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everlarkficexchange · 4 years ago

Text

Magic as Always

Written by: @alliswell21

Prompt 71: Magic of Ordinary Days AU: 1940s, Katniss is a single pregnant girl. Desperate for her daughter not to have a child out of wedlock, Mrs Everdeen contacts a priest who in turn knows a young man who just may be willing to help. Sweet, kind and shy Peeta stayed home to take care of the family farm when his beloved brother went to war to never come back. He’s always wanted a family but rural small town life gives little chance to court. He hears of Katniss’ plight and graciously offers to marry her and raise the child as his own. He does everything he can think of to make a home for Katniss and the baby. How does Katniss take it? How does their relationship develop? Will they fall in love? [submitted by anonymous]

Rating: this chapter is rated Teens and Up

Tags: Historical!AU; WWII; 1940’s Era views on marriage, sexism, pregnancy, etc; Katniss/Marvel relationship; Non-graphic Unprotected Sex; Unplanned Pregnancy; Arrange Marriage; Miscellaneous Religious views; Grief/Mourning; Canon Characters Death; OOC!Mrs.Everdeen; Somewhat OOC!Katniss; Everlark is Endgame; Other tags to be added.

Notes: Thank you Anon for this prompt. I must confess, I’ve never seen the movie ‘The Magic of Ordinary Days’ or read the book the movie is based on. I did a quick skimming on the plot of the movie and then dug up all kinds of reviews on the book, most of my plot points come from a combination of movie and book (which apparently differ only in a few parts), besides what the prompter asked for. I just really loved this prompt, and see the potential of this story, which will be a few chapters long, cross posted to AO3 and I already have a good chunk written ;) The rating will be adjusted too, because there will be explicit Everlark smut in the following chapters. Anon, I hope I don’t disappoint you, this story will be only loosely based on the source material, and adapted to fit THG characters in the narrative, I will try to stick to the main plot points as much as I can, but I’m also taking several liberties with the story. I hope you still like it though.

KPKPKPKPKPKPKPKP

Prim died on a Tuesday, after a very long, strenuous battle with poliomyelitis. My sweet little sister’s face looked as fresh as a dew drop even in death.

“Come now, Katniss,” my mother calls from the open door of the mortuary hall, where visitation took place an hour ago.

The mortician has arranged for the coffin to be taken to the cemetery and put in the ground this afternoon. There will be no graveside mourning. It’s all we could pay for, but then again the war has left everyone penniless nowadays.

A big, rotund man comes to close the coffin, and offers a curt nod.

That’s it then. The very last time I’ll ever set eyes on Primrose’s sweet face.

“Katniss,” Mother whispers, insistently. It’s probably all she can muster before breaking down in tears.

I look on at the box my sister’s body lies in, numb and heartsick. I bring my 3 middle fingers to my lips and then rise them in the air. My last salute to my beloved Little Duck. I step away from the coffin and shuffle towards mother.

Up close, I can see the deep, dark bruises under my mother’s eyes. She used to be beautiful in her youth— according to friends and old photographs— but now she just looks tired and defeated. I guess having to bury first her husband and then her 15 year old daughter, in less than a year, would have that effect on anyone.

Prim would’ve looked like our mother, with their soft blonde locks, almond shaped blue eyes and alabaster skin. She had a softer spirit though, she enjoyed music and loved animals. She always said that if she was older, she would’ve joined the Red Cross and signed up to serve as a nurse to our boys in the Pacific, like Father did… Father wasn’t a nurse though, he was a chaplain.

It’s funny to think that I inherited so much of my father, like my dark hair, gray eyes and olive skin. We both also share the same aversion to human pain and blood that moves my mother and Prim to action; but unlike Prim, my father’s calling to help the soldiers in their worst situations, passed me and went directly to my baby sister.

I sigh… Prim would’ve made a terrific army nurse, if only she hadn’t wasted in bed with that odious disease! If she had been given the chance to live, I’m sure Prim would’ve had so many boys trailing after her. She would marry at some point and have a beautiful full life.

I don’t plan on marrying and having a family. If the acute pain in my own chest wasn’t enough warning, watching my mother walk silently from the funeral home to our apartment, with her head bowed and listening to her quiet sobs at night would be enough evidence that there’s too much sorrow in losing one’s husband and children.

I think my efforts will be better spent in cultivating my mind, and getting my degree in botany, like my father always dreamed, anyway… plus, I’m not much of a looker… not like Prim at any rate.

We finally arrived at our modest home. Mother drifts ghost-like into the door, and then we both shuffle quietly into our separate bedrooms. There won’t be a meal at the table tonight, but I make sure Prim’s old tomcat gets fed and watered, and after he meows in distress at my sister’s door, I open mine, and let him strut inside my bedroom and hop into my bed. The hideous fur ball and I distrust each other, but he understands his mistress is never coming back, and he’s the last thing I have from her… so he lets me pet him and he cuddles close to my chest as I fall asleep, crying.

——————————-

Mother and I walk slowly through the busy streets of town, mostly ignoring the bustle and disarray around us. People shout, cars honk horns, a baby cries in the distance, and the few young men rush back and forth in the busy sidewalks, like they’re being lashed by invisible whips.

“We should stop by the grocer and see if we can pick up some eggs.” Says my mother, pulling her “Sugar Book” out of her handbag.

Because of the war, everything is being rationed, from sugar to shoes.

I could care less about food and clothing, though. But I still go into the shop, dutifully.

I’m so immersed in my own thoughts, I don’t see the lanky man walking towards me with his arms full of vittles.

We collide. The man’s groceries fly up in every direction, raining over me, as I sit on my rump on the floor.

My mother is nowhere to be seen. Typical.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there!” Says the man, pulling a packet of oatmeal from the floor, while extending his other hand to help me up.

“No… it’s alright, I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“Well, let’s agree that we’re both klutzes, and leave it at that?” The man offers.

I’m on my feet, dusting my skirt off and righting my blouse, “Sure, let’s do that.” I scowl at the skew state of my clothes and finally look up at the man.

He’s smiling down at me, and I must admit, his smile is dazzling. He’s got short brown hair, greenish-brown eyes, and a smattering of freckles over his nose. He also towers above me.

“My stars! If it isn’t Katniss Everdeen!” The young man says, unexpectedly excited.

I blink owlishly at him, and try to place his face, but I’m horrible at remembering people. Or their names.

“Marvel Quaid,” he offers genially, unfazed by my lack of response, “we went to grade school together?” He prompts, “My pa used to sell luxury goods in District One?”

“Oh, I think it’s coming back now,” I say smiling for the first time in what feels like months. “You used to throw sticks, pretending they were spears or something,” I tell him, showing that indeed, I do remember him.

Marvel scrunches his nose, “Javelins, actually. I was pretending I threw javelins. I saw a fellow doing it for the Olympics in a film, and then he won a medal for it. I thought to myself that making a victory lap with the good old American flag flapping after oneself looked like fun; well, I wanted to be a victor too!” He chuckles, then deflates. “But as everything, those dreams are gone now, crushed to dust under the weight of the war.”

As is the norm, once the war gets brought up, gloominess settles on, dampening the cheeriest of spirits.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I’m all too familiar with the sentiment.”

Marvel nods, grimly.

“We lost Father in France.” I’m not sure why I said it. “We put my sister in the ground last week, too.” I avert my eyes.

“Aww, geez, Kit… that’s truly awful. I’m so sorry for your loss,”

I’m mildly surprised I don’t immediately recoil at his little pet name. I guess the fact that he doesn’t sound condescending while delivering his condolences, helps.

“Oh, well, as my father would’ve said, at least their toils in this world are over. They can finally rest in peace.”

After a moment of heavy silence, Marvel shares, “I’m being shipped out tomorrow morning.”

I scowl, “Oh,” I bite the inside of my cheek, wondering how he’d manage to evade the draft for this long? Marvel is my age, 19 going on 20… boys get sent to the front lines at 18. “I… I could write to you… if you wanted?” I offer shyly.

Isn’t that what young women are being told to do, in order to keep our boys’ morale from plummeting?

Marvel grins, showing slightly crooked teeth, “That would be swell, Kit!” He stares at me for a long moment, then sighs, “I should go back to my shopping, before they miss me at home. Lord knows when will I have the chance of doing something as mundane as picking up my mother’s weekly grocery allowance.”

These days it is not only uncommon seeing men doing grocery runs, but simply seeing young, able-body men around, period. All of our boys are either in Europe or the Pacific, fighting to keep the devastation of the World war from reaching our shores.

“Well, for what is worth, I hope you get to return home safely… you know, so you can do all the boring tasks your mother tells you to do. And when I say safe, I mean, I hope you don’t run anymore into spaced out girls, like me,” I smirk.

“Oh, Kit, if only you knew how much I’ve enjoyed our accidental skirmish. It’s like a gift from above, seeing you after all these years. Your smile and the color of your eyes will forever be branded in my mind, to give me a reason to fight. To have a dream,”

I’m momentarily floored by Marvel’s florid little speech. Nobody has ever said anything nearly as sweet and gallant as that to me, and for a moment, I forget all about my dead sister and father, the war, and my own sorrow.

I avert my eyes, bashfully, as he finishes picking up his vittles off the floor.

“That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” I lean over to pick up a can of milk, and put it on top of his pile.

“I only speak the truth,” he smiles brightly.

My mother chooses to interrupt at the exact moment I bat my lashes at him, “Katniss, there you are! I’ve been waiting for you by the counter.” She shakes her head.

Marvel wobbles on his feet, rearranging his load, and then greets my mother, warmly, “Mrs. Everdeen, how nice to see you again,”

My mother eyes him, unimpressed. “Good afternoon, young man,” she answers.

“Ma’am… pardon my forwardness, but, would it be too troublesome to ask Miss Katniss to accompany a soldier about to be shipped out, to supper in the town?”

My mother narrows her eyes, distrust dripping from her voice as she speaks, “I’m not so sure that’s a good idea. My daughter and I are in mourning, you see,”

“Oh, this won’t be an untoward celebration of any kind, ma’am. With the war raging on, we’re all in mourning. All I ask for is one last night of normalcy, a chance to reconnect with an old grade-school mate,” he smiles, hopefully, “For old times sake?”

I’m watching my mother’s face closely, with bated breath.

“Very well,” Mother sighs, “You may ask Katniss out to dinner. But have her home by 9 sharp!”

I don’t hesitate to step up and give him directions to my apartment building in District 12.

I spend the rest of my day giddy and nervous, pressing my best Sunday suit, the gray one with the matching jacket, and polishing my only pair of leather shoes. There isn’t much I can do about my hair… the thing can’t be fashioned into the favored waves, not even putting it in curlers overnight, so I let it be.

I briefly wonder if this was all Prim’s doing? Meeting Marvel and mother’s somewhat easy aquiciscent. Prim hated seeing me sad, and constantly talked about how she’d love to help me get ready for dates with a beau. She couldn’t wait to be of courting age and date a strapping, young man herself… but of course, that would never happen for her, but she would probably still want to see me have those things.

Maybe Marvel is right, and our serendipitous encounter is a gift from above, to heal our wounds… at least for the night.

————————-

Marvel arrives at my house in his father’s car at 5:45. Riding is now such a luxury, with gasoline being rationed and all. He takes me to a quaint little dinner in the middle of town. We share malts, a greasy burger, and a small portion of fries and onion rings.

We talk about baseball:

“You’d look good in a baseball uniform, Kit! Can you still run as fast as you did in school?”

I laugh. “I’m not much for sports,” I demure, “but I’ve heard playing in one of the new teams pays alright. Anyway, I’m gonna be starting my second year of college soon. I put my studies on hold while Prim was at her worst, but now that it’s only just me and mother… I’m anxious to go back to study.”

“Wow, beautiful and smart!”

We talk about cars:

“I loved driving… but Mother sold our car when my sister took a turn for the worse. She didn’t want to at first, saying that Father saved up to buy it, and it held sentimental value to her, but I had to push to sell it. We needed the money and gas was a nightmare to come by, anyway,”

“The only reason we still have ours,” says Marvel, “is because Pa is too stubborn to let go of the things that still made him feel wealthy.” He scowls, “He’s trying to get into the ice business now, since it’s pretty much the only thing one where the raw material is plenty and relatively cheap, and there’s guarantee that people will buy the product… everyone still needs ice for their ice boxes, right?”

No one can afford luxuries anymore with every penny going out to support our boys in the battlefields.

We talk about many other subjects: his sister’s wedding; my father’s unit getting pinned and killed by Germans… We didn’t get a body to bury, but I got a medal on his behalf as his eldest child.

Marvel lets me sniffle against his chest, and then kisses my lips slowly.

I’ve never been kissed on the lips, and I feel my face heat up.

“Would you… like to take a drive with me, Kit?”

We drive all the way to the city limit. It’s exhilarating to be in a car again, and sitting at the overlook, at twilight, alone with a handsome boy, feels positively forbidden!

I’ve never done anything remotely injudicious all my life, and this whole moment feels… magical… exciting!

Tentatively, I initiated our next kiss, but he takes over in a rush of caresses and flitting touches.

“Beautiful, graceful, Kit. You have no match!”

“Marvel…” I kiss him again, not knowing how to answer his sentiments with words.

His hands are restless, groping my shoulders and elbows. “I wished he had more time! I would’ve loved to marry you before departing. I would’ve show you so much passion and love!”

“You still can show me, Marvel… you absolutely can!”

It’s all the permission he needs to dive into a frenzy. He doesn’t stop until the deed is done, and we’re a sweaty, tangled mess of limbs in the back seat of the car, only partially clothed.

A deep feeling of lethargy pours over me. My muscles are sore and heavy, and wished I could fall asleep in here.

“I intend on coming back to marry you, Katniss,” Marvel says, stretching his lanky, long legs to zip up his pants.

I sit up and start finger-combing my ruined hair, hoping my mother won’t notice the strands are extra frizzy. “Um… I guess we should after this,” I say shyly, gesturing between us.

“You could still go to college while I’m away,” he offers with magnanimity.

“You… wouldn’t mind that?” I ask incredulous, college women are so rare, unless they’re trying to become nurses or teachers. Most girls start courting right after high school and get married in the span of one to two years, and their husbands don’t normally encourage an education beyond what their wives came into the marriage with; so to hear Marvel say that wouldn’t mi d me stay in college is just about the greatest thing possible!

“My darling, Kit, I don’t want you to be one of those girls pining and wasting away for her beau. I’ll be busy at war, it’ll be unfair to keep you from occupying your own time while you wait fir my return. Go to college, my clever girl!”

I smile indulgently at him, leaning closer to slip his necktie around the collar of his shirt, “You are truly a generous, loving man,” I say.

Marvel beams, circling my waist with his arms pulling me against his body. “It’s all inspired by you, sugar plum!”

I giggle, kissing his cheek, “I’ll write to you every day!” I promise.

“That’s nice… but just so you know, I might not be able to write back right away. It’ll be a while before I get settled enough to write. But you’ll be in my thoughts every minute of every day, and that’s the honest truth! I’m serious about marrying you when I return, Kit,” he kisses me again. And then, he looks at his watch, sighing. “It’s 8:32. We should get on going, gotta keep in my future mother-in-law’s good graces!”

We share a carefree laugh, and finish tidying ourselves up to drive back to my house.

He walks me to the door, takes me in his arms, and kisses me passionately before promising he’d be back to officially ask for my hand in marriage, and for my part, I swear I’ll write to him every day until he returns home safe and sound.

But neither of us keeps our promises in the end, although I tried.

————————-

Three weeks go by and I keep my word of writing daily letters. I receive no word in return from Marvel, but think nothing of it… Europe is far and traveling by sea is tedious and time consuming; Marvel will get in touch once he’s settled down.

Another week goes by, still without news from my would-be fiancé. I still don’t worry. I’ve been busy with university, and the few other girls attending school with me keep me busy, but my heavier workload is starting to get to me.

I’m usually so tired and moody after school that socializing with my classmates becomes a chore. I barely eat supper before I’m passing out in bed, and my letters to Marvel start to get shorter and simpler with every passing day.

I skip writing one afternoon altogether, and take a long nap. Buttercup— Prim’s ugly cat— perches on my bed like a sentinel to watch me sleep. I believe he’s worried about me… stupid, clingy cat thinks I’m sick.

But the feline’s intuition proves right, because just two days later, I shoot out of bed and run into the washroom to spill every last ounce of last night supper into the toilet. I must’ve caught a bug or something!

I feel queasy and lightheaded every morning after. My appetite wanes and it seems my delicate stomach can only tolerate pears, and broth.

I visit the post office to place out my letters to Marvel almost everyday; Every time I come, the nice old mailman comments on how sweet it is to see all the young-uns holding romance strong. Marvel has yet to respond to one of my letters, so I just smile tightly and demure.

I’ve been thinking though; the longer I go without news of my supposed future husband, and despite the whirlwind night of romance with him, I start questioning my actions, my promises. I never wanted to marry before, and suddenly I was okay getting a hasty, unofficial engagement with a virtual stranger, I barely remember from grade school… maybe it’s better if Marvel never writes.

My plans on earning a college degree and finding a well paying job will go unencumbered— I’m aware women in prominent working professions are as rare as snow in July, but women’s presence in the working forces keep growing as industries need laborers to keep up producing while the men fight in the war. Educated women are almost becoming less rare.

At the two month mark since I last saw Marvel, I become weepier than usual… is to be expected in my opinion; Prim’s been gone for a little over two months and she was the only person I knew I loved. But now I’m worrying about my health on top of everything.

One morning, while I’m kneeling on the cold, hard floor in front of the toilet, feeling miserable and tired, my mother calls my name from the open door.

“Katniss, I think it’s time to get a test.” She states evenly, and then enters the room to fetch a damp washcloth to wipe my face clean. “I hope I’m wrong, but I’m afraid you may be with child,” she sighs.

I squirm. “No,” I gasp. “I— I can’t be with child. I just can’t!” But the thought has crossed my mind a few times already. “It’s not supposed to be this way!”

“I know, child,” My mother pats my head, “there’s only one way to know. Get dressed for the day, I will call the most discreet physician I know, and have him pay us a visit.”

————————-

Doctor Aurelius— a physician my mother has helped deliver babies and treat maladies with— confirms the pregnancy with a grim face.

I sit at my kitchen table numb and despondent. My mother writes a check to the doctor for his services, while talking in no so hush tones in the other room. I listen to their whole conversation, as if submerged in water.

“I blame myself for this, doctor. I should have kept a closer eye on her,”

“Don’t blame yourself Ms. Everdeen, it’s that war business bringing out all sorts of evil into the world! It’s unfortunate the rise of these cases in our community. Young ladies— from good families!— engaging in acts ought to be saved for marriage. Youth do things without thinking, guided by fear. Our boys fear they may not return from that senseless, awful war, and settle down properly, and I don’t blame them one little bit.”

“The only solace I have right now, is that my poor husband is not here to see the shame that’s fallen over our family,”

“I understand the sentiment, ma’am. There’s no telling how Preacher Everdeen would’ve taken this blow. But I’m sure things will work out as soon as young Katniss hears from the father…”

I dissolve into silent tears then. My mother escorts the doctor to the door and then there’s silence.

My pinky finger curls into the soft fabric of the table cloth, and I try to ignore the urge to vomit boiling in my stomach. There’s one thought circling mi mind: my college days are over.

——————————-

“Ah! Miss Everdeen, I have something for you.” Says the mailman as soon as I reach the desk. He smiles, but rather sadly, like he’s about to give me bad news.

I’ve come to the post office with urgent letters every day for 6 days, and he’s never looked at me this way.

The old man digs around for a moment and almost reluctantly, passes a parcel tied up in twine. An envelope is attached to the top of the parcel, and with a sinking feeling, I realized it’s a stack of my own letters.

“It came in today, miss.” Says the man, voice laced with pity. “Sorry for your loss.” He says.

At first I don’t understand what he could possibly mean by that; he’s offered his sympathies fir my dead father and sister already; it makes absolutely no sense to repeat himself randomly after so long.

Then it hits me like a ton of bricks.

I gasp, and press the parcel to my chest. “Oh no! Marvel!” I whisper. I give the man a hasty wave, thanking him, and rush out of the post office like mad.

Tears run down my cheeks, while I dash home, imagining the worst. “Poor, Marvel!” Is all I can think.

“Katniss, what’s wrong?” My mother calls, alarmed, when I rush to my bedroom, sobbing. She follows me in, and watches me tear into the envelope at the top of the stack.

I frown in confusion when I’m met with handwritten, chicken-scratch scrawl, instead of a formal missive typed in official US military stationary.

My scowl deepens as my eyes rove over the flowery vocabulary, and then I screech, “What?!”

“Katniss, what’s going on?”

I ignore my mother when she approaches to read over my shoulder; I step around her, shaking the piece of paper in my hands and stand by the window, as if sunlight will make the words change their meaning.

I smooth the creases and folds on the page over, and read out loud, “Dearest Kit, sorry it took so long to write, it’s been a wild time since we arrived and finding time to correspond with everyone back home it’s been hard.

