#[i mean he's valid betrayal isn't something you just heal from

[dramatisperscnae]

He's not really shocked that Wayne's looked into him. That had been part of the reason Dick had come clean about Alfred's taking him in in the first place: much better to hear that from Dick personally than see it in the news or something. Even so, Dick almost manages to brighten on hearing that. It at least shows *some curiosity, right? Even if it had been mostly just scoping out a potential rival or threat.

But then his shoulders sag, more noticeably than he'd like, as Wayne says very plainly that they're not friends. Not even teammates. Dick knows this, of course, it's not exactly news, but…well, that doesn't make it any more pleasant to hear for all Wayne also admits they're on the same side. It does explain why he's been getting the kinds of answers he has when he asks the more personal questions, but it doesn't make him feel any better about it.

Dick sighs softly, looking down. "Maybe. But…" He always has a but, doesn't he? As much as he's coming to expect Wayne to push every attempt he makes to connect aside, Dick just can't seem to stop himself. "I guess I'm hoping that…if we actually got to know each other it might help keep that from happening." But then, Wayne had Alfred, once, and that connection hadn't stopped his initial fall, had it? What chance does some kid have that the once-closest person to Wayne clearly hadn't?

Shifting in his chair, Dick opts to shift the conversation topic a little. Wayne had suggested he talk about himself, right? "…But I don't guess there's all that much to tell you about me," he says with a shrug. "You know the important stuff already. About my folks, the orphanage…Alfred…" He looks up, leaning back in his chair. "He's got me enrolled in Gotham Academy." also something easily learned through the media, given the various reactions to some random orphan from the Bowery suddenly becoming heir to the rather sizeable remnants of the Wayne estate. "It was…part of the deal we made, when he took me in. I have to finish school. Keep my grades up, that kind of thing."

He shrugs a little. "I manage okay; it doesn't really give me much time, between schoolwork and all this, but…it's working out. And the school's not bad. There's one or two kids who give me shit for being an orphan, but it's nothing I can't handle." Especially since he learned early on in the orphanage how to avoid being the one to start the fights. People look at you a lot differently if you can at least appear to legitimately claim self-defense.

There's a distance in his eyes, though, as he talks that does a lot of speaking on its own. Alfred's taken this boy in, certainly, and is even clearly supporting him in his decisions, but Dick is still very much aware of the sword of Damoclese hanging over his head where the old butler is concerned. He can't afford to let himself lose focus, at all, or give Alfred - or anyone - even the chance to worry he's losing his way. In his own way Dick is keeping himself apart from everyone, reaching out as much as he dares to the only other person he knows who might possibly at least understand, if not actually reach out in turn.

      🦇—-;; Grim does understand why Dick had asked, still, Grim wasn't about to divulge too much about himself, he's learned that that just causes you too much trouble. Makes it easier for people to find a weakness and betray you. He would have let the silence linger, but he does note Dick's anxiousness involved in why he's just talking, and asking questions. He looked at him for a moment and he hummed.

"Why don't you tell me about you? Since I know about you from what I've managed to find in news articles and social media." He says, not point in hiding that he had looked into the boy. Just to make sure he's not too much of a threat to him, at least beyond the vigilante thing. They were on the same side, in a sense, but not the same team. He shifts a little and he sighs, "so not that much at all."

Grim shifts a little, "I didn't think it was...the right thing to do to pry into who you are. I mean...we're not friends." He says, hoping that explained to the kid why he hadn't been trying to get to know him. "Besides, we're also not exactly on the same team, same side, sure, but not the same team. I don't think it's a good idea for the two of us to get any closer as friends, especially if, as you say you will, you want to stop me if I turn back to how I was before I was imprison, instead of trying to do things...your way." He shifted a little and shakes his head a little. Did that explain why he hadn't asked too many questions? He hoped it at least made it clear why, even if it didn't make a lot of sense.

[soo-won]

Letting go - Chapter 259

One thing this chapter makes me think about a lot is, what does "letting go" really mean? Is it something to absolutely aim for? and where does Hak position himself in relation to it today?

