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ourseasone · 18 days ago

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CHAPTER 001 ∘ ∘ ∘ for fuck's sake

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fucking stupid.

as soon as you open your eyes and take in your surroundings, the realization hits you like a ton of bricks: you've been utterly, irredeemably stupid.

the place you're in is unfamiliar and unnerving. a dull ache pulses in your temples, but it's not nearly enough to distract you from the bitter storm of self-recrimination swirling in your head. did you really hand yourself over to potential kidnappers like some naive idiot from a bad thriller movie? as you mentally replay the events that led you here, you can't help but wince at your own idiocy.

stupid, stupid, stupid!

but honestly, could anyone really blame you? could anyone in your position have turned down such a tempting offer ━ a chance to earn an unimaginable amount of money just by playing a few games? you were desperate. hell, desperate doesn't even begin to cover it. you were drowning in debt, with creditors breathing down your neck and no lifeline in sight. the offer had felt like a miracle, a hand reaching out to pull you from the abyss. who wouldn't cling to that?

still, there's a difference between desperation and outright stupidity. and now, you're painfully aware which side you landed on.

the room you're in is massive, disorientingly so. its sheer scale makes you feel like a speck of dust trapped in an enormous void. the walls loom high above, featureless and sterile, painted in some dull, colorless hue that makes the space feel even colder. it's a dormitory of sorts, packed with bunk beds that stretch upward like towers. you count five levels, maybe more, stacked so precariously that you half-expect someone to fall off the top at any moment.

in the center of the room is a massive screen with the number 456. you have no idea what it means, but something about it makes your stomach churn uneasily. your gaze sweeps over the people gathered in the room ━ a sea of strangers dressed in identical green tracksuits.

it's only when you glance down at yourself that you realize you're wearing the same dull green outfit. your fingers brush over a patch sewn onto your chest: 127. your number. the sight of it triggers fragmented memories: leaving your house last night, wearing your usual black tracksuit, and...

your eyes narrow.

did those freaks actually change my clothes?

the thought sends a wave of revulsion crashing over you. it's not just the outfit; they must have taken your personal belongings too. your phone. your wallet. your everything. the implications of that alone make your skin crawl. these people stripped you down ━ literally ━ without your consent, and there's not a damn thing you can do about it.

"fucking hell," you mutter under your breath, running a hand through your hair in frustration.

before you can sink further into spiraling thoughts, a sharp ringing noise jolts you back to reality. a bell. it's been going off for a while now, but you were too preoccupied to notice. the other people around you are stirring, climbing out of their bunks and shuffling toward the center of the room.

you hesitate, your eyes darting across the crowd, searching for even a single familiar face.

nothing.

everywhere you look, there are strangers. hundreds of them, all milling about in the same green tracksuits, each marked with a different number.

you sigh. reluctantly, you slide off your bunk and join the crowd. attracting unnecessary attention doesn't seem like a good idea, and staying put isn't much better.

the moment your feet hit the cold floor, the room's massive doors creak open, and a group of people in red jumpsuits enters. their faces are completely obscured by masks. you instinctively step back, leaning against one of the bunk bed frames as you try to put some distance between yourself and the crowd.

the man at the front of the group speaks first. his voice is low and slightly muffled by the square-shaped mask he wears.

"i would like to extend a hearty welcome to all of you."

you tilt your head, studying the group dressed in red with narrowed eyes. the leader's mask is square, while the others in the back wear circles.

is there some sort of hierarchy here? and why the masks? are they hiding their identities? does that mean you've stumbled into some kind of fucking illegal place?

"everyone here will participate in six different games over six days," the square-masked man continues. "those who win all six games will receive a handsome cash prize."

cash prize. the words send a shiver down your spine. your heart flutters with a strange mix of anticipation and dread.

the room falls into a deathly silence for a brief moment, as everyone exchanges glances with each other.

"excuse me," someone finally spoke up.

your gaze shifted toward the voice. it belonged to a woman ━ number 120, according to the patch on her chest. she stepped forward with a confident air, but your sharp eyes caught the subtle tremble in her hands.

