#and blue screening when confronted by their lack of logic

[queenoftheboard]

♕ headcanon . forming attachment with others & expressing feelings

Given Eirene's complicated childhood with an abusive father, equally difficult siblings and losing her mother at a young age, it should be no surprise that she has difficulty forming attachment with others and acknowledging or working with her emotions in healthy ways.

This was made worse by the fact that Eirene was viewed as some sort of prized 'commodity'; as referenced here, the only reason that Bryce cared for Eirene was because of the 'asset' she represented to him - the right DNA combined with a very rational mind and a logical skillset. Eirene's sense of worth was built around being a 'Campbell' and needing to prove herself to Bryce and the other family members as 'the best of them all', as shown in the interrogations. Not even the notion that Bryce had hired bandits to have her killed (in principle) changed that.

The final straw was really the way he attempted to manipulate her sinner powers - and for the first time, Eirene had the chance to completely overhaul the board and take charge instead. Awakening as a Sinner was the best thing that could have happened to her - it offered Eirene the ability to break free of the invisible shackles her father had on her, becoming truly unstoppable with the backing of her name and fortune (which she later expanded with incredible success under Quinn).

Combining everything (her passion for chess; the preference for cold logic and long-term planning; her terrible examples at home), Eirene came to view people as pawns herself, replicating Bryce's view of the world to a degree. Although she is shown to be less ruthless than her father in relation to kin (by refusing to outright kill him despite everything) and aware that one can have the loyalty of others through different means, this doesn't change the fact that Eirene typically struggles with the notion of developing feelings and growing attached to anyone.

The first indicative that she has feelings for someone tends to appear in a rather possessive/territorial sort of way; this is a reflection of the fact that she sees people as 'things' in a way, and as they become increasingly 'precious' to Eirene, so does her tendency to 'protect' them (even if she masks it under some sort of entitlement - i.e. 'no only can hurt them but me', where she has a rivalry of sorts with someone).

It's not a coincidence that most of her sexual kinks and inclinations are almost always associated to control and dominance. Therefore, accepting defeat/surrendering control/willingly allowing others to dictate the pace or rhythm is another indication of some genuine interest - if Eirene has no emotions towards the other person with her in intimate moments, attempting to fight or subvert her orders ends with her outright leaving the room (and likely refusing any payment owed on the grounds of 'unsatisfactory service provided').

If these relationships are not interrupted in some way or form, Eirene will generally be confronted with the 'illogical' aspect of these connections at some point - she will be acting in ways where the risks far outweigh the rewards (in other words: in a pure selfless manner, which does not corroborate her greed alignment and overall modus operandi) and that is not something she can rationally explain... Because emotions and feelings are not always rational.

At these moments, Eirene's struggle to connect with her feelings (after all, she's no machine) will come collect the price: chances are that the woman will be momentarily incapacitated, given the emotional overload and crushing intensity of these feelings being finally allowed to emerge (or rather, acknowledged). Eirene has long considered these as 'weaknesses' in her mind, and realizing that there is a sincere bond with others will be an immediate vulnerability for her, leaving her usual mental abilities under strain and susceptible to some forms of manipulation, too.

Ultimately, whatever becomes of Eirene and the other person will depend on a case by case basis - in some situations, these bonds may fortify and empower her, showing that having these trusted connections are not problems but solutions; in other cases, however, she may ultimately decide to push those people away and sever ties, retreating into her prior (and familiar) way of operation through compartmentalization and still refusing to trust others.

In other verses where she is not a Sinner, the development of her emotional intelligence follows a similar pattern: logic and rationality were always weapons Eirene needed to survive a harsh environment, and the same preferences/tendencies will appear until she is forced to see the invariable truth before her eyes and make a decision on how to proceed (i.e. embracing versus rejecting that attachment).

[arty-shadow-morningstar]

A Failed Betrothal (Part 3)

There were a lack of stuff to read so I posted this instead.

[Masterlist]

(Part 1)(Part 2)

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PART 3

The next day was weird to say the least for everyone but for Marinette, it was another can of worms that she wished she didn’t open. For one thing, Chat Noir’s feelings obsession for Ladybug switched from one black-haired girl to another which unfortunately was Ladybug’s civilian form. Which meant Marinette had to deal with Adrien’s Chat-Noir-level flirting and bad pick-up lines.

Perfect, just perfect.

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Everyone thought that a declaration speech of ‘being soulmates and the only one for him’ in front of the whole class from the ‘love of your life’ would warrant a ‘blushing to death and stammering’ or ‘outright fainting’. Not a facepalm, a groan, “Why me?” and a “I am sorry but NO. I don’t feel the same way about you”. Marinette vaguely wondered if there was some kind of rule for interesting events and confrontations to happen during lunch break while the class waits for Mme Bustier to start the lessons.

Marinette went to sit in her seat next to Chloe in the back row where she and her friends had been exiled to. The class was in stunned silence and questioning about whether or not they had fallen into an alternate universe or dreaming. Nathaniel and Alix tried to hide their snickers. Chloe just started outright laughing, turning very red in the face.

Marinette felt a nudge from Plagg in her bag. Looking down, she saw them holding up her phone to show Lila’s gaping face of horror with a wicked smug grin on their face. She looked through the photos to see everyone’s faces of confusion and shock at her rejection. Eyes wide and jaws dropped on the ground. Different shots of her classmates in the same state. She smirked and showed them to Chloe who calmed down enough, letting out the occasional giggles and took the phone with glee.

“Thank you, Plagg. Here you go.” she whispered, giving them a camembert macaron.(Tom had started experimenting with camembert in his recipes. Plagg is his first taste tester for all of them, making Tom one of Plagg’s favourite people.)

Adrien didn’t take the rejection very well.

“But we are meant to be. You are a designer and I am a model. Our partnership is the one to be envied by many for the ages.”

“And by that logic,” The designer turned to her main model for her MDC website, “Chloe, my love, will you be my one and only? For our love shines so bright ,paralleled only by a thousand suns.” Using the same voice Plagg does when they go on one of their love odes about camembert before losing her straight face and giggling.(Plagg doesn’t know whether to be offended or amused.)

Setting Chloe’s laughter off again. “Mariiiii,...stop….I can’t..*gasps*....I can’t…”

Nathaniel and Alix, finally lost control and joined Chloe in death by laughter. Adrien was flustered, turning red in the face either from anger, embarrassment or both.

“But Chloe isn’t a model.”

Marinette decided to put a stop to this, just on the off chance that Gabriel finally decides to akumatized his own son. She recomposed herself.

“She is the main model for my website and we have a partnership. You, however, work for your father. So does Miss Rossi. Does that sound like the partnership to be envied by many for the ages? Hmmm, Agreste? Anyways, like I said before, I have no interest in dating you.”

“Why not? We are friends and sometimes, friends like each other enough to date each other.” Adrien angrily asked.

“Because-”

“Because, Adrikins,” Chloe cuts in, “friends having to date because one of them is interested in something more makes no sense and is fucked-up. Marinette doesn’t owe you anything. Besides, she already has a long distance boyfriend who lives in America.”

“WHAT!?” Adrien shouted.

“What?!” The class had snapped out of their stupor. Since when had Marinette gotten over Adrien and had a boyfriend?

“What?” Marinette looked at Chloe with wide-eyes. Last she checked she was still single so what the hell was Chloe playing at. For Kwami’s sake, she hadn’t been on a date since the one with Luka which went awkwardly before they agreed that they think of each other as siblings and it will be best to stay that way.

Chloe gave her a look that said ‘I will explain later.’

“Oh yes, they met online a few months ago and now they are all lovey-dovey together. It’s just so ridiculous, so utterly ridiculous how disgustingly in love they are. They have video call dates at least once a week and somehow make it work despite the time differences. He once came all the way to Paris just to see her. He brought her some special flowers that apparently meant-”

Marinette slapped her hand over Chloe’s mouth. “Well, Chloe, Queenie, as much as I love you as my friend, you can stop gushing about my love life now. Because class is about to start.”

She said through gritted teeth as Mme Bustier finished taking her sweet time and walked in. Sadly, Alya wasn’t done with the conversation ,“Wait a minute, since when did Chloe and you become close enough that she is modeling for you? And a boyfriend? Why didn’t you tell me, Girl? I thought we were friends. What about Adrien, he just confessed to you and you had been crushing on him for so long” Many girls gasped, angry that Alya broke the unspoken girl code.

“You have a crush on me?” Adrien looked hopeful. Like a lost kitten that had been stuck in the rain, was let into someone’s home.

“I had a crush on you,” Marinette corrected him, emphasising on the past tense, “and Alya had no business of sharing that information to the entire world despite us not being friends anymore.” She glared at the journalist who at least looked ashamed.

“You wanted to date Kagami so I moved on.”

One of the reasons anyway. I found out that you were my partner who had no concept of boundaries. You are a coward who only wants to maintain the class peace at the price of my mental health, she thought.

“Instead of continuing to pursue you.” She hoped the ever dense and oblivious model would get the hint she gave him. Tikki ,just this once, Grant me that ladybug luck.

“And Mme Bustier, it is time to start the lessons, don’t you think? Instead of focusing on the class drama to gossip about later on.” Marinette glared at the teacher, reminding her to do her job.

“Oh. Right.” Mme Bustier tried to regain her ‘perfect teacher’ image after getting embarrassed at being caught, “Right. Class, turn to page-”

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As soon as the bell rang for the end of school, Marinette dragged Chloe all the way to her room. Alix and Nathaniel followed them because as far as they know, Marinette had no boyfriends and they were as curious to find out what scheme Chloe had cooked up this time. They were as complicated and crazy as Ladybug’s. No offense, Marinette.

“Okay, Queenie, you have to explain why I now have a devoted American boyfriend who I am so in love with.” Marinette crossed her arms with a frown aimed at Chloe. The kwamis got out of their respective hiding places and went to the tray of food set out for them.

The trapdoor to her room opened, revealing the rest of their friend group before Chloe said anything.

“Did we miss anything?” Kagami asked as Longg and Sass joined the other kwamis.

“Juleka said something about an American boyfriend and how he sounds so romantic. Does that have to do anything with the text Alix sent us to come here?” Luka added.

“To recap, Adrien made a love confession to Marinette,” Alix started, biting into some of the delicious pastries the Dupain-Chengs gave them, ”in front of the entire class after an entire day of flirting and bad pick-up lines.”

“Wow, even after having his memories erased of being Chat Noir, he is still after Ladybug.” Luka chuckled, with the others joining in.

Marinette whined, “It was easier when he was Chat Noir. But now as Adrien Agreste, teen heartthrob, it is going to be much more difficult to get into his thick head that I don’t see him that way and it is going to get harder, now that Alya outed my old crush to him.”

“Oof. Sucks to be you.”

“So, our Mari-bug rejected him. He threw a tantrum and sulked, so like Chat Noir, how did we not notice?,” Alix continued, “After demanding reasons why they can’t date, Chloe gave Marinette an American boyfriend who she was in a long-distance relationship with. Speaking of, why did you do that?”

“I have known Adrik- Adrien since we were in diapers and I know how that mangy cat works. He grew up on Disney and had all those fairytales stuffed into his head. If you had told him that you were just not interested in dating at the moment, it won’t work because he will try his hardest to ‘woo’ you, because he still has a chance. He won’t push his luck as much if you were off the market.” Chloe explained.

“I am sure that, judging by the fact that Chat Noir still tries to date Ladybug despite her saying she is in love with someone, Adrien might try to get more proof of this boyfriend to make sure Marinette is just not pretending to have one.” Kagami pointed out.

“Ahh, but luckily I have a back-up plan. I have a friend, Tim Drake. We met at a few galas when we were younger and kept in touch. He also owes me a favor.”

“I hope this Tim Drake is cute.”

“He is and he’s older than you by two years and,” Chloe typed something on her phone, “A fellow caffeine addict so you can bond over that. Here’s a picture of him and his brother.”

On her phone were two extremely attractive and fit young men dressed in expensive suits at what looked like a gala, the older one had a charming polite smile with bright blue eyes, looking somewhat interested at what someone off-screen was saying despite looking like he will fall over any moment. His brother, however, looked like he would rather be anywhere but where he was. He was tanned and had green eyes that promised murder for daring to even breathe in his direction. Marinette noticed that he looked a little familiar but she can’t place why.

“Tim is the one that looks like he hasn’t slept in days and that’s his brother Damian next to him.”

“Wait a minute. That’s Tim Drake and Damian Wayne. The sons of Bruce Wayne, the billionaire co-CEO of Wayne Industries, which Tim Drake is also co-CEO of.” Nathaniel said with wide eyes and looked at Chloe, “You are using your favor to give our Mari here a fake boyfriend.”

“Of course, only the best for our Mari-bug.”

“Chloe, no, he is probably busy as he is with running the company. No need to get him involved in petty teenage drama.” No matter how much she doesn’t want to date Adrien, bothering a busy guy to be her fake boyfriend is not worth it in Marinette’s opinion. Which, of course, gets overruled by the overprotectiveness of her friends.

“I, for one, think this is one of Chloe’s better plans.” Kagami commented, the others agreeing with her. Traitors.

“Hey!” Chloe exclaimed, an offended look on her face, “Anyways, I will call him later.”

“Children, you better go home now before your parents worry.” Sabine’s voice came from below, “Remember we are also going through some drills tonight so try not to be late.” Having a former assassin for a mother is handy when you want to train a team of teenage superheroes.

“Bye, guys. See you later.”

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“Just because you have been trained since birth does not excuse you from the drills. You also need to get used to the black cat.” Lady Mǔ lǎohǔ reprimanded her with her arms crossed. When Ladybug started her new team, she was the first permanent member but as the team got bigger, she stepped back to be back-up and mentor for the team.

“Yes, Maman, I know but I am nearly finished with this commission. I will catch up with you later. Promise.” Marinette stretched, looking up from her latest project. Plagg was napping in the little basket she had made for all the kwamis to sleep in which fit all of them and had some extra space for Nooroo and Dusuu after they had been retrieved.

The reason she had Plagg instead of Tikki who was with Alix was because of the new tactic the Miraculous Team came up with. To keep the balance the Ladybug and Black Cat must be active at the same time but with Adrien gone, someone must wield the ring until a new permanent holder is found and it was not a good idea for both of them to be on the same person at the same time. The team decided to rotate using the earrings and ring between them with Marinette using other miraculouses when the others have them. It also had the added bonus of making it harder for Hawkmoth to find out who has them at any given time.

“See you later, 灵儿 (líng er, means intelligence). I will give you 15 minutes but that’s it. Don’t be late.” Sabine sighed and got out the skylight and went towards the safehouse where the Miraculous team met to get training. (It is one of Sabine’s emergency safehouse to use in times of emergency and it had the required space to train 6 teenagers. Chat Noir never came to training, lazy cat.)

Marinette never made it to the warehouse.

Because a few minutes after her mother left, the skylight opened to let in five figures dressed in dark colours to easily blend into the shadows like they were trained to be. Too bad they weren’t as quiet. Marinette immediately summoned a bo-staff to defend herself.

One of them lunged at her and she retaliated by hitting the end of her staff to their middle, coupled with a couple more blows and landed one that knocked them out. The others threw throwing stars which she dodged by jumping back. Which landed her to be trapped by the two assassins, whom she didn’t notice, had moved. She cursed in every language she knew as she struggled against them. It led to no avail as she was badly out-numbered. There was a prick on her head and her world went black.

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Plagg awoke to a loud commotion. Irritated, they poked their head out to see their new temporary kit knocked out, tied up and hauled away. Recognizing the kidnappers as assassins of the League of Shadows, they scowled. Ra’s Al Ghul was going to pay.

Plagg may not act like it much but the black kwami was patient and smart. Smart enough to leave a note with an explanation somewhere visible with the messy aftermath of a fight before trailing the assassins. Oh, Roarr’s tiger was going to be pissed once she found out what happened. Wherever they were taking Marinette, it would be best to have a kwami of destruction to help her escape. The night made Plagg almost invisible and allowed to move unseen. They caught up easily and hid in their holder’s midnight hair. Now, their patience came into play. It was a matter of waiting for the right moment to pounce.

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(Part 4)

[stovetuna]

CW: character death and Tony lack of self esteem and self preservation. Ignore if not ur jam

(¬_¬) psssttt angst time. post-Endgame Steve accidentally ending up in 616 and meets that Steve and Tony. And after failing to wrestling ANY info about why this Steve is here, 616-Tony figures out other him is dead and this Steve is taking it badly and this has Tony trying to make MCU-Steve feel better by saying something like well that me probably deserved it??? All us Tonys do (This does not make MCU feel better. Nor does it make 616-Steve very happy)

ANON MY HEART! IT CANNOT TAKE THIS! (she says as she mulls over this prompt for DAYS and even snaps out of half-sleep to write a little bit of it)...

but like, imagine it. Somehow or other Steve ends up in 616!universe—a spell of Dr. Strange’s gone awry, maybe, or a clusterfuck while returning the time stone—and he’s ended up in 616!Tony’s workshop. It’s late, he’s confused and disoriented and grieving, and he’s already making for the ratty sofa (thinking fixing this is a problem for future steve) when he realizes there’s already someone stretched out on it.

not someone. someones. together. wrapped around each other like koalas on a branch. one of them is Tony—no amount of darkness can smother that blue light, or so Steve once thought—and his heart is breaking all over again, when the person wrapped around him, partially hidden behind Tony’s shoulder, raises his head, eyes alert, and Steve realizes it’s him. Himself. Steve Rogers, from another dimension. Universe. Tony would know which. 

Rogers snaps to attention and is standing and interrogating Steve and he manages to not wake Tony up the whole time. This Tony sleeps like a rock, or maybe that’s just because of Rogers, and Steve is spiraling over the fact that maybe that’s all it would have taken to make things right—better—in his own universe. He could have been brave, he could have been strong enough for both of them to walk up to Tony and ask him out, kiss him, something. Instead he lied, and hid, and ran. He’s still running. Meanwhile this taller, broader, stronger version of him chose happiness, because what else could life with Tony Stark be? 

Rogers is grilling him in the semi-darkness, asking questions Steve isn’t sure he’s allowed to answer (the rules of the time heist are still fresh in his mind), but the questioning stops when Steve starts crying and asks him how long they’ve been together. If it was enough to stop their fight, and everything that happened after.

Rogers tells him they were too late to stop the Civil War, but they pulled their heads out of their asses eventually. When Steve mentions Thanos, Rogers’ face flashes recognition but not the same level of grief Steve feels like a railroad spike lodged in his heart. Whatever else has happened in this universe, Thanos hasn’t, and this Steve and Tony are together. Steve can’t stop thinking this is all just a cruel nightmare disguised as a tear in the fabric of the universe. 

And then the lights come on at a dim 30%, revealing a Tony Stark who is whole and alive and very, very different from the man Steve knew. While Steve stands there poleaxed in crisis mode (Stark mentions “blue screening” which is a reference Steve does get and he hurts all the more deeply because of it), Rogers fills Stark in on what he knows about Steve, when he showed up, what they’ve talked about. When Rogers mentions Steve’s question about their relationship, something brightens in Stark’s blue eyes.

“Your universe’s Tony Stark is dead, isn’t he?”

Steve makes a sound that is something between a sob and a laugh. Of course Stark would figure it out with the least amount of information at hand. In response, Rogers grabs Stark’s hand. He’s gone deathly pale, as if the very thought of losing Tony is too terrible to imagine, and he shares a look with Stark that speaks volumes, because Stark looks just as grim. Something happened there, Steve thinks—one or the other of them died, or came close enough to put the fear of it in them for life. 

And then Stark opens his mouth and says “If your universe’s Tony Stark was anything like me, and categorically speaking he probably was, he probably deserved it.”

Steve’s gut plummets because Jesus Christ, does Tony Stark not have any sense of self-worth, in any universe?? Apparently he and Rogers are the same wavelength—shocker—because he rounds on Stark with “Tony, we’ve talked about this” while Stark waves him off with a scoff. 

“This isn’t low self-esteem talking, Steve—you know my track record when it comes to near death experiences. How many would you say have been the inevitable result of my own actions?” 

Rogers’s face flattens. His lips and eyes narrow. “Too many.”

“Right. So am I right, or am I right?” Stark asks Steve, but Steve’s tongue has cleaved to the roof of his mouth. Of course, Tony Stark was always able to talk enough for three people, even if two of them were, technically, the same person. “He probably went down thinking he was the only one who could fix whatever was broken, walked right into a coffin he made himself, literally if not figuratively.” 

Steve swallows. “Actually,” he says, thinking of the gauntlet fused to Tony’s armor, which had fused to his arm, “it was something like that.” 

Steve’s eyes laser in on their joined hands, tearing up when he sees Stark squeeze Rogers’s fingers. A small touch of reassurance, stabilizing and loving, to remind Rogers he was still here. Still breathing. Still alive. The look Rogers sends Stark is so warm, so full of things Steve doesn’t have the strength to name, it threatens to shove him deeper into an already devastating downward spiral. 

So of course Stark chooses that moment to look at Steve and be his usual smart self, because some things are truly universal, and Tony Stark’s intelligence and ability to read people is one of them. 

“You never told him?” 

Steve shakes his head. Rogers makes a small, hapless sound, like the thought of never telling Tony Stark his feelings, being with him, is too sad to consider. It is—Steve can honestly say it is, and of the two of them, Steve is the only one who has to live with the consequences of the choice he made (and made, over and over again) for the rest of his life.

Whatever nonverbal communication passes between the two men, Steve doesn’t see it. He’s too busy staring through blurry eyes at the floor of the workshop, wishing this nightmare would end so he could go back to his own universe and not have to be confronted with the life he wishes he could have had with a man who was now dead. 

He’s so wrapped up in his own misery, he doesn’t register movement until two socked feet stop in front of his shoes and he looks up to see Stark standing there, eyebrows knitted in concern and wonder and, worst of all, understanding. Like he’s been where Steve is, lost and bereft, irreparably heartbroken. Did this Tony lose his Steve? How? Rogers is standing right there. But Steve has seen Stark’s expression in his own mirrored reflection every morning for the past year, and while he was never on par with Tony Stark’s genius, he could read people too. Stark knows this kind of loss as deeply as Steve does now.

“We’ll get you home first thing,” Stark tells him, but it sounds like a line to quell Steve’s nerves, which it does, and a good thing too, because Stark is moving into Steve’s personal space as he says it, breathing his air and meeting his gaze straight on. “Nod if you understand?” 

Of course Stark would be considerate of Steve’s inability to speak when they’re this close. Steve nods. 

“Can I give you something, Steve? If I know myself—and I do, really, even if my judgement isn’t always perfectly sound—your Tony would have wanted to give it to you himself. But life wasn’t fair to either of you, I think. Not that it ever is, but, I’d like to correct the imbalance in some small way. Is that okay?”

Steve nods before he realizes he’s doing it, like his body knows what’s coming before his brain does and he’s helpless to resist. 

Logically, Steve knows this isn’t his Tony. Not because his Tony is dead—although that does play a major factor—but because this one is so unlike him. This Tony, Stark—he’s too tall, Steve’s mind supplies, too young, too broad; his hair is too dark and his eyes are too blue. 

But Steve Rogers would recognize Tony Stark anywhere, in any dimension. In any universe. And if it means getting to give Tony everything he was too scared to offer him in life, even for a second—let alone getting some of it back—then so much the better. 

