#Analysis of Writing Narratives

[thatonebirdwrites]

Survivor Narrative Structure

I know a lot of writers discuss various story structure, but a lot of it is trapped in this small bubble of Western styles that don't take into the full breadth of the diversity of story structures. This article by Kim Yoonmi touches on some other styles: Worldwide Story Structures. It's worth a look. You can read it here. For this short essay, I wanted to talk about a lesser known but often used story structure that I see crop up in television shows, movies, books, and various other media. This structure sometimes overlaps with others, but there's key differences that I think makes it distinct. I call it the Survivor Narrative.

A good example of the Survivor Narrative is Legend of Korra. Each season is structured around a movement/event that can devastate the people within that place/area/society. Korra and her Krew then must untangle the truth of what is happening, and it causes great trauma when they have their big confrontation. They survive and must then heal.

I also found several Marvel movies followed an adaptation of this story structure. For an example, see Moonknight; it's is a story that deconstructs the protagonist's mental illness, while the protagonist and his wife deal with a pressing issue that impact many societies at once. Each step of the Survivor's Journey was touched upon in the show.

Let's take a look at the narrative, shall we?

Introduction of players. Within this stage of the structure, we meet our protagonists. Survivor Narratives often rely on a group dynamic to be most effective, so it's rare for it to be a single protagonist (even in MoonKnight, its technically a duo or should I saw quartet if we include the multiple personalities, which all played a specific role in the group dynamics). The world itself is also introduced as a player within this story, and the antagonist(s) are revealed indirectly. The biggest key point is after the main introduction of players, we are given a glimpse of the issue/problem that is impacting the society, antagonist(s), and protagonists. This is where the stage is set for the following steps.

Untangling and/or investigating the causes of disturbance and harm. In this stage, the issue that is harming the society/community/group has become more visible and intense. The protagonists then investigate to try to understand the issue and seek a resolution. In this stage, investigation and/or infiltration is commonly used, but direct confrontation or political machinations can also appear. This stage has a lot of diversity in how the investigation is portrayed to be honest.

Reveal of the antagonist(s)' "Solution" to the issue/problem. This is the turning point of the narrative, where the antagonist(s) are fully revealed often with their "solution" to the issue/problem. This digs into the antagonists' philosophical views and why they are doing what they're doing. There is always an element to the antagonist(s) concerns and reasons that have a valid point that troubles the protagonists, where they wonder if they are really on the "good" side for "opposing" the antagonist.

Counter to the antagonist(s) "solution." Here our protagonists will encounter either another group of people or an individual or will discover in themselves a counter to the antagonist's "solution." It's a glimpse into an alternate way to solve the original issue that is causing harm to the community/society/group. The protagonists may even try to enact their solution before the antagonist (in this case a 'race against time element may appear as a side arc).

Failure to counter the antagonist. In this stage our protagonists fail at countering the antagonist's solution. If our protagonists attempted to enact their own solution first, they will always fail to do so in time. The antagonist always stays one step ahead. The antagonist(s) will begin to initiate their "solution" at this point.

Final Confrontation. Here is the moment of realization and full impact of the antagonist(s) solution on the people of this society/world/group and on the protagonists. This tends to lead to a confrontation whether directly or indirectly between the protagonists and the antagonist(s). At this point, very little can stop the antagonist(s)' enactment of the full layers of their "solution" to the issue/problem facing the larger society/group/world.

Defeat of Antagonist OR Retreat of Protagonists to Try Again Another Day. For this stage, it can go two ways. The protagonists can, through great trauma and pain, manage to defeat the antagonist, but doing so has a very, very high cost. The impact of the antagonist(s)' "solution" will still be reverberating through the world/group/society, which is a collective trauma that the protagonists then must aid in repairing. OR the protagonists fail and must retreat, upon which this entire narrative will repeat itself in the next attempt at resolving the original issue. If the protagonists retreat, they will end up with more than just the original issue to resolve, because now they must contend with the consequences of the antagonists' "solution" and any collective trauma that resulted.

Recovery period. This is perhaps the most crucial stage of this entire narrative. The protagonists deal with the heavy consequences of their fight to resolve the harmful issue and stop the antagonists' "solution." Trauma is part of that heavy cost, and a healing arc is often introduced in this part of the narrative. That healing arc will enter into the Survivor Narrative as an additional issue when the cycle repeats itself for the aftermath/impact of prior stages and/or for any new issues/antagonist(s).

So those are the main stages of the Survivor Narrative. I find that most stories that utilize it seem to hit each of those eight parts fairly consistently.

As an example, Legend of Korra follows this narrative fairly accurately, even in the individual character arcs, in particular Korra's and Asami's character arcs -- follow this same format, though for them their "issue" or "problem" relates to the core of their identity, the trauma they've gained from the larger story, and their fears/weaknesses/flaws that impact their healing. To overcome and heal from their trauma and stay true to their core, they undergo the survivor narrative, where they face both an external antagonist and/or event that causes and/or exacerbates their trauma and an internal antagonist that can sabotage their healing journey.

Let's take a look at the larger story to see how the Survivor Narrative fits into Book 1 of Legend of Korra. Note that some of these stages of the narrative overlap in episodes, and that's perfectly fine. Multiple stages can happen in parallel, just as individual character arcs can also happen in parallel:

We are introduced to Avatar Korra, Republic City, Tenzin and his family, people in the city who struggle against a complicated and painful issue that impact their lives, and the start of Korra's "Krew." We see indirectly the antagonist and his promises of a "solution" to the problem/issue of inequality between benders and nonbenders.

After we get to know the characters a little better, the Krew starts to investigate the problem and the antagonist's "solution." This is sped along when Bolin goes missing. We see the flyers the Equalists have put out, we see some of the tensions between the nonbenders and benders, we hear from the homeless in the city, and we see a glimpse into the rich strata and bender council.

The Reveal of the Antagonist's "solution" happens during the episode where Mako and Korra race to save Bolin from this "reveal." This is also when the tensions between benders and nonbenders begin to escalate in painful ways. We also are give a new addition to the Krew with Asami Sato, whose father plays a major role in the "reveal" of the "solution."

Several "counters" to the antagonist's solution is put forward by the Bender Council, by the homeless population of Republic City, and by Asami's role within the Krew. Aang's solution also appears within Korra's past life visions.

The failure of all counters to the antagonist's solution devastates Republic City, and the Krew is on the run. The city is imperiled, the antagonist is now leading a revolution, and all benders are in danger of of the genocidal "solution" that Amon touts.

The Krew has a Final Confrontation, where Republic City's navy is devastated by the antagonists, where Asami and Bolin confront Asami's father, where Korra and Mako confront Amon. Great trauma and hefty consequences hit all of our protagonists during this confrontations. Asami is nearly killed by her own father, leaving her with lasting mental trauma. Korra loses her bending to Amon's "solution." Republic City loses majority of their naval force and many of their districts are damaged, and a large segment of their populace "purified" by Amon's "solution."