“At times, your letters have been the sole source of light and hope in the darkness of this conflict. Is for that reason, and with a heavy heart, that I must come clean to you now. I truly meant it when I swore to come back and make you my wife, but as the Good Book says, the Lord works in mysterious ways, and love has sprouted out the most unlikely place! Kit, I’ve fallen in love and married a lovely gal here in England…”

I stop reading. He goes on talking about the why and how, but I sincerely don’t care.

“That good for nothing, virtue dasher, future crushing… liar!” My mother bleats to the ceiling, raising her palms over her head, dramatically.

I’m angry too, of course. I feel used and disposed of like a dirty rag, but my mother’s reaction is borderline hilarious. Except, it isn’t.

I’m pregnant, unmarried, and soon— once my still flat stomach starts rounding— I’ll be socially ostracized for my condition. My only saving grace was the promise of marriage that bastard Marvel had given me. But that’s gone now.

“I knew that boy was bad news the second I laid eyes on him! He never even introduced himself to me, the little weasel! This is my fault. My fault! I should’ve never allowed you to run amok with the likes of him…”

“Mother, will you please?” I nearly growl, gesturing at the open bedroom door.

She stares at me uncomprehendingly for a moment, before pursing her lips in disapproval, and stalking out of the room muttering her aggravation under her breath.

I sink into my bed with Marvel’s stupid letter crumpling in my fist. A single, hot, angry tear rolls down my face, and for the first time since finding out of its existence, I hug my midsection and address my child, “I’m so sorry for dragging you into this mess. I know you didn’t ask for a mother like me, but I’m all you got now, little one. I promise we will be alright… I’ll try not to let you down.”

———————-

My mother has been unbearable for the last two days. She cries in her room worse than when Prim died, and when she sees me, she starts lamenting my poor choice, like I’m not even standing there… as if I don’t feel discouraged enough.

I keep myself busy with my education. I will need to earn this diploma now more than ever before, and I need to do as much as I can before the baby arrives and my studies get put on hold.

In the meantime, I scout the newspapers for possible work options to sustain me and my mother. Our savings keep diminishing and the small stipend my mother got from the Army since my father passed away is becoming more insufficient by the day.

There’s a knock on the front door, and I push out my chair unhappy by the interruption.

“Afternoon Miss Katniss! Would you let your mother know she’s got a telephone call down in the lobby?” Says the building’s doorkeeper.

“Of course, thank you. She’ll be right down!”

Telephones are yet another luxury we had to give up when moved to this small place after losing my father.

I go back to my job hunt, and my mother descends to the lobby, quickly.

She returns after only 10 minutes, almost running through the door, excitedly calling my name. Tears wet her face, but her smile is so blinding, even without knowing what sort of news she’s heard to cause her such joy, I stand from the table with nervous anticipation.

“Oh, Katniss! Katniss my dear daughter, you’re saved!” She exclaims, hugging me tightly.

I’m confused. I step away from her embrace, “What do you mean?”

“It’s the best thing possible ever, I tell you! The Lord has answered all of my prayers!”

“This is all so exciting and all, mother, but… could you please share this great news already?”

My mother cups my face in her hands, and beams at me, “You need to pack your things, darling! Your father’s good friend, Reverend Undersee, has found a husband, and you are to wed, in three days time!”

—————————

Reverend Undersee and his daughter, Madge, meet me and my mother at the rinky dink bus station, in the equally tiny town my mother has banished me to.

“Katniss! How long has it been?” Says Madge, hugging me enthusiastically.

I bite my tongue to keep the acidic retort of “not long enough!” to leave my mouth.

“Welcome to Panem,” says the reverend, soberly, shaking my mother’s hand in greeting.

“Thank you, revered. We appreciate your hospitality and your understanding,” my mother responds, then gives me a pointed look and a wordless command.

I nod and mutter, “Thank you, sir. Madge,”

I scowl at a crack in the pavement, not feeling an iota of gratefulness for this charade!

Any man agreeing to this questionable union has to either be desperate, or be hiding terrible, ulterior motives to go along with all of this. Nobody in their right mind would willingly marry a girl pregnant with another man’s baby, and be happy about it… unless that’s the reason!

I shudder at the thought.

But it is a very real possibility that my intended is a simpleton, who can’t find a wife otherwise… or worse! It could be a man very advanced in age, looking for a supple, young body to leech off. Gross!

My mother had been too excited about the news that a man offered to marry me (as if I asked for, or even wanted a husband!) to bother to ask his name.

Reverend Undersee coughs daintily, clears his throat, and starts, like he’s giving a lecture at the university. “It is our Christian duty to lend a helping hand to widows and orphans in their time of needs. Same way it’s our duty to keep the memory and honor of an old friend from being dragged into the mud.”

I wince at the harsh words, and let my face fall lower, if that’s even possible.

“Well, it’s a good thing that we are all recipients of the abundant grace of the Lord, which covers multitude of faults, and it’s never hard to reach,” a deep, velvety, masculine voice cuts into my embarrassment.

I lift my eyes from the ground, to find a man striding confidently in our direction. He smiles kindly at me, his eyes fixed on my own, like I’m the only person still standing in the station.

He finally cedes our staring contest, to take in the rest of the group.

A knot forms in the pit of my stomach, because I recognize him from years past when my family used to visit this town, and I’m afraid I know exactly why he’s here.

“Good afternoon, all. I apologize for my tardiness, I had a last second detail to take care of before leaving the house,” he nods in our general direction, taking his hat off; a riot of ashy blonde curls falls onto his forehead, before bending forward to shake my mother’s hand, “I’m Peeta Mellark, at your service, ma’am. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Likewise, mister Mellark,” says my mother, her lips twitch tersely, “Widow Everdeen, and this here is my daughter Katniss… your bride.”

Peeta Mellark’s baby blue eyes slip back to mine, and the left side corner of lips curls into a shy, earnest smile. “Welcome to Panem, Katniss, I’ll sure do my best, so you’d like it here.”

#alliswell21 #prompt 71 #Springtime Edition 2021 #submission

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redstaratmorning · 4 years ago

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Amnesia: The Dark Descent - Astarion

Ahoy there me hearties! It is time to embark on yet another long voyage into the seas of discovery and character exploration, to fill in the details of the blank map with speculation and musings alongside the occasional sea serpent drawing! Tonight we are once more focused on Astarion from Baldur’s Gate 3, and we set sail with navigation logs that include Scents And Sensibilities, or more specifically how both taste and smell might impact Astarion as a vampire and his perception of the world. The second major topic of speculation would be the one that gave this post its title: amnesia possibilities with speculations on the influence of torture and starvation for induced memory loss. This is of course all speculation based on early access content, so beware of spoilers upon the horizon! Content warnings include discussion of food items, consumption of food, consumption of rotting food, graphic descriptions, maggots, insects, emetophobia, vampirism, blood, dark backstories, abuse, torture, horror, and other themes typical of the Baldur’s Gate 3 setting. Spoilers for both Baldur’s Gate 3 and some spoilers for Amnesia: The Dark Descent and Amnesia: Justine included. Google story details of the Amnesia series at your own risk, these tags are intended to be reflective solely of mentioned elements in this essay, not of all potentially disturbing content in those games.

