#moral of the story: never try to out-jigsaw jigsaw

[shittysawtraps]

almost made a post saying “i could survive a saw trap, i’m built different,” but then i remembered that bobby dagen said that and john’s reaction was to say “oh this’ll be so fucking funny” before calling him on his shit

[motheroftheantichrist]

Hear me out...

I think if they really wanted to make Hoffman's decent into madness in Saw VII actually mean something they should have given Strahm a sister (not for some weird forced romance, I promise!).

She's mentioned, maybe seen, once or twice in Saw IV and V, but not important until Saw VI. She knows her brother wasn't Jigsaw. Maybe she finds his notes or something and realizes that Jigsaw is Hoffman, and therefore he must have killed Strahm as well and is determined to avenge her brother.

She isn't FBI, so when Hoffman slaughters the department in Saw VI, she isn't killed. Saw VII is then a face-off between two already established characters with real stakes in the plot rather than Hoffman vs. Some Random Guy.

But how does this effect Hoffman's story?

He's now essentially fighting himself. At first he's trying not to see Angelina in the traumatized brunette whose older brother was an ethically questionable law enforcement figure. But now all he can see is himself in the guilt-ridden survivor who couldn't protect their sibling from a horrific death and are now tearing their own life apart for bloody vengeance. Even worse, he realizes he is the Seth Baxter in this story. Through his work as Jigsaw, he's become the very person who drove him to this.

He can no longer deny that he is changed, and that he is the villain in this story. He is literally trying to kill himself.

With this backdrop his sudden disregard for all previous morals makes a bit more sense, while also providing a much more interesting opponent than some random detective who had never been previously mentioned. There's room for many more parallels, and a chance to dig much deeper into Hoffman's psyche as well as his memories of Angelina. This would allow him to keep the vibe of 'tragic villain' that really doesn't last beyond Saw V.

[erraticalart]

Saw Fortress II

Well, is this what you've been waiting for?

So, as some of you may or may not know, Saw is getting a new movie, Saw X, in two days and I'm so excited for it to come out! I decided to pay tribute to this movie by making a crossover between Saw and, of course, Team Fortress 2. I've been getting interested and invested in the Saw franchise, from its story to the characters and especially the creative but deadly traps. Took me about 22 days to create as I had classes and needed to take breaks every once in a while, but I finally finished it and presented it to my brother as a birthday gift (as well as an official Fallout cookbook).

Now, for the fans of both Saw and TF2, I'll explain the reason why I chose the characters and their designated roles. It's time to play a game.

Character Comparison and Roles

Warning: Spoilers for the Saw franchise

RED Engineer: John Kramer aka Jigsaw - Well it's pretty much obvious why. They're both engineers. They both are talented in creating many different unique contraptions that are beneficial, but deadly and dangerous. Engie also has his morals, although it's way different from John's. Let's not forget that Engie can be somewhat a little sadistic and loves seeing his enemies go down, although John hates sadistic people despite the irony in his traps. Also, are we gonna ignore his Gunslinger taunt kill and his sinister, evil laugh? I'm not sure if Engie should have the Gunslinger with him, but I think it would be pretty cool to have it on him. Maybe in this version when he attempts to commit suicide and fails, but all he's left is a completely maimed hand, he cuts it off entirely and replaces it. It would be a pretty cool backstory as to why he has it and would make a really cool reveal to show to the audience. I wonder what Engie sounds like saying the iconic line "Game Over"?

BLU Medic: Dr. Lawrence Gordon - It's also pretty obvious why. He's a doctor. (Can you guess the reference?) Dr. Gordon is my favorite character in the series, and I love seeing the change and progress in his character from a doctor and trap victim in the first Saw film to John's favorable accomplice and in his words, "My greatest asset" in Saw 3D/Saw: The Final Chapter/ Saw VII (Yeah, I can't believe that movie has multiple names). In a way, it makes sense to have Medic as Dr. Gordon because just like how it was shown at the end of Saw VII that he and John worked great together, Medic and Engie are also seen working together in Expiration Date as lab partners. They both would work great as an amazing sadistic duo. Also, I think it's kind of cute to have Engie give Medic a prosthetic foot after he too cuts it off entirely. Not only would it make sense because Engie knows a thing or two about prosthetics, but it would show that Medic and Engie both have something in common: cut off what's unnecessary to help with your survival. Medic would also try to justify and reason Engie's actions. Also, I love Dr. Gordon's "Game Over" line, it's soooooo good!!! It's my personal favorite (Of course nothing beats John's iconic classic version). I could totally imagine how great Medic would sound saying that line!

BLU Spy: Detective Lieutenant Mark Hoffman - Ok, this is where things start to get a little interesting. Hoffman became John's accomplice after replicating his ideas and making his own traps that John never made himself. In a way, he's becoming Jigsaw. Just like how Spy can become and replicate any class, Hoffman also became more mysterious and secretive to his fellow colleagues and tried to frame Special Agent Peter Strahm as Jigsaw. In the end, when he gets caught, he goes against everyone and executes them, so the secret never comes out. Also, another reason why Spy is Hoffman and please tell me if I'm not the only one here who thought this when watching Saw: Did anyone else get Hoffman and Strahm mixed up because they almost look like the same person and it's always confusing when there's a scene that focuses on one of them but it's actually the other? I decided to have two Spies in the story with the BLU Spy as Hoffman and the RED Spy as Strahm since they look the same minus the color.

Miss Pauling: Amanda Young - You're probably thinking, "Why her? Is it because she just so happens to be female and I just filled her in that role?" Well yes, but actually no. It's because Amanda was very loyal to John, looking up to him, defending him constantly, and was very close to him. Miss Pauling fits that role when it comes to the Administrator, but here she's loyal to Engie. I feel like she likes Engie the most out of any other class, so she would definitely help him out as well as get advice from him. She also can get shit done when being asked to accomplish a task. Sadly, we know what's to come for Amanda. Just like how in the comics Miss Pauling fails to bring the Australium, Amanda fails in John's tasks as he reveals to her that she's part of another game. I do feel like Miss Pauling was stuck playing around in the Administrator's game and it was also implied that every year the Administrator sends people to assassinate her to see if she succeeds as if it's an employee review. So, yeah, Miss Pauling and Amanda both are stuck in pretty tight situations.

RED Pyro: Billy the Puppet - Ah, yes, who could we ever forget? The main icon of the series. Both Pyro and Billy have terrifying appearances that'll leave you quivering on sleepless nights. I used to fear Billy as a kid, but now I see him as endearing and strangely, but freakishly, adorable. Pyro is freaky-looking, but he's such an adorable bundle of flames. I could definitely imagine seeing Pyro riding on Billy's iconic tricycle. That would be so funny, cute, and scary. As for Pyro's voice, since Billy is voiced by John (and Hoffman, I think? Idk), I'm not sure if Engie (or Spy) should voice Pyro since Pyro speaks in muffles. Maybe they should, idk. I also don't know if Pyro should speak in mumbles from time to time or whether he should have the ability to move and just walk around or just remain seated. And, of course, I don't know if Pyro should do his iconic laugh (maybe sometimes, idk). What I do know however is that Pyro should definitely have the iconic Billy laugh.

RED Balloonicorn/The Combustible Cutie Cosmetic (Yeah, I know it's pink, but it's the RED team's version which is why it's pink): Pighead Mask - Oink! Or in this case, Neigh! The mask that John and his accomplices dress up as with the iconic robe (though I'm not sure if this robe should remain red and black or pink and black, maybe the first option should be for Engie since he's the leader while the accomplices get the latter, or not, maybe they should match Engie, idk). At first, I chose Balloonicorn since it's related to Pyro and I know he'll love seeing everyone dress up as one, but then I remembered that there's a cosmetic for Pyro as a mask called "The Combustible Cutie" that resembles Balloonicorn, and boy does that mask look freaking scary!!! It's really fitting for both Saw and TF2 as a whole! It's pretty funny and scary to imagine getting kidnapped by a herd of pink unicorns all because you've been very naughty.

I hope fans of Saw and Team Fortress 2 enjoy this lovely piece of fanart as this has become one of my all-time favorites to create. I was also listening to the Saw soundtrack specifically the Zepp/Main Saw Themes. My favorite being, of course, "Hello Zepp". It fits Engie and John's character theme even though it's Zepp's (although you can argue that it IS John's since it's his perspective since he's saying hello, which I agree). But my actual favorite is "Zepp Overture" because to me it sounds like a holy church. I especially like the way the string instruments sound. Yeah, I know you can argue that Dr. Gordon has a theme at the end of Saw VII called "Dr. Gordon Montage" and "The Final Zepp" but to me, I think this theme fits Medic the best because, y'know, he replicates that sound by playing an actual saw when you taunt which is both funny and adorable. And it really fits his character to be seen as a holier-than-thou and especially a God. This might also fit Spy, but idk. I'm not sure which themes work for Spy and Miss Pauling or even Pyro (if you want Pyro and Engie to share the same theme, then that's fine by me). I might need to go back and listen to all of them depending on the movies that Hoffman and Amanda appear in. Maybe some of you can suggest one. But anyway, please go listen to the Saw soundtrack, especially the Zepp/Main Saw Themes, it's soooooo good!!! I might as well argue that it's one of, if not, THE best horror themes out there!!!

Here's a link to listen to it while you look at the art or whether you are interested in the Saw series and its music:

Welp, like I said before, I hope you fans enjoy it!!! I just can't' wait for Saw X to come out soon on September 29!!! I just hope and pray the movie is good though. Well, let's just wait and see. But until then,

GAME OVER!

[bellshazes]

I was going to reply on your post about C vs CC distinction but I couldn't, so I hope you don't mind me asking here - my brain wasn't cooperating today so I was struggling to read it and comprehend it properly as written. But does it basically boil down to the fact that it's difficult to create a distinction between what's considered "character" vs "creator" in the digital medium Minecraft offers for storytelling? That there's no real way to draw a distinction between "this PERSON did this in the game" and "this CHARACTER did this in the story's world" because it's told on a platform and in a way that makes it hard to find a non-fuzzy divide, and that we shouldn't necessarily try to find that line anyway? Basically that - when it's so hard to define canon when "canon" is influenced by the person both on and beyond the screen, and interactions between "characters" are often colored by the creators behind them, and when the story being told is never really fully concrete anyway, it's just...better and, honestly, more fun to just enjoy the nondefinable art form for what it is? Because if that's what you're saying, I wholeheartedly agree. ^^

When the story's medium is a sandbox game, it's much more fun to interpret canon and its connected fanon as a sandbox too, something malleable and formable and explorable in a flexible way that doesn't rely on defined boundaries to be enjoyed. It's sand. You can make a solid sandcastle for a while, but eventually the water that packed it together dries and the wind blows and things shift again, because that's what sand does. Just - let sand be sand. :3

(And if I've totally misinterpreted then I apologize, it's been a long day and like I said, my brain's not cooperating hah.)

~ Pixie

I definitely didn't get back to my original point in that rambling reblog, so I think you've gotten what I was trying for up until the idea that the SMP Thing is nondefinable. I really struggle articulating this all the time and people often do take it the way you have, so it's a failure of explanation on my part...

It's not resolvable into a single truth, but currently the dominanf response to that is to throw the baby out with the bathwater and say if there is no canon, everything is equally true no matter what the text says, because the text is as (un)real and unknowable as my own imagination. I comprehend that this is very fun and believe this approach has absolutely no moral valence. often this evolves into annoying (imo!) fandom standards that become quasi-canonical due to sheer popularity in the group sandbox but whatever.

