#Hermit's lament

[octarinespill]

David Flaugher - Hermit's lament, 2024

[kaurwreck]

for the ask game: LILAC CHARCOAL AND RASPBERRY

anon this is so sweet 😭

[ask game provided below for reference; if you'd like to play, please reblog from OP here:]

[something-of-a-hermit]

Did you guys know there is nothing stopping you from putting a fun charm/pendant on a hoop earring and becoming 100% cooler?

[leodeserti]

Planned a short meetup with a friend on my precious day off!! I'm not entirely hopeless! *Crowd cheering noises*

[daytaker]

"This is why it's called the House of Lamentation."

Every once in a while when one of the brothers gets upset about something, they'll say, "So this is why it's called the House of Lamentation."

Any time they do, Lucifer stares them down and proceeds to tell the story of how actually, it got this name because of the mass murder that happened there? So there were seven brothers, and...

Lucifer: Satan! Satan: What now. Lucifer: Did you turn Leviathan into a hermit crab? Satan: Why in the world would I do that? Lucifer: Don't try to divert me with meaningless questions. Did you or did you not? Satan: I did. Lucifer: Grounded. Satan: Oh, HELL FORBID I enjoy myself at all in this place. Now I know why it's called the House of Lamentation instead of the House of Fun. Lucifer: Actually-

[yacinthemorning]

Siren's Song

Summary: Tango and Jimmy have been pining after one another for years at this point. Tango's been acting on incomplete information, and Jimmy's siblings are tired of his silence.

Ships: Jimmy/Tango (Romantic), Grian & Jimmy & Lizzie & Pearl (Familial)

Warnings: Misunderstandings, awkward conversations

[AO3 Link]

“You should tell him.”

Jimmy hummed, not paying attention as he cracked an egg on the side of a sizzling pan. “Tell who? And what?”

“Tango.”

The whole kitchen operation ground to a halt. Even the bacon seemed to sizzle a bit quieter. Dreading it, Jimmy turned around to face his guest. Grian was slumped across the table, getting the pungent stench of sea brine locked in his sweater and long whiskers all over Jimmy’s nice tablecloth. At least he left his boots and rod by the door.

Within his hand was a golden feather. Quite literally. A gift forged just for Jimmy in the absence of Tango possessing his own wings. Given Jimmy knew for a fact he’d last placed it in his jewellery box, his brother was most certainly snooping through his things for it. Had Tango told him about it? Or was it Pearl betraying him?

Lizzie sat beside him, her teacup held still at her lips as her wide eyes darted between the two brothers. There was a look in her eyes when they landed on Jimmy, though. When were you going to tell me about this? Only Pearl’s chair sat empty still, her snores echoing down the corridor.

Taking a deep breath as to not shout or scream or anything else that might give him away, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Jimmy, you’ve been dancing around it for two years.”

“Yes, and?”

“Haven’t you thought of how to tell him at all?”

“Of course I have!” Jimmy snapped, throwing his hands in the air. “I’ve been trying, but it’s... Tango’s just so...” He turned on his heels, abandoning his work all together, and held up his comm for his siblings to see. “Look! Look at this!”

Both leaned in. It was a photo, one in a set sent from his beloved rancher from Hermitcraft of his new base. Tango was in the foreground, big goofy grin on his face as he held up a peace sign. In the background was the beginnings of the airship he’d recently launched above his factory. And at the centre of it all...

Lizzie gasped, turning into a squeal halfway through. “Oooh, Jimmyyy!”

“Tim...” Grian said, pity and schadenfreude in equal parts. Jimmy groaned.

It was a mess, but it was unmistakable. A nest, made of over-stuffed pillows and encompassed by a weave like a large basket. A nest, for when Jimmy came to visit. To make the avian feel comfortable...

“Mate, I’m absolutely screwed.” He lamented, shushing Grian before he could make a comment on his wording. “He’s out here making nests! For me!”

“Do you think he’s done his research?” Asked Lizzie, even while her shining gaze remained on the picture.

“Oh gosh, I hope not!” The only thing worse than Tango building him a nest would be Tango telling any of the hermit avians what he was doing. He slumped across the table. “What do I do...”

“Tell. Him.” Grian hissed, waving the golden feather in front of Jimmy. “Honestly, I don’t know why you haven’t yet. It’s like you just let every chance pass you by as far back as double life itself. Honestly, I know things are different in the games-”

“You have that right! I didn’t even know if I’d see him again!” Jimmy pointed out, even as his face heated. He needed to go jump in the sea.

And it was all so very true. When he awoke back on Empires he hadn’t known what to do with himself or his feelings. It’s not as if he and Tango had overlapping lives outside the games, and the games were never a guarantee to happen unless his brother thought of one. As far as they were concerned, they could have never crossed paths again, the feelings Jimmy stupidly let grow left adrift. He probably would have left it that way, too, if his brother hadn’t made that portal. But now it was two years later and they messaged almost every day, and Tango was doing all sorts of silly things he’d only half-heard second-hand about avians, and like a coward Jimmy still hadn’t told him...

“Just come back with me for a visit and talk to him.” Grian said, handing over the feather.

Easier said than done.

But he could tell looking at his siblings they wouldn’t take no for an answer. Jimmy had a sinking suspicion, with where Pearl and Grian lived this season, Tango might find out on accident even if Jimmy didn’t tell him himself. Nothing could be worse than Grian telling him. “Alright.” He muttered, every appendage drooping.

“Excellent, we’ll leave tomorrow.”

“What’s this? Is Jimothy coming with us?” Croaked Pearl, stumbling into the kitchen. There was already mischief in her eyes.

Jimmy turned to Lizzie with the biggest, most pleading eyes he could muster. She only smiled and waved, “Go get em, tiger!”

He was doomed.

Jimmy stumbled out into Hermitcraft on a well-kept lawn, and yelped as the cold air hit him. “Wait, wait! My glamour!”

“Come on, Tim. Fix it later, Tango’s waiting!”

His siblings giggled as they ran off, leaving Jimmy to deal with himself. With a grumble he turned to his comm. Mods were not something Jimmy was good with navigating, and despite how they played Hermitcraft had so very many. The last time he was on the server he’d been glamoured for the charity event they’d put on, and never changed before he left.

Enraptured by the settings, he’d only just navigated to the right tab when hot breath brushed his ear, “Hey there, cowboy!”

Jimmy shrieked, accidentally slamming down on his comm. In a puff enormous wings erupted from his back and flared out, only slightly hindered as they slammed into something- someone- else. Tango let out a cry, followed by a hard thunk.

Jimmy spun around, eyes wide and feathers puffed. “Oh my gosh, you scared the life out of me! Are you okay?”

Splayed out on the ground, face contorted in pain but held up a shaky thumbs-up. “I probably deserved that.” He wheezed. Jimmy leaned down and heaved the poor blazeborn back up onto his feet. Both winced as his back cracked. “Ugh, you been working those out?”

“They’re wings, Tango, they can lift me into the sky.” He teased back while he brushed the dust off Tango. That sunshine grin was already back on Tango’s face, making it hard not to melt. Instead, Jimmy booped his nose, getting a whine, before pulling him into a hug. “Hey, my rancher.”

A rumble rippled through Tango into Jimmy as his clawed hands wrapped around Jimmy’s torso. “So, what do we owe the pleasure of your visit, songbird?”

“I came to see you, actually.” Murmured Jimmy through a wince. Now began the hard part.

Tango cooed, tail wrapping around Jimmy’s ankle. “Aw, little old me? Miss my losing personality and uncharming bad looks?”

“Stop that!” He huffed, reaching up to mess with Tango’s warm, fiery locks. The playfulness slowly died, though. It was happening today, he promised. “I, um, actually...”

“Hm?” Tango leaned back to look at him.

“There’s... There was something I wanted to talk to you about. Something important. And also something I wanted to give to you.”

Lips pursed for a moment, before Tango seemed to catch on. “Oh! Uh, yeah, yeah. Here, c’mon, I got just the place we can talk!”

Like that he took off on his elytra, Jimmy following only a bit behind. The server had changed so much since he was last here, it felt like he’d never been on to begin with. There were certain builds he recognized, however. As soon as Tango’s airship came into view Jimmy figured exactly where they were going. He only hoped the wind cooled his face before they landed.