So with the starting fact of how closely the senses of taste and smell are in real life, what does this mean for Astarion and other vampires in DND when it comes to how things smell versus how they taste? Referencing another of Pjenn’s fine posts regarding everyone’s favorite local vampire spawn, Astarion has a line regarding consuming a treacle tart from Auntie Ethel’s cottage: “Hell’s teeth! Was solid food always so foul?” [click here for a link to said post] Now this could just be because Auntie Ethel is a hag and cooks horrible food, and according to tumblr there are poisonous apples to be found at her place as well. [Alas no post citation to confirm the poisonous apples.] If Astarion’s reaction isn’t due to Ethel being a terrible cook, and is more to do with the fact that he’s a vampire, then that’s a horse of a different color. Presumably, through speculation based on his surprise and lack of disgust prior to consumption of foodstuffs, standard humanoid foods likely still smell or at least smell similar to how they used to smell to him when he was alive. An apple still smells like an apple, as it were. It may just be that instead of Astarion feeling hunger at the smell of an apple, it might be more akin to smelling pleasant like apple-scented perfume or such though for him...curiously, that would suggest that he did not try or more likely could not try to eat anything of the sort under Cazador’s rule. On that note, it would be a certain flavor of tragedy for regular humanoid foods to still smell appetizing and edible to Astarion but taste like ash in his mouth, or worse. But how does food fit for vampires smell to Astarion? Namely, blood, of course. Though one might wonder at rare steak or other cuts of meat still bloody to the taste—could he eat beef tartare and enjoy it, for example? Sashimi or other raw seafood? That’s straying into headcanon territory though. Back on topic, in the one camp scene where everyone is feeling ill with the beginning sensations of ceremorphosis, he mentions “I can smell the blood in your mouth” on one dialogue branch. It could be that the two are standing awfully close together while discussing matters, and/or the MC’s bleeding a pretty significant amount and the scent is quite noticeable, or Astarion’s got a pretty keen sense of smell, or a combination of the above. It probably smells pretty good if it tastes as good as Astarion’s reactions and comments would strongly suggest, and if we’re going to go wild with fun fantastical interpretations, I’d put forth the idea of Astarion being able to smell the difference between different people’s (or animals’) blood at close range. If Larian puts the following datamined not-present-in-game-yet scene in, the former idea would tie in very nicely with how Astarion speculates on how the different companions’ blood might taste, from this datamined text post once again kindly provided by Pjenn. [click here for text post link, bottommost “tastingparty” section] Transcription of some of the possible lines in question (not in the game at time of writing, and possibly may not appear in the final game): “Take Gale, for example. He strikes me as someone whose blood is rich, refined like a well-aged brandy.” “Take Wyll, for example. A man of the people, very palatable, like a sweet cider.” Above lines chosen for their more descriptive wording, thus why the other party members (both current and future as of this time of writing) are not added in the above examples. Astarion is quite colorful in his descriptions of how he thinks some of the companions’ blood would taste, based off of their personalities. So what does everyone’s various MCs’ blood taste like? There could be delightful variety based on the details of the various MCs’ personalities and personal life histories, I’ve seen some explorations on the dash here and there which is delightful, and I’d shan’t say no to seeing more. It is a beautiful opportunity for character exploration regarding the MC, Astarion’s perception of them, the reality of who they are (and perhaps Astarion shifting said perception of them), and all around a great potential moment to have some fun writing descriptive prose if one is so inclined. One internet search later, I will say that it appears that reddit and other google search sources do seem to suggest that in real life the blood from various different species of animals looks and tastes different from one another, even without going into factors such as age and health’s impact on blood. If we as normal humans are able to tell the difference in that, it seems reasonable to think Astarion would be able to do that and more with supernatural augmentation as the basis for that line of thinking. What do people smell like to him? Different from one another one might suppose. Is that part of what informs his imaginings and wonderings about how their companions’ blood might taste? Individuals tend to smell unique to some degree, due to body chemistry among other factors. One would expect blood to be a factor in that, seeing as that’s how many hormones and such get sent about the circulatory system—which might mean Astarion (and our potential future weregnome companion) may have more of a time having to deal with the whole party foregoing soap for better or for worse, unless Gale or Shadowheart have a Summon/Conjure Soap spell, or perhaps the MC is a ranger who can find a soap plant. Not a great time to have a sensitive nose potentially, though foregoing soap and thus additional layered scents like floral infusions and such might be beneficial. One can only imagine hunting might turn out better for the entire party’s dinner-scrounging efforts by not alerting the local wildlife that there’s someone about who smells like a potpourri bowl...though that’s another idea, does Astarion volunteer to go hunting moreso for the party in order to be able to drain blood from the kills? One would bleed and gut a carcass anyway as part of the processing, so who would know if he drank it dry versus bled it out with a knife from a tree? Moving on though, imagine what it must’ve been like the first time after he rose up from being turned and he smelled another living person’s blood, only to feel his mouth suddenly start watering. Was he confused? Repulsed? Horrified? Startled, but accepting? There’s potential ripe for the picking to interpret that in any number of ways, including conflicted and complicated in multiple directions all at once, which his actions and emotional depictions might suggest so far in early access. Imagine the torment of being ravenous every night—and I am personally impressed that Astarion actually can keep his mental faculties and presentation together well enough to seduce someone given potential speculation of his physical state,—and knowing only a meager portion of the most putrid, rotting rat flesh awaited him back at Cazador’s mansion, while he had to interact and seduce with people who smelled just so good to his vampiric senses. Consider the added twist of the knife in Cazador’s torment of Astarion with the fact that one can consider saliva to be filtered blood��if one headcanons Astarion as actually being quite physical with his seduction up to and including kissing of any kind. Consider also, the fact that if Astarion has shared a kiss with one of the unfortunate victims-to-be, he might have more of an idea of what they might taste like but must also now sit and SMELL their fresh-spilled blood right from the vein, right there in front of him, and watch while Cazador enjoys his own supper, while being forced to down a disgusting rotting carcass under threat of punishment. [in-post content warning: Graphic description of rotting dead rat carcass, food, maggots, etc in the next paragraph] Did Astarion throw up the first several times? Cazador would’ve surely punished him for so “rudely” rejecting a dinner all set out especially for Astarion and everything. To get to the point where one can consume let alone look at and smell a plate of rotting food,—specifically a dead rat with the fur still attached, the guts bloating up and putrifying from within, that very well might have live, wriggling maggots in it,—and not vomit? It must be one hell of a potent cocktail mix between primal hunger-driven desperation and fear of punishment applied over a prolonged period of time for Astarion to actually be able to consume that, let alone look upon it. This essay by the by will not be doing any in-depth exploration of the overarching situation relating to the victims’ point of view, as I feel that’s been implied in previous meta posts by both myself and others on Astarion, in the “Clearly The Other Victims Have It Bad Too And No One Deserves To Suffer Cazador” thread of implications. We are however acknowledging that all of this experience for everyone else, aside from Cazador, is Fucked Up And Very Very Bad. Continuing past acknowledgements of the large moral cluster of ideas over yonder, let us move forward into the “present” time when Astarion has joined the party, and no one is as of yet aware that he is a vampire. Consider the scenario where he can smell their individual scents, but it’s nothing he hasn’t handled before, even if he seems to be...curiously free of the immediate need to get back to Cazador right away, while still wrapping his head around this bizarre new reality of walking in the sun. The inescapable reality of how different everything looks bathed in the all encompassing colors of sunlight, compared to moonlight and lantern light. Be it the blinding yellow, white, and blue of the noon time sun, or the violent golds, oranges, reds clashing against the violently deep blue shadows of night’s approach during the fall of twilight, or the brilliant and mellow pale grandeur of all the world’s color coming to life as the dawn breaks forth...it has been so long since last he saw any of that. Do you think he sat up specifically to watch that first dawn, while the other companions slept? It’s a beautiful thought. But I would follow that with the unfortunate potential consideration that he is starving—and when hunger eats away at one’s mind for long enough and in a demanding enough fashion, it can be remarkably difficult for a person to feel much of anything save very faint echoes of emotions or on the other extreme end only the strongest emotions, and more often than not those emotions are very likely to be the negative ones. Just about nobody’s happy when they’re starving after all. Astarion may very well feel awe at seeing the dawn again, but how deep does that feeling go, when instinct is screaming and gnawing at his very bones to insist that he is hungry? Famished. Starving. Appreciation for beauty is a privilege that is hard to enjoy at all in any degree of depth when the basic needs are wailing inside one’s head so loudly. And he can smell his companions’ blood, even when they’re not bleeding. He has also smelled their blood spill out into the open air too, during fighting. How does that eat at him, how does that sharpen his appetite so? Does it make his stomach twist in pain to smell what his senses are clamoring for and labeling as food so close, so near, as he slowly loses his mind waiting all day for the party to break camp so he can try to slip away and hunt? Does he catch anything? He does find some animals canonically in some encounters, but there is no guarantee he will find enough without expending strenuous effort, assuming he finds anything at all on a given night. And his luck does run out eventually it would seem. One night he just doesn’t have any reserves left in him to go hunt down another animal, to take another gamble that’s stacked even higher against him with how badly off he is. Does he feel an uncomfortable chill set in, cooling his blood and rendering his flesh even colder than his normally low body temperature standards as his undead form slips just a little bit closer to a semblance of true death, whether or not he can starve to death as a vampire? Do his hands shake? Can he think at all as thoughts fade in and out from hunger-induced weakness? Can he think through the haze of sensation and awareness if he breathes in through his nose, his open mouth, inhaling a lungful of the smell and taste of living blood right there? The smells that he’s grown familiar with over these last few days? The companion origin for Astarion definitely seems to spin it towards needing to know if he can resist Cazador’s orders now, but consider this thought: imagine the progression of realization that Astarion might have as he considers the idea that he could resist Cazador’s rules, with the lack of magical-compulsion to return to Cazador’s side right away. That if Astarion himself is no longer bound by those supernatural, unyielding, magically-enforced laws, he can also drink the blood of thinking creatures. He can drink the blood of people. He can drink the blood that he’s been smelling the enticing scents of this entire time. The blood that is right. There. And he is starving. Imagine how that must feel, that pupil-dilating moment of realization as muscles tense and the next breath comes in as a sharp inhale at the instantaneous, primal understanding that you can have food, real food, good food, right then and there when you feel like you’re dying for something, anything to stop the hunger from eating you alive from the inside out. And all you have to do, is take it. Humans in real life can potentially have very predatory responses to hunger at times, especially when it comes to hunting down prey animals, and when it comes to spotting an easy meal when one is working on empty reserves. Imagine how that can scale up for a vampire...and for Astarion, this is the first time he’s been free to actually choose to act on those instincts. Cazador’s rules have always been the backbone holding him in place as surely as the mindflayer prison pods kept everyone well and truly trapped—until our merry lot was broken free. Now though? The only thing standing between Astarion and his sleeping, delicious-smelling companions’ blood, is his own will and choice. That has to be equal parts exhilarating and terrifying. He’s never been free like this—free, with vampiric needs clamouring for his attention. Free, as a vampire, spawn or otherwise. But does he want to? I would actually suspect he feels conflicted about that on multiple levels, given a possible line Auntie Ethel might say should you fight her. ”You’re one thirsty night away from betraying everyone!” [One of Auntie Ethel’s taunts when using Vicious Mockery during her potential fight, linked here in astarions-ears’s post.] On the one hand: the power to take what he wants, what he needs, is at his fingertips. Much like how the power of the tadpole is. It could help him protect himself, be stronger, do whatever he wants...just like the tadpole power. This whole situation is a mess of temptation in the long term for Astarion in so many ways. On the other hand though...I suspect based on that line from Ethel above, assuming it makes it into the final version of the game, given that it’s used during a casting of Vicious Mockery, I would say there’s fair grounds to assume Astarion does have at least reservations about betraying the party, at the very least with the hesitation given rise from self-serving desires such as wanting to have a group of people in his corner. I would say though, it wouldn’t cut so deep, and wouldn’t be so vicious a mockery, if he didn’t care that it was betrayal. I think it safe to say that if he truly didn’t care in some shape or form, Ethel would’ve ended up mocking some other aspect of Astarion’s personality or insecurities, likely something along the lines that everything he does is futile as he will still end up killed or enslaved by either Cazador or others (such as the party and MC having so much sway over his life and choices), rather than needling him about betrayal of all things. Another reservation he might have from lack of experience is that he’s never hunted other people for his own food before. He might never have hunted for someone personally of his own free will before this point, either. That little nuance could be a hook on which he hangs onto for dear life—or unlife—in order to keep what remains of his perceived identity. Who does he want to be, and among those details, what must he be, in order to survive? What can he avoid doing? Does he want to be what he perceives as a monster? Is he hoping not to become a monster, to validate that he isn’t one already, based on his conversation after you catch him trying to steal some of the MC’s blood? “I’m not some monster!” There’s also the line from the post-Raphael first meeting, “If I keep the tadpole, I risk turning into a monster.” which all seem to imply that Astarion draws a line between what he thinks is and isn’t monstrous, much like in the first meeting with Astarion where if you tell him about the tadpole, he laughs bitterly and goes, “Of course it’ll turn me into a monster.” Isn’t that an interesting turn of phrase? It implies so much fertile ground for speculating on what he thinks of both his own vampirism, and what precisely makes someone or something a monster. The MC has come into Astarion’s life at such a fascinatingly crucial point in time, beyond just Astarion’s sudden new freedom, however fragile, from Cazador. Because of that freedom, this is also the time of exploration and self-definition for Astarion to decide who he is, and who he will be, a coming-of-age if you will, which is hysterically ironic and well-played by Larian Studios in my opinion given that he is almost assuredly going to be the chronologically oldest member of the main party. This dovetails so very neatly into the MC’s already obvious potential influence on how Astarion views his condition, other people, the world around him, his own self and morality...it’s really just so rife with potential. This particular part is nothing too new, just added detail and layering on top of previous musings in past posts, but there are elements of interest to examine I think. Personally, I was inclined to guess Astarion as being older, even as elves go, based largely on the fine lines one can see upon his face when he’s emoting, some elements of his attitude and dialogue—(“A fine effort, but I’ve seen it all. I was walking this land while your ancestors were learning to crawl.” - said if you fail a skill check during his recruitment scuffle)—but looking at some of these other elements has me reconsidering that. Perhaps he was more on the young adult side of the elven age range, rather than middle aged prior to being turned? If he can retain scars as a vampire under the living conditions Cazador subjected him to, perhaps he also has stress-related aging tells, since it seems from other DND materials (Curse of Strahd I believe has a vampire locked in a basement that’s largely starved of blood if I recall correctly? I am uncertain of the details regarding the situation unfortunately) that vampires can at least show physical deterioration when it comes to being starved for blood. It would be an entertaining take in my personal opinion to see an older character having a coming-of-age growth type arc, since those are almost always strongly associated with a relatively narrow range of ages from teenaged-to-middle-twenties-ish protagonists and characters. Whichever way Larian goes with it though, it is looking quite promising just based on the overall quality of the various game elements so far. To build on that possible theme interpretation though, there is another element that I think ties into Astarion’s uncertain age as well—how much he remembers of his life before Cazador, and how much life there was to remember to begin with. One might generally presume that the older a character is, the more time they’ve had and thus more opportunity to learn, to be exposed to life experiences, to garner wisdom. Often, this also tends towards a certain amount of cementing of a person’s outlook, personality, and other core traits along with potential varying levels of self-awareness regarding those elements. It goes without saying that people do still change sometimes dramatically other times gradually over the course of their lives, but typically the more easily-influenced vibes commonly go with younger and/or more naive character builds, though not always of course. Without addressing significant or otherwise notable exceptions, specific nuances or variations though, there is something of a vague expectation and template starting-base that older characters and personalities are typically more “put together”, “collected”, and less likely to be outright mutable. Astarion though? As a character in an RPG that is built upon the foundations of choices, in a DND world where choice IS the defining feature in both character expression and storytelling? His core will remain as himself I’m sure, but by the very nature of the game attempting to make this an enjoyable experience for the audience, odds are very good that Astarion will be heavily influenced in his outlook into a set number of branched endings based on what the MC chooses to say and do. But I have some potential suspicions now that Astarion might actually be a touch more malleable in some parts of his outlook and manner beyond the influence of just the aforementioned elements above. Consider the following lines Astarion currently has in Early Access, including one mentioned previously: “Hell’s teeth! Was solid food always so foul?” [Said in the previously posted link above when eating a treacle tart for presumably the first time, stolen from Auntie Ethel’s before illusion is lifted.] “I’ve seen so little of the world. Still, there’s time now.” [Looking at a globe, post linked here, from Pjenn’s blog] “I haven’t spent much time with helpless old ladies. Was that normal?” [If you kill Mayrina’s brothers and Auntie Ethel disappears into thin air. Video from Danaduchy on youtube linked here] “Probably wise. No one gets that old and crooked playing by the rules.” [Same conversation as above mentioned in the video regarding Auntie Ethel if the second option “I’m not sure. We should watch ourselves around her.” is chosen in response to Astarion’s question.] While one could certainly retain youthful or what one might call immature or dramatic inclinations even through to one’s golden years, I am on the fence on how far Astarion’s presentation is strictly personality-based versus influenced by a possible lack of diverse life experiences. Nature versus nurture, as it were. The first of the above quotes seem to suggest he hasn’t done much traveling, and may have some wanderlust in him (potentially hinting at moon elf wanderlust leanings?), but then why wasn’t he out traveling? Why did he become a magistrate? There is much life to be lived in great depth and diversity when one stays in one place, true. But we really know so little about Astarion’s past before Cazador, all in all, and that intriguingly puts him back in step with most of the other companions at this point of backstory reveal, I’d say. If we include Cazador’s influence, I’d say we’ve seen quite a bit more of his story than most of the others because there’s a lot more visibility and immediately-threatening emotional tension in his story, even when compared to Gale’s, surprisingly, followed by Wyll’s, Shadowheart’s, and then Lae’zel’s as of what I personally have seen of their stories (my knowledge may be lacking, even as far as Early Access content goes.) To be fair though, Astarion is the one who thus far shows the most visible, dramatic expressions of fear and trauma regarding his backstory than all the rest, so that would be a major factor as to why it feels like we’ve seen more of his tale, among other factors. Regarding life experiences within a more geographically limited area though—that puts some of Astarion’s comments as even more markedly odd to me. Specifically those comments of his after Auntie Ethel poofs away into thin air, should the party slay Mayrina’s brothers for Ethel, “I haven’t spent much time with helpless old ladies.” Perhaps his specification is the helpless part, but even if he was spending time with powerful old ladies, who asks “is it normal for the elderly to disappear into thin air like that?” He must have met some older people, ladies included, as Baldur’s Gate is not a strictly elven city, according to the wiki its demographics are mostly human but widely diverse. [Link to wiki page here.] This is especially strange if he’s of a noble background and was ostensibly working with other government officials, one would expect a range of ages with plenty of older individuals present both in his work and social circles, even if only in passing. That’s just not adding up, especially if it’s a genuine question, which his expressions and tone of voice during his inquiry in addition to his responses afterwards to the MC’s various dialogue options all seem to suggest if not confirm. If that question was coming from a young character who hasn’t seen the world, one would assume they were just incredibly sheltered. What does it mean coming from Astarion? What’s even stranger is that Astarion is the one who baits the MC into a trap using a similar disception upon meeting—”Hurry, I’ve got one of those brain things cornered!” One would think Astarion would recognize a ruse like that as one of the oldest tricks in the book: pretend to be helpless to get someone else to do the dirty work for you. Such a trick often is pulled off well especially when the pretender is either a) pretty/handsome, b) innocent looking (young or otherwise), c) dressed in a uniform or clothes that have helpful connotations for snap judgements in one’s favor (e.g. wearing good-aligned clergy garments), d) helpless looking (young, old, specific subgroups depending on culture, disabled, etc), or has other elements to their advantage there. If Astarion doesn’t recognize that particular ruse, which he doesn’t seem to, that has additional implications going on for him. If he did recognize the ruse, one would expect his reaction to be much more in line with Shadowheart’s. If he recognized it and was hiding it, one would think he wouldn’t want to play stupid, if only for pride’s sake—for all that Astarion has done things that have unquestionably humbled him, his penchant for verbal wit and criticism (various insults aimed at the MC and others regarding their intellect/stupidity) and touchy ego makes playing stupid seem like a very emotionally taxing and potentially painful thing for him to do, and thus not worth the mental/emotional effort in what looks like a very low-stakes situation. He seems too impulsive and reactive to be planning out a long-term con of hiding his intelligence, he makes far too many quips to pull that off at this point. Assuming Astarion does indeed not recognize the ruse beforehand, some of the possible implications for that could speculate on his overall awareness of his techniques when it comes to deception and manipulation. He definitely can spot it on occasion based on a narrated internal monologue line presumably from his origin— *I gave her a hard look. Never play a player.* [Linked to the audio of this line here from scionsandsinners’s blog] That he spots it in the potential origin line above, but presumably not with Auntie Ethel, might suggest that his experience is likely limited to within certain restricted lanes of behavior, likely seduction were one to guess based on what we know of his backstory and some datamined emotional directions/descriptions for voice acting, along with speculation based on his in-game behavior and demeanor. That would potentially push him moreso towards appearing when being manipulative to be doing so out of either self-perceived need (e.g. defending personal interests, inquiring after information of interest, etc), learned response, social norms, and other short term motivations that are more situational than long-term planning. I admit I’m still personally not of the opinion he’s playing a long-term game, and is playing it by ear as he goes—both honestly and not-so-honestly, as mentioned in previous posts on the subject. [Mentioned past essay post of mine linked here] In regards to short-term machinations, I think they’re all largely emotion or survival driven, as far as we’ve seen. I would include the voice acting direction for the romance scene where it’s noted that this is a power game for Astarion and that he’s an old hand at seducing others. Specifically from the synopsis: “For Astarion, this is a game of power - one he’s played many times before in the taverns of Baldur’s Gate, trying to lure people back to his master. He’s an old hand at seduction, very self-assured at first, but the player might not go along with the script he expects them to follow.” [Link to Pjenn’s post here.] I’ve seen intriguing, angsty, and fun takes on what this might mean all around tumblr, so allow me to offer up an additional one that might either compliment some of the already circulating pre-existing ones, or stand on its own depending on personal preference. Consider what power means to Astarion in the context of seducing someone specifically when it’s to lure them back to Cazador’s mansion under orders. It truly isn’t power in the sense of anything one might consider meaningful even under broad definitions. It’s a short-term deception, appealing to someone enough to get them to do what he wants for a short time, likely just enough time to flirt and then bait them back to Cazador’s estate (we’ll be skipping over speculation of anything else Astarion and company might get up to between point A and point B in this essay for simplicity’s sake, though there is much to consider on how it might impact his behavior and outlook there.) One of the specific words of interest I would say is the use of “script” in there. I’m sure others can hear it too when they listen to his dialogue during the party romance scene, but it really does sound like he’s putting on a tried-and-true act that might come across as a little over the top in romantic-dramatic-flair. One potential inference that can be gleaned from this might be some of Astarion’s expectations regarding how people perceive him, and most specifically how people perceive him in a desirous way. I will admit, Astarion’s romance scene makes me laugh, I'm impressed he and the MC both can avoid laughing at his lines in-scene, no disrespect intended. To me, he sounds like he ripped those lines straight out of a torrid romance novel, the kind where women might have a momentary description of heaving, delicate bosoms barely constrained by their bodice laces, while the men have had their shirts ripped open to display rippling muscles in a moment of romantic daring do. It makes me wonder if someone will go with a modern AU idea of BG3′s main crew that includes Astarion moonlighting as a much beloved romance/erotica writer under a nom de plume—the man has lines and characteristics that would shift well in such a verse-transposition. With that comparison in mind, I would suggest that Astarion is very, very used to playing the role of the illicit lover, the tempter of passions and other archetypes wherein he is the one confidently enticing people to cross the line of propriety with him for the implied, unspoken promise of a night filled with unparalleled ravishment. It might be he is fully, intentionally playing up to people’s fantasies about the passionate lover who falls madly in love with them at first glance. The fantasy of being so madly desired, as put forth by some romance stories. Then we have this other portion of the acting direction for the scene, “... very self-assured at first, but the player might not go along with the script he expects them to follow.” Isn’t that interesting? “Very self-assured at first,” why only at first? What changes? Does he have little doubts springing to mind then, because the realization that he knew, but didn’t really know until this moment when he feels the difference, that this isn’t just another routine night like all those other countless nights over the past two centuries where he had to tempt some poor, unfortunate soul back to Cazador’s waiting clutches? That this is someone he’s picked to spend the night with, solely for his own motivations, with no one else pulling the strings? Is it another moment of the realization of freedom, wherein he feels a touch terrified? Suddenly there is no script, there is no expectation of what he’s seen happen time after time after time after time to each person who’s looked at him the way the MC is looking at him now. Is it anxiety? Is it trauma? Is he feeling a moment of distant, cognitive dissonance that this time, this time, this person whom he’s picked, won’t be dead at the end of this? That he doesn’t have to hold them at arm’s length with the they’ll be dead soon or worse mentality he may have had previously...but can he afford to care? Does he dare? Whether he does or does not, it could be such a scary little moment of epiphany, that he even has the option to do so without immediate, horrendous repercussions. But can he really care, even without Cazador looming overhead as an immediate threat? Even if Cazador is slightly more distant now...there’s still the matter of the tadpoles. There is so much uncertainty potentially. Could this be the last chance he gets at having as close to a normal night of fully consenting, fully aware, mutual passion with another person as he can ever have, as a vampire spawn? Astarion could be interpreted as a character who is very strongly ruled by his emotions, in particular his fears and his desires. Does it befit his fears or his wants more to engage as he does in the romance scene? I’d guess moreso his fears, but it’s a fun back-and-forth he’s got as a character, zigzagging between those two extremes. He fears trusting as denoted in the dialogue from him if you fail the persuasion check asking him to trust you and to talk about who he dreamed about, but since you can persuade him...does that mean he wants to trust? If he speaks truthfully in this following scene, he does trust the MC to some degree out of necessity and/or the want to trust, as mentioned if you use the illithid powers in the camp bite scene where he’s revealed to be a vampire. He has likely been alone among the crowd of Cazador’s other spawn, given the lack of mention of anyone else, friend or otherwise, in his banter with Shadowheart regarding if there was anyone waiting for him back in Baldur’s Gate and other general conversations and discussions. That’s rather concerning truth be told, to go two hundred years with what might be a complete lack of positive or healthy social connection. Another thing Cazador has ripped away intentionally, it would seem. Does he want connection, meaningful friendship or otherwise? The fact that his approval rating has an impact on his manner of address of the MC or other selected origin character seems like it could be read as a suggestion that he does show whom he likes and dislikes openly in fairly standard socializing behaviors. That he does want to spend time around people whom he likes, who like him back. What would’ve been terribly clever of Larian (said without being able to compare all the different levels of approval shown via dialogue general greetings from the different companions), is if they had a character whose greeting was still amicable, polite, and most importantly friendly even when their approval of you was low. What if such a theoretical character’s greetings never changed, or changed very little aside from some variation at higher approval levels? That could be a great little twist of game mechanics to show either Something Isn’t Right, or that the character is a great liar, through meta knowledge on the player’s part of comparing all these disparate little details to compare and contrast. That kind of tell could be used to show that a character lacks either a degree of empathy and care for the main character, or that they are keeping the MC at arms’ length regardless of what the MC does (barring some potential high-approval impact and side-quest-completion that leads to influencing such a character, who might otherwise be a betrayer, into remaining loyal.) Seeing as Astarion lacks those major tells as of yet and that he does engage honestly either through persuasion or eventual revelation (such as if you fail the first dream-convo persuasion check, you find out from when he wakes up from nightmares regarding Cazador “reading poetry” what his dreams really were about), one could assume he does, in spite of all he’s been through, despite all the reasons he’s been given to fear, all the repetition beaten into his head to never trust another person ever again or to ever be trusted ever again... ...in spite of all that, perhaps a part of him still wants to reach out and engage with others. That some part of him still wants to interact as most if not all people do, in an emotionally meaningful and honest way. He says to the MC that he thinks they want to be known—and as I’m sure many of you clever lot who are in the shipping business alongside the rest of us have already thought or written out into fic, it very well may be that Astarion wants to be known too. Not just in the romantic or impassioned-love-affair manner of speaking, but simply for who he is, with both the MC and the rest of the group too. Accepted. Does he enjoy the little quips and barbs (assuming he actually is allowed to drink humanoid blood) such as from Shadowheart regarding his vampirism? Does that feel like a new, pleasant normal to him that he likes after a while? A joke between friends? Like the line “You know? I’m a little proud none of you were stupid enough to trust him!” [Linked here from scionsandsinners’s blog] while definitely still sporting his current insultingly low bar of expectations, it could be a nice potential build towards actually getting attached to the group on the whole as friends. Did he have that before he turned at all? Did he want that before? It seems likely given what we’ve seen of his raw emotional drive, that his potential desire for meaningful connection however obscured behind quips and barbs, that those elements were always a part of him in some way, shape or form. Does he remember, though? Or is it potentially something he’s forgotten, to some extent or other? Does he remember vaguely what friendship was like as another hollow memory among many, after so many years of torment wearing away at his mind? Do his friends from life if any still live? That could be bittersweet, if he did leave someone behind from when he was alive, that we might meet in Baldur’s Gate. He calls that Before—that time when he was still alive, before he lay dying and accepted Cazador’s offer of eternal life and was thus turned into a vampire spawn—so long ago it’s ancient history. “Everything before that is so long ago it’s ancient history and everything that came after…well uhm–I’d rather not reflect on it.” [Link here, from scionsandsinners] In some lines, tentatively guessed as post-vampire-status-reveal casual dialogue regarding his past before Cazador, relating to his days as a magistrate, he says he can’t remember what happened too clearly. “I…can’t remember much, truth be told–centuries of torment will do that to you.” [link from scionsandsinners blog] According to google searches on the internet for DND rules regarding the turning of vampires and vampire spawn, they do seem to retain the memories of their life even into undeath. Astarion certainly could be obfuscating and lying about how much he remembers from back then...but consider this alternative as a possibility: What if he isn’t? [Spoilers for some of the Amnesia game series ahead, specifically Amnesia: The Dark Descent, and the DLC Amnesia: Justine.] What if he does have a certain degree of memory loss? Enter the comparison of Daniel and Justine both from Amnesia: The Dark Descent and the game’s DLC. Astarion, unlike the main character for Amnesia’s main campaign Daniel, did not technically volunteer for memory loss...unless one counts agreeing to take Cazador’s deal as volunteering, specifically without full and knowing consent of what he was getting into. Daniel in comparison knowingly and willingly ingests a potion to erase his memories, and leaves a note to motivate himself and thus the player to follow the course of ensuing events that make up the game. Justine does so in a similar fashion to Daniel, but her memory loss is intentionally temporary, whereas Daniel seems to have meant for it to be of a more permanent fashion. What if part of Cazador’s intentions regarding torturing his spawn, including Astarion, was to break down memories of happier times until those spawn could only remember that they had ever been happy once, not the actual memory, not the actual feeling—only the bitter, hollow forgetfulness and knowledge that they had known, once? Starvation is devastating in many, many, many ways. Ways that are so rarely fully explored in fiction beyond the feeling of extreme hunger. Few, after all, would consider the impact of malnourishment or a constant caloric deficit upon mental faculties unless they have observed it, experienced it, or studied it. It is possible to suffer actual physical brain damage from starving, so one must ask is it so surprising that the ability to think, comprehend, and process information, memory or emotion also falters when under the very real physical stress of prolonged famine? The brain eats up at least a fifth of the baseline caloric intake required for the average person’s bodily needs. It does not compromise well for less without the person in question suffering consequences for most if not all individuals. We know Astarion has not had more than enough to barely survive under Cazador, and the quality has been well below subpar at best. What if, after all he’s been through, with the exhaustion of constant fear and extreme pain, of unending ravenous hunger, and so much more...what if Astarion can’t remember much of before at all? What if he has forgotten chunks of his past? He does remember large, broad brushstrokes yes, the shape of ideas and what he once knew. The home he might long to see that he has not laid eyes upon in centuries [mentioned in the conversation with the Ornate Mirror if Astarion is the one talking to it (or does it require he be the chosen main origin?) I have no source available at this current time alas.] How much of that home does he remember in full? I’m sure he can recall some details...but are they the abstract knowledge of those details of what he knew they were like, or the actual memory? Can you imagine the added layer of pain for an elf, if Larian is working with any of the racial features involving trancing, or the Reverie, if it’s built based off of the 2e DND Complete Book of Elves excerpt as mentioned in the following linked thread? [Posted by Remathilis, key word phrase is “The Reverie” or “The reverie is akin to sleep”, linked here] Specifically if these elements are at play: “The reverie is akin to sleep, yet is very much unlike it. When elves enter this state, they vividly relive past memories, those both pleasant and painful. Like the dreaming of humans, elves have no control over which memories rise to the fore when they relinquish their bodies to the reverie. Occasionally, elves do actually dream, but this is not a frequent occurrence and mostly occurs only when they truly sleep.” “Although the reverie provides rest, it is primarily an important memory tool that helps the elf maintain a strong sense of identity. Since their lifespans are so great, elves must periodically recall the events in those hundreds of years that were integral to the making of their personality.” This is from older versions of DND rules it’s true, but if it still applies, and applies to Astarion? This man has had over two hundred years’ worth of memories full of suffering and torment that, if he’s having traumatic PTSD nightmare episodes also helping to induce a higher frequency of recalling his torment at the hands of Cazador both during those centuries and afterwards, are potentially shaping his personality not only through the channels we can recognize in both fiction and the real world in psychological and physiological terms, but also supernatural or magical influences due to his being an elf and potentially shaped by the influence of what memories his reverie might dredge up. And the larger the number of traumatic, dark, fearful memories he has, the more likely he is to encounter them, especially if they’re coupled with a constant, ongoing fear of knowing these memories will be made anew each night unto infinity if he is stuck bound to Cazador’s service forever. Who wants to bet Cazador knew about this aspect of elven psychology/biology? Or at the very least speculated it, as far as having elven vampire spawn went? It will be interesting to see if there are other elven vampire spawn among Cazador’s underlings—either for the route of Cazador taking a particular extra pleasure in breaking elves because they are supposedly harder to influence in such a manner if he had others before Astarion, or if Astarion was the first elf Cazador turned, then perhaps Astarion received particular, special attention for being seen as an added challenge due to being an elf. Alexander from Amnesia however had to use a slightly defter touch to manipulate Daniel, having not so concrete a hold over him as Cazador over Astarion. But the torture of others, of fleeing to Alexander’s or Cazador’s promise of safety from an impending horror or threat of death, followed by a descent into the dark, unyielding despair of what Daniel or Astarion have done to survive? They do have potential parallels enough to make for a possible AU exploration in fics, certainly. One question that arises in this scenario of comparison though, is how much is Astarion aware of? How much of Cazador’s insidious influence does he recognize, in particular the more subtle parts that have seeped in over the years? Consider then the added layer of stark, blinding contrast, that he now has new memories, of new people, new experiences, in particular ones that are not torture or the anticipation of said torture, and it’s all in the daylight. Memories of daylight the likes of which he’s not had in two hundred years. Consider the mere color contrast from the lighting difference of daylight versus night time, like in the line where he asks “Was the sky always this blue? It’s magnificent…” [Link here to the audio, presumed triggered after vampire status reveal] If he dreams in reverie and the memory that comes to mind is set in the daytime...would he feel a bit safer in hoping that it will be a safer, better dream, than if it’s set in the night time? Consider how much of a horrible, terror-inducing surprise it might be to dream of a sun-filled garden, only to see an idealized version of Cazador show up, a la the tadpole. That has to be the meanest surprise-twist Astarion could have for a dream setting there. But on other nights if he does not have memories of Cazador or tadpole dreams plaguing him, does he dream of the camp, the companions, the MC, the actions their group has undertaken? What does he think of those dream-memories? Are they only relatively restful compared to the other dark memories lurking in his head, or are these new daylight-filled memories actually objectively restful for him? Perhaps one additional group of reasons he’s willing to join up with the party, is to get away from the memories. With people, there is the added unknown factor of complexity and chemistry, of lives and histories not his own added to the mix of any situation they come across. Of interaction. Of not being left alone to his own thoughts and nightmares. This group’s members aren’t victims meant for Cazador’s fangs and thirst, nor are they Cazador’s spawn, fellow damned souls and torturous devils both who alternate suffering upon the rack and potentially being the ones to turn the rack’s wheels for whoever is tied down upon it that night. Mayhaps Astarion wants to remember more of the things he’s forgotten in the darkness of all the years he’s suffered under Cazador—to make new memories of things he would associate with living, with being free. To fill in the hollowed out abstract memories with fresh, new details of life lived in the sun, in the here and now. Is he aware of just how much he’s forgotten? Even if he isn’t fully cognizant of the full tally of all that he’s potentially lost...it must still hurt to have an idea of how much he’s lost even if he’s only partially aware. In this, he might hold more comparison to Justine from Amnesia’s DLC moreso than Daniel, depending on what choices Astarion makes if he’s the chosen origin, or on the MC’s choices if it’s a custom origin playthrough—with Justine, her choices are all setup and intended to be an exploration of who she is as an exploration of character, to find out if she is capable of mercy and compassion still—while exercising a great deal of monstrous cruelty for her own amusement. With Daniel there is still the solid comparison of thematic elements in that his quest is a desperate pursuit of revenge while trying to outrun a great evil, all while acknowledging that he himself is horrifying as well. Justine’s story would parallel Astarion far more so on the dark path through Baldur’s Gate 3, naturally, whereas Daniel, if one selected the Revenge Ending at the end of Amnesia, has more in common with Astarion’s tentatively projected good route—revenge, while also ending a greater evil than himself. The parallel with Daniel may possibly even include a comparison to Amnesia’s Good Ending depending on what direction Larian takes Astarion’s story in. I doubt Larian would have Astarion become self-sacrificial, but I could see him potentially becoming much more inclined towards helping his friends and party members on a good-aligned path, as he seems at least not entirely unwilling to engage in do-goodery, particularly if bribed enough. There’s also certainly the idea of comparing Daniel being “tainted” as Alexander put it by the Shadow to Astarion’s potential point of view on his vampirism, given some of his expressions at times in emotional scenes relating to it. Then also the comparison of all the horrors Daniel has inflicted upon people, as have Justine and Astarion, and the fact that after the amnestic-influence of their specific story elements in this build, they are ultimately all able to be influenced towards better or worse endings dependent upon more immediate influences, namely the people surrounding them, and less so from long-standing influences of their past such as tradition, upbringing, and other core elements of identity that memory so often brings to the table, or at least helps formulate the detailing of. Justine admittedly does not really have “better” endings, but her horror story’s core could be interpreted as “was truly a monster at heart all along” from start to finish. Will Astarion prove to be similarly corrupt at his core, something that had always been true deep down regardless of Cazador’s influence on him, ultimately sowing harm and ruin upon the world and people around him, like Justine? Or will he turn out to be leaning towards being more of a good-inclined, flawed character with a bloodstained history he regrets and seeks to overcome, like Daniel? As a disclaimer though, Daniel is not a Good-aligned personality. He did many horrifying things to preserve his life, and Astarion certainly has done terrible things canonically under Cazador’s direction, though we still wait to see what Astarion did back when he was free to choose. With the attention to detail Larian Studios is applying as is to just what we’ve seen in Early Access, I would expect a fairly nuanced backstory for Astarion with murky morality, based on what we see of his opinions and character traits now. Another idea just to let loose an additional fox among the chickens: Consider the added layer of potential morality conflict in the scenario where Astarion might actually have very well been pursuing his idea of justice as a magistrate— coupled with his low opinions of others which he may have had before Cazador turned him, along with his racist/discriminatory comments and behaviors (re: Gur, Goblins, Gnomes, Kobolds, etc), likely suggests he could very well have been very biased in his perspective on how he meted out justice. I would not be surprised if Larian Studios kept the story idea that he was selling criminals off, but I also would not be at all shocked if they added details where it made what Astarion was dishing out closer to overly-harsh street-justice—he makes a fine murder-hobo adventurer as it is when the watchword of the day for many an adventuring party is “Murder Is An Acceptable Solution If Words Aren’t Working.” I also wouldn’t bat an eye should we find out he was as judgmental and cynical before Cazador as he is now, albeit perhaps with a different bend to his outlook from life experience influences. This all really ties in well with the usual game build of everyone starting at level one, as brand new, green adventurers—barring past adventuring experiences for backstory like Wyll, Lae’zel, and Shadowheart do or potentially have—at the start of their journey, off to explore the world and grow into the world-savers (or world-enders) they’re destined to be in a given campaign. Astarion fits this very well on many levels, among them given the fact how new everything is to him with this sudden change of the rules altering the very fabric of his existence. He has to deal with figuring out how to deal with his vampirism under his own agency and all the ensuing complications that come with that, has to figure out how to socially interact with others in all new ways, has to level up to go on his personal quest to save his own hide and eventually his friends’ and the world—it’s all so new and different, even the things he’s experienced before with such a drastic perspective shift and a change in power. It ties right back into his tagline so nicely too if that ends up being a possible theme of his, the whole memory-loss/memory-informing-his-identity element of being an elf: “ Astarion prowled the night as a vampire spawn for centuries, serving a sadistic master until he was snatched away. Now he can walk in the light, but can he leave his wicked past behind?” Can he leave those memories behind and forge himself into a better version of himself, if that is what he wants? What choices will Astarion make, if he does indeed have warped memories due to Cazador’s corroding influence to the point of some degree of memory loss? How will this flood of new sensory and social experiences change him as he goes forward? Who will Astarion choose to be, at the end of the day when they reach the road’s end? Will he let those dark memories twist and shape him, or will he try to make new ones among new friends, and follow their lead back into the sunlight? So many potential questions! Speaking of potential good-versus-bad-paths, this line isn’t in the game yet, but I feel it suggests Astarion might have a certain tolerance or perhaps even willingness to at least consider going out and saving the world, beyond lines we’re all familiar with already at the Tiefling celebration party: “Don’t you think we have other priorities right now? We need to save ourselves before we can save the world.” [Link here from Pjenn’s datamined post, dialogue theoretically occurs after a currently locked-off from Early Access encounter with a drow servant of the Absolute in the Underdark] It makes for a lot of intriguing possibilities, I dare say, all of which could make for marvelous variations in core character trait builds and influences for different interpretations of Astarion as a character. So many choices and gradients to play with, he and all the rest of the main cast have such nuance, it’s fantastic. The cast of characters all so far seem to have a wide variety of wants and motivations, and Larian seems like they might be quite determined to blur the line and inspire more rich exploration opportunities regarding perceived morality among many other potential topics of discussion—we have good characters with on-going flaws and darker motivations, evil characters with recurrent virtues and sympathetic appeal, and quite a few in-between when non-party-member NPCs are included in the mix. I do think Astarion along with all the rest of the party fit into those kinds of complicated-morality situations we’ve seen play out and be hinted at so very nicely, and it will be such fun to see how they grow through these experiences! It’s marvelous writing, directing, animation, acting, and just straight up work all across the board it looks like from over here. Anyway, thank you all for coming along on this literary ramble with me, I hope you had a fine time and that you all have a lovely day or night as befits your current timezone. Happy tidings to you, and stay safe everyone, and see you next time! :D

