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beardycarrot · 4 years ago

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I, lying awake in bed because that’s how it always is the day before you have something important to do... am going to try to guess what the plot of Bioshock Infinite is, based on what I’ve seen in the first few hours and with knowledge of the other two (and a half?) games. Spoilers for the entire Bioshock series, except maybe Infinite, but I intend to knock it out of the park.

So. The first Bioshock is set in a futuristic (by 1950’s standards) city at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean, created by a hardcore libertarian named Andrew Ryan as a way to once and for all live in a society free of government regulation. I won’t get into all the “sea slugs that produce a gene-altering wonder drug” and “child slaves brainwashed to drink corpse blood” stuff; very interesting, very important to the plot, but if I tried to explain the world of Bioshock I’d be lying here typing on my phone until the sun comes up. That stuff aside, the major plot points are that you’re not actually a guy who just happened to crash-land near the entrance to the city but are, in fact, Andrew Ryan’s son, and the guy who’s been guiding you through the city was actually using a Manchurian Candidate-style activation phrase to manipulate you into doing whatever he wanted. It’s a big, mind-blowing reveal (as is the realization that your character is actually about four years old... science fiction, man).

Bioshock 2 didn’t really have any big plot twists... or plot, for that matter ...but it was developed by an entirely different team, while the original’s team also did Infinite, so I’m expecting a return to form. Just as an aside, Bioshock 2 had a short DLC campaign called Minerva’s Den, which had a fantastic story, and a twist that the player can figure out on their own if they’re paying attention. Your goal is to get a very smart computer (for 1968) out of the underwater city and back to the surface so you can use it to cure all the victims of the slug-borne gene manipulation, and you’re guided over radio by the computer’s creator. At the end, you learn that the one guiding you was actually the computer itself, and that you’re its creator, slowly recovering from brainwashing. For the record, the endings to all three of these have made me cry.

So! With those kinds of twists in mind, what am I expecting from Bioshock Infinite? Well, I went into the game only knowing the names of the protagonists, that rather than underwater it was set in a floating sky city, and that there was some kind of religious theming but also a lot of old-timey Americana. As it turns out, the people of this city worship— no, have DEIFIED the founding fathers, and are lead by a man called Father Comstock. I’m pretty sure that name is a reference to the Comstock Act, similar to Andrew Ryan being named after Ayn Rand... but he could actually be called Father Cornstalk and I just haven’t been paying attention.

Anyway. Just a few minutes into the game, I noticed that a statue of Comstock looked suspiciously similar to my character... before deciding that I didn’t actually have that clear of a mental image of my character, they wouldn’t pull the “secret son” thing twice, and as much as I love it there probably isn’t going to be any time travel. Le sigh.

UNTIL!

So, your goal is to get a girl named Elizabeth out of the city, and there is some legitimately weird stuff going on with her prison. Like, they have some of her personal possessions from various points in her life in containment: a teddy bear, a diary, and a bloody cloth labeled “menarche”. Gross. Why would you keep that. Well, when an electric current (or something visually similar) is applied, the bear and diary change color, and the blood disappears from the cloth. The reason I’m not sure if it’s electricity is that there’s some kind of siphon system set up, it looks like a bunch of subwoofers, and it’s absorbing... something? When she sings, maybe? Is the energy being siphoned what changed the quantum states of those objects, or whatever was happening? There was also a chart showing that when she hit puberty... something, really spiked, which is what forced them to build the siphon. I can’t claim to know what’s happening here, but when I finally saw her she was day dreaming about Paris, and.. I guess opened some kind of portal, TO Paris? But then a bus or something barreled towards her, so she quickly closed it. In the couple seconds that the portal was open, I saw the marquee on a movie theater that... well, was in French, but I’M PRETTY SURE said “Return of the Jedi”. I should probably mention that this game is set in 1912. That smells like time travel to me, baby!

So, this is where it gets interesting, and confusing, and complicated. I think Elizabeth is Comstock’s daughter, from various signs and posters about Comstock’s seed being their salvation, and The Lamb of God being locked in the tower, and such... and signs about a “false shepherd” who would try to take her away (again, lots of weird divergent Christian sect stuff). One sign showered the false shepherd’s hand as having the initials AD branded on the back, which the protagonist Booker does indeed have. Before rescuing Elizabeth, Comstock confronts you, and seems to know all about Booker’s past, including his wife Anna (who died in childbirth), and claims to know his future as well. Being a prophet and such. Thing is, the way it’s presented, that whole thing could’ve all been in Booker’s head...? Shortly after rescuing Elizabeth, you run into someone who mistakes her for someone named Annabelle. Hmm HMMM. I’ve also run into a diary by someone named Rosalind Lutece (I think she’s one of the creepy twins who keep popping up everywhere) talking about physics and what sounded like the concept of quantum superpositioning, as well as a little informational kiosk in which she claims quantum mechanics are what enable the city to float. There were also a couple diaries that seemed to imply Elizabeth came from... somewhere else, and a part of her might still be there, or something?

SO. Finally, we get to the part where I theorize on what’s going on. In short... iunno.

Okay, well, I feel like my idea should be obvious by now. I think Comstock might be a future, or ALTERNATE REALITY FUTURE, version of Booker, and Elizabeth is... either a past version of his wife, before she went back in time and married him, or an alternate-reality version of his daughter? But then who is the Annabelle that the girl thought Elizabeth was? Did Booker’s child not die along with his wife, and was secretly wisked away to skytown? Comstock’s wife is consistently referred to as Lady Comstock, but what if her name is Annabelle too? Maybe it’s the same concept as the Heinlein story By His Bootstraps, with the protagonist only realizing that he IS now the old man from the beginning, and has to get his younger self into this weird time loop in order to live the life he’s lead?

I might be going a little off the rails; I mean, I’m pretty sure that the statue of Comstock I saw earlier actually reminded me of Handsome Jack, a character from another game I haven’t played who happens to wear an outfit similar to Booker’s. That said, there’s DEFINITELY some kind of time travel or dimension-hopping shenanigans going on here. There are good writers on this game, and I refuse to believe the Annabelle/Anna thing is a Batman v Superman-level coincidence.

The weird part is that in the tower where they were keeping Elizabeth, they have documentation of her dating back to one year old, so she was clearly exhibiting... something, unusual, even as a baby. The game also has yet to explain Vigors, its versions of the Plasmids from the first two Bioshock games, which were basically superpowers granted by the substance produced by those sea slugs. If I had to guess, Vigors are... a result of some kind of quantum something-or-other, which they made from whatever it is they were siphoning off of Elizabeth? Maybe it’s a Scarlet Witch kind of thing... you don’t actually change yourself, you just find yourself in an alternate reality where everything else is 100% the same, except you’re a version of yourself who can shoot crows out of your hands.

Right, so. My... official theory is... that... I have no idea what’s going on. Yeah, sorry, something in that mess up there is bound to be close, but when you get into time travel and/or dimension-hopping, all bets are off the table. Or all bets, a literally infinite number of bets, are on the table. Which is a lot to try to comprehend.

#bioshock #bioshock infinite #bioshock spoilers

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kanralovesu · 4 years ago

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The Narrative Devices of “Minecraft Speedrunner VS 4 Hunters” (One of the greatest Shonen anime OVAs of all time?)

With over 17 million views and counting, this video of one man attempting to beat Minecraft while 4 other players chase him has become a huge success and its not hard to see why. The video is exciting and tense to a completely new viewer while still carrying with it the 32 million fans of the previous video in the series and the 29 million fans of the video before that. While those videos are also amazing, as a newcomer when I watched the vs4 addition I couldn’t help but dive deeper than I had any right to into WHY this video was not just exciting and tense but also a master of storytelling. So today lets run down a couple of extremely common narrative devices and structures that this video uses and possibly how Minecraft as a game contributes to this.

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The High Concept

What if a bunch of teenagers were forced to fight each other by a tyrannical government? What if humans revived the dinosaurs but were unable to contain their power? What if 1 player is pitted against 4 others in a race to beat Minecraft?

High Concepts are quick, catchy premises that the story is centered around. They’re designed to get butts in seats by targeting people before the piece of media has actually begun. Once you’re watching, the High Concept needs to be played with an drawn to its natural conclusion in order to satisfy readers who were likely drawn in specifically because of that premise.

The Minecraft Hunters video does this multiple times when the person being hunted suddenly becomes the Hunter. While not inherit to the premise, this is a logical leap the audience can make that in order to be safe the hunted must get rid of the hunters.

The Hook

Its become part of the James Bond formula now to start every movie with a big, bombastic fight scene and that’s for good reason. Once someone has decided to view your media they’re still not necessarily invested yet. In an age of Netflix where you can flip to a new movie at the click of a button, a proper hook keeps the audience watching, provides a promise of things to come and leads into the first lull in action where more exposition can be given.

In the Minecraft Hunters video we get a brief bit of exposition explaining the high concept and then its off to the races. One extremely fun thing the video does is bait you into thinking they’re going to stand around and explain things more when out of no where Dream punches and runs. The following chase is a classic James Bond opening scene. It also sets up mechanics that are used multiple times in the run such as towering. Like any good action scene it ends on a twist and then immediately the pace slows and we see Dream doing his first real resource gathering. The stage is set!

The Underdog Hero

A main character is an action movie or shonen anime narrative is often a paradox: they are an unkillable, hero, one man army and yet constantly the underdog. This is because the character cannot die (or the franchise is over), but at the same time a constant tension must be maintained that losing is possible. People also naturally want to root for underdogs its important to include this aspect of your character to make them relatable. The most common ways you can pull this off is to take a heroic person and either give them an impossible task or to pit them against multiple opponents or both (think a heist movie where there are several guards defending the vault). Naturally, the High Concept of this video leads itself to doing both of these things, turning Dream into the ultimate Underdog Hero.

As a side note, the antagonists of the series, the Hunters, are character more similar to a shonen anime rival as opposed to a more western style of villain. Its all in good fun and you’re less rooting against them as you are rooting for Dream.

Chekhov's Gun

Named after the principle that if a gun is shown in a room someone is bound to grab it and use it, this refers to the general idea of setup and payoff. There are 2 major uses of Chekhov’s Gun in the video and they each have different delays between the setup and payoff.

The first is the Strider Saddle play and its perfect to illustrate the concept. First we see Dreams find his first Nether Fortress, killing a Wither Skeleton and opening a chest. We see him pick up the Saddle but we cut away and don’t belabor the point. This is because only 2 minutes later we see him use the Saddle to escape on a Strider.

The second is the Frost Walker boots. Dreams find a Nether Portal structure in the overworld and finds these in a chest at the 9 minute mark, well before the Strider play. At about the 10:30 mark we get this extremely exaggerated scene where Dream uses the Frost Walker boots in front of us and highlights the item. Then its not until 16 minutes later than he uses the boots to kill the hunters via fall damage.

So whats essentially going on here is different levels of setup based on how soon the payoff is coming. For a quick payoff we don’t need to draw attention to the setup because the audience will naturally have a short term memory of the recent events. However for the long term payoff we need to be primed to pay attention to a certain thing. When we see Dreams showing off the Frost Walker boots we internalize “this will be important later”. You’ll also notice that Minecraft’s game design helps prime you to remember these Chekhov’s Guns: both items being found in very noticeable and memorable structures not just dug up from a generic piece of dirt. (This also applies to the 3rd Chekhov’s Gun I didn’t touch on for time concerns, the TNT from the Pyramid)

You’ll also notice that the video uses a Chekhov’s Gun in arguably the most effective way, as a twist. We need only think back to early Naruto to know how effective a twist Chekhov’s Gun can be in a shonen fight. You never forget the first time you saw Shikamaru win Chuuin exam fight by using the hole Naruto created during his duel.

The Three Act Structure

I’m sure we all have heard of the 3 act structure before. While they go by many names lets go with Setup, Confrontation, Resolution for now. The key is having a cycle of tension and release while still slowly escalating tension over the course of the show. The video neatly divides into Overworld, Nether and End sections which translate very well into the 3 act structure.

Tension is slowly escalating because each new dimensions has more and more hazards. This is of course Minecraft’s game design doing the heavy lifting, however the End in the hunter’s realm is a lot more dangerous considering its a closed off arena where Dreams can’t just escape, he has to fight.

There are also cycles of tension and release. Naturally tension builds up while a chase is happening and then we get some time to relax after Dreams escapes. However, what I want to focus on is how each increasing dimension gives an opportunity for the players to find each other again. Each step in the Nether counts for 8 in the Otherworld, so even if Dreams built a far away Nether portal on the surface he would still be closer to the hunters than ever before. This stage also requires finding a Nether Fortress so the players are forced to reconvene. In the End the forced grouping is more obvious as there is only one End platform so the action is forced upon the players.

This is mainly why I say the 3 act structure lines up with the Overworld, Nether and End dimensions so neatly. Its not just me observing that there are 3 dimensions in Minecraft but that each new dimension forces a new confrontation to happen even after Dreams has successful escaped and the tension is lessened.

However, this observation does only go so far. I think the biggest flaw of the video is that End lasted too long. This makes sense when you lay the 3 act structure over top of it: you rarely want your conclusion to be drawn out. Usually the final confrontation is more elaborate than the previous ones, but not 2 times as long.

Ambiguous Ending

So you’ve dragged your audience to hell and back and they loved every second of it, how do you ensure you piece of media becomes a discussion point after that’s all done? Well one way is to have an Ambiguous Ending. We see this a lot in fiction, but most famously at the end of Inception where we are unsure whether we are still in the dream world or not. This Minecraft Hunters video sparks similar online debate by posing the question “does it count if I killed the dragon posthumously?” Personally, these types of ending are my favorites! I think it takes a lot of balls for a piece of media to ask a question of the audience at the end instead of wrapping everything up neatly but of course not every story should have one.

Conclusion

All pieces of media are telling stories regardless of whether they’re Hollywood blockbusters, indie novels or Minecraft Lets Play videos. Sometimes even in unscripted content, a story can emerge especially if a content creator is looking to tell a good story. And lets not forget the role video editing has in putting together a story. Entire narrative devices such as Chekhov's Gun owe their entire existence to the editor. The decisions of what to linger on and for how long drove the pacing of the story from beginning to end. Finally, if you want to hear more on how editing can create a story from unscripted content, I highly recommend checking out the video below. Remember, stories are everywhere!

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bigskydreaming · 4 years ago

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I was about to say, I can't see Jason letting his guard down as much as intoxication would. I CAN see Jason drinking apple juice and pretending to be drunk. (Funny how I can remember Dick drinking, never more than one or two drinks, and Jason refusing wine, but the fanfic writers get it al wrong.)

Yeah, tbh, I don’t really see any of the Batkids ever being or becoming even casual drinkers. They all value control too much, and have too much experience with mind and mood-altering substances for it to be appealing to them in my personal opinion.

Just my personal headcanon is like, they tend to treat drinking as like, another skill to acquire. They try it to maybe just have enough experience with it that they can fake it undercover and know what they’re doing, or that if they end up in a situation where they have to take at least a quick drink to sell their cover like, they’re not going to be totally blind-sided by the taste or sensation, especially because most of their reputations don’t or aren’t likely to lend themselves to being completely unfamiliar with alcohol. And maybe they occasionally make an point to build up a tolerance in case for some reason they need it, but I honestly can’t really ever buy any of them as casual drinkers.

I mean, I focus a lot on Dick’s times brainwashed or under someone else’s control, and also his rigid insistence on self-determination in his life, and I just can’t honestly see any mindset where he’s like yes, lowering my inhibitions and lessening my ability to be in control of myself is exactly what I’m looking for. Its kinda like how I drastically disagree with takes on him as submissive in any kind of dom/sub fic, lol. Its not about the partner, its about the fact that Dick isn’t the kind of control freak who looks for opportunities to take a break from the stresses of holding such an iron control over his self.....rather, IMO, Dick is that way BECAUSE of how often he’s had virtually NO control of himself or what happens to him, and how much that always....sucks for him.

He tries to maintain self-control and control stuff in his life wherever and whenever he can because he’s not about to lose any of the basically rare opportunities to not HAVE to push back against someone else’s will or expectations for him, where he can just be uncontested in being in charge of his autonomy and own destiny. And I honestly have never seen anything in his character that suggests he’d ever remotely be looking for or welcome to opportunities to basically just....willingly hand over the control of himself that he fights soooo damn hard to obtain and maintain....because when has that EVER ended well for him, you know? So I just....don’t buy sub Dick and never have, and I don’t buy Dick as a casual drinker even, for pretty much the same exact reasons.

Jason I see as a bit more complicated, because of a couple factors. First, there’s the presence of drugs and alcohol in his early life and how much that affected his life as just a bystander, essentially. And its not like every child of an alcoholic parent grows up to be hostile to alcohol, etc. But in Jason’s case I feel that he would be, like he’d almost personify drugs and alcohols as an actual antagonist in his life that have made him suffer, been the actual enemy that prevented him from having a real go at a family with his first parents. And thus he’d just be viciously opposed to them in their entirety, like even as a expansive, nebulous concept of them and everything related to them. Which would also play into things like his insistence that drug dealers in Gotham not sell to kids, etc.

Also, there’s the fact that Jason kinda ended up with....gap years in his development, where the normal linear timeline of developing as a teenager was derailed by his death and then supplanted by a very unorthodox later development that was guided by assassins and influenced by an external-turned-internal force that had a definite influence on his emotions and thought patterns at times. So Jason kinda missed out on a number of years where he could have potentially worked through a lot of his childhood issues with abuse, his parents and drugs and alcohol to a degree further than he did in canon, but just......never got the opportunity to. So it was like....hitting pause on all of that and then unpause when he actually came back to Gotham and rejoined society in his own way, as that put him around these kinds of things again and forced an internal confrontation with how he felt about them now.

And then there’s also the matter of the Pit itself.....much like Dick, but in entirely different ways, Jason has been extremely impacted by things that are not his fault or choosing, that originate OUTSIDE of him and end up controlling or influencing him internally, again through no choice of his own.....and thus, same as Dick, I don’t see how any substance that lessened his control over himself during the times he actually HAS it, would like....remotely appeal to him.

But then again on the other hand, I do think Jason is very self-destructive at times, not more so than Dick, as he can be very self-destructive as well, but just in different ways. Like, Dick IMO is someone who self-destructs quietly and over time. Suffering in silence, not availing himself of any of the opportunities he has to get help from others in various matters because he either doesn’t trust that they’ll prioritize him or he doesn’t feel that he deserves to be, or a combination of both. Jason, IMO, is neither innately more self-destructive or less, its just that....his tendency towards self-destruction manifests pretty explosively, like, in singular burning bright kind of instances that flare up, are just colossally bad decisions that he very quickly regrets, but then die back down and leave him cleaning up the aftermath, but at least having gotten whatever caused that particular turn towards self-destruction like, kinda out of his system.

