#he’s a dorky idealist at his heart after all

[adrift-in-thyme]

Roy and Ed have the best mentor - mentee relationship. Discuss.

THEY DO

Roy after thirty minutes discussing a plan: Ed did you listen to a word I said

Ed: yeah totally. I especially liked the part where you suggested we go get some sandwhiches. I heartily agree

Roy: *internal screaming*

[inbarfink]

Okay, so, like, does Penny being attracted to Billy from the get-go and developing feelings for him as she’s falling out-of-love with Captain Hammer (which I think is the clear implications within DHAB and partly confirmed by other canonical sources)

kinda defangs a lot of important criticism to be had about Billy’s character? Like his shallow obsession with Penny before he even got to know her, and his entitled sense of jealousy and just generally the way he treats her and, the, y’know, stalking? Yeah, it does.

But also���

I can kinda see the logic where it can be used as just a different form of Billy-criticism in itself. Like, okay, so, Billy’s thing is that he seeks Supervillain Solutions to Mundane Problems. 

That’s the whole thing with his Idealist Villain With a Good Cause shtick. He wants to make the world a better place, but he views regular, mundane forms of activism as inherently ineffective and ineffectual. What he’s trying to do is maybe more extreme, but it’s really what he must do for the good of the world.

But the longer he goes on, and slips farther and farther into supervillainy, it becomes clearer that… There's also quite a lot of self-interest involved as well. That this whole ‘better world’ thing might just be an excuse to lash out against the world and vent out his resentment and entitlement and ego and misanthropy. And he doesn’t really have a clear vision as to how he’d actually run the world better, he just wants to be in charge and ruin what came before him.

The problem isn’t actually that Penny’s methodology is ineffectual, Dr. Horrible just convinced himself that it's ineffectual because wants the excuse to do what he would want to do anyways, take over the world. He doesn’t want to do the grueling, unglamorous and thankless job that Penny does, that will actually make the world better. He wants power and glory. 

And he has the exact same “Supervillain Solutions to Mundane Problems” thing when it comes to his crush on Penny. Right from the get-go! Can’t find the right words to talk to the pretty girl in the Laundromat? Just create a time-stopping Freeze Ray to give you the extra time!

And after Penny falls for Captain Hammer, Billy’s methods for ‘wooing’ turn more and more… sinister.

He stalks her

and then uses the information he gets from that stalking to get on her good side

And then he decides to kill her boyfriend

And show off to Penny what a totally cool and evil and alpha villain he is

Oh, and the idea of taking over the world keeps coming up as something that will also win Penny’s heart somehow.

But this is all wholly unnecessary. Penny already thinks he’s attractive, and she likes Billy’s dorky awkward charm. He stumbles on his words when they meet up in the street, but the conversation goes fine until he blows her off. There was never any need for a Freeze Ray, all he needed was to gather up the courage to talk to her a little earlier and he and Penny would have probably hit it off just fine! There was no need for the Freeze Ray, except that Billy finds it easier to create a new Ray Gun than gather up the courage to talk to the pretty girl. So he convinced himself that he needed it.

And, like, he learns she likes Frozen Yogurt from his stalking and he gets her some and then it becomes a Thing with them

But like… that wasn’t necessary either. She’s actually the one who initiated conversation with him before he even had a chance to pull out the FroYo. He didn’t need it for this conversation to happen, because Penny likes him and wants to talk with him. But… He convinced himself that it's easier for him to watch her from the shadows than to just talk to her like a real person. And he convinced himself that he had to talk to her as part of an Evil Scheme rather than to just be a Regular Guy talking to a Pretty Girl.

And he keeps willfully ignoring the fact that Penny likes him, likes Billy. Keeps clinging to that idea he needs power and status and control to win her heart even after he sees that Captain Hammer seduced her by pretending to be sweet … he doesn’t quite seem to process that this is what attracts Penny’s romantic attention and not evil and world domination.

And again, it’s because he doesn’t want to do the mundane solution - he wants to take over the world and unleash all of his resentment and hatred and he wants to kill Captain Hammer. His crush on Penny is just an excuse, as highlighted by the fact he keeps ignoring the more mundane and more moral and sensible ways of making connections with her. Ignoring how she fell in love with Captain Hammer specifically because she thought he was sweet and he (pretended to) have an interest in her passions. Ignoring how Penny was growing to like Billy - the part of him that’s kinda awkward and emotionally earnest . 

Because just like he doesn’t want to go through the often grueling social work that’s required to make a better world and so he convinced himself that it's ineffectual, he doesn't want to be emotionally sincere and vulnerable and normal around Penny. 

And he’d rather convince himself that Penny is attracted to power and confidence and thus would love him if he could just become the evil, in-control Dr. Horrible he aspires to be. Because Penny is just an excuse here, he’s the one who wants to be powerful and evil and in-control. He ignores the fact she likes Billy because he doesn’t want to be Billy, that part of himself that’s shy and vulnerable and mundane. 

At least, he doesn’t think he wants to be Billy.

[oddlovergirl]

Friendly Reminders About Your Favorite Team Bucciarati/Buccellati Members

I decided to do an immediate sequel to this post a few days ago, with the bucci gang this time around.

Giorno Giovanna

Giorno is a kind-hearted soul who wanted to take over the mafia so he can reform it to make Italy a better place without drugs. However, he has his father DIO's brutality, so if you ever harm/killan innocent civilian, prepared to be MUDA'd to next Friday with no mercy.

Bruno Bucciarati/Buccellati

Bucciarati is indeed a sweet, humble guy (if rather strict at what he does). However, he has happened to have grown up too quickly, joining Passione at the tender age of 12 to protect his injured father. Not to mention that there are times where he's a little eccentric (like when Trish asked him what she is supposed to do if she needs to go to the toilet, he responds by using Sticky Fingers' power to create a makeshift toilet). There's also the fact that his initial behavior as a chatty but sly and violent gangster is shown to be an act, and he would later put on the act again with the two airport security guards at the beginning of the Notorious B.I.G. arc in the original manga, I shit you not.

Leone Abbacchio

Alright, Abbacchio did start off disliking Giorno (likely because the boy reminds him too much of his past idealistic self), but after the Man in the Mirror fight, Abbacchio slowly started to trust him (not that he would admit it, and it's a rather slow process). In the beginning of the Clash & Talking Head arc, when Giorno suspects that the food may be poisoned, Abbacchio decided to test that theory out on a bystander they initally thought was an assassin and had beaten up. He even left behind an important clue that only Giorno's Gold Experience can solve.

Guido Mista

Mista is a goofy, easy-going fellow with tetrophobia and a habit of getting bullets reflected back at him, but he's still a capable marksman otherwise and won't hesitate to get violent. It's also telling that he is rather perverted (and as compared to what fanon might tell you, he ain't so slick that he can't even get a date), but he is still a good person at heartt, as shown in his backstory when he jumped to rescue a woman from a sexual assailant without hesitation.

Narancia Ghirga

Narancia is indeed an adorably dorky and childlike sweetie pie (though he can be an immature little shit sometimes), but don't think he's a frail flower. In fact, he's an anti-heroic Psychopathic Teenchild who WILL either take out his knife to threaten and/or shank you or summon Aerosmith to fill you full of bullet holes if you ever piss him off. Oh, and while he may be Book Dumb, he makes up for that by having a lot of street smarts and being a tactical genius.

Pannacotta Fugo

Fugo may have problems controlling his very ill temper, but for about 98% of the time, he's a sincere sweetheart who is very cautious and genuinely wanted to control his temper. Not to mention that he's still just a sixteen-year old boy for f**k's sake! Even if he were to get on the boat with the gang, I believe that Abbacchio, Narancia, and Bucciarati will STILL die by the end of the storyline. Sorry folks.

All in all, they're quite a humane, heroic gang of mafiosi who refuse to let innocents get in the crossfire and are rightfully shocked whenever someone endangers civilians, but at the same time, they're still hardened gangsters who won't hesitate to kill you in a rather brutal fashion if you're the enemy and are willing to commit theft and destruction of property if that's neccessary to get the job done.

Thank you and have a pleasant evening :)

[thattimdrakeguy]

I liked Alan Grant’s work with Tim (specifically Batman 457, it’s still one of my favourite Tim stories) but yeah Dixon’s early stories (especially his 1st miniseries) were some of the best Tim writing. Lewis had a few good Tim moments, mostly with his relationships with Dana and Steph, but I felt like Lewis preferred Steph’s character over his, since she had a lot of focus in his run. I can’t remember much of Willingham’s run (also according to him, Tim kept journals of his time as Robin? 1/2

I can’t remember the journals appearing beforehand) I felt like Beechon made Tim more angry than he’d normally be, but he was a relief after the last 2 writers. His stories (evil Cass who?) were decent. Brandon Thomas wrote one issue (167) and it was a bit angsty, but not too overbearing and it had a hopeful ending (Jack wasn’t a good dad tho). Dixon’s second run was disappointing (I think he called Ives Martin?). Fab Nic’s was a mess. Yost was not bad, but his Tim could be OOC at times 2/2+

+ I wish Yost stayed on as Red Robin’s main writer tho. Bringing back Cass, RR 16 (I think(?) where Anarky tries to find out RR’s ID) and the Teen Titans crossover were the only positive things about Nic’s run. Funny how TT!Tim was more broody than solo!Tim and RR!RR is more broody than TT!RR. I knew Tim as RR first, so reading backwards, his earlier stuff were definitely more well written. It’s why I love your blog, since early Tim is the best Tim and your analysis is spot on +

I think Alan Grant’s work is very undervalued, because alongside Marv Wolfman and Chuck Dixon, he’s another writer that brought us a fully fleshed out Tim Drake during his first year of existence. He helped bring us a lot of good Tim moments too, and honestly some of his better ones from his pre-Robin days as well, and after he was Robin too of course.

Dixon in his early work did amazing work and taking all that we learned about Tim and putting his character to the test in so many fun and interesting stories. At least until his decline where he comes off as too self-obsessed and became known as the jerkface we think of today, cause with the internet coming in--he's more bigoted views came out. And makes some hindsight stuff even more obvious.

John Lewis though I don’t honestly like. The most I can say for him is that he had good Tim moments where he understood Tim’s dorky nature, but overall he wrote him to be a pretentious, judgmental, boy genius, that just seemed so off the mark for the meek-ish, insecure, but super clever, and slowly forming confidence Tim that we saw just before. He made Tim kind of a jerk, like all of Tim’s worst moments, but except if Tim was always like that and not just in the moment when he’s having a difficult time or put on the spot. So I really can’t like his run because of that. His stuff with Steph too, was just really forced, and simply continued all the forced stuff Dixon did with her. Lewis besides some good moments has a lot of the worst stuff Dixon did with the romances, plus his own weirdness and lack of understanding.

