#he stole attention away from actually drawing some other characters but in my defense: he's kiiiiiiinda diff from the usual lol

[fullmetal-scar-simping]

Resistance fighter [name unknown], ily

[neqeyam]

Forgotten Myth; Chapter two.

Words- 2967

Warnings- height/falling, fighting, arguing, mentions Lee’s death

Summary-  When fourteen year old Ruby Moore is chased down the hallway at school by a character out of one of her fever dreams, she gets thrown into a world of tales and myths that society has ruled out to be fake. Befriending a Pegasus that hates everyone, and gathering friends strong enough to be considered a small army, she has to embark on a journey that will change her life forever.

POV- Ruby

Chapter One- https://rqmcuwdwpjo.tumblr.com/post/188285543834/forgotten-myth-chapter-one

Will took me around the camp, Camp Half-Blood according to his shirt. Showing me everything from a strawberry field to the infirmary. He told me stories of our dad, about how Apollo got banished to be a mortal a while ago and since he’s back being a god he now has a new sense of identity. He took me to the archery range, where I impressed him with my archery skills even though I was new. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that I took archery lessons from age six to age ten. 

By the end of the educational tour, I was exhausted. I felt like I’d just ran a million miles, but he didn’t stop there. He took me to the only building in a rectangle of twenty other oddly specific buildings that literally was glowing gold in the setting sun. Inside there were about ten bunks, all pushed to the outside edges of the building so that there was room in the middle for three cots. 

“Please tell me I don’t have to sleep in one of those.” I whined, pointing at one of the cots. Will made a face as if to say: I hope you like back problems. I almost started complaining but he laughed and placed a hand on my shoulder to keep from toppling over. 

“Those are medical cots silly. But anyways, welcome to cabin seven; where children of Apollo learn the trades of our father.” I looked around and took in the scene. Books on various topics lined the many bookshelves in between the bunks, medical supplies spilled out of bags while syringes soaked in a yellowish-brown liquid. One thing that stuck out to me the most, was the fact that everywhere I looked, some sort of archery target hung from the walls with very distinct holes in the bulls-eye. Will rummaged around under one of the bunks that looked abandoned and pulled out a box. When he opened it, a faint light filtered out as if they’d trapped it in there. 

“This was Lee Fletcher’s bow. If you want it, it’s all yours,” Will said, sadness drifting through his voice. I was tempted to ask what happened to Lee, but something about Will’s posture and aura told me that I’d better just accept the bow. 

“It looks perfect, thank you,” he handed me the bow, and I had to admit; it was perfect. The nocking point seemed to be in a direct line to my shoulder, the bow string wasn’t too taut, I felt like this bow had been crafted just for me. As I was holding it, I realized that the bow itself was actually glowing; not blindingly, just enough for me to see a faint halo of light outlining the bow. 

Once Will had enough of reminiscing about Lee’s bow, we went back outside. A horn blew in the distance, scaring me so badly I screamed and hid behind Will (Not my best moment I’ll admit). 

“That’s the dinner horn, nothing to be afraid of-” he said, a dark figure appeared out of seemingly nowhere cut him off. 

“eccoti, ti ho cercato dappertutto,” the dark haired kid said. 

“Nico, for the last time, I don’t speak fluent Italian.” 

“Ciao, chi sei,” they all turned to me as if I just grew another head. Though the black haired kid looked more grateful than confused. 

“Puoi parlare italiano?” the black haired kid -who Will called Nico- asked. 

“no, perché dovrei?” I asked. Will’s face flushed red, but he looked rather pissed. 

“Would you two stop that! Ruby you’re speaking Italian!” He yelled, taking both of us by surprise. I looked down at my hands as if they’d give me answers; but no avail. I was thinking in another language too, symbols rather than english letters were flying around my head. I realized the same symbols were almost everywhere around camp, telling me where to go. For a moment, I completely forgot english and my whole sense of identity blurred. Will set a hand on my shoulder, drawing my attention from my hands. 

“pós boró na milíso angliká?” I asked frantically. Nico handed me the book he was reading, thankfully it was in english and the other two languages seemed to go back to their hiding places. My mind went back to thinking in my first language; I handed the book back to Nico and huffed, “Thank you,” he nodded and started up the hill.

Dinner was cool, I could order whatever I wanted and however much I wanted. My plate just seemed to refill itself, the Greeks really knew how to eat. Mr. D (Will told me his real name is Dionysus, the wine dude) stood and banged a knife against his goblet of diet coke. When he had everyone’s attention, he turned to Chiron. (yes, the Chiron from the ancient times.) 

“You all know what today is, the first Friday of the month. Which means-” he was cut off by the Ares table pounding their silverware on the table, chanting CTF; whatever that meant. The rest of the cabins joined in their chants till it was just a rumble of voices and an earthquake of silverware pounding. A stocky girl with dirty blonde, almost brown hair stood up and thrust her spear into the air. 

“We’re on her team this month. If we win, I get the Apollo chariot back that she stole from us while Michael Yew was our senior counselor.” Will spat, he didn’t sound happy about being on her team. 

“Then I guess we have to win.” I stated. I’ve always been competitive, and now I finally know how I’m so good at basketball. Will grinned at me, his eyes alight with an emotion I couldn’t place. 

After dinner, and after Chiron was finally able to explain the rules; Will led cabin seven through the hoard of people and into the woods. Everyone seemed to know their place, some went up into trees, scaling them like squirrels. Others turned invisible and the only hint that they were still there was a rustling in the bushes. Will led me to a pile of rocks that looked like a thumb, a blood red flag shone brightly in the setting sun. he scaled a tree next to the pile of rocks, something told me to do the same. I climbed a tree with surprising ease a few yards away from the flag so I’d have a clear view of who was coming through. Two kids that wore the same mischievous grins that Ayla defaulted to walked through the clearing. Behind them, enough teenagers to be considered a small army without the multitude of weapons came walking into the clearing. The girl, who Will told me was Clarrise, barked orders at people. 

“You excited?” someone asked behind me. My instincts pulled an arrow out and notched it all while turning around. I was met with a smug smile that I was so used to. Then I checked my pockets. 

“More nervous than anything, your dad is Hermes isn’t it.” I asked Ayla. It hadn’t occurred to me that she looked exactly like him -based on a description from a book I found- She nodded and perched in the tree next to me. I looked over to where Will was perched to see him lazily going in and out of being visible. He flickered sometimes, like he got stuck halfway through his change. 

“You and I are gonna charge the flag. According to Connor, they’ve got the entirety of Demeter’s children on guard duty, with Hecate’s scattered throughout the woods.” I nodded along with her, we’d need a plan to get through Hecate’s children’s magic. A bunch of grease covered kids walked into the clearing, -probably Hephaestus’s kids- and Ayla let out an audible sigh. I followed her gaze to a semi scrawny kid who would not stop moving -his dark curly hair and tanned skin gave him away as hispanic- talking to an equally dark skinned girl.

