#[ going back through my old blog for inspo stuff keeps revealing the good gems... ]

[requie-blog]

   right, so, old meta from old blog, but honestly i can’t see myself writing this any better than i did back then, so?

   While it’s not a headcanon that I can apply into my writing, it deals heavily with Ace’s character, namely with the actual weight of one of his character traits——one that much of the fandom and fanon interpretations really reduce to just a quirk, when actually it’s hinting at something more symbolic. And yeah, that’s the fact that he likes chocobos.

  Because there is a reason, one with plenty of literary merit that gets overlooked in its english adaptation, that this detail is included and is so heavily connected to Ace’s character in particular. It is not merely chance nor coincidence that it’s a central aspect of Izana’s relationship with Ace——it is, in fact, critical to the point that Ace’s friendship with him attempts to draw out into the open.

  Now, in the world of Orience, chocobos are not seen with the same characteristic fondness that we’re used to them having in many other Final Fantasy titles. It’s not like they’re hated across the board——many NPC’s, ergo civilians, in various towns remark on how cute chocobos are or how they make nice pets, but within the Peristylium, the attitude taken toward them is very, very different. They are, first and foremost, equipment for the military, a means for transportation, devoid of feelings or thoughts. They are seen as replaceable objects, and that same ideology is an expectation and standard held by all the people who work within the Peristylium itself, perhaps with an exception of the chocobokeeps. During Izana’s initial meeting with Ace in the light novel, the cadet remarks that he’s, “the exception. [He’s] often told ‘It’s unreasonable to shower the army’s equipment with affection’.” Prior to this, Izana states that soldiers rarely visit the stables for this reason, especially simply for reasons to pet or feed their trusted partners——people like themselves are a minority, faced with plenty of scrutiny from their peers. Why this matters, when the classes at this point are treated as separate entities from the military is also elaborated on:

“In other words, the cadets were not ordinary students, but existed alongside the military personnel and civil officials. The classes were one organization that always mobilized together, so the relationships between comrades in the classes were extremely close. If he denied those classmates’ opinions, then his standing among them would also decline.”

  Which is something we see in the game, but is also a huge concept that we see in Japanese society as a whole outside the game. There’s a really excellent post on the matter using the framework of Persona 4 to explain how it exists in reality (see here.), but for the aspect of time, I’ll hit the highlights. Essentially, in Japan, like in Rubrum, people are taught to view themselves as part of a machine, so to speak. Each individual is a cog in the machine, and therefore unless everybody works together, the machine itself will fail or jam——as such, it is looked down upon to be different from other people in a way that inconveniences the people around you. The individualistic sort of traits that Westerners tend to pride themselves on are more openly found in certain hobbies for them, including gaming, where it becomes an escape to be more unique. Otherwise, it’s best to behave accordingly and not do anything that might bother anybody else. Now, take that framework and apply it to the individual classes within the Peristylium Suzaku, and it draws a near-perfect parallel regarding behavior: those who score lowly, don’t commit themselves to extracurricular activities or clubs, or are generally negative are not popular and are, henceforth, bullied.

  So, what does this have to do with Ace’s love of chocobos? Well, give me a second to really explain where Class Zero actually stands in regards to the other classes.

  We’re led under false pretenses to believe that Class Zero is beloved by the entirety of the Peristylium for around half the game, excluding many members of Parliament, if we simply proceed with the story and don’t actually talk to the other cadets. However, at the game’s beginning, Class Zero is new and because of their status and adoptive mother being the head of the Sorcery Department, are cast as the most important and powerful class, knocking Class First down a peg (a fact that their moogle is never happy about and constantly challenges you on) seemingly overnight. Now, this doesn’t have an effect until later on in the plot, when Class Zero is branded as traitors and more and more cadets are asking if they’re really all that and so strong, but that’s because in those initial battles, after Class Zero saved the Peristylium, they had no reason to complain. Class Zero was contributing in a beneficial way to the whole of the country and the war effort——it isn’t until they start becoming an “inconvenience” that the hatred and bullying towards them becomes a problem.

