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#he was merely there to assist her character but all the development and focus was on sanyoung
yioh · 9 months
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THEY R DATING THAT IS MY VERDICT
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sunder-the-gold · 1 year
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[Kaiju No.8] The character development of Mina Ashiro
I think Mina Ashiro actually gets as much character development as Kikoru Shinomiya, if not more. It's just far more scattered, with some of the juiciest bits coming after Kikoru's.
This makes the individual pieces easier to forget and harder to collect into a clear picture.
Especially if you've been reading the manga bi-weekly for the last three years, rather than binging it in one week.
Chapter 1
We’re first introduced to Mina as this lonesome badass who killed a giant monster before the public announcement system could even finish warning the civilians to evacuate. She’s committed to her job and effective at it.
Her second appearance contrasts her against her subordinates. They accept the adulation of the crowds and wave back, but she’s facing straight forward and her mind is turned inward. She’s an introvert, not an extrovert, or else something weighs heavily on her heart. She doesn’t care about the signs waving her name around.
But while she’s amazingly powerful and mentally far away, the smears of blood and filth on her cheek and armor symbolically bring her down to earth. These imperfections show that she’s not untouchable, or afraid of getting dirty, or being seen in less than perfect condition. At the same time, the fact that she’s not tried to wipe away the mess on her face underscores how far away her mind is from her current situation.
Kafka observes that Mina’s division leaves such a dangerous mess of the kaiju they kill that the cleaners have a hard time telling the organs apart. Mina either doesn’t care, doesn’t know, or considers it a fair price for the cleaners to pay for the swiftness of her methods.
When she appears on television, the shot is a repeat of her walking through the crowds with her inward focus, but she’s been cleaned up. Letting eyewitnesses see her dirty is fine, but she or someone with authority doesn’t want a visual recording of such imperfection. Or it might have been the reporters digitally editing the visual record, which they had all day to do.
The report tells us that she’s only 27 years old (5 years younger than Kafka), but credits her with making Division 3 so effective and with neutralizing hundreds of kaiju. She’s pretty, she’s popular, she's successful, and her career only promises to get better.
But Kafka remembers her as a little girl who’d lost her home, struggling through her tears to put on a strong face.
When he remembers that moment again, he remembers how Mina mourned the death of her cat, or at least of a cat she knew.
In the present day, Mina once again displays her dedication to her job by arriving within minutes of the sirens going off. Also, she’s filled the void of the dead calico with a white tiger.
Mina pulls off her breather-mask to reveal the fullness of her disappointment in Kafka. She arrived soon enough to save his life and to see him broken and being protected by someone younger.
She did not arrive soon enough to see Kafka’s heroism in saving the younger man first and fighting bravely against impossible odds.
Despite her disappointment, she maintains her professionalism. She doesn’t say a word to Kafka, only issuing orders to her men to assist the wounded and help her look for any other kaiju in the area. She turns her back on Kafka and gets back to her life without him. She rides off on the tiger's back, side-saddle like a lady wearing a skirt despite wearing pants.
Chapter 2
Because of her chance encounter with Kafka, Mina remembers back when she felt daunted by the thought of fighting giant kaiju, and how Kafka comforted her with a promise that he would fight by her side when the time came.
She compares that older memory to the more recent memory of his broken and helpless state as a mere civilian, and bitterly calls him a liar.
But she once again sets aside her personal feelings to answer the call to exterminate a lowly, small-scale yonju. A task that she could have delegated to her subordinates. She was, after all, off the clock and taking a bath. She's at her off-duty home, not the barracks.
Chapter 4
Mina's vice-captain observes that she normally doesn't show any interest in things outside of killing kaiju. But Mina noticed that Kafka is among the candidates for the entrance exam, so she surprises her vice-captain by asking him to elaborate on the "interesting folks" that Kafka will compete against.
Chapter 5
Mina arrives to take part in proctoring Kafka's final exam, while taking care not to show undue interest.
Chapter 6
Mina instantly pays attention the moment that Kafka is felled by a kaiju, but she maintains a poker face and doesn't otherwise react. She trusts Hoshina to activate Kafka's shields if necessary.
Her expression becomes more closed off as Kafka insists on continuing with the test despite his injuries.
After Kikoru finishes the test, Mina surprises Hoshina by revealing Mina was familiar with the younger woman's reputation.
Chapter 9
To meet Kafka face-to-face, Mina takes the excuse of thanking Kafka and Reno for saving Kikoru.
But rather than walking right in to do only that, she takes the opportunity to listen in on Kafka speaking his mind to Reno. She wants to know what's on Kafka's mind.
Chapter 10
When the test examiners pronounce Kafka a failure and ask Mina for any objections, she hesitates. She knows she cannot afford to say anything without it looking like favoritism, but she has to fight the urge to say anything that would help.
She also might not trust herself to be objective about Kafka. Not like she trusts Hoshina's judgment of the man's suitability.
Chapter 11
The other men at the baths demand that Kafka reveal more about Mina's childhood. Among other things, Kafka tells them that "when she was in grade school, she used to take care of the animals". The class pets. After the loss of her pet calico, Mina sought other pets. Today, she has an adult white tiger.
Chapter 14
"Well, Kakfa. Here's what I'm like now."
There's a difference between humiliating a man and challenging him. At no point does Mina demean or degrade or insult or belittle Kafka. She doesn't set him up for a failure or draw the attention of others to him failing at something.
Instead, she makes a spectacle of herself. She shows Kafka the bar he needs to clear to even begin making good on his childhood challenge. Her display stands on its own as a gauntlet he can pick up or ignore, because only he (and Soshiro Hoshina) would even know what she meant by it.
If she humiliated anyone, it was the kaiju she double-tapped after it was already dead.
Chapter 21
Mina has a good enough relationship with Soshiro Hoshina to claim that "It's rare to see you in a slump."
She also doesn't once berate him for his failure. She trusts he did his best, and so merely asks for clarification about Number 8's strength. Was it really that strong, or did Hoshina fail because of some outside factor?
It's only after her vice-captain jokes that she caught him in his "least dignified moment" that she allows herself a show of humor, by taking a photograph of the occasion.
But despite being a long-range specialist, Mina takes the responsibility of hunting for Number 8 on herself, while ordering Hoshina to rest.
Chapter 23
Mina holds a private, one-on-one ceremony where she personally swears Kafka in as an officer.
We the audience already know that Mina remembers and values their childhood promise, but this is where she makes it clear to Kafka himself that she does.
When Kafka gets sucked into their old style of childhood banter and forgets to maintain decorum, she gives him one of those rare smiles that only Hoshina has ever thought he might have seen.
This is, in fact, only the second time we've ever seen her smile as an adult, both times because of Kafka wearing his heart on his sleeve and reaffirming his promise to her. (Actually, aren't all of her childhood flashback smiles because of Kafka, too?)
Of course, Mina still punishes him for the breach of decorum, because she cannot afford to show him any favoritism.
Which is why it is important to her that Hoshina advocated for Kafka, and that Kafka know this. She wants these two men to respect and appreciate each other.
Chapter 29
With Hoshina, Mina shows us that she's willing to admit her weaknesses, even when (judging by her blush) doing so clearly embarrasses her.
She's willing to ask others to cover her weaknesses, and she's willing to take a chance on someone whose specialty is currently "off-meta". She could have chosen someone with more balanced abilities to support her, but she went with someone whom no one else was willing to trust.
In some ways, it seems to me that Mina replaced Kafka with Hoshina. She would have extended the same kind of trust to Kafka, but he wasn't there, so she needed to rely on someone else to fight by her side.
In the present day, after she joins the battle, her first action is to give words of praise and encouragement to her vice-captain and division.
This is the first time we see Mina angry. Veins visibly throb on her face from the rage of seeing kaiju attack her people while she was gone.
Chapter 30
Every word she speaks to her people is encouragement, gratitude, and praise. "Thank you, Hoshina. I'm truly glad I picked you as my vice-captain."
Every time she focuses on Number 10, her veins throb with rage.
Chapter 31
She calls Hoshina's bluff and insists he rest after his fight with Number 10.
Chapter 32
After saving everyone, Kafka's arms and legs are shot. He's immobile and helpless.
Mina could have shot him dead and her superiors would have praised her for it. Her division would have accepted she made the right call, even if they quietly harbored doubts.
But she calls Kafka by name first, before catching herself and addressing him as a monster. And then she spares his life and takes him into custody.
Chapter 33
It isn't until Mina and Kafka are alone that she dares speak to him like a person.
"When you dashed in to save the base without a moment's hesitation, I was shocked to see you as a kaiju. But I also thought...
"This is such a Kafka move." I think there's some faint exasperation on her face.
She then reassures him that she's done everything she can to prepare a case to vouch for his humanity and his usefulness to the defense force's leadership.
She additionally reveals that she took a roll-call to verify that no one in her division considers Kafka an enemy.
And when Kafka asks for permission to still fulfill their childhood promise, she gives him her third small adult smile.
"Sure. I'll be waiting."
And she lets him cry without condemnation.
Chapter 38
While Kafka recovers from his fight with Director-General Isao Shinomiya, he recalls a childhood memory:
Little Mina crying over her dead cat; wailing with grief.
Chapter 39
Mina promptly informs her subordinates of command's decision to spare Kafka's life. She now dares to publicly refer to him by his human name rather than his kaiju designation.
Chapter 56
Mina listens to Okonogi's reasonable concerns about the risks involved with weaponizing Kaiju No.10 while leaving its consciousness so intact.
But just as Mina took a chance on making Hoshina her vice-captain, she's willing to stake her career on his decision to take the risk. Mina explicitly calls it a "wager".
Chapter 57
Perhaps to reward Hoshina for the risk he's taking, she allows him to personally attend the Anti-'Kaiju No.9' Conference in her stead. This allows him to visibly receive the most credit for the information he bought humanity.
At the conference itself, Mina displays outright disdain for fellow-captain Gen Narumi.
We've seen her disappointed at Kafka, back in Chapter 2. But we've never seen her openly and publicly insult anyone before.
She not only tells the second division captain that reprimanding Narumi about his decorum is pointless, she goes on to say, "We all know that the only redeeming talent Narumi has is slaying kaiju."
Earlier in this chapter, Narumi's vice-captain informed us that the First Division and Third Division "get along like cats and dogs". Given that it's Hoshina on the ground bearing his fangs at Narumi, and not Mina, we might have thought this quarreling goes on despite her wishes.
But with her opinion of Narumi clearly revealed, Mina might actually be part of the reason why the two divisions mutually hate each other.
(So if Kafka develops a friendship with the man who is currently his captain, that could put him in a humorously uncomfortable position between Narumi and Mina.)
Chapter 58
Mina and Hoshina worked together to collate Number 10's information with the data they already had, and prepared a proposal for the defense force's strategy going forward. If her vice-captain is willing to risk so much for the information, Mina wants to ensure that information is put to the best use.
Mina also recommends Reno Ichikawa be trained to use their ultimate weapon: Gear No.6.
Chapter 64
Despite her own recommendation, Mina deliberately sent Reno Ichikawa to captain Ogata for the training.
"I don't want him to die. You're the leeriest about the use of Numbered Weapons, so I wanted to get your opinion on the matter."
Chapter 69
Mina just happens to be taking her lunch at the same place Kafka goes for the same. I suspect she planned that.
Even after Kafka chickens out from eating lunch with her, Mina calls him on it and invites him over.
Kafka has no idea how to reconnect with her, but she brushes aside his attempt at pleasant small-talk because she's already got something on her mind she wants to share.
Mina joined the defense force to protect the peace she lost the day that kaiju destroyed her home. She's older, stronger, more famous now, but her singular goal remains protecting the everyday peace enjoyed by ordinary people.
She enjoys little moments like this, to let herself believe that a future of peace is possible.
Mina gives Kafka her fourth little smile, even before he makes her laugh by slipping up on decorum again. But she also tells him to relax; she only insists on decorum between them when they're not alone.
She's not talking to him as a captain, but as a childhood friend. And as a childhood friend, she's deeply concerned.
She touches on their shared history, of how much Kafka worked as a child to look out for her, keep her hopes alive, no matter how scared he actually felt (and no matter how embarrassing it was). She greatly admired that about him, and tells him he's still the same as an adult.
That's why she's concerned about what Kafka told Hoshina: About how he knew what the doctors said about the risk of his condition getting worse if he continued to transform, and how Kafka intended to keep transforming to fight regardless.
So she's trying to tell Kafka now: I'VE changed. I'm stronger now. You're trying so hard to catch up to 'me' I am now, but I'm the one who caught up to the 'you' of back then.
"I don't need to hide behind you, anymore. So you don't have to bear the weight alone. We made a promise, didn't we? We said we would wipe out the kaiju TOGETHER."
But he shuts her out, and she sees the moment that his heart closes. The look she gives him before she turns away is the saddest we've ever seen her as an adult.
'He hasn't changed a bit. And neither has that smile he flashes when he's pushing himself too hard.'
Mina didn't want Reno to throw his life away using Gear No.6, and so sent him to the one captain who was most likely to deny him the opportunity. Similarly, she wanted to convince Kafka to consider himself more, and to not throw himself away for the sake of their promise.
Instead, he rejected her plea, and the two of them made their own separate promises. Unspoken, unarticulated: Each promised themselves to try harder for the sake of the other.
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xb-squaredx · 2 years
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Xenoblade Chronicles 3 Review: The Best of Both Worlds
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Monolith Soft knows a lot about ambition. From their early days as a game developer, they’ve always strived for more. With ambition however, there’s often compromise. For co-founder Testuya Takahashi, his vision has often been unfulfilled despite his best efforts. From Xenogears’ infamous second disc, to Xenosaga being cancelled partway through the six planned entries, and even with Nintendo’s own Xenoblade franchise there have been issues that held the games back. Xenoblade Chronicles wasn’t initially localized outside of Japan, Xenoblade Chronicles X was both on the ill-fated Wii U, but also had re-writes that severely impacted the story, and Xenoblade Chronicles 2 was made with a skeleton crew, as Monolith Soft was also assisting with two major Nintendo games (Breath of the Wild and Splatoon 2) that would launch in the same year. Despite all the hardship, Xenoblade has become a bona-fide franchise and with the latest release, Xenoblade Chronicles 3, we might be getting a look at Monolith Soft when the shackles can finally release and they can complete their vision without compromise.
FIGHT TO LIVE, LIVE TO FIGHT
Something to address right away: it is perfectly OK to play Xenoblade Chronicles 3 without having played any prior game. While connections exist, the focus is on the world and characters introduced in this game, and while having extra context is nice and you might notice some references to past entries, it is far from required reading. With that said….
In the world of Aionios, there is nothing but war. Two factions, Keves and Agnus, are locked in an eternal struggle. They don’t fight for resources or politics; they fight and kill because it is the only way they can stay alive. These factions find themselves at the mercy of the Flame Clock, a measurement of their remaining life force. Though they must also eat and sleep, they too must take the lives of the enemy faction to keep their own Flame Clock filled. The people of Aionios learn to fight from the moment they are born, and have frighteningly short life spans, or “terms,” of roughly ten years. Should they make it to their tenth term, they are taken before their queen for a Homecoming ceremony, returned to her and laid to rest. A life of nothing but fighting, no one questions the natural order…until one faithful day.
Six soldiers, three from Keves and three from Agnus, find themselves on an unorthodox mission and end up meeting a man named Guernica, who is far older than anyone they have ever seen before. He tells them of a “true enemy” and that the world was once different, though it isn’t long before the group is attacked by this enemy: Moebius. Though fatally wounded in the battle, Guernica bestows a strange power to the six youths, enabling them to fight back against Moebius and give the world a fighting chance to set things right. With both factions branding them as traitors and Moebius also working to hunt them down, it is up to an unlikely ensemble to shatter the nightmarish status quo and find out what it really means to live.
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Xenoblade 3 at times is the darkest entry in the franchise to date. A somber atmosphere, the game doesn’t shy away from the horrors of war. The fact that most characters in the game are basically child soldiers is merely the tip of the iceberg. Each of the main cast have experienced trauma from the constant fighting, from the people they’ve lost and what they’ve had to do just to survive in the nightmare of Moebius’ creation. Noah and Mio, our main leads, are off-seers, tasked with sending off those that die in battle, so they are both the closest to death among the main cast but also the ones who are quickest to set aside their differences in an effort to set the world to rights. Noah is a lot more philosophical about life and death throughout the game; despite being against fighting if he sees another option, he’ll still take up arms if he sees no other choice. Mio meanwhile is fairly restrained and kindhearted, but is constantly weighed down by the knowledge that she is on her final term, with roughly three months left to live at the game’s start, giving her a sense of urgency to complete the group’s mission before it is too late. That’s not to say the game can’t have more light-hearted moments though; though not to the extent of Xenoblade 2 there are often characters and missions with a more laidback, comedic bent which serve to mostly balance out the otherwise bleak setting, and leave us with memorable secondary characters. Despite the dark setting, there is a sense of optimism that shines through and keeps the game from being too exhaustingly bleak. On top of that, it might just have the best main cast in the series.
A goal for the development team was to flesh out the main cast, to not have any one “main character” that took up the bulk of screen time and development, which is definitely something the other Xenoblade games have been guilty of in the past. While Noah and Mio are given a bit more focus in the core plot, the rest of the group aren’t far behind and have their own effects on the narrative at various points. Lanz, easy to write-off as the hotheaded idiot of the team, works through his own trauma throughout the game and has to come to grips with letting go of his past if he wants to walk forward. Eunie, a brash if well-meaning friend of Noah and Lanz, struggles with strange visions that haunt her and give some eerie implications into the greater setting. She also has some of the funniest lines in the whole game. Taion, who I feared would quickly fall into a route “smarmy know-it-all” archetype displays a fair amount of depth early on. Despite being among the least-pleased with working with his former enemy, he’s smart enough to rein it in and at least attempt to get along with everyone. Despite taking a lot of pride in his strategic prowess and at times coming across as stoic, his more emotional moments lead to both some of the more touching parts of the game, and also some of the funniest. Sena, at least initially, came across as a bit lacking. She’s the plucky girl who seems to be Mio’s personal cheerleader; however her development is more subtle. Despite being driven and powerful in her own right, she lacks confidence in herself and is constantly seeking validation. She sees herself reflected in other characters throughout the game, and eventually learns of her own self-worth, though I do feel that quests ostensibly meant to be focused on her aren’t always keeping her in the forefront, so it isn’t perfect.
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While the main cast feels more fleshed out than any previous Xenoblade game, I do feel that the antagonists are a tad undercooked as a result. Moebius are billed as hedonistic monsters who orchestrate the eternal war behind the scenes mostly out of boredom. They pointedly refer to this all as a game, and have no real respect for any life but their own. While easily detestable, I do feel that the vast majority of Moebius lack depth, coming across more so as Monster of the Week styled obstacles than real characters. Coming off of the villains of Xenoblade 2, in my eyes the strongest antagonists in the franchise, this is definitely disappointing. Then again, seeing as Torna in Xenoblade 2 was a tight-knit group of five, it was far easier to flesh them out compared to Moebius’ 25 members. They went with quantity over quality, but even with the “main” members that received larger focus, I do feel that the game fumbles a bit at giving us villains that are all that memorable. While I want to avoid outright spoilers, I do have to mention I find the ending also loses a bit of steam. The game has a real emotional and narrative high point and…kind of runs on fumes after a while; though I think the ending is strong enough. I do feel there are more unanswered questions with this game when the credits roll, and some moments that don’t make much sense if you stop to think about them. Xenoblade 3 at points seems to be going for a more thematic, symbolic story than an overtly logical one, so I can let a few things slide. Seeing as there is story DLC coming next year though, it is possible the closure and explanations I yearn for are a ways off.
On the whole though, I think Xenoblade 3’s story is very well done. An interesting hook at the start, a steady supply of new developments that push things forward, with a large variety of interesting characters and the best main cast in the series yet, even with the ending stumbling a bit. Monolith Soft seems to have taken a lot of the criticisms of the English dub of Xenoblade 2 to heart here as well, as the English performances are excellent across the board. Lip synching also applies to either the Japanese or English audio tracks, so we no longer have the more awkward moments from Xenoblade 2 where things didn’t even remotely match up. As far as other aspects of the presentation go, Xenoblade 3 continues to push what should be possible on hardware as old as the Switch. Vast landscapes filled with things to see and do never fail to impress, while the overall character models are expressive and detailed. The main cast can even get dirty when out exploring, with a dedicated option to wash clothes when at camp. What the game might lack in high-fidelity textures it often makes up for in its strong art direction and expressive anime cel-shaded style on characters, making this one of the Switch’s most technically impressive games. Also worth noting, there has been more focus on making the game look good in handheld mode as well, which was often seen as an afterthought for previous Xenoblade games on Switch. Coupled with a targeted 30 FPS frame rate the game is about as smooth as one could hope for, considering the console specs and sheer scope of the game. I also feel I should point out how seamless the game is when switching from cutscenes to gameplay. Previous entries in the series would have to fade to black to quickly load in boss fights but in 3 the game instead has a more stylish zoom out straight into gameplay out of the cutscene. While there is a definite difference in quality for the pre-rendered cinematics versus the in-game cinematics, the transitions between the two are a lot smoother, and coupled with voice work even in many of these in-game moments, the overall presentation is a good deal higher than past entries in the series.
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To go this far without mentioning the game’s music is a crime unto itself, but to be honest here, when it comes to Monolith Soft, I simply just expect great music by default. Thankfully, Xenoblade 3 delivers here. From a beautiful piano piece that serves as the main menu theme, to several fantastic battle and field themes, there’s almost too much to parse when picking favorites. Compared to the previous games, Xenoblade 3 has a heavy emphasis on flutes, tying in with Noah and Mio’s instruments when working as off-seers, and giving the game its own distinctive sound. It can be hard to name favorites but I’ll try anyway. The Moebius battle theme itself includes ominous chanting, which ties in with the player tackling higher beings with god-like power, and at points the song even sounds like it is laughing at you, emphasizing that Moebius sees this all as entertainment over anything else. “A Step Away” is one of only two vocal tracks in the game, playing at the game’s emotionally draining darkest hour and may or may not have caused tears to be shed. For my money though, “The Weight of Life” has to be my favorite, despite how little it plays in the game. A climactic song that amplifies the cutscenes it appears in, it showcases just how hard the team has to work to overcome overwhelming odds and has moments of intensity that give me chills every time I hear it. Appearing at the end of the game’s second official trailer, I couldn’t get it out of my head then and still can’t. As always, Monolith never disappoints when it comes to music. Well…except for the fact that using a Chain Attack completely overrides whatever theme is playing, which means you can miss out on the more dynamic boss themes. So that could be better. That said, we still have an actual game to describe here, so I’d best move on.
BATTLE WITH CLASS
To anyone that has played any of the games in the series up until this point, Xenoblade 3 will be easy enough to get into, but for those that might be new to the series, here is a quick run-down of the basics before we get into what this game does differently. Speaking broadly, all Xenoblade games play out very similarly to MMO-styled combat. Players are free to move around in control of one character while the rest of the party is controlled by AI. When in range, you’ll attack automatically, though these attacks are often weak. The real damage comes from using Arts, special attacks with a wide range of uses and effects, which undergo cooldowns after use. Some Arts require you to hit opponents from a specific position, like Noah’s Edge Thrust, which does more damage from behind. Depending on which faction they belong to, Art cooldowns differ slightly in this game. Kevesi characters like Noah, Lanz and Eunie, have to simply wait for the cooldown to expire similar to Xenoblade 1. Agnian characters (Mio, Taion and Sena) instead recharge their Arts with auto-attacks similar to Xenoblade 2. Many Arts also are used in status combos, with the party using specific Arts in sequence to force a given status onto the enemy. Noah might inflict Break on opponents to stagger them, and Lanz can follow up with an Art that inflicts Topple, making the enemy defenseless for a time, as an example. While the AI generally follows along with what you want to do, this game also allows you to swap control to any main party member during battle, and even outside of that you can give some orders to allies to make them do specific things if need be. For the most part as long as you do your thing, you can let the rest of the party handle things on their own, but having the option is certainly nice.
This game really emphasizes proper team composition and everyone acting according to one of three roles: attacker, healer or defender, which should be fairly self-explanatory. New to this game is a wide variety of classes characters can obtain, all of which fall under one of these three roles. While Noah and company all have their own starting classes, throughout the game players can recruit extra party members, known as Heroes, and unlock the Heroes’ classes for the rest of the party. As a class is used, it levels up separately from the character and after certain milestones players will gain skills and Arts that can be used regardless of class, which is where some real interesting customization happens. You could have characters learn some healing Arts so they can help out regardless of class, or just give characters more offensive options in general. Given enough time it becomes easier to do various status combos or inflict some big damage, but the game still has plenty of other systems at play to make you even stronger.
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Following the inciting incident in the game, the core party gain the ability to Interlink into powerful forms known as Ouroboros, which they can freely use in combat a bit later on to great effect. While active, the Ouroboros has powerful Arts unique to them and they take no damage from attacks, though the form has its drawbacks. The Interlink will eventually overheat if not cancelled early, locking out the form for some time, and early on before the forms can be properly leveled up you won’t last long and be able to do as much. On top of that, characters have specific Interlink partners; Noah with Mio, Eunie with Taion and Lanz with Sena. If one of the pair is defeated in battle or hit by certain statuses, the Interlink cannot be performed. There’s also the problem of being down a character. If your healer Interlinks your party loses out on any heals, so you better make them count. While not an instant-win button, with practice the Ouroboros forms can help turn the tide of harder battles, but for situations that require even more power, there’s always the series staple in the Chain Attack. Once the Chain Attack gauge is filled, players can activate it at any time. Time stops and players can go all in on one enemy with the ability to use any Art on any party member. Without getting into the intricacies, the player is given an assortment of “orders” at the start of each “round” of the Chain Attack, which all have different effects if completed. Noah’s order has attacks potentially bypass an enemy’s defense, for example. The goal of each round is to use Arts to build up Tension Points. Once you reach 100 Tension, the order is executed. Rinse and repeat until you either run out of party members or the Chain Attack gauge empties. Heroes have their own orders that can be incredibly powerful; Valdi adds more Tension to his Arts if fighting a machine-type enemy, for one. And later on, Ouroboros orders can be used if certain conditions are met for even more damage. It takes a bit of luck and coordination but this game’s iteration of Chain Attacks might be the best yet in the series…perhaps even too good.
The series has quite the reputation for being difficult to get into and having quite complicated combat, though 3 aims to streamline things a great deal and ease players into things. From an honest to God training mode, to the slow but steady introduction of major mechanics with dedicated tutorials, Xenoblade 3 is perhaps the most straightforward game in the series, even if the beginning of the game somewhat goes too far with handholding and forcing players to do something as simple as, say, equip a piece of gear onto a character step by step. I’d rather the game teach me at all than flash a tutorial prompt on screen that can never be revisited though, so it’s a massive improvement from Xenoblade 2! Navigating menus is also made easier, with shortcuts that let me get right to where I want from the main game, like letting me open up the area map or party customization screen instantly, and those shortcuts can even be customized. There’s lots of smaller accessibility features in the options as well to make things flow smoother, like letting your AI allies Interlink on their own or leaving it to your explicit order. These quality-of-life updates really start to add up over time.
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Throughout the series, Monolith Soft has streamlined combat and with 3 they’ve landed on a really solid series of systems. The combat is faster and snappier than in 2, though retains that game’s improvements from 1’s combat, such as attack cancelling and the more streamlined UI. That said, an issue this game shares with all but Xenoblade Chronicles X is the inability to jump and run in combat, which can get awkward in the often bumpy terrain battles take place on. Getting launched by an enemy attack can cause you to get stuck on a small hill and be unable to get back to fighting unless you holster your weapon, at which point you’re a sitting duck. While the UI is streamlined and the game generally does a MUCH better job of teaching you, some fights are still a cluttered mess. I’m not sure it was really worth it to have the entire party (plus one Hero) active at once. Against larger, single targets like bosses it is mostly fine, but when fighting multiple enemies at once it becomes sensory overload, it being a legitimate problem trying to find who you’re locked onto and knowing what’s even going on. Those issues are fairly minor though, and the end result is some of the most engaging combat the series has ever had. Other aspects like equipment are further de-emphasized as was the case in 2; you can equip some basic accessories and gems to your character, as well as fiddle with the skills and arts you obtain by mastering classes, but that’s about it as far as “builds” go. As someone who dislikes having to constantly buy new armor and weapons for huge RPG parties, I’m not all that upset to see things simplified down like this and find the class system engaging enough when trying to optimize characters, so I think it balances out. While fighting is a huge part of the game, let’s not forget there’s other aspects to this gameplay experience too!
SATING MY WANDERLUST
As a series, Xenoblade really excels at sating my wanderlust, boasting vast landscapes filled with things to see and do that are often quite striking. In some respects, 3 makes some great improvements from the previous entry, though I’m still left wanting more. Aionios, according to the developers, is roughly five times bigger in terms of walking distance compared to Xenoblade 2’s Alrest, though I find the ways to navigate this world aren’t scaled up to match. Your run speed and jump height and distance aren’t much different than in either Xenoblade 1 or 2, despite the world being so much bigger and it just doesn’t cut it. Often the jumping is mostly to get over the small bumps in the road that you should logically be able to already walk over but can’t for whatever reason, and it’s otherwise useless for any amount of platforming, and while I made frequent use of the fast travel system to get around there’s still large stretches where I would turn auto-run on and put my controller down to do something else as the group crossed large expanses. The most infuriating thing about all of this though is that Monolith Soft already solved these types of issues with Xenoblade Chronicles X on the Wii U. That game was also massive, bigger than Breath of the Wild in fact, and was a seamless, open world to boot. And to match that players not only could run FAR faster than in any other game, they could jump far higher and farther to make navigating the vast world of Mira fun in its own right. And later still you would gain access to a giant robot, the Skell, to cross even larger expanses faster and eventually unlock the flight module to make the world your oyster. While I’m not asking for 3 to add in a giant robot to fly around in (I mean I wouldn’t say no either) at the very least I wish this game took the running and jumping from X. Later in the game you do gain access to a boat to cross a large aquatic region…but its controls both leave something to be desired and the sheer scale of this ocean means the boat only makes moving from point A to B SLIGHTLY less tedious.
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To the game’s credit though, it does improve on one of my least favorite aspects of Xenoblade 2’s navigation. In the latter, you would frequently need to unlock paths forward with field skills and constantly open up menus to swap around Blades to get the appropriate skills in order, but it was a real mess and pace breaker. In 3 field skills are taught to the party after meeting certain Heroes, and just have them permanently active from that point onwards. The game even teases you a bit at the beginning by showing you tightropes you won’t be able to use until a ways later into the story. That said, there’s only four field skills in the entire game and two are completely optional, and even in those cases I can count the times you DO need to use them on one hand. Expecting every Hero to have their own field skill would have been overkill for sure, and in this specific case I’m glad Monolith Soft didn’t go for quantity over quality. Sadly, the game couldn’t improve on 2’s map at all, as it still makes it difficult to judge differences in elevation. Certain symbols only show up on the minimap but not the full map, and you’re limited to just one pin you can put on the map per areas, which simply isn’t enough. Seeing as so many people from Monolith Soft worked on Breath of the Wild, which had detailed maps that showed off things well, as well as multiple pins and such to work with, this is a pretty disappointing step down. Far from unusable but there’s more that could have been done here.
Thankfully, the game does improve on one aspect the series has always been a bit iffy on: the quests.
HOLDING OUT FOR A HERO (QUEST)
Xenoblade has often had a LOT of quests, but very few were really worth doing outside of the experience or money they’d give you. The first game went a little too hard on MMO-styled quests that just amounted to killing a given number of enemies or gathering a given amount of items. Some quests had more worthwhile rewards and little storylines associated with the NPCs giving them out but it really wasn’t worth having to trudge through all of the basic ones to get to them. Xenoblade Chronicles X was a fair bit better with more engaging quest lines throughout the game with more tangible rewards. Watching your city slowly accept more alien citizens into it was really neat, among other things. But that game also had strange requirements to even take on quests and often limited who could or could not be in your party to even accept them which held it back. The vast majority of quests in Xenoblade 2 were kind of unremarkable to be honest, though the Blade quests were often higher quality…a shame most Blades were only obtainable through in-game gacha that took TONS of luck and grinding to even get. So really, the bar was pretty low for Xenoblade 3’s quests and they still raised it so much higher that it’ll be very hard to top.
Side quests in 3 come in two flavors: basic quests and Hero quests. Basic quests can vary but often concern themselves with NPCs and tend to have their own minor storyline connected to the colony they hail from, while Hero quests are for both recruiting and later strengthening the Heroes you can add to your party. Hero quests come with voice acting and even some extensive cinematics at times, so the presentation really makes them stand out. While some Hero quests are actually required to complete the story, the vast majorities are optional…but if you take nothing else from this section, know that it is within your best interests to do them if you can, because they contain some of the game’s best moments. Be it character development, gags, or some really great rewards in the form of power-ups or party members, I was almost never disappointed with the Hero quests. Some are so good I’m shocked Monolith Soft didn’t make them required, especially since they often tie up loose ends to the core story or some characters’ personal arcs.
Something I came to enjoy about all of these quests is how they would often feed into each other and in some cases build off of one another. Take the quests found in Colony 9. The colony is rather run down at the game’s start and the new commander, Zeon, isn’t well respected by the rest of his subordinates. His initial Hero quest is about learning to trust Noah and the others, but subsequent quests around the colony are about him earning the trust of his peers and eventually getting the colony to start growing their own crops to sustain themselves. This requires the help of Colony Tau, which you encounter much later on, but serves to strengthen relations between the two. Most of the colonies in the game end up being paired off with a colony from the opposite faction, further emphasizing the game’s core themes of looking past initial differences or prejudices and working together for a common goal. Some basic quests can have some unexpected payoff. One questline has you attacked at random points by strange robotic soldiers, which eventually leads to a late-game Hero quest, and that hero teaches you a field skill that enables you to tackle another Hero’s ascension quest as you go off in search of a mythical hot spring. It made me feel validated in scraping every inch of the map and doing every quest when I could. Often times I was torn between continuing the core story and doing as much side content as possible, which is about the highest praise I can think of for an RPG. Things aren’t perfect, of course.
While I would say most missions are at least somewhat interesting for delving into NPCs or occasionally shaking things up, the game does repeat certain quest types a bit too much. Virtually every “follow the tracks” mission is the same, but the tracks themselves sometimes seem to wig out and spontaneously pop into existence. Not bad, but also not very engaging. Any time you have to follow an NPC that walks as slow as possible also kills the pacing of the game. I’m begging you here, Monolith Soft, please never do this again. There’s even two separate quest lines about making it rain that either requires random waiting around or dropping a ton of money on an NPC to make it rain instead. But really, the biggest issue I have with a lot of the quests in the game is how you get them.
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Sometimes you’ll just be given a quest straight away, while others will be displayed on the map with a big glowing question mark. But often times you have to gather information on a quest before actually being assigned it. Wander over to NPCs with neon yellow speech bubbles and just eavesdrop for a few seconds and BAM, you have some quest info. But some quests require multiple pieces of information to even accept and even then, you have to go back to camp and specifically discuss the info to gain the quest. Some quests require you to have specific Heroes in your line up OR be discussed at a very specific camp just to give you more hoops to jump through. This does nothing but really add extra steps to the process and I don’t find it adds anything of note but maybe some minor flavor text. I can tolerate it for the most part at least, except for the handful of cases where the information you need to gather can only be obtained at VERY specific times of day. I wasn’t able to even START a few quests near the end of the game because I would have to go to a specific part of the map at a specific part of the day for the CHANCE the conversation would be there to overhear. Granted, you can change the time of day in-game manually but it was still an annoying obstacle that didn’t have to be there.
That said, I did everything in the game, which isn’t something I could say for ANY other Xenoblade until now, as there was always something that would burn me out of the process. Maybe there were just too many quests, or weird requirements to even start them, but Xenoblade 3 is the first game in the series I’ve 100% completed, so that should speak to the sheer quality of most of the side content in addition to the core story.  For the most part the game is very keen on making it easy to keep tabs on your progress through quests, or making it easy to see where to go next. Some quests which required you to grab specific items would sometimes mark themselves on your map, and some areas would spawn a large amount of items in said area to make gathering take no time at all. That said, this wasn’t universal and there are still some really tedious questlines involving gathering items that I had to look up to cut down on time. All told though, I never felt the need to just drop a quest and enjoyed having so many things to do throughout the game. Monolith Soft has come far when it comes to their side content, though there are still some pitfalls with the greater balance of the game with all that in mind.
AN UNENVIABLE BALANCING ACT
Balancing a game is hard, especially an RPG with tons of systems layered over one another. Past Xenoblade games have been a bit hit or miss with balance, and going into Xenoblade 3 I was curious how well they’d balance a game where your entire party is battling at once. I think for the most part the game’s intended balance curve when focusing on the story is mostly fine. And it does take steps to keep players from growing too strong too fast and breaking the game over its knee but…well, let’s just say there are some issues with their approach to things.
Most regular encounters are generally fine so long as you are within a few levels of your enemy, and as long as you single out some stronger enemies and don’t attract a group you’ll do fine. Same old Xenoblade. As in past games though, there are varying types of enemies that can rapidly change things, namely the Elite and Unique enemies. Unique enemies are a series staple, basically bosses in disguise and are often far stronger than their level would imply, with Elite enemies a slight step down from that. These two enemy types are a LOT bulkier than standard enemies, and as I found throughout the game, most storyline bosses qualify as these types of enemies as far as health and defense goes. On the one hand, this meant that even in situations where I was quite over leveled, these bosses still put up a fight, but it also kind of makes most fights a drag….unless you use Chain Attacks.