Clarrise held a thumbs up to the sky and then a few moments later a horn sounded. Our ranks bolted into the woods, and the Hephaestus kids started waving Wii remotes around really quickly. 

Yells and screams erupted from the woods, and a few kids watched everything through a shield looking thing. The first wave of kids were all blonde except for the black haired kid from earlier (Will told me that he’s the son of Poseidon, Perry Jackson, or something like that). Ayla drew her daggers and charged from her spot in the tree. Will and I rained arrows down on whoever got too close to the flag (Although, most of my arrows missed). A water spout rocketed toward me, but I jumped and fired one of the rope arrows into another tree, swinging across the battlefield kicking anyone that got too close. Light beams burned kids slightly when they started their assault on the flag. We were being overrun by kids. Another kid with blond hair came running through the mess and I thought it might be Will, but then I started to feel sleepy. 

“It’s Clovis’s magic!” someone yelled. I took a closer look at the blond haired kid and I realized that he was sleeping. Our defenses were dropping like flies, snores started the echo through the woods. They seemed to be protecting him, drawing a crescent moon around him. Next to me Ayla sleepily fluttered down onto the branch and closed her eyes, a good sized rock almost fell out of her hand. I knew what she wanted me to do. 

“C’mon Apollo, gimme one luck shot,” I murmured and wound up. The rock left my hand at an upward angle, then arced down; smacking Clovis right in the temple, he fell like a load of bricks. Some of his defenses tried to wake him up but he didn’t. Our defense team woke up one by one, recharged and ready to go they fought harder than before. 

My vision blurred and I saw a figure running for our flag, but I couldn’t see her. I sensed her. When my vision returned I saw someone grabbing at our flag, it rose and started down the hill. Almost all of the offensive troops had retreated. 

“Team Ares!” I yelled, gathering everyone's attention. “Stop our flag,” they followed my finger and watched as Annabeth emerged from nothing and set down the flag. A wave the size of a small house flung half our troops out of the way, then the dark haired kid (Perry? Percy? One of the two  I can’t remember what Will said) started fighting his way through the mess of kids. Ayla grabbed my hand and the next thing I knew we were zooming through the woods at top speed. She smacked into an invisible shield of some sort and crumpled to the ground with a groan. A few snickers from the other side brought my attention to a bunch of Demeter and Hecate children. Clarrise growled a few feet away from me and stabbed at the shield, getting thrown back. Ayla and I exchanged glances, something told me she wanted to go up. So we did. 

The shield was definitely not as strong on the top as it was near the bottom. The only problem was that we were suspended fifty feet up in the air by some jello. Ayla pried a hole in the top and I shot four arrows down. Unbeknownst to me, they were all sonic arrows. Each arrow sounded like it was on eight amplifiers and a surround sound speaker. Good news, it was enough to blast out the shield and disoriant their first line of defenses; bad news, Ayla and I were now falling fifty feet to our deaths. Someone caught me, I was met with brown eyes that screamed anger. He set me down and kept running, as Ayla lowered herself down next to me. Together, the three of us ran at the Aphrodite children. I stayed back a little bit and shot anyone out of the trees, while the rest of our offense fought against Aphrodite, Nemesis and what was left of Demeter. 

“Ayla! I have a plan!” I yelled, before I even had a P-L-A. She came running and I told her about what I saw Will doing and how he briefly explained it to me. Another kid came with her, however; it was the brown eyed Ares kid that caught me. 

“You’re going to need a brute for that,” he grumbled, trying harder than necessary to sound mean. I didn’t have time to argue so I just grabbed their arms and ran, praying to Apollo that this worked. 

The fact that no one tried to stop us told me that it worked. We ran and dodged roots that were constantly growing. When we came to a clearing where a stream ran through, I slowed down. In front of us stood their flag, and a multitude of traps. Ayla groaned at the sight of the traps but I told her to just fly over everything. A blond kid that looked to be about my age paced in front of the first trap, folding over a knife in his hand. He grumbled about something, we didn’t stick around long enough to hear what he was saying. Ayla flew us over everything, groaning and complaining everytime one of us moved the wrong way. The brown eyed kid, -who refused to tell me his name- grabbed the flag and bolted for Ayla and I. An alarm sounded in the trees and two more cabins came running into the clearing. 

“Great, now what,” brown eyed boy grumbled. I hadn’t thought this far but I had the beginnings of something that would either be super cool, or the biggest failure in the history of camp. I pulled out my last arrow, it was a rope arrow. Thank Apollo, I thought. Without saying a word I shot it at an angle at Ayla; the arrow wrapped itself around her waist, almost pulling her out of the sky. Brown eyed kid seemed to be following my train of thought because he ran towards the closest kids near us and grabbed their shields. He threw one at me and stuffed the other under his foot. I stopped the shield with my foot, and gripped my bow better. 

“AYLA, FLY!” I screamed and she took off. The brown eyed kid grabbed onto the rope with his other hand and held the flag under his arm. 

We sped through the woods on shields, Ayla was going so fast that almost nothing could touch us. I’m sure we looked like a more badass version of the Three Stooges. She started laughing maniacally over the wind and we jumped a hill. Annabeth and the black haired kid (I’m pretty sure his name is Percy) were running back with our flag, thankfully they hadn’t made it back to their side yet. They ducked under us and gawked. Cheers erupted from the tree line where Ayla’s half brothers and sisters were gathering along with the Hephaestus kids. We were almost across when a wave knocked Ayla out of the sky, she hit the ground like a ton of bricks. 

“Connor! Go long!” he yelled and threw the flag like a spear. One of Ayla’s brothers broke off from the crowd and flew to meet the flag, pulling it over the line; the crowd cheered and lifted him up on their shoulders. With Ayla’s momentum and no one to steer, brown eyed kid and I rammed right into a tree. He turned around right before we hit and grabbed me, his back smacked into the tree hard, and my head smacked into his armor. We both crumpled to the ground, groaning. Will was already working on Ayla who had hit her head on a rock. A few of my other siblings ran over to brown eyed kid and I, healing us with no problem. I stood up and stuck out my hand to help him up, he took it gingerly. 

“That was quite the plan, Ruby,” he said and took off his helmet. For a moment I was overtaken with confusion but then I realized who he was. 

“You- you told Mrs. Johansson that I FAKED A PASS!” I yelled, poking a finger at his chest. Jackson Ryans stuck his hands in the air in surrender, though the grin on his face told me he was just getting started. 

“It was all part of the plan.”

“What plan?!” I demanded, only now realizing that he was a solid three inches taller than me. 

“To get you here of course, we needed an actual reason to get you here or else you wouldn’t believe us and someone kept telling the monsters off your scent,” he explained as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. That didn’t help the fact that I got a detention out of it and was benched for two basketball games. 