Hak is worried above all about the dragons right now, but we know well that he's also making a reference to his experience with Soo-won here. After all, even if Zeno did talk about forgetting them, he never said anything about "letting go" specifically. To let go is however very much something he said word for word about Soo-won in the past (chapter 153). If it wasn't already obvious enough, Hak in his turn makes the parallel between what happened with Soo-won and what is happening now with Zeno.

The end of chapter 153 hinted that even if Hak hasn't reached the point where he can let go of Soo-won yet, this is something that will eventually happen down the road thanks to Yona. And how can we not wish it for him? He suffers from it, it makes him angry, depressed, frustrated, it makes him grieve. Hak has always struggled from Soo-won's betrayal, he first tried to repress the feelings, then started walking a long road of trying to reconnect with and make sense of them, the present and their past together. He was slowly healing, he started being content with having a role in the sky tribe as long as the Yona and the hhb were with him. It was all for the best, everyone was walking in the same direction.

And then chapter 243 happened.

To be honest, when I read chapter 259 I couldn't help but have mixed feelings about this. After all, chapter 243 happened just one year ago, and this chapter devastated me like no story had ever before. This past year I thought hard about chapter 243, I tried to make sense of it in multiple ways and get over the devastation it made me go through. I also needed time, a lot of discussions with friends and the distance to see that yes, it is a chapter where both Soo-won and Hak are at their worst emotionally, and they both give up (among many other things but this isn't a ch243 post) but it won't be the end, it's them both failing to get out of this maze. But I just couldn't accept it. I felt angry. That Hak simply accepted how Soo-won, in a way, pushes him away again and the fact Soo-won will die, be replaced, and there is no hope for him. That he didn't contradict Soo-won saying the country will be fine without him, that this is their goodbye and it's over for them. That Hak will forget what they shared in chapter 61. That Hak is letting go and moving on.

So technically speaking I should be more than happy with chapter 259 and Hak saying he sucks at forgetting and letting go! But well, I got fond of chapter 243 with time. I spent so much time thinking and discussing about it, to engage with it, to question every line and to give them a meaning that slowly started to make more and more sense to me. It became precious to me. Yes I'm this dramatic over a single manga chapter but you have to understand the degree of emotional turmoil it made me go through, it was that bad! Anyway,

So when I read chapter 259, while I feel validated and relieved, I can't also can't help but think "But then, what was chapter 243 for?" What did it change in Soo-won and Hak's relationship? Does it not matter at all anymore because anyway Hak said sike and he actually just can't forget and let go? I can't accept this either. And I don't think that's the case.

And in a way, Hak did let go. But forgetting his dream of walking side by side with Soowon as his equal, on the same path, is different than forgetting Soowon whatsoever. Hak decides he won't remember it anymore and takes a different path. But what does it entail? What does he keep and embrace and what did he let go?

The vow of 10 years that tied Soo-won to the people following him, and the vow of 10 years that tied Hak to him. The formers cling to it, not taking into consideration Soo-won's true self and his ability to change. It chains him. It forces him to act not as his real self, but as the ideal image they project on him. They don't respect what the real Soowon wants, they try to make him the Soo-won that /they/ want. Soo-won changed from 10 years ago and corresponds to neither their ideal, neither Hak's. That's why it was so violent for Hak in 243. Hak couldn't see Soo-won's own circumstances, experience and current struggles and even less accept them. But in chapter 251, Hak doesn't let this vow chain them anymore, and in a way, that helped him gain confidence in the entirety of their history together instead of clinging into one aspect of it, no matter how precious it is to him. So I believe Hak needed chapter 243 to realize he was again projecting on Soo-won, and he needed to part ways to put things into perspective right now with the Zeno plot, so for that it's a good thing.

