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paradife-loft · 4 years

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the-mirador

replied to your post

“more mdzs novel bloggin. - explicit exposition that Jin Guangshan had...”

i think the discussion in the second paragraph is why i preferred the frame job in the show, because i didn't sense any sort of shift in /how/ he was controlling Wen Ning at any point, such that /he/ would believe that he lost control? (like tbh the way the scene was shot made it seem weird to me that he didn't immediately assume something fishy was going on). so it's disappointing to me that given what you've described, there's not a significant difference in terms of what he's actually doing that would make "losing control" more credible. i will say that i tentatively prefer the "framed" version, because i don't feel like i have a good enough sense of how the magic system works to understand why he fumbled, such that it would feel to me like more of a consequence of the general system of magic being used rather than the specific technique/intent, if that makes sense? and while i would like a more morally gray WWX, i'd prefer that to be about him committing /intentional/ acts of violence than taking on something he couldn't quite control. but that's just my preference.

woooo, awake/not at work/generally capable of replying to this now! I definitely feel what you’re saying here, and I think this plus some other discussion I’ve seen today about adaptational differences is all going to inform the, sort of free-association ramble below. so:

the point about the magic system! it occupies a weird space for me because in either medium, the magic is really only sketched out briefly, through implications a lot of the time, and in drips and pieces throughout the whole story - but also I’m the sort of person who compulsively and in many instances subconsciously tries to assemble the pieces of magic in a story into a comprehensive whole, filling in gaps in much more detail than an original canon gives us? so while I absolutely can be (and had been) automatically tossing up all manner of hypotheses that made sense to me for how WWX could have lost control of his powers, I find it frustrating for the text itself not to provide an account of what specifically happened in Wen Ning’s case, when the setup of that scene in particular makes me want a more detailed explanation of what went wrong to go from “WN fighting a hundred ranged combatants” to “WN now in melee, punching through a dude’s chest”. did he finish off the 100 archers and come down to help WWX, picking any target at random? did Jin Zixuan showing up emit a “delicious high-cultivation life energy, come and get it!” signal to any fierce corpses around that would prompt him to ditch the lowbie archers for a more interesting target? had WWX been keeping a part of his mind focused on an order to WN to control who he was attacking, and the destruction of his gift for Jin Ling fucked up his emotional control and focus such that his argument with JZX got mixed into the “orders for who Wen Ning should murder” channel? there’s implications that this latter is how we’re supposed to read it, but because throughout the scene there’s not... actually any narration of orders being given to Wen Ning in any format at all, it’s still very much a “who knows?!” situation.

and for that matter - the combination of logistics and lackluster explanatory narration that kills that scene, feels even more striking when compared to the very next instance of WWX losing control, in the battle at Nightless City. first, we have a context that makes what’s going on a lot more obvious and plausible, in addition to imo some stronger narration of what is actually happening for Wei Wuxian’s internal perspective. like: he’s pretty clearly unleashing a whole bunch of corpses, directing them to kill anyone on this battlefield except the Jiang sect disciples. he’s explicitly said to be in a volatile emotional state, furious and then terrified once Jiang Yanli shows up; and his panic is destroying the control he’s able to exert over the corpses. JYL is one of many potential targets to a large number of corpses in the exact same area (not a single corpse up until now on a different part of the battlefield). WWX specifically issues an order to the corpse coming after JYL, which is ignored; and later, when he exerts great effort to steady his mind, he’s able to make them obey him again and stop killing.

I think a part of the trouble I have with using “Wei Wuxian loses control of his cultivation abilities and kills people he didn’t want to” as a part of his moral greyness, is that perhaps ironically, I haven’t really gotten the impression in the novel that him losing control of those abilities was something likely that he should have weighed more heavily in his decisions to continually use demonic cultivation in the first place. and this might be a failure on the part of my memory, but - I felt like I got the sense that his control over himself and the spirits he commanded was much more volatile and likely to blow up in his face during the drama, not the novel. and since the ethical value of a loss of control is about whether it’s something foreseeable and possible to take precautions against, rather than whether it happens at all - the two versions feel almost mismatched to me.