“He’s right, we did need a reason and Jackson volunteered to tattle on you,” Chiron said as he helped Ayla up off the ground. She brushed herself off quickly and thanked Will, who went to work on the others that were lying around groaning. 

“I was benched for two games because of him!” 

“Yeah, sorry about that one. That definitely wasn’t part of the plan,” Jackson said, scratching the back of his neck, still grinning. I wanted to smack him but Ayla led me away before I could, throwing me into a celebration that resulted in me, Ayla, Connor and Jackson on various peoples shoulders. Ayla and Connor start playing chicken, with two of the stockier Hephaestus kids. Slowly I realized that I was on an Ares kids shoulders, he was taking me toward their chicken game. Ayla punched me in the arm and Connor shoved my shoulder. 

“Hey! No tag teaming!” I laughed, shoving them back. Jackson came over and shoved them with me, together we pushed Ayla off the Hephaestus kids shoulders and then went to work on Connor. He gave up and flew off the kids shoulders. Jackson held his arms out for a hug, I was reluctant but it’s kinda hard to dismiss a hug that you’re forced into. Jackson’s brother moved so that he could pull me into him. 

“Okay okay, I forgive you… I guess,” I said so he’d let go of me. Did I actually forgive him? Not really; but something told me I’d have to or else this camp would be absolute hell.

[trpg-dingusmaster]

8 days after zombie day.

Played werewolf apocalypse at the lfgs tonight!

One of the characters was given a vision of the future (several months ago irl and in game) and the vision was soaked in blood and laden with rot and despair. The dead would walk and the Wyrm would dance. There wasn’t much time. He loaded his truck with supplies and his terrified and confused siblings and stole away into the woods to hide.

Eventually, and with some help from a very conserned group his senses returned and he explained what happened and what was going to happen. Luckily another characters estranged father was a doomsday prepper who was delighted to allow this group of strangers help finish his compound if it meant reconnecting with his child.

Once finished, and now with the extra help, the compound would be able to satisfy the needs of 300-500 people. Working as much as possible on this while still trying to not draw too much unwanted attention to the endeavor about 45% of the compound was completed before the outbreak began.

I missed a lot of this campaign but my pc was dm controlled npc as needed so I missed a lot of the background but my character missed nothing. that’s essentially what happened in my absence and the opening of today’s session. Most of today’s session was figuring out who and what was needed and what priority these things were. And how realistic we wanted to be with all of it, which was extremely realistic I guess, which was fine and everyone seemed to enjoy that discussion a lot but I was very unprepared for it so mostly tried to stay quiet except now and then I did need clearification because I’m out of date with the subjects that came up for doomsday preparation.

the first 1-3 days were spent gathering the last of the supplies there was room for and the tools needed to continue work and quietly as possible bringing friends, family, and trusted colleagues to the compound. Days 4-6 finding familiar people in the community who would be good to have around or not picked up in the first 3 days some of these at the request of the npc dad character who had a list ready as part of his doomsday preparations.

By day 7 the population of the compound was about 120-150, the minimum required to continue run the compound, keep watch, and continue actually building on it without much difficulty.

Day 7 was also the day we decided to break the news to the compound dwellers that zombies were not the only other strange thing running around. That a good number of those present are werewolves, and... a troll, and also a fae. That outside were other werewolves and vampires and numerous other things. Some could be trusted, others not so much. I gave a “Puberty and Your Changing Body” type speech and the fae gave a demonstration of shape shifting, then an educational slide show was presented to help explain the situation without causing much fuss in the audience thanks to some good rolls.

Also the compound leadership was decided.

A LONG time was spent on that. A super long time. And i feel like it didn’t need to take that long? Because we were essentially all in agreement but nobody seemed to notice? this kinda thing happens a lot and I have some ideas on that but I digress,

It ended up being if I understood:

My pc I charge of medical shit, an npc in charge of daily operations, an npc in charge of base defense, a pc in charge of and leading away missions.

Day 8 arrives we discuss were to go and search for survivors, supplies, tools, livestock?, extra weapons because apparently some got confiscated in an earlier session? etc we pick up a radio distress call from a police station in the nearest township. I misunderstood the discussion slightly and suggested we just kill everyone in the building.

“Your a child of Gaia and a doctor dammit not a get of fenris and a murderer!”

“Oh yeah... uh I you know? I maintain the statement. Wren has a big problem with the police apparently,?because I wasn’t paying attention. Also, you don’t know me or my life stop looking at me like that.”

“... fine, but nevertheless we’re not murdering whoever is in that building.”

“That’s fine. I don’t really care what we do as long as we decide and do something.”

And so we did. We headed out to the police station driving some sort of Catipillar? I’m not sure exactly what kind of vehicle the description could have been any of several construction type devices, but would probably have been used in construction of the compound so we had access to whatever it was. Unfortunately the noise drew in zombies from all over and to get to the station instead of 30 zombies scattered around there were 47 coming right for us as soon as we exited the vehicle.

We are nearly defeated almost instantly because of overwhelming numbers and bad rolls. Also I didn’t know what stats do what or how combat worked when I built my character so.... that was an issue.

Luckily the troll npc helped my character get to safety and the other heavily injured pc was right by the CAT so he just went back inside. That’s where we ended the session.

when we meet again I can heal myself and go back and I’m pretty sure I can heal the other two after that? I’ll have to reread those bits of the manual. In between I’m going to use that xp that’s been building up to adjust my sheet. Or try to, I’ll probably have the dm look it over because I feel like it’s written pretty clear but something about it just isn’t clicking?

Somewhere in there, while the internet/phones service was still running we received a mass email/text from our friends in the Glass Walker community informing us that werewolves are for sure immune to zombie infection but not sure about the other supernatural creatures yet.

And I’m pretty sure the other two players either changed characters entirely or changed big details about them but I’m not sure why they’d have done this? And I didn’t bother to ask. It didn’t effect anything really? It was just odd and I noticed.

Also: apparently the Black Spiral Dancers use normal social media. I’m not sure why I thought they wouldn’t? But? I still thought that was a great weird detail to add. Like? I wanna know how many followers a dancer has on instagram?? How often do their accounts get taken down? Do they prefer reddit or 4chan???

[not-a-space-alien]

Your Own Side Outtake #1:  The Siege of the Library

Rating: G

Series masterpost

On AO3

Aziraphale and Crowley hopped on a plane over to Abraxas’s home turf as soon as they got the message from her.

Abraxas and Paula met them at the airport.  “Thank goodness you’re here!” said Paula, giving them each a kiss on the cheek. “And thanks for coming so quickly. Abraxas and I are in a bit over our heads, here.”

“Where are we headed?” said Crowley.  “What are we dealing with, here?”

“Someone has stolen the public library.”

Their group of four—five if you counted Mittens—lay on the building opposite the public library, lying flat to the roof to avoid notice so they could observe.

