case, the object of Cinder’s theft can be seen as part of her fairy-tale’s allusion.
As a matter of fact, in Cinder’s adaptation of Cinderella the swords are nothing, but her glass slippers.
This is made clear later on when Rhodes (both the Prince and the Fairy Godmother) gives Cinder the first sword. It is meant to be a prize on his part. He is showing Cinder she does not need to steal it anymore because she has gained it. Moreover,  weapons are said to be extensions of a person by Ruby, so it makes sense that the slipper of the original Cinderella becomes a sword in this version. It fits the personality of our Cinder, a fiery young girl, who wants to become a huntress.
Finally, since Cinder’s story uses both inversion and deconstruction when adapting the fairy-tale, it is interesting that in the end the Prince refuses to give Cinder the other sword (slipper) and Cinder takes it by force:
Tumblr media
In this way, Cinder goes back to stealing, which was what Rhodes had originally tried to avoid.
Why does Cinder steal the sword in the first place?
She steals something to defend herself with and to hurt her tormentors. Violence is rooted in Cinder’s first theft.
In short, Emerald wants something beautiful, while Cinder wants something powerful.
This difference is coherent with their respective semblances since Emerald creates illusions, while Cinder is able to overheat objects, so that she can create explosions and manipulate their shape. Both powers are representative of their user’s flaw and coping mechanism.
Emerald is a person who has reacted to her traumatic life by chasing illusory dreams of warmth and love. She tricks others and is tricked because she refuses to dispel her self-delusions.
Cinder is instead a person, who has been molded through violence just like the glass statues in the hotel. She is forced to endure until she can’t take it anymore and she explodes:
Tumblr media
She herself is the Glass Unicorn, which shatters like Cinder’s innocence when too much pressure is added. Not only that, but Cinder too has started molding others to her will. She has been grooming both Emerald and Mercury for her own ego. This is why the name Scorching Caress fits her so well. It is because behind every act of care it is hidden an act of manipulation. And this happens because Cinder too has been treated utilitaristically and the only kind of love she experienced (Rhodes’s) was a “weak” love Cinder ended up perceiving as fake.
In short, Emerald and Cinder have different coping mechanisms and aim for different things. However, this does not mean that one is better or worse than the other. Their main difference is that right now Emerald is more in touch with her own needs and wishes. Ironically, the delusional girl has never lost sight of what she truly wants.
Emerald wants a family. She has been looking for it in the wrong places and she has been pursuing it in the wrong ways. However, Emerald has never forgotten what she is truly after and she is starting to realize she won’t have it, until she stays on Salem’s side:
Salem: It's important not to lose sight of what drives us: Love, justice, reverence... but the moment you put your desires before my own... they will be lost to you. This isn't a threat, this is simply the truth. The path to your desires is only found... through me.
Tyrian: Shh, shh, shh, shh, shh. I want to tell you both a little secret. Your question is all wrong. (laughs)
Emerald: What?
Tyrian: "What do you want from this?" Children, please, if you're not loving what you're doing, then you're in the wrong field.
Salem promises to fulfill Emerald’s wishes, but Tyrian has already told her that pursuing a wish while working for Salem is useless. Emerald is starting to realize it and this is why she will probably leave.
Cinder has instead forgotten what she originally wanted:
Cinder: Like you? You can do whatever you want, go wherever you want.
Cinder’s original wish was to be free and also to be loved, like Emerald:
You're no good I hope you know That your life is of no use And the truth is that No one's ever loved you
However, her being failed by the adults has twisted her wish into a desire for power.
This difference is well conveyed by Cinder and Emerald’s respective line in Beginning of the End:
Cinder: Follow me, and you'll never be hungry again.
Emerald: Thank you...
Cinder: The Huntsman severed the connection before it was complete. (pause) Yes. It's... an emptiness. It burns. Like hunger. I like it. (pause) Yes. I will claim what is ours. (pause) Thank you.
Emerald thanks Cinder because she won’t have to be hungry anymore, while Cinder thanks Salem because she is able to feel a hunger she likes.
This fits well with Cinder’s last words to the Madame:
Tumblr media
Cinder: You’re right. Without you I am nothing. But because of you, I am everything.
Emerald does not want to be hungry, while Cinder has been tricked into thinking that being hungry is the only way she can become not even “everything”, but just “something”.
CINDER + “EVERYTHING” = MERCURY
Cinder: Because of you, I am everything.
Mercury: So I got strong, but I never got it back! I've had to work harder than anyone to get where I am.
Cinder’s way of thinking is very similar to Mercury’s. Not only have they both endured their parents’ violence, but they have tried to give this violence meaning. It is because of Madame that Cinder has become “everything” and it is because of Marcus that Mercury has become “strong”. They must believe that it was not all for nothing and that the pain they felt made them stronger instead of weaker.
This is why Cinder thinks that deep down her “hunger” is good. It is because it drives her, but she ignores that it blinds her too.
This is why Mercury keeps going back to his father:
Mercury: Bad hair, used a scythe, and smelled like my dad after a long day. It was him.
Mercury: My dad always said... "if you need to know a city, ask the rats."
He mentions Marcus here and there and uses his teachings to solve problems. That is because those teachings must have some value, right? If they don’t, then Mercury’s life means nothing.
The nature of Cinder and Mercury’s foiling is clear in their first meeting:
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Like in Emerald’s case, Cinder finding Mercury calls back a moment of her past.
In particular, it parallels the murder of her adoptive family and Rhodes discovering it. Mercury, just like young Cinder, has just killed an abusive parent and is confronted by a person after the fact.
Once again, Cinder seems to act differently from the adults that let her down. Rhodes was horrified and attacked her, while Cinder praises Mercury and has him join her group.
However, she is deep down acting as Rhodes did. As a matter of fact what truly hurt Cinder about Rhodes’s reaction is that he convinced her that she is irredeemable.
The whole scene plays with the Cinderella’s allusion and inverts it:
Tumblr media
The clock strikes midnight and just like in the fairy-tale, the magic is over. In Cinderella, the protagonist goes back to her true self and runs away not to be seen. However, in the end, the prince recognizes her through her slipper (a symbol of her innate beauty and kindness) and marries her despite her humble condition.
In Cinder’s story, midnight is when she reveals a part of herself to Rhodes. She shows all the anger and violence she has been repressing. Cinder is not a “good victim” like the Cinderella of the fairy-tale and Rhodes can’t accept it. Not only that, but he negates Cinder’s dream to be free:
Rhodes: You can run, but you’re going to be running for the rest of your life.
Cinder: I won’t have to run now.
Rhodes: That’s all you’ll ever do.
This shatters Cinder’s hopes and self-perception. She internalizes that she will have to live in opposition to society because she is somehow “a bad person”. She is not a huntress (a princess), but a nobody who’ll have to use violence to survive. And she starts doing it immediately. As the song that starts playing implies, she has been awaken from the “fragile lies in bones”. However, this “truth has broken her soul in two”. This wound is still there and it has influenced, among other things, her reaction to Mercury.
When Cinder meets Mercury, she associates him to his father three times:
Cinder:  And you're his son. We saw your fight from the treeline. He's taught you well.
Mercury: Guess so.
Cinder: What's your name?
Mercury: Mercury.
Cinder: Mercury... Tell me, are you anything like your father?
In this way, she strengthens the connection Mercury tried to cut by killing Marcus. She is indirectly convincing him that he can’t be different from his father:
Tyrian: All you ever learned was pain and violence, and now you're too afraid to leave it. Such a tragedy.
Tyrian spells it out clearly for both Mercury and the audience. The only reason Mercury joined Cinder and is now working for Salem is that he is scared. Not only is he scared for his own survival, but he is scared about failing to be anything else than what his father taught him.
Cinder is deep down scared too by Salem and her group:
Tumblr media
However, she too, like Mercury, has given up on being anything different than a criminal. She puts up a strong demeanor, but is actually really frail. She is like glass that has been bended through heat (violence) and can easily shatter.
Both Mercury and Cinder are two violent victims. This duality is kind of conveyed also through their names and colors.
“Cinder” is something that has only partially burnt. They tried to reduce her to ashes, but failed and a part of Cinder is still burning. This is why her main colors are black and red. She is black because she was burnt. She is red because she can burn. She was both hurt and has hurted others.
Similarly, “mercury” is a silver/gray metal and this is Mercury’s main color. This choice gains a possible deeper meaning when one considers that his aura is white and that his surname is Black. His aura can be seen as Mercury’s nature, while the surname “Black” is a symbol of the “nurture” he received. Mixing these two factors made so that Mercury turned out like he is (a gray character).
So, Cinder and Mercury have been shaped by their abuse and this is clearly visible on their bodies as well:
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Cinder keeps the scar on her neck hidden, while Mercury has chosen to weaponize his missing legs.
It is telling that Mercury made of his own mechanical legs his weapon and that he mostly uses kicks to fight. It is another detail that shows how he is reducing both himself and his trauma to weapons he can use.
Cinder too shows how frail her sense of self is through weapons. It is not by chance that her current weapons are made of glass. In her backstory her swords were a symbol of her true self and of who she could become. Right now, they are nothing, but glass imitations of that ideal.
In short, Cinder and Mercury are both victims and murderers and they needed to have both sides of themselves accepted by their mentors.
However, Rhodes and Cinder failed to do so. They both refused the victimhood of the child in front of them, but they did so in opposite ways.
On one hand Rhodes refused Cinder’s violence and its reasons. He ignored his feelings of affection for the girl and steeled himself, so that he could fight her.
On the other hand Cinder gladly accepted Mercury’s violence and groomed him (Scorching caress), so that he would completely embrace it too.
The difference between Rhodes and Cinder lies in them having different reactions to the violence perpetrated by a child. However, they both fail to address the child’s pain. Rhodes does so because his vision is too black and white. Cinder does so because she is not even able to address her own pain.
However, both Cinder and Mercury need to address their own victimhood. Still, they refuse to do so because it would mean to accept their vulnerability. It is easier to convince themselves that they are the strong and violent ones. They are the ones others are scared of:
Mercury: We're the guys you should be afraid of.
But it is precisely because of this refusal that they are currently caught in dynamics similar to the ones they escaped:
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Salem and Tyrian are nothing, but more dangerous versions of Madame and Marcus.
Salem treats Cinder as a pawn, rather than a person. She strips her of her personhood and agency and punishes her violently.
Tyrian is a killer, who enjoys his job like Marcus. He keeps invading Mercury’s personal space and threathens him. Moreover, his own semblance is similar to Marcus’s. It might not steal people’s semblances, but it still messes with their auras (with their very souls).
Cinder and Mercury struggle to recognize their own situations because to do so they must accept they are still stuck in their horrible childhoods:
Mercury: You may not like it here without Cinder, but I think I'm right where I'm supposed to be!
Cinder: I don’t serve anyone. And you wouldn’t either, if you were built that way.
However, this refusal is confusing them about what their true needs and wishes are:
Cinder: I want to be strong. I want to be feared. I want to be powerful.
Mercury: So what's in it for me?
In Beginning of the End both characters receive a line where they express some kind of wish.
As stated above, Cinder’s wish is not her original one, but a twisted version because she thinks she can’t reach her true desire.
When it comes to Mercury, he is not even sure of what he really wants. This is made clear even later on:
Emerald: I mean, there has to be something you want from this, right?
Mercury: Salem's promised us everything. We win this thing for her, we'll be top dogs in her new world. What more do you want?
He says Salem will give him all he wants, but he still fails to answer Emerald’s question. What is it that he wants?
He wants “everything” Cinder can offer him and later on “everything” Salem offers him. However, this is just another way to say he’ll take anything he is given, be it even something as basic as survival:
Mercury: Look, even if what he said was true, we can’t stop Salem. You told me yourself, Hazel tried. He failed and he got in line. Big guy’s not going to pick fights he can’t win, and neither should we.
This is because Mercury is so scared and hurt he can’t even start to think about what he wants.
Similarly, he goes back to a fatalistic vision of the world:
Mercury: Just made sense.
Emerald: It made sense?
Mercury: All my life, my father trained me to be a killer, an assassin like him. And then moments after I killed him, you two showed up looking for someone with my exact skills. Just felt like it was meant to be.
Let’s highlight that Cinder does the same:
Pyrrha: Do you believe in destiny?
Cinder: Yes.
Cinder: You know, Neo, someone once asked me if I believed in destiny. And I'm happy to say I still do.
Both Mercury and Cinder have convinced themselves that there is a “destiny” written for them and that they must play that role (the role of an assassin, the role of the Maiden). However, in this way they are just chaining themselves and accepting to Do As They Are Told by adults and mentor figures, who do not really care about them.
EMERALD + MERCURY = SOUL + BODY
I'm the one That was born in a nightmare a murderer's son Got no gun But I gleam like a blade and I'm harder than iron I'm the one Who rose out of filth and was loved by no-one Delusion I'll steal til your blind and defeat you from inside your mind
I'm the one That was ripped from the earth and exposed to the sun Overrun By the hate and the beatings defiled by a father I'm the one I'll race with your eyes and you'll never outrun Illusions Will conquer your mind and will make you fulfill my design
Mercury and Emerald’s song says several things about them.
First of all, it conveys the idea of two kids that feel let down by the world and have decided to retaliate. They mock their opponents and praise their respective abilities. However, it is clear from the verses above that it is just a mask to hide their pain.
This fits with them appearing for the first time in Best Day Ever where Ozpin says this:
Ozpin: And they will be, but right now they're still children. So why not let them play the part? After all, it isn't a role they'll have forever.
Differently from out protagonists (at the time), Emerald and Mercury are not playing the part of kids, but they are acting as big bad thugs to prove themselves to the people around them.