Late Lewis and Willingham though, is were you really get the sense that editorial (namely Didio as this was when he gained more power in the company. And the storyline where Batman put Tim through a test that gave him paranoia came from) wanted to make Tim tougher, and edgier, because he was too soft before. He had “war journals” even though I don’t believe Tim ever spoke about having any, nor thought in a way that would have him calling them “war journals” suit him. They made him more conventionally cool, and rebellious (this was also happening in Teen Titans at the time). He had a motorcycle over a mildly dorky, tiny sized car (like pretty much only Tim can fit in the Redbird comfortably). He was becoming more Batman-esque, and there was angst about how that was happening. It was just all about changing Tim into something he’s not simply because people with power didn’t like him as he was.

Beechon I think did really good though with Tim, because he wrote Tim after Tim’s months of having people he loved die. So I think being angrier made sense. Although I remember it being more frustration and desperation. But he also wrote him in a way that showed an idealistic spirit in him, and a heart that pushed on that kept it feeling like Tim. It felt like Tim dealing with his loses, much more than Geoff Johns’s over the top melodrama. Evil Cass though--can’t deny that’s Beechon, ain’t gonna, but at least he attempted to make it up by writing a Batgirl mini too mixed reception.

Dixon’s second run really showed just how bad Dixon got. Like you’d think a break might have him get his head back into it. But it was all just about bringing Steph back and shoving her in, because he became borderline obsessed with his OC like that. He just wrote things with no regard to how other things were. Wrote Zoe, who was a very sweet, but awkward, understanding, independent, and unsure kind of girl, exactly how he wrote Ariana, just a romantic plot device to be frustrated at Tim to give Tim boy-angst, instead of like she’s a real person with her own issues like how Zoe actually was. COULDN’T EVEN REMEMBER SEBASTIAN IVE’S NAME. And sometimes wrote Tim more like he was in the mind zone of writing Dick versus actual Tim. It was a trainwreck that at one point I loved cause of rose tinted glasses, but now, it’s entirely obvious how far he had fallen. Everything going sour towards the end of his original run times 10. Awful stuff.

FabNic though. I just really don’t like FabNic’s run. He made Tim a cold, caluclating, somewhat apathetic-ish (not fully, but in ways), angsty, edge lord. He didn’t resemble Tim to me. But sort of represented the final position of Johns’s and Didio’s, and others transformation of Tim into something not recongnizable through contrived deaths and situations, that wouldn’t have happened under writers who could write a competent story.

Yost was okay though, but still pretty mixed for me. I recognized Tim more in him, but there’s still a lot of moments where it just didn’t feel like Tim at all. Like I can’t picture Tim punching Damian in the face, I can’t picture Dick just giving away Robin when he knows more about Tim than anyone, and I can’t picture Damian just acting like a stereotypical bratty kid, he’s a total jerk, but not how he wrote it, he just wrote a random kid, not Damian. But there’s more moments of genuine Tim-ness then there was with FabNic. I’m not an honest fan of Yost’s run, but comparatively, it was superior. And while a lot of his writing for it was awful in spots, his story was at least one that was interesting and worth reading just for premise, but shouldn’t be held highly on characterization.

That’s my feelings on it anyways. I’m really glad to hear you enjoy my blog, and I appreciate your compassion about it too. I needed another smile today. it genuinely means a ton to me.

[bramblepeltao3]

Oh hey part 2 of ? of this AU of an AU of an AU because I’m an adult and there is no one to stop me.

---

“The chronic fatigue isn’t going anywhere any time soon, but that’s okay. There are plenty of accommodations that can be made for him. I’m putting in a requisition to make the palace grounds wheelchair accessible, and if it doesn’t go through immediately I’ll just be an annoying bitch until it does. They’re getting rather sick of me up there.” Del tapped her pen on the desk, swiping on the tablet through her most recent notes. She didn’t need them, but they made her look more important and organized. “Otherwise, his physique is finally catching up to that of an average, healthy teenage boy. Though I’d appreciate it if you’d lighten up a bit on the strength training, it’s taking energy from his academics.”

Aranea stared at her from the other side of the desk, looking far off into space.

“Aaaand, you didn’t hear any of that, did you?” Del huffed.

“I did. I was just thinking….sorry about how I’ve been acting.” She crossed her arms, looking Del in the eye. “I didn’t trust you, kinda still don’t, but it’s nice to see Prompto happy again. He’s always been like a little brother to me, so, guess I got a little overprotective.”

Del felt a stab in her chest, and forced a quick smile to hide it. “I mean, isn’t ‘overprotective’ in your job description?”

“True.” Aranea relaxed into her seat. “I still don’t get your motives, but you seem like your concern is genuine. So, at least we both have that.”

“My motivations are to treat my patient until he doesn’t need me anymore.” And who knows where she’d go after that? Maybe a long vacation feet first into a volcano. “Call me idealistic, but I’m a doctor. I want to cure the sick and heal the wounded. It’s not much more complicated than that.” It was way, way more complicated than that.

And the shield could tell.

She stood up, leaned over the desk until her face was inches away from Del’s.

“Trust me, Doc, I wanna believe you.” Aranea smirked, noticing the deep red rushing over Del’s cheeks. “But I’ve been around the block here too many times. And this time, I’m not letting anyone get the jump on me.” She stood back up with a knowing glare before turning and leaving.

“Wait-” Del shot up, knocking her own chair back. 

“Oh, and the strength training was Shortcake’s idea. He insisted, actually. You want him to study ancient Altissian history instead, take it up with him and his tutor.” And she was gone, the door closing right behind her.

Del leaned a little more heavily against her desk. Maybe...maybe Aranea should know. Maybe she could help, really it couldn’t hurt could it? 

But what if she told Prompto, or what if it changed how she looked at him? What if Verstael found out? She remembered the first and only time she crossed her father so blatantly. 

No. No one needed to know. She’d just take the suspicion and blame in stride and continue her work. She already had one confidant, stressful as he was, and that would just have to be enough.

---

“A treaty?” Cor asked, looking at the young and panicked delegate’s assistant. “You can’t be serious.”

He nodded. “Marshal, Sir, the ambassador was very direct. Niflheim wishes to broker peace with Lucis.”

Bullshit.

“He wasn’t clear on the terms yet, he only said he wished for His Majesty to speak to their Emperor. And they’d like to send their prince to Insomnia as part of a goodwill tour.”

Cor felt his stomach drop. “They want to send their sixteen year old recluse over here?”

“Sir.” Monica spoke up. “I was listening on the call. It would seem they want to forge diplomatic relations between our future monarchs. I couldn’t say if it’s genuine but…”

It made sense. Noctis and Prompto were both sixteen, both royalty, and both set to inherit a generations’ old war. It was in both country's interests for the two to meet and start some sort of friendship now, if they were ever going to see peace within the next century. But inviting Imperials right into their own homes, just waltzing right through the wall like it wasn’t made specifically to keep them out. 

The risk and reward were both intense.

“Then I suppose we’ll have to inform His Majesty of this development.”

The prince of Niflheim walking through the doors of the city; Mors was surely rolling in his grave at the thought. But then, the latest intel on the boy stated he was still having health troubles despite obvious improvements. So it stood to reason that any delegation that came with the prince would have to include…

“And discuss negotiation tactics.”

---

“No way. No fucking way.” Del yelled before colliding her fist into the punching bag. She didn’t often engage in physical training, but desperate times called for desperate measures. She needed to be at her best both mentally and physically if she was going to see her work through. She couldn’t keep relying on the chancellor to protect her forever.

“You’re not being asked, you’re being ordered.” The man who couldn’t be more than an intern on the chain of importance said, unflinching as she continued to pummel the bag swinging from the ceiling.

“He’s not fit to travel that far. I’m not signing off on those orders, it would be a breach of ethics. And you can take that back to your Emperor. I don’t give a shit.” 

“Refusing to sign will be noted as an admission of failure in your duty to tend to the prince’s health.” He stated flatly.

She gave one last hard punch before turning to face the man.

“Excuse me?” Del seethed. “Letting him travel for days on end on a train, a boat, over a desert and into a city full of people who want him dead would be a failure of my duty.” 

“I don’t pretend to know what it is you do, Doctor, I am merely stating a fact. So once again, please sign this release form.” The man was unnervingly lacking in emotion.

“You can shove that form right up yo-”

“How dare you speak to a lady of the nobility with such impunity!” A voice from behind cut her off. A voice she knew. 

Oh Gods. Not this guy.

“Do you have even the slightest idea in your thick skull who this woman is? Because if you did, you would surely show more respect.” The kid, dressed in his dorky high school gym clothes with a duffel bag slung over his shoulder, intruded into the adult conversation.

“I am speaking to the prince’s personal physician, Doctor Besithia, and she is refusing to comply with the Emperor’s orders.” The man replied as if this was a completely normal thing to happen. 

“Loqi, I swear to the fucking Gods, what are you doing?” Del rubbed her hands between her eyes. It was only a matter of time before she’d run into this guy again but she really hoped it wouldn’t be this soon.

“There is no need for the doctor to sign a release, she’s going with the prince to Insomnia.”

“Ha! Okay, wow, this is certainly not the correct venue for either of you to be making these decisions for me.” She said, standing there in her gym shorts and sports bra, sweaty and red. 

“His Imperial Highness put me in charge of the delegation, I’ve already made arrangements for you to be part of it.” Loqi said with unearned confidence. “You have nothing to fear from the Lucians, my lady, Highwind and I will be there to protect you.”

“I’ll have to draft a new form then.” The man muttered before leaving.

“Yeah, whatever, okay, what delegation? What the fuck is even going on and why out of everyone possible were you put in charge of it?” What she really wanted to scream was why was this guy put in charge of anything involving her?

“The Emperor wishes to broker a peace treaty with the Lucians, and plans to send his highness prince Prompto to act as ambassador.” Loqi said, making a show of averting his eyes from her.

“Oh, okay. So the prince who has no experience with foreign relations or, well, being around more than three people at a time is going to go into the heart of the country we’ve been at war with for decades, and you’re in charge of the whole thing?” Del asked.

“That is correct, my lady.”

Del sighed. “So it’s a death trap.”

“My lady I can assure you no Lucian will even so much as touch you during this tour. Not even their Immortal. And I welcome him to try.”

“Oh Gods you’re still on about that, fucking shit, dude.”

Ten years ago Delphia made the biggest mistake of her life. She’d been sent away to a strict private academy after her father discovered the second biggest mistake of her life. And there, she met Loqi Tummelt. A boy one year below her who was creepily obsessed with Cor Leonis. And one day, in an attempt to make him shut the fuck up for just one gods damned minute, she’d made the mistake of telling the kid she’d met The Immortal.

“Yeah, he’s an idiot and not that impressive like at all, so can you please cool it with this weird obsession?” She remembered telling him.

She’d been extra mean on purpose, as she did with everyone she met during that time, to make sure he’d never want to speak to her ever again.

But this kid, this freaking kid, all he heard was ‘I’ve met your weird rival hero’. And that was it. He refused to leave her alone since.

Medical school was nice specifically because he wasn’t there.

But now he was here.

Great.

He made a show of looking around, seemingly to make sure they were alone.