However my patented peter bellshazes perfect world involve not this kind of overwriting being a dominant fandom mode, but people taking the lack of One Single Master Story all other pieces fit into as a joyous invitation to pick apart all the threads on their own and how they relate without forcing them into anything and seeing them more clearly. It's to me like the difference between trying to force jigsaw puzzle pieces to fit that are from different boxes and - I don't know, like a complex 3D sculpture that is one object but portrays different images at every angle its viewed from. And people discovering that instead of taking photographs to find the One True Angle in 2D, walking around to examine the previously unstudied backside.

that's abstract but in practice it means like... idk treating it more like a vivisection. I love taking different perspectives apart as standalones, and also interrelating them, but finding joy and spaces to explore and discuss and feel through in those individual examinations, and not forcing them to make sense in some master truth. It makes me appreciate different approaches to the medium more, how tone and technique contribute beyond C!Cubito Is This Trait or whatever. I like it when people articulate if we think about THIS event and how it was shown in THIS way (in terms of acting/performance, editing, cuts made or not made, ) then the story is like this and what's in the gaps or what if it extended or what would it have looked like if different choices were made from a craft perspective or how does that contrast with or contextualizes a different series or scenario. throwing nothing out but never looking for a grand unified theory of truth.

Again no moral valence but i just feel like maybe if I can articulate my brand of fandom joy people might want to give it a try! and I genuinely appreciate people who care enough to try and parse what the hell I'm getting at bc it's almost always only when I try and answer questions that I feel like I get better at explaining what I was trying to say, so!

[magnus-sm-writes]

Character Intro: Sigma

Sigma | Species: Half-daimon | Sexuality: Gay | Nationality: Hursteyn | Pinterest Board | Playlist | Picrew (ElenaA's Windswept OC Maker)

When it comes to my Uuve characters, I feel like I write for Sigma the most. Sigma is my best friend, my pal, my homeboy, my rotten soldier, my sweet cheese, my good-time boy. I want to wrap him in a blanket like a little sushi. I also want to cause him irreparable harm.

Sigma was originally a villain. When I came up with him as a D&D character, he was a Time Sorcerer who didn’t like getting his hands dirty, so he would put people in situations where they would end up killing themselves through happenstance instead. Very Jigsaw-esque of him. 

He was also on a quest to acquire the hand of Vecna, who was the patron of Katya and also his chosen god of worship. At that point in his journey (level… fifteen, I believe?), he already had Vecna’s eye. As you do.

(I’ve only seen three episodes of Stranger Things, and had no clue Vecna was a villain when I made this decision on a whim in 2020. It turns out my boy Vecna is a pretty major player in a lot of media. I only chose him because I thought he was more interesting than Vlaakith.)

Of course, in true Magnus fashion, I can never write a fully evil character. I love coming up with ideas for evil characters. I even love designing them. If you look at Sigma’s design—all the green, the tailored black clothes, the mysterious eye covered by hair—, all signs point to villain. 

But I just couldn’t. The more I added to Sigma’s backstory, the more I realized he was a scared boy who wanted to gain more power to keep himself from being hurt again. (I used this for Penny instead.)

Over time, Sigma grew from an awful person to a naïve boy who is being manipulated by powers larger than himself. 

BACKSTORY

Sigma grew up in a cult dedicated to a goddess of blood, Bezglaz. He had a very sheltered childhood, as the cult did not often leave their system of underground caves. Despite having grown up under such unusual circumstances, Sigma always felt loved and cared for by his many mothers, and didn’t realize his childhood was so unusual.

Here’s a funny bit: until Sigma met a man for the first time, he thought that there was only one gender you could be. Men fascinated him. They still do. So much so that he decided he wanted to be a man.

When he’s seventeen years old, Sigma is informed that he will have to retrieve an artifact in order to be fully accepted as a member of the blood cult. 

PERSONALITY

In my earlier diatribe, I mentioned that Sigma grew from a terrible person to a much kinder one. He’s seventeen. He’s grown up in a cave system with a strange collection of mother figures and little contact with the world outside of this one. Sigma is very childish in his morals and view of the world. He’s in love with everything around him.

He’s constantly seeking out contact with and affection from other people. Sigma is a very clingy guy and fiercely protective of the people he loves. He’s willing to defend them—and Bezglaz—from any criticism or harm, despite being anemic and physically weak. 

Sigma is devoutly religious to the point of fanaticism. Bezglaz and worshiping her is the basis of his entire world. Nearly everything Sigma does is either in honor of or for her. He doesn’t really understand anything without looking at it through the lens of Bezglaz, and when something doesn’t fit in there, he’s left looking through the pieces to try to understand why. He’s a rare case in the world of Uuve who only believes in one god. That is because he doesn’t know any others exist, but still, it’s notable. 

Honestly, Sigma sounds boring when I’m describing him on paper. Most people don’t find a happy, untraumatized character to be interesting. But he goes through quite a bit of trauma at the end of the story, don’t you worry! He becomes incredibly, horrifically traumatized, leaving him Changed Forever.

But honestly, I find his optimism and joy for the world to be refreshing. Sigma is completely unjaded. He’s so, so happy to be alive, which is my daily philosophy, and so happy to learn about everything around him. 

He loves flowers and anything that grows in the sun. The first time he sees a morning glory, he’s so excited that he refuses to talk about anything else for hours. Every morning, he wakes up before sunrise so he can see it. He embroiders the various flowers he sees on his clothes. There’s so much about Sigma that makes me happy. I put my own childlike wonder into him, and honestly, I’m overjoyed that I did. He’s one of my favorite characters to write for because he’s just so excited to learn.

ABILITIES

Sigma gets little a blood magic, as a treat. Bezglaz is a wonderful goddess in that she gives her most ardent followers blood magic. The power of Sigma’s abilities depends on how much blood he’s consumed as of late. When he’s with his mothers, drinking blood on the regular (as you do), his magic is at its strongest.

I’m also putting Sigma’s endless optimism beneath this section because I love it so much.

Along with that, Sigma is excellent at the domestic arts. He mends everyone’s clothes, is great at making meals from very little, and finds a lot of joy in embroidery. Sigma can also weave a mean tapestry and make a cozy as fuck quilt. It gets cold in the caves, yo.

GOALS & AMBITIONS

When it comes to Sigma, all his ambitions honestly revolve around Bezglaz. His biggest goal in life is to be a high priestess of Bezglaz’s, and as such, he is about as devout as one can be. It’s not particularly healthy, seeing as Bezglaz’s worship revolves around bloodletting, but he doesn’t particularly care about that. It’s what he was raised into. Such are cults.

Sigma also wants to learn everything. Since he lived his life in isolation with an education centering around the goddess of lifeblood, Sigma’s berth of knowledge is pretty lacking in other areas. 

IN GREENEST

Greenest follows Sigma’s journey to find said artifact. I began writing Greenest way before I played Baldur’s Gate 3, but somehow, my totally unique fetch quest plot reflects Shadowheart’s quest to find the mysterious artifact. I mean, in the end, they’re both devout followers of a questionable goddess who have to prove themselves to their religious order to receive acceptance from them.

Sigma sets out with hired help, Valor, who knows the country better than Sigma does. Along the way, Sigma briefly gets sidetracked by getting top surgery to fix his dysphoria (because I project onto my characters) and adds Experiment #24 to the group, because they need someone with medical skills to deal with Sigma’s use of blood magic.

Retrieving the relic is an adventure with unexpected results for Sigma. 

APPEARANCE

When I was creating Mavuto, I scrapped the idea of him being lime green for being a candy pink instead. Then for my next half-daimon, I used the green instead. It’s strange to think that, in an alternate universe, I decided Mavuto would stay green and Sigma would be the pink one. Then the book might be called Pinkest instead.

Sigma begins Greenest as a pale green like the inside of a lime peel, and he darkens to a bright lime green as he travels in the sun for the first time in his life. His hair remains a deep green like grass in heavy shade. His horns are two tiny pointed arcs. Sigma’s tail ends with a similar curve that points back at the base.

Throughout the events of Greenest, Sigma’s access to proper nutrition for the first time allows him to grow from being around 5’4 to being 5’10. If you can grow on travel rations, there is… something wrong with how you were eating beforehand. Regardless of that, Sigma continues to grow into a somewhat healthy (if anemic) young man on his travels.

His hair is long enough to reach his waist in the beginning of his story, though he cuts it to his shoulder blades. Sometimes he lets Valor plait it. There’s a gap in his teeth. Sigma is, and I cannot emphasize this enough, fucking adorable. He’s the definition of a “cute little twink”. 

RELATIONSHIPS

THE MOTHERS are the members of the blood cult dedicated to Bezgalz. They raised Sigma his entire life and influenced him in devotion to her. Despite being a cult dedicated to blood, drinking blood, and giving blood, they’re shockingly cool with Sigma expressing himself. He adores the women who raised him and has unquestioningly accepted their morals as his own.

VALOR is Sigma’s first free contact with the outside world. As the hired muscle to help escort Sigma from his home in the caves to the artifact, Valor is mostly here for the money. He’s also the first man that Sigma has ever had prolonged contact with. Sigma doesn’t understand why Valor is so angsty and quiet when the world has so much to offer.

Sigma thinks Valor is the coolest guy ever. Valor is a badass who has traveled the world. That’s honestly everything Sigma has never had in his life, so he automatically thinks that anyone who has ever done that to be really neat. Mind you, Sigma is seventeen and heavily sheltered. Of course he thinks the angstiest guy he’s ever met is awesome.

EXPERIMENT #24 and Sigma get along like a wildfire. They’re both naïve to the world and trying to learn as much as possible. Sigma and X both find each other fascinating in every way. Their relationship is pretty wholesome. 

QUICK STATS

Song: Girl With One Eye - Florence + the Machine

D&D Class: Blood Cleric

[artbyblastweave]

A Theory about The Unproduced Amelia Season

I think Amelia’s book would have served to reframe her takeover of the train as, at least initially, a good thing. On some level, I think it was a good thing. When we first meet Amelia in Book 4, she’s in some form of Dialogue with One; he’s walking her through the proceedings of the train, laying it all out for her. And frankly, he’s framed a lot like a supervillian here.

This isn’t the One-one that traveled with Tulip. He’s a united front, with a specific goal and ethos. His name drips with ego. He’s cold, calculating. He’s a robot hidden behind an uncanny face. He knows the train kills people. Probably a lot of people. He doesn’t care. They fix their shit- with limited guidance and resources- or they die. For all intents and purposes, he’s either PG Jigsaw or he’s playing Metatron to one.

Then there’s Amelia. Amelia, about whom we can observe several things;

She’s known to have a knack for subverting tyrannical, bureaucratic systems. She undercuts the phone company. She jokingly tries to talk Alric into ditching graduation. She does poorly in a classroom setting but she’s brilliant when she applies herself.

In an era when all passengers have specific uniforms-branded with One’s face, no less, Amelia is wearing the boots, (which physically can’t be removed) but not the soulless; identity-erasing uniform.

She’s penetrated very far into the infrastructure of the train. You don’t get this far on your first day, or without subverting a lot of systems to get One’s personal, undivided attention.

She has no Denizen with her here. That’s odd; with the exception of Grace, most passengers tend to accumulate denizens pretty quickly after they board the train. Kez demonstrates that, under One, this is what Denizens do- it’s their duty to explain the set-up and assist the passengers, although she personally isn’t “conventionally” good at it (she helps by being so incompetent they have to devise workarounds to the problems she creates.) 

So what we’re looking at here is coded like a Bond Villain Speech to a protagonist that you’d get at the climax. This is after the plucky, headstrong, anti-authoritarian heroine has pushed through countless dangers on the train proper, to break into the inner sanctum of a sanctimonious demigod. This is after she’s asserted her individuality with clothes instead of a uniform. 

This is after any denizens she potentially encountered have left her company; maybe through second-act heroic sacrifice, or just by being left behind when One brought her into the main tour. (It’s possible she never encountered any, but from a meta standpoint it’s unlikely the whole book would have been her with One-One and no one else.) In the construction of a typical horror thriller or heroic action adventure, we’d be witnessing zero hour. Now let’s look at her influence on Ryan and Min’s adventure. She exerts influence twice; once at the Party Car, and once at the castle.  In the Party car, she gives them back their stuff. Ryan’s Guitar, Min-Gi’s minisynth, their clothes. All flatly necessary to get through the car, to resolve their problems in general, and it’s pretty clear that One wasn’t going to give them that stuff if Amelia hadn’t suggested it; she’s in some kind of dialogue with him that can be heard through the Steward. 