Defeat of Amon, Hiroshi Sato (Asami's father), and the Equalist movement in large succeeds, but it is at a great cost. Nonbender and bender relations are heavily stressed, there's great damage to the city, Korra has lost her bending, Asami's has lost her family, a lot of benders have lost their bending.

The Recovery phase is when the Krew head South for Korra to seek Katara for healing. Here Korra is confronted with the full agony of her condition, and while she contemplates suicide, her past lives appear to offer her healing and a path forward. This is a very compressed healing arc (but we'll see a much longer healing arc for Korra after the events of Book 3, which is another Book that follows this narrative to a teeth). Book 1 ends with the recovery phase going on in earnest for Republic City, Asami, and the other characters. It's not till Book 2 that we will see the full extent of how this recovery goes.

Yes, I simplified the analysis above as I did not cover the individual character arcs, but I believe the above works well enough to illustrate how to apply this particular storytelling narrative.

In my opinion, I find the Survivor Narrative to be an extremely powerful and moving story structure when written well.

I also feel like the Survivor Narrative is often misunderstood because Western Media pushes the Hero's journey and/or were trapped in this idea that there was only one way to write conflict (often seen as a triangle diagram, Freytag's pyramid). This can cause friction with material that doesn't use that structure, where people claim it's "bad writing" or "too confusing."

But if we take a step back and look at these stories from a different perspective, to examine their structure through a wider lens, we see that they make perfect sense. There is a solid and good structure there, and the writing often is really good (yes, there's always exceptions but still).

The Japan's story structure of Kishotenketsu often is fused with the Survivor Narrative to add further depth to the protagonist(s), antagonist(s), and the place (setting, society, group in general that is impacted by the issue/problem). This fusion of narratives shows up in Legend of Korra, but also in a lot of Japanese Anime and Manga.

There is lovely diversity in how this narrative structure is applied, partly because one can partner the Survivor Narrative to various Non-Western (and even Western) story structures, where the fusion creates a more interesting tale. That is also why I love it so much. People's creativity and how they layer this narrative style with other styles of story structures makes the Survivor Narrative fairly unique and moving.

Let me know if you all have questions. I hope this write-up helps inspire some of you to explore this type of narrative structure!

[blueskittlesart]

*sigh* thoughts on Nintendo's botw/totk timeline shenanigans and tomfoolery?

tbh. my maybe-unpopular opinion is that the timeline is only important when a game's place on the timeline seriously informs the way their narrative progresses. the problem is that before botw we almost NEVER got games where it didn't matter. it matters for skyward sword because it's the beginning, and it matters for tp/ww/alttp (and their respective sequels) because the choices the hero of time makes explicitly inform the narrative of those games in one way or another. it matters which timeline we're in for those games because these cycles we're seeing are close enough to oot's cycle that they're still feeling the effects of his choices. botw, however, takes place at minimum 10 thousand years after oot, so its place on the timeline actually functionally means nothing. botw is completely divorced from the hero of time & his story, so what he does is a nonissue in the context of botw link and zelda's story. thus, which timeline botw happens in is a nonissue. honestly I kind of liked the idea that it happened in all of them. i think there's a cool idea of inevitability that can be played with there. but the point is that the timeline exists to enhance and fill in the lore of games that need it, and botw/totk don't really need it because the devs finally realized they could make a game without the hero of time in it.

[ironunderstands]

Topaz appreciation post because she’s been rotating around my brain like a rotisserie chicken and I need y’all to get her like I do 

Genuinely, I believe her to be the most underrated limited 5 star in the game everything wise, because she is so damn interesting and nobody talks about it ever and it drives me nuts.

So, I’m going to make you understand why exactly I love her and what makes her so amazing in the first place.

Her lore 

Topaz’s lore is rather simple, at least compared to other characters in the game, but simple ≠ bad and her story serves her perfectly.

Long before Topaz was Topaz, she was a girl named Jelena, living in a desolate planet at the edge of the galaxy. The economy of this planet was based around mining and industry, which resulted in her home becoming more and more polluted as time went on. The wildlife almost completely disappeared, people had to wear masks to breathe, and it seemed like her planet was reaching a hopeless, dismal end.

Until the IPC came. They promised to fix everything, and heal her planet of its environment problems, in exchange for every person on the planet signing a contract of indentured servitude to the IPC. Seeing no other way out, Topaz’s home accepted, forever tying her and the rest of the planet to the IPC.

Topaz is was (and still is) incredibly talented and competent, excelling in science, economics, finances, math, etc. Her exceptional talents caused her mentor  and parental figure Dvorski, who works in the Strategic Investment Department to recommend her to Jade, one of his superiors. Presumably, this is how she started her climb up the corporate latter, eventually becoming the Topaz we know and love today. 

Throughout this, she maintained her friendly and headstrong attitude, and never abandoned her love for animals or the people in her life like Dvorski, a trait which will be important for later. 

So, I’ve established the basics, so what makes this interesting?

Topaz’s trauma and how it affects her character 

I feel like a lot of people ignore just how much trauma she really has, and how it affects the way she behaves in the present.

For starters, her love of animals. Sure, Numby is adorable and in general this is a rather fun trait for a character to have, it’s not something you would consider to be a sign of something darker. 

However, remember that Topaz’s planet almost lost all of the life on it, and she witnessed firsthand almost every creature she knew and loved either go extinct or become severely endangered. 

So, when you view her love for animals through this lense, it’s easy to see that she’s so attached to animals because Topaz almost lost them forever, and this trait manifests in a lot of the behavior she exhibits.

According to Topaz herself, her efficiency goes up 27% when Numby is with her, and it seems to be blatantly obvious that being around animals give her at the very least a peace of mind/sense of comfort. I mean in game she is Topaz and Numby for a reason, and her relationship with them is a core part of the way she behaves. When Topaz can’t ground herself, she has Numby to help her with that, which hurts even more considering she is likely going on these missions alone 90% of the time, meaning her literal only friend is a pet/animal. 

Considering Topaz’s biological parents never get mentioned, it’s not hard to assume she is orphaned or at the very least estranged from them, likely due to the disaster on her planet, leaving her only loved ones to be her pets and Dvorski. Losing one half of the only support system she has would be devastating for Topaz, which is likely why she brings Numby everywhere (also considering I don’t think she has mentioned him in the present, her pets might literally be the only things she has left). 

In her own home, Topaz collects a myriad of species from across the galaxy, as if to preserve them so at least even if they disappear on their home planets like hers did, they won’t go extinct entirely. 

Personally, I think her fixation around them cooperating and coexisting also reflects on how she feels about other people. If animals from completely different planets can get along, so can people. If she can convince creatures lacking in intellect work together, then she can do the same for ones that possess it, as ultimately Topaz is a massive people person, and believes what she’s doing is best for the galaxy. 