Stark pulls him in for a kiss like it’s second nature to him. Muscle memory. But to Steve, it’s a shock to the system. Every hair on his body is standing on end. He gasps against Stark’s lips and suddenly fingers are buried in his hair, tugging him closer before he can stop and ask them if this is okay, if they know what this means to Steve, if he can actually have this. 

A sob sticks in his throat as he finally musters the wherewithal to kiss back. Stark takes it handily, licking a hot, wet line across Steve’s bottom lip before Steve slants left and kisses him hard and deep, wrapping his arms around the similar-yet-unfamiliar frame.   Kissing Stark, Steve realizes, makes him happy, in a profoundly genuine, comforting way he hasn’t felt in years, and the only way to express it is to wrap a hand around the back of Stark’s neck, just below the nape, and suck the moan right out of his mouth. Even if that happiness is soured by his implacable grief, he can shove that into the back of his mind long enough to luxuriate in the feeling of Stark’s tongue brushing against his soft palate, those hard, scarred workman’s hands sliding up under his shirt to splay soft across his lower back. He feels safe, and happy, and loved. 

And if he imagines his Tony in Stark’s place, no one has to know. And if they did, Steve doesn’t think either of them would judge him for it. His instinct is confirmed when Steve pulls away long enough—breathing hard, just like Stark, who looks for all the world like someone who just fell off a Tilt-a-Whirl ass-backwards—to look over Stark’s shoulder at Rogers, who’s staring hungrily at both of them like he doesn’t know whether to pounce or stay put. The tent in his sweatpants speaks for itself. 

Before Steve can piece two coherent thoughts together—like does he feel weird about an alternative universe version of himself being turned on by this? or does he need to stop kissing Stark before this gets out of hand? how is he supposed to get home? how is he supposed to live without this now that he’s had a taste of it?—Stark is pulling him back in for a kiss that tunes out all the noise and warms him through, tucked in the safe, quiet, happy circle of Stark’s arms.

Steve holds the man and the moment as close as he can, as long as he can, and he’s grateful, for the first time in his life after coming out of the ice, for the silence. 

[obae-me]

A Taste of His Own Medicine- Asmo

Word Count: 3012

Medication Warning: These stories might contain strange demon medicines, but always make sure that you take the regulated dose. Don’t think like Asmo! Taking more will not make you feel any better. Keep the dangers in the fictional world, and as always, read with safety, thank you! 

Time as Levi’s nurse passed fairly quickly. After two days of constant attention, most of the symptoms had faded. He was still weaker than anyone would enjoy, but he was back in front of his screens in no time. Although, every so often he’d give you a side glance and rattle his body with a loud cough, causing you to roll your eyes a bit but smile and give him some more attention. Aside from the pseudo-symptoms, at last, it was all over. Surely, tonight you’d finally let your sore exhausted body get some rest with the relief in knowing that whatever demon illness had been plaguing the brothers was finally gone…

That was, until everyone in the House of Lamentation was awoken one night to a blood-curdling scream. You awoke in a sweat, nerves standing up on end. Before you could comprehend anything, you dashed out to the hallway, apparently the last to join the stunned members of the household. Mammon was still attempting to find balance on his feet, cursing about one of his legs being asleep. Levi rubbed his eyes, and you couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. He was supposed to be regaining his strength. Satan looked more intrigued than anything. Beel was ready for action, but, surprisingly enough, Belphie looked more awake than anyone before you. These were his hours, you supposed. Lucifer was a strange combination of furious due to having his rest be interrupted--he barely gets enough as it is--and concerned. 

“MC!--Oh, thank the stars,” he sighed, pressing his hand to his forehead, thankful you weren’t the cause of the haunting wail. “We’ve got…” His irises almost went cross-eyed for a moment as he started calling out everyone’s names. The realization hit you at the same moment it hit him. “Asmo.” No one hesitated in dashing to his room, the adrenaline pumping in you more as the sound of shattering glass and splintering wood reached your ears. Worry clamped your lungs shut, not daring to breathe until you arrived at your location. 

Mammon was the first to reach the door, immediately kicking the wood in. The entrance hit the floor with a loud bang, and you attempted to peer in, but were abruptly yanked backwards by Lucifer. Just in time too, for just at that moment, an entire dresser launched itself from the bedroom, smacking against Mammon, pinning him against the back wall of the hallway. Everything in you screamed to run to him, but the demon of pride had you held tightly against his body. Mammon got up off the floor, shaking his head, but not visibly injured, barely even bothered, just frustrated. 

“For the love of sin, Asmo!” He growled, and another shriek echoed through the halls, shaking the windows. You brought your hands up to cover your ears, and Lucifer quickly handed you off to Levi.  

“What’s happening?” The strength of your legs began to waver, and, for a split second, the eldest’s eyes grew wide at your distress. Of course you wouldn’t know, how could you? Sometimes he forgets you’re only a human. 

Placing a gentle hand on your head--his best attempt at assurance--he let out another sleep-deprived groan, pinching the bridge of his nose whilst his siblings dashed into the chaos. “It’s what we all feared. Asmo has fallen ill. It happens one every few centuries. Stay with Levi. We’ll work on calming him down.” With that, he turned and swiftly joined the fray. A swirl of blue magic surrounded the door, lifting it from it’s position, settling back against the frame while shouts and bangs rattled the ground. All you could do was blink in frightful awe and flinch at every awful sound. 

“C-come on, it’s best if we go...N-now, like, right now,” Levi breathed, his voice shaking with terror. You raised an eyebrow, trying to piece together why he sounded as if he was in danger.

You didn’t have the time to question why. The wall separating the room from the hallway nearly crumbled, bricks and rubble coating the floor. Peachy eyes glowed harshly against the dark of night. “Levi…” The figure growled maliciously as the dust settled. “You did this to me...you all did this to me!” It struck you who it was and why even Levi himself was nearly petrified with fear. Of course you didn’t know, why would you? Sometimes you forgot you were surrounded by demons. 

“Oi!” 

In a swirl of motion, demons rushed to tackle him down, but not before the person behind the destruction began to lunge in yours and Levi’s direction. The third-born twisted his body, beginning to pull you behind him to shield you, but your body moved almost on its own. Tugging yourself out of his grip, you moved forward with an outstretched arm. “Asmo!” The palm of your hand came into contact with his chest, and as soon as it did, everything seemed to stop all at once. The rampage put itself at pause as Asmo looked at you with wide eyes, his hands still raised, claws nearly brushing against your skin. With your hand on his chest, you could tell that he’d stopped breathing. You took this moment to observe his face. Nose red, eyes puffy from angry tears, overall looking drained, missing vibrancy, much different than the Asmo you were so acquainted with. 

The demon of lust took one last moment to recollect his thoughts, gathering back his composure before giving a loud horrified gasp of a breath before his knees gave out, his body collapsing to the floor. 

* * *

“Absolutely, positively, one of the worst decisions you’ve ever made!” You’d beg to differ, but now was definitely not the time for that. “Did you even think?!” You tried to open your mouth but were cut short. “Don’t answer that.” Lucifer looked beyond frazzled, and as you watched him pace back and forth in front of you, you wondered if those were new grey strands in the fringes of his hair or if it was simply your imagination. He’d been stepping back and forth for so long, you’d almost gotten dizzy from the motion. 

But Lucifer wasn’t the only one here to...critique your...survival response--or questionable lack thereof. “What do you do when you see an angry demon? Hm?” Satan’s eyebrow was twitching, but he was doing his utmost best to stay calm unlike his older brothers. 

You lowered your head. “You run.” 

“What do we not do?” 

“...Confront them.” The blonde nodded, leaving it at that for the time being. With a quick scan around the room, he tilted his head and sat in a chair, biting back one of his usual retorts. Typically, he wouldn’t hesitate to be snippy, especially considering his sibling’s current behaviors, but he didn’t have the heart for it. Not right now when he was focusing hard on suppressing the bubbling rage of what he’d just observed. Levi was a dazed mess, sulking at his failed job as a bodyguard, slung over Beel’s shoulder, muttering endlessly. The demon of gluttony himself had yet to peel his sight from you since you’d been dragged back to your room. Had he even blinked? It was as if he was wary that, should he look away, even for a moment, you’d do something reckless again. To be fair, logically, what you’d done had been a rather idiotic move. In your defense, it was also dipping well past the early hours of the morning, they couldn’t hold it against you for not being at your peak at this time...But, they were right. Had Asmo not been able to stop himself, who knows what the outcome would’ve been. You still weren’t quite sure of everything that had happened, but something had moved you, convinced you that if you just...reached out to him...Turning your head to the side, you brushed your hand over the bump in the blankets where his arm was. As soon as he’d collapsed, both you and Asmo were briskly brought to your room. You’d been able to assist in tucking him under your covers for only a moment before being scolded. Belphie placed a fresh cold rag over Asmo’s forehead, meeting your eyes for just a second before snapping his head to look away from you with the slightest hint of a disappointed pout in his lips. Even the self-proclaimed apathetic demon of sloth was upset? And Mammon...Mammon was...dead silent, still as a stone, back turned to you as he pressed his face against the wall. If anything, that upset you the most. 

Speaking loudly as to regain their attention, you apologized. “I’m sorry! I know it was dumb of me, but…” Asmo’s eyebrows scrunched, a painful moan rumbling in his throat. You adjusted your seated spot on the bed, sitting closer to his body, settled by his thigh. Placing your hand over the comforter covering his chest, you stroked up and down in a slow soothing rhythm. His head moved to find a cooler, more comfortable spot on the pillow, and with the comforting motion against his body, he went still with rest again. “He sounded heartbroken.” 

The room fell silent, Lucifer stopped his pacing. Everyone’s shoulders slumped, and then finally Mammon spoke up. “He’s just being dramatic over his dumb face! Losing control like that...almost hurting you because he doesn’t look pretty...He’s not worth getting yourself killed over!” You shot him a dirty warning look, and he scoffed, rubbing the back of his head. “I didn’t mean it like that. You just gotta be more careful, okay?” 

“Okay, I get it. But you all know I can take care of myself too, right?” None of them would look you in the eyes for that question, and you made a mental note to confront them about that later, but for now… “Enough worrying about me, you should be worried for your brother.” The fire of conflict was quickly snuffed out by your shining eyes and Asmo’s little whimpers. 

Lucifer rolled his head around his shoulders and then rubbed away the little pang behind his temples. “I’ll go let Diavolo know of the situation. I’m sure he won’t be surprised…” He grumbled something under his breath one last time before he left the room, D.D.D. in hand. 

“I suppose I can do my best to help clean Asmo’s room. He might recover quicker in a familiar environment.” Satan got to his feet, stretching, cracking an eye open to look at Mammon before grabbing him by the back of his shirt. “And you’re going to help me.” 

“O-oi! Why me?! Hold on! I haven’t said what I needed to yet!” But his cries were ignored as the demon of wrath dragged him down the hallway. 

Now you were left with the afflicted, the twins, and a still sorrowful Levi. “Beel, can you please take Levi to his room? And Belphie can you please make sure he goes to sleep?” The lighter-haired sibling nodded, shifting his older brother to his other shoulder. Belphie still had his head turned away from you. Your heart fell a bit. “Pretty please?” 

He made the mistake of getting a quick peek of your pleading face. “You have to come with us.” 

“But, we can’t just leave him.” You brushed the back of your hand against Asmo’s cheek, reeling back as the heat from him almost burnt you. 

This only convinced Belphie to squint harder. “He’s dangerous.” 

“You’re all dangerous and yet apparently it doesn’t seem to phase me anymore.” At times like these, you found standing your ground and just being stubborn was enough to win you plenty of debates with these eternal beings. Belphie especially was much too tired to try to win you over. 

“Fine, but you owe me.” 

You beamed, coaxing a touch of pink in his cheeks. “Thank you!” He slinked away, his brother following after him. A frown stretched over your face. With the added noise gone, Asmo’s shallow wheezing breaths were all too apparent. You got to your feet, flipping the rag draped across his head to the other side, then padded over to the cupboard settled against the far side of the room. It opened with a slight squeak, causing you to wince as you glanced back over your shoulder to make sure your patient was still sleeping. Luckily, he didn’t stir, although for this to work, he might have to. You gripped the medicine bottle in your hand, giving it a slight shake. There was enough for perhaps one or two more administrations. Hopefully whatever this was wasn’t too expensive, seeing as how the whole family had gone through the whole thing in a few weeks. Before you dealt with that issue, you quickly went to turn off the overhead light in your room, simply turning on a side lamp, a soft glow illuminating what you needed it to. Your eyes thanked you for the lessened strain. As you turned on the pads of your feet, you noticed Asmo was now on his side, facing away from you. With a few quiet steps, you were back at the bedside. “Asmo?” 

Your fingers outstretched, reaching for his shoulder, but he would not let you near him. “Don’t look at me!” The voice was strong enough to push you back, falling back onto the floor. A high pitched noise caught your attention. The glass in your hand as well as your mirror on the other side of the room had a new thin crack in it. 

The heart in your chest was pounding, but you tried to shake out of it. “Asmo, fighting me is taking up your strength.” Cradling the medicine bottle against your chest, you got back to your feet. 

Asmo pulled the covers up over his head. “Don’t look at me, don’t look at me, don’t look at me!” You’d shifted your stance beforehand to keep your balance, the wave of magic wobbling you, but not knocking you over. The lights flickered, and with it, you caught an idea. 

“What if I turn the lights off? I won’t look at you, okay? I just want to help you feel better.” Keeping your sight on him, you walked backwards. As your hip met the furniture, you swiveled to turn the lamp off. It just so happened to be cloudy tonight, the dark clouds coating the moon, again, much like the night Belphie had sleepwalked into your room. Blanketed in complete darkness, only now you were the one stumbling towards the figure in the bed. You walked forward slowly until your knees came into contact with the mattress. Even here you could feel the rolling waves of heat come off of him. “I cannot see a thing, not even my own hand in front of my face,” you whispered to him, your arm waving in the air till you found his body. He was letting you touch him, that was a good sign. It took a moment before you found his shoulder, gently guiding him to lay on his back. You trailed your touch up to his neck before coming up to lightly touch his face. Hot moisture coated your fingertips. For a second, you thought it was sweat, but then you heard the demon take a shaky inhale as his body hitched. Panic struck your body all the sudden, your thumb brushing just under his eyes. “Are you crying? Asmo, no, no no no, it’s okay.” 

He whimpered, leaning into your touch. “I-I-I-I’m sick and-and-and unsightly--”

“Hey, hey,” you cooed. “Take a deep breath.” He followed your advice, his chest shuddering. “I’m sorry you’re sick...but we can’t change that now. We just have to focus on getting you well again.” Reaching around to support the back of his head, you helped him up into a slouched position. Although, you struggled to find his hand. When you did, his fingers instinctively went to curl around yours. You hated to disappoint him by replacing your grasp with the medicine bottle. “This should help. I’d, uh, take about half of it.” He took it away from you, and you assumed that he’d brought it to his lips. It was a few seconds before the smooth glass touched your skin again. Taking it back in your possession, you discovered it was a lot lighter than you expected. Moving it around in your hand, you felt no liquid slosh inside. “I said half, Asmo!”

“There was hardly anything in there and I need what I can to go back to my beautiful self!” 

“That’s not how--” You sighed, letting the empty bottle settle on the floor. “No one is pretty when they’re sick, but that’s okay. It’s alright to be unsightly sometimes.” The mattress bobbed as Asmo laid back down, getting as close as he could against your body. “But even so, you’re pretty all the same” 

His hand smacked against your knee as he tried to find you, his touch searching for yours. “I can’t be both...am I beautiful or ugly?” He really couldn’t understand what you were trying to say. Maybe one day you’d be able to convey your thoughts properly. 

As soon as you touched his wrist, he slid his fingers up to weave through yours. “You’re always beautiful, Asmo. Always. A little sickness won't stop you. But for now, your beautiful body needs some beauty sleep.” You squeezed his hand. “I’ll be right by your side.” The medicine seemed to already be working, and you pinned it in the back of your mind to tell Lucifer about his mishap later. He curled into a tighter ball, snuggling up against your legs. 

“It’s not...fair,” he whined, voice almost slurring with sleep. “I don’t...deserve this...I wish I was...as beautiful...as you.” Your chest tightened, but you kept your mouth closed. His grip had already slackened, and you could hear the deeper slower breaths as you came to the conclusion that he had fallen back asleep. 

Feel better, Asmo. I’ll be here till you do. 

                 ______________________________________

@cinnamon-bisquit​

[rachelbethhines]

Tangled Salt Marathon - Rapunzeltopia

This episode, much like many other plot important episodes of the first two seasons, is decent on it its own, but becomes retroactively worse due to season three’s bad writing and behind the scenes bullshit. 

Summary:  Matthews reveals himself as another dark spirit and disciple of Zhan Tiri, and traps Eugene, Lance and the others in unbreakable vines similar to the Great Tree's evil magic. He has Rapunzel live the perfect life while he prepares to hand over the mystical powers of the Sundrop to his master. Fortunately, Rapunzel is able to make contact with her brown-haired dream self and attempts to convince her to let go. 

Timeline Alert

So what does almost a year ago mean? The Great Tree was six months out, and then in Mirror, Mirror, Lance said that they been fighting for three weeks since. So how long have then been stuck in this shell house? Because You’re Kidding Me was just the next day after Mirror, Mirror. Was Lance’s ‘three weeks’ comment meant to be after Brothers Hooks and Rapunzel: Day One and not Great Tree? Are we 7, 8, 9, or 10 months out from Secret of the Sundrop? Like be clear about your time frame guys if you’re going to use it as a plot point. 

I’m going to say we are 9 months along on this trip, just cause that sounds closer to ‘almost a year ago’ without keeping them all trapped in the shell house for months. So Great Tree is 6 months, Brother’s Hook and Rapunzel Day One is 7 months, Mirror, Mirror is going on 8 months, and at the end of this episode they’ll be heading into the 9 month period...I guess. Lets just say they were trapped there for a week or two. 

This Episode Only Highlights How Self Centered and Immature Rapunzel Still Is Rather Than Showcase How Much She’s Grown 

The point behind this episode is show how much Rapunzel has grown since season one, and how she is accepting of responsibility now, but it actually backfires because she’s not actually being challenged on her selfish desires but on her lack of agency. Which is the wrong lesson that she needs to be learning at this point in her development.

Rapunzel in her subconscious mind doesn’t wish for what’s best for other people but what’s best for herself. People she must interact with on the regular have to be superficially happy even if it completely warps their character. While people she doesn't care about, like Lady Caine, can just be simply banished and ignored regardless if they deserve such an end or not.  She doesn’t see people as people with individual thoughts and feelings, but as satellites to herself and her narrow worldview.  

 Also, ‘I believe everyone deserves a second chance’ my eye! Caine never gets even a first chance in Rapunzel’s own fantasy world. Because Rapunzel is a selfish hypocrite who’s ‘redemptions’ always comes with strings attached. 

Here Comes the Dumbest Plot Point In the Show

I’ll talk about this more when we get to season three, but this scene is the beginning of the end for any dignity the show once held. 

Also why would ‘I don’t trust anyone’ Cassandra follow a creepy voice calling her name through a doorway inside a magic house that’s tried to kill her twice now? 

If you gotta make you character act out of character in order to get your plot rolling than you haven’t a good plot. Think of something else. 

What’s the Point of Having Two Names? 

They did this both with Sugarbee and Matthews here and it makes zero sense. Why would they need to bother with fake names if the heroes wouldn’t even recognize their real names to begin with? Such revelations add nothing and fails to tell the audience anything new about the characters.  It’s also not consistent as it turns out Gothel was a disciple too and she only gets one name, so what gives? 

So How Does This All Work Again?

So Zhan Tiri needs ‘a clash of the sundrop and moonstone’ in order to be freed from her prison. Why? I don’t know, but holding Rapunzel prisoner for life actually undermines that plan, and it’s a plan that Zhan Tiri is currently setting up with Cassandra off screen during all of this. 

So does Tromus/Matthews just not know that Zhan Tiri is already ‘free’ and has her own plans?

Is Rapunzel’s power being drained what gives Zhan Tiri a foothold in the real world?

Or was Zhan Tiri released back in the Great Tree with the removal of the spear and that’s why she knows to go after Cass? 

What was up with the Great Tree and the sealed tree back in Painter’s Block? Did they have any impact on Zhan Tiri’s plans?  

Were any of the disciples actually useful at all? 

So What Do the Disciples Gain From All This?

Sugarbee, Matthews, and Gothel were all once real people who actually lived so what are their reasons for following Zhan Tiri? What do they gain from going through such complicated plans? Why continue to follow someone after you’ve been dead for centuries and are a ghost now, and were presumably trapped and or killed by Demantius for following her? Real people don’t just hold on to such fanatical devotion without reason. 

This Conflict Over Choices Does Not Work Without Varian

Going back to how this episode fails to develop Rapunzel; it wants to have Rapunzel take responsibility for difficult choices, but much like Painters Block, it completely ignores her biggest fuck up thereby undermining why she has trouble with owning up to hard choices.  

Rapunzel ruined a child’s life. She may not have meant to but she did, and thus far she has done nothing to make amends for it. She’s not even spared the poor boy a single thought beyond seeing him as the boogeyman in a nightmare once. 

You can’t have Rapunzel take responsibility for anything if you won’t hold her accountable for anything.  

Varian was meant to appear in this episode, and indeed he should have for the above reason. 

But of course Chris had to give us a bullshit excuse for why he cut the most plot important character from the series. 

I’ve already spoken about how Varian’s cameo in Happiness Is did nothing to actually further develop Rapunzel nor explore her guilt back in that review. In this episode, however, I want to discuss how hollow the comparisons to Gothel is and why there shouldn’t logically have been any competition between the two. 

Varian and Gothel provide two completely different conflicts and two completely different points of development for Rapunzel’s arc. Gothel is the instigator of her conflict with Rapunzel. Rapunzel, as the victim, has only one thing to learn, self esteem. She learned it back in the movie, she relearned it back in the season one, and here she’s re-contextualizing it for this episode’s mini-arc. 

Meanwhile Rapunzel is the instigator of her conflict with Varian. She’s the one with the power in their relationship and her choices matter. She doesn’t need to learn agency because she already has it. What she needs to learn is responsibility and she can’t do that without confronting Varian and what she did in some manner. So unlike with Gothel there only new ground to cover here rather than rehashing old conflicts. 

Chris Sonnenburg has things all backwards. Rapunzel’s agency/self-esteem issues and her need to take responsibility for her actions are not interchangeable conflicts. Addressing one does not automatically address the other, and of the two her conflict with responsibility holds more weight because it’s ongoing. We haven’t seen the resolvement there. It also affects more people than just herself so the stakes are higher there as well. And to top it all off, it fits with the themes of the episode better. 

Also, you very much could have had both characters because they both reflect different conflicts and serve different purposes in the narrative. Time management in television is a very big deal yes, but you have little grounds for defense when all you’ve shown is how poorly you’ve managed your time until now. 

In short, Chris is full of shit. 

No, It Wouldn’t

We’ve already established that there’s no need for Rapunzel to go on her quest in season two. The black rocks are inactive, there’s no ticking clock she has to beat, and her staying at home would have actually prevented the conflicts in season three. 

Unless dream Rapunzel is referring to Zhan Tiri being released, but even that is false because Zhan Tiri is already floating around a little blue ghost girl off screen right now. What Rapunzel choses or chooses not to do does not change that. 

Lack of external conflict undermines internal conflict.  