And someone pointed out that in the other seasons, the stuff that the passengers bring on board with them is a reflection of themselves, their strengths and their pasts. Someone aside from me pointed out that under One’s system, Tulip wouldn’t have had the pocket knife that she used to rescue Lake- and that was the only conceivable takeaway from that car, that you need to extend empathy even to people who are hurting you while pursuing their own needs. They pointed out that without his phone and the recording, Lake wouldn’t have been able to help Jesse through his issue with Nate and Troy. He could have kept dancing around that forever.  So this is clearly Amelia at a point where she’s trying to introduce a Reform to a broken system. And it’s a good one! The second time she shows up, she takes the pair’s magnoboots, proclaims that “we are on our own,” and (accidently)  self-destructs the stewards. That’s a demonstration that she’s in control at this point, if not competent control.

 It’s telling that the most prominent thing One’s regime provides to the Passengers are boots that can be used as restraining bolts if they start doing something he doesn’t like. It’s also telling that Amelia’s first act as Conductor was to remove those restraining bolts from everyone on the train. Her breakdown at the end of Book One is at least partially informed by her knowledge of how callously One-One ran things when she hadn’t rendered him a complete moron. Her brusque, no-nonsense attitude in Book 3 results from the fact that she’s not actually sorry about overthrowing One-One; she recognizes that there was a mechanical limit stopping her from bringing back Alrick, that she took One-One’s little speech about the train being capable of anything too literally, and that her time in charge could have been spent far more productively. But that was purely a practical error, not necessarily a moral one; she isn’t shown to care about denizens any more than One One or the Apex do, and she doesn’t care about the train working beyond what’s necessary to burn off her sentence.

Considering all of this, I think that a book about Amelia would have been framed as a full-circle revolution; a story about Dorothy finding the man behind the curtain, finding him lacking, and usurping him. The tragedy isn’t that the real conductor was overthrown; the tragedy is that Amelia fails to improve meaningfully on his performance.  She failed to recognize her newfound capacity, and her moral responsibility, to improve the system for everyone; Instead, she got lost for thirty years in the pipe dream of bringing back Alrick, with nothing to show for it but turtles.

[luna-rainbow]

so damn annoying that bucky incorrectly blames himself for the winter soldier thing, but marvel also does, like it is objectively not his fault??? its been years how are we still here?

Bucky blaming himself for Winter Soldier is the most natural and believable part of Bucky’s arc. Guilt is such a big part of grief, and sometimes for victims it is hard to accept that it is grief, or that they are allowed to grieve themselves and grieve over what they had lost of themselves. Not to mention that the WS’s actions are incredibly far from Bucky’s own morality, so that disconnect (and the fact his body was used) is always going to be a source of guilt. (**But I agree the therapy sessions should have been trying to unpack that and divert his thoughts away from guilt)

I think a lot of people have already offered theories as to why Marvel treats Bucky the way they do. From a big picture point of view, Bucky’s role was intimately tied to Steve’s arc for every single one of his previous appearances. His sole purpose was to be a foil and a trophy for Steve. Outside of that, Bucky didn’t really have his own character - we fans meta the heck out of his interactions with Steve but they’re all guesses. At least, I base most of my meta on trying to imagine what sort of person could become Steve’s best friend — because not only does he have to stand against external disapproval that try to convince him Steve isn’t worthy of his time, but also stand up to Steve’s incredibly high standards.

But to Marvel, he is just a jigsaw piece that they move around on their puzzle board of action movies. The sad truth is after the events of endgame, there is no longer a role for his character, but they’re loath to let go of his popularity and audience draw. They don’t understand his popularity and only look superficially at the roles he’s served: “sidekick”, “villain”, “damsel in distress” with a side of highly unstable. They’re not really sure what to do with him so they test the waters by trying to write him a hero arc, while leaving it open for him to return to being in a “villain” role later if required, because let’s face it, his most popular role was the formidable Winter Soldier. So that’s why in TFATWS the aim was to get him to a place where he’s a sidekick, while straddling the greyzone between villain and hero, with the hint that his instability could be unresolved.

That’s the universe planning big picture view. From a TFATWS story point of view, it’s just lack of care and knowledge about this character. They got their assignment and half-assed it, pulling at the most random attributes from previous canon, without considering who he was or what his beliefs are. As I keep saying, Bucky’s role in TFATWS was simply to push the plot along even when it is at odds with his personality, motivations and skills. Just as in the movies, his characterisation is an afterthought to his purpose as a plot device.

Is it possible to set up Bucky as a character that can potentially still be an antagonist later on, while still being sympathetic and respectful of his victimhood? Yes, of course it is. That was the entire CACW arc for Bucky and TFATWS couldn’t even manage to match that.

I’ve only talked about story and planning. I haven’t even touched on attitudes and biases that are driving some of the writing decisions. There is an acceptable way to be a victim - you fight back and overpower your oppressors like Tony and Carol; there is an acceptable way to be an avenger (not capitalised) - you avenge the wrongs done to other people, like Clint and well, Tony. But it is not acceptable to acknowledge that you have been victimised, nor is it acceptable to seek revenge for your own suffering. Which is why Bucky is never allowed to confront Hydra nor Nebula allowed to punish Thanos; why Nat was only allowed to destroy Dreykov on behalf of her sisters or Shang Chi only allowed to confront his father in the context of his mother’s death; and why Loki is framed wrong for trying to bring retribution against Odin. As for why those attitudes exist and what the purpose of perpetrating those views are, I’ll let you draw your own conjectures.

[pascalpanic]

Tiny Dancer (Frankie “Catfish” Morales x f!Reader)

Summary: Reader and Frankie are best friends, and both think that their feelings are unrequited… with the help of a little throwback music, that might change. Reader uses she/her pronouns.

Warnings: alcohol use

Word Count: 1.79k

A/N: This is my first published fic! I hope you like it, whoever’s reading this!! Thanks to my beta readers and people who helped me format, @lovetoreader​ @mandoalorian​ and @no-droids-on-sunday​, as well as a couple friends not on tumblr!

gif credit to @amahlfarouk​!

The fire crackles and casts a warm glow across Frankie’s face, highlighting the valleys and ridges of the lines in his skin, the shadow accentuating his pronounced nose. He really is beautiful, you sigh and think to yourself as you look at him. You’ve been friends with Frankie for a long time now, since high school, and the feelings you first had for him upon your introduction never quite faded. He looks completely relaxed, the bonfire, the music, and your presence putting him at ease. 

You tear your eyes from his face as you see him shifting, not wanting him to notice that you were most definitely staring. He picks up his phone and presses a button, shuffling the oldies playlist he chose and allowing John Denver’s Take Me Home, Country Roads to play through his Bluetooth speaker sitting on the table between the two of you. You give a laugh. “Good memories with this one,” you say with an easy smile on your face and look over at him, nudging his leg with your boot-covered foot. 

Frankie definitely agrees as he smiles back at you, his nose scrunching and his dimple showing. “Oh god. You almost got us kicked out of that bar for how loud you screamed this,” he chuckles and nudges your leg back, his strength moving your leg significantly farther than you nudged his. 

The two of you stop your brief chatter and start singing along. Frankie is loud and off-key, his baritone perfectly complimenting your equally out-of-tune voice. Both of you mumble through the first verse, not entirely sure of the words to this part. As it comes to the chorus, however, it’s a completely different story. The two of you start bellowing the words, laughing and grinning at each other. 

-

That night at your local bar was the closest Frankie ever got to kissing you. 

You had both had only enough alcohol to be lightly tipsy, meaning one-and-a-half drinks for you and three for Frankie. The bar had a machine that allowed you to pick the music, and Frankie eagerly used his quarters on song after song that you requested. Your face, flushed from alcohol, was closer to his than normal. He bit down on his lip and looked down as your faces got closer through the laughter, and as he looked up he swore he saw it in your eyes, exactly what he was feeling. 

The song ended and another came on, and an entirely different spark entered your eyes. “Oh my God!” You giggled. “I love this song! This is, like, the best,” you raved as the guitar kicked in. 

“The only song of the night you didn’t request is the best?” He teases you, the moment gone as you lean back to start singing along. “Really, you like John Denver?” He asks over the loud music and chatter. 

Nodding enthusiastically, your grin made him grin back. “Of course, Francisco. I’m a woman of culture,” you tease right back happily and push his shoulder. You knock back the rest of your second drink and slide off your barstool. “Come on, we’re dancing,” you practically shout and drag him off of his and to the small clearing for dancing

Frankie begrudgingly follows. He’s not much of a dancer, but he’d do anything for you. That much was obvious, he thought. As you reach the floor, you start belting the lyrics at the top of your lungs, audible even over the hum of the bar. 

-

As the chorus ends, you two both try to mumble the verse again, neither of you knowing the words. “Good memories,” he says again, a wistful smile on his face as he sits back in his chair a little further. 

“The best. You’re a good dance partner,” you smile along with him. “Even if that song wasn’t really us dancing. It was more standing close to each other while I burst your eardrums with my opera-worthy voice,” you sarcastically grin and elbow him lightly in the forearm. He makes a fake whimper of pain and pouts. “Catfish,” you laugh and shake your head at him softly, “the military veteran, special ops pilot extraordinaire, wounded by my elbow.”

“Just because I was in the military doesn’t mean I don’t feel pain anymore, hermosa,” he frowns at you and elbows you back. You make a similar noise and he grins. “See? Doesn’t feel great, does it?”

The two of you continue on with your playful banter, the way it’s always been for the two of you. You bicker and shove lightly, both of you separately thinking the same thing: that the main reason you love to push and shove isn’t because you see them like a sibling, but because you want any excuse you can to touch them. 

Your bickering continues as the song changes, and a break in the action causes a lull that allows you to notice the new song that came on. Grinning, you grab his phone and turn up the volume before setting it back on the small table between the two of you. “Oh my god, I love Elton John,” you coo as you hear his familiar voice singing Tiny Dancer. 

“I’m well aware,” he shoots back and shakes his head. “Add that song to the list of reasons my eardrums are broken. You know, people would think it’s because of the helicopters that I have hearing damage. What would they think if I told them it was because your tiny ass body has the strongest vocal chords to exist?” He groans, raising an eyebrow at you that rests just below the brim of his classic baseball cap. 

“Tiny?” You say, jokingly aggressive. You don’t consider yourself short; in fact, you’re above average. But with Frankie Morales, you practically look like an elf. He towers over you, and it drives you insane. 

“Just like the song,” he nods then gasps. “You are tiny dancer,” he says with a pleased smile spreading across his cheeks and showing that goddamn dimple. 

Smacking his arm, you shake his head. “Don’t even go there. First of all, we both know I only dance when I’m drunk or you make me,” you laugh. “The only-”

Frankie cuts you off by standing and taking your hand, pulling you to your feet as well. “You’re tiny and now you’re dancing,” he says, smiling down at you as he wraps his free arm around his waist, the other hand still clutching yours. 

“You’re cheesy as hell, Morales, you know that?” You ask and look up at him, the baseball cap shading his chocolate brown eyes. 

Frankie shrugs, starting to sway the two of you along, carefully avoiding the fire but staying close enough that the two of you are warm. “I may have been told that before,” he says and gives you a warm smile. 

Your heart thumps increasingly harder in your chest, which is now pressed to Frankie’s as he pulls you closer and gently sets his chin on your shoulder. You’re sure he can feel it, which makes you panic slightly, which makes your heart race even faster. You rest your head against his shoulder, the position coming naturally. You’ve slow danced before, of course, as the two of you always find yourself on the dance floor, but it’s only been a few times. Rare. Dancing usually consists of you and Frankie, not touching, flailing like complete idiots. Neither of you were known for your coordination when it comes to dancing, and it has always shown. But this is nice. Completely different. 

Humming the lyrics, his throat buzzes and you can feel it where your head rests against the side of his neck. He stops humming and starts singing softly, the smile in his voice evident. 