"you said we'd be playing games," she said, her voice steady but edged with steel. "but you practically kidnapped us. how can we trust you?"

it was a valid question, and one you had been wondering yourself. you didn't even know where you were, let alone who brought you here.

"i apologize," the masked replied. "please understand that it was necessary to maintain the game's security."

before you could even process that flimsy excuse, the room erupted into chaos. voices rose in a cacophony of anger and confusion as the crowd began hurling questions and accusations at the masked figures.

"what's with the masks, then? is your face a secret too?"

"yeah! why are you hiding your identity? are we in some kind of illegal gambling house?"

"even dealers don't cover their faces like this!"

you didn't bother adding to the noise. you doubted you'd get any real answers, and besides, you were too busy sorting through your own thoughts. still, you listened carefully, hoping someone else's questions might align with your own.

eventually, the masked man managed to regain control of the room.

"to ensure fair gameplay and confidentiality, it is our policy not to reveal the faces and identities of staff," he said. "please understand."

you rolled your eyes. the vagueness of that explanation was almost insulting.

"did you take my clothes and put these on me?" another girl piped up.

"what's with these shoes?" a guy said. "my shoes are limited fucking edition. they're hard to find! you going to replace them if they get ruined?"

you weren't sure whether to be amused or deeply concerned.

"these don't fit, and the color sucks," the girl grumbled. "can i just have what you're wearing instead? i like pink."

this time, you were genuinely amused by the absurdity of her complaints, and the person next to you shot you a weird look when you stifled a laugh.

"i'm sorry, but that is not possible. you must be in your uniforms for the games," replied the square guy, his tone flat and unyielding.

as the conversation moved on without you, you allowed your thoughts to wander, sinking deeper into the chaos in your head.

if you really thought about it, maybe this whole game thing wasn't some elaborate scam after all. maybe it was real. the rules, the setup, the masked figures ━ it all seemed ludicrous, but wasn't that the point of reality shows? the absurdity, the spectacle?

could it be something like the ddakji game you played with that strange man on the subway? granted, that had been straightforward ━ nothing more than flipping tiles and enduring a slap. this, however, seemed infinitely more intricate.

but still, it couldn't be anything that bad, right? it's not like someone was going to die or anything.

you pressed your lips together as doubt gnawed at the edges of your thoughts. then again, if something sounded too good to be true, it probably was.

not that it mattered to you. you needed the money. no, needed didn't even cover it. you were drowning, suffocating under a mountain of debt. you'd run out of options long ago, and these games ━ whatever they were ━ had shown up like a beacon in the night.

six games. just six. that's what the masked man had said. how hard could it be?

you snapped back to reality as the masked man's voice echoed through the room, pulling you from the haze of your thoughts. at first, you thought you'd misheard the announcement, that your mind was playing tricks on you, twisting words in a desperate attempt to distract you from the absurdity of your surroundings.

"player 333, lee myeong-gi."

you froze. no. it couldn't be. there had to be hundreds of people in south korea with that name. thousands, maybe. yeah, it was a coincidence. just a cruel coincidence. it had to be.

but the faint hope you clung to crumbled as quickly as it had formed. the square-masked guy gestured toward the massive screen at the center of the room. the lights dimmed slightly, and your breath hitched when the screen lit up with a video.

the grainy footage played in full view of everyone.

your ex-boyfriend ━ the one you'd broken up with just a few months ago, cut all ties with, and tried to erase completely from your life ━ was on the screen, getting slapped across the face with an almost comical force. the sound of the slap echoed louder than it should have, reverberating in your ears like a twisted mockery.

for a split second, you thought you might laugh at the absurdity of it all, but the laughter caught in your throat, choking you.

of all people in the world, it had to be him? and of all places, it had to be here?

you clenched your jaw, a silent scream ricocheting through your mind. you had no idea how to process what you were feeling. anger? disbelief? a nauseating mix of both?

the universe wasn't just mocking you ━ it was toying with you. what were the odds? your hands curled into fists at your sides as you glared at the screen, trying to will it away.

more videos flashed onto the screen, showing other participants getting slapped, but you barely registered them. you prayed, prayed, that your own face wouldn't appear next. it wasn't just about avoiding humiliation, though that was a large part of it. the real terror clawing at your chest was the thought of myeong-gi spotting you here, in this hellhole of a situation.

to your immense relief, your face never appeared on the screen. maybe the universe didn't hate you entirely.