Just Cause You Make A Meta Joke About Your Heroes Being Dumb For No Reason, Does Not Make Them Any Less Stupid 

Jokingly admitting a fault in your writing doesn’t not excuse that fault. If you can’t have a plot without handing the idiot ball to your characters than you haven’t a good plot. Time to go back to drawing board. 

Season Three Will Go Back On This Episode’s Message and Prove the Villian Right

I’ve liget seen fans unironically praise the show for it’s message of ‘be content with what you have’. Not only is that a terrible lesson to teach children; it’s actually the exact opposite of what the show is trying to achieve.

“Be satisfied” is suppose to be the wrong motto. Rapunzel is suppose to be fighting against this message. In the episode itself it’s the villian who is saying such things in order to tempt her to stay put. 

So how could anyone look at the show as a whole and come away with idea that the one off villain was right along? 

Because season three does a complete 180 away from its original messages regarding agency and responsibility. All consequences disappear from the story and the mains are given convenient scapegoats to distract from their decisions. Characters actively regress and are rewarded by the narrative for either not doing anything or for victim blaming others for their actions. 

But most damaging of all is the fact that nearly everyone winds up back where they started out at, or aren’t given a proper ending at all. Tangled’s story is just one giant circle and that in of itself contradicts the idea of progress.  

Cassandra’s Hurt Hand Is Only Relevant When The Story Wants Rapunzel to Feel Guilty About Something  

Oh but we can just throw Cassandra’s burnt hand in here as a substitute Rapunzel’s guilt over Varian. Even though the two incidents should actually complement one another rather than compete for dominance. 

Tangled doesn’t trust its audience to remember things. It acts like if it’s off screen or not being focused upon than it’s not happening or isn’t relevant. This undermines any ongoing or overarching conflicts.  

Why should we care about Cassandra’s arm if she’s been shown as being fine with it for four episodes by now? Especially since it’ll never come up again after this point? And on the flip side of things, why should the audience not care about the 15 year old who has been sitting in a dungeon for almost a year now due to Rapunzel’s neglect?  

We’re not magpies who are quickly distracted by shiny new things. We are capable of retaining information and informing decisions based off of that. Especially if Chris was shooting for the teen audience as he claims he was. 

Oh But We Got Time For Godzilla-Pascal 

Can’t spare even half a minute for a Varian cameo that would be relevant, but we sure got time to waste on a pointless action sequence that does nothing to further the character in what is meant to be a character development episode. 

This Scene Is Out of Character 

That’s not how abuse works! 

The whole reason why Gothel was able to keep Rapunzel under her thumb for 18 years because Rapunzel always sought her approval. Never at any point, even when finally choosing to break away from her in the movie, did Rapunzel wish to harm the woman. That goes against who she is as a character and it’s not how abuse victims respond to abusers even after cutting things off with them. 

If anything, Rapunzel’s treatment of Frederic in Happiness Is is more in line with how a victim goes about mourning the loss of an abusive relationship. Victims grieve for what might have been. Victims mourn the loss of what good times they had with their abusers, because yes, abusers aren’t abusive 100% of the time 24/7. They can’t be or they risk losing their victim quicker.  

I initially was ok with flashbacks to Gothel on occasion because no victim ever makes a completely clean break from their abuser. Even ‘moving on’ isn’t some triumphant singular action when you stand tall while you knock your opponent down in a wish fulfilment fantasy.

No. ‘Moving on’ is slow. It’s understated. It’s routine. It’s about being able to do the dishes without getting triggered. It’s sitting at lunch with friends and being happy and calm without the fear of returning home hanging over your head. It’s not skipping out on work because your anxiety is through the roof over just meeting with your boss. It’s not devolving into a yelling match over something minor because you internalize your abusers behavior.  

Abuse victims don’t celebrate violence as strength. We celebrate being an unmovable mountain of clam fortitude. Being in control even as the world rages at us, because we’re self assured. 

The fact that this scene exists, while Happiness Is shows Rapunzel behaving the opposite way to the father who abused her the same as Gothel did, only proves that a man shouldn’t have been in charge of this show. Certainly not without a woman by his side giving equal input. 

Stop Using Destiny as a Shorthand for Everything!

Destiny isn’t a catch all word that can mean whatever you want it to. Words have definitions for a reason. Destiny isn’t a goal nor does it equate to agency and responsibility; kind of the opposite in fact. 

Well That Was Redundant

All we did was rehash Rapunzel’s season one arc in under half in hour. Nothing new was learned. It’s like writers don’t know how to resolve any conflict that isn’t a repeat of the first movie. Meanwhile actual unique conflicts are just sitting off to the side being ignored. All because the show’s creator doesn’t want to hold his precious self insert accountable for anything. 

Bye Bye Smart Cass, Hello Dumb Cass

So from this point onward the Cass we’ve known for nearly two seasons is gone. She’s just been replaced by the dumbest bitch on the planet. Because the writers don’t understand how manipulation and trauma actually works. Nor do they comprehend the importance of giving characters actual goals.  

Conclusion 

Season three is what retroactively spoils this episode. Cass’s dumb decision here, Zhan Tiri’s lack of a coherent plan, the uselessness of the disciples, and even the lack of Varian could have been glossed over had they writers given us a satisfying pay offs for any of the main conflicts. But they didn’t and so here we are. 

Also a small update, but after this review and starting next week, the Salt Marathon will go from bi weekly updates to only one a week. This is a combination of real life work getting in the way and the growing length of the reviews. This means we’ll hopefully be done come March, which would mark the show’s anniversary. I got some plans to celebrate if that works out. 

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Undercover Lover prt 10

10

Hannes wasn’t as Levi expected. Much older than Eren, the man seemed like a father figure to the now mostly unconscious Eren in the front of Levi’s car. Calling the number listed online for him, he’d had to start snapping at the receptionist before she’d take him seriously and put him through to Hannes. In his mind he didn’t quite sure what he’d conjured up about the man’s possible appearance, yet it wasn’t greying blond hair with a thin moustache, and the kind of aura you’d find radiating off the local drunk. Explaining he was in the car park with Eren Kruger, and giving a basic symptom rundown, Hannes seemed to have dropped everything to come to them, huffing and red faced as he gripped his chest.

Standing by the passenger door, Levi itched to do something. He’d held back smoking, as it seemed rude to smoke while Eren sat slumped in the seat beside him

“Levi... I assume... I’m Hannes...”

Hannes didn’t hold his hand out, Levi hadn’t wanted to shake it anyway

“He didn’t want to go to hospital. He’s been denying he’s sick”

Hannes nodded, squatting down to start examining Eren. Levi cringing in sympathy over the way Hannes’s knees cracked

“I did see him the other day. I have a fair idea what this is. He was supposed to come back and see me. You said he’s been vomiting?”

“Blood nose. Dizziness. Vomiting. Fever”

“Right. Help me get him up. Stupid damn fool. Always been a headstrong idiot”

So Hannes had known Eren for some time. Levi didn’t want to admit his alpha felt a little insulted. He nearly growled when Hannes helped him manoeuvre Eren out of the car to be supported by the two of them. He shouldn’t pry...

“You’ve known him for a while?”

“You could say that. You work for Rod?”

“Yeah. That’s how I know him”

“Ah! You must be the new hire. He mentioned he might have made a new friend. He could use a friend or two these days”

Levi’s heart went funny. The weird beat hard as his alpha puffed itself up with pride at being mentioned

“He mentioned me?”

“In passing. He mentioned it was nice not to be the newbie anymore”

Oh... was that all? Levi didn’t really want to talk about it anymore. Eren called him a friend, but he was hardly winning any awards. The brat probably trying to be polite

“Someone’s gotta be saddled with the shitty jobs. Where are we taking him?”

“I left the wheelchair at the door. I’ll take him through once we get there”

With Eren wheeled away from him, Levi was left in the emergency department. Hannes might be his... primary physician? but the man had no sway in the ED. Wearing a mask, like everyone else waiting, Levi supposed it was best they all were given he could smell the anger rolling off him at the situation. Masks were mandatory seeing so many people passed through and not everyone used products to cancel their scent. He’d been in too many emergency departments, seen too many shitty things. The place always bring up bad memories he wished time would hurry up and eradicate from his mind. The sooner Hannes came back to him, the better he’d feel about the situation. Erwin still hadn’t messaged him back, Levi staring at the phone screen half hoping he wouldn’t. He should have trusted Eren to tell him in his own time...

Left in the waiting room until his phone was barely hanging on at 3 percent, Hannes finally came out through the door seperate by the emergency department from the waiting room. The man scrubbing his face tiredly. Levi jumping to his feet, before correcting himself, trying not to look too worried for a man he barely knew. The last time he’d been this worried and worked up was when Farlan and Isabel had rolled their piece of shit car just after Isabel got her licence

“How is he?”

Sighing heavily, Hannes rubbed his face again. Levi semi wanting to shake him for sighing and not answering immediately. Obviously the man cared a lot for Eren

“He’ll be out this afternoon. Refuses to take time off work...”

That was fine and all, but that didn’t tell him what was wrong with Eren

“And?! He’s been sick for weeks”

Hannes chuckled. Levi supposed he had sounded a little whiny

“He’ll be fine. A bacterial infection, nothing antibiotics won’t knock on the head. We’ll monitor him for a few hours and if he’s doing better, he’ll be released. He’s been avoiding come back in since his medical. Now, do you have a few moments? I’d like to ask you more about how Eren is doing these days”

Unable to cast a glance back past Hannes without either leaning sideways or standing tip toe, Levi guessed he wouldn’t be seeing Eren again for the day

“I... don’t know if should”

“Humour an old man? I’ve known Eren since he was born, but he doesn’t open up much. Won’t talk about work or what he’s gotten himself into now”

Levi didn’t want to invade Eren’s privacy, buuuuut, he also wanted to know more about him, and not just what Erwin found out

“I suppose I can spare a little more time”

“Excellent. I had assumed you’d be the one taking Eren home, but not to worry. Thankfully I had a mostly clear schedule this afternoon, I’ll show you through to my office”

Great. He didn’t mind taking Eren home. Eren would probably protest and snark. At least the infection had been found and he’d be treated for it... Provided the kid could look after himself enough to take the shitty medication prescribed.

“Lead the way”

*

Hannes’s office suit was modest. A few drooping plants sat between blue waiting chairs. The walls decorated with outdated inspirational quotes. Waving at his rising receptionist, the woman dropped back down as Levi trailed after Hannes

“Just through here, it’s a bit of a walk. No one practices out of hospitals these days like they used to”

The alpha had no response for that. He had the feeling Hannes wasn’t an ordinary GP, which was confirmed when he stepped into the examination room and was confronted with all sorts of posters about beta dynamics

“Take a seat. Scotch or... scotch?”

Frowning heavily, Levi knew for a fact doctors weren’t supposed to be drinking at work. Hannes laughing at his expression

“Late nights can get pretty boring. I take it that’s a no?”

“I’m alright, thank you”

“You can take your mask off. We’ve got scent cancellers in the room”

He’d rather keep his mask on. The place might be organised, but who knew how many germs were slithering across the surfaces in the room. Still, he was the one that’d followed Hannes, he should at least be civil. Taking the mask off, he stuffed it in his pocket, the air indeed devoid of most scents, but he was struck by how strongly his own scent was flowing off him. He smelt worried, setting off his alpha despite the fact it was own scent.

Pouring himself a shot of scotch, Hannes quickly downed it before placing the bottle and glass away in the bottom drawer of his desk

“That’s better. Now, Levi, tell me how you know Eren”

“I met him at the garage. He was stuck babysitting me”

The pout in his tone was clear, Hannes chuckling

“You’re the new hire. He said as much. Does he do a good job?”

“He takes pride in what he does. No one works as much, or as hard, as he does”

Levi felt pride in how hard Eren worked. He could slack off, but instead he put everything he had into the garage

“He’s always been like that. He was never the best and brightest, but what he lacked he made up for in determination. Has he spoken of his past?”

“He tends not to”

Eren was a mystery in so many ways. For instance why he was drawn to the man who was ridiculously fucking tall in comparison

“Ah. Well. I suppose with a past like his... He’s not one to open up about what he wants. Hell, we’ve all tried to support him, but he insists on going it alone...”

Levi nodded

“Yeah. He’s been fucking sick for weeks. Wouldn’t listen to anyone about it”

“Hmmm... And the garage?”

“He’s been coming to work, if that’s what you mean?”

“I mean does he get along with the alphas there?”

What kind of a question was that?

“You’re always going to have a pissing match when you’ve got a group of alphas. I wouldn’t say he’s close to anyone”

“He’s close to you”

“That’s because he got stuck showing me the ropes”

“And did those ropes involve the two of you ending up in bed?”

Levi spluttered. How the fuck did Hannes know about that?!

“I suspected it was you. I caught your scent on him when he came in for his medical”

Fucking sprung

“That was a drunken accident. Neither of us know how it happened”

A strange expression crossed Hannes’s face, the man turning his attention to his computer. If he had something to say, he should just spit it out rather than pussyfooting around

“Look, you dragged me here to ask me about Eren, knowing as much as you did. Isn’t it about time you told me what was going on!?”

“I’m afraid that’s for Eren to explain. I will tel you there’s been a shift in his dynamic since meeting you. That’s to be expected when a dominant alpha comes into the workplace. Do you mind if I take a swab of your glands?”

“Do you mind if I tell you to fuck off if you’re going to keep evading my questions?”

Most people would have been upset, Hannes laughing almost merrily

“Oh, I can see why you two get along. Look, Eren has a complicated past. He’s not one to get close to anyone anymore. He’s been dumped and cheated on, been accused of some pretty serious stuff. I’d like to know more about the man he’s gotten close to”

Levi felt instant anger. If you weren’t happy in a relationship then the only logical thing to do was leave, not fucking sleep around

“There isn’t romantic there, if that’s what you’re reply”

“I’m hoping for his happiness. I know the garage isn’t exactly legal. I know the kinds of people Rod employees, and I know Eren keeps saying he only needs to stick it out a few more months, but I care about him like he was a son. Do you see where I’m going with this?”

“You don’t want a ruffian like me fucking him up”

“There’s that. For a beta, Eren has an unusual constitution. He’ll never ask for anything, leaving him to be fucked over when things go wrong. I’m honestly relieved he’s found someone to be there”

Eren was a beta? That made no sense. Beta’s didn’t hiss or growl. Nor did they leak scent... He must be a beta-alpha who’d slid closer towards beta on the scale. Without scent cancellers, the slide in dynamics was pretty common until people became bonded with their partner

“So this change in dynamic, is it physically affecting him?

“More so than I’ve ever seen...”

Levi’s stomach dropped. His presence clearly making Eren ill, and Eren hadn’t said a damn thing. Hannes continuing

“... that’s why I’d like to swab your scent glands, with permission”

Levi had had no clue. No clue he was making Eren sick... Did Eren know? Was there more to this than a claimed “infection”? Like the change in dynamic had left his immune system weakened? Levi had always been a dominant alpha since he’d presented, not that people could usually tell from his short stature. Normally he wouldn’t be so ruffled, yet this was the first time he’d known his presence to make anyone physically ill. His alpha felt stricken to the point of near dramatics over this turn in events

“I didn’t... I didn’t know. I use cancellers...”

“I’m sure you do, but they can also be rendered ineffective on some dominant alphas”

“Uh. Yeah. I mean, if it’ll help him out...”

“Excellent. Now, this won’t hurt a bit. I’ll get it out the way and send it off for processing, then we can kick back until they let me know it’s time for Eren to be released”

Wait? How was being around him going to make Eren feel any better?

“Should... I really be around him if I make him ill?”

“I can’t let him go home alone. He’ll need rest and plenty of fluids. I’ll also need to give you a letter to hand to Rod to explain Eren’s absence. Rod might think him violent, but I’m sure there’s more to the story than what meets the eye”

“Is that something to do with Eren’s past?”

Hannes seemed flustered at Levi pulling him up

“Ah, I’ve said too much. You’re best off talking to him, but don’t be to surprised if he brushes it off. He seems to be the only one who knows anything about what actually happened, and tabloids always blow things out of proportion. You can’t always rely on what’s reported. Think of it as doing this old man a favour”

He didn’t owe Hannes anything. Nor was he about to do him a favour. Having Eren now pushed onto him, that’d mean taking Eren back to his apartment as there was no way the beta was handling stairs in his condition. No. He’d do Eren the favour and repay his kindness that first night, but Hannes had nothing to do with it. As it was, he really shouldn’t be consenting to anything

“Tch. Fine. Let’s just get this shitty test out the way”

[blackcatmanor]

RWBY Volume 7, Episode 7 Visual Review (Spoilers)

I have been lurking around RWBY tumblers for some time so I thought it was time to join the convo. If you want to see a review and pics of Ep. 7 click below. 

The good:

1.      Characters that are done right.

a.      Ironwood- Tin Man was so greatly written this episode, second to Nora. We got a lot of anger, desperation, and even PTSD from him. He shows symptoms of PTSD with reasonable triggers- seeing the monitors causes him to flash back to the Queen logo that Salem taunted him with at Beacon. I also like his internal conflict about having morals and humanity because he wonders if it disadvantages him versus Salem. It’s an interesting angle to take and hopefully will be explored more hopefully without having him go fully off the deep end.

b.      Nora- She is MVP of the episode. I appreciate how much she cares for marginalized people and she confronts Ironwood in a really brave and logical way. However, I didn’t like how Ruby literally tacks onto the end (putting her hand on Nora’s shoulder to add “this plays into Salem’s hand”). Nora did all of the heavy lifting but Ruby tried to step in with her cliché “I’m the protagonist and have to make my speech seem leveled and calm so you trust me” bit. I’m glad it didn’t work and Ironwood pressed on with his orders.

c.      Bumblebee- I appreciate Blake and Yang actually getting some screen time to TALK and flesh out their relationship. Clearly killing Adam is weighing on Blake and it was nice to see her bring it up, as well as express her frustration with doing things that, while good intentioned, aren’t right to her. It’s nice to see Yang is open to taking a different path after Blake confronted her. This was a nice issue that they talked through to advance and grow as a fledgling couple.  

This has been a big annoyance I had with the Blake and Yang pairing: they had SO MANY issues after V3 that never was addressed. With how angry and betrayed Yang was, the writers built up the feeling that there would be a pretty epic fight between them for TWO volumes and it didn’t pay off. They just literally ignored it like it never happened and went straight into giving each other flirt eyes and going on dates. I hope this is intentional, that they are ignoring and repressing their issues and problems for them to blow up later but I doubt it. But this episode is a step in the right direction for establishing an actual relationship between two complicated characters.  

2.      Story and lore done right.

a.      Penny- The writers did a good job of writing themselves OUT of a corner with Penny. I always thought Penny would come back because she’s a robot, but I also understood how fans felt like it a cheap ploy to hit people emotionally only to basically retcon it away. HOWEVER, the reveal that Pietro’s aura is used to create Penny each time, and he doesn’t have any more to give is interesting and a really effective way to explain why she did come back, but also why it is not an unlimited plot button they can keep pressing.

That being said the line about him not having any more aura to give Penny gives me huge death flags for her. Unfortunately, if she dies again it won’t have the same impact. Sure it’ll be the “for realsies last time” she dies, but since we already went through that it won’t matter the same way it did before. If anything, I hope they turn the death flags on their head a little bit and kill off Pietro. Not that I WANT to see him die, but *if* someone has to for the story, Pietro dying will put a whole new layer of complication into Penny’s existence and make it feel like there are stakes to Penny’s life again.  

The Bad:

1.      Story stuff done wrong.

a.      You tease- Once again we ended on a cliffhanger last episode that teases combat but doesn’t deliver. It would have been nice to see them help Mantle but with the reception of a very hostile Mantle citizenry.

b.      Mantle- Speaking of Mantle, an ongoing annoyance I have with this season is the lack of misery in Mantle. They keep talking about how miserable and struggling it is, but whenever they show shots of Mantle, it just looks like a city. It may not look like the nicest parts of a city, but it’s lacking the Misery factor. Maybe show abandoned or crumbling buildings, people en masse living on the streets, etc. Also having more shots in the day where you can see the bleak and sad nature would be nice.

2.      Character stuff done wrong.

a.      Happy Huntresses- Robyn’s crew have awesome semblances and work in connection with one another- with one girl who can create a mirage to cover their heists and Fiona who can apparently zap away all of the goods into her black hole hand?! OMG!  Robyn’s lie detector semblance is neat, but doesn’t really fit with her heist team and it shows with how she just stands to the side and watches everyone else working, or she just yells orders at people. Speaking of Robyn...

b.      Robyn the Edgelord- I am having a really hard time liking her, with her  smarmy attitude and pithy little nicknames for everyone like Fistacuffs, and Pipsqueak and Wags. Is she SUPPOSED to seem douchey? I was hoping for a Dolores Huerta-infused Robin Hood: someone with a passion for assisting the marginalized with a quick but powerful way of conveying her message but instead she’s just kind of a snarktopus.

c.      Ren the bummer- When did he become so Emo and angsty? He went from calm, zen ninja to hyper-antsy, wannabe Ace op kinda out of nowhere. Why? They keep making him turbo annoying without any reasoning, and then they cop-out of an explanation when Nora asks what’s wrong by having him say “I’m not good at talking.” They need to address this quick before it drags too long.

d.      Voice acting issues- Is Barbara’s voice acting is getting worse, or is the evolving tone of her character a bad fit? She was great as fun-loving party Yang in volumes 1-3, but all of the dramatic dialogue has been awkward and filled with pauses between words. I think Barbara equates dramatic performance with dramatic pauses. For instance, the line, “We did…….what we had to do,” and in episode 3 when talking about lying to Ironwood she says “Can we….talk about that again?” And two seconds later says “How did Oscar feel about that” in such a robotic tone it was jarring. No one talks like this. Are you forgetting the words you’re about to say as you say them?! What is happening?! I think Arryn does a good job at dramatic acting so the directors know what it sounds like. It’s getting distracting, especially with other talented deliveries in the show.

3.      Thoughts for the next episodes:

a.      It’s interesting that Qrow explicitly mentions that Atlas is Salem’s next target. With knowledge beforehand will it mean Atlas’ fate will be different than Beacon? (spoiler: Probably not).

b.      The Dinner with Jacques will be the perfect time to finally see Willow Schnee, and I hope they don’t blue balls us on this one, too. We could see her forced into the role of political wife, probably even more despondent and desperate than before.

[violethowler]

Alchemists and Paladins

This analysis is derived from @leakinghate‘s Seek Truth in Darkness post that breaks down the "errors” and discrepancies in Season 8 that point to the version we got in December being cut up and frankensteined back together in post-production. 

One of my big disappointments is that we never got on-screen acknowledgement of Shiro’s connection to the Black Lion following Season 6 despite the fact that he was still wearing the Black Paladin colors. While re-reading Leaking Hate’s meta, a few ideas occurred to me that helped me formulate a theory about Black Paladin!Shiro in Season 8.

Despite Shiro moving on from being the Black Paladin to being captain of the Atlas, the show persistently keeps everyone in their original uniform colors. While it could just be down to staying true to the original 80s show, the visual adherence to the Season 1 configuration is a pattern that persists all the way into at least Season 7, and a few times in Season 8. There are multiple times where the team is arranged according to the lion configuration, but Lance is still in the left leg spot that Allura, as Blue Paladin, should be in, even though he’s now flying the red lion (ex: the astral plane in S5E3). The same is also done for the red lion itself (ex: the roar during Shiro’s rebirth in S6E7) a few times in at least Season 6 and 7. Even in Season 8 itself we still see characters positioned according to the season 1 configuration:

Keith is on Shiro’s right side and Pidge is on his left, exactly like the Paladin configuration in Seasons 1-2. 