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bookworm555 · 4 years ago

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*Reuploaded FOR THE THIRD TIME because I realized that this never showed up in any of this fandom’s tags the first two times I posted it :/ Now I am trying this as a text post with images instead of a typical art post because nothing is freaking working and I am so frustrated.

Because read-mores apparently make my post glitchy, I apologize in advance for the length of this post, and hopefully, it doesn’t clog your dashes/the tags too badly.*

Another CatCF/WWatCF sketchdump~

The top drawing is the characters from the 1971 adaptation ten years later (which was an excuse to draw 80′s fashion, haha).

Ten years later doodles (from left to right) Top row: Violet and Veruca Second row: Mike, Charlie, and Augustus

(I think Violet turned out to be the best of these doodles!)

Some headcanons for the ten years later drawings (this would have been the section under the read-more, if it worked :/ ):

I always headcanoned the characters in the ‘71 version to be thirteen, minus Mike, who I saw as eleven. So basically everyone in the drawing is twenty-three except for Mike, who is twenty-one.

Violet: For years after the nightmare that was the factory tour, Violet struggled with major body image issues, especially about her blue skin. (And is homeschooled because of this.) However, eventually, her mindset basically became ‘Wonka thought this was a punishment? Fuck that; I’m going to embrace it’, so she became more confident.

Once this confidence hits during her late teens, she uses her unusual appearance to her advantage (especially when it comes to attracting visitors/potential buyers to her dad’s car dealership).

She doesn’t go to college; instead, she works at her dad’s place, and basically learns how to be a mechanic.

She hasn’t chewed gum since the factory tour.

When Charlie contacts her and the others, she is hesitant to respond back, but ultimately does (to sass him, at the very least). During the group’s future meetups, she’s basically the glue that keeps them together.

Veruca: Unlike Violet, Veruca carries a lot of guilt about what happened during the factory tour, since her father was punished along with her. He fell wrong, and as a result, was paralyzed from the waist down, and is now in a wheelchair. Veruca was lucky; aside from a broken ankle, she did not suffer any worse injuries.

Because of this, Veruca becomes mute (her mouthing off and constantly asking for things is what led to her–pun not intended–downfall, so she decides that it would be for the best if she stops talking altogether.)

Despite the Salts being wealthy, Wonka paid all of their medical bills. Even though it would have made sense for them to take him to trial, they decided not to (Henry did not want anyone to see him in his new state, and Veruca’s anxiety spiked even thinking about the factory).

When Charlie contacts the four ‘rejects’ ten years after the tour, Violet starts to bring Veruca out of her shell. Though it is ultimately Augustus who helps her feel comfortable speaking again, due to his soft-spoken personality.)

Mike: Like the others, Mike was very traumatized by what happened to him during the tour. (Especially since he was younger than the rest of them.)

While Violet embraced her altered state, and Veruca withdrew from the world, Mike became bitter. Very bitter. Because, while sure, Wonka and co. were able to get him back to about normal size [after stretching him waaaay too tall and thin the first time; his mother fainted, then had plenty of choice words for everyone involved when she came to], the process was incredibly painful, and involved basically rubber-fying his bones and muscles temporarily (yeah, he still had no idea why Wonka would even create a candy that did that).

Because of that, he has scars all over his body–the most on his arms, legs, and torso–so he always wears long-sleeved shirts or jackets, and long pants.

He is pissed that his life was ruined at age eleven; sure, he was obnoxious, but he was a KID. Now he’s stuck with chronic pain, not to mention the occasional breakdown because he has no idea if he’s actually HIM, or just a copy that was beamed through Wonka’s television room that managed to keep his soul. (Yeah, he doesn’t like to dwell on that; he prefers to think that that would be impossible.) [A/N: That part comes from the fact that Wonka stated that the chocolate that appeared in the TV screen was a copy of the much larger chocolate bar that was beamed through the air, and not the original bar itself]

When Charlie contacts him, he almost sends a nasty letter back, but something in him pauses, and he ends up sending a civilized response. It wasn’t Charlie’s fault all this happened to him; Charlie was the nice one, and, though he would never admit it to anyone, on the tour, he thought Charlie was cool. Goody-two-shoes, but in the ‘Lovable TV Protagonist’ sort of way.

As the five of them start meeting/corresponding through letters, he lets Charlie past all the walls he put up, and is definitely the closest to him in the group.

Charlie: Happily becomes Wonka’s protege after the tour. He is ecstatic that he not only gets to live and learn to work in this magical place, but he and his family are finally out of poverty!

He goes to school during the day, then learns the tricks of the candy trade in the afternoons and evenings.

However, about ten years after winning the tour, Wonka just…vanishes. And that’s when Charlie finds the videos showcasing what happened to the other four Golden Ticket winners after their mishaps.

Charlie is appalled; looking back, they were all so young. Of course, they were bratty; that’s how kids ARE. (Sure, some of them were worse than others, but they didn’t deserve their fates! Essentially, the four ‘losers’, plus Mr. Salt, were toyed with and tortured, and their parents could not help them.) Mike’s was especially horrible, to him; it was the only tape he couldn’t finish.

This makes Charlie feel a little guilty; he got off easy, even though he also disobeyed the rules.

He is also torn; on the one hand, Wonka was a great mentor, and he was fond of the man–he made a good father-figure, for him. But on the other hand, this was a man who thought the way to get rid of a kid’s bad habits was to torture them.

Before he could think otherwise, Charlie writes letters to the other Golden Ticket winners. He doesn’t expect anything nice back, but is surprised to find that they are all willing to talk to him.

He is relieved; he wants to right the wrongs done to them.

Augustus: The poor guy falls into a deep depression after the tour. Sure, he was thinner, but he had no problem with how he looked before. Not to mention, even the smell of chocolate and other sugary sweets makes him very nauseous. Oh, and there’s the not-so-small fear of drowning that he picked up, as well as severe claustrophobia.

He felt like a part of him was lost, since he could no longer enjoy his favorite foods. Or food in general. He ate to not starve, but that was it.

He was already quiet, but after the tour, he withdrew into himself even more, preferring to spend time with the neighborhood cats rather than people. (Yes, he is definitely a cat person.)

But he still has his kind heart, so when Charlie Bucket sends him a letter, he responds right away (and is the first one to do so).

When they start writing more letters to each other, and eventually meeting, he helps the others through their trauma, while ignoring his own. He thinks he’ll always be stuck this way.

Veruca disagrees.

And in terms of schooling, only Augustus went to college. As for high school, Violet and Mike were homeschooled, Veruca went to an exclusive, posh academy, Charlie stuck with public school, and Augustus went to a private school.

Now, if anyone was interested, these are the outfits that inspired the ones I drew (though, obviously, I took artistic liberties with some of them). I wanted to give them each a different style: Violet’s is the outlandish fashion the 80s are famous for, Veruca’s is demure and preppy, Mike’s is pretty unassuming, but with a slight edge, Charlie’s is comfortable/casual, and Augustus’s is comfortable/slightly formal.

Left to right: Violet, Veruca, Mike, Charlie, Augustus

(And I imagine the back of Mike’s jacket looking like this, aka with a vent, which is why the back of the jacket isn’t visible in the gap of his legs):

WOW, that got so long (oops…), but those were just my ideas for how these characters would interact and act ten years later. Hopefully someone enjoys this, XD

#bookworm555 #charlie and the chocolate factory #willy wonka and the chocolate factory #mike teavee #charlie bucket #augustus gloop #veruca salt #augustus x veruca #charlie/mike if you squint #at the very least they become veeeeery close friends in this #violet ends up with hmmm...winkelmann?? idk?#-kidding-#unless XDD #my art #please please please show up in the tags

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revisitingstoneybrook · 4 years ago

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#68 Jessi and the Bad Babysitter: Chapter 9

Phew, sorry for the long delay! Real life happened and I’ve been super busy. But I’m back now!

So last we left off, Jessi caught Margo shoplifting when they went to the party store to buy props for their BSC Project du Jour. But since this is the BSC, Jessi doesn’t tell the Pikes or even Mallory what she did. *eyeroll*

Also, something is rotten in the state of the BSC and it isn’t the 2-year-old box of Ring Dings in Claudia’s closet...

Next BSC meeting on Monday. Mallory doesn't say anything about Margo, so Jessi concludes that, sure enough, Margo didn't tell her parents. She frets about what to do and still doesn't say anything to Mallory! Oh my god, TELL HER!

Mallory's at the meeting, by the way, but still looks like she's going to nod off at any moment. Hey, as long as she's there. Or else there would be bad things on the horizon for her for missing another meeting. *cue lightning and thunder clap*

Jessi's mind is taken off of shoplifting and Margo briefly when the clock changes to 5:31 and Wendy isn't there! Uh oh! *cue more lightning and thunder clap* Jessi says it's the third time she's been late. Um...they were exactly on time the first BSC meeting she attended and they got to the Barretts a little late, I'll give them that. But the only meeting she had ever been to, they were on time! Geez! Kristy gets all huffy and demands to know where she is. Jessi says she can't be sick because she was in school today and Kristy snips that she should have called. It's a fucking minute, calm the hell down!

And what do you know, tons of the neglectful parents of Stoneybrook start calling in to get someone else to do the child-rearing while they're off doing who knows what and it's all jobs that Wendy could have taken. Steam is now pouring out of Kristy's ears at this point. Jessi, trying to defend her friend, suggests that maybe Wendy had a sitting job run late. But a scan of the record book shows that she had none scheduled. Kristy, shaking like a geyser about to explode, says she'll call Shannon to see what she can take on. Um, why don't they just have Shannon come to meetings if they're calling her so much? And for that matter, Logan too. Are they that busy? I mean, Shannon at least is home whenever they call her! That’s the logical solution but as we all know, the BSC lacks logic.

Before Kristy can call Shannon, Mallory says she wants to call her mom to come pick her up. She also tells the club that her mom finally remembered that she isn't the live-in nanny and made a doctor's appointment for her the following evening. The club (well, most of them, because Kristy is still simmering with rage) is relieved and Claudia says she was starting to get really worried. Mallory says she's worried for herself and then realizes...hey wait. The rest of the Pike Army needs someone to watch them! Jessi's the only one free but since there's so much of the Duggars Pikes, they need another sitter. Hey, what about that "Vanessa's really responsible" thing from the last chapter? No? Already forgotten? Ok.

The only other one free is Wendy and Kristy reminds everyone that, uh...she isn't at the meeting. So she's useless. Mallory calls her mom and goes to wait downstairs. Claudia and Jessi hope there isn't some serious, terrible disease afflicting Mallory, and they get an *eyeroll* from Kristy. And I'm posting the next exchange in its entirety because I don't know whether to laugh or get the urge to punch Kristy. Or both.

“She's probably got some kind of flu or something. And I hope we don't all catch it. If we have to close up for a couple of weeks we might just have to close up for good.” What a horrible thought! “Why?” I asked. “Because everyone will find other sitters,” said Kristy. “And once that happens they'll stick with their new sitters. We haven't heard from the Hills once since we couldn't take that job last week.”

Ok, what the fuck?! The BSC shutting down for a couple of weeks?! What about all those times the club went on a group vacation, Kristy? Did Shannon and Logan take every single job while you guys were away? Geez, being an associate requires a lot of time! And Kristy's whole rant doesn't make sense. I guess the Hills are still dead to the BSC because Mr. Hill did the unthinkable and said he would have to call other sitters.

Stacey, saying what we're all thinking, tells Kristy to stop freaking out about the Hills not calling, they probably just didn't need a sitter since last week. But...but...but this is Stoneybrook! Parents are ALWAYS going out and ALWAYS need someone else to raise their children! Kristy shoots down her argument:

“Maybe, but I don't like it,” Kristy grumbled. “It makes me nervous. The Hills may not be our biggest customers,” but Norman sure is our biggest charge, hoo-boy is he a fatass! “but I don't like to lose even a single client.”

I love how Kristy is freaking out because a family hasn't called for ONE WEEK. No calls for one week = they hate us and are moving on with another sitter. Paranoid and delusional, party of one!

Stacey reiterates that they haven't lost them, they probably just haven't needed a sitter since and Kristy says, “We don't know.” Good lord. Calm the fuck DOWN! Another job comes in, it's another Wendy could have taken and Kristy orders Jessi to call her. Jessi does and no one's home. Oh, if Wendy shows up and it was a family emergency, would Kristy still yell at her? Yeah, she probably would.

