Tumgik
#and also like. would it make sense for it to be nigel? unfortunately yes.
Text
i finished ghosts!! it was so good but also i’m pressing charges for them having the emotional montage of the found family with sam’s voiceover and then immediately having one of the ghosts get sucked off >:(
9 notes · View notes
wolfeyedwitch · 3 years
Text
Weapons Don't Weep, Part 6
The alternate title for this piece is "Weapon.exe has stopped working". In which Weapon is very confused as to what these terrorists are planning.
CW for: fear of torture, minor mention of (feared, not actually occurring) vivisection, minor description of interrogation techniques, Weapon calling the rebels terrorists, dehydration. As always, please let me know if I missed any tags, or if you would like to be added to the taglist!
Masterlist
------------------------------
The Weapon didn’t know how long the drive to the terrorist base took. It tried to follow the terrorist leader’s instructions to get some rest, but it just couldn’t. It was too keenly aware of its dangerous position. It couldn’t stop itself from analyzing just what might await it when they arrived.
It was nearly paralyzed with fear by the time the transport stopped and it was brought out, blinking in the sudden light after its blindfold was removed. It didn't know what to expect, other than pain. These terrorists didn't know what it was, didn't understand its powers, so they would obviously try to figure it out. Then they would dispose of it.
Would they force it to use its powers for them to watch?
Would they cut it open, try to see what made it tick from the inside?
It had to swallow bile as it was brought to the medical bay. It didn't want this. It didn't want to be pulled apart and put back together again. It didn't want more tests, more surgeries.
What it wanted didn't matter. Not with its handlers, and especially not here with the terrorists.
The two from the transport, the leader and the one named Chloe, led it to a cot in the medical bay and had it sit down. The medic talked with the two terrorists, but despite the Weapon’s best efforts it couldn’t hear what was said. It seemed to be malfunctioning; all sensory input seemed like it was coming from very far away. Nothing quite made sense by the time its brain processed the information.
Finally, the three finished their conversation and walked back to where it was sitting. The medic pulled up a stool and sat down, while Chloe and their leader stood a little ways back, keeping watch over it.
“Hello,” the medic said. “I’m Dr. Trello, but you can call me Nigel.”
Its throat just clicked the first time it tried to speak. It swallowed hard and tried again. “H… hello, sir.”
The doctor frowned at that. Turning to the others, he asked, “Did you give them anything to drink?”
Chloe nodded. “On our way back. I gave them some from my water bottle, but they didn’t want to drink much.”
Of course it didn’t. It didn’t know how long the trip was, and it knew better than to make a mess due to unfortunate biological processes.
“Bring me a bottle of electrolytes, please.” He looked back to the Weapon, taking in the restraints still on it. “And a straw.”
Chloe nodded and left.
The doctor turned back to the Weapon. He smiled thinly. “I know you must be scared right now. That’s okay. I’m also guessing you’re confused about why you’re here.”
It waited, but the man seemed to want a response. It finally gave a small nod.
He smiled at it again. “Zeke and Chloe told me about your tracker.”
It held very, very still, following some lizard-brained instinct that said holding still would keep it safe from predators. Footsteps sounded from the doorway, and it managed to keep itself from turning to look.
Chloe walked into its line of sight with a plastic bottle of bright blue liquid in one hand. She smiled at it, too. “I didn’t know if you had a favorite flavor, so I grabbed mine. Hope that’s okay.”
It didn’t understand the statement, but knew she was looking for a response. “Yes, sir.”
The three terrorists shared a look at its words. Had it done something wrong already? Its pounding head was making it hard to think.
Chloe recovered first. “Sealed bottle,” she said, working the orange cap off the bottle with a small hiss of escaping air. She held up a little… paper package? She ripped it open to reveal a straw. Pulling on one end, she extended the straw and bent it to a slight angle, then placed it in the bottled liquid. She then took a sip from it.
“Not drugged. I was gonna use two straws, but then figured that you might be worried we’d drugged the straw or something. Either way, here.” She set the bottle, straw and all, on a small table; the table was then pulled over so it was close enough for the Weapon to reach the drink.
“Go ahead and drink that, and I’ll explain what we’re going to do,” the doctor said.
It complied. The liquid was room temperature, but still a boon to its dry throat and parched mouth. It had to make itself drink slowly rather than gulp the drink down all at once.
“So,” the doctor continued, “what we’re going to do. First off, we need to get rid of the tracker. There’s no way around that.”
The terrorist leader said, “We can’t have Government finding our location. Getting rid of the tracker is non-negotiable, as is anything else regarding the safety of my team and this base.”
“However,” the doctor said, “that is the only thing we will do without your consent.”
What?
Its confusion must have shown on its face, because the terrorist leader nodded. “Anything other than what’s absolutely necessary for our safety? We won’t do it without your permission.”
“We’d be massive hypocrites if we did anything else,” Chloe added. “The whole reason we’re fighting against Government in the first place is because we believe people have the right to freedom.”
It stared blankly at the three terrorists. It understood all the words they were saying individually. Put together in this order, though? It was more than a little confused.
The leader gave it a small smile. “It’s okay that you don’t believe us. We just wanted to make it clear at the outset what you could expect from us. We will be getting rid of the tracker. We will ask you questions about Government, about your powers and how they use them. But while you’re here, we will not harm you beyond what is absolutely necessary for our safety.”
“Like the restraints, and the tracker,” Chloe said. “Sorry about that.”
The leader nodded. “You will be provided with food and water. You will be given time and a place to sleep.”
“You will be given any necessary medical treatment,” the doctor said.
This was literally the opposite of how to conduct an effective interrogation. Prisoners were to be kept off-balance, scared, always guessing at what will come next. Prisoners should be kept uncomfortable, given no food for as long as possible, and as little water as medically necessary. Prisoners should be kept awake for as long as it takes for them to break. These terrorists were saying they were going to do the opposite of everything it knew about interrogation methods.
It had been trained in how to withstand interrogation. Well. How to withstand the methods that Government used, the ones that gave best results. Was this seemingly bizarre setup some kind of interrogation that it hadn’t been taught to withstand?
“Do you understand what we’ve explained?” asked the terrorist leader.
Not at all.
“Yes, sir.”
-----------------
Taglist:
@appleejuice, @kim-poce, @badluck990, @cupcakes-and-pain, @lonesome--hunter, @wits-and-wrongs, @neuro-whump, @winedark-whump @aswallowimprisoned, @rose-pinkie, @whumpy-writings, @whump-cravings, @secretwhumplair. @hobiisthesunfiteme, @whumpcreations
116 notes · View notes
rachelbethhines · 4 years
Text
Tangled Salt Marathon - The Alchemist Returns
Tumblr media
Strap in folks, cause this is going to be a long one. In truth, there are very few flaws in this episode, but in order to explain them I have to really get into some character analysis first. 
Summary:  Varian comes to Rapunzel for help in finding the remnants of the mystical golden flower, which may hold the key to stopping the Black Rocks. Working together, they venture through the old tunnels beneath Corona. Meanwhile Cass and Eugene work together to figure out who drugged the castle’s populace with a truth serum. 
Behold! The One and Only Time Frederic is Called Out on His BS; and Nothing Comes of It. 
Tumblr media
Rapunzel finally, finally stands up to her dad and points out both his abusiveness and his poor leadership. It doesn’t affect the narrative in anyway. Neither character learns anything from this nor changes their points of view. This conversation might as well not have happened given how the characters behave in later episodes/seasons. 
The only reason this scene exists is to give Rapunzel motivation for stealing the flower within the episode. A goal that she changes her mind about towards the end. Thereby walking back on such motivation and putting us back at square one with her development. 
Rapunzel Isn’t Being Truthful With Herself Nor the Audience 
Tumblr media Tumblr media
So people aren't always one hundred percent truthful about what they want and their goals. Especially if it involves admitting something about yourself or a loved one that you don’t want to acknowledge. Fictional characters are meant to give the illusion of being real so they can sometimes mimic this behavior.  
Throughout the episode Rapunzel keeps on assisting that she’s doing this ‘for Corona’, but we’re given context clues along side that to tell us that her real reasons are about her relationship with her father. 
Unfortunately, the show has a bad habit of not communicating information clearly and also has a history of expecting the audience to take what the characters say at face value. Ergo, it’s easy to miss Rapunzel’s true motivations and thereby fail to fully understand her actions and decisions throughout. 
Once Again, These Prophetic Dreams Go Nowhere 
Tumblr media
Dream Varian mentions Rapunzel has a ‘destiny’ but the show never spells out what that destiny actually is nor why she needs to fulfill it. Sure there’s a big quest for the moonstone in season two, but the rocks stop being a threat by then so really, she doesn’t actually need to go on that quest. In fact, she would save a lot of people at lot of trouble if she did nothing at all. That’s poor storytelling. You need something driving the action; a reason to motivate the hero.  
Secondly, we never get an explanation for why she randomly has these dreams in the first season but for none of the others. Nor why Varian is at the center of the them when it’s other villains she needs to actually be warned about, like say Zhan Tiri. 
No, the real reason why this dream sequence exists is just to reiterate Rapunzel’s internal conflict. She wants a relationship with her Dad, but he’s a male Gothel, and she’s now caught in the middle of his and Varian’s conflict because she failed to take responsibility when she needed to. And is still failing because she doesn’t want to shatter her illusions about Frederic. 
Shoving the main protagonist’s driving conflit into a subtextual dream sequence is lazy. Especially since we get no official resolution to said conflict. Rapunzel never acknowledges the problem here, never follows up on any type of action, and she never faces any true consequences for ignoring the issue. 
She carries on believing in her fantasy version of Frederic, even as he continues to do harmful things, and the narrative just rewards both her and him for it. 
There Should Have Been an Episode Showing the Audience Varian’s Side of the Story 
Tumblr media
What happened to Varian in between Queen for a Day and this episode is told only through context clues. Nothing is stated outright, meaning the audience has to rely too heavily on inference and are left to piece together what happened on their own like a puzzle. That’s poor writing. 
Even something as simple as ‘how much time has past’ (its three months btw, S1 is six months long and QfaD is the meant to be the midpoint) is left up to the viewer to keep up with rather then being clearly stated. This is made even harder to do by the marketing team showing most of the episodes out of order. 
You need to clearly relay information to your audience. That means repeating said information in a variety of ways over the course of the story. Have those context clues, but also have more overt hints, and direct reveals interspersed along with that. Especially when dealing with the motivations and goals of the character driving the main plot. 
Even if you attribute the lack of a Varain episode to the ‘twist’ in this one, (a twist that was revealed in QfaD anyways) there’s still no excuse for why we didn’t get a flashback episode afterwards to fill this hole in narrative out.  
Don’t Pretend Ignorance Rapunzel 
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Nigel literally repeated the rumor to her face last episode. She knows her father is lying about the rocks and attacked her for the scroll. She knows from the letter that those same guards were chasing down Varian for said scroll. She knows about Corona’s laws and what would happen to Varian if the guards caught him. 
There is zero reason for her to be acting like this is new information. Let alone have any right to feign concern after three months of ignoring his plea for help.
That’s what I mean about the series not communicating clearly and wanting the audience to take things at face value. The show deliberately has the characters say things that contradict established events to try and get the audience on their side. 
The episode is trying to telling us, ‘See! Rapunzel is innocent in all this cause she didn’t know, but she’s trying to make up for it now’. Yet, if you’ve been watching and paying attention to the details, you know that’s not the truth here. 
Good writing is about communicating ideas to your audience. But this show can’t decide on which idea to communicate. Is Rapunzel at fault or no? You can’t have it both ways. Either she screwed up and thereby caused the conflict in question now or she didn’t. If she didn’t, then events shouldn’t progress like they do. If she did, then it needs to be acknowledged and she needs to held accountable by the narrative.  
More Hints into Rapunzel's True Motivation 
Tumblr media Tumblr media
I can’t stress this enough. Rapunzel’s reasons for stealing the flower has nothing to do with Corona. That is an excuse. It’s about trying to find out what her Dad is hiding from her and why he’s lying to her. This comment right here is what compels Raps to go along with his plan.  
Also...
Varian Isn’t Lying Here
Tumblr media
I also want to make it perfectly clear that Varian is being upfront with Raps. He tells her his plan is to steal the flower and why. She’s the one that makes the assumption that this entails them only taking one petal and the assumption that ‘all our problems’ only means saving Corona. Even though saving Corona and saving Quirin are the same problem. (more on this later) 
It’s important to understand Rapunzel’s thought process and her true motivations in order to make sense of her actions later in the story. 
Rapunzel’s internal conflict is her need for autonomy versus her fear of rejection. The ‘for Corona’ and ‘one petal’ excuses are used because she thinks they’ll play well with her Dad. In order words, they’re reassurances to her that should she get caught and have to face her father’s disapproval then she could counteract his arguments with his own belief system about ‘putting the kingdom’s needs first’ and ‘following your own inner voice.’ 
And yes, both Rapunzel and Frederic are big fat hypocrites for this, but Rapunzel hasn’t acknowledged that fact to herself and is trying to convince herself throughout the episode to believe in her own excuses. 
Why Do You Care About Treason Rapunzel? 