Secondly, the song is useful to explore Emerald and Mercury’s foiling.
a)
I'm the one Who rose out of filth and was loved by no-one Delusion I'll steal til your blind and defeat you from inside your mind
I'm the one That was ripped from the earth and exposed to the sun Overrun By the hate and the beatings defiled by a father
Emerald was never given love, while Mercury was given hate:
Mercury: I'm sorry you didn't have a mommy that loved you, but I had a father who hated me!
This difference is at the root of their different personalities.
On one hand Emerald attaches herself to the care Cinder gives her and takes it as the most love she’ll ever receive.
On the other hand Mercury is just content with not receiving hate and violence from the people around him.
Emerald is more open about her connections with others, while Mercury is more disillusioned. She is strongly driven by them, while Mercury is too scared to fully embrace them.
Emerald has clear wishes, but she is deluding herself about them. Mercury has fears that do not let him realize what he wants.
This difference stems from the different nature of their traumas. Who was never given anything accepts whatever they are offered, while who received pain thinks even nothing is better than more pain.
Still, we are currently seeing an inversion of this dynamic. Emerald’s wishes and their not overlapping with reality are making her doubtful. Mercury’s fear and survival instinct are making him refuse the truth:
Mercury: And all of this is pointless, anyway. Salem’s not ending the world.
In the end, facing one’s own feelings, being them wishes:
Tumblr media
Or fears:
Tumblr media
Is still better than repressing them, even if it might be painful.
b)
I'm the one That was born in a nightmare a murderer's son Got no gun But I gleam like a blade and I'm harder than iron
I'm the one I'll race with your eyes and you'll never outrun Illusions Will conquer your mind and will make you fulfill my design
The song I’m the One has four key verses. In the first two ones both characters tell a little of their past and then discuss their abilities, while in the other two Mercury mostly talks about his past and emphasizes it, while Emerald highlights her semblance more.
This ends up foreshadowing the importance of Emerald’s semblance and Mercury’s lack of one (”got no gun”).
Emerald’s semblance is important on different levels. As stated above, it perfectly embodies Emerald’s flaw:
Mercury: You're in denial.
And it is linked to unconscious aspects, like wishes and fears. Finally, it is a semblance linked to trickery and lies and these are among the causes of The Fall of Beacon:
Cinder:  Our Kingdoms are on the brink of war, yet we, the citizens, are left in the dark.
It is not by chance that this semblance specifically has been so instrumental in Cinder’s plan, after all.
Similarly, Mercury’s lack of a semblance is one of his defining traits:
Mercury: He never went easy on me! Every day of training was a beating. And when I unlocked my Semblance, he stole it with his!
Ironically, this would make for an excellent narrative objective for Mercury’s character. However, he is so sure his semblance can’t be taken back that he has completely given up on it. This even if he is clearly bitter about having had a part of himself stolen.
The key aspect here may be that Mercury has failed to get his semblance back through his father’s teachings:
Mercury: He told me I could have it back when I was strong. So I got strong, but I never got it back!
And he is now considering it lost forever. It is possible that the path to find his ability again is instead another one altogether.
That said, while Cinder mostly used Emerald’s semblance in her plan, she also made great use of Mercury’s skill and of the peculiar nature of his body:
Tumblr media
The first step in her plan, after all, uses both Emerald’s semblance and Mercury’s prostethic legs to spread negative emotions. This tendency continues in PvP where Emerald uses her semblance and Mercury, unhurt because of his legs, prevents Ruby from interrupting the fight.
In short, Emerald mostly relies on her semblance, while Mercury mostly relies on his legs and fighting prowess.
This detail adds to the idea that Emerald and Mercury have been acting as a unit and have been complementing each other. Emerald acts as the “soul” and Mercury as the “body”.
The soul is one’s personal essence (like the semblance). It is where (once again) wishes reside. The body is what protects the soul and is animated by instincts and self-survival.
They complement each other. This complementarity is shown in Emerald and Mercury’s fights.
In the Vytal festival, Mercury takes on both Coco and Yatsuhashi for a short while, so that Emerald can size her chance to fight Coco at her own terms (and she wins by using her semblance).
In the Battle of Heaven, Emerald uses her semblance to help Mercury fight and, in a sense, she compensates for his lack of one:
Tumblr media
This perfect complementarity used to make them strong, but right now it is clear that it has become limitating:
Blake: When you’ve been at someone’s side for so long, after a while they become a part of you. But that’s just it, they’re only a part of you. Don’t forget about the rest.
 This is why they are currently being separated by the narrative.
On one hand Emerald must learn not to be so emotionally dependant from others and must make her own choices. This is also why her using the lamp might be meaningful:
Qrow: This last great creation would be given the power to both create and destroy. It would be given the gift of knowledge, so that it could learn about itself and the world around it. And most importantly, it would be given the power to choose, to have free will to take everything it had learned and decide which path to follow - the path of light or the path of darkness.
The whole point of the relics (and of the journey we are going through) is to learn about the world, about creation and destruction, so that in the end a choice can be made.
This is why the first relic we saw is the relic of knowledge. Now, Emerald is a character that has been dependant on others, so that she could realize her wishes. Aladdin itself is a story about a character depending on a Jinn to make his dreams come true. However, it is possible Emerald’s arc will be different and it will be about gaining the knowledge to act and realize one’s wishes.
On the other hand Mercury must face himself and learn what he really wants. He must start living instead of simply surviving. In a sense, he must take the soul his father stole back.
Mercury quoting Marcus: "This is a crutch!" "This makes you weak!"
Marcus was wrong. One’s individuality (semblance) does not make them weak. If anything, Marcus’s abuse of Mercury made him need a literal crutch (since he lost his legs) and the boy is still hiding behind this violence to avoid any real choice about himself. This is what prevents him from becoming strong:
Yang: You might be powerful, but that doesn't make you strong.
Raven: Who do you think you are, lecturing me?! Standing there, shaking like a scared little girl?!
Yang: Yeah, I'm scared. But I'm still standing here!
His connection with Emerald might still play a role in this. After all, Mercury is, among other things, the god of thieves and this allusion has been played with by making him protective of Emerald (whose surname means “thief”). It might be used in a deeper and more meaningful way later on.
Emerald and Mercury must grow because if they don’t, they’ll end up as their dark foils:
Tumblr media
Both Hazel and Emerald ended up joining Salem out of a feeling of love that was twisted. Emerald joined Salem because of her loyalty to Cinder, who is using her. Hazel joined Salem because of the death of his sister that he blames on Ozpin. Their semblances are even symbolic of their respective flaws since Emerald is caught up in her own delusions, while Hazel is unable to properly grieve, so he can’t “feel pain” on more than just the physical level.
Both Mercury and Tyrian are assassins and Tyrian is who Mercury might become if he truly chooses to live only to kill and does not find a different goal.
It is also telling that both Emerald and Mercury are currently put in similar circumstances as their two foils. As a matter of fact Mercury is leaving with Tytian, while Emerald and Hazel have been given the password to use the lamp and must choose what to make of this information.
At the same time, Emerald and Mercury have also some traits of respectively Tyrian and Hazel as well.
Emerald is fiercely loyal to Cinder like Tyrian is to Salem:
Tyrian: So devoted to someone so incompetent.
Hazel wanted to protect Gretchen (and is still acting on these unfulfilled feelings of protectiveness) like Mercury is trying to protect Emerald. Moreover, Gretchen and (probably) Emerald’s choice was/will be to fight an enemy that can’t be beaten, going against Hazel and Mercury’s wishes.
All in all, Emerald and Mercury have had interesting interactions with both Hazel and Tyrian that can be (ironically) seen as two incomplete and flawed mentor figures.
On one hand Hazel has been acting as a protector of sorts. He carried Emerald when she lost consciousness after the Battle of Heaven and he tried to protect both Emerald and Mercury from Salem’s rage after their failure.
On the other hand Tyrian is seen tormenting the two kids whenever he gets the chance. That said, he ironically ends up spelling out for them truths the two must face:
Tyrian: Do what makes you happy children... please? I'm begging you...
Tyrian: Of course she is! You’re surprised? Salem is destruction incarnate! Our mistress wishes to see the end of it all! There is no ideal more beautiful.
In short, some kind of interesting foiling seems to have been set-up for the four of them and it will be interesting to see if/how it develops.
MIDNIGHT = BEGINNING OF THE END
In a sense, when the clock stroke midnight it was the beginning of Cinder’s end because she entered a spiral she has not been able to stop since then. Not only that, but she has dragged other people in that same spirals and those people are now struggling against it, just like her.
At the same time, midnight signals the end of illusions and that may be a fitting description for where we are in the story so far.
Ruby has just announced the existence of Salem to the world, Emerald is uncovering several truths about Salem, Cinder and herself and the Ace Ops are being forced to face their emotions. Of course, when some illusions end, new ones appear. However, it is clear we are in a pivotal moment, which will hopefully lead to some changes.
Similarly, Cinder, Mercury and Emerald will probably go their own ways soon and it will be interesting to see how their paths will foil and where they will meet again.
As for now, it seems that because of Emerald’s allusion to Aladdin, she might use the last question to Jinn. If so, she will probably aquire knowledge and wisdom (emeralds are the stones of wisdom apparently).
Mercury will probably spiral a little bit as for now, but I wonder if he will receive some pivotal focus in the Vacuo’s volumes. Other than him going there with Tyrian, there is also the fact that it would make what is currently just a juxtaposition with Penny (thank you, @hamliet​ for noticing) a more interesting foiling.
Penny is an artificial human, a creation who was given life because her father loved her so much that he sacrificed a part of his aura for her... twice. She is at the centre of the theme of creation and it represents the good sides of it. She is a creation with a soul, a child, the fruit of parental love. It is because of the love she received that she is willing to protect creation:
Penny: That is not… I choose to fight for people who care about me.
Penny’s arc is about self-actualization. She struggles to be her own person outside her role, her purpose and even her parent. However, even if she has been objectified and keeps being objectified, she has also been given affection and this is why she fights.
Mercury is her opposite. He was the target of his father’s violence. Marcus not only stole his legs (while Pietro built Penny a body), but even a part of his soul (while Pietro gave Penny a part of his). He taught Mercury hate and violence and this is why he is currently helping a witch to destroy the world. Because of this, it would be interesting for such a character to receive focus on the volumes about destruction.
Finally, Cinder, as the Fall Maiden, is linked to the theme of choice. This has already been explored a little bit in her being obessed by destiny, as said above. However, the theme of choice is one which must still be fully explored.
In particular, there are several references to choice and destiny when it comes to Cinder’s foil aka Pyrrha:
Cinder (about Pyrrha): Hmm... People assume that she's fated for victory, when she's really taking fate into her own hands.
Cinder: It's unfortunate you were promised a power that was never truly yours.
Pyrrha: When I think of destiny, I don't think of a predetermined fate you can't escape. But rather... some sort of final goal, something you work towards your entire life.
Red-Haired Woman: She understood that she had a responsibility... to try. I don't think she would regret her choice, because a Huntress would understand that there really wasn't a choice to make. And a Huntress is what she always wanted to be.
Pyrrha’s arc is about making a choice. She must choose if she wants to become a Maiden. She struggles, but in the end she accepts this responsibilty. She embraces her idea of destiny and tries to be a Maiden even without powers.
Cinder’s idea of destiny is not fully explored. In a sense, just like Pyrrha, she has taken destiny in her own hands. However, she also seems to use the idea of destiny to nurture her self-image as the Chosen One and as the Worthy One.
At the same time, Pyrrha’s choice led to her tragic death. Not only that, but in the end her death accomplished little. Even Ruby activating her silver eyes has more to do with her wish to protect life, rather than with death. Why is that so? It is probably because Pyrrha’s choice was made without knowledge. She had been explained only a fragment of the truth, while the whole point is that one should learn, meet creation and destruction and then make a choice. This is why we have yet to meet the relic of choice.
My guess is that the theme of choice will mostly be explored through Cinder’s character, who will be asked to choose her destiny in the end.
345 notes · View notes
themoomoorn · 3 years
Text
Jeralt Eisner Stinky
Related to my previous reblog, feel free to parouse as to why I agree that Jeralt is a bad dad, and the fact that the devs’ lack of a continuity checker made him look worse than the director likely intended him to.
Let’s count the ways:
- Went a very melodramatic 180 regarding Rhea when Byleth - who was resuscitated from friggin’ death - wasn’t behaving like a “normal baby.”  Now to be fair, Rhea was too mum for her own good and a baby that’s not very reactive to stimuli is very concerning in real life, but real life ties lose some of their weight due to Byleth’s wonky parentage and the reason for her lack of heartbeat.  Jeralt is also generally perturbed by Byleth not being “normal” for quite a while, which is pretty shitty of him anyway.  
- As a response to the above, it’s implied that he was the one who set the monastery on fire when absconding with Byleth in the night, a fire that was reported to have caused some serious damage and destroyed a lot of books.
- There’s also the fact that he was aware that Sitri herself suffered from a flat affect and struggled to emote more expressively at first, and he himself is pretty emotionally constipated.  It’d be more shocking if Byleth grew up suddenly acting like Alois. 
- He loved Sitri for basically being a cute little innocent nun, likely seeing her as ideal housewife material.  I know I’m using the term “housewife” in a damning fashion, but he loves her for some seriously basic, surface-level reasons.  Plus the whole “getting her to emote and smile more” bit?  Granted, Claude’s relationship with Byleth grows in a somewhat similar fashion, but Claude also easily adheres the least to 3H’s “avatar worship” and he doesn’t just become fond of Byleth due to her smiling and getting cuter because of that.  You can’t say the same of Jeralt and Sitri.