(if you want “morally grey due to intentional acts of violence committed,” though, what seems like a real shame to me is actually the difference in the scene a bit after Qiongqi Path, where WWX finds the bunch of low-level cultivators being assholes about the Wens and goes to town on them. the drama version of this scene is kind of ambiguous about what’s actually happening to these people, but in the novel, WWX actually does a lot of curb-stomp \-battle grievous bodily harm to this batch of nobodies - breaks some legs, kicks out a guy’s teeth, etc. - just as a directionless expression of his rage. it’s good.)

....I think ultimately where I’m settling, as far as what my “bits of multiple versions mashed together personal canon” comes out to, is having the Qiongqi Path incident be a framing, but the Nightless City scene not be? keeping both incidents as pure loss of control on WWX’s part feels a bit like it blunts the impact of what’s going on with his mental state once he thinks WQ & WN have been killed - is the recapitulation of his major trauma more or less equivalent to the (admittedly shitty) way he’s treated when ambushed by JZX? and besides that, the specific outcome of the Nightless City incident, Yanli getting hurt, just seems more likely to happen as a result of a loss of control compared to the specific dead-Jin-Zixuan outcome of Qiongqi Path. (since there are also plenty of other ways in which Qiongqi Path is a setup, adding in yet another layer of that doesn’t feel quite so... exonerating, as making the additional deaths at Nightless City not WWX’s fault does? at least that’s my opinion.) so doing a little bit of each version I think ultimately... preserves the level of competence WWX is always shown as having with his abilities - a competence that only breaks down under a truly extraordinary circumstance - while also not wiping him morally spotless in the department of being too reckless and uncaring, and thus getting innocents/his loved ones hurt in the process.

#the mirador #conversating #no good things for the poor sad cultivators #rambling #I don't know how well any of this fits together exactly? but there's a lot of stuff I'm chewing on lately re: different adaptations' themes #Wei Wuxian #meta #(lol... ish)

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romijuli · 3 years

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Self-Indulgent OM! Bullshit

i was gonna let this man have some dignity but then ned streamed what happens if you hit on him during the games event and I couldn’t resist. Sorry, buddy.

as stated prior this was supposed to be done probably yesterday except a) snekday and b) tsuzuru so out of respect....today.

Set during the castle party thing during lesson.....7 I wanna say? I WISH i had put more Mammon and Levi in because i do love them but Levi is very hard to make cooperate in this environment and I feel like Mammon would have either been jealous or wildly out of character.

Contains: Entirely too much (questionably-described) dancing, many allusions to the thing in lesson 6 and the author’s current dislike of Lucifer (sorry...), a Lot of profanity because it’s me, asmo being a lovable shithead, brief mentions of horny (as asmo tends to encourage), SO much fucking dumbassery these two are idiots, the author dumping all their uwus on best boy-

“Chel. Come dance with me. Now.”

This would be miserable regardless, but to add insult to injury, Lucifer’s parading around in his demon form (like the rest of them, sure, but Chel doesn’t have a problem with the rest of them). Sure, he may have apologized (as much as Chel is reluctant to believe it, and regardless of his honesty, what the fuck, Lucifer), but one apology doesn’t erase the fact that the last time Chel saw his stupid demon form, they nearly died. And would have actually died, if it weren’t for Diavolo’s intervention.

Shit, they gotta find an out.

“Oh, uh…wouldn’t it be weird if it was just you and me out there with a bunch of random demons?” they ask, forcing a giggle. “I’d really prefer if there were more people I knew dancing, too…”

Beel frowns, bless him. “I’m not the best dancer…”

A-ha! An opening. Chel could fucking kiss him, if they weren’t terrified of messing up a pretty nice friendship, and also if he weren’t ungodly tall. (Curse their tiny body.) “In that case…” They bow, briefly transforming the ballroom into their own stage slash classroom, if only in atmosphere. “I took classes back in the human world, so I can show each of you how to! Besides, it’s unfair for Lucifer to keep me to himself for the whole night.” They stick their tongue out at said demon while he isn’t looking, earning a stifled laugh from Satan.

“I suppose this is agreeable,” Lucifer relents, laying a hand on Chel’s waist moments before they wriggle out of his grasp.