Tumblr media Tumblr media
For context, treason is the highest crime in any country. It’s punishable by death, even in the real world. Now each country has its own legal definition of what constitutes as treason. Here in a America, in Article III, Section 3 of the United States Constitution, treason is specifically limited to levying war against the US, or adhering to their enemies, giving them aid and comfort. And only during a time of war. Legally, a time of war has to be approved by the US congress. Technically, congress hasn’t declared war since World War II. This is why certain people haven’t been convicted of treason like acts both in, and out of, later US conflicts because the definition is arguably too narrow and specific. But it’s intentionally that way to help prevent false accusations and to keep people in power from murdering their political opposition. 
Before the US, treason just meant opposing the ruler of the land in any way. The founding fathers committed treason just by signing the Declaration of Independence. They all would have been executed had the US lost the revolution. Here in Corona, that old definition still stands. Simple theft of royal property, a non violent act, is considered treason and we already know it’s punishment. Eugene stole royal property and was almost hanged for it in the movie. 
Now Rapunzel though, she is royalty. This stuff she’s stealing is technically her own property. She’ll inherit all of these things once Queen. Moreover, we all know that Frederic wouldn’t harm Rapunzel let alone kill her. She’s not in any real danger here. So why does she care? 
Remember that Rapunzel’s internal conflict is personal autonomy versus her fear of rejection. She only hesitates in her pursuit of answers when reminded of Frederic’s possible disapproval. That’s why she stops under his frowning picture to say this. “Treason” only means possible rejection or disapproval from her father. The worst thing she faces is another argument with him.   
Meanwhile, Varian’s life is very much at stake here. He is risking everything, quite literally, to save his father. But his life was arguably forfeit as soon as Frederic decided he wanted the scroll. What’s to prevent the king from claiming that as his own property even when it’s really not? If he’s already sent guards after Varian and the scroll then that’s precisely what he’s already done. 
The series is acting like Rapunzel is the reasonable one here because she questions stealing, but the reality is she’s being selfish and willfully obtuse. Multiple lives are at stake here, including the one of the person she is talking to right now. Breaking the law, defying her father, in order to save those lives shouldn’t even be in question at all. 
Corona and Quirin Aren’t Conflicting Interests. 
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Quirin and Corona are both facing the same problem. Solving one will inevitably mean solving the other. Any distinction between the two is solely created within Rapunzel’s own mind. 
She does this to to hide her true motivations and conflict from herself. The show does this to try and villainize Varian over Frederic. 
There’s a clear bias in who the series wants you to root for and so it skews the perception of what’s actually at stake by creating a non-existent competition between Quirin’s life and the country’s safety. Even though Quirin, Varian, and Old Corona are all apart of the kingdom. They’re all Rapunzel’s and Federic’s responsibly too. Saving Quirin’s life should be more than reason enough to steal the flower on it’s own. 
But this is ‘Rapunzel’s show’ and according to the creators, that means that her personal feelings are more important than actual human lives. Not really, but that’s their mindset and approach to conflicts in the show.
Rapunzel’s True Motivation is Revealed
Tumblr media
So we’ve followed the hints, but here it is stated outright. This was never about Corona, the rocks,Varian’s safety, nor Quirin’s life. This is about her need for autonomy. Her own personal quest for assertiveness. She’s been bullied and abused by two steprate parental figures now and she’s growing tired of it. Which is understandable and valid, but it shouldn’t be made more important than everyone else’s problems. Everytime Rapunzel says ‘for Corona’, she really means ‘for herself.’ 
Rapunzel Shouldn’t be the Only Person Solving the Obstacles Here
Tumblr media
Varian is just as smart as Rapunzel, if not smarter. This has been established throughout the show both before and after this episode. Meanwhile, Rapunzel is more physically adept than Varian. This whole sequence in the tunnels should have been both Rapunzel and Varian teaming up and complementing the other’s skill sets. They need to be on equal footing in order to sell their conflict later on. But the show deliberately down plays Varian’s competence in this episode in an effort to make Rapunzel look good.  
‘Girl power’ shouldn’t mean making the character perfect. It especially shouldn’t mean making other characters weaker in comparison. Women want equality. That means we want to see female characters treated as people. That means we want female characters to be flawed while still contributing to the plot same as the male characters. That doesn’t mean we want to be paraded around as the only competent person in the room. We want to be on the same level as the boys not above them.    
Over idealization and glorification of ‘strong’ female characters is just as problematic as damsels in distresses.
Writers like Chris Sonnenburg grew up during the heyday of Third-wave Feminism. Right on the cusp between second-wave and third-wave points of view as women really started to challenge Hollywood’s portrayal of themselves as homemakers and love interests. They wanted to be the heroes for once. Starting in the 60s and reaching pick popularity in the 70s and early 80s, film makers responded by making female characters who could physically fight but either failed to give them any sort of depth and/or made them the only archetype available.   
Chris, and several other male writers who lived during this era, have internalized this approach by default without actually examining how it came into existence nor why women would no longer be satisfied by this portrayal of them, if they ever were. All we’ve done is trade one stereotype for another, as male creators fetishize what was once meant to be an attempt to empower ourselves.       
Had Chis actually brought more female writers onto the show and listened to the criticisms from his female crew, he could have better avoided problems like the one above. But instead he dug in his heels and insisted that he already knew what we wanted. He doesn’t. 
Why Would You Assume This Eugene?
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Varian hasn’t actually done anything wrong yet. His worst crimes are drugging people with a magic potion, which is what Xavier did without consequence only two episodes ago, and attempting to steal a magical healing flower that the king has been hoarding from his subjects anyways. A king who has been persecuting Varian unfairly and they know this because of Quest for Varian. 
Eugene of all people should be sympathetic towards Varian’s plight. He’s been there himself. He should also know that the rumors about Varian attacking Rapunzel are untrue because Raps told him about the events of Queen for a Day herself. 
Meanwhile Cassandra was actually there. She knows Varian’s problems and is supposedly his ‘friend.’ She has even less reason to be hostile towards him. 
But once again, the series has the characters respond to things that contradict established events in order to create a bias in the audience. “See, Eugene and Cass doesn’t trust Varian and neither should Rapunzel. See, how evil he really is?” It tries to tell us. In order to convince us to excuse Frederic’s behavior so that when the series does just that through Rapunzel choosing his side we’ll be on board with it. You know, unless you have been paying attention, already have a developed moral code, and the reasoning facilities of an adult. 
Rapunzel Lacks Empathy     
Tumblr media
Keep in mind, ‘for Corona’ really means ‘for herself’. The only competition between Quirin and the kingdom is one that she’s fabricated in her own mind. Varian not caring about the island punctures holes into her excuses. Even though Varian is a fourteen/fifteen year old who holds no responsibility for the safety of a whole country. Especially one that’s mistreated him. Of course his father’s life is going to be more important to him. 
What Rapunzel is really asking here is, “Why don't you care about what I care about?” “Why aren’t you concerned about my feelings over your own?” 
Which makes sense for her character. She’s a woman who has been trapped in a tower her whole life. She lacks the experience needed to be an empathetic person. She’s never had to grieve before. The only permanent death she’s known is that of her abuser. Her trauma over nearly losing Eugene and Pascal was the fear of loss, not the actual process of living without someone. Rapunzel has no framework of reference in order to truly understand what Varian is going through. 
Sympathy is feeling sorry for someone. Empathy is understanding how a person feels. Rapunzel may be a sympathetic person but she’s not an empathetic one and there’s a difference between being ‘nice’ and being kind. The show presents to us a woman who needs to learn that difference. The problem is that she never does. 
This is actually a brilliant conflict and point of characterization. It’s taking what we already know about a character and expanding upon it to give us believable flaws that impact the story. I actually like this conflict. I like this portrayal. I initially preferred the series over the movie because of this. 
I want Rapunzel to be flawed. I want her flaws to to inform the plot. I want to like her as a character. But I can’t. Because the show never acknowledges these flaws, never has her grow as a person. She remains unempathetic and selfish till the end even as she gains more experience, and the show acts like she is justified in hurting others.  
This exchange is the quillivant of  a rich person who donates money to environmentalist causes trying to shame a poor child for daring to ‘waste water’ in order to take a bath, even while ignoring their own factories spewing pollutants into the local river. The show tries to claim that classism is okay so long as it’s perpetuated by the creator’s favs. 
Varian is in the Right   
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
First off he never claimed that he was only going to take one petal. Rapunzel just assumed that. Also, he’s right there is no difference. Once again Rapunzel has fabricated a distinction in her mind in order to have an excuse to sell her  dad. She only hesitates now because taking the whole thing means there’s more risk of getting caught and less possibility of weaseling out of punishment through deniability. 
Never mind that Frederic doesn’t own the flower anyways. He stole it from Gothel first, outside of his land’s borders. Never mind that him taking the flower actually causes harm to others while stealing it back does not. Never mind that breaking a law to save a human life is not only justifiable but preferable. Never mind that the king is essentially hoarding medicine from the populace, thereby breaking the social contract of a leader towards his people and becoming a despot instead.       
No, Varian hurt Rapunzel’s feelings so he’s evil don’t you see? He placed his needs above the main character’s wants and desires, ergo the series treats him as a villain. 
Look, I’m not saying that Varian is without fault nor that everything he does is justifiable. But the show (and certain fans) goes out of its way to demonize the character even when he’s doing what’s actually morally right. This isn’t the point when Varian falls to the darkside, that’s yet to come, but it is the point where the series starts to play favorites with its characters at the expense of teaching coherent lessons. 
Inconsistent Messages 
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Yes, how dare he do the exact same thing as Pascal and Max did two episodes later. Don’t you know, he’s the villain; even though he actually has more reason to use the truth serum than they did the mood potion. 
The problem of centering so much of the conflict on Rapunzel’s personal feelings means that Rapunzel and the show has double standards for how characters are treated. Friends of Rapunzel gets free passes. Lack of friendship means you’re now the enemy and can’t be excused. Even though in real life that is what we call nepotism and an abuse of power.   
Authoritarianism Vs Consequentialism   
Tumblr media Tumblr media
When you mention the word authoritarianism to someone they automatically picture in their head armed men in uniforms marching in the streets attacking innocent people on behalf of a dictator’s orders. Yet, that’s not what authoritarianism is. That’s fascism, which can spring forth from authoritarians gaining political power but it’s not the only manifestation of this philosophy.  
Authoritarianism is the belief system that the ‘authority’ is always right, even when wrong. An authoritarian will find any excuse to follow and believe in their chosen authority even when that authority has failed them or others.
The opposing philosophy here is consequentialism. That’s the belief that right and wrong are directly linked to consequence. To their minds something is morally wrong if the action has a bad outcome for others. 
To illustrate the difference let's look at a near universal rule. 
“Murder is wrong.” 
Now both the authoritarian and the consequentialist will normally agree with this. But the ‘why’ to them couldn’t be any more different. 
To an authoritarian ‘murder is wrong’ because the authority has deemed it so. That authority can be anything that the anthoritian has personally chosen; God, the government, their parents ect. It’s completely arbitrary and subject to change on a whim. The authoritarian lacks consistency and conviction and will often have multiple chosen authorities that will contradict one another. If one of those authorities came out in favor of murder then there’s a strong chance that the authoritarian will change their position or belief as oppose to denouncing their chosen leader.     
Meanwhile, ‘murder is wrong’ to the consequentialist because there are clear irreversibly bad consequences for doing it. It removes a life from the world. All possibilities for that person are now forever snuffed out. It hurts those left behind. ect. The consequentialist is consistent in their beliefs so long as the consequence remains the same. They can’t be swayed by mere orders. That’s not to say that consequentialism is incorruptible. A consequentialist can easily become a knight templar if they are forced to weigh consequences against each other. Then it becomes ‘murder is still wrong unless it achieves this arbitrary goal’.  
In truth, morality is a sliding scale for most people and you normally hold more than one ethical belief system. However history has proven that authoritarianism is the more often dangerous and corruptible philosophy as it relies heavily on peer pressure, groupthink, and yes, abuse. Most authortians don't come from healthy loving homes. Either they were abused or are abusers themselves. When conducting studies on authoritarianism psychologists and sociologists use questions about parenting in order to pinpoint who is and isn’t an authoritarian as most people aren’t going to just come right out and claim we should go back to feudalism and the divine right of kings. 
An out of control authoritarian is a bully with power. An out of control consequentialist is just a vigilante. 
Frederic and Varian are the representatives of the two sides of these opposing belief systems and the representatives of what happens when people with those belief systems become corrupt. By having the main character choose between the two of them and siding with the her father, the authoritarian, the show is now validating this philosophy. 
Breaking an unjust law shouldn’t be presented as a bad thing here. Blindly accepting Frederic’s rule shouldn’t be the end result of all this. Excusing his abusive behavior shouldn’t be the finale outcome of the story. There’s not a single thing that Frederic, and by extension Rapunzel, does that hasn’t been done by corrupt governments in the real world. Their reasons for doing so be damned. 
Given the current political landscape and the increasing push to give real life anthortirans more power, this was absolutely the wrong message to put into a children’s show. It’s not that children will grow up to become authoritarians themselves by just watching the show, but it can condition them to go along with authoritarian abuse if they are now familiar the excuses abusers use to validate their actions. Especially, if they are already trapped in an abusive environment and are being fed these excuses by their current abusers. 