“I know your secret, my lady, and though I cannot begin to understand I will protect it with my life.”

Her what?

“I didn’t mean to overhear, but whatever reason you must hide the truth of your birth, it doesn’t change who you are.”

Her WHAT?

“I’ll show you, Princess Delphia.” He whispered. “Soon, I’ll prove to you and everyone else once and for all my true strength. And then, I’ll finally be worthy of taking your hand.”

HER

WHAT

Del instinctively pulled both hands up to the sides of her face. “Okay, first off all it's Doctor. I am Doctor Besithia to you. I did not bust my ass in school to not be called Doctor. And whatever it is you think you overheard, you didn’t. I’m not a-”

...Loqi was the one who eavesdropped on them all those months ago. He heard her call Prompto her brother. And that was his takeaway. 

Fuck.

FUCK!

“You little shit, you were eavesdropping on me.” 

“Your secret is safe, I swear it. Now. Please be packed and prepared to depart for Lucis by this coming Sunday. The journey will be long, and we’ll require your expertise to ensure the prince’s safety.” He bowed. 

And he left.

And after a moment, finally alone in the quiet walls of the gym, Delphia screamed.

---

Prompto could scream. A whole week spent preparing himself mentally for this trip wasn’t enough. He just could not account for the absolute rush of emotion he would feel stepping onto a train for the first time.

It hadn’t even begun to move yet. 

But it’s what the train represented that mattered. His second chance. His more certain future. His tiny little taste of freedom. It was all here, packed and loaded on to this train. This was something he knew he could never, ever forget.

But just to be on the safe side…

“Hey Nea, say cheese!” He chirped before taking a perfectly terribly timed selfie.

Aranea blinked before frowning at him. “Alright, whose bright idea was it to give Shortcake a camera?”

“Uncle Ardyn!” Prompto said, full of joy. He rarely got to see the chancellor but when he did the man was always bringing him the best gifts.

Doctor Del looked at him with surprise from across the train car.

“Ooh, Del, gotta get one with you too!” He slid over next to her, lifting his camera. “Smile!” Prompto said before clicking the shutter.

“You’re in high spirits today.” Aranea looked at him with a smile.

He shot back up, standing between the two of them. “Yeah, I’m just...I’m really optimistic. I know this trip is gonna be great.” The destination, well...that was left to be seen. He felt a rush of embarrassment wash over him, like everyone in the train car was staring at him. Probably because they were. 

“I’m glad you’re well enough to enjoy this, Prompto.” Del said, also smiling.

Okay, now he was super embarrassed.”Couldn’t of done it without you girls!” He said, pointing at his doctor and his shield.

...the much older than him doctor and shield who were full grown women he just called girls.

“I-I mean…”

“Sit down, Shortcake, you look like you’re gonna pass out.”

He did so, and took some time to look out the window as the sound of steam releasing hissed and the train began to move with a jolt. The scenery began to move past him, faster and faster, until he thought they couldn’t possibly go any faster.

And then somehow they did.

It wasn’t long before the motion began to sit wrong in his stomach, and he thought perhaps he should spend some time going through the enormous notebook of intel that was handed to him just this morning.

He opened it and looked at the first page. A dossier on Lucis’ prince. Noctis Lucis Caelum. He was only a couple of months older than Prompto, which was a relief. If he was way older or younger this would’ve been a weird visit. He turned the page and suddenly, he was face to face with him. A photograph of prince Noctis: dark hair, mysterious eyes, an obvious build of muscle and good health.

Prompto felt himself begin to sweat even on this air conditioned train. Who was he fooling? While he’d spent the last eight years bed ridden and alone, this prince was surely doing what princes are supposed to do. Training, studying, a perfect skincare routine, maybe he was even good at art and dancing! Noctis just looked like the perfect model of nobility.

And here was Prompto. Pale skin, droopy hair, red dots all over his face, weak, talentless, and far behind in anything academic a prince should be skilled in by sixteen. He frowned at his reflection in the window. This was a mistake. Surely, it had to be. He couldn’t even compare to Noctis. The Insomnian court would take one look at him, laugh, and send the delegation back. Then they’d just wait for him to take the throne one day so they could easily overthrow him.

That’s exactly what was going to happen.

His downward thought spiral was interrupted by the sound of the train car door slamming open. The leader of this mission, General Loqi Tummelt, stepped in. He was still dressed in his military finery even though they weren’t due in Lucis for a long while yet. He seemed like that kinda guy though, the sort who took a lot of pride in his heritage and rank. No wonder his father trusted him with such a precarious mission!

“Your Imperial highness, ladies, or journey has-”

“Doctor.”

Prompto looked over at Del, who had interrupted the man with little regard for his status.

“We’ve been over this. Address me as doctor before my gender, please and thank you.” She frowned.

“Yeah, actually. You’ll address me as Commodore, Tummelt. Unlike Lemon Tart over there, I’m not even a noblewoman. So get your shit together before you open your mouth again.”

Prompto felt like he might just shrink from the awkwardness taking place around him.

“Just Prompto is fine!” He blurted out before realizing how stupid that was.

Loqi took a long breath before continuing. “Doctor. Commodore. Just Prompto. Our journey has begun. In due time we will be upon our enemy’s doorstep. And then a true battle of wits will begin. Be sure you’re prepared for anything.”

“Oh, is that all?” Aranea asked.

“Wow dude, very helpful.” Del sneered.

“Like we didn’t already know that.”

“Fucking useless, this guy.”

“I cannot believe you addressed the prince like that.”

“Get it together, Loqi.”

“Yeah get your shit together Loqi.”

The two women shot insult after insult at the general with no regard whatsoever for his rank of station. It was...terrifying.

Loqi cleared his throat. “I’ll be in the first cabin should you require my assistance.” He said before leaving back from where he came from.

A tense silence settled in the air that threatened to choke him out. Prompto felt that familiar tingle of anxiety creeping up his spine, about to reach out and burst through in tears until he heard Aranea begin to laugh.

And then Del started laughing.

And then both of them were laughing harder.

“Can you believe that guy?” Del asked, rubbing at her eye.

“Gods, he is such a pain in the ass.” Aranea smirked.

“You’re telling me, I went to high school with him. Cannot believe he somehow made it this far.”

“Oh you’ve never heard of failing up? Pretty common around here.”

These women were brutal. They were mean, and sharp, and cut right through whoever was in their path without remorse. 

“Hey, Prom, you doing alright?” Aranea asked. “You’re looking a little pale there.”

“Oh!” Del jumped from her seat and sat next to him, putting a hand on his forehead. “Are you nauseous? Motion sickness is common on trains. I packed some dramamine in my bag, let me just-”

These women took no one’s shit and demanded respect where it was due. They were ruthless.

And they were both like older sisters fussing over him with care and…

Huh.

“I’m okay, really.” Prompto said. And he was.

---

Cor steeled his nerves one last time. The delegation was on their doorstep. They were either about to usher in a new era of peace, or make the biggest mistake in Lucis’ entire history.

But also the little kid who was really mean and shitty was all grown up and part of it. 

Cor had to figure she wasn’t that much different from her younger self. From what little intel they could scrape, she’d pissed off her father at one point. In retaliation she’d been banished away to private school in Gralea, got her act together, and got into medical school easily as a legacy applicant (Though her grades were part of the intel. She didn’t need that family name to get into whatever school she wanted.)

The most surprising thing in that whole file, however, was that she’d applied to the Insomnian Medical Institute. There were only so many foreign students accepted every year, and she was most likely disqualified because of her name. The irony was immense.

“Everything’s in order here. Status, Drautos?” Cor asked through the mic on his ear piece. The glaive had their orders, the crownsguard theres. The need for hospitality was great, and security even greater.

Everyone was playing their part. And that included Insomnia’s own civilians. It appeared the population was split in half in their opinions: one side embracing the idea of peace, one calling it a hoax and threatening violence upon the visitors.

Regis had made it quite clear they intended to greet the prince of Niflheim as a guest. Nothing more, nothing less.

“Free and clear, standing by.” Cor’s colleague reported into his ear. 

He crossed his arms behind his back, standing by his king’s side. On the other, the prince was reluctantly in his own royal regalia which did not quite fit him as well as his father had hoped.

Scientia had done his best.

Their intel on the prince was lacking, of course. Hard to get much information on someone who rarely left his heavily guarded room. But Cor knew enough. He knew where that kid came from. And he knew the woman who had been photographed again and again at his side.There was hope. Just a little.

There was always the chance Prompto was nothing more than a puppet, an unwilling actor in a show meant to destroy everything Cor held dear.

So vigilant he stayed, with a small layer of hope on top.

He hoped that little kid was still the rebellious little shithead who denounced everything her parents stood for and was ready to burn everything down.

That would work out quite well.

[ohnohetaliasues]

Stones to Abbigale {Ch. 1}

(Kat)

This is going to be the worst thing I’ve ever read, isn’t it?

Am I going to actively want to die? Yes, most likely. But apparently, because I run a blog like this, I can endure suffering.

Flashbacks to Blood Raining Night.

Here we go. We will start with the introduction, written by the onion lord himself.

I want to be direct, my name is Greg. I go by “Onision” online.

Okay, I dunno what it is, but something feels off about this sentence.

This book is made up of events that occurred in my own life mixed with fiction from the made up life of James. James is essentially a better version of myself.

I can’t imagine how good that could be, seeing as the man who wrote this is a child predator and is just an overall piece of hot garbage.

His home, his school & his life all resemble my own at his age.

Don’t ever use a fucking ampersand instead of the word ‘and.’ It’s just bad grammar.

The people James analyzes and is surrounded by are not so unlike those I’ve known as well.

Analyzes?

Why?

I have experienced much of the loss James has however his happier moments are more often than not also mine.

Then write a memoir. Not this.

I want to share my story without it being purely non-fiction.

I mean, some people do this with books about their lives, but this feels... Odd?

I simply felt this approach would make for a far better book. At points I cried while writing this, at others I laughed.

Congratulations.

I don’t care.

Stones To Abbigale is not just a book I wrote, it is a piece of who I am.

That’s a given for all writers, but I still don’t care. 

I’m going to rip this book to shreds.

Okay here we go.

I was asleep until I met her, but when I woke, I learned the meaning of "perfect imperfection."

Is this Onion boy trying to be poetic?

It actually made me want to die.

I've always been the type of person to focus on stars as we spin beneath them, the cool breeze on a sunny day, scattered patches of grass under my feet, the world around me, often forgetting to even glance at the one within.

‘The one within.’

Okay so the way this is written makes those three things seem disconnected. I often do stuff like this when I write, but I’d write it like ‘as we spin beneath them, focus on the breeze on a sunny day, on the scattered patches of grass, etc.’

You couldn’t pay me all the money in the world to rewrite that garbage sentence. This is all very waxing poetic and not in a good well structured way.

I had remained emotionally unexplored for so much of my life.

That must’ve been boring, not experiencing human emotions like the rest of us.

You sociopath, you.

It's painful knowing some can go an entire lifetime without understanding their own heart, an internal lock waiting for the right key to change everything.