It’s almost like an experiment, with every little change to their ecosystems, every new organism added, every new abiotic feature taken or removed, Topaz can simulate what that might be like in reality. In a way she wants to take care of humans  like she does her pets, however instead of doing it through her own means, she uses the IPC and her power as a Stoneheart as a vector for that.

But why is she so confident? What makes Topaz wholeheartedly believe that what she’s doing really is the best for the galaxy, even if we know it isn’t perfect, even if only ~80% of the planets she works on are “saved”?

Well, like always, it’s her trauma again.

Imagine you’re living on a planet slowly dying due to its people’s greed and ignorance, in which everything you know and love is falling apart, and absolutely nothing can be done about it. But you don’t need to imagine this, I mean this is a situation we are all going through, as it’s already what’s happening to our planet right now, so perhaps instead picture what it might be like to live here in a few decades if nothing changes. How miserable that would be, how upset you would be at those in power, how disappointed you would be in humanity for doing Nothing when we had so much time and already knew the consequences almost a century in advance (seriously we have known about climate change since like the 50s). 

So you give up hope and accept your fate, accept that everything is going down in flames and the humanity, the planet you know and love is going to be snuffed out forever.

Only to get saved when an outside influence comes to your assistance. Sure, they make everyone sign a contract binding their lives to them, but you wouldn’t have a life to give had they not helped. Besides, you owe it to every other thing that shares your planet with you, every plant, every animal, every organism has been utterly wiped out by human greed, so it’s only fair to pay them back, right? 

I mean it’s your whole world at stake, so how could you say no? How could you deem their terms unreasonable if clearly your own people didn’t deserve the responsibility they had over their own lives? If their situations could only be fixed by giving it to others who could guide them? By giving it to the IPC? The Preservation ?

This is the mindset Topaz grew up on and has known for her entire life. She has seen humanity utterly fail itself and is unwilling to allow that fate to befall others. She doesn’t trust other people to make the right decisions, she doesn’t think they know what’s best for them, because the people she was closest to, her very own people couldn’t do that, so how could she ever expect strangers to do the same? 

How could she ever give the leaders of these planets the benefit of the doubt, knowing that doing that for her own almost caused it to be wiped out completely? How could she see them as anything more than the selfish bastards who ruined everything? How could her heart not ache thinking there were people on the planets she helps who would be doomed to experience the fate that almost fell upon her had Topaz not stepped in. 

How could Topaz feel guilty over the planets that don’t succeed? The ones she can’t save? As after all, she thinks they were lost from the get go? Does it eat her up at night knowing she failed them? That she couldn’t prevent the folly of humanity this time, so the next planet she must work harder, be more stubborn, push back even more, so nobody ever experiences what she did instead?

I mean being an indentured servant hasn’t been that bad for her, she’s succeeded in every endeavor she’s set her mind to after all. Sure, she’s entirely alone, and sure, if the IPC no longer deems her or her people useful, they could cast them aside once again. 

But Topaz is smart, she climbed to the top of the latter, she’s been praised to hell and back, she’s known far and wide through the department for her efficiency and drive, surely she hasn’t done anything wrong?

Sure she’s heard whispers, rumors and projects of other departments, of the deep dark secrets of the company she owes her life too. Inwardly she wonders how those who follow the Preservation would even be willing to commit such atrocities, inwardly she hopes they are just rumors. The IPC saved her planet, so how could they destroy others? 

The Preservation’s power will protect all, will save them from their miserable existences. Nothing else matters in the process, no dissenter understands this as like Topaz does. She will save them, she will protect them, even if it means she is detested by everyone she encounters, it must be done. All for the Amber Lord.

I find it very compelling how despite the fact that Topaz has become a Stoneheart, she is still dressed in the fashion of an average IPC worker. As if she is an equal part of the puzzle as them. Equally useful, equally disposable, equally biased, equally ignorant, and equally foolish. 

I mean, how could she be anyway else?

Her future

Belabog was just as important for Topaz’s development as she was to it.

She was wrong. 

As stubborn as Topaz is, she is not arrogant, and when Bronya proved to her that the people of Belabog can and would fight for their future, Topaz did everything in her power to help them.

As that’s what she really cares about, people. 

I think Topaz the determination she has in Bronya and it shook her to her core. 

Because so far, the only way Topaz has seen real progress is from the hands of the IPC.

But Bronya doesn’t give into them, and she puts everything she has into saving her people. Moreover, Jarilo-VI follows the Preservation as well, but they don’t agree with the IPC’s method of it. 

Is the IPC wrong?

That is the question Topaz is faced with, what is the thing she has to grapple with once she leaves the planet. When they demote her for not getting the debt back immediately, does Topaz wonder why they were so concerned about that in the first place? Shouldn’t they be happy that a world blessed by their very own deity managed to pick itself up without their help? Isn’t that the point?

Does she think back to her previous projects, the planets she saved and the planets she failed, and wonder how it would have worked out without the IPCs involvement? 

Did Aventurine teasing her about “failing” the Jarilo-VI project confuse her, because they were still saved like Topaz wanted them to be in the first place? How could they ever be considered a failure?

She believes debts and payback are what holds planets together, but it only ever seemed to cause Belabog to fall apart.

This is the first time Topaz really is forced to reevaluate her priorities, to question if her methods are justifiable, if she’s really doing the right thing.

Belabog didn’t break her, it didn’t topple her worldview and turn everything on its head, but it did plant some seeds of doubt in her brain, seeds of doubt that will grow into a new mindset. 

HOYOVERSE IF YOU ARE LISTENING HOYOVERSE, GIVE HER THE MENTAL BREAKDOWN + PRIORITY REEVALUATION ARC SHE DESERVES!!! DO THAT AND MY LIFE IS YOURS PLEASE.

Like you don’t get it you don’t get it what do you mean they set all this up and they might not go anywhere with it. Please hoyo please please please let her break away from the IPC’s condition and warped perspective, please let her truly follow the Preservation, please make her turn away from them, please make her an emanator of Preservation after she does this. Topaz stoneheart form, Topaz emanator form. Please please please let her save the crew let her save her subordinates let her save the people she failed previously let her save Aventurine and Ratio let her save Numby let her save herself.

Her instability 

I have already somewhat touched on this in point #3, but Topaz just cannot exist in the state she is now permanently.

Like a radioactive element she’s going to slowly decay over time until she ends up in a more stable form, and who that will hurt in the process, and how long that will take, we will have to see.

Hypocrisy is not something that can exist for long within characters, as due to its inherent contradictions, it messes with the way they are characterized until they are eventually forced to either eliminate it themselves or have the story do it for them.

Topaz is a hypocrite, desiring to do good and help people, but she ends up hurting them in the process. 

However, she has only just begun to realize this, and as more and more of the IPC’s atrocities get revealed, it gets harder and harder for both the audience and her herself to justify her behavior as we witness the extent of their crimes.

So how has she remained this stable for so long?