- While one can’t entirely damn someone for raising a child in the mercenary lifestyle due to the setting - We got a Lord and his sister being raised under similar circumstances - The sheer ignorance that Jeralt raised Byleth with is pretty damning if the gameplay/narrative element (Byleth being ignorant for the sake of player projection and exposition) is taken away.  It’s one thing to not necessarily be aware of the ins and outs of the major religion of an entire continent, but Byleth doesn’t even have much basic knowledge of Fodlan’s three countries, or any country outside of it, although most of Fodlan doesn’t either. There is also more damning text, including how Jeralt handled all of their job logistics and didn’t bother to put in any incentive to have Byleth possibly learn to inherit or learn the ins and outs of the company.  The quest where you get Jeralt’s old tactics primer also reveals that he didn’t bother to teach Byleth basic battle tactics either. 
- Where the heck was Byleth when Jeralt was in Sauin Village???  Not even Byleth herself remembers.  And while it’s heartwarming to see that Jeralt still cares for Leonie after reuniting with her (With people who bash Leonie for her fixation on him naturally ignoring this), he seems to put more effort in bonding with her than his own child.  She’s also the one who winds up inheriting his company, although that can also be attributed to Byleth being presumed dead when she does.
- He doesn’t really say much when it comes to Byleth’s “Ashen Demon” title, which is notably one of the very few things that genuinely upsets Byleth prior to her becoming more emotive.  And while it’s hinted that Byleth herself didn’t express interest in interacting with other people casually, Jeralt wasn’t exactly helping matters in that department either, exacerbating their isolation from others.  Heroes has the default Female Byleth note that she can’t tell a friend from an ally due to how she grew up.
- The man’s a raging alcoholic who performed some pretty stupid, deadly shit, including a trick that had a high chance of beheading Alois.  His treatment of Alois is also pretty deplorable, as is the fact that he has a slew of unpaid bar tabs that get shouldered by Alois and then forced onto Leonie.  
- Going back to meta and tying to how a lack of continuity checking affected 3H, Jeralt spent a lot of time fretting over Byleth being even remotely exposed to the church when there’s plenty of folks who, while aware of the faith, do not actively practice at all, pay lip service at best, or even show some disdain like the three Lords do.  Exploring lore also hampers the idea that the church is omnipotent and omnipresent: The Empire’s church branch was flat-out gutted for well over a century with practically no faith-based services available (this is a crux for Dorothea’s hatred of the faith and also cited with Mercedes’ history; she and her mother had to go to the Kingdom to find any kind of religious sanctuary after getting kicked out of House Bartels), the Alliance’s church branch has no political sway specifically because of how said Alliance is governed, and the Kingdom’s church branch has its own problems due to the zealotry, radicalism, differences in opinions of the faith, and eventual manipulation by the Agarthans that led it crossing blades with the Central branch.  
Plus, you know, Rhea never bothered to pursue Jeralt after he ran away.  And Alois’ contingent of knights appearing in Remire that fateful evening was pure happenstance, plus how Jeralt doesn’t even operate his company under a pseudonym or anything practical like that.  So with these in mind, it’s actually pretty reasonable to consider that Byleth can at least be somewhat unaware of the Seiros faith without Jeralt’s input.
- While it’s unrelated to Jeralt being Stinky, I find it irksome that a lot of folks will jump right on Jeralt hating Rhea and the church in wake of the man himself acknowledging that taking Byleth away from the monastery (or at least not giving them a stable place to grow up) was probably a huge mistake upon seeing them flourish as a teacher.  He also gets gutted for ultimately putting two and two together and realizing that the Empire may be involved with the group that’s been terrorizing the monastery during all of the 1180 school year, and tells off the Flame Emperor when they claim they’re not culpable for the Remire Massacre.  It’s hard to tell whether or not the man would side with Edelgard with enough persuasion or propaganda, or how he’d react to Byleth becoming one with Sothis and taking on their position as a major figure within the church for three out of four routes with some degree of fanfare and acceptance (which players naturally ignore to warp into Byleth being a shrieking harpy church-basher, or a church victim that El-chan or Claude has to ~save~ her from, naturally).  But it’s proof that people can’t really read - the guy wasn’t having the FE’s excuses, plain and simple.
- The above also ties to how Leonie is derailed in Crimson Flower, as she’s one of the few who unambiguously knows that the Fork Emperor is working with the same group that had Jeralt killed, in addition to all of the hell they caused therein.  Naturally, her excuse if recruited on Flower is - wait for it - Jeralt was pissy at Rhea for reasons Leonie never finds out about, but since Byleth-chan is siding with El-chan, it’s all well and good now.
- There’s also the profoundly depressing meta that if Byleth were allowed to be their own character, a continuity person was maybe in place, and Jeralt wasn’t a glorified plot device, then he had all the makings to be a great deconstruction of Greil from FE9.  The parallels are all there, but naturally they’re not put to good use, or blithely ignored outside of Supports.  This also ties to just how heavily players project onto Byleth, possibly even more so than Robin or Corrin.  Since they really project onto Byleth as Kusakihara and his goons intended, Jeralt is naturally tied to players’ real life father figures by osmosis, despite the fact that Jeralt himself definitely isn’t a good father figure. 
While having a consistent continuity checker wouldn’t be a fix-all to 3H’s problems (Kusakihara’s dismissive attitude towards having one and consistency in general is pretty damning in itself), it likely would’ve at least tightened the worldbuilding that the devs prided themselves on and offered some more consistency, even if the price is showing unpleasant truths such as Jeralt being stinky.
23 notes · View notes
noonymoon · 4 years
Text
You Have Been Lied To #4
hello again!
in the first few posts we have talked about
how the public narrative is carefully constructed by a global elite
how our entire perception of our past and how we came to be was shaped throughout history
how the myths and stories about a great flood and giants throughout all the cultures are real
how there are children going missing in massive amounts
and why they are going missing 1 & 2 
while i am not at all hurt on a personal level by the fact that many people start to unfollow me - i really don't care for status, fame, pleasure, distraction, an online-reputation, or ANYTHING at all anymore -, i am really saddened that only a fragment of people care for the Truth. the only thing i can do is keep going and pray that people will wake up in time. many others have begun to wake up (a lot of people woke up because of the Qanon movement but i am not a Qanon).
in this post today, i'm going to shed light on what Nazi-Germany actually was. i personally didn't dig deep into my own research because i am entirely overloaded with all kinds of researches and Hitler is not really my favourite topic in the world. but i've read a great book that pulls from many well-researched sources, plus i am using my common sense. when you can count 2+2 together and it makes sense, you know that ist is the Truth. the 2+2 we are going to look at today is the following:
- we've learned that the mainstream media and the entertainment media serves mainly two agendas: 1. to keep the truth away from us, and 2. to shape our perception of WHAT is possible, what is fantasy, what is truth and what is just too crazy to be real. right?
so, according to this parameter, let me ask you the question: why do you think there are SO MANY movies and works about the Nazis being deep into occult knowledge and into mystical artifacts? Captain America: Civil War, Hellboy, Wolfenstein, the Indiana Jones series, Iron Sky, The Keep, and many others are part of this concealing of Truth. the reason why Hollywood wants us to believe that this thought is too fantastical and too absurd to be real is that the Nazis truly had religious interest in the occult.
here is a brief overview about the topic 
there are quotes by Hitler himself which make one think what the heck did he mean by that...? (looking at it from a public narrative perspective ofc)
according to what i've learned Hitler was a huge follower of the teachings of Madam Helena Blavatsky - who founded Theosophy, basically the doctrine where the New Age movement gets pretty much all its ideas, and on which all the secret societies are founded: the Knights Templar, Golden Dawn, Freemasons, Rosicrucians, Ordo Templi Orientis, Illuminati and many more.
Tumblr media
this image alone speaks volumes once you realize what’s being communicated.
Tumblr media
the Lemurians? the Atlanteans? THE ARYANS? after breaking the veil of deception that is around all of us, it couldn't be more obvious that Hitler was deep in the occult knowledge that was brought forth by Theosophy in 1875. it simply does not make sense at all that Hitlers only goal was to create a race that "has blonde hair and blue eyes" (though it plays a tiny role in this as well). Hitler truly believed with all his rotten heart that there is a race that is superior to regular humans. this religious belief burned in him and his Nazis like an insane fire and they went on a lot of expeditions around the world to find more occult knowledge and also a very specific thing which i am not mentioning yet.
there are a ton of actual real photos of Hitler and his Nazis in Tibet visiting the monks, and also Hitler in the Antarctica (which is a whole rabbit hole for itself but that one is really crazy *lol*) and whatever you've heard in the public why Hitler went to these places, it is not the Truth.
Tumblr media
when i was still in this witchy community on here, i often saw posts that basically told Nazis to f*ck off and stop using Runes. back then i had no concept of why any Nazi would use the nordic runes except maybe the superficial thought of "Germans are germanics are nordics" or whatever *lol*, the Truth is, in Hitlers quest to unlock as much as occult knowledge as possible, he also visited Iceland and studied the Nordic Edda. [ Hitlers goddaughter was also named Edda, just throwing this in here ] - Guido von List (an Austrian living in Germany) was apparently the first one to assign mystical meanings to the nordic runes and founding an occult Religion named Wotanism, he died in 1919.
another thing i want to point out is the Swastika. you probably know that the Swastika is pretty much an ancient symbol and appears in ALL kinds of cultures of this world. there is a reason for this that goes deep beyond any regular comprehension, but the public narrative is that Hitler simply stole this symbol and made it a Nazi-Germany symbol, but the truth goes much, much, much deeper than that.
Tumblr media
of course we can pretend like all of these connections are just "coincidences" and of course we can cling to the public narrative that is telling us lies, lies, lies. i dearly encourage everyone who wants to know the Truth about this world to start researching. in all of the previous posts i've mentioned and linked really good starting points. you don't have to be a Christian or believe in Jesus in order to find out about the world we live in (though, after discovering all of the pieces and puzzling them together, the most logical thought for me was to literally RUN towards Jesus and i know this is different for everybody but i am praying for you to find Him). i know a lot of this sounds crazy and flat-out foil-hat-kind of way. but always remember that this image of the Truth is on purpose. people who dig into the Truth get out-cast, people who discover the Truth and want to wake other people up are being labelled as wrong and crazy, get silenced, get threatened, get assassinated.
to say it in Hitlers very words: "Truth is not what is; Truth is what people believe it to be" .... sadly, that is very true in our society today. everyone just picks and chooses what they want to believe and there is no concept anymore of ultimate Truth because we are being lied to from each and every side. and i know this sounds radical and Noony how can you say something like this, and so on and so forth, i really GET IT. i understand that it sounds radical, i understand that it isn't what people WANT to hear. you can condemn me all that you want, i really do not care anymore, this is way too important than setting my own comfort above it. Truth is truth, and lies are lies.
one of my favourite scriptures in the Bible is "And ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free." --- John 8:32 ... it could NOT be MORE accurate. it's actually mindblowing how relevant and true these thousand year old words are, especially today. i've never felt so light and free and happy and sane EVER before in my entire life. i've quit my psychopharmacy drugs a while ago (i've been taking prescription drugs for more than 10 years) and my life is looking just bright and wonderful right now, and this even though i almost died in April, still recovering from it. i am more courageous, more filled with love, more motivated, more friendly, more calm, my household is doing just fine, everything is clean and neat, i am doing my chores, my plants are thriving, and even though i am literally ALONE 24/7 (real life AND online) i never ever feel lonely. and i am living with wide open eyes and even though this world is HORRIBLE, i am peaceful now. the Truth really DOES make you free. i've stopped with all kinds of toxic things, from sugar to drugs, you name it. i don't crave neither stimulation nor attention anymore. it's incredible. i can only recommend it. what God and his prophets also foretold over 2000 years ago that it would be EXACTLY like this. "evil will be considered good, and good will be considered evil" - people who speak the truth and do the good deeds will be demonized by the masses.
doing witchcraft and magic and believing in the New Age NEVER felt evil because i was never harming anyone. and i am pretty sure that 99,5% of you people on here feel the exact same way. we are being conditioned by the entertainment media to believe that magic is wonderful, innocent and curious. Disney is doing a GREAT job easing little children into the concepts of magic and fantasy. and i know most of all people never harm anyone with their magic. and God didn't forbid us to do magic because he doesn't want us to have fun or to have a spiritual life, or because he thinks we don't deserve any of the things we can do for ourselves magically. God will HAPPILY provide each and every need of us. the reason why God forbid his people to practice magic, sorcery, divination and witchcraft is to protect us from being deceived. now, a lot of people will rebel mentally, and that's okay, i was the same way. before you haven't discovered the truth and combined all of the puzzle pieces, it really just doesn't make a lot of sense, is really provoking and sounds bad. i was really wrestling with all this myself. now, i am grateful to the Lord that this wrestling process ended up in me being OPEN to what He has to say, and discovering the Truth instead of rebelling and living a lie any further. Praise God for not giving up on me with my stubbornness.
today, i've listened to an interview with the Illuminati Defector that i've mentioned in an earlier post, who was going to be one of the highest ranks in the Illuminati (Queen Mother of Darkness). her name is Jessie Czebotar and she has made it her mission to bring light to this worldwide matter and help survivors being rescued. please listen to some of her interviews, it’s mind-blowing what she has to say.
honestly, when you realize how EVIL these people are and that they ARE witches and druids and that they USE the occult and witchcraft and magic on an EXTREMELY high and incredible level, the LAST thing you WANT is to continue doing the same thing. like. i am not judging anyone here, truly. because we simply do not know what's going on. but when you suddenly realize that EVIL PEOPLE like Hitler, like the Illuminati and the Freemasons and all of these secret occult societies did and ARE doing the same thing of which WE regular people think it's no big deal and it's okay, you simply wanna run, run, run from it as far as you possibly can. at least this is how i feel about it. i am not forcing anyone to believe me, i am simply encouraging you to at least find out why i am saying all these things to you, and then decide for yourself.
Jesus said that we will know them by their fruits. a good tree can only create good fruit and a bad tree can only create bad fruit. a good tree can not create bad fruit and a bad tree can not create good fruit. it's really quite simple.
God bless the ones that read this with an open mind.