Still, when I put chapter 243 and 259 together, when Hak said he would forget his past vow to Soo-won and that there was no need to remember it anymore, I still think it was also him giving up, not having the strength to fight back because yeah, what can Hak or Soo-won even do about the Crimson Illness? Soo-won himself is convinced he will die, that he will be replaced and things will be perfectly fine without him, and so that he has to let go of Yona and Hak because what they want is the dragons, not him. He's not completely wrong, but this is not taking into account that both of them still care for Soo-won and want him to be there. That it's not about being replaceable or not, that they can care for the dragons and still want Soo-won to live for no other reason than because he is Soo-won. This is something Hak and Soo-won have both been struggling with since they said goodbye, and they are still coming to term in their own pace that they actually don't want things to end there.

Hak let go of his vow of walking by his side as his equal, but he still cares, he still can't forget, and he needed Yona to put it simply into words for him. It's okay to still feel conflicted, to carry contradictory feelings. What is undoubtely there is he wants him to live and to be there. That even apart, even when his priority is saving his friends and protecting Yona, Soo-won is still a part of him and he can't just erase him from his life. And it's fine. I don't think he should have to if ultimately putting things with Soo-won behind him, letting him go, hurts him so much. He deals with things differently than Yona and he doesn't have to do the same as her if that's not what is good to him. Yona shows that even after letting go of the hairpin, it still doesn't mean she can't think of Soo-won and wish for him to live. Letting go isn't erasing someone's existence from your life, it can just be taking a different path without tearing the bond apart.

But what this all makes me think about is, maybe letting go, in the sense of completely putting things behind them, is precisely the problem with Soo-won and Zeno. They're too good at it. We know they struggle to do it completely and honestly, but they are much better at killing their feelings than Hak, and they're able to at least act and pretend as if they were really letting go. What is so similar between Soo-won and Zeno besides betraying Yona and Hak to accomplish their respective goal and their tendency to hide their most unpleasant feelings, is that they are driven by the conviction that they have no other choice. Why does Soo-won discard people, his soldiers, prisoners, his friends? Because he doesn't believe in a path where he can keep them that wouldn't compromise the rest of the country. Before the coup, despite how much he longed for it, Soo-won couldn't believe a future with Yona and Hak by his side would ever be possible. So he gave up this dream, he acted with this fact in mind, he didn't try to pursue it. A self fulfilling prophecy. Chapter 243 was the same. And Zeno now is exactly the same as well. He doesn't believe in any other solution he could come up with together with Yona. He does what he does because if he doesn't, he is convinced he won't have another chance to be free and to end the cycle. Soo-won pretended the one they knew never existed, while Zeno pretends he already forgot them and that they should do the same.

They push them away, they tell themselves that Hak will protect Yona anyway and they will be fine without them. They let go, put an end to their bonds themselves in an (probably unconscious) attempt to have some agency on the end rather than to wait to be left behind.

But Yona's grip is strong, and despite everything Hak sucks at letting go. For their friends and for Soo-won and anyone on their path. And maybe it is important too to not let go. To be stubborn and selfish about it. To not leave anyone behind, to not avert your eyes from those in the shadows. Maybe "to let go" isn't something to wish for as an absolute solution to grief. Maybe letting go just brings more pain sometimes and is the killer of trying to fight for a better solution. Maybe there is worth in keeping what is precious to you close to your chest and fighting for it against all odds.

Honestly, as I write this I am not even sure of the answer. Zeno does deserve rest and to be allowed to go. And I can't tell if Hak will let go of Soo-won for good in the end. There is definitely a lot of good out of letting people and things go sometimes, even in Hak's case. It gives him the space to explore his feelings and come to term with them, and I don't expect him to live his life with anyone but the HHB. But all I feel is, surely, there is a better way to say goodbye. A way to say goodbye not out of resignation and despair. A way for them to listen to their hearts and be honest with their feelings. So I can only wait and keep faith for it, as I watch the characters slowly but surely try to change their fate and not submit to it.

[itsclydebitches]

A weird defence I've seen of RWBY's conflicts has been that it's good writing simply by the virtue that people can disagree on what's the right thing to do in said conflict. Which doesn't work when one decision is being presented as the only valid choice while every other option is either not addressed or demonized. This isn't a story leaving a nuanced set of stances to explore, it's a guy on stage signalling the crowd to boo whenever someone goes against the Protag's decision.