“Hold me closer tiny dancer… count the headlights on the highway…”

Giggling softly, you break away as Frankie pulls back, making you do a spin. You squeal as you lose your balance and stumble for a moment. Once again, coordination is not your strong suit. Both of you laugh as Frankie protectively pulls you back to his chest, stopping you before you can fall. “Careful,” he chides lovingly. 

“It’s a little late to be careful now, Frankie,” you shoot back sarcastically. “I already tripped.”

You look up at him, taken aback by the tenderness in his eyes. He always looks happy to be around you, but his eyes are painfully soft as he smiles down at you. 

The look makes you inhale sharply. He can’t feel that way about you, can he? You would’ve known sooner, surely, and you’ve been friends for a long time. You’ve always been able to read him like a book, what is this new expression? Or… is it new? You ask yourself all of these questions, biting your lip softly and looking down. 

He tears his gaze away and increases the distance between you, not nearly as close, terrified that he just gave too much away. He clears his throat and takes his hat off, running a hand through his hair before replacing it. He turns away and heads for his chair. “Sorry,” he says bashfully, looking at you. “I-,”

Something emboldens you. You’re not sure what, but it’s probably the fact that you suddenly put the last piece of the jigsaw puzzle together: he likes you too. You grab his wrist and stop him. “Please don’t be sorry,” you tell him and move closer to him, your heaving chests close once again. You reach up and take off his hat, running a hair through his curls, a peace offering. An offering, maybe, for something more.

“Can I kiss you, hermosa?” Frankie asks, voice barely a rasp of a whisper as he pulls you closer with an arm around your waist. 

You nod slightly and Frankie slowly moves in, his other hand moving to your cheek as he allows your lips to meet, soft and perfect. You sigh lightly and bring your free hand to his cheek as well, the other holding his ballcap and dangling at your side. You kiss him back contently, allowing the slow and gentle moment to rest. 

He eventually is the first to break away, his heart in his eyes and your faces close together. “I…” he wants to say something but can’t find the right words. 

“Me too,” you whisper back with a chuckle, brushing his curls from his face. “Me too, Frankie,” you say and blissfully kiss him again, the swell of the music perfectly matching the rhythm of your kiss. 

He breaks away after a few moments, smiling softly at you again. “I told you, you’re her, you’re tiny dancer,” he teases softly. “My tiny dancer?” He asks shyly, taking the hand from the side of his face and lacing your fingers together. 

“Yours,” you breathe in agreement and close the gap between you to kiss him once again. 

[wisteria-lodge]

lion primary (bird model) + slightly burnt lion secondary

Hi there! I’m a fan of your sorting posts, and of your kind and insightful way of supporting people in finding out more about themselves. So naturally I’d be very interested in your take about my own sorting, if you’re game! :)

I won’t talk much about my Secondary, because now that I’m starting to unburn my Lion seems very clear to me, even when my explosion-prone Badger model still tries to get in the way of that clarity sometimes. The more interesting riddle is my Primary. So far I’m operating under the working theory that I am a Lion with a very strong Bird model - or is it the other way ‘round?

The supposed dichotomy between “thinking” and “feeling” in many of the more binary personality models has always bugged me, so it’s no wonder this is the area where whenever I feel like I’ve decided on who I am (for now) a new question mark pops up (so much fun!).

If ‘thinking’ and ‘feeling’ doesn’t work for you as terminology, it might help to think of Lion as leading with subconscious reasoning, and Bird as leading with conscious reasoning.

Instead of trying to formulate a cohesive text, which would have gotten even longer, I’m putting together an associative list of thoughts and stories that kept turning up while I was trying to figure out my Primary.

A very Lion primary way to solve a problem, not gonna lie ;)

- I think I got my Bird model from my father, who made quite an effort to teach me to look at things from all angles. As a child, whenever I got in a fight with this friend I had, he would sit me down and ask me to put myself in my friend’s shoes. It was hard, because a lot of the time my friend was being unfair to me and I actually could have used some support, someone to tell me that it was not okay to treat me this way. But I’m still immeasurably grateful for my father’s lessons, through which I’ve learned to understand peoples’ motivations and gained an understanding for the complexities of every conflict. He also taught me to doubt, to look closer, to not just believe the first thing I see, or want to see. To this day I still consider my ability to pin down the relevant factors of a situation before I make judgments one of my strengths.

That definitely sounds like a very strong, beloved Bird model.

- Whenever I had to write an essay at school or uni, I first had to come up with some aspect about the subject that I really cared about, even could be passionate about. (I am passionate about many things, so it was usually possible to find some connection to that.) Then I would use the essay to discuss this aspect in great detail, ending with a polemic flourish. I had the time of my life doing that; meanwhile the text would structure itself magically in relation to the issue I had chosen to focus on. Whenever I tried to write without such a focus, I’d get bored, stressed and the text would be of a much lower quality.

- Something similar happened in oral exams at uni: Only when I got the opportunity to bring a discussion paper (a few pointed statements regarding the exam topic) which I could then debate, I was able to recollect all the important details I needed for that. If I just had to report on the topic or answer questions, I often got confused, to the point of drawing a complete blank.

Linking things to emotion and passion - thinking with emotion and passion, basically - is a Lion primary thing. Especially if doing that makes you feel safe & comfortable & effective & happy.

- Even as a teenager I was very interested in philosophy, ethics and moral decision making.

I love teaching philosophy to teenagers. It’s the perfect time for it, they are so into it, and if it were up to me I would absolutely make it a required class.

I picked up certain philosophical ideas and concepts that I liked and integrated them in my belief system (yes, I know how very Bird that sounds).

I had my mind blown by Genealogy of Morals in high school, and I still won’t shut about Eichmann in Jerusalem. But what was so staggering to me in high school was… here are these ways of thinking that are possible and allowed. The fact that here they are in words in front of me made me a great deal more expansive.

Now that I think about it — I don’t remember adjusting my beliefs as in any way traumatic back then. The shift from a belief in the Christian God to Mother Goddess to my very own brand of agnostic paganism was smooth, natural.

Now that I think about it… I would describe myself as a mythic relativist (which is a term I just made up.) Systems of belief are metaphors, and they’re metaphors trying to describe and say something large and beautiful about what it means to be human, and what it means to live a good life. And since we are all human, they are all attempting to describe the same central, indescribable thing in different ways.

I feel this very deeply, but it took me a long while to be able to articulate it.

I constantly reevaluate, and I adapt.

You stop reevaluating and adapting, might as well be dead.

Still, there are some basics I’ve kept with me that just make too much sense to me to give up, and some that perhaps I keep because I just really like them and I’m kind of attached to them.

… somebody’s thinking with Pathos :)

- I’m a constructivist at heart, so that makes it much easier to tweak the content of my beliefs while staying true to the principle that we (socially) construct our reality, and (my take on this): that I choose what kind of world I want to live in, and according to that I make choices which are the most likely to create that world.

- At uni I attended a seminar about the development of moral judgment and action. What I remember most clearly about it is how much it bugged me that the other students didn’t seem to understand that morality always depends on the perspective. Even though I had definite moral convictions that I was ready to fight for, at the same time it seemed obvious to me that theoretically there could be a justification for every kind of moral guideline; it depended on your principles and the world you wanted to live in.

A human after my own heart.

I wanted to understand these different perspectives, not talk about empty categories like “right and wrong” or “good and evil” that meant nothing to me. I still feel that way.

Absolutely. I don’t use alignments when I DM Dungeons & Dragons. I mean, I can list evil *things* but that’s not the same thing as defining *being evil.* I want to know WHY these people did these evil things.

It just seems so impractical and complicated to base a conversation on those broad categories that don’t have any definition people can agree on instead of referring either to defined principles (in order to explain what good/ bad is *for you*) or consequences of certain actions, and whether you want them/ accept them/ don’t want them.

Oh that’s a fun discussion. Asking a highschooler to define “evil.”

(and then they have to figure out what moral systems Jigsaw, Pinhead, the Joker, and Bane all subscribe to.)

- Between “the Revolutionary” and “the Grail Knight”, I would love to be the former, but I’m clearly the latter. I’m someone who questions, not someone who knows.

Take my archetypes with a grain of salt, they are supposed to describe characters. (Who are different from people - but still useful, because they are attempts to describe us.) I actually want to write more about the differences I see between the way fictional secondaries are written and the way real-life secondaries work.

And just “knowing”... is dangerous. That’s how Exploded Lions happen. 

There are a lot of causes I find worthy to fight for, but I haven’t committed to any one, which so far I’ve attributed to my Burned Secondary (How do I do things?).

Sounds about right.

If I’m honest, though, it feels a bit strange to really, really fight for anything. I’d rather contribute to the cause by keeping an eye on whether we stay aligned to our values on every level of the fight, not by storming sightlessly in front of some army. (I got polemic again, didn’t I? ;))

So after all this Bird talk, why do I think that I’m a Lion?

… that was the Bird segment?

- I trust my intuition. It has never steered me wrong, with one exception: My Primary burned for a time when I first understood the concept of privilege and internalized bias, which was coincidentally at a time when I also went through a lot of changes in my personal life. Like many people unaware of their own privilege, I had thought of myself as “one of the good ones”. I learned that even with the best intentions I could cause great harm without even noticing it. This then also happened to me in a relationship, when I was already confused, hurt and more than a bit burned. It seemed like I couldn’t trust my intuition anymore, but I also couldn’t figure out intellectually what to believe, because I felt mentally overwhelmed by all those new concepts, all of which put my previous convictions into question. Which Primary burned then?

Been there, done that, it’s brutal. It sounds to me like a Lion dramatically changing direction - that’s what I mean when I say that it *hurts* when a Lion changes their mind. Birds see their past selves that thought wrong as almost different people. “I wasn’t aware of my privilege then, now I am, and can take steps doing forward.” But if you’re a lion it’s like… I *should* have been aware, and the fact that I wasn’t says something terrible about my moral/emotional calibration, and THAT has to be put right.

- I felt like everything I had learned about the world and myself didn’t count anymore. My concepts and my strategies didn’t serve me anymore. So I started to rebuild everything from scratch, this time with less pride and more practicality.

Yeah. That’s some Lion recalibration. With a Bird Model, to help.

- Anyway, I trust my intuition. It contains my experiences, instinct and all my accumulated unconscious observations of the situation, and it’s very reliable. Usually I use it as an important source of information which I try to back up with data/ understanding, but when push came to shove and the apparent facts would contradict what my intuition told me, I would be unable to set my gut feeling aside. I wouldn’t follow it blindly, of course. But I would never just go against it either. If the voices of my unconscious and conscious mind don’t align, I keep poking at the issue until they do. If I absolutely cannot come to a satisfying conclusion, I go with my gut. Since I know it usually knows what it’s doing, I’ll find out the reasons for my feelings later. (Weird, says my inner bird who is busy compiling these examples.)

I’LL FIND THE REASON FOR MY FEELINGS LATER. What a perfect way of articulating what is perhaps the central experience of being a Lion primary.

- Probably I’m just both, you know. Some interesting lion/bird-chimaera. I like it.

I read you as a pretty clear Lion Primary, Bird primary model. But as always, the decision is very personal.

- I have a weird way of processing information: I read/ hear it, work to understand it, work to connect it to existing knowledge in my mind, then my beliefs, my existing knowledge and my feelings about it all wind around each other, grow into each other, some dissolve together, becoming a swamp which then nourishes the plants of new ideas and connections that grow from it.

You grok it. And that’s not weird.

I often can’t remember where certain knowledge came from. I can’t take it out of a memory shelf and tell you about it. I usually remember that I’ve read a certain book and whether I liked it / it influenced me, but I won’t exactly remember what was in it, even if it was important to me. Because all that information is already processed/ digested/ transformed into something new. It’s much easier to access my memory swamp intuitively than consciously.

and you seriously had like… any doubt that you were a Lion.

In intellectual discussions I tend to get stuck because I just can’t remember enough of the details (for my satisfaction), just my conclusions about the topic and how I feel about it.