So his means of self-destruction tend to just be LOUDER, and more.....in your face...but they also come and go more quickly, IMO. And one of those are pretty much the only time or reason I can see for him ever engaging in drinking or voluntarily giving up control.....like, the appeal specifically is a kind of self-punishment, and thus makes for an ideal weapon of choice at least once.....BUT again, the caveat there is like I said, I view Jason as someone who cycles through periods of self-destruction, but then he like...moves past it (or at least on a surface level, like, he FEELS like he has, though the initial problem often stil remains under the surface). But the point is, I think he regrets these instances of self-destruction soon after they happen....and I also think he’s someone who believes very strongly in not making the same mistakes twice.

Like, he knows not to take things for granted better than anyone. Shit doesn’t go according to plan, my personal headcanon for him is his ideal followup is the immediate realization well, that didn’t work, time for something completely different....and then he does something completely different in the hopes of getting closer to his actual desired result. So I could see him doing something like getting black out drunk, etc, as one of these bouts of self-destruction....but the key in my mind, is I could only see him doing that ONCE. Once he’d done it and regretted it, it’d be crystallized in his mind as a Mistake and like, nope, not doing that again. Even when having another tendency towards self-destruction at a later date....I think he’d do it in a different way.

Also, I’ve never bought Jason as a smoker, like, I could see him faking it for The Mood or whatever, lol, but like.......this is a kid who grew up malnourished and thus had to take on criminals as a very under-sized Robin. He comes back after the Pit like, over six feet tall and well-oiled muscle that makes it SO much easier to kick ass as a vigilante? Why the FUCK would he ever screw that up by messing with his lungs or anything else, you know? If anything, I see Jason as being like, as much a ‘my body is my temple’ kind of guy as Dick is, just for different reasons.

I’ve always said I see Dick and Jason having a lot more in common than they’re usually credited with, and all of this is a huge part of why. They both just have HUGE issues with control in regards to themselves and their lives, and just being able to HAVE it and to take advantage of it, do what THEY want to do rather than constantly being moved about by the whims of others and having to always adjust or adapt to whatever everyone else was doing or the box they were being forced in by situations, etc. They’ve BEEN without control, self-autonomy, in ways and to degrees most people couldn’t imagine, so, like....its IMO more likely to be that much more precious and valuable to them than it is even to most people? Like, these are two men who I don’t see ever giving it up without a fight, and thus, they’re just like.....I’m gonna hard pass on the alcohol, etc.

And its got nothing to do with judgment on their part, I don’t think, like, other than the fact that they can’t personally relate to seeing the appeal. Its just the end result of lowered inhibitions/loss of self control or autonomy that they’re like...yeah, that’s what we’re not on board with, thanks but no thanks. Not for us.

I don’t have as strong of headcanons about the other kids just because they’re either too young or it just doesn’t come up as much, such as with Cass (though you can probably guess my headcanon for Cass there given that I talk about the similarities ALL three of the eldest Wayne kids share in a lot of ways, lol) but honestly I think it’d be more of the same with all of them, even if not always for quite the same reasons or quite as strong of reasons. Like, they’ve all been raised with too much reason to value self-control and too little cause to see lowered inhibitions as appealing, so the Batfam as a whole I personally headcanon as being nah, we get our highs from adrenaline and being weird as fuck, thanks though.

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wonderfulworldofmichaelford · 5 years ago

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Psycho Analysis: Kylo Ren

(WARNING! This analysis contains SPOILERS!)

When I said Pryde was the best villain in the sequel trilogy, I wasn’t kidding. All of the other villains have something holding them back from true greatness. And nowhere is that more apparent than the big bad of the trilogy himself, Kylo Ren, AKA Ben Solo.

In The Force Awakens, he was built up as an unhealthily obsessed Darth Vader fanboy, trapped between the Light and Dark sides which were pulling him, and prone to anger and tantrums at the drop of a hat. He was petulant and creepy to be sure, but it was an interesting direction to take a villain… and then slowly, over the course of the sequels, he morphed into different but vaguely similar characterizations that ultimately left him as the epitome of a Darth Vader clone, with his character arc taking the same beats and cramming them into three films.

In short, while not a bad villain by far, Kylo Ren may be the biggest wasted element of the sequel movies, bar none.

Motivation/Goals: So Kylo Ren is a rather simple villain on the surface: he’s motivated by a pursuit of power. But he is also motivated by Rey herself, wanting to corrupt her and have her join him as the head of the First Order. Some people really want you to believe there is some level of romantic attraction here, but honestly, I never saw it. Kylo Ren always seems more like a depraved stalker in his pursuit of Rey, and Rey frequently and violently rejects him. While there is a touch of romance at the very end, it feels really forced and lame. Overall, he has pretty standard motivations in terms of Star Wars villains, with just a touch of interesting flair to keep him interesting for at least two films in a row before the third film cements him as a carbon copy of Vader.

Performance: The one truly great element of Kylo Ren is Adam Driver’s performance. Driver is, simply put, incredible; he does a fantastic job at portraying Kylo Ren as a disturbed, broken man who was twisted into villainy before fully embracing it. The violent tantrums, the brutal combat stylings, his sinister voice as he tries to corrupt Rey… he does an amazing job. And to his credit, when the time comes for his forced redemption, he manages to pull it off as convincingly as he is allowed without once speaking, using only body language and facial expressions. He really manages to sell that Ben Solo is Han Solo’s son in these scenes. Frankly, Driver’s acting is what redeems Ren at all in the end, because a lesser actor would not be able to come out of The Rise of Skywalker relatively unscathed (just ask Domhnall Gleeson).

Final Fate: After a conversation with his dad’s ghost, Kylo Ren redeems himself by tossing aside his lightsaber and going to save Rey from Palpatine. We get extended sequences of Adam Driver pulling off a great Harrison Ford-esque performance that reminds you Ben Solo is supposed to be his kid, and then finally he sacrifices his power to save Rey from “death by grandpa.” Rey then delivers a kiss that’s so bad that poor Ben disintegrates. At least Reylo can’t happen now!

Best Scene: Really, anytime Kylo Ren fights is great or has a tantrum is great. Across his appearances in the trilogy, I do think his back-to-back duel with Rey and then attempt to sway her to the Dark Side as well as his confrontation with Luke, both scenes from The Last Jedi, are really standout. The Last Jedi, despite dropping a lot of the elements that made Kylo Ren interesting in favor of just making him as creepy and sinister as possible, really allowed Driver to show how good he is at playing a villain.

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Best Quote: Again, I must praise The Last Jedi, because the dialogue when he tries to turn Rey is so wonderful and sinister. I always got the feeling like Kylo Ren was trying to gaslight and manipulate Rey at every turn, and this dialogue definitely sold me on it:

Ren: It's time to let old things die. Snoke, Skywalker, the Sith, the Jedi, the Rebels; Let it all die. Rey... I want you to join me. We can rule together and bring a new order to the galaxy!

Rey: Don't do this, Ben. Please, don't go this way.

Ren: No, no, you're still... holding on! Let go! Do you want to know the truth about your parents? Or have you always known? And you've just hidden it away. You know the truth. Say it. Say it.

Rey: They were nobody.

Ren: They were filthy junk traders, who sold you off for drinking money. They're dead in a pauper's grave in the Jakku desert. You have no place in this story; you come from nothing. You're nothing... but not to me. Join me. Please.

Final Thoughts & Score: Kylo Ren is simultaneously the best-acted character in the sequel trilogy and a character who struggles to overcome the obnoxious, scattershot nature of the writing. And yet despite that, Kylo Ren does have the best and most consistent arc, though the end result is just really awkwardly done.

Kylo Ren seriously had the potential to be an interesting and worthy successor to Darth Vader; the way he was set up, it seemed like we were going to get a truly evil and irredeemable Star Wars villain for once. In the first film, we get a hint of his struggles, his internal battle with the pull of the Light and the Dark side, we see his tantrums and his obsession with this glorified idea of Darth Vader, and it all culminates with the moment where he kills his father, which is quite frankly a powerful moment. It really establishes his character well and sets up an intriguing storyline…

…and, to its credit, The Last Jedi does continue the storyline. Kylo Ren cements himself as a cruel and irredeemable, with him usurping the power of the First Order by killing Snoke, attempting to kill his mother, and trying to strike down Luke. Despite the divisive nature of the film and how poorly it treated characters like Poe, Hux, and Finn, The Last Jedi knew how to handle Kylo Ren and continue his character arc in a satisfying and logical manner. But then, of course, along came The Rise of Skywalker, and he gets tossed into a stereotypical redemption arc. This would be fine if the films prior hadn’t built him up as utterly irredeemable as a villain, with him killing his own father, attempting to kill his mother, and so on.

And while, yes, Vader did the same exact things, that’s the issue: Kylo Ren seemed to be being built up as a different beast from Vader due to his idolization of the negative traits of Vader’s legacy and not his ultimate turn and redemption in the eyes of the Force. There was an assumption in the first two films of the sequel that Kylo was going to be something different, especially with all the twists and his numerous villainous actions, but ultimately they redeem him, and while the incitement to the redemption and the acting Adam Driver shows in his silent rescue of Rey is fantastic, it ultimately just makes the character feel like a boring, less-impressive retread of something we’ve seen before, which is an overarching problem with the whole trilogy to be frank, though The Rise of Skywalker is really where it hits worst. Kylo Ren needed to stay a villain, needed to embrace the Dark side, and needed to die instead of giving us the tired redemption arc that we saw executed far better in the first six movies.

Adam Driver seriously is what carries this character, because despite the inane twists and turns the character takes, Driver still manages to deliver a fantastic, powerful performance, but it does leave you sad he didn’t get to go full villain. Driver clearly has the chops for it, but the shortcomings of the script really end up hurting him. Ultimately, Kylo Ren ended up being a stale, tired retread of one of the most important villains ever created despite being set up to be so much more, and it frankly pays me that I can only justify giving him a 6/10. Him even being that high is mostly a testament to how fantastic Driver is in the role, as he’d easily be a 4 or a 5 if he was played by a lesser man, but it’s still rather bittersweet, since Kylo Ren deserved to truly be a great villain, but because of corporate mandates, merchandising demands, and awful writing decisions, he ended up a less interesting Darth Vader clone. And Star Wars is a series with no shortage of clones as it is.

#psycho analysis #Kylo Ren #Ben Solo #Adam Driver #Star Wars

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secretlyatargaryen · 5 years ago

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ASOIAF and A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court

I don’t know if anyone has talked about this, but I know that there’s been some discussion of GRRM being influenced (directly or indirectly) by Mark Twain and, specifically in his novel Fevre Dream, which certainly invokes Huck Finn. I’ve also seen a review of Tyrion’s ADWD journey described as “a drunken Huckleberry Finn.” Which is a flippant description that, on the surface, refers to Tyrion’s literal riverboat journey, but Tyrion’s narrative also carries with it a Twainian edge of satire, and his journey in ADWD is one that deals with classism, slavery, and exile in similar ways as Twain’s famous novel, while Tyrion, like Huck, also occupies a liminal space where he is positioned to understand issues of privilege and marginalization.

But I think a greater comparison could be made between one of Twain’s somewhat lesser known novels and also one of my favorites, A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court.

Most people know this story by its many screen adaptations, as a time-travel comedy, and it is, but it’s also, as is consistent with Twain, a witty, brilliant social satire. In Connecticut Yankee, Twain uses the backdrop of Arthurian England to brutally deconstruct social issues, and tackles classism, slavery, and chivalry in ways similar to GRRM. The first time I read about the Yankee I read it as an adventure story, then I read it in college for a dystopian lit class, and it was the only book on the reading list that isn’t technically dystopian literature, but the society it portrays, like the one in A Song of Ice and Fire, is definitely a feudal dystopia. I’m going to start with some surface level thematic similiarities.

On words:

Here’s Connecticut Yankee:

“Words are only painted fire, a look is the fire itself.”

And ASOIAF (multiple times)

“Words are wind.”

On the human heart:

Connecticut Yankee:

“You can't reason with your heart; it has its own laws, and thumps about things which the intellect scorns.”

GRRM:

“The only thing worth writing about is the human heart in conflict with itself” (quoting William Faulkner)

On rulership:

Here’s where it gets meaty and where I think the two stories have the most in common.

Connecticut Yankee:

The fact is, the king was a good deal more than a king, he was a man; and when a man is a man, you can't knock it out of him.

and

Unlimited power is the ideal thing when it is in safe hands. The despotism of heaven is the one absolutely perfect government, and earthly despotism would be the absolute perfect earthly government if the conditions were the same; namely the despot the perfectest individual of the human race, and his lease of life perpetual; but as a perishable, perfect man must die and leave his despotism in the hands of an imperfect successor, an earthly despotism is not merely a bad form of government, it is the worst form that is possible.

ASOIAF frequently deconstructs the idealization of kings and queens, and the noble class is repeatedly portrayed as fallable and only human, sometimes to tragic ends. There’s an extended plotline in Connecticut Yankee where the Yankee and the King disguise themselves in order to live among the common folk and figure out how to build a better government, at one point ending up enslaved. GRRM also forces several of his noble-born characrters, especially the ones who are positioned to be rulers, to be confronted with the lives of the smallfolk, live among them (sometimes in disguise) or be confronted with the reality of slavery or even live as slaves themselves.

Connecticut Yankee again:

There was a slight noise from the direction of the dim corner where the ladder was. It was the king descending. I could see that he was bearing something in one arm, and assisting himself with the other. He came forward into the light; upon his breast lay a slender girl of fifteen. She was but half conscious; she was dying of smallpox. Here was heroism at its last and loftiest possibility, its utmost summit; this was challenging death in the open field unarmed, with all the odds against the challenger, no reward set upon the contest, and no admiring world in silks and cloth of gold to gaze and applaud; and yet the king’s bearing was as serenely brave as it had always been in those cheaper contests where knight meets knight in equal fight and clothed in protecting steel. He was great now; sublimely great. The rude statues of his ancestors in his palace should have an addition—I would see to that; and it would not be a mailed king killing a giant or a dragon, like the rest, it would be a king in commoner’s garb bearing death in his arms that a peasant mother might look her last upon her child and be comforted.

And that, my friends, is how you deconstruct feudalism, chivalry, classism, divine right of rulership and what makes a hero a hero.

Here’s Dany in ASOIAF:

“Go if you wish, ser. I will not detain you. I will not detain any of you.” Dany vaulted down from the horse. “I cannot heal them, but I can show them that their Mother cares.”

Jhogo sucked in his breath. “Khaleesi, no.”

The bell in his braid rang softly as he dismounted. “You must not get any closer. Do not let them touch you! Do not!”

Dany walked right past him. There was an old man on the ground a few feet away, moaning and staring up at the grey belly of the clouds. She knelt beside him, wrinkling her nose at the smell, and pushed back his dirty grey hair to feel his brow. “His flesh is on fire. I need water to bathe him. Seawater will serve. Marselen, will you fetch some for me? I need oil as well, for the pyre. Who will help me burn the dead?”

Contrast Dany and the King in disguise, doing something as simple as showing compassion to the sick and dying, behaving more like a hero than any knight on a battlefield, with the riot in King’s Landing where a mother presents her dead child as an indictment of the failings of the ruling class.

Halfway along the route, a wailing woman forced her way between two watchmen and ran out into the street in front of the king and his companions, holding the corpse of her dead baby above her head. It was blue and swollen, grotesque, but the real horror was the mother's eyes. Joffrey looked for a moment as if he meant to ride her down, but Sansa Stark leaned over and said something to him. The king fumbled in his purse, and flung the woman a silver stag. The coin bounced off the child and rolled away, under the legs of the gold cloaks and into the crowd, where a dozen men began to fight for it. The mother never once blinked. Her skinny arms were trembling from the dead weight of her son.

Sansa tries to influence Joffrey here, but of course she can’t make Joffrey show real compassion or truly understand the plight of the smallfolk. And even though Sansa is sympathetic to their plight, those who get abused by those in power don’t see her as any different than the sadistic ones, like Joffrey.

On heredity and inheriting the sins of the past:

Connecticut Yankee:

We speak of nature; it is folly; there is no such thing as nature; what we call by that misleading name is merely heredity and training. We have no thoughts of our own, no opinions of our own; they are transmitted to us, trained into us.

ASOIAF:

It all goes back and back, Tyrion thought, to our mothers and fathers and theirs before them. We are puppets dancing on the strings of those who came before us, and one day our own children will take up our strings and dance on in our steads.

On knighthood:

A Connecticut Yankee:

“You see, he was going for the Holy Grail. The boys all took a flier at the Holy Grail now and then. It was a several years' cruise. They always put in the long absence snooping around, in the most conscientious way, though none of them had any idea where the Holy Grail really was, and I don't think any of them actually expected to find it, or would have known what to do with it if he had run across it.”

In Twain’s novel, the knights are mostly ridiculous, violent idiots obsessed with honor and pointless questing.

In ASOIAF:

"He likes the stories where the knights fight monsters."

“Sometimes the knights are the monsters.”

In Connecticut Yankee, there is an incredible subplot where the Yankee is convinced by a princess to go on a quest to slay a bunch of ogres who have supposedly captured princesses and held them in a castle. When they get there, it turns out that the “castle” is a pigsty, the “princesses” the pigs, and the “ogres” some poor swineherds.

I left Sandy kneeling there, corpse-faced but plucky and hopeful, and rode down to the pigsty, and struck up a trade with the swine-herds. I won their gratitude by buying out all the hogs at the lump sum of sixteen pennies, which was rather above latest quotations. I was just in time; for the Church, the lord of the manor, and the rest of the tax-gatherers would have been along next day and swept off pretty much all the stock, leaving the swine-herds very short of hogs and Sandy out of princesses. But now the tax people could be paid in cash, and there would be a stake left besides. One of the men had ten children; and he said that last year when a priest came and of his ten pigs took the fattest one for tithes, the wife burst out upon him, and offered him a child and said:

“Thou beast without bowels of mercy, why leave me my child, yet rob me of the wherewithal to feed it?”

This is satire at its most ridiculous and over-the-top, but it’s also a pretty searing deconstruction of the futility of chivalry, more obsessed with romantic notions of honor and fighting against imagined monsters than its supposed goal of protecting the weak.

A Connecticut Yankee ends in a failed attempt at revolution but with the possibility of hope for the modern world. Perhaps this is what GRRM is trying to tell us as well.

#a song of ice and fire #a connecticut yankee in king arthur's court #valyrianscrolls #asoiaf meta

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elmidol · 4 years ago

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A New Tapestry

Three Blind Tooke Part Three Death is an Art

Read on AO3

Warnings: None(?)

Three Blind Tooke

Part Three: Death is an Art

Chapter Forty-Five: A New Tapestry

Yet even a mere shell is not my end,

As it fills with new things while on the mend;

And so my life carried on beyond you,

While I became someone I loved, someone new.