I've already seen this toxic thought process played out by younger members of the fandom who are only just now forming their moral codes. “Accept what’ve you’ve been given.” “It’s okay, your parent (the authority) loves you and knows what’s best” “Hurting people is alright because they’ve been hurt you need to ofter up understanding” 
NO!
Theses aren’t good lessons. These are the lies fed to you by abusive people. And the show repeatedly validates, justifies, and excuses both abuse and political corruption. Whether the creators believe this philosophy or not, they just  approved of it anyways through their own incompetence.  
Varian has Every Reason to Not Trust Rapunzel
Tumblr media Tumblr media
This the third time in three months that Rapunzel has backed out of helping him. All for increasingly flimsy reasons. She’s making a lot of promises here but not offering up any concrete solutions. Remember she’s not ready to confront her father yet, and neither of them know that she’s the sundrop herself. So what is her plan here? How is she suppose to recuse Quirin and prevent Varian from being unjustly punished if she can’t stand up to the one person who is responsible for causing these problems in the first place. 
Can you really blame Varian for going through with what he does here given how she has treated him thus far and would most likely continue to treat him? Yet that’s precisely what the show wants you to do because ‘stealing is wrong’ even though in this case it actually isn’t. 
This is Out of Character
Tumblr media
Once again, both Cass and Eugene have no reason within the current narrative to be so hostile towards Varian, yet. They’re only doing so now to create bias in the viewer. For Eugene this is especially out of character. I mean we’ve already seen Cass place her ambitions of above others people’s needs both before and after this, but Eugene is constantly written as the heart of the show. He’s suppose to be the most empathetic and caring person in the group, and yet here he is trying to arrest an orphan who’s only stealing to survive. Sound familiar? He of all people should be the first to defend Varian not attack him.
Excuse You, Raps!
Tumblr media
You know very well what he is. He’s a child. A lost, lonely, grieving, and desperate child who’s been let down by everyone who is responsible for him including yourself. But far be it for the show to actually point this out by stating it plainly and show you for the self centered ass you really are. 
Scenes Like This are Why Varian Should Have Been the Deuteragonist
Tumblr media
His story maybe connected to Rapunzel’s but it doesn’t revolve around her. He has his own stakes and conflicts that happen to intersect or oppose with Raps given whatever point in the narrative we’re at. As such we gets scenes like this one in his lab where he is the sole focus and is pushing the story forward. No other character actually gets this. 
Eugene’s arc has little to no bearing on the overall plot and Cassandra’s solo scenes in season three do nothing to further push the story nor give new insights into her character, as her given goal and motivation is too dependent upon Rapunzel herself to be shown separately.  
Out of all the main characters, Varian’s conflict is the only one that holds enough tension to maintain a separate story line. He needs this focus in order to make sense of what's going on with the larger picture and to resolve his conflict in a satisfying manner. Had the the creators been smart enough to follow through with Varian’s story till the end instead of dumping it at the last minute in season two and hastily rewriting a half-arsed resolution it in season three, then we’ve could have gotten the Disney equivalent of a Zuko vs. Aang, Loki vs Thor, or even Duck vs Rue/Fakir arc. As is, we’re only left with the table scraps of several loosely connected stories none of which are very satisfying to watch. 
Conclusion
I still like this episode and Varian’s arc overall but I can't in good conscience call it well written knowing now where it all leads to. Nor can I in could good conscience recommend the show knowing the awful morals it touts. And that makes me angry. Angry that I was fooled into thinking that this show had depth and maturity. Angry that I ever once held this show up as being good. Angry that I invested myself into believing that this show would finally give me a decent Disney anti-villain that I could like. Angry that trusted the creators not to be raging arseholes who made poor creative decisions based off of ego and questionable ethics...
I started this marathon so that I could vent my feelings and gain some closure, while also opening up a frank discussion about how bad creative decisions can lead to bad lessons in children's media. This show has many of the same problems as a lot of current tv series do but all condensed down into one place and there are things to be learn from that.However after this series of reviews are over I doubt I’ll ever watch the show again. It’s honestly not worth the time. 
210 notes · View notes
post-itpenny · 3 years
Note
So What have your elders been up too?
How have the elders been?
Well, not counting Maggie and Magpie~
Canis Major- Has been… well, Canis has been Canis. His world doesn’t change much wich is just how he likes it. He is a little…. concerned. He has grown to tolerate Atlas’ visits, the boy is polite and an eager learner. But, the boy has also requested that a “friend” come with his next visit. Canis has convinced himself he doesn’t really like children (which is a lie), they’re so loud and messy. Two of them running around? It would be as bad as when Nigel and Venus were young.
Adeline- Has unfortunately fallen under the weather. It’s nothing too serious (just a heavy cold) and she would insist on continuing to work if she didn’t have the common sense that no one wants to visit a doctor that can get them sick. As the elder of Healing, Adeline can treat nearly any illness or diseases with just a touch. But she herself has to heal the slow and normal way.
The Jackal- Wants soooooooooo badly to visit to meet Harper (he has met Ama back in December I just need to write it ^^’). Otherwise he is himself as always and enjoying playing pranks on others. An important anniversary is coming up however… he’s going to be rather somber during that time but he’ll be ok.
The Lethe- All is quiet in her realm wich is just how she likes it. This time of year she gets a lot of flower petals floating down into her realm. Children plucking flowers and whispering “they love me, they love me not.” It’s always so pretty and makes everything smell nice. Innocent and sweet secrets are her favorite to keep.
The Twins- Are enjoying watching the events of the various AU’s. Their job is to observe the various realities and deal with any anomalies that occur. Are they some of the first in on any good gossip? Oh heck yes.
Keir- is he an elder? No.
Is he alive, yes :3
2 notes · View notes
storyunrelated · 5 years
Text
Wizards Up The Spout - Bits and pieces
FWizards Up The Spout is another scattershot tangle of ideas that needs tidying up and straightening out. Parts of it shine clear and bright in my mind, separated by vast swathes I’d prefer not to think about, leaving it a disjointed mess.
Here though we meet Smith, a dubious man (a wizard, in the context of the story) of dubious methods and motivations having a conversation with Nigel, a man who is about to have something bad happen to him.
This would be another attempt by me - one of my many attempts - at making a creepy, unsettling ‘villain’ type character.
Also just to try and write dialogue I hope comes across as, I don’t know, threatening?
You tell me.
Smith lent forward and patted Nigel on the knee, making Nigel flinch.
“Now I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking that I’m not an elf - and you’d be right! Keen eye on you! You see, I’d studied elves, and the same thought just kept coming back to me: how do they control those children? The control is perfect! Totally loyal, know exactly what they’re meant to be doing no matter how far. Extensions of the body! That’s the kind of thing that could be very useful to a man in my line of work. And if someone else can have it, I can have it, yes? Just a question of working out how, yes?” 
“So I did a little more research. Found some elves of my own, opened them up, poked around. Found some interesting squishy bits. Eventually, I found the one squishy bit I wanted! Found an adult elf who wasn’t really using theirs and just-so happened to visit them when their children were out. I borrowed it! They didn’t seem to mind, or at least I don’t remember them trying very hard to stop me. And lo and behold, the children now think I’m daddy. Isn’t that nice?”
Smith continued smiling and trailed a hand across one of his minions as they moved past. They were all smiling too, Nigel saw, in a blank, vacant kind of a way that made Nigel even more uncomfortable than he already was. Smith turned back to Nigel, looking a tiny bit more serious than he had a moment before.
“Anyway. The point of all of this is that sometimes you just need an all-natural ingredient, and they’re sometimes in places or in people you wouldn’t expect. This is where you come in.”
That got Nigel’s immediate and undivided attention. Smith was staring at him now, and didn’t seem to want to blink. Nigel noticed that, for all of Smith’s youthful good looks, his eyes looked tired. Exhausted, even. Not to mention bloodshot.
“Have you ever heard that in some places, albinos are murdered for the body parts? For use in potions and rituals and such. No? Well it happens. Not exactly every day, but it happens. Rot, obviously. Nothing special about them, magically speaking. It’s just superstitious nonsense. But there are people in the world who have bits and pieces in them that are actually special, that are actually useful. Can’t tell from the outside though, oh no, can’t tell by looking. You have to sniff it out, see? Which is hard work. But rewarding.”
Smith sat forward, moving so he was balancing only on the very edge of the chair.
“And let me tell you, you smell good. Very, very good,” he said, the smile back in full force. He then stretched, arms over his head and grunting to himself, rolling his neck.
“Unfortunately, there is no way of me telling - sat here - which bit of yours is the bit I need to cut out. I can just tell there’s one in there, somewhere. Hardly precise, is it? Which means I’m going to have to cut and cut and cut until I find the right bit. Also unfortunately you are going to have to be alive for that. And awake. Sorry about that but, you know, magic. It’s a complex business in that way. Always the details.”
Whatever calming, smothering influence had wrapped up Nigel until this point finally broke and he could stand it no longer. It did not matter if he was surrounded or that the exits were covered, all that mattered was getting away.
“Children, if you wouldn’t mind holding my new friend nice and still for me? Daddy has to work.”
The screaming continued for some time once the work in question started. Precautions had been taken against anyone hearing these who might cause trouble, obviously, and so Smith was content to let Nigel scream however much he felt like. If Smith was being honest - and Smith was always honest, at least with himself - he had to admit that he actually rather liked the sounds that Nigel made. 
Smith knew that this was probably a bad sign, but he didn’t really care. Everyone had their vices, after all, and if one of his was a certain level of enjoyment and maybe just a smidgen of arousal when it came to the obvious terror and agony of another thinking being, well, what could he do about that? 
He was only human, after all. He wasn’t made of stone.
For context, briefly, elves here are weirdo beasts with one central, adult elf and lots of mindless ‘children’ elves who the adult sends off to do their bidding and bring them food as  the adult can’t move. Eventually one of the children, if it survives long enough, matures. And so on. 
It’s mentioned how this makes little sense.
2 notes · View notes
vincentspork · 6 years
Text
I've actually read the W.I.T.C.H. manga all the way through for the first time (the last time I tried to read it, only the first volume was translated....I just aged myself lol) and honestly? A lot of small things are done better. I can very much see why it was cancelled after two volumes considering the popular trends in Japan at the time, but what we did get really is good.
Tumblr media
Will’s emotional conflict
I mentioned this in a post yesterday, but Will grapples with her leadership much more obviously in the manga than she does in the original. Not to say that she accepts that mantle in the Italian comic with no problem - she struggles with handling conflicts between her friends often, and the weight of her position in the group as well as her role as a Guardian frequently causes problems between her and her friends and family. However, the manga version has a small scene where Will has a stress nightmare (similar to the one in the original where she has to draw her face back on with a marker, though that was much more about her identity and sense of self as a whole rather than her anxieties about her newfound responsibilities) and I think that's a nice touch. 
Tumblr media
She also briefly considers herself to be the cause of Elyon's disappearance, and worries that the other Guardians will dislike her because her arrival in town coincided with Elyon's kidnapping, which weren't angles that were explored in the original for a multitude of understandable reasons. Here she also tries to show her mother the heart, but she can't see it, which makes her realize that she's the only one who can vanquish the evil that's erupted (because the congregation is in the manga, but they seem to be even more passive here and never once talk to the girls.)
Taranee's development
Taranee is by no means ignored in the original, but I'd argue that she still gets the short end of the stick up until the second and third arcs, where she starts rebelling against the authority figures in her life to regain some sense of control. Outside of befriending Will, decoding the book they find in Elyon's basement, and getting kidnapped, she just isn't given a lot to do for a while.
Tumblr media
A moment of appreciation for how cute she is in this panel In the manga, she's shown bonding with Nigel, struggling with her self-doubt, and blaming herself for a lot of what transpires, which I think would have set her character up nicely for the following story arcs, had they ever gotten there. Unfortunately, the manga adaptation was cancelled right before the whole astral drop conflict, leaving us on a particularly upsetting cliffhanger, not only because I feel like the "does anyone notice that she's not really here" question would have hit harder in this version and that makes my heart hurt just thinking about it, but also because she’s never rescued. 
Tumblr media
This is the comic equivalent of that one article that said that Mini Viva were going to be the next big pop sensation and YES I am still upset about that
Yan Lin's extended screentime
In the Italian comic, Hay Lin's grandmother Yan Lin dies in the second issue, and by "die" I mean "spiritually leaves Earth and becomes a member of the council that supervises the Guardians", but they still give her a funeral to be thorough. In the manga, however, she leaves in that adaptation's equivalent of issue #4, which might not seem like that big of a difference, but the fact that the girls have more time to bond with her "human" form does actually impact the story. Her death was also explained as her Earthly duties being fulfilled in the original, but here, she transports to the Metamoor to stall Cedric from attacking the girls and uses her powers to stop him, which effectively kills her, as she was weakened due to the imbalance of good and evil in the universe. The story stops here, so I don't know if she would have been welcomed into the Congregation as she was in the Italian version, but the fact that she puts up a fight here is cool and gives her some edge over her original character (who I still love, don't worry)
Tumblr media
She’s still a little goofy here, thank god
Elyon's complexity
Elyon was a pretty flat character in the original, which was mostly due to last-minute creative changes that were going on behind the scenes. She's introduced primarily as Cornelia's friend, we learn that she's the target of light-hearted ribbing from Hay Lin and Irma, and then she's whisked off by her brother's right-hand man, who promptly turns her evil until halfway through the arc, where the original creator's plans got thrown out Cornelia suddenly remembers that her friend got kidnapped and brainwashed and miraculously runs into her right after Elyon has secretly defected to the resistance. Convenient! 