I’m inclined to think that not accessing the details is either a secondary thing, or an entirely unrelated processing thing.

What do you make of all this? I’m very curious!

:)

[On an unrelated note, I’d like to specify the compliment I made at the beginning of this post. I’m really impressed with your ability to pick up on what people need, not just what they say they want. As a counselor this is a skill I try to hone, so I know how difficult it is to not get too distracted by the story people tell and miss the more subtle cues. You have a powerful combination of perceptiveness, insight and so much kindness, which you use to effectively support people who have questions, are in distress or confused. You don’t generalize. You don’t judge. You see the people who talk to you.  I love that you’re a teacher, because I can see you’re using the influence that gives you in a way that contributes to making the world a better place. Fellow Idealist, I’d like to give you a High Five for that, if I may. :)))]

I’m not sure I’ve ever been given a better compliment. Thank you.

[rotten-games]

Another Halloweenie ask the CoI cast weren’t around for. What would they be like as horror villains & survivors?

You can find the RotT version of this ask here!

Allard: Slasher villain, obviously but with no sympathetic backstory about a dead loved one. They’re just there for the fun of it. // Either was working with the villain the whole time or was the villain the whole time

Carol: Slasher but this time she DOES have a backstory about a dead loved one. // She’d be the leader type of character that dies later on after heroically sacrificing herself for the others.

Doc: She’d straight up just pull a Jigsaw on everyone and kill everyone for some moral failing on their part. // She’d get injured early on but somehow survive to the end until the screenwriters remember she has an injury and make her die because she couldn’t keep up with everyone else or something.

Lowrie: They’d just be a ghost haunting a family home. // They simply would not show up because they’re fucking smart. Who willingly goes to a murder house?

Harley: Vaguely homoerotic vampire that can never explicitly show any same-gender attraction because of censorship and cowardice at the time. // They’d die because they had sex once and the film wants to punish those who partake in their desires

Ridley: They’d probably be an evil scientist or something, that ultimately gets taken over by their experiment // They would probably not show up and end up surviving by sheer luck of just being too nervous to go

Mordred: Werewolf movie werewolf movie werewolf-- // He’d be that idiot who goes into an undocumented cave system and ends up getting chased and, eventually, killed by flesh eating cave monsters.

Arthur: A Frankenstein’s monster sort of creature, but with a sympathetic backstory that makes you feel sad at the end of the film when he inevitably dies. OR one of those horrifying monsters from resident evil // He’d be one of those investigators at the start and end of the horror flick trying to figure out what happened to all the victims of the murder house. Maybe he ends up dying as the final victim

Adrastea: Sexy vampire from a modern adaptation of a horror novel that perhaps relies a bit too much on the male gaze than any real story or plot points. // They’d either die first or live long enough to escape the murder house due to sheer wit but end up running straight into the villain because there is no escape.

Deimos: Deimos would probably be the villain in one of those classic monster movies. // He’d end up dying somewhere in the middle -- not protecting anyone just minding his own business and being alone in a horror movie, like an idiot

Saga: One of those flesh-eating monsters that chase the protagonists across a series of cave systems. // They’d probably die first. I love them but it’s true.

Perci: I’m thinking something like nemesis in resident evil. Big. Strong. And just punches. // She’d be that one character that dies in the first movie but comes back in the sequel due to some convoluted reason.

Dagda: They;d more likely to be like a mourning spirit that’s trying to find their baby and thinks everyone stole it or something. // They’d straight up just be the final survivor

[eleathyra-art]

Review by Jô P.: Fragments of your Soul by E. S. Erbsland

“Life gave Arvid a lemon, and she made a  Caipirinha.”

(The original review is in Portuguese, so below is a google translate version in English. Original far below, and link to the source here.)

The review:

Good Morning! I'm not one to comment or create posts... But I stayed up until 03:00 in the morning, reading Fragments of Your Soul.

I want to thank the PL and Shifters teams. Well I'll try to make a brief review, without spoilers. From now on, forgive me if I write or type something wrong. I only slept 3 hours tonight... Anyway, let's go.

Is the book worth reading? YEA! MUCH!

Is the book too big? YEA! But I guarantee you all: no page or scene is unnecessary.

Do you have hot scenes? Few.

It's romantic? It depends on what each reader means by romantic.

Does it have a happy ending? oh! This is the cat's jump!!!! What is happiness? Guimarães Rosa says that "...happiness, we find it in times of chance." AND? READ TO UNDERSTAND.

I'll try to explain...The book follows the structure of ALL books that recreate, or create new mythologies. Anyone who has read Tolkien, Lewis, Frank Herbert will understand. I think it follows the structure of Scandinavian sagas (beowulf type), but I could be wrong...

When I started reading the book I realized where the plot was going: first, the protagonist, Arvid is introduced in her world. His characteristics, mainly psychological (interesting that in her case, the physical doesn't matter, because we'll be very interested in Loke's physical characteristics, and only later, we'll notice his emotional characteristics....). Then how she ended up in the Shadow World. Then the Arvid saga begins: learning to live in a new world, new customs, new languages, finding a way to return to the World of Light. With that, we see her interacting with the other characters.

Eventually, we meet the antagonist, who is also the protagonist (read!). But we're STILL focused on Arvid's new life and the challenges and heartaches she has to go through. Halfway through the book we realize that NOTHING is what it seems, and the story shifts focus and we begin to follow Arvid and Loke's interaction. And from then on I can't say anything else, because I'll give spoilers.

But why is the book good? Because despite dealing with legends, myths, supernatural beings, all characters are in the same struggle as us: earning a living, getting a job, going to college, paying the bills, falling in love with the wrong person, falling in love with the person right, wrong with the right person, right with the wrong person, and, above all, live with every act and choice of everyday life. We've all done things we regret. We've all regretted that we didn't do some things. And we've all had to close the past and understand that when we make a decision, we must back it up and learn to put an end to what's over. And moving on, even when we're finished physically, emotionally, because the world won't stop because we're sad, desperate, or in mourning. The world goes on. The pain is ours but the happiness is also ours. That's why I liked the book: life gave Arvid a lemon and she made a caipirinha out of it. She did what she had to do, with what she could do at that moment. And Loke, the god of Chaos, was what he was: the chaos we all carry inside of us: unfulfilled wishes, or very well-fulfilled wishes that took us the wrong way.

I warn you here: Loke is straight-forward. Many will be bothered by things and revelations about them. I read it myself and said: what is it like? But keep an open mind. Accept the God of Chaos without prejudice. We all have a dark, chaotic little place inside us. Anyone who has done psychoanalysis knows what I'm talking about.

Loke represents the unconscious... Arvid the conscious. Only in this book, the id is stronger. It's up to Arvid to bring the balance... Have you read The Power of Myth? The Hero with a Thousand Faces? These books tell us that we are all on a lonely journey in search of ourselves. When we put together the fragments of our souls, we are whole and we can love each other and love each other. So... we can say that Arvid and Loke, each in their own way, were on a lonely journey that, at some point, they found each other. What were 2 paths merged into one. And they knew how to appreciate the beauty of this meeting, transforming the 2 paths into a single one...

For me, the ending is VERY ROMANTIC and the book is worth it. Insist. Read a different book. Books like that are good for the soul. They bring our fragments together and make us whole, with a smile on our lips, because in the end, we realize that we all just want the hope of being happy. I don't pretend to sound cultured, erudite, nor am I a psychologist/psychoanalyst, but this book reminded me of so many things I learned about psychoanalysis!

Loke is not immoral or chaotic: he is what he is. Someone with his power (shifter and that's the only spoiler I'm going to give) can appreciate life, sex, nature, in a way that we mere humans would never understand. What for us is immoral, chaotic, dirty, perverse, for him, is a fragment of his own soul. I believe his emotions are very basic. He kills because he can, he has sex and falls in love (in many ways - READ) simply because he can. That's why he's all emotion (ID).

As for Arvid, the human, theoretically like all of us, could do the same: kill, love, whatever. But what prevents and prevents us is the deep moral sense and innate charity (EGO). Not that Arvid is a completely rational being. She is passionate, violent and loyal. But her moral sense is what Loke lacks, and Loke's self-centeredness is what Arvid lacks. In other words: a soul is a jigsaw puzzle of fragments of light and shadows, of morality and immorality. Of good thoughts, and perverted thoughts. Of purity and perversity. Of goodness and badness. What makes us human is the ability to know that everyone has a light within them, even when we only see apparent darkness. Arvid saw the light within Loke and Loke saw the darkness within Arvid. Accepting this in yourself and in others is the great adventure of life.

But, more than that, I believe the great lesson of the book is: HAPPINESS IS A DAILY FIGHT. There is no such thing as an entirely happy period. Over 24 hours a day, we experience good, bad, bad, stressful, because life is like that. Alongside the passionate kiss of his partner (o), there is the perrengue of not having money to buy the shoe; beside the job approval, there is the hassle of waking up at 5 am to take the bus. That's life. It's knowing how to live: knowing when to invest with everything for a dream and when to put a stone on the subject, because the subject is over. That's Arvid's great virtue: knowing when to insist and when to give up. This is the lesson that we should take for life... because the subject is over. That's Arvid's great virtue: knowing when to insist and when to give up. This is the lesson that we should take for life... because the subject is over. That's Arvid's great virtue: knowing when to insist and when to give up. This is the lesson that we should take for life. Review of Jô P.

Original Portuguese text:

Bom dia! Não sou de comentar ou criar posts....Mas fiquei acordada até às 03 horas da manhã, lendo Fragments of Your Soul. Quero agradecer às equipes do PL e do Shifters . Bom vou tentar fazer uma breve resenha, sem dar spoilers. Desde já, me perdoem se eu escrever ou digitar algo errado. Dormi só 3 horas essa noite....Enfim, vamos lá. O livro vale a pena ser lido? SIM! MUITO! O livro é muito grande? SIM! Mas eu garanto a todas vocês: nenhuma página ou cena é desnecessária. Tem cenas hot? Poucas. É romântico? Depende do que cada leitor entende por romântico. Tem final feliz? ah! Esse é o pulo do gato!!!! O que é felicidade? Guimarães Rosa diz que "...felicidade, a gente encontra em horas de acaso." E? LEIAM PARA ENTENDER. Vou tentar explicar...O livro segue a estrutura de TODOS os livros que recriam, ou criam novas mitologias. Quem leu Tolkien, Lewis, Frank Herbert, vai entender. Eu acho que ele segue a estrutura das sagas escandinavas (tipo Beowulf), mas posso estar enganada...Quando comecei a ler o livro eu percebi onde o enredo ia levar: em primeiro lugar, a protagonista, Arvid é apresentada em seu mundo. Suas características, principalmente psicológicas (interessante que no caso dela, o físico não importa, porque vamos ficar muito interessadas nas características físicas do Loke, e só depois, vamos reparar nas características emocionais dele....). Depois, como ela foi parar no Mundo das Sombras. Daí começa a saga da Arvid: aprender a viver num mundo novo, costumes novos, línguas novas, achar um jeito de voltar para o Mundo da Luz. Com isso, vemos ela interagindo com os outros personagens. Lá pelas tantas, conhecemos o antagonista, que também é protagonista (leiam!). Mas AINDA estamos centrados na nova vida de Arvid e os desafios e tristezas pelos quais ela tem que passar. Na metade do livro percebemos que NADA é o que parece, e a história muda de foco e começamos a acompanhar a interação de Arvid e Loke. E a partir daí eu não posso falar mais nada, porque vou dar spoilers. Mas por que o livro é bom? Porque apesar de tratar de lendas, mitos, seres sobrenaturais, todos os personagens estão na mesma luta que nós: ganhar o pão de cada dia, conseguir trabalho, entrar na faculdade, pagar as contas, se apaixonar pela pessoa errada, se apaixonar pela pessoa certa, errar com a pessoa certa, acertar com a pessoa errada, e, principalmente, conviver com cada ato e escolha do dia a dia. Todos nós já fizemos coisas das quais nos arrependemos. Todos nós já nos arrependemos de não termos feito algumas coisas. E todos nós já tivemos que encerrar o passado e entender que quando tomamos uma decisão, devemos bancá-la e aprender a colocar um ponto final no que acabou. E a seguir em frente, mesmo quando a gente está acabado fisicamente, emocionalmente, porque o mundo não vai parar porque estamos tristes, desesperados, ou em luto. O mundo continua. A dor é nossa mas a felicidade também é só nossa. É por isso que eu gostei do livro: a vida deu um limão pra Arvid e ela fez uma caipirinha com ele. Ela fez o que tinha que fazer, com o que dava pra fazer naquele momento. E Loke, o deus do Caos, era o que era: o caos que todos nós carregamos dentro de nós: desejos não realizados, ou desejos muito bem realizados que nos levou para o lado errado. Já aviso aqui: Loke é direto na fala. Muitos vão se incomodar com as coisas e revelações sobre eles. Eu mesma lia e falava: como é que é? Mas tenham a mente aberta. Aceitem o Deus do Caos sem preconceitos. Todos nós temos um lugarzinho escuro e caótico dentro de nós. Quem já fez psicanálise sabe do que eu estou falando. Loke representa o inconsciente....Arvid o consciente. Só que nesse livro, o id é mais forte. Cabe a Arvid trazer o equilíbrio.....Vocês já leram O Poder do Mito? O Herói de Mil Faces? Esses livros nos dizem que todos nós estamos numa jornada solitária em busca de nós mesmos. Quando juntamos os fragmentos de nossas almas, ficamos inteiros e podemos nos amar e amar o outro. Então...podemos dizer que Arvid e Loke, cada um a seu jeito, estavam numa jornada solitária que, em algum momento, se encontraram. O que eram 2 caminhos se fundiram em um. E eles souberam apreciar a beleza desse encontro, transformando os 2 caminhos em um único....Para mim, o final é MUITO ROMÂNTICO e o livro vale a pena. Insistam. Leiam um livro diferente. Livros assim fazem bem pra alma. Juntam os nossos fragmentos e nos tornam inteiros, com um sorriso nos lábios, porque no final, percebemos que todos nós só queremos a esperança de sermos felizes. Não tenho a pretensão de parecer culta, erudita, e nem sou psicóloga/psicanalista, mas esse livro me lembrou tantas coisas que eu aprendi sobre psicanálise! Loke não é imoral ou caótico: ele é o que é. Alguém com o poder dele (metamorfo e esse é o único spoiler que eu vou dar), pode apreciar a vida, o sexo, a natureza, de uma maneira que nós, meros humanos, jamais compreenderíamos. O que para nós é imoral, caótico, sujo, perverso, para ele, é um fragmento da própria alma. Eu acredito que as emoções dele são muito básicas. Ele mata porque pode matar, ele faz sexo e se apaixona (de diversas maneiras - LEIAM), simplesmente porque ele pode. Por isso ele é todo emoção (ID). Já a Arvid, a humana, teoricamente como todos nós, poderia fazer o mesmo: matar, amar, sei lá. Mas o que a impede e nos impede é o profundo senso moral e a caridade inata (EGO). Não que a Arvid seja um ser completamente racional. Ela é apaixonada, violenta e leal. Mas o senso moral dela é o que falta em Loke, e o egocentrismo de Loke é o que falta em Arvid. Ou seja: uma alma é um quebra-cabeça de fragmentos de luz e sombras, de moralidade e imoralidade. De bons pensamentos, e pensamentos pervertidos. De pureza e perversidade. De bondade e maldade. O que nos torna humanos é capacidade de saber que todos tem uma luz dentro de si, mesmo quando só vemos a escuridão aparente. Arvid viu a luz dentro de Loke e Loke viu a escuridão dentro de Arvid. Aceitar isso em si mesmo e no outro, é a grande aventura da vida. Mas, mais do que isso, eu creio que a grande lição do livro é: A FELICIDADE É UMA LUTA DIÁRIA. Não existe um período inteiramente feliz. Ao longo de 24 horas do dia, passamos por sensações boas, ruins, péssimas, estressante, porque a vida é assim mesmo. Ao lado do beijo apaixonado da companheira (o), tem o perrengue de não ter dinheiro pra comprar o sapato; ao lado da aprovação no emprego, tem a chatice de acordar às 05 horas pra pegar o ônibus. A vida é isso. É saber viver: saber quando investir com tudo por um sonho e quando colocar uma pedra no assunto, porque o assunto acabou. Essa é a grande virtude da Arvid: saber quando insistir e quando desistir. Essa é a lição que deveríamos levar para a vida..... Resenha da Jô P.

[straighttxhell]

Kkk, so, I don’t wanna fill your inbox all at once so Imma explain the thought process a bit, (Imma just do spoilers here cause you said you don’t like watching them) first, ikwydls, it’s basically a story about 4 high schoolers, they were out partying, the driver was drunk, they hit someone, thought they killed him, and dumped him in a nearby body of water, the next year around the same time of the incident they start getting threatening notes and weird stuff happens to them, cannon Courtney would 100% fulfil the rol of the killer here because the logic is very flawed but she’s still cool (and let’s be honest, vengeful). Then we have Jigsaw, I said Izzy because she’s definitely smart enough to actuallly make all the traps though now I’m not so sure about the moral code part of things. Prom is basically a movie where we see these three kids in their senior prom (week? I think?), and basically, when they were kids they bullied and killed a girl, promised they wouldn’t tell anyone, but now someone knows and is trying to kill them. It’s the girls brother who actually saw how they killed his sister and I fully believe Duncan would hold that grudge and wait until he was strong enough to take revenge. The original version of scream 3 had the killers be fans of the movie (in universe the tragedies of the first one are turned into a horror franchise) that try to replicate the movie, I think if you make Zoey a horror movie fan and a bit more unhinged she’d totally mange to convince part of the roti cast to do this shot with her. Then we have scape room which is basically, scape room, but deadly, there are complicated puzzles, if you can’t solve them in time you die, and people that are related by something get put there, there’s different reasons to be a designer but Noah has just the perfect mix of smarts and “fuck others, I put myself first” to make a killer room

Honestly I don't really care about the roti cast cause I never watched that season,,, so I'm sorry that I don't have any thoughts on that hehe

But I love everything else, I mean sure, I haven't watched any of those movies, I watched like the first 30 minutes of scream before falling asleep bc it was 4 am.

I love all your analysis like you really get their personalities and yes I can totally see them doing that, especially the Duncan one, he would definitely hold that grudge.

[thepandapopo]

His Star

This is my first FE fic in over ten years. The last time I wrote anything for FE was back in FE7 which, to this day, is my second favourite game of all time.

I have been on a Claudeth binge lately and since it is our favourite deer’s birthday tomorrow, I thought I would try my hand at a fic.

This is most likely going to be a multi chapter fic as I am spinning the plotline in my head as we speak, but whether or not that plot bunny makes it to paper is a different story.

Pairing: Claude x F!Byleth

In which Byleth falls sick for the first time in her entire life, but those who slither in the dark insist on making her life difficult. 

OR

The one where Claude fears he won’t make it in time.

Chapter List: 1 / 2 / 2.5 

Masterlist

XxXxXxXxX

“Professor, you need to rest!”

For someone so demure and dainty looking, Marianne is deceptively strong. Though, Byleth thinks absently as she lets her former student push her back down onto her large 4 poster bed, she shouldn’t be so surprised since she’s seen even Raphael himself bend to the gentle bishop’s will in the odd instances that he sustains a critical enough injury to land himself in the healer’s tent.

“Don’t worry, Professor. I’m sure Seteth will be able to hold down the fort while you recover.” Leonie says from her place at the foot of the bed. Despite the fact that the war has been over for nearly 6 months, her lance is still clipped neatly to her belt, next to her sword scabbard - close enough within reach to attack on a moment’s notice.

Since the end of the war, Leonie had taken it upon herself to act as the new Queen’s Head of Royal Guard. When Byleth had questioned the orange haired girl about her decision, she was merely met with a grin and a simple “I would be a terrible apprentice to Captain Jeralt if I let anything happen to his only child.”

“I’m... sorry.” Though the words themselves are not strange on her tongue, the unfamiliar dryness of her mouth and stuffed nose make Byleth sound weaker and more hesitant than she would have liked.

Leonie snorts, “you don’t have to apologize for catching a cold, Professor. Especially one due to stress. Despite what I think of you when you’re on the battlefield, you really are just a person like anyone else - of course you’re bound to get sick every now and again.”

Still, Byleth broods silently as she watches the blue haired healer usher her other student out the bedroom door, she has never gotten sick in her entire life until now and it just seems a tad bit unfair.

Fusing with the progenitor goddess has several advantages, but unfortunately it seems like being immune to illnesses is not one of them.

As her eyelids begin to lose the fight against consciousness, Byleth cannot help but let her mind wander longingly until she falls asleep dreaming of beautiful emerald eyes and a crooked grin that shines brighter than the dawn.

----

It only takes one week of being bed ridden before everything goes to hell in a handbasket.

Byleth is finally starting to feel well enough to stand up without feeling like she has ingested a vial of Claude’s infamous dizziness poison, when the scouts return with a report that the remnants of the Imperial army have joined forces with Those who Slither in the Dark and are marching for Derdrui, the country’s new capital.

It does not take a tactical genius to figure out that they are coming for the newly appointed Queen and Archbishop of the United Land of Fodlan.

Urgent messengers are sent out to all the nearby houses, requesting any available troops they can spare without leaving themselves vulnerable. It’s almost laughable the pitiful number of men that show up to help fight, but the arrival of all her golden deer is enough to raise Byleth’s morale and hope that she can conquer this disadvantaged fight without her schemer by her side.

Despite the protests from her students - former students, she corrects herself - Byleth steels herself and leads the meager army at her disposal in a defensive formation. This is her duty, after all. Without her, troop morale would falter and that in itself can be the deciding factor in a battle. Additionally, though she has not used it in several months and truly, she does believe in all her students’ skills, Byleth cannot help the unease that creeps up her throat when she thinks about her precious deer on the battlefield without her Divine Pulse. She has fought so hard to make sure they lived to see the peaceful world Claude and her dreamed of, that it would seem like a cruel joke only for them to fall now.

Even sick, the Ashen Demon earns her reputation. Fells of enemies fall to the Sword of the Creator as it burns with power, whipping around its wielder like a snake striking with deadly precision at the enemy’s weakness. Byleth refuses to let any enemies get close to the city. Her people have already been ravaged by war. They deserve peace, not another battle at their front step.

Hilda is somewhere to her left swinging Freikugel and cleaving through enemies with all the difficulty of a hot knife slicing through butter. Byleth is tempted to relocate the pink haired girl to the back line to act as a final barrier, but she knows that those orders will fall on deaf ears.

“If you insist on going out there Professor, then I have to come and make sure you don’t die. Can you imagine what Claude would say if he came back to find you dead? He would mope for the next century!”

Ignatz and Lysithea are further back providing cover with their long ranged attacks. Arrows and black magic rain from the sky, piercing through unsuspecting enemies and carving a path for Byleth’s battalion to advance and cut through the ranks of the enemy.

Somewhere to her right, she can hear Raphael’s battle cries above the cacophony of sounds. Judging by his sheer volume, Byleth knows that he is doing well despite being far outnumbered. Besides, the brawler is accompanied by Lorenz and Bernadetta, and while Lorenz specializes in black magics, he knows enough healing spells to keep them afloat. Plus, no matter how timid she is off the battlefield, Bernadetta is a force to be reckoned with when protecting her loved ones. Especially her mountain of a husband.

Marianne, Leonie, Felix, Ingrid, Seteth and Flayn are scattered elsewhere to protect against the enemies from crushing them in from both sides, but as the battle wages on, it becomes more and more apparent that their ranks are thinning and those that still stand are beginning to feel the fatigue of being outnumbered three to one.