The marketing also emphasizes the original team lineup: 

In one of the two promo images released at NYCC, the team arrangement from left to right is Lance, Allura, Keith, Shiro, Pidge, Hunk. The incorrect order for the current pilot configuration, but still in the right order for the Season 1 configuration. 

The big NYCC poster shows the team, from left to right, as Hunk, Pidge, Shiro, Keith, Lance, Allura. Left leg, left arm, head, right arm, right leg. The correct order for both the Season 1-2 configuration, and the 80s configuration.

And in terms of the textual narrative, even in their new positions post-Season 3, Keith, Shiro, and Lance thrive in their new positions by relying on the textual attributes of their previous ones. Shiro’s battlefield promotion to captain of the Atlas comes from him acting a textbook black paladin: a born leader, in control, “someone whose men will follow without hesitation.” 

All of this indicated that we should have seen a return to the S1-2 configuration at least once in Season 8, but in the edited version we got in December at least, that never happened.

But if it was meant to happen in the original cut of Season 8, there is logistically only one place for this to happen: The Storming the Pyramid Sequence, as #TeamPurpleLion calls it. 

Leaking Hate has laid out a detailed, episode by episode breakdown of all the evidence of cuts and editing in the version of Season 8 released in December, and extrapolates a likely outline of what was supposed to happen based on what was edited, the story structure of the series overall, and the plot points introduced in the first half of the season that were subsequently left hanging.

Multiple plot points indicate that Lotor was still alive inside Sincline and was supposed to be rescued before the final battle:

Despite it ceasing to be relevant after Honerva’s flashback episode, there are two shots in “Genesis” depicting first the Atlas and then Coalition ships flying towards the Altean Colony planet. No one comments on this unexplained detour.

The other Alteans serving Honerva besides the ones who were held aboard the Atlas in the second half, Merla, and the other two Robeast pilots, are nowhere to be seen when Coran and Slav board the pyramid in “The Zenith”. Honerva’s comments about how only the two other Robeast pilots remained loyal indicate they all defected en masse, but we are not shown this.

When the Atlas arrives in Altea’s solar system, the first interior shots of the Atlas bridge have pink lighting accompanied by Lotor’s theme music, while the rest of the scenes in this section of “Uncharted Regions” have golden lighting.

“Uncharted Regions” opens with Honerva declaring that the Paladins know her plans is an advantage, echoing her son’s words before he tricks Voltron into retrieving the Sincline comet in S3E4, indicating that she intends to trick them into helping her. Her next appearance shows her in her new mech scanning for her perfect reality. She is then shown inside the pyramid saying that Allura is awake. There is no explanation for how she got back to the pyramid and changed back into her Altean garb despite the battle happening outside, nor do we learn why Allura is even necessary for her plans. The call back indicates that Honerva needs to accomplish something with Altean Alchemy that Allura can do that she cannot. 

There are at least two split-screen shots that are so heavily cropped to the point that Allura, Lance, and/or Hunk’s faces get cut off at the edge of the screen. If there were no other characters who needed to be removed, the shot would have been planned so that those cut-offs never happened.

There’s a total of 11 shots in the last three episodes where a character is off model, and their proportions are always wrong for a human but just right for a supposedly-dead-Lotor. (Things that give it away include broad shoulders, the character’s head being too small for the size the body is drawn, elongated arms, legs twice the length of the upper body, and in some shots, fangs.)

Lotor has no shadow when he appears alongside the deceased original paladins in the final episode, and his image is simply a stock photo from the official website with the leg slightly warped to hide the lack of shadow.

Lotor being healed and rescued neatly explains why Honerva needed Allura and considered the Paladins knowing her plans to be an advantage (because she cheated the trials of Oriande, she doesn’t have the power to heal Lotor herself, but Allura does, as demonstrated with the dead forest in “Launch Date”), where the remaining Alteans vanished to (they abandon Honerva after Lotor rejects her), and why the Atlas apparently makes a detour to the Colony (the Alteans  need to be dropped off somewhere safe before Lotor, Voltorn, and the Atlas can go back to face Honerva for the final battle).

But there are two things that still got me thinking about this outline:

With how powerful the Altean robeasts are shown in S7 and S8, it raises the question of how Allura was able to get from the Atlas to the pyramid without being spotted by Merla or the two other robeast pilots. Even if the Atlas was keeping them occupied, “Lion’s Pride Part 2” and “Genesis” have shown how much of a challenge it is for the Atlas and Voltron to defeat even a single Altean robeast, let alone multiple. So, somebody needs to form Voltron and keep the Robeasts busy so that Allura can storm the pyramid for her alchemist vs. alchemist rematch with Honerva in the first place.

As Leaking Hate mentions in their meta, many of the shots with a character having Lotor’s proportions are in paladin armor. Given the damage shown to Lotor’s uniform, in order for him to have something to wear in the final battle, it’s implied that he’s wearing what used to be the Black Paladin armor that Shiro wore during the first half of Season 7.

My argument is that if the visual adherence to the color scheme of the lions the team started out in was supposed to go anywhere, the only logical place for it to occur is during the sequence where they assault the pyramid and rescue Lotor:

Lance could volunteer to fly Blue so Allura can go rescue Lotor, Keith steps back into Red so Lance can fly blue, and Shiro steps back into the Black Lion to lead the team one more time.

Leaking Hate’s meta pointed out how the Beta-Four-Ex-Seven coordinates have pink lighting in the backdrop, fitting with Allura’s color scheme as well.

Since this is indicated to be the site of the big Alchemist vs. Alchemist rematch between Honerva and Allura, it would beautifully parallel their previous fight at the end of season 2: Voltron fighting a mecha created by Honerva (Zarkon’s armor, the Robeasts) while Allura faces the witch directly.

If Shiro wore the Black Paladin armor into battle one last time, then handed it off to Lotor for the final battle against Honerva, it would make a nice call back to when he gave Lotor the Black Bayard to use against Zarkon in “Blood Duel”.

It would also, in a way, be a nice callback to his line in S6E3 “I don’t know what’s more fulfilling than being a paladin” by showing that while he has found things that are just as fulfilling, he is still just as much a paladin as the others.  

In “Tailing a Comet” back in Season 3, Lance expresses thet Blue would take him back in a second if he asked, but he doesn’t want to stand in the way of Allura’s growth. If he pilots the Blue Lion while she fights Honerva, Lance would be stepping back into the role of Blue Paladin so that Allura can continue her growth and do something that only she can do.

While this part is hazier, an additional parallel that occurred to me would be if Allura was accompanied by a pair of Galra each time she confronted Honerva: in Season 2, she was accompanied by Kolivan and Antok. Considering their absence from the plot after Genesis, perhaps Acxa and Zethrid would have accompanied Allura to face Honerva in Season 8? 

While I can understand why some people thought the ship had potential, there was one detail I kept seeing everyone ignore that convinced me that Lance and Allura would never have worked out as a long-term relationship no matter what happened with Lotor. Leaving aside the fact that Allura doesn’t appear to be as interested in the relationship as Lance is, Alteans have already been established to have a life span measured in centuries. Coran himself is over six hundred years old, and Allura’s probably at least a century or two herself. Short of pulling some species-changing magic out of thin air to make Lance actually Altean and not just give him the markings, Allura is going to outlive Lance by several lifetimes regardless of their relationship status.

Throughout the season we got in December, Lance questions Allura’s choices. Hate’s meta outlines how Lance’s arc was meant to lead to him supporting her decisions. In addition to supporting Allura verbally when she argues for the rescue mission, he would be supporting her physically by offering to take her place in the Blue Lion for that battle, because while they are both Blue Paladins (just as Shiro and Kieth are The Black Paladins), rescuing and healing Lotor is something that only she can do.

It would also be an excellent reversal of an earlier point in the season: in Clear Day, Lance signing his name on all the Blue Lion plushies even though the current Blue Paladin is Allura feels like him selfishly trying to claim Allura as his own, while for the rescue mission, he physically “reclaims” the Blue Lion out of selflessness to both literally and symbolically let her go.

This is part educated guess and part wishful thinking on my part because I’m still salty that the visual adherence to the Season 1 configuration never went anywhere. There is no guarantee that any of this happened in the original cut of Season 8. But if the visual emphasis on the season 1 pilot configuration long after we’ve switched over to the one from the 80s was supposed to have any payoff, there is only one place in the original cut of Season 8 where it could realistically work. 

If you want to see what the original cut of the season looked like, then I highly recommend you sign the petition and and start writing letters to WEP. 

[rosesisupposes]

"I'll always be here for you" for logicality with patton angst 👀

Pattangst You Say? 😈 I see your Patton angst and raise you a Dark!Patton

Protective/Loyal Prompts

“I’ll always be here for you.”

word count: much longer than intended: 3,184 words

pairing: Logicality

warnings: Hurt/No Comfort;  Dark Patton; Blood/Injury; Manipulation/Abuse

reader tags: [PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS!] @residentanchor @royally-anxious @bewarethegrammarpolice  @jemthebookworm @arandompasserby  @sparkly-rainbow-salt @astral-eclipse​ @thelowlysatsuma @adorably-angsty 

I needed very little encouragement to do this and I got some anyway. 

>>read on ao3

Logan had been uncharacteristically clumsy lately.

The first time had been a lazy morning. He’d been up and about for a while when he returned to the kitchen for tea. Patton had been there, mixing up cookie dough. He’d heard Logan enter and turned from the counter, and the sunlight through the windows formed a nimbus of golden light around him. The brilliance was only rivaled by the smile. Logan had been caught in its entrancing glow, and felt the warmth of sunlight spreading on his cheeks. He’d only been called to the present when the mug in his hand suddenly was crashing against the island and the shards caught his hand.

Patton had immediately stopped what he was doing to run for the first-aid kit. He’d cleaned Logan’s cut and placed a Doctor Who bandage on it, then kissed it. “It makes it heal faster,” he’d said with a smile. For some reason his cheeks were pink as he spoke.

The second time, they’d just finished brainstorming a video downstairs and were making their ways back to their rooms. As Logan had walked down the hall, he’d heard a voice call his name.

“Logan! You did such a good job today! Thanks for being our resident genius!” Patton said with a wave. Logan had smiled and nodded as thanks, then promptly walked straight into his own bedroom door. Several minutes and an ice pack later, the bruise on his cheek was fading. The ice wasn’t enough to counteract the heat in his cheeks and Patton gently chided him to watch where he was going. It was just the embarrassment that made him blush, of course.

The third time, the others noticed. They’d been in the living room, discussing plans for the next week. Logan and Roman had started to disagree on priorities and gotten heated, loudly talking over each other. Roman was gesticulating flamboyantly when suddenly Patton spoke up. “I actually think Lolo has a point! Maybe we should go with his plan?”

Logan had turned to look over at the moral side. He’d been smiling back, a sweet expression reserved only for him. Logan felt heat rise in his cheeks again, and noticed nothing else. Or at least, almost nothing else. He dimly realized Roman had called to him and turned slightly, only to see a pencil seconds before it smashed into his face. He perceived a shocked and chagrined Roman, a shocked Virgil, and a concerned Patton already guiding him to the bathroom and the first-aid kit. “Thank you for your assistance once again, Patton,” he said. With his glasses removed, Patton was a blurry form in blue and grey with a surprising proportion of pink.

“Always, Lolo!”

It didn’t take long after that for Roman to confront him. In the true form of the creative side, he chose to do so in full view of all the light sides, in the middle of family game night.

“Logan, I’m amazed you’ve yet to drop all your cards tonight. You’ve been rather distracted lately, haven’t you?”

“Yes, it appears so. I have most definitely been having more than my normal amount of accidents. Perhaps whatever has been causing it has subsided.”

Roman rolled his eyes at Logan’s suggestion. “Patton, dear, do you think it’s been fixed?”

Patton started. “I, uh. I would think Logan would know best, wouldn’t he? He’s always so on top of this sort of thing.”

Roman watched as Logan’s blushing face swung towards Patton like a compass finding true north and rolled his eyes. “Hey, Professor Plum, if you’re so clever, why haven’t you told Patton you’re in love with him yet?”

Both bespectacled sides were suddenly staring at him, eyes wide and cheeks burning. Roman said nothing as he leaned back with a self-satisfied smirk. Slowly, Logan and Patton turned to face each other, recognizing the identical expressions they wore. Gaping mouths curved into smiles. Patton leaned in impulsively and kissed Logan on the cheek.

Virgil and Roman both took that as a cue to leave. “For the record, I still win the bet,” Virgil muttered. “I don’t care that it took five times longer than we thought, Pat still technically made the first move.”

Those first few weeks were a haze of hand-holding, furtive kisses that weren’t nearly as subtle as they attempted to be, and countless hours spent curled up with each other and soft, sweet words. Thomas was on vacation, and the lack of obligation gave his logical and moral sides uninterrupted time to bond as a couple and delight in one other’s company. The few days where Logan was needed, he was actually late. But what else could he do, when all he needed to do was turn back towards the couch to see huge brown eyes pleading him to stay and outstretched arms reaching for just one more hug? Logan returned from a one-on-one idea exchange with Roman only to be tackled by his boyfriend in a smattering of cheek kisses and delighted wriggles. Another instance, where he’d helped Virgil tamp down the rabbit holes of his anxious thought, he returned to Patton’s room and was pulled down into the tangle of pillows and blankets where the other man had been dozing. “You’re finally done! Now I get you all to myself again!” he laughed, squeezing Logan tight. Logan melted into Patton’s hold and curled up with him for another cozy night in.

With the end of vacation, there was a real schedule to maintain once more. Logan had more and more obligations to the other sides and to Thomas himself. The calendar had to be updated with deadlines and expected delays, videos needed to be edited for content and clarity, ideas needed to be amended or toned down for feasibility. Logan appreciated having the familiarity of a routine once more, but greatly appreciated those days set aside as date nights with Patton. Those weekly occurrences got time blocked off on the calendar, too.

And yet, despite the regular hum of productivity and the clarity of his feelings towards his new boyfriend, Logan’s clumsiness started to return.

First, the loose paper he hadn’t seen that was left on the stair. He’d stepped on it and slipped, slamming his back against the stairs and skidding down the remaining three to hit the downstairs landing. The thump had been heard throughout the house, but even though Virgil’s room was closer to the head of the stairs, Patton was the first to find him.

“Oh my poor Lo-berry. Here, let me get you some ice!”

“Thank you, Patton dearest.”

He’d had to rest on the couch for the rest of the afternoon, but Patton was there, fetching notes and food and staying at his side, the very picture of attentiveness and devotion.

Less than a week later, the tiles of the shower floor were far too slick. He’d stepped in the wrong spot and fell directly into the bar on the entrance, smashing against his forehead. Voices shouted in alarm outside the bathroom as the other three raced to help. But given the nature of the accident, only Patton had come in, carefully getting him clothed before bringing him downstairs for ice. Logan realized that trying to read or take notes or even look at screens was giving him headaches, so he spent the afternoon and evening tangled up with Patton, napping in turns and listening to rather than watching Disney movies.

Recovery came slower than he would have preferred- Logan was sorely behind schedule now, and needed to dedicate himself to catching back up. If he wasn’t on time, who would be?

With regret he found himself having to postpone date night one week, and then two. He made sure to remind Patton each day of his affection, but with deadlines looming there were fewer recitations of his qualities and more “I love you, see you later”s.

Then, one morning, he walked into the kitchen in his typical pre-coffee fog when he slipped on a puddle of spilled oil. Windmilling, he threw out a hand to break his fall, only to hit the open oven door. The burners weren’t on, but the metal had yet to cool, and Logan fell back in pain. Too nervous to try to stand up amid the oil slick, he was unable to get to the sink to rinse his burn. But through what could only be good luck, Patton had been awake to hear and came racing down the stairs, first-aid kit already in his arms.

“Oh my goodness gracious, my dear Lo, are you alright?”

“Patton, darling, thank you, can you help me up?”

Patton’s face was wreathed in concern as he rinsed the burn and wrapped it in soothing cream. “Maybe you should take the day off, Lolo. This can’t be a promising start.”

“Pat, sweet, I appreciate your concern. But thanks to your excellent nursing skills, I should be able to still get my work done.” He planted a kiss on his boyfriend’s forehead as he stood to head back to his room. “I’m almost caught up, and should be able to do date night tomorrow, okay? You’re my love!”

And he was able to. No disasters arose, and the ache in his arm wasn’t too distracting. He and Patton were able to relax together for hours on end, watching Sherlock and exchanging soft touches and looks. Patton looked happier than he’d been in weeks, and both Roman and Virgil stayed out of the living room to give them space. A tension Logan hadn’t consciously perceived melted away, making the very air feel lighter.

“I love you, Patton. Thank you for all your kind care recently, and your patience.”

“I love you too, my Lolo. I would do anything for you.”

As Logan dove back into the rigorous filming and editing schedule, he resolved to be more cautious. He didn’t want to cause Patton any distress.

His resolution mostly worked. There were some minor scrapes, but nothing serious. Patton, poor dear, was clearly so on edge that he arrived with the first-aid kit practically before Logan even got hurt. He was also very conscientious on Logan’s behalf of how many additional tasks the other sides needed him for.

“Hey Logan, can you look through these new ideas for me? I really think you’ll be impressed by the thought I put into them!”

“Ro, didn’t you just give him a whole stack of ideas on Tuesday? Give him time to catch up, okay?”

“Thank you, Patton - and yes, Roman, I will definitely get to those, but I won’t have time today.”

“L, Thomas needs to fly next week and I’m already freaking out, can we talk it out?”

“Virgil, whatever you-”

“Lo, aren’t you forgetting how packed your day is? I’m sure Virgil will be okay until you make some room, right?”

“Oh, yeah, I’ll be kay. No worries, Lo.”

But despite Patton’s help, the tasks piled up. Date nights were getting shifted again, and family dinners, and game nights too. One evening, Logan looked up at the clock only to realize that he was almost an hour late for movie night. He came rushing into the living room where Roman was reenacting his recent fight with the Dragon-Witch, sword in hand. Chuckling at his dramatic posturing, Logan walked over to the couch. Suddenly, his foot caught on something soft and he fell forward. He stepped quickly, trying to catch himself, but the trajectory of his fall brought him within range of Roman’s acting space. Logan’s hand, outstretched to catch himself, hit not solid ground or even Roman himself, but his sword, directly on the blade. Pain seared through Logan’s palm in a bright line as red blood spilled out, staining sword and carpet alike.

There was a moment of shock, then a cacophony of noise. Roman was spilling apologies, that he was so sorry, he thought he’d left enough room, oh my god Logan, are you okay? Please be okay! Virgil was frozen in fear, swearing repeatedly as he trembled, unable to think with blood spilt. Patton was the only one able to act. He pulled off his own sweater - for once, not the cat hoodie Logan had acquired for him - and wrapped Logan’s hand as he whisked him away to the bathroom to wash his wound and bind it up.

Sitting by the sink, Patton carefully sanitized and wrapped Logan’s hand, holding it gently.

“My Lolo, you really need to be more careful, Roman could have taken your whole face off!”

“I apologize if I have worried you, Patton. I appear to be somewhat uncoordinated lately. I haven’t the foggiest why, though. Last time it was because I was so enamored of you, but I am no longer confused by that, so what could it be?”

“Aww, Lo, you’re enamored of me?” Patton said, smiling

“Enamored doesn’t even begin to cover it. You’re my boyfriend, Pat, of course I love you.”

“I’ve been starting to worry, Lo, we’ve spent so little time together recently, with all the videos and schedules and setting up the office…”

“That’s only to be expected when Thomas has such hectic periods. Plus,” he added with a light chuckle, “my apparent inability to avoid accidents for more than a couple days straight means I keep needing your assistance.”

“I know,” Patton said. Something flitted through his eyes, but before Logan could discern its nature, his boyfriend was focused on the wound again, double-checking that the linen bandage was secure.

Logan helped clean away the stains and put Patton’s sweater in the wash before they both retreated to Logan’s room to recover from the excitement and terror of the evening. Lying in the quiet, Patton suddenly spoke up.

“Logan,” he said, seriously. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Patton”

“No, I mean it, Lolo. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Luckily,” Logan said with a reassuring chuckle, “we are both aspects of the same person’s identity. As long as there is Thomas, there is you, and me, and Virge and Ro.”

Patton’s face seemed to darken at the mention of the other sides. “You’ve needed to spend so much time with them lately.”

“Well, yes, they serve essential purposes in Thomas’ lifestyle, as we know. Particularly with all the editing recently, Roman’s needed my help quite a lot.”

“Isn’t it terrible, all that time you’ve spent helping him and today he nearly slices you open?”

“Pat, it was an accident. He didn’t mean any harm,” Logan said. “I’m fine now, thanks to your care.”

Patton relaxed once more, slipping an arm around Logan’s neck. “That’s right. I will always be here for you, to take care of you, to tend you when you’re hurt. Don’t forget that, okay?”

“How could I? All my silly accidents lately. I wish I knew who left that spill on the kitchen floor though, and with the oven open no less. If it was Virgil forgetting to clean up after a late-night snack…”

“Probably was. He probably didn’t even think of what a threat that was to you.”

“Well, not just to me. It would have been dangerous to any of us, I just tend to be the first to come downstairs.”

“I know”

“Pat, you’re always sleeping in, how would you know that?”

“Because I care about you, Lo,” he replied seriously. “More than they do. You know that, right?”

“Well, given our relationship, I suppose that would make sense…”

“No, you need to know, Logan. I care about you so much. I’m always thinking of you.” Patton’s voice had lost its warmth. Logan started to shift away, but the arm around his neck held him in place. He looked into Patton’s eyes to see a fierce light there.

“I never doubted your care, Pat. Never for a moment. And I myself feel the need to apologize.”

“What for, Logan my love?” Patton asked, softening once more.

“I can tell what a toll my work schedule has had on you, especially combined with my strange penchant for accidents,” Logan said, running a hand through Patton’s soft hair. “I’ve noticed how on edge you’ve been when I try to overcommit, and how overly-prepared you’ve been for even the slightest scratch. I appreciate it, dear one, but you don’t need to worry so very much.”

Patton’s hand had loosened around his neck, but had not fully moved away. “I’m glad you’ve noticed. I’ve been putting in a lot of effort for you. All this time you spend away from me, I don’t want you to forget how much I love you.”

“How could I possibly forget, dearest?” Logan said. There was an edge to Patton’s voice that gave him the slightest hint of unease. He rolled his shoulders and shifted closer, holding the other more fully in his arms.

“What else am I to think when you choose time with Roman over me, Lo?” The edge was still there. It should have been a whine to match his words, but it was too cold for that. “When you’re ready to cancel date night again thanks to Virgil’s paranoia? Have my grand gestures not been enough?”

“Grand gestures? I am unsure of what you mean - are you alright?”

“You haven’t even noticed?” Patton’s voice grew harder. “After all the planning I did? It was so precise, I thought you’d be proud of me. All my perfect timing, and careful maneuvering to make sure they only ever affected you? I wouldn’t do this for just anyone, Lolo. Only you. To make sure you take a break once in a while, even if you don’t want to.”

Logan noticed his own nervousness first, then realized the cause. He’d identified the nature of the flint-hard edge to Patton’s voice. It wasn’t a whine. It was a threat.

“Patton, I- what planning? What maneuvering?”

“I wanted to bring back the magic, Lo. From when I first knew you loved him. When I took care you through it all, and you were only mine.”