The building had been covered with anti-demon sigils, laid so heavily and so thickly that you would only be able to get in if you had a key of some sort.  The inside, visible through the windows, was in disarray: the tables and chairs of the reading nooks and kid’s sections had been overturned and pushed to the side to make more room. And every square inch of the place—floor, counters, desks, every imaginable nook and cranny, to the point where there didn’t appear any room to move about inside—was covered in books.

Crowley whistled. “Lotta books.”

“Well, it is a library,” said Aziraphale.

Crowley looked like he wanted to smack Aziraphale.  “You know what I mean!  So what’s going on?”

“Well,” said Paula, “we sensed demonic activity and headed over to check it out, only to see someone had pushed all the humans out of their library and locked themselves in! We’ve been trying to drive them out, but we can’t make any progress.  It looks like they only come out to get more books and bring them back here.”

“Did you get a good look at whoever it was?”

Abraxas shook her head. “I did see something huge, with a lion’s body and eagle wings.”

Crowley tapped his fingers. “That doesn’t sound like any demon I know.  It couldn’t be Anzû, could it?”

Abraxas shook her head. “No, definitely not him.  It looked like a griffin, in all honesty.”

“A griffin?” said Crowley. “A griffin took control of the library?”

Aziraphale peered over the roof.  “Where are they now?  There doesn’t appear to be any activity inside.”

As if to answer him, his ears prickled to a faint scream, getting gradually louder and louder.

Mittens hissed.  All four turned as one to the sky, where something with a bulky body and broad wings was diving towards them.  And on its back was a demoness, completely naked, screaming her head off, and with a stack of books under one arm, the other around the creature’s neck holding on for dear life.

The creature flew so low its claws threatened to scrape them, and they dived out of the way as it came in.

Abraxas resumed her spot, eyes sparkling. “Oh, that’s definitely a griffin.”

The screaming died as the griffin touched down, flicking its tail and trotting to the library entrance. The demon removed itself from its back, then began to jump around excitedly, doing cartwheels and hooting and yelling That was awesome!

“Oh no,” groaned Crowley. “Isn’t that…her?  Aziraphale?”

“Her?”

“That demon we helped. Yulera.”

Aziraphale’s face went stormy.  “I’m not giving her back the Key of Solomon, if that’s what she’s after.”

Crowley watched as Yulera swiped her hand in a complex pattern on the door, and the sigils pulled to the side to allow her entry.  The griffin pattered in behind her like an obedient dog.

“Wait a minute, you took the Key of Solomon off her,” said Crowley. “And I’m positive some random public library isn’t going to have a copy of it.  How did she manage to pull off such complex spell work with no reference material?  Unless she memorized the damn thing somehow.”

“Hardly likely,” said Aziraphale.  He squinted and watched through the window as Yulera distributed her new acquisitions among the piles and piles surrounding her.  His suspicions about there being no path on the floor were confirmed when he saw Yulera move about by scuttling across the ceiling like a lizard.  “All right, regardless of the fact that we helped her in the past, we can’t let this continue.  Come on, Paula.  It looks like the defenses mostly bar demons.  You and I should be able to get past them.”

“Abraxas and I can stand by the door,” said Crowley.

“Jolly good.”

A few minutes later and Aziraphale was wading through a mess a thousand times worse than even the worst state he had let his shop fall into.  He desperately tried to move the books out of the way to avoid stepping on them, but it was simply impractical.

“Yulera!” said Aziraphale. “Where are you?  I need to talk to you!”

“Who’s there?” echoed a manic voice through the library.  “How did you get in?”

“It’s me, Aziraphale! Do you remember me?”

There was a sound of a stack of books falling over.  The griffin appeared on top of one of the shelves, perching with its claws out, eyeing him up like a hawk on a rabbit.

“Er,” said Aziraphale. “We just want to talk!  Would you come out, please!”

One of the ceiling tiles shifted, and Yulera dropped from the ceiling, landing in a pile of books and disappearing under the resulting avalanche.

“Are you all right?” said Paula.

“You can’t have any of my books!” Yulera yelled, struggling out of the pile.  “If that’s what you’re here for, you can forget it!”

“We’re not trying to take your books,” Paula said.

“They’re not yours,” said Aziraphale. “You stole them.”

Yulera blinked at him. “What do you mean?  I stole them, so that makes them mine.”

“Oh, dear,” said Aziraphale, rubbing his temples.  “All right, maybe we shouldn’t have let you go off without teaching you a little bit about how Earth works first.”

“Yulera,” said Paula gently. “How many books do you really need?  Have you read all of these?”

Yulera gathered the nearest pile of books in her arms, like a kid set loose in a candy store.  “I need all of them!”

“Ah, that’s not to say it’s immoral to sit on a large collection of books you rarely use,” said Aziraphale, backpedaling.  “It’s just that...  You see, er…these books are supposed to be for sharing.  The humans use this place to read.”

“And now I’m using it!” said Yulera.  “And my griffin friend is too!”

The griffin flicked its tail.

“There are so many,” said Yulera.  “I’m not even a tenth of the way through all the books on Earth, I’m sure of it.  But I’ll get them all.  I’ve already moved my collection from Hell up here.”

Paula spluttered. “You’re trying to collect every book on Earth?”

“What’s to stop me?” Yulera said.  “I can do anything I put my mind to!”

“Is this what you did in Hell?  Just steal every book you could get your hands on?”

“Yes, and it’s working just fine for me up here too!”

“Look, obviously nobody told you!” said Aziraphale. “But things work a bit differently up here than in Hell!”

“Like how?”

“Well, you’re supposed to wear clothes, for one!”

“You people and your clothes!  Maltha made me wear clothes, too, and that was the only thing I hated about the first layer!”  

“And you’re not supposed to cause such a huge scene and draw attention to yourself!”

“Well, why not?”

“Because you’re just not!” said Aziraphale.

“She’s a demon!” Crowley yelled from the entrance.  “That’s not going to work on her!”

“I’m not giving them back,” said Yulera.  “This is where I live now.  Now get out!”

“The griffin!” Abraxas yelled to them.  “Ask how she got it to hang about around her!”

“That’s a good question,” said Paula.  “How did you get a griffin to hang about around you?”

“For your information!” Yulera yelled, chucking a book at Paula. Paula dodged.  “Griffins acknowledge individuals based on their wisdom—”

Aziraphale ducked out of the way as a volume of poetry flew at his head.

“Moral character—”

Both angels took cover as a barrage of atlases and dictionaries came at them.

“And whether or not one conducts themselves with dignity and grace!”

“Ask her if she thinks she’s conducting herself with grace right now!” said Abraxas’s voice.

“Shut up!” Yulera said.  

“It’s true,” said Aziraphale.  “This is supposed to be a place of respite and learning.  And you’ve turned it into a chaotic mess.  That’s not very dignified.”

Yulera looked at him with wide eyes.  “That’s not true!”

“You have to share these books.  You can’t just take them.”