Just as suspected, Tango stumbled onto the ship deck and gestured for his rancher to follow him down into its belly. At the very back, in its own little special room, was the nest. It was even bigger in person, and Tango had clearly tried to work on it a bit more since he sent Jimmy that picture. There were now even flowers and trinkets woven in, and at some point Tango had thrown a familiar red sweater and less familiar orange blanket into it all.

“I, um, I heard from False that you’re supposed to use stuff from family and such to help make it, and I didn’t really wanna be presumptuous about anyone so I only got something from Grian and Pearl. I don’t... I don’t really know much about other origins, so...” Tango rambled, rubbing the back of his neck and looking anywhere but Jimmy. He seemed to debate, pacing towards and away once more from the nest, unsure if he should make himself comfortable. So, he had spoken to avians. Knew exactly what he was doing.

Jimmy let out a sigh and smiled. He reached out, snatching Tango’s wrist as he walked by once more, stopping him only for a second before pulling him over to sit in the nest. A funny little squeak left the blazeborn, his flames jumping about. “Tango, can I give you something I made?” He nearly whispered, trying to stamp out his nerves to hold Tango’s hands between his own.

The blazeborn nodded with another noise. Jimmy reached into his inventory. With a final deep breath he held it up. Tango sucked in a breath. His hands held out for the little necklace of small, multicoloured pearls and sea glass to fall into it. The centrepiece, carved out of driftwood and prismarine crystals, dangled off the side, fracturing the light emitting from Tango’s tail into a kaleidoscope across the blazeborn’s lap. It was Jimmy’s best work, if he could brag just a bit. Tango deserved far better, but it was Jimmy’s best.

“Bu- Blazeborn forge gifts, right?” He tried to explain, fiddling with the golden feather around his own neck. “For the people they care about. I wanted to make you something, too. I don’t know if there’s any rules of anything, I hope this is okay-”

“It’s amazing, Jim.” Tango breathed out. “You’re amazing.”

Jimmy’s face burned.

There was a silence, in which Tango carefully hooked the necklace around his neck, and stared in awe at it. Jimmy’s heart pounded in his chest at the sight. He never thought someone might look at something he made like that. Temptation pulled Jimmy forward ever so slowly, until Tango also looked up. They stayed there, faces inches apart soft breath ghosting one another’s skin.

Then Tango’s eyes, for only the smallest moment, darted. Nervous, perhaps, but it was curiosity that flitted through his gaze as it went over Jimmy’s shoulder. Towards...

The nest’s weave brushed roughly against Jimmy’s leg.

Jimmy’s swallowed hard, and licked his lips. “Tango, I have something to tell you.” He said, nearly croaked. Tango hummed, leaning in ever closer with half-lidded eyes. Jimmy took a deep breath.

“I’m... I’m not an avian.”

For a moment, nothing happened. And for a second moment, and a third. Until the cogs in Tango’s mind visible began spinning once more, and his first words were, “What?”

Both backed away, out of shock, out of shame. Jimmy stuttered, “I’m not an avian, I wasn’t born...” He lost his words, letting out a small, helpless whine as he gestured vaguely towards the nest. “This isn’t... how I do things...”

Tango’s gaze darted about with his mind, expression twisting between bewilderment and growing embarrassment. “When we were in double life-”

“It’s part of my curse.” He ran a hand through his hair, his wings beating behind him. “It turns me into this when we play the games. I wasn’t one before, or even during third life. I just use it sometimes as a glamour cause that’s how some people know me...”

“But Grian- your siblings-”

“They aren’t either. Grian made an avian glamour cause he liked flying so much. And Pearl and Lizzie just like dressing up for the games. When they joined they thought it’d be cute to match. I don’t think moth and butterfly hybrids are even avians, technically. They all- us all like using origin glamours a lot, I guess. We’ve all been quite a few things for various servers.”

Tango went quiet, and Jimmy whimpered. Guilt began to gnaw at his innards. A hand flicked up towards the nest, “So, all this is...” Jimmy just shook his head. A noise like a deflating balloon escaped the blazeborn, and Jimmy couldn’t take it anymore. He looked away.

“Tango, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to lie, I promise. It’s just... It didn’t seem so important back then. I didn’t think we’d ever speak outside the games so it didn’t even cross my mind to explain. Until you gave me that feather I’d not thought about it at all, I’m really sorry. You put so much-”

“What are you, then?”

It wasn’t unkind, his tone, but Jimmy’s fists curled into the cloth of his pants as if being scolded nevertheless. With a brush against his comm the glamour dissipated. Wings washed away into mush smaller and frailer fins, muddy brown tail stretching out across the blankets. His gills stuttered for a moment, expecting water to wash through them and only receiving air. Jimmy shifted uncomfortably, feeling himself drying out from the stress of it all. It shouldn’t feel like such a big deal to show his real face, should it?

But there was that little nagging tug in the back of his mind. A traitorous set of thoughts with no foundation for any of them, he knew, but they dug their way in anyways. What if Tango only liked his wings? What if a blazeborn couldn’t find anything to care for in a merman? What if he thought Jimmy deliberately deceived him? What if he lost his trust forever, or though Jimmy never trusted him to begin with?

It was all interrupted by a sudden shriek. Tango flung one arm out, the other against his forehead, eyes wide. “That’s why they’re all fishy fisherman! Oh my god!” He turned to Jimmy, as if he’d just solved the meaning of the universe. “I can’t believe I missed that! That’s why they’re so good at it...”

“Um, I guess so?” Jimmy stammered, entire body too tense to do anything else.

Revelations settling in, Tango finally seemed to take note of his rancher’s tension, and quieted. “Sorry... Just... I’m kinda stupid.”

“You’re not!” Jimmy snapped, grabbing hold of Tango’s hand before it could start digging into his skin. “You’re the smartest guy I know.”

Tango laughed, though why Jimmy didn’t know. His non-existent self-esteem was no laughing matter! There were few things Jimmy loathed more than the lies Tango told himself. But Tango’s expression then turned soft, and Jimmy was reminded this wasn’t about Tango. “Yeah?” He teased as his hands reached out. They cupped Jimmy’s face, pulling it in towards Tango’s own. “Well, you’re the funniest guy I know. And the coolest, and hardest working, and the cutest-”

“Stop.” whined Jimmy, his face unable to get any redder. It didn’t halt him in the slightest, only eliciting a gleeful chuckle.

“And the sweetest.”

He was going to die, his heart was going to burst right out of his chest and kill him. That’s all Jimmy could think in that moment, staring into Tango’s eye, filled to bursting with warmth and fondness. How did he wind up here, with someone looking at him like that? Before Jimmy could stop himself, he leaned forward. Their lips met for only moment, but so eagerly reciprocated. Not even fully separated yet, it slipped out, weak and longing, “I love you.”

Tango’s claws brushed back, combing through the hair behind Jimmy’s fins. “I love you too.” He whispered, as if it were a special secret he couldn’t stop himself from sharing. It’s what it felt like, to Jimmy’s poor heart. He was absolutely going to die right here, and he’d be just fine with that.

It took a while for the two to untangle. In the end, it was prompted by the small clack of prismarine against gold. Tango withdrew first, Jimmy following after him in a daze for a brief moment until he too awoke from their little dreamland. He held up the necklace, claws brushing over the pearls. “So... Is this what merman do? For, uh, for courting?”

Jimmy shook his head. “Oh, no, not usually. I just thought, you know. You’re a blazeborn and all... Unless you’re also not telling me the truth.”

“Born and raised.” He chirped, tail flicking for emphasis. Jimmy laughed.

“I suppose some people trade curiosities they find. It’s more about... spending time together? Doing things together, trying the same things, swimming beside one another, being close...”

“Well,” Tango drawled, wrapping an arm around the taller’s waist and pulling him close. “I can’t really do the swimmy swimmy thing, but I can most certainly get all up in your personal space if close is what you want.”

“You absolute menace!” Jimmy shrieked, though his grin never left. No, Jimmy was more than fine having Tango this close, and closer.