"all of you in this room have crippling debts and are now on a cliff-edge. when we first came to you, you did not trust us either," the masked man continued. "but as you know, we played a game and gave you money as promised. and so you trusted us and volunteered to participate according to your own free will."

you exhaled sharply, your patience wearing thin.

"tou have one last chance to decide. do you want to live like a piece of trash, running from creditors? or will you seize the last opportunity we are offering?"

the logic was irrefutable. what else could you do? this was your last shot at digging yourself out of the bottomless pit of your life. the alternative was to crawl back into the misery you'd come from. that wasn't living ━ it was surviving. and you were tired of surviving.

the lights dimmed again, and the room filled with whispers of confusion as a mechanical hum descended from above. you glanced up and blinked in disbelief as a massive piggy bank was lowered from the ceiling. suspended in midair, its glossy surface gleamed under the fluorescent lights.

"what the hell?" you muttered to yourself.

a piggy bank?

"what you see now is the piggy bank where your valuable prize money will be stored," the masked man explained. "after each of the six games you will play, the prize money will accumulate in this piggy bank."

you stared at the giant pig, your thoughts racing.

how much money are we even talking about here?

someone beat you to the question. "how much is the prize money?"

you straightened slightly, trying to appear indifferent as you shoved your hands into your pockets. but your ears were tuned to every word, your heart pounding in anticipation.

"the prize money for the games is 45.6 billion won in total."

your breath caught, and your lips parted as the number settled in your brain. 45.6 billion won?

"holy shit..." you murmured under your breath.

your mind reeled, struggling to process the sheer enormity of it. that wasn't just life changing ━ it was life shattering. it was enough to erase every ounce of debt you had and still live comfortably for the rest of your days.

"and one of us will get it?" the guy from earlier pressed.

"we will give you the details about the distribution of the prize money after the first game. for these games, you will be given a special new advantage."

"what is it?" an elderly man asked.

"after each game, you will be given a chance to vote on whether to continue the games or not. if the majority votes to stop the games, you can leave with the prize money accumulated up to that point."

you rolled your eyes. quit now, when there's that much money at stake? who in their right mind would even consider that?

"are you saying," someone speaks up again, "we'll still receive the money, even if we leave after the first game?"

the square-masked man is silent for a moment before finally responding. "that is correct."

what happens next, you have no fucking idea.

the number burns into your brain, larger than life and impossible to fully comprehend. if you win the six, that staggering amount of money would be yours. 45.6 billion.

it was life-altering on a scale you couldn't wrap your head around. your hands instinctively tighten in your pockets as you fight the urge to fidget. it's insane. completely absurd. yet here it is, dangling in front of you like a glimmering prize at the end of a dark and twisted tunnel.

your thoughts drift to the game that had brought you here ━ the bizarre ddakji match with the man in the suit on the subway. that had been pretty easy, almost laughably so. a simple flip of a folded paper tile. you were only slapped twice. could the games here really be just as simple? just six games, and all your suffering, all your debts, all your problems would evaporate like smoke.

it's too good to be true. you know that. deep down, in the rational part of your mind, you know this entire setup is shady as hell. the masked organizers, the strange location, the sheer amount of money ━ it all screams danger. but what choice do you have? your desperation outweighs your doubt.

if things get too complicated... maybe you'll think about quitting. maybe.

a sudden shuffle of movement breaks your reverie, and you blink, snapping back to the present. you realize, with a jolt of mild panic, that all the participants have lined up in seven orderly rows. your stomach churns as you glance around, trying to piece together what you missed.

damn it, when had they given instructions?

swallowing your unease, you decide to play along. you quickly step into the second row, adopting an air of indifference to mask your confusion. hopefully, no one notices you're completely clueless.

when your turn finally comes, you step forward. the masked person standing before you is silent, their posture unnervingly still. they hand you a piece of paper without a word. your gaze drops to the document, your eyes scanning the text.