Tumblr media
“You’re okay, I guess” - Elyon to Cornelia. BFFs
Here, she's still written in kind of broad strokes (and her hidden talent of drawing her memories of her homeland isn't present - I almost wonder if the manga was based off of an older draft of the pitch?) but you explicitly see Cedric raking the initial seeds of doubt and confusion in Elyon. His plan is to make her distrust her friends, the only real thing that she has on Earth that makes her want to stay, so she'll more readily go to the Metamoor and trust her brother, who will then steal the crown from her. Her transition is much more gradual - in fact, by the manga's last issue, she still doesn't totally trust her brother or his associates. When she sees Will, Elyon begs her to stay in the Metamoor with her, and takes Taranee essentially to blackmail the rest of them to come back, where in the original she only did so to punish them for being against her brother’s goals. Definitely a more interesting take on her character than the original, where you see her becoming enamored with Cedric one minute and the next she's inexplicably baiting her friends into death traps and crashing funerals and walking through walls the next.
Also, she has this sick-ass horse
Tumblr media
Hell yeah
[Scan source]
21 notes · View notes
izaswritings · 6 years
Text
Title: Labyrinths of the Heart
Summary: Plagued by cryptic dreams, Rapunzel leaves to find the origins of the black rocks and face her destiny— only this time, she takes Varian with her.
Notes: I started this story a little while back, almost as soon as I heard about Varian’s fate. While this story will have both action, plot, and cool powers, it is primarily a story about people. Most of the focus will be on Varian and his relationships with the main group. Fair warning: things may get dark at times, but rest assured it’s all for the sake of a brighter future.
AO3 version is here.
Next chapter is here!
-
Chapter I: One Last Chance
-
Rapunzel is walking on a bridge of black stone.
Beneath her feet the rock turns icy blue at her touch, the pale colors flaring out like paint on water, a burst of intense color and then fading wisps unfurling to nowhere. They bloom like flowers beneath her feet, urging her onwards. The bridge stretches out into eternity, its start and end hidden by the horizon and a soft gray fog. She doesn’t know where it goes.
The path is cold against her bare toes, so cold it burns, pain tingling up and down her legs. No wind stirs the dry, icy air—her hair hangs flat and heavy from her scalp, shifting only with her movement, the long strands dragging behind her. Still, she walks on. She cannot say what drives her, only knows in her heart that she must keep moving, unless—
It is then that Rapunzel realizes she is alone.
There is nothing else. No world beyond the stone path, no people. Just the bridge, the fog, the void surrounding them all—and Rapunzel, walking an endless road, going nowhere, with no-one.
Fear strikes her heart. She is alone. She is alone on a bridge of icy stone, and the path is so, so cold.
“Eugene? Cass? Is anyone there?”
Her voice echoes, bounces back to her, growing louder and fiercer. It is mocking her. Is anyone, is anyone. Is anyone there?
No, the silence seems to say. There is no-one here but you.
“Please,” Rapunzel says.
Beneath her feet the colors bloom. Bright, burning blue. Polar white. Shining and gleaming like gems. Cold as ice and just as merciless.
In the distance, Rapunzel can hear screaming.
Her head snaps around, heart hammering in her chest.  She knows that voice. She knows it.
“NO!”
Rapunzel turns on her heels and runs blindly into the distant horizon.
She runs until her feet ache, until her breaths wheeze, until her hair pulls back on her scalp, as heavy as a ball-and-chain. She runs until that awful blue turns a blinding yellow, until those hauntingly familiar screams fall quiet.
The fog is lighter here, glowing a soft and unworldly gold. Like the sunrise, or the Corona lanterns, it leads her onwards now that the screams are silenced. Except no, Rapunzel realizes, as she reaches the source of that gentle light. Not gold after all. Amber.
A man encased in glowing amber, and a small form collapsed at his feet, shoulders bowed and shaking.
Rapunzel walks to the boy’s side, hesitates, leans down to touch his shoulder. “Varian,” she says. Her words are blank, calm, absent. Devoid of any feeling, wiped clean of any anger, any betrayal. As unbothered as the icy road she’d walked upon. In her chest, her heart twists.
Varian looks up at her touch, meets her gaze without flinching. His eyes are swollen and rimmed with red, tears running freely down his face. He does not seem to notice them, or perhaps it is that he doesn’t care. His face is calm. Just like Rapunzel, his eyes shine free of anger, of hatred, of pain: of anything.
The amber glow ignites the air around them. The fog shies away from the amber grave, from them. The stone path beneath their feet begins to crumble, turns to rubble, turns to ash. The dust flies up in the air like fireflies, a hurricane of ruin and smoke.
“It has to be me,” Varian says, and the world burns gold, as fierce and as blinding as the sun. “It has to be me.”
-
“This is madness, Rapunzel.”
Rapunzel takes a deep and calming breath, refusing to be swayed. At her side, her fists clench.
“It’s not madness,” Rapunzel repeats stubbornly, her voice tight with forced composure. She has been saying this for almost an hour now, a tiring back and forth that is wearing her down both mentally and physically. She has spent the whole morning agonizing over this choice, and her father is not making the decision any easier.
She wishes he hadn’t made it into this. A private conversation, at least, would grant her more leeway. But no: Rapunzel is standing before a court of law, her father settled high above her on his throne, the advisors around him. Rapunzel stands before and below them, feet aching from staying still for so long. She cannot imagine how the people dare to do this every day, stand in those lines and look up to the king to state their woes. Seated there above her, her father seems frightfully tall.
She wishes Eugene were here. Even if there is no way he can help—even though he himself had been against this—his mere presence would be comforting. But Eugene is not one for court, and though his humor is one of the things Rapunzel loves most about him, here it would hinder her argument. She needs them to take her seriously, and Eugene does not do ‘serious’ all that well.
She is not, however, here alone. In the shadows of a far-off corner, Cassandra stands tall and at the ready, her eyes flinty. For once Rapunzel is not sure this is a good thing.
In most cases. Rapunzel would be overjoyed at Cassandra’s presence. Some part of her, the part that is unaware of things like context, is still grateful. Unfortunately, in this instance, Cassandra is not on Rapunzel’s side, and unlike Eugene, she will not be swayed without an explanation. For Cassandra, it’s personal.
Varian had tried to kill her, after all.
“In what way is this not madness?” her father challenges, drawing Rapunzel’s eyes back to the stand. “Daughter, listen to yourself. You are proposing that we free the boy who attacked our kingdom and kidnapped your mother… for what?”
“For the betterment of the kingdom,” Rapunzel says, yet again. “Dad, I understand, really I do—but it makes sense. Varian is a genius. Admittedly a, um, misguided one, but…” Her father’s eyes narrow, and Rapunzel feels a sliver of panic strike her gut. She is losing him. “Dad, if we really want to understand this curse, I need his help! As much as I wish otherwise, I can’t do this alone.”
Her father doesn’t look convinced. “The boy is a criminal, Rapunzel.”
“That boy is also the best alchemist Corona has ever seen,” Rapunzel says, near pleading. “I can find where the rocks lead. I can see their end. But I can’t understand them. I’m not an alchemist, Dad. Varian is.”
“The only thing that boy is,” Nigel pipes up from the side, the advisor’s voice laden with disapproval, “is dangerous.”
Rapunzel grits her teeth. “I know that! I’m not saying he isn’t. But before two weeks ago, he was the only one to gain a reaction from the rocks!” She turns back to her father, resisting the urge to clasp her hands. This isn’t a plea—it’s a request. She is not a daughter asking a favor, but a citizen of Corona asking for help. “The only one, Dad.”
“With disastrous results, daughter!”
The reminder of Quirin and his amber crypt makes her flinch. For a moment the memory of her dream is so real it is almost tangible. The cold stone beneath her bare toes burns like ice.
But the reminder of her dreams—of what inspired this plan in the first place—steadies her. It has to be me. She has dreamed of those words one too many times. There is no way that it’s a coincidence.
Rapunzel ignored her dreams once before, and it nearly cost her everything. She won’t make the same mistake twice.
“But still a reaction,” Rapunzel implores, pushing past the guilt. “I don’t need his alchemy, just his knowledge about alchemy. Varian has as much reason as we do to want to understand the black rocks. I need his help, and he can’t help me while he’s in a cell.”
“He is dangerous,” her father repeats sternly. “I understand you wish to give him leniency, my dear, but to allow the boy to go free—!”
“He won’t be free,” Rapunzel says, though the words taste like ash in her mouth. She fights through it. Guilt can come later. She needs to convince her father now.“I’m not—I know, I know that what he’s done… it can’t be forgiven. I’m not asking you to let him go, Dad, I’m asking you to let me take him with us.”
“Even then, the risk of escape is too great.”
“It is though?” Rapunzel counters. “Eugene, Cassandra, and I—we are all decent fighters, Dad, you know this. Cassandra more so than us both. Varian—without his alchemy, Varian is just a kid.”
Her father taps his fingers against the arm of his throne, a heavy frown etched into his stern features. But for the first time since this conversation started, a line of tension in his brow has eased. “Rapunzel, I cannot allow you to take this risk.”
Rapunzel meets his gaze squarely. She is winning this verbal battle—she can tell. She has the advantage, and now she must do what her mother has taught her, and keep it. “No offense meant, your Majesty,” she says quietly, “but you aren’t at liberty to decide what risks I can or cannot take.”
It’s a low blow, but Rapunzel is tired of coddling her father. Her choices are hers, and though he says he knows this, it is time for him to prove it. She takes a deep breath and pushes onward. “My king,” she says, formal because she is serious and she wants her father to know this, “I need Varian’s help. Our kingdom needs his help. He may be dangerous, but we’ll take precautions, and he’ll be under the watch of the finest warrior we have. It’s a risk, yes. But if we don’t do this…” She lets her voice trail off, lets the silence linger, before she finishes. “Then we will be putting the welfare of Corona at risk, instead.”
Her father sags back against the throne, one hand rising to pinch his brow, expression tight with internal strife. When he finally speaks again, his voice is muffled.
“I hope this idea isn’t merely born from your guilt, daughter.”
“No,” Rapunzel says. “Not guilt. I just want to help our people—all of our people. I promise to be careful, but Dad—you said you trusted me to come back, when I go to follow the rocks. Please, trust this too! I can take care of myself. I promise.”
It’s the last words that get to him. Her father has learned how seriously Rapunzel considers her promises, even after Varian—or perhaps especially after Varian.
“Very well,” he says at last, reluctance in every word. “If you truly feel this strongly about it… I’ll trust you, my dear.”
Rapunzel bites back her smile and resists the urge to cheer. The court is no place to celebrate. She curtsies low, instead, head bowed to hide her glee at her victory. “Thank you, Dad.” She straightens up, and then she does smile, then, bright and firm. “I won’t let you down.”
Her father’s answering smile is a weak thing—but it is there. “Oh, Rapunzel. I have never any doubt about that. I only wish you to be safe.”
“And I will be safe, Dad.” Rapunzel meets his eyes. “I promise.”
He laughs at that, soft and sad. “Well, then. If you are certain.”
“I am,” Rapunzel says in reply. She bows one more time for good measure, and then strides confidently from the room. The court bursts into furious whispers behind her, but Rapunzel trusts her father to sway them to her side now that she has swayed him onto hers. She pushes open the doors without stopping, only waiting for Cassandra to exit. The moment her friend is through, she slams the door shut behind her with a loud sigh of relief, leaning back against the wood.
Moving to stand in front of her, Cassandra shuffles her feet, fabric shifting as she crosses her arms. For once, she doesn’t give Rapunzel time to catch her breath before interrogating her—though this time, Rapunzel can understand why.
“Are you sure about this?”
Rapunzel grimaces, shutting her aching eyes tight against her building headache. For a moment she considers giving Cassandra the same answer she gave her dad, but—this is Cassandra. Cass. She deserves the whole truth, not the false confidence Rapunzel has been projecting.
“Not really,” Rapunzel admits softly, near shamefully, and sags heavily against the door, leaning all her weight against it and just barely resisting the urge to sink to the floor. “I just… I know this doesn’t really make sense. And I know, you and Eugene…”
She sighs, unable to finish, her thoughts casting back to this morning. Eugene had protested her idea loudly and immediately, but Cassandra… Cassandra had just gone quiet.
Now, in the present, Cassandra pulls away, biting her lower lip and looking uncharacteristically uncertain. Her arms uncross, dangling loose by her sides, her defensive stance falling away. “Raps, it’s not… We just don’t want you…” She cuts herself off, making an angry noise in the back of her throat, before finally settling on, “I just don’t want you hurting yourself out of guilt, Raps.”
Her concern prompts a thin smile. “I know,” Rapunzel says, warmth in her heart. “And I really, really appreciate it. But Cass, it’s not… I’m not doing this because of guilt.”