[riacte]

update on hermitgals precure au: i’ve decided to make the mascot kingdom the hermit kingdom and they protect the genesis block (?) which is the macguffin that facilitates communal creation and sharing of art and inspiring each other with their own creations in their peaceful hermit kingdom, which then ripples out to the human world.

the evil corporation (yes it’s a corporation) wants to steal the genesis block so they can control all the art output and mash it together like a soulless meat grinder for capitalist profit. pearl is a particularly creative person, the evil corporation viewed her as a big threat to their evil monopoly, so they straight up brainwashed her from birth. she still broke free because her adventurous and free spirit cannot be contained!

i’ve decided to make ren have a human form because the logistics nightmare of making the cures carry the mascots to safety every time they fight is… not good lmao. anyways he can be a human because he’s the king and the tiny crown of the dog gives him extra powers. he easily transforms back though. his main job is to run to safety with iskall and protect the genesis block. (eventually he lends the crown to cleo in a cleo-related arc and they’re both 🥺)

towards the boss fight, the corporation captures four cures and drains their vitality from them and keeps them captured/ otherwise frozen, and gem is the one who has to save them all and she laments about being so powerful that she’s the one who’s left behind 🥺 (but there is at least one mascot with her for moral support)

i want to make stress turn evil temporarily so everyone’s gonna be disheartened that their cheerful pink cure has succumbed to despair but they save her with the power of love and hugs.

the cures throw ren around like a stuffed doll and hold him up by the scruff of his neck. he’s just a guy. false keeps on forgetting she can’t punch ren in human form because he’ll transform back if he’s weakened.

[zabo-writes]

Mumbo is a God (He thinks everyone else is also a god, but that they’ve just been really good at pretending to be human)

Mumbo was beginning to suspect he was on the receiving end of a remarkably complex prank.

This put him in a predicament. Should he go along with it? He knew it was more fun if he did. If Mumbo Jumbo knew one thing, it was how to commit to a joke.

However, this had been going on for years now. Mumbo was starting to get one of those feelings in his gut that was the kind of gut feeling people describe when they say they have a “gut feeling” about something.

And being that Mumbo did not have a gut, or any human body parts for that matter, one could see why this was distressing to him.

Mumbo Jumbo was a god. Specifically, the god of redstone. All of the other hermits were gods as well. The crux of the issue here was that all of the other hermits had been pretending to be humans for about 10 years now. And by pretending, Mumbo meant seriously, seriously roleplaying. He’d tested it! There’d been multiple instances where he had tried to convince another hermit to break character and do something godly. And they never cracked!

Truly, Mumbo was impressed. He himself was not quite as unshakeable. There’d been a few moments where his facade had cracked: the time he accidentally made a perfectly circular pumpkin (big problem in a world made of squares), the time where he put too power into the redstone AI for grumbot and gave it an existential crisis, the incident where he may have slightly consumed Grian’s soul…

All that was to say, Mumbo wasn’t the best at pretending to be a human, but he was giving it his best effort. And it seemed like the other hermits, in some sort of years-long prank, were keeping up the joke until Mumbo got it right.

Well if that was the case, he’d finally caught on! Haha! Take that, other hermits! Mumbo finally figured out the prank where everyone else pretended for a very long time that they weren’t actually—

Gods.

Wait.

They were gods, right?

Scar with his magnificent terraining skills, Cleo with her armor stands…

And surely Grian was some sort of trickster god. Right?

All of his friends were so talented, he had simply assumed it was related to some sort of godly domain.

Come to think of it, did he have any confirmation that they ever were gods in the first place?

No, no, no… surely…

Mumbo paused his task of mindlessly mining out a very large area under his base. He blinked. The netherite pickaxe clattered as it hit the floor.

Oh, he was an absolute spoon.

———

Grian grumbled as he shuffled through every chest and shulker he owned for what felt like the billionth time. He could’ve sworn he left the materials to make a beacon somewhere around here. Did it “lag” into someone’s inventory again? He pulled out his communicator to put a message in the chat.

“Grian! Incoming!”

Grian looked up just in time to see Mumbo collide with his face, sending them both sprawling across the floor.

“Ah! Hello Mumbo, fancy seeing you here! Do you happen to know where my beacon is?” Grian laughed as he dusted himself off.

“This is not the time! Grian! Grian I’m having a crisis.” Mumbo lamented,

“Yes, so am I! My beacon is gone!”

Mumbo continued, undeterred, “Grian, I have a very important question for you, and I need you to be completely honest with me.”

“Okay?”

“What does your true form look like?”

“My what?”

“Alright, alright. So you know how I’m a god?”

Grian stated incredulously at the mustachioed man before him. “WHAT?”

Mumbo groaned and put his head in his hands. “No, I really need you to be honest. I’m a god, you’re a god, bdubs is a god… we all are, right?”

Grian was not sure how to respond to this. He was, to his knowledge, as human as they come. “I think this is a sitting down conversation.”

After a long, long chat inside of Grian’s bedroom, Grian felt he was finally understanding the situation. He was taking it pretty well! As well as one can take your best friend explaining to you in the same breath that he is a deity, and oh— by the way, he thought this whole time that you were as well.

“Okay, okay. Let me get this straight. You’ve been pretending to be human this whole time because you thought you had to?”

“I thought it was a game!” Mumbo exclaimed, burying his face in the pillows on Grian’s bed. “I thought it was a game, like an ‘I’m not going to kill anything for a season’ type of game!”

“Right, but in this case the game was ‘pretending to be human for multiple years without mentioning the fact that you’re a god’?”

“…. Yes.”

Grian cackled “Well, Mumbo, I can assure you, if that ever was a game, you’ve certainly won! I would never have suspected you.”

Mumbo nodded sagely. “Yes, it’s the mustache. A classic human disguise.”

“You don’t really have a mustache?!”

Mumbo cocked his head. “Grian, you’ve seen my real form! Or, a depiction of it, I suppose. The redstone god? From the buildswap we did?”

“That was ages ago! And wait, did you just make a self portrait for that prompt, then?!”

“Yes! That’s why I thought you knew!”

“Somehow that feels like cheating. I should go get Pearl and have her re-evaluate the results of that build swap with this new information”

A look of concern crossed Mumbo’s face. “Oh, I didn’t even think that. I’m going to have to explain this to everyone, aren’t I?”

Grian shrugged, “I’m sure it’s fine. Say, could I see your ‘god’ form, O great and powerful Mumbo Jumbo? Now you have me curious.”

“Well I could, but I might destroy your ceiling.” Mumbo looked up at the rafters sheepishly.

“Back outside we go then”

Safely on the grass behind Grian’s base, Mumbo transformed into his full form for the first time in what felt like ages.

The form was that of a large humanoid figure, as tall as Grian’s house, made of red terracotta and loose redstone dust that fell and scattered like sand with every movement Mumbo made. His eyes were two glowing redstone lamps that flickered with emotion, reminiscent of a certain robot they had built before.

It occurred to Mumbo at that moment that if his friends were truly human, this form might be quite scary to them. He knelt down to look at Grian, bracing himself to handle whatever fear was in his friend's eyes.

Instead, Grian was grinning like a madman.

“Oh, we are SO pranking Scar with this.”

[definitelynotshouting]

Grian’s permit office is so funny to me in the context of LITD. Because this of course would be a hypothetical future in which things have been mostly resolved and this is part of the consensual torment agreement they would come up with so he can have his snackies between large events. Like I imagine a hermit (likely Scar or Joel) lamenting about their experience at the permit office to some rando at MCC or whatever and that rando being like “wow that guy sounds like he really sucks, I wouldn’t want someone like that on my server :///” and the hermit being like. What the fuck why would you even say that. We like him like this. God forbid a guy have a little enrichment in his enclosure.

QKSBQJSBQKDNWKNDOQNSKWJSKWJSJIWSJSJWJSJ S10 IS DOING COCOMELON SHIT TO MY HEAD IN THE CONTEXT OF HUNGER AU IM NGL

LIKE HE REALLY IS JUST SNACKING ON MISERY HERE IN CANON HUH.. BROTHERS IN MY FUCKING WALLS

[beevean]

The Devil Forgemasters in Netflixvania: why you shouldn't fix what is broken

I have a lot to say about how the show completely ruined Hector and Isaac, as characters and thematically. Adding more and more to the original post about how the changes made to Dracula and the Belmonts ruin the story would derail it more than I'd like to, so take this as some sort of lateral continuation.