Real quick, I want to talk about RWBY by not talking about RWBY. I’ve seen this argument a lot too and the tl;dr is that just because your audience debates the right action in a conflict  — something that is inevitable given how subjective media is  — doesn’t mean the story encouraged that reflection in any way. As you say, RWBY pretends that those disagreements don’t exist and that This Is The One (1) Right Answer... which entirely defeats the purpose of a morally nuanced situation in the first place. That lack is bad writing because it demonstrates the author’s inability to provide an accurate picture of the conflict while still ensuring we come out of it liking the parties involved. The conflict was too complex for them to manage alongside equally complex characterization, so they just pretended it was far simpler than it actually was. That’s not something to praise. 

But to get to the not RWBY part. I’ve mentioned this a couple times before, but one of the scenes that I think manages these sorts of conflicts really well is the funeral fight in The Haunting of Hill House, episodes 6, “Two Storms.” So warning from here on out for spoilers. Sometimes, the best way to see what’s not working well in one show is to look at another show that does (basically) the same thing successfully and compare the two. 

Normally I’d include screenshots, but Netflix doesn’t allow that :/ So I’m forced to rely on bullet points. 

The basic premise is that the Crain family has assembled in daughter Shirley’s funeral home, the night before they bury their sister, Nell. A lot of secrets are about to come to light. 

The scene kicks off when their father, Hugh, relays the call he got from the housekeeper the night of Nell’s death. She had committed suicide in the family’s childhood home. 

Though everyone knew how she’d died, son Steven is distraught at hearing the details and reveals that a few weeks prior Nell crashed a book signing of his. This shocks the others given that this was very unusual behavior for Nell. 

Shirley likewise reveals that she got a call from Nell who’d been worried about their brother, Luke, but hadn’t spoken to her the night of her death. The implication is that no one did. They’ll never know what was going through her head the night she died. 

Hugh reveals that she did call him. “I talked to her.” 

Stunned by this news, his children demand to know what was discussed and Hugh is clearly reluctant to continue. However, he eventually says that Nell wasn’t just worried about Luke, but also the “Bent Neck Lady,” a specter from her childhood.

The viewer knows that ghosts are real in this show. The kids don’t. Or rather, they all experienced supernatural occurrences in their childhood, are still experiencing them now, but only some of them are willing to admit they’re real. Steven is the diehard skeptic of the bunch and starts yelling at his father, accusing him of aiding Nell’s delusions and ignoring a family history of mental illness. In particular, he declares that this “makes you culpable [in her death].” 

Steven continues to accuse Hugh of “holding back information” about Nell and Hugh shoots back that “If I held back anything it was to protect you kids.” The viewer understands Hugh’s dilemma: the only reason he keeps things to himself is because Steven and the others refuse to believe the truth, with an added dose of this supernatural stuff being very dangerous. Steven asks, “Why do I need protection from the truth?” 

Before their fight can go any further, Shirley tells Steven, “You might want to check yourself before you start talking about the truth.” He published an autobiographical book about their childhood trauma and notably capitalized on a supernatural angle he doesn’t believe in. Shirley calls it “blood money.” 

As the argument about the ethics of his book rages, Shirley defends herself primarily with how everyone else thinks this is “blood money” too. No one took a cut when Steven offered one, proving how despicable they all think it is. 

Meanwhile, sister Theo has been getting heat for being drunk (a coping mechanism for her own supernatural troubles) and Shirley eventually pushes her far enough that she admits she did take Steven’s money and used it to get her degree. “It’s good, fucking money.” Suddenly, Steven has someone in his corner and Shirley’s main defense has crumbled. 

Shirley is furious that Theo had this secret income but was still living with her and her husband. Theo reminds her that she offered to pay rent, but Shirley isn’t interested in hearing that. She demands that Theo move out immediately and uses this betrayal as the new way to protect herself. She’s the victim here. 

Steven, sensing another secret in the works, cautions Shirley to “get off your high horse before you fall off.” 

Shirley maintains her position until her husband blurts that they also took Steven’s money. Shirley hasn’t been running the funeral home well and they would have sunk without it. 