The meeting goes on, Logan and Shannon are called many times, it sounds like some jobs have to be turned down, so I guess more families have made it onto the “DEAD TO THE BSC” list. At 5:55, Wendy strolls in. Uh oh...she's in for a bad punishment now! *cues lightning and clap of thunder again* What will it be...50 lashes? An hour in the stocks? Babysitting for the Rodowskys without a crash helmet?

Kristy blows up at her and demands to know where she's been. Wendy, bewildered, says she had a babysitting job run late. She asks if any jobs came in for her and Kristy says, “Plenty. But you weren't here.” Oh, it's on, bitch!

Jessi says Wendy “didn't react the way I would have. I'd have been mortified and apologetic. Wendy grew angry in return.” Yeah, because she hasn't had the BSC Kool-Aid yet! Of course she's going to react with anger, instead of bending down and begging for an apology from Kristy.

Wendy asks what's the big deal, why does she have to be here if Mary Anne can tell from the record book when she is and isn't available. Kristy, whose face is turning pink again, growls, “Because you have to be.” God, Kristy is such a bitch in this book.

Jessi reminds Wendy that she HAS to be at every single BSC meeting on penalty of death unless it's an emergency. Wendy says it was, she had a babysitting job, she couldn't leave the kids alone. Well, then you bring the kids WITH you! Gosh!

Mary Anne tells her to call next time and wants to know why Wendy took a job without telling them. Wendy's confused and Kristy explodes, “That's the second club rule you've broken! First you were late without calling, then you took a job that wasn't offered to the rest of the club.” Wendy, completely dumbfounded and now irritated, says she had no idea and is shocked that she has to hand her regular jobs over to the BSC.

And why is Kristy yelling at her for breaking the rules? NO ONE EVER TOLD HER WHAT THE BSC RULES WERE!!!!! Remember? You gave her a dumb entry “quiz” and didn't explain ANYTHING about how the club operates, except for showing her how jobs are assigned! I understand the concern over her being late but how the hell was she supposed to know that she's expected to hand over her own personal sitting jobs?

Stacey explains, “We all share jobs. Even if a client asks for a certain sitter, we offer it to everyone in the club. That's the only way to be fair.” And avoid any potential bitch fights if a client asks for someone specific and the club flips out at said sitter. See: book #15 (shameless plug - I’ve done that one on here! Check the tags!)

So Wendy is supposed to tell all her clients, who the BSC doesn't know, “Sorry, I can't be your main sitter anymore. You must call this number, 3 times a week, ONLY at this time, and reach other sitters too. Sorry, but that's the only fair way! Hail Kristy!” That is so stupid.

Wendy apologizes and says she'll call next time she's late. She also accepts the Pike job with Jessi, who begs Wendy to please please PLEASE be there on time. After the meeting, Wendy bolts out of there and Jessi catches up. Wendy asks Jessi what we've been wondering for ages, “Who does Kristy think she is?”

Jessi, ever the brainwashed BSC member, responds Kristy Thomas is the kindest, bravest, warmest, most wonderful human being I've ever known in my life “She's the president of the club. If she wasn't strict, things wouldn't run nearly as efficiently as they do. Our customers wouldn't be as happy and neither would we. It's better that Kristy makes everyone obey the rules.” Yeah, but there's a difference between strict and crazy dictator. Mallory shouldn't feel guilty about being sick and Wendy shouldn't be yelled at for breaking rules she had no idea existed.

Wendy calls Kristy crabby (that's an understatement) and Jessi insists she's just worried that the club is in trouble. And Jessi ponders...is the club really in trouble?

#babysitters club #jessi and the bad babysitter #jessi ramsey #bsc #snark

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itsclydebitches · 5 years ago

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Geralt and Yen: Relationship Dynamics in The Last Wish

Hi, @dottirselena! Hope you don’t mind me tagging you. I’m very much a meta person, so when your comments popped up in my email I thought I’d waste some time this afternoon diving into Geralt and Yen’s relationship a bit. For those of you who don’t know, I’m referring to a silly ship post I made and this question attached to it:

“I’m reading the Last Wish and I don’t understand “Nenneke establishes that Yennefer treats Geralt like dirt”? In fact, it’s the other way around. Apparently they were together and he ditched her without telling her why and she’s furious with him. HE treated HER like dirt. The crystals are supposed to be some sort of half-assed half-baked barely-there “atonement” for his mistake.”

So far The Last Wish is the only witcher collection I’ve read and thus my knowledge/analysis of the relationship comes purely from that text (the 2007 paperback edition, translation by Danusia Stok. Also beware of spoilers for the short story’s ending from here on out). Admittedly, it would have been far more accurate for me to say that how Nenneke discusses Geralt and Yen’s relationship establishes that she treats him like dirt. Because I don’t think she’s a very reliable witness here. We don’t get to see this fight for ourselves. Rather, we hear Nenneke’s interpretation of it: Geralt “ran away” from Yen, behaved “in a manner not particularly worthy of a mature man” and is now using these gems to “wipe away [his] guilt” (270). That’s what she says, but that’s not necessarily what happened. There are two sides (at least) to every story.

Indeed, Geralt immediately refutes two points. The first is when he re-characterizes “running away” by pointing out that Yen was “too possessive.” He’s asserting that he didn’t just ditch her for no reason. Or even a bad reason. His language here suggests that she was mistreating him. He says that “She treated me like---” but notably Nenneke doesn’t let him finish. We don’t get to hear what Yen treated him like---a possession? A slave? A fool? A child?---because Nenneke cuts him off, outright saying, “I don’t give a shit how she treated you,” thereby denying Geralt the right to explain his side of things and, likewise, the reader’s right to get the full picture. He’s attempting to justify leaving and is straight up not allowed to do so. Geralt likewise asserts that the gems are not an atonement for what Nenneke perceives are mistakes, but rather him just trying to help Yen out despite their differences: “You misunderstand. I’m not thinking of appeasing or bribing her. I do owe her something, and the treatment she wants to undergo is apparently very costly. I want to help her, that’s all” (270). Rather than grapple with whether she believes in Geralt’s altruism or not, Nenneke instead goes on to tell him that the money would be useless to Yen anyway. She can make far more far quickly. Thus, the reader doesn’t get to see Nenneke potentially revoke her earlier assumptions. She, again, ignores Geralt’s attempts to explain, likewise leaving the reader with a very strong assertion on her end and only the words Geralt has been able to get in edge-wise on his. This story is imbalanced.

Nevertheless, by the end of the conversation we’re left with two distinct viewpoints. Since we don’t get to see the fight for ourselves, we have to decide what interpretation we buy into. Do we believe Nenneke, asserting that Geralt treated Yen badly, ran away from his mistakes, and is now trying to get past it in an insulting manner by paying her off? Or do we believe Geralt, asserting that Yen treated him horribly, he left because of that, but he still wants to help her by offering some money for this treatment?

Personally, I believe Geralt and not just because the person in the relationship probably has a better perspective on the situation than a priestess who sees them only a few times a year and who, notably, spoke to Yen first. We learn that Yen arrived two months ahead of Geralt and thus had that time to sway Nenneke to her version of events before Geralt even showed up. Her view of the situation was set before he ever got the chance to tell his side and, as we’ve established, Nenneke isn’t interested in hearing that. Nevertheless, even though we don’t get to see this specific fight, we do get to see how Geralt and Yen interact when they first meet... and I think Yen treats him like dirt. We see throughout this encounter that she’s a manipulative, vain, and incredibly power hungry person:

She attacks Geralt. Not because he was in her bedroom but because he dared to be sarcastic towards her, asking which question she wants him to answer after she shoots out three in a row. It’s only Geralt’s witcher abilities that save him, something Yen doesn’t know about when she decides to attack. So she’s willing to greatly harm others when she thinks they’ve been a bit rude (291).

She clearly values her own beauty and comfort over others’ lives. Geralt reminds her that “time is of the essence” and she still insists on a bath before seeing Dandelion (293-4)

We see how she likes to taunt men and then blame them for the situations she set up. Yen insists that they bathe together, despite Geralt not wanting to bathe at all when his friend is in trouble. She insists that they should be mature about this, “I don’t faint at the sight of a naked man” (294), and is agreeing to have him there while she bathes, yet will later punish him for this. Geralt offers to turn around while she washes and Yen insists that she needs to see his eyes, so she makes herself invisible instead, thereby demanding that he look at her even if he can’t fully see her. Yen also insists that he fasten her dress. She is, in short, flirting with him and Geralt, already being attracted to her, finds himself distracted by the washcloth and soap outlining her form. He doesn’t act on anything and, notably, keeps trying to set up a new situation wherein she can bathe in peace: let me leave, let me turn around, etc. Yen refuses. Geralt keeps trying to be the gentleman, Yen keeps forcing him to engage with her in a flirty, sexual manner using Dandilion’s life and/or voice as the blackmail. Then later Yen re-characterizes this ‘I forced you to bathe/look/touch me’ into Geralt deliberately going after her in an inappropriate manner. She plays the victim:

“My accounts in Rinde could be settled by anyone, including Chireadan. But you’re the one who’s going to do it because you have to pay me. For your insolence, for the cold way you look at me, for the eyes which fish for every detail, for your stony face and sarcastic tone of voice. For thinking that you could stand face-to-face with Yennefer of Vergerberg and believe her to be full of self-admiration and arrogance, a calculating witch, while staring at her soapy tits. Pay up, Geralt of Rivia!” (310, emphasis mine)

The thing is, Yen is full of self-admiration and arrogance. She’s so arrogant that for her a punishment of taking away Geralt’s autonomy and framing him for her crimes equals his “crime” of being sarcastic towards her and looking at her breasts while she very deliberately paraded them with the hope that he would look. Because then Yen has an excuse to punish him. This is, notably, a fraught interaction to analyze in this day and age because we’ve grown used to men insisting that women “forced” them to do something. She was taunting me, she clearly wanted it, I couldn’t help myself, etc. It’s a bit of a knee-jerk reaction to blame him in any scenario because sexual violence against women is so prevalent. However, this is not a case of a woman, say, wearing something skimpy and a man deciding to sexualize her while she’s just getting on with her life. Idk about anyone else, but if I insist on taking a bath at a very inappropriate time, insist that you take this bath with me, insist that you have to look at me while I wash/disregard the offer that you’ll turn around, deliberately flirt with you the whole while... and then get pissed that you looked at my breasts? I’m setting up a trap.

Speaking of traps, when Geralt thanks her for curing Dandilion he finds that there’s another trap set up. He’s clear about being willing to pay Yen in whatever way she pleases. He’s not trying to get out of this transaction by just offering gratitude, going so far as to say that Yen “treated him more kindly, albeit in a calculated manner, than the majority of your brethren would have done” (307). Which based on what we’ve seen so far is a really low bar. Yet Yen has decided she only wants the genie and is willing to endanger both Geralt and Dandelion to get it. As we know, she uses Geralt as a tool to attack all the men who have slandered her, getting him arrested, beaten up, and thrown into jail. Alongside the innocent Chireadan. It’s only Yen’s likewise “magnanimous” last wish that she has Dandelion make that ensures they won’t both be hanged. We learn later that Dandelion doesn’t actually have control of the genie, his wish is useless from a magical standpoint, but Yen didn’t know that. The story presents a last minute ‘Okay. I guess I won’t let them hang you’ as a kind act... even though it’s Yen’s doing that their lives were in danger in the first place.

Finally, we see precisely how much a lust for power and her own arrogance has warped Yen’s ability to read the situation she’s in. Geralt insists that the genie will kill her, she haughtily claims she’s not so easy to kill. Yen opens a portal for him to escape through but insists that she doesn’t need to use it. They fight and all Yen can think about is how the genie will get away. She learns that Geralt has the last wish and taunts him with his witcher mutations--- “Humanity,” she said suddenly, smiling nastily” (341)---playing on his emotions to try and get him to make a wish so she can finally try to capture the genie. Key word being “try” considering that we’re told her spells are fading and her legs are shaking. Yen, with even more arrogance, insists she’s still up for the task. Only Geralt can see how that arrogance is going to get her killed. And killed for what? Pure power. We learn earlier on that only a few have ever successfully bottled a genie and with that power you can literally move mountains. As a former hunchback, Yen is desperate to be everything: the most beautiful, the most respected, the most powerful. As far as we know so far, Yen doesn’t want that power for some noble reason like, say, saving a loved one from some otherwise fatal disease. She just has a drive to possess it and she doesn’t care who she has to trample in order to achieve that. An opportunity arises to keep someone from the noose, or to open Geralt a portal? Sure, she’ll do it, but only if it’s convenient. If, you know, saving them from the noose also gets rid of the last wish so she can have her shot at the genie; only if opening a portal also gets him out of her hair so he won’t stop her from attempting to achieve this power. Yen is one of the most selfish characters I’ve come across in a long, long time. Based on what we see in The Last Wish, Yen is only out for herself.

In contrast, this story establishes that Geralt really is altruistic in many respects. The whole setup here is that he’s willing to do anything, even meddle with a sorceress others are afraid of, to save his friend. Yen agrees to help him before breakfast (again, how magnanimous) because Geralt thought of a “thirsty woman” and brought her apple juice, even with everything else going on (294). The conclusion is Geralt attempting to save Yen despite everyone insisting that to do so is suicide, despite what she’s done to him mere hours before. Geralt likewise uses his last wish to bind them so that Yen will survive her encounter with the genie. That’s admittedly not pure altruism---he clearly desires Yen and wants her to survive for that potential relationship---but the fact remains that he could have wished for anything and screw the woman who used him and a dying friend to gain power.

All of which is a very long-winded way of saying, yes. Yen does treat Geralt like dirt. She enjoys hurting others if they don’t show her what she perceives as the respect she deserves. She enjoys the attention her new beauty brings her while likewise enjoying punishing men for giving it to her. She wants power above all else and will sacrifice others to achieve it---most notably Geralt. She’s cruel, arrogant, vain, and power-hungry.

So when we return to where we started, Geralt and Nenneke’s conversation, I know who’s side of the story I believe so far. We’re given two distinct perspectives, Geralt the abandoner now trying to pay Yen off with gems vs. Geralt the mistreated who wants to help Yen despite the horrible way she’s treated him. The Last Wish shows us the dynamic Geralt claims is the truth. The Last Wish provides far more evidence that we should believe Geralt’s side of the tale rather than Nenneke’s:

Yennefer saw him, jumped up and raised her hand.

“No!” he shouted, “don’t do this! I want to help you!”

“Help?” she snorted. “You?”

“Me.”

“In spite of what I did to you?”

“In spite of it” (331)

Based on what we know I think it’s the same situation this time around too. Yen did something---“She treated me like...”---and Geralt is trying to help her “in spite of it,” this time with money for the procedure she desperately wants. We only have Nenneke’s word that Geralt is in the wrong here and her word doesn’t stand up to his explanations or what we get to read for ourselves.

#witcher #the witcher #geralt/yen #Nenneke #mymetas #I 100% didn't expect to dive into witcher meta #at least not so soon #yet here we are

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grandzealot · 4 years ago

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SHIPPING INFO // Answer the following for your muse(s) so people know how shipping works on your blog. REPOST. Don’t reblog.

WHAT’S YOUR OTP FOR YOUR MUSE?: atticus (starling) and richter ( #atticus and richter )

WHAT ARE YOU WILLING TO RP WHEN IT COMES TO SHIPPING?: i cant rly do any new deep authentic romance here so im mostly here for all other things? lighter or more superficial or disastrous etc. richters more sexually driven than romantically driven but im not generally into smut ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ i do like writing him navigating relationships horribly tho and its natural to hint at his lustful thoughts if hes with someone he desires

HOW LARGE DOES THE AGE GAP HAVE TO BE TO MAKE IT UNCOMFORTABLE?: i start disliking it at about ten years. at fifteen or so ill usually refuse. within five years of one another is ideal. i do make exceptions if im comfy writing w someone but its genuinely not a thing i just lightly step into for tmi irl personal history lmao

ARE YOU SELECTIVE WHEN SHIPPING?: yes but richter is a canon character so honestly anyone can have at him in their characters own canon— im just not necessarily interested in writing this richter in that role. i care about both writing and character chemistry

HOW FAR DO STEAMY MOMENTS HAVE TO GO BEFORE THEY’RE CONSIDERED NS.FW?: i think before id fade to black before bathing suit areas were touched but honestly these days i dont think id do even heavy kissing here lmao ( i actually have an easier time drawing those things tho bc its more of an aesthetic exercise then )

WHO ARE OTHER MUSES YOU SHIP YOUR MUSE WITH?: ahhhh so many great combinations (and some going no deeper than almost kisses necessarily.) ive written lots over the last 4 years but as far as who ive had inbox interactions with these last couple weeks or whatever being back: @america-redefined @atomsandnothingness @glowfelt @griimreaping @hellbentwidow ...& @beenpole is a special one bc marcie and richter interactions have been around since i started this blog and shes one of the characters richter always feels deeply about c: <3 theres honestly a lot more and the potential for a lot more i just went through my drafts and inbox to see whos around recently who i have shippy stuff to answer for lmao

DOES ONE HAVE TO ASK TO SHIP WITH YOU?: idk honestly. usually if it feels like theres a spark there ill mention it eventually but i think i have been too intimidated to say things sometimes lmao. i do need our characters to interact first to get a feel for it i think unless im comfortable w the other mun and we just plan a no pressure character fling lmao

HOW OFTEN DO YOU LIKE TO SHIP?: its hard to say because it is easy to write for when that interest is there but i do get worn out feeling like my blog is full of shipping after a few replies in a row lmao

ARE YOU MULTISHIP?: yes and by default richters super monogamous so he usually has to be multiverse ( tho some of his incarnations are not like that )

ARE YOU SHIP OBSESSED OR SHIP MORE-OR-LESS?: i think this was answered two questions up... but i am sorta obsessed w my best friends character and our ship but that feels more like it mixes into personal writing and development more than tumblr rp at this point. i post a lot of inspo for it here where i can access it easily with tags but im interacting w other people here to grow in my writing and maybe learn and experiment with new things

WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE SHIP IN YOUR CURRENT FANDOM?: lady maria of the astral clocktower extending her hand into the heartspace of player character i, tenderly visceralling me into deaths equally sweet embrace as her elegant boss theme leads us into the YOU DIED overlay

FINALLY, HOW DOES ONE SHIP WITH YOU?: by default just rp w me platonically and ill probably bring it up if it feels like theres something? alternatively you could directly ask and ill say what i think at that time but if i dont know you or your character that well probably dont ask bc ppl being directly after ships is offputting to someone like me? theres nothing wrong with being really into ships and being down to just dive into one – youre probably just better matched w someone whose writing is inspired in the same way?

tagged by: @beenpole * ( sorta lol ) tagging: anyone interested c:

#long post cw #shipping #about zas

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wiseabsol · 4 years ago

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WA Reviews “Dominion” by Aurelia le, Chapter 13: A Start

Link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/6383825/13/Dominion

Summary: For the Fire Nation royal siblings, love has always warred with hate. But neither the outward accomplishment of peace nor Azula’s defeat have brought the respite Zuko expected. Will his sister’s plans answer this, or only destroy them both?

Content Warnings: This story contains discussions and depictions of child abuse, emotional abuse, physical abuse, sexual abuse, and incest. This story also explores the idea that Zuko’s redemption arc (and his unlearning of abuse) is not as complete as the show suggested, and that Azula is not a sociopath (with the story having a lot of sympathy for her). If that doesn’t sound like your cup of tea, I would strongly recommend steering clear of this story and my reviews of it.

Note: Because these were originally posted as chapter reviews/commentaries, I will often be talking to the author in them (though sometimes I will also snarkily address the characters). While I’ve also tried not to spoil later events in the story in these reviews, I would strongly recommend reading through chapter 28 before reading these, just to be safe.

Now on to chapter 13!

CHAPTER 13: A START

Alright, on to chapter thirteen. Before I begin, since there have been some people in the comments expressing interest in my full reviews, they can be found at: wiseabsol (dot) tumblr (dot) com (slash) tagged (slash) dominion (percent sign) 20by (percent sign) 20aurelia (percent sign) 20le. I might also run the idea of setting up a forum for “Dominion” by Aurelia. That way, you all would have someplace to read my reviews on this website, as well as discuss the story with each other outside of the reviews section.

On to the review. Zuko has slept past sunrise, which may be an indication of how bad a shape he’s in, since firebenders are supposed to rise with the sun (Azula, note, still rose with the sun while hospitalized). But he managed to sleep the night through without nightmares, which is progress for him. Turns out he’s achieved that by drinking a sedating tea left by Iroh.

“The old man had even gone do far as to pretend Mai told him, to try to get Zuko to talk. It was the kind of thing Azula would do.”—Iroh and Azula are both cunning, strategic thinkers, which may be part of why she makes Iroh uncomfortable. She probably reminds him of himself when he was younger. If she’d been a boy, it’s possible that he might have tried to take Azula under his wing…but given that she was a girl, and thus had gender roles that she was supposed to conform to (hence him giving her a doll), he didn’t. That and Ozai snapped her up quickly, with Iroh soon afterwards writing her off as Ozai’s “creature.” But I wouldn’t be surprised if we later find out that part of why Iroh considered her so dangerous was because she reminded him of his younger self, rather than Ozai.