“I’ve already taken them! They’re mine!  I’m not sharing with anyone!  I don’t care who it hurts!”

The griffin snorted, and Yulera looked over to see it eyeing her very disapprovingly.

“I—I—”

The griffin turned its nose up at her and trotted away to exit.

“Wait!” Yulera wailed, letting the volumes in her hand fall to the ground. “Wait, don’t go!”

The griffin paused with one paw on an open windowsill.

Yulera looked like she was hyperventilating.  “All right. You don’t like someone who’s greedy. Is that it?”

The griffin was impassive.

“All right!” Yulera said wretchedly.  “All right, I won’t be greedy!  I’ll share!” She fell to the ground, rolling dramatically.  “Even if it means I don’t get to own any books!”

“Yulera,” said Paula, exasperated.  “We’re not saying you can’t own any books.  You just can’t go around stealing them from people and bullying humans for them.”

“What?” said Yulera. “What other way of getting books is there besides stealing them?”

Paula smacked her forehead.

“Come on,” said Aziraphale. “Let’s clean up this mess, and I’ll show you.”

They collected what books actually belonged to Yulera from out of the chaos and packed them up in a crate before beginning their work.  Crowley insisted he and Abraxas couldn’t help because of the anti-demon sigils even after the sigils had been removed.  Aziraphale was having none of it, and he coerced the two demons into coming in to help sort through which books belonged to the library and which had been brought in from elsewhere.

They interrogated Yulera as to where the outside books had come from, and eventually found out that she had been raiding nearby bookstores at night on the assumption that they were personal collections held by high-ranking humans.  She had also been snatching them out of the hands of human passersby.  There was a college campus nearby, so that might explain the high proportion of textbooks among the lot.

The four of them looked at the huge volume of volumes, feeling despair sink in.  Yulera wrung her hands. The griffin did not seem to care either way.

“This is going to take days to sort through, even with miracles,” said Abraxas.  “We’ll never get them all back to their proper owners.”

“But we have to,” said Paula.

“Or we could just…” said Crowley.  “…not.”

“But then who will?” said Aziraphale.

Crowley shrugged. “Does it matter as long as it’s not us?”

The four friends looked at each other, then back at the books.  Then slowly, as one, they backed away, then ran out the front door, leaving a big mess for whatever unfortunate humans got stuck with the responsibility.

The bell on Aziraphale’s bookshop door tinkled as they entered.  Yulera’s bare feet pattered on the wood floor as she scuttled in, looking enraptured.

“These are all yours?” said Yulera.

“Yup,” said Aziraphale.

“And you didn’t steal them?”

“No.”

Crowley began, “Well, he might have stolen one here and th—”

Aziraphale cut him off by elbowing him sharply.  “Not a one. I bought them, found them, commissioned them, copied them, or wrote them myself.”

“That’s so cool,” said Yulera, eyes sparkling.  “And you don’t have to share them?”

Aziraphale cleared his throat.  “Well, only if someone wakes up early enough to make it in before I close at nine.”

“Can I do this?” said Yulera, tail wiggling in excitement.  “Can I run a bookshop?”

“I noticed the real estate across the street from here is open,” said Paula, rubbing her chin.  “Is there any reason why we couldn’t help her set up there?  It’d keep her out of trouble.”

Aziraphale was immediately conflicted.  On one hand, having a second bookshop across the street meant there was a danger more book-lovers would consider this street a destination to stop by when shopping. On the other hand, having a second bookshop across the street meant he could point customers to go check there when they asked for a book that he had, but did not want to part with.

He couldn’t say no to Yulera’s face.  “All right, I’ll help you,” said Aziraphale, then rushed on before she started celebrating, “But only if you put some clothes on!  You can’t run a shop when you’re indecent like that!”

Yulera crossed her arms sourly.

“You’re a succubus, aren’t you?” said Crowley.

“…Maybe,” said Yulera.

“Demons of lust don’t usually wear clothes, Aziraphale.”

“Well, bookshop owners do, I assure you!” said Aziraphale.  “This isn’t negotiable!”

Yulera, of course, did not know the first thing about running a business.  Well, neither had Aziraphale when he started, and he hadn’t let that stop him.

Crowley managed to secure the building with a few phone calls, one of which escalated into him intimidating a realtor in person.  But he walked out with the keys.

The next step was making Yulera presentable. She had to change her shape first, which was more difficult than anticipated.  At first they thought Yulera struggled to control her form the same way Mykas had, but in the end it turned out she was perfectly in control of her shape and simply hadn’t wanted to.  She seem distressed by the fact that her tail was gone, but Crowley assured her it was still there and she could bring it back whenever she wanted.

They got her some clothes next.  Aziraphale muttered about his pocket book, while Crowley impatiently reminded him both demons had offered to simply miracle her some threads instead of buying them at the department store, and that Aziraphale had turned them down.

Aziraphale roped Abraxas and Paula into staying to help, since this had started as their problem. They agreed since they didn’t want to go back home just yet and see the state of the public library.

“There we are,” said Paula, examining the inside of the building.  “This is nice.  Plenty of room.”

“I don’t like the windows,” said Yulera, sounding very unhappy.  She ruffled the lace on the skirt she had picked out.  “Anyone walking by can just see right in.”

“That’s the point of shop fronts,” said Abraxas.

“But what if they come inside?” Yulera cried.

Abraxas dragged her hands down her face.

“Look,” said Crowley. “You’re used to living in a cave where you could hide out.  This is going to be a bit different.  It’s all right, I assure you.  The only ones going to come inside are humans, and you can handle them.”

“No I can’t!”

“You handled the queen of Hell!”

Yulera sulked.  “But what am I supposed to do with humans?  They’re just going to come in and stare at me?”

“Hey!” said Abraxas, snapping her fingers.  “You said you liked working in the kitchen in the first circle, right?”

Yulera nodded vigorously.

“You can use this counter here as a diner.  You can have a little combination café-bookstore.”

“That’s a wonderful idea!” said Aziraphale, because if the bookstore across the street from his was obviously, visibly nicer, it meant no human in their right mind would want to come to his instead.

They acquired some furniture, starting with bookshelves of course.  While they were helping Yulera unpack her collection, Aziraphale took a peeling leather-bound volume out of the crate and stared at it.

“This bestiary,” he said, gasping.  “Where did you get it from?”

“I stole it from Duke Andras.”

Aziraphale flipped it open, knees weakening.  “Oh my…I’ve…I’ve never seen a copy of this before…They’re so rare…”

Crowley heard the tone in his voice and raised the alarm.  “All right, angel, that belongs to her.  You can’t take it.”

“I’ll trade you for it,” said Aziraphale, salivating.

“No!” said Yulera, leaping forwards and ripping it out of his hands.  “Absolutely not!”

“It has the original charcoal illustrations!” said Aziraphale.

“No!” said Yulera, backing up, clutching it.

“I’ll give you any book from my collection for it!”

“You can’t have it!”