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Which leads to my next point: Chain Attacks are kind of broken. They are SO good, you’d be foolish NOT to abuse them, but by using them battles can get kind of samey, all that unique music is drowned out by the Chain Attack theme, and it also makes it easy to over level without even trying. See, similar to Xenoblade 2, if you kill an enemy during a Chain Attack but keep going for as long as possible you end up getting an “overkill” modifier to your experience. Depending on when and where you do the Chain Attack, you could end up getting upwards of 1000 times the normal experience. Add to this that Elite enemies also have a separate modifier for experience you gain from taking them out, as well as the fact that one of the perks to doing more side quests is upping the chances of seeing more Elite enemies…and it means you are DROWNING in experience before you even get to the experience gained from quests and exploration.
Now, in Xenoblade 2 Monolith Soft implemented a system where you would have any non-battle experience stored separately that you could access at an inn to bolster your levels if you needed a boost, or ignore it if you didn’t want to over level. This carries over into Xenoblade 3; however it lacks the ability to level down, which was added to the Switch port of Xenoblade 1, at least until the post-game. So you have a game where it is extremely easy to over level, even if you aren’t trying to optimize it, and that leads to another problem.
Whenever you complete a Hero Quest in this game, a given party member will “inherit” that Hero’s class. So, when you beat Valdi’s quest and add him to your party, Lanz gets the ability to be a War Medic immediately. For everyone else, they have to unlock it slowly by fighting alongside Valdi and/or Lanz in that class, as an example. What the game fails to tell you though is that if you are more than four levels higher than an enemy, characters gain NO progress towards unlocking these classes. Despite the fact you still gain experience and Class Points (to rank up the classes), they saw fit to freeze your progress. In a game where it’s criminally easy to accidentally over level, which pushes you to fight stronger and stronger enemies to actually unlock the classes the game is clearly built around. Which will just over level you even more. It’s a problem that starts small, barely noticeable, but by endgame I was left with a ton of classes I couldn’t really pass on to anybody, which really limited my options.
To be fair here, this isn’t an issue every player is likely to really run into. Not everyone’s going to do every quest in the game, or use all their stored experience. The game is perfectly playable and beatable without getting every class on every character. As I said before, going from story beat to story beat, the game offers pretty decent challenge, and if you don’t abuse certain things like the experience modifiers, you likely strike a good balance with the game. I also only played on the default difficulty so maybe the harder difficulty would have been a better idea. I’ve definitely seen strategies and set-ups that break the game in half and trivialize it even at the higher difficulties but that’s so far removed from an average experience with the game I can overlook it. Monolith Soft likes to put a lot of things into their games and striking a perfect balance between rewarding players for doing it versus not punishing players who don’t engage with every facet is impossible. For the most part, the game works fine as intended and for those that enjoy exploiting and optimizing things out, Xenoblade 3 can be a lot of fun. I just hope in the future they can try to limit punishing players that stray off the beaten path and gorge themselves on all this wonderful optional content. They’re getting better in some ways, but there’s still a lot more that can be done.
BRINGING AND END TO THE ENDLESS NOW
I’ve had a lot to say here regarding Xenoblade Chronicles 3. If you couldn’t tell, I quite enjoyed it and took great delight in devouring it over the course of about 170 hours. As it stands, this game is likely my Game of the Year, or at the very least in the running for it. Monolith Soft has become one of my favorite developers over the course of the Xenoblade series. From their support work on major first-party Nintendo games, to this series, I’ve seen tremendous growth from them. They learn from their mistakes and shoot ever higher, with each original title from them demonstrating that they are some of the best in the business. I said before that Xenoblade Chronicles 3 is Monolith Soft more or less at their best in many regards, and shows a glimpse at their true potential, with their ambitions fully realized.
While I am a bit mixed on certain endgame elements of the story, it was an extremely engaging, emotional title that excelled at giving me a main cast I really cared about. I love Shulk, I…tolerate Rex, but the rest of their party members were hit-or-miss By contrast, I love the entirety of the Ouroboros gang here. Demonstrating surprising depth and story relevancy, at no point did they fade into the background. While the setting definitely takes elements from past titles and longtime fans have a lot to dissect and mull over, making this game mostly a standalone experience allowed the cast to shine, no fear of being upstaged or made to play second-fiddle to returning characters. For anyone joining this series with this installment, I’ll say again that you don’t miss out on too terribly much and the core experience will still hit hard.
This is easily my favorite Xenoblade when it comes to the combat, making for a smooth experience that I easily lost several hours in without even noticing. The ease of swapping between side quests, the main story and exploring the corners of Aionios cannot be overstated here. For as long as the game was, it was hard to put down until I saw the ending through. Despite some bumps in the road, Monolith delivered not just a good story, but a good game built around it. It was a journey that seemed endless, and at times I didn’t want it to end.
For as bleak as the game could get, there was always an optimistic streak that kept it from being too much. For as nightmarish as the world was, the heroes moved forward. Xenoblade 3 is a game all about moving forward; it is about accepting loss, celebrating the good times along with the bad, and cherishing the time you have while you can. As tempting as it may be to live in a stable status quo, that leads to stagnation and ultimately destruction. The future is uncertain, there are doubtless struggles ahead, but despite that fear of the unknown, moving forward is the only way we can go on living. The past few years have weighed pretty hard on me, as I’m sure it has for many others out there, and it has put a lot of things in perspective. I found myself frozen, afraid to move forward or back. Trapped in my own “endless now,” I’m glad to have found hope again. This might be “just a game,” but it was a game I felt I really needed to play at this specific moment in time. It means a lot to me, and I’m glad I was able to share my thoughts on it. A triumph of the genre, Xenoblade Chronicles 3 stands out to me more so than perhaps any other game this year, and I can’t recommend it enough.
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favoniuscodex · 3 years
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inheritance . act one [diluc x reader]
inheritance act one of five: denial arranged marriage royalty au prince!diluc x f!knight!reader
fic summary: you're the heir apparent's key to obtaining the throne you've sworn to protect since you were a child. but in barbatos' domain, where freedom reigns, you must first answer a question: is freedom found in the ability to spread your wings and take flight on mondstadt's winds or is freedom found in the ability to choose to remain flightless?
word count: 19.6k
warnings: alcohol, minor descriptions of wounds and violence, bleeding, pining, oblivious characters, no explicit nsfw, enemies(?) to lovers
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a/n: i’m happy it’s finally done! i’m so excited to share this with you all! i hope you like it. please post here to be on the taglist! characters may be ooc at first but they’ll grow into their rightful personalities, dw! <3
You first met Diluc when you were eight, the boy being two years older than you. It was an accidental meeting. Commoners like you weren’t supposed to be in the palace, but your father was one of the palace’s Royal Knights, assigned to protect the king and his royal family, even at the cost of his life. You were far too young to grasp the political implications of what “serving the throne” actually meant, just believing that it meant you got to run around in cool armor while slaying dragons.
At least, that’s what the colorful storybooks that littered the floor of your childhood room had told you.
The boy had seemed nervous. Much like you at that age, he was a true introvert at heart. His princely duties extended past such nerves as he was forced to cast human consternation and worries aside and extend his hand to you.
“I am Prince Diluc of Mond,” He proudly stated, mustering as much righteousness into his words that a ten-year-old was capable of doing.
You were too young to notice it yet, but such an act was false bravado on the prince’s behalf.
You shook his hand limply, unfamiliar with such formal gestures. A nudge from your father enforced the power dynamic that would persist between you and the prince for years to come, as your father reminded you to bow in respect. After bowing, you stayed quiet for a few more moments before being nudged gently by your father again. A confused look passed over your face before you remembered what you needed to do.
“Oh, I’m (Y/N)!” you giggled. “It’s nice to meet you!”
Diluc stared at you for a moment before a grin broke out onto his face. “My father wanted me to ask if you wanted to come play with my brother and I?”
You looked at Diluc before glancing up at your father for permission, who simply smiled and nodded his goodwill in return. In response, Diluc latched his hand around your wrist and the two of you ran down the hallway to go play pirates.
---
When you were fourteen, Diluc appeared in your life once more.
It’s amusing as to how quickly a mere second encounter can shatter fond memories developed prior.
“This is Knight (Y/L/N),” a fellow knight had introduced you to the prince. “Her duties will consist of protecting the royal family, with a focus on you, my prince.”
The redhead had simply scoffed, looking you up and down with distaste. If he remembered your brief childhood rendezvous, he failed to show it. His eyes glinted with annoyance and his lips curled slightly downwards, yet you bowed in respect, for you had sworn an oath of fealty to the kingdom. Whether the people you watched over agreed or disagreed with your methods mattered not to you, for you had been assigned to this position by the king himself. Anyone who ranked below him could not waver such undying loyalty, even if they were his son.
“She’s my bodyguard?” Diluc’s tone was one of disdain as he folded his arms. “She’s a child. I’d be better off protecting myself, especially since she doesn’t have a vision. I don’t want her.”
Your stoic expression matches Diluc’s slight frown, unshaken by his words. However, you couldn’t say the same for the knight that had re-introduced the two of you. Despite being much older and of higher rank than you, the poor man was shaking in his boots from being reprimanded by the king’s tempestuous son.
“My prince, with all due respect, she is the most promising knight out of the academy in many years. She’s an excellent fighter and chivalrous at heart. I can assure the king has picked only the best knight for you,” your fellow knight insisted as you remained steady.
“My father picked her?” Diluc’s voice softens almost imperceptibly, not having expected such information. “Very well then. Even if I do not believe she is of assistance, I have no capability to argue with one of my father’s orders.”
A wave of relief washes over your superior’s face upon Diluc’s concession. “Thank you, my liege,” He says, genuflecting in the prince’s direction before standing tall and saluting. Diluc’s crimson gaze turns to yours and presses his lips together in a slight frown.
“Well?” The prince snaps, seemingly expecting something of you as he folds his arms. Your stoic expression shatters as you raise an eyebrow. “Do you not have something to say to me as well?”
Oh. You finally understand. He’s not just having a bad day. He’s just an asshat.
“With all due respect, my prince,” You respond, finally breaking your silence. “I am not aware of any words of yours that deserve my gratitude. All three of us are merely following orders.”
You feign innocence at your contemptuous words, biting back a smirk as the haughty redhead glowers at you. The knight next to you looks as if he wants to run away. Sensing his discomfort, Diluc wordlessly waves him off and your eyes flicker away from Diluc’s vermillion gaze to watch the knight salute before marching off, leaving you and your new assignment alone together. Diluc looks you up and down once more, his eyes ablaze with ire at your mere presence.
“What is your name?” Diluc queries. His harsh tone contracts with the societal politeness embedded into his question. “Royal Knight (Y/L/N), sir.” You respond with a quick salute. Diluc stares at you with a mixture of confusion and disgust.
“That is not what I meant. What is your first name?” He clarifies, his vocal inflection making it clear that such a notion should have been obvious to you from the beginning. “You are not a dog, I do not wish to refer to you in such a manner.”
Your lips remain neutral, but you can’t help the confused look that shows in your eyes. It was far too late for him to say such things. He had already treated both you and your superior with disrespect. Nonetheless, as he is a higher rank than you, you answered him. “(Y/N), sir.”
“Well, (Y/N), it appears that we are stuck together. It would be in your best interest not to slow me down,” His words are cavalier and cautionary, yet you discern a faint hint of hollowness in his words, as if he’s not exactly sure what to say or do with you.
You nod in response and give a slight smirk in hopes of easing the tension between the two of you. Diluc doesn’t smile back.
---
A year of being Diluc’s bodyguard (a position akin to being a glorified babysitter, except you have authorization to use lethal force) passes and you find a friend in the most unlikely of places: Diluc’s own brother, Kaeya. The blue-haired boy is a cheerful, charming spirit who took an immediate interest in you upon your first meeting.
“My older brother probably hates you,” He had said and you were unsure as to how to respond until he let out a laugh. “That’s okay. He hates almost everyone. I’m Prince Kaeya!”
Kaeya’s ability to find you on the castle grounds whenever your services are not needed for the elder prince is almost troubling. Any brief moment of peace you have often results in the persistent prince appearing at your side, excited to speak with you about whatever was going on in his life. Kaeya’s determination to become your friend, you soon realized, is rooted in the fact that the prince has little to no interaction with others of his age, something you had also noticed in Diluc’s own life upon your time watching him. Kaeya was not allowed the privilege to have friends his age, something you had taken for granted back in your hometown of Springvale.
“What are you thinking about?” Kaeya asks, the two of you sitting on a bench outside of the knight’s quarters. He bites into one of the apples he had brought along with him, soft crunching noises filling the the silence between you as you attempt to formulate a response.
“Well,” Your eyes flicker to the clusters of windwheel asters planted by the entrance to your residence building. “I am afraid my thoughts are not of much value at the moment.” You draw your words out in order to give yourself time to think of how to phrase your words. “At the moment, my thoughts are not very… kind.” Upon your words, Kaeya’s blue eyes gleam with delight as he leans over closer to you. The boy has pestered you enough to know what such words mean, as they are not a slight to him, but rather disdainful of his older brother.
“Do share them,” Kaeya pleads, his tone eager to hear what complaints you may have about Diluc.
You flatten your hands on the flat surface of the stone bench behind you and look up into the cloudless blue sky, enjoying the feeling of the warm spring sun on your skin as you utter your next words, “Permission to speak freely, sir?”
“Yes, yes!” Kaeya laughs, excitedly. “Share your vile thoughts so the world may cast their judgement upon the wicked sinfulness that reverberates in your mind!”
You snap your head to the boy next to you and stare at him with wide eyes at his words. The second your eyes meet his playful ones, the both of you break out into raucous laughter at his theatrics. His tone was haughty, mimicking many of the stuffy elites the two of you were surrounded by, including Diluc. At times like these, you were reminded that Kaeya was an outsider to the palace, just like you were, yet the hierarchy of the two of your duties separated you from him.
“Okay, okay,” You huff, trying to catch your breath from laughing. Kaeya simmers down upon realizing you are about to talk and looks at you expectantly, leaning slightly in your direction. “Yes, it’s about him.” The two of you burst into laughter once more.
“When is it not?” Kaeya giggles. “He’s so weird with you compared to how he acts with me.”
“That’s because you’re his brother. Of course he’s going to be nicer to you.” You explain before shaking your head slightly and swatting your hand through the air to signal that such a topic of conversation is something you did not wish to focus upon. “Anyways, today we were in another one of those stuffy formality meetings with some Inazuman diplomates. Y’know, those ones. And I’m standing by the door, keeping watch, like… it’s the usual kind of stuff I’m supposed to do. The meeting was supposed to be two hours, but Diluc’s refusal to compromise made the meeting run over it’s designated time by an hour. I swear, if not for the fact that it would cause an international scandal, Diluc and the diplomat guy would’ve started fighting each other.”
Kaeya’s eyebrows raise at your last statement and he laughs once more. “That’s Diluc for you. He means well but is awful at showing it to most people. He just… really believes in himself.”
“He shouldn’t,” You respond before clapping a hand over your mouth in shock as Kaeya roars with joy at your words, relishing in your loss of respect for the redheaded prince in your words. “I… I don’t mean it like that! I just mean… he’s still young. Such an unshakable perspective on international relations will only lead to foreign envoys viewing him poorly.”
“Yes, I wholeheartedly agree, but neither of us want to tell him this. He’d just scream at you and would give me the cold shoulder,” Kaeya muses as he outstretches a hand to you, offering one of the untouched apples he had brought along to you. You nod your appreciation and take the apple, piercing through its skin with your teeth as you bite into the red fruit.
“Prince Diluc does like to lecture his subordinates,” You agree after swallowing. “Especially me.”
“Don’t take it personally,” Kaeya advises with an optimistic smile. “If he’s willingly speaking to you at all, it means he likes you. He just does a piss poor job at showing it to anyone outside of the family.”
“Because he’s entitled.” You respond and Kaeya winks at you, gesturing his approval in your direction.
“Precisely! Now you’re getting it!”
---
On your sixteenth birthday, Diluc provides no well-wishes, but manages to give you the best present of all: a better attitude. His words are no longer infused with the disdain he once held for you, but rather coated with only a slight annoyance. With Diluc, you’ll take any improvement you can get. The change in his demeanor had left you reeling after a mere ten-word question, the whiplash from the complete upheaval of his attitude stunning you into silence.
“Would you care to go to the market with me?” Diluc had asked absentmindedly, focused on his paperwork at hand.
You had stood by the entrance to his personal study, warding off any unwanted visitors with your daunting presence and stoic demeanor. Despite how intimidating the other maids found you, Diluc had paid this unapproachable disposition of yours no mind, much to your gratitude. But as the rather innocent question fell from the prince’s lips, you couldn’t help but to look around and reassure that no one else had slipped into the room and evaded your watchful eye.
Diluc had given you a choice with his question -- an action he had never performed before.
Irked by your silence, Diluc set his pen down and looked up at you expectantly, folding his hands together and resting them on the desk in front of him. “Well?” He scoffed.
“Visiting Mondstadt’s main street would be nice,” You responded, unsure of your words. With Diluc, you were always unsure of your words. “Would you like me to assemble a party of knights to accompany us?”
Diluc let out a sigh and shook his head, leaning back in his chair. “I do not wish to attract unwanted attention with such procedures. I simply wish to get a breath of fresh air. Only your presence is requested, unless you believe it is unwise for me to leave with so few men by my side.” The boy’s words were inquisitive, holding an unfamiliar softness to him. The realization that the prince is genuinely seeking your approval of his plan caused you to bite back a smile in fear of spoiling his uncharacteristically pleasant mood.
Therefore, rather than rushing an answer to his response, you mulled it over. You had no reservations about your own fighting skills, having been chosen for your current position due to your highly proficient swordsmanship. Additionally, you knew of Diluc’s training with both his Pyro vision and his claymore, so you had few worries for the prince being able to handle his own. Both of these factors combined meant that you only had one issue to worry about.
“Well, according to protocol, a departure from the palace grounds would require multiple guards to be at your side,” You speculated, watching as Diluc’s shoulders fell slightly as he let out a huff of contempt. He lifted up his pen and prepared to work once more, but your additional words caused him to cease this motion. “But… I believe there is a way we can bypass these regulations, but I am not quite sure if you will enjoy it.”
Your plan leads to you standing in the main square of Mondstadt, hands clasped together as you watch a group of children run around the fountain. You are standing in your typical Royal Knight uniform with your weapon strapped to your back. At your side stands Prince Diluc, disguised as a fellow Royal Knight, much to his behest. His claymore rests upon his back, ready for him to wield should any evil-doers elected to make their presences known.
For Diluc, his cherry-colored hair and matching eyes do little to disguise him, but his typical introversion aids him, as the average Mondstadtian is unlikely to recognize their prince and, for those that do, are unlikely to believe that their prince is dressed up in Royal Knight attire and perusing the shops of Mondstadt with only one knight by his side. Your illicit plan, which involved smuggling a spare uniform into the castle then proceeding to sneak the prince wearing said uniform out of the castle, relies now upon one thing: the stupidity of your fellow citizens.
For your job’s sake, you pray to Barbatos that it works.
“I do not enjoy this outfit,” Diluc grumbles next to you, causing your attention to snap from watching the commoners of Mondstadt and instead to the prince of said kingdom. He pinches at some of the fabric on his leg, stretching it around in hopes of making the outfit more comfortable. You have never had any issues with said uniform, but then again, you aren’t a prince who has all of his clothes custom tailored to his build.
“To achieve true happiness, we all have to do things we don’t exactly like to do.” You chirp. Diluc’s aloof visage is now marred by furrowed eyebrows as he tries to decipher any potential hidden meanings behind your potentially parabolic words. However, you fail to give him proper time to ruminate, instead deciding to speak once more. “Where were you hoping to visit, sir?”
Diluc returns to his usual silence, but a faint flush that appears on his cheeks notifies you of his bashfulness.
“I’m… not sure,” He admits. If you did not have a code of conduct to follow, you would be screeching in delight at Diluc, the arrogant prince of Mond, finally admitting he does not know something. “I do not often have the chance to visit the heart of the city, especially in such a leisurely manner. However, you are from here, are you not?”
“I am from Springvale, sir.” You respond, forgoing your typical formality of my prince. After all, such a title would immediately blow Diluc’s cover. The redhead looks crestfallen at your words. “But… I resided in Mondstadt with my father while training to be a knight. I won’t be as good of a tour guide as a local, but I should be decent.”
“Do you know of any… eating establishments?” Diluc asks. You narrowly avoid sending a judgemental look his way at his wording. Did he not know they were called restaurants? Had Diluc never been to a restaurant? You were baffled.
“Do you prefer a to-go restaurant or a sit-down restaurant, sir?” You question and Diluc’s relaxed expression turns into one of befuddlement. Well, that answered the question if Diluc had ever experienced the basic societal activity that was eating at a restaurant. You knew royals were detached from society, but you never would have thought it to be this bad.
“Alright,” You say after a few beats of silence, smart enough to know that Diluc isn’t going to respond. The redhead’s expression returns to his typical indifferent one. “We’ll go to a sit-down restaurant, if that’s okay. A bit more expensive, but it’s probably the most immersive experience for eating at a restaurant for the first time.”
“I have been to a restaurant before,” Diluc lies, trying to save face as his cheeks begin to tint with pink upon realizing that you’ve seen right through him. You look at him blankly and his eyebrows twitch in annoyance upon his revelation that you weren’t buying his protests. “Fine, then. Lead the way.”
His typical annoyed tone is back. Well, kind Diluc was nice while it lasted, you think, rolling your shoulders slightly in preparation for his typical attitude. You nod in response and begin to walk. The prince matches your pace, determined to not fall behind someone of a lower rank than him.
---
You start to wonder if everyone in Mondstadt is pretending to be oblivious to the prince in their presence or if they’re actually just that stupid.
It’s a miracle that you managed to corral the prince’s confident attitude long enough to get him to sit down and order some food at The Good Hunter. Upon your arrival, Diluc managed to ignore the politely worded “Please wait to be seated” sign and started to walk past the hostess table, determined to seat himself. You had to pull him back to you by yanking his arm, an action that surely would have made Diluc lecture you for fifteen minutes, if not for the fact that he was still undercover. Instead, he settled for a scathing glare which only worsened as you gestured at the sign in front of the two of you.
Additionally, the prince was baffled by the entire ordering process, especially upon you informing him that it would take upwards of thirty minutes to receive your food. He was put off by the fact the chefs wouldn’t drop everything just to serve him first, to which you had simply taken a sip of your drink and not responded to such opinions. Now, the two of you were sitting in silence as your gaze fluttered around the restaurant and any passerbys, analyzing for potential threats. You found comfort in the silence as you were used to standing vigilant and quiet through your duty as Diluc’s personal Royal Knight.
“You are quiet,” Diluc states, his words almost an accusation. You look at him inquisitively, your gaze moving from the entrance to his red hues. You tilt your head slightly at his statement, signalling your confusion at his words. Diluc lets out a huff, bothered by your petulant, purposefully silent response. “You never speak unless if spoken to.”
“Would you prefer if I talk more, sir?” You ask. After all, you served the throne, which extended to Diluc. Any wish of his was your command, even if you thought he was generally an uppity, self-absorbed jerk. His eyes narrow slightly.
“I typically appreciate your silence,” Diluc confesses. It doesn’t feel like a compliment. “But now? It is quite irritating.” The prince stares you down, awaiting your reply.
“If I may ask, sir, why is such a thing irritating?” You question, turning your gaze back to the entrance as you speak. “I am merely observing the building for any potential threats to your life.”
“Look around, (Y/N),” Diluc says exasperatedly, as if his answer should be obvious. Yeah, that’s what I’ve been doing, you think bitterly, but elect to keep such thoughts to yourself. “Everyone here is speaking with someone else. Such social interactions are a simplicity of life commoners take for granted. The ability to speak freely with a non-familial companion is something I envy.”
Your gaze snaps back to the prince and you raise your eyebrows. “Is a wish for such companionship why you wished to go to the market, sir? To be a part of the lower citizenry?”
The prince breaks from staring at you, instead electing to study his hands in his lap, flustered by such a straightforward question. “I wish to better understand my subjects, yes. But I also wish to have the same liberties as them. I long for the freedom for platonic association with others of my age.”
“So…” You trail off for a second, lost in thought. “You want friends?”
The prince smiles bitterly at his friends. “Yes,” He answers truthfully. The single word is imbued with intense envy. “Everyone in my life, apart from my father and my brother, is placed in my life to placate me, rather than to accompany me.”
Your eyebrows raise briefly at his confession, perplexed as to why the prince is being so forthright and honest with you. For a split second, you wonder if the prince is swallowing his pride and asking to be your friend, but you quickly shoo such a childish thought out of your brain. You quickly determine that the prince isn’t interested in friendship, but rather wishes to use his subordinates, such as yourself, to fill the void in his heart. You decide to placate him nonetheless with a soft smile.
“Companionship is what you make of it,” You suggest, leaving your words vague as you lean back against your seat, crossing your arms and returning to watching the interest. The two of you fall into a silence once more, before Diluc speaks once more.
“I do not know much about you.” The redhead states. “Where are you from?”
For a man who wanted friends, he’s awfully bad at remembering information about his companions, you think. But you’ll gladly take the forced conversation with Diluc over him barking orders and insults at you all the time. You are well aware that you’ve sworn to protect the throne, even at the cost of your life, but you can’t help the desire for freedom from such burdens that swims in the depths of your mind.
“Springvale,” You echo absentmindedly. You barely hold yourself back from asking where he’s from, even if it would be funny to see his face twist in frustration at your teasing. “I was born there, but moved away at the age of ten to begin training to be a Knight of Favonius. Things changed and I ended up as a Royal Knight instead.”
Diluc’s interest is piqued at your words. You can’t help the feeling of discomfort that washes over you upon the sudden realization that you’re having a friendly conversation with your superior, a man who can barely tolerate your presence on a good day. He seems to be trying, though, and you can’t help but sympathize with his loneliness. As his personal guard, you’d be the first to say that Prince Diluc has very few friends.
“Why did you elect to become a Royal Knight rather than a Knight of Favonius?” Diluc asks, his crimson eyes staring at you.
“Permission to speak freely?” You requested, the words feeling foreign on your tongue. The question that you constantly asked his younger brother was now difficult to get out. Diluc’s eyes widen slightly, startled at your request, but his relaxed visage quickly returns, disguising his emotions once more.
“Permission granted.” Diluc says. The words feel jarring coming from him and you can tell he feels the same discomfort you do at this sudden change in professionalism between the two of you, yet he makes no move to change the topic of conversation or to stop you from speaking.
“My personal view on the Knights of Favonius is that…” Your words sound distant as you try to find the proper way of phrasing what you need to say. “They’re inefficient. Most of the Knights within Ordo Favonius prefer to serve themselves rather than the community of Mondstadt as a whole. They’re there because it’s a well-paying job. They dislike anything that threatens their reputation and job security.”
At that moment, you had no idea how seriously Diluc would take your words and the lasting impact such a confession would have on him.
---
You’re seventeen when you encounter the worst threat to the palace yet. You had been alone, forced to fight an Abyss Mage who had breached Mondstadt’s walls and headed in the direction of the palace. You had destroyed its shield by throwing a rock at a nearby exploding barrel on the wall. The resulting explosion had alerted nearby knights of the Abyss Mage’s presence, but the creature’s Cryo magic had severely frostbitten your arm before any help could arrive. In return, you had wielded your sword with a single hand and delivered the killing blow to the creature.
The Knights of Favonius weren’t happy with your decision to kill the creature, stating that having an abyss mage in their possession could have been a valuable resource. Helping the Knights of Favonius with their research wasn’t your job -- protecting the throne was. Therefore, you had no regrets about your decision to kill the gremlin who had almost taken your arm.
You sit on a bed in the Cathedral’s infirmary as a healer frets over your arm, using the power of their Anemo vision to speed up the healing process. The frostbite was recoverable, they had told you, but it would likely result in permanent scarring. To ensure full use of your arm would return, you were recommended to take a leave of absence from your protective duties in the palace for the following month.
While you were happy to be alive, you were irritated that such a situation would put you out of work for the next month. Sure, your position wasn’t the greatest, but it was a stepping stone to a better position within the Royal Knights, such as becoming one of the king’s personal knights or one of the organizers of palace operations. The organization itself focused on palace operations, which meant there wasn’t much room for growth as compared to the Knights of Favonius, who protected Mondstadt’s citizenry.
A month out of work meant a month less of progress in your career and, more importantly, a month less of protecting the throne you had sworn your life to protect. Your fate of becoming a knight was a decision you had made at a young age, clueless and starry-eyed, as you watched your father perform his duties around the palace. He had been a high-ranking Royal Knight, one of King Crepus’s personal entourage. He had wholeheartedly believed in everything the throne of Mond stood for, declaring that the throne protected the freedom of Mond’s people and fulfilled Barbatos’s wishes. As you trusted and idolized your father, you also inherited his same ideologies, locking you into a permanent life of duty as you swore to help defend Mond’s royal family from harm.
You had made that promise when you were ten and had yet to doubt it, seven years later.
The door to your infirmary room swings open and you watch the healer, still fussing over your arm as he applies new bandages, jump slightly at the unexpected intrusion. Despite the pain medications that the Sisters had given you before the healer began his work, your arm still throbs in pain, causing you to let out a hiss as the healer moves your arm in the midst of his surprise. He mutters a slight apology, but you’re more distracted by the intruder.
Your eyes widen in surprise, not having expected the intruder to be none other than Prince Diluc. His eyes flicker to your arm and, despite how the pain medication swirls your vision and jumbles your thoughts, you can see the irked disappointment in his eyes at your injury. Such a wound only results in inconvenience for him as he now needs to have a temporary replacement knight, who is unfamiliar with his typical protocols and routines. The prince lets out a long sigh.
“What? My supposed best knight is unable to handle some cryo slimes?” Diluc scoffs derisively.
Since your birthday last year, your relationship with Diluc has improved somewhat. Speaking to him often resulted in stiff, awkward conversation, but it is an upgrade from before, where talking to the prince in an amicable manner wasn’t even an option. More often than not, it would be the prince initiating awkward conversation between the two of you, not quite sure how to interact with someone his age outside without the use of diplomatic charm. The prince, just under two years older than you, didn’t seem interested in being your friend, but you also weren’t sure what to make of his platonic advances.
But now, as you sat in the Cathedral’s infirmary, you realized Diluc wasn’t here to provide friendship. He was just here to lecture you about your mistake of choosing to fight an Abyss Mage, about how you should’ve just let another knight deal with him, and about how you should have sacrificed the potential safety of the throne for his immediate comfort.
“Wasn’t any slimes,” Your lips are heavy as you struggle to form the words without slurring them together. “Was an Abyss Mage. Cryo one.” Your mind churns as you try your absolute hardest to focus on the situation at hand. Diluc’s in the room, you remind yourself as you fight the urge to slump back and fall asleep. You stare at Diluc, eyelids drooping with fatigue. You notice your fresh bandages turning red once more, causing the healer to sigh and apply more to your arm.
The prince is silent, but you see a quick flash of fear pass over his face, followed by an expression of concern. Both emotions are short-lived as he readjusts his posture and presses his lips into a frown, crosses his arms, and shifts his weight onto one leg.
“You should not have fought an Abyss Ma-,” He begins, but a loud bark of a laugh erupts from your system, interrupting him.
“H… Have you ever fought anything?” Your words are accusatory and borderline incoherent, but the narrowing of Diluc’s eyes lets you know that he understood what you had just said. “All… all you do is sit around! And… and… and you waste your vision! Everyone does everything… for you… I fight to protect you… your family… I don’t want to get injured, but here I am…”
The healer, upon realizing that you’re disrespecting the crown prince of Mond, wordlessly excuses himself from the situation and slips past Diluc to exit the room. Diluc parts his lips, ready to speak again, as a scowl crosses his face at your disrespectful words. However, before the redhead can speak once more, you raise a shaky hand, holding up your middle finger to the prince.
“If you’re… if you’re just gonna lecture me for… risking my life… for you… eat shit.” You manage to say, words garbled. You relish in the widening of Diluc’s eyes as he opens his mouth to yell before closing your eyes and promptly falling asleep, slumping over on the infirmary bed.
---
You awoke the next day with no recollection of the prior day’s events, except an innate sense of satisfaction, as if you had gotten something off your chest. Nervous that you had potentially said something foul to someone you shouldn’t have, you awaited a formal reprimanding of your unknown actions, but never received one.
Now, two weeks in, you’re finally getting back to normal as you water the plants outside of the knight’s quarters, having been assigned to take care of the landscaping today. Despite the tasks being relatively easy, they took you a while to complete due to one of your arms being stuck in a sling. You crouch over, trying to balance as you lean forward to water one of the red flowers stuck in the back of the arrangement.
“Hey!” A voice calls, causing you to drop the watering can in surprise, the water sloshing over your feet and onto the cobblestone around you. You lose your balance and fall backwards, landing on your butt, but before you can lecture the person who scared you, you feel two hands place themselves on each side of your waist.
“Up we go!” A familiar voice sings before hoisting you up to stand back on your own two feet. You turn around and narrow your eyes at him, placing the hand holding the empty watering can on your hip. The blue-haired boy before you smiles unabashedly, utterly pleased with himself. “Anything to save a damsel in distress!” “Yeah, I’m definitely defenseless,” You grumble sarcastically as the boy takes the watering can from you. His physique has changed over the years due to his interest in becoming a high ranking Knight of Favonius, but both his azure eyes still gleam with childlike mischief. He nudges your uninjured arm playfully.
“Aw, cheer up! You’re the toughest one-armed fighter I know!” Kaeya jests. You roll your eyes in response, biting back a smirk at his antics.
“I’m the only one-armed fighter you know.” You respond as Kaeya gently grabs your wrist and guides you to the bench where the two of you typically sit.
“Two weeks ago. What happened?” Kaeya asks, gesturing to your arm. You tilt your head, confused at his question. Surely he’s heard about it by now..? You think to yourself.
“An Abyss Mage got past Mondstadt’s outer walls, I was on break when I saw it, and I had to fight it, sir.” You explain quickly, but Kaeya simply shakes his head in response.
“No, not that! What happened in the infirmary?” His voice is teasing, but your blood can’t help but run cold at his words. Your intuition that something had happened between the time you arrived at the infirmary and before you fell asleep was correct. Much to your chagrin, you hadn’t been able to remember your actions, but apparently they were remarkable enough for the younger prince to have heard about them.
You let out a groan and rub your free hand over your face, already mortified by your actions that you had no recollection of. Kaeya lets out a laugh.
“Diluc visited you,” He explains, causing you to let out an even louder, more obnoxious groan. You lean forward on the bench, resting your elbow in your knee and cradling your forehead in your uninjured hand.
“Oh gods, what did I say?” You whined. After years of friendship with the younger prince, he had insisted you no longer be so formal with him. Honorifics slipped into your speech on rare occasions, but you generally spoke to Kaeya in the same way you would speak to your friends back home in Springvale.
Kaeya laughs at your theatrics. “Well, you weren’t very nice. You told him to, and I quote, ‘eat shit’ if he wanted to yell at you.”
You let out a noise of horror and Kaeya’s laughter at your embarrassment shakes his whole body. Glancing at him out of the corner of your eye, the younger prince is absolutely delighted in your misery at the situation at hand.
“That’s not all! You also gave him the middle finger!” Kaeya giggles, nudging you as you continue your woeful theatrics. “You didn’t even use the right finger. You were trying to give him the middle finger but you used your pointer finger!”
You want to die. Heat is rising to your face so quickly that you swear you are going to faint. Kaeya pauses as your theatrics die down as you begin to hyperventilate, panicked at the situation at hand. Not only did you tell the crown prince to eat shit, you had also attempted to give him an inflammatory gesture and managed to mess up said gesture. Your career was over, you would become a disgrace to the nation, and, at the worst, you could be thrown in jail for such disrespect to the royal family.
You were a disgrace to the royal throne you swore your life to serve.
Heaving air in and out, you sit up, trying to keep your balance and not pass out from stress. Your eyes brim with tears and Kaeya looks at you in alarm. His hand finds your back, rubbing soothing circles that do little to placate your panic.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay!” He tries to soothe over your worries. “Someone had to tell Diluc that at some point!”
You let out a choked sob, leaning over once more. “T… that doesn’t help,” You whimpered. Kaeya’s blue eyes stare at your hunched over form, his blue irises swimming with regret and distress at your current state.
“Um… my dad found it funny?” Kaeya tries once more. Your sobs only worsen, causing Kaeya to clench his teeth at his own words.
“The king even knows about my irreverent actions?” You cry and Kaeya’s stress upon seeing your own stress only worsens. He wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you in for a side-hug, rubbing his hand up and down on your shoulder in a calming manner. “You’re not in trouble, Diluc’s not mad… anymore, at least.”
Your crying turns into soft sniffles and Kaeya thanks Barbatos that he was able to calm you down. Wiping your tears away with the back of your hand, you let out a shaky sigh.
“I can’t believe I did that,” You breathe and Kaeya lets out a soft, reassuring chuckle.
“We all make mistakes, plus you were on some heavy medication!” He pauses as you look over at him and bites his lip slightly, as if he wants to say something more. You look at him expectantly and he lets out a soft sigh of defeat at your watery eyes pleading for him to continue. “Plus… I think Diluc kinda likes it when you yell at him.”
“You’re gross,” You whine, voice still wet with tears, but you manage out a soft laugh after your words. “No, he doesn’t.” “You’d be surprised about how he feels about you,” Kaeya teases, but you detect faint traces of sincerity and, if you focus hard enough, jealousy. Rather than dwelling on hidden meanings, you elect to take the blue-haired boy’s words at face value, nudging him back and giving him a look of faux disgust before letting out a soft giggle. He laughs and squeezes your shoulder reassuringly. “You’re so much prettier when you laugh, (Y/N)!”
You let out a soft laugh at his words, “Yeah, I’m sure I look spectacular right now.”