Well, the IPC has done everything in their power to keep her that way. From a young age she was involved with them, as they not only saved her planet, but her only known parental figure worked in the Strategic Investment Department. Soon, he recommended her to Jade due to Topaz’s exceptional talent, and presumably the other Stoneheart quickly picked her up and took her under her wing, causing Jelena to rise fast within the ranks and become one herself.

The IPC has been Topaz’s only frame of reference for how things should be done, her only perspective on write and wrong for so long. The only hints she gets of other points of view are that of the people who destroyed her planet, her own people. Unintentional or not, Topaz has been made to feel her whole life like the IPC are heroes and the common people are foolish and greedy and evil, and only now has that worldview started to crumble piece by piece.

Sure, we have always known how terrible the IPC was, a perception that has only gotten more and more true over time. However, Topaz is not the audience, and in universe the IPC presents themselves in a very positive light.

Think of the Myriad Celestia trailer and how it portrays the IPC; that’s quite literally how they want to be viewed in game, how they market themselves to other people. If Topaz has only ever known them to be that great, shining, progressive company who vows to follow the Preservation and improve the universe, how could even begin to criticize them? After all, she had never known any other perspective. Even when she did fail in the past, Topaz viewed it as a strike on her own record and an unfortunate situation in general, not as a demonstration of the IPC’s misdeeds. 

The IPC is good, the IPC saves people, the IPC follows the Preservation, Topaz is a good person, Topaz does good things, Topaz helps people, Topaz saves people, there is nothing wrong, there won’t ever be anything wrong.

Until Belabog

They don’t want to cooperate with the IPC. To roll over and let themselves be gutted for all they are worth. 

Well that’s fine, that’s happened before, at least that’s how Topaz justifies it to herself. She thinks of their massive debt, it must be paid after all, otherwise how could the galaxy remain stable?

But the weapons the IPC gave Jarilo-VI were never used in its defense. The thing they owe the IPC for never ended up being valuable. Belabog stood on its own, without the help of IPC in its defense.

They saved themselves.

As if it couldn’t get worse, they did it with the power of the Preservation.

And it didn’t come from the IPC, it came from them.

The Interastral Peace Corporation, who claim to be followers of the Preservation, standing against people who really do have their blessing and being proved wrong.

Do you know how that would feel to Topaz.

She’s wrong, and she’s proven wrong by the very deity she claims to follow, she believes she follows.

So Topaz makes her choice.

Stick with the IPC’s plan, or stand with the people of Belabog 

And she stands with them.

Topaz’s character never changes. I hate when people act like she switched up on them and changed her whole worldview, but in reality that was the most in character thing Topaz has ever done in her entire life.

Because she cares about people, so when the opportunity presents itself, she will always stand with them. 

This is the first time Topaz goes against the IPC’s wishes, and it won’t be the last.

She made her choice, she demonstrated who and what she truly cares about, and that will only drive a wedge between her and the IPC further and further until she snaps.

I find it funny how Topaz is a fire type character, when the song core to Belabog’s themes is “Wildfire” 

However, maybe it isn’t just about them. I think it’s about the Preservation, about what the game in general is trying to tell its players.

How fighting for your right to exist will hurt, but it is not impossible, and that pain will be the only way to enact change.

Well, Topaz,

you made your choice

go fight against your fate 

Thank you so much for reading! I really enjoyed making this and I hope you at least understand why I think Topaz is such a compelling character. I need an arc centered on her in the future and if I don’t get one then trust me things will be dealt with. She will get her just desserts.

[transmascutena]

the poor little meow meow-ifictation of saionji in this fandom has got to stop i can't take it any more

[thedaythatwas]

I’m just thinking long and hard about the way Akiren and Akechi are written as foils for each other. Because of course, the game drives it home for us that the two are narrative foils: Akiren is the champion of free will who finds power through his friendships, Akechi represents the ways society binds us. He is chained by his desire to be wanted (importantly, by the wrong people– I’ll get to that).

At first glance, Akiren and Akechi’s point of divergence has to do with their relationships– Akiren has confidants, Akechi doesn’t, and this is the deciding factor in Akiren’s victory over Akechi on November 20th and in the engine room. Still, while this is certainly part of what makes their relationship important as a narrative device, it’s not the full picture. That, I think, has more to do with the fact that they both desperately want the very relationships that are used to foil them. They have common ground, and that’s what makes the emotional beats of their differences hit as hard as they do.

Even though Akechi doesn’t have the close bonds that Akiren does with his friends, he is defined as a character by his desire to belong. He wants to be praised and given everything he feels he was denied by Shido’s callous disregard for his mother and society’s unjust treatment of him after her death. He was a self-proclaimed “undesirable child” who spent his young adult life doing everything in his power to never feel unwanted again. He literally spells it out in his engine room monologue– “I was extremely particular about my life, my grades, my public image, so someone would want me around!”

Akiren, like Akechi, begins his character arc as a social outcast. Unlike Akechi, who appeals to systemic power to claim social clout and chase his own sense of belonging (the Shido revenge plot, which would, uhm, theoretically end with Shido acknowledging his son’s worth), Akiren finds family with other outcasts. All of the Phantom Thieves understand his struggle, and because of this they foster a sense of understanding and community that Akechi never gets to experience.

It is important to note that these bonds are deepened when Akiren helps those around him. While there’s absolutely nothing bad about doing things for the people you care about– in fact, most would argue that this is what makes a friendship a good one– we can take a reasonable guess that Akiren craves the love of those around him just a bit more than is healthy for him. He plays therapist for half of Tokyo– he stretches himself absurdly thin for the sake of his friends. That’s a bit much to ask of one person, but Akiren seems to demand it of himself. This is the nature of confidant routes as a game mechanic, of course, but hey, reading into game mechanics is important to getting a solid reading of who Akiren is behind the mask!

The crux of it is, Akiren and Akechi are both lonely characters. Their desire to be loved quite literally drives the narrative of the game, both in terms of plot and gameplay. What makes their foiling so tragic is the fact that Akechi so obviously wants what he has himself determined he can’t have. He says as much in the engine room when he questions why Akiren has things that he doesn’t, despite being (as he says) criminal trash living in an attic.

And yet, Akechi’s isolation is frankly the result of his own decisions. He is the one who chooses to work for Shido. He is the one who acts on a worldview that requires he keep his cards close to his chest to win— against Shido and against the world that wronged him— and to be considered desirable (even despite the fact that this mindset obviously works against satiating his hunger to be loved. He really needs to go to therapy, but I digress).

I don’t think Akechi even knows how to go about claiming what Akiren managed to. Akechi has agency in the actions he takes, absolutely– he would be furious about any suggestion to the contrary– but in many ways, the choices he feels himself able to make are constrained by his circumstances and the lessons imparted to him by his past.