Ripples broke over the surface of the water as the liquid pool was disrupted by the insertion of dust particles. It had been nearly half a day since the Resistance had moved, along with you, to this new, temporary base. Five days since you had been face to face with Kylo Ren, since Urvno had drawn blood from you. Your subconscious had posed the question regarding the Dark side user creating a clone of you for his own entertainment. That bad dream, not quite a nightmare, had disturbed your sleep to the point that you had taken medication to eliminate any possibility of remembering what else your unconscious mind could conjure. On a conscious level, you doubted that Kylo Ren would do such a thing. That clone would share genetic makeup, however it would not be you. It would not have all of your experiences. It wouldn’t be the same, and the man did not seem the sort to want some cheap imitation. Somehow that was comforting.

The news of Kylo Ren’s survival had spread throughout the Resistance much as the ripples now moved. You pinched the sides of the small bag closed, blocking any more dust from escaping. These were not the ashes of your enemy as Ren had collected. They were nevertheless remnants from an ally. In this case, it had been a droid that was destroyed. It had been easy to briefly entertain the idea of starting a collection of your own. The fact that your former captor and host had survived, that had proven to alleviate much of the guilt that you had thrust upon yourself. You felt more in control of your life, your destiny.

Too many choices had been stolen from you. When in that moment you had decided to let Kylo Ren live, be it only on that mission or for longer, it had been a punch in the gut, a blow to your fragile mental and emotional health, to have that stolen away by Captain Phasma.

The dark depths of the cavern, brightened by the humming, electronic torch you had placed into a makeshift holder, was enveloped in more light. The footsteps that had been periodically echoing around you at last drew to an end as the individual from which they had come arrived at your side. General Organa had put you under Dameron’s charge after you had returned. You were once more benched, although you could not say that you blamed your superiors. Circumstances had given you a sense of whiplash that you were recovering from. Plus, you rather liked the man and how he watched your back. He had been on a mission with Finn, during which the younger had reportedly utilized what bits of training in the Force that Master Skywalker had provided.

You could not imagine what it was like to be Force sensitive. Or, you could. You could, and sometimes you did, and you agonized over the idea of feeling death so completely. The void that must arise, such as the one you had felt when you had lost your father and thought you had lost your mother, on a deeper level.

This was all but another reason you found comfort in Poe’s presence. His senses were as deadened as your when it came to the Force.

“It isn’t your fault that the...Order of Ren,” he said, snorting out the name and shaking his head, “has possession of your ship.” It would be easy to deny what he had said, to pin the blame on yourself as you had been doing mentally ever since you had awoken in the cockpit of Rey’s X-wing. You crossed your arms over your chest then raised your eyes from the puddle of water to the shadows playing on the walls of the cavern. “We know everything that was on that ship. We’re still a step ahead of them.”

He was not wrong in that either. You huffed out the last bit of annoyance that you had been entertaining. A new wave rolled over you when Dameron revealed his reason for coming to you; Master Skywalker wanted to speak with you. This remained a difficult avenue. You admired the man for the part he had played in defeating the Emperor, in taking down the Empire. It still remained that he was a relative of Kylo Ren. He was your uncle in a way as well, with the fact that you had married his nephew. You feared what he would say in regards to the Force, in regards to the fact that it was now common knowledge you had not had a hand in killing Kylo. It was not as though he could train you in the ways of the Force. You imagined that the desired meeting would be more personal in nature.

You pinched the rings that were on the chain you wore around your neck, gave Poe one last final glance, and picked up the torch on the way out of the cavern. Your footfalls echoed off the stone walls.

They died in a matter of minutes. Instead of forcing you to leave the cavern completely, Luke Skywalker had met you halfway. He wore darker pants along with a top that was what you sometimes referred to as Resistance-red. The shirt was new. Your eyes travelled along its length as you slowed your pace then came to a stop. The hand fell away from the rings. Your gaze rose to his face, to the neatly trimmed beard. The facial hair failed to conceal the soft smile of greeting. The expression was guarded, not overly-friendly. As though he could feel that you had thrown up your guard.

“Care to take a walk?”

You almost flinched at the fact that he was offering you an out. It was so human, so different than how many others approached you. Either with too much caution, or far too boldly. This man, hero of the Rebellion, was not acting as though he was above you, that you should feel humbled that he was speaking to you at all. Before you had been captured, you would have felt it such an honor to be in his presence. Now?

“Okay.”

He was just another person, another one of the leaders of the Resistance cause.

Luke waited until you were level with him before starting to walk as well. The two of you were side by side, neither speaking a word. The apprehension that you had been experiencing did not fully fade, however it eased. It then dissipated more when he began to speak.

“It is easy to be overwhelmed by darkness. Just one moment, and fearing it can change everything.” He was speaking of how he had nearly killed his nephew that fateful night. “What I saw in him…”

As he trailed off, you found yourself picking up the conversation. “It was more than that, wasn’t it? That made you go to Ahch-To.”

A light chuckle escaped him, one that was tinged with humor along with a hint of self-deprecation. It was not his proudest moment; going to that planet, to that island to die. Here was the man who had faced his father numerous times, had been tempted to join the Dark. He had not given up hope. Yet when confronted with a similar situation with his nephew, with a Ben Solo who had not yet fully succumbed to the Darkㅡnot that you were aware of, at leastㅡhe had fled. You knew that it was not exactly that simple. His other students had been slaughtered. That much death.

“You clung to hope,” he said, and you heard the praise for what it was. Your jaw trembled, bottom lip threatening to quiver. The two of you were nearing the mouth of the cavern. Light had started to creep along the stone. “You and I, we both lost those we care for to him. We both had moments where we nearly killed him. Have you blamed yourself, thought that you pushed him further into Darkness?”

Your next inhalation was sharp, sudden. You swayed in place, nearly dropping to your knees. Luke caught you, his hand firm on your upper arm. It had failed to hit you in the past just how similar your experiences were in that respect. A different intimate relationship with the man who now commanded the Order of Ren. You had blamed yourself. Had questioned your actions. Had told yourself that you were fighting the darkness, the evil; even after you had conceded that there was Light in Kylo Ren, you had nevertheless fought against him. How much harder had it been for Luke, who had watched Ben Solo as a boy? Who had had that moment of weakness beforeㅡbut was it before? The dark thoughts that Ben had been entertaining. The desire. Would he have succumbed even if Luke hadn’t acted as he had?

“There are many what-ifs.” He made a vague wave with his mechanical hand. “What if Snoke had built an army of Force sensitives instead of keeping their powers unknown to them, or at bay? What if the New Republic had listened to Leia? What if I had never left Tatooine? I gave into those what-ifs after I saw the ruins, the bodies of my students. I went away to die… I regretted that I had tried to kill him, but also regretted that I had not killed him.”

“Snoke would have found someone else,” you offered. Yet another what-if. You snorted at your words, and Master Skywalker patted your shoulder. “I know I need to move forward. I just feel that I keep making things worse. The ship… Dameron says we’re ahead of that, but it is still a blow.”

“If you hadn’t been there, all of our pilots would have been killed. Possibly Dameron himself if he had been running the exercise. There was no winning in that situation. Kylo planned the attack wellㅡor Hux would have destroyed the ships, taken captives. Any number of things can go wrong. We must learn from our failures. My old Master and Rey, they taught me that.”

Captain Phasma and Hux managing to get the upper hand on Kylo Ren had had little to do with you, when you thought about it. There were more scenarios that would have resulted in the same thing, in worse things. Upon Kylo’s death, you had fallen in the same way that Luke had. Though you had not sought death, you had all the same secluded yourself. What if Kylo Ren hadn’t revealed that he had come back to life? Would you have travelled down that same path of self-destruction that Luke himself had started on following his mistake that fateful night? The man’s concern was on multiple levels.

“Did Rey ask you to talk with me?” You and her had been working to mend the friendship that had fractured. It was an awkward dance from time to time.

Luke stated that she had not been the cause of his visit. Poe had suspected that you would not be entirely receptive to his comforting words, which had prompted the pilot to reach out. You felt a warmth flood you at that. No matter how many walls you put up, those who cared for you refused to let you barricade yourself entirely. The Resistance was like on large family; that train of thought had you reminding yourself that you needed to sit with your mother, as you had promised to do before the day ended. Peace was not a guarantee.

You thumbed the electronic torch, powering down its beam. Daylight forced you to shield your eyes until you better adjusted. The man who had walked with you offered but a brief farewell then left. He had business to take care of, either training or a mission. You stared after him. Thought of Finn, who would likely be catching up with Rey and Rose. Dameron would join you in under an hour, or at least that is the impression that you had been given. It would be foolish for anyone to rest for prolonged periods. Kylo Ren was building an army of Force sensitives. Supreme Leader Hux was hunting down the Resistance and those who could wield the Force.

Temporary shelter from the sun was given by way of a tarp stretched across several poles. There were three of these available, each of them with two benches underneath. For the past few days, that had been where individuals ate between work. It was simple to spot your mother in the centermost section. She nursed a cup of caf. Had it been evening, that would have been tea instead.

She placed the cup on the tabletop then reached for you with both of her hands. You walked into her embrace. Returned it, albeit briefly, and sat down beside her. She had been much quieter ever since learning that Kylo Ren was alive. Her political ties had done limited good for the Resistance thus far, however she had recently made some headway with one contact. Kylo was a distraction. More specifically, how you were reacting to the news was a distraction for your mother. She did not know how to feel in regards to the relief that you had experienced.

“You’re drinking it black,” you said softly, wrinkling your nose. She drummed her nails on the side of the cup, tilted her head. “General Organa told me of your progress.”

“Mm.” Your mother pulled the cup nearer to her again. “This is not how I imagined working with you.” No bitterness, only a bit of sorrow over the circumstances, which you could understand completely. “There are younger children with the Force. My contact would be able to help shelter them from this warㅡfrom both Hux and Ren.” She was watching you, gauging your reactions. You slid your hand atop hers, verbally assuring her that you were not rooting for Kylo Ren. You wanted those children away from the war. Hux would see them dead. Kylo would… You wanted to say that he would not pull them into battle, however you did not know if he wouldn’t start training them, indoctrinating them. “They’re going to need pilots.”

Your heart hammered in your chest. This was something that, if General Organa and your other superiors approved, you would be able to do. Something that would improve the galaxy, would save lives, would protect what was dear to you. You had no intention of removing yourself completely from battle. Until you recovered, however, this would do.

What might prevent you from being cleared was the possibility that these runs would make you a desirable target for Hux or Ren. The First Order would want you dead along with those children. The Order of Ren, on the other hand… Maker, you wished you could read minds, even if only temporarily. If your last run-in set precedence, the possibility remained that you would not be killed. The children would be safer. Or perhaps that was you beginning down the road of an ego trip.

Movement in the corner of your eye caught your attention. You twisted your torso to watch Dameron do a mini-jog out of the cavern. He headed straight for you. BB-8 rolled forward to meet him, chirping audibly and receiving a pat on the top of his dome. The droid and pilot remained near one another the entire time as Poe deposited himself in the seat across from you and BB-8 lingered on the ground behind him. Your mother greeted Dameron, the pair falling into standard pleasantries. You waited for one to deliver the line the weather’s nice today, however neither ever did. It was no secret that your mother had been in opposition to the formation of the Resistance initially. Obviously her opinion had changed given circumstances, yet there were those in the Resistance that had not held their tongues when giving a roundabout I told you so. General Organa attributed these attitudes to age, and oftentimes this was true. There was none of that from Poe. That did not mean neither held reservations when it came to speaking with the other.

They were dancing around the topic of your being assigned to assist on the upcoming mission. This was amusing to you given that your mother had just talked about it with you. Which meant that you were quick to grow impatient.

“Am I on the assignment?” you asked. There was an edge in your tone that made you wince and wonder if you should apologize. Displaying weakness was not something you feared in the presence of these two; not that owning up to a mistake was a sign of being weak. Your mother tugged her cup of caf upwards, sipping it while locking eyes with Dameron. The decision had yet to be made, though there were clearly discussions regarding your inclusion. One major determining factor lay in the fact that on your previous mission, you had lost all of your comrades as well as your ship. Assigning you to a new starship when the Resistance was in such short supply… Unless, you thought, the Resistance would not be supplying the transport. That could very well be part of the negotiations with your mother’s contact. “Is it when I was under the influence of the Force?” How many people had witnessed your belligerent behavior when you had been under that spell? They might not want you if they recognized you.

Dameron straightened out his spine before tilting his head at a small angle. His body was facing your mother, however his eyes were locked on yours. Poe had been benched at one point due to his behavior. He had to obey the chain of command or else face a demotion. This meant that even if he personally believed you were fit for the mission, his wisest choice would be to hold his tongue. You thought you saw conflict in his expression. He did not know what to say to you.

Feeling rather deflated, you nodded to display that you would not pressure either of them. They were on your side in this, would do what they could to help you so that you could assist the Resistance, the galaxy as a whole. There was a different reason that Poe had come to the table with you and your mother. A likely deduction was that he wished to do an attitude check following your discussion with Luke Skywalker.

A new flight simulator had been provided by one of the allies of the Resistance; Poe and Finn had returned from their mission roughly the same time as another Resistance member, who had flashed the newly obtained item to Dameron. Modifications on older ships coupled with purchases of different models meant that pilots would best serve themselves by studying via the sim. You thought back to the stream of positive warmth that had enveloped you earlier, around the time of Poe’s return. Initially you had believed that Rey had been elated to see her friendㅡnot that this was no longer plausibleㅡhowever knew that the simulator would also provide such a reaction from the female Force user.

She had learned how to pilot crafts by using a simulator while on Jakku. You found your mind wandering to the stories she had told of her lonely childhood. Still, here she was. Struggling with the fact that she was being regarded as a hero, that she was as important a symbol of hope as Luke Skywalker and Leia Organa. This was not what she had believed her life would be like. She worried that she would fail, that she was not worthy.

The Knight of Ren that had defected, that had joined her side, seated himself on the far end of the table. His presence was jarring. You had not noticed him coming, you had been too wrapped up in your thoughts. You looked at him, more specifically at the armor that he wore. He was again donning the helmet and armor that he had worn while under Kylo Ren’s command. Your mother excused herself, grabbed up her cup of caf, and offered only a quick I’ll see you later to you before taking her leave. The Knight did not flinch, did not react at all as far as you could see. Poe reacted differently to the other man’s arrival. He mentioned the flight sim again, prompting the Knight to turn his helmeted head to look at the pilot.

A new discussion arose, this time Dameron and the Knight being the participants while you remained nothing more than an audience member along with the droid. It was the Knight that had provided the intel necessary for the other Resistance member to gain access to the simulation. The First Order, and thus the Knights of Ren as well, had dealt with some suppliers known by the Resistance. Some of the developers of weapons and defense systems had made rough copies. Those programs were sold on the Black Market to competitors. It had also birthed copies of flight sims, which were compiled onto a single datachip. Some of the newer TIEs and other First Order fighter vessels were featured among transports.

You felt as though you were beginning to float out of your body. Lightheaded. Taken aback by the fact that this former follower of Kylo Ren had provided much needed intel for the Resistance. The First Order fleet was large in comparison to the Resistance, however learning how to pilot some of its ships would mean that infiltration would be a better option. Stealing ships right from under their noses. Knowing how to work them. TIEs were temperamental, which Poe Dameron knew from personal experience.

Dameron gestured to the Knight with his head then to you. “If it’s cleared, the two of you will be working more closely.” You narrowed your eyes without looking towards the Knight. It was not disappointment or anger that you felt. Concern, though. Trust was not an easy thing to hand out, even if this man had already proven himself. The words he had spoken to you after Kylo’s death, though, still stung. There had been no positive interactions. “Work it out, kids.”

You nearly rolled your eyes at that. He had not used the term in a condescending way so much as acknowledging the clear tension. BB-8 released a noise that sounded rather catty. It drew a laugh from your superior, who then gave a wave while rising and walking away.

Silence wrapped around you, prompting you to strain to listen to everything else occuring on the temporary base. The flight sim would not be available for you to use immediately. Otherwise you might have suggested that both of you work on that together. If the program allowed it, that is. You puffed up your cheeks. Heard another ship breaking atmosphere. A friendly. You could tell by the sound of the engine. Boy would that be changing once the Resistance fleet expanded. Plus you would potentially be working with non-Resistance personnel. Kids too.

“Pain?”

The inquiry revealed to you that you had winced. It remained a touchy thing, the subject of children. The truth was that you did not know how to feel about that quite yet.

You waved a hand in the air. “Not exactly.” A pause. You sucked your lips into your mouth and pressed your teeth on them, albeit not in a biting fashion. There was an intimacy in sharing your feelings that you did not know whether or not you were ready for. That, too, would require a level of trust to exist between you and the Knight. There were countless arguments for either side. Poe’s words echoed in your head. Taking a deep breath, you wrapped your arms around your waist and leaned forward, hunching your shoulders. The Knight shifted back a little. He had not removed his gaze from you, and your inability to see his face made it difficult for you to read his motivations. “Thoughts of war.” This was not a lie, although the vague nature of the statement drew a snort from the man.

Once more did a hush fall over the table. You swallowed down the saliva that had begun to gather in your mouth. The situation that you were in with this man reminded you of the awkwardness that had existed with Kylo Ren. There was, of course, no threat of being tortured here. No fear of being raped, subjected to interrogationㅡwell, perhaps that was not quite true. Personal inquiries were always a possibility when it came to trust exercises, which you suspected the pair of you would be dealing with. The damned mask was what did it. Those first visits from Kylo Ren when he had worn the helmet, when you had been able to view him as a creature.

This time your bottom lip did quiver. The tips of your fingers dug into your sides, and you squeezed your eyes closed. Pictured Naboo, the greenery, the florals.

“We kill a part of ourselves every day.”

Your eyes snapped open, attention darting back to the Knight. You were trembling at the truth behind those words. At the familiarity in them, how they reminded you of the things that your father had said in regards to monsters and monster slayers.

“They find it difficult to trust me. We know the reasons are valid.” We, because it was the same reason those in the Resistance struggled to trust you. You and the Knight were compromised. That happened when one spent too much time with the opposition. “I hadn’t wanted him to die.”

“I hadn’t either...not at that point.” His chin dipped in a nod, and you again thought of the helmeted Kylo from your days of early captivity. This time the resemblance hurt less. This Knight was treading on the gray area of war, and you were willing to join him. To look beyond death towards the future. “So we would be the two pilots. One of us the co-pilot.” Another snort, this one containing unhidden amusement. Your lips tugged to one side into a smirk. “I will wait until we have results from the flight simulator. I am a capable pilot, but I won’t put my pride above the lives of those we would be transporting.”

The Knight of Ren tapped the side of his helmet with two fingers. “If you combine the two names… Supernova and tooke… Super tooke.”

