#no wip wednesday take this meta i spent four hours on instead

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

Hello! Hope you don't mind the random ask 🥺 You said after the newest episode that Mushitarou is one of your favorite BSD characters; could you talk a little about your thoughts on him/why you love him/his arc? He's one of my favorites too, and it makes me so so sad how underrated he is, because imo he's one of the most well-written and tragic characters in the entire series, despite how little screentime (pagetime?) he gets :' ) I wish more people would talk about him. Really hope that changes after the next episode 💚

I honestly almost screamed when I got this ask YES I CAN TALK ABOUT MUSHITARO. I CAN TALK ABOUT HIM ALL DAY.

Ok well first of all he is the poor little meow meow. Pathetic scrunkly man. I'm sorry but you can't deny that it's true. Even in-universe, it's like he's the BSD world's chew toy. He keeps getting kidnapped by different organizations with like. No breathing room in between. Give him a BREAK. Funnily enough, I enjoy and usually like to poke fun at these kinds of characters, but they're not typically my favourites. Mushitaro is, by far, an exception to my usual favourite character types.

Second, I am a lover of bittersweet tragic storylines. Yeah. Honestly, the way the storyline built to the slow reveal - I knew immediately after Poe mentioned the water droplets that they were his tears, and I was starting to suspect what was really going on, but the way it was unraveled was so, so painful and beautifully done. Even knowing it was coming today when I watched the episode, it still hurt.

Thirdly, Mushitaro's circumstances raise some intriguing questions we still don't have answered. He was captured by the Seventh Agency and made to work for them with his ability - he considers them a worse alternative to Dostoevsky and refers to them as tyrants. (We also know of another shadowy organization that takes on ability users with useful skills for nefarious purposes, V. V also somehow managed to not be discovered by either the government or Ranpo in 13 years. I'm not saying there's a connection there but... but... there might be. 👀) Anyways, point is, there's stuff goin' on there. And I wanna know. (Also I like the motivation parallels with Ango very much.)

But most of all, I fully agree with you - he is very well-written. What I love most about his character is actually the way his narrative showcases what I believe to be some of the series' character writing's biggest strengths - to excellent (and heartbreaking) effect.

Characters are often revealed to be quite different than what their initial introductions would suggest. Later revelations serve to recontextualize earlier character cues - these early cues are often misleading but not outright lies.

To be clear, this isn't a hard or particularly unique thing in character writing - in fact, this is... kind of a minimum requirement. Your audience should be able to go back after the fact and notice new things about characters that you only get on re-read. But I find BSD is interesting for this because these initial impressions don't frequently tell you what these characters actually value - the "establishing moments" are often incredibly misleading. Mushitaro is an excellent example of this.

The best part of the perfect murder arc is the way it slowly unravels piece by piece - and as it unravels, more and more, we get to see the real Mushitaro. He starts off with these terrifying facial expressions, bragging and boasting about how he is the "detective killer" and how none stand in his way, cackling like a shallow cartoon villain. There's not much there to suggest a deeper character. Then there's the first flash to Yokomizo's murder, and Mushitaro appears to revel in it and the idea that he can't be caught. Another flashback shows him making these arrogant demands of a literal terrorist, like all his tableware being silver and porcelain and having access to a library of occult books for his study. Ok dude. This all paints the picture of a selfish individual, primarily concerned with expensive things and money and image - all things that perfectly fit Ranpo's initial conjecture as to the kind of person behind the Kindaichi murder. And just like Ranpo later says, it's a little too perfect.

The reveal builds slowly but surely, and Mushitaro's built-up image as a dramatic, remorseless murderer crumbles. Because he didn't kill out of hatred at all. He killed Yokomizo because Yokomizo asked him to do so. Because this, and the legacy of a mystery that transcended fiction into reality, was his only friend's dying wish. It was enough for Mushitaro to delay his escape just to fulfill it - what Ranpo refers to as a kind of willing self-destruction.

What Mushitaro ultimately values then is honouring the wishes of those he cares about and repaying those he owes. He will take the secret of Yokomizo's ultimate mystery to his grave. He used what he likely thought were his last moments alive to grab the transceiver and warn Ranpo about the danger the Agency was in. He only decided to trust Ango after Ango admitted his use of the Seventh Agency was to honour Oda's memory and wishes.

So, going back and re-reading his intro again, it becomes more clear that he was suffering from a kind of cognitive dissonance. "But wasn't he just playing the role he was supposed to?" No. He wasn't. The first flashback to Yokomizo's murder is much more violent and ends with Mushitaro cackling and going into a full villain monologue when there is no one else around but him. There's no one to perform this role for - except Mushitaro himself.