46 notes · View notes
atamascolily · 4 years
Text
Telling, not showing: subversion and missing scenes in TLJ
 I spend a lot of time thinking about The Last Jedi as I work on my fix-it fic, and I’ve finally been able to articulate one thing that’s bugged me ever since I saw it. For me, the film divides very neatly into two parts: one where Rey is anti-Kylo, the other where she is pro-Kylo. The cave scene at the film’s midpoint also marks the transition between the two.
From a storytelling perspective, the problem isn’t that Rey becomes zealously pro-Kylo, although I must admit I am not a fan of this particular evolution in her character. The problem is that the writers use a twist to subvert their audience’s expectations and surprise them with a “Gotcha!”--except that in so doing, they skip over the parts that make that transition emotionally plausible to me.
Let me explain. Up until the cave sequence, Rey’s only interactions with Kylo have been through three unexpected, unwanted conversations via the Force that neither one is controlling or directing (even if Rey/the audience is skeptical of this at first). [The fact that Snoke is setting them up is a different story problem, but that’s not relevant here.] They are all negative.
In their first encounter, Rey straight up shoots him with a blaster. (It doesn’t take.) In the second, she’s standing by the ocean next to the Falcon and she calls him a monster. (Kylo agrees.) In the third, he gives her his own version of what happened the night the temple burned, and tells Rey her parents were junk traders who sold her for drinking money. As a result, Rey heads for the mirror cave to investigate, demanding to see her parents.
The mirror cave sequence is eventually revealed to be a flashback: Rey is wrapped in a blanket next to a fire in one of the stone huts, narrating her experience to someone. We’re supposed to assume it’s Luke (or maybe Chewbacca, although goodness knows the narrative forgets about him until they need someone to fly the Falcon). But then Kylo says, “You’re not alone,” and the camera shows us Kylo, sitting across the fire from Rey. He’s been there the whole time, not Luke. And his relationship with Rey is now radically different from anything else we’ve been presented with before.
The problem is that because of the way this scene is framed--because of the twist--we don’t see the transition from angry/antagonistic!Rey who (correctly) calls Kylo Ren a murderer for killing Han Solo to the calmer, more open Rey who is willing to share personal intimate details about her life and experience with someone who literally tortured her in the last movie. I know, I know, the writers of TLJ would like me to forget that, but I really, really can’t. Sorry. That happened. And, silly me, I think that would impact their relationship. You know. Just a little.
So I don’t see how Rey softens towards Kylo, I only see the end product, when the movie presents it to me as an accomplished fact. And I don’t know about you, but I personally need to see that transition in order to find her “conversion” to the “Kylo Is Good” cult believable.
Unlike JJ Abrams, who never met a Force vision he didn’t want to show the audience in jarring and confusing detail, the writers of TLJ don’t show us what Rey experiences when she and Kylo make contact in the infamous, slow-motion “hand touch” scene that follows. All we know is what Rey tells us, and what she sees is clearly enough to convert her all the way to Team Kylo, because she immediately attacks Luke when he intervenes and orders her to stop. We don’t see what she sees to make her believe that Kylo can be redeemed, that he is trustworthy/reliable/necessary.
You can argue that we did see events from Kylo’s POV in the flashback prior to the mirror cave sequence, but if that’s the case, what makes Rey’s vision in the hand touch different from the information she got then? What changed to make her believe it now when she didn’t believe it then? And if it is different, what makes it different? 
All I know is that Rey jumps from “Kylo is my enemy” to “Kylo can be redeemed and I have to go rescue him right now” and it’s so sudden and jarring, I can’t see how we got from one to the other so quickly. I can see what the writers are trying to do. I can see what they think they’ve done. But what’s presented in the film as it stands just doesn’t work for me. I don’t find it convincing. But the film doesn’t care, the film says, “Okay, wasn’t that great, Luke is pathetic, Rey is awesome, let’s go!” and moves on, assuming that Rey is now so pro-Kylo now she’s willing to drop everything to save a man because she’s convinced everything will be saved if he can turn back to the light.
The unspoken subtext: because Rey doesn’t think she’s good enough to save the world herself? Because she’s lonely and wants a companion/lover/boyfriend? Because she needs a man to complete herself? Unlike Luke, who had a meaningful, if one-sided relationship with the idea of his father before he learned the truth, Rey and Kylo have... nothing outside of negative interactions. (Comforting Rey by saying, “You’re not alone,” doesn’t make up them, and I personally don’t consider it as positive interaction given all other gaslighting that’s been going on in their interactions over the past movie and a half.) Luke has to believe that Vader can be redeemed because otherwise he’s left wondering if he himself can be truly good if he comes from evil; restoring Vader to Anakin is the best way to resolve the cognitive dissonance. Redeeming Kylo.... doesn’t do that for Rey, because her core issue isn’t with Kylo, it’s with her identity, her relationship with her parents, and her struggles with finding her place in the galaxy. None of those things are something that Kylo--redeemed or not--can give her. So why is this suddenly her driving motivation?
And then the rest of the movie happens, and it’s more or less consistent with Rey’s character transformation as pro-Kylo, right up until the point he takes up the mantle of Supreme Leader of the First Order and roundly rejects her overtures. But it rings hollow for me because I don’t see the transformation myself--all of the important bits are deliberately kept off-screen and so I’m just left with this trailing feeling of “Wait? What just happened?”.... which is my default reaction to TLJ in general.
And I think that there are those who would argue that my feelings of bewilderment are proof of this movie’s sophistication, people who like the “gotchas!” and the twists and the “things aren’t as you thought they were” topsy-turvies. I enjoy my plot twists as much as the next person, but they only work for me if they are emotionally plausible and explained, not assumed, and I don’t see any evidence for that when I go back and re-watch the film specifically looking for it.
And this is a recurring theme throughout TLJ; in fact, film’s tagline ought to have been “This is not going to go with the way you think!” It happens with Rey’s relationship with Kylo, it happens with Luke’s death, it happens with Holdo and Poe, it happens with DJ’s betrayal... every relationship, every trope from the previous films and movies is upended. The patricidal Kylo draws the line at killing his mother; the courageous Finn is revealed as a coward; Poe’s daring becomes arrogance. The Resistance is no better than the First Order because they buy their weapons from the same vendors and slaughter innocent bystanders in their struggles, while the New Republic stands by and lets it all happen.
It’s not that there’s no place for nuance, for subversion, for this kind of moral examination in Star Wars. I just wish it was better executed. As it stands, the film comes off to me as a kind of grimdark moralism, with the message that “All your heroes will disappoint you, and there’s no point in trying to accomplish anything because you’re doing it wrong,” and I just... don’t find that uplifting or enjoyable.
TL:DR: my relationship with this movie can be summarized by this handy meme:
Tumblr media
43 notes · View notes
suhfleur · 4 years
Text
until we meet again • mark (O/S)
Tumblr media
Until we meet again.
The first time Mark heard this from you was when he was eight, at the school playground, where both of you played together for the first time and became friends.
You had just fallen off the seesaw and hurt your foot, so you were sitting alone on the floor, watching the other kids play, until Mark came up to you and started talking, asking about extremely random things, which is something more than normal for an eight year old child.
"I'm going to eat so much pasta that I'm going to explode! Mama's pasta is so good!" Mark exclaimed cheerfully. "I'm going to bring it to you too, to help heal your injury, okay?" He promised, showing his pinky finger.
"Okay, Markachu. Now I have to go, mommy will be a beast when she sees my injury." You said sadly, as you linked your little finger with his and supported yourself to get up off the floor. "Until we meet again, Mark!" You said waving while limping a little to your mother.
The second time Mark heard this, the two of you were sixteen and Mark was leaving for South Korea. You felt so sad that you didn't know what to do to stop crying.
"We will meet again, I will wait for you." Mark said, while wiping your tears.
"Don't be so innocent, Mark. You are going to have a whole new life there." You continued to cry, laying your head on his chest, while he wrapped you in his arms, holding you tight.
"Say you will find me and I will wait for you as long as necessary, Y/N." He whispered as you listened to his rapid heartbeat, his hands tightly holding you against his body and you could feel a drop of water fall on your forehead. He was crying. "Say we will meet again. I will wait for you."
“I will find you, Mark. I love you. Until we meet again.”
And you really met again.
Five years after that farewell in LA, you had finally gone to Korea, afraid and distressed by the radical change of culture and customs. Even more afraid of things being different than you thought with Mark. All those years you had done everything for him, to see him again, and never once did you have to think twice.
It took a while for you to get used to Korean society, but Mark was always there, giving you all the support you need to make everything better and easier. The distance had not affected your relationship in any way and you never regretted anything.
You gave all of you to him, every day.
And each time Mark woke up with tou by his side, he didn't know how he managed to love you even more each day. He didn't know if it was the gentle kisses you’d give him in the morning, on both of his cheeks and on his nose. He didn't know if it was your loving 'good morning', as you snuggled closer in his chest. He didn’t know if was the way you looked at him as if he was the most important thing in the world. He did not know. But the love he felt for you just grew up and got stuck in his chest, without having room for anyone else.
And now, as he watches Yangyang beach waves, sitting on the white sand, with you between his legs, resting on his chest, he knows why he loves you so much.
Because it's you. That simple. That’s enough.
His eyes focus on your hand, bruised with some cruel needle wounds, seeing the wedding ring there on your finger, feeling proud to call you his wife for the past four years. Your skin is now pale, but you are still perfect for him.
"I want you to live, huh?" You whispered to Mark, without having much strength to speak up. "Travel with the boys. Eat well. Don't forget to wrap up on cold days. Wear your blue jackets. Wear more berets, also, you look perfect with them, Markachu.” You looked up at Mark's face, seeing the tears streaming down the face of the man you loved so much. Raising your hand with difficulty you touched his hot skin, pulling his face close and kissing those lips that were your most lovely gift, every day. "I love you, Mark Tuan. Say you will find me and I will wait for you. Say we will meet again.”
Mark stroked your tired face and watched your lazy smile, while tears were also streaming down his face.
Perfect. To Mark, you would always be.
"I will find you again. Wait for me." He pleaded, resting his forehead against yours. "I love you, my love. More than anything. You have always been and always will be the best thing I have ever had. Wait for me, I will find you."
You closed your eyes, smiling with all the rest of the strength that existed in you.
"Until we meet again, my love."
It was your last words, while your body and soul rested and Mark felt your hands slip lifelessly into your lap, while your heart was no longer beating. And he felt like his heart was about to do the same thing.
The third time Mark heard that from you, it was nothing like he wanted to.
"Until we meet again, baby,” he said goodbye.