“Oh, please don’t,” you said, grimacing.

“Pride.”

“Self-respect.” He hummed, conceding defeat on that point. The first layer of trust received a new thread.

#kylo ren x reader #kylo x reader #kylo ren smut #kylo ren imagine #three blind tooke #elmidolfanfic #death is an art

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nomnomzombies · 6 years ago

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Gold and Silver--Two Sides of the Same Coin

TW: discussion of mental illness, rape, and suicidal ideations

First and foremost, thank you so much to your overwhelming support of my 8x04 analysis, even though it wasn’t totally finished. As I was working on an outline to finish it up, something.... grew out of it.

The themes I discussed in my previous essay addressed Identity and Accountability—but I’ve long believed that identity is a core principle of the themes explored throughout all of ASoIaF. That assertion may feel a little superficial in a world that’s dictated by ruling houses and are characterized by their sigils; a name is as powerful as a sword in Westeros. But the story we’ve all tuned in for is the characters. We’ve watched them on this transformative journey to understand where they were, where they are, and where they’re going. While we may or may not like what we understood of their journeys so far and what’s happening now, I think it’s important to sometimes take a step back and reevaluate everything we think we know. Because, let’s face it, the ending that we’re barreling towards is 100% Made in by Martin. While I’ve remained adamant that Dark/MQ Dan has been in the making for a long time—I'm passionate about understanding the other perspective. A common complaint that I’ve heard about MQD is that we already have a “Mad Queen” Cersei. Isn’t this redundant? Why are we pitting women against each other? Making Dan Mad Queen devalues Cersei’s arc/Mad Queen Dan is an injustice to Dan’s arc. But the question begins to take root—was there somewhere else we could have been looking for this ending? Were there other parallels we could have made that would have enlightened us to this transformation of Dan’s character? The last few weeks, I’ve been making offhanded comments about how if we were watching the show about Robert’s Rebellion and his early reign, would we be rooting for Cersei as our defensible, ruthless feminist icon? Has it really been there the whole time?

I’m primarily going to be citing the show with reinforcement from the text since I have incredibly poor organizational skills and I don’t know an effective way to look up specific quotes without leafing through a 500+ pg tome for twenty minutes at a crack.

Shall we begin?

The Proud Lion and the Beggar King

Cersei and Jaime’s relationship is a cornerstone of the series. We understand that the romance is forbidden, but we’re also coerced into justifying its legitimacy on the precedent that the Targaryens set throughout their entire reign. The characters themselves have had conversations where they verbalize these facts to not only one another but also in their defense to the other characters. Similarly, when we begin the narrative, Daenerys is accompanied by Viserys in Pentos and we’re confronted with this abusive and incestuous dynamic. Vis is very quick to bring up that they lived their lives with the understanding that they’d most likely be married to one another. Immediately, this parallel has become perpendicular. While Jaime and Cersei’s relationship is equally as abusive and manipulative under the surface, for different reasons we’re unsettled by Viserys’ outward physical, mental, emotional, and sexual abuse of his sister (seriously, what a piece of trash). While Jaime and Cersei have willingly engaged with one another, the dynamic is monumentally less consensual between the silver siblings. Continuing with this inverted parallel, we follow the four siblings throughout the first half of season/book one and see the power dynamic at play. Cersei is Robert’s queen, and we know that Jaime took the position with the King’s Guard to be closer to Cersei because otherwise Tywin would have forced Jaime to wed just as he brokered Cersei’s engagement (and subsequent coronation). Conversely, we see Viserys brokering the marriage between Daenerys and Khal (King) Drogo (and Dan’s subsequent ‘coronation’) for similar political means. Viserys refuses to leave Daenerys’ side, not out of love, but out of insecurity and the need for Drogo to make good on his end of the agreement. Daenerys, throughout the entire wedding is lamenting, “I want to go home,” which us book readers know that she’s referring to the house in Braavos. Every time she expresses this, Viserys quickly snaps that “Home is Westeros.” “There is no home until I take back my crown.” “That which was stolen from us—the Iron Throne.” The first half of book/season 1, Dan doesn’t give two shits about the Iron Throne. She wants family, love, connection. And she eventually finds this with the Dothraki. Love and community is not something that Cersei found in her marriage with Robert, but rather power. She became The Queen, as Dan became The Khaleesi. It’s important to note that the episodes in which the Twins and the Targs are separated from their counterparts are subsequent. The separation of the siblings are nearly simultaneous events. “The Wolf and the Lion” is the episode in which Jaime attacks Ned Stark in the streets of King’s Landing, then leaves the city to join Tywin’s host. The twins are separated for the next 3 seasons. The next episode, “A Golden Crown,” is the episode in which Daenerys has Viserys killed. Though their separation is permanent, we’re constantly assaulted with parallels between Dan and Vis from season 7 onward. Viserys is not with her in mind nor body, but rather in essence. As much as we understand Cersei to be the new Aerys II Targaryen, we’re being shown now that Dan is the new Viserys.

A Bride for an Army; A Marriage for a Crown.

Although Dan’s wedding night is very different from the show to the books, Cersei’s is incredibly consistent. From Dan’s point of view in the show, we see her raped by Khal Drogo for the first time—in the books, however, we’re met with a less brutal version of events. Although she was incredibly anxious throughout the course of the wedding, Daenerys II closes off with a back and forth of “No.” (Dan) “No?” (Drogo) “Yes.” (Dan). It’s interesting to note that Dan knew nothing about Drogo before their “greeting” ceremony in Daenerys I, whereas Cersei describes “worshipping” Robert in the lead up to their wedding. Interestingly enough, Cersei’s exact quote describes Robert as “lean and black-bearded,” though this is probably little more than a coincidence.... it’s not like the two blonde queens share any other physical traits in common..... It’s not like we’re talking about The Golden Lioness and The Silver Queen, or anything...

Anywho.... So we go from this idyllic state and crash back down to earth. In the time following their weddings, both women experience periods of severe depression and suicidal ideations. As Dan is acclimating to her time in the Dothraki sea, she describes her legs and hands as blistered and raw, and Drogo proceeds to engage in intercourse in the face of her obvious agony. She does not refuse, and neither does Cersei, though her tactics are a bit more refined as she describes using “other ways to finish [Robert] off.” We also see Dan reaching out to Doreah, a bedslave, in order to make her consorts with Drogo more enjoyable. Both women found solutions to the same problem, to make the nightmare more livable. But in the period following the marriage, both found themselves in situations where they’d rather it end than face another day (Dan) or throw themselves off of the red keep (Cersei). What kept them both going? For Dan, it was the beginning of the dragon dreams. For Cersei, it was her children.... (It’s almost like dragons and children have a parallel for these two women?)

Regardless, they both have an “in” to political power through this marriage. They are both the queens to the strongest king in the land.

Fast forward to the end of season one, and another two significant events take place for these women. S1e7, “You Win or You Die” marks the episode when Robert returns from his boar hunt, on his deathbed. We understand, later, that Cersei was the catalyst of the events that lead to his injury. S1e8, “The Pointy End” is the episode when Dan implores Mirri Maz Durr to treat Drogo’s bicep injury. It’s noteworthy that the two womens’ motivations were entirely opposite; nevertheless, the actions taken and the sequence of events that followed are directly paralleled, particularly when you analyze the outcomes of both scenarios.

With Robert dead, and Drogo a husk, both of them ascend to a level of pseudo-power through their children. The last two episodes of season 1 mark the execution of Ned Stark and Joffrey’s rise to King, and Dan’s mercy-killing of Drogo and the blood sacrifice to birth the dragons. Both women spent the entirety of season 1 coming into a sense of agency and working to hone real power with lasting effects. The end of the season marks both of them moving into this new chapter of an elevated status (“Queen Mother” and “Mother of Dragons”). They’re far from achieving true power, but their game has now changed.

The Mother

As far as I’m aware, only the show mentioned that Cersei and Robert had a trueborn son together. In the scene where Cersei visits Catelyn over Bran’s sickbed in 1x02, she talks about losing the Baratheon heir to a fever. This parallels the death of Rhaegal in that both of them would be the only “legitimate” children that they would have. The other three children would either be illegitimate in lineage or..... species.

That’s really not where the parallels end between the six children, however, because as I talked about in my last essay (Identity and Accountability), the dragon and the throne have become direct symbols of the queens’ identity and power. We see this more fully-realized in later seasons, once Daenerys is able to ride Drogon into battle, and Cersei actually sits the throne, but the theory in its infancy still holds water because the children and the dragons are routes to power rather than power directly. People are still able to scoff at Cersei for being “Mother to the King” as they’re able to scoff at Dan’s dragons for being fledglings. The children and the dragons, themselves, hold power although they are not in positions to leverage it (even Joffrey, who fought so hard to be his own person and make his own decisions, was little more than a pawn, a vessel for Tywin, in the end).

Cersei receives a prophecy pertaining to her three children. By Maggy the Frog, “...you will have three. Gold their crowns, and gold their shrouds.” While the obvious answer is that they’ll have golden crowns because they’re monarchs (and in the books, the Dorne plot to make Myrcella queen) but at the same time, we need to recognize that their hair is also the staple Lannister Gold--“golden crown.” While we understand that the Baratheon heirs are 100% Lannister (much like Drogon is still 100% a dragon), they’re cloaked in the guise of the Baratheon name. Moreover, Joffrey understands Robert to be his true father, and commits atrocities throughout his lifetime hoping that he can win Robert’s approval. We see the Lannister identity, but particularly Cersei’s symbolic identity, cloaked under “Baratheon,” and as I’ve established, the children are Cersei’s link to her power--the throne.

Prior to hatching her dragons, Dan receives the Mirri Maz Durr prophecy that reveals she is now barren. Like Magy’s prophecy limited the number of children Cersei would bear, now Mirri’s would limit Dan’s. In spite of that, though, she uses blood magic--”only death can pay for life”--to attempt to hatch the dragons (It’s not explicitly stated in the books or show that she actually used blood magic, but it’s the best theory that explains why Dan was fireproof through the pyre scene, so I roll with it). Once the dragons hatch, they are Gold (Viserion, for Viserys), Green (Rhaegal, for Rhaegar), and Black/red (Drogon, for Drogo). Instantly, Dan is more connected to Drogon than the other two. Not only do they connect more quickly and more deeply than she does to the other two, but Drogon is described as growing more quickly and into a far stronger dragon. Before she knew any of this, though, she named him after her deceased first husband. What was meant to be a touching tribute, became the biggest clue to Dan’s source of power and identity, as Drogon is not only named after Khal Drogo, but he presents with the Targaryen house colours—red and black. So her most deeply rooted sense of identity is immediately linked to her fastest growing avenue to power, notoriety, and ambition.

Fast Forward to The Sons of the High Sparrow

I had an epiphany when I was analyzing the two characters’ arc, and I looked into the two major arcs that culminating in the two queens clashing in Westeros. In season 5, Dan is coping with the repercussions of the sacking of Slaver’s Bay and the Crucifixion of the Masters. Cersei is trying to manage the aftermath of Joffrey’s death, Tyrion’s trial, and Tywin’s murder. As I established in the last passage, the two of them are still using avenues to power, as their authority is under major scrutiny. With Tywin gone, Cersei has completely infiltrated the Small Council and is ruling in everything but title. Tommen is still king, and is married to Margaery this season. Dan is separated from Drogon. While she’s in Mereen, he’s awol eating children and burning shit (the usual). And, once again, because if indirect (yet painfully direct) action, the repercussions of their actions come to haunt them in the form of cultist insurgencies. Cersei takes the opportunity to elevate the High Sparrow in the wake of an embarrassing incident with the High Septon at a brothel. Dan’s impulsivity and reckless brutality in conquering Slaver’s Bay allowed the wounds of her arrogance to fester into the Sons of the Harpy (seriously—if she would have put the former masters to trial instead of crucifying them, she would have rooted out the SotH pretty damn quickly. But noooooooo Miss Injustice-with-”Justice”).

I’m going to take a second to note that A Feast for Crows (Cersei) and A Dance with Dragons (Daenerys) are parallel books. The narratives of the two are meant to be simultaneously occurring. So, even though seasons 4 and 5 turned out to be a jumble in terms of timeline and sequencing, these two storylines still ran side-by-side.

So s5e9, “The Dance of Dragons” culminates in Dan being forced out of Mereen by the SotH, rescued by Drogon, and is apprehended by the Dothraki. S5e10, “Mother’s Mercy,” shows Cersei’s High Sparrow arc climaxing with her Walk of Atonement. Parallel events could be seen as Dan’s apprehension at the hands of the Dothraki to Cersei being taken prisoner by the High Sparrow. Cersei’s walk of atonement would parallel Dan’s walk to Vaes Dothrak. Although Cersei is permitted to return to the Red Keep, she’s still awaiting trial. Although Dan is no longer in Mereen, she too is a prisoner awaiting trial. Cersei was stripped of her finery by the hands of the High Sparrow; Dan was stripped of hers by the Dosh Khaleen—both are regarded as the paramount of their religious institution. They’re both in a holding pattern for a time, but both eventually greet their trials with similar approaches. Dan actually attended her trial—though she had far less physical agency at the time. Long story short—they both avoided the consequences of their actions by burning down the religious center and simultaneously murdering EVERYBODY in seats of power. A one-and-done complete political overhaul and power acquisition. This isn’t the pseudo-power that we’ve seen up until now, either. Cersei’s actions lead to her taking the throne at the end of that episode. Following the burning of Vaes Dothrak, Dan is permanently reunited with Drogon—her symbol of power and identity—and she leads the charge of the Great Khalasar to Mereen. By the end of the season, both Dan and Cersei have successfully acquired unbridled power and are on a high-speed bullet train towards confrontation.

Conclusion

For some people, Dan’s behaviour throughout the conquest of Slaver’s Bay and the Great Grass Sea was enough of a tip towards her tyrannical nature. To everybody, the burning of the Sept of Baelor was Cersei’s branding of “Mad Queen.” But let’s also see her ascension for what it was: a power play in the face of grief. Even though Dan will face similar losses to Cersei throughout the course of s7 and s8, the losses that Cersei endured throughout s4-6 are what paved her way to the throne. Cersei would never have taken the throne from her children. She would have preferred Tommen to rule and remain the silent authority, maneuvering in the shadows. So much like the loss of Dan’s two dragons and Mis, and her mounting paranoia and insecurity following RLJ and the Northern plotline, Cersei’s rise to power is less about going mad and more about ambition in the face of tragedy and loss. Every decision she’s made has been slow, cold, and calculating. Cersei is weighing every decision heavily. This isn’t impulsive and reckless brutality. The paranoia is a common denominator between Aerys, Cersei, and Dan, but it is not the dominating factor. So is “Mad Queen” appropriate for either of them? Considering the parallels that I’ve outlined above, having Dan sack King’s Landing following the death of two of her children and her last remaining friend and advisor (The death of Cersei’s children and Tywin prior to taking the throne) only serves to compare the two even more.

#game of thrones #got #meta #my meta #mad queen #dark dany #khal drogo #viserys targaryen #cersei lannister #daenerys targaryen #mad queen dany #anti dany #anti daenerys #idk why I have to use the anti tag #Dan should feel lucky to be paralleled to Cersei #Cers is such an amazingly complex and multidimensional character

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stvrbvrn · 5 years ago

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ａｎ　ａｎｄｒｏｍｅｄａ　ｉｎｔｒｏ－ｐｏｓｔ

* ╰ zoey deutch ; 17 ; she/her —— wow, andromeda black sure has changed. i guess she is feeling isolated from the other slytherin members. guess you can’t really blame them. i still remember them being so independent & steely now they just seem secretive & cynical. guess being a pureblood isn’t helping matters much either. i’m hopeful though. they’ll be just fine.

you can contact me on here in those dms, or my discord is @ alex //#7484

character inspiration: sansa stark (got), astrid leong-teo (crazy rich asians), aphrodite (greek myth)

whelve: (v) to bury something deep, to hide

she’s a warm laugh on a cold morning ; the flick of a wrist ; the gentle clink of pearls ; lipstick smudged on the lip of a glass ; an empty, echoing hall in a museum ; fresh mists of expensive perfume ; delicate fingers brushing aside wisps of hair ; pointed heels abandoned at the bottom of a staircase ; half filled decanters ; a thorn pricking an unsuspecting fingertip ; the slow build of a concerto ; the slam of a heavy door

so this is my girl, my lovely queennnnn

living the high life and hating every moment of it

she can’t find it in her to burn as fiery as bella’s strength or run as cold as cissa’s icy resilience. she is a shadow, a hazy mirror of each sister. similar and yet pale in comparison.

she has always been lukewarm, tepid, medium, her life a long and distressing line of just fine. thank u very much. even as her deepest secrets, dreams, and thoughts boil and bubble beneath the surface of a superficially perfect life.

if anyone were to care enough to ask, she is grateful for her lot in life. a smile always quick to slide into place, polished and content for the pre-destined plan. with her current family a shambles, she is afraid to even think of putting together a new family, the arranged marriage in her future is as terrifying as it is inevitable. she feels as though she will lose everything, her family name, the constant presence of her sisters, and her childhood. her hesitation and dread surely caused by a demotion in title and status after all the notoriety that comes with being a black. surely nothing else more sinister and horribly selfish.

she can’t imagine she shall ever be happy. why should she be? indoctrinated as she is, she has eyes. everything she has witnessed could never be called ideal, as much as it was framed that way. warmth never lived in her mother or father’s heart for her. she sees and knows it, even as she struggled for some glimpse of approval that never came. what is it that they see that she didn’t want them to, something weak and dissatisfied and miserable. but then maybe she simply wasn’t looking hard enough. maybe the next time she blinks she will see something new in their gaze that will assuage the building gap.

the finer things enamor her, and not just the beauty of a delicate fabrics and rich color of wine but also art, history, music. each note and brush stroke a promise that there is something out there. something even better than what she silently resents. if only she were brave enough to seek it

an escapist in all facets, andromeda consumes and absorbs the things around her like a sponge, in search of something. anything to fill a space inside her chest that only widens and yawns at her efforts. she lacks for nothing and often balks at her own greed and dissatisfaction. but “a golden cage is still a cage” each small glimmer of happiness fading the moment it comes

andromeda is an observer. her eyes opened and lips tightly sealed. she sees and dangerously pieces together her own understanding rather than swallow the bitter pill handed to her. she sees and in some cases, judges.

her friends call her dro, or they would if she had any. jkjk she has friends at varying levels of trust. she could never quite commit to complete isolation, her observations fascinating enough to draw her into the fray. her small collection of those she enjoys betraying a weakness in her incredulity. (also bring on any other nicknames that that monstrosity of a name brings to mind. she’ll most likely pretend to hate all of them)

beneath her doubt, her fear of the unknown. she is a hopeless romantic gone to rot. she is distant, as untouchable as a masterpiece in the museum that is her picture perfect life. a thing more suitable for admiration than intimacy.