---
Diluc spots you from afar, recognizing your familiar figure crouched over windwheel asters in front of the knight’s chambers. He’s perusing the grounds on a routine walk as his bumbling replacement Royal Knight clambers after him in your absence. The replacement knight is lanky and nervous, filling comfortable silence with nervous chatter, despite Diluc’s best attempts to dissuade him from such actions. He’s an archer with barely enough arm strength to pull the bowstring back.
The red-eyed prince would never admit it to anyone, but he missed you. Not only did you make Diluc feel far more secure than the inept oaf that could barely keep up with him, but Diluc also missed your presence. He missed how you would speak with a slight edge to your tone, adding a dual meaning to your respectful words. Diluc missed the challenge you would provide him.
Even if he was on his deathbed, Diluc would never admit how his heart rate quickened and how heat rose to his face when you yelled at him with the disdain he always showed you. He would never admit how worried he was when you immediately passed out after doing so, blood seeping past your haphazardly applied bandages and spilling onto the floor. No, Diluc would never admit how his thoughts over the last two weeks had primarily consisted of you, even though the two of you had not yet spoken.
Diluc wasn’t sure what to make of his thoughts, nor his altered emotions when you were around. Despite the fact that his tempestuous attitude made him detest the way you were constantly on his mind, a larger part of him wished to keep you close and have you serving the throne at his side once again.
The blundering knight catches up to Diluc as the redhead’s brisk pace slows to a halt as he observes you. After an unknown amount of time, the knight clears his throat, snapping Diluc out of his reverie. The redhead watches you for a moment more. His stomach churns as he watches his younger brother approach you, hold you close, and make you laugh.
Diluc isn’t sure what this feeling that’s gnawing away at his stomach is. A part of his brain tells him that it’s obvious, but Diluc denies such obvious truths, knowing he, one of royal blood, would feel such an emotion over a mere commoner and subordinate of his. Watching you with Kaeya, however, brings an immense frustration to the forefront of Diluc’s thoughts. A scowl forms on the crown prince’s face as he whips his head to the direction of the inept fool that’s been assigned to protect him.
“Let’s go,” He snaps. The knight shakily salutes in response, his composure shaken yet again by Diluc’s sour temperament.
---
Two more weeks pass and you’re officially freed from the restrictions placed upon your duties. After passing a clearance test at the Cathedral which resulted in the destruction of multiple training dummies, you were cleared for full duty as a Royal Knight once more. You were thrilled to be free from the chains of the menial labor you had been assigned for the last month and excited to get back to work, but such feelings were also accompanied with unease. You had a pit in your stomach at the thought of going back to serve the prince that you had so blatantly deprecated.
But, nonetheless, you enter Diluc’s chambers, your typical neutral expression adorning your face. The prince looks up from his desk, slightly startled by the intrusion, but a brief smirk crosses over his face at your presence before returning to a stoic expression, almost as if he was mimicking your own. He parts his lips to speak, but before he can, you drop yourself down on one knee, genuflecting in his direction. You don’t make eye contact, electing to stare down at your knee instead.
“Please forgive my spiteful words I uttered upon our last meeting, my liege,” You request, uttering the words you had practiced many times in the mirror this morning while getting ready. “I was not in the right frame of mind.”
Diluc stares down at you, expression unreadable. The silence is nearly unbearable, suffocating you as the tendrils of embarrassment and shame swirl up your legs, around your torso, and settle on your throat before pressing down, choking you of air. You feel a flush of heat rise to your face as the seconds tick on. You’re unsure if the prince is going to speak at all, let alone forgive you, but your doubts are quelled as he clears his throat.
You look up at him to see narrowed crimson hues staring down at you sternly.
“Very well. Do not say such things ever again,” Diluc warns. You jump to your feet and salute in his direction.
“Yes, sir!” You respond and the prince lets out a huff before returning his attention to the papers on his desk once more. You move to stand watch by the door, but the prince clearing his throat once more has you turning around to look at him again.
“Oh, and (Y/N)?” Diluc questions and you brace yourself, ready for him to unload his anger upon you. However, he does no such thing. “I have a meeting at nine with some Sumerian scholars interested in Mondstadt’s alchemic discoveries. Don’t let me be late.” The redhead doesn’t look up, already having begun moving his pen across the papers in front of him once more.
“Understood, sir.” You respond as you reach your typical spot by the door. You bite back a smile as you stand guard.
---
Over the next several months, you notice major changes in Diluc’s demeanor and attitude towards you. The prince is more confident, but in a less suffocating, arrogant manner, but rather a more charming manner. He remains an introvert, but his diplomatic meetings end up with far better results due to him learning to navigate the rough tides of foreign relationships and his mastering of hollow platitudes to placate any overseas dignitaries. He’s no longer a brash and tempestuous presence in the field of international relations, but one made of falsified smiles and foreign appeasement.
For once, you look at Diluc and see not only a prince, but the rightful heir to the throne.
The change isn’t instantaneous, but for Diluc’s personality to have made such a massive change in such a short time, you realize that there must be something the prince is trying to work toward or someone he desires to impress. Despite being at his side for almost his entire day, from when he starts work in the morning to when he retires to his chambers at night, you aren’t entirely sure what his motivation is.
You figure it’s likely something his father said to him, due to their frequent meetings you aren’t present for. Even from your earliest days working as Diluc’s bodyguard, you could tell he valued his familial relationships above all else. While he often remained hot-tempered with Kaeya, his relationship with his father was amicable and one Diluc cherished. From the few times you had been in King Crepus’s presence, the king had showcased what the throne of Mond should stand for; he put the freedom of his constituents first and reigned only to ensure order and protection for the people within Mond.
Your few interactions with the king had such a positive impact on you that they, along with your father’s actions, spurred you to join the Royal Knights. You could only imagine what type of influence the king’s constant presence had on Diluc.
Most noticeably of all, however, was Diluc’s attitude towards you. He was no Kaeya in terms of charm nor friendliness, but silences between the two of you were no longer forced and neither was conversation. The crown prince was more attentive to which types of conversation seemed to genuinely interest you, as compared to forced small talk. He also understood that silence wasn’t a form of punishment, nor did it signal that he was angry.
You wonder if he changed due to your conversation at the infirmary. Diluc lectured you less, sent less scornful looks your way, and insulted your skills less frequently. The changes had been so subtle that you hadn’t noticed how Diluc had blurred the lines between being a person whom you guard only due to obligation to someone you would protect without hesitation until the two of you browse Mondstadt’s yearly winter market together.
Diluc’s carmine irises glint with the reflection of the white Christmas lights adorning the square as he peered into the windows of a bakery. He seems quietly enraptured by a miniature palace that sat in the center of the cakes and other delicacies, made out of gingerbread. As you turn to look around at everyone else, ever vigilant, you notice the prince suddenly snap his gaze away from the display and look around wide-eyed.
You begin to reach for the hilt of your sword that rests on your back, but you freeze when Diluc’s vision stabilizes on you. His stance relaxes and the redhead offers you a small smile before waving for you to come over. You drop your hand that now rests on the hilt of your blade to your side and begin to walk over, watching as Diluc stares at you in slight confusion before letting out a soft laugh.
At that moment, you realize something that fourteen-year-old you would have loathed you for saying: you would call Prince Diluc a friend.
“Have you ever had gingerbread before?” Diluc asks, turning his gaze from you to read the label underneath the castle.
You nod your head. “It’s made with um… cinnamon… cloves… not sure what else, but the gingerbread in the window’s probably crunchy and… not really sweet? It relies on the taste of the spices within it, not sugar.”
The prince looks thoughtfully at the gingerbread palace once more. “I know what gingerbread is, but do people really eat these… ornate structures?” His tone is confused, but sincere. You let out a soft laugh of amusement. The old Diluc would have interpreted it as an act of derision, but current Diluc simply awaits your answer.
“Oh, that’s a tradition to put them into houses and buildings and such, but you can also shape it into little gingerbread men. Those are my favorite! Typically the smaller decorations are eaten first, but people don’t really eat the big houses,” You elaborate, excited to talk about the desserts as you also ogle the gingerbread display. Diluc looks at you halfway through your speech and smiles softly at your warm tone, pleased to have evoked such a reaction from you.
“Wait out here,” Diluc orders and, before you can protest, the crown prince slips into the shop, the bells on its door chiming softly as he enters. You stand by the door, your gaze moving from peering through the glass at Diluc to watching the commoners walk by. Only a few moments later, the bells chime once again as Diluc exits. A small paper bag is in his hand and he opens it up.
“Hold out your hand,” He orders in a sharp tone while looking into the bag. You comply, flattening your hand and holding it in front of you. Diluc plops a small gingerbread man in your hand. “It reminded me of you.”
The cookie is a traditional knight dressed in armor and is decorated with royal purple frosting and a white sword in its left hand. You stare at it for a moment, before a wide grin breaks out on your face, shattering your aloof expression.
“Thank you,” You murmur softly. Diluc’s cheeks flush red at your praise, but you attribute such a change in his appearance to be caused by the temperature change from exiting the warm building.
---
Diluc, you have come to find, is easily distracted by storefronts. Even his stoic demeanor cannot hide the childlike awe in his eyes when he sees something interesting in a window display. He’s dragged you in and out of numerous stores after being enraptured by objects in the windows. It’s bad enough that the both of you are now carrying bags of various trinkets he’s purchased with his seemingly limitless funds. Diluc, you note, doesn’t seem to get out much.
While you enjoy the chance to shop and explore Mondstadt’s seasonal festivities, you do not enjoy the snowfall that coats your hair and uniform as you wait outside each shop, standing watch. Despite being bundled up in layers, you’re still cold from standing still for so long.
Diluc exits yet another shop and stifles a yawn. “I believe I should head back now. It’s getting late,” He mutters and you simply nod in response, following his lead as he begins to walk back to the castle. The two of you walk in silence as the chatter of Mondstadt’s civilians and the crunching of your shoes on freshly fallen snow fill the gaps.
After a few minutes of trying to hold it in, you can’t help but shiver at the cold. You feel a bit of heat rise to your face, embarrassed that a knight of your stature is shivering due to cold, and it only multiplies as Diluc suddenly stops next to you.
“Are you cold?” The redhead asks, his gaze intense.
“No,” You lie, shaking your head. His eyes narrow.
“Take my scarf,” He orders, but you shake your head once more.
“I couldn’t possibly do such a thing,” You refuse politely, but Diluc isn’t having any of it.
“You’re cold, therefore take the scarf,” His explanation is rough and laced with the typical tone of annoyance you’re all too familiar with. He begins to unwind his scarf from around his neck.
“It’s my duty to ensure your comfort,” You protest. “Therefore, you keep the scarf as you should stay warm.”
“It would make me more comfortable if you wore the scarf instead.” Diluc argues and you swear you see his eye twitch slightly. “Plus, what kind of prince would I be if I let my constituents suffer on my behalf?”
Bullseye. He knew right where to hit you, despite his irate and annoyed tone. That bastard knew to appeal to your sense of honor in order to get you to do something. Begrudgingly, you hold out your hand to take the scarf, but before you can stop him, Diluc’s stepping close to you and wrapping the scarf around your neck for you. He forms two loose loops around your neck and you can feel his breath on your face as he looks at your neck. The prince’s leather-gloved fingertips brush against your neck as he adjusts the scarf and you watch his eyes narrow slightly in concentration as he fixes the scarf.
“There,” He almost sneers upon deciding that the scarf’s placement was adequate enough. “Now was that so hard?” Without waiting for your response, the prince turns and continues walking back to the castle. You pause for a moment, flustered, before jogging after him slightly to catch up.
The two of you continue your walk in silence, but the warmth of the scarf does nothing to eliminate the chill of the blade strapped to your back, reminding you that your and Diluc’s relationship is no more than one of contractual obligation.
---
Diluc’s kind behavior lasts for about two more years. The prince, now twenty, departs Mondstadt’s capital for three weeks, without you by his side. Diluc is now under protection of the king’s guards and a squadron of the Knights of Favonius as his father accompanies him on the journey to Fontaine, meaning that you get an extended vacation from your royal duties. You visit your home in Springvale during this break, aching to get back to work as the lack of activities slowly begins to drive you mad.
Your birthday occurs within this break period and, much to your surprise, a bouquet of red carnations is delivered to your doorstep as a gift from the prince himself. Diluc had never done such a gesture before and you ignore the way your heart beats a tad bit faster as you read the note settled amidst the beautiful, deep carmine blossoms. You recognize Diluc’s penmanship instantly as you spot the words ‘Happy birthday, (Y/N).’ sprawled across the card.
You smile softly to yourself and tuck the card back into the bouquet before admiring the blossoms. Brushing your fingers over the petals with a featherlight touch, you opt to set the vase on your dining room table rather than admire it for much longer. You’re certain a bouquet such flowers, considered exotic in Mondstadt, costs more than double your paycheck. You do not wish to dwell on such a thought for too long.
When your mother arrives home later that night, she pops her head into your room to say hello, a knowing smirk gracing her features.
“Who sent the flowers?” She asks in an amused tone as you bookmark the page of the book in your hands and close it in order to pay full attention to her. “Are you dating someone that I don’t know about?”
“Yuck, that’s weird,” You let out a soft laugh. “No, they were sent by the prince for my birthday.”
“Prince Diluc or Prince Kaeya?” Your mother asks, a mixture of surprise and concern in her voice.
“Prince Diluc,” You clarify, raising your eyebrows at her tone. “Why?”
“Red carnations have an… interesting meaning,” Your mother, a florist, explains. “...Interesting birthday gift.” You shrug off her implication and open up your book again, not wanting to hear your mother’s crazy theories about meanings of the flower bouquet.
“He probably just picked them because he likes the color red. Don’t sweat it too much,” You say absentmindedly, the pages of your book already drawing you back into reading. Your mother giggles, excusing herself from the conversation as she trots down the hallway.
For your own sanity, you choose not to dwell on her words. You planned to thank Diluc for his kindness
---
The nation is in mourning.
Diluc had returned last night, bloodied and traumatized, from his trip to Fontaine. Alongside of him, only half of the Royal Knight and Knight of Favonius combined unit that accompanied the royal family returned as well. The most notable absence, however, was King Crepus himself. Rumors immediately spread like wildfire, ranging from the idea of Diluc having killed the king to seize the throne all the way to a Fatui attack on the royal family. You’re doubtful that such outlandish notions are true.
The official declaration the following day proves you to be correct; the palace announces that the royal caravan had been attacked by a dragon, resulting in King Crepus’ death, the death of seven Royal Knights, and the death of three Knights of Favonius. Even the typically lively center of Springvale is no louder than a quiet whisper the following day as the nation grieves the loss of its leader and loyal knights.
Your heart hurts for both of the princes, knowing how difficult it is to lose a parent. You can only imagine how much harder it is when their next moves and responses to their father’s death will only become fodder for royal gossip. The throne, which you had sworn to protect, was now vacant, but such an event had been out of your hands. You hadn’t been allowed to accompany the royal family on their journey and, without a vision, you would have likely been killed if you had gone anyways.
However, upon the palace’s announcement of the king’s death, it was also announced that Prince Diluc would not immediately be crowned due to “unforeseen stipulations” King Crepus had left behind in his will. This information, of course, immediately became gossip amongst the townsfolk, ranging from Diluc needing to find a bride before marrying to ideas that Diluc needed to obtain an Anemo vision before being allowed to lead the nation. You were wary about such ideas and figured Diluc had prepared for whatever requirements his father had left for him.
Three days after the death of King Crepus, each Royal Knight, including yourself, receives orders that they no longer work at the palace. Ordo Favonius takes over these claims, allowing any Royal Knight to join their ranks. You want to believe that Diluc wouldn’t just shut you out like this, but you know better. Diluc never wanted any Royal Knights by his side and, after his father’s death due to a lack of adequate knights, certainly wouldn’t want a visionless personal guard. You had almost died fighting an Abyss Mage, for archon’s sake. How would you be able to protect Diluc from a dragon?
The death of his father meant the end of your contract with the prince. You knew this would happen one day. You ignore the feelings of sadness that blossom in your chest at such a thought, contributing them to the (hopefully) temporary end of the Royal Knights as an organization. Your sadness is not over your lack of connection with the elder prince, you tell yourself, but rather grief over the career path you had sworn to follow upon finishing training.
Once Diluc sets his mind to something, it’s almost impossible to sway him from such thoughts. Therefore, ignoring the clenching of your heart, you sign away your future to the Knights of Favonius and agree to participate in a training assessment in order to determine your new title and which sector you would join the ranks of within Ordo Favonius.
Your only regret about the time with the Knights is that you did not have a chance to say goodbye to either prince.
---
A week later, you receive your placement within the Knights of Favonius. Despite your lack of expertise in such an area, you had been appointed to the Cavalry Unit within the Knights of Favonius ranks. You weren’t unfamiliar with a horse; you had scored highly on your cavalry usage exams in training. However, you hadn’t ridden one since your appointment to the Royal Knights.
Upon your arrival to your first day of your new position, you learned you weren’t the only new face within the unit. Five other Royal Knights had been placed within the Cavalry Unit as well. Most shocking of all, however, was the the appointment of a new Cavalry Captain, especially since the knight chosen for the position was none other than Prince Kaeya himself.
The blue-haired prince, now sporting an eyepatch and a cryo vision, looked equally as confused to see you as you were to see him. Rather than sporting his typical jovial attitude, he simply nodded his acknowledgement of your presence. Kaeya was your superior now, after all, meaning he couldn’t showcase favoritism. The prince announced a few changes to the cavalry unit. First, you were to address Kaeya as ‘captain’ and not ‘prince’. Second, the cavalry unit would focus on securing Mondstadt’s perimeter, along with the perimeter of any outer villages as needed. Thirdly, the point Kaeya elaborated the least on, there was to be no talk of the royal family unless essential to the tasks at hand.
As he finishes his speech, you salute and chant your understanding with your new comrades. You can’t help but wonder why Kaeya now wears said eyepatch and why he has a new vision. Despite you having seen him a month ago, the blue-eyed boy now seems lightyears away from you, as if he was sand falling through the cracks of your hands without you even realizing.
---
Two years pass and, due to your work ethic in comparison to other Cavalry Unit members, you ascend in the ranks of your unit. Being one of the top five members of the thirty member unit meant that you and Kaeya spent more time together. You slowly watched as the blue-haired man began to revert to the boy he once was, but he never fully regressed to his childlike state. For starters, Kaeya is far more secretive than he used to be, electing to use little white lies to avoid conflict and any deep, meaningful conversations. There is a profound sadness that mars his powerful stature that wasn’t there before.
In the words he does exchange with you, his brother is never mentioned. The thought of bringing such a topic up to Kaeya makes your tongue heavy, the words remaining unspoken. Instead, Kaeya elects to talk about easily digestible topics in brief phases, such as small talk about the weather, unimportant chatter about military gossip, and hushed conversations about current trends in Mondstadt.
Kaeya has plunged himself into a self-imposed exile within the icy waters of his mind and you lack the proper equipment to save him. You can only watch as he disappears into the salty blue depths of anguish from the safety of the shore, unsure how to lend a helping hand. You are crafted from the sharp blades of swords, untrained in the studies of alchemical healing.
The blue-haired prince’s spirits only rise in the spirits of others, namely the ones sold by Angel’s Share. Every Friday night, as a mandatory “team bonding” activity, Kaeya and the four other highest ranking members of the Cavalry Unit, which unfortunately includes you, collectively go to Angel’s Share and get absolutely wasted, making blubbering fools of themselves. Tonight, just like every other Friday night, you can tell when Kaeya’s on his third drink as he begins to ramble about the history of Angel’s Share. He noisily explains how Angel’s Share is the legendary bar founded by the first King of Mondstadt before he had obtained the throne. During this time period, you slip a few spare mora to the poor waitress having to deal with your rowdy group who will inevitably throw the bill of tonight’s drunken activities on the backs of taxpayers.
You spend your evening nursing a glass of grape juice, wary eyes darting around the room in an analytical habit you had picked up from your job years prior. Old habits die hard after all. You watch as the first two fellow unit members excuse themselves the bar, deciding to stumble out before they could completely disgrace themselves.
It isn’t until Kaeya’s sixth glass of Death After Noon that the rest of the unit calls it quits, wobbling their way back home. One glance at the prince has you signaling to the bartender to cut the prince’s supply off. You stand up and walk over to Kaeya, who suddenly looks elated that you’re here.
“(Y/N)! My favorite!” Kaeya exclaims from his seat, pulling you into a bone-crushing hug and forcing you to rest your hand on the table for balance. “You came for my birthday party!”
“It’s not your birthday, Captain,” You respond. Your heart clenches at his carefree tone, reminded of your teenage years with the boy. The smell of his alcohol-laden breath dispels such naively hopeful notions and you push yourself out of his loosened grip. “Alright, it’s time to go home.”
“Home?” Kaeya asks, his revealed iris glistening with confusion. “Why? It’s not fun there… the party’s here!” The prince is pliable as you hoist him up and swing his arm around your shoulder, clutching onto his waist for support. Archons, the prince was heavy. You take a small step and, despite the alcohol fuzzing his brain, Kaeya seems to understand and stumbles alongside of you.
Once again, you are no more than a glorified babysitter.
You fish the bag of mora Kaeya brought with him out of his back pocket and the prince giggles as you unceremoniously toss the bag out on the table and drag him out of the bar. The two of you walk in silence for a few minutes before Kaeya begins to chant your name over and over. Despite your annoyance, you decide to indulge him.
“What.” Your words lack any form of sincerity, embittered with the situation at hand. Kaeya reaches over and pokes your cheek with a free hand.
“I miss you, y’know?” Kaeya croons, before he smiles with watery eyes. “All the time. You’re always on my mind.”
Oh Barbatos, here we go, you think. You had encountered the prince while intoxicated numerous times before, but never before this had he directed his sappiness in your direction.
“Y’know why?” He teases, slurring his words slightly. You continue to trudge on in silence, shifting him slightly to try to make it easier to carry him along. Kaeya frowns at your silence. “Guess why!” His words are a demand and you have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes. Any chivalrous respect you had for Prince Kaeya was now absolutely demolished, due to both his public intoxication and the comforting fact that he wouldn’t remember any of this conversation in the morning.
“Why?” You ask unenthusiastically, knowing he won’t leave you alone until you do so.
“Because I’m in love with you, silly! I’ve been in love with you since we were sixteen,” At his confession, you almost drop him. Your blood runs cold, but you trudge on nonetheless. An oath to protect the royal family persists even if one drunkenly confesses their love to you. Your heart clenches with pain for Kaeya, wishing you could have realized his feelings sooner. Maybe it would have alleviated some of the pain he carries each day and tries to wash away through copious amounts of liquor.
He burps loudly and lets out a bitter laugh. “You’re so… so pretty. And strong! But… he fancied you first! I can’t compete…” The man trails off, seemingly losing track of what he’s saying, stumbling through his words. “I can’t compete with royal blood.”
Your hand slips off his waist and the two of you are sent tumbling into the ground as Kaeya’s arm around your shoulder drags you down with him.
---
Your legs are shaking from exertion as you guide Kaeya through the darkened hallways of the castle, softly shushing him and pulling him closer to you each time he tries to twist away from your grip to cause drunken havoc on the hallway decorations. His free hand trails across the stone walls as he giggles at their texture, having forgotten all about his woeful, self-pitying cries from earlier. As you round the corner to enter the hallway consisting of the chambers of both princes, Kaeya’s quiet amusement with the ornate tapestries that adorn the walls stops.
“We’re home!” Kaeya yells and you immediately shush him, absolutely terrified of waking up a certain redhead.
The corridor reeks of familiarity, nearly suffocating you with nostalgia for simpler, happier times. The decorations have barely changed, aside from a new vase by the door to Kaeya’s room.
“It’s been so long since I’ve seen you around here, (Y/N)!” Kaeya cheers and you shush him once more, silently pleading with Barbatos to shut the blue-haired prince up. If anyone nearby was unaware of your disgraceful return to the palace grounds, they certainly knew now. His voice drops in volume a bit, still far too loud for this time of night, but better than his raucous hollering as the two of you approach his door. "Would you like to come in, my fair lady? I know many ways to pleasure a woman."
You’ve sacrificed every Friday night for far too long for Prince Kaeya. You love him while he’s sober, but now? You absolutely despise his drunken antics.
"The only pleasure I'll get tonight is finally being able to get rid of your drunken ass," you finally snap, nearly dropping Kaeya once more in mortification at your own words. You couldn't speak to a prince so callously, especially when you were stone-cold sober.
Kaeya pauses before throwing himself into a fit of drunken laughter. "You're so cute but you're so mean, (Y/N)!"
You ignore his antics, realizing the best course of action is to get the rowdy prince in his room where he can scream to his heart’s content. You turn the knob of the door and shove Kaeya into the room, causing him to let out a nervous giggle.
“You’re coming in?” He exclaims and lets out a gasp of surprise. “But wait, I’m shy!” He throws his hand dramatically to his forehead, pretending to faint as the back of his palm lightly brushes it. You let out a loud grunt as the dumb bastard son of a bitch motherfucker drops the entirety of his weight on you. Unable to support him any longer, the prince falls to the ground next to you and laughs. You finally understand why the young bartender at Cat’s Tail hates drunk people so much.
“Captain, get up,” You order, exhaustion creeping into your tone. You prod his stomach lightly with your foot as the drunken prince lets out a groan in response. He closes his eye, ready to fall asleep on the ground, but you manage to muster the last of your strength to pick him up bridal-style. After you rush over to his bed, you unceremoniously drop him on his plush mattress.
Your job is now done. You could strip his clothing down to make him more comfortable while sleeping, but you’re not sure if you can muster the energy to do so. Such an action is beyond the new jurisdiction of your duties as a Knight of Favonius. Plus, you’re fairly sure you’d never be able to look Kaeya in the eye again if you did do such a thing.
“Wait, my loyal knight,” Kaeya drunkenly slurs as you turn to leave his chambers. You bite back a sigh of defeat and turn to look at him with a blank expression. Internally, you’re trying to calm yourself down, utterly frustrated with the situation at hand. “Come here.”
When a prince calls for you, you unfortunately have to listen. You trudge over to Kaeya and place a hand on your hip, looking down at him. The prince shuffles around on his bed as he clumsily sits up, leaning on the headboard for support. You open your mouth to ask him what he needs, but before you can utter the words, Kaeya heaves forward and disperses the contents of his stomach all over your uniform before falling back into his pillows, passed out.
You are speechless as you look down at your clothing, now stained with the deep red-purple hues of the copious amounts of wine Kaeya had ingested earlier in the evening. Biting back the urge to throw up in return, especially as you feel the fabric of your clothes begin to dampen against your skin. You quickly ensure the prince is asleep before quite literally tearing off your soiled pants in disgust.
Despite the oath of fealty that bound you to your job, you briefly considered threatening to quit after tonight unless you got a raise. Now, you were pantless and soon-to-be shirtless due to the sheer incapability of being able to handle somebody else’s body fluids against your skin. Your eyes darted over to Kaeya’s closet and a lightbulb went off in your head.
---
You had taken one of the younger prince’s spare uniforms in his closet and left him a nicely written note explaining the situation. Rather than saying that he threw up on you, you simply wrote that your outfit had been torn while carrying him back to the palace. Some facts, you believed, were best left as secrets. The fabric bunched over your shoulders as you adjusted it to the best of your capabilities, trying to get the odd size to fit your figure properly as you silently cursed Kaeya for having such broad shoulders.
Wrapping your now shredded and sullied uniform into a ball and tucking it under your arm, you made sure Kaeya was asleep once more before stealthily sneaking your way to the door. In a way, you felt like Robin Hood, stealing from the rich to give to the poor, except the poor only consisted of yourself. It is not stealing if you give the uniform back upon request, you tell yourself as you quietly creak open the door. As you make your escape, you turn to face the door as you close it, gently pulling it towards you and holding onto the doorknob to ensure that the noise of the door settling into place would be quiet as possible.
The last thing you wanted was for a drunken Kaeya to wake back up and force you to read him a bedtime story. As the door settles into place, you let out a sigh of relief, only to hear someone clear their throat behind you. Your eyes widen in humiliation and fear and your shoulders cringe upwards as you stare at the door in front of you. Scratch that, this was the last thing you wanted. Rather than let it become any more awkward, you let out a soft breath and settle your expression into your typical stoic one before whirling around to face your fate.
In this instance, your fate is for your eyes to meet the familiar crimson-hued ones that you had not seen in years. Dressed in an ornate, stealthy black and white outfit, the man looks far older than when you had last seen him, as if the last two years had been incredibly hard on him. You had no doubt that they were. You watch as his eyes widen in both recognition and surprise as you fix your posture. A flash of hurt crosses his expression before his expression mimics your own neutral one and the two of you simply stare at each other for a few moments, unsure of what to make of the conversation.
You notice Diluc’s claymore is strapped to his back and he has a fresh bruise forming on his cheekbone. You don’t dare ask what happened to him. It’s no longer your place to worry over him, but you can’t help it as his irises glimmer with sadness upon seeing you. Despite his neutral face, his eyes shine with emotion, as if he’s heartbroken to see you.
“Uh, hello, sir,” You greet, breaking the silence as you try to gather your composure. You offer him a salute, trying your best to keep your arm from shaking in both anxiety and exhaustion.
“Hello..” Diluc echoes absentmindedly, as if his mind is elsewhere. He quickly seems to recollect his bearings as his eyes scan you up and down. “Did you two have a fun night?”
His tone is unreadable and, if coming from anyone else, you would assume his words to be a joke. You let out a nervous laugh and Diluc’s eyebrows raise slightly at the uncharacteristic noise. A gut feeling tells you to choose your next words carefully. Upon your silence, Diluc’s eyes narrow slightly.
“You are wearing his garments. It does not take a genius to figure out what the two of you were doing together,” He explains, his voice devoid of emotion. A wave of heat rises to your cheeks and you are thankful for the low hallway lighting as it helps hide your embarrassment.
“Oh, um…” You trail off, breaking eye contact with the redhead as you look down at your outfit. “It’s not like that. He… he threw up on me.” Your words are unconvincing. Despite you knowing the truth, your nerves make it sound as if you’re pulling lies out of thin air to cover yourself. Diluc, of course, notices such a thing as he echoes your words.
“...He threw up on you?” The elder prince repeats, disbelief coating his words as he narrows his eyes at you.
“Yes, my prince,” You confirm. Diluc seems unsettled by your verbal formalities, but you carry on nonetheless. “He indulged in a few… too many drinks at Angel’s Share. As his subordinate, I felt as if it was in my duties to bring him back to the palace. He then proceeded to… release the contents of his stomach onto my uniform. If you do not believe my words, sir, you can… look at the uniform…” You hold out the balled up uniform in front of you and the stench alone is enough to make Prince Diluc’s nose scrunch up.
“I believe you, (Y/N).” He responds after a moment of contemplation. Diluc goes quiet once more, but you still stand at the ready, not having been dismissed from the conversation. “How… how often does this happen?”
Diluc’s gaze tears away from you. He looks nervous to be asking such a question. You’re not quite sure what he’s implying with his seemingly loaded question. “If I may request for you to do so, could you please clarify your query, my prince?” You ask as his stoic expression returns and he stands up straight, having collected his thoughts.
“How often does Kaeya inconvenience you with his immature drunkenness?” Diluc asks, rubbing his hand over his jaw in exasperation. It’s unclear as to whether he’s exasperated with Kaeya or with you. Diluc’s eyebrows furrow in thought as he awaits your answer.
You think your answer over. Lying to the king-to-be definitely wouldn’t be ideal, but it would help Kaeya. You weren’t sure what was going on with Kaeya, but you knew he was hurting. The blue-haired boy you once knew would have turned his nose up at alcohol. Now, he was damaged enough to have turned to it as a coping mechanism. You are no fool; you see the way Kaeya cringes if there are too many candles lighting up the room each morning.
However, Diluc clearly cared enough about the situation to ask and a part of you was chanting to throw Kaeya under the bus for throwing up on you. You would just be issued another uniform and it was not as if you did not have a spare one in your closet. Plus, Kaeya’s problem was spiraling out of control.
“Once a week,” You answer. “Every Friday. Normally, the prince can make it back by himself, but I am typically relegated to being the sober official of the Knights of Favonius in fear that they’ll trash the place without any supervision.”
Diluc lets out a sigh. He turns around and begins to move back around. “I’ll see to it that such behavior of his is fixed. Dismissed.” The prince waves you off with a dismissive hand and you watch as he enters his chambers, the door closing softly behind him. In return, you walk out of the palace with your head held high, rather pleased with the way the conversation went considering the circumstances Diluc had found you in.
A small part of your heart twists at such an uneventful reunion, as if you had expected something more. You shake your head to try to eliminate such thoughts. You had merely been Prince Diluc’s subordinate, nothing more. Taking the compromising position Diluc had found you in, he had been more than fair to hear your explanation out and to even go so far as to offer to assist you with your troubles. It was your duty to serve the throne and not his duty to serve you, so why did part of you want more?
---
Diluc's definition of fixing Kaeya's behavior is, in fact, not to speak to kaeya about his behavior. Kaeya is none the wiser about his own actions as well, simply issuing a new uniform and a muttered apology about how you had to deal with his behavior. Unfortunately, you aren’t off the hook for the typical Friday night rendezvous at Angel’s Share. You begin to wonder if Diluc had forgotten his words to you as everything seems to be returning to normal. In fact, he probably didn’t care. He just said that to get you off his back, you tell yourself. It was probably too much of a nuisance to readjust Kaeya’s behavior, especially when Kaeya was so far up in the Ordo Favonius’s hierarchy of soldiers.
A visionless soldier like you was dispensable, but a strong prince with a cryo vision was not. Therefore, it only made sense for the Knights and Diluc to prioritize Kaeya’s comfort over your own.
The following Friday rolls around and you finally encounter your first change. As you arrive to early morning training, Kaeya tells you that the Acting Grand Master, Jean, wishes to speak with you. Having given up on Diluc enacting any possible changes to your regiment, you’re baffled as Jean hands you a set of new orders. Confusion is written on her face as well.
“You’re the only one with new orders,” Jean had told you. You weren’t sure if she was supposed to tell you that, but you figured she hoped you would have some explanation. “Especially orders as… odd as these.”
Her words make you actually read the piece of paper in your hands, rather than respectfully waiting until you left to do so.
“Oh,” The word tumbles out of your lips before you can stop it as you gape at the paper like a fish. You have been ordered, directly from the desk of King-to-be Diluc Ragnvindr, to return to the palace to be the elder prince’s royal bodyguard once more. You meet Jean’s expectant gaze with a look of confusion.
“If I may be so brave as to ask, do you know why you have been given such orders? Prince Diluc has been kind of… avoidant when it comes to the Knights as of late.” Jean asks. Her voice is kind like always, but you note a hint of curiosity within it. You can’t help her for being nosy.
“I was his bodyguard once before but..?” You shrug, not really knowing the answer. “He found me last week after Prince Kaeya threw up on me, but I doubt such a thing would have led to such a drastic change.”
Jean’s eyes light up in faint recognition and she softly smiles. “Oh, you were the bodyguard? That makes a bit more sense…” She trails off, lost in thought. “Hm, but such a rearrangement would only happen if he was preparing to… Never mind that, you said Prince Kaeya vomited? On you?”
You feel heat rise up to your cheeks as you nod. “Prince Kaeya is… not quite aware that he performed such… actions while intoxicated, so I would appreciate it if you could keep this a secret between us.”
The Acting Grand Master’s eyes shine with amusement and she lets out a soft, chime-like laugh. “Of course. Your secret is safe with me.”
You begin to walk out of Jean’s office, but freeze in your tracks. “I have one more question, if you don’t mind me asking,” You say. Jean nods for you to continue. “Why did Diluc choose me to be his bodyguard and not somebody with a vision?”
Jean lets out a melodic giggle, her blonde ponytail shaking as she does so. “I have my guesses, but I believe that’s only something the prince himself can answer.”
You nod in response, looking back down at your orders. “Thank you, Acting Grand Master.”
---
“You’re late,” A familiar voice admonishes you as you enter the throne room of the palace. It is a familiar room you had long since given up hope on ever seeing again, with gleaming gold and green accents adorning its stained glass windows. The room holds an intimidating yet freeing aura, but in your eyes, the most threatening thing in the ornate hall is not the gilded throne nor the massive marble statue of Barbatos, but rather Prince Diluc, who stands at the bottom of the steps that lead up to the throne.
Diluc adjusts his black gloves, ones you hadn’t seen him wear before, as he awaits for you to meet him in the center of the room. The click of your uniform’s boots against the tile and the soft clinking of your sheathed sword against your belt fills the room, reverberating through the open space as the sounds fill the silent void between you and Diluc.
“My apologies, my prince,” You state, bowing in respect. Diluc stares at you with an unreadable expression.
“You always were the type for formalities,” He muses almost wistfully, but catches himself and clears his throat. “Nonetheless, such impropriety will not be viewed upon well in the future.”
You stand up straight and salute him. “Understood, sir.”
Amusement dances in Diluc’s carmine irises as your gesture. “Welcome back, (Y/N).” He says, holding out a hand for you to shake. You shake his hand firmly, appreciative to see his amiability had not disappeared in your absence. As you drop his hand, Diluc seems to sense the unspoken question that rests on your tongue.
“There are no other Royal Knights yet. I do not trust any other knights to be capable of doing their jobs,” Diluc explains briefly before moving past you and out of the throne room, beckoning for you to follow. You fall in line alongside him, listening as he details your duties. For a moment, you’re seventeen and naive again, wondering what happened to the previous impression you had of the prince.