Cassandra raises an eyebrow.
“Okay, so not completely because of guilt,” Rapunzel amends. “It’s just…” she trails off, glancing back to the door behind her, and pushes herself to her feet with a sigh. “Can we walk? I don’t want…” She gestures to the door, expression pleading.
Cassandra nods. “Okay. So long as I get answers.”
Rapunzel smiles at her. “You will. Thank you, Cass.”
“Yeah, yeah. Start walking, Raps.”
Rapunzel laughs softly, starting down the hall, Cassandra following close at her heels. The walk is calm and quiet, peaceful and comfortable, and as she wanders Rapunzel muses on her thoughts, pulls together words from otherwise vague feelings.
“I told my dad to go easy on Varian, that night,” she says, finally, when the words come. Cassandra eyes her, but says nothing, letting her finish. Rapunzel is pathetically grateful for it. “When they took him away. And… lately, I’ve been thinking… I’ve just, I’ve been running, Cass. Ever since the storm, I’ve been running from my problems, too scared to face them.”
At this, Cassandra’s face pinches. “What Varian did isn’t your fault, Raps. And it isn’t your problem.”
“No,” Rapunzel agrees. “But Varian— Varian is my problem. I can’t keep expecting others to deal with him just because I’m…” It feels shameful, almost, to admit this aloud. But this is Cass, her best friend, and if Rapunzel can’t say it to her she can’t say it to anyone. “…Because I’m too afraid to look him in the eye.”
Cassandra grimaces at this, her shoulders falling in defeat. A sad smile tugs at her lips. “And this has nothing to do with the fact your father is notoriously hard on criminals? Especially those that hurt his family?”
Rapunzel gives a wry smile in return, thinking sadly on Attila. That had been a near crisis, and the speed with which the situation had spiraled still haunts her at times. “Well,” she says. “There is that, too.”
Cassandra purses her lips. They walk on, quiet for a few more halls, before she sighs loudly and says, “Okay, Raps. What are you planning?”
Rapunzel splutters, hands flailing in the air in her haste to deny this. Of course Cassandra has noticed. Of course. Rapunzel is so bad at hiding things. “I’m not planning anything!”
Cassandra doesn’t seem even remotely convinced. “Yeah, right. Spill, Rapunzel.”
“…You have to promise to keep this a secret.”
Cassandra does not look impressed with this clause. “Oh, like how you kept the night of your coronation secret—”
“Cass. Please?”
The unusually solemn tone of Rapunzel’s voice makes Cassandra pause, and she grumbles quietly for a few moments before exhaling loudly. “…Oh, fine.”
“Thanks, Cass,” Rapunzel says, meaning it. She can’t quite muster a smile in return, though, not about this. “Okay, so… I’m going to visit Varian tonight.”
“What?!”
“Shh!”
Cassandralowers her voice to a hiss. “What? Raps, are you nuts?”
Rapunzel winces, drawing away from Cassandra’s ire. One hand rises up to tangle in her long hair. “I know, I know! I just… it doesn’t feel right, just dragging him after us. If he comes, I… I want him to make that choice, you know?”
Cassandra closes her eyes, one hand rising to pinch at her nose. “So, let me get this straight. You want us to sneak down into the dungeons—”
“Err, ah, I was thinking of going alone, actually.”
“—alone, wow, that makes me feel so much better. Okay. Whatever. You want to sneak in… and you want to talk with the homicidal teen who, may I remind you, hates your guts, and somehow convince him to travel with the people he dislikes most?”
“Well…” Rapunzel hedges, and waves her hand in the air back and forth like a seesaw. “…Yes?”
“Rapunzel.”
Ooh, the Voice of Doom. That doesn’t bode well. Rapunzel reaches out and grabs Cassandra’s hands, clasping them between hers and leaning closer. “Please, Cass,” she says, almost begging. “I know it doesn’t make sense, okay? I know. I… I can’t really explain it. I just, I have to do this.”
It has to be me. Even if it’s only a dream, Rapunzel thinks the words have some merit. If Varian comes with them on the journey, if he cooperates, if he helps them… if they are ever to make amends, it will have to be his choice.
Cassandra looks away from Rapunzel’s earnest stare, shoulders slumping. Her face is twisted with indecision. “I don’t like this.”
“I’m sorry.”
“But you’re still going to do this?”
She feels awful saying this, but… this is Cassandra. She’ll understand. “Yes.”
“Ugh,” Cassandra says, and then pulls her hands from Rapunzel’s grasp. “Okay. …okay. I’ll help.” She sighs, loud and heavy, her whole body sinking with the sound. “I just hope you know what you’re doing, Raps.”
Rapunzel manages a smile. “I do, too.” She leans forward on impulse, reaching out to wrap Cassandra in a bruising hug. “Thank you, Cass. I know this is hard for you, too.”
Cassandrahugs her back without hesitation. “Yeah, yeah,” she says, but there’s a smile in her voice. After a moment she pulls away and looks Rapunzel in the face, frowning slightly. “But Raps…You know Varian… you know he’ll be nasty. Right?”
“I know,” Rapunzel admits, shoulders slumping. “I’m ready for it. I’ve… I’ve been thinking about this for a while now.” She straightens, puts her hands on her hips, and beams. “I’ll be fine. I can take care of myself, Cass.”
“Tonight? Sure,” Cassandra says. “But… Raps, if he travels with us, he’ll be nothing but nasty. Are you sure you can handle that? He… I know, I know, this isn’t because of guilt but… he gets to you.” Cassandrabites her lip, hesitating briefly, then finally says, “He hurts you.”
Rapunzel looks away.
“You’re right,” she says softly, eyes on the floor, because it’s true what Cassandra says, all of it. Ever since the storm, thinking of Varian makes her sick to her stomach, dizzy with uncertainty and indecision. “But… Cass, if I don’t do this? If I just leave Varian here and go on ahead… sure, the journey will probably be a lot more pleasant. But—”
She stares at the tiled floors until her vision blurs, and then lifts her eyes to Cassandra’s face. She takes Cassandra’s hand from her shoulder and squeezes her gloved fingers tight. “But if I do leave Varian here, I'll regret it for the rest of my life. I have to do this.”
It has to be me.
“I won’t run away,” Rapunzel says, with finality. “Not anymore.”
-
It is late when Rapunzel walks down into the dungeon, the moon is still high and the sun nowhere in sight. The whole castle is still and quiet, the streets empty, the guards few and scattered, stuck to their usual shifts. It’s easy to take a dark cloak, slip it over her shoulders, and walk down to the dungeons. Easier still for Rapunzel, who still walks barefoot more often than not, and whose footsteps are quieter than anyone else’s. Too many years sneaking across the stone floor of a tower.
Cassandra slips her out from her room, but even without her help from there on, Rapunzel finds her way to the dungeons with little fanfare.
No one sees her enter, and no one stops her. The rustle of her cloak and the soft patter of her footsteps are too soft for the guards to hear, and after a year in this castle—a year with Cassandra, especially—Rapunzel knows the guard shifts well enough to steer clear from their path with ease.
Sometimes she wonders if that was Cassandra’s intention all along.
Either way, it serves her well now. Not even the prisoners stir when Rapunzel slips through their halls, and the guards in front of the door are easily distracted. All it takes is a rock thrown down the hall and into a cell, and the commotion draws them away like moths to a flame, just as Eugene taught her. Pascal jumps from her shoulder to follow after them, just as planned—he’ll serve as the distraction, create more mischief, give Rapunzel more time.
Rapunzel knows too many tricks and turns, courtesy of her friends. No one would ever expect it of a princess, but then, in Rapunzel’s defense, she has only been a princess for little more than a year now. Besides, it’s useful.
She slips through the door of the solitary cell, closing it soundlessly behind her. Even with the guards distracted, she doesn’t want to risk being overheard. This has a high chance of going very, very badly.
The thought makes her stomach churn; her hands tremble. For a moment she wants to leave this cell behind and never look back, leave the issue of Varian in the capable hands of her father and mother and the courts.
But… no, she can’t. She has broken this promise too many times. Staying away and worrying instead of confronting her fears… that is what led to this whole mess in the first place.
Her hands still. Rapunzel takes a deep breath, and turns to the cell behind her.
He’s already awake. Watching her quietly through the bars, blue eyes cold from beneath his fringe. Silent and wide-eyed and staring.
She stares right back, refusing to cower. Her eyes search his frame, noting the missing apron, his shirt hanging off one bony shoulder and the blue cloth grayed from dust. He’s sitting cross-legged against the back wall, hands clutching a sleeping Rudiger close to his chest. His shoulders are bowed, his head lowered, but his eyes glare up at her, gleaming in the thin moonlight from the lone window. There is no give in his expression. There is nothing in his face at all.
She should be angry, Rapunzel knows; she came prepared to be angry. But looking at him, she can’t find the strength. The sting of betrayal has dulled, now, turned dusty and bitter but bearable. It is hard to be angry when he looks like this—defiant, quiet, and—
Tired.
Yes, that’s the word. He looks tired. Stick thin and raggedy, his hair a tangled mess and growing out of its usual cut. His skin seems paler, his limbs thinner. It’s only been two weeks since they put him in here, but he looks like he hasn’t slept a wink since it happened—his eyes half-lidded and lined with exhaustion, shadowed by dark circles, like a thumbprint-sized bruise in the corner of his eyes.
Rapunzel searches his face, wondering. Once, she had been friends with this boy. Once he had smiled. Once he had seemed so much… lighter.
Once, once, once. What good is there in holding on to past neither of them can go back to?
She settles in front of him, just before the bars, in the same cross-legged position, sitting equal to him. Where his back is bent hers is unbowed, where his hands clutch hidden in Rudiger’s fur, hers rest in plain view on her knees. They are imperfect reflections, imperfect mirrors.
“Hello, Varian,” Rapunzel says.
Something scornful tugs at his upper lip, creases his shadowed eyes. “Princess,” he says in return, and it is almost a curse. His voice is raspy and thin, hoarse from disuse. In the quiet it cracks like a whip.
Like always, guilt is a familiar tug at the pit of her stomach. It always is, when talking with Varian. The urge to fidget overcomes her, but Rapunzel pushes it down, keeps her hands still and poised, and her gaze steady.
“How are you?” she asks, though she doesn’t expect him to answer. She asks regardless, because if she doesn’t she thinks she will regret it.
Varian’s teeth grit and his lips pull back in a sneer. He doesn’t answer, and that is answer enough.
Rapunzel searches his face. “You haven’t been sleeping,” she observes lightly, and at the hollowness in his cheeks a thought strikes her and she frowns. “And you’re all skin and bones. Have the guards been feeding you?”
He scoffs, light and derisive, the sneer falling from his face as he shakes his head. His long hair hangs like a ragged shroud over his angry eyes. “Princess,” he says, and he must mean to make the words heated, but all he sounds is exhausted. “Why are you here?”
Her lips press in a thin line, but after a moment she lets the matter go. If the guards do have prejudice against Varian, she can find out in other ways. Besides, if he agrees, it is not their disapproval that Varian will have to worry about.
“I’m leaving,” Rapunzel tells him, abandoning the pretense of small talk. “In three days’ time, Cass, Eugene, and I will leave Corona to follow the black rocks. I don’t know how long we’ll be gone, or how far they go. I could be gone weeks. Or months.”
“Leaving,” Varian repeats, toneless. Something dark and furious flashes over his face, deep and ugly and full of hatred. An emotion so bitter it almost hurts to see it. “I see. Do you expect me to care, Princess? It’s not as if this has anything to do with me.”
Rapunzel files the ugly look away for later consideration, but refuses to be swayed by it, or his words. She knew Varian would be nasty. She is prepared for it, now.
Where Varian is spiteful, Rapunzel remains calm. “In three days’ time, I am leaving,” Rapunzel repeats. Waits, but this time Varian says nothing, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. She takes a deep breath. Time for the moment of truth. “When I go,” she continues, “I would like you to come with me.”
The hostility drops from Varian’s face. His eyes go wide, surprise loosening his shoulders and startling him upright, mouth falling open, hands resting slack on Rudiger’s fur. “What?” he says, sounding stunned. Then he seems to catch himself, and he draws back into a hostile little ball, eyes narrowing. “What?”
Rapunzel remains impassive. “I want you to come with me, when I go after the rocks. It’s—it’s not freedom. Not entirely. But Varian, it’ll be better than this cell.”
Varian does not look sold on the idea. “Why?” he demands. “I don’t understand. What are you—”
“Varian,” Rapunzel interrupts, tired of his distrust, “I’m not an alchemist.”
Varian falls silent.
“It’s true that… that this journey is mostly about the welfare of Corona. The black rocks haven’t vanished. But I… if possible, if there is a way to free Quirin, free your father, I am looking for that too. But it was alchemy that trapped Quirin, and if it is alchemy, again, that’s needed to free him…” she trails off. “Only you, Varian. Only you can do that.”
It’s a logical reason. Best of all, it’s a reason that Varian cannot contest. But that is not Rapunzel’s only motive for coming here, for speaking with Varian, for offering this deal.