there is a feeling that no matter your connection to andromeda, that no matter your efforts, there is always something hidden within that she is keeping to herself. and it’s true. there is nothing andromeda would willingly show that she didn’t want people to see.

difficult to reach, to understand. she prefers it this way. guilt and shame shoving down the better parts of her self beneath the mask she is meant to be. the her that her parents beat her into, beat into all three of them with varying success.

while it’s true she is haughty. impatient. a temperamental black. a life of pampering and promises forever ingrained in her world view. while good for her self-worth, it is probably off putting to some. there are at times promises of goodness, she can be thoughtful. intelligent. even driven to empathy when faced with tears, pain calling out to something inside her.

but if there’s anything her family’s mutilated tree has taught her, to bloom is to die. she pictures his escape and subsequent increase in happiness to be the height of abandonment, of betrayal. how dare he leave (without her). how dare he leave her wanting and missing and heartbroken. she truly misses sirius and her head spins, chest aching and eyes burning at the thought of him. yet as always, she goes to great lengths to never reveal her secrets, instead giving her true feelings no form. buried while she looks on in envy and deeply buried hope. the boy thoughtlessly laying a path towards something selfish but impossibly enticing.

while hope is not her strong suit, andromeda is (to her great chagrin and misery) capable of extreme and consuming love. love of beauty and things. love for her sisters. but also her cousin. but mostly, herself. loyalties warring in her heart and tearing at a shaky resolve. at this rate, were someone else to steal one of the splintered, scattering pieces in her chest, it would be the end. the final straw for her unhappiness to be complete.

connections:

girl gang – give her all the best friends. the nicole to her paris. soul sisters. ovaries before brovaries. hymen heroines. those hoes she lives and breathes for. i think typically this would be fellow slytherins or ppl that she met through pureblood high society connections. OPEN

ex-boyfriend/girlfriend – ew this makes me sad and emotions are hard to deAL. basically this will be all angst city. most likely andromeda would be the one to break things off since she wasnt always as skeptical of that familial pressure. depending on how their relationship was, she could regret it or be cold about it. OPEN

rival/frenemies – these two are just too similar to get along. toxic pureblood society has pitted them against each other and no one is winning. okay but if they went from enemies, to reluctant respect, to almost friends?? MAYBE EVEN FRIENDS EVENTUALLY?? i would be here for it asdlk OPEN

confidante – andromeda isn’t honest with anyone, not even herself. but this could be someone that she’s probably known for a long time who she possibly could’ve opened up to in a weak moment and now they’re bonded forever. she would feel indebted to this person for keeping her secrets and would do her best to protect them any way that she could. extra feelings if this person feels the same way and they can be sad, but also cLOSE, together. OPEN

secret school friend – maybe they were forced partners as prefects or a fateful potions class but andromeda found herself making a surprising friend in an unexpected place. she can’t help admiring their beautiful inner persistence/strength despite her reluctance and occasional snobbery. but now they’re older and she really should cut things off. for whatever reason, she just can’t let go. OPEN

banter partner – alright so this would be someone from the other side of the war that andromeda runs into all the time and they always seem to get into arguments! she’s not quite sure why they get under her skin but andromeda finds it difficult to step away from their confrontations. OPEN

muse – listennnn. this person would be someone that andromeda would just be enamored with, she would regard them very highly and make efforts to speak with them and be around them. if this person were on the other side of the war she would probably resent them a little but be unable to resist. i’ll probably just spring this on somebody tbh?? since the relationship would be based on her own tastes. but this would be someone that andromeda would admire for their appearance– sure, but also for the aura that they project.

but yes!! msg me if you’d like to plot and i’m honestly open to any connections!! her past is pretty open ended and she hasn’t quite left her family just yet so she could have loyalties all over the place

#* ∘⡊ ☾ ˚⊹ ι ωαηт тσ gινє уσυ мσяє. вυт ησт єνєяутнιηg. уσυ ∂ση’т ηєє∂ єνєяутнιηg. ⊹ — { about }#incantareintro

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reallyawesomecostumes · 6 years ago

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Dean Winchester in his Coffin

A comparison between Queequeg’s coffin in Herman Melville’s Moby-Dick and Dean’s coffin in Supernatural

(screencap from Home of the Nutty)

In Supernatural 14x11 ‘Damaged Goods’, Dean Winchester builds his own coffin.

It’s not really a coffin, it just looks like one. The box is a ma’lak box designed by Death herself to secure Dean and AU-Michael at the bottom of the Pacific for all eternity*. We as viewers of a long-running episodic television show are pretty sure the Winchester boys will find a way out of this mess in the next couple episodes, but Dean built it, so we have to talk about it.

There are closet metaphors inherent in this coffin-building (I recommend @drsilverfish here); there are show-internal parallels to Amara being locked away, Adam’s current fate in The Cage, the wall in Sam’s mind in season 6; the list goes on. I wanted to talk instead about how Dean’s coffin-building compares to some coffin-building in classic American literature: the story of Queequeg’s coffin in Herman Melville’s “Moby-Dick; or, The Whale.”

Moby-Dick, published 1851, is a book that many of us were forced to read in high school or college. I escaped this fate but had to read “The Scarlet Letter” and “Bartleby the Scrivener” instead. I did watch the Patrick Stewart TV miniseries version as a teenager, of course. For some dumb reason** I became a Moby-Dick reader because I was a Queequeg/Ishmael shipper, so know that I have a fairly biased perspective on the book as a whole.

In Moby-Dick, our narrator Ishmael (a depressed unemployed Yankee) meets Queequeg, a cannibal

(Queequeg as a character is a jumble of noble savage tropes, the author’s own knowledge of Pacific Islanders met during his whaling experience, and ideas pulled from other contemporary books both fiction and non-fiction), when they become accidental bedfellows at Peter Coffin’s inn (Coffin is a prominent name among the whalers of Nantucket, in real life and in the world of the story). Ishmael wants to go whaling, and Queequeg’s a guy who is very good at whaling. They have similar life goals, if not similar life experiences . They’re textually married***.

Queequeg catches a chill crawling around belowdecks on the Pequod moving barrels to find a leak (the hold is described as an ice-box). While he’s dying Queequeg says he doesn’t want his body to be wrapped up in his hammock before being thrown overboard like an ordinary sailor, but put in a canoe-style coffin like the harpooneers from Nantucket use. He convinces the ship’s carpenter to make one for him. Queequeg kits the coffin out with food and water and his (most precious possessions) harpoon and paddle, and puts earth from the hold at the foot of it . He lays in it, and Pip the cabin boy sings nonsense briefly (a la the Fool in King Lear). Ishmael sort-of suggests that watching this guy die would make him start a religion. But then Queequeg decides not to die. He throws off the fever with his own will, and recovers (for plot reasons, but also so Melville could add more Noble Savage tropes). He uses the coffin as a clothes-chest. He starts carving the lid with the pattern of the tattoos on his body (these tattoos are religious in nature, but are unknown and unknowable, ‘a complete theory of the heavens and the earth’), making it into a sort-of body double for him.

Some time passes. A guy falls from the rigging, and the stern life-buoy is thrown to him, and both the man and the old, rotting cask that serves as a buoy sink and drown. It is suggested that the nice new well-built no longer needed coffin can be made into a new life-buoy. This re-purposing is lampshaded in text:

“Here now’s the very dreaded symbol of grim death, by a mere hap, made the expressive sign of the help and hope of most endangered life. A life-buoy of a coffin! Does it go further? Can it be that in some spiritual sense the coffin is, after all, but an immortality-preserver! I’ll think of that.”

-Captain Ahab, in a theatrical aside, Chapter 127: The Deck.

After the whale drags Captain Ahab down and sinks the Pequod, the very well-made coffin/life-buoy shoots to the surface, and the only surviving crewmember (Ishmael, our narrator) clings to it until another ship picks him up.

While Queequeg’s coffin is intended for mundane use (to preserve his body from sharks after death) and is eventually used for mundane purpose (Ishmael’s life preserver), Dean’s pseudo-coffin-building serves a more esoteric purpose - to lock himself and his angel double away from the world said angel wants to destroy (“for all angel is not’ing more dan de shark well goberned” - Fleece the cook, Moby-Dick). The ma’lak box is Dean and Michael’s “immortality-preserver”. We have two pairs of characters, and two death-coded vessels that serve to preserve them.

Remember that time Ishmael and Queequeg got married? Some authors have characterized this wedding as "the first portrait of same-sex marriage in American literature". That it causes some readers 'uneasiness'. The line 'our heart's honeymoon', describing the time post-marriage, was censored in the original publication. Other readers have taken the marriage esoterically, relating Ishmael and Queequeg's earthly marriage to the internal marriage of the self to the Jungian shadow-self.

Shadows**** follow the two protagonists of Moby-Dick, Ishmael and Ahab. Ishmael accepts and marries his shadow, Queequeg the cannibal, and learns the customs of the whaling-ship from him. He admires the unknowableness of the ocean and sky as well as Queequeg's unknowable tattoos. He frees himself from his initial depression, and is literally saved at the novel's conclusion by Queequeg's pseudo-body. Ahab, conversely, pushes away Pip the cabin boy (who serves as Lear's fool through the story, and speaks unknowably) and turns towards Fedallah the Parsee (described as Ahab's shadow in the book) who speaks concrete but awful truths. Ahab rejects reality and stays on a path of revenge even though warned multiple times that he will fail. He eventually dies, and brings most of his crew down with him. His lack of acceptance of his good shadow and of his true place in the world brings about destruction. Self-actualization results in being saved.

The (current) protagonists of Supernatural have shadow selves as well. Again @drsilverfish has an excellent post about this. Castiel's shadow is The Shadow/The Empty, which has appeared in his own form, and wishes only for sleep and nothingness. Dean's shadow, AU!Michael, only wants to destroy the world that Dean keeps sacrificing himself to protect. Sam's shadow, Nick, went through the same dark experiences Sam did, but unlike Sam wound up horribly twisted and murderous. We haven't seen Jack's shadow-self yet, but I suspect current sweet and kind graceless!Jack will have a foil in future uncaring soulless!Jack. The idea of marrying oneself to one's shadow, in Supernatural, is nearly unthinkable: they are destructive, inhuman entities. However, in 14x11 Sam managed to accept the reality of his shadow self and release himself from responsibility for Nick.

At this point Dean's plan is to death-wed himself to Michael for eternity, sharing one body and one coffin-bed at the bottom of the Pacific. We know from Jung and from Melville that the only way to survive the confrontation with the shadow is to accept it - to 'Know Thyself', without misconceptions about your place in the world. 'Gain[ing] the perspective on [your] soul and the universe that will make balance possible.' The coffin will become a life-buoy.

I suspect the ma'lak box will be used to trap something other than Dean or Michael (soulless!Jack, probably) at the end of this season. Even if it's current purpose is untenable, it is a tool that can be used in the future.

Comparison between Moby-Dick and Supernatural can occur on a number of different levels. Ishmael and Dean (and Castiel whose human vessel, Jimmy Novak, is of the line of Biblical Ishmael) are the heroes of the bildungsroman part of the story and are hangers on to Ahab/John/Sam's Shakespearean revenge quest. Each story is a very American depiction of a masculine world. Each mirror the world in a smaller vessel, a ship and a car. Jung's concept of the shadow self, however, holds as the key to this season through all of these eleven episodes, and the shadow self is one of many keys that promote understanding of Melville's Moby-Dick. Self-actualization saves the day.

* Note that geologists cry whenever people suggest indestructible things sent to the bottom of the ocean will stay there for all eternity.

** It was Yuletide, and I’d just binge-read the entire Aubrey-Maturin series.

*** I wrote about this last year when Yockey dropped Led Zeppelin’s Moby Dick into the story. Moby Dick, song, has nothing to do with Moby-Dick, book, except their mutual length, but Supernatural and Moby-Dick share quite a few themes.

**** yes, Melville does make the shadows of his white protagonists literally dark-skinned

References:

@drsilverfish, “A Fridge-Locker, An Enochian Puzzle Box, a Ma’lak Box… and the Closet (14x11 Damaged Goods)”, http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/182296360214/a-fridge-locker-an-enochian-puzzle-box-a-malak

@drsilverfish, “The Shadow (14x08)”, http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/180906003584/the-shadow-14x08

Brashers, H.C., 1962, "Ishmael's Tattoos": The Sewanee Review, v.70, n.1, p.137-154, http://wwww.jstor.org/stable/27540756

Halverson, John, 1963, "The Shadow in Moby-Dick": American Quarterly, v.15, n.3, p.436-446, http://www.jstor.org/stable/2711373

Horton, Margy Thomas, 2012, "Melville's Unfolding Selves: Identity Formation in Mardi, Moby-Dick, and Pierre": doctoral dissertation, Baylor University

Melville, Herman, “Moby-Dick; or, The Whale”, project Gutenberg ebook, http://www.gutenberg.org/files/2701/2701-h/2701-h.htm

#spn 14x11 #spn meta #spn spoilers #my meta #moby dick #yep i actually wrote it #themes are for eighth grade book reports #and also for relating personal experiences to fictional experiences #as well as higher concepts #spn #supernatural

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mittensmorgul · 6 years ago

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Aah 14.03-- power doesn’t fix anything.

Dean is paralleled to Michael. Michael has arguably the most power of any living being at the moment, and Dean is just a human with human-acquired skills and knowledge. But they are both shown as having a similar objective for completely opposite reasons.

Kaia’s spear was the one weapon in their universe with the potential to hurt him. And Kaia was the one person he couldn’t manipulate into just handing it over. She hurt him, and he couldn’t heal it. Hers was the one scar that remained on Dean from his time as Michael’s vessel. It was one of the few memories of his time possessed that Cas was able to access, too.

Dean told Sam at the end of this episode that he didn’t remember most of what Michael did with him, because he spent the entire time “drowning,” and trying to claw his way to the surface. That he remembers vividly as the horror it was, but Michael’s encounter with Kaia was one memory shared by Dean.

Her spear stabbed both Dean and Michael, and afterward became BOTH of their obsession, for opposite reasons.

Fascinating considering the Hammurabi Gun from 14.20, no? The weapon Chuck invented on the spot that would inflict the same damage on two people-- one by choice and one as consequence.

Michael then spends his time and focus on retrieving the spear so he can destroy it, so that he can eliminate any actual threat to him in this world (which he goes into much greater detail about in 14.09, arguably the companion episode to this one and the narrative bookend for this particular turn of the plot). But through talking with Kaia, Dean clearly sees himself through her eyes, and begins the process of differentiating himself from Michael, of seeing very clearly how his thoughts, beliefs, and actions look so similar to Michael’s on the surface, and understanding that that’s not what he wants to be.

Dark Kaia: I know where it comes from -- your anger, your impatience. It's fear. You're scared. And you're weak. Dean: All right. Shut up. Dark Kaia: Michael hurt you. He hurt me too.

Dean, who had been compared to John in some of his “childrearing” methods he employed with Jack, who has been working for years to pull himself out from the label of blunt little instrument, obedient soldier who takes orders (despite conversely building himself into the representation of humanity and free will by his own choices all along), this is a matter of his own self-worth and self-perception now. This is him confronting his ultimate fear.

Kaia calls him out as “scared” and “weak,” but this is only because Dean believes this of himself right now, and not because it’s fundamentally true. 14.10 will prove this, and then Dean will have to confront what he will come to believe is an even bigger failure in 14.14 for not being “strong enough” to contain Michael, leading directly to Jack feeling he needed to take action to destroy Michael at any cost.

Welcome to Downtown Guiltsville, population: Dean.

Because now we have to look at the other half of this story: what happened in the bunker. Lora is brought in, cursed by a witch to age rapidly. Cas attempts to heal her symptoms, but is unable to affect the underlying curse. His powers are not enough to stop this and save her. So they call Rowena-- counter a witch’s spell with a witch’s spell, right? But Rowena’s spell still isn’t able to save Lora.

The problem was that they were all looking at the effects of the spell, making assumptions about the cause, and attempting to cure the wrong thing. Jack laments that if he had his powers, he could’ve saved her, but the irony is that the more power that’s poured into the spell, the stronger it becomes. And it’s Jack, using his own human intellect, who discovers the link.

Because that’s what it was-- a link between Lora and the Witch, effectively mirroring the two characters through the pendants they both wore, which siphoned off Lora’s life force into the witch. When the witch died via witch killing bullet, the spell intensified, funneling more and more of Lora’s life force to counter the witch’s own death. It became a black hole for life force-- with nothing living at the other end of the spell. Which makes me wonder if Jack HAD been able to heal Lora with his power, if it wouldn’t have inadvertently resurrected the witch at the other end of the power connection. If Jack HAD his powers, things may have gone from bad to worse, because it wasn’t power they needed, but the simplest of all possible solutions: sever the connection and Lora’s own life force would return to her, pulled back from the vacuum of her connection to the witch.

And isn’t that the bigger story of what 14.20 revealed to us? “This isn’t just a story, it’s our lives!” TFW has been running around for years “curing symptoms” of this larger problem-- of Chuck’s meddling in their lives, of this hidden connection that’s kept him connected to them, effectively draining off their life force in a metaphorically identical fashion for his own entertainment.

Jack discovered this connection via the necklaces, and the cure was simple enough. Break the connection, break the spell. Pouring more and more power into it would never break the cycle. His very simple human solution went directly to the source of the problem.

(for some reason my brain is repeating “Alter the sigil, alter the spell” over and over again, from 9.09, which is just a different twist on this effect, on a different level of the narrative spiral)

Dabb Era has been pointing to this from the start-- the surface layer details might change, but the Big Bads are all ultimately irrelevant because they’re all just “symptoms” of this underlying curse. And in 14.20, through Dean and Jack, we’ve finally seen through to Chuck’s Big Narrative Cursed Necklace that he’d had wrapped around TFW from the start. Sam attempted to smash it but had the wrong weapon (will there be a “right weapon” or will this become another s11 where it comes down to balance and understanding?), while Cas had (exactly as he’d been in 14.03) focused only on the “symptom” of Jack needing to be cured.

What they’re left with in the aftermath of their revelation, after seeing straight through to the cause of all their problems, is each other. And as we know, the three of them are always enough. Now all they need is a cosmic hammer big enough to crush the source of that curse once and for all.

(yeah, I’m saying chuck’s the dead witch in this parallel. does that mean Chuck must die for TFW to be released? Nope. The necklace he’s got strangling them all just needs a good smashing...)