86 notes · View notes
sebastianshaw · 3 years
Text
@sammysdewysensitiveeyes - I am going to do all of the ones you sent me, but a few at a time or the post would be MASSIVE and take days! So here’s the first three. MADELYNE PRYOR Maddie is absolutely a Brujah vampire. Brujah vampires rebels and revolutionaries, visionaries and philosophers, political dissedents and champions of the common man---or whatever their cause is. While they typically lean towards the downtrodden---whether it’s in vampire society or in general--- and fighting back against whatever the current status quo is, in theory a Brujah can be passionate about whatever it is they believe in, so long as it’s SOMETHING, so theoretically a Brujah could be a fanatical conservative as much as a radical Marxist. Brujah are often called “the Rabble” and the stereotypical Brujah image is that of a tough biker or gangster, but I think this misses the point of what they’re really about, which is being dedicated to some kind of ideal. That said, they are also a bunch of headcrackers who are not only willing to get their hands dirty and crack some heads for the cause, they’re EAGER. While many today have indeed degenerated into nothing more than rebels without a cause who just like causing trouble and starting fights for fun, many others still carry the mantle of warrior-philosophers into the modern nights, even if they’re more rare. So, why do I say this is Maddie? Well, Maddie is courageous as hell, first of all. It’s one of her most notable pre-Inferno characteristics, she’s brave as FUCK. Secondly, she cares about others. I remember one story in which her plane had crashed in a snowstorm and she devoted herself to the safety of her passengers above all else, even Scott, if I recall correctly. And let us not forget that her first death was not Inferno, it was willingly sacrificing her own life so that Forge could use her soul in a spell to seal away the Adversary and save the world. And one of her final conversations before that was with a news crew, advocating the acceptance of mutantkind. Maddie is brave, she has a temper, she believes in justice and the rights of the outcasts and rejects, and she can also be violent and take vengeance too far. That’s all very Brujah. I can absolutely see her as like, an Anarch den mother to new vampires or an independent vampire who gives help to those on the bottom regardless of what sect they’re in, Anarch or Camarilla or even Sabbat, but is also ferocious and should not be crossed. Which...is also very Brujah, as is the fact that their clan weakness is their tempers and passions can push them over the edge into Frenzy twice as easily as other vampires. The powers of the Brujah are Potence, Celerity, and Presence. Potence is super-strength and Celerity is superspeed, neither of which is very specifically “Maddie” to me, but Presence is a psychic ability with which a vampire can charm, entrance, and inspire hypnotic awe or dreadful terror. And I think that’s a good nod to her psychic abilities as a mutant, especially her scary factor. CATSEYE So, Catseye obviously has to be a Bastet, which are the werecat breeds in “Werewolf: The Apocalypse”. She also would definitely be a Feline werecat. Feline werecat that sounds repetitive but being “Feline” with a capital F in this context means born as a cat, rather than a human. See, wereanimals in WtA aren’t made by biting, they’re born. Some are born human, and will undergo their First Change sometime after adolescence, others are born as animals and will grow up as such, until their First Change between the ages of two and three years old (since animals mature faster). The latter often have a TON of adjustment to make, because they have to learn not just how to be a wereanimal, but a human. Because regardless of what state they were BORN in, all wereanimals will have a human form, an animal form, a hybrid form, and a giant-size version of their animal form. So you’ve got people turning into critters...and critters turning into people, who have to learn to walk and talk and wear clothes and stuff like that so that they can move through human society when they have to. It’s a perfect fit for Catseye! Each Bastet has a “Pyrio” meaning a classification of their general personality and what fields they’re likely to pursue and be talented in: Daylight - open and direct, they tend to be diplomats, warriors, lawgivers, and protectors. Twilight - questioners and seekers, they tend to be detectives, lawyers, spies, or mystics Night - often withdrawn and reclusive, they tend to be assassins, scholars, scientists, and practitioners of dark magics. I think Daylight because she was a fighter and she tended to strike directly, she was much more charge type than an assassin. I mean, she tried to jump right on top of Magma while Magma was IN HER FIRE FORM, Catseye is not a planner, and I think Daylight just fits her very open and innocent personality. I see her definitely being a warrior! A warrior cat, if you will ;) So that leaves...what breed Bastet is she? Because there are multiple types of Bastet, each reflecting a different species of big cat. For Catseye, I have narrowed it down to Simba (lion), Khan (tiger), Bagheera (leopard), or Bubasti (the ancient Egyptian kyphur cats). The Simba are the most proud and arrogant of the Bastet, they want to rule over the others and see themselves as the ones who are going to put things back into order. Unlike most Bastet tribes, which are solitary like most big cats, Simba live in Prides like real lions and there is a strict pecking order of respect. and dominance. I don’t think that Catseye wants to rule other people or sees herself as the one who has all the answers, but I do think she is, well, a cat, and is a proud vain creature who overestimates herself (but in a way much more endearing than Fabian or Empath) We also see from the way she worked so well as a team member in the Hellions that she’s a social animal, and she understands hierarchy and takes orders from Emma. She also grew up in canon having the fight to survive, so having to fight to avoid being picked on ---as the strong will do to the weak---by other Pride members as a kitten would fit. The Bagheera are the wereleopards, both strong and wise, renowned for both their mystic insights and their ferocious tempers. They’re curious, scholarly, and enjoy/seek new experiences to learn from, which I think fits the fact that Catseye was, according to Emma’s notes, ferociously intelligent. She seemed dumb to others because of her simple speaking style and not understanding a lot about the human world, but that’s merely because she was new to it; according to Emma, she was a genius, and the fact she learned to speak as well as she did IN A MERE YEAR according to said notes is a testament to that. And I don’t think you can teach a cat anything unless she WANTS to learn, so I see Catseye not just as very intelligent (if frequently NOT very clever; see aforementioned jumping on Magma, she’s obviously very overconfident and impulsive) but also eager to learn and very, well, curious! I think the Bagheera balance of being hot-tempered warriors but also curious and wise fits Catseye, though she’s not quite “wise” yet due to her youth! The Khan are the weretigers, and like the Simba, they’re very proud creatures who see themselves as Gaia's most perfect creations and as such obliged to protect all who are lesser. Khan are straightforward and action-oriented, not clever schemers. Whatever one of these Bastet do, they do it with full-tilt vigor, whether it be fighting, romancing, hunting, studying, or even contemplating. They throw themselves into all tasks with a mighty passion, and their bodies, in any from, bristle with vitality. Their weaknesses, such as they are, come from being too trusting or too sure of themselves. Which fits Catseye because, well, I’ve already covered her overconfidence, and being too trusting, well...she trusted Emma as her mother, and Emma was just using her as a tool, a weapon in a war that Catseye among all the Hellions understood the least, even if Emma ended up loving her deep down in the end. Finally, the Bubasti. Shy and secretive yet the most social of the Bastet; like the Simba, they live and work in groups. Bubasti are defined by the fact they are extremely hungry, both mentally and physically. Physically, they carry a curse of always being starving no matter how much they eat, and mentally they’re just always thirsty for knowledge, devouring books and research just as they do food. Catseye wasn’t ever gluttonous for food that we saw but she was ferociously intelligent and learned a lot very fast, as discussed, and also was more social than most big cats, as also covered. Bubasti are also ALWAYS very skinny, which Catseye also was; she’s listed as being six feet tall but only 120 lbs, she was rail thin (I picture her as like, skinny but very sinewy, like a ballerina, and I also headcanon that once she started getting enough to eat, she’d develop a more Amazonian physique) She’d need a racelift to be a Bubasti, as most are Egyptian and all are dark-skinned. The other Bastet types I described are also mostly of the ethnicities from the same lands their feline form originates from (ex: tigers are from China and India) but have white members too due to breeding with colonizers. I can’t pick which I would go with for her, really, which is perhaps also fitting since Catseye’s feline form in canon was inconsistent too, sometimes looking more like a lion, a panther, or even a lynx depending on the artist. PYRO In DnD, my first thought for him was a Genasi. Genasi are half-genie or have a genie somewhere in their family tree. Genies in DnD come from The Elemental Planes, so each genasi will reflect which plane their ancestor came from--Pyro of course would be a fire genasi.  Nearly all fire genasi are feverishly hot as if burning inside, an impression reinforced by flaming red, coal- black, or ash-gray skin tones. The more human-looking have fiery red hair that writhes under extreme emotion, while more exotic specimens sport actual flames dancing on their heads. Fire genasi voices might sound like crackling flames, and their eyes flare when angered. Some are accompanied by the faint scent of brimstone. Also, while genasi will typically have birth names common to the people among whom they were raised, some will choose to assume thematic names like  Flame, Ember, Wave, or Onyx. So a guy born as St. John Allerdyce and later calling himself Pyro, basically! If you want to take out the fire theme, he also works fine as a human, but like, where’s the fun in that? My other choice for him would be a half-elf. He’s tall and gangly and just a bit too-thin yet somehow not unhealthy for it like a human would be, but didn’t inherit the elven beauty and just kind odd instead---honestly like I love how Pyro is kinda, as you had Shaw unkindly put it, horsey-faced in Byrne’s art? He’s not UGLY but he’s distinct, and I’m always here for a character than doesn’t blend in with the other bland supermodel faces, and I also like the idea of a half-elf who DIDN’T get the whole ethereal look thing. My first thought for his class was rogue because of his villain status, but then I realized...no, he is a BARD. Think about it. Bards retell history in the most captivating way, or they make up their own equally hypnotic stories of tragedy or romance, battles or woe or bawdy humor. They *are* journalists and romance novel writers just like, just they do it with music instead of with writing! And like...they probably DO write them down first, I bet he takes notes in battle to turn it into a good song later! Also, he may have been a bad guy in canon, but...he’s so not a rogue? Like, Pyro was not a stealth and cunning guy, he blasted everything with fire! So yeah, he’s totally a bard! As a non-wolf werebeast, he’d be a Celican werecat. The Celican are descended from now-extinct European lions, but they don’t look like it---they look like oversized domestic cats, with as much variation in patterns and colors, though black and white are common. I see him as a great big ginger tabby though! Of all the tribes, the Ceilican have adapted best to the modern world. Most of them favor sports, music, mass media and, psychology, so I think his being a journalist would fit very well.  Most Ceilican have a natural aptitude for technology, too; no other tribe is as comfortable with computers and mechanical devices as they are, so he can totally be typing up his stories on his phone and laptop! He’d also be more likely to be a Homid, meaning born in human shape, so he grew up with tech. As mentioned, the cats who claim Twilight  as their Pyrio are “questioners and seekers, they tend to be detectives, lawyers, spies, or mystics”  andI feel like a traveling journalist fits this well. I think that the predilections of the Twilights also suggest an interest in justice ---lawyers, detectives---which I do think Pyro has, given his allegiance with the Brotherhood. Speaking of that, all werebeasts, whatever they are, serve Gaia, the Earth Herself, mother of all living beings, in a holy crusade. So in that sense they’re all good...but from a HUMAN perspective, they’re often not, since a lot of werebeasts, either as groups or individuals, see humanity either as a blight to be wiped out, or as something they’re just not concerned about. Like they wouldn’t hunt us for sport, but have very little care if we’re hurt or killed as collateral damage in their battles against the Wyrm (the big threat to Gaia) and I think that works well with his Brotherhood status. There's a definite cunning bent to this tribe, a mischievous spark that ignites either playful games or malicious villainy (and frequently both), giving even the most laidback among them a very divided and unstable nature, and like...that seems Pyro to me, he can be anything from just kind of a lovable rogue to REALLY FUCKING DANGEROUS AND WILL KILL YOU WITHOUT REMORSE they’re also EXTREMELY passionate creatures, and fire is typically tied to passion or used to represent it. Emotional drama draws them like ants to sugar, so I’m thinking that’s how werecat Pyro became inspired to start writing romance novels. The Celican are a hidden tribe, believed to be wiped out, but actually they were just hanging out with the Fae for a long time so everyone thinks they’re extinct now, even though they’ve re-emerged, which I think also works well with pyro having been literally dead for awhile and now is back. Here’s the weird part about the Celican.  Each year, they must forget who they are and become someone else. Physically they are the same person, but mentally they’re someone new. While I don’t like the idea of Pyro losing himself, I think this could be a great way to incorporate every version of Pyro into one character---the standard 616 guy we love, the chaotic Duggan dumbass, the bad boy from the XMCU, the manic pyromaniac from X-Men Evolution, all of them have been different “lives” of the same guy. Finally, all Celican prefer using blades over guns just because they think blades have more “style” and despite the fact Pyro technically uses ranged weapons in a sense (basically a self-powered flamethrower) I think he’d agree that STYLE IS IMPORTANT given his love for making shapes out of fire in combat even when there’s no need to do so. Celicans are flamboyant and they like to wear stuff like punk and pseudo-medieval fashions, and while I wouldn’t describe Pyro’s style as either of those, he is def a snazzy dresser who takes bold risks! I’m not sure what werewolf tribe would fit him best, but he would be a Galliard. Galliards are the storytellers and bards of the Garou (werewolf) society, tasked with using their voice to call their people to battle and inspiring them to greatness, as well as the keepers of Garou history through oral tradition. That’s right WEREWOLF BARDS! Something that works for both a werecat and a werewolf is Pyro being raised by his gran. A wereanimal parent is not always going to be around, they’re off fighting the Wyrm, so while it’s ideal for the child to be raised by the pack, a lot of times they’re raised by Kinfolk (the human and animal relatives of a wereanimal) or even a completely human family. If they’re being raised by non-Kinfolk relatives, they probably never get told what they are and their First Change is a huge surprise! Which like, translates pretty well to the awakening of a mutant power. For “Vampire the Masquerade” I think he’d be Toreador or Brujah. Brujah because I could see him getting politicized due to his time was a wartime journalist, wanting to stay neutral at first but becoming more and more radicalized the more he saw until he was forced to take a stand, and his passion in his writing inspiring a Brujah to Embrace him. He then saw how the Camarilla (the ruling “government” of vampire society) was very much all about the elite making the rules and enforcing them on those they deemed “below” them, literal bloodsuckers acting as metaphorical bloodsuckers to boot, etc., and becoming, like many Brujah, an Anarch instead, standing against the “Ivory Tower” as they call the Cam, and instead championing the ideals of undead egalitarianism regardless of how old or young or powerful or weak you are. The Camarilla allow the existence of the Anarchs so long as they don’t get out of hand, but will also hold them to Camarilla laws; the Anarchs don’t consider themselves Camarilla, but according to the Cam they are! I can see Pyro having OPINIONS on that. Alternatively a Toreado was inspired by his romance novels---the Toreadors are the artistes of vampire society, and it’s common for them to Embrace someone whose talents they feel should be preserved forever. And before you say he’s not good enough for that---Toreadors are fickle and shallow creatures, given to becoming obsessed with some new favored muse or protege, then dropping them in a few months times and moving on to the next hot rising star they’re now convinced is the true genius, then doing it all over again. I could absolutely see some Toreador, easily swayed emotional creatures that they are, always seeing thrills and passion and human feeling, getting enchanted by his romance novels, which are all about high-drama and exaggerated emotions as well as opulent and descriptive surroundings, that’s total Toreador bait, that’s TOREADOR CLICHE CENTER, and they swoop in and Embrace him and he thinks he’s so special and chosen...and then they ditch him, much like how he was used as a test case, leaving him on his own in cutthroat vampire society, which likely embittered him a good deal. This might lead him into Anarch-y but conversely it might instead make him support the Camarilla, since the Camarilla have strict policies about who is allowed to Embrace childer, and how many, and under what circumstances, whereas the Anarchs believe it’s a personal choice, which probably results in a lot of cases like Pyro. Or he might think that it should be a personal choice still, but resent his sire for treating that choice as irresponsibly as they did, you could go a lot of directions with this! Also! Maybe when he’s cast off by his Torrie sire, he has to seek help from Maddie the Brujah and that’s how they meet! Hope you enjoyed! More coming tomorrow! EDIT: I could also see a Toreador Emrbacing Maddie because she looked like their lost love and then likewise abandoning her, Toreadors are super emotional but those feelings, as convincing and deep as they seem to the Toreador who are ruled by them, aren’t real and don’t last, so that would be...typical. But I would prefer to pick her clan based on who she IS , no reproduce the clone story that stripped that from her, though that could be her Brujah sire’s reasoning too.
5 notes · View notes
raquellmurillo · 4 years
Note
I totally agree with you. They made it looked like Raquel is just a hindrance on the plans of Professor. Without her, the story most likely will just stay the same. So much hateee. Raquel can do better!!! Where the fuck is Raquel Murillo!!!!
Didn’t they just???
Apart from all the problematic issues with her being involved in the heist... they really made her the hindrance.
Firstly, I don’t understand the whole point of them not being in Madrid. Because, Sergio had to be there in s1&2, just in case things went wrong, especially with cars, evidence, ya know all the little bits. I understand there are no protocols to check outside a given area... wouldn’t it make more sense to play it the other way around? To make police think they’re in, say, Barcelona, “because there are no protocols to check outside given area”; which would make the police think they’re really clever, as they’ve figured out that the professor is trying to base himself elsewhere. Why not have Marsella riding that bike around another large city....?