Both the killing and the ensuing grief stemmed from the exact same source - Mushitaro loved his friend deeply. But there is, I believe, no small amount of bitterness too, for the way they argued frequently, and the way his friend asked this of him. It's practically irreconcilable in his mind, and so Mushitaro leans into his role as the evil perpetrator who hated Yokomizo to such a degree that I honestly think he started to believe it - Mushitaro, with two narratives in his mind running parallel to each other that are fundamentally conflicting, tried to make a monster of himself. Insisted on being the monster, at least until Ranpo made it impossible for him to deny the true motive behind his actions - protecting his friend's last wish.

Fittingly for the climactic reveal of a mystery storyline that blurs fiction and reality, Mushitaro's real-life grief was his perfect fictional role's undoing.

Is he boastful? Arrogant? A bit of a coward? Absolutely. But Mushitaro is no monstrous villain - he is a man unable to confront his grief over his friend's death, and who, ultimately, doesn't intend any real harm.

Because other than Yokomizo, revealed as an agreed upon assisted suicide - Mushitaro never murdered anyone.

2. Characters are not cured of their pain and trauma. They continue to struggle with it during their development and it actively impacts the way they view and interact with the world around them.

Mushitaro's story is heavily themed around grief and his consistent denial of it's effects on him. At first, he denies by embodying the role Yokomizo wanted him to play - it seems to the point where he legitimately started to lose it. He's slipping when we first meet him. In a weird way, for as much as Ranpo tore his perfect crime apart... I feel like he also saved him, in a sense. The dissonance he was experiencing likely only would've gotten worse if he had not been forced to speak the truth aloud.

After that point... the denial focuses solely on the idea that Mushitaro doesn't miss Yokomizo at all. That he's doing just fine and Yokomizo should be jealous (he's far from fine; he doesn't even see a point in going outside anymore now that he won't be able to see his friend) and that he hated him (he doesn't. he never did. but he has to. he can't deal with it.).

Another thing I really like about his arc is that Mushitaro's grief also clearly stems from the entire thing being traumatic for him - but neither Yokomizo nor Mushitaro are demonized or victimized for this; rather the situation is just shown as it is. It's nice, that the story allows the reader/viewer to draw their own judgements. Both had their reasons for their actions - Yokomizo was already dying and wanted to go out in a way that was meaningful to him, while Mushitaro chose to fulfill this wish in spite of the cost to him. They both mutually self-destructed, in a way.

The narrative doesn't frame either as the villain. It doesn't fully frame either in victimhood either. It's a tragedy all the same.

Mushitaro continues to see and hear Yokomizo wherever he goes, not because he can't get rid of him... but because he never wanted him to be gone in the first place. Stabbing me would hurt less I think. :/

3. Characters often grow and change before they consciously realize it or have any sort of "epiphany".

This ties in a lot with the ongoing theme of uncertainty, and I above all really like this aspect of the series. BSD has characters grow and change and try to be better, do better by themselves and others... without being sure of the outcome. Sometimes before they're ready to consciously admit a change is necessary. There are few epiphanies. The characters are forced to slog through hardship and only then suddenly realize how far they've come - for better or for worse.

Mushitaro does change, even in the short span of time he is a focus character. I love the first little signs of it too - Mushitaro, who doesn't even like mystery novels, uses a trick Yokomizo told him about to help himself, Atsushi and Kyouka escape. Look at him :')

Afterwards, he starts to wonder if he can see Yokomizo whenever he enters a locked room - as in, if connecting to the memory of his friend through what he loved in life will mean that he keeps that memory alive.

And as annoyed as he is with Poe's attempts to get him to write a mystery... a part of him is happy to be around people that he could start to consider his friends. Enough that the Yokomizo he hallucinates wonders if maybe he doesn't need him there anymore. And finally Mushitaro bursts.

But this is actually good. He's finally past that denial phase, the part that had him talking about hate when really he missed him all along. Thing is, he'd already been developing and changing by this point, in that he needed the growth to come to terms with this truth, and it was not the truth that drove the growth.

In a sense, Mushitaro working through his grief and uncertainty led him to a brighter outcome, one where he has more friends and can start anew. He lost the closest person in his life. But his arc continuously asserts that in spite of the fact that he will always miss his friend, Mushitaro himself is still alive. And he should live that life - both moving forward and keeping the memory of his friend with him.

Odasaku believed that writing a novel was to write people. Poe was so insistent on getting him to write because it's a way of seeing the people we want to see anytime we want.

What a beautiful character arc, that began with fiction as an escape from real-life pain, and concluded with fiction as a means to work through it and with it instead.

Plus he's just such a funky little dude.

I. Love. Mushitaro.

[mareastrorum]

WIP Wednesday: The Fool and the Soldier, Ch. 9 (Shop Date)

The Fool and the Soldier is now up on AO3, updated every other Friday (usually). I'm aiming for Friday, but might bump to Saturday/Sunday this week.