(oh hey that’s another reason I fucking hate the Samulet and everything it stands for, just needed to point this out again for reasons >.>)

#spn 14.03 #spn 14.20 #spiders georg of the tnt loop #spn 14.09 #spn 14.14 #it's spirals all the way down #spn 9.09 #spn 9.22 #for the we three will be enough reference #spn 11.23 #spn 11.20 #for a source on my samulet hatred #if you say 'mysterious ways' so help me i will kick your ass #alter the sigil alter the spell #dabb vs cars #this is where he's been driving us from the start and bobo has apparently been sitting shotgun since the beginning #s14 hellatus rewatch

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twdmusicboxmystery · 6 years ago

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How Henry Spoilers Define Daryl’s Arc

Okay everyone, let’s talk about Henry spoilers! These were officially leaked about six weeks ago, and I’ve been wanting to post about them since then. I didn’t get around to it before the holidays, and I’m just now getting back into it, as you know.

***So, if you hadn’t figured it out from that first paragraph, I will be discussing spoilers in this post! Don’t read if you don’t want to know. You’ve been warned!!!***

In info from the spoiler site reads thus:

“The information on Henry is evolving. He escapes the Whisperer camp sometime in episode 15 and heads back to the Kingdom. This is when he will encounter Alpha, but it looks like he will not survive and will likely end up on a pike.”

As I told my group when these surfaced, man I hate it when I’m right. At least, when it’s about something depressing.

Here’s the thing: if you look HERE, I predicted that Henry might die by the end of the season. And it was a very casual prediction. I just felt like in episode 6, they were focusing a lot on the Carzekiel family dynamic and how devoted Carol and Ezekiel were to their son. It just felt like a tragedy waiting to happen. And then there was Henry’s promise that he’d be back for the fair. Yeah, probably not gonna happen, y’all.

But then in THIS POST where I talked about predictions and possibilities for Daryl’s arc (because he’s going to be looking for Henry, much like he looked for both Sophia and Beth) I said I no longer believed Henry would die. Sure, it’s a possibility, but I thought it was more likely that Daryl would find he and he’d represent Daryl finally finding someone and getting redemption in that way.

Nope. Nada. Poor Daryl can’t catch a break. Yeah. Totally sucks. For everyone.

So what does this mean? Well, let’s discuss.

First off, you know how I keep saying I don’t think Ezekiel will get his comic book death. Of course we won’t know for sure until the Whisperer arc is over and he hasn’t died (I.e. it could still happen at any future point) but for me, this is pretty much confirmation of that. Zeke isn’t getting his CB death. It’s going to Henry.

Foreshadowing:

As depressing as this is, TD should also look at it from a foreshadowing fulfillment stand point. Once again, THEY DON’T SAY THINGS LIKE THIS WITHOUT FULFILLING THEM! We really should have guessed this outcome from this line. We’re all just too optimistic and want to think our beloved characters will live. And for the record, most people assumed this pointed to Ezekiel’s comic book death. They threw a twist in by making it Henry’s instead. Yet another thing TD has been correct about.

And what’s the last thing Daryl said to Beth? “Go up the road. I’ll meet you there.” Beth’s last words to Daryl: “I’m not gonna leave you.”

More foreshadowing:

This already made sense because Carol lost Sophia and Michonne lost Andrei. But once again, CALLBACKS ALWAYS DOUBLE AS FORESHADOWING! The proof is in the pudding, folks.

Not to mention, the kids around Carol pretty much always die. Totally sucks for Carol, and we wanted to believe she would get to keep Henry. And to some extent, she did. She had six good years raising him from a young boy into adulthood, but it still sucks that she’ll be burying yet another child.

(Remember when I said Carol might cut her hair again after a tragedy? Still remains to be seen, but I’d be willing to bet this is the tragedy and the short hair will return after Henry’s death.)

Henry/Beth Parallels:

I know people are going to worry that, what with all the Henry/Beth parallels we’ve already seen this season, this shows that Beth is dead, just as Henry will be. Please don’t let that worry you. Let me show you why, despite the parallels, it’s not the same thing.

In fact, I’ve gotten several comments on my picture posts showing Henry/Beth parallels by people who are obviously NOT TDers, who see the parallels and say things like, “So Henry is going to die, too.”

And I understand where that comes from because they think Beth is dead so parallels between her and Henry make them think he’ll die too. Now he will, and that’s not the best thing for TD because people will be able to point at that as a way to prove Beth is dead. But, check it out: In my predictions post, I said if Daryl looked for another person who dies, that would be three searches for a rule of threes. But I realized I was actually mistaken about that. If we include Rick, this will be Daryl’s 4th search.

1) Sophia

2) Beth

3) Rick

4) Henry.

And that simply means the rule of threes doesn’t really apply here. (I could get into intricate details and MAKE it fit 😉 , but it doesn’t apply in the way I was thinking of when I wrote that post.

But that made me think of another…pattern, I guess, for lack of a better word. One we couldn’t have seen before knowing about Henry’s death. Henry’s arc, at least in how it turns out, will be exactly like Sophia’s. Putting parallels aside, it will turn out MORE like Sophia’s than like Beth’s. The reason being that we will see Henry’s remains, just like we did Sophia’s. So in both cases, while the missing person wasn’t found while they still lived, or in time to save them, they were SORT OF found, but only after death. Sophia came out of the barn. Henry, I’m assuming, will be on a pike. *winces* Beth and Rick, by contrast, we never saw bodies for. They simply disappeared. And Rick, at least, we can prove is alive. So she’s more like Rick (alive) than Sophia/Henry (dead).

That begs the question: why all the Henry/Beth parallels, then?

Well, as per usual, @thegloriouscollectorlady had some amazing insights about this and how it shapes Daryl’s arc. Hence the title of this post. Let’s start by talking about what the spoilers are saying about the Whisperers:

“This whole Whisperers situation and conflict is going to be more complex than the comics. We think there’s more going on and we may be in for some surprises.”

That just SOUNDS like something that might include Beth, doesn’t it? But more than that, we’re already foreseeing a lot of possible parallels between Grady and the Whisperers. We know Henry goes looking for Lydia, because he likes her. We don’t know much yet about the confrontation between him and Alpha that leads to his death, but if it’s something about him wanting to free Lydia, who’s a prisoner to Alpha, well, doesn’t that sound a whole hell of a lot like Beth trying to free Noah from Dawn, just before being shot?

So we’re thinking we may see some powerful Beth/Henry vs. Dawn/Alpha parallels when all this happens.

Also remember that Whisperers have rape culture, just like Grady did. The leadership dynamic is also strikingly similar (female leader, males are second in command, people not treated well, and leadership held through sheer force and brutality.) So Whisperers = Grady 2.0 and that’s Beth’s story. What better way to reintroduce her than through this similar dynamic? We always said what she learned from Grady would be important moving forward. And the Whisperers, more than any other villainous group we’ve seen since S5, are shaping up to be EXACTLY like Grady.

Not to mention, in the CBs, TF finds Alpha just before finding the heads on pikes and she’s brandishing a bloody machete. So the red machete may reappear thru the Whsiperers, which may be the point of the RED MACHETE miniseries. If Beth is with the Whisperers, Legs may still be her, but the point may have been to show the audience how the red machete went from Rick to the Saviors and eventually to the Whisperers.

And that becomes interesting too (seriously we could spin in a million different directions with this) because Rick got the red machete from a bad group (the Claimers) and now, if it’s in Alpha’s hands, it may eventually pass to Beth, who’s so heavily paralleled with Rick.

So the Whisperers are kind of like the Claimers 2.0. (We also see this because in the trailer for 9b, Lydia tells Daryl he’s more like one of them, the Whisperers, than like one of Michonne’s group. That’s a whole lot like what Joe Claimer’s argument to Daryl was.)

But I digress.

Okay, so what does this mean for Daryl? Why parallel Beth and Henry so closely? First, it’s important to note that ONLY Daryl and the audience is aware of these parallels. Maybe that seems obvious, but Carol secretly watched most of Daryl and Henry’s interactions, right? But she’s not relating it to Beth in the slightest because Daryl and Beth were alone on the road together. So we, the audience, can observe these parallels, but in terms of characters, they ONLY mean anything to Daryl.

That’s important because this is going to reopen a very raw, unhealed wound for him.

For Daryl, looking for Sophia represented finding a place for himself in the group, and also reliving his childhood because no one looked for him. He was strong and saved himself. In 9x08, Aaron also says fear stops Daryl from letting people get too close to him. Fear of failure. When he loses someone he’s searched for, he blames himself.

Both Beth and Denise recognized this fear in Daryl and called him on it. (Beth in Still bc since Sophia, he never lets anyone get close; Denise because he isn’t handling his shit and it’s stupid.) It’s not Daryl’s job to actually save them, but rather to try and save them. They generally have to save themselves. But Daryl can’t see that. He can’t see beyond his own failures to save people he cares about.

Daryl has to learn that he can’t save people directly. He can give them the skills to save themselves, but they have to choose. And this is what’s always happened. He gave Tina meds to help her survive, but she did something stupid by walking up to two walkers and getting herself bitten. Daryl gave Dwight and Sherry the opportunity to be saved, but they chose to go back to Negan. (This messes with Daryl’s head, by the way, because he can’t understand why someone would choose not to be saved. He simply can’t comprehend that level of stupidity.) He gave Denise the opportunity to go on the outside and learn to protect herself, but she still died. And of course, he gave Beth the skills to survive on her own, but she has to save herself.

Again, this was @thegloriouscollectorlady’s insight into Daryl’s arc, and it’s fantastic! Because he can’t see beyond his own failures, this is not something he ever has or ever will learn. At least, not on his own. When he couldn’t save Rick, he started living on his own in the wild.

The only way I imagine he’ll learn this is by Beth’s return. Not only will he see that he was never gonna be able to save her—she had to save herself and did—but he’ll see that he gave her the skills to survive, but it was up to her to use them. I think he’ll finally start to comprehend this, and maybe it will even be a matter of her telling him. She pointed out his emotional stumbling blocks to him before in Still, and he realized she was right and then proceeded to move past them. He hasn’t had that kind of break through since he lost her in S5.

So, in short, with spoilers of Henry’s death, we’re starting to understand why the parallels between him and Beth are happening. It’s going to be the final straw for Daryl before Beth finally returns and he learns what he needs to learn in order to be the person—maybe even the leader—he needs to become.

Another interesting parallel:

Apparently, Henry will get so close to the Kingdom before actually being caught and killed that he can see the lights from the fair. This is like Andrea (who got close enough to prison to wave at Rick before being captured, which leads to her death) and Beth (almost got her out of Grady but got shot at the last possible minute).

I should probably touch on Carol’s arc since Henry is her son. I won’t go into much detail, but let’s just say we’re hoping Carol deals with Henry’s death in a healthier way than she did with Sophia’s. Still mourning, of course, but not devolving into the person that burnt David and Karen alive.

Notice I said, we HOPE that’s what will happen. Honestly, I’m not convinced. We saw her burn the Saviors in 9x01, which was a close parallel to her burning Karen and David in 4a, so that might foreshadow her returning to that mindset.

She may also end up taking Michonne’s CB arc at some point. If that doesn’t mean much to you, don’t worry about it. If it does happen, it probably won’t be this season, so I can talk about it later.

Finally, I want to mention one more detail. Then I’ll shut up. I promise. I’ve had a lot of people this season asking me what the point of killing Carl was when Henry seems to be taking all his arcs, and is roughly the same age. Well, Henry’s impending death pretty well answers that question.

1. Carl wouldn’t have survived much longer. It’s not like they killed him off and then gave someone else his arc (Henry) and kept him on for multiple seasons. If Carl had kept this arc, he simply would have died this season rather than last season.

2. It has to do with how this affects Carol and Daryl. Obviously this will drive Carol and Ezekiel’s arc in a way Carl’s death never would have. As for Daryl, well, it just wouldn’t have been realistic for it to be Carl. Carl would never have left Alexandria, Michonne, and Judith behind to become a blacksmith’s apprentice at the Hilltop. So then Carol would never have asked Daryl to protect him, and the rest of Daryl’s impending arc would have been kaput. See what I mean? It just wouldn’t have worked if it had been Carl, so they gave it Henry, and it appears it will end relatively quickly.

So yeah, just wanted to point that out for the people who’ve asked. It’s not a hating-on-Carl thing. It really is a serving-the-story thing, which is what Gimple told us back when Carl died.

Thoughts on any of this?

Special thanks to @thegloriouscollectorlady, @wdway, @bethgreeneisqueen, @lilly.loop, and @frangipanilove for contributing their thoughts to this.

#beth greene #beth greene lives #beth is alive #beth is coming #td theory #td theories #team delusional #team defiance #beth is almost here #bethyl

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seasaltmemories · 6 years ago

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To Live As Free Men and Women

Over and over again I hear the conflict of echoes summarized as “shifting from relying on gods to relying on humanity’s own accomplishments.” And on the surface that makes perfect sense. All the endgame quotes are about refusing to bow down to Duma and wanting to fight for their world.

However this reading has always not sat well with me because of two things. First this celebration of humanity’s individual strength is not brought up until the last moments of Act 5. To call it the main theme when so much of the earlier conflict was about class feel disingenuous. Second, this reading tends to pit Alm and Celica as opposites where Alm shows Celica the light. Aside from disliking the convenient dismissive treatment of the female protagonist, my obvious bias aside, it just isn’t good storytelling to have one of your leads solely exist to be wrong. Not to mention the game is going for a sort of dualism between the two of them, so to paint Celica’s route as just one mistake is short-sighted.

So the question remains, what is the main theme of Echoes? Does it have a theme? Regardless of your thoughts on the game, it still sends a message, every piece of art does, even if it is as banal as “good will always triumph,” that is still a theme. So to examine echoes, thoroughly we have to find a thread that manages to link the entire game together.

The best place to start is obviously the beginning. After the opening video. We are given a little exposition dump about the state of Valentia. Two countries and two gods, one emphasizing war and the other emphasizing peace. Makes sense, it is pretty obvious which one we’re supposed to root for and what country we’ll be following. Cue the prologue where after everyone was so excited to meet the knight in the woods, he turns out to be totally willing to murder children. It would be so easy to write Slayde off as a bad apple but the narrative makes no attempts to try and act as if anything about him is non-standard. If anything the start of Act 1 goes out of its way to detail just how rotten Zofia is. It’s fitting that Alm joins a rebellion first and foremost, and it is not until Act 3 Rigel really becomes an antagonist. And much of Act 1 is targeting Zofia’s own corruption, its bandits and power-hungry nobles. Despite being massive problems, Alm rushes headlong into them, wanting nothing more than to protect people.

Act 2 starts similarly, Celica learning of just how horrible the pirates are, and how they have been allowed practically free reign of the seas. She has even fewer reasons to get involved, considering her party is literally five people, but she can’t secure safe passage otherwise so let’s do this. If it takes fighting necrodragons then she will fight necrodragons.

Despite both of their reckless behavior, they accomplish real change and make things for the better. And so after growing up into the people they are today, Alm and Celica in an obviously heartwarming manner. Except quickly things tilt sideways.

Celica’s hypocritical behavior has been long-pointed out, wishing him to avoid bloodshed after just killing a pirate king, but things still stay civil until this moment.

“Alm: Nrgh… If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear I was speaking to a blue blood. My station doesn’t matter, Celica. I’m here because I was called. I have a duty to perform, and I’ll perform it. No more, and no less.

Celica: Oh, Alm…

Alm: Do you think I WANTED this fight? This all started because Lima IV went and angered the empire. If you wish to point fingers, point them at the ruler who failed his people. It’s his fault we’re in this mess.”

Alm points to Lima and the system that failed Zofia, and while he is not wrong, as the Zofian heir, Celica is just as much a part of that system. And to have someone so important to her throw the failings of the state at her feet, when all her life she has simply tried to survive, feels like the worse betrayal. And when Alm still expects her to hold responsibility for all those mistakes (even if he doesn’t directly ask it of her) she explodes. Now obviously Alm didn’t know how his words would impact her, and Celica was the first to go on the offensive, but often this discussion gets characterized as just being about violence, when that discussion is just a footnote to the real conflict.

Starting with Alm, Act 3 opens with Alm finally meeting Berkut face to face, someone who represents all of Rigel’s teachings about power and strength. While a fearsome opponent, he has an utter meltdown after Alm’s army beats him. As they go on their way to face Desaix, even Clive starts to fail Alm by doubting him and questioning if it is worth it to try and save Delthea, and depending on how well you play the next few levels, he really might fail Alm such as when/if Mathilda dies and he blames Alm for her death. While he still will eventually come around to believe in Alm once again, we see that even after retaking Zofia, the old order is still not completely gone.

Celica meanwhile has to confront another outlaw king, but this time Greith is more personal, aside from people in her army having been directly harmed by him, there’s this lingering thread of Greith only having been able to grow so powerful because of Lima’s negligence. In-universe there is no reason she has to go and stop him, it is a significant detour from her pilgrimage, still she refuses to enable this injustice. Greith warns her that there will always be another one like him, and when they arrive at the temple, Mila is gone and unable to fix everything like she wanted to do. So Celica does what she has been running away from her entire life, she reveals her status as the lost princess and promises to protect Zofia and Mila.

However while this is a good choice both for her development and from a logical standpoint, we start to see that even it is not without consequences in the Act 4. Determined to save Mila, Celica eventually comes into contact with Jedah, who says as long as she gives up her soul to Duma, he will return Mila. Now while Celica is often lambasted for this choice, let’s look at how she sees this and why she doesn’t immediately distrust him.

While we have seen Jedah be a creep all game, this is the first time Celica has seen him, and while he is othered and marked evil with a lot of traits, such as his blue skin, how stupid would it be if in real life you refused to work with people because “they looked evil” not to mention he is the leader of a similar faith, it would be like if a protestant Christian talked with the Pope. Jedah is a scumbag but Celica has no reason in her eyes to immediately distrust him/assume he is lying.

And having traced Celica’s actions up until now, how she hates the suffering of others and will do anything in her power to fix things, why would she not consider herself a worthy exchange for Zofia’s restoration? With Conrad’s reappearance, there’s even another heir ready to take over. All her life she’s been confronted with her father’s failure, and what kind of ruler would she be if she followed in his footsteps?

Still despite this mindset, she does not go to Duma Tower to die. She plans to see Mila and rescue her first and foremost. But when it looks as if Mila is completely gone and impossible to recover, she decides she will at least try and protect those she loves.

Before we can look at how that decision go, we need to return back to Alm. In Act 4, we learn that Rigel is pretty much as corrupt as Zofia. People like Nuibaba and Jerome manipulate good people like Zeke and Tatiana purely for their own selfish gain. Throughout all this Alm is treated as if he is already King of Zofia, which Alm never really confronts and very obviously chafes at the thought. He stands poised to become a living legend, when horror of all horror he ends up being the one to kill his own father.

While Rigel welcomes him with open arms as there prince, Alm finds no joy in the title and learns that all his hard work was just to fulfill Rudolf’s plans. And the closer he gets to the climax the more and more trauma he suffers, having to kill his only remaining family left, Berkut having gone mad from his failure to live up to Rigel’s ideals of power over everything. In the end it culminates in Alm having to even kill the woman he loves.