All this to say, Akechi and Akiren aren’t different because Akechi doesn’t want teammates, or even friends. He sincerely wants everything Akiren has. He tells us this in the engine room. He shoots himself in the foot by prioritizing approval from society and love from Shido above other relationships. But thinking from inside his shoes, what else was he going to do? Where else would he have thought to turn to find what he wanted? He was dealt a horrible hand and he played his cards according to the rule book he was given. If the world were just, Akiren and Akechi wouldn’t be foils. It’s the injustice implicit in that that really drives home the point I think P5 is trying to make when it foils Akiren and Akechi in the first place. It also, personally, has been making me want to scream all day.

On a related note, this is also the exact reason that Akechi being the one to bring up that things might have been different if only he met Akiren a few years sooner makes me want to throw things, but this post is long enough. I’ll save all that for later!

[rivkae-winters]

Zack Fair, Violence, and Tragedy

Over the last month or two I’ve seen several posts about the nature of Zack Fair’s tragedy and his seeming heel-toe-turn and thought I’d chime in. 

Also like last time: this is only my interpretation of canon, there is no one true analysis to take as gospel. If you disagree/differ in opinion/even just want to talk please reblog or dm! I enjoy talking to other people about this sort of thing, fandom is all about discussion after all!

While I agree with the sentiment I’ve seen going around that Zack’s relationship to violence plays a role there are other nuances and factors at play here. I’d argue that it’s more accurate to say that Zack is becoming more aware of personal and professional culture outside of SOLDIER and outside of both ShinRa’s constraining grip and Angeal’s attempts at protection. Even then it takes great personal tragedy caused by the inherent contradictions of ShinRa’s reality for him to realize that he has functionally been on the wrong side.  

Sure he’s not callous like Cloud is in the beginning of original and Remake, but he certainly isn’t horrified at his actions just because there is violence. I’d argue the violence of his actions isn’t the main horror to him in isolation. I’d argue that even the death that results from violence isn’t what the core of the issue is either. 

Zack’s hinging point is more his loyalty and his pride. What he does for other people and what he believes in and of himself. Specifically these things in conjunction with his desire to be a good person. 

The language of Pride, the non-localized direct translation of the word hokori or 誇り(JP CC Script), is what’s going to be used here rather than Honor. 

誇り | Hokori - To take pride in; To boast of

Definition Sources: 1, 2, 3

Just keep in mind that I’ve written this from as neutral a point of view as possible on the matter of pride since the Western perception definitively does not apply. To be proud is not a crime and it is not foolish it simply is. 

Zack initially places his pride in SOLDIER- in what being a SOLDIER means to him. In how being a SOLDIER is his and that they are his people and thus he lets ShinRa policies define how he frames his morality. Thus ShinRa defines good in Zack Fair’s life. 

Zack wants to be a hero. He wants to help people. He is trusting and kind and respectful to people consistently outside of the conflict of the mass desertion. Zack genuinely wants to be a good person and help other people, good or otherwise. He is led to believe by ShinRa propaganda that the best way to help people or to be anything meaningful in this world is through them. This is a baited trap that he falls into, Zack is prime prey this trap was intended to catch. 

He is angry at Genesis and horrified by Angeal, especially at the beginning, not for cruelty or violence or even really death… He is angry at them for their betrayal. Sure he is violent and angry in the instance he thinks Angeal has murdered his own mother, as with Genesis and his parents, but that does not define his antagonism, his hatred, his regret, his sense of justice with them at all. 

 Zack does not raise his sword at Genesis for the people of Banora, he raises his sword for SOLDIER. 

Zack understandably feels, and has been, betrayed. 

He is hurt and angry and alone in a way he’s never been since he got into the SOLDIER program. He falls deeper into the illusions of ShinRa for that reason, angry and hurting and grieving the life he had with people in it who will never return. There is a deep sense of nostalgia throughout Crisis Core in the sense of the word’s initial meaning: the pain of missing home. Specifically the homes we find in people.

Even as he believes in ShinRa's twisted reality Zack wants to help. He wants to protect those he cares for. Zack wants to be good. Unfortunately in Zack Fair’s life the undisputed definition of good is now written by the ShinRa Electric Power Corporation alone.

Then he meets Aerith. 

Suddenly ShinRa’s version of right and wrong have opposition but the control that ShinRa has over his life, total and complete as it is, prevents that from sinking in. Zack is perceptive though, around Aerith he is her version of good and then he has to go back to what equates to his phase of reality. A sanctuary is not safe, not truly, when watchers are peering in through the back door ready to drag you out by your feet if you misstep. 

Zack wants to be a man Aerith or anyone won’t be scared of. He wants to do that not because he is suddenly horrified at his own violence but rather in consideration of others. Zack is highly empathetic after all once he can see someone else’s perspective. He wants to be what Aerith wants, even if he doesn’t really and truly understand it yet, because he cares about her and cares about her opinion. He cares about her comfort. Zack still puts most of his pride within SOLDIER though. That means that Aerith’s morals cannot sink through his skin to his center, not like Angeal’s had. She makes him think but she is not shaping his mind, he is left to do that himself.

 Zack spends a lot of time questioning Angeal and being upset at and about him off screen even more than on screen. We don’t get a front row seat for all of it. The big takeaway is that Zack doesn’t shed Angeal’s morals that he’s taken on himself. He can’t after all, not with ShinRa only just seeming tarnished. ShinRa would need to rust and crumble fully before he actually can let them go. Before he can be free in his own mind.

ShinRa chips and rusts in an instant under Sephiroth’s hand. The last holdout crumbled in the fight of two victims of ShinRa and someone who will become one soon. ShinRa is no longer the defined of good, not after what Zack sees is the response to the Nibelheim Incident.

ShinRa not being good, worse even ShinRa being bad breaks the entire morality system. The illusions crack and Zack is forced to examine himself, his actions, and his biases in ways Aerith made him want to but that he couldn’t afford to truly indulge in. Even more that he was scared of self introspection in a sense, of the paradigm of his reality shifting even further. 

He eventually truly reframes his actions and has to reckon with them (and himself) at the end of the game, chapter 9 and onwards. It is only then that he actually LOOKS and is fully horrified by what he sees of himself. That horror only progresses as he fights for both his and Cloud’s lives. That horror only builds as he realizes he’s exactly the person who his girlfriend SHOULD be terrified of despite his best attempts- that he’s everything she was talking about. He’s everything she was talking about even after trying to change the way he acts around her. 

To abuse the innate metaphors: Zack Fair goes to Nibelheim, a well trained attack dog, still seeing relatively little wrong with fulfilling ShinRa’s orders. Zack is only then on the cusp of figuring out that he does not want to be there, that he is the antagonist of the planet’s (and Aerith’s) story unwittingly. 

Zack Fair leaves Nibelheim beaten. He tries to go back to the safety of what was once his home prior to ShinRa only to be waylaid. 

Zack Fair leaves Banora free and irrevocably changed. 

He is free in the sense that the illusions he held himself too are crumbling even more with knowledge that his demons are men too. He is free through the knowledge that he is one of those demons. , that he has been shaped to be one, and that good intentions pave a terribly walkable path to hell. 