▍ PLAYER CONSENT FORM : O1. a player's not allowed to voluntarily quit the games. O2. a player who refuses to play will be eliminated. O3. the games may be terminated upon a majority vote. in case of a tie, players will vote again. O4. if the games are terminated, players will divide the prize equally.

the rules are simple, concise, and far too ominous for your liking. the word 'eliminated' stands out like a glaring red flag, but you force yourself not to dwell on it.

you exhale slowly, your breath barely audible, before picking up the pen lying next to the form. your hand hovers for a brief moment, but it's not hesitation. you've made up your mind already. without overthinking it, you scrawl your signature at the bottom of the page, sealing your fate.

whatever you're signing up for, it can't be worse than the life you're already living.

you'd planned to head back to your bed after this. all the endless talking had worn you out. all you want now is to collapse onto your bed and let the weight of the day fade into nothing.

but, of course, life never goes according to plan.

a scream echoes through the room, and you turn your head to find the source ━ standing in the center of the commotion, flushed with equal parts embarrassment and irritation, is none other than your ex-boyfriend.

you only stare. you’ve got to be kidding me.

the man is mid-argument with another participant. from what you can gather, myeong-gi seems to be getting scolded, though the exact reason escapes you. you sigh, dragging a hand down your face as frustration bubbles to the surface.

of course. of course, it's him.

"for fuck's sake," you mutter, shaking your head as you turn away from the scene.

you're too tired to deal with this right now.

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note ∘ ∘ ∘ for obvious reasons, in this book, myeong-gi is not the one who got my girl junhee pregnant. i just don't have the energy to craft an elaborate storyline around those circumstances.

taglist ∘ ∘ ∘ @suunani @academiq @startaegi @okaycharr @mayaswrld1212 (please let me know if you wanna be added!)

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stars-in-a-jam-jar · 2 months ago

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I'm seeing a notable handful of posts in the Amazing Digital Circus tag disagreeing on Gangle's character and I think the big thing about the difference in perspective is really just: How seriously are thou as an audience member taking the 'minimum wage job for a day' premise? (I will singlehandedly re-introduce 'thou' into the english lexicon you watch me, it's so much better than the general-you)

In a world where this is meant to be treated like a shitty little game, Gangle's behaviour in response to Jax misbehaving is really kind of unacceptable. Ragatha's more fucked up by the Stupid Sauce that Caine somehow decided was a good idea to include than she is by the dump in the deep fryer, Gangle did not need to threaten Jax with "horrible punishment" from the most powerful thing in their lives over what amounts to general disrespect and a minor inconvenience. Mr. Orbzman is an NPC and not a person, Jax shouldn't have to hold his tongue about it like he would at a real job where the customers are real people with real feelings. Pomni's feelings over and attachment to Gummigoo are more important than being a good little cashier and playing the game properly. Gangle putting Jax on cleaning duty for the bathrooms when they 'look like a biohazard' is absurd and demeaning because it's a long established fact that this is a digital world where bio-anything is completely meaningless, and she's just making him do unpleasant shit for no reason other than she wants it done and she wants him doing it. And her responding to his continued refusal to play along by locking him in an isolated room, strapping him to a chair, and Doing A Brainwashing To Him is Fucking Horrifying and borderline irredeemable.

Also: "If you have time to lean, you have time to clean." Is frankly an evil thing to say.

But in a world where this is a situation with real stakes, where failure or success in this endeavor Means Something, where Jax dumping Ragatha in the fryer is something that is hurtful and disruptive and unnecessarily cruel, where Jax refusing to keep his mouth shut until he's on break and out of earshot of the customers makes the day of the person he's badmouthing worse and might result in penalties from people above their heads, where Pomni leaving her post to try and talk to Gummigoo is both actively letting down her coworkers who are relying on her to do the job she's been assigned and an imposition on Gummigoo because They Are Strangers Now and there is no taking him back to the circus with her, where Gangle has been trusted with a position of responsibility and authority which has knock on effects for everyone beneath her and Jax won't even clean out the stupid bathrooms when they need cleaning— in that situation, Gangle's very manic and high strung about it and perhaps crosses a line with the whole 'summarily breaking Jax's spirit complete with a horror movie reference' thing, but She's Still Right.