Devil Forging is not tied to Dracula.

This is, admittedly, an obscure detail that not even many game fans know, but it's a good starting point.

Devil Forging (Japanese: 悪魔精錬術, Art of Devil Refining) is described to be a blasphemous branch of alchemy that creates life out of a wisp of conjuring matter. While it's ambiguous whether Hector and Isaac are the only Devil Forgemasters in the world or simply the most talented ones, it has been confirmed that they were infused with Dracula's own power to become Forgemasters.

Igarashi said it in a pre-release interview of the game...

"Innocent Devils are created out of strong magical essence. Previously when Hector was part of Dracula's army, Dracula himself provided that magical essence, so it was easy to create Innocent Devils..."

It was shown in a page of Prelude to Revenge...

And Death's entire plan in Curse of Darkness hinges on both Hector and Isaac being "suffused" with his master's power, making them the perfect vessels for his resurrection.

In the show, Devil Forging (or just Forging) is nothing of the sort. Forgemasters create Night Creatures by putting souls from Hell into recently dead, intact corpses. Hector in particular knew how to resurrect creatures in a zombie state since he was a child. Neither him nor Isaac, who studied by himself, needed Dracula to become Forgemasters: he met them when they were already adults and well-versed in dark arts.

This, on its own, doesn't ruin the story much: it's not a big deal if Devil Forging is changed from alchemy to necromancy, especially since this Dracula didn't use to be the alchemist Mathias Cronqvist. I also don't mind in a vacuum that the art has more limitations, like needing fresh corpses or tools. But, much like removing any hint that Lament of Innocence happened, it spirals into worse and worse consequences.

There is, however, something that can be mentioned here. The show makes a frequent point, through Carmilla, Lenore and the Captain, that Dracula might have planned to kill Hector and Isaac together with all the humans: Isaac accepted this fate and for this reason refused to befriend Hector, Hector could be manipulated at the other vampires' leisure. This conflict wouldn't have existed if Isaac and Hector trusted Dracula with their lives, as in, if he was the one who "made" them as they were: in fact, a big deal is made out of the Devil Forgemasters' humanity. I will elaborate more on the details next.

Dracula hired Hector and Isaac shortly after Lisa was killed.

In the prequels, Hector and Isaac went to knock to Dracula's door out of desperation (in one version when they were young boys), because there was no other place in the world for them. Dracula welcomed them and taught them the dark arts, on the condition that they would serve him, which they did out of gratitude for being allowed to live. Their talent was enough to earn them the titles of Devil Forgemasters and Generals. Their loyalty was then put to the test after Lisa's death, when Dracula used their powers to make an army to crush humanity with: Isaac was perfectly fine with it, Hector had reservations.

The wording implies that Hector was shocked by Dracula's descent into madness. One can even read his "indiscriminately" as a hint that at first Hector was also alright with punishing the guilty, but then had second thoughts the moment he realized Dracula's slaughter was beyond reason.

Only bits and pieces of all of this was kept in the show. As I mentioned, Dracula met the two when they were already adults and hermits, one in Rhodes and the other in the Sahara, and the two were impressed by how Dracula was the first one who treated them with kindness. Then he returned to them after Lisa's death, more or less telling both of them "I need you to exterminate the human race". Isaac was, again, up to it, while Hector had to be convinced with a lie: Dracula promised to him a compromise, that of culling the human race and using it as livestock. Then, he took them to his castle and immediately promoted them to Generals, because he trusted them as humans against humanity.

Why does it matter? Hector started off with all the building blocks to go through a similar character arc he goes through in the CoD prequels, but he's turned into a less sympathetic character, as he was on board with turning humans into cattle from the get go. An anti-villain who'd enslave his own kind out of a misguided sense of mercy needs a carefully woven narrative to justify, and possibly redeem. We all know what happened to him.

To be fair, the story wasting Hector is not the fault of the lore changes, so there's no point in elaborating here. I will mention, however, that some fans genuinely believe Hector deserved to be enslaved and raped precisely because of his original plan, which makes the narrative even grosser.

Why does it matter? 2: Hector not feeling grateful for Dracula giving him a home, because their relationship is now more shallow and cheaper, makes him weaker to Carmilla's and Lenore's manipulations: game Hector, pre-character development, would have had the right counterarguments against them, and he would have come off as less passive.

Why does it matter? 3: Hector and Isaac only worked under Dracula for a year, and they're already called Generals. In the prequels, it's implied they spent years studying under him and gaining experience, both in the alchemy lab and in the battlefield, which is why they're called Generals in the first place (unlike the show version, who allegedly aren't even physical fighters). While Dracula explains that he trusts them due to being humans willing to exterminate other humans, it's questionable that Dracula would trust their qualifications so much; this is made even worse by the fact that Hector was "hired" thanks to a lie. Their importance and talent are diminished, and Dracula comes off as more impulsive and less caring of those he trusts.

(and while this is more minor, Dracula, who in this version is meant to be more sympathetic, looks like more of a bastard for leaving Hector and Isaac in their isolated homes until he had a need for them. The story could have put Isaac through a character arc where he realized that his "friend" only saw him as a tool and discarded him as such, but nothing comes from it.)

Neither Dracula nor Isaac respect Hector.

In the games, Dracula respected both Hector and Isaac as his trusted Generals, but he favored Hector, which caused Isaac not a small amount of grief. Isaac himself was torn between respecting Hector as a friend and comrade and resenting him for "getting closer to Lord Dracula". In any case, it's obvious that both of them had a role in Dracula's court, it just happened that Hector was more talented than Isaac.

Before talking about the show, it's necessary to talk about the stats sheets that came out with Season 2, that implied that Hector and Isaac were meant to be both physically weak, with the former slightly stronger and more powerful in "necromancing" than the latter. This implies that the original idea was more in line with the games, with Hector being more talented than Isaac: this would have explained why Dracula resorted to lie to him to hire him.

But this, for whatever reason, was not kept at all. Not only the two are roughly on the same level of raw power; not only Isaac eventually is shown to be a menace in battle; but Dracula and Isaac have nothing but contempt for Hector as a person. They insult him gratuituously, calling him "a child in a man's body", "just a little boy", "a creature too simple for betrayal", "easy to lie to", and making fun of his love for animals. Furthermore, Isaac in particular says that he never cared to befriend Hector because he assumed, and accepted, that both of them will eventually die at Dracula's hands, so there was no point in forming a connection - but it could have been just an excuse because it's clear that he simply cannot stand him.

This is not just petty bullying, it's baffling writing.

Why does it matter?: this Hector should not even be in the castle, let alone with an important role like a General of Dracula's army. If Forging is a branch of magic well known in certain circles, unrelated to Dracula, why couldn't he attempt to find another one that would be on board with his plan? Especially since it seems to be common to shun them for their blasphemous powers, so there has to be another Forgemaster with a chip on their shoulder that wouldn't need to be manipulated.

Hector is kept in the dark about Dracula's real plan. He is considered so stupid that anyone could sway him. He yells in the middle of the war room that he doesn't enjoy paddling in the blood of children, confirming that he doesn't want to target innocents. He is also not special compared to Isaac, who is also shown to be quicker in Forging and capable in fighting. Hector is nothing short of a liability for Dracula, and it's all his fault for not realizing how much of a detriment hiring a naive "manchild" for a plan that goes against his very morals would eventually become.

But then again, Dracula in the show seems to like having liabilities in his castle.

Hector did not challenge Dracula of his own volition.

While the details are unclear and can only be inferred, it is pivotal that, at some point, Hector decided that he couldn't be an instrument of slaughter. He may have come to this conclusion out of principles (PtR) or out of pride for his own humanity (MF manga), but what matters is that he decided that he would rather flee to live in the human world that rejected him than to keep living in Dracula's castle where he was respected as a Devil Forgemaster but not as a person.