“When you first- my clumsiness, you mean? It’s just coincidence, Pat, the stress getting to me-”

“Logan!” Patton interrupted, eyes flashing. “How ungrateful can you be? It wasn’t coincidence! That was my planning! You think the oil was just left there, the oven conveniently hot but not scorching? A piece of innocuous paper that no one else slipped on? You didn’t notice that it was my foot you tripped on in the living room?”

Logan stared at Patton, eyes wide in fear. He’d been masterminding Logan’s terrible mishaps? Even tonight, when he could have collided with Roman’s sword with something far more fragile than his hand? He shifted, trying to move away, but Patton’s arms were around him like a vice, holding him in place. His breathing was becoming erratic as he stared into Patton’s eyes. When had the blue becoming so icy? When had the sunshine of his smile turned into pure heat, no longer warming but searing? “Pat- why?” he choked out.

“I’ll always be here for you, my Logan. No matter what.”

[exhaustedwerewolf]

Detroit: Become Human fans, please consider checking out C4/AMC Humans!

I’ve been meaning to make this post since D:BH’s release, but I just found out that Humans was canceled after three seasons, and in my grief, I’m going to finally deliver. I’m not sure what the overlap between these two fandoms is like because I’ve never seen anyone talking about it and couldn’t find any posts tagged with both, which surprises me a lot.

For those unfamiliar with either, both shows are set in a world where humanoid robots are commonplace as servants and members of the workforce, and what happens when some of these individuals begin to achieve sentience. Asides from the subject matter- so similar I literally don’t have to explain them separately- so many characters have parallel roles in the story, the commonalities, from the overarching themes, to the robot detective, to the blue blood, are practically endless. I really want to draw people’s attention to Humans, though, because in my opinion it’s a severely underrated show, and I think those who enjoyed D:BH would get more of what they loved from it, and those who had more mixed feelings about it would find Humans delivers where D:BH lacks.

Let me explain what I mean.

Warning, though, that this ramble won’t be spoiler free, so if you‘re interested in the show but don’t want to read any spoilers- I’d really urge you to give it a shot!

Also warning, I’m a little dismissive of D:BH here, but that’s not to say I dislike it or don’t think people should like it, etc. I’m just trying to explain why I think in some areas, Humans does better- ofc, Humans is a tv show and not a game that needs engaging gameplay and multiple endings, so it has opportunities D:BH doesn’t.

The Synths (Androids)

I’m not a huge fan of the way androids are presented in D:BH, and the reason I’d argue for that is Cage makes no real effort to “other,” them- in fact, he goes beyond the logical to make them as human as possible. Androids’ body language and movement, range of facial expressions, idiosyncratic habits like Connor’s coin flipping, tendency even, to lie down to rest... they endear them to the player, but they’re ultimately all superfluous. Why were these things programmed in? Why don’t they operate as economically as possible? Further, why do androids become deviant, and burst out of their programming? We’re told it’s due to “stress,” but why can they feel such stress in the first place, and why does it trigger sudden sentience? We never get a clear answer. It’s pretty unclear, admittedly, how sentient androids are before they become deviant in the first place- and I see where the game was coming from with that, however...

Synths in Humans are far more unsettling- the actors portray their movements with a jarringly uniform perfection. Their speech and facial expressions are far less emotional, because emotions were never intended for them. They can’t feel physical pain, (although incurring damage remains a stressful and frightening experience) because again, that was never intended for them, and so they have no mechanism by which to do so. This gives humans arguing that they’re only machines a lot more clout. Everyone has memories of blank slates who never laugh or smile, and who can be turned off with a tap under the chin, only to crumple like mannequins. There’s times when they’re presented to the audience as unapologetically eerie and even disgusting, and it’s easy to see, therefore, how they’re being perceived by the public as machines or monsters, which arguably, was somewhat less credible in D:BH, where even non-deviant androids were personable and warm, had the capacity to create art from their imaginations, etc. Letting synths be genuinely different to humans while still portraying them as sentient and deserving of rights, rather than just... “human, but mechanical,” gives the issue a lot more nuance and fuels the inclusion of elements like anti-synth propaganda, and counter-protest, which I’ll talk more about later.

(As a note, the “why” behind their sentience is also explained in a manner that was, imho, more coherent and satisfying.)

As I mentioned before, a lot of the characters have seeming direct parallels, so I’m going to take this opportunity to talk about a couple of characters in depth.

Niska

The blue-haired Traci’s appearance is one of the most controversial elements of the game, from what I’ve seen. The writers undeniably dipped their toes into multiple subjects fraught with heavy implications in her scene, but ultimately that was as far as it went- Traci and her lover only existed to further the narratives of Hank and Connor (and to provide a frankly fan-servicey fight scene while scantily clad in the rain, but hey, that’s neither here nor there.) To anyone who found this character interesting but ultimately underutilized, might I introduce you to the light of my life; Niska. Like Traci, Niska spends a stint as a prostitute, and ultimately kills one of her patrons and skips the joint. Like Traci, Niska is a wlw- although her relationship with her girlfriend comes a little later on in the show. Unlike Traci, Niska is one of the main protagonists of the show, and undeniably one of the most important- she holds everyone’s fate in her hands more than once, she’s fascinating from an emotional point of view- her traumas are confronted in depth and not dismissed- and her actions are very often a driving force in the plot line. Her relationship with her girlfriend is developed on screen, and in many ways, arguably the most important in the entire show.

Max

I‘ve seen criticism of the revolution storyline in D:BH in that violent protest always nets you a bad ending, and in that the peaceful route is arguably too idealistic.I’d posit Max’s storyline (and the effects of his dynamics with Mia, Niska, etc.) as a more nuanced exploration of the issue. There’s characters pushing for both paths and they’re all portrayed as understandable, and their reasons for pushing either a peaceful or violent agenda are present and reasonable. As similar as he might seem to Markus at first glance, I’d argue Max, soft-spoken, brotherly, and empathetic, is a very different kind of leader, so I’m hesitant to compare them too much. But it’s interesting to see a character like this in such a high-pressure leadership role, and I’d argue that this is a less rose-tinted look at compassion in the face of oppression and violence.

Sam

I’m not going to mince words on D:BH’s  Alice twist- to me, it felt inorganic and disappointing. I felt like the game withheld foreshadowing and intentionally misdirected the player to keep the reveal a surprise, and that really bothered me. However you feel about the Alice reveal, it’s undeniable that it is so late on in the game means that the whole idea of robo-kids being adopted into human families doesn’t really get explored in much depth. Humans gets more into the grit of this, discussing how a kid like this would be able to relate to kids and adults alike, what this strange form of “eternal youth,” would mean, etc. If that was an idea that interested you, you’ll get far more of it in Humans. 

This really isn’t where the parallels stop- like I mentioned, we have a robot detective with a really close relationship with their human partner (hannor shippers, I’m looking right at you) we’ve got themes of domestic violence and abuse, we’ve got separated families, we’ve got art and morality- I can’t be here all day, but I’ll say it like this; if it’s explored in D:BH, it’s probably explored in Humans, too.

The Humans

D:BH is very much grounded in the perspective of androids- all the player characters are androids, as are the majority of the supporting cast- Hank is arguably the only human character that gets any real screen time, and one of the only real insights we get into how humans are coping with this new android-filled world. I think this is a shame, because the setting is a really interesting one, and a lot goes unexplored, or at least, unexplored in depth. It frankly feels kind of disingenuous to me to only see little of Markus’ impact beyond a number on the screen labeled “public opinion,” and this is something that I feel Humans deals with a lot better. One of Humans’ biggest strengths is, ironically, the humans in it- the viewer is grounded in this sweeping, overarching plotline primarily through the perspective of the Hawkins family, but ultimately other human characters play a lot of important roles as well. We’ve got synth/human romances, we’ve got humans passing as synths (yes, that IS Princess Shuri down there) we’ve got synths passing as humans, we’ve got humans campaigning for synth rights, we’ve got humans campaigning for synth extinction. Getting the human side of the story is really valuable and adds so much to the narrative as a whole, it makes the protagonists’ struggle more real and raises the stakes.

Frankly this post is a mess but if you made it this far, thanks for reading, and please watch Humans if you like this type of sci-fi. I promise it’s worth it.

[leakinghate]

The Depths to which We Sink

Disclaimer: This theory and analysis contradicts some points made in my previous metas, but what’s the fun of speculation if we limit ourselves to having it all gel together?

Nothing in animation is wasted: every action and expression seen on screen is something someone had to draw and something someone had to pay for. Everything is deliberate, from changes in expression to major plot events, and things which do not contribute to the overarching vision of the show will rarely, if ever, be included. Voltron Legendary Defender in particular moves so fast that they don’t have the space to include anything extraneous even when they want to. The showrunners have said in interviews that they’ve had to cut several of their comedy ideas for lack of space.

The exception to this that has always stood out to me as not fitting into the meta narrative is s2e2 'The Depths'. It's mostly plot irrelevant on the whole, with it being notable only for introducing the Blue Lion’s sonic canon. Sure it has some nice character moments for Lance, and the animation is beautiful, but it’s basically filler. It’s almost completely forgotten by the story, only brought up again once, when Lance references the mermaids in s3e2, ‘Red Paladin’.

In preparation for the fast approaching season 7 on August 10th I was attempting to re-watch the entire show up to the end of s6. Most re-watches I do I skip less plot relevant episodes like ‘The Depths’, but I wanted to go through the whole show this time.

But as I was watching this particular episode, post season six. I was struck by an uncomfortable feeling of déjà vu. So what do you do when you think you’ve stumbled upon some heretofore unnoticed foreshadowing? Why, bring it to the Lotura Discord of course! We put our heads together and came up with some fascinating observations, as well as some intriguing possibilities for where the plot might be headed in the future.

On re-watching it again, post season six, 'The Depths’ contains an uncanny amount of foreshadowing to the entire colony plot.

Two of our protagonists unexpectedly stumble upon a completely isolated and hidden settlement after traveling through a strange space anomaly. They are initially greeted by a single member of a race they previously believed did not exist (anymore).

The mermaid civilization is beneath a thick layer of ice, and the Altean colony is inside a dome.

Information received from an erstwhile ally reveals an apparently sinister truth about the actions and motivations of someone in power who had previously acted as a friend. To wit: the authority figure has deceived their loyal subjects for the purpose of killing them.

The ally that provides this information readily admits that they do not know all the facts and that their conclusion is only a theory based on the facts that they do have.

Dialogue from The Depths:

Lance: But what’s the point? Why mind-control the mermaids? Blumfump: To kill them! Lance: Really? Blumfump: Well, we don’t know that for sure, but hundreds of mermaids have disappeared and never come back.

Dialogue from The Colony:

Romelle: My brother was dead. I knew the truth, or at least part of it, but I also knew that no one would believe me without proof. When Keith and Krolia arrived they were my last chance at finding it. I told them what had happened to my brother, and as it turned out, so many Alteans that had been taken before him. As they explained their mission to me, we knew there must have been a connection between the missing Alteans and the pure strain of quintessence.

One of our protagonists is compromised by an antagonist’s mind control and is used to attack and subdue his fellows. The shadows on Hunk’s face when he is under mind control even look like Shiro’s scar.

The physical appearances of several characters are also intriguing. The one character we see fall victim to the Baku, Florona, is the only red-headed mermaid in the episode. A shade of red very similar to Bandor’s hair color.

Plaxum, the most prominent of the ‘cave dwellers’ and the one who eventually directly confronts the queen, has two ponytail-like projections on her head very reminiscent of Romelle’s hairstyle. They also share very similar body language. And Plaxum’s eyes while wearing her jellyfish are the same color as Romelle’s.

In fact, both of these pairs of characters share very similar color schemes; Plaxum and Romelle are teal, pink, and yellow, while Florona and Bandor are red, golden-yellow, and green.

These are all things which have already happened; there is no speculation here, only observation.

Hilariously, this means Bandor has been metaphorically represented by a red fish.

In other words, a Red Herring.

From Wikipedia:

"A red herring is something that misleads or distracts from a relevant or important issue. It may be either a logical fallacy or a literary device that leads readers or audiences towards a false conclusion."

This is exactly what we've been saying since season 6 aired. Specifically referring to Bandor’s line after his ship crashed through the dome. The one thing he manages to tell Romelle is: “Lotor... the other colony... It’s all a lie.” Which tells us exactly nothing, but is the evidence that convinces Romelle she is correct to distrust Lotor, and what sets off the chain of events that ultimately led to the s6 finale. It’s also the strongest evidence we as the audience have that Lotor has done something truly monstrous. The scene with Bandor irrefutably connects Lotor to the emaciated Alteans, even if we don’t know precisely what that connection is. It’s easy to assume the worst both in and out of universe.

In cinema characters with red hair are often made to be the red herrings. A red herring may be intentionally used by the writer to plant a false clue that leads readers or audiences towards a false conclusion. Bandor led Romelle to a false conclusion.

Both in and out of the show. Romelle concluded wrong. The paladins concluded wrong. The AUDIENCE concluded wrong.

What’s next? Well, the plot of ‘The Depths’ isn’t a 1-to-1 relation to the Altean Colony storyline, so it’s difficult to say exactly what aspects of the episode’s climactic fight and conclusion will turn out to be relevant. But, we can be fairly certain that the overall narrative is the same.

The apparent villain was actually being manipulated into taking the actions they took by a greater, silent threat. The few rebels our protagonists met were wrong about who was the real enemy. They were right about the issue, but wrong about the ‘why.’ The leader was not at fault because the leader had fallen prey to the creature first and was subsequently rendered powerless to stop it.

Perhaps even, and here we get into more speculation...

The real threat was something that loomed large in the background the whole time, assumed to be providing safety. Fallen from space.

The Baku is referred to as ‘the giver of life’.

That phrase is disconcertingly ominous, considering the only other time we've heard a similar phrase was in reference to Oriande. The Sages, or ‘Life Givers’, specifically.

And what is quintessence, but ‘life itself’.

JDS has previously compared Lotor to Magus from Chrono Trigger, a game I have no personal experience with, but @blackmoonbabe​ provides the relevant info​ here.

What if there's some kind of cosmic horror that Lotor's been fending off with Altean quintessence? Possibly, the only kind strong enough - apart from the rift sourced variety. Extracting it and storing the people in the hopes of eventually restoring them. Only, now that he's gone. There's nothing stopping whatever this thing is. Who knows. It might even be related to the rift creatures.

We still don't know what the Baku was or where it came from, just that it 'fell from space.' The new trailer for season 7 features a similar looking and very toothy one-eyed beastie.

When Lotor is pleading with Allura he says:

"Allura, you must understand I’ve given everything I have to plumb the depth of King Alfor’s knowledge, to unlock the mysteries of Oriande."

It might be that he found something bad while trying to unlock those mysteries.

All of this really makes you wonder why exactly Alfor kept Oriande's existence a secret.

Post season 1, there was an interview where the showrunners said that they had to kill off Alfor's AI because he knew spoilers. Which, okay, that’s fair.

Except... what exactly have we come to know now that only Alfor’s AI could have told us ahead of time?

Everything we eventually learn about Zarkon we find out through Allura and Coran. And everything surrounding Lotor and Haggar  are things that Alfor’s AI wouldn’t have known about because they happened after Alfor’s death. The only outstanding piece of information that Alfor could have know was the location of and the information about Oriande. But, Allura doesn't even think to look for Oriande until mere moments before she and Lotor unlock the map to it. Certainly, the AI could have provided information of the proper way to get past the trials, but that was resolved easily enough in-episode and it was never truly portrayed as a risk that Allura and Lotor wouldn’t return before the castle ran out of oxygen.

If it was true that Alfor knew spoilers... there is something BIG concerning Altean Alchemy that we don't yet know. Not something little. Something potentially game changing.

Even knowing there was a good chance he was going to his death, and Coran and Allura would be on their own, Alfor never told Coran about Oriande. Coran and Alfor have been shown to have a particularly close, lifelong friendship - strong enough that Coran keeps at least two portraits of Alfor in his room above his bed. Alfor trusted Coran to the extent that he entrusted his beloved daughter, the Black Lion, and the future of the universe into Coran’s hands.

And yet.

Alfor didn’t tell Coran about Oriande. The one place Allura might go to strengthen her alchemic abilities and reach her potential. Alfor was faced with the possibility of letting the knowledge of Oriande and Altean Alchemy die, and he chose to risk it.

There had to be a damn good reason he didn't tell Coran about it. He might have known about something bad. It seems like he wanted Oriande forgotten; for Allura to never go there. Or at least, not until she was ready to make some tough decisions. Decisions he would rather spare her.

I’ve been feeling since around season 3 that VLD’s ultimate conclusion will be to show us that there is no true good and evil, that neither violence or pacifism is always the answer, that the world - the universe - is all shades of grey. Allura is our vehicle for that. It’s through her assumed prejudices that the show is shifting our viewpoints. She began the series believing that the Galra were all evil, the Alteans good. As time has gone on she’s improved impressively on her initial bias against the Galra, but has steadfastly refused to acknowledge her own people as capable of similar actions - her response to the alternate reality Alteans was to declare them not true Alteans instead of accepting that they’d become akin to the Galra Empire from her own reality.

It’s clear that Allura will have to face Honerva eventually, and will be forced to confront what the former greatest Altean Alchemist has become. But it’s too easy to dismiss Honerva’s corruption into Haggar as a side effect of the rift - not the willing actions of someone more concerned with knowledge than morality.

For six seasons we’ve seen Alfor as a paragon of good. His one fatal flaw being perhaps too good, too trusting, that he believed his friend’s words over his own judgement. Ultimately damning the universe to ten thousand years of being ground under the heel of a brutal dictator.

Alfor paid for that mistake with his life, with the destruction of his planet and the near extinction of his people. And so, he remains what all good in VLD is measured against, both in our - the audience’s - minds, and in Allura’s.

But just as our ultimate evil, Zarkon, was revealed to be more than just a monster, so too will our ultimate good be made more complex. In season 3 we were introduced to the younger Zarkon. A loyal friend and comrade. Awkward around an attractive woman, afraid of cats, and a dedicated and concerned ruler of his people. He was humanized, for lack of a better word, but we still see in him the man who he’d eventually become.

What better way to finally break through Allura’s idealized view of Alteans than by tainting Alfor’s image in some way? To finally see our Big Good do something morally grey? We’ve already seen it foreshadowed by the corruption of the AI, and the Alteans in the alternate reality.

The first time we’ve heard someone level legitimate criticisms against Alfor was at the end of season 6. Just after Lotor begins his breakdown he says:

"What about your father? He may have been a master engineer, but Alfor was too weak to defend his home world. I’m the one who had to step up and save our entire race. Who are you to question my tactics in bringing peace and prosperity to the universe?"

No one else criticizes Alfor for his choices. Even when they acknowledge he failed, he's always portrayed as having taken the best choice. But, what if Lotor's right? It certainly looks like he is.

If Lotor hadn’t stepped in and saved those few survivors of Altea’s destruction they would eventually have been discovered by the empire and executed. Zarkon had made it his personal mission to drive the Alteans to extinction. Alfor was weak. He surrendered to his fear of what would happen if Voltron fell into Zarkon’s hands and failed to utilize all his resources to defend Altea, his people, and his allies.

This won’t be the only fault we find out he had, mark my words.

There is something dark and unsavory lurking in the truth of Altean Alchemy.

Considering Lotor readily admits that Alteans perished in the process of his quintessence experiments, it may very well be that whatever required such vast amounts of concentrated quintessence is also something Alfor had to contend with in the past. Canonically, as stated in s3e7 ‘The Legend Begins’, quintessence was only first discovered in the course of studying the rift on Daibazaal. Alfor could not have been utilizing quintessence directly, because he didn't know it existed.

So if, whatever Lotor has been having to do with the colony, Alfor may have been having to do something similar...

He was simply sacrificing people.

It’s a lot easier to hide a handful of people going missing when you have an entire planet’s population to work with.

What if this is a thing that had always been happening, and that's why Alfor never told Coran about Oriande?

The thing is, Lotor can't know that now. Or he would have told Allura. To justify his actions, if it was something that Alfor would have dealt with as well.

Lotor didn't have Voltron. If there is some kind of Cosmic Horror beastie out there he might not have been able to fight it, let alone kill it. So he was building Sincline. Hence the urgency to get it completed even after Zarkon was gone. We know he was out of concentrated quintessence as of s4e5 ‘Begin the Blitz’. He was either going to have to access the rift imminently or harvest more people.

The powers that be keep talking about things not being black and white in this show.

Alteans can do bad things. Honerva became Haggar. Allura herself has made some morally questionable choices. Like what she did to Lotor for example.

Allura will need to realize that. The truth will rise from the depths and confront her in a way she can no longer ignore.

Alfor failed. It was up to Lotor to save the Altean people. He did what he felt he had to do, and in many respects, it will turn out he was right.

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[ganymedesclock]

Something I’ve been thinking of for a while is s5e5, an episode very much Heavily About Family, opens with Sam Holt leaving for Earth and saying goodbye to Pidge and Matt, and then Hunk gives him something to give to all of their families, and basically, it tells us more than we heard before about the paladins.

Most of the new information is from Lance and Hunk, because we already know Pidge’s family situation and Keith isn’t present- Hunk suggests he has a single mother (“so that’s for mom’s eyes only”) and Lance gives us the names of his three older siblings (Marco, Luis, and Veronica).

But interestingly enough, who does Shiro mention, but Commander Iverson. And yes, the specific mention is “tell Iverson I’m gonna punch him for tying me to that table” but that in and of itself caught my attention because... since when does Shiro address superior officers like that? He’s known Allura for something like a year now and still mostly calls her “Princess” respectfully.

But he doesn’t even put a “commander” in there for Iverson the way he does for Sam.

And that occurred to me that...

We know Iverson was one of the people in the unit- the dialogue at the bottom of the screen is him. And there’s a few interesting things here:

I’m pretty sure actually suiting up like a med tech and personally being in the unit is pretty not Iverson’s actual standing and job description. He’s a piloting teacher, which would suggest his credentials are a pilot, and he’s not handling any medical equipment here.

The complete lack of formality goes both ways- Iverson very pointedly calls him “Shiro”- not his full first or last name, but a nickname. Nickname specifically used by Shiro’s friends.

Iverson is the guy on the left here- the guy who Shiro is looking straight at, and who has his hand on Shiro’s arm. Seconds later, one of the other med techs has to point out the arm Iverson is holding right there in that picture was replaced with an alien mechanism. Even though he has his hand on Shiro’s elbow. And would logically notice that this doesn’t feel like an arm.

So I have to wonder if Shiro and Iverson were particularly close? Keaton’s said in interviews his headcanon was Shiro was raised only by a grandparent and probably lost that person a while before meeting Keith, but while the scene in the unit looks kind of bad...

You have to remember the Garrison pretty clearly doesn’t hate Shiro at all. He’s never singled out with the Kerberos mission, and Lance, who’s only heard the Garrison side of things, says that Shiro is his personal hero. Furthermore the disappearance announcement shows both Sam and Matt in space suits- but Shiro in his Garrison uniform, almost definitely to show off that medal pinned to his chest.

Pidge in s3e1 states that Shiro was a “legend” in her house, so we have at least one Garrison Commander that thought the world of Shiro.

And Iverson? Iverson’s cold and snappy, but he also blows up about Kerberos. When Pidge doing the same thing is supposed to tell us she lost people she cared deeply about to the mission, Iverson matches her snarl for snarl in that scene, even when, in other scenes, we see that he’s not as temperamental as his drill sergeant antics suggest.