Apparently Zuko blew up at Iroh for the deception, and said some things he shouldn’t have. Old habits die hard.

“What his uncle couldn’t know was that there was no help for what he did.”—Yeah, sleeping with your sister is not something you can take back.

Zuko has some manservants in the room with him, who offer him fruit, foot washing, and hot towels, which he doesn’t accept. What even is the point of being royalty if you can’t enjoy some nice things, Zuko? Though you probably don’t think you deserve nice things. As the manservants go about getting him ready, Zuko has this pleasant memory of Mai: “Mai used to put his hair up for him, when she woke at the same time as Zuko. She wasn’t much good with hair, in truth, but that hardly mattered. More often than not, it was just thinly veiled foreplay”—So they were a genuinely sweet couple at one point.

But then it’s time to go to Squicktown: “But when he tried to recall those mornings now, it was his sister’s slim fingers that raked through his hair, her mouth that he tasted, the warmth of her skin—“—That’s gross, buddy. While we could chalk this up to being a sign of his continued obsession with Azula, it could also be a sign of trauma. Good memories triggering associations that trigger bad memories. If he was wanking off to the memory of Azula, then I’d say it was an obsession thing. As it is, it’s causing him distress, so trauma seems more likely.

“A memory made all the more painful by having to wonder how much of that Azula did at their father’s command, those years he abused her under the guise of training….”—Sadly, I think Ozai does believe it was training. Though this is also the dude who believes that suffering is instructive.

“With such dark thoughts as he had for company, he barely noticed the comings and goings of the palace staff anymore.”—Losing your situational awareness is not good, Zuko. Especially when you know there are people who aren’t happy with your reign.

“Uncle thought it started shortly after Zuko was banished. She would have been eleven.”—Ugh. That is vile. Though I suspect that Ozai was grooming her before then.

Ozai is dying from his burns. While I’m inclined to say “Good riddance,” if he dies, it means that Zuko will have committed patricide, which will cause a public outcry and earn him more enemies. Also, Azula will never forgive him for it.

“The man lived to plague him, he knew.”—Ozai is absolutely that spiteful.

“He remembered asking Iroh if his banishment might have been planned. If his father might have sent him away just to do that to Azula, to remove the last family member she might have turned to for defense, the last witness to his crimes. He remembered the look his uncle gave him then, when he said they may never know.”—I think it’s probable that Ozai was looking for an excuse to get rid of Zuko, just like he did with Mai and Ty Lee. He wanted to isolate Azula, but he also wanted to get Zuko out of the picture so he could make Azula first in line for the throne.

That being said, I don’t think Ozai believed that Azula would turn to Zuko for help. The siblings were already poisoned against each other back then. I think the look Iroh gave Zuko wasn’t because he knew the answer to the question—it was because he knew that it wouldn’t have mattered whether Zuko was there or not. Ozai would have done this to Azula anyway, and given how careful they were to hide it, I don’t think Zuko would have noticed that something was wrong until the abortion. I doubt that Iroh would have noticed either, since he was so focused on Zuko. While the idea of, “If I was there, I could have done something!” is a comforting one, it’s also naïve on Zuko’s part. He was a child then, too. And given Zuko’s disposition at that age—to confront evil head on, without thinking through the potential consequences—he probably would have ended up in a much worse position than he did in canon. He would have been a security risk to Ozai—a security risk that can’t lie well. No, I think Zuko being there would have resulted in disaster. Iroh, on the other hand, might have been able to figure out a quiet solution. But he wasn’t there, and so the possibility passed.

Iroh, in any case, left after receiving a letter from Rai, without telling Zuko the contents of said letter. Iroh says this is so Zuko can have plausible deniability, but because Zuko is in bad mental shape, he’s slipping into some paranoia about it—paranoia rather like Azula’s at the end of the series. He’s unkempt, he can’t sleep, he is wracked with self-hatred and guilt (Azula was, too, though her mind expressed it through Ursa’s hallucination). If he starts banishing people, it will probably start rumors that madness runs in the family.

“He wondered if his uncle began to mistrust him around Azula. If he knew what you did, he would never trust you with her again, he reminded himself.”—Which would be fair of him, Zuko. But Iroh is too convinced of your goodness to suspect that you would hurt her intentionally. He was ready to handwave away you killing her as an act of self-defense.

“And Mai would not receive the old general at her parents’ house, sparking rumors she had left the palace to avoid him, rather than her husband.”—I think because Mai knows that Iroh will side with Zuko in a conflict, and that’s not something that she wants to deal with right now. I do not blame her.

Zuko continues to contemplate Iroh’s visit, sliding into self-pity as he thinks of how tired Iroh must be getting of him: “[Iroh] was probably just as relieved to go as Zuko was to see him away….”

“‘It isn’t fair,’ [ . . . ] That one mistake with Azula should poison the only healthy, loving relationship he had with any blood relative. It wasn’t fair.”—Zuko thinks this, but he’s the one who is pushing Iroh away. I think he could have told Iroh a portion of the truth—that he and Azula argued, that he got angry and intentionally hurt her, and that he feels horrible about it now. I think that would shake Iroh’s faith in Zuko, but I think he would still be supportive, and would understand, finally, that Zuko still has lingering behavioral problems from Ozai’s abuse that need to be worked through. It might have opened up some routes to healing faster…though I daresay that Mai wouldn’t have been pleased with Zuko giving his uncle a sanitized version of the truth.

Zuko’s chamberlain comes in, with a list of what sounds like some very important meetings that Zuko should go to, but Zuko has other plans for his day. He’ll still keep the meeting with the “Advisory Board for the Reformation of Asylums,” which Zuko created sometime in the last few weeks. For now, though, Zuko is going to see Mai and Lu Ten.

We transition to Iroh meeting with Rai. Apparently, Iroh recruited her after her banishment from the Fire Nation. Rai catches Iroh up on how her time with Azula went, but feels that she could have done more for Azula. Iroh interrupts her by placing a hand on her knee—weird choice there, Iroh—and says that it was for the best that she didn’t reveal that she knew who Azula was, because, “‘She might even have killed you.’”

Rai, though, has more faith in Azula than Iroh does: “‘No.’ The cook shook her head, surprising Iroh. ‘She makes threats when she’s under duress. And she certainly knows how to sell them [ . . . ] But she never struck me as particularly bloodthirsty, either then or now. She would avoid unnecessary violence, if only to keep a low profile.’”—Thank you, Rai!

Rai, bless her, also dismisses Iroh’s question of whether the wounds could have been self-inflicted. I see why he would ask this, given the self-harm Azula committed in the asylum, but it does make it clear that he hasn’t seen her any time recently, after she started getting better. He then wonders if maybe the asylum had been mistreating her and covered up the signs, since his visits were announced in advance and he only ever saw her from a distance.

Then he wonders if Zuko was the one who injured Azula—ding, ding, Iroh, you are correct! “It would go a long way toward explaining his obvious guilt, and Zuko had always been given to emotional excesses.”—No kidding. In regards to the burn, he thinks, “He could not see what purpose it had served, except to hurt her…”—CORRECT AGAIN!

Rai, meanwhile, wonders about Azula being sent to the asylum. She thought that Azula might have been jailed or banished by Zuko instead. This ticks Iroh off: “Her brother showed her compassion,” he insists, but Rai is not convinced, since the workers at the asylum might have hurt Azula. When she expresses that, Iroh responds hotly, “‘He knew naught of this, woman,’” and breathes out flames. I’m not fond of him calling her “woman” here, because when men do that, it’s often meant to be dismissive or demeaning. The show of flames is also not cool of him. Control yourself, Iroh.

Rai isn’t impressed by him and plans to leave, but Iroh has more questions. He asks what happened to the man who assaulted Azula, and Rai responds: “‘Dead,’ Rai told the woodplank floor, her voice barely breaking a whisper when she crossed white arms under her ample bust.”—Why are you noticing the size of her breasts, Iroh? But also, this does seem hard for Rai to talk about.

Iroh assumes Azula killed the guy, but Rai corrects him, telling him that she did it herself. “The woman raised her eyes to his, and Iroh was reminded uncannily of his missing sister-in-law.” Oh, I hope that Ursa kills Ozai. I feel like it’s improbable that that will happen, but I want it. Also, the phrase “silk hiding steel” comes to mind here, both for Rai and Ursa.

Rai discusses her reasons for killing Lee—both to give Azula a measure of protection and for justice—and how her own husband, Shou, abused her. “If she had been abused, of course this cook would look coldly on what she likely viewed as excuses for the abuse of Azula. Her own husband probably made her parrot lines like that, that it was an accident, she did it to herself….”—As much as I obviously empathize with Azula, I should point out that there is, theoretically, some danger in Rai doing the same. If Azula had continued to behave abusively towards others, Rai’s empathy for Azula’s suffering might have made her inclined to excuse Azula’s actions, much like Iroh currently does for Zuko. And if she’s excusing those actions, then she might have been caught off guard and hurt by Azula during their time together.

That being said, in this case, Rai’s empathy is refreshing, and also lends itself to a more accurate reading of Azula’s character than Iroh has. Iroh, very confused by this point, asks Rai why she would go to such lengths to help his niece. As it turns out, Rai worked in the kitchens at the palace, while her husband was an imperial firebender. She couldn’t accuse him of abuse or get away from him, but when Azula started banishing people, Rai was banished before he was—and so she managed to escape and stay ahead of him all of this time.

“‘Rai,’ he said quietly, a little concerned for her sanity at this point, ‘you must know she didn’t mean to help you. She banished her servants because she was crazy, not out if any altruistic urge.’”—It rubs me the wrong way that Iroh thinks that Rai might be crazy. There’s a part of me that wants to throw at him, “You only think that because you’ve never known what it’s like to be helpless,” but I know that’s not true. It’s not like Azulon was compassionate to Iroh or cared about his emotional needs, and losing Lu Ten would definitely have made Iroh feel helpless. Still, this grates on me, possibly because Iroh is a very privileged man and hasn’t faced the same hardships as Rai. I feel like Ursa would understand Rai, though. I don’t know if they would get along—somehow, I doubt it, since Rai has faith in Azula and Ursa does not—but I’d love to see a conversation between them someday.

Much to Iroh’s discomfort, Rai talks about how the palace staff knew that Ozai was mistreating Azula, and hints that there were rumors about the sexual abuse, too: “Those years Prince Zuko was banished, her father kept her so close [ . . . ] She turned up all manner of strange injuries [ . . . ] and even disappeared for a week once. There were some as said he killed her. And those were the least of the rumors. [ . . . ] There was something…wrong there. [ . . . ] Everyone knew it. And no one did anything. [ . . . ] Not even me.”

When Iroh points out that Ozai was the Fire Lord and there was nothing that she could have done, Rai is not consoled: “‘And she was a piece of work,’ Rai finished bluntly, holding his gaze. ‘I know. She was also a child, with no one to treat her like one. I thought I might be someone to look out for her, even years too late’”—God, it’s so nice to hear someone point out that no matter how cruel Azula was, she was a kid and didn’t deserve what happened to her. It’s so good to see someone want to look out for her and help her. I’ve never thought that Rai could have been an inspiration for Tam, but she’s hitting the same points, even if she’s a very different person. I wish we had more of Rai in this, but I suspect her role in the story is done by the end of this chapter.

As their conversation winds down, Iroh reassures Rai that she did help Azula and pays her for the information. Rai urges him to help Azula, even if Azula pushes him away. “‘She really seems to hate you,’” Rai says, and I think that’s due to, A.) Ozai turning Azula against Iroh, B.) Iroh’s claim of killing the last dragon, C.) Iroh sending Azula gifts that catered more towards who Ursa wanted her to be, rather than who Azula wanted to be, and D.) Iroh choosing Zuko and telling Zuko to confront Azula and take her crown from her. Iroh says his goal is to help Azula, but he inwardly admits that he’s not sure how.

We shift back to Zuko, who is just arriving at Mai’s place. Mai’s uncle, the warden from the Boiling Rock, is there, and isn’t happy to see Zuko. He escorts Zuko in, and there is a brief exchange with Mai’s parents, during which her mother seems to imply that Mai’s uncle better not mess things up with the Fire Lord. Once the rest of the family is gone, Tsutomu quickly establishes that if it weren’t for Mai, he’d gut Zuko, because Mai has told him everything.

I’m not sure this was a wise call on Mai’s part—the more people who know a secret, the harder it is to keep—but I understand why she did it. She knows that her uncle is loyal to her. She knows that he doesn’t like Zuko. It would feel safe to go to him with this. That and he has contacts who could help her.

“Zuko was glad Mai had him to support her through this. But the warden would have done his utmost to poison her against him”—You did that yourself, Zuko.

“But then, a man who lays with his sister and tries to kill his father, what would you know about [family]?”—Woof, yeah, Zuko is a walking Greek tragedy. I’m curious about what Hu Xin did to be considered an equivalent.

“And I’m not sure that’s something I can allow in my niece’s life, regardless of her wishes.”—Fair, but you can’t support Mai if you’re executed for committing treason and regicide, Tsutomu.

Zuko asks if Mai’s parents know, but Tsutomu dismisses the idea: “‘They still think you fucked that waterbender.’” I am slightly amused by the confusion there, but not amused by the warden calling Katara a “nubile little savage” right afterwards. Gross and racist, Tsutomu.

“Zuko could only stare at him, sick with the realization that Mai’s parents suspected he cheated on her, even if they didn’t know with whom. And they still treated Zuko better than their daughter.”—More evidence that monarchies and patriarchies are terrible. The warden acknowledges that, saying that Mai’s parents expect this sort of thing from a noble husband, and that they think that Mai should suck it up and make sure her son’s and her family’s futures are secure, rather than let her hurt feelings get in the way. Which the warden thinks is bullshit, and as much as I don’t like him, I agree with him.

“‘Be the man that she deserves,’” he tells Zuko, and I’m like, “You tell him, Scary Warden.”

Zuko goes to find Mai, who is still wearing her crown. “She wouldn’t if she meant to desert him, would she?”—Dude, she earned that. I wouldn’t give it up without a fight either. Like, I don’t like monarchies, and I’d set up a council if someone gave me a crown…but like hell if I’m giving up that crown! It’s shiny!

Mai has been waiting for him to approach her to talk. I don’t know if I’m supposed to find the bed exchange amusing, but—Mai, come on. The bed needed to go. How could you sleep in it again knowing that Azula was raped and impregnated there? No, let it burn. Throw some oil on it while you’re at it. There’s bad juju in that mattress. I don’t think making Lu Ten in that bed erased the aura of squick. Though also, Zuko, you should have offered her a different bed. Come on, my dude.

“‘Really?’ Mai sprang like the jaws of a trap snapping closed. ‘So you were thinking of me the whole time you were with her?’”—Yikes!

Mai continues to press him on why he slept with Azula, with him getting “unaccountable angry that she wouldn’t just accept his explanation.” She doesn’t buy that the fight spun out of control, though that was a part of what happened. But that isn’t why it happened. Zuko reveals the ugly truth of it: “‘She made me so angry [ . . . ] I just lost control.’”—Meaning that Zuko didn’t have sex with Azula because he loved her. He did it to punish her.

Mai then asks why Azula would sleep with Zuko, and Zuko tries to explain that it’s because Ozai abused Azula. Mai isn’t convinced by this—maybe she thinks that this is some kind of Morgana plot on Azula’s part—and doesn’t believe that Ozai would admit to the abuse, either.

“‘He just let it slip, in a moment of anger!’” Zuko says, to which Mai responds, “‘Really? Because that sounds a lot more like you.’”—Yes. Yes, Mai, Zuko and Ozai are very similar people. Similar explosive angers, similar self-centered natures, similar disregard for Azula’s personhood. Yes, you got it in one, even if you don’t realize it yet.

“‘You’re a fool if you think it ever happened.’”—This is so ugly. Mai, don’t be this person. Don’t be the person who thinks that the rape victim is lying.

“‘Because I know Azula, I know how she thinks [ . . . ] She makes you feel sorry for her, you give her want she wants. You let her bend again when she starved herself, maybe you’ll give her a royal pardon when it turns out Daddy fu—’”—Mai, I don’t think you’ve ever understood Azula. Not really. Right now, you sound like all of the Azula-haters out there, who see Azula as a conniving snake, rather than a deeply troubled girl. And honestly, when did Azula ever act weak to try to get what she wanted? And why would she want this story to be spreading about her? It will make everyone look at her differently. At best, they’ll pity her; at worst, they’ll find a way to blame her for what happened, or say that it served her right, even though she was a child.

Zuko raises a hand to strike Mai at this point, almost adding wife-beater to his sin list, but Mai intercepts him and tries to kiss and come onto him. When Zuko pushes her away, Mai asks him why he didn’t push Azula away, too—which HE SHOULD HAVE. Which he had opportunities to do! But he didn’t and he doesn’t know why.

Mai has a theory, though: “‘It wasn’t just the fight. You wanted her. You lusted after her. Your own sister. [ . . . ] You act like you caught some disease that impaired your judgement. [ . . . ] But people don’t do what you did without feeling that way for a long time. And you never said a word to me.”—I think Mai is correct here, though this doesn’t touch on how his resentment towards and his desire to dominate Azula pushed him over the edge. I also want to sit her down and say, “He didn’t know, so he couldn’t have told you,” because I don’t think that Zuko knew on a conscious level what he felt for Azula, besides anger. Also, Mai, would him telling you have made it better, somehow?

“‘You would never talk about her! I had no one I could talk to about her—’”—Ty Lee is glaring at you from the other side of the planet, Zuko.

Mai accuses Zuko of raping Azula, which he denies, but Mai asserts what I’ve been saying for chapters now: “‘If she was crazy, how could she give consent?’”—Thank you, Mai! Thank you for calling him out on this!

Mai wants to play the blame game, either having Azula or Zuko be entirely at fault for what happened. It’s not that simple, though. The truest answer here is probably Ozai—he’s the one who messed both of his children up—but at the same time, Zuko was in full control of his actions, unlike Azula. So we can’t and shouldn’t absolve him of responsibility.

As Mai starts to cry, Zuko tries to hug her, but she pushes him away. “‘I want my husband [ . . . ] I want the man who would never do this! I want the man I trusted!’”—This reflects the pain that people feel when they find out that one of their loved ones has abused someone, except without the denial that usually comes with it. It feels impossible to reconcile the person you thought you knew and cared about with who they’ve been revealed to be. As much as I don’t like how Mai demonizes Azula, I understand and feel for her here.

Zuko asks if this means that she won’t come back, but she clarifies that she will, with some conditions. After all, there’s Lu Ten to think of. “‘He asks for you every day.’ A tear dripped from her chin, and watching this, Zuko needed a moment to realize she was talking about their son.’”—Dude, think more about your son! You barely seem to!

Mai’s conditions are reasonable: Talk to her before telling their son about what’s going on. Give her her own quarters. Don’t come into them unless she summons him. Keep her in the loop about the search for Azula. She’ll probably have more requests in the future, but this is a good start.

We switch over to Aang and Katara, who are visiting Bumi in Omashu. Bumi captured Azula at one point and she escaped, which is what the pair are here to discuss with him. We get the detail that there are now bounty hunters looking for Azula, and that the people of the Fire Nation aren’t thrilled with the search.

“[Aang] began to realize that he was not these people’s hero. He wondered if Azula might be.”—Honestly, Aang? Yeah, she is. Their princess is the youngest firebender master in centuries, she has blue fire (which could be seen as a sign of Agni’s blessing), and she conquered Ba Sing Se with only two comrades, after their most famous general failed to. Iroh and Zuko are also, technically, traitors to the Fire Nation, since they defected and helped overthrow the king. This isn’t even touching on the dismantling of the Fire Nation’s military, the trials against many of the Fire Nation’s nobles and generals, or the massive amounts of reparations that Zuko has given to the other countries. Are these things, in the broader sense, justified? Of course. The Fire Nation’s imperialist regime brought 100 years of suffering to the world, suffering that is still fresh for the other countries. But from the perspective of the people of the Fire Nation, this looks like a deep betrayal from their leaders. The fact that the economy is tanking and the crops aren’t good must look like further signs that Zuko is bringing disaster onto the realm. Of course the people would look up to Azula instead. She brought them glory. Zuko is forcing them to feel shame. It’s little wonder that they prefer her to him.

Moving on. Bumi is apparently 117 years old now. I know that Kyoshi lived to 230, but this is still wild to me. It’s also wild that Bumi became the king of Omashu, considering that he was a commoner and is still illiterate. Not that there’s anything wrong with either of those things—I think that compassion is a much more important quality in a leader, and Bumi has that in spades—but I’m surprised that the Earth Kingdom allowed it. I have to assume his prodigious earthbending was part of what elevated him. I bet there’s a whole story there, which we’ll sadly never see.

Katara is offended to learn that Bumi shared a meal with Azula, but Bumi reminds her that he shared a meal with them, too, when they were prisoners. “It’s the little things that count, you know, Aang [ . . . ] Never forget that.”—Bumi knows how important kindness is, and probably suspects how little of it Azula has been shown in her life.