That night, as the rocks glowed blue as the sky and the automatons fell heavy to the earth, speared through at a mere twist of her will, Rapunzel had looked Varian full in the face. She had met his eyes as the last damning spike speared through his machine, and she had seen the agony in his expression and heard the despair in his voice as he screamed. Not angry, then. Not really. Just grieving.
Months ago, when Varian came to her for help, she turned him away. He left, and she let him leave, and even when the snowstorm faded, guilt over her actions and worry as to what she might find if she looked for him kept her away. She had prioritized herself, she had forgotten him, and the result had been catastrophic.
She is not to blame for Varian, not entirely—he was right to be angry with her, but he was not right to do what he did. Rapunzel knows that. But as the guards led Varian away, and as her father promised to go easy on him, Rapunzel had been struck with a sense of foreboding.
She forgot Varian once, and nearly lost everyone she loved as a result. She had, in fact, lost a friend. Leaving him behind once again, leaving the problem of Varian in the hands of her parents, simply because Varian makes Rapunzel uncomfortable is… it isn’t right. She isn’t sure what it is, but it isn’t right.
Her dreams, strange and troubled, have only served to further that notion.
So this—this deal, this last chance—this is Rapunzel’s solution. She needs to follow the black rocks, needs to stop running from her destiny. But just because she must move forward doesn’t mean she has to leave Varian behind. In a way, this is Rapunzel’s penance. Even if he scorns her offer, even if he spits in her face, at the very least she had the courage to try.
Rapunzel is not at fault for Varian. But she knows that she is not entirely free of blame, either. She is learning to live with that.
“You don’t have to come,” Rapunzel says, when Varian doesn’t reply. “Ultimately, the choice is yours. I won’t force you to go. But… it’s an option.”
At last, life flickers back to Varian’s eyes. “No,” he snaps coldly, and his voice rises in both pitch and fury, shaking with barely restrained emotion. “No, no! I don’t need your help or your pity! I can free my father on my own. I’ll make him proud, and I won’t need your help to do it, ‘Princess.’Get out. I won’t go.”
Rapunzel looks him the eyes, unfaltering in her resolve. If it was just a refusal, she’d leave without question, but—his logic is flawed, blinded by denial, and she could leave it here, she knows, but—she won’t. Not about this. “Varian,” she says, bracing herself. “You can’t.”
He bares his teeth at her, eyes wide and angry. “I can’t what?”
“Do this on your own anymore,” Rapunzel says, simply. When his shoulders draw back and that awful anger reemerges, she pushes on, unrelenting. “Varian, look around you. You’re in a cell. You’re a criminal! My hair didn’t work, the flower didn’t work, none of your machines worked—this, where the rocks are leading, this is the last chance! And you’ll get nowhere so long as you’re stuck in here.”
He flies to his feet, shaking head to toe. Rudiger, awake now, scrambles from his lap to his shoulders, pawing anxiously at the boy’s face. His comfort goes unnoticed. Varian is trembling, hands curled into angry fists, every part of him drawn tight and furious, as if bracing for a blow. His shriek is near breathless with rage. “You don’t know that!”
Rapunzel refuses to match his anger. She holds onto her composure and calm with grit-tooth determination. No matter how angry Varian becomes, no matter what he says to her, Rapunzel refuses to rise up to the bait. “Okay. Then what are you going to do?”
“I can escape—”
“With what?” she asks. His apron, his tools, even his gloves—all gone. His empty hands clutch at his sides.
“I, I can talk with other prisoners or—”
“No one else is near your cell.”
His voice is rising. “I’ll hold you hostage, then!”
“I nearly won the competition for the strongest warrior in all Seven Kingdoms, Varian,” Rapunzel says, a plea in her voice. It hurts to see this, but it would be worse to leave him in denial. “Do you really think you can?”
“I—” Varian says, “I—I can— I can—!”
He stops, breath stilling and eyes going wide, his voice caught on the words he cannot finish. His chest heaves as though he has just run a marathon. All and any color has drained from his face, his eyes hollow, lips pale and bloodless.
“You can go with me,” Rapunzel says, her gentle voice shattering the sudden silence, “and discover the secrets of the rocks firsthand.
Varian’s voice breaks into what sounds suspiciously close to a sob. His hands fly up to cover his face, and he rocks back hard on his heels, bowing into himself. Guilt strikes deep at Rapunzel’s gut, but then, she is growing used to guilt, where Varian is concerned. She doesn’t react. He needs to understand this. He has to. There is no kindness in letting him delude himself to the truth, not now.
People put so much faith in lies, in denial, in hiding harsh truths. Rapunzel grew up in lies, her whole life drenched in them. She has no more patience for it. No mercy for it. Lies are rarely ever for the benefit of the person being lied to. If nothing else, Mother Gothel taught her that much.
“Varian,” Rapunzel says, “This is—these are your options. You can go with me, still a prisoner, and have a chance at saving Quirin. Or you can stay here, and… and take whatever comes.”
Varian’s hands stay pressed against his eyes, and he curls into himself, bent nearly double, a moment away from collapse. He doesn’t answer. On his shoulders, Rudiger chitters and paws at his face, crooning softly.
After a moment Varian sucks in a shuddering breath, hands finally dropping from his face. He pulls himself straight as if there is a string at the base of his spine, forcing him to stand tall. His hands are trembling faintly. His eyes are red-rimmed and watery in the dull light, but his cheeks are dry, and the sheer force of hatred in his expression stuns her.
“Tell me, Princess.” To his credit, Varian’s voice is only the slightest bit strangled. “How long did it take for the king to agree to this?” Something bitter tugs at his mouth. “Or—oh, your mother?”
Rapunzel winces. “Nearly an hour,” she admits. Adds, before he can reply, “But it doesn’t matter what they think.”
Shame curls like a vice around her throat at the words, but she doesn’t take them back, and when Varian’s head lifts in surprise she gives him a wan smile. “I want this to be your choice, and your choice alone. If you decide to go, then you’ll go. If you decide otherwise… then I’ll just tell them I changed my mind. Simple.”
He bares his teeth at her in a facsimile of a grin. “And if they change their minds?”
Rapunzel smiles, giving nothing away. “Varian,” she says. “If you decide to go, you’ll go. Trust me.”
This doesn’t seem to bring him comfort. His lip curls in distaste, and he shakes his head like she’s disappointed him. “Oh,” he says. “Is this another one of your promises?”
Rapunzel closes her eyes, hiding her flinch. “No.” She’s learned that lesson, too. Her eyes open again, slow and careful, lost in thought. “Think of it more like… a guarantee.”
Varian’s eyes search her face, and then drop, contemplative, to the floor. His hands fall to his sides. His shoulders slump. He looks, for one moment, so very young.
“I don’t trust you, Rapunzel,” he says, and even though his voice is dull, the venom is as sharp as ever. His eyes rise slowly, meeting her own unfaltering gaze. His smile is a small, bitter and hateful thing. “But I don’t really have a choice, do I?”
Rapunzel doesn’t reply, just watches him. After a moment, Varian’s piercing stare wanders away again. His legs fold, collapse beneath him, returning him to the original cross-legged position. Equals, once more.
“I need to think,” he says, tone brooking no argument. “I don’t have your answer yet, ‘Princess.’”
Rapunzel nods, so relieved to hear this she feels nearly lightheaded. “That’s fair. I did spring this on you rather unexpectedly.” She stands, gathering the dark cloak around her shoulders and brushing the dust from her clothes, Varian watching her warily from the corner of his eye. “We’re heading out sometime in the next few days. That’s all the time I can give you.”
She makes to leave, but at the last second, pauses at the door and turns back to look at him. “Varian,” she says. “Please tell me. Are the guards giving you enough food?”
Still sitting in the cell, Varian scoffs, sagging back against the wall. “Why’s it matter?” he asks, the sneer apparent in his voice. “Whether they do or don’t, I wouldn’t eat it anyways.” He laughs, sharp and bitter. “I’m not an idiot—I know some of them probably want revenge. As if I would trust your food, ‘Princess.’”
Ah. The laced cookies. She remembers.
Rapunzel looks at him for a long moment. “Surprisingly enough, Varian,” she says at last, soft, mild, calm— “Not everyone is like you.”
His eyes go wide and startled, and then something unnamable passes over his face, but before he can respond Rapunzel has already turned away. “I’ll send more food up, for you and Rudiger both,” she tells the prison door. “It’ll be safe. If you want confirmation I’ll make it myself, or someone can try it before you do, to be sure.” She waits. Whatever it is he wished to say before, now Varian is quiet.
“Goodbye, Varian,” Rapunzel says. “I’ll be back. I hope you find your answer soon.”
She slips out the door and into the hall, down the path and through the gates, Pascal dropping from above into her cloak—leaving as quietly as she entered, as swift and unseen as a ghost.
-
Long after Rapunzel has left, Varian is still wide awake.
He’ll pay for this insomnia later, he knows; years of working on projects has left him with plenty of experience with what happens when Varian tries to function on too little sleep. Rambling, mistakes, fainting. Broken beakers and hour-long lectures.
Well. No lectures, now. Not anymore.
His feet are wearing grooves in the floor by now, and Rudiger has abandoned him to sleep on Varian’s untouched prison cot. He feels a bit guilty about that—Rudiger deserves a restful sleep. It is not easy for animals to stay locked up in small rooms, let alone a prison cell. The fact Rudiger has remained with him is… it is something Varian doesn’t really know what to do with. Doesn’t really understand. He knows, if nothing else, that he doesn’t deserve it.
Yet, here Rudiger is.
As they have for the past few hours, Varian’s thoughts once again stray back to Rapunzel, and her offer. If he took it, would Rudiger come with him? See the open air and run more freely, only Varian in chains?
He scowls at the ground and turns sharply on his heel before he can hit the wall. Eight steps across, twelve vertical, thirty blocks high. His cell is small and cluttered, just barely enough for one person and even then, it’s enough to make Varian near claustrophobic. He can’t imagine staying here for the rest of his life. The very idea makes him feel ill.
What are you going to do, Varian?
Damn Rapunzel anyway. What does she know? Varian—he can do plenty. Even if he’s in this cell now, there’s no reason for him to be here forever. And… maybe he can escape, one day, escape and find a way to—
Find a way to…
Damn her.
That’s the worst part about Rapunzel’s offer, Varian thinks, only a little bitter. It’s that she is right.
He has no idea how to escape. No idea where to start once escaping, either: the flower and Rapunzel’s magic hair didn’t work, none of his alchemy did anything but make the problem worse, and Varian…
He’s trying. He’s trying and trying and trying, but he can’t—he can’t think of anything. Not a single thing. What next, he keeps asking himself, what next, but the answer is blank. For the first time, there’s no solution. No possibilities. Just… questions without answers, and no way to solve them.
This alone is what kept him from spitting back the offer in Rapunzel’s face, no matter how much he’d wanted to. If Varian is to have any chance of freeing his father… it won’t be in this cell.
He has to get out. But he has no fellow prisoners to manipulate, no weapons to use, no inside knowledge. No friends to rely on. Just himself, and Rudiger, and this cell specifically chosen to keep him contained. Smaller bars, smaller windows, slim chance of getting himself orRudiger through. No way out.
In a way, Rapunzel’s offer is a dream come true. It is also an opportunity. In any other circumstance, the information she’d offered and the journey itself all lend chances for an escape.
He’d call her naive, except that for once, Rapunzel has caught him in a trap. He could escape easily, if he put his mind to it—outside of this cell, there is plenty to fight with. But the secret of the black rocks… the mystery calls to him like a siren song. Once last chance.Once last hope. One final attempt to save his father.
No matter what. Varian had sworn. I’ll make you proud, no matter what becomes of me. Even if meant making an enemy of the king. Or betraying Corona. Or kidnapping the Queen.
Even if it now means playing nice with the people who betrayed him.
Eight steps across, twelve vertical, thirty blocks high. 480 and 720 steps in an hour. No chalk, no rocks—nothing to write with and nothing to do. In this cell, Varian is useless.
Restless, Varian marches to the window and tugs futilely at the window bars. The night wind drifts over his uncovered hands, making his hair stand on end and his skin crawl. The metal bars are so cold they burn against his bare palm. He grits his teeth and holds on until Rudiger chitters in worry at his feet.
“I don’t want to,” Varian whispers down to him. The one weakness he’ll allow himself. “I don’t want to.”
Rudiger croons up at him and tugs at his pant leg. No judgment in those blank eyes. Varian has used Rudiger, manipulated him for his own gain, and while at the time it made perfect sense, now the thought makes him feel sick to his stomach. The raccoon is the one creature left that hasn’t turned on Varian, even though Varian has given the animal every reason to. These past two weeks had been hell, but he knows they would have been so much worse without Rudiger by his side.
Varian sinks to his knees, finally releasing the window bars. His skin crawls from the memory of the cold. The stone floor presses hard and unyielding against his knees. Varian reaches out and pulls Rudiger to him, digging his fingers into the raccoon’s soft pelt to comb out the tangles with his nails. After a moment he gives in and buries his face into Rudiger’s fur instead, hiding shameful tears from view.
Rudiger croons, and a cold nose presses against Varian’s ear. He laughs, the sound wet and broken, and pulls back to shake his head, wiping away the tears in his eyes with the back of his hand.