Zack leaves with the knowledge that he was the monster in the closet. The knowledge that his sword was not just the executioner’s blade but the enforcer’s. The sword kept clean in favor of bloody hands and higher risks is now drowning in pools of it. Zack leaves with the knowledge that he never would have been truly free. 

Yet he is in the sense that he can choose- actually choose- what he wants, what he values. He chooses Aerith and he chooses Cloud as he has each time before. He chooses violence. It is something he knows and among what he is good at. It is not all he is but it is a tool he can use. 

He chooses to pay the price of freedom. 

Crisis Core is a tragedy and Zack and Genesis both are tragic figures at its center. Zack’s arc is angled to the viewer for maximum effect but Genesis’s does mirror it in a way just on an offset path already initiated. Sephiroth is also a tragic character, undeniably so. However structure wise his role is more murky given the way he has the ability to be the god waiting in the machine, a guaranteed victory or unavoidable altered trajectory should he choose to act, for most of the story. 

And that’s a large part of why I love Zack as a character, aside from things I’ve said before about what makes him such a good narrator. Zack is the unlucky prodigy at the center of a story about wars, abusers, connections, and perspectives. He wants to be good, he wants to be a person that helps. 

He can’t, not really, not in the way he wants. 

Crisis Core is a cautionary tale about exactly that going wrong and how anyone can be taken advantage of. 

[t1sunfortunate]

I truly do think one of the largest pitfalls among the "media consumption is my passion" crowd is the tendency to treat characters as human beings with agency rather than narrative tools manipulated by the author

[finalgirlsamwinchester]

to round out tonight's humphris-gamble spiral: the 2.14 exorcism as an almost prophetic play-by-play of 4.21, with both episodes featuring the dean-bobby familial unit bringing a monstrous sam back under control (meg, earlier in 2.14: 'meg? no. not anymore. i'm sam'). and the different parting glances between sam and bobby here. bobby's wary, assessing look in 2.14 vs. the 'what's become of you' face he's making in 4.21. sam's anxious smile in 2.14, seeking reassurance, vs. his look of worn down despair post-panic room in 4.21. a sam who still hopes that his monstrosity might be treated as something external to himself, a demon to be exorcised vs. a sam face-to-face with the barrel of a gun, knowing that he is The Monster in this story (dean in 4.21 later telling him, 'it's what you are').

[lovegrowsart]

the argument i keep seeing that the choice qimir gives to osha to leave the island in episode six isn't a "real choice" because in the real world it'd maybe be realistically logistically/physically difficult to cross that body of water is driving me up the wall because it's such literal thinking when star wars has never been and will never be concerned with what's realistic or logistically plausible. there's fire in space in the first episode of the show, because fire needed to be there to give osha that moment of flashback to the trauma of her childhood and help further establish her character - it's entirely in service to the story, doesn't matter that that's not how it works irl.

the reason the ship is there is because it needed to be in the distance to facilitate the visual storytelling - osha looking back at the ship, her chance to flee/escape the underworld, then looking back at qimir walking away off screen and making the choice to follow him. that's literally (heh) it. he even suggests waiting for low tide if she wants an easier time of it if we're gonna be that concerned about how oh so terribly hard it'd be for osha - who is an adult ex jedi and a mechanic that does such dangerous jobs on space ships that the republic legit made it illegal for anyone but droids to do them - to manage a bit of a difficult swim :(

ymmv on the qimir being manipulative angle, but i think it'd benefit a lot of people's understanding of the dynamic between osha and qimir in episode six to remember that star wars is fairytale - it is metaphorical and psychological mythology. it is not realistic or grounded in reality, nor is it meant to be read with realism in mind, because then you're simply analysing/critiquing from a position that the story isn't operating from.

you don't have to take a creator's words into consideration when developing your own interpretation, but such things can be helpful and valuable. leslye headland's made her intentions re: osha and qimir's dynamic pretty clear - that it's not meant to be manipulative, that one of the purposes of episode six was to explore qimir's "lighter" side and osha's "darker" side (hence the wholly unsubtle costuming choices, him in natural-looking off-white and osha entirely in solid grey). while qimir isn't being wholly honest with her right off the bat (cause why would he be?), he also isn't deceiving or tricking her about anything re: who he is and what he's about - how could he? she knows his face. she knows entirely what he's capable of and what he did in episode five. he can't play the master and the fool the way he did with mae, he can only be as honest as a man like him can be if he wants her to listen to him. i don't think she's naive about him at all, and i think people struggle with understanding that - that she doesn't have any illusions about his morality or lack thereof - and understanding that she still has the agency and desire to listen to what he has to say. you can believe it isn't "good" for her to listen to him, sure, but that doesn't mean she's being maliciously manipulated maliciously.

[casually-eat-my-soul]

It’s the dynamic between the character that is running towards something and the charcter running after them

The character that looks to the sky and the character that looks at them

The character who has bright eyes and ambitions and the character who has scarred knuckles and bloody teeth

The character who dies for their beliefs and the character who holds them as they do

The character who gets to rest and the one who gets left behind

[stylographic-blue-rhapsody]

I was deep in my drunk feelings when I made a joke post threatening to write about episode 5 symbolism and mizu, but then enough people said "where is the essay" so I am here to ramble as requested 

in ep 5, the tale told in the puppet show spliced with the flashback sequence of mizu’s marriage identifies mizu as not only the ronin, but also the bride and, with tragedy, the onryō. I would argue that mizu is also depicted (in a less linear fashion) as the phoenix itself, and will circle back to this thought later

mizu is first presented as the ronin, the warrior with a singular purpose. as the ronin’s lord is assassinated by the rival clan, mizu’s mother is killed in the house fire. the ronin swears his revenge, and dedicates his life to this cause. through his childhood and into his young adult life when he departs from swordfather, mizu is exclusively the ronin. he is not the onryō yet, demonstrated in his honorable unwillingness to harm the men who stab him and throw him out of the shop even after he insists that he wasn't looking for a fight in the first place

the ronin is only able to rest and put away his mission when he meets the bride, the lover. however, mizu’s bride is not literally another person she meets. the bride is not mama, or mikio, but the lover mizu discovers in herself, the one allowed to bloom in place of mizu-as-ronin. mizu’s growth into the bride from the ronin occurs over time, but solidifies in the moment when kai is gifted to her by mikio, paralleling the taming of her own distrust and expectations of being hurt. (side note, giving a nod to effective use of color: the bride puppet, dressed in reds and oranges, has matching coloring to the gifting scene, as it takes place in autumn)

mizu’s transformation into the onryō happens in two parts, beginning with the slaying of the bride and completing with the slaying of the ronin. the betrayal by mikio and mama kills the softness in mizu, kills the lover she has allowed herself to become. mizu-as-onryō retaliates by killing the ronin: the part of himself that hesitates before striking, that part that cares for honor. in not intervening in mama’s death and then murdering mikio in turn, mizu kills the ronin in himself, slaughtering it in retribution for the dead bride