“On my terms,” they tell him, a smug little sing-song tone to their voice that they know is pissing him off. And yet, he sighs, laying a hand on their shoulder and accepting his fate regardless. Amazing. Maybe this man is a bottom after all.

The conversation—the entire point of his bizarre need to dance with them in the first place—mostly goes in one ear and out the other. Yet another threat to their life should they cause problems for Diavolo, which would have been concerning if this wasn’t the fifth time he’d told them this, and also if their fingers weren’t inches away from his feathers. (They decide not to risk death this time.)

Solomon, by the grace of the Demon King or whoever the hell they pray to down here, cuts in. Chel graciously offers him the chance to lead, considering he seems to know what he’s doing (and isn’t Lucifer). The conversation turns to pacts and magic, and before they really know what’s happening, they’re sent spinning into Satan with Solomon’s magical power now flowing through them.

“Wait, do you know how to dance, actually?” they ask, and at his surprisingly-timid no, they place a hand on his waist. “Alright, just try to follow my lead. Right foot back first…”

He’s a quick study, because of course he is; Chel doesn’t know terribly much about him yet, but they do know that he’s incredibly studious, so it makes sense that he’d pick up quickly on this. They even manage to spin him, once!

And so, on and on it goes, from partner to partner, helping those in need of teaching and simply enjoying themself with the more practiced dancers in the room. Talking about baking with Luke (and about their favorite demon, of course), learning a bit more about interrealm politics from Diavolo, Barbatos and Simeon, watching Mammon stammer through a waltz, and even managing to peel Levi out from wherever he was hiding…it’s more fun than Chel has had in a while, really. For all the shit the Devildom’s put them through in a month and a half, it’s moments like this that iron home that, really, it’s not all that bad.

“Well, dear,” Asmo purrs, suddenly far too close to Chel for comfort, “I do hope you’ve saved a dance for me.”

They roll their eyes. “Duh. I intend on dancing with everyone here.”

“And yet you’ve yet to dance with my darling little brother?” He feigns a gasp as he takes their hand, head motioning towards a certain gluttony demon.

Ah, fuck, can Asmo tell that they’d left Beel for last to make sure that they had the most time with him? Shit, make up a cover story… “I figured he’d benefit from watching everyone else, first. He did say he wasn’t good at it…” (Not a lie, technically; he probably would, though Chel likes to think they know Beel well enough to assume that he’s probably just doing The Thing again.)

Asmo smirks at them in return. “It’s no use hiding these things from a lust demon, you know.”

They blink, practically feeling the color drain from their face. “Wh—what are you talking about? We’re friends,” they whisper, desperately trying to focus on their steps. “And keep it down! I don’t want anyone getting the wrong idea—”

“So you’re saying you don’t want to climb him like a tree, hm?”

“No!” …Okay, if they’re really being honest with themself, that’s not quite the truth. (How they managed to survive that final night in his room was known only to god.) “Well, I mean, yes, but that’s not the point. I’d just rather not risk a friendship by being a lovestruck dumbass. It’s fine, I’ve managed before, I’ll do it again.”

Asmo rolls his eyes (rude), whispering, “I suspect that won’t be nearly as much of a problem as you believe it to be,” before letting them go and sauntering off towards Solomon. (No offense to Asmo, but Chel suspects that he doesn’t worry much about ruining friendships.) Which leaves…

They rush over towards Beel (who’s still on the sidelines, looking terribly nervous), holding out their hand. “Are you really not a good dancer, or are you just being modest?” Their preferred word choice would be closer to self-deprecating, all things considered, but they make a point of being gentle with him—considering that it appears his brothers don’t—and unfortunately that includes not calling him out on being particularly rude to himself.

He almost shrinks into himself, which is both a) kind of impressive considering that he is the tallest person in the room and b) incredibly sad. (It’s a look that really doesn’t belong on him, and it makes their heart hurt. Good lord, they spent a week or two in his room and just fell head over heels, huh?) “I just take up a lot of space. I’ve stepped on a few people’s toes…”

Chel has never been more thankful that their ballroom dance teacher insisted on making his students alternate roles. They have experience leading taller folks around far more crowded spaces. (Not that being taller than Chel is a terribly impressive feat.) “Then let me take the lead,” they tell him, hand still outstretched. “It’ll be fine, trust me. I like to think I’m a pretty good teacher.”