The only thing that keeps this story from becoming the tragedy we first saw at the beginning of the game is the fact Mila takes pity on them and decides to release Falchion for Alm. So to act as if the events of Echoes were purely fueled by human ingenuity is disingenuous.

So what was the point of this little recap? Well when you look closely you see it is not just Duma and Mila who failed them, but the entire way their world was structured, the sins of their fathers who created/maintained a world where the weakest were always exploited the most. A world where they were denied happiness and set up to fail. Celica has her entire life defined by being a part of this system, less an individual person and more a title. What use was she as an individual, if she didn’t give her all for a country her blood had left down? And Alm was denied a family, and forced to kill them simply because of Rudolf’s plan, even if it was for the greater good. The world Duma and Mila set-up centuries ago is not the type of world these people need anymore. Killing them is not enough, they have to change the entire structure of society as they know it. It’s why they get rid of Rigel and Zofia in the end to create the One United Kingdom, because only then can they start fresh, free from the influences of before.

Now some might say, why explain make such a big deal over such a minor detail? Gods, society, what’s the difference? But like I said earlier a theme needs to encapsulate the entire work, not just the climax. And society’s failing manifest in multiple ways in Echoes, from classism, to tragedy of Sonya’s family, to Valber’s loss. From start to finish Echoes never lets you forget what a broken world Valentia is. And to fix it you can’t just take Alm’s impulsive idealism or Celica’s country-bound devotion. Sometimes you need both, and to attack the problem at the source of its roots.

#fire emblem echoes #fe echoes #fire emblem echoes: shadows of valentia #shadows of valentia #fe:15 #seasalt talks #meta #tldr: duma and mila weren't the only rotten thing about Valentia #and both Alm and Celica were important to fixing Valentia #enjoy the fruits of my midterm essay energy

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punkakess · 7 years ago

Note

Medieval royalty AU - Natray

Heyyyy, late I know!!! I’m not sure this fit into the Medieval category, i got excited and my fingers slipped. I’m not sure this is considered a drabble bc it’s over 2k words. Anyway, enjoy^^

Also, this is for Day 4 of the Gratsu AU Week

The Web Valley smelled of death. Thousands of bodies littering the ground, which had absolved so much blood to the point the crimson liquid overflowed the battlefield. Screams and cries of both courage and begs for pity resounded on the natural walls that climbed up high and surrounded the armies.

His armor, incrusted with rare gems, was heavy and ruined his equilibrium. His shield seemed more of a nuisance than protection, it impeded his movements. His helmet, decored with the crown, limited his vision, it made difficult to properly aim at his enemies’ hearts. All his attire obstructed his technique. However the king refused to take them off, even if all he needed was his sword. The ancient writing on its smooth surface was hidden under blood and gore, the hilt was slippery under his strong hold, drenched in sweat, yet it didn’t slip and never faltered. The weapon was made to the king, it loved him as much as he loved it.

They worked together, as a team. The magic was on the sword but the hero was the one who wielded the blade. Waving it with measured movements, slicing at metal and leather, flesh and bones until the foes before him bowed in bloody defeat. Nothing could stop them, together they were invincible. Together they could protect what was most important to them.

At least that’s what they thought.

A shout of his name, carried over the battle screams, caught the warriors’ attention. The voice was incontestable and a shiver of fear as well as excitement made the little hairs at the back of his neck stand on end. The king’s eyes darted around, frantically searching for the one destined to help him achieve victory. Every hero needed a lover, someone to share an invincible love. Despair filled his mind when the search ended with empty results.

Where was his lover?

“Are you searching for this little fly?” The dark sorcerer questioned with sarcasm.

The silence that settled over the battlefield was quelling and made the fear flooding his body all the more clear. Never before it had clamped its claws so tight as at that moment, when his eyes fell on the scene of his love struggling to breath as the dark sorcerer lifted him from the ground by his elegant neck. The lord of dark magic squeezed a little bit more, digging black painted, enlogated nails on olive skin and the king’s fiancé chocked on a whimper.

The painful sound made the king’s heart sink and his hold on the sword tightened. Maybe if he used more magic than usual, he would be able to reach both his enemy and lover before anything drastic happened. Several men separated him from the duo but they were nothing but insects compared to the power the sword possessed.

For a moment he locked eyes with his destined rival and immediately regretted for he caught the dangerous glint in those charcoal orbs. He hesitated. The dark sorcerer smiled insanely. A black blade teared through abdominal muscles. His lover’s scream of agony lasted only a few seconds before his slender body fell to the ground like a rag doll.

The wail of fury penetrated the hearts of all the warriors there present. It embed in them the pain in which the king was drowning. Red hot anger invaded the very soul of the hero who surged forward with a feral howl, slashing away and at random, disposing of who dared to stand between him and the one who murdered his reason to live. The king went berserker, his consciousness faded as his self retreated into his mindscape. The magic of the sword, which took form of a powerful, blood-thirsty dragon took over the body. It didn’t differ foe and ally.

Yes, his armor was heavy so he unceremoniously discarded it, baring his torso, showing the dragon like tattoo on his shoulder. The shield had been dropped even before. The helmet supporting the crown, also heavy in so many ways, was thrown far away, freeing his vision. Now, with unlimited mobility, the king crouched in a fighting position, presenting the dark sorcerer a challenge. Only one chance. Only one blow. Only one survivor. The corrupted man crouched in a similar position, accepting the challenge.

They both gazed into each other’s eyes, expressions expectedly different, giving away their thoughts and emotions. A sadist smirk for a mad man and an animalistic snarl for a revengeful man. Not a word was said. Bodies sprinted ahead in a run, swords raised, movements calculated. A black blade arched low and missed for mere millimeters. A silver blade arched high and with a clear swat detached head from shoulder.

Perhaps it was a nervous reflex or a ghostly action, either way, before the head could slide and fall to the ground, the dark sorcerer smiled in awe for a bratty king defeated him with a single blow.

Only one was dead but two bodies hit the dirt together. By the time the dark sorcerer’s corpse fell, the king was already by his lover’s side, lifting him into his lap and nurturing the unresponsive man into his chest. Navy blue eyes stared vacantly into his very soul. Their natural glow had faded, much like the color of his skin and the warmth underneath it. The young man was nothing but an empty shell made of pale, paper skin, cold and oh so fragile.

Squeezing the corpse against his own body, feeling his heartbeat but missing his lover’s heartbeat, the king screamed. Screamed in despair and angst, in anger and pain, in fear and sadness. The hero howled like a lonely wolf left behind by his pack, until his throat failed and his lungs burned in need of air. Until there was blood in his mouth and he could not breath anymore-

••

Natsu shot out of the bed gasping for air, his hand reached for his chest, clawing at the skin, hoping to somehow tear the feeling of despair, which gripped his heart. A shin layer of cold sweat coated the expanse of his body and made pink locks sticky to his forehead. Tears welled up and spilled from green eyes like a waterfall, running down his face and creating dark spots on the white sheets.

It had been too real, it always was, but this time the level of intensity had blown the charges. This time the final was what he dread the most.

After ripping the swords out of the rock, as the months had passed the dreams had turned a constant occurrence, narrating the stories of each incarnation of the hero. They were always different but the end never changed: the dark sorcerer was defeated and the hero and his lover lived happily ever after. However, Natsu had noted something, in each reincarnation the lover grew closer to death, until it finally arrived.

It was the last dream/memory. Natsu was sure. Their confront with Zeref was only a few weeks away and the last battle had happened over one hundred years ago. If the story repeated each one hundred and fifty years, that meant there wasn’t anything more to remember.

Fear made itself present as his body trembled in dread. Did that meant Gray would die?

Natsu could still feel it, the darkness crawling under his flesh, the deep grief in which his mind was lost during the dream. A feeling so overwhelmingly obscure that brought the impression that part of his spirit had been stolen away. It was suffocating and, once more, Natsu found himself having difficulty to breathe, the air refusing to enter his lungs and making his chest heave.

He closed his eyes, desperately trying to control his body, reign in the panic building within his mind. It was pure agony the mere thought of losing his lover.

Suddenly a hand touched his back right between his shoulder blades. Natsu felt the coolness emanating from the familiar palm and immediately relaxed, for the difference in temperature, the cold against his overheated skin did wonders to calm him down. In no time, Gray had his arms around his broad shoulder, whispering assurances into his ear and caressing pink locks. Long fingers snaked between his soft hair and the feeling was soothing enough to make the king sage, stiff back curving in a tired position.

“Was that another memory?” Gray asked once Natsu’s breath evened out, brows furrowed in obvious concern, “I’m assuming it was intense.”

Natsu merely nodded, still too emotionally affected to speak without his voice breaking, and he couldn’t have that. When the king first noted the terrifying pattern on the memories, he immediately reached for Gray, not knowing what to do. His lover had looked alarmed but manage to hid it well enough for Natsu to catch on it only a few days later, but once he did, he instantaneously realized his mistake. Telling Gray he might die had being a wrong move and although there was no going back he promised himself that if in one of the memories it actually happened, he would keep his mouth shut.

And that’s why he cleared his throat rather loudly when Gray opened his mouth, just about to say something, more likely to question about the content of the dream. His lover’s pink lips remained separated even if his words had being held back. Natsu stared at them for a second, willing his body and mind to calm down before he could assure with false confidence everything was all right, when it clearly wasn’t.

“It’s okay, Gray. It was just too real and overwhelming.” To make his statement believable, Natsu grasped onto one of the arms holding him and brought it to his nose, deeply breathing in, taking in the fading smell of mint.

Gray looked unsure, suspicious at most, “Nothing out of normal?”

The words of denial tasted like acid in his mouth, but Natsu forced them through chapped lips nonetheless, try his best to keep the strain out of his voice. Gray could not discover the truth about the dream. Panic and fear weren’t the answer nor would be of too much help during the battle. One could argue, saying it would serve as a motivator to sharpen Gray’s attention, but Natsu doubted it. The raven couldn’t possibly be more focused.

“Let’s go to sleep. Tomorrow we’ll discuss war strategies and we can’t be tired.” The king stated, laying down and dragging his lover with an arm around a strong torso.

Gray settled on his wide chest, chilly hand caressing the valleys of muscles on a hard belly. Natsu treaded calloused fingers through silky, charcoal locks of messy hair, once in a while scratching blunt nails against sensitive scalp. Soon enough the warm, safe atmosphere encompassing the room lulled Gray into a sleeping state, his breathing evening out and leaving Natsu to his own rumpled emotions. His mind, a whirlwind of thoughts, wouldn’t shut down or rest until a solution had presented itself on the forefront of his brain.

Hours passed and no ideas were conceived. The darkness finally started to recede, giving way to the light of the sun and Natsu cursed mentally as he hadn’t been able to sleep. For sure, dark bags would support his eyes during the day. Gray moved around, bring a leg to rest on top of Natsu’s, who held his breath until the raven settled down again. It was comforting to hold his lover so close, feel his moving chest, the warmth emanating from pale skin, life filling his form. The young king tightened his hold just a little bit more as intense love took over his very been. He wouldn’t let his lover die. Screw fate. Natsu would protect Gray with all his strength. A dream would not define their future, because they build their own destiny.

Did you liked it?? Did I scared you?? Did you thought I had killed Gray…again??

#day 4 #natray #gratsu #medieval royalty au #gratsuAUweek #gratsuauweek #gratsuauweek2k17

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dragonasheswrites-blog · 7 years ago

Text

The Heaven We Didn’t Choose, Chapter 14: In Which Much is Explained

...And Undyne plays therapist.

First: Chapter 1: In Which a Child Makes a Friend

Previous: Chapter 13: In Which Nothing Good Lasts Forever

Next: Chapter 15: In Which Sans is Hired

Click here for the story overview.

Weeks passed in a similar manner. Though Sans didn’t breathe a word about Attie, or Frisk, or his missing phone data, he thought about them almost constantly. It seemed like Attie and Frisk took up almost as much of his life in their absence as they had when they were actually part of it.

He made sure not to walk past Frisk’s house on his way to and from the park where he sold hot dogs. It was pretty far out of his way, actually, especially on sore feet. He couldn’t even remember why he’d started using that route in the first place. It was much easier to take the straight path through the heavily monster-populated part of town, even if he could feel eyes on him.

The feeling was particularly strong one evening as he was walking home from his sentry shift. He was almost sure someone was following him, but that could’ve been a trick of his half-mad mind. Pulling double shifts on top of selling hot dogs was utterly exhausting, even though - or, perhaps, because - it had been such a boring job lately. Sure, sentries were technically supposed to keep humans out of Mount Ebott and dangerous monsters in, but few people were stupid or reckless enough to try crossing either way. Every once in a while some dumb human teenagers would dare each other to go up the mountain, but they were easily turned back. Sans hadn’t had that pleasure in...well, since long before he met Attie.

He glanced over his shoulder. His shadow didn’t duck behind the building fast enough, and he caught a glimpse. A single figure, humanoid, face covered by the hood of a jacket. Dark clothing. Short, around his height. Slender. The faint outline of a rounded chest.

...What was a lone woman doing out at night in this part of town? And tailing him, no less?

She was following him relatively closely, which was...not as annoying as Sans thought it would be. At least if someone got stupid and jumped her he’d be close enough to hear the ruckus and intervene if things got out of hand. He resolutely ignored the idea that he wouldn’t have cared before Attie came into his life.

The woman stalked him past Grillby’s, and he resisted the urge to stop in for a drink. Grillbz would report to Boss if there was enough money in it for him, and Boss was still unusually cranky. The last thing Sans wanted was a repeat of his punishment from the day Attie disappeared; that had been nearly a month ago, and he still felt a little sore when he stood for long periods of time.

Sighing to himself, Sans cut back towards his apartment building. Hopefully she’d just confront him and get it over with.

He held the door to the building open with one foot and shifted, watching the woman tense from the corner of his eye socket. “You comin’ in or what?”

She sidled along the building, a little unsteadily, and put a hand on the door. As she passed him, the yellow glow of the bare bulb in the hallway highlighted the curves of a familiar jaw and cheekbone.

“F-Frisk?”

Frisk held a finger to her lips and stepped into the hallway, letting him close the door behind her. She made a motion with her hand that took Sans a moment to decipher.

“O-oh, yeah. Uh. Sure. C’mon in.”

He lead the way up to the apartment he and Boss shared, took a deep breath, and opened the door.

“SANS! You sack of SHIT, you’re LATE!”

Sans dodged Boss’s attack on instinct, then felt his very soul stutter. Frisk had been behind him. He turned to look, but thankfully she stood…

...well, mostly unharmed. She had a scratch on her left arm from wrist to elbow, skin and a thin line of blood showing through the tear in her jacket. Considering the trajectory of Boss’s attack and the fact that she’d been caught by surprise in the narrow hallway, it was impressive.

“Kiddo, let’s-”

“Oh, Ambassador Dreamurr! I apologize. My underling-” Boss kicked Sans out of the doorway- “Neglected to tell me that we would be having such a prestigious visitor in our humble home. Are you harmed?”

Sans heard Frisk confirm that she was mostly alright. The attack had been aimed him, after all; it hadn’t been very damaging. She accepted Boss’s invitation to enter the apartment, but not his offer of dinner.

“SANS, GET OUT. The Ambassador has something to discuss with me.”

He nodded and limped towards the door. Grillby’s it was, then.

“Actually,” Frisk said, not moving from her spot in the doorway, “I need to speak with Sans for a moment.” She glanced between him and Boss, amusement evident in the slight quirk of her eyebrow; Sans could only imagine what their expressions looked like. “Alone, please, Papyrus.”

“Yes, your highness.” Boss saluted and strode back towards his bedroom, shooting a very nasty glare at Sans as he went.

Screw this up, and you’re dust, the glare said.

Sans gulped audibly. Message received.

Then they were alone.

“Do you, uh, want to sit...down?”

“Alright,” Frisk responded. She headed not towards the couch that he’d been vaguely indicating but towards the dining room table. He shrugged lightly and followed her.

They sat across from each other for a long moment, neither speaking. He wasn’t sure how to break the silence without violating Boss’s rules, so he waited for Frisk to start first.

“I owe you,” she said, finally. Her voice was low, like she didn't want Boss to overhear.

“Uh…”

“What do you want?” The question held a lot less animosity than Sans had been expecting, especially considering how completely she’d cut him out of her life.

“I…” I want to see Attie again, he yearned to say. Just for a moment. Just to make sure she’s okay, and doing her Science and Math, and eating properly; nothin’ weird. Just to say goodbye.

“Do you think Frisk wants a filthy pest like you in her daughter’s life?”

“I don’t...want anything,” he said, fiddling with his fingers.

“What? Nothing?”

“Nope. Never...uh, never did.”

And it was true. From the day he’d found Attie in the bushes outside her house he hadn’t even considered collecting payment for his actions. It showed a stunning lack of self-preservation on his part - Frisk was a powerful woman, and her favor could get him nearly anything he could ever want - but he was just...tired.

“Then, why-”

“I just didn’t want a kid to watch her mom die, okay?” He took a deep, needless breath, fighting to keep his voice down. “I don’t...I don’t know where this idea came from that I want you dead’n a ditch somewhere, but that’s...not true, okay? We...you ‘n me, we haven’t always gotten along, sure, but I don’t get along with most folks. Hell, I don’t get along with Grillbz half the time. Doesn’t mean I’m waitin’ in a back alley for him, tryin’ to extort money off ‘im whenever he’s having a bad day.”

“Okay, but you’ve done so much for us. For me.” Frisk’s hands pressed to the dingy tabletop without regard for the stains that littered its surface as she leaned towards him. “Even if you didn’t help us so you could have something to hold over my head, isn’t there something you want? I...I can talk to Papyrus about getting your shifts reduced, at least? It isn’t fair that you should have to make up time when you were helping me. It’s not like you were slacking off.”

“It’s fine. Someone’s gotta watch the old place.” And most of the other sentries had families, which was more of a consideration now than Sans wanted to admit.

“Okay, well...are you sure? Is there anything you want? Anything at all?”

A picture, he wanted to say. You and Attie, smiling. Just one - just something to remember the both of you by. Something to remind me that you aren’t just the pretty painted statue I always see on TV.

“The ambassador’s daughter is too important a secret to be entrusted to the likes of you.”

He shook the thought away. “Just...be happy, okay? And make sure the kid does her Science.” He couldn’t meet her eyes.

Weak, whispered his mind. This is why you should stay away from them. You’ll only drag them down to your level.

Frisk nodded, slowly, looking almost as lost as he felt. “I...okay, I will.”

He gestured towards her ripped sleeve. “And get your mom to patch that up, okay?”

“Alright,” she said. She fidgeted with the ragged edge, apparently not bothered by the wound. “Are...are you okay as well?”