“One last chance,” Varian murmurs. His eyes go distant. “I won’t let you down, Dad.”
His fingers tighten in Rudiger’s pelt. The raccoon chitters and paws at Varian’s leg, worry and uncertainty in those wide dark eyes—but this time, no matter how hard Rudiger tries, Varian does not respond.
-
Two days later, Rapunzel returns. This time, she doesn’t come alone—Pascal resting regally on her shoulder, and two familiar-looking guards flanking her sides.
In the daylight, Varian can see her more clearly now. Her expression is defiant and bold, her usual purple dress replaced with a dark royal purple tunic and riding pants. Still no shoes. A frying pan is cinched to her waist and her hair is tied back in a secure bun, the remaining loose strands gathered together to create a secure braid, far stronger than her usual lax tie.
Two weeks is not that long a time. But the outfit change, and the new hairstyle, and the look on her face as she watches him through the bars… she seems different, somehow changed from that battle in Old Corona. More resolute. Stronger.
For some reason, this thought makes his skin crawl. Spite prompts Varian to refuse to look away from that annoyingly knowing gaze, sneering at her until her eyes drop away. He hates the way she looks at him, as if she’s trying to figure him out. It pisses him off. It’s not like Varian’s motives are confusing.
“Varian,” Rapunzel says, in lieu of a greeting. “Have you decided?”
He waits, letting the silence stretch, watching. The guards fidget, their eyes darting to and fro. Rapunzel doesn’t flinch.
“Yes,” he says, finally, when the silence has lasted long enough to become uncomfortable. He takes pleasure in watching the guards shift with unease, even if Rapunzel herself doesn’t react, the spoilsport. “I’ll go.”
Rapunzel closes her eyes and dips her head in a nod, her exhale a slow and shuddering sigh. “Okay,” she says. She takes a deep breath and straightens, shoulders pushed back, her lapse of composure vanished as if it had never happened. “Pete, Stan, if you would?”
Varian feels his stomach drop, and in his lap, Rudiger squeaks in worry at the sudden stiff hold Varian has on his fur. “Wait—we’re, we’re going now?”
Rapunzel looks at him. “Yes,” she says, cautiously. “We’re leaving in another half-hour. I gave you as much time as I could.”
She doesn’t ask if it’s okay with him, or if he’s prepared to leave. Varian grits his teeth. “Fine,” he bites out, and stands, brushing the dirt off his clothes. When the guards enter his cell, it takes effort not to flinch, and he manages to keep his sneer in place even as they loom over him, the heavy chains clinking in their hands.
The chains pinch his thin wrists, heavy and thick, with only a small bit of chain between them to allow for minimal movement of his hands, enough to allow him to exercise but not enough to give him total free range. A longer chain, like the lead of a horse, is connected to it. At his feet similar chains are clasped around his bare ankles, only instead of a lead, he gets an iron ball on a long tether tied to his right foot.
It’s excessive to the point of being ridiculous. Varian doesn’t know whether to be offended or pleased that they consider him this much of a threat.
It takes him a bit to pick up the iron ball, fingers scrabbling for purchase on the smooth surface and movement hindered by the new restraints on his wrists, but the guards wait patiently for him to get a grasp on it before they gently push him from the cell. Varian nearly stumbles regardless, just barely catching himself before he can trip on his new shackles.
On the floor, thus far darting between the legs of all these new visitors, Rudiger scolds them from below, jumping up and scrambling for his usual place on Varian’s shoulders. His cold nose digs into Varian’s neck, tiny claws pricking at his collarbone. It’s as if Rudiger is saying, Here I am, and Varian relaxes slightly in response.
One of the guards startles at Rudiger’s motion, reaching out, but Rapunzel intercepts the guard before Varian can think to panic. “No,” she says. “Don’t worry. Rudiger can stay.” She turns to meet Varian’s eyes. Varian stares back, jaw clenched. He refuses to thank her, but he can’t deny his relief.
Rapunzel purses her lips, and then her shoulders drop. “The restraints are just for until we reach the border wall, and then only at nights, except for the ball-and-chain on your leg. I’m sorry, but that one is for the whole journey. This was non-negotiable.” Her lips twist, just faintly, and Varian has a sudden notion on whose idea this was. Apparently, the king holds one hell of a grudge. It almost makes him want to laugh.
“It doesn’t matter,” he tells her. “I don’t care either way.”
Rapunzel sighs. “If you say so.” She picks the lead chain connected to his handcuff and waves the guards away when they reach to help. “No, it’s fine. I’ll take him. Thank you for escorting me.” She smiles as they walk away, then drops the chain like it’s made of molten lava and takes Varian’s elbow instead. When he tries to wrench away, she holds fast.
“Don’t,” she says firmly, but there’s something tired in her voice. “I know you hate me, Varian, okay? Just… please. Wait until we’re outside the capital city?”
He glares at her, but this time when she pulls him forward, he doesn’t fight. Just stares at the ground and counts the stones as they wander through the dark halls of the prison. Their footsteps echo off the walls, their wheezing breaths frightfully loud in the morning calm.
Above them, the world moves on. The sun is shining, the city slowly waking. Cassandra and Eugene and the kingdom all going about their lives without a clue of what is to come. Farther on, Old Corona lies undisturbed without her lone inhabitant, and his father sleeps in the unbreakable crystal. And beyond them—beyond the wall, beyond the Kingdom of Corona, beyond it all—a path of black stone, heading out into the horizon.
One last chance.
Varian won’t fail again.
174 notes · View notes
episode-by-episode · 7 years
Text
So You Think You Can Dance Season 14 Ep 8
First off, the set up this year was very interesting. I don't mind it at all. However I'm wondering if many great dancers got lost because of it. Now on to the top 10! Fik-shun and Dassy; I was hoping that Fik-shun would choose Dassy as his partner! She is such a cutie and clearly a hard worker who pushes for what she wants seeing as she moved from South Korea for this. Their dance was super groovy and a nice way to start off the show Allison and Logan; I liked Logan since his audition. He was one of the ones that caught my eyes and kept it through out academy week. It was Unfortunate that he couldn't dance with Allison this week but all things considered it wasn't a bad dance Jenna and Kiki; I had a feeling that Jenna would choose Kiki. They really seem to make a great partnership however after seeing everyone else I'm actually a little underwelmed with these two! Jenna is of course a bombshell and a firecracker of a dancer and Kiki (let's be honest here) is a hottie but they didn't bring it for me this week Also wasn't feeling Jenna's costume Cyrus and Kaylee; Listen. Kaylee has been a fav of mine since her audition. There is just something about her! However like Vanessa said with this dance she needed more air and lightness to her movement. BUT her emotion and passion behind her movement is unbelievable so I can't wait to see more from her Gaby and Lex; everyone needs to stop hating on Lex about his personality! Like dammn I love Lex. And if he is introverted or whatever I believe that you can be an incredible dancer without being over the top in personality. Like Mary said we've had winners who didn't have the biggest personality so go on with your bad self Lex. Keep slaying. Comfort and Mark; I don't have much to say about this couple. But I really do think they are right up there for making it far in the competition. Mark is crazy haha but I think it's fitting with Comfort. Together they are kind of a power couple Marko and Koine; omg these two!! I'm glad Marko chose her as his partner but I must admit out of everyone this was a really REALLY hard decision! Anyway it killed me that Nigel was saying Marko should marry her haha! But low-key i ship it haha. I hope these two go far, it'll be interesting to see what they do next Paul and Sydney; Woahhh now here is a couple I wasn't expecting that kind of just knocked me in the head. Like Nigel was saying Sydney really flew under the radar! But I am completely blown away by her. I don't know who said this but yes her legs are long as hell and she looked fabulous this week! On top of all this great dancing and people coming out from under the radar, Val (I can't spell his last name) choreographed this routine! This is soooo ironic guys cause literally while they were dancing I was like Normani should be on SYTYCD and I legit think it's because I saw Sydney do a kick that reminded me of Normani which makes sense cause Val choreographed their routines on dancing with the Stars! Anyway welcome Val! And great job to this couple ! Robert and Taylor; freaking Travis wall. Like!?.. woah Taylor and Robert danced amazingly! Honestly so so good I just.. wow. While watching part of me was like "well they got a Travis wall routine so they were set for this week" but then I remembered- the dancers have to bring the choreo to life and omg did the ever! These two have great chemistry together and if there's one thing this dance let us know is that they have an incredible partnership. I mean some of the things they did in that dance..! They needed so much trust. So yeah these two are awesome Jasmine and Robert; I almost didn't think Jasmine would take Robert with her! I'm happy she did he is such a unique dancer! I was worried that what everyone liked about him, his uniqueness and almost weird way of doing his movements and his almost feminine dancing would now start to work against him but thankfully the judges loved him and actually said they like the way he moves so yaay! On the other hand I do worry that when it comes to true partnering where Robert will have to lift Jasmine and so on that he will fall short. Because Jasmine is a tall strong woman and Robert isn't the biggest or strongest man ya know? Or I'm I being crazy? Overall I think Robert and Taylor and Paul and Sydney had the best dances of the night. And finally can we talk about Vanessa Hudgens as a judge? Y'all I was so underwelmed when I found out she was judging. Even through the auditions I wasn't sold on her but after this week I know there's nothing to worry about. She's actually really good! Anyhooo until next week friends!
1 note · View note
republicstandard · 6 years
Text
Democracy: The Disease That Won’t Die
Democracy is the status quo of the west, an indispensable part of modern western society. Both the left and the right-wings of the US and the European Union nation-states talk about how great democracy is. It is one of the few things that politicians like Nigel Farage and Jeremy Corbyn are in agreement on, at least in public. Yet, considering the travails of modernity, is democracy still functional as an ideology? Or, as I contend, is democracy a deceptive ideology with manifest shortcomings for the very people the system claims to empower?
(function(w,d,s,i){w.ldAdInit=w.ldAdInit||[];w.ldAdInit.push({slot:10817585113717094,size:[0, 0],id:"ld-7788-6480"});if(!d.getElementById(i)){var j=d.createElement(s),p=d.getElementsByTagName(s)[0];j.async=true;j.src="//cdn2.lockerdomecdn.com/_js/ajs.js";j.id=i;p.parentNode.insertBefore(j,p);}})(window,document,"script","ld-ajs");
What is democracy?
Before we go on further, let us establish what we are talking about when we say “Democracy”, as there might be some confusion. European nations and the USA are all under varying forms of a Democratic-Republican system; a system where the voters can elect a leader (president or prime minister) and representatives in congress or parliament. Democracy became ascendant post-French Revolution, yet not until the aftermath of World War II did Democracy coagulate into its contemporary, God-like position.
The Origins of Athenian Democracy: How and Why it Failed
It is universally known that Democracy began in Greece, in Athens. Democracy has her foundations in Solon’s reforms, and the legendary democratic duo Cleisthenes and Pericles who came into the Athenian political scene some 50 years after the death of Solon. Pericles and Cleisthenes are what we would describe today as “Reformists” and “Populists”, introducing as they did tremendous reforms, political and military. They also had an anti-oligarchic rhetoric which solidified their support amongst the Greek populace. Their reforms helped Athens enter a Golden Age of art and literature. Other Greek city-states took notice of the success of Athenian Democracy and began to implement democracy in their own societies. It all sounds great so far, right? Unfortunately, widespread knowledge of Greek history and experiments with democracy is uncommon; to the detriment of modern times.
In Athenian Democracy, only adult male citizens that completed military training were able to vote at all. This meant that the Athenian Electorate was only 10-20 percent of the total population. Unlike the modern American democrats, Athenian democrats were in favor of giving citizenship only to those whom were of Athenian descent. This was introduced by none other than the legendary democrat Pericles, and the military general Cimon. Aristotle himself argued why this was the case.
Because of instability within the city-states -as Aristotle, Plato and other Greek philosophers note- and because of the military misadventures that Democratic city-states suffered, Athenian democracy failed. The Peloponnesian War in 431 BC ended in an embarrassing Athenian defeat at the hands of Sparta and her allies. The unification of Greece which was a process started by King Philip II of Macedon and completed by his son Alexander III of Macedon, also known as Alexander the Great established Macedonian hegemony over all Greece, save for Sparta. Athenian dominance had come to an end.
Aristotle and Plato both praise the political stability within the Spartan Diarchy whilst criticizing democracy, stating that the collective doesn’t necessarily make the right decisions, even going as far as to saying that democracy is no different than an ill-informed Tyranny. Thucydides gives two examples of this; the execution of Socrates, and the the illegal execution of six Athenian generals- which the people then came to regret. Some would argue that the Sicilian expedition was a failed product of Democracy; a farce which cost the lives of more than 12000 Delian League soldiers in battle against only around 2200 Spartans and Syracusans. Democratic Athens also perpetrated horrendous acts -which ironically the modern Democratic nation states sometimes emulate- such as executing every single man in Melos for not wanting to be a subject of Athenians. This looks eerily familiar to the US Militia voting to kill Indians in Gnadenhutten and widespread popularity of slavery to name two examples of US and Athenian concordance.