Unfortunately, I'll have to bump this next update to next Friday, 12/22. Work has been insane. Like before, I don't want to rush and get something half-assed posted. Hopefully work calms down after the holidays and we'll be back on schedule.

I didn't post a WIP scene last week because all the ones I had ready were super spoilery! So I've posted both this WIP scene and a Meta post today as a treat. Enjoy!

See the directory for other TF&TS posts.

Why did it have to be shopping?

Fjord was ready to declare mutiny and take his chances facing Avantika, Vera, and Bouldergut head on himself, in the middle of the busy port, so long as it would mean an end to this asinine errand. He felt an itch all along the inside of his skin. They’d spent the better part of an hour checking in with the wharfmaster about repairs, then Vera briefly reported what she’d already stocked at each vessel before insisting upon accompanying Avantika for the rest of the day. They’d spent the next two hours stopping in shop after shop, making bulk orders for supplies and assigning a trailing crewman to finish the request or handle delivery, eventually dwindling down to the final four. To make things worse, the dear captain was a haggler, prolonging each of their stops.

Gods, if it wasn’t for the Nein counting on Fjord to keep the crew distracted, he would have gone for the combat option. Instead, he kept a courteous smile on his face and followed Avantika down the busy road. “So, what is it that we still need?”

“Thankfully, Vera’s already ensured that we’ve restocked on most supplies,” Avantika replied. “However, there are a few items I prefer to check myself, and some favors I need to call on.”

“I take it these will be necessary equipment for our next destination?” Fjord noted.

Avantika grinned, though she continued looking forward as she led the way. “Oui.”

That was Nuash for “yes.” Fjord only knew a few key phrases, though he hadn’t heard the Ki’nau language spoken much since he left Port Damali for Nicodranas. It wasn’t that Nicodranas necessarily disfavored Naush; it was that there were far more languages spoken there that he just hadn’t noticed it much during his stops.

Darktow seemed similar, with most speaking in Common, plus a background melody of Marquesian, Naush, racial languages, and another with quick consonants that he didn’t recognize. Everyone switched between multiple languages with ease, depending on who they spoke to. Most land-based locals spoke an airy mix of Common and Naush while most sailors stuck to Common with thick Marquesian accents. Now and then, a group of halflings, dwarves, or elves passed by, speaking in their own tongues.

This mix of cultures and languages was typical of the Menagerie Coast, though there were unique blends at each port. Novel but familiar, nostalgic and diverse, in every new place Fjord had encountered during his time as a crewman. Fjord had missed it more than he realized, and he wished more than anything that he could enjoy it without all this doomsday business hanging over the Nein. It was strange to be homesick for a home that wasn’t a single place. Stranger still to walk in a place that should be like home and to feel like an outsider despite a welcome.

After a time in silence, Fjord teased his regrowing tusks, not yet long enough to protrude from his mouth, but enough to bother his lips. “I presume we’re going to be divin’ at the Diver’s Grave, but have you done that before? I’ve got some experience. Perhaps I can make some recommendations.”

Vera tilted her head slightly to leer at him from the other side of Avantika. Bouldergut said nothing, still stomping along behind them.

“A few times,” Avantika answered coyly as they approached a storefront at the end of the docks. The front wasn’t a proper wall, mostly a giant gate swung open and locked against the side, with a massive furnace along the back wall and anvil in the center, and a counter up front. A blacksmith of some kind.

Before Fjord could ask anything further, Avantika immediately addressed the clerk. He sighed and kept silent so she could work. He’d heard of strange diving suits, leather and metal contraptions for exploring the reefs for shipwrecks. As far as he knew, they worked a few hundred feet down, but they required a pump and tubes to provide air. Not the most efficient way to explore the depths, but then, most people didn’t train for free diving like Fjord had at Driftwood Asylum.

As unpleasant as they were, Fjord let himself get lost in the memories of that terrible place rather than wait mindlessly. Sabian had also been an orphan there and one of numerous bullies that made his life a living hell. Half-orcs weren’t common in Port Damali, and they’d needled him for anything they could think of. Called him a foundling, insisting his parents must have abandoned him rather than died, and he did not have a memory to speak to either possibility. Made fun of his teeth, jeering that he was a half-beast for his tusks. Mocked his uneven skintone, that he’d been left to soak in the water and it was that the green had bled from his flesh.

When Vandran had shown up looking for recruits to join his crew, Fjord had jumped at the chance—and so had Sabian. Thankfully, the work kept them both so busy that Sabian either didn’t have the time to continue his bullying or found enough distractions that were more pleasurable. Those years were hard, without a doubt, but they were some of the best of Fjord’s life. Within a few months, Vandran took him under his wing, tutoring him in sailing, leadership, swordmanship, and generally just getting along with people. All the things a father would have taught.