Yeah, whatever, shut the hell up, you whiny idiot.

This is like an introduction by a teenager who just opened a poetry book and was like ‘yup. I wanna write like that.’

Except you aren’t William Blake or Walt Whitman and you never will be.

Sorry, Onion boy.

Except I’m not.

Die mad about it, grease ball.

It was the first Monday of November. I opened my eyes, blinded by my recently painted wall-to-wall white room. Even my bed frame, constructed of purely metal, was painted white.

Okay, cool. I’m a descriptive writer and I take every chance I can get to mention details, but even I find this description awkward. It feels irrelevant in this situation.

It bounced off the walls causing my eyelids to desperately clamp together. Painting my room like this was a clear act of subtle self-inflicted psychological torture.

Then why in the sweet hell did you do it? Do you enjoy suffering?

Actually, he probably does.

Because this is edgy as hell.

I was going through another phase, from darkness to light, and repeat. Seemed like the story of my life.

This is so edgy I am in physical pain.

You know your symbolism is good when it’s so random that you have to point it out and explain it to your audience.

My mom could see the darker colors were depressing me, I felt comforted by them, but found there were good aspects of both extremes. I was happy to visit either side, they are both so simple. But right now the intense light bouncing from wall to wall felt like it was ripping my mind in two.

Am I an idiot or is that just... word salad?

My mom didn't wake me. My alarm clock sat on my dresser with no explanation for it's failure to function. The clock only illuminated a blank stare with 8:17 written all over it's face. While entirely robotic, I imagined the clock to have the dumbest possible expression, one complementing its failure to behave any way outside its random glitch-infested nature.

That was the worst way to write a personification ever, but okay.

In the reflection of it's plastic face I could see myself unconsciously making the dumb expression I was imaging the clock to have. I laughed in my casual dorky tone and began to get ready to leave home.

I’m not laughing, idiot.

Without breakfast, I left for school with a bogus note in hand to idealistically explain my tardiness.

You... You wrote a fake note?

Do you realize you could get in trouble for that?

You’re an idiot.

I think most of my teachers were too exhausted to worry about small variances in our appearance from time to time. With how low their pay likely was, I imagined there were very few rules most teachers cared about.

That isn’t true at all. Teachers have to pay attention to rules unless they want to get, I dunno, fired.

It was another cold day in Lakewood. The wind hit my eyes forcing tears to form in the corners as I sped along the sidewalk at a no-doubt unreasonable speed.

I cannot imagine any good imagery for this scene. I’m just imagining this gif:

I passed Lauren and Raymon walking the opposite direction, no doubt headed toward the nearby church where all the students go to smoke, make out and hide out till school ends.

Um okay. Does this guy know that if characters don’t have relivance to the story, if they have no reason to be named, than they don’t have to be?

No.

Because he’s a 34 year old man baby.

They seemed so childish as they held hands and smiled excitedly as if they had gotten away with some tremendous crime.

That sentence seems so robotic I genuinely can’t.

Mr. Hanson, my heavy-set, middle-aged history teacher, rolled his eyes as I walked into class. "James, talk to me after class" he said quickly, looking away from me as if I were an undervalued employee who was barely important enough to make eye contact with let alone deliver a full sentence to.

It bothers me so deeply that a new paragraph wasn’t started when this character talked.

"I have a note," I said. He ignored me, and continued his lecture on yet another topic that would not only be completely useless later in life, but wasn't even relevant for even a few seconds after the words left his mouth.

Why is this teacher acting like a petty teenager?

I’m deeply annoyed by this.

And yeah, it’s relevant. You have tests, you idiot. Take notes. And it’s also history, which is, again, relevant.

In conclusion, shut your mouth and stop bitching.

There was only 15 minutes left in the class, but I felt it would be more stimulating to integrate myself into the room to yet again study my classmates' behavior than to sit in a hall watching the rows of scum covered tiles inevitably slide off the decaying walls.

That’s a health code violation, friends.

Or Onion is an awful writer and he thinks describing a school like this is a good idea. My money is on that.

For as long as I remember I've enjoyed seeing how people move around and talk to each other, like they're all animals at the zoo.

Something is wrong with you, friend. Liking to people watch is one thing, but doing shit like this is something else entirely.

Uh, try sociopath-like?

Creepy as hell?

We’ll go with both.

I would try to deliver a more accurate analogy if I felt there was one

Bitch, there is. I can’t name one off the top of my head because reading this makes me feel like my brain is melting out of my ears, but I’m 100% sure there is a better analogy. Even though this feels more like a simile.

but so many of them seemed incredibly unaware of themselves, just living life as if it were some generic predefined routine.

Oh, and you’re so much better obviously, you pretentious bastard.

Sometimes I felt like an alien who had a VIP pass to submerge myself in primitive human culture just for entertainment.

Congratulations, that’s also what you sound like.

I sense everything I can take in around me. The seemingly limitless audible tones, tremors in the voices of growing children rang in my ears. In studying people, I found myself gradually learning to literally feel the various personality types I encountered.

Do you... Do you have psychic powers?

If not, shut your damn mouth.

I hyper analyzed every inconsistent smell, the seemingly random clothing styles, freckles, and assorted hairstyles filled my mind with questions. Trying to rationalize and understand what sequence of events led them to decide who they would become.

You are the most pretentious protagonist I have ever read. I’m half a chapter in and I already fucking hate you.

This character is so poorly written and immediately unlikable. i cannot relate to him at all and if someone does, I suggest you go get some help because how this asshole is behaving doesn’t sound human.

I took favor of categorizing most everyone around me. The socially inept know-it-all, the dumb attention-seeking drama kid

On behalf of all drama kids, go fuck yourself.

and the bleach blonde bimbo who gets overly defensive at the slightest hint of criticism.

Do you mean you?

Onion obviously didn’t let anyone edit this garbage.

Then there were the kids who just hoped no one noticed them at all. There was so much to be seen, to be considered and organized in my mind.

Mhm.

I don’t care.

Class had just ended so I walked over to Mr. Hanson's' desk &

And*

placed the tardy note down in passing. As I walked out with the rest of my class, he called after me. "James! We still need to talk!" I responded but continued to walk outside the room. "I have to be early to my next class! Let's talk tomorrow!"

You’re an asshole.

And I hate you.

I walked quickly down the hall towards my art class, which was awkwardly placed in a trailer outside my clearly poorly funded high school.

Um.

Okay.

On my way to the class a fight had already broken out between two jocks who, no doubt, both had controlling, iron-fisted fathers who brainwashed them into believing conflicts between men are best resolved with the bloodying of their fists.

That’s a bold thing to assume, dear Onion.

These kinds of men plagued my mind with wonder. I could not conceive a scenario in which they could justify their primitive & pointless mentalities yet they would always continue to perpetuate their self-destructive attitudes as if it offered the slightest legitimate benefit.

Oh, shut your pretentious mouth.

Most everyone nearby crowded around the fight. None of them likely cared who was winning, what it was about or how far it went. All they ever seemed to show concern for was their own amusement, always excited to see violence without having to pull out their wallets to pay for it.

Are you joking?

Where are the teachers?

This is complete bullshit.

This is high school, not a fucking fight club.

Does Onion even try to make this believable? Or is he just vomiting all over his keyboard and just accepting whatever nonsense that makes?

As the sounds of flesh collided fist to cheek & chest quickly followed the howls from the surrounding students. They would scream "Oooohhhh!" as if it were sincerely delightful to witness creatures like themselves suffer & fall apart before their eyes.

The use of ampersands is making me lose my goddamn mind.

Even if I had time to stop, I never really took pleasure in seeing strangers hurt each other. Most all fights seemed avoidable and were often initiated for a senseless reason.

Go choke on air. This protagonist annoys me more than any protagonist has. I’m not joking. Fuck this dickwad.

I know, you could say it's more complicated than that, I would like to think it were as well, but reality trumps the way I wish things would be. There's no sense in fighting it when doing so rarely helps anyone.

While this is true, this is worded in a way that’s so pretentious it’s painful and also in a way that paints this protagonist in such a white knight-y way that it makes me want to die.

As I approached my next class the image of Abbi's face illuminated the neon walls of my mind like a projector teasing a theatre screen with fleeting moments of depth & purpose.

That is complete and utter word salad. Stop immediately.

Ever since I met her, she had occupied a part of my consciousness; whenever I wasn't near her I missed her to an unrealistic extent. You could call my longing sad especially considering we had barely talked; she just had a strange effect on me, one no doubt similar to a willful addiction.

That’s called a crush, but the way that was just described is so creepy.

There are people in life which we pass by on a daily basis, barely aware of their existence, but on an exceptionally rare occasion you can find a person who fills an area inside your little world you didn't even realize needed filling.

While that’s technically not untrue, it feels like a lizard person is trying to tell me what having a crush on someone is like.

As I walked up the creaking stairs into my art class trailer I could see Abbi was sitting at her shared-desk, alone, same makeup, hairstyle & general appearance I had thought about repeatedly over the last couple days. She was drawing pictures on her blue-lined paper, distracting herself from the cold that filled the oddly glowing room.

This... This imagery is so fucking weird.

I smiled slightly trying not to be too obvious and sat down on my chilled metal chair positioned a few seats to the left in front of her. Glancing over, I could see she hadn't moved at all, I felt like she didn't even notice me come in.

You aren’t the center of her world, so yeah, she’s focused on something else. That’s just how it is, asshat.

I wanted to inspire some acknowledgment of my existence from Abbi so I opened my mouth to greet her when my fingers brushed up against freshly smeared gum under my desk. "Eeew!" I shouted out on impulse. She looked up at me with a blank expression.

I’ve accidentally touched gum on the bottom of my desk before, as I can imagine everyone has, but I’ve never shouted about it like a lunatic.

Bursting into the room came a group of boys. "Dude I think John's done bro!" one of the other boys laughed, saying "Won't see them for a week at least."

Nobody talks like this. Have you ever spoke to another human?

I looked back at Abbi to see she also didn't react to their outburst. Strangely knowing that her apathy was generalized and impersonal gave me comfort.

There needs to be a comma after ‘strangely,’ but whatever.

Her influence on how I felt was obviously dangerous but I didn't care as no matter how fond I was of the idea that I was not of the world, I knew my place and had no real interest in pretending otherwise.

Explain to me how in the hell that’s dangerous.

Jason, one of the boys energetically praising the fight they had just seen, sat in his seat next to Abbi. I smirked watching her shoulders shift away from him. Her body language sent a loud message that she had the same impression of Jason as I did. He was just another moron, placed on this Earth to live his life completely unexamined,

That word is not used properly in that sentence.

a pawn that had no awareness of its own role let alone that it was just another tiny component within a massive unstoppably twisted game.

Shut your pretentious mouth because that doesn’t make any goddamn fucking sense.

I know it sounds morbid and condescending but my attitude was just something that naturally developed the more I studied human behavior.

Bullshit.