---
Two months pass and, in many ways, it's as if you had never left. Yet, the man you are designated to guard is more reserved with those around him, but the bluntness with his emotions remains. If Diluc isn’t happy with a situation, he’s not one to hide it, except for the sake of diplomacy. Despite not sharing blood with his brother, the two of them hold the same sadness in their shoulders when no one is watching, burdened by the secrets of the world. You stare at Diluc far more often than you do his younger brother, justifying such actions with your duties in an attempt to ignore the fact that you find the elder prince easy on the eyes.
Diluc looks at you too. When your duty is to observe, you tend to pick up on things quickly, especially the long glances Diluc sends your way when your attention is elsewhere. Your thoughts often consist of the secrets Kaeya had divulged to you in his drunken state, but you shove such nonsense out of your head. Kaeya had no place to speak on Diluc’s behalf and you determined that he was likely only projecting his own insecurities on Diluc. A selfish part of you still yearned for Kaeya’s words to be true each time you would notice the elder prince’s gaze to be upon you, but your duty prevailed over all. Unable to pinpoint why you felt this way, you would simply stare straight ahead, acting oblivious to Diluc’s gaze.
The distance between the two of you closes, both physically and emotionally. Diluc stays close enough to you that your elbows brush against each other while walking and you contribute such actions to Diluc being nervous after his father’s death. He’s much more touchy, reaching out to you with subtle gestures to make sure you’re near, rather than verbally reassuring your distance. If the two of you are outside the palace grounds and the prince is distracted by something, he’ll reach out to ensure that you’re still close.
If you aren’t nearby, Diluc will snap out of whatever daze he’s in and look around frantically for you, as if you had disappeared into thin air. The sheer panic in his eyes has taught you to stay close to him.
Diluc values your opinion. Previously, when he would have suffered in silence, the two of you have small conversations about issues he may be facing in his life, such as how to deal with a petulant Fontaine diplomat who doesn’t know how to take the word “no” as an answer. Diluc enjoys the new perspective you bring to the table, but he doesn’t let you in much farther. For his heaviest burdens, Diluc elects to keep to himself.
For that reason, you do not ask about his brother. You only provide your condolences on the day of his father’s death and make yourself available if he needs you.
---
Six months into your new appointment under Diluc, you finally gather the courage to ask a question you have desired to ask since your first day. You bite your lip slightly as you drop your gaze from guarding the door and instead flicker your gaze over to Diluc, who is sitting in a red velvet armchair by the crackling fireplace. The two of you are within the spacious area of his father’s study, soon to be his own, but such a room is still rather unfamiliar to you. The unknown territory of the room pushes you to move the unknown territory of the question you desire to ask.
“Um, sir?” You ask, uncharacteristically nervous. Diluc’s eyes immediately break away from the pages of his book, startled by you speaking. Normally, Diluc was the one to initiate conversation.
“Yes, (Y/N)?” He asks patiently and you feel heat rise to your face once more. Why are you flustered? you ask yourself as Diluc gazes at you intensely, awaiting your words with earnest.
“Apologies if I’m… overstepping by asking,” You begin and a flash of worry briefly crosses the prince’s face before he raises his eyebrows in intrigue. “But… why have you not ascended to the throne yet?”
The prince flushes a deep scarlet. He fumbles slightly with the book in his hands and looks down at it nervously. Such bashfulness is uncharacteristic of him, but then again, being so forthright was abnormal for you. Had you overstepped boundaries? Nervousness begins to claw at your stomach and climb up your throat, but the feelings are quickly quelled as Diluc clears his throat and smiles softly down at his book, trying to gather his bearings before responding.
The prince looks at you, but fails to make eye contact. “My father was a bit… peculiar in the guidelines I must follow in order to become king.” His fingers tap lightly on the cover of his book as he lets out a soft sigh, clearly unnerved by your question, but not wanting to make much of it. The prince is now twenty-three. Surely you could not have been the first person to ask him such a question?
“Oh,” You respond quickly. “I apologize if I overstepped any boundaries. Thank you for your answer, my prince.” A stoic expression quickly plasters itself on your face as you retreat back into yourself and Diluc’s eyebrows furrow at your reaction.
“It was not a bothersome question, just one I… had not been expecting, that’s all,” Diluc says, reading directly into the way you had closed yourself off. He notices the way your posture relaxes at such a statement and his eyes soften. “A few others are aware of the stipulations, so there is no such way I can circumvent them.”
“Ah,” You murmur before speaking once more. “Are the conditions to become king difficult?”
Diluc finally meets your eyes, a wistful look on his face. “They aren’t. I am just… not quite sure if the timing is right or how to broach the subject of them.” His voice is barely above a low rumble, but you hear him perfectly.
Your heart clenches at his words. You don’t know why.
---
Diluc’s twenty-fourth birthday rolls around and, when compared to every prior birthday of his in the past, the palace is ablaze with life. Mond’s economy had taken a slight downturn in its luxury goods market and Diluc had agreed to help bolster the industry by hosting a diplomatic birthday of sorts. Invite the richest people within Teyvat to explore Mondstadt and all its palace has to offer, conveniently place luxury goods within the vicinity, and the markets for said items are guaranteed to increase in demand. Diluc had explained all of this to you, including going in depth on the economics, and ordered you to put together a temporary unit of knights to serve as security at the party.
Such merriment and festivities would not lead to joy for you, but rather more work hours and stress. Assembling a team of competent enough fighters was difficult enough. Many within the Knights of Favonius were kind, but easily influenced, meaning that they were untrustworthy to leave within the realms of foreign dignitaries and prying eyes. Ultimately, you had settled on a trustworthy team of twenty core knights, all assigned to different positions within the ballroom. Some were framed as servers, some were framed as partygoers, and others would simply be required to wear their knight uniforms and guard the entrances and exits.
Despite security being a massive event, the biggest outlier was not the people who would be attending the party, but outsiders wishing to take advantage of such important people congregated in a single event. For that reason, all other knights were stationed within other parts of the palace and around its perimeter, in order to secure the area for the party. You weren’t too worried about the people inside as any foul moves would lead to massive geopolitical repercussions against any evildoers.
As for you, you were assigned to be Diluc’s right-hand knight, guarding his side at the party. While you were always ready to perform your assigned duty, you couldn’t help but wish you had door duty, as such a position would not require the diplomatic ass-kissing you were obligated to perform.
Now, as you stood at Diluc’s side near the center of the room, you weren’t sure what to make of the situation. The prince was effortlessly calming and smooth in his conversations with potentially hostile foreign dignitaries. Hell, he was even being respectful to the Fatui, even though you knew he likely wanted to ram his head through a wall speaking to the sleazy minions of the Tsaritsa.
What you hadn’t expected, however, were the wine trays floating throughout the room. You and Diluc were both aware to only take appetizers and drinks alike from a specific server, not wanting the elder prince or you, the head of security for the event, to have contaminated food. However, as Diluc drank his third glass of wine, you were beginning to wonder if you would be able to keep up. Finishing off your second, you smiled politely at the server and politely declined a second glass, ignoring the look of confusion Diluc sent your way. You already felt tipsy. The last thing you wanted was to be unable to do your job.
“Ah, Prince Diluc!” A vaguely familiar voice calls from behind you and Diluc the moment Diluc finishes speaking with a diplomat from Natlan. How do I know that voice? You ask yourself before feeling your thoughts swim a bit due to the alcohol. You silently cursed yourself for accepting the drinks at all, but when the first round of drinks had appeared, Diluc himself had taken one for you. How could you have said no to a request from your prince?
You and Diluc both turn around to see the intruder and you recognize him immediately. Dottore, one of the eleven Fatui Harbingers, stood before you and Diluc, a wide grin on his face. Immediately suppressing a groan and forcing your expression to stay neutral, you silently curse the fact that Harbingers made it on the guest list, especially one as irritating as Dottore. At his best, the man was an arrogant asshat. At his worst, Dottore was downright psychopathic with little regard for the people around him. You knew Diluc was aware of such things, but the prince had to stomach such disdain for the harbinger and at least attempt for a polite conversation.
“This is quite a lovely party,” Dottore compliments, but such praise from him is only worth about as far as you can throw it. “Mond is quite a prosperous nation.”
Your gaze flickers between Dottore and Diluc as they exchange meaningless pleasantries. You lose track of their conversation, electing to scan the room (and watch Dottore) for any potential threats or foul moves. However, you’re quickly snapped back to the conversation as Dottore’s attention turns to you, his masked red eyes boring into yours.
“You are the prince’s security detail?” Dottore’s words are less of a question and more of a statement, as if he already knows the answer. You avoid glancing at Diluc and instead meet Dottore’s gaze straight on and hold out your hand.
“Knight (Y/N), sir.” You respond and Dottore laughs crookedly while shaking your hand with a grip far too aggressive for your liking.
“Ah, aren’t you an… interesting specimen,” Much to your behest, Dottore takes your hand in his own gloved one and looks at it, as if he’s inspecting you. “You are his only personal knight at this event yet you are visionless… Quite an intriguing move for a prince who flaunts his so proudly.”
Your eyes instinctively move to look at Diluc, whose brows are furrowed and eyes glistening with anger at the situation unfolding. Diluc clears his throat and immediately returns his expression to one of neutrality as he realizes your gaze is now upon him. “Dottore, are you not one to believe that humanity is more than their visions?”
Dottore drops your hand unceremoniously and you quickly retract it to your side in fear that such an event happens again. He chuckles at Diluc’s words and turns to look at the prince once more. “Of course. I just simply never took you as the type to share my beliefs.”
Despite neither of them owning an Electro vision, the air between the two men crackles with energy. Dottore grins as Diluc glowers, eager to see if the refined prince’s composure shatters. The Harbinger knows he’s pinpointed Diluc’s weak spot, so rather than continuing the rather unamusing staring contest, Dottore’s gaze returns to you once more. He casts you a saccharine smile, dripping with insecurity, as he leans in close to you.
“I must believe you have some tricks up your sleeve. I look forward to seeing what they are,” The Harbinger’s tone drops to a low, sultry one as Dottore’s hot breath fans over your face, reeking of the odd combination of mint and wine. His words are not an expectation, but rather a promise. After a second more of leering at you, Dottore is sensible enough to realize Diluc’s limited patience is waning, so he takes a step back and stands up straight. “Nonetheless, I must make my exit now. Prince Diluc, as nice as it was to speak with you, I understand your wish not to share your toys.”
Just as quickly as he had appeared, the Harbinger disappears into the crowd. You look over at the prince standing near you. He takes a sidestep closer to you and for a split second, you’re reminded of the Prince Diluc you once knew, the one who could barely contain his anger and derision and took such feelings out on his subordinates verbally. The contempt Diluc feels for the situation that just unfolded is written all over his face, but he quickly gathers his composure. Knowing him well enough, you can sense the irritation radiating off him in waves, but you dare not comment on it.
Before another diplomat can intervene, Diluc leans in close to you, voice no more than a low whisper. “Dottore is up to something.”
---
Diluc, in his typical stubborn nature, refuses to let the Dottore situation go. Two hours afterwards, long after his mood had returned to normal, Diluc is excusing himself to use the bathroom, signaling for you to follow him. However, the elder prince remains silent as the two of you walk past the bathroom and into the chambers that had been converted to house foreign dignitaries who would stay the night and leave in the morning. The prince glances up and down the hallway frantically, making sure nobody is following. His pace is hurried, as if he’s looking for something.
You’re smart enough to realize Diluc’s only silent when he desires for others to be as well, but the two of you have been walking long enough that you part your lips to speak. Before you can utter the words, Diluc is opening the door closest to the two of you.
“Here,” He mutters and before you can follow, the prince grabs your arm and pulls you in after him, immediately letting you go afterwards. You were utterly baffled as to what room the two of you were even in, considering you had barely been in this part of the palace before. “Dottore’s room.” Diluc explains.
That’s a shitty explanation, you think. With the alcohol in your system, you are spurred to question his decisions, something you never would dare to do sober.
“With all due respect, sir, why are we raiding Dottore’s room?” You state as Diluc crouches down to look underneath Dottore’s bed. You silently question why that’s the first place the prince bothers looking, rather than looking in a more normal place, such as Dottore’s desk drawers or the suitcases lined against the wall.
Diluc lets out a huff of air at your words, but doesn’t admonish you for them. “He’s up to something,” Diluc mutters absentmindedly.
“I know he’s a suspicious character and he’s Fatui, but all he did was disrespect you with his words. Does that really mean he’s up to something?” You ask and Diluc pauses through rifling through the limited possessions the Harbinger had brought to Mondstadt. Still crouched down, the prince turns to look at you with an expression of confusion at your words.
“You aren’t normally like this,” Diluc states plainly and you feel your face heat up in embarrassment. He squints his eyes in an attempt to read your stoic expression in the dark. He lets out a sigh, unable to come to a conclusion, and returns back to looking through Dottore’s stuff. “He was clearly challenging me. He’s hiding something and wants me to find it.”
With Diluc’s back turned to you, you roll your eyes. Why are men always like this?
“Maybe he was just flirting,” You suggest, your tone annoyed.
“I was n-” Diluc pauses and clears his throat. “I mean, he was not flirting with you.” He sounds outraged that you would even discuss such a thing.
“Sir, his words had that weird kind of aura to them. With all due respect, I believe I’m not ugly enough that he wouldn’t flirt with me. He just sounded kind of horny,” You say, as if such a thing should be obvious. Diluc freezes completely and stands up, turning to look at you. His eyes are blown wide at your words and, in your alcoholic stupor, you’re unaware of the egregious unprofessionalism of your words. The prince steps closer to you, his crimson gaze boring into yours.
“Archons,” He mutters after a few seconds. “They didn’t serve you grape juice, did they?”
“Nope,” You respond in a gleeful voice, popping your mouth at the end of the word. “Were they supposed to?” You ask cluelessly, leaning on the wall behind you.
Diluc lets out a frustrated huff, but it doesn’t seem directed at you. “Barbatos, they had one job,” He mutters to himself before walking over to Dottore’s desk and bending over to look at the contents of the desk drawers. “Anyways, just watch the door. That’s an order.”
Even in your tipsiness, you are aware enough to sense Diluc’s frustration at the situation, so you bite your tongue and watch the door. Your gaze flutters between the elder prince and the door, unable to focus on your assigned duty as the alcohol swirls through your system. The elder prince’s noisy actions of rifling through files draws your attention and you look over at him, eyebrows raised. However, what catches your attention is a glint of white in his back pocket.
“What’s in your pocket?” You ask, causing Diluc to let out a frustrated huff.
“I said to watch the door,” Diluc reminds you in a harsh tone, but by now, you know the prince is all bark and no bite.
“I have two eyes,” You respond combatively. Diluc sighs, knowing this is a fight he won’t win. “One to watch you and one to watch the door.”
“That is quite literally not how vision works, (Y/N),” Diluc tries to explain, but knows there’s no reasoning with alcohol. He’s encountered his brother enough times after his drunken escapades to know when to give up. “Just… use both to watch the door.”
“Tell me what’s in your pocket and I will,” Your words are dangerous and if Diluc wasn’t fond of you, he could easily have thrown you in prison for saying such things.
“We’re done in here,” Diluc states after a few moments of ignoring you, placing the final file back into its rightful position and dusting himself off. He walks over to you and pulls the white object out of his pocket, holding it out to you. “It’s a mask, by the way.”
“Okay,” You say, taking the mask in your hand. You’re not far enough gone to try putting it on, so you simply slip it into your own pocket. “What’s in the other pocket, then, sir?” You ask, a sly smirk appearing on your face. Diluc flusters at your mischievous expression as he brushes past you to exit the room.
“Nothing.” He responds, but you know otherwise. As the two of you exit into the hallway, you take advantage of the fact that the prince had exited Dottore’s room before you and you quickly snatch the object in his other pocket. You had only seen the outline of it, but now that it rests in your hands, you’re utterly baffled as to why he would hide such a thing.
“What is this?” You ask, holding the object away from Diluc as he whirls around, trying to grab the object from your hand.
“Stop acting like a child, (Y/N),” Diluc warns, but there’s a faint desperation in his voice. “It’s my Vision.”
“This isn’t your Vision,” You state, staring at him with furrowed brows. “Your Vision looks different from this.”
Before you can theorize any more about what the faux-Vision in your hands is, Diluc opens the door closest to the two of you and pulls you in rather roughly by the arm. You only tighten your grip on the object in response.
“Could you be any louder, (Y/N)? Barbatos, it’s just a Vision, but it’s not mine. Give it back.” Diluc orders, but you simply smirk at him as the two of you stand in the dark of the supply closet he had cornered you in. The light filtering from underneath the door allows him to barely see your expression, despite the overall darkness of the room. His hand fumbles against the wall before the room is lit in a soft orange light as his hand finds an unlit candle near the door.
“Hm,” You say upon seeing his glowering expression. He looks absolutely furious, but for once you aren’t living in fear of such an expression. In fact, he looks rather delicio- “Make me, Diluc.” The words tumble out of your lips, sultry and sweet, before you can even finish processing your own thoughts. Right now, for once in your life, you have the chance to make Prince Diluc beg and you are relishing in the moment, in all of its unprofessional glory.
Diluc’s eyes flash with anger and as he angrily grips your wrist and shoves you back into the shelf behind you. The wood juts into your back and you let out a soft cry of both surprise and pain as objects begin to clatter off the shelf around the two of you. Taking advantage of your surprise at his forcefulness, Diluc manages to wrangle the object out of your hand and he fastens it securely in within his breast pocket, away from your prying, tipsy hands. As Diluc’s harsh grip on your wrist fails to falter, you feel tears bubble up in your eyes, unable to hold them back. Okay, maybe you had more than two drinks, you tell yourself.
Before you can stop them, more words are spilling out of your mouth, but they’re no longer the empowered ones you wish you could say.
“I do everything for you,” you blubber pathetically and watch as Diluc’s eyes widen at your tone. “And the one time i want something in return, just to know something about you, you’re mean to me.” Before you can stop them, you’ve activated the waterworks, tears freefalling down your cheeks. The only word to describe Diluc’s expression is terrified.
“N... no, don’t cry.” Diluc’s grip on your wrist loosens, but he still holds it close, his other free arm pulling you in by your waist into a comforting hug. His gestures and words are stiff as if he’s not sure how to do this. You’re fairly sure the two of you are breaking each and every code of conduct at this moment, but for now, you don’t care. His hand rubs the small of your back in a comforting motion, his thumb trailing up and down the part of your wrist that he likely bruised. “You’re my best knight, the only one I can trust, it’s… okay. Please don’t cry.”
The prince’s words are frantic and softly spoken, as if he’s trying his best to pull compliments out of thin air to stop your tears. Despite him not being very good at comforting you, your sobs start to subside into small hiccups as you bury your head into the spot between his shoulder and neck. You feel him stiffen at the gesture. Nonetheless, he pulls you into a tighter one armed hug.
After you manage to get your tipsy tears under control, you let out a shaky sigh before continuing with your words. “Why do you never let me in? I swore my life to protect you. I’d do anything for you. but you just shut me out every time,” You whisper, voice still stained with the tears you had just cried out. In the morning, you’d be mortified with your words, but for now, you brain is encouraging you to continue. Diluc pulls away from you and cups his hands on the side of your face, using his thumbs to wipe away your tear stains.
“You’re too valuable to waste your tears on someone like me.” Diluc mutters as the pads of his fingers soak up the salty tears. His tone is saddened from your actions.
“Answer the question, Diluc, please,” you beg, dropping the honorifics once more. You stare into his eyes, searching for an answer. You watch him inhale, as if he’s trying to muster up the courage to say something.
“Okay,” He breathes, eyes looking into yours for reassurance. “Okay.” His voice is more resolute as he repeats the words. “I don’t know how to keep you close without making you uncomfortable. I don’t know how much I should let you in without scaring you off. I feel this way because for the last six years, I’ve been in-”
Before he can finish his words, the door to the supply closet swings open. The bright light causes the both of you to flinch as a third voice gasps dramatically. You blink rapidly, trying to adjust your eyes to the bright lights from the hallway in order to understand what’s happening, your hand reaching up to the hilt of your sword.
“My, my, what a scandalous sight,” the voice (Dottore, you identify) croons and the two of you look on in mortification. “A prince and his knight having an illicit rendezvous in the janitorial closet.”
The two of you look out to see a small crowd of five people having gathered -- Dottore, his assistant, Kaeya, Jean, and another Fatui agent. You’re not sure why they’re all gathered outside, but what matters is that they’re now viewing you after having been caught in a broom closet with the king-to-be’s hands cupping your face and him staring into your eyes.
Fuck, you think as Diluc’s hands rescind from your face quickly, as if the water of your tears had scalded him.
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Learning how to use the runes with Caster Cu (FGO)
I spent 6 hrs writing the most shamelessly self-indulgent headcanons ever Here, Caster will teach the FGO master the basics of the runes. Follow the master as they learn a bit about their origins, face rigorous testing, make their own set of runes; and use them for the very first time!
*Disclaimer: These headcanons will focus on the use of the Elder Futhark runes. (In fgo, they use both elder and younger futhark) As I’ve only been researching the Nordic runes for around 9 months, please take these headcanons with a pinch of salt! (also, fgo master will be gender neutral! Please enjoy.)
As soon as you broach the topic to him, Caster Cu’s face pales considerably; as images of Odin hanging upside down on the world tree for 9 days permeate his mind. Hopefully you weren’t asking him if you could do that... you weren't, right?
‘Shit...I knew this day would come.’ Awkwardly lowering his hood over his face (so then he can avoid looking at your expectant expression); Caster sighs. “Ah, yeah...Rune magic. Sure, I’ll teach you later...yeah, later.”
Hoping that his bluff is successful, he tries to dematerialize away as fast as possible. However, once you latch onto his pale blue coat to ask what you should do first, he finally caves in; knowing that there’s no way for him to worm his way out of this perilous situation.
“You know, you could try asking Skadi. Or how about Shishou? There’s a hell of a lot of other servants who know bits and pieces about the runes as well. How about you give ‘em a try first?”
When you admit that you want to learn from him, due to your deep appreciation for his extremely flashy use of the runes; Caster stifles a laugh. Yep, there really was no room for escape now.
“Well, I can’t fault you for that; I do look pretty damn cool in action!” Twirling his staff, Caster strikes a pose. “But I don’t get it. You’re already training in other arts. Why would you wanna load rune magic on top of that? You like drowning yourself in work or something??”
As you excitedly flapped your arms around, explaining how you liked watching him trace sparkling runes with his hands; and wanted to take his tree branch summoning skills for yourself, his eyes widen with surprise. He wasn’t expecting you to be this observant.
“Ah, you mean the Berkana/Berkano (ᛒ) rune? Yeah, that one represents the birch tree, so I can summon it. It also commonly symbolizes new beginnings and fertility...” Caster trails off as your braincells physically implode at his explanation.
Berkana? Birch trees? Fertility?! You had no idea what he was talking about right now. As a dour silence weighs heavily upon the two of you, a lightbulb of inspiration strikes Caster right in the head.
“Oi, master. Read up a little on the runes, and remember at least some of their names first. As your new teacher, that’ll be your first assignment. See ya!” And with that, he was gone, vanishing into thin air. Realizing that he had just agreed to teach you, your face sparkles with glee. Clenching your fists with all of your might, you march towards the library. Time would wait for no man!!!!
Exchanging friendly greetings with Murasaki, as you trundle through an entire emporium of books; it takes hours for you to find a book on the runes. Many of the books were in a language that you couldn’t read, however this one looked rather easy on the eyes.
Titled ‘Easy Rune Magic for Modern Mages’, you flick through a rather simplistic guide that provides you with the names and a single definition for each rune; but it provides you with little to no information on how to truly understand their meaning. With subheadings such as ‘How to use the Fehu (ᚠ) rune to generate wealth to pay for your magecraft PHD at the Clock Tower’ and ‘Is Thurisaz (ᚦ) more effective to use as a defensive spell or curse spell?’ you were officially BAMBOOZLED. Tired, you decide to throw in the towel for today.
However, on your way back to your room, a stroke of excellent luck manifests itself before you. Situated upon a sturdy pine table are none other than Sigurd and Byrnhildr, who are reading together. Although you find this scene to be rather adorable (seeing as they were both entirely intact, with no stabbing wounds to be seen); you decided to interrupt their date anyway.
“O-oh, master...” Byrnhildr blushes, as Sigurd waves politely. “What brings you here today?” Slamming your hands on the table, you passionately declare that you wish to learn more about the runes, but can’t understand them without gaining some insight into their history first. As Brynhildr’s eyes glimmer with a sense of appreciation at your open display of interest of their culture, Sigurd haphazardly pulls out the chair next to them.
“I’m glad to see you profess such a profound interest in the runes, master. Please sit down and join us.” Glasses sparkling ominously, Sigurd explains a little bit more about how the elder futhark runes work. He not only explains how Odin discovered their wisdom after hanging from the world tree Yggdrasil; but also tells you about how Odin shared their power with humankind, making him none other than the ‘Allfather’ of the runes.
At the mention of his name, Byrnhild’s expression sours somewhat; making you realize that the two most likely share personal ties with him.
“They’re a special alphabet that we can use to invoke the power and wisdom of the Norse gods, so be careful with them.”
Sigurd then goes on to explain how all 24 runes are separated into three Aetts- which are basically a means of dividing the runic characters into different categories.
“Each rune comes with a short poem. That way, you’ll be able to understand them and their context a little more.”
Once you thank him for the information, he replies with a “I hope I was of use. I’m very proud of you for asking us for help.”; as Byrnhildr returns with an entire truckload of books tucked within her arms!!!
“These books will be helpful! This one’s about the myths associated with the runes, and this one is a practical guide that’ll help cultivate understanding. As for this one, it explains their etymology.”
Byrnhildr chuckles at your gobsmacked expression, as the two of them heap the books into your own arms. “You don’t need to know everything about them, but it’ll be handy for you to develop a little bit of historical and lexical knowledge as well.”
‘I thought I only had to know their names and descriptions...!!’ Tears pooling within your eyes at the mountain of books, you thank them for their help and leave, as they wish you all the best with your studies (and prayed that one day you’d wish to speak to them in the language as well. They couldn’t wait for that opportunity!)
Sighing all the way back to your room, you gasp in surprise as you bump into none other than Skadi.
“Oh, good timing.” Passing you a bundle of golden-trimmed strips of ancient paper, Skadi smiles vigorously. “You can use these as flash cards for your rune training, as well. I’m surprised that you didn’t ask for my guidance, but that may have been for the best. I would’ve trained you thoroughly in the arts.”
A chill jolts through your spine at that. Who knows just how hard she would’ve trained you? Part of Skadi was Scathach, after all. Thanking her for her assistance, the two of you split paths.
‘I seem to be bumping into a lot of people today...’
Was this a mere coincidence, or perhaps something more?
A busy month full of book reading and writing notes onto your flash cards passes within a blur.
Mash had also shown great interest in your studies, and would help test you with your flashcards every day! However, you were still pretty confused about how long this stage of research would last for.
Whilst reading up on how runes could also be used to predict the future and provide advice for one’s dilemmas; and how the Nornir (3 deities of fate) determined this form of divination, you groan.
All of the people within the books had their own sets of runes, which they would use to communicate with the gods.
In other words, they could be used for divination as well as magic.
‘Why can’t I do that yet?’ You pout indignantly; snapping the book shut.
If Caster wouldn’t teach you rune magic, he could at least teach you about divination! Patience running thin, you decide to leap back into action.
It was time to confront your teacher, once and for all.
However, as soon as you exit your room; you are greeted by none other than Caster himself.
Almost tripping onto the floor with surprise, you gawp in shock at his appearance. With his staff and a mouth-watering cup of Darjeeling tea he had brought from one of Marie’s posthumous tea parties in his hands, Caster smirks. “Yo, master. Looks like I came just on time.”
As the two of you settle in the canteen for class (?), after a bit of small talk; you declare that you want to learn how to use the runes for divination. “If you won’t teach me magic, then I would like to learn how to communicate with the runes first, please!”
At this, he lets out an unusually loud guffaw of laughter. “Ahaha, so you finally worked it out, huh? Before you can use their magic; you gotta understand and communicate with the runes, as well. You’re a faster learner than I thought you’d be.”
Unsure whether this was a compliment or not, you enquire as to what he means by that. “It’s pretty simple: you can’t cast these bad boys without building a relationship with them first. On that note, let’s see how much you’ve learnt from your studies.”
His test is a nightmare.
As he barks the name of each rune from the First Aett (the first eight runes), you are forced to draw each and every one. If you get a rune wrong, he repeats it consistently until you draw the right alphabet for each one.
Afterwards, he takes you through a hellish journey as he asks you to provide at least one definition for each rune.
By the time you are done, night has already swept its veil over Chaldea; the halls devoid of any signs of life.
In other words, the two of you had been at this for the entire evening, which had definitely garnered you both the attention and pity of many staff and servants.
Stomach rumbling, you beg Caster to finish class for today.
“Yeah, sure. Whoops, looks like I got a bit carried away right there.” He has definitely inherited his deadly teaching style from Scathach.
When you ask him if you’re ready for the next bout of training; he frowns. “Nope, that was only the First Aett. You’ll only move to the next stage when you’ve memorized all THREE. In other words, get to learning all 24 runes!!” As you cry in despair, Caster shoots you a mischievous wink as he helps himself to the bar.
The dreaded tests continue on a weekly basis.
Not only do you have to deal with the challenges of the saving the world, helping out your allies and maintaining your own health; you also have to leap into the hellish jaws of rune testing with Caster Cu.
Albeit suffering greatly from the challenge, your spirit was also greatly roused. Learning about the runes was fun!
So much fun, that you’d often dream about them, and see their shapes in the food that you ate; and would even accidentally use their names in conversation sometimes, like saying: “Oh, I’m sure the energy of this rune would help with your headaches,” to a very bewildered Mash; or comparing the sunrise to the runes (which confused Shakespeare and Hans greatly. Actually, they are now worried about your health).
All in all, your studies were starting to take effect!!
It was finally time.
As Caster more or less yelled the name of each rune at you, your response was astounding. Not only were you able to draw the shape of every rune in a matter of seconds, you could also provide multiple readings for all 24 of them.
Eyebrows quirked with surprise, Caster sighs with relief. ‘Phew. Looks like class will be shorter than usual today.’
“Holy shit. You’ve done a damn great job, master. You got them all right!” As you roared with joy, pumping your fists into the air with glee; Caster almost fell off his chair- clutching his sides as he tried (yet failed) not to laugh. “Alright, buckle up. We’re gonna get you a set of runes now.”
A set of runes?! Your eyes sparkled at the prospect of finally being able to have runes of your own. It was about time, as well. You had grown sick of using your flash cards, you wanted the real thing!
However, you were confused about the concept of needing your own set. If Skadi and Caster Cu could manifest them just by using their hands, and magical devices; why would a person need to have a set of them? As you expressed your concern, Caster nods his head in understanding.
“I see your point. But even I have a set of runes, you know? It’s every bit as useful a method.” Unleashing a small, worn-out felt pouch; glimmering gems -whose rune inscriptions were engraved upon them in gold- splashed across the dining table. They were beautiful. “’Sides, there’s something exciting about making your own set.”
Your mind swims with excitement, as he describes the different materials that runes can be made from: bones, metal, gemstones, pebbles, glass, clay...there were endless options.
However, when you asked him if you could use your collection of Evil Bones to make a rune set, he chokes on his coffee- pure horror drenched across his features.
“No way in hell! You trying to get yourself killed? Never invoke the power of the runes on cursed items, master.” 
Then how about using QP or Mana Prisms as a base to inscribe the runes instead? Once you suggested this, his face paled somewhat. “Yeah, about that...don’t even think about it. You need those materials, you know.”
Grumpily threading his hands through blue locks of hair, he sighs. “Look, I’ll help you find some materials. Guess we could rayshift the next time I’m free or something...” As you cheer exuberantly, he can’t help but crack a small smile.
Being a teacher was a lot more amusing than he originally anticipated it to be. There was something fun about departing his knowledge. Besides, he had dedicated himself to becoming the guiding light of Chaldea anyway. ‘A little teaching hurts no-one.’
Using the light of the Soliwo (ᛊ) rune to guide the way, the two of you traverse through a forest heaving with verdant green trees and wildlife.
No matter how many pretty trees and tumbled pebbles you found by the riverside; you weren’t sure if they were the right material for you.
Just when you were about to give up, a powerful jolt of electricity beckons you; almost as if it’s calling your name. As soon as you alert Caster of your instinctual powers, he looks rather flummoxed at first; but is somewhat awed once his Soliwo rune’s light begins to shine in exactly the same direction as the one you’re pointing in!
‘Huh, that sure is weird.’
Things only get weirder, once you both come upon a ginormous slab of Labradorite. Situated neatly upon a bed of leaves. Placed carefully within the middle of the forest.
This timing was too good to be true.
As the electricity coursing through your veins triples in intensity, Caster has to hold you back before you cut loose. “Oi, wait up. Let me test this stone for safety first.”
Placing an Algiz (ᛉ) runestone in your hands to guarantee your protection, he saunters towards the massive hunk of Labradorite.
Chanting an incantation beneath his breath, the forest glows in an eerie blue light; as a pale magic circle glimmers beneath the stone. “Yeah, it’s safe. Pretty strange for it to be out here, though.”
As he sketches Thurisaz (ᚦ) (which not only symbolizes thorns, defense and danger, but can also be used as a means to channel a power akin to Thor’s hammer, mlonjir) onto his staff, he smashes it against the mass of Labradorite; splitting what was once an enormous rock into 24 neatly divided; brilliant blue gems.
Gathering them up, he thrusts them before you. “Here you go. That was a pretty lucky find, if I do say so myself.”
You thank him for your help- making sure to also pay homage to the awesome power of your intuition at the same time, which tickles Caster right in the funny bone.
As soon as the stones drop into your hand; they crackle with an immensely powerful energy, as if these gems were waiting for you!!
As you turn them onto the side; you are gobsmacked to see rune inscriptions already engraved onto each and every stone, as if they were reacting to the mana flowing within your body.
You ask Caster to take a look at this strange phenomenon for you.
“Whoa, are you kidding me? That’s pretty awesome. Let me take a look, too.” As you gently stretch your palms towards Caster- trying to keep the runestones steady in your hands- he gently takes your palms, leaning towards them.
As he catches sight of the engravings lying upon them, his crimson eyes widen with bewilderment. “Holy shit...I think the gods just made you an offering. You’re secretly packing a shitload of power in there, ain’t you? Great job!”
Ruffling your hair, Caster grins. “Think you’ve got time for more teaching?”
As you nod your head, anticipation clear on your features; he plonks onto the ground, handing you a felt pouch. “Put them in there. Try doing your first reading, see what rune speaks to you first!”
Eagerly plonking all 24 runes into the sparkly pouch, you close your eyes and concentrate; beseeching the contact of the gods. Imagining yourself encountering the Nonrnir, as you visualize dropping into the center of the world; you place a hand within your pouch.
Rummaging around the bag, a single rune sends energy rippling through your fingers. That was the one! Pulling it out of the bag, you grin excitedly...only to see that it was none other than...
Nauthiz (ᚾ).
‘Aw shite...’ Disappointed by the rune, you sigh. You wished that your rune could’ve been a more positive one! However, Caster’s reaction was rather different to yours.
“Hey, it’s not as bad as it looks.” Figure illuminated by the sun, he looked much more chill than usual. “Nauthiz is all about your needs, you know? With all the singularities popping up recently, I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re pushing yourself too far.”
“But this rune is basically saying ‘lol you’re suffering’...It’s frustrating.” You counter him.
You knew all too well about the massive strains your body was going through, the transformations you were forced to undergo. Sometimes, it was just too painful for you to bear. Seeing this rune only served as a reminder of that fact.
“How about you look at it from a different perspective? Even though things are way outta wack for you, a small fire still burns. Doesn’t Nauthiz look a bit like two twigs that you’d see in a fire?” Now that was a funny observation. As you smiled at that, he continued. “It just means that no matter how hard things become; all you gotta do is balance your needs and continue to fight. Nauthiz is also screaming ‘oi, damnit! Don’t give up here, you can survive and make it out the other side sparkling like brand new, you hear me??’”
You were very grateful to hear that. Now you realized that even the most ominous of runes also came with signs of fortune and peace.
In other words, they would be there to support you all the way. Thanking him for his great insight, he replies with a simple “Well, I’m the wise one you know? Anyway, you know the saying. Even the coldest of ice thaws someday.”
As you correctly link his adage to the runes, he claps with pride. “Nice, nice. Well, that’ll be all for my teaching. Soon you’ll be able to do readings with nine or more runes!”
But once you yell to him about how you want to use runes such as Kenaz (ᚲ) to fulfil your long-standing desire to set shit on fire; his expression hardens.
“I ain’t teaching you rune magic until you learn how to master rune divination. Don’t push your luck too far~ Come visit me again once you learn how to read the past, present and future with them!” As you indigently complain about how you still want to summon birch trees, and about how difficult it was to learn about the runes; he bursts into rancorous laughter. “That’s not my problem! C’mon, lay off a little...”
Frustrated, you finally give up, asking for one last request. “Caster. What rune will you get if you do a single reading? I would like to see.”
Begrudgingly adhering to your request, he unearths none other than the Ansuz (ᚨ) rune.
“Ah, my favorite. Well, that’s it for today. Let’s go back.” As he turns away, a frightening wind blows through the trees, as a dark shadow drifts over his figure.
In that very moment, he becomes a dark specter within a bountiful forest filled with brilliant light; as his form briefly flickers and shifts, melding into an entire kaleidoscope of distinct beings.
But all it took was a single blink for his form to return back to normal again.
How strange...Was that none other than an illusion? Were your eyes playing tricks with you? Silently trailing behind, you contemplated the meaning behind the rune he had drawn.
Ansuz...It commonly symbolized communication, breath, and chiefly of all...it was the rune that represented none other than Odin himself.
In addition to that, you saw how the rune landed on its side when Caster drew it, and the mysterious glint in his eyes.