Aziraphale fled across the street to his shop and came back with a comparable volume.  “Here!  The Key of Solomon that you wanted to badly!  I’ll give it back to you, if you give me the bestiary.”

Yulera’s face reddened, clearly very conflicted.

“Come on, angel,” said Crowley.  “Be fair. Her collection is smaller than yours.”

“No!” said Yulera.  “I don’t need that anymore!  I won’t trade this for anything.”

Yulera bustled about snatching her more precious volumes off the shelves, out of Aziraphale’s sight. He watched her cart them off regretfully, imagining what other treasures she might have stored that were out of his reach.

This whole venture turned out to be a dreadful mistake for Aziraphale.  He helped Yulera locate some sources of books that wouldn’t get her in trouble, and cut the ribbon with her for her grand opening.  The next day, he woke up to see that Yulera had boarded the windows up and laced the outside of her building with sigils to make it as fortified as the library had been.  And the griffin was lounging on the roof like a gargoyle, guarding it.

This was going to be a long headache for him.

[iced-blood]

I don't want to make exuse for the mind crush of Yami in the manga, but in the same time...Kaiba has literally pushed all his buttons. Kaiba is gone a lot too far in the manga. Even if it excuse nothing of course.

Okay. Look. Apologies ahead of time, Anon, but this has been a long time coming. I am not angry. I am tired. This will cover more than you’ve addressed.

I keep telling people that I don’t work with the Yu-Gi-Oh! manga’s canon. I keep telling people that I work with Duel Monsters canon. Every post I make, barring very few exceptions, is marked with the “duel monsters” tag to reflect this. Those exceptions are tagged “manga” or “season zero,” depending on which variant of canon I happen to be using.

I am very, very clear and consistent about this.

But people keep asking me about the manga, anyway. Apparently it isn’t clear by my rampant avoidance of manga continuity in my fanfiction — which is where you will find the vast majority of my engagement with this series and fandom — that I hate it. Well. I do. I hate the Yu-Gi-Oh! manga. I understand, embrace, and adore what it represents. And you will never hear a bad word about Mister Takahashi’s artwork from me. He’s a wonderful artist and I am in absolute awe of him for that. But the actual product of Yu-Gi-Oh! — in terms of storytelling, character interpretation, character growth, and consistency of its own rules — infuriates me.

A lot of people prefer the manga. It may even be safe to say that a majority of Yu-Gi-Oh! fans prefer the manga. And I’m sure there are any number of things about the Duel Monsters anime that infuriates them. The animation quality, perhaps. Or the watering down of various plot elements. The sidelining and borderline ruination of Katsuya Jonouchi’s character. All versions of this story have flaws and, for many, I’m sure the anime’s flaws outweigh the manga’s.

That is their prerogative. You will note, I hope, that I leave such fans to their business. My opinion on their preferred canon is not useful to them, so I don’t go out of my way to give it. I would have hoped for the same courtesy in return.

Anon, you were polite in your approach, which is more than I can say for others who’ve confronted me about this topic. With this in mind, I will endeavor to explain why I take issue with the argument you present here, as well as why I don’t like this line of discussion. That may not be what you were looking for in a response, but it’s what I have, and it’s what I will offer.

A note: just because I don’t like the Yu-Gi-Oh! manga doesn’t mean I haven’t read it. I will be using Chapters 1, 9, 10, 24, 25, 27, 39, and 40 to explain my position here. So if anyone reading this hasn’t read the manga, but intends to, keep this in mind before clicking the Keep Reading link. Understand that this is going to be long, it is going to be critical, and I am not open to debate. I have been approached, in my space, and this is going to be my final word on everything I have been avoiding since I started this blog.

If that interests you, then read on. If it doesn’t, then let us part ways here. No harm done. I wish you the best.

Now, then. Let us begin.

The Case Against Inconsistency: Katsuya Jonouchi

Like any story, Yu-Gi-Oh! has various themes that define it. Whether outright stated or just implied throughout, they exist. And one of the things we learn, throughout the story of Yugi, Atem, and their various friends, acquaintances, and antagonists, is this: how people conduct themselves determines their success.

It’s a classic Good VS Evil paradigm, and it’s one that a lot of us are familiar with. How does it play out? Well, in theory, what this should mean is that people who conduct themselves fairly, with honor and integrity, prevail. And people who conduct themselves poorly, with deceit and bitterness, will not. I think that a fair amount of fans of Yu-Gi-Oh! will agree with this idea.

Good people succeed. Bad people fail.

Yu-Gi-Oh! uses its duels like another anime would use a fight scene. When Naruto — or Goku, or Ichigo, or Kenshin, or whichever shonen action hero you fancy — comes up against a new opponent, we expect him to win. Why? Because he’s the hero. He’s the Good Guy™. And that’s how this is supposed to go, right? The hero is supposed to win because if the hero loses, that isn’t fair.

The world isn’t fair, people say. And that’s true. This is why we look to fiction. Or, at least, it’s why I look to fiction. In fiction, the world can be fair. And in a fair world, the good folks win. So that’s what we want to see. We want to see the hero struggle, sure. We want the fight to be hard-won. But we still want it to be won.

In this story’s case, we have Yugi Mutou. He’s our hero. And when we’re introduced to him, we’re given a clear indication of why we’re supposed to root for him.

When Our Hero™ is confronted by Katsuya Jonouchi here, right in the first chapter, it’s clear who’s supposed to be sympathetic. Jonouchi is a bully. Taking Yugi’s things away from him and goading him to fight for them. For a story that sets itself up in a high school, this is pretty standard. This is Episode 1 territory. And Yugi, bless him, sets himself up quickly as the good guy. He hates fighting. He hates violence. And those are traits we, as people living in a “proper and civilized” world, should admire.

Hiroto Honda doesn’t come off looking much better. But notice here that, even though Jonouchi and Honda are both antagonizing Yugi, he’s not exactly condemning them. Maybe it’s a defense mechanism. Maybe he’s just scared of getting a rise out of them, because they’re set up as bullies and Yugi is set up as a favored victim. But regardless of why he acts the way he does, I think it’s a pretty safe bet that a lot of people reading this story are going to relate to Yugi, in this moment, before they relate to the other two.

Then, we’re introduced to the second sympathetic character in this opening scene. Anzu Mazaki is quickly established as (1) Yugi’s friend and (2) someone that Jonouchi and Honda are afraid of. This is (tangentially) important to note.

If Yugi has someone willing and ready to protect him, and that someone has the edge over his bullies, then is he honestly afraid of them? Maybe he isn’t. Maybe that’s the point. He doesn’t like dealing with Jonouchi and Honda at this moment, but this presented a question in my head: does he fear them? Are they enemies to him?

Given what happens later on in this chapter, the answer to the former is kind of up in the air, but the answer to the latter is most likely no.