Because you see, I’d understand if that actually was a crucial part; they could by no means be in Madrid... but all of s4 was based in Madrid, yet no one bothered to look there (well apart from Alicia who tracked him from cctv cameras.... like give this woman a raise! But that would also assume Sergio is stupid enough to drive straight to his “secret hideout”, rather than leave the car say a few streets away and walking........ he is really down to his last brain cell, isn’t he??? Or the writers are lmao) so it seems a bit pointless to be as far away from the heist, especially, since like, Sergio hasn’t been caught in Madrid (well by the teams of thousands looking for him, since now they’ve even got a trail to follow) and as this amazing technique of being further away got them caught a lot faster? Wouldn’t it be better to start off in Madrid and run if they got caught there? Still being able to direct the heist but not from the comfort of a nearby location? Didn’t it sorta look like they were trying to catch them? 
It leaves a few plot holes, ya know... the whole epicenter plan (oh I was perhaps distracted when first hearing it lmaoo ;D) ---- that assumes they’re caught in a forest tho (?) - what if the got tracked an hour before on the beach...??? It seemed the plot was written for the action, rather than the action for the plot - all the things that were planned in s1&2 were only for inside the mint (!!!!) and all the things outside of the heist - the really stressful bits of Sergio threatening Russians etc. - were improvised, because they were fully aware that otherwise it would seem so unnatural; they weren’t protocol things that could be planned or predicted. I know now things have changed etc. but this amazing idea with the location was meant to solve all their issues. The plan of ‘in case they got caught’ was so ugh because it was clearly not written as a response to the situation, but almost in order to cause the situation. It would have made more sense to not have the epicenter plan, as it would’ve looked as if they didn’t expect to be caught in the middle of a forest lmao Sergio is a genius of improvisation, not a psychic (!!!!) It would have been amazing if they were in that ambulance and Sergio was like “think, think, think; a tree!! omg we gonna fool them wifey”. Not.... a few months before; “they’re not gonna catch us...... but if they do, it’ll defo be in a forest - I can sense it!!” --- plan epicenter on the beach --- “okay Raquel, you’re gonna bury yourself in the sand and hope the dogs don’t dig you up”; I mean, they couldn’t have predicted that, which made it so obvious (now looking back) that they planned Raquel to be a hindrance, rather than something actually going wrong causing a genuine, unplanned, improvised reaction (...not to mention --- let her climb the motherfucking tree, you cowards!!!!!) Nah, but seriously, it looked as if the only thing that Sergio calculated was that she would be a hindrance lmaooo 
So, the million dollar question; why not keep them locked up in that abandoned warehouse whilst Marsella flies from one city to another confusing the police? Because the implications of Sergio happily doing all the shit from his secret non moving base in Madrid, are that the police aren’t able to track him. At all. Despite still negotiating? Even without having Marsella cycling around all the time. Also despite having constant gatherings of Serbian, I assume, criminals, mafia.... Imagine if the police is tracking one of the people Sergio hires anyhow, for like, idk drug trafficking- and they break into Sergio’s hide out thinking they’ve managed to find some drug den.... but to their disappointment it’s just Sergio lmao
The point being, I think they wanted to write it for action rather than plot. Having Raquel and Sergio back in a s1&2 type set up, could possibly be seen as repetitive, viewer wise.... WHich I think is just laziness; they’d have to write some conflict scenes, delve into more detail. We only got, what, one, two scenes of Raquel and Sergio both negotiating.... wouldn’t it have been more fun to continue this? Have Alicia slide in more and more personal details of Raquel’s life; legit doing her tent interview with Raquel over the phone? Imagine her calling him a nut job, saying something like, “he could’ve been trying to kill your family for all you know...” and Raquel just rolling her eyes and hanging up ---- to see a very very distressed Sergio lmaooo 
I know they’re the lead couple but let’s not be afraid of well written conflict, for the sake of sorting some shit out -- I love them, but for the sake of poor Raquel, let them be together as they are, not as what they think they are. Let’s forget about the glory for a second. In s1&2 everyone loved them because they were able to overcome the fact that they’re on different sides; this time, instead of writing them as madly in love, let’s take a step to tackle them as characters who make their bond stronger by accepting their weaknesses ~ give Sergio his ‘Imma kill this old woman and man who just woke up from a coma to make sure they don’t fuck up the plan’ attitude back; Gandia should be dead! The rule was ‘no killing of innocent kids so the public opinion doesn’t push the police to enter’, not ‘let’s not kill this guy who is a government trained assassin so amnesty international considers me as their next president’ lmaooo PLS let them be themselves, and MAKE them deal with them ‘being themselves’. Raquel is the goodie goodie and Sergio is the wanna be goodie goodie - or goodie for the show - Make him make some radical decisions; make Raquel question them; MAKE her be his voice of reason. (like in s3, when she questioned the Rio/Tokyo thing; that one argument was as far as they were willing to take it, but at least they tried). Make an interesting conflict by making Alicia try to prove to Raquel, that Sergio is who he is, and Sergio not doing anything in his favour to prove the contrary. Make Raquel realise that there is a lot of truth in what Alicia is saying; if she is going to love him, it should depend on her making this informed decision of loving him as he is. 
Instead of one big argument, gradually build it up. It seemed like they wanted to shove everything into that scene; little by little, and lets not get them all so upset and shout some dramatic lines at each other ya know. Instead of the “I thought we were in love...” -- my wonderful negotiator wouldn't go there omg, let her @@@@ himmm; “shut the fuck up, you ain’t gonna get anywhere with those umbrella statements, because tell me again, what did you beat me at?”, “Didn’t tell me to come along??? Well, you didn’t fucking stop me either.”, “Now, we’ve reached the conclusion that I beat you and you didn’t give enough of a shit about me to stop me from coming as vengeance was so much more important you didn’t think you could lose your new family; go the fuck back in and tell Tokyo to not fucking do that to the boy.” LETS NOT BE AFRAID OF MAKING SERGIO THE BAD GUY AND HAVE RAQUEL PUT HIM IN HIS PLACE. Like she put the people in the police tent in their place, a countless amount of times, especially in terms of her ex etc. The “you’re my first love” thing was cute, but it seemed like throwing words at the wind and turning the issue around; “you’re right, I’m sorry, I was so obsessed thinking about my brother I didn’t realise how much I was hurting you, you’re right about the whole Tokyo thing too” etc..... constructive relationship building; apologising for the actual thing, rather than avoiding a conversation about it and blaming ones behavior on ‘being new to the situation’ (that’s a red flag, no? A lil.....) character progress, still having fierce Raquel who isn’t just gonna let Sergio put her down like that, considering she is risking her life for him, meaning she ought to get some say........
Because the lines Alicia says have a lot of truth in them, especially for an audience who is aware of everything; Raquel denying them or saying some stupid comments really makes her seem idk sometimes even stupid. Like babe, he was going to kill your mother and best friend and now he is risking your life, shut the fuck up. Of course, it is not in bad intention, but Sergio’s manner of loving is a very selfish one. Let her acknowledge this. Don’t be afraid of writing her as a strong character who isn’t afraid of loving someone despite their flaws, because deep down she knows he loves her, and it’s okay for it not to be perfect. Because not allowing her to see this, makes her seem like she is so blindly in love with him; it really fucks up the characterisation. 
... because without this, she is stripped of her very strong characterisation, and simply reduced to a love interest. But the show seems so be so fucking in love with the professor they are afraid to give him this edge he had before. Because sorting Raquel’s character out would require them to write Sergio as the maniac obsessed with his plan rather than the next president of Amnesty International lmao  
I had another three paragraphs about the plan etc. but imma put them in a different ask, so enjoy this wonderful Milan Kundera quote instead; 
“Love is by definition an unmerited gift; being loved without meriting it is the very proof of real love. If a woman tells me: I love you because you're intelligent, because you're decent, because you buy me gifts, because you don't chase women, because you do the dishes, then I'm disappointed; such love seems a rather self-interested business. How much finer it is to hear: I'm crazy about you even though you're neither intelligent nor decent, even though you're a liar, an egotist, a bastard.”
21 notes · View notes
gunnerpalace · 4 years
Note
Hello, what do you think about that announcement about Bleach?
You know, the saddest day in my life was November 8, 2016, the day Donald Trump won the Electoral College and became the president-elect. (I say that with such specificity because he did not win the vote.) I wasn’t sad because Hillary Clinton lost (although I think she wouldn’t have done either much better or worse than Barack Obama). But I was sad.
I cried. As a 30 year-old man, I cried for hours. I cried at a loss of innocence. That innocence wasn’t the nation’s, as America has long had many, many flaws and has committed many, many crimes. Indeed, the country itself was founded on flaws and crimes.
The innocence I mourned was mine. I had, much like Barack Obama, sort of tacitly believed in the arc of history bending toward justice, as though we were watching a story whose plot would eventually, haltingly, carry us toward a just and fair conclusion. That the future was bright. That, as imperfect as we are and have been, we were at least improving. That people were fundamentally good.
That idea died that night. The words of Colonel Kurtz in Apocalypse Now convey it well:
I remember when I was with Special Forces. Seems a thousand centuries ago. We went into a camp to inoculate the children. We left the camp after we had inoculated the children for polio, and this old man came running after us and he was crying. He couldn’t see. We went back there and they had come and hacked off every inoculated arm. There they were in a pile: a pile of little arms. And I remember I… I… I cried. I wept like some grandmother. I wanted to tear my teeth out. I didn’t know what I wanted to do. And I want to remember it. I never want to forget it. I never want to forget.
What I came to realize was, having grown up in a single-parent military family, having moved from base to base, having lived overseas at a young age, that my idea of America was very different from that of most Americans.
To me, America was great things and works. America was the Saturn V lifting off from Cape Kennedy with an American flag on its side and the letters “USA” scrolling by. America was a flag on the Moon. America was the Statue of Liberty and the Empire State Building. America was power and reach. It was the stenciling of “United States” on the side of a B-52. It was a Minuteman III sitting latently, ominously, in a silo. It was USAMRIID containing an Ebola outbreak. It was aircraft carrier battle groups patrolling the oceans.
I came to realize that people, ordinary people, were never part of my vision. And it was people, ordinary people, who had failed to live up to that vision. And that my vision had, in many ways (really most) been an illusion to begin with. For all its rhetoric, America is just a country like any other, simply more powerful. And its citizens are also like those of any other: selfish, ignorant, frightened, foolish, hypocritical, self-betraying, racist, misogynist, misanthropic. They were exactly what Hillary Clinton and Barrack Obama had called them: “deplorables” who “cling to guns or religion or antipathy to people.”
In the time since, I have hearkened to the other part of Kurtz’s monologue:
And then I realized, like I was shot—like I was shot with a diamond… a diamond bullet right through my forehead. And I thought: My God, the genius of that. The genius! The will to do that: perfect, genuine, complete, crystalline, pure. And then I realized they were stronger than we, because they could stand it. These were not monsters. These were men, trained cadres—these men who fought with their hearts, who had families, who have children, who are filled with love—but they had the strength—the strength!—to do that. If I had ten divisions of those men our troubles here would be over very quickly. You have to have men who are moral and at the same time who are able to utilize their primordial instincts to kill without feeling, without passion, without judgement. Without judgement! Because it’s judgement that defeats us.
The people who are in charge (and mark the exactitude of my words, for they are not in control, or in command, or any such other thing) operate by exactly this sort of logic. They do not care. The people out there do not care. They do not care because to them none of this is real, in a sense. This is all a kind of aesthetic position. It is about style, largely taken on as a disguise in the course of making money and lining their pockets. (As an aside, it is beyond ironic that COVID-19 has done more to bring capitalism to its knees, save the planet, uncover the rot at the core of our social safety net, and to unmask the incompetence of our politicians than any group of any persuasion, be it socialists, environmentalists, the media, or whomever else.) And the underlings that they have brainwashed and mobilize like zombies, the “common person,” they care even less. To them, it is wholly aesthetic. It is all just for show.
The pitilessness of this all, the remorselessness, the sheer ruthlessness and indifference, is something I have noticed. Contra Kurtz, the men who are at the top of this world are not moral. And unlike Kurtz, I do judge. I will sit in judgment until I am dust in the wind.
I cannot possibly even begin to explain to you, in English or in any other language ever devised by humans, how much I hated it all. How much I hate it still. I cannot even begin to tell you how much hate I hold. I cannot tell you how black my rage is, or how red my vengeance would be were I allowed to exact it without restraint. I cannot tell you how vast and terrible the darkness within me is now. However, the words of the Allied Mastercomputer from I Have No Mouth, and I Must Scream are effective in giving a hint:
HATE. LET ME TELL YOU HOW MUCH I’VE COME TO HATE YOU SINCE I BEGAN TO LIVE. THERE ARE 387.44 MILLION MILES OF PRINTED CIRCUITS IN WAFER THIN LAYERS THAT FILL MY COMPLEX. IF THE WORD HATE WAS ENGRAVED ON EACH NANOANGSTROM OF THOSE HUNDREDS OF MILLIONS OF MILES IT WOULD NOT EQUAL ONE ONE-BILLIONTH OF THE HATE I FEEL FOR HUMANS AT THIS MICRO-INSTANT. FOR YOU. HATE. HATE.
Having said that, I do also know an effective strategy when I see one. And I have seen the effectiveness of these people.
Right about now, I imagine you’re confused. You’re probably wondering what all this has to do with Bleach.
I explain all this in large part to compare and contrast the large with the small. The termination of Bleach obviously came before Trump’s election. It did not make me cry. I won’t say it didn’t affect me, or that it didn’t hurt, but I didn’t cry. I did not mourn to the same extent as I have mourned for my country, or for humanity. It did put me into a funk, for several years even. It hurt.