The battlefield has long since warped into a jigsaw of cracked earth and chasms, courtesy of some nasty earth spells from Those Who Slither In the Dark. Where there should be rolling plains leading out onto the salty water of the ocean, there are now steep cliffs of jagged rocks jutting out of the ground, and despite her best efforts, Byleth eventually finds herself cornered on the precipice of one such cliff.

It can’t end like this.

Another enemy falls to her sword and Byleth barely has time to parry an oncoming arrow before another wave of nausea assaults her body.

She knows she’s probably burning up right now. Mint green strands of hair are matted to her skin with dirt and sweat, and the pounding behind her eyes is growing increasingly difficult to ignore. Byleth is pretty sure that had it not been for her father hammering in years of battle instincts into her, she would have had her head lopped off ages ago.

Despite how much she tries to will herself to stay in that cool, collected mindset that has won her numerous battles, Byleth cannot stop the tightness in her chest that accompanies the tears of frustration accumulating at the corner of her eyes.

She wanted to see Claude again. To feel his arms around her. To fall asleep to the steady pounding of his heart that seemed to inexplicably speed up every time she let her body melt into his. To let herself drown in the scent of pine needles and spices.

She could try using the Divine Pulse, but where would she rewind to? A few minutes would not be enough to make a drastic enough decision to turn the tide in their favor.

It’s not fair.

Goddess. She is so tired. But she cannot give up. Not when she has a promise to keep.

“I love you. With everything I am. And the next time we see each other... it will be at the dawn of a whole new world. A peaceful, happy world.”

Claude...

The ground beneath her feet teeters and he sky is suddenly above her. It is a brilliant blue with fluffy white clouds and even though she knows she is falling, she cannot help but be reminded of the first time Claude invited her out on his wyvern and they spent the afternoon soaring and diving through the air on a beautiful day just like this.

Claude... I’m sorry I couldn’t keep our promise...

She thinks it is a trick of her mind, but right as Byleth feels her consciousness slipping away, she hears his voice one last time crying out her name with such fear and anguish.

Then, there was nothing.

----

“BYLETH!”

Claude feels his heart stop and clench painfully as the familiar black and green figure tumbles off the edge of a jagged cliff.

He is shooting across the battlefield on his wyvern’s back before he can even spare a thought to how absolutely reckless it is to fly so low in the range of archers.

Behind him, he vaguely registers his generals shouting at him in alarm and Nader barking out orders to support the retreating Fodlan forces.

All he can think about right now is getting to His Star in time.

Later, he will wonder to himself if perhaps he might have the power to pause time as well, because although it was probably less than 4 seconds, Claude swears that the world around him slowed as all of his senses honed in on his one goal.

Please, goddess, let me reach her in time.

---

To those who participated in the Final battle with Those Who Slither in the Dark, they would recall vividly the moment when a loud battle cry rang out from the east heralding the arrival of the Almyran army.

They would also recount the arrow of white and gold that shot across the battlefield towards the Queen whom had made her last stand on the edge of a cliff before fainting from exhaustion and tumbling down to the depths below.

Above the din of weapons clashing and cries of agony rose a single name, cried out with such fear and panic that even those who knew not whom the shout belonged to, felt their hearts clench painfully with the raw emotion.

Although not many could say for certain what happened next, all the surviving Fodlan soldiers would recall shortly thereafter seeing their former leader, Claude von Riegan, atop his white wyvern loosing arrow after arrow on the lingering enemies with such brutal efficiency that reminded everyone exactly how he had ended the war.

When the fighting ceases and casualties are tallied, fear for their Queen runs rampant through the soldiers. For those who have had the privilege of fighting under the combined leadership of Claude, the master tactician, and Byleth, the Ashen Demon, they know how strong the bond is between the two, and although they have their doubts, they allow themselves to let their worries melt away when they see Claude exit the medical tent with a look of such knee wobbling relief that he has to lean on a nearby wall to stop from collapsing.

XxXxXxXxX

Ugh. I hate how this ended. I’ll come back and fix it another day.

Anyhoo, hope you all enjoyed it!

Chapter 1

Next: Chapter 2

[thisolddag]

Our Family Unplugged For 24 Hours. Here’s What Happened.

Back in September, our thirteen-year-old son finally got his own room. We converted the playroom by dragging in his bed and desk from the room he used to share with his little brother. The new “bedroom” still has bins of Legos and Thomas trains and action figures hidden in drawers, and it’s still painted a cheery bright teal, and he let me keep yesteryear scribbly artwork up, and it doesn’t quite fit his current cool, detached teenager image - but it’s got a TV and it is His Own Personal Space. 

From which he hardly ever retreats.

This is the first thing. The fact that we have for all intents and purposes, momentarily “lost” contact with him. It’s normal, I know this - normal to want to burrow away and figure things out in solace, normal for someone who is 13 and looks 16 and is wracked with evolving feelings and changing body. I get it.

But this new room, and this new kid (who is now taller than me) got me missing things. Missing how things used to be before we walked around with devices in our hands. Because the truth is we are - all four us in this house - burrowed away in our own Personal Spaces. Eyes down, time wasted, hours spent scrolling, clicking, forwarding, deleting. Even the ten-year-old who doesn’t have a phone, has an iPad and access to a computer - and so while we still play board games, and eat dinner as a family, watch movies together sometimes - the cold, hard truth is that any leisure time to spare is time spent alone, in some corner, staring down at a screen.

So when I came across Tiffany Shlain’s new book “24/6: The Power of Unplugging One Day A Week” it was like a plea, a dare, and an answer all rolled into one. The next day, I called a family meeting. 

“We’re going to implement a Tech Shabbat. We are going to unplug for twenty-four hours. No iPhones, no iPads, no computers. ALL of us. We will have a landline, a list of phone numbers to call people if we want, and one TV to share, in the family room.”

The ten year old was excited.

The thirteen year old cried.

He shed actual tears, and his reaction - fear, confusion, desperation, fury - further cemented my decision. 

Yesterday was our first unplugged Sunday.

And here are my take-aways.

THINGS THAT WERE SURPRISING

1. Teenagers are resistant and reluctant to use phones for anything other than texting. I had to implore my 13 yr old to pick up the house phone and call his friends (they were supposed to meet up for Superbowl hangout that evening.) “Nobody calls anybody! Nobody leaves voice messages. Nobody checks voicemail!” “They won’t know this number. They won’t pick up.” He was correct on all accounts. I had to call parents and inform them that it was, in fact, our son calling from a landline, that this was no prank. The kids who ended up calling back didn't know to how to greet me. They stammered and hemmed and hawed. The idea that reaching out to a friend did not guarantee a direct connection with said friend, was foreign and stupid and strange. This all blew my mind.

2. The day felt incredibly long and languid. It unfolded slowly. When we get on a device, time is sucked up so quickly. I liken it to being in a casino. Minutes fly by, the whole concept of time is warped, thwarted, eradicated. Many times a day, I take my phone out of my pocket and there I am - Instagram, Facebook, Flipboard, Twitter, Matchington Mansion - and when I slip it back into my pocket, I’m unaware of how much time has passed. An hour? Twenty minutes? I don't register it, and yet, it’s gone in a flash.

3. I didn’t miss the things I thought I would. I didn’t miss social media, I didn't miss news notifications popping up, I didn't even miss the Marco Polos I love exchanging with a group of close friends. I didn’t miss getting emails. I didn’t miss looking around for my phone or “alone time.” I still had my alone time except it was quieter - an aloneness with my thoughts, observing things instead of being distracted by them. I didn’t miss being available and connected to an outside world. When I started wondering about how someone was doing, I picked up the house phone and gave them a ring. I left a message and hoped they’d call back. It felt freeing. It felt authentic. My husband felt the same. However, our oldest son’s biggest worry was missing out. He still got dropped off at his friend’s house for the SuperBowl party (the only kid there without a phone, I'm sure) and he still had loads of fun. In fact, when I called the kid’s house later that night to check up on him, he sounded energetic and happy and even ended the conversation with “I love you, mom.” But later he mentioned experiencing anxiety - feeling like he was missing out on “something important” by not having access to his phone. To him, having his phone nearby means having his friends nearby. Without it, he feels lost, unmoored. That admission made me think about how hard it is for our kids, who have grown up used to being “connected” all the time.

4. Landlines are FUN. My friends called a few times, and I would slightly thrill at the sound of a phone ringing throughout the house, and I’d run downstairs to pick up the receiver in time, smiling. As we talked, one friend commented how it felt like we were sixteen, hanging off our beds, twirling our hair, talking about our crushes. 

5. My husband and I worked on a crossword puzzle over coffee and breakfast. I also finished a jigsaw puzzle in one afternoon, which I’d been working on for weeks. I read a lot. My boys lay together on the couch and agreed on what to watch on the one TV we could use. They hung out more than they had in a long, long time. We all felt relaxed. I ended up watching the Superbowl because by 9pm, I was too tired to start another jigsaw puzzle, too tired to read, so what else was there to do? I laid on the couch and learned about fumbles, and touchdowns, and cheered for the Chiefs and I kind of got into it. Who the fuck would have thunk. 

THINGS THAT WERE ANNOYING

1. I couldn’t take pictures. That sucked. 

2. Traveling was unsettling. When the boys went to SkyZone, I didn't like not being able to get in touch with them. Granted, my sister and her husband and kid were there too, and I called her, but still. I thought about car accidents or something random and awful happening while they were out, and I worried about when they’d get home. That kinda sucked too. It felt like an old yet unfamiliar sensation - not knowing what was going on at every single moment. 

3. We couldn't order anything online. We couldn't use GrubHub or DoorDash, or GoogleMaps. We couldn’t just like check the weather with a swipe of one finger. Not having the everyday convenience of being online was a bit of a bother, but we survived. It made me realize that we have gotten lazy about daily tasks, and that part of our brain has BECOME our iPhone. 

4. I snacked a lot. Without my calorie counting and fitness apps to log my food intake, I suddenly found myself snacking on junk. I did work out, but eating that day became a sort of time filler, and the feeling reminded me of quitting cigarettes and turning to food. That was unforeseen, and I did not like it.

THINGS THAT WERE PROFOUND

1. All day, we felt like we were together in the same space. We retreated less often. We felt serene, light on our feet. We settled into feeling bored, or lazy, or inspired. We gave each other more attention but somehow felt less encumbered upon. It was really, really lovely and soothing. Putting away our devices felt like going on vacation. When we went to bed, I felt closer to my husband. I felt like we had truly shared the day. And both us were not exactly looking forward to Monday, because it felt like going back to the grind. Already there was a bubble of anxiety in our chests, a feeling of weight on our shoulders. Also, I had 127 emails waiting for me this morning and not a one of them was something that desperately should have been answered yesterday. So there was that realization too. The world won’t fall apart if you check out for one day.

2. Twenty-fours can change you. It is a small amount of time, yet our 24 hours unplugged felt so incredibly substantial and so behavior-altering that it made me pause and realize just how addicted we have become to always being connected to the outside world via technology. It’s fucking bizarre, if you think about it. 

3. Unplugging and reaping the benefits will only work when the adults in the house do it too. We already have a Device Free day and have had it for years, but it only applied to the kids. It has never felt as pure, and as important and GOOD, as yesterday, when the rules applied to all of us. Taking electronic away from the kids, while being allowed ourselves because “we didn't grow up with this, so we’re not addicted to it” - is like telling someone to go on a diet and eating cake in front of them all day, because well, you personally don't have an issue with weight. Suddenly, it became clear: to be together, we have to do this together.

Moral of the story: this was a pretty amazing experience, as trivial as it seemed to some. If you are feeling burdened, stressed out, fractured, cranky with your kids, your partner - I highly recommend investing in a landline, writing down phone numbers, picking a weekend day, and trying it out. It will feel new and beautiful, and reassuring somehow. Because while there were moments when obviously we went our own ways, did our own thing, we still felt as one. There were no walls, no apps, no texts getting in the way of figuring out and enjoying the day. We were fully present with each other, with ourselves - aware of time but not panicked or confined by it. 

In her book, Tiffany Shlain writes that her family has been unplugging one day a week for ten years now. I don’t know how long we’ll last, but all I know is this - we can’t wait for next Sunday.