Bumi doesn’t buy that Azula is crazy and dismisses the danger she poses if angered: “‘Oh, all Fire Nation people are like that’”—Which is too much of a generalization for my tastes. He thinks that Iroh might be an exception, but given that Iroh breathed out flames at the suggestion that Zuko put Azula into an abusive environment, I’m not convinced.

When Bumi compares Azula to her “prince” brother, Aang worries that he might be going senile, but Bumi gently corrects him. They then get back to business—Bumi reveals that Azula stowed away in a cargo caravan and was caught by inspectors when she fell asleep. Aang is surprised by this, but Bumi reminds him that Azula was sick during her stay in Omashu. Azula was with Bumi for two days—god, I would have loved to see that—before he let her go. Aang and Katara are shocked and ask why. Bumi confides that he’s worried that Azula’s capture and death will lead to war, since Zuko threatened as much.

Aang and Katara don’t believe Bumi at first, with Aang going so far as to say, “‘He wouldn’t endanger [the peace] for personal concerns.’”—I’m sorry, Aang, but have you met Zuko? Family is super important to him, even if that family is dysfunctional. Katara understands, since she’s the girl who went on a revenge quest to murder her mother’s killer, but only stopped when she realized that the killer wasn’t worth damaging her soul over. But if Sokka’s life was on the line, you better believe that she would start a war for him. Katara is just as ruled by her emotions as Zuko is, and just as inclined toward dramatic gestures. Aang’s own culture works against him somewhat here, since it emphasizes the communal over blood relations (which are functionally erased, though there must have been someone keeping records of who was related to who, to avoid accidental incest). It makes it difficult for him to grasp how deep a bond with a family member can go, even one who you have a bad relationship with. Zuko and Azula are parts of each other’s identity, difficult though that is for both of them to accept.

Bumi points out that the Earth Kingdom is part of why he didn’t turn Azula over to the Fire Nation or Aang—the Earth Kingdom is more of a collection of countries in a trench-coat, rather than a single, organized government. If Omashu defied the wishes of Ba Sing Se by turning Azula over to safety, rather than to them, the people of Omashu would pay the price. We also learn that since Bumi outed himself as a White Lotus member, he hasn’t had access to privileged information, like Azula’s trial in absentia.

Regardless of who catches Azula, though, the Earth Kingdom sees it as a win. Either they catch and kill her and restore their honor, or Zuko shelters her from them and they can start a war over it—a war which would help them seize Fire Nation resources and recover from the occupation. Zuko has, apparently, suspended reparations to them.

Bumi adds that a war with the Earth Kingdom would be extremely difficult to fight: “‘A continent this vast supplies almost unlimited troops, and plenty of places to hide private armies. And our chain of command is more convoluted than the 52nd Earth King’s family tree.’” The technological gap between the Fire Nation and the Earth Kingdom has also been closing since the war ended, and with the Fire Nation’s military gutted, it would be challenge for them to get an edge on the Earth Kingdom again. Overall, our heroes are in a bind, but there’s still time for them to find a way out of it. Until Azula is captured, that is—that will force the issue.

At this point, some letters arrive. The Gaang, thinking that Azula went to Kyoshi Island to recruit Ty Lee, are relieved that Ty Le “refused.” In truth, Ty Lee would have gone with Azula, but Azula told her no, because she understands the pain that she caused Ty Lee by forcing her to choose between her friends, and doesn’t want to do that again. Zuko tells them that he’s going to Kyoshi Island himself to ask questions, and that they shouldn’t waste the trip, which they accept…but Aang is starting to feel like he can’t trust Zuko, which troubles him.

We cut to Zuko as he arrives on the island. It turns out that Kaede actually bought that Azula and Ty Lee were fighting, and gave Ty Lee some light work to cheer her up. Zuko thinks that maybe Azula told Ty Lee everything and that’s why she’s not acting like herself. I wish that Azula had told Ty Lee, since it would be good for her to have someone in her corner who knows what happened from her perspective. But I understand why Azula didn’t say anything—it’s a memory that causes her shame, she’s used to keeping stuff like this a secret, Ty Lee might have let it slip to someone else, and it would have driven a wedge between Ty Lee and her other friends, something Azula is being careful not to do. But even so, I wish Azula had someone who knew and was supporting her in the aftermath, rather than her carrying it on her shoulders alone. But Azula isn’t used to accepting help from others, especially with things that are this sensitive.

When Ty Lee and Zuko meet, Ty Lee says that she didn’t think that Zuko would want to see her, and Zuko contradicts this with, “‘We’re friends, aren’t we?’” I don’t think that is true, given how Zuko thinks about her and how dismissive he’s been to her in the past. Zuko tries to apologize for that, but Ty Lee is more upset about how he’s treated Azula than with how he’s treated her. Zuko gets to the point: he wants information about Azula, such as why she was crying. Ty Lee refuses to give him that info because it’s personal to Azula, which tells us that Ty Lee wouldn’t have shared what happened to Azula if Azula had told her.

When Zuko says that he’s just trying to help Azula, Ty Lee calls bullshit. “‘You’re just trying to help yourself! She never would have ran if she thought there was any chance of you ever letting her out! But you never saw her; you wouldn’t even answer her letters! [ . . . ] Even I could tell you just dropped her there to forget about her—”—So true, Ty Lee. Especially the part about him never seeing her, which works on both a literal and figurative level.

“‘I never forgot!” Zuko insists, but this is actually more damning. It suggests that he kept Azula there so he would always know where she was and have control over her life.

“‘You never helped her, either [ . . . ] I know she didn’t always treat you right. I know, because she hurt me too. [ . . . ] But that’s not all she was. She’s not a monster. [ . . . ] She feels remorse, and she can repay kindness with kindness. She’s just—seen so little of that, I don’t know if she knows what it looks like anymore.’”—Clearly Ty Lee dumped most of her character creation points into Wisdom (and Dexterity). She might not be cunning, but she understands people, Azula included, much better than most of the other characters do. She has a lot of empathy, which I deeply appreciate.

Interrupting their conversation, though, June the bounty hunter storms into the clearing, with her shirsu paralyzing Ty Lee with a lash of its tongue. And that brings us to the end of another chapter! As always, thank you for the read, Aurelia!

Sincerely,

WiseAbsol

#Dominion by Aurelia le #Azula #avatar: the last airbender #Fanfiction #Review #WiseAbsol

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exit-path · 4 years ago

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DO NOT READ THIS POST.

Below is a long rant I’ve had about life and death. I’ve wanted it on the Internet. So that, ya know people can read it. But I also don’t want people to read it. Potential mental scarring, and all that.

So if you wanna get the rest of your Daily Tumblr Experience (tm), keep scrolling. But if you want to have a SUPER out-of-body experience, “Keep reading.”

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

So wait, this is it?

After you learn all the languages you know now, after you’re taught everything in school you remember, after you read all the books and hear all the stories...

This is it?

That’s everything? Your toolbox to brave the world. That’s all you get?

You’re gonna have all this until the day you die. You know that, right? This is pretty much all you’re ever gonna get, forever.

You know you only have one life. After this, you can’t try again. You get no second chances.

But I want more! Why can’t get more? Why does learning new things only get harder with age?

You’re never gonna truly experience anything besides what you’re currently experiencing. Sure, you can imagine, and you can daydream and come up with full-on stories in your mind, but truth is, you’re never actually gonna leave your current story. It’s all been one straight line.

We are trapped in the mortal realm. If you were born a man, and you wanted to be a woman, then even through all the wishes in the world, you could never truly become a woman. Baseless wishes do nothing, after all. But you can get close. If you see a man trying as hard as they can to be a woman, because they really wanted to, and they did a really good job, then please cheer them on. They are doing as close an act to defying the impossible.

So wishes don’t work. You will never experience anything outside of the life you’re currently living. So make the most of it. And embrace new actions taken. Because they do what wishes can’t: they work.

This all still feels so empty. I’m so lost. It feels so bleak, and it’s cold and dark down here. I’m currently getting therapy, but I want happiness. Happiness that lasts. Like, an hour.

Can anything solve this? Like, death anxiety. Can anything fix death anxiety? Because it’s a really shitty thing to be afraid of. It’s a phobia that, by definition, is chronic. If you’re afraid of death, and you’re eventually gonna die, then you’ll be panicking your whole life.

That seems like a really shitty way to live life. I don’t want to live like that! Please! I want to be liberated from my chronic anxiety! I don’t want to die!

How did you discover this? Do you know me? Did you find this? Did I show you this? Or did you not discover this? Will this be forgotten about, buried under all the other posts on this platform? Every time I make a new post, am I burying this one a foot deeper? Will no mortal eyes ever gaze upon this post ever again?

And this all came with no warning! Back on my main blog, I’ve posted nothing about my recent thanatophobia! Okay, well maybe I posted something about anxiety and stuff like that, but nothing like this. I’m scared!

I really hope I don’t delete this. There’s a really good chance I won’t. I want this to be out in the world. If only for a moment, I want this post to breathe.

When Tumblr shuts down, even if it’s after my lifetime, this post will go with it. And when the universe dies in a trillion years, everything will go with it. Why did some astronomist figure that out? How much alcohol do they drink?

It is Friday, June 12th, 2020. I dunno why I date things. I hope some day in the future, I can come back to old stuff and know exactly when I brought it into existence. Or maybe dating things is for satisfaction in the moment. Maybe I date things to look at it over time while I can still constantly see it: two days, three days, two weeks, three months, a year. A year? Wow, that’s a long time! And what about decades-old things? Centuries-old? Nah, I won’t think about that. That’s outside of a human lifetime.

I don’t get why people have existential crises. Like, you’re worrying about how people will remember you after you’re gone? What’s the point in that? Do you have so much sympathy that you care about it miles over your own mortality? Also, you’d end up in a similar situation to thanatophobia! You’d end up constantly worry, with every waking moment, whether your actions are making an impact on the world. Like, what’s the point in that? Just live life!

Will I ever share this? I hope I do. In fact, I hope I share it to my main blog too. I hope I share it with one of those “Keep Reading” tags that I see elsewhere on Tumblr, when the person has a bunch to things or extra words that they wanna keep behind a wall of sorts so no one’s constantly terrorized by a wall of text. I hope I figure out how to do that in time.

Also, am I getting deja vu of this very moment? Like, I’m not even done writing all this! How am I remembering something that hasn’t even finished yet? Is my memory really that bad?

I’m worried my memory will be the bane of me. I’m worried that in the end, I’ll remember very little, because I know so much more, and I’ll regret remembering so little. That would be a horrible way to die. Regret? I don’t want to feel regret on my deathbed!

I’ve thought in the past that when I grow up, and I become rich enough to own things, then I should hire a transcriber to follow me around everywhere I go and transcribe everything I say. That way, every thing I say can be written down. All my information will be on paper. Nothing will be as short-lived as the wind that takes my words away. That way, there might be a chance that even some of the more elusive words I say, perhaps the most beautiful quotes I utter that are completely unfathomable today, can survive longer than me. So nothing is lost to time.

When I was five, I had a dream. Maybe it was a nightmare. Maybe I made a post about this already. If so, then that’s scary, because I don’t remember that. I don’t like not remembering things. But anyways, I had a dream. I was standing on top of a light pole. You know those white lamp poles in New York City? The ones that curve like a hook onto the road? Yeah, I was standing on top of one of those. Somehow. I dunno how it could have supported my weight. And there were three pigeons. Three New York pigeons. Pretty slim, not like the big meaty ones you find sometimes. And the pigeons on the light pole next to me. They were closer to the pole, and I was closer to the light. I know they were exactly three pigeons. Not so sure about their placement, actually. In fact, I’m not so sure about my age at the time. Anyways, the pigeons flew away. And I jumped. I jumped from the top of the light pole. And I hit the asphalt. And I woke up, probably in a cold sweat. My heart was beating really fast. I woke up immediate before I hit the asphalt. I had felt the wind whizzing by my face. So that was the whole dream. I was on a light pole, there were three pigeons, they flew away, I jumped off the light pole, died on impact with the road, and woke up immediately before the dying part.

I feel like it’s almost like a prophecy, that eventually, that’s how I’m gonna die. That’s the clip of how I died. That I would commit suicide from the top of a light pole. And I don’t want to die that way! I don’t want to commit suicide! Life is precious! I want to die of old age, not of my own doing, fulfilling some “prophecy” that I was never told in words! That would really suck. Then again, it’s probably never going to happen. With as outlandish a story as that, I’m probably never gonna die that way. That lifts my spirits.

I’m so glad I could eventually get all these things down somewhere. Especially the “dream at five years old” part. I’m sixteen years old. I had constantly worried about how I would eventually get these thoughts down on paper somewhere. Yeah, it had always been in the back of my head. All. This. Time. It sucks, but I think I finally got it done, I think.

I didn’t want to keep this to myself, or put it in a diary entry or anything like that, because I don’t believe in privacy. Yeah sure, there are some things you keep to yourself, touchy subjects like masturbation, and if you’re lucky, you can go your whole life without a secret being told, and it dies with you on your deathbed. But I personally believe those should only be the rare cases. At least, they should. Because I’ve been growing up in a world full of information. All of human knowledge is at my fingertips, and it’s called “Wikipedia”. But still, it’s had I’d say a pretty big impact on how I view information. Information should just be out there in the world, ready for anyone to read and critique. So I’d never own a diary. To have that much information and to know no one else is looking at it would be painful. And I know that sounds counterintuitive, like how can you be scared when people are being not nosy, but that’s just my worldview. Yours can be different.

Well that’s our show for tonight, folks! Stay safe out there. And remember, you only live once.

#serious #serious tw #death tw #life tw #what tags do i use for a topic so strong #future tag

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romansleftshoulderpad · 6 years ago

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Barren: Chapter 5

Hey guys! Back from hiatus and I’m sorry for the wait! I’ll be going back to consistent posting but instead of once a week, I’ll be posting every other Saturday! Thank you all for your support it means the world to me!

Words: 1,681

Warnings: Caps, swearing, somewhat graphic panic attack, mentions of death, very vague allusion to suicide (blink and you’ll miss it.)

Tags: @fandermom @astral-eclipse @patheticlilkiddo @a-pastel-pan @honeysucklingz @dr-gloom @cloudedskies29 @quietwords-loudthoughts @mentallytiredgoat @merlybird500

Previous / Next

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“Thank you, Dr. Picani,” Virgil said, absentmindedly clicking the buttons of a fidget cube that Picani had given him.

“My patients call me Dr. Picani. My friends call me Emile,” the therapist said with a smile.

“Right, well, Emile,” Virgil said, “thank you.”

“Of course,” Emile said. “Though I suppose I should be checking in on Logan. We haven’t heard from Patton in quite some time.”

“Oh, here,” Virgil said, offering the cube back to Emile, his bare wrist poking out from his jacket. Emile smiled and closed Virgil’s fingers around the hard plastic.

“I have plenty in my office,” he said. “You should keep this one. They’re quite handy and you seem like you’ll need it.”

Virgil smiled softly to himself in the dimly lit room as Emile shut the door behind himself. He took a deep breath, focusing only on applying and releasing pressure from the buttons. There was so much he had to learn and adjust to. Sure, Emile had certainly helped, but he still had to meet Patton and Remy. He had to see if Logan was okay. He pressed his thumb against a soft red button. He didn’t even know what to think of Roman. He released his thumb. He took a deep breath. It’s dinner. If I could survive being shot at, I can live through dinner. If I can live through this, I can do anything.

He crept from the room slowly, the acidic smell of tomato sauce roaming through the air and battling the sizzling sound of meat to encapture Virgil’s senses. As his stomach rumbled he realized that he hadn’t eaten a proper meal in nearly a week. “Ah, well speak of the devil,” Roman said with a smirk painted with bravado. Virgil almost didn’t notice the pure exhaustion in his eyes. “We were just talking about how bold and daring I was to rescue you.”

Virgil cocked an eyebrow at him. “Oh yeah? Then why did Logan do all the work?”

“OH! OH, Gurl, he just roasted yo’ ass!” Remy yelled, howling with laughter in the kitchen. Roman rolled his eyes, glaring daggers at Remy.

“Well I see you’re on his good side already,” Roman muttered, gesturing with his hands as he spoke. His sleeves rolled up just enough for Virgil to notice the lines that decorated his wrist.

“You aren’t Barren?” Virgil asked, feeling as if he were in a parallel world.

Roman offered a smile as he tugged up his sleeve. “The only ones who aren’t Barren,” he said, pointing to Remy and Emile, “are these two.”

“So, it’s a tattoo?” Virgil asked.

“Catching on quickly I see,” Roman teased, holding up his wrist to allow Virgil a better look. “Very realistic, if you ask me. Patton deserves all the credit for that. We grew up together,” he explained. “We’re both Barren. We had to be each other’s closest ally. The day we turned 18 we...” Roman smiled. “Well, I guess that’s a story for another time.”

“So Patton is some kind of doctoring tattoo artist badass?” Virgil asked.

“Oh, Roman, what are you telling the poor kiddo?” a man asked. Virgil spun around on his heel to face a man in khaki pants and a blue sweater that seemed to envelop his entire body.

“Patton!” Roman said with a smile, all the agony fading from his dim eyes as they brightened upon the sight of the man. “Is Logan okay?” he asked before turning to Virgil and commenting, “Not that I care about the nerd or anything. In all honesty, I think he’s being overdramatic.”

“Hypocrite,” Remy commented as he placed silverware on the table.

“He should have a perfectly fine recovery,” Patton said with a smile. “Though, he won’t be joining us for dinner; he really needs the rest right now and- Oh! How rude of me!” He stepped forward with a hand extended outwardly. “You’re Virgil, correct? I’m Patton!”

“He’s our patented Man of Many Talents around here,” Roman explained.

“Heh, Patton-ted,” Patton chuckled to himself.

“Ever need a doc,” Roman said. “Patton’s your guy. Also a great tattoo artist, chef, and cuddle-buddy.”

“Cuddle-buddy?” Virgil parotted.

“I share chef duties with Emile,” Patton explained. “And Roman gets nightmares.”

“Do not!” Roman yelled defensively. “How dare you slander my great name!” Patton chuckled, lovingly patting Roman’s shoulder as he wordlessly made his way to the kitchen.

“I presume the nightmares are a lie, then?” Virgil asked with a smirk.

“Fake soulmate,” was all Roman muttered before abandoning the conversation in exchange for setting the table. Virgil watched the bustle around him. Patton and Emile finishing their work in the kitchen. Roman balancing plates and silverware in his arms as he scolded Remy for slacking. They were all working together. They were a team, working together as a small organized pod. Virgil was literally and metaphorically an outsider. He felt a pain in his stomach. Five senses. He had to work through his senses. Five things he could see. That was simple enough, right?

He could see Emile. He could see Roman. But he couldn’t see any windows. He couldn’t see Logan. He couldn’t see his mom. Okay, maybe sight wasn’t a great starting place.

Smell. What could he smell? He could smell tomatoes. He could almost smell blood. Was it from the medical room? Was it from Logan? Was it his imagination? The smell of rust was killing his head and his stomach. Was he nauseated? Was he hungry? Was his stomach even filled enough to vomit anything at all?

No. No. Air comes in; bad thoughts go out. In comes morning; out goes nightmares. What exactly had that phrase been that his mother had taught him so long ago? His mother, oh no, what was she thinking? Did she know Virgil had escaped? Did she think him dead?

Would she be okay or did years of loss after loss finally break her?

Would Virgil even have a mother to come back to?

Would he come back at all?

He let his feet carry him all on their own until he was sprinting out of the kitchen and to a cold wooden door. He ripped it open, slammed it shut, and pushed his back against it as he slowly let himself fall to the ground. The horrible feeling in his chest of a boa constrictor around his lungs had him gasping for air and he was sure he was having a heart attack.

“Deep breaths, Virgil,” a voice said. “Focus solely on your breathing, and don’t let your thoughts get in the way.”

Virgil tried to take the advice- honestly, he did try- but it was too much. It was too overwhelming. He couldn’t focus. His head was filling with this horrible tingling and the more he gasped for air the worse it got. He held his head in his hands and oh God why was this happening?

“Virgil, I need you to listen to me,” the voice said. It was soft and gentle, the most soothing thing Virgil had heard in years. He felt hands on his shoulders and if he had to energy to he would have looked up at the person in front of him. “Can you hear my voice? More importantly, can you understand my voice?”

“Mmhmm,” Virgil mumbled out.

“Good, good, that’s a step. You’re doing good, Virgil. Just keep taking deep breaths alright?”

He felt the tingly feeling start to leave his face, though it was still uncomfortably present in his fingers and hands. He felt his heart rate start to become more noticeable which he guess was a better option than the crushing feeling of his lungs only moments earlier.

“I’m gonna walk you through a breathing exercise, all right? I’ll do it with you. You’ll be okay.” Virgil nodded. “I want you to breathe in for four seconds. Hold for seven seconds. Then, breathe out for eight seconds. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes,” Virgil mumbled out weakly.

“Perfect.”