But anyway. A bit later on, we reach the first major point to which I want to draw specific attention. The first major moment that is relevant to why I have take issue with the idea that “Kaiba has literally pushed all his buttons.”

Jonouchi, still angry that things didn’t go his way in the intro scene, has opted to steal a piece of the Millennium Puzzle — which we all know is an immensely important part of this story’s mythology — so that Yugi will never be able to complete it, even if he gets it most of the way there.

The puzzle represents Yugi’s only real goal this early on: he wants friends. He’s heard from his grandfather that the Millennium Puzzle grants wishes, and his wish is for friends. What I mean to point out is that Jonouchi’s behavior here is an immense violation of Yugi’s privacy, and a serious blow against Jonouchi’s integrity. I’ve been robbed before. It’s an absolute travesty, and I have extremely limited sympathy for people who would steal like this. Taking food from a store because you’re starving? I know that’s a classic tactic and maybe it’s a cliché at this point in the game, but still. I’m probably not going to judge anyone for that. Desperate calls and all.

But stealing someone’s most prized possession because you’re sulking? That’s … pretty black-and-white awful in my book.

Some of you might be wondering why I’m going into this much detail about plot elements that occur before Seto even shows up. Others might be wondering how I can say that Jonouchi isn’t worthy of sympathy for what he’s done here, considering what Seto does later on. Well. I’ll get to that.

But for now, consider these points from the remainder of the introduction: Yugi defends Jonouchi and Honda, getting himself beaten up in the process. It’s thus established that these two boys — who are implied to have been bullying Yugi for at least a little while now — are Yugi’s friends. In spite of what we see in the beginning, and in spite of how Jonouchi in particular acts during his introduction, Yugi considers the both of them friends.

The Case Against Inconsistency: Seto Kaiba

Now, then. What about Seto Kaiba, you might be wondering?

When he’s introduced in Chapter 9, there really isn’t much to be said about Seto, other than there’s something off about him. And he really, really wants Sugoroku Mutou’s Blue-Eyes White Dragon.

I want to draw your attention to the first moment when we really sense what’s being set up with Seto’s first chapter.

When Seto can’t trade for, or buy, Sugoroku’s card … he decides to steal it. Now. Generally speaking, we would be expected to understand that this is an Objectively Bad Thing™, right? Of course it is. There is no excuse for this kind of behavior. I just covered this.

But recall the specifics: Yugi’s been stolen from before. Does he know that? No. Yugi never figures out that it was Jonouchi who stole that pivotal piece of the Millennium Puzzle. Not directly. But the point I’m making here is: we know it was Jonouchi. We, as the audience, know what happened to the last person who robbed Yugi.

… Absolutely nothing.

This is what I mean when I say that the manga is … weird about enforcing its own rules. Seto Kaiba is set up as a villain for doing the exact same thing Yugi’s own best friend did in the first chapter. Now, let’s look at the other part of Seto’s introductory equation, which occurs when Yugi confronts him about having stolen his grandfather’s prized card.

Seto gets irritated that Yugi won’t let this whole thing go, and clocks him across the face. Now. Seto is not shown in a sympathetic light here. I’m not trying to claim that he is. My point with these scenes — aside from transparency — is simply one of consistency.

Aside from the fact that Seto is rich and Jonouchi is not, there is effectively zero difference between them right now … unless you want to count the chronological order of their respective sins. Jonouchi antagonized Yugi, then stole something important to him. Seto stole something important to Yugi, then antagonized him.

Unless you want to get pedantic, in other words, Katsuya Jonouchi and Seto Kaiba are — textually speaking — the same person. The same obstacle. And given what happened to Jonouchi at the end of his chapter … shouldn’t we expect Seto to get off relatively lightly, too? Isn’t that what we know about Yugi Mutou? That he’s a forgiving soul? That’s what I took from the first chapter.

But what happens?

Well, of course, at this point in the story, we’ve been introduced to The Other Yugi™. Atem, as he will come to be known, the spirit trapped inside the Millennium Puzzle, who comes out and possesses Yugi’s body to extract vengeance — or justice, depending on your point of view — on people who trespass against him. We know very little of what Atem is honestly about during this section, though. We don’t even know his name, or have a nickname for him yet.

What we do know is that Atem plays games to make his points. Games which reflect the nature of the players’ souls. Games which exalt the righteous, and condemn the guilty. So what does this other Yugi do? He challenges good old Kaiba-kun to a game of cards.

There are a few important points to make about this duel. I’m not going to be giving a play-by-play. Instead, we’ll go over the highlights. First: when Seto realizes that he’s losing the duel, and can’t defeat the spirit, he decides to cheat.

And because this is a Shadow Game, or a Dark Game … a magic game, in other words, Seto is punished. But instead of just disqualifying him and ending the duel, which is what would actually happen if someone cheated like this … it goes on.

That’s … that is not part of the rules. Nowhere in the initial buildup to this match did Atem specify that Seto’s cards had to have his “heart” in them. And nowhere in the rules of this game does it say that a monster’s attack can be negated by pontificating at it.

Again. This was not established in the beginning of the duel. The rules do not state that a monster that doesn’t belong to the user will be destroyed. Atem did not make this clear when they sat down to play. This is plot armor. Or, rather, a plot weapon. Again, Seto is being punished for cheating. Of course. I cede this point.

But Atem directly benefits from these breaches of the rules. So, by continuing the duel and ultimately winning, he is also cheating. You can’t just decide something like this. Atem did not create this game. He does not have the authority to unilaterally declare how alterations to the rules are decided.

“Well, that guy cheated, so I’m going to cheat, too. And it’s okay when I do it, because he did it first.”

Are we in grade school? That’s the argument being presented, and it doesn’t matter. The duel is canceled and you start over. That is how you handle this. You don’t just arbitrarily alter the rules while the game is ongoing.

But even if you do … you certainly don’t do this when the game is over.

Seto Kaiba is forced, magically, into a literal psychotic break. He is forced through his own death at the hands of the monsters that died throughout the game. Atem claims that Seto shouldn’t worry, because “it’s only one night’s worth of nightmares … an illusion!”

That? Right there? That is horrifying.

Seto cheated at a game of cards. He didn’t commit murder. Is cheating acceptable behavior? No. But the punishment does not fit the crime. Atem condemned a child to his own hallucinatory execution. A child who, you may recall, we later find out grew up in a criminally abusive household, and has just escaped it.

Anon, you acknowledged that Atem is not to be excused, so this next part is not directed at you, but at everyone else who likes to act like Seto Kaiba should be hanged for what he did throughout the manga, but “oh, Atem’s growth is so wonderful and inspiring!”

The above example of other fans’ behavior is facetious and exaggerated and should not be taken seriously. But regardless of how I might view this whole paradigm, it doesn’t change the facts: either they both have crimes to answer for, or they both have redemption arcs worth celebrating.