If anything, the flashback shows us that Iverson obviously hesitated to throw the book at Pidge even when she was compromising sensitive government information with her search for her family. She was, y’know, banned from the Garrison, rather than arrested.

In s1e1, while he’s looking at the Blue Lion with a colleague, the other person gives him a very blatantly smart-aleck answer and Iverson just sort of puts his hands on his hips indifferently.

Even chewing out the team, he’s snappy, but doesn’t have any real heat or venom to it until Pidge sets him off about Kerberos, and once Lance redirects it, that’s when Iverson rounds on him.

So the obvious question is why wasn’t Shiro reassured by him in the unit, if they were that close? And why wouldn’t Iverson listen to him?

Well, you have to consider the way Shiro’s acting in this scene is wildly unlike him. This is something I’ve said before, but Shiro doesn’t exactly put a good foot forwards for the team working on him to drop everything, especially quarantine protocols that are there to protect him and others, to go looking for something on his behest.

This is someone who is usually levelheaded, calm, and approachable. He is currently screaming, admits to being heavily disoriented (he has no idea how much time has passed since his disappearance) has the scars from one or two healed head injuries and is bodily fastened to an unknown piece of technology.

Considering they likely didn’t tie Shiro down to the gurney when he was awake, he was probably unconscious when the team pulled him out of the pod in the first place- which, if you pulled an unconscious person out of a car crash and they woke up screaming and thrashing enough that without intervention they’d slam their head on the gurney and hurt themselves, you’re not going to put much stock into them yelling about aliens.

Yes, Shiro has more things to make the specific aliens thing sound more credible, but Iverson has no reason to believe that Shiro’s claim that they have no time is his usual prudent thinking. If anything, knowing Shiro personally would probably make him more likely to make that call- Shiro is so upset and so panicked that anything that can make the quarantine less awful on him has to be a good idea, especially if, by Iverson’s own explicit reasoning, Shiro’s potentially a danger to himself and others.

I’m surprised at how much people discredit “Put him under until we know what that thing is capable of” if we consider the second time in s1e1 someone pushes Shiro near a panic attack threshold, ‘that thing’ lights up and proves to be a devastating strength laser cutter that’s also able to hurt Shiro himself.

Iverson was completely right about the prosthetic. That doesn’t mean he was endeavoring to lock Shiro in a basement and unperson him. If the gang hadn’t broken Shiro out, it’s almost a definite bet they would’ve cleared quarantine, got Shiro into a more comfortable, livable environment, and wait for him to sleep off the sedative before having a more organized debriefing.

Because, again, Shiro flat-out said he had no idea how much time had passed and was screaming about aliens. This isn’t an environment where literally anyone concerned with the clarity of the ensuing report would ask for one.

And again, Shiro’s awfully cavalier about bringing it up to Iverson, even through Sam as a proxy, which, if Shiro feels like someone has been seriously morally wronged here he tends to be a lot less in good humor about it.

But this leads to something interesting: Iverson and Keith.

Because Keith is a subject Iverson seems to take personally. He’s quick to talk up Keith as a very promising candidate and someone whose “discipline issue” he’s still mad about- and if there’s something to the writer comment that Iverson’s closed eye was part of that discipline issue...

It’s noteworthy that I don’t think we’ve ever seen Keith physically lash out at someone out of anger. He’s pretty easily set off verbally, but- we haven’t seen him even come close to punching someone.

Which would suggest, if Keith argued with Iverson over Shiro, not only was he already incredibly cut up about it, but, this was probably a pretty intense argument. Not something someone being a callous drill sergeant type would be able to set off.

But then I remembered s3e1- and Keith specifically being angry at the rest of the team because he felt like none of them were missing Shiro.

Why?

Because they were acting on other responsibilities.

Iverson is the highest-ranking person we’ve seen in the Garrison. There are probably ranks above Commander (possibly that woman Lance spotted leaving the unit) but Iverson’s still pretty high up the chain of command. He has a lot of responsibilities... and his overall gruffness and distant high standards suggest he’s not someone who wears his hurt on his sleeve.

There’s an easy setup here where Keith tends to be kind of socially oblivious, and especially he tends to be, again, sometimes blind to how much other people care about something. So if Iverson and Keith were both close to Shiro, I can see Keith feeling like Iverson doesn’t care afterwards.

And Iverson... If Iverson’s close to Shiro, it’s very likely that part of the reason Iverson was focused on Keith enough to potentially confront him after Kerberos was because it may well have been Shiro who got Iverson to give Keith a chance. Shiro who put the bug in his ear about this guy. And Keith definitely seems to have been floundering, hard, once he lost Shiro.

I can see Iverson losing patience with this kid because it feels like right after losing Shiro he’s throwing away everything Shiro tried to give him- especially if Iverson was grieving himself and Keith didn’t. recognize that. It’d be a perfect storm kind of situation.

(And again, if Keith hit Iverson hard enough to damage one of his eyes... much like with Pidge, there’s got to be a reason Iverson didn’t, y’know, get Keith arrested for assault)

[be-a-snake-stab-your-brother]

INFINITY WAR COMMENTARY

SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS

DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE AVOIDING SPOILERS

My long-ass reaction to my favorite Asgardians below the cut. 

LAST CHANCE IF YOU ARE ON MOBILE. 

SPOILERS! 

SPOILERS! 

LONG-ASS COMMENTARY BY YOURS TRULY.

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

Oooooooh boy.

Loki

Infinity War

Guys, I think he’s really dead this time.

*sobs forever*

Loki is a tragic character, deep in the Shakespearean mold. (And we can probably thank his portrayer for that.)

Disjointed thoughts here. This got...long. 

On Loki in *THAT* scene

-The distress signal from the Asgardian vessel in the opening? That was Loki, right? I had to be. I will die on the headcanon hill that the voice is Loki’s. He *wants* to save his people, and this is his last-ditch effort for help, a raw and real exclamation of loss and fear. Guys, he cares. Too much, to be honest (which is exactly how his whole mess started how many years ago but I digress…)

-I have to wonder how much Loki and Thor plotted the initial part of the confrontation where Loki drops the line, “We have a Hulk.” I feel like both Loki and Thor might have planned that? Now, I’m not entirely sure that Thor knew Loki had the Tesseract. To be honest, one of the biggest mysteries for me still is WHY DID LOKI EVEN TAKE THE TESSERACT IN RAGNAROK? For power? To protect it? As an insurance policy? I have no idea, and it’s basically the only real, burning question I have about Loki’s motivations.

But anyway, the line, “You are the worst, brother.” Or, “You are the worst brother.” Punctuation matters. I, myself, feel that number one is more accurate. Remember their relationship. Remember that they might (at this point), still be putting on a show for Thanos, thinking that somehow he can be overpowered by the Hulk and Thor together. This kind of taunting is how they interact, even on good days.

Have I mentioned how much I love the “We have a Hulk” line? God bless Loki and his irreverent sense of humor. Look how far our little blue icicle has come since the confrontation in Stark’s tower! You know he had to love pulling out that quote. Oh, poor Lokes.

But…Hulk gets his ass kicked. Heimdall sends him down with the dark magic and shit gets real.

-Loki tries to pull his whole song and dance “let me betray my brother again” routine, but the problem is…he’s given himself away already, and both Thanos and Loki know it. Thanos tortures Thor with the Power Stone (the first real indication of his…well, power) and you can see Loki’s face contort in agony (lordy TH is such a stupendous actor, I really hope he gets some meaty roles in the future. The man is a damn artist and I don’t throw that term around lightly. Mad respect.)

So, anyway - even if Loki and Thor had planned the initial confrontation out, the minute Loki coughs up the Tesseract to protect Thor, he knows he’s doomed.

-And here is where it gets sad. Loki’s been on borrowed time - ever since his fall from the Bifrost, since being “recruited” by Thanos. Hell, in some ways, Loki’s been on borrowed time ever since Odin took him in as a baby. It was a terrible, awful thing to say, but Odin’s quote that it was Loki’s “birthright to die” is not wholly inaccurate. And by all accounts, he should have died when he fell into the Void. And he didn’t. He should have died when he was stabbed by the Dark Elf. But he didn’t. He ran and ran and ran. He cheated fate - the Norns - so many times. But he had to know that it would all catch up to him. That he couldn’t stay hidden as Odin forever, couldn’t stay locked up in prison forever, couldn’t be on Sakaar forever, that his entrapment to Thanos - the threat of the Other - that it would come back to haunt him.

It’s such a god damn tragedy.

If Loki wasn’t repentant, it would be a different matter altogether. If he didn’t hand over the Tesseract, even with Thor’s torture, maybe Thanos kills Thor, takes Loki captive and tortures him for it (again). Eventually molds Loki back into what he had been during the Avengers. But I get the feeling Thanos had some idea of Loki’s trajectory, that torturing Thor would be the one thing that was worse than death. (“He will make you long for something as sweet as pain.”) And the fate that was worse than death for Loki was seeing his brother die. Remember, Thanos wants to kill half the universe. Two brothers. In his twisted logic, one had to go. Loki knows this and wasn’t going to let Thor be the victim.

-And so he decides to go out on his terms, practically ensuring that he will die by pissing off Thanos. And at this point, at the end - he finally embraces every part of his identity - Asgardian, Jotun, prince, and king. Maybe, for a fleeting second, he believes he might succeed, but I’m pretty certain Loki knows that it false hope.

-The moment he reached Thor’s eyes and declares himself Odinson, Loki knows it’s over. This one measly sacrifice - a person he doesn’t even necessarily like (himself!) - to save Thor. Loki never really cared about Midgard, about the rest of the cosmos, but he will lay himself down for his brother - his family.

-And just…it’s the worst? The best? Each movie his motivations stem from someone else. In Thor 1 he does it for his father, to win his love and respect. In Thor 2 for his mother, to avenge her death. In Thor 3 it was for his people, for Asgard - to save his home. And now in Infinity War he does it for his brother, because he loves him too damn much. (And in the Avengers? For Thanos, partially; and for himself, but not really. Loki failed in New York. Probably because he lacked conviction. He never wanted power, never really liked himself. Of course that invasion failed.)

-So he conjures a dagger. If he is going to die, he’s going to do it his way, Loki-style. And someone pointed out on Tumblr that his attack was the same move Laufey tried to pull on Odin. Good lord, the layering with this character. I’m crying again, I just can’t guys. “Look at me, brother. This is me. Loki. God. Prince. King. Family. I do this for you.” Agh.

-And then the line, “You will never be a god.” That is PURE Loki. Haughty Loki, who even staring death in the face will not bow in fear. He is better than Thanos, who needs a power stone to overcome a god. His last words are defiance - you will never be better than me, no matter how much power you accumulate.

Guys, I love this character so much you have no idea. There is so much I relate to in Loki’s internal struggles and demons and just…god, he is so fucking tragic.

-And I want to backtrack to the line, “The sun will shine on us again,” which Loki tells Thor. Oh man. It’s a goodbye. We will meet again in Valhalla, brother. It could also be more than that. I don't know where the scriptwriters came up with this idea, but a Google search brought me this from an…unlikely source?

“Today marks a profound and bittersweet milestone for all of us, as we bear witness to both an end and a beginning. And while we must continue on, we must also be grateful to have been blessed with someone who has so ably guided us to where we are today. When there has been so much love and happiness for someone, it is natural to be reluctant to close such a wonderful chapter in our lives, for moving forward is rarely accomplished without considerable grief and sadness. And while our sorrow may be profound, the clouds will clear, and the sun will shine on us again. And in that warm, bright light we will find ourselves facing a glorious future. A future of exciting challenges and infinite possibilities, in which the horizon will stretch out before us, trimmed in the heavenly glow of the sunrise of our tomorrow.

Eddie, The Prince and Me"

Again, I have no idea if this is a reference. I don’t even know this movie and from a brief reading of reviews, it looks pretty terrible. Nonetheless, I like the quote as I feel like in its entirety it’s a wonderful send off to the character and Tom Hiddleston as his portrayer. And frankly, it’s so god damn poetic that it makes me want to cry. Again. Loki, Loki, Loki - that small bit of comfort you offer your brother, yourself in that dark hour. That quote is young Loki, start of Thor 1 Loki, where he still maintains some of that quiet innocence that gets ravaged by stupid Thanos. He comes full circle in this scene.

-And on that note, I rarely talk about actors on my blogs, because they are people with private lives and interests and I’m really not a celebrity culture person at all. This being said, I would understand if Tom Hiddleston would be in part relieved to let Loki go. Let the man get all the meaty roles in the future, let him do Shakespeare on the grandest stages (or the smallest, most intimate venues, where, in my mind, those plays really shine), allow him to grace his talent and abilities in future productions. I personally cannot wait to see what he does next. And let us be thankful for his absolutely brilliant, nuanced portrayal of Loki, who could have easily been a stock villain and instead became one of the most compelling characters I have had to pleasure of watching on screen.

On Thor

-I wanted to comment on two things. One, his conversation with Rocket, where he lists all the horrible events that have happened to him since the first movie. I loved seeing Thor’s vulnerability in this scene, the way he tries to overcome everything with flippant humor and his golden-retriever attitude. That’s who he is. (It probably drove Loki, an introvert with a penchant for brooding, insane in their childhood.) The throwaway line about Loki being dead more than once - that’s misplaced hope, that’s Thor saying “Please, no. Please let it be a lie,” even when he knows it’s not. Ugh.

-When Thor lays his axe into Thanos, saying something along the lines of, “I said I’ll kill you for that.” Yes, for Asgard. Yes, for Heimdall. Yes, for everything he’s lost. But most of all? For Loki. I refuse to read that scene any other way. Thor is on a revenge quest for his brother this entire film. I hope he kicks the shit out of Thanos in Avengers 4.

On Loki’s Return?

-Okay, look guys, I want Loki to revive as much as the next person, believe me. I want to see his full reconciliation with Thor, for him to prance around with the Avengers, and play pranks and be happy!Loki. I know there’s all types of speculation due to the leaked pictures from Avengers 4, and yeah, it would be EPIC if somehow Loki helped in defeating Thanos in that alternate timeline that the remaining Avengers seem to be traveling to. If this gets offered to me on a silver platter, fuck yeah I will rejoice.

-And yes, what did happen to Loki in those few minutes during the Hulk/Thanos confrontation? What if Loki’s line about the sun was more than a goodbye? We’re all pretty certain that the heroes who got ashed will be back, will it be the same for Loki, Gamora, and Vision? I don’t know. My instinct says “no,” but we’re all going to have to wait until next year. (Or, Agent of Asgard Loki? That, too, would be awesome.)

On Valhalla

-I would love a small scene of Loki in the afterlife, meeting with Frigga, who escorts him to Valhalla. It’s not going to happen on screen, but I’m totally going to write a short fic about it, because TEARS and CATHARSIS.

On the Rest of the Film

-I have a fair amount to say about the rest of the film, too! But I’m going to save that for a different meta as I have to leave for work soon. Suffice it to say I enjoyed about 90% of it. A few places dragged, I have no investment in Wanda/Vision, so that really didn’t hold my interest. Tony/Peter Parker/Dr. Strange was inspired, and the Thor + GoG bits were wonderful. Plus, Okoye giving that look to Banner as he tripped in the Hulkbuster suit. I about died there, it was fantastic.

-The snap. Jesus Christ on a cracker that was rough. Especially Tony and Spiderman. Like, rough.

-This film is way too existential for a super-hero movie. Which is why I love it. It’s brooding, dark tone is also a fantastic reflection on the world’s current geopolitical situation and, for me, a product of that kind of “millenial generation depression” that’s been commented on before. I’ll have more to say about this in my larger Infinity War post.

And finally, no better way to eulogize Loki than this:

“Now cracks a noble heart.—Good night, sweet prince. And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest.”

[spacechild-glitchypix]

Cookie Crumbs and Tears - A Sanders Sides Fic

So, I wrote this a long time ago and I’m only posting here now because of course I am

Summary: Virgil, in an attempt to get away from his room and from the ever invading thoughts of a particular character, manages to find himself talking with Patton (the real one) about how the events that transpired earlier today had affected his relationship to the other sides. Now, Virgil was expecting Roman and Logan to be slightly suspicious but he wasn't expecting outright anger from either of the two sides

And he certainly didn't expect one of them to try to physically confront Patton.

Takes place shortly after the events of 'Can Lying Be Good?'

Pairings: Minor Prinxiety, Minor Logicality

Warnings: Near violence (no violence actually happens but someone nearly punches someone and light violence is described), Virgil suffers a panic attack, Patton cries, someone grabs someone’s butt (it’s an accident and treated as comic relief)

Read on AO3 here

Sequel fic (There Are Voices In My Head (Not The Normal Kind Either)) here

Second sequel fic (The Healing Heart Fixes the Cracked Crown) here

Virgil was sat in his room, arms hugging his legs and eyes stationed on a face-down picture frame. The purple-clad side had no clue why he kept it, it just served to make him feel worse but, then again, his room was the dark corner of Thomas's mind where you indulge in problematic thoughts so the picture wasn't exactly out of place now, was it? Virgil shifted, curling in on himself even further at the thought of his past. He was beyond this, he was getting better, he was one of Thomas's main sides now. The other three liked him too, he was doing good now and he was going to keep improving.

So why did he still feel like a hindrance?

Virgil got up; began pacing. He felt self-conscious- no, wait, he felt jittery- no, not that either. He felt something bothering him, something bad, something that he needed to control. What was it? Worry? Terror? Anxiety? Anxiety! Yes, he felt anxiety- anxious! He needed to leave the room, it was only gonna get worse while he was there and he honestly didn't want it to get worse. Virgil quickly rushed away from his room, down the halls into the mind lounge. No one was there, an unusual occurrence. The room usually had at least one side in here at a time but not this time apparently. Virgil gave the absence of the others a quick notice before settling down on the four-seater couch that laid in the middle of the room. He took this time to take deep breaths in and out before grounding himself. Five things he could see. The floor, the walls the screen where the sides could watch what Thomas was doing, the memory access panel that allowed the sides to access Thomas's memories when need be and Patton standing in the doorway.

Wait.

Virgil looked directly at the side that was hesitantly standing on the threshold of the halls and the mind lounge. It looked like Patton but Virgil was uncertain of if this really was Patton or not and didn't want to risk letting a snake get any closer to him than necessary. The side that looked like Patton gave a weak wave and a smile, a sweet and rather innocent smile but it was also a little weak. Virgil could also vaguely make out tear tracks but that wasn't enough to ease his worries that this Patton may not be genuine. The side clad in blue slowly but surely made his way towards the couch, going to sit down only to be interrupted by Virgil sprawling his legs out to cover a good chunk of the couch. Virgil was sure that this side would just attempt to sit in the unoccupied area but he apparently got message Virgil was trying to give and just stood, a sombre look spread on his face for a brief second before the side went back to smiling. That brief look would've usually softened Virgil up on any normal day but, instead, it just made him put his guard up further.

"Sorry to bother you kiddo but d'you think maybe we could talk?" The blue-clad side asked. Even his voice was a little weak and Virgil couldn't properly pin a reason. It could be Patton, maybe the whole situation had gotten to the sweeter side more than he'd let on earlier but, at the same time, it could just be the snake pretending to be Patton and feigning upset. Virgil didn't know what to do. After a good five minutes of Virgil's silence, the older side's weak smile shattered and a look of utter despair covered his expression. A distraught from covered his face and his eyes looked utterly broken as a pair of limpid teardrops threatened to escape from his ducts. It was a face Patton rarely put on, one Virgil had studied adamantly when he was left to console Patton on his own one day while the fatherly side rambled on about how he was feeling particularly troubling feelings towards the one side who didn't seem to have any of those sorts of feelings. Why had he studied Patton's face while the elder side talked about his feelings? Well, simply put, this was around the start of their friendship and Virgil still found it hard to keep a consistent amount of eye contact with him, let alone comfort him. He did get to study his face for the three hours Patton rambled and Virgil always remembered a face.

Virgil knew for a fact that it's a face that the snake couldn't possibly hope to imitate entirely, the fool could barely imitate Patton well enough to get by the three other sides just hours before. This was undeniably Patton. Now Virgil was just left curious about what happened to him. Virgil swung his legs off of the couch and motioned for the older side to sit down.

"Sorry about…" Virgil swivelled his hand, hoping that Patton would get the message.

"It's alright, I've been getting that all day. Roman and Logan never got that it as really me though…" Patton's voice was still rather small, the side was trying not to make it crack. Virgil assumed that he was trying not to make himself sound anymore upset than he already was.

"I can try to convince them that you're not...him if you want," Virgil could hear his voice grow bitter at the mere mention of that snake. He would try not to bring him up too much, Patton didn't need the grief. "Don't worry kiddo, it'll sort it out later hopefully," Patton gave the darker side a tiny smile of gratitude. Virgil decided to let the older side do as he said, not wanting to argue with him.

"You still wanna talk?" Virgil asked.

"Yeah," Patton rubbed at the tears that were trying to escape, worried that a dam was going to break if he didn't. The side then tugged a little at the cat hoodie tied around his shoulders, loosening the knot but not enough to remove the tie entirely.

"Roman wouldn't even look at me,"

At the mention of the princely trait and his cold attitude, Virgil held a look of disappointment. He didn't know why he was disappointed with Roman but he was. Maybe he was expecting more from the heroic prince, maybe it was just that tiny portion of his brain that had grown fond of the charmingly eccentric dreamer was rather hurt with hearing how he'd just treated a close friend with such disdain. Then again, people in glass houses shouldn't throw stones.

"I went to his room to give him some cookies. Like, I iced them so that they had his emblem on them and everything because I wanted him to feel special after what happened today. Then I got to his room, knocked on the door and waited for him to let me in. So, he opened the door but, as soon as he saw me, he went to close the door again. I tried to tell him that it was just me but he just ignored me. After that, I just left the cookies at the door and left," Patton stared towards the hall, Virgil following his gaze and found a little stack of cookies wrapped in cellophane with a red and white bow to tie the gift together just sitting outside of the prince's room.

He was utterly baffled, shocked at Roman's utter lack of kindness towards Patton. It took a split second before that silence turned to anger and he felt a burning desire to deck Roman in the face. He decided against actually trying to deck the prince in the face since he was pretty sure the prince was stronger than he was and would just punch him back. Virgil didn't really want a broken nose and he also really didn't want to set his friendship with Roman back to stage one. Sure, Roman was still a major jerk to him but they were at least vitriolic buds now as opposed to being enemies to one and other. Plus, Roman was trying to cut back at the slights, that much was obvious. Virgil proceeded to glare at the door, maybe hoping Roman would possible come out and notice the utter fury Virgil had. It wasn't going to happen but Virgil could dream damn it.

"Virgil?" Patton's voice managed to snap Virgil out of his stupor and sudden desire to beat the red and white prince in with a rusty, metal pipe. The darker side looked towards his friend who looked a little concerned. Whether he was concerned about Virgil himself or Roman's fate, Virgil wasn't sure but he put that aside for now.

"You said you talked to Logan, right?" Virgil began to regret his question as soon as he saw the tears starting to well up in Patton's eyes. Considering Logan's hatred of the snake and Patton's complicated emotions for Logan, Virgil figured the encounter must've been brutal.

"Well, I tried to. I went to his room after Roman shut me out because I thought that maybe I could at least get a conversation out of him, even if it is a little harsh. You know how he is," Patton started. Virgil could tell he was rambling, he didn't want to recall what had happened. Virgil didn't do that, he just kept his mouth shut and avoided talking about whatever it was that he didn't want to remember but he could tell when someone felt particularly sore about an event.