I would be more optimistic but I find doing so would be like walking into a room with no windows and turning out the light. If you refuse to see the world around you for what it is you're just wasting your eyes.

Being optimistic means looking on the good side of things. You’ve heard the glass half empty or half full thing. it’s that. And as someone who jumps between optimism and pessimism, being optimistic isn’t like this at all.

Don’t try to be poetic or funny, Onion. Those are two things that you aren’t.

Art class was about to begin. My teacher, Mrs. Stanley, who looked like she should have retired a ridiculous thirty years ago, approached the front of the room talking about how art is sacred. She also discussed the random object she had us all draw the previous school day and ironically graded it by using her own narrow-minded definition of art.

That isn’t ironic.

I always wondered how teachers could even attempt objectively grading art. Is there any logic behind validating a form of self-expression using a cold black and white mathematical system?

It’s a class where you have to follow the curricula. Shut your damn mouth.

And this is coming from someone who hated her art teacher. But this art teacher was so utterly closed minded that she didn’t accept anyone else’s creative process. She basically told us that if we didn’t follow her process, we weren’t real artists.

"Today I'm going to place you with partners" Mrs. Stanley said as she pulled out sheets of paper outlining our activities to come. "To keep this simple, I'm going to partner you with the person you are currently assigned to share a desk with" she said. I sighed knowing I was bound to be paired up with Alex, a guy I had specifically asked to be seated away from ever since he peed in a jar literally right next to me under our desk, acting like he was so cool for publicly exposing himself while simultaneously urinating.

That... He expected to be treated like he was cool for this?

That’s fucking disgusting.

It happened weeks ago and I still can't figure out what kind of crazy it takes for you to, in the presence of people you barely know but have to see nearly on a daily basis, pee in a jar held in your hand just beneath your desk in the middle of a classroom.

At first when I read this, I thought that the wayit was worded made it sound like Alex forced James to hold the jar while he peed in it, but okay, whatever.

What then? You show it off like you will be praised and accepted as if it were an accomplishment? Alex, despite being borderline mental, was one of my least favorite people to study.

It is actually physically exhausting to read this shit. James is a pretentious asshole.

I couldn't help but feel there was some defect in his mind that invalidated the point of conducting a thorough analysis of him.

This just makes it seem like James has mind reading powers.

He was completely irrelevant when considering the realities of normal human behavior.

Behavior you don’t act according to, you lizard person sociopath.

As I was off on a tangent in my own mind I heard a familiar voice ring out, one that inspired the very same emotion you experience when a song you had forgotten you loved, randomly plays in the background of your daily life. "Can I be paired up with James?" her voice was just as I remembered.

Is this Abbi?

I have a friend who spells her name like this, so I really hate that there’s a character in this shitty book who shares a name with her.

Despite her having not spoken in class in some time, she hadn't changed a note. Abbi had interrupted the teacher just to partner with me, but I asked myself if was it really just to work with me or just to get away from Jason.

Um. Okay.

The teacher, looking irritated but understanding Abbi's discomfort with Jason responded "Alex and Jason, you'll be partners. James, switch seats with Jason" "Thank you!" Abbi said with a slight smile. With a cocky grin Jason stood up and in a comedic fashion smelled his armpit. "Wow, I didn't know I smelled that bad" Jason said as he walked over to sit by Alex.

That isn’t funny and Onion boy isn’t funny.

Approaching Abbi was no doubt a way scarier act in my mind than it was to everyone around me, I felt like my head was burning from the inside out.

That’s a little extreme.

Nevertheless I continued to remind myself that her public outcry to partner with me could have meant nothing. I sat down next to her and did all I could not to turn into a complete dork on her. She reached out and grabbed the project outline that was being passed out. Mrs. Stanley began to read the description of the assignment. "Today you will both be taking something meaningful, but expendable, from your own homes."

If something is meaningful it isn’t expendable. Stop.

Mrs. Stanley looked up and emphasized, "That you own!" then looked back down at her paper. "You will tear those items apart here in class. You will then take those items and, using the adhesives, staples and the strings available in class, find a way to create something new out of those possessions."

That’s actually kind of an interesting idea. But like. Maybe with a cup? I don’t wanna rip apart something I care about.

She looked up and said in a low voice sounding somewhat like Dracula "Two, will become one."

That is unnecessarily creepy. It reads like an innuendo.

Also, what in fresh hell does Dracula’s voice sound like?

Did she say it with a Transylvanian accent? I’m confused.

Jason raised his hand objecting, "All due respect Mrs. Stanley I'm not breaking something of mine for this class."

Jason has the right idea.

She replied putting her hands on her hips, "That's fine Jason. We'll supply you with a toilet paper rolls, we have plenty of extras around here." Jason suddenly looked disturbed and sarcastically spouted "Freaking great!"

Why???

That’s better than ripping apart a t-shirt.

Mrs. Stanley asked, "Are you sure? Your grade shouldn't suffer that much if you two just take Alex's piss jar and tape it to a toilet paper roll. You're already failing this class."

What in the literal fuck?!

You cannot say that to students. No, you can’t say that to anyone.

Jason couldn't believe what she had just said

Same.

and Alex maintained an awkward frozen facial expression with his mouth slightly open in his normal weirdo somewhat robotic fashion.

"Oh my god" Abbi whispered under her breath with a slight smirk. I grinned uncontrollably; just seeing her amused was amazing to me.

That wasn’t really funny, it was just shocking.

I could hear a scream in the back of my mind reminding me my dorkiness and borderline obsession was escaping through my face.

It's not that I couldn't help being in awe of Abbi and basically every little thing she did, I simply didn't want to change how I felt. In a way, she was like your favorite song or book, you could pretend not to like it and in time with the right mental coaching maybe you would sincerely dislike it, but life just felt so much better embracing your condition entirely, letting all your nerdy admiration flow freely.

This just reads like an obsession. I don’t have the energy to actually express how romantic feelings actually feel, but this is terrifying.

Mrs. Stanley continued, "If there's anyone else who has an issue, please take it up with my 1800 number which is?" She put her hand up to the air signaling the students to react but only a couple kids replied aloud with her catch phrase. "1-800-BOO-HOOO" they mumbled.

Sweet Jesus.

So this is what it feels like to lose my mind.

She continued, "Good, now for the rest of class please work with your partner on what you plan to bring and draw up a prototype sketch of what you feel your final piece of art will look like." Mrs. Stanley walked to the back of her room and sat down at her 1950's looking rust-infested desk.

Is this school just a giant health code violation? And what the hell do you mean by ‘1950′s desk?’ All I got when I googled that were pictures of wooden desks.

I would always laugh internally when I looked at the old thing. Maybe it was my way of coping with the fact I attended one of the most run down schools in the state.

I have nothing that isn’t full of curse words and fact checking to say here.

"What are you going to bring James?" Abbi asked.

This sentence is put so Abbi looks like she’s asking if James is going to bring himself without the comma after the word ‘bring.’ Did Onion really not edit his book at all? These are simple and fixable grammatical mistakes.

It was amazing hearing my name pass her lips but I had no time to think, if I didn't respond right away she would think I was totally awkward. "I... have no idea..." I responded. Smiling she said, "I'm going to bring my hamster cage", I asked, "Did he die or something?" she laughed, "No, I never got one, the cage was just a gift from my dad."

But you’re supposed to cut it up.

Hamster cages are made of metal.

Does Abbi just have superhuman strength? Is she going to bring a pair of bolt cutters?

"Your dad didn't get you a hamster... for the cage?" I asked.

My question exactly.

Sometimes you just...

You just gotta give your daughter a hamster cage but no hamster.

She paused and started to lose her smile.

Oh fabulous, she’s one of those characters.

At the first sign of her smile fading I felt a crushing pressure in my chest. "Hopefully you can find something that will work with that," she said. I couldn't help but feel like a total jerk despite not even knowing what I did wrong.

That interaction was so... Weird? Robotic? i don’t know. Something felt wrong about it.

I had the overwhelming urge to fix how she felt so I took a gamble, "Well, I could always bring that weird vibrating thing my mom hides in her drawers all wrapped up in a cloth" I said.

What is wrong with you?

I cannot fathom what made Onion think this joke was funny.

She busted out laughing hysterically as a huge grinned filled my face. I was so happy I could get her to smile again. "Eeew! James!" she continued to laugh as the extent of my grin began to stress my cheeks. I couldn't remember a time when I was this obvious about how I felt.

This... Something is wrong with just... all the dialogue.

And with the formatting. You make a new paragraph when someone starts talking. A 34 year old man should know this. He writes like me when I first started writing, and while this probably means he just started writing, I was 11 years old when I wrote like this.

He is a 34 year old adult. There is no excuse for how bad this formatting and how generally terribly written these interactions are.

Abbi's laughing trailed off and she paused. Turning to me she said, "You... you didn't actu- ally... your moms?"

*Pained groaning.*

I responded, "No, I wouldn't know about that, but I'm glad it made you laugh." She responded, returning to a soft laugh "You're more goofy than I thought James." I sat next to her looking at my fingers interlaced in front of me; my wide smile relaxed but still filled my cheeks with warmth.

This entire chapter, everything here, is so awkwardly written.

As class came to a close Abbi patted me on my arm. I turned and she handed me a note. Instinctively I put it in my pocket and said "See ya tomorrow", she just smiled and walked away.

????

On my way to my next class, I opened the note. I didn't understand why, but it read "NISEONE."

Not knowing what to make of it and with little time, I stuffed it back in my pocket to look over later.

Yeah, that’s cryptic as hell.

Not feeling like skating home,

Oh, we’re really getting into edgy 2000′s shit now.

I got on the bus to see all the normal rejects and misfits waiting. Davis, a short and scrawny kid who had been my best friend since middle school despite being one grade behind me excitedly waved me over.

Oh, good, more terrible characters.

"James! Nice to seeeee you!"

Oh, this bitch needs to die.

he said in seemingly the dorkiest way possible. I smiled as he stood up giving me the window seat, knowing very well by then that I preferred it.

Um. Okay.

As I sat down I began looking out the window, analyzing the little humans running left and right to get on their busses.

Buses*

And I am going to eventually kick your ass for this pretentious bullshit.

Something reached out and caught the corner of my eye. I immediately shifted my head to see what it was and quickly realized it was Abbi standing in the parking lot by some beat-up sedan.

"What'cha looking at James?" Davis asked. Without hesitation I began to respond, "Oh, it's Abbi, she's in my art..." my heart sank as I witnessed a boy I barely knew, named Seth, walk up and kiss Abbi on the lips.

Oh, boo fucking hoo. Get over the fact that she has a life outside of your crush on her.

"James?" Davis said, but by that point his voice was a faint echo in the darkness my mind instantaneously lost itself in. I felt like after a life of numbness I was finally about to truly feel warmth for the first time only to have it all taken away in an instant, leaving me hopeless in the shadows, alone once again.

Cry me a goddamn river.

You angsty pretentious idiot.

Don’t give me angsty word salad about how sad this makes you, I don’t actually care at all.