The two of them went through the exercise two- three- four times before Virgil felt like himself again. He finally looked up and saw Logan staring back at him. “Logan, I- You should be in bed, oh I’m so sorry I didn’t-”

“Virgil, you’re going to work yourself up again,” he said calmly. “I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?” Virgil asked, eyes drawn down to the gauze around Logan’s body.

“Of course I will be,” Logan said. “This isn’t my first metaphorical rodeo and, if there’s one thing Roman and I agree on, it’s that we both put our trust and lives in Patton’s hands.”

“I’m still not entirely sure what to think of all this,” Virgil admitted.

“That was the reaction I expected from you,” Logan said. “Your admittance here is temporary, most of whom we rescue go off to meet with colleagues of ours. They’re given new homes and new identities in the best cases. Others eventually join our organization, but I’m sure that we’ll find you in the former half on that ratio. 18, right? Yes, you have so much potential ahead of you.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Virgil said. “Organization? And how do you know my age? What else do you know about me?”

“Virgil, did you think all of this was really put together by five guys in their twenties?” Logan asked, the corners of his lips turning upwards subtly.

“Well, I- I guess not, but-”

“And as for the other questions, well, I like to be prepared.” Logan stood, motioning for Virgil to do the same. He had a rather wiry structure, but well-toned muscles that Virgil could only assume he had built up from doing this job for so long. “Now, you should really be on your way back to dinner. The others will be looking for you soon.”

“But, wait, what about-” Virgil tried to speak but found himself being pulled out of the room by magnets on his feet.

“Goodbye, Virgil.”

The door was shut in his face, and the high school senior now had more questions than answers.

#Barren #LAMP #2019 fic

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stupidstubbornbravebitchoftarth · 5 years ago

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Sorry if this is a bit depressing but I just had the most horrible thought & need to vent. We know that GRRM told D&D about some characters’ endings - what if the ending he told them for Jaime was that he and Cersei die together??? And 8x05 was D&Ds Interpretation of that (it was shit and I hated it) but what if it was partly true?? I’m legit panicking rn, I cried for weeks after season 8 finished bc I couldn’t cope I have no idea what I’ll do if Jaime somehow dies with Cersei in the books too..

I know what you feel like and every once in awhile I get depressed about that too. But I am also pretty good at envisioning Brienne and Jaime on Tarth, teaching their little baby girl how to fight with a sword, while the sun sets over dark green meadows and the sapphire blue waters and they are at peace at last – it helps.

Disclaimer my knowledge about the whole GRRM vs. Dumb&Dumber debacle is very superficial – so what I am gonna tell you now is mostly what I can remember having read in other people’s posts lmao.

So for starters I believe having read somewhere that GRRM has been less and less involved in the actual writing process of the show BC he finally started working on the books. Praise God, She is too kind. He actually said he is kind of sorry for it but work e.g books caught up to him and it seemed like he didn’t even like the ending for the show (see the post where people compared his reaction to Marvel’s Endgame vs. The Reaction to his own show – it’s somewhere on my blog but I can’t Tag for shit so yeah just Google it it’s probably faster …. )

So for me that COULD mean that he was less and less contact with the writers and honestly maybe he actually wrote some of what he told D&D but then changed his mind and wrote other endings without telling D&D because a) he felt like it b) it’s his work c) probably thought D&D were fucking incompetent d) it was too late anyway

Also I just think that if he really kills Jaime off, which is always possible but I don’t think is going to happen, it will be way more justified death, a just death not some fucking bricks. Like we know he is looking at Jaime and Brienne as a Beauty and the Beast retelling and Cersei is not of that much importance to him and he literally said that Jaime and Cersei’s relationship disgusts him or something along the lines of that. So I really cannot come up with a lot off GRRM worthy scenarios of Jaime dying with his sister other than maybe he will have to sacrifice his life to take her down or some shit but that is boring … in my opinion. Like I just don’t see a realistic ending that involves both of them dying at the same time for the simple reason that in the books Jaime is way more important than Cersei and I, personally wouldn’t sacrifice such a multifaced character like Jaime for a probably very funny to write but sometimes rather one dimensional alcoholic maniac, powerhungry villainess … like Jaime’s redemption arc is far from complete but Cersei’s plot? Idk I am not that far in the books yet but to me it seems like all signs are pointed towards her demise. Again it’s ASOIAF so GRRM could probably still find a way to redeem her or whatever but I don’t really see the point in it. I always felt like he is writing Jaime and Cersei in a way that, as the story goes on, reveals that they in fact don’t mirror each other but are polar opposites actually pulling away from each other e.g the further Jaime heads towards redemption “the path of light” if you wanna say it like that, the further Cersei heads towards darkness and the only way they are equal can be found in the intensity their characters are involving, showing that House Lannister can be a force of evil and a force of good in equal measure or something going into that direction – it’s just a feeling though.

Also several prophecies and dreams are still unexplained and unresolved as far as I know like why is homeboy dreaming of naked Brienne with a sword in her hand – other than the fact that he is utterly and eternally in love with her

Why are literally all of their dreams revolving around each other

And, this is something I think about at least 435 times a day – D&D are fucking illiterate. While Gwendoline Christie does an amazing, incredible, showstopping, Oscar worty portrayal of everybody’s favorite highborn Ser fucking Brienne of Tarth – D&D’s interpretation of Brienne is …. well the thing you would excpect from two white dudes. They completly left out one part of Brienne which makes her so dear to many – the soft side, the femine side of her, the romantic side. While she is the best fighter in Westeros, that’s not all she is and wants to be. Like tons of better analysts and writers pointed out – People tend to forget that she a) is a HIGHBORN LADY b) had to become a swordswomen to somehow make it in the Patriachy she is living in – which with her being deemed as ugly is even more of hellish nightmare. She didn’t really see another option other than becoming a Knight because everything else would have meant a lifelong endurance of humilation and submission. So at 16 she said, Fuck it, I will FIGHT any man who wants to oppress me for the rest of my life, AND SO SHE DID. Her other option would have been eternal unhappiness and marriage to a man like four times her age. She became who she is because she had to. Unlike Arya who always hated being Lady however, Brienne is in someways way more similar to Sansa – both of them believe in tales of knights in shining amour that save maidens. Like as far as I can remember Brienne doesn’t hate being a Lady – she hates how she is being treated for it, THAT being said I think D&D failed to portray the overwhelming amount of that Brienne, so I am not very convinced that D&D truly interpreted and wrote things in the final episode the way GRRM would have – I mean look at the script lmao.

Also one way Jaime Lannister could potentially DIE is in a not literal way. Like the Death of Jaime Lannister could also be him becoming Jaime of Tarth? “Dying” in the arms of the woman he loves? – When he sleeps with Brienne for the first time on their wedding night or at least for the first time ( I mean having sex pretty much equals marriage in their world and they are both big softies so….) Or him “dying” by doing something extremly heroic therefore complety parting ways with the arrogant, the “evil” character parts of him (obessed with Cersei etc.) , signaling the completion of his redemption arc – like idk he slays a dragon for the lack of a better example so “Kingslayer” dies but “Dragonslayer” lives on. Like I am 90% sure the Kingslayer part of him is going to die and the Oathkeeper lives on.

Also what happens in Beauty and the Beast? The beast dies – or so we think. What if Jaime pulls a Jon and gets murdered and then revived. Honestly we really don’t know how D&D interpreted what GRRM told them.

To sum up

Yeah, Cersei and Jaime could probably end up dying together again and I would probably never know happiness again. Anything is still possible and everybody is entitled to their theories until the books come out and prove all of us wrong anyway. I personally don’t think it is going to happen I am just willing to believe that GRRM is a better writer than D&D and that is not very hard. For one, Cersei is not THAT important, Jaime’s redemption arc is unfinished and several prophecies unexplained. Jaime and Brienne’s arcs are connected and killing one or both of them of would be an extreme huge loss of unique and multifaceted characters as well as potential for the overall history, and also I think hard to pull of. I personally wouldn’t worry that much because yes Jaime could get killed off but if GRRM decided to do that it will make sense. The thing that made me so fucking depressed over Jaimes death is first and foremost the way he left Brienne which book!Jaime would simply not do and even for show Jaime it was soooo fucking out of character that I refuse to believe D&D even watched the other three episodes of Season 8. Like I just refuse to believe that GRRM would even write something like 8x4. Jaime’s death would make me sad because rarely I think you really need to kill a character to tell a good story but at least I know that book!Jaime is going out with a bang not a brick. Also there are not a lot of signs (if any ??) pointing toward Jaime’s death, most signs and prophecies can be interpreted in tons of different ways. Nothing is certain.

If it were upto me he would die in the Epilogue as an old man in the arms of Brienne surrouned by their kids and grandkids. In peace.

So if I were you I would stay out of the theory rabbithole as much as possible. I didn’t join the Jaime Lannister is Alive Clown Club for nothing. Just snuggle up with some snacks and the fluffiest and/or smuttiest Braime fic and have a good time.

Always remember Jaime and Brienne are chilling in the meadows of Tarth, having told the rest of the realm to kindly fuck off unless they are absolutely certain that it will be necessary to call Jaime “ Oathkeeper” of Tarth and a very pregnant Ser Brienne of Tarth to fight whatever creature from the Seven Hells was unleashed onto Westeros now. The only visitors allowed are the Stark Kids. Somewhere in the background Pod is somehow getting chased by a giant dog that stole his sword. The End.

#anon #Braime #that is all i can offer #brienne x jaime #game of thrones

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words-writ-in-starlight · 5 years ago

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aeondeug replied to your post

“Tag Game: Post the last sentence you wrote and tag as many people as...”

MASS EFFECTYRATH???

So when I play ME sometimes my partner hangs out in my room with me and I commentate to him, and he was hanging out with me while I was doing the Reaper IFF mission in ME2. And if you click around during that mission you can find the journal fragments from the scientists who boarded the dead Reaper and fell under its indoctrination, which features one of the most DOWNRIGHT CHILLING lines of the entire series: "Chandana said the ship was dead....but even a dead god can dream. A god--a real god--is a verb....it's a force. It warps reality just by being there. It doesn't have to want to. It doesn't have to think about it. It just does."

And I paused the game, abominations and husks all over my team, and turned to my partner who knew nothing about the Kencyrath, and said very intensely "I AM GOING TO WRITE A KENCYRATH AU OF THIS WHERE TORI IS SHEPARD AND THE REAPERS ARE PERIMAL DARKLING AND JAME IS THE VANGUARD OF THEIR INVASION WHO BROKE FREE AND RAN, AND I AM GOING TO TITLE IT 'EVEN DEAD GODS DREAM'"

And now I am doing exactly that. Some high points below the cut, in which I approach Mass Effect canon with my usual tender disregard for the rules and Kencyrath with an uncommon disregard for spoilers.

High Councillor Gerridon was one of a long-extinct, broadly human-like alien species, looked to as brilliant scientists and the creators of the mass relays and the Citadel by the current Council races. His people, the Shanir, were wiped from existence mysteriously about fifty thousand years ago, and no one knows why. The truth of the matter is that Gerridon betrayed the previous Citadel to the Reapers in return for immortality. He sort of got it--he's the heart of the Master, a Reaper made from the genetic material of his people. Jamethiel Dream-weaver was his twin and consort, who aided him in the annihilation of the Citadel and everyone aboard by using her species' natural biotic abilities to hold the entire populace in thrall until the Reapers came. For this service, and for the potential she showed to be a weapon in future cycles, she was spared. However, this massive expenditure of power began to erode her control over her abilities, and in turn her mind, and so Jamethiel was placed in stasis when it became too much for her to bear, until the next cycle came to an end and the Master decided to try a new method of harvest.

The new method of harvesting a cycle is named Jamethiel, for her mother, and when she's seven years old, the blood of her mother's ancient race finally comes to full bloom. Jame sees her father, the disgraced general of the First Contact War who has been court martialed and drummed out of the Alliance for his recklessness that obliterated the Fifth Fleet, point a gun at her nursemaid's head, and without help, without an implant, without anything, she throws up a suddenly clawed hand and hurls Ganth into a bulkhead with a biotic shove. The explosion of power is gone as quickly as it appears, and when Ganth picks himself up, he drives his daughter out into the void in an escape pod. Aliens are less than animals, in Ganth's opinion, and while lashing out against him might be an unforgivable betrayal, it's the new, strange claws on Jame's hands that earns her exile.

Jame hasn't lost all her memories entirely, although they're horrifically hazy for the first decade and change after her escape pod is lost in the black. Something about indoctrination at such a young age seems to have eaten away her ability to form memories at the time, although she's retained quite a few skills whose origins she's not quite sure of. Somewhere in that fuzzy time period, she was given a biotic implant lightyears more advanced than anything the Council races can boast, so that she could focus her abilities with more ease--the splice of human and Shanir is dicey at times, and she seems to have gotten all the power and none of the biological road blocks that would normally keep her from becoming a living supernova. It took a long time, the labor of years, for Jame to pull herself out of the endless black water of indoctrination. One breath at a time, building biotic walls around herself. It was impossible. She did it anyway. Then she heard that the latest cycle was almost ready for harvest....

Back on Ganth's ship of exile, Torisen grows up. People die. Torisen is not a biotic, is not an alien, is nothing like his sister. He is a loyal and obedient son. Until he's not. Torisen Talissen, possessing the clothes on his back and not a single credit more, finds the turians before he finds the Alliance, and it's Primarch Adric Ardeth who sees to it that this young boy doesn't starve before he's old enough to become a soldier. It's also Primarch Ardeth who gets him into the Alliance. There are more strings on that arrangement than Torisen knows.

His father's name is Torisen Talissen's greatest secret, when he finally reaches Earth, the Alliance, because Ganth Knorth is a war criminal whose methods in the First Contact War were notoriously brutal, whose final stand with the Fifth Fleet cost thousands upon thousands of lives and left every ship under his command shattered and drifting. Only a small handful of his commanders know the truth, and then Torisen is hand-selected for N-7 and half his life is classified anyway. He's not a biotic, he's not an alien, he's a good soldier and the most stubborn bastard any of his comrades have ever seen, and the mystery of where he came from fades under the glamour of his exploits. The Urakarn colony is the one everyone knows about. No one questions why Torisen fights tooth and nail to take Burr, his most trusted lieutenant, and Rowan, the medic he dragged from the sand, everywhere with him, after Urakarn. Even when he's assigned as XO on the Gothregor, second in command to Captain Sheth Sharptongue, they go with him.

On the Gothregor's maiden voyage, they're assigned to Spectre Ashe, no last name given, an asari that Torisen knows as a friend of a friend (the friend is Harn, he's already on board because Ashe requested some muscle), and orders to take her to Eden Prime.

While the Gothregor plots her jump to the first mass relay, Jame steals a data chip and her armor and the first assault rifle she gets her hands on, and runs, not stopping even when she blunders into a Beacon that the Master has been experimenting with. Her shuttle's navigation doesn't survive her rather explosive escape from the Master, so she slaves the thing to the first geth ship she sees and hopes for the best.

The geth ship is headed for Eden Prime.

Other highlights:

Tori actually super is a biotic, don't tell him, Shanir bloodlines allow limited biotic use without an implant and he's been unintentionally using it for years

I wanted Harn to be the captain of the Gothregor before she's given to Tori, but then I realized that the Best Outcome here is that Harn and Marc are both krogans but on diametrically opposed ends of the Self Control Spectrum. Harn is your classic krogan berserker, Marc is a really good cook who is also prepared to fuck you up with a shotgun if you mess with Jame. Also I just. Really love Sheth and wanted him to be here.

Pereden is Saren, the Ardeths are all turians, you know I'm right

Torisen is the first human Spectre

The first narrative arc here (the contents of the first game) mostly feature Tori's in-group as squad mates, ft:

Lt Burr, a sniper/assault rifle specialist

Kirien J'ran, an asari biotic who specializes in the history of the Shanir

Harn Griphard, a krogan mercenary whose record is actually pretty legit, shotgun specialist and berserker

Lt Cmdr Donkerri Caineron, disgraced grandson of an Alliance admiral, assigned to the Gothregor as a spy, pistol/shotgun specialist, he dies on Virmire

Grimly nar Weald, an upbeat quarian machinist, a friend of Tori's who's been on his Pilgrimage for a bit, a shotgun/tech specialist

Not a squadmate, but in the whole first arc the pilot of the ship is very quiet and unwilling to talk but over the course of the narrative Bel-tairi warms up to people a little

Jame is not a squadmate, she and Tori are both main characters in the first arc and if this was a game you'd have to take both always, but Jame is a biotic powerhouse and Tori is an assault rifle/melee specialist, don't question me

Tori and Jame stop Sovereign the Horde and still no one believes them about the Reapers, even though they make Torisen a whole-ass Council member and Jame a whole-ass Spectre (she doesn't even HAVE a military rank, she's not even PART of the Alliance, everyone on her ship calls her "boss" or "Jame")

It somehow does not improve things, re: Jame and Tori's relationship, to be more or less imprisoned on a ship together fighting the geth, and they'd die for each other but also everyone learns real quick to keep their heads down when they start fighting, until....

The Gothregor is destroyed not long after the Horde, and Jame Knorth (Tori and Jame take their real last name again, after everything, might as well redeem the family line while they're at it) is one of the casualties, killed saving Bel-tairi. Tori has two years to become intimately familiar with the fact that he may, actually, have fucked up. Then his sister shows up in his office with a new ship called the Tagmeth, new scars lacing her face and shoulder, and new horrible information about the fate of the galaxy.

Admiral Caineron is not actually running nearly as much as he thinks he is, he is being puppeteered by Matriarch Rawneth of the asari, but he's the one bankrolling the Tentir program and technically speaking Brier and Rue are his spies. In the second arc, squadmates include:

Marcarn, an unnaturally calm krogan mercenary who's an intermittent presence in the first game and takes an intense interest in making sure Jame eats regular meals, shotgun specialist and Local Tank

Brier Ironthorn, genetically engineered perfect soldier, stolen from her father by her mother at a young age, orphaned not that much later (Tori brought her mother’s tags back to her), Tentir officer assigned as Jame's XO who turns on Caineron pretty quick-like, biotic mostly specializing in your standard push/lift/slam assortment rather than Jame's more intense reave/warp/singularity skillset, she refused to place a control chip in Jame's implant during the resurrection

Rue Mindrear, Tentir officer and self-appointed quartermaster of the Tagmeth because Jame has no idea what she's doing, assault rifle/tech specialist

Bane, ex-prisoner with unusually erratic biotic abilities (Jack, okay, he's Jack, Ishtier tried to replicate legends of Shanir biotic powers and Bane hates/loves Jame enormously even before they figure out that they're related, he dies on the suicide run no matter what)

Grimly again, he and Jame are kinda tight by now and she politely pretends not to know that he's keeping Tori elaborately posted on their activities

Timmon Ardeth, grandson of the Primarch, looking to prove his father's ultimate innocence, sniper/electronics specialist, insufferable due to constantly hitting on Jame

Kindrie Walker, not a squadmate but the new medic, who grows a spine over the course of a year of yelling at Jame to sit down and let him look at her broken ribs, Rowan got a job at Huerta so she could be close to Torisen

Aerulan, a geth mobile platform named after the quarian word for Legion, sniper/electronics specialist

Probably some other people but Jesus this is long already

Tori comes back to the Tagmeth for the third arc, after the Reapers start to hit hard, because he's in some minor-to-moderate hot water with the Council on account of using his accesses to help Bel steal the Tagmeth and break his sister out of her own trial. This is also where they finally get to make full use of the datachip Jame stole waaaaaay back at the beginning, because the Reapers are here and she is the only person in the galaxy who has a record of previous cycles, including some odd schematics they can’t unravel.

They find a Shanir in stasis, his name is Terribend, and while he's too weak to fight for them, he might be able to help decode some of those schematics...especially the one labeled as the Ivory Knife.

The third game includes a Greatest Hits squad assembly of those left living and also features Jame and Tori actually functionally working together for once.

Um...I have no idea if I'll ever write this whole thing because I’m realizing it would be forty bazillion words, but I'll probably yeet snippets of it into the void from time to time.

#aeondeug #replies #mass effect #kencyrath #mass effectyrath #me: 'i'll just write a quick rundown of what i'm picturing'#LITERALLY TWO THOUSAND WORDS LATER #anyway yeah i'm writing A Scene right now #(it's jame and burr waiting for tori to wake up after his first encounter with a beacon)#but YEAH anyway jame and tori are both shepard and they mutually save the galaxy #i impulsively finished this massive write-up because (you guessed it) i have feelings after reading by demons possessed!#take it away from me #if you want any SPECIFIC scenes from this i would be happy to fill specific requests but otherwise idk #i'll just write whatever my little heart craves most from it #(......what my heart craves most is tori getting the report about the gothregor)#(proooooobably gonna write that one)#(ANGST! HELL! NOW!)#(i'm very tired because i slept terribly so my brain just spat out 'my tyr-ridan my tyr-ridan and me')#(mtmtam? MUH-TIM-TAM????)#(please stop me)#(i'm a monster)#queue deeper than the sea of stars

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