"Did you?" Virgil was rather hesitant to ask, a little worried about how Patton would react and what would happen if he retold the events.

"Kinda. I also made cookies for him with his little brain-logo thing iced onto them. I didn't know how much he'd appreciate them though since he does go on about how we should be eating healthily and not snacking out on things like sweets but then I thought 'well, a treat once and a while won't hurt you' and decided I'd tell him that if he went off on me for making him cookies instead of getting him carrot sticks or something and-"

"Patton, you're rambling,"

"...Oops. Well, anyways, I knocked on his door, got the cookies out and waited for him to open up. Once he opened up the door, I went to give him the cookies but he just gave me this...look. Like, he looked angry and suspicious. I tried to keep talking to him since I had no idea why he was looking at me like that but then he told to go away...well, I mean, he didn't word it as nicely as that but that's basically what he said," Patton glanced back to the hallway again, looking at Logan's door this time. Virgil followed his gaze but noticed there were any cookies there. The purple-clad side doubted that Logan would've taken the cookies if he had such a vehement reaction to Patton just giving him cookies. Virgil also doubted that Logan would react like that because of cookies and the logical side wouldn't be likely just to assume that this Patton wasn't Patton unless-

"So, wait, did he just see you and give you that look or did you say something?" Virgil questioned.

"I mean, he seemed fine when he first saw me I guess. I just said hi and that I had cookies for him and then he started giving me that look," Patton fiddled with his fingers as tried to recall what exactly had happened. "Specifics Patton, what did you say to him exactly?" Virgil had an idea of what might've tipped Logan off but he needed to know if Patton had actually done it.

"Like, exactly what I said?" Patton looked really confused. Virgil nodded. "Well, I said 'Hey Lo!' first. Logan his usual look and then I said 'Guess who just made the bestest batch of cookies for the bestest teacher in the world!' and he gave me the angry and suspicious look," Patton explained.

"Yep, that'd do it," Virgil mumbled, prompting Patton to give him a confused look. Virgil noticed and sighed. "Look, he said some pretty nice compliments to use while he was pretending to be you. One of the things he told Logan was that he was everyone's favourite side…"

"Oh…" Patton's face filled with guilt as he looked back towards the dark blue door that led to Logan's room.

"Anyways," Virgil had another thought on his mind, another point to bring up considering the fact the cookies seemed to be missing. "What happened after Logan told you to go away?"

Patton snapped his gaze back to Virgil, a look spread across his face that was practically the embodiment of hurt. Virgil became a little worried. What on Earth could Logan have done that would cause Patton to look like that? To see the usually upbeat father so downcast was a pretty big shock anyways but the pure sorrow on Patton's face was like a blow to the stomach. What on Earth had Logan done?

"Well, I told him to watch his language. He just repeated the phrase again but harsher. After that, I just said that I'd ignore the strong language for now as long as he apologised by taking the cookies I made him. He, well...he didn't exactly take that very well," Patton paused, his voice starting to quiver and his eyes starting to water. He took a deep breath before continuing. "Logan opened the door fully, took the cookies I'd made, walked to the back of his room and stood beside the trash can, turned to look at me with his hand with the cookies I made him over the trash can and then threw the cookies I made for him in the bin,"

Virgil was about to comment on Logan's unnecessary rudeness but Patton held his finger up as if to say 'gimme a second'. The poor guy was incredibly close to crying and Virgil feared that the spec-wearing side was going to break down into sobs by the time he finished telling the tale. Virgil decided to quickly rush to the kitchen to get tissues before sprinting back in. Patton seemed to be ready to continue by the time Virgil had come back.

"So, after Logan did...that, I said that what he did was a little rude but I'd make him salad if he really didn't want cookies that badly. Logan…" Patton paused, his voice breaking a little and tears finally dripping down his face. He quickly scrubbed the droplets from his face before continuing. "Logan grabbed me by the collar and pushed away from his room before slamming the door in my face," Patton finally spat out, tears rushing faster and faster from his tear ducts as his voice grew into weak sobs. He sniffled a bit before getting back to what had happened. His voice was meek and feeble "I was ok after he shoved me, I just bumped my back against the wall but, even if it didn't really hurt, I started crying and just went to my room to sulk and look at pictures of us when Thomas was a little kid. I came out a bit later and went looking for you,"

If Virgil was tempted to deck Roman before, he was outright ready to beat the ever-loving $@#% out of Logan.

What the actual hell was Logan thinking?! Virgil understood that he's always been a little self-conscious of how well-liked he is and that the snake's comment probably got to him deeply but did he really shoved Patton into a wall like that just because he assumed it was him?! Virgil hated the damn snake more than Logan did but even he wouldn't have potentially have hurt poor Patton under an assumption! Virgil wasn't letting this one go, he was not about to let Logan get away with that. Patton doesn't deserve that after all joy he brings to the group. Plus, Virgil was also peeved at Logan for joking that the snake was preferable to Patton when the latter was just making dad jokes and puns.

This was gonna feel cathartic as hell.

Virgil stood up, stalking towards the dark blue door that led to Logan's room. Behind him, he could faintly hear Patton worriedly asking what he was doing. Virgil didn't respond. Once the darker side had reached the door, he bashed his fist against it, the loud thumps echoing through the halls of the mindscape. Logan opened the door, a sliver of guilt found on his face along with a startled expression. Once the eyes behind the thick-rimmed glasses met Virgil's own, the purple-clad side proceeded to push Logan's door open, his hands curled into fists and his teeth bared into a snarl. Logan looked bewildered, fear starting to mix into the bewilderment as he took a good step back. Virgil went to reach for Logan's collar, his fist pulled back as he did so.

"Virgil, stop!"

Arms pulled Virgil back, grabbing at his own arms and forcing him away from Logan. Said side looked on in a mix of confusion and terror. Virgil could hear Patton muttering into his ear, comforting him with words of 'its okay', 'calm down kiddo', 'I'm right here' and 'We don't need to fight'. At the commotion, Roman decided to peek out of his room, witnessing Virgil in this compromising position. Any previous anger that had run through Virgil's veins died away as he saw the prince looking at him with confused, almost horrified eyes.

Virgil suddenly realised what he'd nearly done and broke down. His knees gave out and his breathing became shallow as Patton, ever the fatherly hero, supported him through the whole thing, holding him up and trying to give comforting words. This wasn't right, Patton deserved to be supported right now, not Virgil, Virgil had nearly punched Logan in the face. Patton was still hurting, Virgil wasn't, why was Patton so content with making him feel better right now? Self-deprecating thoughts ran through Virgil's head as his lack of oxygen started to make him dizzy. Eventually, Virgil passed out.

Light flooded his vision. Virgil was unsure of what he was looking at but he knew he was lying on something soft. He decided whatever that light was, it could wait, he could sleep in for a couple more minutes. Eyes closed, Virgil shifted into a sideways position. His pillow seemed to flinch at his movement, it warmness radiating against his head. He lifted an arm to grab whatever he was sleeping against, grabbing something soft and decently squishy before a shrill screech filled his ears and hands whacked his away.

Wait. Hands? Flinching pillows? screeches?

Virgil opened his eyes again, rolling onto his back to look up at his surroundings. The light came back, blinding him for a good few seconds. He blinked multiple times, attempting to wipe the brightness away with his eyelids. Muffled voices spoke simultaneously in the background as he tried to regain his senses. After a minute, his sight came back to him.

He was met face-to-upside-down-face with a frowning, slightly flustered Roman. Virgil held a rather confused look as Roman attempted to tell him off for something but most of his attempts boiled down to scoffs and groans of embarrassment. Virgil was left confused for a second before looking to his side and realising the problem.

He was lying atop Roman's lap.

That most likely meant that the soft, squishy thing he grabbed while 'sleeping' was Roman's-

Virgil shot up, whacking foreheads with Roman. He instantly pulled away from the princely side, finding himself lying in said side's lap beforehand. Virgil decided he hated all the terrible life decisions he made that lead up to this. It certainly didn't help that Virgil actually found Roman extremely attractive (as in his confidence is something Virgil...admired so to speak. The outfit helped some too) and he- Virgil craved death, that what he did at that moment, he craved death’s sweet, supple embrace. And he decided to spite Roman. Mostly spite Roman.

It was a while before Logan and Patton walked into the room and, at the sight of a rather dejected-looking Patton and a hesitant and oddly quiet Logan, Virgil seemed to suddenly remember exactly how he passed out. He could recall every bit of anger that had prickled his skin, anger aimed towards the usually unaggressive Logan. He could remember Patton's distraught tale of how his beloved had essentially flung him against a wall out of assumption. Virgil also vaguely remembered wanting to deck Roman for being rude to Patton. Either way, considering Patton and Logan's rather awkward silence, Virgil assumed the both had avoided talking while he was out.

God damn these two.

"I see my assumption that the series of peculiar noises that I assumed to be coming from Roman was a sign that Virgil was awake was correct. Great, now we can get onto questions because I, for one, have several," Logan commented upon seeing a conscious and seemingly active Virgil.

"Shoot," Virgil tucked his hands into his armpits as he braced himself for what he assumed would be like a police interrogation.

"Why on Earth did you try to punch me?"

Virgil knew it was coming, he knew that Logan was going to ask that question first and foremost. It was obvious why he would, Virgil nearly beat him to a pulp without warning or, seemingly, any provocation. The problem was that Virgil wasn't sure how to answer. He wasn't going to lie but, at the same time, he didn't want to out Patton to his crush. After all, it's not like he could just leave that part out, that's another version of lying plus Virgil was pretty sure that, if Patton hadn't been in love with Logan, he wouldn't have been so utterly broken by what Logan had done. He'd be upset, sure but he probably wouldn't have been as upset as he was. Virgil was pretty sure that Patton not loving Logan as much as he did would've made the situation better but he knew that this was partially his own fault as well. They should've talked this out without violent confrontation, if they'd have done that, Virgil wouldn't have passed out or grabbed Roman's…, he wouldn't be conflicted on what to do in this situation. This was his fault.

"Logan, look. I know you probably don't believe me and you probably think it's not even me but please listen to me for a minute,"

Virgil looked towards Patton who'd nervously been fiddling with his cat hoodie for the past few minutes. The eldest side was seemingly looking for the words to admit what he was about to say or maybe he was just trying to work up the courage to talk to Logan after everything that happened or maybe he was waiting for Logan's approval. Virgil wasn't sure but he was, at the very least, grateful that he didn't have to answer this alone.

"...Alright. I don't trust you completely yet but I'll listen," Logan held a harsh look at Patton but Virgil was almost certain that the black-clad side was looking for any hint that this Patton was the real, genuine Patton. Patton didn't seem to get that tone and instead thought the hardened gaze was meant to be harmful.

"Well...after you...you know…" Patton, fixed his gaze back on his hoodie that was tied around his shoulders.

"Yes?" Logan prompted harshly.

"After that whole...thing, I went to look for Virgil. Long story short, I found him in the mind lounge, I told him what happened when I went to give you and Roman the cookies I made. After I said what you did, he got really angry. I'm sorry for nearly getting you hurt, I wasn't expecting Virgil to get so angry," Patton grabbed the paws of his hoodie, feeling his finger along the grey fabric, tracing along the paw shape.

"But why did Virgil get so upset? I mean, what I did was rather despotic-"

"English, Logan,"

"What I did was rather harsh and ultimately unnecessary, I'll admit to that fault but Patton didn't seem extensively hurt after the incident. Also, the retelling assumably took place an extended period of time after the incident took place considering the fact that there was about a two-hour gap between when I confronted Patton and when Virgil had attempted to attack me so any minor injuries left after the confrontation would've been nulled by that point, correct? I just don't understand the seething anger that caused Virgil enough distress to attack me," Logan held a look of honest confusion, he legitimately didn't understand Virgil's anger despite displaying such anger once before, anger that was directed at an incredibly rude Roman. Well, it was downplayed anger but still, Logan held a discontented look and the emotion reflected in his tone, it was clearly there. It was then that Virgil remembered that this was Logan, he didn't understand emotions and it was the one thing he never seemed to want to understand. Of course he didn't get it.

"Logan, you shoved Patton into a wall and made him cry. Why wouldn't I be angry?" Virgil held a glare with the older side.

"Wait, why was Patton crying?" Logan asked.

The question had managed to shut Virgil up and Patton was clearly holding his attention to something else or, at least, he was trying to. Neither wanted to lie, neither wanted to tempt the serpent into their home. After all that had happened, none of the sides felt comfortable with lying at the moment, even if it was the smartest option in this instance. Virgil just fastened his head down, not talking. There was no way he was telling Patton's secret, that was for Patton to do, not him. The poor eldest side wasn't exactly able to lie though, he couldn't just say he wasn't a snake and then hiss. He was trying to get Logan to listen to him, trying to make the logical side believe that it really was Patton he was talking to. Lying was just going to set him back to first base.

But how was he supposed to reveal the truth, Patton couldn't just come out with his near lifelong crush right now! Not only did Logan not know if he was really Patton or not but Patton himself wasn't ready to admit his feelings. Logan had long been the main source of teasing comments about the emotional side and Patton wanted to at least know that Logan just liked him as a mutual before he came out with anything like a crush. And it's not like asking would be easy, it'd just seem really awkward (or maybe that was more a Virgil thing). Either way, the eldest side was stuck between a rock and a hard place and Virgil could just see how much anguish was building up within Patton. It didn't help that he'd have to answer quickly otherwise that's a lie of omission. He can't just lightly leave the crush part out either, also a lie of omission. Virgil let ideas form and subsequently die within his head as he tried to get Patton out of this. Unfortunately, the blue-clad side seemed to handle stress incredibly harshly.

Patton started crying.

It was a shock for both Roman and Logan to witness the joyful, parental and usually emotionally stable side just burst into legitimate sobs. To them, Patton was always the soft yet strong side, he was a parent after all and most parents pride themselves on being gentle enough to be kind to their kids yet strong enough as to withstand the storm of distressing and disheartening situations that the family would occasionally get into. Patton was good at hiding any pain he may have harboured, he took to grinning and bearing like a duck in shark-infested water. It was dangerous but Patton was a natural. The only side able to handle situations like this quite as well was usually Logan mainly because of his lack of emotions leading to either a calm-minded Logan figuring out a solution the others were too stressed out to find or a frustrated Logan due to the situation bringing out frustration at the lack of a solution.

Either way, Roman rushed to get tissues while Logan tried to, somewhat awkwardly, comfort Patton with simple pats on the eldest side's back. Virgil, at this point, had also gotten up to get some comfort food for the upset side, picking out a tub of ice cream he specifically had hidden away for himself from the freezer and a few cookies from the cookie tin. Settling back in the room, Virgil sat beside the blue-clad side, noting that Logan had upgraded from patting Patton's back to wrapping one arm around the fatherly side with the other one on his shoulder, Logan's thumb rubbing circles into his shoulder in an attempt to calm Patton down. Roman eventually came back with tissues, which Patton gratefully took.

It took awhile, most likely fifteen minutes but Patton eventually stopped crying and was just content to lay his head on an uncharacteristically bashful Logan's shoulder as said side kept his arms around the weary side using his shoulder as a headrest. Virgil's ice cream had been all but demolished and not even just because of Patton. Apparently Roman thought it appropriate to sneak a few spoonfuls for himself. Virgil couldn't do much more than glare at the arrogant prince who, immaturely, stuck his tongue out at the purple-clad side in response. All had become mostly calm with Logan requesting someone put some calming music on to make sure that the atmosphere stayed relaxed.

Apparently, relaxed wasn't what Roman was feeling after another five minutes had passed with Patton and Logan practically cuddling (though ask Logan and you would get an entirely different opinion).

"Roman, what're you pouting for?" Virgil asked after he'd noticed the princely side getting weirdly grumpy for seemingly no reason.

"It's nothing, I'm just a little tired and I missed my beauty nap earlier because of this and I didn't sleep well last night and-"

"Ok, geez, sorry I asked. Watch out, you might get scales if you keep all that lying up," Virgil rolled his eyes at the over-dramatic side. It was a simple question, he didn't need the prince's life story.

"Excuse you, I'd much rather assume that my nose would grow thank you very much!"

"So you admit you're lying? Also, you're made out of wood now? I mean, I guess that would explain your wooden acting,"

An offended gasp pierced the air. It was at that moment Virgil knew he'd screwed up.

The offended prince had taken a leap towards Virgil, grabbing him by the waist, before pulling the unsuspecting side into an angry hug. How could a hug be angry you ask? Virgil has no clue but Roman managed to make one and Virgil was squirming to get away from the sudden physical contact before Roman possibly tried giving him angry cheek kisses. Not that either Logan or Patton were particularly helpful at all as they watch from the side, Logan with a baffled expression and Patton with a grin. The eldest side was probably getting enjoyment from watching Roman and Virgil, he'd always mentioned to Virgil how he thought that the two of them would make a cute couple which prompted Virgil to reply with something similar with him and Logan. Virgil and Roman continued to argue while the prince held Virgil in his arms if this wasn't strange enough.

"What the $@#%?! Why?! Why hugging?!"

"Patton and Logan are snuggling, I need some love too and you're the only side available!"

"And you didn't ask my permission first?! What's with you princes and your lack of consent with intimacy! What's next, you gonna kiss me too?!"

"Need I remind you that you grabbed my tush! This is retribution for that misdeed!"

"I'm sorry, Virgil did what-"

"I was asleep! I had no idea what the hell I was grabbing!"

"And you call me out on a lack of consent? Pot calling the kettle black I see,"

"You know, I think that cactus over there would appreciate this more than I do. How about you go attack him with a hug,"

"Excuse you, I'm not hugging a cactus, Mr Snide!"

And so the four sides spent the rest of the day together, laughing and joking and having and Roman even got their respective packs of customised cookies to munch on with Patton revealing that he made similar cookies for Virgil. The four even decided to help the eldest side make more when they realised that said side didn't make cookies for himself. No mentions of a specific serpent were made, no lies threatened their friendship and the mindscape was at ease at last.

For now at least.

[theplagueofstars]

Inconsistency of motivations and it’s effect on plot

Warning: Major spoilers for Comrades under the cut. If you have not reached the end and do not want to be spoiled do not read.

With the addition of Comrades into the FFXV franchise we are delivered some additional lore and happenings with our characters and the side characters. This is great and not inherently a bad thing. We get to read about what happened to Talcott and a few of the others in the interim years. At the same time, however, I can not dismiss the haphazard and often lazy story telling devices that make a DLC like Comrades possible.

Allow me to put this out there: it is retconning. A lot of what happens to our glaives and Astral motivations in particular is retconning. Retconning by itself is not an inherently bad literally device if only an overused one in media. The most common reasons for retconning are [s]:

To accommodate desired aspects of sequels or derivative works which would otherwise be ruled out;

To correct and overcome errors or problems identified in the prior work since its publication;

To change how the prior work should be interpreted;

To match reality, when assumptions or projections of the future are later proven wrong.

Now for the purposes of what I am seeing and gleaning from Comrades in regard to your glaive and the Astrals falls under number 1 with a healthy sprinkling of 3. Again that is the frame of this post and nothing further.  

( Sidebar conversation: The reason many of us are attached to Comrades is the ability to create an avatar and have the feeling of effecting the world in some capacity. The avatar since we created we have more attachment towards because this is something we put thought into. It is human nature. Nothing wrong with it. )

We are introduced to our storyline with the following:

‘Your body is a vessel for the blessings of the stones of Lucis... but let it be known your transgressions have not been forgotten... only then shall you be set free from the burdens you bear.’

All right without delving into the lore hidden from us in the menu screen that expands as we progress we are led to believe that the Glaives despite lacking a pact with a living king have their powers back. It’s a stretch. Let us consider in Kingsglaive where Nyx and the others lose their powers upon the death of Regis whom they borrowed their power from. Regis dies. The glaives lose their power. Nyx had to plead to the kings of yore for a temporary leave of their power with a price to pay. The price being his life to ensure the future survives.

Yet, somehow the glaives have their powers back again without being connected to a living king to drain from. The explanation comes to us later that the glaives were granted this power by the graces of what Lunafreya did for Noctis during the battle with Leviathan.

So awakening the power of kings in Noctis somehow through an act of god gives these powers back to men and women whom were severed from them during Regis’ death. If the opening is led to be believed the ones whom were traitors to Lucis receive these powers. We are told nothing of the ones whom remained loyal ( if surviving ) were given the same ‘blessing’. Did their powers too return? Or are we only gifting them to the ones who were traitors to repent for their ‘sin’? Logically, we already see the first falling apart in answering this question. We shall reward the traitors, but curse the loyalists.

This is a sentiment that is later repeated in Bahamut’s entry ( further down the post ) and given that the main protagonist turns out to be a traitor too then we are giving a blessing as a curse to traitors. Man if I have to commit a sin to get awesome powers because some vague absolution of said sin, sign me the fuck up. 

Furthermore, if Luna could just enable the power of kings why do we need the ring aside from a conduit for the Crystal to dump its power into? Why do we need to collect the glaives of the old rulers when she can just ‘unlock’ the power? Why would Nyx need to sacrifice himself just to gain their power for one evening? Why would Ravus need to lose his arm for even trying on the ring?

See in Kingsglaive, there is a price for such power. It drains the king. If you want to obtain it without the king then you have a price to pay. Nyx paid with his life. But now the Kings of Yore are handing out their powers like candy at Halloween? I highly doubt Luna was begging them for assistance for anything other than PLEASE HELP NOCTIS WIN THIS FIGHT!

These kings also talk to the glaives. Yet, none of them talk to Noctis? Tell him of what is to come? They have spoken to Regis, but never Noctis. Though I am certain this was a device to keep us the players in the dark on the story there is a way of telling the player something the character knows but you don’t. Again this game is trivializing Noctis and further designating him as a lamb for slaughter. We, the Kings of Yore, can speak to some random glaives, but not the Chosen? Yeah I call bullshit.

And if I want to take this from another aspect: the power drains the king as seen with Regis... we are draining the Kings of Yore which Noctis needs to end the endless night ( more like endless twilight up until the last scene of Comrades tho ). Either way we have to completely disregard established canon in Kingsglaive to take Comrades additions as canon or disregard aspects of Comrades and take Kingsglaive as canon. You can not have both without the inconsistencies.

Astral Motivation

Otherwise known as the fickle, ever changing and wtfery.  The Astrals have always had poor lore in FFXV. Comrades further muddies the waters on Astrals and to a greater extend the prophecy. So what is the motivation for the gods you ask? Well to judge you of course for your sins! To designate your glaive, the traitor, as a Guardian of Angelgard! To bring back the light to Angelgard so Noctis can wake! So Noctis has been sleeping for 10 years not because of the Crystal needing to unleash its power onto the ring and by extension Noctis, but because we were waiting for random glaive to come and wake him?

Please point out anywhere in the prophecy this is mentioned. If anyone should be designated as Noctis’ guardians it should be the three following him around. But nah Bahamut is gonna just choose among some traitors to prove themselves for the honor. Not only that he is going to bestow his blessing and grace. Know what this flies in the face of?

The fact the Oracles and Kings are the only ones who can form such bonds with the gods. In a game where lore is so scant any small tidbit has to be taken into consideration. This is just another inconsistency in the story.

To further this odd motivation of Bahamut please take into account once again the language disparities. Here is the Spanish language version screenshot where it states your glaive is granted immortality and Bahamut’s blessing in battle. 