mizu is both the bride and the ronin, peaceful lover and noble warrior, until he is not—he is the onryō, only the onryō. episode 5 opens with the narrator saying, “no one man can defeat an army, but one creature can.” only as the onryō, and not as the ronin or the bride, does mizu have the force of will and capacity for violence it takes to singlehandedly overcome boss hamata’s thousand claw army and protect the brothel

mizu’s identity and place in the world is a constant dialogue. he is too white to have a respectable place in japanese society, but is also seen by abijah (our stand-in for white british society) as filthy and corrupted. he is not perceived as enough of a man to walk through life wholly as one (madame kaji’s comments about his apparent lack of sexual desires, his bones breaking “like a woman’s” under fowler’s hands, his disregard for honor and recognition as a samurai). she is also not enough of a woman to exist peacefully as one with mikio (she is a swordsman, an accomplished rider, bad at domesticity; “what woman doesn’t want a husband?” mama chastises)

the moment when mikio rejects her completely following their spar is a particularly poignant narrative beat about tolerance of “the other” in gender presentation: mikio can accept her as a woman only until she bests him at manhood, at the sword, at violence. she is Other in that she is physically strong, a poor cook, able to wield a sword. these traits are all tolerable to mikio, also an outcast, so long as she is not so Other as to be a man. but her swordsmanship bests his, and bests his in the way the sun outshines a candle. it is too Other, and therefore she is not a woman. she is a monster to him, the onryō, even before she kills the bride and the ronin in herself

(( as an aside, this series does a very good job at discussing the oft-challenging relationship between race and gender (e.g. that it is difficult for mizu to live as a biracial man, but would be deadly for her to live as a biracial woman), and demonstrating how queerness of identity complicates that relationship even further—but that’s a topic for a different post ))

as the narrative has been building on this idea that mizu is both the ronin and the bride, the man and the woman, japanese and white, episode 5 concludes with the heartbreaking reveal that, although mizu is all of these things simultaneously, he has had these identities beaten out of him by tragedy and cruelty and his own self-loathing hand

but mizu does not stagnate as the monster. we return to the metaphor of steel: too pure and it becomes brittle, breaking under pressure. mizu is a sword, a weapon that he has forged for the sole purpose of revenge and blood, but he has excised too much of himself to successfully deliver on his goals—he is not the ronin or the bride, he is the onryō; she is not a woman or a man, she is the onryō; the onryō is nothing but pain and vengeance—and so it breaks

“perhaps a demon cannot make steel,” mizu says. “I am a bad artist” 

swordfather replies, “an artist gives all they have to the art, the whole. your strengths and deficiencies, your loves and shames. perhaps the people you collected… if you do not invite the whole, the demon takes two chairs, and your art will suffer”

to be reforged, mizu must not only acknowledge the impurities she has beaten out of her blade, out of herself, but lovingly, radically accept them and reincorporate them into the blade, into herself. he adds impure steel—the people he has collected, with their own dualities—to the sheared meteorite sword: the broken blade that fit so perfectly in taigen’s hand (the archetypal ronin, but a man seeking happiness over glory), the knife akemi tried to murder mizu with (the archetypal bride, but with ambition for greatness), the bell given to ringo and returned to mizu in broken trust (the man unable to hold a sword, but upholding samurai principles of honor and wisdom), the tongs that honed mizu’s smithcraft under swordfather’s guidance (the artisan, a blind man who sees more than most). to make of herself a blade strong enough to see her promises through, she must hold her monstrosity and honor and compassion and artistry in equal import

she is the onryō, and the ronin, and the bride, and all the people she has collected.

with this we finally come to mizu as the phoenix. mizu undergoes many cycles of death and rebirth, both in the main storyline and the flashbacks into her life leading up to the present. often, mizu is juxtaposed against literal flames—the burning of his childhood home, swordfather’s forge, the fire as he battles the giant in the infiltrated castle, the heart sutra forge of her own making, the climactic second confrontation with fowler. not every death/rebirth mizu undergoes is thematic to flame, of course. the fight with the four fangs, spliced with the rebirth ceremony of the town, for example, or the deaths of her ronin-self and bride-self, giving rise to the onryō

he is the phoenix, unable to truly die: every fatal combat he pulls back from the brink, reborn over and over in the wake of failure and setback. in episode 1, mizu prays for the gods to “let [him] die.” not to help him to face death unafraid, not to die with honor or victory, but to die at all. mizu has experienced death a thousand times over, but not once has it stuck

(( as a parting aside: the ronin’s rage at the phoenix clan for killing his lord parallels mizu’s self hatred of his mixed heritage (which he believes to be the thing that killed his mother), and so the ronin’s quest for revenge against the phoenix clan is mirrored in mizu’s quest to kill the white part of himself as best he can, by killing the white men who could be his father ))

mizu, the ronin. mizu, the bride. mizu, the onryō. mizu, the phoenix.

[nootcatt]

TGCF and the Literary Tropes

Okay so this is a long text post, but its something I've been through and discussing a lot.

I’ve mentioned this before, but let me say it more clearly: in my opinion, there’s no such thing as being “doomed by the narrative” in Heaven Official’s Blessing (TGCF) by MXTX. It’s an important distinction because it sets MXTX’s storytelling apart from other narratives where characters are often victims of fate with no real agency. MXTX understands probability, and does not operate by the ‘but what if!’.

For those unfamiliar with the term, “doomed by the narrative” refers to a trope where a character’s fate is sealed or predetermined by the structure of the story itself. Essentially, it means that no matter what the character does—regardless of their actions, intentions, or desires—the plot is already designed to lead them toward an inevitable downfall, failure, or tragic end. It’s a form of narrative determinism, where the story traps a character in an inescapable fate. This idea is commonly seen in tragedies or stories centered around themes of fate and destiny, where even the audience often feels that sense of looming disaster, even if the character does not.

While TGCF is a novel rich with themes of fate and destiny, it doesn’t employ the “doomed by the narrative” trope. Instead, the story revolves around other different ideas, such as “you reap what you sow.” In TGCF, the characters—especially the gods—face the consequences of their own actions. From the Banyue Arc to the final arc, we consistently see this pattern. No character suffers without reason, and no fate is forced upon them by the structure of the story itself. Their actions, choices, and motivations directly shape their outcomes.

In TGCF, fate is not something manipulated by MXTX to move the plot forward or force a tragic conclusion. She doesn’t kill off characters just because it serves the story or because she’s trying to make a point about destiny. Instead, fate in TGCF functions more like an ecosystem—a natural cycle where actions have consequences. It’s a world where what goes around comes around, and every character is accountable for the decisions they make.