He still looks hesitant, but ultimately takes their hand, following them out onto the floor. Chel is all-too-mindful of Asmo’s eyes on them; seriously, they almost prefer him hitting on them. (Almost.)

“Okay, left hand on my shoulder,” they mumble, resting their right hand on his waist, taking great care to avoid his wings. (They probably aren’t fragile, but Chel never got around to asking, and they’d really rather not risk hurting him. The poor thing nearly died last week—theoretically, anyway.) “I can count, if that makes you less worried about running into anyone?”

Beel nods, eyes aimed anywhere but at them as he—very delicately, fucking adorable—rests his hand on their shoulder. (He’s being quieter than normal, which is…a bit concerning. Maybe he just feels out of his element?)

They count under their breath, lightly squeezing the hand still clasped in their own as they take their first step. He’s doing fine, as far as they can tell (not a good dancer their ass, they knew he was doing The Thing again), so before long they drop the counts entirely, as a test. Which he passes, because of course he does. He’s perfect.

“Hey, uh,” they begin, desperate to break the vaguely-uncomfortable silence now hanging over the ballroom, “have you been…doing okay? Now that you’re rooming by yourself again, I mean.”

He actually manages to meet their eyes this time. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s…quiet, but that’s how it was when Belphie was here, anyway.”

Oh, they really do regret not being able to tell him where Belphie actually is, but the inevitable fight with Lucifer—not that Lucifer doesn’t deserve it, seriously, what the fuck was that whole thing in the mausoleum—would probably not be a good idea until they can make pacts with everyone.

“Right,” they mumble in reply. “And the nightmares?”

His lack of response and refusal to look them in the eye tells them everything they need to know.

They squeeze his hand again. “Hey, you know you can come over if they’re bugging you, right?” They smile at him, (hopefully) reassuringly. “I don’t mind. Being left alone with your thoughts can be…upsetting.” (They make a point of not telling the brothers about their particular (metaphorical) demons—they only told Belphie about their fear of drowning because he asked, and it was only fair because he told them about how he’d gotten locked up in the attic in the first place—but they figure it’s safe to say that they have their own issues.) “Plus, I really wouldn’t mind another sleepover!”

Beel doesn’t respond to that either, presumably focused on getting the steps right. (Fair, if he really doesn’t think he’s that good at it.) Chel’s not in the mood to push it—when are they ever, really?—so they let their offer go unanswered. They know he’ll take them up on it, or at least they’re pretty sure of it. For now, they simply enjoy themself as much as they can. Which is to say…

Well, it’s not that they’re not enjoying themselves (they are very much enjoying themself) but they’re all too aware of the rather close proximity to their friend, who they have a very big crush on. They’re pretty sure their heart is pounding. Fuck, can he tell?

They look up at him to check only to find that his face is bright fucking red.

“Shit, are you okay?” The hand on his waist drops. Is he sick? Do demons get sick? God, they really should have done more research. “Okay, come on, let’s sit you down.”

“No, I’m fine,” he protests, and yet he lets them tug him off the dance floor and into a chair.

Chel hums contemplatively as they hold the back of their hand to his forehead; he feels vaguely warm? Without thinking much about it, they remove a hand and press a kiss there instead. (Wait, shit, is that weird? Can they play it off as platonic?)

They realize all too suddenly that they don’t know shit about Normal Demon Temperatures. And on top of that, his face is getting redder, which is honestly impressive considering it was already pretty red…

“Okay, um, I’m gonna get you something to eat, and maybe flag someone down to figure out if you’re actually sick…” They bolt for the kitchen, electing to ignore Asmo’s giggle fit. Yeah, okay, they’re being obvious, no need to mock them for it.

#obey me bloggin #putting the ‘hell’ in Chellion am I right #i don't know why this happened it just. did.#not going in any of the Actual Tags because oh god the thought of being Seen #also feel free to reblog :D!

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