Hector's choice to run away in search of freedom, while understandable and admirable, has terrible consequences on Isaac, his foil and rival. He had to leave the castle to pursue the traitor: the two fought, and Isaac lost. Not only Hector left him alive instead of mercy killing him, letting the failure soak in, but thanks to their absence from the castle, Trevor and his companions had less obstacles to overcome, so they managed to reach Dracula and kill him. Isaac was beyond furious at Hector's betrayal: not only the rival he respected turned his back on both him and their Lord, but with one act, he stripped Isaac of everything he held dear in his life, from his position to the Lord who accepted him to his very home. Thus, the tragic cycle of revenge the two get stuck in during the game.

In the show, the real agent of S2 is Carmilla. She is the one who has decided that Dracula is an insane old man and she has to stop his insane plan (because it would harm vampires in the long run, of course). Her plan is to manipulate Hector into convincing him to convince Dracula to move the castle at Braila, all while praising his skills and reassuring she only wants to save his life from Dracula's insanity. Hector, who already had doubts, easily goes along with Carmilla's will, and by the time she reveals she disdains him as well, he doesn't have the strength to rebel, which leads to his beating and imprisonment in S3.

Why does it matter?: the most important theme of Hector's character is him gaining agency and choosing to amend his mistakes by being a better person than those around him. He is meant to be a parallel to Isaac (who close loyalty over freedom and couldn't rise above his bitterness and anger), Alucard (who is burdened by his family, not his wrong choices) and Dracula himself (who lost his heart out of grief and, like Isaac, kept spiraling downwards). Stripping him of his thematic relevance leaves Hector with nothing to his name: while Hector is canonically someone who clings in search of affection, the show takes this trait to absurd and frankly humiliating degrees.

Contrast the climax of game Hector's character arc of facing his former benefactor, telling him he has no right to judge mankind, and swearing that this time he will fight him face to face instead of running away:

with the climax of show Hector's character arc of protecting the woman who abused him, gaslighted him, raped him through deception, imprisoned him, never once respected him as a person and put a cursed ring on him that forced him to mutilate his own hand to break free, and then allowing her to die on her own terms so that she won't have to face the consequences of her actions, crawling back to her (and Dracula! He wanted Dracula back after everything he had done!) because up until the end, he never acknowledged the fatal flaw of weakmindness and insecurity that led him to being tortured in all sorts of ways.

(Isaac telling us that "he changed" is the biggest lie of the show. "He never had agency", he also says, and not only that is true, it keeps being true until the end of the show, in the face of any character development.)

Hector's character is much more than being a generic badass: he is meant to be an inspiration to not falter and succumb to your weaknesses because you are valuable as a person and human, regardless of how others see you. Even if you make mistakes, you can choose to become a better person, and you can find people who love you for who you are. It is incomprehensible how much his show's counterpart ends up promoting the complete opposite message.

Why does it matter? 2: while the story beats the viewer over the head that Hector is a simpleminded manchild, Dracula and Isaac actually look like the biggest idiots in the castle. Carmilla makes clear from her entrance that she has no respect for Dracula and would rather do as she pleases, yet Dracula keeps her alive, allowing her to talk with the "manchild easy to lie to", and Isaac flippantly agrees to her plan to "stop her from causing mischief". Hector gets all the blame for his naiveté and is punished beyond measure, while the other two gets off scot free from their plot-mandated stupidity. It's one thing when in the mangas Dracula and Isaac trusted Hector and thus were left blindsided by his betrayal: they have absolutely zero reason to leave Carmilla alive, let alone trust her.

Why does it matter? 3: Isaac has no solid reason to resent Hector. The two have no connection whatsoever, Carmilla is clearly the one in charge, Isaac sees Trevor, Sypha and Alucard storming the castle with his own eyes, and he was also partially responsible for Carmilla betraying Dracula. He never feels guilty for his negligence in recognizing her as a threat or Hector as someone capable of betrayal. His glee at seeing Hector suffering and his desire to kill him are far less motivated, impactful and tragic. It also comes as a slap in the face that in S4 he "forgives" Hector for lacking agency, without a word about his blind loyalty and stubbornness that nothing could harm his Lord.

Addendum: this is a smaller point related to the previous one, but I feel the need to mention it: there is a very big difference between an insane, ruined Isaac spying on a happy Hector from the shadows, plotting his downfall, and a gleeful Isaac spying on a tortured Hector and rejoicing in his suffering. The former creates palpable tension, because we are rooting for Hector's new happy life, and Isaac ruining it cements him as a despicable and threatening villain; when Isaac in the show is glad to see Hector in pain but still wants to kill him, it has no impact because everyone wants to see Hector suffer, and by that point, killing him would have been a mercy. Once again, it only feels spiteful and kicking someone when he's down.

Isaac and Hector swapped places without reason.

This is by far the most unpopular opinion and perhaps the most biased, but it has to be included.

Isaac in the games had a very specific role of being Hector's foil. He was the loyalty to Hector's pride, he saw himself as a tool while Hector recognized his own humanity, he succumbed to his own hatred while Hector eventually rose above it. He has a negative character arc, becoming more and more obsessed, unhinged and destructive from the prequels until the end of the game where he meets his tragic end, both puppeteer and puppet - his sister Julia is proof that he too had people who cared about him and he cared about, but it was not enough against Dracula's influence. Even his design tells us a lot about him: not only he let his uniform rot off his body in his insanity, but the intricate tattoos on his body can be seen as proof of how far he'd twist himself to show loyalty to his Lord.

While it's not necessary to recreate 1:1 his story in the show, it is immensely frustrating that show Isaac pretty much stole what should have been Hector's arc, leaving him with a flat arc that can be vaguely read as "forgive your abusers if they're sad enough".

It's not just about Hector, though. Show Isaac comes off as a worse version of both characters. I have already explained how in S2 he comes off as more negligent and thus less sympathetic than game Isaac in similar circumstances. S3 and 4, combined, should be about him travelling around, meeting new people and slowly realizing that he can be more than Dracula's right hand because not all humans are rotten to the core. In practice, show Isaac spends the majority of S3 causing much more reckless havoc than game Isaac, targeting people who merely dared to stop a dark wizard from invading their towns, flip-flopping between "maybe humans can be good" to "nevermind you are all rude and deserve to be used by me as demons", until in S4 he suddenly has the realization that he enjoys having agency and would rather build a better world (which includes killing people for "just" reasons); it's almost like the arc game Hector went through in the manga, except we actually see him trying to atone for his past sins, acknowledging that his dark past makes him hateable, and genuinely reforming thanks to Rosaly's influence.

Why does it matter?: Isaac is nowhere near as sympathetic as the show wants him to be, and his arc is shallow, rushed and generic. This is because he switches between two different characters with little buildup.

Why does it matter? 2: Hector and Isaac were meant to be foils in everything, from designs to personalities to arcs. They make each other stronger as characters. In the show, they have no thematic relevance, and the only contrast is that Isaac keeps getting what he wants while Hector keeps getting tormented and humiliated, not for a good narrative reason but out of petty favoritism and spite respectively. It makes their reunion in S4 ring hollow, because, much like the three protagonists, the two didn't have a relationship in the first place to make their mutual forgiveness poignant.

Bonus: the uniforms.

This is the hill I will die on: Hector and Isaac's designs in the games are crucial to the understanding of the characters, and the way the characters were redesigned in the show makes no sense.

In Prelude to Revenge, we see the Devil Forgemasters' full uniforms:

They wear a big, dark cassock with a sash, that makes the both of them look like priests, and bat-shaped chest armor bearing the crest of their position. As we know, Isaac also went so far as embedding that crest on his back, signifying how devoted he is.

After the events of the prequel and during the game proper, their outfit changes. Hector wears what we can assume are the clothes underneath the cassock, haphazardly stitched back together, but keeping the sash (now with Rosaly's ribbon tied around it) and the chest armor, symbolizing how he's forced to face his past again to avenge his wife. This outfit is also designed for running and combat, as shown by the one glove and the arm guard.

Isaac, on the other hand, is unrecognizeable. After three years of rotting in the ruins of the castle, the uniform fell off his body, and he did not bother to fix it. He only modified the chest armor, making it smaller and creating chains, shoulder pauldrons and a collar to keep it on his body. It is meant to contrast his previously put-together design, and convey that Isaac's sanity is as gone as his clothes. Furthermore, he is flaunting the tattoos that symbolize his utter devotion and belonging to Dracula.