Then, perhaps a year ago, Sabian blew up the Tide’s Breath in the middle of a terrible storm, killing everyone else aboard and sinking it to the depths.

There had been no lead up to it. No whispers of mutiny or dissatisfaction with Vandran’s leadership. They had left port a few weeks earlier, when Sabian could have left and sought other employment. The half-elf hadn’t even taken anything with him when he dove into the roiling waters just seconds before the explosion. No hints as to a motive. Fjord had first thought his own survival was sheer luck, but after waking half-drowned with the Sword of Fathoms in hand, it must have been Uk’otoa that saved him.

Then, how had Sabian survived?

That thought brought Fjord’s mind to a halt, just as it had all times it cropped up before. Why did Uk’otoa choose and save Fjord, a hapless sailor shipwrecked during a terrible storm? Fjord had seen a vision of Vandran standing over a corpse with the Sword of Fathoms in hand, and after Urukayxl, Avantika had claimed that he had been a chosen of Uk’otoa when she met him (though Fjord had lied that he didn’t know the man). If Avantika had been telling the truth that Vandran had forsaken his plan to release Uk’otoa, then maybe Uk’otoa had taken that chance to send the sword to a new chosen. But why did Uk’otoa pick Fjord, who was loyal to Vandran, instead of Sabian, who had betrayed him?

Maybe Uk’otoa didn’t think Sabian was worth of being chosen. But then what did the demi-god prioritize? Vandran and Avantika were both personable, driven, and had a strong commitment to whatever path they chose. Fjord did alright presenting that sort of personality since he’d started emulating Vandran’s attitude and speech, but—

Avantika interrupted those thoughts as she spoke, “Bouldergut, you can manage, yes?”

Fjord roused from his distraction to turn and see a goliath stop a pallet on spoked wheels behind them. Because of the decline, the man was behind the cart, his grip on a rope preventing it from rolling down the grade. The massive metal construction resembled a bell with strange metal clasps and hooks on the bottom rim.

Bouldergut grinned toothily. “Yeah, boss lady.” She took the rope from the goliath and slowly began down toward the ship, while the goliath rolled his shoulders and walked back behind the storefront with a grunt.

“The balancing weights are inside on the pallet,” the dragonborn blacksmith noted. “I suggest gettin’ a crane to lift it onto the ship. No gangplank’s gonna handle that weight.”

“Of course,” Avantika said as she nodded to Vera, who counted out some silver bars from Bouldergut’s pack and laid them on the counter. “Bouldergut, just guard it at the dock once you get back to the Squalleater. Don’t try to take it aboard.”

“Yes, Captain!” Bouldergut cried as she left.

Once they were on their way again, Fjord asked, “A diving bell? I wasn’t aware that anyone in Darktow was interested in salvage. Actual salvage, not ‘salvage.’” He emphasized with air quotes.

Avantika chuckled as she began leading Vera and Fjord away. “It is not a popular vocation in the Revelry, but there are a few crews dedicated solely to such ventures. Enough for the merchants to keep several useful items stocked. You said you had experience. Are you familiar with deep sea diving?”

“Can’t say that I am,” Fjord answered honestly. “Before I was a sailor, I did some salvage in shallow waters, but none at a depth requirin’ equipment. Just good ol’ fashioned lungs.”

“Yes, I know you have quite the capacity for holding your breath,” Avantika mused with a smirk. Fjord felt his face flush, and while he didn’t look, he could feel Vera’s pointed glare. “However, that would only last you minutes. The depths of the Diver’s Grave require more than skill.”

Fjord took the opportunity to dig. “You didn’t mention how deep we’d be goin’. Do you know, or are we gonna improvise once we get there?”

“The Grave is only perhaps a hundred, a hundred fifty fathoms deep,” Avantika explained. Fjord was only slightly taller than a fathom, and such a depth wasn’t considered deep sea—surprising for a location in the middle of the Lucidian. “Prone to storms, which is why there are many stories of wrecks and treasure to be found there for enterprising divers. Assuming that their own vessel does not join the ones below.”

“With the blessings of Uk’otoa, we have no such fear,” Vera added with conviction.

“Of course,” Avantika agreed.

“At that depth, we’ll need somethin’ for the bends, or else it’ll take much longer between dives,” Fjord noted. He’d heard horror stories of blood boiling, spasms, skin swelling, burning lungs—all symptoms of going too deep too quick and then rushing back up. Even free diving to only twenty fathoms had to be gradual, taking stops on the way back up to settle the change in pressure. He had a feeling his water breathing spell would take care of that, but he’d never told Avantika he had it, and it was one more way to delay.

To prolong the shopping.

“Ah, you are right, my quartermaster,” Avantika noted. “We should stop by the alchemist.”

Fjord nodded, swallowing his frustrated sigh. Godsdamnit, this had better pay off.