Jax needed an attitude adjustment and nothing was working, so she goes a little nuclear on him. Pomni shouldn't be piling all this emotional baggage on someone who, right now, is a random customer. Gangle's very gentle with Ragatha when she's clearly out of it because she understands something is causing Ragatha to behave loopy and out of character, and in response, Ragatha says the colorful thoughtful gift that's been keeping Gangle together and allowing her to independently function at a level she's usually not capable of makes her annoying!!!

That's somehow so much worse than Jax saying he likes her better sad??? Because at least with Jax, he's expressing his displeasure at being ordered around by someone he previously called "submissive and agreeable" and not having any control over this situation. Ragatha's just saying something mean after telling Gangle she doesn't need help (she does) and thinks she could do a better job as shift manager (she has no proof of this).

And regardless of how seriously thou as the audience member are taking it and why, Gangle is taking it Incredibly Seriously. She is on 'If you die in the game, you die in real life' levels of emotional investment, this is all So Real to her, and anytime the others treat it like it's dumb and useless and hollow, it kicks up So Much Distress within her for reasons I'm gonna trust you guys to think on. And thou might think that is a detriment to her character in and of itself, or thou might be more endeared to her by it, but that is what's happening. So basically the reason some of y'all are coming out of this episode liking Gangle less and some are coming out adoring her is mostly dependent on if you personally are predisposed to take her side by taking the Hard Day's Work At Spudsy's Family Diner seriously.

#tadc #the amazing digital circus #tadc gangle #tadc analysis #the amazing digital circus spoilers #tadc spoilers #tadc spudsys #pomni #tadc pomni #jax #tadc jax #tadc ragatha #jammering on

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joannerowling · 22 days ago

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It’s fascinating how JKR saying women/girls are oppressed based on our sex is enough to retroactively render everything she’s ever written irredeemably evil forever, but when Neil Gaiman is outed as a serial rapist, suddenly the discussion becomes “we should acknowledge that bad people can make really really really good art too!!!!” Being male must be a fucking trip.

Literally, and that post is still full of people tagging or commenting something like, "okAy bUt jK rOwLinG AckSHUlLy iS a BaD wRItEr!"

Like full disclosure my position on this subject is that the only reason you should not read a book is if you don't enjoy it; after that, if you want to add some criteria, like if you think the author's a "bad person" you don't wanna give money to or read what they have to say, it's between you and your god isn't it? And i don't think someone writing about dark issues or even disturbing things like Gaiman did is NECESSARY a sign that the writer is secretly a deranged sexual pervert who has hurt real people.

But the immediate respect and leniency accorded to Gaiman is so blatant, contrasted with the scorn JK Rowling has received for merely voicing an opinion. People hated her so much they bonded over it. They did not hesitate to play stupid with her books, on purpose, until they believed whole-heartedly in their own stupidity in order to convince others. And those who didn't buy the "goblins are actually just like Jews because they're BANKERS so JKR is ANTISEMITIC" piss poor takes kept it to themselves and just played along because they were too fucking scared of being ostracised. Misogyny is a plague.

#replies #anon

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olderthannetfic · 3 months ago

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Im neither a proshipper nor an anti at this current stage in life, but at one point i was an anti i guess? And I hate it say it, but looking back, I understand why. I don't think I actually gave a fuck about Harmful Fanfic or whatever, it was just a substitute for therapy that i couldn't get at the time (because "literally neurodivergent and a minor" or whatever, but like...actually literally neurodivergent and a minor LOL).

As weird as it sounds like, no one cared about my ACTUAL PAIN, and that made me feel EVEN MORE PAIN, so i took it out on ppl who shipped "abuse", or whatever.