I looked down at my knees feeling as if I lost all muscle control in my neck.

That isn’t a thing that happens ever when someone is upset.

"Are... you ok?" Davis asked. I responded with hesitation "...I'm... just stupid."

You spoke to her once, you fucking dumbass.

"No you're not. You're one of the coolest guys I know!" Davis replied. I continued my silence as he offered words of encouragement. "Okie dokie, well, you're awesome and should be super happy so if you want to talk, I'm your buddy so... so I'm here to talk."

That’s uh, nice of him.

But the way he’s talking sounds like... almost mechanical? All he’s done since he was introduced has been compliment James.

I was too focused on the con- flict raging in my mind to hear anyone at that point. I couldn't think about anything but Seth kissing Abbi the entire trip home.

Oh, get the fuck over it.

That night my mom was literally just serving lentil beans she prepared on her crock-pot for the billionth time, a fair exaggeration but still, it was excessive to say the least. My sister was behaving as she usually did at the dinner table, talking about how stupid she thought school was and how she couldn't wait for college. "How was work mom?"

I mean, I’m also tired of high school. I’m really done with judge-y teenagers.

I asked trying to keep my mind off the haunting images looping in my mind.

YOU HAVE HAD ONE FUCKING CONVERSATION WITH HER. CRY ME A FUCKING RIVER, YOU BITCH.

Any normal person would express disappointment over the fact that a person they like has a boyfriend or girlfriend or partner in general, not go into a damn depression about it.

"Well, no one at work respects me or listens to me and I generally can't stand it, but you know, we still have food on the table" she said in a stern tone.

That

That is weirdly passive aggressive and mechanical.

My sister barked as food flew out of her mouth, "Well at least it's not high school. I'm learning how to be a successful person from a bunch of low-income losers."

Oh, I guess bitching runs in the family.

My mom replied "Whatever your teachers are, they have full-time jobs, which is more than a lot of people can say." My mom gave my sister Lisa a disap- pointed look. Lisa was well known for showing little respect for hard-working people. To her it didn't matter how much you gave back to society, it only mattered how much money you made.

That’s a very black and white way to look at things.

After the rerun of lentil soup I washed the dishes per my mom's orders and headed to the shower. I sat on the floor of the tub thinking about Abbi, barely feeling the water as it hit my chest.

Sat on the floor... while water hits your chest? Are you like sitting with your back arched so the water can hit your chest?

This imagery is so odd.

I was so consumed with what I had seen that I had completely forgotten the note until that moment. I quickly reached over to my pants resting on the toilette.

Why the fuck did you spell toilet like that?

That’s literally the word for ‘toilet’ but in French. It isn’t a spelling used in English. It just makes you sound even more pretentious.

Also, he reached over to the toilet to grab the note from his pants while he’s in the shower?

It’s gonna get wet, you idiot.

I had hoped I read it wrong the first time and that it would make sense with a second look only to see it read exactly what I gathered in my initial passing glance. "NISEONE"

I fucking hate you, Onion.

This literally looks like you scrambled your screen name up.

Die.

In a fire.

I mumbled to myself. I joked with the idea in my head that she handed me the wrong note but still assumed it wasn't a failed attempt to say "Nice one," which could be taken as a compliment if you were desperate enough.

That joke, while just a little funnier, is still fucking lame.

Seconds into looking at the note my eyes widened, having figured out what it meant, I jumped up slipping to my feet and screamed "YEAH!!!" I had cracked it, only to immediately after feel completely stupid for not having figured it out sooner.

I’m just done functioning.

My mom screamed through the door from her bedroom "WHAT?" I responded "Sorry! Nothing!" I hurried to finish showering.

I’d just assume he got really into jerking off.

I’ll see myself out.

Staring at my phone wearing only a towel, I smiled as I typed in "NISEONE" or "647-3663" into the number keys.

That is the most cryptic and strange way to give someone your phone number.

I assumed we shared the same area code otherwise she likely would have given me a longer sequence of letters and I was right. After two rings I got an answer.
"What do you want?" a disgruntled man's voice asked.

This... This girl gave this guy a home phone number?

I guess that’s fine since this is probably set in the early 2000′s, but it’s still odd.

Like a bad engine struggling to start in a monster movie I clumsily belted out a response "I... uh... I was looking for..." An unenthusiastic female voice in the background said, "Give me the phone." "Whatever" he said dropping phone in front of her.

James can apparently see through the phone, or he wouldn’t know that probably Abbi’s dad did this.

"Hello?" I could recognize the voice now it was Abbi.

Trying to hide my excitement by maintaining a normal tone I said, "This is James." Abbi excitedly screamed

Like how girls screamed in Disney Channel shows?

That’s ridiculous.

and responded "Oh my god you figured it out!" Hearing her optimistic tone I laughed saying, "So... why..." She interrupted. "I was hoping to find out if you figured out what you're bringing to art class."

Why the hell didn’t you just fucking ask? Or give him your regular phone number? This is just unnecessarily complicated.

I said "Oh!" and looked quickly around my room. I couldn't see anything immediately so I just said, "I'll... surprise you!" She then replied "Oh come on, tell me." My eyes locked on to a plausible item for the project. "How about my... bear... I'll bring my bear!"

You’re okay with destroying a teddy bear? Okay, I guess.

I said. She replied "Oh, ok, oh! I have an idea. Instead of the cage, I'll bring in a stuffed animal of mine and we'll make like, a zombie bear."

Sounds fine.

I don’t care.

You guys are fucking boring.

I laughed "Awesome" I said. "Ok, I'll see you tomorrow ok?" she replied happily. I answered "Ok, byeee."

I would appreciate it if you would fuck off.

I can’t believe this shit is on GoodReads.

Just before she hung up I could still hear her laughing, leaving me with a sense of accomplishment and a lasting smile as if it were painted across my face.

That’s the end of chapter one?

Oh god, okay.

That was.

Terrible.

The characters are bland and flavorless and I cannot get attached to any of them. I can already tell I’m going to completely despise this.

I’ll see you next time. I need to go think about my life.

~Kat

[featherquillpen]

Unreliable Narrators in Animorphs

After listening to @serpentcast‘s excellent episode about unreliable narrators, I got to thinking about the rotating first-person narration of the Animorphs books and the ways in which each narrator is unreliable. The hosts of Be the Serpent talked about three types of unreliable narrators: ones that are deliberately lying to you, ones that are lying to themselves, and ones that are just too ignorant to tell you the truth. I think we see all three types in the Animorphs series. So here are my takes, in rough order from most reliable narrator to least reliable.

Rachel

Rachel is the most reliable narrator of the six because her way of dealing with the brutality of war and her ever deeper entanglement in it is to be brutally honest with herself. She never shies away from the increasing darkness in herself, nor from exactly how fucked up the world around her has become. She knows exactly what she is, how she got there, why she hates it, and why she can’t stop. Nor is she oblivious like Ax – she can clearly see the changes in her teammates and her family, and isn’t afraid to point them out.

She’s also much more reliable about aspects of the war the other Animorphs tend to refuse to see. For example, all the other Animorphs except Ax tend to idealize Cassie as a moral compass, including Cassie herself to some degree. Rachel is able to see through it, though, as her best friend. In Book 22, she can’t buy into Cassie’s comfortable (self-)deception that her solution for David is merciful, because she’s there for every minute of the two hours it takes for him to become trapped in morph. 

The one thing that Rachel is a seriously unreliable narrator about is Tobias. She thinks of him as a human boy cruelly trapped in hawk form, when in fact he thinks of himself as more hawk than boy. He is quite clear about this, and every other Animorph understands this about him except Rachel. Her unreliable narration about Tobias means that she can’t even fully admit in the text how cruel and monstrous her actions toward him at the beginning of book 33 were.

Cassie

Cassie is mostly a reliable narrator because she’s very perceptive, especially of other people, and she feels a moral obligation to face down the effects of war on people. She believes if she lies to herself about the war, that’s the first step down a dark path. 

Cassie does have a blind spot, though, when it comes to herself. Most of the Animorphs, especially Jake, hold Cassie up as the group’s moral compass, and Cassie herself has bought into that myth to a large degree. She certainly doubts her own moral judgment, and doesn’t think she’s always right. But she does lie to herself about the nobility of her motivations and the consequences of her moral choices. She spent most of book 19 blatantly lying to herself about why she quit the Animorphs, wanting to believe they were less selfish and cowardly than they really were. After book 22, she lies to herself about the mercy of her plan to trap David in morph. And throughout the series she refuses to admit in her narration just how ruthlessly manipulative she is, even as we see evidence on the page over and over again how she uses her empathy and perceptiveness to maneuver people.

I’d like to point out here that Cassie is a notable exception among the Animorphs in that she is actually a reliable narrator about her love interest. If anything, Cassie is a more reliable narrator about Jake than he is about himself.

Jake

Like Cassie, Jake is very clear-eyed and perceptive about his team and about the war. He is able to see some things that nobody else can. He tries, most of the time, to be brutally honest with himself about the war and its effects on people, as Rachel does. But he gets unreliable when it comes to Cassie and himself.

As I said above, Jake idealizes Cassie as his moral compass. He relies on her perspective to make sure he doesn’t go off the rails and make monstrous decisions. So he can’t admit that her compass doesn’t always point true north. If he admitted that she doesn’t have any special insight into what is right or wrong, then he would have to accept just how lost the Animorphs truly are.

But Jake is the most unreliable when it comes to himself. He can’t acknowledge his weaknesses or his strengths. Throughout most of the series, Jake tries to present himself as a normal, dumb jock Everyman kid. But I would strongly argue that even in book 1, Jake is not a normal Everyman kid. He saved Tobias from bullies, which takes uncommon empathy and courage for a middle schooler. He has a passion and insight for military history. He shows real leadership qualities from the very beginning of book 1. It takes a long time for him to talk about himself as anything but a default jock boy, and even then, he thinks of himself as a completely normal boy turned child general.

And then, because of his leadership, Jake can’t show his weaknesses either. Not to the other Animorphs, and to a strong degree, not in his first-person narration. He can’t admit just how much of a weak spot his family is for him. Later in the war, he can’t tell us even in his own narration how much he’s falling apart. We just see it in his actions, not in the way he explains them. To me it is deeply tragic how Jake cannot, not even in his private narration, allow himself to be either special or human.

Tobias

Even more so than Cassie, I think Tobias has the clearest view on the broader societal issues involved in the war. He grew up under the poorest and most miserable circumstances of the Animorphs, and has the downtrodden’s sensitivity to power dynamics. He understands better than anyone how the Sharing takes advantage of people who are outside society. He understands better than anyone just how hard life is going to be for the Hork-Bajir after the war. On these matters, Tobias is both perceptive and honest.

But like Jake, Tobias can never be fully honest about himself or the girl he loves.

As I’ve discussed before, Tobias repeatedly frames Rachel’s issues with violence in terms of his own experiences as a predator. He understands that the hawk’s need to hunt is perfectly natural, and therefore Rachel’s love for the fight must also be natural and necessary. But Tobias is wrong about this. Rachel doesn’t just fight because she has to, but because she gets a terrible dark rush from it. Tobias doesn’t allow himself to see that when he talks about her in his books.

