you know who i miss? :mrgreen: . he was one of the early emojis (before we even called them that... they were just smileys...) who was everywhere... he was the same as the smiling face but a beautiful emerald hue. what happened to him. why did modern technology take him from us. the internet we crouch and cower inside now is but a shadow of the civilization we once had.
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himh I'll make a Dark Urge that's so fucking scared
big scary bloodsoaked killer, tearing through armies with her literal bare hands? nah. a quiet, scared girl who doesn't understand why she does what she does, why she can do what she can, but is, at the same time, deeply disgusted by herself because she has just enough self-awareness to know to be repulsed.
maybe it's because I'm a tiny bit obsessed with clinging to the thought that people, at the end of the day, are fundamentally good, no matter what. that there is a fundamental human goodness in all people that makes them worthy of redemption, or at least of the opportunity for atonement.
maybe the way I want to play a story like that is with someone who, stripped from indoctrination and free for the first time to think for herself and embrace and be who she is, finds that in the deepest, most hidden pits of her soul, she is not the strong, kind, resilient person she might want to be. try as the might, she is not someone who can bear the weight of her own past, she's just a... a terrified, broken little girl, cowering in the shadows and unable to look herself in the eye. (which also gives me ideas for her relationship with Orin but that's a little bit beside the point)
cathartic self-insert who. therapy? what is that. is it on Steam or Epic.
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Prince Poo? :0
HECK YEAH BABY, let's go! Um, I mean, of course!
This boy got done kind of dirty by both the plot and the fandom. He is severely underutilized in both departments, so I vow to give him the attention he clearly deserved.
First of all, incredibly obvious comparisons to Aang aside, can you imagine the misery of being nothing more than a child once you get to the bottom of it, but being raised for a very intent purpose? He is literally surrounded by teachers constantly and passing NPCs in Dalaam repeatably note how he doesn't seem to have time for anything else.
This is basically all he does. Train. Be trained. And like his caretakers KNOW he has some kind of destiny, they literally tell him this before being sent off to Summers!
What I think is that Poo has little to no free will of his own when you combine that with being a prince, which obviously adds in even more rules in how he's raised. He has to be conditioned from the start to be a prince AND The Chosen One (tm), which is a lot of pressure on a kid that is what? 14? 15? Not to mention the fact that his parents are never seen. Are they even real? Oh well, question for another day.
To me, going off with the rest of the Chosen Four was his first taste of freedom. Basically ever.
He clearly didn't know how to handle it, still being extremely formal upon first meeting Ness. I mean, introducing himself with "I am the servant of Ness. I will obey Ness". Goodness gracious, this is not how you talk to other kids!
And yet, he clearly has a goofy side. It's subtle, but his growth is shown by drifting away from acting like that. It's when at the very end, when all is said and done. He bids farewell like this:
"Our travels together end here. I must return to Dalaam, and use this experience for the good of my country.
Ness,
Paula,
Jeff...
Let me demonstrate a strange power before I go. I realized this power as a child. PSI Farewell! Now!
I'll see you again someday!"
(btw i love this dialogue... part of the reason why i just transcribed it)
See, he tells a joke! It's probably just PSI Teleport Beta, but he tells a joke! He's got exclamation marks! He warmed up over time, and I think that's so... cool...
I think what happened over time was this. Ness HATED being seen and referred to as 'master'. Kid lacks a single bone in his body to take advantage of the situation. And he was worried for Poo acting that way. After weeks and weeks of telling him to stop, he gradually does.
And along the way, Poo learns what he wants. Who he is. Not by what was chosen for him, but for who he is inside.
He really couldn't have done it without the other three and the journey along the way. And for them, he'll be eternally grateful going back with a greater sense of identity.
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It’s no secret that Warden Gaeric is not keen on outsiders.
Communities as sheltered as the Hisuian clans tend to produce two types of people, after all - those who long for openings on the world, suffocated by monotony, and those who want nothing but to preserve the frail jewel of their heritage by hiding it from outside threats. Gaeric belongs to the latter, or at the very least has been taught to think as such: he can see the improvements contact between people can bring, but he fears the sound of the vastness he doesn’t know might drown out the voice of his native dialect.
Nobody batted an eye when he did not trust the Freak Of The Mountain when he was first brought to the settlement.
It’s also no secret that Warden Gaeric broadened his shoulders and chest so that it could better hold his heart, and no surprise at all that he did not hesitate to jump into the ice cave where the Alpha Froslass had near frozen the poor thing to death for her Snorunts to feed upon, his Glalie almost snapping her in half with his jaws as he rushed the delirious man to his home.
By the time the Freak was all warmed up, full of Aspear berries, and no longer at risk of losing his life, the warden had given himself no choice but to grow fond of him. Maybe in part helped by how the foreigner had curled around him in his fever, calling out for his uncle almost in tears.
Gaeric had even insisted he be allowed to keep his old clothes once he was welcomed as part of the Clan; although he too had been piqued by the man’s stubborn opposition at the request of getting rid of them, he understood the comfort they could bring him as mementos - reminders of a place, a home, somewhere and someone to belong in even when the memory of it all failed to reach him, like the unsteady whistling of a melody from childhood.
It’s no secret that Ingo - Warden Ingo, now - thinks very positively of Gaeric, too.
For saving his life, certainly, for understanding his melancholy - but for simpler reasons too, like being polite, and being quite the wrestling partner, and returning his greetings every time they meet. It sounds a bit silly that he would count something like that on almost the same grounds of nursing him back to health, but he is instistent that even such seemingly unimportant things are part of what he appreciates about the other warden.
Then again, he’s a loud, peculiar man; so it’s quite normal that he thinks in strange ways.
It’s not that well-known, however, that yesterday Gaeric pulled Ingo to the back of his hut by the hand, and pressed his lips to his cheek with a smile, muttering something sweet while holding his fingers. And it’s not that well-known that Ingo held his gaze down and buried his stoic face between his hat and the collar of his coat, as if he were as red as a Magby, and murmured something back.
And if somebody did see that (and if the two were to find out that they were seen they would be so very awfully embarassed) - well, they know whoever the wardens kiss is not their business, and they shouldn’t tell.
At least, not to Irida.
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