Was Caster hiding something? You couldn’t quite put your finger on it.
‘Just who is Caster Cu really?’ Such a thought weighed dangerously heavy within your mind as the two of you took the steep path back home.
By learning more about the runes, you may have unlocked the door to an endless chasm of mysteries; one that had ties directly linking to the deeper truths lying behind Chaldea...
THE END
Omg this was only meant to be like 1,000 words. But I got extremely invested within this concept and was burning with great excitement, which lead to this becoming SUPER LONG XD Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this ;; Also dw learning runes in real life isn’t as hardcore as this, I promise you!
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frostsong · 3 years
Text
9—07: speculate.
rating: T
characters: original characters, douceline de dansereau, archombadin de dzemael, jannequinard de durendaire
tags: polyamory (jannequinard/douceline/archombadin), pre-endwalker
summary: part of her wants to believe she’s not the reason why they’re coming along in the first place. the other part of her wishes for nothing more.
wordcount: 2920
And so it’s come to this.
Douceline, the Warrior of Light, the Savior of Ishgard, the Pillars’ own prodigal daughter—was to be accompanied by not only one, but two scholars of Ishgard: one, a son of the High Houses and current prefect of Saint Endalim’s Scholasticate, Archombadin de Dzemael—and the other, another (thankfully) lesser heir, belonging to House Durendaire, Jannequinard of the Athenaeum Astrologicum.
Neither took no for an answer in spite of her attempts at rebuffing them, and so she eventually conceded, while her fellow scions looked on with varying levels of amusement and exasperation (the latter notably belonging to a certain snow-haired dragoon, arms crossed and back pressed to a pillar while trying to keep the two lalafells at bay with their pestering questions as to what he knew of these two men).
Of course neither man intended to be a hindrance to their cause. Both were fervent in what they could bring to the table. Jannequinard’s was perhaps the most obvious, given his years spent studying (regardless of how productively he’d spent them) in Old Sharlayan, he would be a boon to their group in the know-hows and social etiquette of their destination.
 Archombadin sought to have a more diplomatic role, as one of the best minds the Scholasticate had to offer, and while his role was more subtle in contributing to their efforts, he—and a few vocal individuals in the House of Lords—wished for diplomatic relations between the two nations. Archombadin knew it would be a daunting task, for the Sharlayans chose to be removed from the world stage by policy, if their motto wasn’t enough proof of their stance. But clearly, it was the outsiders that needed to act first in their case—at the very least, some sort of trade or recognition could be had, and no matter how miniscule of a success they would achieve, he was adamant on being there to see it happen.
(Such a speech was one he’d given on three different occasions: one, to himself in his bedroom—two, to his elders at the dinner table—and three, to Douceline and the scions, under the Fortemps gazebo).
And how did she feel about all of this? Douceline divided her time between the Rising Stones and her home city, assisting in whatever ways she could (which were many, and for that her spare time suffered) while fulfilling whatever obligations she had promised on the way back and forth. Who would’ve known that in the approximate week she’d spent away at the Source could leave so much unattended business, so many requests-bordering-on-demands, all awaiting her attention. 
The people that knew her, loved her best, saw her less and less, and whatever chances she had to spend time with them were never enough.
So she supposed that having them with her could be a blessing in disguise. Douceline had revealed to them both the extent of the light’s damage on her body: the way her formerly pure-white scales were now veined in gold, and how that gold crept all the way through to the under-layer of her rose-gold hair. Bared under direct sunlight, Douceline shimmered and she hated it. As if the dragon blood that had been forced upon her years ago, bringing with it the scales and sharp canines had been a foretaste compared to what agony the light’s corruption had been to her. 
And of course they still took her in with open arms (or in Archombadin’s case, a tight squeeze of his gloved hand around her own) and asked of her safety, her well being. For even though she had been home at the moment, both men were smart enough to know not to depend merely on what they saw. After all, she had only been gone for a relatively short amount of time, only to return physically and mentally changed. 
And she answered them, elaborated for them, about the things she couldn’t say abroad, alone, or even amongst her other companions. About how she didn’t know whether or not she was doing the right thing. About whether or not she could do anything to help. 
About how she was actually very, very afraid.
(Part of her wants to believe she’s not the reason why they’re coming along in the first place. The other part of her wishes for nothing more.) 
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Douceline raised her head, blinking as the doors of the Scholasticate library were thrown open.
Jannequinard, with his feet at a hurried pace under his alb, bore a widespread grin as he approached the two at the long table. 
“I say, if we’re to work amongst one another, we ought to all meet together in one place.” Dou offered him a soft smile over an open book, while her pale-haired companion grumbled something that most certainly wasn’t on the page he was facing.
“Sorry, Janne—I was just helping Chomby with something.”
“As is your wont, dearest!” The so-called astrologian’s praise caused Archombadin to clench his jaw, irritation spiking another notch higher. He could never comprehend what she saw in him. Insufferable, incompetent and incessantly talkative—at the most, he could only respect the fact that she cared for him. And unfortunately, her feelings were requited in full. 
It takes all the restraint he has not to slam the book shut.
“If you need her for something—” 
“As a matter of fact, I’ll be needing you both.” The Durendaire’s lithe fingers are on the edge of her seat from behind, aiding her to rise from the chair.
The prefect quirked an eyebrow in suspicion.
“Both.” He echoed, feeling the little strength in him seep away as he faced the man in full, grim scowl meeting a widening grin, with Douceline standing befuddled in the middle.
“Both. No time like the present for tea and collaboration.” 
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“I said I’d teach you both a thing or two,” Janne lowered his teacup, meeting the matching plate with a delicate clink. 
“because you are both ever so dear to me—and with your well-being comes the well-being of our fellow countrymen!” He took a deep sigh, elated in the apparent righteousness of this odd arrangement all three of them found themselves in. Archombadin tried to focus on his reflection in the tea while Douceline nibbled on a checkerboard cookie, while the bespectacled astrologian continued his monologue:
“And to have you both at my side on my glorious return to the city, is a privilege I wouldn’t dare deny!”
“I’m glad you’ll be there too, Janne.” Dou parted from the lip of her cup with a tender smile, the tenderness evident all the way up to her eyes. 
“I was talking to Alisaie, actually. About what it’s like…” 
“Ask away, dearest! As your escort it’s only my bounden duty to be of service in whatever way I can.” And they carried on, while the fair-haired Dzemael attempted to fill his mind with other things. A handwritten list he was in the middle of finishing for Theomocent and the other prefects to use as a guide in his absence. A mental note to remember what items to forward to his servant to have brought as part of his necessities for their upcoming trip. And of course, whatever there was left to tell Lebrassoir next he visited, even if the door was closed and his former friend’s still turned the opposite direction...
“...but that is mere speculation. Archombadin, my friend, what say you?” 
The man in question blinked back into reality at the mention of his name. “We were talking about whether or not claw jewelry could be weaponized.” Douceline, the savior, elaborates before Jannequinard can guess that he wasn’t paying attention.
“...I suppose.” His brow knit in quiet contemplation, thumb and forefinger once again around the teacup handle.
“Though it would depend how much of a claw it would resemble...there is a difference between aesthetic and functionality.” Being the son of a heritage credited with the foremost skill and resources in developing their city’s architecture, he should know.
“Oh, there’s no need to consider whether or not they're pleasing to the eye!” Jannequinard blinked, as if perplexed at his companion’s assumption.
“They wind the fingers intricately. Like lacework. But with metals--gold and silver, I should imagine. Bronze is much too heavy for something on the fingers, no?”
“But Janne, you can use it as a weapon if they’re sharp enough, right?” Knowing all too well that her lover was prone to wandering off topic, Dou leaned in closer to bring him back to the matter at hand.
“Like the Ixali! Or the Amalj’aa. Or the dragons, even!” 
“Yes, of course! And we all know what damage they--” A screech of wrought iron against stone pavement, and Archombadin’s gaze shifts from the tea to the table in an instant. His eyes widened when he saw Douceline slumped from her chair, hand shielding her face and knees failing, sinking into a circle of rose-red fabric on the cold stone beneath her. Jannequinard stooped to her level first, hand on her back in both a protective and comforting hold, the merriment of his voice falling to a hushed, gentler tone. 
Bending to his knee, Archombadin cursed between clenched teeth--she’d complained of these sudden headaches happening more often, and absurdly requested for him not to worry. He could only guess how worse they had become since her return from that realm, where she claimed that a week in Eorzea felt like months in the place she’d been to. 
“H-here, darling--don’t worry, we’ll take care of you--” Jannequinard hoisted her up, one arm against her back and the other beneath her legs, where her skirts bunched thick and crumpled as he rose to his feet, sending Archombadin a look of what the silver-eyed seminarian could only perceive as badly-masked fear. In any other situation, he would’ve taken it for a sign of weakness--something he could dwell on with smug delight once alone. But now the Dzemael son wouldn’t dare, for he felt that same fear mirrored in the way he shuddered, lips parted in quivering breaths as he followed him back to the Belfry.
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He sent a linkpearl message home explaining that he would be delayed.
Now, he and Jannequinard remained in the sitting alcove, not far from the guest room where a house chirurgeon examined the sleeping Douceline. Archombadin couldn’t find it in him to simply sit, though he stood perfectly still compared to the maddening pace at which the other man strode to, back and forth as far as the walls would allow him.
“Fine, fine, she’ll be perfectly fine.” He uttered under a shaky breath, earning him a scowl from his sharp-eyed guest, who remained cross-armed and back to the wall adjacent to the window.
“We have the finest chirurgeons under our employ!” As Janne ran a hand through his slicked red hair, Archombadin knew he could have been arguing with no one but himself. Not that he expected anything else of how Janne would react under pressure.
“...But, who am I to talk?” Jannequinard’s silver hues suddenly weighed with something he hadn’t seen in them before. Remorse? Regret? The Archombadin of the past would be reeling in ill-gained joy at seeing the black sheep of the Durendaires so beaten, so dejected. But now he was genuinely concerned for whatever it could be that ailed him. Not that he was no longer irritated with the man--but seeing Douceline collapse and being able to do nothing but wait behind a closed door for the chirurgeons to do their work left him a tad unsettled, for the lack of a better word.
“...All I can offer is what I’ve seen and done. Nothing by the lectures, or the texts I was given. Astrology is an art that can heal, and yet all I could do was hurry her inside and have someone else do it for me.” Jannequinard’s head felt heavier by burdens of his past failures coming back to haunt him once again, the words of his elders and numerous detractors rearing their ugly heads and bringing back a sting to a wound he long believed was on the mend.
“What if--no, no I can’t--” He stops himself, stumbling into a cold and bitter laughter, his hand finding its way to his forehead.
“...I can’t allow myself to--” Archombadin can do nothing but listen, blinking in confusion and interest at what could be going through the astrologian’s mind at this very moment.
“It’s...the next time. We won’t be here. You know,” Jannequinard licked his lips and swallowed hard, facing the carpet of the floor at their feet.
“...we’ll be in Sharlayan soon. We’ll have our friends, yes--but we’ll have our fair share of enemies, too. Heavens, maybe more of a share than we can chew--not again, no, I can’t-” 
“It’s perfectly understandable to have doubts.” Archombadin tries his best to reassure the man, who looked on edge of a breakdown. And he wasn’t looking forward to carrying him, especially when the man was in his own house.
“We’ll be going somewhere unfamiliar. Maybe to you it is, but we have reason to believe that much has changed since then. Or have you not paid heed to what the scions were discussing the other day?” He couldn’t help himself from falling back onto sarcasm once again, though this time it seemed to work a small bit, as Jannequinard nodded--though it seemed more to reassure himself back into a relatively healthier mindset than it was an answer to Archombadin’s question.
“Yes...yes, you’re right.” A trembling sigh, and though no smile appeared, the light in his eyes was a tad less dimmed than before when he turned to look at his companion.
“I just--I must become stronger. Though I’ve wasted years, it was thanks to the efforts of Douceline and Leveva, along with others that I’ve begun to truly learn and practice to my benefit--and more importantly, to that of others.” 
(With every word he seems to encourage himself, and perhaps that non stop tongue of his can be good for something, Archombadin thinks.)
“The stakes we faced were high. But because we overcame them, we are braver--stronger, because of it. And we’ll need to do even more of those things--and others--in order to face what awaits us in Sharlayan.” 
“I plan to do the same. Am in the middle of it, actually.” Could they really have found a rare plane of common ground? Wonders never cease.
“You use...the tomes, yes?” Janne blinked.
“Yes--amongst other things. But primarily the tomes. Grimoires…”
“I heard something about summoning soulkin. Is that the sort you do?” Archombadin cleared his throat, shoulders relaxing. At least they were on a less emotionally taxing topic...and one he could better contribute to.
And so he did well to explain the main points, starting broad and painfully narrowing to the finer details, enough for the other man to remain on track without going off on a tangent. Both had lost track of time when the door finally opened, and the chirurgeon reassured them of her state. To their relief, Douceline would only need rest and sleep, water and food. 
And of course, someone to make sure she was recovering just fine, though Jannequinard was generous to allow him to stay for the night.
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Late into the night, she was yet to awaken.
Changed into sleep clothes, both men lay as borders to her sides: Archombadin on her left and closer to the wall, Jannequinard on the right facing the door. The three flames on the candlelabra flickered feebly as the still-conscious houseguest flipped idly through a borrowed book he’d found on the shelf, though the contents of the text itself dulled with Douceline’s sleeping face ever in his peripheral vision. Archombadin was ever wary of any subtle changes in her condition, and refused to act as the second pair of eyes while Janne had one arm lazily draped atop her waist, eyes half-lidded not from fatigue, but of an odd comfort. Archombadin knew that he must have been awaiting her all this time, as well--before, her visits to Ishgard had been few and far-between, and now they all had the extraordinary chance to finally come along with her. 
Though not from the best of circumstances, this was time he valued.  All three of them, having found mutual agreement and definition of what exactly was between them, could find a source of comfort in one another. Before all this happened, Archombadin could have never imagined himself  in such an arrangement, but he was beginning to see what good could come of it, and what good he could do beyond the roles he’d defined for himself.
When her mouth twitched at the corner, both men’s hearts practically stopped.
One, two, five and ten seconds later, her eyes failed to open; but her mouth opened in a wide, wide ‘o’, breathing a content yawn as she tucked her head back into the pillow, fingers loosely bent against the fabric, the rise and fall of her chest at a steady rate.
Janne gave him a knowing, quiet smile as he shifted closer up against her, but much to the pale-haired heir’s surprise he nudged her closer to where he lay.
“‘Tis not every day.” Short and sweet, for both knew the implication far too well than they’d like to.
With the candles snuffed out, Archombadin allowed his fingers to brush ever so slightly against her own, for sleeping mere ilms away from her face was already more than he could ask for.
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bills-pokedex · 3 years
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Worldbuilding Month: Day 9
{I s2g somebody asked me whether or not Bill owns that lighthouse in this canon, but I can’t for the life of me find it. (I still have two asks for Worldbuilding Month, though, and as I continue to put off talking about the last two topics I actually walked into this month planning on talking about, I’mma probably going to answer those. :D)
Anyway, to respond to a question that Tumblr seems to have eaten, first off, yes. Bill calls the lighthouse the Sea Cottage because he thinks he’s hilarious when it comes to names, but its actual, full name is the Cerulean Cape Lighthouse. It’s been decommissioned for the past thirty-some years, though, since most sea routes have been diverted away from Cerulean Cape thanks to the Eastern Kanto Power Station—or, in other words, the Power Plant. You would think it’s actually because of Zapdos, but no, they just diverted it because you probably don’t want to have ships sailing too close to an active power plant, you know?
But the point is, it was decommissioned and actually abandoned until Bill came along and was like, “I have no idea who I have to shove money at to have this place, but I want this to be my home now.” And the town of Cerulean Cape—because there’s a town right there, between Cerulean City and Vermilion City—was like, “...okay.”
But that’s not quite as important as which canon does this blog even take place in?
(Oh, don’t worry. We’ll talk about Bill’s actual reputation with the locals at some point this month.)
The answer is ... all of them.
Or, well, most of them except Special and Pocket Monsters (the latter of which is the one where Red has a clefairy). I’ll get into why later, but first, let me explain how this works.
Gameverse Red is the same as Zenshou Red. He’s the one who fought Team Rocket at Saffron City, defeated the mysterious Viridian Gym Leader (and chased him out of the gym, basically—though he obviously doesn’t retire from a life of crime after this point), became champion, conceded championhood to Lance, and retreated to Mount Silver.
Ash Ketchum is the one who started out from Pallet Town and then ... did everything you probably are aware of thanks to the anime. (I ignore Electric Tales canon when it comes to Ash and Gary, though I adopt the hell out of it for every other character that appeared in it. Just ... just roll with it.) Ash and Gary are a year younger than Red and Blue, the latter of whom is Gary’s cousin. (Red has no relation to Ash.)
Consider all of the above to be Gen I. You’ll need this notation for later, so just keep it in mind.
That takes care of the first gen. Subsequent gens look like this:
- Most of the gens occur exactly as they do in canon, but wherever you have a choice between male or female avatars, it’s usually the female character who goes on to be the hero and champion. There’s really no reason for this, other than a joke I cracked with a reader of a sci-fi fic I write on the side, wherein someone noted the fact that Hilda and Rosa were champions, to which I responded with, “Yes, and Hilbert and Nate ran off to start a noodle cart together.” This turned out to be half-true. Hilbert and Nate ran off to start a noodle restaurant together. They’re gay, and Hilbert keeps inflicting terrible food ideas on the customers. But anyway.
- Another note: I realize in a previous post that I name each of the champions as ... not being the player characters. As in, according to the queer culture post, Steven, Diantha, Iris, and so on are still champion. The truth is that they’re actually ... not unless a character decided to hand the title back to them for one reason or another. That means that the best way to read the earlier post is by looking at it as, “This is a list I made with these characters as champion so I don’t have to immediately explain that these other characters are champion.”
- Gen II: This means that Lyra is indeed the Johtonian champion, with Ethan Gold (meaning, Ethan and Gold are the same person) not quite completing his journey. Crystal exists as well but quit her journey to become a researcher. It was Lyra who stopped Team Rocket’s attempt to take over Goldenrod City, although this plot didn’t have anything to do with finding and reaching out to Giovanni. Rather, it was just an attempt to use the Goldenrod Radio Tower to broadcast the frequency the Rockets had perfected at the Lake of Rage. (Lyra did not stop Team Rocket at Lake of Rage; that was Ash.)
- Incidentally, Giovanni never properly retired. He merely gave up the Viridian Gym after suspicions fell on him as to what he did on the side. To the majority of the public, he still maintains the facade of an upstanding businessman who cares about the people, and his cover story for giving up the gym was that he wished to focus more on his business pursuits. (This is why trying to prove that he’s a member of Team Rocket pisses Bill off just a little. Giovanni is just too good at covering his tracks.)
- Anyway, yeah, the branch of Team Rocket that tried to take over Goldenrod wasn’t trying to find Giovanni, as mentioned above, but rather establish a better foothold in Johto. They half-succeeded. Team Rocket still has a very strong presence in the region outside of Goldenrod, and the only reason why they don’t have Goldenrod is because that city’s already half run by the local yakuza and half run by criminal rings formed by Galarian immigrants, and neither of these groups have any interest in either joining Team Rocket or putting up with Rockets encroaching on their businesses. Lyra just defeated the executives at the Radio Tower, it was the locals who chased Team Rocket out of Goldenrod. With chains, knives, and guns, no less.
- Gen III: Emerald is the canon universe for Gen III, meaning both Groudon and Kyogre were awake at the same time. The western half of Hoenn was subsequently hit with a massive heatwave, while the eastern half was pounded with torrential rain. Lanette had been taken to Ever Grande for her safety early in the legendaries’ battle, and this is how she developed a phobia of intense storms.
- Sapphire Birch (daughter of Professor Birch) and Ruby Maple (son of the Petalburg Gym Leader) teamed up to summon Rayquaza and stop the battle, but it was Sapphire who caught Rayquaza and subsequently became both the hero and champion of Hoenn (by way of defeating Steven), until she conceded to Wallace. Ruby, who didn’t want the press, left Hoenn to continue his journey elsewhere. Sapphire is still a prominent trainer in Hoenn.
- The Delta Episode didn’t happen as it does in canon, but Zinnia exists in this world. She notes that it’s very different from both the one she came from and the one “the other her” was supposed to save. Deoxys was intercepted by the government and remains a pokémon known only to government officials and top-level Symposium researchers.
- Gen IV: Full disclosure: I never finished Platinum, so instead, I follow DP canon for the blog. No one knows what actually happened at the top of Mt. Coronet, including which legendary was awakened there. We do know that both Dawn and Lucas were present but not which one specifically saved the world. Both proceeded to become champions (Lucas defeated Cynthia, while Dawn defeated Lucas, then conceded the title back to Cynthia). Dawn then went back to Sandgem to resume her work as Professor Rowan’s assistant. Lucas went to the top of Mt. Coronet with an ancient artifact and hasn’t been seen since.
- Gen V: Hilbert was Hilda’s childhood friend and started alongside her but not with her (or Cheren or Bianca). They crossed paths numerous times until Hilbert decided training wasn’t for him and proceeded to retire. Hilda went on to become the Hero of Ideals and the champion of Unova, a title she almost immediately conceded to Iris (who she let defeat her so she could go off to find N).
- Gen V.5: Nate follows a similar story to Rosa: he was her childhood friend but not close enough to travel with her. Eventually, he met Hilbert, who talked him into becoming a business partner of sorts. Rosa, meanwhile, proceeded through the rest of the canon story, obtaining Reshiram from N and claiming the title of champion for herself. She’s still the champion of Unova ... and the only one who knows where N (and by extent, Hilda) are at any given time.
- Both Black City and White Forest exist. They’re right next to each other. Opelucid is a city with a mix of both old and modern architecture, and Drayden and Iris had shared the position of gym leader until Iris challenged Hilda for the title of champion. Iris never went back to the Opelucid gym after being defeated, but she is a prominent trainer who often supports actual champion Rosa. She’s filling in for Grimsley as the fourth member of the Elite Four while Grimsley’s off globe-trotting.
- Side point, but Alder exists and was defeated by Hilda. I just keep forgetting he exists because I never actually 100%’ed BW, lol.
- Gen VI: Serena and Calem are the same person. Or more accurately, Calem’s deadname is Serena, until he came out as trans shortly after the events of Gen VI. Something about what happened at Geosenge made him realize he needed to be truthful to himself because, you know. Life’s too short not to. Besides, becoming champion kinda gave him the power to be like, “Listen. If you don’t accept me, that’s fine, but just so you know, I have literally faced the gods of life and death, survived, and proceeded to wipe the floor with this region’s Elite Four and former champion.” Diantha, of course, is 100% in support of both Calem and the aforementioned statement.
- Just as an added cherry on top, which legendary did Team Flare try to awaken? And which one did Calem catch as a result? Yveltal. He eventually found Xerneas too, but I can’t go into that in case someone actually does want to read that giant sci-fi fic I’m writing on the side.
- But yeah, Lysandre is dead as hell. Sycamore is secretly devastated, which is why Calem set off to find Xerneas.
- Gen VII: Selene, a newcomer to the Alola region, is the one who did ... pretty much all of what went down in Gen VII, including eventually taming Solgaleo (“Nebby”). Lunala never surfaced, and USUM never happened.
- Lillie eventually found her way to Bill, who took her under his wing for about a year. After that, Lillie returned to Alola with copies of Bill’s notes and a thumb drive containing what they hoped would be a cure for Lusamine. Turns out, it was, and Lusamine has been well (and in therapy) since. So ... in case anyone’s wondering what happened to Lillie after the few brief times she was mentioned early on in this blog’s history.
- Elio, a boy from Iki Town, is blissfully unaware of all of this, but he was the second person to ascend to Alola’s Pokémon League and challenge their Elite Four. Acerola kicked his ass.
- By the way, Hala was an Elite Four member for all of a month before deciding he would much rather go back to Melemele Island and resume his duties as a kahuna. Molayne took his place (at Kukui’s request) and has remained ever since. The other admins are still baffled by how this man can be a hardcore gamer and Elite Four member and still have time to both do science and run the storage system ... except Bill, who is an unrepentant workaholic who doesn’t sleep, so therefore, his opinion doesn’t count.
- Gen VIII: Victor is just one of Hop’s friends. He's traveling mostly to keep up with what Hop’s doing and support his friend, but he doesn’t really go out of his way to adventure or get stronger.
- Gloria, on the other hand, is the hero of Galar and will absolutely kick your ass in a heartbeat. She doesn’t have a Scottish accent, but she does have Cumbrian one, given that Postwick is literally supposed to be Windermere. Anyway, she’s the chosen one for Zacian. (Hop gets Zamazenta.)
- Chase and Elaine do not exist, LGPE did not happen, and I don’t know what you’re talking about.
- All of the events that are actually stated as happening above occurred pretty much in rapid succession, within a few years of each other. Or to make this visual even clearer, the timeline is as follows:
Gen I (FRLG) happened at the same time as Gen III (Emerald). > Ash Ketchum left Pallet Town a year later. > Gen II (HGSS) and Gen IV (DP) happened two years later. > Gen V (W) happened three years later. > Gen V.5 (B2) and VI (Y) happened two years later. > Gen VII (Sun) happened three years later. > Gen VIII (Sword) happened three years later > the Crown Tundra sideplot of this blog happened one year later.
This means it’s been fifteen years since Red and Blue left Pallet Town and fourteen since Ash left.
That said, circling back to Bill and his team, I know the Pokémon anime states that the storage system is a transfer system and that it was invented by someone else, but because all of this went down in the infamous porygon episode, I can say that’s not true, and you probably wouldn’t have known otherwise if I didn’t just tell you. So Professor Akihabara doesn’t exist, and the digital storage system does.
But yes, Bill lives in a lighthouse he calls the Sea Cottage. He dyes his hair green and speaks with an accent that to our ears in the real world sounds awfully British, and in addition to being a tech researcher/engineer, he studies ancient pokémon behavior on the side. His backstory (hated school, used a trainer’s journey as an excuse to get out of going, had an ivysaur that evolved into a venusaur and inspired him to become a researcher) is lifted straight from Electric Tales, but a few side details are either taken from the games (details about his family, being the son of a fellow pokémaniac who annoys the piss out of him, etc) or How I Became a Pokémon Card (he once met a dratini that was the child of a giant dragonite, and furthermore, he gave dratini its official National Dex name). As for which pokémon he’s fused with, it was a clefairy (first, according to the games), followed by a rattata (Special), and finally a nidorino (Zenshou, also games).
That said, I also ignore a lot of Special canon, in part because I didn’t read much more than the stuff related to Bill and in part because I just ... don’t really care for Bill’s interpretation in that universe. Oh, sure, it’s funny to see him try to throw hands whenever possible, but I just kinda grew up with the chiller Bill from literally every other universe. That and I kinda want to provide Bill content that doesn’t just fall back onto the default interpretation for him, which always seems to be some variation of the Special interpretation. So while I still take elements from Special (his birthday is another one, for that matter), the vast majority of the canon I use is really from other sources.
Same thing can be said for the rest of the canon used here. The short version of all of this is that I rely on a mix of the anime and games for all facts offered here, coupled with my own twists on canon when it comes to characters and timeline of recent events in order to blend the two together.
It’s confusing, but just roll with it.}
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chixibrown · 4 years
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Upon finishing the Stardew Valley comic
Since the Stardew Valley comic has been released by Fangamer, I am now able to write about what I had been doing in secret for one long year.
■ Gratitude
First of all, to the original creator Eric-san who entrusted the task in my hands, to Kari-san who helped me from early development all the way to printing, to Ryan-san, to Steven-san who did the translations, to Kari-san's mother who assisted in the creation of the envelope, to Erica-san for product photography -- And last but not least, everyone at Fangamer and FangamerJP.
It's thanks to the support of many people that I was able to finish the comic, and I wish to extend my sincerest gratitude towards everyone involved.
■ Chronology
"Chihiro! Big News! Let's create a new merch together!" was a request that I received around autumn of 2018. At first I was wondering if I was going to be asked to design a T-shirt, but turned out to be an invitation to draw a comic book!
At that time, I was posting comics on Twitter at random. Not even in my wildest dreams have I thought that my little comics would be appreciated so, and thus I immediately burst into tears.
I'm very honored and thankful for the opportunity to pen Fangamer's very first comic.
■ Contents
I'll try not to spoil anything about the story in this section.
The content requested by the original creator Eric-san for the comic was: "The story before the farmer comes to the farm" "With focus on the community center and Joja" "And the protagonist should have no set characteristics"
These were really the ONLY information that we received from Eric-san throughout the whole process (whyyy).
I was definitely worried. In reality, for around six months when I did my preliminary research, I played Stardew Valley every day, took countless pictures, and absorbed myself in collecting materials.
I I ended up taking a little over 20 thousand screenshots total (lol).
I wholeheartedly agree with Eric-san's guideline not to give the protagonist any set characteristics. I think one of the keypoints of this game is that "Anyone can be the protagonist".
The story is set from a few years before the prologue of game, so I was rather careful not to show my own personal interpretation. In principle, the actions of the characters were mostly taken from their in-game dialogue where they mention having done something in the past (For example, the reason Sam got in trouble lmao).
It took a lot of effort outlining the story, which involved things such as "Which characters would be in contact with each other?" and "Which characters may not be present at the valley at the time?". This is the reason why the preliminary research took around six months.
By the way, I was the one who proposed to include a "letter" with the comic, both as a bonus and major spoiler, in a way. But uh, many fellow Japanese may not be able to read it, so... I'll secretly tell you the what's actually written on the letter:
It's the handwritten version of THE letter you receive in the English version of the game's prologue. It's in your hands now. So in conclusion, it's probably exactly what you think it was.
I was quite adamant about how the letter needs to be handwritten. And as who wrote it... I shall keep it a secret here.
The reason why the comic had little to no dialogue is because it was the style I had back from the time I was drawing Stardew Valley fan art. Since Stardew Valley is a media not originally from Japan, that style serves to fulfill my two wishes: "I want people all over the world to be able to read my work" and "I want to cherish the feelings of each individual player" -- That sort of idea, really.
To summarize,
"I want people all over the world to be able to read my work"
"I want to preserve the unique interpretations each individual player might have"
"Anyone can become a Stardew Valley protagonist"
I drew the comic with these concepts in mind.
■ About me
I would like to talk about my experiences throughout the development of the comic.
My name is Chihiro Sakaida (a.k.a. Brown Junimo), I was already working for a game company, so I took advantage of that experience to work on game design and illustration.
Of course, while I was working on the Stardew Valley comic, I was a freelancer and had other jobs to worry about as well, so I ended up spending a lot of time working on the comic at night after work. I also studied digital art for a month for the sake of the comic, and I think it helped improved my work efficiency.
Those were truly, very fun days for me. The only thing that did bother me was the fact that even though I was working on my favorite Stardew Valley content day after day, I couldn't really share it with anyone.
I didn't want to take the risk of accidentally running my mouth on Twitter, and I no longer had the time to draw and post online like I used to -- So I had to resort to posting only low-risk tweets, so to speak, and to be honest, it was quite disheartening.
As such, I felt truly supported by the trusted individuals who knew about the comic. Tori-san, Aki-san, Kari-san, and Ryan-san, thank you so, so much.
■ Those who supported me
Tori-san is my partner, and also a person I respect as a novelist and screenwriter. She kindly and carefully reviewed and summarized my messy story.
Aki-san knew about the comic existed, but also knew next to nothing about it. Because of that, I think it was more than a handful to support me. It must've been really hard on Aki-san, who didn't know the contents of the book and thus had no way to accidentally spoiling the surprise, but whom also probably held even more feelings of shame than I did in regards to social media... I'm sorry that you've had to put up with so much. I was very proud to have you be the first reader of the finished book.
Kari-san is the illustrator of the Official Stardew Valley Guide Book, and I respect her a whole lot.
Both her work are her personality are very kind and easy-going. Together with her partner Ryan-san, she's managed to assist and encourage me many, many times.
No matter what I drew, I was sure to be greeted with her "Chihiro, you're so great!" or "Chihiro, you really did your best!" (Even my own mother have never praise me this much!) Overall, she feels just like an older sister I've always longed for, and it makes me very happy.
No matter what merch was in the process of being created, she would say "Let's make a brown one!!", solely because it's my signature color. It makes me very happy, although probably a tiny bit embarrassed as well to have her value my one schtick this much. She's even came to Japan many times, and listened to me talk all day long. After all, I wouldn't have been able to get this job to begin with if it wasn't for Kari-san, so she's a real lifesaver.
I didn't get to talk directly with Eric-san, the original creator and developer of Stardew Valley. Obviously I received some feedback via Fangamer, but I was refraining from being in contact with him as much as possible. I didn't think I could convey my full sincerity towards him before the comic was completed. I strived to be able to earnestly understand the feelings he wanted to convey via his own words -- Whether it was the game dialogues, his words on the developer blog and interviews, etc.
There was, by the way, no revision whatsoever to the comic. Eric-san did, however, carefully check all of my ideas and always provided words of appreciation; which made me happier than anything else. Those words became my motivation to live, in a sense, which in turn allowed me to freely and happily work on the comic.
■ Going Forward
While I've been talking about how proud I am to have finished the comic, I also would like to talk about what's coming next. While I certainly plan to continue working with Fangamer for the foreseeable future, at the same time, I have also decided to work for another game development company, and I plan to devote my time working on game development for at least the next year.
It has been my dream for the past 15 years to work for this particular company, and I'm elated to see it come true.
However, as a result I think I will have less exposure to social media. I don't think it's going to be easy to recreate that warm and wondrous time where I could interact with people regularly, but my memory of that time is something I will treasure for the rest of my life.
I'm really sorry that I have absolutely nothing to give back, but I sincerely hope the comic has brought a smile to everyone who's read or even merely noticed it.
■ Finally
I'm such a fortunate person -- I've come this far due to everyone's support, and for that, I would also like to extend my deepest gratitude. Thank you so much, for everything, always.
It would delight me if all of you could stay with me from this point on.
As I try to polish my skills and improve myself as a whole.
PS: Thanks to my best friend Ryou-chan for translating this!
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shinygoku · 3 years
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Thunderbirds (2004)
A review by me, CutCat! This is 8-ish pages long!
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Spoiler for the end of the film warning: Alan is in International Rescue. What a twist!
Totally Turbulent
Soooo, Tbirds ‘04 is one of those Infamous Adaptations, at least among those who enjoyed Thunderbirds (’65) and of more recent times, Thunderbirds are Go (’15). It’s one of those Bad Live Action Adaptations to a near sacred property, making it dubious contemporaries with Dragon Ball [Evolution], Avatar [The Last Airbender] and suchlike.
But wait, is it really That Bad?? Why is it as divisive as it is? What caused the film to be the way it is, and quite unpopular at that?
First I’m gonna make a long story very short by saying that a Live Action Thunderbirds movie was on and off production for many years, and that the script we ended up with is apparently better than another one that was pitched... but there are reports of cooler scripts further back that never made it, for various reasons. It’s almost a story of it’s own right but I’m only going by 2nd hand information at best, so I’d rather just link them at the end for Additional Reading if y’all felt so inclined.
With that out of the way, we have the Takes from the Andersons to look at. Sylvia had a very favourable reception to it:
"I felt that I'd been on a wonderful Thunderbirds adventure. You, the fans, will I'm sure, appreciate the sensitive adaptation and I'm personally thrilled that the production team have paid us the great compliment of bringing to life our original concept for the big screen. If we had made it ourselves (and we have had over 30 years to do it!) we could not have improved on this new version. It is a great tribute to the original creative team who inspired the movie all those years ago. It was a personal thrill for me to see my characters come to life on the big screen."
Whereas Gerry had a considerably blunter response at the opposite end of the scale:
"the biggest load of crap I have ever seen in my entire life."
As for me, a mere fan of predominantly the TAG series with limited but fond memories of the 90’s TOS reruns, I’d been inclined to ignore it and write it off as a DBE or TLA lost cause. But the combined effect of me deciding to check out unpopular media for myself, namely Dragon Ball GT and the live action Super Mario Bros. movie, and thoroughly enjoying both; and the other effect of TAG finishing but my fixation reawakening with the need to consume More, I dived deeper into the fan base than I had dared to before, in which I found more reasons to watch it and make up my own mind fairly.
Find out what I thought, and a review of the movie itself, below the Cut! ✂
Stormy Story
Ok, enough teasing, I see good things in the movie but not enough for it to be a secret masterpiece, not by a long shot.
1/3 Stars from Me. That’s Poor. (Compare with 2/3 being Good, and 3/3 being Excellent)
My main beef is unfortunately kinda the crux of the whole story, so while there were aspects I really liked, it had permanently set the bar low, and other issues were not helping matters. I’ll go into the problems after I sum up the plot.
[sitcom harp music]
14 Year Old Alan Tracy is stuck in a stuffy school with only his nerd friend to confide in. Something’s eating him up, and it’s jealousy over how his family are International Rescue, the secret rescue workers whole pilot the Thunderbirds, impossibly cool craft with capabilities vastly exceeding standard technology. Even when he’s allowed out of school and back to the Island, his envy and barely repressed resentment over not being a member himself causes him to go off and sulk and to try taking Thunderbird 1, the hypersonic jet plane, for a joyride.
His father and the leader of International Rescue, Jeff Tracy chews Alan out for almost compromising the need for the organisation to remain secret, lest their advanced technology falling into the wrong hands. Alas, said wrong hands are already working against IR: The Hood, a diabolical, cold blooded criminal with psychic powers and a grudge against Jeff. After successfully tracking the location of Tracy Island, he launches a missile towards Thunderbird 5, the Space Station where IR monitor potential disasters to prevent as much damage as possible, manned by John Tracy.