It's so stupid now, as an adult who is mentally better than I was then, but as ridiculous as it was, seeing someone ship an "abusive" ship or a "queer erasing ship" (like a canonically gay character with someone of the other binary gender)...it felt eerily similar to the actual abuse I was facing and the stress that everyone was putting on me to find a boyfriend or ask why my (closeted lesbian) self didn't like any boys.

But it was so much easier to keyboard warrior about how people who ship Bad things are Bad people, than it was to fix any problems in my actual life because...well, the actual problems in my life COULDN'T be fixed. That isn't a learned helplessness thing, there was genuinely nothing I could've done. So pissing off Shippers was, like, a vessel for that, and it *felt* like I was getting to lash out at the same people who were ACTUALLY hurting me, even though that obviously is not the case. Funny thing is, it wasn't actual fandom discourse that made me switch sides, it was getting to learn more about youth liberation movements and stuff, because it was then that I recognized the actual structures that were making me hurt.

I think one silver lining is it's made me more compassionate an adult. While I don't have any defense for the antis who do actual horrendous stuff like doxxing or sending death/rape threats, etc, I do have a lot of defense for the ones who were like me and would just make posts talking about how Wrong it is to ship certain things. I know that not all antis are in the same place that I was once was, and some are just genuinely immature brats, but it's like. . . I get it, you know?

The cycle of abuse/bullying is weird and it's not often a 1:1 "I had an abusive parent so now i'll be an abusive parent", sometimes it's the chronically online stuff like I did. It's also why I'm careful-careful to not engage and to just block or, even try to have a mature discussion if I can, and if the person I'm talking to is just "a little bit annoying" rather than "actual bully doing/sending illegal stuff". A lot of them just want to be heard, I think, and it really makes me sad that this is the way they choose to be heard...but also i get it, because i was that.

Yup. We often discuss anti tendencies in this framework.

People want control over their environment when they have none. They want the world to make sense and for there to be simple rules they can follow to Never Mess Up. This is a very common reaction to trauma and also typical of brains that like order and neat boxes and a world full of justice and logic.

The trouble is that a critical mass of "I'm just pointing this out" type posts does tend to make all the other teens with an issue around moral scrupulosity implode. (And let's be real, plenty of the antis themselves are secretly into dark content and are trying to pray the gay kink away.)

I have some sympathy, but I'm still going to tell people they're sealioning when they are and tell them they're flat out wrong about how fantasies work, not sugar coat it because they're probably a delicate teen. There's no need to be excessively mean or treat people as irredeemable, but I also don't like how we talk endlessly about compassion for teen antis and not for teens targeted by antis. It's similar to how there are all those complaints like "Hey, I work hard to manage my mental illness, but all the support seems to go to people who are letting their issues rampage..."

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annabelle--cane · 11 months ago

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I got into tma in 2022 on a road trip with no internet and then only tangentially interacted with the fandom (light hcs, fanart) and I am. so compelled to understand what the fandom was like in 2020. what were the takes. why was it so awful. does it explain why every time I try to look into protocol I get a rancid Vibe and jump back 5 feet.

to preface: on scale, it really wasn't any worse than your average fandom, it just A) got Very popular over a short period and B) that period was during a time of particularly high stress where many people suddenly could only experience a social life online. tma is also a fairly political and progressive work, which inevitably leads to certain kinds of Takes. it also got Very popular right at the point where the episodes were reaching their peak of explicit social commentary and sustained morbid tone, which, especially combined with point B from above, drew out some really visceral reactions from a lot of people. nothing was actually inherently rancid about 2020-2021 tma fandom, there was just a bit of a perfect storm of factors.

having said that. some common discourse themes:

the perennial shipping discourse. georgie is the only one of our leads to have never killed a person, but really, I pinky promise that your ship between two unrepentant serial killers is 100x more problematic than my ship between two unrepentant serial killers.

asexuality: how dangerous is it? on a scale of 1-5, with 1 being "mostly" to 5 being "completely," how humiliating is it to be asexual? what is the singular true asexual experience that is unproblematic to write about?