‘This divine holds a tight relationship with the Caelum House— the Glaives have an emblem with the figure that represents him. For the gods' benevolence he didn't have a death-like slumber, but came back to give a chance of expiation to the Glaives who confronted the very crown which they were meant to serve and which they've got their powers from. It was expected of the Glaives to be capable of protecting their own until the incoming King awakened, to earn enough power to give everything for the royal house, thus cleanse their traitor image. And it was those who showed the required qualities to become guardians of Lucis received from Bahamut an immortal body and his eternal blessing on battle.’ — ( translation provided by @umbraticum )

So the glaives are immortal now. But another thing to note here absolving your glaive of sin returns the light to Angelgard.

Look at that beautiful sunlight. I guess we didn’t need the Chosen King after all. We kick Bahamut’s ass enough to absolve us of our sins and the sun will return! Quick everyone in Eos get over here to kick Bahamut’s ass.

Back to the point of retconning this lessens the impact of Noctis’ sacrifice and draws further question if this whole elaborate thing was needed at all. We just need to absolve mankind of theirs sins to return the light after all.

Also flies in the face of a certain document we find in Lestallum that the Scourge is caused by a parasitic organism drinking the light. But nah. Just gotta absolve mankind of its sin.

I know this was addition to make our OC glaives appear to have a real impact on the story, but really this inclusion cheapens the sacrifices of Nyx, Luna, and Noctis if all we needed to do was this.

Also how can the gods not guard Angelgard themselves? They were already doing so before you arrived. Are they really just that lazy and hands off? Which they have been nearly the entire game, so now out of the blue Bahamut needs a bunch of traitors to become his champions?  The gods have been if anything thus far but cold and calculating on the execution of the prophecy. So once again I ask, where was any of this detailed?

The Final Scene

You know what was great about scene of Noctis waking up on the island? The desolation. The hopelessness. The lack of life. The feeling we need to do something as players as Noctis to restore the world because this isn’t acceptable. By the inclusion of the glaive team and Gentiana at the boat we are greatly lessening that impact and in turn giving a very different vibe. It takes away from the desolation we are supposed to feel.

These are questions the Comrades DLC poses and to me negates some of the sacrifices these other characters made to be able to fit in MP with a storyline. And let me real here: This storyline sounds shoehorned in because it is. The concept of the multiplayer DLC was not in the original plans for the game during autumn of 2016 [s] .

As a whole Comrades lore regarding the glaives and the gods is murky, inconsistent, and often flies in the face of canon. As such I wish to consider Comrades at best a nice AU in an attempt to include us the players into the game and feel like we have an impact and at worst a money grab by Square to ride on that sweet, sweet MP hype.

In closing this is a fine example of....

A Systematic Issue in the Gaming Industry

Let’s be real FF as a whole have always suffered from a suspension of disbelief to make the stories work. There have always been logical fallacies and inconsistencies within their works. However, ( aside from the complication of FFVII ), have not broken a fundamental storyline aspect in the game. Comrades does exactly this. It was created after the fact for Square Enix to cash in on both the hype of FFXV and the shoving multiplayer in games fad ( see Deus Ex ) sweeping the game industry as a whole, they went and retconned their story with little regard to the original tale.

This brings up an even more disconcerting trend. The fact I, as a fan and consumer, have to purchase add-on DLC that effects the main storyline so completely is frankly a bunch of horseshit. It is a precedent in the gaming industry that is predatory and an obvious money grab. In the case of Comrades a cash grab for the hype of Multiplayer. DLC should not fundamentally alter the storyline. I should not need to purchase paid DLC to understand the entirety of a story a game or any media is trying to tell.

Now I await the day one of the updates adds micro-transactions to deal with the Comrade’s grinding problem. 8) I hope I’m wrong on that. If you enjoy Comrades and playing the game go ahead that is your right. Enjoy the fuck out of it. I only mean to draw attention to the issues that this DLC adds to the game and how Square Enix is falling into that AAA game predatory customer mindset.

[ratherhavetheblues]

CLAIRE DENIS’ TROUBLE EVERY DAY “It doesn’t fit”

© 2020 by James Clark

   The films of Claire Denis tend to elicit a tribute to her audacity. On the heels of that given, there is the thrill of a supposed pronounced modernity. Viewers and reviewers directly understand that narrative means virtually nothing to her, because her forte is “mood” and “texture,” being apparently applied in such a way as to constitute a new and superior logic.

A film like, Trouble Every Day (2001), our challenge today—and quite widely thought to be her breakaway magnum opus—happens to be suffused with not only the narrative of Ingmar Bergman’s film, Scenes from a Marriage (1973), but also Bergman’s, The Passion of Anna (1969); and more Bergman to come. Those infrastructural crises therewith, which Denis handles—as always, with sophistication and delicacy—do not, in fact, countenance cannibalism  as a cosmological method. Nor do they countenance a mobilization of neuroscience to develop a medicine to curb sadistic murder by which the gratification remains, but free of messy bloodshed and messy law.

It must be made clear from the outset that Denis has no time, per se, for the infantile fantasy-pastime of vampires. Two broad hints concerning that matter should suffice. In connection with the stately Japanese filmmaker, Yasujiro  Ozu, she shuts the door in this way: “I dislike cinephilia and the cult of auteurism” [which is to say, genre, tried and true entertainments, like horror movies]. A second distancing, from a BBC broadcast on the subject of violence in, Trouble Every Day, says a mouthful: “This film concerns what happens when you tangle with something that is stronger than you are.”

Moreover, the gauntlet she tosses down comprises a showdown—involving a Shane being a shame far from well-known and far from readily resolved. We will have many opportunities here, to ponder its features. But its amazing overture should come first.

On a black screen, we hear a keyboard placing three beats, for a baseline, a calm baseline. A slight lift of intensity in that poise discloses a couple parked in the night. The woman’s presence is a sketch of blackness with a touch of her white shoulders and face. She is in her forties as is he. She is a blonde, and she’s smiling. Slowly they kiss. The musical motif spreads unhurriedly. He strokes her throat. A more earthy kiss ensues. A singer with a low voice covers the rest of this vignette, in voice-over.

Look into my eyes.

You see trouble every day.

It’s on the inside,

So don’t try to understand.

(The kiss endures.)

I get on the inside of you.

You can blow it all away,

Such a slight breath.

And I know who I am.

(The screen becomes black. A refrain in strings intensifies the mood.)

Look into my eyes…

Hear the words I can’t say…

Words that defy…

And they scream out loud.

(A Gallic air takes form, in the key of Marianne, having been released from the days of eighteenth-century revolution and reason. [A protagonist, in Scenes from a Marriage, is named Marianne—ironically!] And here the ancient stones, defining the riverbank of the Seine, solidify with a warm golden glow. Upon that stage, two golden pillars and a silver to their right describe the makings of an interplay, an interplay crucial to the work of Ingmar Bergman.)

I get on the inside of you.

You can wave it all away,

Such a slight thing,

It’s just the raise of your hand…

(Two reddish statements, and a golden between, followed by the morning sky with pink and purple clouds racing across the firmament.)

And there’s trouble every day,

There’s trouble every day,

There’s trouble every day,

There’s trouble every day.

(The luminous blue, carrying the title upon black, becomes sliced, rippling on the Seine, a reminder that trouble every day stems from a horde of resentment that life is harder than most want to engage.)

The penultimate coda of this dazzling lightshow involves apparitions in the sky and reverberance down low. Two down beats, and a cut to an appalling love. However, it’s probably advisable to go slowly from the highs to the lows. At the outset of Bergman’s The Passion of Anna, Andreas, a farmer/ artisan smiles when noticing a lovely, unusual color in the sky while trying to repair his broken roof. He becoming a disgrace, unable to counter Anna’s evil; and also Marianne, proving to be deviously rational and frivolously rebellious—they  marshaling their incompetence in the twentieth century. But we encounter here a toehold of another, new century which finds “real security” [Anna’s mantra] to inhere in a huge and remarkably homogeneous gratification free from ever having to engage in bona fide grown-up reflection. We begin our conundrum back in the skies with a  commercial jet in flight, focused upon the “First Class” area, where a couple of newlyweds toast their honeymoon to Paris with champagne. June, the glowing bride, is about to join the other’s mentioned as being a great disappointment, and even so far as being Gallic. But the disappointments here require innovation to fathom, due to the glue sticking to so many souls. Her first presentation is to refer to the map on the screen confronting her at the seat ahead of her. The schematic diagram resembles the features of a video game, but she discloses, “That must be Denver” [airport]. Denver or not, the payoff, identifying them as very likely Californians, is valuable orientation. Its irony goes a long way, to Marianne’s estranged husband, Johan, a neuroscientist (in Stockholm, in the twentieth century), who was slated to be the new Chair at a university in Cleveland—Cleveland, in the parlance of Bergman, and latterly Jim Jarmusch and his friend, Claire Denis, standing for very poor grades. As it happens, Johan is found to be lacking, and he doesn’t get to enjoy Cleveland. But here—with a kind of behind-the-back-basketball-move—he becomes known to one, Shane, the new groom, also a neuroscientist. And though they occupy discrete centuries, a cinematic current has sprung up (as deft as a Bergman drama), because all these folks carry troubling, though variant, traits, by which one might sharpen a keener sense of present dilemmas and promising delights.

   Shane’s namesake, a film figure from the previous century, and a generous loner, in fact, quickly becomes an obverse in the new century. Later that night, he visits the bathroom. His mission, though, is very odd, namely, a protracted fantasy of June, nude, covered in blood. He savors that shock; and now we have to get down to brass tacks about lovemaking in this groom’s perspective. To convey what transpires here in all its baffling flight, we’ll complete that down beat, snubbing all the vivacity having been put on display at that remarkable overture, a gift including a down beat of its very own, whereby a touch of motion reveals a very different world—a world of quiet, infinite ecstasy having been instrumentally joined by a finite sensibility deriving its gifts of action from a matrix of paradoxical love. (The musical opening, by an agency called “Tindersticks,” will have bid to bring us to that love.) That it is vastly bound to a process which “can wave it all away,” becomes the core of this crisis and the introduction of one of the masters of bloodshed, namely, “Core,” on tap by way of that wayward down beat.

There is much about her that is a common hooker, preening that day by her ugly van in a part of the outskirts never having been graced by a serious thought. A truck driver, with his windows decorated with hanging  toys, perhaps prizes from festivities of “games of skill,” bites on the lure. (Neither of them can compare with the huge vehicle, particularly its slats of rubber on its side, bringing to mind an elephant.) We see close-up her hyena-eyes; and we link them to the pink clouds there, above a hodge-podge of electrical towers, charmless of course, as is its worn-out golden patina up there. We’re spared the transaction itself; but the kill on the ground tells what has occurred. From out of a pretext of pleasurable coitus, her intensities slide, in a one-track race (where tempering is there to show discipline) to punishment and its dominance, its advantage over others. The grotesque corpse has been not only beaten, but eaten as would a wild beast. The ambiguities of that phenomenon lead us to vast intricacies of contemporary struggle and delight.

We should consider the year—2001—when this film was produced. In Denis’ France, religious fanatics had had a decade-long field day butchering “infidels.” Then there was 9/11, and more of the same. Then a blizzard of school shootings. Then Trump. All of whom fatally lacking intrinsic nuance. This was, then, a world history Bergman never encountered in the form of undeclared wars. That violence, however, as Denis well knows, intersects with a rage of blind self-esteem and a leveraging of effete affluence to dispense with the demands of nature itself. Anna’s rampage could identify a cause—“Security,” however puerile. What our guide is engaging in this film is a tidal wave of energy for the sake of destroying depths, those depths seen in the overture.

   The immediate sequel to that slaughter at the highway tends to sprout parody. Core is braced with a former neuroscientist whom everyone calls, “Leo.” (He being in the footsteps of Johan, the self-styled, “sexy-guy”/ psychologist, and whom Shane has far more interest in than with June. That would leave Core, the new Marianne, as a kind of lawyer shark, always on the go.) Leo’s a bust as an inventor of a panacea for cannibalism—Shane’s only interest; but he’s a kind of sheep dog in rounding up wayward, Core. (Though just as basely naïve as the other members of that scientistic cult, Leo is the only one having been visited—slightly—about the farce of his “researches.” [His pratfall falls in line with the sterility of Johan’s embarrassments in the rat-race to bring cogency where, in fact, another range of cognition beckons while at the same time the straitjacket of “hard” science prevails. His dashing optics on his chic motorcycle to finesse his partner’s indiscretion involves his cleaning up the blood and flesh lingering upon her face and body. The gentleness of this concern places him [in fact much older than the other protagonists] as making a hapless equilibrium while the callow pipsqueaks of his sad mistake consult their inner child.) Whereas Johan and Marianne were regarded—by a socialite magazine—to be perpetually honeymooners, the this-century honeymooners sport all woolen apparel, in the spirit of Bergman’s, The Serpent’s Egg (1977); but very much also bringing to the table the rigor of Anna, the slasher of flocks of sheep. (Abel, in The Serpent’s Egg, having also been a blue-blood, and even more dysfunctional than the protagonists in Scenes from a Marriage. Shane and June’s plane, about to land, cruises over Leo and Core’s dead-end. Along a spiral staircase there, we notice a stained-glass window, reminding us of the skillful, bemusing and feckless artisan, Andreas, in Anna’s blistering saga, where an outrage would be a one-person idiocy, not a generational idiocy.

As such, the arrival of the Californian lovebirds at their five-star hotel involves a woman taxi driver dressed like a polite apache—exactly what an LA up-and-coming would like to see through his ridiculously stunted vision. The two of them in their woolen garb (he in baby-blue) create a little buzz when the desk clerk sees that the establishment has been chosen by a “Doctor” Brown. (Blue on the outside, shit on the inside.) Before that, the rather morose visitor rubs his eyes continually, leaving the servant behind the desk ill at ease. Shane, the name being a non-stop joke, demands someone handle the bags, which elicits from the staffer, “Quite so, Mr. Brown!” The porter chosen is a young girl, Christelle,  one of the chambermaids on their floor. From out of his adolescent reflexes, he treads closely behind the girl, intent on her nape, and once into their room, with Christelle beginning to make the bed (June helping her), he flops upon it, as so many snotnoses would find to be part of his supposed mystique. (This bit of distemper had been preceded by his formulated carrying of June across the threshold to be deposited on the bed. The threshold included the room’s number, 321—a backward slapdash, failing totally to attain to the sublime.) The unflappable, deadpan maneuvering by Christelle in face of the ugly American, is right out of Samuel Beckett’s play, Waiting for Godot (1953). (Real surreal France, by way of an Irishman.)

Before the full-scale damage gets underway, we want to savor another instance, this time in the old century, of that rugged individualism evincing from Christelle. In her capacity of divorce lawyer, Marianne comes across what she would tend to refer to as an unskilled laborer—the middle-aged client using the term, “housewife.” The latter, otherwise comfortable with an attentive husband, insists that her marriage lacks cogent love, and that she’s determined to attempt to discover the real thing. Marianne, the daughter of a lawyer and looking down her nose at the audacity of small cash-flow, finding something her sainted family wouldn’t touch, concludes the interview with candid frostiness. Shane—a mid-century name for courage—will eventually butcher the young laborer, being a measure of how Bergman’s troubled souls had it relatively easy.

The honeymooners choose Notre Dame Cathedral to extend their questionable tour of the City of Light. Instead of pondering the structure itself, and its functions, Shane, beyond redneck, regards the ancient recipient of intense reflection to be a pretext for recalling a Hollywood melodrama. On an exterior height he thinks to be funny by igniting the Hunchback of Notre Dame and Phantom of the Opera. There also he plays a stiff-corpse vampire. June proves to be only too polite here, showing that (as we’ll discover), whatever her French life before the rich Californian came into it, it has capitulated to an ugly know-nothing. And then a turnaround—not for them, of course—brings to the melancholy trek a sign of deep joy. Up there pissing around, her green headscarf catches a welcome gust, and both of them gaze as it soars above the ancient buildings and bridges. The limestone-white baseline of the City becomes touched by that verdancy. In another Bergman film, namely, Summer Interlude (1951), many such vivacious happenings occur, as if drawing a self-important figure to get real. There it’s called a “glitch.” And the ballerina being summoned to no avail stays mediocre. (Just before Christelle is attacked by the American—June’s aunt having referred to him as “like a church mouse”—the chambermaid soaks her aching feet in a sink, in the nether part of the palace. The supple motions of her simple bath links her to the disappointing ballerina. Christelle [and also Marianne’s annoying client]  had lived in a vague but viable terrain of the “glitch,” which appears in spades at that glorious overture. Cadging goodies from the carts, when the coast is clear; lying back on Shane and June’s bed, smoking one of their cigarettes, when the coast is clear; and, when approached by Shane in the deserted changing room, she grabs on to some social climbing by way of the rude rich boy, Christelle has a way to go. But, in a population running on empty, nothing but deep lucidity works. The lady eclipsing Marianne, in the old century, would have had room to slip. The prima ballerina therein could fool herself that a little gust of whimsy amounts to, “I’m actually happy!”  Christelle, we realize, doesn’t have the luxury of not knowing how to beat the odds. There is as much metaphor as gore in this film’s disclosure. Cannibalism spreads a wide net, never more lethal than when being “inspirational.”)

   Shane, seldom asleep and seldom with June—“I like you June,” is his flaming—has come to the honeymoon capital to reboot a last-ditch effort to find merit in Leo’s hapless cure for going too far. He arranges a visit to Leo’s former high watermark, where the scientist now in control rains on his millennial binge. “So as far as what he discovered, don’t make me laugh! I hope you haven’t come all this way for that nonsense…” Shane, incorrigible, latches on to a maternal colleague of the skeptic—who, were he truly bright, would not be wasting his on time, in that lab, with a daft green liquid on an endless mechanical revolution, in the service of plumbing the human sensibility—who surreptitiously arranges a meeting by which the elusive Leo can be found. (The harsh treatment [scientific advantage] spins Shane into a reverie of another embarrassing disadvantage he had endured at the hands of someone who at least would not be a fan of vaping. [Very much now being a case of choose your poison. Prior to that retreat, we see June in a black, woolen hijab.] The plunge to that painful memory involves the deflated, so-called investigator, covering himself into bed, fully clothed. As with the lab of hard knocks, the flash-back displays human brains and PhDs hoping to confirm the dynamic of consciousness there. But unlike the first critic, sneering at Leo as a feeble theoretical innovator, this apparition, and its flaming redhead boss, shows contempt to Shane, for stealing the possible revenues of Leo’s long and sad foolishness. “You like money, don’t you Shane?”/ “So what? I convinced my boss to take an interest of a Frenchman working on a shoestring budget. That’s all…” The questioner turns to his affair with Core. He, church mouse style, emotes, “Love is not the word for it.” Openly hating this little creep, she asks, “You believed the lawyers, Brown? What about betrayal? What’s your stance about betrayal, Mr. Brown?… Semenal was the game, and you knew it… Huge profits were to be made… You stole Leo’s work and wife. Now get out of here…Get out!”)

The sympathetic lab lady does show the way to Leo (Shane predictably rude). But the real gift from that transaction is another of the ladies in lab coats at the former lair of Leo wishing she could have a six-month vacation. Overhearing that impossibility, the one who fired Leo has going through his mind, and giving us a flash-back, the permanent vacation of the accident-prone mediocrity. (This extended tapestry of despair lives up to Bergman’s theatrical incisiveness.) Leo tells the power that be, “You know that I don’t ask for much. Just a favor. I need a little time. You can help me…” But getting things right may take initiative first, and then a “favor.” The response to Leo seems to corroborate that action. “It doesn’t fit!…It does not fit!” [a stupid, essentially cowardly gesture, goes nowhere but disaster].

Shane arrives in time for the auto-de-fe which Core choreographs after another kill, this time in their own abode. Leo had arrived, to stand in that conflagration, relieved, at last, from a disaster of smarts, beyond his vision, and, moreover, a failure of courage on the scale of an epidemic. (Shane, too, had arrived after the blaze had begun, where he felt necessary to both attempt to rape her, and, facing her teeth, kill her—making his getaway, as would Anna.) Two compensatory moments have been brought to bear. Although the death toll includes the odd couple and their worm-worn exterior—a grateful dead on top of a perverse career—the lovely collie dog included from out of a “glitch”-prone taxi culture our protagonist uses, puts the cold American freak to shame; as does the tapestry of blood by Core (not unlike the work of Jean-Michel Basquiat).

But, come to think of it, there’s a third lift, this time wafting into the horror from a long time ago, namely, the Alfred Hitchcock “mystery,” The Lady Vanishes (1938), also on a cusp where the planet teeters toward utter nullity. Across the way from Leo and Core’s, there are two young men presenting many surprises. The first being, that though they speak French, they are as British blokes as the British blokes in the Hitchcock film, rushing across the Continent, by train, to catch the last days of the cricket Test Match. Their crowning indiscretion is curious concupiscence about the bizarre fortress and the glimpses of Core at her upper windows’ prison. After some false starts, they breach the barricades (Leo now at work as a mild-mannered general physician, in lieu of Superman), and one of them falls prey to Core’s predilection for shock and awe. That would be the risk-taker of the pair, hungry for perhaps going viral on Twitter and Facebook. (This recalls the puerile ballerina, in Summer Interlude, after her first  bout of lovemaking, claiming that the boy, far more capable of love than she, will now brag about it to his friends.) His avuncular buddy proves that he is more than a one-track mind, warning often that the break and entry should be rapidly abandoned. Eventually, this other disturbing pair of love birds leaves Core drenched in the bloke’s blood and with shards of the boy’s chin sticking on her cheeks, at which time the petrified friend retreats to the house across the street. In the Hitchcock, both cricket crazies claim that they had never noticed that there was an elderly lady, across the aisle from them, not to mention that she had now become missing. Missing links being an epidemic.

We’ll catch Shane up, in the aftermath of dragging a bloody Christelle to a less used area, as if she were a victim of the bull ring. He buys a sweet puppy, in hopes of compensating June’s being largely abandoned in the Love Capital. (On the way home, standing in the Metro, he sandwiches the little innocent between him and a woman. A young woman glares at the jerk, but glaring is all she does.) June has found the pup, and also she has located her husband, in the shower. She calls out several times, with some asperity. He ignores her calls, concerned with giving himself a much-needed clean-up, where blood overtly streams on the shower curtain. The shower eventually ends, and he’s seen in close-up, as if all is well. Pan to June, giving him a stressful look. Then close-up to him and his patented dead eyes. She again is seen, with the scab of her cut lip. “Thanks for the dog,” she says, knowing it won’t be theirs for long.  He flashes a facile grin, and says, “I feel good… C’mon…” They kiss. She notices a little flow of blood coming down the shower curtain. [More Hitchcock.] “I wanna go home,” he mumbles. “OK,” she woodenly tells. And the blood-red leather gloves she’s wearing holds the disinterested creature. A muffled roar. A close-up of her eyes discloses a puzzle. Her eyes suddenly open wide. Another stream of Christelle’s blood occurs on the curtain; it might have proved embarrassing, if anyone there had cared a damn. Losing her evocative green scarf, she ends up with a Notre Dame tourist scarf with four views of Jesus.

The partnership between Denis and Tindersticks represents a unique inroad of the history of cinema. (Compare this innovation with Bergman’s standing pat with mainstream classical composition, perhaps measuring the distance from old to new). From out of the recent disc, “No Treasure but Hope,” here’s a bit of lightning readily readable. Whereas the soundtrack of “Trouble Every Day” comprises a melancholy tone poem, the tune here uses its pregnant thrum to make merry with irony and gentle love.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7q9MY-tQbpw