Tobias also cannot be honest with himself with his issues or how much abuse he’s suffered. He tends to downplay how badly his guardians treated him, and how bad his mental health is as a result. It takes him a long time to admit in narration (book 43) that he got trapped in hawk morph at least partly on purpose – early on he just can’t face that truth, because it speaks to just how desperate he was to escape his human life. Again, it’s really tragic how he can’t look at the scars of all the terrible things that have happened to him.

Ax

Ax is a great example of the ignorant type of unreliable narrator. Like Rachel, Ax is not much in the habit of lying to himself the way the other narrators often do. But Ax is not only oblivious, especially of humans but also when it comes to his fellow Andalites; but steeped in military propaganda, polite omissions, and outright lies.

Everyone has lied to Ax about his brother all of his life, including Elfangor himself. So it’s no wonder it takes so long for Ax to talk about him the way he really was – for the longest time, Ax didn’t know any better. Not to mention the wholesale fictions he’s been fed about the war against the Yeerks, what the Yeerks have done, what the Andalites have done, and what the Andalites’ goals are. He believes wholeheartedly in the nobility of his people – until he brutally learns over the course of the series that his people are liars, colonizers, and war criminals who have set out to destroy their enemies and become the galaxy’s police force, whether their control is wanted or no, no matter how many species they have to wipe out to do it. For the first half of the series, almost nothing Ax says about the Andalites or the Yeerks should be taken as fact.

The only thing that Ax consistently lies to himself about is just how loyal he is to his Prince and to Earth as a whole. He does so less and less as the series goes on, but I’d argue that even at the end, joining the Andalite military as a Prince and leaving Earth behind was not actually what was best for him or what he wanted in his hearts of hearts. But he was supposed to want to be back among Andalites again more than on Earth, so he convinced himself that’s what he did want.

Marco

Don’t take anything Marco says at face value. If we accept the framing narrative of the Animorphs series, that these are first-person memoirs the Animorphs are writing for posterity, Marco is definitely, deliberately lying to us.

Marco is the most concerned of all the Animorphs about posterity and how they will be remembered. As he shows in dramatic fashion in book 30, he thinks about how their actions and motivations will be perceived after the war. If his books really are his recordings for posterity, he is definitely lying to make himself seem cooler, suaver, and funnier than he is. He’s trying to make things seem more farcical and less existentially horrifying. He also wants to look like the ruthless, self-confident, cold-blooded tactician that he only sort of is.

And that’s just the stuff he’s deliberately lying to readers about. He’s also lying to himself about so many things. At the beginning, he denigrates and distances himself from Tobias because he doesn’t want to admit how similar they are. Later, he makes Jake seem like more of the dorky boy that he no longer is but Marco wishes he were. He thinks of Cassie as his opposite number, the sappy moralistic idealist, because he wants to believe that there’s some kind of counterbalance to the terrifyingly cold schemes he comes up with.

Marco is such an unreliable narrator when it comes to himself and his family. He won’t own up to how much he had to father his own father, and how much of a toll that took on his psyche. He’s able to tell us the truth that he hates being pitied, but that doesn’t make him any more honest about any of the sad things about him and his life that would make us, the readers, pity him. He lies to himself for book after book that he’s cold-blooded enough to kill his own mother, and it’s only at the moment of crisis that he finally faces the truth that he can’t. He can’t admit how much he’s willing to sacrifice for his dad until it drives him to a moment of desperation and stupidity. He wants so badly to be witty, charming, cold, distant, and empty inside, because that’s the kind of person who could survive the things he has without ever showing it.

[qrhymes]

Tales of Berseria Analysis - Laphicet (Phi)’s and Eizen’s character arcs - Coexistence and Romanticism.

Three and counting.

I don’t have problem with child characters (And when I talk about child characters, I mean genuine child characters, no adults or teenagers looking like children or immortal children or characters that age different and looks like child but in reality are legally adults…they are a complete different subject)…conceptually. I don’t like when they are used as plot devices, I don’t like when they are pointless and I specially dislike when they behave like fucking adults without a motive. 

…Therefore you may suppose that I really like Elise from Xillia 

…and you would be right reader, I love her, she is a great character and Teepo would be the best Tales mascot if not for Rollo…

(…He is a god in comparison with other anime (Videogame) mascots…)

But if you want to have a child character, with clear motives, good development, a meaningful arc, etc. I say go for it, and make it great…and Laphicet (Phi) is indeed great.

First of all, he is adorable, he can cast Indignation and he also is the middle-ground between emotion and reason that the game wants to reach.

If Eleanor is the constant inner-conflict between the ideas, Phi would be their natural coexistence.

Phi starts as blank page, a puppet just referred as Number 2 and a representation of the Malakin subdue for the Abbey, then he is “taken” from Teresa and joins for the party and then…he just start to learn, to grow, to know these flawed people…and even if he cannot understand the totality of each one, he can acknowledge the inner goodness that he sees in each one of them. And in that matter, we as the players get to know a lot more of the cast trough his interaction with him (Eleanor also serves to this purpose but is with Phi that we get to know the best of the party because…). He is an adorable, cute and innocent child and the party, conscientiously or not, TRIES (and I emphasize the tries, because wanting it or not, the Menagerie is still the Menagerie and there is still conflict here, these most notorious been Velvet’s seen him as a replace for her brother, that gets resolve in a really heartwarming scene, I loved that scene… or Rokuro intent to kill him during the encounter with Kurogane) to be the best to him, teaching him, explaining and in reward we, and Phi, have this amazing little insiders for each one of the party members; Velvet’s first redeemable traits are shown us thanks to her interactions with Phi, seen Rokuro and Eizen playing the wiser older brothers is hilarious, Am I right, Rhinostragros? But it also let see us that Rokuro and Eizen have a genuine concern about been good examples for Phi with they “Don’t be like us” and fuck it, some of the first shades to Magilou’s true character are through her interaction with Phi. And in the end he takes the best all of this knowledge and experiences, this great and epic journey, and grows thanks to that travel.

He is the moral compass of these less than perfect people (Eleanor also tries to play this role, although with less success than Phi) and thanks to him we get to know the better of them.

He is also the best developed character in the cast and seen him grow from this helpless and quiet child to this determined badass who will fight for what he thinks is right (And been honest, leaving Magilou’s monologues to Melchior, he has the best scenes in the game)

“Eat my arm! I don’t care just leave me the other one! I need It to clobber the jerk who made my Velvet cry!”)

It is just fucking amazing.

In regard as his ending as Maotelus (And his eventual fate in Zestiria)…Is fitting. This kid that was nourished for this amazing journey with Velvet and the Menagerie, for all of these different experiences, points of views and teachings…He grows assimilating both ideologies and now he stands as the ideal manifestation (With Eleanor been the practical) of the healthy coexistence of reason and emotion…and the literal hope to reach Velvet’s endless and idyllic dream, …it gets the better of me in the same way that Velvet does and it’s just a beautiful ending for Phi’s arc and the game.

And that was the four…Uff…uff…you know what they say about pointless worries…

…MAGIKAZAMAZAMAZAM…

Eizen is awesome; he has the height, the posture, the voice, the long coat, the quotes, the family connections, the dorkiness, the “Perfect Mayhem” one of the most kickass designs of the franchise, his character screams “I’m fucking badass”

…Badass indeed…

…he is also one of the most interesting members of the cast.

Eizen is 1000 years old Malak afflicted for The Reaper’s curse which cause misfortune to the people that surrounds him, he is also a pirate, the second mate of The Aifread’s pirates, who ends joining Velvet quest in order to seek pass through one of the Abbey’s fortress and later for the possibility to find clues of the missing Captain Aifread whose disappearance maybe connected with one of the highest ranks of the Abbey.

Eizen is pirate, a ruthless thief, a man with little regards for the rules of the Abbey or the Kingdom, someone who has no moral compass other than his own convictions, an intrepid and dorkish adventurer who travels the eleven seas for the pure joy of doing it, loyal to his crew, to his captain, and his creed…

Wait a minute…He is still a bad guy, right?…

Let me see, thief? Check. Inclination to punching people? Check. Does business with morally questionable people? Check….oh he is also a second in command of a well knowing pirate crew…double check …then why he still looks like he could be one the good pirate characters in One Piece?…Well because that is the point.

In the same way that One Piece (Or the first Pirates of the Caribbean) explore a heavy romanticize vision of what a pirate is, Eizen is the romanticize vision of what a life led by emotions is. His arc doesn’t deal with themes like obsession or blindness or about losing yourself in your own overwhelming emotions (through there is something like that in regard to his arc during the Zaveid side quest, but is played in a different manner but don’t worry we’ll get there) like Rokuro’s or Velvet’s. No, his arc revolve about why emotions are so important for us and how following our own path, our own believes, is the only way to live our own life to the fullest, and in that regard he is the biggest contrast with the oppressive ways of the Abbey.

Eizen is someone that live adventures with his friends, he travels to exotic places, he doesn’t answer to anyone, a man that values his freewill above anything else and that will not letting that anything or anyone take it away from him, but as I said in the begging he’s not an auto-destructive person nor an anarchist, he plays the role of the lovable rogue (Despite that we actually don’t see much of thesem because the game isn’t about the adventures of Eizen and Benwick in the Van Eltia) with a stoic attitude and tough demeanor but also with a heart of gold a dork and in that regard he is the most enjoyable and funny member of the party (Aside for certain witch)…he is the most open to express his appreciation for the group aside for Phi, maybe, his completely honest fanboy rants about history or relics or just expressing his more pure inner feelings about his ways of life…He is amazing…Live hard and day young, Am I right, Eizen?… but in that regard, how many people have the raw muscle to decide their own fate? But even more important than that. Do you have it, Eizen?

Eizen has a role in the narrative and goal in the game, but they are just little bifurcations in a much greater story about Eizen fighting his own fate.

His natural affinity as an earth Malak, The Reaper curse, the laws of the Abbey, the Malevolence that slowly has started to overcome him and even the event of the game are no more than other rock blocking his way to…well, nothing. Eizen journey is just an endless resistance test that will have an abrupt end (In the context of the life spam of Malikhim/Seraphim), a romantic one for sure, fighting for the sake of the word against a future Lord of Calamity, and later, after becoming a dragon, killed as a way of saving him and putting him to rest of his madness state, but an end after all.

Eizen’s story is one of a man against the world, an endless path which mere travel through him symbolize the quest of men for freedom in his lives…Eizen is the coolest, and he was made to be the coolest, a romantic hero who has been throw it in a cynical story about clashing ideas as one of the idealist and inspirational parts of the emotion side…and again he does amazing in his job.

Part 1: Tales Series Retrospective

Part 2: The Elements of a Wonderfull Game

Part 3: Velvet’s character arc - Blindness and toxicity

Part 4: Rokuro’s and Eleanor’s character arc - Obsession and Conflict.