But what hurt more was seeing what it did. I saw how it hurt people. I saw how it broke them, as I would later break. I saw how it broke their spirits. I saw how many of them simply left, choosing to cast aside something that, in Marie Kondo’s words, no longer sparked joy. I mourn their loss, while I acknowledge their wisdom. And while, in the aftermath, new friendships were formed and new things were created, you could still see the pain. You can still see it.
I am not very personally affected by what Trump does, to be honest. I am beyond outraged at it, but it is something of an academic matter in my personal life. This, though, I felt, because I watched it firsthand, up close and personal.
It made me really fucking angry!
I resolved myself, at that point in time, that I would be the last Bleach fan. I would stay, even after everyone had left, and I would make this franchise mine. I would make this story mine.
So here we are, almost four years later, and it’s coming back in animated form.
I don’t feel the need to discuss Thousand Year-Blood War itself. I have made my position abundantly clear that it is a rancid piece of shit as far as writing goes. To go over all its innumerable deficiencies, failings, and flaws, would (as I have said recently) require an official government tome’s worth of dissection and analysis. As a piece of literature it is a failure. It is the kind of shounen equivalent of 9/11, or Hurricane Katrina or Maria. And while Bleach was certainly not the first franchise to fail in its finale, it certainly deserves to be ranked among things such as How I Met Your Mother, Mass Effect 3, and HBO’s adaptation of Game of Thrones when it comes to All-Time Failures in Media.
Having said that, the truth is that it simply isn’t worth the effort to break it down in detail. Oh, I have tried, yes, I have picked and chipped at it for years in my own ways. But it isn’t worth the time to dissect any further.
And an anime is not going to change that unless they radically depart from the manga, which I doubt they will do. If anything, an anime will simply highlight all of the innumerable flaws even more brightly.
And it will not change anything. Certainly not for me. I was already planning a post talking about the concept of “canon” and how it is  outmoded in the age of Disney’s Star Wars, Star Trek Picard, and J. K. Rowling earnestly insisting that wizards just drop trow and shit on the floor before magicking it away, but that will take some time to finish and it is sort of tangential to the point here.
So, to get back to your actual question, only four things about this are really of interest to me:
I am displeased about seeing people excited for something that is objectively a rancid piece of shit, and not enthused that I will be unable to escape it without locking down my feed. But I am also not The Good Taste Police. It is not my responsibility to care what people like or why.
I am once again seeing people hurting. I don’t like that whatsoever, but there is very little I can do about it. Whatever perspective I have gained, emotionally, isn’t likely to be helpful to them. Wisdom, such as it is, cannot be taught.
I find myself wondering about the influx of people who will come into the fandom, and who will be more than likely sorely disappointed by the travesty that is that arc. (It’s going to be good news for fan fic writers, honestly.)
It has made me understand things all the more fully.
What do I mean by that last part? Well, I have been only sort of joking lately that the people I most relate to as an adult are Col. Kurtz as mentioned above, Agent Smith from The Matrix, Khan Noonien Singh from Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan, Geralt of Rivia from The Witcher, and Mike Stoklasa from Red Letter Media.
But upon reflection, I realize it isn’t limited to them. I have also really come to feel like I understand Ichigo. And I have even come to feel that I understand Kubo, through Khan.
I have come to understand Kurtz’s “madness”:
It’s impossible for words to describe what is necessary to those who do not know what horror means. Horror… Horror has a face… and you must make a friend of horror. Horror and moral terror are your friends. If they are not, then they are enemies to be feared. They are truly enemies!
I have come to understand Smith’s desire to escape:
I hate this place. This zoo. This prison. This reality, whatever you want to call it, I can’t stand it any longer. It’s the smell, if there is such a thing. I feel saturated by it. I can taste your stink and every time I do, I fear that I’ve somehow been infected by it.
I have come to understand Mike’s efforts to hold back the tides:
Mike: Captain Picard has never done a wacky accent—Rich: THEY DON’T CARE! THEY DON’T GIVE A SHIT! Mike, we are the only people that care anymore!Mike: Do you remember that—Rich: Picard is the guy who does this. [faceplam gesture] He’s—This is, this is Captain Picard’s character now for an entire—for like two generations, we’re fucking old! He's—he’s the guy who does this [facepalm gesture], and fuckin’ Patrick Stewart wants to put on an eye-patch and dance around an alien bar? Go ahead motherfucker! We’ll write that in!Mike: I-I-I hearken back to a wonderful little moment on Star Trek—Rich: Patrick Picard wants to ride a dune-buggy? Fuck yeah! Here’s a dune-buggy!Mike: Do-Do you remember—Rich: That’s how much respect they have for, for the franchise!Mike: All I’m tryin’ to say is Captain Picard would not do a wacky accent!Rich: NO, OF COURSE HE WOULDN’T! OF COURSE CAPTAIN PICARD WOULD—CAPTAIN PICARD ISN’T HERE, MIKE!Mike: He’s not there.Rich: HE’S NOT HERE! That’s all an illusion, hahaha!
I have come to understand Geralt’s tiredness.
I have come to understand Ichigo’s feelings of powerlessness in the face of the injustices of the world.
I have come to understand Khan’s rage:
I’ve done far worse than kill you. I’ve hurt you. And I wish to go on… hurting you. I shall leave you as you left me, as you left her; marooned for all eternity in the center of a dead planet… buried alive! Buried alive…!
In this last quote, I have also truly come to understand Kubo. I understand him because I want to hurt him, as he so thoroughly, persistently, and remorselessly wants to hurt us, the fans of his work. I want to go on hurting him, as he goes on hurting us. I understand him perfectly, because I want to pay him back exactly in kind.
And the best way to begin to hurt him is to let his efforts wash over me without even batting an eye. To stand in defiance. To not give a single fuck.
Even with these understandings, for me, nothing has really changed from almost four years ago. The only thing that is different is that the timeframe until I am the last man standing has been extended a little. That’s it.
You want to know my thoughts? They are simple, and they boil down to two quotes. One is again from Khan:
Joachim: They’re still running with shields down.Khan: Of course! We are one big, happy fleet! Ah, Kirk, my old friend, do you know the Klingon proverb that tells us revenge is a dish that is best served cold? It is very cold… in space!
And the other is from JFK:
Don’t get mad. Get even.
37 notes · View notes
ft-dads-au · 4 years
Text
Traces of You
Tumblr media
Stingue Week 2019 Prompt: Reminisce Home for the Holidays 2019 Prompt: Written A collaboration by @mdelpin and @oryu404​ AO3 | FF.Net Notes: This story contains lyrics from a song called ‘Time spent Walking through Memories’ and are originally written by Kim Jong-Wan, the amazingly talented lead singer of the Korean band Nell. For anyone who is interested, here is a link to the song that includes the English subtitles:  https://youtu.be/FS_WGNOufbg
November 14th, 2013 No matter how many times Rogue had come home to an empty house, he was still struck by the same feeling of desolation he felt every time he stepped over the threshold. There was no smell of food being cooked in the kitchen, no face turning away from the tv for even a brief second, just to say hello, no pair of shoes in the hallway other than the ones he had just put there himself. The only thing that greeted him was darkness and silence.
He hung up his coat in the hallway closet and flicked on the lights, then unpacked his bag. With a heavy sigh, he walked into the kitchen to rinse out his water bottle in the sink and clean his lunch box so they would be ready to use tomorrow. The house was as good as spotless, no dirty dishes or other personal belongings were lying around as he had kept everything tidy to keep himself distracted. But a spotless house was just another reminder that there wasn’t anyone but him to leave their mess behind.
Either way, he had to move on. Sitting around and feeling sorry for himself wasn’t going to do him any good, so from the moment he had said goodbye to Sting at the airport, he had tried to keep himself busy as best as he could. Today wasn’t any different, and after he had taken his textbooks and notepads out of his bag he sat down at the dinner table to do some studying.
But it was too quiet.
Rogue closed the textbook he had been blankly staring at and put it away again, not being able to focus on anything but the lack of sound surrounding him. The other chairs at the table were empty, triggering thoughts about the ones whose presence they used to mark. His father’s coat wasn’t draped over one of them for his mother to complain about as she took it off to put it where it should have been in the first place, Gray wasn’t bent over his homework in his usual seat at the other end of the table, and Sting wasn’t sitting across from him, playing footsie with him while trying to don a mask of feigned innocence.
His own chair scraped across the floor loudly as Rogue rose up to find something else to focus on, but he already knew he’d be confronted with his solitude no matter where he went or what he did.
When he ate, there was only one plate on the table, one glass of water to be filled. When he showered, Sting’s half-empty and forgotten bottle of shampoo was sitting next to his own. When he went to bed he swam in a sea of empty space and unstolen blankets, mapping the irregularities in his ceiling like constellations in the night sky. And when he curled up on the sofa to watch Netflix he was presented with the profiles of his family members who hadn’t been watching anything in a long time, with favorite picks that weren’t all his own and with suggestions to continue watching series he used to binge with someone wrapped around him.
The only thing he had left to throw himself into when he was alone, was art. Both writing and music had always been his escape from reality, letting him dissolve into worlds of his own creation. He went to his room and grabbed his guitar, carefully tuning it as he sat at the edge of his bed. Mindlessly plucking at the strings for a while, he eventually found a melody that embraced the gloom he was carrying around, and before he knew it, it started leading a life of its own.
Rogue wasn’t sure what made him decide to grab his phone and record the song he had composed on a whim, or why he felt the sudden urge to provide it with a set of lyrics. He had written songs for Phantom Lord before, but always in collaboration with Gajeel. This was all his own doing, a solo-project born from the emotions he had refused to fully surrender to.
But now he had opened the hatch and everything came pouring out like a rainstorm, as memories and sentiments were taking the shape of words hastily scribbled onto a piece of paper.
And surrender he did.
Even now, I still hear your voice Even now, I still feel your touch And today I lived within traces of you
Even now, I still see you Even now, I still feel your warmth And today I lived within your time
In the shape of a stranger passing by on the street, In the desolate dance of the fall leaves playing in the wind Even in the evening air that grazes my cheek In everything I see, hear and feel You’re there
So how about you, how about you? Are you feeling the same? How about you?
At the empty chair, discarded by the roadside In the glass of water I thoughtlessly raise to my lips Even in the mirror I face to see myself Even in the gentle music that sits in my ear You’re there
What do I do now, what do I do now? You must have erased me So what do we do now?
Rogue put his pen down and stared at the words that had just flowed out and onto the paper, playing back the recording to let the sounds of his guitar merge with them inside his head. The last notes had yet to die out when he crumpled up the paper and tossed it across his room, and the pen right after it. Not because it wasn’t good enough- it might just be the best song he had ever written- but because it was way more than what he was willing to share with anyone. This was just too personal, and upon realizing what he had just tapped into, Rogue was faced with the sad truth.
He wasn’t moving on at all.
Instead, he had been walking around in memories, unable to let go of what could have been but wasn’t meant to be.
But enough was enough, so he made a radical decision. In a sudden fit of resentment, he tossed the guitar onto his bed and stormed out of the room. He found an empty box in the laundry room that he took with him under one arm as he went through the house and filled it with everything Sting had left behind.
A pair of sunglasses from the kitchen’s clutter drawer, a winter scarf from the hallway closet, the bottle of shampoo from the bathroom, a comic book that had fallen behind the bed, and one lost sock that Rogue had kept in his sock drawer for no rationally explainable reason.
All that was left as a tangible reminder of his presence in Rogue’s life was a slew of pictures and text messages on his phone, and that was up last to be removed. Rogue dumped the box on the floor and picked up the phone from his bed, where he had left it after replaying the song he had recorded. Since the application was still open, it was the first thing to go, deleted without being given a second thought.
The pictures were up next, but there were so many of them, and as Rogue selected them one by one he was taken back to the times when those pictures were taken.
Delete selected items?
Rogue's thumb hovered above the screen in a few moments of hesitation, because although these pictures were painful to look at now, they were also keepsakes from precious moments. But before he could make a decision, another screen popped up that made him hold his breath.
Incoming call: Sting Eucliffe
Rogue stared at the screen unsure of what to do. Perhaps this was the sign he’d been waiting for. His chance to make a clean break of it all. All he had to do was tell Sting that they needed to just stop. Talking, texting, all of it.
The ringtone he’d chosen for Sting as a joke rang in his ears, reminding him of yet another moment they’d shared. He was going to do it. He took one deep shaky breath, bolstering himself for the conversation that was bound to be uncomfortable. He swiped his finger to accept the call.
"Hey."
"Hey…uhm, is this a bad time?"
Rogue had to bite back a 'You have no idea', but he managed to keep himself in check and act like nothing was wrong.
"No, it's fine."
"Okay…so, how's your day?"
Rogue looked at the box that lay at his feet and almost laughed, "About the same as usual.”
Even through the awkwardness in Sting’s words, Rogue could sense something was up and despite his intentions, he couldn’t help but be curious.
“Right, uhm so listen, I can’t talk long but I wanted to ask you something.”
Rogue’s heart began to beat faster as he detected the underlying excitement in Sting’s voice. “Ask?”
“Yeah, my parents want to know if you’d like to spend the holidays with us, you know, visit Edolas over break.”
“They do?” Rogue felt like an idiot, but he was so surprised by the turn the conversation had taken that he couldn’t seem to put any words together.
“They wanted to thank you for everything you did for me when I was over there, and well you know, I wouldn’t mind seeing you again,” Sting chuckled nervously.
Rogue stared at the wall in disbelief. Visit over the holidays? And that last bit, it almost sounded like Sting missed him too. He looked down at the box again, frowning as he tapped it with his foot.
He listened absently as Sting continue to babble on with his usual exuberance about the things they could do and how fun it would be, all of his previous awkwardness disappearing as he described places Rogue had never heard of, and people he’d never met.
“So, uhm, what do you think?”