After losing to Autocratic Sparta and its allies, Athens and its other democratic city-state buddies falls under the hegemony of the Macedons, whom were one of the few Monarchist (if not the only) people in Greece at that time-period. This showcases the difference between Autocratic (Monarchist) rule and Democratic rule. The swift and smart decision-making of the Macedons, coupled with loyalty from their people, as opposed to ill-informed decision-making in Athens. Philip Argead succeeded in uniting Greece despite the constant pressure both from the other Greeks, and from foreigners (Illyrians in the west and Thracians in the east). After Philip Argead, Democracy in Greece was reduced to a local irrelevancy. After the Roman conquest of Greece, Democracy was only existent within local administrative levels.
Democracy Today
World War I and World War II have both been putative victories for Democracy, which helped shape the new status quo of Europe. Ever since then, particularly after the Cold war, Democracy in the west has been getting stronger and stronger in hold, if not effect.
These “peaceful” and “prosperous” times are now falsely attributed to the power of Democracy. This is a false cause fallacy, correlation does not equal causation. It is argued that the prosperous times that Europe faced was due to technological advancements (spurred by Capitalism and the Third Reich), and the Industrial Revolution and its aftermath. The Industrial Revolution eventually increased life expectancy (which is one of the most important measures used to determine whether a nation is prosperous or not) over time.
Democracy, as advertised, is a system that gives power to the people by allowing them to elect their leader and their representatives. Let us disregard empty sentences with no meaning such as “empowering the citizens” or “power to the people” because they were connotated with Democracy purely for propaganda; and are in fact straight out of Pericles’ playbook. One big flaw with Democracy and giving “power to the people” is that you are basing your decision-making system on a fallacy (Ad Populum). Because majority of the population wants something or someone, does not mean that it is the right decision. One could argue that we need to look at Condorcet’s Jury Theorem and try to aim on educating the populace on making good decisions. That is also a very naïve point of view, even if every single person in a nation was educated, you still have one massive obstacle which is the self-interest of groups and persons. Condorcet’s Jury Theorem assumes that people want the best for the group that they are participating in. That would only be close to true if that group had brotherly love -Philia as Aristotle describes it- within that group, one look at the western democratic nations would show us that brotherly love does not exist in those countries in any broad sense.
Democracy inevitably creates another political class; the media. For many citizens, media has become the silk road of information; various interest groups have tried to take advantage of controlling that silk road, and some even claim that they have achieved such a feat. Nevertheless, this would explain the newfound phenomenon of “Fake news” being so prevalent in media today. Despite the fact that trust in the American media is at an all-time low, the power that mass media has is stronger than ever. Even if the people reject the lies of the media, it still holds sway over the people.
During election seasons, especially in the US, candidates shifting policies and tones have become a very common occurrence; the triangulation tactic of Bill Clinton demonstrably works. This is quite disgusting when you think about it. We are tolerating the manipulative methods that politicians use to get more voters so they can be elected. Under such an environment, it is impossible for an honest politician to fight for what is right as in a Republican Democratic system, he will be swimming with the sharks as the lone fish.
(function(w,d,s,i){w.ldAdInit=w.ldAdInit||[];w.ldAdInit.push({slot:10817587730962790,size:[0, 0],id:"ld-5979-7226"});if(!d.getElementById(i)){var j=d.createElement(s),p=d.getElementsByTagName(s)[0];j.async=true;j.src="//cdn2.lockerdomecdn.com/_js/ajs.js";j.id=i;p.parentNode.insertBefore(j,p);}})(window,document,"script","ld-ajs");
Legal Bribery is also rampant under a Democratic system. As I have previously written, one popular promise from politicians is to protect/increase welfare and social security spending. Trump himself made this same pledge. This is a form of legal bribery. As a leader, you use tax money given to the state by other citizens and spend it by transferring wealth to the poor and/or unemployed. Promising to pay people to vote for you is a very popular and effective tactic employed by various politicians and presidents. Turkish President Erdoğan a couple of years ago used taxpayer money to give coal and pasta to "encourage" Turkish citizens to vote "Yes" on the Constitutional Referendum. Ironic, that despite stating that this is indeed bribery, the CHP (Republican People’s Party) and MHP both resorted to such measures themselves. The model works.
In conclusion, Democracy gives the people a hand in the government yet despite that hand being ours, it is not controlled by us; and does things that are not good for us. In a sense, Democracy is no different than an illegitimate oligarchy today and worse than the oligarchies of yester-year. This results in Democracy being a system where it incentivizes poor economic policies, slavery (bondage slavery in the past, wage slavery in the present), social division and poor decision-making. A leader that is of a caliber of Alexander the Great, St. Justinian, Frederick the Great, Cyrus of Persia or Alexios Komnenos has never arisen from a Democratic election.
Ask yourself why that is the case.
from Republic Standard | Conservative Thought & Culture Magazine https://ift.tt/2LiJdEU via IFTTT
0 notes
storyunrelated · 5 years
Text
Wizards up the spout - Smith
One wonders whether people liked that quote honestly or ironically.
Given that it’ll be coming out of the mouth of this particular chap, will that colour anyone’s perceptions? Hmm.
Unlikely. Equally unlikely anyone will read. And it’s unfinished! Ah, what a tangled web we weave.
-
The man smelt strongly of lotion. Overpoweringly so. It was meant to be a pleasant smell and in moderation likely would have been, but the man had not been moderate in his application. He had been liberal. Generous, even. This made the smell pervasive and unavoidable, which made it cloying.
He himself seemed entirely unconcerned. He was probably used to it.
He smiled.
“Hello. I’m Smith. Just Smith to you. I work for an organisation you won’t have heard of but which is very important, believe me. I am important, you see? But that’s probably not what’s concerning you, is it? You’re probably wondering why I’m in here, your home, and who my friends are? Yes?”
Nigel swallowed and nodded. He had the distinct impression that he wasn’t required to talk.
“Understandable. Not the sort of thing that happens every day, is it? Not the sort of thing most people have experience with! But that’s fine. You’ll have to indulge me though. I’ve been away from polite company for a little while now and have found myself starved for conversation. It builds up, you know? If you spend too much time on your own, lacking anyone to unburden yourself to.”
Nigel’s eyes flicked to the lanky, quiet people moving about his home. Smith noticed this.
“Oh, my compatriots don’t count. Very useful for doing things I need doing, not so useful for conversation. There’s not a lot going on upstairs, you know?” Smith said, drilling a finger into his temple and grinning. “Nothing at all going on upstairs, actually. At least not unless I put it there.”
Smith beamed, as though this was amusing. Nigel didn’t get it. Smith smiled even wider.
“They’ve elves. Immature elves. Are they what you would have expected from elves, or not? Did you expect anything at all? A lot of people have preconceptions.”
Nigel’s mouth worked uselessly, but he had nothing he could think of saying. Elves? Nonsense. But looking at them, he had to admit they did still look wrong. He’d thought so since he’d first clapped eyes on them, yes, but really! Elves? Did they really look that wrong?
Uncomfortably, yes, yes they did. Nigel swallowed.
Smith waved a hand and leaned backwards.
“You see - and here we diverge into a brief biology lesson, because why not? - elves have the most fascinating life-cycle. Or at least I think so! Older, adult elves are sedentary, you see? They don’t move. They pick a nice, quiet, out of the way spot and they settle on down. Its their kids that do all the running around, see? The kids are wired so they’ll do anything their parents wants. Anything! Slavishly devoted, you might say, if devotion didn’t require a certain level of self-awareness. Just slavish, then.”
Smith smiled again and Nigel made to speak only to be shushed, Smith raising a hand.
“I haven’t finished,” he said. Nigel shut his mouth.
Smith continued.
“The first batch of kids are more like clones, really. Naturally produced, all very strange. As far as I know all elves have a set of these youngsters just waiting around inside them, ready to go once they mature. But yes. those can’t turn into adults. Kind of stunted. Just there to get the ball rolling. The real kids only come later, and they need another adult for that, and so they have to find one first!”
“And once they find another adult elf, which they do by sending out their little slave kids to go off investigating and sniffing around, they go and they attack. What they want is a very particular organ. The genitals, specifically. Elf genitals are very odd. Very difficult to describe. Designed to be torn off, you see? And so the adult being attacked will try to defend itself and the attacking kids will try to rip this thing off and run away with it. If they all die, the original adult who sent them will probably die too. Wither up. No-one to feed them, you see?”
“If they succeed, they’ll come back and leave the mutilated adult to lick their wounds. If the one who got their bits ripped off has any of their own kids left they should do alright. Elves are tough, so they’ll usually bounce back. Assuming ripping the bits off wasn’t particularly enthusiastic and they didn’t remove a few of the more vital pieces in all the excitement, of course.”
“If the losing adult loses all their kids though they die too. Harsh stuff. Nature, eh? Red in tooth and claw and all that, yes? Red in the tearing of the bits off? Anyway. Genitals come back to the adult who sent their kids, adult elf gets knocked up, they get some proper kids, the proper kids eat the first set of kids, proper kids obey parent but there’s a chance one will start to mature - if that happens the adult better be careful because those maturing kids got a big chance of snapping and eating their parent! And then going off themselves and starting all over again.”
“And so on and so forth. Circle of life. Absolutely ridiculous, isn’t it, yes? Nature was involved in this life-cycle only distantly! Most of that is magic. Magic is a fickle creature.”
Nigel was by now just staring, mouth hanging slackly open. He’d listened, but after a while it had just become a wall of noise. It was nonsense. Bits of it made sense and he could follow it, but it was nonsense top to bottom. Worse, Smith looked like he believed every last bit of it. This wasn’t someone just spinning a yarn to make someone else sweat, this was someone unloading something they’d wanted to tell for a while, relishing the release.
It had already been pretty clear that this Smith chap was a lunatic, given he was in the habit of breaking and entering with a posse of silent, waifish goons, but he was apparently far more detached from reality that Nigel had initially suspected.
Nigel wondered what the quickest escape route might be, and what his odds were of making it without being caught. Slim, he realised, glumly. He was surrounded.
Smith lent forward and patted Nigel on the knee, making Nigel flinch.
“Now I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking that I’m not an elf - and you’d be right! Keen eye on you! You see, I’d studied elves, and the same thought just kept coming back to me: how do they control those kids? The control is perfect! Totally loyal, know exactly what they’re meant to be doing no matter how far. Extensions of the body! That’s the kind of thing that could be very useful to a man in my line of work. And if someone else can have it, I can have it, yes? Just a question of working out how, yes?”
“So I did a little more research. Found some elves of my own, opened them up, poked around. Found some interesting squishy bits. Eventually, I found the one squishy bit I wanted! Found an adult elf who wasn’t really using theirs and just-so happened to visit them when their kids were out. I borrowed it! They didn’t seem to mind, or at least I don’t remember them trying very hard to stop me. And lo and behold, the children now think I’m daddy. Isn’t that nice?”
Smith continued smiling and trailed a hand across one of his minions as they moved past. They were all smiling too, Nigel saw, in a blank, vacant kind of a way that made Nigel even more uncomfortable than he already was. Smith turned back to Nigel, looking a tiny bit more serious than he had a moment before.
“Anyway. The point of all of this is that sometimes you just need an all-natural ingredient, and they’re sometimes in places or in people you wouldn’t expect. This is where you come in.”
That got Nigel’s immediate and undivided attention. Smith was staring at him now, and didn’t seem to want to blink. Nigel noticed that, for all of Smith’s youthful good looks, his eyes looked tired. Exhausted, even. Not to mention bloodshot.
“Have you ever heard that in some places, albinos are murdered for the body parts? For use in potions and rituals and such. No? Well it happens. Not exactly every day, but it happens. Rot, obviously. Nothing special about them, magically speaking. It’s just superstitious nonsense. But there are people in the world who have bits and pieces in them that are actually special, that are actually useful. Can’t tell from the outside though, oh no, can’t tell by looking. You have to sniff it out, see? Which is hard work. But rewarding.”
Smith sat forward, moving so he was balancing only on the very edge of the chair.
“And let me tell you, you smell good. Very, very good,” he said, the smile back in full force. He then stretched, arms over his head and grunting to himself, rolling his neck.
“Unfortunately, there is no way of me telling - sat here - which bit of yours is the bit I need to cut out. I can just tell there’s one in there, somewhere. Hardly precise, is it? Which means I’m going to have to cut and cut and cut until I find the right bit. Also unfortunately you are going to have to be alive for that. And awake. Sorry about that but, you know, magic. It’s a bitch.”
Whatever calming, smothering influence had wrapped up Nigel until this point finally broke and he could stand it no longer. It did not matter if he was surrounded or that the exits were covered, all that mattered was getting away.
“Kids, if you wouldn’t mind holding my new friend nice and still for me? Daddy has to work.”
The screaming continued for some time once the work in question started. Precautions had been taken against anyone hearing these who might cause trouble, obviously, and so Smith was content to let Nigel scream however much he felt like. If Smith was being honest - and Smith was always honest, at least with himself - he had to admit that he actually rather liked the sounds that Nigel made.
Smith knew that this was probably a bad sign, but he didn’t really care. Everyone had their vices, after all, and if one of his was a certain level of enjoyment and maybe just a smidgen of arousal when it came to the obvious terror and agony of another thinking being, well, what could he do about that?
He was only human, after all. He wasn’t made of stone.
-
(As I say, unfinished.)
0 notes