With TB5 crippled and John injured, Jeff and his other three older sons all scramble to the disaster zone via Thunderbird 3, the Rocket Ship. But with Tracy Island largely unmanned, The Hood moves in and aims to use the Thunderbirds to rob bank vaults while simultaneously smearing International Rescue’s good name. As the only Tracy brother left on Earth, it’s up to Alan and his 2 friends, Fermat and Tin-Tin, to foil the Hood and save his family, proving himself worthy in the process. He is also assisted by IR’s London Agent, Lady Penelope, and her driver/butler/lockpicker, Parker.
...
Ok, so that’s a summary you may read on the back of a DVD box, maybe it’s a bit long but whatever. Do you see what’s wrong with the story? The massive rift in the formula that should be within a template set by the hugely popular TV Series?
Critical Crux
For me, the main issue with the movie is that the Tracy family are thrown under a bus, or perhaps it’s more like being locked in a closet, in order for Alan to rise up and be The Hero. A show that was about each of them having different roles and personalities to the others, and the movie sees the best way to adapt the premise is to reduce 3 of them to cardboard cutouts who aren’t allowed to do or say anything meaningful, with the exception to this getting the dubious honour of getting a missile and exploding space station to the face.
I can’t clearly express how much this pisses me off! It’s downright insulting and baffling as well. They had pre established characters right there for the taking but go NO! Let’s make OCs to fill this newly created void instead and make the main Message of the film Friendship Teamwork.
Why does every child-skewed media hafta have the Friendship message? It’s a good one, sure, but nothing said in this film about it was fresh or original. Y’know what I see far, far less? Not just in Kid Flavoured Media, but all sorts? The importance of Brotherly Bonds between actual brothers!! I don’t subscribe to the massively misunderstood message version of ‘Blood is thicker than water’, but a story with the siblings actually pushed and stressed and coming out stronger at the end would have ruled!!
[For what it’s worth, the actual saying is “The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb”, i.e. the bonds you choose to forge are more important than happening to be born to certain people. This correct message is still compatible with literal siblings though!]
The other, somewhat lesser Large Issue with the movie is simply that we don’t see much in the way of Rescues with the titular Thunderbirds. We only get the tail end of the Oil Rig in Act 1, and then the ‘Birds are used predominantly to get to London and save 1 Monorail Car with TB4.
Watsonian Woes & Doylist Dilemma
When looking at Media, there’s 2 main angles to consider; Doylist and Watsonian. Doylist is the “real life / meta” angle, the structure of the story or interests of the author being in the plot, that kinda thing. Watsonian is the reason given within the story.
All stories have Watsonian and Doylist reasonings, the trick is to blend them in and not use a weedy Watsonian reason for something stupid happening.
Why bring this up? Because it’s still part of the Huge Problem I have with the film; the Doylist reason for all of IR being incapacitated so easily is so Alan can shine without fighting for focus in a large group. I don’t like it, but let’s go along with it for now.
Believe it or not, but I can accept that a Movie format isn’t going to be the same as an ongoing series. There’s way less time and you gotta hit certain beats. Ideally you also condense the essence of the show into the film while being more than just a long episode. They didn’t hit this note in my opinion...
But other than ‘It has to happen for he story to work’, there’s no damn reason for all the Non-Alan Tracys to be cooped up in the crippled TB5! They put all their eggs into one basket when a considerably more sensible choice woulda been to have a small crew, and the others remain on base. Because even without factoring in a worst case scenario where another missile hits them while in space, killing them all, which totally could have happened for all they know, there’s also the part about them being International Rescue! They gotta be ready to respond to other disasters should those develop. TB1, 2 and 4 were still available for use!
If I was Jeff making the boneheaded decision, I would have taken a second to think about it and have 1 of the Bros come up in 3 with me. Seeing to John shouldn’t be something 4 people are needed for, it would just get more crowded and the oxygen would be used way faster! Considering they all come close to asphyxiating, 2 less people would mean things weren’t so damn close to the wire! (Granted, the movie also has them falling into Earth’s atmosphere and burning up as a hazard, but the whole crew being there doesn’t affect that.)
Jeff! You’re the patriarch and supposedly most experienced dude in the whole movie! Why didja run into that trap with both eyes open? Stressful situation, sure, but in the Rescue Business you need to be able to listen to the cold, clinical angle. You’re risking more of your sons’ lives making such a rash judgement!!
Character Conundrums
This is the part of the review where I begin to really emphasise the differences between TOS and this movie. I’ll hold off TAG for now in the interest of fairness.
The movie is a mixed bag when it comes to the individuals within it. Some have been refreshing updates to stuffy 60′s tropes, but several draw the short straw, feeling even stiffer than their marionette precursors.
Alan - Hoo, boy. The plot follows Alan.... for the third time if you’re factoring in the Supermarionation movies, which was quite the baffling choice as Puppet!Alan is quite the obnoxious jerk. But whatever, new movie, new canon, new Alan. While the Alan of the 60′s was a bizarrely whiny brat of a character considering he was supposed to at least be in his early 20′s this Alan at least makes more sense to be annoying. But yes, he starts off as a sullen jerk with unclearly defined jealousy towards his own brothers and seemingly a lack of grasping the stakes behind International Rescue, viewing being one of the crew as a Cool Job rather than a gruelling, life-risking ordeal. Over the course of the movie (mostly Act 3) he becomes less of a berk and a better team player, even going as far as to save the Hood personally.
Jeff - One of the stronger characters in the movie, even with this poor choice I’ve gone on about already, haha. You get the real impression the job means the world to him, but still secondary to his sons. An update and improvement to the sometimes stodgy and holier-than-thou character from the 60′s, plus his proactive role makes him way less of a backseat driver.
Lady Penelope - Best character and a splendid update to the 60′s Socialite. This Penny is always a delight to see, although her ability to change clothes offscreen sometimes pushes plausibility, haha. She and Jeff also have very natural and endearing chemistry, so for this iteration at least, I’m up for shipping them, something I can’t say for TOS.
Parker - Remarkably true to the beloved puppet version and another highlight. His interplay with Penelope is some of the best dialogue in the whole movie, and was written by Richard Curtis in an uncredited role, or so I’ve read.
The Hood - A shockingly sadistic and cold blooded so-and-so. His Psychic powers have been given a huge boost, and the depths of his spite generates all the tense scenes the movie has to offer. His performance may be the best in the whole film, simultaneously over the top while also completely deadly.
Tin-Tin - Y’know, Tin-Tin is a funny character, in how she’s very different in all versions. I enjoy her in TOS, but her potential as an engineering assistant, mathematician and member of IR are quickly discarded to make her a secretary, which is further demoted to bringing coffee. Ahh, The Sixties! One of her other defining features was the sometimes bickering sexual tension with Alan. Movie!Tin-Tin is still the implied love interest [and the same age] with him, but she’s also an Action Girl extraordinaire, with abilities bordering on metahuman. She can trek through the jungle without slowing down, she can dive underwater for prolonged sequences, and has a variation of her Evil Uncle’s Psychic capabilities, but used for good. Notably, the Kayo of TAG takes significantly more from this Tin-Tin to the original, sadly sans Telekinesis.
Fermat - The only OC I’m gonna dignify with a section here lol. He’s basically mini-Brains, complete with the way he t-ta-tal- -distinctive speech patterns. But yeah, as the hypersmart and nerdy pal, I feel that his role is pretty superfluous, though his performance in the movie got me to soften up, he’s a good kid. Just one who, like, is part of the deal breaking issue I have with the whole film. In a way I think he’d have made a better lead than Alan lmao
Brains - Not much to say here, he’s also a dude in distress for a majority of his screentime. Seems to be older than his TOS self and a bit less subservient to Jeff, but also a father ....or Fermat is his clone. They never make that clear. He’s hit on by the Hood’s Female Scientist and it’s played for comedy, more on that later.
John - In TOS, his role was infamously minimal, as Gerry Anderson took such a strong disliking to the John puppet and the TB5 model that he exiled both into space with a few token shots per episode. So in comparison, this movie is far kinder to John! He has a nice, genuine chat with Jeff, without any mission to initiate said videocall. The movie is also quite mean to John in how he gets bombed by the Hood, his space station in tatters, his arm hurt and then near suffocation with Jeff and most of his brothers. Ahh, the conundrum of being John.
Scott, Virgil and Gordon - No, they don’t even get their own paragraphs in my review. Their lack of presence and importance in the movie is my giant gripe (have you noticed yet?) and it got to the extent that I feel they could have been combined into one character to save casting money. They get maybe 5 lines each, if that. I literally can’t tell Scott and Virgil apart (I know they have name tags on their uniforms, but in most scenes I couldn’t even read that) other than knowing 1 of them is taller. Which that one is, is a mystery.
The only one with a slightly distinctive appearance and air is Gordon, which is another can of worms because he seems to be the designated Doubtful Jerk Brother and that drives me mad!! In TOS he wasn’t as main a character as Scott, Virgil or Alan, but he was still a defined person with his own abilities. And his personality was as a slightly mouthy but the most lighthearted character! Why didn’t they carry that over?!
And yeah, Scott and Virgil are pretty much the Main Two of the brothers in TOS, so their roles being reduced to 1 token act during the oil rig rescue each [Gordon didn’t even get that!] is all the more mind boggling.
Hood’s Minions - Can’t be assed to write their names out, I refer to them as Heavy Dude and Science Woman. Heavy Dude is the Heavy, and his character consists of Dumb and somewhat Sadistic Muscle. Science Woman is first objectified (we see her ass first. Yes, really.) but then it’s ‘revealed’ that as she has Austin Powers level teeth, she’s uuuuuglyyyyy and her otherwise genuine attraction towards Brains is played for laughs with this angle. And that’s still female on male sexual harassment, which doesn’t fly with me. Eeeesh. Bad writing! She does Science Things for Hood.
The Rest - Kyrano and his wife are in this. Wife is Original but basically Grandma’s role, though she doesn’t even get a single word to say. Rip. Also the Hood has a few more generic mooks from somewhere, but seemingly only for part of the movie. Kyrano didn’t do much in the show except get bullied by the Hood and little has changed.
Tone Trouble
I feel like the movie has a bit of an issue with balancing a consistent Tone. Again, let’s look back at TOS. It was a Family Show, designed to not just appeal to little kids, but to also keep their parent and other adult amused. Maybe some of it was also the result of the times, but striking to me is that they allowed the characters to get pretty hurt, complete with red paint being applied to look like realistic blood. Some of the criminals, including the Hood himself, would be very vicious, how he treats Brains in Desperate Intruder comes to mind. There was even firefights resulting in death, like the memorable climax of Operation Crash-Dive, where Gordon has to shoot a saboteur in the back, into the open sea below the compromised plane. He then proceeds to hold the cut wires together with his bare hands. Don’t try this at home, kids!
So while I can understand some of that being removed from the Movie (and TAG), there’s still the irritating going down to a perceived kid’s level for the majority of the film, which is probably also a large reason for the massive structural change. But then, there’s shockingly dark implications here and there, and the haunting sight of the crew trapped on TB5 floating lifelessly in the dark, asphyxiating. But then, again, we have goofy choreographed fight scenes with juvenile stock cartoon sounds. And then, we have Hood force choking Alan?! It has been mostly consistent until Act 3, then the tone goes up and down more than the flying machines.
Revamped Rockets
I’m mostly talking about the main craft here, though I know the Pod vehicles got modified too, I’m not sufficiently a TOS Pod Buff to go over them.
TB1 - Looks real nice! Maintains and even enhances the sleekness, and the idea of a glass cockpit is much better than having 1 tiny window and a dinky TV screen to see by. Oddly dark inside the cockpit considering how much glass there is, though. Probably my fav of the Movie Fleet.
TB2 - Oof. Looks bad, man. Like, really ugly. What have they done to the glorious design that was the Original Big Green? The unofficial mascot from her importance and unorthodox style? They turned her into a stubby, too glossy, chunky bar of green soap. The thick ass legs are a good idea but it sure ain’t enough. Also, she carries 3 smaller pods insteada 1 big one.
TB3 - Like TB1, pretty much the same design but streamlined a little. Docks with 5 sidewise instead of like pen going into its lid.
TB4 - I’m mixed. I like the idea of giving her a glass canopy and extendable arms, but the movie’s version is so boxy she looks more like a small yellow Greenhouse with the rear half of the old Four, haha. The arms also look a little stiff, can they bend? Now, if there was a sleek, glass hulled, variable armed, demolition charges-loaded Four, that would be my favourite possible version ;3 Four is my fav craft in TOS and TAG, for what it’s worth.
TB5 - I say it’s quite a visual improvement over TOS and the odds and ends jumbled look that had, though I do appreciate a bit of Chunkiness. This one really needs to have better defence too, TOS 5 may’ve been able to tank that missile lmao
FAB1 - I know that she would have been a Rolls Royce in the film, but BMW said no, so that’s not a point against the movie. And failing the classic image, it’s cute that it’s a Ford Thunderbird, though I’d have preferred one with those 50′s/60′s stylish fins personally lol. Her ability to fly is new here unless you count the Dream Sequence in Are Go (’66) and the water mode was also seen in that before this, and she gets the job done, though we don’t get to see as many gadgets and gizmos in the course of the film.
Unlikely Uniforms
I really don’t understand these. Why are they off white with minimal accent colours? What was wrong with the blueness of their suits and the broad stripe of a secondary colour? I sure ain’t saying the 60’s costumes were practical or even that fashionable, but they were very distinctive and striking!
Not only that, but for some strange unexplained reason, their uniforms all correspond not to their own speciality, but to which craft they’re currently piloting. Even if they’re all in the same Bird...! So like, four out of five are wearing identical looking red accented suits while locked in TB5. I already find the elder brothers to be the Similar Squad, and their microscopic name tags don’t help!
Why don’t they wear their own coloured uniforms all the time? Then ya don’t need the name tag at all! And the silly implication from the way there’s apparently a whole set of Craft Specific uniforms is that there’s piles of clothes that ain’t getting used in all of them, like the tiny TB4 probably having 6 whole sets on board at the end of the film.
Between that, no blue and the outfits looking like Generic Sports Wear, the only nice thing to say is the THUNDERBIRDS down the sleeve is a cool touch. Which should really say International Rescue or IR...
Mingled Misc.
Yeah, The conflation of Thunderbirds and International Rescue is a tad irritating but it’s actually something I can overlook. It’s not a dealbreaker and it makes sense the Dumbass Public would misunderstand and call them the wrong thing.
Jeff refuses Alan early access into IR and cites “No shortcuts”. Then at the end he echoes this when he is making Alan an official member, saying he did it with no shortcuts. The whole faffing scenario was a giant shortcut!!! Fuck training and being a suitable age, am I right?!
Amazingly I didn’t cover this already, but when Alan shortcuts his way onto the team he’s made pilot of ... TB4. That’s why he’s in yellow accents in the pic. Gordon is seemingly the main pilot of TB3 instead, but the movie doesn’t deign to make that clear. While I appreciate that the 14 year old with no Astronaut training isn’t put in charge of 3 instantly, I resent the careless removal of characterisation. Obviously movie Gordon never served with WASP or won the gold medal in swimming or had a massive hydrofoil crash to nearly kill him but ggggghgggaaahhhhhhhhh
Also what’s with the implication that Four is the Babby’s First Machine? She’s a highly specialised craft that would require different training to flying or Space shit! How dare you?! The most charitable link is that Alan stood around in 4 as Tin-Tin did most of the work herself, but I guess it coulda as some level of experience.
Ford Sponsorship - Gets a bit much! It’s one thing for all the cars to be Ford, but them seemingly owning the News is like an unpleasant look into a world where corporations run everything.... hahahaahaaaaaa........
Marvellous Music
Something the movie really excells at is the tunes! The remix of the Thunderbirds March is good in it’s own right and very welcome, and the new music is all solid. Special mention to Busted’s outro song for slapping so hard even people who hate the movie leave warm youtube comments about the song. I have a habit of listening to it set to TAG footage myself, haha
Sincere Summation
Look, I’ve come off negative in this, but I honestly have a lot of respect for a lot of the parts of this picture. Hood, Penelope, Parker and Jeff are fantastic, the physical models and sets have a lot of care and loving detail poured in, the music is all bangers and other little nods and homages to the show shine brightly. The director got a lot of good work in and I hold him no ill will.
I think the problem is in the Writing and probably Studio Mandates, I’m not 100% sure, but things often get snaggy when the studio you’re working under gets bought out by a bigger company partway through. Again, I’ll refer to the info I’ve seen instead of trying to relay it in my own words.
And they made a real bad call snubbing Gerry as a Creative Consultant. Some of his venom towards the film may be from that, as well as his alleged preference to Team America: World Police as a theatrical homage. And I’ve seen that before and wouldn’t really say that’s true to the spirit of Thunderbirds, but yeah...
I’d be interested in any future Thunderbirds Movies, if that’s ever on the cards again. I’d probably be even more up for continuation of the TAG series, or newer new Captain Scarlet with International Rescue involved. Either way, I want new footage of the Birds taking off again, be it puppet, people, CGI, or something new~
Extra Reading
https://securityhazard.net/2017/05/19/thunderbirds-2004/ Full movie review, warm reception. Contains photos of set pieces and costumes.
http://groovyfokker.blogspot.com/2013/02/thunderbirds-arent-go-unfilmed-versions.html Insight into some of the past issues developing a Movie, but gets some basic information wrong (Since when is Gordon the youngest and TB3 orange??)
Thanks if ya’ve been reading the whole thing! <3
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duhragonball · 4 years
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[FIC] Luffa: The Legendary Super Saiyan (127/?)
Disclaimer: This story features characters and concepts based on Dragon Ball, which is a trademark of Bird Studio/Shueisha and Toei Animation.   This is an unauthorized work, and no profit is being made on this work by me. This story is copyright of me. Download if you like, but please don’t archive it without my permission. Don’t be shy.
Continuity Note: About 1000 years before the events of Dragon Ball Z.
[4 August 233 Before Age. Nagaoka.]
"Perfect. Absolutely perfect."
Treekul had spent the last several days laboring over a hot alembic, preparing a reagent at Rehval's instruction. Her lavender skin was dirty with soot and sweat. Her lips were dry and her eyes bleary from lack of sleep and water. Lowering herself to her knees, she laid the bottle containing her finished project at Rehval's feet, and waited for him to examine it for his appraisal.
"The war goes well, Treekul," he said, ignoring her reagent completely. "Luffa hasn't left Federation space for over four months now. I've bottled her in. It's perfect."
Treekul didn't particularly care about the war. She knew Rehval was waging one, and that he was using his cult followers as soldiers, but she wanted nothing to do with either. She had been brought to this place against her will, and Rehval refused to let her leave. It might have been simpler for him to kill her, but Rehval seemed to fancy the idea of grooming Treekul as an apprentice in the alchemical arts. This didn't interest her much either. Treekul was an alchemical historian, not a practitioner. She had only played along so far in the hopes that Rehval would let his guard down and give her an opportunity to escape.
And so, she didn't particularly care what he thought about the small bottle of golden liquid she had laid at his feet. All that mattered was that she had done as he asked, and that he would trust her a little more than ha had trusted her yesterday. So if he wanted to congratulate himself on his military adventures, Treekul would play along.
"Is that what this is about, boss?" she asked. "Bottling up the Super Saiyan? Because I don't see what good it does you. From what you've told me, everyone you've sent into Fed space has gotten killed. You can't keep this up forever."
"I don't need to contain Luffa forever," he said. "The point is that I've proven that it can be done at all. A day, a week, a month. The duration isn't as important as the precedent it sets. In my own way, I've shown the universe that I can overpower Luffa."
"Sorry, but I don't get it," Treekul said. "The way you talk about the war, it sounds like more of a stalemate than anything else."
"You lack vision, my disciple," Rehval said.
"Maybe, but I think my vision would be a lot clearer if I got some food and sleep," Treekul said. Wearily, she pointed up at the bottle. "It wasn't exactly easy making that stuff. I don't even know what it's for."
"Ah, how inconsiderate of me," Rehval said. He clapped his hands, and a pair of Saiyan men entered the room and stood at attention. Rehval pointed at Treekul like she was an dead animal he wanted removed from his presence.
"Priestess Treekul has undergone a great trial," he told them. "You will attend to her needs, and escort her back here in six hours."
"Twelve would be better," Treekul yawned, rubbing her eyes for effect.
"Six will have to do," he replied with an unctuous smile. "We still have much work to do, you and I."
Treekul sighed and went with the acolytes.
*******
Treekul wanted a shower, but the Jindan Cult seemed to prefer sponge baths. As a priestess, she had enough rank to at least keep the male acolytes out of the room during this, although they insisted on women taking over their duties in their absence. Treekul at least managed to talk them down to merely standing by while she handled the sponge herself.
"Just seems like everything around here is designed to humiliate a person," Treekul mumbled as she squeezed the sponge into a pot before drawing up clean water from another.
"Sure!" said one of the Saiyan women. "It's like the Thrice-Blessed always says. You gotta reduce an ore down to get at the true essence."
"Oh, I get it now," the other woman said. "For a minute there, I thought you were displeased with us, Priestess, and that was why you wouldn't let us help you. But making us stand around and watch is even more degrading than having us wash you off!"
"I'm not making you watch," Treekul grumbled. "As far as I'm concerned you two can go wander off and do something else, or at least turn around."
"Sorry, your grace," one of them said. "We have standing orders to see that no one harms you."
"Yeah, there's still some Saiyans here who haven't exactly... gotten with the program, you know?" the other one explained. "And if one of them lashed out in frustration, an alien like you might be hurt."
"Wonderful," Treekul said. "So where's Maro and Kocho? They're my usual babysitters, not those two men you replaced."
"I don't know, your grace," the first one said. "We normally serve the male priests, so we don't spend a lot of time with the acolytes who serve the women."
Treekul kept her head down so they wouldn't notice her frustration. She had talked Maro into escorting her to the shipyard. He thought she was only interested in meeting the technicians who maintained it, when her true motive was to gather information to plan an escape. But their schedules never seemed to line up, and then she stopped seeing him altogether. This was probably a simple duty rotation, but she didn't know enough about the cultist's work assignments to be certain, and she was afraid that it might be conspicuous if she asked too many questions about it. She could probably find another cultist willing to show her the shipyard, but that might also attract attention.
So she took a different tack, and chatted with the women about the compound's water supply. All she had seen of the cult was a series of natural and manmade caverns, connected by tunnels that were carved out of solid rock. Treekul had never seen the surface of the planet, but from they told her, it was an uninhabited wilderness. Work details were occasionally sent topside to gather fresh water from polar glaciers. So even if Treekul made it out of the compound, there wouldn't be a city of helpful natives to look for.
"Maro told me the skies were beautiful at night," Treekul lied. "Where I come from, there's too much light pollution to see the stars."
"I've never been outside," one of the acolytes said. "But I know there's no stars out there. Someone told me there's cloud cover over the whole atmosphere."
Foiled again. Treekul looked down and pretended to be very interested in scrubbing her left knee. She had no idea where Nagaoka even was in relation to the rest of the galaxy. The stars in the sky might have given her some clues, but now even those were denied to her. It was beginning to look like everything depended on getting herself a ship, and that all hinged on finding Maro.
*******
[4 August, 233 Before Age. Zenj I.]
Maro was his name. Zatte knew this because he wouldn't shut up about it, and she could hear his chatter over the communicator in her ear. All of the Jindan cultists were eager to prove themselves in battle, but that eagerness made them careless. Two miles away from the battlefield, Zatte watched Maro through the telescopic sight of her plasma rifle, and when she was sure that he was standing still, she opened fire.
Her ability to manipulate energy had a number of applications, but for combat, she preferred to bend light around herself as a nearly perfect camouflage. For this shot, she dropped that invisibility field, allowing her to focus her power on guiding her ammunition to the target. It was a difficult technique, one she was still struggling to master, but it allowed her to strike from greater distances. And it worked. She saw Maro fall through the scope, heard his blustery talk cut off in mid-sentence, and sensed his ki energy vanish in an instant.
Luffa was hurting. These groups of Jindan raiders were no match for her, but each one managed to get a few licks in, and she had been fighting them on planet after planet for weeks. Dr. Topsas had developed mycotherapy techniques to heal her quickly, but it still took a few days for that to work, and once it was done, Luffa would have to return to the grind. There seemed to be no end to the Jindan attacks on Federation territory, and no way to take the fight to them.
Luffa probably should have undergone mycotherapy after the last battle, but she wanted to take care of the cultists in the Zenj System first. And on paper, it was probably worth it. She was more than holding her own against the cultists, but Zatte could tell that Luffa's moves were sluggish and pained compared to her usual self. Normally, Zatte never even got a chance to fire her rifle in these battles. Luffa made a game of trying to defeat the enemy before Zatte could get off a shot. This time, Zatte had made five kills, and lining up for a sixth.
It was gratifying to assist Luffa this much, but it was troubling to know that she needed this much help. To a casual observer, the Legendary Super Saiyan would have seemed as invincible as ever. She was a gleaming yellow blur, dodging and deflecting the cultists's attacks, and countering their numbers with overwelming force. But Zatte could hear Luffa's grunts and stifled groans through the communications earpiece. She could sense that Luffa's power wasn't quite as high as usual. And she had seen her various injuries back on their ship.
It reminded Zatte of Luffa's defeat against the Tikosi. As horrific as that day was, Zatte kept reminding herself that it directly resulted in Luffa's ascension, and all of the good that came with it. Luffa was destined to prevail. Providence would see to that. All Zatte had to do was hold on tight and help Luffa along until her purpose was fulfilled.
She noticed one of the Saiyan cultists had broken off from the group. They knew there was a shooter, and this one was trying to track Zatte down. "Good luck," were the words she mouthed to herself. A ballistics team with advanced equipment might have been able to follow the path of her plasma bursts back to the source, but all this man had were his senses. Zatte doubted that even a Saiyan could pick up her scent from two miles downwind, and she had cloaked herself completely from ki senses and visible light. Even if he fired an energy blast in her general direction, it would have to be such a wide dispersal that she was certain she could deflect the worst of it. He'd just leave himself wide open for Luffa.
Take your best shot, she thought as she lined him up in her scope. He seemed to be taking his time, moving erratically through the air to avoid her fire while he prepared himself. And as Zatte waited for him, she noticed something.
It was a Zenjin ki signature, one so faint that she hadn't even noticed it until now. This part of the city was supposed to have been evacuated, but someone had stayed behind. Moving carefully, Zatte looked up from the broken wall she had been using for cover. Less than a hundred yards away, she spotted a child. A little boy, she thought. She had trouble telling when it came to Zenjins. Something about their antennae, and the patterns on the wings that hung from their backs like capes.
He was dressed in an imitation of Zenjin military garb, and seemed to be watching the battle through a pair of telescopic goggles. He reminded her of herself as a child, always playing soldier.
This was bad. If the Saiyan had sensed his life energy, the he might concentrate his attack in this direction. Zatte might still survive, but the boy would definitely not. Even if she managed to line up a shot and take out the Saiyan first, one of the others might pick up where he left off. And Luffa's hands were full at the moment.
There was only one choice. The Dorlun survival ethic placed self-preservation above all else. Luffa was xan-nil'Dor, chosen by Providence, so that made dying for Luffa a rare exception. To forsake that sacred duty for a child she didn't even know wasn't just a bad idea. It was heretical, a betrayal of everything the Dorluns believed.
Zatte leaped out from her cover and ran as fast as she could to reach the boy. Thanks to Luffa's training, she was able to cross the distance in only a few seconds, but using her top speed also meant that she had to drop her invisibility field. The Saiyan spotted her immediately.
"Who--?" the boy started to ask as Zatte snatched him up in her arms. She kept moving, slowing down only enough to restore her cloaking effect around them both.
"I'm Luffa's shadow," Zatte said between breaths. The situation was bad enough without telling him her name. She was zealous enough to bend and twist the survival ethic, but not that far. There were other Dorluns out there, she hoped, and there was no reason to tell this boy of their existence. Not that he was likely to threaten her people, but there was still the principle of the thing.
"I can't see!" the boy gasped.
"I made us invisible," Zatte said. Each Dorlun had a unique ability, and hers allowed her to bend light rays around herself. Now that she was close enough to him, she could bend the light around the child too, but she couldn't share her ability to see through the cloaking effect. To him, it looked like the whole world had gone dark. She wanted to explain this to him, to assure him that he was safer now that she could use her powers to protect him, but before she could speak, she was knocked off her feet by an explosion.
The next thing she knew, she was lying on the ground, still clutching the child in her arms, and looking up at the Saiyan who had been searching for her.
"Well what do we have here?" he asked with a triumphant sneer. "I always knew the Super Saiyan was an alien trick, and here I find an alien supporting Luffa on the battlefield. Let me guess: she's really an android, and your job is to shoot anyone who gets close enough to see through her holographic effects."
"It's going to be all right," Zatte said to the boy. "You're safe as long as you stay close to me." From the way he trembled, she didn't think he believed her, but she wanted to say it anyway.
"Yeah," the Saiyan said. "That explains how she seemed to move so quickly. It's that invisibility effect you use. You make your puppet disappear and reappear, or even project illusions of her to throw us off-balance." He took a step back from her and pointed his short spear at her. "You're quite the little witch, aren't you, One-Eye? Better keep my distance, eh? I bet if I came any closer you'd use some other secret weapon on me."
He was right. In a pinch, Zatte could use her ability to burst blood vessels, but that trick only worked in close quarters. She had dropped her rifle when she ran to get the boy, and her speed and invisibility were useless with him standing right in front of her.
"You can't kill me," Zatte said, her left eye opening wide with conviction. "You'd be better off running away, or begging for mercy."
"Is that right?" he chuckled. The tip of his spear began to glow pale blue as he prepared his attack. "And why is th--?"
He suddenly noticed an intense increase in ki on the battlefield. Zatte felt it too, felt his comrades all scatter as golden balls of fire came streaking out towards them. Zatte had used her abilities to cloud the Saiyan's senses, so that he didn't know what was going on until just now, when it was too late. He tried to dodge the blast that now approached him, but it struck anyway, and when the light faded and the smoke cleared, he looked like he could barely stand. His clothes and hair were singed beyond recognition, and his skin was covered in burns and scorchmarks.
"I'm with her to the end," Zatte said, although she doubted that he could still hear her. "She and I will die together, so you'll never kill me unless I'm by her side."
He still had enough in him to step forward, no longer caring about any secret weapon Zatte might have. As he raised his spear, he suddenly stopped, and looked down at his abdomen to find a fist that had impaled him from behind.
"That was a mistake," Luffa said so quietly that Zatte only heard it through her earpiece. The man tried to turn his spear on Luffa's bloody wrist, acting more on instinct than any sensible plan, but then a golden glow appeared on her arm, which spread out to envelop his entire body. He made a weak, anguished cry of pain, and then he disintegrated like burning guncotton, and leaving only Luffa where he once stood.
"Are you all right?" Luffa asked, sounding more fatigued than she probably meant to. There was blood on her black racerback and yellow pants, and Zatte knew at least some of it was Luffa's own.
Zatte released the child and rose to her feet. "I'm fine," she said. "What about--?"
"Let's... let's get back to the ship," she said, then turning to the boy: "You can find your own way home, right, soldier?"
He was so awestruck that he almost forgot to answer, and Luffa barely waited for him to nod. "Good. Let's go," she said.
*******
[4 August 233 Before Age. Nagaoka.]
Treekul expected her next lesson to be an evaluation of her last assignment. Instead, she entered Rehval's laboratory and found him dressed like he was going to an expensive restaurant instead of presiding over a cult.
"I'd like you to wear this instead," Rehval said. He held up a black dress and presented it to Treekul before she could even step towards him.
"I thought the robes were specially treated to protect us from chemical burns," Treekul asked as she reluctantly accepted Rehval's gift. It was one of the few things she appreciated about her 'apprenticeship'. Her priestess garment was little more than strips of red cloth haphazardly arranged into a dress, but he had to cover her in more modest protective equipment for the lab work.
"Oh, we won't be slaving over the retorts this time," he said with a laugh. "I thought I'd treat you to something special. A little reward for your hard work."
She waited for him to tell her where to change, and when he didn't she simply headed for the bathroom and put on the dress there. She recognized the style as Camelian fashion. The neckline was square and the hem was in a sawtooth pattern. What truly grabbed Treekul's attention was what was attached to the dress. The price tag was still hanging from the inside of the back, and it identified a particular clothing store as its point of origin. She removed it, but folded the tag in with her usual clothes so she could look at it later. With any luck, it would help her figure out where to go whenever she found a way off the planet.
Rehval put his arm around her waist and led her to a room she had never seen before. Gold bullion lay in piles on the floor. A statue of a woman holding a torch-- also gold-- stood on a pedestal along one of the walls. A scarlet cloth hung over the figure's shoulders. Several paintings adorned the walls, including portraits she recognized from her alchemical history textbooks. In the center of the room was a small-but-expensive-looking table, with dinner served for two. A bottle of wine in a gilded bucket of ice served as a centerpiece for the occasion.
"There's not much to see outside of the caverns," he explained. "So when I want to share my aesthetics with someone, I bring them here." He picked up a gold coin and examined it idly while Treekul took it all in. "It doesn't compare to the villa I once had on Pflaume II, but I decorated the place myself, so I suppose it's a bit more personal that way."
"Where did you get all this money?" Treekul asked. "Wait, dumb question. You're an alchemist. You transmuted an equal weight of lead, didn't you?"
"Cadmium, actually," Rehval said. "It's a similar technique, but I find the procedure more sentimental."
"Where would you even spend it?" Treekul asked. "Unless you give this stuff to your followers when they do missions off-world?"
He laughed. "You're such a utilitarian, Treekul. No wonder you like to keep your hair so short. It's nothing but dead cells to you, waste material to be disposed of. It probably never occurs to you that you might look ravishing with the right style. Although I have to admit, I do enjoy the contours of your head... Anyway, the coins, the gold, they're all for show. Once I learned to counterfeit my own cash, I realized how pointless finances really are. But it still looks pretty, and it impresses other people. A big wooden chest stuffed with gold coins has a romantic touch, don't you think? A bauble I can show off to demonstrate my power."
Treekul's gaze lingered on the chest for a while, and Rehval moved on to a large bookshelf along the wall.
"Have a look at this," Rehval said. He handed Treekul a book bound in old leather, and the smell of the pages was enough for her to estimate the age of it. As she flipped through the tome, Rehval stepped behind her and craned his head over her shoulder. Then he placed his hands on either side of her waist.
"What is this?" Treekul asked.
"You're the archaeologist," Rehval said. "You tell me. I thought you would be interested to ply your trade a bit."
She shrugged and examined several pages. "Encryption 40... No, this is 41," Treekul said a few minutes later. "This was definitely encoded by an alchemist. I'd say... five hundred years ago."
"A layman from that era would read that text and think it was nothing more than a cookbook," Rehval said. Treekul didn't like how close his lips were to her ear, but there wasn't anything she could do about it.
"It is a cookbook," Treekul said. She studied another page more closely, then checked the table of contents to see if the rest of the book covered any other topics. It did not. "The encryption is authentic. Only a student of the Topaz school could have coded this, but when you decode the recipes you just get... different recipes. But it's all food."
"Yes, I know," Rehval said. He gestured to the table somewhat haughtily. "I used it to prepare our dinner."
"Where did you get this?" Treekul asked.
"One of my flock retrieved it for me," Rehval said. "I sent him to the Percel Nebula as a trial of courage. I keep it here with my other collections."
"What's so important about a cookbook, boss?" Treekul asked. "Unless there's another layer of encryption to this, it barely qualifies as an antique."
"You miss the point," he said. "The book itself is nearly worthless. What matters is that I sent a man to find it for me, and he braved many dangers to come back with it. I suspected he wasn't entirely devoted to my cause, but once he handed this to me, I knew that no traitor would go to such lengths for me. From that moment on, I knew that he belonged to me, body and soul."
Treekul bit her lower lip at the sound of this. Then Rehval released her, and headed for the table.
"By the way, I examined your potion," he said. "The formulation was nearly flawless. You have a real talent for alchemy, Treekul. Next time I'll have to assign you a formula that's actually useful. But for now, it'll make a fine addition to my collection."
It was then that she noticed the vial on the shelf where the book had come from. It looked exactly the same as the one she had given to him six hours ago, though it was impossible for her to be absolutely sure.
"Oh, I thought you might want to know that I've assigned a different acolyte to see to your personal needs," Rehval said. "I had to send Mero to the front lines, and he was just killed on Zenj I this morning, so I'm afraid he won't be coming back."
She lowered her head and tightened her grip on the book. With her back turned, she was grateful that Rehval couldn't see the look on her face. He was using her, just as surely as he was using everyone else in this mad cult of his. She could play along and try to win his trust, but she would only be sinking herself deeper and deeper into his game. Did he know that she was trying to use Mero for her escape plan, or would he have sent Mero to die in any event?
No, the real question she needed to ask herself was whether any of it mattered at all. Rehval didn't seem to care what she did or how well she did it. He just wanted her here, like some housepet, or the coins he wouldn't spend, or the book he didn't need, or the potions that served no purpose. She had flattered herself by thinking she could resist him, but in reality there was nothing for her to resist. She was like a rodent in a maze. Even if she died trying to oppose him, he would just shrug his shoulders and find someone else to toy with.
That was why he left that tag on her dress. He wanted her to find it, to make her think that he had made a mistake, that there was some slight opening in her prison. It was just a game to him.
"Well then, come sit down and let's eat," he said. "I'd like to tell you more about my collection..."
With a sharp breath, Treekul turned to join him. For now, there was nothing else she could do.
NEXT: GUWAR
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Eren the Free, Part 1: Response to linkspooky’s ‘Eren the Slave’
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Thanks for asking for my response, anon, because it has allowed me to string together and articulate my own thoughts on Eren’s character at this stage of the story.