wow, jonny was so out of line for writing this episode, what gives him the right to--oh he said it's directly based on personal experiences? so sorry, my bad, I'll learn for next time. wow, jonny was so out of line for writing this epi--

I did not like this episode. this is obviously a direct act of violence against me. why would an episode be Not Good when there is, in the world, Sadness?

hello, I have sorted all of the characters into a simple chart that clearly delineates which of them are completely irredeemable monsters with no interiority or motives and which of them are perfect angel victims who have only ever been nice and never hurt anyone, ever (and if they did hurt someone then that person deserved it). if I see you adding nuance to any of my rulings, I will kill you. this also extends to the podcast writers. #ilovebinaries.

the characters... are queer... and maybe even other marginalized identities as well... and yet, they do bad things? there's not even a single completely morally innocent character? by god, did they not think about the implications this might have!

web!martin. lol people are so stupid for thinking that the theory is at all plausible, media comprehension much? that would lichrally imply that a queer, poor, mentally ill character might be capable of badness. what do you mean we are currently listening to an arc where he's an accomplice to serial murder.

#transmasc-wizard #answered #tma

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balanceoflightanddark · 3 months ago

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Azula and Responsibility

Should Azula take responsibility for what she's done? This is a question that the fandom has repeatedly asked in discussions about her and the possibility of redemption.

The answer is obviously "yes". Every way you slice it, she wasn't exactly the best person. She hurt her friends, treating them more like soldiers than people. She wasn't the best sister. She did support her father and the Fire Nation's imperialistic cause. If she wants to improve, she ultimately does need to take responsibility. That's not in debate.

What is in debate is "how much"?

There is a difference between "personal responsibility" and "systemic accountability". Personal responsibility is doing what you realistically can for yourself to right wrongs and better yourself. Systemic accountability is when the issue is so huge, it can't be solved by a single person alone or can realistically only be handled by those in power.

Now what does this mean in regards to Azula? Well it means is that while she should take responsibility, it's unfair to expect her to take responsibility for what she had no control over. She should apologize to Ty Lee and Mai for how she treated then. However, she shouldn't be expected to take personal responsibiliy for being indrocinated to believe that mindset of "fear is the only reliable way". At most, she should learn that it's wrong and make amends for that. Not beat herself up for believing it in the first place.

Same thing with Zuko. She does need to work on her end to better their relationship. Yet she can't be expected to do all the heavy lifting on her end when Zuko wasn't the best brother to her either. Should she take some responsibility for her part in the war? Yeah, but it's unfair to bury her with all the crimes her nation and father caused. Even if you want to argue that she was the one who suggested the "burning the Earth Kingdom" plan, it was Ozai who drafted, organized, and implemented it when all she did was bring it up as a possibility.

The thing about responsibility is that it's a double edged sword. You need to know what you're taking responsibility for. If you take too much responsibility for stuff you had absolutely no control over, you're creating this mountain of guilt and crimes. Eventually it becomes insurmountable and you end up being burnt out and feeling like an irredeemable piece of shit. Which is what Azula already feels like. She feels she's a monster that can't redeem or change herself. So what's forcing her to take up so much guilt going to do? Either she's going to double down on her belief, or she's going to do something pretty damn stupid and almost suicidal in some misguided attempt to atone.

And she does know she screwed up. She does know she treated Mai and Ty Lee unfairly. Azula said so herself in the mirror scene. Besides, why else would she at least care about either of them in "The Beach" or try to do right by them? Was it unhealthy and didn't reach the root of the problem. Yes, but at least the intent is there. The problem is that Azula wasn't able to realize that treating your friends like soldiers is inherently toxic. And if we want to get on her case about being a bad sister, she was willing to try and build up bridges with Zuko in Book 3. Multiple times as a matter of fact. It's just that Zuko's resentment and experiences in the Earth Kingdom changed him that it just wasn't feasible.

It's not that Azula shouldn't take responsibility for what she's done. She should, and obviously is willing to. It's more of a question when enough is enough. Where should she draw the line when taking too much responsibility?

#azula #princess azula #atla #avatar the last airbender #azula meta #azula deserved better

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