Part 6: Magilou’s character arc - Contradictions.

[queenlua]

cool stuff i noticed while rereading the script of Inception

I wasn't planning to write this all tonight, but uh, I really love inception y'all.

NOLAN’S WRITERLY FLAWS

Here's a lengthy bit from the original script, which got cut from the movie:

MILES Everybody dreams, Cobb. Architects are supposed to make those dreams real.

COBB That's not what you used to say. You told me that in the real world I'd be building attic conversions and gas stations. You said that if I mastered the dream-share I'd have a whole new way of creating and showing people my creations. You told me it would free me.

Miles looks at Cobb, sad.

MILES And I'm sorry. I was wrong.

COBB No, you weren't. Your vision was a vision of pure creativity. It's where we took it that was wrong.

It's a rare glimpse into a side of Cobb we don't really see in the movie—young, drawn to the idea of pure creation, to all the beautiful high-minded concepts behind this dream-sharing business. You can almost feel Nolan himself, giddy, beneath this—as a creator that's got to be one of the coolest parts of this whole idea of dream-sharing; hell, when I first saw this move in The Year of Our Lord Two Thousand and Ten, I went straight home and started writing some fanfiction, not about any of the characters, but about the intensity of feeling behind sharing dreams, what it would mean to create in that way—

—and it was totally right not to stick it in the film, because though Inception is a beautiful film with beautiful ideas, it's a heist movie at heart, and it has to focus on the pragmatic while giving the lofty beauty of it all a sly wink. The "youthful idealist architect Cobb" only comes across in subtext—a slight lightness in his step during his training sessions with Ariadne, maybe a bit when musing over what would draw the intense and beautiful Mal to him.

Here's another bit—from the scene when Cobb is having his final confrontation with Mal, and she's trying to convince him to stay in limbo with her. I italicized / surrounded with asterisks the bit that got cut:

MAL So certain of your world. Of what's real. Do you think he is- (points at Cobb) Or do you think he's as lost as I was?

COBB I know what's real.

***MAL What are the distinguishing characteristics of a dream? Mutable laws of physics? Tell that to the quantum physicists. Reappearance of the dead? What about heaven and hell? Persecution of the dreamer, the creator, the messiah? They crucified Christ, didn't they?***

COBB I know what's real.

MAL No creeping doubts? Not feeling persecuted, Dom? Chased around the globe by anonymous corporations and police forces? The way the projections persecute the dreamer?

Gosh, that line is just... what? We have this super-emotionally-charged moment, the make-it-or-break-it for Cobb to wrest his way from Mal's grasp, and we're throwing in random references to quantum physics and Christiainty??? It made the cutting board, as it should have.

But what I like about these lines is that they show us Nolan's rough edges—and it's Nolan the goddamn nerd, who loved Star Wars as a kid and talked about The Matrix a lot when talking about this movie and, based on his writing style, I honestly suspect is a little bit of a closet anime nerd. This is a guy who's really jazzed about ideas, who veers on the side of babbling too much about a beloved topic, or just reaaaaally wants that physics reference in there because of the cool parallels with the other ideas. I love it.

He also tends to add awkward touches of melodrama when left to his own devices. A line like "I performed [inception] on my wife and reaped the bitter rewards" gets transformed, with Leo's quiet humanity, into "I knew inception was possible because I did it to her first." Which gets a little into "what the actors brought to the movie", which I'll get into later.

I have a pet theory that what draws people to, say, a favorite author, or a favorite filmographer, is a love for both what they do well and their flaws. I was struck by this when reading a review of the Sea of Fertility tetraology, by my favorite author, and found myself basically agreeing with the review—the only difference was, the shit that drove the reviewer crazy were the things that gripped me in weird ways, that I recognized as flawed but still enjoyed warmly. Mishima's writing is melodramatic and Isao comes across as weirdly robotic and his pretenses at intellectualization come across as strained and confused—those were all things that drew me in deeper.

Which is not an argument against editors, and doing the Actual Right Thing; this is stuff that very rightly made the cutting board. But when it's a tough call for what the right way forward is, Nolan goes a little bit dorky, a little bit melodramatic, and those tiny moments are delectable.

MAKING EMOTIONAL SENSE

Something that struck me, when I rewatched Inception this weekend: Cobb's description of inception on Mal doesn't entirely make sense. It's not quite impossible according to the rules of the script, but it intuitively seems like performing inception in limbo is a very different thing than doing it from within a dream. He refers to having built everything in limbo; why would anything in limbo relate to specific parts of one mind? And it seems like it'd be easier to trace the genesis of the idea when you're right there in limbo with them when they do it, I'd think?

The point isn't whether it makes sense or not—I'm sure nerds on the argument could argue either side—but the point is that you don't even question the mechanics of it when it's described, because it made complete emotional sense. All through the movie, we've been getting hints that something terrible happened, some subtle thing Cobb's got stored away—and when we finally see it, with that choice imagery, oh, lifting the little locked-away top in Mal's home and spinning it—makes you say oh, makes you gasp, brings it together.

I went to a talk once by one of the writers of Lost, and he talked about this concept in the context of the episode "The Constant." Basically (as is tragically typical with Lost), a character's gotten his consciousness stuck in some sort of bizarre time loop, he keeps flashing back for longer and longer periods of time, and he's gonna die if he can't cut out this "simultaneously stuck in two time periods" thing. So a physics-y character says that Desmond needs to contact a "constant", something present in both time periods, so he can "stabilize" his mental state, and who does he call but his ex-girlfriend.

Does that make a goddamn lick of sense? No, not really. But the show'd already gotten us incredibly invested in this relationship between Desmond and Penny, they've been hinting for a while that Penny's been desperately looking for Desmond, and Desmond's love for her is really heart-melting, and they're using a science-y word ("a constant! like gravity's a constant, bro!"), and the feeling of something converging is the thing that really carries the moment. Lost pulled this kind of shit a lot, really, and it explains a lot of the divisiveness of the show. Invariably when I talk to people who liked Lost, they're usually watching for character, and freely confess the plot wasn't even trying to make sense after season two but that's so not the point. If you were focusing on the plot, you were doomed to be disappointed.

I want to spend more time thinking about this—how you construct something that makes "emotional sense." Do it wrong and there's just a gaping plot hole or bizarre deus ex machina that's going to irk everyone watching it. And, to be clear, I actually don't think these sorts of scenes work in spite of the vagueness/implausibility, but because of it—the important thing in Cobb's moment of inception is the beautiful resonance of that spinning top, the important thing in that Lost episode is the feeling that somehow, some way, love can be the thing that grounds you and saves you. Maybe that's the answer, really—you have to earn it in some other way. Lost earned it by pouring so much attention into Desmond's backstory, and his love for Penny, and the brief desperate glances we got into her search for him—to the point where we were yearning for a resolution. Inception did it in a more Nolanesque way, with its wonderful, precise control of exactly what is on the screen at all times—leading to a the confluence of motifs coming together all at once. Cobb repeats "an idea is like a virus", we see Mal's house again, we see the top, and the salt-swept shores of Limbo and the pair of them clinging to each other, all coming together at once.

WHAT LEO BROUGHT TO COBB

I get the sense, reading the script, that Cobb was meant to be a more, uh, "edgy"/dark/moody-teenage-protagonist-esque character than he actually became. There's just touches, here and there, in the script. There's a scene where, in the movie, Arthur sympathetically says, "I know how much you want to go home." In the movie, Arthur's posture is closed-off, and he's staring out a window, and says nothing until Arthur talks again. In the script though, Cobb cuts him off with a sharp "No, you don't." Touchy, tetchy.

Or how about this bit:

Cobb GRABS SAITO AND PUTS HIS HEAD TO THE FLOOR, gun pressed into his cheek. Saito looks into Cobb's eyes--sees he will pull the trigger. Saito BLINKS, looks away in shame. When he NOTICES SOMETHING. And starts LAUGHING.

Oh man, Cobb is so tough, making the tough Japanese businessman look away in shame—

—except, in the movie, at this point Cobb's getting totally desperate, and instead of playing it deadly-cool, he's waving a gun and fucking screaming at Saito, "TELL US WHAT YOU KNOW! TELL US WHAT YOU KNOW NOW!", and Saito performs no "look of shame."

The other instances are more slight and tedious to cite, but—there's moments in the script where Cobb was supposed to hold a broody stare, and instead got flustered and cut into the next topic right off, moments when he's giving cocky grins that turn more poker-face-y in the movie.

It gives you an appreciation for really good actor can do, what they're bringing to the movie—the subtle changes of expression, turns of phrase, ways they hold themselves can change so much of the mood and feel of a character. I don't think of Cobb as like, the Greatest Character Ever, but as an anchor for the movie, he's pretty solid and rather unique—not quite cold-and-aloof-tragic-past type, not quite the hard-edged-bristly-loner type—something more mature, more weathered, more adult. He comes across as a touch more cerebral, a touch more intense, and those touches resonate really well with what's a reasonably cerebral and a very intense movie.

EXPOSITION IS HARD

Inception is an exposition-heavy movie.  I remember it all flowing seamlessly when I first watched it, but on re-watches it does feel like a bit much, and sometimes awkward (Arthur explaining the concept of limbo while in a shouting match with Cobb, urgh).

But it's interesting how much more there is that didn't even make it into the movie—tons more slips of awkward exposition that got cut. For instance, in the script verion of Cobb's visit to France, when he's trying to get the professor to get him an architect, there's a whole conversation that lays out the “what happened between Cobb and Mal” alarmingly baladly:

COBB I know. I thought you could talk to Marie about bringing them on vacation. Somewhere I could meet--

MILES Why would she listen to me?

COBB You were married for twenty years.

MILES She blames me as much as you.

COBB Doesn't she understand that my kids need me?

MILES Yes, she does. We all do. Go back and face the music, Dom. Explain what Mal did.

COBB Be realistic, Stephen. They'd never understand− they'd lock me up and throwaway the key. Or worse.

MILES You think what you're doing now is helping your case?

COBB Lawyers don't pay for themselves.

I'm glad that didn't make the movie—we get the sense that something happened, but we don't know Mal did something, and while it's made obvious Cobb can't go back to America due to a crime, he doesn't drop a line like "lock me up and throw away the key" ick, etc.

Perhaps Nolan deliberately wrote in more exposition than necessary, with the idea he could cut it based on what sort of context the actors could imply with their actions? The trickiest thing with writing exposition, I think, is that whole "the writer already knows everything" bit—how do you determine what people need to know, and when, and how, when you've already got the whole picture and the pieces seem so obvious to you? I've received praise on some of my original fantasy writing for executing well on this sort of thing—but (1) I think it's goddamn impossible to do much fantasy/scifi writing at all without gaining chops in this area; it's the central challenge of the genres, and (2) I think it's easier in a prose setting—you can toss in throwaway words and references more easily, adding texture and feel without actually following up on it, whereas a movie is crunched for time and every word/reference/etc usually has to count, materially advancing the plot and the reader's understanding.