Needless to say, I have several interpretive, philosophical disagreements with @linkspooky‘s ‘Eren the Slave’ and these are expressed in my ‘Eren Jaeger – Who Freer than the Tyrant?’ meta, so please read that first. The purpose of this post will be to argue against specific claims made in linkspooky’s meta and tackle what I believe to be logical flaws in my opponent’s argument. This meta is in two parts not to flex but because my computer had an aneurysm trying to load the whole post.
Well, if the Defence in the trial of Eren Jaeger may take the floor, my opening statement is thus: Eren is no slave, and has pursued the path of freedom further than any other character.
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Narrative and Personal Narrative
linkspooky draws a distinction between the Narrative of the manga and Eren’s Personal Narrative, the story he tells himself. They argue that people who have faith in Eren’s self-conception fall into his personal narrative.
But is his story not a Narrative? It is quite natural to expect character development from characters in a story - it could only rightly be called a mistake when it comes to real life. And do Eren’s detractors not themselves fall into the Personal Narratives of Armin, Mikasa and Zeke? They have repeatedly made the statement that Eren is not free, that he is being controlled by Zeke or Grisha, and every time he has proven them wrong.
There is indeed an authorial Narrative separate from the characters’ Personal Narratives which can be detected through symbolism and the course the story takes. I find that the course of the story thus far lines up far more with Eren’s Personal Narrative than it does with those of his detractors. We can tell this from how he has disproved Armin, Mikasa and Zeke’s accusations of manipulation and also how, in the last chapter, he symbolically rips free of his chains.
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There is also the fact that we the readers are more in the dark about Eren’s thoughts and intentions than we are about any other character. How could we be seduced into a Personal Narrative we know next to nothing about? And why would the story deliberately hide from us the very perspective that is meant to deceive us? I think it is far more likely that the reason Eren’s intentions have been shielded from the reader is because they take the nature of a terrible truth that must be dug up with bloodied hands.
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Whenever Eren opens up about his thoughts and feelings, the meta unfairly dismisses them as mere lip service despite Eren having no reason to lie to Reiner and Falco as two people he intends to kill.
Rather than our side of the fandom being deceived by Eren’s Personal Narrative, I find that the opposing side dismisses it out of hand because they have no intention of listening to Eren’s side of the story. Why is Eren’s perspective less valid than anyone else’s, especially when he knows more than every other character by virtue of his ability to literally see the future?
The only explanation I can find for this attitude, if I may be forgiven the presumption, is that people approach the topic with the automatic assumption that what Eren is doing has to be wrong instead of questioning their own morals - which is, after all, what Attack On Titan is all about.
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Armin even says that he no longer understands Eren. I don’t think we should trust the perception of a character as being authorial Narrative when he explicitly makes a statement like this. linkspooky does have an explanation for this scene, however, which I shall address in the next part.
Armin and Mikasa’s Perceptions of Eren
linkspooky claims that the reason for Armin’s confusion is that his romanticised view of Eren is falling apart, which indeed it is, and the same is true of Mikasa. However, I don’t think it’s right to claim that their new perception of him is an accurate one, since they still haven’t heard anything from Eren himself apart from what both I and linkspooky agree are lies to distance himself from them.
While they both once focused excessively on the positive in Eren, now they focus excessively on the negative, not considering the reason for Eren’s actions that I believe we have received hints of in the last two chapters.
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linkspooky and I both think that Eren wants to protect his friends - in my case I most definitely see it as his primary motivation. If Armin knew this about Eren, I do not think he would condone him, but I don’t think he’d so roundly condemn him as he does here either.
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So I don’t think it is right to consider Armin’s words the straight truth here, given the lack of information he’s working with, and that indeed, the fandom is working with. Because Eren is doing the most morally questionable things, and because we are seeing things more often from Armin’s perspective than his these days, there is perhaps an impulse to put faith in Armin’s words over Eren’s. But in this series, nothing is ever so black and white.
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In Mikasa’s case, her treasured memory of the scarf is now being being challenged by the memory of Eren murdering the kidnappers - but we know from 121 that Eren places special value on the scarf as well, instead of just the murder.
Rather than trying to paint Eren in a white or black light, they need to see Eren as he really is: like the freedom he represents, a force beyond good and evil. 
Enemy of the World
One of linkspooky’s arguments is that being the ‘Enemy of the World’ is just Eren’s fantasy as he frequently relies on others. However, linkspooky also mentions how Eren manipulates everyone close to him. I would argue that the person who manipulates you is, in fact, your enemy, and that Eren is the Enemy of the World not because he never relies on help but because he is entirely on his own side.
Indeed he knows that assistance from others is necessary even just to activate the Founder’s power, and he also refers to the Survey Corps as his friends, or even comrades, depending on your translation.
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This is why he manipulates them - and the reason he manipulates rather than relying on them is because he feels that his Will contradicts the Wills of everyone around him. There is no-one who desires the outcome that Eren desires, not even Floch and the Eldian nationalists, I believe: I think even they will baulk at the scale of destruction Eren intends. Historia is the only character I think may be an exception to this rule as the other bearer of the ‘enemies of mankind’ moniker. 
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This otherwise total isolation of intention is what makes Eren the Enemy of the World. Because he fights for his freedom, he rebels against peace.
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I think this panel is another example of why the authorial Narrative itself supports the idea of Eren being an Enemy of the World. The positioning of the speech bubble and outside text was entirely the decision of Isayama and his editor, and is not a thought bubble from Eren’s head. He has never actually addressed himself as ‘the Enemy of the World’: Historia calls him the enemy of mankind and Willy says he rebels against peace, but while Eren has said he “might just destroy the world” and only in response to Willy’s words, he is still not ascribing himself a title or role.
Eren’s Individualism
linkspooky claims that the scene in the FT arc, where the Levi Squad is slaughtered because Eren didn’t rely on his power instead of theirs, is misinterpreted because Eren also lost the fight on his own. However, this is where I think this meta falls prey to one of its greatest weaknesses: the omission of the Uprising Arc from the analysis of Eren’s character, wherein his most pivotal transitions take place.
The event that caused Eren to trust in his own strength over the strength of others was not his fight against Annie, but when a similar situation repeats itself in the Crystal Cave.
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In this circumstance, Eren is able to protect all of his friends by relying on his own strength, when they would have died had they attempted their risky manoeuvre. Eren has become strong enough to protect them on his own - this was the first inkling of that realisation.
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I say ‘first inkling’ because Eren does say this afterwards, which seems to influence Armin towards his current ideology. Such an idea seems at odds with what I believe to be Eren’s current aim to genocide those different to him as a wholly antagonistic force, like the bullies in Armin’s memories who Armin now wants to make peace with.
I believe this is because Eren soon learns that those differences between people are simply too great and too much of a threat to his freedom. People are stronger together, but only if he can be confident that they will follow his Will, which is how he learned to manipulate his allies. The differences between him and Levi in the Serumbowl nearly caused the loss of his best friend, and then, when he receives Grisha’s memories and learns of Marley’s treatment of Eldians, he learns just how deeply divided humans are and loses faith in overcoming those differences.
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Far from character stagnancy, this is the development I see in Eren that has led him to this individualistic conclusion.
I would also like to address what I think is a fallacy in linkspooky’s analysis of the fight Eren loses against Annie. Eren loses both with his comrades and without them - how does that make the former path any better than the latter? Eren was actually doing very well in his fight against Annie, and only lost when he realised her identity from her fighting stance.
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What I think Eren really took away from that fight is the lesson he is applying now - he cannot show any mercy to his enemies.
Levi Parallelism
I find the parallels drawn between Eren and Levi quite interesting and am not necessarily opposed to it, but personally I find that Levi has more parallels with Mikasa than Eren as two Ackermans driven by their love for others (though of course this is a big part of Eren’s motivation as well). Mikasa realising she can’t protect Eren or always be by his side is more in line with Levi accepting that he can’t save everyone imo.
Those Who Push Themselves into that Hell
linkspooky draws attention to Eren’s use of language to indicate that he is not free, such as in the following scene: 
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They argue that the ‘something’ pushing Eren along means he is not moving from his own will.
However, I find this claim to be contradicted by the distinction Eren makes within this very scene. He differentiates between those who are pushed into hell by their circumstances and those who “push themselves into hell”, clearly putting himself - at least as he is now - in the latter category. So I find that Eren is articulating that, because his whole past and future are manifestations of his own Will (as I argue in the attached meta), he is freely choosing to enter this arena rather than being forced to do so.
I Just Keep Moving Forward
linkspooky also argues that the reluctance in the line “I just keep moving forward’” suggests a lack of freedom. I would argue that continuing to fight for your goal even though you are frightened is a sign of strength of will rather than the reverse.
They also argue that, because those words are remembered as Reiner is about to kill himself, they are portrayed in a negative light. But this omits the crucial follow-up to that scene, where Reiner does not kill himself and finds a reason to live after hearing Falco express his desire to protect Gabi. Reiner is saved by that will to keep moving forward.
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They further argue that Eren takes these words from Hange and twists them to suit himself.
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But this is untrue. As they pointed out themself, Eren first heard these words in his training days from Reiner where it did mean what he thinks it means. Furthermore, there is no panel showing Eren having any special reaction to Hange’s words. He is shown with the other key Serumbowl players before Hange says them, but not afterwards, where the focus is solely on Mikasa.
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I believe Isayama has Hange say Eren’s tagline because it is a key phrase in the themes of the story, and not because it has any special effect on Eren.
I Didn’t Have Any Other Choice
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Lines such as “I didn’t have any other choice” and “Is there another way” are similarly argued to be indicative of Eren’s enslavement to a single course of action.
But this is just the conflict between long and short term gratification – enduring hardship to obtain your goal is an example of a strong will, not an enslaved one. Even if he is enslaved to circumstance, this is the case for everybody else as well, and it is an enslavement he seeks to permanently free himself from by crushing his enemies for good. After that, he and Eldia can do whatever they will.
Born This Way
The lines “I’ve always been that way, ever since I was born”, and “It’s probably been like this since the day we were born” are argued to be a form of enslavement to one’s sense of self. I cover this in my attached meta, where I argue that it is rather an affirmation of his own Will and right to exist.
One specific point I’d like to address is the claim that Eren saying those words after Reiner tries to take personal responsibility for his actions is evidence that Eren is running away from his guilt, and is therefore not at peace with his actions, and is therefore not free. But rather than in denial or frustrated, Eren appears to be in a state of sad serenity.
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Eren does not say these words in immediate response to Reiner, but only after he hears Willy say “Because I was born into this world”. I think that here Eren is simply recognising that Reiner was simply following the unique nature of his Will - doing it because he wanted to, not because he had to, which is indeed what Eren is doing - and acknowledging that it is something he cannot criticise him for, but also something that he cannot spare him for. That is the command of Eren’s unique Will.
As for Eren not being at peace with his actions meaning he is not free, refer to the short/long term gratification point I made earlier.
Jealousy of Mikasa and the Need to be a One Man Army
linkspooky claims that Eren is still trying too hard to be as strong as Mikasa and Levi, but once again the meta suffers due to a lack of consideration for the Uprising Arc. In that arc, Eren got over his jealousy of Mikasa and Levi and explicitly stated as much.
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This, I think, is also sufficient evidence against a persisting desire on Eren’s part to be a One Man Army (as opposed to freedom, which he does have a desire for). His words here make it clear that he wishes to fight alongside his friends if possible. He has simply learnt that, to achieve his goals, ruthless manipulation and rugged individualism is necessary.
Need to be Special
This is also something Eren overcame in the Uprising Arc. He thinks of himself as a normal person, the son of a special father, that he never needed to happen.
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He is not doing all of this to be special. He has simply become special by pursuing his birthright: not a birthright of exceptionalism, but of the right to exist, something I shall explain further in the ‘Meaning of Carla’s Words’ section in the next part.
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As with the One Man Army, it is a matter of necessity rather than desire. I cover this more in my attached Eren meta, but Eren’s character has developed in a perfect loop. Though his actions remain the same, his understanding of them has increased dramatically: that is to say, he has come to understand himself.
Indeed, people are not naturally special. But can one really argue that special people do not exist at all? To say such a thing would be to argue that there is no difference between Daz and Erwin. People become special -  Supermen, to reference Nietzsche - because they relentlessly pursue their Will to Power, their driving force to actualise their desires.
linkspooky also argues that the reason Eren’s change is the most dramatic after the time-skip is because in actuality he hasn’t changed. My argument is that it is simply the result of having the most explicit and tumultuous development in the story up to now, and crucially, the ability to see a future no-one else can.
Read the rest in Part 2 here!
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goblin-alchemist · 4 years
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Do you have any tips for getting a hang of characterizations? You always do so amazingly, especially with Gabriel!
Thank you!
I have talked about this with a few friends prior, so I'll see if I can put it into words again.  This might be redundant to those who remember discussing this with me before, but here we go.  I'll focus upon Gabriel since he seems to be the trickiest for people to write.  I'll also reference some of my stories to give examples.
Gabriel's primary motivation, in my mind, is Emilie.  I default everything back to Emilie.  If Gabriel gets absorbed in something and forgets his grief/goals, etc, I have him suddenly think “Man, if Emilie were here we would be able to watch Adrien experience these milestones together” or “I wish I could hold Emilie's hand like Adrien is doing with Marinette”.  And then he gets sad again.  It's an instant grounding focus for him, and thus leads to renewed determination.  “I am doing this because the ends justify the means.  I just want Emilie back.”  I kind of play with the sunk-cost fallacy with Gabriel, too.  At this point, he's put in so much to being Hawkmoth that he can't back out now.  (Until I slam something in his face that gets him to stop abruptly, like him discovering the heroes' identities).
So that's his primary motivation.  But now to address a lot of the rest of his personality.
The fandom likes to emphasize that Adrien is the face of the company and he has to put on a mask, and only when he's Chat Noir does that mask slip and he's allowed to be his “true self”.  I feel Gabriel is also in the same boat.  He's the head of his company.  He's expected to maintain certain social graces just like his son (if not more so).  He's quiet and reserved and polite, but he's not very forthcoming because of fears of industrial sabotage, or revealing a weakness to competitors that can be used against him, or getting taken advantage of (all of which as an adult, he should have experienced at one point in his life).  His stoic poker face was developed as a result of his life experiences.
However, we're shown he's not really reserved and in control.  Just like Chat Noir, we have canon evidence that Gabriel is as ham-fisted, emotional, and pun-filled as Chat Noir.  We see it in every single Hawkmoth monologue, in every time Hawkmoth transforms and gets giddy with excitement that he might win, and with every anger-fueled declaration of vengeance.  (The argument of 'are those Gabriel's legit emotions or does the butterfly miraculous emphasize those emotions from his victims?' is a nice angle to play with in fiction as well).
But as Gabriel, he's not excessively impulsive (Miraculous-stealing opportunities aside).  He lets people speak their case before forming judgment (more on this in a moment), but once the judgment is formed, it's hard to get him to change his mind.  He's stubborn.
So if I'm writing the story or scene from a third-person-perspective, like Marinette, I can't delve into his thoughts on paper.  I have to show the audience what he's thinking through other cues.  Since he's a man of little words, I'll have him silently scan a room before speaking.  He allows people to speak and give them the opportunity to screw up in his presence before he says a word as to his opinion.  Once that opinion is formed, however, good luck getting him to change his mind.  I have to show this using his glowers, frowns, squared shoulders, and clenched hands.
If something pops up that's great dramatic irony (when he was secretly overjoyed that Marinette designed a Hawkmoth-themed dress, for example), I'll show it as flashes of amusement in his eyes, twitching of lips, the relaxing of his posture, and the crinkling of his eyes.  The key here is to show subtle ways of expressing emotions without outright stating that's what's happening, because Gabriel schools himself and his emotions in front of others.
But when I write directly from his POV, that's where the fun begins.  There, I can describe his internal monologue, which is inspired by his actions as Hawkmoth.  I can have Gabriel sit silent, glowering at anyone who approaches while he observes and dryly comments on everything around him.  He won't say his sarcastic thoughts aloud, but he'll be thinking them, and here's my opportunity to channel the exasperation.  Somethings things will just slip out because honestly, is everyone around him an idiot?!  He'll recover and glower away any funny looks aimed at him, because his intimidation is as much a weapon as his silence is.
Frustrated exasperation is what I usually write Gabriel as a lot of times.  As Hawkmoth, he releases that frustration.  As Gabriel, it has to be kept bottled up inside and it only comes out in internal sarcastic remarks.
If I feel Gabriel strays too much into the OOC/cracky territory (which happens a lot in my stories, I admit) when I channel a bit too much Hawkmoth through his civilian form, I stick Nathalie in there as his straight man. She displays even less emotion than Gabriel and ends up being a really nice balance when I go a bit overboard on Gabriel's emotional outbursts.  A few pointed phrases or deadpan replies that juuuuuust touch upon inappropriate for an assistant to talk to her powerful boss, but she helps ground Gabriel into more of his realistic canon personality instead of complete OOC crack.
He's a man of few words as Gabriel, and he's used to being in a position of power, surrounded by yes-men (Nathalie and the Gorilla).  He isn't used to having anyone challenge him.  So, he doesn't need to explain his reasons to people.  When Marinette was rambling on about why he of all people was bidding on her dress design, he halted her mid-ramble and merely said “I like it.”  The end.  He keeps his cards close to his chest, and the only time I've actually seen him let down his guard is oddly, to Nooroo.  I'm certain this is just a narrative device for us, the viewer, but the fact is Gabriel is weirdly forthcoming to Nooroo and pretty much lays out his thoughts, plans, and analysis on the situation at hand.  I use that to my advantage in my stories when writing the Nooroo/Gabriel relationship, and how subconsciously, Gabriel might view Nooroo as a mentor (even if he disregards all of the advice Nooroo freely gives).
He's the head of his multi-million euro company.  He didn't get there by being lax and lazy.  He has super high standards, and isn't afraid to verbally rip apart his peers if it's warranted.  However, he's not entirely unfair, I don't think.  He allowed Marinette to defend her hat design in Mr. Pigeon before coming to a judgment on it.  He allowed Nino to propose his last-minute plan in Bubbler to throw Adrien a birthday party before he denied it (and then interrupted Nino and got angry with him only after the boy continued to push the point).  He allowed Marinette to explain how she stumbled across his Miraculous book before saying anything to her.
To me, the fact he actually went and met with these people in the first place shows a lot about his character.  He's willing to hear people out, but he makes fast judgments and doesn't budge from them. People have to get into his good graces right away or it's hard to change his mind later.  He has flashes of anger, but its not sustained, because he's already moving onto finding a solution to the problem (like in Volpina when he got that phone call about an issue with his designs).  Sometimes, I wonder how much of his anger and irritation is a result of his real thoughts and emotions, or just him seeing an opportunity to akumatize someone by riling them up further.
In this manner, he's calculating, very calculating, and if something reflects him in a poor light its probably for a reason (staging his 'temper tantrum' in Collector).  I ignore the canonical inconsistencies toward his waffling degrees of intelligence and treat Gabriel as very smart, but oblivious and arrogant.
I see him actually as very much like Marinette, only bitter and jaded.  She's clever and creative, and so is he.  The only difference between the two is that life has struck him down with angst.  He's lost his soulmate.  He's experienced the lows of being a starving artist.  He's encountered failure. Marinette has yet to go through any of that.
I could probably go on further and delve into different aspects of different scenarios (his wish, etc) but I think I've rambled on long enough and seems like I've jumped erratically between a bunch of different points  :)  Let me know if you have any additional questions and I hope this has helped at little at least.
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the-desolated-quill · 4 years
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BBC’s The War Of The Worlds blog - Episode 1
(SPOILER WARNING: The following is an in-depth critical analysis. If you haven’t seen this episode yet, you may want to before reading this review)
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I was very much looking forward to the BBC’s adaptation of the H.G. Wells sci-fi classic. How could I not? It’s the definitive alien invasion story that jump-started an entire genre of science fiction  Not to mention this is the first adaptation made by a British film company and actually set in the time period it was written. I was very excited. Nothing could possibly dampen my spirits... until I learned who was writing it.
Peter Harness is a writer I’ve been less than kind to in the past. For those who don’t know, he wrote some of the worst episodes of Doctor Who. Remember that stupid story about the moon being an egg? Yeah, that was him. He also has a penchant for writing painfully forced and thinly veiled allegories with all the grace and subtlety of a ballet dancing rhino in a glow in the dark tutu. Kill The Moon, for example, was a pro life metaphor that portrayed the other side as being irrational baby killers, and his Zygon two parter was about Muslim immigration and integration, with the slimy repulsive Zygons being used as stand-ins for Muslims and non-white immigrants.
Harness’ ability to write allegorical stories about sensitive topics is... under-developed, to say the least. So naturally he’s the perfect candidate to adapt one of the most beloved sci-fi stories ever written. I mean, why not? The BBC have already ruined Sherlock Holmes, courtesy of Steven Moffat. Why stop there?
In all seriousness, while I wasn’t excited about the prospect of Harness getting his grubby mitts on War Of The Worlds, part of me hoped that maybe he could pull something out of the bag. You may recall I held a very similar negative view toward Chris Chibnall, and his first series as showrunner of Doctor Who was an extremely pleasant surprise. Maybe Harness could achieve his own metamorphosis.
He doesn’t.
The first episode of War Of The Worlds was fucking tedious to sit through. It actually looked quite promising initially. We get some nice moody shots of the surface of Mars as Eleanor Tomlinson recites the famous opening lines of the book. But then just after the opening titles, it all goes downhill.
I was sceptical when it was announced that this would be a three parter because that just seemed too much. A feature length film you could do. Maybe a two parter, at a push. But three episodes? Each an hour long? That’s going to require a lot of padding, and that’s exactly what Episode 1 is. We see the Martian cylinders launch from the planet at the beginning of the episode and it’s not until the forty minute mark where we get our first proper glimpse of the Tripods or the heat rays. So what do we get in the mean time? Mostly pointless shit.
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The original War Of The Worlds book isn’t exactly remembered for its characterisation. Outside of the astronomer Ogilvy, none of the characters even have names, but to be fair to Wells, the characters themselves weren’t really the driving force of the narrative. The Martians were. The narrator, a journalist, was merely there to relay and facilitate the plot, giving us a first hand account of the subjugation of Earth. Fine for a book, but somewhat harder to get away with in a film or TV series, which is why most don’t even try. Every single adaptation of War Of The Worlds attempts to expand on the central characters to varying degrees of success, and the BBC version is no exception. But where Harness really miscalculates is in anticipating how much the audience is going to care about the characters, to which the answer is ‘not that much.’ We don’t want them to die obviously, but we’re not so interested in who they are or where they come from because they’re not the main focus. The Martians are. So to have a significant chunk of the episode focusing on their day to day lives is quite baffling. Not to mention unbelievably boring.
George, played by Rafe Spall, is living out of wedlock with Amy, played by Eleanor Tomlinson, which causes their neighbours’ tongues to clack and net curtains to twitch. The only person supporting their union is Ogilvy, played by Robert Carlysle, which is how they learn about the mysterious goings on the surface of Mars. This is all established in the first five minutes, but as I said, the Martians don’t properly show up until the forty minute mark. Until then we’re subjected to painfully forced and tediously dull ‘right on’ posturing and irrelevant social commentary that adds nothing to the core narrative.
Here’s the thing. I’ve got nothing against the idea of expanding the characters. I definitely have no problem with giving the narrator’s wife from the book more development and screen time. In fact I’m all in favour of it. What I do have a problem with, however, is when that expansion and development comes at the expense of the plot.
A man and a woman shacked up together in defiance of society is all well and good, but what does any of this have to do with War Of The Worlds? It’s not even as if Harness tries to connect this back to the story’s main themes of imperialism and colonialism. It’s mentioned that Amy was born and raised in India. Maybe if she was an Indian woman, it could have been more thematically relevant, but no. Once again we have a period drama with no people of colour because, as we all know, non-white people weren’t invented until 1962. Also, while I get that society at the time was very strict, I’m not entirely convinced George and Amy’s relationship would have been that scandalous to the point where it would have affected his career as a journalist. That just seems like a step too far and is merely there to add some artificial tension... in a story about Martians invading the Earth.
In the end it all comes down to this. Why the fuck should I care? What’s the bloody point of this? Yes it expands the characters, but it doesn’t contribute anything to the narrative. It just wastes time. Again, I must stress, we don’t get our first Martian until forty minutes into an hour long episode. Previous adaptations never felt the need to bore the audience to death with pointless shit because they knew what audiences came to see. Martians blowing shit up. Steven Spielberg’s adaptation of War Of The Worlds from 2005 didn’t piss about giving us needless exposition about Tom Cruise and his family. We’re given the basic info about the characters and their relationships within the first ten minutes before the Tripods emerge and the action gets going. The BBC version, in contrast, is just painfully slow, dictating every tiny thing about these characters even when it’s not relevant to the plot.
And the thing is, once we actually get to the bits from the actual book (you know? The bits people actually want to see?), it’s actually pretty good. The Tripod looks incredible, as was the scene in Horsell Common where we saw people getting killed by the heat ray. Unfortunately we have to slog through all this other crap before we can get to the good stuff.
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Eleanor Tomlinson probably gives the strongest performance as Amy. It’s just a pity the character is so utterly uninteresting. Like I said, I’ve got nothing against giving her a bigger role than she had in the book, but it feels like Harness is more interested in showing off his feminist credentials than actually telling a story or creating a believable or likeable character. Her being an assistant to Ogilvy I think is a great idea, but it soon becomes clear that this was only done so other male scientists could comment on how unusual it is to have a woman digging up a crashed cylinder, which is kind of ridiculous because I’m pretty sure female scientists did exist back then and you don’t exactly need a penis to use a fucking shovel. Then things turn really stupid when George’s brother, played by Rupert Graves, starts blaming her for the Martian invasion, saying that everything was going fine until she came along. Exploring 19th century sexism is one thing, but this is just daft. There’s no interest in actually exploring the root causes of sexism back then. Instead Harness seems content with portraying men as being the equivalent of cartoon caricatures foaming at the mouth.
George, meanwhile, goes from being a fairly boring character to a downright hateful one when it’s revealed that he and Amy aren’t just living out of wedlock, but that he cheated on his missus because she was infertile. So not only do I not care about him, I now straight up want him to die because what the actual fuck?! And this is not helped by Rafe Spall’s incredibly wooden performance. Seriously, I’ve seen corpses with more life in them. When the Tripod first emerges, we see him stare at it in what I assume was supposed to be shock, but instead he just looked gormless. It’s honest to God one of the worst performances I think I’ve ever seen. There’s no emotional range to him whatsoever. He just blunders around wearing a confused frown on his face. It’s as if he had just wandered onto the set by mistake.
The biggest problem with this first episode is that Harness is focusing on all the wrong areas. A large segment is dedicated to George investigating the Dogger Bank incident, which seems to be an attempt at making a parallel between the UK’s tenuous relationship with Russia then and now. What this has to do with War Of The Worlds, I don’t know. There’s so far been no attempt at exploring the themes of the source material as we’re too busy with this shitty romance. There’s even a moment where we see the characters dig up the cylinder and take a photo only for the same exact scene to happen five minutes later. I mean for fuck sake!
And then there’s the pointless plot twists. First we get the cliched pregnancy reveal, then it’s revealed that the scenes we thought were on Mars turned out to actually be a post apocalyptic Earth with Amy and a seven year old kid who is presumably her son. Wait, how long has this fucking invasion been going on for?! It only lasted a couple of weeks in the book! What happened? Did the Martians get vaccinated? This just highlights to me how inept Harness is as a writer. He can’t just do a straight adaptation of War Of The Worlds. He has to engineer these pointless and utterly idiotic cliffhangers to get people to keep watching because the story and characters clearly aren’t doing that.
If I wasn’t committed to reviewing this mini-series, I honestly wouldn’t watch the rest of this. This first episode is legitimately terrible. Boring, poorly thought out and utterly, utterly clueless. Just like everything else Peter Harness has ever written. I don’t understand why he was chosen to adapt War Of The Worlds and I don’t understand why he chose to adapt it in this way. Why so much focus on pointless exposition? Why over-complicate the lives of the main characters? Why can’t they just be a normal married couple living a life of privilege until the Martians come and trample all over it? It makes no sense! Some could defend this saying it was building tension until the Martians emerged, but there’s a significant difference between making an audience nervously anticipate the Tripods arrival and making them wait impatiently for something, anything, interesting to happen.
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pjmnns · 5 years
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Sue Me ii
You walked out when he broke your heart. Words were left unsaid, thoughts pushed away, unanswered questions left unanswered— remember when he said there was no second chance? When you run into each other at the same place you first met, he’s hoping to change the past. You say: So sue me for being something you couldn’t forget.
Lawyer!AU, ex-lovers!AU + twist // angst, major fluff, crack (?)
Pairing: Reader X Jungkook
Rating: T (swearing)
Warnings: swearing and sum horrible attempt at writing crack part 2, better character development idk i tried guys
Word Count: 7.5k-ish
>> 1 / 2
Hiii guys I’m back!! Here’s part 2 of Sue Me! It’s a little longer and it turned out better than I initially planned so hope you all like it as well,, please leave me comments and feed back!
“He what?!”
“Shhh,, Jesus keep your voice down Mina, I don’t need the whole office knowing,” you quickly whisper as your gaze searches the empty office floor for any intruding listeners. You show her the invitation and as her eyes flit across the paper, she can’t help but grin, stifling a squeal. Her heels tap excitedly against the carpet instead, the muffled taps an outlet for her excitement.
“I can’t believe he offered to go with you, and just after that one run in at the club, ugh y/n I don’t know how to deal with this!” Finally letting out her squeal she gives your arm a squeeze while you gingerly smile in response.
Mina has been the only other soul you’ve told about the reunion and Jungkook’s offer of course. At least there was someone else in your life you were thankful for to tell your thoughts to. Mina was your senior by a year, personal assistant and secretary to Jeon Junghyun, the other dastardly charming and handsome Jeon lawyer and Jungkook’s older brother. Having gone to your college and subsequently landing a job at the law firm as well, she quickly sought you on your first day of work before you could introduce yourself. Mina was the very kind and passionate woman you could only wish to be someday in the near future. Her poise and professionalism, however, only a workplace facade as you quickly got to know her more quirky, spontaneous personality. She quickly took you under her wing, both at the office and literally when you were temporarily homeless after being kicked out of your apartment. Regardless of the brief time the two of you spent with each other, the relationship with Mina peaked when she offered to be roommates, claiming her plants at home “needed more love and another source of oxygen”. Since then you and Mina commute to the office and school everyday, becoming one another’s sister you never knew you needed but always wanted.
Over the course of wine-drunk nights and girls-night-in, Mina knew well of your history with Hoseok. She wasn’t surprised about his desperation of being a fuckboy, acknowledging the social flourish of guys like him in college settings, once they’ve surpassed the awkward stages of high school. With Mina, you poured out your heartbreak consumed by emotions and alcohol, the understood break-up starter pack. Too many times had Mina drop kicked your body pillow drunkenly, claiming it was Hoseok’s cheating ass, or visualized his face on the dart board of your favorite bar. All in all, Mina was your number one supporter of using, no requesting Jungkook’s presence to emphasize your post heartbreak move-on.
“If only Junghyun had enough romance in his body to realize what a smoking hot secretary he has and offer to aid her in some devious revenge slash I’m the bigger person romcom plot,” you say sighing, waggling your eyebrows at her. Sure enough, you really wish Junghyun had the hots for your friend, they both looked ridiculously and illegally good together and you weren’t surprised if there were unintentional feelings masked by both their strict adherence to professionalism. You swear you’ve seen Junghyun linger the eye contact with Mina, or maybe it’s the way he waits for her every morning at the elevator, or even his tone differs with her. You mentally slap yourself for not compiling physical evidence of the potential blossoming of love in the office.
“Hey! My boss isn’t the one you should be worried about having any romance in him, seems like yours might have a little too much huhh??” Nudging her foot against yours, you push her swivel chair as she spins away laughing, your face heating up at her simple comment. There’s nothing romantic about Jungkook going as your date, its merely, no strictly, correcting yourself, an offer to gain a little self-confidence to finally get over your first heart-break. It’s just another opportunity in the road of life you tell yourself, acknowledging the immense kindness your boss is extending towards you. And in no way did he appear to make it a charity case, rather it seemed like he wanted to see you find closure and perhaps wipe that smirk off your ex’s face while you’re at it. Grinning, you roll towards Mina and pull her closer but your conversation is suddenly interrupted by the surge of co-workers arriving back from their lunch break. “We’ll talk tonight y/n,” Mina whispers, sending you a wink as you both turn towards your desk.
“Mina can you come into my office.”
“Y/n, you as well, I need some things.” The Jeon brothers peek out from their offices at opposite ends of the sector, both dressed in handsome attire though somewhat lax in appearance like the rolled up sleeves or unbuttoned collar. The pair of you stand to walk towards their respective offices but not before you had the chance to make kissy faces at Mina, she slapping your ass in turn as you both hope nobody witnessed the exchange. As Mina disappears into Junghyun’s office, you gingerly close the door to Jungkook’s.
“Y/n, I need you to research previous rulings similar to this case and make a list of laws relating to the client’s situation, focus especially on loopholes that the prosecution may pinpoint or any extraneous details that could possibly give us leverage. Also formulate the agreement for the Jung case that we observed earlier, I need that by tomorrow if possible, we will meet with them in person and have it dealt with. Email a copy to their legal team when you’re finished and remind them of the meeting.”
Jungkook looks up after assigning the tasks to you, realizing you haven’t responded due to your diligence in writing notes. As he waited for you to catch up, he quietly observes the way you support your notepad with one hand while your other grips the pen, marking the page in quick flourishes; the way your soft hair spills over your shoulders, a strand you haven’t had the chance to tuck behind your ear as your face scrunched in concentration. Slowly, he begins to acknowledge the tug in his chest, a pull of admiration and something more. He had always been praised for being the youngest lawyer to work at his family’s firm, an aside to being an accomplished one at that. Moreover he’s used to the fawning of others in the workplace that aren’t his actual family, especially the female coworkers who can only stare and sweetly smile at the lawyer, hoping for acknowledgment. In truth, Jungkook had dreaded having an intern who would double as his secretary, he didn’t need the help nor did he need the prospects of a clingy “fangirl”. He had always respected the office as a professional setting and although he would casually smile to the women vying for his attention, he wasn’t fond of it either. Junghyun had convinced Jungkook to accept the proposal after telling him that his work would be more efficient and having an official secretary made his position more, well official. When Jungkook conceded, his brother made sure his own secretary would pick and choose the ideal candidate, hoping to gain insight from someone as good at the job as Mina was.
Meeting you for the first time, Jungkook immediately acknowledged your professionalism and your immense passion that unraveled over the course of time. Since then, Jungkook saw you as his equal, no less than him despite still being a college student, and no less despite your position as an intern. He understood the dynamic of lawyer and intern/secretary, Junghyun and Mina the perfect exemple of equal parts trust, efficiency, and professionalism, that which you and him immediately gained upon the first week of your arrival. He really did enjoy your company, not only because of your work ethic and your proficiency but even then your personality. Though he only got to know one facet at work, he witnessed many more that night at the club which made him all the more curious about you. Jungkook himself wasn’t sure why he was so adamant about accompanying you to your reunion but when he saw your douchebag ex and the greasy smirk permanently etched onto his face, the way you actually opened your heart to him willingly, trusting him when he encouraged you to go on, he felt a little bit of his professional demeanor falter. He sought the desire for his intern to be happy, to be able to move on from the past and seek closure herself, much like what he always strives for in helping his clients. Jungkook wasn’t so twisted that he would consider the offer to you like that of a client, but a part of him— a very large part of him wanted to see you shining in brilliance and happiness, exuding the same amount of confidence you have for your job to be equal to that of your personal life. And if Jungkook was able to be the source of that, by all means adamant he would be.
“Is that all Mr. Jeon?” you inquire, glancing up from your notepad. You realize that Jungkook was already looking at you but you fail to break eye contact because you were the one who had the last word. You tensely smile and manage a gulp, hoping he wouldn’t notice your attempt to shrink from his intense gaze.
“Please call me Jungkook y/n. If we’re gonna pull this off, I can’t have you calling me mister the whole night,” referring to your reunion.
“Of course Jungkook, sorry just a workplace habit.” Your tone wavers and you grip your notepad, but nonetheless forcing yourself to inquire further, “Are you sure you still want to go through with this Jungkook?” completely aware that you had dropped your professionalism in an effort to confirm your thoughts.
Jungkook smiles at your awkwardness and the unease that appears to cross your face, softly chuckling he confirm his offer, adding a quick “no returns or exchanges cause you’re stuck with me now” which causes you to widen in expression, surprised that he too had dropped the professionalism. As you turn to leave his office after you wave your notebook in the air and tell him you intend to get your work done, Jungkook can’t help but feel a little lighter, reminiscing the same way he felt that night when the both of you were just a little intoxicated and a lot more comfortable. xx
As Jungkook moves forward in shaking the client’s hands, you stand as well bowing towards their departure. Sighing, Jungkook takes a seat and leans back, body lax in an attempt of relieving the stress he had accumulated from the week. The reunion was in a week and the two of you still had to bring the topic up to the table. Seeing as the meeting ended the work day and you would be subsequently going home afterwards, you wondered if you could bring it up to Jungkook. Your thoughts are interrupted when Jungkook calls you out. Sipping his drink, he inquires: “Y/n, do you know what you’re wearing yet?” You take a moment to think and shake your head no, mentally adding one more thing to your infinite list of things to stress about. “Hmm, are you doing anything else for today then?” and again you shake your head no, not understanding why he felt the need to ask that nor what his intentions were. As Jungkook rises to stand, he quips his head towards the door, motioning for you to follow him. “Alright, well let’s have a dress rehearsal then, shall we?”