  And we even witness just how fickle the Peristylium cadets are about it, given in the final chapter when Class Zero returns after defeating Qator in Ingram and everything has gone to shit because of Finis, these other kids are outright screaming the blame at Class Zero from the moment they arrive——blaming them wholly for the end of the world despite the fact they never did anything other than what they were told. These cadets are bullies, unable to do much other than speak slanderous remarks in the face of Class Zero’s proven strength. And what’s worse, they don’t even care if Class Zero actually dies like they’re telling them to do, because they believe they won’t remember them anyway thanks to the Crystal’s Blessing. At that point, it’s more desirable for Class Zero to die and make everything better with their absence from these cadets’ perspective.

  In essence, Class Zero is only the top class in name alone. As far as the majority of the cadets believe, these new kids are deplorables if they don’t properly contribute and make everybody’s lives easier, and they only got their high ranking status because of Arecia Al-Rashia handing it to them on a silver platter, which makes it that much more annoying to them. And as we know incredibly well from the incidents at both Ingram and Big Bridge, to boot, Parliament has no issue with using Class Zero as pawns for their own gain, keeping them only as long as they’re useful and ready to leave them for dead the second they get the chance.

  Starting to sound familiar? It should——because it’s the same way the Peristylium staff and cadets treat the chocobos: like tools to be disposed of and replaced with no concern for their emotional or psychological states. And within Class Zero stands a greater example of all the societal constraints we see above in Ace himself. He behaves differently to receive the approval of his classmates and streamline their tasks as a class, and also on the larger scale in order to properly fit in among his fellow cadets——even though he doesn’t actually agree with their views or actions. He does still challenge the established norm, as Cater remarks that a “red-mantled cadet was seen at the chocobo stables” in annoyance, claiming that they were, essentially, sullying Class Zero’s name by doing so, and though she doesn’t realize it herself, there’s little belief that the cadet is anybody other than Ace to the player. But, regardless of his attempts to escape and enjoy the things that make him happy, he does ultimately cave to societal expectations of himself, out of a desire to maintain the bonds with his allies and, dare he even call them his friends, even if it means sacrificing a bit of his identity to do so.

  Ace, himself, however, is also the symbolic equivalent of the chocobos. In particular, he’s the symbolic equivalent of a chocobo from his own past.

  “When he was very young, Ace saved a Chocobo chick he found that had been abandoned by its mother. Unfortunately, the chick later died due to illness. Even though Ace has little recollection of this, he still feels a pinch of sentiment for the lively creatures.” — Crimson Codex; Ace’s character page; Page 2.

  Now, whether you personally consider the events in Chapter 8 to be abandonment or not isn’t really relevant for debate. Arecia Al-Rashia did leave her children on their own to combat the events of Finis and to complete the final pages of the Akashic Record from within the dungeon Pandemonium. She was nowhere to be found, and she had little intention of interfering in the game’s cycle, as she hadn’t done in every cycle prior. In this cycle, the Lulusath Arbiter (Rursus Arbiter, for the localization people) is defeated only once Class Zero is saved from death’s door by Machina and Rem using their l’Cie abilities to empower them from within their respective crystals. And as we all know pretty well, this only saved them temporarily from death, as with their own phantoma expended, Class Zero succumbed to their wounds shortly after the battle once they returned to their classroom. At which the revived/freed Machina and Rem enter the room and, suddenly, overcome with grief, Machina manages to forgive them for Izana’s death and the two of them carry the memory of their fallen classmates forward. Despite the twist on the ending, it’s an intentionally similar narrative in the baseline of how the events play out.

  Obviously, Ace is not an actual chocobo, though, he does possess many similar traits to them: steadfast loyalty, strength, speed, a desire to remain with others of its kind like family or friends, and a pretty similar color scheme to the chocobo from Chocobo Dungeon (that chocobo even has a satchel like Ace does!). It’s the sheer weight that this particular character trait holds in the overarching world of Orience, however, that makes it important to note, because the birds themselves hold such a particular reputation that it’s hard to believe it’s merely coincidence. Ace’s character is constantly put in comparison or in juxtaposition to the birds he likes (and admires) so much, yet we never see the same compassion from similar individuals, except Machina. It’s a smaller detail that, when looked alongside its entire whole, begins to connect the patches that seem irrelevant and fill the voids in this game’s already incredibly elaborate tapestry.