“Fine.”

“Are you sure? It looked like Papyrus kicked you-”

“I’m fine. Really.”

Silence dragged on until it felt uncomfortable, then a few seconds past that. Frisk watched him carefully the entire time, as if trying to peek into his soul by way of his eye sockets, but he forced all emotion down, down and away from her prying eyes. There was no need for her to worry about scum like him. “Well, then. I suppose...I’d better leave you be, then. And truly, Sans, thank you."

He nodded. He didn’t think he could form words around all the things he couldn’t say.

“I’ll...see myself out. If he asks, please let Papyrus know that I’m not happy with him; he’ll understand what it means.” She stood, pushed in her chair, and was gone before Sans could think of a reason for her to stay.

He retreated to his room before Boss realized Frisk had left. Passing on a message like that would probably cause a screaming fit, and he didn’t think he could handle another screaming fit. His bones felt strangely fragile, like he was about to fall apart at any moment. And what was there to keep him together? Sans had just given up his best chance of getting everything he wanted, and he couldn’t tell if it was the right thing to do or the worst mistake of his life.

For most of the night he just sat on the edge of his mattress, face in his hands, and tried to ignore the tears that streamed down his cheekbones.

The next morning, he felt awful. He hadn’t slept much at all but managed to drag himself out of bed on sheer force of habit. The apartment seemed too quiet, just like it had every day for the past month. How long would it take for him to get used to normalcy again?

Boss was out, as usual. It abruptly occurred to Sans that he didn’t know what day it was. He’d been counting days, sure (it had been 26 days since he'd last seen Attie), and it should be possible to figure out the day of the week from that, but he didn’t think his foggy mind would stand up to that much math.

He shuffled around in various pairs of dirty pants until he found his phone, only to find that it was dead.

Great.

It took only a moment to plug it in on his way to the kitchen, but even that felt like too much work. It was surprisingly early; if he actually needed to go to his hot dog stand, he wouldn’t even have to run. He stared for a long moment at the coffee machine, debating whether it was worth the effort. On the one hand, it was even more work and he felt exhausted. On the other hand...caffeine.

Deciding that caffeine was necessary to keep him going through the day, Sans dumped water and coffee grounds into the machine and started it up.

The door to his apartment slammed open just as the final drips of coffee were disappearing into the carafe. For one terrible moment, he thought it was Boss; he nearly tripped over his own feet in an effort to get his back to the wall.

“...The hell, asshole?”

“Oh. Hey, Undyne.”

“It’s CAP...y’know what? Never mind. Where’s your brother?”

“Uh...not here?”

“Don’t eff with me. I can smell coffee.”

Sans wondered just how long Undyne had gone without sleep. She looked nearly dead on her feet. On the other hand, it was hilarious that she was still censoring her language around the apartment. “Y’do remember that I can make coffee too, right?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, right. Just didn’t think you’d bother.”

He sighed. “Sit down, I’ll get you a mug.”

She grabbed at the piping hot carafe, ignoring the potential for burns. “MUGS ARE FOR-”

“Yeah, yeah, but I want some too. Go sit down or somethin’.”

Undyne actually sat down (in a chair, no less), which said a lot about her mental state. She growled something under her breath when Sans moved the carafe, but settled down a little when he poked a mug of coffee into her field of vision. The carafe itself followed, minus the contents of his own mug.

“See,” he said, sitting across from her at the table, “We can pretend to be all civilized.”

A skeptical eyebrow begged to differ.

“So, uh, whaddaya need Boss for?”

“He’s supposed to be on patrol around town this morning and he’s not answering his phone. He always answers his phone. So, that’s worrying. Especially since there’s been an increase in weird stuff in the past few weeks, ever since...well. You remember when Frisk was attacked by that bitch in the hospital?”

Sans did remember, but he was pretty sure the real “bitch” was the one who brought down the would-be assassin, not the assassin herself. He knew better than to say that out loud, though.

“So, now that Frisk is able to perform the official interrogation we’re getting ready for the trial. There’s a weirdly vocal group of humans who think we targeted this lady for some bullshit reason. Don’t know who spread the rumors, but some of them are saying that we, I dunno, accused her at random because of her skin color?? Hah. I don’t discriminate when taking down people who threaten my besties.” She took an aggressive gulp of coffee, then refilled her mug.

“That’s weird. Do they have any proof? I mean, we caught this lady in the act. We have video evidence of what happened. ‘Ts not like we lined up a bunch’ve humans and framed the one that’d cause us the most trouble.”

“Eh, most of the human media won’t touch our footage; they say it’s fake. Lotsa folks are saying we made up the whole thing, especially since the hospital’s official stance is that it was some kinda huge accident. HAH! I’m glad we got Frisk out of that place; one of the doctors was apparently bein’ a real creep.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah. Someone was tryin’ to get the hospital to keep her locked up for ‘mental distress’ or some kind of bullshit like that. Kept tryin’ to turn away visitors, too. That’s why there was the big rush to get her out of there. Didn’t think you’d dump the kid on her right away, though.”

Sans’s head was spinning. A doctor? Was that Dr. Ray? And: “...I didn’t dump the kid, Undyne. Boss sent me out and passed off the kid before I got...uh, back.”

She stared at him. “What are you talking about?”

“We’re talking about...about Frisk’s kid, right?”

“Yeah. Attie. You know her name, I know you do.”

He fidgeted. He didn’t want to be having this conversation, especially not in his own dining room. If Boss found out…

“Hey.” Undyne leaned over. “What the hell is going on in this dingy little apartment, anyways? I get one story from Papyrus - and he’s my vice-captain; I know exactly how trustworthy he is - and I get another story from you. What’s your game?”

“...Nothing? Look. I...I like the kid, okay? Yeah, she was a little annoying at first, and I’m not convinced she won’t grow up to be a tyrant to rival Asgore, but...she kinda grew on me. I tried to do my best with her, but Boss...he got worried. He didn’t want Attie around someone like - well, like me - any longer than necessary. I’m an asshole, remember?”

“Hmm.” She finished up the last of the coffee, tilting the mug back to catch every last drop. “Y’know, Papyrus can be a manipulative bastard sometimes, but usually I can call his bullshit. This is just weird. There’s no motivation for any of it.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I texted him as soon as I heard that Frisk was released. We needed security to escort her home and all that, especially since she wasn’t in particularly good shape. He was in charge of that part. He showed up with Attie and without you, which was weird. Said you were tired of watchin’ the kid; to me, at least. Told Frisk she missed her mom too much.” She paused, rubbing her eyes. “Actually...I guess I knew something was up. Attie’s story didn’t match his, after all, but she’s scared enough of Papyrus that we figured she didn’t have the full story. Dammit.”

“I mean...it’s not a big deal?”

A forceful punch made a dent in the tabletop. “It IS a big deal, you ASSHOLE! My vice-captain lied to me! I mean, that’s normal - he’s overdue for his annual assassination attempt, after all - but I’m supposed to RECOGNIZE it! I’m LOSING my EDGE!”

Sans shuffled around the table and took the chair next to Undyne. He had the weird urge to pat her on the back, like he'd do for Attie when she was upset, but thankfully quashed it. She’d probably bite his arm off if he tried. “Hey, it was a weird situation for all of us. Boss, uh, explained things to me after; I think he was just lookin’ out for the kid. I’m really not the best caretaker, remember?”

“What did he tell you?”

“Uh, what?”

“What did he ‘explain’ to you about this?”

He thought back to his battle with Boss in the park. “He, uh, said that Attie was too important to be trusted with me. He pointed out that...well, I’m not the most reliable guy, y’know? And Frisk and I haven’t really gotten along.”

Undyne examined him through her single narrowed eye. “And yet, she snuck out of the house, past our defenses, and wound up here last night. Now, why would that be?”

She knew about that? Was it a setup? “Uh...she was sayin’ thanks? She thought she owed me somethin’.”

“IT WAS A RHETORICAL QUESTION, YOU BAG OF BONES! She came here because she DOESN’T hate your guts! She CARES ‘bout you! You impressed her! She realized that you aren’t just the lazy shitstain you pretend you are!”

“But I am…”

“SHUT UP. I’m Captain of the Royal Guard; I’ve seen your employee file. Your real file. The one without bizarre grease stains blotting out half the information.”

Sans hadn’t realized he’d missed a copy of those documents. Good to know.

“I know what you’re capable of. I know what you’ve done. Oh, and while we’re on the topic: expect Asgore to give you a call sometime this afternoon about your... other job.”

“Okay…?”

“My point is, you pass yourself off as a lazy asshole. Heck, most of the time you are a lazy asshole. But somehow, Frisk saw something different. Something she, well, doesn’t hate. She really was grateful that you, y’know, saved her freakin’ life and took care of her kid out of the blue for a couple weeks, and she was a little hurt when you didn’t contact her at all after giving Attie back. By the way, why didn’t you contact her after...well, after Attie went home? They haven’t heard from you at all, which backed up what Papyrus said, but when they tried texting you their numbers were blocked. That's just not right.”

“So, uh, Boss kinda...messed with my phone.”

“WHAT?”

“He took off Frisk’s and Attie’s numbers, all the texts, the pictures…”

“WHAT? Even the ones where we were doing training poses??”

He grabbed the carafe, started another pot of coffee, and scooted down the hallway to grab his phone. It gave him whiny messages about having a low charge, but it turned on.

“Here,” he said, sliding it in front of Undyne. “I don’t know how he blocked numbers, though.” He didn’t want to watch her look through it - the missing pictures and texts still stung - so he retreated back into the kitchen to watch the coffee finish up instead.

He didn’t have many pictures left, so he was still fiddling with the coffee machine when she shrieked in outrage. “THIS IS AWFUL! Those were GREAT poses!”

“Yeah. I sent ‘em to Frisk, y’know; she still has 'em, I bet. She’d probably send them to you if you wanted.”

“HELL YEAH! Hey, do you want them too? You took ‘em, after all. Even if he’s blocked Frisk’s number somehow, he wouldn’t dare block mine in case I need to text you for work.”

“Better not. Boss still goes through my phone sometimes; if he finds a pic of Attie he’ll be pissed.” He brought the full carafe to the table and set it in front of Undyne. She needed it more than he did, and if it kept her talking…

“Hah. Never understood why you put up with that bastard. I mean, I put up with him because he’s got a good head for strategy and he’s a natural leader and I outrank him, but he just yells at you. And beats up on you, if Frisk's right about that. That’s grounds for you to leave the family. Why stay?”

“He’s...Boss? I mean, we’ve always been that way. Him ‘n me against the world.”

She downed an entire mug of coffee in one go. “You know the world’s not like that anymore, right? There’s only so much I can do as his boss, but there are other people willing to - urgh! - help. Hell, go make puppy eyes at one of those human abuse rehab programs; they literally throw parties every time a monster shows up at their door. They’d get you set up somewhere else.”

“C’mon,” he sighed, “Does that really sound like me? Whatever you think you know about me from those files, I gave up a long time ago.”

A strange look grew across Undyne’s face. It was the same look she wore when she had defeated a particularly challenging enemy, but without the wide-toothed grin. “Attie misses you,” she said, voice carefully neutral.

Sans had no response to that.

“She told me so yesterday morning. She’s sad that you won’t call her. Thinks you don’t like her anymore.”

“Undyne, stop.”

“Hmm? Why should I? I thought it didn't matter. I thought it wasn't a big deal.”

“Look. It really is better if she just...forgets about me or somethin’. ‘Sides, Boss said I’m not allowed to even say her name. How’m I gonna-”

A fishy fist left another dent in the table. “THAT’S THE POINT! If Papyrus isn’t around, he’s not your ‘Boss’ anymore, right?? Yeah, I know it’s not normal for us to break up families, even now that we’re on the surface. And I know that he's the head of your family. But...sometimes you just gotta pick your battles, okay? Besides, I KNOW you pay the bills around here. You can move out any time you like. File for emancipation so he can’t drag you back and all that. And then maybe my besties will stop talking my gills off about how much they miss your bony ass.”

The thought of anyone missing his ‘ass’ was laughable, but he felt his skull turning colors anyways. “I...uh, well, maybe. I mean, it’s not so bad ‘round here, y’know? And like you said, we’re family and I pay the bills. Who’d take care of the ol’ place if I leave?”

“STARS, HAVE SOME SELF-RESPECT, WOULD YOU?? THERE ARE PEOPLE WHO ACTUALLY CARE ABOUT WHAT HAPPENS TO YOU!” She chugged the remainder of the coffee. “NOW I’VE GOT A CAFFEINE HIGH AND IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT! I’VE GOTTA RUN THIS OFF BEFORE MY MEETING! LET ME KNOW IF YOU SEE YOUR BASTARD OF A BROTHER!”

She slammed the door behind her, the sound echoing around in Sans’s skull. She had a point, he knew. There would be plenty of advantages to living alone. No more punishments, more free time, the ability to cook his own meals…

...missed shifts because he didn’t get out of bed on time, time lost staring into nothing, crippling loneliness…

No, he wasn’t ready to go it alone, no matter how bad things got. Boss was just...Boss. Just the same as any other monster. They were family, and that meant something to monsters. Abandoning your family meant you were the lowest class of monster, worse than froggits. Worse than dirt. If Undyne and Frisk were worried, well, maybe they had forgotten just how bad things had been in the Underground.

He owed Boss, and that debt would never be repaid.

With a heavy soul, he tied his sneakers on and made his way over to his hot dog stand.

Boss, as it turned out, had been summoned by Asgore sometime early in the morning. Undyne came down from her caffeine high long enough to text Sans about that, and to send him forceful messages in all caps warning him not to repeat anything she said while sleep-deprived. He smirked. Over the time he’d been taking care of Attie, Undyne’s attitude towards him had changed. It was strange, having the excitable and ruthless Captain of the Royal Guard as some kind of...of friend, but it wasn’t bad. He respected her, actually.

And in light of that respect, he reconsidered her words. She had said that Attie missed him. Just the thought of that tugged at his soul. It shouldn’t have, of course; he’d only known her for such a short time. And she was a little human kid. Why should he care about a little human kid?

He deliberately did not think about the kid’s mother.

Luckily, he had bigger problems to take his mind off things. Just as Undyne had predicted, Asgore called him just after Greater Dog and Lesser Dog stopped by the hot dog stand for lunch. Sans cleared his nonexistent throat, willing himself to keep calm; the King of Monsters was terrifying, even over the phone. “Uh, hello, your majesty.”

“Hello, Sans. I am calling to discuss your return to a job you have not held in quite some time.”

Fear locked his bones. “Uh, w-which job?”

“Hmm. You have held several positions, have you not? I feel that a phone conversation is not the best place to discuss this. Come to my castle in the Underground immediately.”

“Y-yes, your maj-”

The king had already hung up. Sans texted Undyne with shaking fingers, letting her know that he’d be late to his sentry shift due to a meeting with the king, then sent the same to Boss. Better safe than sorry.

He grabbed a spare ‘dog and closed down the stand. A sudden thought prompted him to glance down; he was still in his pyjamas.

Teleporting from an alley to his room saved him a lot of time and potential embarrassment. He listened closely, but everything seemed quiet; with any luck, Boss was occupied elsewhere. A sharp ding from his phone made him jump, but it was just Undyne telling him to take the first of his shifts off.

He changed into his button-down shirt and slacks, still clean from the last time he wore them, then stepped into a shortcut. He couldn’t teleport all the way to the top of Mount Ebott - even if the distance wasn’t too much, there were magical protections in place - so he went in stages. His first teleport brought him to his favorite lookout spot, just a short jog from the sentry station he handled most often.

The air was crisp and cool and the forest smelled like winter. From his lookout spot he could see the town laid out below, rows and rows of houses and hospitals and schools and businesses tied together by thin veins of black. There was a bit of activity in the streets, probably humans and monsters getting ready for Christmas (and maybe Takersfaire, if the monsters were feeling bold), but it was barely noticeable from such a distance.

A slight breeze wiggled its way between his bones as he walked towards his station. There were two barriers on Mount Ebott: one just below the sentry stations, and one closer to the entrances where the original once stood. The first - designed to alert sentries when someone approached the mountain - didn’t do anything in particular to block normal entry but he couldn’t teleport through it. It was annoying to have to stop, walk through the barrier manually, then teleport again, but it was an old routine and he managed.

The second barrier, the one that protected the Underground from most intrusions, was one of his least favorite spots in the whole world. It was almost entirely Frisk’s work. Her magic always felt hostile against his bones; no matter how many times he climbed the mountain, he was always a little afraid that her barrier would refuse him entry...or dust him outright.

It was a surprise, then, when he didn’t feel the familiar crackle of angry magic as he approached. Worry niggled at the back of his mind; had Frisk not refreshed it recently? It had been a month since she was released from the hospital; surely she’d climbed the mountain at some point...right? King Asgore still lived Underground most of the time, after all, and she loved him like a father despite everything.

The low hum of powerful human magic filtered slowly into his senses, more noticeable the closer he got. Within arm’s reach of the barrier, it was so strong that it rattled his bones a little. It felt nothing at all like he expected. He carefully held out one hand towards the barrier, and found…

Gentle. Welcoming. “Hi, Sans!”

“What the hell?” This...wasn’t normal. Actually, what had Undyne said?

“She CARES ‘bout you! You impressed her! She realized that you aren’t just the lazy shitstain you pretend you are!”

...Yeah, Frisk had refreshed the barrier, alright. He felt his entire skull turning colors. Beads of sweat began to form under his collar and his breathing picked up.

Magic, even Frisk’s weird human magic, dealt a lot with intent. When he and Frisk had been passive-aggressive enemies - and they had been as long as he could remember, exchanging japes and the occasional harsh word off and on - her intentions toward him had been wary and antagonistic. Now…

Well.

Sans crossed the barrier and stepped into a shortcut before he could think too hard.

A pool of brilliant light met him on the other side. Once upon a time this had probably been a majestic hallway, a tribute to the golden sun the monsters hadn’t seen for generations, but with so many more urgent problems and a general lack of reliable builders it had fallen into disrepair. By the time he had seen it for the first time it had been half-buried and caved in, more of an obstacle to reaching the palace than an entryway. It had only gotten worse over the years.

Now, it looked like someone was in the process of repairing the old place. Most of the rubble had been cleared out and the weak parts of the ceiling and walls had been reinforced with scaffolding. The shattered stained glass windows had been removed; lead scraps were piled in a corner, waiting to be repurposed. The artificial light sources were harsh without the scraps of color the broken windows had provided.

The world...really was changing.

“Sans?” a deep voice boomed through the hallway, shattering his reverie. “Come through to the throne room. You and I have business to discuss.”

#Dragonashes writes #Undertale #Underfell #The Heaven We Didn't Choose #Sans #Frisk #Undyne #Asgore #You can't get rid of Frisk that easily #This isn't ominous at all #How many jobs can one skeleton even have?

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