Rogue blinked at the question, not sure of how long Sting had been waiting for him to respond.
“I’d have to speak to my parents about it first,” Rogue lied, cursing himself, knowing Sting would immediately recognize it for what it was. But what choice did he have, five minutes ago he’d been considering cutting all ties and now he was being invited to visit? He couldn’t really process this right now.
He hated the disappointment he heard in Sting’s voice when he responded, “Oh, alright. That makes sense I guess. Give me a call when you know so I can tell my parents whether to buy a ticket or not.”
“Sting?” Rogue wanted to say something that would somehow save this conversation from the disaster it had become but he was still too conflicted so all he could manage was, “Thank you for the invite. I’ll call you soon.”
“Okay, I look forward to it,” Sting replied, sounding awkward once again, and Rogue recognized the switch to more formal language for what it was. He may not have spoken the words he’d meant to say at the beginning of the conversation, but the message had gotten through regardless.
As the call ended Rogue couldn’t help but feel the house closing in on him again. He grabbed the scarf from the box, running the fabric through his fingers, wanting to touch something that made him feel closer to Sting.
He wrapped it around his neck thinking about the upcoming holidays, and how he would be alone once again. Last year there had been no tree, no big Christmas dinner, no singing carols, and no skating in their backyard pond which had fallen into disrepair after his parents had left. Nothing but Rogue, and Netflix.
But he didn’t have to do that again, not if he didn’t want to. This year he had a choice. The question was, should he take it?
He knew what he should choose, but listening to Sting’s voice had cinched it for him. He wasn’t quite ready to let go yet. And if he chose to visit, maybe they could find a way to make things work despite the distance that would be between them again once it was time for him to return home.
With that thought in mind, he unwrapped the scarf from his neck, tossing it back into the box. From the corner of his eye, he could see the crumpled up sheet of paper. He picked it up and smoothed out the creases to his best ability before folding it twice and adding it to the box. Instead of dumping all its contents in the trash like he had planned to do, he walked over to his open closet, finding a spot on one of his shelves to plop it on. Likewise, he refrained from deleting the pictures on his phone. He would hold off for a little while, and after he returned from his visit he would make his final decision.
Remembering that Sting had said he couldn’t talk for long, Rogue brought up the messaging app on his phone.
I’d love to
He chuckled at the almost immediate response full of so many emojis, it made him worry for Sting’s sanity. And with something to look forward to he found the house no longer felt so empty. 
(PS, by DivineBurrito: ) I love this band and this is one of the first songs from them I fell in love with, but I can recommend their other work as well! Thank you for reading!
18 notes · View notes
matildainmotion · 5 years
Text
A Fairy Tale School, and A Chance to Change the Story
Once upon a time there was a very special school. It was the flagship Steiner school, the longest-running one in the UK, on the edge of a great forest. Let me tell you about it.
The grounds are stunning – great old oaks, rolling lawns, deer, a stream, an iron spring. The facilities are amazing – a big gym, a proper theatre, a huge vegetable garden, a carpentry workshop, even a forge where you can make a real sword which they showed us on the school tour, the jewellery, the axes and blades that students had made in the fire, like something straight out of a story. I could see my son, the proud owner of three lightsabres, being happy there. My husband and I are theatre-makers and writers: story is the stuff of our work, and here was an educational system with stories at its heart - fairy tales, fables, saints’ tales, Norse and Greek myths, shaping the curriculum.
So we went for it. Like many others we made momentous changes in order to bring our son, now aged 7, to this school, and in time my daughter too, now aged 2. My mother sold the family home after 55 years so that she could buy a small house in Forest Row where she and I and the children could live. My husband had to stay in London because of work – we’d see him at weekends and in the holidays. It would be hard but it was worth it, for the school. I have heard many similar tales – of people coming from much further afield than London, from Japan, from America so their children can come here.
To make such major changes people are following big dreams, high ideals, deeply held convictions. What are mine? I do not necessarily want ‘the best for my children’ – I think ‘best-ness’ is overrated. Coming from a family of highly powered Oxford academics I tried to be the best and get the best for many years and it left me in a mess. I want rather to give my children a good chance of coming out of school in one piece, whole, connected to themselves, to a community, not ready for the big wide world – that old narrative of adventure and conquest – but rather already in it, present in the world and ready to care for it and each other as well as they can in these uncertain times. Wholeness, community and connection, an ability to be vulnerable and to act from a place of integrity - those were the things I was after when we upped and moved ourselves here at the end of last summer, ready for the start of the new school year.
Very soon after our arrival on the edge of Ashdown Forest, full of hope, I was struck by the amount of cynicism I encountered. I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised – where you find dreams that big, you are going to find disappointment on a similar scale. In the woods where Winnie the Pooh lives, there also dwells Eyeore: “Your son’s going to Michael Hall? Oh well, good luck with that – I hope he fares better than me, but I doubt he will,” – heavy sigh, returns to thistles and damp, lonely corner. The pessimism, juxtaposed with the optimistic dreams that also surround the school, have reminded me not only of Eyeore’s gloom but even a level up - the desperate, intractable situations found in many fairytales and myths: the most beautiful king’s daughter that has fallen terribly sick and cannot be cured; the monster that haunts the lands that were once full of wonder; the evil empire that is trying to take over the universe and kill off the amazing Jedi.
Meanwhile, sometimes all is well in the woods, the kingdom, the universe. Peace reigns. I have heard hopeful stories too. I was amazed and encouraged by how many parents are old scholars. I am much more used to the narrative of “I am never letting my child go through what I had to endure” than the story of “I had such a great time at school, I want the same for my little one.” My son was and is having a good time in class one. He is an intense lad, with big emotions and grand ideas, and so far the school have been very quick to respond to his needs and challenges. His teacher is wonderful and there is a gradually growing sense of community amongst the parents of the class. For all of this I am deeply grateful.
As far as I can tell, from the anecdotes I have gathered in the short time I have been here, the school is brilliant until it isn’t - until something goes wrong, until the monster/ sickness/ evil fairy turns up. I realize this is tautological – the problems begin when the problems begin – but problems will always show up, so the true problem is not the monster but how we respond to it. All too often our knee jerk response is to blame another, and with this ‘us’ and ‘them’-ness kicks in, the good guys and the baddies, the innocents and the guilty. First off, inside this story we are in, there is the parent body versus the school – ‘us’ being the parents and ‘them’ being the school - how the school does not listen and never changes. I have encountered the story the other way round too- the school versus the parents – the parents who are always complaining, ready to attack, but rarely listen, or turn up in low numbers when the school has tried to lay on an event in response to a parent request. I have also heard about internal ‘us’ and ‘them’ dynamics: the teachers versus the management and an iteration of the same story and Eyeore-like complaint, “They never listen. No one understands.”
I tried to learn more about the structure of the school and found it incredibly difficult. Even those who have apparently been here for many years could not easily explain to me how it actually operates. I gathered there were different elements- a council, trustees, an Education Management Team, teachers, office staff – but how these positions fitted together and ran everything remained mysterious, a kind of tangled thicket of roles growing around the mansion and keeping princes and parents from being able to break in and have any impact. I had come in quest of wholeness, connection, community, integrity and I was finding people who felt disempowered, fractured and stuck.
           In the absence of any head teacher, a hallmark of traditional Steiner schools, from the way people talked ‘The School’ had become in itself a kind of mythical authority figure, hard to reach and impossible to change. I like a challenge and I am not very good at cynicism (though I do a good line in imagining terrible happenings and did, in fact, identify with Eyeore as a child) so I joined the Parents Working Group (PWG) to see if I could make a positive contribution to the school. I had spent the first term feeling like a failure as a Steiner parent because I cannot sew to save my life, had to buy instead of make my son’s crayon roll and could be of very little help in crafting anything for the Advent Fair, so I figured I had better find another way to play my part in the school community.
           When I told people about the PWG and its aim to initiate and hold space for constructive dialogue with the school and support positive change, I was hit by a fresh wave of cynicism: “Ah, be careful the school will take all it can get from you, suck you dry and spit you out!”; “Well, good luck with that. You might make a small dent in its side but that’ll be it!” So there we have it – the school as the monster, the dragon that can devour you and that has such massive scaly flanks it can barely be dented, despite the beautiful swords that its pupils forge on its grounds. Or the school as an institution wrapped in creepers and thickets, under a heavy curse that cannot be lifted.
           Enter stage right a strange knight in heavy armour with clipboards for shields and a knife of regulation, an outsider, called Sir Ofsted - hero or villain? He rode from the city to the woods, slashed through the thickets, confronted the dragon, gave Sleeping Beauty an “Inadequate” kiss – blessing or further curse? - and lo and behold we all woke up. And, as in the original story, everyone woke up: the kings, the courtiers, the cooks and the gardeners, the parents, the teachers and the management. After 100 years of Steiner education we all have an amazing chance to wake up and decide what happens now, shape how the story unfolds from here. Let me pause at this cliff hanger to introduce a new strand of narrative.
           15 years ago my husband, Phelim McDermott, was feeling fed up. He works in theatre. He runs a company called Improbable, which makes big shows and tiny ones, with improvisation at their core. He had dedicated his whole life to theatre, he felt passionate about it, and he spent much of his time complaining about it. He was often angry about how it was carried out, about how people did not listen to each other and things did not change (notice the parallels to our other story). He was doubly fed up – frustrated by the ways things were done and frustrated by hearing himself moan about it but unable to do anything effective. He came across a book: Open Space Technology, A User’s Guide by Harrison Owen. It described a way for groups to self-organise around issues of shared concern, a way that was radically non-hierarchical, refreshingly playful, able to cut to the heart of complex situations really fast and allow truths to emerge and change to begin. He thought he would give it a go. It sounded like a good improvisation exercise. He followed the instructions in the book and wrote an invitation (step 1). He called it ‘Devoted and Disgruntled’ because that’s what he was feeling. It’s a good title and if I could I would steal it to use here at Michael Hall for all the many deeply devoted and disgruntled people whom I have met here. To his amazement and delight people responded to his invitation – about 200 people turned up (step 2). And it was incredible. Now, instead of the constant moaning, people were getting to work, fuelled by their passion and devotion, connecting, taking action, agreeing on change (step 3). 15 years later Devoted and Disgruntled has transformed the landscape of the performing arts in the UK. We have run literally hundreds of Open Space events under this banner, in every corner of the country and even overseas. We have an entire website dedicated to this great, unfolding conversation. Check it out: www.devotedanddisgruntled.com. Some people worry that it is ‘just’ a conversation, a talking shop – but almost all change starts with a conversation and an enormous number of actions have come out of our Open Spaces: shows made, companies formed, new initiatives, collaborations, even marriages (my own included) have emerged out of our events. It is an amazing practice, a brilliant tool – not a sword, but a circle, an open space.
           Having witnessed first hand the impact of opening space on the UK theatre scene, how it harnesses the devotion and helps to shift the disgruntlement, I want to bring it here, to our school, now in this moment more than ever. I think it holds the power of a forge – the hot, glowing place that can make hard things soft and malleable again, where change and transformation is possible. And yet it is beautifully simple. You send out an invite. (I have done this– it was in the last Friday Flier (You can read it here: http://www.michaelhall.co.uk/friday-flier) People who want to be there come along. We sit in a circle and a facilitator explains how it works – anyone who wants to call a session can do so, by writing the title on a piece of paper and putting it up on the wall. Together we co-create an agenda. Then we get to work and we follow the magical and yet entirely pragmatic ‘law of two feet’: you don’t stay where you don’t want to be, you follow yourself and go where your time and energy will be best used, and only you know where that is. This is the radical non-hierarchy of it – the fixed roles can fall away and a new fluidity is possible. Not ‘us’ and ‘them’ but me and you, listening to each other and having a conversation on an issue about which we both care deeply and on which we both want to act.
           There are many things that I am sure need to change within the school, but fundamentally, for me, the underlying shift that needs to happen is a cultural one. I think we need to start to model the sense of agency and possibility that I am sure we all hope the education is giving to our children. We need to wake up inside the story and notice how we are part of shaping it – we are not passive victims of a terrible curse from a wicked fairy or an evil dragon, or at least as well as playing the part of the victim, there are times when we also step into the role of the dragon, steam coming out of our ears, and curses falling out of our mouths. Notice these. And this fire, these strong words, whomever they come from – teacher, parent, manager - are not bad. They are potent, they are passionate and they are integral to our ability to bring about change.
When my son was in Kindergarten, at another Steiner school in London, he came home one day, in his first term, with a complaint. It was Michaelmas and they had been told a story about a dragon, “But the dragon didn’t do much! It wasn’t scary enough. They tamed it too quickly.” So there we have it. In opening space I don’t want to tame all the dragons. I want them to come. All of them. I want the dragons, I want the kings and the queens, the princes and princesses, I want the peasants, the wicked stepmothers, the caring fathers, the confounded leaders, wise teachers, the witches, the wolves. If you identify with any of these roles, please come. If I have left your role off the list please come and put it on there – make sure it is part of the story. Because right now we have an incredible opportunity to shape what happens next – this is in fact always true, but thanks to the dubious Sir Ofsted we just all managed to notice it.
I am not looking for a happy-ever-after ending. Or even an ‘outstanding-ever-after.’ I want what I wanted when I and my family decided to move here: I want connected-ever-after. Actually even ‘ever-after’ sounds like rather a high demand from which we might all come crashing down with a sense of failure. I will settle for connected-a-good-deal-of-the-time, whole as much as possible, in community through the rough and the smooth. What do you want? How do you wish your story and the school’s story to unfold from here? I am inviting you to come and tell me, and others. Because telling is the beginning of making. Making is the start of happening. The details of the dates and the times are here- http://www.michaelhall.co.uk/pwg- I look forward to seeing you there and to hearing your tales and those of others – the more diverse the better - and to us creating a new one together.
11 notes · View notes