Consider the Blackwater Arc (FengShui Di Arc) as an example. Many have discussed this before, so it’s not something you have never come across. It’s a key moment in understanding how fate operates in TGCF. Shi Wudu is faced with an impossible moral dilemma, a classic “trolley problem.” He has to choose between sacrificing the life of a stranger and their family or allowing his beloved younger brother, Shi Qingxuan, to die a death more tragic than anyone can imagine. For Shi Wudu, this is not a simple decision; he has dedicated his entire life to protecting his brother. Older brothers are like parents, to their younger siblings. Shi Wudu does not regret making the decision he did. In the end, he makes the choice to switch the tracks, saving his brother at the cost of another’s life and family.

As the arc unfolds, we see that Shi Wudu must also face the consequences of his decision. He is driven mad by the end of the arc, and his punishment is both brutal and symbolic—his head is ripped off, an echo of the price he paid for his brother’s safety. Shi Wudu made a choice that could be viewed as understandable or even noble, but he also committed a grave wrong. And in the world of TGCF, he reaps what he sowed. Even in his final moments, He Xuan gives Shi Wudu a choice, he can still reverse the tracks and fix it, or die at the hands of the person he chose over him, and Shi Wudu stands by his decision, telling Shi Qingxuan, “Gege will go ahead and wait for you.” He does not regret his sacrifice. He is killed for it. His end is a form of cosmic justice. Despite the tragedy, there’s no sense that he was doomed from the start—his downfall is the direct result of his own actions.

This principle also applies to He Xuan. “But He Xuan suffered so much; he deserved his revenge.” That’s the point. He Xuan’s story is not one of a man doomed by fate, but rather a man consumed by revenge. He Xuan, who endured unimaginable suffering and betrayal, chose to devote his existence to vengeance. He had already avenged his suffering by killing the people responsible—he became a Ghost King, devoured the Jinx Demon, and infiltrated heaven. He gained power, status, and acceptance among the Heavenly Officials. Shi Wudu changed his fate so that he could no longer ascend? Here he is, a god (and an elemental god, instead of a civil god like he would have been if his fate hadn’t been switched). He could have lived peacefully, yet his obsession with revenge defined every move he made.

Even when He Xuan had achieved everything he should have wanted—status, wealth, respect—he couldn’t let go. His fixation on vengeance led him to destroy the very peace he could have had. By the end of the arc, when Shi Wudu asks if he’s happy, He Xuan’s answer is a hollow “yes,” fueled by the sight of Shi Wudu’s suffering. But as Shi Wudu points out, this revenge has changed nothing. Shi Qingxuan, despite the tragedies, had lived a better, fuller life than He Xuan. Shi Wudu’s words break He Xuan, driving him into a final fit of rage where he decapitates Shi Wudu and refuses to let Shi Qingxuan die, just to prevent the brothers from reuniting in death. What does he get in the end? Nothing, but the head of Shi Wudu and a life time of brooding in the nether water manor.This act of spite is not the work of a man doomed by narrative fate—it’s the result of He Xuan’s choices, driven by his inability to let go of vengeance.

In conclusion, TGCF does not operate on the idea that its characters are “doomed by the narrative.” MXTX creates a world where actions have consequences, where fate is shaped by the decisions characters make, and where justice—whether deserved or tragic—is always a direct result of their choices. The characters in TGCF are not trapped by an unavoidable destiny but by the weight of their own actions. It’s a powerful form of storytelling that places responsibility on the characters themselves, rather than the structure of the story.

[g0nta-g0kuhara]

laying face down on the floor wondering if I am not seeing certain characters' relationships to the core themes of the game because I don't appreciate them enough/correctly or if they genuinely aren't super central to the core themes of the game

[doodlejoltik]

my favourite writing device is having an un-Rei-liable narrator

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

the writing in csm is genuinely so genius but it’s also so . crude . and i think that’s the reason people misunderstand it so often. it makes you feel deeply uncomfortable and it Should but that doesn’t make it bad . you need to pay attention to the undertones and narrative and i genuinely don’t think a lot of shounen fans bother to 😭😭

[absent-o-minded]

Tiny YR S3 Analysis

Just wanted to compare the parallels between these two hand holds in 3x05 and 3x06:

(Please ignore the shitty screencaps, I tried my best)

In terms of composition, these shots are identical. A hand-hold centre to the frame, in a car with the camera placed in the middle. However, they're underpinned by different narrative contexts.

Here, the first shot from 3x05 is drenched in darkness. The actual lighting inside of the car is dim enough to obscure both of their suits, which almost blend them into the seats and so it becomes hard to distinguish between the two of them - The only focussed light is on their conjoined hands. Notably, the actual touch itself is tentative, almost like the bridging of an awkward divide on the way to the palace. Neither of them are sure what the touch actually means. Even their sleeves fall over their wrists and interfere with the actual act, so we only see the bottom half of their hands. Simon reaches out first and places his hand in the open sliver between the two seats before Wille accepts and laces their fingers together. It's an assured squeeze that reads as: "I'm not sure what will happen. I'm nervous." "I am too."

This scene has garnered a lot of analysis for its parallel to the Kristina x Wille car scene in S1 where people have commented on the reversal of blocking - Wille now assumes Kristina's position and Simon equally assumed Wille's. We now know that this arrives before the birthday explosion, and so it's also a touch that signifies confronting the inner workings of an oppressive environment (the palace). It's nerve-wracking and cautious and consolidating, but it's also doubtful. We, as spectators, pick up on visual and physical cues and so we begin to see the hand-hold as an visual indicator that the unity between the two characters is about to be disrupted.

~~~~~

However, the shot in 3x06 reads entirely differently. The first thing is that the shot is bathed in light. It's a bit like an embrace, contrasting the previous presentation of a cold backseat, Simon and Wille are literally basking in the sun. Most importantly, there is a light flashing on Wille as it seeps in from the windows, illuminating his spot as a person who is newly free. Simon sits to the left with the natural light (no abundance of light) because Simon has always strived to be free. He has never turned away from the light. As he said earlier in the episode: "I never gave up on us. I gave up on the royal court." For Simon, the issue was never the fear of being free, but the constraint of not being free. For Wille, fear hung over his shoulders just like a King's robe would. Being free was an aspiration, never a reality.

But that has all changed. The light is let in. It stands similar to a spot-light, where Wille finally lets the sun hit his body and not have it scorch him, but rather enlighten him.

The actual act of holding hands is no longer bridging an uncomfortable space; It's an assured togetherness. It is the two of them acknowledging everything that has happened and knowing that a future for the two of them is no longer a "possibility", but a truth. It's giddy and confident and safe.

It's also the final touch of the season, and so it had to speak louder than dialogue ever could - Which I think that it does. Throughout S1 and S2, we understood that physical touch was always done in private, or if not, it was done discreetly with the knowledge that it was fleeting. S3 saw the transition from private to public, but not without the fight to touch and not have it be seen as a revolution. To just let it be what it is. And THIS is what the show has been working towards for 3 years. It can all be summarised with this simple, final hand hold in a sunny car that's racing towards a future that finally, finally resembles their dreams. It's not overtly revolutionary, it's not a grand gesture; It's just theirs.