In short, Hector and Isaac started from a similar place, but they diverged to very different paths.

This, on the other hand, is nothing short of lazy.

There is no explanation as to why they wear different uniforms. There is no color coordination, no red/blue motif in their clothes. There is no reason Isaac wears a dark priestly uniform while Hector still looks combat ready when he's only a smith (wouldn't the arm guard get in the way?). Hector is shown wearing a red sash ever since he was a child, which doesn't explain why it's included in Isaac's uniform as well. Even the crest on the armor looks different:

There was no thought put in any of this, it was all sloppily stolen from the fandom wiki, and once again, it ruins the carefully woven connection between the two characters.

Hector and Isaac's story was airtight, with just enough room for speculation but enough material to get invested in, emotional, a great example of tragedy, and every choice was made for a reason. It was a story of revenge on the surface, but it also tackled quite well, despite its limitations, themes of humanity and agency and freedom. The writing in the show is not only sloppy and more shallow, but it accidentally promotes terrible themes in its misanthropy, cruelty, and lack of care regarding abuse and trauma.

[teddybearsandspaceships]

Notes for the Scar stream from 9.9.2024 that I forgot to post. I highly recommend this one, it was a ton of fun. Featuring Banana!Scar, Bdubs´ and Keralis´ baby, Hermit tours, Etho discovering Gem´s secret basement, and many other fun things.

Scar doing Bob Ross voice xD

Cleo logs on! \o/ Scar goes to her immediately to show off his armor stand work. Cleo is impressed.

Scar sells Cleo a boat of parrots and puts his tactical khakis back on. Cleo insists they are short shorts. Cleo is thinking about putting Thorns on their armor because Gem punches them so often.

Cleo doesn´t want to tell Poe Poe Scar about their shopping district plans so Scar puts on his banana skin xD

Cleo tells Banana Scar about their secret tunnel plans. Banana Scar promises not to spill any secrets he hears while he is Banana Scar.

Scar doesn´t want to disrupt Mumbo´s rebirth. “I´m not saying old Mumbo was bad but I love new Mumbo best.” New Mumbo builds, and he´s proud of himself, and he uses armor stands.

They go see Mumbo´s toxis waterspill and admire his armor stands, including the people in hazmat suits. Scar asks and Cleo confirms that they´re basically HEP.

Scar shows Cleo his “Etho in a box,” you have to re-assemble him yourself. It unfortunately involves showing chat his shulker monster.

He also shows Cleo his chests filled with the remains of the mountain he removed. Cleo says he didn´t have to remove the mountain. Scar says he likes to make things as difficult as possible for himself and put himself through pain and misery. Cleo agrees, also says that in previous seasons he could have asked her and Joe to do it but she´s decided she´s done digging for people.

Cleo is wondering how much it would cost to get Scar to wear a banana suit to a doctor as a dare. Scar counter-offers Twitchcon. “Be the banana.”

Scar is very stressed about how much he has to do before Twitchcon. Cleo: “counterpoint:  not doing it.” Unfortunately that would make his sponsor mad.

Scar laments he always has his foot in his mouth. That reminds him, he has to get his toenails cut before Twitchcon. Cleo: “well, if they´re in their mouth already…” and then says he could make money off those foot pics. Scar: “I do want a new house, but not that much.”

Mr Finnegan! He looks so grumpy, aww. And Katy Bee! She looks a bit more “head empty” ^^ (Oh noes, did Finney, actually damage the mike?) Scar using a lint roller on himself to get rid of the cat hair ^^

Cat talk. Scar complains Grian doesn’t post enough pictures of his cats.

Cleo is having trouble doing stuff at the moment. [I relate.]

Cleo is not friends with people who use AI images. If an AI did the Hermitcraft meeting minutes, it would include all the inappropriate jokes. Cleo clarifies that they don´t mean slurs, they mean dirty jokes. People who share AI images are weird.

The stock market is just gambling that reflects how happy rich people are.

After some more talking on top of Scar´s massive floating chest pile Cleo suggests they should go bother someone else. Scar immediately picks Etho.

They meet Etho at Frogger and he explains the game to Cleo. They show them the trophy. Cleo says “it looks like Bdubs and Keralis had a baby.” Etho can see it: it was during Bdubs´ mossy period. He misses mossy Bdubs. Scar mentions glowstone Bdubs, but neither Cleo or Etho remember that.

Cleo and Scar tell Etho he can confess secrets to Banana Scar. Etho confesses he´s a little worried about the upcoming mace race against Ren. Etho doesn´t even have a mace to practice with.

Etho and Cleo need to figure out a time for Cleo to teach him about armorstands. Etho and Scar practice the mace race course.

Cub shows up and tries to smash Banana Scar but fails.

Off to play Frogger! Both Cleo and Etho try to steal Cub´s wallet because the shulker box is more than half full with stacks of diamond blocks. Scar is astonished Cub doesn´t have a vault yet. If Cub doesn´t build one, Scar might have to do it for him.

Scar and Cub do some runs. “Careful, there´s a banana on the street!”

The game also doubles as an incidental head farm, and Etho tells Cleo they can have them.

Some Minecraft updates update discussion. Cleo wants a meat block. Etho points out it´s a kid´s game – laughter- Cub saying he´s on his own – Etho says it´d make the game more gory – Scar: nice save. Cleo also wants meat stairs, slabs… it should give you regen… Etho: “and you should hear the screams of your fallen foes as you eat their flesh.” Cleo could be behind people meat.

Kitchen update would be cool. Etho thinks it would be so cool if eating a glowberry made you glow. Cub says they denied that idea to his face. Apparently the reason is because Bedrock doesn´t have the glowing effect.

Update wishes: Cleo wants a meat block, Scar wants colored lights, Cub wants fletching table functionality, Etho wants programmable NPCs

Mojang should just hire Tango. Some more talk about the Minecraft movie trailer, etc. etc. Weird that they´re already so many months into the season, and Etho still doesn´t have a roof… Cub said Etho was inspired by the Barbie movie.

Scar claims he´s a rule follower. Mhm.

Cleo doesn´t want to build dog houses for Cub, Scar complains they´re all bad at business. Cleo says they want to do less armor stand work. Etho says he´ll have to get them frustrated so they´ll teach him, Cleo says that´s not necessary.

Tour of Cleo´s base! Cleo combined Skyrim and Fallout.

Cleo: “What are you thinking about, Etho?” “It´s complex.” “I´m a complex person, I´ll understand.”

Scar learning about Cleo´s monster: “Can we sic the monster on people?” “Who are you siccing the monster on Scar.” “Secret.”

Next stop: Etho´s base. Scar says with the purple on the roof it looks like an inflatable bouncy castle.

Scar is adorably excited about touring the bases. Next stop: Cub.

Nothing wrong with being a forehead guy.

Cleo asks Cub for silverfish heads to scare Joe with.

Etho is nitpicky about saying something works perfectly. Cleo: “Etho knows all about being perfect.” Etho: “When your mom tells you you´re perfect, Scar, she doesn´t really mean perfect.” “Oh my god, I´m a perfect angel.”

Gem joins Hermit tours!

Etho: I still need to murder you today. Gem: what? Cleo: In-game! Definitely what he meant.

Scar tours! Scar shows them natural arch bridge, Gem says it´s not very accessible. Scar: god I hate disabled people, stupid wheelchairs, always needing ramps and accommodation, jeez…

Scar tries to sell Gem a boat of parrots. Gem asks what he needs diamonds for, Scar, hesitant: “Etho´s… game?”

Scar then tries to sell Etho a boat. Etho says he can just make his own boat. Cleo reminds him he forgot to offer the parrots.

Scar might have been stealing an allay from Gem and Grian´s squid farm, according to pirate rules. Gem says she and Grian own all the salt water and False owns the fresh water. It´s all cursed anyway.

Scar agrees to give the parrots to Gem for free. Cleo: I understand, you love Gem more than me, it´s fine. Gem: I´m just scarier than you Cleo.