[ziracona]

I meeean, if you want to share an "in this essay I will" about the value of ANOES I think everyone could benefit from hearing more of your A+ meta commentary

I totally might. Idk it’s weird. Lately I’ll like see a gif set from it and be like ‘Damn I want to find some well sourced literature and make an academic conversation about this’ and it’s wild. Like I haven’t written an academic paper for fun since my senior thesis paper on Wreck it Ralph senior year. And yet? Somehow the desire is there!!

This film gets so shortchanged largely due to love for the original franchise, but it’s a really, really good film. It’s actually fascinating—there were like, two big movements in horror in the mid-late 2000s, and one was great and the other was terrible. The first was just bland reimaginings of classics where the director was like ‘what if we change nothing about the characters, but tell the audience they should be sympathetic to the killer, because moral relativism and it’s edgy,’ which got you like the really bad Texas Chainsaw Massacre sequel and Jigsaw. However, along with things like Jennifer’s Body and Tucker and Dale vs Evil, A Nightmare on Elm Street 2010 was part of the mid 2000s explorative films, which went, “Hey. Horror is a great genre. People will go watch anything horror, it’s the cheapest thing to make except rom coms maybe, and so the turnover is great, because they always make money, even if they’re crap. This means we could make a terrible film with no effort, but it also means we could make something about an issue the kinds of people who go watch a slasher would probably never choose to go see, and they’ll still go see it.” And boy did they. These people went out and created fantastic, fascinating explorations of a lot of topics.

Horror gets a bad rap, but has always been meant for this. Since its inception, it’s not only been one of the first (and for a while only) genres meant to appeal primarily or at the very least equally to a male audience to also have strong and violent female leads, but explored a lot of unusual topics and bridged some weird cultural gaps. A lot of people assume men go to horror films to watch people get cut up, but in reality, most people go to root for the heroes, including young adult guys. Which means since horror began, guys have been willing to vicariously submit to the experience of being attacked and chased and powerless through the person on screen, and not only been able to connect to that, but wanted/been willing to, and found something valuable in that struggle and experience. Not in like a kinky way, but in a much more fascinating and genuinely valuable one. One of the biggest arguments people bring out against minority leads in media is that they are unrelatable to the mass audience, but this has never been the case.

There’s a lot of literature on this, and on horror as an outlet to relate to the kinds of pain and fears men often aren’t societally given an outlet for. A lot of the time men are pushed to bottle experiences up and try to look nothing but strong, even if bad things, really bad things, do happen to them. For some people, there just aren’t a lot of options for outlets, and it’s unfair and bad. A lot of men even watch assault-revenge films, and people who don’t like horror often assume people, especially men, who watch horror do it for sick kinky voiyeristic reasons, but that’s just not universally true. Or even the majority. (Feeling represented is important to everyone and since like, forever, human beings have used stories to make sense of their own lives. If you’re interested in this particular side of horror, check out the book Men, Women, and Chainsaws.) The genre is a weird point of human connection. It’s really unfair, because yes, some people who watch horror are genuinely terrifying and gross, but so are a scary number of people who watch cartoons, and there’s a lot more to the genre that draws people in than what it might seem like from a lot of the loudest sources in the horror corner.

Obviously, there’s a lot more to it too, but I’m getting a little off topic, so circling back. Horror has long been used to explore ideas and themes that weren’t really approachable in other ways. Horror is a fantastic medium for this, because of its mass appeal, and makes an excellent platform. In the mid-late 2000s, this gave you films like Jennifer’s Body, exploring teenage/womanhood, and violence against women, sexuality, female experience. Tucker and Dale vs Evil, a lighthearted horror comedy that’s a commentary on socio-economic discrimination. Similarly, while usually only people already interested in the topic would watch a film on CSA, A Nightmare on Elm Street 2010 is literally a thesis project on the effects of CSA and a responsibly told, brilliant study of the experience not only for victims but for their families as well, told seriously and responsibly in one hour and 35 minutes. In this essay, I will

[tacitcantos]

The Biggest Difference Between The Wolf Among Us and Fable Comic

More than just seeing how clever the writer can be in fitting the jigsaw pieces of fairy tale and modern day together, The Wolf Among Us is interested in the deeper thematic resonance to be mined in looking at the consequences of the original fairy tales: in what happens when you strip fairytales of their gravitas, in the complexities and nuances of how the Big Bad Wolf would deal with his past in the modern day.

The Wolf Among Us is a prequel videogame to the long running Fables comic series. The premise of both is simple: all of the fables of brother’s Grimm fame are refugees in our world after having to flee their own, and now live in hiding in an enclave in New York called Fabletown. The main character of both comic and game is Bigby Wolf, the big bad wolf of legend now reformed as the sheriff of Fabletown.

The Wolf Among Us has a dynamic storyline that shifts and reacts to the dialog choices you make for Bigby, and the game is easily one of the smartest takes on fairy tales you’ll find in any medium. One of the themes inherent in any modern day take on fairy tales is postmodernism, the fun in the premise seeing how fairytale characters slot into a modern world, of juxtaposing the mythos of the original stories with the mundane of everyday life. The Fables aren’t mythical characters anymore, no longer princes and damsels and monsters, they’re all just people now trying to get by.

But more than just seeing how clever the writer can be in fitting the jigsaw pieces of fairy tale modern day together, The Wolf Among Us is interested in the deeper thematic resonance to be mined in looking at the consequences of the original fairy tales: in what happens when you strip fairytales of their gravitas, in the complexities and nuances of how the Big Bad Wolf would deal with his past in the modern day.

Though the comic series was started back in 2002, twelve years before The Wolf Among Us was released, my introduction to the Fables universe came first through the game, and after finishing it I went on to read the comics… and was almost immediately disappointed.

The thing is, while The Wolf Among Us is a nuanced and complicated take on fairy tales, the Fables comics... aren’t. They’re not badly written, but they’re only interested in that fun surface level of draping fairy tales over the modern day without any real engagement with how that changes or complicates them. Every way The Wolf Among Us engages with the specifics of the original fairy tales, the comics don’t.

Now, the comic series does actually at first do some smart things: so Fabletown isn’t ripped apart from internal conflict all inhabitants are granted blanket immunity for past crimes in their old world. To protect from the outside mundane world they’re also forbidden from revealing their magical identities. While for the human fables this is easy enough, for inhuman fables like trolls or talking frogs it requires purchasing expensive spells, called glamours, to disguise themselves, or risk being shipped off to a farm outside the city.

These are a great example of taking advantage of the Fabletown premise: they’re logical extrapolations, and they set the stage for interesting conflicts. Both comic and game explore those conflicts, but do so in fundamentally different ways.

A few issues into the comics those inhuman fables on the farm rebel and try to take the reins of power for themselves. This is actually one of the few places the comics really engage with the original fairy tales and make full creative use of them: there’s an especially funny reference to Goldilocks having gone native with the three bears from her story and now works as a terrorist and freedom fighter for inhuman fables, but there’s very little long term value to the storyline. The rebellion is put down after a few chapters, but there’s no change to the Fabletown status quo, no growth for any of the characters involved, no examination or deconstruction of the themes of the story or original fairy tales.

Instead of being a fun little side story, the tension between human and non-human fables makes up the core of The Wolf Among Us. A deep trench of bitterness separates the have’s from the have-nots, with inhuman fables ignored by the Fabletown government and treated like second class citizens.

It’s actually remarkably similar to real life ethnic enclaves at the turn of the century. In trying to solve the first murder of a fable in years, Bigby has to navigate a Fabletown where Beauty and Beast, like a lot of refugees, were wealthy in their home country but now find themselves resorting to less than savory ways to pay for a lifestyle they can no longer afford; where racial resentment between those who can pass as the native population and those who can’t is high; where the weak institutions of the fabletown government have allowed an organized crime element to rise to power and take advantage of the vacuum in fabletown just as the mafia did in Italian ethnic enclaves in New York.

Bigby himself operates in a really interesting liminal space between the two classes of fables: viewed as a traitor and Uncle Tom by one side while also never fully accepted by the other. Despite the clemency granted to all fables for their crimes in the old world, no one’s forgotten just how many people Bigby ate in the homelands.

This is an aspect of Bigby that isn’t explored in the comics, and his reasons for taking on the office of sheriff aren’t either. It’s suggested at one point that he came to Fabletown and reformed from his old ways because of his interest in Snow White. And it’s not a bad motivation per se, it’s just that it isn’t explored more than that. There’s no character growth, no struggle in trying to refrain from violence despite his enjoyment and affinity for it, no conflict between his old ways and the new person he’s trying to be, no emotional toll in the suspicion the other fables view him with, no personal cost in what he’s doing.

The best example of this is the introduction of Red Riding Hood a dozen issues or so into the comics. With the Big Bad Wolf as a main character you might think one of his former victims showing up to be a complicated and thorny issue… but you’d be wrong.

There’s a single page where Red Riding Hood is upset by Bigby being the sheriff and forgiven for his crimes in the old world, but it’s quickly discovered that she’s not actually Red Riding Hood, and instead an evil witch in disguise. Narratively, her appearance is simply a ploy by the villains that once discovered isn’t commented on again. There’s no emotional or thematic conflict in it, no examination of the complicated relationship between former abuser and victim, of how to reconcile past wrongs, of the bitterness Red Riding Hood should feel over how the other fables have accepted the monster that once terrorized them all. The real Red Riding Hood does eventually show up later, but she has even less to do with Bigby than the fake one.

While Red Riding Hood doesn’t appear in The Wolf Among Us, the game does confront Bigby with an element from his original fairytale: the Woodsman.

And his relationship with Bigby is nuanced. Instead of the hero of the story as he was in the Homelands, in Fabletown he’s a drunk and abuser of women, and resents Bigby: he’s the hero of the story, not Bigby, so why is he a suspect in a murder case? Doesn’t anyone remember what Bigby is? What he’s done? These are interesting questions that spring from the original fairytale, and ones that go unasked in the comics. They’re also used for character growth: depending on your choices in the game there can be a distinct arc with Bigby and the Woodsman finally burying the hatchet and reaching an understanding with each other.

Bigby’s motivation in becoming sheriff in The Wolf Among Us is positioned as less about Snow, and more about reforming his image and identity as a whole. This motivation informs all his actions in the game: the constant friction between lapsing back into his old Big Bad Wolf persona to speed the investigation along, and the new order abiding and non-violent one he’s trying to forge. And despite his best efforts there’s a real undertone throughout the game that he may be needed because of his ability to inflict violence, but because of exactly that he’ll never be trusted.

It’s a really nuanced way of engaging with the consequences of the original fairytale and using it to inform character growth and theme.

Part of the reason the game is so much better at exploring these themes is down to both a difference in the medium and genre. The main game mechanic of The Wolf Among Us is decision making and dialog choices, and the more complex and multifaceted the characters and conflicts, the more interesting it is to play. And the noir detective genre is simply a better vehicle for exploring those small, personal tensions and conflicts than the superhero war story of the comics.

Moral relativism is a hallmark of noir which makes creating nuanced characters easier, and a murder mystery by its nature requires the detective to move through the different stratas of society and puzzle out the motivations and nuances of suspects and witnesses. There’s also just a hundred small ways the presentation of The Wolf Among Us reinforces the unglamorous nature of Fabletown: the neon lights that drench the world, the constant graffiti in the background, the thick atmosphere of the music, Bigby’s weariness in quiet moments, the way his fridge is empty.

Even the titles of the comics and game set them apart: Fables is a generic and vague title, The Wolf Among Us specific, intriguing, and hints at the liminal space Bigby occupies, the themes of fear and belonging.

None of this is to say that the original Fable comics are bad. They’re not: they’re well written and well drawn. But they’re not everything they could be, not as brilliant as their premise promises. The fairytale elements in them are just draped over a conventional plot, the connections only skin deep.

Found this interesting? Exciting? Sexy? Check out my other writing on my tumblr here, or check out my youtube video essay channel here.