Both of you pile into his car, you not too foreign with him driving the luxurious Maserati across town to attend court rulings and client meetings. Yet as the sun begins to set in the city and Jungkook turns on the radio to soft music, you can feel the work stress of the week dissolving from your body, able to let go of the professionalism of the office to just chilling on a car ride. You guess the same goes for Jungkook as he drives steadily with one hand, the other dragging through his soft hair, touselling the usual neat hairdo as the wind blows through it as well, his elbow resting on the windowsill. You never had the opportunity to fully take in Jungkook’s appearance, you’re usually too busy taking care of his tasks or dedicating yourself fully to the case to spare a moment to admire the man all the other women can’t seem to get enough of. You never understood their’ obsession with your boss, giving you the side eye or whispering about you when you first landed the internship, eventually you learned it was all laced with jealousy. You simply recognized Jungkook’s ability and work ethic that you only had respect for the man you would be working with.
However, in the moment of driving like this you truly realized how handsome he was. His side profile contrasts against the disappearing light of the setting sun, his eyes bright and soft though worn with fatigue, the curve of his nose, your gaze tumbling towards his soft lips that are now pulled at the edges as he hums to the song. He truly is remarkable and you regret not being able to see it sooner, his youth honestly exuding from his appearance, in his smile, as he slowly turns his head to face you. For some reason you can’t look away, and you don’t. You stare at him, hoping your gaze isn’t too intense as you take in all his features. His soft smile only grows wider and you notice two perfect imperfections on his face, the whisper of a scar against his left cheek and the devious mole right underneath his bottom lip. He redirects his attention to the road but not before taking in your own soft features, your eyes that still have not abandoned him.
Inhaling, you take in a deep breath of air filling your lungs, able to grasp at the relieving freedom. As Jungkook drives across a bridge, you lean back against the seat and turn towards him again, hands folded between your face and the leather seats.
“Thank you,” you softly say, hoping the wind doesn’t carry your words away from his ear. Without glancing over at you, Jungkook asks “for what,” feeding you the confidence to keep speaking.
“For believing in me I guess.. for believing in my right to closure. No matter how much of a front I put on, it all comes down the moment I remember what happened. Curse my impeccable memory but I can recall everything like it happened yesterday,” you speak with a small, sad smile. Jungkook finally looks over at you again and this time, your soft eyes are lost in the past, lost in the very real, very valid pain that you barely speak about.
“We were slowly fading, I could feel it. I tried so hard to grasp at whatever was left but I just couldn’t, like you know when you lose a balloon and it just keeps drifting away but no matter how high you jump or how hard you run after it, the ribbon just keeps slipping out of your grasp.” Jungkook affirms by nodding so you continue.
“Day by day, his temper grew shorter and the things he would say to me just hit harder. He would tell me that it was my fault we were falling apart, unable to keep up with his affections, unable to cater to his needs, unable to be what he wanted.”
“He didn’t just reject my attempt but he rejected me overall. The things he once adored about me burned with annoyance until he couldn’t even look at me, my appearance and my personality, it all shattered. I felt disgusted with myself, out of my own skin. Because someone couldn’t love me anymore, I couldn't love myself.”
Jungkook caught the tear that escaped your eyes, as it slowly rolled down your cheek, the sunlight glinted off of it, enticing him to reach a hand towards you and brush the memento of pain off your cheek. You looked over at him, catching his gaze as you forced a sad smile. Jungkook could only return with his own small smile, not equal in pain but equal in understanding and empathy.
He didn’t ask for the rest of the story, recalling that it had ended with you catching him in the act with no one else but your childhood best friend. What a fucking dick Jungkook thought to himself. How could anyone do that to someone like you he seriously wondered, his dangerously impassioned thoughts seriously contemplating the sick humanity of some people.
As he parks the car and climbs out, you look around curiously acknowledging the place he had driven to as one of the classiest boutiques in the city. You could barely afford the cheapest clothes hanger here being a college student and all but you guess window shopping would be nice for the soul and easy on the eyes. Silently thanking god you were still dressed in your work clothes, you could walk around without standing out, even more so walking alongside Jungkook. You quickly catch up to his long strides and he chuckles at your fervor to walk next to him. As he pulls a door open, you enter the store hesitantly and wait for him to come inside as well. Your eyes immediately marvel at the grandeur of the place, the crystal chandelier and the endless displays of designer shoes, and couture clothing, the overall extravagant gold aesthetic the store feeds. Your eyes are lighting up and Jungkook makes a note of the way you take in the little things, the subtle glimmer of the waxed floor and the array of mirrors that reflect the crystal light. Too afraid to touch anything, your hand simply graces above the clothes as a small exhale escapes your mouth as if you were holding your breath. Jungkook admires you from behind, your frame walking along the store as your hand is outstretched, lightly skimming the couture, a smile of humility on your face as your eyes reveal the joy you have for art, a simple sight but nonetheless beautiful in his eyes. As Jungkook moves to approach you, he swore to himself he would never ever forget the look on your face, the way his heart skips a beat at the awestruck look you give him, gratitude flashing across your face thanking him for showing you such beauty.
“So what was his favorite color?” Your thoughts fall back down to reality and you stutter to answer before finally responding with an “Excuse me?”
Jungkook gives you a smirk, something you rarely ever see in the office, as he explains himself. “I was thinking that you should wear his favorite color…because then whenever he thinks about the color, it’s associated with how good you will look that night and he will always regret the fact that now his favorite something was something he lost sight of?” his confidence faltering at the end of his scheme. You couldn’t help but giggle at his cute attempt to make the entire comeback plan worthwhile, appreciating his efforts because you can literally see the gears turning in his mind, you take a step closer and give him the most genuine smile you could possibly show.
“Green. Green was his favorite color.”
“Oh and Jungkook? I like that. A lot,” referring to his idea, saying so before he quickly scans the store for any green dresses. As his eyes land on one near the back of the store, he grabs your hands and yank you towards it, your excitement bursting as you grip his hand tighter.
xx
Jungkook anxiously sits outside on the plush sofa in the changing rooms. He’s silently grateful there weren’t many customers in the store so that he could sit in the changing room waiting area without looking too suspicious. He picks up a magazine to skim through while you try on the dress he had chosen for you.
As the heavy velvet curtain slowly moves aside, Jungkook’s eyes gaze up and peer out over the magazine. Immediately he breaks out into a grin as his hand flies up to rub his neck, the tingling in his ears bothersome against the suddenly loud thumping of his heart.
You looked beautiful in green, more so emerald, but nonetheless the dress hugged all the right curves as it stopped mid thigh, the micro slit teasing for more while the top cascaded down your chest, an appropriate amount of cleavage that left much to one’s imagination. The emerald brought out your dark features, the brilliance in your eyes and the subtle blush now on your cheeks.
You had first saw Jungkook’s wide smile and as you took a couple steps back, he got up and took a couple forward. As he came closer, your heart pounding the sound reverberating through your ears, you search his face as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.
“Y/n, you look beautiful.”
It was the simplest compliment anyone could’ve said to you but because it came from Jungkook, it meant so much more. You couldn’t help but flourish at his genuine smile, encouraging you to finally accept how beautiful you are, true to his words.
Eye contact was a frequent occurrence this day, and it didn’t lessen any as you stood there staring into his eyes and his into yours, the proximity much closer than you expected.
The both of you snap back to reality when the pretty sales attendant clears her throat, obviously awkward in her place as her eyes shift around. You recall her earlier attempts at flirting with Jungkook, laughing a little to yourself as she clearly underestimated your relationship with him, feeling the embarrassment flood her interactions with Jungkook now especially with your presence. But not that there was any relationship between you and Jungkook anyway..the mere absurdity of the situation amusing you, you conclude.
Jungkook appears to have concluded just as much also as he also lets out a light laugh and turns towards the attendant. “Thank you for your help, we’ll take it.”
As he moves to help you with the zipper, an unexpected but not intruding gesture you realize the quick reality of the situation. Whipping around and mentally hoping the sales associate was no longer there, you whisper to Jungkook, “Wait! What do you mean take it? Jungkook I can’t afford this!” He laughs at your alarm and simply turns you around before undoing your zipper. “I’ll be waiting outside.”
Confused and even more alarmed when you finally see the exact numbers indicating the price of the dress, you feel your hands nervously shake as you gingerly place the dress on the hanger, fearful for anything to actually happen to the garment. As you step outside the changing room, Jungkook snatches the dress before you could protest and hands it to the sales attendant, swiping his black card as you stand there in silent anguish, knowing you were unable to argue with him now.
Exiting the store, Jungkook has the goofiest grin plastered on his face as he observes your reaction, ranging from your tireless attempts to walk beside his steady strides to mumbling about paying him back in installments. You don’t make much of an effort to speak while trying to catch up with him but after finally settling in the car, you start rambling on how to pay him back and how he could spend so much money on you and how dare he go around spending his money like that, speaking in terms as his secretary. You’re still talking in equal parts dismay and irritation even as you reach a red light, Jungkook’s eyebrow raising as he’s never witnessed you speak so fervently and just, so much. An idea pops into his mind and he’s grinning from ear to ear, but of course you’re oblivious because you’re still in denial at Jeon fucking Jungkook spending so much money on your ass that you’re thrown into shock beyond oblivion when he leans over and presses a kiss to your lips. That better shut her up Jungkook thinks to himself in amusement as he suppresses the smile that’s threatening to escape, concealing it with a cough and bringing his free hand to rest on his philtrum instead.
Your heart obviously can’t take anymore of this and you sit stiffly, making an effort to not make another sound or move. You glance over at Jungkook as he drives, a stupid smirk still on his face and you seriously don’t even know how to begin to comprehend the situation.
He’s still silently observing you in amusement, the way your hands are politely folded in your lap, your head positioned forward but he knows you’re taking glances at him. Jungkook mentally pinches himself for not getting to know you sooner, ultimately deciding that you were definitely someone who has his heart.
As he pulls up to your house after you gave him your address, him quietly prodding your attention to snap you out of whatever state you were currently in, your shoulders immediately release and relieve yourself of the tension you yourself created. You get out of the car and sigh as you turn towards Jungkook getting out of his car as well. He leans against the car from his side, resting his head in his arms on top of the car roof as the night wind softly blows through his hair. Something tugs at your chest and you really don’t want him to leave, upset that for the last leg of the car ride you withdrew yourself over the embarrassment that Jungkook had kissed you.
“Thank you Jungkook. For today, the dress, everything.” You softly smile, hoping to express your genuine gratitude and in some way apologizing for your immature antics after the kiss.
“I’m sorry about the kiss y/n. I didn’t mean to intrude and I don’t have any ulterior intentions either..” Jungkook offers you his most sincere smile, horribly attempting to mask the realization of utter humiliation of his actions, or even worse the consequences of what he did. He was so lost in enjoying your quirks that he failed to realize any misunderstanding of his intentions. Eyes widening, he immediately stammers to offer more of an explanation for his actions, having no actual reason besides the fact that he might be in love, finding any excuse but that.
With the both of you having an equal and fair exchange of self-actualization, embarrassment, and futile attempts to make up for any misunderstanding, you silently listen to his rambling before breaking into a larger grin, soon laughing at both of your antics. Jungkook looks on at you in confusion and so you wonder if he’d like to come in. Shifting the weight of the dress neatly packaged in the designer shopping bag, you ask him, “Um do you want to come in? For a drink or to refresh yourself?” A part of you silently hoping he agrees because you really aren’t ready for the night to end.
And so the night goes on in subtle flirting and obnoxious laughter, you pushing his chest multiple times as he teases at the other people in your office like Mr. Lee, the paralegal, who obviously has the hots for Ms. Min, the single mother lawyer who treats you like her own daughter and whom you have come to love. Competing against Jungkook’s own observations, you point out the prospects of a relationship between Moon-Hee and Dong-Hyuk, the other two lawyers of the legal team.
“No way! They’re always at each other’s throats, no way there’s something between them.”
“Okay but think about how they only tease one another, the way they vie for each other’s attention. Obviously they’re trying to get the other to notice them and they’re both so hopelessly and cluelessly in love that ultimately they resort to bullying one another.”
Jungkook contemplates your observations and slowly expresses his realization with an open-mouthed gasp. “You are such a drama queen, please Jungkook,” uncontrollably giggling at his reactions. He begins to poke at your sides as punishment for calling him out and you really can’t breathe, tapping out on his shoulder.
Jungkook stops before getting serious again, his gaze darkens as he looks at you, “Okay, but what about my brother and Mina though.” He turns sly, his eyebrow quips up as he anticipates your reaction. You nearly jump him, clutching his shoulders and settling on your knees. “OHMYGOD I KNOW RIGHT? YOU CAN SEE IT TOO?” Excitement bubbling in your outburst after finally finding a confidant about the obvious affection between your best friend and the older Jeon. Jungkook just adores your quirk and can’t help but smile. His cheeks are getting sore from all the damn smiling he’s done today but it's worth it because he really wants to show you the genuine happiness you’ve brought out of him.
The two of you ramble on about everything you’ve noticed between Mina and Junghyun, affirming your suspicions but ultimately sighing at their own stubbornness and failing to realize how they truly feel about one another. You’re glad that Mina hadn’t come home yet and you wonder if she was ironically at the office with Junghyun working over time. Eventually Jungkook leaves, and you realize you’re still smiling, if you could smile yourself to sleep that's probably what happened.
Over the course of the next week, you and Jungkook exponentially grow closer than you had over the past year. He calls you into his office more often, even for small things like if his tie was crooked or if his socks matched his pocket square. You attended more meetings with him, followed him around more, brought coffee into his office consistently while he invited you for lunch and dinner almost everyday. You became accustomed to his quirks, not just in the office but on his free time, joining him on more sunset city drives with the windows rolled down, soft music playing, or people watching from the office rooftop after you told him about that place you came to be on top of the world.
xx
The day finally arrives and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t the least bit nervous. Like electricity surging through your veins, your fingers could barely hold steady. Slipping into the dress, your hands skim the fabric, unable to control the tick of your fingers. Mina helps you with the zipper, your nervousness apparent, as she moves your hair to spill over your shoulders and down your back, lightly squeezing your arms to turn you around. Facing the mirror once more, you force your gaze to trail from your legs up until you’ve built enough courage to look at your reflection face on. Truly the dress Jungkook chose does wonders for your legs, your dips, your curves, and most of all your confidence. As you meet your own eyes in the mirror, you can’t conceal the nostalgic sense of love for yourself that you had lost for so long. Not that the dress made you finally acknowledge your worth or beauty, but the fact that it was able to draw out those feelings you had buried. You recall Jungkook’s simple compliment and finally, your own worth and beauty were no longer marred by Hoseok’s damaging and toxic love but rather determined by your own resolve. You were in love with yourself and you couldn’t help but want to save a part of that for someone else as well.
You’re putting on the heels you borrowed from Mina when you hear her stifle a sob, her eyes glistening with tears as if she was daring them to fall.
“Don’t fucking do this to me Mina, stop it, I can’t have my girl crying like this,” as you pull her into a tight hug.
“I’m sorry y/n, you’re just so, so beautiful, and a-and brave, and I hope you wipe that fucking smirk off that dickhead’s face oh godawuehh,” she says in between sobs.
Brushing wet hair out of her face, you grab her cheeks and tell her to get her shit together.
“Min you have your date with Junghyun today, did you really forget? Sis, you can’t show up puffy and red like this even though I’m sure he’s whipped as hell for your ass regardless, but still! You have to look exceptionally pretty tonight so no. more. fucking. tears. Understood?” She carefully nods and is grateful that sometimes you wear the bigger pants around in the house. The tone in which you gave her pep talk was also your own desperate attempt to inject yourself with some confidence, to calm your own nerves.
Well screw that because the apartment buzzes and you open the door for Jungkook. He inhales a sharp breath as he takes you in, his eyes fluttering over your features, bold and elegant, defiant and radiating in his eyes. He’s at a lost for words and you help him out by softly saying “You look amazing.”
Your gaze finally settles on how your boss looks, the perfectly tailored suit flaunting his slim but built physique, the lack of bow or tie and instead the bare collar opened by a couple buttons. His hair is neatly styled except for a couple loose strands that fall the wrong way. Unhesitantly you reach up to brush it out of the way, your hand lightly skimming his dark features, his eyes, the slope of his nose, the curve of his lips open as he follows wherever your hand moves.
Ahem! Mina coughs, or clearing her throat, whatever, interrupting your moment as you quickly withdraw your hand and step back, trying not to notice the way Jungkook’s ears are furiously red.
“Oh, um these are for you Mina,” handing her a bouquet of roses. He explains that they were a pre-date gift from Junghyun and Jungkook rolls his eyes at his brother’s absolute cheese. Mina laughs before accepting them excitedly, composing herself when she realizes you and Jungkook staring.
Glancing at the imaginary watch on her arm, she rushes the two of you towards the door, making you abandon Jungkook to gather your phone and purse. When you turn back around Mina is whispering something into his ear, his face contemplating her words as his eyes widen and fear creeps into his face. As he moves away from her, clearly shaken, she pulls you into a hug instead, smiling innocently.
“Don’t worry about coming home too soon, enjoy your time my beautiful. Bye I love you.”
Finally settling into his car, your curiosity gets the best of you and you turn to ask him what exactly Mina said. He nervously glances back at your apartment building, chokes a little, and mutters something about his dick being tied into a pretty bow. You had to give credit to Mina’s creative integrity whenever it came to instilling fear in people, but certainly you pitied the boy even more so tonight. As Jungkook drives away, fear still blatantly marked across his face, you feel the same equivalence in fear as you realize the night is only beginning.
The sunlight slowly begins to diminish and Jungkook looks over at your tense figure, hands gripping the hem of your dress, knuckles white. He notices the way you chew your bottom lip, your gaze clearly lost in your own thoughts. Jungkook really does feel something for the girl next to him and reaches over, intertwining his fingers with yours. You immediately look over in surprise but the feeling of gratitude washes over you as you hold onto his hand and sink into your seat, grateful for having him by your side and maybe even falling a little into love.
xx
Jungkook pulls up to the Grand Resort Hotel, dropping his keys off with the valet and grabbing your hand once more. Naturally, you intertwine fingers and the feeling feels like home to you. He glances at you again, offering you a mischievous smile.
“You ready to do this?”
Although your heart wants to say no, still afraid of being hurt again, still wary of the throbbing numb and the sinking feeling in your chest, you close your eyes and take a shaky breath in.
“Hell yeah let’s do this,” and with that resolve, you’re smiling right back at Jungkook, matching his quirky smile with your own, ready to get the closure you deserve.
Entering the ballroom, you grip Jungkook’s hand tighter and naturally he pulls you in closer. The room is filled with familiar faces, all the same but just a bit older as you recognize a couple people. Walking past a group of women, you feel their eyes on you as you recall the similar condescending and jealous gazes from high school. You were so intent on proving something to yourself, the resolve stemming from Hoseok that you had forgotten the other ugly parts of high school. The same girls that threw themselves at Hoseok while you guys were dating, the same girls that would speak about you to him, each and every comment laced with the intention to patronize you. Hoseok ultimately falling into their words, believing them and making them a reality. Your confidence falters and you temporarily lose sight of who you’ve become, of who you want to be. Why are you doing this stupid comeback? As if you do have something to prove to these people. What are you even doing y/n?
Jungkook senses your hesitation as you momentarily stop for absolutely no reason and he immediately concludes that it must’ve been someone you saw. His eyes scan your peripheral and they land on the very obvious, demeaning eyes of a group of girls. Jungkook sighs, understanding that whatever happened in the past is out of his control, however he’s intent on making the most of the night for you.
He steps in front of you, blocking your line of sight from whatever it was you were staring at as you were lost in your thoughts, simultaneously snapping you out of it. He places his hands on your arms gingerly and simply says, “Don’t worry about them okay? Just focus on me, me alright? I’m feeling selfish today, sorry y/n but I want your attention to be on me tonight.”
His unexpected method of saving you from your thoughts dissolves any anxiety you had earlier because now you’re only occupied with his face, occupied with his hands touching you.
“Y/n!”
“It’s her! Dude see! I told you!”
You and Jungkook snap out of your moment as you search for the source of your name. You’re immediately flooded with nostalgia and taken back to the happier times in high school. One by one the boys come to surround you, getting their fair share of hugs as you smile at Seokjin, Taehyung, and Jimin. Despite their history with Hoseok, they also had a history with you as their friend. You missed hanging out with them, going AWOL after you broke up with Hoseok. They all chastised their friend for being such a dick, taking your side by all means but choosing rather to give you the space you needed. They all loved you in their own way and you wish you could go back in time to relive the shared memories you had with them, even if that meant dating Hoseok.
Seokjin being the oldest was the best brother you always wanted but never got, period. Taehyung and Jimin were your sun and moon, revolving aspects of your day that were never complete unless they ruffled your hair and pinched your cheeks. Namjoon, who was to arrive later Seokjin explained as you immediately pouted, was your one and only advocate every time you needed someone to listen to your troubles, especially when it was about Hoseok. And finally Yoongi who Jimin pointed out was getting a drink over by the pop-up bar was the one you hung out with the most when Hoseok wasn’t around; you loved Yoongi because of his calm and quiet demeanor, something you both shared as well as your distaste in physical contact. You loved doing anything and absolutely nothing in his company, grateful for the times you were just in his company to cry about the break up.
In a blink, Yoongi was over by your side and you reached for a hug, lingering a while longer than the rest because you genuinely missed him. He eventually pushed you away with a grunt and eyed Jungkook suspiciously.
“Are you gonna introduce us or not y/n,” he stated gruffly, you knowing he was just trying to intimidate your date. But of course it worked and Jungkook took a couple steps behind you, trying to play it off. Tugging Jungkook to your side and pushing Yoongi out of the way, to which he scrunched his face in distaste which you ignored with an innocent smile, you introduce him as your date. As the guys move in to shake his hand, Yoongi clapping his back both reassuringly and threateningly, you feel yourself more at ease knowing the guys were just as happy to see you had moved on. Amidst the excited chatter with your date, everyone freezes as they gaze behind you.
“Y/n, I knew I’d see you again.” That voice. The effortlessly enticing and saccharine sound.
Closing your eyes in an attempt to brace yourself you turn around, and there he is.
“Hello Hoseok,” you say quickly forcing a compromising smile.
His eyes quickly glance between you and Jungkook to your intertwined hands, prompting Jungkook to greet him first again.
“Pleasure seeing you here Hoseok,” Jungkook merely nodding rather than extend his hand. You as well as the others witness Jungkook’s actions, a daring move that earns respect from your old friends.
Hoseok twitches in annoyance as his tongue prods at his inner cheek, studying the two of you as if waiting for the opportunity to strike. At the pulsing tension, the other guys surge forward to greet Hoseok instead, momentarily breaking the strain. While they keep Hoseok occupied, you quickly tug on Jungkook’s hand as he follows you towards the bar, averting any further stare-off between them.
xx
The reunion banquet continues with slideshows and fun photo memoirs of the years that your class attended the school. Several embarrassing photos strewn across the hall as Jungkook whipped out his phone to snap several quick pictures for later black-mailing purposes, despite your strenuous efforts to stop him. Both of you maintain a clear distance from Hoseok, avoiding him by all means, and the guys, especially Taehyung and Jimin did a better job of keeping him away. More so, Yoongi kept you and Jungkook company, the two men getting along more than you had hoped and, to some extent you were very happy about their compatibility. After several speeches by Namjoon, former class president of course, and former teachers who you were surprised weren’t retired and living somewhere closer to God’s waiting room, you slip away to the restroom to freshen up.
Squeezing Jungkook’s arm and giving him a quick peck on his cheek while excusing yourself from the table you sat at with the guys and their own dates, you walk towards the women’s room. Before you could push open the door, a hand tightly grips your wrist and pushes you against the wall. Before you could scream out, you realize the hand belonged to Hoseok and instead your fear was replaced with annoyance and exasperation.
As you struggled to free your wrist from his hand, he simply lets go with a smirk played on his face. Yet his eyes hold yours hostage and refraining from losing you push him away. As you begin to walk back, ignoring the urge to wash your hands and spend another moment near him, he stops you with a scoff.
“Y/n, you can’t look like this. No one will ever buy into how you look like this.”
As you turn back around, your expression is completely indifferent and at peace with yourself, all remnants of fear and humiliation dispelled as you finally realize his petty desperation, the pitiful attempt to bring you down like he had done before. Your mind was made and now you had someone you needed to get back to. Looking him square in the eyes, the most self-loving and indulgent smile playing at your lips, you challenge him.
“Oh yeah Hoseok? I’m a lawyer so sue me.”
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Arthur & The Myth of Sisyphus
(Arthur/staircase juxtaposed to Sisyphus/rock)
As disclaimer, this may be a generalised statement/inductive analysis, not unique to his diegesis. Will probably be too verbose for some to read, but writing is organic as breathing for me and if I don’t discuss my beautiful clown husband at length, I might very well be caught with a bruised and desiccated lung lol (as you can probably tell, academia is hæmorrhaging into my casual diction)
I’m typing this, more or less, to illustrate my (possibly exhausted) perspective on how significant the staircase is to Arthur’s narrative. Specifically focusing on how it relates to Sisyphus and his eternal struggle to push a cumbersome stone uphill. (Says this all the while knowing I’ll lose said focus by the end of this, oops) That being said, this also just might be some cathartic release in the form of diluted research.
All things considered, with an economy that appears to teeter just so on the verge of instability, most, if not all, may resonate with the impending sense of futility that accompanies society’s defective concept and subsequent flawed execution of ‘adulthood’, including, but not limited to: excessive demands imposed by draconian academia, 9-5 corporate mandates exercised to excess; in addition to parenthood (if applicable). All for the sake of feeding continued survival in a universe where life is erroneously scrutinised under myopic scope of legality. Summarily, we can all embrace solidarity in our respective sharing of adversity, attended by a seemingly endless, merciless journey towards acceptance.
Arthur is my most current muse within the fictional realm (irreplaceable, to boot) so this character study might be more gratuitous than enlightening, but, in essence, I often like to conceive him as a resounding echo that’s effectively sound in giving voice to the voiceless; whispered and indistinct though it may be. However, it could be said that the power of his presence resides, not in the delicate, understated nuance of his vocal tone, but rather the elegant and passionate language of dance pronounced by his feet. Namely, the Sisyphean task of climbing that emblematic staircase.
Whether suffering a daily, if not arduous, ascent one derelict step at a time, or dancing a rhythmic descent to liberation, Arthur’s soles bespeak of a soul that’s been tormented relentlessly throughout the near 40 year span of his existence. Heels throbbing with Weltschmerz, the resulting ache of his travails would often appear as little more than a numbing nuisance to be rubbed away upon a less whimsical return as the prodigal son. In this way, the audience might compare Penny’s impact in Arthur’s life to that of the onerous stone that plagues Sisyphus. Despite being an absent force to her son’s oppressive intimacy with these formidable steps, there is something to be said for the manner in which concern is essentially a wisp in the void when her child’s health utters a silent plea, a murmured urgency, for attention.
Perhaps, we could all agree that a fraction of Artie’s extroverted anger towards Thomas was only partially misdirected. As a means to demonstrate the implied difficulty Arthur expresses for emotional release, especially so for repressed anger, it would have been interesting to witness a scenario in which he doesn’t heed Penny’s request whilst hiding behind a closed door. Given the egocentric brush that paints a broad stroke to her demeanour, would he be vindicated in raising his voice a few decibels ? If for no other reason than to dispel frustration by virtue of necessity. Of course, this isn’t to undermine the fact that Arthur displays potential signs of regressive behaviour (not exclusive to his circumstance but nevertheless germane). A hapless symptom of afflicted childhood incited by an inflamed basis of Nature v. Nurture.
With nearly all sense of identity drifting aimlessly as unanswered queries, there could be reason yet as to why Arthur adopts his Carnival and Joker personas. Beyond factors of aspiration and affinity alone. As someone (myself) who could be classified with mild alexithymia, all the while being fairly averse to labels, the concept of employing alter egos solely to assist in self-expression may not be uncommon, if not muted in translation. In a way that isn’t explicitly stated, we could infer that Arthur enforcing a purpose to evoke genuine smiles and laughter is a means to compensate for those of which he was deprived during his formative years. Speaking as an armchair psychologist, there could be evidenced an intimation of placebo effect for the presence of Pseudobulbar Affect. While this syndrome affects the nervous system and is hence more physiological than psychological, the nature of its infliction could be considered as a bridge between the two.
Certain conditions, of which remain unknown, from his childhood may have contributed to the development of this condition, emphasising a noted relation to thinking patterns. My theory is that any measure of neurosis is directly proportional to the degree of physical complications that may manifest. Arthur is a fairly sensitive man. A rough sketch of this attribute can be observed even whilst Arthur is gallivanting as Joker. In fact, one could even venture to say that his identity is actualised in this form. Cliché ? Yes. But, no less pertinent. Furthermore, a deduction might be made in which Carnival alludes to being a medium that balances the dichotomy between Arthur/Joker.
Yes, these may be points that have been proposed ad nauseam 😶 You also may be wondering: Exactly what role does Sisyphus play in this ?
Ultimately, I’ve come to the conclusion (hagiography) that Arthur, while emotionally sensitive, hardly translates that sensitivity to his visceral being. Revisiting the first bathroom scene, maybe one could see the gloomy reflections of Atlas and Sisyphus reflected in one burdened man, lost in soulful dance. Summarily, he could never strike me as one to admit defeat. To succumb to the siren’s lure of quietus. As illustrated by every Joker rendition before him, Arthur Fleck is no different in how his philosophy materialises. Blending the colours of absurdism and nihilism. While the assertion seems contradictory, considering Arthur’s initial intent to commit suicide on live television, I do believe his animus was strictly encouraged by his comedic inspiration, opposed to an active desire.
Fundamentally, this leads me to my final point (although, admittedly, this isn’t the end, I could literally talk to death about this man, and I will). The contrast of comic styles between Arthur and Murray. This might be the understated controversy of discourse, and my perspective on the matter may be unpopular, if even acknowledged, but just to clear the air, the following assumption isn’t meant to excuse him or his actions. Rather, to offer perspective. If you observe carefully, you might notice that there’s no distinct disparity between Murray and Arthur’s sense of humour. Given the era and its dogged appeals to censorship, Murray’s delivery could be regarded as nothing short of condensed and disguised. As our dear Artie reiterates, comedy is indeed subjective, but, as a matter of course, the brand that either presents isn’t particularly risible given context.
As an audience, we only know Murray on a superficial level. We know he’s a comedian. By the end of the film’s duration, we might have dismissed him as the stock bully. His humour was cruel, callow and sadistic when dispensed towards a man who deemed him a pillar of admiration. However, similar could be said for Arthur’s execution. Consistently morbid and sardonic, these elements of comedy that provoke laughter for Arthur comprise a vague semblance to Murray’s comedic anatomy, despite how patently trite and puerile the latter’s jesting was, when delivered to our undeserving victim.
Arthur was thoroughly justified in his feelings of despondency and disenchantment. Yet, objectively speaking, depending on either side of contention, one’s perception may be determined by whether or not his sensitivity was merely exaggerated when juxtaposed to a comedian who was, more or less, just doing his job; albeit questionably. Unprofessionally. We couldn’t know exactly what Murray was thinking or precisely why he invited Arthur on his show. Surely, public humiliation wasn’t his prime agenda. Curiously enough, I seemed to detect an air of indifference expressed by him when Arthur confessed (*insert delusional gif*). As if it was to be expected.
Ipso facto, with how the sequence pans out, there may have been the possibility of Murray personally investigating the subway murders and considering Arthur a suspect, consequently aiming to extract his confession (a reach, I know ! ) but, maybe not...
Not when the theory of Arthur contriving delusions, having been situated in Arkham the entire time, chimes as possible reasoning.
That, in itself, is a paradox...
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...Will we ever ?
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salmankhanholics · 5 years
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★ Sultan to Bharat: Salman Khan’s mega success features a Delhi University biochemistry grad!
8 June, 2019 
Ali Abbas Zafar is a master at disguising the subtext in the opulent, big-budget spectaculars he has been delivering.
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One of Bollywood’s biggest hit-machines is a man who left his home in Dehradun at 16 to study biochemistry at Delhi’s Kirori Mal College, but survived on a diet of Saadat Hasan Manto, Premchand and William Shakespeare. Ali Abbas Zafar has recast Salman Khan’s career with three mega movies, Sultan (2016), Tiger Zinda Hai (2017) and now Bharat (2019).
He is the Salman Whisperer. Son of a father who moved from the Border Roads Organisation to ONGC and a mother who taught English and Urdu at a government school, Ali Abbas Zafar has single-handedly made back-to-back Rs 300-crore movies.
Zafar, 37, is a master at disguising the subtext in the opulent, sometimes noisy, big-budget spectaculars he has been delivering. His early reading shaped his worldview, gave him his belief in equality, in rational thought, and in India’s democracy. His heroes were Bhagat Singh (in Tiger Zinda Hai, Tiger reads a bedtime story about him to his son) and Mahatma Gandhi, and it is no accident that he believes India’s greatest strength is its diversity.
Also read: Salman Khan’s Eid release Bharat finally has him play a character his age — a 70-year-old
Nelson Mandela inspired me, he says. So did the Dalai Lama. “You listen to him and realise how simply he sees the world. The first instinct of all these great men,” he tells ThePrint, “is and was always humane and emotional.”
It’s a message he hopes will reach every last person in the line buying tickets for Salman Khan’s films; and the star clearly trusts him enough to do what is asked of him, whether it is putting on weight to play an out-of-shape boxer on his way to redemption in Sultan or switching from a motorcycle to a horseback to a battered sedan to escape an ISI militant in a town called Ikrit in Tiger Zinda Hai.
Or, play a character embodying the nation in his new film. “Tujh main poora Bharat hai beta,” says his father to a young Salman in Bharat. He asks him to take care of his family, and Salman does precisely that over 70 years of change in India – watching over events from Jawaharlal Nehru’s death to the liberalisation of the Indian economy and its asli hero, Manmohan Singh, along the way working on an oil rig in the Arabian desert, and fighting Somali pirates on the high seas.
Sitting in the atrium of Yash Raj Studios, which has been his home since 2008, Zafar says: “The nation is one big family and by contributing to it, you are contributing to the nation. To say this with a superstar with a mass mainstream following is challenging”.
And so, he focuses on what is humane – Salman as an oil rig worker fights with the American supervisor over quality of food, or the young orphan in the refugee camp in 1947 who refuses to go to Pakistan though he is a Muslim because his father fought for India’s freedom. “I am not interested in propagating one party’s goodness over another. I am interested in remaining true to my characters, to use their narrative to understand the times we are in,” says Zafar. “And I want to leave everyone with hope,” he adds.
So, if Salman played the classic underdog in Sultan, who was fighting the demons within, in Tiger Zinda Hai, he took on an enemy who was threatening to destroy the world with his evil ideology and who could be fought only by uniting India and Pakistan’s forces.
The idea for Bharat came from Salman, says Zafar, who loved the South Korean film, Ode to my Father (2014), and wanted him to adapt it. “I think what appealed to Salman was the idea of one man looking out for his family,” says Zafar, which is similar to the star’s own life.
Zafar’s worldview was cemented by his three years at the Kirori Mal College, not so much because of the course, but because of his involvement with its much-feted dramatic society, The Players. He staged a play annually in college. From then on, working in films was his only obsession.
He was the runner in Lakshya (2004) for 10 days when the Farhan Akhtar film was shot in Delhi, and then assisted Shonali Bose on her film Amu (2005), based on the 1984 anti-Sikh riots. “That’s when I realised the power of cinema to effect social change, how it can create tremendous social consciousness and how it can happen at both ends of the spectrum, from Satyajit Ray to Yash Chopra,” he says.
So, he packed his bags and came to Mumbai to work as an assistant director on Shaad Ali’s Jhoom Barabar Jhoom (2007) and has never looked back. Quizmaster Siddhartha Basu, who was cast in Tiger Zinda Hai, says: “Zafar’s sensibility is grounded in the progressive stream of large canvas commercial cinema, and he’s been developing his story-telling abilities to match that. His focus, discipline and patience have helped him juggle the pulls and pressures of handling big-ticket projects with challenging stakeholders while remaining steadfast to the integrity of his vision”. No small feat in the Hindi film industry.
Zafar credits Aditya Chopra, movie director and chairman of Yash Raj Films, for allowing him the freedom to find his own distinct voice, especially in an environment which has become severely critical of everything. After experimenting with his vision in Mere Brother ki Dulhan (2011) and Gunday (2014), he felt he found his artistic ideal in Sultan.
What is unique about Zafar is also his collaboration with Salman. He believes the 53-year-old’s fans want to celebrate when they see his movies. “They see him as an instant energiser, like a bottle of soda who will douse them with his fizz. They don’t want to be disoriented. I believe there is a very beautiful actor under the skin of the superstar,” says Zafar. “His first instinct is always that of an actor and I have often asked him to do things, which reveal his vulnerabilities. As a director, you cannot judge your actor. You have to be like a parent, take care of the actor while he or she is on the set, between action and cut.”
Salman and he communicate silently, says Zafar, “usually through our eyes”. “We talk only when we have to. We are honest with each other and yes, we do have differences of opinion at times. Sometimes I let him prevail, sometimes he lets me prevail,” he says. But the rise and fall of movies should not affect relationships, he adds, perhaps alluding to rumours of a divide between him and Salman on the final cut of Bharat.
Zafar lives quietly amid the hurly-burly of Bollywood. He is single, obsessed with his travel, his reading, watching TV, and playing sports. “I keep my personal and professional life separate. I don’t try to be anyone’s buddy. I was raised in an isolated way and left home when I was very young. When I am part of a filmmaking team of 200 people, I realise I have to be a team player, but once I am done, I am off,” he says.
No doubt, to think about and create the next blockbuster.
The author is a senior journalist. Views are personal.
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