Despite being the punching bag for the second half of this fight, Shirley is offered both reassurance and dignity. Her husband emphasizes that the only reason they’re struggling is because Shirley is a good person. She does too much work pro bono. Shirley also delivers the line, “Do you have any idea how much you’ve humiliated me?” calling into question the husband’s choice to admit this now, purely as a way to prove her wrong. 

Shirley leaves to get some distance and discovers that someone — something — has put buttons over Nell’s eyes. The shock of this keeps the fight from continuing and, as plot intervenes, gives the characters the space needed to eventually start healing and forgiving one another, notably by sitting with the various truths they all now have to grapple with. 

Phew! A long summary, but I’ve put this much detail in to highlight the nuance of the scene. Obviously RWBY would differ in many ways  — less cursing, for one  — but the core elements of any morally complex scene should be the same. The important takeaways here are that no one in the Crain family are “pure” or “evil” and everyone gets their chance to be both right and wrong. Hugh is right that Steven won’t listen to him and wrong in that he didn’t do enough to help his kids. We get Steven and Hugh’s frustration, their understanding of the world at odds with one another. Steven is wrong to put everything on his father and justified in starting his writing career with their story. We watch the scene move from “Steven is Wrong and everyone agrees” to “Oh shit nm, more and more of the family are revealing that they benefited from his money, complicating how “wrong” he actually is.” Shirley is right to point out that Theo is getting drunk during their sister’s funeral and Theo is right to point out that being drunk doesn’t erase having a good point. Theo is allowed to scream at the group and then immediately be offered help when she falls. Shirley pretends she’s better than all of them and is slowly, horrifyingly proven wrong, but is then still extended compassion and is allowed to point out how horribly they’ve just treated her. The husband is right about the money, wrong about keeping it a secret/revealing it the way he did, right in how he tries to diffuse the other fights, and VERY wrong by getting caught kissing Theo down in the storeroom! 

The scene twists and turns in a way that highlights everyone’s points and their flaws, the moments when their perspective should be upheld and questioned. The end result is a scene that has space for the audience to debate everyone’s choices without imposing the single view of This Person Is Obviously Wrong/Right and If You Think Otherwise You’re Not Watching The Show Correctly. The show itself acknowledges the complexity and nuance of these problems. It asks, “Hugh should have tried harder, but what more can he do when his kids literally don’t believe this stuff exists? Was Steven really justified in writing a book about their collective experiences? What does it mean that something his family sees as capitalizing on their trauma also helped them keep businesses and schooling afloat? Was it okay for Shirley’s husband to keep that money a secret, even if it helped them? How might he have told her in a less cruel manner? What about Shirley’s life has led to her intense need to be on that ‘high horse’?” 

And of course: “Who is really responsible for Nell’s death?” By this point the viewer already knows that there is no “really” here. This is too complicated a tragedy to lay the blame at any one person’s feet. Everyone in this room has moments of justified accusations and moments of chastisement because they’re well written, well rounded characters who are neither saints nor devils. The length of the scene (done in a single shot!) emphasizes that if you just wait long enough, even the most perfect looking person will eventually have a skeleton pulled from their closet. No one is above mistakes. 

RWBY has NONE of that. Zip. Nada. Nothing. RWBY gave us a scenario with many of the same, core themes  — secret keeping, secrets unwillingly revealed, blaming others for your mistakes, hurtful actions with helpful consequences, questioning who is responsible for a tragic death  — and instead of even attempting to give us some of the above nuance, RWBY said only that Ruby was right, Ozpin was wrong, and demanding that the audience ignore the nuance they could already see in order to accept the canon. 

RWBY’s scene asks the audience to play dumb and look at the world as a Black and White place, despite the show simultaneously insisting that “the world isn’t a fairy tale” and is, in fact, filled with shades of gray. 

Just not any shades of gray that mess with that dichotomy that now drives the story.  

That’s not good writing. It’s oblivious and contradictory writing that makes the audience frustrated. Not satisfied, surprised, contemplative, or curious. Just frustrated.