Etho is not impressed by the ravager riders Scar captured. “Meh.” He wants Scar to get a wither skeleton on a horse. After they leave he does tell Scar that his base is looking great, even though he likes to give him a hard time.

Gem saying he focused on one of the fears when building her kraken. Etho: “Bad hair day.”

Gem showing off her new interior. Scar: “Guys, there´s the cake, it wasn´t a lie.”

Etho is a critique-er of labs. He´s the Ethos-lab, after all.

Gem shows them her anthropologist´s lab, and they find Etho in the basement. Etho, shocked: “What? What are you doing to me? I look alive!” Wonders if Gem is trying to turn him into a monster. Then: “It´s fine, it´s a clone of me anyway, you can do whatever you want with him. Don´t keep him up too late though, ´cause then he gets grumpy.”

Scar shows them Bdubs´ new build in the city and gushes about the lighting. Then they go admire Joel´s city.

Etho´s been in a sandwich tragedy because they stopped selling Hungarian salami. He´s doing a lot of bacon instead recently.

Cub is disappointed that Joel waxed the back and front of all his signs, he wanted to mess with them.

Scar: “Alright, sweet angels.” He´s been streaming for four hours and feels like he´s losing his mind. Etho fading out, remarks on that´s something he has…

[leopardmask-ao3]

Day 19 - Alt Hermits

Drabble for @hermitadaymay!

“I can't do it, Worm Man. I just can't.”

“Let me see.” Worm Man looked over to where Evil X was holding a snarl of yarn looped over two knitting needles, which he looked like he was about to break. “Ah, still having trouble casting on, then? Here.” Worm Man put down his own knitting and moved closer.

“It's no use,” Evil X lamented. “This was a stupid idea you had.”

“Nonsense, you'll get there.” Worm Man’s hands hovered over Ex’s. “May I touch you?”

“.........Yeah.”

Worm Man guided Ex’s hands through the motions. “Loop it here, see, and then...”

[liminalpsych]

Queer reading of Vulgate pt 3, intro pt 2

preface | intro pt 1 | intro pt 2

Still on E. Jane Burns' Introduction to the Vulgate Cycle. It continues exploring the same basic thesis: the indefinable nature of the Vulgate, and the author(s) of and influences on the text.

"If the Vulgate’s textual genealogies demonstrate an obsession with origins that parallels that shared by Chapelain and Lot, they reveal simultaneously how, in the case of these narratives, the preoccupation with origins leads consistently to no verifiable authorial source. We are left rather with a plurality of authorial voices and competing subtexts that cannot be aligned in logical sequence. Credit for narrative invention falls on a cohort of fictive authors that range from the chivalric heroes who speak their adventures at King Arthur’s court to the Active dictator Merlin and his vernacular scriptor Blaise, to the bogus author/translator Walter Map, the storyteller Robert de Boron, and the oracular voice of Christ. Amid all these references to creators and their sources, both written and oral, no mention is made, curiously, of the actual textual antecedents for the Vulgate Cycle. Yet there are many."

Burns goes in depth on the textual antecedents, but it doesn't provide anything new to talk about for the purposes of these reading reaction posts, so I'll gloss over those.

"The truth told here is obviously of a different sort. It is a truth not of events or revelations, but a truth anchored solidly in the pleasurable, rhetorical use of words. Herein lies the answer to critical objections raised by Chapelain and Lot. For the insistent repetition of too many words that put Chapelain to sleep and offended the aesthetic sensibilities of Ferdinand Lot lies at the very heart of the Vulgate’s project to validate the literary text over and above its more erudite predecessors. Repetition serves in many ways as the hallmark of the Vulgate romances: repetition of authorial voices, of stock motifs and thematic material, or of whole segments of narrative lifted from the Queste and relocated in the Estoire. And that repetition draws attention to the specifically literary character of the Vulgate romances, undermining their professed pretentions to more lofty theological or historical expression."

Apparently, repetition of this variety was a liturgical device, theological. So the Vulgate's use of repetition becomes a kind of "textual idolatry" (as far as St. Augustine would see it).

"Thirteenth-century clerical pronouncements deplore the falsehoods and lies written about Perceval and the Holy Grail, lamenting those who have abandoned religious truth in preference for stories about Lancelot and the secularized holy relic. If the Grail material is the most religious component of the Vulgate corpus, it appeared as most irreligious to medieval Church authorities."

So even the religious elements of the Vulgate Cycle were seen as distractions from true spiritual pursuits by the religious authorities of the times. Sacrilegious, even.

(In other words, don't confuse all the Christian symbolism for religiosity. That was just the symbolism of the era. Writers worked with what they had available to them.)

The Quest for the Holy Grail, of course, is the most religious. Some think it might have been written by Cistercians; others think it was by laypersons trying to make it palatable or acceptable to the Cistercian order. Burns argues that "Meaning in the Queste is not first hidden and then revealed, but rather it is systematically displaced from one textual segment to the next." Adventure stories are interspersed by a hermit telling a parallel Biblical tale that doesn't actually have a lot to do with the event they're supposedly interpreting. (This … makes the Quest make a lot more sense to me, actually. The parables always felt shoehorned in and interruptive rather than actually relevant.)

"In their narrative wandering, the thirteenth-century prose tales of love and adventure remind us that when analyzing them we need not look for a reassuring map to guide our literary voyage. And that in taking this trip we need not choose necessarily between unity and disunity, coherence and incoherence, between the ingenious author’s masterpiece and the barbarian’s literary dungheap. These excessively polarized options are perforce limiting and exclusionary in their own way."

Is Burns arguing that we should read the Vulgate in a nonbinary way? Delightful. :D

"…that very distortion can lead us to ask more productive questions, in particular questions about those sectors of the literary terrain that the quest for authority and textual unity has so often marginalized or effaced."

Oh, don't worry, Burns, I have years of practice deciphering queercoding in media. I'm all about looking for the "marginalized sectors of the literary terrain".

And that's the introduction! Whew. Finally. Now to actually reading the Vulgate Cycle. Starting with my least favorite: The History of the Holy Grail.

[gaybananabread]

Can I buyyyyyyy some cherries and bananas for Lee!satan and Ler!lucifer

Fruit(s): Cherries, Bananas

WHOOOOOO DAMN I haven’t played this in two years @~@. I tried my best to keep these boys in character and flesh the idea out. Hopefully this doesn’t suck(/hj). May or may not have restarted my interest in this fandom… As always, thank you for requesting, and I hope you Enjoy!

Lee: Satan

Ler: Lucifer

Summary: Satan becomes engrossed in a new novel, locking himself in his room all day. He forgets about everything else as time flies, accidentally ignoring his duties and MC. Lucifer gives him a reminder he won’t soon forget.

Warnings: none! This is a tickle fic, so if you don’t like that, scroll away!!

Satan curled up on his bed, the soft pattering of rain on his bay window making the perfect white noise. He had been gifted a new mystery/drama novel by his favorite human and was intent on binge-reading it to the end. Abandoning his worries and silencing his D.D.D., the avatar of Wrath cracked the spine and began to read his new novel.

-

Lucifer stormed through the halls of the House of Lamentation, heading for the fourth oldest brother’s room. The knowledge-obsessed recluse hadn’t shown his face in over 24 hours. MC was worried, and the blonde demon’s list of assignments was left untouched. 

As the oldest, he took it upon himself to punish his brothers for their various misdeeds. Despite this, he had a soft spot for every one of them in his heart, no matter how small. Mammon was a cheeky, greedy little shit most of the time, but he still loved him as his brother. Nevertheless, Satan’s hermiting couldn’t be left unchecked.

Reaching the sturdy oak barrier, Lucifer knocked rather politely. He was too civilized to bang right away, though he definitely felt like it. “Satan! Open this door, now!” He could still yell, though.

The bibliophile jolted, almost dropping his beloved book as the yell shook him. He scoffed, bookmarked his page and moved to open the door. “What is it, Lucifer? I’m doing something.”

That got a huff out of the prideful demon, his eye twitching. “It’s not your list of tasks for today, is it? Or perhaps spending time with the human? You can’t be in there just reading and think you can speak to me that way.” Internally, he facepalmed. He really had lost track of time, hadn’t he? No way he was admitting that to Lucifer, though. “What makes you think you can talk to me like I’m a child? I’ll get them done, and I’ve got plans to hang out with MC later.”