I do not care what you think about Seto Kaiba. I do not care if you like him. I do not care if you hate him.  I do not care if you like or hate Atem. I do not care about Death T. I do not care about how long Atem spent trapped in the Millennium Puzzle. I do not care that Atem sacrificed his life for his country. I do not care that Atem died as a teenager. I do not care how much he eventually grows as a person. I do not care that Seto started this. I do not care that Seto cheated. I do not care that Seto lied. I do not care about any of that.

THIS IS OBJECTIVELY DISGUSTING.

Don’t tell me why you think Seto deserved it. Don’t excuse this. Don’t ignore this. Don’t you dare come into my space and tell me this is irrelevant. I will never let this slide. Seto Kaiba is a child, and he just got what little emotional equilibrium he had, after having survived Gozaburo Kaiba, shattered because he cheated at a game of cards.

Recall, if you please, my previous point.

Katsuya Jonouchi stole from Yugi Mutou, and antagonized him.

Seto Kaiba stole from Yugi Mutou, and antagonized him.

One got a best friend out of it.

One got tortured.

That is not acceptable, and it is not justice.

The Case Against Inconsistency: Mokuba Kaiba

Are we done? No. No, we are not.

There are fewer points to make in this section, so it will be shorter, but there are still important notes to take into account before we move on to the main event.

I always say: you don’t get one Kaiba without the other.

In Chapter 24, we’re introduced to Seto’s little brother.

Baaaan.

Mokuba is portrayed, initially, just as unsympathetically as Seto is. Like his brother, this kid presents a threat. A pretty substantial one, if those weapons are real. And given the early manga’s penchant for wanton violence, they probably are. For a story about children’s games, there’s a lot of … not-so-child-friendly elements to the opening chapters.

Naturally, given that this is a series about games, there have to be stakes. And Mokuba is very quick to establish what those stakes are.

And Atem is equally quick to accept them. Now, look. Obviously brandishing CEWs, assault weapons, and butterfly knives at people are entirely unacceptable actions to take, but these aren’t even teenagers we’re dealing with. Atem is a bit too gleeful for my tastes here, considering he just promised to torture a 10-year-old boy.

These are grade-schoolers.

Grade-schoolers who, aside from Mokuba, are obviously unnerved (and possibly frightened) by the spirit of the Puzzle. Now, I’m not saying it would have been smart on Yugi’s part to deny these kids whatever they wanted. But this is why you have a cursed pendant with a ghost inside it to help you out.

But, perhaps it isn’t fair to say that Yugi’s new vengeful friend should have worked harder to dissolve the situation. Maybe that’s not the right argument to make. After all, Mokuba started it. And who knows what he might do if he’s denied?!

Well. Considering what happens when Atem wins this game … I don’t think he really avoided any potential consequences by going along with what his attackers wanted.

See, you say that, Atem, but I don’t believe you when you say that Mokuba isn’t your enemy. You’ve treated him the same way as you have every other enemy you’ve come across in this story. The only net positive we can say here is that Mokuba doesn’t die.

Now. What’s my point with bringing this one up? Well, one, I don’t think the 10-year-old kid should have been forced into a confined space. What if he’s claustrophobic? What if his father used to lock him in his bedroom? What if, what if, what if. Atem doesn’t know anything about this boy except that he’s lashing out on his brother’s behalf.

And two: when you play with fire …

Obscenely rich, angry, chronically abused fire …

You get this.

The Case Against Inconsistency: Mind Crush

When the chapter that opens up the oh-so-infamous Death T starts, we get treated to two bits of information that are … extremely important to all of this. We are first reminded of what Atem forced Seto through, at the end of their first duel.

And then we are shown that Atem was wrong about his own consequences. He said, and I quote:

“It’s only one night’s worth of nightmares.”

Remember that? And yet, we see that Seto has had that nightmare at least twice. Time is nebulous in the manga, so it’s difficult to figure out how often he’s had this nightmare, but that isn’t important. He’s had it multiple times.

This is a problem, because our hero said it would happen once.

But it didn’t happen once.

Why is this such a big deal to me? Because when your hero’s entire problem with an antagonist is how dishonest he is, you cannot afford to be dishonest yourself. But here, Atem is shown to have been either ignorant of his own abilities, which is reckless, or outright lying.

Which is hypocritical.

My point is not that Seto Kaiba is blameless. It is not that I want people to stop paying attention to his faults. My point in all of this is that Death T — to which Anon is referring — did not happen in a vacuum, and Atem was partially responsible for it. Death T was not constructed to beat Yugi Mutou in a game. It was, and is, not a sign of Seto’s unhealthy obsession with victory.

Death T was a direct result of two things: Gozaburo Kaiba, and the “Experience of Death” penalty game.

Seto says nothing about losing. He says nothing about being beaten. His whole motive for Death T is to stop “that nightmare.” What does this mean? That if he had not had that nightmare, he would not have that motive. Would he have done something else? Maybe. Probably, even. But we’re not talking about possibilities. We’re talking about what happened.

And what happened is: Seto cheated at a game, was punished by a hallucination, had nightmares about that hallucination, and figured out a plan to stop them. Would Death T have worked? No. Is it acceptable behavior? No. Am I saying Seto Kaiba should be absolved for what he put the main cast through? No.

I am saying that it wasn’t just Seto Kaiba who was responsible for this.

There was also Gozaburo Kaiba, who tortured his adopted son to mold him into the heir that he wanted.

And Atem, who tortured his classmate to mold him into the opponent that he wanted.

You aren’t going to find many people willing to give Gozaburo Kaiba the benefit of the doubt. He’s pegged pretty constantly for the villain he is. Seto is also held accountable for the horrible things that he did. Death T was, and is, an atrocity. But Atem’s hands are not clean. He directly antagonized an unstable teenager with PTSD, one with the resources, the conviction, and the warped sense of right and wrong (courtesy of his aforementioned abusive father) to push right back.

Was it right? No. Was it fair? No. Was it acceptable? No.

So why talk about it?

Because when you say things like “Kaiba has literally pushed all his buttons,” you absolve Atem of what he did.

Atem tortured, and killed, several people in the name of justice.

The Kaibas were just the first of his victims to fight back.

Seto Kaiba pushed Atem too far? Fine.

Atem pushed him too far, too.

And only one of them ever gets taken to task for it.

If it makes me the Devil’s Advocate to focus on that, and harp on it, and get angry about it … so be it. I’m used to being the voice of dissent. And just so you all understand: I don’t like the way Seto is portrayed in the manga. I hate it. I hate him. That’s why I don’t deal with him. That’s why the anime is my focus. That’s why I don’t talk about the manga. I don’t like Seto, I don’t like Atem, I don’t like Honda, I don’t like Otogi, I don’t like Pegasus, I don’t like the Ishtars.

I don’t … like … the manga.

But, that being said.

No matter what he did.

No matter how far he went.

This is not heroic.

This is not worth celebrating.

This is not my Yu-Gi-Oh!

And I’m done talking about it.