#i waffled over including this because I know it will drive Helen bonkers but

[professorspork]

Floating Array Anon here! Those are all really good points! And I'll concede that "weapon" was probably not the best term to use. I just think there's a really interesting debate to be had about the moral implications of creating (or raising) a sentient being for a specific purpose, especially if that purpose involves violence and death. There's a conversation somewhere in there between Penny and Pietro that I really want to see, since Pietro might blame himself in a way for his daughter's fate.

Oh, absolutely! [And here’s that Floating Array post, for those of you just tuning in.]

Part of what’s interesting here is that the show has encouraged us not to think of Pietro that way, because Ironwood is right there. I was going to make a “Penny has two dads” joke about it, but the crux of it, really, is that she doesn’t. She has one boss, and one dad. Whereas Ironwood consistently talks about her like a tool to be used (“Penny is completely under my control”) or a robot as unfeeling as he is (“If there is no Mantle then there is no reason for you not to work with me”), Pietro unequivocally thinks of her as his daughter. That’s what he tells the kids-- “my daughter’s told me so much about you.” Obviously the big crowning moment of this is in Amity, when he straight up says he does not care about saving the world, he doesn’t want her in danger. He wants her to live her life. But that wasn’t an eleventh hour first-time admission. He’s been consistent about this as long as we’ve known him. I’m thinking about his conversation with Ruby in Worst Case Scenario as a sort of prime example. He frets over “what people want to do to my girl,” and then explains:

Pietro: When the General first challenged us to find the next breakthrough in defense technology, most of my colleagues pursued more obvious choices. I was one of the few who believed in looking inward for inspiration. Ruby: You wanted a protector with a soul. Pietro: I did. And when General Ironwood saw her, he did too. 

Every time Pietro talks about Penny in terms of what she can do, her purpose... it’s voiced through other people. The General wanted defense technology. Ruby’s the one who calls her a protector; he just agrees. 

The moral quandary Pietro needs to reckon with isn’t that he made a weapon and called it a girl (see: Rhodes and Cinder), or that he raised a girl and called her a weapon (see: Marcus and Mercury Black). It’s that he was asked to make a weapon, and instead he raised a girl, and now he buries his head in the sand and despairs when she and everyone around her still talks about her in terms of violence and utility. Penny believes she’s not a weapon, most of the time, but she’s a little shakier about what she is, instead. And no wonder, because Pietro’s been dodging the question since day one. He delivered the opposite of what was asked for and then let himself pretend that’s not what happened. Ironwood asked for a thing-- a thing that would stand between Atlas and the darkness, a thing that could protect people... ostensibly so PEOPLE wouldn’t have to get hurt. But Ironwood isn’t squeamish about this because of human cost, he’s intent on it because of efficiency. What’s better, squishy soldiers or an army of combat drones? A dozen tiny Huntsman or one fuckoff giant mecha? Of course he greenlit the Penny Project; it’s all the benefits of a human combatant-- the improvisation, the discernment, the ability to prioritize-- with, as far as he’s concerned, none of the risks. There’s no death for a thing that can be rebuilt, and no pesky feelings to deal with. As far as he knows.

But the problem is Pietro made a person instead, and loved her. But everyone else still needed and expected her to be something else, because that’s what was commissioned. And I don’t know that Pietro knows how to process his own hand in that, and how poorly it went, without framing it as regret for making her, which he absolutely doesn’t. So what would coming to terms with that look like, instead? If Pietro were to blame himself, he’d say something like “I never should have let them use her like that.” But she was made to be used-- he would never have had a Penny to lose in the first place if he hadn’t agreed to make a military asset. There is no scenario where he could have woken up one day and made himself a daughter; he’d never have gotten the funding or materials. He must learn to accept the chicken with the egg. How does he square his complacency with the Atlas war machine with his pride in what he did in spite of it? How does he make amends to someone he doomed by making, when she became so much? I don’t know. That’s not an easy question to answer. Ozpin’s had thousands of years to dwell on it and he still hasn’t figured it out.

Because the thing is, Pietro’s waffling over her purpose got Penny’s sense of identity caught in the middle. She’s getting mixed messages. So many of her most important conversations are about her struggling to figure out if her experience is universal or only her burden to bear. Ruby (and to some extent, Winter) must reassure her over and over: no, that’s normal, everyone feels like that, your emotions are relatable and also valid. She feels so much guilt-- for not being optimal, or for not following orders. She wasn’t able to single-handedly keep the Grimm out of Mantle and therefore ensure everything else could go as planned; she wasn’t able to save Fria; she stole Winter’s destiny from her. If she were what they made her to be, surely she wouldn’t have failed, right? It’s why it’s heartbreaking when she pulls Ruby aside in Refuge:

“I was the protector of Mantle, but now, I am much more than that... and I wish I was not.”

But the thing is, if they bring her back-- and this is one of the many reasons I believe they have to-- she won’t be.

Finally.

This has been the goal all along. Ruby outwitted Ambrosius because she was desperate to get Penny out from under the burden of her terrible purpose-- to do what she’s ordered to, to be at the beck and call of those who outrank her, or die trying. And then Penny went and sacrificed herself anyway, which: of course she did. Because she was taught it was all she was good for, if you want to be mean about it, or-- or because she thought it was the right thing to do, if you’re forgiving. It’s the same thing any of her friends would do, if they were in her shoes. I’m giving you a head start. That’s what love looks like; it’s the choice heroes make. Isn’t it?

But to get at the root of the problem, we have to rewind back further. Penny was reactivated the first time not because Pietro wanted her to be (though surely he did), but because she had a job to do. The contract wasn’t finished; Ironwood wasn’t going to give up on his fancy new toy just because it fell apart. But now? There’s no more Mantle to protect. Atlas has fallen. And beyond that-- her friends don’t need her to be the Maiden, either. That’s a mutable title, and one that has passed her by; they still have one, even with her gone.

So this next time around... she’ll have the chance to process why she made the decisions she did, and to move past it, because she’ll know how much she’s worth to them. Not the Penny Project, not the Winter Maiden, but Penny Polendina.

Which is to say: they don’t need her, they just want her. 

They want her. 

#Anonymous #penny polendina #rwby #pietro polendina #the family polendina #i waffled over including this because I know it will drive Helen bonkers but #this is Will and Lyra shit #‘Memory's a poor thing to have. It's your own real hair and mouth and arms and eyes and hands I want. #I didn't know I could ever love anything so much.’ #but Leah you say #that's nuts and dolts stuff and they asked about pietro #YES AND THAT'S WHY IT'S IN THE TAGS YOU SEE #I HAVE OUTWITTED THE SYSTEM