That made the older man’s blood boil. Normally he’d smack the other demon around a bit and call it a day, but that time was different. He had promised his human that he would refrain from harming his brothers, especially satan. They hate seeing the two fight. Violence is off the table, but something else they had shown him came to mind. Bingo…

The smirk on Lucifer’s face sent an odd feeling to his stomach. One he could’ve sworn he’d felt before, but couldn’t quite remember when. “Satan, I’m giving you five seconds to run. If I were you, I’d use them~” He raised one hand, teasingly wiggling his fingers. Oh... Oh.

Satan did what any rational demon would in that scenario; he ran for his life. Luci rarely got into teasing moods, but when he did, they were killer. Every brother in the House knew to fear a playful Lucifer. 

The eldest brother chuckled, watching the cat-lover flee. He loved moments like these, though he’d never admit it. He slowly counted to five listening to every shoe squeak and opening door as his brother ran. Finally, when the time was up, he pursued his victim for the evening.

Lucifer followed his mental map, retracing the noises he’d heard. A shoe squeak for a turn, a door slam for a room change. He reached the end of the trail, watching a bag swing on the closet door. There we are…

Taking long, slow strides, he walked over to the closet. The demon made sure every step was loud and slapped against the ground for his hidden brother to hear. Was it mean? Absolutely. Did he care? Not one bit.

Satan kept a hand pressed over his mouth, not daring to make a sound. He knew that Lucifer was just drawing it out. Before their human showed up, the brothers never would’ve considered such a playful option. But now? It was their favorite alternative, often on both the giving and receiving side. Lucifer was still the most revered in the family, even in such a silly sense.

Chuckling to himself, Lucifer flung the closet door open, grabbing his brother’s arm and pinning him to the couch before he could even think about running. Satan kicked and squirmed, his tucked cardigan quickly getting bunched as he tried to escape. “L-Lucifer! Let me go right now!” 

A gleam shone in his older brother’s eyes, one that sent a shiver down his spine. He only got that look when he was about to do something evil, usually to Mammon… If only the greedy avatar were there to distract him. 

Lucifer leaned in, speaking directly into his brother’s ear. “I want you to know, Satan, that I will be tickling you mercilessly.” His tone was as smug as it was level. The simple gesture made his stomach do anticipatory flips. “And I will be enjoying myself~”

Before he could even breathe another protest, Luci dug into his upper rib cage, scribbling and drilling his fingers between each bone. Satan fell in a giggle fit, his cheeks quickly pinkening. “L-Luhucifeheher! Nohoho! Gehet off mehehehe!” 

“Aww, how unfortunate for you, brother. I won’t be doing that anytime soon.” He cooed, climbing up and down Satan’s rib cage with his wiggly fingers. He had the other demon strongly pinned, giving him very little wiggle room. Still, he tried his best to get away. “Gohoho awahay! I-Ihihi’ll stohop reading fohor todahahay!” 

Lucifer believed him, though he didn’t care. His sadism kept him going, but more than that, he liked seeing his logical brother laugh. “Go away? What have I said about you speaking to me like that?” He moved his wiggling fingers to Satan’s neck, basking in the high-pitched squeal he caused. “N-NYAHAHAO! LUHUCIFER, PLEHEHEASE!” That had to be one of his favorite spots, though the true winner was up next.

Satan hated begging anyone for anything, especially Lucifer. His neck was stupidly ticklish, though, and he’d much rather beg under Luci than laugh and squeal like a child. The prideful demon had no intentions of stopping, instead moving to Satan’s “jackpot spot” as his brothers called it. He moved two fingers underneath the boy’s chin, attacking the area with his short nails.

Satan was not proud of his reaction.

A mash-up of a squeal, snort and scream ripped from his throat, his whole body jolting at the feeling. The blush had pretty much taken over his face, tinting his neck and ears a vibrant crimson. “L-LUHAHAHA! I- IHI- NAHAHAHO!” Amidst the crazed laughter, unintelligible nonsense reached the other demon’s ears. He couldn’t understand that if he tried.

“Wow, Satan; I never knew a demon could get so flushed. You’re as red as Diavolo’s coat.” Lucifer had no problems  being an asshole to his brother; he had promised he wouldn’t hurt the other demon, but he never said he wouldn’t drive him mad. The teasing was just one more way to make sure his punishment stuck.

Satan was lost in his laughter. His nerves felt as if they were on fire with the ticklish sensation, his typically logical and quick mind a squishy, bubbly soup. There was no way he could do anything but laugh and hope Lucifer had a heart. “PLEAHAHA- PLEHEASE! MEHEHERCY!” 

While he was greatly enjoying himself, he could tell his cat-loving brother was at his wits end. With a sigh, he retracted his fingers from beneath Satan’s chin, granting the man his mercy. “You’re lucky I’m feeling benevolent today, brother. Next time, I won’t stop my fun so quickly.” 

With that, he released Satan’s arms and dusted off his coat as he stood. He had no shame for reducing his brother to a dazed, giggly puddle. Lucifer left the room, leaving his brother to recover by himself. He had a human to inform.

Satan curled up on the couch, rubbing his neck and hugging himself. Such an asshole… He refused to acknowledge the buzzing in his stomach, instead focusing on a revenge scheme. Taking a deep breath, the Avatar of Wrath stood, following the distant sound of his older brother’s footsteps. After he ranted to MC about how amazing the novel he received was, he had the perfect idea for his revenge. It was only a matter of time…

[picturejasper20]

A friend showed me this DP forum from when Phantom Planet aired back on 2007 and i found this interesting comment about Vlad dying from being crushed by the asteroid as a joke and the issues with it from user ¨baronobeefdip¨

The comment:

I just remembered another problem I had with this special- Vlad's supposed death. Yeah, I know that DP is a kid's show so the character's can't "die"...so I guess his fate is ambiguous. But, that's beside the point... My problem is that his "tragic fate" is potrayed in such a way that is so innapropriately comical (I didnt' find it funny in the least bit) that it makes me sick to my stomach. I mean, Vlad just lost EVERYTHING! Respect, home, friends, family, the guy couldn't be any more miserable. And, what do the writers do to showcase just how his life couldn't get any worse? They crush him with the meteor and they treat it like it's supposed to be the bloody funniest thing on earth. Well, I WASN'T laughing! So, let me get this straight. It's PERFECTLY FINE to showcase Danny's near-death in the special as dramatic and even showing his friends family...and even total strangers...lamenting his fate (even though he did clearly survive) just because he's the BLOODY HERO! But, we can't give Vlad the same sense of pity and remorse just because he's the "bad guy"? What the monkey-fart? Is it too much to ask to give a tragic character like Vlad the proper ending he deserves? I would've prefered to see Vlad become like his TUE-self in the end...you know, a lonely hermit with a heart full of remorse over all the evil he had done. Would that have been too much to ask? To see the lonely and heartbroken Vlad who had realized far too late the atrocities he had created?

Link to the forum post in wayback machine: https://web.archive.org/web/20100920234922/http://dannyphantomonline.com/phpBB/viewtopic.php?t=671

[destinedjourneyofwords]

Then I gathered all of my tear-filled words and poured them to settle on the paper.It was listened with patience,welcomed with a warm embrace and crowned as poetry.

My words find their voice at night As a silent flood of tears. Some words cry out for being taken for granted, Their value gets unnoticed,their worth unspoken Some words weep for being unappreciated Despite tireless efforts and endless devotion. Some words mourn for being misunderstood, Their intent gets twisted,their meaning gets lost. Some words lament for being blamed brutally Their innocence gets stained,their soul gets fractured. Some words cry out for being ignored, Their presence is unfelt,their voice unheard. Some words sob for being unloved, Their heart gets broken,their spirit gets bruised. Some words simply cry to breathe, To break free from the weight of untold pain. Then I gathered all of my tear-filled words and poured them to settle on the paper.It was listened with patience,welcomed with a warm embrace and crowned as poetry.

© Paintings : Im Gebet, signiert, datiert F. Schurig & Mary Magdalene as a hermit by Francesco Hayez